F. L. Wallace

by Address Centauri

  Jordan gently touched her shoulder. She opened her eyes but she wasn't looking at them. On the panel the needle of a once useless dial rose and fell.

  "What's the matter with the poor dear?" asked Anti. "She's shaking."

  "Let her alone," said Docchi. "Let her alone if you don't want to return to the asteroid." No one moved. No one said anything. Minutes passed and the ancient ship creaked and quivered and ran away from the fastest rockets in the system.

  "I think I can explain it," said Docchi at last, frowning because he couldn't quite. There were things that still eluded him. "Part of the gravity generating plant—in a sense the key component—is an electronic computer, capable of making all the calculations and juggling the proportion of power required to produce directed or undirected gravity continuously. In other words a brain, a complex mechanical intelligence. But it was an ignorant intelligence and it couldn't'see vv^y it should perform ad infinitum a complicated and meaningless routine. It couldn't see why and because it couldn't very simply it refused to do so.

  "It was something like Nona. She's deaf, can't speak, can't communicate in any way. Like it she has a very high potential intelligence and also, in the very same way, she's had difficulty grasping the facts of her environment. Differently though, she does have some contact with people and she has learned something. How much she knows is uncertain but it's far beyond what psychologists credit her with. They just can't measure her type of knowledge."

  "Yeah," said Jordan dubiously. "I'll agree about Nona. But what is she doing?"

  "If there were two humans you'd call it telepathy," said Docchi. It upset his concepts too. A machine was a machine— a tool to be used. How could there ever be rapport? "One intelligence is electronic, the other organic. You'll have to dream up your own term because the only thing I can think of is extra sensory perception. It's ridiculous but that's what it is."

  Jordan smiled and flexed his arms. Under the shapeless garment muscles rippled. "To me it makes sense," he said. "The power was always there but they didn't know what to do with it." The smile broadened. "It couldn't have fallen into better hands. We can use the power, or rather Nona can."

  "Power?" said Anti, rising majestically. "If you mean by that what it sounds like, I don't care for it. All I want is just enough to take us to Centauri."

  "You'll get there," said Docchi. "A lot of things seem clearer now. In the past why did the drive work so poorly the further out it got? I don't think anyone investigated this aspect but if they had I'm sure they'd have found that the efficiency was inversely proportional to the square of the distance from the sun.

  "It's what you'd expect from a deaf, blind, mass sensitive brain, the gravity computer. It wouldn't be aware of the stars. To it the sun would seem the center of the universe and it would no more leave the system than our remote ancestors would think of stepping off the edge of a flat world.

  "And now that it knows differently the drive ought to work anywhere. With Nona to direct it, even Sinus isn't far."

  "What are you thinking about, doc?" said Jordan carelessly. "If I were you I'd be figuring a way to get off the ship. Remember we're going faster than man ever went before." He chuckled. "Unless, of course, you like our company and don't want to leave."

  "We've got to do some figuring ourselves," said Docchi. "There's no use heading where there are no stars.'We'd better determine our destination."

  "A good idea," said Jordan, hoisting himself up to the charts. He busied himself with interminable calculations. Gradually his flying fingers slowed and his head bent lower over the work. Finally he stopped, his arms hanging slack.

  "Got it?"

  "Yeah," said Jordan. "There." Dully he punched the telecom selector and a view took shape on the screen. In the center glimmered a tiny world, a fragment of a long exploded planet. The end of their journey was easily recognizable.

  It was Handicap Haven.

  "But why are we going there?" asked Anti. She looked at Docchi in amazement.

  "We're not going voluntarily," he said, his voice flat and spent. "That's where the Medicouncil wants us. We forgot about the monitor system. When Nona activated the gravity drive it was indicated at some central station. All the Medicouncil had to do was take the Control away from Nona."

  "We thought we were running away from the ships," said Anti. "We were, but only to beat them back to the junkpile."

  "Yeah," said Docchi. "Nona doesn't know it yet."

