Hot Sleep (16 page)

JAZZ WAKENED
to see the lid of the coffin sliding back, the amber light winking at the edge of his vision. The memory tape must have just finished, he thought, though of course he had no memory of it happening. His body was hot and sweating — like all somec users, he believed the warmth was caused by the drugs used for waking.

He sat up abruptly, rolled himself over the edge of the coffin, and dropped to the floor in push–up position. Twenty push–ups and thirty sit–ups later, he got to his feet, the blood flowing, feeling refreshed from the long sleep.

Only then did he notice that it was not the amber light flashing in the coffin. It was the red.

He had been reaching into the cupboard for the packet of clothing that would have been prepared by the ship for his waking. But the red flashing light sent him immediately to the control board.

QUERY.

RESPONSE: ENEMY SHIP ROUNDED SIIS III SEVEN MINUTES AGO.

QUERY HOSTILE ACTS.

RESPONSE: Two PROJECTILES LAUNCHED, IMPACT 1.7, IMPACT 3.4.

QUERY ATTACK PATH.

RESPONSE: RANDOM UNPREDICTABLE.

That meant that the enemy pilot was still guiding the projectiles. Jason immediately began searching through space for the enemy captain's mind, even as his fingers automatically sent half of his projectiles — a pitiful two on a virtually unarmed colony ship — and he found, yes, the mind controlling the projectiles. Found in the mind the path the projectiles would follow. And then maneuvered his own ship, just slightly, in a feint. The other captain followed the feint, committed the first projectile, and then when it was too late for the enemy to alter course in time to strike him, Jason shifted again, just enough to keep his ship out of reach.

The second enemy projectile was easier to dodge. And now it was time for the opposite maneuver as Jason controlled his own weapons, seeing in the enemy's mind his evasion plans, countering them just in time each time, until his first projectile made contact with the giant stardrive of the enemy ship, and its image on the holomap became an ever fainter, ever expanding globe.

Just before the contact, Jazz had heard the enemy captain crying out for help, had felt him fumbling with a microphone, had heard in his mind the faintest wisp of a prayer as he realized that contact would be made, and then had heard for an infinitesimal moment the agony of death, and then felt the peace of death, the absence of mind.

Jazz leaned back on the upholstered chair, noticed how cold it felt on his naked, sweating back.

The red light was still flashing. Jazz was puzzled, leaned forward again.

QUERY.

RESPONSE: SECOND ENEMY SHIP, ROUNDED SIIS III FOUR MINUTES AGO.

QUERY HOSTILE ACTS.

RESPONSE: Two PROJECTILES LAUNCHED, IMPACT 0.2, IMPACT 1.9.

Impact 0.2! Jason shouted at himself. And even as his fingers played along the control board and his mind sought the enemy captain's mind, his intellectually unfazeable mind was saying to him, "You fool, he would never have called for help by radio unless he had someone else nearby."

The other mind found; the flight path of the projectile mapped; contact inevitable; and by reflex Jazz did the only possible maneuver that would ensure survival: he swung the starship very slightly — and intercepted the projectile with the payload section of the ship, catching it deftly with the only portion of the ship the weapon could strike without causing a nuclear explosion.

At the same moment, Jazz released his last two projectiles, hoping that there would be no more enemy ships.

And his control room shuddered with the shock of impact. The enemy projectile was not nuclei, of course — on the surface of the stardrive, a nuclear explosion would not penetrate through the shielding. Instead, it was equipped with high intensity fusion–source lasers, and it melted a path ahead of itself for a critical number of seconds. Just long enough, with a few meters to spare, to penetrate the shielding of a stardrive.

Jazz didn't bother to wonder whether the projectile had had to force its way through enough payload that it would run out of fuel before penetrating to the stardrive core. He was too busy moving his ship (the controls still respond, good) to avoid the second enemy missile; and then he immediately shifted his attention to guiding his own projectiles as they homed in on the enemy ship.

He saw the enemy captain's disbelief as he realized that he had made contact — and yet Jason's ship had not exploded. And then the panic as the enemy captain tried to dodge Jason's projectiles, couldn't, and realized horribly that he would die as his fellow captain had just died.

And then the globe of fading light on the holomap.

QUERY.

RESPONSE: No ENEMY ACTIVITY.

QUERY LOCATION.

RESPONSE: SIIS III.

So Jazz had reached his destination; as was often the case, the Enemy had dispatched warships to intercept the colony ship before it could land. Those Enemy craft might have been orbiting Siis in for as much as a century, waking their captains only when Jazz's ship was sensed as it decelerated to subluminous speeds. Traditional pattern, except that there were two ships instead of one.

