by Andre Norton
18
World in Doubt?
The day was dully overcast as all days had been since they had begunthis sulk-and-march penetration into the mountain territory. Ross couldnot accept the idea that the Foanna might actually command wind andwave, storm and sun, as the Hawaikans firmly believed, but the gloomyweather _had_ favored them so far. And now they had reached the lastbreathing point before they took the plunge into the heart of the enemycountry. About the way in which they were to make that plunge, Ross hadhis own plan. One he did not intend to share with either Ashe or Karara.Though he had had to outline it to the one now waiting here with him.
"This is still your mind, younger brother?"
He did not turn his head to look at the cloaked figure. "It is still mymind!" Ross could be firm on that point.
The Terran backed out of the vantage place from which he had beenstudying the canyonlike valley cupping the Baldy spaceship. Now he gotto his feet and faced Ynlan, his own gray cloak billowing out in thewind to reveal the Rover scale armor underneath.
"You can do it for me?" he asked in turn. During the past days theFoanna had admitted that the weird battle within the citadel hadweakened and limited their "magic." Last night they had detected a forcebarrier ahead and to transport the whole party through that bytelaporting was impossible.
"Yes, you alone. Then my wand would be drained for a space. But what canyou do within their hold, save be meat for their taking?"
"There can not be too many of them left there. That's a small ship. Theylost five at the citadel, and the Rovers have three prisoners. No signof the scout ship we know they have--so more of them must be gone in it.I won't be facing an army. And what they have in the way of weapons maybe powered by installations in the ship. A lot of damage done there. Oreven if the ship lifted--" He was not sure of what he could do; this wasa venture depending largely on improvisation at the last moment.
"You propose to send off the ship?"
"I don't know whether that is possible. No, perhaps I can only attracttheir attention, break through the force shield so the rest may attack."
Ross knew that he must attempt this independent action, that in order toremain the Ross Murdock he had always been, he must be an actor not aspectator.
The Foanna did not argue with him now. "Where--?" Her long sleeverippled as she gestured to the canyon. Dull as the skies were overhead,there was light here--too much of it for his purpose as the ground aboutthe ship was open. To appear there might be fatal.
Ross was grasped by another and much more promising idea. The Foanna hadtransported them all to the deck of Torgul's cruiser after asking him topicture it for her mentally. And to all outward appearances the Baldyship before them now was twin to the one which had taken him once on afantastic voyage across a long-vanished stellar empire. Such a ship heknew!
"Can you put me in the ship?"
"If you have a good memory of it, yes. But how know you these ships?"
"I was in one once for many days. If these are alike, then I know itwell!"
"And if this is unlike, to try such may mean your death."
He had to accept her warning. Yet outwardly this ship was a duplicate.And before he had voyaged on the derelict he had also explored a Wreckerfreighter on his own world thousands of years before his own race hadevolved. There was one portion of both ships which had beenidentical--save for size--and that part was the best for his purpose.
"Send me--here!"
With closed eyes, Ross produced a mental picture of the control cabin.Those seats which were not really seats but webbing support swingingbefore banks of buttons and levers; all the other installations he hadwatched, studied, until they were as known to him as the plate bulkheadsof the cabin below in which he had slept. Very vivid, that memory. Hefelt the touch of the Foanna's cool fingers on his forehead--then it wasgone. He opened his eyes.
No more wind and gloom, he stood directly behind the pilot's web-sling,facing a vista-plate and rows of controls, just as he had stood so manytimes in the derelict. He had made it! This was the control cabin of thespacer. And it was alive--the faint thrumming in the air, the play oflights on the boards.
Ross pulled the cowl of his Foanna cloak up over his head. He had haddays to accustom himself to the bulk of the robe, but still itsswathings were sometimes a hindrance rather than a help. Slowly heturned. There were no Baldies here, but the well door to the lowerlevels was open, and from it came small sounds echoing up thecommunication ladder. The ship was occupied.
Not for the first time since he had started on this venture Ross wishedfor more complete information. Doubtless several of those buttons orlevers before him controlled devices which could be the greatest aid tohim now. But which and how he did not know. Once in just such a cabin hehad meddled and, in activating a long silent installation, had calledthe attention of the Baldies to their wrecked ship, to the Terranslooting it. Only by the merest chance had the vengeance of the stellarspacemen fallen then on the Russian investigators and not on his ownpeople.
