The Players of Null-A

XIII NULL-ABSTRACTS

For the sake of sanity, be careful not to LABEL. Words like Fascist, Communist, Democrat, Republican, Catholic, Jew refer to human beings, who never quite fit any label.

Gosseyn expected to wake up in his own body. Expected it because it had happened on such an occasion the first time. Expected it with such a will to have it so that he felt a pang of disappointment as he looked through the transparent door of the Distorter cage.

For the third time in two weeks, he saw the military control room of Enro's palace.

His disappointment passed swiftly. Here he was, and there was nothing he could do about it. He stepped to the door, and was surprised to see that the room outside the cage was empty. Having failed to get back to his own body, he'd taken it for granted that he would immediately be asked to explain the meaning of the message he'd sent to Captain Free. Well, he was ready for that, also.

He was ready for many things, he decided, as he headed for the great windows at the far end of the room. The windows were bright with sunlight. Morning? he wondered as he looked out. The sun seemed higher in the sky than when he had come to Enro's palace the first time. It was confusing. So many different planets in different parts of the galaxy moving around their suns at different velocities. And then there was the loss of time factor of the so-called instantaneous Distorter transport.

He estimated that it was approximately 9:30 a.m., Gorgzid City time. Too late to have breakfast with Enro and Secoh— not that he was interested. Gosseyn started for the door that led to the outer corridor. He half expected to be told to halt, either by a command from a wall phone or by the appearance of someone with instructions for him. No one stopped him.

He had no illusions about that. Enro, who had a special personal gift for seeing and hearing distant sights and sounds, was not unaware of him. This was a deliberately granted opportunity, a withholding of control rooted in either curiosity or contempt.

The reason made no difference. Whatever it was it gave him a breathing spell free of tension. That was important, to begin with. But even that was unimportant in the long run.

He had a plan, and he intended to force Ashargin to take any and every risk. That included, if necessary, ignoring direct orders from Enro himself.

The corridor door was unlocked, as it had been a week before. A woman carrying a pail was coming along the corridor. Gosseyn closed the door behind him, and beckoned the woman. She trembled, apparently at the sight of the uniform, and she acted as if she was not accustomed to being addressed by officers.

'Yes, sir,' she mumbled. The Lady Nirene's apartment, sir? Two flights down. Her name is on the door of the apartment.'

Nobody stopped him. The girl who answered the door was pretty, and looked intelligent. She frowned at him, then left him standing. He heard her farther inside the apartment hallway call 'Ni, he's here.'

There was a muffled exclamation from inside. And then Nirene appeared in the hallway. 'Well,' she snapped, 'are you coming in? Or are you going to stand there like a nitwit?'

Gosseyn held his silence. He followed her into a tastefully furnished living room, and sat down in the chair to which she motioned him. There was no sign of the other woman. He saw that Nirene was studying him with bleak eyes. She said in a bitter voice, 'Speaking to you carries heavy penalties.'

'Let me reassure you,' said Gosseyn, 'you are in no danger of any indignity from the Prince Ashargin.' He spoke deliberately in the third person. 'He's not a bad sort, actually.'

'I have been ordered,' she said, 'ordered on pain of death.' She was tense.

'You cannot help it if all your advances are refused,' said Gosseyn.

'But then you risk death.'

The prince,' said Gosseyn, 'is being used for a private purpose of Enro. You don't think Enro will leave him alive after he's through with him.'

She was suddenly very pale. 'You dare to talk like that,' she breathed, 'knowing that he might be listening.'

The prince,' said Gosseyn, 'has nothing to lose.'

Her gray eyes were curious—and more. 'You speak of him —as if he is someone else.'

'It's a way of thinking objectively.' He broke off. 'But I had two purposes in coming to see you. The first is a question, which I hope you will answer. I have a theory that no man can subjugate a galactic empire in eleven years,

and that four million hostages held here in Gorgzid indicate tremendous unrest throughout the Greatest Empire. Am I right about that?’

'Why, of course.' Nirene shrugged. 'Enro is quite candid about it. He is playing a game against time, and the game interests him as much as the result itself.'

'It would. But now, question two.' Quickly, he explained Ashargin's position in the palace, and finished, 'Has he yet been assigned an apartment?'

Nirene's eyes were wide and wondering. 'Do you mean to tell me,' she said, 'that you don't really know what has happened?'

