Collected Stories 2 - Second Variety and Other Classic Stories Page 9

  "You'll hear from me either tonight or tomorrow." Ryan ascended to the roof and entered his inter-city ship.

  As soon as he was in the sky he clicked on the vidscreen and dialed the League Offices. The face of the League Monitor appeared. "Offices."

  "Give me the medical center."

  The monitor faded. Presently Walter Timmer, the medical director, appeared on the screen. His eyes flickered as he recognized Ryan. "What can I do for you, Caleb?"

  "I want you to get out a medical car and a few good men and come over here to City Four."

  "Why?"

  "It's a matter I discussed with you several months ago. You recall, I think."

  Timmer's expression changed. "Your son?"

  "I've decided. I can't wait any longer. He's getting worse, and we'll be leaving soon on the time trip. I want it performed before I leave."

  "All right." Timmer made a note. "We'll make immediate arrangements here. And we'll send a ship over to pick him up at once."

  Ryan hesitated. "You'll do a good job?"

  "Of course. We'll have James Pryor perform the actual operation." Timmer reached up to cut the vidscreen circuit. "Don't worry, Caleb. He'll do a good job. Pryor is the best lobotomist the center has."

  Ryan laid out the map, stretching the corners flat against the table. "This is a time map, drawn up in the form of a space projection. So we can see where we're going."

  Kastner peered over his shoulder. "Will we be confined to the one Project - getting Schonerman's papers? Or can we move around?"

  "Only the one Project is contemplated. But to be certain of success we should make several stops on this side of Schonerman's continuum. Our time map may be inaccurate, or the drive itself may act with some bias."

  The work was finished. All the final sections were put in place.

  In a corner of the room Jon sat watching, his face expressionless. Ryan glanced toward him. "How does it look to you?"

  "Fine."

  The time ship was like some stubby insect, overgrown with warts and knobs. A square box with windows and endless turrets. Not really a ship at all.

  "I guess you wish you could come," Kastner said to Jon. "Right?"

  Jon nodded faintly.

  "How are you feeling?" Ryan asked him.

  "Fine."

  Ryan studied his son. The boy's color had come back. He had regained most of his original vitality. The visions, of course, no longer existed.

  "Maybe you can come next time," Kastner said.

  Ryan returned to the map. "Schonerman did most of his work between 2030 and 2037. The results were not put to any use until several years later. The decision to use his work in the war was reached only after long consideration. The Government seemed to have been aware of the dangers."

  "But not sufficiently so."

  "No." Ryan hesitated. "And we may be getting ourselves into the same situation."

  "How do you mean?"

  "Schonerman's discovery of the artificial brain was lost when the last claw was destroyed. None of us have been able to duplicate his work. If we bring his papers we may put society back in jeopardy. We may bring back the claws."

  Kastner shook his head. "No. Schonerman's work was not implicitly related to the claws. The development of an artificial brain does not imply lethal usage. Any scientific discovery can be used for destruction. Even the wheel was used in the Assyrian war chariots."

  "I suppose so." Ryan glanced up at Kastner. "Are you certain USIC doesn't intend to use Schonerman's work along military lines?"

  "USIC is an industrial combine. Not a government."

  "It would ensure its advantage for a long time."

  "USIC is strong enough as it is."

  "Let it go." Ryan rolled up the map. "We can start any minute. I'm anxious to get going. We've worked a long time on this."

  "I agree."

  Ryan crossed the room to his son. "We're leaving, Jon. We should be back fairly soon. Wish us luck."

  Jon nodded. "I wish you luck."

  "You're feeling all right?"

  "Yes."

  "Jon - you feel better now, don't you? Better than before?"

  "Yes."

  "Aren't you glad they're gone? All the troubles you were having?"

  "Yes."

  Ryan put his hand awkwardly on the boy's shoulder. "We'll see you later."

  Ryan and Kastner made their way up the ramp to the hatch of the time ship. From the corner, Jon watched them silently. A few League Guards lounged at the entrances to the work lab, watching with idle interest.

