The Stars, My Brothers Read online

  She came over and looked down at him and said to him,

  "Don't try to get up yet. You'll feel better very soon."

  Her voice was a slightly husky one. It was utterly familiar to Kieran, and yet he had never seen this woman before. Then it came to him.

  "You were the one who talked to me," he said, looking up at her. "In the dreams, I mean."

  She nodded. "I'm Paula Ray and I'm a psychologist. You had to be psychologically prepared for your awakening."

  "Prepared?"

  The woman explained patiently. "Hypnopedic technique—establishing facts in the subconscious of a sleeping patient. Otherwise, it would be too terrific a shock for you when you awakened. That was proved when they first tried reviving space-struck men, forty or fifty years ago."

  The comfortable conviction that this was all a fake, an experiment of some kind, began to drain out of Kieran. But if it was true—

  He asked, with some difficulty, "You say that they found out how to revive space-frozen men, that long ago?"

  "Yes."

  "Yet it took forty or fifty years to get around to reviving me?"

  The woman sighed. "You have a misconception. The process of revival was perfected that long ago. But it has been used only immediately after a wreck or disaster. Men or women in the old space-cemeteries have not been revived."

  "Why not?" he asked carefully.

  "Unsatisfactory results," she said. "They could not adjust psychologically to changed conditions. They usually became unbalanced. Some suicides and a number of cases of extreme schizophrenia resulted. It was decided that it was no kindness to the older space-struck cases to bring them back."

  "But you brought me back?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "There were good reasons." She was, clearly, evading that question. She went on quickly. "The psychological shock of awakening would have been devastating, if you were not prepared. So, while you were still under sedation, I used the hypnopedic method on you. Your unconscious was aware of the main facts of the situation before you awoke, and that cushioned the shock."

  Kieran thought of himself, lying frozen and dead in a graveyard that was space, bodies drifting in orbit, circling slowly around each other as the years passed, in a macabre sarabande— A deep shiver shook him.

  "Because all space-struck victims were in pressure-suits, dehydration was not the problem it could have been," Paula was saying. "But it's still a highly delicate process—"

  He looked at her and interrupted roughly. "What reasons?" And when she stared blankly, he added, "You said there were good reasons why you picked me for revival. What reasons?"

  Her face became tight and alert. "You were the oldest victim, in point of date. That was one of the determining factors—"

  "Look," said Kieran. "I'm not a child, nor yet a savage. You can drop the patronizing professional jargon and answer my question."

  Her voice became hard and brittle. "You're new to this environment. You wouldn't understand if I told you."

  "Try me."

  "All right," she answered. "We need you, as a symbol, in a political struggle we're waging against the Sakae."

  "The Sakae?"

  "I told you that you couldn't understand yet," she answered impatiently, turning away. "You can't expect me to fill you in on a whole world that's new to you, in five minutes."

  She started toward the door. "Oh, no," said Kieran. "You're not going yet."

  He slid out of the bunk. He felt weak and shaky but resentment energized his flaccid muscles. He took a step toward her.

  The lights suddenly went dim, and a bull-throated roar sounded from somewhere, an appalling sound of raw power. The slight tingling that Kieran had felt in the metal fabric around him abruptly became a vibration so deep and powerful that it dizzied him and he had to grab the stanchion of the bunk to keep from falling.

  Alarm had flashed into the woman's face. Next moment, from some hidden speaker in the wall, a male voice yelled sharply,

  "Overtaken—prepare for extreme evasion—"

  "Get back into the bunk," she told Kieran.

  "What is it?"

  "It may be," she said with a certain faint viciousness, "that you're about to die a second time."

  3.

  The lights dimmed to semi-darkness, and the deep vibration grew worse. Kieran clutched the woman's arm.

  "What's happening?"

  "Damn it, let me go!" she said.

  The exclamation was so wholly familiar in its human angriness that Kieran almost liked her, for the first time. But he continued to hold onto her, although he did not feel that with his present weakness he could hold her long.

