Chapter 18

It was some two hours later when Hanlon, in his own body, heard steps outside, and the sound of a key in his prison door. It opened, and one of the palace guard officers stood in the doorway.

“Well, you’re awake,” he said. “You sober now?”

“I never was drunk,” Hanlon snapped, sitting erect to give his thought-out alibi. “I was working there in the stables, and felt myself getting faint. I managed to stagger into the tackroom, where I knew there was a cot--and that’s all I remember until I found myself here.”

“The head groom said you were drunk, and had us arrest you and bring you here. But you don’t look like a man who had been dead drunk a few hours ago.”

“Come smell my breath. You’ll see I wasn’t. In fact, I very seldom take even a drink of mild toxo and I haven’t had any of that for many periods. Mykkyl’s my drink.”

The guard came close, sniffing, and Hanlon continued his prepared but necessary lie. “Ever since I was a boy I’ve been subject to these fainting spells. I’m getting so I can usually feel one coming on, and go lie down somewhere. In half an hour or so I wake up and am all right again until the next seizure. They usually come only two or three times a year.”

The officer scratched his head. “Can’t smell no liquor. Guess you must be telling the truth. In that case, there’s no sense keeping you here. You can leave if you want to.”

“Thanks, friend. I suppose it was a natural reaction, after seeing me unconscious.”

Hanlon walked out of the little residence jail, and went back to his room in the groom’s quarters. There he sat down to plan what his next moves would be.

“I’ve got to warn the Ruler some way, and make sure he is really protected,” he thought. “But how can I do that? Maybe he likes me well enough to promote me to a place in his guards. Oh, if I could only talk to dad about all this. I need his help and advice. Dare I take the time to start hunting for him again? Or must I keep on working here?”

His heart clamored for him to do so, but he made himself consider every angle and connotation of his situation as coldly and logically as possible, as though the admiral was just that, and not also his beloved father.

He should, Hanlon supposed, warn the Ruler. On the other hand, he knew Amir was no fool, and that as a result of his near-death the past few hours, he would certainly be taking greater care of himself than ever? Incidentally, Hanlon wondered, how badly was Amir hurt?

Was there anything further he (Hanlon) could do about it?

He thought and thought, but could not see just how, without giving everything away. Perhaps he could get word to young Inver, to keep a more careful watch over his father. But trying that, too, would be a give-away. Was it time for that? Time for him to come out into the open and appear as a Terran and a member of its Inter-Stellar Corps?

SSM George Hanlon had matured tremendously under all the experiences he had undergone since joining the secret service, but he was still only a very young man. Such problems as these were really far above him, he felt--were things he simply did not have sense enough to figure out correctly. Not enough experience; not enough brains, he told himself with what he thought was an honest evaluation.

Nevertheless, he knew he was alone, that it was up to him, and that he had to make a decision one way or another.

But part of that decision was not left up to him. He was interrupted in the midst of his cogitations by the sudden opening of his room’s door. He looked up in annoyance--and it was Endar.

“Pack your things and get out,” the head groom said harshly. “I’ve seen the Ruler, told him about your disgraceful act of being drunk on duty, and have his permission to discharge you. He was very disappointed in you, he said.”

Beneath his harshness Hanlon could easily detect the man’s fierce satisfaction at having thus rid himself of a potential (as he thought) competitor. From his reading of the other’s mind, Hanlon knew that Endar had not talked this over with the Ruler, and was doing it on his own. But the young S S man did not dare reveal his knowledge of that fact at this moment.

So he made himself say plaintively, “But I wasn’t drunk. I felt one of my fainting spells coming on, and ran into the tackroom to lie down while it was on me.”

“A trumped-up excuse, which doesn’t help,” Endar sneered. “Even if it was true, which I know it isn’t, we don’t want such people working here. So get out--and fast.” He threw some money on the bed, as wages, and left.

In a way Hanlon was rather glad. It did help solve some of his problems, in that it left him freer to go and come where and when he wished. So he made no further protests, but silently packed his things, pocketed the money Endar had left, and went out and got his trike and rode back to Stearra. He wondered if his old rooms had yet been taken by someone else.

When he reached the building where he had been living, he parked his tricycle in the shed in the back yard, and went up to his old apartment.

The padlock and hasp had been forced, and the door was closed but unlocked. He opened it and went in just the same, for there were still some of his things there. He was determined to get them, even if someone else was living here now.

But the moment he got inside he sensed something changed. He stood quietly, letting his mind sniff at the feeling, trying to figure out what it was. He thought he heard a slight noise in the next room, and tiptoed softly across to the door. It was, he now saw, slightly ajar, and he peered through the crack. Someone was lying on his bed--an older Estrellan male, he judged by the longer, heavier beard.

Something about that face seemed familiar.

_The being in the spaceship high above the surface of this planet had been growing more and more puzzled and unsure of itself during the past several days. Its plans seemed to be going all awry--and it was not quite sure why._

_That native it had been controlling had not acted as he was supposed to act. Or rather, things had happened that had made it impossible for him to act always as directed. Even to the being the strange behavior of those four-legged beasts for riding, that had ruined its carefully prepared plan, was completely unexplainable._

_And there was still the problem of that one unreadable mind on this world. Various things the being had done or caused to be done had enabled it, through its high-powered, multiphased scanner, to SEE the entity and keep track of its various goings and comings, but all its most intense efforts had not yet been able to touch that mind._

_That this entity was working with those others who had such a different mind-texture from the usual run of Estrellans, it had long since proved to its satisfaction. The being now knew what these others were, and what they were trying to do on this planet. But who or what that unreadable entity was, what it was doing, and why--all this had so far defied the being’s utmost powers._

_So it was puzzled and as nearly worried as it was possible for one of its race to be. Also, for the first time during its very long life, the being was beginning to lose a little of its supreme faith in its own abilities. It was almost beginning to wonder if it was possible for itself to fail in its mission? But that was unthinkable._

_And yet, it almost wailed mentally, that entity MUST be working toward the same ends as those others. Was it their master?_

_For nearly two Estrellan days and nights it had been considering carefully and minutely all the data so far acquired, and what its next actions should be. One thing it had early decided--there was no further use for confining or controlling those other two strange-minded creatures from that other system. It therefore released the “flee” compulsion from the one, and caused the “jailer” to open the doors and allow the other to leave its prison._