Tiger in the Stars

by Zach Hughes

  darkness. He felt the first pinch of teeth, felt the small rippings, screamed and struggled against his chains. He could move his head. When the rats began to attack him there, teeth ripping his ears, small bodies leaping and brushing against his lips, his nose, his closed eyes, he began to jerk his head from side to side, screaming. He felt the teeth sink into his nose and he bit, closing on a small, squeaking body. He spat and screamed and bit and a section of his lower lip was torn away and an eyelid felt the bite of teeth and his body was a sea of fiery pain as hundreds of teeth sank, tore, ripped. For a moment sanity went and he struggled wildly, screaming hoarsely. A vein was open in his throat. He could feel the pumping of his blood. And in the depth of his mind came a flash of insight. At first, when he was being eaten by the tiger, there was no blood. He clung to that thought as he was slowly devoured. He punched the coordinates wearily into the generator and blinked back, trying once more. The accelerator. The fire of the deadly beams. In total darkness, he recognized the odor. He had smelled it before, in an Earth zoo. The reptile pit. Even as he recognized it, a rattle sounded near his ear and something struck his naked flank, sinking fangs. Pain shot up as deadly poison was injected, and he leaped to his feet only to bang his head painfully against a low, stone ceiling. He sat. Around him the snakes hissed and rattled; fangs shot into his flesh as he writhed. But, he told himself, when I was fighting the tiger there was no blood. It is only the mechanical form of the mobile unit. I have no flesh, no body. He could feel the poison from repeated strikes creeping through him, fire burning him. And as death closed down once again, he forced himself to laugh. The sound was weak, croaking, but it was a laugh. This time he did not, immediately, attack. He waited to allow himself some thinking time. Obviously, he was not going to be killed. He had been taken through all of his old childhood horrors. The only thing left was being boiled alive in oil. He punched, fired and screamed as he was

  lowered, slowly, into the huge vat of bubbling oil. He felt his skin shrivel. The pain was unbelievable. He screamed again and again as the boiling liquid engulfed him, his feet, his calves, his knees, his groin, his soft stomach skin. Regaining control, he willed the pain to stop. It did not stop. It crept upward, to his chest, to his neck. Then he was halted in his downward motion, and seas of agony swept over him. But instead of a scream, the raspy, eerie laugh came from his lips. Once again he willed the pain to stop and slowly, steadily, he gained control. «You will have to destroy me,» he said aloud, seated in the scout. «That is your only choice. Destroy me or talk.» Below him, the planet went wild. Quakes buckled the crust, sent wild constructions toppling. Fire and lightning flashed, inflicting tremendous destruction. The sea rose and smashed the shore, inundating thousands of the erratic constructions. Volcanoes appeared where no volcanoes had been, spouting fire and smoke, darkening the atmosphere. Plank laughed wildly. He punched, blinked and was ready to fire. «I'll give you a hand,» he said, «since you seem to want to wreck the whole place.» But the area surrounding the atomic accelerator was unharmed and his beams did not touch it, smoking instead into a previous area of destruction as he was, once again, shifted. The voice in his head had a petulant quality. Why can't you be nice? Plank roared. The sound was a mixture of rage and laughter. He punched in the coordinates and blinked and fired and felt the shiftings and he was seated in a luxurious chair in a comfortable room. He had a glass of good brandy in his hand. Soft music, his favorite, wafted from

