Mute (46 page)

But the rocketeer was not a fool. He soon realized that Knot was playing with him. “Turn that craft about, or I will fire on you,” he said, exasperated.

Bluff?
Knot asked Hermine.

Yes—now. But he will fire soon, if he needs to. He is a normal, an honest civil defense pilot, with sense and courage.

I would have to draw one of that kind!
Knot complained.
Why can’t honest, competent men stay where they belong, in some ghetto?

There are leaks in the screening process, Mit says. Some good men get through.

The irony was, Mit was serious.

Knot played out his string as far as it would go, all the while progressing obliquely toward his target. When the rocket could no longer be put off, Knot dropped down below the top of the cliff and flew with his left wing tip almost touching. Birds flew up angrily, squawking. Now he was absolutely dependent on Mit’s guidance, for without the crab’s precognition he could not have avoided contact with the cliff.

“Get away from there!” the rocket pilot cried. “You’ll crash, and ruin a good plane!”

But Knot stayed where he was. Angry, the rocket oriented behind him, to fire—and Knot dropped suddenly lower, almost scraping the thin beach.

“You’re absolutely crazy!” the rocket cried. But he came down to orient on Knot’s plane again. The rocket craft was not only faster, it was more maneuverable, and had a more experienced pilot; Knot could surprise the man but not actually lose him by such maneuvers.

We must cut across to the villa,
Hermine announced.

“All right, you win,” Knot radioed. “I’ll lift up and head back. He started climbing, and the rocket paced him without firing.

By the time Knot cleared the cliff, he was beyond his turnoff place, so could afford to cut back. Thus he made some progress toward his destination without the rocket catching on. But soon he would be retreating from the volcano and villa. Abruptly he swerved again, going directly toward the villa.

This time the rocketeer did not play games. It was hard to keep fooling an honest man! The craft looped around, oriented, and fired.

But Mit anticipated the shot, and knew where not to be, when.
Veer sharp left and down—NOW!
Knot did so, and the laser beam missed, above and to the right.

Slow, lift,
Hermine directed, relaying Mit’s instructions. And the second beam missed, ahead.

The rocket pilot began to get angry, not understanding that he was up against psi. But he was determined, and his marksmanship was excellent; they knew it was only a matter of brief time before he scored.

Lake ahead, close to crater,
Hermine advised.
Crash-land in water.

Knot slanted the plane down. The lake came into sight, and he shot into it, bouncing on the surface several times before halting and starting to sink.

The rocket zoomed overhead, but the pilot was too canny to try to land similarly
.
His craft needed a regular field, or it would not be able to take off again. In fact, it might require a rocket launcher. Also, the rocket consumed a great deal more fuel; it must be getting low. The craft looped about and departed.

He is summoning land reinforcements to this spot,
Hermine thought.
They will not take long to converge.

But now the volcano was in sight, perhaps an hour’s walk away.

Probably not enough time, but the effort had to be made. Knot and the gross one extricated themselves from the slowly settling plane, splashed to shore, and hurried toward the villa. With luck, the troops would orient first on the airplane, then not be able to locate the fugitives before the hour was up.

That luck did not materialize. A truck ferried a dozen armed men to Knot’s vicinity in half an hour, following his trail with a heat-sensing device so that there was no hesitation. Several more men parachuted down between Knot and the volcano. It seemed this was a sensitive area.

Right at this inopportune time, Finesse commenced another transmission. They were close now, almost within Hermine’s sending range to a person she knew really well, and the reception was very strong.

The child, Klisty, was in a pit in the central arena. She was in darkness, but infrared light bathed her and made the complete scene visible to Piebald and Finesse.

“Now the child has fair psi talent,” Piebald said. “She can dowse for conductors, most notably water and precious metals. It is not strictly an electrical phenomenon, however, for pure water does not conduct electricity; it is the impurities that convert it to a conductor. Yet the child can locate pure water. I certainly hope we shall have the opportunity to define her talent further. But first there is a certain matter we must undertake.”

He touched a button. “Klisty—do you hear me?” he called.

