Alton's Unguessable

by Jeff Sutton

  Unmoving, he waited. If the beam had killed one of the gulls, what might happen? Would the alien sense its death, send out its winged hosts to discover the cause? It was a question he'd juggled earlier, a chance he had to take. Now, having taken it, he waited apprehensively. When nothing happened, his tension began to subside.

  He shot a mental signal to Lara and started forward along the blackened path blazed by the beam. Despite the coolness of the false dawn, the hand gripping the laser was wet with sweat. He felt it, too, on his brow, his body; sweat and nerves keyed to a high pitch.

  At the end of the blackened path he repeated the operation. Again he waited, again sensed no alarm, again stole forward. His nerves taut and frayed, his muscles aching from sheer fatigue, he wondered what hell the girl behind him must be suffering, what hell lay ahead? What of the bird in the ship? The question screamed in his mind.

  The third time he fired the laser, the path abruptly ended a short distance from the muzzle. The force field! He sensed Lara's tension rise, subside. A glance at the sky revealed but a short time remaining before the blue-white sun leaped clear of the horizon.

  He slithered into the tall grass alongside the force field. When Lara had settled alongside him, he reached up and pulled the long blades together to shield them from view. He'd scarcely finished when the low-muted thunder commenced again; it throbbed in his consciousness like the rapid beat of a faraway drum. He wondered why Lara couldn't sense it. Could there be far greater differences in the telepathic trait than he knew?

  Through the thick growth, he glimpsed the first birds rising—half a dozen at first, then more and more. Wheeling, they commenced to circle the ship at a safe distance from the force field.

  "There are so many." Lara's silent murmur held awe. Scores of birds in the sky, hundreds more in the grasslands, yet not a single one had ever been seen to fly into the force field! Did the alien control them all? If so, could he exert the mind power through each and every one of them? A being that could destroy a forest, toss its very atoms to the winds! He shivered.

  "How can we fight that?" Lara's question held a quiet despair.

  "Depends on how many there are."

  "Aliens?"

  "There might be but one, there might be a million; we don't know. If we're lucky, there's only one."

  "And then?"

  "We have to kill it." The answer sounded so simple, yet what else could he tell her? The alien could command birds, destroy forests, probably pulverize the planet at will. And, oh, yes, he was invisible. But he had to kill it. He felt the mad desire to laugh.

  "We don't have to win, Roger." Startled, he glanced at her. He'd have to remember her telepathy. Having his innermost thoughts exposed was a new experience, at least on the Alpha Tauri.

  "We don't?"

  "We only have to keep it from winning."

  "If we both lose, the Empire wins. I've thought of that."

  "It's the second best way," she agreed.

  He looked at the sky, at moon K-1.2 speeding upward in the van of the sun, at the wheeling gulls plastered against the blue. If the alien—why did he always think of it as singular?—had destroyed the temple builders, then it had been on Krado 1 for a long, long time. If that assumption were correct, why were there no physical manifestations of its existence—no buildings, artifacts, nothing? The only manifestations were of its mind. A being that lived in birds. An it? A he? Keim settled for it.

  But if it had destroyed the temple builders, it must have arrived on this planet long after them, else it would never have permitted them to progress to the temple-building stage. That seemed logical. Yet, if this specific alien had destroyed the temple builders, its life span must measure in the tens of thousands of years. That didn't seem logical; not by human standards. There could be one alien, or many; an extremely old alien or aliens who were born and died in a somewhat normal life cycle. He was prepared to believe almost anything.

  From where could such a being have come? And how? One thing was certain, if there were others like it in the galaxy, man was doomed. Hidden in its own small niche of stars, the Third Empire couldn't escape their attention forever. Suppose that somewhere planets teemed with such beings? Good God! But he couldn't afford to think of that now. He had to establish priorities.

  The bird in the ship was the overriding problem. Priority One. He had to contact Yozell, warn him, and kill the bird, accomplishing all that, if possible, without getting the Alpha Tauri blown off the face of Krado 1. Whatever happened, they couldn't allow such a being to reach the Empire.

