Alexander Kazantsev. The Destruction of Faena

     Translated by Alex Miller
     RADUGA PUBLISHERS MOSCOW
     OCR: http://home.freeuk.com/russica2/ ? http://home.freeuk.com/russica2/
     Translation from the Russian
     Illustrated and designed by Mikhail Verkholantsev
     Original Russian title: ГИБЕЛЬ ФАЭНЫ
     На английском языке
     (c)Издательство "Детская литература" 1974
     English translation (c)Raduga Publishers 1989

        CONTENTS

     From the author

     Part One. Tension

     Chapter One. The Wave
     Chapter Two. Two Shores
     Chapter Three. The Masters
     Chapter Four. The Temple of Eternity
     Chapter Five. Blood
     Chapter Six. No Happiness in this World
     Chapter Seven. The Forgotten Hump

     Part Two. Explosion

     Chapter One. The Little World
     Chapter Two. The Golden Apple
     Chapter Three. Paradise Lost
     Chapter Four. At the Peak of Civilisation
     Chapter Five. Craters in the Wilderness
     Chapter Six. Judgement
     Chapter Seven. The Star of Hatred

     Part Three. Fragments

     Chapter One. Twilight
     Chapter Two. Mutiny in Space
     Chapter Three. In the Name of Reason
     Chapter Four. Spiders in Jar
     Chapter Five. The Naked Leader
     Chapter Six. The Testament of the Great Elder

     Epilogue. The Talking Beast



     From the author

     Cosmogony is no less  full of  riddles than  the history of  Earth. And
where  there  are  riddles,  there  is room for fantasy. However,  if  it is
divorced from  reality  and rejects verisimilitude and authenticity, fantasy
is empty,  it  leaves no  trace in  the  heart;  the  best it can  do is  to
titillate  the  reader's  senses.  But  I  have  always  wanted  to  achieve
"authenticity in the  incredible", to  write fantasy founded  solely on real
facts and unsolved mysteries.
     One  such riddle  that  excited  me was the  ring  of  asteroids (minor
planets) between the orbits of  Mars  and Jupiter  instead of the planet, as
predicted  by  Kepler's  law,  which had exploded  for  some unknown reason,
scattering fragments all round its orbit. How could that have happened?
     If the  planet had  exploded from within  because of certain processes,
its fragments would have flown in all directions as  from  a  high-explosive
bomb  and would have continued moving  round the sun in elongated elliptical
orbits...  But  they  are  moving  round in  their  former  almost  circular
planetary  orbit.  If the  planet had perished because  of a  collision with
another  cosmic  body,  their  common  fragments would have tended towards a
resultant,  also  acquiring  elongated  elliptical  orbits;  but  they  have
virtually stayed where they were.
     The  planet  apparently  cracked  as the  result of  a  powerful impact
received simultaneously from all directions; it then disintegrated under the
influence of the gravity of Mars and Jupiter. Its remains kept colliding and
breaking up, creating swarms of meteorites and stringing out round the whole
former orbit of the planet. But what kind of explosion was it? The explosion
of its water envelope, its oceans?
     It  so happened  that  I was able  to  put  this question to  the great
20th-century physicist. Nils Bohr when he met us Moscow writers.
     "Can  all a planet's oceans  explode if a super powerful nuclear device
is detonated in their depths?" I asked him.
     "I don't deny  such a possibility," he replied, and added, "but even if
it weren't so, nuclear weapons must be banned in any case."
     He  understood it  all  at  once! If the planet had  perished when  its
oceans exploded, then  there was  a  civilisation on it  that  had destroyed
itself because of a nuclear war.
     This  was  the stimulus for me as  a novelist  to  write my trilogy The
Faetians. Other problems found their way  into it.  Why has the missing link
between  man and the Earth's  animal world never been  discovered?  Why does
Mars seem  uninhabited, and was it always so? Why did great cataclysms occur
on Earth,  such  as  the  sinking of  Atlantis  and the  rise of the  Andes?
According to some theories, the cause was a gigantic asteroid that fell onto
Earth,  or the appearance  of the hitherto non-existent Moon in the sky over
Earth. Is this so?
     The reader will learn all about it in the novel as he follows the lives
of the characters, who witnessed unprecedented catastrophes.
     The author will be  happy if this book  helps the reader to  acquire  a
taste for the great secrets of the Universe and of Earth's history.

     Alexander Kazantsev


     Peace is the virtue of civilisation.
     War is its crime.
     Victor Hugo

        PART ONE

     Tension

     Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,Profaners of
     this neighbour-stained steel.
     Will they not hear?-
     What ho! You men, you beasts.
     That quench the fire of your pernicious rage
     With purple fountains issuing from your veins.
     On pain of torture, from those bloody hands
     Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground...

     W. Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet

     Chapter One

        THE WAVE

     Translation of an extraterrestrial message inscribed in the language of
the Faetians who  lived on Faena a million years ago.  (Books 2  and 3 of my
science-fantasy novel, The Faetians, tell of who wrote and sent this message
to Earth and who deciphered it.)

     The only daughter of the Dictator  of Powermania, an  ancient continent
of Faena, was named Yasna after her mother. Her  father,  Yar Jupi, had been
hoping for a son, but he loved his daughter beyond measure. He kept dreaming
that she would  grow up, get married and leave him. When, as was the custom,
he  needed  to give  his grown-up daughter a  final name, he could think  of
nothing better than calling her  Mada, which meant Falling-in-love. Surnames
on Faena were borrowed from the  stars and planets. For example.  Mar, Jupi,
Alt or Sirus.
     Mada  Jupi took after her  mother:  she was  called beautiful. Her face
baffled  the  artists,  being lively, always changing, now merry, now clear,
now pensive.  How  could  they  paint  her?  She typified  the  best  of the
longfaces, but the oval of her features was moderate and soft, her  nose was
straight and her lips were firmly compressed.
     This  blue-eyed Faetess (as  they were called on Faena) was met  on the
Great Shore by Ave Mar, a visitor to Powermania. The girl  was coming out of
the water, having chosen the moment when a  breaker had crashed on the shore
and was sliding back in a mass of hissing foam.
     Ave wished he had  been  a sculptor. Everything he had heard about Mada
from his  hunchbacked secretary  Kutsi Merc  was pale, inadequate  and  dull
compared with what he could see with his own eyes.
     A fat, elderly Faetess, one of the roundheads, ran into  the  water and
wrapped the girl in a soft, fluffy sheet as she emerged.
     Mada took no notice  whatever  of Ave, although from what her companion
had told her, she knew quite a lot about him. The nanny deftly put a folding
chair down on  the sand and Mada sat on it, wrapping the sheet  round her as
the ancients used to drape themselves in their robes.
     Kutsi Merc noticed the  impression that  Mada had  made on Ave,  and he
hunched his back even more as he bent down to speak.
     "Shall we show this to the local natives?"
     And with a significant smile on his clever, evil face, he held a small,
smooth board out to Ave. Sitting on  the sand and admiring Mada, Ave vaguely
replied:
     "Well, I didn't realise we'd brought that with us!"
     "The  proud and  beautiful  Mada  Jupi  is here,"  said  the  secretary
encouragingly.  Ave Mar stood  up.  Thanks to  his impressive  height, long,
strong  neck and piercing eyes, he gave  the impression of  looking over the
heads of everybody else.
     In obedience to his own impulse, as it seemed to him, he took the board
from Kutsi and walked boldly with it into the water.
     Without taking  her eyes off Kutsi, Mada's companion whispered into the
girl's ear:
     "Look, Mada! The stranger from Danjab I was telling you about has taken
a board with him."
     In spite of the breakwater, built to make swimming easier when the tide
was coming in, the waves were crashing violently onto the shore. Outside the
barrier, they were truly gigantic, rearing up their foaming crests one after
another as on the open sea.
     "Where's he  swimming to?" asked  Mada's companion in alarm. "Shouldn't
we call the lifeguards?"
     "He's a better swimmer than you think," commented Mada vaguely.
     "But why's he taken that board? It's frightening to watch."
     Even so, she couldn't take her eyes off him.
     Ave swam as  far  as the  breakwater  and climbed  over it.  He had now
attracted the attention of many swimmers.
     "Why did you decide he's that particular stranger?" asked Mada.
     "Because of his  companion.  Roundheaded, like me; a hunchback into the
bargain, yet he's as proud as if he was strolling along the beach of Danjab.
I feel ashamed for our own people. Isn't anyone going to teach that show-off
how to swim?"
     "No, I don't  want  to," said  Mada, watching as the gigantic  breakers
swept the foreign visitor up onto their crests.
     And suddenly all the holidaymakers on the beach stirred in amazement.
     The swimmer chose the moment when a particularly big wave lifted him up
on its crest, jumped  to his  feet and  waved his arms, as if wanting to fly
like  a bird. He did not take  off, however,  but simply kept his balance on
the  slippery  board.  He  stood like  that  on the foaming crest  and  with
frightening speed swept towards the shore, clad in foam and spray. It seemed
incredible that he should stay on the moving watery mountain. But the madman
not only held his position; laughing  defiantly, he  began  gliding down the
steep watery slope, then allowed the wave to throw him upon its crest again.
     The crowded beach gasped at this bold display of skill.
     "But I must  see how that's  done," said Mada determinedly, casting off
the "ancient robe" and handing it to her worried nanny.
     "What are  you doing, my  dear?" she  protested, forgetting  her recent
advice. "He'll bump you with  his board. And is it fitting for the  daughter
of Yar Jupi to swim beside him?"
     Mada ran into the sea and dived into an oncoming wave.  The dark cap of
stretch  material protecting her thick  hair from the water  bobbed amid the
foaming crests.
     Mada swam as far  as the breakwater and climbed onto it. From there she
saw  the foreign swimmer going back  to the sea  with his board for  another
ride on the breakers. She waved to him, although he could not see her.
     There was  unlikely to be as skilful a  swimmer on the  Great  Shore as
Mada. The  ocean waves bore her  up onto their crests and tried to hurl  her
back.  But she was not accustomed to giving up once she had set her heart on
something.  She decided that she absolutely must stand on that magic  board,
and no force in the world could have stopped her.
     The foreigner swimming away from the shore didn't even look round.
     Mada  only had a glimpse of the stranger, but as she swam after him she
had the  distinct impression of  an athletic  figure  in a loincloth, strong
muscles rippling under the skin, and curly hair as tousled as that of a boy.
     Suddenly, Mada  saw him. He was  standing on a foaming crest. The water
seemed to be boiling under him, and with reckless abandon  he began  gliding
down the watery slope straight at Mada.
     Ave  noticed her at the last moment  and jumped, while Mada dived under
the board.
     It seemed to her that the wave had crashed down on her, but it was just
the board grazing her slightly.
     Mada  surfaced and  looked  round. The stranger's eyes  met hers as  he
bobbed up  to the surface.  He laughed joyfully and  promptly began swimming
towards her, seizing the board on the way.
     "Hold on!" he shouted while still some distance off.
     Mada could  not make anything out, but she smiled in answer, since  she
realised that he was hurrying to her assistance. When he swam up to her, she
said:
     "I want to stand on that..." and she pointed at the board.
     "Ave Mar will be happy to help..."
     "Mada Jupi."
     "You'll learn the meaning of joy, strength and happiness!"
     The  people  standing  on the  shore watched what was happening  on the
other side  of the breakwater. A sigh coursed  along the beach  when the two
figures appeared standing  straight up on the crest of a wave, holding on to
one another  and each evidently  standing with  one  foot  on  the board. It
seemed  like a  miracle. With their arms round  each other's  waists in full
view  of the onlookers  and without falling, they were borne on the  foaming
crest towards the beach.
     Never had Mada experienced such pleasure before.
     Even  so, when Mada  and Ave crossed the  breakwater and were returning
with  the board to the crowded beach, Mada felt  uneasy. If someone had told
her the day before that she was  capable of such flightiness, she would have
burst out laughing.
     Ave held the board in one hand  and  was ready  to  help  Mada with the
other  if the  surf  swept her off her feet. But Mada went ahead of him and,
skipping  over the gurgling foam with a laugh, was the first to  run up onto
the beach.
     She seemed to be showing that, as the Dictator's daughter, she could do
whatever she liked!
     Her anxious companion wrapped her charge up in the fluffy sheet.
     "How good it was! If you only knew how good it was, Mother Lua!"
     "As if I couldn't know," she grumbled. "I nearly died, waiting for you.
If anything  happened to you, I'd surely be  executed  by order of  Yar Jupi
(may he be happy, the great man!)"
     "It's a good thing  you're alive and can help me with one or two little
matters."
     Mother Lua gave her a stern look.
     "It frightens me to think of it, my dear."
     Mother Lua had  guessed rightly about her charge's intentions. Mada had
always dreamed about a real  Faetian,  manly, noble and pure. The uncultured
Faetians among  the  Superiors, flaunting a  civilisation  that  had  become
static since ancient times,  repelled her with their  boorishness, arrogance
and contempt for  the roundheads, whose children her mother had once nursed.
The  stranger,  as  her  nanny  had  told  her,  was  alien  to  all  gloomy
superstitions of the Superiors; he  was  a scholar  of  Danjab  who was  not
afraid to break free of the Science of Death there and end up at loggerheads
with everybody. It was just such a Faetian  that Mada could dream about, and
he had, on top of all that, turned out to be athletic, daring and handsome.
     It  was innate in Faetians to be mutually attracted  "at  first sight",
which they did not always admit even to themselves.
     The daughter of Yar Jupi had  justified the name  her  father had given
her-she had fallen in love straightway  with a visitor  clad in foam and, in
Mother Lua's opinion, had lost her wits.
     "Think,  my dear! If he was a  longface, it  would have been all right.
But they're going to call this one a half-breed. Contempt and hatred!  Think
again, my dear! I taught you the truth about  all the  Faetians, but not for
that!.."
     "No," replied Mada firmly. "Let it be the way I want it. You will go to
his companion and tell him where Ave and I are going to meet."
     "You'll be noticed together! The Blood Guard will seize him. Don't wish
him harm."
     "It shall be as I have said. Others will not be able to look at us.  We
shall meet in the palace garden."
     "The garden behind the Wall?" echoed Lua in alarm.
     "You will escort them through the Blood Door."
     Mother Lua looked downcast. But Mada paid no attention to her,  walking
on with her chin up.
     The Blood Door! It was one of  the most reliable of the devices  in the
Lair, as  the Dictator's palace was called. Yar Jupi had long been racked by
persecution mania.  It seemed to him  that there were conspiracies under way
everywhere  to assassinate him.  Consequently, he had  been living for  many
cycles  without leaving the  territory of the Lair and never letting himself
be  seen outside its walls. He communicated with his subordinates only  over
closed  TV.  He  trusted  no one. Security  was  maintained at key points by
automatons  who  admitted  only  chosen  Faetians  with  identifiable  brain
biocurrents.
     Only the  Faetians closest to  the  Dictator could use the  Blood Door.
There was no other key to it and no outsider could open it.
     And now Mother Lua had to escort foreigners into the garden outside the
Wall. She knew that her charge would not change her mind. Moreover,  she did
not want to obstruct Mada in any case.
     Need it be said that  Ave, the young Faetian, had also fallen in  love?
Inclined to extremes by  nature, time and  time again he relived the moments
when,  with  their  arms  round  each other's waists,  he and  the wonderful
Faetess had  ridden the surf together. He was in  a fever, but he  could not
imagine how to see  his beloved again, since she had turned  out to  be  Yar
Jupi's daughter.
     Grunting as if carrying a  heavy load, Kutsi Merc trudged along  behind
Ave. He was not in the least surprised  to notice  that the nurse had fallen
behind her charge and was adjusting a shoelace.
     Letting Ave go ahead, the  hunchback hung back near  the roundhead, and
she, without straightening up, said almost inaudibly:
     "As soon  as  shining  Jupi rises in  the sky,  take your master to the
ruins of the old shrine in the Dread Wall."
     Kutsi Merc nodded, grinned craftily and caught up with his master.
     "Success is  the  envy of  failures. A tryst  has been  made at the old
ruins in the light of Jupi, the brightest of planets."
     Ave looked round suddenly.
     "Are you jesting?"
     "Jesting is of no avail in my profession. Kutsi  Merc is too good a ...
helper."


