Jason had to find a better solution. One that would stop all the fighting on this planet and allow the two groups of humans to live in peace.
“I will do nothing to injure your people, Rhes—and everything in my power to aid them,” Jason said.
This half answer satisfied Rhes, who could see only one interpretation of it. He spent the rest of the morning on the communicator, arranging for the food supplies that were being brought to the trading site.
“The supplies are ready and we have sent the signal,” he said. “The truck will be there tomorrow and you will be waiting for it. Everything is arranged as I told you. You’ll leave now with Naxa. You must reach the meeting spot before the trucks.”
XIX.
“Trucks almost here. Y’know what to do?” Naxa asked.
Jason nodded, and looked again at the dead man. Some beast had torn his arm off and he had bled to death. The severed arm had been tied into the shirt sleeve, so from a distance it looked normal. Seen close up this limp arm, plus the white skin and shocked expression on the face, gave Jason an unhappy sensation. He liked to see his corpses safely buried. However he could understand its importance today.
“Here they’re. Wait until his back’s turned,” Naxa whispered.
The armored truck had three powered trailers in tow this time. The train ground up the rock slope and whined to a stop. Krannon climbed out of the cab and looked carefully around before opening up the trailers. He had a lift robot along to help him with the loading.
“Now!” Naxa hissed.
Jason burst into the clearing, running, shouting Krannon’s name. There was a crackling behind him as two of the hidden men hurled the corpse through the foliage after him. He turned and fired without stopping, setting the thing afire in midair.
There was the crack of another gun as Krannon fired, his shot jarred the twice-dead corpse before it hit the ground. Then he was lying prone, firing into the trees behind the running Jason.
Just as Jason reached the truck there was a whirring in the air and hot pain ripped into his back, throwing him to the ground. He looked around as Krannon dragged him through the door, and saw the metal shaft of a crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder.
“Lucky,” the Pyrran said. “An inch lower would have got your heart. I warned you about those grubbers. You’re lucky to get off with only this.” He lay next to the door and snapped shots into the now quiet wood.
Taking out the bolt hurt much more than it had going in. Jason cursed the pain as Krannon put on a dressing, and admired the singleness of purpose of the people who had shot him. They had risked his life to make his escape look real. And also risked the chance that he might turn against them after being shot. They did a job completely and thoroughly and he cursed them for their efficiency.
Krannon climbed warily out of the truck, after Jason was bandaged. Finishing the loading quickly, he started the train of trailers back towards the city. Jason had an anti-pain shot and dozed off as soon as they started.
While he slept, Krannon must have radioed ahead, because Kerk was waiting when they arrived. As soon as the truck entered the perimeter he threw open the door and dragged Jason out. The bandage pulled and Jason felt the wound tear open. He ground his teeth together; Kerk would not have the satisfaction of hearing him cry out.
“I told you to stay in the buildings until the ship left. Why did you leave? Why did you go outside? You talked to the grubbers—didn’t you?” With each question he shook Jason again.
“I didn’t talk to—anyone.” Jason managed to get the words out. “They tried to take me, I shot two—hid out until the trucks came back.”
“Got another one then,” Krannon said. “I saw it. Good shooting. Think I got some, too. Let him go Kerk, they shot him in the back before he could reach the truck.”
That’s enough explanations, Jason thought to himself. Don’t overdo it. Let him make up his mind later. Now’s the time to change the subject. There’s one thing that will get his mind off the grubbers.
“I’ve been fighting your war for you Kerk, while you stayed safely inside the perimeter.” Jason leaned back against the side of the truck as the other loosened his grip. “I’ve found out what your battle with this planet is really about—and how you can win it. Now let me sit down and I’ll tell you.”
More Pyrrans had come up while they talked. None of them moved now. Like Kerk, they stood frozen, looking at Jason. When Kerk talked, he spoke for all of them.
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. Pyrrus is fighting you—actively and consciously. Get far enough out from this city and you can feel the waves of hatred that are directed at it. No, that’s wrong—you can’t because you’ve grown up with it. But I can, and so could anyone else with any sort of psi sensitivity. There is a message of war being beamed against you constantly. The life forms of this planet are psi-sensitive, and respond to that order. They attack and change and mutate for your destruction. And they’ll keep on doing so until you are all dead. Unless you can stop the war.”
“How?” Kerk snapped the word and every face echoed the question.
“By finding whoever or whatever is sending that message. The life forms that attack you have no reasoning intelligence. They are being ordered to do so. I think I know how to find the source of these orders. After that it will be a matter of getting across a message, asking for a truce and an eventual end to all hostilities.”
A dead silence followed his words as the Pyrrans tried to comprehend the ideas. Kerk moved first, waving them all away.
“Go back to your work. This is my responsibility and I’ll take care of it. As soon as I find out what truth there is here—if any—I’ll make a complete report.” The people drifted away silently, looking back as they went.
TO BE CONCLUDED
SYNOPSIS
Jason din Alt is a professional gambler. He is understandably suspicious when a total stranger, Kerk Pyrrus, gives him twenty-seven million credits in cash to gamble with. Kerk is a mystery. Though middle- aged, he is the strongest man with the fastest gun Jason has ever met. His planet, Pyrrus, needs three billion credits at once. This can only be obtained by gambling. Jason is to keep all winnings above this figure for himself.
