"But we're not Terrans. We're just semi-civilized beasts in their eyes."
"Another of Adwal's dirty lies," Inver snapped. "If they felt that, would they have asked us to join them as a full-fledged world? No, they would have come here with a fleet of warships of space, and conquered us. They could have, easily, you know. They made no effort to hide the fact that they had such power from the ones who were taken on that inspection trip."
"No, we have no spaceships, and nothing that could stop one," his father admitted. "That's one of the things that has made me hesitate to decide against them—the fact that they have them but did not use them. On the other hand, if we decide not to join, how do we know they won't send their fleet here and...."
"Because they aren't that kind of people. Why, sire, in their history I learned that when the Terrans first started exploring space, one of their great men, named John Snyder, who seems to have had quite a lot of power at the time, promulgated a ruling that says, 'Man must never colonize any planet having inhabitants intelligent enough to show cultural activity and growth'. And that concept has never been broken, and is still in force."
"Why, I never heard that."
"I told you, k'nyer, I have been studying them diligently, and so know much about them."
For the balance of their ride that morning, the two continued their discussion, and Hanlon—working through the ears of the two cavals—listened closely, and learned much.
The two were almost back to the residence when Inver's caval stepped into a hole, and stumbled badly. It wrenched its leg so it could barely stand on it. Inver immediately dismounted and examined the leg as best he could.
"It looks bad, father," he said after a minute or so. "I'll walk the rest of the way, and lead it slowly. It's not too far from here, so you go ahead if you wish."
"Well," slowly, "all right. I'll have the doctor meet you at the stables, and see if the beast can be healed. If not, it should be destroyed to save it pain."
"Yes, I know that would be best, although I dislike to think of it, for this is my favorite."
The Ruler cantered on, and the young man followed slowly, letting the caval hobble along at its own gait. When Inver finally reached the stables, he talked with the head groom, Endar, and with the animal physician, who arrived shortly afterwards.
"I'm not sure," was the doctor's statement after much studying. "I'll try to save it, but I don't know if such an injury will heal or not. The ligament seems to have been torn loose, and being inside the leg it is hard to get at it with medicine. See how badly it has swollen already."
The caval was put into its stall, and after treating it as best he could with the limited knowledge and techniques known, the doctor left.
Hanlon knew about the accident, of course, and had been keeping the caval from feeling too much of the pain. He made it a point to be standing near while the animal was being examined and treated, and was surprised at how little the doctor could do. The Estrellan veterinarian did not even apply hot or cold compresses, nor bandage the swollen leg in any way. Also, apparently, he did not know about hypodermics for injecting medicine into the injured parts.
Later in the afternoon, after their work was done and he had some free time, Hanlon thought more concisely about the matter. If he could help any, he would make a friend of Inver, he felt sure. More than ever he liked the young fellow, whom he decided was a real man in every respect.
But he must be careful not to give himself away—not to display knowledge Estrellans did not know.
Suddenly he recalled the shooting of the fish, and what he had been able to do there. "I wonder if I can help this healing in any way, with my mind?" he pondered.
The other grooms, including Endar, had left the stables for the bunkhouse, so Hanlon was there alone. He sat down near the injured caval's stall, insinuated his mind into that of the animal, and began studying its brain, nerves and muscles. After considerable intensive study he found the way to make its muscles relax—he had already long since established a nerve block so that the caval felt no pain. Now he learned to make those muscles and nerves contract or relax, even to the point of almost causing a temporary paralysis.
Deeper and ever deeper he probed into its physical structure. Especially now, he tried to trace the nervous system connecting with its various glands, looking for confirmation or refutation of a startling concept he had glimpsed.
After much study and experimentation by the trial and error method, he was beginning to find it possible to partially control the increase or decrease of flow of the secretions of its glands—but far from perfectly. For it was an intricate and involved method, necessitating as it did the locating of the nerves that led to and controlled those glands, and then learning how to activate or inhibit them—nor could he be sure it was not chance only the few times he made them operate as he wished.
Yet he watched carefully to see the results of the activations of each gland, and finally believed he had found the one that was the master gland in charge of the body's healing functions. He now worked on this, trying to direct the added secretions through the blood stream and into the caval's injured parts.
Soon, even though his forcings were spasmodic and infrequent, he could begin to perceive that this was actually the way it should be done—the wounded ligaments and flesh and muscles showed signs of starting to heal a bit faster than nature was doing it.
His deep concentration was rudely broken by a heavy hand on his shoulder, and an angry voice saying, "What d'you think you're doing here?"
Looking up, he saw that it was Endar. Hanlon recalled the portion of his mind from that of the caval.
"Oh," he scrambled to his feet and fixed his face in a look of deep concern. "I was just studying Inver's poor caval, and trying to figure out a way to help cure its leg."
The head groom sneered. "I suppose you think you know more about it than I do, or the doctor."
Hanlon was certain he knew far more than the groom, and probably things the doctor had never even guessed. But he kept his voice humble and almost servile. "I didn't say or mean that, nyer. But I have had some experience with animals, as I told you and the Ruler, and I've helped cure many injured ones. Since it was my off time, I didn't think I was overstepping my place to see what I could do."
"You been handling it?" Endar asked sharply.
"Oh, no, nyer, I was just sitting here thinking about it, and trying to remember all I had learned or heard about how such injuries have been healed. Then I was going to come and suggest them to you."
"Well, it's none of your business, so get out and leave it alone," was the surly command ... and Hanlon left.
But that night, after he was sure the others were all sound asleep, he sent his mind back to the stables and into the brain of Inver's injured mount.
In its spaceship the strange being was feeling a depth of frustration almost unknown to one of its cold, logical race. Its "interrogation" of the prisoners had yielded surprising but already-deduced information. In its rational yet impersonal way the being was somewhat regretful for the death of the one entity. Not because of the death itself, but because there was no logical reason why the entity should be dead, and therefore unable to yield further data.
The one still remaining imprisoned had given up much additional knowledge of a kind that had shocked the being, for it told of conditions never before considered as obtaining in the galaxy. Yet the being did not see how that information could help in this present project—it was, in fact, decidedly inimical to that project's success.
As for the one that had been allowed to "escape," that one had led to the unreadable mind as hoped. Although still kept controlled and UNsane, the being was allowing that one to remain in what it considered a safe hiding place, rather than continually on the run.
But even though the being had now been following that enigmatic entity's body, through its powerful, multiphased scanners, it still could not make any sort of contact with that mind. Thus it did not yet know whether or not that mind was like the other three, or the two that came occasionally and briefly in their ship of space. Under its easily-penetrated disguise, the entity appeared to be like the others, but that could or could not mean anything worth knowing.
