The World of Null-A (12 page)

There were several suits of clothing in the clothes closet of the bedroom, and he had selected one that was made up of a dark but shiny material when he heard a door open. He slipped into his dressing gown and went out into the living room. Patricia Hardie was in the act of closing the door which Crang had called the back entrance. She whirled with a lithe movement and came toward him.

“You damned fool!” she said without preliminary. “Why did you leave so fast when those guards came into my apartment? Didn’t you hear me tell them I didn’t allow my rooms to be searched on Thorson’s orders?” She made a movement with her hand, a silencing movement. “Never mind. It’s past. You did leave, got yourself killed, and now here you are again. That
was
you that was killed, wasn’t it? It wasn’t only a chance resemblance?”

Gosseyn parted his lips. She cut him off.

“I can only stay a minute. Believe me, I’m suspect number one in your escape last month, and if I’m caught up here-” She shuddered convincingly. “Gosseyn, who are you? You must know by now.”

He studied her, infected by her excitement. She brought an aliveness into the room that had been missing. Her very breathlessness was intriguing.

“Tell me,” she said imperiously. “Quick!”

It was easy enough to tell her what he knew. He had awakened on Venus without memory of how he had gotten there. He had nothing to hide of subsequent events except his knowledge that Prescott was of the gang. Even that Patricia knew, for she had loudly made the identification within his hearing. It was the one fact, however, that he could not mention aloud. If dictaphones were listening to this conversation, that was a secret which they must share in silence.

But everything else he told her, succinctly. Before he finished, she flung herself into a chair and bit her lips in obvious vexation.

“This second body of yours,” she said finally, “actually knows nothing more than the first. You’re really just a pawn.”

Gosseyn stood looking down at her. He couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed or amused. He was not prepared to go into the problem of two Gosseyn bodies with her, though he had had a few thoughts on the subject. The reference to his being a pawn stung, because it was true.

“Look,” he said shortly, “where do you fit into all this?”

The girl’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. The truth is that your very lack of knowledge has startled all groups. Thorson, the personal representative of Enro, has postponed the invasion of Venus. There! I thought that would interest you. But wait! Don’t interrupt. I’m giving you information which I intended to give you a month ago. You’ll want to know about ‘X.’ So do the rest of us. The man has a will of iron, but no one knows what his purpose is. He seems to be primarily interested in his own aggrandizement, and he has expressed the hope that some use can be made of you. The Galactic League people are bewildered. They can’t decide whether the cosmic chess player who has moved you into this game is an ally or not. Everybody is groping in the dark, wondering what to do next.”

She paused. Her eyes were bright and excited. “My friend,” she said, “there must be an opportunity for you in all this confusion. Take it.” She was suddenly earnest. “Take it if it is offered and hasn’t got impossible conditions attached to it. Stay alive.”

She was on her feet. She touched his arm in a gesture of friendliness, and half ran to the door. In the open doorway she paused.

“Good luck!” she said, and shut the door behind her.

Gosseyn had his shower, thinking, “How does she know what all these people do and believe? Who is
she?”
When he came out of the bathroom, he saw that he had another visitor. President Hardie sat in one of the chairs.

The man’s noble face lighted as he saw Gosseyn. Sitting there, he looked strong and calm and determined, an idealized version of a great man. He fixed his steady gaze on Gosseyn’s face.

“I had this suite prepared for you,” he said, “because I wanted to talk to you without fear of being overheard. But there is no time to waste.”

“Isn’t there?” said Gosseyn.

He spoke with deliberate hostility. This man had permitted a gang to make him president by a method which subverted the games of the Machine. The crime was colossal, unforgivable, and personal.

The fine face of the older man broke into a faint smile. “Come now,” said Hardie. “Let us not be juvenile. You want information. So do I. You ask three questions, then I’ll ask three.” A pause. Then sharply, “You must have questions, man.”

Gosseyn’s hostility collapsed. He had more questions than he could ask in an evening. There was no time to waste.

“Who are you?” he asked pointedly.

Hardie shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I am either what I appear to be or I am not. If the latter, then for me to tell you would put me at your mercy. A lie detector could get the information out of you.”

