The World of Null-A

She watched his face as he started to ask his questions. Finally she sighed. She said, “I’m not going to tell you anything. The more you know, the more dangerous you are to the rest of us. Besides, there’s no time.”

“Oh, there isn’t!” Gosseyn spoke in exasperation. “I’m afraid that we’ll just have to make time. Let me see,” he continued. “There’s a problem of your relationship to Hardie. Let’s begin there.”

The young woman sat with her eyes closed. Without opening them, she began to speak. “I’m going to be very patient with you,” she said. “I’m going to tell you that the Distorter is still inside the Games Machine, where you sent it. And that we must have it. It is one of the few galactic devices within our reach. We need it for evidence.”

“My opinion,” said Gosseyn, “of a group that is permitting two planets to be taken over without once issuing a general warning is so low that it can hardly be put into words.” He stopped there. “Evidence?” he said.

She seemed not to hear the question. “You mustn’t be too harsh,” she said in a low voice. “We couldn’t stop the attack. A warning would simply have precipitated it. And, besides, warn whom? Venus has no government. Its detective, judicial, and communications systems are controlled by the gang. The warning would have had to be general, and Eldred and I have racked our brains wondering how to do it. His only solution is that there must be a better Machine built when this is all over. It can be done, you know. At the Semantics Institute they have constructed tubes in series around highly improved lie detectors that can examine the body and mind of a man at a glance and tell the degree of null-A training he has received. That will eliminate the ponderous games. And there are other improvements that would protect the Machine against the kind of interference to which it has been subjected.”

She paused, then went on: “Later, when you have rescued the Distorter, I’ll tell you much more. But now, listen! There is a young man here in the hotel who will help you. He is no agent of mine, but you will find out all about him when you read this note after I leave. He, not I, was the one who saved you from the hypno. Mind you, I was here in time to have saved you from the worst effect. But he did something that I couldn’t have done. Because of him, no one knows that you are in this hotel.

“And, Gilbert Gosseyn,”—she leaned forward; her eyes were a soft blue—“don’t be too impatient. I admit you’re being used roughly. But that’s because you’re out in the open. We have analyzed your position like this: You were brought out when the crisis was near. Thorson was startled, but I doubt if he intended to kill you. That was an accident. Then you reappeared in a second body, first at Prescott’s hospital and then at Eldred Crang’s tree house, both key points so far as the galactic empire is concerned.

“You can’t imagine what a shock that was. Thorson grew immensely cautious. Discovering the untrained nature of your extra brain, he allowed himself to be persuaded to release you. That was Eldred’s doing, but we didn’t know that Thorson agreed to it because his agents were actually on the point of finding your thud body. We still don’t know where it was found. The important thing for you is that now that your third body has been destroyed, you are again a wanted man.”

Gosseyn said, “Now that my third body has been what?”

For the first time since he had awakened, she looked startled.

“You mean, you don’t know?”she breathed. “You have no idea what’s been happening?” Her tone changed. “I can’t stop to tell you. Read the papers.” She stood up. “Remember, take the Distorter to the home of the young man downstairs. I’ll meet you there some time tomorrow.” She was fumbling in her purse. She drew out a key, tossed it onto the bed. “For the handcuffs,” she explained. “Good-by, and good luck.” The door closed behind her.

Gosseyn removed the handcuffs, and then he sat down firmly on the edge of the bed and thought, “What was she talking about?” He recalled that she had mentioned a note. His puzzled gaze, roving the room, touched the bureau to the right of the bed, behind him. A newspaper lay there, and a sheet of white paper. Gosseyn jumped for it across the bed. He read wonderingly:

Dear Mr. Gosseyn:

When I heard the news, I knew there would be a search for you. So I immediately destroyed the card showing you were registered in this hotel and substituted one for your room, 974, under the first name I could think of John Wentworth.

Then, after I was off duty, I let myself into your room with a passkey and found you lying there with that record going. I removed it, and recorded one of my own with the intention of counteracting all depressing effects.

I shut that off the last time I was up to look at you as I understand you can make someone light-headed by feeding him too much optimism. I hope that I struck a balance, as you’ll need all your good sense in the fight ahead.

This is written by one who intended to try the games next year, who places himself completely at your service, and who dares to sign himself,

With all best wishes,

Dan Lyttle

P. S. I’ll be up again when I go off duty at midnight. Meanwhile, read the morning paper. You’ll see then what I’m talking about.

D. L.

Gosseyn reached for the paper and unfolded it on the bed. The four-inch capitals of the headline glared up at him:

GAMES MACHINE

DESTROYED

Gosseyn, trembling with excitement, read by visual leaps that took in whole paragraphs:

. . . Fired at the palace and . . . simultaneously broadcast warnings about a mysterious attack against. . . Venus (No such attack . . . taken place. See Radio Exchange report, page 3). Authorities decided . . . insane . . . following so soon on assassination of President Hardie . . . evidence linking the Machine . . . accordingly destroyed.

For an hour . . . Machine broadcast . . . incomprehensible message to Gilbert Gosseyn, whose picture is reproduced elsewhere . . . this page . . . previously exonerated . . . To be picked up again for further questioning.