The Best of AE van Vogt Part 2

Marenson could see how that might be. He had run up against opposition before, and for the most part it was a simple matter of legal procedure. This seemed now to be in the same category.

Clugy would have to act fast if he hoped to change the camp order before his s.h.i.+p departed forMira.

Marenson said: "Keep somebody watching him till he leaves."

He slept well, and he must have relaxed his vigilance. As he headed for his gyro on the roof after breakfast, he was only vaguely aware of the two men who came toward him.

"Mr. Marenson?" one asked.

Marenson looked up. They were well-dressed, young, strong looking. "Why, yes," he said, "What-"

A gas gun exploded in his face.

Marenson woke up mad. He could feel that fury tensing his body as he came slowly up out of the darkness. And just as he was about to become fully conscious, he recognized the anger for what it was.

The anger of fear.

He stayed where he was, eyes closed, body very still, forcing his breath into the slow, deep pattern of a sleeper. He was lying on something that felt like a canvas cot. It sagged in the middle, but it was reasonably comfortable.

A faint breeze blew against his cheek, and it brought a thick rancid odor to his nostrils. Jungle, he thought. Rotting vegetation intermingled with the tangy scent of innumerable growing things. The mustiness of the damp earth and some-thing else-an acridness in the air itself, an alien atmosphere that registered on human nostrils with an almost sulphurous sharpness.

He was in a jungle on a planet that was not Earth.

He remembered the two young men who had come out of the stairway entrance as he walked toward his gyro. Marenson groaned inwardly.Ga.s.sed, by heaven, he thought.Caught by a simple trick like that. But why? Was it personal-orYved?

Involuntarily, at that final possibility, Marenson cringed. The anger faded out of him completely, and only a cold fear remained. He lay then for a while simulating deep sleep. But slowly his spirit revived, and his mind began to work again. His thoughts became a.n.a.lytical. He remembered Clugy, but realized he couldn't be sure. As head of the procurement division for the s.h.i.+p, he had in his time offended many bold and dangerous individuals.

That was one aspect, one possibility.

The other one was that the Yevd enemy of man was using him in one of their intricate games to slow down the con-struction of the s.h.i.+p. If the Yevd were responsible, it would be complicated. The masters of light had devious minds, and took it for granted that any simple scheme would be quickly suspected.

Marenson began to breathe more easily. He was still alive, his hands were not tied; and the biggest question was: What would happen when he opened his eyes?

He opened them.

He was staring up through dense foliage at a reddish glowing sky. The sky looked hot, and that gave him a sudden awareness that he was perspiring furiously. And, oddly, now that he knew about it, the heat almost smothered him. He shrank from the flamelike intensity, then slowly climbed to his feet.

It was as if he had given a signal. From his right, beyond a line of bushes, he heard the sounds of a large camp suddenly coming to life.

For the first time, Marenson noticed that he was dressed in a light mesh unit that incased him from head to foot. Thematerialwas transparent, and even covered his boots. The clothing shocked him. For it was the kind of hunting outfit used on primitive planets that swarmed with hostile life of every description.

Which planet, and why? He began to think now with more conviction that his predicament was Clugy's doing, and that this was the famousMiraworld where the lymph beast lived.

He started off in the direction of the sounds.

The line of brush that had barred his view was, he dis-covered, about twenty feet thick, and the moment he was through it, he saw that it was not on the outskirts of the camp, but near the center. And now he noticed that the reddish sky was something of an illusion. It was part of a barrier that had been electronically raised around the camp. An energy screen. The red effect was merely the screen's method of reacting to the light of the particular sun that was s.h.i.+ning down upon it.

Marenson began to breathe easier. All around were men and machines-men by the hundreds. Even the most cunning group of Yevd wouldn't try to create so ma.s.sive an illusion. And, besides, their great skill in the use of light was personal to each individual, and not a ma.s.s phenomenon.

A clearing was being created out of a tangle of growth. There was so much movement it was hard to know what any individual was doing. Marenson's eye for such things was ten years out of practice, but in a few moments he had oriented himself. The plastic huts were going up to his left. Those at the right were merely waiting their turn to be moved into place. Clugy's office would be in the permanent part of the encampment.

