Alexander Kazantsev. The Destruction of Faena Translated by Alex Miller RADUGA PUBLISHERS MOSCOW OCR: http://home.freeuk.com/russica2/ ¡ http://home.freeuk.com/russica2/ Translation from the Russian Illustrated and designed by Mikhail Verkholantsev Original Russian title: GIBELX FA|NY Na anglijskom yazyke (c)Izdatel'stvo "Detskaya literatura" 1974 English translation (c)Raduga Publishers 1989 CONTENTS From the author Part One. Tension Chapter One. The Wave Chapter Two. Two Shores Chapter Three. The Masters Chapter Four. The Temple of Eternity Chapter Five. Blood Chapter Six. No Happiness in this World Chapter Seven. The Forgotten Hump Part Two. Explosion Chapter One. The Little World Chapter Two. The Golden Apple Chapter Three. Paradise Lost Chapter Four. At the Peak of Civilisation Chapter Five. Craters in the Wilderness Chapter Six. Judgement Chapter Seven. The Star of Hatred Part Three. Fragments Chapter One. Twilight Chapter Two. Mutiny in Space Chapter Three. In the Name of Reason Chapter Four. Spiders in Jar Chapter Five. The Naked Leader Chapter Six. The Testament of the Great Elder Epilogue. The Talking Beast From the author Cosmogony is no less full of riddles than the history of Earth. And where there are riddles, there is room for fantasy. However, if it is divorced from reality and rejects verisimilitude and authenticity, fantasy is empty, it leaves no trace in the heart; the best it can do is to titillate the reader's senses. But I have always wanted to achieve "authenticity in the incredible", to write fantasy founded solely on real facts and unsolved mysteries. One such riddle that excited me was the ring of asteroids (minor planets) between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter instead of the planet, as predicted by Kepler's law, which had exploded for some unknown reason, scattering fragments all round its orbit. How could that have happened? If the planet had exploded from within because of certain processes, its fragments would have flown in all directions as from a high-explosive bomb and would have continued moving round the sun in elongated elliptical orbits... But they are moving round in their former almost circular planetary orbit. If the planet had perished because of a collision with another cosmic body, their common fragments would have tended towards a resultant, also acquiring elongated elliptical orbits; but they have virtually stayed where they were. The planet apparently cracked as the result of a powerful impact received simultaneously from all directions; it then disintegrated under the influence of the gravity of Mars and Jupiter. Its remains kept colliding and breaking up, creating swarms of meteorites and stringing out round the whole former orbit of the planet. But what kind of explosion was it? The explosion of its water envelope, its oceans? It so happened that I was able to put this question to the great 20th-century physicist. Nils Bohr when he met us Moscow writers. "Can all a planet's oceans explode if a super powerful nuclear device is detonated in their depths?" I asked him. "I don't deny such a possibility," he replied, and added, "but even if it weren't so, nuclear weapons must be banned in any case." He understood it all at once! If the planet had perished when its oceans exploded, then there was a civilisation on it that had destroyed itself because of a nuclear war. This was the stimulus for me as a novelist to write my trilogy The Faetians. Other problems found their way into it. Why has the missing link between man and the Earth's animal world never been discovered? Why does Mars seem uninhabited, and was it always so? Why did great cataclysms occur on Earth, such as the sinking of Atlantis and the rise of the Andes? According to some theories, the cause was a gigantic asteroid that fell onto Earth, or the appearance of the hitherto non-existent Moon in the sky over Earth. Is this so? The reader will learn all about it in the novel as he follows the lives of the characters, who witnessed unprecedented catastrophes. The author will be happy if this book helps the reader to acquire a taste for the great secrets of the Universe and of Earth's history. Alexander Kazantsev Peace is the virtue of civilisation. War is its crime. Victor Hugo PART ONE Tension Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace,Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel. Will they not hear?- What ho! You men, you beasts. That quench the fire of your pernicious rage With purple fountains issuing from your veins. On pain of torture, from those bloody hands Throw your mistempered weapons to the ground... W. Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet Chapter One THE WAVE Translation of an extraterrestrial message inscribed in the language of the Faetians who lived on Faena a million years ago. (Books 2 and 3 of my science-fantasy novel, The Faetians, tell of who wrote and sent this message to Earth and who deciphered it.) The only daughter of the Dictator of Powermania, an ancient continent of Faena, was named Yasna after her mother. Her father, Yar Jupi, had been hoping for a son, but he loved his daughter beyond measure. He kept dreaming that she would grow up, get married and leave him. When, as was the custom, he needed to give his grown-up daughter a final name, he could think of nothing better than calling her Mada, which meant Falling-in-love. Surnames on Faena were borrowed from the stars and planets. For example. Mar, Jupi, Alt or Sirus. Mada Jupi took after her mother: she was called beautiful. Her face baffled the artists, being lively, always changing, now merry, now clear, now pensive. How could they paint her? She typified the best of the longfaces, but the oval of her features was moderate and soft, her nose was straight and her lips were firmly compressed. This blue-eyed Faetess (as they were called on Faena) was met on the Great Shore by Ave Mar, a visitor to Powermania. The girl was coming out of the water, having chosen the moment when a breaker had crashed on the shore and was sliding back in a mass of hissing foam. Ave wished he had been a sculptor. Everything he had heard about Mada from his hunchbacked secretary Kutsi Merc was pale, inadequate and dull compared with what he could see with his own eyes. A fat, elderly Faetess, one of the roundheads, ran into the water and wrapped the girl in a soft, fluffy sheet as she emerged. Mada took no notice whatever of Ave, although from what her companion had told her, she knew quite a lot about him. The nanny deftly put a folding chair down on the sand and Mada sat on it, wrapping the sheet round her as the ancients used to drape themselves in their robes. Kutsi Merc noticed the impression that Mada had made on Ave, and he hunched his back even more as he bent down to speak. "Shall we show this to the local natives?" And with a significant smile on his clever, evil face, he held a small, smooth board out to Ave. Sitting on the sand and admiring Mada, Ave vaguely replied: "Well, I didn't realise we'd brought that with us!" "The proud and beautiful Mada Jupi is here," said the secretary encouragingly. Ave Mar stood up. Thanks to his impressive height, long, strong neck and piercing eyes, he gave the impression of looking over the heads of everybody else. In obedience to his own impulse, as it seemed to him, he took the board from Kutsi and walked boldly with it into the water. Without taking her eyes off Kutsi, Mada's companion whispered into the girl's ear: "Look, Mada! The stranger from Danjab I was telling you about has taken a board with him." In spite of the breakwater, built to make swimming easier when the tide was coming in, the waves were crashing violently onto the shore. Outside the barrier, they were truly gigantic, rearing up their foaming crests one after another as on the open sea. "Where's he swimming to?" asked Mada's companion in alarm. "Shouldn't we call the lifeguards?" "He's a better swimmer than you think," commented Mada vaguely. "But why's he taken that board? It's frightening to watch." Even so, she couldn't take her eyes off him. Ave swam as far as the breakwater and climbed over it. He had now attracted the attention of many swimmers. "Why did you decide he's that particular stranger?" asked Mada. "Because of his companion. Roundheaded, like me; a hunchback into the bargain, yet he's as proud as if he was strolling along the beach of Danjab. I feel ashamed for our own people. Isn't anyone going to teach that show-off how to swim?" "No, I don't want to," said Mada, watching as the gigantic breakers swept the foreign visitor up onto their crests. And suddenly all the holidaymakers on the beach stirred in amazement. The swimmer chose the moment when a particularly big wave lifted him up on its crest, jumped to his feet and waved his arms, as if wanting to fly like a bird. He did not take off, however, but simply kept his balance on the slippery board. He stood like that on the foaming crest and with frightening speed swept towards the shore, clad in foam and spray. It seemed incredible that he should stay on the moving watery mountain. But the madman not only held his position; laughing defiantly, he began gliding down the steep watery slope, then allowed the wave to throw him upon its crest again. The crowded beach gasped at this bold display of skill. "But I must see how that's done," said Mada determinedly, casting off the "ancient robe" and handing it to her worried nanny. "What are you doing, my dear?" she protested, forgetting her recent advice. "He'll bump you with his board. And is it fitting