One slumped, the other gave a startled cry, dropped his end of the box, staggered a step or two, until Jony caught him full on with a second beam. The noise of the box hitting the floor—that cry! Had the sounds given the alarm to the party still below?
Voak and his clansmen needed no orders. They flitted silently between the pillars, caught up the two unconscious men, bundling them fast in large nets they had brought with them. How many more of the enemy were here? Maba had thought that four had gone with the flyer from the ship with Geogee; but she was not sure.
Now Jony struck in another fashion. He could not aim at either of Geogee's two other companions with mental compulsion, because he neither had them in view, nor knew them well enough to form a mind-picture. However, through the boy, he ought to be able to deal easily with the opposition, as he had once before.
Rutee—his far off promise! Only Rutee could not have foreseen such a situation as this. She would certainly not hold him to any word, if keeping such meant ill to the People who had saved her and her children.
Geogee! Jony aimed an order with the same precision as he had just used the stunner.
Come!
He had the boy! Geogee was obeying.
Come!
Geogee must have been well up the ascent from the storage room, because their contact was so clear, so immediate. Jony held communication to top pitch, until the smaller form of the boy did appear in the open, his eyes as wide and set as any mind-controlled. Jony winced at the sight. But this must be done.
Now Maba ran lightly forward, caught her twin by a dangling hand, hurried him with her, back into the dusk behind where that single high window laid its path of light.
“What's with the boy!” Spoken words Jony could pick up and understand.
“Maybe he can't take this hole any longer. I'm beat out myself. Let's call this the last—for now.”
“The last? It will take us months to clear out that place. What a find! I don't think anything like it—so complete—has ever been uncovered before. Who were these city builders? They look like pure Terran stock in those pictures.”
“Could be. There were a lot of colony ships which took off and just went into nowhere as far as the records are concerned. Or colonies of colonies of colonies. What I'd like to know is what happened to . . .”
The speakers had reached the top of the ramp. Again they carried between them a box. However, directly in their path lay the first which the now-prisoners had dropped. Sighting that, the newcomers stopped short.
“Down!” One of them loosed his end of their own burden, fell to the floor behind it. His fellow was only a fraction late in following him. What had alerted them Jony could not tell. But he heard them slithering along behind the barrier of that loot they had already brought out. He shot the stunner twice. Apparently its power could not penetrate that barrier. And, when he tried mind control, he met with the dampening effect of some safe coverage.
They were heading for the open by the sounds, to get out to their flyer. He could guess that much. And, also, if they reached that and were able to rise he and the People would have lost.
Jony began to run along the other side of the boxes. Would one of the invaders now produce a power rod and use it? He could taste his fear, but that did not slow his desperate chase.
FIFTEEN
The off-worlders broke from behind the end of the line of boxes. Raising his stunner, and aiming as best as he could, Jony was about to press the firing button when he himself was struck. Not by any blow, but with that same weakening of the muscles, that inability to keep on his feet which had made him easy prey for the spacemen before. Only this time he did not lose consciousness; even though he wilted forward, to lie face down, unable to raise or turn his head.
Geogee! Jony received in his still-alert mind the impact of the twin's anger and fear. He could hear the thud of running feet. The escaping spacemen must be well on their way out of the building. But Geogee did not accompany them.
Once again Jony tried mind-touch, control, if he could force it. Now he met the same barrier which the ship people could raise. He fought with all his will against the inert disobedience of his body, but was unable to break whatever bonds held him.
Jony heard the whisper of footsteps from behind. Geogee? Another spaceman? A clutch on his shoulder rolled him over, to lie limply, staring up at Geogee.
The boy scowled down at him. He wore not only a smaller version of the ship garment, but, now, over his head, a bubble-like covering which was far too large, shifting back and forth on his shoulders, so that he had to raise a hand constantly to steady it in place. However, in his other hand, at the ready, was a stunner.
“Geogee . . .” Though he was not able to move, Jony discovered he could shape that name with his lips, utter it as a low whisper.
If the other heard him, he made no sign. Instead he walked around Jony, picked up the stunner he had dropped when he fell under attack. Geogee thrust that extra weapon into the front of his clothing, as if it were very necessary to make sure of such possession at once.
Then, for the first time, he spoke: “What did they do with them?”
Jony had no idea what he meant. He struggled to give voice in that whisper. “Who—do with what?”
“With Volney, Isin. I saw the People take them, back there.” Geogee settled his helmet straight, then waved his hand toward the rear of the long hall.
So the People had gone, taking with them their prisoners. Jony accepted that with difficulty, startled at first by the fact that they had deserted him. Geogee leaned closer.
“I said—where are they going to take them?” His eyes blinked nervously, he fidgeted. Though Jony could not now use the mind-touch, he was well aware that Geogee was in a state of great excitement, perhaps even fear.
When Jony did not answer at once, Geogee brought the stunner around, pointing the rod straight at his victim's head.
“I can give you another shot,” he shrilled. “You won't ever know anything after that!”
“And if I don't know anything,” Jony returned, “how can you find out what you want? Geogee, this is me, Jony! Why are you doing this—?”
