Marooned - John W. Campbell, ebook, CALIBRE SFF 1970s, Temp 1
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ALL I John Reid rose slowly as the radio clicked into silence under Grant's
fingers. The nine other men at the table moved restlessly. John Reid the
younger snubbed out a cigarette with a grinding, heavy persistence, slow and
inexorable. ' "It is done," said old John Reid slowly. "America, last to fall,
is fallen to Asia." He shook his massive white head slowly. "And by Fate's
unkindest mockery, we reach our goal, reach it at the end of a course as
difficult and as long as the course Asia's Nijihua led her men to reach their
.goal-the Asian World, simultaneous in birth with America's death. "Our goal
is reached, Scientists. Before you the atom burns to silver light, silver
energy, so safely, so control-lably, so irresistibly when we choose. The world
needs it, needs it infinitely for peace as America needed it for
war. "Now-shall we sell it to Nijihua-and the world? Give it to the world-and
Nijihua?" Young John Reid rose slowly. His face was keen and his eyes intense;
there was in his slowness of movement not the slowness of defeat and age and
despair. His was of absolute determination, and known power. Blue eyes, young
and strong, starred in the silver star-flecked light of the golden lamp,
looked down the table to blue eyes under silver hair, thin and silky. "No," he
said, soft and cold, "we will not sell, we will not give. At the crook of our
finger, at the whisper of a word Nijihua would heap honor, power, on the one
who mentioned the secret of the Atom to him. But Asians will come. They will
find us here, even here. But it will be months, three months, six; for this
Research Department 7-A was chosen by the American Government not unwisely,
not without secrecy. We will have time before they find this lone, lost
canyon. And when they come this will not be American Research Department 7-A.
It will be something very, very different. And that we must work out. For we
have tools, we have machines, and we have that Lamp of the Atoms, which is not
a lamp alone. Inadequate they are to strike direct at Nijihua and the Asian
World we know, and useless when the spirit of America's unity is crushed. "One
thing we have done, we have lighted the lamp. Two things we must do; rebuild
America into a unit, and strike at Nijihua. Now for this we have a tool, and
the lamp we have lighted lights unguessed caverns of knowledge. Three days it
has burned for us, and in that time we have seen lead melt to gold, raw rock
to flaming radium, seen tearing bolts that shattered rock and metal. But does
any man know this infinitely important thing; Why, three days ago, when Warren
Lewellyn first lit that lamp, seven of us died in sudden silent rigidity while
we eleven, who stood beside and among them, are here this hour? "I know,
radiations, radiations we have stopped by brute shielding, and brute
ignorance. But we did not die, and they did. We know nothing of the thing we
have found. But-I have thoughts on that. "We will do much invention in these
three months, and some will be artistic and some will be fantastic, some will
be-the exploration of the caverns the light of the lamp reveals. "We must have
men, men of our own race to back us and aid us and hold what we conquer for
them. And we must have something that will withstand the might of Nijihua's
armies, and nothing will do that. Therefore we must deflect their fury until
the time comes that we are ready. "Now we would build a firm-knit political
union of our people, and Nijihua would build a firm-knit union of all peoples
for the benefit of his own. To do this, Nijihua has taken a leaf from the
ancient books, and from Rome he has learned and from Persia, from Macedonia
and Egypt who ruled world-girdling empires. All these have taught him many
things, and the first of these is this: it is not swords which hold or
overthrow empires, nor mighty leaders alone, but emotions and mobs and mass.
