The Ninth Science Fiction Megapack

by Arthur C. Clarke

  Then, too, there was that strange mystery concerning the lifeboat locker. After he had brooded on it for days, he finally called Nad to his side.

  “What happened to Sargon?” he asked him, without preamble. “You said you overcame him in a struggle, during which he M-Rayed Lylwani. But what are the details? How did you overcome him?”

  Mention of Sargon never failed to key Nad’s faculties to a maximum of alertness. He quickly perceived that Yiddir was driving at something.

  “Why?” he asked, his gray eyes meeting Yiddir’s steadily. “I got him with a Stun Ray and he fell off the catwalk.”

  Yiddir stared back intently. “How far did he fall?”

  “I don’t know. It was dark. Why do you ask?”

  “The effects of the Stun Ray only last a few minutes, depending on the intensity for which the weapon is set. It may be—”

  He paused, thinking. Then he asked, “Did Sargon really care a great deal about Lylwani?”

  “He told me he would take every risk I would to get her.”

  “Hm-m-m. That might be the motive. He certainly wouldn’t take such a risk in the line of mere duty, or even for revenge alone. But if Lylwani means as much to him as she does to you—Tell me this. Did he know she was M-Rayed?”

  “No. But what are you driving at?”

  Yiddir spoke very slowly. “The space boat locker next to ours was empty,” he said, “yet only six hours before our departure I know there was a ship sitting in it. That can only mean that very shortly before we left another ship also came out. It may be out here somewhere right now, trailing us.”

  Nad’s excitement subsided slightly. “Sargon could have recovered in time to get to the lockers ahead of us,” he said. “And he could have gone out into the Abyss to trap us in case we escaped. But in that case he would have spotted us immediately on his instruments and struck long before this. His stake in the rebellion is too important to be abandoned, I think, even for Lylwani.”

  “That is an admirable deduction,” said Yiddir. “But perhaps he might know how to take Lylwani and return to the rebel fleet as well.”

  “What! Return to the fleet from here? There is no return!”

  “Yes,” said Yiddir. “I have never told you, and you must never tell the others, but there is a way. Our drivers can be altered for more speed. It is possible to overtake the fleet, although as the distance increases the time factor increases proportionately. Sargon is a capable Navigator and I know he finished Technical in order to increase his rating. He would know how to convert the drivers. Higher velocities haven’t been resorted to, in general, because the occasional meteors getting through our detection screens would have dangerous mass, enough to penetrate cryosite walls.”

  “But—why should Sargon wait this long to strike?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a new factor has been added that delayed him. A breakdown, or some accident.”

  “But all that is pure supposition. Haven’t you some sort of detector on board? Can’t you tell if he is out here?”

  “Within ten million kilometers or so, yes. Much time has elapsed, and distances are tremendous out here. He could be on our trail without our knowing it.”

  “But if we couldn’t detect him, how could he detect us in this darkness?”

  “The answer to that is simpler than you think,” said Yiddir. “You forget that he knows where we are going.”

  Nad’s brows raised and his mouth parted. “How could he?” he asked. “I’ll admit he’d know all about the world we’re trying to reach, but why should he assume we know about it?”

  Yiddir shrugged. “I don’t know how much Yldra said in front of Krylorno or how much Krylorno told the Navigators. But one thing is certain. No Passenger could handle this ship as I have. It takes technical training which, incidentally, I am going to have to give to you and Ron and Karg as soon as possible. The Navigators have always speculated on my escape and that of my son, years ago. They have always feared that perhaps one of us would return, either alone or in force. Krylorno’s tale would easily enable them to guess what happened. They knew at once that I was on board. Well, that may be one thing that has made Sargon cautious, if he has followed us. He knows, perhaps, that he not only has another full-fledged Navigator to deal with, but the former captain of the ark—and a man of legendary scientific ability, in fact, the inventor of the M-Ray. The more I think of it, the more it all seems to fit together. That missing lifeboat in the locker next to ours cannot be disregarded.”

  Nad sat silently for a long time, gazing with narrowed eyes into space. “What could he do if he decided to take us?” he asked, finally.

  “Our meteor detectors would give us warning. We have shields against all primary rays and the Disruptor cannons which the rebels have mounted in all these boats. I doubt if he knows enough about second order stuff to assemble an effective M-Ray projector, which he would have to have, because the hand M-Ray is only good at short range. I have no shield against a good M-Ray projector. Only my son knew that secret, and he is long since gone.

  “Then what can Sargon do?”

  “I don’t know. That may be why he’s holding back—perhaps trying to figure something out. Perhaps—”

  “What?”

  “Perhaps he would even go so far as to follow us to that little planet of ours and kidnap Lylwani when the opportunity presented itself.”

  Nad got to his feet. “I think we’re both dreaming,” he said. “Why don’t you start teaching me what you know about this ship?”

  Yiddir sat still, thinking for a long time. Then he looked up and asked, “What do you want first, instruction in piloting—or in the use of the armaments?”