Geogee's eyes flicked from side to side as if he expected at any moment to be attacked from another direction.
“You let them take Volney,” he burst out. “Those animals—they'll kill him! You—you—” His accusation ended in a sputtering, as if he could not find any name evil enough for Jony.
In turn he was struck silent as another voice called from behind the line of boxes: “Geogee?”
“Maba! What are you doing here? Let me alone!” For a moment Geogee's concentration on Jony was broken. Had the other been able to move he might have used that instant well. But, in spite of his will, his body remained inert.
“What are you doing, Geogee?” the girl countered. She advanced into the line of Jony's sight. Both her hands were empty, the stunner she had carried was gone.
“I want to know where they took Volney!” her twin repeated loudly. “I saw them drag him off; he and Isin! They'll maybe kill him . . .”
The twin was lashing himself into a stronger display of anger and fear than Jony had ever seen him exhibit before. Now he actually swung the stunner around to point at his sister.
Ignoring the menace of that weapon, she walked forward boldly, facing Geogee across Jony's body. Her face was as calm as if they had both awakened in a clan nest that morning and there had been no fatal interruption to the peace of their lives.
“The People won't kill them,” she stated firmly.
“How do you know? Animals! They always kill when they're threatened.” Geogee spat back. “And how did you get here, away from the ship?”
“I came because he brought me,” she indicated Jony. “Don't we always have to do as he wants, if he controls us?”
Geogee laughed, a reckless note high in sound. “Not anymore! I've got this.” He thumped the helmet, which slipped so that he had to hurriedly right it
once more. “Jony didn't know about it—so I could grab it when he let me go—when I got to you, too. They know about what Jony can do. But he can't control me anymore. Not now. He can't do anything at all but just lie there. Eh, Jony?”
He stared down at his captive; the grin on his face was not a pleasant one.
“Rutee made you promise,” he hissed, “that you would never try to control us. But you did! You learned a lot from the Big Ones. But I've learned more—from Volney. I can control you, Jony. See, I'll show you how—”
Turning up the butt of the alien weapon he made some adjustment there, and then, with a flip of the wrist, aimed once more at Jony, sending whatever power that weapon emitted to travel the full length of his victim.
There was a tingling in Jony's flesh. Circulation might be returning to some limb which had gone numb. But, though Jony attempted at once to move, he was still in thrall to that terrible inertia.
“Get up!” commanded Geogee.
To Jony's sudden horror then, his body, if slowly and disjointedly, did move. Fear filled his mind—he was controlled! Yet this was not the same way as the Big Ones practiced such captivity. He was sure that the effect was different.
Once on his feet he swayed back and forth, his own mind fighting desperately to take over command of his body. He felt enmeshed in an unseen net of alien strength. Geogee backed away, stunner still aimed at Jony's middle. And Jony was drawn to follow, staggering, wavering, but on his feet and moving in obedience to that pull.
“You see?” Geogee laughed again. “Now Jony can't control us, but we can him! We'll march him right to the flyer. Varcar and Hansa, they're there. We'll take him back to the ship. The captain will know what to do with him.”
To Jony's surprise and dismay Maba echoed that laughter. “Clever Geogee,” she praised her twin. “How did you know how to do that? When you took my stunner you didn't tell me how you could . . .”
“Volney showed me when I told him about Jony. Volney knows more than Jony could ever hope to. Volney likes me. He says when we go back with them he'll see I'm taught how to be a pilot, learn to run their machines. Volney says I learn things easier than any boy he's seen, that I have a very good brain. Volney . . .” Geogee's face twisted again into that ugly scowl. “Volney! Those animals have Volney! We must get him free. Jony knows where they are; he's going to take us there—right now!”
“Jony doesn't know everything,” Maba answered. “He tried to make the People come here, fight the spacemen. They came, but they wouldn't fight. They don't want to fight, but just run away. And now they've run off and left Jony. They won't take Volney and the other far; they're afraid of the space people. If we went after them, left Jony . . . He doesn't go fast when you make him move—we could stop them. You have that,” she indicated the stunner. “You can take Volney away from the People easily. But we have to hurry now to catch up.”
Geogee came to a halt, his attention once more passing from Jony to the girl. Jony was sick inside. What had happened to Maba? On board the ship she had aided in their escape; he could not have carried that through without her quick wit. And he had allowed her to come here because he knew that she did have influence over Geogee. Only now she was using that influence to set Geogee, armed with his alien weapon, on the trail of Voak and the others. Since she had come out of the shadows, she had not once looked straight at Jony nor given any indication that she was in opposition to her brother.
“Leave Jony?” Geogee said thoughtfully. “But they want Jony, they want to learn how he can control us. Volney said maybe he is a mutant.”
“What's a mutant?” Apparently that was new to Maba.
“Someone who is changed from the rest, I guess. But they want to know about Jony.”
“Easy enough,” Maba made a slight face. “Leave him here. You can stun him again, or just leave him controlled like this. He won't be able to get away. If we wait, the People may be able to hide Volney before we can catch up.”
