Entities: The Selected Novels of Eric Frank Russell (52 page)

He paused while his features quirked to a jolt of agony inside him, then said more slowly, “But the ancestry of David Raven should at best have produced no more than a superb telepath, a mind-probe of unusual penetrating power and extremely acute receptivity. It is conceivable—and contrary to no known laws— that his mental strength might be sufficient to make him impervious to hypnotism, thus causing him to be the first hypno-proof telepath on record. But that is all. That is the limit of his hereditable aptitudes.” He gave the rest of it extra emphasis as he went on, “He could
not
exercise hypnotic or quasi-hypnotic powers of his own, even as a multi-talented mutant, because there is not one hypno among his forebears.”

“That may be—” began Leina.

Lomax chipped in, “The same remarks apply to you. They apply also to your two confreres on Venus, which pair are now having the same kind of interview in similar precautionary conditions.”

“With a similar threat hanging over them?” Raven asked.

Lomax took no notice. Perfectly disciplined, he was answering no questions other than those pertinent to the stage reached in his task.

“Item number two: we discovered that David Raven either had died or shown all symptoms of death and then been resuscitated. The doctor who performed this feat can no longer be called upon for evidence, having died himself three years ago. The incident is not remarkable when considered by itself, as an isolated occurrence. Such things
do
happen though rarely. It becomes noteworthy only when examined in conjunction with other facts.”

The blue eyes shot a glance at Leina before he continued, “Such as the fact that this lady once went swimming, was caught in a powerful undercurrent, apparently drowned, but revived by artificial respiration.
Plus
the facts that your two prototypes on Venus have had equally hairsbreadth escapes.”

“You’ve had one yourself,” Raven riposted. “You told us so at the beginning. You’re lucky to be alive—if it is luck!”

Strongly tempted to admit the escape but deny the pleasure of living in his present condition, Lomax hesitated, nursed his middle, then plowed grimly on.

“Item number three has indirect significance. You have been told by Mr. Carson of certain Terran spaceship experiments so there is no harm in adding more. He did not give you the whole of it. To cut it short, our last exploring vessel went farther into the void than you may suspect. Upon its return the pilot reported that he had been chased by unidentifiable objects of unknown origin. All that his instruments could tell him was that these objects were metallic and radiated heat. There were four of them moving in line abreast at distance too great to permit examination with the naked eye. But they changed course when he changed and undoubtedly were in pursuit. They had greater maneuverability and far more speed.”

“Nevertheless he escaped?” put in Raven with a skeptical smile.

“The escape is fully as much a mystery as the pursuit,” Lomax retorted. “The pilot says the four were overtaking rapidly when a few strange sparkles and gleamings appeared in front of them, whereupon they swung into reverse course and went away. He is convinced that these four were artificial fabrications and his belief is officially endorsed.”

“And what does this mean to us?”

Taking a deep breath, Lomax declared with impressive solemnity, “There is other life in the cosmos and not so far from us either. Its forms, powers, techniques and ways of thought remain matters of pure speculation. It may be humanoid enough to pose as veritable humans, gaining plausibility by using the identities of real humans who have died.”

He whisked a sheet aside, continued with the next. “Or it might be parasitic by nature, able to seize and animate the bodies of other creatures, masquerading thereafter in guise mighty close to perfection. We have no data to go upon in these respects, but we can think, imagine, and conceive the infinite possibilities.”

“Frightened men have bad dreams,” observed Raven.

“I think it’s all terribly silly,” Leina put in. “Are you seriously suggesting that we may be zombies motivated by intelligent parasites from somewhere else?”

“Lady, I am suggesting nothing. I am merely reading papers prepared by my superiors whose conclusions and motives I am not disposed to question. That is my job.”

“Where does it get us?”

