ABOLISH THE LABYRINTH.
DESTROY THE MAZE.
DELETE THE PUZZLE.
(x² ø Y³d! Space/d! Time)
DISBAND.
(OPERATIONS, EXPRESSIONS, FACTORS, FRACTIONS, POWERS, EXPONENTS, RADICALS, IDENTITIES, EQUATIONS, PROGRESSIONS, VARIATIONS, PERMUTATIONS, DETERMINANTS, AND SOLUTIONS)
EFFACE.
(ELECTRON, PROTON, NEUTRON, MESON AND PHOTON)
ERASE.
(CAYLEY, HENSON, LILLIENTHAL, CHANUTE, LANGLEY, WRIGHT, TURNBUL AND S&ERSON)
EXPUNGE.
(NEBULAE, CLUSTERS, STREAMS, BINARIES, GIANTS, MAIN SEQUENCE, AND WHITE DWARFS)
DISPERSE.
(PISCES, AMPHIBIAN, BIRDS, MAMMALS, AND MAN)
ABOLISH.
DESTROY,
DELETE.
DISBAND.
ERASE ALL EQUATIONS.
INFINITY EQUALS ZERO.
THERE IS NO---
“---there is no what?” Reich shouted. “There is no what?” He struggled upward, fighting the bedclothes and the restraining hands. “There is no what?”
“No more nightmares,” Duffy Wyg& said.
“Who's that?”
“Me.Duffy.”
Reich opened his eyes. He was in a frilly bedroom in a frilly bed with old-fashioned linen and blankets. Duffy Wyg&, starched and fresh, had her hands against his shoulders. Once again she tried to thrust him back against the pillows.
“I'm asleep,” Reich said. “I want to wake up.”
“You say the nicest things. Lie down and the dream will continue.”
Reich fell back. “I was awake,” he said somberly. “I was wide awake for the first time in my life. I heard... I don't know what I heard. Infinity and zero. Important things. Reality. Then I fell asleep and I'm here.”
“Correction,” Duffy smiled. “Just for the record. You awoke.”
“I'm asleep!” Reich shouted. He sat up. “Have you got a shot? Anything... opium, hemp, somnar, lethettes... I've got to wake up, Duffy. I've got to get back to reality.”
Duffy bent over him and kissed him hard on the mouth. “How about this? Real?”
“You don't understand. It's all been delusions... hallucinations... everything. I've got to readjust, reorientate, reorganize... Before it's too late, Duffy. Before it's too late, too late, too late...”
Duffy threw up her hands. “What the hell's happened to medicine!” she exclaimed. “First that damned doctor scares you into a faint. Then he swears you're patched up... and now look at you. Psychotic!” She knelt on the bed and shook a finger against Reich's nose. “One more word out of you and I call Kingston.”
“What? Who?”
“Kingston, as in hospital. Where they send people like you.”
“No. Who did you say scared me into a faint?”
“A doctor friend.”
“In the square in front of police headquarters?”
“X marks the spot.”
“Sure?”
“I was with him, looking for you. Your valet told me about the explosion and I was worried. We got to the rescue just in time.”
“Did you see his face?”
“See it? I've kissed it.”
“What's it look like?”
“It's a face. Two eyes. Two lips. Two ears. One nose. Three chins. Listen, Ben, if this is some more of the awaken-asleep-reality-infinity lyrics... it ain't commercial.”
“And you brought me here?”
“Sure. How could I pass up the opportunity? It's the only way I can get you into my bed.”
Reich grinned. He relaxed and said: “Duffy, you may now kiss me.”
“Mr. Reich, you have already been kissed. Or was that when you were still awake?”
“Forget that. Nightmares. Plain nightmares.” Reich burst into laughter. “Why the hell should I worry about having nightmares? I have the rest of the world in my hands. I'll take the dreams too. Didn't you once ask to be dragged through the gutter, Duffy?”
“That was a childish whim. I thought I could meet a better class of people.”
“You name the gutter and you can have it, Duffy. Gold gutters... Jewelled gutters. You want a gutter from here to Mars? You'll have it. You want me to turn the System into a gutter? I'll do it. Christ! I can turn the Galaxy into a gutter if you want it.” He jabbed his chest with his thumb. “Want to look at God? Here I am. Go ahead and look.”
