Nemesis (30 page)

“I would like to see that.”

“You will, then, but be prepared. It’s large. Really large. Nearly twice as wide as Nemesis and it looks almost like it’s about to fall on us. Some people simply can’t endure the sight. It won’t fall, though. It can’t. Try to remember that.”

They moved along at a higher altitude and a heightened speed. The ocean lay below in wrinkled sameness, occasionally obscured by clouds.

Eventually, Genarr said, “If you’ll look ahead and a little to the right, you’ll see Megas beginning to show at the horizon. We’ll turn toward it.”

It looked like a small patch of light along the horizon at first, but grew like a slow upward swell. Then the widening arc of a deep red circle lifted itself above the horizon. It was distinctly deeper than Nemesis, which could still be seen to the right and in back of the plane, and somewhat lower in the sky.

As Megas loomed larger, it soon became apparent that what was being revealed was not a full circle of light, a bit more than a semicircle.

Marlene said with interest, “Now
that’s
what they mean by ‘phases,’ isn’t that right?”

“Exactly right. We only see the part that’s lit by Nemesis. As Erythro goes around Megas, Nemesis seems to move closer to Megas and we see less and less of the lit half of the planet. Then when Nemesis skims just above or below Megas, we just see a thin curve of light at Megas’ boundary; that’s all we see of its lighted hemisphere. Sometimes Nemesis actually moves behind Megas. Nemesis is then eclipsed, and all the dim stars of night come out, not just the bright ones that show even when Nemesis is in the sky. During the eclipse, you can see a large circle of darkness with no stars in it at all, and that show you where Megas is. When Nemesis reappears on the other side, you began to see a thin curve of light again.”

“How marvelous,” said Marlene. “It’s like a show in the sky. And look at Megas—all those moving stripes.”

They stretched across the lighted portion of the globe, thick and reddish brown, interspersed with orange, and slowly writhing.

“They’re storm bands,” said Genarr, “with terrific winds that blow this way and that. If you watch closely, you’ll see spots form and expand, drift along, then spread out and vanish.”

“It
is
like a holovision show,” said Marlene raptly. “Why don’t people watch it all the time?”

“Astronomers do. They watch it through computerized instruments located on this hemisphere. I’ve seen it myself in our Observatory. You know, we had a planet like this back in the Solar System. It’s called Jupiter, and it’s even larger than Megas.”

By now, the planet had lifted entirely above the horizon, looking like a bloated balloon that had, somehow, partially collapsed along its left half.

Marlene said, “It’s lovely. If the Dome were built on this side of Erythro,
everyone
could watch it.”

“Actually not, Marlene. It doesn’t seem to work that way. Most people don’t like Megas. I told you that some people get the impression that Megas is falling and it frightens them.”

Marlene said impatiently, “Only a few people would have such a silly notion.”

“Only a few to begin with, but silly notions can be contagious. Fears spread, and some people who wouldn’t be afraid if left to themselves, become afraid because their neighbor is. Haven’t you ever noticed that sort of thing?”

“Yes, I have,” she said with a touch of bitterness. “If one boy thinks a bimbo is pretty, they all do. They start competing—” She paused, as if in embarrassment.

“The contagious fear is one reason we built the Dome on the other hemisphere. Another is that with Megas always in the sky, astronomic observations are more difficult to make in
this
hemisphere. But I think it’s time we begin our return. You know your mother. She’ll be in a panic.”

“Call her and tell her we’re all right.”

“I don’t have to. This ship is sending out signals continuously. She knows we’re all right—physically. But that’s not what she’s worried about,” he said, tapping his temple significantly.

Marlene slumped in her chair and a look of deep discontent crossed her face. “What a pain. I know everyone
will say, ‘It’s just because she
loves
you,’ but it’s such a bother. Why can’t she just take my word for it that I’ll be all right?”

“Because she
loves
you,” said Genarr, as he quietly instructed the aircraft to return home, “just as you love Erythro.”

Marlene’s face brightened at once. “Oh, I do.”

“Yes yes. It’s quite visible in your every reaction to the world.”

And Genarr wondered how Eugenia Insigna would react to
that
.

