Higgins paused, then concluded thoughtfully, "I hope history will call our own time the Creative Age. Science could have been that, but despite its lip service it never really loved creativity, nor fostered the creative personality. Probably not one of its adults in a hundred was allowed to develop into effective creativity, and that alone was enough to doom the Science Age!"
Trembling with rage, Starn forced himself to sit down on the bed again. Such heresy was hard to endure! Especially that absurdity about the human mind influencing—actually changing!—DNA! As if the humble human intellect could not only enter the inviolable abode of the Sacred Gene in man, but could pillage there!
Still, Higgins had been right about one thing: the futility of religious argument between Pack man and Olsapern. And he might be right in his estimation of Nagister Nornt. The telehypnotic trader would indeed be a despicable vessel for the will of the Sacred Gene, particularly if he meant to subvert that will by murdering Starn's child.
At last Starn growled, "If you Olsaperns are so creative, why don't you create a way to catch Nagister Nornt?"
"Self-restraint," answered Higgins. "I'm not going to explain that, because it's something you shouldn't know. I'll only say that we limit ourselves, in our relations with the Pack people, in the materials and techniques we use. I'm pretty sure you won't believe that; otherwise I wouldn't have said even that much!"
"You're right, I don't!" grumbled Starn. "But never mind. You want me to find Nornt and kill him, don't you?"
Higgins nodded. "I'm prepared to give you a little help if you'll try."
"What kind of help?"
"Have you ever noticed that Treated men are poor hunters and fighters?" asked Higgins.
"No. The only ones I know are old men."
"Well, they are. The psychological block that keeps them from fighting us can't be strictly contained. It dims their combative spark generally. If you're going up against Nagister Nornt, you'll have a better chance if you're left Untreated. So here's my offer, Raid Leader: I'll release you without Treatment in return for your solemn oath to never participate in hostile action against normal—against the Old Sapiens as you call us—in the future."
Starn gave a grunt of disbelief. "You can't break your rules like that!"
"Rules are useful in ordinary situations," replied Higgins. "They are meant to be broken when an emergency demands radical action."
This was a strange attitude toward rules, but it was of no concern to Starn. The offer was one he felt he could honestly accept. "I solemnly promise not to war against the Olsaperns in the future," he said.
"Good! Now let's get you home! And this time, for pity's sake, follow your own ideas when you go after Nornt! Don't let anybody sidetrack you the way they did before!"
"Huh? Who sidetracked me? How?" demanded Starn.
"Your Pack chief. He insisted that you work with the Pack instead of going after Nornt as soon as you were aware of the danger! From what I've learned of this socalled 'surprise sense' of yours, I'm pretty sure you could have killed him then, while he was wounded and confused. All this glom would have been avoided!"
Starn stared at the man. Higgins was full of surprises, himself! He all but admitted the Olsaperns' inability to track down Nornt; he broke a basic rule to help Starn do the job instead; and now he seemed to be half-praising a Novo sense! But then the Olsaperns lacked a religion of their own, in opposition to that of the Packs. They had a sort of nonreligion. And maybe a nonreligion wasn't of much help in keeping a man's thinking straight. Or maybe the Olsaperns were finally falling apart, as they were destined to do sooner or later, anyway.
But Starn found Higgins' advice in accord with his own thinking, so he nodded. "I wished many times that I had gone after Nornt immediately. If I had settled everything then, Cytherni and I would still be like we were."
"I don't know about that," frowned Higgins. "I think you could have killed him, but he would probably have finished you while you were doing it! What I'm saying is that this whole glom would have been avoided, which would have suited me fine!"
