_The Reason_
"Let me ask you one thing, Tallis," MacMaine said. "Would you doanything in your power to save Keroth from destruction? Anything, nomatter how drastic, if you knew that it would save Keroth in the longrun?"
"A foolish question. Of course I would. I would give my life."
"Your life? A mere nothing. A pittance. Any man could give his life.Would you consent to live forever for Keroth?"
Tallis shook his head as though he were puzzled. "Live forever? That'stwice or three times you've said something about that. I _don't_understand you."
"Would you consent to live forever as a filthy curse on the lips ofevery Kerothi old enough to speak? Would you consent to be a vile,inhuman monster whose undead spirit would hang over your homeland likean evil miasma for centuries to come, whose very name would touch aflame of hatred in the minds of all who heard it?"
"That's a very melodramatic way of putting it," the Kerothi said, "butI believe I understand what you mean. Yes, I would consent to that ifit would be the only salvation of Keroth."
"Would you slaughter helpless millions of your own people so that otherbillions might survive? Would you ruthlessly smash your system ofgovernment and your whole way of life if it were the only way to savethe people themselves?"
"I'm beginning to see what you're driving at," Tallis said slowly. "Andif it is what I think it is, I think I would like to kill you--veryslowly."
"I know, I know. But you haven't answered my question. Would you dothose things to save your people?"
"I would," said Tallis coldly. "Don't misunderstand me. I do not loatheyou for what you have done to your own people; I hate you for what youhave done to mine."
"That's as it should be," said MacMaine. His head was clearing up morenow. He realized that he had been talking a little wildly at first. Orwas he really insane? Had he been insane from the beginning? No. Heknew with absolute clarity that every step he had made had been cold,calculating, and ruthless, but utterly and absolutely sane.
He suddenly wished that he had shot Tallis without wakening him. If hismind hadn't been in such a state of shock, he would have. There was noneed to torture the man like this.
"Go on," said Tallis, in a voice that had suddenly become devoid of allemotion. "Tell it all."
"Earth was stagnating," MacMaine said, surprised at the sound of hisown voice. He hadn't intended to go on. But he couldn't stop now. "Yousaw how it was. Every standard had become meaningless because nostandard was held to be better than any other standard. There was nobeauty because beauty was superior to ugliness and we couldn't allowsuperiority or inferiority. There was no love because in order to lovesomeone or something you must feel that it is in some way superior tothat which is not loved. I'm not even sure I know what those termsmean, because I'm not sure I ever thought anything was beautiful, I'mnot sure I ever loved anything. I only read about such things in books.But I know I felt the emptiness inside me where those things shouldhave been.
"There was no morality, either. People did not refrain from stealingbecause it was wrong, but simply because it was pointless to steal whatwould be given to you if you asked for it. There was no right or wrong.
"We had a form of social contract that we called 'marriage,' but itwasn't the same thing as marriage was in the old days. There was nolove. There used to be a crime called 'adultery,' but even the word hadgone out of use on the Earth I knew. Instead, it was consideredantisocial for a woman to refuse to give herself to other men; to do somight indicate that she thought herself superior or thought her husbandto be superior to other men. The same thing applied to men in theirrelationships with women other than their wives. Marriage was a socialcontract that could be made or broken at the whim of the individual. Itserved no purpose because it meant nothing, neither party gainedanything by the contract that they couldn't have had without it. But awedding was an excuse for a gala party at which the couple were thecenter of attention. So the contract was entered into lightly for thesake of a gay time for a while, then broken again so that the gamecould be played with someone else--the game of Musical Bedrooms."
He stopped and looked down at the helpless Kerothi. "That doesn't meanmuch to you, does it? In your society, women are chattel, to be owned,bought, and sold. If you see a woman you want, you offer a price to herfather or brother or husband--whoever the owner might be. Then she'syours until you sell her to another. Adultery is a very serious crimeon Kerothi, but only because it's an infringement of property rights.There's not much love lost there, either, is there?
"I wonder if either of us knows what love is, Tallis?"
"I love my people," Tallis said grimly.
MacMaine was startled for a moment. He'd never thought about it thatway. "You're right, Tallis," he said at last. "You're right. We _do_know. And because I loved the human race, in spite of its stagnationand its spirit of total mediocrity, I did what I had to do."
"You will pardon me," Tallis said, with only the faintest bit of acidin his voice, "if I do not understand exactly what it is that you did."Then his voice grew softer. "Wait. Perhaps I do understand. Yes, ofcourse."
