by A. V. Clarke
Lin warmed to this young giant, the inexplicable feeling of comradeship he had always had growing stronger.
“Wray!” he exclaimed, eyes shining. “Oh, Wray, I’ve had a heck of a time.” Then, the wonder of it suddenly striking him, “How did you know I was here?”
“Why I—er—that is,” Wray paused, uncertainly. “I just knew you were behind that door.”
“But how?”
“Why, I sort of sensed you were there. It’s not important, it doesn’t matter. What is important is what we do now.”
“But it is important,” Lin said, fiercely. “It does matter. Tell me, have you always been able to sense people without seeing them?”
“More or less, yes. I always seem to know when anyone is about. I haven’t thought about it much. I suppose most people are the same.”
“Most people are not. You have a strange power, and, it seems, so have I. We're not normal people, Wray.” “The CC says we're Fourth and Fifth,” said Wray, sombrely.
“That has nothing to do with it! I’ve always felt a kinship for you, Wray, ever since I first saw you sitting on that bunk.” Lin’s features were glowing with animation. He went on rapidly: “This gives me a lead on our troubles, on why the CC gives the answers it does. I think, I almost think I see the pattern. Your sense of telepathy, and my fumbling telekinesis, together they add up to— to—” Lin stopped.
The answer appeared plain, but dared he admit it, even to himself?
“I don’t see what you're driving at, Lin, but I repeat, what matters now is what we do next.”
“I was trying to get to Merryl,” began Lin. Then the waste of time that had ensued brought him up, panting. “Have you got that radio set here?”
“Yes, all ready.” Wray took the set from a wall cupboard, set it on the table.
“Call up Merryl for me, use the wavelength you used the last time. And hurry.”
Carefully Wray adjusted controls, spoke into the mouthpiece. After a short delay, with only the carrier humming idly, a voice, distant and hoarse, came over the speaker. “This is Merryl. Who are you?”
“Merryl, this is Lin.” He was sobbing with relief. “Are you all right? Victor knows of the rocket site; he plans an attack. Get the scientists to safety, I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”
“It’s too late, Lin.” Merryl’s voice faded, then grew as the carrier wavered. “Victor’s men are attacking the site now. They’ve killed a lot of my best men. They’ll soon break into the rocket control post, where we are trying to hold out. You told Victor where we were, Lin. You betrayed us. Nothing matters now. except that I’ll die knowing you for the traitor you are!”
Chapter Eleven
"NO! Merryl, that’s not true!” shouted Lin. The carrier hummed, but no voice answered. Merryl had gone off the air. Had she been killed in one last burst of fire from Victor’s gunmen?
“Merryl! Merryl!” Lin was frantic.
“There’s nothing you can do now, Lin,” said Wray, soothingly. His pale eyes surveyed Lin compassionately. “Just hope she can last out. From what I remember of the rocket control-post it’s a tough nut. Thick concrete, built to withstand the blast of rocket take-offs. She can hold off Victor’s gunmen with heat rifles.” he finished, reassuringly.
“What do we do?” Lin asked, wildly. Then, collecting himself, he started foe the door. “We must get there right away.”
“Hold on. Lin. We can’t just go running off. We need help.”
“There’s no one to turn to, not one soul in all this city-block we can call a friend!” Lin stopped, his face lit up. “Not in the city-block, but Outside, yes. Outside there are friends!”
“Outside?” Wray was incredulous.
Rapidly. Lin reminded Wray of the band of mutants which Merryl had been attempting to lead him to when they had been captured by the guards. That all seemed a long while ago. when he had been a common labouring Fifth, sweating in the tunnels with digger-machines and vacuaminers.
“Bring your heat rifle, leave the radio set. and let’s go. Merryl can’t last out much longer.”
Wray slung the rifle over his shoulder and they left the room, running down the empty corridor.
“If Victor sends for me now, we’ll really be in trouble. He’ll soon guess what has happened.” Wray licked his lips, relishing the thought. Lin commented that if there was one thing Wray enjoyed it was a good clean fight.
