understand your presentconfusion and your complete disbelief in your change of orientation.And I know it's quite an effort for a young man to admit he's been ...well ... shall we say influenced? But believe me, it's no disgrace.It's happened to quite a few others before you." He noddedthoughtfully.
"In fact, we are beginning to believe this Petoen Waern, like hisuncle, is something of an adept at this sort of thing."
Don looked at him steadily.
"Do I act as though I were in a trance, sir?"
"Oh no. No, of course not. This sort of thing doesn't result in such amanifestation. This is something much more subtle than mere, grosshypnotism." Rayson smiled.
"However, you've had all night to partially recover. And these thingsseldom are fully effective for more than a few hours--unless theoperator can get to his victim again, to fully fix the impression hehas created."
Rayson placed the palms of his hands together. "No, by this time, onewould expect your memories to be somewhat confused. So we can applytherapeutic methods." He nodded.
"Now go ahead. Try running through the whole story. Perhaps we can geta clue as to his methods. And if you have any ill effects remaining, Ithink they can be quite easily eliminated. Now, suppose you start withthe time immediately after young Waern's attack on the Kelton boy."
* * * * *
Don shook his head wearily. "There was no such attack," he said. "Itwas the other way around. A large sized chap who later gave his name tome as Gerry Kelton, slapped a smaller fellow named Waern. At the time,two other fellows were holding Waern's arms. Rather tightly, too."
Masterson interrupted, shaking his head disgustedly. "We've got plentyof statements from witnesses. That isn't the way they read. Now howabout it?"
"You mean the two Keltons and VanSickle?"
"No." Masterson was definite. "No. I don't mean them. There wereseveral students around the doorway into that locker room during thatentire show. We got stories from most of them." He waved a handdecisively.
"Now suppose you start using your head. Get busy and give us the thingthe way it really happened. Then, we'll see what to do about you."
Don shook his head. "The locker room and the hall were empty for atleast a full minute before those three came in," he said. "If you goover the people that signed those statements, you'll probably find thatthey were somewhere else at the time." He grinned.
"And from what I hear, this might give you an idea as to the membershipof the Hunters, too."
"Hunters!" Masterson looked completely disgusted. "We've checked out ahundred crazy rumors about that alleged gang. Nothing there."
"Maybe so." Don looked at him critically. "But Jack Bordelle certainlysounded convinced last night. And how about Pete Waern? Didn't he tellyou his side of this thing?"
"Ah yes, Waern." Dr. Rayson chuckled. "I believe these 'Hunters' are aninvention of his uncle's. No, that young man didn't come in. His fatheris too smart for that. We won't see that young man again, unless we canhave him brought in for this bit of work he did on you."
Don turned his head to stare across the desk.
Rayson smiled knowingly. "Oh, yes. Jasu Waern called early thismorning. He said he was withdrawing Petoen from school. Said he plannedto send him to a private school where he wouldn't be subject toindignities." He chuckled again.
"Jasu Waern is altogether too smart a man to let us question thatyoungster of his if he can prevent it." He looked searchingly at Don.
"You know," he added musingly, "I'm beginning to wonder about you,though. This might be serious. Possibly this Waern boy was morethorough than we thought possible. Possibly permanent damage could havebeen done." He got to his feet.
"Suppose you go over to that couch there and lie down. We'll try alittle therapy, and see what we can do for you."
Michaels looked at him indignantly.
"I'm getting a little tired of all these tales about mental influenceby the Khlorisanu. They're pure myth and I know it. I've lived all mylife among these people. Believe me, if there were any such thing, myfather or I would have come across it before now. And we'd know aboutit."
"You are then, ah, presenting yourself as an authority onparapsychology, perhaps?" Rayson pursed his lips. "This is a greataccomplishment for one so young."
"I'm not an authority on anything." Don shook his head. "All I know isthat I'd find it out right away if anyone tried anything like that onme. No one has--at least no Khlorisana has."
Rayson shook his head reprovingly. "Now, you say you have lived allyour life among these people? Perhaps, then, you have been under----"
* * * * *
"Just a minute!" Masterson broke in sharply. "What's this about JackBordelle? He's your relief, isn't he, Michaels?"
"That's right." Don shrugged, then repeated his conversation withBordelle. He smiled wryly as he finished.
"I'll have to admit," he added, "I did walk over and spend a fewseconds checking the incinerator, at that. But ... oh, well." He wavedat the paper on Rayson's desk.
"And you didn't put that in your report?"
"No, sir. I didn't think there was any place for it there."
"Why not?"
"It wasn't material to the case in hand, sir. There was no evidence inJack's comments. He made no threats or offers. And as far as I couldtell, he was merely a disinterested person concerned in my welfare.Even though he seemed to believe what he was saying, it's purehearsay."
"Hearsay!" Masterson snorted. "Pure invention." He leaned forward.
"Look," he said sharply, "we've been pretty patient with you. We'vegiven you the benefit of every doubt we could think of. And we'regetting to the time-wasting stage." He waved a hand sharply across infront of his body.
"Now, I'd like to get some truth out of you. You've told us a littletruth already. I believe you when you say you weren't subjected to anymental influence. I think the influence was very material indeed--innice, purple ink--and it seems to have been pretty effective. How muchwas it?"
"How much?" Don frowned. "I wish you'd make yourself clear on that.What are you trying to say?"
"Just what you think I said," snapped Masterson. "How much did thatyoungster offer you to write up that incident the way you did? And haveyou the cash in hand yet?"
Don looked at the man carefully, noting the details of his appearance.Finally, he shook his head.
"Mr. Masterson," he said slowly, "up to now, I've always thought youwere a good instructor and a fine advisor. I've sat in your classes,and I even developed a lot of respect for you. All at once, you'veshown me how wrong I could be." He held up a hand.
"Be quiet," he said sharply, "both of you. And listen carefully. I wantto make myself fully understood. I want to drive one thought into yourstupid heads. You're in the wrong part of the galaxy for such remarksas that one you just made." He touched the corner of his mouth, thenlooked at his fingers.
"You see, this is at the edge of the Morek. There are Moreku here, inthis school. And some day, you might talk to one of them." He smiledthinly.
"I am the only son of a border rancher, Mr. Masterson. We have a fewthousand square kilos up in the Morek area, in the hills. And I haveworked and played with mountain tribesmen all my life." He drew a longbreath.
"Had a few fights with some of them, too. And some of their customs anda lot of their moral values rubbed off on me, I guess, though I'venever been adopted into any clan.
"You just made a remark that is the absolute last word in insults up inthe Morek. Nothing you could do or say could be worse. And there are,as I said, others from that area right here, in this school. Real clanmembers." He laughed shortly.
"Mister, what you said was, 'you sell yourself.'" He reached up to hislapel, twisting at the bronze button.
"If you should say that to a tribesman, your life would be over. Rightthen, unless you were very quick. And if you should be quick enough, orlucky enough, to kill the man you insulted, his clan brothers
wouldtake it up. It would be either you--or the whole tribe." He stood up.
"I'm not a tribesman. I don't carry the sling, and I'm of galacticancestry, so I don't have a compulsion toward blood vengeance. But Idon't accept that insult. I shall go back to the Morek today and placeyou out of my mind." He paused.
"No, I won't kill you. I'll