Wayfarer - Satori Part 4

For several moments, it seemed as if he had stopped, for he sat perfectly still, his eyes staring off into the distance. But then he lifted his gaze up, up toward the sky. When he spoke, his voice was husky with longing. "But they've got them. Lots of them. Whole fleets of them. Stars.h.i.+ps. More than they know what to do with. Enough to take us anywhere we want to go."

He drew himself up decisively. "That's the opportunity I'm talking about. Those s.h.i.+ps. Oh, I know there's only one scout up there right now. But more are coming, you can. bet on it. A whole fleet, maybe, depending on what the scout reports back. When they arrive, they could be bringing us our death. But they could also be bringing us the universe!"

Stunned, they sat and stared at the heavy man until an elderly woman across the circle from Myali rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hand and muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, "Lovely, lovely. All we have to do is s.n.a.t.c.h a fleet of stars.h.i.+ps from their warlike owners. But how to do it?

Especially since we're weaponless?"

"Not completely weaponless, Mother," murmured the Way-Farer. "Just unsure of our own power, unversed in the use of the weapons we hold."

"Ah, yes," she replied, a sweet, innocent smile playing about her lips. "Of course. How foolish of me.

We're armed like a young swordsman, new to his art, unsure of his techniques, but brave, oh so brave, and willing to face the Ronin to save his people."

"Bah!" she snarled, her face suddenly changing and becoming hard. "Fools die that way! So do races. s.n.a.t.c.h stars.h.i.+ps, indeed. 'Not weaponless,' nonsense! One false move and they'll bring a whole fleet, all right. To burn this planet and all our fine ideals into cinders! "

"And that's the real danger of the path we've been on for so long. It's not just that we can't reach out and grab the universe, it's that we can't stop the universe from reaching out and grabbing us! Right now, after fourteen generations, after conquering a world and the Mus.h.i.+n, we're virtually back where we started ... defenseless in the face of any enemy that threatens our very existence. We can't fight because we haven't prepared ourselves to fight any more than the Pilgrims were prepared to fight the mind leeches."

Silence greeted her statements as their truth pierced deep into everyone's mind. Josh was the first torecover and ask, "Then you'd have us give up?"

"Give up? Don't be a double fool, young man! Give up and they'll come marching in here and take over. Then you can kiss everything we've ever worked for goodbye. Oh, it'd be nice to believe they've changed. Grown wings and haloes or whatever. But they obviously haven't. They're out there hiding, sneaking and skulking around in a manner that's hardly angelic. Initial caution is to be understood. But they've been here long enough to know we pose no threat. If they had good intentions, they'd have shown themselves by now rather than lurking in the dark. Huh. They're just trying to decide how to go about the rape, not wondering whether to rape or not."

"No, giving up isn't the answer any more than trying to fight them on their own terms is. Stop thinking in black and white, all of you! Haven't you learned anything from Nakamura's example? He faced an impossible choice of alternatives, just as we do. And rather than choosing either one, he found a totally unexpected way out." Her face grew crafty. " We have to start thinking like Nakamura. Things are happening. The universe is flowing. The key is to do as he did and find how it's flowing so we can go with it to achieve our purpose through its effort. There are an infinite number of possibilities from this point on, not just two! How we choose to act will open some options, close others. We need to scheme and plan to make sure we pick the right ones to reach our goal."

"Are you proposing a seeing?" Myali asked in wonder.

"d.a.m.n right I am. Oh, I know how dangerous that is. Don't bother with scary tales about s.h.i.+fting possibility lines and observers affecting reality. It's all irrelevant in this case. We don't have any choice.

It's a seeing, or we stumble on and b.u.mp right into disaster."

"A seeing is no guarantee of success, Mother Ilia. It only shows the multiple probabilities. Everything is always shrouded in the mists of uncertainty," the Way-Farer warned solemnly.

"Bah," she retorted. "Don't forget who you're talking to, Robert. I know as well as you do what's involved in a seeing. Remember: A man with only one eye sees better than a man with none. So, vague and uncertain as it may be, a plan based on seeing is vastly superior to one based on the blind hope everything will turn out happily because the universe loves us."

The Way-Farer looked at each of them in turn, his gaze moving clockwise around the circle. "Do we all agree with Mother Ilia, then? Do we all feel a seeing is called for?" Silent acquiescence greeted his questioning glance. He sighed. "Ah, well, then. A seeing. I remind you all how personally dangerous it can be. Once confronted with the multiple universes that a seeing reveals, many minds are incapable of finding their way back home to their own probability line again. Of course, those of us who are more adept at the technique will lead and guard you, but the peril still exists. No one is compelled to join, although admittedly, the more who do, the stronger the seeing will be."

