So now Dalen, having unintentionally worked himself into a spot where it was relegation for one or the other, gathered his energy. There was one way in which he felt positive that he could break through Mogar’s protection, even at this great distance. This was by way of the ninth-dimension elliptical spiral. Dalen had never used it, for it was prohibited to any god below the council, but if he could manipulate it into operation he could combine it with the sixth and his infinitely compounded power would be also infinitely squared.
There was one drawback. According to Dalen’s calculations, a combination of the sixth and the ninth would require an output on Dalen’s part of power to the extent of something like 8.4 times ten to the twentieth power macro-ergs-and that would be Dalen’s last effort. He would have to rest for a while after that. If it didn’t succeed, he reflected, there would be eternities to rest.
He concentrated his energy facilities and spiraled them to full power, sucking the last quantum of pure energy from every available atom, even stripping binding energy, and poured it all into his utilization of the two dimensions. Dalen was a young god and a strong god, and it was utterly inconceivable that any god could stand up against that enormous combination of power.
By now the entire IV Universe knew that he and Mogar were fighting it out. Tightness pervaded Dalen’s thought-force which was flung out along the edge of the galaxy. The mighty power of the two dimensions swirled together and lashed out across the interstellar void, gathering momentum as it traveled in ever-increasing spurts.
Perhaps the very first tongue of this energy touched Mogar, when unexpectedly his chuckle—a little forced, it seemed to Dalen—rolled back across the void. He said, as if amused:
“Where do you propose to hold this experiment?”
Dalen relaxed gratefully and allowed the controls to ease from his mind-centers. So Mogar had enough. Mogar had backed down. Only an old god of long seniority could do that without losing face, and also, Dalen understood, that was Mogar’s only way out. Dalen knew now that he would have broken through, and in a way he wished he had. It would have eliminated Mogar’s future unofficial opposition. But Mogar had chosen to break the deadlock, and that was Mogar’s right, so Dalen accepted the gesture.
“I intend to develop a new solar system, to be known as the XXXVI, out on the fringe of the galaxy, and attached for administrative purposes to my home Constellation Hercules. I will choose one of those planets, sire, to be populated.”
Mogar snorted so loudly it could be heard in the VIII Galaxy. “It will take you two billion years to get a biped. I say give the planet a shower of germanium isotope rays and everything but insects will kill themselves off quickly. Then in a few million years you will have an insect civilization to be proud of.”
But Dalen was firm in his answer. “No, sire. I believe the opposed-thumb biped may prove to be a very desirable life-form. This planet will be only one of ten quadrillion in the Milky Way Supergalaxy. I think it is not too extravagant to use it as an experiment. It is under the jurisdiction of my home constellation, sire,” he said pointedly.
Now Mogar grumbled, and a billion cubic parsecs of cosmic dust exploded before his ire and streamed into the vacuum of intergalactial space. “Very well, then. I withdraw my opposition. But you will see that I am right, and at next week’s meeting I shall expect a report from you on the outcome.”
“Yes, sire,” Dalen said respectfully. He turned in the space between two stars, and began traveling back toward Hercules. He felt now the astonishment in the minds of Lennat and the seven members of the council. Yes, Dalen was audacious. He was young and perhaps impetuous, to brave the wrath of a god like Mogar. Dalen knew now that the other members of the council felt as he did, that Mogar would go to any length to prevent Dalen’s success with the experiment.
Dalen resolved more firmly that it should succeed, but it was a heavy load that he bore as he made arrangements for two stars to meet in the outer void of the IX Galaxy. His realization of the difficulties ahead was lightened by only one thought: If he could create the race he wanted, he would be very proud. Even without Mogar’s opposition, the odds were heavy against him. The gods did not like to see their precedents broken.
But the one thought lightened Dalen’s mind: if he should succeed, he would be very proud. No doubt it would mean his elevation to the Supergalactic Conference and perhaps even to the Dioclave. So Dalen’s mind-force was busy with ideas and plans. In fact, he realized a little wryly, he was almost exuberant. He had even selected a name for his experimental species. He would call it “Man,” and by this time next week the entire Supergalaxy would know whether an opposed-thumb biped could be a desirable entity.
This was a good day’s work.
Colophon
Short Science Fiction
was compiled from short stories published between and by
Noel Loomis.
This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Jonathan Erdman,
and is based on transcriptions by
Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan, Sankar Viswanathan, Tom Trussel, and Distributed Proofreaders
for
Project Gutenberg
and on digital scans from
The Internet Archive.
The cover page is adapted from
Mammoth Hot Springs, Yellowstone,
a painting completed in by
Thomas Moran.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in and by
The League of Moveable Type.
The first edition of