The tension of battle fading, he remembered how he had stopped the enemy projectile, and felt a horrible burning sensation in his stomach and groin.

He got up from the chair and went to the cupboard, dressed, and then for safety put on a pressure suit with a field helmet. He adjusted it for transparent and semipermeable, and then turned the wheel on the seal lock of the door leading to the back of the payload section.

The storage compartment was completely undamaged — none of the animal coffins had even come loose. Which left only one conclusion: the projectile had entered the payload section in the passenger tubes.

Jazz readjusted for impermeable, and opened the door at the back of the storage section. No rush of air into space — the monitor area was also undamaged.

Jazz looked at the dials that told the condition of all the passengers in each of the tubes. The A section dials were all functioning, and their message was uniform: no life in any of the coffins. The C section was as bad: the dials were all dark, meaning that the life–support system was out.

Only B section was intact, showing no damage. Jazz wasn't sure whether to be horrified at losing two–thirds of his colony, or relieved at still having one–third.

He opened the door to B tube and walked down the rows, inspecting each coffin for damage. There was none that he could detect, not even a shifting of the bodies. Noticing who was still alive also told him who was not. But among the survivors was Hop Noyock, and Jazz felt an unreasonable gladness, as if Hop's survival insured the success of the colony after all.

At the end of the tube was another door, which led to the schoolroom, where all the memory tapes of the colonists were stored, and where at the end of the voyage Jason would waken each of the passengers.

Beside the door a warning light was flashing red.

Jazz punched in the code on the doorbutton that flushed all atmosphere out of the tube. When the green light flashed on, he opened the door and found chaos.

The schoolroom had been directly hit, and from that vantage point he could see the gaping hole left by the projectiles. It had entered near the front of the passenger tubes, cutting a swath between the life–support system of C tube and the coffin racks of A tube, destroying every coffin and every life–support complex on its way down the length of the tubes. Then it had bored through the end, struck the schoolroom, passed right through a corner of the tape rack, and passed on into the shielding in front of the stardrive. Looking down into the hole, Jazz could see the back of the projectile, stopped where it had gone cold, unable to penetrate further. He quickly guessed that two more meters and it would have exploded the ship.

I should feel grateful, he told himself. But when he looked at the tape rack, he couldn't. The left section of the rack, where the projectile had passed, was utterly destroyed — where it wasn't cut away by the projectile's passage, the tapes were melted by the heat. The B section of the rack, in the middle, was also mostly melted. Only a few of the C rack tapes were still usable.

And everybody in C tube was dead.

Jazz knelt down and pulled out every tape in the bottom part of B rack, where the heat was least intense. But tape after tape showed damage — and even the slightest melting made the entire tape unusable. Out of all the tapes, only one was undamaged, the one in the bottom right–hand corner. It belonged to Garol Stipock.

Only one tape.

Which meant that only one single passenger could be revived with his full memory. With any memory at all. Only one that could be revived as an adult human being. If anyone else was revived at all, it would be as empty–minded as an infant, a creature of reflex, unable to walk, speak, even control bodily functions.

Jazz left the schoolroom, clutching the one usable tape, and walked back through B tube. This time as he passed the coffins he didn't see adults whom he knew — he saw huge infants, impossible to care for, utterly cut off from their own life history in the Empire.

Except Garol Stipock. And as Jason looked down at the reposed face of the man who had invented the Stipock geologer and a dozen other devices, he said, "Gadgetry. Gimmicks and games. What a wonderful colony we'll make together. And what wonderful children we'll raise."

He left B tube, sealing the door behind him, and wandered listlessly back into the control cabin. He passed the roster compartment and remembered, bitterly, the two tapes that had been in there, tapes which he had destroyed for a purpose — some purpose — what purpose could possibly compare with the terrible need he had now? He longed for a way to reverse the garbage process, bring back the lost fragments of Hop's and Arran's memory tapes, restore them and waken those two people whom he at least knew. Garol Stipock. Who the hell was Garol Stipock?

A colony of infants.

Here it is, Doon. The perfect society. One you could teach to be anything you wanted. As long as you enjoy changing the diapers of adults who kick like infants with grown–up strength.

He sat down in the control room, and the computer, sensing that he had returned, began readouts on the information that had been kept from him back on Capitol — where the colony ship was supposed to go.

Jazz was past caring, but by reflex he looked, and by reflex he fed back into the computer his confirming orders, his explicit instructions.