Myali glanced at the others out of the sides of her eyes. Everyone seemed to be stolidly accepting the idea of going ahead with it! No one even hinted at a desire to step out of the circle. Are they all fools?

she wondered. People die in seeings. That's why they're restricted, even on an individual basis. And this, this was a ma.s.sive one-one that had to explore the possible futures of the whole planet!

Her eyes flashed around the circle once more, wildly hoping to see someone else who doubted and feared as she did. If even one of them felt it, she knew she would stand and leave. Even one!

But the rest appeared calm, some of them already beginning the quieting exercise that preceded any group effort. G.o.ds, she thought. I've got to go through with it, then. But my mind is so confused, so unsure. How will I ever find my way back when I'm not any too certain where I'm starting from?

Myali felt someone's eyes on her. Looking across the circle, she saw that Mother Ilia was watching her intently. "Young woman," she said sharply, "are you sure you're really up to this? You're a Wanderer, you know, and that indicates a certain unsettling of the mind."

"Yes, Myali," Josh added. "Maybe you should sit this out."

The suggestion from others, especially her big brother, that she might not be fit enough to partic.i.p.ate in the seeing, stiffened her resolve. How dare they? she thought. Haughtily, she returned Mother Ilia's stare. "I can handle it," she said in an icy tone.

"d.a.m.n stubborn," muttered the old woman. Then her face softened and she smiled. "d.a.m.n stubborn, but d.a.m.n brave, too. You'll do, my dear. But I'll keep my eye on you just the same."Father Kadir nodded to them all. "Thank you. I think we might as well begin." He settled himself firmly into full lotus, left leg over right, hands palm upward in his lap, left fingers over right, thumb tips touching. The others followed his, example, closed their eyes, and began rhythmic breathing.

Myali felt a sudden yearning for one last look at the world before closing her eyes. Surprised by the urgency of her own need, she was almost overwhelmed by the flood of sensations that poured through her hungry senses. There was so much beauty! The sun blazed like a vast smile in a sky whose blue intensity was only heightened by the occasional fluffs of cloud that b.u.mbled across it. A warm breeze played light-fingered games with her hair and snuggled joyfully in the loose folds of her robe. The gra.s.s around her gave a blue-green shout of sheer exuberance and then crept softly off to cover the hills. Josh is right, she realized with genuine delight. How could I have missed it? It is a beautiful day!

With a sigh of reluctance, she began to disengage her attention from the outside, refocusing it internally. Duty, she thought. I had a chance to avoid it. Wisely or not, I made my choice.

Her eyes lightly closed, she began breathing deeply, letting her body and mind relax. In, out, in, out, her breath traveled. She allowed her attention to follow it, in, out. Gradually she became aware that she was following the breath of the others, in, out, matching and merging with the common rhythm.

Slowly the shared rhythm pa.s.sed on beyond mere breath and became the beat of her whole body, brought into harmony with that of those seated in the circle with her. Her heart beat with theirs, her blood surged as theirs surged, until at last there was no her or them, but only One that was All.

Unbidden, the words of a chant suffused her whole being and vibrated throughout her body-mind, once more changing the pattern and meter of her existence.

Moons, moons, s.h.i.+ning down on waters, waters moving slowly, moons moving slowly, yet being still.

Still the waters, still the moons.

Movement, strife, all longing is but reflection, pa.s.sing to stillness when the mind is calmed.

Quiet stilling, then slowing of all rhythms, all motion. Almost, almost movement ceased. Then began again in a new pace, one not belonging to any of them, or even to all of them, but coming from someplace Beyond. The words of a new chant washed across her awareness.

Flowing, flowing, timelike flowing through the s.p.a.celike frame of being, flowing to the stable center, to the place of ceaseless stillness, to the moveless heart of motion inward, inward to the center, inward to unbinding chaos, release of meaning, form, existence ...

Time slowed, stopped. s.p.a.ce collapsed. The two melted into one, then compressed, all points becoming a single event.

In a blinding explosion, possibility suddenly surged outward, spreading all the richness of s.p.a.cetime out and out and out.

It was like looking down from a height on a series of transparent planes, infinite in number, each emerging from another and then flowing on to branch yet again and again. From Now they rippled off in all directions, filling the whole volume of time, right to the dark horizon of the future. On some of them, Kens...o...b..oomed in the distance, a bright ball of angry flame. In others, the sun that warmed the planetbulged and burst in a torrent of bright destruction. Here and there, the planet charred and died. Or part of it did. Or it remained green. Or iced over. Or ... or ... or ... or ...

