Non-Stop - Brian W. Aldiss [94]
The planet now showed a wider crescent than the last time Complain had seen it. Mixed with the blinding blue of it were whites and greens, glistening under its casing of atmosphere as no colours had ever glistened before. Some distance from this compelling crescent, tiny by comparison, the sun burned brighter than life itself.
Marapper pointed at it in fascination.
‘What’s that? A sun?’ he asked.
Complain nodded.
‘Holy smother!’ Marapper exclaimed, staggered. ‘It’s round! Somehow I’d always expected it would be square – like a big pilot light!’
Zac Deight had gone over to the radio. As he picked it up, tremblingly, he turned to the others.
‘You may as well know now,’ he said. ‘Whatever happens, I may as well tell you. That planet – it’s Earth!’
‘What?’ Complain said. A rush of questions assailed him. ‘You’re lying, Deight! You must be. It can’t be Earth! We know it can’t be Earth!’
The old man was suddenly weeping, the long salt tears raining down his cheeks. He hardly tried to check them.
‘You ought to be told,’ he said. ‘You’ve all suffered so much . . . too much. That’s Earth out there – but you can’t go to it. The Long Journey . . . the Long Journey has got to go on forever. It’s just one of those cruel things.’
Complain grabbed him by his scrawny throat.
‘Listen to me, Deight,’ he snarled. ‘If that’s Earth, why aren’t we down there, and who are you – and the Outsiders – and the Giants? Who are you all, eh? Who are you?’
‘We’re – we’re from Earth,’ Zac Deight husked. He waved his hands fruitlessly before Complain’s contorted face; he was being shaken like an uprooted ponic stalk. Marapper was shouting in Complain’s ear and wrenching at his shoulder. They were all shouting together, Deight’s face growing crimson under Complain’s tightening grasp. They barged into the space suits and sent two crashing to the floor, sprawling on top of them. Then finally the priest managed to pry Complain’s fingers away from the councillor’s throat.
‘You’re crazy, Roy!’ he gasped. ‘You’ve gone crazy! You were throttling him to death.’
‘Didn’t you hear what he said?’ Complain shouted. ‘We’re victims of some dreadful conspiracy –’
‘Make him speak to Little Dog first – make him speak first – he’s the only one who can work this radio thing! Make him speak, Roy. You can kill him and ask questions after.’
Gradually the words filtered into Complain’s comprehension. The blinding anger and frustration ebbed like a crimson tide from his mind. Marapper, as always canny where his own safety was concerned, had spoken wisely. With an effort, Complain gained control of himself again. He stood up and dragged Deight roughly to his feet.
‘What is Little Dog?’ he asked.
‘It’s . . . it’s the code name for an institute on the planet, set up to study the inmates of this ship,’ Zac Deight said, rubbing his throat.
‘To study! . . . Well, get on to them right quick and say – say some of your men are ill and they’ve got to send a ship straight away to fetch them down to Earth. And don’t say anything else or we’ll tear you apart and feed you to the rats. Go on!’
‘Ah!’ Marapper rubbed his hands in appreciation and gave his cloak a tug down at the back. ‘That’s spoken like a true believer, Roy. You’re my favourite sinner. And when the ship gets here, we overpower the crew and go back to Earth in it. Everyone goes! Everyone! Every man, woman and mutant from here to Sternstairs!’
Zac Deight cradled the set in his arm, switching on power. Then, braving their anger, he mustered his courage and turned to face them.
‘Let me just say this to you both,’ he said, with dignity. ‘Whatever happens – and I greatly fear the outcome of all this terrible affair – I’d like you to remember what I am telling you. You feel cheated, rightly. Your lives are enclosed in suffering by the narrow walls of this ship. But wherever you lived, in whatsoever place or time, your lives would not be free of pain. For everyone in the universe, life is a long, hard journey. If you –’
‘That’ll do, Deight,’ Complain said. ‘We’re not asking for paradise: