CHAPTER XIII The Sleepers Awake

Court busied himself with the golden-haired girl. Jansaiya's feline, sophisticated green eyes, and the vague suggestion of cruelty about her lips, were not apparent now as she lay in cataleptic sleep. Rather she seemed some elfin creature out of Earth's myth-haunted past, a daughter of Neptune.

The gossamer, violet-tinted robe scarcely veiled the alluring curves of her slim form. Her lashes lay golden on the rose-petal cheeks. She seemed so helpless, so childlike. Utterly trusting, she lay curled like a kitten on the couch.

The poignant loveliness of the Atlantean girl was suddenly an aching stab in Court's heart. He felt no passion for her, no infatuation. She was too completely removed from mundane life for that. But Jansaiya curiously seemed to typify and embody for Court something he had never known. Out of the world's youth, she was youth, a symbol of the dreams that most men know before they grow too old.

Staring down at Jansaiya, Court realized that he had never known youth and wondrous dreams. Unexpectedly he thought of Marion Barton, whom he had left on Earth. He put her out of his mind by working swiftly.

Occasionally Thordred came to the door of the laboratory to watch, but as time wore on the giant appeared less often. Though he had learned much when the thought-transference helmet had given him the knowledge of Ardath's brain, Thordred had not acquired the Kyrian's super-mentality.

Guiding the ship back to Earth was a difficult task. Besides, he was busy making certain adjustments on the thought-helmet. So he remained in the laboratory, and did not see Jansaiya waken.

Court had turned away to stare curiously at the other two sleepers, Li Yang and Scipio the Carthaginian. The giant warrior puzzled him. Since the man wore only a breech-clout, Court found it hard to guess his origin. The color of the skin was Negroid, but the thin, firm, harsh lips and the hair certainly were not. Li Yang, though, was obviously an Oriental. What did that mean? Had this space ship actually come from another world?

The golden-haired girl might have been born on an alien planet—perhaps even Thordred and the sleeping, naked giant. But the Oriental? Court frowned, and then glanced at Jansaiya as she stirred.

She had been breathing regularly for some time. Now her lashes fluttered and the green eyes opened. When she looked up at Court, a soft, wordless sound of inquiry murmured from the red lips.

"Athloyee s'ya voh—"

Court matched the girl's language, which he did not know was Atlantean, with Latin.

"Don't try to talk yet. You are safe."

The brows wrinkled in puzzlement as the cruel gaze scrutinized him.

"I am safe? Of course. But where is Ardath?"

"Dead. Thordred—"

Court paused, startled at the look on Jansaiya's face. He saw fear, and incredulous amazement, and a soft smile of evil triumph that repelled him.

"Dead?" She turned her head and looked across the room. "Li Yang. Yes. And Scipio. But Thordred, is he dead also?"

"No. Shall I get him?"

Court rose, but halted as a slim hand touched him.

"Wait. Who are you?"

Before he could reply, Thordred's harsh voice broke in.

"Jansaiya! You are awake? Good!"

The giant strode into the room, his amber eyes intent on the girl. Briefly they flickered toward Court.

"We are in the atmosphere now. There is not much time. Come with me."

Thordred made a quick, stealthy signal to Jansaiya, which Court failed to understand. The Atlantean girl pursed her lips but said nothing.

In the laboratory, Thordred pointed to a chair.

"Sit down, Court. Put on this helmet."

He picked up a bulky head-piece, crowned with helical wires, and extended it. Court hesitated.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously.

"Nothing dangerous. It will teach you my language, and teach me yours. Certain memory patterns—knowledge of our native tongue—will be transferred from my brain to yours, and vice versa. Come."

Thordred placed a duplicate helmet on his own head and sat down. Some inexplicable impulse made Court resist.

"I'm not sure—"

The giant grinned suddenly.

"I told you I mean you no harm. If I had wanted to kill you, I could have done it long ago. I need your knowledge, and you need mine." Thordred chuckled at some secret thought. "And it is best that we know each other's language."

"All right"

Court nodded and slipped the helmet on his head. Simultaneously Thordred leaned forward and touched a keyboard, there was a whining crackle of released energy. Court felt the momentary agony of intolerable stricture about his skull, then it was gone. The scene before him was blotted out by a curtain of darkness. He lost consciousness…

It seemed scarcely a second later when he awoke. Painfully opening his eyes, he saw that the laboratory was empty. His head ached fearfully. The helmet, however, was gone, as he discovered by investigating with his hands.

"Awake, eh?" The words were unmistakably in English. Thordred stood on the threshold. He went to a shelf, took a flask from it, and gave it to Court. "Drink this. It's a stimulant. Not like your—what was it—brandy, but equally potent."

Court gulped the fluid, which was tasteless and incredibly cold. Immediately his headache was gone. He glanced up at the giant.

"You learned English, I see. That helmet's a handy gadget. But I didn't learn your language!"

"No," Thordred admitted. "The adjustment wasn't quite accurate. But it doesn't matter. There's plenty of time. Meanwhile, as you say, I can talk English. Only that was necessary for us to be able to discuss scientific principles."