for the daughter of Yar Jupi to swim beside him?" Mada ran into the sea and dived into an oncoming wave. The dark cap of stretch material protecting her thick hair from the water bobbed amid the foaming crests. Mada swam as far as the breakwater and climbed onto it. From there she saw the foreign swimmer going back to the sea with his board for another ride on the breakers. She waved to him, although he could not see her. There was unlikely to be as skilful a swimmer on the Great Shore as Mada. The ocean waves bore her up onto their crests and tried to hurl her back. But she was not accustomed to giving up once she had set her heart on something. She decided that she absolutely must stand on that magic board, and no force in the world could have stopped her. The foreigner swimming away from the shore didn't even look round. Mada only had a glimpse of the stranger, but as she swam after him she had the distinct impression of an athletic figure in a loincloth, strong muscles rippling under the skin, and curly hair as tousled as that of a boy. Suddenly, Mada saw him. He was standing on a foaming crest. The water seemed to be boiling under him, and with reckless abandon he began gliding down the watery slope straight at Mada. Ave noticed her at the last moment and jumped, while Mada dived under the board. It seemed to her that the wave had crashed down on her, but it was just the board grazing her slightly. Mada surfaced and looked round. The stranger's eyes met hers as he bobbed up to the surface. He laughed joyfully and promptly began swimming towards her, seizing the board on the way. "Hold on!" he shouted while still some distance off. Mada could not make anything out, but she smiled in answer, since she realised that he was hurrying to her assistance. When he swam up to her, she said: "I want to stand on that..." and she pointed at the board. "Ave Mar will be happy to help..." "Mada Jupi." "You'll learn the meaning of joy, strength and happiness!" The people standing on the shore watched what was happening on the other side of the breakwater. A sigh coursed along the beach when the two figures appeared standing straight up on the crest of a wave, holding on to one another and each evidently standing with one foot on the board. It seemed like a miracle. With their arms round each other's waists in full view of the onlookers and without falling, they were borne on the foaming crest towards the beach. Never had Mada experienced such pleasure before. Even so, when Mada and Ave crossed the breakwater and were returning with the board to the crowded beach, Mada felt uneasy. If someone had told her the day before that she was capable of such flightiness, she would have burst out laughing. Ave held the board in one hand and was ready to help Mada with the other if the surf swept her off her feet. But Mada went ahead of him and, skipping over the gurgling foam with a laugh, was the first to run up onto the beach. She seemed to be showing that, as the Dictator's daughter, she could do whatever she liked! Her anxious companion wrapped her charge up in the fluffy sheet. "How good it was! If you only knew how good it was, Mother Lua!" "As if I couldn't know," she grumbled. "I nearly died, waiting for you. If anything happened to you, I'd surely be executed by order of Yar Jupi (may he be happy, the great man!)" "It's a good thing you're alive and can help me with one or two little matters." Mother Lua gave her a stern look. "It frightens me to think of it, my dear." Mother Lua had guessed rightly about her charge's intentions. Mada had always dreamed about a real Faetian, manly, noble and pure. The uncultured Faetians among the Superiors, flaunting a civilisation that had become static since ancient times, repelled her with their boorishness, arrogance and contempt for the roundheads, whose children her mother had once nursed. The stranger, as her nanny had told her, was alien to all gloomy superstitions of the Superiors; he was a scholar of Danjab who was not afraid to break free of the Science of Death there and end up at loggerheads with everybody. It was just such a Faetian that Mada could dream about, and he had, on top of all that, turned out to be athletic, daring and handsome. It was innate in Faetians to be mutually attracted "at first sight", which they did not always admit even to themselves. The daughter of Yar Jupi had justified the name her father had given her-she had fallen in love straightway with a visitor clad in foam and, in Mother Lua's opinion, had lost her wits. "Think, my dear! If he was a longface, it would have been all right. But they're going to call this one a half-breed. Contempt and hatred! Think again, my dear! I taught you the truth about all the Faetians, but not for that!.." "No," replied Mada firmly. "Let