Page 24 of Man of Many Minds


  Chapter 24

  Grand Fleet had been rapidly assembling in the region near Simonides,just outside visual range, and away from the passenger and freightlanes. Mobilization was now complete.

  Admiral Newton and Senior Lieutenant Hanlon had been invited to ride theSirius, High Admiral Ferguson's flagship, and were glad to availthemselves of that privilege. They wore uniforms conforming to theirrank, but were disguised so that any chance acquaintances could notrecognize them, although there were no other Terrans aboard.

  Orders were given, and in strict formation the fleet blasted for Algon.First went the great screen of scouts, fanning out in all directionsfrom a common center, the outer fringes at higher speed until a greatbowl-like formation was secured. Then all the scouts standardized theirspeed. When they reached Algon they would completely englobe the planetjust beyond detection range.

  Next came the light cruisers, in the same formation, but when theyenglobed at Algon they would go inside the globe of scouts, nearer theplanet's surface. Then the heavy cruisers and battleships would descendin three mass formations, one directly over each of the three knownshipyards.

  "If any of the ships being built there are in shape to attack--if theyhave weapons installed and crews to use them," High Admiral Ferguson'sorders had been very explicit, "you'll have to burn them down. Otherwisewe want those ships untouched."

  George Hanlon was thrilled with the excitement of what was coming, yetknew a touch of fear. He had never been under fire, and knew only fromhearsay just what it meant to be in a ship that might be destroyed anyinstant without the least chance of anyone escaping. In space warfare,there usually just were no survivors. You won and lived--or you lost andwere blasted out of existence.

  But it wouldn't be long now--the scouts were already establishing theirglobe just outside of detection range. "No signs of being discoveredyet," they reported.

  Then the light cruisers began slipping through the screen of scouts totake their positions. Suddenly, a number of great beams of energystabbed up toward them from below, and the screens of the cruisersflared in brilliant confiscations of flame as those mighty rays struckthem.

  "Don't you cruisers and scouts take foolish chances!" High AdmiralFerguson's voice rasped into the mike. "If those beams are too hot, getback fast! Heavy cruisers and battleships, down!"

  Instantly Hanlon could feel the surge of acceleration as the great shiphe was riding plummeted planetward. In the plate he and his father werescanning, he could see the dots of blue light that identified thenearest scouts, and a moment later the greens of the light cruisers.

  Then those dots fled behind his range of vision as the heavies flashedpast them.

  The plate Hanlon was using was of limited vision, so he could not seethe battle as a whole, as High Admiral Ferguson could in hiswide-coverage screens. Only what was going on directly below and closeto either side was visible to Hanlon. Yet he could see several of thosegreat, stabbing beams reaching out toward the fleet.

  A change in color at one edge of his plate caught his eye, and he sawthe ship nearest on his right begin to glow as a heavy beam from belowworked on its screens, burrowing its way in and in, trying to blast theship out of existence.

  Great streams of radiance struck and ricocheted from its screens, whichwere swiftly mounting through the spectrum as more and more power wasthrown against them by the enemy below.

  The air in the Sirius began to grow hotter, and his father answered hisinquiring look, "They're attacking us, too, and that's heating us up.Hope our screens hold," he grinned grimly.

  "You said it." A shiver of fear gripped the young man, and he could feelhimself trembling. His father threw a comforting arm across hisshoulders. "First battles are always toughest," he said evenly, andHanlon calmed instantly.

  He turned his attention to the screen again. That neighboring ship wasstruggling desperately to escape, knowing she could not stand much more.

  "What's the matter with that pilot?" Hanlon yelled. "Why don't he flipher over and beat it?"

  "Seems to be held by something," his father's anxious voice was tense."Have those others got some sort of tractor beam?"

  "Tractors?" Hanlon looked up in surprise. "I've read about them, butthought they were impossible."

  "Impossible to us because we haven't got 'em yet," Newton said absently."They are theoretically possible."

  Every beam from every Corps ship was piercing downward. Suddenly otherships were appearing, and the young man realized that the light cruiserswere coming down to add their might to that of the battleships andheavies.

  Four of the light cruisers maneuvered swiftly below the battleship nextto the Sirius, one below the other, and in the instant of theiralignment the big ship broke free, while the others flashed away fromthat restricting, holding tractor, or whatever it was.

  It seemed like hours that Hanlon's eyes strained, trying to see what wasgoing on. They had slowed, his spaceman's sense told him, and now hecould see they were within the atmosphere, not too high above theground. Now he could make out huge, squat mechanisms from which thosedeadly rays were pouring.

