Part 11 (1/2)

Then an incredible thing happened. The Irwadi opened his mouth to scream. His face froze. He lost his air. His face bloated.

And he died.

Ramsey couldn't believe his eyes.

It was not possible to die from lack of air or from cold on a world without the time continuum. Ramsey, Vardin and Margot had proved that by venturing out without protection.

But the Irwadi had died.

Mental suggestion?

Because he thought he would die?

Because that was the only way you could perish on a world lacking in the time dimension--by your own thoughts?

The second s.p.a.ce-suited figure closed with Ramsey awkwardly. Ramsey hit him. The man of Irwadi fell, his helmet cracked, he tried to scream--and died.

The third man fled.

Ramsey ran after Margot. ”Wait!” he cried. He couldn't talk to her about his fantastic vision. It was personal. She wouldn't understand. Mystic experience always is like that. And yet, with the conviction that only a mystic can have--although he certainly was no mystic--Ramsey knew the galaxy would be in grave trouble if mankind were given the secret of matter-transmission.

A voice said: ”You are right.”

It was Vardin's voice, and Vardin went on:

”Ramsey, stop her. I can't stop her. It is only granted that I observe--and convince, if I can. I am not a Vegan girl. I am--”

Ramsey said it. ”Proto-man!”

”There aren't many of us left. We discovered matter-transmission. We used it once, to people the worlds of the galaxy. It was our final creative effort. We merely observe now, unable to destroy our creation, trying to keep it out of mankind's hands. You see--”

”Then back on Irwadi you knew all along we would come here!”

”I was vouchsafed the vision, yes. Even as you--stop her, Ramsey. You must stop her!”

Ramsey sprinted forward. Margot was nearing the black coffin now.

Ramsey ran at her, and tackled her.

They went down together, the girl fighting like a tigress, tooth and nail, wildly, sobbing, striking out at Ramsey with small impotent fists, until he subdued her. Panting, they glared at each other.

And could not stop Garr Symm from running past them, eyes rapt behind the plastigla.s.s of his helmet, and jumping into the black box.

”To the end of the universe and back!” he cried. ”Take me there and back. Instantly. Prove to me that you work! Now....” His voice trailed off. He had addressed the black rectangle almost as if it were something alive.

Ramsey thought he heard a growl from the box. He stood before it, looking in. The hackles rose on his neck.

”You see,” Vardin said. ”My ancestors and yours discovered the power of a G.o.d--and did not understand it. We were incorporeal. We created life--your ancestors. We patterned it to fit the evolution of the three thousand worlds. Human life. Millions of them, colonists for the worlds of normal s.p.a.ce. We were tampering in our tragic pride, Ramsey, with forces we would never comprehend.

”We colonized the worlds, deciding that physical existence, along with the mental prowess we had, was the ideal state. A few of us, like myself, or my ancestors if you wish, although the purely mental lives continuously--a few of us stayed behind and saw--the loss of a million years!”