  Shortly after dawn, one of the big hatches slid open. Headed by Carter, an Assistant Chief of Maintenance, ten or twelve crewmen spilled out onto the plain. The sight surprised Keim. Usually the crewmen didn't commence work until a later hour. Trying to probe their thoughts through the background of thunder in his mind, he got only the impression of fear and confusion.

  He focused his attention on Carter. It was like trying to pick the notes of a single instrument from a vast symphony of orchestral sound. Thunder, cracklings, human thought—all were woven together in a single mosaic. He had to…

  There, he had it! For a few brief seconds Carter's thoughts emerged in bas-relief from the tumultuous background noise. They had to do with Woon. Woon had decided to abandon the planet immediately. Kimbrough had concurred, but Carter didn't know the reason. Sensing some dire danger, he was worried, fearful. So were his men. Their minds reeked with terror. There was no panic yet, but it was close.

  Keim touched Lara's mind. "Something has happened. Woon has ordered an immediate lift-off. Kimbrough has concurred."

  "The alien?" She rolled her head toward him, her eyes wide.

  "Probably. Can you read anything at all?"

  "Just impressions of worry, fear. Their thoughts all run together. I can't separate them."

  "It'll come." He returned his attention to the scene as more workers spilled from the ship to help dismantle and store the equipment set up for use by members of the science staff. He caught movements in the periphery of his eye and twisted his head upward; several gulls were flying over the ship. The force field had been lifted! He returned his gaze to the crewmen. In a short while, a group under Carter moved toward Robin Martel's meteorological equipment, which had been set up only a short distance from where they lay.

  "Get ready," he murmured, subconsciously reverting to speech. As the workers drew near, Keim pulled Lara to her feet and hurried toward them.

  "My God," exclaimed Carter, "where did you come from?" He gazed incredulously at them.

  "Had to walk back," explained Keim matter-of-factly.

  "We thought you were dead. We tried for hours to raise you on the Q band—right up to the moment we put up the force field." Carter eyed their wet, muddy clothing. "What happened?"

  "Accident." He brushed the question aside. "Why so early to work?"

  "Getting ready for lift-off, and a damned good thing." Carter scowled. "This planet is jinxed."

  "In what way?"

  "Every way. No one's saying but the word gets around. They tell me that temple blew up right before your eyes."

  "Collapsed," corrected Keim. "Old age."

  "That so?" Carter eyed him skeptically. "How come Woon's so anxious to leave?"

  "I couldn't say. When is lift-off?"

  "As soon as we can make it. Sleep in a swamp?"

  "Just about." Keim touched Lara's elbow and started her toward the ship. The thirty or forty paces to the hatch were a nightmare. Momentarily he expected a bolt to reach down from the sky and sizzle them. Certainly the gulls had seen them. Why didn't the alien strike?

  "We're going to make it!" Lara's words came as a breathless whisper in his mind.

  "We'll make it" he nodded subconsciously, stifling the impulse to quicken his step. What had frightened Woon? The alien? Everything came back to the alien. Yozell's bird! He felt a cold sweat. He paused at the hatch opening to cast a last glance at the sky—at the white, circling gulls.
Lara shivered. "The aliens on board, isn't it?"

  "I believe so." Somehow, now that he'd admitted it, he realized that he felt neither fear nor shock—just the cold fact of what faced them. In whatever form it was, and he was certain it was in a form other than the gull, it had taken up quarters somewhere in this vast vessel called the Alpha Tauri. An army of men could search a week with no assurance of finding it. If it were visible!

  In the early hour, the corridors leading through the staff quarters were still deserted, for which he was thankful. Lara opened her door and turned, her face lifted toward him. "There isn't much time, is there?"

  "I don't believe so," he answered gravely. She retreated a few steps and he followed, closing the door behind him. As he stepped toward her, she came to meet him. He kissed her fiercely, hungrily, felt her body molded against him, sensed the desire that competed with the shortness of time. My God, why couldn't this be another planet, another day, with an infinity yet to live? The question clubbed at his mind.

  Finally she pushed herself free of him, brushed back her hair. Her eyes held a new wistfulness. "The alien," she whispered. "I know."

