C c macapp, p.18
C C MacApp, page 18
Again the purring chuckle. "You can avoid that necessity by the simplest of courses. And, while we are talking—was it you behind that little series of pin pricks against Bizh military bases? I know that the few miserable survivors of the human species, whose world was foolish enough to anger one of our less considerate vectors, staged those raids." A pause. "It occurs to me, Vez Do Han, that those renegades may be among you now. Would you do me the indulgence of confirming it? There is no real importance, of course."
John spoke before Vez could. It was foolish, but there was a hard anger in him now. "This is one of those renegades speaking. Is there something I can do for you, other than killing you?"
For a moment there was only the crackle of static. Even the babble from the other ships was hushed—and John realized that they were all listening to this exchange. Then the Vul's voice came again, serious and a little curious. "Are you by any chance John Braysen?"
John said flatly, "What of it?"
The Vul voice sighed. "Nothing much. It just confirms another guess of mine… You have a splendid mind for military tactics, John Braysen. I regret that your species has been destroyed." A pause; then he spoke again to Vez Do Han. "A war between our empires, Hohdan, is no desire of yours or mine. Let us reach a civilized compromise. We will forget the small, though despicable, intrigue you perpetrated. I understand its purpose—and, if you care anymore, it has succeeded. Keep the few humans, if you feel sentimental attachment to them or if you consider them valuable mercenaries. Keep the few trivial ships of ours you somehow accumulated." A pause. "All I demand is yonder immensity at which we all keep glancing, and every last one of the Chelki, and that truly large ship which you are presumably aboard."
Vez glanced at John and grinned. Then he said into the pickup, "You ask of me booty that I do not own. All I know about that immensity you mention is that I saw a large number of Chelki aboard a miscellany of ships go into it. Since none have emerged again, I presume they mean to stay there. As you know, slaveholding is not one of Hohd's sins, so you can hardly ask me to help you retake escapees. As to this ship, aboard which I indeed am—"
The Vul voice interrupted sharply, "Consider, Vez Do Han—do you think my empire can afford to allow you exclusive access to Klee technology? Now, do not prattle nonsense any longer. "To punctuate the demand, a heavy salvo of missiles suddenly appeared on mass detectors and radar screens—a mere gesture, considering what the Vul armada could launch. The interception lit up screens for an instant. Bulvenorg continued, "Should you decline to yield what I demand here, the result, I regret to inform you, will be an immediate all-out attack against your empire."
Vez flushed. "We are not Chelki, Bulvenorg, nor one small system, like Sol. There is nothing here that I am authorized to give away. As to your threats—"
Luis Damiano's voice, low but audible to John, came suddenly from the command circuit. "Commodore, the Omniarch just radioed. He says he's finished all preparations and that you are to null away right now!"
John's pulse leaped. Grinning, he gestured to Vez. Also, he glanced at the viewscreen showing the Vivarium and saw the few Chelki-crewed ships still outside—the armed ones—streaking for one end or the other to go inside. He poised his thumb above a computer-keyboard stud and said hurriedly into his command-circuit pickup: "All units—we're nulling in a few seconds, on computer lock-in!"
Vez, almost laughing aloud, stopped talking to the Vul and instead hurriedly repeated John's message in Hohdan to Vez's own ships. Then he made the fist-open gesture to John.
John squashed down hard on the "Null" stud.
And nothing happened.
Vez and John stared at each other, only half-hearing the Vul voice snarling from the receiver. Screens were already lighting up with flares as the first Vul salvos came into range and were intercepted. Already, John saw, the defense was almost saturated. He punched out a program, blurted into the pickup, "We're dodging on grav drive—local defense—" Dazed, he tried the "Null" stud again. It still didn't work, although all instruments said Bertha was charged and ready. Desperately, he punched the "Execute" stud for the grav-drive evasion.
Bertha didn't move.
The Vul voice had stopped now—but the Vul missiles hadn't. Bertha shuddered. A hit! But, though alarms were wailing and klaxons bleating, instruments said there was no penetration of the hull. The din was so loud now that John hardly hear the voices shouting on the intercom. He turned it to maximum volume and leaned forward. "… don't we null?" Ralph Cole was nearly screaming.
John, stunned, looked at viewscreens, and an awful realization exploded over him.
All his other ships—and Vez Do Han's—were gone. Bertha was alone.
Another jar, as some Vul missile got through the desperate counterfire of small missiles, laser clusters, and rupters. Through his stunned bewilderment, John felt a sharp lance of pride at the way his men were fighting. But it was ridiculously futile. Even if the great hull didn't give way, the mere accumulation of heat would destroy the ship soon enough!
It was Vez who jabbed at a stud and shouted, "Damiano! Get through to the Omniarch!"