“We’d better make for the bank of elevators we rode down that day. Once we’re outside the city-block I can find the way. There is a ruined structure of metal ribs, where the ancients used to store gas. You can’t mistake it.”
“Let’s get there first,” grunted Wray.
They slowed to a rapid walk, both breathing hard. If their luck held, with Victor’s men making the attack on Merryl, they should be able to avoid any conflict in the city-block; the main danger-spot was the elevator bank.
The mention of that day when he had first ridden down, after meeting Merryl, recalled to Lin the changes that had occurred in himself, and in the city-block. Then he had been a bewildered Fifth, with vague dreams of being something different. Now he was a self-determined man, bent on thwarting the plans of a power-mad dictator. The key to strange powers lay within his grasp, given sufficient time for experimentation he was confident he could prove that he was not a Fifth.
But that didn’t matter. Firsts and Fifths alike were still not capable of Lin’s uncanny powers. He was a being apart.
The superhuman burst of energy that had shifted the tumbler, buried deep within a metal door, was a manifestation of telekinesis, of that Lin was sure. He remembered guarded reference to the mental control and movement of discrete objects, of experiments carried out to determine the capacity of the mind over material phenomena. Wray had the glimmerings of Extra Sensory Perception, and Lin had touched the fringes of telekinesis. Lin felt an exultation run through his veins at the prospect of the future.
Then they were bundling into the elevator, riding up to the Fifth Level, heading for dangers which might easily erase for ever any hone of a future.
“Here we are, Lin.” Wray held his heat rifle competently. He thumbed the safety off. “Ill go first.”
The grille crashed open and Wray, with Lin on his heels, bounded out. As they had expected, a small squad of Victor’s gunmen lounged near the airlock doors. Wray gave them no chance. One lashing coruscation crisped them to ashes, then the two fugitives ran immediately to the air lock, and under their urgent fingers the great valves swung ponderously open.
Lin remembered that it would be night when they reached the Outside. Slowly his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom. Black clouds sailed across a swollen moon. The wind soughed eerily through broken buildings, bringing a hint of rain.
“I think it will rain soon,” Lin said, apprehensively.
“That means sure death if we are caught out in it. We must make sure of shelter as we go along.”
“Acid rain,” Wray shivered, and slid his heat rifle across his shoulder, leaving both hands free. “It helped destroy the ancients’ world. The city-block appears to me almost the lesser evil.”
They threaded their way through ruins, a desolation of smashed and shattered buildings, and Lin knew that if he had been wearing his Geiger counter strapped to his wrist it would have been chattering excitedly. He recalled with mixed emotions the last time he had stumbled this way, gun prodded, despondent. But then he had been with Merryl.
Soon they saw, starkly skeleton-like against the stars, the gaunt outlines of the ribbed structure used by the ancients for gas storage. They proceeded with more caution; no sense in being killed off now by the mutants before they could tell them of the reason for this nocturnal visit.
“Can you see anything, Lin?” grumbled Wray, peering towards the shadows clustering thickly under ruined walls.
“Nothing. Merryl shouted for the mutants; but we can’t chance that; they don’t know us.”
Wray slid down an incli
ne of rubble and shattered stonework and Lin followed, sending stones rolling underfoot.
“If we make this amount of noise they’ll hear us back in the city,” Lin said, struggling to remain upright on the loose underfooting.
The wind freshened, sending plumes of dust trailing from broken brickwork, stinging their eyes. They moved cautiously to the foot of the metal structure, the ribbed uprights towering bleakly above, patterning the moon.
“Lin!” Wray spoke in a whisper, pale eyes shining in the moonglow as he turned towards his companion. “I sense somebody near! There, in that patch of shadow below the ruined arch.
“Get down,” Lin’s voice was husky. “Let him show himself first.”
The two crouched behind a metal shaft, raking away into the air. They stilled their hoarse breathing, nostrils flaring. Straining his eyes, Lin could see nothing move in the shadows, yet Wray’s uncanny power could not be mistaken.
