Collected Short Fiction, page 51
The other attendant grunted at the moment of impact and went flying into the bare, adjoining room. Instantly Janice dashed over and closed the door of the cell. It locked automatically. That reduced the opposition to just one, and he was in none too good shape.
Dan advanced on him and brought him to his knees with a series of deadly close-in jabs, reached down, and grabbed the jangling key-ring. He turned to Janice, who was white-faced with terror.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. “Before the whole place is down around us.”
“But I’m not dressed!” Jan protested, indicating the one-piece nightgown that was all she was wearing.
“We’ll worry about that later,” Dan said through bruised lips. “The important thing is to get out of here!”
He pushed his silvery hair back into a semblance of order, tucked in his shirt, and opened the door. “Let’s go,” he said, eyeing the unconscious guard on the floor.
They went out, and Dan heard the door click automatically closed behind them, locking it from the inside. It was, he knew, a precautionary measure—and this time it was working in his favor. Those two guards would be in there until someone thought of checking.
They came to a door at the end of the corridor. Dan rattled the keyring hurriedly, trying each until one of the keys sank in. He threw the door open, and, taking Janice by the hand, led her through into the next corridor.
There, too, there was a lock to be opened, and that required the expense of precious seconds. Dan expected to be discovered any moment, and hoped he’d be able to bluff his way in that case. He wouldn’t be able to fight off the whole sanitarium.
At last they passed through the final door and out on the grounds. It was a warm, sunny afternoon, but the cool air of the ocean breeze whispered between the buildings. Dan saw Janice shiver a little and draw her gown tighter.
“We’ll be someplace safe soon,” he said soothingly. “It’s all going to come out all right, baby.”
“I hope so,” Janice said fervently. “But that hideous creature—”
“Don’t think about it,” he told her. “There’s time to worry about that later. Let’s concentrate on getting out of here, first. That’s our big problem at the moment.”
They crossed the neatly-manicured lawn, rounded a corner in the path. There, in front of the attractive, white-stuccoed main building, Thorne saw an auto—Dr. Candor’s car.
“Let’s go,” he said. They crossed the lawn at a quick trot. The car’s doors were unlocked, and Dan and Janice climbed in.
“I hope he’s fool enough to leave his keys in the car,” Dan said. He fumbled around near the ignition lock for a moment, and shook his head angrily. “No luck.” He turned to Janice. “Got a hairpin?”
“They took them away from me when they brought me here,” she said. “Oh, hurry! Someone’s coming!”
Dan glanced up and saw that someone, indeed, was heading toward them. Hastily, he ripped off his tieclip, jammed it up behind the ignition lock, and shorted the ignition.
The car rumbled into life just as the astonished Dr. Candor approached. Dan drove out of the sanitarium full speed ahead.
TO: MELWAR DOSS, I.O.C.C., VIBAN III FROM: LLOGEL REMM, DANNISET VI
SHIP 1-69 ARRIVED TODAY, REASONABLY MUCH AS PROMISED, AND WE’RE GRATEFUL FOR THIS MINOR BLESSING. I WISH TO APOLOGIZE FOR MY IMPATIENCE. HOWEVER, THERE’S ONE TRIVIAL POINT YOU MIGHT CARE TO KNOW. ALTHOUGH THE SHIP ARRIVED, KRROBEK DID NOT. WE ARE UNDERSTANDABLY UNHAPPY OVER THIS.
WE’VE SOLD YOUR DAMNED PACKING-CASE FOR SALVAGE, TO SAVE US THE TROUBLE OF SENDING YOU THE BILLS FOR THESE INTERSTELLAR COMMUNICATIONS. SUPPOSE YOU GET ON THE BALL NOW AND GET KRROBEK TO US. THIS IS CAUSING A HORRIBLE FOULUP IN OUR BUSINESS AFFAIRS.
THERE PROBABLY WONT BE TIME FOR A SUBSTITUTE. I SUGGEST YOU TRACK DOWN KRROBEK ON WHATEVER WORLD 1-69 LANDED, BEFORE KRROBEK IS SERIOUSLY DAMAGED. AND SOMEONE WILL HAVE TO ANSWER FOR THIS IF KRROBEK IS NOT HERE DOUBLE QUICK.
