He shrugged. “A few of your lives were, including your origin, if I recall correctly. It does not matter. My branch of the Church is a bit more liberal and less orthodox than the one you know, in any case. You see, my church is on Mars.”
She was suddenly wide awake. “Huh?”
“You understood me correctly. Mars.”
“But—that’s nuts! I know for a fact that them Outworlders are monsters—horrors.”
“That’s quite true, in a physical sense and from our vantage point as what we call ‘human beings,’ but it is only physical. Inside, they are humans, and so am I and so are you. Even outside, some have great grace and beauty, and can do many things that you and I cannot, as well as everything you or I can do.”
“You couldn’t live on Mars,” she said skeptically. “Hell, I may have forgot more’n I can ever learn, but I know there ain’t no air up there.”
“Not enough air, and not in the right mixture, but, nevertheless, it is true. I am a Martian. I was born and raised there.”
“You downtimed,” she guessed. “You tripped over before comin’ back here.”
He grinned. “See? You aren’t so dumb as you think you are. It is true that this is not my natural form, although I am a priest—and I’m fated to be a priest, no matter when in time I stop. I am certain I don’t have to explain that to you.”
“You can say that again.”
“So, Holly, tell me—am I human or not?”
“You are now.”
“So, tell me, Holly, what makes a human being? Is a human being this physical flesh or what is inside the head?”
She shook her head in irritation. “I don’t know. I ain’t smart enough no more to figure that one out.”
“Well, I have seen the future of the human race. I have seen both futures of the human race. I have seen the Earth sink into a horror of misery and degradation, a humanity enslaved whose very souls are captive from birth to the dictatorial whims of a government elite, its resources depleted, its air fouled almost beyond redemption. The Earth of the future is death. The elite live over three hundred years, on average, in technological comfort. The slaving billions of the future have an average lifespan of less than thirty years—worse than in your own time by far, and live in a wasteland of medieval primitiveness. There’s no power, no unspoiled vegetation, and few animals, except on the elite’s preserves, where even human beings are hunted for sport. I can prove this. I have many pictures of this future Earth, or you could be taken there to a far corner to see for yourself.’’
She sighed. “I believe you. So the shits will inherit the Earth. What else is new?”
“We are,” he replied softly. “Listen, my ancestors came to the New World and found great civilizations there. We did not try to integrate them into our society—we destroyed theirs. A priest of the Catholic Church burned the entire master royal library of the Mayan people in the Yucatan, and others of the Church and the Spanish state destroyed much of what was left. We destroyed their culture and reduced those proud people to slavery, and we were proud of it. They had a different culture, a different religion, and they looked and dressed wrong by European standards. They were, therefore, not human to my ancestors, but subhumans, intelligent but not ever equals.
“When this old world began to run out of its exploitable resources, the fuels and minerals that made civilization good for everyone, they had to go out to the planets to find more, and find them they did. The trouble was, they were in places Earth humans could not live without expensive and extensive life support. Mars had much value beneath its rusty soil; many of the asteroids and moons of Jupiter and Saturn had even more. To change those places to the type on which humans could live and work easily would take a fortune—and centuries. Earth did not have centuries, and the amounts it needed from its planetary sisters was far too great and too expensive to be economically feasible. The only solution they had to this was to make humans into creatures that could live in such places as easily as men could live on Earth. Not easily—but at least as easily as men lived in the Antarctic cold and the desert wastes of the Sahara. Do you follow me so far?”
She nodded. “I think so. They got a bunch of people and changed them into monsters.”
“Not exactly. There was no shortage of volunteers. Skilled technicians and scientists were lured by the challenge and the romance of it. Workers were drawn from the poor and the dispossessed who saw a chance for becoming something great. It was a new frontier, and it was tamed, in a way, by such a breed. Scientists, romantics, and both losers and criminals—the same mix that colonized the Americas. And like the colonists of the Americas, they were taken for granted, used, and abused by an Earth grown fat and dependent on their labors. Cultures which had no trouble destroying the Mayas or oppressing the American colonists found even less of a moral problem with the Outworlders. They did not look human at all, but in many cases like strange beasts. They gave the Earth what it craved in abundance, and the Earth accepted magnanimously. But they were human here—inside their bodies”— he tapped his chest—“and they found themselves regarded as animals and treated as property.”
“And they’re gettin’ even.”
“Perhaps. Being human, I’m afraid that’s a part of it. But they will not be the new Mayans. Earth was totally dependent on them. When individual employees of a key mining company staged a major strike, they were ruthlessly rounded up and put to death by the Earth authorities. That began a massive revolt that swept through the solar system like a fire. Earth was ill prepared and ignorant of history. The Outworlders were too angry to be afraid, and so, at great cost, they seized control of the most vital thing in the whole system—the transportation network. The supplies stopped, and Earth was strangled. Within weeks things began to break down. Within months they were in a crisis state. Within a year they were reduced to a horrible situation, with mass starvation and the collapse of the energy which was never very cheap and was now very dear. Most humans had taken such things for granted. They didn’t know how to work the land without machines, nor could a non-mechanized civilization feed, clothe, and house its people. Governments by necessity were forced to act brutally and ruthlessly. What was left, in the end, was a terrible, crushing military dictatorship which created a miniature of their old world, in which they alone got the resources and comforts that were left from the masses who slaved for them or died.”