It is impossible for Jason to say no. He wins the money by using his psi power, the ability to control the jail of dice with his mind. Kerk helps him to fight free of the gambling casino: they escape together. Only then does Jason discover that the money is to be used to purchase war materials. His anger fades when Kerk explains that the battle is against a planet—not against sentient creatures.
Pyrrus is a planet where mankind doesn’t belong—yet it has been settled for three hundred years. The gravity is twice that of Earth. The climate varies from tropic to arctic daily, and the native beasts are fierce beyond imagining. The average life expectancy of the Pyrran settlers is sixteen years.
Instead of being frightened, Jason finds himself inversely attracted to this deadly world. He forces reluctant permission from Kerk to let him return on the Pyrran ship. They fight their way off the planet and join the cargo ship, Pyrrus bound.
The pilot of the ship is a young and lovely girl, Meta. Jason likes her and is with her constantly during the trip. But after the ship lands he has no time for her or anything else. Staying alive is a full-time job.
Pyrrus is far worse than he imagined. The gravity is a constant, tiring burden and nightmares destroy his sleep. He cannot leave the sealed buildings of the survival school until he has completed weary month of training.
When he gains the proficiency in survival to leave the school, he makes some startling observations. The Pyrrans are slowly losing their battle for survival. In a few more centuries they will all he dead at the present rate of population loss. Kerk almost kills him when he discusses this taboo topic, but is halted by astonishment when Jason tells him there is a way to end the war.
All of the Pyrran life forms have an unnatural haired of mankin
d. And are constantly altering to become more deadly. The factors indicate that there is some force controlling this, planet-wide attack. Jason obtains Kerk’s permission to look for this hidden factor.
Jason searches for any historical records that might help him, but finds none. There are only technical works in the library, all other records and books have been destroyed by vermin. Jason kicks at the litter in anger and uncovers a metal box, made to hold a spaceships log.
The box contains the log of the ship that brought the first settlers to Pyrrus. In the log is proof that the human population has declined. Plus the almost unbelievable fact that in the beginning all Pyrran life was friendly to humans. With renewed hope, Jason searches for the factor that caused this change.
Before he can do anything the Pyrran life forms ‘launch a fierce attack on the human city, and Jason tries to help. He is only in the way and a Pyrran is killed saving his life. The man was Kerk’s son, and in his anger Kerk orders Jason to leave on the next ship.
Jason will not admit defeat. He continues his search and discovers a well-kept Pyrran secret. There are human beings living outside of the city, beyond the protective-wall. The city people call them ‘‘grubbers,” traitors to the human race, and shoot them on sight. They apparently have learned how to live on this deadly planet and Jason is sure they have the answers to his questions. He succeeds in escaping the city, but is attacked and captured by the grubbers.
He is taken to Rhes, one of then leaders, who is desperately ill. Jason cures him with his medik.it. Ho longer a prisoner, he looks for the secret of Pyrrus. These jungle people are outwardly barbarians, but hold fast to a culture that is anything but barbaric. It is only by accident that he discovers that many of them are telepathic, that- they control their animals in this manner.
The parts of the puzzle are slipping into place. It is soon obvious that all Pyrran life forms are telepathic. The city is washed in waves of hatred, a psionic message of destruction that keeps the native Pyrran life in constant attack.
After promising Rhes that he will do everything he can to help the jungle dwellers, he gets back into the city. How they have to listen to him. Jason describes the telepathic- controlled war that is being waged against them. There is some power that is beaming a message of hate against the city, keeping it under constant attack. Jason wants to find the source of this message, contact whoever or whatever is keeping the war going, and come to terms . . . End the battle once and for all.
PART 3
XX.
FROM the beginning now,” Kerk said. “And leave out nothing.”
“There is very little more that I can add to the physical facts. I saw the animals, understood the message. I even experimented with some of them and they reacted to my mental commands. What I must do now is track down the source of the orders that keep this war going.
“I’ll tell you something that I have never told anyone else. I’m not only lucky at gambling. I have enough psi ability to alter probability in my favor. It’s an erratic ability that I have tried to improve for obvious reasons. During the past ten years I managed to study at all of the centers that do psi research. Compared to other fields of knowledge it is amazing how little they know. Basic psi talents can be improved by practice, and some machines have been devised that act as psionic amplifiers. One of these, used correctly, is a very good directional indicator.”
“You want to build this machine?” Kerk asked.
“Exactly. Build it and take it outside the city in the ship. Any signal strong enough to keep this centuries-old battle going should be strong enough to track down. I’ll follow it, contact the creatures who are sending it, and try to find out why they are doing it. I assume you’ll go along with any reasonable plan that will end this war?”
“Anything reasonable,” Kerk said coldly. “How long will it take you to build this machine?”
“Just a few days if you have all the parts here,” Jason told him.
“Then do it. I’m canceling the flight that’s leaving now and I’ll keep the ship here, ready to go. When the machine is built I want you to track the signal and report back to me.”
