Complete Fiction (Jerry eBooks)

by Everett B. Cole

  “Good enough.” Dale was satisfied. “Let’s catch a cat nap till daybreak.”

  They settled to earth, seeking out a nearby thicket to make temporary camp. As the other two settled for sleep, Dale called Owens, giving him a report to relay to Group.

  As Owens leaned back after sending off his report, Security Technician Miller looked at him questioningly.

  “Look, Sarge. It may sound like a fool question, but suppose those people weren’t humanoid. How would we make contact?”

  Owens turned. “Simple,” he shrugged. “This team wouldn’t. Just before you joined us, we were at point and had to call in Team Four to take over, ’cause we’d hit a bunch of Saurians. You see, the teams are made up of all the known types of intelligent life. Since this is a humanoid world, we’d have to handle contact regardless of who spotted the degrader focus.”

  Miller nodded thoughtfully. “I see,” he commented. “But how about the degraders themselves?” Will they necessarily be humanoid?”

  “Definitely not.” Owens shook his head emphatically. “They may be a mixture of anything in the galaxy. Last bunch we pulled in were of six different types. A Cheroid from Arc-turns Eighteen was running the gang. He had some humanoids—terrans, at that—a few Saurians from Aldebaran Ten, an Apian and a flock of Centaurs. We may run into any form of life in the book here, but the natives are humanoid, so the rest of Group won’t show themselves. It’s our baby.”

  “Thanks,” commented Miller. “They put me on orders out of Patrol so fast I haven’t caught my breath yet. I’m having to learn this Philo business by ear.”

  “You’ll get it,” Owens assured him. “Lots of us came in with no warning, especially since Philo started expanding under this new setup. Come to think of it, Mr. Dale started in Philo as a replacement Security Tech.”

  “Him?” Miller was startled. “I thought he was a degree man.”

  Daws raised himself on one elbow. “Hah!” he snorted. “Warrant Philosophers with degrees just don’t happen. Good grief, with this new Corps project, a degree man with Mr. Dale’s ability and training would be a major at least. Nope, the chief was a recruit during the Osirian row, and hit every grade in between.”

  “Most of ’em in Criminal Apprehension,” put in Owens. “Now, he’s just about due for a commission. We’ll see him in command of a group before long.”

  “Then who takes over this team?” Daws was curious.

  Bowman spoke from the cave entrance. “Wells and Isaacs are both up for warrant. Could be either of them.”

  “Doubt it.” Owens was skeptical. “They’ll both probably transfer, and we’ll get a chief from some place else.”

  “How about you, Sarge?” queried Miller. “I don’t want to be nosey, but I’d like to know how the chances are for promotion.”

  “Well, I’m up for Master,” Owens told him. “Think I passed the exams O.K. Since the Corps took over its own investigation and apprehension, the ratings are wide open. Right now, there’s just about no limit if a guy knows his stuff and does it.” Bowman broke into the conversation again. “Hey,” he called suddenly, “their ship’s coining back in.”

  “Get an azimuth and altitude quick!” yelled Owens. He spun around to the communicator controls, grabbing his microphone as he turned. “Brother,”: he breathed, “bet this is their base for sure. Daws, you get the chief on the portable. I’m going to call Group.”

  “What a break!” exulted Daws as he seized his mike. “Three calling chief, Three calling—”

  Dale snapped to sudden wakefulness. He quickly answered Daws’ call, then listened-to. the report.

  “Good,” he snapped, out. “Group can take them out next time they lift. Meanwhile, tell them we’ll go in soon as possible and start cleaning up when the ship leaves.”

  He awakened Wells and Isaacs. Since the clean-up was to be started soon, new plans would have to be made. Scouting didn’t seem as important now as positive action. The three men would have to insinuate themselves into the city with very little delay. Checks would have to be made to locate any remaining degraders if such existed. The criminal operations undoubtedly present in the civil government would have to be corrected. The degrader form of religion would have to be eliminated. Then there were other things to be considered.

