"I will join you willingly if you leave this world."
He smiled. "Sorry, it's no go. It's too good a psi trap. And your race
has a virtual monopoly on the supply. You presume too much on my claims
about your value. You're not _that_ valuable."
* * * * *
I sighed. This was not the way. Zard would have opened it if it were.
I had weakened--but he had not retreated. I had shown a softness
in my armor and had given him hope of conquering--and with that
little opening what could he not do? He needed but one break in my
defenses--and I would be lost. Already I was dangerously weakened.
Rapidly I repeated the catechism of Zard as he talked, and presently
his voice faded and was gone as the ecstasy of spiritual union with the
Word gripped me in firm protecting hands....
* * * * *
"Come with me," Wolverton said a week later. "I have something to show
you."
Obediently I rose and followed him. A Halsite followed as we walked
out into the sun. We had come a different way than before--a way I
had never taken. Before me was a broad concrete plain studded with
oddly curved walls. In the center of the area a tall, pinch-waisted,
needle-nosed spaceship stood on its landing pads--pointing straight up
to the sky. I looked at it with awe. It was bigger even than a trader
and it looked oddly menacing yet beautiful.
"Yours?" I asked.
He nodded. "Mine. She's Earth-built--one of the last battle cruisers
ever built in an Earth yard. Ships like this aren't made any more--even
though she's four thousand objective years old. Come, let's look at
her."
As we approached, I could see the ship was enormous. It rose over our
heads like some great campanile tower, yet despite its size there
was an air of subtle refinement about the mass, an impression almost
of delicacy--as though it had been tenderly and carefully constructed
by men who loved their work. Each part was beautifully finished and
perfectly machined, and the diamond-hard non-corrosive metal gleamed in
the golden sunlight. And despite its huge size and absurdly tiny jets,
it looked _fast_!
"It's big enough to move an entire city!" I gasped.
"She has a crew of five--and capacity for fifty marines," Wolverton
replied.
"All that size--but--"
"Most of it is taken up with weapons systems," he said. "I could
utterly destroy a planet of this size with her weapons. She'll travel
at Lume One as long as you care to drive her--or she'll go clear up
to ultra band in hyperspace. She's the fastest, deadliest thing in
this sector--beautiful--isn't she?" He talked as though the ship was a
woman--a woman he loved.
"I wanted you to see her," he pointed at the ship, "so that you will
know exactly what I mean when I offer you freedom such as you have
never known. With this ship we can do anything--go anywhere. Time
means nothing--hours in hyperspace--years in normal spacetime. I'm
offering you the Universe if you join with me to work and save--to
keep men from following the old paths to racial destruction." His
voice, eyes, and entire body were tense. Conviction flowed from him in
smothering waves. I had never really felt the power of the man and I
was shaken. Shaken and unsure. For the Word seemed oddly weak in the
presence of this titanic ship and the equally titanic man who owned
it. I could not explain the feelings that surged inside me--missionary
to the human race--freedom from worldly bounds--greed for life and
knowledge--weariness and surrender to Wolverton's endless urging--all
were there, but there was more than that. I kept looking up at the
ship, my head whirling from the dizzying sweep of her--her beauty and
power filling my eyes. My heart soared with her soaring lines. I felt
quite enthralled--uplifted--caught in a force greater than my will.
Now--suddenly I knew why Wolverton spoke of the ship with such passion
in his voice. It must have shown in my eyes for a great gladness
lighted his. "I will join you," I said in a small voice--and inside me
something died as soon as I had spoken. I had the hollow feeling I had
lost my soul.
"I will not ask you to swear," he said with odd gentleness. "I have
pushed you far enough. Let us go to the laboratory and remove that
ring and restore your powers."
A voice inside me spoke sluggishly. "_Fight fire with fire--craft with
craft_," it said. "_Strike down the Evil doer with his own spear_,"
but the voice was weak. I followed Wolverton and as I walked the voice
became stronger. "_And the Father of Evil took Zard to the top of
Mount Karat, and from this high place he offered the world and eternal
life if Zard would fall down and worship him. And Zard refused._" I
shook my head. I had promised--but what was a promise when it involved
the Father of Evil. To slay him, one could promise anything, and yet
receive absolution.
The ring was removed from my neck, and with its removal awareness
flowed into me. I was whole again! I could see as only an Adept knew
how to see. I turned to Wolverton with pleasure in my eyes, and as I
looked at him I stiffened with shock!
_His barriers were down!!_
I could penetrate his mind as though it were thinnest air, and in my
brain the voice rang out loud, clear, quick, eager, triumphant!
Now--NOW!!--KILL!!!
* * * * *
I took his mind in mine, encompassing it. I held his life. One surge of
power, one squeeze and he was dead. The Father of Evil--helpless in
the grasp of righteousness.
I paused, savoring my triumph searching for the evil I knew lay
concealed beneath the surface web of flashing thoughts. I probed
beneath them, brushing aside his feeble defenses--and stopped--appalled!
For there was no evil, no guile, no treachery--only a deep limpid
pool of abiding faith and selfless love for mankind that transcended
anything I had ever dreamed. There was anger, too, a clean bright anger
at the stupidities and follies of mankind, impassioned yet impersonal,
and oddly lacking in bitterness. He knew that I could snuff him out
as easily as an acolyte snuffs a candle upon the Altar of Zard. Yet
he neither shrank nor feared. And I realized with numbing shock that
he had placed himself in my hands, knowing what I was, and what I
would do. Frantically I tried to withdraw, but I was immersed in love,
drowned in it, absorbed in a warm golden glow that rushed along the
power that connected us.
I shuddered. Father of _Evil_? If he was evil, then every responding
fiber of my heart and mind was evil too, and I was damned beyond
redemption. With a groan I wrenched myself free. I could not kill him.
Nor could I longer stand the shattering concepts of his mind. And with
stark realization I faced the elemental truth that it was I, not he,
who was wrong!
He looked down at me as I stood shrunken and defeated before him, and
his eyes were kind. "It was a chance I had to take," he said softly.
"And I was right. You were not conditioned beyond redemption." He
sighed and placed his hand on my shoulder. It was warm and gentle, and
I did not shrink from his touch. "There are many worlds," he murmured,
"and it is getting late, and you _are_ unique. Another like you might
not appear again. The plan would be useless without you, yet without
your complete cooperation it would fail. So I opened my mind, dropped
the screen which shielded me." He smiled wryly. "Desperate measures of
a desperate man," he said with a trace of the old masking cynicism.
But I knew him now and could see behind the mask. A strange wonder
filled me. I had tried to apply the Missionary Creed, but it was he
who was the missionary and I the convert. Slowly I knelt and placed
my hands in his as I would to a Bearer of the Word. "Show me the way,
Master, and I will follow," I said.
He raised me to my feet. "No, Saul," he said. "Not that way. In the
struggle to come, you will be the leader. Like your namesake."