The Shadow Men Read online

  This time—twice! That was all he wanted to know. Silently, sure of himself again, Cargill grabbed at the tube. He blinked—and it must have happened as quickly as that.

  CHAPTER X The Tweener World

  He was standing on a dusty road and it was already dark. A few feet from him Ann Reece was bent over, making adjustments to the long tubelike transport instrument. She had evidently recovered more quickly than he.

  She looked up and said satirically, “Well, here we are, starting all over again, Mr. Cargill."

  Briefly her sarcastic tone blurred the implication of what she had said. And then he thought shakily that “somewhere around, just about that time of day and on that very day, he had run off into the brush. Right then, about a mile from here, Lela and her father were settling down beside a lake, and in a few moments she would capture Morton Cargill number one.

  He had an impulse to escape again and watch that other Morton Cargill’s capture. He shook his head, rejecting the desire. A man threatened as he was had no time for side excursions.

  Ann Reece lifted the transporter and said to somebody behind Cargill, “All right, Lauer, you take this back to Grannis.”

  A young man stepped past Cargill. In the darkness it was almost impossible to make him out. He said sourly, “I don’t see why we want to give it back to him. We haven’t got anything like this.”

  Ann Reece shoved the transporter into his hands, grabbed him by the arm and led him along the road out of hearing. Cargill could make them out vaguely. They were arguing furiously. Presently Lauer must have yielded for he shouldered the instrument and trudged off. Ann came back to Cargill.

  “We wait here,” she said, “and this time you’d better not try to run off.” She added to somebody behind him, “If he makes a break spit him.”

  - Cargill had heard the men behind him but he hadn’t looked at them and he didn’t intend to. The quarrel between Lauer and Ann interested him. It implied that some Tweeners at least were dissatisfied with Grannis. He wondered idly if he might not be able to start another revolution.

  Aloud, deliberately, he said, “Oh, mud.”

  The young woman showed no sign that she had heard. The minutes trickled by. In the nearby brush a nightbird trilled, breaking the intense silence. Par away a coyote howled mournfully. Cargill felt a sudden press of air against him as if a big bird had passed over his head on silent wings.

  Beside him Ann Reece's flashlight blinked on. She pointed it into the sky, waved it violently, then turned to Cargill.

  “In a few minutes,” she said, “a volor will come down here. Don't say a word, just get in and go to the rear away from the pilots.”

  She added in a low tone, “The air transport men are anxious to get hold of you. They want to question you about the air fighting in World War Two. But they can’t have you till you’ve been trained.”

  Cargill, who had been an Infantry officer, maintained a discreet silence.

  “Sssshh,” said Ann Reece unnecessarily, “here they come.”

  The machine that settled down toward them over the trees was not a floater. It had swept-back wings and a long metal body. It must have been made of super-strong alloys for it crushed down among the trees that lined the narrow roadside and snapped one bole with a casualness that was all the more impressive because the tree came down with a roar.

  There was a rush of wind and then the plane slowed for the landing and poked a bright beam of light at them. A side door opened. Cargill ran forward, aware of the young woman following close behind.

  The entrance was higher than it had looked from a distance. He had to scramble to get inside. He slipped past a man in uniform, who was coming forward, fumbled his way along a dimly-lighted aisle and finally sank into the seat farthest to the rear.

  He heard Ann Reece say, “Help me up!”

  The young man said something Cargill couldn’t hear but it had ancient connotations.

  Ann Reece snapped, “Let go of my hand. I can hold it myself, thank you.”

  The officer laughed, then said, “Was that the great man?”

  Cargill heard no more. The machine moving, slowly at first, then with a violence that left no doubt of how different it was from the slow-motion floaters which—as Cargill knew only too well—were practically helpless at night.

  It climbed steeply, like a plane rather than an airship. And its speed after less than a minute was something to murmur about. He couldn’t remember ever having been in a machine that moved so fast.

  It gave him pause. It made his purpose seem less than possible. People who could build such planes had an advanced mechanical culture, and they would not be easily controlled by a man from the twentieth century. His partial success with the floater folk must have gone to his head. He was setting himself against people who actually planned an attack against the mysterious Shadows.

  The city came suddenly out of the distance. Great bulbs of light floated in the sky. They glared down on the buildings below, lighting up the scene vividly. Ann Reece settled into the adjoining seat. Cargill scarcely noticed.

  It was a city of skyscrapers. They sparkled at him from the distance with effervescent, changing lights. They seemed to be made of glass, their translucent opalescence glowing softly. The first feeling of alienness passed. Cargill gazed at the city, excitement quickening his pulse.

  Beside him Ann Reece said quietly, “You’re the first outsider in twenty years to see the capital.”

  Cargill looked at her questioningly. “You mean no strangers are allowed in Tweener territory?”

  Ann Reece shook her head. “This is our capital city,” she said. “It contains all the secrets of our people. We cannot afford to take chances. For twenty years all new Tweeners, all Tweeners who have failed in the Shadow tests, have been sent to other cities. No Shadow, not even Grannis, has been permitted to enter in that time.”