  As he looked steadily at Nad, the latter broke into a grim smile. “Okay,” Nad said. “Then we’re not dreaming. Let me see those Disruptor cannons…”

  * * * *

  Deceleration continued, unabated, and the passengers of the small ship walked in it with heavy and laborious tread. The darkness prevailed, day after day, and each sought to occupy himself to the best of his abilities. Yiddir carefully instructed Nad, Karg and Ron concerning all the controls on board. He even started on a long-range conversion job, working on one of their four drivers at a time. He hoped to utilize the increased velocity some day in their further search for the better solar system whose existence he suspected.

  Yldra had been assigned the long, arduous task of reeducating Lylwani. She had to teach her to speak and even how to eat and walk properly. It was a heartbreaking task, but Nad was always there, encouraging her in the depths of each new discouragement.

  Karg was indirectly helpful. The short-statured little Martian was naturally cheerful in spite of the discomforture of doubled gravity due to deceleration. He was interested in everything, quick to learn, and entertaining. But most valuable of all, from the psychological standpoint, he had brought along one precious belonging that was now a means of mental salvation. It was a Martian querla, a small musical instrument that generated invisible rays in which his moving fingers produced a marvelous music of rich tone and endless variety. Yldra had a very pleasing voice, and sometimes the two would entertain the others by playing and singing.

  At such times, Lylwani was very receptive and cooperative, and she even repeated some of Yldra’s sonars, to Nad’s infinite delight. All these things served to establish a routine and way of life for the ship’s small company which provided a certain measure of stability.

  But one day—tragedy struck.

  * * * *

  On the upper deck, astern was an observation chamber equipped with a huge, double-paned window of transparent metal. While they were in the darkness, there was nothing to be seen from this vantage point, but Yiddir had announced that their velocity was being reduced very closely to the speed of light, and that any time now they might begin to see some evidence of the bright universe that had surrounded them invisibly all of their lives.

  Ron had been sitting with Yldra in this room, both of them
watching the window for some break in the darkness that lay astern. They had spoken of many things, their old acquaintances left behind, and of the possibilities of their future life on the new world.

  Suddenly, the sonophone in their chamber brought Nad’s voice to them. He reminded Yldra that it was her watch with Lylwani, and she got up to leave.

  “I’ll stay here a while,” Ron told her.

  The chamber just forward of the aft observation bridge had been converted into a battle station by the rebel Navigators. Here were mounted several Disruptor cannons. Just as Yldra stepped into this room on her way forward, the galactite struck.

  Started on its journey eons past, the small metallic fragment had gathered much more velocity than a meteor. Meteors were local phenomena, occurring within the galaxy, but the galactite was much rarer owing to its extra-galactic origin. In the course of time required for its transit between galaxies, it had acquired a velocity greater than light, itself. The arks of the fleet and the lifeboats could detect the approach of ordinary meteors and automatically vary their courses slightly to avoid them in time, or if a meteor penetrated the detection area and struck, the cryosite hulls could withstand the blow. But no detectors or metal walls could stop a galactite because of its terrible velocity.

  The galactite struck the ship and penetrated it like a hot knife passing through butter. In its path it left a series of small, neat, round holes on both sides of the hull and through two decks of cryosite. Its passage was accompanied by a deafening report, which stunned Yldra momentarily.

  Then air began to rush out of the chamber she was in. She began to struggle with the forward hatch, but it was jammed as the result of the galactite’s titanic blow. She turned aft, but too late, because the observation hatch slid automatically into place, as it had been designed to operate just that way in such an emergency.

  Its seal could be released, however, from Ron’s side, and she called to him frantically to help her. When half the air had been released from the room, an unexpected phenomenon occurred that gave promise of saving her, even as she slipped into unconscious. The moisture in the air, as it encountered the deep cold of outer space, froze instantly, and soon the galactite holes in the hull were obstructed with ice, which slowed the escape of air. There was still a chance.

  Over the sonophone, Yiddir’s tense instructions penetrated Ron’s panic. “The air in Yldra’s chamber is leaking out very slowly,” he said. “Open your hatch and pull Yldra through. Then close it again. This will reduce your own air pressure considerably “and you may pass out, but you’ll be safe. We are putting on spacesuits on this side and will burn our way through this jammed hatch, repair the damage and then pull you out. Now act quickly, or Yldra is lost!”

  There was no answer from Ron.

  “Hurry!” Yiddir exclaimed. “We can’t burn through from here without causing the ice plug to melt in the hole, and without a spacesuit, Yldra would die—just like Gradon did in the execution chamber.”

  “Ron!” came Nad’s voice.

  Then Ron: “I—I can’t! The air will go out. I’ll die!”

  “Then die, you coward! If I find you alive and Yldra dead I’ll kill you anyway!”

  But Ron only fell in his chair and sobbed. “Kill me then!” he cried. “I can’t do it! I love her, but I—I can’t make myself do it!”

  Nad and Yiddir were in spacesuits in the next chamber forward. Their forward hatch was sealed. Instead of using the heat gun, Nad blasted the hatch with a Disruptor and leaped into the room. But the ice plug cracked, and the air rushed out again. Before new ice could form, Yldra’s nose and ears flowed red.

  The two men carried her out to safety. Between them and Ron were two airless chambers.

  Time passed endlessly for Ron, but nothing more happened. Finally, he addressed the sonophone in a choking voice.

