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can't. That's the problem, you see. 1 told you I wasn't a Markovian but none
of you listened. I came here because you might damage
the panel, do harm to some race of people I might not even be aware of. I knew
you couldn't use this place, but all of you are quite mad now, and one or more
of you might destroy, might take the chance.
But none of you, in your madness, has thought to ask the real question, the
one unanswered question in the puzzle. Who stabilized the Markovian equation,
the basic one for the Universe?"
There was a sudden, stunned silence except for an eeriethump, thump, thump
like the beating of a great heart. Finally Brazil spoke again.
"I was formed out of the random primal energy of the cosmos. After countless
billions of years I
achieved self-awareness. I was the Universe, and everything in it. Over the
eons I started experimenting, playing with the random forces around me. 1
formed matter and other types of energy. I created time and space. But soon I
tired of even these toys. I formed the galaxies, the stars, and planets. An
idea, and they were.
"I watched things grow, and form, according to the rules I set up. And yet, I
tired of these, also. So I
cre-ated the Markovians and watched them develop ac-cording to my plan. Yet,
even then, the solution was not satisfactory, for they knew and feared me, and
their equation was too perfect. I knew their total de-velopmental line, so I
changed it. I placed a random factor in the Markovian equation and then
withdrew from direct contact.
"They grew, they developed, they evolved, they changed. They forgot me and
spread outward on their own. But since they were spiritual reflections of
my-self, they contained my loneliness. I couldn't join with them as I was, for
they would hold me in awe and fear. They, on the other hand, had forgotten me,
and as they rose spiritually they died materially. They failed to grow to be
my equals, to end my loneliness.
Their pride would not admit such a being as myself to fellowship nor could
their own fear and selfishness allow fellowship even with each other.
"So I decided to become one of them. I fashioned a Markovian shell, and
entered it."
The scene froze again, and Obie's voice returned to them. "A replay of the
last time, over a thousand years ago, that the Well of Souls was entered and
al-terations made. Although the reality of what you have witnessed may be
slightly different, since it was con-structed from memories, I did have two
accounts to work from so it is reasonably accurate."
They found themselves back on the platform again and the little dish was
already returning to its rest position. Gypsy noted that Obie had taken the
oppor-tunity to clear the table.
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"Hey! Computer! We could make a fortune if we could build that sort of thing
for theaters," the dark con man called out hopefully. He was ignored.
Yua looked incredibly smug. "The final proof!" she breathed. "You see now that
we are correct. You see now the problem and the urgency. Let us find Nathan
Brazil so that we may worship Him and beseech His favors."
Marquoz was a little more cynical. "Obie? Did everybody buy that story of
his?"
"Not Ortega the Ulik, or six-armed snake you saw; nor the twin Vardia, the
plant-creature, a Czil-lian, who agreed with Ortega that Brazil was a mad
Markovian throwback who simply did not join the great experiment and was,
perhaps, the operations manager of the Well Computer the chief mechanic, if
you will left to see that all worked properly. Much of the Well World still
thinks of him so."
"What do you think?" the Chugach pressed.
"That there was a First Creator, possibly the way he stated, is consistent
with what we know of the dynam-ics of our Universe," the computer responded.
"There is a great deal of inconsistency in Nathan
Brazil's character. Some of it suggests that his story is true, some that he
is far less than what he says.
Ortega is an Entry. He was originally a Com freighter captain, who, like
Brazil, was transformed into a member of the race you saw. Ortega knew Brazil
personally and professionally, and even after this demonstration did not
believe. I prefer, like Ortega and the Czillians, to reserve judgment. Ortega
was a self-confessed liar, thief, and scoundrel; he characterized Brazil the
same way.
"I would suggest, however, that it does not matter at all whether or not we
believe Brazil is god. That is totally irrelevant, something we may never
know. The only thing we know for sure is that he knows how to work the great
machine called the Well of Souls. As such, he is the one and only entity known
to us who might repair it. Since he set the Well to call him if there was any
problem, we must assume it has done so in fact, I have monitored the call.
Hence, we must assume that, if Brazil is still alive, he has chosen not to
answer the distress call. Why? In the earlier inci-dent he had lost most of
his memory. This or some-thing equally debilitating could have happened to him
now, in which case it is even more imperative that we find him. The last time
he was in the Well he set it to open for no one but himself."
Marquoz sighed. "That's it, then. Let's do it."
The High Priestess looked surprised at this sudden and simple acquiescence,
but was very pleased.
"We'll need a lot of help," Mavra Chang noted. "He'll have buried himself very
well. Even if we man-age to dig him up, he might catch on and rebury him-self
even deeper if, indeed, his disappearance is deliberate and not a sign of
something more ominous. We can't use the government he's obviously got a lot
of influence there. That means the Fellowship."
Yua was ecstatic. "Of course we will channel all our resources into the
search. I will convey "
"Iwill convey!" Mavra snapped, cutting her off. "I think I had better see just
who and what we'll be part-ners with myself."
"But you can not go to Olympus!" Yua protested. "It is forbidden and you could
not survive there, any-way. You haven't the physical adaptability for it!"
Mavra smiled. "I will. Marquoz, will you and
Gypsy please get off the platform and stand about where we did when we were
served dinner?"
"With pleasure!" Gypsy responded and moved well away; Marquoz, too, was not
eager to subject himself to the computer's scrutiny any more than necessary.
Mavra seemed satisfied. "Obie, you know what to do."
"Right, Mavra," the computer answered pleasantly. The dish swung out. Yua got
up and started to say something, perhaps to protest, but it was too late. The
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forms, the table, the chairs were all bathed in the violet glow, and
disappeared. The platform was bare. "Now what . . . ?" Gypsy mused aloud, but
Mar-quoz held up a small green hand.
And they were. Two forms, minus the furniture, re-materialized.
TwoYuas, absolutely identical, stood there. Two High Priestesses.
"Yua, you will take me to the Temple. We shall go by conventional ship; I wish
no suspicions raised,"
one said in the High Priestess's voice.
The second Yua turned and actually kneeled before the speaker.
"Oh, yes, my Lady," she responded softly, almost adoringly. "You have but to [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]