XV
Brion hurled himself backward and sprawled flat in the dust andfilth of the road. No poison dart sought him out; the empty silencestill reigned. Telt's murderers had come and gone. Moving quickly,using the bulk of the car as a shield, he opened the door andslipped inside.
They had done a thorough job of destruction. All of the controls hadbeen battered into uselessness, the floor was a junk heap of crushedequipment, intertwined with loops of recording tape bulging likemechanical intestines. A gutted machine, destroyed like its driver.
It was easy enough to reconstruct what had happened. The car hadbeen seen when they entered the city--probably by some of the magterwho had destroyed the Foundation building. They had not seen whereit had gone, or Brion would surely be dead by now. But they musthave spotted it when Telt tried to leave the city--and stopped it inthe most effective way possible, a dart through the open window intothe unsuspecting driver's neck.
Telt dead! The brutal impact of the man's death had driven allthought of its consequences from Brion's mind. Now he began torealize. Telt had never sent word of his discovery of theradioactive trace to the Nyjord army. He had been afraid to usethe radio, and had wanted to tell Hys in person, and to show himthe tape. Only now the tape was torn and mixed with all the others,the brain that could have analyzed it dead.
Brion looked at the dangling entrails of the radio and spun for thedoor. Running swiftly and erratically, he fled from the sand car.His own survival and the possible survival of Dis depended on hisnot being seen near it. He must contact Hys and pass on theinformation. Until he did that, he was the only offworlder on Diswho knew which magter tower might contain the world-destroyingbombs.
Once out of sight of the sand car he went more slowly, wiping thesweat from his streaming face. He hadn't been seen leaving the car,and he wasn't being followed. The streets here weren't familiar, buthe checked his direction by the sun and walked at a steady fast pacetowards the destroyed building. More of the native Disans were inthe streets now. They all noticed him, some even stopped and scowledfiercely at him. With his emphatic awareness he felt their anger andhatred. A knot of men radiated death, and he put his hand on his gunas he passed them. Two of them had their blowguns ready, but didn'tuse them. By the time he had turned the next corner he was soakedwith nervous perspiration.
Ahead was the rubble of the destroyed building. Grounded next to itwas the tapered form of a spacer's pinnace. Two men had come fromthe open lock and were standing at the edge of the burnt area.
Brion's boots grated loudly on the broken wreckage. The men turnedquickly towards him, guns raised. Both of them carried ion rifles.They relaxed when they saw his offworld clothes.
"Bloody damned savages!" one of them growled. He was a heavy-planetman, a squashed-down column of muscle and gristle, whose head barelyreached Brion's chest. A pushed-back cap had the crossed slide-rulesymbol of ship's computer man.
"Can't blame them, I guess," the second man said. He wore purser'sinsignia. His features were different, but with the same compactedbody the two men were as physically alike as twins. Probably fromthe same home planet. "They're gonna get their whole world blown outfrom under them at midnight. Looks as if the poor slob in thestreets finally realized what is happening. Hope we're in jump-spaceby then. I saw Estrada's World get it, and I don't want to see thatagain, not twice in one lifetime!"
The computer man was looking closely at Brion, head tilted sidewaysto see his face. "You need transportation offworld?" he asked."We're the last ship at the port, and we're going to boil out ofhere as soon as the rest of our cargo is aboard. We'll give youa lift if you need it."
Only by a tremendous effort at control did Brion conceal thedestroying sorrow that overwhelmed him when he looked at thatshattered wasteland, the graveyard of so many. "No," he said."That won't be necessary. I'm in touch with the blockading fleetand they'll pick me up before midnight."
"You from Nyjord?" the purser growled.
"No," Brion said, still only half aware of the men. "But there istrouble with my own ship." He realized that they were lookingintently at him, that he owed them some kind of explanation."I thought I could find a way to stop the war. Now ... I'm not sosure." He hadn't intended to be so frank with the spacemen, but thewords had been uppermost in his thoughts and had simply slipped out.
The computer man started to say something, but his shipmate spearedhim in the side with his elbow. "We blast soon--and I don't like theway these Disans are looking at us. The captain said to find outwhat caused the fire, then get the hell back. So let's go."
"Don't miss your ship," the computer man said to Brion, andhe started for the pinnace. Then he hesitated and turned. "Surethere's nothing we can do for you?"