  "Well, it's over. We did our best. There's no use crying about it." Yet she was. Anti passed by the girl, patting her gently. "It's all right, darling. You tried to help us."

  Jordan followed her from the compartment. Cameron remained, coming over to Docchi. "Everything isn't lost," he said awkwardly. "The rest of you are back where you started but at least Nona isn't."

  "Do you think she'll benefit?" asked Docchi. "Someone will, but it won't be Nona."

  "You're wrong. Suddenly she's become important."

  "So is a special experimental machine. Very valuable but totally without rights or feelings. I don't imagine she'll like her new status."

  Silence met silence. It was the doctor who turned away. "You're sick with disappointment," he said thickly. "Irrational, you always are when you glow. I thought we could talk over what was best for her but I can see it's no use. I'll come back when you're calmer."

  Docchi glared sightlessly after him. Cameron was the only normal who was aware that it was Nona who controlled the gravity drive. All the outside world realized was that it was in operation—that at last it was working as originally intended. If they should dispose of Cameron—

  He shook his head. It wouldn't solve anything. He could fool them for a while, pretend that he was responsible. But in the end they'd find out. Nona wasn't capable of deception—and they'd be very insistent with a discovery of this magnitude.

  She looked up and smiled. She had a right to be happy. Until now she had been alone as few people ever are. But the first contact had been made and however unsatisfactory—what could the limited electronic mind say?—in other circumstances it might have presaged better days. She didn't know she was no less a captive than the computer.

  Abruptly he turned away. At the telecom he stopped and methodically kicked it apart, smashing delicate tubes into powder. Before he left he also demolished the emergency radio. The ship was firmly in the grip of the monitor and it would take them back. There was nothing they had to do. All that remained for him was to protect Nona as long as he could. The Medicouncil would start prying into her mind soon enough. He hoped they'd find what they were after without too much effort. For her sake he hoped they would.

  6

  PERFECTLY synchronized to their speed the outer shell of the dome opened, closing behind them before they reached the inner shell. It too gaped wide to swallow them, snapping shut like a quickly sprung trap. Jordan set the controls in neutral and dropped his hands, muttering to himself. They glided to a stop over the landing pit, thereafter settling slowly. Homecoming.

  "Cheer up," said Cameron jauntily. "You're not prisoners."

  Nona alone seemed not to mind. Docchi hadn't said anything for hours and the light was gone from his face. Anti wasn't with them; she was back floating in the acid tank. The reentry into the gravity field of the asteroid made it necessary.

  The ship scraped gently; they were down. Jordan mechanically touched a lever, flicked a switch. Passenger and freight locks swung open. "Let's go," said Cameron. "I imagine there's a reception committee for us."

  Even he was surprised at what was waiting. The little rocket dome held more ships than normally came in a year. The precise confusion of military discipline was everywhere. Armed guards lined either side of the landing ramp and more platoons were in the distance. It was almost amusing to see how dangerous the Medicouncil considered them.

  Near the end of the ramp a large telecom had been set up. If size indicated anything someone thought this was an important occasion. From the screen, larger
than life, Medicouncilor Thorton looked out approvingly.

  "A good job, Dr. Cameron," said the medicouncilor as the procession from the ship halted. "We were quite surprised at the escape of our accidentals and your disappearance which coincided with it. From what we were able to piece together, you followed them deliberately. A splendid example of quick thinking, doctor. You deserve recognition."

  "I thought it was my fault for letting them get so far. I had to try to stop them."

  "No doubt it was. But you atoned, you atoned. I'm sorry I can't be there in person to congratulate you but I'll arrive soon." The medicouncilor paused discreetly. "At first the publicity was bad, very bad. We thought it unwise to try to conceal it. Of course the broadcast made it impossible to hide anything. Fortunately the discovery of the gravity drive came along at just the right time.- When we announced it opinion began swinging in our direction. I don't mind telling you the net effect is now in our favor."

