by Paul Brandis
They hesitated, and Phil raised his voice. "You heard her. Sit."
They complied in hurried confusion.
She stepped in front of them, raised her first finger, and spoke in a strong but soft voice. "Now watch me."
They did.
She spoke steadily, slowly moving her finger. "Now, I want you to give me your solemn oath that you won't move until someone comes to relieve you." She looked at each in turn. "Will you you do that?"
They nodded numbly.
"Good." She turned and smiled brightly. "We can go now."
The two men looked at the technicians staring blankly into space, then at each other. Phil cleared his throat. "What have we got here, man?"
Dante shook his head. "I don't know, but I think we'd better do as she says and go while we have a chance."
After a quick check on the two floored guards who had not moved, the three headed up the corridor. The battery powered lights barely illuminated the old stone walls.
Phil led the way up the stairs until he could observe the hallway on the next floor. Dim light sprayed out of the doorways from Thea's and Slen's rooms, and murmuring echoed down the empty hall.
The trio could not get to the living room and terrace without passing the open doors. They had no choice but to continue.
When they reached Thea's door, Phil paused and stole a look in. A guard stood inside, his back to the door.
They slipped past, and inched to the second door. Phil was about to bend around it, when two guards strode out, the first calling over his shoulder, "Right, we'll bring two stretchers and..."
Phil grabbed him, pulled him aside to Dante, and stuck his blaster in the face of the second. The man skidded to a stop. His fearful eyes crossed peering at the hole in the end of Phil's blaster.
Phil flicked the gun, and whispered. "Reach back and shut the door."
The guard whispered back. "What?"
"You heard me," Phil growled. "Shut the damn door."
The man turned like he had a fused backbone, and slowly closed the door.
As soon as he turned back, Phil had him by the shirt and dragged him to the door of the living room and inside. Dante and his captive guard followed close behind.
With the door closed behind them, Phil glanced around, saw a couch, and shoved the guard in it. The second guard bounced down next to him. Phil turned to Thea. "Can you do that again, or should I take a chance in bending my blaster out of line on their heads?"
She stepped in front of the guards and commanded: "Watch me."
They did and, highlighted by the flickering lightning strikes outside, she put them to sleep.
The three hustled to the terrace door, opened it, and were struck full in the face by the lashing rain. Phil tore off his jacket and wrapped it around Thea's shoulders.
Lightning cracked all around them. Suddenly Phil stopped. The brittle light showed Thea's long, silvery hair rising like a haunting aura around her head. Dante's hair also fanned his head like a icon's halo. The hair on Phil's arms bristled.
Dante grabbed him. "We must hurry. If the lightning rods are damaged from all this activity, anything exposed could be hit.
They hurried to the sled, but as they shoved the canopy back, a strange, green aureole engulfed the tall girl. It spread to the men, over the sled, and up the side of the fortress. Soon the whole mountain top shimmered from the ghostly green fire. Thea's hair snapped and waved, as pale, luminous sparks flickered up each hair, jumping from one to the other.
In frightened wonderment, she cried and he stretched out her arms. "What's happening to me?" The shimmering light silhouetted each finger.
Dante grabbed her arm and pushed her into the sled. "Saint Elmo's Fire. Quick, we've got to get off this point, or we'll be the next lightning rods that get hit."
They scrunched into the narrow cab, and Phil lifted off and steered over the balustrade. Dante called him. "The safest place is down in the valley, but not too close to the trees." But before Phil could dive, a flashing white explosion lit the cabin, deafening them.
The sled slipped to one side then tumbled into a disjointed spin. Thea had not fastened her harness, and she was thrown out of her seat and slammed into the canopy. Behind her, Dante grabbed her waist and wrestled her into his lap. Meanwhile, Phil fought the sled's primitive controls.
Fire warning lights blazed on the console, and a tiny monitor displayed the jagged rocks of the valley floor spiraling up at them. Phil ignored the pyrotechnics, and kept his eye glued to the cross hairs on his turn-and-bank indicator. He eased the throttle back, inclined the stick into the spin, and the little sled slid into balanced flight. They were still spinning, hurtling down towards the rocks, but at least they were flying, not falling.
