The Classic Sci-Fi Collection

by Ayn Rand

  “I will,” Iimmi said.

  “Me too,” said Geo.

  “I guess so,” Urson said.

  “Good,” smiled Hama. “Then come with me.” He turned from the screen and walked through the door. They followed him down the long stairway, past the stone walls, into the hall, and along the back of the church. He walked slowly, and smiled like a man who had waited long for something finally arrived. They turned out of the temple and descended the bright steps.

  “I wonder where the kids are?” Urson asked.

  But Hama led them on, across the broad garden to where the great black urns sat in a row close to a wall of shrubbery. A woman—old Argo—suddenly joined them. She had apparently been waiting for them. She gave them a silent smile of recognition, and they continued across the garden path.

  * * *

  Light fell through the shrubbery across her white tunic and Snake’s bare back as they crouched over the contraption of coils and metal. She twisted two pieces of wire together in a final connection as Snake placed the jewel on an improvised thermocouple. Then they bent over it and both concentrated their thoughts on the bead. The thermocouple glowed red, and electricity jumped in the copper veins, turning the metal bone into a magnet. The armature tugged once around its pivot, and then tugged around once more. Finally it was whipping around steadily, the brushes on its shaft reversing the magnetic poles with each half circle of the arc. It gained speed until it whirred into an invisible copper haze between them. “Hey,” she breathed, “look at it go, will you! Just look at it go.” And the young thieves crouched over the humming motor, oblivious to the eyes of the elder gods that smiled at them from the edge of the green shift of shadow and sunlight, by the side of the marble urn.

  * * *

  CHAPTER XI

  Under the trees, she raised up on tiptoe and kissed the balding forehead of a tall, dark-robed priest. “Dunderhead,” she said, “I think you’re cute.” Then she blinked very rapidly and knuckled beneath her eye. “Oh,” she added, remembering, “I was making yogurt in the biology laboratory yesterday. There’s two gallons of it fermenting under the tarantula cage. Remember to take it out. And take care of the hamsters. Please don’t forget the hamsters.”

  Finally, they started once more around the slope of the volcano, and the temple and grove fell black and green away behind them.

  “Two days to get to the ship,” said Geo, squinting at the pale sky.

  “Perhaps we had better put the jewels together,” said Urson. “Keep them out of harm’s way, since we know their power.”

  “What do you mean?” Iimmi asked.

  Urson took Geo’s leather purse from his belt. Then he took the jewel from Geo’s neck and dropped it in the purse. Then he held the purse out for Iimmi to do the same.

  “I guess it can’t hurt,” Iimmi said, dropping his chain into the pouch.

  “Here’s mine too,” Argo said. Urson pulled the purse string closed and tucked the pouch in at his waist.

  “Well,” said Geo, “I guess we head for the river, so we can get back to your sister and Jordde.”

  “Jordde?” asked Argo. “Who’s he?”

  “He’s a spy for the blind priestesses. He’s also the one who cut Snake’s tongue out.”

  “Cut his—?” Suddenly she stopped. “That’s right: four arms, his tongue—I remember now, in the film!”

  “In the what?” asked Iimmi. “What do you remember?”

  Argo turned to Snake. “I remember where I saw you before!”

  “You know Snake?” Urson asked.

  “No, I never met him. But about a month ago I saw a movie of what happened. It was horrible what they did to him.”

  “What’s a movie?” asked Iimmi.

  “Huh?” said Argo. “Oh, it’s sort of like the vision screens, only you can see things that happened in the past. Anyway, Dunderhead showed me this film about a month ago. Then he took me down to the beach and said I should have seen something there, because of what I’d learned.”

  “See something?” Iimmi almost yelled. “What was it?” He took her shoulder and shook it. “What was it you were supposed to see?”

  “Why...?” began the girl, startled.

  “Because a friend of mine was murdered and I almost was too because of something we saw on that beach. Only I don’t know what it was.”

  “But ...” began Argo. “But I don’t either. I couldn’t see it, so Dunderhead took me back to the temple.”

  “Snake?” Geo asked. “Do you know what they were supposed to see? Or why Argo was taken to see it after she was shown what happened to you?”

