Lest We Forget Thee, Earth Page 4

  He handed the book to Helna. “Let’s go. Well see what the Oligocrat’s scientists can do with these faded pages.”

  V

  The small ship spiraled to a graceful landing on the massive planet.

  “This might well be Kariad,” Helna said. “I am used to the sight of double stars in the skies.”

  Directly overhead, the massive orb that was Fendobar burned brightly; further away, a dim dab of light indicated the location of the huge star’s companion.

  “Even this far away,” Navarre said, “it seems like home. The universe remains constant.”

  “And somewhere eleven light-years ahead of us lies Earth,” grunted Carso.

  They had traveled more than a billion light-years, an immensity so vast that even Helna’s personal cruiser, a warp-ship which was virtually instantaneous on stellar distances of a few thousand light-years, had required a solid week to make the journey.

  And now, where were they? Fendobar—a world left far behind out of the main currents of galactic history, a world orbiting a bright star in a galaxy known only as RGC18347. A world eleven light-years from Earth.

  The Oligocrat’s scientists had restored the missing coordinates as Helna had anticipated, and the three of them had said an abrupt good-bye to Kariad. They had swept out into space, into the subwarp and across the tideless seas of a billion light-years. They were driving back, back into humanity’s past, into Galaxy RGC 18347—the obscure galaxy from which mankind had sprung.

  They had narrowed the field. Navarre had never thought they would get this far.

  “We seek Earth, friend,” Navarre told the aged chieftain who came out supported by two young children to greet the arriving ship.

  “Earth? Earth? What be this?”

  The old man’s accents were strange and barely understandable. Navarre fumed. “This is Fendobar, isn’t it?”

  “Fendobar? The name of this world is Mundahl. I know no place called Fendobar.”

  Carso looked worried. “You don’t think we made some mistake, do you, Hallam? The coordinates in that old book-maybe they weren’t interpreted right. Maybe—”

  “We’ll see. Names change in thirty thousand years, don’t forget.” Navarre leaned close to the oldster. “Do you study the stars, old man?”

  “Not I. But there is a man in our village who does. He knows many strange things.”

  “Will you take us to him?” asked Navarre.

  The astronomer proved to be a withered old man who might have been the twin of the chieftain. The Earthmen entered his thatched hut and were surprised to see many shelves of books, tapes, and an unexpected, efficient-looking telescope.

  He tottered forward to greet them.

  “Yes?”

  “Bremoir, these people search for Earth. Know you the place?”

  A slow frown spread over the astronomer’s wrinkled face. “The name has a familiar sound to it. Let me search my charts.” He unrolled a thin, terribly fragile-looking sheet of paper covered with tiny marks.

  “Earth is the name of the planet,” Navarre said. “It revolves around a sun called Sol. We know that the system is some eleven light-years from here.”

  The ancient astronomer pored over his charts, scowling in concentration and scratching his leathery neck. After a while he glanced up.

  “There is indeed a sun-system at the distance you give. Nine planets revolve about a small yellow sun. But those names…?”

  “Earth was the planet’s name. Sol was the sun.”

  “Earth? Sol? There are no such names on my charts. The star’s name is Dubihsar.”

  “And the third planet?”

  “Velidoon.”

  Navarre looked away. Dubihsar. Velidoon. In thirty thousand years, names change.

  But could Earth forget its own name so soon?

  There was a yellow sun ahead. Navarre stared at it hungrily through the fore viewplate, letting its brightness burn into his eyes.

  “There it is,” he said. “Dubihsar. Sol.”

  “And the planets?” Carso asked.

  “There are nine.” Navarre peered at the crumbling book the old astronomer had found for him finally, after long hours of search and thought. The book with the forgotten names of the worlds. Navarre counted off: “Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, Jupiter, Saturn, Mars, Venus, Mercury. And Earth.”

  “Earth,” Helna said. “Soon we’ll be on Earth.”

  Navarre frowned broodingly. “I’m not so sure I actually want to land, now that we’ve found it. I know what Earth’s going to be like—just like Fendobar. It’s a dreadful thing when a world forgets its own name.”