“Dear man. So modest and so hung-over.”
“Drunk? Sure, I'm drunk.” Reich thrust his legs out of the bed and stood up, reeling slightly. Duffy came to him at once and he put his arm around her waist for support. “Why shouldn't I be drunk? I've licked D'Courtney. I've licked Powell. I'm forty years old. I've got sixty years of owning the whole world ahead of me. Yes. Duffy... the whole damned world!” He began walking around the room with Duffy. It was like a stroll through her ebullient erotic mind. A peeper decorator had reproduced Duffy's psyche perfectly in the decor.
“How'd you like to start a dynasty with me, Duffy?”
“I wouldn't know about starting dynasties.”
“You start with Ben Reich. First you marry him. Then---”
“That's enough. When do I start?”
“Then you have children. Boys. Dozens of boys...”
“Girls. And only three.”
“And you watch Ben Reich take over D'Courtney and merge it with Monarch. You watch the enemies go down... like this!” In full stride, Reich kicked the leg of a busty vanity table. It toppled and crashed a score of crystal bottles to the floor.
“After Monarch and D'Courtney become Reich, Incorporated, you watch me eat up the rest... the small ones... the fleas. Case and Umbrel on Venus. Eaten!” Reich brought his fist down on a torso-shaped side table and smashed it. “United Transaction on Mars. Mashed and eaten!” He crushed a delicate chair. “The GCI Combine on Ganymede, Callisto, and Io... Titan Chemical & Atomics... And then the smaller lice: the backbiters, the haters, the Guild of Peepers, the moralists, the patriots... Eaten! Eaten! Eaten!” He pounded his palm against a marble nude until it toppled from its pedestal and shattered.
“Clever-up, dog,” Duffy hung on his neck. “Why waste all that dear violence? Punch me around a little.”
He lifted her in his arms and shook her until she squealed. “And parts of the world will taste sweet... like you, Duffy; and parts will stink to high heaven ... but I'll gobble them all.” He laughed and crushed her against him. “I don't know much about the God business, but I know what I like. We'll tear it all down, Duffy, and we'll build it all up to suit us... You and me and the dynasty.”
He carried her to the window, tore away the drapes and kicked open the sashes with a mighty jangle of smashed glass. Outside, the city was in velvet darkness. Only the skyways and streets twinkled with lights, and the scarlet eyes of an occasional Jumper popped up over the jet skyline. The rain had stopped and a slender moon hung pale in the sky. The night wind came whispering in, cutting through the cloy of the spilled perfume.
“You out there!” Reich roared. “Can you hear me! All of you... sleeping and dreaming. You'll dream my dreams from now on! You'll---”
Abruptly he was silent. He relaxed his hold on Duffy and permitted her to slide to the floor alongside him. He seized the sides of the window and poked his head far out into the night, twisting his neck to stare up. When he drew his head back into the room, his face wore a bewildered expression.
“The stars,” he mumbled. “Where are the stars?”
“Where are the what?” Duffy wanted to know.
“The stars,” Reich repeated. He gestured timidly toward the sky. “The stars. They're gone.”
Duffy looked at him curiously. “The what are gone?”
“The stars!” Reich cried. “Look up at the sky. The stars are gone. The constellations are gone! The Great Bear... The Little Bear... Cassiopeia... Draco... Pegasus... They're all gone! There's nothing but the moon! Look!”
“It's the way it always is,” Duffy said.
“It is not! Where are the stars?”
“What stars?”
“I don't know their names... Polaris and... Vegä... and... How the hell should I know their names? I'm not an astronomer. What's happened to us? What's happened to the stars?”
“What are stars?” Duffy asked.
Reich seized her savagely. “Suns... Boiling and blazing with light. Thousands of them. Billions of them... shining through the night. What the hell's the matter with you? Don't you understand? There's been a catastrophe in space, the stars are gone!”
Duffy shook her head. Her face was terrified. “I don't know what you're talking about, Ben. I don't know what you're talking about.”
