Sutton_Jean_Sutton_Jeff_-_Lord_Of_The_Stars

by Unknown

  “We have a cruiser standing by,” he protested.

  “I haven’t the authority to order it into the Ebon Deeps, Samul. You know that.”

  Samul took a deep breath. “We have to create the authority.”

  “Create it?” Sol Houston asked sharply.

  “Or find an enabling regulation.” Samul eyed him unflinchingly. “We have millions of regulations. We have libraries and computers stuffed with them, and more every day. Your legal staff should be able to dig up the right one.”

  “That I could throw into the Regent Administrator’s teeth? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “You’re counseling defiance,” Sol Houston sharply reproved.

  “Regent Administrators come and go, but we have only one empire,” Samul replied simply. The hard gray eyes on the screen watched him piercingly, then abruptly the craggy face showed the shadow of a smile.

  “That’s why I have you on my staff, Samul. You like to get things done.”

  “Then you’ll…”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Sol Houston promised.

  “One thing more.”

  “What is it?” the Overlord asked warily.

  “I want to be on that ship.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Absolutely yes,” Samul returned. He abruptly flipped the switch, watching Sol Houston’s image fade from the screen.

  9

  GULTUR, Lord of the Stars, towered in rage. His powerful globular body

  balanced on the tips of his seven tentacles, his single red eye glared balefully at Gobit, his second-in-command. “You say the humans are aware of the presence of the robots?” he thundered.

  Gobit trembled. “That is so, my lord.”

  “And the human has blocked Zandro from his mind?”

  “Except when he sleeps,” Gobit admitted reluctantly.

  “What manner of creature is this that can shut out a mind master?”

  Gobit said tactfully, “It has to do with differences in the mental structure.”

  “Such a thing is unheard of,” Gultur rasped.

  “Mind Master Zandro can’t explain it, my lord. The human is more powerful than we had suspected.”

  “More powerful than a mind master? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Assuredly not,” Gobit answered quickly.

  The Lord of the Stars drew himself up higher. “Why was I not informed of this sooner?”

  “I was just made aware of it, my lord.”

  “What else were you made aware of?” Gultur demanded coldly. It pleased him to see Gobit flinch.

  “The human has contacted one of his kind across the black abyss,” the second-in-command confessed.

  “That shall be counted against you,” Gultur promised. “How was it allowed to happen?”

  Gobit squirmed uncomfortably. “One of the humans, a telepath, chanced to overhear a conversation with one of the robots,” he explained.

  Gultur felt a quick dread. “Is the entire race telepathic?”

  “Only a few freaks.”

  “Freaks?”

  “That is the way the humans regard them,” Gobit hastened to say. “That is my understanding.”

  “Based on what?”

  “Mind Master Zandro assures me it is so, my lord.”

  “Then it is so,” Gultur stated peremptorily. The statement of a mind master was beyond question. He regarded his aide contemptuously. “Do the humans suspect our intent?”

  “Zandro says not, my lord. They appear a very obtuse race.”

  “In what way?”

  “A race that doesn’t believe greatness can exist outside itself,” Gobit humbly explained. “They are blind to such greatness, even when presented with the evidence. Mind Master Zandro describes it as a culture-centered psychology. Its characteristic is a denial that anything born outside of the culture can be great or even have meaning.”

  “They have yet to learn,” Gultur promised coldly.

  “Assuredly, my lord.”

  “The young human must die immediately.”

  Gobit trembled anew. “He has escaped, my lord.”

  “From Zandro?” Gultur attempted to contain his rage.

  “He has fled from the ship where he was nurtured.”

  “Why has not Zandro destroyed him with the mind power?”

  “He is making the attempt.”

  “Is there any doubt but that it can be done?” Gultur demanded. Again he felt a twinge of apprehension.

  “The young human has learned to erect powerful mind shields,” the second-in-command explained tactfully. “Zandro says he has never encountered such phenomenal mental growth.”

  “Mind shields!” Gultur shuddered. “What of the tracker birds?”

  “He has destroyed two of them, my lord.”

