The Weakling Page 2
of the Common Good, stood examining the assortmentof crystals in a cabinet. He hesitated over a large, brilliantlygleaming sphere of crystallized carbon, then shook his head. That onewould be pretty heavy going, he was sure. The high intensity summarysaid something about problems of the modern world, so it could beexpected to be another of those dull reports on the welfare of theCommonwealth.
Why, he wondered, did some projection maker waste good time and effortby making up things like that? And why did they waste more time andeffort by sending them around? When a man wanted to relax, he wantedsomething to relax with. What he was looking for was something light.
He turned his attention to other crystals, at last selecting a small,blue prism. He held it up, regarding it, then nodded and placed it onthe slender black pedestal near his chair, where he could observewithout undue effort.
He turned, examining each corner of his empty study, then took hissapphire-tipped golden staff from under his arm, placing it carefully ona rack built into his chair arm, where it would be convenient to hishand should the need arise.
One could never be too careful, he thought. Of course, he could dealwith any recalcitrant slave by other means, but the distorter wasconvenient and could be depended upon to give any degree of pressuredesired. And it was a lot less trouble to use than to concentrate onmore fatiguing efforts such as neural pressure or selective paralysis.
One must conserve one's powers for times when they might be reallyneeded.
Too, there was the remote possibility that some lackland wanderer mightcome by and find a flaw in the protection of the Estates--even somehowpenetrate to the Residence. Barra shuddered at that thought, thenshrugged it off. Kira Barra was well protected, of that he had madesure. Ever vigilant surrogates were deposited in all the strategic spotsof the Estates--not only to allow quick observations of the condition ofthe lands, but also to give automatic warning of the approach of anyoneof inimical turn of mind.
He eased his bulk into the chair, twisted about for a few moments as itadjusted to fit his body, then leaned back with a sigh of relaxation anddirected his thoughts to the crystal before him.
Under the impulses of his amplified thought, the crystal glowed,appeared to expand, then became a three-dimensional vista.
The high intensity summary and excerpt leader had been not toodeceptive, Barra told himself as the story unfolded. It was a well doneadventure projection, based on the war with the Fifth planet.Critically, he watched the actions of a scout crew, approving of theauthor's treatment and selection of material. He, Barra, was somethingof a connoisseur of these adventure crystals, even though he had neverfound it necessary to leave the protection of Earth's surface.
He shrugged, taking his attention from the projection.
The lacklanders, he told himself--entertainment people, caravan masters,seafarers, other wanderers of light responsibility--were the naturalones to be selected to go out and deal with remote emergencies.
Like all stable, responsible men of property and worth, he was far toovaluable to the Commonwealth to risk himself in wild dashes to the dead,non-psionic lands, or out into the emptiness of space. As far as riskinghimself on combat missions of interplanetary war-- He shook his head.This was pure stupidity.
He frowned uneasily. It had been a bit unfair, though, of theControllers. They had completely excused him from service on the basisof inaptitude. It had rankled ever since.
Of course he couldn't be expected to dash madly about in some two-manscout. Even as his brother's assistant, he had been a person of quitedefinite standing and responsibility and such antics would have beenbeneath his dignity. He had made that quite plain to them.
There had been responsible posts where a man of his quality and standingcould have been of positive value. And, as he had pointed out, theycould have assigned him to one of those.
But no! They had merely excused him. Inapt!
As far as that went, he told himself angrily, he, Kio Barra, couldcomport himself with the best if necessity demanded.
Those dashing characters in this projection were, of course, thefigments of some unstable dreamer's imagination. But they showed theinstability of the usual lackland wanderers. And what could such men dothat a solid, responsible man like himself couldn't do better?
He returned to the crystal, then shook his head in disgust. It hadbecome full--flat--meaningless. Besides, he had matters of real importto take care.
He directed his attention to the chair, which obediently swung aboutuntil he faced his large view crystal.
"Might as well have a look at the East Shore," he told himself.
* * * * *
As he focused his attention, the crystal expanded, then became a hugewindow through which he could see the shores of the inland sea, then thelands to the east of the large island on which he had caused hisResidence to be built. He looked approvingly at the rolling, tree-cladhills as the view progressed.
Suddenly, he frowned in annoyance. The great northern null was inturbulence again, thrusting its shapeless arms down toward the bordersof Kira Barra. He growled softly.
There, he told himself, was the result of the carelessness of thoselackland fools who had been entrusted with the defense of the homeplanet. Their loose, poorly planned defenses had allowed the pseudomenof the Fifth to dash in and drop their destructors in a good many spotson the surface. And here was one of them.
Here was a huge area which had once been the site of a great city andwhich had contained the prosperous and productive estates of a MasterProtector, now reduced to a mere wasteland into which slaves mightescape, to lead a brute-like existence in idleness.
He had lost pseudomen slaves in this very null and he knew he wouldprobably lose more. Despite the vigilance of the surrogates, they keptslipping across the river and disappearing into that swirlingnothingness. And now, with that prominence so close--
He had no guards he could trust to go after the fellows, either. Suchherd guards as he had would decide to desert their protector and take upthe idle life which their fellow pseudomen had adopted. A few of themhad gone out and done just that. Their memories of the protection andprivileges granted them were short and undependable. He sighed.
