Shadow on the Sand

Chapter VII Bluff

The woman came to the door of the room and stared at Martha. “Get up.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

Martha saw the slight narrowing of the woman’s eyes and she immediately concentrated on making as clear as possible her mental image of the wall. She was barely in time. She felt the thrust press against the wall, fade away.

“He was a fool to teach you that,” the woman said.

“What are you going to do to me?”

“You are not going to be harmed, Martha. After breakfast we will all drive into Harlingen. We want you to be seen with us. And then we’re coming back here.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What good will it do for you to believe or disbelieve? Get up. Stop being a child.”

Martha slowly got out of bed. The woman stood and watched her.

“Only the sickest ones among us are as weak as you Earthpeople. I could break your back with my hands.”

“That must make you very proud and happy.”

“I am proud and happy to be what I am.”

Martha pulled her dress down over her head, closed the zipper at the waist. She turned and smiled at the woman. “What are you really? When you aren’t going around looking like what you aren’t? Some horrid thing with eight legs and leathery wings?”

“At least you have imagination of a sort.”

“Oh, thank you,” Martha said bitterly.

“Use it while you can, my dear,” the woman said softly.

The words set a cold knot of fear growing in Martha’s heart. “What — do — you — mean?”

“Please hurry. You are to prepare food for the three of us.”

“Where’s Quinn?”

“We told you Quinn’s dead.”

“You know who I mean. The other one.”

“His name is Amro — was Amro. For I am quite sure that he is dead by now also. What is the matter? You look ill. Don’t tell me that you feel anything but hate for any of us. Haven’t you wondered what Amro might really look like?”

“Yes. But I don’t care. He isn’t like you and... and the other one out there. He’s more like us. He’s harder and colder and crueler than we are, I know. But he’s more like us than you are.”

The woman smiled. “Please understand that I am only amusing myself by talking to you. You could no more affect me by your good or bad opinion than you could be similarly affected by a stray kitten on the street. Our race is so far superior to yours in every way that I have the utmost difficulty in trying to consider you a rational creature. Fasten your ridiculous clothing and go to the kitchen.”

“Did you ever wonder if it was possibly that you might be the inferior race? Creatures from a sort of second-rate civilization?”

“Is that the sort of thing you told Amro?”

“It might be.”

“Then poor Amro must have been very unstable when he was sent on this operation.” The woman reached out quickly and took Martha’s wrist. She smiled and slowly increased the pressure until Martha felt the thin grating of the bones. She cried out, despising her own weakness.

“Now be obedient,” the woman said.

Though unable to move he was completely conscious as his small craft was drawn into the belly of the freighter. He saw a glistening flash from the corner of his eye and guessed that it was the substitute being sent out in the identical type of craft. Even trapped as he was he was forced to admire the timing and cleverness of the operation.

They had de-accelerated him so recklessly that it had broken the webbing and thrown him against the table. He could feel the runlet of blood on his cheek.

Endless helpless minutes passed and then he was moved, still inside his craft, into another hull. Then he was in darkness. Through the hull of his own tiny ship he heard the rising whine of the ship enclosing him and he knew that it was fast — very fast.

And, helpless in the darkness, he began to plan once more — this time with even greater care.

Somehow they had got on a first name basis during the long vigil. The taller one was named Henry and his co-worker was Will. They called him Jake when their questions were casual, Ingram when they were of a more serious nature.

Both Jake and Henry held glasses on the house. The position of the sun put a harsh glare on the water which reflected back at them.

“There they are!” Jake said in a husky whisper, forgetting that the sound of the waves would keep them from hearing anything short of a shout.

They had appeared at the north end of the house, walking diagonally over toward the two cars. The taller woman with black hair wore a pale blue bare-midriff dress. Martha Kaynan wore a yellow print dress and sandals. The man wore slacks and a sport shirt.

They were walking slowly and the tall woman appeared to be talking to the man. Jake silently cursed, knowing how ordinary they must look to his two new friends.

“The big man isn’t there any more,” Jake said. “I got a hunch he isn’t inside either.”

“Watch this!” Henry said. The smaller woman had lagged behind. Suddenly she turned and began to sprint down the beach.

“She doesn’t go so fast,” Will said.

“I told you she isn’t one of the funny-acting ones.”

The other two made no attempt at pursuit. They turned and calmly watched Martha. The girl stumbled and fell headlong. She got up slowly and turned and walked back toward the other two.

“Look how she’s walking,” Henry said.

“Just find me an answer,” Jake said, “to why she runs up the beach like she was scared out of her wits and then walks back.”

