Spaceship of Ancestors
Page 2
"I don't understand," the doctor admitted. The psychologist smiled.
"You will soon understand. The repairman revealed a secret to me about which no one may have any knowledge. If I were to report this secret, R75 would die. But—I would have to enter the converter along with him, as I also know the secret and perhaps even the others, too, to whom I had reported it. Now do you understand why R75 is still alive?"
The doctor nodded. "Yes, now I understand. But go on what secret are you talking about?"
The psychologist looked at the menacing silver rod.
"Can you stick that thing back in your pocket, D3? It makes me nervous to keep looking into the lens
of a death ray. Thanks, my friend. Yes, the secret... Of course R75 could not see all the details exactly because it wasn't bright enough. Still the dim lighting sufficed for him to make out two long rows of transparent blocks with enough room between them for the guards to move freely. Cables and plastic tubing connected each of the blocks to machines built into the wall. In the blocks themselves was a turbid fluid that must be thicker than water, as it did not move. But in that fluid—people were floating."
"What...?" gasped the doctor, turning pale. "People?"
The psychologist nodded. "In every block there was a naked person—men and women. And do you know who these people are? No, you don't Then I shall tell you, D3! Those people are our ancestors who, as the story goes, died 10,000 years ago! That's right, they did not die back then, but they descended into the depths of our world and lay down to sleep, guarded by their metal attendants. They dominate not only us but the Commander as well and compel us to obey their will—the will of beings allegedly long since deceased, D3! Now are you beginning to realize by what deception we are being victimized?"
The physician slowly shook his head. "It can't be possible, PS5. I know what you think but I cannot imagine it! We can't be slaves of long dead..."
"They are not dead!" The psychologist almost shouted but then he shut his mouth in terror. If anyone overheard him he was doomed.
"You mean they are still alive?" the doctor said in disbelief. But then he recalled that he himself was a physician and that he should be more familiar with this subject than his friend. "Naturally. What sense would well-preserved but dead bodies make? So they are alive! But—why are they alive? And—who knows about it?"
The psychologist leaned forward. "We do, D3! We know about it! And R-75—however he doesn't suspect that I wormed his knowledge out of him. And that is good. I dismissed him from treatment without informing his superior of the cause of the disturbance. Perhaps he will keep his mouth shut—then he will still live awhile."
"Alright, so we know—and what do we do with this knowledge?"
"If you really look at it—what do we know? Somewhere in an unexplored part of our world lie our ancestors in a deep sleep, preserved through the centuries—at least that was their intention. But perhaps they are really dead by now, perhaps they died because of some unforeseen error and only their bodies have been preserved. We can still imagine their intentions. They wanted to be reawakened one day when our world has reached its destination. The interim generations, so I assume, merely served the purpose of keeping the machinery going. We believed that we were working and living for ourselves but in reality we only did it for the slumberers in the center of our metal world. I would just like to know whether the Commander knows the truth or whether he too is being led around by the nose."
D3 looked at the psychologist pensively. "With this weapon in my hand I feel safe—who else besides me has a weapon? Only the guards. They can be outwitted; they are not people, only machines. I, on the other hand, have not one raygun but three. I can give you one. Then we could risk questioning the Commander openly and requesting clarification."
"You've got courage," the psychologist enviously acknowledged. He reflected a few seconds, then continued, "Way back when I was in school my greatest problem was the meaning of our existence. I knew that we were born in children's homes and would never see our fathers. And our mothers were soon taken from us when we were brought to the institutions. Then school and finally apprenticeship or higher studies. Arid then our work, until we were old enough to die in the converter. Even in death we serve our people, as our bodies supply energy. The course of our lives is clear and predetermined but the meaning is lacking. What is it all about? Why? Which goal are we striving towards? Or is our world perhaps wandering aimlessly through the universe of the suns?"
"We know very little about the suns," said D3 reminding him of their lessons in school. "We know the traditions, no more than that. And who knows if these traditions aren't false, concocted by those sleeping in the center of our world and waiting for their hour." He hesitated a moment, then slowly said: "There is a better solution than asking the Commander. We are going to undertake something."
"What are we going to undertake?"
"We are going to enter that room again together with R75, the room where our ancestors are sleeping. Perhaps that way we will find out what they planned."
The psychologist was visibly startled but then he overcame his fright and nodded hesitantly.
"Perhaps you are right, D3. I would rather die with certainty in my heart than live on in ignorance. When do we do it?"
"Today," the doctor replied and got up. "You can have Repairman 75 summoned. I will hide in the adjoining room and appear if it becomes necessary."
As he went to the door he took the raygun out of his pocket and released the safety mechanism. He seemed determined not to take the slightest risk.
That was fine by him, thought PS5 as he depressed the intercom button and gave his instructions.
