Star Rangers

by Andre Norton

  "Could it be," Rolth struck in, "that disruptor shells are not too many in Lord Cummi's armory?"

  "That thought has also occurred to us," Krowli answered. "Only it is a little difficult to prove. Cummi has had all the arms under his control since the second day we landed. We have only personal side arms which he could not logically take from us. This whole rotten mess came about just because he was able to think faster than the rest of us. And be sure that he didn't overlook the point of holding all the guns he could! We might storm Cummi's headquarters, sure, but if the disruptors do work-that would be the end of the stormers. And he has two sensitives-we have-"

  "Two also, if I can contact Zinga. Any more among your people?"

  Krowli shook his head. "We are-were-about as ordinary a crowd of average citizens as you could find anywhere in Control territory. Cummi grabbed all those of use to him, along with the arms."

  Rolth had been studying the map and now he dug a fingernail into the center of the square representing Cummi's hold.

  "I notice you don't have the tube-tunnel marked-"

  "What tube-tunnel?" Krowli wanted to know.

  Smitt smashed his fist down on the box and swore at the pain. "I'm three kinds of a Domanti idiot," he shouted. And then Kartr's explanation interrupted him.

  "It depends now upon whether Cummi has discovered those underground routes," the sergeant concluded.

  "He doesn't know of them-I'm almost certain of that! None of us heard of them before-unless the techneers have discovered them and kept the secret."

  Rolth looked up. "If they did just that we may be leading a forlorn hope right into a stinger's nest."

  "And if they don't know"-Smitt was almost exultant-"we'll be in their midst before they are aware of it!"

  "You've got to pick the right men for this," Kartr warned without any of Smitt's enthusiasm. "You're the right type, Smitt. They can't crack your mind shield. But the rest-we'll have to have men with whom the Can-hound and Cummi can't tamper. Now take that fellow who brought us in-he isn't a sensitive, at least he doesn't seem to be, yet he caught my thought beam and jumped us at once."

  "That must have been Norgot. He has had good reason to learn how to protect himself against mind invasion. He was one of the Satsati hostages-"

  "So!" Rolth paid tribute. "No wonder he was edgy when you tried to probe him, Kartr. He ought to be a perfect choice for the boarding party."

  "Boarding party!" thought Kartr fleetingly. Odd how the space terms stuck in their speech even now when they were permanently earthed.

  "Yes," he said aloud. "Any more of his caliber around?"

  Krowli beckoned to one of the men who had just finished eating. "You're a sensitive, Sergeant. We'll leave the selection up to you."

  In the end they assembled eight men with mind shields tight enough to make them possibilities. Kartr longed for Zinga and Fylh, but so far nothing had been heard from the Bemmy rangers, although the rebel patrols had been alerted to keep watch for them.

  Together the party of ten descended one by one in the gravity well the rangers had first discovered.

  There was a single car at the platform and three was a very tight fit for the voyage. But they made it that way, with Rolth at the controls each trip forward and back. And at last they stood near the plate elevator under Cummi's headquarters. Kartr could see no indication that there had been any visitors there since the time he and the Faltharian had passed that way before.

  It was those two other stops along the way, the ones they had sped by then, which interested him now.

  If there was any welcoming party waiting for them at the top of the shaft it might be well to make an earlier stop. So he pushed the lowest button on the wall. The five of them who had managed to crowd on the plate clung together as they were whisked up.

  Their support came to a stop in darkness and Kartr marshaled his four companions off to let the elevator sink back. Then he dared to flash his beam about.

  They were on a ledge from which a ramp ran up into the darkness. Underfoot was a coating of fine, gritty dust which Kartr believed had not been disturbed for centuries. And there was no indication of life other than their own, his perception assured him of that. Cummi must be ignorant of this breach in his defenses.

  The swish of displaced air heralded the arrival of the plate again and then Smitt, Rolth and the other three rebels joined them. Rolth hung out over the well and surveyed the space overhead.

  "Okay. It closed up when the plate hit bottom. Unless someone was up there watching at just this moment they'll never know."

  Kartr switched off his torch and Rolth took the lead, each man grasping hold of the belt of the one before him, forming a chain to negotiate the dark through which only Rolth could pass freely. At first the angle of the ramp was a steep one, but it began to level off until they found themselves in a large room, coming around the base of a partition into a lighted space filled with the buzz of running machinery. The partition from this side seemed solid wall and Kartr did not wonder that the ramp and the shaft it led to had not been discovered. At the same instant he not only became aware of a man ahead but was able to identify him.

  "Dalgre!"

  The sergeant beckoned to Smitt. "Dalgre's ahead-with another-maybe a guard, unless he has joined

  Cummi. You might have better luck contacting him than I would. And I can cover you-"

  The com-techneer replied with a short nod and signaled to his rebel followers to stay where they were.

