A Million Little Pieces Of My Mind

Jewel-like stalked out onto the terrace where Dawn and Bradley were working. The young couple looked up and were amused by the flashing of her eyes; for Dawn knew her mother and Bradley by now had come to understand her frequent fits of pique. "What is the trouble, Jewel-like?" asked Bradley solicitously.

"You will be concerned, when you hear," the elderly woman said, though Bradley doubted it since he had noticed that, in truly upsetting situations, Jewel-like was not snappish but depressed, bordering on tears. "You are not the only ones who have been investigating the ruins of Old Shoorn," she said.

"We know that," Dawn answered. "I told you about the handprints on the healing device."

"That? That is nothing! I have proof!" She stared at them defiantly until Bradley finally asked what her "proof" was.

"I just tried to obtain from the computer some of the old records, the Non-Book sources of history that we have. Someone—the High Priest, undoubtedly—has put a block on the information. That roused my suspicions; so I encoded several other questions, on other subjects. Information on expeditions to anywhere is unavailable, as is information on most religious subjects. The only reply I get is, "This block is temporarily closed for maintenance.""

"Well, maybe they are," challenged Dawn doubtfully.

Bradley was more concerned on another tack. "If the blocks on religious information are closed, won't that interfere with the program Dot set up for the mind inductor?"

"What? Oh, no, of course not. The blocks aren't really closed for 'maintenance'—there's no such thing. And Dot will be approaching the subjects independently of the Home Information Units program. But don't you see? Any expedition or investigation made, at least official ones, are immediately recorded, along with findings, in the main computer banks at the Lod Zu. The fact that those blocks have been closed shows that they now contain information that the High Priest doesn't want us to know, information that must have been recently obtained; for the last time I used those blocks I had no problem. And where else could such information be obtained, but Old Shoorn?"

Jewel-like rattled on, but Bradley's mind was still on another tangent. The Egyptian spear had proven to Bradley that Marquette had materialized near him, as he had expected; but by appearing several feet below him, he had found himself in the ruins of Old Shoorn and not in the alley above. Perhaps he had had the strength to activate the device himself, or perhaps the expedition Jewel-like was hypothesizing had done it. Either way, Marquette had recovered from a spear wound well enough to face worshippers. But, perhaps he wasn't up to questions—and that was why the Religion block was closed! So no one could look up esoteric answers.

But, another problem...and a fear. If there had been one expedition in Old Shoorn, there could be another...and Dot and Thick Neck were in those ruins at that very moment, while Bradley awaited their signal in Dawn's apartment. If they should encounter anyone...

Utilizing a combination of commercially available city maps and the charts drawn up by Bradley and Dawn, the "Secret Four" (as Dawn had dubbed them) converged on the wall that separated Old Shoorn from the Lod Zu's computer banks.

Stealthily, because they were performing a stealthy deed, Dot and Thick Neck made their way through the gloom of the ruins of Old Shoorn, illuminated only by the light-globe Dot carried. They could hear only the echoes of their footsteps and the sound of water dripping from the street above to the thousands-year-old floor below. They were walking on what had once been a street, a wide place with broken fountains and formerly open-air restaurants. Dot tried to imagine the sun shining on the pavement, smiling people eating at the restaurants, children sailing paper boats in the fountains. It had been evening when the bombs hit, the restaurants, theatres and sports arenas crowded. How the crowds must have panicked when the explosions began! The panic must have been worse than the bombs. Dot closed her eyes to shut out the scene; when she reopened them all she could see was the funereal peace of a long-dead city.

Abruptly, Thick Neck stopped and Dot looked at him as he checked his watch. "Dot," he said, "we've got an hour and only a few blocks to go. Let's, uh, look inside some of these places."

"Is that wise?" questioned Dot, aware that her companion had something further in mind; but he had already entered a shop and she followed him.

What the place had been originally, Dot couldn't tell; there was a counter and shelves displaying transparent jars, but whatever the jars had once contained had long since turned to dust within them.

"Dot," Thick Neck said without looking at her, "I want to talk to you."

"Oh, not now, Neck!"

"Yes—now. You never have time at home, and you are too busy when you are at work. This is the first time that we have been together, alone, and with time, for months. I want to talk to you now."

