by Eando Binder
With a spurt of psi-power, Hillory materialized his two hands and the treasure box, which became heavy metal. Then he swung the non-astral treasure box at the fish, crushing its skull. The fish’s two big eyes turned dim and began to glaze. The hypnotic spell broke. Barton and Merry looked around dazedly, as if waking from a deep sleep.
“Go back up,” screamed Hillory. “As fast as you can.”
Their astral forms flashed upward. Hillory followed a short ways behind, keeping his clairvoyant vision darting in all directions. Frustrated with his hypnotic fish trick, Jorzz might still try to control some shark or other sea creature and attempt another nameless psi-threat.
But all went well as they neared the surface…until Barton began to gasp, “Losing control…can’t hold my astral form much longer….”
Chapter 12
Another quandary. Hillory debated a moment, then shot up to the surface and beyond, reaching the hovering psi-bubble where they had “anchored” it in the air. Leaping in and tossing the treasure box aside, Hillory returned to his material form and guided the bubble downward. It went underwater with a splash.
Staring all around swiftly, Hillory saw the struggling form of Barton about fifty feet down, completely materialized and in danger of drowning. Sending the bubble close, Hillory scooped up Barton through the bubble’s door, at the same time using PK power to keep the water from rushing in. Moments later the bubble shot clear of the sea, into the air.
“Thought you’d never come up,” gasped Merry, flinging herself into the bubble just as her astral form materialized into solidity. Beside her, Barton lay choking and spitting water out of his lungs. He finally sat up, recovered.
“Nearly became a permanent ghost,” he bantered. He stared gratefully at Hillory. “Good thing you have a bag of magic psi-tricks.”
Hillory could not answer. He sat exhausted, drained of psi-energy and physical energy alike. Using psi-powers was somewhat like running at top speed on foot for miles without letup.
Merry saw the frantic signal in his eyes and took over the task of psi-levitation, barely in time. The bubble had thinned dangerously. Firm again, as Merry drew down psi-energy, the bubble carried them home at a good clip.
Hillory was feeling more himself when they arrived and brought in the treasure box. They had the box cut open as before. Hillory drew out the rainbow-hued crystal globe with the coils of tape inside. “We’ll bring this right to Dr. Torreo for safekeeping.”
When they strode into Dr. Torreo’s lab, Hillory said, “Put this in our fifth dimension cache with the other one.”
“But the other one isn’t there,” returned Torreo.
Hillory jerked. “You mean Jorzz somehow got hold of it there?”
“No, no,” said Torreo, breaking into a smile. “Dr. Clyde had me bring it back from the fifth dimension and turn it over to Dr. Cheng, who is trying to open it.” Hillory was already on his way. “Any luck, Dr. Cheng?” he asked, coming in the lab door. The dwarfed Oriental had the first treasure globe within a meson-microscope and was peering through an eyepiece. He turned wearily.
“Not so far. I’m examining the interlocked structure of the crystal globe. Even if I can’t make indestructible matter, maybe I can take it apart.”
“That’s a paradox,” snorted Barton. “If something is indestructible it can never be taken apart.”
Cheng eyed him witheringly. “Indestructible is a relative term. It may be impervious to any known force, yet there may be some energy ‘key’ that will open it up. I’m looking for that key.”
Hillory was worried. “But with the crystal globe here, instead of safe in the fifth dimension, the mind-alien might strike to gain possession.”
“Yet you want the globe opened, don’t you?” said Cheng testily. “You can’t have it both ways.”
Hillory smiled weakly. He pondered the dilemma. While he was away finding the other globes, Jorzz might change tactics and seize them at Serendipity Labs. Yet if the treasure globes were kept ‘locked up” in the fifth dimension, Dr. Cheng could not search for the “key” to open them. It was not easy to match wits with an invisible mind entity who could strike anywhere as he chose.
Something had to be done about this situation. But what?
Hillory turned to Barton and Merry. “We’ll let Brains decipher the third treasure spot tomorrow. Right now, I’ve got some thinking to do.”
