Hotang Lu came at the call of his fellow. He saw the tableau. Thompson
stricken rigid with mental effort, and Toralen Ki, tense and firm,
before him. The Little Man's eyes were closed lightly, and his hands
were clenched tight. Every muscle was tight in the mental effort,
trying to drive the Loard-vogh out of Thompson's mind.
The waves of mental energy spread. Invisible and silent, they were
not undetectable, for the men in the ships felt the waves of mental
bleakness and strife and knew a deep and unreasoning fear.
Toralen Ki fought--and Hotang Lu stood by. To connect himself into the
mental hookup at this point might destroy the balance. To destroy the
balance might permit the hated Loard-vogh to enter, and no matter how
brief the entry, it would be fatal.
So he waited, alert and ready to snap the transmentor over his head
if Toralen Ki failed. He would give the Loard-vogh no chance to get
set again; he would strike quickly while the Loard-vogh was still
recovering from the headlong success. For in the moment of mental
victory, the Loard-vogh's mind would be reeling forward like a man
forcing a door that suddenly gives way before him.
* * * * *
Thompson's frame was rigid, his eyes open but glassy and--but they were
not vacant. They were ablaze with an unreal light, the conflict in the
helpless mind behind the eyes energized them.
But--the machine was destroyed.
And--there were waves of mental energy in the Terran's mind.
The conflict raged, and despite the helplessness of the Terran's mind
and control, there was the untouchable subconscious that told him that
he must fight for the beliefs he had always held.
His faltering breath strengthened. His rigid muscles freed, slightly,
and the creases of sheer pain left his forehead. Still in fog, his mind
scanned the mental data. Two forces struggled for control--of _his_
mind. The thought came:
_Hurl them out!_
But one was--friendly--fighting for him.
The other was alien, inimical.
And with an effort of will, Thompson set his mind against the
Loard-vogh, and with the efforts of Toralen Ki and Hotang Lu, plus
their mental amplifier, Thompson hurled his weight of mind against the
invader.
Thompson was annoyed, confused and not too logical. To his mind, this
was sheer pain, caused by the Loard-vogh. He hurled his hatred at the
distant alien.
And the pressure of the conflict died. Thompson's body resumed its
natural looseness, and the light of reason returned to his eyes. He
smiled his usual smile and relaxed, breathing hard, and rubbing his
temples with the palms of his hands.
The severe headache was leaving with noticeable rapidity. He faced the
Little Men with an attitude of power and great will.
Hotang Lu stood in amazement.
Toralen Ki relaxed slightly also. They still faced one another, Little
Man and Terran. But in their attitude was a vague feeling that they
were fighting side by side.
And Hotang Lu understood. Toralen Ki intended to excite the minds of
Lane and Downing by forcing them, psychological opposites, into mental
contact. And he, Toralen Ki, was right now in bitter conflict with his
own mental opposite--the Loard-vogh. The mental energies released in
Thompson's mind had given the Terran the full and perfect control of
his own mental ability.
They opened their eyes, both of them.
"Won," said Thompson, wiping his brow.