He shoved her away, turned and ran to the bathroom, and locked himself in. While he was hurriedly bathing and dressing, Duffy pounded on the door and pleaded with him. Finally, she broke off, and seconds later he heard her callingKingstonHospital , using a guarded voice.
“Let her start explaining about the stars,” Reich muttered, halfway between anger and terror. He finished his toilette and came out into the bedroom.
Duffy cut the phone off hastily and turned to him.
“Ben,” she began.
“Wait here for me,” he growled. “I'm going to find out.”
“Find out about what?”
“About the stars!” he yelled. “The Christ almighty missing stars!”
He flung out of the apartment and rushed down to the street. On the empty footway, he paused and stared up again. There was the moon. There was one brilliant red point of light... Mars. There was another... Jupiter. There was nothing else. Blackness. Blackness. Blackness. I hung over his head, enigmatic, unrelieved, terrifying. It pressed downward, by some trick of the eye, oppressive, stifling, deadly.
He began to run, still staring upward. He turned a corner of the footway and collided with a woman, knocking her flat. He pulled her to her feet.
“You clumsy bastard!” she screamed, adjusting her feathers. Then in an oily voice: “Lookin' for a good time, pilot?”
Reich held her arm. He pointed up. “Look. The stars are gone. Have you noticed? The stars are gone.”
“What's gone?”
“The stars. Don't you see? They're gone.”
“I don't know what you're talking about, pilot. Cmon. Let's have us a ball.”
He tore himself away from her claws and ran. Halfway down the footway was a public v-phone alcove. He stepped in and dialed information. The screen lit and a robot voice spoke: “Question?”
“What's happened to the stars?” Reich asked. “When did it happen? It must have been noticed by now. What's the explanation?”
There was a click, a pause, then another click. “Will you spell the word, please.”
“Star!” Reich roared. “S-T-A-R. Star!”
Click, pause, click. “Noun or verb?”
“God damn you! Noun!”
Click, pause, click. “There is no information listed under that heading,” the canned voice announced.
Reich swore, then fought to control himself. “Where's the nearest Observatory to the city?”
“Kindly specify city.”
“This city. New York.”
Click, pause, click. “The Lunar Observatory atCrotonPark is situated thirty miles north. It may be reached by Jumper Route North Coordinate 227. The Lunar Observatory was endowed in the year two thousand---”
Reich slammed down the phone. “No information listed under that heading! My God! Are they all crazy?” He ran out into the streets, searching for a Public Jumper. A piloted machine cruised past and Reich signalled. It swooped to pick him up.
“Northco 227,” he snapped as he stepped into the cabin. “Thirty miles. The Lunar Observatory.”
“Premium trip,” the driver said.
“I'll pay it. Jet!”
The cab jetted. Reich restrained himself for five minutes, then began casually: “Notice the sky?”
“Why, mister?”
“The stars are gone.”
Sycophantic laugh.
“It's not supposed to be a joke,” Reich said. “The stars are gone.”
“If it ain't a joke, it needs explaining,” the driver said. “What the hell are stars?”
A blasting reply trembled on Reich's lips. Before it could erupt, the cab landed him on the observatory grounds close to the domed roof. He snapped: “Wait for me,” and ran across the lawns to the small stone entrance.
The door was ajar. He entered the observatory and heard the low whine of the dome mechanism and the quiet click of the observatory clock. Except for the low glow of the clock-light, the room was in darkness. The twelve-inch refractor was in operation. He could see the observer, a dim outline, crouched over the eyepiece of the guiding telescope.
Reich walked toward him, nervous, strained, flinching at the loud clack of his footsteps in the silence. There was a chill in the air.
“Listen,” Reich began in a low voice. “Sorry to bother you but you must have noticed. You're in the star business. You have noticed, haven't you? The stars. They're gone. All of them. What's happened? Why hasn't there been any alarm? Why's everybody pretending? My God! The stars! We always take them for granted. And now they're gone. What's happened? Where are the stars?”
The figure straightened slowly and turned toward Reich. “There are no stars,” it said.
It was the Man With No Face.
Reich cried out. He turned and ran. He flew out of the door, down the steps and across the lawn to the waiting cab. He blundered against the crystal cabin wall with a crack that dropped him to his knees.