  huge, but invisible, speakers. A fire burned cozily in a fireplace. He heard a door opening, turned his head. Hara, dressed in a gleaming white swimsuit, smiled down at him, her pale hair hanging to her shoulders. He was armed. He had been shifted from the scout with his hand weapon at his side. Hara walked toward him, hips swinging with a seductive movement that he knew, immediately, was not Hara. True, she looked real. «Oh, John,» Hara said. «It's been so long.» «Yes,» he said, taking out his weapon, aiming it. The beam lanced out and encountered the sweet, soft area of her navel. It cut through. He swept it and her upper body was floating, legs working sweetly as she continued to move toward him, a woman cut in half, her stomach missing. «John,» Hara said, «be nice.» With a wild cry, he blasted the thing, sweeping up and down until there was left only smoking particles on the floor. Then he turned the weapon on the room and began to destroy it. Walls burned through, the roof crashed down on him, crushing him, burying him. He lay beneath the wreckage for hours, his life ebbing slowly away. This time, he hoped, it would be a real death. He was tired. Real or not, he had endured the pain of death and dismemberment. And it was all for nothing. He was merely a man, not even a whole man. And he was fighting hopelessly against overwhelming odds with no chance of winning. Give up, then. Die. But, failing to find the peace of death, fight on. Try once again. If he were nothing more than nuisance, that, at least, was something. He was not simply going to give up, do the creature's bidding. He vented some of his frustration on the blasted planet, smashing and destroying with impunity until, once again, the area of the atomic installation was in his sights and this time a wild sound of fury filled his mind and the scout was buffeted and thrown by insane forces; he himself was jerked and drained as the erratic movements created monstrous g-forces. But even that had to end. «You will have to destroy me,» he said aloud. He felt a presence. He was being washed in a sea of anger. «Destroy me,» he said. Slowly the anger abated, leaving a blankness, a silence. Plank slowly punched in the coordinates and was ready to activate the generator. Come, the voice said in his mind. The room was red. Softness was under his feet. The walls seemed less than solid. They tended to writhe as he tried to gain perspective. There were changing colors and shapes, a panorama of eerie beauty. The furnishings were low and luxurious. He sensed that things had changed, that there was a new element in his relationship with his unseen enemy. He choose a low, padded freeform protrusion from the soft floor of the room and sat, cross-legged. «Do we talk?» he asked. A wall glimmered, altered, became a huge viewport. The galaxy swept away in glory and grandeur. Plank felt a strangeness. Gradually, he faded away from himself, merging, becoming one with a mind that dominated his will, left him no thoughts of his own. In swift movement, stars streamed past as he moved with incredible speed, true speed, speed not related to a blink—the instant shortcut between distant points. He was moving physically through the galaxy and scattered stars became more than mere pinpoints of light; distances were as nothing and the overall awareness of form, content, the clockwork movement of the massive wheel of stars was his, his to know and possess. For one fleeting moment he felt a surge of triumph. They had finally become irritated enough with him to do something. He did not know why, but they were taking time to explain, to communicate. But his triumph faded, overwhelmed by the sensation of seeing the universe before him and that he was no longer Plank but a part of something else. It was as if he were in the mind of another being, seeing through eyes other than his own, and the universe was no more permanent than he. The universe was

  his, all of it, spread out in its lights and darks from the nearby stars to the

  distant clouds. He could hasten the natural evolution of a star and cause it

  to fall into itself to bloom in a blaze of light, which was pleasing to him, because he had caused it. He could see deep down into things, and he

  realized that the simplest atom had a life of its own, a purpose. That life, that purpose, could be altered but not exterminated. He shared the movements of the most minute subatomic particles. He felt pride, knowing that he was the culmination of endless advancement, greater than the galaxy, lesser than the universe. Far out, on the periphery, where stars were thin and darkness ruled, he felt loneliness. Behind him in time stretched a glorious history; now he was alone and his greatness was diminished by something there. He hated it. It stood between him and his destiny. He, the most powerful force in the galaxy, was denied exit from that galaxy by something there, something he could not understand. He felt a soundless, mindless scream of frustration.
He was Plank. There were no words, but there was communication. He had intruded, back on Plank's World, on the favorite game. This was a minor anger now, for the little animals would breed and increase their numbers again. No words, but he heard. You dare to stand between us and a greater game. However, we will find them, the others. Submerged again, Plank shared a feeling of obscene delight. We will savor the moment and make it last for more than a moment. Plank tried to speak, show his resistance. Once more we try to explain. Not in words, but inside him. He was outbound on a ship. Charts before him showed dots representing inhabited planets. The scope of the civilization was awesome, covering large areas of the galaxy. «We were the first intelligent life form,» he was told. «All this was created for us. And other life existed, but only to serve us. We used it, refined it, made useless forms into something of value.» He saw the food creatures of Plank's World. «See how beautiful, how functional. They exist for us. We made them to provide our food. And though we are now advanced beyond the need, we remember the pleasure; and it is only a game, a game to help pass away the endless eons of time.» Motion ceased. Around him were the changing lights of the strange room. He was himself again, but the communications continued. «You pride yourself on producing a drive much like the one existing in the primitive ship we gave you. This and other incidentals allow you to

  consider yourself intelligent life. There is only one form of intelligent life. You are a quirk, a miscalculation. You have rudimentary intelligence and this is a sadness, for you will never advance beyond your miserable state. Your tiny brain serves only to make you useful to me. If only you knew the

