Planet of the Damned Read online

  IX

  The guard inside the front entrance of the Foundation buildingjumped at the thunderous noise and reached for his gun. He droppedhis hand sheepishly when he realized it was only a sneeze--though agargantuan one. Brion came up, sniffling, huddling down into hiscoat. "I'm going out before I catch pneumonia," he said. The guardsaluted dumbly, and after checking his proximity detector screens heslipped out and the heavy portal thudded shut behind him. The streetwas still warm from the heat of the day and he sighed happily andopened his coat.

  This was partly a reconnaissance trip--and partly a way of gettingwarmed up. There was little else he could do in the building; thestaff had long since retired. He had slept for a half an hour, andhad waked refreshed and ready to work. All of the reports he couldunderstand had been read and reread until they were memorized. Hecould use the time now, while the rest of them were asleep, to getbetter acquainted with the main city of Dis.

  As he walked the dark streets he realized how alien the Disan way oflife was to everything he knew. This city--Hovedstad--literallymeant "main place" in the native language. And that's all it was. Itwas only the presence of the offworlders that made it into a city.Building after building, standing deserted, bore the names of miningcompanies, traders, space transporters. None of them was occupiednow. Some still had lights burning, switched on by automaticapparatus, others were as dark as the Disan structures. Thereweren't many of these native constructions and they seemed out ofplace among the rammed earth and prefab offworld buildings. Brionexamined one that was dimly illuminated by the light on the cornerof VEGAN SMELTERS, LTD.

  It consisted of a single large room, resting right on the ground.There were no windows, and the whole thing appeared to have beenconstructed of some sort of woven material plastered with stone-hardmud. Nothing was blocking the door and he was thinking seriously ofgoing in when he became aware that he was being followed.

  It was only a slight noise, almost lost in the night. Normally itwould never have been noticed, but tonight Brion was listening withhis entire body. Someone was behind him, swallowed up in the poolsof darkness. Brion shrank back against the wall. There was verylittle chance this could be anyone but a Disan. He had a suddenmemory of Mervv's severed head as it had been discovered outside thedoor.

  Ihjel had helped him train his empathetic sense and he reached outwith it. It was difficult working in the dark; he could be sure ofnothing. Was he getting a reaction--or just wishing for one? Why didit have a ring of familiarity to it? A sudden idea struck him.

  "Ulv," he said, very softly. "This is Brion." He crouched, readyfor any attack.

  "I know," a voice said softly in the night. "Do not talk. Walkin the direction you were going before."

  Asking questions now would accomplish nothing. Brion turnedinstantly and did as he was bidden. The buildings grew further apartuntil he realized from the sand underfoot that he was back in theplanet-wide desert. It could be a trap--he hadn't recognized thevoice behind the whisper--yet he had to take this chance. A darkershape appeared in the dark night near him, and a burning hot handtouched his arm lightly.

  "I will walk ahead. Follow close behind me." The words were louderand this time Brion recognized the voice.

  Without waiting for an answer, Ulv turned and his dimly seen shapevanished into the darkness. Brion moved swiftly after him, untilthey walked side by side over the rolling hills of sand. The sandmerged into hard-baked ground, became cracked and scarred withrock-filled gulleys. They followed a deepening gulley that grew intoa good-sized ravine. When they turned an angle of the ravine Brionsaw a weak yellow light coming from an opening in the hard dirtwall.

  Ulv dropped on all fours and vanished through the shoulder-widehole. Brion followed him, trying to ignore the growing tension andunease he felt. Crawling like this, head down, he was terriblyvulnerable. He tried to shrug off the feeling, mentally blaming iton tense nerves.

  The tunnel was short and opened into a larger chamber. A suddenscuffle of feet sounded at the same instant that a wave ofempathetic hatred struck him. It took vital seconds to fight his wayout of the trapping tunnel, to roll clear and bring his gun up.During those seconds he should have died. The Disan poised above himhad the short-handled stone hammer raised to strike a skull-crushingblow.

  Ulv was clutching the man's wrist, fighting silently to keep thehammer from falling. Neither combatant said a word, the rasp oftheir calloused feet on the sand the only sound. Brion backed awayfrom the struggling men, his gun centered on the stranger. The Disanfollowed him with burning eyes, and dropped the hammer as soon as itwas obvious the attack had failed.

  "Why did you bring him here?" he growled at Ulv. "Why didn't youkill him?"

  "He is here so we can listen to what he says, Gebk. He is the oneI told you of, that I found in the desert."

  "We listen to what he says and then we kill him," Gebk said with amirthless grin. The remark wasn't meant to be humorous, but was madein all seriousness. Brion recognized this and knew that there was nodanger for the present moment. He slid the gun away, and for thefirst time looked around the chamber.