“Maybe she’s a little off upstairs,” Henry suggested.

“I talked to her. I don’t think so.”

“She came back of her own free will,” Henry said. “I don’t see how we have anything to go on, Ingram.”

“I wish he’d pull something fancy so you could see him,” Jake mumbled.

It happened as though in answer to Jake’s request. The convertible was parked on the other side of the sedan. The two women walked around the back of the sedan. The man took two quick running steps and vaulted the sedan, not making a close thing of it but arcing up and over and down with ample room to spare.

“Mother O’Reilly!” Henry gasped.

“See?” Jake said triumphantly. “I read a book on logic once. A guy tells you a crazy story and then if he proves one part of it you’ve got to give him odds on the rest of it panning out.”

Will cursed softly and monotonously. Henry still wore a dazed look.

“Well, are you going after ’em?” Jake demanded.

“I’ll compromise,” Henry said. “Let’s get back to the cars and tail them.”

“We’ll have to make it fast. We’ve got a longer distance to go,” Jake said. “We can pick them up at the fork this side of Port Isabel.”

He lay where they had thrown him, the rug soft under his cheek. He felt the volition returning to nerve and muscle. At first it was but an intensification of the feeling of weakness, and then a rising strength. He stood up then, shrugging the toga of rank into the proper position on his shoulders, wiping the crust of blood from his cheek, smoothing his grey hair back with his fingers.

The room was small. He saw the two of them sitting there, side by side, facing him. Their expressions were gloating. A puffy old man with traces of waning strength in the set of his jaw. An old woman who trembled constantly.

He knew how he looked to them. A smallish weary nondescript man — whose time had run out. His mind was racing, selecting, discarding, sorting.

To be forced to stand was a disadvantage. He moved back and leaned against the wall, folding his arms in his habitual posture. He made himself smile casually.

“Greetings, Dolpha — and you, Renaen.” He gave them a small, ironic bow. “If you had found the opening we provided more quickly I would have had the pleasure of meeting your friend Kama. But we grew tired of waiting for you to take me.”

The old man’s face purpled. “You, sir, are not supposed to be that well acquainted with the innermost organization of the League.”

“Oh but I am. I know many things. I know that there is a wall between us, and so I shall not make a fool of myself by walking into it.”

Renaen pulled at her chin. She said, “You made Dolpha so angry that he missed the point you made. You speak as though it were planned that we should capture you in the way we did. Isn’t that rather a poor bluff? You seek to make us uncertain of ourselves and thus gain the advantage. Isn’t that correct?”

“The fact that I wasn’t killed at once indicates to me that you were uncertain about many things before you put your plan into effect. And we have been so certain of your uncertainty that I was willing to take the risk.” He gave his words a quiet confidence. He was rewarded by the look in their eyes.

Dolpha’s eyes narrowed. “All right, sir. Suppose, just to amuse the two of us, we accept the premise. That it was your desire to be taken captive. That would indicate that you wish to speak about something.”

“I did wish to. Now that I’ve seen the two of you, I wonder if it is worth while. You showed a certain amount of intelligence in risking having me brought to Strada but that may be just senile shrewdness.”

“There are ways that you can pay for insults,” Renaen said shrilly.

He laughed. “I hardly think so. You must have X-rayed me. And the pellet put torture out of date before any of us were born.”

“We have ways of making it ineffective,” Renaen said.

Again he laughed. “Oh, come now! We are wasting time. And you will be surprised at how little time there is left. You have one fairly competent man here — Rellovo. I want to state a concept and a few formulae to him. Then you can test his reaction. Send for him.”

“Can you give us orders?”

“Can you afford to pass up the chance of learning how the Center has finally won?”

The cold confidence and finality of that statement staggered the two of them. He could see that. The wall between them became suddenly opaque. He waited patiently. When it cleared again Rellovo stood behind them.

The Chief stated crisply the reasoning behind the formulae, the formulae themselves and the result. He watched Rellovo’s face as he talked, seeing first the doubt, then the high excitement of the scientific mind, then the staring fear as he suddenly realized that it was in the hands of the enemy.

“Well?” Dolpha said.

“It... it sounds convincing,” Rellovo stammered. “There would have to be tests made — we know a little about the nature of negative matter — I would have to think about it and—”

“But there’s no time for thinking,” the Chief said. “We went through that doorway some time ago. And we’ve been preparing. Major weapons have been taken into that adjoining world. Installations have been constructed. You cannot attack us there. But we can emerge at any time at any place on this planet and smash you.”

