III

Mark's hand tightened on the hard object he carried in a lower pocket

of his tunic. It seemed to him as if an immeasurably distant vibration

reached the very top of his brain where the most difficult thinking

is done. It was a fleeting thought, the barest sidereal whisper, that

was gone almost the instant it impinged upon his mind. Could the final

answer lie there for them?

With Terra gone, or made uninhabitable, they would be homeless

children of space, unless they subjected themselves to the prosaic,

uninspiring existence of the planetarian settlements, limited by space,

rigidly under Council control--their lives but pawns in a gigantic

game that was planned for centuries to come with a cold, mathematical

impersonality that reduced life to a mechanical phenomenon. Mark

shuddered slightly.

"Yes, Palanth, poetic justice indeed! Come to my apartment at

International House, I want to tell you a story ... the story of what

happened on Europa when I was Mark the daredevil, recorded as Hugh

Betancourt--the surname of my Mentor before I earned my rank and the

right to use my own name. Jim Brannigan was my second in command, when

he crashed our ship on Europa...." He was smiling with a distant look

in his eyes.

Later, they met Doctor Fortun.

She was still sheathed in the filmy tunic of silver-violet she had worn

at Havanol. The fragrance of Venusian butterfly-orchids was a faint

invitation to desire. But her firm, capable hands at the controls, sent

the luxurious helio-plane hurtling through the stratosphere at a dizzy

speed above a continental cloud bank.

Dawn was beginning in a young flood of opalescent fire; the ship was

dipping and the clouds were swirling. Doctor Fortun sat silent with an

enigmatic smile on her lips. Mark Lynn didn't speak lest he break the

spell, while Palanth leaned back in his mullioned seat, eyes closed,

recapturing the past memorable hours.

At last the terrain became visible.

It seemed only seconds and they were hovering above the immense

interplanetary field where vast spacers awaited launching. Built to

accommodate hundreds of thousands, their titanic proportions dwarfed

everything around them. Doctor Fortun touched the controls of her

helio-plane, and instantly the ship veered and aimed straight for one

of the spacers. She flicked a lever and locked the controls. Calmly,

she released another lever, and the robot pilot took over. She leaned

back with a sigh, her shoulders slumped, silent still.

Mark Lynn's eyes widened. "What are you doing! We'll crash against that

Spacer...." He leaped to the controls but the locking mechanism had

been set for arrival and could not be unlocked until the ship came to a

stop. At the urgency in his voice, Palanth jerked forward wide awake,

in time to glimpse the cavernous proportions of the starboard port of

the interplanetary spacer yawning open to receive them.

As it entered the stupendous spacer, the helio-plane decelerated

suddenly, coming to an abrupt stop that pressed them back against

their ultra-padded seats as if a gigantic hand had pushed them back.

Instantly the spacer's port closed automatically without a sound and

vari-colored lights flashed within the ship. A bell rang shrilly,

insistently somewhere.

"Strap yourselves immediately and push that small lever on the side of

your seats, it'll convert them into couches," Doctor Fortun directed

hurriedly. "Prepare for launching!" She herself was already busy

converting her own seat and then strapping herself. From a pocket of

her tunic she took a tiny box and opening it took two pellets which she

swallowed; within seconds she was unconscious. Mark reached over and

took the box from her nerveless fingers. "Vanadol! For those who do not

wish the sleep-freeze, Palanth! Do you want any? Or will you withstand

the gravs?"

"Neither, I'll submerge my conscious mind and thus preserve everything

that occurs in my subconscious without suffering the effects of

acceleration."

"So will I," Mark agreed. His dark green eyes were lambent with fury.

"We've been tricked very neatly, old Spacer. We're going somewhere,

willy-nilly. The first trick's theirs!" He gazed at the unconscious

form of the girl with a mixture of sorrow and anger. "The same old

story on a higher plane," he whispered to himself. "A memorable

night--and the next day shanghaied into space! I wonder if the ancients

staffed their crude water vessels in this manner?"

* * * * *

As they submerged their conscious minds, a buzzer vibrated throughout

the interplanetary spacer, a tremor went through the beryllium alloy

monster and suddenly it catapulted into space on the astro-warp,

robot-controlled until beyond the gravitational pull of Terra. The

tiny Helio-Plane, tiny in comparison with the titanic spacer, hung

suspended in a special craddle to minimize still further the effects

of 2g's acceleration. Doctor Fortun and the two Internationals were

too valuable to take chances. But the incongruous three were beyond

inductive thinking as the "Stellar-Virgin" leaped away from Earth.

They didn't hear a mechanical voice order: "Free fall into orbit

three." Presently the ship settled into the warp. After a while, the

same mechanical voice ordering: "Free fall into orbit nine." Presently

the Space Drive took hold as the interplanetary cruiser warped out into

free space. The normal gravity plates began to function and instantly

the pressure ceased.

Color returned to Mark Lynn's face, he was the first to awaken.

From where he lay, he could see the still form of Palanth, a fallen

dishevelled giant, and the fragile figure of Doctor Fortun, pale as

death and as still. A pang of pity shot through him, then remembering,

a surge of anger made his eyes grow cold.

Leisurely he unstrapped himself and stretched, then went over and

unstrapped his two companions. "Well, we're together, for better or for

worse," he sighed. Just then Palanth shuddered and opened his violet

eyes; at sight of Mark he sat up abruptly, passing a dazed hand over

his eyes. Then he saw the still unconscious form of Doctor Fortun and

recollection came to him.

"She's still asleep," Mark said softly. "Let her rest, we'll have ample

time for explanations."