  effort of will it took to permit your brain to continue to exist, but that is beyond your understanding. Listen closely and I will explain. You have, in your background, an analogy. You enjoy fishing for the small creatures of the waters. You lower a lure or a bait into the water and feel an

  excitement. It is so with us. It is an amusement. In recent time we felt, but

  could not believe that we felt, the force of the ancients, the movement of a mechanical ship out of time and space. We know that the ancients are gone, that they could not exist. And yet we feel the signal again and we

  pull, directing our force into the affected area of space without being able to pinpoint the location. We catch and are disappointed, for the primitive ship has no life. Ten times we pull, and ten times we have lifeless metal. We increase the power of our lure and, ah, we catch the first of your kind. We are astounded, but we enjoy. There are no more of the nibbles caused by the force of the ancients, but we receive tiny, random signals and it is difficult. We dedicate ourselves to the fishing, and we catch now and again. Then we caught you and exercised supreme will to preserve the tastiest part of you, the brain, for we wanted to give you a continued existence so that you could serve us. You proved useful from the beginning, finding a planet of the food creatures, one we had overlooked. Now you will lead us to your own planet, a planet of super-food creatures.» Plank struggled, trying to protest, trying to free his mind. «Do not anger us. You have already annoyed us. You were grown to serve us. You are nothing more than a freak mutation, a slight advance over what you think of as the slugs, and you are ours to enjoy. You can

  help, but you resist. It is hopeless to resist, for you have already given us the location of your home planet. It is merely a matter of doing the boring checking of the mechanical toys, wherein are the data necessary.» «No,» Plank said, forcing past the mind-bending force. «The master of the galaxy is, by fate, meant to be alone. It pleases us to use you as a momentary diversion. We will allow you to exist for what to you will be an eternity. We bend even more. We offer you the woman thing. What you think of as your mobile form is actually more sophisticated than your own primitive flesh. You want more? Ah, well, with billions awaiting us we can be generous. We give you a dozen others of your kind. Even 100 of your choosing. Together you will serve us. You

  will exist and know pleasure. You will be free to hunt the galaxy for us. We have seen the suns too many times and travel bores us. You will be our arm. While you hunt to give us pleasure, we will concentrate on the limitation. Observe.» The dark ship was flashing outward toward the edge of the galaxy, Plank aboard. Then he was not aboard, but outside, watching as the ship moved in normal space away from the finest sprinkle of stars into the deep blackness. Suddenly it smashed. «You anger me almost beyond endurance with your joy to discover that

  we are limited, confined to this galaxy. We consider projecting you, living,

  into the heat and fire of a star, there to linger. Or we might have a tiny bit of enjoyment with the remaining morsel of your flesh. But no. There is the

  game and we have use for you. It is pointless to resist. Look. See us in our natural form. Are we not magnificent? Do not feel belittled. Note how functional, how balanced. Four walking appendages for stability, four sets of hands for dexterity beyond your belief. We are the ultimate form of mobile life and your ignorance is shown by your repugnance, not recognizing true beauty. But you will realize our beauty as time goes on. Now we give you your friends. Now we proceed with the game.» Plank was in a room. A door opened. Hara and Heath entered. Plank's

  eyes saw the slightly strange texture of their skin. With a sinking feeling of sorrow, he knew that they were now like him. CHAPTER FOURTEEN «Where are you?» Plank asked, as Hara and Heath looked around in surprise. «I was going to ask you that,» Heath said. «I mean, do you know where your brains are?» Plank asked. A look of fear crossed Hara's face. '"We're like you?» «Yes.» She felt herself, running her hands over her body. She was dressed in her uniform. She looked the same, but Plank knew. «Think,» Plank said. «See if you have any indication of where your brains are being kept.» «It's blank,» Hara said. «I'll repeat the question,» Heath said, looking slightly dazed. «Where are we as we are?» «The tinker-toy planet,» Plank said. «And them?» «Here,» Plank glanced swiftly around the room. It was the same, but the walls were solid. The huge screen or viewport was not in evidence. «You're my reward for being a good boy,» he said. «I can have a total of 100.» «They know?» Heath asked. «Not yet. They're going over the records of the communicators. It sounds as if it might be a slow process, a process that bores them. I don't know how much time we have.» «You have a weapon,» Heath said, noting Plank's side arm. «Not effective against them,» Plank said. «They, or it—since I think it uses the 'we' pronoun as royalty used to use it on Earth—well, it's pretty powerful.» «Is there anything we can do?» Hara asked. «I don't know. I know this. I know what it looks like in what it calls its primary form. It's a cross between an animal and an insect. It can change