Gosseyn did not answer. He was busy relaxing Ashargin, who had suddenly become tense. The young woman stood up, and he saw that she was regarding him in a less unfriendly manner. She pursed her lips, and then looked back with a searching, puzzled gaze.

'Come with me,' she said. She walked swiftly to a door that opened on to another corridor. She passed through a second door at the far end, and stepped aside for him to enter. Gosseyn saw that it was a bedroom.

'Our room,' she said. Once again the tone was in her voice, and her eyes watched him questioningly. She shook her head finally. 'You really don't know, do you? Very well, I'll tell you.'

She paused, and tensed a little, as if putting the fact into words gave it a sharper reality, then: 'You and I were married this morning under a special decree issued by Secoh. I was officially notified a few minutes ago.'

Having spoken the words, she slipped past him, and was gone along the corridor.

Gosseyn closed the door after her and locked it. How much time he had he didn't know, but if the Ashargin body was ever to be reorientated, then moments like this must be utilized.

His plan was very simple. He would remain in the room until Enro ordered him to do some specific thing. Then he would disobey the order.

He could feel Ashargin quivering at the deadliness of such an idea. But Gosseyn held out against the weakness, and thought consciously for the benefit of the other's nervous system, Prince, every time you take a positive action on the basis of a high-level consideration, you establish certainties of courage, self-assurance and skills.

All that was oversimplified, of course, but a necessary preliminary to higher level Null-A training.

Gosseyn's first act was to go into the bathroom and turn on the hot water. He set the thermostat, and then, before undressing, went out to the bedroom to look for a mechanical device that would give off a rhythmic sound. He failed to find one.

That was disappointing, but still there were makeshifts that would do. He undressed and, when the tub was full, turned off the faucet, but allowed a steady leak, not too fast and not too slow. He had to force himself to climb into the water. For Ashargin's thin body, it seemed hot to the point of scalding.

At first he breathed gaspingly, but gradually he grew accustomed to the heat, and he settled back and listened to the rhythmic sound of the leak.

Drip, drip, drip, went the faucet. He kept his eyes unblinkingly open, and watched a bright spot on the wall at a point higher than eye level. Drip, drip, drip. Steady sound, like the beat of his heart. Beat, beat, beat—hot, hot, hot, he transposed the meaning. So hot, every muscle was relaxing. Drip —drip—drip. Re-lax, re-lax, re-lax.

There was a time in the history of man on Earth when a drop of water falling rhythmically on a man's forehead had been used to drive him mad. This, of course, was not the head; the position under the faucet would have been uncomfortable. But the principle was the same.

Drip—drip—drip. The Chinese torturers who used that method didn't know that behind it was a great secret, and that the man who went mad did so because he thought he would, because he had been told he would, because he had absolute faith that the system would produce madness.

If his faith had been that it would produce sanity, the effect was just as great in that direction. If his faith had been that it would make a thin, gangling body strong, the rhythm worked equally well in that direction. Drip, drip, drip. Relax, relax, so easy to relax. In hospitals on Earth, when men were brought in taut from emotional or physical ills, the warm bath was the first step in relaxation. But unless other steps were taken, the tension soon returned. Conviction was the vital ingredient, a flexible, empirical sort of conviction which could be readily altered to fit the dynamic world of reality, yet which was essentially indestructible. Gosseyn had it.

Ashargin did not. There were too many unbalanced developments in his weak body. Years of fear had kept his muscles flabby, drained his energy and stunted his growth.

The slow minutes dragged rhythmically by. He felt himself dozing. It was so comfortable, so cozy, to lie in the warm water, in the womb of warm water from which all life had come. Back in the hot seas of the beginning of things, in the bosom of the Great Mother—and drift to the slow, pulsing rhythm of a heartbeat that still quivered with the thrill of new existence.

A knock on the outer door of the bedroom brought him lazily back to awareness of his surroundings. 'Yes?' he called.

'Enro,' came the strained voice of Nirene, 'has just called. He wants you to report to him immediately.'

Gosseyn felt the pang go through Ashargin's body. 'All right,' he said.

'Prince,' said Nirene, and her tone was urgent, 'he was very blunt about it.'

Gosseyn nodded to himself. He felt stimulated, and he could not completely fight off Ashargin's uneasiness. But there was no doubt in his mind as he climbed out of the bathtub.

The moment for him to defy Enro had arrived.