"You think you understand?" MacMaine looked at him narrowly.
"Yes. I said that I am not a psychomedic, and my getting angry with youproves it. You fought hard and well for Keroth, Sepastian, and, indoing so, you had to kill many of your own race. It is not easy for aman to do, no matter how much your reason tells you it _must_ be done.And now, in the face of death, remorse has come. I do not completelyunderstand the workings of the Earthman's mind, but I----"
* * * * *
"That's just it; you don't," MacMaine interrupted. "Thanks for tryingto find an excuse for me, Tallis, but I'm afraid it isn't so. Listen.
"I had to find out what Earth was up against. I had a pretty good ideaalready that the Kerothi would win--would wipe us out or enslave us tothe last man. And, after I had seen Keroth, I was certain of it. So Isent a message back to Earth, telling them what they were up against,because, up 'til then they hadn't known. As soon as they knew, theyreacted as they have always done when they are certain that they facedanger. They fought. They unleashed the chained-down intelligence ofthe few extraordinary Earthmen, and they released the fighting spiritof even the ordinary Earthmen. And they won!"
Tallis shook his head. "You sent no message, Sepastian. You werewatched. You know that. You could not have sent a message."
"You saw me send it," MacMaine said. "So did everyone else in thefleet. Hokotan helped me send it--made all the arrangements at myorders. But because you do not understand the workings of theEarthman's mind, you didn't even recognize it as a message.
"Tallis, what would your people have done if an invading force, whichhad already proven that it could whip Keroth easily, did to one of yourplanets what we did on Houston's World?"
"If the enemy showed us that they could easily beat us and then hangedthe whole population of a planet for resisting? Why, we would be foolsto resist. Unless, of course, we had a secret weapon in a hiddenpocket, the way Earth had."
"No, Tallis; no. That's where you're making your mistake. Earth didn'thave that weapon until _after_ the massacre on Houston's World. Let meask you another thing: Would any Kerothi have ordered that massacre?"
"I doubt it," Tallis said slowly. "Killing that many potential slaveswould be wasteful and expensive. We are fighters, not butchers. We killonly when it is necessary to win; the remainder of the enemy is takencare of as the rightful property of the conqueror."
"Exactly. Prisoners were part of the loot, and it's foolish to destroyloot. I noticed that in your history books. I noticed, too, that insuch cases, the captives recognized the right of the conqueror toenslave them, and made no trouble. So, after Earth's forces get toKeroth, I don't think we'll have any trouble with you."
"Not if they set us an example like Houston's World," Tallis said, "andcan prove that resistance is futile. But I don't understand themessage. What was the message a
nd how did you send it?"
"The massacre on Houston's World was the message, Tallis. I even toldthe Staff, when I suggested it. I said that such an act would striketerror into the minds of Earthmen.
"And it did, Tallis; it did. But that terror was just the goad theyneeded to make them fight. They had to sit up and take notice. If theKerothi had gone on the way they were going, taking one planet afteranother, as they planned, the Kerothi would have won. The people ofeach planet would think, 'It can't happen here.' And, since they feltthat nothing could be superior to anything else, they were complacentlycertain that they couldn't be beat. Of course, maybe Earth couldn'tbeat you, either, but that was all right; it just proved that there wasno such thing as superiority.
"But Houston's World jarred them--badly. It had to. 'Hell does morethan Heaven can to wake the fear of God in man.' They didn't recognizebeauty, but I shoved ugliness down their throats; they didn't know loveand friendship, so I gave them hatred and fear.
"The committing of atrocities has been the mistake of aggressorsthroughout Earth's history. The battle cries of countless wars havecalled upon the people to remember an atrocity. Nothing else hits anEarthman as hard as a vicious, brutal, unnecessary murder.
"So I gave them the incentive to fight, Tallis. That was my message."
Tallis was staring at him wide eyed. "You _are_ insane."
"No. It worked. In six months, they found something that would enablethem to blast the devil Kerothi from the skies. I don't know what thesociety of Earth is like now--and I never will. But at least I knowthat men are allowed to think again. And I know they'll survive."
He suddenly realized how much time had passed. Had it been too long?No. There would still be Earth ships prowling the vicinity, waiting forany sign of a Kerothi ship that had hidden in the vastness of space bynot using its engines.
