Address: Centauri by F. L. Wallace (best ereader for graphic novels .txt) 📗

"It's not exactly jewelry." Jordan tried to think of how to explain it. Anti was unscientific, or better—prescientific. "Think of it as a complicated machine that's remotely connected to your mind."

"My mind? Am I supposed to be telepathic now? Is that what it is? Can I talk with anyone, no matter at what distance they are?"

"No, you're not telepathic except well maybe in a certain way."

Jordan was silent, trying to sort the explanation. It never occurred to her that machines operated at different levels, many of them simultaneously, electrical or electromagnetic, others more subtle. Jordan gave up. "Think of what you'd most like to do."

"It's no use, Jordan. I won't torment myself. I know how long it's going to take."

He should have kept it and demonstrated. That would have convinced her. He would never forget the first time he had worn it—and nearly frightened himself off the ceiling. He cast about for other ways but nothing else was necessary. Anti was thinking of what she'd forbidden herself to contemplate.

"There," said Jordan, his voice rough with pride. "I knew you'd get the hang of it."

"Why didn't you say so?" said Anti. "The gravity computer. My mind and that mind."

For a prescientific person she'd grasped the essentials quickly. "Jordan, maybe you should keep it," she called. "You can use it as well as I can."

"I don't need it," he said. "Nobody's heard me complaining. And you can't, or couldn't move." He gazed at her in alarm. "Come on down," he shouted. "You can't catch the stars by yourself."

"You think I can't?" said Anti. "I'll come closer to it than anyone who ever lived."

Nevertheless she obeyed his instructions, sinking slowly until her feet touched the ground. The grass crackled and smouldered, though it was green, bursting into flame where she walked as the acid dripped down. And it was walking, though her legs carried only a fraction of her real weight. The rest of the weight was destroyed for her convenience by the gravity computer as it responded continually and repeatedly to her unspoken commands.

"The doctor will be surprised," muttered Jordan.

"Not as much as I am," said Anti. "I can fly if I want, but do you know, I'd rather walk."

Docchi teetered on the chair. Not much; if he fell he had no way of stopping himself, and there was the devil's own time getting up. "I'm speechless," he said.

"So was Cameron," said Anti.

"I imagine. He didn't expect his prognosis to be disproved so soon." Docchi righted the chair. "This is the thing Jordan's been working on."

"He said he didn't have much to do with it. He would." Anti moved warily. The acid soaked robe had stopped dripping but there was enough left to react with subdued violence if she came into contact with the wrong substance. "The best is I'm already stronger—using my muscles more. I don't have an exact way of knowing since there aren't gadgets and dials in my mind but it seems to me I can support a lot more of my weight. Maybe I can walk unaided at quarter gravity."

Docchi let the calls, of which there were several, go unattended. It was the first big personal victory for any accidental and it was heartening amidst the general uncertainties. "Fine, fine. But how long can you continue? Won't you revert?"

"Cameron says I won't. He made several tests which indicate the virulence of the fungus. He says the body conquers."

And for her it had. The biological mechanism had reached the point of strength wherein it could contain the attenuated invasion with little outside help. After some indefinite period the menace would be reduced, finally vanquished, utterly and forever. The body conquered.

"Cameron says it will be enough to sleep in the tank. I don't mind, though I won't get much sleep. I feel the cold now, though not as much as anyone else would.

"For the rest I'll increase the weight on my legs as much as I can. It's almost automatic; no buttons to push except mentally. If I get tired I think myself lighter."

The mechanism couldn't be improved on. It was a portable null gravity field that fit neatly around her and touched nothing else. And if Anti had reported Jordan's views correctly, it was impossible to build another like it because they didn't have the parts. It was an excellent device but not of great importance except to Anti. Jordan could use one too and so could a number of others though they wouldn't get it. It replaced legs and was more efficient in all respects save appearance.

There was nothing, however, that was a substitute for hands.

"Now that you're up and moving, what do you want to do?" he said. "You must be anxious to get busy."

"It's a funny thing but I'm not," she said. "It sounds queer but I want to look around. I haven't seen anything except what I could glimpse from the tank."

Docchi rocked back; he'd always thought of her as knowing more about the asteroid than anyone else. In a personal sense she did, having been there longer than anyone he could name. It was said she may even have been responsible for the building of the asteroid, so they'd have some place to put her. It might be true. "Go ahead. Jordan will show you around. You don't have to be in a hurry to take a job."

Anti rose a few inches to show that she could. "First I want to visit the laboratory Nona has. I want to see the ship that's after us. I know they haven't given up just because they can't land."

He felt so too though he hadn't figured out what they could do. "Let me know if anything occurs to you."

When she left, walking by preference, the responsibilities came back, Maureen and other deficients with various degrees of disability, the ship with undetermined resources behind them, stars and planets ahead of them, unknown or vaguely guessed at, mysterious. They'd reach their goal but all of the accidentals might not survive.

Anti alone was better off but there were others who were not. It was depressing at times, so much freedom and so little to show for it. Docchi went back to work but the image of the ship kept rising up out of the countless important and unimportant decisions he had to make. What did they plan to do?