5
Starn returned to Foser Compound for two days, just long enough to pay his respects to his parents and The Foser and to rearm himself. He needed a telepathic companion, and was pleased when Huill volunteered. He had learned that Huill had been captured by the Olsaperns because he had stayed at the electric fence, trying to free Starn, until it was too late to escape. Even though Huill had been Treated, Starn felt high confidence in him. They set out on horseback, following Nornt to the south. Trailing the trader, which the Olsaperns had found all but impossible, was no job at all for them. They could ask friendly questions and get friendly answers from the folk who lived along the way. Nornt was not trying to conceal his tracks. He was trading as he went, in his usual manner. The telepaths Huill communicated with generally knew where Nornt intended to make his next few stops, but he was avoiding thoughts of his winter destination.
"He's worrying everybody," remarked Huill after they were several days on the road. "They don't like the way he's thinking. He wants . . . everything! He was vaguely like that all along, but since he captured those Olsapern weapons and took Cytherni, he's much worse! He thinks about having children who will be telehypnotics like himself, and about getting craftsmen together who can copy those weapons. He's figuring his sons and weapons will make him king of the world!"
Starn nodded grimly. "The Olsaperns seem to be afraid of something like that," he agreed.
"I thought they'd never quit probing at me about him and his Novo ability," complained Huill. It went on for hours, and they got more worried, the more I told them! They made me talk a lot about you, too."
"I can imagine," said Starn.
"But your Novo ability didn't worry them. It just aroused their curiosity, because it was something they had never heard of before."
"Isn't Nornt's a new one, too?" Starn asked.
"They don't think so . . . well, of course, you know they don't think any Novo senses are really new, and that people had them back when we were still almost like the apes a million years ago. But they think there have been people with a little of what Nornt has in historical times—a combination of telepathy and hypnotic force. They think men like Alexander, Hitler, Rasputin, Barstokee and Quillet had touches of it."
"All those men were supposed to be crazy," Starn remarked.
"And you think Nornt isn't!" said Huill. "The Olsaperns call him a megalomaniac."
"They seem to know all about him, except how to catch him," Starn remarked wryly.
"They're a knowing bunch of people," replied Huill seriously. "Of course, they're wrong about, a lot of things, too, like thinking we're subhuman and that the Novo senses aren't worth studying, much less having. But you know what, Starn?"
"What?"
"One of the Olsaperns who questioned me would be a telepath if he could let himself. He had the sense; I could feel the shape of it in him. But, somehow, he couldn't use it at all. I guess because if he could, that would've made him a Pack man."
The mountains slanted eastward to the south and Nornt's trail gradually climbed into the higher foothills. Starn had been thinking for days about possible strategies of attack, but as he and Huill approached maximum telepathic range of the trader he dropped these thoughts. Instead, he concentrated on getting into a position where he and Huill would have flexibility of action—where his special sense would have plenty of room in which to work.
The foothills seemed right for this. They were almost empty of people, and provided a variety of covers and obstacles, without fettering choices the way high mountains could.
He was under no delusion that victory was assured. Nornt had around twenty slavies to throw into the fight, and he would not hesitate to expose them to any risk imaginable to save himself.
But in compensation, Starn had his advantage of surprise. This was no small thing in conflicts where full telepathic knowledge of the opponents' plans and strategies was taken fo
r granted. As Raid Leader of Pack Foser, Starn's unanticipated actions and decisions had often given his men a more than momentary advantage, because of the time required for the enemy to shift forces to meet a totally unexpected situation.
They were riding up a thickly-wooded valley, following the bed of an ancient highway, when Huill made contact with Nornt's rear guard. "Three of them!" he reported.
"About half a mile ahead of us and a mile behind the main train with one telepathic relay between them! They're on horseback!"
"Let's take them!" snapped Starn, pushing his mount into a gallop.
Huill stayed alongside him. He chuckled. "Nornt didn't expect us! He's in a panic . . . Something about getting to Pile-Up Mountain . . . Hey, guess what? He premotes the Olsaperns are in this with us! Instead of running he's driving his wagons off the road to get them out of sight of Olsapern fliers!"
"Why does he think that? Can't he read us?"
"Yeah, but he thinks we could be leading the Olsaperns to him without us knowing about it! He figures they made you trackable somehow while you were captured!" It was a strange but possible notion which Starn wondered about briefly and dismissed. There were more urgent matters to think of.
