Part 2

He was ten feet high when he started to fall. With a bone-breaking, body-jarring thud, the Dreamer fell. Hard.

There was a split second of startled silence in the Dreaming Room. The silence went. Voices came.

"Who did that?"

"What happened?"

"That human hidden there did it! He broke the Dreaming!" Anger marked the voices. Although the language was Venusian, Johnson got most of the meaning. His hand dived under his coat for the gun holstered there. At his left, Caldwell was muttering thickly. "What--what happened? I was back in the lab on Earth--" Caldwell's voice held a plaintive note, as if some pleasant dream had been interrupted.

On Johnson's right, Vee Vee seemed to flow to life. Her arms came up around his neck. He was instantly prepared for anything. Her lips came hungrily against his lips, pressed very hard, then gently drew away.

"What--" he gasped.

"I had to do it now, darling," she answered. "There may not be a later."

Johnson had no time to ask her what she meant. Somewhere in the back of the room a human screamed. He jerked around. Back there a knot of Venusians were attacking a man.

"It's Martin!" Caldwell shouted. "He _is_ here!"

In Johnson's hand as he came to his feet the zit gun throbbed. He fired blindly at the mass of Venusians. Caldwell was firing too. The soft throb of the guns was not audible above the uproar from the crowd. Struck by the gas-driven corvel charges, Venusians were falling. But there seemed to be an endless number of them.

"Vee Vee?" Johnson suddenly realized that she had disappeared. She had slid out of his sight.

"Vee Vee!" Johnson's voice became a shout.

"To hell with the woman!" Caldwell grunted. "Martin's the important one."

Zit, zit, zit, Caldwell moved toward the rear, shooting as he went. Johnson followed.

* * * * *

A voice boomed through the room, in Venusian. "Let movement stop!"

At the sound of that voice the Venusians stopped all motion.

Again the voice boomed through the room.

"Bring the human to me."

The voice came from Unger.

The knot of Venusians around the human came back to life. A knife flashed.

"Bring him to me unharmed!" Unger boomed.

The knife went hastily out of sight. The knot of Venusians came untangled. They carried a struggling human down the ramps toward the bottom of the pit.

"It's Martin!" Caldwell shouted. "Let's knock these Venusians over, grab him, and break for the door."

"Hold it," Johnson said. "It may not be that easy. We will go with them to Unger."

Carrying Martin to the bottom of the pit, the Venusians set him on his feet. Martin was tall, dark-haired, a slender length of living, nervous whipcord. His hair was tousled, his clothing torn. As Martin came to his feet, Johnson saw that blood was running down one side of his face.

Unger was standing erect. His 300 pounds radiated anger, rage, hate.

"Dreamer, he had a thing which the humans call a camera or a recorder." The speaker, an elderly Venusian, was outraged. He jerked a knife from its scabbard. "Dreamer, allow me the privilege of slitting his throat!" He held the knife high, awaiting only the signal to plunge it into Martin's neck.

A fierce throb of anger seemed to flow through the Room of the Dreaming.

"All things in their time," Unger said. "Do you hold your knife for now."

The fingers of the Venusian trembled as he slipped the knife back into its scabbard.

"Dreamer, I obey. But remember, when the time comes, the privilege is mine. I spoke first!" Hot anger sounded in the Venusian's voice.

"It will be remembered, Taldero," Unger said. He lifted his gaze. "Bring me this camera, this thing that the human was using."

A Venusian carried the camera down the steps and handed it to Unger. While the Venusians had never denied humans entry to the dreaming rooms, any kind of a camera or other recording device had always been strictly forbidden. Neither argument, persuasion nor offers of payment had ever moved a Dreamer to permit the recording of a dream performance. Under his breath, Johnson cursed. The recorder was evidence that could not be denied. "The fool!" Johnson cursed.

Unger took the device and examined it.

"Hmmmm." His eyes sought Martin. "This is not only a camera, it is a very complex and compact recording device designed to make a permanent record of the sights, sounds, and many of the other vibratory frequencies present in this room."

"Well--" Martin said.

"There is no point in attempting to deny it. The object speaks for itself. Why did you bring this recording device into the Room of the Dreaming?" Unger's words were hard and cold.

"No excuse!" Martin's words were hot. "Just a single question: Why are they forbidden in these rooms?"

