Through the mist of horror she saw that fully half the body was gone, destroyed in that long ago accident that had nearly taken the
Director’s life. The figure seemed to be struggling within the tube to raise its arm, but dead muscles refused to come into play.
The Director tried again, and then with ghastly contortions, the twisted arm raised like a dead tree branch torn about by the wind. Trailing filaments of wire hung like a spider’s web.
“Look.”
Even the artificial voice seemed to reflect the intense pain of that effort at motion.
As if hypnotized and unable to disobey, Elta stared down at the remnants of that arm. “I don’t see—” she murmured.
Peering closer then she saw it, that telltale purple mark of the Director’s brand that had been stamped a century ago when he went through the Selector.
“What should I see ?” There was nothing significant about the repulsive sight.
“Can you read it ?” The Director gasped for breath under the exertion. “Quick!”
Then the arm collapsed and fell at his side. Fie was no longer able to maintain the position. But it had been long enough. Elta had seen what he had meant her to see.
She gasped and her universe tumbled and collapsed about her. “You —a reject!”
“I was the first to come back. Does that mean anything to you?” For a moment she stared in fascinated silence. Then she breathed a single word.
“Igon.”
“Yes.”
“There are a thousand questions in your mind now,” the Director said. “But there is no time for them to be answered. Trust me. You will some day learn all the answers. Remember that I am letting you go when I should order your execution if I were nothing but the Director of the Statists. I sent Ketan back to Kronweld to keep Bocknor from killing him. Remember those two things and do as I have asked. Now, go quickly. Javins is waiting for you outside that door. He knows the way to William Douglas.”
A door opened in the wall at Elta’s left hand as if at the Director’s control. Mechanically, Elta turned and walked out, as if her body were under some control not her own.
A moment after she had gone a figure entered the main doorway. The Director scanned him with his electronic eyes. “You heard, Bocknor ?”
The fat, sharp-eyed Statist nodded. “Very clever, I think. But are you sure they know the way to the pinnacle?”
“Of course. William Douglas and Ketan have been there. William Douglas will take them there. It’s up to you from now on. Follow them carefully and see that you don’t lose them. I can’t be sure that Elta will ever contact me again. All I can know for certain is that they are headed for the pinnacle. Follow them! Don’t muff this or I think you know what the results will be.”
In the corridor, Javins was waiting for Elta. When he saw her he gathered her wordlessly into his arms.
“Father!”
After a moment he held her off and looked at her, then released her abruptly. “I’ll have to tell you later how good it is to see you. We haven’t any time to lose,” he said. He bent down and picked up a small, heavy leather case at his feet.
“Tell me what it’s all about,” Elta pleaded. “Is the Director actually Igon from Kronweld?”
Javins dropped the case and clapped a hand over her mouth. “You little fool,” he said harshly. “That could mean his life if anyone heard you.” His eyes darted about the corridor and the long thin lines of his face deepened with worry and fear. He relaxed his fierce grip upon her.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He bent down and retrieved the case. “Forgive me. But you don’t understand the magnitude of our task. Or the dangers of it. The success of his lifelong plans depends on our next few days’ work.”
Subduing the question in her mind, Elta drew the cloak about her and raised the cowl over her head. She followed silently behind her father. The stoop of his tall figure, and the fear and anxiety she had seen in his eyes touched off a pang of pity within her.
All his life he had been a mild-mannered, disgruntled servant of the Director. Now to find him involved in some incomprehensible intrigue was almost as startling as the revelations made by the Director. Director Igon.
He hurried her out to a waiting car and they sped through the city towards the airfield. Not quite there, they turned off the road into a twisting, blind alley that wound past rows of dirty, partly ruined and abandoned dwellings. It ended at the edge of the encroaching forest.
“We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot,” said Javins. “It’s a long walk, but the road is a ruin.”
They started through the forest, went around the airfield at a distance that would not betray their presence to any onlookers on the field. Eventually they came out upon the broken concrete highway.
Javins broke the silence. “I understand you know this William Douglas. Tell me what he is like. Will he cause us trouble?”
“I only saw him once. He is a doctor who lived in Danfer under a false brand for many years. He is much more intelligent than I had always thought the Illegitimates to be, however, I don’t know whether you can make him believe your story or not.”
“He is one of us, a member of a part of our group designated by limited knowledge, though I have never met him. He was sent back to accomplish certain work in organizing the Illegitimates. An unforeseen accident was responsible for the death of his wife and child. He may have been embittered and have turned against us because of that.”
“He is loyal to Ketan and believes sincerely in what he was trying to do, if that means anything to you. Please explain what this is about. I don’t understand any of it.”
Javins turned and viewed her with a smile. “I’m afraid you will not be so pleased when you know. You almost succeeded in destroying all our plans. Fortunately, your acts could be turned to our advantage. That’s the only reason you were allowed to go on.”
“But what are your plans ? Why do you wish the Gateway reopened? Surely not to—”
“Kronweld must be returned to Earth.”