  Ryan paused at the hatch. He called one of the guards over. "Tell Timmer I want him."

  The guard went off, pushing through the exit.

  "What is it?" Kastner said.

  "I have some final instructions to give him."

  Kastner shot him a sharp glance. "Final? What's the matter? You think something's going to happen to us?"

  "No. Just a precaution."

  Timmer came striding in. "You're leaving, Ryan?"

  "Everything's ready. There's no reason to hold back any longer."

  Timmer came up the ramp. "What did you want me for?"

  "This may be unnecessary. But there's always the possibility something might go wrong. In case the ship doesn't reappear according to schedule I've filed with the League members -"

  "You want me to name a protector for Jon."

  "That's right."

  "There's nothing to worry about."

  "I know. But I'd feel better. Someone should watch out for him."

  They both glanced at the silent, expressionless boy sitting in the corner of the room. Jon stared straight ahead. His face was blank. His eyes were dull, listless. There was nothing there.

  "Good luck," Timmer said. He and Ryan shook hands. "I hope everything works out."

  Kastner climbed inside the ship, setting down his briefcase. Ryan followed him, lowering the hatch into place and bolting it into position. He sealed the inner lock. A bank of automatic lighting came on. Controlled atmosphere began to hiss into the cabin of the ship.

  "Air, light, heat," Kastner said. He peered out the port at the League Guards outside. "It's hard to believe. In a few minutes all this will disappear. This building. These guards. Everything."

  Ryan seated himself at the control board of the ship, spreading out the time map. He fastened the map into position, crossing the surface with the cable leads from the board before him. "It's my plan to make several observation stops along the way, so we can view some of the past events relevant to our work."

  "The war?"

  "Mainly. I'm interested in seeing the claws in actual operation. At one time they were in complete control of Terra, according to the War Office records."

  "Let's not get too close, Ryan."

  Ryan laughed. "We won't land. We'll make our observations from the air. The only actual contact we'll make will be with Schonerman."

  Ryan closed the power circuit. Energy flowed through the ship around them, flooding into the meters and indicators on the control board. Needles jumped, registering the load.

  "The main thing we have to watch is our energy peak," Ryan explained. "If we build up to much of a load of time ergs the ship won't be able to come out of the time stream. We'll keep moving back into the past, building up a greater and greater charge."

  "An enormous bomb."

  "That's right." Ryan adjusted the switches before him. The meter readings changed. "Here we go. Better hang on."

  He released the controls. The ship shuddered as it polarized into position, easing into the time flow. The vanes and knobs changed their settings, adjusting themselves to the stress. Relays closed, braking the ship against the current sweeping around them.

  "Like the ocean," Ryan murmured. "The most potent energy in the universe. The great dynamic behind all motion. The Prime Mover."

  "Maybe this is what they used to mean by God."

  Ryan nodded. The ship was vibrating around them. They were in the
grip of a giant hand, an immense fist closing silently. They were in motion. Through the port the men and walls had begun to waver, fading out of existence as the ship slipped out of phase with the present, drifting farther and farther into the flow of the time stream.

  "It won't be long," Ryan murmured.

  All at once the scene beyond the port winked out. There was nothing there. Nothing beyond them.

  "We've not phased with any space-time objects," Ryan explained. "We're out of focus with the universe itself. At this moment we exist in non-time. There's no continuum in which we're operating."

  "I hope we can get back again." Kastner sat down nervously, his eyes on the blank port. "I feel like the first man who went down in a submarine."

  "That was during the American Revolution. The submarine was propelled by a crank which the pilot turned. The other end of the crank was a propeller."

  "How could he go very far?"

  "He didn't. He cranked his ship under a British frigate and then bored a hole in the frigate's hull."

  Kastner glanced up at the hull of the time ship, vibrating and rattling from stress. "What would happen if this ship should break open?"

