The Unreasoning Mask (11 page)

 

 

Ship's rasers had not located any such massive object as Wassruss had
reported. Therefore, the thing might have gone into alaraf-drive to
another sector of space-time. But it could just as easily have returned
to Waliskan space and be waiting. Or it could appear at any second in
this sector.

 

 

Ramstan had already given ship her instructions on what to do if an object
of the dimensions and shape of the thing described by Wassruss appeared.
She was to go into alaraf-drive at once, even though this would probably
mean she would come out into an unknown window. But this was nothing to
worry about, since the ship could always backtrack.

 

 

What if the thing had an equivalent of EVD and could follow the "tracks"
of al-Buraq?

 

 

Then she would have to either plunge into tunnel after tunnel, known or
unknown, or stand and fight. Which action would be taken would depend
upon how distant the thing was when it came out of the tunnel. If it
were very close, say, within a hundred kilometers, then flight was the
answer. If the thing (should he think of it as the bolg?) was far enough
away so that its missiles would take more than three minutes to reach
al-Buraq, then Ramstan would use lasers and rasers and torpedoes and,
as a last resort, the ether-disruptor.

 

 

These might destroy the thing. But if it launched its missiles immediately
on arrival in the window, al-Buraq might have to duck into another tunnel
before the effect of its weapons could be observed. The bolg (there, he'd
said it!) could spew out trillions of missiles, spread them out in a vast
screen that al-Buraq, unless she happened to be at the top velocity
attainable in m-g drive, could not escape.

 

 

And that depended upon the velocity of the missiles. How swiftly were
they hurled from the bolg?

 

 

The Popacapyu maintained the same distance behind the Terran vessel.
Ramstan would have liked to slow down and then speed up to determine
if the Tolt vessel would match the deceleration and acceleration. But
conservation of power was more important in this situation than satisfying
his curiosity.

 

 

After ordering that he be notified immediately if anything demanded
his presence, he went to his quarters. He removed the glyfa from the
safe and placed it under the microscope on the table. He did not turn
on the scope. Instead, he placed a hand on each end of the egg-shape,
stroked the ends lightly, then gripped them tightly. It was as if he
could force something from the glyfa, as if the intensity of his desire
could be transmitted through his hands and choke words out of the thing.

 

 

"The bolg has come," he said softly. "I've seen a whole planet ravaged,
all of its land life, plant and animal, killed. Pegasus is lost, and
I fear that the bolg got her. I'm seeing ghosts from my childhood and
hearing voices.

 

 

"Are the voices yours, are the ghosts images you've projected? If you can
throw a voice as if you were a ventriloquist, why not an image? Speak!
Speak, or in the name of Allah, I'll cast you out from the ship while
it's in space and let you fall into a star!"

 

 

"Which would in no way harm me physically," the voice of his father said.
" I was forged in a star."

 

 

The words sounded as if they came out of a mouth of flesh, one with teeth,
gums, a tongue, a palate, one quite human. But they were not modulated
vibrations of air striking his eardrum. They sprang without benefit of
matter from the glyfa into his brain, where certain impulses evoked
electrical configurations. And these seemed to sound in his ear and
to originate from his long-dead father.

 

 

Now that he had gotten the thing to speak, he was speechless. His heart
thudded, and there was a thunder in his ears as if he lay at the end of
a giant's bowling alley and the ball would strike him soon and fatally.

 

 

The voice slashed through the roaring and seemed to sever it so that the
ends dropped away. But his heart still beat faster than was good for it.

 

 

"You are not of much use while you are afraid of me," the glyfa said.
"Afraid? No, in awe. That is the correct term. No. There is fear,
though not of me so much as of yourself. You are afraid of what you might
do. Which is wrong, since you have been doing what you fear you're going
to do. Too late."

 

 

How could a nonvoice chuckle? Yet, it had done so.

 

 

"No, I don't really laugh. I just evoke laughter in you. Laughter for me.
Never mind. It's too complicated to explain. Tell me why you want to speak
with me."