The Omniarch's voice, vastly amplified, came wearily above the din of hits, near-misses, and Bertha's own fighting noise. "On my honor, Vez Do Han—I am not holding you!" Some distracted Chelki talk in the background. "I am as astounded as you. John Braysen, are you listening? There are— Gods of space! All I can think of is that this Vivarium has automatic machinery programmed to defend itself—and that it includes holding close the Klee ship in our vicinity. We are scrambling over machinery—" The Omniarch suddenly stopped talking and took a deep breath. Then he resumed again. "Listen, friends, if you are locked to the Vivarium, that bond will be severed in less than two minutes. Unless we have calculated wrong, that is when we shall vanish."
John and Vez stared at each other in mutual numb astonishment. Then both looked suddenly toward the chronometer.
The jar of missile hits and detonations went on steadily. Someone, somewhere in the ship, bellowed with angry terror and was suddenly silent. Bart Lange blurted, "That's a hatch cover that went!"
John turned his head slowly to look at another bank of instruments. Which one represented that part of the ship? His mind seemed to have gone on strike. Oh—that one. Yes, there was a holocaust in that particular bay. But the air conduits had automatically sealed off. He drew in an exhausted breath. What could anyone do now but watch that creeping chronometer needle…
Then he contorted with such a knotted, inside-out sensation that he leaped from the chair, lost his footing, and sprawled on the deck.
Everyone in the control room was slowly picking himself off the deck. Bart Lange mumbled thickly, "What happened?"
John was still dazed from that weird twisting sensation—like a thousand nulls at the same instant—but he had wits enough to look at instruments and detectors. "We nulled, for one thing." He went awkwardly to his seat, squirmed into it, and leaned toward the intercom grille. "All hands, do whatever you can locally to secure ship and assess damage. We seem to be headed in toward the Hohdan Empire."
Luis Damaino's voice asked, "What in space happened, sir? I felt as if—"
John told him, "The Vivarium evidently kept us from nulling, or even moving on grav drive, until it leaped. That's what the Omniarch called it—'leaping.' Whether it nulled, or whether it went into the future, it vanished, and let us go. At least, that's what I guess—we'll have to play back sensor recordings." He paused, trying to think. "Oh—all the other ships nulled on schedule, I guess." He locked at Bart. "How many of the Armed Scouts are aboard?"
Bart blinked. "Four. At least, they were when—"
"Find out," John directed. He turned as a movement caught his eye. Lisa Duval had just come into the room. She was pale, but cool. He demanded, "Are you girls all right?"
She nodded slowly. "Just scared almost bald. What happened?"
He said, "We'll be a while finding out, I think. But we're out of trouble for now."
Bart Lange, standing before the from-null detector system, called, "John," and beckoned.
John went over beside him. Bart pointed to a familiar blue-violet blip nearer the center than the edge of the simulated sphere. "There it is. Or maybe that's just the same old marker, showing where they were." He chuckled and pointed to various tiny diffuse blobs. "The Vuls have broken into small groups—probably trying a new search pattern. I'll bet they're fit to bite each other!"
Vez, who'd walked over, said seriously, "So long as they stay out there, they aren't attacking Hohd. We'll be home long ahead of them. And we'll be ready, if they're foolish enough to carry through on the threat!"
Now that the excitement was over, John felt the dron thirst. He'd have to endure it—he couldn't afford to get drunk on even alcohol, now. He watched Lisa Duval leave to rejoin and reassure the women; then he went slowly back to his seat. He looked toward Vez. "Your ships will be home ahead of us. Is it all right with you if we go directly to that planet you gave us? If we may, we'll use that as a base while we look for something far away."
Vez said, "Of course. But I shall want one of your small ships, and a number of dispatch drones."
John automatically made the fist-open gesture. Then he looked wearily at the breakout timer.
Two hours and fifty-odd minutes to go.
The time crawled, as only null time can crawl. But even that slow creep was steady, and at long last the timepiece showed ten more minutes. Bart Lange was standing before the from-null detector system and frowning. "That knocking around we got must have jarred this out of adjustment. I can't even locate that planet's star."
John sighed. "Well, can you find that double binary? We can navigate from there."
"Yes, but even that doesn't look right. I think I remember that part of space…"
Vez Do Han put in, "Instruments or not, well find it. I know the region like my backyard."
They did find the green planet, but it took them longer than they expected.
Breakout.
John took Bertha in slowly, until she was in atmosphere. He moved around to the night side, used radar to pinpoint the small lake and the meadow alongside it. He went lower, frowning. At least one of the four men there should be awake to answer a radio hail.
But no answer came. He went lower and used searchlights. Things didn't look right at all, and a very chill, very hard lump seemed to form in his stomach. He swallowed hard.
It wasn't until morning that they were sure. There was no Armed Scout around, though one had been left. There was a mass of metal where a few missiles had been stacked, But the place was completely overgrown with vines, and even a few trees towered above it. There was absolutely no sign that a shack had ever been there, nor any other hint of occupancy.
Slowly John looked up at Vez. "I think we'd better get to some civilized world as fast as we can. If there are any left."
Without looking puzzled, Vez slowly made the fist-open sign.
