The Empire of Isher

by A. E. van Vogt

  He cut her off grimly: "Creel, I've been to the weapon shop. I want you to do this: go straight to your mother. I'm here at my shop. I'm going to stay here day and night until it's settled that I stay ... I shall go home later for some food and clothing, but I want you to be gone by then. Is that clear?"

  Color was coming back into her lean, handsome face. She said: "Don't you bother coming home, Fara. I'll do everything necessary. I'll pack all that's needed into the carplane, including a folding bed. We'll sleep in the back room at the shop."

  Morning came palely but it was ten o'clock before a shadow darkened the open door; and Constable Jor came in. He looked shamefaced.

  "I've got an order here for your arrest," he said.

  "Tell those who sent you," Fara replied deliberately, "that I resisted arrest-with a gun." The deed followed the words with such rapidity that Jor blinked. He stood like that for a moment, a big, sleepy-looking man, staring at that gleaming, magical revolver; then:

  "I have a summons here ordering you to appear at the great court of Ferd this afternoon. Will you accept it?"

  "Certainly."

  "Then you will be there?"

  "I'll send my lawyer," said Fara. "Just drop the summons on the floor there. Tell them I took it."

  The weapon shop man had said: "Do not ridicule by word any legal measure of the Imperial authorities. Simply disobey them."

  Jor went out, seemingly relieved. It took an hour before Mayor Mel Dale came pompously through the door. "See here, Fara Clark," he bellowed. "You can't get away with this. This is defiance of the law."

  Fara was silent as his honor waddled farther into the building. It was puzzling, almost amazing that Mayor Dale would risk his plump, treasured body. Puzzlement ended as the mayor said in a low voice:

  "Good work, Fara; I knew you had it in you. There's dozens of us in Glay behind you, so stick it out. I had to yell at you just now because there's a crowd outside. Yell back at me, will you? Let's have a real name calling. But first, a word of warning: the manager of the Automatic Repair Shop is on his way here with his bodyguards, two of them."

  Shakily, Fara watched the mayor go out. The crisis was at hand. He braced himself, thought: Let them come, let them-

  It was easier than he had expected, for the men who entered the shop turned pale when they saw the holstered revolver. There was a violence of blustering nevertheless, that narrowed down finally to:

  "Look here," the man said, "we've got your note for twelve thousand one hundred credits. You're not going to deny you owe that money."

  "I'll buy it back," said Fara stonily, "for exactly one thousand credits, the amount actually paid to my son."

  The strong-jawed young man looked at him for a long time. "We'll take it," he said finally, curtly.

  Fara said: "I've got the agreement here."

  His first customer was old man Miser Lan Harris. Fara stared at the long-faced oldster with a vast surmise, and his first, amazed comprehension came of how the weapon shop must have settled on Harris' lot by arrangement. It was an hour after Harris had gone that Creel's mother stamped into the shop. She closed the door.

  "Well," she said. "You did it, eh? Good work. I'm sorry if I seemed rough with you when you came to my place, but we weapon-shop supporters can't afford to take risks for those who are not on our side.

  "But never mind that. I've come to take Creel home. The important thing is to return everything to normal as quickly as possible."

  It was over. Incredibly, it was over. Twice, as he walked home that night, Fara stopped in midstride, and wondered if it had not all been a dream. The air was like wine. The little world of Glay spread before him, green and gracious, a peaceful paradise where time had stood still.

  Thirty-one

  THE EMPRESS said, "Mr. de Lany."

  Hedrock bowed. He had disguised himself slightly, and taken one of his long discarded names so that she would not recognize him at some future date.

  "You have sought an interview?" said the Empress of Isher.

  "As you see."