  "I hoped it would be," said Cameron. "I don't want them to

  be hurt. They're all vulnerable, Nona especially, because of

  what she is. I've thought quite a bit about how she should be

  approached------- "

  "I'm sure you have." The medicouncilor smiled faintly. "Don't let your emotions run away with you. In due time we'll discuss her. For the present see that she and the other accidentals are returned to their usual places. Bring Docchi to your office at once. He's to be questioned privately."

  It was a strange request and mentally Cameron retreated.

  "Wait. Are you sure you want Docchi? He's the engineer

  but------- "

  "No objections, doctor," said Thorton sternly. "Important people are waiting. Don't spoil their good opinion of you." The telecom snapped into darkness.

  "I think you heard what he said, Dr. Cameron." The officer at his side was very polite, perhaps because it emphasized the three big planets on his tunic.

  "I heard," said Cameron irritably. "I don't want to argue with authority but since I'm in charge of this place I demand that you furnish a guard for this girl.

  "So you're in charge?" drawled the officer. "You know I've got a funny feeling I'm commander here. My orders said I was to replace you until further notice. I haven't got that notice." He looked around at his men and crooked a finger. "Lieutenant, see that the little fella—Jordan, I think his name is—gets a lift back to the main dome. And you can walk the pretty lady to her room, or whatever it is she lives in. Don't get too personal though unless she encourages it." He smiled condescendingly at Cameron. "Anything else I can do to oblige a fellow commander?"

  Cameron glanced at the guards. They were everywhere he looked, smartly uniformed, alert. There was no indication of amusement in the expressions of those near enough to have heard the conversation. They were well disciplined. "Nothing else, General," he said stonily. "Keep her in sight. You're responsible."

  "So I am," remarked the officer pleasantly, winking at the lieutenant. "Let's go."

  MedicouncilorThorton was waiting impatiently on the screen in Cameron's office. The attitude suited him well, as if he'd tried many and found slightly concealed discourtesy best for the personality of the busy executive. "We'll arrive in about two hours," he said immediately. "By this I mean a number of top governmental officials, scientists, and some of our leading industrialists. Their time is valuable so let's get on with this gravity business."

  He caught sight of the commander. "General Judd, this is a technical matter. I don't think you'll be interested."

  "Very well, sir. I'll stand guard outside." *

  The medicouncilor was silent until the door closed. "Sit down, Docchi," he said with unexpected solicitude, pausing to note the effect. "I can sympathize with you. Everything within your reach—and then to return here. Well, I can understand how you feel. But since you did come back I think we can arrange to do things for you."

  Docchi stared at the screen. A spot of light pulsed in his cheek and then flared rapidly over his face. "You probably will," he said casually. "But what about theft charges? We stole a ship."

  "A formality," declared the medicouncilor with earnest simplicity. "With a thing like the discovery, or rediscovery, of the gravity drive, no one's going to worry about an obsolete ship. How else could you test your theories except by trying them out in actual flight?"

  The medicouncilor was dulcet, coaxing. "I don't want to mislead you. Medically we can't do any more for you than we have. However you'll find yourself the center of a more adequate social life. Friends, work, whatever you want. In return for this naturally we'll expect your cooperation."

  "Wait," said Cameron, walking to the screen and standing

  squarely in front of it. "I don't think you realize Docchi's

  part------- "

  "Don't interrupt," glowered Thorton. "I want to reach an agreement at once. It will look very good for us if we can show these famous people how well we work with our patients. Now, Docchi, how much of the drive can you have on paper by the time we land?"

  "He can't have anything," Cameron started shouting. "I tried

  to tell you—he doesn't know----------- "

  "Look out," cried Thorton too late.

  Cameron's knees buckled and he clutched his legs in pain. Again Docchi kicked out and the doctor fell down. Docchi aimed another savage blow with his foot that grazed the back of Cameron's head. Blood trickled from his mouth and he stopped trying to get up.

  "Docchi," screeched Thorton, but there was no answer.

  Docchi crashed through the door. The commander was lounging against the wall, looking around vacantly. Head down Docchi plunged into him. The toaster fell from his belt to the floor. With scarcely a pause Docchi stamped on it and continued running.

