Like a monster flashing jewel, Plastica hovered over
Neptune. And burning at its heart like the malignant
sparkle of a gem was the blazing hate of millions of
slaves, ready to flare into raging battle at the ringing
tocsin of Vyrl Guerlan, the man without a country.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1944.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The vast globe of transparent plastic, infinitely stronger than themost powerful columbium steel, hung suspended in space, ablaze inbrilliant pyrotechnics of light. And as cold and impersonal as the lawsof the empire it ruled.
Within it was the City of the Inner Circle. Patterned after the Cityof Plastica itself, it rose within the globe in graduated tiers, butunlike Plastica, there were no graduations of caste—they were allProtectors, these scientists of the Inner Circle, and above them ruledthe legendary figure of His Benevolence, the "Protector in Chief."
Six thousand feet below, the turbulent ocean tossed restlessly asif resentful of the awful pressure of the stupendous anti-gravitybeams that kept the glittering sphere in space—sacred, inviolate,invulnerable. Above the ocean's shoreline, set amidst low hills, rosePlastica, entirely enclosed in a shell of the same transparent plastic,and rising tier on tier—each one a small world unto itself, and eachbarred from communication with other tiers. Here the millions toiledand loved and died ... and entered the portals of Blessed Sleep.
In the vast reaches of Neptune, only this continent—Adamic, waslivable, thanks to immense volcanic valleys where constant volcanicactivity of titanic proportions maintained a temperate atmosphere incontrast to the frigid, desolate continents to the north and west. Anddotting the valley of Plastica like transparent beehives, the twelvejewels of the diadem—twelve cities where five million human beingsdwelt in each, formed the empire of sixty million descendants of theoriginal immigrants who chose to follow the Council in their flightfrom Venus.
There was no other sign of man, except among the virgin forests of thevolcanic valleys, where the Irreconcilables who fled the rigid laws ofthe Protectors, carried on a precarious existence, assailed by fiercewild beasts of prey, and hunted for sport with lances and long-swordsby the members of the Inner Circle, and the Scientists of the firstorder. Burdened by the awful gravity of the great planet, and withoutadequate arms to defend themselves, they were doomed quarry.
Within the capital, Plastica, and in each of the twelve cities, eachindividual life had a definite pattern known only to the members ofthe Inner Circle. Any deviation from that pattern brought instantretribution. There was no appeal, for each judgment was based oncold, inexorable law. Ever since the great exodus from Earth, whenthe original Council had fled Terra, and forced colonies on Mars andVenus, and later after their disastrous war with Europa, the Councilitself had been given the alternative of leaving the inner planetsor being executed, the members of the Council had colonized Neptunewith millions who unable to live without the "controls" had chosen toaccompany them into space. As the centuries passed and a new ruler ofthe Council had been elected, changes had occurred in the laws, methodshad been perfected, until now, all Neptune was ruled by the City in theFlaming Sphere, and to the millions in Plastica and the other greatcities, the Protectors (as they now styled themselves), had becomelegendary figures. The Law was supreme. And behind the Law, was the"Blessed Sleep."
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