RESCUE MISSION

                         By Robert Silverberg

                Snaring both Earthmen in a mind-web was
             easy for the mutant telepath. But once you've
             caught your prey--how do you get rid of them?

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
              Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
                             December 1957
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


Rick Mason's ship was still high over Mordarga, coming in for a
landing, when the cry for help sounded in his audio phones.

Rick frowned, reached to the control panel to turn up the
amplification--then realized that the voice had not come over the audio
after all. It had spoken in his mind.

_Help! Rick, they've caught me!_

There was urgency in the mental cry. Instantly, Mason sized up the
situation.

It was his partner, Klon Darra, the Venusian--the other half of this
mentally-attuned Solar System intelligence team. Klon Darra was in
trouble!

He focussed his mental energies and replied: _I read you, Klon Darra.
What's the problem?_

The response was blurred and indistinct, as if the Venusian were
laboring under great mental strain. _I ... landed on schedule. Fell
into hands of ... ruler. In prison. Going to be tortured. I...._

Mason struggled to keep his attention on his descending spaceship while
picking up the Venusian's fading mental voice. _Go ahead, Klon Darra. I
hear you._

_They're going to torture me. Help me, Mason. Help!_

_Where are you?_ Mason asked.

_Dungeons of the main palace, Mordarga City. Hurry, Rick. There's not
much time!_

Mason switched on the fore visi-plate and the mottled grey-and-blue
surface of Mordarga became visible ahead of him. The planet Mordarga
was one of the universe's potential trouble-spots. That was why the
Solar System Government had sent a team of its intelligence agents
there.

But they had planned on a leisurely, detailed reconnaissance of the
planet, intending to return to home base with a full account of
Mordarga's weaknesses and future militaristic plans. Now, that was
changed; Klon Darra would have to be rescued at once. The Mordargans
probably knew by now that the Solar System had discovered Mordarga's
warlike aims.

Rick began setting up his landing orbit. The tiny two-man ship curved
sharply downward as his trained fingers played over the control
console. The planet of Mordarga sprang up to meet the down-plunging
ship.

       *       *       *       *       *

Mordarga was in the Sirius system, a big, ugly world inhabited by big,
ugly humanoids. Mason landed in a secluded spot on the north continent
of the planet, coming to rest in a foul-smelling valley between two
looming mountains.

Jutting angular blue-leaved trees stuck up around, and hoarse-voiced
alien wildlife chattered and yawped in the background. Mason strapped
his safety-kit to his side, flipped on the homing-switch he'd need
to find his way back to the ship, and lightly swung down from to the
ground. He started to walk.

Unless his figures were wrong Mordarga City lay three miles to the
west. He kept his receptive mind attuned, hoping to hear from the
Venusian again but Klon Darra was not sending.

They made a good team, Mason and the Venusian. A pair of Earthmen
somehow never were as efficient together as a mixed-planet outfit;
the green-skinned Venusian had certain attributes Mason lacked and
vice-versa. Together they were a well-nigh perfect intelligence team.
Knowledge of Mordarga's future intentions was essential to the safety
and security of the Solar System.

Suddenly Klon Darra's voice sounded in his mind.

_Mason, have you landed yet?_

_Yes. I'm on my way. You all right?_

_They still don't know why I'm on Mordarga. They picked me up on
suspicion. If you can get me out of here before they find out._

_I'm three miles out of Mordarga City. Can you hold out for another
half hour?_ Mason asked.

Silence for a moment. Then the Venusian said, _I think so. So far
they've just tried some elementary torture. Not kid stuff but I'm still
okay._

Mason grinned. A Venusian's pain threshold was fantastically high;
the Mordargans could torture Klon Darra for days without getting any
essential information from him. But there were other methods.

Klon Darra said: _They've sent for a telepath. Once they penetrate my
mind they'll know why we're here. We'll both be cooked._

_Don't worry_, Mason telepathed. _I'll be there with bells on._

There were occasional buildings now, he saw; the main bulk of Mordarga
City lay up ahead, sprawling in a disorderly, confused fashion. The
Mordargans, for all their neat precision of mind, cared little about
the arrangement of their cities.