Chapter Twenty-Four
AFTER Bertha had orbited a peaceful-looking planet for several hours—far out, to avoid frightening any more inhabitants than necessary—Vez Do Han came back up in the small grav boat he'd taken down and gave details of what they already knew. "I could hardly talk to them," he said, "the accent's changed so much. The written language, I can still decipher—they have ancient writings, on non-perishable metal, that have kept it from drifting much. And I managed to piece together some of the legends."
John asked, "How long has it been? Do they know?"
"I tried to get some estimate; and I'd guess, eleven or twelve thousand years. But I could be badly off. They weren't really surprised to see me—I guess most of them believe that their ancestors had an interstellar culture and that some of it might still exist. I didn't even try to explain that I was from their remote past—and that some of them might even be descendants of mine." He managed a weak grin. "I'm nowhere near as bad off as you thought you were, John Braysen. The women down there look healthy and friendly."
John stared at the deck for a minute. "Well, are you going to join them? There are lots of gadgets aboard that belong to you—not to mention the whole ship! Of course, there may be other Hohdan worlds elsewhere, better equipped to use them."
Vez sighed. "I think not. I'm not even sure I'd want to dump space-age technology—and Klee technology—on a people halfway between pastoral and early-machine ages. I'll have to think about it for a while." He grinned at John. "Will any of you mind if I and my four men stay with you for the time being?"
"Of course not! Most of us will settle on that planet you gave us a few thousand years ago, at least temporarily. But what about Bertha? She's yours, after all."
"I'm not sure about that either now, John Braysen. Let's call it a partnership, shall we? There are a few trips we ought to make."
"To see if the Vul Empire's still in business, you mean? Or other space cultures?"
"That's right."
John mused for a few minutes. Then he looked up. "There's another trip I'd like to make, eventually."
Vez smiled. "I imagine you mean to Earth."
Bertha didn't go anywhere from the green planet for nearly half a local year (slightly longer than Earth years), and then it was a journey of only two hundred hours, after which there was no doubt that the Vulmot Empire had gone the way of the Hohdan one. So, apparently, had the Bizh Empire—there were only a few small space cultures in either spiral arm, and those didn't seem militarily inclined.
There were signs—overgrown, in most cases, but signs—of a terrible interstellar war at least ten thousand years earlier that had blasted all space cultures, in this sector of the galaxy at least, back to near-savagery. But there was no way of learning details.
There were a few more, shorter, trips, during one of which Vez acquired a sweet, pleasant, lovely Hohdan bride (who called herself a "Freselian") and brought her home to the green planet. Finally, over a year and a half after the settlement on that world, John, with Bart Lange and Luis Damiano and Ralph Cole and some unmarried men—plus Lisa Duval—made the trip to Earth.
What with one thing and another, it wasn't for nearly another year that John saw Vez Do Han again.
Vez wanted to know what condition Earth was in.
"Well," John told him, "actually, we were dumbfounded at first, though we've more or less figured it out now. Not that it was surprising to find practically all the radioactivity washed out of the air and soil by this time—but it seemed impossible that there should be plant life on the planet But there it was—a blanket of mosslike growth all over nearly everything, green in some places, purplish or crimson in others. All the dead trees we'd seen before were gone, of course—fires must have finished them before long." He paused and stared at the simple bungalow where he lived now. (They were sitting a little way out on the meadow, sipping experimental local beer—a fairly successful experiment, at that.) "We'd been so sure all life was wiped out. But a few seeds, or spores, must have been alive, frozen into ice fields or deep underground where the bad stuff didn't reach them. And, after the stuff was mostly gone, a few found themselves in positions to sprout, and did." He drank more beer. "I still can't understand about the seas—maybe some life still survived, in the deeps where deadly compounds didn't get, or in ooze that didn't get stirred up too soon. In any case, Earth's seas are teeming with microscopic plant organisms that are putting oxygen back into the air at an amazing rate. As geological times go, I mean."
Vez asked, "What percentage now?"
"Over fourteen. It never fell below ten, apparently."
"Could you live there now?"
"We think so. But it wouldn't be worthwhile unless there were some way to boost the oxygen content a little more, fast. And we'll have to transplant some trees and grass and things from somewhere, and stock the continents with animals and the rivers and lakes with fish and whatnot."
"How about the seas? Are they too radioactive?"
"No, most of the stuffs settled out. Sea animals too, if we run across any that can adapt."
Vez sat smiling for a few minutes. "Well, have you any plans to start that sort of thing?"
"Oh, yes. In fact, we made a tour out along the spiral arm, looking for suitable species. We think we've found some. For that matter, some of the trees right here on this planet, and a few animal species, might adapt all right. Next trip, we'll be trying a few."
Vez sighed. "Did you visit any of the smaller empires out along the arm? I mean, the places where ships used to stop, trade crossroads, the spectacular worlds…"
"We looked in on some. A lot of formerly populated worlds are dead now. That war…" He paused. "We even dropped in on Drongail, out of curiosity. It's just a dirty rock now. Not even a sprig of dron growing anywhere."
Vez grinned. "How did that affect you?"
John leaned over in his chair and put his arm around Lisa's shoulders. "I didn't feel the faintest twinge. Honestly."
Recall Not Earth (html), C C MacApp
