Man of Many Minds by E. Everett Evans (ebook reader with android os TXT) 📖

have your best physicians examine that body. Have 'em use X-rays and fluoroscopes, rather than an autopsy. I'm not entirely convinced he was a human being."

"What?" There was incredulity in that question. "What gives you that idea?"

"Sorry, sir, I can't give you my reasons just now," Hanlon's face flushed, and his eyes were appealing. "It isn't that I don't trust you, sir, but there's one secret I feel shouldn't be told now. Maybe later—and if I do tell it to anyone outside of SS men, you will be the first—you deserve that."

"Right, sir. I didn't mean to prowl," the admiral showed no resentment, much to Hanlon's relief. "Your orders go, as I said."

He touched a stud on his desk and when the doctor's face appeared on the screen, gave the necessary orders. "Look carefully to see if the internal arrangement of bones and organs is human—but do not cut without specific orders."

"What about the emperor, sir?" Hanlon asked. "You've undoubtedly formed some sort of opinion about him."

"He was a wonderful soldier and executive as a young and as a middle-aged man," Hawarden said thoughtfully and, Hanlon sensed, sadly. "It was his grandfather who pulled the original coup that made this planet into an empire with himself as first emperor. His son, the second emperor, was also a very good co-ordinator, and solidified the empire status. The present emperor went into the army at sixteen, and rose rapidly through sheer merit rather than because his father was emperor. All historians agree on that. Just before he reached thirty he was in full command. He was thirty-six when his father died, and he became the third emperor."

"Then you think he may be back of this whatever-it-is?"

"No," the admiral shook his head. "Somehow I can't quite feel that way. During his first years as emperor he was one of the most co-operative of all Planetary rulers within the Federation."

"What about his Prime Minister ... and by the way, what was his name? I never heard him called anything but 'His Highness'?"

"His name was Gorth Bohr. He seems to have appeared from nowhere almost overnight—as an important personage, I mean. We've traced him back, and he came to Simonides about fourteen years ago, from Sirius Three. He's been Prime Minister for about ten years and it has been noticeable that he has gained more and more power during the past few years, as the emperor has been failing both physically and mentally."

"I wonder ..."

"Yes?"

"D'you suppose that failing health and mind could have been caused, instead of natural?"

The admiral was plainly taken aback. "What? Caused?"

Hanlon nodded. "Just that. From what little I know of His Highness he was just the kind to do a thing like that—and capable of it, too." He sank back in deep thought for some time, as did Hawarden. They were interrupted by a buzzer from the desk. The admiral sat up quickly and switched on the intercom. "Yes?"

"Bohr certainly was not a human being," the doctor reported, and Hanlon could see the surprise and wonder on his face in the screen. "There are structural differences so far removed from ours that they could not possibly be Homo Sapiens."

"Any idea where he came from?" Hanlon asked, and the admiral relayed the question.

"Never saw anything like it before, and I've just made a quick search through all my books here that contain pictures and diagrams of the races of which we know."

Hanlon shook his head in resignation and Hawarden, after thanking the doctor and giving orders for the disposition of the Prime Minister's body, disconnected.

"Is it too late to get an audience with the emperor?" Hanlon sat erect.

The admiral glanced at his wrist chronom. "Pretty late, but I'll see."

He had just reached for a switch when his call buzzer sounded, and when he activated the screen the planetographer reported, "We can't find any such system on our charts."

Hanlon's spirit sank. "Keep looking!" he ordered. "Check with the astronomers. It's somewhere around there—I just came from that planet. The sun is hot—looks like Sol from inside Venus's orbit, although I don't think it's as large as Sol."

Hawarden then put through his call to the imperial palace, his position as local head of the I-S C getting him fast service. After some haggling with the emperor's secretary, and his insistence that it was a matter of the utmost importance that could not wait until morning, he was finally told His Majesty would see him.

"Got it," Hawarden rose. "Come along."

Hanlon started toward the door, then looked down at his torn and dirty clothing. "I'm not very presentable."