"Can we overtake the rear guard before they reach the wagons?" he asked.
"I think so. He's making them slow up to hold us back while he fortifies himself. He's trying to get the Olsapern guns set up! Hey, the rear guard's turned off to the west! Nornt figures we'll either have to follow them down or take a chance of having them come in behind us!"
"He's right," said Starn grimly. "We follow the rear guards. Lead the way!"
A short distance farther Huill swung off to the right in the track of the three riders. Meanwhile, he reported, Nornt was deploying his men in defensive positions.
"Can you read Cytherni?" asked Stare.
"Indirectly, yes. She's all right. He's still leaving her alone in return for her good behavior. She doesn't know what's scaring him . . . doesn't know you're here."
"What about the men we're chasing?"
"They're riding hard, and Nornt's looking for a good place for them to make a stand." A few minutes passed.
"Stop!" yelled Huill.
"They've ridden out of range! No need to chase them any farther."
"How'd they outdistance us?" Starn demanded.
"Not us! I mean they're out of Nornt's range! They're not his men any longer! And not our enemies . . . not much use to themselves either!" Huill looked a bit sick from what he was seeing in the ex-slavies' minds. "They'll die soon if somebody doesn't find them and take them in."
"Let's head back," Starn ordered. They turned their horses and he asked, "Why did he let them get away?"
"He didn't intend to. It's hard to judge telepathic range when you travel twisted roads like these. He's down to seventeen men now."
Starn nodded, wondering if he and Huill would have to fight them all before getting at Nornt.
"He sure means for us to!" said Huill. "He's trying to locate ten of them out where they can close in on us no matter where we strike!" He described the terrain between them and Nornt, and the placement of the defenders.
They were less than a mile from the wagons when Starn noticed a trail angling off to the left and apparently up a low ridge that paralleled the road. Without hesitation he swung his mount into the trail and up the ridge.
"He didn't notice this trail," informed Huill.
"I hoped he hadn't. How many men are in front of us?"
"Just four on the ridge. But those across the road are moving over to head us off . . . A steep bank in the roadcut's blocking them! They can't get up in time!"
Starn grinned. His sense was working with its usual success! "Nornt's crazy-mad!" Huill reported gleefully.
"You ought to read the things he's thinking about us! He's going to fight his men like maniacs!"
"Be ready to yell and jump for cover the instant one of them sees us," warned Starn.
Their horses galloped along the silent ridge, both men sharply alert.
"Jump!" Huill yelled suddenly.
Starn tensed but didn't jump. Instead he spurred his horse into a sudden sprint forward.
Gunfire spurted from the bushes ahead, and Starn heard an answering bark from Huill's long-gun. His surprise maneuver had fooled the defenders, though. At least two of them fired where he would have been if he had jumped, and the other two had shot at Huill. Before they could cock and re-aim he had ridden past them and leaped from his horse. They were caught between an enemy in front and an enemy behind.
His first shot downed the only slavie in plain sight, while Huill yelled hoarsely, telling him there were two left and their locations. Starn stayed low, making swift moves as his sense inspired him. The slavies took several shots, all aimed at him as far as he could tell. Huill's gun spoke twice more giving him covering fire. Finally he brought a slavie into plain view and shot him through the chest as he was raising his gun.
"The last one's taking off down the south slope!" called Huill in a tight voice.
Is Huill hurt? Starn wondered, dashing after the slavie.
"In the leg, just as I jumped!" Huill yelled the reply.
"Get him and hurry back!"
Starn put caution aside as he dashed after his quarry. When he was halfway down the hillside and approaching a rocky bald area he heard Huill's distant bellow. "To your left!"
Starn dropped on his backside to slide down a pebbly stretch while his eyes searched for the enemy. A spurt of gunfire, aimed too high, revealed the man, and Starn threw a pistol shot at him. The man rolled out of his hiding place with dying hands clutching his stomach.
