The Empire of Isher

by A. E. van Vogt

  Hedrock shrugged. “I knew something was being prepared for me. My apartment has been searched every day for a week. I’ve been subjected to the most boring sustained monologues by the prize dunderheads in the Army office. Wouldn’t I be a simpleton if I hadn’t thought of every angle?”

  “What I don’t understand,” chimed in a young man, “is the snake business. Why do you think your knowledge of that proves you not guilty? That’s too deep for me.”

  “Don’t be such an ass, Maddern,” said Prince del Curtin. “It simply means that the Weapon Shops knew intimate details of Innelda’s palace life long before Captain Hedrock ever came. It shows the existence of a spy system more dangerous than anything we ever suspected, and the real charge against Captain Hedrock is that he has been remiss in not telling us that such a system existed.’”

  Hedrock was thinking: Not yet, not yet. Somewhere along here the crisis would come suddenly, and then his action must be swift, perfectly timed, decisive . Aloud, he said coolly, “Why should you worry?

  Three thousand years have proven that the Weapon Shops have no intention of overthrowing the Imperial government. I know for a fact that the spy ray is used with great discretion, and has never been employed at night except on the occasion that Her Majesty had the snake smuggled in from the palace zoo. Curiosity made the two women scientists in charge of the machine on that occasion continue their watch. The story was, of course, too good to keep in a file. And you may be interested, Your Majesty, to know that two psychological articles were written about it, one by our greatest living No-man, Edward Gonish.”

  From the corners of his eyes Hedrock saw that the slim, lithe body of the woman was leaning forward, her lips were slightly parted, her eyes wide with an intense interest. Her whole being seemed to move according to his words. “What,” she half whispered, “did he say about me?”

  With a shock, Hedrock recognized his moment. Now, he thought, now

  He was trembling. But he couldn’t help his physical condition, nor did he care. A man threatened with death was expected to show agitation, or else he was considered unhuman, cold—and received no sympathy. His voice rose against the pattern of babble from distant tables, a little wildly and passionately.

  But that, too, was good, for a woman was staring at him with Wide eyes, a woman who was half child, half genius, and who hungered with all her intense emotional nature for the strange and exotic. She sat with shining eyes, as Hedrock said:

  “You must be mad, all of you, or you would not constantly underestimate the Weapon Shops and their lineally-developed science. What a petty idea it is that I have come here as a spy, that I am curious about some simple little government secret. I am here for one purpose only, and Her Majesty is perfectly aware of what it is. If she kills me she is deliberately destroying her better, greater self; and if I know anything about the Isher line in the final issue they draw back from suicide.”

  The Empress was straightening, frowning. “The presumption of your purpose,” she snapped, “is only equaled by your cleverness.”

  Hedrock paid no attention to the interruption. He refused to give up the initiative. He rushed on, “It is apparent that you have ail forgotten your history, or are blinding yourself to the reality. The Weapon Shops were founded several thousand years ago by a man who decided that the incessant struggle for power of different groups was insane, and that civil and other wars must stop forever. It was a time when the world had just emerged from a war in which more than a billion people had died, and he found thousands of individuals who agreed to follow him to the death. His idea was nothing less than that whatever government was in power should not be overthrown. But that an organization should be set up which would have one principal purpose: to ensure that no government ever again obtained complete power over its people.

  “A man who felt himself wronged should be able to go somewhere to buy a defensive gun. What made this possible was the invention of an electronic and atomic system of control which made it possible to build indestructible weapon shops, and to manufacture weapons that could only be used for defense.

  That last ended all possibility of Weapon Shop guns being used by gangsters and criminals, and morally justified placing dangerous instruments in the hands of anyone who needed protection.

  “At first people thought that the Shops were a sort of underground anti-government organization that would itself protect them from harm. But gradually they realized that the Shops did not interfere in Isher life. It was up to each individual or group of individuals to save their own lives. The idea was that the individual would learn to stand up for himself, and that in the long run the forces which would normally try to enslave him would be restrained by the knowledge that a man or a group could be pressed only so far.

  And so a great balance was struck between those who govern and those who are governed.

  “It turned out that a further step was necessary, not as a protection against the government, but against rapacious private enterprise. Civilization became so intricate that the average person could not protect himself against the cunning devices of those who competed for his money. Accordingly, a system of Weapon Shop courts was set up, to which people could turn when they felt themselves aggrieved in this fashion.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Hedrock saw that the Empress was becoming restive. She was not a Weapon Shop admirer, and since his purpose was to impress with the absurdity of her suspicions, and not to change her basic attitude, he came to his point:

  “What is not clearly realized by the government forces is mat the Weapon Shops are, because of their scientific achievements, more powerful than the government itself. They understand of course that if they should be foolish enough to overthrow the Empress they would not necessarily have the support of the population, and that in fact they would upset the stability which their presence has made possible.

  Nevertheless, the superiority is a fact. For that reason alone, the Empress’ accusation against me is meaningless, and must have some other motivation than the one she has stated.”

