A. van Vogt - The Empire of Isher

Slowly, she emerged from her dark mood. Her party, she saw, was clear now of the muttering repair machines, and was moving along the wrecked corridor. Her mind withdrew further from itself, grew more intent on her surroundings. She thought: the important thing was to find out what had happened, then act. Frowning from her new purpose, she examined the mutilated walls of the hallway. Her green eyes flashed. She said with a semblance of her old sardonicism, “From the slant of the ray burns, our side seems to have done all the damage, except for the initial breach in the main wall.”

One of the officers nodded grimly. “They were after Captain Hedrock only. They used a peculiar paralyzing ray that toppled our soldiers over like ninepins. The men are still recovering with no harmful effects visible, much as General Grall did after Captain Hedrock seemed to cause him to die from heart failure at lunch two months ago.”

“But what happened?” she demanded sharply. “Bring me someone who saw everything. Was Captain Hedrock asleep when the attack came?”

“No—” The officer spoke cautiously. “No, Your Majesty, he was down in the tombs.”

“Where?”

The soldier looked unhappy. “Your Majesty, as soon as you and your party left the palace, Captain Hed…your censor—”

She said impatiently, “Call him Prince Hedrock, please.”

“Thank you, Majesty. Prince Hedrock went down in the tombs to one of the old storerooms, removed part of one wall—”

“He what? But go on!”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Naturally, in view of his new position, our guards gave him every assistance in removing the section of metal wall and transporting it to the elevators, and up to this corridor.”

“Naturally.”

“The soldiers who reported to me said the wall section was weightless but it offered some quality of innate resistance to movement. It was about two feet wide and six and a half feet long; and when Cap…Prince Hedrock stepped through it and vanished, and then came back, it—”

“When he what? Colonel, what are you talking about?”

The officer bowed. “I regret my confusion, Madame. I did not see all of this, but I have pieced together varied accounts. My mind of course persists in regarding as more important what I myself saw. I actually saw him enter the detached wall shield, disappear, and return a minute later.”

The Empress stood there, her mind almost a blank. She knew she would get the story eventually, but right now it seemed beyond her reach, buried deep in a muddle of phrases that had no meaning in themselves. Captain Hedrock had gone to the tombs deep below the palace, removed a section of wall, and then what?

She put the question incisively; and the colonel said, “And then, Your Majesty, he brought it up to the palace proper and stood waiting.”

“This was before the attack?”

The officer shook his head. “During it. He was still in the tombs when the wall was breached by the concentrated fire of the Weapon Shop warships. I warned him personally in my capacity of chief of the palace guards of what was happening. The warning only made him speed his return to the surface, where he was captured.”

Briefly again she felt helpless. The description seemed clear enough now. But it made no sense. Hedrock must have known something was going to happen, because he had gone purposely down into the tombs immediately after her own departure to meet Edward Gonish. That part was all right. It seemed to indicate a plan. The strange thing was that he had come up and, right before the eyes of the Weapon Shop forces and the palace guards, had apparently used the wall section to transmit himself somewhere, as the Weapon Makers were reputed to be able to do. But, instead of staying away, he had come back. Insanely, he had come back, and permitted the Weapon Makers to take him prisoner.

She said finally, hopelessly, “What happened to the section of wall?”

“It burned up right after Prince Hedrock warned the Weapon Shop councilor, Peter Cadron, who led the attackers.”

“Warned—” She turned to del Curtin. “Prince, perhaps you can obtain a coherent story. I’m lost.”

The prince said quietly, “We’re all tired, Your Majesty. Colonel Nison has been up all night.” He turned to the flushing officer. “Colonel, as I understand it, guns from Weapon Shop warships breached the gap in the outer wall at the end of the corridor. Then one of the ships drew alongside, and sent men into the corridor, men who were immune to the fire of our troops—is that right?”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“They were led by Peter Cadron of the Weapon Makers’ Council, and when they reached a certain point in the corridor, there was Prince Hedrock standing waiting. He had brought some kind of electronic plate or shield, six feet by two feet, from a hiding-place in the tombs. He stood beside it, waited until everybody could see his action, then stepped into the plate, vanishing as he did so.

“The plate continued to stand there, apparently held in place from the other side; this would account for the resistance it offered when the soldiers carried it up from the tombs for Prince Hedrock. A minute after his disappearance, Prince Hedrock stepped back out of the shield and, facing the Weapon Shop men, warned Peter Cadron.”

“That is correct, sir.”

“What was the warning?”

The officer said steadily, “He asked Councilor Cadron if he recalled the Weapon Shop laws forbidding any interference, for any reason, with the seat of Imperial Government, and warned him that the entire Weapon Shop Council would regret its high-handed action, and that it would be taught to remember that it is but one of two facets of Isher civilization.”

“He said thatl” Her voice was eager, her eyes ablaze. She whirled on del Curtin. “Prince, did you hear that?”

The prince bowed, then turned back to Colonel Nison.

“My last question is this: In your opinion did Prince Hedrock give any evidence of being able to fulfill his threat against the Weapon Makers?”

“None, sir. I could have shot him myself from where I stood. Physically he was, and I presume it, completely in their power.”

“Thank you,” said the prince. “That is all.”

There remained the fact that she must rescue Captain Hedrock. She paced up and down, up and down. Dawn came, a gray muggy light that peered through the huge windows of her office apartment shedding vague pools of light in its shadowy corners, and making no impression at all where there were artificial lights. She saw that Prince del Curtin was watching her anxiously. She slowed her rapid pacing, and said, “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that Captain Hedrock would say things out of bravado. It is possible that there exists some organization of which we know nothing. In fact—” She faced him wildly. “Prince,” she said in an intense voice, “he told me that he was not, never had been, never would be a Weapon Shop man.”

Del Curtin was frowning. “Innelda,” he said pityingly, “you are exciting yourself uselessly. There can’t be anything. Human beings, being what they are, sooner or later manifest any power they may have. That is a law as fixed as Einsteinian gravitation. If such an organization existed, we would have known of it.”

“We have missed the clues. Don’t you see?” Her voice trembled with the desperation of her thought. “He came to marry me. And he won there. That shows the caliber of the organization. And what about the section of wall that he removed from the storeroom in the tombs—how did that get there? Explain that.”

“Surely,” said the prince in a stately voice, “the Ishers cannot but be mortal enemies of any secret organization that may exist!”