Barrington Bayley - Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus - The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

He clenched his fist. ‘Get this! Everything that happens, happens beneath the crystal dome. There is no external world . There is no longer any universe, any creation… so any uncontrolled process beneath the dome is a danger to the City. The element in the human psyche that reaches out, explores and discovers must be eradicated. It means destruction to us. The outward, aspirational life must be replaced by an inward life of symbolism and extremely close personal relationships.

‘None of this can happen at once, of course. In a sense we are still in our first stages of arrival in the empty void. We have still to make the adjustment, which we are doing by degrees, progressing two steps forward and one step back. Thus at the moment the dome is transparent and lets out a blaze of light. This means a loss of energy but for us it is a symbol, an announcement of our presence. At some date in the future the dome will be made totally impervious and no quantum of mass-energy will ever be allowed to leave the City. Then again, we still call the City by its original name, City 5, bringing with it the awareness that there were other cities and other places. Eventually it will be known simply as the City.’

‘And is ignorance also part of the prescription for survival?’ Haren’s tone was mildly contemptuous.

‘A careful balance is needed.’ The long arguing was making Kord tired, but he refused to let his energy flag. ‘Full consciousness of our situation would be too much for the collective mind; it would cause mental disorders and ultimately destroy us. Likewise, complete ignorance would destroy us for different reasons. We must steer a middle course until the day when the non-deviating republic has been established and we can safely permit the whole city to live with the full knowledge and consciousness of where we are.’

Kord stood up, his bulk looming over them. ‘I trust I have made things clear. We will recess for a short while and meet in the Executive Complex in three hours’ time. It will be necessary to make some arrangements.’

With opaque faces the Temporary Board rose and left the room. The others remained behind, looking pensively at the table top.

‘A fairly bad business,’ Elbern said.

‘We can handle it. But I think the Board we leave behind when we freeze again will have some different names in it.’ Kord picked up the file he had thrown at Kiang and leafed through it moodily. The section on the Archetypal Dramas had been the first give-away. Kord had always known that the symbols and archetypes that would emerge from the collective unconscious would decide the fate of City 5 in the long run. That was why he had encouraged the development of art forms for which practically the whole City was an audience, films, plays and archetypal dramas delivered in a semi-hypnagogic state, in which these entities could find expression, symbols, characters and stories merging into a dream-like, hypnotic blend. The section on the dramas was always the first thing he turned to when given the briefing. If the symbols were rounded, square, on the Jungian mandala or quaternity patterns, then he was pleased. The image he looked for was the cave, the female, the square table, the square room, the circle. Today there was an altogether unacceptable number of thrusting, probing images, the tower on the plain, the pointed lance, the long journey, the magician, the supreme effort. These images were all culled from the generalised social unconscious of the time. Aware of the part played by the sexual polarity in the structure of the social psyche, Kord had long since realised that it was necessary to create a womb-centred, vulva-centred civilisation, instead of a phallus-centred one.

Brooding, he closed the file. He had faced many difficulties in the past. It was disappointing to find that they might not, after all, be diminishing.

When they again met the Temporary Board three hours later, they found that the spirit of disagreement was still present. Further, the rebels had used the time to reconsolidate their position among some complexes of the Ramification. Kord was obliged to resort to strong measures. Within twenty-four hours he had set in motion an efficient and informed state police. Two days later, the general purge began. Within a week public executions were being held daily in the main park.

Kayin was in hiding, having taken Polla with him, in a part of the City that had not been rebuilt for a few hundred years and where he had friends. To his surprise he remained hidden, whereas others failed to evade the combination of delation and electronic scanning by which the Ramification discovered everyone’s whereabouts. The reason, as he at last surmised, was simple: his expulsion from the Society had saved him. He was no longer associated with a subversive movement, and his other crime was not, in the context of present events, viewed with the same gravity.

Accordingly he began to venture out. In the main park he watched as the unrepentant Ham-Ra, Tamm and Barsh received the customary lethal injections in the neck As he wandered away, feeling bitter and sick, he heard someone call his name.

It was Herren, an acquaintance he had not seen for a couple of years. About the same age as himself, Herren appraised him speculatively.

‘How are you, old chap? Everything all right?’

The bright, breezy manner simply left Kayin scowling. He turned away, but Herren followed him, speaking sympathetically. ‘Yes, I know, it’s an awful shame. But the game’s not lost, you know. Things really are moving. I thought you might be interested.’

Kayin shrugged.

‘Well, all right, it is a bit open here. Listen. I happen to know where you’re staying. Surprised?’ He laughed. ‘News travels these days. Friends, you know. I’ll call on you tonight. Pity if you were left out of everything.’

Kayin looked at him thoughtfully. It’s up to you.’ He felt oddly detached. Herren might be a Ramification agent, for all he knew, but he didn’t much care.

In the event, Herren was playing it straight. He called just as Kayin and Polla were finishing their evening meal. The wall screen was showing an old drama from several years ago – the new-style dramas had been taken out of circulation – but they were paying it too little heed to be drawn into the semi-hypnagogic state in which it could have been fully appreciated.

Herren entered the room and rudely switched the screen off. ‘Not interested in that old rubbish, are you?’ He looked around, then produced a small metal cylinder from his pocket and carefully placed it on the table. ‘This will fool any hidden scanners,’ he explained. ‘They’ll pick up nothing but an empty room.’

Kayin stared at the gadget blankly. ‘Where did you get it?’

The other winked. ‘There’s a certain amount of underground stuff being manufactured these days.’

Despite his own misdemeanour, Kayin found the idea hard to grasp. ‘Do you mean insurrection? The City is fragmenting?’

‘They are talking of civil war.’

‘But that’s… crazy…’ Kayin wondered if Herren knew what he knew of City 5’s situation, of the facts concerning the sidereal universe.

‘I haven’t been getting much news lately,’ he said weakly.

‘Let me fill you in. Kord has already killed three members of the Temporary Board. Chippilare and Kuro escaped, thanks to the loyalty of sympathetic elements both in the Ramification and outside. They have organised an opposition and are holding out in the Western Segment, down near the Basement. It’s more or less an enclave. The State Police aren’t strong enough to go in and get them out.’

‘Has Kord given the police arms?’

‘They’re getting arms now. But the opposition is manufacturing arms, too. It’s a revolution! Because the opposition isn’t just in the enclave, it’s all over, gradually being organised. Youth is waking up!’