"You still intend to use the Senla Starlight Cruisers to get out into
space?" Rane asked.
"Kilby and I will," Halder said. "But now, of course, you two had better
select one of the alternate escape routes."
"Why that?" Santin asked sharply.
Halder looked at her. "That's obvious, isn't it? There's a good chance
you're still completely in the clear."
"That's possible. But it isn't a good enough reason for splitting up.
We're a working team, and we should stay together, regardless of
circumstances. What do you say, Rane?"
Her husband said, "I agree with you." He smiled briefly at Halder.
"We'll be waiting for you on the north shore of Lake Senla ten minutes
before the Starlight Cruise lifts. Now, is there anything else to
discuss?"
"Not at the moment." Halder paused, dissatisfied, then went on. "All
right. We still don't know just what the Federation is capable of ...
one move might as easily be wrong as the other. We'll pick you up, as
arranged. Kilby and I are flighthiking on to Senla, so we might as well
start immediately."
They went into the second room of the underground hideout. Rane turned
to the exit portal's controls, asked, "Where shall I let you out?"
"We'll take the river exit," Halder said. "Six miles from here, nine
from the ranch ... that should be far enough. We'll be lost in an army
of vacationers from Draise and the capital thirty seconds after we
emerge."
* * * * *
It was dusk when Halder and Kilby turned into the crowded shore walk of
the lake resort of Senla, moving unhurriedly towards a bungalow Halder
had bought under another name some months before. Halder's thoughts went
again over the details of the final stage of their escape from Orado.
Essentially, the plan was simple. An hour from now they would slide
their small star cruiser out of the bungalow's yacht stall, pick up Rane
and Santin on the far shore of the lake, then join the group of thirty
or so private yachts which left the resort area nightly for a two-hour
flight to a casino ship stationed off the planet. A group cruise was
unlikely to draw official scrutiny even tonight; and after reaching the
casino, they should be able to slip on unobserved into space.
There was, however, no way of knowing with certainty that the plan ...
or any other plan ... would work. It was only during the past few months
that the four of them had begun to understand in detail the extent to
which the vast, apparently loose complex of the Federation's worlds was
actually organized. How long they had been under observation, how much
the Federation suspected or knew about them--those questions were, at
the moment, unanswerable. So Halder walked on in alert silence, giving
his attention to anything which might be a first indication of danger in
the crowds surging quietly past them along Senla's shore promenade in
the summer evening. It was near the peak of the resort's season; a
sense of ease and relaxation came from the people he passed, their
voices seeming to blend into a single, low-pitched, friendly murmur.
Well, and in time, Halder told himself, if everything went well, he and
Kilby might be able to mingle undisguised, unafraid, with just such a
crowd. But tonight they were hunted.
He laid his hand lightly on Kilby's arm, said, "Let's rest on that bench
over there for a moment."
She smiled up at him, said, "All right," turned and led the way towards
an unoccupied bench set back among the trees above the walk. They sat
down, and Halder quickly slipped the watch off his wrist and removed the
scanner's cover plate. The bungalow was a few hundred yards away now, on
a side path which led down to the lake. It was showing no lights, but as
the scanner reached into it, invisible radiation flooded the dark rooms
and hallway, disclosing them to the instrument's inspection. For two or
three minutes, Halder studied the bungalow's interior carefully; then he
shifted the view to the grounds outside, finally to the yacht stall and
the little star cruiser. Twice Kilby touched him warningly as somebody
appeared about to approach the bench, and Halder put down his hand. But
the strangers went by without pausing.
At last, he replaced the instrument on his wrist. He had discovered no
signs of intrusion in the bungalow; and, at any rate, it was clear that
no one was waiting there now, either in the little house itself or in
the immediate vicinity. He stood up, and put out his hand to assist
Kilby to her feet.
"We'll go on," he said.
A few minutes later, they came along a narrow garden path to the
bungalow's dark side entrance. There was to be no indication tonight
that the bungalow had occupants. Halder unlocked the door quietly, and
after Kilby had slipped inside, he stepped in behind her and secured the
door.
For an instant, as they moved along the short, lightless passage to the
front rooms, a curious sensation touched Halder--a terrifying conviction
that some undefinable thing had just gone wrong. And with that, his
whole body was suddenly rigid, every muscle locking in mid-motion. He
felt momentum topple him slowly forwards; then he was no longer falling
but stopped, tilted off-balance at a grotesque angle, suspended in a web
of forces he could not feel. Not the slightest sound had come from
Kilby, invisible in the blackness ahead of him.
Halder threw all his will and strength into the effort to force motion
back into his body. Instead, a wave of cold numbness washed slowly up
through him. It welled into his brain, and for a time all thought and
sensation ended.
* * * * *
His first new awareness was a feeling of being asleep and not knowing
how to wake up. There was no disturbance associated with it. All about
was darkness, complete and quiet.
With curious deliberation, Halder's senses now began bringing other
things to his attention. He was seated, half reclining, in a deep and
comfortable chair, his back against it. He seemed unable to move. His
arms were secured in some manner to the chair's armrests; but, beyond
that, he also found it impossible to lift his body forwards or, he
discovered next, to turn his head in any direction. He was breathing
normally, and he could open and shut his eyes and glance about in
unchanging darkness. But that was all.