“Seems to me it’d be easier to make a deal.”
“That’s what we thought, but the collapse was so swift and sudden, the military authorities so absolute and doctrinaire, and nations which had hated each other for centuries merged their ruling classes out of common need. They are sixteenth-century Spain faced with a Mayan revolt in which the Mayans have superior arms and position and all the resources. They will not deal with the subhumans, even though they need them, and their own fears and terrors and prejudices see only a domination by inhuman monsters. They see themselves as saving humanity, and will fight to the death for that ideal. And it is a terrible tragedy, for the inhuman monsters they so horribly fear are their own children.”
His face and tone took on a distant look. “See me. Am I not a human being? Yes, I am that—and more. I am the future. I am the way man broke with his follies and his wastefulness and spread to other worlds. I am the path to human survival, for through me humanity will continue to grow, spread, and thrive, to explore and experiment and wonder about the next hill, the next ocean, the next star. And if my skin is white, or black, or yellow, or a chitinous exoskeleton; if I breathe oxygen or methane—I am still a human being. I have seen the currents of air rushing down the great valleys of Mars, and I have stood upon the shores of great sand seas and watched a thousand colors reflect the pale sunlight. While my brothers grovel in the filth of ancient Earth, I have the freedom of the stars and know the wonders of God firsthand.”
She was impressed in spite of her tiredness and confusion, but Doc had been right. She had followed it all, and still had thinki
ng doubts.
“Eric said you would destroy the human race.”
“We can’t destroy it without destroying ourselves. Our fight is for many things, but it is not to destroy. One day, God willing, we will go to the stars and sow our seed, perhaps meet other of God’s creations. We wish to save the people of Earth. Their own rulers wish to destroy what they cannot control, not us. We could have destroyed all life on Earth years ago. We are a rescue mission, a liberation movement, and a vision of man’s future. For my part, I have a more personal motive. I am a priest of the Holy Roman Catholic Church, yet I am denied ever visiting Rome as myself, ever seeing the great dome of St. Peter’s or the wonders of the Sistine Chapel, if, indeed, they still exist in my time. I wish to walk the streets of Campeche on the Gulf Coast of the Yucatan, where my great-grandfather was born and generations of my family before that. I cannot be denied the present or my future, but I am still robbed of my past which is my birthright.”
“Why are you telling me all this? What is your fight to me now?”
“Because we are the cause of your problems, and you are the solution to the last of ours. We have been buying time, as you might remember. Time to make certain that when Earth’s last defenses collapse, they will not destroy this world which is my parent and my birthright and all its people. Earth was so weak it was difficult not to win. Our computers examined the time lines and came up with the pattern which has proven invaluable in staving off that collapse. We bore in on the children, but particularly Joseph and Ginny, after you were gone. We filled them with fear and showed them horrors as the Outworlders’ legacy, while concealing that which was good, beautiful, and even great. We convinced them that we were the greater evil, and then allowed them to escape below.”
She sat up and stared at him. “You allowed them to escape?’’
“I’m afraid so. Joseph, as Eric, reopened the time project, and created quite a mess for us to straighten out. The edge continued on, and his and his sister’s efforts greatly lengthened the war. All but a few of the great stockpiled weapons of planetary destruction have now been neutralized. Depending en the skill of our extraordinary team, it may soon be over. Then we will come down and liberate the Earth, not as conquerors but as children returning to aid their elderly and infirm parents. The leadership will pack up and escape to their rear time base, while giving the commands to destroy the Earth after they leave. They will go. It is too difficult to stop them. But the Earth will survive and they will not know it.”
She did not feel like Dawn, and she certainly didn’t feel like anyone’s mother, and so it was a great surprise to her that she felt sudden anger well up inside her at what he now said. “You deceived my children and turned them to evil? My Joseph and Ginny?’’ She half rose from her chair in anger, and only a steady gaze from his sad, dark eyes stopped her from going any further.
“Yes. Two lives dirtied so that millions, perhaps billions, may live. It is a sad choice of war. Our Lord went to the cross to save even more.”
“Yeah, but he could get up and go again stronger than ever!”
“And so may you and those children. Get some rest here, relax, get your mind and heart clearly in order. When you are ready, we can rejoin the children not long after you left. When the time comes for final victory, you will all go forward to join the future—human, if you wish, helping in the massive job of rebuilding the Earth, or the other kind of human, going out to explore and learn and claim the stars.”
She stared at him, and wanted very much to believe him, but she just wasn’t sure. And, of course, there was another problem. “You’re forgetting who and what I am now.”
“What are you? Nothing that Mary Magdalene was not at one time. She chose correctly and achieved greatness and eternal salvation.”
“But—them kids! They won’t take me as their mom! And I sure as hell don’t feel like no mom!”
