The Players of Null-A

XIV NULL-ABSTRACTS

For the sake of sanity, use QUOTATIONS: For instance, 'conscious' and 'unconscious' mind are useful descriptive terms, but it has yet to be proved that the terms themselves accurately reflect the 'process' level of events. They are maps of a territory about which we can possibly never have exact information. Since Null-A training is for the individuals, the important thing is to be conscious of the 'multiordinal'—that is the many valued—meaning of the words one hears or speaks.

It was late afternoon when Gosseyn returned to Nirene's apartment. The young woman was sitting at the table writing a letter. She laid down her pen when he entered, climbed to her feet, and went over to a big chair. From its depths she gazed at him, her gray eyes steady.

'So we've all got about two months to live,' she said at last.

Gosseyn-Ashargin pretended to be surprised. 'That long?' he said.

He made no further comment. Just what she had heard about the luncheon incident or where she had heard it didn't matter. He felt sorry for her, but her destiny was not yet actually in his hands. When a ruler could order a woman to become the mistress or wife of a stranger because she had paused for half a minute to speak to him, that was a fact that defied normal expectations. She had made the mistake of being born a member of the old nobility, and she existed beside the abyss of Enro's suspicions.

It was Nirene who once more broke the silence. 'What are you going to do now?'

Gosseyn had been asking himself the question, aware that it was greatly complicated by the possibility that at any moment he might be back in his own body.

But suppose he wasn't? Suppose he remained here for several days longer. What then? Was there anything he could do that would be of value now or later to either Ashargin or Gosseyn?

There was Venus. Were any Venusians out in space yet? Did they even know what was going on?

And he really ought to have a look at the Sleeping God. That involved obtaining permission from Secoh.

His mind paused as he came to item number three on his list Train Ashargin. He looked at Nirene.

'I've been driving the prince rather hard,' he said, 'and I think I'd better let him have a rest for about an hour.'

'I'll call you when the time is up,' said Nirene, and her voice was so gentle that Gosseyn glanced at her, startled.

In the bedroom Gosseyn rigged up a wall recorder to repeat a three-minute relaxation, pattern. Then he lay down. During the hour that followed he never quite went to sleep. There was always the voice in the background, the monotone of Ashargin's voice repeating the few phrases over and over.

Lying there, he allowed his mind to idle around the harsher memories of Ashargin's prison years. Each time he came to an incident that had made a profound impression, he talked silently to the younger Ashargin. He made it as real as that, as if the fifteen, sixteen or twenty year old Ashargin heir was in each case a living entity inside him. The older Ashargin talked to the younger at a moment when the latter was undergoing a traumatic experience.

From his greater height of understanding, he assured the younger individual that the affective incident must be looked at from a different angle than that of a frightened youth. Assured him that fear of pain and fear of death were emotions that could be overcome, and that in short the shock incident which bad once affected him so profoundly no longer had any meaning for him. More than that, in future he would have better understanding of such moments, and he would never again be affected in an adverse fashion

It was one more Null-A training make-shift, as had been all the others. But it was a system of self-therapy that was scientifically sound, and which would bring definite benefits.

'Relax,' the voice soothed on. And because of what he was doing, every word meant, 'Relax the tensions of a life time. Let all those past fears and doubts and uncertainties be discharged from the nervous system.'

The effect did not depend on any belief that something would happen, though conviction made it more powerful. But it would take time. There were many suppressed memories that would have to be skillfully brought out in the open, before the therapy could be used on them.

Prince Ashargin was not going to be relaxed in one day.

Nevertheless, by the time Nirene knocked softly on the door, he had had not only the equivalent of an hour's sleep, but a psychoanalytic reorientation that under the circumstances he could have secured in no other way.

He stood up refreshed, feeling himself ready for the evening and the night.

The days stepped by, and the question was, how was he going to find out about Venus?

He had several possibilities. All of them required a hint as to what he wanted to know. Enro might be as quick at seeing the meaning in such a hint as the person to whom it was directed.

That was a risk he could not take until he had exhausted every other means.

At the end of four days, Gosseyn was a badly worried man. He saw himself isolated here in the body of the Ashargin heir, in spite of his so-called freedom of action, prevented from doing the only things that mattered.

Venusian Null-A's alone could stop Enro and the Predictors. That was his assumption, based on his observations and his knowledge of things as they were. But as far as he knew, they were cut off, unable to act. They could be easily destroyed by a dictator who had already ordered hundreds of planets pulverized.

