by Henry Hasse
Tor's voice, bitter with hate, broke upon his tumult of thoughts. "Become a part of you—just as Jal Tagar did? A traitor to everything that we—"
"You have no choice," Frane replied in cold, unhuman tones. "Every man here is part and substance of the great Zemmd. Just as the sum and total of all that is in your brains will become a part of him." He turned his gaze upon Rikert. "Even this one, who sought to defy the Zemmd, will become a part."
"Yeah? We'll see about that!" Rikert laughed unpleasantly.
They were silent then, under the watchful guidance of Frane and his men. Once more they were taken below the level of the compound, then ushered into a plainly furnished room.
"You will not lack for comfort," Frane said, "but you must remain here until time for the transition. I promise it will be soon!" There was pride in his tone, as though conferring a great honor upon them. He employed a metal device in the arched doorway. A sheet of crackling color passed across it, effectively barring the entrance.
Rikert leaped forward in a last effort, but a searing heat from the barrier stopped him. Bitterly he turned back.
"Fine thing, Emmons! If you'd let me blast that hunk of brain-trust when I had the chance—"
"You'd be dead now, and the rest of us with you! Can't you ungroove that brain of yours, Rikert?"
Rikert surged forward, fists clenched, but Jeffers stepped between the men.
"I don't know, Emmons," Jeffers said slowly. "I think Rikert had the thing scared there for a minute. Didn't you notice the way it moved back from the electro—"
"It was a darn fool thing to try, and this kind of talk isn't helping us!" Curt turned abruptly, began examining the room.
Walls, floor and ceiling seemed to be of solid-hewed stone with no break of any kind. The arched doorway failed to reveal the source of the radiant barrier; it was electronic, Curt was sure.
Lorine was a pitiful figure, despair making an unreal mask of her face. All the fine courage that had carried her this far, seemed to fail her now.
Once more Tor hummed the high-pitched aria which Curt hadn't heard since they left Mercury. The tune seemed to sustain the little Martian in times of trouble. Jeffers and Rikert were aimless automatons pacing the room.
Curt sank down and let despair wash over him. Yet a thought, half-formed, struggled to emerge from the recesses of his mind; something he had noticed about that entity, Zemmd; an idea that danced away as he sought to remember.
He couldn't quite grasp it. It was maddening.
Such a weariness of body and mind came upon Curt that he fell into a fitful sleep. His last conscious thought was of the sentient entity, of which they were to become a part.
All would be over then.
Curt dreamed. A great arctic wind, alive as if with a snapping intelligence, seemed to roar about his huddled carcass. Far away a door whispered open and closed with a sigh. A stranger seemed to have entered the room, a great towering figure with silvery hair, who stood looking down at them and then paced away in the gloom like the going of a breeze.
Curt rolled over, mumbling in his sleep.
The wind crept back like a padding cat, whispering in his ears. It resolved itself into a voice, a human voice very real and urgent. Curt sat up abruptly. This was no dream, the towering stranger was still there.
Somehow he had passed through the electronic curtain across the doorway....
Curt leaped to his feet as he recognized George Landreth.
VII
The others came quickly awake. Lorine stared, then with a sob threw herself into her father's arms. Landreth comforted her, his face twisting strangely. He had aged greatly, Curt knew, he was still a dominant figure of a man.
"Why did you do it, child, why?" Landreth spoke with a great effort. "You should never have come here!"
Startled, Jeffers was staring at the electronic barrier. "Man, you came through that curtain! How is it done?"
Rikert said fiercely, "Are you one of these things, too?"
"I'm one of them, heaven help me, but soon I won't be! You must listen carefully now. I haven't much time!" Landreth paced the room with great uneven strides, face still twisting, his voice coming with an effort.
"They call themselves Energons. Their life-principle is ionized protoplasm, that's as near as I can describe it! They subsist on the energy-source fields that originate within all planetary bodies. Electric, magnetic, gravitic, call it what you will. They left their System, far beyond Pluto, because it's in a state of disintegration for lack of the energy-magnetic source—" Landreth's features had gone pale and tight, as if some ghastly struggle were occurring within him.