• • •
Repairman 75 could not shake off the memory of that event that was already months past. When he was asleep he was plagued by gruesome dreams. Over and over again he saw his colleague stricken and killed by the glaring energy fingers. Over and over again he heard the metallic footsteps of the guards approaching from out of the darkness to grab him with their cold hands. But each time he awoke just in time to avoid experiencing the dreaded moment.
Perhaps one day he would no longer be dreaming and they would really come to lead him to the converter. Fortunately no one knew his secret. As long as he kept silent he was safe.
And then there were those long rows with the motionless bodies. What were they? Were those dead out of the past who were kept there for some unknown purpose? For what? What was the meaning behind those corpses that had been lingering for millennia in their burial chamber?
Or... were they not dead at all?
R75 had often asked himself that question without receiving an answer. His knowledge was limited to technical matters and he understood very little about medical science.
He cringed on hearing the shrill tones of the communicator. The voice of his superior issued from the loudspeaker: "You are to report to the Psychology Sector, R75. At once! Confirmation, please!"
I understand," R75 managed to reply. With trembling hands he straightened his suit and went to the door. What did they want from him now? Hadn't he passed the test? Or, worst of all, had they become suspicious and wanted to retest him?
The lift brought him to the right level. As he walked along the corridor he tried in vain to think of one fact that might have aroused the suspicion of the Psychology Sector. To no avail. He knew, though, that there was always a reason for being summoned by the psychologists. That was what bothered him so much.
As he closed the door behind him, he already knew that his situation was not as serious as he had feared. The psychologist smiled at him—at him, a plain worker.
"Sit down, R75," PS5 said patronizingly and pointed at a chair. "I would like to ask you a few questions and I want you to please answer truthfully. You have nothing to fear but you should know that keeping silent can only cause difficulties in your situation. Have I made myself clear?"
R75 could feel his initial relief vanish in one blow. The psychol
ogist was still smiling but this smile had now come to signify a trap.
I don't know..." R75 began but he was immediately interrupted.
"You shall know in a moment, my friend. But first I just want to tell you one thing: after our talk there will only be two alternatives remaining, either you and I will continue to live or both of us will be compelled to take the road to the converter. The decision is yours."
"The converter?"
"Yes, the converted. To be brief: a few days ago you were here because you were sent to me. I gave you psychotreatment and discovered the truth about the death of your colleague—and thus I also discovered your secret. Don't be frightened; your secret is safe with me. If I were to report it, I would die with you. I hope that puts your mind at ease."
R75 indeed seemed to be relieved. He was intelligent enough to comprehend the significance of the psychologist's words. He nodded mutely.
"So far so good. We agree," PS5 continued. "Since you have grasped the situation I don't see why I shouldn't just give it to you straight." He turned and called in the direction of the half-open door that led to the adjoining room. "Doc, you can come in. I think we can describe our plan to R75..."
D3 shoved the raygun in his pocket as he entered the room and greeted R75 with a nod of the head. Then he took a seat in the third chair.
R75 knew at that moment that the number of possible death candidates had increased to 3.
• • •
They encountered neither a person nor a guard.
R75 was leading them. He didn't feel very well in that role. He knew that the two men behind him were armed and determined to kill every opponent on the spot no matter what the consequences would be. But R75 still lacked confidence in the unfamiliar weapons. He had never seen them in a person's hand in action.
They glided with the lift towards the center of the gigantic spherical world and approached the unfamiliar regions of the engine rooms. Neither the physician nor the psychologist had ever come this far. Their world was the sparkling clean hallways of the scientific sections. R75 on the other hand, was at home everywhere so to speak. His occupation could assign him to any part of the ship.
He stopped. "It isn't far now. Actually no people are allowed in this far. I am surprised that we haven't met any guards."
"The guards are machines. They lack impulsive thinking, at best they think logically. They don't suspect anyone is here because no one has any business here. Let's not forget that they have probably been performing their duties for 10,000 years and as far as we know the history of our race, there has never been an event like this. We are the first who have attempted to probe the secret."
"Perhaps others have tried before us," interjected the doctor. "They died with their secret as no one heard about it."
"Unlikely, my friend. I doubt that even the guards know about it, or at most only the ones that live behind the wall and attend to the slumberers."
"Perhaps," D3 conceded and fell silent.
"Let's move on," said PS5 impatiently and weighed the raygun appraisingly in his hand. He knew from the doctor how it functioned but only trying it could convey the true power of the weapon.
The light became dimmer, they could hardly see their hands in front of them. These regions of the ship were seldom entered, so energy was conserved here. It seemed the supply was not inexhaustible.
R75 walked on. Then he stopped before one door. It was thick and massive, sunken into the wall, but one attempt proved that it was not locked.
"Behind it is the back room of the entire air regeneration system. From there I alerted my foreman. Shall we go in?"