"Ungrateful beasts!"
Some Master Protectors had little trouble along that line. Others hadmanaged to hire the services of halfmen--weak psionics, too weak togovern and yet strong and able enough to be more than mere pseudomen.
These halfmen made superb, loyal guards and overseers--for some--butnone had remained at Kira Barra. They had come, to be sure, but they hadstayed on for a time, then drifted away.
And, he thought angrily, it was illegal to restrain these halfmen inany way. Some soft-headed fool had granted their kind the rights ofCommonwealth citizenship. Halfmen had even managed to take service withthe fleet during the war with the Fifth Planet. Some of them had evenmanaged somehow to be of small value--and now many of them held thestatus of veterans of that victorious war--a status he, one of the greatlandholders, was denied.
No, he told himself, until such time as the nulls were solved andeliminated, such pseudomen as managed to cross the northeastern riverwere safe enough in their unknown land. And, he thought sourly, thescholars had made no progress in their studies of the nulls.
Probably they were concerning themselves with studies more likely togive them preferment or more immediate personal gain.
Of course, the wasteland wasn't entirely unknown, not to him, at least.He had viewed the area personally. There were hilltops on the Estatesfrom which ordinary eyesight would penetrate far into the dead area,even though the more powerful and accurate parasight was stopped at itsborders. Yes, he had seen the affected area.
He had noted that much of it had regained a measure of fertility. Therewas life now--some of it his own meat lizards who had wandered acrossthe river and out of his control. And he had even seen some of theescaped pseudomen slinking through the scrub growth and making theircrudely primitive camps.
r /> "Savages!" he told himself. "Mere animals. And one can't do a thingabout them, so long as they let that dead area persist."
Eventually, the scholars had reported, the dead areas would diminish andfade from existence. He smiled bitterly. Here was a nice evasion--a neatexcuse for avoiding study and possible, dangerous research.
So long as those nulls remained, they would be sources of constant lossof the responsible Master Protectors, and would thus threaten the veryfoundations of the Commonwealth.
Possibly, he should-- He shook his head.
No, he thought, this was impractical. Parasight was worthless beyond theborders of the null. No surrogate could penetrate it and no weapon wouldoperate within it. It would be most unsafe for any true man to enter.There, one would be subject to gross, physical attack and unable to makeproper defense against it.
Certainly, the northern null was no place for him to go. Only thepseudomen could possibly tolerate the conditions to be found there, andthus, there they had found haven and were temporarily supreme.
Besides, this matter was the responsibility of the Council ofControllers and the scholars they paid so highly.
He concentrated on the crystal, shifting the view to scan toward thenearest village.
* * * * *
Suddenly, he sat forward in his chair. A herd of saurians was slowlydrifting toward one of the arms the null had thrust out. Shortly, theywould have ambled into a stream and beyond, out of all possible control.Perhaps they might wander for years in the wastelands. Perhaps they andtheir increase might furnish meat for the pseudomen who lurked insidethe swirling blankness.
He snarled to himself. No herders were in sight. No guard was inattendance. He would have to attend to this matter himself. Heconcentrated his attention on the power crystals of a distant surrogate,willing his entire ego into the controls.
At last, the herd leader's head came up. Then the long-neck curved,snaking around until the huge beast stared directly at the heap of rockswhich housed the crystals of the surrogate himself. The slow drift ofthe herd slowed even more, then stopped as the other brutes dimlyrecognized that something had changed. More of the ridiculously tinyheads swiveled toward the surrogate.
Kio Barra squirmed in his chair. Holding these empty minds was a chorehe had always hated.
Certainly, there was less total effort than that required for thecontrol of the more highly organized pseudomen, but the more complexminds reacted with some speed and the effort was soon over. There was ashort, sometimes sharp struggle, then surrender.
But this was long-term, dragging toil--a steady pushing at a soggy,unresisting, yet heavy mass. And full concentration was imperative ifanything was to be accomplished. The reptilian minds were as unstableas they were empty and would slip away unless firmly held. He staredmotionlessly at his crystal, willing the huge reptiles to turn--towaddle back to the safe grasslands of the estate, far from the null.
At last, the herd was again in motion. One by one, the huge brutes swungabout and galloped clumsily toward more usual pastures, their long necksswaying loosely with their motion.
Switching from surrogate to surrogate, Barra followed them, urged them,forced them along until they plunged into the wide swamp northeast ofTibara village.
He signed wearily and shifted his viewpoint to a surrogate whichoverlooked the village itself. What, he wondered, had happened to theherdsmen--and to the guards who should be overseeing the day's work?
* * * * *
Half hidden among ferns and the mastlike stems of trees, the rude hutsof Tibara nestled in the forest, blending with their surroundings, untilonly the knowing observer could identify them by vague form. Barrashifted his viewpoint to the central village surrogate.
There were other open spaces in the village, but this was the largest.Here was the village well, near which a few children played someincomprehensible game. An old man had collected a pile of rock and hadstarted work on the well curb. Now, he sat near his work, leaningagainst the partly torn down wall. Spots of sunlight, coming throughthe fronds high above, struck his body, leaving his face in shadow. Hedozed in the warmth, occasionally allowing his eyes to half open as heidly regarded the scene before him.