Still with a dreamlike lack of concern, Halder began to ask himself what
had happened; and in that instant, with a rush of hot terror, his memory
opened out. They had been trapped ... some undetectable trick of
Federation science had waited for them in the bungalow at Lake Senla. He
had been taken somewhere else.
What had they done with Kilby?
Immediately, almost as if in answer to his question, the darkness seemed
to lighten. But the process was gradual; seconds passed before Halder
gained the impression of a very large room of indefinite proportions.
Twenty feet away was the rim of a black, circular depression in the
flooring. At first, his chair seemed the only piece of furnishing here;
then, as the area continued to brighten, Halder became aware of several
objects at some distance on his right.
For an instant, he strained violently to turn his head towards them.
That was still impossible, but the objects were there, near the edge of
his vision. Again the great room grew lighter, and for seconds Halder
could distinguish three armchairs like his own, spaced perhaps twenty
feet apart along the rim of the central pit. Each chair had an occupant;
in the nearest was Kilby, restored to her natural appearance,
motionless, pale face turned forwards, eyes open. Suddenly the light
vanished.
Halder sat shocked, realizing he had tried to speak to Kilby and that no
sound had come from his throat. Neither speech nor motion was allowed
them here. But he didn't doubt that Kilby was awake, or that Santin and
Rane Rellis were in the farther chairs, though he hadn't seen either of
them clearly. Their captors had given them a brief glimpse of one
another, perhaps to let them know all had been caught. Then, as the
light disappeared, Halder's glance had shifted for an instant to his
right hand lying on the armrest--long enough to see that the dark tinge
was gone from his skin, as it was from Kilby's, that he, too, had been
deprived of the organisms which disguised him.
And that, his studies in Draise had showed clearly, was something the
Federation's science would be a century away from knowing how to do
unless it learned about Kalechi's deadly skills.
Once more, it was almost as if the thought were being given an answer.
In the darkness of the room a bright image appeared, three-dimensional,
not quite a sphere in form, tiger-striped in orange and black, balanced
on a broad, bifurcated swimming tail. Stalked eyes protruded from the
top of the sphere; their slit pupils seemed to be staring directly at
Halder. Down both sides ran a row of ropy arms.
* * * * *
Simultaneously with the appearance of this projection, a man's voice
began to speak, not loudly but distinctly. Dreamlike again, the voice
seemed to have no specific source, as if it were coming from every
direction at once; and a numbing conviction arose in Halder that their
minds were being destroyed in this room, that a methodical dissecting
process had begun which would continue move by move and hour by hour
until the Federation's scientists were satisfied that no further scraps
of information could be drained from the prisoners. The investigation
might be completely impersonal; but the fact that they were being
ignored here as sentient beings, were not permitted to argue their case
or offer an explanation, seemed more chilling than deliberate brutality.
And yet, Halder told himself, he couldn't really blame anyone for the
situation they were in. The Kalechi group represented an urgent and
terrible threat. The Federation could not afford to make any mistakes in
dealing with it.
"This image," the voice was saying, "represents a Great Satog, the
oxygen-breathing, water-dwelling native of the world of Kalechi. There
are numerous type-variations of the species. Shown here is the dominant
form. It is highly intelligent; approximately a third of a Satog's body
space is occupied by its brain.
"Kalechi's civilization is based on an understanding of biological
processes and the means of their manipulation which is well in advance
of our own. This specialized interest appears to have developed from the
Satogs' genetic instability, a factor which they have learned to control
and to use to their advantage. At present, they have established
themselves on at least a dozen other worlds, existing on each in a
modified form which is completely adapted to the new environment.
"Our occasional contacts with Kalechi and its colonies during the past
two centuries have been superficially friendly, but it appears now that
the Great Satogs have regarded our technological and numerical
superiority with alarm and have cast about for a method to destroy the
Federation without risk to themselves. A weapon was on hand--their great
skill and experience in altering genetic patterns in established life
forms to produce desired changes. They devised the plan of distributing
Kalechi agents secretly throughout the Federation. These were to develop
and store specific strains of primitive organisms which, at an indicated
later date, would sweep our major worlds simultaneously with an
unparalleled storm of plagues.
"The most audacious part of the Kalechi scheme follows. Ninety-two years
ago, a Federation survey ship disappeared in that sector of the galaxy.
Aboard it was a man named Ohl Cantrall, an outstanding scientist of the
period. We know now that this ship was captured by the Great Satogs, and
that Cantrall, his staff, and his crew, were subjected to extensive
experimentation by them, and eventually were killed.
"The experimentation had been designed to provide Kalechi's
master-biologists with models towards which to work. They proposed to
utilize the high mutability of their species to develop a Satog type
that would be the exact physical counterpart of a human being and could
live undetected on our worlds for the several years required to prepare
for the attack. They were amazingly successful. Each group of cells in
the long series which began moving towards an approximation of the human
pattern was developed only far enough to initiate the greatest favorable
shift possible at that point in its genetic structure. Cell generations
may have followed each other within hours in this manner, for over six
decades.
