Subspace explorers, p.14
Subspace Explorers, page 14
So calm, so serene was the Great Soul's mind that he neither showed nor felt surprise, even at this almost incredible full meeting of minds. "You are very welcome, friends Andrew and Stella. You have now attained such heights, however, that I have little or nothing to give you and much to receive from you."
While the old Mahatma did get much more than he gave, the Adamses got enough new knowledge from him so that when they left India they no longer needed maps. Their linkage had a sureness and a dirigibility that not even the Destons were to match for many years.
From India they went to China, where they had a long and somewhat profitable interview with Li Hing Wong. Thence to Russia and Feodr Ilyowicz; where results were negligible.
"Andy, I never did like that man," Stella said, when the short and unsatisfactory interview was over. And on such contact as this I simply can't stand him. Secretive-sly-he wouldn't really open up at all-all take and no give-that is not the way a good psiontist should act."
"I noticed that; but the loss is really his. It made it impossible for us to give him anything... but that attitude is perhaps natural enough-his whole heritage is one of secretiveness. Where next, my dear?"
They went to Tibet and to the Gobi and to Wales and to Rome and to Central Africa and to Egypt and to various other places where ancient, unpublished lore was to be found. They sifted this lore and screened it; then, after having sent a detector web of thought throughout the space and subspace of half the galaxy, they found and locked minds with Carlyle and Barbara Deston.
"Do not be surprised, youngsters," the Adams duplex began.
"Huh?" Deston yelped. "Clear to hellangone out here? And in subspace besides?"
"Distance is no longer important. Neither is the nature of the environment. Moreover, we are about to visit you in person."
"Without a locus of familiarity? You can't."
"That is no longer necessary, either. Here we are." Seated side by side on a love-seat facing the Destons, the Adamses spoke the last three words aloud, in perfect unison.
Deston did not jump clear off of the davenport quite. "Out here into the middle of subspace and we're doing God-knows-how-many megaparsecs a minute relative to anything? So you've mastered absolute trams-spatial perception?"
"By no means. We have, however, been able to enlarge significantly our hyper-sphere of action. We have learned much."
"That's the understatement of the century. But before you try to teach us any such advanced stuff as that, there's something simple-that is, it should be simple that's been bothering me no end. You got a little time now, Doe?"
"Lots of it, Babe. Go ahead."
"Okay. Well, since I never got beyond calculus, and not very advanced calc at that, I don't know any more about high math than a pig does about Sunday. But you and I both know what we mean by plain, common, ordinary, every-day reality. We know what we mean when we say that matter exists. Check, to here?"
"In the sense in which you are using the terms 'reality' and 'matter', yes."
"Okay. Matter exists in plain, ordinary, three-dimensional space. Matter is composed of atoms. Therefore atoms must exist and must have reality in three-dimensional space. So why can't any atomic physicist tri-di a working model of an atom? One that will work? One that human eyes can watch work? So that the ordinary human mind can understand how and why it works?"
"That's rank over-simplification, my boy. Why, the very concept of subatomic phenomena and of subspace is so.. ."
"I know it is. That's exactly what I'm bitching about. Basically, nature is simple, and yet you Big Brains can't handle it except by inventing mathematics so horribly complex that it has no relationship at all to reality. You can't understand it yourselves. You don't-at least I'm pretty sure you don't-really understand-like I understand that chair there, I mean-time or subspace or space or anything else that's really fundamental. So do you mind if I stick my amateur neck 'way out and make a rank amateur's guess as to why and why not?"
"I'm listening, Babe, with my mind as well as my ears."
Barbara grinned suddenly. "Out of the mouths of babes -one Babe in this case-et cetera," she said.
"Okay, little squirt, that'll be enough out of you. Doc, I think there's one, and probably more than one, fundamental basic principle that nobody knows anything about yet. And that when you find them, and work out their laws, everything will snap into place so that even such a dumbster as I am will be able to see what the real score is. So you think I'm a squirrel food, don't you?"