Each day he hoped to be returned to his own body. He tried to help. He used Distorter elevators whenever possible to move from one building to another. Four times in four days he took trips to distant planets and back. But his mind remained in the body of Prince Ashargin.

He waited for a call informing him that the Y-381907 had been contacted. No call came.

What could be happening?

On the fourth day he went personally to the Interplanetary Communications Department. It occupied a building ninety stories high and ten blocks wide. The building information section had one hundred roboperators redirecting calls to the proper sector centers. He identified himself to one of them.

'Oh, yes,' it said. 'Prince Ashargin. We have received instructions about you.'

Gosseyn made his inquiry, turned away and then came back. He was curious about small things. 'What kind of instructions?' he asked.

The answer had the frankness of Enro behind it. The roboperator said, 'You can call anywhere but transcriptions of every conversation must be sent to the Intelligence Center.'

Gosseyn nodded. He could expect no more than that. He took a Distorter cage to the sector center he wanted, and seated himself at the videophone. Presently, he was saying, 'I want to speak to Captain Free, or anyone aboard the Y-381907.'

He could have made the call from Nirene's apartment, but here he could see the Distorter that carried the message. He could watch the contact attempt being made, as the roboperator dialed the pattern which, according to the foot-thick transparent plate that listed destroyers, belonged to the Y-381907.

All this he could see with his own eyes. If it was possible for him to prevent interference in the attempt to contact the destroyer, then this was one of the methods.

Another was to call from a planet visited at random. He had done that twice, without result.

Now, a minute passed. Then two minutes. Still there was no answer. After about four minutes the roboperator said, 'One moment, please.' At the end of ten minutes, the operator's voice came again. 'The following situation exists. When Similarity was raised to the known mechanical limit of twenty-three decimal places, a faint response was achieved. This was, however, an automatic process. It is evident that the pattern at the other end is still partly similarized, but that deterioration is continuous. Clearly, no attempt is being made by those on the ship to hold to the pattern.'

Thank you,' said Gosseyn-Ashargin.

It was hard to imagine that his body was out there somewhere while his reasoning self was here attached to the nervous system of the Ashargin heir.

What could be happening?

On the sixth day, Enro went on the public videophone with a message. He was visibly jubilant, and his voice rang with triumph as he reported:

'I have just been informed by Grand Admiral Paleol, commander of our forces in the Sixth Decant area that the capital city of Tuul was destroyed a few hours ago by our invincible fleet. This is but one of an unending series of victories won by our men and our weapons against a fiercely resisting enemy.

'Fight on, admiral. The hearts of the people and the confidence of your government are with you.'

Tuul? Gosseyn remembered the name with Ashargin's memory. Tuul was the stronghold of the most powerful State of the League group. It was one more planet out of thousands, but the fact that it was labeled 'capital' would be symbolic to the unintegrated minds to whom a map, in a semantic sense, was the territory, and the word the event itself.

Even for Gilbert Gosseyn, the destruction of Tuul was a turning point He dared not wait any longer.

After dinner he invited Nirene to go with him to see Crang and Patricia. 'I hope,' he said pointedly, 'that the Gorgzin and you can find a great deal to talk about.'

She looked at him in momentary surprise, but he did not enlarge on his words. His idea for partially overcoming Enro's gift of clairvoyance could not be openly stated.

Nirene did her best. Gosseyn had no idea what she suspected was going to happen. But at the beginning her voice hardly stopped.

Patricia's answers were halting at first. She looked distinctly taken aback by the machine-gunlike voice that fired at her so steadily. And then suddenly, she must have caught on. She walked over and sat on the edge of Crang's chair, and began to talk back.

Nirene, ten feet away, hesitated, and then came over and sat on Ashargin's lap. The conversation that followed was the most active that Gosseyn had ever heard between two women. There was scarcely a moment during the rest of that evening when his own cautious words were not spoken against the background trill of wifely chatter.

Gosseyn first stated one of his lesser purposes. 'Know anything about training extra brains?' he asked. It was the first time he had mentioned the word to Crang.

The slim man's fine, yellow-tinged eyes studied him thoughtfully. Then he smiled. 'A little. What is it you want to know?'

'It's a problem of time, I think,' said Gosseyn. The first photograph is too slow, somehow. Slower than a chemical photographic plate, and the most complex of electronic tubes are chain lightning compared to it.'

Crang nodded, and said, 'It's notorious that specialized machines can perform any particular function much faster and frequently better than a given human appendage or organ. That is the price of our virtually unlimited adaptability.'