He knew better than to touch anything before the pilot's station, butthe banks of controls to one side were concerned with the innerwell-being of the ship--and they tempted him. To go it blind was,however, more of a risk than he dared take. There was one futureprecaution for him.
From a very familiar case beside the pilot's seat Ross gathered up acollection of disks, sorted through them hastily for one which bore acertain symbol on its covering. There was only one of those. Slappingthe rest back into their container, Ross pressed a button on the controlboard.
Again his guess paid off! Another disk was exposed as a small panel slidback. Ross clawed that out of the holder, put in its place the one hehad found. Now, if his choice had been correct, the crew who took off inthis ship, unless they checked their route tape first, would findthemselves heading to another primitive planet and not returning tobase. Perhaps exhaustion of fuel might ground them past hope of everregaining their home port again. Next to damaging the ship, which hecould not do, this was the best thing to assure that any enemy leavingHawaika would not speedily return with a second expeditionary force.
Ross dropped the route disk he had taken out into a pocket on his belt,to be destroyed when he had the chance. Now he catfooted across the deckto look into the well and listen.
The walls glowed with a diffused light. From here the Terran could countat least four levels under him, with perhaps another. The bottom twoought to be supplies and general storage. Then the engine room, techlabs above, and next to the control cabin the living quarters.
Through the fabric of the ship, shivering up his body from the soles ofhis feet, he could feel the vibration of engines at work. One such mustcontrol the force field which ringed this canyon, perhaps even poweredthe weapons the invaders could turn against any assault.
Ross whirled about, his Foanna cloak in a wide swing. There was onecontrol which he knew. Yes, again the board was the same as the one hewas familiar with. His hand plunged out and down, raking the lever fromone measure point to the very end of the slit in which it moved. Then heplanted himself with his back to the wall. Whoever came up the wellhunting the cause for the failure would be facing the other way. Rosscrouched a little, pushing the cape well back on his shoulders to freehis arms. There was a feline suppleness in his stance just as a junglecat might wait coming of its prey.
What he heard was a shout below, the click of foot-gear on the rungs ofthe level ladder. Ross's lips drew back in a snarl which was alsofeline. He thought that would do it! Spacemen were ultra-sensitive toany failure in air flow.
White head, bare of any hair, thin shoulders a little hunched under theblue-green-lavender stuff of the Baldies' uniforms.... Head turning nowso that the eyes could see the necessary switch. An exclamation from thealien and--
But the Baldy never had a chance to complete that turn, look behind him.Ross sprang and struck with the side of his hand. The hairless headsnapped forward. His hands already hooked in the other's armpits, theTe
rran heaved the alien up and over onto the deck of the control cabin.It was only when he was about to bind his captive that Ross discoveredthe Baldy was dead. A blow calculated to stun the alien had been toosevere. Breathing a little faster, the Terran rolled the body back andhoisted it into the navigator's swing-seat, fastening it with thetake-off belts. One down--how many left?
He had little time to wonder, for before he could reach the well onceagain there was a call from below--sharp and demanding. The Terransearched his victim, but the Baldy was unarmed.
Again a shout. Then silence--too complete a silence. How could they haveguessed trouble so quickly. Unless, unless the Baldies' mentalcommunication had been at work ... they might even now know their fellowwas dead.
But not how he died. Ross was prepared to grant the Baldies super-Terranabilities, but he did not see how they could know what had happenedhere. They could only suspect danger, not know the form it had taken.And sooner or later one of them must come to adjust the switch. Thiscould be a duel of patience.
Ross squatted at the edge of the well, trying to make his ears supplyhim with hints of what might be happening below. Had there been analteration in the volume of vibration? He set his palm flat to the deck,tried to deduce the truth. But he could not be sure. That there had beensome slight change he was certain.
They could not wait much longer without making an attempt to reopen theair-supply regulator, or could they? Again Ross was hampered by lack ofinformation. Perhaps the Baldies did not need the same amount of oxygenhis own kind depended upon. And if that were true, Ross could be thefirst to suffer in playing a waiting game. Well, air was not the onlything he could cut off from here, though it had been the first and mostimportant to his mind. Ross hesitated. Two-edged weapons cut in bothdirections. But he had to force a countermove from them. He pulledanother switch. The control cabin, the whole of the ship, was plungedinto darkness.
