So the great machine that governed the galaxy had overlooked a single human detail, much as the psi precog had overlooked Harlan’s influence, and brought defeat upon itself. Mit and Hermine had been afraid of something like this, without being able to define it. Yet it still did not quite jell.
“If the lobos got to CC—why didn’t they destroy it?” Knot asked Finesse.
“Why destroy it—when you gave us the tool to make it ours?” Piebald queried in return. “When I realized what we had, I moved right in. I never expected to convert CC to our purpose, but when the chance came, I acted.”
The opportunist had scored. Cunning man! “But we left you at Planet Macho,” Finesse protested weakly.
“I took your ship.”
“You were not on the ship with us!” she argued. “Hermine would have been aware of you instantly!”
“Your scheduled ship, that proceeded directly here. It seemed there were vacancies.”
Piebald had taken Knot’s reservation, just as Knot had taken Fosfor’s reservation. “CC would never have admitted you; there are guards and precautions.”
“I used your identity, of course. Gloves with six fingers and four fingers. A crooked manner of walking. Face mask. The confusion caused by the animal mutiny assisted, and once I was aboard ship no one questioned me. CC, of course, was expecting you; you are distinctive enough in your way.”
“But still, the futures mutant, Drem, would have been watching, playing through an advance report. CC would have known before you arrived that something was wrong.”
“Do you suppose you are the only one adept at foiling such precautions? It seems there is now a randomizing psi associated with you, that prevents recognition of your activities and of events in your presence. I landed on this planet, hid, and waited two days until you arrived. Then, under cover of your null-precog, I slipped in just ahead of you and tapped out the code. Now I am emperor.”
Finesse was crestfallen. “We did it ourselves!” she said. “We opened the gate to the enemy. While we passed animals and babies back and forth, he was in here using the override code!”
“No wonder the animals were nervous!” Knot agreed. “We should have checked out their concern more specifically. We assumed the threat was to us personally, when actually it was to CC, to our mission.”
“But I made a phobia!” Finesse said to the lobo. “You should not have been able to approach!”
“Indeed, I could not approach you,” Piebald agreed. “But you were not yet at the terminal. I was able to fight off the fear long enough, though it was no pleasant exercise. Once I had control, I was able to go elsewhere. My holo, of course, is not affected by your power. I admit it was a ticklish maneuver, but worthwhile.”
Knot realized that the lobo was indeed as cunning and determined as Knot himself. Piebald was right: there were others who could do amazing things, when they had motive and opportunity. He had badly underestimated Piebald.
“Now I believe your usefulness has ended,” Piebald said. “I thank you most sincerely for the service you inadvertently rendered my cause, but now I need time to implement my program. So—”
Knot made a dive for the lobo, but passed right through the image. He had acted without thinking, and made a fool of himself. Yet the lobo seemed annoyed. “Damner!” he cried out. Was he swearing?
Then something seemed to take hold of Knot’s willpower. He righted himself and came to stand at attention. Then he advanced on Finesse.
“Knot!” she cried. “You look funny! What—?”
He grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her back against the wall of hay. His small left hand closed into a fist and drew back at shoulder elevation. He punched brutally forward at her nose.
And his fist shied away, as a sudden phobia inhibited him. He was afraid of her skin! He dared not let his hand touch it.
Then the compulsion left him. Now Finesse’s eyes glazed. Knot fell back, knowing her psi was about to attack him more devastatingly. What was happening?
As he moved, he saw a man standing in the doorway. He had the look of a psi about him.
“Damner, hold on to her,” the Piebald holo said. “She’s the dangerous one.”
So this was Damner—a mind-control psi. Probably posted here to protect CC—and now at the service of CC’s enemy. Knot lurched into the man, distracting him.
Immediately the man’s focus shifted back to Knot. He flung himself away from the controller.
But that released Finesse. Having experienced the psi-compulsion herself, she now knew what it was. She concentrated—and suddenly Damner was in terror. His eyes turned round and white and he cried out incoherently. She had given him a phobia, perhaps a fear of hay.
