Exiles at the Well of Souls Read online

  "Oh, wow!" she exclaimed. "Hi! Zetta!"

  The centaur looked up at the girl and smiled indulgently. "Hello, Nikki," she responded automatically.

  Both Zinder and Yulin were fascinated.

  "Nikki, you don't see anything, er, odd about Zetta?" her father prompted.

  The girl shrugged. "Nope. Why? Should I?"

  Ben Yulin's mouth dropped open in honest surprise.

  * * *

  Over a week passed during which they noted various reactions to the new creature. Just about everyone at the center saw nothing unusual in Zetta Halib being half horse; that is, nothing newly unusual. They knew, of course, that she was a volunteer for the biological scientists attempting to adapt people to different forms. They knew she had been manipulated after conception to grow up as she had, and they remembered when she had arrived and recalled the initial reactions.

  Everything checked out, of course, except for the fact that none of what they remembered had actually happened. Reality needed to explain her and had adjusted accordingly. Only two men knew the truth.

  Ben Yulin puffed on his curved pipe in his boss's office, rocking lazily back and forth in a spindly chair.

  "So now we know," he said at last.

  The older scientist nodded and sipped some tea. "Yes, we do. We can take any individual, anything, and we can remake it if we can come up with the data Obie needs to make the transformation properly, and nobody will even know. Poor Zetta! A one-of-a-kind freak with a full history and memory of growing up that way. We'll have to change her back, of course."

  "Of course," Yulin agreed. "But let's let her keep her good looks. She's earned that much from us."

  "Yes, yes, of course." Zinder responded as if that meant little to him.

  "Something is still bothering you," Yulin noted.

  Gil Zinder sighed. "Yes, quite a lot. This is a terrible power, you know, to play god like this. And I don't like the idea of the Council getting control of it."

  Yulin looked surprised. "Well, they didn't blow all this money for nothing. Hell! We've done it, Gil! We've knocked conventional science into a cocked hat! We've shown them how easily the rules of the game can be changed!"

  The older scientist nodded. "True, true. We'll win all sorts of awards and all that. But—well, you know what's the real problem. Three hundred seventy-four human worlds. A lot. But all but a handful are Comworlds, conformist fantasies. Think what the rulers of those worlds could do to those people with a device like ours!"

  Yulin sighed. "Look, Gil, our way is no different than the crude methods they use now—biological manipulation, genetic engineering, all those things. Maybe things won't be so bad after all. Maybe our discovery will make things better. Hell, it can't make them much worse."

  "That's true," Zinder acknowledged. "But the power, Ben! And," he paused, turned in his swivel chair to face the younger scientist, "there's something else."

  "Huh? What?" Yulin responded.

  "The implications," the physicist said worriedly. "Ben, if all this, this chair, this office, you, me—if we're all just stable equations, matter created out of pure energy and somehow maintained as we are, what's keeping us stable? Is there a cosmic Obie someplace, keeping the primary equations balanced?"

  Ben Yulin chuckled. "I suppose there is, one way or another. God is nothing but a giant Obie. I kind of like that thought."

  Zinder didn't find it amusing in the least. "I think there is, Ben. There must be, if everything else is correct. Even Obie agrees. But who built it? Who maintains it?"

  "Well, if you want to be serious about it, I suppose the Markovians built it. For all I know they still maintain it," Yulin responded.

  Zinder considered that. "The Markovians. Yes, it must be. We've found their dead worlds and deserted cities all over. They must have done all this on a giant scale, Ben!" He was suddenly excited. "Of course! That's why they never found any artifacts in those old ruins! Whatever they wanted, they just told their version of Obie and there it was!"

  Yulin nodded approvingly. "You might be right."

  "But, Ben!" Zinder kept on. "All the worlds of theirs we've found! They're all dead!" He sat back in his chair, voice and manner calming a bit, but his tone still agitated. "I wonder—if they couldn't handle it, how can we?" He looked straight at the other scientist. "Ben, are we producing the means to wipe out the human race?"

