“Lucky,” the Pyrran said. “An inch lower would have got your heart. I warned you about those grubbers. You’re lucky to get off with only this.” He lay next to the door and snapped shots into the now quiet wood.
Taking out the bolt hurt much more than it had going in. Jason cursed the pain as Krannon put on a dressing, and admired the singleness of purpose of the people who had shot him. They had risked his life to make his escape look real. And also risked the chance that he might turn against them after being shot. They did a job completely and thoroughly and he cursed them for their efficiency.
Krannon climbed warily out of the truck, after Jason was bandaged. Finishing the loading quickly, he started the train of trailers back towards the city. Jason had an anti-pain shot and dozed off as soon as they started.
While he slept, Krannon must have radioed ahead, because Kerk was waiting when they arrived. As soon as the truck entered the perimeter he threw open the door and dragged Jason out. The bandage pulled and Jason felt the wound tear open. He ground his teeth together; Kerk would not have the satisfaction of hearing him cry out.
“I told you to stay in the buildings until the ship left. Why did you leave? Why did you go outside? You talked to the grubbers — didn’t you?” With each question he shook Jason again.
“I didn’t talk to — anyone.” Jason managed to get the words out. “They tried to take me, I shot two — hid out until the trucks came back.”
“Got another one then,” Krannon said. “I saw it. Good shooting. Think I got some, too. Let him go Kerk, they shot him in the back before he could reach the truck.”
That’s enough explanations, Jason thought to himself. Don’t overdo it. Let him make up his mind later. Now’s the time to change the subject. There’s one thing that will get his mind off the grubbers.
“I’ve been fighting your war for you Kerk, while you stayed safely inside the perimeter.” Jason leaned back against the side of the truck as the other loosened his grip. “I’ve found out what your battle with this planet is really about — and how you can win it. Now let me sit down and I’ll tell you.”
More Pyrrans had come up while they talked. None of them moved now. Like Kerk, they stood frozen, looking at Jason. When Kerk talked, he spoke for all of them.
“ What do you mean? ”
“Just what I said. Pyrrus is fighting you — actively and consciously. Get far enough out from this city and you can feel the waves of hatred that are directed at it. No, that’s wrong — you can’t because you’ve grown up with it. But I can, and so could anyone else with any sort of psi sensitivity. There is a message of war being beamed against you constantly. The life forms of this planet are psi-sensitive, and respond to that order. They attack and change and mutate for your destruction. And they’ll keep on doing so until you are all dead. Unless you can stop the war.”
“How?” Kerk snapped the word and every face echoed the question.
“By finding whoever or whatever is sending that message. The life forms that attack you have no reasoning intelligence. They are being ordered to do so. I think I know how to find the source of these orders. After that it will be a matter of getting across a message, asking for a truce and an eventual end to all hostilities.”
A dead silence followed his words as the Pyrrans tried to comprehend the ideas. Kerk moved first, waving them all away.
“Go back to your work. This is my responsibility and I’ll take care of it. As soon as I find out what truth there is here — if any — I’ll make a complete report.” The people drifted away silently, looking back as they went.
X
From the beginning now,” Kerk said. “And leave out nothing.”
“There is very little more that I can add to the physical facts. I saw the animals, understood the message. I even experimented with some of them and they reacted to my mental commands. What I must do now is track down the source of the orders that keep this war going.
“I’ll tell you something that I have never told anyone else. I’m not only lucky at gambling. I have enough psi ability to alter probability in my favor. It’s an erratic ability that I have tried to improve for obvious reasons. During the past ten years I managed to study at all of the centers that do psi research. Compared to other fields of knowledge it is amazing how little they know. Basic psi talents can be improved by practice, and some machines have been devised that act as psionic amplifiers. One of these, used correctly, is a very good directional indicator.”
“You want to build this machine?” Kerk asked.
“Exactly. Build it and take it outside the city in the ship. Any signal strong enough to keep this centuries-old battle going should be strong enough to track down. I’ll follow it, contact the creatures who are sending it, and try to find out why they are doing it. I assume you’ll go along with any reasonable plan that will end this war?”
“Anything reasonable,” Kerk said coldly. “How long will it take you to build this machine?”
“Just a few days if you have all the parts here,” Jason told him.
“Then do it. I’m canceling the flight that’s leaving now and I’ll keep the ship here, ready to go. When the machine is built I want you to track the signal and report back to me.”
“Agreed,” Jason said, standing up. “As soon as I have this hole in my back looked at I’ll draw up a list of things needed.”
A grim, unsmiling man named Skop was assigned to Jason as a combination guide and guard. He took his job very seriously, and it didn’t take Jason long to realize that he was a prisoner-at-large. Kerk had accepted his story, but that was no guarantee that he believed it. At a single word from him, the guard could turn executioner.
The chill thought hit Jason that undoubtedly this was what would happen. Whether Kerk accepted the story or not — he couldn’t afford to take a chance. As long as there was the slightest possibility Jason had contacted the grubbers, he could not be allowed to leave the planet alive. The woods people were being simple if they thought a plan this obvious might succeed. Or had they just gambled on the very long chance it might work? They certainly had nothing to lose by it.
Only half of Jason’s mind was occupied with the work as he drew up a list of materials he would need for the psionic direction finder. His thoughts plodded in tight circles, searching for a way out that didn’t exist. He was too deeply involved now to just leave. Kerk would see to that. Unless he could find a way to end the war and settle the grubber question he was marooned on Pyrrus for life. A very short life.
When the list was ready he called Supply. With a few substitutions, everything he might possibly need was in stock, and would be sent over. Skop sank into an apparent doze in his chair and Jason, his head propped against the pull of gravity by one arm, began a working sketch of his machine.
Jason looked up suddenly, aware of the silence. He could hear machinery in the building and voices in the hall outside. What kind of silence then —?
Mental silence. He had been so preoccupied since his return to the city that he hadn’t noticed the complete lack of any kind of psi sensation. The constant wash of animal reactions was missing, as was the vague tactile awareness of his PK. With sudden realization he remembered that it was always this way inside the city.
He tried to listen with his mind — and stopped almost before he began. There was a constant press of thought about him that he was made aware of when he reached out. It was like being in a vessel far beneath the ocean, with your hand on the door that held back the frightening pressure. Touching the door, without opening it, you could feel the stresses, the power pushing in and waiting to crush you. It was this way with the psi pressure on the city. The unvoiced hate-filled screams of Pyrrus would instantly destroy any mind that received them. Some function of his brain acted as a psi-circuit breaker, shutting off awareness before his mind could be blasted. There was just enough leak-through to keep him aware of the pressure — and supply the raw materials for his constant nightmares.