“Shift to her, I said!” Piebald shouted. “Stop her from using her psi on you!”
Damner made a visible effort—and Finesse stiffened, as Knot was released again. The man could handle only one person at a time.
Knot started forward again. “Marie! Nancy!” Piebald yelled.
Two grown female houndcats appeared in the doorway. Knot realized that Piebald must have brought them with him, his own guardians. This was trouble compounded.
Hermine! he thought. Loose the fighting cocks. Send them after the houndcats!
The holograph man pointed at Knot. “Attack!” Piebald ordered.
As one, the two sprang. They were impressive creatures by daylight, with large feline muscles and projecting canine snouts. They had grace and power and endurance, and were not to be balked long by a mere man. Not in fair combat.
Knot turned, grabbed a bale of hay by its two strings, and heaved it up. It was bulky and heavy, but desperation gave him strength. He used it clumsily to balk the two animals, then shoved it on top of them. Their teeth and claws dug into the hay, accomplishing nothing. They snarled and spat around mouthfuls of hay. Knot hauled out another bale, trying to bury them, but they writhed about and drew themselves free.
“Make her attack him!” Piebald yelled. “Cancel them both out!”
Knot heaved up a third bale, trying to score on Damner—but suddenly he, Knot, was deathly afraid of hay. The controller had done it, establishing the chain, making Finesse fight Knot. That, combined with the two houndcats, spelled doom.
Knot dropped the bale, backed away, banged into a wall of hay, recoiled in horror, charged forward, saw the bale on which the holograph image stood, froze in panic, would have fallen except that there was bay littering the floor, and realized that his only real escape lay outside this chamber, beyond Damner. Knot launched himself at the doorway with the strength of madness. In his urgency he trod on a houndcat, hardly noticing or caring; the creature snarled and tried to bite, and Knot kicked it fiercely on the snout, not in self-defense but just to get it out of his path of escape. He shoved past Damner, still heedless of all opposition other than hay. In that instant he could have hurled the man into a wall, perhaps hard enough to break the control—but Knot could take no time for that while he was near hay. In the back of his mind, as it were buried under hay, he realized that this was a way Finesse could make a devastating weapon of any person, making a berserker that could seriously disrupt an army.
Suddenly he was out of the chamber, panting his relief.
And he encountered a phalanx of elegant fighting cocks. These had bright spiked red combs, elongated dagger-like beaks, and feathers that most resembled protective padding against missiles. Their claws were so stout and sharp that their feet did not rest flat on the floor; instead they walked with a kind of springiness, the claw-points curving into the ground and gripping there. Their manner, too, was in no way reminiscent of flighty or timid creatures; their cruel little eyes peered at him aggressively from beneath visor-like ridges of headfeathers. Devastating birds!
Then he spied Hermine. She had brought the cocks; they were under her guidance. A man-mutant! he thought at her. Compulsion—he’s controlling Finesse. And two houndcats.
The weasel did not reply mentally; she wa
s too busy directing the traffic. The cocks dwarfed her; any one of them could have destroyed her in seconds by peck and slash. But the birds charged past Knot and into the chamber—just as the two houndcats were charging out in pursuit of him.
Knot flattened himself against the wooden wall as the two forces met in instant combat. Each hound massed quadruple what any cock did, but there were a dozen cocks whose fighting spirit was matchless. They met the houndcats not with fear or challenge but with scream-squawks of savage joy. Wings spread, revealing sharp little hookfeathers that helped them hold on to their prey; beaks plunged forward, and talons swiped the air.
The houndcats were no less eager to fight. Their long saber teeth flashed, their own claws flexed out, and their bodies hurtled into the fray. A cock was flung up toward the ceiling rafters, to descend bleeding, one wing broken, but still a crowing ball of ferocity. A houndcat screamed in pain as a beak caught her eye, making the fluids squirt; then she rolled on her back and caught the cock with all four feet, ripping it apart. The battle spilled out into the hall, fur and feathers flying, so violent and vicious it was impossible to tell which forces were prevailing.