Mason saw some of the Mordargans now--husky brutes seven feet tall,
square-shouldered and thick-muscled. They were gray-skinned with
blazing white eyes and savage fangs; they diverged most sharply from
the humanoid pattern in the pair of thick, stubby antenna sprouting
from their heavy-browed foreheads.

Those antenna governed the extra Mordargan sense--the sense of balance,
of perspective, of distance-judgment. It made them deadly in a
hand-to-hand fight.

A couple of the Mordargans looked at him suspiciously but without overt
antagonism. Earth and Mordarga were still theoretically at peace and
Earthmen on Mordarga were, if not common, at least not totally unknown.

Mason kept his eyes to the ground and walked quickly past the
Mordargans. They were a surly, unpredictable race; he didn't want any
trouble with them now.

He tried a message to Klon Darra.

_Hey, Venusian! How's it going?_

_The telepath is due to arrive in one hour, Rick. Where are you now?_

_On the outskirts, just coming into the city. I'll be there to spring
you in plenty of time._

The main palace was visible ahead, about a mile further into the city.
Mason quickened his pace. There was time but not much.

He stepped between a pair of drunken Mordargans who were jostling each
other on the narrow street. Suddenly one of them turned and said, "Hey,
there's an Earthman. Come on, Terran. Have a drink with us?"

       *       *       *       *       *

They were wobbling unsteadily. Mason caught his breath. He had little
enough time to get to Klon Darra as it was. He calculated the speed at
which they could move and wondered if he could outrun them.

"Sorry," he snapped. "I'm too busy for a drink now."

He lowered his head and ran.

They grunted in surprise and started to chase him. He heard their heavy
feet clobbering along on the pavement. He cursed. They were probably
just trying to be sociable but this was no time for that.

"Ho, Earthman! You run fast but your legs are short!"

He glanced back. They were gaining on him. A tangle of buildings
loomed up ahead and he made for those.

A rough hand clamped around the back of his neck and dragged him
to a halt. Mason spun around and waded in without waiting for an
introduction.

His fist crashed into the stomach of the nearest Mordargan and sent him
rocking back against his companion. Mason hit him again and he started
to sag. The heavy body thudded against the pavement.

But the other Mordargan was more sober. He stepped over his companion's
unconscious body and wrapped mighty arms around Mason's middle.

The Earthman gasped and turned purple. His fists pounded at the alien
without avail.

"Had enough, Earthman?"

"You're choking me! Let go!"

"When a Mordargan invites you to drink with him, you drink!" The alien
tightened his grip and Mason felt the universe reel. He could hardly
see; his eyes were ready to pop. Against the 300 pound Mordargan he
stood no chance at all.

Suddenly the alien released him. Mason took several hesitant, dizzy
steps, sucking in breath as fast as he could. The alien's bearhug had
nearly finished him.

The big Mordargan was chuckling happily. "Earthman, you don't know how
close you came to death just then!"

"Oh, yes I do!" Mason said, rubbing his bruised body. There didn't seem
to be any obvious broken bones at any rate. But he was wasting valuable
time.

"Will you come now, Terran?"

"I--I have an appointment," Mason said. He realized the futility of
trying to run away again. There was a blaster in his pocket but it was
hardly possible to gun the creature down on a public street. "I can't
stay," he said.

"You can't? We'll see about that."

       *       *       *       *       *

The Mordargan equivalent of a bar was a long, low-ceilinged place
dimly lighted. Curious fumes of alcohol and other things drifted in
the atmosphere. Mason could see Mordargans lying prostrate here and
there, some of them totally unconscious, others contentedly sucking on
feeding-tubes.

There was no way to escape the obstinate conviviality of the alien who
had encountered him. Mason's only hope was to make a quick exit once
the Mordargan had decided he was through drinking.

"What'll you have, Terran?"

"You name it," Mason said. "I'll match you drink for drink if you'll
pay."

"Fair enough. We'll start with _gruuna_. Straight?"

"Why not?"

"Two bowls of _gruuna_," the alien bellowed.

The drinks arrived. They were a murky, slimy-looking stuff that fizzed
faintly and gave off a sour odor. Mason stared at his bowl unhappily.

