by Unknown
“No, you’ll destroy the sky hounds, Zandro. You’ll destroy them, destroy them.”
“You will die,” Zandro thundered.
“Destroy them, destroy them. Destroy the sky hounds, Zandro.”
“You will die, all of you!”
“Destroy them! Destroy them!”
“Destroy them!” the Tommies clamored.
“Destroy them!” As Danny hurled the last command, he clamped his lips so
tightly that his jaw muscles bulged out in hard, rigid lines. He locked eyes with Arla. Suddenly, too, the Tommies were silent.
Samul’s hands sweated. Unable to tear his eyes from the boy and girl, he watched in stark fascination; the battle had entered into a purely telepathic stage. Arla was standing straight and stiff; her thin face, turned toward Danny, held a faraway expression.
“What’s happening?” Carney rasped nervously.
“Don’t talk, don’t move,” Samul commanded. In the absolute silence that followed, he sensed a titanic battle taking place. On one side were Arla and Danny, their mental powers amplified through the five Tommies; on the other side was Zandro.
What could he do? Nothing, nothing at all, he thought. He could do nothing but stand there under the emerald sun and wait. Suddenly it wasn’t his war any longer; it was their war! He moved his eyes from one to the other, marveling at what he sensed. In some strange way that he could never know, through some bizarre power that he could understand only at the verbal level, their minds were locked in a mighty struggle with that of the unseen alien.
He glanced at Yoshi. Her hands clasped rigidly together, her lips compressed, she stared at the boy and girl in fearful fascination. He moved his head slightly, glancing at the metal birds. Hovering in the same position as before, their wings motionless, their beady red eyes glared down at him. Did they know what was transpiring? Or, like the Tommies, were they simple mechanical artifacts, capable only of tracking assigned targets and reporting what they saw? He decided it was the latter. Certainly the beady red eyes portrayed no intelligence.
He shifted his gaze to the sky hounds. They, too, were unmoving. He studied the squat, black, oval-shaped bodies, the snoutlike tube that jutted out from each, the long, sensitive-appearing antennae that quivered against the emerald sky. “They burn worlds!” Danny’s words ran hauntingly through his mind.
Destroy them, destroy them! he thought fiercely. He clenched his hands futilely. All the minds like his in the Universe, even when lumped together, couldn’t affect the present struggle one iota. In this battle he and Yoshi and Carney were the children; the knowledge made him humble.
His hands sweating, he looked at the boy and girl. Their posture unchanged, their eyes still locked, their faces held a rapt yet unseeing expression. He wondered what tremendous grip of concentration sustained them. It was beyond him, beyond Yoshi — beyond all but a select few, he thought. Most of humanity regarded telepaths as freaks, objects of scorn, yet he had long realized that was but a mask to cloak the secret envy of such a power.
Now, for the first time, he sensed the wonder of such a gift. It wasn’t just the ability to penetrate another’s mind and discern what was in it; it went far beyond that, at least in the case of Arla and Danny. A mind that could fog film? Could she, perhaps, walk through a metal fence? Despite her denial, he believed it entirely possible. She would conceal such a gift, of course, for otherwise the scorn would be tenfold.
And Danny? He eyed the youth wonderingly. Zandro had immobilized their bodies with ease, even Arla’s; but he hadn’t been able to prevent Danny’s flight. How powerful was Danny? What great, awesome, unbelievable talents did he possess? He had never really been put to test till now.
And Zandro? What power had he? The title “mind master” denoted great eminence among his kind — a race that must number in the millions of billions and had conquered the planets of 1,000,000 suns! To rise above that tide was an appalling feat. He shivered involuntarily.
“I have the uncomfortable feeling that the human race is about to be tested for its right to survive” — Sol Houston’s words came back to him. And, “In time it comes to every life form.”
Samul licked his lips dryly. That time was now. He — and, yes, Sol Houston — had envisioned that trial as a titanic conflict in which vast space armadas had been pitted, one against the other. They had seen it as one in which entire sun systems would be cindered until, finally, one adversary or the other was forced to retreat — a retreat that would spell eventual doom.
