Deathworld (36 page)

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Authors: Harry Harrison

Tags: #science fiction

BOOK: Deathworld
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"Then they are all dead?"

"Yes," Ulv nodded. "All except one. I knew I could perhaps save one;
I was not sure who. So I took the woman you were with in the
desert—she is here now. She was hurt, but not badly, when I brought
her out."

Guilty relief flooded through Brion. He shouldn't exult, not with
the death of everyone in the Foundation still fresh in his mind.
But at that instant he was happy.

"Let me see her," he said to Ulv. He was seized by the sudden fear
that there might be a mistake. Perhaps Ulv had saved a different
woman.

Ulv led the way across the empty loading bay. Brion followed
closely, fighting down the temptation to tell him to hurry. When he
saw that Ulv was heading towards an office in the far wall, he could
control himself no longer and ran on ahead.

It was Lea, lying unconscious on a couch. Sweat beaded her face and
she moaned and stirred without opening her eyes.

"I gave her
sover
, then wrapped her in cloth so no one would
know," Ulv said.

Telt was close behind them, looking in through the open door.

"
Sover
is a drug they take from one of their plants," he said.
"We got a lot of experience with it. A little makes a good knock-out
drug, but it's deadly poison in large doses. I got the antidote in
the car; wait and I'll get it." He went out.

Brion sat next to Lea and wiped her face clean of dirt and
perspiration. The dark shadows under her eyes were almost black now
and her elfin face seemed even thinner. But she was alive—that was
the important thing.

Some of the tension drained away from Brion and he could think
again. There was still the job to do. After this last experience Lea
should be in a hospital bed. But this was impossible. He would have
to drag her to her feet and put her back to work. The answer might
still be found. Each second ticked away another fraction of the
planet's life.

"Good as new in a minute," Telt said, banging down the heavy med
box. He watched intently as Ulv left the room. "Hys should
know about this renegade. Might be useful as a spy, or for
information—though of course it's too late now to do anything, so
the hell with it." He pulled a pistol-shaped hypodermic gun from the
box and dialed a number on the side. "Now, if you'll roll her sleeve
up I'll bring her back to life." He pressed the bell-shaped
sterilizing muzzle against her skin and pulled the trigger. The hypo
gun hummed briefly, ending its cycle with a loud click.

"Does it work fast?" Brion asked.

"Couple of minutes. Just let her be and she'll come to by herself."

Ulv was in the doorway. "Killer!" he hissed. His blowgun was in his
hand, half raised to his mouth.

"He's been in the car—he's seen it!" Telt shouted and grabbed for
his gun.

Brion sprang between them, raising his hands. "Stop it! No more
killing!" he shouted in Disan. Then he shook his fist at Telt.
"Fire that gun and I'll stuff it down your throat. I'll handle this."
He turned to face Ulv, who hadn't brought the blowgun any closer to
his lips. This was a good sign—the Disan was still uncertain.

"You have seen the body in the car, Ulv. So you must have seen that
it is that of a magter. I killed him myself, because I would rather
kill one, or ten, or even a hundred men than have everyone on this
planet destroyed. I killed him in a fair fight and now I am going
to examine his body. There is something very strange and different
about the magter, you know that yourself. If I can find out what it
is, perhaps we can make them stop this war, and not bomb Nyjord."

Ulv was still angry, but he lowered the blowgun a little. "I wish
there were no offworlders," he said. "I wish that none of you had
ever come. Nothing was wrong until you started coming. The magter
were the strongest, and they killed; but they also helped. Now they
want to fight a war with your weapons, and for this you are going to
kill my world. And you want me to help you!"

"Not me—yourself!" Brion said wearily. "There's no going back,
that's the one thing we can't do. Maybe Dis would have been better
off without offplanet contact. Maybe not. In any case, you have to
forget about that. You have contact now with the rest of the galaxy,
for better or for worse. You've got a problem to solve, and I'm here
to help you solve it."