  Yulin shook his head slowly from side to side. "I don't know, Gil. I hope not. But we haven't much choice. Besides," he smiled, tone lighter, "no matter what, we'll all be long gone before that point is reached."

  "I wish I had your confidence, Ben," Zinder said nervously. "Well, you're right on one thing. We have to deliver. Will you set it up?"

  Ben walked over and patted the old man on the shoulder. "Of course I'll make the arrangements," he assured the other. "Look, you worry too much, Gil. Trust me." His tone changed, became more self-confident. The other didn't notice. "Yes, I'll set it up."

  * * *

  In the old days there were nations, and they reached for space. And then there were planetary colonies of these nations, and they all had differing philosophies and life-styles. There followed wars, raids, engineered revolutions. Man expanded, the nations vanished, leaving behind only their philosophies for their heirs. Finally, rulers sick of it all got together and formed a trust. All competing ideologies were to be given free reign until one dominated a planet, but never by force and never with help from outside. Each planet would choose a member to sit on a great Council of Worlds and cast its vote.

  The great weapons of terror and destruction were placed under seal and guarded by a tough force born and bred to the service—a force that could not itself use those weapons without authority. Such authority could come only from a majority of the 374 Council members, each of whom would have to appear personally to open his share of the seals.

  Councillor Antor Trelig was one such guardian and a strong political force on the governing body. Technically, he represented the People's Party of New Outlook, a Comworld where people were bred to obedience and to function perfectly in their jobs. Actually, he represented a lot more, for he had a great deal of influence over other Council members as well. Some said he was ambitious enough to dream of one day controlling a majority, of holding in his hands the keys to the weapons that could wreck worlds.

  He was a big man, around 190 centimeters tall, who had broad shoulders and a strong hooknose set atop a squared jaw. He looked as though made of granite. But he didn't look like the power-mad villain many painted him as being, not standing there, fascinated, watching two men and a machine unmake a centaur.

  The scientists performed a few additional demonstrations for him, even asked him if he wanted to try it. Trelig declined with a nervous laugh. But, after talking to the girl who walked off the raised disk and after seeing reality readjust to her original existence, he was convinced.

  Later he relaxed with a very un-Com-like brandy in Zinder's office.

  "I can't tell you how stunned I am," he told them. "What you did is incredible, unbelievable. Tell me, could a huge one be built? One large enough to control whole planets?"

  Zinder suddenly became hostile. "I don't think doing so would be practical, Councillor. Too many variables."

  "It could be done," Ben Yulin put in, ignoring the angry look from his colleague. "But the cost and effort would be enormous!"

  Trelig nodded. "Such a cost would be negligible when compared with the benefits. Why, this could wipe out any possibilities of starvation, vagaries of climate, and what not. It could produce a utopia!"

  Or it could reduce the few free and individualistic worlds left to happy and obedient slavery, Zinder thought morosely. Aloud, he said, "I think it's a weapon, too, Councillor. A terrible one in the wrong hands. I believe that is what killed the Markovians a few million years ago. I would feel better if such a power were placed under Council Seal."

  Trelig sighed. "I don't agree. But, we'll never know without trying i
t out. Such a scientific breakthrough can't just be locked away and abandoned!"

  "I think it should be, and all traces of the research erased," Zinder maintained. "What we have is the power to play god. I don't think we're ready for that yet."

  "You can't uninvent something once invented, regardless of its implications," Trelig pointed out. "But, I agree, word should be kept under wraps. If even the knowledge of your discovery got out, it would inspire a million other scientists. I think, for now, you should pull the project out of here and move to some place safe, isolated."

  "And where would this safe place be?" Zinder asked skeptically.

  Trelig smiled. "I have a place, a planetoid with full life-support, normal gravity maintenance, and the like. I use it as a resort. It would be ideal."

  Zinder felt uneasy, remembering Trelig's sleazy reputation.

  "I don't think so," he told the big man. "I think I'd rather put the matter to the full Council next week and let the members decide."

  Trelig acted as if he expected that response. "Sure you won't reconsider, Doctor? New Pompeii is a wonderful place, much nicer than this sterile horror."

