Part 2

He felt Marva's hand tremble on his, like a frightened butterfly. He caught that hand, pressed it convulsively to his lips, and then they were directly over the radiance.

The gyro bucked, and plunged. As a moth it fell toward the light. The shock flung them forward. He sensed Marva's fall, but had no time for thought, other than an involuntary reaching for the controls. He strained to right the possessed ship, working against the siren radiations that pulled it down.

Brightness was about them. Skins shown golden, eyes were dazzled.

The gyro resisted Allyn's manual commands. Fingers numb with the pull, he fought. Slowly the nose eased up, giving them a precious moment's gain. The gyro shuddered--a doomed thing. He coaxed it further, but again the nose dipped. And again he brought it up! And then--abruptly--the pull was gone. The brilliance faded.

They were past the Barrier!

Astounded they looked at one another. Bereft of speech or comprehension they could only stare. Save for the swiftly fading light they were as before--unchanged, unscathed. And behind them the Barrier pulsed, with no sign of transgression.

"Am I different?" Marva whispered.

He shook his head mutely.

A hoarse exclamation turned them to the others in the cabin. They too were fully conscious and aware of the unbelievable thing that had happened. They too stared at themselves and at each other, and then they rose, the Numen unsteady in their chains, and scrambled for a look at what lay below.

The land was devastated. A twin to the Forbidden Area! Allyn thought he must be mad. Surely they had gone through! And there at the boundary mark was a rotted fence to mark off the Area before the waste land became mutilated forestry.

Everything was the same! Everything--but the Gyro-Gard were not there....

* * * * *

Then they saw the forest. It was not the same, not the one they had left. It was smaller and terminated in the muddy bank of a twisted river. On the opposite bank were scattered signs of habitation. But such habitation! The style was squat, the material was red oblong blocks set in rows upon each other.

There were grain fields. People working in the fields looked up at their passing, and evidenced excitement. People working in the open! Unsheltered by hills or caves!

Habitations became more frequent, and soon they flew over the square of a town. A town unprotected by a Nyloplast screen!

Allyn brought the aircraft lower. People were congregating in the square, gesticulating.

Allyn felt a stirring in his mind and, as plain as spoken words: "Come down. Land."

Hesitantly his fingers touched the controls. The thoughts in his brain were gentle, encouraging. He glanced at Marva. Her eyes were on the scene below, dreamy, lips half parted. Behind her Keeven watched. There was eagerness in his face.

"It's safe," he said to Allyn's questioning glance. "I sense it. They are friendly."

Allyn felt it too. There was reassurance in the sight of people gathering, without fear, in an unprotected area. He brought the gyro to a landing in the cleared space of the square.

Nevertheless he took gun in hand when he came to the door. Cautiously he opened it.

And saw a sight beyond believing.

These people were an impossibility! Dark haired people with silver eyes--silver eyed people with vari-colored hair! A cross-breeding of Olmen and Numen! It was absurd! Inconceivable!

A path opened in the throng for a man who was obviously the leader. Like the others, he was an impossibility. He was tallest of all, with silver eyes and his hair was long and incredibly red. There was a red growth of hair on his chin where no Numan could grow hair.

"Welcome, strangers from beyond the Radiation. Welcome to York. I am Jon, Elder of York."

A thrill pierced Allyn. He stared at the smiling man, the smiling people behind him. No word had been spoken. Yet the words had been clear in his brain.

Telepaths!

Marva gasped as she realized this too. "Why they aren't even surprised to see us."

Jon's answer was benign. "We know why you are here. You have not closed your minds to us. We knew that someday the Radiation would be conquered. It was predicted that generations would become acclimated to radioactivity and eventually find it no different to their systems than air or water."

The thought was startling. But it gave the voyagers new hope. Perhaps they would here find a weapon to shatter the dome! Perhaps find new life for Nuwomen! Eagerly they came out of the gyro.

That was their error. The Senior-Gard hurled to the door, catching the handle with his chained hands. Keeven turned. Too late! The door slammed shut. The Olman struck at the door with fists like battering rams. To no avail. The gyro hummed, lifted straight up, and went winging back toward the Barrier.

"They're going for reinforcements!" Agitated Allyn turned to Jon. "They'll return and attack your town."