“How can anyone who understands a single factor of the problem believe that such union can take place? Even Igon—”
“I was told not to argue with you about it. As if I didn’t know my own daughter well enough to not need any such instruction.”
“I still will not help you, then,” she replied solemnly. “I will fight it. Kronweld is the greatest civilization that has ever existed, but bringing it here would destroy it. The Statists, not Kronweld, would survive. No more than a generation would be required to wipe them out.”
“Don’t you think that Igon has considered all that, and planned for it? You don’t realize the strength of the man. His is the greatest brain that has ever been born upon the Earth. A hundred years from now, his name will be deified. But here I am, arguing with you. We will not discuss it further until we reach the pinnacle. Igon wants you to see it and believe.”
“I will never believe. I am still fighting you. I want you to know that.”
Darkness set in with three fourths of their journey ahead of them, but Javins had counted on that. He did not want to frighten William Douglas away. There was no way of communicating with him.
They went on more slowly, picking their way with the occasional use of a powerful finger lamp that Javins carried. Elta was swiftly becoming exhausted by the day’s events and the long journey. The slowly healing burns upon her legs were painful.
At last Javins came to a halt and peered intensely at the landmark-ing trees and boulders. “This is it,” he said, “if Igon was correct. The ship and William Douglas would be about a mile to the left over that ridge.”
Elta didn’t see how it would be possible for them to find a small ship in the blackness of the forest night, but she was too weary in body and mind to demur.
Her father seemed able to pick his way unerringly through the dark shadows about them. A dozen times she stumble
d over hidden obstacles and he lifted her up, until he took her arm with his free hand and guided her through darkness.
The Director had told him something of what to expect, but he had imagined nothing as shining and beautiful as the slim-pointed cylinder that spoke of ancient worktmanship . as it glinted in the starlight. He knew it was a far superior vessel to any built by the Statists.
Javins shook off the fascination of it and peered anxiously about. There was no sign of the Illegitimate. Javins wondered if he were in the ship. The hatch in the base was open.
“You go in and search for him,” Javins told Elta. “He knows you and will not be frightened by your coming. But I remember what you said. Don’t try to persuade him to escape with you.”
He drew out a tiny hand gun. “I will follow you shortly and be in the ship before it could take off.” Elta glanced at the gun and shrugged and marched across the small clearing. In the recesses of her mind she wondered if the gun were meant as a threat to her or to William Douglas.
She reached the hatch in the base of the ship and called his name. At
that moment there came a sharp cry from behind, across the clearing. She turned in time to see the figure of her father hurled to the ground. She raced back and faced William Douglas across the fallen form. “Elta!”
“Quick!” She pointed to the fallen leather case her father had carried. “Turn your gun upon that and destroy it!”
But William Douglas’ last impression of Elta had been as an opponent, crafty and advantage taking.
“Where’s Ketan?” William Douglas asked. “He went into the city this morning. Have you seen him? And who is this man?” The gun of the Illegitimate came up in a threatening gesture.
“I’ll tell you everything, only please destroy the box first. You must!”
“ You are an intelligent man, William Douglas. It would be best to investigate, first.”
They both whirled at the sound of Javins’ voice. He was raised up on one elbow, shaking his head and feeling the lump on the back of it.
“Who are you?” William Douglas demanded.
“Father of the zealous young lady, and executive assistant to Igon. The key is Richard Simons.”
Slowly, incredulously, William Douglas lowered his weapon. “What do you want of me? It’s been months since I heard that key. Come into the ship and tell me.”
A bit unsteady on his feet, Javins picked up the case and took Elta’s arm as they followed the Illegitimate to the ship.
“Don’t look so downcast,” he said softly.
Elta made no answer.
In the ship they sat at an unused chartman’s table in the navigator’s cabin.
“All your questions can be answered very quickly,” said Javins. “Ketan was captured by the Director and returned to Kronweld as a punishment, to be destroyed there when the Statists exterminate the entire realm. Immediately afterwards, Elta destroyed the Selector, a deed which was anticipated by Igon, and he ordered me to remove the heart of the machine so that the Gateway could be rebuilt at another time. We have been instructed to take this gauge, as the device is called, to the pinnacle and reconstruct the Gateway. We shall contact Ketan as soon as this is done and make arrangements for his people to come through.
“Incidentally, my daughter is still unconvinced of the wisdom of this, as you saw by her desire to destroy the gauge. Igon, however, believes she can be convinced by a visit to the pinnacle and be made useful to us.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Take us to the pinnacle as quickly as possible.”
Elta remained in the navigator’s room as the ship rose in the night. She did not move from her position in the little cell which gradually oriented itself along the horizontal as the ship rose and pointed its nose’ southward.
As she stared out the port in silent introspection, she tried to reconcile herself to one or the other of the extreme positions of Ketan and Igon, or of the Statists.
Certainly the plan of the Statists was one of insane murder and destruction.
But was that of Ketan’s and Igon’s group any less so, even if indirectly?