It is the race, not the man. A well-fed and sheltered slave is a safer
companion than the freest of starving wretches. The freedom man wants, is
freedom to work and eat and live and think as he wills. To rule an empire
then, each man must have his way in those things that matter no whit to the
empire, and matter so much to the man. You have read the promises of the
Emperor. What does he say?" "To each man a home, a wife, a living, and peace
to enjoy these things. To each man the right to learn, to think, to live, to
worship as he will, so only he does not disturb the peace of the Emperor," old
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John Reid quoted slowly. "To worship as we please! That, and that alone I
shall demand!" The nine men looked from father to son in puzzlement John Reid
the younger pointed to the star-flecked silver lance of light that leapt in
frozen grace from the golden lamp, and slowly their eyes deepened, and their
faces set in a grim, sure knowledge. "We want no converts of an alien race,"
said David Muir slowly. "How, John, do we turn them away?" "If my guess be
more than guess, though he come in skin-dyed white as ours, with hair like
golden grain and eyes blue as liquid air, set straight and true across his
face, though we make him gladly welcome, still no convert shall slip through
to spy and warn and reveal!" said John Reid. "We have a thousand thousand
inventions yet to make, and a hundred days to make them." "Whom do we
worship?" asked big, slow Tornsen. "And that is not the least of our
inventions," answered John Reid. "Let it be-All, Lord of Things that Are and
Are to Be!" "We build, then, the shrine of All, in whom everything that is,
is." Old John Reid nodded slowly. "And All is manifest in the Flame. Yes. We
must invent the Service of All. Which will be the Service of America. "The
Temple will be built." "But not too swiftly, not too swiftly," said young Reid
softly, leaning forward. "We must study All. All has many faces, and His
star-flecked flame is but one. By the lightest touch we show another phase of
All-Lord of Destruction!" His long, slim fingers touched the base of the lamp,
and in the instant the lancing flame darkened, shown iridescent, and was
abruptly twin-forked, snake-tongued, crimson as new-let blood, so the dimmed
cavern was washed with red that dripped from every rock and puddled on the
great table, and the gold of the lamp itself was dark and red with it. The
cavern was a place of terror, scarlet and black, for what would not reflect
that angry terror-stirring red, must needs be black, for there was no other
light save that to reflect. And every shining surface threw back the
snake-tongued flame that moved and waved so slow, so slow, so sinuous there,
to some strange breeze unfelt by man, feeling never the stirring of the ak in
the great chamber. "And," said Reid as the lithe, white fingers moved again,
"All-Lord of Wisdom!" And his color was blue, blue as the purest sapphire,
cold and clear and gemlike, a tetrahedral flame, perfect as a mathematician's
formula, straight-ruled as a clear, clear crystal of light. And the cavern
walls were cold and blue as vast antarctic ice-caves, and black as spatial
night, and every polished thing gave back the tetrahedral flame of blue, the
flame of All, Lord of Wisdom. II Major Nashiki halted-in surprise mat did not
show on his hard-lined, immobile face. "Halt!" he snapped softly. Then he
advanced over the low ridge of rock before 'him, scoured, beaten sandstone,
red as the dust of Mars. A great gash in the hide of Earth fell away below
him, red as the stone he trod, blue as distant hills, yellow as sea-sand and
riotous with cloud and sun and shadow. Three quarters of a mile it dropped to
some forgotten riverbed, deserted aeons since when a mighty slide had dammed
the stream that carved that gash. But the bottom ringed by Titan columns of
jutting rock-isolated island-pillars half a mile tall-was sand as
smooth-and-white as silver-dust. And that had not halted him. Country such as
this, hi miniature, he and his scouting party had traversed for three long
weeks. But he halted, for on the farther wall, half a mile to his left, was a
great patch of the rock wall that was not rock, but threw back the long rays
of the sun in blinding light, white as salt. And in it were glints of purest
raying color, blue, green, pearl and somber scarlet. "Captain Tiashi, bring
the American scout." A trimly uniformed captain, a weary, dirty American in
tattered rags, light chains on his arms, came forward. "Tucker, what is that?"
demanded the major. Tucker looked silently for a long time. He answered slowly
at length. "It's new to me." He folded his long legs, and settled down
wearily. The small major, glared at him. "Dog, what is it?" His hand struck
out like a flash of light; the echo of the slap died out in infinite
space. The American looked at him through narrowed eyes, his face unmoving.
"If I did know, I might and I might not tell you. As it happens I don't, and I
can't. If you want real bad to know, I'll show you how to get down there. But
you'll have to take these gee-gaws off, because you get down there with your
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fingernails, and you pull your ears in so you don't blow off. Or you use
wings." "Captain, remove those irons. We will go down. Cap- tain Tiashi, you
will make camp here, and remain with your men. Shurimi, Hitsali, Kushkiani;
you will come." Five men started down. The American went first, long arms,
long legs reaching for known holds, the little brown Orientals silently
stretching themselves impossibly to reach holds easy for the lank American.