"Drink up, Earthman!" The Mordargan lifted his bowl in massive fingers
and held it to his tooth-ringed mouth. He drained it in one long
slupping gulp. Mason shivered a little and picked up his own bowl.

He sipped. The stuff was as mild as molten uranium and twice as potent.
It seared its way down into his stomach and landed with a _thunk_.
Mason wondered if the drink gave off alpha particles; it was that hot.

_The things a man has to do in the name of Solar System intelligence_,
he thought.

He wondered what was happening to the Venusian. Impatience coursed
through him. He had to get away, had to reach the dungeon before the
Mordargans could interrogate Klon Darra with the telepath.

_Rick! Where are you?_ came the sudden anxious mental plea. _The
telepath's here. They'll be questioning me soon, and_....

_I'm trying to get to you_, Mason telepathed. _But I'm having trouble.
Stall if you can._

"Ready for your second bowl, Earthman?" the Mordargan asked jovially.

Mason shuddered. "I'm not through with this one," he said.

"Slow, eh? Drink it down!"

Obediently Mason lifted the drink to his lips, took another shallow
sip, winced as the ghastly stuff travelled down his gullet. Maybe
_gruuna_ was champagne to these evil-smelling so-and-sos, but it was no
drink for an Earthman.

And the telepath had arrived at the dungeon. Before long they'd know
everything.

He squinted around the edge of the bowl, eyeing the big Mordargan
speculatively. _Gruuna_ was potent stuff, he reflected; what would be
the effect if I hurled a bowlful of it into the Mordargan's eyes?

It was worth a try. In one quick motion he lowered the bowl from his
mouth, heaved its contents upward into the alien's face and started to
run. He heard a roar of pain and anger from behind.

And the door slammed shut in his face.

He hadn't figured on that. The bartender probably could control the
door manually from behind the bar and the moment Mason had broken away
the signal to shut the door had been given.

He turned. The alien was rumbling toward him, wiping his eyes,
bellowing in rage. Mason started to reach for his blaster but there
was no time. The giant crashed into him.

He fought back gamely but the Mordargan was a foot taller and 125
pounds heavier, he didn't stand a chance. Fists slammed into his
stomach and chest; he beat them off feebly, hardly able to see in the
dimness of the bar.

_Rick! Rick! Where are you?_ came the Venusian's mental voice.

But Mason was unable to answer. A barrage of mighty blows crashed in
on him and he spun, clawing to keep his balance, and started to fold
up. He heard Klon Darra saying, _Here comes the telepath now._ His head
crashed against the wall and he blanked out.

The amused laughter of the Mordargans seemed to follow him into
unconsciousness.

       *       *       *       *       *

He awoke later--hours, days, weeks, years later, it seemed. He felt
mummified.

His body ached; his eyes wouldn't focus properly and in his mouth was
the acrid, retch-inducing taste of the _gruuna_.

But aside from the pain, aside from the physical miseries he felt, he
sensed a stinging sense of personal failure. He was an agent of Solar
System Intelligence, a member of the galaxy's proudest and toughest
organization ... and he had failed to rescue his own partner.

By now the telepath had probably drained Klon Darra's mind of its
secrets, had learned that there was another Intelligence agent loose on
Mordarga, that Earth suspected the big planet of hostile intentions,
that....

It was all over. The team of Klon Darra and Rick Mason had been
considered the tops of Intelligence but that rating looked pretty
hollow now. The Venusian had gotten himself trapped on landing and
Mason had flubbed a chance to rescue him. He had wound up lying
somewhere--where?--with a hangover and a headache.

He looked around. He was in an alley and by the smell of it it was
the alley back of the bar. They had probably dumped him after the
Mordargans had finished having their fun with him.

Bright Sirius blazed high overhead. It was morning, probably getting
toward noon. The Morning After.

_Mason? Are you awake?_

The soft mental whisper jolted him like a blast of raw energy. He just
hadn't expected to hear from the Venusian.

