Complete Short Fiction (Jerry eBooks)

by James H. Schmitz

  “They brought it up in a car and let it out when we were close enough,” Telzey said. “If it had done the job, they would have knocked it out with stun guns and taken it away again. So it was Toru.”

  “You were thinking it might have been the psis?”

  “It might have been. But if they were controlling it, it would have been moving about under its own power. And they—”

  “What’s that?” The gun was in Trigger’s hand again.

  “Psi stuff,” Telzey said after a moment. “Don’t do anything—it can’t hurt us!”

  Long green tentacles had lifted abruptly out of the earth, enclosing them and the metal box in a writhing ring. The tentacles looked material enough, and there were slapping, slithering sounds when they touched one another.

  There came another sound. It might have been a sighing of the air, a stirring in the treetops above them. At the same time, it seemed to be a voice.

  “Don’t move!” it seemed to be saying. “Don’t move at all! Stay exactly where you are until Dovari tells you what to do . . .”

  Trigger moistened her lips. “All illusions, eh?”

  “Uh-huh—illusions.”

  Someone knew they were here and was manipulating the visual and auditory centers of their brains. Very deftly, too! Telzey held her attention on the thought projections, drifted with them, reached the projecting mind.

  Unscreened, unprotected mind, concentrated on what it was doing, expecting no trouble. She reflected, sent a measured jolt through it. Its awareness abruptly went dim; the illusions were gone.

  Trigger was looking at her. “What did you do?”

  “Knocked out the sender for a little while.”

  “And now?”

  “I don’t know. The psis have discovered us and are taking an interest in us. I’ve let them know I’m a psi who doesn’t want to play games, but I didn’t do their illusionist any real harm when I could have done it. Let’s go on the way we were going. We’ll see what they try next. Better keep that shield good and tight!”

  “It’s tight as it can get,” Trigger assured her. She had no developed psi talents; but she’d been equipped by a psi mind with a shield which was flatly impenetrable when she wanted it that way. They seemed adequately covered for the moment.

  They continued along the path they’d been following. Trigger remained silent, watching the area about them, hand never far from the gun purse. Another sudden onslaught by a loosed arena killer didn’t seem too likely; but the palace grounds almost might have been designed to let danger lurk about unseen.

  Telzey said presently, “They’re probing at us now! Carefully, so far, but I’m picking up a few things.”

  She, too, was being careful. There were at least half a dozen screened telepathic minds involved here—perhaps a few more. They seemed experienced and skilled. The best they weren’t, Telzey thought; they shouldn’t have been quite so readily detectable—though it was possible, of course, that they didn’t much care whether she detected them or not. There was one psi mind around, at any rate, from which she could catch no thought flickering at all, but only the faintest suggestion of a tight shield with a watchful awareness behind it, unnoticeable if she hadn’t been fully alert for just such suggestions.

  That mind seemed highly capable. She concentrated on it, ignoring the others more or less at the moment, prowled lightly about the shielding. Then, for an instant, she caught an impression of the personality it concealed. Her eyes flickered in surprise. That personality was no stranger! Here—on Askanam? But she knew she hadn’t been mistaken.

  She directed a thought at the shield, self-identification accompanying it. “Sams! Sams Larking!”

  A moment’s startled pause, then:

  “Telzey! You’re the one old Toru was trying to do in?”

  “That’s what it looks like!” She gave him a mental picture of the short-legged animal. Quick thought flow returned. Confirmation—a short while ago, on the Regent’s orders, a cheola from the arena pens had been transported to the palace grounds. One of the telepaths had been curious to see what Toru intended with the dangerous creature, and entered the mind of the vehicle’s driver. When he reported that the cheola apparently had been killed by its intended victims, the group became interested.

  “At that point, we didn’t know there was a psi involved,” Sams concluded. “Come on over and see us! They all want to meet you.”

  Telzey hesitated. The probing attempts of the others had stopped meanwhile. “Where are you?”