A voice, soft and yet carrying hidden menace, floated from the tumbledown arch.
“What do two strangers want here?”
“We are friends!” shouted Lin.
“Come forward, let us see you. We will decide whether you are friends or not.”
Lin and Wray rose slowly to their feet, walked blindly forward into the shadows. The arch rose around them, closing in, shutting out the sky.
An arm reached from the gloom; a scaly hand closed on Lin’s wrist and pulled him down. He half stepped, half fell into a small chamber, hollowed out in the side of the arch.
Red light stung his eyes as a flaring torch was thrust into the air, igniting a lamp swinging from the roof.
Lin was half prepared for the sight of the men in the room. Their mutations had followed various forms, some hideous, some incredibly beautiful.
All the monstrosities, the aberrations of nature, the barely viable changes in the human frame that Lin saw around him paled as he looked entranced at the man who had spoken.
Slim body, covered evenly with silvery down; four supple arms, jointed in three places; large, luminous brown eyes; a sad. dignified expression. This mutant was irresistibly appealing. And Lin experienced that indefinable feeling of kinship that once before had possessed him on meeting Wray.
He began to speak, then stopped, the words stilled by the other's upraised hand.
“What do you want of us?” The mutant's features were open and unafraid.
“We came to seek your help,” said Lin, simply.
“Our help!” The mutant’s voice was suddenly contemptuous. “Of what help can we be to whole men?” “Every help. Listen to me, it is vitally important,” pleaded Lin. Rapidly he told of the revolt in the city-block. Of Victor’s paranoical schemes. “Be sure he will soon seek you out to destroy you. The group of scientists we must aid represent a new way of life. They will give you all the chance of life.”
“These scientists you speak of we have met already.”
“I know. One called Chayce was endeavouring to aid you. He was killed by the rats. Do you remember a young girl with black hair, a girl called Merryl?”
“We remember her.”
“She is fighting for her life with the remnants of the scientists against the power-mad gunmen of Victor. It is her we must aid. Surely you cannot—”
“This is a matter that cannot be settled without thought. How can we be sure life will be different as you promise if we risk all on a suicidal attack?”
“Believe me,” Lin said, passionately, “there are very good reasons, which 1 cannot tell you now. Look only at the central fact that Merryl and the scientists are friendly to you. They have proved that by their actions in the past. You can win all now’, or allow them to be beaten down, and lose all when Victor turns on you!”
The mutant raised three of his arms in an undulating gesture that took in the occupants of the room.
“These men have ties here, on the Outside. We have made a home, deeper within the ruins. Their wishes must sway my decision. We have no artificial control like the CC. Neither have we a dictatorship. Let me consult the Elders and I will give you our decision.”
“Only make baste,” urged Lin. “Merryl cannot last out much longer. We have wasted too much time as it is.”
Wray pushed close to Lin, putting his hand on Lin’s arm, as the silver-furred mutant went with quiet dignity out of the room. He was followed by a number of the other mutants, some walking, some hopping; one, like the man Lin had seen before with Chayce, crawling on all fours.
The remainder of the mutants surveyed Lin and Wray from cold eyes. They moved restlessly, clicking talons and preening fur. Lin felt Wray shiver beside him.
“Have you any confidence in these people, Lin?” Wray asked, his fingers playing a tattoo on the heat rifle.
“Strange as it may seem, I have. They have all to gain if they aid us in defeating Victor. I know that Merryl and the scientists will give these people a fair deal. It all fits in with the pattern, even with the Cybernetic Controller.”
“With Sissy? I don’t follow.”
“It’s too long and involved to explain now, but I’m sure I can put the CC to good use again—controlled by men, instead of controlling them.” Lin wiped the palm of his hand across his face; it came away wet. “I don’t like this waiting.”
As if in direct answer to his complaint, the stately figure of the mutant leader emerged into the lantern light in the room. He was followed by a silent entourage and Lin noticed with unease that now all the mutants carried weapons.