Seconds ticked by as Ulv, unmoving, fought with questions that were
novel to his life. Could killing stop death? Could he help his
people by helping strangers to fight and kill them? His world had
changed and he didn't like it. He must make a giant effort to change
with it.

Abruptly, he pushed the blowgun into a thong at his waist, turned
and strode out.

"Too much for my nerves," Telt said, settling his gun back in the
holster. "You don't know how happy I'm gonna be when this whole damn
thing is over. Even if the planet goes bang, I don't care. I'm
finished." He walked out to the sand car, keeping a careful eye
on the Disan crouched against the wall.

Brion turned back to Lea, whose eyes were open, staring at the
ceiling. He went to her.

"Running," she said, and her voice had a toneless emptiness that
screamed louder than any emotion. "They ran by the open door of my
room and I could see them when they killed Dr. Stine. Just butchered
him like an animal, chopping him down. Then one came into the room
and that's all I remember." She turned her head slowly and looked at
Brion. "What happened? Why am I here?"

"They're ... dead," he told her. "All of them. After the raid the
Disans blew up the building. You're the only one that survived.
That was Ulv who came into your room, the Disan we met in the desert.
He brought you away and hid you here in the city."

"When do we leave?" she asked in the same empty tones, turning
her face to the wall. "When do we get off this planet?"

"Today is the last day. The deadline is midnight. Krafft will have
a ship pick us up when we are ready. But we still have our job to do.
I've got that body. You're going to have to examine it. We must
find out about the magter...."

"Nothing can be done now except leave." Her voice was a dull
monotone. "There is only so much that a person can do, and I've done
it. Please have the ship come; I want to leave now."

Brion bit his lip in helpless frustration. Nothing seemed to
penetrate the apathy into which she had sunk. Too much shock, too
much terror, in too short a time. He took her chin in his hand and
turned her head to face him. She didn't resist, but her eyes were
shining with tears; tears trickled down her cheeks.

"Take me home, Brion, please take me home."

He could only brush her sodden hair back from her face, and force
himself to smile at her. The moments of time were running out,
faster and faster, and he no longer knew what to do. The examination
had to be made—yet he couldn't force her. He looked for the med box
and saw that Telt had taken it back to the sand car. There might be
something in it that could help—a tranquilizer perhaps.

Telt had some of his instruments open on the chart table and was
examining a tape with a pocket magnifier when Brion entered. He
jumped nervously and put the tape behind his back, then relaxed when
he saw who it was.

"I thought you were the creepie out there, coming for a look," he
whispered. "Maybe you trust him—but I can't afford to. Can't even
use the radio. I'm getting out of here now. I have to tell Hys!"

"Tell him what?" Brion asked sharply. "What is all the mystery
about?"

Telt handed him the magnifier and tape. "Look at that—recording
tape from my scintillation counter. Red verticals are five-minute
intervals, the wiggly black horizontal line is the radioactivity
level. All this where the line goes up and down, that's when we were
driving out to the attack. Varying hot level of the rock and
ground."

"What's the big peak in the middle?"

"That coincides exactly with our visit to the house of horrors!
When we went through the hole in the bottom of the tower!" He
couldn't keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Does it mean that...."

"I don't know. I'm not sure. I have to compare it with the other
tapes back at base. It could be the stone of the tower—some of
these heavy rocks have got a high natural count. There maybe could
be a box of instruments there with fluorescent dials. Or it might be
one of those tactical atom bombs they threw at us already. Some arms
runner sold them a few."

"Or it could be the cobalt bombs?"

"It could be," Telt said, packing his instruments swiftly. "A badly
shielded bomb, or an old one with a crack in the skin, could give
a trace like that. Just a little radon leaking out would do it."

"Why don't you call Hys on the radio and let him know?"

"I don't want Granddaddy Krafft's listening posts to hear about it.
This is our job—if I'm right. And I have to check my old tapes to
make sure. But it's gonna be worth a raid, I can feel that in my
bones. Let's unload your corpse." He helped Brion with the clumsy,
wrapped bundle, then slipped into the driver's seat.