  “You’ve been moving in the right direction. When you come into the open again, it’s the building ahead and to your left. The Old Palace. We’re the only ones quartered here at present. I’ll meet you at the door. Torn doesn’t have any other surprises prepared for you in the gardens, by the way. We’ve been checking, and will cover for you.”

  “All right.”

  Thought contact broke off. Telzey told Trigger what had happened. Trigger studied her face. “You don’t seem delighted,” she observed. “Isn’t your acquaintance going to help us?”

  “Well . . . I’m not at all sure! It might depend on why he and the others are here. Sams tends to look out for his own interests first.”

  “I see. So we stay on our toes and keep shields tight . . .”

  “I think we’d better.”

  IV

  “I’ve been arranging this for a year,” Sams Larking said. “Torn is stingy, but he knows he has to come up with the best in arena games on Glory Day—particularly on the Glory Day he plans to be announced as Tamandun’s new Askab to the multitudes. I offered him the best the Hub could provide at a price that delighted his shriveled soul. We’ve brought in the greatest consignment of fighters and performers, human and animal, in Tamandun’s history! Hatzel”—he nodded at a chunky man with a round expressionless face on the other side of the big room—“will be sitting in the Regent’s box with Torn, as Lord of the Games tomorrow. We’ve arranged the whole show. Torn keeps purring over the schedule. He feels he’ll be the envy of Askanam.”

  Trigger said, “From what I’ve heard, more than half of the people you brought in for the arena should be dead before the games are over.”

  “Considerably less than half in this case,” Sams told her. “We picked the best, as I mentioned. Local fighters aren’t in their class!” He studied her a moment. “You disapprove? They all know the odds. They also know that the ones who survive the games will be heroes in Tamandun—wealthy heroes. Some will have a good chance of making it to the nobility. They know that more than one Askanam arena favorite wound up among the Askabs. They’re playing for high stakes. I feel that’s their business.”

  Telzey glanced around the room. Eighteen in all, half of them telepaths, the others an assortment of talents. In effective potential among nonpsis it was an army. Dovari, the illusionist, had regained consciousness before they reached the building. She was a slender woman with a beautiful and, at present, thoroughly sullen face.

  “What are you people playing for?” Telzey asked. “You can hardly be making a profit on your deal with the Regent.”

  Sams shook his head. “That’s not what we’re after. You’ve heard of the Stone of Wirolla?”

  Telzey nodded. “Casmard’s mentioned it. Some old war relic with supposedly magical qualities. They used to sacrifice people to it by cutting out their hearts.”

  “The Regent’s revived that practice,” Sams said. “It’s a form of execution now, reserved for criminals of note and for special occasions. The Stone then indicates its satisfaction with both offering and occasion through supernatural manifestations in the Grand Arena. The manifestations have been on the feeble side—Toru’s too miserly to have had equipment for anything really spectacular installed. But it’s traditional. The people love it.”

  “And?” Telzey said.

  “This Glory Day, the manifestations will be spectacular. We have the talent for it assembled in this room. I’m grateful you didn’t do more than tap Dov
ari because she’ll be responsible for much of it. But we aren’t confining ourselves to illusions, by any means! It’s going to be a terrible shock to Toru when he sees his miracle gadgets producing effects he knows they can’t possibly produce—all in honor of the new Askab, showing how highly the Stone of Wirolla approves of him! As it happens, that won’t be Toru. At the end of Glory Day, I’ll be Askab of Tamandun!”

  He added, “And you see around you Tamandun’s new top nobles—psi rulers of one of the wealthiest balaks of Askanam. You and Miss Argee are herewith invited to join their ranks! I’ve told the group of your ability, and they’re ready to welcome you.” He glanced at Dovari. “With the possible exception of our illusionist! However, she’ll soon get over her irritation.”

  Telzey shook her head. “Sams, you’re crazy!” She looked around the room. “All of you must be, to let him talk you into something like this!”

  Sams didn’t lose his smile. “What makes you say that?”