The driver pulled him to his feet. “You all right, Mac?”
“I don't know,” Reich groaned. “I wish I did.”
“None of my business,” the driver said, “but I think you ought to see a peeper. You're talkin' crazy.”
“About the stars?”
“Yeah.”
Reich gripped the man. “I'm Ben Reich,” he said, “Ben Reich of Monarch.”
“Yeah, Mac. I recognized you.”
“Good. You know what I can do for you if you do me a favor? Money... New Job... Anything you want...”
“You can't do nothin' for me, Mac. I already been adjusted atKingston .”
“Better. An honest man. Will you do me a favor for the love of God or anything you love?”
“Sure, Mac.”
“Go into that building. Take a look at the man behind the telescope. A good look. Come back and describe him to me.”
The driver departed, was gone five minutes, then returned.
“Well?”
“He's just an ordinary guy, Mac. Sixtyish. Bald. Got lines in his face kinda deep. His ears stick out and he's got what they call a weak chin. You know. It kinda backslides.”
“It's nobody... nobody,” Reich muttered.
“What?”
“About those stars,” Reich said. “You never heard of them? You never saw them? You don't know what I'm talking about?”
“Nope.”
“Oh God...” Reich moaned. “Sweet God...”
“Now don't warp your orbit, Mac.” The driver thumped him powerfully on the back. “Tell you something. They taught me plenty up atKingston . One of them things was... Well, sometimes you get a crazy notion. It's brand new, see? But you think you always had it. Like... oh... for instance, that people always had one eye and now all of a sudden they got two.”
Reich stared at him.
“So you run around yellin': `For Chrissakes, where did they all of a sudden get two eyes everybody?' And they say: `They always got two eyes.' And you say: `The hell they did. I distinctly remember everybody got one eye.' And by God you believe it. And they have a hell of a time knockin' the notion outa you.” The driver thumped him again. “Seems to me, Mac, like you're on a one-eye kick.”
“One eye,” Reich muttered. “Two eyes. Tension, apprehension, and dissension have begun.”
“What?”
“I don't know. I don't know. I've had a rough time the last month. Maybe... Maybe you're right. But---”
“You want to go toKingston ?”
“No!”
“You want to stay here and mope about them stars?”
Abruptly, Reich shouted: “What the hell do I care about the stars!” His fear turned to hot rage. Adrenalin flooded his system, bringing with it a surge of courage and high spirits. He leaped into the cab. “I've got the world. What do I care if a few delusions go with it?”
“That's the way, Mac. Where to?”
“TheRoyalPalace .”
“The which?”
Reich laughed. “Monarch,” he said, and roared with laughter all the flight through the dawn to Monarch's soaring tower. But it was a semi-hysterical laughter.
The office ran around-the-clock shifts, and the night staff was in the last drowsy stages of the 12-8 shift when Reich bustled in. Although they had not seen much of him in the past month, the staff was accustomed to these visits, and shifted smoothly into high gear. As Reich went to his desk he was followed by secretaries and sub-secretaries carrying the urgent agenda of the day.
“Let all that wait,” he snapped. “Call in the entire staff... all department heads and organizational supervisors. I'm going to make an announcement.”
The flutter soothed him and recaptured his frame of reference. He was alive again, real again. All this was the only reality... the hustle, the bustle, the annunciator bells, the muted commands, the quick filling of his office with so many awed faces. All this was a preview of the future when bells would ring on planets and satellites and world supervisors would scuttle to his desk with awe on their faces.
“As you all know,” Reich began, pacing slowly and darting piercing glances into the faces that watched him, “We of Monarch have been locked in a death-struggle with the D'Courtney Cartel. Craye D'Courtney was killed some time ago. There were complications that have just been ironed out. You'll be pleased to hear that the road is open for us now. We can commence operation of Plan AA to take over the D'Courtney Cartel.”
He paused, waiting for the excited murmur that should respond to his announcement. There was no response.
“Perhaps,” he said, “some of you do not comprehend the size of the job and the importance of the job. Let me put it this way... in terms you'll understand. Those of you that are city supervisors will become continental supervisors. Continental supervisors will become satellite chiefs. Present satellite chiefs will become planetary chiefs. From now on, Monarch will dominate the solar system. From now on all of us must think in terms of the solar system. From now on...”