It was all very puzzling, and the alien being came as near feeling anger as was possible to one of its phlegmatic nature. But it coldly resolved that that one must, also, die ... and soon.
Darkness Made No Difference To George Hanlon in dealing with animal minds, for it was not with his eyes that he "saw" what was inside them. In this particular instance he was grateful for the dark—it made concentration far easier.
He made himself comfortable on his bed, then fitted his mind to that of the wounded animal in the stable. Deeper and ever deeper he probed, tracing line and connectors and synapses carefully. A stray thought brought a grin to his face. "I bet I'm learning things no veterinarian ever learned about animals."
Then he sobered quickly. "Perhaps I should write this up for them—the physiology and endocrinology of it, I mean." He filed the thought away in his mind for future reference. It would be a great contribution to those branches of science, he felt—IF he was successful.
Now he traced nerves, blood vessels, cells, glands. He bored in with every newly-awakened sense alert to catch each particle of new knowledge. He began to learn even more of how the healing and regeneration of cells and tissues worked ... and after awhile he achieved real beginnings of success.
The things he had been able to do that afternoon, with his first studies, had started the healing of the caval's leg somewhat faster than nature ordinarily did it, but not much more. Now, however, he was able more surely and quickly to continue that work, and by the time he noticed the false dawn lightening the night a bit, and he knew he must get some sleep, the injury was almost entirely healed.
"What a surprise Endar's going to get when he looks at that leg in the morning," he chuckled. For the swelling was reduced, the inflammation all gone, and the caval was able to stand and walk on the foot without limping or apparent pain. In fact, from his ability to read the beast's mind, Hanlon knew the pain was all gone. If nothing happened to irritate it, the leg would be as good as new in a day or so without further attention.
Hanlon was sleeping so soundly the next morning that Endar had trouble waking him, and that did not help in dispelling the anger and distrust in him the head groom knew. Hanlon tried to work hard enough, and was careful to appear willing and ready even for the mean, dirty jobs Endar assigned him, so as not to make the groom any more irritated than he already was.
Shortly after daylight Inver came to the stables to see how his favorite caval was getting along. He and Endar were very much surprised to see that the animal was apparently entirely well, and that the leg showed no signs of the injury of the day before.
"I can't understand it," the young man shook his head. "It must not have been as badly hurt as we thought."
Endar may have had his doubts—and Hanlon saw him throw a quick, wondering glance in his direction—but the groom wisely said nothing, since he had no proof ... and such a thought was ridiculous, anyway.
When it came time for the Ruler's morning ride, Hanlon was still working inside. But Elus Amir asked to see the new man, and Endar had to call him out.
"Ah, my savior," Amir said as Hanlon appeared. "Are they treating you well, Lona?"
Hanlon bent the knee. "Oh, yes, k'nyer. I have everything to make me happy here, and I love the work. And Endar has been most kind about showing me around, and helping me learn all my duties here so I may serve you better."
"Good. I'd like to have you ride with me this morning," the Ruler said as he mounted.
Hanlon glanced at Endar. He could see that the head groom was not pleased by this, though he said nothing, merely handing the reins of the second mount to Hanlon, then turning away. Hanlon was quickly astride, and the two riders started off at a brisk canter.
As soon as they were well away from the residence, Amir slowed down and motioned Hanlon to come to his side. "Now, tell me all about the Eastern Continent—what conditions are like there, and what the people are saying about things in general."
Hanlon dredged his mind for any and all information he could remember from his studies of the reels of Estrella furnished him by the secret service, as well as what he had learned from others since he came to this planet.
For nearly a penta-period he told what he knew, then said, "One thing is quite noticeable there, k'nyer. The ordinary people I talked to over there—of course, I don't know any of the important ones—all seem very anxious for our world to join the Terran Federation of Planets."
"They are?" the Ruler seemed surprised, but interested. "I thought there was quite a bit of sentiment against it."
Hanlon shrugged as though it was of no importance. "Oh, you hear a lot of talk going around that we would lose our freedom, and that the people of the Federation just want to enslave us, but no one I talked to seemed really to believe it. They think someone there is putting out a lot of propaganda because of some personal reasons. The ordinary people think they would benefit greatly by such a union with more advanced people. One of our newssheets printed a copy of the Federation Agreement, and it states very clearly that all worlds are to have full right to choose their own form of government, and that they keep their full ... their full...."
"Sovereignty," the Ruler supplied the missing word.
"Thank you, k'nyer ... their full sovereignty at all times. It also went on to say that all the other worlds do just as they please, and that the only purpose of the Federation is to encourage trade and the spread of knowledge among the various planets in an equitable way, and yet see to it that they never get into war with each other, by settling all possible disputes before they get to the explosive point."
Elus Amir was silent for long minutes, thinking seriously, and Hanlon followed those thoughts as they chased themselves across the screen of the Ruler's mind. Finally Amir raised his head. "Er ... yes, yes, that's all true enough, Lona. But if it is so, why is there such a seemingly-determined effort to persuade me and the people here that it is not true?"
"May I speak my thoughts, k'nyer?"
"Eh? Why, of course," Amir looked up in surprise. "That's why I wanted you to come along today."
"Well, sire, it looks to me—and please remember that I'm just a simple countryman, and not used to politics or statesmanship—but it looks to me as though someone wanted to keep us by ourselves so they could run this world the way they want to, and be able to make themselves rich or powerful at the expense of our common people."
"But that's impossible as long as our government is on its guard."
"Exactly, k'nyer. It could not be done as long as you are Ruler, but suppose you...."
Elus Amir's head snapped up irritably at this unfinished warning. "The Second-In-Line is just as jealous of Estrella's welfare as I am," he snapped. "It would not happen under him either."
But Hanlon, reading the Ruler's surface thoughts, knew he must keep quiet for the moment. For Amir was disturbed by hearing this idea from a simple groom. He did not want to give it credence, but doubt had been forced into his mind, first by his son, and now by this man.
But before he could formulate any decisive answer, Hanlon decided boldly to jolt him again.
"I have a friend, k'nyer," he reached into his inner pocket and brought out some papers, "who has been actively studying this matter for some time. He has found out a number of things I am sure will interest you, and about which I doubt very much you know."
The Ruler looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"
"You know that there has been an unprecedented crime wave all over our planet recently," Hanlon said, and Amir nodded sorrowfully. "My friend has found proof that, while a lot of people have been engaged in those criminal activities, there is a complete program that is being carefully carried on by a staff of head men, each with his own group of lower criminals, but all headed by one...."
"By the Terrans—it is well known here."
