The Empire of Isher

by A. E. van Vogt

  A few minutes later he was connecting the apartment ’stat to one of his relay systems. By that roundabout fashion he called the Weapon Makers.

  Eighteen

  IT WAS PETER CADRON’S IMAGE THAT APPEARED ON THE PLATE. He was not looking at the screen at the moment of contact, but was talking with animation to someone who was out of Hedrock’s line of vision. There was no sound, and Hedrock made no attempt to guess at what the former councilor was saying. He had time to wonder again how Cadron would receive him.

  Nearly a month had passed since that night when he had been compelled to act against the Weapon Makers in self-defense. In spite of his personal admiration for the majority of the councilors, he had no regrets. Earth’s immortal man must assume his life was worth saving. For better or for worse he was what he was, and all the world must put up with him so long as he could protect himself.

  Cadron was turning toward the ’stat plate. He froze as he saw who it was, and then hurriedly he clicked on the sound control. “Hedrock,” he said, “it’s you!”

  A smile of pleasure came into his face. His eyes lighted up. “Hedrock, where have you been? We’ve been trying to contact you by every means.”

  Hedrock said, “What is my status with the Weapon Makers?”

  Cadron straightened a little. “I have been authorized,” he said, “by the retiring council to apologize to you for our hysterical actions against you. We can only assume that we were all caught up in a kind of mob attitude based on tension. I am personally sorry for what happened.”

  “Thank you. That means definitely no plotting?”

  “Our word of honor.”He broke off. “Hedrock, listen, we’ve been sitting on tenterhooks waiting for you to call. The Empress, as you know, released the drive unconditionally on the morning following the attack.”

  Hedrock had learned that on the ship coming back to Earth, but all he said was, “Proceed.”

  Cadron was excited. “We have received from her a most remarkable offer. Recognition for the Shops and a share in the government. It’s a surrender of the first order.”

  Hedrock said, “You’re refusing, of course.”

  “Eh?” Cadron’s image stared.

  Hedrock went on firmly, “You don’t really mean that the Council considered accepting. You must realize there can never be a meeting ground between two such diametrically opposed forces.”

  “But,” protested Cadron, “that’s one of the things you suggested yourself as a reason for your going to the palace.”

  Hedrock said steadily, “That was a blind. During this crisis of civilization we had to have somebody in both the Shops and the palace. Wait!”

  He went on in a ringing voice before the other could interrupt, “Cadron, the Weapon Shops constitute a permanent opposition. The trouble with the opposition of the old days was that they were always scheming for power; all too frequently their criticism was dishonest, their intentions evil; they lusted for control. The Weapon Shops never must allow such emotions to be aroused in their followers. Let the Empress rebuild her own chaos. I do not say she is responsible for the corrupt state of the empire, but the time has come for her to attempt a vigorous house-cleaning. Throughout, the Weapon Makers will remain aloof, interested, but maintaining their great standards for the relief throughout the galaxy of those who must defend themselves from oppression. The gunmakers will continue to sell their guns and stay out of politics.”

  Cadron said slowly, “You want us then to—”

  “Go about the routine of your normal business; nothing more nor less. And now, Cadron—” Hedrock smiled. “Cadron, I have enjoyed knowing you personally. Pass on my felicitations to the retiring council. I intend to present myself at the palace one hour from now; and none of you will hear from me again.

  Goodbye to all of you, and good luck.”

  He shut off the ’stat with a jerky movement and sat there conscious of that old, old pain of his. Once more he was withdrawing himself. He forced the great loneliness out of his soul at last and put his carplane down on the palace exactly on the hour. He had already called Innelda, and he was admitted at once to her apartment.

  He watched her from half-closed eyes, as they talked. She sat stiffly beside him, a tall, graceful, long-faced woman whose green eyes hid her thoughts. They sat under a palm tree in the garden that was the reception room of the thirty-fourth floor. Soft breezes blew against them; the shaded lights shed a gentle glow over the quiet scene. Twice, he kissed her, conscious that her diffidence had an inner meaning that he must bring into the open. She took the kisses with all the passivity of a slave woman.

  Hedrock drew back. “Innelda, what’s the matter?” She was silent; and he pressed on, “The first thing I find, when come back, is that Prince del Curtin, who has been almost literally your right hand, has been banished from the palace. Why?”

  The words seemed to rouse her out of some depth. She said with a shadow of fire in her tone, “My cousin has had the temerity to criticize and oppose a project of mine. I will not be badgered even by those I love.”

  Hedrock said, “Badgered you, did he? That doesn’t sound like the Prince.”

  Silence. Hedrock stared at her slantwise, then said in a persistent tone, “You practically gave up the interstellar drive for me, and yet now that you have me, I can’t feel that it means anything.”

