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Dunn opened his eyes on blackness. Nothing. He fought back a sudden surge of fear, using the breathing and concentration techniques he'd picked up from Myali. It's not the abyss, he rea.s.sured himself. Merely night. I've spent hours in this particular memory and now it's night.
He was lying on his back, his pack on the ground next to him. Sitting up, he pulled it to him, opened the flap, and began to dig for the matches. Have to grope around to find some wood, he thought. Must still be at the bottom of the ravine I fell into.
Suddenly he stopped, utterly still, a sense of awe dawning in his mind. "My G.o.d," he whispered out loud. "It's night, I'm completely surrounded by the dark and the forest, and I'm not terrified." Surprised, he tried to feel the state of near panic that had been his constant companion every since landing on Kensho. It was gone.
With a woof of amazement, he flopped on his back again, his hands behind his head. If he looked hard enough, he realized, he could see the dark patterns the leaves overhead made against the lighter background of the sky. Here and there a star slipped quickly between the gently stirring leaves.
He felt a thrill run through his body. I can deal with it. I can handle the night and the darkness and the forest. Oh, he admitted, as a rustling in the brush startled him, I'm still a little bit anxious. But not afraid anymore.
How about the darkness within? Can I handle that, too?
Cautiously, he reached in to find it.
Still there. But somehow, some way, it didn't seem as menacing. Hardly friendly, he granted as he pulled back toward the surface of his mind. But not as threatening as before.
He shivered with pleasure. I ... I feel different. Wonderful. Like a huge weight's been lifted off my back. How did it happen? he wondered. G.o.d, when I was talking to the Face, just before the Master came, I was nearly off the deep end.
The Master! Of course. That had to be it. Something he'd said must have made the difference.
Carefully he reviewed the Old man's words. Two things struck him as most significant. First, the Master claimed that being withdrew when you sought it. Second, that the darkness of the nothing pervaded everyone and everything. Or at least that seemed to be what he was saying when he declared that the abyss lay just beneath the surface of everyday existence.
If being retreats to concealedness when you look for it, he thought, it's no wonder I have such a hard time grasping the thing I pursue through my mind. And if the darkness is part of the order of things, if it isn't just something peculiar to me, then the fact I find it at my core is no cause for alarm.
The Master's last command suddenly shone brightly in his mind. "Then leap into the void and build firm foundations in the nothing." Could he do that? Could he chase the thing he sought right to the edge of the abyss and then leap, soaring through the darkness after it? Would he drop, lost and alone, forever?
Or would he somehow be able to build a firm foundation in the void itself?
What would he build on? He had no memory, no detailed sense of self. But was one necessary?Sure, he didn't have access to Dunn's experiences. He couldn't feel Dunn's past joys and sorrows. Yet still, he knew beyond any shadow of doubt, that he was Dunn, that he did exist.
How could he prove it? Well, for himself, it was enough that his body hurt like h.e.l.l. He chuckled.
And if n.o.body else would accept that proof, how about a good smack on the head from his imaginary fist? The idea pleased him immensely and he laughed out loud.
He sat up again and picked up the pack from where he'd dropped it. Don't need the matches, he decided. Just a little bit of food. Then maybe I can get some sleep. First Touch is still a long way off.
He ate in calm silence. Finishing, he lay back and once more began to think about what the Master had told him. Again and again he went over it, trying to wring the last shred of meaning from every word.
It wasn't until he was just dropping off to sleep that he realized he'd never talked to the Master, never met him, never even seen him. His final thoughts, full of warmth and grat.i.tude, were of Myali.
X.
The next morning, the spy prodded Dunn's mind to wake him. "We are falling behind schedule, Dunn.
Our ETA for First Touch is late tomorrow. But if you don't get up and get moving, we won't make it."
Dunn just rolled over. Huh, he thought Wearily, seems so real. Like he was outside instead of just in my head. Like that d.a.m.n Face. Like ...
"d.a.m.n it, on your feet!" The spy squeezed Dunn's mind slightly and the groggy man sat up with a yelp.
"Okay, okay. You don't have to get nasty about it!"
"Just do as you are told, Dunn. Review briefing. Mission."