“They aren't People!” Geogee still did not relinquish his wary attitude toward his captive. “Volney said they don't have that high a reading on the scale. They're not like us at all. Jony is stupid, always telling us how great they are. About leaving him here . . . I don't know.”
“Oh, come on,” Maba was growing impatient. “You know he can't get away, not if you leave him controlled. Anyway, those who went to the ship—they'll be back.” She gestured to the heaped boxes. “They're never going to leave all this, or you, or Volney and Isin.”
Slowly Geogee nodded. Though he watched Jony measuringly, he lowered the weapon slightly.
Now Jony made the move he had decided upon during that short exchange when both the twins apparently ignored him. He allowed his body to slump once more to the pavement, as if he could no longer obey the controls. Until he fell he was not sure that he could do that much of his own will. So at this small assertion of his desires, he regained a little of the confidence Geogee's actions had drained out of him.
“Look at him!” A foot kicked lightly against his shoulder, its movement was all he could see of the twins in his now limited field of vision. “You think he's going to escape?”
“All right,” Geogee conceded. “He won't be able to get away. And I'd better not give him another raying. Volney says they want him to be all right when they examine him.”
“Geogee!” thought Jony. Who or what was this Volney that the off-worlder had been able, in a period of days, to wipe out all Geogee's ties with those he had known since birth? He himself had hated the spacemen hotly when he had seen Yaa as a focus for their experiments. Now that hatred grew into a cold purpose within him. If they could so persuade Geogee, then they were even more like Big Ones. Geogee might not have the outward appearance of the mind-controlled, but he was thinking along a pattern these others had dictated. And for that also Jony wanted a reckoning. And Maba . . .
He had begun to sense she might be playing some game of her own. But that he dared trust her . . . no, of that he was not sure. If she did guide Geogee after the People, then even a small chance of victory would be lost.
Jony listened to the footfalls pacing away from him. He was not sure whether he could do anything to break the invisible bonds Geogee had netted around him. While the boy was in sight and could bring his weapon to bear again, he dared not even try.
Only deep silence now. Still Jony made no attempt to struggle. He was gathering all his power. Also what Maba had said: that the two spacemen who had fled might return, haunted him, kept him listening, until he decided he dared not wait any longer.
He concentrated on his right hand where it lay touching his cheek, willing fingers to move. There was a barrier there, yes, but not so great a one that he could not achieve a stirring. So heartened, he poured in all the strength he could summon. His fingers clawed, crawled ahead, as might the legs of a lethargic insect.
Though he had still very little real strength, he could move! How long would it take for the full influence of the weapon to wear off, if that ever would? He might have so very little time left. Palm lay flat now in the thick dust—stiffen wrist, raise arm, other hand the same. Now—heave!
Weakly, Jony brought himself up, though he felt that at any moment his arms might collapse and let him fall forward once again. He must do better! Somehow he fought to his knees. His head ached, waves of dizziness, in which all about him swung back and forth, assailed him.
That he could rise to his feet was clearly impossible. But he could still crawl. Crawl he did, half-choked by the dust his hands stirred up so close to his hanging head.
He was headed, he thought, toward the open front of the building where stood the stone woman. And he hoped that, in the open air, he might regain more of his strength. If he were allowed that long.
To his right were the piled boxes. Then shortly, just before him, the steps which raised the coffer holding the sleeper. How far was that point from the outer door? He could not remember now.
Jony crawled through the s
ilence of the stone place. He believed that he felt a little stronger as he went. The exercise might be breaking some of the hold over him. But he could not yet rise to his feet, and he must reserve all he could of his energy, lest he be called upon to exert himself fully by yet some other trial.
To the next pillar . . . and the next . . . and then a third. His throat was parched by the dust; he sneezed and coughed. But he would not pause, nor dared he even try to see how far away was his goal, for that might dishearten him.
The sound of his own panting, wheezing progress was suddenly overtopped by another noise. He knew that, had feared for a long time to hear it again: the buzz of an airborne flyer. Would the spacemen swoop overhead, use one of their weapons to stun anyone within the pile whether they could see their prey or not?
Sweat streaked through the dusty mask over Jony's face. He shivered as he crawled, waiting for such a blow to fall. However, the buzzing grew fainter. Were they in retreat toward the ship? Or else winging out to quarter over the ways of the city, hunting signs of any other party?
One pillar, another . . . His hands grew sore and raw as, his palms planted hard on the stones, he writhed and dragged himself forward to win the length of another open space.
Around him it was lighter! He must be nearing the outer door. Now he must think past that simple arrival in the open which had been his first goal. What would he do next? Crawl down into the city, wearily along the stone river? The open country beyond was too far, and he would be instantly sighted from the air were the flyer to return.
No, best seek out one of the other dens, hide until he knew whether time could make him whole again. If the only way one could recover from a stunner attack was through some agency of the spacemen, then he did not know what would become of him. That lurking fear he now resolutely battled into the far depths of his mind.
Jony came at last to the foot of the stone woman. His hands were so painful he could not force them into action again. Helplessly, almost hopelessly, he leaned his head and shoulders against the figure, and thereby was able to look back down the way he had crawled.