"I have some things I must do, Tallis," he said, standing up slowly."Is there anything else you want to know?"
Tallis frowned a little, as though he were trying to think ofsomething, but then he closed his eyes and relaxed. "No, Sepastian.Nothing. Do whatever it is you have to do."
"Tallis," MacMaine said. Tallis didn't open his eyes, and MacMaine wasvery glad of that. "Tallis, I want you to know that, in all my life,you were the only friend I ever had."
The bright green eyes remained closed. "That may be so. Yes, Sepastian,I honestly think you believe that."
"I do," said MacMaine, and shot him carefully through the head.
_The End_
--_and Epilogue._
"Hold it!" The voice bellowed thunderingly from the loud-speakers ofthe six Earth ships that had boxed in the derelict. "Hold it! _Don'tbomb that ship!_ I'll personally have the head of any man who damagesthat ship!"
In five of the ships, the commanders simply held off the bombardmentthat would have vaporized the derelict. In the sixth, Major Thornton,the Group Commander, snapped off the microphone. His voice was shaky ashe said: "That was close! Another second, and we'd have lost that shipforever."
Captain Verenski's Oriental features had a half-startled, half-puzzledlook. "I don't get it. You grabbed that mike control as if you'd beenbitten. I know that she's only a derelict. After that burst offifty-gee acceleration for fifteen minutes, there couldn't be anyoneleft alive on her. But there must have been a reason for using atomicrockets instead of their antiacceleration fields. What makes you thinkshe's not dangerous?"
"I didn't say she wasn't dangerous," the major snapped. "She may be.Probably is. But we're going to capture her if we can. Look!" Hepointed at the image of the ship in the screen.
She wasn't spinning now, or looping end-over-end. After fifteen minutesof high acceleration, her atomic rockets had cut out, and now she movedserenely at constant velocity, looking as dead as a battered tin can.
"I don't see anything," Captain Verenski said.
"The Kerothic symbols on the side. Palatal unvoiced sibilant, rounded----"
"I don't read Kerothic, major," said the captain. "I----" Then heblinked and said, "_Shudos!_"
"That's it. The _Shudos_ of Keroth. The flagship of the Kerothi Fleet."
The look in the major's eyes was the same look of hatred that had comeinto the captain's.
"Even if its armament is still functioning, we have to take the chance,"Major Thornton said. "Even if they're all dead, we have to try to getThe Butcher's body." He picked up the microphone again.
"Attention, Group. Listen carefully and don't get itchy trigger fingers.That ship is the _Shudos_. The Butcher's ship. It's a ten-man ship, andthe most she could have aboard would be thirty, even if they jammed herfull to the hull. I don't know of any way that anyone could be alive onher after fifteen minutes at fifty gees of atomic drive, but rememberthat they don't have any idea of how our counteraction generators dampout spatial distortion either. Remember what Dr. Pendric said: 'No manis superior to any other in _all_ ways. Every man is superior to everyother in _some_ way.' We may have the counteraction generator, but theymay have something else that we don't know about. So stay alert.
"I am going to take a landing-party aboard. There's a reward out forThe Butcher, and that reward will be split proportionately among us.It's big enough for us all to enjoy it, and we'll probably getcitations if we bring him in.
"I want ten men from each ship. I'm not asking for volunteers; I wanteach ship commander to pick the ten men he thinks will be least likelyto lose their heads in an emergency. I don't want anyone to panic andshoot when he should be thinking. I don't want anyone who had anyrelatives on Houston's World. Sorry, but I can't allow vengeance yet.
"We're a thousand miles from the _Shudos_ now; close in slowly untilwe're within a hundred yards. The boarding parties will don armor andprepare to board while we're closing in. At a hundred yards, we stopand the boarding parties will land on the hull. I'll give furtherorders then.
"One more thing. I don't think her A-A generators could possibly befunctioning, judging from that dent in her hull, but we can't be sure.If she tries to go into A-A drive, she is to be bombed--no matter whois aboard. It is better that sixty men die than that The Butcherescape.
"All right, let's go. Move in."
* * * * *
Half an hour later, Major Thornton stood on the hull of the _Shudos_,surrounded by the sixty men of the boarding party. "Anybody seeanything through those windows?" he asked.
Several of the men had peered through the direct-vision ports, playingspotlight beams through them.
"Nothing alive," said a sergeant, a remark which was followed by achorus of agreement.
