The Return of Nathan Brazil

“Welcome again to Nautilus,” she repeated in the pleasant, professional tones of an old-hand tour guide. “This world, the only known product of the cooperation among private interests of alien creatures, exists for your comfort and pleasure. It is a resort free from pressures and fears. Feel free to come and go as you like, to wander our fields and woods, to fish our streams—to jump into a fountain if that suits you.”

They chuckled at the last, as they always did, and she continued.

“Shops and stores here are for your convenience; no tax collectors will spoil your leisure. We have fitness programs, sporting courts, restaurants, clubs and lounges, and even a gambling casino for your enjoyment. Everything on Nautilus is designed to help you enjoy the money you have spent and will spend here. Maps are to be found in every guest room.”

A furry hand made as if it were pawing the air, the Gramanch version of raising a hand. She nodded, recognizing the man.

“What is ‘Nautilus’?” he asked curiously. “It is not a word that I’ve ever heard.”

Sri Khat’s mouth formed a toothy Gramanchian grin. “Nautilus is an alien word, of course,” she told them. “In the legends of a long-dead alien race it was the name of a fantastic pirate ship.”

They laughed again at that, for there was a joke in it. Their bank accounts would be far lighter when they left this place.

Another pawing. “Yes?”

“We’ve heard rumors that you can do wonders—arrest aging, cure even the most severe illnesses. Is that true?”

“It is true that we have certain curative methods,” the hostess acknowledged. “As you may know, we accept a large number of seriously ill people every day for treatment inour special wards, and we don’t charge for it. Our success rate is quite good with terminally ill patients. Of course, you are helping pay for the service by spending your money on Nautilus, so if you drop a bundle in the casino you can at least console yourself that your loss helped save someone else’s life.”

They liked that touch. It was also good for business.

“May we see where this is done?” another asked.

A head signaled the negative. “I’m afraid not, for several reasons. First, our space is limited—the medical work is done inside this world, far from here. Second, we cannot maintain a sterile environment if people other than the staff and patients continually troop through. And, finally, how would you like to be terribly ill and find yourself a tourist attraction in your own hospital bed?”

They accepted that.

Soon they were off to their rooms, settled in, and had their first gourmet meal.

Sri Khat relaxed in her private office and looked over the passenger list. It was a good bunch. Three corporation presidents, two in heavy industry with Important political connections, plus one Vice Premier. A good batch.

This was a delicate business, but a rewarding one. The Gramanch had expanded peacefully but that was ending now. They were breeding too fast, consuming too greedily, their nine colonies were getting crowded—and they had counted. Some of the alien races with whom they shared their region of space outnumbered them five or even ten to one. The Gramanch were technologically superior to any of the others, without doubt, but they were competing with other races for the same types of planets and finding very few. An expand-or-be-damned attitude, based only on the uneasy realization of who outnumbered whom, was spreading through the ruling circles. Paranoia had inspired a mind set that would lead inevitably to aggression and conquest. The Gramanch refused to limit their population because other races outnumbered theirs; yet they could not support the population explosion their paranoia was creating.

That was the mission of the Nautilus this time: an exclusive resort with a wonderful reputation gained through free miracle cures and word of mouth, attracted the wealthiest and most powerful. Change those minds, and, perhaps, a disastrous future could be prevented.

Sri Khat was still sitting, relaxed, when Nautilus seemed to shudder. A momentary loss of power caused lights to flicker and small objects to fall over. The effect was something like that of a mild earthquake; but no such thing could possibly happen here.

She was on the intercom in a second. “Attention all personnel! Calm guests as first priority. Damage Control, see to any problems Topside! All hands stand by!” She flipped a switch anxiously. “Obie! What the hell happened?”

“I—I don’t quite know,” a shaky tenor replied. “One moment all was going well, then, suddenly, I felt a stabbing pain, a real wrenching pain! It caused me momentarily to lose control!”

“You’re a machine, damn it! You can’t feel pain!”

“That’s what I thought,” the massive computer who was Nautilus replied, “but—it was horrible! I can still feel it!”

Khat was thinking fast. “Are you damaged? Did something blow?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I’ve already performed a complete maintenance check. The source is external.” He was calming down, anyway. How many times had she gone through similar things with the computer, calming and soothing him—it was impossible to think of Obie as an “it”? The most sophisticated computer complex known save one, Obie often behaved like a child crying in the night.

That didn’t mean, though, that the situation wasn’t serious. Obie was frightened only because so great a computer normally so much in control now faced something outside his experience. To be reminded that you are neither totally in control nor omnipotent can shatter your confidence.

“Analysis, Obie. What caused it?”

“No way to tell,” he responded, sounding more assured. “It was not a local disturbance. It was not, in fact, anywhere in this galaxy, I think. I—I’m very much afraid that something might have happened to the Well of Souls computer. I experienced a double impact, one much stronger than the other, but from two directions. One would indicate the Well, the other is from somewhere in the neighborhood of the Milky Way galaxy. I’m afraid something terrible has happened—first because the impact was instantaneous, despite the distances, which rules out anything except the fabric of space—time, our very reality; and second because I can still feel it. I think we’d better drop this project for now and investigate.”

Sri Khat agreed. “We don’t want to shock or disrupt anybody, though. We’ll have to manufacture failures of our own, refund everybody’s money and send the Gramanch home. Then we can announce to our agents planetside that we’ve had mechanical problems and will have to go off for a complete overhaul. That should take care of it.”

“But that’ll take several days!” Obie protested.

“Nevertheless, we have a responsibility,” she reminded him. “And we want an orderly withdrawal or we’ll fuel their paranoia as you’ve never imagined when we go.”

Obie emitted a very human sigh. “Well, you’re the captain.”

“You bet your sweet metallic ass I am,” Mavra Chang replied.

In Orbit Off the Well World

It was a strange and solitary solar system; even Obie was not very clear on where it was located. He simply allowed himself to be drawn there along the massive energy force fields radiating from it to all parts of the Universe.

The system itself didn’t amount to much—a medium-yellow G-type star of no special attributes except that it should have burnt itself out billions of years earlier and burnt in fact at a precise, constant rate; some asteroids and planetoids of no consequence or interest; a few comets and other such natural debris; a lone planet circling the star at about one hundred and fifty million kilometers out in a perfect circle.

Beyond the perfection of its orbit, the planet itself was extraordinary. Not huge, not imposing, it shimmered and glistened like a fantastic Christmas-tree bulb, perfectly round, with a dark band around its center. Its period of rotation was a little over twenty-eight hours, standard, and it had no axial tilt.

The two hemispheres defined by that dark band were quite different, although both north and south