  She toyed with his card. She had on a snow-white gown that accentuated the tan of her face and neck. The room in which she received him had been made up to resemble a small south sea island. Palms and green growth surrounded them. And on every side was water, lapping on a beach as real as nature. A cool wind blew from that restless sea onto Hedrock's back and into her face. The woman gazed bitterly at Hedrock. She saw a man of earnest mien and commanding appearance. But it was his eyes that startled her. They were strong and kind and infinitely brave. She hadn't expected such special qualities. The visitor took on sudden importance. She looked down at the card again.

  "Walter de Lany," she said thoughtfully. She seemed to listen to the name as she spoke it, as if she expected it to acquire meaning. Finally she shook her head, wonderingly. "How did you get in here? I found this appointment on my list and took it for granted that the chamberlain must have arranged it because it involved necessary business."

  Hedrock said nothing. Like so many Imperials, the chamberlain lacked the defensive mind trainings. And, though the empress herself had them, she did not know that the weapon shops had developed energy methods for forcing instantaneous favorable response from the unprotected. The woman spoke again.

  "Very strange," she said.

  Hedrock said, "Reassure yourself, Madam. I have come to solicit your mercy on behalf of an unfortunate, guiltless man."

  That caught her. Once more her eyes met his, flinched from the strength that was there, then steadied.

  Hedrock said quietly, "Your Majesty, you are in a position to do an act of unparalleled kindness to a man who is nearly five million years from here, swinging from past to future as your building forces him ever further away."

  The words had to be spoken. He expected her to realize instantly that only her intimates and her enemies would know certain details about the vanishing building. The way the color drained from her cheeks showed that she was realizing.

  "You're a weapon shop man?" she whispered. She was on her feet. "Get out of here," she breathed. "Out!"

  Hedrock stood up. "Your Majesty," he said, "control yourself. You are in no danger."

  He intended his words to be like a dash of cold water. The suggestion that she was afraid brought splashes of color into her face. She stood like that for a moment and then, with a quick movement, reached into the bosom of her dress and drew out a gleaming white energy weapon. "If you do not leave instantly," she said, "I shall fire."

  Hedrock held his arms away from his body like a man being searched. "An ordinary gun," he said in amazement, "against a man who carries a weapon shop defensive? Madam," he said, "if you will listen to me for a moment—”

  "I do not," said the empress, "deal with weapon shop people."

  That was merely irritating. "Your Majesty," said Hedrock in a level voice, "I am surprised that you make such immature statements. You have not only been dealing with the shops the last few days, you have yielded to them. You have been compelled to end the war and to destroy your time-energy machines. You have agreed not to prosecute the officer-deserters but only to discharge them. And you have granted immunity to Cayle Clark."

  He saw in her face that he had not touched her. She was staring at him, frowning. "There must be a reason," she said, "that you dare to talk to me like this."

  Her own words seemed to galvanize her. She turned back to her chair and stood with finger poised over the ornamental arm. "If I should press this alarm," she said, "it would bring guards."

  Hedrock sighed. He had hoped she would not force him to reveal his power. "Why not, then," he suggested, "press it?" It was time, he thought, that she found out her true situation. The woman said, "You think I won't?" Firmly, her extended finger pressed downward.

  There was silence except for the lapping of the waves and the soft sound of the lifelike breeze. After at least two minutes Innelda, ignoring Hedrock as if he did not exist, walked twenty feet to a tree, and
touched one of the branches. It must have been another alarm, because she waited-not so long this time-and then walked hurriedly over to the thick brush that concealed the elevator shaft. She activated its mechanism and, when there was no response, came slowly back to where Hedrock waited, and sat down in her chair. She was pale but composed. Her eyes did not look at him but her voice was calm and without fear. "Do you intend to murder me?"

  Hedrock shook his head, but said nothing. More strongly now, he regretted that he had had to reveal to her how helpless she could be, particularly regretted it because she would undoubtedly start modernizing the defenses of the palace in the mistaken belief that she was protecting herself against superior weapon shop science. He had come here this afternoon prepared for any emergency, physical or mental. He could not force her to do what he wanted but his fingers blazed with offensive and defensive rings. He had on his "business" suit and even weapon shop scientists would have been amazed at the variety of his armor. In his vicinity no alarm energies would come to life and no guns would operate. It was the day of the greatest decision in the history of the Solar System, and he had come mightily girded.