  “How was that possible?”

  “With a primitive spear that is hurled by the elastic power of a bent bough. You might recall that the animals of Xentop tried to use such devices against our nucleonic bolts.”

  “What is being done about it?”

  “Other tracker birds are following him now.”

  “Take no chances,” Gultur curtly instructed. “Have sky hounds dispatched to Zandro immediately.”

  “Yes, my lord.” Gobit lowered his front tentacles, dipping his vast body in a humble bow.

  “Now, this very hour, and report to me when the human has been destroyed,” Gultur thundered. When Gobit had departed to do his bidding, the Lord of the Stars slithered out to the balcony to eye the monument to Dort. Towering against the dusky sky, the giant eye at its apex symbolically scanned the stars.

  Usually, when he viewed the black needle rising from the bleak plain, he would mentally triple its height, conjuring his own record in mokols of stone. Until eternity ended, it would proclaim his own glorious conquests as Lord of the Stars. A billion generations yet unborn would whisper his name with awe.

  But at the moment he felt uneasy. An alien who could erect mental shields against a mind master? Unbelievable! How common were such among the race? Few in number, according to Gobit, but even a few such could pose formidable problems.

  He stared at the fuzzy patch of orange stars, beyond which lay the Planet of Birth. He would like to discuss the possibilities directly with Zandro, but that was not possible. Since his elevation to command of the Eighty-Third Star Army, the prerogative of rank precluded that his mind should ever be searched, hence he never again could speak with a mind master. Not even through the Ikus.

  It was just as well, he reflected. He would hate to have Zandro discern the unease — dread? — which at times, like now, tormented him. Not that dread — fear? — was a weakness; it was the challenge that gave rise to courage. He clung fiercely to that belief.

  But now was the time for action! The resolve strengthened him. The sky hounds would dispose of the young alien quickly enough; and his fleet was ready. He would sow the Wind of Death among the stars; each sun system would add one mokol of stone. Mokol upon mokol upon mokol; billions would die.

  At the entrance to the Hall of the Glorious Dead, he turned back to gaze at the monument.

  Seventy-four mokols were very high indeed.

  Danny’s heart beat furiously. Exhausted and hungry, he desperately clutched his bow as he scanned the rugged country through which he had fled. A twisted rock jungle dotted with gnarled trees, it fell away to the dark blur of the forest plain far below. Off to one side a small stream gurgled musically; his need for water had kept him close to it.

  He searched the scene with anxious eyes, attempting to discern movement. Somewhere down there were the metal birds! From time to time he had spotted them hovering low above the rocks. Several times they had come so close that he had heard the sibilant whisper of whatever it was that powered them. Their small red eyes were a horror in his mind.

  How long had he been running? Forever, he thought. The emerald sun had set twice since he’d fled th
e meadow; now, again, it was hanging low above the horizon. He’d been running, running, running. He had to escape the metal birds! But how long could he go on?

  He looked ahead. The ground rose rapidly, broken by great stone outcrops that gleamed greenishly in the light of the setting sun. It was a tortured

  scape, twisted and broken, in which every tree and shrub fought for survival.

  High up in the distance a jagged ridge crawled against the endless sky. His eyes began to ache, and he turned them from the scene. He couldn’t go on, he thought dully. His legs were too tired. Each step was a torture of bone and muscle. He had to rest. Forcing himself wearily to the edge of the stream, he plunged his head into the cold water, drinking it in great gulps.

  Refreshed, he looked wearily around. Only the gurgling of the stream broke the silence. His eyes swept over a black shadow on the canyon wall opposite him and swept back. A cave! The realization brought a tingle of excitement. He could hide! He forced himself to calmness as he studied it. The entrance was small; he could block it behind him with stones. Rest, sleep — escape from the metal birds! His excitement rose.

  Leaping the stream, he scrambled up to the entrance. It was smaller than he had supposed, scarcely large enough to wriggle into. A cool draft coming from the dark opening told him it had another outlet. He reached in gingerly; the floor was smooth and sandy. He guessed that in time of flood it served as the bed for an underground stream.