He dressed, nevertheless, without haste, and then left the bedroom. Nirene was waiting in the living room. Gosseyn hesitated at sight of her. He was acutely conscious of Enro's special power of hearing and seeing through solid walls. There was a question he wanted to ask, but not directly.

The solution occurred to him after a moment. 'Have you a palace directory?'

She walked silently to the videophone in one corner, and brought a glowing flexible plate, which she handed him with the explanation: 'Just pull that slide down. Each time it clicks it shows the floor of the person you want, and where his apartment is. There's a list of names on the back. It's automatically kept up to date.'

Gosseyn didn't need the list. He knew what names he wanted. With a quick movement of his hand he slid the lever to Reesha, covering the action as much as possible.

Presumably, Enro could 'see' through a hand as readily as through walls, but there must be some limitation to his gift. Gosseyn decided to depend on speed.

One glance he took, had his information, and then he shifted the lever to the name of Secoh. That, also, required only an instant. He moved the lever casually but swiftly to zero position, and handed the plate back to Nirene.

He felt wonderfully calm and at ease. The Ashargin body was quiescent, accepting the violent positivities that were being forced upon it with an equanimity that promised well for the future.

'Good luck,' he said to Nirene.

He suppressed an Ashargin impulse to tell her where he was going. Not that Enro wouldn't know in a few minutes. But he had the feeling that if he named his destination an attempt would be made to divert him.

Out in the hall, he walked swiftly toward the stairway, climbed one flight of stairs, which brought him within one floor of Enro's apartments. He turned off to the right, and a moment later he was being admitted to the apartment of the woman he had once known as Patricia Hardie. He hoped that Enro would be curious as to what his sister and the Prince Ashargin had to say to each other, and that the curiosity would restrain him from immediate punitive action.

As Gosseyn-Ashargin followed the servant into a large reception room he saw that Eldred Crang was standing at the window. The Venusian Null-A detective turned as the visitor entered, and gazed thoughtfully at him.

There was silence as they looked at each other. It seemed to Gosseyn that he was more interested in seeing Crang than Crang could possibly be in the Prince Ashargin.

He could appreciate Crang's position. Here was a Null-A who had come into the heart of the enemy stronghold, who was pretending—with her connivance—that he was married to the sister of the warlord' of the Greatest Empire, and on that tenuous basis—more tenuous even than he might realize, in view of Enro's belief in brother-sister marriage—was apparently prepared to oppose the dictator's plans.

Just how he would do it was a problem in strategy. But then there were people who might wonder how the Prince Ashargin could ever hope to set himself against the same tyrant. Gosseyn was trying to solve that problem by a bold defiance, based upon a plan that still seemed logical.

He had no doubt that Crang would be equally bold, if necessary—and that he would not have come at all if he had thought his presence would not have some effect.

It was Crang who spoke first. 'You wish to see the Gorgzin Reesha.' He used the feminine of the title of ruler on Enro's home planet.

'Very much.'

Crang said, 'As you possibly know, I am the Gorgzin's husband. I hope you don't mind telling me your business first.'

Gosseyn welcomed it. The sight of Crang had braced him immensely. The non-Aristotelian detective was so skillful an operator that his mere presence on this scene seemed partial proof at least that the situation was not as bad as it seemed.

Crang spoke again. 'What's on your mind, Prince?' he said pleasantly.

Gosseyn launched into a frank account of what had happened to Ashargin. He finished, 'I am determined to raise the level of the prince's position here in the palace. So far he has been treated in an unforgivably debasing fashion. I should like to use the good offices of the Gorgzin to alter the attitude of his excellency.'

Crang nodded thoughtfully. 'I see.' He came away from the window, and motioned Gosseyn-Ashargin into a chair. 'I hadn't really estimated your position in this picture at all,' he said. 'From what I had heard, you were accepting the debasing role which Enro had assigned to you.'

'As you can see,' said Gosseyn, 'and as Enro must be realizing, the prince insists that so long as he is alive he be treated according to his rank.'

'Your use of the third person interests me,' said Crang, 'and I am also interested in the qualifying phrase ‘so long as he is alive.’ If you are able to hold firmly to the implications of that phrase, it seems to me the, uh, prince might obtain redress from the Gorgzid.'

It was approval of a kind. It was cautious and yet unmistakable. It seemed to assume that the dictator might be listening in on the conversation, and so the words were on a high verbal level. Crang hesitated, then went on:

'It is doubtful, however, if my wife could be of much assistance to you as an intermediary. She has taken the position of being absolutely opposed to the war of conquest which her brother is waging.'