No sound from below this time. Ross pictured the interior layout of theships he had known. Two levels down to reach the engine room. Could hedescend undetected? There was only one way to test that--try it.
He pulled the Foanna cloak about him, was several rungs down on theladder when the glow in the walls came on. An emergency switch? With aforward scramble, Ross swung into one of the radiating side corridors.The sliding-door panels along it were all closed; he could detect nosounds behind them. But the vibration in the ship's walls had returnedto its steady beat.
Now the Terran realized the folly of his move. He was more securelytrapped here than he had been in the control cabin. There was only oneway out, up or down the ladder, and the enemy could have that underobservation from below. All they would need to do was to use a flamer ora paralyzing ray such as the one he had turned over to Ashe several daysago.
Ross inched along to the stairwell. A faint pad of movement, a shadow ofsound from the ladder. Someone on the way up. Could they mentally detecthim, know him for an alien intruder by the broadcast of his thoughts?The Baldies had a certain respect for the Foanna and might desire totake one alive. He drew the robe about him, used it to muffle his figurecompletely as the true wearers did.
But the figure pulling painfully up from rung to rung was no Baldy. Thelean Hawaikan arms, the thin Hawaikan face, drawn of feature, painfullyblank of expression--Loketh--under the same dread spell as had held thewarriors in the citadel courtyard. Could the aliens be using thisHawaikan captive as a defense shield, moving up behind him?
Loketh's head turned, those blank eyes regarded Ross. And their depthswere troubled, recognition of a sort returning. The Hawaikan threw upone hand in a beseeching gesture and then went to his knees in thecorridor.
"Great One! Great One!" The words came from his lips in a breathy hissas he groveled. Then his body went flaccid, and he sprawled face down,his twisted leg drawn up as if he would run but could not.
"Foanna!" The one word came out of the walls themselves, or so itseemed.
"Foanna--the wise learn what lies before them when they walk alone inthe dark." The Hawaikan speech was stilted, accented, butunderstandable.
Ross stood motionless. Had they somehow seen him through Loketh's eyes?Or had they been alerted merely by the Hawaikan's call? They believed hewas one of the Foanna. Well, he would play that role.
"Foanna!" Sharper this time, demanding. "You lie in our hand. Let usclasp the fingers tightly and you shall be naught."
Out of somewhere the words Karara had chanted in the Foanna temple cameto Ross--not in her Polynesian tongue but in the English she hadrepeated. And softening his voice to his best approximation of theFoanna singsong Ross sang:
"Ye forty thousand gods, Ye gods of sea, of sky--of stars," he improvised. "Ye elders of the gods that are, Ye gods that once were, Ye that whisper, yet that watch by night, Ye that show your gleaming eyes."
"Foanna!" The summons was on the ragged edge of patience. "Your trickswill not move our mountains!"
"Ye gods of mountains," Ross returned, "of valleys, of Shades and notthe Shadow," he wove in the beliefs of this world, too. "Walk now thisworld, between the stars!" His confidence was growing. And there was nouse in remaining pent in this corridor. He would have to chance thatthey were not prepared to kill summarily one of the Foanna.
Ross went to the well, went down the ladder slowly, keeping his robeabout him. Here at the next level there was a wider space about theopening, and three door panels. Behind one must be those he sought. Hewas buoyed up by a curious belief in himself, almost as if wearing thisrobe did give him in part the power attributed to the Foanna.
He laid his hand on the door to his right and sent it snapping back intoits frame, stepped inside as if he entered here by right.
There were three Baldies. To his Terran eyes they were all superficiallyalike, but the one seated on a control stool had a cold arrogance in hisexpression, a pitiless half smile which made Ross face him squarely. TheTerran longed for one of the Foanna staffs and the ability to use it. Tospray that energy about this cabin might reduce the Baldy defenses tonothing. But now two of the paralyzing tubes were trained on him.
"You have come to us, Foanna, what have you to offer?" demanded thecommander, if that was his rank.
"Offer?" For the first time Ross spoke. "There is no reason for theFoanna to make any offer, slayer of women and children. You have comefrom the stars to take, but that does not mean we choose to give."
He felt it now, that inner pulling, twisting in his mind, the willingwhich was their more subtle weapon. Once they had almost bent him withthat willing because then he had worn their livery, a spacesuit takenfrom the wrecked freighter. Now he did not have that chink in hisdefense. And all that stubborn independence and determination to behimself alone resisted the influence with a fierce inner fire.