The little girl whirled around, her pigtails flying. “Where are you, Mister Piebald?” she cried, the tinge of hysteria in her voice. “Why am I in this awful cold dark?”

“It is cold because this is the snake pit,” Piebald answered. “Reptiles do not function well when cold, so these are torpid. Rattlers, corals, cottonmouths, cobras, even a huge python—scattered about the premises. They will be aware of you, my dear, but I fear you are not aware of them, since they are no more conductive than the floor. When it warms, it will become rather awkward in there. I advise you to be careful where you step.”

The girl looked down, but obviously could not see any thing. Her legs and feet were bare. There were no snakes in her immediate vicinity, but she was not aware of that. She looked frightened.

Suddenly there was a blast of hot air that stirred Klisty’s hair and dress. “Oh, my,” Piebald said. “It seems someone has turned on the heat. Those reptiles will shortly become active, and they may not be in an ideal mood, especially since the floor is tilting, sliding them about.” And slowly the floor shifted, causing the child to start and catch her balance. “I fear if I were shaken that way, I would strike at anything I encountered. However, I am not a snake.”

“You’re quite sure of that?” Finesse inquired softly.

“But
why
?” Klisty cried.

Piebald cut off the intercommunication circuit. “She does not understand. But you do, Finesse. One little throb of your psi can do wonders for the welfare of that child, I’m sure. I hope you do it before she steps on a snake in the dark, for it will instinctively bite her. Unless, of course, your psi can nullify venom! In that case it can certainly wait.”

“You monster!” Finesse said. She was beyond screams or tears; she knew they accomplished nothing with this man.

“Were I in your place,” the lobo said calmly, “I believe I would concentrate less on invective and more on psi. But it is of course your prerogative.”

“What does your wife say, when you come home after another hard day’s labor at the torture chamber?”

“Do you really wish to discuss this instead of taking positive action to help the child? As you wish. My wife is a gentle woman, a lobo too, who has no idea of the nature of my business. She resides with other female lobos in a villa elsewhere on this planet, beside a pleasant lake. I fear there would be severe repercussions if she learned the nature of this center.”

“Freeze in place,” a man’s voice ordered.

Knot froze, confused. A normal had a laser rifle trained on him. This was the foothill to the volcano, not the villa inside. The sending had been interrupted by a current event.

Mit says he looked and looked, but there was no way to sneak through,
Hermine thought apologetically.
They have captured us. But in half an hour there will be an opening.

What’s Finesse doing?
Knot thought curtly.

The sending resumed. The little girl staggered as the floor reversed its tilt. Her foot came down on a snake. She screamed—but the snake was still torpid, and did not strike. The hot blast of air continued.

I can’t wait half an hour,
Knot thought.

If you act now, we could free the gross one, Mit says. But we cannot free you or help Finesse.

Then I will act alone!
Knot rasped mentally. He spat the diamond into his palm as the troops closed in. He squeezed the gross one’s arm.

I MUST TRY TO ENTER THE VILLA. I WILL SURELY FAIL, BUT I AM COMPELLED TO MAKE THE ATTEMPT. HERE IS STRELLA’S DIAMOND. TAKE IT TO HER FRIEND, AND DELIVER YOUR MESSAGE TO YOUR BROTHER. MAYBE THE DISTRACTION I PROVIDE WILL SPRING YOU FREE. MY ANIMAL FRIENDS WILL HELP YOU. OPEN YOUR MIND TO THE WEASEL, AND TRUST WHAT SHE THINKS TO YOU. SHE IS MORE VALUABLE THAN ANY OTHER FRIEND YOU COULD HAVE. And to Hermine:
Jump to the gross one, you and Mit. Help him escape. Help him do these things. You can locate the friend and the brother, and guide the gross one away from harm.

They jumped.
You are suicidally brave and foolish,
Hermine thought in passing.
Almost like a weasel.

Thanks.

Except for being influenced by looking up a leg.

Go!
Knot sprang at the nearest trooper, using his trained combat technique to wrest the laser rifle from the man’s grasp. Simultaneously, the gross one exploded into action. Troopers were hurled away from him as he whirled and charged toward the truck.