Gosseyn said quickly, 'You think the problem unsolvable?' The other shook his head. 'It's a matter of degree. It's possible the original training followed a wrong pattern, and that a different approach might bring better results.'

Gosseyn knew what Crang meant. A pianist who learned the wrong system of fingering could not become a virtuoso until he laboriously taught himself the proper method. The human brain and body as a whole could be educated to achieve results in many different ways. Some of those ways were heartbreaking in the results they achieved, and some were so remarkable that the ordinary individual who had been properly conditioned came to be regarded as a genius.

The question was, how could his understanding of that general truth be utilized to re-train his extra brain when he returned to his own body?

I would say,' said Crang, 'that it's a matter of setting up correct ideas.'

They talked around that for a while. For the moment Gosseyn was not worried about what Enro might hear. Even if the dictator could tune out the almost upending vibration of sound from Nirene and Patricia, this part of the conversation would not mean anything to him.

He lost none of his caution, but he was preoccupied with a desire to find out what the nature of such an idea would be. Crang made several suggestions, but it seemed to Gosseyn that the non-Aristotelian detective was still striving to estimate the extent of Ashargin's knowledge.

That decided him finally. He turned the conversation to the problem of possession of one mind by another. He pointed out that it might be done by an extra brain, and that the similarization process involved could be a contact on a high level between a full grown extra brain and the vestigial of such a brain present in all human beings. Thus the greater would still come to the lesser.

Crang was watchful. 'What puzzles me,' he said, 'is what would the extra brain be doing while it was in possession of the vestigial? Would it dominate both bodies at the same time, or would the greater be in a state of relaxation?' 'Relaxation, definitely,' said Gosseyn. It was a point he had been wanting to put over, and he was pleased. In spite of handicaps, he had managed to inform Crang that the Gosseyn body was unconscious.

Since Crang already knew that Gosseyn was aboard the Y-381907, his picture of the situation must be clearing up considerably.

'There was a time,' Gosseyn went on, 'when I took it for granted that such a position could only be maintained by some third party enforcing the interchange. It seems hard to believe'—he hesitated—'that the Sleeping God would leave his mind in a body so circumscribed as that of Ashargin if he had a way of preventing it.'

He hoped Crang got the point that Gilbert Gosseyn was not actually in control of his own destiny.

'And, of course,' he went on, 'Ashargin is only a puppet who has now done about as much as he can.' 'I wouldn't say that,' said Crang, deliberately. So abruptly did they arrive at the main purpose of their intent and cautious interchange.

At least, Gosseyn reflected as he eyed the other, it was his main purpose. Crang's position in all this frankly puzzled him. The man seemed to be doing nothing. He had taken the risk—the terrific risk in view of what he had done on Venus—of coming to Enro's headquarters. And now here he sat day after day, doing nothing.

His plan, if he had any, would have to be important indeed to justify his inaction while the battle of the Sixth Decant moved relentlessly to a final decision.

Crang resumed briskly: 'As I see it, Prince, these mystical discussions can only lead so far. There comes a time when men act. Now, Enro is an outstanding example of a man of action. A military genius of the first order. His like will not be seen again in the galaxy for centuries.'

It was strange praise, coming from the lips of Eldred Crang. And since it was false to facts—any Venusian Null-A trained in military tactics could equal Enro's 'genius' —it obviously had a purpose.

He shifted Nirene to a more comfortable position on his lap, and started to settle back.

At that moment he saw the opportunity for himself in what Crang had said. He interposed quickly:

'It seems to me that men like yourself will leave their mark on the military history of the galaxy. It should be interesting to follow the developments, and to know something about them.'

Crang laughed. 'Time will tell,' he said, and changed the subject. He went on, 'It's unfortunate that Enro is not yet recognized as the greatest military genius who ever lived.'

Gosseyn nodded glumly. He recognized that something was coming. But his own question had been evaded. He was positive that Crang had understood what he had tried to say.

And he won't answer, he thought grimly. Well, if he's really got a plan, it had better be good.

'I feel sure,' said Crang, 'that after his death even the people of the League group will recognize and acclaim the consummate skill of the attack that is being launched against the central powers.'

And now Gosseyn saw the plan. 'Greatest ... who had lived.' 'After his death——'

Crang was proposing that an attempt be made to kill Enro.