  Then, together with Kartr, he ran from the shadow of one giant machine to another, until they were able to see into a pool of brighter light where Dalgre sat before the board of controls and a man in the rumpled uniform of a jetman lounged several feet away, a force beam projector cradled in his arm.

  Kartr touched Smitt's shoulder and pointed to himself and then to the left, a path which would, with continued luck, bring him near the guard. He took it, moving like a gray wisp of fog around machines whose purpose he could not guess, until he came up behind the jetman. From where he crouched he could see the tip of Smitt's helmet ridge crest.

  Then the com-techneer stepped boldly out and in that same instant Kartr sprang, bringing the butt of his blaster down on the guard's right arm. The man screamed and doubled up against the side of the control board, dropping the projector which flew across the floor. In a second Dalgre had scooped it up and was in a half crouch ready to fire. But Smitt's familiar grays were in his sights and he did not squeeze the trigger.

  "Very neat," commented the com-techneer. "One would think you had practiced it. I take it that you are not a convert to Cummi, Dalgre?"

  The Patrolman showed his teeth. "Is that likely? They needed me-so I'm still alive. But they blasted

  Snyn and the Commander-maybe Jaksan also for all I know-"

  "What?" all three of the Patrol demanded almost with a single voice.

  "Did it an hour ago. Last I heard Jaksan and the medico were barricaded in the west wing. This is a madhouse. About time we put some fear for the Comet back into these space-blasted fools! If it weren't for the Can-hound being able to find out where everyone is and what he's doing, I'd have tried to make a break before this-"

  The jetman guard was tied with his own belt to the legs of the bench before the control board. Kartr looked over the array of dials there.

  "Anything you can do to this that might put the odds in our favor?"

  Dalgre grinned ruefully. "I'm afraid to chance it. I'm no real mech-techneer. And they gave me only a half hour's briefing before they put me here. If I pull the wrong lever I might blow us up. Too bad-because we might be able to shake them right out of the building if we only knew what all those gadgets mean."

  "How do you get out of here?" one of the rebels wanted to know.

  "Anti-gravity lift." Dalgre guided them to an alcove beyond the control board. "Only trouble is that they may have a guard on the upper level who will become suspicious if we rise before my shift is up."

  "An
d how long will that be?"

  Dalgre consulted his wrist dial. "A full half hour, planet time."

  "Can't wait that long," Kartr decided. "Any other stops on this rise beside the one you are supposed to use?"

  "No."

  "But there is something else-" Rolth had been examining the walls of the shaft. "Here are holds for hands and feet-perhaps to be used in times of emergency. We can climb out-"

  And climb they did. Kartr caught the message of a stranger ahead-the guard Dalgre had predicted. It was also Dalgre who had the answer.

  "Let me hail him-"

  The sergeant pulled back against the side of the well and kept only a single handhold on the climbing bars as the other Patrolman squeezed by him. A moment later they heard Dalgre hail whoever was at the top.

  "Give us a hand-"

  "What's the matter?"

  "I'm no mech-techneer-send for one of your fellows-one of these blasted machines down here is running wild. It may blow us up or something!"

  Dalgre climbed the last few feet out of the shaft and moved away from its mouth.

  "Where's Taleng? Why didn't he come up with the message?" The guard was openly suspicious.

  "Because-" Kartr heard Dalgre start to answer and then came sounds of a struggle.

  The sergeant swarmed up the last rungs and out of the hole. Dalgre was fighting with the guard for the possession of a hand force-beam. Kartr did not try to reach his feet but sent his body plunging forward to bring down both men. They fell on him with force enough to drive the air out of his lungs in an agonized grunt.

  Minutes later the foggy scene began to clear again. The guard lay bound and gagged close to the wall and Rolth kneeled beside the sergeant kneading Kartr's ribs to force the air back into him again. Smitt,

  Dalgre and the rebels had vanished. Rolth replied to the question the sergeant did not yet have breath enough to ask.

  "I couldn't hold them back."

  "But-" Kartr's words came between painful gasps, "Cummi-the Can-hound-"

  "They don't honestly believe very much in danger from a sensitive's power," Rolth reminded him.

  "Even if they have seen a demonstration-they simply refuse to believe the evidence presented by their eyes. It's the way most humans are made-"

  "How very true. Luckily for us-"

  Kartr froze and did not finish his sentence. Instead he turned on Rolth and sent the Faltharian sprawling forward into a doorway beyond. "Get out there quick and see if you can stop those fools making targets of themselves. I know that there's trouble waiting for them ahead-"

  He watched Rolth pick himself up and go. Because the trouble wasn't ahead he hoped that the

  Faltharian would not stop to ask questions. There was trouble, right enough, but it lay behind, coming closer every second.

  Cummi was coming-and this time Kartr knew that it was to be battle between them, an all-out battle without quarter on either side-a battle fought on no visible field and for an untellable victory.