  Zinder understood what he was being offered.

  "No, I stand firm," the old scientist told the politician. "Nothing can make me change my mind."

  Trelig sighed. "That's it, then. I'll arrange for a Council meeting a week from tomorrow. You and Dr. Yulin will attend, of course."

  The big man stood up and moved to leave. As he did so, he smiled and nodded slowly at Ben Yulin, who returned the nod. Zinder didn't notice.

  Ben Yulin would set it up, all right.

  * * *

  Nikki Zinder slept quietly in her own room, a room littered with exotic clothes, various toys, games, and gimmicks strewn about in no particular order. Her huge bed almost enveloped her.

  A figure stopped at the door to that room and, after checking to make sure that no one was approaching, took out a small screwdriver and unscrewed the door pressure plate, carefully, so that the door alarm wouldn't be triggered. The plate off, the figure studied the small exposed modules and placed some spirit gum at several critical points. One module was removed and adjusted by placing a small strip of silvery material between two contacts not otherwise connected.

  Satisfied, the intruder replaced the covering plate and meticulously screwed it back on. Replacing the screwdriver on a tool belt, he hesitated a second, tension getting to him, then pressed the contact.

  There was a soft click, but nothing else happened.

  Breathing easier now, he removed a tiny nodule of clear liquid from another pouch on the belt and attached an injector tab to it. Holding it carefully, injector out, he went to the twin solid door to the girl's room and slowly pressed on one section with his free hand, then moved it slightly to the right.

  The door opened quietly, without the pneumatic hiss or any other appreciable sound that could be heard or detected over the residual air conditioning of the building. Opening the door just enough to slip inside, he turned and closed it quietly behind him.

  By the dull glow of a baseboard nightlight he made out the sleeping figure of Nikki Zinder. She lay on her back, mouth open, snoring slightly.

  Slowly, stealthily, he tiptoed to her bedside, until he stood almost over her. He froze as she mumbled something in her sleep and turned slightly on one side, moving away from him. Patiently he leaned over and peeled a bit of the sheet away from her, exposing her upper right arm. The hand with the injector and nodule reached over, and he placed it firmly on her arm.

  His touch was so gentle that she did not awaken, but gave out a low moan and turned again on her back. Nodule empty, the man withdrew the tiny packet and put it in his pocket.

  She did seem to be awakening a little, left hand coming over and feeling the muscle on the right. Then the arm suddenly seemed to lose its ability to move, and it limply fell away. Her breathing became heavier, more labored.

  Taking a deep breath, he leaned over, touched her, shook her hard. She did not respond.

  Smiling in satisfaction, he sat beside her on the bed, bent over close to her.

  "Nikki, do you hear me?" he asked softly.

  "Uh, huh," she mumbled.

  "Nikki, listen carefully," he instructed. "When I say 'one hundred' again, you will begin counting down from there to zero. When you reach zero, you will get up, go out of this room, and come immediately to the lab. To the ground floor of the lab, Nikki. There you will find a large, round platform right in the middle of the floor, and you will stand on it. You will stand on it and you will not be able to move from the middle of it, nor will you want to. You will be frozen there, and you will still be sound asleep. Do you understand all that?"

  "I understand," she responded dreamily.

  "Avoid being seen going to the lab," he cautioned. "Do anything to keep from being seen. But, if you are seen, act normal, get rid of anyone quickly, and don't tell where you're really going. Will you do that?"

  "Uh huh," she acknowledged.

  He rose from the bed and went over to the door, which still worked on automatics from the bedroom side. It was free, though, and he opened it a crack, saw no one, then opened it a little wider. He stepped into the hall, turned, and almost closed the door.

  "One hundred, Nikki," he said, and closed it all the way.

  Satisfied, he walked down the corridor almost a hundred meters, meeting no one and noting with satisfaction that all the doors were closed. He entered the elevator, and the door to the capsule closed.