After a moment Gosseyn was amazed. There was a time when the idea of using Ashargin to kill Enro had seemed the only possible use to which so powerless an individual could be put. All that was changed. The Ashargin heir had already been used to influence billions of people. He was known to be alive. At the proper moment his influence might be decisive.

To sacrifice him now in an attempt to assassinate the dictator was comparable to throwing away a queen in a game of chess. Even at that moment he had thought of it as a sacrifice. Now, with what he knew of Enro, he felt convinced that Ashargin would give up his life futilely.

Besides, the death of Enro would not stop the fleet. Paleol was there, gaunt and grim and determined. Paleol, and his thousands of officers who had put themselves beyond the laws of the League, would seize control of the Government against any group that tried to take over the Greatest Empire.

Of course, if Ashargin were killed while trying to murder Enro, presumably Gilbert Gosseyn would be back in control of his own body. For him, who was still convinced that he would be able to return normally, that was something to consider a week hence. And—just in case—-the plan could be started now. Preparations ought to be made.

Grudgingly, with many reservations, Gosseyn nodded his acceptance of the plot.

That ended the evening. He had expected that details would be discussed, but Crang stood up and said, 'We've had a pleasant and amiable talk. I'm glad you were able to drop in.'

At the door the Null-A detective added, 'You might try to imitate the reflex that makes for good vision.'

It was a possible method of training that had already occurred to Gosseyn. He nodded. 'Good night,' he said curtly.

His impression of the visit as he walked with a silent Nirene back to her apartment was one of intense disappointment

He waited till Nirene was out of the apartment, and then called Madrisol of the League on the videophone.

He waited tensely while the call was put through. For this could be interpreted as treason. He had asked Enro for the right to phone anyone he pleased, but unauthorized individuals did not contact the enemy in time of war. He was wondering how close a watch the Intelligence Department kept on him, when the operator's voice came:

The League secretary agrees to speak to the Prince Ashargin, but only under the condition that it is clearly understood that he is a legal authority speaking to an outlaw.'

Gosseyn saw instantly the legal implications for Ashargin if he accepted such a ruling. He intended to do everything in his power to help the League win this war. If victory did result, then Ashargin would be in a dangerous position.

He felt annoyed, but after a moment he thought of a way out. 'The Prince Ashargin,' he said, 'has imperative reasons for speaking to Madrisol, and therefore accepts the condition but without prejudice.'

He had not long to wait after that. The lean ascetic looking face of Madrisol came into the screen. The man's face seemed even thinner than when he had last seen it with the eyes of Gilbert Gosseyn's body. The League secretary snapped, 'Is this a surrender offer?'

The question was so unrealistic that Gosseyn was pulled from his own purposes. Madrisol continued in a sharp tone, 'You understand there can be no compromise with principle. All individuals in the ruling hierarchy of the Greatest Empire must submit themselves to trial by the League Tribunal.'

A fanatic. In spite of his own complete opposition to Enro, Gosseyn's voice held a note of irony as he said, 'Sir, don't you think you are making a hasty assumption? This is not, nor am I in a position to make, a surrender offer.'

He went on quickly, The reason for my call will probably surprise you. It is of vital importance that you do not refer by name to the matter about which I am going to talk. What I intend to say will presently be reported to Enro, and any indiscretion on your part could have disastrous effects.'

'Yes, yes, go on.'

Gosseyn did not let it go at that. 'Have I your word?' he asked. 'Your word of honour?'

The answer was cold. 'Honour does not enter into any relationship between a League authority and an outlaw. But,' continued Madrisol, 'I shall certainly not make any revelations that would be dangerous to a friendly planet.'

It was the promise he wanted. Yet, now that it had been made, Gosseyn hesitated. Ashargin's memory of entire sun systems being destroyed put a restraint on his tongue.

If Enro made a wild guess as to the planet involved, he could be counted on to act. A single suspicion would be sufficient. At the moment, Venus was an incident to the dictator. As long as it was kept in that status, the Venusians would probably be safe.

Madrisol's voice came impatiently, 'I must ask you to come to the point.'

Once more Gosseyn went over in his mind the words he had prepared—and took the plunge. He explained about the call that Gilbert Gosseyn had made several weeks before to Madrisol, and the request he had made at that time. 'Did you ever do anything about that?'

Madrisol was frowning. I seem to recall the matter vaguely. I believe that one of my technician staff tried to put a call through.'

'What happened?' Tensely.

'Just a second. I'll check to see if the call was actually made.'

'Careful,' cautioned Gosseyn.

Madrisol's lips pressed more tightly together, but he nodded. He came back in less than a minute. 'No,' he said, 'the call has not yet been made.'