"I and three others boarded their ship. It drove toward the sun ... we couldn't stop it. We barely managed to bring it to a crash, here. In the crash some of the Energons were released, they took possession of our unconscious bodies ... and they evolved their plan ... they must be stopped!" With a great effort Landreth managed to hold his body erect.
Curt's mind raced. He saw the rest. Landreth and his three men were only the beginning. Through them, completely Energon-dominated, the net had spread! Other men had been captured out of space and brought here. The Energon life-forms had been taken secretly to other planets, to seize upon bodies, and bring them into Energon control! The plan had taken two years, but they had selected well. Jal Tagar of Mars had been reached, and doubtless others among the highest officials and scientists in the Federation! This explained it all, the growing havoc and sabotage—
Curt saw the ghastly pattern, then he saw Landreth collapse against the wall as if all strength were being drained from him. Lorine hurried to his side, but Landreth waved her away.
"No, child, don't worry about me now! Heaven knows I've hated Earth.... I've done some terrible things in my time ... but nothing so terrible as allowing these creatures to get foothold here...." He pulled himself erect. "Jeffers! Has the Federation plunged into war?"
It was Curt who answered. "They're on the verge of it!"
"That is their plan. Already they have the secret of all our weapons. They have the Venus allotropic metal. They have the Frequency Tuner! With it, they can return to their System and be back here within a year! They'll bring hundreds of thousands of Energons.... They hope we'll be at war ... our planets will be easy pickings!"
"The silver spacer!" Curt snapped. "They're leaving in it?"
"In a few days. The Frequency Tuner has been installed! Some of the men took it for a test flight yesterday." Again Landreth staggered, as if fighting a battle within. "The spacer is well guarded, but I might get you weapons ... as for me...."
"Then hurry, man!" It was Rikert, eager. "Just let me get my hands on an electro again!"
"Two of you come with me."
Curt and Rikert stepped forward. Landreth looked at his daughter as if there was much more he wanted to say. But there wasn't time. He held her close for a moment, then thrust her away. "Take care of her, Jeffers!"
Lorine's eyes were red-rimmed, as if she knew she'd never see her father alive again. They all knew it.
Landreth inserted a three-pronged device near the doorway. The curtain vanished. The three men stepped through, and Landreth tossed the key back to Jeffers.
Curt observed the man closely, as they reached a car which sped them toward the compound above. Landreth seemed drawing upon his last energy-reserves. Curt wondered how the man kept going! And if he was Energon controlled, why had he come to help them?
"The tsith-drug," Landreth gasped, as if sensing Curt's wonderment. "It allows you to regain your identity ... but only briefly. I didn't want Lorine to know ... that I'm dying!"
Curt was aghast. Only Callistans could withstand the ravages of this drug, and eventually it destroyed even them. Landreth must have taken enough to kill two ordinary men! Now the Energon force within him was regaining control. Tiny particles of light came from his bare face and hands, similar to radium disintegration seen under a powerful microscope.
"Landreth! Wi
ll electros kill these men?"
"The Earthian bodies—yes. But not the Energons. Watch out ... for the potential! That one they call the Zemmd ... there is no—" His words were suddenly cut off as he clutched at his throat. Their car reached the upper level. Here the pervading blue had deepened to a simulation of night, but still they heard the sounds of work going on.
"Hurry, man! The weapons first!" Rikert was urging.
Landreth nodded. Even that was an effort for him now. He seemed suffering untold tortures. Supporting Landreth between them, they neared a low-structured building which he indicated. But Landreth fell. He was a dead weight in their grasp, then he crumpled to the ground.
"The spaceship—wait until—" He tried to say more, but the words came slurred and unnatural.
They left Landreth there, hurried on to the building he had pointed out. They pushed into a large shadowy room. It seemed a storeroom for tools, as well as strange machines similar to those in the smashed Energon spacer.
"Here they are!" Rikert spied the weapons, apparently the same ones Frane had taken from them. These Energon-controlled men were so contemptuous of Earth weapons that these had been tossed aside! "What next? Try and get to that spacer?"