"No, k'nyer, not by the Terrans. The real leader of this campaign of destruction is the same man who is the leader of the opposition to Estrella's joining the Federation."
"And that man?" the Ruler snapped, but his face was drawn, as though he already knew ... but would not let himself believe.
"That leader, k'nyer, is Adwal Irad."
"Prove it, or by Zappa I'll have you executed," Amir's voice crackled. "Have a care, Lona, and don't try my patience. I don't allow myself to be talked to in that manner."
"I crave pardon, sire, if I have spoken out of line. But you asked me for my reactions and knowledge, and I must be truthful."
"Whatever gave you such foolish notions? And who are you, anyway? A countryman such as you claim to be would not know about such things ... or use such precise language."
"You might be surprised, k'nyer, if you knew how many of your humbler subjects are vastly interested in the welfare of our world, and who read and think much about these things, even though they know they cannot fully understand them. As to how I got such ideas, the answer is, many things. And facts collected by my friend. Including this little book," handing him Esbor's notebook, "which was found in ... well, in a certain place. It contains a lot of information we were sure you would want to study, which is the reason he asked me to give it to you if I got the chance."
The Ruler took the book, opened and glanced through it. Hanlon could see the start of surprise he made, and read the thoughts that flashed through the Ruler's mind as he saw some of the notations. During the remainder of the ride, now at a slow walk, there was complete silence, until they were nearing the residence's courtyard. Then Amir looked at Hanlon, a shrewd look on his face.
"You're a curious fellow, Lona. Who are you, really?"
"One of the many who have the interests of yourself and this world very much at heart," Hanlon said honestly. "Please do not ask me more, but believe that we are honest and sincere. Your son has many friends ..." he stopped, letting it go at that, knowing the Ruler's memory would flash back to the talk with Inver the day before, and hoping Amir would not pursue his questioning.
Elus Amir began studying Hanlon closely, an examination the young man knew might quickly disclose his imposture. He made his caval suddenly shy away, and took several moments controlling it enough so he could ride back to the Ruler's side—but stayed a bit further behind than he had been before.
As he had hoped, this maneuver had given Amir time to think. "Very well," the Ruler said, "I'll not inquire too closely at the moment, although you may be sure," more sternly now, "that I shall be on my guard to know if you are really working for me or not."
He was silent a moment, then added slowly, "But as to what you have said, and this book ... well, I promise to study them thoroughly."
Hanlon thanked Elus Amir for his courtesy to a humble groom. "And thank you for the great privilege of riding with you, and talking to you. I have always felt, k'nyer," he made bold to add, "that we have a truly great Ruler. Now," he smiled sincerely, "I am more sure of it than ever."
"Why, thank you, Lona. I do try to watch out for the best interests of our people."
"A groom should not presume to advise his Ruler, but I feel emboldened to say that your people would be glad if you decide to join the Terran Federation," Hanlon said humbly, then added more earnestly, "and I beg you, sire, watch out for yourself. There are human tamous abroad."
The Ruler looked startled, but said nothing to this, although he became very thoughtful as he left. Hanlon, except for one point, was well content with his morning's work, as he led the cavals back to the stable.
For Hanlon had so much wanted to tell Amir how he could know for a certainty who among his attendants and guards was really trustworthy, but did not dare mention it at this time. It would have been fairly easy for Hanlon to be inconspicuously present—perhaps hidden by a screen—while the Ruler called his guards and servants in one by one and questioned them. For Hanlon could then have read their minds or surface thoughts, and undoubtedly have been able to tell which ones, if any, were lying. But to have even mentioned such a thing would have been to reveal too much that he was not yet ready to have known.
"I'll have to hang around the guards as much as possible, and study their minds for any traitorous thoughts," he decided. "Especially, I want to know if any of them are Irad's tools."
Endar was surly when Hanlon brought the mounts into the stable, although he did nothing overt as the young man carefully rubbed down the cavals, and returned them to their stalls.
But Endar did come up then and ask, "What did Amir have to talk to you about?"
"We did very little talking," Hanlon answered with apparent truthfulness. "He asked me a few questions about Lura and the Eastern Continent, but I told him I was just a farm worker and didn't know much about general conditions. That seemed to disappoint him, and he said nothing more."
"But I saw him talking to you as he dismounted, and you were answering him."
"Yes, he was kind enough to say he enjoyed the ride, and that the cavals were in fine condition. I told him that was largely due to you, that you were careful to see that they were well cared for, and that we kept the stables clean."
"That reminds me, how did it happen that Inver's caval was all healed this morning?" the man's eyes bored suspiciously into Hanlon's.
"Why, I don't know," he answered evasively, his face bland. "I suppose it was the medicine and treatment the doctor gave it. He must really be good—but then, he wouldn't be the Ruler's animal physician if he wasn't, would he?"
"Hmmpff," Endar swung away, but his attitude and surface thoughts told Hanlon that he was only partially satisfied. He had no real idea, of course, of what had happened. Such a thing was just beyond his simple comprehension.
George Hanlon could not know it, of course, but as soon as the Ruler had returned to his rooms, he settled himself comfortably in his favorite chair, and gave orders that he was not to be disturbed. Then he set his mind to considering every aspect of this curious business, and to studying more thoroughly the papers and that notebook of Esbor's, with its disquieting notations.
Finally he called in the man who was not only a sort of confidential secretary, but a life-long friend and confidant whom he trusted implicitly. He gave this man definite orders as to certain investigations to be made at once.
During the balance of the day, while this man was gone, Amir's mind was a turmoil of doubt. And worry—for Hanlon's final suggestion that the Ruler's life was in great danger, made him pause to think. Of course, Rulers were always fair targets for assassins, even on this world where such things were very rare, indeed. But ... Lona had hinted that this was no ordinary assassination he was to watch out for, but a part of the so-called "plot" of a group who were out to keep Estrella from joining the Terran-led Federation.
And if the groom was right, then how safe was Amir? Even in his own residence ... was his personal guard loyal? Or had the conspirators ... supposing there was such a group...?
The Ruler was still reluctant to believe Irad was at the head of any such organization, or even connected with it in any way, despite the mounting evidence ... including more than one entry in Esbor's revealing notebook. Had these conspirators, whoever they might be, been able to infiltrate members into his hitherto highly-trusted household? Wait, come to think of it, there were several new servants and guards, come to work there within the past half year or so!
Elus Amir had never heard of truth serums, or lie-detectors, for such things had not yet been discovered or invented on Estrella. Nor did he even suspect that it was possible to read a man's mind.
Now the Ruler's thoughts strayed back to that enigmatic groom. Just who and what was he, anyway? He certainly was not a common, simple countryman, as he pretended to be. And the way he had met the Ruler, saved his life and obtained work here. Looking back now Amir could see that it was all too pat.