Hillory first delivered the second globe to Dr. Torreo and waited until he saw it weirdly vanish, transported to their fifth dimensional “strongbox.” Then he went to his lab with the gnawing worry that they were still vulnerable to Jorzz though they had beaten him to two treasure caches so far.
* * * *
Dr. Torreo lay sleeping in his quarters at Serendipity Labs. Each of the scientists had a private bedroom in an adjacent section of the building if their researches kept them tied close to their labs. If not, they had the option of driving to their homes which were scattered in the general vicinity and spend time with their families.
Dr. Torreo was too involved with his dimensional explorations to leave and go home and hence slept in his assigned bedroom. It was late at night and quiet through Serendipity Labs.
No one saw the ectoplasmic form that slowly oozed under the door of Torreo’s room and materialized into a manlike shape with two owl eyes. The white form deliberately blew a breath of cold air at the sleeping scientist so that he began to shiver. He woke up to pull the blankets tighter around him.
Then he saw the two glowing eyes in the dark, staring at him intently. Dr. Torreo opened his mouth to yell but no sound came out. Instead, his jaw fell slack and he arose in a trance.
A soft ESP whisper was saying, “Arise, Dr. Torreo…go to your lab…go.”
In a somnambulistic state, like a zombie, the scientist went to his lab, followed by a white shadow that kept sibilantly sending telepathic whispers into his mind. Within the lab, the ESP voice gave instructions: “Retrieve the treasure globe from the fifth dimension.” Obediently, Dr. Torreo began powering up his dimension probe. But as magnetic forces began to build up, they affected Torreo’s nervous system, interfering with his catatonic state. His eyes unglazed. His brain resisted the hypnotic command.
He whirled, seeing the ectoplasmic form with its staring eyes. “The mind-alien,” he cried. “Trying to get hold of the treasure globe, through me. But I’m prepared….”
Torreo snatched up a pistol that lay hidden on a workbench. He fired pointblank at the white figure. Nothing happened. Torreo emptied the gun in growing alarm.
“Fool,” Jorzz hissed sibilantly into his mind from the unmoving white form. “Bullets and all other such weapons cannot harm a psi-creature.”
“No, but this can.” The lights snapped on and Hillory stood by the switch, aiming a tubular device with a tektite crystal mounted on its barrel. With a whooshing sound, a faint pink ray streaked out and struck the ectoplasmic form. With a soundless puff, it vanished.
“I was waiting for you, Jorzz,” said Hillory. “I figured you would try the hypno-trick on Dr. Torreo, to make him withdraw the treasure globes—Dr. Cheng returns his each night too—from the fifth dimension. My psi-weapon can’t harm you, but it can disrupt your control over anything you animate. Clear?”
Something very much like a bitter curse floated back as the mind-alien left, its ESP aura fading away.
Dr. Torreo was white and shaken. Hillory gave him a glass of water, then explained. “In my lab before, I devised this psi-pistol. I’ve given it a psi-charge of power that will last for many shots of PK ‘dynamite.’ You’ll keep this gun on hand all the time, Dr. Torreo. If Jorzz attempts any more tricks on you, fire away.”
The color returned to Torreo’s face, and he managed a weak smile. “Thanks. I’ll feel much safer with this, Hillory.”
Hillory paused at the door. “Tomorrow morning I’m giving Dr. Cheng a psi-pistol too. Furthermore, I’ll have the machine shop turn out more and arm every man in the place, including th
e janitor, night-watchman, and service people.”
Hillory went to bed, feeling better. The psi-pistols would make Serendipity Labs mind-proof from Jorzz’s machinations. The treasure hunt trips might be a different story, but here at the labs the mind-alien would not be able to use his animating schemes to harass them.
Bit by bit, Hillory reflected in satisfaction; he was weaving a net of defense against the fantastic alien mind from outer space. Somehow, he had to win out in this unprecedented battle of mentalities using almost magical psi phenomena and paranormal powers.
But so many nagging questions remained. Why was Jorzz after the treasure from space? Would they be able to find the other treasure tapes, hidden an age ago? What would the strange tapes reveal? Most crucial of all—would they ever get the adamant globe containers open to retrieve the tapes?
