The Shores of Death (12 page)

Take shook his head. “Another of your jokes, Olono. You know I would not do that—”

Marca broke in: “I thought so. You have talked about the horror of immortality, but, now it comes to it, you want to keep your life after all! ”

Take lost his temper. “I can think of no words to describe your crassness, Clovis Marca. You were once admired for your sense—you must be a fraud! ”

“Please,” hissed Sharvis, seating his huge body on a couch. “I dislike to see two men such as you insulting one another. Make up your minds.”

Marca breathed heavily, controlling his own anger. “But I am right, I think, Take.”

Take did not speak for a moment, but when he did, his voice was wistful. “I desire death probably with a greater intensity than you desire eternal life, Marca. You have missed the subtlety of Olono’s bargain. He knows that I have striven to prevent you from doing something that will cause you terrible misery, that I would have no other human being suffer what I suffer. There is only one emotion that moves me, now, and it is that suffering. Happiness and love are denied me. I sought only to prevent that suffering in you. Now he offers me peace at the price of passing my curse on to you—do you see? ”

Marca waved his hand impatiently. “Let me have it, let me have it—I will make use of it, if you dare not! ” Take moved way, walking towards the shifting wall.

“What does all this mean? Is there a solution? Before you continue, let me point out that a war has started between Earth and the outworlders—the project has been abandoned, Narvo Velusi and Fastina Cahmin have disappeared, Andros Aimer has seized power and it is likely that the Earth’s chance of escaping the galaxy are negligible.”

Marca was shocked. “They have two hundred years. This could only be a minor incident, things will calm down. The people will listen to me.”

“Still complacent? Then try to convince them—return now—mortal like them—and you might do it. You will not otherwise.”

“
Make up your mind, Ezek,” said Sharvis from behind them.

Take turned slowly round, his oddly-held head regarding Marca with a deep searching look. Then he shrugged.
“
You are a saint, Clovis Marca, though you do not know it. Who else would relieve me of such a burden? ”

Sharvis got up. “Good, gentlemen. If you will say goodbye to one another, I will ready my equipment at once.”

When Marca eventually
 
awoke it was with a feeling of intense numbness throughout his body, as if he was paralysed. Yet when he tried to move his arms, he found that they responded perfectly. He smiled at Olono Sharvis.

“Thank you. You have done it, I take it? ”

“Yes. Poor Ezek’s few remains were flushed away two days ago. What a shame that this was the only way. There are still only two immortals in the galaxy—yet two who will at least enjoy what they have. Perhaps you will tell others of what I can do—tell them where they can find me?”

“Of course.”

“While I was operating, I received a couple of visitors.

You know them both, I believe.”

“Who are they? ”

“One is Philas Damiago—a mutual acquaintance. He brought a young woman here. She was in an hysterical condition. Luckily I was able to do something for her. I think she will be all right now. Fastina Cahmin.”

“Fastina! She has followed me again.” He made to get up, then he relaxed. “Good. I remember I felt very tenderly towards her. Now that I am immortal, perhaps we can spend more time together.” He stretched. It was a reflex action. It gave him no satisfaction. “Ah, the years of pleasure ahead! ”

“Yes, indeed,” said Olono Sharvis. “Come—you may find a moment’s difficulty getting your balance, but that will go. Let us join your friends.”

This time he confronted Damiago and Fastina in the Alodios chamber. He had seen no mirror, so he did not know if his appearance were changed. As he entered the room, Fastina’s face brightened with pleasure.

“Clovis! Clovis! You
are
all right. I wasn’t sure . . . ” as she came towards him, she glanced somewhat apprehensively at Sharvis.

“Many people suspect Olono Sharvis’s motives,” he said, “but you can take it from me, he’s my benefactor.” He looked at her in surprise as her expression changed to alarm. “What is it? ”

“Your voice—it’s—it’s ...”

His voice sounded normal to him. “Your memories contain a pleasanter voice, perhaps? ” He smiled. It wasn’t very easy, he had to make his lips move in a smile, it was a conscious action. She appeared to notice it, too, which was worse.

She said quietly. “There’s something wrong, Clovis.” Behind them there was a rustle as Sharvis folded his arms.