it be the way I want it. You will go to his companion and tell him where Ave and I are going to meet." "You'll be noticed together! The Blood Guard will seize him. Don't wish him harm." "It shall be as I have said. Others will not be able to look at us. We shall meet in the palace garden." "The garden behind the Wall?" echoed Lua in alarm. "You will escort them through the Blood Door." Mother Lua looked downcast. But Mada paid no attention to her, walking on with her chin up. The Blood Door! It was one of the most reliable of the devices in the Lair, as the Dictator's palace was called. Yar Jupi had long been racked by persecution mania. It seemed to him that there were conspiracies under way everywhere to assassinate him. Consequently, he had been living for many cycles without leaving the territory of the Lair and never letting himself be seen outside its walls. He communicated with his subordinates only over closed TV. He trusted no one. Security was maintained at key points by automatons who admitted only chosen Faetians with identifiable brain biocurrents. Only the Faetians closest to the Dictator could use the Blood Door. There was no other key to it and no outsider could open it. And now Mother Lua had to escort foreigners into the garden outside the Wall. She knew that her charge would not change her mind. Moreover, she did not want to obstruct Mada in any case. Need it be said that Ave, the young Faetian, had also fallen in love? Inclined to extremes by nature, time and time again he relived the moments when, with their arms round each other's waists, he and the wonderful Faetess had ridden the surf together. He was in a fever, but he could not imagine how to see his beloved again, since she had turned out to be Yar Jupi's daughter. Grunting as if carrying a heavy load, Kutsi Merc trudged along behind Ave. He was not in the least surprised to notice that the nurse had fallen behind her charge and was adjusting a shoelace. Letting Ave go ahead, the hunchback hung back near the roundhead, and she, without straightening up, said almost inaudibly: "As soon as shining Jupi rises in the sky, take your master to the ruins of the old shrine in the Dread Wall." Kutsi Merc nodded, grinned craftily and caught up with his master. "Success is the envy of failures. A tryst has been made at the old ruins in the light of Jupi, the brightest of planets." Ave looked round suddenly. "Are you jesting?" "Jesting is of no avail in my profession. Kutsi Merc is too good a ... helper." By a whim of the Dictator's, the Dread Wall round his Lair ran through a tiny ruined shrine dividing it into two halves. This screened from view the Blood Door, which was hardly noticeable in any case. The wall in the lower part divided in obedience to the brain biocurrents written into the program of the electronic automatons. Mother Lua nervously gave the door its mental instructions and it opened. Ave and Kutsi Merc, who were standing in the half-ruined portico, quickly proceeded through the gap, Lua followed them and the Wall closed behind her. Only the ruins on the inner side of the wall showed where to look for the vanished door. Ave looked round. He was in a luxuriant garden. Sinuous lianas hung down like snakes guarding their prey. Beyond the shaggy tree-trunks lurked a gloom that seemed dense and clammy. Lua, the nocturnal luminary whose name the nurse bore, had not yet begun to rise, and Jupi, the brightest of the planets, was only just silvering the tree-tops. Under them it was as dark as on a starless night. The young Faetian's heart was thudding in his breast. Kutsi Merc's pulse was throbbing evenly enough. He had gained access to the Lair, into which not even a snake could crawl its way... Chapter Two TWO SHORES Ave Mar first met Kutsi Merc, his secretary, half a cycle before the encounter with Mada on the Great Shore. Ave Mar's steamcar stopped that day in a mountain pass on the continent of the Culturals of Danjab. The view took Ave's breath away. The ocean, revealed from high up, seemed to ascend to the very heavens. The misty band of the horizon looked like a ridge of lofty clouds. Below lay Business City. The skyscrapers stood in concentric circles. They were linked by ring and radial streets and avenues, on both sides of which lay green parks and glittering lakes. In the city centre towered a skyscraper resembling the conical axis of the monstrous Wheel of Business Life. Ave put his foot down on the pedal to open the high-pressure boiler valve. The steam drive slowly moved the car from its place, accelerating it to the required speed. Steamcars had appeared very recently, but had quickly replaced the obsolete vehicles powered by internal combustion engines. In their time, these machines had poisoned the air of the cities with their exhaust