The Fugitive Worlds (36 page)

Steenameert cleared his throat and moved closer. "We were told that the crystal sea . . . the Xa
...
is a machine
which will hurl your home world into a distant galaxy, where
you will be safe from the explosion."

I
am quite impressed,
Greturk answered, glancing from
Toller to Steenameert while at the same time gesturing
towards the vehicle's exit.
It is unusual for a species at your
early stage of development to be able to accommodate concepts
which are so far from primitive myth-based visions of. . . .

"We have no relish for being styled as Primitives," Toller
growled. "Divivvidiv learned that to his cost."

Perhaps that is why he withheld a piece of information
which he knew would provoke an extreme reaction from you.

"Out with it!" Toller scowled into the alien's livid face.
"Out with it at once, or I may be. ..."

There is no need to bluster against me, Toller Maraquine,
Greturk replied. I
was opposed to the Xa project from the day of its inception. I am not culpable in any way, and
therefore have no compunction about informing you that on
the instant in which Dussarra is projected into the target galaxy
your home world .
. .
and its neighbor . .
.
will cease to
exist.

In common with the rest of his companions, Toller was so
stunned by Greturk's words that—in spite of the alien's
diminutive stature—he meekly allowed himself to be pushed
and prodded out of the vehicle. The darkness outside was as
copiously shot through with glowing color as before, and in
addition there were curved, tapering columns at the focus of
which hovered a sheet of green luminance. Paying little heed
to his surroundings, Toller brought Greturk to a halt by
grasping his shoulders, and the rest of the humans crowded
around him.

"What was that?" he demanded, using the form of words
through force of habit—the telepathic communication had
been perfectly clear, each word loaded with associated and
corroborative layers of meaning. The Kolcorronians knew
that a death sentence had been passed on their home worlds,
but their minds were unable to accept the concept.

Greturk vainly tried to squirm free of Toller's grip.
It is
vital that we should keep moving.

"It is even more vital that you explain yourself," Toller
countered, refusing to leave the spot. "Why is Overland to
be destroyed?"

Greturk's black-drilled eyes swept around the group, and
Toller knew at once that all of them were about to be
subjected to that disconcerting form of telepathy in which
many facts were implanted in the mind forcibly and simul
taneously. As had been the case with Divivvidiv, he felt a
cerebral beam of lighthouse intensity begin to slew across his
consciousness. . . .

As the sister worlds rotate about their common center of
gravity the disk-shaped instrument known as the Xa turns with
them. Twice in the course of each revolution the Xa's axis
points directly at the Dussarran home world
—
once when it is
projected through Land, once when it is projected through
Overland. It is at one of these instants of perfect alignment
that the Xa will be activated, making Dussarra the focus of supra-geometrical energies which will cause the planet to be
relocated in the target galaxy. In that same instant Land
and Overland will cease to exist in this continuum. Because
Overland is the less massive of the pair, the relocation pulse will be directed through it during the forthcoming alignment.
That alignment is due to occur less than ten minutes from
now. If we are to prevent the relocation taking place
—
and thus save your home worlds from annihilation
—
we must
proceed with all possible speed. The Director is almost certain
to unleash the Vadavaks upon us. RELEASE ME AT ONCE
—AND FOLLOW ME CLOSELY!

The moment of communion ended and Toller found him
self—totally convinced that what he had learned was true—
running behind the little alien. They were heading towards
the circle of inward-leaning columns whose tips were im
mersed in greenish fire. Vantara was holding Toller's left
hand and Steenameert was running by his right, in step with
Jerene. The three female rankers—Tradlo, Mistekka and
Arvand—were keeping pace, and it was obvious from the
grimly urgent set of their faces that they had absorbed
Greturk's message to the full. It was impossible to see far
into the ambient darkness because of the profusion of glowing
blocks and crisscrossing lines of radiance, but Toller was
somehow persuaded that silent battles were taking place over
a wide area. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of black-clad Dussarrans were locked together in their strange form of
hand-to-hand combat, clogging and coagulating, each indi
vidual content to do no more than immobilize one of his
counterparts on the enemy side.