Tucker led them a merry chase. Far below, they struck an angling shelf that
led down and down, then a short climb down bare, crumbling rock. Then a great
slide, a terraced pillar. They walked the fine, white sand of the floor.
Tucker looked about slowly, and moved on. They were three miles from the
dazzling whiteness of the strange wall; the sun was setting now, and in this
deep canyon the dusk was coming. But there was light across there, silvery
light that streamed through door and great carved windows. Tucker slogged
wearily along. Behind, the others marched, the slipping sand making their
instinctively assumed rhythm uneven. A half mile from the great doors, the
major halted. The intense sheen of the white wall had abated, and he saw now
it was a perfect square of white. The square was edged with five-foot bands of
crystal, crystal above that shone like a mighty sapphire, five hundred feet
long, five feet wide; at the right, green as new-grown leaves. Light in it was
swiftly growing, softly lambently gleaming. At the left, a vast, luminous and
softly pulsing light like an acre of pearls. But across all the bottom was
red, not ruby, but deeper, sullen crimson. Nashiki pushed on. The light died
in the canyon, and by hand torches they plodded on across the silver sands,
while dim stars showed the mighty, black walls, and ahead the great crystals
pulsed, and the whole vast face of the wall was faintly luminous, as though
bright light shone within. The great doors stood open, and silvery light
cascaded down the majestic steps. Boldly Nashiki started up the great
stairway, and it rang to his tread like mighty bells, deep and slumberous.
Half up their fifty-foot climb he was, he and his little troop, when a figure
appeared at the peak. "Who comes?" The voice of the silhouette was deep as the
voice of the stair. "Major Nashiki of the World Imperial Army,
Scouting Division. Who are you, and what is this place?" he snapped. "This is
the Temple of All. If you be of Oriental blood, stop at the last step. It is
the way of All, Lord of Life." "The Temple of All? What sect is this? I do not
know it." "All is Lord of Life, and his phases are Dis, Lord of Death; and
Mens, Lord of Wisdom; Tal, Lord of 'Peace; and Shan, Lord of Fulfillment. And
his phases make All, Lord of Life." Steadily Nashiki mounted the Singing
Stair, and as he mounted, his troop behind him, the song became a welling
melody. "It is new to me. This property lies in the Province of Colorado, and
is unregistered. Why has it not been listed as the Emperor commands?" "All,
Lord of Life, alone commands. Nashiki, you have reached the top. Halt, for the
Lord All admits none to his Temple save those of All." "I shall enter,"
snapped Nashiki viciously. "The wrath of the Emperor shall be upon you if any
interferes with my way." He strode forward. The man loomed before him,
enormous. A cloak of silver lined with a strange cloth of woven metallic
threads, blue and red, silver and green, wrapped him. A strange headdress, set
with a one-inch ornament of crystal, diamond-clear, sapphire, pearl and sullen
crimson and green that held a bound silver cloth, gleamed hi the light of the
Temple. In his hand he carried a curious staff, wrought of silvery metal,
three feet long and tapering from one inch upward to the four-inch cubed
crystal at its head set flush with its sides, a strange crystal that glowed
with sparkling light, silvery with star-flecks at the top, sullen red and
iridescent pearl, green and sapphire on its sides. The man stood massive and
unmoving, six feet three in height, as Nashiki halted to inspect him. "Who are
you?" demanded the Oriental. "Tornsen, Server of All," said the man quietly.
"No man shall halt you. But there is death in the air of the Temple of All for
all save the People of All." As he spoke, the staff in his hands glowed
brighter. The silvery flame leapt in the crystal's crest a foot tall, silvery
with bursting stars that floated and vanished in an instant, and from the
glowing side of sullen red a vaguely seen, vaguely stirring snake-tongued
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flame of deep crimson wavered and died as the brighter silver waned
again. Nashiki laughed softly. "So no man touches me, I have no great fear of
Gods," he said. He strode forward again. The giant blocked his way by a slow
step. "It is Death," he said. And Nashiki looked through the great doors.
