Part 6

Joel scrambled to his feet, stood there weaving. His hands were manacled. His head felt as if it must burst.

Then he drew in his breath sharply.

Just behind him stood a yellow tree and beneath it a deal table with the shaggy figure of Walt Eriss bending over it!

The ex-surgeon was talking over a portable televisor. A dozen men surrounded the giant. They were wearing scarlet armbands.

Joel could hear Eriss saying, "Yes, we're pushing on the palace now. No. I'm using runners." He clicked off the set, looked up, staring coldly at Joel.

"Where are the Ganelons?" he demanded in a harsh voice.

Joel's eyes widened. There wasn't a Ganelon in sight. Then he caught their alien unhuman scent. They were all around, invisible to the mind's eye! What did it mean?

A thrill of alarm rippled up his spine. He shrugged, said, "How would I know?"

"You're one of their spies," stated Eriss flatly. "I want to know what they're up to!"

"But I thought they were leading the attack on Eden."

"The Ganelons?" Eriss' voice was sarcastic. "They're a pack of old women. I directed the attack. I'm in charge."

"But I saw them...."

Eriss leaned forward, said savagely, "They were my eyes and ears. They telepathed my orders! But they tried to stop the killing. When I refused to listen to them they deserted." He began to beat the table with his fist. "I want to know what they're up to!"

All the time Joel was conscious of the Ganelons' scent. He could feel their eyes on him. He said, "Then you've broken with them?"

"What are they trying to do?" Eriss repeated, purple faced.

Joel's green eyes narrowed. The ex-surgeon was afraid of the Ganelons, he realized suddenly. Eriss was concentrating his attack on Eden, his rear unprotected. For all he knew a Ganelon army might be massing silently in the jungle. Millions upon millions of the natives....

Joel had to reach the Thinkers! He could sense the invisible natives all about him. He said in desperate ringing tones,

"I'm Joel Hakkyt. I've a message for the Thinkers. Please relay this to the Thinkers. I'm Joel Hakkyt. I've a message...."

Eriss looked startled, roared, "What are you talking about?"

Sweat burst from Joel's face. He expected to be rayed down any moment. He said, "Tamis was my contact. I have information--vital information." He could scent the Ganelons closing in. Eriss was staring at him with flaming yellow-gray eyes.

"What sort of information?" he demanded.

Joel said, "Mutants are in control of all government posts. True mutants. They are fighting for the same things that the Ganelons are. Freedom!

"You've organized the worst elements among us, the unbalanced, the criminally insane. You've helped them to devise weapons, given them unlimited power. They'll turn on you in the end, ferret you out...."

A frown was gathering on Walt Eriss' forehead. He glanced a question at his lieutenants. They shrugged.

Joel saw that they were about to catch on. He said quickly, "Governor Cameron and a party of mutants have barricaded themselves in the palace. They want to arbitrate. Relay message. This is Joel Hakkyt. Contact Tamis. She will verify...."

"By George!" roared Eriss. "He's communicating with the Ganelons!"

He leaped to his feet, sending the deal table over with a crash, struck Joel in the mouth. "Take him off and ray him!"

The blow knocked Joel sprawling. He scrambled to his feet, his head ringing. Two men seized him by the arms. But Eriss wheeled back.

"Wait," said the ex-surgeon. He gave Joel a shrewd look. "Any more information?"

Joel stared at him with hot furious eyes. He didn't say anything.

Eriss laughed harshly. "So that was all. You've finished your spiel, eh? You're harmless." He turned to the men who were holding Joel's arms. "I've changed my mind. Take him into the jungle and stake him out for the nigel trees. There's a herd of 'em in the neighborhood."

And he burst into laughter.

* * * * *

The heat in that forest of fetid grotesqueries was like the atmosphere of an orchid house. Joel was bathed in sweat as the serfs manacled him to a tree trunk.

He could tell by their actions that they were frightened. They kept their voices down, glanced nervously over their shoulders. The minute they finished, they crashed away through the thick underbrush toward the distant sounds of Walt Eriss' headquarters.

Joel's nerves were taut as fiddle strings. He didn't know whether his message had gotten through to the Thinkers. He could feel small snaky tendrils pluck at his tunic, brush against his bare legs.

There was a rustling noise behind him.

He lunged in panic. The manacles cut into his wrists, bloodied them. He was like a goat staked out to bait a tiger. A sinuous vine wrapped itself about his waist, tightened.

