The Horror Read online

  Goldstein knew the next words before Fashong could express them—but no one else would get to hear them. The slightly built Oriental spaceman suddenly trembled as though gripped by the ague.

  In one leap, Everson was there to support him. "Talk!" he yelled. "Fashong, spit it out!"

  Fashong opened his mouth but no sound passed his lips. His hand fluttered in the air like a withered leaf as though he wanted to point in a certain direction. But it turned rigid in midcourse and fell back heavily. Everson felt the small form in his arms go limp.

  "He knew!" exclaimed the colonel. "He knew who our enemy is but he couldn't tell us any more. He's paralyzed like the others."

  "But one thing he did tell us," said Scoobey. "He mentioned that this 'go to the devil' phrase was a typically human expression. That means that one of the three of us is the criminal here." He stared at Weiss and Everson as though wanting to remember the expression on their faces. "No—it has to be one of either of you be-cause I know I'm not the one.

  Everson slowly pulled back into a corner. The paralyzer gun appeared in his hand. "Scoobey or Weiss," he said. "The choice is narrowing down."

  Weiss roared with laughter. "Terrific!" he shouted. "It may sound idiotic but I presume that one of you two is the culprit."

  Now they would be tangling with one another, thought Goldstein contentedly. So let them drive each other insane. What would happen if they eliminated the next victim—in other words, Scoobey? Everson and Weiss would accuse each other. The colonel was armed. Which meant that he didn't have to worry about preserving Everson. The big spaceman would be the last survivor. Mataal, who sat calmly on the deck, did not count. A quick look into the Eppanian's thoughts revealed nothing but homesickness to Goldstein.

  Without intending to, Fashong had led the three men down the wrong track. Each one of them was convinced that only one of the other two could be the guilty one. Everson was mostly suspicious of Weiss; Scoobey believed that Everson was the villain; and Weiss was figuring that Scoobey above all was the one he'd have to defend himself against.

  Amused, Goldstein observed the three weary figures who stood there glaring at each other suspiciously. Everson released the safety catch on his weapon, making it ready to fire, while Scoobey made sure his back was clear. Weiss crouched on the deck and thought that he wouldn't have much chance to defend himself.

  "I think we're acting pretty darn childish," said Weiss. "The Commander believes he will be able to protect himself with that weapon." He smiled disdainfully. "You know very well, sir, that that isn't possible if the same thing happens to you that happened to Fashong—whom are you going to shoot then?"

  Everson did not answer him. Scoobey activated the support arm of his pilot seat and glided upward. Now he was at least 6 feet off the deck.

  Weiss looked up at him. "Do you feel safer up there?" he asked of the First Officer.

  "It clears my position," he said enigmatically.

  They were all in the trap! Goldstein made no effort to suppress his rising sense of triumph. He, a young and inexperienced mutant, was leading these seasoned veterans around by their noses. His magnificent new talent made them play into his hands like so many marbles that he could roll in any desired direction. Goldstein had no further doubt that they would obey him. It was just necessary to wear Everson down to such a point that he would carry out orders without making any trouble. All the others would follow the course of their superior officer. If against all expectations Everson were to still remain unreasonable, in spite of this veritable soul massage he was getting, then he would have to die. With Everson gone, the guppy would lose its moral and spiritual leader, but Scoobey was no poor substitute. Then after Goldstein had released the other spacers from their paralysis, they would think back in horror and avoid taking any risk which could bring the same fate upon them again.

  It was a lucky chance that had played the K-262 into his hands as a wonderful opportunity for testing his paranormal powers and developing them even further. Once he abandoned the guppy, however, he would have to be able to overcome all opposition. Rhodan would not be so easily shaken. Goldstein was well aware of this man's power but he had faith in his own faculties which when once fully unleashed would make him invincible. Goldstein smiled contemptuously. Was it not absurd that a man with no particular parapsychic abilities should rise to be the leader of the Solar Empire? Goldstein was certain that the Mutant Corps was only waiting for a mighty one out of their own ranks to pull Rhodan off his roost. He, Goldstein, would be that man.