  "We'd be atomized. Dissolved into the stream around us." Ryan lit a cigarette. "We'd become a part of the time flow. We'd move back and forth endlessly, from one end of the universe to the other."

  "End?"

  "The time ends. Time flows both ways. Right now we're moving back. But energy must move both ways to keep a balance. Otherwise time ergs in vast amounts would collect at one particular continuum and the result would be catastrophic."

  "Do you suppose there's some purpose behind all of this? I wonder how the time flow ever got started."

  "Your question is meaningless. Questions of purpose have no objective validity. They can't be subjected to any form of empirical investigation."

  Kastner lapsed into silence. He picked at his sleeve nervously, watching the port.

  Across the time map the cable arms moved, tracing a line from the present back into the past. Ryan studied the motion of the arms. "We're reaching the latter part of the war. The final stages. I'm going to rephase the ship and bring it out of the time flow."

  "Then we'll be back in the universe again?"

  "Among objects. In a specific continuum."

  Ryan gripped the power switch. He took a deep breath. The first great test of the ship had passed. They had entered the time stream without accident. Could they leave it as easily? He opened the switch.

  The ship leaped. Kastner staggered, catching hold of the wall support. Outside the port a gray sky twisted and wavered. Adjustments fell into place, leveling the ship in the air. Down below them Terra circled and tilted as the ship gained equilibrium.

  Kastner hurried to the port to peer out. They were a few hundred feet above the surface, rushing parallel to the ground. Gray ash stretched out in all directions, broken by the occasional mounds of rubbish. Ruins of towns, buildings, walls. Wrecks of military equipment. Clouds of ash blew across the sky, darkening the sun.

  "Is the war still on?" Kastner asked.

  "The claws still possess Terra. We should be able to see them."

  Ryan raised the time ship, increasing the scope of their view. Kastner scanned the ground. "What if they fire at us?"

  "We can always escape into time."

  "They might capture the ship and use it to come to the present."

  "I doubt it. At this stage in the war the claws were busy fighting among themselves."

  To their right ran a winding road, disappearing into the ash and reappearing again later on. Bomb craters gaped here and there, breaking the road up. Something was coming slowly along it.

  "There," Kastner said. "On the road. A column of some sort."

  Ryan maneuvered the ship. They hung above the road, the two of them peering out. The column was dark brown, a marching file making its way steadily along. Men, a column of men, marching silently through the landscape of ash.

  Suddenly Kastner gasped. "They're identical! All of them are the same!"

  They were seeing a column of claws. Like lead toys, the robots marched along, tramping through the gray ash. Ryan caught his breath. He had expected such a sight, of course. There were only four types of claws. These he saw now had all been turned out in the same underground plant, from the same dies and stampers. Fifty or sixty robots, shaped like young men, marched calmly along. They moved very slowly. Each had only one leg.

  "They must have been fighting among themselves," Kastner murmured.

  "No. This type was made this way. The Wounded Soldier Type. Originally they were designed to trick human sentries to gain entrance into regular bunkers."

  It was weird, watching the silent column of men, identical men, each the same as the next, plodding along the road. Each soldier supported himself with a crutch. Even the crutches were identical. Kastner opened and closed his mouth in revulsion.

  "Not very pleasant, is it?" Ryan said. "We're lucky the human race got away to Luna."

  "Didn't any of these follow?"

  "A few, but by that time we had identified the four types and were ready for them." Ryan took hold of the power switch. "Let's go on."

  "Wait." Kastner raised his hand. "Something's going to happen."

  To the right of the road a group of figures were slipping rapidly down the side of a rise, through the ash. Ryan let go of the power switch, watching. The figures were identical. Women. The women, in uniforms and boots, advanced quietly toward the column on the road.

  "Another variety," Kastner said.

  Suddenly the column of soldiers halted. They scattered, hobbling awkwardly in all directions. Some of them fell, stumbling and dropping their crutches. The women rushed out on the road. They were slender and young, with dark hair and eyes. One of the Wounded Soldiers began to fire. A woman fumbled at her belt. She made a throwing motion.