That was information indeed, and from the look on Crang's face, Gosseyn realized that the man had imparted it to him deliberately.

'Naturally,' said Crang, 'as her husband, I also oppose the war without qualification.'

Briefly, it was dazzling. Here was their method of boldness, different from his own, yet rooted in the special reality of Patricia's relationship to Enro. Gosseyn grew critical. The method had the same inherent flaws as did the opposition he was developing at this moment. How were they overcoming the flaw? Gosseyn asked the question.

'It seems to me,' he said slowly, that in taking such a stand, you and the Gorgzin have greatly restricted your freedom of action. Or am I wrong?'

'Partly wrong,' said Crang. 'Here in this sun system, my wife's legal rights are almost equal to those of Enro. His excellency is greatly attached to the traditions, the customs and the habits of the people, and so he has made no effort to destroy any of the local institutions.'

It was more information. And it fitted. It fitted his own plan. Gosseyn was about to speak again, when he saw that Crang was looking past his shoulder. He turned, and saw that Patricia Hardie had entered the room. She smiled as her eyes met his.

'I was listening in the next room,' she said. 'I hope you don't mind.'

Gosseyn indicated that he didn't, and there was a pause. He was fascinated. Patricia Hardie, the Gorgzin Reesha of the planet Gorgzid, sister of Enro—the young woman who had once pretended to be the daughter of President Hardie of Earth, and who had later pretended to be the wife of Gilbert Gosseyn—with so great a career of intrigue behind her, she was unquestionably a personality to be reckoned with. And, best of all, she had never to his knowledge wavered in her support of the League and of Null-A.

She was, it seemed to him, becoming more beautiful, not less. She was not quite so tall as Leej, the Predictor woman, but she seemed more lithely built. Her blue eyes had the same imperious expression in them as was in Leej's gray eyes, and both women were equally good looking. But there the resemblance ended.

Patricia glowed with purpose. Perhaps it was a youthful purpose, but the other woman didn't have it. Possibly, he knew what Leej was like, and knew, also, Patricia's career. That could be very important. But Gosseyn thought it was more than that. Leej was a drifter. As long as she had been aware of her future, she had had no reason to be ambitious. And even if she should suddenly acquire a purpose, now that she could no longer depend on her prophetic gift, it would take a long time to change her habits and her basic attitude.

Crang broke the silence. 'Prince,' he said, and his tone was very friendly, 'I think I can clear up your puzzlement as to why you are married to Lady Nirene. My wife, knowing nothing of the conversation of last week, took it for granted that any relationship between Nirene and yourself would be legalized by the church.'

Patricia laughed softly. 'It never occurred to me,' she said, that there were undercurrents in the situation.'

Gosseyn nodded, but he was grim. He assumed that she was aware of Enro's past intentions for her, and that she regarded those intentions lightly. But she was missing additional undercurrents, it seemed to him. Enro must still hope for a legal marriage relationship with his sister, or he would not have tried to prevent her from learning that he regarded the relationship as unimportant where other people were concerned. His about-face gave a sharp insight into both his character and his purposes.

'Your brother,' Gosseyn said aloud, 'is a remarkable man.' He paused. 'I presume he can hear what we're saying here—if he so desires.'

Patricia said, .'My brother's gift has a curious history.' She paused, and Gosseyn, who was looking directly at her, saw from her expression that she intended to give him information. She went on, 'Our parents were either very religious or very clever. They decided that the male Gorgzid heir should spend his first year after birth in the crypt with the Sleeping God. The reaction of the people was hostile in the extreme, and so after three months Enro was removed, awakened, and thereafter his childhood was normal.

'He was about eleven when he began to be able to see and hear things in distant places. Naturally, father and mother immediately considered it a gift from the God himself.'

'What does Enro think?' asked Gosseyn.

He didn't hear her answer. A rash of Ashargin memories flooded into his consciousness about the Sleeping God, bits of things he had learned when he was a slave of the temple.

Every report he had heard was different. Priests were allowed to look at the God at their initiation rites. Not one of them ever saw the thing. The Sleeping God was an old man, a child, a youth of fifteen, a baby—the subsequent accounts had as little relationship as that.

