Millennium

by Everett B. Cole

smallgarrison there has proved expensive and ineffective." He tapped the cupon the table, then set it down and looked about the apartment. Finally,he looked up at Florel.

  "You have our permission to try your scheme," he decided. "We willinvest you with the barony of Menstal."

  * * * * *

  Konar paused at the castle gate. It had been pure chance, he knew, thatthey had noticed this bit of equipment. The east coast earldom wasknown, of course, but somehow, searchers had failed to discover that theEarl held any equipment. Konar shrugged. He probably hadn't inheritedit, but had gotten it by chance, and his possession of the mentacom andshield weren't commonly known.

  "Well," he told himself, "we know about it now. I'll make a routinepickup, and he won't have it any more."

  A pair of weary sentries stood just inside the heavy doors. One shiftedhis weight, to lean partially on his pike, partially against thestonework. Idly, he looked out at the road which led through thevillage, staring directly through the place where Konar stood.

  Konar smiled to himself. "Good thing I've got my body shield modulatedfor full refraction," he told himself. "He'd be a little startled if heshould see me."

  The sentry yawned and relaxed still more, sliding down a little, till hesat on a slightly protruding stone. His companion looked over at him.

  "Old Marnio sees you like that," he muttered warningly, "makes lashes."

  The other yawned again. "No matter. He'll be drowsing inside, where it'swarm. Be a long time before he comes out to relieve."

  Konar nodded amusedly. The castle guard, he gathered, was a little lessthan perfectly alert. This would be simple. He touched the controls ofhis body shield to raise himself a few inches above the cobblestones,and floated between the two sentries, going slowly to avoid making abreeze.

  Once inside, he decided to waste no more time. Of course, he would haveto wait inside the Earl's sleeping room till the man slept, but therewas no point in waiting out here. He passed rapidly through the outerward, ignoring the serfs and retainers who walked between the dwellingsnestled against the wall.

  The inner gate had been closed for the night, so he lifted and went overthe wall.

  He looked around, deciding that the Earl's living quarters would be inthe wooden building at the head of the inner courtyard. As heapproached, he frowned. The windows were tightly closed against thenight air. He would have to enter through the doors, and a young squireblocked that way. The lad was talking to a girl.

  There was nothing to do but wait, so Konar poised himself a few feetfrom them. They'd go inside eventually, and he would float in afterthem. Then, he could wait until the Earl was asleep.

  After that, it would be a simple, practiced routine. The small handweapon he carried would render the obsolete body shield ineffective, ifnecessary, and a light charge would assure that the man wouldn't awaken.It would be the work of a few minutes to remove the equipment the manhad, to substitute the purely ornamental insignia, and to sweep out ofthe room, closing the window after him. Konar hoped it would stayclosed. The Earl might be annoyed if it flew open, to expose him to thedreaded night air.

  In the morning, the Earl would waken, innocent of any knowledge of hisvisitor. He would assume his talismans had simply lost their powers dueto some occult reason, as many others had during recent times.

  Idly, Konar listened to the conversation of the two before him.

  * * * * *

  The squire was telling the girl of his prowess in the hunt. Tomorrow, heannounced, he would accompany the Earl's honored guest from the easternland.

  "And I'm the one that can show him the best coverts," he boasted. "HisGrace did well to assign me to the Duke."

  The girl lifted her chin disdainfully. "Since you're such a greathunter," she told him, "perchance you could find my brooch, which I lostin yonder garden." She turned to point at the flower-bordered patch ofberry bushes at the other end of the court. In so doing, she faceddirectly toward Konar.

  She was a pretty girl, he thought. His respect for the young squire'sjudgment grew. Any man would admire the slender, well featured facewhich was framed within a soft cloud of dark, well combed hair. Shelooked quite different from the usual girls one saw in this country.Possibly, she was of eastern descent, Konar thought.

  The girl's eyes widened and her mouth flew open, making her facegrotesquely gaunt. Abruptly, she was most unpretty. For a fewheartbeats, she stood rigidly, staring at Konar. Then she put her handsto her face, her fingers making a rumpled mess of her hair. Her eyes,fixed and with staring pupils, peered between her fingers. And shescreamed.

  Konar felt suddenly faint, as though the girl's horror was somehowcommunicated to him. The scream reverberated through his brain, risingin an intolerable crescendo, blotting out other sensory perception. Hefought to regain control of his fading senses, but the castle courtblurred and he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. He startedsliding down an endless, dark chute, ending in impenetrable blackness.

  * * * * *

  Suddenly, the black dissolved into a flash of unbearably brilliantlight, and Konar's eyes closed tightly.

  He was alertly conscious again, but his head ached, and he feltreluctant, even unable, to open his eyes. Even closed, they ached fromthe brilliant spots which snapped into being before them. He shuddered,bringing his head down to his breast, gripping it with shaking hands,and breathing with uneven effort.

  This was like nothing he had ever met before. He would have to get backto the others--find out what had happened to him--get help.

  He concentrated on his eyelids, forcing them open. A crowd wasgathering, to look accusingly at the squire, who supported the faintinggirl in his arms. Her eyes fluttered weakly, and she struggled to regainher feet.