Mechanically he carried out his part of the mission, as if there were a mission to perform.

Something was gnawing at his stomach, and it churned within him. But he finished the calculations in only seven hours, and then, exhausted, threw himself on the cot provided for the starpilot.

He dreamed of the Estorian twick, staring at him from a meter away. It just sat and stared, and Jason knew that if he moved, if he made any move at all, the twick would leap, would carve him with its razor teeth, would devour him if it could. How long can I stand without moving, he kept wondering, and the twick only watched, and waited. And then suddenly he heard Doon's voice saying, "You're a survivor. You're a survivor." And then he felt himself swimming in the lake, the twick's body floating beside him, feeling exultant. Survival. That is enough grounds for joy.

He woke needing badly to go to the toilet. He got up, unaccustomedly groggy with sleep. It had not been a restful nap. He closed the toilet stall and showered. Then he stepped out of the toilet and looked at the computer.

The readout board said, "Ready for execute."

Why bother? Jason wondered.

"Why bother?" Jason asked aloud.

But he knew he would bother. He would push the buttons on the computer, and then would climb into his coffin and sleep the years until his new destination. He would waken after 900 years, farther by a dozen times than any starship had ever gone from the human pale. And he would revive, one by one, the huge infants that slept in the back of the ship.

And as he resigned himself to survival, because he really had no other choice, it occurred to him how ignorant his colonists would be. Except for Garol Stipock, they would know only what he told them.

They would have no memory of Capitol, and therefore no memory of any particular system of law or government.

They would not know the technology that would never be possible to them.

They would not remember that they had been arrested as traitors; they would not remember that Jason Worthing had been an enemy to them.

The word Swipe would be meaningless to them.

Except Garol Stipock.

I can make the world the way it ought to be, he thought. A clean slate, Doon. If I can survive the first years, I can make a decent world.

And how ought the world to be? Jason laughed at himself. A chance to make a utopia, and he had no idea where to begin. Well, plenty of time for that later. Plenty of time to work out the details. I have a vision now, at least, Doon. Pat me on the back for that.

Jason Worthing locked the solitary memory tape in the cupboard, punched out the execute code, and climbed into the coffin. He was excited, exultant, and a little mad when the sleep helmet recorded his mind. He would waken with that excitement and madness when the ship woke him a millennium from now.

A needle in his scalp. The hot rush of somec in his veins. The agony, the panic. And then the oblivion.

And the gutted starship turned, fired, and accelerated madly, racing with the light of the star Siis toward another star an unfathomable depth into the broad white lake of the galaxy.

J HAS TOLD
me I must write, though my writing is slow and not always good, and so I write. I am Kapock, and I am called the Eldest of the Ice People, though there is no time when I do not remember the other five who are also the Other Eldest. J is gone now for the first time in memory, and I am Warden, and I am afraid.

J has told me I must write what is most important. Most important to me? I asked J. He said, Most important to Heaven
City
, which is what we call our place where we all live. J has gone up into the Star
Tower
and I cannot ask him what is important, but I will obey him the best I can which is not always good.

J has told me I am writing to my children. I do not understand this, for my children are both very small, and even though one of them can now walk, which he could not do at first, he cannot even speak. Does this mean that J promises that someday my children will not only speak, but also will read? This is a great promise, if it is true, but I am not sure and so I tell it to no one yet. I tell no one that I write.

I live apart from all the others with Sara my wife. This is our way now. When Sara and I chose each other and first coupled we were afraid, for this thing had not been taught to us by J, but rather by the oxen. Nevertheless J was not angry and only said that now we must live apart. He said words that declared us to be married and said that once married a man and a woman must live only together and never with any other man or woman, so that children could be born. This we have done, and it is a good way, for I am happy. And also Sara.

This is the first thing that is important. When I was a man alone I was often afraid and would always ask J before I did anything. Now I ask Sara, and she answers me, but I do not always do what she says. This is not because I do not respect her, but because we do not always agree. Many times I have thought one way and she has thought another way but we have done still another way between the two. This is a good way to decide, and now I do not need to ask J before I do things. I am not alone and I am almost never afraid anymore.

Until now that I am Warden, and I am afraid again, because now I do not decide just the things of a man and a wife, the things of my sheep and my house. Now I must also decide the arguments of the other people, and name the day of planting and plowing and hoeing and reaping and all other days, and this makes me afraid, for only J has decided these things before.

Will the others obey me as they have obeyed J? I do not know, for J is always wise, and I am always foolish and this is known to all the men and women of Heaven
City
. Yet J has told them to obey me, and so they must do it.

