The Instant of Now

by Irving E. Cox

hisspace-map the mirrored pinpricks of sun systems glittered likemicroscopic gems scattered over the curve of a gigantic black saucer.Dirrul had never been so far from Agron. He felt a stifling sense ofinsignificance.

  The meaning of time as he understood it was somehow overwhelmed by theimmensity of space. Now and yesterday, today and tomorrow, became asingle unity. Dirrul had a new sense of the past in terms of thepresent. His mind groped for word symbols that he understood whichcould crystalize the shadowy new concept filling his mind.

  New understanding seemed to arise from the space-map. Somewhere amongthe glowing points of light was the Place of the Beginning, a singleplanet called Earth. In the far-distant past Earthmen had madethemselves rational beings. But for centuries thereafter they had madeno further progress, apparently appalled by the audacity of suchpresumptive evolution. They had fought through a long primitive periodof violence, erecting system on system and philosophy upon philosophyto conceal, destroy and wipe out their own biological machinery.

  Then out of a final orgy of death and terror the Earthmen had graspedthe meaning and the responsibility of the Rational Potential. They hadunderstood the reality of being.

  Within a century after that they had conquered space. They had foundpeoples like themselves occasionally--but more often races that hadfollowed different biological adaptations to different environments.Wherever there seemed to be a spark of primitive rationality theEarthmen had stayed and patiently taught the Rational Potential ofbeing, which they had learned for themselves only after suchbloodshed.

  The galaxy was theirs, in a sense, for it thought in the patterns ofEarthmen, although long ago their direct influence had waned. Theywere a legend and an ideal, lost in the vastness of space, yet boundfast into the cultures of all peoples.

  Yet somewhere the Earthmen must have failed, somewhere there must havebeen a flaw in their teaching. Fifty years earlier, as the Agroniansmeasured time, the galaxy had been torn apart by war. The Agronianshad led one group of planets, the Vininese another. Planet afterplanet was seared by deadly new weapons--world after world died in theorange flame of gaudy atomic disintegration. Slowly the power of Vinincrept across the sky until the Vininese ruled half the galaxy.

  Their first defeat had come unexpectedly. Their great space-armadaswung in on Agron, while the people crowded in terror in their flimsyraid shelters. But the Vininese ships had vanished high in the air.Not even debris had fallen on the planet.

  It was the first use of the Nuclear Beams. Dirrul had been a schoolboywhen the Agronian scientists announced their discovery. He rememberedthe exciting thrill of pride, recalled how he and his schoolmates haddreamed of destroying the Vininese with the new weapon.

  He remembered too the galling bitterness he had felt when thescientists announced that they had made peace instead.

  They had had sound reasons, of course. They said the Beams had alimited value. They could be used only defensively to girdle a singleplanet in the stratospheric level of its atmosphere. Elsewhere theywere harmless. To compound the spectacular timidity, the scientistshad given away the secret to all comers, including the Vininese. Theyhad an argument for that particular idiocy too--if each planet couldprotect itself so easily from all external attack its people couldfreely decide for themselves their galactic allegiance or maintainisolated independence.

  The Planetary Union had been formed and members of the VinineseConfederacy invited to join it. Not a people anywhere in theConfederacy made even tentative exploration of the offer while fivesun systems of the Union later joined the Vininese. That was the factthat had ultimately prodded Dirrul into joining the Movement.

  Later, when he read the pamphlets brought from Vinin, he had clarifiedhis purposes. On the one hand lay the waste, the confusion, theuncertainty of Agron. Scientists who talked forever of hypotheses andwere afraid to stand firm for any absolute truths--moralists whoqualified even the simplest standards of right and wrong--philosopherswho glorified a condition of eternal chaos which they called an openmind.

  On the other hand lay the clean efficiency of Vinin. Scientificcertainty, and the progress that stemmed from it--the Space-dragoninstead of the Safe-sweet candy, a clear social organization in whichthe individual was directed by established and inflexible principles.

  The whole of it was history as Dirrul had learned it, the chronologyof the past. As he looked on the star map of the galaxy, at midpointbetween the two great unions of planets, the meaning of the past beganto change. The chronology fell into a new perspective.

