CHAPTER II
_Three-score men sit in the crowded, smoke-filled room. Some drinkbeer, some squat in moody silence, some talk in an animated fashionabout nothing very urgent. At the one small door, two guards pace backand forth slowly, creating a gentle swaying of smoke-patterns in thehazy room. The guards, in simple military uniform, carry small, deadlylooking weapons._
FIRST MAN: Fight City Hall? Are you kidding? They took you, bud.Don't try to fight it. I know. I _know_.
SECOND MAN: I'm telling you, there was a mistake in the records. I'mover twenty-six. Two weeks and two days. Already I wrote to myCongressman. Hell, that's why I voted for him, he better go to bat forme.
THIRD MAN: You think that's something? I wouldn't be here only thosedoctors are crazy. I mean, crazy. Me, with a cyst big as a golf ballon the base of my spine.
FIRST MAN: You too. Don't try to fight it.
FOURTH MAN: (Newly named Alaric Arkalion III) I look forward to thisas a stimulating adventure. Does the fact that they select men for theNowhere Journey once every seven hundred and eighty days strike anyoneas significant?
SECOND MAN: I got my own problems.
ALARIC ARKALION: This is not a thalamic problem, young man. Notthalamic at all.
THIRD MAN: Young man? Who are you kidding?
ALARIC ARKALION: (Who realizes, thanks to the plastic surgeon, he isthe youngest looking of all, with red cheeks and peach-fuzz whiskers)It is a problem of the intellect. Why seven hundred and eighty days?
FIRST MAN: I read the magazines, too, chief. You think we're all goingto the planet Mars. How original.
ALARIC ARKALION: As a matter of fact, that is exactly what I think.
SECOND MAN: Mars?
FIRST MAN (Laughing) It's a long way from Mars to City Hall, doc.
SECOND MAN: You mean, through space to Mars?
ALARIC ARKALION: Exactly, exactly. Quite a coincidence, otherwise.
FIRST MAN: You're telling me.
ALARIC ARKALION: (Coldly) Would you care to explain it?
FIRST MAN: Why, sure. You see, Mars is--uh, I don't want to steal yourthunder, chief. Go ahead.
ALARIC ARKALION: Once every seven hundred and eighty days Mars and theEarth find themselves in the same orbital position with respect to thesun. In other words, Mars and Earth are closest then. Were there sucha thing as space travel, new, costly, not thoroughly tested, theywould want to make each journey as brief as possible. Hence the sevenhundred and eighty days.
FIRST MAN: Not bad, chief. You got most of it.
THIRD MAN: No one ever said anything about space travel.
FIRST MAN: You think we'd broadcast it or something, stupid? It's partof a big, important scientific experiment, only we're the hamsters.
ALARIC ARKALION: Ridiculous. You're forgetting all about the Cold War.
FIRST MAN: He thinks we're fighting a war with the Martians. (Laughs)Orson Wells stuff, huh?
ALARIC ARKALION: With the Russians. The Russians. We developed Abombs. They developed A bombs. We came up with the H bomb. So didthey. We placed a station up in space, a fifth of the way to the moon.So did they. Then--nothing more about scientific developments. Forover twenty years. I ask you, doesn't it seem peculiar?
FIRST MAN: Peculiar, he says.
ALARIC ARKALION: Peculiar.
SECOND MAN: I wish my Congressman....
FIRST MAN: You and your Congressman. The way you talk, it was yourvote got him in office.
SECOND MAN: If only I could get out and talk to him.
ALARIC ARKALION: No one is permitted to leave.
FIRST MAN: Punishable by a prison term, the law says.
SECOND MAN. Oh yeah? Prison, shmision. Or else go on the NowhereJourney. Well, I don't see the difference.
FIRST MAN: So, go ahead. Try to escape.
SECOND MAN: (Looking at the guards) They got them all over. All over.I think our mail is censored.
ALARIC ARKALION: It is.
