The World of Null-A

similar holes in this very tree, and therefore he would have to mark its location very carefully.

He had already noticed that there was a great meadow on one side of him-over the pit, perhaps. In the opposite direction was dense Venusian forest. Gosseyn picked out landmarks, and then started along the broad limb onto which he had emerged. About seventy-five yards from the bole it joined an equally massive limb of another tree. He felt a thrill as he saw it. There was a thalamic pleasure in tree running. The Venusians must indulge in it often for the sheer animal joy of it. He would remain aloft for about five miles, unless the forest ended first, and then—

He had proceeded about fifty feet along the limb when the bark under him collapsed. He fell down onto a floor. Instantly, the long trapdoor above him closed, and he was in darkness. Gosseyn scarcely noticed the absence of light. Because, as he hit the smooth floor, it tilted downward. Tilted sharply, fifty, sixty, seventy degrees. Gosseyn made one desperate leap upward. His fingers clawed against smooth wood, then slid off into emptiness. He hit the floor again, hard, and slid down that steep incline. It was not a long journey that he took then, not more than thirty feet. But its implications were bottomless. He was caught.

He had no intention of giving up. Even while he was still sliding, Gosseyn fought to get to his feet, fought to turn, to return before the floor could rise back into place out of his reach. He failed. In the very act of whirling, of flinging himself, he heard the click of the floor fitting itself into position above him. And still he did not pause. He jumped to the uttermost height that his strength would take him, and reached into the darkness with clawing fingers that groped only at air. This time he gathered himself for the fall and landed on his feet, balanced, conscious that if there was a way of escape he must find it within minutes. And yet, for a moment, he forced himself to stand still, to make the null-A cortical-thalamic pause, to think.

So far everything had seemed automatic. The section of tree limb had caved in because he had put his weight upon it. The floor had tilted for the same reason. The fact that such trapdoors existed was depressing. Alarms would be ringing. He’d have to find a way out before anybody came, or never!

He dropped to his knees, made a swinging but relaxed sweep of the floor. To his right, he touched a rug. He crawled over the rug and in seconds had fingered a chest of drawers, a table, an easy chair, and a bed. A bedroom! There’d be a light switch, perhaps a table lamp or bed light. His swift thought paused there, yielded to action.

The wall switch clicked under his fingers, and so, approximately three minutes after his first fall, he was able to see his prison.

It was not bad. There were twin beds, but they were in a large alcove of coral pink that opened onto a large living room at least as big, at least as luxurious, as the one in Crang’s apartment. The furniture had the glowing quality of fine wood beautifully finished. There were paintings on the walls, but Gosseyn did not pause to look at them because his restless gaze had lighted on a closed door. A sound came from it, a key clicking in the lock.

Gosseyn drew back, drawing his guns. As the door opened, he saw a robogun floating there. And the voice of Jim Thorson called out, “All right, Gosseyn, drop your weapons and submit to a search.”

There was nothing else to do. A moment later, after soldiers had come in and relieved him of his weapons, the gun drew back. And Jim Thorson came through the door.

XXVII

On a cliff of metal on the planet of beasts, the League, ambassador landed. He walked slowly over to the parapet of that vast building and stared uneasily down at the jungle four miles below.

“I suppose,” he thought, “I’ll be expected to go hunting with the”—he paused, searched for the right word, then grimly—“extroverts who build hunting lodges as big as this.”

A voice behind him murmured, “This way, Your Excellency. The hunting party will leave in an hour, and Enro the Red will confer with you en route.”

“Tell His Excellency, the foreign minister of the Greatest Empire,” the ambassador began firmly, “that I have just arrived, and that—”

He stopped, the refusal unspoken. No one, least of all League agents, turned down the invitations of the reigning overlord of an empire of sixty thousand star systems, especially when one’s purpose required considerable tact. The ambassador finished quietly, “—and that I will be ready in time.”

It was a bloodthirsty business. There were guns for each type of beast, carried by noiseless machines, one machine for each hunter. The robots were always at hand, holding out just the right weapon, yet they never got in the way. The most dangerous animals were held off by energy screens while the hunters maneuvered for firing position.

There was one long, sleek, powerful, hoofed animal, gray in color, which realized after one burst of effort that it was trapped. It sat down on its haunches and began to cry. Enro the Red himself put a bullet through its nearest eye. It pitched over and lay sobbing and writhing for a minute, then grew still. Afterward, on the way back to that gigantic combination hunting lodge and alternate foreign office, the red-haired giant came over to the League ambassador.

“Great sport, eh?” he growled. “Though I notice you didn’t shoot much.”

“This is my first time,” apologized the other. “I was fascinated.”

That was true enough, if you thought of it in a certain way. Fascinated, horrified, shocked, disgusted. He saw that the great man was staring at him sardonically.

“You League men are all the same,” Enro said. “A bunch of cowardl—” He stopped. He seemed to think better of his harsh indictment. “Peaceable!” he said.

“You must remember,” the ambassador said coolly, “that the League was organized by the nineteen galactic empires at a time when they were destroying each other in futile and indecisive wars. Peace is the trade of the League, and, like all institutions, it has gradually created men who actually think peace.”

“Sometimes,” said Enro proudly, “I believe I prefer war, however destructive.”

The League officer said nothing, and presently Enro ceased chewing on his lower lip and said curtly, “Well, what is it you wish?”

The ambassador began diplomatically, “We have recently discovered that your transportation ministry has been overzealous.”

“In what way?”

“The case to which I refer is that of a sun system called Sol by its dominant inhabitants.”

“The name does not strike a memory chord,” Enro said coldly.

The ambassador bowed. “It will undoubtedly be on record in your department, and the problem is very simple. A transit base was established there by your transport department about five hundred years ago without permission from the League. Sol is one of the systems discovered after the agreements were signed respecting the exploration and exploitation of new-found stars.”

“Hm-m!” The red one’s gaze was even more sardonic, and the ambassador thought, Enro did know about Sol! Enro said, “And are you going to give us permission to keep the base there?”

“It must be dismantled and removed,” the League man said firmly, “as prescribed by the articles of the League charter.”

“It seems a very minor affair,” said Enro thoughtfully. “Leave a memorandum with my transport secretary and I will have it looked into.”

“But the base will be dismantled?” said the ambassador determinedly.

Enro was cool. “Not necessarily. After all, if it’s been there a long time, it might cause considerable dislocation to the transport department to have it removed. If that is so, we will take the matter up with the League and seek confirmation of our position there. Such incidents are bound to happen in vast stellar organizations. They must be handled in a progressive and elastic fashion.”

It was the smaller man’s turn to be sardonic. “I’m sure Your Excellency would be the first to protest if some other empire accidentally added a star system to its possessions. The League attitude is very clear. Those who made the mistake must rectify it.”