Sorrow would accomplish nothing. Brion fought to sweep the dregsof emotion from his mind and to think clearly. "You can help me,"he said. "I could use a scalpel or any other surgical instrumentyou might have." Lea would need those. Then he remembered Telt'sundelivered message. "Do you have a portable radio transceiver?I can pay you for it."
The computer man vanished inside the rocket and reappeared a minutelater with a small package. "There's a scalpel and a magnetizedtweezers in here--all I could find in the med kit. Hope they'll do."He reached inside and swung out the metal case of a self-containedtransceiver. "Take this, it's got plenty of range, even on thelonger frequencies."
He raised his hand at Brion's offer to pay. "My donation," he said."If you can save this planet I'll give you the whole pinnace aswell. We'll tell the captain we lost the radio in some trouble withthe natives. Isn't that right, Moneybags?" He prodded the purserin the chest with a finger that would have punched a hole througha weaker man.
"I read you loud and clear," the purser said. "I'll make out aninvoice so stating, back in the ship." They were both in the pinnacethen, and Brion had to move fast to get clear of the takeoff blast.
A sense of obligation--the spacemen had felt it too. The realizationof this raised Brion's spirits a bit as he searched through therubble for anything useful. He recognized part of a wall stillstanding as a corner of the laboratory. Poking through the ruins, heunearthed broken instruments and a single, battered case that hadbarely missed destruction. Inside was the binocular microscope, theright tube bent, its lenses cracked and obscured. The left eyepiecestill seemed to be functioning. Brion carefully put it back in thecase.
He looked at his watch. It was almost noon. These few pieces ofequipment would have to do for the dissection. Watched suspiciouslyby the onlooking Disans, he started back to the warehouse. It was along, circuitous walk, since he didn't dare give any clues to hisdestination. Only when he was positive he had not been observed orfollowed did he slip through the building's entrance, locking thedoor behind him.
Lea's frightened eyes met his when he went into the office. "Afriendly smile here among the cannibals," she called. Her strainedexpression gave the lie to the cheeriness of her words. "What hashappened? Since I woke up, the great stone face over there"--shepointed to Ulv--"has been telling me exactly nothing."
"What's the last thing you can remember?" Brion asked carefully.He didn't want to tell her too much, lest this bring on the shockagain. Ulv had shown great presence of mind in not talking to her.
"If you must know," Lea said, "I remember quite a lot, Brion Brandd.I shan't go into details, since this sort of thing is best kept fromthe natives. For the record then, I can recall going to sleep afteryou left. And nothing since then. It's weird. I went to sleep inthat lumpy hospital bed and woke up on this couch, feeling simplyterrible. With _him_ just sitting there and scowling at me. Won'tyou please tell me what is going on?"
A partial truth was best, saving all of the details that he couldfor later. "The magter attacked the Foundation building," he said."They are getting angry at all offworlders now. You were stillknocked out by a sleeping drug, so Ulv helped bring you here. It'safternoon now--"
"Of the last day?" She sounded horrified. "While I'm playingSleeping Beauty the wor
ld is coming to an end! Was anyone hurtin the attack? Or killed?"
"There were a number of casualties--and plenty of trouble," Brionsaid. He had to get her off the subject. Walking over to the corpse,he threw back the cover from its face. "But this is more importantright now. It's one of the magter. I have a scalpel and some otherthings here--will you perform an autopsy?"
Lea huddled back on the couch, her arms around herself, lookingchilled in spite of the heat of the day. "What happened to thepeople at the building?" she asked in a thin voice. The injectionhad removed her memories of the tragedy, but echoes of the strainand shock still reverberated in her mind and body. "I feel so ...exhausted. Please tell me what happened. I have the feeling you'rehiding something."
Brion sat next to her and took her hands in his, not surprised tofind them cold. Looking into her eyes, he tried to give her some ofhis strength. "It wasn't very nice," he said. "You were shaken up byit, I imagine that's why you feel the way you do now. But--Lea,you'll have to take my word for this. Don't ask any more questions.There's nothing we can do now about it. But we can still find outabout the magter. Will you examine the corpse?"
She started to ask something, then changed her mind. When shedropped her eyes Brion felt the thin shiver that went through herbody. "There's something terribly wrong," she said. "I know that.I guess I'll have to take your word that it's best not to askquestions. Help me up, will you, darling? My legs are absolutelyliquid."
