one man alone. And one blast from a fire gun, one bullet could end it. But ahead of him, at the end of those incredible, unbelievable distances, were the means he needed to save Caster and to destroy the power of the Brothers forever. «When will we arrive.» An expression in terms of time he didn't understand. «In Earth days?» He frowned at the answer. Weeks. Almost a month, with Caster in the hands of the Brotherfuzz torturers. Saddened, he paced the small room. Perhaps he should go back, try to rescue Caster, then go to the home
system of these people and carry out his plan. But it was too risky. It came to this: Caster against the future of all the human beings on Earth. And the machines had talked of others like them, scattered on the outskirts of the galaxy on other Earth-like planets. Them, too. «Caster, Caster,» he said aloud. «Forgive me.» With some of the ship's computer system ruined, it was necessary for the girl, he thought of her as Blaze, after the rosy glow of her mind, to check navigation. He watched. He asked questions. She, impatient, feeling somewhat put upon to be called to do tasks usually handled automatically by the ship's system, told him that she was not in the business of education. When his quick anger seeped through his shield, she quickly suggested the educational potential of the system. He spent long days with the history of technology of the race being force-fed into his receptive mind. He encountered resistance, at first, but the machines were programmed to function on the command of any member of the race and his mind was now capable of giving orders. He spent long hours learning about the potential of the ancient computer system which was now largely idle and, as ideas solidified, he began to communicate with the base system on the planet known as A-l. «I need your help,» he told the distant mind, which, to him, seemed alive. I am programmed to protect and serve the race. «We are of the race.» You did not develop. «We can develop. I have developed.» This does not mean that all have the same potential. «It is there.» Proof? «There have always been those among us who showed the latent abilities.» Not always. Each exile was measured. «All right, not always. But in written history. There was a man known as Jesus who could raise the dead.» And Luke found himself, then, telling the old, old story as best he remembered. And there were others, evangelists, men of God who had healed. And there were the healing miracles in which a place became sacred in the memory of a saint and, the very memory of that saint having consecrated the ground, many people healed themselves with their own inner faith. Interesting, but I am a servant of the race. «You were built to serve an expanding race. You were built to help people the stars. You are now sterile, a great waste, idle. Your race is
static. You can serve the race with a small portion of your capacity. It is no task for a great system, a galactic system, to control the shipment of Trang once a year and to send the small ships from planet to planet during the commitment changes between the members of the race. And
yet, out there, there are countless stars, countless planets, waiting. And we have the people for them, people who desperately need the release of
stellar colonization. Wouldn't it be satisfying to you to be directing, once again, a great, outward movement instead of a minor shifting of people from bed to bed?» I am not programmed for emotion. «You are programmed for function. I'm giving you a chance to function.» My first responsibility is to the race. I could not actively encourage the emergence of a rival race who could pose a threat to the race. «From your own information I've learned of the richness of the universe. The race has occupied a vast empire at the heart of the galaxy.