  The woman's eyes were staring at him with somber intensity. "What do you want?" she said. "What about this man you mentioned?"

  Hedrock told her about McAllister.

  "Are you mad?" she whispered when he had finished. "But why so far? The building is only-three months."

  "The ruling factor seems to be mass."

  "Oh!" Silence then. "But what do you want me to do?"

  Hedrock said, "Your Majesty, this man commands our pity and our mercy. He is floating in a void whose like no human eyes will ever see again. He has looked upon our Earth and our sun in their infancy and in their old, old age. Nothing can help him now. We must give him the surcease of death."

  In her mind Innelda saw the night he pictured. But she was more intent now, seeing this event in its larger environment. "What," she said, "about this machine you have?"

  "It is a duplicate of the map machine of the weapon shops." He didn't explain that he had built it in one of his secret laboratories. "It lacks only the map itself, which was too intricate to fashion swiftly."

  "I see." Her words were automatic, not a real response. She studied his face. She said slowly, "Where do you fit into all this?"

  It was a question that Hedrock was not prepared to answer. He had come to the Empress of Isher because she had suffered a defeat and, her position being what it was, it was important that she should not remain too resentful. An immortal man, who was once more interfering in the affairs of mortals, had to think of things like that. "Madam," he said, "there is no time to waste. The building is due here again in one hour."

  The woman said, "But why cannot we leave this decision to the weapon shop council?"

  "Because they might make the wrong decision."

  "What," persisted Innelda, "is the right decision?" Sitting there, Hedrock told her.

  Cayle Clark set the controls so that the carplane would make a wide circle around the house.

  "Oh, my goodness I" said Lucy Rail Clark, "Why it's one of these up-in-the-air places—”

  She stopped and stared with wide, wondering eyes at the grounds below, at the hanging gardens, at the house floating in the air. "Oh, Cayle," she said, "are you sure we can afford it?"

  Cayle Clark smiled. "Darling, I've explained to you a dozen times, I'm not going to do it again."

  She protested. "That isn't what I mean. Are you sure the empress will let you get away with it?"

  Cayle Clark gazed at his wife with a faint, grim smile. "Mr. Hedrock," he said slowly, "gave me a weapon shop gun. And besides, I did a great deal for Her Majesty which -at least, so she told me on the telestat today-she appreciates. She doesn't dissemble very much, so I have agreed to continue to work for her in much the same way."

  "Oh!" said Lucy.

  "Now don't get yourself upset," said Cayle. "Remember, you yourself told me that the weapon shops believed in one government. The more that government is purified the better off the world will be. And believe me—” his face hardened—”I've had just enough experience to make me want to purify it."

  He landed the carplane on the roof of the five-story residence. He led Lucy into the interior, down into the world of bright, gracious rooms where she and he would live forever.

  At least, at twenty-two or three, it seemed as if it would be forever.

  Epilogue

  MCALLISTER had forgotten about the personal decision he intended to make. It was so hard to think in this darkness. He opened his tired eyes, and saw that he was poised moveless in black space. There was no earth under him. He was in a time where the planets did not yet exist. The darkness seemed to be waiting for some colossal event. Waiting for him.

  He had a sudden flash of understanding of what was going to happen. Wonder came then, and a realization of what his decision must be: resignation to death.

  It was a strangely easy decision to make. He was so weary. Bitter-sweet remembrance came of the days in far-gone time and space, when he had lain half-dead on a battlefield of the middle twentieth century, resigned to personal oblivion. Then he had thought that he must die so that others might live. The feeling now was the same, but stronger and on a much higher level.

  How it would be worked he had no idea. But the seesaw would end in the very remote past, with the release of the stupendous temporal energy he had been accumulating with each of those monstrous swings.

