The Magnificent Wilf

by Gordon R. Dickson

  They let go of each other. Tom stood up hastily.

  “Well?” he said, challengingly, to Mr. Rejilla.

  “Well,” said Mr. Rejilla, calmly, “I believe you know these two beings. Drakvil, of course; your Master and Trainer in the art of Assassination. And you’ve met Captain Jahbat of the Eighth Skikana.”

  “I am honored to face you again!” said Jahbat, bowing stiffly. “May I remind the Ambassador that there is a shot owing from him to me?”

  “What are you waiting for, then?” demanded Drakvil, testily, when Tom did not answer at once. “Kill him!”

  “Come, come, Drakvil,” said Mr. Rejilla in a mildly reproving voice. “This is not a matter that need concern you.”

  “Oh, very well,” said Drakvil. His voice trailed off, muttering something about “… Sector Council nonsense …”

  Mr. Rejilla ignored it.

  “Now, you all know what we must do—” lie was beginning in a clear voice when he broke off. “just a moment. The grandfather is missing.”

  Instantly Rex was also among them. He made a dash for Tom and Lucy, trying to lick any available skin surface on either one of them as quickly as he could.

  “Love Tom!” his telepathic voice roared in their heads. “Love Lucy. Good Rex? Good dog?” He began to bark with excitement.

  “No, Rex!” said Lucy. When he continued to bark she took hold of his muzzle and held his jaws together. He looked up at her, with his tail momentarily motionless in mid-air and the rest of him a visible question mark. “No, nobody’s mad at you. We just don’t want any barking right now. Still, Rex!”

  She let go of his muzzle and patted his head. He whined happily and licked at her hand.

  “Rex still,” he thought, and did not bark any more.

  “Now,” went on Mr. Rejilla, “that we really are all together—”

  “What does poor old Rex have to do with this?” demanded Lucy.

  “His presence, and reactions as representative of a sub-dominate and totally barbaric Race from your world will be highly useful in calibrating the reactions of yourselves—you and Tom,” said Mr. Rejilla, courteously switching to English. He reverted to the official Cayahno language to address them as a group. “Does anyone have any reason to delay our confronting these Extra-Galactics at this time?”

  “Where’s Hmmm?” asked Tom.

  “A responsibility has removed him temporarily,” Mr. Rejilla answered. “He will join us later.”

  “Ah,” said Tom.

  “No other questions?” said Mr. Rejilla. “Then we shall visit them now.”

  However, it was not wherever the Extra-Galactics were, that they all found themselves next, but in the same room with Mr. Slasjik. A couple of the wormlike beings with fancy hats were fanning him as he lay in his chair; and to Lucy’s eye, he seemed definitely more pale than when they had seen him last. As he noticed them he gave a scream.

  “It wasn’t my fault!” he cried. “I couldn’t help it and anyway I had no responsibility. I want my legal advisor—”

  “Call him yourself, Mr. Slasjik,” said Mr. Rejilla, sternly. “We are not a committee sent to examine you by the Sector Council. We are here to face the Extra-Galactics for ourselves. All that’s required is that you give us access to them.”

  Mr. Slasjik’s color darkened immediately.

  “Oh is that all—” He caught himself. “Of course, I’ll be only too glad to transfer you to their quarters. You won’t mind, I suppose, if I don’t go along with you. I’m feeling a little unwell at present.”

  Drakvil snorted in contempt.

  “Your presence won’t be necessary,” said Mr. Rejilla. “Merely do your duty as a citizen of this galaxy.”

  “Immediately!” said Mr. Slasjik. “Immed—”

  They never heard the end of the word he was saying. Suddenly, all of them but Mr. Slasjik were in yet another place.

  This one was almost too big to be called a room. It was as large as a hangar for several very large aircraft back on Earth—if not bigger. In fact the ceiling was so high above them that Tom, looking upward, saw a few small clouds floating just beneath it. He was reminded of the fact that the Vehicle Assembly Building for the spacecraft launch site at Cape Canaveral, Florida, had been reputed to be big and tall enough to make its own weather inside it.

