After a considerable wait the door was opened. By the light from inside
George Hanlon saw a fairly tall native, his hair and beard sleek and
burnished from much brushing, and trimmed with unusual care. He was
wearing a sort of slip-on gown of heavy cloth, probably a lounging
robe. Perhaps the man had already gone to bed--in which case he
would undoubtedly be quite provoked at their untimely call, Hanlon
thought. Indeed, the man's face showed surprise and petulance at this
interruption.
But Hanlon could see shrewdness and a crafty trickiness inherent in the
black eyes, that caused an inward tremor. "I'd sure better be on my
toes with this fellow," he thought.
Yandor scanned the two for a long moment, without a word, then beckoned
them inside. But as soon as the door was shut--and locked--he turned
angrily on Auldin.
"Well now, what's the big idea, you stupid idiot, of coming here, and
at night, and bringing someone with you. Are you trying to cross me,
Ran? You know that isn't healthy."
Ran Auldin cringed somewhat and made his voice apologetic. "It's
because it was night, nyer, and we wouldn't be noticed, that I came
now. Besides, I think this is important. I want you to meet Gor Anlo,
who's just come from Lura, looking for a chance, he says, to get into
our businesses."
Auldin slightly emphasized that last word, and Yandor's eyes snapped
wide. He swung about and faced Hanlon, studying him carefully. The
young man bore the scrutiny without flinching, a smile of greeting on
his face, but without a sign of boldness or brashness.
After a moment Yandor motioned them into an adjoining room, and himself
went to sit behind a large, ornate, wooden table-desk. "Sit," he waved
a delicate hand at the two chairs facing him in such a manner that the
desk-lamp's light was strong in the faces of the two, while leaving his
own more or less in the shadows. Hanlon could barely repress a grin at
this--it smacked so intimately of the old Terran police-questioning
technique.
During the short moments they had been in the hallway, however, Hanlon
had noticed a small roch standing there, apparently one that Yandor
must have partially tamed and kept as a pet. Quickly the S S man had
transferred a part of his mind into that of the beast. Now, while his
own body and nine-tenths of his mind were in that office room for the
interview with Ino Yandor, the other tenth, inside the brain of the
roch, was making the animal roam the house, seeking whatever secrets it
might find there.
The impresario looked at Hanlon searchingly. "Well now, so you think
you'd like to get into the entertainment business, eh?" he said with an
attempt at joviality.
"Yes, nyer, that ... and other things," Hanlon answered calmly. "Back
in Lura where I come from, sir, the people seem to be against the idea
of a young fellow getting ahead in the world. So," shrugging, "I came
here where I thought there was a better chance of doing myself some
good. Me, I'm out after a basketful of gold pentas ... and not too
particular how I get 'em," he added levelly, but in his eyes was an
unmistakable message the Estrellan could not help reading correctly.
"But there are entertainment procurers on the Eastern Continent,"
Yandor was sparring for time to evaluate this situation better. "If
you have a good way of pleasing the people, they would be glad to take
you in hand."
"Anlo isn't stupid, Yandor," Auldin interrupted ... and Hanlon was
glad he did at just that moment. For the roch had just peered through
the half-open doorway of a room upstairs, and found a man, probably a
servant, lying there on the bed, apparently reading from a scroll.
Hanlon did not especially like this spying on anyone, but he _had_
to learn all he could about what was going on here, no matter how he
gained the information.
So he reached out and studied the man's mind. The fellow was not
reading at the moment, he found, but was thinking of the "payback" he
owed someone named Ovil Esbor, who had obtained this position for him.
This Esbor was much like a Terran "ward boss"--a minor politician, but
connected with many shady dealings. Hanlon had not previously heard
that name, but made a mental note to investigate the man further. He
might be another lead.
The S S man withdrew his mind after a bit, and sent the roch searching
the other rooms. He noticed quite a few animal pets about the house,
but thought nothing special of it at the moment. Meanwhile he, in his
own person, began paying more attention to what Auldin and Yandor were
saying.
"... been in town several days, he says, looking over the situation.
How he found out I don't know, but he knows _all_ our businesses."
Yandor barely repressed a start of surprise, and his crafty black
eyes narrowed. "Why are you spying on ... no, _who_ are you spying on
us _for_?" he demanded in cold tones that again sent a shiver down
Hanlon's spine. For there was no mercy or lack of ruthlessness in that
tone. Nor in the man's attitude. Yet, at the same time, the young man
realized stunningly that Yandor, too, was as much afraid of _his_
superior as Auldin was of Yandor ... and Hanlon knew after a fleet
scanning of the gangster's mind that he now felt relief that Yandor
had not been investigating him through Hanlon.