Stephen saw the common sense of that. There were no ancient Latin terms for modern scientific theories and devices.

"Where are we now?" he asked.

"On Earth." Thordred glanced searchingly at him. "Court, I'll be frank with you. I learned more than merely your language from your mind. The Plague that worries you, for example. I acquired your memory of that."

"You did?"

Court's dark face twisted in a scowl as he felt the premonition of danger. Just how much had Thordred learned from him? He shrugged, knowing that it did not matter. The bearded giant was a friend, the only strong ally on Earth. Why look for trouble where none existed?

"I've decided what's best to be done," Thordred said. "This Plague—I know no more about it than you do. I don't know its origin or nature, nor any way of defeating it."

Court leaped to his feet, a sick emptiness in his stomach.

"Thordred! With your science and mine, we should be able to find some way of conquering it."

"There's only one way. Earth is doomed. Anyone who remains will eventually be destroyed. But this is a space ship, Court, and it isn't necessary for us to wait for destruction." With a lifted hand, Thordred forestalled interruption. "Wait. There are other planets where life is possible, where the Plague doesn't exist. We can carry from fifty to seventy passengers, men and women. That will be enough to start a new race and civilization on another world."

"No!" Court scarcely knew he spoke. "You mean go off and leave the world to doom?"

"What good would it be to stay? We'd merely guarantee our own destruction. You're a strong, intelligent man, Court, the sort of person I want in the civilization I shall build. That's why I did not kill you."

Court's eyes narrowed. There was a dead silence. Thordred's chill glance did not falter.

"I can kill you, even now, quite easily," he went on slowly. "But the choice is yours. Join me, serve me with your fine brain and muscles, and you need not die. What's your answer?"

Court was silent, trying to analyze his feelings. Of course his anxiety to defeat the Plague was purely scientific. How could he, a super-intellect, feel any sympathy for ordinary men and women? What did it matter if Earth died, as long as a new civilization would be built on a distant, safer world?

A bell rang sharply through the ship. When Thordred flicked on a vision screen, Court stared at it.

The space ship had landed in what seemed to be a park. Suddenly he recognized it as Central Park, in New York. About the ship, a cordon of police was keeping back a surging crowd. A small group of uniformed men huddled close to the hull, using an acetylene torch to burn through the metal.

Thordred grinned. "Perhaps I could have landed in a less populated spot, but I'm impregnable, with the weapons at my command. One flash of a certain ray, and that crowd will be burned to cinders."

("You don't intend to—" Court heard himself saying.

"But I do. The sooner Earth learns my power, the better!"

Thordred turned and went to a control board. Stephen Court stared at him. The emotions he had rigidly subdued all his We were flooding up into that cold brain of his. But it was not cold now. Burning in Court's mind was the face of Marion Barton, tender with humanity. He saw the face of old Sammy, brown and wrinkled. Sammy had sacrificed himself for an ideal in which Court did not believe.

He had not believed in it till now. Court's heritage, the basic humanity in him, suddenly flooded through the artificial barriers of restraint. He had fought the Plague to save men and women from horrible death, though he had not realized his true motive till now. Falsely he had told himself that he was a scientific machine. He had almost hypnotized himself into believing it. But all along, Court realized now, his motives had been those of common humanity.

A super-mentality, perhaps, but first of all he was a man! He would instinctively fight to protect those weaker than himself, even against insuperable odds.

Court's breath caught in his throat as he saw Thordred push a lever in the control board. With silent desperation he hurled himself at the bearded giant.

He was hurled back by a paralyzing shock. Thordred whirled, his mouth gaping. As Court tensed himself for another leap, the giant halted him with a lifted hand.

"You fool, you can't penetrate this force screen around my body. Stay where you are!"

Court did not move, but his lean figure quivered with suppressed fury.

"You have your science, Thordred, but so have I."

"Your science?" Thordred bellowed. He thrust out a huge hand, gripped Court. "Listen to me! I told you I learned more from you than your language. That was true. I drained your brain of all the knowledge it held. Your memory is mine now."

Court went sick as the import of the words struck home. His gaze went from Thordred's face, moved swiftly about the laboratory for some weapon. But the apparatus was utterly unfamiliar to him. Yet it had to be based on rigid scientific principles that would be the same in any universe.

Court's mind worked with frantic speed, trying to find some coherent pattern. Levers, buttons, wiring, transparent tubes—each one had its definite part. On one panel, several red lights were flashing on and off. Below each light, Court recognized what must have been push-buttons.

There were two possible answers. Either the switchboard had some connection with Thordred's death ray, of which he had spoken, or else it was part of an alarm system. It was probably an alarm system, since Thordred was busy at another instrument panel. The police outside the ship were trying to burn through a port, and the red light was flashing. The button beneath that light, Court decided, probably opened the door.

His face was immobile as he shrugged, deliberately letting his shoulders droop despairingly. Thordred's mouth twisted into a triumphant grin. He half turned from his prisoner, and his hand touched the lever again.

And then Court sprang—not at Thordred. He leaped toward the panel where the red light glowed. His finger stabbed out and depressed the button!

Загрузка...