Outside, behind the low hut, Jackson strained his ears to catch
Randall's words. With an innate animal cunning, he had finally surmised
most of the intricate plot, and had crept to his vantage point shortly
after the meeting in Lanson's shelter had begun.
However, Jackson was still faced with the problem of escaping the
surveillance of his human companions long enough to contact the Kralons
and acquaint them with the plot. He realized that if he made sufficient
noise to attract the huge insects, he would be intercepted and subdued
before he could accomplish his objective.
Then his dilemma was suddenly solved by the mechanical voice of the
Voder. Amplified by the speaker, it called out in hesitant, somewhat
garbled accents: "The hu-man called Jack-son will come to the gate
immed-iately."
With a glance around to see that none of his companions were close
enough to intercept him, Jackson made a run for the gate. When he
arrived there, the Kralon guide had already unlocked it and was waiting
for him. Rapidly it led the way up the beaten path to the Hive entrance
and down the long corridor to the conference room.
The Voderist sat ready at the instrument, and it was evident that
the Kralon was maintaining its posture with difficulty. The DDT was
apparently having a pronounced effect.
A number of the council members were present, and they too seemed to
be showing effects from the chemical. But their multi-faceted eyes
regarded the salesman with unmistakable enmity.
"Human," said the Voder in tones as severe as possible for the
mechanical contrivance, "what trickery have you and your companions
used to poison the air of the Hive?"
"I didn't," denied Jackson, shrinking back from the virulence of those
inhuman eyes and the very real menace of the huge pincers.
* * * * *
Back in the stockade, Randall and his council members had heard the
Kralon voice, and had seen Jackson disappear with the guard. The agent
was sick at heart, for he knew that this meant the destruction of all
their carefully formulated plans.
If they had only had a few hours more, the DDT would certainly have
rendered the Kralons vulnerable to attack.
Randall quickly conferred with his group. Following the directions the
agent gave, Malherne ran back to one of the shelters and brought rope.
Randall handed the rope to McClellan without comment. The Australian
silently improvised a hondo, made a loop, and twirled it skillfully. He
tossed it over the top of one of the pilings, watched it settle into
place, then tugged it tight.
Randall was halfway up the rope before anyone could object. He gained
the top of the stockade, dropped to the ground on the other side.
Hastily he located the massive bolt which barred the gate and stood
on his toes to reach it. The Kralons had not constructed it for human
manipulation, and Randall was having trouble.
As he glanced back over his shoulder he saw several Kralon guards start
down the path toward him.
"Be ready for a fight," he called through the wall to his companions,
"as soon as I get the gate open. The guards are coming."
It wasn't until the Kralons were within a dozen yards that the bolt
finally gave under Randall's frenzied efforts, and the gate swung open.
Then out streamed a motley mob of determined humans, with Dr. Gerard
leading. He held his container ready, advancing toward the approaching
Kralons. He waited until they were within a few feet, then dashed the
contents of the container at their heads.
Randall never knew whether it was partially the effects of the
insecticide or purely the virulence and vicious determination of the
band of humans which finally overcame the Kralons. But as soon as he
saw that both were down, limbs threshing, he led the group to the Hive
entry and down the huge corridor.
He almost grinned as he thought of this ludicrous army storming the
ramparts of a fantastic race in the dim forgotten past, for the motley
human crowd from a dozen different ages brandished clubs, stones, and
knives, and McClellan was twirling his improvised lariat.
Quickly the agent found the entry to the Time Trap laboratory and
opened the panel. The Kralon guard didn't have much chance, for it was
already lethargic from the effects of the DDT, and the milling mob of
humans soon swarmed over its prostrate figure.
Wasting no time, Gordo Lanson rapidly began his check tests with the
drycell, calling out his readings to Malherne who noted them down on
the white wall.
Meanwhile, Randall was determined to find out definitely what had
happened to the McMahons. Calling McClellan, he left the Time Trap
laboratory and led the way to the operating room. No trace of any form
there.
From room to room they searched. Finally they arrived at the council
room door. Randall opened it and stepped in, McClellan close behind
him. What he saw brought the gorge to his throat, inured though he was
to dealing in violence.
It was quite apparent that Jackson had failed to sell the Kralon
Council the truth of his innocence. Their final acts had been to exact
retribution.
* * * * *
Slowly the two men turned away, then continued their search for some
sign of the McMahons. And Randall knew then, with a sudden flash of
insight, that the phase of the future to which he and his companions
would soon return would not know the names of Blake Garnet, Jerome
Jackson, or Charles and Evelyn McMahon. He knew with an esoteric
knowledge that in that particular future there would have been just
seven Diamvator passengers and himself scheduled on the historic
trip. And he was somehow sure that the passenger check list would
substantiate that count.
For it would be an alternate phase of the future, rather than the
one in which those people had, or might have existed. Those four
personalities would henceforth exist only as a memory in his mind. And
perhaps it wouldn't even be strictly a memory. Perhaps it would be a
dream; an ephemeral and elusive link between alternate potential Time
phases.
There was a fantastic thought! Perhaps all dreams were but vague links
between Time potentials or alternate phases.
Then Randall impatiently thrust aside the fanciful theories and turned
to the search.
The room he and McClellan now entered was quite obviously a genetics
research laboratory. And it was there that they found unmistakable
evidence of the two young McMahons.