_Where are you, Klon Darra? What's going on?_

_I'm still in the dungeon_, the Venusian said. _They'll be
interrogating me again this afternoon. Why weren't you here last
night?_

Mason went red with shame. _I ran into trouble. I'm sorry, Klon Darra.
Damned sorry._

_There's no time for feeling sorry now_, came Klon Darra's thought.
_Break our mental linkage and get off Mordarga in a hurry._

_And leave you here?_

_I don't matter. They know you're here, Rick. Leave now, while you can.
They've sent orders out to find you and bring you in. Get going!_

Mason shook his head obstinately, even though he knew the Venusian
could not see the gesture. He got to his feet and leaned against the
wall, rubbed his throbbing forehead. _I'm not leaving you here, Klon
Darra. I'll be there inside the hour and this time I mean it._

He started to walk out of the alley, groping unsteadily at the wall to
keep from falling flat on his face.

Slowly, strength returned. And purpose.

He had fumbled last night. Now, he would make it up.

       *       *       *       *       *

The main palace was a tall, lopsided structure built of a
coarse-grained granite-like stone. The noon sun struck slantwise
against the slabs which sparkled weirdly. Rick Mason stood outside and
directed a thought at the Venusian within.

_Klon Darra?_

_Yes?_

_I'm right outside the palace._

_I thought I told you to leave Mordarga at once._

_The hell with that_, Mason said in an impatient mental snap. _I'm
here. Guide me in._

_Very well. I'm in a dungeon on the third sublevel of the palace. If
you can get that far I'll direct you the rest of the way._

A Mordargan guard, his nose in the air, stood outside the main walk
that led to the palace. Mason walked past him, nodded obsequiously, and
kept going. The guard didn't even bother to notice him.

He didn't need to. He was just a decoration. But the guard at the inner
wall frowned suspiciously and said, "Where are you going, Earthman?"

"Inside." Mason's voice was tight. "I want to look around a little."

"Do you have a pass?"

"Sure. Right here in my hand." The subminiaturized blaster in his palm
flashed once, a brief bright spurt of energy that bored a pencil-thin
hole through the Mordargan's burly chest. Mason leaped forward, caught
the guard as he started to fall, and eased him to a sitting position on
a bench.

The alien's eyes were glazing. The shot had been instantly fatal.

"You wait right here," Mason told the dead Mordargan. "I'm going
inside."

He ran up the broad stone steps of the palace, entered an empty
corridor and ducked into a beckoning stairway. No one interfered with
him as he circled downward, down into the palace's depths.

On the third level downward he shot another beam of thought at the
captive Venusian.

_I'm here, Klon Darra!_

_You're a crazy fool, but I'm glad you did it_, came the reply. _Go
down the left-hand corridor about a hundred paces and turn right.
There's an alcove there and a half-stairway that descends about eight
feet. I'm in a room at the bottom of that stairway. Got all that?_

_You bet. I'm going to come in shooting--and we'll be on our way out of
here in no time._

Following the Venusian's instructions he tiptoed along the strangely
silent corridor, looking for the alcove and the half-stairway.

He found it.

The door was unguarded. Palming the tiny blaster, he went quietly down
the stairs, groped for the handle of the door.

In the instant he threw the door open the Venusian's mental voice
wailed, _Look out, it's a trap!_

But it was too late. A rolling tide of mental force came thundering out
and held him frozen.

       *       *       *       *       *

There were three people in the room. One was Klon Darra, lying on a
table, his hands and legs strapped down with metal binding.

The other two were Mordargans. One was tall and fierce-looking, with
bright white eyes glaring authoritatively from his gray face. The
other was small--no taller than an Earthman--with an abnormally large,
grotesque, swollen head. The head was light blue rather than the usual
gray and was covered with the pulsing striations of veins--the telepath.

The telepath was staring at Mason and holding him immobile.

"Now we have both the spies," said the big Mordargan in a rumbling
voice. "Well done, Senibro. Very well done indeed."

Mason struggled to move, to muster enough coordination to fire the
blaster he still held in his hand. But despite an effort that brought
sweat to his face he was totally frozen, statuelike.

The big Mordargan approached and casually relieved him of the
blaster--and his other weapons as well. Impotently, Mason glared at him.

"All right," the big man said to the telepath. "You can relax the
controls now. He's weaponless."