"That's what we are here for!" PS5 impatiently nodded and took up the lead. He held his weapon ready to fire but his precaution was unnecessary. Except for the mighty generator blocks and control panels the room was empty.
The dim light still sufficed to show up the rectangular spot-welded in the opposite wall. It was clear to be seen that a hole had been drilled at that spot and later closed.
"That's where it was," said R75 and shuddered as the memory overcame him. What he had thus far
only experienced in nightmares seemed to suddenly want to take on reality. "But I have no tools with me. How do you expect to break through?"
PS5 did not answer. However, the doctor raised the hand that held the raygun. "With this!" he said with determination. "There is enough energy in here to melt away the entire wall. But it's easier than that. All we have to do is remove the piece you inserted."
R75 nodded uncertainly. He seemed to suddenly have qualms but then he was convinced by the look on the faces of his two companions that there was no turning back. The decision had been made and could never be revoked.
D3 winked encouragingly at PS5 and R75.
"Step back a little. It would be best back there in that corner. The energy rays could be reflected. We must be careful. I'm not that completely familiar with the weapon."
He waited until the two men had retreated to safety, then ducked behind a metal block and aimed the lens at the spot in the wall marked by the welded seam.
The pale ray melted on the wall but was not reflected. Fluid metal began to drip heavily onto the ground, solidifying into bizarre puddles. At first D3 was too blinded by the glare to see but then his eyes became accustomed to the brightness. He knew that he would not see a thing when he had switched off the weapon, at least not for the next 10 minutes.
The molten hole cooled very slowly at the edges. During that time the men were able to become accustomed to the prevailing twilight. R75 stared doggedly at the hole they had created. Finally he murmured: "If I had known then what I would find behind there, I would never have climbed in. It's strange, really, that I wasn't afraid then. Today it's a different story."
"A danger that you know is no danger anymore," PS5 said more cold-bloodedly than he felt. His hand felt its way around the beveled edge of the entry hole. "It's slowly cooling off. If there is an alarm system, the guards will soon appear. How long did it take that time, R75?"
"I can't say exactly. I did the repair and then I looked around. Well, maybe an hour."
D3 looked at his watch. "A half hour has passed, so we don't have much more time." Suddenly he smiled hollowly. "Who's going first?"
The psychologist knew that one of them would have to assume the role of leader if the enterprise were not to fail. His last reservations fell as he realized that clearly. It wasn't actual courage that suddenly inspired him but more the thought that he could no longer avoid his destiny. No matter what would happen to him, it became all-important to discover what was hidden in the center of the gigantic ship.
"I'm going first," he said and bent over to crawl through the narrow hole. "You may follow if you like."
Without waiting for an answer he forced his way through the opening and straightened up on the other side of the wall after he had moved aside to make room for the others following him.
It was not only dusky but perfectly quiet as well. None of the usual sounds of the ship could be heard here but the air was good, even though ice cold. Little lamps set into the ceiling glowed at regular intervals, providing a murky light. Extensive control panels on the walls betrayed the presence of a hidden installation that served some unknown purpose.
The psychologist's gaze fell on the two long rows of glass blocks. The fluid must have a high specific weight, as the motionless bodies were lying on the surface, barely submerged. That was just about how a piece of wood would float on mercury.
"Fantastic," a voice whispered beside him. It was the physician. "If I weren't seeing it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe it."
It seemed as if PS5 were awakened from a dream. "We have no time to lose. Let's go."
He kept his weapon poised in his hand as he slowly walked over to the first block. The doctor followed him, while R75 remained standing by the opening to cover them from the rear. He, too, had received a raygun and knew how to use it.
They stopped in front of th
e first block.
The two men looked down at the thin, well-built body of a white-haired youth asleep on the surface of the cloudy fluid. His eyes were closed but it looked as if he could open them at any moment to gaze in astonishment at the intruders. The thin-lipped mouth that fitted so well with the small but energetic chin was also closed. Not even the slightest movement of the nostrils disclosed that there was even a trace of life left in the resting body.
The man was naked. His sallow skin color differed only slightly from the fluid. The arms lay limply close to his body, as if they did not belong to him. His legs were slightly bent, as if the unknown man had tried to make one last movement before he fell asleep.
The cables and tubing ended on top, in the glass case. Only now did PS5 and D3 notice that a barely visible gas was continually flowing into the container and then being drained out by another tube. The lighting was not adequate enough to determine whether the slumberer was inhaling the gas or not.
PS5 carefully placed his hand against the block. Almost instantly he jerked it away. "Cold!" he whispered. "That liquid must be colder than ice."
"Colder than ice but still fluid," the doctor nodded, raising his eyebrows. "The life process was abruptly stopped by freezing. It can set it again anytime. Sometime—today or in the distant future—that will be the case."
The psychologist remained silent. He took one last look at the sleeper before moving on. In the next block a woman was lying.