gases. The fuel they consumed could have served as chemical raw material for clothing and other goods in daily use. As he drove at top speed along the magnificent road, Ave Mar crossed the outer circle avenue on which stood the tower blocks of Business City. From a distance, they seemed conical. In fact, they were stepped. They were girt by a spiral steamcar road which gave access to each storey in succession and to the garage entrances outside every flat. The conical towers housed shops with corridors leading to exits onto the spiral road, restaurants, cafes, and also theatres and concert or viewing halls. There were production workshops and business offices in the centre of the multistorey building. Moving staircases led to the garages under the living quarters. The ordinary Faetians, toiling in the workshops, had no cars and hardly ever left their cramped little rooms, unaware of any world other than that shut in by the skyscraper's spiral roadway. Ave stopped his steamcar. The garage doors opened automatically and closed behind him when he had driven in. The car needed no maintenance, being permanently ready for use with the necessary steam pressure in its boiler. The heating device of disintegration matter was, so to speak, part of the machine and wore out with it. Ave Mar was in a dejected mood. He dropped in on one of his friends; but the friend had summoned a secret meeting and had not invited Ave. Ave understood what it was all about and drove off immediately. On the way back he saw the pathetic hovels of the Faetians who worked in the fields. He felt ashamed of himself for having, over his garage, several living rooms in which no one lived, in fact, except for himself. He had never known lack of room, but he had known loneliness and could only call up his mother over the screen. Oh, Mother, Mother! Even at that enormous distance, she unerringly guessed what was in her son's heart and was always the first to appear on the screen. Ave glumly stepped onto the upward moving staircase. What was the meaning of life, if all that lay ahead was a blind alley from which the Faetians could not escape? It was madness to seek deliverance in wars of annihilation. Many Faetians understood as much... But why did his friends not trust him? He needn't keep quiet with them. Did he not also subscribe to the Doctrine of Justice? But they didn't need him... No one needed him... Ave went into the first of his round rooms and stopped dead in amazement. A broad-shouldered, burly hunchback came up to meet him with a guarded smile on his hard face. "Ease and happiness!" said the stranger. "I am Kutsi Merc! The Ruler Dobr Mar gave me the key of this flat as his son's secretary." Ave smiled bitterly. "Is my father worried that his son is gnawed by misery?" "Your father was thinking of something more important." "Will it deliver me from bitterness?" "Would it be a bad thing to visit the ancient continent of Powermania? High technology in the hands of barbarians who call themselves Superiors?" "What's the sense of such dreams? I worked with Um Sat. I specialise in the disintegration of matter, so I am not allowed to travel overseas. We live in times of emptiness, disillusion, tension..." "As your secretary, I shall help you in everything, even in a trip to the continent of the barbarians." So saying, the hunchback went into the other room. He soon returned carrying vessels with beverages and two cylinders of compressed narcotic smoke which the Culturals loved to inhale when relaxing. Kutsi Merc's clothes were stretched tight over his hump, as if tailored for someone else. Ave was amazed at the speed with which his new acquaintance made himself at home. The neglected flat was transformed. Mechanisms, switched on before the occupant's arrival, had cleaned the place up. As he inhaled the smoke, the young Faetian studied Kutsi Merc. "If only we journey to Powermania," he said reflectively, "before misery kills desire..." "Desires must be fulfilled. Otherwise it is not worth desiring. The Faetesses over the ocean are very beautiful." "How can that be of any importance? Even knowledge is powerless to lead the Faetians out of their blind alley. Soulless power politics, blind subordination to dogma! The blockheads refuse to listen to anything that is unfamiliar to them!.." Ave was suffering from rejection of his ideas and was airing his sense of injury. "The great law of inertia! Inertia can be overcome by the application of energy. The law must be interpreted more broadly." "Kutsi Merc is undoubtedly more than adequately equipped for the obligations of secretary." "One must also overcome the inertia in oneself." Kutsi Merc blew out an intricate pattern of smoke. The hunchback was certainly astonishing Ave Mar; but there were still more surprises to come. Kutsi