BEST ALWAYS, AND SORRY TO BE SO WORDY IN A COLLECT MESSAGE.
LLOGEL
Four hours later, Dan Thorne was pushing his Buick down the coast road toward Arborville. It had been a rough four hours. He had taken Janice to Los Angeles and made Jerry Kleinschmidt hide her in a small hotel under an assumed name. Then he’d removed the “Enroth” disguise, abandoned Candor’s car where it would be sure to be found, and headed back to Arborville in his own car.
Someway, somehow, he Jnad to get himself and Janice off the hook. Not only their reputations, but their freedom was at stake.
Arborville didn’t look like a sleepy California town when he pulled in in front of the Santa Barbara Hotel. There were people scattered in little clumps all up and down the main street, talking and chattering excitedly. He walked into the lobby of the hotel to find Sheriff Malcom waiting for him. The tall, lean officer uncoiled himself and walked over to Thorne.
“Good evening, Mr. Thorne; could I have a word with you?”
Thorne eyed him sharply. “Do you want to arrest me again?”
Malcom grinned and shook his head. “Not me—at least, not until I have to, y’know.” He lowered his voice so that no one else in the lobby could hear him. “But the FBI may want to talk to you eventually.”
“The FBI? What for?”
“Kidnapping is the charge. And the state police are looking for you on an auto theft rap. Of course, they don’t know it was you—yet.”
“What do you mean?” Thorne felt trapped.
“I mean that they haven’t got around to figuring out who Dr. Enroth was yet. The description doesn’t tally with yours at all. But they’ll figure it out eventually, and when they do, I’m afraid you’ll be in for a bit of trouble.”
“If you’re so sure of yourself,” said Thorne, “why haven’t you told them what you suspect?”
The Englishman’s eyes grew serious. “Because I know you’re not lying. I don’t want you to get angry, so I’ll tell you why I’ve done what I’ve done. I’ve been in this country for twenty years; been a citizen for ten. I like being sheriff, and I don’t want to lose the job, if you follow me.
“Very well, then. Last night there was a bit of a rumpus out at Hadley’s, as you bloody well know. I went out to the beach by myself to look for this golden ship of yours.”
“And you didn’t find it,” said Thorne.
“I didn’t say that,” Malcom reminded him. “I said that it wasn’t there. It wasn’t. But here’s what I did see: I saw that ship rising in the air as I approached it. I hit it with the spotlight on my car and watched it go straight up until it was out of sight. It started off slowly, like a balloon rising, then it went faster and faster until it was gone. No rockets or anything; it just moved up by itself.”
“Why didn’t you say something about it?” Thorne was angry. “Janice and I wouldn’t be in this mess now if you’d mentioned that!”
“I’m not so sure. I rather imagine all three of us would be in the soup. They’d think we were all off our rockers. Besides, if it came before a jury or anything like that, a smart attorney could make it seem that I’d only seen a weather balloon or the planet Venus or something of the kind.
“The point is that I’m still keeping my mouth shut, and this time, it’s in your favor.”
“Fine. Just great,” Thorne said bitterly. “But they’ll find out eventually, and when they do, what are you going to do? Just sit around on your fat tail while they lock Janice up in the booby bin and pack me off to Alcatraz?”
“I don’t think it’ll come to that,” Malcom said. “I’ll testify in court if I have to. Meanwhile, I want to get more corroborative evidence. My men and I are going out to that beach in daylight and go over the place thoroughly. If the monster took off in his ship, he won’t be around, but he may have left some evidence behind that will at least prove that Miss Hadley wasn’t having hallucinations. Do you want to go with us?” Thorne didn’t hesitate. “Count me in,” he said.
They left for the beach immediately, in the sheriff’s small sedan. The police were already out there, milling aimlessly over the beach. Thorne spotted half a dozen men, led by Sergeant Wheeler.
The deputy came over to them, looking glum.
“Hello, chief.”
“What’s up, Wheeler?”
“Nothing,” the thick-featured policeman said. “We’ve been combing this beach for the last half hour or more, and no sign of anything but seashells.”
“Keep looking,” Malcom said cheerfully. “Don’t give up.”
Wheeler scratched his head. “Sure thing,” he said. “Just one question, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Tell me, boss—what in hell are we looking for?”