Gosseyn stared at the man wordlessly for a moment. He was not absolutely convinced. It was expecting a lot of a man in Madrisol's position to reveal any information to the Prince Ashargin. But he remembered how curt the other had been when he had phoned him up from Venus. And this fitted. How it fitted.

He found his voice. 'I urge you,' he said, 'to establish contact at once—personally.'

He broke the connection, depressed. It was beginning to look as if Crang's desperate plan was not a last resort at all, but the only resort. And yet—no! Paleol would execute every person in the palace, Nirene, Patricia, Crang. . . .

Gosseyn grew calm. No use thinking about such things. Unless some decisive action was taken Nirene and Crang and Ashargin—at least—would die shortly anyway. He must remember the great role that Crang had played on Venus, and trust that the Null-A detective was being as skillful now as he had been then.

He would attempt to kill Enro if Crang advised it.

It required more than an hour to figure out the pattern that he wanted. The actual words took only four and a quarter minutes to say into the recorder.

It was an intricate process that he began then, intricate in the sense that he wanted to set up responses on the unconscious level of the mind, and actually change the reactions of the autonomic nervous system.

What he attempted then was old in human history. The superb legions of Julius Caesar defeated vaster armies of the barbarians because the nervous systems of Roman soldiers had been trained to coordinated fighting. The legions of Caesar would have stood little chance against the armies of the Eastern Roman Empire of the Sixth Century.

There had been only a slight change in weapons, but the training of the men had been improved.

In 1940, the dictator Hitler had trained the nervous systems of his men in a new and different type of mechanical warfare. He was not defeated until superior numbers of men and machines adopted his methods. The machines existed before the blitzkrieg, but the nervous systems of the men who operated them had to be trained to the new integration. When that training was complete, superiority existed automatically.

In the days that followed the fumbled peace of World War II, more and more people began to accept the conclusions which the new science of General Semantics was laboriously deriving from the mass of available evidence. One of these conclusions was, 'The human nervous system is uniquely capable of unlimited training, but the method is the determining factor.'

Gosseyn's—and Crang's—idea was based on a principle of vision. A relaxed eye sees best. The normal eye remains relaxed when it shifts steadily. When, for any reason, an eye capable of good vision begins to stare, the image blurs. Unlike a camera, the eye sees clearly only on the instant following the relaxing shift.

It seemed to Gosseyn that if he could, while in Ashargin's body—while he was waiting—-discover an automatic way for his extra brain to relax, then he would attain a quicker and sharper 'photograph' for similarity purposes. How could an extra brain be relaxed? An obvious approach would be the associative relaxation of the surrounding tissue.

So he set about relaxing the blood vessels of the cortex, the thalamus, and the sub-cortex—where the embryo extra brain of Ashargin would be located.

By association, all the cells around the blood vessels would automatically relax, also. That was the theory, and it had been proven many times.

Each time the voice on the recorder made the suggestion, he imitated the method he used with his extra brain in his own body to obtain a 'memorized' area. Two hours went by. He reached the point where he could follow the pattern and think of other things.

'Relax—look . . . relax—look . . .' The assassination plan would have to be very carefully worked out if it were true that Enro had guards watching him from peepholes in the walls. 'Relax—look ... relax—look . . . relax—look . . .' There were several possibilities, of course. Since Ashargin was supposed to make the attack, the whole of the prince's position

had to be considered. Suppose that both Ashargin and Gosseyn were dead a week hence, would that revive automatically the nearest Gosseyn replacement body, in this case the Sleeping God of Gorgzid?

'Relax—look . . . relax—look . . .' If it were the latter, then Gosseyn could see merits in the plan. He tried to imagine the effect if the Sleeping God should rise up to confront Enro and Secoh. 'Relax—look ... relax—look ... relax—look ...' It seemed to Gosseyn that there was one preliminary which he must take care of personally.

If the sequence of events actually followed the pattern he had pictured, then he must make an investigation. He was assuming that the Sleeping God was a Gosseyn body.

That would have to be checked.

Enro did not turn up for lunch. Secoh, who arrived late, explained, 'He has gone to see Admiral Paleol.'

Gosseyn studied the priest as he settled himself at the table.

At forty, the other's face was marked with an intricacy of the passions that had impelled him to strive for the great rank he held. But there was more than that. After the way Secoh had talked to Enro on the day the lie detector was used on Ashargin, it seemed probable that the lord guardian was a man who believed what he taught.