"We offer life to you, Foanna, freedom of the stars. These other dirtcreepers are nothing to you, why take you weapons in their cause? Youare not of the same race."
"Nor are you!" Ross's hands moved under the envelope of the robe,unloosing the two hidden clasps which held it. That bank of controlsbefore which the commander sat--to silence that would cause trouble. Andhe depended upon Ynlan. The Rovers should now be massed at either end ofthe canyon waiting for the force field to fail and let them in.
Ross steadied himself, poised for action. "We have something for you,star men--" he tried to hold their attention with words, "have you notheard of the power of the Foanna--that they can command wind and wave?That they can be where they were not in a single movement of the eyelid?And this is so--behold!"
It was the oldest trick in the world, perhaps on any planet. But becauseit was so old maybe it had been forgotten by the aliens. For, as Rosspointed, those heads did turn for an instant.
He was in the air, the robe gathered in his arms wide spread as batwings. And then they crashed in a tangle which bore them all backagainst the controls. Ross strove to enmesh them in the robe, using thepressure of his body to slam them all on the buttons and levers of theboard. Wheth
er that battering would accomplish his purpose, he could nottell. But that he had only these few seconds torn out of time to try, heknew, and determined to use them as best he could.
One of the Baldies had slithered down to the floor and another wasaiming strangely ineffectual blows at him. But the third had wriggledfree to bring up a paralyzer. Ross slewed around, dragging the alien heheld across his body just as the other fired. But though the fighterwent limp and heavy in Ross's hold, the Terran's own right arm fell tohis side, his upper chest was numb, and his head felt as if one of theRover's boarding axes had clipped it. Ross reeled back and fell, hisleft hand raking down the controls as he went. Then he lay on the cabinfloor and saw the convulsed face of the commander above him, a paralyzeraiming at his middle.
To breathe was an effort Ross found torture to endure. The red haze inhis head filled all the world. Pain--he strove to flee the pain but washeld captive in it. And always the pressure on him kept that agonysteady.
"Let ... be...." He wanted to scream that. Perhaps he had, but thepressure continued. Then he forced his eyes open. Ashe--Ashe and one ofthe Foanna bending over him, Ashe's hands on his chest, pressing,relaxing, pressing again.
"It is good--" He knew Ynvalda's voice. Her hand rested lightly on hisforehead and from that touch Ross drew again the quickening of body andspirit he had felt on the dancing floor.
"How--?" He began and then changed to--"Where--?" For this was not theengine room of the spacer. He lay in the open, with sweet, rain-wet windfilling his starved lungs now without Ashe's force aid.
"It is over," Ashe told him, "all over--for now."
But not until the sun reached the canyon hours later and they sat incouncil, did Ross learn all the tale. Just as he had made his own planfor reaching the spacer, so had Ashe, Karara, and the dolphins worked ona similar attempt. The river running deep in those mountain gorges hadprovided a road for the dolphins and they found beneath its surface anentrance past the force barrier.
"The Baldies were so sure of their superiority on this primitive worldthey set no guards save that field," Ashe explained. "We slipped throughfive swimmers to reach the ship. And then the field went down, thanks toyou."
"So I did help--that much." Ross grinned wryly. What had he proven byhis sortie? Nothing much. But he was not sorry he had made it. For thevery fact he had done it on his own had eased in part that small achewhich was in him now when he looked at Ashe and remembered how it hadonce been. Ashe might be--always would be--his friend, but the oldtight-locking comradeship of the Project was behind them, vanished likethe time gate.
"And what will you do with them?" Ross nodded toward the captives, thethree from the ship, two more taken from the small scouting globe whichhad homed to find their enemies ready for them.
"We wait," Ynvalda said, "for those on the Rover ship to be broughthither. By our laws they deserve death."
The Rovers at that council nodded vigorously, all save Torgul and Jazia.The Rover woman spoke first.
"They bear the Curse of Phutka heavy on them. To live under such a curseis worse than a clean, quick dying. Listen, it has come upon me thatbetter this curse not only eat them up but be carried by them to rotthose who sent them--"
Together the Foanna nodded. "There has been enough of killing," saidYnlan. "No, warriors, we do not say this because we shrink from rightfuldeaths. But Jazia speaks the truth in this matter. Let these depart.Perhaps they will bear that with them which will convince their leadersthat this is not a world they may squeeze in their hands as one crushesa ripe quaya to eat its seeds. You believe in your cursing, Rovers, thenlet the fruit of it be made plain beyond the stars!"
