Closed System

by Zach Hughes

  "No," she said, with a sad little smile.

  She was the only stimulant he needed. He didn'tneed the wine. He took one sip, reached out andtook her glass from her hand, put the glasses on a table. She made no resistance as he pulled her intohis arms. Her arms went around him and hismouth covered hers, and as the kiss deepened hefelt a small, insignificant sting at the base of hisneck. Her kiss deepened, but the joy of it was goneas a wave of shock and deep hurt killed his desirefor her. He jerked her hands down from around hisneck and forced her right hand open. The smallhand syringe was cupped there. The quarter-inch injection needle showed a small drop of clear fluidat its tip.

  "Oh, damn," Pat said, as weakness seemed toflow throughout his body.

  "It will be all right," she said, her face no longersmiling. "Sit down, please."

  He made it to a large sofa before the darknesstook him.

  Awareness came back to him with a rush. Hefelt fine. There was no fuzziness in his brain. Heopened his eyes and squinted, for he was looking into a bright light on the ceiling over his head. He tried to move and discovered that he was secured quite firmly by straps. He was in a half-recliningposition on a soft, comfortable couch. His shirthad been removed. There was a slight chill to the air which told him that, in addition to the electric lights, the room was climate-conditioned.

  He jerked his head to the left. A man in a white smock stood beside him, looking down at him withhis

  lips thrust out thoughtfully.

  "Relax, Captain Howe," the man said. "No harm will come to you. We merely require some infor­mation."

  "Where is Corinne?" He needed to talk to her, totell her how disappointed he was by this new be­trayal. And yet he was not too chagrined. It didn't really matter, did it? He felt fine. There seemed tobe a glow of health and well-being in him.

  The man in the white smock turned his back,walked away. Pat saw that under the smock theman wore a

  long, dark robe like the priest whohad greeted him upon his arrival at the temple.

  The man came back. "You will feel no pain," hesaid, as he pushed a mister against Pat's bare arm and injected something that burned only slightlythrough Pat's skin. The man then pulled a tallstool up beside the couch and perched there, look­ing down.

  Ah, Pat was thinking, it was a beautiful world, and the couch was so comfortable, and how con­siderate of them to make him so comfortable.

  "I am your friend," the man said, smiling.

  "Yes."

  "You are my friend. You want to help me. Youwant to tell me everything I want to know."

  "Sure, be glad to," Pat said, filled with warmthfor the man, filled with peace, and happiness.

  "And you will hold nothing back," the man said,"because you want Corinne to know all, don't you?"

  Such a burst of emotion in him as he thought ofher. "Oh, yes," he said. He laughed. He knew ev­erything. They were using a mind-domination drugon him, and that was so very, very illegal that it was funny.

  "You are happy," the man said. "You are laugh­ing with happiness, and you want to help us."

  "I'd have done it without the illegal drug," Patsaid, still laughing happily.

  "I'm sure you would have," the man said, with asmile. "Now, let us begin. Tell me, Captain Howe, how you found us and tell me who knows that youare here."

  Pat chuckled happily and told all. He told howXanthos Central Control had detected Corinne's tampering with the trip tape, and how he'd wormedthe truth out of the old man, and how he'd beenable simply to follow the blink coordinates to Dorchlunt.

  He was chortling so happily that he had to be primed to go on.

  "And did you file a flight plan with XanthosCentral?"

  "Heck, no," Pat said. "Couldn't, except in gen­eral. I gave them the known blink beacon, of course,and then I just said that I'd be exploring unchar­teredspace."

  "And the blink coordinates?" the man asked."Did you file the blink coordinates for Dorchlunt?"

  "No," Pat said. He laughed. "But they're on fileat X&A. They have copies of the old man's tapefrom his self-diagnosis chamber. All they'd have todo is dig out the coordinates from that tape and they'd come right here, no problem. Simple trip once you have the right coordinates."

  "In your opinion, how long will X&A wait, whenyou don't close your flight plan?"

  "Oh, weeks and weeks, I'd say. Maybe months. Itold Jeanny that I might be gone for a while. Yousee, I guess that I believed, deep inside, that I'dfind Corinne, and that I might be staying withher."

  "And so you have found her," the man said."Now, let us begin again, Captain Howe."