Was he one of those "friends" Inver had spoken about, who were working with his son to find out the truth about whatever it was that was going on here? It was apparent he was part of a group of some kind, or else his talk of a "friend" who had obtained that damning notebook was false, and Lona himself had managed to get possession of it.
Acting on a sudden impulse, Amir sent a servant to ask Inver to come to see him. When the young man arrived, the Ruler looked at him a moment.
"Just one question, my son. Are some of those 'friends' you spoke to me about yesterday numbered among the residence servants or guards?"
Inver looked startled, but his reply was patently honest. "Yes, father. We have been checking the others carefully, and when we find those we distrust in the least, we manage to get them discharged, and others we can trust brought in to replace them. Why?"
But the Ruler did not answer that last. He merely said, "Thank you, Inver. That is all for the present."
Now the young man really was astonished at this abrupt dismissal, but left without further words.
Elus Amir felt better now. He had always considered himself a fairly good judge of character—although he was beginning to wonder now if all that was being told him about Irad was true, for if so, then he had made a bad mistake in judging the Second-In-Line, for he had always had full confidence in his integrity.
But about this Lona? He sent a servant to bring Endar, the head groom, to see him. When the man arrived, Amir asked him many questions as to what Endar thought of the new man. He realized almost from the first that Endar was jealous of Lona's popularity with the Ruler, but Endar produced no actual facts against the new stableman, and grudgingly had to admit that he was a good and willing worker.
Yes, Amir now decided, whatever else this Lona might be, he was a true patriot, trying to serve the best interests of his country and his Ruler in every way he could. There was a straight-forwardness about him that Amir liked, and evidently Inver also had confidence in him.
Yet there was a tantalizingsomethingabout Lona's looks that had the Ruler a bit puzzled, although it was more subconsciously than consciously.
For the time being, he decided, he would allow Lona to remain here. It would be easier to keep watch on him here than if he let him go and the groom should disappear entirely. Also, Amir determined to have further talks with this strange man ... and with Inver, about the latter's "group of friends."
Finally, some time after dinner that evening, the Ruler's secretary came back to report. "I have examined the news records, k'nyer, and the first mention I can find of anything like propaganda against our world's accepting the invitation of the Federation Council was printed in the Stearran papers about a week after the group returned from that trip made to visit the Terran planets."
"Hmmm, not until then, eh ... but that seems to tally with some other things I've heard. Still, it is curious. Another point is still bothering me, and I'd like your thoughts on it. The Terrans evidently discovered us long before we knew it, and studied us even to the extent of learning our language, while still keeping us in ignorance of their existence. It was this apparent stealth that has led many of us to wonder if they are sincere, or if there is some underlying motive of conquest behind them. What do you think?"
"As you know, k'nyer," the secretary reached up to tug at his beard while thinking and replying, "I was permitted to be present at the meetings you had with the Federation representatives, and I was very much impressed with them. I have also talked much with those who went on the trip to the Terran planets. I cannot conceive the possibility that these Federationists are practicing duplicity. Besides, let us consider our own actions in such a case. Suppose we had space travel, and found a new world inhabited with intelligent beings. Would we not, if possible, study them thoroughly before trying to make contact with them?"
Elus Amir shrugged, and his answer was to the first part of his friend's speech. "That might depend upon how well they were able to conceal their true feelings—upon how good actors they were."
"Perhaps, but...."
"Never mind that for now. What about the rumors concerning my son, Inver?"
"Those were much harder to check, but in my own mind there is no recollection of ever having heard of any such thing until the past year. However, I have heard reports of it since, and it seems to be spreading rapidly all over."
"And you never reported this to me?"
The secretary hung his head. "I did not believe it, sire, and I didn't like to worry...."
"It's all right. So it was just about a year ago that the opposition to our joining the Federation appeared, and also these rumors."
"Why ... why, yes, sire. Do you connect the two?"
Amir did not answer that last question. He sat very quietly as to body, but with mind active and ill at ease. After a bit he raised his eyes and asked suddenly, "Just what is your personal opinion of Adwal Irad. Speak freely—I want the truth."
The secretary's eyes clouded, but he did not hesitate. "I have noticed a great change in the Second-In-Line, growing more pronounced recently. As though something were preying on his mind. His actions have become ... well, 'shifty' is the nearest word I can think of to describe it. I no longer trust him unreservedly, I am sorry to say."
"Hmmm," Amir thought about that for some time. "I have had the same thing told me by others these past few days," he said at last. "I wish I knew...."
"May I suggest, k'nyer, that you invite him to ride with you tomorrow, and study him; ask him leading questions, and so on?"
"That might not be a bad idea. I'll do it. Send him an invitation in my name, please."
After the note had been received, and while Irad was changing his plans so as to accept this command, he suddenly seemed to get a feeling that he must do a certain thing. The Second-In-Line recoiled in horror. He did not want to comply—did not even want to think such a thought. This was far worse than the other things he had been forced to do in the past months. But something ... he could not imagine what, nor why ... was forcing him to do this, as it had the others.
Reluctantly, fighting with all his will not to do what he somehow had to do, he sent word to several of his men and, when they arrived at his home, gave them explicit instructions. They seemed surprised, and reluctant, but he insisted and, somewhat to their surprise, the plan soon seemed like a good one.
The next morning Hanlon was told to take two cavals out to the mounting block, for Adwal Irad was to ride with the Ruler that day. As the two men came out of the residence and Hanlon got his first good look at the Second-In-Line for some time, he was thunderstruck at the man's appearance—it was so changed from when he had seen him the other times.
Irad's face was drawn and the red of his skin was an unhealthy hue. Deep lines were beginning to show in his face, the eyes were so dim and lack-lustre, the mouth so drawn, that Hanlon wondered if Irad was ill, or had been these past few days.
For the one who had passed highest in all his tests from among those eligible in his generation as to knowledge and fitness for the position of Second-In-Line, and successor to the Rulership, such a breakdown seemed incredible.
Hanlon invaded Irad's mind to see if he could learn why all this was. But at first touch there seemed something wrong with it ... as though there was a block or barrier there in that mind unlike any he had ever before found. It seemed even worse than it had been before when he had tested that mind—and he wondered anew what it could possibly be. He could still read Irad's surface thoughts, but the "feel" of the man's mind was different and disturbing.
Hanlon's mind-scanning, however, was just in time to catch the partial thought, "... this the fellow? He'll bear watching."
It was not much to go on, but Hanlon instantly became more alert. "What in Snyder's name does that mean?" he asked himself. "Wish I had some way of watching this bozo when he isn't around me."