"By no means. Many have had similar thoughts...." "I know that, too, but now we jump clear off the far end. Do you read science fiction?"
"Of course."
"You're familiar, then, with the triangle of electromagnetics, electro-gravitics, and magneto-gravitics. That's just a wild stab, of course, but one gets you a hundred that there's something, somewhere, that will tie everything up together-subspace, hunches, telekinetics, witches, and all that stuff."
Adams leaned forward eagerly. "Have you done any work on it?"
"Who, me? What with?" Deston laughed, but there was no trace of levity in the sound. "What would I be using for a brain? That's your department, Doc."
Adams smiled and started to say something, but broke off in the middle of a word. His smile vanished. He sat immobile, eyes unfocussed, for minute after minute. He sat there for so long that Deston, afraid to move, began to think that he had suffered some kind of a seizure.
Finally, however, Adams came out of his trance. He and Stella got up as one and, without a word, turned to leave the room.
"Hey!" Deston protested. "Wait up, Doc! What gives?" Adams licked his lips. "I can't tell you, Babe. I'd be the laughing-stock of the scientific world-especially since I can't conceive of any possible instrumentation to test it."
"After that, you've got to talk. So start."
"The trigger was your flat statement-axiomatic to you-that the atom exists in three dimensions. Since that alleged fact can not be demonstrated, it probably is not true. If it is not true, the reverse-the Occam's-Razor explanation-would almost have to he that space possesses at least four physical dimensions."
"Hell's... flaming .., afterburners..." Deston breathed.
"Exactly. The fact that this theory-to my knowledge, at least-has never been propounded seriously does not affect its validity. It explains every phenomena with which I am familiar and conflicts with none."
There was a long silence, which Deston broke. "Except one, maybe. According to that theory, psionic ability would be the ability to perceive and to work in the fourth physical dimension of space. Sometimes in time, too, maybe. But in that case, if anybody's got it why hasn't everybody? Can you explain that?"
"Quite easily. Best, perhaps, by analogy. You'll grant that to primitive man it was axiomatic that the Earth was flat? Two-dimensional?"
"Granted."
"That belief became untenable when it was proved conclusively that it was 'round'. At that point cosmology began. The Geocentric Theory was replaced by the Heliocentric. Then the Galactic. Where are we now? We don't know. Note, however, that with every advance in science the estimated size of the physical universe has increased."
"But what has that got to do with psionics?"
"I'm coming to that. While intelligence may not have increased very greatly over the centuries, mental ability certainly has. My thought is that the process of evolution has been, more and more frequently, activating certain hitherto-dormant portions of the brain; specifically, those portions responsible for the so-called 'supra-normal' abilities."
"Oh, brother! You really went out into the wild blue yonder after that one, professor."
"By no means. It may very well be that not all lines of heredity carry any of the genes necessary to form the required cells, even in the dormant state, and it is certain that there is a wide variation in the number and type of those cells. But have you ever really considered Lee Chaytor? Or George Wesley?"
"Just what everybody knows. They were empiricists -pure experimenters, like the early workers with electricity. They kept on trying until something worked. The theory hasn't all been worked out yet, is all."
" Everybody knows' something that, in all probability, simply is not true. I believed it myself until just now; but now I'm almost sure that I know what the truth is. They both were-they must have been-tremendously able psiontists. They did not publish the truth because there was no symbology in which they could publish it. There still is no such symbology. They concealed their supra-normal abilities throughout their lives because they did not want to be laughed at-or worse."
Deston thought for a minute. "That's really a bolus... what can we-any or all of us-do about it?"
"I'm not sure. Data insufficient-much more work must be done before that question can be answered. As we said, Stella and I have learned much, but almost nothing compared to what is yet to be learned. To that end-but it is long past bedtime. Shall all eight of us meet after breakfast and learn from each other?"
"It'll be a one-way street, professor," Deston said, "but thanks a million for the compliment, anyway. We shall indeed."
The Adamses left the room and Carlyle Deston stared unseeingly at the doorway through which they had passed.