“No—I’m still feeling numb, that’s all—after the operation. It will wear off, won’t it, Sharvis? ”

Sharvis shook his head.
“
I’m afraid not.”

Marca didn’t comprehend for a moment. “What. . .? ”

“But you will get used to it. I have.”

“You? You have this—this lack of sensation? ”

“Mental sensations soon replace the physical kind. I find much that is stimulating, still.” Sharvis smiled politely.

Marca felt despair. “Then you did trick me? ”

“Soon you will appreciate such intellectual experiments. Take was too weak. But you are strong. Believe me, Clovis Marca.”

Damiago stepped forward. “Well,” he said to Fastina, “I brought you here.”

She nodded.

Damiago looked at Marca. His lean face had some sort of emotion in it. It meant nothing to Marca. Then Damiago looked at Sharvis.

Damiago smiled admiringly at the scientist, and the scientist smiled back. Damiago shook his head. “You have made him invulnerable, too? You took that away from him. You frighten me, Olono. I wish I had the courage to learn from you.”

Sharvis’s smile widened as he continued to look into Damiago’s face. “Courage? ” he said. “You have something much more valuable—you have common sense.” Marca was still baffled. He could not believe that Sharvis had duped him.

“Well,” said Damiago, “I’d better be going.” Fastina had recovered a little. She said urgently to Clovis: “Did you know that Narvo was dead? Murdered by Aimer’s men? Earth is in chaos. As soon as I realised what Aimer was prepared to do, I left in Narvo’s ship. I knew you’d gone to the Bleak Worlds and I was lucky—I came to Klobax first. I was fired on twice by ships heading for Earth. They must be making weapons on the outworlds. Aimer has banned everyone not already there from landing. He’s even deported a lot of people—even those from Mars and Ganymede. You know what that means to people—few can survive for long away from Earth. They’re attacking. You’ve got to come back, depose Aimer, set up some sort of sane government again. You’re the only one who can, Clovis.” Marca nodded. “It’s in my interest.” He thought again and looked at Sharvis. “Or is it? ”

You always —
pom pom
—hurt—
ta-ra
— the one—

ta ti di
you love—the one—
pom pom ....

Three people left
Klobax, left that archetypal world for Earth. Clovis Marca, untouched now by the space-ache, guided the ship on manual controls. In cocoons lay Fastina and Damiago, who had asked to accompany them.

Time was speeded up for him and it seemed a very brief journey before they were in the outer limits of the solar system and he saw the war-fleet.

It could be nothing else. He noticed gun-mountings, wondered at the control men must be exercising to work calmly in space. It had been done before, but at a time when people were more used to it, better trained to cope with the space-ache.

He contacted the leading vessel on his pathfone. A man’s face looked out of the screen. To his surprise it was Barre Calax, Chief Controller of Ganymede Metals. Calax recognised him.

“So you have returned, Clovis. You know what is happening? All my suspicions confirmed. Whose side are you on? ”

Marca spoke slowly and with difficulty, noting the tightness about Calax’s face. “I fight on no-one’s side—I want to go to Earth and speak to the people. You know they will listen to me, Barre. I can convince them to stop this business, get rid of Aimer and start on the project again.”

“You could convince them of anything before, I admit. We don’t want to fight, Clovis. I’ll let you through and wait to hear what you achieve. But these aren’t the civilised folk of the Earth you left—these are crazed animals. You will need all your skill to sway them.”

“Don’t worry. Thanks, Barre.” Marca cut-out and aimed the ship for Earth.

Andros Aimer was enjoying another meeting in the Great Glade in which he was exhorting the mob to do their utmost for the war-effort and ensure their chances of going on to a better galaxy. The crowd was cheering so heartily that they did not notice Marca’s arrival at first.

Marca moved with something like the old dignity. He stepped up on the dais behind Aimer and said loudly:

“My friends, he is lying to you.”

That was what some of them heard. When the others fell silent as Aimer, angry-faced, whirled on Marca, Clovis repeated what he had said.

Aimer laughed in Marca’s face. “Here is the man who abandoned us when we needed him. We don’t need him now, do we? ”

The crowd was still silent. As Fastina and Damiago, who had nowhere else to go, climbed up behind Marca, Aimer called to his men—stone-faced men with hypo-guns—“Kill him! ”

The crowd was not horrified. It simply seemed curious. Everyone craned forward as Aimer’s men drew their guns and fired at Clovis Marca who did not move.