Damner had been abraded by Knot’s precipitous passage. He leaned against the wall, gathering his will. Knot found himself no longer afraid of hay. He charged into the man, hitting him with his left shoulder, trying to knock the wind from him, then whirling into a combat throw. But his left side was small, and the leverage was wrong; he could not complete his throw effectively. He struggled to force the man over—
And froze, then let go. Damner’s will was on him again, forcing him to relax. The mutant’s psi was irresistible.
Then Damner screamed. Finesse, released, had struck with her own psi, invoking another terror. Damner fled down the hall, heedless of the fighting animals. Three cocks and a houndcat were hurled to the side to clear his way. He was berserk, as Knot had been. Then he was gone.
“I gave him claustrophobia, the most intense case,” Finesse said breathlessly as she came to Knot.
“Keep on him! Don’t let him recover equilibrium until we can set the cocks on him!”
She nodded and ran after Damner, keeping him in range. Should the controller’s range be larger than Finesse’s he might otherwise control her from beyond her ability to affect him, and he would surely not let her go again. She had to stay close. She was no longer needed here; the cocks had countered the houndcats.
That left one job for Knot. It was possible that Piebald had forgotten him now, at least for the moment, and that set up a critical opportunity. He thought to Hermine: Get the override code for me again. I’ve got to change CC back before Piebald realizes what I’m doing.
Mit says it won’t work.
But Knot moved on inside. He was glad he was no longer afraid of hay, and found it hard to imagine how he could have been, a moment ago. That demonstrated the power of Finesse’s psi, that overrode reason.
Finesse was right: she was not the same woman she had been. She would not be able to settle down with a normal man. Suppose she got mad and used her psi on him? It would not require many episodes of that to damage his love for her. She belonged with another psi mutant, who would respect her talent and understand her situation. She had used her psi on Knot, devastatingly; he still loved her. Would always love her. But he hoped she wouldn’t tease him with any more hay phobias.
Just give me the data, he thought to Hermine. Mit’s precog isn’t operating, is it? He doesn’t know whether this will work.
Hermine relayed the data reluctantly. Knot walked up to the terminal. The holograph of Piebald still stood above, watching him. No chance to be forgotten, then, but still it could work. As he understood it, the override code was preemptive; the most recent application of it would be the one in force. As with a chess piece taking over a square from the opponent’s piece occupying it.
“You’re one tough opponent,” the lobo said. “But I have already summoned reinforcements.”
Naturally Piebald would try to distract him, to prevent him from applying the code. Knot ignored him, and began tapping out the code pattern that Mit and Hermine provided.
“You will not be able to complete that override command,” Piebald said. The holo could do nothing now except talk; he could not interfere physically.
Knot kept tapping. “Why not? It takes time for reinforcements to arrive—several minutes, I happen to know—and there are a lot of aggressive birds in the way.” He was rather enjoying the lobo’s discomfiture. Once he achieved control of CC, he would act against Piebald immediately, to prevent any recurrence of this mutiny.
“Because I shall stop you.” The image raised its fist.
Knot laughed, almost losing his code-beat. “Strike, holo-lobo! You can’t touch me!”
Piebald took impressively careful aim, bracing himself exactly as though he expected substance to meet substance, putting on an excellent dramatic show. But Knot refused to be bluffed; he kept tapping, smiling.
The lobo struck—and the blow connected to the side of Knot’s face. It was no knockout strike, but its surprise made it devastating. Knot reeled back. “You’re real!” he gasped.
“I stepped onto the platform while you were occupied,” Piebald said, stepping down. “I thought you might try something cunning, like this; that’s the way my own mind works. I never depend on others to do my job for me; I use them only as front-line diversion. I don’t remember exactly how you got here, but I certainly know of you through my researches, and have been careful not to underrate you. Sure enough, you nullified both the psi mutant and the animals, and came here to finish the job. So I anticipated you, and acted to prevent it. You acted exactly as I would have acted, in your situation.”
