Barrington Bayley SF Gateway Omnibus: The Soul of the Robot, The Knights of the Limits, The Fall of Chronopolis

What a desolate spot, Anamander thought. In this region of history the timeships always chose, if possible, an uninhabited region in which to beach themselves. The mutability of time was not something to be taken lightly.

The courier lifted his dispirited eyes to the face of the commander. He spoke in a hesitant, empty voice.

‘Shall I die now?’

Haight nodded, his expression contemptuous and remote. ‘You have performed your duty,’ he intoned formally.

The courier’s self-execution was a simple affair. It relied on the vagus nerve, by means of which the brain would signal the heart to stop. This nerve, aimed at the heart like a cocked gun, was the stock explanation of death by fright, grief, or depression, as well as by suggestion through a shaman or witch doctor. In his final briefing the courier had been trained to use this nerve voluntarily so as to carry out the order to kill himself once his task was done – an order that, in point of fact, could be said to be superfluous. The two officers watched now as he closed his eyes and mentally pronounced the hypnotically implanted trigger words. A spasm crossed his face. He doubled up, gasping, then collapsed limply to the ground.

Anamander moved a deferential foot or two away from the corpse. ‘An unusually honoured courier, sir. Not many carry messages of such import.’

‘Indeed not.’

Commander Haight continued to gaze on his fleet. ‘This will be a testing time for us, Colonel. It looks like the beginning of a full-scale attack – perhaps even of an invasion. The empire will stand or fall by the efforts of men such as ourselves.’

‘Strange that even his type should play a part in it,’ Anamander mused, indicating the corpse. ‘Somehow I can never avoid feeling sorry for them.’

‘Don’t waste your sympathy,’ Haight told him. ‘They are all criminals, condemned murderers and the like. They should be grateful for a last chance to serve the empire.’

‘I wonder what they go through to make them so willing to die.’

Haight laughed humourlessly. ‘As for that, it appears there’s only one way to find out, and as you can see it’s not a procedure to be recommended. Several times I’ve asked them, but they don’t tell you anything that makes sense. In fact, they seem to lose the power of rational speech, more or less. You know, Colonel, I’m in a somewhat privileged position as regards these couriers. Until I speak the phrase releasing them from their hypnotic block they’re unable to pronounce the key words triggering the nerve. What if I were to – I confess I’ve been tempted to keep one alive to see what would happen to him. He might come to his senses and be able to talk about it. Still, orders are orders.’

‘There must be a reason for the procedure, apart from their being condemned anyway.’

‘Quite so. Have you ever seen the strat with your naked eyes, Colonel?’

Anamander was startled. ‘No, sir!’

‘I did once – just a glimpse. Not enough to derange the senses – just the briefest glimpse. It was years ago. I was on the bridge when our main engine cut out for a moment after – well, never mind about all that. But there it is: I saw it, or almost saw it. Yet to this day I couldn’t tell either you or myself exactly what it was I saw.’

‘I’ve heard it leaves a mark on a man.’

‘Yes, Colonel, it does. Don’t ask me what sort of mark.’

Haight sniffed the air, then shivered slightly. The rain was falling faster.

‘Let’s get inside. We’ll be drenched here.’

They crossed the turf and disappeared into the towering flagship. Half an hour later the whole fleet disappeared with a hollow boom that echoed around the empty plain. Shortly there came a crash of thunder and tumultuous rain soaked the savanna, pouring over the body of the courier who had died six centuries from home.

Colonel Anamander felt reassured with the thrum of the time-drive under his feet. They were building up speed, heading back into the past and traversing the planet’s time-axis to bring them to the right location in both space and time: the continent of Amerik, Node 5.

As it moved, the fleet sprayed beta rays all around it into the temporal substratum – the strat, as chronmen called it. Electromagnetic energy could not travel through the strat, rendering communication difficult. The answer for short-range purposes was beta radiation, consisting of relativistic electrons moving slower than light. They did not penetrate far, but they sufficed for the timeships to keep contact with one another while in formation, as well as to maintain a limited radar watch.

Haight’s orders were explicit. The hunt was on for the war craft that had violated the Imperial Millennium.