The Players of Null-A

XXII NULL-ABSTRACTS

General semantics is a discipline, and not a philosophy. Any number of new Null-A oriented philosophies are possible, just as any number of geometrical systems can be developed. Possibly, the most important requirement of our civilization is the development of a Null-A oriented political economy. It can be stated categorically that no such system has yet been developed. The field is wide open for bold and imaginative men and women to create a system that will free mankind of war, poverty and tension. To do this it will be necessary to take control of the world away from people who identify.

Secoh decided to make a pageant of it. In three hours, lines of planes, loaded with troops and priests from the capital, dotted the sky on the route over the mountain to the Temple of the Sleeping God.

Gosseyn-Ashargin had hoped that they would make the journey through the Distorter in Crang's and Patricia's apartment. But when that didn't happen, he requested that Crang be in the same machine as he himself.

They sat down together.

There were many things Gosseyn wanted to know. He assumed, however, that there might be listening devices. So he began gravely, 'I have only gradually realized the nature of the friendship between yourself and the Lord Guardian.'

Crang nodded, and said with equal wariness, 'I am honored by his confidence.'

To Gosseyn, the fascinating aspect of the relationship so suddenly revealed was that Crang had, four years before, unerringly chosen Secoh instead of Enro as the person to whom he should attach himself.

The conversation went on in that polite fashion, but gradually Gosseyn obtained the information he wanted. It was an amazing picture of a Null-A Venusian detective, who had secretly gone out to space from Venus to discover the nature of the threat against Null-A.

It was Secoh, as Enro's adviser, who had put Crang in charge of the secret Enro base on Venus. Why? So that the Gorgzin Reesha would be beyond the reach of her brother's determination to make her his wife.

At that point Gosseyn had a sudden memory of Enro accusing Secoh. 'You always were taken with her!' the dictator had said.

He had a vision then of a work priest aspiring to the hand of the highest lady on the planet. And because such emotions became set on the unconscious level, all his triumphs since then meant nothing beside the potent early love feeling.

Another phrase of Crang's brought him a vivid picture of how the marriage of Crang and Patricia had been presented to Secoh as not a true marriage, but as another protection for her. They were saving her for the day when the Follower could claim her for his own.

A subsequent statement of Crang's made later, and seeming to have no connection with what had gone before, justified the dangerous deception. 'When a person has put away the fear of death,' the detective said quietly, 'he is free of petty fears and petty tribulations. Only those who want life under any conditions suffer bad conditions.'

Clearly, if the worst came to the Worst, Mr. and Mrs. Eldred Crang would take death.

But why the attack driving out Enro? The explanation for that required even more caution in the telling. But the answer was dazzling. It was important that the dictator be put in a frame of mind where he would consider, or even initiate, negotiations for ending the war. Enro, driven from his home planet, his sister in the control of his enemy, would have a reason for making outside peace, so that he could concentrate on restoring his position in his own empire.

The amazing Crang had actually found a way that might end the war.

Crang was hesitating. And there was the faintest note of anxiety in his voice as he added carefully: 'It will be a great privilege to be present at the temple on so great an occasion, but isn't it possible that some of those who will be there are so delicately balanced emotionally that the very nearness of their god will upset them?'

'I'm sure,' said Gosseyn-Ashargin firmly, 'that the Sleeping God will personally insure that everything will take place as it should.'

That was as near as innuendo would take them to his plan.

Brilliant lights shone from hidden sources. Priests lined each side wall, holding glittering scepters of power and banners of rich cloth. Thus the preliminary ritual ended in the great chamber of the Sleeping God.

At the moment of crisis, Gosseyn-Ashargin put his hand lightly oh the control lever of the Distorter. Before activating it, he took a final look around through the eyes of Ashargin.

He had an inexorable will to action, but he forced himself to examine the environment in which he intended to make his moves.

The guests were clustered near the door. There were priests there, also, headed by Yeladji, the Lord Watcher, arrayed in his gold and silver cloak of office. He had a frown on his plump face, as if he was not altogether happy about what was taking place. But apparently he knew better than to say anything.

The others were equally subdued. There were court functionaries whom Gosseyn-Ashargin knew by sight, and others whom he did not know. And there were Nirene, Patricia and Crang.

They would be in danger if Secoh tried to use energy, but that was a risk that would have to be taken. This was the showdown. Vast issues were at stake, and no danger could be considered too great.

Secoh stood alone in front of the crypt.

He was naked, a humble state which he had decreed years ago for all important ceremonials in the inner chamber, particularly those where robes of office were subsequently bestowed on the honored individual. His body thus revealed was slender but firmly fleshed. His black eyes glowed with a feverish light of expectancy. There seemed little likelihood that he would grow suspicious at this final hour, but Gosseyn decided to take no chances.

'Most noble Lord Guardian,' he began, 'after I have similarized myself from this Distorter to the one near the door, there must be complete silence.'

‘There will be silence,' said Secoh. And he put a threat into the words for everyone present.

'Very well—now!' said Gosseyn-Ashargin. As he spoke he activated the Distorter.

He found himself, as the machine had promised him in the dream, back in the crypt in his own body. He lay quiet, aware of the nearness of the 'god'. Then he directed a thought.

'Machine.'

'Yes?' The answer came swiftly into his brain.

'You indicated that henceforth you and I could communicate at will.'

That is correct. The relationship, having been established, is permanent.'

'You said, also, that the Sleeping God could now be awakened, but that he would die very quickly.'

'Death would come within a few minutes,' was the reply. 'Due to damage to the equipment, the endocrine glands are atrophied, and I have been replacing their functions artificially. The moment the artificial supply is cut off, the brain will begin to deteriorate.'

