by Henry Hasse
“We should have thought of this before! We’d better get in touch with some of the scientists. The man who has been working with Dr. Rahm—what’s his name? Lawton. Dr. Lawton.”
Exhausted from his effort, Dr. Rahm allowed the alien body to collapse into a corner of the cell.
The newsmen and photographers came first They came in droves. They took pictures and rushed away to make the noon editions. Dr. Rahm was big news any day of the week; now, with his disappearance and this monster from God knew where, all other news would be backed off the front page.
“Here’s Dr. Lawton!” someone yelled. Lawton was a rotund, redfaced little man who rushed excitedly down the hall. Rahm hurried to the front of the cell to greet his assistant.
“Good lord!” Lawton cried when he sighted the thing. He gaped at the gesturing tentacles. “Who are you? In the name of biological science what are you? Where is Dr. Rahm?”
Once again Rahm called upon all his mental power to get a message across. If anyone could understand, or help him get back his body, it was Dr. Lawton. But there was too much turmoil, and Lawton’s mind was not clear. He was in a frenzy of apprehension. His loyalty to Dr. Rahm amounted to almost pure worship.
Lawton don’t you understand? Make your mind receptive, man! Rahm flailed against the bars in a prodigious mental effort. Lawton blanched, and backed away across the hall.
Rahm shuffled to the rear of the cell. This would never do! He must make them understand! At this very moment his space-fuel formula was probably in danger; he could think of no other reason for this fantastic interchange of identities. The laboratories were well guarded, and only as Dr. Rahm could the alien intellect gain access!
Then, into the tangle of onlookers rushed an excited official. “Dr. Lawton!” he shrieked to make himself heard. “I’ve had a call from Dr. Rahm’s home. He’s just returned there! Says he was out for an early morning walk, and he can’t imagine what all the excitement is about.”
“Thank God” cried Lawton. “Is he on his way here? He may have an explanation for all this.”
Dr. Rahm, in his grotesque body, heard. He remained quiet at the rear of the cell. It was with a strange mixture of feelings that he awaited his own body’s coming to view him!
They arrived at last. A group of officials and clamoring reporters. Among them was the tall figure of Dr. Rahm, but it did not hurry; it still had the awkward, unfamiliar tread.
The figure paid no heed to the barrage of questions. Approaching the cell, he hesitated and looked down at his two hands as though they were hopelessly inadequate; as though he expected to find more—nine, perhaps.
“Dr. Rahm, you seem upset,” Lawton greeted him. “Are you ill?”
Dr. Rahm’s body shook its head. Then it was opposite the cell. It turned slowly. The intellect within Dr. Rahm’s body, and Dr. Rahm’s intellect within the alien body, faced each other there in utter silence.
For half a minute they surveyed each other. The atmosphere was tense. Then the creature within the cell waved his appendages and whistled out:
“Who in heavens name are you?”
He was sure the other being understood.
For a moment the body of Dr. Rahm remained unmoving, unsmiling. Then it turned, and the two hands made a sweeping gesture to indicate that all the others must leave. They left slowly, mumbling little protests. All except Lawton. Lawton stayed as though it were expected of him. Dr. Rahm’s face frowned darkly. “Go,” the word rumbled out.
“Don’t go!” Dr. Rahm within the cell whistled shrilly. “Don’t listen to him, Lawton! This is the real me!”
But Lawton left with the others, his brow knit in puzzlement.
Alone, the two faced each other. Apparently a tenuous thread still linked the two minds, for Rahm felt the alien’s thoughts impinging delicately.
You ask who I am. I am known as Aiiko, and I have come a long way to accomplish a purpose!
Dr. Rahm felt a rising anger. I must have my body back! If you harm it—
Until my mission is carried out I must keep control of your body. Be assured, I will do all within my power to see that no harm comes to it.
Rahm sensed the power of this alien intellect. The fact that Aiiko was telepathing through the unfamiliar medium of a human brain proved it. Rahm meditated a moment, then replied shrewdly, I admit your superiority. I will offer no resistance to your will, but naturally I am curious. I am accounted one of Earth’s greatest scientists. In deference to my standing I feel that explanations are due to me.