     By a whim of the Dictator's, the Dread  Wall round his Lair ran through
a tiny  ruined shrine dividing  it  into two halves. This screened from view
the Blood Door,  which was hardly noticeable in any  case. The  wall in  the
lower part  divided  in obedience to the brain biocurrents written  into the
program of the electronic automatons.
     Mother Lua  nervously gave  the door its  mental  instructions  and  it
opened.
     Ave and  Kutsi Merc,  who  were  standing  in  the half-ruined portico,
quickly proceeded  through  the gap, Lua followed  them and  the Wall closed
behind  her. Only the ruins on the  inner  side of the wall  showed where to
look for the vanished door.
     Ave looked  round. He was  in a  luxuriant  garden. Sinuous lianas hung
down like snakes guarding their prey. Beyond the shaggy tree-trunks lurked a
gloom  that seemed dense and clammy. Lua, the nocturnal  luminary whose name
the nurse  bore, had not yet begun to rise,  and Jupi,  the brightest of the
planets, was only just silvering the tree-tops. Under them it was as dark as
on a starless night.
     The young Faetian's heart was thudding in his breast.
     Kutsi Merc's pulse was throbbing evenly enough. He had gained access to
the Lair, into which not even a snake could crawl its way...


     Chapter Two

        TWO SHORES

     Ave  Mar first  met  Kutsi Merc, his secretary, half a cycle before the
encounter with Mada on the Great Shore.
     Ave Mar's steamcar stopped that day in a mountain pass on the continent
of the Culturals of Danjab.
     The view  took Ave's  breath  away. The ocean,  revealed from high  up,
seemed to ascend to the  very heavens. The misty band of the  horizon looked
like a ridge of lofty clouds.
     Below  lay Business  City. The skyscrapers stood in concentric circles.
They were  linked  by ring and radial streets and avenues, on both sides  of
which lay  green  parks and glittering lakes. In  the city centre towered  a
skyscraper resembling the conical axis of  the  monstrous Wheel  of Business
Life.
     Ave put his  foot down on  the  pedal to open the high-pressure  boiler
valve. The steam drive slowly moved the car  from its place, accelerating it
to the required speed.
     Steamcars  had  appeared very  recently, but  had  quickly replaced the
obsolete vehicles powered by internal  combustion engines.  In  their  time,
these machines had  poisoned the air of the cities with their exhaust gases.
The fuel  they consumed could  have  served as  chemical  raw  material  for
clothing and other goods in daily use.
     As he drove at  top  speed  along the magnificent road, Ave Mar crossed
the outer circle avenue on which stood the tower blocks of Business City.
     From a  distance, they seemed conical. In fact, they were stepped. They
were girt  by a spiral  steamcar road  which gave  access to  each storey in
succession and to the garage entrances outside every flat.
     The conical  towers  housed shops with corridors  leading to exits onto
the  spiral  road, restaurants,  cafes,  and  also theatres and  concert  or
viewing halls. There were production workshops and  business  offices in the
centre of the multistorey building.
     Moving staircases led to the garages under the living quarters.
     The ordinary Faetians, toiling in the workshops, had no cars and hardly
ever left  their cramped little rooms,  unaware of any world other than that
shut in by the skyscraper's spiral roadway.
     Ave stopped his steamcar. The  garage  doors  opened  automatically and
closed behind him when he had driven in.
     The car needed no maintenance, being permanently ready for use with the
necessary steam pressure in its boiler. The heating device of disintegration
matter was, so to speak, part of the machine and wore out with it.
     Ave Mar was in  a dejected  mood. He dropped in on one of his  friends;
but  the friend had summoned a secret meeting  and had  not invited Ave. Ave
understood what it was all about and drove off immediately.
     On the  way back he saw the pathetic hovels of the  Faetians who worked
in the  fields. He felt ashamed  of himself  for  having,  over his  garage,
several living rooms in which no one lived, in fact, except for himself.
     He had never known lack of room, but he  had known loneliness and could
only call  up his mother over  the  screen. Oh, Mother, Mother! Even at that
enormous distance, she unerringly guessed what  was  in her son's heart  and
was always the first to appear on the screen.
     Ave glumly stepped onto the upward moving staircase.
     What was the  meaning of life, if all that lay  ahead was a blind alley
from which the Faetians could not escape? It was madness to seek deliverance
in wars of annihilation. Many Faetians understood as much...
     But why did his friends not trust him? He needn't keep quiet with them.
Did he not also subscribe to the  Doctrine of Justice? But they didn't  need
him... No one needed him...
     Ave went  into the  first of  his  round  rooms  and  stopped  dead  in
amazement. A broad-shouldered,  burly hunchback came up to  meet him with  a
guarded smile on his hard face.
     "Ease  and  happiness!" said the stranger.  "I am Kutsi Merc! The Ruler
Dobr Mar gave me the key of this flat as his son's secretary."
     Ave smiled bitterly.
     "Is my father worried that his son is gnawed by misery?"
     "Your father was thinking of something more important."
     "Will it deliver me from bitterness?"
     "Would it be a bad thing to visit  the ancient continent of Powermania?
High technology in the hands of barbarians who call themselves Superiors?"
     "What's the sense of such dreams? I worked with Um Sat. I specialise in
the  disintegration of  matter, so I am  not allowed  to travel overseas. We
live in times of emptiness, disillusion, tension..."
     "As your  secretary, I shall help you in everything,  even in a trip to
the continent of the barbarians."
     So  saying, the hunchback went into the  other room.  He soon  returned
carrying  vessels with  beverages and  two cylinders of  compressed narcotic
smoke  which  the Culturals  loved  to  inhale  when  relaxing. Kutsi Merc's
clothes were stretched tight over his hump, as if tailored for someone else.
     Ave  was amazed at  the speed  with  which  his  new  acquaintance made
himself at home. The neglected flat was transformed. Mechanisms, switched on
before the occupant's arrival, had cleaned the place up.
     As he inhaled the smoke, the young Faetian studied Kutsi Merc.
     "If only  we  journey  to  Powermania," he said  reflectively,  "before
misery kills desire..."
     "Desires must  be  fulfilled.  Otherwise it is not  worth desiring. The
Faetesses over the ocean are very beautiful."
     "How can that be of any importance? Even knowledge is powerless to lead
the  Faetians  out  of  their  blind  alley. Soulless power politics,  blind
subordination to dogma! The blockheads refuse to listen  to anything that is
unfamiliar to them!.." Ave was suffering from rejection of his ideas and was
airing his sense of injury.
     "The  great law of inertia! Inertia can be overcome  by the application
of energy. The law must be interpreted more broadly."
     "Kutsi Merc  is  undoubtedly  more  than  adequately  equipped for  the
obligations of secretary."
     "One must also overcome the inertia in oneself." Kutsi Merc blew out an
intricate pattern of smoke.
     The hunchback was certainly astonishing Ave  Mar; but there were  still
more surprises to come.
     Kutsi  now  came  to see Ave Mar every day and tirelessly  told stories
about  the legendary continent of a very ancient civilisation. It turned out
that he knew Power-mania extremely well, was familiar with its history, art,
and architecture, had evidently been there a number of times, and was fluent
in the  language  of  the  barbarians,  as  he  called  the  inhabitants  of
Powermania.
     "Look and marvel. The depths of ignorance and the heights of knowledge,
an alien technology and the wild theories of the Superiors, the slums of the
roundheaded monsters and the legendary beauty, Mada Jupi."
     "The Dictator's daughter?" asked Ave, interested in spite of himself.
     "Brought  up  by a  most  cultured nurse  of  roundhead stock. Became a
Sister of Health, looks after  children in spite of her father's Doctrine of
Hatred. He loves her so much that he will tolerate any of her whims."
     "What does she look like?" asked Ave vaguely.
     Kutsi brightened up.
     "The long legs of the runner, but feminine. The lines of her body would
make a classical sculpture. A soft heart and the hauteur of pride. It's hard
to win her indulgence."
     "It looks as though Kutsi Merc has been having a try."
     With a bitter smile, the hunchback pointed to his hump.
     "Kutsi Merc bears too heavy a burden in life."
     He had now completely  relieved Ave Mar of  his daily household chores.
He went on talking about Powermania, but didn't mention Mada again.
     It was Ave Mar who  raised the subject of  a  possible journey over the
sea.
     Kutsi Merc had apparently been waiting for this.
     "The berths on the ship have been booked."