Dot sighed. She knew Neck well enough to know that he hated to talk, and when he said he wanted to, it was about something very important to him. Further, she was sure she knew about what he wanted to talk. But she said nothing, letting her pause tell Neck for her that she would listen to what he had to say.

"I want to have sex with you."

Dot forced a laugh. "Now?!"

"No, of course not. At home. Sometimes, at least. It's been too long, Dot. And," he looked embarrassed, "I don't seem to want anyone else but you."

The tiny electronics expert felt herself blushing. The athlete and she had become married only a year before; against the usual custom they had decided to live together as well as to produce children together. Many young people had begun to do this, although most traditional parents disapproved. But Dot and Thick Neck had carried their aberration even further; although they had intended to, they never were able to find time to mate until the eve of their wedding—and then, too late, Dot had discovered that her husband's massiveness did not stop at his waist. Dot herself was so small that what should have been a night of ecstasy became a night of pain. Thick Neck had on occasion hinted that it was time for her to conceive his child; but she did love him and couldn't bring herself to tell him that he hurt her.

Her back to the door, she faced the man and prepared to say—she didn't know what. But she saw his expression change and his eyes look past her; and when she whirled around she was not altogether unrelieved to see two men in priests' robes, holding handguns leveled at them both.

Meanwhile, Randy and Fingers were descending by elevator to the computer rooms at the base of the Lod Zu. The lower parts of the building were heavily guarded because of their proximity to the street levels; and the only reason the two brothers had been able to get so close was that, at the moment, they looked exactly like High Priest Blessed and one of his aides. When the doors opened, "Blessed" followed his assistant into the computer room where they paused at the guard's station.

"Bless you, Holy One," saluted the guard. "By your orders, I am to allow no one, including yourself, into this area."

"Well, my son, I am rescinding those orders," Fingers replied, trying to sound sanctimonious and nearly succeeding. Voices had never been the strong point of his impersonations. His brother stepped around the guard, pointing to a piece of equipment beyond him. The guard turned to keep Randy in his sight.

"Is that bank operating properly?" Randy was saying, but the guard never heard him; the moment he had turned away from Fingers that person had sunk his fingers deep into the guard's neck. Deftly he removed his robes and face mask while his brother sprayed self-hardening plastic over the unconscious guard's face. The new mask was dry by the time Fingers was ready for it and soon the elevator guard seemed to be leading a priest down the aisle between two banks of equipment.

Soon they approached another guard who saluted his fellow. "The Holy One wishes to be escorted to Section 159."

"Certainly, Sir." The new guide began to show Randy the way but was momentarily halted by Fingers.

"Wait—there is another priest who will be following momentarily. I left him guarding the elevator." Fingers ran back, pulled the priests' robes back on over the guard's uniform, ripped off the face mask and walked back to his brother.

"Bless you, Holy One," greeted the guard. "You are going to Section 159, also?"

"Yes, my son," Fingers replied. For two stage performers with no previous experience at subterfuge, this was going quite well! The brothers followed the guard in silence as they passed between the banks of clicking machinery. After several minutes' walking they reached the blank wall that separated the Lod Zu from Old Shoorn; the guard who had led them was unconscious before he hit the floor.

Randy pocketed the drugged handkerchief; his brother was already testing the wall with an electronic device supplied by Jewel-like. Soon the wall was marked and a portion of it smeared with an acid.

"Now we wait," Randy stated, "for Thick Neck to push an opening through the weakened wall." But minutes passed and nothing happened. Fingers began to pace, and he frequently pulled the watch out from his belt.

"Something has gone wrong. We'd better try to knock this out ourselves, before someone discovers the elevator guard unconscious and naked and starts hunting for us."

Randy nodded and the brothers hurled themselves at the wall. They could feel parts of it crumble beneath their weight but Thick Neck had brought the special equipment necessary to push the treated concrete out of the way. Finally Fingers staggered back, exhausted. "This is ridiculous," he said. "They are way behind schedule. I knew Dot should have come with us; she'd have had her part of the job done by now."

"But then she'd be stuck here, like we are—and she'd have even less chance of getting out the other way than we do. Not to mention getting in."