  It was domed in shape and was still hot from the heat of the day.Ulv took off the length of cloth he had wrapped around his bodyagainst the chill, and refolded it as a kilt, strapping it on underhis belt artifacts. He grunted something unintelligible and whena muttered answer came, Brion for the first time became aware ofthe woman and the child.

  The two sat against the far wall, squatting on either side of a heapof fibrous plants. Both were nude, clothed only in the matted hairthat fell below their shoulders. The belt of strange tools could notbe classified as clothing. Even the child wore a tiny replica of hermother's. Putting down a length of plant she had been chewing, thewoman shuffled over to the tiny fire that illuminated the room. Aclay pot stood over it, and from this she ladled three bowls of foodfor the men. It smelled atrocious, and Brion tried not to taste orsmell the sickening mixture while he ate it. He used his fingers, asdid the other men, and did not talk while he ate. There was no wayto tell if the silence was ritual or habit. It gave him a chance fora closer look at the Disan way of living.

  The cave was obviously hand-made; tool marks could be clearly seenin the hard clay of the walls, except in the portion opposite theentrance. This was covered with a network of roots, rising out ofthe floor and vanishing into the roof of earth above. Perhaps thiswas the reason for the cave's existence. The thin roots had beencarefully twisted and plaited together until they formed a singleswollen root in the center, as thick as a man's arm. From this hungfour of the vaedes: Ulv had placed his there before he sat down. Theteeth must have instantly sunk in, for it hung unsupported--anotherlink in the Disan life cycle. This appeared to be the source of thevaede's water that nourished the people.

  Brion was aware of eyes upon him and turned and smiled at the littlegirl. She couldn't have been over six years old, but she was alreadya Disan in every way. She neither returned his smile nor changed herexpression, unchildlike in its stolidity. Her hands and jaw neverstopped as she worked on the lengths of fibrous plant her mother hadplaced before her. The child split them with a small tool andremoved a pod of some kind. This was peeled--partially by scrapingwith a different tool, and partially by working between her teeth.It took long minutes to remove the tough rind; the results seemedscarcely worth it. A tiny wriggling object was finally disclosedwhich the girl instantly swallowed. She then began working on thenext pod.

  Ulv put down his clay bowl and belched. "I brought you to the cityas I told you I would," he said. "Have you done as you said youwould?"

  "What did he promise?" Gebk asked.

  "That he would stop the war. Have you stopped it?"

  "I am trying to stop it," Brion said. "But it is not that easy.I'll need some help. It is your life that needs saving--yours andyour families'. If you would help me--"

  "What is the truth?" Ulv broke in savagely. "All I hear isdifference, and there is no longer any way to tell truth. For aslong as always we hav
e done as the magter say. We bring them foodand they give us the metal and sometimes water when we need it. Aslong as we do as they ask they do not kill us. They live the wrongway, but I have had bronze from them for my tools. They have told usthat they are getting a world for us from the sky people, and thatis good."

  "It has always been known that the sky people are evil in every way,and only good can come from killing them," Gebk said.

  Brion stared back at the two Disans and their obvious hatred. "Thenwhy didn't you kill me, Ulv?" he asked. "That first time in thedesert, or tonight when you stopped Gebk?"

  "I could have. But there was something more important. What is the truth?Can we believe as we have always done? Or should we listen to this?"

  He threw a small sheet of plastic to Brion, no bigger than the palmof his hand. A metal button was fastened to one corner of the wafer,and a simple drawing was imbedded in the wafer. Brion held it to thelight and saw a picture of a man's hand squeezing the button betweenthumb and forefinger. It was a subminiaturized playback; mechanicalpressure on the case provided enough current to play the recordedmessage. The plastic sheet vibrated, acting as a loudspeaker.

  Though the voice was thin and scratchy, the words were clearlyaudible. It was an appeal for the Disan people not to listen to themagter. It explained that the magter had started a war that couldhave only one ending--the destruction of Dis. Only if the magterwere thrown down and their weapons discovered could there be anyhope.

  "Are these words true?" Ulv asked.

  "Yes," Brion said.

  "They are perhaps true," Gebk said, "but there is nothing that wecan do. I was with my brother when these word-things fell out of thesky and he listened to one and took it to the magter to ask them.They killed him, as he should have known they would do. The magterkill us if they know we listen to the words."

  "And the words tell us we will die if we listen to the magter!" Ulvshouted, his voice cracking. Not with fear, but with frustration atthe attempt to reconcile two opposite points of view. Up until thistime his world had consisted of black and white values, with veryfew shadings of difference in between.