And then she saw a path, twisting out through the planes from one to another, down, over, around, right, left. Others appeared. Infinitely others. They tugged at her awareness, pulled at her being, whispering things and futures she had never guessed at. From the height she felt herself slipping, beginning to fall down and through those endless possibilities. Terror seized her and she struggled, flailing about wildly for something to hold on to. But as soon as she grasped anything, it melted and flowed away. She screamed. And sensed a presence, calm, firm, strong. Hysterically, she made a grab for it. It held. With a gigantic effort she hauled herself back up. Then she felt the thing she clung to slipping, slipping, pulled off balance by her tugging. Bracing herself, she heaved, trying desperately to keep it from falling. Straining with all her might, she simply wasn't strong enough. She felt a rending and stumbled back, clutching a part of the thing to her while the rest wailed off into vastness.

With a snap, she found herself back on the gra.s.s at Basecamp, weeping hysterically. Several others were sobbing as well. A few sat dazedly, holding their heads in trembling hands. Two lay sprawled in twisted positions.

The Way-Farer, his face gray with fatigue and pain, rose and went to one of the figures that lay so quietly in the afternoon sun. He bent down and placed his head against the chest. Myali wiped the streaming tears from her eyes and tried to make out who it was. She knew, though, in a way she couldn't explain. As he leaned back, his face more drawn than ever, dark eyes heavy with grief, she saw the ashen profile of Mother Ilia. "Dead," he said simply. As he spoke, the other p.r.o.ne body stirred. "Alive,"

he declared with equal simplicity, but with a whole different world of meaning.

Father Kadir got shakily to his feet, looking down at them from what seemed an incredible height.

"We have seen," he said softly. "We have seen and paid the price.

"Now we must continue to pay the price. For the only hope for Kensho is one that requires great sacrifice on the part of a few so that many may live. And even then, the outcome is not sure. So many possibilities," he muttered to himself, "So many possibilities."

"We must try," Josh croaked, his voice quivering with exhaustion. "We must try."

The Way-Farer nodded. "And who will carry the burden?"

Myali looked groggily up at him, her eyes, still br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears, drooping with sudden fatigue. He was looking directly at her as he asked the question.

Suddenly she knew the answer, knew to the very depths of her being who would carry the burden of Kensho. And oddly, the knowing, rather than oppressing her, made her feel free for the first time in years. She understood how slim the chances for success were. And how slight the odds in favor of personal survival. But something of Mother Ilia's iron will, perhaps the fragment she had managed to grasp as the rest had slipped away, sustained and strengthened her.

She held her head up proudly and said firmly, "I will, Father."

V.

"d.a.m.n it," Admiral Yamada complained, "it just doesn't make sense!"

"I agree, Thomas, and that is precisely what worries me." Bishop Thwait was pacing back and forth along the table in the briefing room. "But you have seen the data and the close-up photos. That is a whole different type of civilization down there. One we do not even have a cla.s.sification for. They obviously use metals, but only in limited quant.i.ties. They have a multiplicity of energy resources; yet do not even bother to exploit some of the most obvious ones. Industry is present, but scattered in basically inefficient units.

Most astonis.h.i.+ng of all, however, is the total lack of any form of long-distance communications network or transportation system." He shook his head. "It is a world of glaring contradictions, Thomas, and I do not like the feel of it."

Thomas slapped the table with his hand. "To h.e.l.l with all that 'socioeconomic' c.r.a.p! They can have all the contradictions they want in their stinking society.What worries me is there's not one indication of any military complex anywhere on the whole d.a.m.n planet. Nothing!"

He spun his chair around to glare at the pacing bishop. "d.a.m.n it, that's not natural, Andrew! h.e.l.l, there aren't even any population complexes. They're just spread out all over the place like a peaceful herd of grazing cows or something. But they aren't cows, d.a.m.n it! They're people. And people fight and have armies and military bases and ... and ... s.h.i.+t! It just isn't natural!"

Bishop Thwait stopped pacing and gazed thoughtfully at the seated man. "It would make sense if all their defensive and offensive systems were located off-planet. If the systems were so powerful that their very presence on the planet would endanger the lives of the inhabitants."

"Nice idea," Thomas replied sarcastically, "but it doesn't pan out. Most of the probes we sent around the system have reported back by now and there's no sign of anything." For a moment he paused, considering, then slapped the table again and stood, his mind made up. "Andrew, contradictions or not, there's only one obvious answer. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are a Cla.s.s Three or less. We can go in and take over ourselves. No need to even call in the fleet. I suggest we land a full company of marines, secure a beachhead, and impose our rule, soonest."

