Zenya by E. C. Tubb

Author:E. C. Tubb
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DAW
Published: 1974-05-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

There was time for thought on the journey. Sitting, hunched in the body of the raft, Dumarest thought of Aihult Chan Parect and his madness. His deviousness and his threat. All were real enough, and he had been even more cunning than suspected. Dumarest had imagined that a radio beacon had been implanted while he had lain helpless beneath the ministrations of his doctor. A device, booby-trapped, maybe, but a thing which could be safely removed with care and skill. Yet it seemed that the obvious had not been employed. A bluff? It was barely possible, but Dumarest doubted it. Chan Parect had been more clever than he had guessed.

"Sir?" Fran Paran was at his side, earphones on his head, a communicator in his hand. "A recording of the initial message, sir. Do you want to hear it?"

The voice was strained, incredulous.

"Monsters! Things all around. Killing, screaming, everywhere. Help. Send help. This is Verital calling. Verital. For God's sake, come quickly! It's horrible! Ghastly! We haven't got a chance. Hurry! Hurry! Devils from hell, spawn of the underworld, help! Help!"

The rest was distortion, a mouthing of frenzied words, screams, the sound of smashing timbers.

Dumarest played it again, a third time, learning nothing new. A man, almost incoherent, pleading for help from the city, raving about monsters and things of nightmare.

To the lieutenant he said, "Contact the city. Find out if there is anything new."

In the earphones Colonel Paran's voice sounded as if he were speaking through layers of cotton. "Nothing since the message, Earl. I've ordered two units to rendezvous with you at map reference 0136-2784. That's a mile from the southern edge of the village."

"Is there anything closer?"

"A detachment was based twenty miles to the west. We can't establish contact." The voice hardened a little. "Natural enough if the devils attacked them first."

"Not natural," said Dumarest. "They should have been alert. Guards would have given the alarm. Have you a raft in the vicinity?"

"Yes."

"I assume it has flares. They must remain aloft, drop flares, and see what they can. If the detachment appears to have been attacked, they must wait until daylight before landing. If not, let them land, take as many men aboard as they can, and throw a line directly north of the village—about ten miles north." In the glow of a light, Dumarest studied a map. "That is in a direct line to the hills."

"You hope to catch who did it?"

"If possible, yes."

"Should I send in more men? Withdraw detachments from the villages?"

"No. The damage has been done now. There's no point in leaving other villages undefended. Just send out a general red alert to all forces and have them keep a man on constant radio watch. I want a running commentary, and if anything should happen, let me know at once."

"I hope you get them," said Paran. "By God, I really hope that. Susal was born in Verital."

And perhaps his son would die there. Time alone would tell.

Lights marked the rendezvous, bright points drifting against the fading stars, rimming the outlines of the rafts which waited high in the sky.

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