  The boy shrugged.

  Iimmi turned on Snake. “Do you know, or are you just not telling? Come on now. That’s the only reason I stuck with this so far, and I want to know what’s going on!”

  Snake shook his head.

  “I want to know why I was nearly killed,” shouted the Negro. “You know and I want you to tell me!” Iimmi raised his hand.

  Snake screamed. The sound tore over the distended vocal cords. Then he whirled and ran.

  Urson caught him and brought the boy crashing down among leaves. “No you don’t,” the giant growled. “You’re not going to get away from me this time. You won’t get away from me again.”

  “Watch it,” said Argo. “You’re hurting him. Urson, let go!”

  “Hey, ease up,” said Iimmi. “Snake, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. But I do want you to tell me. Very much.”

  Urson let the boy up, still mumbling, “Well, he’s not going to get away again.”

  “When did he get away from you the first time?” Geo said, coming over to the boy. “Let him go. Look, Snake, do you know what there was about the beach that was so important?”

  Snake nodded.

  “Can you tell?”

  Now the boy shook his head and glanced at Urson.

  “You don’t have to be afraid of him,” Geo said, puzzled. “Urson won’t hurt you.”

  But Snake shook his head again.

  “Well,” said Geo, “we can’t make you. Let’s get going.”

  “I bet I could make him,” the giant mumbled.

  “No,” said Argo. “I don’t think you could. I watched the last time somebody tried. And I don’t think you could.”

  Late morning flopped over hotly in the sky and turned into afternoon. The jungle became damp, and bright insects plunged like tiny knives of blue or scarlet through leaves. Wet foliage brushed against their chests, faces, and shoulders.

  “Why would they show you a film of something awful before taking you to the beach.” Iimmi asked.

  “Maybe it was supposed to have made me more receptive to what we saw,” said Argo.

  “If horror makes you receptive to what ever it was,” said Iimmi, “I should have been about as receptive as possible.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Geo.

  “I just watched ten guys get hacked to pieces all over the sand, remember?”

  They walked silently for a time.

  “We’ll come out at the head of the river. It’s a huge marsh that drains off into the main channel,” said Argo presently.

  Late afternoon darkened quickly.

  “I was wondering about something,” Geo said, after a little while.

  “What?” asked Argo.

  “Hama said that once the jewels had been used to control minds, the person who used them was infected—”

  “Rather the infection was already there,” corrected Argo. “That just brought it out.”

  “Yes,” said Geo. “Anyway, Hama also said that he was infected. When did he have to use the jewels?”

  “Lots of times,” Argo said. “Too many. The last time was when I was kidnaped. He used the jewel to control pieces of that thing you all killed in the City of New Hope to come and kidnap me and then leave the jewel in Leptar.”

  “A piece of that monster?” Geo exclaimed. “No wonder it decayed so rapidly when it was killed.”

>   “Huh?” asked Iimmi.

  “Argo, I mean your sister, told me they had managed to kill one of the kidnapers, and it melted the moment it died.”

  “We couldn’t control the whole mass,” she explained. “It really doesn’t have a mind. But, like everything alive, it has, or had, the double impulse.”

  “But what did kidnaping you accomplish, anyway?” Iimmi asked.

  Argo grinned. “It brought you here. And now you’re taking the jewels away.”

  “Is that all?” asked Iimmi.

  “Well,” said Argo, “Isn’t that enough?” She paused for an instant. “You know I wrote a poem about all this once, the double impulse and everything.”

  Geo recited:

  “By the dark chamber sits its twin,where the body’s floods begin,and the two are twinned again,turning out and turning in.“

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “The dark chamber is Hama’s temple,” Geo said. “Am I right?”

  “And it’s twin is Argo’s,” she went on. “They should be twins, really. And then the twins again are the children. The force of age in each one opposed to the young force. See?”

  “I see,” Geo smiled. “And the body’s floods, turning in and out?”

  “That’s sort of everything man does, his going and coming, his great ideas, his achievements, his little ideas too. It all comes from the interplay of those four forces.”

  “Four?” said Urson. “I thought it was just two.”