“Could this be true?” Dolpha yelled at Rellovo.

“On one hand, it would appear that—”

“Don’t write me a text! Could it be true? Is it possible!”

“Yes, sir.”

Suddenly the fear went out of Dolpha’s rheumy eyes. He leaned back in his chair and said softly, “Very clever. For a moment your bluff came close to working. But there is one question you can’t answer. If it is true why haven’t you struck?”

“Very simple. We are too closely interwoven here. We can’t hurt you without hurting some of our own installations and if you were desperate enough you might attempt quite successfully to destroy the whole planet. The Center needs Strada as the administrative headquarters for the entire system. Now that victory is so easy there is no point at all in hunting you down and wiping you out. Too much trouble. Just give up.”

“And if we don’t?”

“One hour and — let me see. One hour and forty-one minutes from now this structure will have suffered a slight change. Some of it will be dust, heading toward the stratosphere, and the rest of it should be a fairly large molten pool.

“Every other principal League installation on Strada will suffer the same consequences. The entire attack has been coordinated or an automatic basis and it is now controlled by a timing device in my headquarters. The timing device is so adjusted that no one can disengage it but myself.” He saw Rellovo bend over to whisper in Dolpha’s ear.

He said more loudly, “Naturally the destruction of my headquarters would set the entire affair off a bit prematurely.”

Rellovo straightened up, his face white, his mouth working. “We can arrange to strike back,” Renaen said. “In fact, it—”

“—it is already arranged, I know,” the Chief said, “and has been for a long time. We haven’t underestimated you. We both have had a knife at each others’ throat for many years. But it now happens that our knife is sharper.”

“If we hold you here,” Dolpha said, “you die with us.”

The Chief shrugged. “Why not? I would say that my work is over. They can call me the man who defeated the League. When I permitted you to capture me I was taking that chance. One hour and thirty-six minutes now.”

Once again the wall became opaque. He let out his breath in a long shuddering sigh. So far it had gone well. The minutes went by. Fear grew in him, fear that they had sensed the bluff, had decided to wait until the designated time.

The wall cleared. Dolpha sat alone. The other chair was empty. And there was a tiny smear of blood on the arm of it.

“Now there is only one of us to deal with,” Dolpha said. “She had passed her usefulness to the League. I have been in touch with the others. They will abide by my decision. I see no reason why the League, recognizing the Center as the ultimate authority, cannot continue to function on a dependent basis.

“Our organization is already set up to handle troublesome administrative details, thus taking them off your hands. Naturally both the Center and the League can disband all agent organizations. I promise complete capitulation.”

The Chief gave him an ironic smile. “You will not disband your agent organizations only to start newer more secret ones?”

“Why, of course not!” said Dolpha.

“And you will not set up any experiment to develop a mode of egress to the twin world?”

Dolpha gave a slight bow. “The League will have enough to do handling routine administrative work. Science is the province of the Center. Now let us arrange your passage back to your own headquarters so that you can deactivate that timing device. The thought of it ticking on and on makes me very nervous.”

“You trust me, eh?” the Chief asked.

“Of course... of course. There seems to be one hour and sixteen minutes left. Transportation has been arranged for you. You will arrive safely at your headquarters when there is exactly fifty-nine minutes left. It should not take you over thirty minutes to establish your correct identity and five minutes to reach the device. We shall expect that as soon as you have deactivated it you will communicate with us through official channels advising us of that fast.

“If we do not hear from you and have not heard from you exactly five minutes before the time you stated we shall launch our own attack on all Center installations. And should you attack first, please understand that your attack, even if all League installations are destroyed, will do nothing to diminish the force of our retaliation.”

“I understand.”

“Then go through the door on your left. It is now unlocked. Follow the guard detail.”

The Chief arrived, as Dolpha had said, when there were but fifty-nine minutes left of the entirely imaginary period. As the substitute had been detected and killed minutes after the duplicate craft had landed identification took but ten minutes.

He brushed off any attempt at questioning and went immediately to his headquarters. He had been able to act assured because the timing device was there and had been there for over two years. But it had never been connected.

He proceeded to connect it. It was dizzying to think of the multiplicity of automatic weapons of death and destruction which lay, brooding and silent, waiting for the tiny impulse. With the most infinite care he set it to coincide with the exact minute at which Dolpha had promised, if word didn’t come, to unleash the equally potent hell that the League had labored so long to perfect. And then he prayed to the rumored gods of the long-forgotten golden age of the Stradai.