Alien Minds

by Evans, E. Everett

  "Pack your things and get out," the head groom said harshly. "I've seen the Ruler, told him about your disgraceful act of being drunk on duty, and have his permission to discharge you. He was very disappointed in you, he said."

  Beneath his harshness Hanlon could easily detect the man's fierce satisfaction at having thus rid himself of a potential (as he thought) competitor. From his reading of the other's mind, Hanlon knew that Endar had not talked this over with the Ruler, and was doing it on his own. But the young SS man did not dare reveal his knowledge of that fact at this moment.

  So he made himself say plaintively, "But I wasn't drunk. I felt one of my fainting spells coming on, and ran into the tackroom to lie down while it was on me."

  "A trumped-up excuse, which doesn't help," Endar sneered. "Even if it was true, which I know it isn't, we don't want such people working here. So get out—and fast." He threw some money on the bed, as wages, and left.

  In a way Hanlon was rather glad. It did help solve some of his problems, in that it left him freer to go and come where and when he wished. So he made no further protests, but silently packed his things, pocketed the money Endar had left, and went out and got his trike and rode back to Stearra. He wondered if his old rooms had yet been taken by someone else.

  When he reached the building where he had been living, he parked his tricycle in the shed in the back yard, and went up to his old apartment.

  The padlock and hasp had been forced, and the door was closed but unlocked. He opened it and went in just the same, for there were still some of his things there. He was determined to get them, even if someone else was living here now.

  But the moment he got inside he sensed something changed. He stood quietly, letting his mind sniff at the feeling, trying to figure out what it was. He thought he heard a slight noise in the next room, and tiptoed softly across to the door. It was, he now saw, slightly ajar, and he peered through the crack. Someone was lying on his bed—an older Estrellan male, he judged by the longer, heavier beard.

  Something about that face seemed familiar.

  The being in the spaceship high above the surface of this planet had been growing more and more puzzled and unsure of itself during the past several days. Its plans seemed to be going all awry—and it was not quite sure why.

  That native it had been controlling had not acted as he was supposed to act. Or rather, things had happened that had made it impossible for him to act always as directed. Even to the being the strange behavior of those four-legged beasts for riding, that had ruined its carefully prepared plan, was completely unexplainable.

  And there was still the problem of that one unreadable mind on this world. Various things the being had done or caused to be done had enabled it, through its high-powered, multiphased scanner, to SEE the entity and keep track of its various goings and comings, but all its most intense efforts had not yet been able to touch that mind.

  That this entity was working with those others who had such a different mind-texture from the usual run of Estrellans, it had long since proved to its satisfaction. The being now knew what these others were, and what they were trying to do on this planet. But who or what that unreadable entity was, what it was doing, and why—all this had so far defied the being's utmost powers.

  So it was puzzled and as nearly worried as it was possible for one of its race to be. Also, for the first time during its very long life, the being was beginning to lose a little of its supreme faith in its own abilities. It was almost beginning to wonder if it was possible for itself to fail in its mission? But that was unthinkable.

  And yet, it almost wailed mentally, that entity MUST be working toward the same ends as those others. Was it their master?

  For nearly two Estrellan days and nights it had been considering carefully and minutely all the data so far acquired, and what its next actions should be. One thing it had early decided—there was no further use for confining or controlling those other two strange-minded creatures from that other system. It therefore released the "flee" compulsion from the one, and caused the "jailer" to open the doors and allow the other to leave its prison.

  As George Hanlon stared at that figure on the bed, he reached out mentally and touched its mind. Instantly he let out a yell of delight, flung wider the door, and ran to the bedside.

  "Dad, you're free!"

  Admiral Newton woke, saw his son, and pushed himself erect. But as he did so a grimace of pain crossed his face, and Hanlon was all solicitude.

  "What's the matter, dad?"

  "Guess I'm not in very good shape," his father managed to grin. "Been half-starved and tortured a bit. But never mind that now. I'm glad to see you. When I was freed, I figured the quickest way to find you was to come here and wait. Guessed you'd be back sometime."