But it wasn’t at all like that. Instead, the conflict was being fought here and now, on a lonely meadow under an emerald sun. But the stakes were the same. The fate of empires depended on the outcome of the silent struggle now occurring. One great civilization would expand afresh; the other would wither and die. The knowledge was frightening.
How long had he stood there? He didn’t know, but the emerald sun certainly had climbed higher in the sky. He stole a glance at Yoshi. Her stance rigid, her face cast in an anxious mold, her eyes never wavered from the boy and girl.
He moved his gaze to Carney. The crewman forced a crooked grin. For the first time Samul noticed he was freckled; the pigmented splotches were etched sharply against his pale skin. Samul cautiously returned his gaze to Danny and Arla, fearful of any movement that might cause a fatal distraction.
His hands clenched, he waited. For what? What would signal the end? Should Zandro win, they would all die; of that he was certain. There would be no mercy, no reprieve. Worse, the whole of mankind would die. Planet by planet, sun by sun, human civilization would vanish from the Universe. Slowly, inexorably, the aliens would sweep through the stars. Or perhaps it would end in lightning thrusts. He shivered again.
Movement in the periphery of his eye caused him to jerk his head involuntarily. Puzzled, he stared at the forest, at the hovering sky hounds, wondering what had alerted him. He detected the movement again; it took an instant to realize that one of the sky hounds was shifting position.
He watched it, scarcely daring to breathe. Was it going to attack? The sky hound bobbed slightly, wavering in the sky; suddenly a silver streak shot out from its ugly snout, and the forest off to one side burst into flame. A loud whooshing rolled over the meadow.
“We’d better get out of here,” Carney rasped. Swaying as if preparing for flight, he eyed the sky apprehensively.
“Don’t move,” Samul commanded tautly. He cast a swift glance at Danny. The youth stood exactly as before, his jaw muscles bunched in great coils, the sweat glistening on his brow, his eyes locked to the girl’s. Samul had the swift impression of a carving in stone. Arla’s face was an undecipherable mask.
“Watch out,” Carney yelled stridently. Samul whirled around in time to glimpse a silver coil shooting down toward the meadow. A vast ball of fire whizzed past a few paces to one side, followed by the crackle of thunder. As the grasses bent under a wall of heat, an acrid odor stung his nostrils.
14
“YOSHI!” Samul yelled frantically, leaping to her side. Clasping her hand, he pulled her farther from the blazing grass. He heard Carney scream and looked around; a whitish puff of smoke had blossomed in the emerald sky.
“One of them’s gone,” the crewman shouted wildly. Samul stared incredulously; but two sky hounds were left. The smoke in the sky — what was happening?
“Gone…” Yoshi whispered tremulously.
“Something’s happening,” Samul barked. The words were inane, and he knew it.
“Look!” Carney screamed again. Samul gazed at the sky hounds as if
hypnotized. One of them was swinging slowly around. His scalp prickled as the ugly black snout swung toward them. Pulling Yoshi protectively into his arms, he felt a dreadful hopelessness.
“Samul,” she whispered, clinging to him. His heart skipped a beat as the black snout swung past; an instant later another silver beam shot out, and a second whitish puff blossomed in the sky; a second sky hound vanished.
He
gazed in awe at the whitish cloud, attempting to discern meaning from the chaos of his thoughts. The remaining sky hound nosed downward, then suddenly accelerated in a steep dive.
“It’s going in,” Carney shouted excitedly. Spellbound, Samul saw it crash in the meadow near the edge of the forest. A tongue of orange flame shot high into the sky, followed by a plume of black smoke. The thunder, when it came, was deafening.
Something whizzed past Samul’s head, striking the ground alongside of him. He looked down fearfully; the beady red eyes of a metal bird glared up at him.
“The birds! They fell, they fell,” Carney yelled. He jabbed a finger excitedly toward the grass.
“What’s happening?” Yoshi asked tremulously.
“I don’t know.” Samul clutched her, afraid to hope. Zandro’s sky hounds had been destroyed, his birds had fallen. And then he did know. “We’ve won, we’ve won,” he cried.
“Samul…” She gazed up wonderingly at him.
