grown without my noticing. I have more talents than I ever realized. I was able to work on your minds like a locksmith picking locks, locating and releasing all the implanted orders.” She gave a little crazy giggle. “And when you see how it’s done, it’s so simple!”
Spartak’s whole body had gone cold as ice. He waited numbly for her to make the point which he foresaw with terror.
“Asconel. That’s where you want to go. But I don’t think I like the idea much. It’s an Imperial world—or was. So they don’t tolerate my kind of people. Also it’s going to be a place of fighting. I can see that in your mind, Vix. You want to go there and fight against these priests and this man called Bucyon, and because you’re so frightened of having your mind probed you’ll probably be glad if something bad happens to me. Spartak perhaps not—I don’t know. But even he…”
She hesitated. Then she giggled again. “Well, I’ve found out about conditioning now. I see how it’s done. I think I can probably make you do what I want. There’s only one question that remains: it’s such a big galaxy, so where shall I make you take me?”
She looked around, her petrified audience with mocking eyes. “Go on!” she urged. “Think of the other places I might like to be taken—anywhere but Asconel or back where I came from—and then I’ll get you to pilot the ship there!”
XIII
H ORROR-STRUCK visions raced through Spartak’s mind in three successive and distinct stages.
First, there was the appallingly vivid picture of them all condemned to serve the whim of this mentally unstable girl, slaves bound with unseen chains, compelled to take her on a colossal joyride around the wheel of stars which was the galaxy.
Second, there came a flood of memories of Asconel: its seas, its mountains, its forests and open plains, every recollection painful with yearning. He had resigned himself long ago, that day on the royal island of Gard, to a life of exile, but since Vix came to find him he had without realizing conceived an ache and a desire to go home, that now permeated every fibre of his being. The agony of deprivation was almost physical in its intensity, like hunger or—more nearly—like sex.
And third, as he began to bring his whirling thoughts under control, followed the shadow of a question. Could even Eunora, who had certainly released them from the Imperial conditioning, reverse the process with her supernatural talent, imposing fresh commands in place of those she had wiped out?
Could
she? Surely a mere child would find the range and sweep of adult minds—male minds, moreover—beyond her abilities to master.
Or maybe not. Here there were so many unknown factors, he was almost afraid to believe he dared hope.
But no one said anything. He and his half-brothers simply stared at Eunora, as though her tiny face and body held an infinite fascination for them. Bit by bit, the waiting grew to be a strain on her, and the expression of mocking triumph she wore gave place to a look of uncertainty.
At last she burst out, “Do as I tell you! Do as I tell you!” But the words were tinged with hysteria.
Behind her shoulder, Spartak saw Vineta move. She came forward into the middle of the control room floor, and spoke unexpectedly in a level voice.
“I want to go to Asconel. Because that’s where Vix wants to go.”
“Shut up!” Eunora rounded on her, the skin around her eyes crinkling up as though she were about to cry.
Murmurs of astonishment came from Vix and Tiorin. Spartak was not less surprised than they at Vineta’s intervention, but he was perhaps better equipped to see how it was possible than they were. He forced his thinking along the most promising line, remembering that Eunora was exposed to all of them at once.
Deliberately he fanned the coals of his resentment into flame, visualizing her as she had been when she was brought to the ship—corpse-stiff, kept alive only by machines, and suffering
Spartak’s whole body had gone cold as ice. He waited numbly for her to make the point which he foresaw with terror.
“Asconel. That’s where you want to go. But I don’t think I like the idea much. It’s an Imperial world—or was. So they don’t tolerate my kind of people. Also it’s going to be a place of fighting. I can see that in your mind, Vix. You want to go there and fight against these priests and this man called Bucyon, and because you’re so frightened of having your mind probed you’ll probably be glad if something bad happens to me. Spartak perhaps not—I don’t know. But even he…”
She hesitated. Then she giggled again. “Well, I’ve found out about conditioning now. I see how it’s done. I think I can probably make you do what I want. There’s only one question that remains: it’s such a big galaxy, so where shall I make you take me?”
She looked around, her petrified audience with mocking eyes. “Go on!” she urged. “Think of the other places I might like to be taken—anywhere but Asconel or back where I came from—and then I’ll get you to pilot the ship there!”
XIII
H ORROR-STRUCK visions raced through Spartak’s mind in three successive and distinct stages.
First, there was the appallingly vivid picture of them all condemned to serve the whim of this mentally unstable girl, slaves bound with unseen chains, compelled to take her on a colossal joyride around the wheel of stars which was the galaxy.
Second, there came a flood of memories of Asconel: its seas, its mountains, its forests and open plains, every recollection painful with yearning. He had resigned himself long ago, that day on the royal island of Gard, to a life of exile, but since Vix came to find him he had without realizing conceived an ache and a desire to go home, that now permeated every fibre of his being. The agony of deprivation was almost physical in its intensity, like hunger or—more nearly—like sex.
And third, as he began to bring his whirling thoughts under control, followed the shadow of a question. Could even Eunora, who had certainly released them from the Imperial conditioning, reverse the process with her supernatural talent, imposing fresh commands in place of those she had wiped out?
Could
she? Surely a mere child would find the range and sweep of adult minds—male minds, moreover—beyond her abilities to master.
Or maybe not. Here there were so many unknown factors, he was almost afraid to believe he dared hope.
But no one said anything. He and his half-brothers simply stared at Eunora, as though her tiny face and body held an infinite fascination for them. Bit by bit, the waiting grew to be a strain on her, and the expression of mocking triumph she wore gave place to a look of uncertainty.
At last she burst out, “Do as I tell you! Do as I tell you!” But the words were tinged with hysteria.
Behind her shoulder, Spartak saw Vineta move. She came forward into the middle of the control room floor, and spoke unexpectedly in a level voice.
“I want to go to Asconel. Because that’s where Vix wants to go.”
“Shut up!” Eunora rounded on her, the skin around her eyes crinkling up as though she were about to cry.
Murmurs of astonishment came from Vix and Tiorin. Spartak was not less surprised than they at Vineta’s intervention, but he was perhaps better equipped to see how it was possible than they were. He forced his thinking along the most promising line, remembering that Eunora was exposed to all of them at once.
Deliberately he fanned the coals of his resentment into flame, visualizing her as she had been when she was brought to the ship—corpse-stiff, kept alive only by machines, and suffering
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