  Hedrock had too sharp a sense of dramatic values to pause there. His main point was made, but the reality was so harsh that he instantly needed a distraction, something on a different level entirely; and which, yet, would appear to be part of the whole. He rushed on: “To give you some idea of the great scientific attainments of the Weapon Shops, I can tell you that they have an instrument which can predict the moment of death of any person. Before I came to the palace six months ago, for my own amusement I secured readings as to the death moments of almost every person at this table and of the members of the Imperial Council.”

  He had them now. He could see it in the strained faces that looked at him with a feverish fascination. But still he could not afford to lose control of the conversation. With an effort, he forced himself to bow at the white-faced ruler. Then hastily he said, “I am happy to announce, Your Majesty, that you have a long and increasingly honorable life ahead of you. Unfortunately—” His voice took on a darker tone, as he raced on: “Unfortunately, there is a gentleman present who is destined to die—within minutes.”

  He did not wait to see the effect of that, but turned in his chair, a tigerishly swift movement. For there was no time to waste. Any instant his bluff might be called; and his show end in a ludicrous failure. His voice bawled across the space that separated him from a table where sat a dozen men in uniform:

  “General Grail!”

  “Eh!” The officer who was to carry out the hanging order whipped around. He looked startled when he saw who it was.

  It struck Hedrock that his bellow had brought complete silence to the room. People at every table had stopped eating, stopped their private conversations, and were watching the royal table, and him.

  Conscious of his greater audience, Hedrock pushed his voice forward in his mouth, tightened his diaphragm, and brought forth the ringing question, “General Grail, if you were to die this minute, what would be the cause?”


  The heavy-faced man two tables away stood up slowly. “I’m in perfect health,” he growled. “What the devil are you talking about?”

  “Nothing wrong with your heart?”Hedrock urged.

  “Not a thing.”

  Hedrock thrust his chair back and climbed to his feet. He couldn’t afford errors due to awkward positions. With a jerk, he raised his arm and pointed at the general with his finger, rudely.

  “You’re General Lister Grail, are you not?”

  “That’s right. And now, Captain Hedrock, I resent most violently this—”

  Hedrock cut him off, “General, I regret to announce that, according to the records of the Weapon Shops, you are due to die at exactly one fifteen o’clock today from heart failure. That’s this minute, this—second.”

  There was no stopping now. With a single, synchronized motion, Hedrock bent his finger, shaped his hand to receive the gun materialized on an invisible plane by the gun ring on his finger.

  It was no ordinary, retail-type gun, that unseen, wizard’s product, but a special Unlimited never sold across counters, never displayed, never used except in extreme crises. It fired instantly on a vibration plane beyond human vision; and, as the general’s heart muscles were caught by the paralyzing force, Hedrock unclenched his hand. The invisible gun de-materialized.

  In the pandemonium that followed, Hedrock walked to the throne chair at the head of the royal table and bent over the Empress. He could not suppress a tingle of admiration, for she was completely, abnormally calm. Emotional, erotic woman she might be, but in actual moments of excitement, during the hour of vital decision, all the great, basic stability that was her Isher inheritance came to the fore. It was that quality of utter sanity in her that he had appealed to; and here it was, like a precious jewel, shining at him from the quiet viridescence of her eyes. She said finally: “I suppose you realize you have, by implication, confessed everything by your killing of General Grail.”

  He knew better than to deny anything to the supernal being she had for that sustained moment become.

  He said, “I was advised of the sentence of death, and by whom it was to be carried out.”

  “Then you admit it?”

  “I’ll admit anything you wish so long as you understand that I have your best interests at heart.”

  She looked incredulous. “A Weapon Shop man, whose organization fights me at every turn, talking about my interests?”

  “I am not, never have been, never will be, a Weapon Shop man.” Hedrock spoke deliberately.

  A startled look came into her face, then, “I almost believe that. There’s something strange, and alien, about you, something I must discover—”

  “Some day, I’ll tell you. I promise.”

  “You seem very sure that I shall not have somebody else hang you.”

  “As I said before, the Ishers do not commit suicide.”

  “Now you’re on your old theme, your impossible ambition. But never mind that. I’m going to let you live, but for the time being you must leave the palace. You can’t convince me that an all-purpose spy ray exists.”

  “Can’t I?”

  “You may have had such a machine prying into the palace when I was sixteen, but since then the whole palace has been fitted with defense screens. Those can be pierced only by a two-way communication machine. In other words, there must be a machine inside as well as out.”

  “You’re very clever.”

  “As for the pretense,” the Empress went on, “that the Weapon Shops can see into the future, let me inform you that we know as much about time travel, and its impossible limitations, as the Weapon Shops.

  The see-saw principle involved is only too clearly recognized, with all its ever-fatal end results. But again, never mind that. I want you to leave for two months. I may call you back before then, but it all depends.

  Meantime, you may transmit this message to the Weapon Shop council: What I am doing is not in the faintest degree harmful to the Weapon Shops. I swear that on my honor.”

  For a long moment, Hedrock gazed at her steadily. He said at last, softly, “I am going to make a very profound statement. I haven’t the faintest idea of what you are doing, or going to do, but in your adult life I have noticed one thing. In all your major political and economic moves, you are actuated by conservative impulses. Don’t do it. Change is coming. Let it come. Don’t fight it, but lead it, direct it.