Late the following day Anti returned. She marched in determinedly and sat down. It was no longer remarkable that a few chairs would fit her. She'd never be mistaken for someone else, but her bulk had diminished considerably and her weight was whatever she wanted. That the chair didn't collapse in a soggy mass or burst into flame was an indication that Jordan had found a way to neutralize the acid that clung to her without reducing the medical effectiveness. "Nice place we have," she remarked. "Didn't realize it was so pretty."

"There are others who disagree."

"They don't really see it. The only thing I don't like is the ship."

"Neither do I. What do you think?"

"Well——" Anti hesitated. "What did it look like to you?"

He described it as he remembered, answering the questions with which she kept interrupting. After he finished she was silent, nodding to herself as if he wasn't there. "You know what I think," she said. "You saw it three quarters, from the front. When I looked it was flatter. They're gaining."

Docchi glanced out the window. "Anti, they can't land here unless we let them—and we won't. What else can they do?"

"It's a military ship. They've got the force to stop us."

"Not without shattering the dome, or blowing the place apart. And they won't. You don't cure a sick person by killing him, and for their own peace of mind they've convinced themselves that we're sick."

"So we're safe there," commented Anti dubiously. "They figured at first they'd sneak up and land before we knew it. The scanner squashed that. But they had other plans from the very beginning, what they'd do if we discovered them in time." She nodded and nodded. "Well, if it was me and I couldn't stop somebody, I'd try to get where they're going before they did. It ties right in, doesn't it? They don't want us to contact aliens. All they have to do is get there first."

Of course. It was very plain, but anxiety had prevented his seeing it. Fearfulness was often next door to stupidity. Whoever got there first controlled the situation even more than Anti realized. He began to suspect the depth of preparation that was against them, the intense fury and careful planning they had to overcome. Mankind was capable of more hatred for its own kind than it ever expended against outsiders. Methodically Docchi began kicking open switches.

"You're right, Anti," he said. "But I think there are ways to see that they don't get there first." He was lying blithely, perhaps as much because he didn't want to face what he foresaw. "If those don't work, and there's a chance they won't, we have an unexpected ally."

"Who?"

"Not who, what. Distance." It was a most preposterous untruth. "If we don't get there in time we'll let them have both of the Centauris. We'll go on to the next star."

"You can always think of some way out," said Anti as tiny lights began to flash on the panel. The flickering confusion there matched his emotions.

"Jordan?" he said urgently when the latter appeared on the screen. And after that there was Webber and anyone else who knew something about electronics or could be taught with a minimum of instruction. They were willing to drive themselves to exhaustion but there was no substitute for technical superiority.

"Now don't worry," said Anti after he'd finished summoning everyone who could help. "I have a feeling they can't stop us no matter what they do."

"That so?" he said. "Which toe tells you that, or is it an ache in your bones? Think it will rain tomorrow?"

"Don't laugh," said Anti, rising and leaving with him as he hurried out. "I have confidence in what we're able to do together."

It was a good thing someone did.

"Maureen's getting worse," said Jeriann. "I need more power." There was a tiny bead of sweat on her temple, the first Docchi had seen since ordinarily she didn't perspire.

"How much worse? I'd like to see her."

Jeriann made a final adjustment on the machine but didn't straighten up immediately as if it disturbed her to contemplate what went on in her own mind. She snapped the synthesizer on and turned around, brushing the hair away from her eyes. "Do you think your diagnosis is better than Cameron's?"

"I wasn't doubting his ability."

"You'll have to take our word for it. I can see her because I'm a woman and she hardly reacts to me. Cameron can visit her because she's been conditioned to accept him. Even so he has to take precautions. The hypnotics control only the surface of her mind."

"What precautions?"

"Sprays that plasticize his skin. By now her senses are far keener than ours. The doctor has a cosmetic technician recreate his face, something impersonal with which she had no association."

"I'll take your word for it. I don't want to see her under those conditions. But you didn't answer my question: how much worse?"

The smock was clearly a laboratory garment to protect the wearer from chemical irritation and the chemicals from human contamination. It was only incidental there was a certain light in which it was almost transparent. Jeriann became aware she was standing in such a light and swished the smock angrily around her and moved out of the illumination. "I can tell you this: neither Cameron nor I will be responsible for keeping her alive longer than three weeks, unless I get that power."

"Is this what Cameron said?"

"It's my own idea. I know more about this machine than he does. But you can ask him. He'll back me up."

Docchi didn't doubt her but there was more to think of than the fate of one individual. "You're just guessing, aren't you? There's a chance, if you experiment wildly enough, you'll find the right compounds."

"Please," said Jeriann. "It will only be for a few weeks. Less than that if it works the way I think it will."

"What about the other deficients? They need biologicals too."

"They can wait and Maureen can't."

Reluctantly he gave consent. "Then you can have all the power you need, for the next few days anyway. After that we'll see."

"You're a dear." Jeriann walked through the lab, inspecting it critically from every angle. "Of course I'll need help. Part of the trouble is that we can't get enough power to the machine, we're not using it to the full capacity. With larger power connections we'll be able to turn out stuff we haven't touched on before."

He shook