  “But it’s thousands,” Argo explained.

  The air was drenching. The leaves had been shiny before. Now they dripped water on the loose ground. Pale light lapsed through the branches, shimmered, reflected from leaf to the wet underside of leaf. The ground became mud.

  Twice they heard a sloshing a few feet away, and then the scuttling of an unseen animal. “I hope I don’t step on something that decides to take a chunk out of my foot.”

  “I’m pretty good at first aid,” Argo said. “It’s getting chilly,” she added.

  Just then Geo slipped and sank knee-deep in a muddy pool. Urson raced to the edge of the quicksand bog and grabbed Geo by his good arm. He pulled till Geo emerged, coated to the thigh with gray mud.

  “You all right?” Urson asked. “You sure you’re all right?”

  Geo nodded, rubbing the stump of his arm with his good hand. “I’m all right,” he said. The trees had almost completely given out. Geo suddenly saw the whole swamp sinking in front of him. He splashed a step backwards, but Urson caught his shoulder. The swamp wasn’t sinking, though. But ripples had begun to appear over the water, spreading, crossing, webbing the whole surface with a net of tiny waves.

  Then they began to rise up. Green backs broke the surface, wet and slippery. They were standing now, torrents cascading their green faces, green chests. Three of them, now a fourth. Four more, and then more, and then many more. They stood, now, these naked, green, mottled bodies.

  Geo felt a sudden tugging in his head, at his mind. Looking around he saw that the others felt it too.

  “Them ...” Urson started.

  “They’re the ones who carried us ...” Geo began. The tug came again, and they stepped forward.

  Iimmi put his hand on his head. “They want us to go with them....” And suddenly they were going forward, slipping into the familiar state of half-consciousness which had come when they had crossed the river, to the City of New Hope, or when they had first fallen into the sea.

  Wet hands fell on their bodies as they were guided through the swamp. They were being carried through deeper water. Now they were walking over dry land where the vegetation was thicker, and slimy boulders caught shards of sunset on their wet flanks, blood leaking on the gray, the wet gray, and the green.

  Through a rip in the arras of vegetation, they saw the moon push through the clouds, staining them silver. A rock rose in silhouette against the moon. On the rock a naked man stood, staring at the white disk. White highlighted one side of his body. As they passed, he howled (or anyway, opened his mouth and threw his head back. But their ears were full of night and could not hear.) and dropped to all fours. A breeze blew momentarily in the sudden plume of his tail, in the scraggly hair of the under-belly, and light lay white on the points of his ears, his lengthened muzzle, his thinned hind legs. The animal turned its head once, and then scampered down the rock and into the darkness as a curtain of trees swung across the opened sky.

  Eyes of flame whipped ahead of them as water swirled their knees once more. Then the water went down and sand washed back under the soles of their feet on the dark beach. The beating of the sea, the rush of the river, and the odor of the wet leaves that fingered their cheeks, prodded their shins, and slapped against their bellies as they moved forward, all this fell away. Red eyes wavered into flaming tongues, and the tongues showed themselves housed in the mouths of a dozen caves.

  Light flickered on the wet rocks and they entered the largest one. Their eyes suddenly focused once more. Foam washed back and forth over the sand floor, and black chains of weeds, caught in crevices on the rock, lengthened over the sand with the inrush of water. Webbed hands released them.

  Brown rocks rose around in the firelight. They raised their eyes to where the Old One sat. The long spines were strung with shrunken membrane. His eyes, gray and indistinct, were close to the surface of his broad nostriled face. A film of water trickled over the rock where he sat. Others stood about him, on various levels of the rock.

  The tugging left them, and they glanced at one another now. Outside the cave it was raining hard. Geo saw that Argo’s hair had wet to dark auburn and hugged her head now, making little streaks down her neck.