“You mean the octopus lost?” Carney asked disbelievingly. Samul started to answer, then his eyes fell on Danny, and he stiffened, clenching Yoshi close. A wave of apprehension swept him. Danny was shaking his head slowly, as if struggling. So was Arla; her face had turned to a mask of pure terror.
Samul leaped to her side and caught her arm, shaking it roughly. “What’s happening?” he demanded.
“Zandro!” She screamed the name.
“Tell me, tell me,” he begged.
“His mind! His mind!”
Danny suddenly came to life. “Zandro’s mind,” he shouted.
“What is it?” Samul asked desperately. “What’s happening?”
“I think he’s going mad.” Danny gazed fearfully at him. “I can’t contain it.”
“Going mad?”
“His mind’s fragmenting!”
“What does that mean?” Samul struggled to contain his fear.
“I don’t know.” Danny stepped swiftly to Arla’s side. “Quiet, quiet,” he consoled.
“Oh, Danny.” She lifted her face. “It hurt.”
“An awful pain,” he agreed.
“Pain?” Samul asked.
“His mind seemed to shatter, then the pain came,” Danny explained. “Perhaps the knowledge that he had lost…”
“Is it dead?”
“No, no.”
“But the sky hounds…”
“We made him destroy them.”
“Then the metal birds fell,” Samul said wonderingly.
“It was the knowledge that his mind wasn’t supreme,” Yoshi cut in.
“That drove him mad?”
“That must be it.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Carney interrupted.
“Danny!” Arla’s piercing scream brought Samul’s head around sharply. He glimpsed a tree hurtling through the sky an instant before it crashed back
into the swamp. A huge black blob seemed to shoot upward, towering high above the bulrushes. A huge tentacle shot out; grasping another tree, it yanked it up by the roots and hurled it far to one side.
“Zandro!” Danny yelled tremulously.
The black blob lurched forward with appalling suddenness, ripping the foliage from its path until it burst free at the edge of the meadow. Samul saw a gigantic, flame-red eye fasten on him.
He stared at the creature disbelievingly. Fully four times his own height, its powerful tentacles, gleaming in the emerald sun, extended out a good fifty feet from its body.
“Samul!” Yoshi’s scream of pure horror broke the spell.
“The lifeboat,” Carney shouted.
“Not the lifeboat,” Samul yelled. “We can’t make it. Spread out! Spread out!” He grasped Yoshi’s hand, seeking an avenue of escape.
“We have to stop him,” Danny croaked.
“Run,” Samul urged. “Get away first.” He glanced back fearfully at the gigantic black blob, his mind registering the fact that it was an octopus, at least in general detail. But the eye, the hideous slash of a mouth! The gleaming, writhing tentacles! Suddenly it moved.
Whirling away, Samul raced a dozen paces, dragging Yoshi with him. Danny’s shout brought him to a halt, and he looked back. Danny had caught Arla up and was racing with her in the opposite direction. Carney, crouched behind the lifeboat, was looking wildly around for an escape.
The hideous body, roiling and pulsating, towered higher as the writhing tentacles bunched under it. The forward tentacles snaked out, reaching toward the lifeboat; the entire body moved with frightening speed.
“Carney, get out of there,” Samul bellowed. The crewman paid him no attention. He shouted again, then released Yoshi’s hand and darted toward the ship. “Run! Run! Get out of there,” he cried.
Carney whirled, looking at him, his face twisted with fright. As if suddenly understanding his peril, he turned and dashed toward the forest. Samul cast a quick look at the hideous form on the meadow. The baleful red eye rolled wildly, as if seeking its prey.
Crying a warning, Samul darted toward Yoshi. Before he could reach her, a huge tentacle snaked out, plucking her from the grass. Screaming, she was lofted into the sky. Her body, clasped at the tip of the tentacle, appeared like a small mote in space.
“Put her down,” he shouted in an agony of despair. Dashing recklessly forward, he knew only that he had to save her. The thought hammered at his brain. A tentacle shot through the sky, curving toward him; he felt himself whirling through the air. For one wild instant he thought he had been hurled, then realized that the tip of the tentacle still circled his waist.