"Hold it," Brion said. "Do you have anything in the med box I can
use for Lea? She seems to have cracked. Not hysterical, but
withdrawn. Won't listen to reason, won't do anything but lie there
and ask to go home."

"Got the potion here," Telt said, cracking the med box.
"Slaughter-syndrome is what our medic calls it. Hit a lot of our
boys. Grow up all your life hating the idea of violence, and it goes
rough when you have to start killing people. Guys break up, break
down, go to pieces lots of different ways. The medic mixed up this
stuff. Don't know how it works, probably tranquilizers and some of
the cortex drugs. But it peels off recent memories. Maybe for the
last ten, twelve hours. You can't get upset about what you don't
remember." He pulled out a sealed package. "Directions on the box.
Good luck."

"Luck," Brion said, and shook the technician's calloused hand.
"Let me know if the traces are strong enough to be bombs." He checked
the street to make sure it was clear, then pressed the door button.
The sand car churned out into the brilliant sunshine and was gone,
the throb of its motor dying in the distance. Brion closed the door
and went back to Lea. Ulv was still crouched against the wall.

There was a one-shot disposable hypodermic in the box. Lea made
no protest when he broke the seal and pressed the needle against
her arm. She sighed and her eyes closed again.

When he saw she was resting easily, he dragged in the
tarpaulin-wrapped body of the magter. A work-bench ran along one
wall and he struggled the corpse up onto it. He unwrapped the
tarpaulin and the sightless eyes stared accusingly up into his.

Using his knife, Brion cut away the loose, blood-soaked clothing.
Strapped under the clothes, around the man's waist, was the familiar
collection of Disan artifacts. This could have significance either
way. Human or humanoid, the creature would still have to live on
Dis. Brion threw it aside, along with the clothing. Nude, pierced,
bloody, the corpse lay before him.

In every external physical detail the man was human.

Brion's theory was becoming more preposterous with each discovery.
If the magter weren't alien, how could he explain their complete lack
of emotions? A mutation of some kind? He didn't see how it was
possible. There
had
to be something alien about the dead man
before him. The future of a world rested on this flimsy hope. If
Telt's lead to the bombs proved to be false, there would be no hope
left at all.

Lea was still unconscious when he looked at her again. There was no
way of telling how long the coma would last. He would probably have
to waken her out of it, but he didn't want to do it too early. It
took an effort to control his impatience, even though he knew the
drug needed time in which to work. He finally decided on at least a
minimum of an hour before he should try to disturb her. That would
be noon—twelve hours before destruction.

One thing he should do was to get in touch with Professor-Commander
Krafft. Maybe it was being defeatist, but he had to make sure that
they had a way off this planet if the mission failed. Krafft had
installed a relay radio that would forward calls from his personal
set. If this relay had been in the Foundation building, contact was
broken. This had to be found out before it was too late. Brion
thumbed on his radio and sent the call. The reply came back
instantly.

"This is fleet communications. Will you please keep this circuit
open? Commander Krafft is waiting for this call and it is being put
directly through to him now." Krafft's voice broke in while the
operator was still talking.

"Who is making this call—is it anyone from the Foundation?"
The old man's voice was shaky with emotion.

"Brandd here. I have Lea Morees with me...."

"No more? Are there no other survivors from the disaster that
destroyed your building?"

"That's it, other than us it's a ... complete loss. With the
building and all the instruments gone, I have no way to contact our
ship in orbit. Can you arrange to get us out of here if necessary?"

"Give me your location. A ship is coming now—"

"I don't need a ship now," Brion interrupted. "Don't send it until
I call. If there is a way to stop your destruction I'll find it.
So I'm staying—to the last minute if necessary."

Krafft was silent. There was only the crackle of an open mike and
the sound of breathing. "That is your decision," he said finally.
"I'll have a ship standing by. But won't you let us take Miss Morees
out now?"

"No. I need her here. We are still working, looking for—"

"What answer can you find that could possibly avert destruction
now?" His tone was between hope and despair. Brion couldn't help
him.

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