  "I've a right to know," he said.

  "All right, perhaps you have," said Paula. "We—our group—are operating against authority. We've broken laws, in going to Earth and reviving you. And now authority is catching up to us."

  "Another ship? Is there going to be a fight?"

  "A fight?" She stared at him, and shock and then faint repulsion showed in her face. "But of course, you come from the old time of wars, you would think that—"

  Kieran got the impression that what he had said had made her look at him with the same feelings he would have had when he looked at a decent, worthy savage who happened to be a cannibal.

  "I always felt that bringing you back was a mistake," she said, with a sharpness in her voice. "Let me go."

  She wrenched away from him and before he could stop her she had got to the door and slid it open. He woke up in time to lurch after her and he got his shoulder into the door-opening before she could slide it shut.

  "Oh, very well, since you insist I'm not going to worry about you," she said rapidly, and turned and hurried away.

  Kieran wanted to follow her but his knees were buckling under him. He hung to the side of the door-opening. He felt angry, and anger was all that kept him from falling over. He would not faint, he told himself. He was not a child, and would not be treated like one—

  He got his head outside the door. There was a long and very narrow corridor out there, blank metal with a few closed doors along it. One door, away down toward the end of the corridor, was just sliding shut.

  He started down the corridor, steadying himself with his hand against the smooth wall. Before he had gone more than a few steps, the anger that pushed him began to ebb away. Of a sudden, the mountainous and incredible fact of his being here, in this place, this time, this ship, came down on him like an avalanche from which the hypnopedic pre-conditioning would no longer protect him.

  I am touching a starship, I am in a starship, I, Reed Kieran of Midland Springs, Ohio. I ought to be back there, teaching my classes, stopping at Hartnett's Drug Store for a soft drink on the way home, but I am here in a ship fleeing through the stars ...

  His head was spinning and he was afraid that he was going to go out again. He found himself at the door and slid it open and fell rather than walked inside. He heard a startled voice.

  This was a bigger room. There was a table whose top was translucent and which showed a bewildering mass of fleeting symbols in bright light, ever changing. There was a screen on one wall of the room and that showed nothing, a blank, dark surface.

  Vaillant and Paula Ray and a tall, tough-looking man of middle age were around the table and had looked up, surprised.

  Vaillant's face flashed irritation. "Paula, you were supposed to keep him in his cabin!"

  "I didn't think he was strong enough to follow," she said.

  "I'm not," said Kieran, and pitched over.

  The tall middle-aged man reached and caught him before he hit the floor, and eased him into a chair.

  He heard, as though from a great distance, Vaillant's voice saying irritatedly, "Let Paula take care of him, Webber. Look at this—we're going to cross another rift—"

  There were a few minutes then when everything was very jumbled up in Kieran's mind. The woman was talking to him. She was telling him that they had prepared
him physically, as well as psychologically, for the shock of revival, and that he would be quite all right but had to take things more slowly.

  He heard her voice but paid little attention. He sat in the chair and blankly watched the two men who hung over the table and its flow of brilliant symbols. Vaillant seemed to tighten up more and more as the moments passed, and there was still about him the look of a coiled spring but now the spring seemed to be wound to the breaking-point. Webber, the tall man with the tough face, watched the fleeting symbols and his face was stony.

  "Here we go," he muttered, and both he and Vaillant looked up at the blank black screen on the wall.

  Kieran looked too. There was nothing. Then, in an instant, the blackness vanished from the screen and it framed a vista of such cosmic, stunning splendor that Kieran could not grasp it.

  Stars blazed like high fires across the screen, loops and chains and shining clots of them. This was not too different from the way they had looked from Wheel Five. But what was different was that the starry firmament was partly blotted out by vast rifted ramparts of blackness, ebon cliffs that went up to infinity. Kieran had seen astronomical photographs like this and knew what the blackness was.