  "There are things you can do that will stop the war without hurtingyourself or the magter," Brion said, searching for a way to enlisttheir aid.

  "Tell us," Ulv grunted.

  "There would be no war if the magter could be contacted, made tolisten to reason. They are killing you all. You could tell me howto talk to the magter, how I could understand them--"

  "No one can talk to the magter," the woman broke in. "If you saysomething different they will kill you as they killed Gebk'sbrother. So they are easy to understand. That is the way they are.They do not change." She put the length of plant she had beensoftening for the child back into her mouth. Her lips were deeplygrooved and scarred from a lifetime of this work, her teeth at thesides worn almost to the bone.

  "Mor is right," Ulv said. "You do not talk to magter. What else isthere to do?"

  Brion looked at the two men before he spoke, and shifted his weight.The motion brought his fingertips just a few inches from his gun."The magter have bombs that will destroy Nyjord--this is the nextplanet, a star in your sky. If I can find where the bombs are, Iwill have them taken away and there will be no war."

  "You want to aid the devils in the sky against our own people!"Gebk shouted, half rising. Ulv pulled him back to the ground,but there was no more warmth in his voice as he spoke.

  "You are asking too much. You will leave now."

  "Will you help me, though? Will you help stop the war?" Brion asked,aware he had gone too far, but unable to stop. Their anger wasmaking them forget the reasons for his being there.

  "You ask too much," Ulv said again. "Go back now. We will talk about it."

  "Will I see you again? How can I reach you?"

  "We will find you if we wish to talk to you," was all Ulv said. Ifthey decided he was lying he would never see them again. There wasnothing he could do about it.

  "I have made up my mind," Gebk said, rising to his feet and drawinghis cloth up until it covered his shoulders. "You are lying and thisis all a lie of the sky people. If I see you again I will kill you."He stepped to the tunnel and was gone.

  There was nothing more to be said. Brion went out next--checkingcarefully to be sure that Gebk really had left--and Ulv guided himto the spot where the lights of Hovedstad were visible. He did notspeak during their return journey and vanished without a word. Brionshivered in the night chill of the air and wrapped his coat moretightly around himself. Depressed, he walked back towards the warmerstreets of the city.

  It was dawn when he reached the Foundation building; a new guardwas at the front entrance. No amount of hammering or threats couldconvince the man to open until Faussel came down, yawning andblinking with sleep. He was starting some complaint when Brion cuthim off curtly and ordered him to finish dressing and report forwork at once. Still feeling elated, Brion hurried into his officeand cursed the overly efficient character who had turned on his airconditioner to chill the room again. When he turned it off this timehe removed enough vital parts to keep it out of order for theduration.

  When Faussel came in he was still yawning behind his fist--obviouslya low morning-sugar type. "Before you fall on your face, go out andget some coffee," Brion said. "Two cups. I'll have a cup too."

  "That won't be necessary," Faussel said, drawing himself up stiffly."I'll call the canteen if you wish some." He said it in the iciesttone he could manage this early in the morning.

  In his enthusiasm Brion had forgotten the hate campaign he haddirected against himself. "Suit yourself," he said shortly, gettingback into the role. "But the next time you yawn there'll be anegative entry in your service record. If that's clear--you canbrief me on this organization's visible relations with the Disans.How do they take us?"

  Faussel choked and swallowed a yawn. "I believe they look on theC.R.F. people as some species of simpleton, sir. They hate alloffworlders; memory of their desertion has been passed on verballyfor generations. So by their one-to-one logic we should either hateback or go away. We stay instead. And give them food, water,medicine and artifacts. Because of this they let us remain onsufferance. I imagine they consider us do-gooder idiots, and as longas we cause no trouble they'll let us stay." He was strugglingmiserably to suppress a yawn, so Brion turned his back and gave hima chance to get it out.

  "What about the Nyjorders? How much do they know of our work?" Brionlooked out the window at dusty buildings, outlined in purple againstthe violent colors of the desert sunrise.

  "Nyjord is a cooperating planet, and has full knowledge at allexecutive levels. They are giving us all the aid they can."

  "Well, now is the time to ask for more. Can I contact the commanderof the blockading fleet?"

  "There is a scrambler connection right through to him. I'll set itup." Faussel bent over the desk and punched a number into the phonecontrols. The screen flowed with the black and white patterns of thescrambler.

  "That's all, Faussel," Brion said. "I want privacy for this talk.What's the commander's name?"

  "Professor Krafft--he's a physicist. They have no military men atall, so they called him in for the construction of the bombs andenergy weapons. He's still in charge." Faussel yawned extravagantlyas he went out the door.

  The Professor-Commander was very old, with wispy grey hair anda network of wrinkles surrounding his eyes. His image shimmered,then cleared as the scrambler units aligned.