And next morning after breakfast the four couples sat at a round table, holding hands in a circle.
Very little can be said about what actually went on. It cannot be told in either words or mathematics. There is no symbology except the esoteric jargon of the psiontist-as meaningless to the non-psionic mind as the proverbial "The gostak distims the doshes"-by the use of which such information can be transmitted.
Results, however, were enormous and startling; and it must be said here that not one of the eight had any suspicion then that the Adams fusion had any help in doing what it did. Andrew Adams' mind was admittedly the greatest of its time; combining with its perfect complement would enhance its power; everything that happened was strictly logical and only to be expected.
The physical results of one phase of the investigation, that into teleportation, can be described. Each pair of minds was different, of course. Each had abilities and powers that the others lacked; some of which were fully developable in the others, some only partially, some scarcely at all. Thus, when it came to the upper reaches of the Fourth Nume, even Adams was shocked at the power and scope and control that flared up instantly in the Trains' minds as soon as the doors were opened.
"Ah," Adams said, happily, "That explains why you would not start out without them."
"And how!" Deston agreed; and it did.
It is also explained why Cecily had always been, in Bernice's words, "such a sex-flaunting power-house." It accounted for Train's years of frustration and bafflement. At long, long last, they had found out what they were for.
"You two," Adams said, "have, among other things, a power of teleportation that is almost unbelievable. You could teleport, not merely yourselves, but this entire starship and all its contents, to any destination you please."
"They could, at that," Deston marveled. "Go ahead and do it, so Bobby and I can see how much of the technique we can learn."
"I'm afraid to." Cecily licked her lips. "Suppose we-I, my part of it, I mean-scatter our atoms all over total space?"
"We won't," Train said. Although he had not known it before, he was in fact the stronger of the two. "Give us a target, Babe. We'll hit it to a gnat's eyeball."
"Gahreetia. GalMet Tower. Plumb with the flagpole. One thousand point zero feet from the center of the ball to our center of gravity."
"Roger." The Trains stared into each other's eyes and their muscles set momentarily. "Check it for dex and line."
Deston whistled. "One thousand point zero zero feet and plumb to a split blonde hair. You win the mink-lined whatsits. Now back?"
"As we were, Sess," Train said, and the starship disappeared from Galmetia's atmosphere, to reappear instantaneously at the exact point it would have occupied in subspace if the trip had not been interrupted.
The meeting went on. There is no need to report any more of its results; in fact, nine tenths of those results could not be reported even if there were room.
An hour or so after the meeting was over, Adams sat at his desk, thinking; staring motionlessly at the sheet of paper upon which be had listed eighteen coincidences. He knew, with all his mathematician's mind, that coincidence had no place in reality; but there they were.
Not merely one or two, but eighteen of them... which made the probability a virtually absolute certainty.
There was an operator. The babies? Barbara? Of all the people he knew, they were... but why should it be anyone he knew, or any given one or thing in this or any other galaxy? There were no data. A mutant, hiding indetectably behind his own powers? An attractive idea, but there was no basis whatever for any assumption at all... anything to be both necessary and sufficient must of necessity be incomprehensible. Anything... anywhere... anywhere....
At this point in his cogitations Barbara knocked on his door and came in, with her mind-blocks full on. He knew what was on her mind; he had perceived it plainly during the wide-open eight-way they had just held. Nevertheless:
"Something is troubling you, my dear?"
"Yes." Barbara nibbled at her lip. "... it's just... well, are you positively sure, Uncle Andy, that the babies are... well..." She paused, wriggling in embarrassment.
"Normal? Of course I'm sure, child. Positive. I have a file four inches thick to prove it. Have you any grounds at all for suspecting that they may not be?"
"Put that way, no, I haven't. It's just that... well, once in a while I get a... a feeling . . . Indescribable..." she paused again.
"It is possible that there is an operator at work," he said, quietly. The girl's eyes widened, but she didn't say anything and he went on, "However, I can find no basis whatever for any assumption concerning such a phenomenon. It is much more logical, therefore, to assume that these new and inexplicable 'feelings' are in fact products of our newly enlarged minds, which we do not as yet fully understand."