The Elder's eyes twinkled. "There is no fear in York. Come to my dwelling. You will eat, and perhaps we can help you find what you seek."

He led the way to one of the strange red colored houses. Inside were fabric hangings over the windows, and fabric covering the floor and furniture. Allyn found it colorful, but too barbaric for his own austere taste. The Elder's mate, a silver haired woman with friendly blue eyes came to serve them.

Over the dishes of unfamiliar, but steamingly good food, Jon told of the ancient records preserved in the archives. The records told of the Originals of the Earth, a mighty but warlike race. Their terrible weapons had laced the earth with Bands of Radiation whose rays had changed the genes of mankind. The Numen were evolved from this. But many Originals had gone underground, in lead-impregnated shelters, staying there for countless generations. These were the Olmen, untouched by the first and strongest radiations.

In York, when the Olmen came again to the surface, they found the Numen decreasing as their women died in childbirth. At first there was antagonism between the groups but, on several occasions younger and more lustful Numen seized Olwomen, and from that mating it was discovered that only in cross-breeding was there survival.

"Our medics," the Elder explained, "have found that pure breeding of Numen created a negative factor in the blood of the unborn child. These negative antibodies erupted into the positive bloodstream of the mother, causing a jaundiced condition that affects the brain, leading to death in labor. Yet that same X-condition goes through transformation in the baby's system after the birth eruption so that, by the age of one year, the child is of positive blood. The weird X-factor holds true only in pure Numan breeding, seldom in cross-breeding."

But Keeven said moodily, "The Numen will not believe this. They will come with their gyros to destroy York for heresey." He leaned across the table. "But there are weapons," he told the Elder. "Our legends say there are weapons to blast the Nyloplast dome. If we are the victors, Numen will have to listen."

Jon shook his head. "There are no weapons. They were destroyed by the Originals when they saw how they had destroyed themselves. But there is a way." He looked at Allyn. "It is a hard way--and dangerous, but perhaps you can do it."

And he told them.

* * * * *

Hours later the three went back alone. Back to the lip of the radiant crater. In quietness they waited.

Toward dawn, like dark glistening moths out of the radiance, came a squadron of gyros. The leading craft spotted the figures below, dipped and came down. The others hovered in space, watchful. When the lead gyro landed, its door swung open and the red-cloaked Senior sprang out, flame gun ready.

The trio raised their arms in surrender. In a moment they were disarmed and hustled into the gyro. Their craft took the lead, rising high so the pull above the Barrier would be lessened. Even so it took master maneuvering to keep the ship steady till they were through.

Within the hour the Nyloplast dome came shimmering into view. At a signal over the communication system, the top-right section leading to the hangars slid open, and the gyros droned through. When they landed, the captives were prodded out of the hangar into the dazzling morning light reflected more brilliantly from the Nyloplast screen.

The hygienic whiteness of the city struck Allyn forcefully, as though he viewed it for the first time. They were led to a large, gleaming white building, into a high vaulted audience room. Straight ahead was the dais of marbleized seats where the Logicians met in Council. They sat there now, in full knowledge that Allyn would be in judgment before them. Metas, in skull cap and robes of judgment, sat in the center, regarding them with cold eyes.

Allyn lifted a hand in salute of respect.

The Council was silent.

Drawing a deep breath Allyn glanced once at Keeven and Marva who were flanked by watchful Gards. "I bring hope for our people," he began and quickly recounted his adventures past the Barrier.

The council listened dispassionately. With sinking heart Allyn realized his words were in vain. Numan belief in the animalism of Olman was too deep set. Mate with the beast! He saw the distaste in their expressions.

"You go beyond the bounds of taste," Metas warned. "There is only one reason you are still alive, Allyn. You must consent to the mating as decreed."

"I cannot. It would mean Aleena's death. Besides, I love Marva of the Olmen."

Horror rippled through the Council.

"Take them to the Syko Room!" Metas thundered. "I will administer Hypno myself."

They were dragged to a side door, down a narrow corridor, into the thick doored syko room. Allyn knew it well--those white walls cunningly concealing lights and mirrors to stun the mind. The padded tables with bands of iron. He was pushed to a table, strapped down, flat on his back. Marva started toward him, but was flung back by a Gard and forced to stand against the wall beside her brother, while their captors stood with flame guns ready.