  During the long silence that followed, he had his first thought of what all this rigidity might be. Was it possible that she knew the truth about him? Before he could speak, her low voice came, “Perhaps all I really need to say, Robert, is that there will be an Isher heir, an Isher heir.”

  The child part of the revelation hardly touched him. She knew. That was what counted. Hedrock sighed finally. “I forgot. You caught Gonish, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, I caught him; and he didn’t need very much more information than he had. A few words; and the intuition was complete.”

  He said at last, “What are you going to do?”

  Her answer came, remote-toned, “A woman cannot love an immortal man. The relation would destroy her soul and her mind.” She went on, almost as if speaking to herself , “I realize now I never did love you.

  You fascinated me, and perhaps repelled me a little, too. I’m proud, though, that I selected you without knowing. It shows the enormous instinctive vitality of our line. Robert!”

  “Yes?”

  “Those other empresses—what was your life like with them?”

  Hedrock shook his head. “I won’t tell you. I want you to make up your mind without even thinking of them.”

  She laughed in a brittle tone. “You think I’m jealous. I’m not ... not that at all.” She added in a disjointed manner, “Henceforth, I’m a family woman who intends to have the respect as well as the affection of her child. An Isher Empress can do no other. But I won’t press you.” Her eyes darkened. She said with sudden heaviness, “I’ll have to think it over. Leave me now, will you?”

  She held out her hand. It felt limp under the pressure of his lips, and Hedrock went frowning to his apartment. Sitting there alone, he remembered Gonish. He put a call through the Weapon Makers exchange, and asked the No-man to come to the palace. An hour later, the two men sat facing each other.

  “I realize,” Gonish said, “that I am going to receive no explanations.”

  “Later,” said Hedrock; then, “What are you going to do? Or rather, what have you done?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You mean—”

  “Nothing. You see, I understand just what the knowledge would do to the average and even the higher-type human being. I shall never say a word, not to the Council, not to anyone.”

  Hedrock was relieved. He knew this man, his enormous integrity. No fear was behind that promise, simply a stark honesty of outlook that would never be more than equaled. He saw that Gonish’s eyes were studying him. The No-man said, “With my training, I would have quite naturally known better than to make a test of the effect of immortality on
others. But you made it, didn’t you? Where was it? When?”

  Hedrock swallowed hard. The memory was like fire. “It was on Venus,” he said in a flat voice, “during the early days of interplanetary travel. I set up an isolated colony of scientists, told them the truth, and set them to work to help me discover the secret of my immortality. It was horrible, oh—” His voice thickened in distress. “They couldn’t stand watching my perpetual youth as they grew old. Never again.”

  He shuddered; and the No-man said quickly, “What about your wife?”

  Hedrock was silent for a long minute. He said then, slowly, “The Isher empresses in the past have always been proud of their relation to the immortal man. For the sake of the children, they put up with me. I can say no more.”

  His frown deepened. “I’ve sometimes thought I should marry oftener. The immortal strain might, just might, repeat that way. This is only my thirteenth marriage. Somehow, I didn’t have the heart even though—” he looked up—“I’ve developed a perfect method of aging my appearance, enough to have a psychological effect on those who actually know the truth.”

  There was a look on Gonish’s face that narrowed Hedrock’s eyes. He said quickly, “What’s the matter?”

  The No-man said, “She loves you, I think; and that makes it very bad. You see, she can’t have any children.”

  Hedrock rose up out of his chair, took a step forward as if he intended the No-man bodily harm. “Are you in earnest? Why she told me—”

  Gonish was bleak.“We of the Weapon Shops have-studied the Empress from childhood. Her file, of course, is accessible only to the three No-men and to the members of the Council. There is no doubt of it.”

  The No-man’s gaze fixed Hedrock sharply. “I know this wrecks your plans, but don’t take it so hard.

  Prince del Curtin is next in line and will carry on, rather strongly, I think. There’ll be another Empress along in a few generations, and you can marry her.”

  Hedrock ceased his pacing. “Don’t be so damned callous,” he said. “I’m not thinking of myself. It’s these Isher women. The trait hasn’t shown clearly in Innelda, but it’s there. She won’t give up that child; and that’s what I’m worrying about.” He swung directly toward the No-man again. “Are you absolutely sure? Don’t play with me, Gonish.”

  The No-man said steadily, “Hedrock, I’m not playing. The Empress Isher is going to die in childbirth and—” He stopped; his eyes fixed on a point beyond Hedrock.

  Hedrock turned slowly, and faced the woman who stood there. The woman said in a cold voice,

  “Captain Hedrock, you will take your friend, Mr. Gonish, and depart from the palace within the hour, not to return until—”

  She stopped and stood for a moment like a figure of stone. She finished with a rush, “Never,” she said thickly. “Never come back. I couldn’t stand it. Goodbye.”