She reacted in fury. “What do you mean, she loves Erythro? How can she love a dead world? Is it possible you brainwashed her? Is there some reason you’ve talked her into loving it?”

“Eugenia, be reasonable. Do you really believe it is possible to brainwash Marlene into anything? Have you ever succeeded in doing so?”

“Then what happened?”

“Actually, I tried to subject her to situations that would displease or frighten her. If anything, I tried to ‘brainwash’ her into
disliking
Erythro. I know from experience that Rotorians, brought up in the tight little world of a Settlement, hate the endlessness of Erythro; they don’t like the redness of the light; they don’t like that enormous puddle of an ocean; they don’t like darkening clouds; they don’t like Nemesis; and, most of all, they don’t like Megas. All these things tend to depress and frighten them. And I showed all these things to Marlene. I took her out over the ocean and then, far enough out to show her Megas entirely above the horizon.”

“And?”

“And nothing bothered her. She said she got used to the red light, and it stopped looking so terribly red. The ocean didn’t in the least frighten her, and, most of all, she found Megas interesting and amusing.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“You must. It’s true.”

Insigna sank into thought, then said reluctantly,
“Maybe it’s a sign that she’s already infected with the—the—”

“With the Plague. I arranged for another brain scan as soon as we got back. We still haven’t got the complete analysis, but the preliminary inspection shows no change. The mind pattern changes markedly and noticeably even in a light case of the Plague. Marlene simply doesn’t have it. However, an interesting thought just occurred to me. We know that Marlene is perceptive, that she can note all sorts of little things. Feelings flow from others to her. But have you ever detected anything that might seem the reverse? Do feelings flow from her to others?”

“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“She knows when I’m uncertain and a little anxious, no matter how I try to hide the fact, or that I’m calm and unafraid. Is there any way, though, that she can force me or encourage me to become uncertain and a little anxious—or calm and unafraid? If she detects, can she also impose?”

Insigna stared at him. “I think that’s crazy!” she said, her voice choked in disbelief.

“Perhaps. But have you ever noticed that sort of
effect
with Marlene? Think about it.”

“I don’t have to think. I’ve never noticed any such thing.”

“No,” muttered Genarr, “I suppose you haven’t. She would certainly love to make you feel less nervous about herself, and she certainly fails to bring that about. However— It is true, though, if we just cling to Marlene’s perceptive ability, that it has strengthened since she has arrived on Erythro. Agreed?”

“Yes. Agreed.”

“But it’s more than that. She’s now strongly intuitive. She
knows
that she is immune to the Plague. She is
certain
that nothing on Erythro will harm her. She stared down at the ocean in convinced knowledge that the aircraft wouldn’t drop into it and drown her. Has she had this kind of attitude back on Rotor? Hasn’t she felt uncertain and insecure on Rotor when there was reason to feel so, just as any other youngster might?”

“Yes! Certainly.”

“But here she’s a new girl. Totally sure of herself. Why?”

“I don’t know why.”

“Is Erythro affecting her? No no, I mean nothing like the Plague. Is there some other effect? Something completely different? I’ll tell you why I ask. I felt it myself.”

“Felt what yourself?”

“A certain optimism about Erythro. I didn’t mind the desolation, or anything else. It’s not that I was desperately put off by it before, that Erythro made me seriously uneasy, but I never
liked
the planet. On this trip with Marlene, however, I came nearer to liking it than ever before in my ten years of residence here. It was possible, I thought, that Marlene’s delight was contagious, or that she might somehow be forcing it on me. Or else whatever it is about Erythro that is affecting her may be affecting me, too—in her presence.”

Insigna said sarcastically, “I think, Siever, that you had better have a brain scan yourself.”

Genarr raised his eyebrows. “Do you think I haven’t? I’ve undergone a check periodically ever since I’ve been here. There’ve been no changes except those inseparable from the aging process.”

“But have you checked your mind pattern since getting back from the plane trip?”

“Of course. First thing. I’m no fool. The complete analysis isn’t back yet, but the preliminary work shows no change.”

“Then what are you going to do next?”

“The logical thing. Marlene and I are going out of the Dome, and out upon Erythro’s surface.”

“No!”

“We’ll take precautions. I’ve been out there before.”