SECOND MAN: They better watch out. I'm losing my temper. I get violentwhen I lose my temper.
FIRST MAN: See? See how the guards are trembling.
SECOND MAN: Very funny. Maybe you didn't have a good job or something?Maybe you don't care. I care. I had a job with a future. Didn't paymuch, but a real blue chip future. So they send me to Nowhere.
FIRST MAN: You're not there yet.
SECOND MAN: Yeah, but I'm going.
THIRD MAN: If only they let you know when. My back is killing me. I'mwaiting to pull a sick act. Just waiting, that's all.
FIRST MAN: Go ahead and wait, a lot of good it will do you.
THIRD MAN: You mind your own business.
FIRST MAN: I am, doc. You brought the whole thing up.
SECOND MAN: He's looking for trouble.
THIRD MAN: He'll get it.
ALARIC ARKALION: We're going to be together a long time. A long time.Why don't you all relax?
SECOND MAN: You mind your own business.
FIRST MAN: Nuts, aren't they. They're nuts. A sick act, yet.
SECOND MAN: Look how it doesn't bother him. A failure, he was. I canjust see it. What does he care if he goes away forever and doesn'tcome back? One bread line is as good as another.
FIRST MAN: Ha-ha.
SECOND MAN: Yeah, well I mean it. Forever. We're going away,someplace--forever. We're not coming back, ever. No one comes back.It's for good, for keeps.
FIRST MAN: Tell it to your Congressman. Or maybe you want to pull asick act, too?
THIRD MAN: (Hits First Man, who, surprised, crashes back against atable and falls down) It isn't an act, damn you!
GUARD: All right, break it up. Come on, break it up....
ALARIC ARKALION: (To himself) I wish I saw that ten million dollarsalready--_if_ I ever get to see it.
* * * * *
They drove for hours through the fresh country air, feeling the windagainst their faces, listening to the roar their ground-jet made, allalone on the rimrock highway.
"Where are we going, Kit?"
"Search me. Just driving."
"I'm glad they let you come out this once. I don't know what theywould have done to me if they didn't. I had to see you this once. I--"
Temple smiled. He had absented himself without leave. It had beendifficult enough and he might yet be in a lot of hot water, but itwould be senseless to worry Stephanie. "It's just for a few hours," hesaid.
"Hours. When we want a whole lifetime. Kit. Oh, Kit--why don't we runaway? Just the two of us, someplace where they'll never find you. Icould be packed and ready and--"
"Don't talk like that. We can't."
"You want to go where they're sending you. You want to go."
"For God's sake, how can you talk like that? I don't want to goanyplace, except with you. But we can't run away, Steffy. I've got toface it, whatever it is."
"No you don't. It's noble to be patriotic, sure. It always was. Butthis is different, Kit. They don't ask for part of your life. Not fortwo years, or three, or a gamble because maybe you won't ever comeback. They ask for all of you, for the rest of your life, forever, andthey don't even tell you why. Kit, don't go! We'll hide someplace andget married and--"
"And nothing." Temple stopped the ground-jet, climbed out, opened thedoor for Stephanie. "Don't you see? There's no place to hide. Whereveryou go, they'd look. You wouldn't want to spend the rest of your liferunning, Steffy. Not with me or anyone else."
"I would. I would!"
"Know what would happen after a few years? We'd hate each other. You'dlook at me and say 'I wouldn't be hiding like this, except for you.I'm young and--'"
"Kit, that's cruel! I would not."
"Yes, you would. Steffy, I--" A lump rose in his throat. He'd tell hergoodbye, permanently. He had to do it that way, did not want her towait endlessly and hopelessly for a return that would not materialize."I didn't get permission to leave, Steffy." He hadn't meant to tellher that, but suddenly it seemed an easy way to break into goodbye.
"What do you mean? No--you didn't...."
"I had to see you. What can they do, send me for longer than forever?"
"Then you do want to run away with me!"