  "That awful thing! It's right over there!" She pointed at Konar.

  Again, the unbearable ululation swept through his mind. Convulsively, heswept his hand to his shield controls, fighting to remain conscious justlong enough to set his course up and away.

  Before he was able to move and think with anything approachingnormality, he was far above the earth. He looked at the tiny castle farbelow, noticing that from his altitude, it looked like some child's toy,set on a sand hill, with bits of moss strewed about to make a realisticpicture. He shivered. His head still ached dully, and he could stillhear echoes of the horrified screaming.

  "I don't know what it was," he told himself, "but I hope I never runinto anything like that again."

  He located the hill which concealed the flier, and dropped rapidlytoward it.

  As he entered, the pilot noticed him.

  "Well, that was a quick mission," he commented. "How'd you----" Helooked at Konar's pain-lined face. "Hey, what's the matter, youngster?You look like the last end of a bad week."

  Konar tried to smile, but it didn't work very well.

  "I ran into something, Barskor," he said. "Didn't complete my mission. Idon't know what happened, but I hope it never happens again."

  Barskor looked at him curiously, then turned. "Chief," he called,"something's gone wrong. Konar's been hurt."

  * * * * *

  Meinora listened to Konar's story, then shook his head unhappily.

  "You ran into a transvisor, I'm afraid. We didn't think there were anyon this planet." He paused. "There were definitely none discovered tothe west, and we looked for them. But now, we're close to the eastcoast, and you said that girl looked eastern. The eastern continent maybe loaded with 'em."

  Konar looked curious. "A transvisor? I never heard of them."

  "They're rather rare. You only find them under special conditions, andthose conditions, we thought, are absent here. But when you find one,you can be sure there are more. It runs in families. You see, they'rebeings with a completely wild talent. They can be any age, any species,or of any intelligence, but they're nearly always female. Visibilityrefraction just doesn't work right
for their senses, and they can causetrouble." He looked closely at Konar.

  "You were lucky to get away. A really terrified transvisor could killyou, just as surely as a heavy caliber blaster."

  Konar shivered. "I believe it. But why are they called 'transvisors'?"

  "The name's somewhat descriptive, even if it is incomplete. As I said,visibility refraction doesn't work right in their case. Somehow, theypick up visual sensation right through a screen, regardless of itsadjustment. But things seen through a screen are distorted, and lookabnormal to them. Unless they're used to it, they get frightened whenthey see a person with a refracted body shield. That's when the troublestarts."

  Konar nodded in understanding. "You mean, they transmit their fear?"

  "They do. And they'll shock excite a mentacom, completely distorting itswave pattern. If they remain conscious and scared, their fear is deadlyto its object." Meinora drew a deep breath.

  "As I said, you were lucky. The girl fainted and let you get away." Heshrugged and turned to Barskor.

  "We'll have to change our mode of operation," he added. "We'll pick upthe Earl's mentacom and belt at the hunt tomorrow. Find him alone,knock him out with a paralyzer, and give him parahypnosis afterward.It's not so good, but it's effective. But be sure you are alone, anddon't try to use visual refraction under any circumstance. Be better tobe seen, if it comes to that. There might be another transvisor around."He kicked gently at the seat beside him.

  "This was just a secondary job, done in passing," he said, "but it's agood thing we found this out when we did. It'll change our whole primaryplan. Now, we'll have to slog it out the hard way. On no account cananyone refract. It might be suicide. We'll have to talk to travelers. Wewant to know what abnormal or unusual developments have taken place inwhat country in the last twenty years. Then, we'll have to check themout. We've got a lot of work to do." He looked around. "Ciernar."

  "Yes, sir?" The communications operator looked up.

  "Send in a report on this to Group. Make it 'operational.'"

  Konar tilted his head a little. "Say, chief, you said the transvisor'sfear was amplified by my mentacom. What if I wasn't wearing one?"

  "You wouldn't feel a thing," Meinora smiled. "But don't get any ideas.Without amplification, you couldn't control your shield properly. You'dhave protection, but your refraction control's entirely mental, andlevitation direction depends on mental, not physical control, remember?"

  "But how about you? You don't use amplification. Neither do several ofthe other team chiefs."

  Meinora shrugged. "No," he admitted, "we don't need it, except inabnormal circumstances. But we don't go around scaring transvisors. Theycan't kill us, but they can make us pretty sick. You see we're a littlesensitive in some ways." He shook his head. "No, the only advantage I'vegot is that I can spot a transvisor by her mental pattern--if I getclose enough. There's a little side radiation that can be detected,though it won't pass an amplifier. When you've felt it once, you'llnever forget it. Makes you uncomfortable." He smiled wryly.

  "And you can believe me," he added, "when I do get close to atransvisor, I'm very, very careful not to frighten her."

  * * * * *

  Winter passed, and spring, and summer came. Nal Gerda, Officer of theGuard, stood on the small wharf below the old watchtower. He lookedacross the narrows, examined the cliff opposite him, then looked upwardat the luminous sky. There were a few small clouds, whose fleecywhiteness accentuated the clear blue about them. Brilliant sunshinebathed the wharf and tower, driving away the night mists.