  Pensively he observed the long row of the victims. There they lay, rigid and silent. Only their thoughts were not paralyzed. Their minds virtually seethed in fear, hatred and horror over Goldstein's plans. Now that they were bound in motionlessness on the deck, they were aware of the enemy. But the lips that wanted to scream out their knowledge remained mute. Their tongues and throats failed them.

  Goldstein probed more deeply. Yes, there was the formative intent already, to subordinate themselves to the mutant—an intent that had crept secretly into their subconscious m;nds. The inclination was there, needing only to be awakened and intensified. They would bow to him, full of hate and anger. But they would obey.

  The telepath trembled with the sense of his own might. There was for him an effect of intoxication or rapture in these thoughts. He felt contempt for these blind humans who laboriously communicated with mere words and who experienced their environment without really comprehending it. His vision went further.They were primitive—a special breed of animals. A simple piece of wood was meaningless to them because they were only aware of size, form and color. On the other handhe was able to marvel at the fine graining of the wood as well as the structure and grouping of its molecules. With his new extrasensory ability he could even touch and palpate the exquisite crystalline formations of the smallest particles—he was cognizant of their characteristics, he could alter them, even destroy them and build new ones.

  Therefore, he was more than they. From a mental and psychic standpoint, he towered above them—as far as they towered above the apes.

  "Sir!" Weiss' loud voice startled Goldstein from his thoughts. "You're dozing off, sir!"

  Everson had leaned back but now he suddenly pushed himself away from the wall. He could only keep his eyes open with an effort. He rubbed his face with his hand as though he might thus wipe away his fatigue.

  Just don't fall asleep, Goldstein read in Everson's mind. Just for now, of all times, don't fade out!

  Scoobey glowered down at them over the armrest of his chair. "Aren't you tired, Poul?" he asked. "Seems to me you're practically fresh as a daisy."

  "So you're telling me that makes me equally suspicious, right?" inquired Weiss sarcastically. "Just because I've got less flab on me I suppose now I have to give an explanation for my excellent condition." Weiss yawned emphatically. "If I weren't scared out of my boots, I'd sleep," he said.

  Just stay awake, old boy,thought the colonel imploringly. It was only with a great effort of will that he held himself away from the tempting support of the wall at his back.

  Goldstein watched them—the apes! The Commander who was starting to sway in his fatigue... Scoobey, hanging up there in his chair all washed out... and Weiss, so angry and fearful at the same time that he managed to develop a grim sort of humor. Mataal was thinking intently of his home planet, from which he was separated by inconceivable distances. These thoughts were somehow bothersome to Goldstein. They seemed to intensify an inexplicable feeling deep down inside of him, and he did not pursue them any farther.

  Scoobey spoke again. "We have to work out a way for us to stand watch."

  "Why?" asked Weiss. "Better yet, show me a way where I can go peacefully to sleep and I'll show you what I'll do." He looked up at Scoobey almost hopefully.

  "Do you have a suggestion, Walt?" asked Everson hoarsely.

  "We have to converse," said Scoobey. "We have to talk to each other to fight off fatigue and keep awake."

 
"Count me out," objected Weiss.

  Goldstein snorted derisively. The apes were growling and grunting at each other in their monkey language in an attempt to communicate. Weiss lay back on the deck and closed his eyes, definitely determined to go to sleep.

  "Alright, go ahead, Walt," said Everson. "Talk away!" Goldstein did not require much time now for what he had to do. By this time he was more practiced and knew just where to apply his probing forces. Scoobey collapsed loosely over the armrest of his chair.

  "Go ahead, Walt," Everson repeated. He looked up and saw Scoobey's upper torso dangling over the armrest. "Walt!" he called out. "Have you gone to sleep already?"

  He went to the switchboard and caused the seat boom to glide downward. Scoobey's body swayed slightly. Everson went to him, his face suddenly turned to stone. Goldstein involuntarily withdrew from the sudden storm of the colonel's thoughts.

  "Weiss!" yelled Everson, so tensely that his voice cracked.

  Weiss opened his eyes and saw Everson leaning over Scoobey's chair. He looked slowly from Everson to Scoobey. "So you were the one," he said almost in a tone of relief. "If that's the case, what was your purpose in sparing me this long?"

