Thirty-Two

Straightforwardness.

Morton’s duplicate somewhere inside Marriott’s brain said aloud, “Captain, I have just this minute mind-brothered with you. I’d like to talk to you.”

There was a long pause after he spoke the greeting. During the pause, Morton was able to observe that the group of guerrillas and the two Irsk who carried the stretcher with Isolina on it, and Marriott, were walking along at the bottom of a cliff. Marriott, as it quickly developed, brought up the rear.

The physicist was quick. He slowed. He fell back several steps then said in a low voice, “What do you want?”

“Is there any way,” Morton asked, “that we can work together and defeat the—” he hesitated over the word but only for a few seconds, “Mahala System? You saw the fireworks just now, didn’t you?”

Immediate astonishing reaction. Marriott’s lips quivered. Tears came into his eyes. Startling to feel another man’s emotions so directly. But Morton felt them, and they were disconcertingly intense.

“We’re all in extreme danger,” Marriott whispered. “What we saw is only a tiny sample. Diamondia is about to become a shambles. The Earth federation forces will be exterminated. The Diamondian people are on the verge of being killed to the last man, woman and child. And even the Irsk may not survive. I can’t at this moment explain why it’s holding back at all, but I know that the only hope we have is if I can get back the control I lost to you.”

To Morton it sounded like an attempt to overwhelm him. But unfortunately it also felt like truth. He addressed Marriott again. “Why don’t we have a discussion? The other night I said I was open to helping you. Maybe we can bypass that election and just give control back to you. Can we? I’m willing. Will the Irsk permit it?”

Marriott laughed, a sharp, barking laugh of disdain. Amazing the instant change of emotion in the man, from deep terror to cynicism.

Marriott said arrogantly, “They never had any say in my original control. And if you mean it—and if we can work out a method of return whereby you don’t learn what my control system was—then they’ll have no say now.”

As he heard those words and that tone, Morton had a thought about Marriott, not for the first time: This is not an easy man to like… But obviously that mustn’t be a factor. In a crisis, mere personality madness was immaterial. He had in his time found many able men hard to take. But every one of them had at the decisive moment been on the side of the human race.

So there was no second choice, really. Marriott it had to be. “Consider it settled,” Morton said hurriedly. “But tell me, since you’re so dangerous to it, why didn’t the darkness destroy you after you were deposed?”

“You don’t understand,” was the reply. “It’s logical within its frame. I’m not dangerous to it now. Besides, I’m always connected to the Corapo defense, so I don’t believe it has ever thought of attacking me. Then, too, it has a hard time killing anyone by selection. It deals in large groups, not individuals. It probably knows where all the cities are, and it will first wreck all buildings with iron and steel in them—which is just about every house and structure on the planet. Then it will continuously stir up rock that has iron in it… If you can, picture walking along an open countryside and suddenly the ground under you, with you on it, is jerked up a hundred feet. That’s what we saw. There was an enormous electrical discharge when that happened.”

His voice, as he spoke, was hoarse. He seemed to have forgotten his companions a short distance ahead. It was too loud. He was overheard. The nearest Irsk slowed and turned. The large, misty blue eyes stared at Marriott. Then: “Oh, somebody’s mind-brothering with you.” The guerrilla was tolerant. “Can’t you just whisper your replies like the rest of us do?”

The dyl turned without waiting for an answer and glided on.

Marriott said in a low voice, “We’re very close to the ship. Where’s your body?” When Morton hesitated, the physicist urged, “I’ve got to know where you are for what I’m going to do.”

Morton temporized, “Suppose I tell you when you’re ready.”

The other man agreed at once. “But that means you’ve got to stay with me, so that I can communicate with you at a moment’s notice.”

The requirement startled Morton. Because it had the black and white characteristic of a puzzle. He thought: Really, everywhere I look the puzzle aspect continues…

Truth was, he could think of no other place where he ought to be or go. He did want to talk briefly to Isolina as soon as he could figure out a way to help her. But that was all.

On that basis, with that one reservation, he agreed.

And missed a momentous meeting.