"Pretty much of a mess in there," said another sergeant. "That fiftygees mashed everything to the floor. Why'd anyone want to useacceleration like that?"
"Let's go in and find out," said Major Thornton.
The outer door to the air lock was closed, but not locked. It swungopen easily to disclose the room between the outer and inner doors. Tenmen went in with the major, the others stayed outside with orders tocut through the hull if anything went wrong.
"If he's still alive," the major said, "we don't want to kill him byblowing the air. Sergeant, start the airlock cycle."
There was barely room for ten men in the air lock. It had been builtbig enough for the full crew to use it at one time, but it was onlyjust big enough.
When the inner door opened, they went in cautiously. They spread outand searched cautiously. The caution was unnecessary, as it turned out.There wasn't a living thing aboard.
"Three officers shot through the head, sir," said the sergeant. "One of'em looks like he died of a broken neck, but it's hard to tell afterthat fifty gees mashed 'em. Crewmen in the engine room--five of 'em.Mashed up, but I'd say they died of radiation, since the shielding onone of the generators was ruptured by the blast that made that dent inthe hull."
"Nine bodies," the major said musingly. "All Kerothi. And all of themprobably dead _before_ the fifty-gee acceleration. Keep looking,sergeant. We'v
e got to find the tenth man."
Another twenty-minute search gave them all the information they wereever to get.
* * * * *
"No Earth food aboard," said the major. "One spacesuit missing.Handweapons missing. Two emergency survival kits and two medical kitsmissing. _And_--most important of all--the courier boat is missing." Hebit at his lower lip for a moment, then went on. "Outer air lock doorleft unlocked. Three Kerothi shot--_after_ the explosion that ruinedthe A-A drive, and _before_ the fifty-gee acceleration." He looked atthe sergeant. "What do you think happened?"
"He got away," the tough-looking noncom said grimly. "Took the courierboat and scooted away from here."
"Why did he set the timer on the drive, then? What was the purpose ofthat fifty-gee blast?"
"To distract us, I'd say, sir. While we were chasing this thing, hehightailed it out."
"He might have, at that," the major said musingly. "A one-man courier_could_ have gotten away. Our new detection equipment isn't perfectyet. But----"
At that moment, one of the troopers pushed himself down the corridortoward them. "Look, sir! I found this in the pocket of the Carrot-skinwho was taped up in there!" He was holding a piece of paper.
The major took it, read it, then read it aloud. "Greetings, fellowEarthmen: When you read this, I will be safe from any power you maythink you have to arrest or punish me. But don't think _you_ are safefrom _me_. There are other intelligent races in the galaxy, and I'll bearound for a long time to come. You haven't heard the last of me. Withlove--Sebastian MacMaine."
The silence that followed was almost deadly.
"He _did_ get away!" snarled the sergeant at last.
"Maybe," said the major. "But it doesn't make sense." He soundedagitated. "Look. In the first place, how do we know the courier boatwas even aboard? They've been trying frantically to get word back toKeroth; does it make sense that they'd save this boat? And why all thefanfare? Suppose he did have a boat? Why would he attract our attentionwith that fifty-gee flare? Just so he could leave us a note?"
"What do you think happened, sir?" the sergeant asked.
"I don't think he had a boat. If he did, he'd want us to think he wasdead, not the other way around. I think he set the drive timer on thisship, went outside with his supplies, crawled up a drive tube andwaited until that atomic rocket blast blew him into plasma. He wasprobably badly wounded and didn't want us to know that we'd won. Thatway, we'd never find him."
There was no belief on the faces of the men around him.
"Why'd he want to do that, sir?" asked the sergeant.
"Because as long as we don't _know_, he'll haunt us. He'll be likeHitler or Jack the Ripper. He'll be an immortal menace instead of adead villain who could be forgotten."
"Maybe so, sir," said the sergeant, but there was an utter lack ofconviction in his voice. "But we'd still better comb this area and keepour detectors hot. We'll know what he was up to when we catch him."
"But if we _don't_ find him," the major said softly, "we'll _never_know. That's the beauty of it, sergeant. If we don't find him, thenhe's won. In his own fiendish, twisted way, he's won."
"If we don't find him," said the sergeant stolidly, "I think we betterkeep a sharp eye out for the next intelligent race we meet. He mightfind 'em first."
"Maybe," said the major very softly, "that's just what he wanted. Iwish I knew why."
THE END
The Highest Treason Page 7