It was like the coil of a boa constrictor, thick as his thigh, tough as cable. It wrenched him against his manacles until he thought his arms were going to be torn out at the sockets.

He squirmed helplessly. Then he caught sight of the plant that had snared him--the thick flesh-colored trunk, the crown of writhing tentacles. It exuded the odor of carbolic add. The pool of digestive acid glinted deep within its maw.

Nigel tree! He was caught by a carnivorous nigel tree!

Then, unexpectedly Joel felt the tentacles relax. He leaned gasping, choking against the trunk of the tree to which he was manacled. He was dazed from shock.

A voice said, "You're safe now, my son."

Joel shuddered, looked over his shoulder. A naked white-haired Ganelon was standing scarcely a yard off. He stooped and fumbled with Joel's manacles. They fell to the ground with a clank.

Joel's knees began to buckle. He threw his arms about the trunk.

"We came as quickly as we could," the Ganelon said in a kindly voice.

Joel asked, "You--you relayed my message to the Thinkers?"

"We are the Thinkers, my son. We were there." As he spoke, more of the creatures materialized. It was completely unnerving as if they were popping from another dimension.

They were a handsome, sprightly race. There wasn't a stick of clothing or an ornament in the crowd. Then Joel saw a familiar figure emerge from the undergrowth.

"Thorp!" he cried. "Nick Thorp!"

The battered amiable ex-spaceman came forward, hand outstretched. "Not so loud, lad. We're too close to Eriss' headquarters."

The uproar from the rebels' camp was muted by the dense jungle, but it was still audible. Joel asked, "Have you seen Tamis?"

"Look around, lad!"

Joel heard a giggle, spun about. Tamis was standing at his elbow, laughing at him. Then she quit laughing. Her elfin features sobered. "Joel," she said, "we didn't know about the mutants."

"Why did the Ganelons withdraw from the attack?" he asked in a puzzled voice.

"It was horrible," she said. "We--we unleashed a force we couldn't control. It's beyond description, the scenes of rapine and carnage that are being enacted in Eden. The police have gone over to the rebels...."

"The palace?" Joel interrupted harshly. "What has happened to the palace?"

"The palace has fallen."

Joel felt the blood drain from his face. He said, "Then what is Walt Eriss doing in the jungle?"

"He doesn't know, yet. His men are mopping up. Many of the free planters have barricaded themselves in their houses."

Joel clenched his fists. He stared at the circle of kindly troubled faces.

"The Unfit must be wiped out!" His voice trembled with suppressed fury. "Don't you know what it will mean to have homicidal maniacs, the mentally unbalanced, in power?"

The Ganelons gave him a pitying look. "My son," interposed the old man who'd freed him, "as you say, they should be exterminated. They are like the nigel trees--senseless brutes with an instinct to kill."

"Then why don't you stop them?"

"We can't."

"You can't!" said Joel. The words were like a blow to his solar plexus. "You can't...."

"We are not a numerous people," the old Ganelon explained softly. "Moreover we have a repugnance towards killing that amounts to a psychological block...."

"But you started the attack!"

"No. It was someone else who ordered the attack, someone else who planned the strategy. We went along to try to stop the bloodshed. But it was useless. We had less control over them than we have over the nigel trees."

Joel's eyes widened. He stared at the old Ganelon's saddened mien. There could be no doubt but that he was telling the truth.

"Who?" Joel breathed.

The naked Ganelon shook his head. "We don't know. He's like a puppeteer hiding behind the scene. And Walt Eriss is only one of his puppets!"

XI

The utter alienness of the jungle suddenly impressed itself on Joel. The creeping crawling plants. The shouts from Eriss' headquarters, the rumble of vehicles sounded startlingly close.

Through the interstices in the foliage he caught a glimpse of something moving. His eyes widened. Then he saw that it was the herd of nigel trees and he shuddered.

He frowned. "Nigel trees!"

"Yes," Tamis nodded. "But they won't bother us."

"You can control them!" Joel said thoughtfully. "Could you direct them to attack?"

"Attack?" The elder Ganelon looked puzzled. "I don't know. We could arouse their appetite, lead them to the rebels." He narrowed his pupilless eyes. "Attack...."

Joel was like a drowning man clutching at a straw. "The ray couldn't harm the plants. It destroys red blood corpuscles. They'd be invincible!"