Suddenly Palanth laughed. "Shanghaied, by Jupiter's Red Spot!" He

searched assiduously for his eternal kerchief. "Ah, here it is ..."

then remembering, "My extracts! All my fragrances that have taken years

to collect, left on Terra!" He cursed venomously in five interplanetary

dialects until he was out of breath.

"Magnificent!" Mark commented admiringly.

* * * * *

Palanth subsided into smoldering fury, his great eyes almost black, the

chiselled nostrils quivering. To him it was an appalling loss.

"Go on, don't stop now," Mark urged him grinning. "Later, when she

wakes up, you won't be able to mourn your perfumes; now's your

chance, besides I'd like some of those remarks for my own collection,

Planetarian!"

"You'll find them in your private quarters awaiting you in the Spacer,"

a wan voice said wearily. "I feel as if I'd been mangled," Doctor

Fortun sighed tremulously. Both men turned toward the girl, but her

slender body had not stirred, the eyes were closed, only a tiny, tired

smile hovered on the curving lips.

"Didn't know you were awake!" Mark reddened at the recollection of the

lurid language.

"Praise be to Antares. My extracts ... where are they, where are my

quarters ... let's get out of here!" Palanth could think of nothing but

his priceless collection. "Without them I'd have to condition myself to

pollution!"

"You're not very complimentary, Martian!" Doctor Fortun chided, her

hazel eyes flickered open and she sat up. The girl surveyed Mark Lynn

with calm, clear eyes. "What, no violence, not even recriminations?

What an utterly erroneous conception the Council has about you

Internationals," she observed, and waited for Mark to speak.

"We don't indulge in futilities, Doctor Fortun," Mark replied. "But

perhaps you can give us an inkling of what all this is about; I think

we deserve at least that much, Scientist!"

The girl seemed to meditate in silence. An odd, half fearful, half

ashamed expression flitted across her features. "Yes, you deserve a

great deal more than I can offer you, Spacer Lynn. But I'm afraid I

can only give you another unpleasant experience to chalk up against

me. It's all part of a pattern agreed upon even before you and your

companion arrived on Terra. It was thought that only your influence on

Internationals and Philosophers could persuade them to evacuate--they'd

believe you, where they would never trust the Council. It was necessary

that you be seen on Terra--when you entered the Council building, it

was visi-screened in detail throughout the World State; your encounter

with the attacker on the street, was seen by countless millions. It

had to be established that you were on Terra, and in touch with the

Council, so that your audio-visi-screen broadcast should be considered

_authentic_."

* * * * *

"But I didn't broadcast, my orders from the Council were to promise

all Internationals, Philosophers and the Ruralians--in fact, all

dissenters--a habitable planet to which they would be transported in

sleep-freeze, together with all metallic substances, seeds, plasms,

drugs, food, in fact everything required for their normal existence

for a five-year cycle--free from interference by the Government of the

World State--provided they agreed to furnish the World State with an

equal amount of materials within one hundred years. I never believed

for an instant that the Council would relinquish control, the absolute

lack of weapons, or of machinery to fashion them, was in itself a proof

of intentions beyond the letter of the offer. I meant to refuse to

broadcast to the irreconcilables my personal guarantee as demanded by

the Council. Besides, I know of no such planet."

"That was why I took you to Havanol," Doctor Fortun nodded sadly. "The

Council anticipated your refusal--your psychological data easily

told them that--and since at Havanol only those with special permit

could enter, the guests were specially chosen, so that none without

the scientific circle knew you were there, thus your broadcast became

authentic in the minds of the dissenters. You noticed there were no

visi-screens at Havanol, under the excuse that nothing that did not

contribute to pleasure could be permitted."

"But I tell you, I didn't broadcast!" Mark was becoming exasperated.

"You keep on harping on that!"

"No, but your double did," the girl's voice was opaque. "Turn on the

visi-screen in the Spacer, and you'll learn the truth. Everything that

has been visi-screened on Terra since your arrival, was recorded in

the Spacer's telecast--simply select the broadcasts of the date and

hour when we went to Havanol, and it will be shown on the visi-screen

panel in the Commander's quarters. Your double--part resemblance,

part surgico-synthesis even imitates your voice within one-tenth of

a microgram of its tonal quality. Detection was beyond human power,

Spacer Lynn."

"If I ever get my hands on him...!" Mark's fingers clenched

spasmodically as his face went dark with passion.

"You never will," the girl said sadly, "nor on the double who took the

place of Palanth ... even that detail was taken care of, perfumes and

all," her smile was bitter. "By now, both have been converted to power

reserve, their usefulness having ended." There was an uncomfortable

pause, the silence becoming oppressive in the luxurious helio-plane of

the girl.

"Who's the Commander of the Interplanetary Spacer?" Mark asked at last,

his agile mind already seeking means to circumvent the snare.

"_You!_" was the laconic reply.

"I? Has the Council gone mad? Do they think that after what's happened

they can place a spacer in my power, and still command my allegiance? I

can lose their damned Patrol in uncharted space ... _and I will!_"

"No, Spacer Lynn, you'll have to find a better, a more definitive

solution than that. You see, you promised millions a planet of freedom,

where they could build a new civilization patterned after the old

American Constitution, but on an even greater, a wider plane of being.

You promised them freedom from the Council, and a chance to develop

untrammelled not only their minds but their emotions as well; you do

not know it, but your double was trained as a great actor, years of

conditioning and training taught him to ring the changes of emotion on

human souls not deadened by the controls. Reports showed that millions

wept, that a tidal wave of joy coursed through their ranks sending

them pouring like a human cataract into the awaiting spacers, and

sleep-freeze, Mark!"