  He laboriously dragged several large rocks next to the entrance, then wriggled in feet first, fitting the bow alongside him. The coolness felt good on his skin. Reaching out, he pulled the stones against the opening, banking sand against them until but a sliver of sky remained.

  The cave held a dank, musty odor that was curiously invigorating. Lying in the darkness, he felt the tension drain from his body. The cave was like the ship — small, cool, secure. Water was close at hand, and somehow he would find food. He could live there as long as he had to; the thought was reassuring.

  Hzzzzz…His eyes heavy with sleep, the first sibilant whisper reached him. The sound brought him to instant alertness. Frightened, he stared into the darkness, listening. The wind? He pushed the hope aside. Hzzzzz…The sound came again, echoing in the cave like a muted sigh.

  He peered fearfully out through the narrow opening. Gnarled trees cut a jagged silhouette against the orange stars; off to the side lay the utter blackness of the Ebon Deeps. The nearby rocks and shrubs, caught in the blanket of night, revealed nothing. He sensed movement in the periphery of his eye and jerked his gaze back to the sky; a small shadow glided against the stars.

  A metal bird! His throat constricted in sudden terror. The birds had found him! Hzzzzz…The hissing grew louder; he caught the shadow again, then a second one. Hovering low, they glided in narrowing circles that centered on the mouth of the cave. He fancied that their beady red eyes glared down at him.

  Hastily he scooped sand against the rocks until the last sliver of sky was shut out. They couldn’t get him. Lying in the darkness, his nerves taut and edgy, he realized he had also shut out the sound; the dreadful whisper was gone. His tension subsiding, his tiredness swept back. But he was safe; it was his last thought before he slept.

  “Sleep, Danny, sleep.” The voice came as if in a dream; he struggled to close it from his mind. “Sleep, sleep, sleep.”

  “No!” The shout was torn hoarsely from his lips.

  “Sleep, sleep, sleep.”

  “No!” he shouted again.

  “Now you are sleeping, Danny, sleeping, sleeping, sleeping.” The soothing voice caressed him. “You are fast asleep, Danny.”

  “No, no…” He felt his resistance seeping away.

  “You are fast asleep, Danny, fast asleep.”

  “Asleep,” Danny murmured. Sleep, he needed sleep. Sleep to banish the awful tiredness.

  “Sleep, sleep,” Zandro murmured in his mind. “You are sleeping, sleeping.”

  “I am sleeping…”

  “You will sleep the sleep of death, Danny.”

  “Sleep of death…” A small fragment of Danny’s mind told him to rebel against the thought, but he found himself helpless. Death was peace…

  “I will tell you how, Danny.”

  “Tell me how…”

  “You will focus your whole mind on your heart, Danny. You must will it to stop beating, stop beating, stop beating. Then you will have eternal peace.”

  “Peace…”

  “There will be no more tiredness, only rest.”

  “Rest…” Oh, to rest and sleep. How good Zandro was.

  “Now you will focus your mind.”

  A small protest gathered in the fragments of Danny’s consciousness. “Why do I have to die?”

  “It has been ordered by the Lord of the Stars, Danny.”

  “The Lord of the Stars?” He sensed a touch of awe and wonder. How great he must be. The small protest came back. “But why must I die?”

  “All humans must die, Danny.”

  “All humans?”

  “It has been ordered.”

  “But why?” he protested weakly.

  “That is the decree of the gods, Danny. The Universe belongs to the Kroons.”

  “Kroons?”

  “My race.” Zandro’s words were heavy with pride.

  Danny sensed a deep alarm. “How can he order that?”

  “He speaks for the gods, Danny.”

  “The gods?”

  “The Lord of the Stars is but a servant of the great Kroon Spirit, which in the Dawn of Time rose from the slate-gray seas of Munga,” Zandro intoned. His mind was a gentle caress. “The Kroon Spirit is the personification of the gods. They live in us, act through us.”

  “But I don’t want to die,” he protested.

  “Death is eternal peace, Danny.”