  “How can you stop the Shadows?” Cargill asked. He was remembering the way Grannis had walked unharmed through the fire of the spit gun that he had directed from Lela’s and his floater.

  “They’re not as invulnerable as they would like us to believe,” said Ann Reece, a grim note in her voice. “If you concentrate enough fire on them they run as fast as any ordinary mortal. We’ve discovered that.” In the darkness inside the volor, she made a gesture he didn’t see.

  “Anyway we don’t permit them to enter our territory. We are very strict about that. No one can enter the areas under our control without permission, and everyone who does enter has to submit to a thorough investigation.”

  “How much of this continent do you control?” Cargill asked.

  "About one quarter.”

  Cargill nodded. He remembered how many times Lela had turned the floater aside, and said, “That’s Tweener territory. We don’t go there.” He nodded again, half to himself. The floater folk must have discovered through experience that Tweener territory was dangerous.

  “And where’s Shadow City?” he asked.

  “Oh, that’s in the Rockies. The city is an impregnable fortress, hewn out of the rocks of almost inaccessible mountain and protected by an energy screen. It’s approachable only by air.”

  They were over the Tweener capital now.

  Cargill had a glimpse of glittering shopping centers adding their refulgence to the dazzling scene. Gradually the streets below became dimmer, more residential in nature.

  The volor began to slant down. He saw that they were over a broad expanse of lawn. It was evidently an estate for he could see in the distance what looked like stone fences.

  A large house stood well back among the trees.

  Ann Reece said, “This is my home.”

  Cargill looked at her in surprise. Then he looked again at the house and whistled softly under his breath. He had taken it for granted that Ann Reece was merely a minor agent, an unimportant cog in this affair.

  He looked again at the house. It was spacious and beautiful. It was of stone and its casselated walls rose in ever higher peaks and spires until, like some dimly seen dream-castle, they faded from sight in the high shadows.

  The windows were tall and pointed at the tops. The door was huge and matched the windows in design. The steps leading up to it were broad and white. It was an estate, all right, he thought with a quick intake of breath. Such a house, he estimated, would have cost three or four hundred thousand dollars in Los Angeles, 1946.

  He climbed the steps wonderingly. It was evident that in this affair he would be moving in high Tweener circles indeed.

  Ann Reece rang the bell. There was a pause and then the door was opened by an elderly man.

  The man said, “Welcome home, Miss Reece.”

  “Thank you, Granger," said Ann. She motioned Cargill to go past her and they walked silently along a brightly-lighted corridor and came presently to a room.

  CHAPTER XI Brain-Pattern

  THE room was large and well furnished, and Cargill examined it alertly. Directly across from him were a series of French doors that led to a terrace. Without hesitation he strode towards the doors and tried one of them. It opened, which surprised him.

  He had intended only to glance out. It was to be one look into the darkness to gain a quick picture of his surroundings.

  What he saw snatched his attention. The city—seen for the first time from the ground. When Ann Reece and he had arrived at the house the volor had landed them almost at the door. There had been little chance to observe the great globes of light that floated above the city.

  Seen from the air, from the tremendously swift volor, the globes had appeared stationary. Now he saw that they were moving steadily like the stars in their courses. Like miniature suns they shed their light on the metropolis below and followed each other round in a circular movem
ent.

  Cargill had to force his eyes away from them. He turned and went back into the room—and realized how tired he was. The long, tense night with Lela on the floater, the prolonged anxiety while he was in the Shadow prison again and the events of the past two hours, had taken toll of his strength. Wearily he sank down into a comfortable chair. Ann said, “I’ll have some food prepared for you.”

  She was turning away when Cargill remembered something. “I’ve been intending to ask you,” he said. “What happened to you after I escaped that first time?”

  “I reported your escape to Grannis naturally. About half an hour later there was a time adjustment and I had to do the job again.”

  "Half—an—hour—later?” said Cargill.

  He stared at her, more startled than he eared to admit. His picture of the process of time manipulation had been vague. Suddenly he saw it as something that was done to one individual.

  She hadn’t lived those months. For her the adjustment had taken place this very first night. Those who controlled the time stream really had potent power over its flow.

  It didn’t seem to occur to Ann Reece to ask what had happened to him. She crossed over to a door and disappeared.

  Cargill was served a thick steak, medium rare, a baked potato and a baked apple for desert. He ate with a concentration and purpose that reminded him of his first meal aboard the Bouvy floater. Thought of Lela tensed him. And so, when he suddenly looked up and saw that Ann was sitting back, watching him with amusement, it irritated him.

  She had changed her dress while the meal was being prepared. The short skirt was gone and she wore a long blue gown that matched the color of her eyes. It also made her look much younger.

  She had a pert face with a faintly calculating expression on it. Her lips were firm and well-shaped. She carried herself with an air of great assurance.

  "What’s all this about?” Cargill said. "What are you going to train me for?” Her expression changed. A set look came into her eyes and her lips tightened. But her voice retained some of the humor of her earlier amusement.

  She said, "You’re the key figure. Without you there’s no war.”

  "I’m sure I’m thrilled,” said Cargill acridly. "Does that make me a general?” "Well, not exactly.” She broke off. She snapped, "We’re sick of the horrible world the Shadows have created for us.” Her voice lost all its lightness. It grew hard with anger.