Grimly, Marenson started towards the hut village. Twice "digger" machines harrumphed past him, sowing their insect poison, and he had to step gingerly over the loose earth; in its early stages the poison was as unfriendly to human beings as to anything else. The upturned soil glittered with long, black, s.h.i.+ny worms writhing feebly, with the famous redMira bugs that shocked their victims with electric currents, and with otherthings that he did not recognize. He reached the huts, walked on, and came presently to a sign which read:

PRODUCTION SUPERINTENDENT.

Ira Clugy

A youth of fifteen or sixteen lolled in an easy-chair behind the counter inside. He looked up with the lazy, insolent eyes of a clerk whose boss is absent. Then he turned his back.

Marenson went through the gate, and reached for the scruff of the kid's neck. There must have been a preliminary warning, for the neck twisted away, and like a cat the boy was on his feet. He came around with a snarl on his face.

Baffled and furious, Marenson retreated into words. "Where's Clugy?"

"I'll have you broken for this!" the boy snapped. "My father-"

Marenson cut him off. "Look, Mr. Big Shot, I'm Marenson from Administration. I'm not the kind that's broken. I break. You'd better start talking, and fast. Is Clugy your father?"

The boy stood stiff, then nodded.

"Where is he?"

"Out in the jungle."

"How long will he be gone?"

The boy hesitated. "Probably be in for lunch-sir."

"I see." Marenson pondered the information. He was surprised that Clugy had chosen to absent himself, and so leave Ancil Marenson temporarily in full control of the camp. But from his own point of view that was all to the good. Even as he made his plans, his mind reached to another thought. He asked: "When's the next s.h.i.+p due?"

"In twenty days."

Marenson nodded. It seemed to him that he was beginning to understand. Clugy had known he was due to leave on his vacation, and so he had decided to inconvenience him. Instead of pleasure on Paradise Planet, he'd spend his vacation on primitive and dangerousMira92. Having no other method of countering his order, Clugy was repaying him with personal discomfort.

Marenson's lips tightened. Then he said: "What's your name?"

"Peter."

"Well, Peter," said Marenson grimly, "I've got some work for you to do. So let's get busy."

For a while, then, it was a case of "Where's that, Peter?" And, "Peter, how about the stamp for this kind of docu-ment?" Altogether, in one hour he wrote out five orders. He a.s.signed himself a Model A hut. He authorized himself to make visiradio calls to Earth. He a.s.signed himself to Clugy's food unit. And he requisitioned two blasters, the use of a helicar and a pilot to operate it.

While Peter raced around delivering four of the orders to the proper departments, Marenson wrote out a news item for the editor of the camp newspaper. When that also was delivered, and Peter was back, Marenson felt better. What could be done on the scene was done. And since he'd have to remain for twenty days, the men in the camp might as well believe he was here on an inspection tour. The news-paper account would see to that.

Frowning, but partially satisfied, he started for the radio hut. His requisition was not questioned. He sat down and waited while the long and involved connection was put through.

Outside, men and machines were forcing a malignant stretch of jungle to be temporarily friendly to the hothouse needs of human flesh. Inside, surrounded by embanked instrument boards, Marenson pondered his next move. He had no evidence. His presence here against his will was not transparently the fault of Clugy. He had a lot of obscure back trails to investigate.

"Here's your connection," said the radio man at last. "Booth Three."

"Thank you."

Marenson talked first to his lawyer. "I want a court order," he said after he had described his situation, "authorizing the camp magistrate to question Clugy by means of a lie detec-tor, and authorizing complete amnesia afterwards. That's for my protection during the rest of the time I'll have to spend in the camp with him. Can do?"

"Can," said the lawyer, "by tomorrow."

Next, Marenson connected with Jerred, head of his protective staff. The detective's face lighted as he saw who it was. "Man," he demanded, "where have you been?"

His listened soberly to Marenson's account, then nodded. "The outrage has one favorable aspect," he said, "it puts us into a better legal position. Perhaps now we can find out who the woman was that called Clugy's room at eleven o'clock the night before you were kidnapped. Apparently, his son answered, and must have communicated the message to him.

"Woman?" said Marenson.

Jerred shrugged. "I don't know who it was. My agent didn't report to me till the following morning. He had no opportunity to listen in."

Marenson nodded, and said: "Try to see if there were any eyewitnesses to my kidnapping, then we'll get a court order and find out from Clugy and his son who the woman was."

"You can count on us to do everything possible," said the detective heartily.

"I expect results," said Marenson, and broke the connec-tion.

