The Mind from Outer Space

by Eando Binder

  “Grab that thick branch directly below us, and crawl toward the trunk of the tree,” yelled Hillory. It was a mad scramble, but they made it. Then they clung to the sturdy trunk and watched the thrashing tree branches subside into limpness.

  “That’s how to kill a tree,” said Barton during the climb down. “With lightning.”

  “Psi-lightning,” amended Hillory. “It wasn’t cloud-made but came directly out of thin air from a clot of psi-power I formed. But Jorzz very nearly had us there.”

  On the ground, they saw that the tree was truly dead with its roots blackened where they had tom spasmodically out of the soil. “But why couldn’t the mind-alien still animate the tree, even when dead, like he did with the yeti?”

  “Too much psi-energy required,” answered Hillory. “Jorzz is limited in how much psi-power he can draw down and utilize. He’s only able to cause short bursts of activity in the things he animates.”

  “Luckily for us,” breathed Merry. She brightened. “Well, after that rude interruption, let’s find the treasure cache here.”

  “There is none,” said Barton gloomily.

  They stared at him.

  “This was a wild goose chase,” continued Barton. He kicked away a stone in disgust. “We got our instructions from Jorzz, not my computer.”

  “Huh?” said Merry.

  Barton faced them, blazing anger in his eyes. “I mean that Jorzz slipped his free-mind into my computer circuits and cooked up a false treasure spot to waste our time—or lead us into a death trap. Jorzz guessed that a jungle would offer him plenty of killers to animate against us.”

  “But how do you know Jorzz ‘animated’ the computer?” Hillory wanted to know, stunned.

  “I should have suspected it from the start,” growled Barton, giving his mustache a sharp tweak. “The way Brains first sounded incoherent, probably because Jorzz was having trouble manipulating the voice circuits. Then the vague location without geographical coordinates. Brains would never be that sloppy about it. And finally, Brains first rejecting and then accepting the same map.”

  “But he explained about the crease….”

  “Crease, my foot. Brains has an automatic crease smoother for any paper he is to scan. It slipped my dumb mind until now.”

  Hillory sagged. “Taken in like fools. Jorzz almost did lure us to our death. Even so, he wasted our time at a false spot No. 3. Well, back we go in the psi-bubble.”

  “With our tails between our legs,” said Barton wryly.

  Anger flashed from Merry’s brown eyes. “When I think of all the sun tan lotion and bug-bite spray I carefully packed up….” A stream of phrases came spitting from her lips.

  “Come again?” said Barton. “Those sound like cuss-words.”

  “Yes, but in foreign languages. That way people still think I’m too much of a lady to swear.”

  * * * *

  Hillory reported in to Dr. Clyde about their abortive mission to the Amazon. The director scowled. “A devilish trick on the part of Jorzz. It delays our final solution of the great mystery. And it’s keeping you from resuming your psi researches.”

  “Not really,” mused Hillory. “I’ve learned more about using psi-powers than ever before, through battling the mind-alien.”

  Hillory left and dropped in at Dr. Cheng’s lab. “Any luck in breaking open the treasure globes?”

  “Not yet,” conceded the oriental dwarf. “Every avenue of approach I’ve used ends up nowhere. Even a bombardment of high-speed protons that would disrupt steel armor has no effect on the rainbow crystal.”

  Hillory felt perturbed as he left. If they never succeeded in opening the strange containers, they would never know the secret of the treasure tapes. That would be a bitter ending for their hazardous treasure hunt all over earth, courting danger at every step.

  At Dr. Torreo’s lab, Hillory asked for the metal map back. It had been stored, during his absence, in the fifth dimension, along with one of the two treasure globes. The metal scroll materialized in Torreo’s device.

  When Hillory entered the computer lab, Barton was busy hooking up wires to one console. “That fixes that. Jorzz won’t be able to sneak into Brains and tamper with his circuits. Here, let’s test it. Hillory, you stand near the console and send a telepathic message to Brains. Say anything like…oh, copper is colored purple.”