“Agreed,” Jason said, standing up. “As soon as I have this hole in my back looked at I’ll draw up a list of things needed.”
A grim, unsmiling man named Skop was assigned to Jason as a combination guide and guard. He took his job very seriously, and it didn’t take Jason long to realize that he was a prisoner-at-large. Kerk had accepted his story, but that was no guarantee that he believed it. At a single word from him, the guard could turn executioner.
The chill thought hit Jason that undoubtedly this was what would happen. Whether Kerk accepted the story or not—he couldn’t afford to take a chance. As long as there was the slightest possibility Jason had contacted the grubbers, he could not be allowed to leave the planet alive. The woods people were being simple if they thought a plan this obvious might succeed. Or had they just gambled on the very long chance it might work? They certainly had nothing to lose by it.
Only half of Jason’s mind was occupied with the work as he drew up a list of materials he would need for the psionic direction finder. His thoughts plodded in tight circles, searching for a way out that didn’t exist. He was too deeply involved now to just leave. Kerk would see to that. Unless he could find a way to end the war and settle the grubber question he was marooned on Pyrrus for life. A very short life.
When the list was ready he called Supply. With a few substitutions, everything he might possibly need was in stock, and would be sent over. Skop sank into an apparent doze in his chair and Jason, his head propped against the pull of gravity by one arm, began a working sketch of his machine.
Jason looked up suddenly, aware of the silence. He could hear machinery in the building and voices in the hall outside. What kind of silence then—?
Mental silence. He had been so preoccupied since his return to the city that he hadn’t noticed the complete lack of any kind of psi sensation. The constant wash of animal reactions was missing, as was the vague tactile awareness of his PK. With sudden realization he remembered that it was always this way inside the city.
He tried to listen with his mind—and stopped almost before he began. There was a constant press of thought about him that he was made aware of when he reached out. It was like being in a vessel far beneath the ocean, with your hand on the door that held back the frightening pressure. Touching the door, without opening it, you could feel the stresses, the power pushing in and waiting to crush you. It was this way with the psi pressure on the city. The unvoiced hate-filled screams of Pyrrus would instantly destroy any mind that received them. Some function of his brain acted as a psi-circuit breaker, shutting off awareness before his mind could be blasted. There was just enough leak-through to keep him aware of the pressure—and supply the raw materials for his constant nightmares.
There was only one fringe benefit. The lack of thought pressure made it easier for him to concentrate. In spite of his fatigue the diagram developed swiftly.
Meta arrived late that afternoon, bringing the parts he had ordered. She slid the long box onto the workbench, started to speak, but changed her mind and said nothing. Jason looked up at her and smiled.
“Confused?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” she said, “I’m not confused. Just annoyed. The regular trip has been canceled and our supply schedule will be thrown off for months to come. And instead of piloting or perimeter assignment all I can do is stand around and wait for you. Then take some silly flight following your directions. Do you wonder that I’m annoyed?”
Jason carefully set the parts out on the chassis before he spoke. “As I said, you’re confused. I can point out how you’re confused—which will make you even more confused. A temptation that I frankly find hard to resist.”
She looked across the bench at him, frowning. One finger unconsciously curling and uncurling a short lock of hair. Jason liked her this way. As a Pyrran operating
at full blast she had as much personality as a gear in a machine. Once out of that pattern she reminded him more of the girl he had known on that first flight to Pyrrus. He wondered if it was possible to really get across to her what he meant.
“I’m not being insulting when I say ‘confused,’ Meta. With your background you couldn’t be any other way. You have an insular personality. Admittedly, Pyrrus is an unusual island with a lot of high-power problems that you are an expert at solving. That doesn’t make it any less of an island. When you face a cosmopolitan problem you are confused. Or even worse, when your island problems are put into a bigger context. That’s like playing your own game, only having the rules change constantly as you go along.”
“You’re talking nonsense,” she snapped at him. “Pyrrus isn’t an island and battling for survival is definitely not a game.”
“I’m sorry,” he smiled. “I was using a figure of speech, and a badly chosen one at that. Let’s put the problem on more concrete terms. Take an example. Suppose I were to tell you that over there, hanging from the doorframe, was a stingwing—”
Meta’s gun was pointing at the door before he finished the last word. There was a crash as the guard’s chair went over. He had jumped from a half-doze to full alertness in an instant, his gun also searching the doorframe.
“That was just an example,” Jason said. “There’s really nothing there.” The guard’s gun vanished and he scowled a look of contempt at Jason, as he righted the chair and dropped into it.
“You both have proved yourself capable of handling a Pyrran problem.” Jason continued. “But what if I said that there is a thing hanging from the doorframe that looks like a stingwing, but is really a kind of large insect that spins a fine silk that can be used to weave clothes?”
The guard glared from under his thick eyebrows at the empty doorframe, his gun whined part way out, then snapped back into the holster. He growled something inaudible at Jason, then stamped into the outer room, slamming the door behind him. Meta frowned in concentration and looked puzzled.
Deathworld: The Complete Saga Page 12