  The Guddus, with their lack of knowledge of things mechanical, had notreported these to Hanlon, else he could have warned Admiral Fergusonabout them, and the attack might possibly have been handled differently.

  Suddenly a speaker blared, "Sector Two is in our hands. No total losses.A number of the enemy scouts got away--they're far faster than anythingwe've got."

  A yell rose from every throat there in the control room.

  Sector Two, Hanlon knew, was the spaceyard where the scouts and lightcruisers were being built. "They probably hadn't armed that field asmuch as these others," he said to his father.

  Newton nodded, then the two walked over to the High Admiral's stationand glanced into his larger bank of plates.

  Now Hanlon could see clearly, and at first glance knew that none of thenew enemy ships below them were fighting--only those ground batterieswhich encircled the shipyard. He could see that most of these were nowout of action, destroyed by the Federation ships. The others were underterrific bombardment, not only from the ships' beams, but from theirbombs and guided missiles as well.

  From the looks of the destroyed batteries, Hanlon guessed the explosivebombs had been followed by thermite to complete their destruction.

  "We lost many?" Newton asked.

  "No totals," Ferguson's voice was gleeful, "except one light cruiser. Wemust have caught them napping. If they can't put up any more forces,it'll all be over in a couple of minutes."

  _A couple of minutes!_ Hanlon's thought was a gasp. He glanced at hischronom, and was amazed. He had been sure this battle had lasted forhours--but it was less than ten minutes. It didn't seem possible ... buthe quickly remembered what he had learned in school, and knowingsomething of those terrific powers unleashed there, the wonder was nowthat it had lasted that long.

  A speaker near them blared. "Admiral Houghton reporting. Sector Threetaken. Two of our cruisers blasted, and one battleship crippled. Oneenemy battleship was fighting us, and had to be destroyed. They'vereally got something, sir, that we'll want to study and get forourselves."

  Another yell of triumph came from the Corpsmen, and Hanlon felt a thrillof pride in the Service of which he was a part.

  Then a moment later Admiral Ferguson called into his mike, "Cease fire,but stand by on careful watch. _Orion_ and _Athenia_, send yourspecialists down in gigs. I'll meet you there."

  The landing successfully completed without further activity from theenemy, Ferguson, a number of designated officer-specialists, Newton andHanlon, some technicians, and a company of marines in full armor,disembarked and marched to the safest part of the ruined, still-burningspaceyard.

  Careful examination of the ships there was ordered. Theofficer-technies, who swarmed aboard the enemy ships, soon beganreporting one after another, that none of these partially-built vesselsseemed damaged beyond repair.

  "Thank heavens they built what few
ground-batteries they had welloutside the field," Ferguson said to Newton and Hanlon. "We'll get crewsin here at once, and complete these ships."

  George Hanlon, after his first quick looks about at the damage done, hadbeen sending his mind out and out, trying to get into telepathiccommunication with any of the natives, but had not had any success. Hadthey all been killed? Those here at the shipyard, probably yes, he hadto admit sadly. The terrific heat would have burned them. But what aboutthe others? Why couldn't he contact them?

  "Excuse me, sir," he addressed the High Admiral. "What about the minesand factories?"

  "All under control without any trouble, outside of a few individualcasualties. Light cruisers and scouts took care of those while the mainbattle was on."

  "I'd like a small cruiser to take me to the mine where I worked," hesaid, and one was ordered to come down and place itself on specialassignment at his disposal.

  "Want to come with me, Dad?" he asked.

  The two admirals exchanged glances, and Ferguson nodded. "Go ahead ifyou want to. We won't need you here for now."

  In the airlock of the cruiser Hanlon removed the disguising makeup, andit was as his Algonian-known self, dressed in civvies he had brought forthat purpose, that he descended at the familiar little spaceport.

  His father was intensely interested in that fantastic, seemingly-alivejungle through which they walked to the mine clearing. "I've never seenanything like this," he commented in amazement. "Are these trees andbushes conscious, too?"

  "Very slightly," his son told him. "The Guddus call them their 'littlecousins,' and I believe can communicate to some extent, but I nevercould."

  As they broke from the jungle's fringe, they saw a double-squad ofmarines on guard. The two were allowed through the lines, and enteredthe office. Behind his desk, his face dead white from suspense, satPeter Philander, and about the room sprawled the engineers, guards andother workers.

  "Hi, Mr. Philander!" Hanlon called cheerfully, and at sound of thatremembered voice, the superintendent's head, as well as those of all theothers, snapped up.