“Evidence,” said Malcom. “Oh,” said Wheeler, glaring angrily at Thorne. “What about Miss Hadley?”
“She’s in Dr. Candor’s rest home,” Thorne said quickly, hoping the word of her kidnapping hadn’t spread so widely that he was supposed to know about it.
“Like hell she is,” Wheeler retorted. “She was grabbed out of there by some fat kidnapper this morning. Or shouldn’t I be telling him this?” he asked Malcom.
“Janice kidnapped! Great Scott!” Thorne burst out in mock horror. “What steps are being taken to find her?”
“The FBI’s out looking for the kidnapper now. It’s out of our province. But we can help.” Malcom turned to Wheeler. “That kidnapper may be the same man who perpetrated the original attack on Miss Hadley. And he may very well be hiding out in the cliff area along this beach. Spread out and look around, and whistle if you find anything suspicious.”
“Yes, sir,” Wheeler said grudgingly, glaring at Thorne.
He turned and trudged away across the beach.
“Good show,” Malcom said approvingly. “But I hope we find something more solid to go by than what we’ve got. I’d hate to have to go into court and talk about golden spaceships that aren’t there.”
Dan and the sheriff prowled the beach together for the next half hour, while the other six policemen split up and ranged through the twisted heap of rocks that lined the shore.
Suddenly a scream of horror rent the air, followed by two pistol-shots.
“Aaaargh!”
The cry boomed out over the lonely beach. Thorne, who had been bending over a depression in the sand that might just have once been a footprint, looked up in alarm at the terrible sound.
“That was Wheeler,” Malcom said.
“Sounds bad,” said Dan. “Where’d it come from?”
By now the other policemen, their faces white and tense, had come running up to join them. “It came from back there,” one of them said, gesturing to a looming curtain of rock that dropped to the sea about half a mile up ahead. “He was in there, somewhere.”
Then, a second time, the scream resounded over the beach. Their faces set and grim, the seven men began to run toward the cliff.
After no more than a hundred yards, they stopped. There was no need to go further.
For, emerging from behind the outcropping, was a nightmare thing that could have risen from the deepest pit. Fifteen feet high, its eyes two flaming orange beacons, its hideous noseless face leering at them, was—what?
Instantly Dan remembered Janice’s description. A beast with seven tails, she had said. Well, the description might almost fit. Seven long, thin caudal spines projected from the beast’s back; they might almost be considered tails.
It was lumbering across the beach now, within plain sight. The men were rooted to the sand in astonishment and terror. Dan could well understand Janice’s emotions when she had first encountered the thing. It was loathsome, utterly horrible to behold.
But more horror was yet to come.
As the creature approached, Dan made out something clutched in one of its four dangling arms. It seemed like a limp rag doll—and then what it actually was became painfully clear. It was the shattered, torn body of Sergeant Wheeler.
The monster was carrying the policeman gently almost delicately. But those razor-sharp claws must have wreaked unholy agony first.
They stood still, and the beast moved closer. It was now only about a thousand feet away. It spied the waiting policemen.
“The devil,” Malcom murmured. “The bloody devil!” He drew his gun.
“Put that thing away,” Thorne snapped. “Wheeler evidently tried to shoot the creature, and must have driven it wild.”
“You’re right,” said Malcom. He re-holstered the gun and looked up.
The monster had stopped and was standing some eight hundred feet away, cradling the broken body of Wheeler in its arms. It stared at the seven men for a moment or two, then dropped the body to the sand, where it rolled limply into a heap. A thick red trickle of blood stained the sand.
Then it turned, without further ado, and ponderously moved off in the direction from which it came.
Dan was shocked—not so much by the ugliness of the beast, hideous though it was, as by a sort of retrospective feeling of sympathy for Janice. It was impossible to imagine what the girl had gone through when the thing had picked her up and slit her bathing suit off, but it was incredible that she had come through the unnerving experience with her sanity intact.
Wheeler was a mess. Malcom stripped off the trench-coat he invariably wore and threw it over the body “It won’t be easy to tell his wife,” he said. “Wheeler went like a hero.”
“I doubt that,” Dan said. “I don’t mean to take anything away from him, but a smarter man might have come out of it alive. After all, the monster didn’t harm Janice—she says it was gentle to her. Wheeler must have tried to shoot the beast.”