Thorp suddenly smacked a fist into his palm, "By Neptune!" he said, "it's worth a try. How do you control the brutes? Telepathy?"

Tamis nodded. "They're mindless; that is, they react to external stimuli. We create the illusion that generates the desired response. It is as easy to influence a herd as a single tree."

"A conditioned reflex," said another.

The old man said, "But to attack a city with plants--even cannibal plants...." He shook his head.

"But there would be thousands of them." Joel's voice trembled in excitement. "Each Ganelon could control a herd. They'd pour down the streets, create a panic...." He paused. "If you're doubtful, why not tackle Walt Eriss' headquarters first?"

The old Ganelon looked startled.

Joel said, "There's a herd of the trees here now. Try it. Drive them into the rebels' camp!"

"But there are only fifty or so trees in the herd. We'd have to call others...."

"Call them! Call them now."

The old Ganelon bowed his head. Moments slid by. With a sense of terror Joel was conscious of their passing. What had become of Priscilla? Who was the mysterious man behind the uprising of the Unfit? Why didn't the Thinkers act?

"Do something!" Joel burst out savagely. "Don't just stand there! Do something!"

The elder Ganelon smiled. "Patience, my son. The trees are being called."

Alpha Centauri B hung just above the treetops, casting long orange rays across the rebels' camp. Joel and Thorp and Tamis lay side by side in the shrubbery at the edge of the clearing.

The endless procession of cars still rolled into Eden down the muddied highway. Another line of cars returned, bringing exhausted men, wounded men, loot and prisoners.

"Where are the trees?" Joel asked.

Tamis said, "Shhh."

Joel heard a crackling of branches behind him, stiffened. Then he caught sight of a moving trunk. More and more of them appeared, blending with the jungle until they were scarcely discernable.

They smelled like carbolic acid! It was the weirdest march he'd ever witnessed, the massed shuddering movement of herd after herd of the carnivorous nigel trees. The balls of thread-like roots at their bases squirmed like Medusa's heads, thrusting the ungainly plants forward.

A wave of trees broke suddenly from the opposite wall of the jungle. For a moment they went unnoticed. Then someone shouted.

More trees squirmed into the clearing, green fronds asway. It looked as if the jungle itself were creeping back over the cleared ground.

Pandemonium broke loose. The two lines of cars ground to a halt. Pale green rays sprang at the nigel trees, bathed them futilely. The trees inexorably tightened the circle.

A man was snatched up by a tentacle. He kicked, screamed. More men were caught by the ravenous plants. The stench of carbolic acid stung Joel's nostrils.

The rebels broke and ran. But there was no place to run to. They saw only a second wavering wall of greenery, of thrashing tentacles!

Joel was white, sick at his stomach. He caught sight of Walt Eriss. The shaggy giant was sprinting for a half-track. He almost made it. Then a tentacle girdled his ankle.

The ex-surgeon was lifted head downward into the air, squirming, shrieking. Then he vanished into the gaping maw of the plant.

All at once, one of the Ganelons stepped out from the midst of the trees.

"Surrender!" he yelled. "Surrender, and we'll call off the plants."

* * * * *

He had to repeat his offer a dozen times before he could catch the attention of the frantic serfs. Then one of the rebels threw his projector to the ground, raised his hands. Another and another followed suit. It was over.

Joel felt dazed.

Tamis touched his shoulder. "The Thinkers are expressing their thanks."

Thorp said, "You're on the air. You're a celebrity," and grinned.

But Joel didn't smile. "What about Eden?" he asked.

Tamis said, "The Thinkers are calling the neighboring tribes. There will be a big round-up of nigel trees...."

Joel let his breath escape with relief. "Tamis," he said, "can the Thinkers give me a guide to the palace? I've got to get back."

"Is it Priscilla Cameron, Joel?"

He looked at the Ganelon girl. She had tight hold of Nick Thorp's hand.

"Yes," Joel, replied. "Lord knows what might have happened to her."

"We'll guide you."

"We're both with you," Thorp added.

Joel felt suddenly grateful to the strangely assorted pair. He'd had to come all the way to Asgard to rediscover the meaning of friendship. Like love, he thought.

Alpha Centauri B had set and Alpha Centauri A had not yet risen when they arrived at the outskirts of Eden. The sky over the city was lurid from the reflection of burning buildings. Whole blocks must be afire.