now came to see Ave Mar every day and tirelessly told stories about the legendary continent of a very ancient civilisation. It turned out that he knew Power-mania extremely well, was familiar with its history, art, and architecture, had evidently been there a number of times, and was fluent in the language of the barbarians, as he called the inhabitants of Powermania. "Look and marvel. The depths of ignorance and the heights of knowledge, an alien technology and the wild theories of the Superiors, the slums of the roundheaded monsters and the legendary beauty, Mada Jupi." "The Dictator's daughter?" asked Ave, interested in spite of himself. "Brought up by a most cultured nurse of roundhead stock. Became a Sister of Health, looks after children in spite of her father's Doctrine of Hatred. He loves her so much that he will tolerate any of her whims." "What does she look like?" asked Ave vaguely. Kutsi brightened up. "The long legs of the runner, but feminine. The lines of her body would make a classical sculpture. A soft heart and the hauteur of pride. It's hard to win her indulgence." "It looks as though Kutsi Merc has been having a try." With a bitter smile, the hunchback pointed to his hump. "Kutsi Merc bears too heavy a burden in life." He had now completely relieved Ave Mar of his daily household chores. He went on talking about Powermania, but didn't mention Mada again. It was Ave Mar who raised the subject of a possible journey over the sea. Kutsi Merc had apparently been waiting for this. "The berths on the ship have been booked." Ave Mar stood on the deck of the ocean-going ship and looked into the distance. This time, the ocean wasn't rising to heaven, as in the view from the mountain pass, but it was as boundless and no less striking to the imagination. Dm Sat had confided a terrible secret to his pupil about this ocean. Every secret is a burden, and this one, concerning the destiny of all Faetians, was a particularly heavy weight on Ave's mind. Kutsi warily tried to found out the cause of Ave's bad mood, but Ave avoided the subject by holding forth against scientists who would not accept his ideas about the possibility of life on other planets. Kutsi grinned craftily and poked fun at the young Faetian, maintaining that the real reason was that he hadn't yet fallen in love. The barbarians' continent appeared on the horizon. Sharp arrows seemed to be sticking up out of the water. Over the sea rose the weird buildings of the ancient continent, on which the houses were not round, but rectangular (how absurd!}. Incredibly crowded, they reached for the sky and gradually merged into a pile of irregular acute-angled pillars that suggested a cluster of crystals. Almost leaping out of the water, a security launch raced towards the ship. They were faced with the control procedure. Kutsi Merc sought out his master so as to be at his side. Longfaced men with hooked noses were climbing aboard. They were all in identical angular clothes with collars upraised at the back and short dark hooded capes that became rectangular bands on the chest. "Hey you, hunchbacked offspring of carrion-eaters! Make way before the Blood Guard!" snarled the first of the longfaces as he drew level with Kutsi Merc. "You'll have to get out of here and go back to your stinking island." Ave Mar, who had specially learned the language of Powermania, flushed with rage but, on catching Kutsi's sidelong glance of warning, he kept quiet. But Kutsi Merc arched his hump as he bowed, meekly lowering his head and using a manner of speech not his own, but typical of the local dialect. "Perhaps the officer of the Blood Guard will be interested to know that the insignificant roundhead whom he sees before him is only secretary to this distinguished traveller, the clear-thinking Ave Mar, son of the Ruler of Danjab." The longface, who was wearing a beard in imitation of Dictator Yar Jupi, glanced contemptuously at Kutsi. Ave Mar offered him his tokens. "The athletic son of Ruler Dobr Mar is recognisable even without his tokens," said the officer, showing off his familiarity with the old manner of speech. "As for this contemptible roundheaded cripple, he should be attached as if by a chain to his master while serving him, as is preordained by nature." And the officer made for the other passengers. Kutsi Merc ran after him, humbly begging the return of the tokens. The officer threw them down; they landed on the deck with a jingle and nearly rolled overboard. Kutsi Merc bent over to snatch them up and even went down on his knees. The officer laughed coarsely. "That's how to welcome the land of Superiors-in the posture of the lizard from which you are not so distantly descended." "May happy days last for a long time here," replied Kutsi Merc humbly. The ocean-going ship sailed