But J has also told me to give commandments as he would give them. But I am not wise, and so I cannot obey. Does he not know this? I am afraid.

If I did not have Sara with me I would run from Heaven
City
and build a far house. But Sara has read what I am writing and has told me I am not foolish. Even now she touches my hair and I am not so afraid. I make an end of writing for this time.

Linkeree and the ax.

Now I will tell you of Linkeree and the ax, for Sara says to me all day that this is important, and now I agree with her. J left at the seventh day of the harvest moon, and now it is the third day of the leaf–falling moon. Soon there will be first snow. I remember this from two other winters. Our main work at this time is building a new house for Wien and Miott, who have coupled. Also this is the time for making new thatch to cover the roofs of our wooden houses, and this we also are doing.

Yesterday was the time of walls, and Linkeree is the best at walls. He is also the best at much other things working with wood, and so we listen most to him in the making of houses and other things of wood. Linkeree worked very hard, and the walls were ready with four hours of light left.

At that time Linkeree said to me, Kapock. Can I take an ax?

And I said to Linkeree, Where will you take the ax and to what purpose? This I said because J has told us the metal tools are precious and cannot be made again as well, and so we keep them carefully and do not leave them lying around in the fields to be lost or broken.

Linkeree said to me, Kapock, I will take the ax to a place I know and there I will cut trees for a special purpose, and I will bring the ax to you at dark, and you will have it again.

Now I am not a fool, though I am sometimes foolish, and I knew that Linkeree had not answered me at all. But I also knew that Linkeree was not lazy and that he had several times thought of ideas that J said were very good. Linkeree thought of the way to catch fish with a cloth with holes cut in it, giving us a good change from bread and potatoes and radishes and cream and other such quiet food. Linkeree also thought of the stool with three legs that sits steady no matter what the ground. So he is one to treat with respect. So I did not argue with him, but decided that I would let him take the ax this once, but that if any harm came to it he could not have it again. I thought that this is the way J would have decided.

To my anger Wien and Hux were standing near, and Hux said, Why did you say yes, Kapock? He did not answer you.

And Wien said to Linkeree, Where are you taking the ax and what will you do with it?

I do not answer quickly when I am angry, but Linkeree is always quick to speak his anger. He said to them, It is Kapock who is Warden, not you, and I do not have to answer you.

This made Hux and Wien very angry, so angry that I thought Wien might try to take the ax from Linkeree by strength, which Wien could surely do, being very large and strong, while Linkeree is slight, though also tall.

This is what I said to Hux and Wien: Linkeree is a good man and I will let him take the ax. But if he does not keep his word and return it at dark, then I will require that he tell us where and to what purpose he would take the ax.

Then it will be too late, said Hux.

But I was angry now, and told Hux that tomorrow he would have to bury all the nightsoil of Heaven
City
himself. Hux said no more because he knew that his punishment was just. Wien also said nothing more. But I knew they were angry at Linkeree and angry at me.

Then Linkeree left. He brought back the ax at dark, as I had said, and no more was said on the matter.

I did not think this was important yesterday, but today Sara told me that it was very important. This is the reason she told me: It is important because never before have any of the Ice People spoken against my decision after I had made it. I had not thought of that at the time, but now that I think of it it makes me afraid again, for it means they do not think of me as if I were J, because they would never have spoken against J.

J promised that he would return at harvest next year. Will he then find that I have failed and not been a good Warden? If he does, I will not want to live anymore. I will want to die like the squirrels who are crushed at the falling of a tree.

Sara is reading this and she tells me that I am now being foolish.

There is another reason why this thing that happened yesterday is important. This is the first time that any person has ever done something and not told all the people what he does, and yet has told them that he is doing it. I write this, and have not told others, but they do not know that I am not telling. It is as if Linkeree wanted us all to know that there is something he will not tell us. Why does he do this? It only causes pain and anger, as Hux and Wien and many others are angry.

They fear that Linkeree does not think himself equal to us all, but better, and J has told us that though each of us is better at some things than others are, yet all of us, added together, are equal. This is why we have equal food, unless we are lazy, and why we have equal houses and equal portions of all things, good and bad. This is why when one house is cold, all must help to fix it, or all must take turns sleeping in the cold house until it is warm again. This is good and right, because one should not have less than another when both work as hard.

But if Linkeree thinks himself better than others, will he not want more for himself than for others? This would not be right. I want to know what he does. But I will not force him to tell me — nor will I follow him or allow others to follow him. For as J said to me on one day, If a man does something that you do not understand, do not stop him. Rather wait until you do understand, for then you may learn something for your good. These are the words of J.