"Why?" Unger's voice suddenly lost its certainty.

Martin's voice continued. "Why have you kept this information from us humans? Is it because these Dreaming Rooms, and the act of dreaming as practiced by you Venusians, is nothing but a hypnotic device, a trick used to cheat fools of their money?"

"It--"

"Fraud!" Martin shouted. The word seemed to roar through the room.

Unger lost his poise. The Venusian seemed to writhe, to squirm, to twist as if some unseen and invisible force was torturing him.

Johnson moved forward. Caldwell went with them. Martin saw them for the first time.

"Johnny! Caldwell! Where did you come from?"

Johnson's eyes were centered on Unger. The zit gun in his hand was poised and aimed at the eyes of the Venusian.

"If anyone makes a move toward us, the charge in this gun will go into your eyes," Johnson said. "I suppose you know that under such circumstances the charge from a zit gun will kill."

Unger stopped his squirming. He seemed suddenly to realize that other humans were present. His round, impassive face turned toward Johnson.

"Ah, yes, you," he said.

"Call off your dogs," Johnson said. "Tell these people to permit us to leave."

"But--"

"You look at death, Dreamer!"

"I know that. Death is not important. Have you considered that these dogs are really wolves who will tear you to pieces at my nod?" Unger's shifting gaze indicated the other Venusians in the room. Out of the corners of his eyes Johnson saw that Taldero had drawn his knife again. Others were moving like jungle cats getting ready to pounce.

"True, you can have your wolves kill us," Johnson said. "But our deaths will follow yours, not precede it."

His voice was clear and firm. If there was fear in him it was out of sight. He did not know how much most of the Venusians were understanding of what he was saying but one thing they certainly understood--the zit gun in his hand.

"We are going out of here," Johnson said. "You are going with us as a hostage. Our lives for your life."

Unger lifted his hand. "One minute, if you please. There are questions I want to ask. Who is this man?" He gestured toward Martin.

"A very renowned human scientist."

"Ah, and what is he doing on Venus?"

"Don't tell him!" Caldwell spoke sharply. "It's none of his business."

"It might be some of my business if I knew," Unger said.

Warning voices were urging Johnson away from this place, screaming at him to get away while he had the chance. Inside of him, tiny voices were shouting warnings, his skin was reporting sweat again, his brain was reporting the pressure of an emotional overload. Inside of him was still another voice insisting that here he dealt with illusion and hallucination, shouting at him, "You saw a space ship where no space ship could exist! In this place how can you determine reality?"

* * * * *

The expression on the face of the Venusian was very strange but it was some kind of a smile. Seeing it, Johnson hesitated, spoke impulsively. "We three are a group of human scientists who have come to Venus to ..." he hesitated.

"Damn it, Johnny!" Caldwell gritted.

"Tell him, Johnny," Martin spoke. "There may be more involved in telling him than we know. The recordings will tell."

"We came here to investigate the dreaming," Johnson spoke.

"Ah," Unger said. Shades of feelings played across his face. "You are the three humans who came asking about the dreaming! I have heard of you."

"We asked for information, knowledge, understanding," Johnson's voice got hard again. "We sought these things. What did we get?"

"You asked for bread and we dreamers gave you a stone," Unger spoke.

"What?" Johnson gasped. The shift to a religious framework startled him. He had not thought that a Venusian understood such things.

"Perhaps the stone we gave you was more palatable than the bread you asked for," Unger continued.

"But--"

"However, when your request was denied, you did not stop seeking?" Unger asked.

"Of course not! We don't belong to a race that stops seeking. We sought other ways to get the information."

"Is the information important to you?"

"Yes."

"What luck did you have with the other ways?"

Johnson shook his head. Bitterness came up in him. "None. The Dreaming Rooms were everywhere, the Dreamers were a group apart. The Dreamers would not talk. No other Venusian ever admitted knowing anything."

"And so--"

"One of us, the most impetuous and perhaps the most brilliant of us, became impatient." Imperceptibly Johnson nodded toward Martin. "We knew there was danger in the Dreaming Rooms. He ignored that danger. He slipped away from us. I think perhaps he hid from us to protect us from the danger he intended to face. We discovered that possibly he had come here tonight. We did not know for sure that he was here until a Venusian discovered the recorder in operation."