But he did not know of any way it could be done, for he could not very well leave the palace grounds while he was working here as a groom, to spy in person upon Irad's coming and goings, and he knew of no animal or bird kept in the home of the Second-In-Line.
"Wonder what became of Ebony?" Hanlon thought parenthetically. "Hope he found a way to get out of Yandor's house, and that he has a new, good home."
And this brought up the sternly-repressed memory of his father. Oh, how he wanted to drop everything and go hunt for his dad. But he had already thought the matter through, and knew his duty kept him at his work—work that was far more important than one man's liberty. Yes, his mind knew that, but his heart did not.
But Hanlon could and did keep in touch with the two men through the minds of their cavals as they rode that morning, even as he returned to his work in the stables.
And it was well he did so. For hardly were they outside the gates when Irad began again to argue against Estrella's joining the Federation. But today his so-called evidence met stiffer opposition than formerly. For the Ruler had been thinking more seriously than before, and was studying what Irad said with that in mind.
The things Hanlon—as Lona, the groom—had said had been disturbing. At first Amir had been tempted to dismiss them as ridiculous, even though they more or less echoed what his own son, Inver, had told him. But that damning notebook and its entries was something the Ruler could not dismiss, nor the reports and comments of his life-long friend and respected secretary. He was still undecided—but he was no longer to be duped by sincere-seeming words.
Now, as the two men rode along, Amir was remembering those things and judging each statement Irad made with what he had heard.
And SSM George Hanlon, "listening in" via the minds and senses of the two cavals he was controlling, shivered a bit in the distant stables. He felt a premonition ... but could not deduce what, nor how, nor even if. But he determined to keep closer watch than ever, and so tightened his control of the two steeds cantering along that dusty road several miles away.
As he had found he was able to do, the portions of his mind in each of the animals was, in a large sense, complete and able to act of and by itself. Yet both portions were connected with each other, and with the balance of his mind in his own brain, by a thin thread of consciousness.
He had never quite gotten used to the sensation of apparently being in several places at the same time—of being several distinct individualities. He still remembered the thrill he had known when it was first demonstrated, and the times it had saved him. Yet it was a weird feeling, even though he had found how wonderfully it could and did help him in the important work assigned him by the secret service high command.
Only a few minutes later, however, he was glad he had the power. The Ruler and Irad were passing a small wood, when suddenly several other cavalmen came racing from it, and surrounded them. Two of the new men—all of whom were masked—caught the bridles of the two animals from the residence, and halted them abruptly.
"What is the meaning of this?" Elus Amir cried imperiously, apparently more angry than frightened.
But Hanlon, so far distant he could not possibly get to the place personally, in time to be of any help, was worried and scared. This attack had all the earmarks of assassination and, knowing what he knew, he was sure it was intended as such.
He must do something, but quick.
Dropping his pitchfork, he raced into the tackroom where he knew there was a cot. Throwing his body down on this, he sent all the remainder of his mind out to contact and control the cavals of the newcomers—working outward from the two he was already controlling that were at the scene.
He did not have mind enough to fully take over all of them at once, for cavals had potentially much mind-power, and four or five could absorb all his.
However, by temporarily dropping control of Amir's animal, he was able to take over enough regulation to overcome the commands of the riders. He made the horses of four of the assassins, those holding flameguns, rear back and begin fighting their riders. They pitched and bucked and shortly started dashing off on a wild runaway gallop across the meadow, in different directions. He impressed on each caval's mind as well as he could that it must keep on running, no matter what was done to stop it.
Then he wrenched control from their minds and sent it into the other four animals. He found he was just in time. One of the men, who had been holding Amir's caval—Hanlon could see through its eyes—was drawing his flamegun.
Hanlon made this caval rear suddenly, pitching the man off onto the road. The animal swivelled about while in the air and landed its heavy feet on the prone body. It kicked and pawed the helpless gangster until there was nothing left but a battered and bloody mass.
The remaining attacker's caval was, meanwhile, racing off across the meadow in much the same runaway fashion as the ones that had preceded it. When it was well away, Hanlon withdrew control.
Meanwhile, he had been watching carefully through the eyes and ears of the two steeds that bore the Ruler and the Second-In-Line, what they were doing and saying.
Through Irad's mount he could see the look of surprise and fright that had come upon the Ruler's face. Fright, Hanlon rightly guessed, at Amir's near approach to death, surprise that the attack had been made at all, and especially at the unbelievable manner of his deliverance.
"What could possibly have made all those cavals start running away just at the crucial moment?" he asked Irad, whom he did not yet suspect. "And even more amazing, the way that one threw and then so savagely killed its rider, yet is now standing quietly there, munching grass at the roadside?"
But both Amir, and Hanlon—who saw it through the Ruler's caval's eyes—saw the look of hatred and rage that came onto the face of the Second-In-Line, giving it almost the appearance of a completely different person. Amir was so shocked by it that for a moment he could not speak—could only stare in open-mouthed amazement. Hanlon too was startled, momentarily failing to watch the actions of Irad.
And in that instant the conspirator tried to act. From a hidden pocket in his clothing he drew a flamer, and aimed it at the Ruler.
"Maybe this will spoil my plans," he snarled, "but by Zappa, you die anyway."
But even as he was speaking, and while he was pressing the stud in the gun's handle, Hanlon snapped himself into awareness, and made Irad's mount rear back and wheel on its hind legs, while at the same time he forced the Ruler's caval to dodge to one side.
But he was not quick enough. There was a flash of flame, a stench of burning cloth and flesh, and a hastily-suppressed groan, all clearly apparent through the cavals' senses, that told the distant Hanlon that Amir had been hit. He felt the Ruler reel in his saddle, and hoped the blast was not fatal.
But he had no time then save for an incidental inspection, despite the abilities of his divided mind. For he was intent on trying to make Irad's caval unseat its rider, so that he might have the beast trample the conspirator. Even so he could feel Amir—through the senses of the steed the Ruler was riding—clutch the pommel with both hands to hold himself on his mount's back.
But Adwal Irad was an excellent cavalman. He managed to keep his seat, but was too busy with this either to look to see if his shot had killed his Ruler, or to fire another. In a moment he had to drop the gun, anyway, in order to use both hands in trying to quiet the raging animal beneath him.
For the caval was rearing, bucking, sun-fishing—every unusual maneuver Hanlon's agile mind was able to make it perform. It did things no caval, and no Estrellan, had ever heard of before. Through its mind Hanlon could feel the cruel whipping Irad was giving it, and this made both Hanlon and the beast—never more than half-tame at best—viciously angry and more determined than ever to get rid of the burden.
