Alien Minds

by Evans, E. Everett

  CHAPTER 6

  IT WAS NEARING DAWN ON THE EASTERN Continent of Estrella, and high above in the stratosphere, in its spaceship, the strange being that had been studying this planet so carefully, suddenly stiffened to closer attention. Its mind had just contacted a group of beings below whose minds were of a far different texture—finer, somehow than those of the natives of this world. The language was different, too, which did not make so much difference. But the thought-processes of these newcomers, in many cases, were almost incomprehensible to the alien.

  What were they? Was there more than one race here on this planet, after all! The being activated its multiphased scanners, and studied and pondered.

  SSM George Hanlon was waiting in the shadows of the great forest enclosing the hidden clearing when the spacer came in. When it had landed, the lock-door opened. Hanlon ran over and, after giving the correct password, was helped inside the ship.

  "Hi, fellows," he greeted the two secret servicemen who were assigned as crew of this ship, and went with them into the control room. "How's everything in the great big universe outside of this dump?"

  "Not bad," they grinned. "Nothing special going on. Mars just won the interplanet baseball championship . . ."

  " . . . and there's a new singer on stereo that's a doll, boy, a doll . . . "

  " . . . We saw Hoop and Manny at our stop on the other side, and they said the admiral was coming here. We got some letters for him, but you'd better take 'em in case he doesn't show before we have to leave."

  "Oke, will do. Hey, you fellows got any candy bars? Can't get sweets here, and I'm sugar starved."

  "Sure, plenty." And while one of the men went to the storeroom, the other asked Hanlon if he would like a cup of coffee.

  "Gee, I sure would. That's another thing these folks don't have. That herb tea of theirs . . . ugh !"

  The first returned with a dozen candy bars that Hanlon stuffed in his pocket, and continued drinking his coffee.

  "Oh, yes, better give me some Estrellan money. I've had to spend quite a bit recently. About five hundred credit's worth should be enough." They gave him that from a supply in a drawer.

  "Now for the most important thing," Hanlon said. "Next trip I want you to bring me a cat—a nice black . . "A cat?" It was a duet of surprise.

  "Yeh, a nice, tame, house-broken Earth cat. All black, or maybe with a white star in its forehead. About a year old, and quite large. Be sure it has nice, sleek fur."

  "Can do, all right," doubtfully, "but for John's sake, why?"

  "One of the men I'm working on here loves pets and collects all the different kinds he can get. So I want to give him something he doesn't have. All the animals here are tailless, so get me one with a really nice, long, well-furred tail. A thorough-bred, not an alley-cat. I figure it will help me get in good with him."

  "Right." One of them made a note. "Anything else?" "Not a thing, thanks. 'Specially for the coffee and candy. Wonder when da . . . the admiral will get here?" He hoped they had not noticed that near-slip, for it had been decided the relationship should not be generally told, and so far only a few SS men and high officials knew of it.

  "Haven't the faintest."

  "Then I guess I'll stick around awhile and see, if you don't mind."

  "Glad to have you aboard, mister. We have to stay here several hours anyway, and we like company. Getting sick of old Tom's ugly face anyway," one of them quipped.

  "Yeh, I 'spose you think you're a beauty queen."

  "You play poker?"

  "Lead me to it."

  Though Hanlon carefully avoided using his special mental abilities, when Admiral Newton came aboard an hour or so later, the young Corpsman was a few credits ahead. The cards had just fallen right for him.

  After the two secret servicemen had left the cruiser and it had blasted off, they started back toward town. Hanlon had very much wanted to see his father, for he had been vaguely disturbed and dissatisfied with his rate of progress. True, he was making a good start at getting where he wanted to go, but it seemed to him he was taking far too much time for what little he had accomplished. He said as much to his father.

  "Well, I don't know," the admiral said thoughtfully, as they rode along the flowertree-shaded but dusty road. "These things take time, and it seems to me you haven't done so badly, considering the short time you've been here."