They examined the grisly proof that the young couple had been
victimized by vicious Kralon experiments. Apparently the research was
aimed at the use of human gene-determinants in synthesizing a greater
Kralon race.
In the next room Randall found a case filled with metallic sheets
covered with hieroglyphics. Feeling that the records might hold
information of value to Zor Ala and Lanson, the agent removed the first
sheet and took it with him.
Back in the Time Trap room he called it to Zor Ala's attention, and
while Lanson and Malherne were busily completing their transpositions
and calibrations, the future-man excitedly examined the record.
"It's written in Ulla!" he cried. "The Universal written language
adopted in the 30th Century for documentary purposes. Where did you
find it?"
Randall led the way back to the room where he had found the records.
Zor Ala avidly began to read the information contained in the file,
making notes from time to time on his mechanical pocket recorder.
Meanwhile Randall wandered from room to room, finding that the DDT had
done a thorough job, for nowhere did he find a sign of life in the
motionless Kralon corpses.
When he finally returned to the vault, Zor Ala looked up from his work
and took a deep breath.
"Randall," he said, his fine eyes shining with an almost evangelical
light, "this is a summary of the most magnificent revelation in the
history of the universe!"
On the way back to the generator room Randall plied him with questions,
but Zor Ala was so deep in thought that he didn't even hear them.
As they re-entered the Time Trap laboratory, Malherne and Lanson looked
up from their work. At Zor Ala's gesture they paused in their labor,
and the rest of the humans waited for his words.
"Friends," he said, his splendid head held proudly, and his deep voice
rich with the surge of mighty emotion, "before we again return to our
various ages, it is important that all of us know the most astounding
story that it has ever been the privilege of mortal men to hear."
While the crowd fell silent within the room, and those in the corridor
crowded closer to hear his words, Zor Ala continued:
"It is the story of Man in all his glory! It is the story of a
superb race of men who exist so far in the future that my own age is
antediluvian by comparison. It is the stupendous history of that race's
realization of the ultimate goal of Life; a goal so tremendous that its
concepts were staggering, even to those supremely mature minds!"
Zor Ala paused, drew a deep breath, then went on.
"Those far distant future-men knew that goal to be far more important
than any one life or any one race or any galaxy. They knew that no
effort should be spared in its ultimate accomplishment.
"That infinite purpose transcended even individual or racial survival,
and this almost divinely intelligent and benevolent race knew that the
history of Life's development must be reviewed; must be re-examined
to determine whether Mankind was the most suitable vehicle for its
eventual attainment.
"Following this postulate, they developed the science of Dimensional
Time, and devised equipment for investigating the past. There, their
first test of Man's fitness for the ultimate purpose was to aid forms
of life other than Man.
"First they set up elaborate scientific equipment to provide an
artificial evolutionary leap ahead for one form which had diverged from
the main stem.
"Knowing full well that if this life-form progressed, Man's whole
future would undoubtedly be replaced by an alternate future of insect
supremacy, this super-race without hesitation continued its work of
producing a tremendous artificial advancement for the rudimentary
invertebrates.
* * * * *
"They accomplished this objective by inducing a re-encystment or
pupation which carried the invertebrates up the evolutionary ladder
countless millions of years in a single stride!
"They fully realized that if their help was successful in aiding
this life-form to reach ascendance, that Man's phase--their phase of
the future--would no longer exist. But they knew that the infinite
importance of the ultimate goal must be placed above all else!
"Thus the Kralons sprang suddenly from low invertebrate stock which had
strayed off as a branch of the main evolutionary stem. But they were
an artificial race, raised to their pedestal among other life-forms by
outside help, rather than through sturdy, solid evolutionary progress."
Zor Ala paused while his audience looked at each other soberly, all
realizing that the Kralons had failed the splendid chance which had
been offered them by the almost divine race of the far distant future.
And then they realized that they themselves had played a part in the
cosmic scheme which once again was assuring Man of his place in Life.
They had helped to forge another link in the chain of evidence pointing
toward the conclusion that Man and Man alone was to be selected to
reach that ultimate goal!
Zor Ala continued!
"The investigators assigned by the super-race were not content with
testing only this single life-form against Man's development. They
combed the infinite past, selecting various promising genera to aid;
hoping, always hoping in their hearts that Man himself would emerge
from the tests as the chosen species, but never allowing that hope to
influence their work.
"They helped man, very many species with well-planned steps; a help
which Man's progenitors never had. They implanted determinant genes
in a certain reptilian branch which eventually produced the mighty
dinosaurs' great size; reasoning that the advantage of protective size
might allow this life-type to evolve toward the heights.
"But the reptiles also failed their chance, possibly even as the
Kralons are failing theirs. Perhaps, like the Kralons they were not
satisfied with all the help the future had already given them. Perhaps
they, like the selfish insects, again reached forward in Time for more
and more unearned information, thus bringing back the elements of their
own destruction!"
The listening humans exhaled almost as one. This was a concept so
vast that it was almost mentally painful; yet so glorious in its
implications for Man that every heart felt the surge of a mighty
emotion.
Randall looked around at his companions. On every face he saw the glory
of tremendous purpose.
No longer would they blunder through Life with fumbling and despairing
uncertainty. No more would hollow frustration gnaw at searching minds
which eternally wondered: "Why survive? For what purpose? What is our
destiny?"
Now they knew! Now the distant view of a magnificent purpose would be
always before them, filling them with a vast serenity coupled with a
mighty incentive. Whence now, little man? Onward!