The beyond, p.18
The Beyond, page 18
"The freak's moving!" Jonman's terrified exclamation jerked Selby back to reality. He swung his head toward Johnny and saw him shaking his head, as if coming from a sound sleep.
"We'll make him talk," Wig snarled.
"Kill him," Jonman screamed.
Selby stepped forward and said grimly, "If you want to live, you'd better return to the ship."
"No," Wig croaked hoarsely. He raised his weapon. "Take another step and you're dead."
Selby said steadily, "You wanted a beyond and now you've got one."
"A freak," Jonman shouted wildly.
"A freak who'll kill you if you try to harm him," Selby threatened.
"Lieutenant Stagg. hurry!" He shouted the command telepathically without moving his eyes from the executor.
Wig took a step backward. "You're as bad as he is," he snarled.
"Perhaps."
"You're going to die, Selby."
"I won't be alone."
"No?"
"Try it and you're dead," Selby answered. "Get out while you can."
Wig lifted his mike. "Daxon?"
"Coming... Stagg's men are with us."
"Stagg!" Wig's face contorted furiously. "Who ordered him to come. Order him back."
"Keep coming, Stagg," Selby shouted in his mind.
"Stagg?" Wig's voice rose peremptorily. "Go back and try to locate Olaf's ship immediately."
"Don't do it! Don't do it!" Selby concentrated frantically, trying to override the executor's orders.
"Watch out for the freak!" Jonman screamed. Selby whirled and saw that Johnny had risen and was gazing at them.
Wig took a quick step toward the boy. "Where did those people go?" he demanded roughly.
"Which ones?" Johnny lifted his eyes questioningly.
"My men," rasped Wig. "Speak up."
"There," answered Johnny, "they went there." He pointed upward at the orange moon.
Wig smiled dangerously. "You expect me to believe that?"
"But that's where I was told to send them."
"Told?" Wig's head bobbed up. "Who told you?"
Johnny cast a quick glance at Selby and answered, "I don't know, Mr.
Wig. The thought just came to my mind."
"You're lying."
"I'm not, Mr. Wig."
"I suppose that's where you sent those other people?" Wig shot back sarcastically.
"No," Johnny said, "I sent them there." He pointed toward the Magellanic Clouds.
"I'll get the truth soon enough," Wig gritted.
Page 93
"Mr. Selby, can you hear me?" Selby concealed his surprise as the boy's question came into his mind. Without waiting for an answer, Johnny rushed on, "He's decided to keep Mr. Daxon away and have Mr. Jon man kill everyone but me. He's going to take me away."
"Teleport, Johnny, teleport."
"I can't, Mr. Selby."
"You can, you did."
"No, you did that."
Selby saw the executor's hand move and stiffened. Wig lifted his wrist mike. "Daxon?"
"Almost there, sir."
"Stop right where you are."
"Stop?"
"Wait until you hear from me."
"Yes, sir. How about Lieutenant Stagg?"
"Tell him to wait right where he is. That's an order."
"Yes, sir."
"Johnny!" Selby shouted the name in his mind. "Get ready to run when I rush them."
"It would be easier to get into his mind, Mr. Selby."
"Try to make him return to the ship?"
"You could shut off his senses, Mr. Selby. You're very powerful."
"Shut off his senses?"
"So he can't see or hear for a while."
"How? How can I do that?" Selby felt impatient at his helplessness, at the same time filled with the knowledge that the executor had decided on a definite course.
"You can get into that part of the mind that controls his body."
"Don't guess, Johnny." There was no time for guessing, yet he had to do something, and fast.
"Mr. Simon said it could be done."
"Simon?" he asked, startled.
"When he was here. He thought I could do it."
Selby asked urgently, "Did you ever try?"
"I wasn't a strong enough transmitter, Mr. Selby."
"And I am?" He wanted to laugh harshly.
"Try, Mr. Selby."
"Jonman!" Wig's voice broke Selby's thoughts and he switched his attention to the executor.
"What is it?" Jonman asked worriedly.
"Wait! Wait!" Selby shouted in his mind. "Wait, Wig." The executor started to speak, then paused, cocking his head curiously. "If you give Jonman an order to kill us, you die," he cried silently.
A puzzled look crossed the executor's face.
"What is it?" Jonman repeated.
"Quiet," Wig hissed, listening.
Selby felt a surge of power, realizing he'd gotten through to him. But blinding and deafening Wig wouldn't be enough. He had to dispose of him, get to Jonman. "Wig, listen, you're dying, you're dying. You can't breathe."
"Jonman!" Wig gasped the name.
"What is it?" The agent hefted his weapon, glancing toward the boy nervously.
"You can't breathe, can't breathe." Selby concentrated on Wig's face, striving to reach the mind behind it. "You're dying, Wig. You can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe..."