"Too many men about! We'll have to wait." Curt felt that was what Landreth had tried to tell him. Rikert grumbled; with an electro in his hand he felt he could overcome any obstacle. Remembering Lorine and the others, Curt thrust three electros in his belt and cradled the lensed radiant-gun. They hurried from the room.
Landreth was dead. But now, with a feeling of danger, Curt suddenly straightened away from the body. It glowed, as if from a weird inner aura! The aura seemed to coalesce, take definite form. An Energon emerged directly upward from the earthly remains! Spinning, crackling angrily, it hung poised for a mere instant then darted straight at the two men.
With an oath, Rikert swung his electro up and sent a charge at the six-inch globe. It connected, sent the thing buffeting back—but that was all. It swept beneath the beam and darted upon Rikert. It fastened just below his throat. Rikert screamed, clutched at the vibrant shape, but his fingers seemed to sink through it. Then the Energon was gone—had completely entered his body!
The event was so swift that Curt stood numbed with horror. To fire would have meant hitting Rikert. Now Curt saw the man stiffen, saw the startled expression leave his eyes. A queer emotion rippled across Rikert's features ... then he whirled upon Curt, the electro uplifted.
"Rikert, you fool!" Curt's cry was instinctive as he flung himself aside. The electro-beam passed so close to his face he could feel the swirling heat of it.
"Rikert—" But Rikert was no longer Earthian, he was Energon! The thought stabbed at Curt even as he brought the radiant beam around in a swift arc. It slashed across Rikert's body. A sickness rose within Curt, but it was his life or Rikert's now! He held the beam fast, saw Rikert go down in a mass of disintegrant flame. In seconds it was all over. Curt waited tensely, but this time there was no sign of the Energon form.
Could the radiant beam have destroyed it too? But here was no time for speculation. Through the deepening gloom he saw a group of men approaching. If they'd seen the flash of the gun—
Curt seized what was left of Rikert's body, shuddering as it seemed to fall apart in his hands. But he managed to drag it into the building's shadow, then did the same with Landreth's. The men were coming nearer. Curt crouched back in the shadows, gun ready. They passed him by, heading toward some rough stone buildings that apparently served as barracks.
Now other men were heading toward the barracks, as the sound of work died away. Apparently they needed rest, despite the Energon forces. Curt peered toward the central building where the Zemmd reposed. Did it sleep too? Curt doubted that. At all costs they must avoid the supernal power of the thing!
He remembered Frane's words, "You will become a part of us; I promise it will be soon."
He must get back to the others! Curt waited until the way seemed clear, then darted across the compound to where Landreth had left the car. Seconds later he was descending to the lower corridors.
A glow from the electron curtain showed him the room. Curt raced forward, a single thought hammering at him now. They had weapons! It meant a fighting chance, if they could avoid the thing that happened to Rikert....
Then Curt stopped. The curtain still crackled across the doorway, an impenetrable barrier. But he heard Jeffers' voice.
"I tell you it's true! Emmons is an official agent of Earth government. Suppose we do pull out of this, what'll your life be worth? He'll take you back for trial—" A pause, then:
"That spacer is allotropic metal! And we'd have the Frequency Tuner—think of it! We could build up the organization again, you and I, Lorine. We know all the secret bases, and how your father operated. He'd want you to go on, Lorine—"
Through the rage that rose up to choke him, Curt called out to them. He saw the blurred figure of Jeffers move toward the door, then the curtain vanished as Jeffers used the key. Curt stepped quickly inside.
"So that's your game, Jeffers! Back to space-piracy, and you think you'll use the spacer the Energons have built here! You'd even talk Lorine into it with you."
Jeffers' dark face creased in the barest semblance of a smile.
"Landreth told me to take care of her, didn't he? After all, she used to be part of our crew, and before I see you take her back for trial—"
Curt turned to the girl, spoke softly.
"Your father is dead, Lorine. I'm sorry." He saw her features tighten. She seemed a mere automation, beyond all emotion or grief. Jeffers had taken advantage of this in trying to talk her into his plan. Curt touched one of the electros at his waist.