"Steffy, no. When I leave you tonight, Steffy, it's for good. That'sit. The last of Kit Temple. Stop thinking about me. I don't exist.I--never was." It sounded ridiculous, even to him.
"Kit, I love you. I love you. How can I forget you?"
"It's happened before. It will happen again." That hurt, too. He wastalking about a couple of statistics, not about himself and Stephanie.
"We're different, Kit. I'll love you forever. And--Kit ... I knowyou'll come back to me. I'll wait, Kit. We're different. You'll comeback."
"How many people do you think said _that_ before?"
"You don't want to come back, even if you could. You're not thinkingof us at all. You're thinking of your brother."
"You know that isn't true. Sometimes I wonder about Jase, sure. But ifI thought there was a chance to return--I'm a selfish cuss, Steffy. IfI thought there was a chance, you know I'd want you all for myself.I'd brand you, and that's the truth."
"You do love me!"
"I loved you, Steffy. Kit Temple loved you."
"Loved?"
"Loved. Past tense. When I leave tonight, it's as if I don't existanymore. As if I never existed. It's got to be that way, Steffy. Inthirty years, no one ever returned."
"Including your brother, Jase. So now you want to find him. What do Icount for? What...."
"This going wasn't my idea. I wanted to stay with you. I wanted tomarry you. I can't now. None of it. Forget me, Steffy. Forget you everknew me. Jase said that to our folks before he was taken." Almost fiveyears before Jason Temple had been selected for the Nowhere Journey.He'd been young, though older than his brother Kit. Young, unattached,almost cheerful he was. Naturally, they never saw him again.
"Hold me, Kit. I'm sorry ... carrying on like this."
They had walked some distance from the ground-jet, through scrub oakand bramble bushes. They found a clearing, fragrant-scented,soft-floored still from last autumn, melodic with the chirping ofnameless birds. They sat, not talking. Stephanie wore a gay summerdress, full-skirted, cut deep beneath the throat. She swayed towardhim from the waist, nestled her head on his shoulder. He could smellthe soft, sweet fragrance of her hair, of the skin at the nape of herneck. "If you want to say goodbye...." she said.
"Stop it," he told her.
"If you want to say goodbye...."
Her head rolled against his chest. She turned, cradled herself in hisarms, smiled up at him, squirmed some more and had her head pillowedon his lap. She smiled tremulously, misty-eyed. Her lips parted.
He bent and kissed her, knowing it was all wrong. This was notgoodbye, not the way he wanted it. Quickly, definitely, for once andall. With a tear, perhaps, a lot of tears. But permanent goodbye. Thiswas all wrong. The whole idea was to be business-like, objective. Ithad to be done that way, or no way at all. Briefly, he regrettedleaving the encampment.
This wasn't goodbye the way he wanted it. The way it had to be. Thiswas _auf weidersen_.
And then he forgot everything but Stephanie....
* * * * *
"I am Alaric Arkalion III," said the extremely young-looking man withthe old, wise eyes.
How incongruous, Temple thought. The eyes look almost middle-aged. Therest of him--a boy.
"Something tells me we'll be seeing a lot of each other," Arkalionwent on. The voice was that of an older man, too, belying the youthfulcomplexion, the almost childish features, the soft fuzz of a beard.
"I'm Kit Temple," said Temple, extending his hand. "Arkalion, astrange name. I know it from somewhere.... Say! Aren't you--don't youhave something to do with carpets or something?"
"Here and now, no. I am a number. A-92-6417. But my father is--perhapsI had better say was--my father is Alaric Arkalion II. Yes, that isright, the carpet king."
"I'll be darned," said Temple.
"Why?"
"Well," Temple laughed. "I never met a billionaire before."
"Here I am not a billionaire, nor will I ever be one again. A-92-6417,a number. On his way to Mars with a bunch of other numbers."
"Mars? You sound sure of yourself."
