A. van Vogt - The Empire of Isher

“The Ishers,” said the woman icily, “are learning that they are human beings as well as rulers, and that the world is a big place, too big for one mind or group of minds to comprehend in its entirety.”

They stared at each other, two people whose nerves were frayed to the utmost. It was the Empress who recovered first. She said wearily, “It seems incredible, Prince, that you and I who have been almost truly brother and sister, should be on the verge of a quarrel. I’m sorry.”

She came forward and placed her hand on his. He took it and kissed it. There were tears in his eyes as he straightened. “Your Majesty,” he said huskily, “I beg your forgiveness. I should have remembered the strain you are undergoing. You have but to command me. We have power. A billion men will spring to arms at your command. We can threaten the Weapon Makers with a generation of war. We can destroy any man who has dealings with them. We can—”

She shook her head hopelessly. “My dear, you do not realize what you are saying. This is an age that would normally be revolutionary. The necessary disorganized mental outlook exists. The evils are there: selfish administration, corrupt courts, and rapacious industry. Every class contributes its own brand of amoral and immoral attributes, which are beyond the control of any individual. Life itself is in the driver’s seat; we are only passengers. So far our marvelous science, the immensity of machine production, the intricate and superb organization of law, and”—she hesitated, then went on reluctantly—“the existence of the Weapon Makers as a stabilizing influence, have prevented an open explosion. But for a generation at least, we mustn’t rock the boat. I am counting particularly upon a new method of mind training recently released by the Weapon Shops, which strengthens moral function as well as performing everything that other methods are noted for. As soon as we get rid of the menace of the giant organization we—”

She stopped because of the startled expression that flashed into the prince’s lean face. Her eyes widened. She whispered, “It’s impossible. He… can’t be… the giant. Wait… Wait, don’t do anything. We can prove it all in a minute—”

She crossed swiftly to her personal ’stat, said in a tired, flat voice, “Bring the prisoner, Edward Gonish, to my office.”

For five minutes she stood almost unmoving until the door opened and Gonish was ushered in. The guards departed on her command. She relaxed sufficiently then to ask the questions.

The No-man answered her steadily. “I do not understand the electronic shield through which you say he disappeared, but yes, Your Majesty, Captain Hedrock is one of the giants, or”—he hesitated, then added slowly—“or, and this thought has just come, the giant.”

The significance of the hesitation was not lost on her. She swayed wearily. “But why should he want to marry the woman whose empire he is trying to ruin?”

“Madam”—Gonish spoke quietly—“it was only two months ago that we discovered Captain Hedrock was deceiving the Weapon Shops. It was the accidental disclosure of his remarkably superior intelligence that proved him to be a man to whom the Isher line and the Weapon Makers are but a means to an end. What that end is, I am only beginning to suspect. If you will answer a few questions, I shall be able to tell you in a few minutes who Captain Hedrock is, or rather, was! I say ‘was’ of necessity. I regret to say that the intention of the Weapon Makers was to question him in a specially constructed chamber; then immediately execute him.”

Silence settled over the room. Actually, the capacity of her body for shock was gone. She stood, cold and numb, without thought, waiting. She noticed finally, absently, that the No-man was an extremely distinguished-looking individual. She studied him, and then forgot his personal appearance as he began to speak:

“I have, of course, all the information about Captain Hedrock that is known to the Weapon Makers. My search led into very unusual by-ways. But if similar curious paths exist in the Isher annals, as I believe they do, then the section of wall Hedrock removed from the tombs is only the final clue. But let me ask: Is there any picture, or film, any physical record available of the husband of the Empress Ganeel?”

“Why—no!” The breathlessness was accompanied by a dizziness, almost a spinning of her brain for her mind had made an improbable leap. She spoke blurrily, “Mr. Gonish, he said that, except for my dark hair, I reminded him of Ganeel.”

The No-man bowed gravely. “Your Majesty, I see you have already plunged into these strange waters. I want you to run your mind back and back through the history of your line, and remember—Whose pictorial record is missing, husband or emperor?”

“They’re mostly husbands of empresses,” she said slowly, steadily. “That is how the traditions began, that consorts should remain in the background.” She frowned. “So far as I know there is only one emperor, of whom picture, portrait or film record is not available. That one is understandable. As the first of the line, he—”

She stopped. She stared at Gonish. “Are you crazy?” she said. “Are you crazy?”

The No-man shook his head. “You may now regard it as a full intuition. You know what my training is. I take a fact here and a fact there, and as soon as I have approximately ten per cent, the answer comes automatically. They call it intuition, but actually it is simply the ability of the brain to co-ordinate tens of thousands of facts in a flash, and to logicalize any gaps that may exist.

“One of the facts in this case is that there are no less than twenty-seven important pictorial records missing in the history of the Weapon Shops. I concentrated my attention on the writing of the men in question, and the similarity of mental outlook, the breadth of intellect, was unmistakable.” He finished. “You may or may not know it, but just as the first and greatest of the Ishers is only a name, so our founder, Walter S. de Lany, is a name without a face.”

“But who is he?” said Prince del Curtin, blankly. “Apparently, somewhere along the line the race of man bred an immortal.”

“Not bred. It must have been artificial. Had it been natural, it would have been repeated many times in these centuries. And it must have been accidental, and unrepeatable, because everything the man has ever said or done shows an immense and passionate interest in the welfare of the race.”

“But,” said the prince, “what is he trying to do? Why did he marry Innelda?”

For a moment, Gonish was silent. He stared at the woman, and she returned his gaze, the color in her cheeks high and brilliant. Finally she nodded, and Gonish said:

“For one thing, he has tried to keep the Isher strain Isher. He believes in his own blood, and rightly so, as history has proven. For instance, you two are only remotely Isher. Your blood is so diluted that your kinship to Captain Hedrock can hardly be called a relation. Hedrock remarked to me once that the Isher emperors tended to marry brilliant and somewhat unstable women, and that this periodically endangered the family. It was the empresses, he said, who always saved the line by marrying steady, sober, able men.”

“Suppose—” The woman did not think of her words as an interruption; the thought came; she spoke it. “Suppose we offered to trade you for him?”

Gonish shrugged. “You can probably obtain his corpse for me.”

That burned and chilled by turns, but the brief fever left her colder, more remote from emotion. Death was something that she had seen with icy eyes, and she could face it for him as well as for herself.