  "Yulin, Abu Ben, YA–356–47765–7881–GX, Full clearance, Lab 2 level, please," he said. The elevator checked him visually, checked his ID number and voice prints, then descended rapidly to the lab floor.

  Once on the balcony, he walked over to his control panel and switched it to active mode.

  He flipped the switch to Obie.

  "Obie?" he called.

  "Yes, Ben?" came that soft, friendly reply.

  Yulin punched some buttons on his keyboard.

  "Unnumbered transaction," he responded with a calmness he didn't feel. "File in aux storage under my key only."

  "What are you doing, Ben?" Obie asked curiously. "That is a mode even I can't use. I had no idea it was in there until you used it."

  Ben Yulin smiled. "That's all right, Obie. Even you don't have to remember everything."

  What Obie had discovered, and Ben was enjoying, was the mode by which he could use Obie and then have Obie file the record of what was done in such a way that even the great computer couldn't get at it. Obie would still perform normally, but have a case of total amnesia not only about what Ben was about to do but about his even being there.

  Yulin heard the elevator door open below. He looked over the balcony and saw Nikki, dressed only in that flimsy nightgown, walk normally and deliberately into the lab chamber and step up onto the disk. Centering herself, she stood erect, her eyes closed, and she seemed frozen, a statue except for barely perceptible breathing.

  "Record subject in aux mode, Obie," Yulin instructed. The big mirror overhead swung out, centered over the disk, and shot out the blue ray. Nikki flickered once or twice, then vanished. The ray cut off.

  It would be tempting, Yulin thought, just to leave her there. But, no, the risk was too great. She would probably have to be produced in the end, and he didn't want her on that disk with Zinder at the controls.

  "Obie, this will be an unstable equation. It will not adjust. The act of change shall in itself be part of reality."

  "Yes, Ben," the computer responded. "There will be no reality adjustment."

  Yulin nodded in satisfaction.

  "Psychological adjustment only, Obie," he told the great machine.

  "Ready," responded Obie.

  "Maximum emotional-sexual response level," he ordered. "Subject is to be fixated on Dr. Ben Yulin, data in your banks. Subject will be madly, irrationally in love with Yulin, and will think of nothing but Yulin. Will do anything for Yulin, will be loyal
only to Yulin, without exception. Subject will consider herself the willing property of said Ben Yulin. Code it 'love-slave mode' for future reference and store in aux one."

  "Done," the computer acknowledged.

  "Sequence, then store as soon as both humans have left the lab."

  "Sequencing," the computer said, and Yulin looked over the balcony. The blue light had flipped on again, and Nikki, still the same and still wearing the same nightgown, winked back in. She was still frozen.

  Yulin cursed himself. It'd been less than twenty minutes since he had administered the dosage which was good for probably three times that. He'd taken no chances.

  "Additional instructions, Obie," he shot back. "Remove all traces of the drug Stepleflin from subject and restore subject at full wakefulness, with the equivalent of eight hours sleep. Do this immediately, then return to previous instructions."

  The computer accepted the new instructions, the blue light went on, Nikki flickered but did not wink out for more than half a second this time, then was back, awake, looking in amazement about the lab.

  Yulin leaned over the railing. "Hey, Nikki!"

  She looked up, spotted him, and the look on her face was suddenly so full of rapture that she appeared to be seeing the face of god. She trembled and moaned in ecstasy at the sight of him.

  "Come up to this level, Nikki," he instructed, and she all but ran off the disk to the elevator. She was next to him in less than two minutes. She continued to look at him in awe and wonder. He lightly touched her cheek with his hand and an orgasmic shudder went through her. He nodded, satisfied.

  "Come with me, Nikki," he ordered softly, taking her hand. She gripped it and followed. They boarded the elevator, and Yulin told it to rise to the surface.

  The top level opened onto a small park, dimly lit by the artificial light of the clear dome. The stars shown distantly from horizon to horizon. She hadn't uttered a sound, asked a question, during all this.

  There were a few people about. But since much of the research center was devoted to thousands of other projects, many kept different hours for various reasons, some just because of the need to share facilities.