He nodded. "Mine. She's Earth-built—one of the last battle cruisers ever built in an Earth yard. Ships like this aren't made any more—even though she's four thousand objective years old. Come, let's look at her."
As we approached, I could see the ship was enormous. It rose over our heads like some great campanile tower, yet despite its size there was an air of subtle refinement about the mass, an impression almost of delicacy—as though it had been tenderly and carefully constructed by men who loved their work. Each part was beautifully finished and perfectly machined, and the diamond-hard non-corrosive metal gleamed in the golden sunlight. And despite its huge size and absurdly tiny jets, it looked fast!
"It's big enough to move an entire city!" I gasped.
"She has a crew of five—and capacity for fifty marines," Wolverton replied.
"All that size—but—"
"Most of it is taken up with weapons systems," he said. "I could utterly destroy a planet of this size with her weapons. She'll travel at Lume One as long as you care to drive her—or she'll go clear up to ultra band in hyperspace. She's the fastest, deadliest thing in this sector—beautiful—isn't she?" He talked as though the ship was a woman—a woman he loved.
"I wanted you to see her," he pointed at the ship, "so that you will know exactly what I mean when I offer you freedom such as you have never known. With this ship we can do anything—go anywhere. Time means nothing—hours in hyperspace—years in normal spacetime. I'm offering you the Universe if you join with me to work and save—to keep men from following the old paths to racial destruction." His voice, eyes, and entire body were tense. Conviction flowed from him in smothering waves. I had never really felt the power of the man and I was shaken. Shaken and unsure. For the Word seemed oddly weak in the presence of this titanic ship and the equally titanic man who owned it. I could not explain the feelings that surged inside me—missionary to the human race—freedom from worldly bounds—greed for life and knowledge—weariness and surrender to Wolverton's endless urging—all were there, but there was more than that. I kept looking up at the ship, my head whirling from the dizzying sweep of her—her beauty and power filling my eyes. My heart soared with her soaring lines. I felt quite enthralled—uplifted—caught in a force greater than my will. Now—suddenly I knew why Wolverton spoke of the ship with such passion in his voice. It must have shown in my eyes for a great gladness lighted his. "I will join you," I said in a small voice—and inside me something died as soon as I had spoken. I had the hollow feeling I had lost my soul.
"I will not ask you to swear," he said with odd gentleness. "I have pushed you far enough. Let us go to the laboratory and remove that ring and restore your powers."
A voice inside me spoke sluggishly. "Fight fire with fire—craft with craft," it said. "Strike down the Evil doer with his own spear," but the voice was weak. I followed Wolverton and as I walked the voice became stronger. "And the Father of Evil took Zard to the top of Mount Karat, and from this high place he offered the world and eternal life if Zard would fall down and worship him. And Zard refused." I shook my head. I had promised—but what was a promise when it involved the Father of Evil. To slay him, one could promise anything, and yet receive absolution.
The ring was removed from my neck, and with its removal awareness flowed into me. I was whole again! I could see as only an Adept knew how to see. I turned to Wolverton with pleasure in my eyes, and as I looked at him I stiffened with shock!