  She looked down at her muddy clothes. "I'll shower, change."

  "Keep your door locked," he cautioned. "And you?"

  "I need time to think."

  "Think," she echoed. She kissed him quickly and turned toward the inner room. Retreating to the corridor, he wondered how much time they did have. A lifetime wasn't enough. Not now.

  He returned to his own quarters, his mind in turmoil. Reluctantly he forced his thoughts to the alien. He had a thousand questions, but no answers. Why had Woon suddenly ordered lift-off? That question plagued him most. Was it because of something the captain feared, or because of something he knew? There was a vast difference between the two. Woon wasn't one to frighten easily, not when backed by weapons that could destroy a planet. Whatever the reason for the sudden decision, Kimbrough had concurred. Where did that leave him?

  He tried probing the ship around him. Fragmentary thoughts flowed in, heavily laden with terror. His attempts to isolate Woon's mind returned nothing. Neither could he locate Myron Kimbrough. The failure brought his anxiety to a sharp edge.

  The bird, he thought; somehow it was all tied in with the bird. He forced himself to move slowly while he depilated his face, showered, put on fresh clothes. Time, he realized, was a luxury; he wanted to enjoy it while he could. As an afterthought, he dropped the laser in a side pocket. Its feel against his hip was reassuring. Next he considered the possible courses of action. There had to be a beginning.

  He'd begin with Alton Yozell.

  "Roger, thank God you're back. Is Lara all right?" The flat, metallic quality of Alton Yozell's voice over the interphone filled Keim with a quick perturbation. An inner sense told him that something was radically wrong.

  "Safe but tired," he answered. "I imagine she's resting." As he spoke, he tried to probe the biologist's mind, more disturbed than ever when he failed to get a response. Occasionally it was that way, but seldom totally. Yet this time it was; Alton Yozell's mind returned only a curious blankness.

  "What happened?" asked the biologist.

  "An accident. We lost the skimmers."

  "Sorry to hear that, Roger."

  "I have to talk with you right away, Alton. May I stop by?"

  A brief silence ensued before Yozell replied, "I was just going to the wardroom for coffee. I'll stop by your place on my way." The interphone clicked off. Keim felt a stillness inside him. The strangeness he'd sensed went far beyond the blankness of the biologist's mind, beyond the emotionless quality of his voice. He'd known Alton Yozell a long time. Gentle, mild of manner, he'd always exuded a genuine warmth. There had been no warmth this time, no life. It had been like listening to an automaton.

  The bird! Keim felt a shiver run down his spine. Quite suddenly he knew that Alton Yozell no longer was Yozell; he was someone or something quite different. A horrible suspicion gripped him. And Captain Woon? Myron Kim-brough? Had the alien taken possession of their minds? The possibility was a shocker.

  "Roger?" Lara's voice whispered in his mind.

  "Alton Yozell's coming to see me. Are you reading me? Stay where you are."

  "I understand." The answer held reluctance.

  "Concentrate, keep in contact."

  "Please be careful."

  "I think Alton…" He broke communication as he sensed movement in the corridor. Movement? It was the sense of someone coming, yet with no identity. A chime sounded at the door. "Come in!" The instant he called he remembered it was locked. When he opened it, his first impression was of the rigid set of the biologist's face. It appeared oddly insensitive, a mask.

  "I'm greatly relieved that you're safe," said Yozell. He entered and turned with a curiously mechanical grace. Usually he slouched; now he stood straight, his arms held stiffly at his sides. A swift probe of his mind returned only the same blankness. Feeling a cold chill, Keim dropped a hand to the laser in his pocket.

  "Safe?" he asked.

  "You've returned, Roger." Yozell's smile was a ghastly parody of its former warmth.

  "Didn't you expect me to?"

  "Not when you failed to answer on the Q band."

  "The instruments were wrecked along with the skimmers."

  "How did you escape?"

  "From what?" demanded Keim. His nerves leaped and quivered.

  "From… whatever happened."

  "For God's sake, Alton, what's wrong with you?"

  "Wrong?" Yozell's expression remained unchanged.

  "Your mind—it's blank!"