"I should burn you!" he told Jeffers in a cold, tight voice, and Jeffers went pale. "As it is, we're a hell of a way from being out of this spot, and we'll need you! We'll have to make a try for that spacer." He tossed an electro to Jeffers, handed one to Lorine.
"What happened to Rikert?"
"He's dead too." Curt didn't explain further, for he suddenly knew what was wrong here. He whirled upon Jeffers.
"Tor Ekkov! Where'd he go? Why'd you let him leave here?"
"He insisted on it. Something about a Tele-Magnum! He was driving me crazy with that damned tune of his—"
Curt swore inaudibly. "How long has he been gone?"
"Not long. You've only been gone twenty minutes." Jeffers shrugged. "Anyway, he acted crazy. Why worry about him?"
"Why? He'll ruin whatever chances we have! We've got to stop him!" Curt raced from the room, with Jeffers and Lorine pounding after him.
At the far cross-corridor Curt paused uncertainly, staring around.
"What's it about, Emmons?" Concern was in Jeffers' voice now. "What's that Martian up to?"
"Back there in the spacer—he spotted a Tele-Magnum! If he manages to operate it, the Zemmd is going to know it! We won't have a chance!"
VIII
Curt hurried to the right, not sure of his direction now in this underground place. But he stopped abruptly at the next corridor. His heart leaped. Huddled against the angle of the wall was the body of a man.
Curt turned him over. It was the man he knew as Frane! Twisted tightly around his throat, cutting into the flesh, was a plasticoid belt that Curt recognized as Tor's.
Jeffers was right. Tor had gone fanatical crazy, determined that nothing would stop him from reaching the Tele-Magnum and getting his voice through to Mars! But now another thought sliced into Curt's mind. The Energon-form which had inhabited Frane's body! There were two alternatives. Either it had emerged and seized control of Tor, or had sped back to give the alarm.
There was no time to waste! At the end of this corridor Curt saw the crumpled prow of the alien spacer. He hurried toward it, Jeffers and Lorine running to keep pace beside him. Curt squeezed into the low-arched doorway, beneath twisted and tumbled metalloy beams. Again he was in the room where they'd seen the array of machines, including the o
ne Tor thought was a Tele-Magnum.
And Tor Ekkov was there. Curt knew it, as the angry sound of an electro beam sang close. It splashed against a bulkhead beside him. Curt waved Jeffers and the girl back, then pressed forward.
He saw Tor. The man was still Martian, Curt could tell that; the Energon hadn't reached him. But a glint of madness was in the depths of his eyes, as he held an electro in his tight-knuckled fist. He must have taken it from Frane, Curt thought.
And he solved the secret of the Tele-Magnum! Curt heard a faint hum, saw the glow of the selector screen as selenic cells poured power into the trans-etheric beam. Curt came a step nearer, into the room.
Again Tor's electro splashed fire at him.
"So it's you, Curt Emmons. No, don't come any closer!" The Martian's eyes darted to the lensed radiant-rifle Curt held cradled in his arm. "Throw that thing on the floor. I mean it! I'll blast you!"
Curt did as he was told. The Martian had gone mad. Helpless and weaponless, Curt glanced at the screen. A shifting blur was focussing—Turibek, capitol city of Mars! Tor had managed to get the beam through!
"Don't try to stop me, Emmons. We'll never get out of this alive, I realize that now! But I swore I'd get my voice through to my people! Six long years I've waited—"
Curt tensed, almost leaped forward, but Tor held the weapon steady upon him. It was then that Curt felt a pronounced overtone across his mind. He knew the Zemmd had contacted them!
"Curt!" It was Lorine's whispered voice in the doorway behind him. He felt the grip of an electro pressed into his hand.
"We had a fighting chance, Tor," Curt grated, "but you've ruined that! The Zemmd has contacted us. He'll send his men down here. Yes, we'll die!" He brought the electro unobserved to his side. "And you'd leave the entire Federation prey to these things because of your damned stupid fanaticism about Mars!"