  “Nonsense, Hallam!” Carso was jovial. “Earth is Earth, whether its people know it or not. We’ve come this far; let’s land, at least, before turning back. Who knows? We may even find the Chalice!”

  “The Chalice,” Navarre repeated quietly. “I had almost forgotten the Chalice.” Chuckling, he said, “Poor Joroiran will never forgive me if I return without it.”

  Nine planets. One spun in an eccentric orbit billions of miles from the small yellow star; three others were giant worlds, unlivable; a fifth, ringed with cosmic debris, was not yet solidified. A sixth was virtually lost in the blazing heat of the sun.

  There were three remaining worlds—Mars, Venus and Earth, according to the book. The small craft fixed its sights on the green world. Earth.

  Navarre was first from the ship; he sprang down the catwalk and stood in the bright warm sunlight, feet planted firmly in sprouting green shoots nudging up from brown soil. Carso and Helna followed, leaving the ship a moment later.

  “This is Earth,” Navarre said. “We’re probably the first from the main stream of galactic worlds to set foot here in thousands of years.” He squinted off into the dense thicket of trees that ringed them. Creatures were appearing.

  They looked like men—dwarfed, shrunken, twisted little men. They stood about four and a half feet tall, their feet bare, their middles swathed in hides. Yet despite their primitive appearance, in their faces could be- seen the unmistakable light of intelligence.

  “Behold our cousins,” Navarre murmured. “While we in the stars scrupulously kept our genes intact, they have become this.”

  Unafraid, the little men filed toward them, grouping themselves around the trio and their ship.

  “Where be you from, strangers?” asked a flaxen-haired dwarf, evidently the leader.

  “We are from the stars,” Carso said. “From the world of Torus, he and I, and the girl from Kariad. But this planet is our homeworld. Our remote ancestors were born on Earth.”

  “Earth? You mistake, strangers. This world be Velidoon, and we be its people. You look naught like us, unless ye be in enchantment.”

  “No enchantment,” Navarre said. “Our fathers lived on Velidoon when it was called Earth, many thousands of years past.”

  How can I tell them that we once ruled the universe? Navarre wondered. How can it he that these dwarfs are the sons of Earth?

  The flaxen-haired little man grinned and said, “What would you on Velidoon, then?”

  “We came merely to visit. We wished to see the world of our long-gone ancestors.”

  “Strange, to cross the sky merely to see a world. But come; let us take you to the village.”

  “In a mere hundred thousand years,” Helna murmured, as they walked through the forest’s dark glades. “From rulers of the universe to scrubby little dwarfs living in thatched huts.”

  “And they don’t even remember the name of Earth,” Carso added.

  “It isn’t surprising,” said Navarre. “Don’t forget that most of Earth’s best men were killed defending the planet, and the rest—our ancestors—were “scattered all over the universe. Evidently the conquerors just left the dregs on Earth itself, and this is what they’ve become.”

  They turned past a clear, fast-flowing brook and emerged into an open dell, in which could be seen a group of huts not unlike those on Fendobar.

  The y
ellow sun shone brightly and warmly; overhead, an arbor of colorful birds sang, and the forest looked fertile and young.

  “This is a pleasant world,” Helna said.

  “Yes. Life here has none of the strain and stress of our system. Perhaps,” Navarre suggested, “it’s best to live on a forgotten planet.”

  “Look,” Carso said. “Someone important is coming.”

  A procession advanced toward them, led by the little group who had found them in the forest. A wrinkled gray-beard, more twisted and bent than the rest, strode gravely toward them.

  “You be the men from the stars?”

  “I am Hallam Navarre, and these are Helna Winstin and Domrik Carso. We trace our ancestry from this world, many thousands of years ago.”

  “Hmm. Could be. I be Gluihn, leader of this tribe.” Gluihn stepped back and scrutinized the trio. “It might well be,” he said, studying them. “Yes, it could indeed. You say your remote fathers lived here?”