The troopers had expected action from Knot, not the blind max-mute. They concentrated on Knot. Two laser beams speared out, striking him in thigh and side. Agony exploded. Knot tried to continue fighting, but already someone was heaving a stun-bomb at him. It puffed into vapor under his nose, and suddenly he was in a kind of stasis.

But Hermine was still in touch. She continued relaying Finesse’s sending.

“News has just reached me,” Piebald said, “that a min-mute has been apprehended half a kilometer from these premises. I presume that is your anonymous assistant, the one we chased into the chasm enclave,” He looked at her face, watching for some reaction. She gave none. “He must have more psi than anonymity, to accomplish the escapes he did. I should think clairvoyance and telepathy are the least that would be required. I know of no case in which a single individual possessed three discrete psi-powers—but of course I do not have the Coordination Computer’s resources. If such a person was your assistant, what would your own psi be?”

Still Finesse made no response.

“I must admit that man has made a valiant effort to reach you, performing the amazing feat of escaping from the enclave. That had not been accomplished in twenty years, and we sealed off the avenue used then. But as it happens, we were ready for him. You will be glad to know that he will be the next subject for our program of evocation. Perhaps for him you will do what you seem unwilling to do for the child.”

Something snapped in Finesse. It was as though a long-blocked conduit had been reamed out, and gas was rushing through at last. She looked at the snake pit—and suddenly the reviving reptiles hissed and recoiled, giving Klisty the widest possible berth. It was as though they had suddenly developed a terrible fear of her.

Knot remembered again how the fighting cocks of Chicken Itza had abruptly become afraid of blood. Could this be—?

“Marvelous!” Piebald breathed. “I believe that was indeed the key. It has manifested at last! CC must have programmed you to evoke it only when your friend was in direct peril that you could thus abate. He must be more than an assistant, for with the powers he evidently possesses he could have escaped the planet with news of our program. Instead he sought you out—and you evidently return his interest. What an excellent team the two of you make, he with his powers of escape and anonymity, you with—”

Finesse turned her gaze on him, but Piebald was unperturbed. “You are fastened in your chair, my dear, and I am as I said no reptile. You can neither free yourself nor instill fear in me.”

She concentrated—and suddenly he danced away from her. “Oh my lord!” he cried. “You
can
! Suddenly I am deathly afraid of you! What a rare psi talent that is, fully worth the effort I have made to evoke it!” His fear was tempered by his delight at his success, much as a breeder of a unique species of deadly viper might be when attacked by his hatchling.

And Knot thought: Piebald had been right. Finesse was no normal, but a potent psi-mute. CC had made a team of them, together with the animals. His anonymity and her subtle attack capacity—both aspects of mind-affecting psi—complemented by the informational capacity of the two animals. A potent, well rounded, well-concealed unit of investigation.

Yet he had asked Mit whether Finesse could in fact be a psi-mute, and Mit had denied it. How could the little crab have been mistaken? Or had Hermine lied?

CC put a geis on him,
Hermine thought.
Mit could not reveal Finesse’s condition. Even I did not know. I never lied to you, angry man. I thought she was normal too.

Knot had to accept that. It was the way CC worked, and this was part of the information the machine had concealed from him. Knot was indeed angry—but he also appreciated the infernal cleverness and misdirection of the computer.

This team had done the job, discovering the nature of the threat to CC. But the fiendishly clever and ruthless lobo, a proper match for CC, had nullified them by using their own unity against them. Knot could and should have left the planet with his information; Finesse herself had urged that course on him, via her sendings to Hermine. But the same emotional attachment that unified the team had drawn him inexorably to Finesse even when the situation had changed, and finally made him captive to the lobos. CC had not realized that Knot would learn the truth about the lobos while separate from Finesse.

Yet how had the lobos been so apt at countering him? Piebald, by his own admission, had not known Knot was escaping the enclave chasm, and he still did not know about Hermine and Mit. Was it mere luck—or was something else involved? This tied in with the unity and precision and discipline the lobos showed generally; they always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, as though governed by a sophisticated electronic network—which they did not use—or psi, which they did not have.