Alfred van Vogt - The Players of Null-A

As he sat up, more intent now, Gosseyn saw that that was the scene. Three cells in a concrete room, three windows, one in each cell, at least fifteen feet above the floor, no doors. His summing up stopped short. No doors? Like a flash, he ran his gaze along the walls searching for cracks in the cement. There were none.

Quickly, he went over the bars that separated his cell from the woman's. Quickly, he memorized a portion of the floor of his own cell, then of hers, and then of the cell of the sleeping colossus. Finally, he tried to similarize himself back to one of his safety points on Venus.

Nothing happened. Gosseyn accepted the implications. Between distant points there was a time lag, and in this case the twenty-six hour period during which a memorized area remained similarizable had been used up. Venus must be immensely far away.

He was about to make a more detailed survey of his prison when once more he grew aware of the woman. This time his attention held. His first fleeting impression had been of someone whose appearance was very distinctive. Now, with measured glance, he saw that his picture was correct.

The woman was not tall, but she held herself with an air of unconscious superiority. Unconscious; that was the telling reality. What the conscious mind of an individual thought was important only insofar as it reflected or helped to anchor the set of the nervous system. The only comparison Gosseyn could think of was Patricia Hardie, who so surprisingly had turned out to be the sister of the mighty Enro. She also had that pride in her eyes, that automatic, innate conviction of superiority—different from the Null-A trained Venusians, whose dominant characteristic of complete adequateness seemed part of their body and their faces.

Like Patricia, the stranger was a grande dame . Her pride was of position and rank, of manners and—something else. Gosseyn stared at her with narrowed eyes. Her face showed that she acted and thought thalamically, but then, so did Enro and Secoh, and so had virtually every individual in history before the development of Null-A.

Emotional people could build up their talents along one or two channels, and achieve as greatly as any Null-A Venusian in a particular field. Null-A was the system of integrating the human nervous system. Its greatest values were social and personal.

The important thing about assessing this woman was that, as he studied her, the extra component of the neural vibrations that flowed from her seemed to take on greater proportions with each passing moment.

She was dark-haired, with a head that seemed a shade too large for her body, and she returned his gaze with a faint, puzzled, anxious yet supercilious smile.

'I can see,' she said uneasily, 'why the Follower has taken an interest in you.' She hesitated. 'Perhaps you and I could escape together.'

'Escape?' echoed Gosseyn, and looked at her with steady eyes. He was astonished that she spoke English, but the explanation of that could wait while he gained more vital information.

The woman sighed, then shrugged. The Follower is afraid of you. Therefore this cell cannot be quite as much of a prison to you as it is to me. Or am I wrong?'

Gosseyn didn't answer that, but he felt grim. Her analysis was wrong. He was as completely a prisoner as she was. Without an outside point to which he could similarize himself, without a power socket before his eyes to memorize, he had no resources.

He studied the woman with a faint frown. As a fellow prisoner, she was, theoretically, an ally. As a lady of quality, and, possibly, an inhabitant of this planet, she might be very valuable to him. The trouble was that she was very likely an agent of the Follower. And yet, he had a conviction that a fast decision was needed here.

The woman said, 'The Follower has Been in here three times wondering why you didn't wake up when you first arrived more than two days ago. Have you any idea?’

Gosseyn smiled. The idea that he would be giving out information struck him as naïve. He was not going to tell any one that he had been in the body of Ashargin, although surely the Follower, who had put him there ———

He stopped. He felt himself grow taut. He thought, almost blankly, But that would mean ———

He shook his head in wonder, and then stood in blank amazement. If the Follower had lost control of him, that would indicate the existence of still another being of enormous power. Not that that was out of the question. He must never forget his theory. Somewhere out here were the players of this mighty game, and even a queen, such as he had estimated himself to be, could be moved or forced, checked and endangered, or even taken and removed from the board.

He parted his lips to speak, but restrained himself. His slightest word would be noted and analyzed by one of the sharp and dangerous minds of the Galaxy. He pondered for a moment, and came back to his own first question.

Aloud, he said, 'Escape?'

The woman was sighing. 'It seems incredible,' she said. 'A man whose movements cannot be predicted. Up to a point, I have a clear picture of what you're going to do, then, because one of those actions is without logic, I get only blur.'

Gosseyn said, 'You can read the future—like the Follower?' He was intent. He walked to the bars, separating their two cells, and stared down at her in fascination. 'How is it done?' Who is this Follower who has the appearance of a shadow?'

The woman laughed. It was a slightly tolerant laugh, but it had a musical note in it that was pleasing to the ear. The laughter ended.

'You're in the Follower's Retreat, of course,' she said, and frowned. I don't understand you,' she complained. 'And your questions. Are you trying to mislead me? Who is the Follower? Why, everyone knows that the Follower is an ordinary Predictor who discovered how to put himself out of phase.'

There was an interruption. The giant in the third cell stirred on his cot, and sat up. He stared at Gosseyn.

'Get over to your bunk,' he said in a bass voice. 'And don't let me catch you talking to Leej again. Now, get!'

Gosseyn did not move, simply watched the other with curious eyes.

The stranger climbed to his feet, and came over to the bars of his cell. On the cot he had looked like a giant. Now, for the first time, Gosseyn realized how big the man really was. He towered. He spread. He was seven and a half feet tall, and as broad as a gorilla. Gosseyn estimated his chest at eighty inches.

He was taken aback. He had never seen such an enormous man before. The giant exuded abnormal physical power. For the first time in his life, Gosseyn felt himself in the presence of an untrained individual whose sheer muscular strength visibly exceeded the possibilities of a normal Null-A.

'Better back down fast,' the monster said in a menacing voice. 'The Follower told me she's mine, and I don't intend to have any competition.'

Gosseyn glanced questioningly toward the woman, but she had lain down with her face to the wall. He faced the giant again.

'What planet is this?' he asked conversationally.

His tone must have been right, because the giant lost some of his belligerence.

'Planet?' he said. 'What do you mean?'

That was startling. Gosseyn, whose mind had leaped ahead, devising other questions, teetered and came back. Was it possible that he was in another isolated planetary system similar to that of Sol? The probability shook him.

The name of your sun?' he urged. 'Surely, you have a name for it. It must have been assigned a recognition symbol in the galactic nomenclature.'

The other's mood chilled visibly. His blue eyes misted with suspicion. 'What are you trying to pull off?' he asked roughly.

Gosseyn said grimly, 'Don't try to pretend that you don't know the planets of other suns are inhabited by human beings.'