Mechanically, he responded. "Proceed to First Touch. Gather information on state of preparedness of planetary defenses. Evaluate extent and character of possible resistance to a landing. Identify key leaders, especially those whose removal might cause disruption in the functioning of government. In particular, a.s.sa.s.sinate the Way-Farer."
"Good."
"Good?" Myali asked. "How can killing Kadir be considered good?"
"Evaluation indicates his removal will have a disorientating effect on the population and lessen resistance to landing. While he is not a commanding officer in the usual sense, the Way-Farer appears to be an important symbolic figure. His death will weaken enemy morale. Full evaluation and advancement of this objective to First Priority status awaits final confirmation based on actual contact." The spy sounded smug and Dunn felt like hitting him.
Myali just laughed. "The life or death of the Way-Farer won't have any effect on Kensho's will to resist. If anything it'll stiffen our resolve, since the act of a.s.sa.s.sination will reveal the true character of our enemy."
"The Way-Farer is the primary leadership symbol on this planet," the spy insisted stubbornly. "He is an authority figure, a-"
"Nonsense," Myali interrupted. "Father Kadir leads no one. Where would he lead us? Each must walk his own Way and walk it alone. The only thing Kadir can do is offer encouragement and help us when we stumble. But lead? Nonsense."
"In any military-political system, the leadership is the critical nexus of the structure. Destroy the leadership and the rest of the organization collapses and loses its will to continue fighting. The same is true of complex socioeconomic systems, though of course the character of the leaders changes. It is clear-"
"But Kensho isn't a military-political-socio-economic system!"
The spy hesitated for a fraction of a second. "It must be," came the tight conclusion. "Evaluation indicates-"
"Evaluation is wrong."
"That is not possible. Evaluation indicates-"
"Hey," Dunn interjected, "cut it out, will you?" He rubbed his temples with his fingertips, his facetwisted in pain. "This argument may be great fun for you two, but it's taking place in my head and it hurts.
Jeez," he muttered, "it all seems so real, so ...so outside my head. Maybe I'm going nuts, huh?"
"This is an aberration," the spy declared stiffly. "The pain is a reminder that you should not indulge in aberrations."
Myali's sympathy flowed through his mind, soothing him. "Sorry, Dunn. I guess he's hurting you if you don't behave?"
"Yeh. He hurts me. Must have been what all those early headaches were about." Dunn laughed grimly. "Guess I was an aberration from the very first."
"Is there any way to avoid the pain?"
He shrugged. "Do what I'm told. You know, conform to the conditioning. I guess the pain must be built in as a self-correcting device."
She was silent for a moment. "Do you suppose he could use that pain to force you to do something you didn't want to do?"
"Like what?"
"Like kill Kadir?"
Dunn considered. "Don't know," he finally admitted. "But I've got a feeling he's very strong. h.e.l.l, there's more of him, or of you for that matter, than there is of me. I'm the junior member of this team."
"But what if you tried-"
"This discussion is counterproductive and interferes with the mission. There has been entirely too much of this sort of deviation in the past. It has been tolerated because there was still hope you would achieve Integration and conduct yourself properly. We are now too close to the culmination of the mission to allow such aberrations to continue. They must cease at once."
Dunn felt sudden twisting pressure in his head and crushed his eyes closed against it. "Uhhhhh," he grunted in pain. "He's ... d.a.m.n ... strong ... Myali," he gasped out.
The agony grew in a swift, towering wave that broke over him, tumbling down, down into darkness.
But just before he blacked out, he heard her whisper, "Can't beat him at his own game. Have to switch the rules."
When he opened his eyes for the second time that morning, he was still sitting in the forest at the bottom of the ravine he had fallen into last night. It was a dreary day and a light rain was trickling down through the forest canopy. Gingerly, he tested his mind to see if the others were still there. "Myali?" he asked tentatively.
"I 'm here," came the m.u.f.fled reply. But the spy cut in short with another squeeze.
Dunn buried his head in his hands as the pain struck. When it pa.s.sed he looked up, his face contorted with anger. "d.a.m.n it," he shouted. "Stop that, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d! That hurts!"
"As long as you perform your designated function, it will not be necessary. But nothing can be allowed to interfere with the mission."
"How the h.e.l.l can talking to Myali interfere?"
"There is no Myali," came the curt reply.