  "Just lucky I did. Things worked out a bit differently than I expected, or I might never have come back here." He explained in short, terse sentences what he had been doing and what he thought he had accomplished so far. "So you see, dad," he concluded, "why I'm doubly glad to see you, both because it means you're free, and so you can advise me what we're to do next."

  "Hmmm," the admiral thought swiftly. "We've got to do something immediately, that's for sure. Of course, I have the authority to approach Amir as a Terran, in case of need. But do you know for sure," he bent a penetrating gaze on the young man, "whether or not the Ruler has decided in our favor?"

  "No," Hanlon said honestly. "I don't know that. But it seems as though he should have, now that he knows what Irad was trying to do, and why. If we go to him at once, and urge him properly, as well as explain why we are here and how we were trying to protect him, he should swing over our way. At least, that's what I'd about decided I ought to do."

  The admiral was again silent, his brow creased in a deep frown of thought. Suddenly he snapped his fingers in decision, and looked up. "We'll do it. I have uniforms hidden in one of my hide-outs here, and we'll get rid of our disguises and go see him."

  He climbed from the bed, and Hanlon gasped as he saw how emaciated his father was, and the marks of his torture. But the admiral dressed, then both went down and climbed aboard Hanlon's motor-trike.

  But when they got to Newton's room, another surprise awaited them. For Hooper was there, waiting for Newton as the admiral had waited for Hanlon.

  After mutual exchanges of experience, the three thankfully began removing their Estrellan disguises, worn so long and so uncomfortably. Their clothing off, they jumped beneath the pipe-shower, and as the water softened the hair and plastic, they took off their false ears and noses, and ripped the hair from their bodies. Then they shaved their beards, and more or less trimmed each other's hair to the best of their ability.

  "Boy, does this feel good?" Hanlon cavorted, naked, about the little room, while his father and Hooper laughed their own relief.

  Admiral Newton pulled a large travelling-case from beneath his low bed, unlocked the three complicated and pick-proof locks, and took out some uniforms. The others looked their astonishment, and he grinned. "Didn't know I had yours, too, did you?"

  Clean, shaved and dressed in their uniforms, with the symbols of their ranks on the collars and shoulder tabs, the three sat comfortably in easy chairs, discussing plans and telling more fully what each had discovered.

  Hanlon learned that the plot had been far more widespread than he realized. Almost every city on the planet had a cell working at the spreading of the propaganda against Estrella's joining the Terran Federation, and the lesser rumors about the insanity of Inver, the Ruler's son. He now learned the real reason for that whispering campaign, and wondered how he had missed it before. Inver stood Third-In-Line, and would become the Ruler after Amir if anything happened to Irad.

  Both Hooper and Newton, who had worked more exclusively in other cities than Stearra, knew the names of most of the native Estrellans who headed these cells, and they could be picked up and arrested when the time came. The crime wave had been quite wide-spread, also, as had the wh
ispers that the Terrans were to blame for it.

  The other two were loud in their praise of Hanlon's work in uncovering the real head of the plot, and his splendid work in saving the Ruler's life when his assassination had been so carefully planned.

  It was noticeable that the junior SS man no longer took their praise with the cockiness he had formerly exhibited. In fact, he was actually apologetic and uncomfortable. He squirmed and blushed, and tried to minimize what he had done.

  George Spencer Newton Hanlon, secret serviceman of the Inter-Stellar Corps, had finally grown up.

  It was so late when they completed their plans that Admiral Newton decided they had best wait until morning before seeking an audience with the planetary ruler. Besides, he and Hooper both needed all the rest they could get, before embarking on any new campaign.

  Hanlon prepared the best meal he could from the meager supplies in the admiral's room, and they all ate, then went to bed.

  But deep down in his inner consciousness, a warning bell seemed to be ringing as George Hanlon lay in bed. It took him many long, anxious minutes of intense concentration before he was able to isolate the feeling from the many new items that had been talked about that evening. But he finally brought it into focus in his mind. He sat upright, disturbing his father, who was almost asleep.