  He went through it again, laughing merrily, hav­ing a wonderful time with his new friend. "I imag­ine Jeanny might worry about me," he said."Because of the personal relationship there—but Idon't love Jeanny, I love Corinne—she might start a search for me in, oh, maybe two months. Thatwould be my guess. She wouldn't want to mount a search for me and have me show up on Xanthos inthe middle of it. So she'll wait. She knows I'mcapable of taking care of myself. I got here, didn'tI? I found Corinne, didn't I?" He laughed for the sheer joy of it.

  "Now again," the man said.

  "Hey, this isn't much fun anymore," Pat said,but he went through it again, beginning to feel tired, and as he talked there was no laughing asthe tiredness grew and became bone-weariness, aheavy exhaustion which made it an effort to breathe.As he said, once more, that Jeanny probablywouldn't begin to worry about him for a month or six weeks he gave up, surrendered to the exhaus­tion, slept.

  The couch was no longer comfortable. It washard, and narrow. The lights had been dimmed.He ached in every bone, in every muscle. He liftedone arm, and the effort tired him, sent him backinto sleep. When next he awoke he lay quietly,forced his eyes open. He was in a stone-lined room,and the room was windowless. The light camefrom one fixture, dimly, the fixture sunken intothe rock of the ceiling. He heard someone breath­ing and, with a great effort, turned his head.

  He lay on a narrow ledge, the stone cushionedonly by a rough homespun blanket. An old man inthe tunic and skirt which was Dorchlunt's cos­tume lay on another ledge across the small room.

  "Ah, young man, you are awake?"

  "I think so," Pat said.

  "Just in time. They will feed us soon."

  Food was the last thing on Pat's mind. He strug­gled and finally was able to push himself into asitting position, feet on the stone floor. "What isthis place?"

  "The waiting place," the old man said. He, too,sat up, ran his fingers through his graying hair. Helooked at Pat with a little smile. "You are tooyoung to be sent to Zede."

  "Zede?"

  "I am not complaining, mind you," the old mansaid, "but there are laws. One must work andproduce the required number of years before earn­ing the reward."

  "So you are here, in the waiting place, havingearned your reward?" Pat asked.

  "Yes." The old man mused. "Well, perhaps you did some great unusual service which merits early reward. Is that true?"

  "Yes, it is true," Pat said. He was feeling a bitbetter. He was no longer happy, however, and hefelt no friendliness at all toward the man who hadinjected him with an illegal mind-dominance drug.It was no consolation to him to know that he was not the first man to have been fooled and betrayedby a woman. And yet there was something insidehim which could not accept Corinne as evil, asbeing a willing participant in whatever the hell it was that was going on on a planet where the popu­lation was beautiful, healthy, and living in primi­tive conditions next door to a "temple" where somewell-shielded power source produced electricity. Perhaps it was hopelessly romantic of him, he wasthinking, but he chose to cast Corinne in the roleof victim, too. There could have been no faking thesincerity of that kiss there in the throne room, and even as she was drugging him again, she'd beenkissing him with a fierce possessiveness which said to him, love, love.

  "So perhaps we will go to Zede together," theold man said.

  "You're looking forward to it, then?" Pat asked.

  Th
e old man looked at him strangely. "To beforever alive on the golden fields of Zede? To haveall of one's desires, and be united with all thosewho have gone before us? Why do we work? Whydo we observe the laws?"

  "To live forever amid the splendors of the heav­enly fields of Zede," Pat said, and the old mannodded.

  "My friend," Pat said, "I will make a confessionto you, since we are going to travel to Zede to­gether. My service was in the field of the mind."He didn't know exactly how far to go with the lie."I worked with the priests to delve into the depthsof the mind. Do you understand?"

  The old man was looking at him with interest."How fortunate you are," he said. "And did youpartake of the joy magic?"

  Pat nodded. "There is one complication," he said."Having experienced such joy, the mind is dulled,and the memory is blunted."

  "Yes, yes, I have seen those who have experi­enced the joy magic."

  "Since I am going to Zede," Pat said, "I wouldhave my mind clear, my memories intact, lest Icommit some sin of omission. Can you help me?"

  "I will try."

  "Tell me of the sacred books."

  "Alas," the old man said. "I was not chosen tobe a scholar. I know little of the sacred books of Fonforster."