     Ave Mar stood on the deck  of the ocean-going ship and looked  into the
distance. This time, the ocean wasn't rising  to heaven, as in the view from
the  mountain  pass, but it was  as boundless and  no less  striking  to the
imagination.
     Dm Sat had confided a terrible secret  to  his pupil  about this ocean.
Every  secret  is  a burden,  and this  one, concerning the destiny  of  all
Faetians, was a particularly heavy weight on Ave's mind.
     Kutsi warily tried to  found out the cause  of  Ave's bad mood, but Ave
avoided the subject by holding forth against scientists who would not accept
his ideas about the possibility of life on other planets.
     Kutsi  grinned craftily and poked fun at the young Faetian, maintaining
that the real reason was that he hadn't yet fallen in love.
     The  barbarians' continent appeared on the horizon. Sharp arrows seemed
to be sticking up out of the water. Over the sea rose the weird buildings of
the ancient continent, on which the houses were not  round,  but rectangular
(how  absurd!}.  Incredibly crowded, they reached for the sky  and gradually
merged  into  a  pile of  irregular acute-angled pillars  that  suggested  a
cluster of crystals.
     Almost  leaping out of the water, a security launch  raced towards  the
ship.
     They were faced  with the control procedure. Kutsi Merc sought  out his
master so as to be at his side.
     Longfaced  men with hooked noses were climbing aboard. They were all in
identical  angular clothes with collars upraised at the back  and short dark
hooded capes that became rectangular bands on the chest.
     "Hey  you, hunchbacked offspring of carrion-eaters! Make way before the
Blood Guard!" snarled the first of the longfaces as he drew level with Kutsi
Merc. "You'll have to get out of here and go back to your stinking island."
     Ave Mar, who had specially learned the language of  Powermania, flushed
with  rage  but, on catching  Kutsi's sidelong  glance  of warning, he  kept
quiet.
     But Kutsi Merc arched  his  hump as he bowed, meekly  lowering his head
and using a manner of speech not his own, but typical of the local dialect.
     "Perhaps the officer of the Blood Guard will be interested to know that
the insignificant  roundhead  whom he sees  before him  is only secretary to
this  distinguished traveller, the  clear-thinking Ave Mar, son of the Ruler
of Danjab."
     The longface, who was  wearing a beard  in imitation  of  Dictator  Yar
Jupi, glanced contemptuously at Kutsi.
     Ave Mar offered him his tokens.
     "The athletic  son  of Ruler Dobr Mar is  recognisable even without his
tokens," said  the officer, showing off his familiarity  with the old manner
of speech.  "As for  this contemptible  roundheaded  cripple,  he should  be
attached as if by a chain to his master while serving him, as is preordained
by nature." And the officer made for the other passengers.
     Kutsi Merc ran after  him, humbly begging the return of the tokens. The
officer threw them down; they  landed on the  deck  with a jingle and nearly
rolled overboard. Kutsi Merc bent  over to snatch them up and even went down
on his knees.
     The officer laughed coarsely.
     "That's  how  to welcome the land of  Superiors-in  the posture of  the
lizard from which you are not so distantly descended."
     "May happy days last for a long time here," replied Kutsi Merc humbly.

     The ocean-going ship sailed  into a harbour which was surrounded on all
sides by  enormous,  weirdly rectangular  buildings.  Among  them,  Ave  Mar
immediately  recognised  several  famous  temples which  had been  built  in
ancient  times  and  had towered  high over all the other buildings of  that
period. The city had risen since then and had blotted them from view.
     So this was what it was like. Pleasure City!
     Some  of the gigantic  blocks  were linked  by fantastical multi-tiered
street-bridges crossing at various levels.
     Ave thought  that  he was looking  at  a  forest  mound, which  in  his
homeland was built by little insects with many feet.
     This impression of the maritime city of  the Superiors was strengthened
even further when he and  Kutsi Merc were on dry land. They were pushed  and
jostled by crowds of hurrying Faetians. In addition to the steam-cars, there
were vehicles powered by  obsolete  internal  combustion  engines. Making an
appalling din  and poisoning the air, this medley  of heterogeneous vehicles
surged past  the  half-asphyxiated  Ave or thundered overhead on  the  crazy
bridges  between the massive artificial  canyons of the  buildings. Squeezed
into  a corner  of the tiny lift-cage by other  Faetians, Ave and Kutsi were
taken up  to the tiny  room set aside for them  in  the expensive Palace  of
Visitors.
     While Kutsi Merc unpacked, Ave stood  at  the lancet window and  looked
out on an alien world. He  could not see  any of  the old-time  romance  for
which  he  had  yearned  since childhood.  Everything here was  an  eyesore,
beginning with the  uniform of the coarse Blood Guards  and ending with  the
awkward angles of the cramped little room.
     "Don't torture your  eyes  with barbarian buildings,"  said Kutsi Merc.
"We'll be on the Great Shore tomorrow."
     A roundhead servant of  low stature appeared and asked whether the  new
arrivals would prefer vegetable or animal food with  blood  for dinner,  and
whether  they  wanted,  like all  travellers,  to  look  round  the  densely
populated quarters of  the  city,  and whether they had any other orders for
him.
     Kutsi  Merc  considered  it  necessary   to   display  the  traditional
curiosity,  so he and  Ave  did  not  allow themselves time for a  rest, but
trailed off into the famous roundhead quarters.
     Although  he  knew the slums  of his  native continent,  Ave had  never
imagined that Faetians could live in such filthy and overcrowded conditions.
It was only  possible to  breathe on  a street  when  it became a suspension
bridge. But where the street was hemmed in by buildings and ran between them
like a  tunnel, it became, as it were, part  of the living quarters. Not shy
of passers-by,  the  Faetians kept  their  doors  open,  got  on with  their
household chores, sat at the table with children born  before the roundheads
were banned from  having children, ate their simple  but acrid-smelling food
and went  to bed. The Faetesses poked their heads out of the open doors and,
shouting loudly,  conversed  with  the inhabitants on  the  second  or third
stories up. Here and there, only just above the heads of the passers-by, the
inmates' washing had been hung out to dry; most of them did not know whether
they would have to sweat at work on the next day as well.
     Ave very much  wanted to hold  his nose when, accompanied  by Kutsi, he
fled  from those evil-smelling  quarters, famed for their  openly  exhibited
poverty. The Power of Justice  had only existed for a hundred and three days
and it had not been able to help the residents...
     "So  what's the  answer to this?" wondered  Ave. "Is  it really in  the
monstrous  law  of  a Dictator  who  has forbidden  these families  to  have
children?"
     Was  it really to see all this that  he had dreamed of coming here from
across the ocean ever since childhood?
     But next day he saw the Great Shore and Mada.


     Chapter Three

        THE MASTERS

     Dictator Yar Jupi's palace was part of the Temple of Eternity, in which
worship had ceased after the Faetians  forgot their religion. Now the  Dread
Wall  separated  the  temple  from the  monastery  buildings  that had  been
converted for the Dictator's use. The soaring spire of black stone resembled
a  torpedo  with  a disintegration warhead.  The  ancient  architects  never
suspected that they were  anticipating the outlines of a future weapon. Even
less  could they have imagined that, in the event of  a disintegration  war,
the  cellars under  the  Temple  of Eternity would house the Central Control
Panel  of Defence  Automatons.  The machines could  unleash a  death-dealing
swarm of disintegration torpedoes against Danjab.
     A  session of  Peaceful Space  was now  being held  over these fearsome
machines in the  former shrine of the temple with its black columns  soaring
up into  the  sky.  Its chairman was Dm  Sat of Danjab, who  had in his time
discovered the disintegration of  matter  (By the  disintegration of matter,
the  Faetians meant  the  nuclear reactions  of fissionand  synthesis, as  a
result of which,  as is known,  a  deficiency of  mass is observed; that is,
matter diminishes; it disintegrates, releasing an enormous amount of energy)
and had  made  a  terrible  mistake  by  publishing  his  discovery  on both
continents simultaneously.  The great roundhead, as he was  called,  and the
planet's  first authority  on  matter,  had decided that he was  as great an
authority  on  life.  Believing  that  the  simultaneous   appearance  of  a
superpowerful weapon on both continents would create a "balance of fear", he
hoped  that  war  would  become impossible.  However,  the  tension  of  the
relations between the continents was growing. Urn Sat had only hit on one of
the causes: overpopulation and  hostility because of  the lack  of room. But
the  hostility  over  profits  was  far more  dangerous. Overpopulation  was
aggravating all  aspects of  the  struggle even further. The  proprietors on
both  continents, while suppressing dissatisfaction of the toilers by force,
were also threatening one another with force across the ocean. It seemed  to
them that they could,  at the expense of  their  competitors, not only boost
profits, but could pacify the malcontents  in their own country with a small
handout.
     The horrified  Um Sat  was  beginning to realise the inevitability of a
disintegration war and he considered himself responsible for it. That is why
he was now  trying to find a  solution for everything in the  exploration of
new space continents, dreaming about the partial resettlement of Faetians on
them and about universal reconciliation.
     Heavy responsibility, disillusion, care and fatigue had left their mark
on  the old Faetian's face. His high forehead under the dense shock  of hair
was furrowed by deep lines. The big, sad eyes were full of kindly wisdom and
understanding. But with it all went a weak chin covered by a greying beard.
     In spite of the Sat's tragic mistake, he  was  still respected for  his
tremendous  achievements in science and  for his unquestionable integrity of
purpose. Consequently, the sages of learning from both continents met him in
the hall with the greatest respect.
     But  at  that moment, within only a hundred  paces  of  the  Temple  of
Eternity, behind  the  wall  of  the  Lair, there was  another  world-famous
Faetian whom no one respected but all feared.