But the young S S man had been reading the impresario's thoughts as
best he could, as well as hearing what he was saying. He felt that he
knew now how to handle this agent.
"As Auldin said, I'm not stupid, and I am on the make for my fortune.
I knew the only way was to check first and talk later. So I asked
seemingly innocuous questions here and there--and I'm wise enough never
to ask more than one from any one person. That way I found out a lot. I
do know something about the entertainment business and can hold up my
end of the performance. But I also know the really big money is in the
other things you control."
Yandor did gasp at that. His face grew black and he half-rose and
opened his mouth to say something--but Hanlon beat him to it.
"Incidentally," he lowered his voice but still kept it penetrant as
he leaned forward confidentially, "there's someone in the next room,
listening through that door there, to what we're saying."
At Hanlon's quiet words, Ino Yandor's eyes opened wide, while Ran
Auldin barely repressed an exclamation. Neither guessed, of course,
that the stranger was looking through the eyes of Yandor's pet roch
which, in the course of its investigation of the house for Hanlon's
benefit, had come to the open doorway of that adjoining room, and had
seen the man kneeling there, his ear pressed against the door-panels,
listening intently.
Now Yandor reached into a sort of pigeon-hole in his table-desk and
quietly took out a flamegun. Tensing himself, he suddenly swung his
chair about and leaped to the door. Flinging it open he found, indeed,
another man there, before that other could rise and run.
Grabbing the spy's collar with one surprisingly strong hand, Yandor
yanked him to his feet and into the light.
"_Ondo!_" he exclaimed. "Well now, what in the name of Zappa were you
doing?"
The small man cringed. "Pardon, nyer, I was ... was only trying to make
sure that no one was attempting to harm you ... and ... and standing by
to help you if they were."
"I think he's lying," Hanlon said, knowing from his quick probe into
the other's mind that he was. "I'll bet he's a spy for someone."
This last, he knew however, was not correct. Ondo was regularly
employed by Yandor as a houseman. But he was one of those intensely
curious and inquisitive people who always try to find out everything
that goes on in any house they happen to be working in.
"By Zappa, you'll never spy again," Yandor's face grew livid. "You know
better'n to cross me. You know it isn't healthy."
And before anyone could guess what he was about to do, the raging
impresario chopped down with the butt of his flamer, and Ondo fell
unconscious to the floor, blood welling from a gash in his forehead.
The furious entrepreneur was swinging the weapon into firing position
to kill the fallen man when Hanlon leaped forward and grasped his arm,
holding him back.
"Wait, nyer. Don't cinder him," he said almost in a tone of command.
"It wouldn't look well for a man of your public position, if word of it
ever leaked out."
"I say kill the snake," Ran Auldin spat. "There's no sense taking
chances with a man we know is a spy."
"No!" Hanlon was still quietly determined to save Ondo's life. He
spoke as impressively as he could. "Such a killing, with a body to
dispose of, would most certainly be traced back to you in time, nyer,
and you would lose much of the respect the public holds for you. Your
success in your ... other ... endeavors is largely due to the fact that
everyone knows you for such a high-principled, public-spirited citizen,
that no one suspects you of being anything else. Don't take chances on
spoiling that reputation."
Yandor was swayed by this impassioned appeal, it was plain to be seen.
His respect for Hanlon's quick good sense and sound judgment mounted,
and he looked at the young man with new interest.
"Anlo's right, Ran," he told his lieutenant. "We mustn't have a killing
on our hands that can be so easily traced to us."
He turned back to Hanlon, who was grinning inwardly at Yandor's
almost-panic that made him forget for the moment that there were no
real police detectives on this world who could so easily trace back a
killing, especially if only ordinary precautions were used to dispose
of the body.
"Well now, I thank you for saving me from the risk my temper might have
caused. What would you suggest we do with this ... this ...", he pushed
at the body with his foot.
"It's easy to see that Ondo is only a scared rat, and when he wakes up
he'll know he'd better keep away from you or he'll really be killed,"
Hanlon spoke carelessly. "Just have Auldin take him out and dump him on
the next street. Ondo will never bother you again, I'm positive."
Auldin seemed about to protest, but Yandor forestalled him. "That's
good advice. Take care of it, Auldin."
And after the gangster had left the house with his burden, Yandor
resumed his seat and motioned Hanlon to take the one he had formerly
occupied. But while they were doing this, the young S S man had sent
his mind outdoors, found a sleeping bird and taken over its mind. He
made it follow Auldin, so he would know where Ondo's body was taken. He
would try to save the fellow's life if he could--he had got him into
this predicament, it was up to him to get the chap safely out of it.
