Fantastic Stories Presents the Imagination (Stories of Science and Fantasy) Super Pack. Edmond Hamilton

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      Julia didn’t budge.

      “ . . . I slipped,” Walt said apologetically. Sweat glistened on his upper lip.

      “Try again!” Forential ordered.

      **Cut the power in the big transmitter,** he instructed.

      The aliens had been unwilling to complete their mutations. To do so would have given the mutants too much autonomy. By arranging to have the final effects dependent upon the transmission of certain frequency impulses, the aliens could—in the unlikely event of difficulty with their charges—reduce them to earth-normals by the flick of a switch. It also was an arrangement necessary to their invasion plan. The aliens were careful.

      **It’s cut.**

      A moment later, Walt said, “She’s changed!”

      (The mutants in the larger compartment had ceased to be able to hear or put their hands through walls.)

      Now! Forential ordered.

      A pause.

      *

      Walt let out his breath in an explosive burst. He shook his head. “It’s no use. I can’t.”

      Forential’s tentacles went limp. He had known it was impossible to teleport higher life forms against their resistance; he had hoped she would have been caught off guard.

      **Cut the transmitter in again,** Forential thought wearily.

      **She’ll have to be killed,** Lycan projected with an undertone of terror.

      **Send him down,** Fierut, the engineer, suggested, trembling in fear. **Since he has potential knowledge of the other compartment, he will have to be destroyed anyway if he remains. Send him down to kill her.**

      **We can cut off his transmitter when the main force strikes. He can’t do us any harm down there . . . .**

      “You’ll have to go down and kill her,” Forential told Walt. “She is a clever, clever traitor . . . .”

      “Give me the focus rod, so I can practice the death radiation with it,” Walt said eagerly.

      Forential answered smoothly, with scarcely an instant’s hesitation; but during that time, he explored the situation and his answer was a considered one. “No, you’ll have to go unarmed. We can’t run the risk of premature exposure.”

      **Stress that,** the Elder insisted.

      “I can kill earthmen, too?”

      “Just her,” Forential said, knowing Walt would obey him. “Just her,” he repeated for emphasis. “Remember that. Approach her carefully. Do not let her suspect what you intend to do. Lie to her, Walt, anything to get close to her, and then . . . .”

      **I’ll get a ship ready for him,** Lycan thought. **And some suitable clothes.**

      “May I tell my mates goodbye?” Walt asked.

      **Don’t forget he has seen the one from the other compartment,** the Elder reminded Forential sharply.

      “No,” Forential lied. “You haven’t the time. You must leave immediately.”

      **Tell him much depends on him,** the Elder thought.

      “I can’t overstress the importance of this,” Forential said. He too, was trembling now as he began to see the possible implications; his tentacles quivered. His faceted eyes peered deeply into Walt’s face. “It will be a great service to Lyria and to all the people of your race.”

      **It is a good planet,** Lycan thought. **We can’t lose it now!**

      **We’ve already begun to breed for the gravity,** one of the others thought plaintively.

      **By rights it should be ours.**

      **The air is so good, so rich . . . .**

      **We can’t lose it now!** Lycan insisted pathetically.

      **Savages: the thought of the natives horrifies me! Hurry Forential!**

      Forential thought to them with all the conviction he could muster: **This child of mine is very adept. He will kill her.**

      “The ship will have to be destroyed as soon as you land,” Forential told the mutant. “That means you will have to remain until the invasion. Let me review all this again . . . .”

      Walt’s hands jerked with nervous anticipation. “I understand, Forential.”

      **The ship is ready any time, Forential.**

      “Let me review this again . . . .”

      As Walt listened, he thought; I wonder if earthmen can prevent themselves from being teleported? I hope not. I want to teleport them this way and that way, from all around me, whenever one comes close to me. It’s the easiest way to kill them. It’s a shame I couldn’t get the one on Earth . . . . She would have suddenly materialized, bloody, twisted, wrenched, turned inside out—a beautiful corpse; that’s what we should do with earthlings, and with traitors.

      **Lycan: Hurry with your charges.**

      **One more week, Elder. And they will be ready to attack!**

Chapter V

      The thing Walt first noticed was the hugeness of space around his tiny, falling ship. Through the viewplate above him—he was supine—the vast, star-set blackness seemed infinite, seemed to suck his mind out of his body until it was connected only by a tenuous thread. He had seen space from the great wheel that was dwindling behind him; but never before had its immediacy been impressed on him with such force: here, it was an intimate wrapping, clutching at him from all sides.

      He had pointed out as nearly as he could determine it from brief, telepathic contact (the aliens showed him how to center on her) Julia’s location on the planet. The aliens had promised to land him in an unpopulated area on the same part of the continent. The aliens’ thoughts did not come through the shielding around their space station; nor did the thoughts of his compartment-mates. For the first time in his life, he was terribly alone.

      Earth grew in the viewplate; expanding majestically to obliterate the surrounding space, it grew shimmery along its almost regular circumference. The orbit of his saucer-shaped ship flattened into a great spiral. The ship twisted around the Earth from shadow to light and then into shadow again as if it were attached to the loose end of a piece of string being wound up by the slowly turning planet. Gravity pressed his body, crushed him; a sudden, sickening drop left him weightless.

      The aliens maneuvered his ship carefully. Walt could not—as the aliens could—be immersed in a liquid tank to make possible instantaneous changes of direction. They let him down tenderly.

      Hello, Julia thought brightly.

      It was frightening. Here was a Lyrian whose mind had pierced even СКАЧАТЬ