into a harbour which was surrounded on all sides by enormous, weirdly rectangular buildings. Among them, Ave Mar immediately recognised several famous temples which had been built in ancient times and had towered high over all the other buildings of that period. The city had risen since then and had blotted them from view. So this was what it was like. Pleasure City! Some of the gigantic blocks were linked by fantastical multi-tiered street-bridges crossing at various levels. Ave thought that he was looking at a forest mound, which in his homeland was built by little insects with many feet. This impression of the maritime city of the Superiors was strengthened even further when he and Kutsi Merc were on dry land. They were pushed and jostled by crowds of hurrying Faetians. In addition to the steam-cars, there were vehicles powered by obsolete internal combustion engines. Making an appalling din and poisoning the air, this medley of heterogeneous vehicles surged past the half-asphyxiated Ave or thundered overhead on the crazy bridges between the massive artificial canyons of the buildings. Squeezed into a corner of the tiny lift-cage by other Faetians, Ave and Kutsi were taken up to the tiny room set aside for them in the expensive Palace of Visitors. While Kutsi Merc unpacked, Ave stood at the lancet window and looked out on an alien world. He could not see any of the old-time romance for which he had yearned since childhood. Everything here was an eyesore, beginning with the uniform of the coarse Blood Guards and ending with the awkward angles of the cramped little room. "Don't torture your eyes with barbarian buildings," said Kutsi Merc. "We'll be on the Great Shore tomorrow." A roundhead servant of low stature appeared and asked whether the new arrivals would prefer vegetable or animal food with blood for dinner, and whether they wanted, like all travellers, to look round the densely populated quarters of the city, and whether they had any other orders for him. Kutsi Merc considered it necessary to display the traditional curiosity, so he and Ave did not allow themselves time for a rest, but trailed off into the famous roundhead quarters. Although he knew the slums of his native continent, Ave had never imagined that Faetians could live in such filthy and overcrowded conditions. It was only possible to breathe on a street when it became a suspension bridge. But where the street was hemmed in by buildings and ran between them like a tunnel, it became, as it were, part of the living quarters. Not shy of passers-by, the Faetians kept their doors open, got on with their household chores, sat at the table with children born before the roundheads were banned from having children, ate their simple but acrid-smelling food and went to bed. The Faetesses poked their heads out of the open doors and, shouting loudly, conversed with the inhabitants on the second or third stories up. Here and there, only just above the heads of the passers-by, the inmates' washing had been hung out to dry; most of them did not know whether they would have to sweat at work on the next day as well. Ave very much wanted to hold his nose when, accompanied by Kutsi, he fled from those evil-smelling quarters, famed for their openly exhibited poverty. The Power of Justice had only existed for a hundred and three days and it had not been able to help the residents... "So what's the answer to this?" wondered Ave. "Is it really in the monstrous law of a Dictator who has forbidden these families to have children?" Was it really to see all this that he had dreamed of coming here from across the ocean ever since childhood? But next day he saw the Great Shore and Mada. Chapter Three THE MASTERS Dictator Yar Jupi's palace was part of the Temple of Eternity, in which worship had ceased after the Faetians forgot their religion. Now the Dread Wall separated the temple from the monastery buildings that had been converted for the Dictator's use. The soaring spire of black stone resembled a torpedo with a disintegration warhead. The ancient architects never suspected that they were anticipating the outlines of a future weapon. Even less could they have imagined that, in the event of a disintegration war, the cellars under the Temple of Eternity would house the Central Control Panel of Defence Automatons. The machines could unleash a death-dealing swarm of disintegration torpedoes against Danjab. A session of Peaceful Space was now being held over these fearsome machines in the former shrine of the temple with its black columns soaring up into the sky. Its chairman was Dm Sat of Danjab, who had in his time discovered the disintegration of matter (By the disintegration of matter, the Faetians meant the nuclear reactions of fissionand synthesis, as a result of which, as is known, a