"Oh?" she exclaimed. "You have them, too? You've been working on it? Watching it?"
"I have been and am working on it."
"Oh, wonderful! If there's anything to it, then, you'll get it!" She hugged him vigorously, kissed him on the ear, and ran out of the room.
Adams stared thoughtfully at the closed door. That let Barbara out-or did it? It did not. Nor did it put her in any deeper. The operator, if any, was supernormal; super-psionic. The problem was, by definition, insoluble; one more of the many mysteries of Nature that the mind of man could not yet solve. Therefore he would not waste any more time on it.
He shrugged his shoulders, crumpled the sheet of paper up into a ball, dropped the ball into his wastebasket, and went to work on a problem that he might be able to solve.
Chapter 13
THE OUTPLANETS
While no one knows when man first appeared upon Earth, it is generally agreed that it required many hundreds of thousands of years for the human population of Earth to reach the billion mark, which it probably did sometime in the eighteen twenties. In the next scant century, however, it doubled. In another seventy five or eighty years it doubled again, to four billions. Then, due to limitation of births in most cultures and to famine and pestilence in the few remaining backward ones, the rate of increase began to drop; and early in the twenty second century Earth's population seemed to be approaching seven billions as a limit.
Although cities had increased tremendously in size there was still much farmland, and every acre of it including the Sahara, irrigated by demineralized and remineralized water from the ocean-was cultivated and fertilized to the maximum possible constant yield. There were also vast hydroponics installations. Complete diet had been synthesized long since; hence Earthly fare for many years had been synthetic for most, vegetarian-and-synthetic for almost all of the upper twenty percent. Cow's milk and real meat were for millionaires only.
The dwindling of Earth's reserves of oil and coal had forced the price of hydrocarbons up to where it became profitable to work oil shale, and it was from the immense deposits of that material that most of Earth's oil was being produced. Very little of this oil, however, was being used as fuel; almost every ton of it was going into the insatiable conversion plants of the plastics and synthetics industries.
Of power, fortunately, there was no lack. It was available everywhere, at relatively low cost and in infinite amount.
Infinite? Well, not quite, perhaps. Inexhaustible, certainly. Also incalculable, since no two mathematicians ever agreed even approximately in estimating the total kinetic energy of the universe. And that super-genius Lee Chaytor, in developing the engine that still bears her name-the engine that taps that inexhaustible source of energy-gave to mankind one of the two greatest gifts it has ever received. The other, of course, was Wesley's Subspace Drive; by virtue of which man peopled the planets of the stars.
However, it was only the bold, the hardy, and the independent, and the discontented who went. Nor was there at first any such thing as Capital: the bankers of Earth were, then as now, highly allergic to risking their money in any venture less certain than a fifty-percent of-appraised-value first mortgage upon a practically sure thing. Hence everything was on shares.
Elbridge Warner, Barbara Deston's great-great-great and-so-on grandfather, a multi-millionaire oil man and a rabid anti-union capitalist, was the first big operator to go off-Earth. Following the "hunches" that had made him what he was, he hired a crew of the hardest, toughest, most intransigent men he could find and sniffed out a fantastically oil-rich planet, theretofore unknown to man. He named this planet "Newmars" and claimed it in toto as his own personal private property.
Then, having put down a tremendously productive well, he built and populated a balanced-economy colony. He then put down a few more gushers and built an arms plant and a couple of battleships, after which he: 1) Moved everything he owned that was movable from Earth to Newmars, and 2) Fired every union man in his employ. The United Oil Workers struck, of course, whereupon he made or stole-the record is not clear upon this point-some Chaytor superfusers and destroyed every Warner well on Earth. Destroyed them so thoroughly (everyone has seen a tri-di of what a superfuser does) that not one of them could be made to produce again for years, if ever. He then sat back on his wholly-owned, self-sufficient, fortified planet and waited.