The answer came stark and clear. I know, Dr. Rahm, who you are. What is it you wish to know?
First: where did you come from?
I journeyed here in a spaceship of my own construction, from your sister planet—that which you call Mars.
Rahm’s mind leaped. He felt that he must proceed carefully now. How were you able to assume control of my body? he projected the thought.
That is not important. The unguarded mind offers easy access. But your will-power was stronger than I suspected, and you unwittingly bridged the gap into my body. That was unfortunate. The transfer back again will be more difficult.
Rahm felt a wave of repugnance at the alien flesh he wore. More than that, he was aghast at the cold dispassionate attitude of the Martian intellect. This inhuman horror had come to Earth for some diabolic purpose! He must learn what it was!
There came a wave of pure intellectual amusement from Aiiko’s mind. I regret to tell you this, Dr. Rahm. You are too close to the secret of interplanet travel. The first space step after the moon would be Mars . . . and this must not happen. I am here to see that it does not!
Rahm stood there numbed, watching his own body smile at him. Now he knew that his initial surmise was correct. You would destroy my formulae? he flashed. You claim to be a scientist! Those are the products of my life’s work! I could not replace them for years!
Aiiko’s thought came cold. Earthians must not reach Mars. Not yet! But l am wasting time here . . . I came only to see what these clumsy fools would do with my body. I see now that it will be safe for a while. He turned away, then sent one parting mental shot. There will be another meeting soon. If you wish your body back, Dr. Rahm, see that MINE is unharmed.
Rahm’s alien body quivered with rage and the nine appendages clutched at the cell bars, but in vain.
He must think logically! Analytically! Already Aiiko was on his way to the laboratories, and certainly the guards would let him through. No doubt there was some vastly terrifying reason for the Martians not wanting Earthmen to achieve space travel! Perhaps the Martians themselves were preparing to descend upon Earth. The thought horrified him. This might be the first move in an invasion by red planet mind-stealing armies.
“Why have you made Dr. Rahm act so strangely!” The soft voice startled him, and then he knew it wasn’t a voice, but a mental current that bordered upon terror. He lifted his protuberant eyes and saw Lawton standing there. He was alone. . . .
Lawton! There might still be a chance. Quickly his Martian eyes scanned the floor, and in one corner he spied some chunks of plaster fallen from the ceiling. He seized one in the double feeler at the end of an appendage. If only he’d thought of this before! Slowly and shakily, he began to trace letters on the wall. He had Lawton’s attention now.
“I,” he, wrote first, followed by “A-M.” Then in a flurry of impatience: “D-R-R-A-H-M.”
Lawton’s face paled. “Dr. Rahm! You!"
Rahm continued. “MUST GET TO LAB! HURRY.”
Lawton’s eyes bulged in his pale round face. He wet his lips nervously, still unable to believe. “I must be sure,” he muttered, while Rahm lashed the tentacles furiously. “Write more! What’s—uh—my wife’s first name. And the number of our last experiment!”
Quivering with impatience, Rahm wrote both the answers. “HELENE. X-293. HURRY!”
That was enough for Lawton. He turned and sped down the hall. He was back a minute later with the cell keys, bu
t as lie fumbled for the right key the jailer came thundering after him.
“Here, you lunatic, what are you doing? You can’t let that thing cut of there! Dr. Rahm told us to keep it safe!”
Lawton turned. Eyes blazed in his flushed face. Without warning his right fist lashed out and caught the jailer’s chin. The man crumpled against the opposite wall.
Nice work, Lawton! Rahm telepathed vigorously as he shambled from the cell.
“Come on, Doc, my car’s out in front. I don’t know what this is all about, but Tm with you!” Lawton paused only to lift the gun from the jailer’s holster, and then they were hurrying down the corridor. Rahm found a use for his tentacles at last He slapped them against the floor and they sped him along amazingly.
In the outer lobby a startled policeman tried to stop them, but Dr. Rahm was beginning to coordinate these alien muscles now! He whipped the longest tentacle around the man’s ankles and jerked him to the floor. Lawton waved the gun and the others fell back. Then he and Lawton were outside, tumbling into the latter’s car. They roared away from the curb.