  As they talked, the sun rose. Sweeping darkness before it, the star glared down—huge, brilliant, dominating. Sharp, harsh shadows and blinding reflections replaced the vagueness of the night. This was a young world—satellite to a young, active star. Quite conceivably, thought Dale, this was its first civilization. Equally conceivably, this new civilization might survive—might grow and mature in a normal maimer and emerge, triumphantly successful at the first attempt, rather than coming to a dead, sterile end, as many civilizations, blighted by premature, unlawful contact with more advanced peoples, had done.

  The three guardsmen walked out of their concealing thicket, heading toward the refugee camp. Despite the speeded up program, Dale felt that these men might have their uses. In fact, if the idea in the back of. his head materialized, they would be invaluable. Besides, Corps regulations forbade broken promises to primitives. This contact was necessary in any event.

  As they approached the forest, a voice cried out a challenge. Dale stopped, raising his hands, palms outward. The voice said more, ending on a questioning note. Dale turned.

  “Language sound familiar?” he queried. “He wants to know who we are and where we came from.”

  “Sounds a little like primitive Osirian, sir,” replied Wells, who hadn’t put on his mentacom. “We shouldn’t have too much trouble with it if we want to learn vocally.”

  A man stepped from the trees, bow leveled.

  “Who are you and where do you come from?” he repeated.

  “We are three strangers from a far country,” replied Dale. “Last night two of your number had word concerning us.”

  “You are unarmed.” It was a statement, rather than a question.

  Dale smiled. “We have no bows or swords,” he evaded.

  The man seemed satisfied. “Come,” he instructed them, gesturing toward the wood with his bow. “Lanko, our leader, wants to speak with you.”

  The three walked into the wood ahead of the sentry, coming to the bandit camp site. The nine escaped slaves, seated about on the ground, eyed them as they approached. One arose.

  “I am Lanko,” he announced. “Are you the three strangers Musa and Dano told us of?”

  “We are.” Dale stepped forward.

  “Musa and Dano were contacted last night by us.”

  “How?”

  “By instruments we use for talking at a distance. We have certain tools that are strange to you.”

  One of the men in the group seized his bow. “I don’t think we should trust these three, Lanko,” he growled. “How do we know they aren’t spies from the priests of Atakar?”

  Dale laughed. “Do you think the priests of Atakar would trouble to send spies to you?” He shook his head. “No. They would merely send soldiers to bring you back to captivity.”

  The man was unconvinced. “I still say shoot first and ask questions later,” he told the leader.

  Dale spread his hands. “You can do that easily enough,” he acknowledged, “but it would do little good. If the ones in Atakar know your whereabouts, shooting us would avail you nothing. If they don’t, it should be obvious that we have told them nothing of your presence, and are unlikely to be spies of theirs.”

  The leader nodded. “Enough, Dasnor. This man speaks truth, and we can certainly use any help we may get.” He gestured. “Be seated, strangers, and tell us why you come.”

  Another of the group, who had been sitting with a puzzled expression, suddenly spoke. “How is it,” he inquired, “that you speak my native language well, and yet my companions, who speak no Jogurthian, understand you?”

  The leader turned to him. “He was speaking plainly in Karthanese,” he stated.

  “No,” pers
isted the other, “I heard him as plainly as you, and the language he was using was Jogurthian.”

  Dale held up his hands. “You are both right,” he told them, “and both wrong. I was speaking no language either of you ever heard, but we have a tool which allows us to speak to all men in their native tongues.” He paused, then continued. “We three have come to you, both to give and to receive help. From our own country have come thieves. Dangerous beings, who have gone among the priests, and into the temple of Atakar, and who have corrupted the people. It is our duty to take these thieves and to undo the damage they have caused. In this, you can help us. By our efforts, we can give you a free land to live in. In that, we can help you.”

  The men sat up. Lanko’s face clouded. “How can a handful of fugitives and three unarmed strangers overcome the night of Atakar?” he demanded.

  “We have companions who will deal with the might of Atakar,” Dale told him. “Our duty is to work from within the city. You know the customs of this world, and can help us in this.”