  The commander got up, retrieving the weapon. He aimed it at the retreating figure and would have triggered it except that it didn't feel right in his hand. He lowered it and quickly examined the damaged mechanism. Sweating, he slipped it gingerly into a tunic pocket.

  Muffled shouts were coming from Cameron's office, growing in vehemence. The general broke in.

  The medicouncilor glared at him from the screen. "I see that you let him get away."

  The disheveled officer straightened his uniform. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think he had that much life in him. I'll alert the guards immediately."

  "Never mind now. Revive that man."

  The general wasn't accustomed to resuscitation; saving lives was out of his line. Nevertheless in a few minutes Cameron was conscious, though somewhat dazed.

  "Now, doctor, who does know something about the gravity drive if it isn't Docchi?"

  Cameron shook his head groggily. "It was an easy mistake," he said. "Cut off from communication with us the drive began to work. How, why, who did it? Mostly who. Not me, I'm a doctor, not a physicist. Nor Jordan; he's at best a mechanic.

  Therefore it had to be Docchi because he's an engineer." He

  stopped to wipe the blood from his cheek.

  "For God's sake tell me," said Thorton. "It couldn't be------------------ "

  "No,",..said Cameron with quiet satisfaction. "It wasn't Anti

  either. The last person you'd think of. The little deaf and

  dumb girl the psychologists wouldn't bother with." "Nona?" said Thorton incredulously.

  "I told you," said Cameron and proceeded to tell him more, filling in the details.

  "I see. We overlooked that possibility," said the medicoun-cilor gravely. "Not the mechanical genius of an engineer. Instead the strange telepathic sense of a girl. That puts the problem in a different light."

  "It's not so difficult though." Cameron rubbed the lump on the back of his head. The hair was bristling, clotted with blood. "She can't tell us how she does it. We'll have to find out by experiment, but it won't involve any danger. The monitor can always control the drive."

  The medicouncilor laughed shakily, teetering backward. "The monitor is worth exactly nothing. We tried it. For a micro
second it seemed to take over as it always has on other units— but this gravity generator slipped away. We thought Docchi found a way to disengage the control circuit."

  "But it wasn't Docchi who told the computer how to do it."

  "We figured it out when we thought it was Docchi," growled the medicouncilor wearily. "He was sensible, that's all. It was the only reasonable thing a man could do, come back and take advantage of his discovery." He shook his head in perplexed disgust. "Why the girl returned is beyond me."

  "Do you think---------- " said Cameron and then wished he'd left

  it unsaid.

  "Yes, by God, I do think." The medicouncilor's fist crashed down. "Docchi knows why. He found out in this room and we told him. As soon as he knew he escaped."

  Panic slipped into Thorton's face and then was gone, covered over almost at once by long habits of sudden decisions. "She could have taken the ship anywhere she wanted and we couldn't stop her. Since she's here voluntarily it's obvious what she wants—the asteroid."

  The medicouncilor tried to shove himself out of the screen. "Don't you ever think, General? There's no real difference between gravity generators except size and power. What she did on the ship she can do as easily here."

  "Don't worry," said the startled officer. "I'll get her. I'll find the girl and Docchi too."

  "Never mind him," choked the medicouncilor. "I don't care how you do it. Take Nona at once, without delay."

  The time had passed for that command. The great dome overhead trembled and creaked in countless joints. But the structure held though unexpected stresses were imposed on it. And the tiny world shivered, groaning and grumbling at the orbit it had lain too long in. Already that was changing—the asteroid began to move.

  VAGUE shapes were stirring. They walked if they could, crawled if they couldn't—fantastic and near-fantastic creatures were coming to the assembly. Large or tiny, on their own legs or borrowed ones they arrived, with or without arms, faces. The news had spread fast, by voice or written message, sign language, lip reading, all the conceivable ways that humans communicate, not the least of which was the vague intuition that something was going on that the person should know about. The people on Handicap Haven sensed the emergency.