The Silkie Page 13

  The Nijjan's reply was, 'It was a defensive act. Something grabbed me. I see now that it is an unusual gravitational manifestation. But in that first moment I reacted in two ways — immediate counterattack and retreat. As soon as I had considered what the threat was, I decided to return. And here I am. So let's talk.'

  It was a good explanation; yet Cemp's feeling remained — he didn't believe the story, couldn't accept it, considered it motivated by the Nijjan's desire to gain time. He had a desperate conviction that his danger was increasing with each passing moment.

  Cemp wondered, What does he want the time for?

  The obvious answer was time to explore the ship, of course. Its structure, its weaponry.

  'If what you say is true,' Cemp countered, 'then you will tell me what your method of attack was. How did your colleague kill a Silkie?'

  'It would be foolish of me to reveal my advantages,' answered the Nijjan. 'How do I know what your plans are?'

  Though that, also, was basically true, it was a total stop. Yet there were still things he could learn.

  Cemp sent out magnetic waves on all bands, designed to stir reactions in the other's body. He recorded the information that came back on magnetic waves passing through the Nijjan's body at the time his messages arrived.

  He used radar and read the data that bounced back.

  And geon waves, those strange time-delay patterns.

  He used the Ylem energy also — and that was dangerously close to being a weapon. But his purpose, which he telepathed to the Nijjan, was to elicit a reaction.

  If there was, in fact, any understanding for him in the waves and energies that reflected or came back to him, Cemp could not analyze it.

  With an effort, Cemp braced himself against the failure and commanded, 'Leave! Unless you reveal the method of murder, I refuse to continue this conversation. And I assure you that no further negotiations between our two groups can occur until that revelation is made.'

  The Nijjan answered, 'I cannot give such data without authorisation. So why not come with me and talk to ... 'He used a mental meaning that implied a government but had a different implication, which Cemp could not evaluate.

  Cemp answered, 'That would place me at your mercy.'

  'Somebody has to negotiate. why not you?'

  One thing, it seemed to Cemp, could be said for this Nijjan. As a deceiver, if that was what he was, he was certainly consistent.

  Telepathically, he temporised, 'How would I go with you?'

  'Move past me, across and into the projection of myself at a distance of...' The Nijjan named a measurement in terms of a certain magnetic wavelength.

  Once more, Cemp felt grudging admiration for this being. He thought, For all I know, if I do that, that will be his method of killing me.

  What was fascinating was that he was being maneuvered into doing it to himself.

  The extreme skillfulness of the deception involved, in this near-ultimate moment, focused Cemp's attention on that aspect.

  As he realised the possibility, Cemp did two things. He sent a beam to the trap mechanism that controlled the molecule with its planet-sized gravity, and he released the molecule's hold on the Nijjan.

  The rationale of this first action was that the being must be bracing himself against that gravity; he must be using power to hold himself away from it. At the moment of release he would have to deal with the resultant inertia, the equivalent of a planet's centrifugal thrust.

  The second thing Cemp did was more subtle, but he did it at the same instant. He tried logic of levels on the one behavior that he had now belatedly noticed in the Nijjan.

  And because he wasn't sure it would work and didn't want to give away what, until now, had been a human-Silkie secret, he hoped the gravity release would confuse the great being who had come into this trap with such total confidence in his own ability against Silkies. He hoped it would confuse the Nijjan, render him momentarily vulnerable, and, somehow, prevent disaster.

  The behavior Cemp believed he had observed was — the creature was manifesting the famous betrayal pattern.

  From the point of view of logic of levels, it was a minor event in the brain. Since it was the basic winning cycle of life, nothing decisive could be done against it. By triggering it, he could force the Nijjan to win more — which was ironic and could lead to unknown consequences. But it was the only opening available.

  Three things happened at the same moment. The molecule released; the betrayal cycle triggered; and Cemp entered the path of the energy beam that created the larger pyramid.

  He felt a sensation different from anything he had ever experienced. Under him and around him, the trapship ... vanished.

  He perceived that he was in a strange ... not place, for there was nothing. But... what'?

  * * *

  XXVI

  IN A GROUP, only the leader can betray. And he must betray, or be ready to betray, or there is no group.

  Everyone else has to conform, fit in, follow the rules, be a supporter without qualifications; even to think an objection is wrong.

  You must swear fealty to the leader 'without mental reservations.' You must support the code and, ideally, report to the leader's police any deviations from it on the part of others and on the part of yourself.

  At any moment for the good of the group — by the leader's judgment alone — you can be betrayed (sacrificed) without any other explanation being required.

  Periodically, you or some other conformist must be betrayed as a matter of policy, even if you have not deviated from the code by any previously applied standard of judgment.

  The leader's act of betraying you of itself makes you guilty. Immediately every other person in the group must disconnect from you without mental reservations.

  The rule of betrayal by the leader alone applies under any group system, including the elective — where the leader's immediate aides are his group.