And a final chilling thought stole into Hillory’s mind. Would the mental mastermind from space find some other weird way to gain his goal?
REJECTED flashed the light of the computer for the 8th time.
Barton’s mustache twitched. “Brains doesn’t like any of the maps of ancient earth we’ve showed so far. The one for Mount Everest worked only because that part of the world was correctly cartographed. And the map showing Atlantis allowed him to pinpoint spot No. 2. But some other map is needed to reveal spot No. 3.”
“We’re going to run out of maps,” muttered Hillory, handing over another one. “Merry’s only holding two more.”
But this time the lighted screen read: ACCEPTABLE. Then, for solving time at Barton’s request: 14 MINUTES, 2 SECONDS.
“At last the right map,” sighed Hillory.
“Wait,” said Barton surprised. “Here’s the map you just handed me. By mistake, I put in one of the maps we previously tried.” Barton frowned. “I don’t get it. Why would Brains first reject that map, then accept it?”
Hillory shrugged. “Maybe Brains didn’t scan it right the first time.”
Barton glowered. “Computers don’t pull dumb boners like that.”
“Figure it out later. Right now, let’s see if Brains will give us spot No. 3.”
When the time was up, Barton pressed the voice button. His eyebrows shot up as a confused babble came from the computer, a gibberish of incomprehensible syllables.
“Brains sounds incoherent,” said Barton, astonished. “This never happened before….”
Then, with a faint click, the computer delivered normal words. “Sorry. A brief circuit mix-up. Reporting on the ancient map of earth, in comparison to the alien map, spot No. 3 is revealed. It is in the Amazon Jungle.”
“But that’s an enormous area,” remonstrated Barton.
“Just where in the jungle? Have you determined the latitude and longitude?”
“That was not possible due to discrepancies between the metal map and the comparison map. However, an analog interpretation gives the spot as being 933 miles due west of the mouth of the Amazon River.”
“That’s still too generalized,” muttered Barton. “The mouth of the Amazon is wide, and the spot might be miles north or south of the point 933 miles to the west. Any further refinement of the data?”
This last was addressed to the computer, but it signaled a negative.
“Guess that’s the best Brains can do in this case,” Hillory said to the others. “It’ll be something of a blind search with no markers or landmarks to go by, just featureless jungle land.”
“Still, the alien pirates who buried the treasure tape there wouldn’t just stick it in the middle of plain jungles,” observed Merry. “Maybe we’ll hit on some outstanding rock or peculiar cliff or something.”
“Something’s funny about this,” said Barton broodingly, his thoughts on something else. Suddenly he snapped on the voice circuit again. “Brains, why did you first reject this map, then accept it?”
There was a moment of silence from the computer, as if it were collecting its thoughts. Then: “There was a crease in the earth map the first time, distorting the configuration of the land masses involved. The crease was absent the second time, and the map became useful.”
Barton grinned with a red face. “I can almost hear Brains say under his breath—watch it next time, fumble-fingers.”
“The Amazon it is,” said Hillory briskly. “We’ll wear appropriate clothing. And we’d better take along weapons, rifles as well as the laser-gun. And this time we may need food and water for a week.”
Chapter 13
The next day their psi-bubble flyer hissed through the air and sped southward. They passed the Panama Canal and soon the upper edges of the wild Amazon jungle hove into view below.
“Brazil has done a good job of clearing some of the jungle land and converting it into cattle ranges,” commented Hillory. “But much of it is un-reclaimed. “It’s still the wildest patch of tropical jungle on earth.”
Under Hillory’s guidance, the psi-bubble swung to the eastern edge of South America until they hung over the wide mouth of the Amazon. Barton then used the Pathfinder to take a due west course for 933 miles. Finally the bubble lowered and began making a slow spiral that kept broadening out.
“Keep your eyes open for any oddity down there,” said Hillory. “Anything unusual that the aliens may have considered a marker of some kind.”
Some minutes later, Merry pointed down. “There. A distinct patch of red rock. It stands out like a sore thumb from the uniform greenery of the surrounding jungle.”