  "If you will tell me the little you know I will begrateful," Pat said.

  "Well, then, when we came from theforfarvelts,fleeing the fury of the Beast, and the wings failed, there was left to us only the Fonforster. Even thenthe sacred books were ancient, printed upon pa­per, bound with leather to last the ages, unlike the wisdom which was lost with the angel wings. Theyare with us still, the ancient and sacred books ofFonforster, our sacred guide to living a life of mean­ing, and the wise ones, who interpret, who areentrusted with keeping the lights of Fonforster glow­ing, feed their souls upon the sacred writings andinform us, the people."

  "Everyone goes to Zede?" Pat asked, just tryingto prime the old man to keep talking.

  "In his own time. You see, all the gods promise it.Even if it is not, as I have been told, spelled out inthe sacred books, it was revealed, in the ancientdays, to the priests. When the time is come oneenters the place of waiting, and is given time topurify his soul in thought before undertaking the journey. I am told that it is a beautiful sleep, withsecret-revealing dreams, and that after a little sleepwe awake with the gods and those who have gonebefore. There food grows under the soft, sweetrains, and the gods themselves harvest and dis­tribute it and are one with us. There we will walk hand in hand with the great Jove, and noble Osiris,and the great Jesus."

  "My friend, my mind is truly in a muddle. Iseem to be unable to remember the names of thegods."

  The old man laughed. "You are not alone, brother.Only the wisest can remember all of them, forthere are hundreds, thousands, including those who,coming first to this place of redemption and cleans­ing labor, become gods."

  "I know Jesus," Pat said.

  "Yes, a god among gods," the old man said. Hesmiled. "Although I am now enlightened, therewas a time in my youth when I fear that I camealmost to agree with the heretics, who—" Hepaused, and looked around nervously.

  "Yes?" Pat asked.

  The old man crossed himself and then performedseveral more movements of sacred import. "They,the heretics, said that Jesus and his father werethe One God."

  After a long pause, Pat asked, "How is the jour­ney to Zede accomplished, friend?"

  "On the invisible and all-powerful wings of theangels."

  "As we are?"

  "No, no. We have no need for this gross body. We are, in eternity, not creatures of the flesh, butof the spirit."

  "Ah," Pat said. "A little sleep, and then thesoul is winged off to Zede on the wings of an­gels?"

  The old man nodded. "And thus," he said, "isthe sacred number preserved."

  "The sacred number?"

  "The number of the people. There can never bemore than twoscore past five thousand."

  Pat felt a chill. Another question was answered.There was no evidence of an expanding populationon Dorchlunt. His overflight had shown the areaaround the temple to be the only area of habita­tion on the planet. To keep the population stable must require rigid birth control, and the "sendingto Zede" of older people. Looking back, he realizedthat all of the men he'd seen seemed to be of an age between late teens and no more than forty,with the single exception of the Elder, AdrianKleeper.

  "The ancestor worlds," Pat asked, when he hadrecovered from the chilling shock of realization."Is there a name for them?"

  "The sacred names," the old man breathed, and,in a sing song, began to chant off the names of a half-dozen Zedeian planets. Of the six he named,five had been destroyed in the Zedeian war by theUP planet reducers.

  The old man clasped his hands as if in prayer,looked upward. "And the father world, the worldof Fonforster, from whence came the sacred andancient books, the treasure of the world, the trea­sure of Zede, the sacred writings and the god listsand the stories of their triumphs and acts."

  Pat had more questions ready. He was forestalledby a sound of the door opening. A priest stoodthere, smiling at the old man. "Father," the priestsaid, "you may come with me."

  A smile lit the old man's face. "It is time, then?"

  "It is time," the priest said.

  "My friend," the old man said, coming to Pat'scot to take his hand, "my journey begins. I'm sorry you're not going with me. Since your memory hasbeen blunted, I'm sure the good priests will re­fresh it, so that you may prepare for your ownjourney."

  Pat felt cold. He wished for his weapons, for anyweapon. The old man was going to his death witha smile on his face, gladness in his heart. He rose,still a bit weak, paced the small cell. He had nodoubt in his mind that he'd be next, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. Helooked around for a weapon. There were only thetwo homespun blankets on the rock ledges whichserved as cots. Otherwise the room was bare. Hewas dressed in shirt, beltless pants, underwear,and the soft, comfortable slip-on shoes he favored.A shoe was not heavy enough to make a weapon.He had only his hands. He resolved to use them when they came for him. He would not submitcalmly, without a struggle, to the injection, or whatever they used, to send a man into a littlesleep and then on that "journey to Zede."

