Diplomatic Immunity

arose an organizing principle. This principle, if I've got it right, sought to suppress the fundamental chaos, to make all things regular.

'But the chaos still boils out in spots, as Alfern found out. Perhaps the organizational pattern is weaker in space. Anyhow, those spots are dangerous, until the organizing principle gets to work on them.'

He turned to the panel. 'Okay, Harrison. Throw in the second disrupter.' The peaks and valleys altered on the graph. They started to mount in crazy, meaningless configurations.

'Take Darrig's message in the light of that. Chaos, we know, is underlying. Everything was formed out of it. The Gorgon Medusa was something that couldn't be looked upon. She turned men into stone, you recall, destroyed them. So, Darrig found a relationship between chaos and that which can't be looked upon. All with regard to the Ambassador, of course.'

'The Ambassador can't look upon chaos!' Malley cried.

'That's it. The Ambassador is capable of an infinite number of alterations and permutations. But something—the matrix—can't change, because then there would be nothing left. To destroy something as abstract as a pattern, we need a state in which no pattern is possible. A state of chaos.'

The third disrupter was thrown into circuit. The graph looked as if a drunken caterpillar had been sketching on it.

'Those disrupters are Harrison's idea,' Cercy said. 'I told him I wanted an electrical current with absolutely no coherent pattern. The disrupters are an extension of radio jamming. The first alters the electrical pattern. That's its purpose: to produce a state of patternlessness. The second tries to destroy the pattern left by the first; the third tries to destroy the pattern made by the first two. They're fed back then, and any remaining pattern is systematically destroyed in circuit ... I hope.'

'This is supposed to produce a state of chaos?' Malley asked, looking into the screen.

For a while there was only the whining of the machines and the crazy doodling of the graph. Then, in the middle of the Ambassador's room, a spot appeared. It wavered, shrunk, expanded—

What happened was indescribable. All they knew was that everything within the spot had disappeared.

'Switch it off' Cercy shouted. Harrison cut the switch.

The spot continued to grow.

'How is it we're able to look at it?' Malley asked, staring at the screen.

'The shield of Perseus, remember?' Cercy said. 'Using it as a mirror, he could look at Medusa.'

'It's still growing!' Malley shouted.

'There was a calculated risk in all this,' Cercy said. 'There's always the possibility that the chaos may go on, unchecked. If that happens, it won't matter much what—'

The spot stopped growing. Its edges wavered and rippled, and then it started to shrink.

'The organizing principle,' Cercy said, and collapsed into a chair.

'Any sign of the Ambassador?' he asked, in a few minutes.

The spot was still wavering. Then it was gone. Instantly there was an explosion. The steel walls buckled inward, but held. The screen went dead.

'The spot removed all the air from the room,' Cercy explained, 'as well as the furniture and the Ambassador.'

'He couldn't take it,' Malley said. 'No pattern can cohere, in a state of patternlessness. He's gone to join Alfern.'

Malley started to giggle. Cercy felt like joining him, but pulled himself together.

'Take it easy,' he said. 'We're not through yet.'

'Sure we are! The Ambassador—'

'Is out of the way. But there's still an alien fleet homing in on this region of space. A fleet so strong we couldn't scratch it with an H-bomb. They'll be looking for us.'

He stood up.

'Go home and get some sleep. Something tells me that tomorrow we're going to have to start figuring out some way of camouflaging a planet.'