  “Nad!” he called. “Have you got her? Is she all right?”

  After a long, terrible silence, Nad; replied. “You don’t know, do you?” he said. “Two airless rooms separate you from us, Ron. If you try to come out, you’ll die. If you stay there, you’ll suffocate in a few hours. Just stay there and think about it!”

  “Nad!” Ron called, frantically. “Tell me! Is she alive?”

  “Your cowardice wrecked our plans before,” came Nad’s voice, murderously cold.

  “Nad!” Ron was hysterical, crying out in falsetto. “Don’t leave me here! Nad!”

  But only silence answered him…

  CHAPTER VIII

  Yldra died. Fortunately, Lylwani was spared the grief of the others, but Yiddir, Nad and Karg could only sit there in painful silence looking at her lovely form as it lay inert before them. All but Yiddir, perhaps, hoped that Ron would die in agony. Silently, they prepared her for space burial, and just before they put her in the disposal lock, Nad bent over and kissed her cold forehead.

  “Goodbye, sweet,” he whispered, tenderly.

  Rod, in a delirium of fright and mortal anguish, seemed to hear a distant voice chanting:

  “Oh Darkness that is Light!

  Oh mighty judge that offers peace

  Forever in abyssmal night!

  Oh Truth that gives me naked

  Nothing for falsely vested life,

  Where in an instant that is ever

  I may be free of Wrong or Right!”

  “Yldra!” he screamed. “Yldra!”

  Silence brought loneliness to sit with his conscience, while the air about him grew stale…

  * * * *

  Yiddir finally prevailed upon Nad to rescue Ron. At first, Nad refused, with close-mouthed stubbornness, but when Karg offered to get in a spacesuit, Nad gave in.

  They used one compartment for an air lock, and Nad went into the damaged chamber and repaired the holes. Then air was admitted and they announced to Ron over the sonophones that he could come out.

  After almost a minute, the hatch opened, and Ron stood there looking blankly at his brother.

  “Yldra is dead and buried in space,” said Nad. “You didn’t deserve to see her. If you care to live with yourself after this, I’m giving you your life back. Not that I can see why. You can thank Yiddir.”

  Ron’s face was colorless, his eyes severely bloodshot, but the fear was gone out of him. In fact, the spirit had gone out of him.

  They left him to his own resources for a while, but later on when it was necessary for him to speak, they found that he could not articulate. As though unseeing, he stared mutely through them. He ate and slept like a somnambulist.

  “The shock may wear off in time,” said Yiddir, sympathetically. “Nad, both you and Karg may despise Ron, but I feel terribly sorry for him. No man could experience a greater hell than to be born a coward and want to die and yet not have the courage to commit suicide. I know that Ron despises himself more, perhaps, than both of you put together. He is experiencing more punishment than anyone could possibly administer to him externally. Whether you may think so or not, I believe he loved Yldra as much as any man can love a woman, but the mechanism of cowardice worked in him in a way that was uncontrollable. Just leave him alone and give time a chance to heal his mind and shattered nerves.”

  After a long moment of silence in which neither Nad nor Karg could think of anything to say, Yiddir added, “We have more important things to worry about. That galactite damaged certain electrical circuits that are virtually inaccessible to us. Our meteor detection system works only intermittently. It can only be hoped that no meteors cross our path while the system is not functioning, Of course, the hull might withstand the blow, but the change of course might be violent and the inertia would most certainly kill us at this velocity. Just now the system is functioning again. I hope it continues to do so.”

  Yiddir looked significantly at Nad and felt that he was thinking of the same thing. If a meteor could get through without detection at some future date, so could Sargon.

  CHAPTER IX

  The great event they had been waiting for finally
occurred. It happened one day when Nad was on watch and while Karg and Ron and Yiddir slept.

  He was in the control room alone with Lylwani. Before him were control panels, and above these were large observation ports. There was nothing to do but watch the deceleration indicators occasionally.

  Lylwani sat close beside Nad, looking blissfully at the black observation ports. Nad had been watching her affectionately. She appeared to be in good health, and the loneliness in him transformed her natural beauty into irresistible allure. He could not resist taking her hand in his, and she did not object. In fact he was elated to feel the suggestion of a responsive pressure from her slender fingers.

  She could converse and think for herself with a childlike simplicity, so Nad tried to engage her in conversation.

  “You and I,” he said, are the last of our kind.” There was no point in telling her of the arks, he thought.

  “There is Yiddir,” she replied, “and Karg, and Ron.”

  “I know, dearest, but—” He stopped, helplessly. How could he explain to an infant mind the gracelessness of their still extant ability to procreate their kind? How could he tell her that they were the potential parents of a new humanity?

  “But what?” she asked, looking at him with the sweet, trusting smile of a child.

  In her mind, he thought, she is a child, but physically she is a woman. She is my woman! He took her head between his hands, very gently, so as not to startle her.

  “I must teach you to love me again,” he said, “or I’ll lose my mind.”

  “Love?” She raised her brows, quizzically.

  “Yes,” he said. “Love, Lylwani! A very important thing. Do you understand what it is to be happy?”