  “Imagine,” she flared, “changing the past so that people will gradually become more civilized, get over their neuroses and all that nonsense.”

  Her lips clenched into thin lines. Then she said slowly, “There’s only one way to change the world. We’ve got to get rid of the Shadows, force the Planiacs out of the sky and down to a life of usefulness. Once that happens, it won’t be long before this planet is humming again with industry and all that makes life worth living.”

  Cargill’s hunger was gone. He felt basically too hostile to her to be impressed by her vision. He demanded, “But where do I fit into this? What is the training that I’m to be given?” Ann Reece relaxed. The amused look came back to her face. She said with heavy irony, "One times one times one times one times zero equals a million. That’s the mathematics involved in your training. Anything else you want to know?”

  "Blast you!” said Cargill. He was on his feet, leaning over the table toward her. “If you people expect any cooperation from me you’d better start telling me the facts. Whose idea was it to use me in whatever you’re going to use me for in this Shadow City attack?” “Grannis.”

  That held him briefly. “How come,” said Cargill finally, “that you’re all playing the game of a Shadow traitor?” Ann Reece was cool. “We’re not playing his game. He’s playing ours. He agrees with us. He thinks we have the answer to the problems of this age.” “You fools!” Cargill was scathing. “Why, you’re just a bunch of babes in the wood. You—”

  He stopped himself in alarm. Careful, he thought. This was no time to reveal his special knowledge of Grannis and his plans. Slowly he settled back into his chair. He stared at her unsmilingly. She said, "As soon as you’ve finished eating I’ll show you to your bedroom. You sound tired.” There was no doubt of the sarcasm in her voice.

  After she had left him Cargill explored his bedroom. It was small, but skilfully arranged. The walls were done in shades of green, contrasting with a vividly white bed and white furniture—very effective.

  He was surprised when he looked out of the window, to see that the room was on the second floor. Since he had climbed no stairs he guessed that the house was built on the side of a hill.

  He mentally measured the distance to the ground below, then frowned with irritation. It was at least twenty feet, a considerable drop even for a strong active man. Not that it mattered. He doubted that he’d get far if he tried to escape through the window. His method of handling this situation must be on a much higher level of action.

  He turned back into the room and started to undress. In spite of his nap in the living room he was tired and he fell asleep almost immediately.

  A voice began to talk to him, urging him to action, something about Shadow City and the necessity of breaking down the Shadow pyramid.

  “Throw the switch,” the voice commanded. “And the signal for you to act is—is . . .”

  It faded away. The sound and its echoes retreated into an abyss of time and space. If the signal was mentioned, it was too far away for him to hear— then.

  Hours later, he awoke with a start and simultaneously realized two things. It was broad daylight and a voice was saying from the air just above his head, “The signal for you to act will be the phrase, ‘Visit us some time!’ ”

  He told Ann Reece about it at breakfast, adding irritably, “You don’t think that kind of hypnosis is going to work on me.”

  She was smugly triumphant. “It’s not exactly hypnosis,” she said. “The electronic tube I used works on the principle I mentioned last night, where one times one etcetera equals a million or a billion, or whatever it’s set for—in this case a million. When I turned that tube on last night it established a pattern in your brain that only another tube set differently could eradicate ”

  She shrugged. “So you’re trained. You can no longer communicate in any way to anybody the knowledge you have of the plan. And when you hear that cue your legs will carry you to the pyramid power house. Your hands will throw the switch. And you'll do all this exactly at twelve o’clock noon, Shadow City time, after you’ve been given the signal.” “Just a minute,” said Cargill. He had been listening with a strained sense ot unreality. Now, abruptly, he tried to snatch a shred of victory from the implacable fact.

  “What day,” he asked hoarsely, “will this happen?”

  She was calm. “You’ll find that out,” she said, “when it happens.” She broke off. “Better finish your breakfast. There’ll be an air force floater here to pick you up in half an hour.”

  Things were moving fast.

  CHAPTER XII Conspiracy

  THERE must be something he could say or do to make sure that things happened right for himself, Cargill thought as he stood among the volor pilots later that morning. Because—it was obvious—the attack couldn’t take place for at least two months.

  That much he knew. He had lived slightly over two months with Lela Bouvy and had listened to a Shadow City radio-TV station right up to the last.

  Just for a moment, with Ann Reece, he had forgotten that. He’d never forget it again. He was living a time-paradox existence and for all he knew the paradox was even more intricate than he could hope to guess or imagine.

  But he’d have to make sure that there was delay. He’d have to force this situation to his will.

  Warily he looked around him. The day was perfect. It was good to be alive and here on this verdantly green hillside. The fleecy white of the small cumulus clouds that floated lazily in the higher vault of the heavens only served to emphasize its blueness. An occasional breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees and puffed against his cheeks, bringing the smell of growing things.

  In the distance he could see the slow yellow water of a broad river. The flats that spread between him and that wide expanse of water were covered with clumps of swamp willow and a kind of coarse stiff grass whose tall serrated blades looked sharp and forbidding even at this distance.