Before 'him was a great cubed chamber of light. Five hundred feet on a side,
it was, and the far wall was dark jet, against which stood a great graven
altar, a mighty staff of gold, fifteen feet thick and topped by a Titan's
crystal such as the man carried, cubed as his, colored as his. And from its
peak lanced a silver flame, sparkling, coruscating. The right wall was green
as the crystal's light, the left a vast pearl, the roof more luminously blue
than a summer sky. And the floor was a sea of waving blood. For a moment the
sight had stopped Nashiki. He stepped forward again. "That is gold," he said.
"All gold is the property of the Emperor, alloys are to be used for
decoration." Again the man was in front of him. "That is Death," he answered
slowly. "That gold is 'the property of the Lord of Life." Nashiki stepped
back, and his movement was swift as the darting tongue of a chameleon; his
revolver was in his hand. "Stand aside," he said. Tomsen stood away, his head
bent slightly. Nashiki stepped forward, across the threshold, to the sea of
blood. And fell dead. He uttered no cry as he fell, nor did he twist; in all
the Temple there was no sound nor change, save only that on the floor was a
lax, empty sack, discarded by life. His little troop started forward, rifles
suddenly raised, and their voices were high and sharp with anger. Tornsen
spoke again, his staff upraised. "Hold! I did not touch him. Dis, Lord of
Death has destroyed him. I will bring him to you, for it is death for you to
cross the threshold." A man was thrust forward suddenly, a disheveled, ragged
man, weary and emaciated. Three rifles pressed his back. Tucker looked up into
the broad calm face of Tornsen. "Is that-true?" he asked slowly. "I can
cross." "So you are American, All welcomes you," said Torn-sen. Slowly,
reluctantly, Tucker crossed the line, his eyes fixed on the great cubed
crystal of the altar. He crossed, stepped over the dead Oriental, and walked
down the broad floor to the mighty crystal. Tornsen stepped behind him. At
twenty feet from the great crystal Tucker halted, and turned to look at the
man behind him. "All-All-" he said, "I never heard-" "All, Lord of Life, one
weary, worn stands' before your altar. All, Lord of Life, cleanse him with
your flame, give him of your life! Tal, Lord of Peace, one distressed stands
before your altar. Bring Life, Lord of Life. Bring Peace, oh Tal." The
motionless, silver flame washed higher, till, like a great fountain, it
spilled over and fell in soft-glowing stars of light about them. The crystal
turned with a vast majesty till the green facet shown toward them. As the
silver died, green washed and spun within the crystal, soft green, restful
emerald that reached out and through and about the two, and returned to the
crystal. In a moment Tucker turned, very slowly. His face was clear, his eyes
bright with new life, new hope; his weary 'body stood straighter now,
stronger. "All-All-" he said. Slowly he knelt before the softly glowing green
of the crystal. "I have hope again-hope-something I thought gone for all time.
Oh, God-let me stay, let me stay-" The green washed out in a sudden whirling
fire that wrapped him, and very slowly he sank to the floor, arranging himself
comfortably. Tornsen turned to the door. The Orientals stood staring, rifles
lowered. But suddenly they lifted them. "We are coming, we are coming, for
there is no death-some weapon-" "It is Death for you," repeated Tornsen
steadily. "Come here," snapped one, "we will see! You will stand 'beside me,
close to me-" Together, side by side, they stepped across the line.
Soundlessly, the smaller man sank to the floor. "It is Dis, Lord of Death,"
said Tornsen again. "I will bring them to you, and you must believe, for to
not believe is Death. Tell me, then, what man can kill as these men died? Look
at their eyes, look at their flesh." He picked up the limp Nashiki, and bore
him across the threshold. The two remaining Japanese bent over him quickly,
with little half-smothered twitterings, their watch- his eyes, the eyes of a
long-dead fish; they examined his his eyes, the eyes of a long-dead fish; they
examined his flesh, and it was like boiled flesh, stiff and strangely white.