Those details held Gosseyn's mind only flashingly. Whether those who looked were hypnotically deluded, or whether the illusion was mechanical seemed of incidental importance. The aspect of the picture that almost shocked Gosseyn out of his seat was the detail of the Sleeping God's daily existence—he was unconscious, but fed and exercised by a complicated system of machinery. The entire temple hierarchy was organized to keep that machinery running.

The light that broke upon Gosseyn at that moment was dazzling because—this was the way a Gosseyn body would be looked after.

His mind strained at the thought. For many seconds, the idea seemed too fantastic for acceptance. A Gosseyn body here at what was now the headquarters of the Greatest Empire. Here, and protected from harm by all the forces of a powerful pagan religion.

Crang broke the silence. Time for lunch,' he said. 'That's for all of us, I believe. Enro doesn't like to be kept waiting.'

Lunch! Gosseyn estimated that an hour had passed since Enro had ordered him to report. Long enough to set the stage for a crisis.

But lunch itself passed in virtual silence. The dishes were whisked off, and still Enro remained seated, thus holding the others to the table also. For the first time the dictator stared directly at Gosseyn-Ashargin. His gaze was bleak and unfriendly.

'Secoh,' he said, without looking around.

'Yes?' The lord guardian was quick.

'Have the lie detector brought in.' The steely gaze remained fixed upon Gosseyn's eyes. The prince has been asking for an investigation and I am happy to oblige him.'

Considering the circumstances, it was about as true a statement as Enro had made, but Gosseyn would have changed one word in the utterance. He had expected an investigation. And here it was.

Enro did not remain seated. As the lie detector knobs were fastened to Gosseyn-Ashargin's palms, he climbed to his feet and stood looking down at the table. He waved the others to remain in their chairs, and began.

'We have here a very curious situation,' he said. 'One week ago, I had the Prince Ashargin brought to the palace. I was shocked at his appearance and his actions.' His lips twisted. 'Apparently, he suffered from a strong sense of guilt, presumably as a result of his feeling that his family had failed the people of the Greatest Empire. He was nervous, tense, shy, almost tongue-tied and a pitiful spectacle. For more than ten years he had been isolated from interplanetary and local affairs.'

Enro paused, his face serious, his eyes glowing. He continued in the same intense tone.

'Even that first morning he showed one or two flashes of insight and understanding that were not in character. During his week on the flagship of Admiral Paleol, he behaved to some extent as his past history would have led us to expect During his final hour aboard the ship, he changed radically once more and again showed knowledge that was beyond the possibilities of bis position. Among other things, he sent the following message to the destroyer, Y-381907.'

He turned with a quick movement to one of the hovering secretaries, and held out his hand. 'The message,' he said. A sheet of paper was handed to him.

Gosseyn listened as Enro read the message. Every word seemed as incriminating as he had known it was. A dictator, the most powerful warlord in the galaxy, had turned aside from his many duties to give attention to an individual whom he had intended to use as a pawn in his own game.

Whether or not the unseen player who had similarized the mind of Gilbert Gosseyn into the brain of Prince Ashargin had foreseen such a crisis as this didn't matter. Gosseyn might be a pawn himself, subject to being moved at someone else's will, but when he was in charge events happened his way—if he could make them.

Enro was speaking again in his dark voice. 'It did not occur immediately to either Admiral Paleol or myself what mission that ship was on. I will say only this now. We identified the ship finally, and it seems incredible that Prince Ashargin should ever have heard about it. Its mission was secret and important, and though I will not mention the nature of the mission, I can inform the prince that his message was not delivered to the ship.'

Gosseyn refused to accept that. 'The roboperator on the flagship sent the message while I was there,' he said quickly.

The big man shrugged. 'Prince,' he said, 'it was not stopped by us. The message was not acknowledged by the destroyer. We have been unable to contact the Y-381907 for several days, and I am afraid that I shall have to ask you for some very straight answers. The destroyer is being replaced on Yalerta by a battleship, but it will require more than a month of flight for the replacement ship to reach that planet.'

Gosseyn received the two pieces of news with mixed feelings. It was a great victory that no more Predictors would be sent from Yalerta for an entire month. The destroyer was another matter.

'But where could it have gone?' he asked.

He thought of the Follower, and grew tense. After a moment he rejected the more dangerous implications of that idea. It was true, apparently, that the Follower frequently was not able to predict events that were related to Gilbert Gosseyn. Yet that applied only when the extra brain was being used. It seemed reasonable, accordingly, to believe that he knew where Gosseyn was.

