The Spider Lord said: “Is there any reason why I should not pass the sentence of death?”
After another silence, the captain replied: “I would regard the death sentence as an injustice.”
“Why?”
“Because the fault was unintentional. We began by eating humans who had already been destroyed.” (The spider thought-language made no distinction between “paralyzed” and “destroyed.”)
“We realize that. But you then went on to break the law by killing those who had not yet been destroyed.”
“It is true that I broke your law. But it was not the law of my own country, the land of Koresh.”
At this point, Dravig intervened. “You are in this country, not in Koresh, and are therefore obliged to obey our laws. Are you trying to deny this?” Dravig’s voice had a note of anger.
The captain’s reply sounded cool and unemotional. “I do not deny it. But I submit that this particular law is unfair.”
“Why?” The Spider Lord’s voice also betrayed a note of anger.
“I am a stranger in your land. You have no right to ask me to treat human beings as equals. I do not regard them as equals. Moreover, I do not believe you regard them as equals.”
Niall was suddenly struck by an astonishing insight. Spider justice differed from human justice in one basic respect. A spider could not be sentenced to death against his will. If he was to be executed, it had to be with his own total consent. The reason was obvious. If a spider was executed against his will, every other spider in the city would be aware of his misery and agony. Therefore, it was necessary for a spider to be convinced of his own guilt, and to consent to his own execution. The captain, apparently, was determined not to die. This, Niall now realized, was why Dravig and the Spider Lord were becoming angry.
But when the Spider Lord replied, it was with remarkable restraint. “All that is irrelevant. I gave my word that there should be peace between spiders and human beings. You have caused that promise to be broken. Therefore you deserve to die.”
This argument was obviously irrefutable; in effect, the captain had now been driven into a corner. Surely he would at last concede the justice of the sentence?
“I agree that I have been the cause of your promise being broken. But I argue that there are extenuating circumstances.”
The Spider Lord addressed the other five prisoners. “Do you agree that you deserve to die?”
All five made a gesture that signified assent.
The Spider Lord asked: “Well?”
“I see no reason why my life should be sacrificed to the will of cowards.”
The Spider Lord suddenly lost patience. “That is enough! I am tired of your equivocations! You have deserved death a thousand times. Bow your head!”
This last sentence — it could also have been translated “Subordinate your will” or “Prepare to die” — was spoken in a tone of such menace that the room suddenly seemed to darken. The five NCOs obeyed immediately and abjectly, as if bowing their heads to the executioner’s ax. But the captain, although he knew himself to be in an impossible situation, continued to radiate defiance. The Spider Lord and Dravig struck at once with a force that made Niall cringe; a human being would have been squashed like a fly. The captain collapsed to the ground, and lay there, his legs drawn around him in a tight knot; at the same time, his will also collapsed into a defensive posture, surrounding him with a shield of invisible force. The combined strength of Dravig and the Death Lord struck this shield with a force that should have smashed it and crushed the spider underneath it. In fact, it rebounded onto the other five spiders, killing them instantly. There was a crunching sound, and the air was suddenly full of the peculiar pungent odor of spider blood.
Niall felt them die. It was a strange sensation, as if time had suddenly gone into slow motion. His brain was flooded with information — so much information that it was impossible to absorb it, or even grasp its nature. Nevertheless, he knew intuitively what was happening: that in the moment of instantaneous extinction, the spiders were reliving their own lives. The experience was curiously exciting, and completely devoid of the terror he had expected to be associated with death. Then, what seemed to be several minutes later, there was only darkness and a sensation of emptiness.
The captain was still lying there, surrounded by his defensive shield; it was obvious that he had no intention of dropping his guard. All his will was concentrated upon a single purpose: to save his own life. In the pause that followed, the Spider Lord regarded him with angry contempt; he found it unbelievable that any spider should prefer ignominy and disgrace to an honorable death. Then he summoned the others to join with him in the work of destruction. This meant that he and his ruling council would cease to act as individuals, but would unite their efforts in a common purpose. This stratagem — known to the beetle servants as multiple-reinforcement interaction — could be compared to the decision of a group who had been trying to batter down a door by individual efforts to unite their strength behind a battering ram.
The captain sensed what was about to happen, and his fear was so powerful that it overwhelmed the bitter stench of blood. Yet even his terror had an element of calculation. Since its vibrations were being carried simultaneously to every spider in the city, they had all become witnesses of this attempt to destroy him. He was like a man screaming at the top of his lungs in order to mitigate the severity of a beating. But as the multiple reinforcement mechanism began to operate, the terror became muted as it gave way to a grim determination to survive. Niall watched with sickened fascination as the captain exerted all his own will power in an attempt to preserve his life for a few moments longer. He could understand that terror of sudden extinction — as could every spider in the city. The interlinked will power of the spiders was like some giant nutcracker; it seemed impossible that any living creature could withstand such force. Even the corpses of the other spiders were caught in the mesh of power, so they began to crack and crumble, while their blood ran over the floor like water squeezed from a sponge. The captain’s mind was also cracking under the pressure, and Niall experienced again the sense of being overwhelmed with information — that curious flood of images that seemed to accompany the conviction of approaching death. The most vivid of these was of a square, gray building surrounded by rich vegetation, including red and yellow tropical flowers. But the inside smelled like a butcher’s shop, and from the beams that supported the ceiling, a number of human bodies cocooned in spider silk swung like pendulums in the breeze.
It was as the blood began to run around his own feet that Niall suddenly understood why this united will-force had not yet destroyed the captain’s resistance. It was because he, Niall, was present in the room, thereby inhibiting the Spider Lord from exerting the power that could overwhelm resistance through brute force. Such an explosion of power might well have cracked the walls of the room in which they were standing; it would certainly have squeezed the life out of Niall at the same time as it destroyed the captain. There was only one way in which Niall could cease to be an obstruction: by uniting his own will with that of the Spider Lord, so that his will became a part of the web of power. Yet even as this thought occurred to him, he was aware that it was out of the question. He was a human being, not a spider. The captain might be a sadistic coward who enjoyed torturing Niall’s fellow humans; but Niall had no personal quarrel with him. If he took part in this execution, he would be somehow forfeiting his own humanity.
The struggle seemed to continue for a long time; in fact, it might have been minutes, or even seconds. At a certain point, it became clear that the captain had won his fight for life. Without Niall’s participation, he could not be destroyed. At that moment, the Spider Lord suddenly released his grip; Dravig and the others did so at the same time. The result was that the captain spun across the room like a projectile, narrowly missing Niall’s legs, and crashed into the wall. The force of the impact was enough to deprive him of his senses. But instead of taking advantage of his helplessness, the Spider Lord merely regarded him with contempt. Several minutes passed as the prostrate spider stirred; then, as if knowing the danger was past, he struggled slowly to his feet.