More than ever now Rahm felt a need to communicate with Lawton, tell him all that had happened. But there wasn’t time. That Martian intellect housing his body must have reached the laboratory by now! Rahm felt his body quiver with rage and impatience. He was determined to destroy his own Earth body, if need be to stop Aiiko.
The laboratory was a brick farmhouse some five miles out of town. Rahm crouched low on the back seat as they approached the high fence surrounding the property.
“Has Dr. Rahm arrived?” he heard Lawton ask the guard as the main gate swung open.
“Yes, sir; not ten minutes ago. Has something happened to his car? He came in a cab this morning.”
Ten minutes! Perhaps they were not too late. Rahm tumbled from the car as it stopped in front of the house. One tentacle closed about the gun where Lawton had placed it on the seat. He whistled something warningly and gestured for Lawton to remain where he was.
Holding the gun aloft, Rahm entered the house and hurried toward the lab where his precious plans were kept. Those were all-important! The data was along unprecedented lines. He stood outside the door, listening . . . for the merest instant, and then he pushed his way in. His gaze took in the litter of implements and papers scattered about the room just as Aiiko, the Martian, whirled the Earth body around to face him . . . .
It was eerie, confronting his own body which he might as a last resort have to kill. Perhaps Aiiko was thinking the same thing; the human face had paled and now it tried to smile, by the result was a grimace.
Rahm glanced at the drawer of his private desk which had been forced open. He surged forward, the filaments atop his head vibrated angrily. Give me those papers!
Aiiko glanced at the sheaf of papers in his hands. I have been studying your equations. It is close, very close—
Rahm didn’t waste time. He propelled himself forward. The tentacle holding the revolver lashed in a vicious arc toward the Earth head. Aiiko leaped aside as a thought flashed angrily, You have coordinated the use of my limbs! So have I learned yours. A fist shot straight from the shoulder and found its mark where the triangular Martian head joined the bulbous body. Dr. Rahm felt excruciating pain along every nerve . . . he could not move the tentacles . . . Aiiko, familiar with the body, had struck a paralyzing center! The tentacle holding the gun went limp, the weapon clattered to the floor.
Aiiko bent down and appropriated it. So, Dr. Rahm, stand where you are! You blundering fool! Why did you have to interfere? I might have explained to you later . . . at least I wanted to spare you watching this!
He placed the sheaf of papers in a metal tray, then examined a row of bottles. Gingerly he lifted one of them. Acid! Through a numbing horror Dr. Rahm realized his intention. Aiiko’s mission would be accomplished. He would return to Mars with the news that Earth was years away from space travel. What would happen then? Perhaps a Martian invasion. Anything. Would it be a year? Two years?
Desperately, Dr. Rahm tried to move. Every muscle of the alien body strained with the effort . . . and one of the tentacles moved. The paralysis was wearing away! Aiiko didn’t notice. With a supreme effort Rahm eased the tentacle forward . . . close to the floor . . . it touched the Earth ankle . . . gently . . .
Aiiko’s backward leap was too late. The Earth body crashed to the floor, but while falling the finger tightened automatically upon the trigger of the gun . . . twice, three times. Rahm felt the bullets enter his alien body. A hot sticky substance streamed out, but that did not stop him now. Grimly he pulled himself forward. The other tentacles were beginning to move. He wrapped one around the Earth body’s throat . . .
Your own body! came frantically from Aiiko who seemed momentarily stunned.
That doesn’t matter! Even if I must die . . . The tentacle tightened.
Fool! Aiiko’s thoughts came in a desperate surge. You don’t know what have you done! I tried to warn you—Suddenly the Martian thought rose, overwhelmed him, took fierce hold on his mind. Dr. Rahm fought it, but only for seconds. The potential was too great. He felt his mind reeling, he couldn’t keep hold. . . and then he seemed back in a dream once more.
In the dream he was a million miles somewhere in space. There was a great arctic wind, and he was cold. He cringed from the crystal starlight all about him. A great red body appeared, drawing him to it with unimaginable speed. He was on another planet. He knew it was Mars, yet it did not seem strange to him, because he was no longer Dr. Rahm . . . not even his mind.
