Hugh had opened and closed his mouth several times during this speech. Finally he managed to get out: "Crazy? Did you say crazy?"
"Yes, I did. For a man to believe that the solid Ship can move means that he is either crazy, or an ignorant religious fanatic. Since both of you have the advantage of a scientist's training, I assume that you have lost your minds."
"Good Jordan!" said Hugh. "The man has seen with his own eyes, he's seen the immortal stars, yet he sits there and calls us crazy!"
"What's the meaning of this, Narby?" Ertz inquired coldly. "Why the razzle-dazzle? You aren't kidding anyone; you've been to the Control Room, you've been to the Captain's veranda, you know the Ship moves."
"You interest me, Ertz," commented Narby, looking him over. "I've wondered whether you were playing up to Hoyland's delusions, or were deluded yourself. Now I see that you are crazy too."
Ertz kept his temper. "Explain yourself. You've seen the Control Room; how can you contend that the Ship does not move?"
Narby smiled. "I thought you were a better engineer than you appear to be, Ertz. The Control Room is an enormous hoax. You know yourself that those lights are turned on and off by switches -- a very clever piece of engineering. My theory is that it was used to strike awe in the minds of the superstitious and make them believe in the ancient myths. But we don't need it any more, the Crew believe without it. It's a source of distraction now I'm going to have it destroyed and the door sealed up."
Hugh went all to pieces at this, sputtered incoherently, and would have grappled with Narby had not Ertz restrained him. "Easy, Hugh," he admonished. Joe-Jim took Hugh by the arm, his own faces stony masks.
Ertz went on quietly, "Suppose what you say is true. Suppose that the Main Converter and the Main Drive itself are nothing but dummies and that we can never start them, what about the Captain's veranda? You've seen the stars there, not just an engineered shadow show."
Narby laughed. "Ertz, you are stupider than I've guessed. I admit that the display in the veranda had me mystified at first, not that I ever believed in it! Then the Control Room gave the clue: it's an Illusion, a piece of skillful engineering. Behind that glass is another compartment, about the same size and unlighted. Against its darkness those tiny moving lights give the effect of a bottomless hole. It's essentially the same trick as they used in the Control Room.
"It's obvious," he went on. "I'm surprised that you did not see it. When an apparent fact runs contrary to logic and common sense, it's obvious that you have failed to interpret the fact correctly. The most obvious fact of nature is the reality of the Ship itself, solid, immutable, complete. Any so-called fact which appears to disprove that is bound to be an illusion. Knowing that, I looked for the trick behind the illusion and found it."
"Wait," said Ertz. "Do you mean that you have been on the other side of the glass in the Captain's veranda and seen these trick lights you talk about?"
"No," admitted Narby, "it wasn't necessary. Not that it wouldn't be easy enough to do so, but it isn't necessary. I don't have to cut myself to know that knives are sharp."
"So..." Ertz paused and thought a moment. "I'll strike a deal with you. If Hugh and I are crazy in our beliefs, no harm is done as long as we keep our mouths shut. We try to move the Ship. If we fail, we're wrong and you're right."
"The Captain does not bargain," Narby pointed out. "However, I'll consider it. That's all. You may go." Ertz turned to go, unsatisfied but checked for moment. He caught sight of Joe-Jim's faces, and turned back. "One more thing," he said. "What's this about the muties? Why are you shoving Joe-Jim around? He and his boys made you Captain; you've got to fair about this."
Narby's smiling superiority cracked for amoment.
"Don't interfere, Ertz! Groups of armed savages are not going to threaten this Ship!"
"You can do what you like with the prisoners," Jim stated, "but my own gang keep their knives. They were promised good eating forever if they fought for you. They keep their knives. And that's flnal!"
Narby looked him up and down. "Joe-Jim," he remarked, "I have long believed that the only good mutie was a dead mutie. You do much to confirm my opinion. It will interest you to know that, by this time, your gang is already disarmed, and dead in the bargain. That's why I sent for you!"
The guards piled in, whether by signal or previous arrangement it was impossible to say. Caught flatfooted, naked, weaponless, the five found themselves each with an armed man at his back before they could rally. "Take them away," ordered Narby.
Bobo whined and looked to Joe-Jim for guidance. Joe caught his eye. "Up, Bobo!"
The dwarf jumped straight for Joe-Jim's captor, careless of the knife at his back. Forced to split his attention, the man lost a vital half second. Joe-Jim kicked him in the stomach, and appropriated his blade.
Hugh was on the deck, deadlocked with his man, his fist clutched around the knife wrist. Joe-Jim thrust and the struggle ceased. The two-headed man looked around, saw a mixed pile-up of four bodies, Ertz, Alan, two others. Joe-Jim used his knife judiciously, being careful to match the faces with the bodies. Presently his men emerged. "Get their knives," he ordered superfluously.
His words were drowned by a high, agonized scream. Bobo, still without a knife, had resorted to his primal weapons. His late captor's face was a bloody mess, half bitten away.
"Get his knife," said Joe.
"Can't reach it," Bobo admitted guiltily. The reason was evident: the hilt protruded from Bobo's ribs, just below his right shoulder blade.
Joe-Jim examined it, touched it gently. It was stuck. "Can you walk?"
"Sure," grunted Bobo, and grimaced.
"Let it stay where it is. Alan! With me. Hugh and Bill, cover rear. Bobo In the middle."
"Where's Narby?" demanded Ertz, dabbing at a round on his cheekbone.
But Narby was gone, ducked out through the rear door behind his desk. And it was locked.
Clerks scattered before them in the outer office; Joe-Jim knifed the guard at the outer door while he was still raising his whistle. Hastily they retrieved their own weapons and added them to those they had seized. They fled upward.
Two decks above inhabited levels Bobo stumbled and fell. Joe-Jim picked him up. "Can you make it?" The dwarf nodded dumbly, blood on his lips. They climbed. Twenty decks or so higher it became evident that Bobo could no longer climb, though they had taken turns in boosting him from the rear. But weight was lessened appreciably at that level; Alan braced himself and picked up the solid form as if it were a child. They climbed. Joe-Jim relieved Alan. They climbed.
Ertz relieved Joe-Jim. Hugh relieved Ertz.
They reached the level on which they lived forward of their group apartments. Hugh turned in that direction. "Put him down," commanded Joe. "Where do you think you are going?"
Hugh settled the wounded man to the deck. "Homes. Where else?"
"Fool! That's where they will look for us first."
"Where do we go?"
"Nowhere, in the Ship. We go out of the Ship!"
"Huh?"
"The Ship's boat."
"He's right," agreed Ertz. "The whole Ship's against us, now."
"But... but--" Hugh surrendered. "It's a long chance -- but we'll try it." He started again in the direction of their homes.
"Hey!" shouted Jim. "Not that way."
"We have to get our women."
"To Huff with the women! You'll get caught. There's no time." But Ertz and Alan started off without question. "Oh, all right!" Jim snorted. "But hurry! I'll stay with Bobo" Joe-Jim turned his attention to the dwarf, gently rolled him to his side and made a careful examination. His skin was gray and damp; a long red stain ran down from his right shoulder. Bobo sighed bubblingly and rubbed his head against Joe-Jim's thigh. "Bobo tired, Boss."