"They're up the bank!" Starn heard Huill's dim call. Hurriedly he started back, losing his footing once on the loose pebbles. He had not gone far when he heard Huill shout, "They're on me!" A volley of shots rang out.
"Huill!" he called in the ensuing silence. No answer.
Without hesitation but with deep sorrow, Starn turned left toward the wagons, fighting his way through the undergrowth at a dead run. Telepathically blind now, his only hope was to bull and sense his way through to Nornt, and kill the man before the slavies could kill him. From what Huill had said of the terrain, the wagons and their master had to be somewhere below the south end of the ridge. If he could find a high spot that overlooked them . . .
He could hear the slavies thrashing through the woods some distance to his rear and to his right. At best, he had only a half-minute lead on them. He would have to hurry if he—
A long-gun spurted from behind a tree just ahead of him and a slug hit his left shoulder, knocking him sprawling. He clung to his rifle but was lying on top of it. Before he could get it into action the slavie stepped out of hiding and shot him in the right forearm.
"I gave your friend a clean death, Starn the Olsaperns' eunuch!" said the slavie, voicing Nornt's thoughts with an expressionless face. "He was a mere telepath who never did me any real harm. But you and that quick knife of yours have caused me much pain! During the next few minutes, before you die, you're going to suffer as much as I have in the past two months!"
The slavie's gun fired again, and the slug tore into Starn's left ankle. The other slavies had arrived by then, and a couple of them got out their knives and began methodically slashing and stabbing Starn's limbs and body, careful not to deliver any immediately fatal wounds, and pausing when he almost blacked out.
"You should see yourself, eunuch!" said the first slavie.
"What a revolting shambles you are! Even your friends the Olsaperns couldn't patch your body now! Especially after we break your spine in a few places! Try to stay with us for this, eunuch! I don't want you to miss any of the fun!"
But when something heavy struck him in the small of the back, the torture ended for Starn.
He was shocked into sudden wakefulness. Overhead was a white ceiling he had seen before, and at one side was the remembered face of the Olsapern Higgins. Two white-clad medics were de
taching electrodes from his chest and wheeling a machine away from his bedside.
"Sorry we couldn't get there fast enough to save more of you, Starn," said Higgins. "And there was nothing we could do for your friend Huill. He was shot through the head. But we arrived in time to keep them from damaging your brain, and everything else is replaceable." Starn regarded him steadily and replied, "I'm not grateful for this, Olsapern."
Higgins muttered "I suppose not," and turned away for a moment. Then he asked, "How do you feel?"
"Like I ought to be dead," grunted Starn. But he sat up with a feeling of dreamy detachment and looked down at his bare body.
No, not his body, but a fair copy. At least it wasn't the patchwork of grafts he expected to see. But on the other hand, it was not quite real human flesh. And it definitely did not feel real. The sensations of touch, when he experimentally squeezed his left arm, were strange. His brain got the message all right: that his forearm was being squeezed by his right hand. But it was as if the message was in a new language with a new sound. There was no suggestion of pain, for one thing.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Your body? It's an artificial structure, a sort of machine of pseudo-flesh and bone. I'm sorry it has to be artificial. We can regenerate your entire body—your brain contains all the information needed for that, of course—but that takes time we don't have. Nagister Nornt is still at large, and your wife is still in his hands."
"She can stay there," retorted Starn dully. "He defeated me in a fair fight—his Novo abilities against mine. That ends it."
Higgins frowned thoughtfully. "You mean he's proved himself your superior, and has earned the privilege of mating with your wife, and destroying your own child, without further interference from you," he said.
Starn winced but nodded.
"That's the will of your Sacred Gene, so to speak."
Again Starn nodded.
Higgins grunted in disgust. "I halfway anticipated this! How do you like that? I anticipated your attitude without being a premonitor! Get some clothes on! I'm sending you on a little trip!"
A Sense of Infinity Page 36