"For that part, yes. But what about the rest of it?"
"Not much to tell. I was out alone on Ganymede, a few miles from the
ship. I thought I heard voices, sort of inside my head. I went forward
to explore, just like you did, and also like you, I almost didn't have
enough air to get back. Especially since I found your brother on the
way."
"And he was dead?" As he spoke, Steve looked at his brother, standing
right there in front of him, and wondered if anyone ever asked a more
impossible question.
"Yes. He was dead. I don't know how he died, but I placed my ear
against the chest of his vac-suit. The heart-beat is amplified through
it, you know. But there wasn't any. After that, I ran back to the
_Gordak_, and I had barely enough air to make it. I reported Charlie's
death, of course."
Charlie's death. Well, she sounded sincere. But there was Charlie,
standing two paces to her right and apparently listening to an account
of his own demise.
* * * * *
Charlie cleared his throat. Quite evidently, it wasn't Charlie at
all, but Steve could think of the man in no other way, for down to
the smallest physical detail, he was Charlie. "That will suffice," he
said. Again, it was Charlie's voice, but expressionless. "Enough of
bickering. You will all march with me toward those hills, and we have a
long journey before sunset."
The nine-foot anthrovacs took up their positions one on each side of
the column and one behind it, and no one disobeyed. Once Steve looked
back over his shoulder and saw the purple mists had almost completely
swallowed the _Frank Buck_.
Then the irony of the situation struck Steve and he smiled--almost.
He'd come to Ganymede after anthrovacs. But he'd left the satellite
under an anthrovac guard! Fine thing. A mighty hunter was he! Clear
across the universe to be bagged by his own game!
Obviously, Steve thought as they marched on, the blue day-star was
not Earth's sun. Somehow, in a matter of moments, they'd left the
Solar System entirely. He knew that theories had been advanced about
traveling through something called sub-space, something which could
make flight to the farthest stars almost instantaneous, since sub-space
existed outside the space-time continuum. And that wrenching from one
spatial plane to another might explain the tremendous pain they'd
undergone, too. But surely the _Frank Buck_ had never been equipped
for such flight. The whole concept of sub-space flight was strictly
theoretical and hadn't even reached the drawing-board stage.
Then how had it happened?
Kevin had some vague, half-formed ideas on the subject, and he let
Steve know about them. "It's a puzzler, boy. They took us a long way,
space alone knows how far. I don't pretend to know why; we can't figure
that out, not yet. But I know this: they could not have done that
without help. Someone had to bring the ship."
"The anthrovacs?" Steve suggested.
"Not the anthrovacs. For all their handling neutron guns and taking the
_Frank Buck_ over, they're just big apes to me. Maybe they were able to
take the ship off Ganymede, but no more than that. They had help, boy,
and from the inside."
"Who? Who do you mean?"
"I'm not sure I know. But look at it this way. The _Gordak_ wasn't
taken, the _Frank Buck_ was. Why? I'll tell you why, or at least
I'll tell you one possibility. There were scores of men on each
ship, but while the _Gordak_ had only one animal--the stone worm you
got on Mercury--the _Frank Buck_ had dozens. All right so far, boy?
Well, here's what I think: _whoever took the ship wanted both men and
animals._"
"I still don't understand."
"I'm not sure I do, either. Let's get back a little. The _Frank Buck_,
not the _Gordak_, was taken. Strange, isn't it, that just before that
happened LeClarc bolted our ranks and joined the enemy! Does that mean
LeClarc had to be on the _Frank Buck_ before anything happened? And
where'd he get to, anyway? I haven't seen him since the fight; I don't
think anyone has. Now, a man spends years idolizing a woman--I've been
around, and I think I told you LeClarc would have done anything for
Captain Moore. Suddenly, he gets sulky because he's out of favor with
her, and decides on a double-cross.
"It smells bad, boy. Sure, he was sulky, but the LeClarc I knew would
have come crawling to Captain Moore, anyway. This one didn't." Kevin
paused, ran a hand through his red hair. "Maybe it means he isn't the
same man. Maybe it means he's something like that thing which calls
itself your brother. That's not Charlie Stedman and you know it.
Trouble is, boy, you can't admit it to yourself."
"I won't argue about it," Steve replied. "But you're off the beam
there. Charlie doesn't remember me, but LeClarc's memory seemed fine."
"That's true, Steve. I can't explain it, except like this: whatever
happened to both of them, we don't know a thing about it. Maybe it
works in a different way on different people. Maybe because Charlie was
dead first, his personal memories were a loss, but LeClarc's weren't
because he might have been possessed alive."
"Possessed?"
"Yes, possessed. Oh, not by spirits, that's for sure. But possessed
nevertheless. I won't say the anthrovacs were possessed, for we don't
know enough about them to begin with. But look at those other animals
now, the ones that died. You won't deny that something took over their
brains?"
"Damned right I won't. But I still don't see how it all adds up."
"Nor do I," said Kevin. "Unfortunately, the brutes seemed to have
perished in transit from Ganymede to here, wherever here is. It
could be that the strain on their brain-tissue, with sentience and
intelligence taking over where before only sentience had resided, was
too great."
Kevin paused, then concluded: "whatever the reason, whatever the reason
for all of it--I think you'll find LeClarc knows all about it."
The blue sun had neared the horizon and the purple mists had become
cool and chilling at journey's end. It was then that they saw LeClarc.
* * * * *
The column of men had traversed the grassy plain, had climbed steadily
through the region of undulating hills. And suddenly, hidden until the
last moment by a rise in the terrain and spread out at the foot of
the higher mountains, they saw a city. Circular, walled, pleasantly
pastel-tinted despite the purple gloom, it lay before them, lights
which might or might not have been electricity winking on to dispel the
gathering darkness.
And there, at the city's gateway, stood LeClarc. LeClarc--and not
LeClarc. The man seemed as much LeClarc as the short stocky figure who
led the procession seemed Charlie Stedman. "Welcome to Uashalume," he
said, and Steve pulled up short at the sound of his voice. There was
something of the volatile Frenchman in it, but something else which was
alien.
"You will be billeted in temporary quarters for the night," LeClarc
continued. "You will of course have no need for such quarters after
tomorrow's bazaar."
"Of course, my foot!" Teejay cried petulantly. "See here, LeClarc,
we've been getting orders and directives without knowing what they mean
or why they were given or--"
"Must you be so impatient?" LeClarc's smile was almost devoid of mirth.
"You've come one hundred thousand light years, and surely you can wait
until morning."
"Light years!" This was Steve.