The Silent Invaders
Page 11
Harris smiled oddly and tried to struggle to his feet. The pain was too much for him. But then the silent voice said, You will feel no more pain.
The throbbing died away.
Rise.
Harris fought his way to a stand.
Come forward, now. Out of there. Come to us, and we will heal you. There is more work for you to do. Other enemies to be dealt with. You have only just begun.
He staggered and lurched his way down the hall, no longer in pain but still woozy and bleeding. The nervous reaction started to swim through his body. He had killed five of his countrymen. He had come to Earth on a sacred mission, a mission of holy obligation, and he had turned worse than traitor, betraying not only Darruu but the entire future of the galaxy.
He had cast his lot with the Earthmen whose bodily guise he wore. He had joined forces with the smiling yellow-haired girl named Beth beneath whose full breasts beat a Medlin heart.
Another wave of dizziness took him as he reached the front door of the office. He paused for a moment, clung to the door, then began to walk out, slowly, in a measured tread, not looking back at the five corpses behind him.
The police would be perplexed when they held autopsies on those five, he thought, and discovered the Darruui bodies beneath the Terran flesh.
He reached the gravshaft, stepped in, flipped the lobby indicator. Bumping sickeningly from side to side, the ancient gravshaft descended. He waited a moment in the lobby of the building, fighting back the nausea that assailed him, and then stepped outside into the clear, warm night air.
He looked up at the stars.
They spread like diamonds over the black velvet backdrop of the sky. Somewhere out there, lost in the brilliance, he knew, was Darruu. Wrapped in its crimson mist, circled by its seven moons.
He remembered the Mating of the Moons as he had last seen it: the long-awaited, mind-stunning display of beauty in the skies, and the laughter at the festival table, the singing, the hymns to the praise of the brilliance in the skies.
He knew that he would never see the Mating of the Moons again.
He could never return to Darruu now.
A strange emptiness grew in him. He felt utterly cut off, a man without a world. As he stood there, alone in the night, a helicar circled above, came to a landing in the street. A girl’s head peered out.
“Abner!” Beth called. “Abner, come! Are you all right? We’ll get that bullet out.”
He did not reply. He took an uncertain step toward the waiting helicar, then looked up again at the stars.
The radiant sky seemed to be spurning him.
He would never return home, he told himself. He would stay here, on Earth, serving a godlike race in its uncertain infancy. He had to sever all bonds with his past. Perhaps he could manage to forget that beneath the skin of Major Abner Harris lay the body and the aching mind of Aar Khülom, onetime Servant of the Spirit.
Forget Darruu.
Forget the fragrance of the jassaar trees and the radiance of the moons, forget the taste of the new wine, forget the kisses of the maidens.
Earth has trees that smell as sweet, it has a glorious pale moon that hangs high in the night sky, it has maidens of its own with ready lips. Put homesickness away, he ordered himself sternly.
Forget Darruu.
It would not be easy. He looked up again at the stars, trying to drink them in.
“Abner, come!” Beth called from the helicar.
He nodded distantly.
Earth was the name of his planet now, he thought.
Earth.
He took a last look at the speckled sky covered with stars, and then, as he began to move toward Beth, he wondered for the last time which of the dots of brightness was Darruu. He shook his head. Darruu no longer mattered now.
Smiling, Aar Khülom turned his face away from the stars.
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