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They backed away suddenly, twittering more intensely. Then abruptly their
rifles were flung to their shoulders, centered on the white-robed man. Behind
him, abruptly, the great crystal whirled noiselessly, instantaneously, and
from its sullen red, a monstrous flame licked like a great rope of congealed,
luminous blood, a snake-tongue of death that wrapped suddenly about the nearer
Japanese, and flamed about Tornsen. It flicked back, and the second Japanese
stood frozen as his companion wilted slowly. Tornsen, bathed in the heart of
the red flame, stood calm, unmoving. "I thank Thee, Dis," the Server said as
he bowed his head slightly. He raised his eyes to look at the remaining
Japanese. "Go," he said. "Bring your companions, and take these bodies." "I
cannot leave," wailed the Oriental suddenly, "I cannot. I know no trail,
he-the American-led us. It is night, I do not know the way." Tornsen looked at
the broken man. "Where are your companions? I will take you to them." "No-no-I
will not betray them-" "We hurt no man. We serve All, Lord of Life. Those who
trespass against All, beware. I would help you." The Oriental looked up at
Tornsen's broad, calm face. "They are at the top of that great cliff.
There-their fire-" "Oh Tal-bring peace!" Tornsen called softly. The staff in
his hand spun, and the small man screamed as the green face glowed, a lapping
green reached toward him. He tried to run down the steps, but the great song
of the stair echoed hi his ears as lethargy overcame him. He slept. He woke.
His captain was shaking him, looking at him with angry eyes. "Shurimi, answer!
How are you back? Where is your officer?" Shurimi leapt to his feet. Hard red
sandstone, age-old, lay beneath his feet, the great canyon swept out to the
left. "Dead-" he gasped. "Dead, in the Temple of All!" Sunlight, still faintly
red with dawn, fell on the camp. ra Three vast feathers falling silent through
the blue sky, great wings turning slow through still air, they settled
vertically to silver sand between vast upflung walls of rioting color, sullen
reds and slate blues, dull golds that shifted infinitely with shifting,
lancing sunlight and cloud. Three great helicopters, the striking dragon of
the Asian World flung bold across their sides. They touched and halted; slowly
a stream of men came out to look across the gorge to the salt-white Temple of
All with the bordering blue of Mens, the Green of Tal, the shifting pearl of
Shan, and the sullen scarlet of Dis, Lord of Death. The Commanding Officer
came out a moment later, and behind him came thirty women in shabby clothes,
torn and patched, half a dozen ragged children with them. He spoke swift
orders to the men, then presently Lieutenant-General Hitsohi started up the
mighty silver treads of the Singing Stair, glinting lancing light under the
sun. The great treads echoed slumberously to his steps, a growing carillon as
the eight men under Captain Chu Li followed, and a private, one Shurimi. And
finally the American women came, and the peal of the Stair became a mighty
chant that echoed infinitely through the rock-walled gorge. At the top,
Hitsohi halted as before him loomed the majestic figure of Tornsen, Server of
All. The Oriental turned to Shurimi. "This is the man?" he snapped. "Yes,
General." "You brought about the deaths of Major Nashiki, and three men of the
World Imperial Army?" he demanded, turning again to the giant. "All, Lord of
Life brought their deaths, Warrior. This is the Temple of All, and 'before the
Cubed Crystal of All only ours may stand, for such is the will of All. No man
may sway the will of God, Warrior." "Never yet have I seen a God that killed,
save through the hands of men. Further, there is report that aside from the
violation of the Registration Edict, you have metallic gold stored here,
against the will of the Emperor and the laws of the Empire. Is this too,
true?" "Such is the base of the Cubed Crystal. All wills it. It will remain,"
said Tornsen simply. "Now I warn you, as I warned Nashiki, there is death on
the Scarlet Floor of Dis. You do not believe, but believe me thus, that you,
ignorant, cannot safely venture within the domain of mighty forces unknown to
you, be they such things as man may understand or those things forever beyond
man's finite mind, the will of Lord All." Hitsohi stared cynically. "You are
violating the Edicts of the Emperor, and you and your companions are under
arrest for these, things, and for the assassination of Major Nashiki. The
mighty forces of the Empire, priest, are within the limits of any man's finite
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