  forms—the eater on the other planet was one. I think it's insane, at least by our standards. It's very old. It thinks it owns the galaxy, and it probably

  does. It has fantastic powers over all physical matter. And it plans to make a meal of everyone on Earth and the Centauri planets. It equates us with

  the slugs on Plank's World. It discounts our intelligence. It considers us as low as the animals and wants us to do its hunting, because it doesn't like

  to travel around the galaxy. It wants us to find planets where there's life. Apparently, there used to be more than one 'it,' and these creatures seeded

  planets with the little slug animals for food. It thinks we evolved from the slugs and are, therefore, just a bit bigger morsel of food.» «Is there any way we can warn Earth?» Heath asked. «I don't think so, and I doubt it would do any good if we could,» Plank

  said. «If anything can be done, we have to do it; and we have to do it while

  it's concentrating on finding the location of Earth. There's one small thing in our favor. It has a certain amount of arrogance. It's so sure it's all

  powerful that it probably won't be watching us very closely. I think it gets involved in what it's doing. Back on Plank's World I surprised it. Flew right above it without being seen.» «Perhaps we can find the ship and just get out of here,» suggested Ha
ra. «Get back to Earth and try to organize a defense.» «I don't know where the ship is,» Plank said. «I do know that the dark ship is destroyed. The creature smashed it into some sort of barrier out beyond the edge of the galaxy.» «A barrier?» Heath asked.

  «It talks of being limited. I have the idea that it's limited to this galaxy,

  that it can't get out. Now we know that light goes in and out of the galaxy, but when the dark ship was driven at the barrier, the ship just crunched.» «Something out there more powerful than that thing?» Hara asked. «Yes.» «Or a natural phenomenon,» Heath said. «I might have been able to believe that once,» Plank said. «Back when I wouldn't have believed that a being could push a star into the nova stage and move planets, I might have believed that such a force, capable of closing in a galaxy, would have had to be natural and unexplained. Now I'm not so sure.» Plank was looking around the room. He discovered an opening, pushed at the panel. It was unmovable. He used his weapon to cut a hole large enough for exit. The way led upward. They were far underground, but their artificial bodies did not tire as they ran up stairs designed not for human feet, but for the four feet of the creature. They emerged on the surface in the devastated area around the communications structure. All was quiet. Knowing the directions well, Plank led the way toward the accelerator. Once before he had attacked the creature there and had aroused response. He knew of no other course of action. He had no plan. They ran swiftly through the ruins, and when Plank reached the undestroyed area around the accelerator building, he slowed, moved with caution. If the creature were using his ability, then it knew their exact location; but they had no choice but to proceed. The huge accelerator was empty. The surrounding buildings, more practical than the random construction, were obviously laboratories, very functional laboratories. They, too, were empty. «When it finally gave in and decided to try to convince me by reason rather than by power, it took me into that underground room where I was when you joined me,» Plank said. «I know from experience that it values only the area surrounding the accelerator, not even the building that housed the communications bank. It seemed to be willing to let me destroy everything else on this crazy planet. Most of the constructions are nonfunctional, mere exercises in building. We know that it's busy now checking the tapes from the dark ship's communicator, and we know that those tapes were in the communications bank. But the creature isn't there now. That leaves two possibilities. Either it has another communications facility somewhere or it's picked out the information and has already left the planet.» «Or it's merely being undetectable,» Hara said. «I know a way to test that,» Plank said. «But first let's check around. If it has another underground communications facility, the entrance should be here in the area it was willing to protect.» Plank had a feeling that time was running out. He led a desperate search concentrated in the area of the atomic installations. The construction of the area was more logical, from the human viewpoint, but still was the work of an alien mind. «I know how a laboratory rat must feel trying to find its way through a maze,» Hara sighed, after an hour of fruitless search. «It said finding the coordinates would be a time-consuming process,» Plank said, «but enough time has passed. I could have gone through the tapes myself by now. I'm sure it's had time.» One by one, aboard the small scout, they made the trip up to the orbiting Pride. When they were together in the lounge, Plank said, «There's still one very important thing we have to know.» «I've been thinking about that,» Heath said. «Your first question, where are we?» «Yes. My home base is right here, on the ship. Where's yours?» «I feel complete,» Hara said. «It's difficult for me to believe that my brain might be down on the planet somewhere.» «We have to find them,» Plank said. «I know that I can be in more than one place at once, but I do it through mechanical extensions. My brain