"Yes, I know that would be best, although I dislike to think of it, for this is my favorite."
The Ruler cantered on, and the young man followed slowly, letting the caval hobble along at its own gait. When Inver finally reached the stables, he talked with the head groom, Endar, and with the animal physician, who arrived shortly afterwards.
"I'm not sure," was the doctor's statement after much studying. "I'll try to save it, but I don't know if such an injury will heal or not. The ligament seems to have been torn loose, and being inside the leg it is hard to get at it with medicine. See how badly it has swollen already."
The caval was put into its stall, and after treating it as best he could with the limited knowledge and techniques known, the doctor left.
Hanlon knew about the accident, of course, and had been keeping the caval from feeling too much of the pain. He made it a point to be standing near while the animal was being examined and treated, and was surprised at how little the doctor could do. The Estrellan veterinarian did not even apply hot or cold compresses, nor bandage the swollen leg in any way. Also, apparently, he did not know about hypodermics for injecting medicine into the injured parts.
Later in the afternoon, after their work was done and he had some free time, Hanlon thought more concisely about the matter. If he could help any, he would make a friend of Inver, he felt sure. More than ever he liked the young fellow, whom he decided was a real man in every respect.
But he must be careful not to give himself away—not to display knowledge Estrellans did not know.
Suddenly he recalled the shooting of the fish, and what he had been able to do there. "I wonder if I can help this healing in any way, with my mind?" he pondered.
The other grooms, including Endar, had left the stables for the bunkhouse, so Hanlon was there alone. He sat down near the injured caval's stall, insinuated his mind into that of the animal, and began studying its brain, nerves and muscles. After considerable intensive study he found the way to make its muscles relax—he had already long since established a nerve block so that the caval felt no pain. Now he learned to make those muscles and nerves contract or relax, even to the point of almost causing a temporary paralysis.
Deeper and ever deeper he probed into its physical structure. Especially now, he tried to trace the nervous system connecting with its various glands, looking for confirmation or refutation of a startling concept he had glimpsed.
After much study and experimentation by the trial and error method, he was beginning to find it possible to partially control the increase or decrease of flow of the secretions of its glands—but far from perfectly. For it was an intricate and involved method, necessitating as it did the locating of the nerves that led to and controlled those glands, and then learning how to activate or inhibit them—nor could he be sure it was not chance only the few times he made them operate as he wished.
Yet he watched carefully to see the results of the activations of each gland, and finally believed he had found the one that was the master gland in charge of the body's healing functions. He now worked on this, trying to direct the added secretions through the blood stream and into the caval's injured parts.
Soon, even though his forcings were spasmodic and infrequent, he could begin to perceive that this was actually the way it should be done—the wounded ligaments and flesh and muscles showed signs of starting to heal a bit faster than nature was doing it.
His deep concentration was rudely broken by a heavy hand on his shoulder, and an angry voice saying, "What d'you think you're doing here?"
Looking up, he saw that it was Endar. Hanlon recalled the portion of his mind from that of the caval.
"Oh," he scrambled to his feet and fixed his face in a look of deep concern. "I was just studying Inver's poor caval, and trying to figure out a way to help cure its leg."
The head groom sneered. "I suppose you think you know more about it than I do, or the doctor."
Hanlon was certain he knew far more than the groom, and probably things the doctor had never even guessed. But he kept his voice humble and almost servile. "I didn't say or mean that, nyer. But I have had some experience with animals, as I told you and the Ruler, and I've helped cure many injured ones. Since it was my off time, I didn't think I was overstepping my place to see what I could do."
"You been handling it?" Endar asked sharply.
"Oh, no, nyer, I was just sitting here thinking about it, and trying to remember all I had learned or heard about how such injuries have been healed. Then I was going to come and suggest them to you."
"Well, it's none of your business, so get out and leave it alone," was the surly command . . . and Hanlon left.
But that night, after he was sure the others were all sound asleep, he sent his mind back to the stables and into the brain of Inver's injured mount.
In its spaceship the strange being was feeling a depth of frustration almost unknown to one of its cold, logical race. Its "interrogation" of the prisoners had yielded surprising but already-deduced information. In its rational yet impersonal way the being was somewhat regretful for the death of the one entity. Not because of the death itself, but because there was no logical reason why the entity should be dead, and therefore unable to yield further data.
The one still remaining imprisoned had given up much additional knowledge of a kind that had shocked the being, for it told of conditions never before considered as obtaining in the galaxy. Yet the being did not see how that information could help in this present project—it was, in fact, decidedly inimical to that project's success.
As for the one that had been allowed to "escape," that one had led to the unreadable mind as hoped. Although still kept controlled and UNsane, the being was allowing that one to remain in what it considered a safe hiding place, rather than continually on the run.
But even though the being had now been following that enigmatic entity's body, through its powerful, multiphased scanners, it still could not make any sort of contact with that mind. Thus it did not yet know whether or not that mind was like the other three, or the two that came occasionally and briefly in their ship of space. Under its easily-penetrated disguise, the entity appeared to be like the others, but that could or could not mean anything worth knowing.
It was all very puzzling, and the alien being came as near feeling anger as was possible to one of its phlegmatic nature. But it coldly resolved that that one must, also, die . . . and soon.
CHAPTER 16
DARKNESS MADE NO DIFFERENCE To GEORGE Hanlon in dealing with animal minds, for it was not with his eyes that he "saw" what was inside them. In this particular instance he was grateful for the dark—it made concentration far easier.
He made himself comfortable on his bed, then fitted his mind to that of the wounded animal in the stable. Deeper and ever deeper he probed, tracing line and connectors and synapses carefully. A stray thought brought a grin to his face. "I bet I'm learning things no veterinarian ever learned about animals."