  11 - OUTCAST

  Kartr was lying on his back, staring up into a leaden sky, and fine needles of rain stung eyes and skin.

  The cold was numbing and from somewhere nearby came a whimpering. After long minutes he knew that he was the whimperer. But he could not stop the sound, any more than he could control the shudders which shook his whole aching body. He willed his hands to move and they dragged heavily across torn clothing and patches of raw flesh.

  Then he tried to sit up. His head swam sickeningly and the gray world whirled around. But he could see rocks, scrubby bushes ringing him in. His mind sorted the evidence of his eyes, as he watched blood ooze sluggishly from a cut along his ribs. He accepted the reality of the pain in his body, the stone ledge on which he lay, and the bushes- All were a part of this world-

  This world? What world?

  That question brought to life a white-hot fire in his mind. He cringed and tried not to think as the rain washed the blood away from his chest. He was almost content as long as he did not think. There was a second thrust of agony through his head as he became aware of other life near. A tawny muzzle broke through the bushes, round yellow animal eyes regarded him unwaveringly, a cold curiosity touched his mind. He sent a silent appeal to it for aid-and the head vanished.

  Then he moaned and his clumsy hands caught his spinning head. For he knew now that for him there was no help. Behind him lay a barrier which cut him off from the past. He shrank from the torture that edge of memory brought him.

  But deeper than memory lay some hard core of resistance. It flogged him into effort. Panting, whimpering, he dragged his feet under him, and, clawing at the stone, got to his knees and then to his feet.

  He lost his balance and fell down a steep slope into a stream. Pulling himself out of the flood, he huddled beside a tall rock and fought for memory.

  It came clear and sharp as a video-print-too clear, too vivid.

  He was in a strange building, surrounded by high walls, and he was waiting, waiting for a danger beyond all dangers. It came toward him, unhurried, purposeful. He could feel the beat of power which enveloped it. He must fight. And yet he already knew every move of the coming battle, knew that it was a lost one-

  There was a clash of wills, the pouring out of mind force against mind force. There was a sudden leap of confidence at his own strength.

  Another mind snaked in to aid his enemy, a devious, evil one which left in its wake an unclean trail.

  But the two together were not able to force his barrier. He held to the defensive for a while and then struck. Under that blow the evil mind quivered-shrank. But he dared not follow its slight retreat for its partner fought. And now that first mind began to plead-to promise-

  "Come in with us. We are of your own kind. Let us unite to rule these stupid cattle-nothing can withstand us then!"

  He seemed to listen, but under cover he planned. There was one very dangerous move he had not yet tried. But it was all that was left him.

  So he dropped his barrier, only for an instant. With a purr of triumph the evil fighter surged in and he allowed it. Once it had come too far to retreat he turned on it, surrounded and utterly crushed it. There was a scream which was only mental. And the evil was snuffed out as if it had never existed.

  But the other, the one who had beckoned and promised, was still waiting. And at the very moment of his victory it struck, not only with its own force, but with added power it had kept cunningly in reserve. And he had known that this would happen-

  He fought, desperately, vainly, knowing that the end was already decided. And he broke, so that that other, exultant, wild with victory, swept in. That which was his will was imprisoned, held in bonds, while his body obeyed the enemy.

  Down that blank-walled corridor he marched stiffly, purposefully, a blaster in his hand, his finger on the firing button. But within he was shrieking silently because he knew what he would be compelled to do.

  Stabbing flashes of blaster fire cut back and forth across a wide open space. And at the opposite edge of that area was what he had been sent to find-the ranger sled. Against his will he crouched and crept from protection to protection.

  He saw men fall and the one who shared this weird journey with him snarled in rage as they went down. The opposition was being overcome-and those who brought them down were his own friends.

  One more short rush would take him to the sled. And even as he was wondering why the other who commanded him wanted that so terribly he made the spring. But two who crouched behind its shadow stared up at him in stunned surprise. He knew them-but still his arm and hand were forced down and he fired. The startled croak from the fanged jaws of the nearer rang in his ears as he scrambled into the seat and grabbed at the controls.

  With his mind sick and cowering, he only half relaxed under the take-off which slammed him breathless against the padding of the seat. And that other inside his mind set the course, one which sent the slight aircraft spiraling up into the dusky dome, up and up, until it to
uched a balcony high above the heads of the fighters and another leaped into the sled.

  And that other's will goaded them away, speeding out of the hall and away at top speed over the city, heading toward a horizon where a faint rim of gray proclaimed daybreak. Although he was obeying that order he still struggled. It was a noiseless, motionless duel, carried on high above the ancient city, will against will, power against power. And it seemed to Kartr that now the other was not quite so confident-that he was on the defensive, content to hold what he had rather than to attempt to strengthen his control.

  How did it end-that fight in the sky? Kartr pillowed his aching head on the stone beside the stream and tried vainly to remember. But that was gone. He could only recall that he had-had blasted Zinga!