Andrew looked pensive. "Hmmmmm. That would be a nice little feather in your cap, wouldn't it, Thomas? Capturing a whole planet single-handedly? Excellent for the record." He held up his hand to forestall the other man's protest. "But on the other hand, suppose your little company of marines were to go planetside and be wiped out? How would you respond? Fire on the planet from s.p.a.ce? Burn it? Call in the fleet and create another Quarnon?"

"d.a.m.n it," interrupted the admiral with an angry shout, "who in the h.e.l.l do you think-"

"I think I am the representative of the Power aboard this scout, that is who I think I am!" the bishop interrupted coldly. "And I will permit no unnecessary or potentially dangerous military action."

"Dangerous? Tell me how in the h.e.l.l a military action against an unarmed planet can be dangerous?"

"Because I do not believe for one moment that that planet is unarmed! Thomas, Nakamura was a military man, an admiral. Do you think he wouldn't have made some provisions for the defense of his colony? All right, I agree things look amazingly calm down there right now. But that could be the result of the fact that they feel secure because they have a very adequate defensive system we are not aware of yet.

"Now I know we have made a thorough search of every hiding place we can think of. But what we are looking for may just be hidden in some place we haven't thought of. And I would hate to discover that with a company of marines down-planet.

"Thomas, believe me, I want to bring this planet to the Power without having to resort to the fleet as much as you do. It certainly would not hurt my career any more than it would yours.

"But at the same time, attempting that is putting both our futures out on a limb unless we are d.a.m.n sure we will succeed. I do not wish to have to call the fleet in here to rescue us."

Somewhat mollified, the admiral sat back in his chair with a grunt. "Huh. So what are you proposing, then? It better be good. I'm getting bored waiting around for some action."

Thwait sighed. "There will be action, Thomas. I can a.s.sure you of that. But it will be at our time and of our making. First, I propose we send a squad of your men and mine to the flags.h.i.+p to secure it. I do not like it sitting out there, dead or not. With our own crew aboard, we would control it and be rid of one more potential threat.

"Second, I think we should send a reconnaissance mission on-planet to gather more information and probe the enemy more thoroughly than is possible from out here. This should be an on-ground mission, not simply fly-overs. That way it would be both less conspicuous and less provocative."

Yamada eyed the bishop coldly. "Who did you intend to send down on this suicide mission? That's what it's likely to be, you know."

"I was thinking of a team of your men and mine, say three of each."

The admiral shook his head. "No. I won't risk any of my men that way. They'd have to be adjusted, I a.s.sume? That's what I thought. I have few enough effectives as it is. Can't afford to destroy any of them that way. Sorry, Andrew, you'll have to use up your own men."The bishop swore silently. Thomas is such a fool, he cursed. The farthest he can see beyond the end of his nose is to the end of the muzzle of his gun. Of course the adjustment necessary for such a mission would destroy a few men's minds. But how many more might be destroyed, body as well as mind, if we make a false move and get engaged in a battle? Well, then, he thought, if Thomas refuses to cooperate, that fact will be noted in my reports. And if things turn out as I think they will, such obstinacy will reflect as poorly on him as my handling of it will reflect well on me. Thomas, Thomas, you seal your own fate.

Out loud he asked, "I take that as an official refusal?"

"Take it any way you want, d.a.m.n it!" the other man said, his temper running short. "If you want to diddle around with a d.a.m.n spy mission on a planet that obviously couldn't defend itself from a stinking shuttle, go right ahead! But let me tell you this for the record, too, Andrew. I 'm getting a company of marines ready to go down-planet. And I'm giving you exactly one week standard to show me why I shouldn't send them down. If you can't make one h.e.l.l of a good case, I 'm going to take this planet myself and shed as much G.o.dd.a.m.n blood as I can while doing it!" Flinging his chair back to crash against the wall, he rose and stomped from the room without a backward glance.

As soon as he was sure the man was actually gone, Bishop Thwait moved swiftly to the comm-unit and punched in Chandra's code. As the man's face appeared and he bowed, Andrew asked, "Did you get all of that down?" Chandra nodded. "Everything, Wors.h.i.+p."

"Good, good," the bishop murmured, rubbing his thin hands together. "Now come up here right away. I will want your advice on planning the on-planet spy mission. No, on second thought, meet me in my quarters instead." He slapped the disconnect b.u.t.ton without waiting for the other's response or bow.

Turning, he went to the door, palmed it open, and strode into the corridor. It was officially night time in this section of the s.h.i.+p, so the corridor lights were low and there was very little traffic. During the entire walk back to his own quarters, he saw only one other person, a crew member with a clipboard and a worried expression. He nodded at the man in response to his formal bow.

Chandra was waiting at his door when he got there.