  "What -" Kastner muttered. There was a sudden flash. A cloud of white light rose from the center of the road, billowing in all directions.

  "Some kind of concussion bomb," Ryan said.

  "Maybe we better get out of here."

  Ryan threw the switch. The scene below them began to waver. Abruptly it faded. It winked out.

  "Thank God that's over," Kastner said. "So that's what the war was like."

  "The second part. The major part. Claw against claw. It's a good thing they started fighting with each other. Good for us, I mean."

  "Where to now?"

  "We'll make one more observation stop. During the early part of the war. Before claws came into use."

  "And then Schonerman?"

  Ryan set his jaw. "That's right. One more stop and then Schonerman."

  Ryan adjusted the controls. The meters moved slightly. Across the map the cable arm traced their path. "It won't be long," Ryan murmured. He gripped the switch, setting the relays in place. "This time we have to be more careful. There'll be more war activity."

  "Maybe we shouldn't even -"

  "I want to see. This was man against man. The Soviet region against the United Nations. I'm curious to see what it was like."

  "What if we're spotted?"

  "We can get away quickly."

  Kastner said nothing. Ryan manipulated the controls. Time passed. At the edge of the board Ryan's cigarette burned to an ash. At last he straightened up.

  "Here we go. Get set." He opened the switch.

  Below them green and brown plains stretched out, pocked with bomb craters. Part of a city swept past. It was burning. Towering columns of smoke rose up, drifting into the sky. Along the roads black dots moved, vehicles and people streaming away.

  "A bombing," Kastner said. "Recent."

  The city fell behind. They were over open country. Military trucks rushed along. Most of the land was still intact. They could see a few farmers working the fields. The farmers dropped down as the time ship moved over them.

  Ryan studied the sky. "Watch out."

  "Air craft
?"

  "I'm not sure where we are. I don't know the location of the sides in this part of the war. We may be over UN territory, or Soviet territory." Ryan held on tight to the switch.

  From the blue sky two dots appeared. The dots grew. Ryan watched them intently. Beside him Kastner gave a nervous grunt. "Ryan, we better -"

  The dots separated. Ryan's hand closed over the power switch. He yanked it closed. As the scene dissolved the dots swept past. Then there was nothing but grayness outside.

  In their ears the roar of the two planes still echoed.

  "That was close," Kastner said.

  "Very. They didn't waste any time."

  "I hope you don't want to stop any more."

  "No. No more observation stops. The Project itself comes next. We're close to Schonerman's time area. I can begin to slow down the velocity of the ship. This is going to be critical."

  "Critical?"

  "There are going to be problems getting to Schonerman. We must hit his continuum exactly, both in space as well as time. He may be guarded. In any case they won't give us much time to explain who we are." Ryan tapped the time map. "And there's always the chance the information given here is incorrect."

  "How long before we rephase with a continuum? Schonerman's continuum?"

  Ryan looked at his wristwatch. "About five or ten minutes. Get ready to leave the ship. Part of this is going to be on foot."

  It was night. There was no sound, only unending silence. Kastner strained to hear, his ear against the hull of the ship. "Nothing."

  "No. I don't hear anything either." Carefully, Ryan unbolted the hatch, sliding the locks back. He pushed the hatch open, his gun gripped tight. He peered out into the darkness.

  The air was fresh and cold. Full of smells of growing things. Trees and flowers. He took a deep breath. He could see nothing. It was pitch black. Far off, a long way off, a cricket chirruped.

  "Hear that?" Ryan said.

  "What is it?"

  "A beetle." Ryan stepped gingerly down. The ground was soft underfoot. He was beginning to adjust to the darkness. Above him a few stars glinted. He could make out trees, a field of trees. And beyond the trees a high fence.

  Kastner stepped down beside him. "What now?"

  "Keep your voice down." Ryan indicated the fence. "We're going that way. Some kind of building."