“To this point: the commission has informed President Heraty that all four of you—the couple on Venus as well as yourselves—are of identically the same type. Secondly, they are quite unable to define the origin of that type with reasonable certainty. In defiance of the rule that only the dominant talent is inherited, you 
may
be multi-talented mutants of natural human birth, in which case the so-called laws of genetics will have to be modified. On the other hand, you
may
be a nonhuman form of life, disguised in our shape and form, living among us unsuspected until lately.”

“For what purpose?”

It did not faze him in the least. Passing a hand over his bristly hair, he looked physically and mentally weary as he answered, “The purposes of other life-forms are obscure. We know nothing about them—yet. We can, however, make a justifiable assumption.”

“And what is that?”

“If its intentions were friendly another life-form would make contact openly, without attempting concealment.”

“Meaning that surreptitious contact is proof of hostile designs.”

“Exactly!”

Leina said with some morbidity, “I can think of nothing more absurd than to suggest that human beings are not human beings.”

“For the second time, lady,” said Lomax, displaying frigid politeness, “I am not making suggestions. I am no more than a deputy appointed to inform you of the conclusions of experts. They say that you two are multi-talented mutants or non-human life-forms and more probably the latter.”

“I think they’re impertinent,” opined Leina, becoming femininely inconsequential. Lomax let it pass. “If it should be the case that some other form of life has dumped scouts upon our three worlds, unknown to us, the logical conclusion is that their ultimate purpose is antagonistic. It’s the criminal who climbs in through the back window. The honest man knocks at the front door.”

“You have a point there,” admitted Raven, undisturbed.

“Therefore if a life-form powerful enough and intelligent enough to conquer space ahead of ourselves has planted a secret advance party among us, well, it means that humanity soon has to face its greatest crisis ever!” He waved a hand to indicate the fortresslike surroundings. “Hence this extraordinary procedure. Alien invaders stand outside our laws, are not entitled to claim the protection of them.”

“I see.” Rubbing his chin, Raven regarded the other thoughtfully. “What are we supposed to do about all this wild speculation?”

“The onus now rests on you of proving beyond all manner of doubt that you are natural-born humans and not another life-form. The proof must be watertight. The evidence must be incontrovertible.”

Chapter 18

Raven growled in pretended anger, “Darn it, can you prove you’re not something out of Sirius?”

“I won’t argue with you or permit you to disturb my emotions.” Lomax jabbed an indicative thumb at the last sheet of paper. “All I’m concerned with is what it says here. It says you will produce undeniable proof that you are human beings, by which is meant the kind of superior life native to Terra.”

“Otherwise—?”

“Terra will assume the worst and take steps to protect herself by every means available. For a start she will wipe out all three of us here in this room, simultaneously deal with those on Venus and make ready to repel any later attack launched upon us from outside.”

“H’m! All three of us, you say. Tough on you, isn’t it?”

“I told you why I was chosen,” Lomax reminded. “I am quite ready to go should it prove necessary, especially since I’ve been assured that the method to be employed will be superswift and painless.”

“That is a great comfort,” put in Leina, enigmatically.

He eyed them in turn. “I shall go with you solely to deprive you of the last possible way out, your only avenue of escape. There will be no opportunity for one of you to ensure survival by confiscating my person. No other life-form—if such you should happen to be—is going to walk out of this trap in the guise of a man named Lomax. We survive together or die together according to whether or not you produce the evidence my superiors require.”

He was slightly pleased about that. For the first time his resented physical condition had given him power of an invincible kind. In given circumstances such as existed here and now, the ability to contemplate one’s own death with absolute calmness could be a veritably appalling form of strength.

If one were devoid of fear while one’s opponents were filled with it, the conflict could end in only one way: with the defeat of the cravens. In common with those behind him he was taking it for granted that any form of life, human or nonhuman, would value its own survival too highly to share his own abnormal nonchalance about destruction.

In that respect neither he nor those who had planned this situation could have been more mistaken. The difficult thing was for prospective victims to conceal the fact. Their essential tactic was not to reveal it outwardly and to give the recording apparatus a series of reactions manifestly natural from the human point of view.