Ah, Chandra, he thought. So efficient, so loyal. Thirteen years of service. In a way, though, that worried him a little. The man knew so much. Perhaps too much. Might it not be wise to replace him?

Thwait led the way into his quarters, motioning Chandra to a chair. "Would you care for some coffee?" he asked. "The real thing, not the ersatz. Of course, it is not from Earth. Became impossible to grow it there years ago. But this is a hybrid that seems to thrive on Barnard Two. Very like the original, I am told." While he talked, he moved to a console where he punched out his request. After a moment, a panel slid up, revealing two steaming cups of a brownish-black beverage. Thomas lifted them out and handed one to Chandra, taking the other over to his favorite chair and settling down.

After a few appreciative sips, he began. "Yes, well, to business. A spy mission to the planet. Have we three we can spare?"

"Wors.h.i.+p, I honestly don't think so. Since suspending Dunn, we've had to do a lot of s.h.i.+fting of workloads. People are still acclimating and haven't made the adjustment yet. I fear pulling three more out would cause a major disruption."

"Hmmmmmmm. Yes. But your mention of Dunn gives me an idea. He is already wiped clean, so an adjustment would be easy on him. No loss at all, really. Let's see, we would have to give him an overlay of a spy profile. That would be easy enough.

"The problem, though, would be the rest of his personality. A profile is hardly adequate to create a functioning human being. And of course Dunn does not have a personality any longer. A conundrum, to be sure. We could always do a transfer with someone else, but that would take someone out of action for a good week. Hmmmmmmm."

For several moments, Bishop Thwait sat quietly, his fingers gently stroking his lower face as he concentrated. Suddenly his eyes brightened and he sat upright. "Yes! That's it! " he cried. "Perfect! A bit unorthodox, but it solves several problems at once!"

He stood and began pacing about the room. "Chandra," he began, "this is ultra secret. No one aboard s.h.i.+p must know of this except you and me. I will leave the details to you, and they are considerable, including stealing a shuttle without anyone knowing about it. But I am sure you willmanage."

"Now. I am going to send you and one other man of your choice down-planet. Wipe the other man when you get back, by the way. There you will kidnap a native, a young one about Dunn's age. s.e.x is immaterial. But do it so no one on the planet sees you. Pick some isolated area, some isolated individual.

Bring them back here, again letting no one aboard s.h.i.+p see you or be aware of what is going on. We might use the placing of a crew on the flags.h.i.+p as a cover, by the way.

"So. Bring the kidnapped person to the Room. I will have Dunn ready. We will do a transfer there.

That way Dunn will get a basic personality, one suited to the planet itself. And he will also get the language rather than having to hole up for a while on-planet to learn it." The bishop rubbed his hands together gleefully. "Neat. Yes, very neat. You see, Chandra, that way we even gain a subject to probe for information we could not get any other way! We can learn more from peeling off the layers of a native's mind than by all the sensor probes in the galaxy. Data! We will have some good, useful data.

And it will be subjective, psychological information rather than a bunch of electromagnetic rubbish. We will find out how their minds work, Chandra. And once we know that, we will have the key to defeating them!"

He came back to his chair and sat down again with a sigh. "A few details. The transmitter we implant in the spy must vary slightly from standard. I want a direct, leak-proof, coded channel paired to my personal receiver. All information will be sent to me first, for editing, before it is sent out on the general channel. Of course, no one is to know of this.

"Second, I want a mind scrambler implanted as well as the usual belly bomb. Hook them both up to the computer and my voice command. Cue word is to be, hmmmmm, let's see ... ah, yes, 'Einstein.' Yes, very suitable for Dunn, I think.

"Is everything clear, Chandra? Yes? Good. Then get to it. I want the down-planet mission arranged and ready to go simultaneously with the flags.h.i.+p takeover mission. Say in ten standards." The bishop arose and escorted Chandra to the door. The man bowed and left.

Humming in a pleased way, Andrew Thwait walked slowly over to his bookcase and pulled down his copy of the Book. At random he opened it and began to read aloud: "Yea, they knew more of the heart of the atom than they knew of the heart of themselves. They knew not themselves, nor the evil that lurked within them. Yet in their pride they thought they knew all."

He paused, musing. Chandra, he thought. Perhaps it is time to be rid of the man and all he knows.

Especially if this whole affair goes well. Should some little accident happen to Chandra, there would be no one else to take any credit at all. In fact, he calculated, the loss of my closest lieutenant will make any victory much more clearly mine. Against all sorts of odds. Hmmmmmm. Yes. But not quite yet. No, Chandra is still too useful to dispose of yet. Perhaps after the kidnapping and placement of the spy.