  "Thanks for being generous, but I seem to be taking so long for next to nothing."

  "What do you plan to do now?" Newton asked, and Hanlon explained more in detail what he was after.

  "What makes you so sure this fellow Yandor leads to the higher ups?" the admiral asked slowly at last.

  "All the clues I've managed to pick up so far point to him as a key figure," Hanlon said earnestly. "I've read in a number of minds facts—or snatches—that point to him as one of the leaders, despite his reputable position as the leading theatrical entrepreneur . . . "

  "Or because of it," his father interjected.

  "Yes, perhaps because of it. When Auldin introduced us and I hinted at my knowledge of his 'other activities'—and when I've mentioned them since—Yandor didn't react as I'm sure he would if he wasn't engaged in something off-color."

  "Hmmm, it all sounds reasonable. And as far as the time it is taking you is concerned, you needn't worry yet. It always takes time to open up a line of investigation. You took three months or more off to go to Algon, remember, but you got the answers finally."

  They had arrived at the house where Hanlon lived so they parked their trikes in the back yard, and went up to his room.

  "Yes, what you say is true," Hanlon seemed more relieved now. "What have you and the others found out?"

  His father's short laugh was not a pleased one. "Hardly a thing worth mentioning. We don't even have any leads that may be successful, as you have. Manning has been working as a clerk in a government office, but can't find a thing. Hooper is in Lumina, the secondary capital where the study and suggestion body holds forth . . .".

  Hanlon's mind remembered from the reels that this body was not exactly a legislature or congress, since it had no power to make laws. It studied all questions and problems that came up, and reported or made suggestions to the Ruler, who had the final say. It was something fairly recent, introduced by Elus Amir.

  ". . . and managed to get a job on an Estrellan equivalent of a newspaper there. But he hasn't found a thing, either, except that he's been in a position to learn where the propaganda is strongest, and is keeping charts and graphs, with dates and percentages, of its spread. But so far they haven't shown anything conclusive, except that the rumors are spreading rapidly, and that lately they have included the whispers that Terrans are back of the crime wave."

  "Yeh, I've heard that. Obviously a 'whisper campaign' started by the real conspirators. But what're you doing, dad?"

  "Mostly I'm just traveling here and there, keeping as quiet and undercover as possible, trying to find out what people all over the planet are really thinking. The percentage who believe the propaganda seems very small, but is growing. About the only thing I've found out at all curious or extraordinary is that Adwal Irad, the Second-In-Line seems to have a much greater than ordinary place in the counsel and affections of Amir, the Ruler."

  Hanlon laughed. "That 'Second-In-Line' business is screwy, isn't it?"

  The admiral sat back in his chair, lighted a cigarro, and grew thoughtful. "Yes, from our standpoint it is most peculiar, and one of the things that make it so hard for us to understand the Estrellans at all well. How it is done I haven't been able to find out, but the men of the ruling class are specially bred—reminds me of the way queen bees are developed. They are larger physically, less hairy, and far more brainy than the average males here. However, it seems to sap their strength to handle the job, for while the -new ruler takes over at the age of thirty, at the end of his fifteen-year term of office he is an old man—yet the average Estrellan life-expectancy is ninety." He shook his head.

  "
Sure is alien all right," the younger SS man furrowed his brow in concentration. "Never heard of anything like it before." He was silent a moment, then looked up. "But what about Irad that's different—I should think the rulers would want their successors to learn as much as possible about the job before they took over."

  "I gather they do, but usually in a perfunctory sort of way. However, ever since he came back to Estrella—Irad was one of the natives who went on that personally-conducted tour of the Federation—he has been with the ruler almost every day. It is said the old man treats him more like a son than a successor; they seem, from reports, to be closer even than Amir and his own son."

  "Aren't the two related?"

  'Not that closely. I believe Irad is a sort of second-cousin's son. There's an examination among each generation of ruler-possibilities, and the high man is designated 'Second-In-Line', and so on down."