  The paralyzer gun appeared in Everson's hand. A speechless ferocity came over the colonel. Pent-up rage blazed in his eyes. Weiss grinned in weak resignation and the smile remained on his face under the paralyzing effect of the weapon as Everson fired it at him, causing his body to fall back on the deck again. As the technician tumbled into an abyss of unconsciousness, Everson's form swam before him like a giant, shapeless shadow.

  Everson spoke softly in the Eppanian tongue. "It's over with."

  Mataal did not answer him.

  The colonel let Scoobey rise upward again in his seat. "That's where he wanted to be," he said to Mataal. There was that in his voice that indicated he had found the answer. "Now, my friend, you see that you and I are the only ones left on board who can move. That is," he concluded meaningfully, "we—and Goldstein ..."

  9/ THE ULTIMATUM

  Goldstein swept the blanket away and sprang up. "So now you know," he said. It was a statement of confirmation.

  "Yes," replied the colonel, "I had to find out sooner or later."

  Goldstein shrugged indifferently. His new arrogance fairly radiated from him. "Stop playing around with that popgun," he commanded. "You won't be able to fire it anyway. And don't try coming at me with the muscle bit, either—I can read that crazy idea in your thoughts. Before you reached me you'd be keeping company with your buddies who are lying around here at my feet."

  "What do you want from me?" asked Everson.

  With a gesture of mock politeness the mutant indicated the chief pilot's seat. "Won't you be seated, sir?" He moved out from between the bodies of the paralyzed men and waited until Everson had complied. "What I want is the Fauna ," he said, then watched Everson warily.

  Now that Everson knew who his adversary was, all fear had vanished from him. "There's a convenient little phrase," he said, "that you came up with, yourself. So I'll give it back to you: go to the devil! "

  Goldstein laughed. "A typical reaction: stupid and illogical, my dear Colonel. I will call up a few facts in your memory which may change your rather uncircumspect attitude."

  "You think so? I'll not change my opinion—now or later," Everson assured him. "You can talk as much as you want to."'

  "Careful, Colonel!" Goldstein's voice was still mocking and derisive. "There on the deck are 11 paralyzed men. Two more are lying in front of engine mod 3. Of course you just saved me the trouble with Weiss. Certainly you should be interested in having your crewmen become able-bodied again. You know that I have only two alternatives, Everson: either I succeed in taking possession of the guppy or I must die. In the latter case, you know I'll not be without company." He pondered a moment. "Do you see that penzel on the nav table?" he said then.

  As Everson looked in the indicated direction, the mutant caused the writing instrument to float slowly toward them.

  "I see," said Everson, "that you've added psychokinesis to your telepathic ability. But you've already demonstrated it to us enough."

  Goldstein made a gesture commanding him to silence. The penzel began to change its form. It became long and sharp—like a large needle. Against his will, Everson was fascinated by the phenomenon. Suddenly the newly created instrument shot like an arrow through the air. It struck the deck close to Landi and remained there quivering.

  Goldstein went over and pulled it free. He weighed it in his hand deliberately. "You're an intelligent man, Everson. What it's possible for me to do with a thing like this I can also do with larger objects, including living beings. When I spoke to you about our all dying together if you didn't become reasonable, what I meant was that you were going to be a spectator of these deaths, where you would see one man die after another in a special way. So since you're not cooperating yet I'll start with Ramirez. Short and Stanford will be next. I'll save you for the last, Colonel."

  "You'll never get away with it," said Everson. Small beads of sweat stood out on his chalk-white face. "You must be insane, Goldstein. Only a madman could think up something like that. You're a fiend!"

  Goldstein made the long needle rotate on the back of his hand. Then he threw it from him. "Aren't you being melodramatic?" he asked. "Do you want to be responsible for the death of your comrades? All you have to do is obey my orders and everything will take care of itself. I'll release the men from their paralysis and they won't give you any trouble."

  "If I go along with you, then what happens?" inquired Everson with a sense of dark foreboding.

  "You don't have to beat your brains over that part. Your assignment will be to simply take this ship to where I can prepare myself for my further tasks."

