VII
Gallifa rubbed his aching eyes and rested. How many hours had passedsince he had slept or eaten? It was fully light now, although the dawnsky was gray because of the clouds. A strong wind pulled at his hair,and the first heavy drops of another rainstorm pelted against his face.Gallifa moved under the half-top canvas and wished for a slicker. Therain was cold.
The crackle of small arms brought Gallifa to the edge of the truck. Hehadn't realized how still the camp really was. The tension was a livething, coiled in the wet air. There was no doubt the firing came fromthe mess hall. The bio team had all of the weapons.
Gallifa was sure he could stop the panic if he could contact the men. Ifonly they weren't so scattered. He had to try. He gave another quicklook at the hospital door, then sped around the Administration Building.
Something hit him from the side and hurled him joltingly to the sharpgravel. Gallifa rolled to a fighting crouch, dimly realizing that hisright arm was almost paralyzed. He shook his head hard against the pain.The man was Nolan--and he was the most frightened man Gallifa had everseen.
His face was convulsed with such abject terror that Gallifa was stunned.He was like an animal at bay, with all moving life his enemy. Gallifaremained perfectly still, his eyes on the surgeon's scalpel in Nolan'shand. Then from the mess hall came another rattle of fire.
Gallifa couldn't help jumping. Nolan drew his tight lips away from histeeth and gestured menacingly with the scalpel. Then a beefy armappeared from nowhere and struck the corpsman a chopping blow at thebase of the skull. He dropped the scalpel and fell silently to theground.
MacFarland stepped around the corner of the building.
Gallifa tried to rise, then gave way to the weakness of his limbs. Theground spun crazily past his face and he passed out.
"Gallifa! Snap out of it! Wake up, boy!"
Rough hands were shaking him. He opened his eyes.
"I didn't kill Doc," MacFarland said quietly. "There wasn't time toexplain. I had to act fast. He had enough knockout juice in that needleto put you away permanently."
Gallifa searched the other man's face. Then, slowly the tension went outof his features. "I heard shots?"
"Your boys took a few shots at me," MacFarland admitted. "I guess theythought I was rushing them."
Gallifa stared at Nolan. "We've got to contact the men before it's toolate," he said. "I know what caused the epidemic--and how to stop it.Anyway, temporarily. If I can only find some way to get them tolisten."
MacFarland said: "We'll find a way. Tell me about it."
"There's nothing wrong with this camp now but fear," Gallifa continuedwearily. "Or the _fear_ of fear. There wasn't any epidemic. It was thegnomes. It's all here in the micro-film."
MacFarland stared blankly.
"You know how we survey?" Gallifa said quickly. "We send out low-flying'copters and track the neural waves from all animal life. Later on,after we pick up some specimens, all the neural patterns on the tapesare matched. Otherwise, we wouldn't know one from the other. Thisinformation, along with other data, is fed to the analyzers and we getan excellent idea of the type and distribution of all life in a givenarea. The boys did a good job with the 'copters. They covered enoughterritory to provide all the data we need at present."
"So?" MacFarland asked.
"Somehow," Gallifa went on, "Samuels managed to get a neural trace fromthe natives before he went insane. It's right here in his report. Andthe trace matches perfectly with some of the patterns taken from the'copters. When I fed the patterns to the analyzers, I got some damnedstrange results. The analyzers classified the gnomes as an oversizedform of rodent, somewhat similar to rabbits and rats. This I suspected.What I hadn't suspected was that their neural wave was so strong itcould be projected as a physical impulse."
"I still don't see--" interjected MacFarland.
"It's simple," Gallifa said. "The natives are _mental skunks_. I don'tknow how they do it. Maybe we can't even find out. But I can guess howit works. The creatures transmit a neural charge as real as an electriccurrent. We don't yet know the range, but we've already seen it inaction."
"The cat!" MacFarland said.
Gallifa nodded. "The 'copter survey showed that where the instrumentslocated gnomes, there was very little other animal life in a wide area.Their charge may be deadly to a non-reasoning animal if it is exposedmore than a few moments. To a human it isn't deadly, but it'sdevastating. The charge must hurt the mind so badly that it defendsitself with the only bit of reasoning left. Kill or be killed. That'swhy our men turned homicidal."
"If this is true," MacFarland said soberly, "can we do anything aboutit? Can we destroy these creatures?"
"We can probably destroy them," Gallifa said slowly. "But remember therabbits in Australia? The gnomes are ecologically basic. They are by farthe most numerous animal in this area."
"Meaning," said MacFarland, "that if we killed them off here, they wouldswarm in from somewhere else? That will mean a running battle."
Gallifa smiled grimly at MacFarland's use of the future tense. "We mayhave to live with them for awhile. But our immediate problem is how toconvince the men that we can solve the present crisis--while we stillhave time."
"You'd never dare approach the mess hall," MacFarland warned.
The camp waited, wound up to the breaking point. Along about the middleof the afternoon, maybe before, all hell was going to bust loose. Unlesshe could stop it.
He suddenly grabbed MacFarland's arm. "Mac!" he asked eagerly. "Thegenerator. Do you know if it's still working?"
A look of understanding crossed MacFarland's face. "The bull horn. Ofcourse! Everyone in camp can hear the bull horn."
They made it past the mess hall without drawing any fire. A few momentslater the resonant voice of the loudspeaker was booming across the camp.Gallifa spoke slowly, methodically, trying to convince and reassure. Hepaused, then once more repeated the plea.
He almost gave up. Then slowly the mapping gang edged into the open andfiled toward the Administration room. Finally the bio team left the messhall, and Gallifa let the heavy horn drop. What now? The presentnightmare was almost over, but what of the future?
"We will be able to control the gnomes locally," MacFarland said,seeming almost to guess his thoughts. "As we expand, they will have togive."
"Maybe," Gallifa said. "But just because they are rodents. Don'tunderestimate their possibilities.
"The creatures of this planet have never been pressed. Nothing has beenable to push them up the evolutionary ladder. We'll be the toughestenvironment they've ever faced, for we know the power of their defensivemechanism. How well will we be able to compete if they learn to use itas an offensive weapon?"
"We can't," MacFarland said.
"We know it's selective," Gallifa corrected. "They didn't bother eitherSamuels or myself when we first contacted them. We also know all of thestricken men weren't actively molesting gnomes. Therefore, some were hitdue to the actions of others. The only question is--how selective istheir power?"
"Then how _can_ we handle them?" MacFarland questioned soberly.
Gallifa shrugged. "I don't know," he said simply. "We're committed here,and we'll stay. This isn't the first time the human race has beenchallenged--it won't be the last."
Gallifa turned and walked toward the Administration Building. Humans hadsolved a hundred problems on a hundred planets. Problems existed to besolved. This one, too, would be solved. But no matter how hard or howeasy, it would be an experiment.
As all humanity was an experiment.
[Footnote: _Melvin Sturgis is a mechanical engineer employed by_ROCKETDYNE, _Propulsion field laboratory--a division of North AmericanAviation, Inc. Like many another brilliant young technician with anextra-curricular, electronic string to his bow he has also been afree-lance magazine writer for the past five years. We think you'llagree he has scored heavily here, on the planet of a far-off star!_]
Thank you for reading books on Book
From.Net Share this book with friends