Reich faltered, alarmed by the blank looks around him. He glanced around, then singled out the chief secretary. “What the hell's the matter?” he growled. “There been news I haven't heard yet? Bad news?”
“N-No, Mr. Reich.”
“Then what's eating you? This is something we've all been waiting for. What's wrong with it?”
The chief secretary stammered: “We... I... I'm s-sorry, sir. I d-don't know what y-you're talking about.”
“I'm talking about the D'Courtney Cartel.”
“I... I've n-never heard of the organization, Mr. Reich, sir. I... we...” The chief secretary turned around for support. Before Reich's unbelieving eyes the entire staff shook their heads in mystification.
“D'Courtney on Mars!” Reich shouted.
“On where, sir?”
“Mars! Mars! M-A-R-S. One of the ten planets. Fourth from the sun.” Gripped by the returning terror, Reich bellowed incoherently. “Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Mars! Mars! Mars! A hundred and forty-one million miles from the sun, Mars!”
Again the staff shook their heads. There was a rustle and they backed away slightly from Reich. He darted at the secretaries and tore the sheafs of business papers from their hands. “You've got a hundred memos about D'Courtney on Mars there. You've got to. My God, we've been battling it out with D'Courtney for the last ten years. We---”
He clawed through the papers, throwing them wildly in all directions, filling the office with fluttering snow. There was not one reference to D'Courtney or Mars. There was neither any reference to Venus, Jupiter, the Moon, nor the other satellites.
“I've got memos in my desk,” Reich shouted. Hundreds of them. You lousy liars! Look in my desk...”
He darted to the desk and yanked out drawers. There was a stunning explosion. The desk burst asunder. Fragments of flying fruit-wood slashed the staff, and Reich was hurled back against the window by the desk top which smacked him like a giant's hand.
“The Man With No Face!” Reich cried. “Christ Almighty!” He shook his head feverishly, and clung to the paramount obsession. “Where are the files? I'll show you in the files... D'Courtney and Mars and all the rest. And I'll show him, too. The Man With No Face... Come on!”
He ran out of his office and burst into the file vaults. He tore out rack after rack; scattering papers, clusters of piezo crystals, ancient wire recordings, microfilm, molecular transcripts. There was no reference to D'Courtney or Mars. There was no reference to Venus, Jupiter, Mercury, the asteroids, the satellites.
And now indeed the office was alive with hustle and bustle, annunciator bells, strident commands. Now the office was stampeding, and three burly gentlemen from `Recreation' came trotting into the vaults directed by the bleeding secretary who urged: “You must! You must! I'll take the responsibility!”
“Easy now, easy now, easy now, Mr. Reich,” they said with the hissing noise with which hostlers soothe savage stallions. “Easy... easy...easy...”
“Get away from me, you sons of bitches.”
“Easy, sir. Easy. It's all right, sir.”
They deployed strategically while the hustle and the bustle increased and the bells sounded and voices far off called: “Who's his doctor? Get his doctor. Somebody call Kingston. Did you notify the police? No, don't. No scandal. Get the legal department, will you! Isn't the Infirmary open yet?”
Reich's breath came and went in snarls. He overturned files in the path of the burly gentlemen, put his head down and bulled straight through them. He raced through the office to the outside corridor and the Pneumatique. The door opened; he punched Science-city 57. He stepped into the air-shuttle and was shot over to Science where he stepped out.
He was on the laboratory floor. It was in darkness. Probably the staff imagined he had dropped to the street level. He would have time. Still breathing heavily, he trotted to the lab library, snapped on the lights and went to the reference alcove. A sheet of frosted crystal, cocked like a draft-board, was set before a desk chair. There was a complicated panel of control buttons alongside it.
Reich seated himself and punched READY. The sheet lit up and a canned voice spoke from an overhead speaker.
“Topic?”
Reich punched SCIENCE.
“Section?”
Reich punched ASTRONOMY.
“Question?”
“The universe.”
Click-pause-click. “The term universe in its complete physical sense applies to all matter in existence.”
