Alfred van Vogt: The Players of Null-A

'I shall refer all these matters,' said Madrisol, to the proper experts, and decisions will be made. I presume there will be someone available and authorized to discuss the problem at your end.'

'I'll have the roboperator see to it that you talk to the, uh, properly constituted authorities here,' said Gosseyn, and suppressed a smile. There were no 'authorities' on Venus, but this was no time to go into the vast subject of Null-A voluntary democracy.

'Good-by and good luck.'

There was a click, and the intense face vanished from the plate. Gosseyn instructed the roboperator to switch all future calls from space to the Institute of Semantics in the nearest city, and broke the connection. He was reasonably satisfied. He had set another process in motion and, though he had no intention of waiting, at least he was doing what he could.

Next, Janasen—even if it meant going back to Earth.

In order to be sane and adjusted as a human being, an individual must realize that he cannot know all there is to know. It is not enough to understand this limitation intellectually; the understanding must be an orderly and conditioned process, 'unconscious' as well as 'conscious'. Such a conditioning is essential to the balanced pursuit of knowledge of the nature of matter and life.

The hour seemed late, and Janasen was not yet recovered from the surprise of having been snatched from the offices of the Institute of Emigration. He had not suspected the presence of a transport machine in his own office. The Follower must have other agents in this planetary system. He looked around him cautiously. He was in a dimly lighted park area. A waterfall cascaded from some invisible height beyond a clump of trees. The plume of spray glittered in the vague light.

The Follower stood partly silhouetted against the spray, but his formless body seemed to merge with the greater darkness on every side. The silence grew long, and Janasen fidgeted, but he knew better than to speak first. At last the Follower stirred, and drifted several feet nearer.

'I had difficulty adjusting myself,' he said. 'These intricate energy problems have always annoyed me, since I am not mechanically minded.'

Janasen held his silence. He had not expected an explanation, and he did not feel qualified to interpret the one he had received. He waited.

'We must take a chance,' said the Follower. 'I have followed my present course because I wish to isolate Gosseyn from those who could help him and, if necessary, destroy him. The plan that I have agreed to pursue in support of Enro the Red cannot be interfered with by a person of unknown potentialities.'

In the darkness, Janasen shrugged. For a moment, then, he wondered at his own indifference. For a moment there was a bright thought in his mind that there was something supernormal about a man like himself. The thought passed. It didn't matter what chance he took, or what were the unknown potentialities of his opponents. He didn't care. 'I'm a tool,' he told himself with pride. I serve a shadow master.'

He laughed wildly. For he was intoxicated with his own ego, and the things that he did and felt and thought. Janasen he had called himself because it was as close as he could get to his real name. David Janasen.

The Follower spoke again. 'There are curious blurs,' he said, 'in the future of this man Gosseyn, but pictures do come through . . . though no Predictor can get them clearly. Yet I am sure that he will seek you out. Do not try to prevent him. He will find that your name was on the list of passengers of the President Hardie. He will wonder that he did not see you, but at least it will indicate to him that you are now on Venus. At this moment we are in a park in downtown New Chicago '

'Huh!' Janasen glanced around in astonishment. But there were only the trees and shadow-like shrubs, and the hiss of the waterfall. Here and there in the darkness weak lights cast their pale glow, but there was no sign of a city.

‘These Venusian cities,' said the Follower, 'have no parallel elsewhere in the galaxy. They are differently arranged, differently planned. Everything is free: food, transport, shelter —everything.'

'Well, that makes things simple.'

'Not quite. The Venusians have become aware of the existence of human beings on the planets of other stars. Having been invaded once they are likely to take precautions. However, you'll have a week or so, during which time Gosseyn should discover you.'

'And when he does?' Janasen was interested.

'Have him come to your apartment and give him this.'

The thing tumbled out of the darkness glittering, as it fell, like a white flickering flame. It lay on the grass shining like a mirror in sunlight.

'It won't seem so bright in daytime,' said the Follower. 'Remember, it must be given to him in your room. Now, any questions?'

Janasen reached down gingerly and picked up the glowing object. It seemed to be a plastic card of some kind. It felt smooth and glassy. There was printing on it, which was too small for him to read with the naked eye.

'What is he supposed to do with this?'

'Read the message.'

Janasen frowned. 'And what will happen?'

'It is not necessary for you to know that. Just carry out my instructions.'

Janasen pondered that, and then scowled. 'You said a little while ago that we must take a chance. It looks to me as if I'm the only one who is taking any chances.'

'My Friend,' said the Follower in a steely tone, 'I assure you, you are wrong. But let us have no arguments. Any more questions?'

Actually, he told himself, he had never worried the slightest bit. 'No,' said Janasen.

There was silence. Then the Follower began to fade. It was impossible for Janasen to decide just when that fade-out was complete. But presently he knew that he was alone.

Gosseyn looked down at the 'card', then up at Janasen. The calmness of the man interested him because it provided an insight into the other's character. Janasen was a solipsist who had struck a balance with his neurosis by developing a compensatory attitude value, since again and again it would depend on whether other stronger men would tolerate his insolence.

The setting of their face-to-face meeting was colorfully Venusian. They sat in a room that opened onto a patio, with young flowering shrubs just outside. It was a room with all conveniences including automatic delivery of food, automatic table cooking devices, which dispensed with the necessity of having a kitchen.

Gosseyn studied the hollow-cheeked man with hostile gaze. The task of finding Janasen had not been too involved. A few interplanetary messages—not obstructed this time, a quick canvassing of hotel roboregisters, and here was the end of the trail.

It was Janasen who spoke first. The system on this planet sort of interests me. I can't get used to the idea of free food.'

Gosseyn said curtly, 'You'd better start talking. What I do to you depends entirely on how much you tell me.'

The clear, blue, unafraid eyes stared at him thoughtfully. 'I'll tell you everything I know,' Janasen said at last with a shrug, 'but not because of your threats. I just don't bother keeping secrets either about myself or anyone else.'

Gosseyn was prepared to believe that. This agent of the Follower would be fortunate to survive another five years, but during that time he would maintain his self-respect. He made no comment, however, and presently Janasen began to talk. He described his relations with the Follower. He seemed to be quite candid. He had been in the secret service of the Greatest Empire, and somehow he must have come to the attention of the shadow-shape. He proceeded to give a word for word account of his conversations with the Follower about Gosseyn. In the end he broke off, and returned to his earlier statement.