  “Is this only a part of Mr. Slasjik’s home?” Tom asked Mr. Rejilla.

  “Yes,” answered the Oprinkian. “Unfortunately. Now, where are the Extra-Galactics lie was talking about?”

  “I think they’re right in front of us,” said Drakvil, dryly. “You may have been looking around and between them because of their size, Grandmaster.”

  “Ah!” said Mr. Rejilla. “You’re right; and they’ seem to be coming this way.”

  In fact, it was only then that Tom and Lucy identified the huge shapes of the Extra-Galactic Aliens.

  They’ were literally small mountains, roughly pvramidal in shape, and with a light gray skin that reminded Tom, at least, of elephants he had seen in a zoo. But the Extra-Galactics were many times larger than elephants. Only’ their skin, which looked thick and wrinkled, reminded him of elephants. The highest point of each was either sharp or jagged-looking; and their edges, where two of their sides met, looked sharp. They were now advancing—one of them in the lead, two just behind, and a fourth visible between the tops of the two in the middle—each with one sharp edge forward, like the prow of a ship.

  They came slowly, sliding over the floor in a way’ that produced an odd slurping sound. Except for that, it would have been easy to assume they were not moving at all. But the sound drew attention to the floor, sliding away out of sight under them as they came on.

  There was something utterly indifferent about their massive advance; as if all things here were merely’ ants to be trampled underfoot.

  In addition, something came from them that touched a deep, instinctive fear far inside Lucy’, like the feel of icy tentacles about her heart, that probed and slid, growing thicker and stronger as the mountains drew closer, bringing a rising panic with it.

  Creepy, crawly, inside me, she thought, like a little girl; and like a little girl again, felt the urge to look around for the comforting hand of a tall adult, who would not let any bad thing get her.

  But Tom was standing out of reach, even if his hand would have reassured her; and there was no comfort to be found in a hand belonging to Captain Jahbat, Drakvil, or even Mr. Rejilla.

  That is ridiculous, her adult self said sternly to the child she had been. But the fear was a real thing; and as the mountains got closer, it continued to grow.

  Around her, the others also were not showing any signs of how they were feeling it—if indeed they were. Jahbat was expressionless, inside the thick chitin that was his external body. Drakvil, now fussing with his weapons, seemed no different than usual; and Mr. Rejilla was peaceful and unreadable as always. Even Tom, aside from the fixity of his gaze on the oncoming Extra-Galactics, gave no indication of what he was feeling.

  But Lucy found herself moving toward him anyway. She reached him and took, not his hand, but his arm. He glanced at her briefly, patted her hand that held him, and returned his attention to the mountains. There was a tenseness in him she had never felt there before.

  They all stood motionless, watching the Extra-Galactics advance. The fear feeling increased steadily. She could not believe it was not doing the same thing to Tom and the others. It had a coldness of its own; and a pressure like that of ever-deepening water, that mounted steadily as the mountains came on. Their advance was slow but without a pause; not even as fast as the walking pace of an adult Human.

  Suddenly Captain Jahbat spoke.

  “A Skikana always goes first!” His voice rang on Lucy’s ears, so loud in that great empty place it almost hurt. “It will be my pleasure to try myself against them before any other of you.”

  Without waiting for agreement, Jahbat started across the wide floor toward the approaching mountains
, into the deepening fear-wave.

  Rex was growling, quietly, steadily, deep in his throat, in a way that was new for him, as well. Lucy put a hand on him to reassure him; but he went on with the low, steady growl as if he had not even noticed he had been touched.

  “Remember what I just told you and Drakvil,” Rejilla called after Jahbat, barely having to raise his voice to do so, for sound echoed and re-echoed through the enormous chamber, “your weapons are useless! It’ll be your will and courage only, bringing them to a halt. Also, remember, they’ll reflect against you, with extra power, any emotion you direct at them!”

  “I am not concerned,” Jahbat’s voice came back. He did not turn his head but his advance had slowed. “As a Skikana should, I will win, or fall nobly, in the attempt!”

  “He’ll fall nobly,” growled Drakvil, busy with the items on his weapons harness.