"We can get you a uniform from the barracks."

Hanlon thought swiftly. "No, I'd better not chance it, although I'd sure like to."

The admiral thought a moment, then stepped back to his desk and pressed a stud. "Roberts, come in here."

A young man almost exactly Hanlon's size, wearing civilian clothes, came into the office. Hawarden grinned. "Those do?"

The SS man smiled back. "Swell."

"Strip," the admiral commanded the astonished clerk. "We need your clothes in a hurry for this man. Quick," as the young man hesitated.

Hanlon was already removing his own. "I'll give you a hundred credits for them, Roberts, but this is prime urgent."

The other laughed then, and started pulling off his suit as fast as he could. "A hundred'll more than buy me a new one—it's a good bargain."

The exchange was quickly made. Hanlon gave the clerk his money, then he and the admiral hurried to the palace, where they were ushered without delay toward the emperor's private study.

"Watch me fairly closely," Hanlon whispered as they were walking down the hall. "If I shake my head, he's lying."

Admiral Hawarden's eyes widened, and though he said nothing, he was thinking, "This is certainly the most amazing young man I've ever met. Where does the SS get 'em?"

They had barely entered the study when a door on the far side of the room opened, and the emperor came in, leaning on the arm of an aide. He sat down heavily behind the ornate desk.

"Well well well," he barked pettishly. "What's all this about, sir? What's so important you have to get me out of bed?"

"I am most sorry to have put Your Majesty to such inconvenience," Admiral Hawarden said diplomatically, "but you will soon see that this is, indeed, most urgent. It is also very secret, and I respectfully request we be permitted to speak with you alone."

The emperor waved his hand impatiently, and the aide retired from the room.

Admiral Hawarden set a small box on the desk and turned on a switch. "Just a portable spyray block," he apologized.

"I know, I know," came the exasperated voice. "Get on with it, man, I'm tired."

"Permit me to introduce George Hanlon, of the Corps. We have, first, a bit of sad news to give Your Majesty, and then some questions we most urgently request you to answer as fully as you can."

The emperor did not look pleased at this suggestion that he be questioned, but said nothing.

"Your Prime Minister, Gorth Bohr, was killed a few hours ago, Sire."

"What?" The emperor sat upright, his face showing the utmost incredulity, but Hanlon's mind-probing had prepared him for the reaction, so he was not surprised to note neither dismay nor regret.

For the monarch suddenly sank back into his chair, and a long, loud suspiration of relief came from him. He closed his eyes and his face finally relaxed a bit. Suddenly he sat bolt upright. "Are you sure?" he barked.

"Positive," the admiral assured him. "The body is at Base, and has been for several hours."

"How did he die?"

"He was stung to death by bees, Sire," Hanlon answered.

"Bees?" incredulously.

"That's right, Sire. He and three of his men were attacked by a swarm of bees in one of the basement rooms of his palace, and died within minutes."

The emperor was silent for moments, mind roiling. Then he shook his head as though almost not daring to believe this news.

"It may sound strange, Hawarden," he said at last, "but I do not think I was ever as glad of anything in my life as I am of this. He was an evil thing, though I did not even begin to suspect it until years after I appointed him my Minister. By the time I felt sure, it was too late. He had ... gotten some sort of a hold over me ... I no longer seemed to have a mind or will of my own any more."

The admiral risked a glance at Hanlon, who nodded agreement.

"Do you know what he was planning, Your Majesty?"

"Planning? Planning? You mean something else beyond ruling Simonides through me, or possibly supplanting me entirely?"

"I'm afraid he was, Sire. Did you know he was secretly building a great war fleet on another planet?"

There was an almost-imperceptible pause before the answer was barked out. "Nonsense, sir. That I can't believe!"

Hanlon shook his head. The emperor was lying now. Why? Was he part—perhaps head—of the plot?

His mind-probing had not yet reached an answer to those important questions. They would have to question him skillfully to make him think of the things Hanlon so desperately needed to know.

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