'Do you think the body would be physically able to respond to my commands?'

'Yes. This body, like all the others, has received a pattern of exercises that were designed to enable it to function when the ship arrived at its destination.'

Gosseyn drew a deep breath, and then he gave his next order. 'Machine, I am going to similarize myself into the storeroom at the rear of this chamber.

'When I do that, put my mind into the body of the Sleeping God.'

At first there was only blankness. It was as if his consciousness had been blotted by an all-absorbing material.

But the pressures driving him were too strong for that state to last long. He had a sense, finally, of time passing swiftly, and that brought his first thought in his new body.

Get up!

No. Not that first. Slide the lid. The lid must come first Action must follow an orderly pattern. Sit up, and slide the lid.

There was a blur of light, and a vague awareness of movement. And then, filling his ears and seeming to echo through his head, a cry of wonder from many throats.

I must have moved. The lid must be sliding. Push harder. Harder.

He was conscious of pushing, and of his heart beating rapidly. His body ached with an all-embracing pain.

Then he stood up. That was a sharper sensation, for there was more vision with it. He saw blurred figures in the mist before him, and a bright room.

Still the pressure to act and move and think faster grew inside him. He thought in anguish, This body has only minutes to live.

He tried to mutter the words he wanted, and to force the stiff larynx to movement. And, because sound like vision is in the mind and not the organ only, he was able presently to form the words that he had planned.

For the first time, then, he wondered how Secoh was taking the awakening of his 'god.'

The effect should already be tremendous. For this was a peculiarly unsound and dangerous religion for a man to have. Like the old idol worship of Earth which it resembled, it Was based upon symbol identification, but unlike its counterparts elsewhere in space and time, it was subject to a special kind of disaster because the 'idol' was a living though unconscious human being.

Such a religion's continued acceptance by individuals depended on the god remaining asleep.

Its temporary acceptance by Secoh, if an awakening should occur, depended on the god taking it for granted that his chief guardian was above reproach.

This awakened god stood up before a throng of notables, pointed an accusing finger straight at Secoh, and said quickly:

'Secoh—traitor—you must die.'

In that instant, the innate will to survival of Secoh's nervous system demanded that he reject his religious belief.

He couldn't do it. It was too deeply ingrained. It was associated with every tension in his body.

He couldn't do it—which meant that he must accept his god's sentence of death without question.

And he couldn't do that.

All his life he had balanced himself precariously like a tightrope walker; only, instead of a balancing pole, he had used words. Now, those words were in conflict with reality. It was as if the man on the rope suddenly lost his pole. He began to sway, wildly. With panic came innumerable dangerous and disturbing related stimuli of the thalamus. Swiftly, thrashing violently, he fell.

Madness.

It was the madness that comes from irresolvable inner conflict. Through all the ages of human existence such conflicts have been set up in the minds of millions of men. Hostility to a father conflicting with the desire for the security of parental protection; attachment to an over-possessive mother conflicting with the need to grow up and become independent; dislike of an employer conflicting with the need to make a living. Always, the first step was unsanity, and then, if the balance became too hard to maintain, escape into the relative security of insanity.

Secoh's first attempt to escape his conflict was physical. His body blurred, and then, to the sound of a faint moan from the spectators, it grew shadowy.

The Follower stood before them.

For Gosseyn, still in control of the untrained nervous system of the 'god,' Secoh's transformation into his Follower shape was expected.

But it was the crisis.

Slowly, he started down the steps. Slowly, because the 'god's' muscles were too stiff to permit swift movement. The exercising they had received within the confined space of the sleeping chamber had opened up vital nerve channels, but only on a limited scale.

Without Gosseyn's knowledge of how it was done, the almost mindless human thing could scarcely have crawled, let alone walk.

Driving him was the ever more desperate realization that he only had minutes—minutes during which the Follower must be defeated.

Down the steps he faltered, and straight toward the wavery shape of blackness.

The strain of watching one's god walk towards one with hostile intent must be a mind-destroying experience. In a very frenzy of terror, the Follower protected himself by the only method at his disposal.

Energy poured from the shadow shape. In a flare of white flame, the god-body dissolved into nothingness. In that instant Secoh became a man who had destroyed his god. No human nervous system trained as his had been could accept so terrible a guilt.

So he forgot it.

He forgot that he had done it. And since that involved forgetting all the related incidents of his life, he forgot those also. His training from early childhood had been for the priesthood. All that had to go, so that the memory of his crime could be utterly banished.

Amnesia is easy for the human nervous system. Under hypnosis it can be induced with almost alarming simplicity. But hypnosis is not necessary. Meet an unpleasant individual, and soon you will not be able to recall his name. Have an unpleasant experience, and it will fade away, fade as a dream fades.

Amnesia is the best method of escaping from reality. But it has several forms, and one at least is devastating. You cannot forget the memory of a lifetime of experience, and remain adult.

There was so much that Secoh had to forget. Down he went, and down and down. To Gosseyn, who had returned to his own body instantly when the 'god' was killed, and who stood watching now from the doorway that led to the back office, what followed was anticipated.

The Follower's shadow shape disappeared, and Secoh was revealed teetering on legs that supported him a few moments only.

He fell limply. Physically, he had only a few feet to go, but mentally his journey continued down. He lay on his side on the floor, and his knees drew up tightly against his chest, his feet pressed against his thighs, and his head flopped loosely. At first he sobbed a little, but quickly he grew silent. When they carried him out on a stretcher, he lay unaware of his surroundings, curled-up and silent and tearless.

A baby that has not yet been born does not cry.