  As a group grows larger, the leader delegates his betrayal rights to unevenly qualified persons who act in his name. Where this process of delegation continues and expands, there are alleviations because not every subleader is as sensitive to the danger of nonconformism as the leader is.

  But the leader who can read minds and who utilizes the betrayal cycle through a remorseless police-control method can remain leader ... forever.

  Thus, betrayal consistently applied, wins at all levels; and the highest level is ...

  For Cemp, a combination event was occurring. He felt as if someone with whom he was in a kind of total telepathic communication was small. So small. Or — a sudden puzzlement struck him — was he, in fact, very large? Incredibly large — larger than the universe? ... The being whose thoughts Cemp was receiving rejected the concept of vastness. It was more comfortable to feel ... small.

  Satisfied that he was a mere point, the being considered what he might become. He thought, and Cemp received the thought along with the awareness, N'Yata will be pleased that I am having this moment of nearultimate reality.

  At his stage of development, he could expect to hold on for only a brief time, aligning what was possible for him, setting up as many of the golden lights as he could in the time available ... Mustn't waste a second.

  One by one the being, himself so small, discharged even tinier bits of the smallness into the dark. Each bit was hard to push away, as if its attachment to him, or consanguinity, prevented it from departing to any distance. The first few yards were tremendously hard, the first miles hard, the first light-years progressively easier, the distance of a galaxy like wafting a feather into a whirlwind. And the dark light-years beyond seemed almost barrierless.

  Suddenly, one of the points he had thus put out attracted the being's attention. He thought, No, oh, no, I mustn't.

  What he fought, then, was a surge of interest within himself in that point. He tried to tell himself the truth — that it was he who had put out the point and it was he who was projecting the interest into it. That it had no interest of its
own.

  But a curious inversion was taking place — The conviction that the point was of itself interesting, That there was something attractive there, separate from his thought about it.

  As he had that awareness, Cemp sensed that the creature's high, pure energy began to drop. Rapidly, it seemed — over how long a period, he didn't know — the being suffered an emotional transformation from a kind of radiance to an ... oh, well-boredom, through a momentary flash of rage to the self-delusion of, I am probably god, or at least a sub god. So everything must align with me.

  He was back, the creature thought sardonically, to the level of betrayal.

  Well, it was good while it lasted.

  As he had that awareness, be was already at the other point, the one that had so automatically aroused his interest. Every instant that these remarkable events occurred, Cemp was fighting and observing, by means of another aspect of his awareness, a life-and-death battle that had no meaning.

  No one was fighting him.

  Like a man who falls through an unnoticed manhole into a drainage pipe of deep, dirty, swirling water; like a child grabbing at and abruptly caught by the surging power of a live wire; like someone who puts his foot into a noose, sets off a trigger, and is jerked a hundred feet above ground as a bent tree springs back into position — Cemp had moved himself into a cosmic equivalent of the slipstream of a rocket.

  He was instantly beyond his ability to cope ... struggling with a natural force that transcended his experience. It was a basic condition of space, the existence of which had never been suspected by man or Silkie.

  Cemp put up his barriers, drew energy from the trapship, replenished what was being suctioned from him.

  The golden dot winked out.

  And Cemp grew aware that he was in a large room. Several human beings, who were sitting before an enormous instrument bank, turned and looked at him in amazement.

  As Cemp recognised top personnel of the Silkie Authority, Charley Baxter leaped from his chair and came loping across the distances of the thick carpet.

  Another realisation forced itself upon Cemp — his Silkie body felt unstable in a unique fashion. It was not unpleasant; the sensation was as if some part of him were aware of a distant place.

  The alarmed thought came, I'm still connected to another location. I could be snatched out of here any moment.

  And what was alarming about that was, he had no further defense. Except for one small delaying idea, he had used up his available possibilities.

  Accordingly, the real crisis was upon him, unless — Cemp transformed to human.

  Doing so was not a well-considered act. He had the thought that a change of structure might free him even a little from that remote ... connection. Because it was his only remaining possibility, he made the change at once and, in his haste, half-fell, half-slid to the floor.

  The transition, he noted with relief, seemed to have worked. The feeling of being connected faded to a shadowy thing. It was still there but like a whisper in a room where someone had been yelling moments before.

  As Charley Baxter came up, Cemp called out to him, 'Quick!

  Let's get to the computer. I don't know what happened. I should be read.'

  On the way, someone slipped Cemp a robe. He donned it over his naked body without pausing.

  There was a little conversation, tense, staccato. Baxter asked, 'What seemed to happen?'

  'I gained some time,' replied Cemp.

  As he explained it, it was of course much more than that. Instead of being instantly defeated, he had manipulated and confused the enemy. Confronted by a superior being, he had used what ability and capacity he had. Now, he desperately needed help, some kind of understanding about the fantastic thing he had experienced.

  Baxter asked anxiously, 'How much time do you think we have?'

  Cemp replied, 'I have an impression that they're working at top speed. So an hour — no more.'

  In its swift, electronic way — yet slowly for the urgency Cemp felt — the computer made its study of him and came up with its four alternative answers.