  Against the vast expanse of space time twisted into a newrelationship. Time and space began to equate with an excitingsynonymity. History was not the past, dead and numbered--history wasnow. All things, all space, all time, were forever fixed at theinstant of now.

  In Dirrul's mind a tumult of facts trembled on the verge of astartling new order--the atomic structure of all energy and the blacksaucer of the galaxy. The violent spasms the Earthmen had sufferedbefore they found the Rational Potential and the devastation of theGalactic War.

  But before he could assess such new values and verbalize the newgeneralization the antiquated warning system of his ship twangedtinnily. On the control panel screen he saw the trim outline of awhite Agronian police ship. A moment later the voice came over thespeaker, ordering him to state his permit registry and hisdestination.

  Dragged so suddenly back to reality, Dirrul reacted in panic. It was aroutine inquiry. He might have bluffed his way clear. Instead he putthe cargo ship at top speed toward Vinin and watched helplessly whilethe patrol cruiser closed relentlessly in.

  "Stand for search!" the voice commanded.

  When he did nothing the police shot a warning rocket over his bow. Asecond shot struck the rear of the cargo ship and tore away a sectionof landing gear. Swearing, Dirrul tried to maneuver out of range, andto a certain extent he was successful. But piloting skill could notmake up for the cumbersome bulk of his unarmed ship. Two more blastshit him, collapsing the forward compartment and knocking out one powertube.

  At the point of triumph, however, the police patrol turned away andleft Dirrul limping alone in space. For a moment he was puzzled. Inanother ten minutes they could have boarded the cargo carrier and madehim prisoner. But he understood when he glanced again at the starmap--the Agronian police had pursued him far into Vininese territory.If Vininese patrols had found them there it might have created anunpleasant intergalactic incident.

  Dirrul made a quick survey of the damage. He had only one power tubeintact--beyond that, the cargo carrier was wrecked and he had on boardnothing with which to make repairs. He could move ahead only atquarter-speed.

  Sorgel had put a time limit of one hundred days on the trip to Vinin.Headquarters had to know by then of the Plan on Agron. Dirrul had fivedays left and as the hours ran out he was still grinding slowly towardthe outer atmosphere of Vinin. Quite aware that proper securitydemanded the message be delivered in person, Dirrul nonetheless facedthe alternative of losing everything if he waited.

  Logically weighing all factors, he concluded he would not be riskingtoo much, considering the stakes, if he used the teleray. Agronmonitors could pick it up, of course, and no doubt the outpoststations were instructed to record all messages emanating from withinthe territory of Vinin. But Dirrul knew the Air-Command.

  They wallowed in the same luxury and comfort enjoyed by the rest ofthe Planetary Union. Outposts personnel, so far from the capital,would be even less likely to take their duties seriously than Dirrul'sown unit.

  He tried to make the information enigmatic to the curious and at leastsuggestive to the Vininese. He used the landing Wave-code 373. Thesmall red light on the control panel glowed and he knew he hadestablished contact. In carefully chosen Vininese he spoke into theteleray mouthpiece.

  "Sorgel requires help for Glenna-Hurd Plan. Exactly fifty days, theirtime."

  He repeated the message. As an afterthought he gave his own positionand asked for emergency repair assistance. The whole meaning hingedup
on the names of Glenna and Hurd. However, since they had been takento Vinin, they should already have outlined the Plan to the Vininesecommand. If there were any doubts Headquarters could teleray forclarification. When his speaker remained silent Dirrul assumed he hadbeen understood.

  He began to feel the pull of Vininese gravity, found himself introuble with his ship. He tried to keep the disabled cargo carrierrelatively stationary, so that the Vininese repair ships could locatehim. With only one power tube, however, maneuver was impossible. Thebattered ship plunged out of control toward the planet.

  For an hour Dirrul fought with all the skill he knew. A thousand feetabove the surface he managed to force the ship to level offtemporarily. He had no time to seek a proper landing area and in anycase his gear had been shot away.

  There was a wide flat plain directly below him, in the distance thetowering mass of a large city silhouetted against a range ofmountains. Dirrul headed his ship for the open fields, setting thesafety devices for a crash landing.

  He hung around his