Was this the moment to broach the subject of an interview? Gosseyn decided that it was. How should he bring the matter up? His method, when he finally spoke, was frankness. When he had finished, Secoh stared at him thoughtfully.

Twice, he parted his lips to speak. Twice, he stirred in his chair as if he intended to get up and leave. At last, he said mildly, 'The privilege of seeing the Sleeping God is granted only to members of the Order.'

'Exactly,' said Gosseyn.

Secoh looked startled, and Gosseyn hoped that there was a picture in his mind of what it would mean to have it publicly known that the Ashargin heir was a convert to the pagan religion that he cherished. Did he have a vision of an entire galaxy worshipping before the videophone image of the crypt of the Sleeping God? Gosseyn hoped so.

Secoh put down his fork and knife, and placed his hands on the table. They were slim and delicate looking hands, but there was firmness in them, also. He said at last in a kindly voice:

'My boy, I don't wish to discourage you. Your position is an anomalous one. I would be happy to personally give you the lower order instruction, and by an extension of my discretionary powers I think that could be made to include the Ceremony of the Beholding.'

So that was what it was called.

'I must warn you, however,' Secoh went on; 'the usual protection assured novices and initiates would not be accorded to you. We are in process of creating a universal state and our great leader has found it necessary to make hard decisions regarding individuals.'

He stood up. 'Tomorrow morning,' he said, 'be ready at six to go to the Temple. In view of your claims last week to be possessed, it had been my intention to take you into the presence of the Sleeping God. I am curious to know whether or not there will be an omen.'

He turned and walked away from the table, and out of the room.

In Gosseyn's case, the lower order instruction was part of the Ceremony of the Beholding. It was a history of the Sleeping God, and fascinating in its own way after the manner of folk tales.

The Temple of the Mound had existed before men were on Gorgzid. In the misty past, after he had created the universe, the god had chosen the planet Gorgzid for his resting place.

There, guarded by his chosen people, he slept from his arduous labors. A day would come when, waking at last from his brief slumber—brief in the cosmic sense—he would rise and carry on his work.

To his people of Gorgzid had been given the task of making the world ready for his awakening. On that bright day he would want a universe united.

As the rites proceeded, and the picture unfolded, Gosseyn realized many things for the first time. This was the justification for Enro's conquests. If you accepted the initial assumptions, then all the rest followed.

Gosseyn was shocked. He was making an assumption of his own, that this was a Gosseyn body. If such was the madness that built up around Gosseyn bodies, then he who was immortal by means of a series of such bodies, would have to reconsider the whole problem of his immortality.

It was about nine o'clock when he was dressed in a long white robe, and the Parade of the Beholding began. It was a curious route they took, down steps that fitted into a curved metal wall. They came to a depth in which was an atomic pile drive—and Gosseyn had his second shock.

A spaceship! The Temple of the Mound was a ball-like spaceship buried in the soil drift of centuries, perhaps for thousands of years.

They were climbing now, up the opposite curved wall. They came to the central floor, and turned into a room that hummed with the faint undercurrents of sounds. Gosseyn suspected the presence of many machines, but he didn't have his extra brain to verify the suspicion. The far wall curved into the room. From each corner arched a columned pylon. The four curved pilasters ended on a narrow buttress about twenty feet out from where the wall should have been.

It could have been the head of a coffin. The inner wall was translucent and glowed with an all-pervading light. Little steps led from it to the top of the buttress. Secoh climbed one of the staircases, and motioned to Gosseyn to climb the one that led up from the other side. As he reached the top, a panel slid open in the upper portion of the crypt.

'Kneel,' said Secoh sonorously, 'and behold!'

From the kneeling position Gosseyn could see the shoulders, part of the arms and chest, and the head of the man who lay inside. The face was lean and very lax, the lips slightly parted. It was the face of a man of about forty. The head was large and the face had a strangely blank look. It was a good-looking countenance, but only because of its symmetry and line of cheek and bone. It was the face of a moron. There was not even a faint resemblance to Gilbert Gosseyn.

The Sleeping God of Gorgzid was a stranger.

They arrived back at the palace in time for lunch, and at first Gosseyn did not realize that the great crisis was upon him.

There were two guests in the salon in addition to Enro, Patricia, Crang and Nirene—altogether eight people at the table. The visitors wore uniforms complete with the insignia of the rank of marshal. The conversation at the table was dominated by Enro and the two military men.