The meadow raced past beneath him, then the forest, the sky, the swamp. He was shooting upward and forward and down. He caught a glimpse of Yoshi as she was whirled past, then the motion grew steadier as the huge body glided in the wake of the fleeing crewman.
“Yoshi!” Samul shouted, hoping to give her courage. He struggled to turn, trying to see her, and found he couldn’t. For one fleeting second he glimpsed Danny and Arla. Standing in the meadow, facing him, they appeared like two small statues in the distance. The tentacle moved again, and they were lost to sight. Up, down, sideways — he was thrust through space with terrifying speed. He whipped past what he first thought to be a pool of flame, then realized it was a gigantic eye. Glaring, baleful, maddened, it jerked convulsively.
He saw Carney. The crewman, his body bent low, was fleeing toward the shelter of the trees. Samul struggled to release the tight band circling his waist, at the same time frantically striving to see Yoshi. Was this the end?
The thought drove him to greater efforts.
All at once he felt his body plummeting downward. The tentacle gripping him heaved and shook. At the same time he became aware that the octopus had ceased its forward motion. Lying astride the meadow, the great body shook convulsively. His feet touched the ground briefly before he was hoisted again; the forest whirled past and he was slammed back against the meadow.
Struggling to regain his breath, he realized that the tight band encircling his waist had loosened. Fumbling, he grasped the tip of the tentacle and pulled it loose. He leaped to his feet, looking frantically for Yoshi. She was lying in the tall grass, the tip of a tentacle still holding her.
“Yoshi!” He shouted, racing toward her. Reaching her side, he pulled her free, slung her over his shoulder, and dashed toward the forest. At the edge of the meadow he glanced back; it was then he realized Zandro was dead.
He set Yoshi down gently and stroked her face, murmuring her name. Her eyelids fluttered. “Yoshi,” he said urgently. She stirred, and a low moan escaped her lips, then her eyes opened.
“Samul!”
“Everything’s all right,” he breathed. He held her hand reassuringly.
“That…thing?”
“Dead,” he answered quietly.
“Samul, you were wonderful!”
“Well…” He flushed happily. Sensing movement behind him, he turned. Carney, coming from the forest, wore an abashed look.
“Is she al
l right?” the crewman asked anxiously.
“I’m all right.” Yoshi struggled to a sitting position.
Carney grinned sheepishly. “That wasn’t exactly the kind of octopus I was thinking about. I guess I was pretty scared.”
“We all were,” Samul answered quietly.
“How…” Yoshi turned, staring toward the meadow. Zandro’s body appeared like a vast, gelatinous lump that had been unceremoniously dumped on the grass. The huge eye was unmoving, vacuous. She shuddered.
“I don’t know,” Samul replied. He jerked his head up in memory, then leaped to his feet, relieved to see Danny and Arla racing toward them.
“She did it, she did it,” Danny yelled, as they drew closer. He waved and pumped his legs faster, drawing Arla along with him. Of course, Samul thought, that was it; they had forced Zandro to destroy himself. He felt a fierce pride in them.
Danny broke his stride. “She did it,” he called again. They halted, panting.
“No, we did it,” Arla said. She looked at the hideous mass on the meadow and shuddered.
“Let’s get out of here,” Carney urged. “That thing might have friends.”
When they reached the lifeboat, Danny turned suddenly, gazing into the distance. “I’m going to come back some day,” he said.
“It is beautiful,” Yoshi murmured.
Danny looked at her. “My father discovered this world. He named it for my mother.”
“You will want to come back,” Samul said huskily. “There’s such a sense of freedom, such a glorious sun,” Yoshi whispered. “The children at the orphanage would love it.”
“No.” Samul patted her hand. “They’ll want to grow up among their kind.”
“Their kind?” She turned, looking gravely at him.
“What do you mean?” he asked gently.
“The children are telepaths,” she explained quietly. “The orphanage is supported by telepaths.”
“Telepaths?” Samul was startled. “Are you…”
“Not a bit,” she laughed. Her face sobered. “But my parents were telepathic. I should have been, but I’m not. But the telepaths trust me.”