     Yar  Jupi  became Dictator  during  the  black  days when the  Power of
Justice was suppressed.
     Before his daughter was born, he was merely an  inconspicuous tradesman
who did business with the roundheads. To please his clients, he  took Mother
Lua  into service for Mada, who had lost her mother.  The nurse replaced the
child's real  mother at the  memorable time  when the fury of the  oppressed
burst  into   the  open.   The  uprising  shook  Powermania,  depriving  the
proprietors of power and possessions.
     Lying low in their burning hatred, they refused to reconcile themselves
to defeat. They  had the brutal  experience of struggle amongst  themselves.
They had  always fought to the death with the toilers and with one  another.
However, they were now ready to forget their own quarrels.
     There  were  proprietors  on  both  sides  of the ocean. But  since the
discovery and  settlement of the new continent of Danjab, the  Faetians  had
lived there without the ancient prejudices; there wasn't even any favourable
soil  on  which they  could flourish. The  result was  that, under  the  new
circumstances, both roundheads and longheads began enjoying equal rights and
opportunities to make others work for them. Be that as it may, it led to the
rapid growth of, if  not  a culture, at least a  technology. The products of
the  Gutturals, as its  inhabitants  began to style  themselves,  invariably
proved better  and  cheaper than those of  Powermania's  barbarians. And the
proprietors of  Danjab inundated the old continent  with their products.  In
Powermania,  crude and primitive means of manufacture still  prevailed.  The
proprietors of  that  continent found themselves under  threat  of ruin.  No
matter how much they oppressed their toilers,  the profits were slipping out
of their hands. They came to seethe with hatred for everything from  Danjab.
Only  a  defeat  in  the  struggle  with  the Justice  Movement  temporarily
relegated a reckoning with the overseas proprietors to the background.
     When  Yar  Jupi  proclaimed his  Doctrine of Hatred,  he had only heard
about the Council of Blood, not suspecting who the members  might  be. Once,
when summoned to a secret meeting  of the council in a cellar, he was shaken
to recognise,  under the  cowls  of  those present,  two  important workshop
proprietors and one big land proprietor.
     "Our choice has fallen on you, Yar Jupi," declared the land proprietor.
"Your Doctrine of Hatred could unite, for  nothing unites better than common
hatred. With its help, the Movement of Blood should suppress the Movement of
Justice. But do  not forget  that purity of blood,"  he added significantly,
"though  regarded  as  the  supreme  ideal,  is  still  only  a  weapon  for
suppressing the power of the riff-raff."
     "The Movement of  Blood  will justify its name," affirmed Yar Jupi, who
already considered himself as one of its leaders.
     The proprietors exchanged glances.
     "We shall deal with the roundheads both  here  and  overseas," said the
future Dictator with inspiration.
     "You  traded  with the roundheads,  your wife  nursed  their children,"
began a workshop proprietor insinuatingly, and he threw back his cowl. "That
is advantageous to us, because, however loudly you may  shout  about hatred,
the  overseas  proprietors can still trust you  most of all for  having been
able to get on with the  roundheads. You will go overseas and  convince them
that  what has happened here  will happen  to them too. Let  them help us to
deal with the power of the 'seekers after justice', having thereby preserved
their own possessions. Let them send good weapons to the contingents of your
cutthroats.  You  will know  how  to  use it.  Both  now ... and  later. You
understand?" And the  workshop proprietor  pulled the hood with its eyeslits
down over his face.
     Yar Jupi  understood everything perfectly.  Shrewd and cunning, he made
his Doctrine of Hatred the main weapon against the Power of Justice. He even
did not hesitate to publicise his maniacal plan for the seizure of the whole
planet  by  the longfaces. The overseas proprietors  turned  a blind  eye to
this. It was most important of all for them to help the leader  to deal with
the hated power of the  toilers, and  if he also spouted empty phrases about
conquests, then let him amuse  himself, but  he would at least be  doing his
job.
     The   ex-tradesman  not  only  fooled  the  overseas  proprietors,   he
surrounded himself with bands of cutthroats lusting for booty. He distracted
the unstable elements from the defence of their own interests by encouraging
them to  persecute the roundheads. In a  word,  he  did  everything that was
required.
     The Power of  Justice was smashed.  Its leaders  from among the toilers
and also  many roundfaced  Faetians were exterminated. The continent swam in
blood. Yar Jupi was carried to the top on a crest of bloody foam.
     The Council of Blood  made the subtle and  obliging shopkeeper Dictator
of Power-mania, counting on his  subservience. No one, apart from  him, knew
who was a member of the Council of Blood and whose interests it defended.
     After dealing with the toilers' revolt, the new Dictator proclaimed all
roundheads (mostly toilers) to be inferior citizens. In the name of struggle
with overpopulation on the planet, he forbade them to have children. Newborn
infants  and their parents  were threatened with the  death penalty. But the
roundheads had  to  labour twice as  hard as the  rest.  The use of overseas
products  was  declared  incompatible  with the  principles  of  blood.  The
proprietors of Powermania sighed with relief: their profits were safe.
     The overseas proprietors came  to their senses  too  late. Yar Jupi not
only deprived them of profits on the old continent, but threatened them with
a  war of disintegration, of  total annihilation. They had no option  but to
prepare  for such  a  war in  defence,  above  all, of  their own  power and
profits.
     The  military leaders  of both sides,  fearing  a  disintegration  war,
intended to deliver the strike first. To  ensure that it would  also be  the
last, they demanded the build-up of disintegration weapons.  The proprietors
of  both continents,  equally  demented  and  camouflaging their  intentions
behind phrases about a  love of  peace, compelled their workshops to produce
even more frenziedly.
     The naive hopes of  Um Sat, the great Elder of learning, for a peaceful
"balance of  fear" came down with a  crash and he now began voicing a demand
for  the total  elimination of all reserves of disintegration weapons and  a
ban on their use. Many sober minds supported him.
     In  the tense pre-war atmosphere, Yar  Jupi found himself  hearing more
and  more  often the  name of Um Sat, who had discovered the  secret  of the
disintegration  of  matter  and was now appealing  to the conscience of  the
Faetians so that it could be "covered up again".
     The Dictator  received reports  of  dangerous  conversations:  "If  the
roundheads could give the planet a Faetian like Um Sat, then how can they be
declared  inferior? Why  do the roundheads have  to  work  twice as hard  as
others,  but throughout the life  of  one  generation  they must yield their
place on Faena to the longfaces?"
     Yar Jupi sensed a threat in these "brazen" questions!
     Fearing another  Uprising  of  Justice, the Dictator lost  his peace of
mind. He fell prey  to persecution mania. He no longer left the Lair,  where
he  led an ostentatiously  ascetic  life. He was equally  mistrustful of the
roundheads  and the longfaces, and even of the proprietors of the Council of
Blood, whom he served and to whom he could become useless.
     To appease the  people,  who were boiling  with rage, he stepped up his
preparations for a disintegration  war, promising that the ban on roundheads
having children would be lifted  after the successful end of the war and the
resettlement of the victors on the overseas continent.
     Alongside  this,  he  muffled   the  discontent  of  the  toilers  with
adventurist  plans  for the transfer  of the roundheads  to the planet  Mar,
where they would be free of all prohibitions  (as if it was simply  a matter
of resettlement!).
     He therefore encouraged the conquest of space and promoted the creation
of Space  Station  Deimo  near Mar. The Culturals already  had  a base there
named Phobo. Yar Jupi even agreed to  declare Outer Space "peaceful",  since
the interests of the proprietors clashed mainly on Faena.
     However, the great learned Elder Um Sat, who  had solved  the mysteries
of matter, could  not fathom  the  depths of unscrupulous politics. For him,
the "problem of  overpopulating the planet"  really  blotted  out everything
else, although, in fact, it merely aggravated the burdens of the toilers and
their  struggle with the proprietors,  not to mention  the hostility of  the
proprietors amongst themselves. Evidently, in order to be  a true  Elder, it
was still inadequate to be learned in one specific branch of knowledge.
     No one  had expected to see  the cautious and calculating Yar Jupi at a
session of Peaceful Space. He was too afraid of assassination. Obviously, it
was not for  nothing that  Yar Jupi had chosen a place for  the session near
the Lair. The  Temple of  Eternity communicated with the former monastery by
an underground passage.
     During the session, Yar Jupi suddenly appeared out of the wall with two
impressive robot bodyguards.
     He  was  a tall, well-built Faetian with  a long, clean-shaven face,  a
small  dark beard, a  hooked  nose,  a  narrow, harsh mouth  and suspicious,
restless eyes that looked out from  under the zigzags of irregular eyebrows.
His  egg-shaped  skull,  clean shaven  on purpose,  was  considered to be of
impeccable  form among  the Superiors.  There was  something  bird-like  and
predatory in the expression on his face.
     Yar Jupi addressed  those  present with  a pompous speech  in which  he
spoke about the innate  striving of the Superiors  for  peace and about  his
agreement with the project for resettling Faetians on other planets to avoid
war on Faena.
     He had  brought as a gift  to  Peaceful Space  an interplanetary  ship.
Quest, ready for immediate lift-off together  with an  experienced astronaut
commander; he offered Um Sat the opportunity to lead the expedition to Terr.
     Then he announced the Council of Blood's decision to consider Um Sat an
"honorary longface" with rights of the  Superior amongst the  Superiors. The
basis  for  this  was  research  by  the  "historians"  of  Blood,  who  had
established that the name Sat in honour of the planet, marked  with a  noble
ring, was only given to the purest longfaces.
     Um  Sat was flabbergasted.  The expedition to  Terr  was a reality.  On
Danjab  they had  merely  been  arguing  over  how much  to allocate for  an
interplanetary ship for  Terr, whereas he could now lead such an expedition.
But  ...  that  falsification  by  the  "historians"!  The  Dictator had not
disdained to use it  so as  to take Um Sat from the roundheads.  The learned
Elder's first impulse was to turn down the Dictator's gifts; anyone  else in
his  place would have acted likewise, but he refrained. After all, he  stood
for reconciliation,  for the  settlement of Faetians  in space. How could he
say  no  to  the Faetians and refuse to survey the planet Terr,  which could
become their new home? Had he the right to display personal or racial vanity
to the detriment of all Faetian society? Would it  not be more reasonable to
demonstrate the feasibility of space resettlement and divert the interest of
the workshop  proprietors to  building spaceships  instead of  manufacturing
torpedoes for a disintegration war?
     In his answering speech,  Um Sat controlled  himself and expressed  his
gratitude to Yar Jupi both for  the interplanetary ship being handed over to
Peaceful Space and for the high rank bestowed on him, Um Sat. He promised to
think about the possibility of personally taking part in the expedition.
     He  despised  himself,  but  considered that  he  was  making  a  great
sacrifice.
     The Dictator grinned and vanished through the gap in the  wall with his
robot bodyguards. Overseas technology never failed.
     Dm  Sat  announced  an  intermission in the work of the Peaceful  Space
session. He needed to pull himself  together and justify himself to himself.
Of  course,  he  was  still  the  same  roundhead-true,  inwardly  confused,
devastated and now the owner of rights he did not need at all.
     But these rights  proved particularly necessary to his former pupil and
favourite, Ave Mar.


