Alfred van Vogt - The Players of Null-A

Gosseyn first stated one of his lesser purposes. 'Know anything about training extra brains?' he asked. It was the first time he had mentioned the word to Crang.

The slim man's fine, yellow-tinged eyes studied him thoughtfully. Then he smiled. 'A little. What is it you want to know?'

'It's a problem of time, I think,' said Gosseyn. The first photograph is too slow, somehow. Slower than a chemical photographic plate, and the most complex of electronic tubes are chain lightning compared to it.'

Crang nodded, and said, 'It's notorious that specialized machines can perform any particular function much faster and frequently better than a given human appendage or organ. That is the price of our virtually unlimited adaptability.'

Gosseyn said quickly, 'You think the problem unsolvable?' The other shook his head. 'It's a matter of degree. It's possible the original training followed a wrong pattern, and that a different approach might bring better results.'

Gosseyn knew what Crang meant. A pianist who learned the wrong system of fingering could not become a virtuoso until he laboriously taught himself the proper method. The human brain and body as a whole could be educated to achieve results in many different ways. Some of those ways were heartbreaking in the results they achieved, and some were so remarkable that the ordinary individual who had been properly conditioned came to be regarded as a genius.

The question was, how could his understanding of that general truth be utilized to re-train his extra brain when he returned to his own body?

I would say,' said Crang, 'that it's a matter of setting up correct ideas.'

They talked around that for a while. For the moment Gosseyn was not worried about what Enro might hear. Even if the dictator could tune out the almost upending vibration of sound from Nirene and Patricia, this part of the conversation would not mean anything to him.

He lost none of his caution, but he was preoccupied with a desire to find out what the nature of such an idea would be. Crang made several suggestions, but it seemed to Gosseyn that the non-Aristotelian detective was still striving to estimate the extent of Ashargin's knowledge.

That decided him finally. He turned the conversation to the problem of possession of one mind by another. He pointed out that it might be done by an extra brain, and that the similarization process involved could be a contact on a high level between a full grown extra brain and the vestigial of such a brain present in all human beings. Thus the greater would still come to the lesser.

Crang was watchful. 'What puzzles me,' he said, 'is what would the extra brain be doing while it was in possession of the vestigial? Would it dominate both bodies at the same time, or would the greater be in a state of relaxation?' 'Relaxation, definitely,' said Gosseyn. It was a point he had been wanting to put over, and he was pleased. In spite of handicaps, he had managed to inform Crang that the Gosseyn body was unconscious.

Since Crang already knew that Gosseyn was aboard the Y-381907, his picture of the situation must be clearing up considerably.

'There was a time,' Gosseyn went on, 'when I took it for granted that such a position could only be maintained by some third party enforcing the interchange. It seems hard to believe'—he hesitated—'that the Sleeping God would leave his mind in a body so circumscribed as that of Ashargin if he had a way of preventing it.'

He hoped Crang got the point that Gilbert Gosseyn was not actually in control of his own destiny.

'And, of course,' he went on, 'Ashargin is only a puppet who has now done about as much as he can.' 'I wouldn't say that,' said Crang, deliberately. So abruptly did they arrive at the main purpose of their intent and cautious interchange.

At least, Gosseyn reflected as he eyed the other, it was his main purpose. Crang's position in all this frankly puzzled him. The man seemed to be doing nothing. He had taken the risk—the terrific risk in view of what he had done on Venus—of coming to Enro's headquarters. And now here he sat day after day, doing nothing.

His plan, if he had any, would have to be important indeed to justify his inaction while the battle of the Sixth Decant moved relentlessly to a final decision.

Crang resumed briskly: 'As I see it, Prince, these mystical discussions can only lead so far. There comes a time when men act. Now, Enro is an outstanding example of a man of action. A military genius of the first order. His like will not be seen again in the galaxy for centuries.'

It was strange praise, coming from the lips of Eldred Crang. And since it was false to facts—any Venusian Null-A trained in military tactics could equal Enro's 'genius' —it obviously had a purpose.

He shifted Nirene to a more comfortable position on his lap, and started to settle back.

At that moment he saw the opportunity for himself in what Crang had said. He interposed quickly:

'It seems to me that men like yourself will leave their mark on the military history of the galaxy. It should be interesting to follow the developments, and to know something about them.'

Crang laughed. 'Time will tell,' he said, and changed the subject. He went on, 'It's unfortunate that Enro is not yet recognized as the greatest military genius who ever lived.'

Gosseyn nodded glumly. He recognized that something was coming. But his own question had been evaded. He was positive that Crang had understood what he had tried to say.

And he won't answer, he thought grimly. Well, if he's really got a plan, it had better be good.

'I feel sure,' said Crang, 'that after his death even the people of the League group will recognize and acclaim the consummate skill of the attack that is being launched against the central powers.'

And now Gosseyn saw the plan. 'Greatest ... who had lived.' 'After his death——'

Crang was proposing that an attempt be made to kill Enro.

After a moment Gosseyn was amazed. There was a time when the idea of using Ashargin to kill Enro had seemed the only possible use to which so powerless an individual could be put. All that was changed. The Ashargin heir had already been used to influence billions of people. He was known to be alive. At the proper moment his influence might be decisive.

To sacrifice him now in an attempt to assassinate the dictator was comparable to throwing away a queen in a game of chess. Even at that moment he had thought of it as a sacrifice. Now, with what he knew of Enro, he felt convinced that Ashargin would give up his life futilely.

Besides, the death of Enro would not stop the fleet. Paleol was there, gaunt and grim and determined. Paleol, and his thousands of officers who had put themselves beyond the laws of the League, would seize control of the Government against any group that tried to take over the Greatest Empire.

Of course, if Ashargin were killed while trying to murder Enro, presumably Gilbert Gosseyn would be back in control of his own body. For him, who was still convinced that he would be able to return normally, that was something to consider a week hence. And—just in case—-the plan could be started now. Preparations ought to be made.

Grudgingly, with many reservations, Gosseyn nodded his acceptance of the plot.

That ended the evening. He had expected that details would be discussed, but Crang stood up and said, 'We've had a pleasant and amiable talk. I'm glad you were able to drop in.'

At the door the Null-A detective added, 'You might try to imitate the reflex that makes for good vision.'

It was a possible method of training that had already occurred to Gosseyn. He nodded. 'Good night,' he said curtly.

His impression of the visit as he walked with a silent Nirene back to her apartment was one of intense disappointment