  When the door opened he was standing with his back against the wall next to it. The door opened outward and he held his breath, waiting for apriest to step inside.

  "Pat?" That soft, throaty voice, and then she steppedinto the cell, Corinne. She'd changed from the longpurple gown into a neat coverall singlet, belted atthe waist. He lowered his hands. She saw him,turned to him and smiled.

  "I told them to bring you to me immediatelywhen they had finished," she said. She shivered. "Idid not

  intend to have them put youhere." She knew, and she accepted it. What kind ofwoman was she? He was looking at her with new eyes. "There was an old man here. He was being sent to Zede."

  She looked down, and her face saddened. "Soon,such measures will no longer be necessary. Wewill be able to educate them out of their super­stitions."

  "Corinne, just who is 'we'?" "Not here," she said. She turned and left thecell, and he followed. There were no guards, nopriests. They came out into a stone corridor, madea turn, and were back at the apartment whereshe'd stabbed the syringe into his neck. Inside, shesat down. He stood facing her.

  "I won't offer you a drink," she said, with afunny little grin. "I don't think I could stand another of yourdrinks." "Pat, it was necessary. We're so close now. Wehad to know what chance there was of your being

  followed here, and, knowing you, I don't thinkwe'd have gotten the whole truth without the drugs.There's no lasting ill effect." "As there was with the dexiapherzede?" "I didn't know that the side effects were so terri­ble. I swear that to you." "And yet you kept me pumped full of it for sevenand a half days." She looked down.

  "Why didn't you just tell me you wanted tocome here to Dorchlunt?" "I wasn't sure of you, Pat. And it was so vitalthat I get the diamond here. I couldn't go back toZ
ede II with you with the diamond aboard. They would have—" She paused.

  "The diamond is here?" She nodded. "Who are they, and what would they have donewith the diamond?"

  She sighed again. "Pat, it's a long story. Perhapswe had better have that drink."

  "I'll do it, and I'll stay carefully beyond yourreach," he said, moving to the bar to pour thatvery good Taratwo brandy. He sat on the arm ofthe sofa. She was curled into a chair, legs partiallyunder her.

  "When my brother was fifteen he went to ZedeII on a government scholarship to continue hisstudy of ancient history. He did his thesis on theZedeian war of a thousand years ago. He was quitethe young prodigy, astounding the learned profes­sors with his skill in writing, and with his ability to retain knowledge, so they opened the archives to him, gave him free run. He discovered a govern­ment file tucked away in crates of documents whichhad once been classified top secret, but were thenso old that secrecy didn't matter. Most of themwere just dry statistics—the accounts of interestabout the war had long since been removed andfiled elsewhere—but my brother was, and is, avery thorough man. He found one encoded docu­ment and spent weeks with the computers break­ing the code."

  Pat eased himself down onto the sofa. Appar­ently she was going to take a long time getting up to present-day events.

  "You know the background of the Zedeian war?"

  "In summary, yes."

  "There's more tradition still alive on the Zedeworlds than in the rest of the UP," she said. "Theirlegends are more explicit, for example. I've readthe books of Zedeian myths and legends. They refer, not too specifically, and sometimes in fanci­ful, symbolic language, to the original world, tothe Old Earth."

  "Yes, I've heard of some of those myths. Seriousscholars discount them, because, after all, the Zede worlds were settled by the same people who set­tled the original UP planets."

  "But the Zedeians, at least the traditionalists,insist that the Zede worlds were settled separately,and only later, after thousands of years, mergedwith the growing UP."

  "Well, whatever," Pat said.

  "The Zedeian myths state that before the nu­clear war on Old Earth, Earth was split by rivalrybetween two philosophies, or beliefs, or forms ofgovernment—that part is not quite clear. TheZedeians, even back in the dark beginnings of theirhistory, had a tradition of militarism. They saythat they are the descendants of the greatest raceof warriors ever produced on Old Earth, and thatwas the feeling that led, in part, to the war."