This is what has happened with Linkeree and the ax, and I make an end of writing at this time.

My house.

Sara says I should write of my house. I do not think so. But because Sara is often wiser than I, and because it will do no harm for me to write, I write:

My house was built like all other houses of Heaven
City, except that I am on this side of the Star
River and all the other houses are on the other side with the Star
Tower
. But my house is now different, and this is because I am a foolish man. Sara now laughs at me. But it is true.

I looked at the house and it did not look right to me. It was solid like all other houses, but it did not look right to me. Now do you see why I call myself foolish?

So on a night with nothing to do, I took some of the scraps of wool that we had not needed for cloth, and I began to work the loom. After several nights I had good lengths of cloth. I sewed them together like a blanket, only tighter and stronger, and I fastened the cloth to the front of my house above the door, and then tied the two far comers to ropes and tied the other ends of the ropes to posts I put in the ground fifteen paces off. Now the sun never shines through our door, which means that all through the summer our door is open and yet the house is cool.

This is a good reason to do the thing I did. But that was not the reason I did it. I did it because the house did not look right until I did that.

And now I will write something that will surely make Sara laugh. I looked at the house tonight and once again, to me, it does not look right.

Sara is laughing at me. I will make an end of writing for this time.

Linkeree and days of work.

Today was a bad day again, and once again the trouble was about Linkeree. What does he do in the far forest with the ax?

Today Linkeree took the ax early in the morning. With my consent he took the ax. But then later in the morning Hux told me that the firewood was not as deep as it had been last winter, and I went to see. Sure enough, the firewood did not rise as high as the mark in the wall. I felt bad that I had not checked this sooner. But I told Hux and three other men to take axes and cut wood all day instead of doing work on the thatch. This is because thatch can be made even inside a house, but wood cannot be cut easily after the snow is deep.

I forgot that Linkeree had one of the axes. There would not have been a problem except that I forgot.

Hux and Wien came to me and said, We have not got all four axes.

Linkeree has the other, I said.

Then they became angry and said loudly, Why does Linkeree have the ax doing things he will not tell when all of us need the ax to cut wood? It is not right for him to have the ax alone when it is needed for all of us.

They were right, for this is J's law: No man or woman may use a tool when it is needed for another purpose by more people.

But to answer them I had to say, Linkeree did not know our need, and we do not know where he is to fetch it back.

Then they said, It is not right for us not to know, for the ax does not belong to him alone, and yet he has it where none but him can use it.

I said to them, Let three of you cut wood, and the other will make thatch.

But they would not listen, and Hux said loudly, so all in Heaven
City
would hear him, that he would go and follow Linkeree's trail in the forest so he could find him and fetch the ax.

Then I became angry and said just as loudly, so all could hear: You will not follow Linkeree. I am the man that J left as Warden, and I command you as J would command you, not to follow Linkeree, but to wait for his return, and then we will consider what to do.

Then Hux grew very angry, and so did Wien. They said many things. The worst thing they said was this:

Kapock, they said to me, you are not a good Warden, for J treats all of us the same, but you give Linkeree special treatment. You do not make him work as much as us.

And I held my tongue and did not speak, for they were right, and yet they were wrong, and I could not explain. It is true that Linkeree is not working at our tasks as much as the others are. This is because I let him go into the forest to do his unknown thing.

But Linkeree never goes into the forest until he has done as much work as others do. Linkeree is very fast and clever with his hands. He can make good thatch, the best that is made in Heaven City, faster than any other man or woman. When he works the same time as the others, his pile is twice as big. Likewise working with wood and even plowing and other things. Linkeree is not as strong as Wien, but he is clever and works fastest of all.

Thus I do not think it is unfair for him to not work as long as the others, for if he worked as long, would he not be doing more than others?

And yet all men are equal, and Linkeree cannot be given more than others are given. I do not give him more food. I do not give him more clothing, or more of any good or bad things we have.

But I do give him more hours when he is not told what to do. The others now tell me that this is not fair. They say that Linkeree should be in all things equal. Their words sound just.

But this is the question, I think, for Sara and I have talked many hours tonight about this: Does a man's or woman's time belong to all the people, or does his time belong to himself? His body belongs to himself, because no other man or woman can use it, except his wife, which he has not got. Speaking of Linkeree.

But does his time belong to himself? If yes, then when he has done an equal share of all the tasks, the time that remains is surely his own to spend as he wishes, and then I am right to let Linkeree go deep into the forest.