Realizing at last that he could not unseat so skillful a rider, Hanlon changed his tactics. He made the caval start off on a dead run—but into the woods, not across the meadow as the others had done. "Maybe it will run under a low branch and knock Irad off his back," he hoped.
But he was worried about Amir, and turned most of his mind back to seeing how the Ruler was faring. He knew the man was still astride, and with part of his mind he could read pain, but knew Amir was not fatally injured. Hanlon made his mount turn back toward the residence, and at its gentlest speed hasten back until he saw the servants come running out to take care of their master.
Knowing the Ruler was now in safe hands, Hanlon was free to think of his own situation.
He opened his eyes ... and stared with growing astonishment at totally unfamiliar surroundings.
Jerkily he sat up on the bunk on which his body was now lying. His eyes roved about the small, stone-walled room, trying to figure out where he was ... and why.
He had gone into the familiar tackroom of the stables, he knew, to lie down on the cot there while he sent all of his mind out of his body to contact and control the cavals of the would-be assassins. He guessed he had been "gone" for about half an hour. What had happened in the meantime?
He got up and went across the small room to a heavy wooden door, which he found to be locked. He had to stand on tiptoes to look through the small, barred window in it. But his only view was of a narrow corridor, on the other side of which was another' stone wall containing, in the limited portions he could see to either side, three doors similar to the one behind which he was confined.
"Looks like I'm in thejuzgado," he grimaced. "Wonder why, and how?"
He called out, in hopes someone would come and explain. But repeated calls brought no one, nor any response from the other cells. "Must be no one else here," he thought, and went back to lie down on the bunk.
There he used his special talents, sending his mind outside and hunting for some bird or animal through whose eyes he could try to discover where he was.
He finally contacted a bird, and soon discovered he was in a small stone building at one of the farther corners of the residential grounds. There did not seem to be any guards hanging about the outside. Hanlon made the bird fly up and hover near one of the windows, and peer inside. No one there, either, nor any to be seen through either of the other windows that opened to the outer wall.
He sent the bird higher until he could see the entire palace grounds and thus orient himself. Then he flew it to the stables.
Endar was talking to two other grooms, and seemed in high spirits. As the bird found a perch close to the little group he heard Endar saying, "... drunk, so I had the guards arrest him."
"Never knew he drank," one of the stablemen said.
"I was surprised, myself, but he was dead to the world, and I couldn't rouse him."
But Hanlon could detect, in the man's voice and attitude, that Endar felt he had achieved his revenge for all the fancied wrongs Hanlon (as Lona) had done or contemplated doing to him.
Satisfied for the time being, although not too happy at the situation in which he found himself, Hanlon withdrew his mind from the bird, and twisted his body into a more comfortable position on the bunk. There was so much he had to think about, and now that he was undisturbed was a splendid time.
He felt confident that the Ruler, Elus Amir, knew the truth about Adwal Irad and the conspiracy, and would no longer hesitate about joining the Federation.
"He might, though, at that," Hanlon thought seriously. "Especially if he happens to get it into his noggin that we Terrans were back of all that has happened. It's a dirty shame he doesn't understand us better—or that we don't know their ways of thinking better. But then, that's the cause of half the troubles between individuals, nations, races and worlds—they simply don't understand the basic motivations of the other fellow. But about Amir—I wonder if now isn't the time to prod him a bit? If—or as soon as—I get out of here, I'll try someway to get in touch with the Federation, and suggest we have the ambassadors come back and talk to him again. He ought to be ripe now."
It was only after some time that he remembered to wonder if Irad had been hurt or killed by his runaway caval. "I should have stayed in its mind until I knew if he got home or what."
Hanlon again sought out a bird, and when he was in control of its mind, sent it winging across the roofs and the country-side to the home of the Second-In-Line. When it got there, nothing could be seen to indicate that anyone was at home, nor was anyone visible when the bird peered through each of the windows.
Hanlon perched the bird on a tree-limb while he thought seriously for some moments. Then he sent the bird on the Ovil Esbor's house. "Maybe I can pick up a clue there."
But, as soon as the bird started looking through windows, Hanlon knew he had uncovered more than a clue. For Irad was there, talking to three or four men.
Hanlon wanted very much to hear their conversation. But how? The bird hunted in vain, but could find no open door or window by which it could enter. Nor were there open chimneys as are so common on Terran worlds, for the Estrellans covered their smoke-and-fume vents with fine screens.
Hanlon made the bird perch on a tree-limb and go to sleep. Then he sent that portion of his mind from its brain, seeking some small animal, rodent or insect inside the house. He finally found one of their rat-things in its hole beneath the foundation. He took over its mind, wincing as he did so at the vicious, stark ferocity there. But he made it scamper through the walls until it came to the room where the conspirators were talking. The rat had already gnawed an entrance hole through the bottom of the wall there, and Hanlon had it crouch just inside, listening.
It took him only a few seconds to realize that the angry Irad must have told the others about their strange fiasco that morning, and that they were planning how they could finish the thing they had started.
"I don't dare go back to the palace, myself, for some time, at least," Irad scowled blackly. "I lost my head and gave the whole thing away back there, I know. Came right out and told Amir I was going to kill him. Who'd have guessed those fool cavals would act the way they did?"
"There's something mighty funny about that, Adwal," one of the men said in a puzzled tone that almost contained a hint of accusation. "One caval could quite easily have become frightened at something, or taken it into its silly head to bolt. You never can tame or train 'em completely. But you said all of your group did the same thing. That just doesn't sound right to me. What made them do it, just at the wrong time, and spoil your plans?"
Hanlon could hear the Second-In-Line laugh sneeringly. "You suggesting magic of some sort, Ovil?"
"I'm not suggesting anything—I'm just asking," and now the man's voice carried even more of suspicion and accusation. "It all sounds mighty strange and unbelievable to me. We'd like to know more about it."
There was a dangerous sharpness in Adwal Irad's voice. "Are you questioning the truth of my report, Esbor?"
"I'm not doubting you ... yet. But there's something going on here that looks peculiar, to say the least, and we want to know all about it. That assassination was planned so carefully. And all the men with you were good riders. It just doesn't seem possible that all of them should have lost control of their cavals at exactly the same time. And that business about the animal Yllo was riding—throwing him and then killing him, as you reported."
Hanlon, through the rat's ears, could hear the other men muttering agreement to this.
Irad sprang to his feet, his voice shrill. "You calling me a liar, Esbor?"
"Not exactly, but I do think we deserve a better explanation of your failure than that silly story. We're all in this, too, and our lives are more at stake than yours, since you're Second...."