  Everson sought to dam up his swirling maelstrom of thoughts. He knew that they were no secret from the telepath. The mutant could read his mind like an open book. If an idea came to Everson, Goldstein would know it simultaneously and could react instantly. The vicious youngster was ruthless enough to follow up his threat and brutally slay the entire crew. In bitter self-condemnation the colonel thought of the mistakes he had made. If he had seen through Goldstein's strategy in the beginning there might have been a number of opportunities for a counterstroke of some kind.

  "Weiss is coming to," announced Goldstein in a strident voice. "You'd better make sure he doesn't try anything he'll be sorry for."

  Everson helped Weiss to his feet. In his confusion, Weiss shook his head and shoved Everson away from him.

  "Don't trouble yourself," he said morosely. Then he saw Goldstein.

  "Watch it Poul," warned Everson, "He has us cornered."

  "Now I'm beginning to understand," declared Weiss. "This greenhorn has made fools of us. It looks like we ought to take him apart for that." Poul Weiss was undaunted enough to start putting his words into action.

  "Stop!" shouted Everson. "Apparently you don't know what's going on, Poul. Goldstein wants us to hand the ship over to him and he has all kinds of plans for it. He will destroy us all if we don't work under his command."

  Weiss cursed violently and hurled himself forward. He was only separated from Goldstein by about three yards. Everson caught a fleeting shadowy glimpse of the pilot's seat flying past him. Weiss was almost on top of the mutant when the seat struck him frill in the chest. The sheer force of the blow sent him flying straight across the bridge. He lay on the deck, breathing laboriously. Goldstein's eyes seemed to be glowing.

  "He's wounded," said Everson bitterly as he went over to Weiss and bent down to look at him.

  "And so?" Goldstein's face froze into a mask of indifference. "He asked for it—you warned him."

  "Don't you have any feelings at all?" shouted Everson in a rage.

  "For apes? " Goldstein stood there and watched while the colonel lifted Weiss up and carefully set him down in a chair. Weiss was moaning faintly.

  "Goldstein," said Everson forcefully, "you'd better
come to your senses. Look—nobody's been killed yet. It's still not too late to turn back from what you're doing. The way you're going can only lead to destruction."

  Wherever you think you're going to hide, Rhodan's revenge will find you. You can't fool with us like this and think you're going to go unpunished."

  "Shut up!" snarled the mutant. "Who's talking about hiding? I don't have to hide from Rhodan. Can't I get that through your head, Everson? I am more powerful than Rhodan. Haven't I supplied you with enough proof of that? I'm not going to wait much longer. Ramirez will be the first to go—so think about it."

  Everson compressed his lips. He felt Weiss groping for his hand. "Do you have pain?" Everson asked him,

  "Listen to me!" whispered Weiss laboriously. "You can't give him the Fauna —no matter what happens. Goldstein must not reach the Earth."

  "What do you want me to do? Stand by and watch him kill us all?" asked Everson despairingly.

  Weiss clutched at his chest in pain. "He can't get anywhere without the ship," he groaned. "Don't you see? He has to have the guppy. Just keep him from getting it!"

  Everson shook him gently. "Show me a solution, Poul. How can I avoid seeing 14 men go to their deaths in front of my eyes?"

  "That's enough!" snapped Goldstein, cutting him off. He stood at his full height on the edge of the bridge. The fevered eyes dominating his haggard face took on a frightening aspect. His hair hung down wildly over his forehead. "You've talked enough!" he continued. "You'd better consider now how you're going to decide." He glanced up at Scoobey. "Or do you need his moral support?"

  "No," said Everson.

  Scoobey would take the same position as Weiss and would put pressure on him to refuse giving the little spaceship to Goldstein. The two of them were unaware of the terrible consequences. Everson realized that only one answer remained to him: he had no right to endanger the lives of other men with his decision. Once Goldstein released them from their paralysis there might still be a chance to render the mutant harmless.

  Everson was assailed by doubts. He had to keep in mind that Goldstein would be exceedingly cautious. Besides, it wasn't up to him to bring the mutant into line. The colonel was relying on Rhodan and his Mutant Corps. Even Goldstein couldn't stand up against a crack outfit like that. Everson knew for sure that he had seen a few samples of Goldstein's power—but not the full extent of it by any means.