Their conversation had to do with a Board of Inquiry that had investigated what was called a revolution. Gosseyn gathered that the revolution had been successful for reasons that were still obscure. The two officers were the Board.

He watched them curiously. They both seemed, in their manners and expressions, ruthless men. Before they announced their recommendations, he decided that two such coldly intellectual individuals would inevitably solve any such problem by recommending the destruction of the rebel planets.

He glanced at Crang and saw that the Null-A detective was impassive, but that, beside him, Patricia was showing signs of agitation. He realized that there must have been mention of the Board's work before his arrival in the salon. The two of them were definitely interested in what was going on. Abruptly, Patricia broke into the conversation.

'Gentlemen,' she said sharply, 'I sincerely hope that you have not chosen the easy way out in coming to your decision.'

The two officers turned and glanced at her, and then, as of one accord, looked questioningly at Enro. The Gorgzid studied his sister's face, a faint smile on his lips.

'You may be sure,' he said suavely, 'that Marshals Rour and Ugell will have considered only the evidence.'

'Naturally,' nodded Rour. Ugell merely gazed at Patricia with his ice-blue eyes.

I want to hear the recommendations,' said Patricia curtly, 'before I make up my mind as to that.'

The faint smile remained unchanged on Enro's face. He was enjoying himself. 'I seem to remember a rumor,' he said, 'that my sister once took a special interest in the system under discussion.'

To Gosseyn the realization of the truth had come many seconds before. Venus! This was the Board of Inquiry that had been appointed to investigate the defeat of Thorson in the solar system.

'Well, gentlemen,' said Enro amiably, 'I see that we are all interested in hearing what you have to say.'

Ugell took a paper from an inner pocket, and put on a pair of glasses. He looked up. 'Are you interested in the reasons for our decision?'

'Most certainly,' said Enro. 'What I want to know is, what happened? How did Thorson, one of the great trouble shooters of the empire, fail on a mission that was to be a mere incident in his career?'

Rour was silent. Ugell said, 'Your excellency, we questioned more than a thousand officers and men. Their stories made the following picture. Our armies successfully captured the cities of the rebels. Then, on the death of Marshal Thorson, the new commander ordered that Venus be abandoned. Naturally, these orders were carried out. So you see it is no disgrace to our armies, but the action of one man for reasons which we have not been able to discover.'

The picture was reasonably accurate. It failed to mention that Venusian Null-As had successfully defended their planet against the attacking forces. The investigation had not ferreted out the role that Gilbert Gosseyn had played in the death of Thorson, but, still, the facts that had been discovered were a part of the reality.

Enro was frowning. 'Was Thorson murdered by his successor?' he asked.

'There is no evidence pointing in that direction,' said Rour, as Ugell failed to answer. 'Marshal Thorson was killed during an attack which he personally led against a rebel stronghold on the planet, Earth.'

Enro exploded into anger. 'The incredible fool,' he said savagely. 'What was he doing leading any force in person?' With an effort the dictator controlled himself. 'However, gentlemen, I am very glad to have heard this account. It fits in with some information which I already have, and with some theories of mine. At the moment I am troubled in my own palace here by people who are foolishly plotting against my life, and so I should like you to give me the name of the officer who succeeded Thorson as commander of our forces on Venus.'

Ugell read from the paper: 'His name is Eldred Crang. We have been unable to find any trace of this traitor.'

Enro stared straight ahead. 'And, gentlemen, what are your recommendations?' Ugell read in a monotone, That the habitable parts of the system be sprayed with any one-year radioactive isotope that is available in the region, and that the system be rendered uninhabitable.'

He looked up. 'Marshal Rour is rather taken with a new idea that a young woman psychologist has been urging upon him recently. That is, that some planet be populated solely with criminally insane people. It seemed to us, though this notion was not incorporated in the text of our findings that it might be an interesting experiment to carry out as soon as the planets in question become habitable again.'

He handed the document to Enro, who took it without a word. There was a pause while he read it.

So Enro had known all the time. That was the thought that Gosseyn held in his mind. Their silly little plot—which had never really got beyond the embryo stage—had probably amused him even as he pondered the most devastating answer he could make to all their hopes.

It seemed clear, also, that he had known for some days who Eldred Crang was.

Enro was passing the document to Patricia. Without looking at it, she started to tear it up.

'That, gentlemen, is what I think of your recommendations.'

She climbed to her feet. Her face was colorless. 'It's just about time, Enro,' she said, 'that you and your executioners stop this mad murder of every one who has the courage to oppose you. The people of the planets Venus and Earth are harmless.'

