Cities in Flight

Another dud. Personal control was out of the question at this speed, for no human pilot, not even Amalfi, had reflexes fast enough to handle Hern VI directly. It was precisely because he wanted to be able to handle the planet directly for a second or so of its flight that he wanted the trepidation introduced; and even then he would be none too sure of his ability to make the one critical, razor-edged alteration in her course which he knew he would need.

“Carrel? Come up here, will you?”

The boy arrived almost instantly. On the balcony, he watched the hurtling passage of stars with what Amalfi suspected was sternly repressed alarm.

“Carrel, you began with us as an interpreter, didn’t you? You must have had frequent occasion to use a voice-writer, then.”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“Good. Then you’ll remember what happens when the carriage of the machine returns and spaces for another line. It brakes a little in the middle of the return, so it won’t deform the carriage stop by constantly slamming into it; isn’t that right? Well, what I want to know is: How is that done?”

“On a small machine, the return cable is on a cam instead of a pulley,” Carrel said, frowning. “But the big multiplex machines that we use at conclaves are electronically controlled by something called a klystron; how that works, I’ve no idea.”

“Find out,” Amalfi said. “Thanks, Carrel, that’s just what I was looking for. I want such an apparatus cut into our present piloting circuit, so as to give us the maximum braking effect as we cross Earth’s solar system that’s compatible with our arriving at the cloud on time. Can it be done?”

“Yes, sir, that sounds fairly easy.” He went below without being dismissed; a second later, a swollen and spotted red giant sun skimmed the city, seemingly by inches.

The phone buzzed. “Mr. Mayor—O’Brian here. The cities are coming up on Earth. Shall I put you through?”

Amalfi started. Already? The city was still megaparsecs away from the rendezvous; it was literally impossible to conceive of any speed which would make arrival on time possible. The mayor suddenly began to find the subway-pillar flashing of the stars reassuring.

“Yes, O’Brian, hook up the big helmet and stand by. Give me full Dirac on all circuits, and have our alternate course ready to plug in. Has Mr. Carrel gotten in touch with you yet?”

“No, sir,” the pilot said. “But there’s been some activity from the City Fathers in the piloting banks which I assumed was by your orders or one of the city manager’s. Apparently we’re to be out of computer control at opposition.”

“That’s right. Okay, O’Brian, put me through.” Amalfi donned the big helmet…

… and was back in the jungle.

The entire pack of cities, decelerating heavily now, was entering the “local group”—an arbitrary sphere with a radius of fifty light years, with Earth’s sun at its center. This was the galaxy’s center of population still, despite the outward movement which had taken place for the past centuries, and the challenges which were now ringing around the heads of the Okies were like voices from history: 40 Eridani, Procyon, Kruger 60, Sirius, 61 Cygni, Altair, RD-4°4048, Wolf 359, Alpha Centauri … to hear occasionally from Earth itself was no novelty, but these challenges were almost like being hailed by ancient Greece or the Commonwealth of Massachusetts.

The jungle King had succeeded by now in drumming the hobo cities into a roughly military formation: a huge cone, eighteen million miles along its axis. The cone was pointed by smaller towns unlikely to possess more than purely defensive armament. Just behind the point, which was actually rounded into a paraboloid like the head of a comet, the largest cities rode in the body of the cone. These included the King’s own town, but did not include the “newcomer,” which, despite its size, was flying far behind, roughly on the rim of the cone—it was this positioning which made it possible for Amalfi’s drone to see almost the entire cone in the first place, for O’Brian’s orders were to keep the big sphere in view regardless of how much of the jungle he had to sacrifice.

The main wall of the cone was made up mostly of medium-sized heavy-duty cities, again unlikely to be heavily armed, but having the advantage of mounting spindizzy equipment which could be polarized to virtual opacity to any attack but that of a battleship.

All in all, Amalfi thought, a sensible organization of the materials at hand. It suggested power in reserve, plus considerable defensive ability, without at the same time advertising any immediate intention to attack.

He settled the heavy viewing helmet more comfortably on his shoulders and laid one hand on the balcony railing near the space stick. Simultaneously, a voice rang in his ears.

“Earth Security Center calling the Cities,” the voice said heavily. “You are ordered to kill your velocity and remain where you are pending an official investigation of your claims.”

“Not bloody likely,” the King’s voice said.