Before some of the huts surrounding the rude plaza, women squatted onthe ground, their arms swinging monotonously up and down as they strucktheir wooden pestles into bowls of grain which they were grinding tomake the coarse meal which was their mainstay of diet.
A few men could be seen, scratching at small garden plots or idlyrepairing tools. Others squatted near their huts, their attentionoccupied by fishing gear. Still others merely leaned against convenienttrees, looking at each other, their mouths moving in the grotesque wayof the pseudoman when he could find an excuse to idle away time.
Barra listened to the meaningless chatter of grunts and hisses, thendisregarded the sounds. They formed, he had been told, a sort ofelementary code of communication. He coughed disparagingly. Only somesubhuman could bring himself to study such things.
Of course, he knew that some lacklanders could make vocal converse withthe pseudomen and caravan masters seemed to do it as a regular thing,but he could see no point in such effort. He could make his demandsknown without lowering himself by making idiotic noises.
His communicator crystals would drive simple thoughts into even thethick skulls of his slaves. And he could--and did--thus get obedienceand performance from those slaves by using normal, sensible means asbefitted one of the race of true men.
And what would one want of the pseudomen other than obedience? Would oneperhaps wish to discuss matters of abstract interest with these beastmen? He regarded the scene with growing irritation.
Now, he remembered. It was one of those days of rest which some idiot inthe Council had once sponsored. And a group of soft-headed fools hadconcurred, so that one now had to tolerate periodic days of idleness.
Times had changed, he thought. There had been a time when slaves wereslaves and a man could expect to get work from them in return for hisprotection and support.
But even with these new, soft laws, herds must be guarded--especiallywith that null expanding as it was. Even some lackland idiot should beable to understand that much.
He turned his attention to the headman's hut.
The man was there. Surrounded by a few villagers, he squatted before hisflimsy, frond-roofed hut, his mouth in grotesque motion. Now, he stoppedhis noisemaking and poised his head. Then he nodded, looking about thevillage.
Obviously, he was taking his ease and allowing his people to do as theywould, without supervision.
Barra started to concentrate on the surrogate, to make his wishes andhis displeasure known. Then he turned impatiently from the crystal,seizing his staff. Efficient as the surrogates were, there were somethings better attended to in person.
* * * * *
He got to his feet and strode angrily out of the study, sending aperemptory summons before him. As he entered the wide hallway, anelderly slave came toward him. Barra looked at the man imperiously.
"My cloak," he demanded, "and the cap of power."
He projected the image of his fiber cloak and of the heavy goldheadpiece with its precisely positioned crystals, being careful to notethe red, green and blue glow of the various jewels. Meticulously, hefilled in details of the gracefully formed filigree which formed mountsto support the glowing spheres. And he indicated the padded headpiecewith its incrustation of crystal carbon, so his servitor could make nomistake. The man was more sensitive than one of the village slaves, buteven so, he was merely a pseudoman and had to have things carefullydelineated for him.
As the man walked toward a closet, Barra looked after him unhappily. Theheavy power and control circlet was unnecessary in the Residence, foramplifiers installed in the building took care of all requirements. Butoutside, in the village and fields, a portable source of power andcontrol was indispensable and this heavy
gold cap was the best device hehad been able to find.
Even so, he hated to wear the circlet. The massive crystals mounted ontheir supporting points weighed a couple of pounds by themselves andthough the gold insulating supports were designed as finely as possible,the metal was still massive and heavy. It was a definite strain on hisneck muscles to wear the thing and he always got a headache from it.
For an instant, envy of the powerful psionics crossed his mind. Therewere, he knew, those who required no control or power devices, beingable to govern and direct psionic forces without aid. But his powers,though effective as any, required amplification and when he went out ofthe Residence it was essential that he have the cap with him.
Proper and forceful handling of the things of the Estates, both animateand inanimate, demanded considerable psionic power and this made thelarge red power crystal at the center of his cap most necessary.
Besides, simultaneous control problems could be difficult--sometimeseven almost impossible--without the co-ordinating crystals which wereinset at the periphery of the headband.
And there was the possibility that he might meet some trespassinglacklander who might have to be impressed with the resources of themaster of Kira Barra. He knew of more than one instance wherein a MasterProtector had been overcome by some predatory lackland wanderer, who hadthen managed by one means or another to secure his own accession to theestates of his victim. He smiled grimly.
Carelessness could be costly. He had proved that to his brother.
Kio Barra still remembered the first time he had quarreled violentlywith Boemar. He still remembered the gentle, sympathetic smile and thesudden, twisting agony that had shot through him as his power crystaloverloaded. The flare of energy had left him incapable of so much asreceiving a strongly driven thought for many days.
He laughed. But, poor, soft fool that he had been, Boemar had carefullynursed his brother's mind back to strength again.
Yes, Boemar had been a powerful man, but a very unwise one. And he hadforgotten the one great strength of his weaker brother--a strength thathad grown as Leuwan aged. And so, it was