Nothing happened. “Grab him! ” Aimer yelled. “He’s got some sort of immunity.”

For the first time, Marca became aware of Sharvis’s built-in super-fast reflexes. Sharvis had given him a new instinct and a means of using it. He stepped back from the men and then forward, grabbing a gun from one of them. He shot them down and then, before he fully realised it, shot Aimer, too.

The crowd remained quiet, but now it was expectant. It waited for him to speak.

Disdainfully he threw down the gun.

‘ We stopped using such things four hundred years ago. Now I return to find you about to embark on a fratricidal war! ” He tried to sound angry, but he realised his voice mirrored his lack of emotion. He could not summon any kind of emotion. He paused. They waited.

“You were frightened, I can understand that, and Aimer traded on your fear. But there is no need for fear now. We must continue with the project. It is our only hope of salvation from the destruction facing the galaxy.”

A few people cheered him, but the cheering was sporadic. Evidently he was not moving them. Somehow they sensed that the man facing them was not the man who had left Earth.

Fastina stepped forward and shouted at them. “Listen to him! Listen to him! ”

Someone called: “What’s the matter with him? What’s the matter with Clovis Marca? ”

Fastina’s reply was much less fiery. “Nothing. You followed him before—follow him now.”

Marca stood listening. He found it hard to pay much attention.

Another voice, a disturbed voice, yelled: “He’s like a dead man—and the way he moves isn’t human—what is he? A robot you’ve fixed up to try and fool us? ”

Marca had to speak. He said flatly: "I am Clovis Marca, but I have only just returned from space—you know what space does to you. Please listen to me—go home now and I will broadcast to you all tomorrow when I have been able to form some sort of government. Things will settle down. I will communicate with the outworld fleet and tell them that Aimer is dead. Go home now.”

But only one or two rose. The rest were still waiting. What was it? He could give them nothing more. Even his last speech was an effort. He turned to Fastina.

“They’re not really listening to me, are they? What do I need to tell them? ”

“You would have known before,” she said quietly. “Clovis—I loved you—you are not Clovis any more. You are . . . ”

Then Damiago spoke. “Forget it, Marca. Give them time. Perhaps later ...”

But now some of them were shouting. Fastina took Marca’s arm. “They’re still baffled,” she said.
“
I think we’d better get away from here now.”

At that moment someone shouted: “Aimer was right! He abandoned us—he’s only come back because we were doing what
we
wanted to do. He killed Aimer—it was jealousy! ”

The mob began to move towards them as they sped upward* to their aircar. Damiago glanced behind him. He grinned. “Goodbye, Marca—I’m with them,” and he veered off.

As Marca sat slumped in his seat, Fastina activated the car. They sped away at full speed.

Fastina wept as she steered the car. She headed out towards the desert where, with luck, the mob would not look for them.

“Clovis—how are you? ”

“Numb,” he said. “I’m numb—I haven’t—I can’t— ” A terrible sense of loss engulfed him, but he could not, it seemed, weep.

Soon after the cool desert night had come, they sat together on the hard sand, their backs against the grounded aircar.

He had just made love to her, desperately trying to recapture his lost sensations without success, but it was rape and a horrible kind of rape and they both knew it.

“Well,” she said. “You have your immortality. But I still wonder why you sought it when you thought that Earth was bound to perish.”

“So do I,” was all he said.

Later, in a different mood, he made some sort of attempt to answer. He spoke vaguely. “I heard the news and I went away and thought about it. I thought of all those crowd-scened centuries of history; all those populated hours. I thought of all the sets crumbling and their bright dust scattering and drifting into eternity . . . Somehow I had the idea of preserving it all in me—so that I’d become a kind of walking record of it all—I couldn’t accept that I would ever die. I don’t know ...”

“But they’re throwing their chance away. You will die if that happens. The fools! ”

“No. I can’t condemn them for losing sight of their goal. It seems to be an irremediable flaw in the human character—to go for something more immediate and easier to grasp—to forget the difficult things. I did the same thing in my own way.” He sighed. “Oh, I am empty . . . empty ...”