"There's Proxima Centauri," Tamis said, pointing to a drop of blood gleaming in the night sky. "The little yellowish star above it is Sol."

Joel stared at it with a lump in his throat. It looked very cold and far away. He hunched his shoulders, started down the street towards the twinkling lights of Palace Hill.

The city itself was dark, lit only by ruddy flames. Gangs of looters prowled the streets carrying torches. They paid no attention to Joel and Thorp and the elfin Ganelon girl.

At the entrance to the tunnel beneath the palace, Joel halted. "Tamis, it isn't safe for you to come any farther. You either, Nick."

But Tamis said, "I'll step out of sight," and did so. Thorp growled, "You'll need me. Maybe Priscilla's alive."

Joel said, "Maybe," and touched the switch. A section of the wall slid aside revealing the black tunnel mouth.

Thorp whistled softly.

"The walls of the palace are hollow," Joel explained. He closed the door behind them.

At the first floor, he stopped the lift, crept out to one of the mirrors. An immense hall met his eyes. It overflowed with guards armed with ray projectors. The mutter of their voices was a low rumble in Joel's ears.

"But can't they see us?" Thorp hissed.

"No." Joel explained the mirrors.

"Priscilla's not there," Thorp said. "How are you going to find her?"

"I'll find her," said Joel grimly and for the next hour he prowled through the walls of the first floor like some ancestral ghost. Serfs and police were everywhere. In some of the rooms indescribable orgies were taking place.

"It'll take a year to search this maze," Thorp growled.

Joel stopped, wiped the sweat out of his eyes. Glancing through the customary mirror, he saw a narrow passage down which a man was walking.

"Hold it!" he said. He waited until the serf was passing the mirror, touched the switch. The panel slid aside. The serf jerked his head around. Joel hit him in the temple with his clubbed fist.

The rebel smashed into the wall across the corridor. Before he could fall, Joel grabbed him by the collar, hauled him into the passage. The panel clicked shut.

"Jupiter!" Thorp breathed. "Did you kill him?"

"No. He's just stunned." Joel slapped the man's face, shook him.

The rebel opened his eyes, stared at Joel groggily. Then he let out a yell, tried to heave himself to his feet.

Joel shoved him back to the floor. "Yell your head off. Nobody can hear you."

The man stopped yelling. "What's the idea?" he demanded.

"Who's in charge here?"

"The Emperor."

"The Emperor?" Joel felt a tingle of excitement. "Who's he?"

"He's the Emperor. That's all I know. I never saw him before today."

Joel shook his fist under the fellow's nose.

"So help me!" the man said in a scared voice, "that's all I know!"

"Where is this Emperor?"

"He's in his rooms on the top floor."

"What have they done with the governor and his daughter, the chief of police?"

"Don't hit me. I don't know. It's the gospel truth."

Joel said savagely, "Tie him up."

Thorp tore up the serf's tunic, bound his wrists and ankles, tied them together so that he arched backward like a bow.

"Don't forget me," the serf pleaded. "I'll rot here in the walls."

But Joel was gone.

* * * * *

Subdued indirect lighting illuminated the top floor. Joel paused behind a mirror with Thorp at his elbow. He glanced into Governor Cameron's suite. The rooms were gutted, empty.

He said, "There's only one other apartment up here. That's Priscilla's. He must be there."

"Emperor!" Disgust was heavy in Thorp's voice. "What does he think this is, the pre-Atomic age?"

Joel didn't reply. He was conscious of Tamis' alien scent as he threaded his way between the walls. He could see guards lounging before Priscilla's door.

"That's where he is!" he said savagely. He was trembling, he realized. He drew his paralyzer.

But when he reached the salon, it was empty. He ran through the passage to Priscilla's bedroom, halted, icy fingers squeezing his heart.

Through the one-way mirrors, he could see Priscilla sitting in a relaxer. There was a frightened, defiant expression on her face. And she was staring up at Fredrik Roos.

The lean saturnine chief of the Asgardian police was bending over the green haired girl, saying furiously, "After what I've done, do you think I'd hesitate to kill you?"

Priscilla shivered.

Behind Joel, Thorp said, "The Emperor, Fredrik I of Asgard. He's going to have the shortest reign in history!"

"Shut up!" said Joel. "He's talking."

Roos said, "I don't need the mutants; they need me! Look what happened to Eden. Nelsville and Nuvenice will fall the same way. But you can save thousands of lives if you persuade them to cooperate."