"The goal of the experiment, the last generation issued in Kalechi's
laboratories, were Satog copies of embryonic human beings. This stage
was comprised of approximately twelve hundred individuals who were now
permitted to mature and were schooled individually in complete isolation
by Satog teachers. They were indoctrinated with their purpose in
life ... the destruction of our populations ... and trained fully in
the manner of accomplishing it.
"Eventually, each was shipped to a Federation world. Cover identities as
obscure Federation citizens with backgrounds and records had been
prepared. The final instructions given these agents were simple. They
were to do nothing to draw attention to themselves, make no attempt to
contact one another. They were to create their stocks of lethal
organisms, provide methods of distribution and, on a selected day, three
Federation years away, release the floods of death."
* * * * *
The voice paused briefly, went on. "It is a sobering reflection that
this plan--an attack by a comparatively minor race with one specialized
skill on the greatest human civilization in history--might very well
have been appallingly successful. But the Great Satogs failed, in part
because of the very perfection of their work.
"From the human beings on board Ohl Cantrall's captured survey ship the
Satog scientists selected Cantrall himself and two female technicians on
his staff as the models to be followed in developing Kalechi's
pseudohumanity. In the twelve hundred members of the group sent to the
Federation ninety years later, these three identity-patterns are
recognizable. They appear in varying degrees of combination, but an
occasional individual will show only one or the other of the three
patterns involved.
"Ohl Cantrall was regarded as a great man in his time, and his
identification pattern is on record. That was the detail which first
revealed the plot. When three duplicates of that particular
pattern--and a considerable number of approximate duplicates--turned up
simultaneously in identification banks at widely separated points in the
Federation, it aroused more than scientific curiosity. Our security
system has learned to look with suspicion on apparent miracles. The
unsuspecting 'Cantralls' were located and apprehended at once; the
threat to the Federation was disclosed; and an intensive though
unpublicized search for the scattered group of Kalechi agents began
immediately...."
The voice paused again.
The Satog image above the pit vanished. A clear light sprang up in the
big room. Simultaneously, Halder felt the nightmare immobility draining
from him and the sensation of dreamlike unreality fade from his mind. He
turned to the right, found Kilby's eyes already on him, saw the Rellis
couple sitting beyond her ... Rane, no longer disguised, looking like a
mirror image of Halder.
They were still fastened to their chairs. Halder's gaze shifted back
quickly to the center of the room. Where the pit had been, the flooring
was now level, carrying a massive, polished table. Behind the table sat
a heavily built, white-haired man with a strong face, harsh mouth, in
the formal black and gold robes of a Councilman of the Federation.
"I am Councilman Mavig." The voice was the one that had spoken in the
dark; it came now from the man at the table. "I am in charge of the
operation against the Kalechi agents, and it is my duty to inform them,
after their arrest and examination, of the disposition that must be made
of them."
He hesitated, twisting his mouth thoughtfully, almost as if unwilling to
continue. "You four have been thoroughly examined," he stated at last.
"Most of the work has been done while you were still unconscious. A
final check of your emotional reactions was being made throughout the
stress situation just ended, in which you listened to a replay of a
report on the Kalechi matter. That part is now concluded."
Mavig paused, scowled, cleared his throat. "I find," he went on, "that
some aspects of this affair still strain my credulity! More than half of
your group have been captured by now; the remainder are at large but
under observation. The danger is past. The activities of the Great
Satogs of Kalechi will receive our very close scrutiny for generations
to come. They shall be given no opportunity to repeat such a trick;
nor--after they have been made aware of the measures we are preparing
against them--will they feel the slightest inclination to try it.
"Now, as to yourselves. After we had tracked down the first dozen or so
of you, a startling pattern began to emerge. You were not following
Kalechi's careful instructions. In one way and another--in often very
ingenious ways--you were attempting primarily to establish contact with
one another. When captured and examined while unconscious by the
various interrogation instruments of our psychologists you told us your
reasons for doing this."
Councilman Mavig shook his head. "The interrogation machines are
supposed to be infallible," he remarked. "Possibly they are. But I am
not a psychologist, and for a long time I refused to accept the reports
they returned. But still ..."
He sighed. "Well, as to what is to happen with you. You will be sent to
join the previously arrested members of your group, and will remain with
them until the last of you is in our hands, has been examined, and ..."
Mavig paused again.
"You see, we can accuse you of no crime!" he said irritably. "As
individuals and as a group, your intention from the beginning has been
to prevent the crime against the Federation from being committed. The
Great Satogs simply did too good a job. You have been given the most
searching physical examinations possible. They show uniformly that your
genetic pattern is stable, and that in no detail can it be distinguished
from a wholly human one of high order.
"You appreciate, I imagine, where that leaves the Federation! When
imitation is carried to the point of identity ..." Federation Councilman
Mavig shook his head once more, concluded, "It is utterly absurd, in
direct contradiction to everything we have understood to date! You've
regarded yourselves as human beings, and believed that your place was
among us. And we can only agree."
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Analog Science Fact & Fiction_ July
1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
typographical errors have been corrected without note.