Martin stepped forward and took the recorder from Unger's hands. The Venusian released it without reluctance.

"So you came here tonight to find and help a friend?" Unger said.

"Yes. He is impetuous and impatient. He wants answers."

"And I've got 'em right here." Martin clutched the recorder in a tighter grip. "Let's get out of this joint. I want to see what these wires have on them. Come on, Johnny. You cover that Dreamer and we will take him with us--"

"One instant more," Unger spoke. "What was the vision that you saw?" He addressed Johnson.

"A--"

"Eeeeeeeh!" A woman's scream ripped through the room. Martin and Caldwell both turned. Johnson did not move. He kept his eyes rigidly fixed on Unger. The Venusian stood in the bright glare from the spot, glanced toward the source of the scream.

"Bring the human forward unharmed," Unger spoke.

Fighting, scratching, clawing, doing everything but spit and she would have done that if she had had the chance, Vee Vee was dragged forward. Johnson still did not move. Neither his gaze nor the focus of the zit gun ever left Unger's face. Out of the corners of his eyes he saw Martin leap forward.

"Vee Vee!" Martin screamed. "What in the devil are you doing here? What the hell are you doing on Venus?"

Out of the corners of his eyes, Johnson saw Vee Vee flow into Martin's arms. "Hank, Hank, darling, I came by the last rocket. I've been looking everywhere for you." Her arms were around Martin's neck and she was kissing him wildly. "I learned you might be here and I came here looking for you. When they caught you, I tried to escape and go for help. I couldn't get out. They caught me too, Hank." Again she kissed him.

The word, "Hank," rang through Johnson's mind like a bell. Very few people knew Martin's nickname. He was very sensitive about this name, it was his most carefully guarded secret, known only to friends intimate enough not to use it. If Vee Vee knew Martin's carefully guarded name.

"Oh, hell!" Something inside Johnson said. "Damn!"

He glanced at the two, to make certain of what he was seeing out of the corners of his eyes. The instant after he shifted his gaze he knew it was not the thing to do. He swung quickly back to look at Unger.

The circle of light was empty.

Unger had vanished.

In the silence, Johnson could hear Venusian feet drawing closer, the soft rustle of knives being pulled from scabbards.

IV

Johnson stood without moving and stared at the empty circle of light.

His eyes insisted. "He is not there. We looked away for a moment and when we looked back he was gone."

The corners of his eyes said, "We caught a glimpse of something...."

"What was it you glimpsed?"

"We ... we are not certain ... we think...."

The human could not wait to get the message from the corners of his eyes. Steps were driving forward. He whirled in time to see Taldero lunging at him. A naked knife glittered in the Venusian's uplifted hand. Taldero's face was a gleaming mask of triumph. The Venusian was already relishing the good feeling he would get from sinking his knife up to the hilt in this human's throat. Men were interlopers on Venus, space creatures to be destroyed, vermin that no honest Venusian could accept.

Johnson dropped the zit gun. There was no time to use it. In this moment it was only in his way. One hand caught the uplifted arm. His body met Taldero's body. He was rocked backward by the fury of that charge. He caught himself. The other hand sought Taldero's body. The Venusian gasped with pain as the Karmer nerve block was forced home. He shuddered and went limp. The knife fell from his fingers. Johnson shoved him backward against another Venusian. From the floor he snatched the gun and the knife.

He could hear Caldwell's gun spitting. A semi-circle of Venusians were pressing toward the three humans. Caldwell was holding them back. Martin, unarmed, was clutching the recorder. Vee Vee stood in front of him like some amazon preparing to do battle for her mate.

"Vee Vee! Catch!" She turned startled eyes toward Johnson in time to snatch the gun he threw to her.

"But what will you do--"

"I've still got Taldero's knife. Back up against the back wall and try to hold them at bay. I think I know something."

Johnson dived through the spotlight. The wall behind the light was decorated with a mural, a spot on Venus where the sun was breaking through clouds and illumining a vast, rain-swept valley. On Venus, where they saw the sun but rarely, the sight of Sol was considered about the same as a glimpse of heaven. He felt along the mural. The corners of his eyes insisted, "He went this way." His searching fingers found a spot, pushed against it. A section of the wall slid soundlessly away.