  “Drakvil,” said Mr. Rejilla severely, “you are a Master Assassin, but I remind you that courtesy has not been abandoned in the Guild that you and I—and, hopefully, Tom—belong to.”

  “Oh, very well,” said Drakvil.

  Jahbat was now almost to the mid-point of this enormous room they were in, and his pace, though it had slowed as if the air had thickened and become as heavy as water, was now bringing him very close to a meeting with the leading Extra-Galactic. Suddenly he gave forth a wild battle cry, and tried to run toward that first mountain.

  But he would have been better off, thought Lucy now, to shout at a mountain of stone. At least, from that he might have got an echo. But here, his cry only died as if it had gone out into an endless emptiness, and the mountains did not vary their unhurried, sliding advance to meet him.

  The nearest one was now only half a dozen meters from him. He lifted his voice again; but this time what came from him was a shaky cry that carried its own message.

  “I … am … Skikana …” His words broke and wavered back to Lucy and the others. “I never… .” He stumbled and fell. For a moment he seemed to be still trying to crawl forward. Then he stopped moving. Lucy’s breath stopped, for the sharp point of the leading mountain’s edge was still coming at him; and it looked as if the Extra-Galactic intended to slide over the fallen officer. But the mountain did not even show that much interest in him. The point of the huge creature’s sharp leading edge missed his body by inches; and the side behind the point merely nudged his motionless body aside, so that as the Extra-Galactic kept coming the unmoving Skikana officer slid and was tumbled down along its length, like a floating bit of trash shoved aside by a vessel.

  “Thought so,” said Drakvil. “Now, let me see … losets, planet-busters … yes, all here.”

  “May I remind you, Drakvil,” said Mr. Rejilla, “weapons will not help.”

  “Depends on how they’re used,” said Drakvil. “Actually, I intend to make use of my experienced Assassin’s strength of will. Has a Galactic Assassin ever been defeated? No. Have I, personally, ever been defeated? Of course not. I’ll not be defeated now.” Without another word, he stepped forward in his turn; and began to walk briskly toward the leading mountain, which was still some distance off. The still form of Jahbat had now disappeared behind it.

  The leading mountain changed its course to head directly toward the Assassin. Well short of their meeting, however, Drakvil turned and went off at an angle, so that he now looked at all the approaching mountains from the side. He stopped.

  The mountains turned also, and moved almost side by side to meet him; although the one who had been leading was still in advance of the others. By moving aside, the Assassin had lengthened, instead of shortened the distance that would bring them to him. He was now ignoring them, setting up some combination of his harness weapons in what now looked like a tripod, with a surveyor’s transit at its top—a narrow tube, pointed toward the mountains.

  He seemed to squint through the tube. The mountains came on; but suddenly, on a thin line between Drakvil’s instrument and the leading mountain, the air seemed to boil and writhe with turbulence. For a moment this turbulence continued and the mountain touched by it continued to advance. Then it stopped. The other mountains stopped.

  “Noble Assassin!” burst out Mr. Rejilla in the Cayahno official language. “Look, Tom. Take note of your Master. He has combined several of his tools to channel his emotions and fighting spirit into a very narrow and fine attack line, and used a planet-busting ray as a carrier for them. By so doing and making small the area on which he attacks one, he has at least checked them momentarily.”

  “Yes,” said Tom, tightly, his gaze riveted on the mountains. “But is it enough to drive them back?”

  “We cannot tell,” said Mr. Rejilla. “But at least it has obviously hurt the Extra-Galactic it touched; and made the others hesitate. The Council had thought we had nothing that would do it. See now how they are trying to avoid it.”

  Indeed, Lucy noticed that the other mountains had now moved from beside the leading mountain to behind it, where its bulk shielded them from the effect of Drakvil’s attack.

  “He’s found a weak spot in them!” said Mr. Rejilla. “Perhaps he can win for us, after all. It may be only like sticking a small pin in a very large Being; but perhaps they’re hyper-sensitive to resistance that hurts them in any way at all.”

  “It’s draining him, though,” said Tom, in a voice that seemed to tear his throat. “Look at him. He can’t keep this up much longer. He’s weakening!”

