Lars thought that over. “But they aren’t afraid of us!” he protested. “I mean you and me. Or at least, if they are, they hide it pretty well. This gets crazier and crazier every minute, and we always seem to slam up against the same brick walclass="underline" * exactly what is so special about you and me?”
But they had no answer to that question. Food had appeared as they were talking, and they settled down glumly to eat. “They’ll be coming to give you your first lesson when we’re finished,” Peter said. “Maybe you’ll have some brilliant ideas along the way. I sure haven’t had any.”
“But there’s nothing—” Lars protested.
“There has to be something that’s important to them that we just can’t see,” said Peter. “But what it could be is beyond me. I hate to admit that I’m whipped, but I’ve got no choice on this one.”
“There’s only one thing,” Lars said.
Peter stopped with his food halfway to his mouth. “What?”
“Oh, nothing,” Lars muttered in disgust. “We’re different from the rest of the crew in one way, but I don’t see how it could make much difference.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Our ages,” said Lars. “It’s the only imaginable thing that could distinguish us from the rest of the crewmen in the eyes of these strangers, that could make us any different from Commander Fox, or Lambert, or Salter, or any of the others.”
“You mean—”
“Yes,” said Lars. “Both of us are young.”
Chapter Thirteen
It was so obvious, and yet so ridiculous, that they both burst into gales of laughter. It had been there staring them in the face from the first, yet it made no sense at all.
“But it’s true,” Lars said flushing. “We’re both just eighteen. The next youngest man on the crew is Mangano, and he’s twenty-six.”
“Maybe they figure we’ll be the tenderest for roasting,” said Peter.
“Well, why not?”
“It doesn’t add up to anything, that’s why,” said Peter.
“Neither does anything else around this place to us. But obviously it adds up to the City-people, or they woldn’t make a distinction like this. What other difference can you suggest?” Lars rose from the meal and walked over to the window, stared out across the city. The sky was dark now, but the bright lights of the buildings made it seem like daylight outside. “The way I see it, we’ve been tripping over everything in sight, and losing track of the one thing that we’ve just got to remember: that there are answers to this whole business. There must be answers, simple answers. We can’t see how, but somehow the pieces must fit together.”
“I wonder,” said Peter sourly.
“Look, we’ll think of something. Can you brief me on these lessons a little bit?”
“Why not ask your tutors?” Peter said. “Here they are now.”
The woman and one of the men who had met Lars at the gate had suddenly appeared at the door to their quarters. It was the first Lars had seen of them since he had arrived, but now he felt a much different kind of apprehension than he had then. At least, he thought, I’m rested and fresh now. They won’t catch me off guard.
They picked it up, and glanced gravely at each other. The woman shook her head. We are glad you are rested hut you must not fight us. There is much you must learn.
What must I learn? Lars shot at them.
We must teach you what the Masters taught us, of course. She shook her head again, cutting off the question rising to his lips. Come. We will work out here.
It was the strangest kind of lesson Lars had ever had in his life. They placed him before one of the gray viewscreens, but they did not activate it at first. Almost at once he felt their probing thought-fingers in his mind. First you must understand that there is no harm, no pain. We will not hurt you. It was the woman, who seemed to have taken charge, with the man merely observing.
Lars felt his muscles grow tense. What are you going to do?
There is nothing we can do but enter your mind and guide you. It is you who must do the work. She was gentle, but Lars could sense the unyielding firmness behind the gentleness.
What work? What do you want me to do?
The City-people looked at each other helplessly. Lars caught a drift of thought from the woman: He doesn’t understand. How can we—
There must be a way, somehow.
When the thoughts were not directed at him, Lars received only a drift; but when they addressed him directly he understood them faultlessly. He realized with a start that he was almost getting used to this silent communication. It was like conversing with a deaf-mute .boy he had known years before. The lad could read lips, but could not hear a sound. It had not taken Lars long to learn to speak to him soundlessly, forming his words carefully with his lips only. And now, similarly, he was forming his words in thoughts only.
The City-people had turned to him once again, and this time he felt a shock as they probed deeply, searching the farthest reaches of his mind. He had an eerie feeling, almost like nausea, for a moment; it was like the first downward lurch of an elevator, or the initial shock of free-fall in space, not exactly unpleasant, yet unsettling. But now, suddenly he noticed that the viewscreen was glowing faintly! The City-people glanced at each other excitedly, urging him on, but his mind rebelled. He felt himself jerk up like a tightly-reined horse.
No, no! It was the woman, urgent, appealing. Let yourself go.
He relaxed for a moment, felt himself breaking free of control again, but this time he was prepared and reined himself in sharply, fighting down the weird sensation.
No, no, please. You must help us, not fight us.
But I don’t like it. I cant let myself go. Lars felt the half-nausea again, and it seemed as though his whole body was drained of strength. I don’t like it.
But there is no harm.
I still don’t like it. Lars felt trapped, helpless against the power of these two minds. What are you trying to do? What is the purpose of this?
Amazement from the woman, as though he had suddenly slapped her face. To teach you, of course. We don’t want to frighten you.
Teach me what?
It was full circle again. The woman and man exchanged
grim glances. The same as with the other one. Blocking, fighting, trying his best to avoid—
It frightens him. This from the woman. Can it be that they don’t know?
They must know. They couldn’t help but know.
Once again Lars caught the impression of “the Masters” strong in the minds of the City-people. The impression of a very real entity, yet it took no recognizable shape in Lars’ mind. He groped, trying to catch the impression, but the woman shook her head. You are tired. That is enough for today. Tomorrow we will try again.
Wait! Lars jumped to his feet. There’s something I want to know.