Sitting in a soft chair in the hidden room revealed there, Unger looked calmly at him.

"You saw me go?" Unger said. "You are very, very seeing. No Venusian and up until now no human has ever seen an adept move. We have a rule about it...."

"A part of my eyes saw you move and recorded the impression," Johnson stepped into the room. In his hand, the knife blade glittered. "Life ticks away very rapidly here tonight." He gestured outward where the screams of the Venusians mingled with the throb of the guns. "Call off your wolves or life will stop ticking for you."

Unger seemed utterly unperturbed by the sight of the knife or the man behind it. "They are not my wolves," he said. "I do not know that I can call them off but perhaps I can hold them at bay for a while." He rose with the easy grace of an athlete and moved to the opening.

Out there three humans were backing against the wall. Johnson did not look at them. This time he would not take his eyes off Unger.

"Peace!" The Dreamer's voice was practically a roar.

The Venusians pressing close against the three humans hesitated. In the distance a voice screamed, "I saw you--"

"Inside here, you humans," Unger spoke quickly.

Vee Vee, Martin, and Caldwell slid through the opening. Unger slammed the door, dropped a bar across it. Looking at him, Johnson saw that the Venusian was sweating.

The humans were panting. Vee Vee looked at Johnson. Her eyes glowed. "Johnny! You did it!" Johnson looked away.

Martin stared around the room. "So this is the trick!" He spat out the words. "They distract your attention, then they jump into this hole. It's just a matter of moving very rapidly. Probably they spend years learning it and think they have something very important when they master it." Bitter disappointment sounded in Martin's voice. He seemed to have forgotten the death they had so narrowly missed outside. He lifted the recorder as if he intended to smash it on the floor.

Unger caught it, took it from the human. "I thought you wanted to see what went on inside the Room of the Dreaming."

"I did, but I didn't think it was fraud. I sensed that something important was here." Martin's voice was the voice of a man who has lost a dream.

"Why don't you look at the recording?"

"To hell with the recording. It will only show more fraud."

"But--"

"I say to hell with it too!" Caldwell interrupted. "Our necks come first. Let's get out of here. Johnny--"

"Just a moment," Johnson said. Sweat was now visible on Unger's face, glistening in heavy yellow drops.

"Why don't you see the recording?" Unger urged. From the angle in which his head was held, Johnson had the impression the Dreamer was listening. The human listened too. He could hear no sound unless it was a thin mumble of voices beyond the barred door.

"The recorder is also a projector on the sound and visual tracks, is it not?" Unger asked.

"Yes," Martin's voice was sullen.

"Then shall we take a few minutes and see what the recorder caught in the Room of the Dreaming?" Without waiting for an answer he snapped the switches that rewound the wires and began to set up the recorder to function as a projector. "We will project the visual part against the wall there and listen to the sound. The other radiations you have caught will need extensive laboratory equipment to interpret."

"You seem to know a lot about this!" Martin challenged.

"Do I? Ah...." Watching him handle the recorder Johnson had the impression that the Venusian had never seen one of these instruments but was swiftly grasping the meaning of the various dials and switches as he came to them. If this was true, it was a marvelous mental feat. Wonder rose in Johnson. But his eyes never left Unger and his hand did not relax its grip on Taldero's knife.

"Watch," Unger said.

* * * * *

A jet of light from the self-contained unit sprang out through the lens, flashing against the wall. Unger gestured toward it. "Watch," he repeated.

"I'm watching you," Johnson said.

"Suspicious?"

"Don't I have a right to be?"

The question went unanswered. Music from the sound track throbbed in the small room. The scene on the wall revealed Unger stretched flat on the mat.

"Damned fraud!" Martin muttered.

Vee Vee moved close to Johnson. Her whisper was very soft. "I wonder if we will see the dreams again?"

"I do not know. I am watching the Dreamer."

"Yes. I know." She moved closer still. Her voice was even softer. "Darling."

"Shut up!"

She shrank away from him. He was aware that her eyes were on him. Suddenly she laughed, softly. "Oh, good! You're jealous."

Had she read his mind? "I am not jealous. Shut up. This is no time for talk."

In spite of what he said she moved closer. Under his breath he swore at her.