This was more than a dream! His mind was alert and hunger-clear. There were alien forms and cities. There was death and destruction and terror abroad, but it did not last long. All substance wavered into shadow.
Again there came swift movement. He was somewhere in the vast stretches of a red desert and terror was here too, terror and frantic urgency. He was fleeing . . . fleeing and hating, as somewhere afar off an omnivorous mind reached out with a snapping intelligence . . .
It could only have been seconds, but the dream of his flight seemed to encompass an eternity. Then it wavered and blurred and slipped aside, and there was no more terror as Dr. Rahm’s mind passed into a great void beyond dreams.
*
Dr. Wesley Rahm stirred and sat up. He was on his laboratory floor. He looked dazedly down at his hands. Two hands! Once more he inhabited his comfortable Earth body; comfortable, except for a choking pain around the throat where a tentacle had wrapped.
A figure was bending over him.
“Lawton!”
“I heard the shots. Is it really you, sir? Thank heaven you’re yourself again!”
“Lawton! Aiiko—the Martian—don’t let him die!”
“I’m afraid it’s too late.” Lawton glanced with repugnance at the tentacled body. “Three bullets at close range—”
Dr. Rahm arose. He gazed sadly at the grayish hulk. “He shot himself, Lawton. Then he transferred his mind back into his own dying body and gave me mine again! But during that transition . . . I learned it all . . . the entire reason for his coming here!”
Rahm turned to the table where the formulae still lay. He took up the bottle of acid, and with a sad smile poured the contents over the papers.
“Dr. Rahm!” Lawton leaped forward.
“No, Lawton. I am myself again. Aiiko came here and gave his life to warn us, and I must carry through his plan. We shall not want space-travel now and shall not achieve it . . . not for a few years.”
Lawton was a picture of abject misery as he watched the papers crumble away.
“It’s a strange thing, Lawton. In his dying moments Aiiko gave me the story, together with pictures out of his experience. It was all too vivid! I remember, and I believe!” Rahm passed a hand across his brow as he remembered Aiiko’s story. He told it slowly.
Mars was a dying planet. The Cismuks were the final race of Mars, and Aiiko was the last of the race. Despite their vast science the race
had waned, particularly in the last score of years. Martians had perished in unprecedented numbers, entire cities were decimated, and for no apparent reason! All medical and biological science was put to the problem—without result!
Only recently had the final group of scientists discovered the cause. It dated back more than a century, to the time when one of their Leaders, the super-minds, went mad. At that time he was cast out of the Supreme Council and it was thought that he had wandered into the Red Desert and died.
Such was far from the truth. This crazed creature, a super-intellect, had taken refuge in the desert. There he labored unceasingly to prove his theories on mental wavelengths and absorption. And he succeeded! He proved his theories with vengeance! He worked at first through thalamic scanners which contacted other Martian minds and brought them into tune with his own. Gradually, he amplified the process. By means of inverse magnetic wavelengths he literally absorbed other minds into his own reservoir! Everywhere across the planet, slowly at first but with increasing frequency, Martian bodies died, but not before their mental power was absorbed into the consciousness of this mad creature to become a part of that madness!
Dr. Rahm paused for a moment. H: was pale and shaken as he relived the story and the terror which Aiiko had shown him.
What a revenge this creature planned on those who had cast him out! His dream of conquest grew. He had fashioned a vast stronghold beneath the desert sands, and there he lived on, undetected, as the power of his consciousness multiplied in direct ratio to the depleted Martian populace. Only recently did the last of the Martian scientists find him. They fought, bringing all weapons into play, but it was too late. This mad creature had become a vast entity whose mental power encompassed most of the planet. And he dreamed of further conquests. . .
Aiiko was the last. Fleeing to the furthermost pole of Mars, he finished the spaceship on which his colleagues had been working. He travelled to Earth. Imagine his horror upon learning that Earthmen were on the verge of space-travel and contemplating a trip to Mars! Aiiko destroyed his own space vessel, and then sought to destroy my plans.