     Dobr Mar,  Ave's  father, the Ruler of Danjab,  felt ill at ease in the
round    office    with    the     vaulted     ceiling.    He     was    the
nine-hundred-and-sixty-second ruler who had moved in there.
     An angular chin  and a bony  jaw on the intelligent face  spoke of will
and energy; the fine mouth, turned down at the corners, testified to  worry;
the bags under the eyes and  the balding head with its  remnants  of greying
hair, to a hard  life.  He had  been given  the  name  Dobr  (Kind)  for his
coming-of-age. Until then he had borne his father's name. Terrible Mar, with
the  addition  The  Second Junior.  The Ruler was thinking of his son on the
barbarians' continent, where an explosion could occur at any time...
     In spite of himself, there arose in his mind's eye, in all its details,
that accursed day half a  cycle ago, when he had decided on an act for which
he could now find neither justification nor forgiveness.
     The robot  secretary reported that Kutsi Merc  was in the waiting-room.
Since the time when Dobr Mar's predecessor had been shot in that very office
by  his  own  secretary,  the  Grand  Circle  had  decreed that  only  robot
secretaries should work in the Ruler's Palace. And now the "intelligent box"
had shown Kutsi Merc on the screen. While  waiting to be received, Kutsi had
not noticed that he was being watched, but he was naturally alert. A typical
roundhead,  he had  a face like  the disc of Lua, Faena's eternal satellite.
His narrow eyes were looking sideways at the door.
     Relations were complex between Dobr Mar and Kutsi Merc. Only Kutsi knew
how the Ruler had come to power. Dobr Mar had formerly been a "friend of the
Ruler",  and  by law had to occupy the  "first chair"  in  the  event of his
death.
     No one abused the "mentally  unstable" assassin  more than Dobr Mar. He
swore  to pursue  the same  foreign policy  as  the late  Ruler: the eternal
hostility with Powermania was to be tempered and everything  possible should
be done to  reconcile  the planet's two continents  and deliver the Faetians
from the horrors of war.
     Not long before the assassination of Dobr Mar's predecessor, Kutsi Merc
had handed  him the terrible conditions  on  which he could become Ruler: he
must be the first to start a disintegration war.
     Once he had taken  his predecessor's place, Dobr Mar was in no hurry to
pursue the lunatic policy of the  "mortally unstable" who  demanded that the
war be won with disintegration weapons.
     Dobr Mar ruled Danjab,  finding  work and living accommodation  for the
ominously growing population. He  tried  to reduce the tension in  relations
between the continents,  put  through a  law  making  old  goods subject  to
destruction so that new  ones  would be  acquired and managed things so that
Yar  Jupi, satisfied by the cut in the  import  of  overseas goods, was even
forced to agree to joint actions in space.
     ...Dobr Mar had  guessed why Kutsi Merc had come and  what he was going
to say. After all, the Ruler had not  yet met the "special  conditions". And
on the eve of the elections,  Dobr Mar was afraid of possible denunciations.
What if he struck the first blow?
     When he went into the office, Kutsi Merc halted. Squat, but  well-built
and  broad-shouldered,  almost  without a  neck, he  looked  like a wrestler
before a match.
     The match took place. Dobr Mar went trustingly towards him.
     "The councillors  of the Grand Circle are  troubled by the  information
obtained by Kutsi Merc  to the effect that the barbarians have mastered  and
even improved on the automatic machines they originally obtained from us, so
that they have become dangerous."
     "The  Ruler is right. The  automatic  machines are dangerous. I  have a
reliable agent in the Lair."
     "What guarantee is there that  the automatic machines won't function by
accident?"
     "They're almost the same on Danjab."
     "That's not enough!  The barbarians must not be allowed  to  keep them.
Such is the decision of the Grand Circle."
     "I bow  before  the  will of the first proprietors. But  the  barbarian
automatic machines  are  under the Lair. Even a snake couldn't  get  through
there."
     "A  snake  couldn't, but Kutsi Merc could.  Besides,  he has a reliable
agent there."
     Kutsi  Merc  understood  everything.  Dobr  Mar  needed  to   show  the
proprietors that he was carrying out their conditions, and at  the same time
he could get rid of Kutsi Merc by sending him on an impossible assignment.
     After  his inevitable failure, Kutsi  Merc could no longer prevent Dobr
Mar from being re-elected.
     Not a line moved on Kutsi Merc's face.
     "It  is  clear," he said  respectfully.  "Penetrate into  the Lair  and
destroy it and its automatic machines  by using a disintegration charge." He
thought  for a moment and added almost casually, "A  reliable cover  will be
needed."
     "Fine,"  agreed  the Ruler,  walking  round the  horse-shoe  table  and
settling himself  in the  comfortable armchair. Many of his predecessors had
used  that chair  and he intended to keep his place in it for a long time to
come.
     "The cover would be Ave Mar."
     "Ave Mar? My son?" Dobr Mar rose abruptly to his feet.
     He turned away to hide  his wrath. This experienced spy was  playing an
unworthy game with him,  hoping  that the father  would not risk  his  son's
life.
     Before Dobr Mar  had thrice  put up his candidature  for Ruler and  had
been defeated for refusing to become the "Ruler's  friend", he  had been the
owner of vast fertile fields.  His son Ave had  been born  in  those fields,
close to nature. He had been given his  name  Ave (Welcome) when  he reached
maturity.  As a little boy,  he had  run around with half-naked  children of
roundheads working in his father's fields.
     He had not only gone fishing with them to help them  fill their bellies
at least  once in  a while, he had climbed trees for the nutrient buds, but,
like all generations of children, he had played at war.
     Dobr Mar was proud of his son, although the boy had inherited his curly
hair from his roundhead grandmother and his girlish curved eyelashes and his
clear gaze from  his  mother. The  father didn't  particularly  like his son
looking at the world too ecstatically, naively believing in  justice and the
ancient  laws  of  honour.  Life  had  punished  him  many  times  for  this
old-fashionedness. But  the father was flattered that his son worshipped him
for his  efficiency and  love  of peace. However, the son sometimes  behaved
rashly. On leaving his teacher  Um Sat, "not wishing to serve the science of
death", he  openly spoke up against the fact that the decisive  role on both
continents  was  being  played  by the  proprietors  of the  fields and  big
workshops who had profited from the  over-populated lands and the  labour of
those working for the proprietors. Fortunately for him, as his  father  knew
from the secret reports, he never managed to  attach himself to the "current
under the ice"  of  young people threatening to  break through even here, on
Danjab,  in  a  new  Uprising of Justice.  Ave himself often heard seditious
remarks by  disciples of  the Doctrine of Justice, but he didn't consider it
necessary to  report them to his father. Ave knew about the secret meetings,
the participants in which as in token of greeting used  to touch their right
eyebrow  with their left hand. But he was not  admitted to these assemblies.
The toilers apparently did  not trust him because he was the Ruler's son. It
never entered  his father's head that Ave  Mar's friends could safeguard him
as a  capable  scientist. After leaving Um Sat,  Ave devoted himself  to the
problem of a possible life  for the Faetians on other planets. Dobr Mar knew
but  did  not  really  understand  his  arguments  that the  authorities  on
astronomy were wrong in affirming that  life was  impossible anywhere except
on Faena, since  the other planets were  either too far away from their star
or, like Merc, Ven and Terr, had been incinerated  by its rays. The Faetians
had nowhere to go if they fled  from their own planet, if you discounted the
grim planet  Mar,  which was hardly capable of  supporting life and had been
earmarked by the  Dictator of the  barbarians' continent as a place of exile
for roundheads. It  turned out that the only means of purging the planet for
future generations might  be war and war alone. Ave, however, affirmed  that
the  temperatures there were  not as  high  as  might be  expected  from its
proximity  to Sol,  its  star.  What was decisive  was  the  carbon  dioxide
content,  which  created the greenhouse effect,  preventing  the excess heat
radiation into  space. This effect made it  possible for life to  develop on
Faena. On its horizon, the star  rose solely  as the brightest star, whereas
on Terr it must have been a blinding disc to look at. Ave held that if there
was  less carbon dioxide than on Faena, there would be no greenhouse effect,
the superfluous heat could be dissipated and any life forms could develop on
its surface.
     Ave's  views  were  rejected  by  the  experts  as  absurd.  He  became
disillusioned  in the Elders of  learning, in the  teachings and in himself,
lost heart and began to pine away.
     His father merely shrugged his shoulders. He would have preferred a son
more adapted to life, although he loved and pitied him.
     And now Kutsi Merc was demanding a sacrifice...  To carry out the task,
Dobr Mar must risk his son's life.
     Kutsi  Merc was certainly calculating  that the  Ruler would back down,
but he was mistaken. The Ruler, too, was cornered.
     ...As  he remembered all this,  Dobr  Mar,  "defender of the right  and
culture", did  not know what to do. He  did not know  how  the operation  on
Powermania was going to turn out. Would the crazy mission succeed? Would the
dangerous Kutsi Merc be eliminated, and would Ave survive?

     Chapter Four

        THE TEMPLE OF ETERNITY

     Every evening, when bright  Jupi  began shining  over  the  Dread Wall,
Mother Lua conducted the alien Ave to her charge.
     She kept watch for  them with the hunchback, who always accompanied his
master. The  nurse  and the secretary  did not  get  on very well  with  one
another. The hunchback was trying to get Mother  Lua to  take him somewhere,
but she was frightened.
     One evening, Ave came into the garden looking downcast.
     "What's the matter?" asked Mada in alarm.
     Ave Mar confessed that he had to leave the Great Shore on the following
day. The travellers were not allowed to stay any longer near the  Dictator's
palace. Kutsi had spotted that they were being trailed.
     The  young Faetians,  as  at their  first tryst,  were  standing in the
shadow of  the trees. Mada  rested  her  head on Ave's  breast  and wept. He
stroked her hair,  not knowing  what  to say. It was obvious that they loved
one another and could not bear to be apart.
     Mada held her head back  and looked up  at Ave. His  curly hair blotted
out the stars.
     "Everything'll sort  itself out,"  he said  reassuringly. "We  must use
certain of your  father's  oddities-his attachment to  the old  customs, for
instance. He  refers  in  his  teaching  to  the  former monarchs;  he  even
remembers that  intermarriage between the children of hostile kings  used to
stave off war. I'm  going to my father. I shall ask him to approach Yar Jupi
with an offer of alliance between us."
     Mada shook her head.
     "What? Get married now?" Ave had read her mind.
     "Yes. Before you leave."
     Mada said this firmly, almost imperiously.
     "You  mean  tonight?"  asked Ave,  perplexed.  "But  who's  capable  of
marrying two polar opposites of hostility?"
     Mada  laughed, although  her face was  still wet with tears. Ave had an
odd way of putting things in a foreign language.
     "You  just don't know the ways of  the  Superiors. It's the  roundheads
that need permission from the authorities to  get married.  But we longfaces
are free. Any of the  Superiors whose age  exceeds the combined ages  of the
lovers can pronounce them man and wife."
     "But  where are we going  to find such an elder? Ave is only a guest of
the Superiors."
     "What does 'guest' mean? Are you helpless to find an answer?"
     Ave flared up.
     "I  was a pupil of  Dm Sat himself, the first Elder of learning  on the
planet. He is old enough and he lives here."
     "But he's a roundhead," said Mada disappointedly.
     "Urn  Sat  has  only   just  been  proclaimed  'honorary  longface'  in
Powermania. He is equal to the Superiors amongst the Superiors."
     Mada  pushed Ave away from her,  but  clasped  his hands in hers as she
looked adoringly up at him.
     "Hurry to him! You're  a  true Faetian  and you'll be able  to convince
him."