In the distance he seemed to catch the mutter of shouted voices. "I tell you I saw him!" one voice screamed.

"Look!" Wild excitement was in Martin's tone. "Look! He _is_ floating."

Johnson felt his heart beat pick up.

The projected scene revealed that Unger was actually floating.

"If the recorder caught it like that it actually happened that way!" Martin screamed. "You can't hypnotize a recorder."

But was it real? Was the Dreamer really floating? Desperately Johnson wanted to see with all his eyes.

"We will watch Unger for you," the corners of his eyes whispered.

Johnson dared to look at the projected picture. There was no mistaking the evidence. The Dreamer was floating. No wires lifted him. The recorder would have caught wires.

"This floating is no fraud," Unger said softly. "We Dreamers know and manipulate and use forces--"

"Anti-gravity!" Martin screamed. "With anti-gravity comes ships to the stars!"

"We Dreamers know certain forces, certain energy states, which we manipulate--"

Crash!

The door went down. The bar was torn from its sockets by the sudden pressure applied against it. Through the opening a knife came, crashed against the wall. Then another and another.

In Vee Vee's and Caldwell's hands the zit guns throbbed. Venusians stumbled through the doorway.

"This way," Unger said, moving toward the farther wall.

Martin snatched the recorder from the table and turned the light beam on a Venusian trying to get through the door. He dodged backward. From the Room of the Dreaming a babble of angry voices arose.

"This way," Unger repeated. The door was open in the farther wall. The humans dived through it. Unger closed it and followed them.

They found themselves in darkness. Martin turned the recorder on it. The light from it revealed a tunnel. Unger moved forward. "Follow, please."

"These Dreamers do know something," Martin was babbling to Johnson. "They have latched on to vital secrets of nature. I don't know what else they've got but that secret of floating is...."

"There are many secrets," Unger said as he moved ahead of them. "In the last analysis perhaps there is only one secret, one energy, but this energy takes many forms."

"How do you do this dreaming?" Martin questioned.

"It is a very complex process," Unger answered. "The music and the perfume are part of it. But we, the Dreamers, are the heart and the core and the soul of it. What you call hypnosis is involved in part. We Dreamers reach the minds of our audience. We bring up to the level of awareness the most cherished dream of those who are in rapport with us. We Dreamers see, feel, and share in the dreaming of our audience. To some extent we direct their dreaming. They have no comprehension of what is involved. To them the Dreaming is a sacred thing. The Dreamers are minor gods."

"But how do you float?" Martin repeated.

"We take the force which you call gravity. It is an energy state. We tap this energy to reach the minds of our audience, to control and to come into rapport with them." The Venusian's breath was coming in gasps.

"Yes. Go on." Martin was the hound on the scent of prey, the eager scientist following the clue no matter where it lead, knowing there was an answer and determined to have that answer no matter the cost.

Unger stopped. A door was ahead. He fumbled with a catch. The door swung open.

Rain and the darkness of the night swept through the opening. In the far distance lightning walked across the sky. Outside was the streets of the city.

"Seek safety!" Unger's voice was hoarse. "It will perhaps be better if you leave Venus. I warn you fairly, my people are wolves. They hold the dreaming sacred. Sometimes they hold the Dreamers sacred. But if they think you have stolen the secrets of the dreaming--Well, it would be better for you for wolves to tear you to pieces than it would be for my people to catch you." He leaned against the open door.

"But the secret of the floating?" Martin insisted.

"You have it on your recorder." Unger answered. "It is a matter of frequency, of vibration and interwoven vibration. From the information on your recorder, you can develop the equations you will need. Go."

"Good!" Martin's voice was a shout of exultation rising in the dark night.

"My people will soon be searching the streets. Go."

Martin and Caldwell went quickly through the opening. Johnson hesitated. "Unger ... Dreamer...." He sought for words. "You ... you're a great guy."

The Venusian's hand came to his arm. Vee Vee stood very close, watching, waiting, though Martin had already gone.

"Thank you, my friend," Unger whispered. "I accept your words and the meaning that is behind them."

"I...." Johnson's voice choked into silence. Here was a great Venusian and he knew it, a Dreamer whose dream went beyond race, beyond space, perhaps beyond time.

"Come with us," Johnson said. "Come to Earth with us."