  "What d'you 'spose it all means?"

  "Have no data yet. It could be something—or nothing." "I'll keep Irad in mind, then, and watch fora place to fit him in. Oh, by the way, how long before he takes over?"

  "About two years, I think. Why?"

  "Just thought that might be important. I'll hunt around and find out." Hanlon paused a moment, then continued slowly, "but the more you tell me of what you and the boys have not found out, the more certain I am that my way is best—for me, at least—and that I can get some dope through the gangs here."

  "I'm willing to buy that now. I'll grant that whoever is back of all this opposition may be, and probably is, using the criminals, and you may get the first leads, at that. In fact, you already have more than we have. But I think we'll find—if we ever learn—that someone far above their level is the prime operator."

  "You think there's a possibility it might be some alien—like Bohr was on Simonides?"

  His father sat upright and looked at him penetratingly. "I hadn't thought of that." Then he slumped down again. "But I wouldn't say so. It would really be stretching coincidence 'way out of shape for it to be the same sort of set-up you found there. You haven't found anything to make you think that, have you?"

  "No, I don't really suspect anything of the sort—just can't forget how surprised we were back there when we found out about Bohr."

  "Well, we'll just have to keep on plugging. The campaign is so obvious—so open with all its use of pamphlets, spreaders of rumor, and the same arguments everywhere . . . it seems we certainly ought to find some leads somewhere. But . . . ", he shrugged helplessly.

  "There's certainly a clever propagandist in the background somewhere. And he sure keeps well hidden."

  The elder made a pained grimace. "You can say that again."

  "Say, I've got an idea. How about having Hooper or Manning, or bring in still another SS man, to come here and let me brief him on what I've found out about two or three other natives who seem to be up in the gang world? I've got leads on some others who are apparently lesser gang bosses, but I haven't time to follow them up and keep on with my other lines of investigation, even though I think they're important enough to study. Having someone else here to work on them would get rid of a lot of the criminal activity, I'm sure, and would leave me more free to work on Yandor and his superiors. This Yandor is fond of pets, and the sneakboat's bringing me a cat next trip, and through its mind and eyes and ears I can watch him when he's at home, and so on."

  His father stared at him in surprise. “A cat . . .?”

  Then he shook his head with a helpless movement, but grinned feebly. "You continually amaze me, Spence. I hope it works out."

  "Oh, I'm sure it will. Yandor makes a hobby of animals, and anything as strange and wonderful—to Estrellans—as a tailed cat he'll undoubtedly keep with him most of the time. Especially after I impress on tabby's mind that it is to love Yandor wholeheartedly, and be very distressed when away from him." He grinned wolfishly.

  "Sounds good if you can work it, and I am sure you can. As to the other . . . ", he thought in silence for several minutes, then, "I'll have Manning come here and go to work with you. Being a government clerk, he could pretend he wants to get into local politics, and it'll all seem natural to the natives."

  "Fine. One of the locals I suspect is a sort of political boss. I'll brief Morrie on all I know, and suggest some things he can look into to start with."

  "And Hooper and I will check more closely into the gangs over on the Eastern Continent," the admiral said. Then he leaned forward earnestly. "We've got to solve this. At first it was merely asking a new world with a high civilization to join us for mutual benefits. But now that this opposition has grown so strong, if we fail here we'll have that much more trouble with other non-Terran worlds we discover. You know Colonial has dozens of survey ships out all the time, and since they cracked that new-type drive of Bohr's, and increased our speed nearly 300%, those exploring trips go both farther and faster."

  "We'll get 'em, dad," and Hanlon got up as his father rose.

  Admiral Newton was still not too optimistic. "I certainly hope so. Well, keep trying, son, and don't get into any more trouble than's necessary."

  "I won't, dad. Safe flights," and the admiral left.

  After his father had gone, Hanlon sat thinking seriously, and trying to make plans. The roches, which he had kept asleep while he and his father were talking, he awakened and fed, then romped with them for a time.

