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late, sift it, strain his thoughts. Find out that he s a madman--Then, die!
Schwartz was silent.
Arvardan broke in hurriedly,  All right. Schwartz, tackle my mind now. Go as
deep as you want.
I was born on Baronn in the Sirius Sector. I lived my life in an atmosphere of
anti-Terrestrialism in the formative years, so I can t help what flaws and
follies lie at the roots of my subconscious. But look on the surface and tell
me if, in my adult years, I have not fought bigotry in myself. Not in others;
that would be easy. But in myself, and as hard as I could.
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 Schwartz, you don t know our history! You don t know of the thousands and
tens of thousands of years in which Man spread through the Galaxy--of the wars
and misery. You don t know of the first centuries of the Empire, when still
there was merely a confusion of alternating despotism and chaos. It is only in
the last two hundred  years, now, that our Galactic government has become a
representative one.
Under it the various worlds are allowed their cultural autonomy--have been
allowed to govern themselves--have been allowed voices in the common rule of
all.
 At no time in history has Humanity been as free from war and poverty as now;
at no time has
Galactic economy been so wisely adjusted; at no time have prospects for the
future been as bright.
Would you destroy it and begin all over? And with what? A despotic theocracy
with only the unhealthy elements of suspicion and hatred in it.
 Earth s grievance is legitimate and will be solved someday, if the Galaxy
lives. But what they will do is no solution. Do you know what they intend
doing?
If Arvardan had had the ability that had come to Schwartz, he would have
detected the struggle in Schwartz s mind. Intuitively, however, he knew the
time had come to halt for a moment.
Schwartz was moved. All those worlds to die--to fester and dissolve in
horrible disease...Was he an Earthman after all? Simply an Earthman? In his
youth he had left Europe and gone to America, but was he not the same man
despite that? And if after him men had left a torn and wounded earth for the
worlds beyond the sky, were they less Earthmen? Was not all the Galaxy his?
Were not they all--all--descended from himself and his brothers?
He said heavily,  All right, I m with you. How can I help?
 How far out can you reach for minds? asked Arvardan eagerly, with a
hastening quickness as though afraid still of a last change of mind.
 I don t know. There are minds outside. Guards, I suppose. I think I can reach
out into the street
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even, but the further I go, the less sharp it becomes.
 Naturally, said Arvardan.  But how about the Secretary? Could you identify
his mind?
 I don t know, mumbled Schwartz.
A pause...The minutes stretched by unbearably.
Schwartz said,  Your minds are in the way. Don t watch me. Think of something
else.
They tried to. Another pause. Then,  No--I can t--I can t.
Arvardan said with a sudden intensity,  I can move a bit--Great Galaxy, I can
wiggle my feet....Ouch! Each motion was a savage twinge.
He said,  How hard can you hurt someone, Schwartz? Can you do it harder than
the way you hurt me a while back I mean?
 I ve killed a man.
 You have? How did you do that?
 I don t know. It just gets done. It s--it s-- Schwartz looked almost
comically helpless in his effort to put the wordless into words.
 Well, can you handle more than one at a time?
 I ve never tried, but I don t think so. I can t read two minds at one time.
Pola interrupted.  You can t have him kill the Secretary, Bel. It won t work.
 Why not?
 How will we get out? Even if we caught the Secretary alone and killed him,
there would be hundreds waiting for us outside. Don t you see that?
But Schwartz broke in, huskily,  I ve got him.
 Whom? It came from all three. Even Shekt was staring wildly at him.
 The Secretary. I think it s his Mind Touch.
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 Don t let him go. Arvardan almost rolled over in his attempts at
exhortation, and tumbled off the slab, thumping to the floor with one
half-paralyzed leg working futilely to wedge underneath his body and lift.
Pola cried,  You re hurt! and suddenly found the hinges of her arm uncreaking
as she tried to lift her elbow.
 No, it s all right. Suck him dry, Schwartz. Get all the information you can.
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Schwartz reached out until his head ached. He clutched and clawed with the
tendrils of his own mind, blindly, clumsily--like an infant thrusting out
fingers it can t quite handle for an object it can t quite reach. Until now he
had taken whatever he could find, but now he was looking--looking--
Painfully, he caught wisps.  Triumph! He s sure of the results....Something
about space bullets.
He s started them....No, not started. Something else....He s going to start
them.
Shekt groaned.  They re automatically guided missiles to carry the virus,
Arvardan. Aimed at the various planets.
 But where are they kept, Schwartz? insisted Arvardan.  Look, man, look--
 There s a building I--can t--quite--see....Five points--a star--a name; Sloo,
maybe--
Shekt broke in again.  That s it. By all the stars in the Galaxy, that s it.
The Temple of Senloo.
It s surrounded by radioactive pockets on all sides. No one would ever go
there but the Ancients. Is it near the meeting of two large rivers, Schwartz?
 I can t--Yes--yes--yes.
 When, Schwartz, when? When will they be set off?
 I can t see the day, but soon--soon. His mind is bursting with that--It will
be very soon. His own head seemed bursting with the effort. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]