The stony faced Chief Logician adjusted switches. Lights dimmed. Mirrors of various colors danced light spots before Allyn's eyes. He felt his senses swimming. He clenched his fists. Sweat stood out on his brow.

Metas leaned over him, soft voiced, soothing. Allyn's mind strained against the lure. There was something he had to remember--a lesson, important as life itself.

Oh, how the lights spun! If he could sleep! Sleep! The voice lured--sleep!

"Allyn! RESIST!" Marva's voice! Then a Gard's fist silenced her.

RESIST! The key. Jon's words: "They can't hypno you unless you already believe. Don't believe! Resist!"

Then he fought back. Against the soothing sibilance. Against the dancing lights. He turned his thoughts inward, to things of his childhood, to sights he had seen; gray rats chasing a man; an empty cradle in an empty hut; Marva sweet in his arms, perfume in her hair.... And his teeth were clenched over his lips. The pain was cruel, relentless. His nails in his palms. Pain and memory to fight sleep!

And he won!

The full white light flashed on. The siren voices died. The promising lights were defeated. He blinked his tired, weighted eyes. And Metas stood there.

"You have not succumbed," the Logician whispered. His face was haggard with strain. "No one has ever resisted hypno."

He turned to one of the Gard: "Bring Aleena." Bitter-eyed he said to Allyn, "Perhaps your consent will come quicker if the medics work on your sister."

"Metas," Allyn strained against his bonds, "if you harm her I will bring the Dome crashing about us."

The Logician leaned forward: "Ah, then you found the weapons of the Originals."

"No, only the power of the York folk...."

"If they are so mighty, why did they not cross the Barrier?"

"They need a vessel." Allyn tried to explain: "It is like transmitting and receiving waves. They will transmit, and through me you will receive super-sonics that will shatter the dome."

Metas laughed.

* * * * *

It was hopeless. Talk would never convince him. The door opened. They brought Aleena in. She started at sight of her brother, and her face went pale. But they pushed her roughly to a table and began to strap her down.

Allyn shut his eyes against the room, shut his ears against sound. He flung open his mind, cancelling all imagery, so the York folk could come through.

"Jon! Jon of York!" Out against the miles he hurled his voiceless plea. Over and over he called.

Gentle tendrils touched his brain. At first it was like a whisper. There were no words. But the whisper grew--grew to crescendo. It pulled at every nerve in his body, used every particle that composed him. He shook with vibrations. His body was a stringed weapon out of which poured wares pitched too high for hearing. He was blind and deaf and mute--an empty vessel from which poured destruction.

He did not know how long he was gone out of the shell of his body. Slowly, gradually, his trembling stilled. Identity settled back inside him. Sound came back. Over and over, the soft sobbing of his name: "Allyn! Allyn!"

Hazily the room came to focus. Vague outlines of a face above him. Featureless, at first. Dark hair, all atumble, dark eyes aglisten with tears. His cheek was wet with her tears.

"Marva," his voice came hardly out of him.

Behind her the Logicians were grouped, white and sick of face.

"You cracked the dome!" Metas' words were hoarse ill past believing.

_Cracked the dome!_

He could have shouted. Had he been free he might have danced. He sent a voiceless thanks to the Redbearded Elder. "We've done it."

His eyes shone. "Now do you believe," he cried aloud, "now will you admit that York folk who could achieve such power could achieve survival. Give us a year," he asked, "a year of grace--a chance to prove they were right."

The room was still.

The answer he asked was past all teachings, past ingrained traditions. Would they consent?

The whispered amongst themselves. Allyn's eyes went to Marva, to Keeven, and to the newly freed Aleena. Their glances on him were wide, troubled and hopeful, anxious and eager. They barely breathed as Metas came away from his group.

"Allyn," he said, "you are a throwback so you would be willing to mate with an Olman. But who amongst us would do likewise?"

"I will!"

The answer, proud and unhesitating, came from Aleena. And her eyes were on Keeven. "I do not find Olmen as bestial as our tales have warned."

Keeven's breath caught. He leaned forward drinking sight of the filmy clad beauty as a wanderer at sight of his home.

Metas made a sign and Allyn smiled.

They had won. He could sleep now, and be well content. For, within the year, a twofold experiment would come to fruition. And a new era of brotherhood would come to earth, bringing the furthest star within the reach of Man.