He finished curtly, “Don’t take up time with questions that might destroy me. Now hurry.”

“Do you know anything about me other than what has already been told?”

“Yes,” said President Hardie.

He must have seen the look that came into Gosseyn’s face, for he added quickly, “Not much, frankly. But a few days before you appeared on the scene, I received a letter in my personal mail. It was mailed here in the city of the Machine, and it indicated that the author knew all the details of what we had considered the best-kept secret in the solar system-the author knew about the attack being planned against Venus. After giving the whole story in brief, the letter went on to state that you would be staying at the Tropical Park Hotel and that you would prevent the attack on Venus.

“There was certain information in the letter which I did not care to have the others see, so I burned it and had you brought to the palace through the complicated procedure of which you already know. There you are. Now, question three.”

“Two!” corrected Gosseyn.

“Three. If I ask a question you refuse to answer, it will count against me. Fair?”

His protest had been automatic. His mind was on what Hardie had said. He did not doubt the story. The reality could have been something like that. What was behind it, of course, was another matter.

Gosseyn studied the older man, impressed for the first time. The President was only one of a diverse group of highly capable plotters, each with his own purposes. But it was his personal achievement that he had persuaded men as egotistical as himself to give him the highest nominal position. The man’s character, which he had scarcely thought about before, suddenly proved more intricate.

“Gosseyn, your next question!”

He had forgotten that speed was important. And besides the conviction was already on him that he was not going to learn much. These people didn’t know enough. He said, “What’s going to happen to me?”

“You will be made an offer, just what I don’t know yet Thorson and ‘X’ are talking it over. Whatever it is, I think you would be advised to accept it for the time being.

Mind you, you’re in a strong position. Theoretically, if you can have two bodies, then why not a third?” He frowned. “Still, that’s a speculation.”

Gosseyn had stopped believing that he had ever had two bodies. He parted his lips to say so scathingly, and then closed them again. His eyes narrowed. These people must have some purpose in trying to put over an idea like that. It all seemed obscure and meaningless, but he mustn’t forget that he had never actually been out of the control of the gang. Even the roboplane which claimed to be an agent of the Machine could have been carefully coached to give that impression. He’d better await developments.

He looked at Hardie and said aloud simply, “Yes, it’s a speculation.”

“My first question,” said Hardie, “has to do with the man or group who is behind you. Has anyone claiming to be the representative of such an individual contacted you?”

“Definitely not. Unless the Machine is responsible, then I’m absolutely in the dark.”

Hardie said, “Your belief about that does not make it so.” He smiled. “Now you’ve got me making null-A statements. I’ve noticed the others do it, too. Even as we plot to destroy the null-A philosophy, we adopt its logic. ‘The map is not the territory.’ Your belief that you know nothing is an abstraction from reality, not the reality itself.”

He paused. He sat quiet for a moment smiling with amusement, then said, “Question two: Have you any feeling in yourself of being different from other human beings?” He shrugged. “I admit that’s an unsemantic question, because you can only know by observation what other people are like and your observations my be different from my own. We live in private worlds. Still, I can’t describe it better than that. Well?”

This time Gosseyn found the question not only acceptable but profoundly interesting. Here were his own thoughts being put into words.

“I feel no difference in myself. I assume you mean the discovery made about my brain by Thorson.” He broke off, tense. “What is there about my brain?”

He leaned forward. His body felt cold and hot by turns. He sighed as Hardie said, “Wait your turn. I still have my third question. What I want to know is, how did you find Crang’s hideout?”

“I was taken there by a roboplane, which forced me to go along.”

“Whose roboplane?” said Hardie.

“It’s my question, thank you,” said Gosseyn. “I think maybe we’d better each ask a question at a time. What’s in my brain?”

“Additional brain matter. I know nothing of its nature. Thorson has come to discount its possibilities.”

Gosseyn nodded. He was inclined to agree with Thorson. From the beginning he had felt not the slightest “difference.”

“Whose roboplane?” Hardie repeated.

“It implied that it represented the Machine.”

“Implied?”

“My question,” said Gosseyn.