  Hillory took out his psi-tektite and concentrated on the mental message. Instantly, a bright red bulb near Barton lit up and a bell clanged. Also the computers lighted screen flashed the word interference.

  “Fine,” said Hillory, handing over the metal scroll. “Now to solve for spot No. 3 again.” He frowned. “The trouble is, we have only two ancient maps of earth left. Brains rejected the other eight….”

  “No, he didn’t.” Merry came in, her arms loaded with maps. “It was Jorzz who falsely rejected them in order to pull his stunt.”

  “That’s right,” said Hillory, brightening. “We can run through them again with a good chance of hitting the right one.”

  It was only the third map that Barton fed into the computer which brought acceptance, and the answer was delivered in nine minutes.

  “Comparison of the ancient earth map and the alien map indicates that spot No. 3 is a deep cave in Africa.” Brains gave the exact latitude and longitude. Then he concluded: “I vaguely detect from the text that markings in that labyrinth of caves will lead to the treasure itself.” Hillory sent Merry running to the library for a modern map of Africa in detail. When she returned, he pinpointed the spot according to the computer’s data.

  “There it is. It’s called the Cave of Idols today, in Ghana. We can set out today in the psi-bubble. We’ll take along good electric lamps as the cave will be dark.”

  “We may need passports too,” pointed out Merry. “That cave is a showplace for tourists. The local officials and guards won’t like us simply dropping down from the sky without sanction, violating their air space and illegally entering their country.”

  Barton made a sour face. “Getting passports and visas and all that claptrap—ugh. It would be a big delay, and we might never get permission.”

  Chapter 14

  Hillory fretted at this new problem. Before, in going to Mount Everest and the Amazon, he had fleetingly thought of following protocol, then dismissed it as unimportant since they would be far from any centers of civilization. And the descent to Atlantis had required no legal papers in the free ocean.

  But now, landing in a populous country at one of their scenic wonders and blithely walking in to explore for a “treasure” would only land them in trouble neck deep. The only way to get permission would be for Dr. Clyde to put pressure on Washington. But the only way to do that would be to reveal their whole secret project to the government.

  It would be like stirring a hornet’s nest. The repercussions might well rob them of the rewards and take the treasure hunt out of their hands. Hillory faced the other two, knowing they were thinking the same.

  “Why stick our necks out? All large natural caverns, they say, have more than one entrance or exit. So we’ll simply avoid the main entrance where the guide tours are conducted and find some obscure entrance. Most big caves have many branches and miles of passageways. The place where the idols of some past civilization are on display would occupy only a small portion of the caverns.”

  “So we sneak in like smugglers,” grinned Barton.

  “Illegal entry and all that,” chirped Merry.

  They smiled at one another like conspirators. It seemed so trivial in the face of the tantalizing riddle of outer space they were struggling to solve. What did a few fussy earth laws and routine conventions mean in comparison to a treasure buried 35,000 years ago, long before the idols had ever been installed in the cave or the country taken over by people?

  Without a trace of a guilty conscience, they embarked. Within an hour the psi-bubble was descending over Ghana, to a wasteland section where the Cave of Idols existed. They had deliberately
chosen the nighttime.

  “There won’t be any guided tours going on,” said Hillory. “Only a guard or two at the main entrance. And darkness won’t inhibit our search for another entrance—not with the clairvoyance goggles.”

  Again they wore the goggles that by some queer paranormal process could peer anywhere and reveal details in sharp clarity. They could extend the range simply by willing their “mental TV” to pick up more distant scenes. They scanned the terrain below as the psi-bubble slowly drifted past the archway of the main entrance.

  “Wait,” said Hillory. “Set your range within the main cave. The goggles can see through rock, you know. Take a look at what the tourists see.”

  “And without paying the admission fee,” chuckled Barton like a gleeful child sneaking into an exhibit.

  They sobered and stared in awe at what their clairvoyant pickup revealed. Within a giant cavern with a lofty ceiling studded with stalactites stood a row of huge stone idols, each twenty feet tall. Some lost civilization had painstakingly chiseled out these idols in grotesque forms that were half-man and half-beast. Each idol’s eyes were enormous sparkling gems of fabulous worth. It was no wonder that it was a strong tourist attraction.