  "What's the matter, Spence?" sleepily.

  "Amir," Hanlon said with agitation. "He ought not to be left unguarded like this. Those gangsters, led by Irad, are sure to make another attempt to kill him—and quickly, now that Irad has tipped his hand."

  "But what can we do?" Hooper was also sitting up on the blanket-pallet that had been spread for him on the floor of this small, one-bed room.

  "I . . . don't . . . know," Hanlon said slowly. "I . . . I can probably watch, through a bird or something, what's going on. But if they try anything . . .".

  Newton started to climb out of bed. "I'll go notify the residence officials. Maybe we can alert his guards to be more watchful."

  Hanlon was still worried. "I don't know about that, either. Maybe some of them have been planted by Irad . . . and if we say anything to the wrong ones it might merely hasten their plans."

  "That sounds reasonable," Hooper said. "Irad would certainly never overlook a chance like that."

  "If he could make it," Newton admitted, lying down again. "Maybe you'd better keep watch, Spence, since you know how. If you see anything starting, we'll do our darnedest to break it up."

  And in its spaceship the alien being awoke the Estrellan native it had been controlling for so long, and impressed certain commands on his mind—nor was the native able any longer to make any attempt, however feeble, to resist. Continued compulsion had at last weakened his will to the point where all suggestions and commands were instantly obeyed without question.

  He therefore rose, dressed, equipped himself with a flamegun and certain other instruments, and left the house where he had been hiding out.

  CHAPTER 19

  ALTHOUGH GEORGE HANLON HAD BECOME adept at the use of the minds of birds, animals, fish, rodents and insects even at a considerable distance, he could not project his mind to any great length to find and gain control of such a mind, unless he had already used that mind and knew its texture and characteristics, or unless another part of his mind was already at that distant point in another brain.

  Thus, in the present instance, he could not project his mind the many miles between his present location and the residence of the Ruler, Elus Amir, and find an animal or bird mind he could take over. He could have done it, that is, with one of the cavals he had at various times handled, but one of them could not get into the palace and the Ruler's suite. Nor could he locate any of the birds he had used out there.

  He did, however, project his mind into Inver's caval the one he had helped heal—and from that vantage point tried to find a bird he could control. But none seemed to be anywhere near the stables.

  So, he had to start closer to where he was, and work outward. With time of the essence at the moment, a bird 'must be used. Just how he was to get a bird into the residence, and more or less keep it inconspicuous and unseen during his survey, was a problem that would have to be tackled when the time came.

  Lying on the bed in the little room, therefore, he quested about the nearby neighborhood trees until he found a swift-flying bird he could use. It took but a moment to do so, and to take full and complete control of its mind and body. Then the bird, whose brain now contained as large a portion of Hanlon's mind as he could force into it, was winging at its top speed toward the official residence of Amir, the Ruler.

  "The palace is in sight," Hanlon's voice was low but penetrant, after a time. "I'm looking for an open window or door."

  The other men watched with amazement and intense curiosity as the young man lay there on the bed, his eyes closed and his face drawn with concentration, as they could see in the dim light of the shaded lamp Hooper had risen and lighted. Both of the other SS men knew much of what Hanlon could thus do, yet watching him do it was a new experience to both, and one that filled them with deepest wonder and a sort of awe.

  The silence, even though of only two or three minutes duration, seemed like hours to the waiting watchers, then a jubilant "Ah!" let them know Hanlon had succeeded in the first part of his quest. "Got in through an open window in an upper story . . . heck, the door's shut."

  Another pause, and then the voice continued, "Here's another. Hah, this one opens into a hallway. Now, which way is Amir's suite?"

  They waited with impatience while they knew the bird Hanlon was controlling was seeking the proper portion of the interior of that great building. It seemed long and long before the soft voice spoke again.