"Why are you doing this?" Toller shouted at Greturk's
back, giving voice to the queries which had been accumulat
ing in sheltered bywaters of his mind ever since the escape from the dome. "What is it to you if others perish?"

Again the swinging beam of mental radiance. . . but faster this time ... a flaring whiplash of knowledge. . . .

Dussarran society has long been divided over the issue of relocating the planet. Despite various pronouncements from the Palace of Numbers about Ropes, many citizens have always doubted that they exist in actuality. We believe that other interpretations of the sub-space probe data could be just as valid. In any case, it is our opinion that intergalactic
relocation is an intemperate response to the situation. We had,
however, failed to bring Director Zunnunun round to our point of view, or to rally a majority of the public behind us.

The relocation seemed destined to take place without any concrete opposition
—
and then came the rumors that one of the sacrificial worlds was inhabited by a humanoid species. It was in an attempt to prevent the spread of that knowledge that Director Zunnunun insisted on the Xa station being designed
in such a way that it could be governed by a single Decisioner.

His plan could well have succeeded had it not been for one unforeseen development. The Xa, of necessity, had to have some degree of consciousness to enable it to control its own growth, but the technologists had never before produced such
an instrument on that scale. They were taken by surprise when,
on reaching a certain level of complexity, the Xa developed self-awareness
—
a personality
—
and began to fear its own dissolution. It was during imperfectly screened exchanges between the Xa and Decisioner Divivvidiv that adepts here on Dussarra established beyond doubt that a burgeoning civilization would be annihilated as a result of the relocation
—
and that was sufficient to unite and mobilize the opposition parties.

The telepathic communication, as well as lodging a store of hard facts like pebbles in the forefront of Toller's mind, was luridly stained with anxiety and urgency. There was a despairing sense of time slipping away too quickly, of great

invisible doors of opportunity being slammed in his face.
Toller tried to run faster to draw abreast of Greturk, but the
alien was fleet of foot and easily kept ahead. They were now
only forty or so paces from the tapering columns, and Toller
saw that other green-dappled aliens were waiting at the center of the circle. There were at least six of them, some
beckoning to the runners, others struggling to move a white
box which was about the size of a small desk.

"Why are we running?" Corporal Tradlo called out from
close behind Toller, her words punctuated with gasps. "What
is to be gained by . . . wearing ourselves out... if naught can be achieved?"

Good question,
Toller thought. It had just occurred to
him that there was little point in escaping by means of the
alien matter transmitter to a world which was about to be
obliterated.

There is much that can be done,
came Greturk's reply.
The
problem lies in doing it quickly enough.

"What can be done?" The question came from several of
the humans simultaneously.

The white object you see being dragged on to the transfer plate by my brothers is a simplified version of the machine
which was used to transport this world to its present location.
The plan is to take it to Overland and use it to displace the planet by a short distance. A few tens of miles would be
sufficient to destabilize the Xa and start its axis wandering.
Under those conditions the relocation of Dussarra could not be attempted.

Toller stumbled to a halt at the edge of the green-lit circle,
his gaze fixed on the white box. "How could
that
move an entire planet?" he said in tones of wonder. "It is much too small."

Even in a moment of crushing urgency there was a note
of ironic amusement in Greturk's reply.
How large must a
fulcrum be, Toller Maraquine?

Before Toller could speak further there came a vast hum
ming sound from directly above and curved rows of lights
appeared far up in the gaudy darkness. The lights were in
fixed positions with regard to each other, giving the im
pression they belonged to a huge skyship which was taking
up its station overhead. The oppressive humming rose and
fell at an increasing tempo, creating a sonic bludgeoning
effect which numbed mind and body.

Run to the center of the plate!
Greturk fussed and fluttered
like a protective bird around the group of humans, goading
them into motion.
We have no more time!

Still holding Vantara's hand, Toller moved on to a circular
area of coppery metal some ten paces in diameter. Steenameert
and the three rankers crowded on to the disk with
him, and the group coalesced with the knot of aliens who
were gathered around the white box. . . .