  “Time to get down to business,” said Hillory. “I’ll guide the bubble over what would be the back of the cave from which tunnels would branch. Somewhere there should be a side entrance, even if it’s just a small hole.”

  Below lay typical “badlands” that were often associated with caves. Distorted rock formations lay twisted all over with a few straggling trees and bushes rooted here and there. A bleak stone wilderness carved by nature’s tools through the ages.

  Merry clutched Hillory’s arm. “Down there. A black hole. It goes down through the rock.”

  “One of the cave’s vent-holes,” said Hillory. “We’re in luck.”

  The bubble landed and they stepped out near the hole, snapping on their flash-lamps. “Raise your clairvoyance goggles,” said Hillory. “Direct vision is better when the footing is uncertain.”

  Hillory went down first, finding footholds in the rocky hole which did not drop straight down but slanted. Thirty feet down he stood in a large passageway and waited till the other two had joined him. Further on, their lamps revealed several branch tunnels.

  “People spend days and weeks exploring caves,” said Merry, dismayed. “How do we know just where the aliens hid the treasure? We might blunder around and get nowhere.”

  “You forget,” put in Barton, “that Brains said the aliens left guide markings in the cave.”

  “What kind?”

  “Who knows?” answered Hillory for Barton. “Just keep your eyes open for any unusual marking on the stone walls.”

  But before they went on, he tied one end of a string around a small stalagmite and let it unwind from a reel strapped to his belt. “A trick borrowed from the Minotaur legend. We want to be sure to find our way back through these confusing labyrinths.”

  Eerie silence surrounded them except for their footfalls as they trudged along the dusty passageways. They wound erratically in all directions, sometimes going up and down. At branch corridors, Hillory pretended to flip a coin and chose one at random.

  Merry gave a little scream as a small dark shape flitted past. “Bats! But then, what can you expect in caves?”

  Further along a passageway opened out into a large cavern with uprearing stalagmites. Glinting stalactites hung precariously from the roof, poised as if to drop like spears and impale those beneath.

  “Don’t worry,” soothed Barton at the girl’s fearful stare. “They’re formed by limestone drippings and are solidly affixed to the stone ceiling….”

  At that moment a loud crack reverberated through the hollow cavern. Hillory’s flashlight caught the moving glint above.

  “A stalactite broke loose,” he yelled, jerking Merry back. The massive stone spear with a sharp point struck barely a yard away, splintering and sending flying rubble at them as they shielded their faces.

  “Our little playmate—Jorzz,” growled Barton. “Up to his mischievous mayhem again.”

  “I’m afraid so,” hissed Hillory. “He used PK power to break off that stalactite. Don’t walk directly under them anymore.”

  All of them glanced around in dread wondering what threat would be hurled at them next by the murderous mind from outer space. A dark cave deep within the bowels of earth was the ideal place for uncanny psi-ambushes.

  But their worry was replaced by excitement as Merry’s flash limelighted a peculiar marking on the stone wall—three bones in a crossed pattern.

  “The same marking as on that flying saucer we found.”

  “I should have known,” said Hillory. “It’s a sort of skull-and-crossbones emblem used by the pirates who buried the split-up treasure tapes.”

  “We hit it at a cross corridor,” pointed out Barton. “They came from another passageway than we did. But now we can just follow their markings to the treasure spot.”

  “But which way?” asked Merry and Barton looked both ways, uncertainly. “We don’t know which way the pirates came,” she continued. “One way will simply backtrack them and lead out of the caves.”

  Hillory stared closely at the marking. “Hmm. The three crossbones are tilted as if to point the way to where they hid the treasure. We’ll follow them that way. If I’m wrong, it only means we have to retrace our steps back to here and go the other way.”

  They followed the emblems tilted forward, which were marked wherever passageways crossed or the way was uncertain. Suddenly, Hillory halted at a pile of stone that filled the next corridor.