  “No!” He fought to resist.

  “You will die, Danny.”

  “No!” He sensed the edge of consciousness and grappled to retain it. He wouldn’t die! He wouldn’t! The Lord of the Stars couldn’t make him die!

  “Sleep, Danny, sleep.”

  “No!” This time the word came as a scream torn from his lips.

  “Sleep, sleep. You must sleep and focus your mind.”

  “I won’t! I won’t!” He threshed wildly, feeling the terror blossom in his mind. If he died, he’d never see Gylan, never see Arla. Arla! The name exploded like a bombshell in his consciousness. If he could reach Arla…

  “Tommy One! Tommy One!” He screamed the name in his mind.

  “Stop!” Zandro roared.

  “Danny June to Tommy One, Tommy One…” He fought to close Zandro from his mind while at the same time leaving it open for Tommy One. The awful silence! Why didn’t he answer? “Tommy One!”

  “Stop!” The order came like a roaring wind that filled his entire being.

  “Tommy One…” The answer echoed faintly.

  “Danny June calling Arla…” He struggled to hurl the message outward, conscious of Zandro’s overpowering presence. It filled the cave.

  “Break that contact!” Zandro thundered.

  “Danny June calling Arla!” He sent the cry wildly.

  “Break it immediately!” The voice was harsh and strident in his mind. In vain he sought to close it out.

  “I won’t! I won’t!” Danny felt the battering of wills and fought to bolster his strength. “I won’t!” he shouted defiantly.

  “You must break it and die.” Zandro’s voice reverted to a persuasive tone. “Break it, break it.”

  “I won’t die!”

  “Sleep, Danny…”

  “No!” He hurled the word violently outward, conscious of the trembling in his body. “Tommy One — Danny June calling Arla,” he screamed.

  “Sleep, sleep,” Zandro urged. The words were soothing.

  “I won’t!” He battled to prevent himself from sinking back into the deep lethargy he’d known earlier. Rest, sleep, peace — oh, if he could only sleep. Why fig
ht? It was all so futile.

  “You are falling asleep, Danny.”

  “Sleep…”

  “Danny!” The call, high and faint, pierced his mind.

  “Arla, I hear you.” He forced the reply with effort.

  “Danny, what’s wrong?” The question held a frantic wail.

  “I have to die…”

  “No! No!”

  “Break that contact!” Zandro’s roar engulfed him.

  “Shut him out, Danny. Shut him out quick!”

  Shut him out! Yes, that’s what he had to do — shut Zandro out. He struggled to close his mind to the overwhelming sense of presence. Shut him out! Shut him out! Shut him out as he’d shut out the birds. Build a barrier.

  “Danny!” Her voice held a desperate ring.

  “I’m trying!”

  “Break that contact immediately,” Zandro roared again. “Break it! Break it!”

  “Get out of Danny’s mind! Get out! Get out! Get out!” Arla’s command came piercingly.

  “Please get out of my mind,” Danny begged.

  “Don’t say please to that thing!” Arla’s thoughts were stormy. “Make him get out!”

  “Get out! Get out!” Danny shouted. “Get out of my mind!”

  “Get out of Danny’s mind, Zandro. Get out! Get out!” Arla’s command echoed sharply, reinforcing his. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

  Abruptly the silence came. Trembling apprehensively, Danny realized that the overpowering sense of presence was gone. There was just the stillness of the cave.

  “Danny?”

  “He’s gone! He’s gone!”

  “Don’t ever let him come back,” she urged fiercely.

  “He was trying to make me die! He said that all humans had to die. The Lord of the Stars…”

  “Lord of the Stars?” she interrupted apprehensively.

  “He’s the one who ordered it. That’s what Zandro said.” The memories rushed back. “And I found Zandro!”

  “Who…what is he?” she asked faintly. He described what he’d seen at the pool.

  “You can’t let him come back,” she exclaimed forcefully.

  “I can’t keep him out when I sleep.”

  “I’ll stay with you. Together we can keep him out.” Her thoughts rushed excitedly. “Don’t you see? We did it together.”