Mason went limp as the mental force-field blinked out around him. He
said, "What the hell is this? Who are you, and by what authority are
you holding a citizen of the Solar System prisoner here?"

The big Mordargan grinned. "I'm Levron Clargo. You may know me: I'm
head of Security in Mordarga City. I'm holding this Venusian here by
authority of my position, and you too. The Venusian was apprehended on
suspicion of spying two days ago. We interrogated him and learned he
had a partner at large on Mordarga. It was simpler to bring you here by
a ruse than go looking for you."

"Ruse? But--"

Levron Clargo smiled coldly. "We've been in possession of the mind
of your Venusian aide since Senibro, here, interrogated him late
yesterday."

Mason was stunned. The messages from Klon Darra today, the selfless
plea that Mason leave Mordarga immediately and save himself--

A ruse. A trap. A hoax.

They had used reverse psychology, played on his Earthman nature,
knowing that if they told him to leave he'd first try to rescue his
partner.

And now they had both. Mason felt like four kinds of idiot.

"Senibro, we can now interrogate both of them. But be very careful.
I want to learn the mechanism of this linkage between them. Such a
linkage would be very useful to know."

Tensely Mason waited as the mutant telepath approached him. He looked
away, avoiding the penetrating eyes. He glanced at the sleeping form
of Klon Darra on the table--Klon Darra whose mind had probably watched
helplessly as it had been manipulated to snare Mason.

"Look at me," the telepath ordered.

Mason formed a plan of action. He decided to leap on the telepath, kill
him if possible; Levron Clargo would kill him but that didn't matter.
Mason realized that if the aliens ever learned the secret of the
telepathic linkage it would be disastrous for Earth.

"Look at my eyes," the alien repeated.

Mason readied himself to spring.

_Don't do it_, whispered the mental voice of Klon Darra.

_That you, Klon?_

_Yes. The mutant has relaxed control over me. Don't jump him as you're
going to do. Let him start to probe you._

_Why?_ Mason asked. He was suspicious; Klon Darra's mental voice had
fooled him once already.

_Two minds are stronger than one, Rick. And we're linked._

Mason understood. Slowly he raised his head and stared levelly into
the brooding, hypnotically-compelling eyes of the alien telepath.

He felt the alien mind begin to enter his. Strange tendrils of thought
probed within his skull. He held his breath, waiting, knowing now that
Klon Darra had spoken the truth.

"Find anything?" the Security chief asked.

"Not yet," replied the telepath. "There's still some resistance. I--"

And Mason struck.

His mind, supported wholeheartedly by Klon Darra's, lashed out
viciously at the mind of the probing mutant. A solid red fist of mental
force crashed through the telepath's barriers. The Mordargan staggered,
arms flailing.

_Hit him again!_ Mason thought triumphantly to Klon Darra, and the
Venusian responded. Jointly they barraged the alien's mind.

"What's happening, Senibro?" asked the Security Chief.

The telepath moaned. "I--I--"

He slumped and fell heavily.

The Solar System agents gave the telepath an extra jolt, a final
thrust, to finish burning out the sensitive mutated mind.

"Senibro! Senibro!" the Security Chief roared. He fumbled for his
blaster.

But Mason had long since anticipated the clumsy move. The speed of
thought is infinite; Mason and the Venusian, working jointly, easily
immobilized the Mordargan.

The blaster dropped to the floor.

"Go easy on him," Mason said aloud to his partner. "We'll need him to
get us out of the palace."

"Right."

Together they bound the alien in a hypnotic compulsion--to conduct the
two Solarians safely out of the palace. Then Mason sent an inquisitive
mind-probe into the Mordargan's psyche.

The yield of the probe was rich--data on Mordargan military movements,
secret plans. Mason carefully memorized these things.

Then he freed the Venusian. Klon Darra smiled in gratitude.

"I was afraid you'd never get here," he said. "After they caught me I
thought we were both finished. But we fooled them."

Mason nodded. "We're still a good team, Klon Darra. A little careless
at times but who minds that as long as we bring home what we went out
here for."

He turned to the stupefied Mordargan. "Let's go, Levron Clargo."

When they returned to the ship, they would file their report.
Mission--_successful_!