Leaning on him, with his arm around her supporting most of herweight, she went slowly across to the corpse. She looked down andshuddered. "Not what you would call a natural death," she said.Ulv watched intently as she took the scalpel out of its holder."You don't have to look at this," she told him in halting Disan."Not if you don't want to."
"I want to," he told her, not taking his eyes from the body."I have never seen a magter dead before, or without covering,like an ordinary person." He continued to stare fixedly.
"Find me some drinking water, will you, Brion?" Lea said. "Andspread the tarp under the body. These things are quite messy."
After drinking the water she seemed stronger, and could standwithout holding onto the table with both hands. Placing the tip ofthe scalpel just below the magter's breast bone, she made the longpost-mortem incision down to the pubic symphysis. The great,body-length wound gaped open like a red mouth. Across the table Ulvshuddered but didn't avert his eyes.
One by one she removed the internal organs. Once she looked up atBrion, then quickly returned to work. The silence stretched on andon until Brion had to break it.
"Tell me, can't you? Have you found out anything?"
His words snapped the thin strand of her strength, and she staggeredback to the couch and collapsed onto it. Her bloodstained hands hungover the side, making a strangely terrible contrast to the whitenessof her skin.
"I'm sorry, Brion," she said. "But there's nothing, nothing at all.There are minor differences, organic changes I've never seenbefore--his liver is tremendous, for one thing. But changes likethis are certainly consistent within the pattern of homo sapiensas adapted to a different planet. He's a man. Changed, adapted,modified--but still just as human as you or I."
"How can you be sure?" Brion broke in. "You haven't examined himcompletely, have you?" She shook her head. "Then go on. The otherorgans. His brain. A microscopic examination. Here!" he said,pushing the microscope case towards her with both hands.
She dropped her head onto her forearms and sobbed. "Leave me alone,can't you! I'm tired and sick and fed up with this awful planet. Letthem die. I don't care! Your theory is false, useless. Admit that!And let me wash the filth from my hands...." Sobbing drowned out herwords.
Brion stood over her and drew a shuddering breath. Was he wrong? Hedidn't dare think about that. He had to go on. Looking down at thethinness of her bent back, with the tiny projections of her spineshowing through the thin cloth, he felt an immense pity--a pity hecouldn't surrender to. This thin, helpless, frightened woman washis only resource. She had to work. He had to _make_ her work.
Ihjel had done it--used projective empathy to impress his emotionsupon Brion. Now Brion must do it with Lea. He had had some sessionsin the art, but not nearly enough to make him proficient.Nevertheless he had to try.
Strength was what Lea needed. Aloud he said simply, "You can do it.You have the will and the strength to finish." And silently his mindcried out the order to obey, to share his power now that hers wasdrained and finished.
Only when she lifted her face and he saw the dried tears did herealize that he had succeeded. "You will go on?" he asked quietly.
Lea merely nodded and rose to her feet. She shuffled like asleepwalker jerked along by invisible strings. Her strength wasn'ther own, and the situation reminded him unhappily of that last eventof the Twenties when he had experienced the same kind of drainingactivity. She wiped her hands roughly on her clothes and openedthe microscope case.
"The slides are all broken," she said.
"This will do," Brion told her, crashing his heel through the glasspartition. Shards tinkled and crashed to the floor. He took some ofthe bigger pieces and broke them to rough squares that would fitunder the clips on the stage. Lea accepted them without a word.Putting a drop of the magter's blood on the slide, she bent over theeyepiece.
Her hands shook when she tried to adjust the focusing. Using lowpower, she examined the specimen, squinting through the angled tube.Once she turned the sub-stage mirror a bit to catch the lightstreaming in the window. Brion stood behind her, fists clenched,forceably controlling his anxiety. "What do you see?" he finallyblurted out.
"Phagocytes, platelets ... leucocytes ... everything seems normal."Her voice was dull, exhausted, her eyes blinking with fatigue asshe stared into the tube.
Anger at defeat burned through Brion. Even faced with failure, herefused to accept it. He reached over her shoulder and savagelytwisted the turret of microscope until the longest lens was inposition. "If you can't see anything--try the high power! It'sthere--I know it's there! I'll get you a tissue specimen."He turned back to the disemboweled cadaver.