  “The Psychology Service, for one thing. You start playing around with psi stuff openly, they’ll be here to investigate. You don’t think they’ll let you use it to control Tamandun, do you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do,” Sams told her. “I checked out our Askanam maneuver with them. Anything too obvious that could be attributed to psi is out, of course. But there’s no objection to goings-on that in Tamandun will have the flavor of the supernatural and at more sophisticated levels will be passed off as superstitious gullibility. We’ll have to keep to our balak, but, with those restrictions, what we do here is our business.”

  “If they’re letting you do it,” Telzey said, “they’ve been letting other psis do it.”

  He nodded. “Oh, they have. I said I’ve been preparing this for some time. I’ve been around Askanam and I know that plenty of psis have established themselves in the culture here and are operating about as freely as they like. But almost all of that’s on a minor level. We’ll be the first group that really gets things organized.”

  “You might have been the first to get shuffled out here as a group,” Telzey said.

  Sams’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Meaning?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? The Federation exempts Askanam from normal restrictions because it’s a simple way to keep a specific class of lunatics corralled. The experiment’s worked out, so it’s being continued. The Service evidently has expanded it to include irresponsible psi independents. Put them where whatever they do can’t really add much to the general mess! I wouldn’t feel flattered if they told me I could make Tamandun my playground but was to make sure I stayed there. What kind of playground is it? Being little gods among some of the silliest people in the Hub is going to bore you to death—or you’re lunatics!”

  “I have no liking,” Dovari remarked, “for the girl’s insults.”

  The man called Hatzel said, “There could be a difference of opinion about the opportunities waiting for us in Tamandun. But the point is, Sams, that you seem to be mistaken in believing Miss Amberdon would be interested in lending her talents to the group’s goals.”

  “I still hope to be able to persuade her,” Sams told him.

  “Why not try it, Telzey? It may not be at all what you think. You can always pull out, of course, if you find you don’t like the life.”

  “If I thought I might like it,” Telzey said, “there’d still be the fact that Tamandun already has an Askab.” Hatzel said, “For the moment only. That’s Toru’s affair, not ours. As Lord of the Games, I’ll be attending the Regent’s ceremonial Glory Day dinner in the House of Wirolla tonight. So, I understand, will the Askab Casmard and his guests. Before the evening’s over, Casmard will have abdicated formally. The vacancy will be filled at the end of Glory Day.”

  “Casmard’s an old friend of my family,” Telzey said. “If you’re determined to set yourselves up in Tamandun, you could make an arrangement with him. He isn’t much interested in remaining Askab. I’d see to it that he didn’t remember afterwards there’d been psis involved in the matter.”

  Sams shook his head. “I’m afraid we can’t do that. It’s too late for it. We’re prepared to deal with Toru and the Servant of the Stone tomorrow. The manifestations we’ve scheduled will make it easy to do and we’ll have enthusiastic public approval. But it needs exact timing. We’ve made Toru’s plans for Casmard part of our plan. If Casmard were still alive and still Askab on Glory Day, everything would have to be revised. At best, we’d wind up with something less effective.”

  “Aside from not interfering ourselves,” Hatzel added, “we must also, of course, make sure that no one else does—in any way! And while we know Miss Amberdon’s a telepath, it hasn’t yet been established what Miss Argee’s special abilities are.”

  “I have no special psi abilities,” Trigger said shortly.

  “Now that,” one of the other men remarked, “is an interesting lie! I’ve been attempting to probe that young woman’s shield since she entered the room. I can vouch for the fact that it’s an extraordinary psi structure—unanalyzable and of extreme resistive power!”

  Trigger shrugged. “Somebody else developed the shield for me. I couldn’t have done it. Not that it makes any difference.”

  Sams smiled at her. “I agree! And I’m sure you both realize that we can’t run the risk of letting you upset our plans. Once Glory Day’s over, it doesn’t matter what you do. We’ll be glad to see you safely off Askanam then, assuming Toru’s let you remain alive, which might seem rather doubtful if you won’t join forces with us. Until that time, at any rate, you will have to allow the group to control what you say and do. It’s really the only safe way, isn’t it?”