  “Wait!” Hedrock cried piercingly. “Innelda, you mustn’t have that child.”

  He was talking to a closed door.

  Nineteen

  IT WAS DEL CURTIN WHO GOT HEDROCK INTO THE PALACE ON the final day. “We’ve got to,” the prince had whispered, “get somebody near her. She must listen to reason. My friends are going to advise that new doctor of hers, Telinger, that you’re in. Just stick to your rooms until you’re called.”

  Waiting was dreary. Hedrock paced the thickly carpeted floor, thinking of the months since he had been banished from the palace. Actually, it was the last few days that had been worst. The whisper had spread abroad. Hedrock heard it far and wide. It didn’t come over the telestats. No official word was given out; just how it became known definitely was impossible to say. He had heard it sitting in the restaurants he sometimes frequented. He heard it walking along quiet streets. It drifted on thin breezes, and rose in briefly heard voices above the clamor of conversations on carplanes. It had not been evil in intent or in actuality. It was simply, there was going to be an Isher heir any day, and the excited world of Isher was waiting for the announcement. They didn’t know it, but the day was now. The crisis came at ten o’clock at night. A message from Dr. Telinger brought Hedrock out of the study and up into the Imperial apartments.

  Telinger, Hedrock found, was a middle-aged man with a thin face, which was wrinkled in dismay as he greeted his visitor. Doctor Telinger, Hedrock knew, was guilty of nothing but weakness. He had been dragooned into the Imperial service as a replacement for Doctor Snow, who had been summarily dismissed after being court physician for thirty years. Hedrock could still remember one day at the dinner table when Innelda had inveighed against Dr. Snow, calling him “an out-dated practitioner who’s still palming himself off as a doctor on the strength of having delivered me into the world.”

  There was no doubt that old Dr. Snow had told her the exact situation; and Innelda hadn’t liked it. And there was also no doubt, Hedrock realized as he listened to Dr. Telinger, that the new doctor had never been granted the privilege of a too thorough examination. She had picked well. He looked the kind of man who would be too awed to override the resistance of his Imperial patient.

  “I’ve just discovered the truth,” he almost babbled at Hedrock. “She’s under anti-pain, but I’ve left a communication gap. Prince Hedrock, you must persuade her. It’s the baby or her, and her conviction that she will live is utterly unfounded. She has threatened me,” he finished whitely, “with death if the baby does not survive.”

  Hedrock said, “Let me talk to her.”

  She lay in the bed, calm and still. There was no color in her cheeks, and the rise and fall of her chest was so infinitesimal that she seemed already dead. Hedrock was conscious of relief when the doctor placed the communicator mask gently over that quiet yet intense face. Poor tyrant, he thought, poor, wretched, unhappy tyrant, caught up by inner forces too great for her to command or think through .

  He picked up his end of the communicator. “Innelda,” he said tenderly.

  “It’s—you—Robert.” The answer was slow in coming and yet fierce. “I told—them—not—to—let—you—come.”

  “Your friends love you. They want to keep you.”

  “They—hate—me. They think—I’m—a fool. But I shall show them. I will myself to live, but the child must live.”

  “Prince del Curtin has married a lovely and wonderful woman. They will have beautiful children, worthy of the succession.”

  “No child but mine—and yours—will rule in Isher’s name. Don’t you see, it is the direct line that matters.

  There has never been a break. There will not be now. Don’t you see?”

  Hedrock stood sad. He saw even more clearly than she did. In the old days when, under various aliases, he had persuaded Isher emperors to marry women to whom family was vitally important, it had not seemed possible that the trait could ever become too strong. Here was proof that it could be tragic. And what this unhappy woman did not realize was that the reference to her “line” was only a rationalization.

  She wanted a child of her own. That was the simple reality.

  “Robert—will you stay—and hold my hand?”

  He stayed, and watched the life force ebb away. Waited till death lay heavily on the chilling body, and the baby was a thing whose raucous yowling made him angry.

  Half a light year distant, a hundred-mile-long ship got under way. Inside it, thoughts vibrated from mind to mind:

  “... The second general examination is almost as futile as the first in its basic results. We know some, of the laws — but why did this ruler who possessed a world give her life for her child when in actuality she shrank from personal death? Her reasons that she personally must carry on her line are logically inadequate. It is only a matter of slight atomic rearrangement. Many men and women are alive who could carry forward her tribal progression.

  “It remains but to bring her back to life, and make a record of the emotional reactions of those around her to her resuscitation.

  “.. . X-x??—has investigated the appearance of
our former prisoner Hedrock at the palace, and it appears that he nullified by an ingenious method the logic that required his destruction.

  Accordingly, we can leave the galaxy within one period.

  “This much we have learned. Here is the race that shall rule the sevagram. ”

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