  "He must have gone to bed—the door is shut. I'll have to get outside and try again, but now that I know where it is I'll see if I can get directly into his room."

  Hooper whispered in a tone he thought only Newton could hear. "By the shade of Snyder, but this is spooky. If I didn't know he could really do it, I'd swear it was impossible."

  But only a portion of Hanlon's mind was in that distant avian brain. The rest was here in his own body, and heard the comment.

  "Yeh," he drawled, "I know it's weird, and even I'm not used to thinking about it yet. Never thought how it would affect others. You don't need to whisper, though. The two parts of my mind are separate and distinct, so that I know what is going on in both . . . ah, one of the windows in the bedroom is opened, but only a crack. Maybe I can squeeze . . . did it, but I lost a few feathers. But I'm inside now. Let's see. There's a molding quite high up on the wall. It's wide enough so I can roost on that, sideways. Now we'll just have to wait and watch."

  "Is Amir all right?" his father asked anxiously.

  Hanlon grinned. "The way he's snoring he must be."

  But the question reminded Hanlon that the Ruler had been wounded. He made the bird fly down to the bed, and through its eyes saw only a small bandage on one of Amir's arms—luckily for him the Ruler slept with his arms outside the covers. "Must be he got only a slight burn, after all," he said.

  "Is there anyone close to his room—or can't you tell?" the admiral asked after a few moments of silence.

  "I'll see if I can find out." Hanlon sent his mind questing out from the bird, and soon reported, "There're two men in an adjoining room . . . they're guards . . . from what I can read of their minds they're not thinking any seditious or murderous thoughts. Just playing a game of some sort while keeping on watch."

  "Better keep checking them from time to time, though, hadn't you?" Hooper asked.

  "Yeh, it'd be a good idea."

  The other men were tired and not well, and despite their efforts to keep awake, dropped off to sleep. Surprisingly, even Hanlon's body and the main portion of his mind also lapsed into the unconsciousness of sleep. But the part in the bird kept awake—and so did the tiny thread of consciousness that connected it with Hanlon.

  Some time later, about midnight, Hanlon,
through the bird, heard a stirring sound in the ante-room, and investigated. The guard was being changed, and these two newcomers, he found from their minds, were tools of Irad.

  Along that thread of thought sped the warning, and Hanlon's body and the balance of his mind came fully awake. He lay there for some time, studying the situation, but nothing seemed to be happening. He was almost back to sleep again—his body, that is—when the bird heard a fumbling at the door of Amir's room, although the sound was softly muted as though the one out there was using the utmost stealth in hopes of not being discovered. Hanlon's mind quickly investigated, and found only one mind there. Evidently the guards had left, for this was a new personality.

  Hanlon reached out a hand and shook his father into wakefulness. "Someone's outside, trying to get Amir's door unlocked, or opened," he reported.

  Newton called Hooper, who sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes while the admiral explained in swift words.

  "The door's locked from the inside, and the key is still in the lock," Hanlon told them. "I made the bird fly down and look . . . whoever is at it must be using something like pliers to try to turn the key."

  Admiral Newton jumped out of bed, lit the lamp, and commanded Hooper, "Get up and dress. We'll have to rush out there." He turned to Hanlon. "Can you come with us, and still keep en rapport with your bird?"

  "Sure," Hanlon was already throwing off the covers, and getting tip. "The fellow, whoever he is, although I would imagine it might be Irad, is having trouble with the key, but he'll probably make it sooner or later."

  "D'you suppose we can get out there in time?" Hooper asked.

  "We'll certainly try," the admiral grunted, leaning down to fasten his shoes.

  "Can you wake the Ruler?" he asked anxiously, a few moments later. "He might have a better chance, if awake."

  "Sure," Hanlon said, and a moment later, "the bird flew down and brushed its wingtips across his face. He's awake now . . . he's sitting up . . . lighting the lamp . . . I sent the bird close to him then over to the door . . . he's watching it . . . now he sees the key turning . . . he's jumped out of bed . . . running to another door leading out of the room."