  “Forget it, Sams!” Telzey said. “Our screens stay tight.”

  “Will they?” Sams said mildly. “I don’t like to put pressure on you, but we still have too much work to get done today to waste more time over this . . .”

  The room went quiet. Then a wave of heat washed over Telzey. It ebbed, returned, and intensified. Trigger gave her a quick, startled glance. Telzey shifted her shoulders.

  “So you have a pyrotic with you!” she remarked.

  Sams smiled. “We have several. Their range is excellent! Even if we allowed you to leave this room and building—though we won’t—you couldn’t get away from the effect. You don’t want your blood to start boiling, do you? Or find your hair and clothes catching fire—as a start?” Trigger, sweat beginning to run down her face, looked at Telzey. “Do you know who’s doing it?” Telzey nodded across the room. “The tall thin man two seats left of Dovari.”

  Trigger’s hand went to her cosmetics purse, and the gun made its abrupt appearance.

  She said to the thin man, “I won’t kill you if this doesn’t stop immediately. But I’ll stun you so solidly you won’t have begun to come awake by the end of Glory Day!

  And it’ll be two weeks after that before your nerves stop jumping.”

  The heat faded away. The group sat staring at Trigger. She jerked, made a choked sound of surprise, looked down at her hand. The gun had vanished from it.

  Sams and a few of the others were laughing. Sams said, “Neat enough, Hatzel! Ladies, let’s stop this nonsense. Since you can’t win, why not give up gracefully? Telzey, you at least are aware you can both be killed in an instant as you’re sitting there!”

  Telzey nodded. “Oh, I do know that, Sams! But I haven’t just been sitting here. I’ve found out Hatzel’s shielded, and, of course, all you telepaths have your psi shields. But six of your most valuable people aren’t shielded at all, and apparently couldn’t operate if they were. Six psi minds—wide open! It would take an instant to kill us, and you can be quite sure that in that instant you’d lose those six! So I don’t think you’ll try it.”

  Sams stared at her. The others were silent a moment. Then one of the women said sharply, “Sams, she’s bluffing! You said she’s good, but between us all we certainly can block her as she strikes out. Then we can handle both of them as we wish.”


  Sams shook his head slowly. “I wouldn’t care to count on it!”

  Dovari said in a strained voice, “Nor I! And I don’t want to die while you’re finding out whether you can, or can’t, block her. Let them go, Sams! If they try to interfere, you can still deal with them in some other manner.”

  V

  Trigger glanced back at the closed building door behind them. She looked both furious and relieved. “What do we do now?” she muttered.

  “Keep walking,” Telzey said. “Back to the Regent’s palace. And we walk rather fast until we reach those trees ahead! I’ve still got my contacts back there. Some talk going on . . . Hatzel seems to be second in command to Sams. So he’s a teleport—” She glanced at Trigger. “Too bad you lost your gun!”

  “That’s not all I lost.”

  “Eh?”

  “My pants went with the gun.”

  “Well,” Telzey said after a moment, “a minor demonstration, as Sams would say. A teleport at Hatzel’s level is a very dangerous person. He didn’t have to do that, of course. They were trying to make us feel helpless.”

  Trigger nodded. “And it worked just fine with me! I’ve never felt more helpless in my life.” She looked over at Telzey. “Touch and go for a moment, wasn’t it? I didn’t think you were bluffing!”

  “I wasn’t. A bluff like that wouldn’t have got past Sams.”

  “What makes them that kind of people?” Trigger said. “With everything they can do—”

  “That’s partly it. Most of that group are bored psis. They’ve used their abilities to make things too easy for themselves. It’s stupid but some do it. Now they’ve run out of fun and are looking for something new—almost anything that seems new.” They’d reached the trees, were hurrying along a path leading through the grove. Trigger checked suddenly, glanced down at the cosmetics purse. She slapped it. The gun popped into her hand.