“You are still very much their mother, and that love and bond is still within you. You have just proven that. The rest is cosmetic, and that is a trivial matter. Have I not just been saying that this is at the heart of that great and terrible war? If you knew what a Martian human looked like, you would not worry. Physical adjustments as minor as yours, using our biology or the old-time method meticulously controlled by the computer, are too minor to even mention.”
She had to grant him that, and for the first time felt some real hope. “But if I go through this last thing, if I close this last loop, then Eric won’t ever have existed. Won’t that screw up the plan?”
“Ron Moosic exists, and so do you. Eric will be cut off, a leftover at the edge of time. Remember, all that has happened so far actually happened. We wipe out only the record, not the event. What will happen to him, only time can tell, if you’ll pardon me.”
She felt suddenly very weary and very old, more accepting his proposition than understanding, let alone embracing, it. What was truth and what was lies? Who was real and who was just downtiming the night side?
Only time will tell, she thought, drifting off in the chair. If they let it.
EPILOGUE
LEADING EDGE, MAIN TIME LINE
It literally looked like Hell in the Party’s headquarters; half the place seemed to be on fire. Actually, dozens of frantic aides were rushing about pulling and destroying files, computer records, and all the basic control machinery that had managed Earth for so long a time from this tiny spot. Of particular import were all materials in any medium referring to time travel, the time project, or the master computer far downtime.
These were the lucky ones—the one hundred men and women who would be allowed to go back. There might have been more, but there were only one hundred time belts available and the prehistoric complex could comfortably house and provide for no more than a few hundred anyway.
A dozen were the Central Committee, of course, and that was to be regretted, but no project like this could go through to completion unless they were included, even if they were far older than would be useful. The rest were family, close associates, trusted aides, and their families.
Most of the complex of several thousand thought they were going, too, and awaited the transfer of the first hundred with nervous anticipation. The belts were then to be homed back to the time control complex and be used again, and again, a hundred at a time, until all were safe.
They didn’t know how limited the facilities were downtime, and never suspected for a second that those belts would never return.
Nor did they know that Chairman Shumb had already read in what were known as the Armageddon Codes into the master computers worldwide that would explode within an hour of the Chairman’s own farewell with such monstrous force that they might well shake Earth’s orbit and blow so much radioactive debris into the air that the world would be plunged into a horrible, cold darkness for years, while radioactivity scoured the planet of even the hardier forms of life.
They didn’t even know about the massive superbomb sitting underneath this very complex, which, when it went, would make their silly scramble to destroy all records and controls an exercise in childish futility.
Max Shumb sighed, looked at his watch, then got up from his big desk and looked around the office he’d occupied for so many years. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to give up what had become so much a part of him, but it was either do so or perish with the Earth. He had no intention of doing that. One of these days they might work out a way back there in the great prehistoric wasteland to keep this from happening, to prevent what was now inevitable. He liked to think so, if only because of the great art and great works of literature he would lose here.
The death of the population of the Earth did not trouble him in the slightest. Only a few human beings really mattered other than himself. The rest were mostly cattle, easily replaced if you had enough time and enough women.
General Kolodin entered and saluted smartly. “Sir, we are ready to transport and time is getting short. I must insist that you come with me immediately
.”
Chairman Shumb nodded and sighed. “Yes, you’re right, Alexei.”
The general looked around the room and read his leader’s thoughts. “It’s not really gone, you know. Not so long as the belts work.”
Shumb grinned. “You know just what to say every time.”
“The Russian is a pragmatist at all times. It is the climate that does it.” He paused a moment. “There is still the matter of Eric Benoni.”
“Huh? Second Wave, isn’t he? Won’t that take care of itself?”
“Sir, he’s quite clever and he thinks well ahead for self-preservation. He is insisting on First Wave priority.”
“That son-of-a-bitch is a pushy bastard, isn’t he? He’s the one who was supposed to bail us out and instead we’re riding down the toilet, and now he expects to get a free ride. Where is he now?”
“In the reception area near the time project control center.”
Shumb nodded. “Well, come on, Alexei. Time to march forward into the past. On the way down we’ll find a squad of protectors and order them to shoot the son-of-a-bitch.”
THE NIGHT SIDE
“I know where I came from, but where did all you zombies come from?”
Robert A. Heinlein, particularly in his short fiction, had an annoying habit of raising questions that he never thought worth solving, I think mostly because he was going for an emotional reaction to which such things would have brought needless complexity. For that level of complexity, he needed a novel, and he didn’t turn to answering those questions from the shorts when he wrote his long work, but rather other concepts.
I have a different reaction to such things.
In “They,” Heinlein writes of the classic paranoid who is institutionalized because he comes to believe that the whole world is being put on for his benefit alone. I hope I’m not destroying a classic for any of my readers by noting that, of course, Heinlein closes with the director of the asylum worrying about the subject escaping, and uttering those wonderful lines, “New York City and Harvard University are now dismantled. Divert him with those sectors. Move!”
Downtiming the Night Side Page 27