"You won't have to worry about your life any more," Irad screamed, and almost too swiftly to follow he yanked out his flamegun and cindered the politician's body before any of the others could object or stop him. As the man's body—what was left of it—fell to the floor, Irad swung his gun about menacingly, covering the others, who had risen in fright.
"Any of the rest of you phidis want to call me a liar?" he rasped.
"No, of course not, Adwal," one of them spoke in a placating manner. "We've never doubted you."
"Anybody with any sense could figure out that you really tried to kill Amir," another said. "Why, look. You're the one who started all this, and you sure wouldn't have worked so hard, or spent so much on this campaign, if you hadn't intended going through with it."
"That's right. What happened was just some tough luck. And Esbor was getting ideas that were bigger than he was. So let's forget what's passed, and settle down to planning something else, and making sure it's fool-proof this time."
But Hanlon, disgusted as he was at the way they truckled to Irad, afraid of their skins, touched their minds and read the wonder they felt as to what had so changed Irad this past year. He had always been ambitious and, since being designated Second-In-Line, somewhat inclined to be dictatorial and overbearing.
But, their puzzled thoughts said, he had never been vicious, or displayed the killing instinct he was now showing. Too, his looks, his aging, worried them. They shook their heads with anxiety, as they began making new plans.
It was some two hours later when Hanlon, in his own body, heard steps outside, and the sound of a key in his prison door. It opened, and one of the palace guard officers stood in the doorway.
"Well, you're awake," he said. "You sober now?"
"I never was drunk," Hanlon snapped, sitting erect to give his thought-out alibi. "I was working there in the stables, and felt myself getting faint. I managed to stagger into the tackroom, where I knew there was a cot—and that's all I remember until I found myself here."
"The head groom said you were drunk, and had us arrest you and bring you here. But you don't look like a man who had been dead drunk a few hours ago."
"Come smell my breath. You'll see I wasn't. In fact, I very seldom take even a drink of mild toxo and I haven't had any of that for many periods. Mykkyl's my drink."
The guard came close, sniffing, and Hanlon continued his prepared but necessary lie. "Ever since I was a boy I've been subject to these fainting spells. I'm getting so I can usually feel one coming on, and go lie down somewhere. In half an hour or so I wake up and am all right again until the next seizure. They usually come only two or three times a year."
The officer scratched his head. "Can't smell no liquor. Guess you must be telling the truth. In that case, there's no sense keeping you here. You can leave if you want to."
"Thanks, friend. I suppose it was a natural reaction, after seeing me unconscious."
Hanlon walked out of the little residence jail, and went back to his room in the groom's quarters. There he sat down to plan what his next moves would be.
"I've got to warn the Ruler some way, and make sure he is really protected," he thought. "But how can I do that? Maybe he likes me well enough to promote me to a place in his guards. Oh, if I could only talk to dad about all this. I need his help and advice. Dare I take the time to start hunting for him again? Or must I keep on working here?"
His heart clamored for him to do so, but he made himself consider every angle and connotation of his situation as coldly and logically as possible, as though the admiral was just that, and not also his beloved father.
He should, Hanlon supposed, warn the Ruler. On the other hand, he knew Amir was no fool, and that as a result of his near-death the past few hours, he would certainly be taking greater care of himself than ever? Incidentally, Hanlon wondered, how badly was Amir hurt?
Was there anything further he (Hanlon) could do about it?
He thought and thought, but could not see just how, without giving everything away. Perhaps he could get word to young Inver, to keep a more careful watch over his father. But trying that, too, would be a give-away. Was it time for that? Time for him to come out into the open and appear as a Terran and a member of its Inter-Stellar Corps?
SSM George Hanlon had matured tremendously under all the experiences he had undergone since joining the secret service, but he was still only a very young man. Such problems as these were really far above him, he felt—were things he simply did not have sense enough to figure out correctly. Not enough experience; not enough brains, he told himself with what he thought was an honest evaluation.
Nevertheless, he knew he was alone, that it was up to him, and that he had to make a decision one way or another.
But part of that decision was not left up to him. He was interrupted in the midst of his cogitations by the sudden opening of his room's door. He looked up in annoyance—and it was Endar.
"Pack your things and get out," the head groom said harshly. "I've seen the Ruler, told him about your disgraceful act of being drunk on duty, and have his permission to discharge you. He was very disappointed in you, he said."
Beneath his harshness Hanlon could easily detect the man's fierce satisfaction at having thus rid himself of a potential (as he thought) competitor. From his reading of the other's mind, Hanlon knew that Endar hadnottalked this over with the Ruler, and was doing it on his own. But the young S S man did not dare reveal his knowledge of that fact at this moment.
So he made himself say plaintively, "But I wasn't drunk. I felt one of my fainting spells coming on, and ran into the tackroom to lie down while it was on me."
"A trumped-up excuse, which doesn't help," Endar sneered. "Even if it was true, which I know it isn't, we don't want such people working here. So get out—and fast." He threw some money on the bed, as wages, and left.
In a way Hanlon was rather glad. It did help solve some of his problems, in that it left him freer to go and come where and when he wished. So he made no further protests, but silently packed his things, pocketed the money Endar had left, and went out and got his trike and rode back to Stearra. He wondered if his old rooms had yet been taken by someone else.
When he reached the building where he had been living, he parked his tricycle in the shed in the back yard, and went up to his old apartment.
The padlock and hasp had been forced, and the door was closed but unlocked. He opened it and went in just the same, for there were still some of his things there. He was determined to get them, even if someone else was living here now.
But the moment he got inside he sensed something changed. He stood quietly, letting his mindsniffat the feeling, trying to figure out what it was. He thought he heard a slight noise in the next room, and tiptoed softly across to the door. It was, he now saw, slightly ajar, and he peered through the crack. Someone was lying on his bed—an older Estrellan male, he judged by the longer, heavier beard.
Something about that face seemed familiar.
The being in the spaceship high above the surface of this planet had been growing more and more puzzled and unsure of itself during the past several days. Its plans seemed to be going all awry—and it was not quite sure why.
That native it had been controlling had not acted as he was supposed to act. Or rather, things had happened that had made it impossible for him to act always as directed. Even to the being the strange behavior of those four-legged beasts for riding, that had ruined its carefully prepared plan, was completely unexplainable.
And there was still the problem of that one unreadable mind on this world. Various things the being had done or caused to be done had enabled it, through its high-powered, multiphased scanner, to SEE the entity and keep track of its various goings and comings, but all its most intense efforts had not yet been able to touch that mind.
That this entity was working with those others who had such a different mind-texture from the usual run of Estrellans, it had long since proved to its satisfaction. The being now knew what these others were, and what they were trying to do on this planet. But who or what that unreadable entity was, what it was doing, and why—all this had so far defied the being's utmost powers.