  "You must be Brion Brandd," he said. "I have to tell you how sorrywe all are that your friend Ihjel and the two others--had to die,after coming so far to help us. I'm sure you are very happy to havehad a friend like that."

  "Why ... yes, of course," Brion said, reaching for the scatteredfragments of his thought processes. It took an effort to rememberthe first conflict, now that he was worrying about the death of aplanet. "It's very kind of you to mention it. But I would like tofind out a few things from you, if I could."

  "Anything at all; w
e are at your disposal. Before we begin, though,I shall pass on the thanks of our council for your aid in joiningus. Even if we are eventually forced to drop the bombs, we shallnever forget that your organization did everything possible toavert the disaster."

  Once again Brion was caught off balance. For an instant he wonderedif Krafft was being insincere, then recognized the baseness of thisthought. The completeness of the man's humanity was obvious andcompelling. The thought passed through Brion's mind that now he hadan additional reason for wanting the war ended without destructionon either side. He very much wanted to visit Nyjord and see thesepeople on their home grounds.

  Professor Krafft waited, patiently and silently, while Brion pulledhis thoughts together and answered. "I still hope that this thingcan be stopped in time. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.I want to see Lig-magte and I thought it would be better if I hada legitimate reason. Are you in contact with him?"

  Krafft shook his head. "No, not really in contact. When this troublestarted I sent him a transceiver so we could talk directly. But hehas delivered his ultimatum, speaking for the magter. The only termshe will hear are unconditional surrender. His receiver is on, buthe has said that is the only message he will answer."

  "Not much chance of him ever being told that," Brion said.

  "There was--at one time. I hope you realize, Brion, that thedecision to bomb Dis was not easily arrived at. A great manypeople--myself included--voted for unconditional surrender.We lost the vote by a very small margin."

  Brion was getting used to these philosophical body blows and herolled with the punches now. "Are there any of your people left onthis planet? Or do you have any troops I can call on for help? Thisis still a remote possibility, but if I do find out where the bombsor the launchers are, a surprise raid would knock them out."

  "We have no people left in Hovedstad now--all the ones who weren'tevacuated were killed. But there are commando teams standing by hereto make a landing if the weapons are detected. The Disans mustdepend on secrecy to protect their armament, since we have boththe manpower and the technology to reach any objective. We alsohave technicians and other volunteers looking for the weapon sites.They have not been successful as yet, and most of them were killedsoon after landing."

  Krafft hesitated for a moment. "There is another group you shouldknow about; you will need all the factors. Some of our people are inthe desert outside of Hovedstad. We do not officially approve ofthem, though they have a good deal of popular support. They aremostly young men, operating as raiders, killing and destroying withvery little compunction. They are attempting to uncover the weaponsby sheer strength of arms."

  This was the best news yet. Brion controlled his voice and kept hisexpression calm when he spoke. "I don't know how far I can stretchyour cooperation--but could you possibly tell me how to get in touchwith them?"

  Kraft allowed himself a small smile. "I'll give you the wave lengthon which you can reach their radio. They call themselves the 'Nyjordarmy.' When you talk to them you can do me a favor. Pass on amessage. Just to prove things aren't bad enough, they've becomea little worse. One of our technical crews has detected jump-spaceenergy transmissions in the planetary crust. The Disans areapparently testing their projector, sooner than we had estimated.Our deadline has been revised by one day. I'm afraid there are onlytwo days left before you must evacuate." His eyes were large withcompassion. "I'm sorry. I know this will make your job that muchharder."

  Brion didn't want to think about the loss of a full day from hisalready close deadline. "Have you told the Disans this yet?"

  "No," Krafft told him. "The decision was reached a few minutesbefore your call. It is going on the radio to Lig-magte now."

  "Can you cancel the transmission and let me take the message inperson?"

  "I can do that." Krafft thought for a moment. "But it would surelymean your death at their hands. They have no hesitation in killingany of our people. I would prefer to send it by radio."

  "If you do that you will be interfering with my plans, and perhapsdestroying them under the guise of saving my life. Isn't my lifemy own--to dispose of as I will?"

  For the first time Professor Krafft was upset. "I'm sorry, terriblysorry. I'm letting my concern and worry wash over into my publicaffairs. Of course you may do as you please; I could never think ofstopping you." He turned and said something inaudible offscreen."The call is cancelled. The responsibility is yours. All our wishesfor success go with you. End of transmission."

  "End of transmission," Brion said, and the screen went dark.

  "Faussel!" he shouted into the intercom. "Get me the best andfastest sand car we have, a driver who knows his way around, and twomen who can handle a gun and know how to take orders. We're going toget some positive action at last."