Phil added power, holding his breath for fear the additional speed would tear the sled in half, and pulled the stick back. The sled zoomed out of the spin, and up, grazing the top of the rocks at the head of the valley.
The extreme G pull drained his brain, and he blacked out, wakening to face the onrushing wall of a mountain. He crammed the stick hard over, and the sled glanced away, and wigwagged down the valley.
In steady flight once more, Phil took a deep breath, and called Dante. "That's enough showing off. What say we go home?"
Dante looked around the big girl on his lap. "We'd better. Check your monitor. We've got company."
Phil looked. Three blips followed him from the fortress. He enlarged the picture, and the three blips turned into speedy security ships.
He groaned. "Man, what I wouldn't do for some peace and quiet." He keyed his transmitter. "Ray, are you listening?"
Ray's voice came on scratched with lightning static. "I hear you."
"Can you give us some help here? We're being chased by three ships from the fortress. The fortress's armament is off, but no telling how long that will last, so you'd better hurry."
"Okay, I see you now. Hang on, I'm on my way."
Phil twisted around and gave Thea a grin of encouragement. "Good guy, that Ray. He'll have us out of here in no time."
A laser blast from the lead pursuit flashed by the sled's canopy, streaking the black night with a wide, fuzzy beam. Instinctively, Phil threw the sled in a steep bank away. "Here we go again."
CHAPTER 28
"All right, I took care of them. Turn to a heading of two-twenty, and we'll pick you up at five thousand feet."
"Thanks, Ray. We'll be right up." Phil turned in his seat. "Uh, Dante. You can put her down now."
As the tall girl maneuvered back into her seat, Dante called out, "I really didn't mind. As a matter of fact, I.."
"That's why I told you to put her down." He called the Flyer. "Kim? Any word from Sighter?"
"All communications are dead, but we've located them. As soon as you get here we'll head out."
"Has their computer blown up anything yet?"
"Not that we've heard."
"Well, that's something. I just don't know how patient it'll be before it starts retaliating."
"I've contacted the Trader's home ship. They launched a rescue mission as soon as they learned Sighter was in trouble. But since we're closer and have had experience with Ghosts, I asked if we could fly out and try to diagnose the problem. They said it was all right, and gave me boarding directions for Sighter's ship."
"That's great. If we can show our willingness to help, they may be lenient if this whole thing doesn't turn out very well."
On board the Flyer, speeding to a rendezvous with Sighter's yacht, Phil convened his friends in his cabin. "The problem is, not knowing. If the Ghosts have taken Sighter and his crew over completely, I don't think we can do anything to help them. But if not, we know that Ghosts can't stand heat. When one tried to get me, I blew him away by turning on a blast of cabin heat. But I was just lucky. I wanted to tell Sighter about it, but we lost contact before I had a chance."
Kim nodded. "Let's assume that the Ghosts don't have them completely. I mean, Sighter and his pe
ople are terribly intelligent. Maybe they could fight off the Ghosts by concentration and will power."
"That's a point. Sighter was really putting up a struggle. But the problem is, they don't have a sense of combat. They've left that up to their computers."
"Well, maybe we can make them more competitive. Teach them how to fight for themselves."
Dante shook his head. "I doubt if it's something that can be learned quickly and by an elderly man. Our children learn it early, on the school playground."
Phil snorted. "Are you kidding? Earlier than that. Ask any kid who has an older brother or sister."
Dante continued. "And not only that, if Sighter and his men are struggling against mental takeovers by these Ghosts, how can they concentrate on learning something new."
Kim nodded. "And it can't be just any form of competition. It has to be intellectual, something that will fit their personalities."
Phil grinned wryly. "What, you mean they couldn't stop their mental struggle to drink a few beers and watch a football game?"
Kim ignored him. "It would have to be something refined, elegant, yet simple, classical."