"Jonman!" Wig gasped the name again, throwing up his head and gulping at the sky.
Page 94
"It's that freak!" the agent yelled. "I'll kill him."
"Get Daxon!" The executor forced the words.
"You can't breathe, Wig!" The executor's face loomed in Selby's mind, growing larger until it became a single gigantic eye. He felt a burst of unprecedented power and sped through it, along the optic nerve to the greasy coils and crevices of his brain. "You can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe..."
"Jonman!" The executor uttered the name with a strangled scream. "Kill!
Kill!"
Selby tried to intervene and found to his horror he couldn't. His mind, locked to Wig's, left his body powerless. He saw Wig gasp and fall to his knees, clutching at his chest. "Die, die, die," he screamed silently,
struggling to pull his mind free.
As if in a dream he heard the blast of gunfire while he fought to regain control of his senses. As the reverberations died away he heard a snarling growl and a black shape rushed past him. For one dreadful second he thought the groat had returned, then heard Jonman scream, scream horribly.
Swaying, he opened his eyes, fighting to bring them into focus. His first impression was that of the big shaggy dog tearing at Jonman's throat.
Then he remembered the gunfire and whirled, seeing Vogel bent over the boy.
The psymaster looked up at him, his face sorrowful. "He's dying," he said.
"Dying? No!" The denial leaped from Selby's lips, the shock of the words pulling him back to the grim reality of the scene. He saw the executor writhing on the ground, strangling sobs coming from his throat.
"Johnny! Johnny!" He called the name telepathically, desperately trying to reach the boy. "Can you hear me, Johnny? Can you hear me?"
"It's...it's all right, Mr. Selby."
Selby swayed groggily, his mind frantically trying to piece together the secret he had so vaguely discerned before -- how David had become Johnny.
David, Johnny, David, Johnny, David, Johnny...The names reeled through his mind like a weird kaleidoscope in sound. Then he had it.
He looked at Wig's contorted figure. "You're dying, dying, dying. Do you hear me, Wig? You're dying."
"He's going fast," Vogel said, unaware of the tumult in Selby's mind. He reached down, stroking the boy's face gently.
"Johnny!" Selby knelt by his side. "Johnny, listen. Wig's dying. Don't let him die. Don't let him die. Keep him alive, like you kept Johnny alive when you were David. Johnny, do you hear me?
Keep Wig alive. Make him live."
Selby felt the blackness come and reeled, fighting to keep conscious.
"Johnny, make Wig live." He murmured the words with his mind, then aloud, slumping forward as all awareness ceased.
Dimly he felt someone shaking his shoulder.
Wig, Johnny...The names crossed his mind as he seemed struggling through an endless night. The shaking became stronger and he tried to answer.
"Alek!" His name penetrated his consciousness and he opened his eyes, aware of an indistinct figure crouched over him. "Alek!" The name came again.
Hallam, he thought. Hallam Vogel. Johnny! Oh God! The stark memory rushed back and he fought to sit erect.
"Take it easy," Vogel murmured.
"Johnny?" He shook his head, staring wildly around.
Page 95
"Johnny's dead," Vogel answered sadly.
"Dead?"
"Jonman shot him."
"Jonman, I remember."
"The dog tore out his throat," the psymaster said savagely.
"Wig? What about Wig?"
"Dead." Vogel got a strange look.
"Dead? No! No!" He screamed the denial, twisting around, staring toward the executor. At first he saw only the shaggy dog. "Hallam, look!" He pointed, afraid to trust his eyes.
Vogel whirled and they both stared.
The big shaggy dog, whimpering, was licking the executor's face.
"So that's about it," Hallam Vogel said, gazing across the room at Director Smithson. "David Gant was a beyond -- probably as powerful as any imaginable. When he and Johnny were dying of fever -- that was in the season of orange heat -- he got into Johnny's mind, trying to keep him alive."
"A selfless act," the director murmured.
"Extremely so." Vogel nodded. "Then when Johnny died -- or his soul left his body, if that's what death is -- David was left trapped."
"In Johnny's body?"
"As I see it," Vogel assented. "His own body died while his mind was in Johnny's body. But the thing that was Johnny -- let's call it his soul -- had fled, so David remained where he was."
"And became Johnny, eh?" The director gazed across the room during a long moment of silence. "That's immortality," he observed finally.
"Yes, it's immortality."
"So when Johnny and Wig were dying..."
"The same thing happened," the psymaster interposed. "Only this time Alek urged Johnny -- I suppose I should call him Johnny -- to save Wig."
The director smiled faintly. "Not that he didn't know what he was doing."
"He knew all right." Vogel nodded briskly. "He'd already figured out how David had become Johnny. Getting Johnny to inhabit Wig's body was a logical step."
"After he caused Wig's death, eh?"