  Add new laurels of prestige to the famous name of Isher.”

  “Thank you for your advice,” she said coldly.

  Hedrock bowed, and said, “I shall expect to hear from you in two months. Goodbye.”

  The hum of renewed conversation was mounting behind him as he reached the series of ornate doors on the far side of the room. He passed through, and then, out of sight, quickened his pace. He reached the elevators, stepped into one hurriedly, and pressed the express button for the roof. It was a long trip, and his nerves grew jumpy. Any minute, any second, that mood of the Empress could wear off.

  The elevator stopped, the door opened. He was stepping out before he noticed the body of men. They came forward at the double march and instantly hemmed him in. They were in plain clothes, but there was no mistaking that here were police.

  The next instant one of the men said, “Captain Hedrock, you are under arrest.”

  Three

  AS HE STOOD THERE ON THE PALACE ROOF FACING THAT score of men, his mind, adjusted to victory, could not accept the threatening defeat. Here were enough men to handle any resistance he might attempt. But that did not slow his purpose.

  The Empress must have known when she gave the order to intercept him that he could only draw the worst conclusions, and fight with every power that he could muster. The time for subtlety, injured innocence and cleverness was past. His deep baritone clashed across the silence:

  “What do you want?”

  There were great moments in the history of the world when that bellow of his had produced a startled lull in the will to action of better men than any that stood here before him. It had no such effect now.

  Hedrock felt astounded. His muscles, dynamically ready for the run that was to take him through the ranks of the men while they stood paralyzed, tensed. The large carplane which had seemed so near a moment before, only twenty-five feet, tantalized him now. His purpose, to reach it, collapsed into an awareness of his desperate situation. One man with one gun against twenty guns! True, his was an Unlimited, and like all Weapon Shop guns projected a defensive half circle around its owner, sufficient to counteract the fire of eight ordinary weapons, but he had never underestimated the capacity of a blaster.

  His hard, mental assessment of his position ended as the huskily built young man who had pronounced him under arrest stepped forward from the group and said crisply, “Now, don’t do anything rash, Mr.

  Weapon Shop Jones. You’d better come quietly.”

  “Jones!” said Hedrock. Shock made the word quiet, almost gentle. Shock and relief. For a moment, the gap between his first assumption and the reality seemed too great to bridge without some superhuman effort of will. The next second he had caught hold of himself and the tension was over. His gaze flashed with lightning appraisal toward the uniformed palace guards who were standing on the fringe of the group of plain-clothes men, interested spectators rather than participants. And he sighed under his breath as their faces remained blank of suspicion. He said, “I’ll go quietly.”

  The plain-clothes men crowded around him, and herded him into the carplane. The machine took off with a lurch, so swiftly was it maneuvered into the air. Breathless, Hedrock sank into the seat beside the man who had given him the Weapon Shop password for the day. He found his voice after a minute.

  “Very bravely done,” he said warmly. “Very bold and efficient, I may say, though, you gave me a shock.”

  He laughed at the recollection, and was about to go on when the odd fact struck him that his hearer had not smiled in sympathetic response. His nerves
, still keyed to unnatural sensitivity, examined that small, jarring fact. He said slowly, “You don’t mind if I ask your name?”

  “Peldy,” the man said curtly.

  “Who thought of the idea of sending you?”

  “Councilor Peter Cadron.”

  Hedrock nodded. “I see. He thought if I had to fight my way to the roof, I’d be needing help by the time I got there.’

  “I have no doubt,” said Peldy, “that that is part of the explanation.”

  He was cold, this young man. The chill of his personality startled Hedrock. He stared gloomily down through the transparent floor at the unreeling scene below. The plane, conforming to speed regulations, was slowly heading deeper into the city. The strain of his transcendental purpose, which required that he keep from all men the knowledge that he was immortal, was briefly hard to bear. Hedrock roused himself finally and said, “Where are you taking me?”

  “To the hotel.”

  Hedrock considered that. The Hotel Royal Ganeel was the city headquarters of the Weapon Makers.

  To be taken there indicated that something serious had happened.

  The Hotel Royal Ganeel was about two hundred years old. It had cost, if he remembered correctly, seven hundred and fifty billion credits. Its massive base spread over four city blocks. From this beginning, it went up in pyramidic tiers, streamlined according to the waterfall architecture of its age, leveling off at twelve hundred feet into a roof garden eight hundred feet long by eight hundred feet wide, the hard squareness of which was skillfully alleviated by illusion and design. He had built it in memory of a remarkable woman who was also an Isher empress, and in every room he had installed a device which, properly activated, provided a vibratory means of escape.

  The activating instrument, unfortunately, was one of the three rings he had left behind him in the palace.

  Hedrock grimaced in vexation as he headed with the others from the plane to the nearest elevator. He had spent careful moments deciding not to wear more than the ring gun lest suspicion fall upon those remarkable secret machines of the Weapon Shops. There were other rings in secret panels scattered through the hotel, but it was doubtful if a man with twenty guards escorting him to the great section of the building occupied by the Imperial City headquarters of the Weapon Makers would have any time for side trips.