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knowledge. You'll be working in the dark."
"Isn't that the usual case?"
"It seems that way." They spoke for several moments longer before the
Overlord cut off. Samul sat unmoving for several minutes after his image faded
from the screen. So the aliens had come and gone, but to what purpose? To land
someone or something; Sol Houston could be quite correct on that surmise. But
if that were so, it indicated that the aliens, whatever their strength,
weren't prepared for open hostilities; their need of information revealed
that.
He walked to the window. Small aircars darted like birds among the graceful
towers piled against the pinkish-gray sky. He watched the scene
contemplatively. For generations the Terrans had marched through space,
carving an empire from the vast worlds of glittering suns. At times they had
halted, stagnated; but like buds of spring, they had blossomed anew to march
again.
It was inevitable that some day they would encounter another form of life
imbued with the same purpose. Could two interstellar races live side by side
in harmony, sharing the galaxy between them? Considering the bitter wars that
once had raged among humans of differing beliefs and skin color, he scarcely
believed it possible.
The aliens -- he pondered the term wryly. Somewhere across the Ebon
Deeps another life form, scrutinizing the humans, undoubtedly was branding
them as aliens. What did the term really mean? It meant, he reflected, that
form of life that was on the other side of the fence. He smiled ruefully at
the task in hand.
As Sol Houston had predicted, he would be walking in the dark.
5
TORN BETWEEN expectation and despair. Danny clenched his fists desperately as
he projected his thoughts into the void. For two days, to no avail, Zandro had
been guiding his efforts in the mental attempt to span the
starless deeps to that distant world where people like himself lived. Tommy
One, Tommy Two, Tommy Three...Altogether there were six Tommies who would
answer him, tell him all the wonderful things he wanted to know, if only he
could make contact.
"Tommy One? Can you hear me?" Danny rubbed his eyes, aware he was perspiring
as he listened into the void. The silence was awesome. "Tommy One, Tommy
One..."
"You are not maintaining total concentration," Zandro cut in. His voice came
into Danny's mind in a quiet aside. "Fragments of your thoughts are
elsewhere."
"They're not," he cried crossly.
"You are too excited," Zandro counseled patiently. "Remember, you have to
quell all emotion, subdue all physical response."
"Perhaps they're not listening," Danny objected. He felt his despair well
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anew. "You said that..."
"They're always listening," Zandro replied enigmatically.
"Then why don't you call them, tell them what to say?"
"No!"
"But perhaps if you contacted them once..."
"No!" This time the denial was cold and final.
Undaunted, Danny cried, "But why not? You can do it. You had to talk to
someone or you wouldn't know about the Tommies."
A long silence ensued before Zandro replied, "I can't talk with them, Danny."
"Can't?" He was stunned.
"Their minds are different."
"But they're like mine," he objected. "You said that yourself."
"Yes."
"And you can talk with me."
"Here on Wenda, yes, but not over a great distance." Zandro's answer held a
defeated note.
"Then how did you know about the Tommies?"
"You are trying to learn too much at once," Zandro replied. "All this is quite
distracting to you."
"But..."
"Do you want me to teach you to talk to your friends?" Zandro interrupted. "If
so, you'll have to learn to concentrate."
"I'm trying," he answered desperately.
"You have to shut out the meadow, the sky, your awareness of yourself,
everything -- focus your entire mind on making contact."
"I will," he promised hurriedly.
"And you will have to stop being emotional."
"I'll try." Danny closed his eyes to eliminate the distraction of the
landscape and concentrated. With the view shut out, he became aware of the
posture of his body and one by one relaxed his muscles, feeling the tension
subside.
"Tommy One, this is Danny. Can you hear me, Tommy One?" Listening with his
mind, he became conscious of the gurgling of the stream and shut his ears to
it. "Tommy One..." He sent out the call again.
"Tommy One..." The response, like a faint echo from somewhere deep in his
brain, jolted him. For an instant he thought the words had been his own, then
realized they had come in answer to his call.
"This is Danny," he cried eagerly. "Can you hear me?"
"I...hear you."
"Tommy One can hear me," he exclaimed joyfully. The moment he'd uttered the
words he knew he'd broken the contact, but he didn't care; he'd projected his
thoughts across the void! Hurtling the starless depths, they'd reached a
being like himself. Oh, the wonder of it!
"Tommy One, can you hear me?" This time there was only silence, vast and
muted, deeper than the silence of the forest when the wind was stilled.
"You broke the contact," Zandro reproved.
"But I reached him, I reached him. He heard me!"
"You have to keep practicing."
"I will, I will."
"It will take awhile before you really learn to project your thoughts over
such a great distance," Zandro warned. "It's not like talking to me. It's a
matter of control."
"Control?"
"Establishing absolute mastery over your mind."
"Shall I try Tommy Two?"
"It doesn't make much difference which one you try," Zandro explained.
"Once you learn to establish contact, you can talk with one as well as with
another."
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"I want to talk to all of them," he cried eagerly.
"In time, Danny."
"I'm going to try again."
"Rest your mind. We will try again tomorrow."
"But I'm not tired," he protested.
"Tomorrow," Zandro answered with finality. "And don't practice when you're by
yourself. You can cause more harm than good."
"Please," he begged. But even as he asked, he felt the silence. Zandro had
withdrawn. He stared indecisively at the sky, feeling elated. His mind had
hurtled that gulf; he'd talked with a boy just like himself. Tommy One wasn't
his real name, of course. Zandro had explained that the name "Tommy" and the
designations "One" through "Six" were simple codes to aid in identifying one
from another and to make communication easier. He didn't care; talking with
them was all that mattered.
Why couldn't he try to contact them when Zandro wasn't present? He pondered it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]