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Thorson paused, a humorless smile on his face. Jerkily he climbed to his feet and paced the floor. He stopped finally.
“Perhaps you are begi
His smile became grimmer. “Naturally,” he said, “we shall continue the war until I see my way clear in this situation. And that, my friend, is where you come in.”
The problem of himself came to the fore again as swiftly as that.
Gosseyn sank slowly back into his chair. He was puzzled, but he was suffering an emotional reaction that prevented thought. His body ached with anger and hatred for the galactic empire that was playing the game of power politics with human lives. He felt a consuming need to give of himself, to share in the great sacrifice that had been made, to offer his life as freely as others had offered theirs. The desire to be at one with the people of Venus was almost overpowering.
Almost. Consciously, cortically, he drew away from that death impulse. What was right for them was not necessarily right for him. It was the very essence of null-A that no two situations were the same. He was Gilbert Gosseyn II, possessor of the only extra brain in the universe. His purpose must be to remain alive and develop his special mind.
And that was what was puzzling here. Theoretically, there was no chance at all for a prisoner to accomplish any purpose of his own. But Thorson’s very frankness seemed to offer hope.
Whatever it was, he would have to accept it and somehow turn it to his own advantage.
He saw that Thorson was still staring down at him, a somber expression on his face now. The big man said slowly, “What I don’t understand, Gosseyn, is where do you fit into this picture?”
He looked puzzled. “You were shoved onto the scene, almost literally, on the eve of the attack. Ostensibly, your appearance was designed to stop the invasion. I admit you delayed us, but not for long. In the final issue you seem to have served no useful purpose. The attack has been defeated not because of anything you did but because of the philosophy of a race.”
He stopped. His head tilted very sharply to the right in an unconscious but expressive hesitation. He seemed absorbed in the problem at hand. When he spoke again, his voice was husky.
“And yet—and yet, there must be a co
“When Prescott reported that you had reappeared on Venus, at first I refused to believe it. I ordered Crang to find you, and then, because I wanted your co-operation, I had Prescott play that little game of appearing to help you escape. It provided an opportunity for getting rid of Lavoisseur and Hardie, and through Dr. Kair we found out something about your extra brain. You will have to forgive our methods because we were so upset when you appeared in a second body.
“Immortality!” He was leaning forward, his eyes slightly distended, as if he were re-experiencing an emotion that had rocked the foundations of his being. He seemed unaware that he had given away “X’s” real name. Lavoisseur! Gosseyn recalled having heard the name somewhere, but the co
Thorson paused, and looked keenly at Gosseyn. “You’ll be interested to know where we found the body of Gosseyn III. Frankly, I was always a little suspicious of Lavoisseur. Just because he had that accident, I didn’t quite see him turning against his old work and joining up with the enemies of null-A. So I paid a visit to the Semantic building on Korzybski Square and—”
He stopped again, tantalizingly, this time. And Gosseyn gasped, “It was there?”He didn’t wait for the answer. His mind had leaped on, beyond those words, to a new comprehension. “Lavoisseur!” he said. “I didn’t get the name before. You mean ‘X’ was Lavoisseur, head of the Semantics Institute?”
“His accident was publicized two years ago when it happened,” said Thorson. “Very few people knew how bad it had been. But that’s unimportant now. What matters is, there was your third body. The scientists in charge swore it was brought in only a week before and that it was supposed to be held for the Games Machine. They said they’d called the Machine in a routine fashion and verified that it would send a truck for it in a week or so. But when I found it, it was still in its case. I didn’t intend to destroy the body but when my men tried to get it out of its—container, the damned thing blew up.”
He pulled up the chair again, and sank into it heavily. He seemed unaware of the action, for he did not take his gaze from Gosseyn’s face. He said in a ringing voice, “That’s the picture, my friend. I assure you there was a Gosseyn III. I saw him with my own eyes, and he looked exactly like you and exactly like Gosseyn I. Seeing that third body of yours decided me to take the great personal gamble of my career.”
The statement seemed to relieve him, as if by putting his decision into words he had made it final. Thorson shifted in his chair, and leaned confidentially closer.
“Gosseyn, I don’t know just how much you know. I have assumed, a great deal.” He added ironically, “I have not been blind to the eagerness with which other people for reasons of their own have given you information. However, they don’t count.” He waved his right hand with a large gesture that dismissed others with finality. “Gosseyn, what I told you a moment ago about League regulations is true enough. But, as you have probably guessed, all that doesn’t matter.” He paused, nevertheless, with the air of a man about to reveal a secret. “Those treaties were deliberately broken.” He planted his feet solidly on the floor. He said darkly, “Enro is weary of the vaporings of the League. He wants war on the largest scale, and he has specifically given me instructions to exterminate the people of null-A Venus as a deliberate provocation.”
He finished quietly, “Because of you I have decided not to carry out his orders.”
Gosseyn had mentally watched it coming. From his first words, the big man had concentrated on the mystery of Gilbert Gosseyn. His own problem, his own duties had been incidentally brought in for purposes of clarification and explanation. And the tremendous, the almost incredible thing was that, unknowingly, Thorson had at last provided a reason for the appearance of so many Gosseyns on this vast canvas of events. The leader of an irresistible war mechanism, geared for unlimited destruction, had been turned aside from his purpose. His mind’s eye was focused beyond the normal realities of his life, and the vision of immortality on which he gazed blinded him to all else. There were still loose ends, still blurs in that picture—but it was to divert this man from his goal that Gosseyn had been brought back to life. There was no doubt, either, as to where Thorson’s logic was taking him.
“Gosseyn, we’ve got to find the cosmic chess player. Yes, I said ‘we.’ Whether you realize it or not, you have to be in on this search. The reasons are weighty, both personal and general. It ca