  It was true. Drakvil was still on his feet, but his head had lowered and his whole body was slumping. The line of turbulence from him to the nearest Extra-Galactic was still straight, holding the mountains back; but he seemed drained and all but exhausted.

  “Yay!” said a Xxxytl voice in Lucy’s left ear.

  Chapter 22

  Lucy, a cold fear quenching the sudden hope that had sprung up in her at Drakvil’s first apparent success, turned her head and saw the tiny, hummingbirdlike shape of Hmmm, hovering in mid-air by the side of her head. The gazes of both Mr. Rejilla and Tom remained fixed on Drakvil and the Extra-Galactics; and neither seemed aware of Hmmm’s arrival.

  “Sorry to be late,” said Hmmm, cheerfully, “we had to do it this way, however. Rejilla was to take you all to face the Extra-Galactics, while I explained our plans to the Sector Council, there not being a moment to lose, because of the timal difference. Should I try to help Drakvil?”

  Lucy looked at the little mite with amazement.

  “What could you do?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” said Hmmm. “That’s what’s so bad about it. I don’t even know if I could get as far as he has. Those Extra-Galactics scare me a lot, even back here.”

  The offer was ridiculous, Lucy thought, her mind spinning. Hmmm could never be any threat to the mountains. But anything—just so it didn’t have to be Tom, in case Drakvil failed.

  “Hmmm, listen!” she said, urgently. “Mr. Rejilla’s a Grandmaster of Assassins. That has to mean lie’s better than any other ordinary Galactic Assassin. Why doesn’t he help Drakvil?”

  “Alas,” said Hmmm, “with all his virtues, Mr. Rejilla is a Clinical Philosophical Assassin.”

  “A what?” demanded Lucy.

  “A Clinical Philosophical Assassin,” said Hmmm. “He became interested in the Assassins only because he is a Clinical Philosopher and they are part of everything in the universe with which a Clinical Philosopher concerns himself. He therefore took all the Assassin training and no other living Assassin had ever shown his excellence. Therefore the other Assassins chose him as Grandmaster. But I don’t think he could do anything against these Extra-Galactics even if he was willing to use force against them.”

  “How about his Finger of Truth?”

  “Well,” said Hmmm, “it does make whoever it’s pointed at tell the truth for as long as the Oprinkian wants them to. But do you think making these invaders tell the truth will stop them?”

  “I don’t know, but—” began Lucy. A cry from Mr. Rejilla pulled her a
ttention back to the mountains.

  “He’s—he’s going down!” cried Mr. Rejilla, wringing his long, furry hands.

  It was true. Drakvil had dropped to his knees. He was still managing to point his device at the mountains; and a certain amount of turbulence showed it was still working. The mountains were still not coming forward. But on the other hand, they had not retreated in the least. They were stopped; but only as long as Drakvil lasted—and that did not look as if it would be long now.

  Lucy grabbed Tom, just as he started to move. “No, Tom!” she hissed in his ear. “You don’t have to go. Don’t go! It’s none of our business. Let whatever happens, happen. It shouldn’t be up to us—”

  She never finished what she was going to say, because he turned and seized her so strongly she was sure she felt and heard her ribs crack as he kissed her.

  “I love you!” he said fiercely. “But I’ve got to. Don’t you see? I’ve got to go now!”

  He tore himself loose from her and ran toward Drakvil.

  “Drakvil!” he shouted. “Hang on! I’m coming!”

  He reached the Master Assassin and caught him, just as Drakvil went limp. For a moment he held him and also the instrument that Drakvil had controlled. Then Drakvil dropped out of his arms and lay still on the floor. Tom fumbled with the instrument.

  “I don’t know how—” he shouted back to Lucy, Hmmm, and Mr. Rejilla—“yes! I do. I can work it!”

  He stood behind the instrument on its tripod, with Drakvil still at his feet, and the turbulence sprang into being once more between him and the leading mountain, just as it began to move forward and the others began to follow.

  The mountains stopped immediately. This time, they actually recoiled a few feet. Then they stopped again. Tom picked up the instrument, took a stride toward them, put it down and played the turbulence on the leading mountain once more.