  But Hanlon was not really in the mood for play, even though he had come to feel a great affection for these fine animals, and they for him. He had too much on his mind for such recreation just now.

  One thing, he suddenly realized—the roches had brought it to his mind—he had been forgetting. That was the series of burnings and wreckings that Auldin and his men were continuing nightly. Despite his notes to the local peacekeepers, Hanlon knew they had done nothing to stop these depredations, and it made him angry.

  "What sort of dopes are those peacers, anyway?" he growled to himself. "Are they in on all this, too? They must be. And yet, I must remember they've never run up against anything like this before and probably haven't sense enough to figure out what to do. So, it's time I did something about it. But how? Should I try the same thing, or something else?"

  He slept most of the day, making up for his wakefulness of the previous night. When he awoke he considered his problem. Due to the fact that he would probably be working his roches in public in a few days, and in a way he believed Estrellans had never seen them drilled or trained before, he was afraid that if he sent another note by means of a rock, as he had done before, someone in authority might be clever enough to put two and two together and not get five. So he decided to use an ordinary messenger.

  After dinner Hanlon went again to the little cafe that Auldin and his men patronized, but this time he did not go in. Having been in touch with Auldin's mind so many times, he now knew its texture and individual characteristics well. So when the mobster and his men went into the cafe, Hanlon not only knew it but had no trouble "hearing" Auldin give his crew their assignments for that night's dirty work.

  He had again prepared a note for the peace officers, and now he added the new addresses to it. Then he went down the street until he found an Estrellan boy, to whom he gave the note, directions and a coin. The boy ran to the peace station and gave the paper to the official there.

  "We are giving you one last chance to serve the taxpayers and citizens who support you," the note said. "You paid ·no attention to the previous warnings, but we are giving you the benefit of the doubt. We believe you simply did not know how to handle such a situation. It is simple—send a number of men to each of the places listed below, and have them hide and watch. Then, when they see the criminals come to start their nefarious work, have them run out and arrest the men, and bring them back to your station. There they can be held for trial, by the Ruler or someone he appoints. Now get busy, or else . . .".

  "Where did you get this?" the official asked the boy after reading the note.

  "Some
man gave it to me on the street, and gave me a silver penta to bring it to you," the youth answered, then ran out before he could be questioned further.

  Three of the gangsters were arrested that night, but somehow—either through his own shrewdness or through someone's blundering—Auldin escaped.

  In the spaceship the strange being knew a feeling of profound disquiet. It had followed the two of those strange minds that flew the space-cruiser to its second landing place on this world. It had known when these beings met one and then another additional one of these unknowns who were not like the natives of this world. From the fact that the first two came in a spaceship—which these natives did not possess—the deduction was simple that they were all from some other and unknown—to it—planetary system.

  But one of these newest minds could not be touched at all! The scanning intellect knew only that such a mentality was there because the first two (and later, a third) were so evidently holding a long conversation with someone . . . and in its multiphased scanner the being could see that that someone was apparently an Estrellan native.

  Why, then, could not its mind be touched!

  In its scanner the two were followed as they returned to the city and to a dwelling place, and one side of their conversation was "listened to." They were clearly, the mind was forced to conclude, a menace to its carefully-laid plans.

  But why could that one mind not be read!

  CHAPTER 7

  IN THE MORNING, ALTHOUGH STILL FUMING about Auldin's escape, Hanlon had to put it out of his mind as he prepared for the try-out of his act before Yandor.

  The new and gaudy uniforms had been delivered and the roches had grown used to wearing them. Now Hanlon dressed himself and the animals and left the house. They marched down the street toward the downtown section where Yandor's office was located.

  Naturally, the procession attracted considerable attention, for Hanlon made the roches follow him sometimes in single file, then close up to double file. They always kept evenly spaced, all in perfectly cadenced step. He, himself, strutted in a sort of drum-major's fashion, for he considered all this excellent advertising.