His back was turned and he did not see that sudden stiffening of hershoulders, or the sudden eagerness that seized her fingers as theyadjusted the focus. But he did feel the wave of emotion that welledfrom her, impinging directly on his empathetic sense. "What is it?"he called to her, as if she had spoken aloud.
"Something ... something here," she said, "in this leucocyte. It'snot normal structure, but it's familiar. I've seen something like itbefore, but I just can't remember." She turned away from themicroscope and unthinkingly pressed her gory knuckles to herforehead. "I know I've seen it before."
Brion squinted into the deserted microscope and made out a dim shapein the center of the field. It stood out sharply when hefocused--the white, jellyfish shape of a single-celled leucocyte. Tohis untrained eye there was nothing unusual about it. He couldn'tknow what was strange, when he had no idea of what was normal.
"Do you see those spherical green shapes grouped together?" Leaasked. Before Brion could answer she gasped, "I remember now!" Herfatigue was forgotten in her excitement. "_Icerya purchasi_, thatwas the name, something like that. It's a coccid, a little scaleinsect. It had those same shapes collected together within itsindividual cells."
"What do they mean? What is the connection with Dis?"
"I don't know," she said; "it's just that they look so similar. AndI never saw anything like this in a human cell before. In thecoccids, the green particles grow into a kind of yeast that liveswithin the insect. Not a parasite, but a real symbiote...."
Her eyes opened wide as she caught the significance of her ownwords. A symbiote--and Dis was the world where symbiosis andparasitism had become more advanced and complex than on any otherplanet. Lea's thoughts spun around this fact and chewed at thefringes of the logic. Brion could sense her concentration andabsorption. He did nothing to break the mood. Her hands wereclenched, her eyes staring unseeingly at the wall as her mind raced. br />
Brion and Ulv were quiet, watching her, waiting for her conclusions.The pieces were falling into shape at last.
Lea opened her clenched hands and smoothed them on her sodden skirt.She blinked and turned to Brion. "Is there a tool box here?" she asked.
Her words were so unexpected that Brion could not answer for amoment. Before he could say anything she spoke again.
"Not hand tools; that would take too long. Could you find anythinglike a power saw? That would be ideal." She turned back to themicroscope, and he didn't try to question her. Ulv was still lookingat the body of the magter and had understood nothing of what theyhad said.
Brion went out into the loading bay. There was nothing he could useon the ground floor, so he took the stairs to the floor above. Acorridor here passed by a number of rooms. All of the doors werelocked, including one with the hopeful sign TOOL ROOM on it. Hebattered at the metal door with his shoulder without budging it. Ashe stepped back to look for another way in, he glanced at his watch.
Two o'clock! In ten hours the bombs would fall on Dis.
The need for haste tore at him. Yet there could be no noise--someonein the street might hear it. He quickly stripped off his shirt andwrapped it in a loose roll around the barrel of his gun, extendingit in a loose tube in front of the barrel. Holding the rolled clothin his left hand, he jammed the gun up tight against the door, themuzzle against the lock. The single shot was only a dull thud,inaudible outside of the building. Pieces of broken mechanism jarredand rattled inside the lock and the door swung open.
When he came back Lea was standing by the body. He held the smallpower saw with a rotary blade. "Will this do?" he asked. "Runs onits own battery; almost fully charged too."
"Perfect," she answered. "You're both going to have to help me." Sheswitched into the Disan language. "Ulv, would you find some placewhere you can watch the street without being seen? Signal me whenit is empty. I'm afraid this saw is going to make a lot of noise."
Ulv nodded and went out into the bay, where he climbed a heap ofempty crates so he could peer through the small windows set high inthe wall. He looked carefully in both directions, then waved to herto go ahead.
"Stand to one side and hold the cadaver's chin, Brion," she said."Hold it firmly so the head doesn't shake around when I cut. Thisis going to be a little gruesome. I'm sorry. But it'll be thefastest way to cut the bone." The saw bit into the skull.
Once Ulv waved them into silence, and shrank back himself into theshadows next to the window. They waited impatiently until he gavethem the sign to continue again. Brion held steady while the sawcut a circle completely around the skull.
"Finished," Lea said and the saw dropped from her limp fingers tothe floor. She massaged life back into her hands before she finishedthe job. Carefully and delicately she removed the cap of bone fromthe magter's head, exposing his brain to the shaft of light fromthe window.
"You were right all the time, Brion," she said. "There is your alien."