"Reasonably. Ah, it is a pleasure to talk with a gentleman. I amreasonably certain it will be Mars."
Temple nodded in agreement. "That's what the Sunday supplements say,all right."
"And doubtless you have observed no one denies it."
"But what on Earth do we want on Mars?"
"That in itself is a contradiction," laughed Arkalion. "We'll findout, though, Temple."
They had reached the head of the line, found themselves entering ahuge, double-decker jet-transport. They found two seats together,followed the instructions printed at the head of the aisle bystrapping themselves in and not smoking. Talking all around them wassubdued.
"Contrariness has given way to fear," Arkalion observed. "You shouldhave seen them the last few days, waiting around the induction center,a two-ton chip on each shoulder. Say, where _were_ you?"
"I--what do you mean?"
"I didn't see you until last evening. Suddenly, you were here."
"Did anyone else miss me?"
"But I remember you the first day."
"Did anyone else miss me? Any of the officials?"
"No. Not that I know of."
"Then I was here," Temple said, very seriously.
Arkalion smiled. "By George, of course. Then you were here. Temple,we'll get along fine."
Temple said that was swell.
"Anyway, we'd better. Forever is a long time."
Three minutes later, the jet took off and soared on eager wings towardthe setting sun.
* * * * *
"Men, since we are leaving here in a few hours and since there is noway to get out of the encampment and no place to go over the deserteven if you could," the microphone in the great, empty hall boomed asthe two files of men marched in, "there is no harm in telling youwhere you are. From this point, in a limited sense, you shall be keptabreast of your progress.
"We are in White Sands, New Mexico."
"The Garden Spot of the Universe!" someone shouted derisively,remembering the bleak hot desert and jagged mountain peaks as theycame down.
"White Sands," muttered Arkalion. "It looks like space travel now,doesn't it, Kit."
Temple shrugged. "Why?"
"White sands was the center of experiments in rocketry decades ago,when people still talked about those things. Then, for a long time, noone heard anything about White Sands. The rockets grew here, Kit."
"I can readily see why. You could look all your life without finding abarren spot like this."
"Precisely. Someone once called this place--or was it some other placelike it?--someone once called it a good place to throw old razorblades. If people still used razor blades."
The microphone blared again, after the several hundred men had enteredthe great hall and milled about among the echoes. Temple could pictureother halls like this, other briefings. "Men, whenever you are giveninstructions, in here or elsewhere, obey them instantly. Our job is abig one, complicated and exacting. Attention to detail will save ustrouble."
Someone said, "My old man served a hitch in the army, back in thesixties. That's what he always said, attention to details. The army iscrazy about things like that. Are we in the army or something?"
"This is not the army, but the function is similar," barked themicrophone. "Do as you are told and you will get along."
Stirrings in the crowd. Mutterings. Temple gaped. Microphone, yes--butreceivers also, placed strategically, all around the hall, to pick upsound. Telio receivers too, perhaps? It made him feel something like agoldfish.
Apparently someone liked the idea of the two-way microphones. "I got aquestion. When are we coming back?"
Laughter. Hooting. Catcalls.
br /> Blared the microphone: "There is a rotation system in operation, men.When it is feasible, men will be rotated."
"Yeah, in thirty years it ain't been whatsiz--feasible--once!"
"That, unfortunately, is correct. When the situation permits, we willrotate you home."
"From where? Where are we going?"
"At least tell us that."
"Where?"
"How about that?"
There was a pause, then the microphone barked: "I don't know theanswer to that question. You won't believe me, but it is the truth. Noone knows where you are going. No one. Except the people who arealready there."
More catcalls.
"That doesn't make sense," Arkalion whispered. "If it's space travel,the pilots would know, wouldn't they?"
"Automatic?" Temple suggested.
"I doubt it. Space travel must still be new, even if it has thirty yearsunder its belt. If that man speaks the truth--if no one knows ... justwhere in the universe _are_ we going?"