“What matter is in existence?”
Click-pause-click. “Matter is gathered into aggregates ranging in size from the smallest atom to the largest collection of matter known to astronomers,”
“What is the largest collection of matter known to astronomers?” Reich punched DIAGRAM.
Click-pause-click. “The sun.” The crystal plate displayed a dazzling picture of the sun in speed-up action.
“But what about the others? The stars?”
Click-pause-click. “There are no stars.”
“The planets?”
Click-pause-click. “There is the earth.” A picture or the revolving earth appeared.
“The other planets? Mars? Jupiter? Saturn...”
Click-pause-click. “There are no other planets.”
“The moon?”
Click-pause-click. “There is no moon.”
Reich took a deep trembling breath. “We'll try it again. Go back to the sun.”
The sun appeared again in the crystal. “The sun is the largest collection of matter known to astronomers,” the canned voice began. Suddenly it stopped. Click-pause-click. The picture of the sun began to fade slowly. The voice spoke. “There is no sun.”
The model disappeared, leaving behind it an afterimage that looked up at Reich... looming, silent, horrible... The Man With No Face.
Reich howled. He leaped to his feet, knocking the desk chair backward. He picked it up and smashed it down on that frightful image. He turned and blundered out of the library into the lab, and thence to the corridor. At the Vertical Pneumatique, he punched STREET. The door opened, he staggered in and was dropped 57 stories to the Main Hall of Monarch's Science-city.
It was filled with early workers hurrying to their offices. As Reich pushed past them, he caught the astonished glances at his cut and bleeding face. Then he was aware of a dozen uniformed Monarch guards closing in on him. He ran down the hall and with a frantic burst of speed and dodged the guards. He slipped into the revolving doors and whirled through to the footway. There he jerked to a stop as though he had ran into white hot iron. There was no sun.
The street lights were lit; the skyways twinkled; Jumper eyes floated up and down; the shops were blazing... And overhead there was nothing... nothing but a deep, black, fathomless infinity.
“The sun!” Reich shouted. “The sun!”
He pointed upward. The office workers regarded him with suspicious eyes and hurried on. No one looked up.
“The sun! Where's the sun? Don't you understand, you fools? The sun!” Reich plucked at their arms, shaking his fist at the sky. Then the first of the guards came through the revolving door and he took to his heels.
He went down the footway, turned sharp to his right and sprinted through an arcade of brilliant, busy shops. Beyond the arcade was the entrance of a Vertical Pneumatique to the skyway. Reich leaped in. As the door closed behind him, he caught sight of the pursuing guards less than twenty yards off. Then he was lofted seventy stories and emerged on the skyway.
There was a small car-park alongside him, shelved onto the face of Monarch Tower, with a runway leading into the skyway. Reich ran in, flung credits to the attendant and got into a car. He pressed GO. The car went. At the foot of the runway he pressed LEFT. The car turned left and continued. That was all the control he had. Left, right; stop, go. The rest was automatic. Moreover, cars were strictly limited to the skyways. He might spend hours racing in circles high over the city, trapped like a dog in a revolving cage.
The car needed no attention. He glanced alternately over his shoulder and up at the sky. There was no sun... and they went about their business as though there had never been a sun. He shuddered. Was this more of the one-eye kick? Suddenly the car slowed and stopped; and he was marooned in the middle of the skyway, halfway betweenMonarchTower and the giantVisiphone & VisigraphBuilding .
Reich hammered on the control studs. There was no response. He leaped out and raised the tail hood to inspect the pick-up. Then he saw the guards far down the skyway, running toward him, and he understood. These cars were powered by broadcast energy. They'd cut the transmission off at the car-park and were coming after him. Reich turned tail and sprinted toward theV & VBuilding .
The skyway tunneled through the building and was lined with shops, restaurants, a theater---and there was a travel office! A sure out. He could grab a ticket, get into a one-man capsule and have himself slotted to any of the take-off fields. He needed a little time to reorganize... reorient... and he had a house inParis . He leaped across the center island, dodged past cars and ran into the office.
