Nuwell turned to Maya, and his face was bitter and sullen. His brown
eyes were flat with anger.
"You treacherous witch, I should have known better than to trust you
after that trick of trying to help Kensington escape. I wanted to give
you a chance, because I thought that, with him dead, you might have
recovered from your madness," he said.
A change came over his face: a mixture of fear, disbelief and utter lack
of comprehension.
"He _was_ dead," said Nuwell, a hysterical note underlying his tone. "I
saw him. You saw him dead, too, didn't you, Maya? How could he be back
there with you?"
Maya's only answer was a defiant smile.
"There's some explanation for this," said Nuwell, more positively. "I
don't know what it is, but I'll find it. That man back there isn't Dark
Kensington, because Kensington's dead. Maya, I promise you, I'm going to
find out what the answer is, but first I'm going to make sure that you
don't cause me any more trouble."
Dark touched Maya's mind.
_Maya, I'm going to try something here._
He moved back. He was outside the copter, near it, keeping pace with it
as it flew. It was tilted slightly forward, falling forward through the
sky at the pull of its blades.
Dark seized the copter with his mind. He tried to drag it back.
It hesitated. It quivered. Then it jerked forward and went on. He felt
his mental grasp slipping from it.
Suddenly he was completely in the big room in Ultra Vires, the room with
its roof open to the sky. He could no longer touch the copter. He could
no longer be in it. He could no longer touch Maya's mind.
He tried. He reached out again. But he failed. He was where he was.
He realized he was almost exhausted. The tremendous drain of his efforts
on his energy told on him at last. He no longer had the strength to try
any more, and Nuwell and Maya were gone away from him into the Martian
sky.
Wearily, he turned back and went through the airlock, down the corridor
and down the stairs.
There was nothing more he could do now. Nuwell undoubtedly would take
Maya to Mars City. And then?
Maya would refuse to marry Nuwell now, and Dark doubted that Nuwell
could force her. What Nuwell would do with her, he did not know.
Probably some sort of confinement, eventually perhaps a trial. But
Nuwell had no ground or reason to do her any real harm.
He would have to try to get to Maya as soon as he could, and that meant
intensification of his efforts. But there was only one course he could
hope to follow successfully, and that was the course he had planned when
he started out for Ultra Vires.
Only now he _could_ speed it up.
He had to have some rest. Then he would pick up three marsuits and walk
back across the desert to the Canfell Hydroponic Farm.
15
Dark walked across the desert toward the Canfell Hydroponic Farm.
He had discarded the marsuit he had been wearing, and substituted for it
a light loincloth torn from one of Goat Hennessey's sheets. This
reverse reaction, in a temperature that would be uncomfortably chilly
for a fully clothed man and descended far below zero at night, resulted
from his recognition that he gained a tremendously greater direct influx
of energy from the total exposure of his skin to the sunlight. He could
feel the energy penetrating his flesh, building up in him. And, with
this energy, the low temperature did not bother him.
Behind him, by a rope, he dragged a little two-wheeled cart he had
constructed from groundcar parts. It rolled and bumped over the sandy
terrain, containing all the marsuits and all the seven heatguns that he
had been able to find at Ultra Vires.
It also contained a supply of water, in cans. Dark had found that, while
he was operating directly on solar energy, he did not need food at all
and he did not need as much water as he did under ordinary
circumstances. He probably could have survived two weeks without any
water at all. But some water did make him much more efficient. His
independence of food and oxygen did not prevent the slow dessication if
his tissues in the dry Martian air.
As he walked, only part of his mind was devoted to the routine task of
moving across the desert. The remainder of it was free of the limitation
of distance, touching and interacting with the minds of three other men.
These men were members of the Phoenix. At the Childress Barber College,
they had been among the instructors, struggling to develop the ESP
potentialities of their students so that a psychic community of purpose
and action might be developed toward the goal of teleporting materials
from Earth to Mars.
These were the men whose ability at telepathy and psychokinesis had been
most fully developed, to the point of practical demonstration. Now,
newly aware of the extent of his own inner powers, Dark had conceived a
bold plan of action to which these men's comparable abilities was a
necessary contribution.
There were three of them: Mantar Falusaine at Hesperidum, Pietro
Corrallani at Mars City and Cheng I K'an at Ophir. Among them, by a vast
intangible network of communication, they discussed strategy and the
situation on which it was based.
Mantar: _We knew of the existence of the Canfell Hydroponic Farm. It was
on our charts as a Marscorp industry, supported by the government. But
we thought it was only an industry, producing food. We did not know it
was an experimental center._
Cheng: _We did not know Marscorp was conducting genetic experiments at
all, except those of Goat Hennessey. We kept a casual observation on
Goat's work. Our intention was that, if he ever succeeded completely in
what he was trying to do, we would make a fast raid with a task force
and appropriate his work to our own purposes._
Dark chuckled.
Dark: _That would have dismayed Marscorp! But it appears that, as things
have developed, this sort of raid must be directed now at the Canfell
Hydroponic Farm, to free my father and the Marscorp slaves there. Old
Beard is, after all, the real leader of the Phoenix. If we succeed in
kidnapping Goat, we can put him to work for us, but that is not the
primary objective._
Pietro: _Do you plan to take over the Canfell Hydroponic Farm, and make
it our base of operation?_
Dark: _No. When we attack the Farm, they will radio Mars City for help
and we don't possess the force to fight off an all-out government
counterattack. I have been in communication with a Martian friend, Qril,
and I am informed that the domes in the Icaria Desert, which were used
by the original rebels a quarter of a century ago, are still usable,
although they will have to be supplied with oxygen, food and water. I
intend for the Phoenix to congregate there and utilize the help of the
Martians in carrying out the embryonic changes which will make your
children and mine as I am. A new race, capable of living in the natural
Martian environment._
Pietro: _Will these characteristics of which you speak be inherited, or
must the embryonic changes be made in each generation?_
Dark: _They will be inherited, because they are changes of the genetic
structure. The changes will have to be made on each individual embryo of
your children, but their children will be born with these qualities
naturally._