“Poor fool,” Malcom said gently. “As if that puny .38 of his could have gotten through that matted hide.” He signalled to two of the policemen, who picked up the body and began to carry it to the waiting police car. Then he turned back to Dan.
“Well, it’s in the open now. It’s no longer just the story of a hysterical girl, now. We’ve got witnesses, and we have a martyr. If we only had that spaceship, now!”
“You think it’s extra-terrestrial, then?” Dan asked.
“Definitely,” said Malcom. “Incredible as it seems. But where on Earth could have produced such a creature?” Dan nodded. “The golden spaceship must have brought it here, let the beast loose, and gone back to wherever it came from.” He paled. “Is this some sort of alien invasion, I wonder? Maybe these things have been let loose all over the world, to drive Earth into a state of terror and soften us up for the invasion that’ll follow.”
“We’ll know soon enough,” Malcom said. “The problem at hand is to trap the one beast we know about, before it causes any further terror. Come on; we’ll have to get the FBI off Dr. Enroth’s trail and get them looking for this beast!”
TO: LLOGEL REMM, DANNISET VI FROM: MELWAR DOSS, I.O.C.C., VIBAN III
WE’RE REALLY SORRY ABOUT THIS LATEST ERROR. APPARENTLY SHIP 1-69 UNLOADED AND RELEASED KRROBEK INADVERTENTLY. REST ASSURED THAT STEPS ARE BEING TAKEN TO REMEDY THIS SITUATION AT ONCE. I.O.G.C. WILL GUARANTEE FULL INDEMNITY FOR ANY LOSSES YOU MAY SUFFER AS A RESULT OF THIS DELAY IN TRANSIT. AGAIN, OUR APOLOGIES.
MELWAR
By the next day, the news was splattered all over the California seaboard, and the wire services were picking it up as fast as information came in. Neither the FBI nor the local police seemed interested in Daniel Thorne anymore, nor was Candor any too anxious to press charges against Dan for the theft of his car. Now that Janice had been proven sane, the psychiatrist was in no mood to display the fact that he had made an erroneous diagnosis. His deflated ego was thoroughly smothered by his superego.
Dan Thorne sat in the sheriff’s office along with assorted Federal, State, and local cops, plus a smattering of Army men. The air outside hummed with the whirling motors of helicopters that were searching the area square mile by square mile. The only trouble was that there was a devil of a lot of square miles to cover.
Sheriff Malcom’s lean face was covered with perspiration; the room was hot and there were too many people in it.
“There’s no telling what it will take to kill that thing,” one of the Army officers said. “According to the sheriff, a .38 slug doesn’t even make it flinch.”
A couple of other officials were pouring over maps of the vicinity, trying to figure out where the great beast could be hiding.
All the ranches in the area had been taken over by the Army in order to protect the local citizenry, and a barricade had been set up around the whole county to prevent the beast’s escaping. Meanwhile, tanks and Infantry troops were combing the countryside.
Some of the bigshots obviously did not believe that the thing was as big as it was claimed to be, and quite probably wouldn’t have believed the story at all if it hadn’t been that Wheeler’s mangled body was hard to explain away.
One of the deputies came in and tapped Dan on the shoulder. “Mr. Thorne, there’s a man out here to see you. Says you know him; says his name is Forester.”
Dan got up and walked out of the office into the blazing sun of the street. Sure enough, it was J. Eckman Forester himself. A self-styled expert on practically everything, Forester was nonetheless of importance in the movie world. He had connections with most of the big studios and had produced a couple of Grade B pictures that had made money in spite of their corniness. He was a tall, round-faced man with wavy brown hair, a neatly clipped mustache, and rimless glasses. His usually smiling face looked worried.
“Dan!” he shouted as soon as Thorne stepped out of the busy office. “Dan! Listen, we’ve got to do something; we can’t let them kill this thing!”
“Are you nuts, Forester? What—”
“Don’t you see? This is the opportunity of a lifetime! An intelligent alien from Outer Space has landed for the first time in human history! And we are acting like a bunch of wild animals!”
Thorne put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it. “I see what you mean, Forester, but, dammit, this thing is dangerous.”