"Well now," Yandor was saying, "I'm beginning to believe you will
be a valuable man in our group. I'll think about it some more, and
see you sometime tomorrow and we'll talk further about it. But I'm
only promising to talk," he added hurriedly, "I'm not saying what my
decision will be."
"That's all I could ask for now, for I know I can prove my worth." He
rose and bowed courteously. "So I'll see you at your place of business
in the morning."
"You know where it is?" surprisedly.
"But of course."
As soon as he was out of the house, Hanlon went carefully to the
weed-infested vacant lot where Auldin had dumped Ondo's body. When
he saw the gangster returning, Hanlon quickly hid behind a great
flowertree.
Hanlon had brought the bird back to Yandor's house, and now made it
perch where it could look through a window. Through the bird's eyes
he saw the two inside, talking together for some minutes, Yandor
apparently very angry, Auldin on the defensive. Then the slender
mobster slunk from the house, and started back toward the downtown
section. Hanlon made the bird follow him, to make sure Auldin was
really going home, and was not circling about to try to find out what
Hanlon was doing or where he was going.
Then the SS man went to the vacant lot to find Ondo sitting up, holding
his aching head. Almost roughly he jerked him to his feet.
"Look, you phidi," Hanlon made his voice deadly menacing, "I don't
like people who go around trying to find out about me and my business.
Yandor merely insisted that I see to it that you left town immediately,
but I'm not that soft-hearted. I'm going to kill you, then I'll know
you've done your last snooping."
He reached toward his pocket, as though for a knife or flamegun.
The man was a small, terror-stricken rat. But he was not entirely
lacking in the universal will to live. Suddenly he half-stooped, then
jumped forward, his shoulder crashing into Hanlon's body. The young
Corpsman could have maintained his balance, but he let himself fall, as
though he had been knocked down by the blow.
Ondo took off like a scared dara, and in brief seconds was out of
sight. Hanlon waited several minutes, then went down the street toward
his rooming house, grinning to himself. He was happy that it could be
worked out this way.
He was sure this Ondo would leave Stearra without delay. Hanlon's hint
about that was enough, he was sure--especially since he knew Ondo
was convinced that he would be killed out of hand if he ever allowed
himself to be seen hereabouts again.
As he walked swiftly along, Hanlon released the bird from its mental
spell, for it was now apparent Auldin was really going downtown,
or home. But before releasing the bird, Hanlon guided it back to a
comfortable perch in a tree, and put it to sleep.
He could not help feeling gratitude--yet still with an awed sense
of wonder--about his ability to control animal minds. He remembered
so vividly that day on the great spaceliner _Hellene_, when he had
discovered this tremendous ability with the little puppy ... what
was its name...? oh, yes, Gypsy. And the still greater thrill when
he was experimenting later with the dogs on the kennel deck, and had
found that he could not only read their complete minds and control
their nerves and muscles to make them follow his bidding, but that
he could also _dissociate_ a portion of his mind, put it in their
brains and leave it there, connected with the balance of his own mind
merely by a slender thread of consciousness, yet able to think and act
independently.
But it certainly came in mighty handy in his work as a secret
serviceman, and he was thankful to whatever powers may be that had
given him this ability to do these amazing things. Now if he could
only learn how to read and control the whole mind and body of a human,
instead of being able to read only their surface thoughts!
But he was trying to learn to be content with what he had, and to use
it thankfully.
Yet he never ceased trying to learn more--to be able to do more along
these lines.
Finally back in his room Hanlon grinned again to himself as he began
undressing. He felt good. He had put it over again. He was sure he was
"in".
He sat down on a chair and removed the special shoes he was wearing.
These native Estrellans were very man-like in shape as well as
mentality, but there were enough structural differences so it had taken
the expert cosmetician many hours to fix him up to look like one of
them. These shoes, for instance, because Estrellans had unusually large
feet, were really shoes-within-shoes, to fit his feet correctly inside
and yet appear large enough on the outside not to attract attention.
* * * * *
_In the spaceship high above, intent thoughts had been coursing through
the mind of the being. Finally, certain commands were impressed upon
the mind of the Estrellan native the being controlled, that would set
in motion a new train of events._
_The native cringed as those thoughts came into his mind. They were not
the kind of things he would ever consider, of himself. They outraged
his every sense of right and justice. It made him actually, physically
sick even to contemplate them, and he wondered briefly how he had ever
come to get such ideas._
_Yet something, he could not guess what, forced him to do them, despite
his every struggling, heartsick effort not to obey the commands he did
not even know were commands._