  “When the planet was called Earth, and ruled all the worlds of the skies.”

  “I know nothing of that. But you look much like the Sleepers, and perhaps you be of that breed. They have lain here many a year themselves.”

  “What Sleepers?” Navarre asked.

  “All in good time,” said Gluihn. He squinted at the sky. “It was a nice day for your coming here. The sky is good.”

  “What of these Sleepers?” Navarre demanded again.

  The old man shrugged. “They look to be of your size, though they lie down and are not easy to see behind their cloudy fluid. But they have slept for ages untold, and perhaps…”

  Gluihn’s voice trailed off. Navarre exchanged a sharp glance with his companions.

  “Tell us about these Sleepers,” Carso growled threateningly.

  Now the old man seemed frightened. “I know nothing more. Boys, playing, stumbled over them not long ago, buried in their place of rest. We think they be alive.”

  “Can you take us there?”

  “I suppose so,” Gluihn sighed. He gestured to the flaxen-haired one. “Llean, take these three to look at the Sleepers.”

  “Here we are,” the dwarf said.

  A stubby hill jutted up from the green-carpeted plain before them, and Navarre saw that a great rock had been rolled to one side, baring a cave-mouth.

  “Will we need lights?”

  “No,” said Llean. “It is lit inside. Go ahead in; I’ll wait here. I care little to have a second look to see what lies in there.”

  Helna touched Navarre’s arm. “Should we trust him?”

  “Not completely. Domrik, stay here with this Llean and keep an eye on him. In case you hear us cry out, come running, and bring him with you.”

  Carso grinned. “Right.”

  Navarre took Helna’s hand and hesitantly they stepped within the cave-mouth. It was like entering the gateway to some other world.

  The cave’s walls were bright with some form of electroluminescence, glowing lambently despite the fact that there was no visible light-source. The path of the light continued straight for some twenty yards, then snaked away at a sharp angle beyond which nothing could be seen.

  Navarre and Helna reached the bend in the corridor and turned. A metal plaque of some sort was the first object their eyes met.

  “Can you read it?” she asked.

  “It’s in an ancient language—no, it isn’t at all. It’s Galactic, but a terribly archaic form.” He blew away the dust and rapidly scanned the inscription. He whistled.

  “What does it say?”

  “Listen:

  ” Within this crypt lie ten thousand men and women, placed here to sleep in the two thousandth year of Earth’s galactic supremacy and the last year of that supremacy.

  ” ‘Each of the ten thousand is a volunteer. Each has been chosen from the group of more than ten million volunteers for this project on a basis of physical condition, genetic background, intelligence, and adaptability to a varying environment.

  ” ‘Earth’s empire has fallen, and within weeks Earth herself will go under. But, regardless of what fate befalls us, the ten thousand sealed in this crypt will slumber on into the years to come, until such time as it will be possible for them to be awakened.

  ” ‘To the finder of this crypt: the chambers may be opened simply by pulling the lever at the left of each sleeper. None of the crypts will open before ten thousand years have elapsed. The sleepers will lie here in this tunnel until the time for their release, and then will come spilling out as wine from a chalice, to restore the ways of doomed Earth and bring glory to the sons of tomorrow.’”

  Navarre and Helna remained frozen for an instant after the final echoing words died away. In a hushed whisper he said, “Do you know what this is?”

  She nodded. ” As wine from a chalice…* ” . “Beneath all the legends, beneath the shroud of myth-there was a Chalice,” Navarre said fiercely. “A Chalice holding immortal life—sleepers who would sleep for all eternity if no one woke them. And when they were awakened—eternal life for doomed Earth.’”

  “Shall we wake them now?” Helna asked.

  “Let’s get Carso. Let him be with us.”

  The half-breed responded to Navarre’s call and appeared, dragging the protesting Llean with him.

  “Let the dwarf go,” Navarre said. “Then read this plaque.”

  Carso released the squealing Llean, who promptly dashed for freedom. When the half-breed had read the plaque, he turned gravely to Navarre.