Right there that train of logic ended. There was no reason at all why the Follower should suddenly become secretive with Enro as to the whereabouts of the destroyer. Gosseyn gazed up at Enro with unflinching eyes. The time had come to deliver another shock.

'Doesn't the Follower know?' he asked.

Enro had parted his lips to speak again. Now, he brought his teeth together with a click. He stared at Gosseyn with baffled eyes. At last he said:

'So you know about the Follower. That settles it. It's time the lie detector gives us some idea of what goes on in your mind.'

He turned a switch.

There was silence at the table. Even Crang, who had been absently pecking at the food on his plate, stirred in his chair, and laid down his fork. Secoh was frowning thoughtfully. Patricia Hardie watched her brother with a faint curl to her lips. It was she who spoke first.

'Enro, don't be so stupidly melodramatic'

The big man twisted towards her, his eyes narrowed, his face dark with anger. 'Silence,' he said harshly. I need no comments from a person who has disgraced her brother.'

Patricia shrugged, but Secoh said sharply, 'Your excellency, restrain yourself.'

Enro turned toward the priest, and for a moment, so ugly was the expression on his face, it seemed to Gosseyn that he was going to strike the lord guardian.

'Always were interested in her, weren't you?' he said with a sneer.

'Your sister,' said the priest, 'is co-ruler of Gorgzid and of the overlordship of the Sleeping God.'

Enro ran one hand through his red hair, and shook himself like a young lion. 'Sometimes, Secoh,' he said, and the sneer was broader, 'you give the impression that you are the Sleeping God. It's a dangerous illusion.'

The priest said quietly, 'I speak with authority vested in me by the State and the Temple. I can do no less.'

I am the State,' said Enro coldly.

Gosseyn said, 'I seem to remember hearing that one before.'

Neither man seemed aware of his remark. And for the first time it struck him that he was witnessing a major clash. Gosseyn sat up.

'You and I,' said Secoh in a singsong voice, 'hold the cup of life but for a moment. When we have drunk our fill, we shall go down into darkness—and there will still be a State.'

'Ruled by my blood.' Violently.

'Perhaps.' His voice sounded far away. 'Excellency, the fever that has seized on you I shall feed until victory is achieved.'

'And then?'

'You will receive the Temple call.'

Enro parted his lips to say something. Then he closed them again. There was a blank expression on his face, that slowly changed into a comprehending smile.

'Clever, aren't you?' he said. 'So I'll receive the Temple call, will I, to become an initiate. Is there anything significant, possibly, in the fact that you issue the calls?'

The priest said quietly, 'When the Sleeping God disapproves of what I say or do, I'll know.'

The sneer was back on Enro's face. 'Oh, you will, will you? He'll let you know, I suppose, and then you'll tell us?'

Secoh said simply, 'Your thrusts do not reach me, excellency. If I used my position for my own ends, the Sleeping God would not long tolerate such blasphemy.'

Enro hesitated. His face was no longer dark, and it seemed to Gosseyn that the powerful ruler of one-third of the galaxy felt himself on dangerous ground.

He was not surprised. Human beings had a persistent attachment for their own homes. Behind all Enro's achievements, inside the skin of this man whose word was law on nine hundred thousand warships, were all the impulses of the human nervous system.

In him they had become twisted until, in some cases, they were barely recognizable as human. Yet the man had once been a boy, and the boy a baby born on Gorgzid. So strong was the connection that he had brought the capital of the

Greatest Empire to his home planet. Such a man would not lightly insult the pagan religion by the tenets of which he had been reared.

Gosseyn saw that he had read correctly the processes of the other's mind. Enro bowed sardonically to Patricia.

'Sister,' he said, 'I humbly beg your pardon.'

He turned abruptly toward Gosseyn-Ashargin. These two people on the destroyer,' he said. 'Who are they?'

The moment for the test had come.

Gosseyn answered promptly, 'The woman is a Predictor, of no particular importance. The man is called Gilbert Gosseyn.'

He glanced at Patricia and Crang casually as he spoke the name so familiar to them. It was important that they show no sign of recognition.

They took it, it seemed to Gosseyn, very well indeed. They continued intently watching his face, but there was not a trace of surprise in their eyes.

Enro was concentrating on the lie detector. 'Any comments?' he asked.

The pause that followed was of many seconds duration. Finally, cautiously, the detector said, 'The information is correct as far as it goes.'

'How much farther should it go?' Enro asked sharply.

There is confusion,' was the reply.