Hardie scowled. “You’re not answering your questions completely. Didn’t it give you any evidence?”

“It knew several things that the Machine knows, but it urged me to surrender. I regard that as suspicious.”

Hardie was thoughtful. “I see your point. And I can’t clear that up for you. Crang dominates Thorson these days, and I am in the dark on many things. I’m afraid”-he smiled ruefully-“I’m being relegated.”

So that was why he was here, offering facts on an equal exchange basis. Gosseyn had a sudden vivid picture of these Earthmen beginning to realize that they had been pawns. Before he could speak, Hardie said harshly, “I regret nothing, if that’s what you’re thinking. The Machine denied me the right to further advancement, and I refused to accept any such limitation.”

“Why did it deny you?”

“Because it saw in me a potential dictator, so it said. The damned thing was set to weed out people like me at a time when there was still legitimate fear of such an eventuality.”

“So you proceeded to prove that it was right?”

“The opportunity came, and I took it. I’d do the same thing again, under the same circumstances. There’ll be a place for me in the galactic hierarchy. Thorson is just playing safe now, in this crisis.”

The grim expression faded from his face. He smiled. “We’re getting away from our subject and-“

There was an interruption. The door opened, and a man in uniform entered hastily and shut the door behind him.

“Sir,” he said to Hardie, “Mr. Thorson is climbing the stairs. I just received the signal.”

President Hardie stood up. He looked annoyed but calm. “Well, that ends that. But I think I’ve learned what I wanted to know. I’ve been trying to make up my mind about you. It’s clear to me that you are not the final Gosseyn. Good-by, and remember what I said. For the present, make compromises. Stay alive.”

He and the guard went out the door through which Patricia had disappeared fifteen minutes earlier. They were gone only a few seconds when there was a knock on the main corridor door. Then the door was pushed open, and Thorson came in.

The big man paused on the threshold, and he was as Gosseyn remembered him, heavy-faced, hawk-nosed and strong. From the beginning, Thorson’s position had been unmistakable-the man everyone feared, agent of Enro. Now his somber eyes surveyed Gosseyn.

“Not dressed yet!” he said sharply.

His gaze darted over the room. His eyes were suspicious. And in that mood, Gosseyn saw the man suddenly in another light. From the stars he had come into a strange sun system. Here on Earth, surrounded by people he did not know, acting under a directive from a remote authority, he was trying to carry out his instructions. The strain was transparently terrific. At no time could he be certain of the loyalty of the people with whom he had to co-operate.

He sniffed the
air
now. “Interesting perfume you use,” he commented.

“I hadn’t noticed,” said Gosseyn. His attention having been called to it, he detected a faint scent. He wondered if it belonged to Patricia. She’d have to watch out for little things like that. He stared at the big man stonily. “What do you want?”

Thorson made no effort to come further into the room, nor did he shut the door. He studied Gosseyn thoughtfully.

“I just wanted to have a look at you,” he said. “Just look at you.” He shrugged finally. “Well, that’s that.”

He turned and went out. The door closed behind him. Gosseyn blinked. He had been tensing for a verbal clash and he felt let down. He continued his dressing, puzzled by the man’s action. He forgot it as he saw by the bedroom clock that it was almost time for Crang to come back. A moment later he heard the outer door open.

“Be right with you,” he called.

There was no answer and no sound. A shadow darkened the door. Gosseyn looked up with a start. John Prescott came into the bedroom.

“I’ve only got a minute,” he said.

In spite of his surprise, Gosseyn sighed. The uniform haste of his visitors was becoming tiresome. But he said nothing, simply climbed to his feet and looked at the man questioningly.

“You’ll be wondering about me,” said Prescott.

Gosseyn nodded, but his mind was almost blank. He listened silently to the rapid explanation that followed. It was all there. Galactic agent. Secret supporter of null-A. “Naturally,” said Prescott, “I wasn’t going to tell you that unless I had to. I recognized you from photographs when you were attacking me that afternoon, and, frankly, I reported your presence on Venus, taking it for granted that you would be able to get away. I was startled when you turned up at Crang’s tree house.”