Then he sobered quickly. "Perhaps I should write this up for them—the physiology and endocrinology of it, I mean." He filed the thought away in his mind for future reference. It would be a great contribution to those branches of science, he felt—IF he was successful.
Now he traced nerves, blood vessels, cells, glands. He bored in with every newly-awakened sense alert to catch each particle of new knowledge. He began to learn even more of how the healing and regeneration of cells and tissues worked . . . and after awhile he achieved real beginnings of success.
The things he had been able to do that afternoon, with his first studies, had started the healing of the caval's leg somewhat faster than nature ordinarily did it, but not much more. Now, however, he was able more surely and quickly to continue that work, and by the time he noticed the false dawn lightening the night a bit, and he knew he must get some sleep, the injury was almost entirely healed.
"What a surprise Endar's going to get when he looks at that leg in the morning," he chuckled. For the swelling was reduced, the inflammation all gone, and the caval was able to stand and walk on the foot without limping or apparent pain. In fact, from his ability to read the beast's mind, Hanlon knew the pain was all gone. If nothing happened to irritate it, the leg would be as good as new in a day or so without further attention.
Hanlon was sleeping so soundly the next morning that Endar had trouble waking him, and that did not help in dispelling the anger and distrust in him the head groom knew. Hanlon tried to work hard enough, and was careful to appear willing and ready even for the mean, dirty jobs Endar assigned him, so as not to make the groom any more irritated than he already was.
Shortly after daylight Inver came to the stables to see how his favorite caval was getting along. He and Endar were very much surprised to see that the animal was apparently entirely well, and that the leg showed no signs of the injury of the day before.
"I can't understand it," the young man shook his head. "It must not have been as badly hurt as we thought."
Endar may have had his doubts—and Hanlon saw him throw a quick, wondering glance in his direction—but the groom wisely said nothing, since he had no proof . . . and such a thought was ridiculous, anyway.
When it came time for the Ruler's morning ride, Hanlon was still working inside. But Elus Amir asked to see the new man, and Endar had to call him out.
"Ali, my savior," Amir said as Hanlon appeared. "Are they treating you well, Lona?"
Hanlon bent the knee. "Oh, yes, k'nyer. I have everything to make me happy here, and I love the work. And Endar has been most kind about showing me around, and helping me learn all my duties here so I may serve you better."
"Good. I'd like to have you ride with me this morning," the Ruler said as he mounted.
Hanlon glanced at Endar. He could see that the head groom was not pleased by this, though he said nothing, merely handing the reins of the second mount to Hanlon, then turning away. Hanlon was quickly astride, and the two riders started off at a brisk canter.
As soon as they were well away from the residence, Amir slowed down and motioned Hanlon to come to his side. "Now, tell me all about the Eastern Continent—what conditions are like there, and what the people are saying about things in general."
Hanlon dredged his mind for any and all information he could remember from his studies of the reels of Estrella furnished him by the secret service, as well as what he had learned from others since he came to this planet.
For nearly a penta-period he told what he knew, then said, "One thing is quite noticeable there, k'nyer. The ordinary people I talked to over there—of course, I don't know any of the important ones—all seem very anxious for our world to join the Terran Federation of Planets."
"They are?" the Ruler seemed surprised, but interested. "I thought there was quite a bit of sentiment against it."
Hanlon shrugged as though it was of no importance. "Oh, you hear a lot of talk going around that we would lose our freedom, and that the people of the Federation just want to enslave us, but no one I talked to seemed really to believe it. They think someone there is putting out a lot of propaganda because of some personal reasons. The ordinary people think they would benefit greatly by such a union with more advanced people. One of our newssheets printed a copy of the Federation Agreement, and it states very clearly that all worlds are to have full right to choose their own form of government, and that they keep their full their full . . . "
"Sovereignty," the Ruler supplied the missing word.
"Thank you, k'nyer . . . their full sovereignty at all times. It also went on to say that all the other worlds do just as they please, and that the only purpose of the Federation is to encourage trade and the spread of knowledge among the various planets in an equitable way, and yet see to it that they never get into war with each other, by settling all possible disputes before they get to the explosive point."
Elus Amir was silent for long minutes, thinking seriously, and Hanlon followed those thoughts as they chased themselves across the screen of the Ruler's mind. Finally Amir raised his head. "Er . . . yes, yes, that's all true enough, Lona. But if it is so, why is there such a seemingly-determined effort to persuade me and the people here that it is
not
true?"
"May I speak my thoughts, k'nyer?"
"Eh? Why, of course," Amir looked up in surprise. "That's why I wanted you to come along today."
"Well, sire, it looks to me—and please remember that I'm just a simple countryman, and not used to politics or statesmanship—but it looks to me as though someone wanted to keep us by ourselves so they could run this world the way they want to, and be able to make themselves rich or powerful at the expense of our common people."
"But that's impossible as long as our government is on its guard."
“Exactly, k'nyer. It could not be done as long as you are Ruler, but suppose you . . .”
Elus Amir's head snapped tip irritably at this unfinished warning. "The Second-In-Line is just as jealous of Estrella's welfare as I am," he snapped. "It would not happen under him either."
But Hanlon, reading the Ruler's surface thoughts, knew he must keep quiet for the moment. For Amir was disturbed by hearing this idea from a simple groom. He did not want to give it credence, but doubt had been forced into his mind, first by his son, and now by this man.
But before he could formulate any decisive answer, Hanlon decided boldly to jolt him again.
"I have a friend, k'nyer," he reached into his inner pocket and brought out some papers, "who has been actively studying this matter for some time. He has found out a number of things I am sure will interest you, and about which I doubt very much you know."
The Ruler looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"