  “It seems we’ve found the Chalice after all!”

  “It seems that way,” Navarre said.

  He led the way and they penetrated deeper into the crypt. After about a hundred yards he stopped. “Look.”

  A wall had been cut in one side of the cave and a sheet of some massively thick plastic inserted as a window. And behind the window, floating easily in a cloudy solution of some gray-blue liquid, was a sleeping woman. Her eyes were closed, but her breasts rose and fell in a slow, even rhythm. Her hair was long and flowing; otherwise, she was similar to any of the three watchers.

  A lever of some gleaming metal projected about half a foot from the wall near her head. Carso reached for it, fingering the smooth metal questioningly. “Should we wake her up?”

  “Not yet. There are more down this way.”

  The next chamber was that of a man, strong and powerful, his muscles swelling along his relaxed arms and his heavy thighs. Beyond him, another woman; then another man, stiff and determined-looking even in sleep.

  “It goes on for miles,” Helna murmured. “Ten thousand of them.”

  “What an army!” Carso said. He seemed to be staring down the long bright corridor as if peering ahead into the years to come. “A legacy from our ancestors: the Chalice holds life indeed. Ten thousand Earthmen ready to spring to life.” His eyes brightened. “They could be the nucleus of the Second Galactic Empire.”

  “A bold idea,” Helna said. “I like it.”

  “We could begin with Earth itself,” Carso went on. “With these couples we could repopulate the planet with warriors. Then, conquer Kariad, Jorus—and that would be just the beginning!”

  “No,” Navarre broke in, quietly but firmly. “We are forgetting the experience of the old days. We—you—talk of building a Second Empire in a riotous suicidal mushroom of expansion. It’s fool’s talk to think of an Empire.”

  “What do you mean?” Carso asked in surprise.

  “Earth carved out a galactic empire once,” Navarre said. “You see the result. No; no Empire-building for us. We should be content to rebuild Earth alone, to have her take her place as a free and independent member of the galaxy. No more than that.” Navarre grinned broadly. “Enough of this. Domrik, Joroiran will be proud of us! He sent us to find the Chalice, and we succeeded!”

  VI

  Coming home to a planet that wasn’t home was a bleak, painful business, Hallam Navarre thought. The Earthman stood alone in the midst of the crowd at the Jorus City Space
port, letting the familiar colors and smells of Jorus become part of him again. He wondered just how much had changed in his year’s absence.

  One thing was certain: Kausirn had solidified his position with Joroiran. Perhaps, thought Navarre, the Lyrellan had been making ready against the eventual return of Navarre from his wild quest. He would soon find out.

  He hailed a jetcab.

  “To the palace,” he said.

  The driver shot off toward the main district of Jorus City. They took the chief highway as far as the Street of the Lords, swung round into Central Plaza, and halted outside the palace.

  “One unit and six,” the driver said. Navarre handed the man a bill and two coins and sprang out. He paused for a moment at the approach to the palace, looking up.

  A year had gone by since the scheming Lyrellan had contrived to send him off on the fool’s errand of searching for the Chalice. It had been a busy year.

  Eight thousand of the reborn Earthmen from the Chalice Navarre had left on Earth, instructing them to marry and bring forth children. The remaining two thousand he had transported to the neighbor system of Procyon.

  His plan was that the years would pass, and children would be born, and children’s children. And a restored race of Earthmen would spring up to reunite their shattered home-world of thirty thousand years before.

  Navarre smiled. If only he could keep his plan a secret for a few years, until they were ready…

  Well, he thought, he would manage. But he was apprehensive about the sort of reception he would get in the Overlord’s palace, where once he had been the power behind the man on the throne.

  The place hadn’t changed much, physically. There were still the accursed fifty-two steps to climb, still the black-walled corridor guarded by bland monoptics from Triz. But he became conscious of the first change when he reached the Trizians.

  He chucked back the hood that covered his scalp, and, his status thus revealed, he started to go past. But one of the Trizians thrust out a horny palm and said, in a dull monotone voice, “Stop.”