But vast as that empire is, it covers only a minor portion of the total area. We could direct our expansion out ward. The fringe worlds alone would offer ample opportunity for a thousand years.» And after that? «God will guide us,» Luke said. Your dependence upon this God has interested me. In the early days of the race, they, too, believed in a supernatural being. Now there are few who even remember the name of this being, or imaginary being. There were those who said he would be found when our ships began crossing deep space. The movement into space was actually opposed by some who said we were trespassing on his domain. Adventurers who visited the exile planets seized upon your belief in a supernatural being to experiment and, for some, to merely have amusement. I have no proof of the existence of any force save natural ones. Yet, I do not understand why primitive people, universally, create some form of worship. The race has existed for—a time period—without dependence on a god. «And what has your race accomplished in this—time period?» You are saying that the rule of the universe is movement. That is not necessarily so, although in nature the rule holds true in the form of change, revolution. «I can only question. I can only ask why there is a universe. Why is there so much of it? Why are there planets capable of supporting human
life? What is the purpose of life? Is it accidental? I don't know. I know only
that the life of my people is a life of misery and that this misery could be eased. I can suggest that the original race set about accomplishing some purpose and did great things until they were—sidetracked—by Trang. I can suggest that it just might possibly be God's will that this purpose now be carried forward by the people of what you call the exile planets. Can you deny this possibility.'» I have insufficient data. «Are you prepared to destroy me'.'» I can destroy no life form unless it directly threatens a member of the race. «And if we arrange it so that there is no threat?» He voiced a plan. We will talk. The ship jumped past the outer fringes of the empire. The dense concentration of stars in the heartland of the galaxy made the recharging period brief. Then the home planet was below and Blaze was ecstatic. The landing was made under the supervision of the base computer. Informed that her presence was no longer required. Blaze departed. Within hours she was in her structure, Trang easing the frustrations of the long period in space, a new companion discovering that she was, indeed, one of the most accomplished, desirable women in the empire. She did not know that, days later, a vast fleet of huge ships lifted from various planets, rendezvoused outside the limits of the populated portion of the central galaxy, and then proceeded toward the fringe worlds. Only a few elders of the race, eager to return to commitments and Trang, saw the ships leaving, saw the vast, encircling curtain of deadly radiation spring up behind the departing fleet, a curtain which could not be penetrated by any living being. The secret of the protective curtain was locked inside the mind of the portion of the central computer which had been left behind. Aboard the fleet, other elements of the computer had been programmed, irrevocably, to consider the curtain a natural phenomenon which made the central galaxy forever off bounds for the new race. CHAPTER SIXTEEN Far away, people were dying. Thirty million perished during the first week of the rebellion against the Second Republic. The Brothers, alerted by the sobbing, agonized confessions of Irene Caster, broke out the fire-gun arsenal in panic and burned entire sections suspected of being nests of rebellion. In turn, as they fought for the things in which they believed, the underground devastated Brother areas with disease. The Republic of South American, seeing what it considered an opportunity, attacked the Second Republic from the south with conventional methods and with huge masses of troops. With the attention of the government diverted to the threat from outside, the underground survived and fought with biological and chemical weapons. Outside, in the cities, the people took sides, some of them attacking government troops—armed with propellant weapons and a few fire-guns—with sticks, rocks, their hands. A lone enemy missile streaked through defenses, evading the antimissile weapons. A radioactive cloud rose over a vast burned-out section of South City. The Brothers set fire cannon to work, advancing by ground down the connecting isthmus, devastating the countryside, razing the cities, and
millions died. Airborne fire raids on the southern continent left wide scars of smoking ruin. The intercontinental war lasted a month. It would take
longer for the Brothers to ferret out the last hiding places of the scientific rebels, but the outcome was inevitable. Under the frozen tundra of the northern reaches of the Republic, Colonel Ed Baxley, sickened by the slaughter, seeing the revolt failing, worked frantically to help the underground develop the fire weapon. He shared his knowledge and all the resources of the withering revolution went into the speedy manufacture of big fire cannon, which were deployed down the plains, taking unsuspecting government forces by surprise. But
the battle took its toll of life, both among the combatants and the civilian population. The government, having gained capitulation from the Republic of South American, turned it full fury on the advancing rebel army. Battle lines were drawn on the wide plains of the northwest. The chemical fire of the weapons chewed the earth, burned it, the very soil, slowly, but the feared spontaneous spread of the effects of the weapon were, fortunately, limited. However, the Brothers were slowly getting the upper hand through overwhelming force and superior fire power. After three days of advance and retreat through a heated, smoking devastation, the rebel forces were encircled by a ring of fire and the circle was slowly closing. Colonel Ed Baxley, commanding his second revolution, could see the
end. Around him, in the ever-closing circle, his weapons met fire with fire, barely holding back annihilation. Now and then an overstrained weapon failed with a spectacular explosion and each time a weapon failed the circle closed. Baxley had lived out of a ground car for weeks. He had not shaved for days. He had had three hours' sleep in thirty-six hours. His white uniform was soiled. Around him men walked as if they were already dead, zombies tired to the breaking point. He faced Dr. Zachary Wundt. Wundt, himself, was red-eyed, stubble-faced, weary with