  "You!" There was incredulity in the super's voice and manner.

  "Yep, it's me," Hanlon grinned. "I'm glad nothing happened to any ofyou."

  "_Hmmpff!_" Philander snorted defeatedly. "What's the difference betweenbeing killed cleanly in a fight, as against a lifetime in prison, or afiring squad?"

  "You'll get neither one," Hanlon said quietly, remembering the power he,as a Secret Service operative, carried. "There'll be a trial, of course,but I know that you, at least, are all okay."

  "He's boss, ain't he?" one of the guards growled truculently. "Whyshould he get off free iffen th' rest of us don't?"

  "None of you will be harmed because of your part in the plot HisHighness Gorth Bohr was scheming. That is broken, and we know you wereall just his tools. All any of you will be tried for are your actions asregards the Greenies. If brutality against them is proven, you'll beproperly punished for that alone."

  He turned to Philander. "Are the natives all right?"

  The man looked up hopelessly, unable to believe Hanlon's statement abouthimself. "How do I know?" his voice was dispirited. "When the Corpscaptured us, they dragged us from wherever we were working, and as faras I know left the Greenies untended. They've probably all run back tothe woods."

  Hanlon looked at his father. "I'm going out to look. I have afeeling ..." and he walked out without saying more. Nor was he greatlysurprised to see the natives all sitting or standing quietly in theircompounds, some feeding from the fertilizer Hanlon was glad to see wasstill being fed them, others merely resting, waiting.

  The gates, of course, were unlocked and wide open, so Hanlon walkedquickly back to the hut his crew occupied and stepped inside thedoorway. While waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dimness he saw afigure launching itself at him. But as he quickly stepped back outside,in case it was an attack, he saw that it was Geck.

  "You came back, you came back!" the native was babbling telepathicallyin an excess of joy. "When the new humans came and took the old humansprisoners, me said it was your work. Me knew you would come. Me tellother Guddu to wait for you here."

  "What about those near the places where the ships were being built?"Hanlon's mind asked anxiously. "I tried to get into contact with thembut couldn't."

  "Many of they were killed, yet most ran to forests when great fires thatdestroy were started," was the sad response.

  Hanlon was silent a moment, then telepathed again. "There is no need foryou all to stay here any longer. Tell all your people to go back totheir forests, for they are all free."

  Geck turned to the other natives who were crowding close, and Hanloncould see him talking swiftly with that peculiar-looking littletriangular-shaped mouth. Soon his mind was suffused with a tremendouswave of joy and ecstasy, and they began dashing out. Hanlon could seethem talking to the natives in all the huts, and in moments all thenatives except Geck were streaming happily toward the nearby forests.

  Hanlon turned to Geck. "I'd like to have you stay with me or where I canreach you for a while. As soon as we can get straightened around, we'llmake arrangements to do anything we can for you."

  "Me stay with friend An-yon," Geck said simply, and Hanlon was glad andproud of that friendship with this strange alien.

  They walked back to the mine office, and there Hanlon told his fatherabout what he had done with the natives.

  Admiral Newton was intensely interested, and frankly studied thestrange, weird Geck. It was his first sight of these "vegetable"creatures. "Animated trees," Hanlon had first called them, although nowthey were so familiar to him, and he knew them so well that he thoughtof them, naturally and without question, as "people."

  The young Secret Serviceman explained to the elder about thefrequency-transformer he had built--but dismantled before leaving Algon.He suggested that specialists be sent here to see what could be doneabout teaching the natives any of the things they might want to know.

  "But don't let them try to force the Guddus into a mechanicalcivilization," he pleaded. "Let 'em grow in their own way, and make whatprogress they can in whatever way comes natural to them."

  "Of course," his father agreed quickly. "That's the way we always workwith such primitives. We tell them and show them what we have, but onlygive them what they specifically ask for, whether we think it is whatthey 'ought to have' or not. Don't worry, your friends will be in goodhands. But," there was a peculiar light in his eyes, "I sure would liketo watch an autopsy on one of them. A vegetable brain ..."

  "Yes, it would be interesting," Hanlon admitted, "but I'm glad you treatthem that way." He turned back to Geck and explained, telepathically, asbest he could.

  "You stay here with we," the Guddu asked hopefully.

  "I'm sorry, but I have other work to do," and then, as he saw how theother lost heart. Hanlon hastened to add, "I have to go help otherenslaved peoples on other worlds."

  "Then us not try to keep you. But us hope you come to see we many time."

  "I'll do that, Geck my friend, every chance I get."