 

 

In one sense, the glyfa could read his mind. In another sense, it could
not. It had told him that it had read his electrical matrix, the pulsing
configuration of his neural system, when he had appeared at the Great Temple
in Tolt's capital city. It had been able to "see" him as a skeleton of
twisting lightning streaks, a storm of tiny stars and comets' tails.
It had invaded his mind and triggered certain impulses in a configuration
which had made Ramstan lust for the glyfa as he had never lusted for
anyone or anything. It had enveloped him in a globe of light, a bomb-burst
of energy which would have blinded those around him if they could have
seen it. And perhaps Benagur had seen it, and Nuoli had been touched
by it.

 

 

The glyfa had great powers, but these had certain limitations, and distance
was one of the factors modifying them. Not until the three had entered the
house of the glyfa had it been able to determine which of the three
it wanted.

 

 

"I waited for eons for one, and then I got three," the glyfa had said.
"Truly remarkable. Not at all probable. But there it was. As you Terrans
say, 'Feast or famine.'"

 

 

The glyfa had been able to converse at once with Ramstan because it knew
Urzint. But it had been compelled to "use" Ramstan's own voice. In the
interval between the first time it had "spoken" and the second, it had
learned much Terrish and Arabic. It was able to "see" the full referents
of any word or image pulsing in Ramstan's mind.

 

 

At least, that was Ramstan's explanation for the glyfa's quick learning
of the two languages. The glyfa offered none of its own.

 

 

It was evoking the proper words in the proper order from Ramstan's own mind.
In a sense, he was talking to himself. In another, he was conversing with
the glyfa. If he had been asked to define the different senses, he would
have failed.

 

 

Ramstan finally unclogged his mental throat. Subvocalizing, he said, "Here
is what's happened since I last talked to you. Or do you already know it?"

 

 

"Tell me."

 

 

Ramstan did, finding that the glyfa seemed to leap ahead of his words,
to pull out the word or the image by its roots, see the entire plant,
the roots, stein, leaves, flowers, seeds, everything in one scan of
unbelievable speed.

 

 

Strangely, the glyfa seemed more interested in the ghostly person in
the hotel than in other events. At least, it spoke of this first.

 

 

"Do you think it is, indeed, al-Khidhr?"

 

 

"I don't know what to think," Ramstan said. "It could be an exteriorized
projection of my concept of al-Khidhr. A subjective image seeming to be
objective. Or it could be . . . I don't know what."

 

 

The glyfa chuckled. By now Ramstan found this sound sinister.

 

 

"No, not menacing or conspiratorial," the glyfa said. "Secretive, perhaps.
But with good reason. In time all things that are capable of being revealed
will be revealed. But I am making sure that you are not rushed too green into
events which require for you a steady ripening, a slow and sure maturing.

 

 

"That is, if there's time. If not, then . . . Well, we'll see. This Webnite,
Wassruss, is going to give you three gifts, and you have no idea what they
are. But from your description of what happened before she told you this,
I know. I am truly amazed, and, believe me, it takes much to amaze me.
First, three of you come along after a wait so long that your mind couldn't
grasp it. Three at once. Then the gifts of Wassruss. These could easily
have been lost in space or have come to someone else.

 

 

"But there you were, Ali Baba-on-the-spot, as you say in New Babylon.
Where, out of a vastness of cosmos, it was the only place I would have
chosen you, if I had known there was a choice. I did not, of course,
and yet, there you were."

 

 

"What are you talking about?"

 

 

"It's too early to tell you. Though, as I said, I may have to tell you
anyway if events require it. But I was right when I picked you. Perhaps
you are that exceedingly rare individual, one who is a magnet for unlikely
events. One whose matrix overcomes the principles of probabilities.

 

 

"Such beings are possible, though I have never met one, until now,
and I'm still not sure about you. Perhaps it is they who . . ."