The leader raised one of his four arms.
“Strangers from the city, we have deliberated and decided. The decision of the Elders is that you have come here to lead us into a trap. You would have us all follow you into the waiting guns of city guardsmen.”
“No!” exclaimed Lin. springing to his feet, face flushed. “That’s not true!” Indignation at the false charge swayed him; the implications had not penetrated his mind. Then he realised what this meant, and saw his hopes dashed to the ground.
“Merryl! You would not leave her to the gunmen of
Victor? Remember she helped you—”
“We do not believe that she is in danger. You have fabricated the story to gain our sympathy.”
“But—”
“No more lies. You will stay here under guard until we have decided the best punishment.”
Lin glanced appalled at Wray. The latter gave an inarticulate growl and swung the heat rifle up, holding the muzzle firm on the four-armed mutant. Before he could press the trigger a ball of striped fur detached itself from the wall at his back, raking talons tore into his arms; he went over headlong to the ground. The rifle s*pun into the air.
Wray staggered upright, crimson drops splattering from his lacerated flesh. The striped ball of fur resolved itself into a flailing mutant, eyes gleaming, bared teeth searching for Wray’s jugular.
“Cease!” The leading mutant’s voice was deep and resonant. “Do not kill him. He must await the verdict of the Elders; they will decide how he will die.”
“The little hell-cat,” panted Wray. He glared venomously from pale eyes at the furry mutant. “That little package of sudden death’s a woman, Lin. What do you think of that?”
The heat rifle lay in the centre of the room, glittering in the light. Lin inched towards it, turning casually to Wray and speaking over his shoulder.
“Woman or not, Wray, you were nearly a dead man then.”
The rifle was almost underfoot now, one swift swoop and any mutant that dared interfere would be crisped into charred flesh.
Then, shockingly, a gun crashed Outside. Another boomed out, followed immediately by a shrill scream. A man catapulted into the room, missing the steps and falling full length across the floor.
“Guards! They’ve got the place surrounded!”
The mutant leader raised one hand for quiet and turned his liquid brown eyes on Lin.
“So your friends are outside waiting for you. No doubt they grew tired. They didn’t
think that we would not fall into your trap. They were all ready to shoot us down like wild beasts when we ventured out.”
“No! They are our enemies also. They will kill us with even less compunction than they would shoot you.”
The mutants in the room crowded round, brandishing their assortment of weapons in Lin’s face.
“Kill them now!”
“What are we waiting for?”
“Raising his voice above the uproar, the leader shouted for silence. Grumbling and growling the mutants subsided.
“Leave these two. The guards Outside must be dealt with first. They do not know the dangers into which they walk so arrogantly.” The leader rapidly told off various squads of mutants to perform tasks. Lin could not follow the directions, but there was no panic; none of the confusion that might well be expected at such a moment.
Lin and Wray were crowded into a corner, a scaly monstrosity, with human eyes, holding a long handled pike ready. They knew that he would plunge it deep into their bodies the moment they tried to break for freedom. The room rapidly emptied, mutants springing up the steps and vanishing with a certain eagerness into the night.
There were crashes of gunfire Outside, and odd noises that Lin could not identify. The tension mounted thickly in the little room. Even the guarding mutant rolled eyes briefly to the door and back. The noises Outside faded, screams and gunshots dying away to a waiting silence. Lin shivered.
Then the four-armed mutant ducked through the doorway, and with a gasp of astonishment Lin saw a brawny, red-bearded figure tumbled down the steps, to lie groaning on the floor.
Mutant guards stood over him, long weapons pointing at his breast, but it was quite obvious that Brush was dying.
The mutant leader spoke softly, his brown eyes fathomless.
“I brought this man back to give you a last chance.
We admit that we owe much to the scientists and friend Merryl. If this man can corroborate your story, we will help you.”
“Brush!” Lin knelt swiftly. “Can you hear me?”
Brush’s eyes flickered open. He glared into Lin’s face, peering pleadingly into his own.