His next call was to his apartment. The visiplate did not brighten, and after the proper length of time, a recorder sighed at him: "Mr. and Mrs. Marenson have gone to Paradise Planet until August 26th. Do you wish to leave a message?"

Marenson hung up, shaken, and went quietly out of the hut.

The fear that had come faded before his determination not to be alarmed. There must be a rational explanation for Janet's departure. He couldn't quite see how the Yevd could be involved.

He was annoyed that his mind had leaped instantly to that possibility.

A minute later, wearily, he unlocked the door of the hut. Inside, he removed his boots and sprawled on the bed. But he was too restless to relax. After less than five minutes, he got up with the intention of going to Clugy's office, and waiting there for the man to return. He had a lot of hard things to say to Ira Clugy.

Outside, he stopped short. Climbing up to his hut, he hadn't realized what a vantage point he had. The hill reared up a hundred feet above the jungle and the main part of the camp. It gave him an unsurpa.s.sed view of a green splendor, of the endless, s.h.i.+ning forest. Clugy had chosen his camp site well. Lacking the higher mountains hundreds of miles to the south, he had nevertheless found in the hilly jungle country a sizeable semimountain that sloped gradually up until it was about eight hundred feet above the main jungle. The hill where Marenson stood was the final peak of the long, jungle-robed slope.

Marenson saw the glint of rivers, the sparkling color of strange trees; and, as he looked, something of his old feeling for this universe of planets beyond Earth stirred within him. He glanced up at the famous and wonderfulMirasun, and the thrill that came ended only when he thought of his situation and his purpose.

Grimly, he started down the hill.

Both Clugy and his son were in the office when Marenson entered it a few minutes later. The s.p.a.ceman stood up. He seemed curious rather than friendly. "Peter was telling me about you being here," he said.

"So you thought you'd come and look the territory over personally, eh?"

Marenson ignored the comment. Coldly, he made his accusation. He finished, "You may think you're going to get away with this trick, but I a.s.sure you that you aren't."

Clugy gazed at him in astonishment. "What's all this nonsense?" the s.p.a.ceman demanded.

"Do you deny you had me kidnapped?"

"Why, certainly, I deny it." Clugy was indignant. "I wouldn't pull a fool stunt like that in these days of author-ized lie detector tests. Besides, I don't work that way."

He sounded so sincere that for a moment Marenson was taken aback. He recovered swiftly. "If you're so positive," he said, "how about coming down right now to the camp magistrate's office, and taking an immediate test."

Clugy frowned at him. He seemed puzzled. "I'll do just that," he said. He spoke quietly. "And you'd better be pre-pared to take such a test yourself. There's something funny about this whole business."

"Come along!" Marenson said.

Clugy paused at the door. "Peter, keep an eye on the office till I get back."

"Sure, Pop."

The man's swift acceptance of the challenge was in itself convincing, Marenson thought as he walked along at Clugy's side. It seemed to prove that he actually had accepted the ruling of his union. His part in this affair must have ended the very night of their argument.

But then, who had seized on the situation? Who was try-ing to take advantage of the quarrel? Yevd?

There was no indication of it. But then who?

The two tests required slightly less than an hour and a half. And Clugy was telling the truth. And Marenson was telling the truth. Convinced, the two men gazed at each other in baffled amazement. It was Marenson who broke the silence.

"What about the woman who called up your son the night before you left Earth?"

"What woman?"

Marenson groaned. "You mean to tell me you don't know anything about that either?" He broke off with a frown. "Just a minute," he said, "how come Peter didn't tell you?"

His mind leaped to a fantastic possibility. He said in a hushed voice: "I think we'd better surround your hut."

But the superintendent's office, when they finally closed in on it, was empty. Nor was Peter discoverable at any of his usual haunts.

"Obviously," said Clugy, his face the color of lead, "when he heard me agree to a lie detector test, he realized the game was up."

"We've got to trace this whole thing back," Marenson said slowly. "Somewhere along the line a Yevd was subst.i.tuted for your son. He came with you to Solar City, and took no chances on being caught by one of the several traps we have around The Yards to catch Yevd spies. I mean by that, he stayed in his room, and apparently communicated with other Yevd agents by visiradio. That woman who called the Yevd who was impersonating your son was probably another Yevd, and there's still another one of them im-personating me-"

He stopped. Because that other one was with Janet. Marenson started hastily for the radio hut. I'vegot to contact Earth," he called over his shoulder to Clugy.