  Suddenly a voice boomed at them, like an echo, more than the reverberation that the cave would give. “Carriers of the jewels,” it began, and suddenly Geo realized that it was the same hollowness that accompanied Snake’s soundless messages. “We have brought you here to give a warning. We are the oldest forms of intelligence on this planet,” continued the Old One from the throne. “We have watched from the delta of the Nile the rise of the pyramids; we have seen the murder of Caesar from the banks of the Tiber. We watched the Spanish Armada destroyed by English, and we followed Man’s great metal fish through the ocean before the Great Fire. We have never aligned ourselves with either Argo or Hama, but rise in the sexless swell of the ocean. We can warn you, as we have warned man before. As before, some will listen, some will not. Your minds are your own, now. That I pledge you. Now, I warn you; cast the jewels into the sea.

  “Nothing is ever lost in the sea, and when the evil has been washed from them with time and brine, they will be returned to man. For then time and brine will have washed away his imperfections also.

  “No living intelligence is free from their infection, nothing with the double impulse of life. But we are old, and can hold them for a million years before we will be so infected as you are. Your young race is too condensed in its living to tolerate such power at its fingers now. Again I say: cast these into the sea.

  “The knowledge which man needs to alleviate hunger and pain from the world of men is contained in two monasteries on this island. Both have the science to put the jewels to use, to the good use which is possible with them. Both have been infected. In Leptar, however, where you carry these jewels, there is no way at all to utilize them for anything but evil. There will only be the temptation to destroy.”

  “What about me?” Argo suddenly piped up. “I can teach them all sorts of things in Leptar.” She took one of Snake’s hands. “We used one for our motor.”

  “You will find something else to make your motor turn,” came the voice. “You still have to see something that you have not yet seen?”

  “At the beach?” demanded Iimmi.

  “Yes,” nodded the Old One, with something like a sigh, “at the beach. We have a science that allows us to do things which to you seem impossibilities, as when we carried you in the sea for weeks without your body decayi
ng. We can enter your mind as Snake does. And we can do much else. We have a wisdom which far surpasses even Argo’s and Hama’s on Aptor. Will you then cast the jewels into the sea and trust them with us?”

  Here Urson interrupted. “How can we give you the jewels?” he said. “How can we be sure you’re not going to use them against Argo and Hama once you get them. You say nobody is impervious to them. And we’ve only got your say so on how long it would take you to fall victim. You can already influence minds. That’s how you got us here. And according to Hama, that’s what corrupts. And you’ve already done it.”

  “Besides,” Geo said. “There’s something else. We’ve nearly messed this thing up a dozen times trying to figure out motives and counter motives. And it always comes back to the same thing: we’ve got a job to do, and we ought to do it. We’re suppose to return Argo and the jewels to the ship, and that’s what we’re doing.”

  “He’s right,” said Iimmi. “It’s the general rule again. Act on the simplest theory that holds all the information.”

  The Old One sighed again. “Once, fifteen hundred years ago, a man who was to maneuver one of the metal birds walked and pondered by the sea. He had been given a job to do. We tried to warn him, as we tried to warn you. But he jammed his hands into the pockets of his khaki uniform, and uttered to the waves the words you just uttered, and the warning was shut out of his mind. He scrambled up over the dunes on the beach, never taking his hands out of his pockets. The next morning, at five o’clock, when the sun slanted red across the air field, he climbed into his metal bird, took off, flew for some time over the sea, looking down on the water like crinkled foil under the heightening sun, until he reached land again. Then he did his job: he pressed a button which released two shards of fire metal in a housing of cobalt. The land flamed. The sea boiled in the harbors. And two weeks later he was also dead. That which burned your arm away, poet, burned away his whole face, boiled his lungs in his chest and his brain in his skull.”

  There was a pause. And then, “Yes, we can control minds. We could have relieved the tiredness, immobilized the fear, the terror, immobilized all his unconscious reasons for doing what he did, just as man can now do with the jewels. But had we, we would have also immobilized the—the honor which he clung to. Yes, we can control minds, but we do not.” Now the voice swelled. “But never, since that day on the shore before the Great Fire, has the temptation to do so been as great as now.” Again the voice returned to normal. “Perhaps,” and there was almost humor in it now, “the temptation is too great, even for us. Perhaps we have reached the place where the jewels would push us just across the line where we have never before gone, make us do those things that we have never done. You have heard our warning now. The choice, I swear to you, is yours.”