     Bowing low, the hunchback  Kutsi Merc conducted the young Faetian  into
Dm Sat's cell.
     "Ave  Mar?  You  have  returned  to  your  teacher?"  said  the  Elder,
half-rising from his chair to greet them.
     "Yes, I have-at a most difficult moment in my life."
     "You speak as though it were a matter of life or death."
     "No!"  Ave  vigorously   shook  his  head.  "Much  more.  A  matter  of
happiness!"
     The Elder looked intently at his pupil's face.
     "So that's it! But how can I help?"
     "By  using the rights bestowed on  him by the Council of Blood, Dm Sat,
by the law of the Superiors, has the right to join together for all time Ave
Mar and she whom he loves more than life."
     "The  clear-thinking Ave Mar has chosen none other than the daughter of
Dictator  Yar  Jupi,  the  beautiful  Mada,  in  spite  of  the  obstacles,"
interposed Kutsi Merc in the flowery language of Powermania.
     "What? Roundhead Sat is to  use  the rights of the oppressors?" The old
man was outraged.
     "It is  not just a  matter of love,"  interposed Kutsi Merc again. "The
marriage of the son and  daughter of the rulers of two  continents will help
to avert a war... That is what Yar Jupi says in his teaching."
     The  cunning  Kutsi  knew  how to  convince  Um Sat.  The Elder  became
thoughtful.
     "He  talks sensibly. Though burning with shame,  I did not  reject  the
gift of the barbarians solely because I was thinking of how to avoid war."
     "Then use your rights and help us to be happy!" responded Ave.
     "What must I do?" asked the Elder.
     "The ceremony  is quite simple. Mada's nurse and Kutsi Merc will be the
witnesses."
     "Is that enough?" The Elder was amazed.
     "Yes, for the age  of Um  Sat exceeds the combined ages of the  lovers,
and he has the right to join them in wedlock."
     "So the man who created the doctrine of matter, the man who refuted the
religions of the past," said the  Elder with a smile,  "will have to perform
almost the function of an unworthy priest..."
     "And, what is more, in the shrine of a former temple," interposed Kutsi
Merc.
     "Then  let the marriage truly serve peace and  remain a secret for  the
time being," decided the scientist. "The wedding  will be announced when Ave
returns to Danjab. May it help the father to come to terms with Yar Jupi, if
the Dictator is really in the traditions of the ancient monarchs."
     "So be it!" announced the hunchback.
     "I  will  persuade my  father. He's a politician and  won't miss such a
chance,"  said Ave warmly in support. "However, the ceremony absolutely must
take place tonight."
     "Why the hurry?" said Um Sat with a frown.
     "Alas, travellers, even distinguished  ones, cannot stay for  long near
the Dictator's palace. Besides ... it was Mada's request."
     "There is  no Faetess  more  beautiful  and intelligent! She  thinks of
everything," commented Kutsi Merc.
     "Well, then..." Um Sat shrugged his  shoulders. "The shrine  is  empty.
And old men don't need such a lot of sleep."
     Ave silently embraced his teacher. Um Sat gazed sadly at him for a long
time.


     The Blood Door opened once again. Mother Lua, as usual, was waiting for
Ave and  Kutsi in the  half-ruined portico. The three of  them went into the
ancient  monastery garden,  lit now by the faint light of Lua.  The dangling
lianas  didn't look like snakes any more, they suggested the cords of costly
curtains screening off the garden. The trees resembled colonnaded galleries.
     There was a  fragrance  of  rotting  leaves  and something strange  and
gentle-perhaps the flowers that Yar Jupi used to grow with such passion.
     Mada  was waiting for her beloved and rushed to meet him as soon  as he
walked through the Blood Door.
     "Has he agreed?"
     "Urn Sat  has so far created  reactions of disintegration, but now (may
Kutsi Merc be forgiven for this!)  he will have to accomplish the opposite,"
joked the hunchback,  and  he grinned,  but quickly changed the grin into an
ingratiating smile.
     It had grown dark in the garden. The silver light  had faded. Lightning
began flashing beyond the  outer wall, casting dense black  shadows onto the
shrubbery. One of the trees seemed to leap out of the darkness and blaze up,
its white bark shining.
     A  bellowing noise came  from somewhere  far  away.  It was  as  if  an
enormous,  lumbering machine had gone out of control and had finally plunged
down into an abyss, deafening and blinding all like a disintegration blast.
     Mada huddled closer to Ave.
     It  was now totally  dark; the avenue colonnades and the tree  with the
white bark had disappeared.
     "What a thunderstorm!" whispered Mada ecstatically.
     "We'll be  soaked as we  go  round the Dread  Wall  to  the  Temple  of
Eternity," observed the hunchback.
     "Should we put it off till tomorrow, perhaps?" asked Ave cautiously.
     "Never!" exclaimed Mada. "Are we going  to be stopped by the thunder of
heaven?  As for  the rain wetting  our  clothes, my  nanny can  take care of
them."
     "Of our clothes?"  inquired Kutsi  Merc. He  held out his hand and felt
the first  raindrops fall on to his  palm. "Yes, she'll have to take care of
them."
     "I can do without that  care,"  grumbled Mother Lua. "I'd do  better to
take you there under cover."
     "What d'you mean?" asked Kutsi Merc, suddenly on the alert.
     "It's  all quite simple," explained Mada. "An old  underground  passage
leads from here to the Temple of Eternity. The priests used it once, but now
we're going to walk along it. Nanny knows everything and will open the doors
as we come to them."
     "Does the passage run from the garden?" inquired Kutsi.
     "Yes, we can go into it not far from here. Nanny will show us."
     The rain began, a downpour from the start. They all ran, stumbling over
the tree roots. Lua went  in  front, with  Kutsi,  Mada and Ave following on
behind.
     "This way! It's no darker here than outside. The old passage isn't much
to look at. I'm sorry to say," said Mother Lua as she led them further.
     "Still, it's better than in the rain," responded Kutsi.
     Ave  could  smell  the damp. When he  touched the wall,  it was wet and
sticky. With the other hand he tightly squeezed Mada's fingers.
     "Wait," came Lua's voice from in front. "I must make an effort."
     "Does the good lady need a hand in lifting something?"
     "I must concentrate."
     It turned out that Mother Lua had  to use  will-power to open a certain
door that would obey her brain biocurrents.
     The young Faetians saw  a bright rectangle  in front of them,  with Lua
and Kutsi sharply silhouetted against it.
     Mada and Ave went into a spacious underground, plastic-lined corridor.
     "Aha!" said Kutsi Merc. "The ancient priests knew their materials."
     "We turn left for the Temple of Eternity."
     Kutsi Merc stopped and felt a thick cable in red braiding.
     Mada firmly squeezed Ave's fingers in her little hand.
     The footsteps of the Faetians rang under the low ceiling.
     Ave looked back  suspiciously to where  the corridor  made  a turn. The
light  that  had automatically come on  when they appeared had already  gone
out.
     Twice the Faetians were confronted by a  blank  wall, and each time, in
response to Mother Lua's mental command, the barrier disappeared to let them
pass through.
     "I  wouldn't  like to be left  here  without our companion,"  commented
Kutsi Merc.
     "Has  the  visitor from  Danjab  no  more  to say than that?" said  Lua
reproachfully.
     The  secret passage had branches, but Lua confidently walked past them,
leading the others along a route with which she was thoroughly familiar.
     Finally, she stopped again before a blank wall and looked intently into
the centre of a spiral ornament. This was enough for the wall to divide, and
Lua let the young  Faetians go  first  with Kutsi Merc,  then went  into the
familiar shrine herself.
     Mada huddled  closer to Ave. She had not been scared of going along the
underground passage, but the ancient temple with  its shrine and a roof that
disappeared into unseen heights had a disturbing effect on her imagination.
     Something stirred in the semidarkness and a voice rang out:
     "I welcome the  happy ones! I  guessed  that because of the bad weather
you  would use the tunnel  by  which the Dictator of Power-mania came to the
session."
     Mada Jupi looked in agitation  at the tall figure of the great Elder of
learning, who was standing on a dais. She thought of  the High Priest of the
temple who used to deliver his invocations from that spot. And his voice had
echoed under the dark vaults  then as now, when Um Sat began addressing  the
young Faetians.
     The  Elder  of  learning  tactfully  performed  a  rudimentary  wedding
ceremony, ending it with the words:
     "So be it!"
     His  voice echoed and re-echoed in the  depths of the shrine, as if the
ancient priests were chanting the responses.
     Then  Um Sat  embraced  each  of  the young  Faetians  and wished  them
happiness.
     Ave wanted to take his leave of Mada, but  Kutsi intervened, exchanging
significant glances with Mother Lua.
     "Isn't it worth going by the underground passage so as to see the young
bride off? She will let us out through the Blood Door."
     "Through our Blood Door!" said Mada, looking at Ave.
     Mother Lua stood meekly beside Kutsi, as if entirely dependent on him.
     And  again Ave  acted apparently of his  own  volition, expressing  his
willingness to go by the underground passage.
     Mother Lua heaved a sigh. She had devoted her whole life to ensure that
Mada took  after her mother and not her father. What  lay in store  for  the
girl?..
     Kutsi Merc was content and did not hide it.

