explained to me. The diagram shows the universe expanding, then contracting again as it reaches its maximum growth and then falls back. It is at that point at the end of the final contraction, when the Big Bang has been replaced by the Big Crunch, that the eschaton will occur.
'You see, the message that picture tried to convey is true- that part of it, at least. But one part of it was a lie. It was sent to you by the Horch, in order to deceive you. It is the Horch, not our friends from space, who want to dominate the eschaton. And they are ruthless enough to subjugate or destroy every living thing that stands in their way.
'That is all I have to say to you at this time, except for one thing. It is now up to you, the people of Earth, to decide whether you want to invite our friends to come to Earth. If you do, they will display for you all the proofs I have mentioned. They will do more than that for you if you wish; they will give you freely of their immense store of knowledge.
'However, first you must, of course, have time to think all this over. Then I will speak to you again, and tell you what they propose. Until then, au revoir.'
The figure went to black. Slowly Dannerman removed the helmet. 'Wow,' he said, and handed the helmet to Delasquez. Obviously everyone who had already seen the new message was burning to have something to say about it, but they managed to keep quiet until Jimmy Lin, at the bottom of the list, had his turn.
Then they all began to talk at once. 'What a load of bullshit,' Jimmy Lin said scornfully. 'Heaven, for Christ's sake!' And Martin complained:
'It is blasphemous to talk of Heaven in that way!' And Patsy began:
'Yes, sure, but-listen, Dan-Dan, ever since I heard it there's something I've been trying to remember. Pat? Patrice? Didn't we have something in college about-'
But by then Dannerman knew what he had to do. 'Hold it!' he ordered. 'All of you! Don't say another word.'
That was more than Martin Delasquez could stand. He said angrily, 'Who are you to be giving us orders, Dannerman? I have had enough of being bossed around by you!'
But Rosaleen put her hand placatingly on his arm. He was fuming, but he listened to her. 'Please, Martin,' she said. 'I'm sure Dan has a reason for this. Let's listen to what he has to say.'
Martin looked darkly suspicious, Jimmy Lin looked only hostile, but both of them kept quiet. So did the Pats, waiting while Dannerman thought out what to do.
After a moment he nodded, satisfied. 'Here's the point,' he said. 'Evidently Dopey wants information again. He must think we have some, or he wouldn't go to this trouble, and I guess we do. But let's not give it away.'
He raised a hand to prevent questions, then turned and faced the mirror wall, just as Jimmy Lin had done earlier. 'Dopey,' he called. 'You hear us. None of us is going to say or write another word about that message until you agree to our terms. If you want us to tell you everything we know or think-I mean tell you out loud; no more secrets; we'll talk it over in your presence, and you can ask as many questions as you like-if that's what you want, then come here and let's talk. But it's going to cost you, because this time we aren't going to do it for nothing!'
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Patsy
The Dr. Patrice Adcock they were calling 'Patsy' (she was willing to answer to that name, because she didn't have any choice about it, but she never ever thought of herself that way) was angry. She sat Buddha-like, her legs tucked into the lotus position, glowering at the world. She knew she shouldn't be angry. She conceded to herself that Dan-Dan had some reason for ordering them to be quiet, and she supposed those orders might make sense. Why should you give away what you might be able to sell? All the same, she wasn't used to being told what she could or could not talk about.
What she was bursting to talk about was that whole 'eschaton' business. It was right on the tip of her tongue, if only she could compare notes with Pat and Patrice to goose her memory along. That ancient and ill-recalled episode had been a very minor item in her education, no more than a grace note in some course she had taken for easy credits. She could almost see the face of the professor who had talked about it. It was the young dark one with the bedroom eyes-what was his name?- and he hadn't called it the eschaton. Something like-oh, yes. The 'Omega Point.' Whatever that was supposed to be. But she was pretty sure that it was precisely the thing that Colonel du-Valier had been blathering about in the message on the helmet.
Farther than that, however, her unaided memory would not take her.
It was perfectly obvious to her that everybody else was dying to talk it out, too. Well, of course they were. Was it even remotely possible that this notion of eternal life ten-to-the-zillionth years in the future could be real? Or that some hideous creatures from outer space might be doing their best to turn that eternal heaven into some kind of perpetual hell?
The whole thing was ridiculous.
The other thing about it was that it was also, just possibly, quite true.
In any case, she couldn't help thinking about it, and neither could any of the other six captives. It put a damper on all other subjects for conversation. The seven of them did their chores, completing Rosaleen's inventory, cooking and eating their meals, using the 'latrine' when there was no way to avoid it; but what they were thinking about was this eschaton thing. If only Dopey would show up! Then maybe Dan could work out some kind of deal with him and then they could all talk freely, and maybe scratch that burning itch to hash the subject out.
But Dopey didn't show; and time wore on.
As she was beginning to get sleepy she said something about Dopey's absence to Pat, who had nothing useful to say in return. 'How would I know why he doesn't come? Maybe that power glitch is screwing things up for him.'
'Well, sure, but there must be something else going on. It couldn't be just the glitch; he got that new duValier message out to us after that happened, didn't he?'
'Beats the hell out of me,' Pat said irritably. 'Anyway, maybe we're not supposed to talk about that, either.'
Pat wasn't the only one who was short-tempered. Everybody was getting antsy under the burden of Dan's rule of custody of the mouth. Then, when they were all getting sleepy, Pat didn't join Patrice and herself. Instead she nestled up next to Dannerman again, just as before; evidently his silence was now understood and thus forgiven. And as Patrice was settling herself down she glanced at the two of them, and then whispered to Patsy, 'What's she got to be pissed off about?'
It was a fair enough question. Pat had Dan-Dan, and what did the other two of them have?
There was certainly some jealousy there. There was also quite a lot of sisterly (or sort-of-sisterly) loyalty. To be fair about it, Patsy thought justly as she drifted off to sleep, you couldn't really say that Pat actually had Dan- Dan. Not in the total lack of personal seclusion that was their present condition. Patsy wondered drowsily if they could talk Dopey into giving them a few more of the helmets, because if everybody but Pat and Dan were wearing a helmet there would be at least the illusion of privacy while they got each other, as they were obviously yearning to do. Or maybe she and Patrice could patch together some of the blankets from Starlab and make a kind of a screen to hide the lovers as they went to it. Or-
Or maybe somehow, miraculously, the U.S. cavalry would come charging over the hill with bugles blowing and pennons flying, and wonderfully carry them back home; and then the two of them could do whatever they damn pleased… and so could she, with whoever was handy… and…
And then the world would be fine again, but none of that was actually going to happen. The cavalry wasn't really coming to rescue them, was it? Their future was very uncertain but definitely dark-if the seven of them turned out to have any real future at all-and when Patsy finally did succeed in falling asleep there were tears on her cheeks.