So in suitably disturbed tones, Raven remarked, “Many an innocent has been slaughtered by the chronic suspicions and uncontrolled fears of others. This world has never lacked its full quota of witch hunters.” He fidgeted as if on edge and asked, “How long do we have to talk ourselves out of this fix? Is there a time limit?”

“Not by the clock. Either you dig up the proof or you don’t. ” Lomax registered tired indifference as to which way it went. “If you can find proof you’ll start trying without delay. If you can’t, the knowledge that you can’t will drive you to desperation sooner or later. You will then have to try a hazardous way out. When that happens I will—” He let his voice trail off.

“You’ll react?”

“Effectively!” Resting elbows on the desk, he propped his chin, took on the air of one prepared to wait for the inevitable. “I am very patient and you’re free to take full advantage of it. But I advise you not to play for time by trying to sit here for a week.”

“That sounds like another threat.”

“It is a friendly warning,” Lomax corrected. “Although they have given far less cause for suspicion the pair on Venus are classified with you and are receiving precisely the same treatment. All four of you are birds of a feather, will be released or executed together.”

“So a coupling exists between here and there?” inquired Raven.

“Correct. Emergency action here causes a signal to be beamed which precipitates the same action there. The same holds good in reverse. That is why we’ve kept the two pairs apart. The more time one pair wastes, the greater the chance of the issue being settled for them by the other couple.”

“Well, it’s a neat arrangement,” Raven conceded.

“You have
two
chances of bidding this world good-by forever: at my hands should you cause me to react, or at the hands of your allies on Venus.” Lomax revealed the shadow of a smile as he added, “You are in the most unhappy position of the man who remarked that he could cope with his enemies but only God could save him from his friends.”

Emitting a deep sigh, Raven lay back and closed his eyes as if concentrating on the problem in hand. That Lomax might try to listen to his thoughts did not worry him in the least. He had complete confidence in the inviolability of his own mental shield and in the inability of any Earth-type telepath to tune so high in the neural band.

“Charles! Charles!”

The response took a long time coming because the other’s mind was absorbed in his predicament and had to be drawn away.

“Yes, David?”

“How far have you got?”

“We’re now being told how four Denebs took after a Terran but were turned away.” A mental chuckle, followed by, “I just can’t imagine what turned them.”

“You are lagging behind us a few minutes. Were near the end here. Who’s dealing with you?”

“A very old man. Quick witted but on his last legs.”

“We’ve got a young one,” Raven informed. “Rather a sad case. So much so that it wouldn’t be thought extraordinary if he had a serious attack and collapsed under the strain of this interview. We could make it look good and sound good on the recorder system. Deplorable but natural. I think we can successfully cover up by taking advantage of his condition.”

“What do you propose?”

“We'll feed the microphones a little real life drama. We’ll use it to establish a plausible semblance of innocence. Then he’ll have his attack, we’ll react naturally and he’ll also react to that because he can’t help it. The result will get you out of your jam because we here will have jumped the gun and thus denied you the chance to say a word in your own defense.”

“How long will it be?”

“In a few minutes’ time.”

Opening his eyes and sitting up like one who has discovered a bright and hopeful solution, Raven said excitedly, “Look, if my life is known in detail it will be obvious that my body could have been confiscated only at the time of my death and resuscitation.”

“No comment,” said Lomax. “Others will decide that point.”

“They’ll agree.” He asserted it with confidence. “Now if we accept this farfetched notion that some other life-form could take over the material body of another creature, how could it also confiscate something so immaterial as that creature’s memories?”

“Don’t ask me—I’m not an expert.” Lomax made a brief note on a pad. “But carry on.”

“If I can relate a wealth of childhood memories from the age of three upward,” continued Raven, with excellent imitation of triumph, “and have most of them confirmed by persons still living, where do I stand then?”

“I don’t know,” said Lomax. “The suggestion is now being considered elsewhere. A signal will tell me whether or not you may extend the theme.”

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