Rocket to Limbo

Wait! Lars jumped to his feet. There’s something I want to know.

The woman paused, questioningly.

The others. Where are the others who came with me?

A wave of fear, faint but unmistakable. Something became guarded in the woman’s eyes. They are safe. They are sleeping.

Then wake them up.

Never! Sharp fear flared in her eyes. No, no, they must remain asleep.

I don’t believe you. I don’t think they’re here. Lars watched their faces closely, groped with his mind to catch their response. I think you’ve killed them.

No, no! We could never have done that. The Masters would be angry.

Then take me to them. Show me. Prove that they’re still alive.

There was a sound in the door, and Lars saw Peter standing there, watching, his eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

“I told them we want to see the others,” Lars snapped. He turned back to the woman. Take both of us. Both of us want to see.

The City-people stood transfixed, fear strong in both their minds. Then Lars sensed the shadow of a sigh, a breath of

resignation, as the man made a weary gesture with his hands. AU right. We will show you. Come.

They were afraid. They tried to shield their fear, but Lars could feel it, like an ugly gray blanket, wrapping their thoughts as they led the way down into the vault. They were afraid with an overwhelming, uncontrollable fear. Lars and Peter followed, white-faced, feeling an almost unbearable apprehension themselves as they moved through corridors and down darkened stairways.

“Can you feel it?” Lars whispered as they walked.

“It’s about to knock me over,” Peter whispered back. “They’re practically paralyzed with fear.”

“But why should they be? If they have nothing to hide, I mean.”

“I don’t think that’s the thing at all.”

Something caught in Lars’ mind, and he looked sharply at Peter. “How did you know what I was doing when I asked to come down here? I didn’t make a sound.”

“I know. I—felt it. I couldn’t tell what, exactly, but I knew you’d hit them with something.”

They finally reached a long, darkened room, far down in the depths of the city. Along both walls of the vault were pallets, floating off the floor. On each pallet was a sleeping man. Lars stared at the figures.. Suddenly he felt very cold. They were breathing slowly; some were muttering in their sleep. Occasionally one moved an arm or a leg. Down the right hand side he could see John Lambert, snoring gently. Commander Fox slept beside him. On the far side was Jeff Salter.

You see? All sleeping. All safe. Lars caught the woman’s thought, but he also felt the wave of fear emanating from her mind, twisting into his thoughts like an icy finger. Then she turned sharply, almost out of control, and led them upstairs into the cool, pleasant corridor above.

Lars was not sorry to leave the darkened vault. It had been a ghastly sight, but the men were there, alive, sleeping. Why have you done this? Lars thought sharply. Why are you so afraid of them?

But don’t you see? They would destroy us. The Masters warned us.

Who are these Masters?

The woman blinked at him, not comprehending. The Masters are the Masters. Who else?

Are they here? In the city?

Oh, no. They left long ago. They have never returned. But when the time is right—

Lars caught the flush of excitement in Peter’s eyes. But the Masters left you orders you have to obey. Is that right?

Orders? Obey? The Masters knew what was right. Why should we need orders to obey? The woman’s confusion was growing. Surely you understand, it was the Masters who fed us and taught us. We only do as they wish.

And then Lars saw the question that had to be answered. He looked straight at the woman and put all his power into the query: What were you before the Masters came?