"Well, we'd better get out, anyway. If they do come along, they'll be able to crash in." They returned to the elevator and were just about to touch Fingers' light-globe to the control button when the door slid open of its own accord. Even as the crack appeared Fingers and Randy leaped aside, hoping to lose themselves among the banks of equipment. Separated from his brother, all Randy could do was run down one aisle and up another, while listening to the excited voices of the priests and/or guards who poured from the elevator. Unable to help his brother, who was captured almost immediately (or was it a trick, to flush him out?) Randy climbed up an equipment bay, intending to hide himself in the cable racks above. He crawled along several feet, hidden between the piles of cable and the ceiling, to a place where the cable spilled over the sides and lay as quietly and flatly as he could.

For a while he could hear running steps pass him by below, then tensed as he heard someone say that he was going to check the cable racks. He strained to locate the direction from which the voice had come, but was unable to.

Suddenly, three racks away, there appeared the back of someone's head. Randy hardly dared to breathe. Slowly the head turned around as the eyes in it scanned the rows and rows of cable. Unable to hide, Randy opened his eyes wide and let his jaw slack, hoping to look unconscious or dead. The trick worked. The guard climbed down only to reappear a moment later at Randy's side—but Randy was ready for him with the drugged handkerchief. A minute later Randy, disguised as the guard, was racing for the elevator. It was unguarded; apparently all available personnel were searching for him. He was able to activate the control, sending the elevator upward. As the door closed he opened the emergency exit panel in the ceiling and climbed through, closing the hatchway behind him. As he expected, the sound of the elevator door opening and closing had alerted the search party; they overrode his instructions and started the elevator down before it had risen two levels. He could hear their voices below him when they entered the empty elevator cab:

"It's empty!"

"A trick! He must have called the elevator, then run back among the equipment bays!"

"Or," a third voice added—a cultured voice, probably a priest's—"perhaps he is, even now, standing on top of this cab."

There was a silence, and Randy could feel the at-least three pairs of eyes burning a hole in the floor beneath him. Too late he realised that he had trapped himself. The cab was too close to the sides of the shaft for him to slip between; the next opening was no less than thirty feet overhead. There were no climbing handholds; the blocks that made up the shaft wall were bare save markings made by some workman: Stordak was here!

There was nothing that could help him but—Randy's eyes fell upon a crowbar someone had left on the cab roof. Probably it was there to pry open the escape hatch, but he intended to put it to another use. He lifted and hefted it, and decided that it would do.

On cue the hatch lid popped open and a head appeared...facing the other way. Randy pulled the lid the rest of the way up, cracked the man's skull with the crowbar, pushed the lid closed again, and barely missed the raygun blast that ripped through the roof of the cab.

"You fool!" cried the cultured voice from within. "What if you'd shot the cable? We'd be trapped down here! Just send the elevator to the top of the Lod Zu. The cab is pressurized, but the rapid change in air pressure will kill, or at least knock out, anyone on the roof." Randy was able to drop to his belly just as the cab began its dizzying ascent to the Church of the Highest Heavens, two miles overhead.

Bradley sat in Jewel-like's laboratory, head buried in hands in the classic position of despair. Dawn gazed out the window and Jewel-like continued to make adjustments to the mind-inductor she had completed hours before. Suddenly Bradley leapt to his feet.

"This is my fault!" he cried. "I've got to go to those people's help! If it's not too late already," he added bitterly. Jewel-like continued her work.

"You will stay right here," she snapped without pausing. "Your 'Secret Four' are good people, and reliable. They could call at any moment, and if you weren't here, all their work, and yours too, would have been in vain. So sit down."

Abruptly she cocked her head. They had been listening to a symphonic work supplied by the main computer; it was along this circuit that Dot had intended to use to transmit the new program to Jewel-like's mind inductor. The music had stopped and was replaced by the voice of the electronics expert.

"Jewel-like, the program is ready for the alien to receive. It will begin nine seconds after the tone." There was a beep from the hidden speakers, and Jewel-like motioned frantically for Bradley to seat himself in the prepared chaise lounge. She placed the device over Bradley's head; even as the Earthman closed his eyes he wondered why Dot had referred to him as "the alien", when she had been so polite to him before. On a world of continuously warring nations, the Kiri word for "alien" had rude connotations, even when applied to an interplanetary visitor.

Added to the unexpected and unexplained delay in sending the mind-inductor program to Jewel-like's lab, Bradley was about to ask for a delay until he could ease his apprehensions; he would have done so if the intense pain in his head had not driven him to unconsciousness first.