Alfred van Vogt: The Players of Null-A

Gosseyn hesitated. He was disappointed, but still the situation was not entirely adverse. Crang had left the solar system connected with the vast interstellar videophone organization. It was a tremendous opportunity for the Venusians, and it gave Gosseyn a personal thrill to imagine what they could do with it. Another question formed in his mind. The answer of the roboperator was prompt:

'It would take a ship about four hours to come here from Gela 30, which is the nearest base.'

It was a point Gosseyn was very much interested in. 'I thought Distorter transport was virtually instantaneous.'

‘There is a margin of error in the transport of matter, although the traveler has no physical awareness of it. To him it appears to be an instantaneous process.'

Gosseyn nodded. He could understand that to some extent. Twenty decimal similarity was not perfect. He continued, 'Suppose I made a call to Gela. Would it take eight hours to get a message back?'

'Oh, no. The margin of error on the electronic level is infinitesimally small. The error to Gela would be about one-fifth of a second. Only matter is slow.'

'I see,' said Gosseyn. 'You can talk right across the galaxy with scarcely any delay.'

'That is right.'

'But suppose I wanted to talk to someone who didn't speak my language?'

'There is no problem. A robot translates sentence by sentence in as colloquial a manner as possible.'

Gosseyn wasn't sure about there being no problem in such a verbal transference. Part of the Null-A approach to reality had to do with the importance of word-word relationships. Words were subtle, and frequently had little connection with the facts they were supposed to represent. He could imagine innumerable mix-ups between galactic citizens who did not speak each other's languages. Since the galactic empires did not teach Null-A, or practice it, they were apparently unaware of the dangers of misunderstanding implicit in the process of intercommunication through robots.

The important thing was to be aware of the problem from moment to moment. Gosseyn said, That's all, thank you!' and broke the connection.

He arrived presently in the tree apartment which he had shared with Patricia Hardie while they were both prisoners of Thorson. He looked for a message that might have been left for him, a more complete and personal account than could be entrusted to the videophone exchange. He found several transcribed conversations between Patricia and Crang —and had what he wanted.

The references to Patricia's identity did not surprise him. He had always hesitated to accept her statements about her personal life, even though she had proved trustworthy in the fight against Thorson. The information that the great war in space had started shocked him. He shook his head to the suggestion that they would return for him in a 'few months'. Too long by far. But the gathering awareness that he was cut off in an isolated sun system made him sharply attentive to the rather complete account of the effort Crang had made to get in touch with him on Earth.

Janasen was responsible, of course. Gosseyn sighed with understanding. But what was the matter with the man, that he had taken it upon himself to frustrate one individual whom he did not know? Personal dislike? Could be. Stranger things had happened. But, on reflection, it seemed to Gosseyn that that was not the explanation.

More thoughtfully, he played over what Crang had said about possible hidden players and his danger from them. It was oddly convincing, and it directed his thought back to Janasen like a beacon.

The man was his starting point. Somebody had moved Janasen onto the 'board', perhaps only for a fleeting moment of universe time, perhaps only for a fleeting purpose, a mere pawn in this great game—but pawns, also, were looked after. Pawns came from somewhere and, when they were human, returned whence they came. There was probably no time to waste.

Yet, even as he accepted the logic of that, another purpose grew in Gosseyn's mind. He considered a few of the possibilities, then sat down at the apartment communicator, and made his call. When the roboperator asked him what star he wanted, he said, 'Give me the highest official available at the head offices of the Galactic League.'

'Who shall I say is calling?'

Gosseyn gave his name, and then settled down to wait. His plan was simple. Neither Crang nor Patricia Hardie would have been able to advise the League as to what had happened in the solar system. It was a chance that neither could have taken without grave risks. But the League, or at least a tiny division of it, had exerted its weak influence in an attempt to save Venus from Euro, and Patricia Hardie had stated that its permanent officials were interested in Null-A from an educational viewpoint. Gosseyn could see many advantages in making the contact. The roboperator's voice interrupted his thought:

'Madrisol, the secretary of the League, will speak to you.'

The words were scarcely uttered when a lean, intense face image grew onto the videoplate. The man seemed about forty-five years old, and many passions were written on his face. His blue eyes darted over Gosseyn's face. At last, apparently satisfied, Madrisol's lips moved in speech. There was a short delay, and then: 'Gilbert Gosseyn?'

The robot translator's tone had a query in it. If it was a reasonably exact representation of the original, then it was a remarkable job. Who, the tone suggested, was Gilbert Gosseyn?

That was one point that Gosseyn didn't discuss in any kind of detail. He kept his account to events in the solar system 'in which I have reason to believe the League has interested itself. Yet even as he was speaking he had a sense of disappointment. He had expected a measure of Null-A appearance in the permanent secretary general of the League, but this man's face showed him to be a thalamic type individual. Emotions would rule him. Most of his actions and decisions would be reactions based upon emotional 'sets', and not upon Null-A cortical-thalamic processes.

He was describing the possibilities of using Venusians in the battle against Enro, when Madrisol interrupted both his train of thought and his narrative.

'You're suggesting,' he said pointedly, that the League States establish transport communication with the solar system, and permit trained Null-As to direct the League side of the war.'

Gosseyn bit his lip. He took it for granted that Venusians would achieve the highest positions in a short time, but thalamic individuals mustn't be allowed to suspect that. Once the process started, they'd be surprised at the swiftness with which men of Null-A, who had come originally from Earth, would attain the highest positions which they felt it necessary to achieve.

Now, he mustered a bleak, humorless smile, and said, 'Naturally, Null-A men would be of assistance in a technical capacity.'

Madrisol frowned. ‘It would be difficult,’ he said. The solar system is hemmed in by star systems dominated by the Greatest Empire. If we attempted to break through, it might seem as if we attached some special importance to Venus, in which case Enro might destroy your planets. However, I will take the matter up with the proper officials, and you may be sure that what can be done will be. But now, if you please ———- ‘

It was dismissal. Gosseyn said quickly:

'Your excellency, surely some subtle, arrangement can be made. Small ships could slip through, and take a few thousand of the most highly trained men out where they could be of assistance.'

‘Possibly, possibly’—Madrisol looked impatient, and the mechanical translator made his voice sound the same way—‘but I’ll take that up with ——‘

'Here on Venus,' Gosseyn urged, 'we have an intact distorter ship transmitter capable of handling spaceships ten thousand feet long. Perhaps your people could make use of that. Perhaps you could give me some idea as to how long such a transmitter remains similarized with transmitters on other stars.'