  It would not be long before the new guard came down the cliff. Gerdastretched and drew a deep breath, savoring the summer morning air. Now,it was pleasant, a happy contrast to the sullen skies and biting winterwinds he had faced a few short months ago.

  For a time, he looked at the green atop the cliffs, then he transferredhis attention upriver, toward the bend where the Nalen came out of thepass to blow between the iron cliffs of Menstal. The water flowedswiftly in the narrows, throwing off white glints as its ripples caughtthe sunlight, then deepening to a dark blue where it came into theshadow of the cliffs.

  A sudden call sounded from the lookout far above, and the officerwheeled about, looking to the great chain which stretched from tower tocliff, to block river traffic. It was in proper position, and Gerdalooked back at the bend.

  As he watched, a long, low barge drifted into sight, picking up speed asit came into the rapid current. Polemen balanced themselves alertly inthe bow, their long sticks poised to deflect their course from anythreatening rocks.

  Gerda threw off the almost poetical admiration of beauty that hadpossessed him a moment before and faced the guard house, from whencecame a scuffle of feet and the clank of arms, to tell of the guard'sreadiness.

  "Turn out the Guard." Gerda drew himself up into a commanding pose.

  A group of men-at-arms marched stiffly out, followed by a pair of serfs.The leader saluted Gerda with upraised hand.

  "The Guard is ready, My Captain," he proclaimed. "May the tax be rich."

  Gerda returned the salute. "It will be," he stated positively. "Thesemerchants have learned by now that to insult Portal Menstal with poorofferings is unwise in the extreme. And, mark me, they'll not forget!"

  The barge approached and swung in toward the wharf in obedience toGerda's imperious gesture. One of the polemen jumped ashore, securing aline to a bollard.

  The steersman climbed to the dock, to halt a pace in front of Gerda. Hefolded his hands and bowed his head submissively.

  "Does Your Honor desire to inspect the cargo?"

  "Of course." Gerda's haughty glance appraised the man from toe to crown."Quickly now. I've little time to waste." He glanced back at his clerk,who had a tablet ready.

  "Your name, Merchant?"

  "Teron, of Krongert, may it please you, sir. I have been to----"

  Gerda waved an impatient hand. "Save me your speech, Higgler," he saidcurtly. "What's your cargo value?"

  "Six thousand teloa, Your Honor. We have----"

  "Unload it. I'll look at it." Gerda waved the man to silence.

  * * * * *

  As the bales of goods were placed on the wharf, Gerda examined themcritically. A few, he ordered set aside after a quick check and a fewquestions. Others, he ordered opened and spread out. At last, satisfiedwith his estimate of the cargo's valuation, he turned.

  "Your choice, Merchant?"

  "I would pay, Your Honor," said the man, "to the tenth part of mycargo." He extended a leather bag.

  "Don't haggle with me," snapped Gerda. "The tax is a fifth of yourcargo, as you should well know." His hand sought his sword hilt.

  The merchant's face fell a little, and he produced a second bag, whichhe held out to the officer. "I must apologize," he said. "I am new tothis land."

  "See that you learn its customs quickly, then." Gerda handed the bags tohis clerk.

  "Check these, Lor," he ordered. "I make it a thousand, six hundredteloa."

  An expression of dismay crossed the merchant's face.

  "Your Honor," he wailed, "my cargo is of but six thousand valuation. Iswear it."

  Gerda stepped forward swiftly. His hand raised, to swing in a violent,back-handed arc, his heavy rings furrowing the merchant's face. The manstaggered back, involuntarily raising a hand to his injured cheek.

  As a couple of the men-at-arms raised their pikes to the ready, themerchant righted himself, folded his hands again, and bowed inobeisance. Blood trickled down his chin, a drop spattering on hisclothing. He ignored it.

  "You would dispute my judgment?" Gerda drew his hand up for a secondblow. "Here is no market place for your sharp bargaining. For yourinsolence, another five hundred teloa will be exacted. Make speed!"

  The merchant shook his head dazedly, but offered no word of protest.Silently, he dug into his possessions, to produce a third bag. For amoment, he weighed it in his hand, then reached into it
, to remove a fewloose coins. Without raising his head, he extended the bag to theofficer of the guard.

  Gerda turned. Lor had gone into the guard house, to count the other twobags. The officer raised his voice.

  "Lor, get back out here. I've more for you to count."

  He tossed the bag to the clerk, then stood, glaring at the unfortunatetrader. At last, he kicked the nearest bale.

  "Well," he growled, "get this stuff off the wharf. What are you waitingfor?"

  He watched the barge crew load, then turned. Lor came from the guardhouse.

  "All is in order, My Captain."

  "Very well." Gerda looked at him approvingly. Then, he swung to themerchant, fixing him with a stern glare.

  "We shall make note of your name, Merchant. See thou that you makehonest and accurate valuation in the future. Another time, we shall notbe so lenient. The dungeon of Menstal is no pleasant place."

  He watched till the last of the bargeload was stowed, then noddedcurtly.

  "You may shove off," he said. He turned his head toward the tower.

  "Down chain," he ordered loudly.

  * * * *