"Yes."
"Prince Cadmus slew a dragon and sowed its teeth. From these sprang
armed men who fought and founded a great city--"
"Teeth--dragon--armed men, what are the symbols here?" A strange thrill
trembled in him as the words took hold.
"You are the son of a much more recent Cadmus who was named from that
ancient myth. Only he knew why he called himself Cadmus. He kept that
secret to himself. But you are his son. If anyone knows your father's
great secret of why he called himself Cadmus, it is you. You are
Cadmus, now."
"But Johlan--he stifled my brain so the Guards couldn't probe my
secrets--"
Old Pirri's eyes glowed, became red pools. "Zaleel told me. She, too,
is ignorant of many things other than her assigned duties. Beware,
lovely boy. Beware of friends and patriots who are out to achieve
selfish ends. Beware even Zaleel, and Johlan, and Old Pirri. Remember
history, and recall that when the Great Machine God was spawned and
stopped all progress, wars were brewing between the worlds. Remember
that was the reason the Machine was made--to halt progress and social
evolution that might lead to another atom war. If the Machine is
destroyed, remember that the old hates will return. For the ancient
hates between peoples and planets and ideas still smolder."
Cadmus shivered. The sword hilt was ice in his grasp.
* * * * *
They turned. Several corridors branched into black mouths. Bats darted
from hollows. Nothing must deter him from his objective. Yet--Old Pirri
spoke wisdom. When the Machine quit, the three worlds would be plunged
into chaotic anarchy. No government would exist until some kind of
governmental agency was established. Who, then, or what group, would
aspire to power? Consar III of course, if he lived. Others if there
were others who still knew how to think.
They came into a subterranean street illuminated with cold luciferin
light. Escapeasies lined its length. A forgotten river flowing from
ennui to forgetfulness, and death. Archways crumbled overhead. Purple
spider webs shimmered.
"We're directly under the Street of Shadows," said Old Pirri.
Sense-drunkening music floated from dark maws. "Just inside that
escapeasy, Cadmus. A door just inside leads up into the Street of
Shadows, and into the Maenad." She gripped his arm. Tears shone in her
eyes.
She took a chain from about her neck. A square of metal dangled heavily
from the chain as she put it over Cadmus' head.
"Dear boy," she said, "this is a small force-shield device. I got it
from a Cadmean who was killed in the last revolt. Press this small
lever." She demonstrated. The unit hummed with power. It glowed with a
strong effulgence. "This will nullify the vibro-guns of the Guards, for
a while anyway."
Footsteps pounded. Old Pirri screeched, horribly, then went down on her
knees. "Run--dear boy. Guards--" her voice shattered with pain. Her
flesh jerked with the agony of a vibro-beam.
But he was safe, thought Cadmus quickly, while a sad rage wrenched his
heart. She had sacrificed herself for him. She had given him the little
force-shield unit.
He dropped down behind a crumbling column near the old woman as three
Guards edged along the street. "Back--into the wall--find Maenad."
Red froth specked her lips. "Beware all who might get power--when you
slay--the Gray God--dear boy--"
She died. A blind rage burned up, flamed in Cadmus' brain. He yelled
wildly as he raked the energy gun from his tunic and fired point blank
at the approaching Guards.
Part of the street, with the Guards in it, erupted in a sheet of white
flame. Shattered bodies, bits of uniform spread out through blazing
columns like an unfolding flower. He dropped the burned-out gun and
leaped backward, into the wall.
He ran blindly. Many-legged rats spilled out into the dark, ran with
glowing eyes beside him. Pink, fleshy scorpions scurried before
the vibrations of the blast. Later he found a wandering Venusian
drug-peddlar who guided him to the trap-door leading up into the
Maenad. It was only a few minutes now, until dawn.
There were no Guards in the escapeasy. Dancing girls from three worlds
danced with a bored lifelessness. All except one. Zaleel. A flood of
red-gold hair, flashing rust-flecked eyes, and smooth agile limbs. Her
vitality failed to stir the sluggish futility clouding the Maenad. Her
eyes flashed recognition as Cadmus edged along the wall and sat down in
a shadowed booth. As the climax of her dance ended she walked to his
booth and sat across from him. There was no applause. Apathetic eyes
failed to follow the lithe swing of her gleaming body.
He held her hands, felt the animal warmth sparkle and tingle in his
arms. "You made it, Cadmus," she breathed, eyes glowing. "I knew you
would. I've got the microtape here. It's all you need to destroy the
Machine--if you can reach it."
She handed him a small role of microtape. "Listen, Zaleel," he said,
"I'm going crazy because of this amnesia Johlan threw over my brain. I
tell you there's something vital to the plan I should know."
"You've got to keep blind faith. We can't hesitate now."
He told her about Old Pirri. She blinked at tears.
"Poor Old Pirri. She was in the first revolt. She was captured, had
a disciplinary band put in her head, and slaved five years in one of
Consar's mines. She lived only to see the Machine's end."
"She died too soon," said Cadmus.
"Your memory will return if you succeed, Cadmus. Johlan planted a
threshold-response word in your subconscious mind. When you hear that
word your full memory will come back. I heard him make the posthypnotic
suggestion. But I can't tell you what it is. If you were captured--"
"I know. How and when will I receive this word?"
"It will be on millions of lips--if you succeed."
* * * * *
Cadmus said quickly, "All right. Give me the details, and let me get at
it! Now what's the microtape for?"
She leaned forward. The fragrance of her hair was a promise.
"You know how the Machine's mechanical brain operates. But because of
your amnesia, maybe I'd better refresh your memory. Now--any question,
social, economic, individual, is submitted to the supreme council in
the council tower. On the top of the tower is the question submission
chamber. There are big digital panel-boards with facilities to receive
the questions and problems which are submitted on microtapes.
"These microtapes are placed before the photoelectric analyzing eyes of
the digital panels. From there, the problems or questions are carried
by electron beam tubes directly into the Machine for solving. The
Machine's answer comes back through the electron beam tubes and is
recorded on answer tapes. Audio tapes are recorded and broadcast from
the tower. Also the broadcast is received in every Martian city and is
conveyed to Venus and Earth by ethero-magnum. You remember all this?"
"Some of it," said Cadmus, frowning. "Go on."
"The Machine's doom is in that microtape I've given you, Cadmus. It
contains a highly complex problem which Johlan has worked out during
all these years of isolation on our asteroid. You have only to get
inside that question submission chamber in the council tower. Get that
tape in front of those analyzing eyes. That's all. Get the problem on
that tape into the brain of the Machine."