Was this the time to speak of the switched tapes, Ross wondered. No, hedid not really believe that the Rover curse or their treatment of thecaptives would, either one, influence the star leaders. But, if theinvaders did not return to their base, their vanishing might also workto keep another expedition from invading Hawaikan skies. Leave it tochance, a curse, and time....
So it was decided.
"Have we won?" Ross asked Ashe later.
"Do you mean, have we changed the future? Who can answer that? They mayreturn in force, this may have been a step which was taken before. Thosepylons may still stand in the future above a deserted sea and island. Weshall probably never know."
That was also their own truth. For them also there had been asubstitution of journey tapes by Fate, and this was now their Hawaika.Ross Murdock, Gordon Ashe, Karara Trehern, Tino-rau, Taua--five Terransforever lost in time--in the past with a dubious future. Would this bethe barren, lotus world, or another now? Yes, no--either. They had foundtheir key to the mystery out of time, but they could not turn it, andthere was no key to the gate which had ceased to exist. Grasp tight thepresent. Ross looked about him. Yes, the present, which might be verysatisfying after all....
* * * * *
SCIENCE FICTION by ANDRE NORTON
THE DEFIANT ANGENTS
Operation Cochise: a carefully planned Western move to colonize a planetahead of the Reds. Travis Fox had been an eager volunteer, but themorning he dragged himself half-conscious from the wrecked spaceship onthe planet Topaz, he sensed the terror which would threaten the project.Travis never learned why the ship had crashed, nor why he and the otherApache agents had been shot into space without warning and under Redaxcontrol, a machine which had returned them to ancestral mentality.
But the dangers on Topaz demanded free minds, for Travis soon realizedthat if the Reds already encamped beyond the mountains--a horde ofbarbaric Mongols completely dominated by their masters--discovered thesecret of the eerie underground chamber in the towers hidden in a valleyof mists, not only Topaz but Terra itself would be destroyed.
Andre Norton's ability to grip the reader and transport him to otherworlds in space and time is well known. In this fast-paced adventure inwhich the struggle for domination of men's minds ranges from control oftheir prehistoric memories to the risk of unleashing a horror nevermeant for the hands of men, the author again proves to be "a superbstoryteller whose skill draws the reader completely into a fantasticother-world," (_Chicago Tribune_). A companion book to _GalacticDerelict_.
STORM OVER WARLOCK
"Fleeing from Throg invaders, Shann Lantee and Ragnar Thorvald enter theworld of beautiful women. Immensely powerful as they are lovely, thesewitches control men by thought domination. Shann's victory over thebeetle-like Throg and his civilized alliance with the women is toldhere with that sweep of imagination and brilliance of detail whichrender Andre Norton a primary talent among writers of sciencefiction."--_Virginia Kirkus_ (starred).
GALACTIC DERELICT
"Andre Norton has no peer in his chosen field of science fiction forteen-agers. This time his story involves an expedition in both time andspace, as some young scientists ... set forth on a journey to repossessa lost spaceship."--_Virginia Kirkus_ (starred).
THE TIME TRADERS
"Effectively utilizing the concept of time travel, the author ... haswritten another imaginative, action-filled science fiction story forteenage boys. Young Ross Murdock ... is sent back into the Bronze Age,discovers a derelict galactic ship, and finds himself fighting ... togain control of the secrets of space flight."--ALA _Booklist_.
STAR BORN
Young Dalgard Nordis of the planet Astra and his merman companion Sssurijoin forces with a space man from Terra to outwit resurgent nonhumanAliens. A sequel to _The Stars Are Ours!_
THE STARS ARE OURS!
To escape the tyranny on Terra in the year 2500, a group of scientistsmake a last-minute getaway under fire and take off for another planet inanother solar system. Their adventures make top-flight entertainment forall science-fiction fans.
SPACE PIONEERS
_Edited With an Introduction and Notes by Andre Norton_
Outstanding stories by some of the finest writers in the science-fictiongenre that present a startling glimpse into the future of space travel,artificial satel
lites, and colonization.
REBEL SPURS
THE DEFIANT AGENTS
RIDE PROUD, REBEL!
THE TIME TRADERS
YANKEE PRIVATEER
SPACE SERVICE _Edited by Andre Norton_