"No Myali? But I ..."
"You have failed to properly integrate the memory patterns transferred to you from the captured native. Because of this failure-"
"Nuts. It's more than a memory pattern. Myali's a person. I know her. I ... I ..."
"The captured native is currently undergoing interrogation on board ship. There is no Myali."
Like a man wandering out of a fog, Dunn began to recognize the outlines of what had happened.
"Ship," he muttered. "Interrogation. Yen." He was quiet for several moments, a look of deep sadness filling his eyes. "Yen," he finally mumbled. "Yen. Just a memory pattern ...in my head."
Listlessly, he opened his pack and took out some food. Without speaking, he ate. Still silent, he repacked his gear and rose to leave. A quick look at the compa.s.s set him on the right course.
For several hours he trudged north-northeast through the gradually increasing rain. By noon, when he stopped to eat, it was pouring.
"Maybe I should hole up someplace until this eases off a little," he said to the air."No," the spy answered instantly. "We are behind schedule as it is. There must be no further delay."
"But he's soaked," protested Myali.
"That does not affect his ability to perform his function to any appreciable degree."
"It will if he gets sick."
"Sickness and wetness do not equate."
"No, of course not. But when he's wet, the water conducts away his body heat more rapidly than the air, and he'll definitely get chilled, which in turn may lower his resistance to disease."
"No negative effects would transpire within the time limit set for the accomplishment of the mission."
"Oh, swell," grumbled Dunn. 'Terrific. I might catch my death of foolishness. But not until after the mission, so it doesn't matter."
"Correct," the spy confirmed. "The fate of the agent upon the completion of the mission is irrelevant."
"You meant you don't care?" Myali asked.
"Correct."
The Face objected from a thicket. "That's a h.e.l.l of an att.i.tude."
"It is the only possible att.i.tude."
"But-" the Face began, only to have Dunn interrupt.
"Stop it, please!" His voice shook with something between fear and anger. "s.h.i.t," he muttered, bringing himself back under control, "it all seems so d.a.m.n real. Like you're all here. No me any more.
Just you. Or mostly you. So d.a.m.n real." He held his head for several minutes, calming his breathing, relaxing his tight muscles. "Better," he finally said, lifting his head. "Okay, spy, I won't hole up. But it's kind of hard walking in this rain. Cuts down my visibility. You got anything against my slowing the pace a little?"
"Only a little," the spy grudgingly granted.
Dunn rose. "You might put on the rain poncho in your pack," Myali offered. He shook his head.
"Why bother? I 'm already soaked. At least in the pack it helps keep my other gear dry."
He started off in the direction of the thicket from which the Face peered. "Still think you're Dunn, huh?" it asked as he approached.
He hesitated before answering. "This morning's sort of shaken my confidence a little. Maybe I'm losing my grip and that's why you and Myali and the spy seem so real. Maybe I'm going crazy. Maybe there really is no me. But..." he hesitated again, feeling momentarily confused. "But, d.a.m.n it, I still feel like Dunn!"
"Hmmmmmm," the Face mulled over this statement from a clump of fernlike plants. "I a.s.sume you 're using the word 'feel' here loosely to mean something like 'perceive internally'?"
Annoyance restored some of Dunn's confidence. "Huh! There you go again. You already did the whole 'perception' and 'continuity' bit with me yesterday. Look, Face, I'll grant you there are all kinds of discontinuities in existence. Even in my immediate perceptions. Even when perceiving myself. So what?
All that proves is that there are discontinuities. It doesn't disprove that there are continuities! Hey. I close my eyes, the world goes away. I open them, it's back. Proof of discontinuity or of continuity? Take your pick. Is the gla.s.s half empty or half full? A pretty little problem, but since I'm thirsty and have to live with whatever is in the gla.s.s, who cares?
"Listen, Face. Somebody's obviously been messing with my mind. These aren't my memories. I'm not the one in control. But there's something here, something conscious of not being something else. And although that something can doubt your existence even while talking with you, it can't doubt its own."
"Why?"
Dunn laughed harshly. "Because it's sopping wet, its feet hurt, and it's got one h.e.l.l of a headache."
The Face smiled condescendingly. "Cogito ergo sum."
"Don't believe I've met her," Dunn replied drily.