     Chapter Five

        BLOOD

     Yar Alt, Supreme Officer of  the  Blood  Guard, was  proud that, on his
coming-of-age, his  strength  of character  had earned him  the  name of his
maternal uncle, Yar Jupi himself.
     He lived up  to his nickname  in the contingents of the Blood Guard, to
which he had been  appointed by the Dictator. Coarse, hot-tempered, ready to
strike and even to kill, he despised the views of others and could  not bear
objections.
     That was why the Dictator had given him the more important assignments.
And it had certainly not been by  chance that Yar Alt had met  on board ship
the son of Danjab's Ruler  arriving with his secretary. Camouflaging himself
with  the rudeness typical  of the security officers, he had been "checking"
the new arrivals, having decided not to let them out of sight.
     Finally,  as Yar Alt had been expecting, the young  Faetians and  their
companions entered the shrine through a gap in the wall.
     During the improvised wedding  ceremony under the temple vaults,  apart
from the  nanny and  the secretary, there had been one invisible witness. He
had been  unable to suppress  a groan, as  if  echoing, like the officiating
priests, the Elder's cry:
     "So be it!"
     Yar Alt had failed to win "full psycho-life contact" from  Mada,  while
this foreign half-breed had achieved it without effort. In the depths of his
soul, Yar Alt considered that  he could  have  become  a  totally  different
Faetian  if  his love had  been  reciprocated.  Tenderness,  sensitivity and
goodness  would  have blossomed  in him if  the  beautiful long-face  of his
choice had not responded to him with proud disdain. That was why Yar Alt had
come to hate the world.
     And now, in fear and shame at having groaned aloud, he kept himself  in
hand so as to carry out his duty.
     He waited until Mother  Lua led  the newly-weds and the  hunchback into
the secret passage, watched as Um Sat retired  to his  cell, and  only after
that  did he  risk going to the  hidden door. He strained all his will as he
ordered the wall  to divide.  And he  sighed with relief. The wall parted to
form an opening. Yar Alt dived through it.
     The  criminals  shouldn't have gone far. The biocurrents of the Supreme
Officer of the Blood Guard were effective. He would find the intruders while
they were still  underground and not give them a  chance  to shelter  in the
palace.
     He ran along the passage, but the cursed lamps were coming on and going
out again of  their own accord. He  stopped, realising that  they would give
him away. All it needed was for one of the party to look round...
     If only  the lovers could  have  suspected what they were walking past!
The galleries of the Central Console! The heart of the disintegration war!
     Why  hadn't the alarm gone off?  Or was  it  all because  of  the brain
biocurrents of the roundhead woman whom the automatic machines recognised as
friendly,  just as  they recognised him,  the  Supreme  Officer of the Blood
Guard?
     So reasoned Yar Alt as he hurried in pursuit  of  the departing  group.
Suddenly, he stopped abruptly.
     To one side, a gallery sloped steeply downwards;  along it ran a  cable
in red  braiding. It seemed to Yar Alt  that  the light had just gone out in
this gallery, which  certainly didn't lead to the Dictator's palace. Had the
hunchback turned off for the Central Console? Why?
     Yar  Alt caught his breath. Enemies were sneaking up to the Console! It
was  not just  a matter of purity of blood,  but of a threat to the whole of
Powermania!
     Without another thought, Yar Alt also turned  off  into the gallery and
ran headlong  down the slope. He  was blocked by  a  blank  wall.  The light
switched itself on and a spiral, the symbol of the Superiors, became visible
on the smooth surface.
     Yar Alt had never been here before and did not know whether he would be
able to  open the door in the Wall. Terror and fury  made  the force  of his
gaze ten times stronger as he fixed it on the spiral. The moment  before the
automatic  machines began  working seemed  agonisingly  long.  But  the Wall
divided.  His status  as Supreme Officer of the Blood Guard had  helped. The
biocurrents of his brain were familiar to these machines too.
     Yar Alt rushed through the gap.
     After a short while, he saw the  secretary and the nanny  walking ahead
of him.
     He drew a pistol loaded with  poisoned  bullets. Even a  light  scratch
would stun a man.
     Without  warning,  Yar Alt fired  at  the hunchback from behind.  Kutsi
started, but stayed on his feet. The bullet had ricocheted off his hump into
the wall.
     Alt fired  again and  yet again.  The shock of  the  bullets threw  the
secretary onto his knees this time.
     Yar Alt slowly walked up, waiting for his enemy to breathe his last.
     But the  other,  who was lying on his back,  suddenly kicked the weapon
out of Yar Alt's hand. It clattered over the flagstones.
     Alt flung himself on  the enemy as he struggled to get  up and tried to
pin the hunchback down to the floor.
     Kutsi Merc was unarmed. He had intentionally  not brought a weapon with
him, anticipating possible searches  which could have ruined his whole plan.
Endowed with exceptional strength, he would easily have coped with a lighter
opponent had it not been for the heavy burden on his back.
     Yar Alt drew  a long stiletto that served  him as a personal antenna in
the Blood Guard communications system.  Embracing the hunchback with one arm
and breathing heavily into  his  face, he drove  the stiletto into his back.
But the point slid over something solid, slitting the cloth.
     Yar  Alt thought  only of bullet-proof armour and of nothing else. This
spelled disaster, and not only for him.
     Almost without hope of  success, Yar Alt stabbed his foe  in the chest.
Strange to  say,  the  hunchback had no  frontal  armour.  The stiletto went
straight into Kutsi's heart. His grip loosened and he fell backwards. A pool
of blood spread over the stones.
     Yar Alt  jumped  to his feet and  prodded  the hunchback with his foot.
Only then did he turn to Mother Lua.
     But she was not there. She had snatched up Alt's pistol and disappeared
during the brief struggle so as to warn Mada and save her life.
     Yar Alt ran forward and immediately came up against  the blank Wall. He
fixed a malignant  glare  on the centre  of the spiral, but it never budged.
Yar Alt realised that Mother Lua was standing on the other side of  the door
and by  effort of will was commanding the door not to open. That was why the
automatic machines were not reacting to his own command!
     A  struggle began between Yar Alt and Mother Lua. Separated by a  solid
barrier,  they glared  furiously  at  the centres  of the  two spirals.  The
programmed machines were paralysed by the opposing wills.
     Yar Alt was bathed  in drops  of sweat and his lips were  flecked  with
foam.
     It  had been easier to  kill  Kutsi Merc than to cope with  this damned
witch. He knew  that  she composed forbidden songs. Her kind  had  once been
burned at the stake.
     Finally, the Wall shuddered and parted to leave a gap, but slammed shut
again.  Yar Alt just  managed to catch sight of  the  nanny. Fortunately, it
hadn't  occurred to  her to shoot at  him. At the mere thought of  this, Yar
Alt's skin crawled. He had not noticed how exhausted she had been.
     The Wall shuddered and was  still by turns. Yar Alt ground  his  teeth.
Mother Lua's mistake had suggested a plan of  action.  He wanted very little
now: it  was  for a  gap to open for only a fraction of a second. He himself
would not, of course, be in front of it.
     The perspiration streamed into his eyes. In a wild frenzy, he continued
drilling the  centre of the  spiral with his  eyes, commanding  the Wall  to
open.  He  made ready, drawing  his left  arm back in  order  to  throw  the
stiletto.
     Mother Lua was almost losing consciousness. Her arms hung helplessly by
her sides. She knew her own life and that of  her favourite depended  on her
will-power.
     The nanny swayed. The Wall opened just a little way. Yar Alt waited for
the  right  moment and hurled his stiletto  through the gap. It  pierced the
roundhead woman in the throat. Her eyes went blank and the Wall divided.
     Yar Alt jumped over the fallen nanny. He tugged the stiletto out of her
throat and started racing down the corridor. After a few strides he suddenly
realised that he had not retrieved his  pistol from Mother Lua. He was about
to go  back, but changed his mind, hurrying to catch  up with  Ave  Mar  and
Mada. The traitress who had led the evildoer towards the Central Console had
already received her deserts!
     Yar Alt ran along the underground passage  and the lighting went on  as
he approached and went out again behind him.
     The  Wall  directly before the palace barred  his  way  once again, but
opened as soon as he glanced at the spiral.
     He was now in the palace. The monastery building, reconstructed for the
Dictator,  still  bore  the features  of  the  old architecture. Low vaulted
ceilings, slit windows from floor to ceiling.
     The  rooms  were sumptuously decorated for  ceremonial  assemblies that
were no longer held for fear that the Dictator might be assassinated.
     Yar Alt knew how to get through to Mada's chambers. Subtle taste and  a
woman's hand had completely transformed the austere cells and oratories. Yar
Alt burst  into one that had been decorated with pale blue fabric and silver
cords, and it was there that he found Ave and Mada.
     Mada was doing her hair. Beside herself with fury, she turned round and
stamped her foot.
     "How dare you burst in on me, you despicable robot of the Guard?"
     Yar Alt showered Mada with threats.
     "Silence, you boor!" exploded the furious  Ave Mar, drawing  himself up
to his full height.
     Mada shielded him with her body.
     "Get  out of  here,  you filthy robot! You're not worth  a hair  of  my
husband's head!"
     "Husband?"  Yar  Alt  bellowed  with offensive laughter. "They  are  no
longer alive, the unscrupulous witnesses of your ignominious ceremony  under
cover  of  which  the  enemies  of  the  Superiors planned to  wipe out  our
continent!"
     "Blood on your hands and slander on  your  tongue-that is all you stand
for! What can you know of goodness, love and nobility?"
     Yar Alt pushed Mada roughly out of  the way and hurled himself with his
stiletto  on the unarmed Ave. The  other fended him off  with a kick. As  he
fell, Alt seized hold of Mada and tried to stab her.
     Ave  Mar gripped  his arm and twisted it so that  the  weapon  tore Yar
Alt's own tunic.
     Yar Alt was an experienced fighter. Ave Mar was an experienced athlete.
They locked in combat, rolling about the ancient oratory and leaving a trail
of bloodstains on the carpet.
     Mada stared transfixed and could not tell whose blood it was. Ave Mar's
face was smeared all over with it.
     Yar Alt stabbed Ave several times, but could not draw his hand far back
enough for the  fatal blow. Ave Mar sprang to his feet, seized a heavy chair
and hurled it at his opponent. The other tried to dodge it, but a leg caught
him on the head  and he fell onto the floor. He nevertheless managed to draw
back the stiletto, taking aim for a throw at Mada.
     Ave Mar struck Yar  Alt  on the  temple. His enemy was flung backwards,
but  threw out his legs  and locked them round  Ave's ankles. Turning with a
jerk, he threw Ave to the floor, then, getting up onto his knees, raised the
stiletto. Ave knocked the weapon out of his hand.
     Two shots rang out in succession. Mother  Lua crawled through the door,
a  pistol dancing  in her hand. Yar Alt reached  for his stiletto  again  to
finish Ave off.
     Mada rushed to Lua,  snatched  the weapon  out of her  failing hand and
pressed  the firing  button. Yar Alt  jerked  convulsively, slumped, and lay
still.
     "He loaded it with  poisoned  bullets  himself," gasped Mother Lua. "My
dear, what will become of you?.."
     Ave Mar rose to his feet and, breathing heavily, looked in amazement at
the body  of his adversary  and at the unperturbed  Mada.  But  she suddenly
threw the pistol aside with revulsion.
     "Blood! Blood!" she said in despair. "Now there can only be death. They
will tear you to pieces, my husband. No one  will believe  it was  I who did
this."
     Ave Mar himself couldn't believe it as he stared in bewilderment at his
bloodstained hands.