'Harmless?' said Rour involuntarily. 'If they're so harmless, how is it that they were able to defeat our armies?'

She turned on him, her blue eyes flashing. 'Your report has stated—just now—that there was no defeat. That the action to retreat was taken at the command of the officer who succeeded Thorson.'

She leaned towards him. 'Is it possible that you are trying to cover up a defeat for our forces by a false statement, an appeal to the vanity of my brother?'

She was beside herself, in a thalamic fury. With a gesture she waved aside his effort to speak, and answered her own question.

'Never mind,' she said, 'your facts are reasonably accurate. I'll vouch for them. Because I gave the order to the officer who succeeded Thorson. He had no recourse but to obey the sister of his ruler. He sits here beside me as my husband.'

'His price was high,' sneered Enro.

He turned to the military men. 'Gentlemen, I have known for several days the identity of Eldred Crang. I am unable to act against him as a traitor because here on Gorgzid my sister's authority is very similar to my own, and I am bound by my religious faith to uphold her rights. I am trying to persuade the lord guardian to . . . uh . . . grant her a divorce, and he has taken the request under advisement'

The words were earnestly spoken. It was hard to believe that behind the apparent logic and integrity of them was Enro's determination to use that religion to compel his sister to follow the ancient Gorgzid custom of brother-sister marriage. And that all the rest was fabrication.

Patricia was speaking again, earnestly. 'The people of the solar system have developed an educational system of the highest order, a culture which I should like to see modeled throughout the galaxy.'

She turned to look down at her brother. 'Enro,' she said, 'there can be no point in destroying a system which had devoted itself to education. If at any time it should be necessary to take over those planets, it could probably be done without bloodshed.'

Enro laughed. ‘An educational system, eh?' He shrugged cynically. 'Secoh will be only too happy to tell you the plans the Temples have for subjugated planets.'

He turned to the marshals and there was a savage note in his voice as he said: 'Gentlemen, I must apologize for my sister's ill-tempered rudeness. She has a tendency to forget that her rule as Gorgzin does not extend beyond the planetary system where she and I are joint heirs. In ordering Lieutenant General Crang to withdraw our forces from Venus, she forgot that the Greatest Empire is a private achievement of my own. In marrying him, and permitting him and'—he hesitated, and glared for an instant at Gosseyn-Ashargin—'other upstarts to plan against me under her protection, she forfeited any right which she might have had to appeal to the softer side of my nature.'

His teeth snapped decisively. He said grimly: 'You may be sure that I do not appoint Boards of Inquiry, and then ignore their recommendations. And, as a precaution, to insure that the Gorgzin does not place herself in jeopardy by going to Venus, I shall immediately issue an order that no galactic Distorters can be used by her until after the destruction of the population of the solar system has been carried out as recommended. Thank you, gentlemen. You have my best wishes.'

Gosseyn noticed that the negating order did not extend to Prince Ashargin. He said nothing, but immediately the meal was over, he headed for the public Distorter system of the palace. He didn't know if it was possible to go to Venus in a Distorter cage; by ship, yes, but he couldn't get hold of a ship —and so his only recourse was to make the attempt.

He took the torn segments of the Venusian report from his pocket and quickly pieced them together. He still had to admire the way Crang had removed them from Patricia's plate, studied them briefly, and then casually passed them on to Ashargin.

The galactic co-ordinates of the position in space of Sol were printed right across the top of page one. He read, Decant Eight, r36,400 theta 272º Z1800—-

Thirty-six thousand, four hundred light-years from the galactic axis, at an angle of 272° from the standard line —which was based on some remote galaxy—and eighteen hundred light-years on the minus side of the galactic plane. And his very first task must be to get to Decant Eight.

As he pulled the lever in the cage, Gosseyn felt the change. Felt himself return to his own body—free of Ashargin.

He wakened in the swift fashion of the change, sat up abruptly, and then lay back with a groan as every stiff muscle in his body shrieked in protest against the sharp movement.

There was a feminine exclamation from near the bed, Leej came into the line of vision of his smarting eyes.

'You're awake,' she said, and her voice was little more than a whisper. 'I thought something was going to happen, but I couldn't be sure.'

Tears came into her eyes. 'I've got to tell you,' she said. 'We're cut off. Something has happened to the Distorter system. The ship is marooned. Captain Free says it will take us five hundred years to get to the nearest base.'

The mystery of the lost destroyer, Y-381907, was explained.