deficiency of mass is observed; that is, matter diminishes; it disintegrates, releasing an enormous amount of energy) and had made a terrible mistake by publishing his discovery on both continents simultaneously. The great roundhead, as he was called, and the planet's first authority on matter, had decided that he was as great an authority on life. Believing that the simultaneous appearance of a superpowerful weapon on both continents would create a "balance of fear", he hoped that war would become impossible. However, the tension of the relations between the continents was growing. Urn Sat had only hit on one of the causes: overpopulation and hostility because of the lack of room. But the hostility over profits was far more dangerous. Overpopulation was aggravating all aspects of the struggle even further. The proprietors on both continents, while suppressing dissatisfaction of the toilers by force, were also threatening one another with force across the ocean. It seemed to them that they could, at the expense of their competitors, not only boost profits, but could pacify the malcontents in their own country with a small handout. The horrified Um Sat was beginning to realise the inevitability of a disintegration war and he considered himself responsible for it. That is why he was now trying to find a solution for everything in the exploration of new space continents, dreaming about the partial resettlement of Faetians on them and about universal reconciliation. Heavy responsibility, disillusion, care and fatigue had left their mark on the old Faetian's face. His high forehead under the dense shock of hair was furrowed by deep lines. The big, sad eyes were full of kindly wisdom and understanding. But with it all went a weak chin covered by a greying beard. In spite of the Sat's tragic mistake, he was still respected for his tremendous achievements in science and for his unquestionable integrity of purpose. Consequently, the sages of learning from both continents met him in the hall with the greatest respect. But at that moment, within only a hundred paces of the Temple of Eternity, behind the wall of the Lair, there was another world-famous Faetian whom no one respected but all feared. Yar Jupi became Dictator during the black days when the Power of Justice was suppressed. Before his daughter was born, he was merely an inconspicuous tradesman who did business with the roundheads. To please his clients, he took Mother Lua into service for Mada, who had lost her mother. The nurse replaced the child's real mother at the memorable time when the fury of the oppressed burst into the open. The uprising shook Powermania, depriving the proprietors of power and possessions. Lying low in their burning hatred, they refused to reconcile themselves to defeat. They had the brutal experience of struggle amongst themselves. They had always fought to the death with the toilers and with one another. However, they were now ready to forget their own quarrels. There were proprietors on both sides of the ocean. But since the discovery and settlement of the new continent of Danjab, the Faetians had lived there without the ancient prejudices; there wasn't even any favourable soil on which they could flourish. The result was that, under the new circumstances, both roundheads and longheads began enjoying equal rights and opportunities to make others work for them. Be that as it may, it led to the rapid growth of, if not a culture, at least a technology. The products of the Gutturals, as its inhabitants began to style themselves, invariably proved better and cheaper than those of Powermania's barbarians. And the proprietors of Danjab inundated the old continent with their products. In Powermania, crude and primitive means of manufacture still prevailed. The proprietors of that continent found themselves under threat of ruin. No matter how much they oppressed their toilers, the profits were slipping out of their hands. They came to seethe with hatred for everything from Danjab. Only a defeat in the struggle with the Justice Movement temporarily relegated a reckoning with the overseas proprietors to the background. When Yar Jupi proclaimed his Doctrine of Hatred, he had only heard about the Council of Blood, not suspecting who the members might be. Once, when summoned to a secret meeting of the council in a cellar, he was shaken to recognise, under the cowls of those present, two important workshop proprietors and one big land proprietor. "Our choice has fallen on you, Yar Jupi," declared the land proprietor. "Your Doctrine of Hatred could unite, for nothing unites better than common hatred. With its help, the Movement of Blood should suppress the Movement of Justice. But do not forget that purity of blood," he added significantly, "though regarded as the