  Lanko stroked his short beard. “It is possible that we could enter the city as traders,” he mused. “Never before, have we dared enter Atakar itself, but always we have gone to another city.” He looked toward the pile of goods. “It is almost time for us to trade somewhere; though, and—maybe this is the Way to end this thievish existence Of ours arid become free men once more.” He held out his hands. “Stranger, if you can prove your words, we will work with you.”

  “Very well.” Dale stood again. “We have many things to talk about.”

  The three guardsmen rapidly explained the Universal Federation to their prospective recruits. At first, incredulous that the points of light in the sky might contain worlds as great and even greater than their own, the ten gradually came to realize the scope of the Galaxy. Their crude and degrader-distorted philosophy was replaced by positive knowledge of the many civilized worlds in space. Memory pictures projected by the three with the aid of the hypnotizer ray gave them actual views of advanced civilization, and of degrader damage on Other worlds. Swiftly, though with care that mental damage did not result, they were given a frill view of galactic civilization.

  Finally, came the last stage of their indoctrination. The shadows were growing long, arid darkness was slowly settling over the hills when Dale stretched arid faced the men.

  “Now, gentlemen,” he said, “you all know who we are, and why we are here. You know many things that very few, and possibly none of the people of your planet will know for thousands of years. Those of you who are still listening also know that many of your people are incapable of receiving this knowledge without suffering mental damage. Further, you know the peculiar terms of service the Stellar Guard imposes. You know, for example, that no guardsman can associate with any but other guardsmen while on a primitive or undeveloped planet. During your time on this world, you will have no close friends—no wife—no children. You will have to observe a good many other stringent regulations. It is a hard life, but a satisfying one, and after retirement, the reward is high.” Fie paused.

  “So,” he continued, “we come to the parting of the ways. Those of you who wish to take service as Stellar Guard recruits are more than welcome to do so now. Those of you who do not wish to take such service, have that choice. Those of you who do not wish to take service, all memory of this day and of your comrades who have enrolled in the Guard will be taken from you by the same instruments that gave you this new knowledge. For this memory will be substituted the memory of a normal escape from the region of Atakar. You will be returned to your former homes together with those five who were not strong enough mentally to accept the information we had to give. From that time, you and they will be free to live normal lives.

  Please think this over well.” He sat down.

  Lanko sat thinking for a minute. Finally, he lifted his head. “Three years ago,” he said, “I was counted a rich man. I had flocks and herds, with many men to watch them. Then, I was happy with my life. One day, the slave raiders came.” He shook his head. “That should never happen again on this world. By this time, my flocks are scattered anyway, and this is opportunity. I can’t speak for the others, but I will take the oath gladly.”

  Another man shook his head. “I’m not so sure,” he remarked. “I was never rich, but I had a good life. I have my trade at which I am skilled.” He stopped, then continued. “Then, too, there was a woman. She may be gone, but there are others.” Again, he stopped, collecting his thoughts. “Thirty years,” he continued, “is a long time to serve in loneliness. T would rather turn back to the old life with these other five.” He gestured to the five men who had been placed in hypnotic sleep to prevent injury to their minds during the indoctrination process.

  Dale nodded. “We will return you to your home,” he stated.

  At length, the decisions were made. Lanko and Banasel, the Jogurthian, decided to take the oath and enter service with the Guard. Tire other three of the acceptable men declined for their own reasons. A call from Dale to base brought the rest of the team, and after suitable treatment with the hypnotizer ray, the eight men were delivered to their respective homes under the care of Bowman and Daws.

  As the tiny flier lifted, Lanko turned to Dale. “I hate to see them go,” he said, “They were good companions.”

  Dale placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. “You can never again share their lives,” he told him, “but there is nothing to prevent you from guarding them from harm, and helping them to prosper.”

  During the days that followed, educator tapes and hypnotizer rays were utilized to their fullest extent, and the camp, now moved underground, became a schoolroom.