Dante thought for a moment. "Chess?"
Kim nodded. "I thought about that, but wouldn't learning all the different moves be too complicated while trying to fight against the Ghosts?"
Phil shrugged. "Checkers?"
"No, but you're getting closer. You know, when chess was first introduced, it was the game of the aristocrats."
"That's Sighter, all right."
"But there was one people, an oriental culture, who thought of it as the game for peasants. Their aristocrats played a board game where they used nothing but black and white buttons. Check the computers."
"You should be picking up true visual any moment now."
Phil nodded. "Yeah, I see it, Ray. Pull close to its nose and see if it veers off."
Ray looped the red Frisco Flyer around and slid it into a near collision course to the slim, white craft. The white sliver made no corrections; answered no calls.
Phil bit his lip. "All right. Get the boarding party together in the disembark bay."
In a few minutes he stood before Kim, Dante, and four hefty veterans of the Cult campaigns. They grasped handholds on the walls to keep from drifting. Kim wore a small backpack.
As usual, Phil cleared his throat for attention. "Now, you've all got heat blowers. They're not much, but they're the only thing I could think of that might mess up Ghosts. If the Ghosts have already assimilated into the crew, I don't know what we'll do. If we try to destroy the crew, their computer will probably destroy us. It may do that anyway. We'll just have to see."
Seeing no reaction, he continued, "Keep in sight of each other at all times. Remember, Ghosts can depress into any shape. They can pass through walls, and could be hiding anywhere. Our only protection is vigilance. I don't want to alarm you, but existence in our system and culture could rest on your shoulders. Good luck."
As he slipped into his sled in front of Dante, he murmured, "How'd it sound?"
"A little thick, but I'm sure it played well in the provinces."
"Let's hope so. Trouble is, it's true. Our lives may just depend on these farm boys."
The two sleds drifted over to the alien ship and attached to its porcelain side. Kim keyed a combination of tiny symbols on the exterior air lock door, and the boarding party drifted in.
Kim consulted a tiny monitor on her wrist. "It's awfully cold."
Phil nodded. "A bad sign." He turned to the men. "Get your blowers on. We three will move facing forward. Two of you face to each side, two back. Keep your eyes open, and your blowers up. Let's go."
They pressed through a wall opening, and jerked to a stop as the lanky figure of a Trader floated in front of them. His slack face showed no life.
Kim grabbed the man's hand and quickly attached a diagnostic thimble to one of his fingers. She shook her head at the readings. "Well, he's alive, but barely. His temperature is thirty degrees below normal and his pulse is awfully slow but steady." She slipped on an EKG glove and grasped his skull. "There's activity." She drew back fearfully. "Too much activity."
Phil pushed the body aside. "Well, at least he isn't dead. Come on. We've got to find Sighter. He's probably in the control room."
As they cruised up the corridor, Dante spoke low. "Why do you think the Ghosts didn't kill that Trader?"
"Maybe they want them alive, as vehicles. If they could get into the Trader's main ship and control it, they could control the whole system, and anywhere else they'd want to go."
Dante made a sour face. "Ugly business."
They found Sighter floating behind two men strapped into seats at the control console. Phil hooked his arm. "Let's get him to his quarters. It's just next to the Control Room."
They pulled him into a plush little cabin, lay him on his bed, and Kim checked his temperature. Probing with the EKG glove, her eyes widened. "This is ridiculous. It's as if he's having one long stroke. How can his mind stand it?"
Suddenly Sighter opened his eyes and his placid face contorted into a mask of malevolent rage. He screamed an inhuman scream, and lashed out at her, his movement stiff and ungainly.
Phil grabbed the man's arm and started to chop him with his blower, but both Kim and Dante cried out.
Dante, as he grappled the other arm down, gave him a look of warning. "For once, old man, let's hold the rough stuff. Don't forget the all-guarding computer."
Kim pulled out her shot pen and jabbed it into the older man's neck. His movements only became more disjointed.
