Bailey looked at the defenseless man before him. He lowered the gun, nodded.
"The voice-the dying man, a hundred years from now. It was-is-will be you: Micael Drans. You sent me back to kill yourself before you gave the death order."
"Only a very good man would have done that, William," Aliea said. "Micael Drans is one of the few good men alive in these vicious times. He has to live-to meet the ship, welcome the aliens to our world!"
"Will you do it?" Bailey asked.
"Why-yes. Yes, of course!" Life came back into Drans' face. He turned to his desk, spoke rapidly into an intercom.
Bailey opened his fingers, let the gun fall to the floor. He felt suddenly empty, exhausted. It was all meaningless now, a vista of blown dust, crumbling ashes.
"William-what is it?" Aliea's face wavered before him. "It's all right now. It's over. You did it. We did it."
"A puppet," Bailey said. "That's all I was. I served my purpose. There's nothing left. I'm back where I was."
"Oh no!" Aliea cried. "William, you're wrong, so wrong!"
"For the first time in my life, I had pride, self-respect. I thought it was me who invaded Preke territory and stayed alive, absorbed an education, sweated out the Maxpo treatment. I believed it was me, William Bailey, who faced down the Crusters on their own turf, bluffed them all, took what I wanted, made my way here. But it wasn't. It was him, guiding me every step of the way. And now it's over, and there's nothing left."
Aliea smiled, shaking her head. "No, William. Think, remember! He gave you a mission, true. And one other thing he did: he took away fear. The rest you did yourself."
Bailey frowned at her. "I was like a man in a dream, all those weeks. That complex plan, the twisting and turning, the bluffs and the chances I took-"
"Don't you see? He couldn't have planned it all. He had no way of knowing what would happen, how you should meet what came. It was you, William. Once fear is gone, all things are possible."
"Aliea's right," Micael Drans said. He came around the desk to stand beside them. "There's no way for me to thank you. But in eighteen hours, the Evala ship will take up its orbit beyond Luna-peacefully. There will be much to be done. I'll need help. Will you stay, accept positions on my personal staff?"
"Of course," Aliea said.
"If you really think-if I can be of any use…" Bailey said.
He felt Aliea's hand touch his-felt the touch of her mind, delicate as a blown feather. Together, we'll do it, William.
"Yes," he said. "I'll stay."
We must tell him, Aliea's thought spoke in his mind. Bailey closed his eyes; together they reached out across the void, found him, waiting there in darkness.
Together, they waited for the sound of a new thunder in the skies of Earth.
Afterword
by Eric Flint
It's a bit odd, I suppose, to include "Of Death What Dreams" in a volume consisting of stories dealing with alien contacts with human-which is the "theme" of A Plague of Demons Other Stories. But, since that is technically the point of the story, I decided it was appropriate enough. And, by putting it at the very end, it allowed me in this afterword to segue nicely into the next, upcoming volume in Baen Books' reissue of the writings of Keith Laumer. (The fancy term "segue" being used here, of course, as a slick alternative to "shamelessly promote.")
Yes, technically "Of Death What Dreams" is a story about alien contact. Beneath that superficial crust, however, it's really a type of story-and one of the best-in which Keith Laumer truly excelled: what are usually called "dystopias." The impending arrival of the aliens, after all, only appears in "Of Death What Dreams" in the last of 29 sections. The heart of the story is the hero's adventures through the callous and stratified world dominated by the Crusters.
I am not, as a rule, particularly fond of dystopias. Some of that is simply my own temperament. But, mainly, it's because most authors who write dystopias tend to lose themselves in the setting. The story itself, as a rule, is just a device upon which to hang a distorted universe; it's not so much a story as a contrivance. All of which is another slick and fancy way to avoid saying what I really think, which is this:
Most dystopias, goddamit, are just plain boring.
Keith Laumer is one of the few exceptions. He could spin off dystopias with the best of them-but, with Laumer, the setting rarely if ever takes over the story itself. At the heart of his dystopian tales is the usual full-speed-ahead narrative of which Laumer was the master. What results are stories which, however creepy or disturbing the setting may be, are enjoyable to read-instead of being the literary equivalent of root canal work.
I invite you to test my hypothesis for yourselves. The fifth volume of this reissue of the writings of Keith Laumer will be coming out soon, under the title of Future Imperfect. The book will begin with one of Laumer's classic adventure stories, a novel called Catastrophe Planet (also published under the title The Breaking Earth), in which the hero races across a world fractured by tectonics gone mad in order to save the day. Included also will be a half dozen of Laumer's best shorter works: the long novella "The Day Before Forever" as well as "Cocoon," "Worldmaster," "The Walls," "Founder's Day" and "Placement Test."
You'll have fun. Honest.
THE END
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A Plague of Demons
Table of Contents
A Plague of Demons
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Thunderhead
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
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24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
End as a Hero
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
DOORSTEP
Test to Destruction
The Star-Sent Knaves
1
2
3
4
5
Greylorn
Prologue
1
2
3
Epilogue
Of Death What Dreams
Prologue
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2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
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