'Of what?'

'Identity.' The detector seemed to realize the answer was inadequate. It repeated. There is confusion.' It started to say something else, but the sound must have been cut off, for not even the sense of a letter came through.

'Well, I'll be ,' said Enro explosively. He hesitated. 'Is

the confusion in connection with the two people on the destroyer?'

'No,' said the detector briskly. That is'—it sounded uncertain again—'that is, not exactly.' It spoke up with

determination, ‘Your excellency, this man is Ashargin, and yet he isn’t. He ——— ’ It was silent for a moment, then

lamely, 'Next question, please.'

Patricia Hardie giggled. It was an incongruous sound. Enro sent her a terrible glance.

He said savagely, 'What fool brought this faulty detector in here? Bring a replacement at once.'

The second lie detector, when it had been attached, said in answer to Enro's question, 'Yes, this is Ashargin.' It paused. 'That is—he seems to be.' It finished uncertainly, 'There is some confusion.'

There was some confusion now in the dictator, also. This is unheard of,' he said. He braced himself. 'Well, we'll get to the bottom of it.'

He stared at Ashargin. These people on the destroyer—I gather from your message to Captain Free that they are prisoners.'

Gosseyn nodded. That's right'

'And you want them brought here. Why?'

'I thought you might like to question them, said Gosseyn.

Enro looked baffled again. 'I can't see how you expect to use anyone against me once they're here in my power.' He turned to the machine. 'What about that, Detector? Has he been telling the truth?'

'If you mean, does he want them brought here? Yes, he does. As for using them against you—it's all mixed up.'

'In what way?'

'Well, there's a thought about the man on the ship being here already, and there's a thought about the Sleeping God—they all seem to be mixed up somehow with Ashargin.'

'Your excellency,' interposed Secoh, as the astounded Enro stood silent, 'may I ask a question of the Prince Ashargin?'

Enro nodded but said nothing.

'Prince,' said the priest, 'have you any idea as to the nature of this confusion?'

'Yes,' said Gosseyn.

'What is your explanation?'

'I am periodically possessed, dominated, controlled and directed by the Sleeping God.'

And, thought Gosseyn with deep satisfaction, let the lie detectors try to disprove that.

Enro laughed. It was the laughter of a man who has been keyed up and is suddenly confronted with something ridiculous. He sat down at the table, put his face in his palms, his elbows on the table, and laughed. When he looked up finally, there were tears in his eyes.

'So you are the Sleeping God,' he said, 'and now you have taken possession of Ashargin.'

The humor of it struck him anew, and he guffawed for a full half minute before once more controlling himself. This time he glanced at Secoh.

'Lord guardian,' he said, 'how many is this?' He seemed to realize that the question required explanation for the others at the table. He turned to Gosseyn. 'During the course of a year, about a hundred people on this planet alone come forward claiming to be possessed by the Sleeping God. Throughout the Empire about two thousand red-haired men pretend to be Enro the Red, and during the last eleven years approximately ten thousand people have come forward claiming to be Prince Ashargin. About half of these are over fifty years old.'

Gosseyn said, 'What happens when they appear before a lie detector?'

The big man scowled. 'All right,' he said, 'let's have it. How do you do it?'

Gosseyn had expected skepticism. Except for Crang, these were thalamic people. Even Patricia Hardie, friendly though she was to Venus, was not a Null-A. Such individuals would hold contradictory ideas, and even discuss the contradiction, without in any way being influenced by the reality. The important thing was that a seed had been planted. He saw that Enro was scowling.

'Enough of this farce,' said the big man. 'Let's get down to some facts. I admit you fooled me, but I don't see how you expect to gain anything by it. What do you want?'

'An understanding,' said Gosseyn. He spoke cautiously, yet he felt bold and determined. 'As I see it, you want to use me for something. Very well, I'm willing to be used—up to a point. In return, I want freedom of action.'

'Freedom of what?'

Gosseyn's next words took in the other people at the table. 'In launching this war,' he said, 'you endangered the life of every person in the galaxy, including the Greatest Empire. I think you should accept advice from those who will share your fate if anything goes wrong.'

Enro leaned forward, and drew his arm back as if to strike him in the face. He sat like that for a moment, tense, his lips compressed and his eyes bleak. Slowly, he relaxed, and leaned back in his chair. There was a faint smile on his face, as he said, 'Go on, hang yourself!'