It was strange that she had found no one in accord with the middle course plan that seemed so sane to her—eternal separation of the worlds.
True, such a plan meant extinction of Kronweld through the sterility of its people, but surely that was far better than the consequences of either of the extreme plans.
She thought of Igon with his hundred years of knowledge and experience in both Earth and Kronweld. She would be willing to bow to that experience and attempt to understand his goal.
If she could be sure that Igon still lived!
As she pondered, the more unlikely it seemed that the remnant of a man in the citadel of the Statists was anything but the Director.
As such, he had been the one to conceive the plan of destroying Kronweld. Igon would have originated no such scheme for any purpose whatever. Under the Director’s leadership, hunter Statists had slaughtered Illegitimates by the thousands. Even now, a deliberate and scientific program of extermination was going on throughout the world to wipe out the isolated bands of those who had escaped the Selectors throughout the decades.
That brand he had shown her. It could be part of his subtle scheme to get her aid in reopening the Gateway so that Kronweld could be destroyed.
But final judgment wrould wait, she decided. She would see the pinnacle and learn more of her father’s dealings with the Director. She would be certain of success when next she acted.
In the meantime, the thought of the reopening of the Gate made her heart beat faster. The temptation to go through it, to see Ketan again was almost overpowering. What if it were opened, and she went through—and left behind a means of destruction which would destroy the gauge, the pinnacle, and all possible evidence that would lead to another path from Earth to Kronweld ?
She sat staring out into the silver night, her mind possessed by furious action at the thought of such a possibility.
The pinnacle rose above the swirling sand clouds like a mountain peak above a sea of fog. William Douglas pointed forward. “There it is.”
Beside him, Javins strained “eagerly, his eyes trying to pierce the darkness. “No wonder it was never found,” he murmured. “But what a sight! I’ve lived for this. A thousand times Igon has told me how he first came here, afoot after traveling for days without food over the desert. He was nearly dead when he reached here. He stayed more than a month recuperating. When he left, he took one of the vehicles stored here, a small land car. He showed it to me once.”
“Igon must be old ” said William Douglas. “He can’t live much longer. What will happen when he is gone?”
“He expects to liv£ only a few more weeks or months at the most, but he has prepared for his death. The plan for the restoration of Earth will go on.”
The ship circled slowly and caught the first rays of dawn as it swung back towards the pinnacle, towards that dark, needlelike spire. William Douglas was hesitant about bis ability to drop the ship through the narrow opening in the top of the spire. Even as he circled, he saw it open below them as if their arrival had been aw’aited.
He shot over the opening and turned the nose of the ship skyward. And then he knew he wasn’t going to have to worry about setting it down into the hole. A force gripped the ship like some great hand and removed it entirely from his control. Slowly, it settled until the walls of the pinnacle rose up on all sides like black curtains.
Javins was silent with amazement as he saw the manifestation of the automatic machinery within the pinnacle. “Igon told me of this but I could never picture it as real.” “Wait until you see the rest of it,” said William Douglas. “You’ll know you’re dreaming.”
As they emerged from the port, Richard Simons and his daughter .were waiting.
“You are back soon,” the scientist said as he advanced with a smile and outstretched hand. Then
his face sobered. “But there are strangers. And Ketan is not here. What of this, William Douglas ?” “These are from Igon,” said William Douglas. “Ketan went back to Kronweld. We have come for information on the construction of the Selector. It has been destroyed, all but the gauge.”
“What is the key?” the scientist turned to Javins.
“Richard Simons.”
His smile broke again. “Very well. We must be careful in risking the pinnacle, you know. Unauthorized entrants would be instantly destroyed.”
“It is late. You must be tired,” said Dorien. “Would you like to rest until morning and we will give
you the information you desire ?” ”
Elta was staring at the girl with the same shocked recognition that Ketan had shown. It was like the golden image before the Temple of Birth suddenly come to life.
“We would like very much to rest,” said Elta.
“The information,” said Javins, “is most important. We’d prefer that first. I’m sorry”—he turned to Elta—“I had forgotten what a day you have had. You rest. We will see the plans for the Selector.”
Reluctantly, Elta was forced by her own weariness to agree. She disliked leaving her father alone with the precious information, but she knew she was incapable of enduring more without rest.
Dorien led her away.
The sunlight that had touched the plane when it was high above the pinnacle descended to the desert in a short time, but Elta did not awaken until the sun was high. The light came through the latticed openings of the curtain and woke her. She stretched in luxurious comfort upon the soft bed and breathed deeply of the cool, fragrant air of the room. She drew the curtains then and looked out upon a landscape that made her gasp.
A garden of flowers stretched to the hills as far as she could see. On open spaces of green grass lambs played and leaped in the sun. Beside the window a slowly moving shadow of a tree echoed the rhythm of the breeze.
“Do you like it?”
The soft, musical voice came from the doorway. Dorieu stood
there smiling and then advanced and sat on the edge of the bed.
Man of Two Worlds Page 28
