Authentic Science Fiction, No. 23 — page 30: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

56 THE SINGING SPHERES aid if requested by “the existing governmental regime.” Material aid, mark you—not political advice. And in the present instance there was no doubt that Makkub represented the “existing governmental regime” on Kardoon. Every member of an exploration squad can’t be expected to know about matters of high policy at headquarters, and therefore, not possessing the complete picture, may bring catastrophe even when acting in good faith. So the rule is “Stay aloof” and the authorities are quite emphatic about its observation. Hartnell had an answer. “We’re supposed to get back with the information, aren’t we? That’s always held up as an Inter-X man’s first duty. How can we give em an absorbing account of life on Kardoon if we’re dead and buried? Mak- kub’s the only one who’s holding us back, so if we dodge him we do the job we’re supposed to. A slight infraction of one small rule to help us carry out the bigger regulation.” He seemed quite pleased with this ridiculous and faulty logic. “Political interference—a small rule?” Fuzzy-bubble meantime began to get impatient and dodged up and down like a bouncing, purple ball. “We'd better go,” I said. “Maybe the situation’s improved since we last saw Makkub—” “There,” said Hartnell, fondly, “speaks the true optimist!” i treated this essay in sarcasm with the contempt it de- served, and we made our way in silence through the awkward tunnels with the escort of spheres trailing along behind. Silence, that was, so far as vocal sounds were concerned. The inter-com began to bring us once again that terrible, numbing shriek of a thousand voices from the Great Halls. The sound, incredibly shrill, seemed to pierce my ear-drums - and made me walk as though in some kind of daze. Then, when I felt I could bear it no longer, the noise died and we knew that Makkub must’ be making his official entrance. He was perched once more wpon the ridiculous, rod-like throne when we went in, green Pakkan and orange Zakkar positioned on either side. Fuzzy-bubble floated to his place among the semi-circle of counsellors, leaving us stand- ing in embarrassing prominence between the assembly and the rulers of this highly undesirable planet. Makkub, noting with obvious satisfaction, that I held the Mattus at the ready, wasted no time on preliminaries. He said a most urgent state of affairs had arisen; therefore he THE SINGING SPHERES 57 had called them together in emergency, and the first stage of the proceedings would be a public report from the Wit- ness to the Archives. Whereupon a largish, yellow sphere moved forward to give an accurate, unvarnished account of the four scenes shown by the Machine of Revelation and, having said his piece, went respectfully back to his place. | , A huge, singing sigh echoed through the vast cavern as those multitudes of shining spheres appreciated the significance of that picture of the graves. It was cut short by Makkub getting busy again. He knew, he said, how all his subjects adored and revered him as their ruler, and ‘how he loved them all just as much. None doubted that he was their greatest figure of all time—not ex- cluding those giants among the Wise Ones. “See, all men!” he declaimed. “I am not as others among you, for I am a red sphere—and the mightiest Kardoon has ever known!” This sickening drivel went on for quite a while, and I strained at the Mattus to discover the crowd’s reaction. Sur- prisingly, it was quite fervent. Then Makkub got round to us again. Some misguided persons who ought to have known better, he went on, con- ceived a strange idea that the three loathsomely fashioned visi- tors might possess knowledge of chemistry which would in- crease the fertility of the nursery rocks. Such a notion was ludicrous, of course—nothing short of blasphemy, indeed, for even the Wise Ones themselves had been unable to solve this ancient mystery. “Y hail the Wise Ones!” he shouted, suddenly. Back came a sour, screeching wail: “Hail, the Wise Ones!”’ “In their profound farsightedness, the Wise Ones would not have wished that I, Makkub—greatest of his race—should be less in memory than these gross creatures standing before you now. The Machine of Revelation has foretold how their | tombs will be commemorated when, in a few hours, they are dead. I believe, also, that given sufficient sacrifices from among those who love me so well, the Machine will divulge the way in whch I, Makkub, am to be with you in memory through the centuries.” His meaning began to dawn upon the packed hall and the jostling spheres sang again with increased adoration. ‘comicbooks.co