It looked like a miniature bank. A short counter. A grilled window protected by burglar-proof plastic. Reich went to the window, pulling money from his pocket. He slapped credits down on the counter and shoved them under the grille.
“Ticket toParis ,” he said. “Keep the change. Which way to the capsules? Jet, man! Jet!”
“Paris?” came the reply. “There is noParis .”
Reich stared through the cloudy plastic and saw... looking, looming, silent... The Man With No Face. He spun around twice, heart pounding, skull pounding, located the door and ran out. He ran blindly onto the skyway, shied feebly from an oncoming car, and was struck down into enveloping darkness---
ABOLISH.
DESTROY.
DELETE.
DISBAND.
(MINERALOGY, PETROLOGY, GEOLOGY, PHYSIOGRAPHY)
DISPERSE.
(METEOROLOGY, HYDROLOGY, SEISMOLOGY)
ERASE.
(X²ØY³ d:Space/d:Time)
EFFACE.
THE SUBJECT WILL BE---
“---will be what?”
THE SUBJECT WILL BE---
“---will be what? What? WHAT?”
A hand was placed over his mouth. Reich opened his eyes. He was in a small tiled room, an emergency police station. He was lying on a white table. Around him were grouped the guards, three uniformed police, unidentified strangers. All were writing carefully in report books, murmuring, shifting confusedly.
The stranger removed his hand from Reich's mouth and bent over him. “lt's all right,” he said gently.
“Easy. I'm a doctor...”
“A peeper?”
“What?”
“Are you a peeper? I need a peeper. I need somebody inside my head to prove I'm right. My God! I've got to know I'm right. I don't care about the price. I---”
“What's he want?” a policeman asked.
“I don't know. He said a peeper.” The doctor turned back to Reich. “What d'you mean by that? Just tell us. What's a peeper?”
“An Esper! A mind reader. A ---”
The doctor smiled. “He's joking. Show of high spirits. Many patients do that. They simulate sang froid after accidents. We call it Gallows Humor...”
“Listen,” Reich said desperately. “Let me up. I want to say something...”
They helped him up.
To the police, he said: “My name is Ben Reich. Ben Reich of Monarch. You know me. I want to confess. I want to confess to Lincoln Powell, the police prefect. Take me to Powell.”
“Who's Powell?”
“And what y'want to confess?”
“The D'Courtney murder. I murdered Craye D'Courtney last month. In Maria Beaumont's house... Tell Powell. I killed D'Courtney.”
The police looked at each other in surprise. One of them drifted to a corner and picked up an old-fashioned hand phone: “Captain? Got a character here. Calls himself Ben Reich of Monarch. Wants to confess to some prefect named Powell. Claims he killed a party named Craye D'Courtney last month.” After a pause, the policeman called to Reich: “How do you spell that?”
“D'Courtney! Capital D apostrophe Capital C-O-U-R-T-N-E-Y.”
The policeman spelled it out and waited. After another pause, he grunted and hung up. “A nut,” be said and stowed his notebook in a pocket.
“Listen---” Reich began.
“Is he all right?” the policeman asked the doctor without looking at Reich.
“Just shaken a little. He's all right.”
“Listen!” Reich shouted.
The policeman yanked him to his feet and propelled him toward the door of the station. “All right, buddy. Out!”
“You've got to listen to me! I---”
“You listen to me, buddy. There ain't no Lincoln Powell in the service. There ain't no D'Courtney killing in the books. And we ain't takin' no slok from your kind. Now... Out!” And he hurled Reich into the street.
The pavement was strangely broken. Reich stumbled, then regained his balance and stood still, numb, lost. It was darker... eternally darker. A few street lights were lit. The skyways were extinguished. The Jumpers had disappeared. There were great gaps shorn in the skyline.
“I'm sick,” Reich moaned. “I'm sick. I need help...”
He began to lurch down the broken streets with arms clutching his belly.
“Jumper!” he yelled. “Jumper? Isn't there anything in this God-forsaken city? Where is everything? Jumper!”
There was nothing.
“I'm sick... sick. Got to get home. I'm sick...” Again he shouted: “Isn't there anybody who can hear me? I'm sick. I need help... Help!... Help!” There was nothing.
