Last Enemy | Page 7

Assassins, and the like. It would naturally color their political thinking,
because politics is nothing but common action to secure more favorable living conditions,
and to these people, the term 'living conditions' includes not only the present life, but also
an indefinite number of future lives as well. I find this title, 'Independent' Institute,
suggestive. Independent of what? Possibly of partisan affiliation."
"But wouldn't these people be grateful to her for her new discoveries, which would
enable them to plan their future reincarnations more intelligently?" Tortha Karf asked.
"Oh, chief!" Verkan Vall reproached. "You know better than that! How many times have
our people got in trouble on other time-lines because they divulged some useful scientific
fact that conflicted with the locally revered nonsense? You show me ten men who cherish
some religious doctrine or political ideology, and I'll show you nine men whose minds
are utterly impervious to any factual evidence which contradicts their beliefs, and who
regard the producer of such evidence as a criminal who ought to be suppressed. For
instance, on the Fourth Level Europo-American Sector, where I was just working, there is
a political sect, the Communists, who, in the territory under their control, forbid the
teaching of certain well-established facts of genetics and heredity, because those facts do
not fit the world-picture demanded by their political doctrines. And on the same sector, a
religious sect recently tried, in some sections successfully, to outlaw the teaching of
evolution by natural selection."
Tortha Karf nodded. "I remember some stories my grandfather told me, about his narrow
escapes from an organization called the Holy Inquisition, when he was a paratime trader
on the Fourth Level, about four hundred years ago. I believe that thing's still operating,
on the Europo-American Sector, under the name of the NKVD. So you think Dalla may
have proven something that conflicted with local reincarnation theories, and somebody
who had a vested interest in maintaining those theories is trying to stop her?"
"You spoke of a controversy over the communication alleged to have originated with this
voluntarily discarnated nobleman. That would suggest a difference of opinion on the

manner of nature of reincarnation or the discarnate state. This difference may mark the
dividing line between the different political parties. Now, to get to this Darsh place, do I
have to go to Venus, as Dalla did?"
"No. The Outtime Trading Corporation has transposition facilities at Ravvanan, on the
Nile, which is spatially co-existent with the city of Ghamma on the Akor-Neb Sector,
where Zortan Brend is. You transpose through there, and Zortan Brend will furnish you
transportation to Darsh. It'll take you about two days, here, getting your hypno-mech
indoctrinations and having your skin pigmented, and your hair turned black. I'll notify
Zortan Brend at once that you're coming through. Is there anything special you'll want?"
"Why, I'll want an abstract of the reports Dalla sent back to Rhogom Foundation. It's
likely that there is some clue among them as to whom her discoveries may have
antagonized. I'm going to be a Venusian zerfa-planter, a friend of her father's; I'll want
full hypno-mech indoctrination to enable me to play that part. And I'll want to familiarize
myself with Akor-Neb weapons and combat techniques. I think that will be all, chief."
* * * * *
The last of the tall city-units of Ghamma were sliding out of sight as the ship passed over
them--shaft-like buildings that rose two or three thousand feet above the ground in
clumps of three or four or six, one at each corner of the landing stages set in series
between them. Each of these units stood in the middle of a wooded park some five miles
square; no unit was much more or less than twenty miles from its nearest neighbor, and
the land between was the uniform golden-brown of ripening grain, crisscrossed with the
threads of irrigation canals and dotted here and there with sturdy farm-village buildings
and tall, stacklike granaries. There were a few other ships in the air at the
fifty-thousand-foot level, and below, swarms of small airboats darted back and forth on
different levels, depending upon speed and direction. Far ahead, to the northeast, was the
shimmer of the Red Sea and the hazy bulk of Asia Minor beyond.
Verkan Vall--the Lord Virzal of Verkan, temporarily--stood at the glass front of the
observation deck, looking down. He was a different Verkan Vall from the man who had
talked with Tortha Karf in the latter's office, two days before. The First Level
cosmeticists had worked miracles upon him with their art. His skin was a soft
chocolate-brown, now; his hair was jet-black, and so were his eyes. And in his
subconscious mind, instantly available to consciousness, was a vast body of knowledge
about conditions on the