Gosseyn said, 'It seems to me that you've concentrated so completely on the offensive part of the war that you have perhaps not taken into account some equally important aspects.'

Enro was shaking his head wonderingly. 'All this,' he said in amazement, 'from someone who has spent the last eleven years in a vegetable garden.'

Gosseyn ignored the comment. He was intent, and it seemed to him that he was making progress. His theory was simplicity itself. The Prince Ashargin had not been brought forward at this critical moment except for the most urgent reasons. He would not be lightly eliminated until the purpose for which he had been resurrected was accomplished,

Besides, this was a good time to obtain information as to just what Enro was doing about certain individuals.

'For instance,' Gosseyn said, 'there is the problem of the Follower.' He paused to let that sink in, then went on. The Follower is a virtually indestructible being. You don't think that, when this war is won, a man like the Follower will allow Enro the Red to dominate the galaxy.'

Enro said grimly, 'I'll take care of the Follower if he ever gets any ideas.'

That's easy to say. He could come into this room at this moment, and kill everybody in it.'

The big man shook his head. He looked amused. 'My friend,' he said, 'you've been listening to the Follower's propaganda. I don't know how he makes that shadow shape of his, but I decided long ago that all the rest was based on normal physics. That means Distorters and, in case of weapons, energy transmission. There are only two Distorters in this building not in my control, and I tolerate them. I defy any one to build machines in my vicinity that I don't know about.'

Gosseyn said, 'Still, he can predict your every move.'

The smile faded from the other's face. 'He can make any prediction he pleases,' he said harshly. 'I have the power. If he tries to interfere with it, he'll quickly find himself in the position of a man who has been sentenced to hang. He knows the exact day and hour, but there is nothing he can do about it.'

Gosseyn said, 'In my opinion you haven't thought that through the way you ought to.'

Enro was silent, his gaze fixed on the table. He looked up finally. 'Anything else?' he said. 'I'm waiting for these conditions you mentioned.'

It was time to get down to business.

Gosseyn could feel the gathering strain on Ashargin's body. He would have liked to ease up a little on the tense nervous system of the prince. He thought of glancing at Crang, Patricia or Secoh to see how they were reacting to the developing situation. It would give Ashargin a moment of relaxation.

He suppressed the impulse. Enro had practically forgotten that there was anyone else present. And it would be unwise to distract his concentrated attention. He said aloud:

'I want to have permission to make a call anywhere in the galaxy at any time of the day or night. Naturally, you can listen in—you or your agent, that is.'

'Naturally,' said Enro sarcastically. 'What else?'

'I want to have the authority to use the Distorter transporter anywhere in the Greatest Empire at will.'

'I'm glad,' said Enro, 'you're restricting your movements to the Empire.' He broke off. 'Continue, please.'

'I want authority to order any equipment I please from the Stores Department.' He added quickly, 'No weapons, of course.'

Enro said, 'I can see that this could go on and on. What do you offer in exchange for these fantastic demands?'

Gosseyn spoke his answer, not to Enro, but to the lie detector. 'You've been listening to all this—have I been speaking frankly so far?'

The tubes flickered ever so faintly. There was a long hesitation. ‘You mean everything up to a point. Beyond that there is confusion involving ——— ' It stopped.

'The Sleeping God?' asked Gosseyn.

'Yes—and then again, no.'

Gosseyn turned to Enro. 'How many revolutions are you fighting,' he asked, 'on planets of the Greatest Empire, where vital war equipment is being manufactured?'

The dictator stared at him sourly. He said finally, 'More than twenty-one hundred.'

'That's only three percent. What are you worried about?' It was a negative statement for bis purposes, but Gosseyn wanted information.

'Some of them,' said Enro frankly, 'are important technologically out of proportion to their numbers,'

That was what he had wanted to hear. Gosseyn said, 'For what I have asked, I'll make radio speeches in support of your attack. Whatever the name of Ashargin is worth in controlling the empire, I place at your disposal. I'll co-operate until further notice. That's what you want of me, isn't it?’

Enro stood up. 'Are you sure,' he said savagely, 'that there isn't anything else you want?'

'One more thing,' said Gosseyn.

'Yes?'

Gosseyn ignored the sneer in the big man's voice. 'It has to do with my wife. She will no longer appear at the royal bathtub.'

There was a long pause. And then a powerful fist smashed down on the table.

'It's a deal,' said Enro, in a ringing voice, 'and I want you to make your first speech this afternoon.'