The Invincible

vehicles began to move and drove noisily up the ramp. Lights came on at the elevator; gradually the small crowd waiting down below dwindled. Rohan was one of the last to take the elevator up. With him were the heavily laden Arctanes, whose imperturbable calm irritated him to an irrational degree. Inside the spacecraft, the telephones and informators rang constantly; the walls were still lit up by alarm signals for the physicians.

Soon the warning lamps went out, the corridors were empty. Part of the crew went down to the mess hall. Rohan heard snatches of conversation in passageways and the sounds of steps disappearing in the distance. A tardy Arctane stomped toward the robot section.

Finally they all had dispersed. Rut Rohan remained as if paralyzed, utterly despairing of ever comprehending the scene he had just witnessed, for it came to him in a flash of insight that there simply was no explanation and could never be one.”

“Rohan!”

Gaarb stood before him, wrenching him back to reality.

“Oh, it’s you, doctor! Did you see it too? Who in the world was that?”

“Kertelen.”

“What? I can’t believe it!”

“I saw him almost until the end.”

“The end?”

“Yes. I was with him,” said Gaarb, his voice unnaturally quiet. Rohan saw the reflections of the hall lamps in Gaarb’s glasses.

“Was that with the expedition that went to the desert?” Rohan wanted to know.

“Yes.”

“And what happened to him?”

“Gallagher had picked that spot according to his seismographic probes. We penetrated a labyrinth of narrow, winding canyons.” Gaarb spoke haltingly, as if he were talking to himself and wanted to visualize once more the exact course of events. “Soft, washed-out rock of organic origin, full of grottoes and caves. We had to leave our trucks behind… We walked in single file, keeping close together. Eleven men. The ferrometers indicated the presence of large masses of iron. That was what we were looking for. Kertelen thought some kind of machines might be hidden there.”

“Yes. He told me something about that. And then?”

“In one of the caves he found a machine, under a surface layer of mud. In the same cave we even found some stalactites and stalagmites.”

“So you discovered a machine.”

“Not the kind you would imagine. It was a wreck. Not in the least rusty — it must have been constructed of some rustproof alloy — but the thing was corroded, half burned, nothing but a wreck.”

“Perhaps there are others as well —?”

“But this machine was at least three hundred thousand years old!”

“How do you know?”

“We found deposits of limestone from the water that had dripped down from the stalactites on the ceiling. Gallagher himself calculated the approximate age of three hundred thousand years by figuring the rate of evaporation, the time it would take for a stalagmite of a certain size to form. By the way, can you imagine what the machine looked like? Almost like the ruins!”

“Then it’s not a computer?”

“No. It must have been mobile, but it didn’t have two legs. And it wasn’t like a crab, either. Besides, we didn’t have time to make a thorough examination, because just then…”

“What happened?”

“I made a count of my crew at regular intervals. In fact, I stayed back in the energy field in order to watch them — you know about the commander’s orders. But they were all wearing masks, and consequently they all looked alike, especially since their colored protective suits were completely caked with mud. Suddenly I was one man short. I called them together and we began our search. Kertelen had been so pleased about his find; apparently he had continued his search alone. I simply assumed he had lost his way in one of the side gullies. The canyon is full of detours, all short, level and well lit. Suddenly he came around the corner. He was already in that state. Nygren was with us. At first he thought it was a heat stroke.”

“And what is it?”

“He’s unconscious. That is, not exactly. He can walk, move every part of his body; but it’s impossible to communicate with him. He’s also lost the power of speech. Did you hear his voice?”

“Yes, I did.”

“He seems to have calmed down somewhat — it was much worse before. He didn’t recognize any of us. This struck us as the most horrible thing at first. I tried calling out to him, ‘Kertelen, where are you?’ But he walked by me, as if he were completely deaf, went straight through our group and then up the canyon in such a manner that we all got gooseflesh. He was totally changed. He didn’t react to our calls, so we had to catch him — you can’t imagine what a job that was. Finally we were forced to tie him up; otherwise we would never have been able to transport him back to the base.”

“And what do the doctors say?”

“They spout Latin phrases, as usual, but they don’t know anything either. Nygren and Sax are in with the commander. You can find out more from them.”

Gaarb walked away heavily, his head bent to one side as usual. Rohan stepped into the elevator to get to the command center. The room was empty, but as he passed by the cartographical cabins, he could hear Sax’s voice coming through the door that was slightly ajar. He entered the room.

“Total amnesia. At least that’s what it looks like,” the neuro-physiologist was saying. He had his back turned to Rohan and examined an X-ray picture he held in his hand. The astrogator sat at his desk, the open log book in front of him. His hand rested on one of the bookshelves packed tightly with rolled-up star maps. He remained silent as Sax slowly put the X-ray film back into a brown manila envelope.

“Amnesia, but this is a special case. Not only does he not remember who he is, but he has also lost the ability to read, write and speak. What we’re faced with here is complete disintegration, total destruction of personality. Nothing has been retained except for primitive reflexes. He is capable of walking, and he can eat, but only if someone puts the food into his mouth. He won’t reject it, but — ”

“Can he see and hear?”

“Yes, he can. But he doesn’t understand what it is he sees. He cannot distinguish between people and objects.”

“And his reflexes?”

“Normal. Only his brain has been affected. Apparentently all traces of his memory have been wiped out with one stroke.”

“Then the man from the Condor was also — ”

“Yes. Now I am sure of it. It was the same thing.”

“I’ve seen one other case like this,” whispered the astrogator. He looked in the direction of Rohan but did not seem to notice him. “That was out in space.”

“Oh, yes, of course! Why didn’t I think of it before?” exclaimed the neurophysiologist in a high voice. “Amnesia due to a magnetic shock, wasn’t that it?”

“Yes.”

“I never saw a case of it. I’m only familiar with it through the literature. Didn’t that happen a long time ago when strong magnetic fields were used to fly at high speeds?”

“Yes. That is to say, only under specific conditions. The intensity of the field is far less important than the gradient and the intensity of the change. Nowadays, if large gradients occur in space — and occasionally we encounter some pretty stiff ones — then our gauges will register them at great distances. This could not be done in the old days.”

“True,” concurred the physician. “That’s quite right. Ammerhatten made similar experiments with dogs and cats. He exposed them to enormous magnetic fields until they lost their memory.”

“Yes, it had to do with the brain’s response to electrical stimuli.”

“But in this case we not only have Gaarb’s report. We’ve got confirmation from his men as well.” Sax was