Fantastic Stories Presents the Fantastic Universe Super Pack #2. William Logan
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Paul,” said Eddie, “but can’t that wait? We’ll need every man here when we—”
Sorgel interrupted him. “I’ve made one or two changes in Glenna’s original plan. It was too impractical. A handful of men can’t take over half a galaxy.”
“Glenna and Hurd weren’t after the entire Planetary Union, Paul—that’s out of the question. We meant to liberate Agron first. The capital is here and for awhile the government would be disrupted. When the people on the other planets saw how much better our social organization had become, modeled on the Vininese system, they would stage their own revolutions just like ourselves.”
Sorgel laughed scornfully. “And in the meantime, of course, none of them would think of attacking you and throwing your people out?”
“Not if we seized the Nuclear Beam Transmitters,” said Dirrul, “no space-fleet could come near us then.”
“Eddie, you’ve lived in Agron too long. You’re not thinking straight when you try to build the Plan around a single weapon.”
“Why not, Paul? It’s a perfect defense. In less than thirty seconds the Beam Transmitters can charge the entire stratospheric envelope of Agron. Nothing can move through it without disintegrating, yet life on the surface of the planet would go on quite normally because the atmosphere serves as an insulation.”
“Technically it’s a change in the form of energy, not a disintegration,” Sorgel reminded him. “The beamed electrons unite with the atoms of visible material substances and alter them. I quite understand the process, Eddie—Vinin has the Beam too, you know.”
“Because the Agronian scientists gave you the specifications!”
“That always has rankled, hasn’t it?” said Sorgel.
“Yes,” Dirrul admitted. “If the Vininese scientists had discovered the Beam-reaction first they would have conquered the galaxy.”
“Conquer is a nasty word, Eddie,” Sorgel said softly. “Vinin makes no conquests. Let’s put it differently and say we would have used the Beam to bring peace to the galaxy instead of splitting it in two as it is now.”
“Glenna’s Plan can change all that, at least here on Agron.”
“Face the facts, Eddie! A few conscientious people with ideals can’t take over a planet. The Movement has its crews trained to capture the Beam Transmitters. You’ll isolate Agron and seize the government offices simultaneously. What happens then?”
“Our people will rise and join us,” said Eddie. “We’ll create a new government modeled on Vinin’s and we’ll have young leaders instead of murky thinkers like Dr. Kramer.”
“That’s effective propaganda for speechmaking, but—”
“Glenna pounded away at it too, Paul,” said Eddie. “It was the most telling line in winning our new crop of recruits.”
“Which is precisely why the police disposed of her. But it won’t work. The people won’t rise. A mob is lethargic, too willing to keep things as they are. Here on Agron you’ve been coddled too long with luxuries and easy living. You have to prod the mob awake with a shock-force, a force coming from the outside.”
“How, Paul? We haven’t enough people in the Movement to put on any real show of strength. We can’t even get outside.”
“Now you understand the changes I’ve made in Glenna’s Plan. You people in the Movement will seize the Beam Transmitters as originally planned. Then you’ll simply hold them and keep them decommissioned long enough for a Vininese space-fleet to land. We’ll set up your new government for you.”
“And the rest of the Planetary Union will go to war!”
“It hardly matters,” said Paul. “Once we’re here the Beams will protect us against counterattack and every planet in the Vininese Confederacy has the same defense. One by one we can liberate the planets of the Union in the same way. But the timing is vital, of course—that’s why you have to go to Vinin.”
“I had a vacation leave only three months ago. I can’t get tourist passage now without—”
“I’ve considered that. You’ll have to have your own space-ship.”
“Now wait a minute, Paul! It’s one thing to borrow a surface jet but a space-cruiser...!”
“A cruiser, yes—not an old cargo ship. And you can handle that without a crew.”
“It can’t be done, Paul.” Dirrul held his Glo-Wave nervously to the end of a cigarette. “Besides, I want to think this through carefully before I make up my mind.”
“A merchant ship made a crash landing at Barney’s emergency field yesterday,” said Paul. “The damage was slight, but the pilot—unfortunately the pilot is dead.” Sorgel smiled enigmatically. “Barney’s one of our best men. He’s been on the lookout for a chance like this for weeks.
“You’ll leave tonight. Avoid the regular space lanes. I’m guessing you’ll be on Vinin in a hundred days at the outside. On the fiftieth day after that—exactly one hundred and fifty days from now—our Vininese space-fleet must make a landing on Agron.”
“I’ll be missed, Paul—they’ll make inquiries.”
“And get no satisfactory answers.”
Pacing the floor, Dirrul asked tensely, “Does everyone in the Movement know about this?”
“The vote was made unanimously yesterday.”
“One of the others must have a vacation leave coming up. Send him. We’re not at war with Vinin. He could take one of the regular space excursions.”
“I can’t send a message in writing. It would be picked up by the customs police. And you’re the only one who can carry it verbally, Eddie. You know the whole background because you worked with Glenna and Hurd. You’ve been in the Movement longer than any of the others.”
“Why not go yourself, Paul?”
“I can do more for the liberation if I stay here.”
“I wish I’d been at the meeting yesterday when the vote was taken. I’d have liked to discuss it with the others before—”
“Why so many questions, Eddie? Why so many doubts all of a sudden?” Sorgel stood and faced Dirrul, holding his shoulders in a grip that hurt. “Are you trying to back out? Maybe it wasn’t a good thing to let you play around with the science boys after all. Be honest with me, Eddie. If you’re not sure where you stand, say so. There’s no room in the Movement for traitors.”
When Dirrul said nothing Sorgel added in a voice that rang with fervor, “You’re the only man in the Movement who has had any training as a space-pilot. It depends on you now—everything you’ve ever dreamed of, everything Glenna and Hurd wanted. Can you forget what the Agronian police did to Glenna? Is your courage any less than hers?” Again Sorgel paused but still Dirrul said nothing. “The future of your world depends on you, Eddie—don’t let it down.”
“I’ll go,” Dirrul whispered.
As Eddie made up his mind his internal tension relaxed and he was filled with a sense of well-being. When he thought about it he couldn’t understand why he had hesitated—unless perhaps what Sorgel suggested was true—that his contact with the Ad-Air faculty had blunted and nearly perverted his established sense of values.
An hour later Dirrul boarded the battered antiquated space cargo carrier on the launching rack at Barney’s emergency field. At the last minute Sorgel pressed a curious disk into his hand. Made of a very light metal and suspended from a short chain it was two inches in diameter and covered with a complex grid design.
“Put it around your neck before you land, Eddie. Don’t