 

 

"They?" Ramstan said.

 

 

"Never mind. Not now, anyway."

 

 

Ramstan exploded. "What about the Tolt ship, then? That captain is determined
to get you back! And he's also, I'm sure, out to get revenge on me and
perhaps the entire crew for the sacrilege! But he doesn't dare make a
move which will imperil his chances of retrieving you! So he's taking
it easy, shadowing, waiting for the first chance, and then . . . bang,
boom, that's it! And I can't tell my crew why he's dogging us!"

 

 

"You'll find some way to handle it. It may be that you'll have to fight him.
In which case, you'll have to convince your crew that the Tolt is a grave
danger. And you'll have to antagonize him into attacking you."

 

 

"Do you know what you're saying?" Ramstan said.

 

 

"Calm down. Your agony is affecting me. Yes, I know. You don't realize
as yet, unfortunately, that there is much more at stake than the fate
of a few hundred Tenolt. Or a few hundred Terrans. Or even a few billion
Waliukans."

 

 

"What is at stake then?" Ramstan cried. His voice rang back from the
bulkheads, which shivered as al-Buraq caught a trace of Ramstan's pain
and perplexity. If Chief Engineer Indra was hooked into ship's neural
circuits at this moment, he would be alarmed.

 

 

"Your immortality, for one thing."

 

 

"I don't really care for that!" Ramstan bellowed.

 

 

"No, of course not. Not at the moment. However, I cannot tell you what
the stakes are. Not as yet. You wouldn't believe me. Or, if you did,
you might lose your reason. I am protecting you. Believe me. But then
you have to believe me, don't you?"

 

 

"Damn you!" Ramstan shouted. "Why did you seduce me?"

 

 

The unseduceable can't be seduced," the glyfa said. "You seduced yourself.
When I made my offer, I did not force you to accept. There was no magic
involved, no hypnotism. You had perfect free will or at least as near
to perfect as is possible. It was your choice. You said yes. And your
second thoughts are only that -- second, that is, superficial. The first
are the deepest."

 

 

Ramstan had no reply to this. There was silence. It was possible that
the glyfa was overwhelmed by the emotional blaze from Ramstan.

 

 

The gap was suddenly closed again.

 

 

"This Branwen Davis, the woman you are so attracted to. Haven't you
wondered if there was a connection between her and the Tenolt?"

 

 

Ramstan was shocked.

 

 

"How could there be?"

 

 

He paused in his vocalization, but the glyfa was reading the images and
emotions pouring out like the damned from the suddenly opened gates of Hell.

 

 

"I do not know. That is up to you to find out. Of course, I am only
suggesting a possibility."

 

 

"And I thought I was paranoiac."

 

 

"Don't let your personal feelings for her interfere with good judgment.
As for paranoia, anyone who has the imagination to postulate all
possibilities is automatically a paranoiac."

 

 

"I don't see . . . well, of course, there could be a very slight possibility.
But even so, she is, at this moment anyway, not important. What is vital
is that monster that shoots meteorites, isn't it?"

 

 

"Obviously."

 

 

"And you won't tell me what it is?"

 

 

"When you get to a certain place and meet certain persons, if you ever do,
that is, then I'll tell you. Though by then I may not have to."

 

 

Ramstan struck the top of the table with his fist.

 

 

"I am enjoying this splendid display of emotion, even if it hurts me
somewhat," the glyfa said. "At the same time, I regret that you do not
have better self-control."

 

 

Doctor Hu's voice came from the bulkhead.

 

 

"Captain! The Webnite wishes to speak to you. She says it's very urgent.
It's my opinion, sir, that she hasn't long to live."

 

 

 

 

 

 

... 11 ...

 

 

Davis stood by Wassruss, holding one of the huge webbed hands with her
two hands. Hu was looking at an oscilloscope screen on which a green
horizontal line was displaying tiny sawteeth at irregular intervals.
A medical technician was adjusting the dials on a panel.