“Might be,” agreed Barton. “Lower and let’s look around.”
The bubble descended to the ground in the middle of the red rock clearing. It was not entirely barren. Where the rock had crumbled, a few trees had taken root. One old gnarled oak towered some two hundred feet high.
“Could that tree be the marker for the exact spot?” wondered Barton.
“A tree 35,000 years old?” scoffed Merry.
“I’m brilliant today,” grunted Barton. He tipped his sun helmet to wipe his brow. “Whew. Plenty hot and humid here.”
“This shade looks good,” said Merry, looking wilted as she stepped under the giant oak. She looked up and froze. Sitting on a branch and about to spring was a jaguar, its ferocious eyes fastened on its intended victim. Fear paralyzed her throat. The great cat leaped.
But it was met in mid-leap by a sharp hiss. A ruby red ray stabbed through its heart. To the side stood Barton, holding his laser-gun. Merry was unable to scramble aside and the dead beast’s body fell on her, pinning her down. Hillory ran to her aid and dragged the corpse off her.
She got to her feet shakily, otherwise unhurt. Barton holstered his gun but yanked it out again as the sinuous coils of a huge python swung down from the branches toward Hillory and the girl. A coil wrapped around them before Barton could take careful aim and drill a hole through its head. The serpentine length of the snake then dangled down limply with its tail still twined in the branches.
Hillory peered carefully into the branches. “Seems there are no more killer beasts up there.”
“Two is enough,” said Merry, shuddering. She sat down weakly trembling. Hillory turned at an odd sound, like thudding hooves. He gave an amazed grunt to see a huge armadillo charging out of the jungle. Barton had his back turned, and this time it was Hillory who snapped up his rifle and fired. The armadillo thundered closer, then stopped dead in its tracks and toppled over.
Barton stared at the big carcass. “Must be a water hole nearby where those critters live. But why would he deliberately charge us when we didn’t disturb him?”
Hillory had a baffled look in his eye. “And the jaguar and python. They seldom attack humans unless they are cornered or extremely starved.”
His lips tightened. “Three killer beasts attacking us the moment we arrive. It all seems unreal, unnatural. It smacks of being staged…by Jorzz.”
“Just what I was thinking,” nodded Barton, plucking at his mustache. “Well, he’s probably run out of killer beasts near enough to menace us.”
They were all sitting under the oak in its shade now, recovering from the rapid-fire series of animal attacks. Hillory felt uneasy somehow. Would more danger show up, engineered by the cunning mind-alien? In what form?
Merry clutched his arm. “That shadow…of a tree branch…it’s moving!”
Too late they glanced up. Tree branches began to whip downward toward them, though there was no wind.
“Jorzz animated this tree now,” gasped Hillory. “Run for it.”
But as they tried to stumble away, they were still under the widespread lower branches of the tree, which bent downward and formed a barrier. Wherever they turned, more branches swung down to hem them in. Then one branch with many stems whipped down and “seized” them.
It was the only word. The branch acted like a huge leafy hand, its stems curling around them. They were lifted off their feet. Then, as the branch whipped back upward, they were tossed higher and higher in the tree.
Like well-trained appendages, the broad branches kept flinging the three helpless people higher and higher.
Barton managed to get his laser-gun in hand and shot wildly. “No use,” he yelled. “How can you kill a tree?”
“We’re being tossed to the top of the tree,” said Hillory, getting the words out jerkily during their violent motion upward.
“And at the top?” said Merry, horrified.
“We’ll be flung down all the way to the ground…onto hard red rock,” answered Barton, starkly.
Hillory had pulled a psi-tektite from his pocket. Even in his wild gyrations among the tossing branches, he forced it in front of his eyes and strained to draw psi-energy from it. There wasn’t much time now. Their three forms were twisting through the air and drawing close to the tree’s tip.
Suddenly, a blinding flash materialized out of nowhere. It struck the base of the tree and split it open with a thunderous report.
Immediately, the tree’s branch movements became a wild, uncoordinated thrashing, like a dying man with twisting limbs. Branches no longer flipped them upward but let them drop.