Struggling to restrain the man's contortions, Phil called to her. "What now?"
She shook her head. "I don't know." Then a thought came. "Quick, turn your blowers on him. Raise his temperature. Meanwhile, I'll..." and she fiddled with her shot pen.
With one of the young men standing guard for any other Ghosts that might be floating around, the rest hosed down the minister with streams of hot air. The man's writhing slowed, became lethargic, then stopped.
Dante examined his comatose face, then glanced at Phil. "You know, the hot air of your speeches affects me this way too."
Phil threw him a pained look. "If we get out of this, you'll pay for that."
Slowly the Sighter's eyes blinked open. Lines of stress tortured his face. He raised his hands to his head, and mumbled in his own language.
Kim rubbed his forehead soothingly. "Yes, I know. It's been tough, but we're here now." She checked his temperature, and snapped, "Keep those blowers on him."
Sighter licked his dry lips. "I do not feel good. My head hurts. Can you help me?"
Kim nodded. "We're trying, Minister. How do you turn on the heat in here?"
The man winced, and spoke slowly, struggling for each word. "Heat...I know what that is. I...I just can't think."
Kim shook his shoulder . "You must think. You must fight against whatever keeps you from thinking. Now, think. How do you turn up the heat?"
The man squinted with concentration, then spoke a word. Immediately the cabin warmed.
"Hotter," commanded Kim. "And not just in here, throughout the ship.
Sighter gave the order.
Phil pulled off his helmet and loosened his jacket. "How hot do you want it? I'm burning up now." The others agreed, and followed suit.
Sighter continued rubbing his face. "What's wrong with me?"
Kim checked his temperature. "Well, for one thing, I've induced a fever in you. It'll keep your temperature up for a while."
"Fever," he recited. "Often in an organism the indicator of sickness or infection." He turned to her. "But we are never sick." He gripped his head and groaned. "Oh, I...I can't think straight." He fell back exhausted.
She shook him again, harder. "You can't give up. Something has invaded your mind. You must fight for control of your thoughts."
"Fight? But we do not fight. We live without fighting."
Phil pulled him to his feet. "Yeah? Well,
you'd better learn, and fast."
Kim supported his arm. "Yes, we'll teach you."
Deep hollows creased Sighter's face, telling of his mental struggle. "But this thing in my mind is so strong. I can't reason with it. All it wants to do is dominate."
"We'll help you."
Aloofly he stared down at her as she dragged him to a table. Sitting him down, she felt his scull with her EKG glove. She glanced fearfully at Phil. "So much activity. I've never seen anything like it."
Now Sighter's head drooped. "I know. Every time I tire, it takes over more of my thoughts. I'm trying to remember things I've known all my life, but everything is fuzzy."
Kim spun around the table and sat down across from him. "Don't worry about that now." She slipped her backpack off and pulled a board and a couple of cans out. Taking out a tiny video, she opened the screen.
Sighter's forehead furrowed deeper. "Are you going to show me something that will help me get rid of this thing in my head?"
"We hope so. You see, you and your ship are infected with Ghosts."
"Ghosts?"
Phil moved to his elbow. "Yes. From Serena. I told you about them, remember?"
The man nodded vaguely.
Kim drew his attention. "Now, just watch the screen, and you'll learn this game. It's a game of domination of a territory. The instructions are pretty complex so you'll have to pay attention."
His eyes narrowed. "Will it take long? I don't dare stop my concentration."
Dante moved over. "Remember what you did to Thea to make her learn to speak quickly?"
"Quickly. It was no quicker than I felt she could learn."
"Uh, yes. Well, maybe you could learn as fast."
"Of course."
He turned to Kim. "Insert earplugs, and run it at fast forward."
Kim looked at the two men, then nodded. "Whatever you say."
Sighter stared at the screen as the images spun by. In a moment it was over. He looked up. "Is that all?"
"Well, no. There's more, but it's such a complex game, we thought it best just to give you a rudimentary introduction."
He bent over in front of the little screen. "Give me all the information you possess."