  "No, it's possessed of a greater power than I ever knew."

  "The bird?" he grated.

  "Not the bird." Yozell shook his head stiffly.

  "The alien?"

  "Ah____"

  "Tell me, Alton."

  "We are children in the jungle of life, Roger."

  "Children, good God!" Keim stared at him.

  "But we are." The awful smile came again. "We've always fancied ourselves as the supreme form of life, but we're not. Does that shock you? This being is infinitely greater. Time, space, life—all the imponderables of mankind—are quite elementary in the scale of its wisdom."

  "You're bowing to this… thing?"

  "Not bowing, Roger, just doing what I have to do."

  "Which is?"

  "This." Yozell jerked a laser from his pocket. Keim triggered his own weapon almost without thinking. The biologist staggered backward clutching at his chest, his eyes unseeing for a long moment before he collapsed. His body twitched once or twice, then was still.

  "Roger, what happened?" Lara's scream rang in Keim's mind. A moment later she burst through the doorway, her face white with fright. She gazed at the body on the floor. "Thank God," she exclaimed.

  "It wasn't Yozell," he said tiredly. "The alien?" She moistened her lips nervously. "He's in the ship."

  "He?"

  "He, she, it—I don't know what it is. But Yozell spoke of it as if it were a single being. We can only hope that's right. God knows how many others it's possessed."

  "Captain Woon?" she whispered.

  "I believe so. That's probably why he decided to return to the Empire."

  "With that creature aboard?"

  "I don't believe he has much choice." He gazed at the biologist's body. "I don't believe that Woon is Woon any longer, just as Yozell wasn't Yozell. Neither can I sense Kimbrough."

  "How does it do it?"

  "I don't know. But I know that it captures their minds, uses their bodies."

  "Telepathic hypnosis?"

  He shook his head. "It goes far beyond that. It can see through their eyes, direct the pk power through their minds. I believe your first conjecture was right—that it actually injects its mind into that of its victims, controls them absolutely, lives in them as a host, a mental parasite. It apparently acquires all their knowledge and skills, their memories, their language. It either acquires them or is
able to control them, use them, which amounts to the same thing. Not perfectly, of course. Yozell's speech was flat, mechanical. His choice of words was right, but he lacked the inflection. That was the first thing I noticed, that and his posture. He moved like a robot."

  "Couldn't you sense it in his mind?"

  "Yozell's mind was blank. Like Woon's and Kimbrough's," he added.

  "Then it wasn't Yozell you were talking to," she whispered. Awe flooded her face. "Not if it was using Yozell's mind."

  "It wasn't Yozell."

  "You were talking to the alien!" She shivered.

  "Face to face," he agreed. He smiled wanly. "It told me how great it was, how inconsequential we were."

  "That's frightening. What can we do?"

  "If nothing else, we can destroy the ship. That's the Empire's only chance."

  "Destroy the ship?" Subconsciously she stood straighter, the fright draining from her face. "Yes, if there is no other way," she said quietly. He felt a quick pride in her, then saw her flush. Remembering her telepathy, he smiled.

  He dragged the biologist's body into the adjoining sleeping quarters before stepping back to look down at it. Alton Yozell had been a good man, gentle, considerate of others. He had harmed no one; now he was dead. By my hand, Keim thought sadly. Whispering goodbye in a soft voice, he retrieved the dead man's laser and returned to the outer room.

  "Take it." He extended the weapon to Lara. "If I fail, or if the alien gets into my mind…"

  "I'll destroy the ship," she answered steadily.

  "Good girl! Just slice through the outer bulkheads, big squares that can't be blocked off. And through the automatic doors that seal off the compartments," he added.

  "What do we do now?"

  "Wait."

  "Wait?"

  "For Act Two."

  She cocked her head. "If it's a single being, and I say if, how could it be dangerous to the Empire?"

  "Because it couldn't procreate, is that what you mean? How do we know that it's not asexual? Perhaps it reproduces by fission; I don't know. But Yozell spoke of it as a single entity, and I feel that it is. The only thing I can't figure is why it hasn't killed us already. Lord knows it's had the chance."