  Dust. A dust so fine that its percentage of particles in space would be a vacuum, on Earth. But, here where it extended over parsecs of space, it formed a barrier to light. There was a narrow rift here between the titan cliffs of darkness and he—the ship he was in—was fleeing across that rift.

  The screen abruptly went black again. Kieran remained sitting and staring at it. That incredible fleeting vision had finally impressed the utter reality of all this upon his mind. They, this ship, were far from Earth—very far, in one of the dust-clouds in which they were trying to lose pursuers. This was real.

  "—will have got another fix on us as we crossed, for sure," Vaillant was saying, in a bitter voice. "They'll have the net out for us—the pattern will be shaping now and we can't slip through it."

  "We can't," said Webber. "The ship can't. But the flitter can, with luck."

  They both looked at Kieran. "He's the important one," Webber said. "If a couple of us could get him through—"

  "No," said Paula. "We couldn't. As soon as they caught the ship and found the flitter gone, they'd be after him."

  "Not to Sako," said Webber. "They'd never figure that we'd take him to Sako."

  "Do I have a word in this?" asked Kieran, between his teeth.

  "What?" asked Vaillant.

  "This. The hell with you all. I'll go no place with you or for you."

  He got a savage satisfaction from saying it, he was tired of sitting there like a booby while they discussed him, but he did not get the reaction from them he had expected. The two men merely continued to look thoughtfully at him. The woman sighed,

  "You see? There wasn't time enough to explain it to him. It's natural for him to react with hostility."

  "Put him out, and take him along," said Webber.

  "No," said Paula sharply. "If he goes out right now he's liable to stay out. I won't answer for it."

  "Meanwhile," said Vaillant with an edge to his voice, "the pattern is forming up. Have you any suggestions, Paula?"

  She nodded. "This."

  She suddenly squeezed something under Kieran's nose, a small thing that she had produced from her pocket without his noticing it, in his angry preoccupation with the two men. He smelled a sweet, refreshing odor and he struck her arm away.

  "Oh, no, you're not giving me any more dopes—" Then he stopped, for suddenly it all seemed wryly humorous to him. "A bunch of bloody incompetents," he said, and laughed. "This is the one thing I would never have dreamed—that a man could sleep, and wake up in a starship, and find the starship manned by blunderers."

  "Euphoric," said Paula, to the two men.

  "At that," said Webber sourly, "there may be something in what he says about us."

  Vaillant turned on him and said fiercely, "If that's what you think—" Then he controlled himself and said tightly, "Quarrelling's no good. We're in a box but we can maybe still put it over if we get this man to Sako. Webber, you and Paula take him in the flitter."

  Kieran rose to his feet. "Fine," he said gaily. "Let us go in the flitter, whatever that is. I am already bored with starships."

  He felt good, very good. He felt a little drunk, not enough to impede his mental processes but enough to give him a fine devil-may-care indifference to what happened next. So it was only the spray Paula had given him—it still made his body feel better and removed his shock and worry and made everything seem suddenly rather amusing.

  "Let us to Sako in the flitter," he said. "After all, I'm living on velvet, I might as well see the whole show. I'm sure that Sako, wherever it is, will be just as full of human folly as Earth was."

  "He's euphoric," Paula said again, but her face was stricken.

  "Of all the people in that space-cemetery, we had to pick one who thinks like that," said Vaillant, with a sort of restrained fury.

  "You said yourself that the oldest one would be the best," said Webber. "Sako will change him."

  Kieran walked down the corridor with Webber and Paula and he laughed as he walked. They had brought him back from nothingness without his consent, violating the privacy of death or near-death, and now something that he had just said had bitterly disappointed them.

  "Come along," he said buoyantly to the two. "Let us not lag. Once aboard the flitter and the girl is mine."

  "Oh for God's sake shut up," said Webber.

  4.