Joel said, "I'm going to take him," and touched the switch.

The panel made a faint squeak as it slid back. Joel leveled the paralyzer, touched the stud.

Roos jerked around, his eyes widening. Then he leaped aside spasmodically. The yellow flame splashed harmlessly against the opposite wall.

Before Joel could catch the police chief in his sights again, the room was plunged into darkness. Priscilla screamed.

"Stay back, Thorp!" Joel yelled. "He can see in the dark!"

Something snatched his paralyzer. He struck out blindly, felt his fist crunch against flesh and bone. The paralyzer clattered on the floor.

Joel's eyes were adjusting. He could make out a dim gray silhouette dancing in front of him. He struck at it. The shadow bobbed. Joel's fist whistled through air.

He struck again and missed. Then a barrage of fists exploded in his face. He was driven back against the wall.

He could see the elusive Roos more clearly, a weaving, bobbing silhouette. He swung and missed, swung and missed.

Roos hit him in the mouth, in the solar plexus.

Joel sagged gasping to his knees. Roos kicked him viciously in the kidneys. It was like the searing thrust of a knife.

He thought, I'm being licked. Once he'd seen a Histrofilm of a prizefight. That was why he couldn't hit the police chief. Roos was a skilled boxer.

He pulled himself groggily to his feet, lunged for him. He could see him quite clearly now but in varying shades of gray like a black and white photograph.

Roos danced aside, clipped him behind the ear. He was grinning. "Ox!" he said.

Joel felt like a bear attacked by a slashing pack of wolves. He shook his head, shuffled after Roos cautiously. He took three hard punches in the face without faltering, kept closing in.

Roos backed up. Joel crowded him in the corner, letting the police chief hit him with everything he had.

At the last moment Roos guessed Joel's purpose. He tried to duck and slide clear.

Joel grabbed him by the collar and belt. With a grunt, he heaved him over his head.

The police chief kicked, squirmed frantically. The muscles in Joel's shoulders cracked. But he held him aloft, began to walk deliberately toward the crystal doors leading to the terrace.

Roos cursed, wrenched, flailing wildly with arms and legs. Joel kicked the doors aside.

Alpha Centauri A was flooding the terrace with a clear dawn light.

Roos began to beg for his life.

Joel's face was a grimace of triumph. He reached the parapet, heaved the pseudo-Emperor over the edge.

A single piercing scream came up to him.

* * * * *

Joel didn't look down. He gripped the railing, staring out over the gutted city. He heard a step behind him, felt Priscilla cover his hand with hers.

"I knew you'd come. But Joel, we mustn't waste time!" Her voice was tremulous. "Please hurry before the alarm is given!"

"No," he said. "We'll wait here."

"Joel! Roos' death won't stop the revolt. There'll be a dozen men to take his place. Maybe the Ganelons will take us in!"

"Look," he said simply, and pointed out over the parapet.

In perplexity the girl glanced down on the city spread out below. Then she gave a little scream, clapped her hand over her mouth.

Slowly, inexorably, the encircling jungle was enveloping the city! Already the outlying districts were submerged beneath a wave of thrashing greenery.

Joel saw a band of ant-like men trying to stem the advance of the nigel trees with ray projectors. Then they broke and ran.

Someone began to pound on the door to Priscilla's suite and shout for the Emperor. Then he went away.

Thorp called, "What is it, Joel?"

"The plants! They're attacking!"

With a shout, the ex-spaceman rushed to the parapet, dragging Tamis with him.

The Ganelon girl's ivory cheeks were flushed and she held tight to Thorp's hand as she leaned over the parapet.

Priscilla's green eyes widened. "The Ganelons! They've set the nigel trees onto the rebels."

Joel nodded.

"Oh, Joel! Then you did get through to the Thinkers!" She threw her arms around his neck. Suddenly she drew back. "But are we safe here?"

Tamis said, "My people are directing the trees. We're safe. So are your father and the other captives."

Priscilla let herself go limp in Joel's arms, nestled her head on his shoulder.

Beneath them the sea of vegetation flooded down the streets, swarmed over the buildings.

"The new Eden," said Joel. He glanced down into Priscilla's upturned face. What he saw there set his pulse racing. He had come a long way, he realized, from the dissatisfied specialist in animal husbandry.

He had come a long way, but it was only the beginning.