"Why?" Khaljean studied the younger man grimly.
"I'm not sure you could understand, since you left the gamma
reservation so long ago. I'll try to explain. Somewhere, there is a
tool. Not that exactly, nor a machine either, but we call it that for
lack of a term. In the old books of our library, there was mention of
it. A description, with a hint of properties. It is something alien, a
control placed on the destinies of group-man."
His voice droned on, speaking as if the subject were a lesson he had
learned by rote. "Many times, man's social and political organization
has painfully climbed the ladder toward a workable, civilized system,
but always it has slipped and fallen back. The individual mind
functions well, for the most part, but not so the group-mind. Any crowd
is less honest, less efficient, and far less intelligent than its
individual units. The larger the crowd, the greater the tangent, the
possibilities for evil and injustice. In attempts to solve the problems
of group relationships, man is worse than pitiful.
"Long study has convinced the gamma-people that this is not a mere
accident. Outside influence warps men's thinking in groups, warps
social and political organization. It seems as if group-man struggled
hopefully to put together a complex jigsaw puzzle, in which many parts
will fit badly into an infinity of possible relationships. The true
fit is difficult to find, but even the law of averages should help in
so many attempts. Time and time again, just as the puzzle is nearly
completed, someone joggles the puzzler's elbow, and the pattern is
destroyed.
"There is such a joggler, such an outside influence. Its existence was
proved, its influence even measured. There are clues scattered through
the old books. We know what it is, what it looks like, how it operates,
but we have been powerless to counteract its influence. The warping
hypnotic broadcasts keep throwing mankind back to chaos, when utopia is
in sight. It is too strong to combat, and the source must be destroyed.
By our solemn pact, my six friends and I bound ourselves to locate and
smash this alien mechanism."
* * * * *
Khaljean licked his lips reflectively. "You interest me," he admitted.
"I was once young enough to be idealistic myself. What is this alien
monster you describe?"
"Not a monster in the ordinary sense. Not a tool, nor quite even a
machine. Living jewels, perhaps. At least radioactive false gems.
"Gas, probably radon, solidified under the incredible pressures in the
heart of Jupiter. Solar Surveys knows about them, for they were seen
once, and even handled by men. There is an article about them in the
Encyclopaedia of the Solar Planets. In 2036, they were discovered,
mined by cybernetic machinery. Then on their way to Mars, the ship
carrying the jewels was sabotaged and wrecked. Wreckage and frozen
bodies were discovered on the rogue asteroid Hidalgo, but the jewels
were missing."
Pao Chung had shown growing interest in the conversation. He broke in
to ask, "Stolen?"
"Stolen, perhaps. Possibly they disintegrated at the time of the
wreck, or they may have transmuted into something unrecognized by the
searchers. They may have become tenuous enough to sink through the
surface of Hidalgo and recrystallized inside. But the evil influence
continues. We believe that they are still there, still in existence,
working their hidden evil, warping the brains of men, producing social
and political chaos. Five of my friends have lost their lives searching
for this menace. Possibly the sixth is dead, too, since he vanished
into the unknown and has not been heard from.
"I tried, myself. Angel and I landed on Hidalgo and searched carefully.
But Hidalgo is 'off limits' for spacemen. Solar Surveys sent the Space
Patrol after us, and we fled before finishing our search. We were
chased to Mars, traced and hunted to Venus. We crashed there, and while
I tried to get money for new equipment, Angel got involved with Pao
Chung. You know the rest. Now you see why I must go to Hidalgo."
Khaljean shook his head in sorrow. "I understand. But you could never
find your way through the maze."
Ferris accused him with fanatical eyes. "You could help me to find my
way."
"Not I. I am too old, and I am not sure that I approve of your
meddling. Not that I would try to stop you, but don't count on help
from me. How do you know that this alien machine is what you say? Its
purpose may be good, not evil. Some higher intelligence may have placed
it in our system as a governor to influence mankind, to shield man
from his own follies. It may be a warning road sign to keep us from
crashing into a dead end. Our utopias sound very dull to me, they may
easily be a dead end for mankind. I like the interesting and amusing
variations of chaos, so let me cling to them. Follow your destiny, if
you will. I won't stop you."
Ferris looked pitifully young, but he stood his ground with absurd
pride and courage.
"Right or wrong, I must try," he said evenly. "And I won't grant the
right of alien interference. Man, too, has a right to work out his
destiny, good or bad."
Angel spoke up eagerly for his partner. "I won't say I know what you're
talking about, and maybe I'm too stupid and ignorant to understand. But
as a victim of 'chaos' I don't appreciate it."
Pao Chung sneered. "One vote for law and order from the fallen Angel,
if it can be believed. Like Khaljean, my preference is for chaos, as
it furnishes more opportunities for a man of my interests. However,
my soul revolts at this talk of destroying gems of presumably unique
properties. They must have value. Perhaps you can dismantle this
machine, without harming its parts. As a business man, with time on
my hands, I would like to go with you and see if something can be
arranged."
"I don't trust you," Ferris said frankly. "And I don't believe that the
jewels can be salvaged. Come along if you want. I can't stop you. But
don't try any tricks."
Pao Chung accepted the warning with bland indifference.
"Father!" called Teucrete. "Leave me your protective suiting."