“You, perhaps,” said Insigna stubbornly. “Not she. Never she.”

Genarr sighed. He whirled in his chair, looking at the false window in the wall of his office as though he were trying to penetrate it and look out upon the redness beyond. Then he looked back at Insigna.

“Out there is a huge brand-new world,” he said, “one that belongs to no one and nothing except ourselves. We can take that world and develop it with all the lessons we’ve learned from our foolish mismanagement of our
original world. We can build a good world this time, a clean world, a decent world. We can get used to the redness. We can bring it to life with our own plants and animals. We can make sea and land flourish and start the planet on its own course of evolution.”

“And the Plague? What of that?”

“We might eliminate the Plague, and make Erythro ideal for us.”

“If we eliminate the heat and the gravity, and alter the chemical composition, we can make Megas ideal for us, too.”

“Yes, Eugenia, but you must admit that the Plague is in a different category from heat, gravity, and global chemistry.”

“But the Plague is just as deadly in its own way.”

“Eugenia, I think I’ve told you that Marlene is the most important person we have.”

“She certainly is to me.”

“To you, she’s important simply because she is your daughter. To the rest of us, she is important for what she can do.”

“What can she do? Interpret our body language? Play tricks?”

“She is convinced she is immune to the Plague. If she is, that might teach us—”

“
If
she is. It’s childish fantasy and you know it. Don’t grasp at cobwebs.”

“There’s a world out there, and I want it.”

“You sound like Pitt after all. For that world, will you risk my daughter?”

“In human history, much more has been risked for much less.”

“More shame to human history. And in any case, it’s up to me to decide. She’s my daughter.”

And Genarr said in a low voice that seemed to contain infinite sorrow, “I love you, Eugenia, but I lost you once. I have had this feeble dream of perhaps trying to undo that loss. But now I’m afraid I must lose you again, and permanently. Because, you see, I’m going to tell you that it’s not up to you to decide. It is not even up to me to decide. It is up to Marlene. Whatever she decides, she
will do, somehow. And because she may well have the ability to win humanity a world, I am going to help her do what she wants to do, despite
you
. Please, you must accept that, Eugenia.”

Crile Fisher studied the
Superluminal
with a frozen expression. It was the first time he had seen it, and a quick glance at Tessa Wendel made it quite plain that she was smiling with what he could only think of as proprietary pride.

It sat there in a huge cavern, inside a triple web of security barriers. There were human beings present, but most of the work force consisted of carefully computerized (nonhumanoid) robots.

Fisher had seen many spaceships in his time, and of a multiplicity of models used for a multiplicity of purposes, but he had never seen one like the
Superluminal
—never seen one as repulsive in appearance.

Had he seen it without knowing what it was, he might not have guessed, even, that it was a spaceship. What did he say then? On the one hand, he did not want to anger Wendel. On the other hand, she was clearly waiting for his opinion, and she just as clearly expected praise.

And so he said in a somewhat subdued voice, “It has an eerie kind of grace—rather wasplike.”

She had smiled at the phrase “eerie kind of grace,” and Fisher felt he had chosen well. But then she said, “What do you mean ‘wasplike,’ Crile?”

“It’s an insect I’m referring to,” said Crile. “I know you’re not aware of insects much on Adelia.”

“We know about insects,” said Wendel. “We may not have Earth’s chaotic profusion—”

“You probably don’t have wasps. Stinging insects, shaped rather like—” He pointed to the
Superluminal
. “They, too, have a large bulge in front, another bulge in back, and a narrow connecting unit.”

“Really?” She looked at the
Superluminal
with a sudden sparking of new interest. “Find me a picture of a wasp when you can. I might understand the ship design better in the light of the insect—or vice versa, for that matter.”

Fisher said, “Why the shape, then, if it wasn’t inspired by the wasp?”

“We had to find a geometry that would maximize the chance of the entire ship moving as a unit. The hyperfield has a tendency to extend outward cylindrically to infinity, actually, and you let it have its way, to some extent. On the other hand, you don’t want to give in entirely. You can’t, in fact, so you have to seal it off in the bulges. The field is just within the hull, maintained and enclosed by an intense and alternating electromagnetic field, and—you don’t really want to hear all this, do you?”