  The first of the two that mattered — number three — was strange indeed. 'I have the impression,' said the computer, 'that everything that happened was occurring in someone's mind. Yet there is an impression of something ultimate in that concept. Something ... well, I don't know ... really basic to all things.'

  And of course, that was hard to accept. Ultimate — basic — was too great.

  Ultimate, axiomatically, could not be fought or resisted by something less.

  'And that,' said the computer, 'is really all I can tell you. The manipulations of space, of which the Nijjans seem to be capable, are new. It would seem as if the cells in their systems had to adjust to conditions that give them an advantage over other life forms; some kind of greater control over the essence of things.'

  It was a bad moment. For even as the computer reported failure, Cemp sensed an internal change for the worse. The something out there was adjusting to his human body. He had a sudden conviction that at any moment a threshold point would be crossed.

  Hastily, he reported the sensation to Baxter and finished, 'I was hoping we'd have time for me to visit the Earth headquarters of the original Silkies, but I'd better go Silkie myself right now.'

  Charley Baxter's reply showed his awareness of Cemp's danger — the possibility that Cemp might find himself in some far vacuum of space in his unprotected human body. Baxter asked anxiously, 'Didn't you transform to human because as a Silkie you were even more vulnerable to whatever is pulling at you?'

  It was true. But there was no alternative. As a Silkie he would, temporarily, at least, be safer in a dangerous environment.

  Baxter went on, and his voice held a note of strain, 'Nat, why don't you change to some other form?'

  Cemp turned and stared at him. And then for a space the two of them were silent. They stood there in that plush room. with its cushioned chairs and its small mechanical protrusions — which was all that was visible of the giant computer. Stood there, but finally Cemp said, 'Charley, the consequences of what you suggested are an unknown factor.'

  Baxter said earnestly, 'Nat, if we can't trust you to work it out, then it's an unsolvable problem anyway.'

  The sensation of imminent change was stronger. But still Cemp temporised. what Baxter suggested was almost as world-shaking as the Nijjan threat.

  Transform — to anything!

  To any body. To any form. Be something entirely different from the three bodies he knew so well.

  He believed what Charley had said was a truth. But it was a truth in relation to a known past — the human-Silkie situation that he had grown up with. It was not a truth to someone who didn't have that background. The meteorite 'original' Silkie Ou-Dan had made that crystal clear.

  Cemp had the strangest conviction of his entire life — that he was like a man poised in pitch darkness on some edge, preparing to jump into the night ahead and below.

  It would, of course, be a limited jump. At the moment there were only about three alien changes he could make. He could become a Kibmadine or the creature to which the Kibmadine had changed ... or a Nijjan.

  He explained to Charley, 'You have to have a mental picture to go by, have to have "seen" the other being first; and I have only a few.'

  'Change to Nijjan!' urged Baxter.

  Cemp said, almost blankly, 'Are you serious?'

  And then, because he had an internal sensation as of something beginning to slip away from him — it was a very distinct impression — he hastily played the Nijjan image, as he had recorded it; 'played' it through the transmorpha system.

  As he did so, each of his cells received a uniform simultaneous charge of energy that acted like the explosion of the cap of a cartridge, releasing the pent-up energy in the cell.

  The transformation was as rapid as it was because the chemical energies thus released needed instantaneous unions with their chemical counterparts.

  Aga
in, it was one of those situations where, by theory, the entire process should have required a second or less. In actual fact, of course, living cells were slow to adjust. So it was exactly five and a half seconds after the start that Cemp was in his new state.

  He was also, he observed, in a strange place.

  * * *

  XXVII

  CEMP BECAME aware that he was recording the thoughts of the other being again.

  This being — the Nijjan enemy — grew conscious of something to his left.

  He glanced in that direction and saw that N'Yata had moved from her remote center of being into his space.

  It was a movement that he welcomed and admired, since she was at least half a stage above him in development. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have appreciated her coming because it was both flattering to and educational for him. And normally it would have been an ideal opportunity for him to observe and imitate her greater perfection.

  But this was not a normal or ordinary occasion. She had come in response to his need for help, his puzzling failure to deal with Cemp.

  Her thought about this showed in her movement, and he perceived her as a single golden dot the size of an atom. Her smallness and her location to his left he was able to mark by criss-crossing lines of forces.

  Cemp marked it with him, but presently he had a private thought, How am I observing this? And then he realised — with his own energy, automatically evoked from him by an emotion that (the other being's thoughts noted with a wry self-judgment) was still only a few vibrations above betrayal.

  Once again, logic of levels, with all its implicit awareness of the nature of emotion, was Cemp's only possible overt defense. And of course, as before, betrayal was simply not a tactic by which he could decisively defeat anyone.

  Also, he felt intuitively reluctant to trigger the more capable N'Yata to some ultimate level of win.

  With these various restrictions in mind, he directed his one defense against all the destruction implicit in the betrayal emotion. Subtly. Urged her to a slightly gayer meaning of betrayal. Suggested seduction. Argued that the pleasure outweighed negative aspects.