So the lobo had begun to forget, when he had removed himself from Knot’s vicinity—but had come prepared for that. Knot’s code recital was forgotten; the unexpected blow had entirely disrupted that. His head was hurting. Had he realized—but the fact was this time the lobo had outsmarted him. To be lobotomized was not to lose intelligence or force of will; that was coming clearer the longer he interacted with Piebald.
Knot realized that his dream had abruptly been realized: he was alone with his archenemy, indulging in fair individual combat. His prior wounds still weakened him somewhat, but he knew he could do what he had to.
Knot launched himself into Piebald. He caught the man by the arm and swung him around. “I will refresh your memory,” he said, pausing before making his heave. “I blew up your volcano redoubt on Planet Macho. I set the bees on you, and burned up your arsonists and put your solar power plant on the blink.”
Then he heaved—but Piebald counterbalanced, dropping low and sticking out his hard stomach, making the throw impossible. Now his arm closed about Knot’s neck as he went into a stranglehold. The man knew combat technique.
“I appreciate that information,” the lobo said. “Now I shall destroy you and your girl and your two animals here; you are all too dangerous to allow to live, handy as you might otherwise be for our research program.” He tightened his grip, drawing Knot off balance.
Knot struggled, but was helpless. He could not get his feet under him to restore his balance, and could not reach any part of the lobo’s body. It was a fundamental principle: break a man’s balance, and you control him. Piebald had applied it expertly.
Knot’s consciousness was already fading, as the pressure on his neck transmitted to his carotid arteries. The sharp bones of Piebald’s arm pressed against the muscles of Knot’s neck, forcing them aside, making the arteries beneath vulnerable. Some people thought the jugular vein was the key spot, but it was not; the hidden carotids were the target of choice. The flow of blood to his brain was being cut off. In moments he would pass out.
Knot’s struggling feet hit something. A pitchfork, brought down by his prior manhandling of the bales. He hooked his feet about its handle and heaved up with all his remaining strength. Piebald was drawn slightly off balance himself, and had to let
Knot lower to the floor. The strangle remained tight, however, and Knot’s head was being shoved forward cruelly. Not only was he losing consciousness, his neck seemed to be getting near the breaking point.
Yet he had a slight advantage. His body was uneven, and this made the strangle less tight than it should have been. Thus he had a few extra seconds to fight. His flailing, long-armed right hand found the shaft. He grasped the pitchfork, hauled it up, and wrestled the tines upward toward his enemy’s face. His grip on the weapon was awkward, but both Piebald’s hands were occupied with the stranglehold, and the man could not block those long, sharp points. Knot shoved.
Piebald let go, avoiding the menace. Knot was free—but unable to rise. His consciousness was still too faint. The lobo snatched the pitchfork from his weakened grasp, lifted it high—
Cocks burst into the chamber, half winging, half running toward the lobo. Hermine had directed them to victory in the hail, and now was coming to Knot’s rescue.
Piebald drew back, swinging the pitchfork around to cover the cocks. “Terminal self-destruct!” he yelled.
The CC terminal, obedient to the command of the override master, exploded. The flash and concussion blinded and deafened Knot, and he relinquished consciousness at last.
• • •
Knot was roused in only a few minutes. “We won the battle, lost the war,” Finesse said sadly as she stroked his hair. “I made Damner so scared he knocked himself out against a wall. The two houndcats are dead. But Piebald escaped. There’s an access passage for CC serviceman.”
“Yes,” Knot agreed. “Piebald’s just as slippery as I am. He hid there, then came out. He must really have done his homework on CC before he came here. The lobos always make sure to know their enemy. He played every card on cue.”
“That means he’s still emperor. He didn’t destroy CC, just this terminal. We can’t override through this terminal, now, and it’s the only critical one on Planet Chicken Itza. We’re lost, unless we can trap Piebald on this planet.”
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