He moaned again. Then he tittered... weakly, inanely. He sang in a broken voice: “Eight, sir... Five, sir... One, sir... Tenser said Tensor... Tension... 'prehension... 'ssention have begun...”
He called plaintively: “Where is everybody? Maria! Lights! Ma-ri-aaa! Stop this crazy Sardine game!” He stumbled.
“Come back,” Reich called. “For God's sake, come back! I'm all alone.”
No answer.
He was searching for 9 Park South, looking for the Beaumont Mansion, the site of D'Courtney's death... and Maria Beaumont, shrill, decadent, reassuring.
There was nothing.
A black tundra. Black sky. Unfamiliar desolation.
Nothing.
Reich shouted once... a hoarse, inarticulate yell of rage and fright.
No answer. Not even an echo.
“For God's sake!” he cried. “Where is everything? Bring it all back! There's nothing but space...”
Out of the enveloping desolation, a figure gathered and grew, familiar, ominous, gigantic... A figure of black shadows, looking, looming, silent... The Man With No Face. Reich watched it, paralyzed, transfixed.
Then the figure spoke: “There is no space. There is nothing.”
And there was a screaming in Reich's ears that was his voice, and a hammering pulse that was his heart. He was running down a yawning alien path, devoid of life, devoid of space, running before it was too late, too late, too late... running while there was still time, time, time---
He ran headlong into a figure of black shadows. A figure without a face. A figure that said: “There is no time. There is nothing.”
Reich backed away. He turned. He fell. He crawled feebly through eternal emptiness shrieking: “Powell! Duffy! Quizzard! Tate! Oh Christ! Where is everybody? Where is everything? For the love of God...”
And he was face to face with the Man With No Face who said: “There is no God. There is nothing.”
And now there was no longer escape. There was only a negative infinity and Reich and the Man With No Face. And fixed, frozen, helpless in that matrix, Reich at last raised his eyes and stared deep into the face of his deadly enemy... the man he could not escape... the terror of his nightmares... the destroyer of his existence...
It was...
Himself.
D'Courtney.
Both.
Two faces, blending into one. Ben D'Courtney. Craye Reich. D'Courtney-Reich. D'R.
He could make no sound. He could make no move. There was neither time nor space nor matter. There was nothing left but dying thought.
“Father?”
“Son.”
“You are me?”
“We are us.”
“Father and son?”
“Yes.”
“I can't understand... What's happened?”
“You lost the game, Ben.”
“The Sardine Game?”
“The Cosmic Game.”
“I won, I won. I owned every bit of the world. I---”
“And therefore you lose. We lose.”
“Lose what?”
“Survival.”
“I don't understand. I can't understand.”
“My part of us understands, Ben. You would understand too if you hadn't driven me from you.”
“How did I drive you from me?”
“With every rotten, distorted corruption in you.”
“You say that? You... betrayer, who tried to kill me?”
“That was without passion, Ben. That was to destroy you before you could destroy us. That was for survival. It was to help you lose the world and win the game, Ben.”
“What game? What Cosmic Game?”
“The maze... the labyrinth... all the universe, created as a puzzle for us to solve. The galaxies, the stars, the sun, the planets... the world as we knew it. We were the only reality. All the rest was make-believe... dolls, puppets, stage-settings... pretended passions. It was a make-believe reality for us to solve.”
“I conquered it. I owned if.”
“And you failed to solve it. We'll never know what the solution is, but it's not theft, terror, hatred, lust, murder, rapine. You failed, and it's all been abolished, disbanded...”
“But what's to become of us?”
“We are abolished too. I tried to warn you. I tried to stop you. But we failed the test.”
“But why? Why? Who are we? What are we?”
“Who knows? Did the seed know who or what it was when it failed to find fertile soil? Does it matter who or what we are? We have failed. Our test is ended. We are ended.”
“No!”
“Perhaps if we had solved it, Ben, it might have remained real. But it is ended. Reality has turned into might-have-been, and you have awakened at last... to nothing.”
“We'll go back! We'll try it again!”
“There is no going back. It is ended.”
“We'll find a way. There must be a way...”
“There is none. It is ended.”
It was ended.
Now... Demolition.