     Chapter Six

        NO HAPPINESS IN THIS WORLD

     Mada  Jupi  was,  of  course,  a  pampered  child. Her every  wish  was
fulfilled, she was glorified and bowed down to. But she had nevertheless not
become  spoiled  and  capricious,  or incapable  of doing anything  but give
orders. Mother  Lua, who  preserved the  wisdom of the  people,  had managed
after the death of Mada's mother to inspire the girl with the  idea of equal
rights for  all  Faetians, whatever  their  outward appearance.  Restrained,
always  calm.  Mother  Lua had  the rare  talent of  the story-teller and an
innate  gift  of  influencing the minds  of others. In another  country,  at
another time. Mother Lua would have been the pride of the people; but on the
barbarian continent of Power-mania's Superiors she was only a nanny-true, of
the Dictator's daughter. She had always held up the girl's own mother as  an
example, convincing her that the daughter should follow suit.
     Mada grew up resembling her mother, but  she also took after her father
to some  extent.  Perhaps  in  her ability  to love and  hate  to  extremes.
Consequently, the meeting with Ave swept her right off her feet. She fell in
love, and a soft tenderness  was  combined  with ruthless determination, and
bewilderment with irrepressible daring. She had shot Yar Alt as if he were a
mad beast, yet she was dismayed at the sight of his body.
     The nanny  was dying.  Mada kneeled in  front of her, listening as  she
whispered something almost inaudible.
     "Nanny is  talking about her son. And  she  says  that Yar Alt murdered
Kutsi."
     "Where? How?"
     But  Mother Lua could not say any more. Her strength had ebbed away. No
efforts on Mada's part were of any avail, neither the kiss of life nor heart
massage. The nanny's  eyes closed and her body  stretched out  The hand that
Mada had been holding began to turn cold. There was no pulse any more.
     "It's the end," said Mada, and she burst into tears.
     Ave now saw his companion  as a weak and helpless girl.  Like a  child,
she shook her nurse, kissed her cold hands and tried to wake her up.
     Finally she turned her tear-stained face to Ave.
     "My nanny  is dead.  She was so kind and clever! And we are  finished."
And she glanced at Yar Alt's contorted body. "Just think! He was my cousin."
     "Maybe we should try and help him!"
     Mada shuddered.
     "The bullets were poisoned. I don't know how my poor nanny came  by his
pistol." She began sobbing again.
     Ave decided  that  he must do something. He lifted up the dead Alt, who
had stiffened in his last convulsions, and  carried him into a corner of the
room behind the curtains.
     Mada stood up determinedly and threw her head back.
     "It's no use. The  Guards will  be here soon, and  then my father." She
picked Alt's pistol up off  the floor. "Forgive me for taking charge  of our
last step.  There is no need to  fire a bullet. One scratch is enough. Death
will be instant. We shall hold hands  with  a bullet in our palms.  We shall
leave this world in which there is no happiness for us."
     Ave looked  into her  face: determination  in her  was  struggling with
despair.
     Mada took the last round out of the pistol. The  bullet was silvery and
its sharp prickles were brown where the poisonous coating had been applied.
     Ave resolutely gripped Mada's hand.
     "No! Faetians don't give in so easily. We can still  renounce life, but
happiness... No!"
     "There is no happiness in this world," replied Mada.
     "Show  me  the way  into the garden," said  Ave  masterfully, "and then
through the Blood Door."
     "You think we can flee  somewhere? Dawn is near, the last  in our life.
Can you hear the birds  singing?  I  shall  follow you  because you  are  my
husband.  But  we shall take the prickly bullet with us.  It  will be a safe
protection for us."
     "Lead the way," urged Ave.
     Mada looked at  him  curiously. Until  now, she had thought herself the
stronger.
     They carried Lua's body to a couch and Mada spread over it a  pale blue
coverlet from her bed. Then she showed Ave a low door  leading into a narrow
passage that ended in a steep ladder.
     Just before dawn,  the garden had  changed  completely. A silvery cloud
had  filled the avenues,  hiding the bushes  and  tree-trunks from  view. It
seemed to Ave  that he and Mada  were walking into another  world above  the
clouds. He clasped her slender hand more tightly.
     The quivering mist at their feet seemed treacherous, weightless and yet
dense. It was as if there might be water under it  one  moment and an  abyss
the next.
     Mada stepped fearlessly into the  swirling mist and  took Ave with her.
The obedient Blood Door opened in front of her.
     A  dense mist had enveloped the ruins of the old shrine under the Dread
Wall. As they walked  breast-high through the cloud that lay on  the stones,
Ave and Mada seemed to be fording a river of foam.
     Mada knew the way. They came surprisingly soon to the black building of
the Temple of Eternity. Ave thought that the unfortunate Kutsi must have led
them  the  long  way round. Poor wretch! It cost Ave  an effort  to restrain
himself; he did  not even  allow himself a sigh,  but he felt sorry  for the
man.
     Ave despised his  own habitual changes of mood. But now he was firm and
knew what had to be done. That was why he was taking Mada to Um Sat.
     The Elder was astounded when he saw the  newly-weds on the threshold of
his cell once again.
     He gave Mada a seat  in an armchair opposite the table at  which he had
spent the whole night. Ave stood beside Mada.
     "What's happened? Can I help you in any way?"
     "There  is no happiness in this world," cried Ave. "But  in your  power
there is another world!"
     The Elder raised his eyebrows in astonishment.
     "There is another world in space," explained Ave, and he told the Elder
all about what had happened.
     Um Sat became thoughtful.
     "So I must accept Yar Jupi's conditions and, in my turn, demand that he
send  his daughter to  Terr? Doesn't that seem incredible? To take refuge in
space?"
     "But  that would mean salvation  not  only for me and Ave,"  intervened
Mada. "It would be the fulfilment of a dream: to help the Faetians,  to find
them a new  world. Nanny and Mother were thinking about it. Not only Ave and
I, but  all of  us could be  happy there. It's not  just for myself that I'm
ready to fly to Terr. That's what I'm going to tell my father."
     Mada understood global problems in no way more deeply than Um Sat.
     "What duties as an astronaut can Mada carry out?" asked Um Sat sternly.
     "I  am a Sister of Health.  We are needed everywhere. And not  only for
the children."
     "That's true," agreed Um Sat. "Ave Mar, you will stay here,  no  one is
going  to look for  your  secretary.  Mada must go to  her chambers and lock
herself in. Ave, see your young wife as far  as the Dread Wall.  It's a good
thing that you both look  on the  trip to Terr as an exploit, not just as an
escape."


     After their departure, the Elder sat for a while in reflection. Then he
summoned several sages  of  learning  who had arrived  for the session. They
filled his cell. Many of them were  roundheads, but there were  longfaces as
well. As they came in, each  touched his right eyebrow with  his left  hand.
When the  cell was packed  full, Um Sat asked if he should fly from Faena on
the eve of possible  events  for  which, in the name of Justice, the toilers
and their friends had been preparing for so many cycles.
     After all, he was an  adherent of the struggle  against the proprietors
on both continents, although he had not fully fathomed its depths.
     Those present decided unanimously that Um Sat, the  personification and
pride of learning on Faena, should go into space to find the continents that
the Faetians needed. Many of them considered  that in  this  way  they would
best safeguard the life of  the great Elder, but no one said anything  about
it to him.
     Um Sat threw  his  hands apart. He must submit to the general decision.
He had now received the right to  act.  When Ave returned, Um Sat called the
Dictator's secretary over the closed TV. The screen lit  up and the slits of
the secretary box glittered on it.
     "Dictator Jupi,  most  illustrious  of  the  illustrious,  consents  to
receive  the  honorary longface Um Sat  and is  sending an  escort for him,"
announced the box, which had been programmed to  speak in the old style. The
screen went blank.
     "What?"  whispered  Ave Mar. "Go into  the Lair? Doesn't this mean that
Yar Jupi wants to take a hostage?"
     The Elder smiled sadly.
     "The risk is not so great."
     An officer of the  Blood  Guard soon appeared in  the cell. Ave's blood
froze. Before him stood the living Yar Alt.
     The caller bowed  to the  Elder,  glanced  casually  at  Ave  and  said
pompously:
     "The greatest of the great,  the Dictator Yar Jupi, gave you the right,
honorary long-face, to enter his presence. I have been sent to escort you to
the palace."
     Ave Mar  had  the impression that even the Blood Guard officer's  voice
was the same as  Alt's. Had he  really come back from the dead? Perhaps  the
paralysis caused  by the bullet had  only been temporary. But why didn't  he
rush at Ave the way he had done in Mada's room?
     The  officer of  the Blood Guard merely glanced indifferently  again at
Ave Mar and bowed to him.
     "In the name of the most illustrious Dictator, I bear apologies  to the
honoured guest."
     As soon as the officer of the Blood Guard and Um Sat had gone  out, Ave
Mar rushed to the door of the cell.  To his amazement, it was unlocked. Only
then did Ave  Mar realise  that the  officer's  face had been innocent of  a
scar.


     Dictator Yar  Jupi was waiting  impatiently for Um  Sat  Omnipotent  by
grace of the Blood Council, capable in favour of  the proprietors of sending
millions  of Faetians to their death and ready to  unleash  a disintegration
war  at any moment, he was powerless to safeguard the one life that was  the
most dear to him.
     Yar Jupi was a complicated person. He understood extremely well whom he
was serving and  how. After losing his wife in his time, he had come to hate
the roundheads from whom she had  contracted  a fatal disease  while nursing
them. This hatred had finally found expression in a barefaced doctrine which
it was impossible to believe, but which proved convenient to the proprietors
from  the Blood Council. Now, at the height of power, when he was ostensibly
leading the life of an ascetic in voluntary seclusion, love for his daughter
had become the only ray of light to Yar  Jupi. Everything else was darkness:
fear  for his own life, terror  of a war which he was nevertheless preparing
himself, terror also of the toilers and of his own masters who were ready to
get rid of him.
     The thing that mattered to  him most now was Mada's safety. She was the
only one he would want to save from among the millions of doomed.
     But how?
     And so, in fulfilment of the complex plan that had  occurred to him, he
had appeared  unexpectedly during a session of Peaceful Space in the  Temple
of Eternity. And now Um Sat was due to arrive.
     The officer of the Blood Guard, Yar  Alt's brother, handed Um Sat  over
to two security robots which led the sage of learning through low-ceilinged,
sumptuously furnished halls.
     Urn Sat glanced out of the corner of his eye at his unwieldy bodyguards
or escorts with their cubic heads and hooked, scaly manipulators.
     In one of  the rooms, a box with glittering  slits in it, just like the
one  that  the  Dictator  used,  said  with  programmed  floweriness  in the
impeccable ancient manner:
     "Urn Sat, honorary longface, may pass through the door in front of him,
on  the other side of which there awaits  him the most blissful meeting with
the greatest of the great,  the most  brilliant of the  brilliant, Yar Jupi,
Dictator of the continent of the Superiors."
     The door opened of its own  accord,  the  robot  security  guards  fell
behind and Urn Sat went into the grim, empty dungeon with the grey walls.
     Yar  Jupi,  bearded,  hook-nosed, with  a  shaven  skull and upslanting
eyebrows, rushed to meet the visitor, riveting him with a piercing, half-mad
stare.
     "Does Urn Sat realise what honour  and trust has been afforded him?" he
shouted.
     "Yes,  so  be it,"  sighed the  Elder.  "Though  I be  unworthy of such
honour, I may be trusted."
     "I am going to talk as Superior to Superior, the  more so since you are
famous for your mind," said the Dictator more calmly this time.
     According to  the  ritual, the guest was  supposed  to reply  that  his
brains  were below comparison with the  divine and  enlightened intellect of
Yar Jupi, but Um Sat calmly said:
     "I shall  converse with the  Dictator Yar Jupi as  an Elder of learning
with a politician, striving to understand and be understood."
     Yar Jupi  started, his nose twitched and his  face  was  distorted by a
nervous grimace. He looked sideways at  a niche under the window. There were
wonderful flowers standing in it. Their tender, dark-blue corollas  with the
golden sprinkling of the finest stars, each with  up  to six  petals, looked
down, dangling on bowed stems.
     This was a miracle, bred by the nurserymen on the orders of Yar Jupi, a
passionate  lover of  flowers. But it  was  not  their evening  beauty  that
attracted  him. The  submissive  horticulturalists  had managed to  breed  a
vegetable  miracle,  or  rather  monster,  which  exuded an aroma  that  was
poisonous, however  gentle it might seem.  Any  Faetian  who  inhaled it was
stricken down with a fatal disease.  More than once,  rare  visitors to this
study,  excessively  independent-minded  comrades-in-arms, received  by  the
Dictator   with   unexpected  warmth,   sometimes   even  a   few   of   his
over-discontented masters, the big proprietors, had been privileged to sniff
the greatest of all treasures. On  returning home,  they  had died in  agony
without suspecting why.
     Needless  to  say,  a  reliable  ventilation  system  was  sucking  the
dangerous scent out of the room.
     "Well?" asked the Dictator nervously.
     "After thinking it  over all night, I have decided to accept your offer
and lead the expedition to the planet Terr."
     Yar Jupi started and sighed with relief.
     "Urn Sat,  having become an honorary longface, you confirm your wisdom.
I shall glorify this on both continents. However, yesterday in the Temple of
Eternity, I had in mind one stipulation which you will have to observe."
     "I  also  wanted  to  add  a  condition  to  my  consent  to  head  the
expedition."
     "I can't bear it when conditions are imposed on me," said the Dictator,
raising his voice slightly.
     "It  is  rather  the  first practical  step  to complementing the space
crew."
     "I shall  complement the space crew with longfaces, the  most worthy of
the worthy."
     "Perhaps Dictator Yar Jupi will remember yesterday's promise to include
any of the longfaces in the crew."
     "I confirm that, even if it means my daughter."
     "The daughter  of Dictator Yar Jupi?" Dm Sat was  truly  astonished. It
had never even entered his head that  the Dictator himself  would talk about
her first.
     "Do you dare to regard my daughter as ballast on the flight when she is
a Sister of Health?" said Yar Jupi, raising his voice.
     Both men  fell  silent,  studying each  other.  No matter how clever he
might be, it had never occurred to Urn Sat  that the Dictator had thought of
saving  his daughter from the horrors of a disintegration war by sending her
on a space expedition; and however cunning and crafty  Yar Jupi might be, he
could not have presumed that  Dm Sat  had  come  to  him solely in  order to
obtain his consent to hi