  “A cave-in,” groaned Barton. “It happened in the 35,000 years since the pirates came here.”

  They stared in dismay at the heap of broken stone that blocked their way. “Not even a chink for an ant to crawl through,” said Merry, frustratedly.

  “This calls for some psi-blasting,” sighed Hillory, remembering how it had drained him of psi-energy when destroying the yeti on Mount Everest. But there was no help for it. Using his psi-tektite, he again frowned in deep concentration, routing psi-power from the all-pervasive psi-pool of the universe through the crystal.

  There was a sizzling sound in the air, and Hillory motioned the others to stand back and huddle down. Then came an explosive sound as some awesome para-force drilled through the rock pile with irresistible power.

  “Neat job,” crowed Barton, running forward. He had to stoop to get through the hole formed, but he beckoned the others. Hillory came last, his feet dragging, feeling as if he had climbed a mountain. His psi-reservoir was nearly drained, leaving a physical tiredness in every part of his body. Such were the penalties of handling gross amounts of psi-power.

  Merry paused to take his arm and help him along while Barton eagerly ran ahead. His yelp came back to them. “Here’s the treasure!”

  Rounding a bend in the passageway, Hillory and the girl saw Barton near a niche in the wall, marked with a huge crossbones emblem. He reached in and withdrew what lay within the niche.

  “The same many-colored crystal globe with coiled tape inside, naturally. Only one more tape to go and we have all four. Then, if we get the globes open and if we find out how to ‘play’ the tapes, we’ll know what the ‘treasure’ is—if any.”

  “A lot of ‘ifs’ to this,” nodded Merry. “Just what could tapes that space pirates buried so elaborately lead to? What sort of ‘treasure’ could it be?”

  “That’s an odd thought,” pondered Hillory. “Apparently the tapes themselves are not the ‘treasure’—or are they? It seems rather silly for pirates to bury tapes that would only lead to the real treasure somewhere, else. Maybe the tapes are really it, in some unfathomable way.”

  “Let’s stop gabbing and get out of here,” put in Barton nervously. “If Jorzz is invisibly following us and saw us find the treasure tape, he’ll strike again. Let’s not give him too much time.”

  Barton picked up the string that Hil
lory had unwound and began following it by hand, without reeling it in. As they went along in the cathedral silence, Hillory’s sixth sense warned him that the mind-alien was near. His pulse increasing, he peered warily ahead, hoping to anticipate whatever deadly surprise lay ahead. It was almost certain that Jorzz would strike at them now….

  Faintly, they heard a thumping sound, vaguely resembling ponderous footsteps. Looking blankly at one another they went on, reaching the huge rock chamber they had traversed before. Halfway across, they stood rooted in dread as the heavy footsteps became loud. Then they saw it—a towering stone figure.

  “Jorzz animated one of the stone idols,” gasped Hillory, almost in disbelief. “Tons and tons of rock. By some weird psi-manipulation of matter, he made the stone legs become temporarily flexible so that it could walk on them without breaking apart.”

  Their way was blocked and they darted toward the other side of the giant cavern, only to stop in horror. Before them lay a wide gorge in the cave floor, whose shadowy depths seemed to have no bottom.

  “We can’t jump it,” panted Barton, panic in his voice. “Trapped…trapped between the stone idol and a deep pit.”

  They huddled at the edge of the crevasse, staring in terror at the great stone idol as it stumped forward like a juggernaut. Hillory held his tektite and tried desperately to summon up a psi-blast.

  “Can’t make it,” he muttered. “Too drained…”

  “Your laser-gun, Jim,” screeched Merry. “Use it.”

  Barton pulled it out, wondering why he had not thought of it immediately. He fired, blasting a neat hole in the stone idol’s middle…but it kept coming.

  “Naturally it can’t ‘die’ or be wounded,” gulped Barton. “I’ll concentrate on one leg and try to cut it off.”

  He fired again and again, the ruby-red beam hissing like an angry snake. A series of holes appeared, running across the idol’s leg but not enough to sever it. It kept stomping toward them like a behemoth.