“Pull his hair again, then give him a hand with his clothes,” said Peron. “See if you can find anything big enough. Kallen’s next, but I bet he’ll be easier. Rosanne told me Lum sleeps like a dead man, even under normal conditions.” In a few more minutes Rosanne and Kallen had been brought back to groggy wakefulness. Peron left them sighing and shivering and searching for warm clothes. Sy was processed last of all. He went instantly from sleep to full attention. Even as his eyes popped open he was twisting sideways like a cat, moving his body to a defensive posture.
“Relax,” said Peron. “You’re with friends.”
Sy gave Peron one brief, incredulous look, then stared around him. “Where am I? Last thing I remember we were in the Whirlygig dome. What happened?” “That’s a long story. Get some clothes on, and follow me. I’ll explain as we go.”
Peron led them to the dining room, where Ferranti and the others were finally showing signs of movement. Garao was halfway to the door, one foot clear of the floor.
“I wanted each of you to see this to save arguments,” said Peron. “Or you might have told me I was chewing dillason weed. Fourteen hours ago I was in that condition. That’s S-space. Remember how much we were troubled by the idea that the Immortals could travel to the stars in days?”
“I still don’t believe it,” said Sy. “They can’t exceed light-speed.” “You’re right — but you’re wrong, too. Here’s a question for all of you. How far does light travel in one second, or in one year?”
There was a brief silence.
“We all know the answer to that,” said Rosanne. “So I assume it’s a trick question.”
“In a way,” said Peron. “The answer depends on your definition of a second and a year. We’ve been thinking about S-space all wrong. It’s not some sort of parallel universe, or hyperspace. It’s the same space we live in, but S-space is a state of changed perception. If you want proof, look at these people.” Kallen had been watching Olivia Ferranti very closely. “She seems to be unconscious,” he said softly. “And her skin is cold. But her eyes are open. They’re alive, that’s clear. Are they hibernating?”
“No. Each of them is fully conscious. In that condition you feel normal except for a few subtle differences. But their metabolisms have been drastically slowed — two thousand times slower than usual. That’s S-space, and it changes your perception of everything. In one of our seconds, light travels three hundred thousand kilometers. In one of theirs, it travels six hundred million kilometers. To us, Sol is eighteen light-years away. To them, it’s only a little more than three light-days. That’s why we heard that the Immortals can travel between the stars in days — their days. Time passes so slowly for them that what feels like a day to us they experience as less than a minute.”
Peron went close to Garao and passed his hand slowly in front of the other’s face. “See? They don’t even know we’re here.” He moved over to the stationary figure of Atiyah, removed the belt from around the man’s tubby middle, and looped it around Olivia Ferranti’s neck. “In about twenty minutes he’ll notice that his belt is missing. In another hour of our time he’ll begin to wonder where it went. It will be an hour more before he can do anything to get it back.”
The others made their own inspections, touching skin and fingering hair. “How did they get this way?” asked Lum.
“The same way that I did, when Wilmer operated on me back on Whirlygig. I know that’s not much of an answer, but it’s the best one I can give you. There has to be a complicated treatment, but it must be fairly standardized — and it’s fully reversible. I’ve been both ways, and so has Captain Rinker. He had to go back to normal living to fix a mechanical problem with this ship. Let’s take a look at the ship now. We’ll all need that information later.”
Peron led the way back through to the suspense room. As they went he responded to their torrent of questions. The ship they were travelling on was deep in interstellar space, heading for the headquarters of the Immortals. That headquarters was far from any sun or planet, a full light-year away from the Cass system. They were moving at only a fraction of light-speed — probably no more than a tenth. During their journey, nearly ten years would pass back on Pentecost.
The other Planetfest winners were not on board. Their fate could only be conjectured, but Peron thought they were all still back in the Cass system, probably living on The Ship. That was where the Immortals lived in the Cass system. The other winners would probably become Immortals themselves after some kind of indoctrination. They would prefer to live in S-space for the longer subjective life span it offered, and they would return to normal life, as Wilmer had done, only for special duties.
“How long does an Immortal live?” asked Sy. “It’s obvious that nobody can be truly immortal.”
“Seventeen hundred years.”
There was another long silence. Finally Elissa said: “You mean seventeen hundred subjective years? That’s two thousand times seventeen hundred ordinary years back on Pentecost — three million four hundred thousand. They live three million four hundred thousand years!”
“Right,” said Peron cheerfully. Adjusting to that idea hadn’t been easy, and he was glad to see that others had the same reaction. “Of course, that’s only a conjecture. As Dr. Ferranti pointed out, they can only make estimates of full life span — because no one has lived it yet. It’s only twenty thousand years or so since we left Earth, and no one was living in S-space there.”
“But what about side effects?” said Elissa. “When you make such a profound change…”
“I only know of a couple,” said Peron. He brushed his hand through his hair. “See? It has stopped growing, and I think I was starting to lose it in S-space. Better get ready to lose those beautiful locks, Rosanne. I think that when you change metabolic rates for a while you become hairless. That’s what happened to Wilmer, and the other contestant Kallen met. Back on Whirlygig I couldn’t believe it when Wilmer told me that he had been in trouble there three hundred years before. But it makes sense now. That was just a few months in S-space. He was living there until he was with us in the ‘Fest. A hundred years on Pentecost would be only a few weeks for him.”
“That would explain why we only saw videos of former winners,” said Lum. “They didn’t come back to Pentecost. But there’d be no problem with videos. They could take them at S-space speed, then speed them up so they’d look normal. Personal appearances would be impossible unless they had moved back to normal time — N-space, you called it.”
“And they’ll be reluctant to do that,” said Peron. “They lose the benefit of extended life expectancy when they leave S-space. You have to eat special food there, and you don’t feel quite normal. But people will put up with a lot to increase their subjective life span by a factor of twenty.”
They were again in the suspense chamber. Peron led them into and through one of the caskets, using it as a convenient path to the other parts of the ship. There was a substantial temperature change as they passed through the suspense tank, and they all loosened their warm clothing.
“I’ll tell you one thing I still don’t understand,” Peron said. “When I was in S-space, I felt as though I was in a one-gee environment. Now we’re in exactly the same part of the ship, but we’re in freefall. I don’t see how that can happen.”
There was silence for a while, then Kallen made a little coughing noise. “T-squared effect,” he said softly.
“What?”
“He’s quite right,” Sy said calmly. “Good for you, Kallen. Don’t you see what he’s saying? Accelerations involve the square of the time — distance per second per second. Change the definition of a second, and of course you change the perceived speed. That’s why they can travel light-years in what they regard as a few days. But you change perceived acceleration, too — and you change that even more. By the square of the relative time rates — “