  A patrol of Atakaran soldiery was repulsed from, the area, with positive memories of. a bitter struggle with a bandit group who had to be slaughtered to the last man. Returning, they regaled their comrades in the barrack and in the wine shops with tales of the day-long battle with ten of the toughest bandits ever encountered. Finally, it got beyond the point of endurance, and members of that particular patrol found themselves in uncontested possession of any room or wine shop they happened to enter. So, the incident was forgotten.

  At last, Dale was satisfied. His two recruits were well grounded in the advanced science and techniques of the Philosophical Corps. Wells and Isaacs had slipped into the city, choosing a time when the degrader ship was away, and using the light refractive qualities of their shields to evade the guards. Group had called, informing them that the degrader ship had been intercepted well out of sight of the city, and captured. Now, the team was ready to commence its clean-up operations within the city. Once more, the men donned native clothing.

  The goods and animals were formed into a small caravan, which made its slow way toward Atakar. Entering the city, they made their way to the merchants’ quarter, where they joined Wells and Isaacs at a small caravansery.

  The following day, Wells and Lanko slipped out to the street, making their way to the temple. As they gained the street, Lanko dodged back to avoid a denkem, the illtempered beast of burden. The driver made a surly remark as the beast, missing Lanko, attempted to take a bite out of Wells’ shoulder. As the animal swaggered past, Wells smiled.

  “That is one of the minor advantages we have, Lanko,” he remarked. “Our body shields, remember?”

  “I forgot, sergeant,” admitted Lanko.

  “Don’t,” cautioned Wells. “The best possible weapon you can have is a reputation for complete fearlessness. People will follow a fearless man, even though they don’t fully agree with his philosophy.”

  As they, approached the temple, the streets widened slightly, Crowds idled before the shops. Traders from the far places of the planet rubbed shoulders with officers and soldiers of the Imperial armies. Cries of vendors mingled with the sound of bargaining. Artisans slipped through the streets, bound on their own missions. An occasional cry of “Make way!” heralded the approach of a gayly decorated noble’s chariot. The two men slipped through the cr
owd, and mounted the steps of the temple of Senemanos, the degrader.

  Both of them knew that somewhere in this huge temple, a band of degraders lurked. Desperate beings of many differing races, these degraders had one thing in common: They were unalterably opposed to orderly civilization. Their law of living was summed up in the statement, “What I want, I take.” To their criminal minds, the psychiatric treatment awaiting them at Aldeharan Base was equivalent to a horrifying death. To them, the idea of becoming normal citizens of their various worlds was thoroughly repugnant, and they would fight to the last to prevent such a terrible thing from happening to them. However, the capture or elimination of these beings was absolutely essential to the health of the planet, and these two guardsmen intended to draw them from their concealment as soon as possible.

  As the two men reached the top step of the temple, Wells stepped aside, speaking into his tiny microphone. “This is Wells,” he announced softly. “We are at station.”

  Quickly, Lanko raised his mentacom to full power. “O, sinful men of Atakar, hear me!” he cried, stretching his arms wide. “I come among you to call you back to the paths of right—”

  As he talked, Wells slid back into the shadowed columns of the temple, watching for anyone who might come from the interior. Once, to the left, he saw Isaacs sliding from column to column. Suddenly, a rain of stones struck the temple steps. Wells glanced hack. Lanko was standing, arms folded, head up. Stones were bounding from his body shield. A slight smile played about his lips. Dale’s voice came over the communicator.

  “How’re you doing, Lanko?”

  “More fun than a jewel caravan,” came the low-toned answer.

  “Good man,” applauded Isaacs. Lanko stretched out his arms again. “Cease your play, O foolish ones,” he roared. “Do you imagine your puny stones can harm the messenger of the Great One, when your false gods cower in fear behind me?”

  “Oh, brother,” came Miller’s voice, “that should draw lire.”

  From the temple entrance, stepped a huge figure, dragging a mobile blaster. The capriform, Senemanos, had decided to come out fighting. As he lifted the projector, he was caught in the beams of nine paralyzer rays. His shield glowed redly, then rapidly ran up the spectrum as it overloaded. The giant figure slumped to the stones.