  It was ridiculous to be flying the stars with a bad hangover, but Kieran had one. His head ached dully, he had an unpleasant metallic taste in his mouth, and his former ebullience had given way to a dull depression. He looked sourly around.

  He sat in a confined little metal coop of a cabin, hardly enough in which to stand erect. Paula Ray, in a chair a few feet away was sleeping, her head on her breast. Webber sat forward, in what appeared to be a pilot-chair with a number of crowded control banks in front of it. He was not doing anything to the controls. He looked as though he might be sleeping, too.

  That was all—a tiny metal room, blank metal walls, silence. They were, presumably, flying between the stars at incredible speeds but there was nothing to show it. There were no screens such as the one he had seen in the ship, to show by artful scanning devices what vista of suns and darknesses lay outside.

  "A flitter," Webber had informed him, "just doesn't have room for the complicated apparatus that such scanners require. Seeing is a luxury you dispense with in a flitter. We'll see when we get to Sako."

  After a moment he had added, "If we get to Sako."

  Kieran had merely laughed then, and had promptly gone to sleep. When he had awakened, it had been with the euphoria all gone and with his present hangover.

  "At least," he told himself, "I can truthfully say that this one wasn't my fault. That blasted spray—"

  He looked resentfully at the sleeping woman in the chair. Then he reached and roughly shook her shoulder.

  She opened her eyes and looked at him, first sleepily and then with resentment.

  "You had no right to wake me up," she said.

  Then, before Kieran could retort, she seemed to realize the monumental irony of what she had just said, and she burst into laughter.

  "I'm sorry," she said. "Go ahead and say it. I had no right to wake you up."

  "Let's come back to that," said Kieran after a moment. "Why did you?"

  Paula looked at him ruefully. "What I need now is a ten-volume history of the last century, and time enough for you to read it. But since we don't have either—" She broke off, then after a pause asked, "Your date was 1981, wasn't it? It and your name were on the tag of your pressure-suit."

  "That's right."

  "Well, then. Back in 1981, it was expected that men would spread out to the stars, wasn't it?"

  Kieran nodded. "As soon as they had a workable high-speed drive. Several drives were being e
xperimented with even then."

  "One of them—the Flournoy principle—was finally made workable," she said. She frowned. "I'm trying to give you this briefly and I keep straying into details."

  "Just tell me why you woke me up."

  "I'm trying to tell you." She asked candidly, "Were you always so damned hateful or did the revivification process do this to you?"

  Kieran grinned. "All right. Go ahead."

  "Things happened pretty much as people foresaw back in 1981," she said. "The drive was perfected. The ships went out to the nearer stars. They found worlds. They established colonies from the overflowing population of Earth. They found human indigenous races on a few worlds, all of them at a rather low technical level, and they taught them.

  "There was a determination from the beginning to make it one universe. No separate nationalistic groups, no chance of wars. The governing council was set up at Altair Two. Every world was represented. There are twenty-nine of them, now. It's expected to go on like that, till there are twenty-nine hundred starworlds represented there, twenty-nine thousand—any number. But—"

  Kieran had been listening closely. "But what? What upset this particular utopia?"

  "Sako."

  "This world we're going to?"

  "Yes," she said soberly. "Men found something different about this world when they reached it. It had people—human people—on it, very low in the scale of civilization."

  "Well, what was the problem? Couldn't you start teaching them as you had others?"

  She shook her head. "It would take a long while. But that wasn't the real problem. It was— You see, there's another race on Sako beside the human ones, and it's a fairly civilized race. The Sakae. The trouble is—the Sakae aren't human."

  Kieran stared at her. "So what? If they're intelligent—"

  "You talk as though it was the simplest thing in the world," she flashed.

  "Isn't it? If your Sakae are intelligent and the humans of Sako aren't, then the Sakae have the rights on that world, don't they?"

  She looked at him, not saying anything, and again she had that stricken look of one who has tried and failed. Then from up forward, without turning, Webber spoke.