Chapter 22

“They certainly are building a great fleet Sire, on a planet they call ‘Algon’,” Hanlon stated crisply, and almost gave a yell of glee as, the emperor’s mind fleetingly called up a picture--distorted as though it had only been described to him--of one of the Greenies. He hurriedly continued punching. “I know His Highness was the guiding mind behind that, for I was supposed to be working for him, and I’ve just come back from four months there.”

The emperor started to deny it, but Admiral Hawarden stepped closer to the desk and fixed the monarch with a stern eye.

“We don’t wish to be discourteous or insolent, Sire, but we know that you do know something about this. Wait, please,” he held up his hand as the emperor opened his mouth, so apparently about to demand an apology for the lese majeste of calling him a liar. “We do not believe you were doing this of your own accord, nor that you initiated the conspiracy. But we do feel positive you know something about it. And for the peace of the Federation we must have every possible scrap of information you can give us.”

The emperor became gradually less antagonistic, and as his face flushed his eyes became pleading.

“I ... I...”, he struggled to go on, then realizing that something was holding him back, changed the subject slightly. “I hope, gentlemen, you will forgive me. I don’t know what has come over me these past years. I think you know, Hawarden, that I was always heartily in favor of the Federation, and did all I could to make it a force for peace throughout the System. I know only too well how inter-planetary war would wreck all our economies, and I do not want that. But I seem to have ... changed ... these last years ... and I didn’t want to!” It was almost a sob.

The admiral, as man to man, went quickly around the desk and laid his hand comfortingly on the imperial shoulder. “We all felt that, Sire. You were far too great a ruler to have changed so radically. It puzzled and saddened us all, but now I believe we can begin to see the reason--and it doesn’t harm you in our estimation now that we realize you couldn’t help it.”

The emperor raised puzzled eyes. “What do you mean by that?”

“May I answer that, Sire?” Hanlon stepped forward. “We know now that Gorth Bohr wasn’t human--he was an alien from...”

“An ... alien?” the emperor quavered.

“Yes, Sire, definitely. We do not yet know where he came from originally, but we do know he had considerable more--or different--mental powers in some ways, than most humans. You are under some sort of a compulsion or hypnosis that prevents your speaking out. The fact that your health failed and your body deteriorated so rapidly proves it was against your desires.”

The emperor was startled by that, and his body shook as with a palsy. He repeated his query, dully, “An alien?”

Hanlon and Hawarden nodded silently. After a moment Hanlon took a deep breath and dared the question: “May we have permission to search Bohr’s quarters and offices to see what evidence we can find that will perhaps tell us more about his projects?”

His Majesty straightened with decision, and years seemed to drop from his face and figure. “You certainly may, I’ll give orders at once, and you can send in as many of your experts as you desire. I can sense the need for speed.”

Hanlon bowed his thanks, and the admiral voiced his. “That is very gracious, Sire. The Corps thanks you.”

The emperor was gaining strength and his old shrewdness by the moment. “What about that fleet you say is being built on ... on some other planet?”

Hanlon noticed that hesitation and guessed the reason. But for the moment he let it lie, and answered the question. “It is not yet a serious menace, Sire, but will be shortly if not taken into the Corps’ hands.”

Admiral Hawarden explained further that the grand fleet was being assembled, and would cope with the problem within days.

“Good. Good. Call on us for whatever assistance we can give.”

They talked over many details for some time, then the admiral rose as though to take his leave.

But Hanlon wasn’t yet ready. He wanted to pick up that matter he had let lie some minutes ago. He stepped up to the desk and looked straight into the imperial eyes.

“Sire, please think hard with all your will. I believe you know more about Bohr’s plans, but that the knowledge was hypnotically sealed in your sub-conscious. Bohr had that power, we know. Please try to break that seal. Bohr is dead now--his compulsion can no longer bind you!”

The emperor seemed doubtful, but at Hanlon’s continued, assured insistence, finally agreed to try. He concentrated for long, long, agonizing minutes. Great beads of sweat stood out on his white, strained face, and his hands clenched into tight balls.

Hanlon almost repented, and thought of breaking the spell and telling the suffering ruler it didn’t matter that much, that they could get the knowledge elsewhere. But he had to have those facts--and if he could suffer as he had done, so could others.

But just then the emperor suddenly relaxed. His features became more composed and natural, and he smiled in relief.

“It is coming now,” he wiped his face with his silk kerchief. “Bohr did boast to me that he would one day rule the galaxy. But then he told me I must forget what he said, and I did.”

That speech seemed to release him still further from the awful tension that had held him for so many years. He was weary but happy. “He didn’t tell me much in detail, as nearly as I can remember. Merely that plans were being made to gain control first of this planet, then the Federation, and after that the whole Galaxy.”

“Did he say who was with him in this outrageous undertaking?” Hawarden gasped, and Hanlon added, “We mean, was he alone in it, or was some other planet or system backing him?”

The emperor thought steadily for some time, then shook his head. “I don’t seem to remember,” he sighed sadly. Nor could he, after half an hour’s more concentration. “I am sorry I cannot give you that information, gentlemen. But you will soon, we trust, have reason to believe that we are once more desirous of doing everything possible for the peace and well-being of the Federation.”

There were tears in Admiral Hawarden’s eyes and he impulsively stepped forward and grasped the emperor’s hand.

“Welcome back, Sire,” he said sincerely.

Back at Base, there were messages awaiting, that had come in while they were gone. The admiral handed one of them to Hanlon. It was terse, but brought a happy smile to his face.

“Coming immediately, with full crew. Congratulations. NEWTON.”

Others were from Grand Fleet, regarding the measures being taken for the fleet rendezvous, and the part the Simonidean sector was to play. Another was from the planetographers, giving the spatial location of Algon, with the note that they had finally found it on a star map, and that a survey ship was being sent there at once.

Hanlon punched a stud. “Stay away from Algon,” he rapped out when the scientist’s face appeared on the screen. “Don’t send that ship until you get permission. Just forget all about even having heard of Algon!”