So it was puzzled and as nearly worried as it was possible for one of its race to be. Also, for the first time during its very long life, the being was beginning to lose a little of its supreme faith in its own abilities. It was almost beginning to wonder if it was possible for itself to fail in its mission? But that was unthinkable.
And yet, it almost wailed mentally, that entity MUST be working toward the same ends as those others. Was it their master?
For nearly two Estrellan days and nights it had been considering carefully and minutely all the data so far acquired, and what its next actions should be. One thing it had early decided—there was no further use for confining or controlling those other two strange-minded creatures from that other system. It therefore released the "flee" compulsion from the one, and caused the "jailer" to open the doors and allow the other to leave its prison.
As George Hanlon stared at that figure on the bed, he reached out mentally and touched its mind. Instantly he let out a yell of delight, flung wider the door, and ran to the bedside.
"Dad, you're free!"
Admiral Newton woke, saw his son, and pushed himself erect. But as he did so a grimace of pain crossed his face, and Hanlon was all solicitude.
"What's the matter, dad?"
"Guess I'm not in very good shape," his father managed to grin. "Been half-starved and tortured a bit. But never mind that now. I'm glad to see you. When I was freed, I figured the quickest way to find you was to come here and wait. Guessed you'd be back sometime."
"Just lucky I did. Things worked out a bit differently than I expected, or I might never have come back here."
He explained in short, terse sentences what he had been doing and what he thought he had accomplished so far.
"So you see, dad," he concluded, "why I'm doubly glad to see you, both because it means you're free, and so you can advise me what we're to do next."
"Hmmm," the admiral thought swiftly. "We've got to do something immediately, that's for sure. Of course, I have the authority to approach Amir as a Terran, in case of need. But do you know for sure," he bent a penetrating gaze on the young man, "whether or not the Ruler has decided in our favor?"
"No," Hanlon said honestly. "I don't know that. But it seems as though he should have, now that he knows what Irad was trying to do, and why. If we go to him at once, and urge him properly, as well as explain why we are here and how we were trying to protect him, he should swing over our way. At least, that's what I'd about decided I ought to do."
The admiral was again silent, his brow creased in a deep frown of thought. Suddenly he snapped his fingers in decision, and looked up. "We'll do it. I have uniforms hidden in one of my hide-outs here, and we'll get rid of our disguises and go see him."
He climbed from the bed, and Hanlon gasped as he saw how emaciated his father was, and the marks of his torture. But the admiral dressed, then both went down and climbed aboard Hanlon's motor-trike.
But when they got to Newton's room, another surprise awaited them. For Hooper was there, waiting for Newton as the admiral had waited for Hanlon.
After mutual exchanges of experience, the three thankfully began removing their Estrellan disguises, worn so long and so uncomfortably. Their clothing off, they jumped beneath the pipe-shower, and as the water softened the hair and plastic, they took off their false ears and noses, and ripped the hair from their bodies. Then they shaved their beards, and more or less trimmed each other's hair to the best of their ability.
"Boy, does this feel good?" Hanlon cavorted, naked, about the little room, while his father and Hooper laughed their own relief.
Admiral Newton pulled a large travelling-case from beneath his low bed, unlocked the three complicated and pick-proof locks, and took out some uniforms. The others looked their astonishment, and he grinned. "Didn't know I had yours, too, did you?"
Clean, shaved and dressed in their uniforms, with the symbols of their ranks on the collars and shoulder tabs, the three sat comfortably in easy chairs, discussing plans and telling more fully what each had discovered.
Hanlon learned that the plot had been far more wide-spread than he realized. Almost every city on the planet had a cell working at the spreading of the propaganda against Estrella's joining the Terran Federation, and the lesser rumors about the insanity of Inver, the Ruler's son. He now learned the real reason for that whispering campaign, and wondered how he had missed it before. Inver stood Third-In-Line, and would become the Ruler after Amir if anything happened to Irad.
Both Hooper and Newton, who had worked more exclusively in other cities than Stearra, knew the names of most of the native Estrellans who headed these cells, and they could be picked up and arrested when the time came. The crime wave had been quite wide-spread, also, as had the whispers that the Terrans were to blame for it.
The other two were loud in their praise of Hanlon's work in uncovering the real head of the plot, and his splendid work in saving the Ruler's life when his assassination had been so carefully planned.
It was noticeable that the junior S S man no longer took their praise with the cockiness he had formerly exhibited. In fact, he was actually apologetic and uncomfortable. He squirmed and blushed, and tried to minimize what he had done.
George Spencer Newton Hanlon, secret serviceman of the Inter-Stellar Corps, had finally grown up.
It was so late when they completed their plans that Admiral Newton decided they had best wait until morning before seeking an audience with the planetary ruler. Besides, he and Hooper both needed all the rest they could get, before embarking on any new campaign.
Hanlon prepared the best meal he could from the meager supplies in the admiral's room, and they all ate, then went to bed.
But deep down in his inner consciousness, a warning bell seemed to be ringing as George Hanlon lay in bed. It took him many long, anxious minutes of intense concentration before he was able to isolate the feeling from the many new items that had been talked about that evening. But he finally brought it into focus in his mind. He sat upright, disturbing his father, who was almost asleep.
"What's the matter, Spence?" sleepily.
"Amir," Hanlon said with agitation. "He ought not to be left unguarded like this. Those gangsters, led by Irad, are sure to make another attempt to kill him—and quickly, now that Irad has tipped his hand."
"But what can we do?" Hooper was also sitting up on the blanket-pallet that had been spread for him on the floor of this small, one-bed room.
"I ... don't ... know," Hanlon said slowly. "I ... I can probably watch, through a bird or something, what's going on. But if they try anything...."
Newton started to climb out of bed. "I'll go notify the residence officials. Maybe we can alert his guards to be more watchful."
Hanlon was still worried. "I don't know about that, either. Maybe some of them have been planted by Irad ... and if we say anything to the wrong ones it might merely hasten their plans."
"That sounds reasonable," Hooper said. "Irad would certainly never overlook a chance like that."
"If he could make it," Newton admitted, lying down again. "Maybe you'd better keep watch, Spence, since you know how. If you see anything starting, we'll do our darnedest to break it up."
And in its spaceship the alien being awoke the Estrellan native it had been controlling for so long, and impressed certain commands on his mind—nor was the native able any longer to make any attempt, however feeble, to resist. Continued compulsion had at last weakened his will to the point where all suggestions and commands were instantly obeyed without question.
He therefore rose, dressed, equipped himself with a flamegun and certain other instruments, and left the house where he had been hiding out.