  He would not witness but he would aid in the formation of the planets.

  End of Book I

  Book II - The Weapon Makers

  The Weapon Makers

  The Second Book of the Empire of Isher

  By A. E. van Vogt

  Contents

  Book I: The Weapon Shops of Isher

  Book II: The Weapon Makers

  Introduction

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Back Cover

  Introduction

  For centuries the Isher Dynasty has ruled a huge empire that includes earth and other planets. The Dynasty's power is checked only by the Weapon Makers, a group of dedicated scientists who prevent total take-over, who provide checks and balances to the Dynasty's political establishment. Now, for the first time in history, there is a spy among the Weapon Makers. He is in the confidence of the young Empress. Then Why is it the Empress herself who insists that he be killed? Why has she conceived this passionate hatred of Captain Hedrock? Suddenly the brilliant captain is hunted by both powers ... and not even his incredible talent for survival is likely to help.

  Originally serialized in Astounding Science Fiction in 1943.

  First published in book form in 1946.

  Published as One Against Eternity in 1947.

  The Second Book of the Empire of Isher was published before the first.

  The first was a “fix-up” novel which combined:

  "The Seesaw" (Analog Science Fiction and Fact, July 1941)

  "The Weapon Shop" (Analog Science Fiction and Fact, December 1942)

  "The Weapon Shops of Isher" (Wonder Stories, February 1949)

  One

  HEDROCK ALMOST FORGOT THE SPY RAY. IT CONTINUED TO glow, the picture on the screen showing the Imperial conference room as clearly as ever. There were still men bowing low over the hand of the cold-faced young woman who sat on the throne chair, and the sound of their voices came distinctly. Everything was as it should be.

  For Hedrock, however, all interest in that palatial room, that courtly scene, had faded. The icy words of the young woman spun around and around i
n his mind, though minutes had now passed since she had spoken them.

  “—Under the circumstances,” she had said, “we cannot afford to take further risks with this Weapon Shop turncoat. What has happened is too important. Accordingly, General Grail, you will, as a purely precautionary measure, arrest Captain Hedrock an hour after lunch and hang him. The time sequence is important, as he will, as usual, sit at my table during lunch, and also because I wish to be present at the execution.”

  “Very well, Your Majesty—”

  Hedrock paced back and forth in front of his viewing machine. Finally, he stared again at the screen, which, in its present materialized form, occupied an entire corner of the apartment. He saw, with a somber awareness, that the young woman was still in the conference room, alone now. She sat, a faint smile on her long face. The smile faded as she touched an instrument on her chair and began to dictate in a clear, bell-like voice.

  For a moment, Hedrock allowed the meaning of the routine palace matters she was discussing to penetrate his mind; then he withdrew his attention. There was a purpose in his mind, a hardening determination not to accept the failure that was here. Very carefully, he began to adjust his machine. The scene showing the young empress faded. The viewing plate flickered with formless light, finally caught the face of a man, and steadied. Hedrock said, “Calling the High Council of the Weapon Makers.”

  “It will take a minute,” said the man on the screen, gravely, “to bring the various councilors to their locals.”

  Hedrock nodded stiffly. He was suddenly nervous. His voice had been steady enough, but he had the feeling that it would deteriorate into a quaver. He stood very still, consciously relaxing the tension. When he looked again at the screen, a dozen faces had replaced the one; enough members for a quorum. He began at once an account of the sentence of death that had been pronounced on him. He finished, finally:

  “There is no doubt that something important is happening. Time and again during the last two weeks, when an Imperial conference has been called, I have found myself headed off into tedious conversations with superior officers, prevented from returning to my rooms. To my mind, however, the significant factor of the hanging order is the time element involved. Note that I am not to be arrested until an hour after lunch, that is, about three hours from now. And then, too, I was allowed to return to my apartment in time to hear the sentence pronounced. If they know the Weapon Shops, they must realize that, given three hours warning, I have ample time to escape.”