"Caused it?" Vogel weighed the assertion. "In a sense you might say that, but he was acting in self-defense, and trying to save Johnny."
"Alek...a beyond," the director murmured.
Vogel eyed the director, surprised again at the man's capacity for understanding; and capacity for believing the unbelievable, he thought.
He said, "I'm really not surprised. He showed definite telepathic traits during his therapy."
"But a beyond?" The director raised his eyes.
Vogel hesitated. "He had a secret locked deep, so deep I could scarcely touch it -- something to do with clairvoyance."
"So that's why you were so insistent he go to Engo, eh?"
"I'll have to admit it," Vogel returned blandly.
Smithson leaned forward. "Did anyone suspect you were Olaf?"
"The 404 men?" Vogel leaned back thoughtfully. "When Daxon and Lieutenant Stagg arrived, I took charge as senior member of your department. I stated merely that Wig had mistaken my arrival for that of Olaf. And of course, when Wig revived, he confirmed it."
Smithson smiled faintly. "Do you think they really believed that, Hallam?"
Page 96
"The 404 men, yes. They really didn't get in on the action." Vogel rubbed his chin reflectively.
"Lieutenant Stagg knew something was awry, but
I'm positive he's trustworthy."
"It's been quite a story," the director said. He leaned back comfortably and gazed toward the ceiling. "I'm going to miss Alek."
"Johnny sent him to Zamar at his own request. It's best, Korl."
"The girl, eh? Yes, I suppose so." A bell tinkled melodiously and the director flipped a switch on his desk intercom. He listened briefly, then said, "Send him in."
Vogel looked up as the figure of the executor entered, accompanied by a shaggy yellow dog.
Smithson said, "Getting used to your new quarters, Philip?" He gestured toward a chair and leaned back.
"Yes, sir."
Vogel saw that the executor's formerly saturnine countenance had been replaced by a strangely boyish look. He mentioned it. "Don't smile so easily, not for a while," he cautioned.
"Perhaps I should have remained on Engo," the new Wig said.
"No, Johnny..."
"Philip," the director reprimanded.
"Philip," Vogel corrected. "You've got a more important job cut out for you here."
"If I can do it." The answer was almost humble.
"You can do it," the director assured him. "As executor, you'll have all the power you need, and with your -- ah! -- special talent, you'll be able to locate others like yourself. That's important."
"Is the Federation ready?" the younger man asked.
"No, not yet, but it's important that we find people who can keep our contact with Zamar alive,"
the director answered. "That will be your job, Philip. Search the entire Third Sector, and if you don't find anyone, search the entire Federation."
"The Federation?" Vogel raised his eyes questioningly.
The director smiled. "I'm certain Ewol Strang would prevail on the Imperator to give Philip full power when he learns there are beyonds loose in the Federation.
Especially when Philip tells him himself."
"With a scowl," Vogel cautioned. He chuckled. "I believe you're right."
"Ewol Strang has great faith in Philip Wig," the director said.
When the others had withdrawn, the director went to the window and gazed out. The yellow-white sun of Altair had set, leaving the stately buildings of Mekla bathed in their man-made lights. He'd always known Hallam was Mr. Olaf, of course. The psymaster's humble confession had come as no surprise. But then Hallam had felt reasonably certain of his own response. He'd never made any secret of his sympathy for the telepaths, at least where Hallam was concerned.
He mused on it, smilingly.
And he'd always had an inkling about Alek, too. Hallam didn't know that, of course. Couldn't have known. But Alek's work had been too good, his answers too surprisingly accurate on too many occasions for him not to have been telepathic. But a beyond? The galaxy was filled with surprises, he reflected.
Perhaps if it hadn't been for the Engo affair, Alek might never have realized his full potential. He wondered about that.
Returning to his chair, he slumped back. Hallam Vogel was a man of vision, he thought. He realized that the day of the telepath was coming; and when it did, the Federation would be all the better for it.
But did Hallam know how close that day was? Did he realize the real inroads made by telepaths
-- and, yes, beyonds -- in Federation affairs?
Page 97
Probably not, but he would soon enough; Hallam wasn't a man you could fool for long.
As for himself? He was seventy-eight, he reflected, and he hadn't many years left. But perhaps he would live long enough to see the fulfillment of his dream -- the day when all men would be equal.
Glancing at his security system to make certain he was alone, he placed his private papers in his safe and locked it. Another step along the road, he thought.
Then he teleported to the privacy of his home.
The Authors
JEAN AND JEFF SUTTON are a man-and-wife writing team who make their home in San Diego, California. Although this is the first Putnam novel on which they have collaborated, Jefferson Sutton is the author of Apollo at Go and
Beyond Apollo, both science fiction. Mr. Sutton has also written many nonfiction books.
Page 98
Jeff Sutton, The Beyond
