Harry Harrison - Star Smashers of the Galaxy Rangers

"You hear a lot of baseball games on yoqr highpowered radio?"

"Far too many. Now go! Take these mind shields for your friends, and place this communicating device in your pocket, and once you have the cheddite projector in your possession, press this button labeled 'apritzxer' which can be translated, roughly, as OK."

"I can't read these hen tracks."

"Most annoying. Well, this one then, of the color red"

"You're on."

"Good luck!" Sally called out. "The fate of a world, perhaps of the whole known universe, rests with you." He pressed her hand, then was gone. The Garnishee stumped quickly along on their thick legs, and he had to hurry to keep up. Finally they came to a tunnel that ended in a raw dirt wall.

"Extinguish the lights," Slug-Togath ordered. "We have arrived. Only a foot of dirt remains between us and the surface. My men will now dig it away, and you will emerge. Our hopes go with you."

There was a rapid insufflating sound, and an opening appeared in the raw dirt and was quickly widened. Stars were visible in the dark sky beyond, and aided by a pushing tentacle, John squeezed through and onto the ground beyond. He was in a shallow gully, and when he peered carefully over the edge, he saw the fort, illuminated in the darkness, with the Pleasantville Eagle close by. He crawled that way, seeking what cover he could, drawn on by the welcoming cabin lights. He smiled into the darkness, knowing what kind of welcome his news would bring. Sally alive! What a greeting he would get! Then the gangway was close to hand, and after a quick look around to make sure that the coast was clear, he rushed up it and into the cabin. The door opened to the pilot's compartment, and Chuck came in carrying the cheddite projector.

"Chuck!" John called out. "I have some really tremendous news for you. But first put down that gadget because I don't want it busted."

"Yes," Chuck said, listlessly, undoubtedly still filled with grief about Sally. Was he in for a surprise!

"Now listen, guy – and I'm really on the level. About Sally. . . what are you doing?"

He looked on puzzledly as Chuck straightened up again with the submachine gun in his arms, an evil grin on his features.

"What am I going to do? I am going to kill you, filthy alien swine!"

The gun roared point blank, and darkness instantly fell.

After an unmeasurable amount of time John crept feebly back to consciousness. His head felt as though it had been caught in a destruction derby, and for quite a while, all he could do was lie there quietly and not even moan because even moaning hurt. Finally, with great reluctance he forced one eye open, then the other, and discovered that he was lying in the aisle of the plane staring up at the ceiling. Hesitantly he raised reluctant fingers to his bruised skull and touched it, which did not feel nice at all, and brought them away bloodstained. Shot to death! was his first thought, but, since he was still alive and not paralyzed, he realized that was not true. It appeared that one bullet at least had grazed his skull, he hoped without fracturing it, and had rendered him unconscious.

Bullet! When he realized what this meant full memory returned in a flash, and he groped, groaning, for the communicator from his pocket. For some unfathomable reason Chuck had shot him and escaped with the cheddite projector. The red button meant OK, so he stayed away from that one and played a tune of despair upon all the others since things definitely were not OK.

A shrill squeaking sound and a guttural growl reached his ears, and instantly, despite the triphammer of pain it produced in his head, he was on his feet and facing this new menace, hands outstretched in the judo killer position. The eerie sounds were coming from the direction of the control cabin, so crouched in the judo defense position, he stalked there on wary tiptoes, ready for anything. Though he lowered his guard, settled onto his heels, and gaped when he saw what it was that had disturbed him.

Jerry Courteney lay on the cabin floor writhing like a snake. He was on his back, his eyes closed, his fists clenched, growling like a dog, and gritting his teeth at the same time to make the chalk-on-blackboard squeaking sound. For a long moment John gazed at his writhing friend in wide-eyed astonishment, then, through the tortured synapses of his beat-up brain came the first glimmerings of understanding.

"The Lortonoi, who else!" he ejaculated, then groped in his pocket for one of the mind shields the Garnishee had given him. Kneeling, he slipped it into place on Jerry's head. The results were incredibly dramatic. Jerry instantly stopped writhing and growling, and his body relaxed, and he opened his eyes and smiled.

"Wow," he breathed, "gone at last."

"Was something trying to get into your mind and control you?" John queried.

"Brother, you are not just whistling 'Dixie'! Insidious mental tentacles of some hideously repulsive alien life form were attempting to take over my body – but I fought back! The hardest battle of my entire career. I couldn't throw them out, and finally, they must have decided they could not win because they settled for just dropping me down on the deck and closing my eyes. I was struggling away when all of a sudden they left, poof, just like that!"

"The mind shield. I put it on your head so they couldn't get through to you."

"That's pretty good, John. You wouldn't like to tell me where you got a gadget like that, would you?"

"It's a long story but first-"

"Death to the aliens!" Jerry shouted, leaping to his feet.

"Three cheers for the red, white, and blue!" He seized up the oxyhydrogen torch, lit it to flaring life and dived to the attack toward the Garnishee who were crowding into the cabin. John gave him a quick karate chop to the wrist as he went by, so the torch dropped, then another quick hack on the kidneys, which paralyzed him and dropped him back to the deck again.

"Traitor!" Jerry growled at John when he knelt to turn off the torch and struggled to raise his hands to throttle his former companion. Two more lightning karate chops paralyzed his arms as well, so John could reason with him.

"It's a complicated story, I tried to tell you, but part of it is good, like look there, see who has come to take care of you."

"Sally! Alive!" Jerry gasped as the girl pushed through the tentacles and hurried to his side. "It is indeed a miracle."

Her tender arms embraced him, and they kissed, and John writhed like a willow in the wind burned by the hot fires of jealousy, for he too, now, had to admit that, like the others, he was head over heels in love with this slim girl. He forced his eyes away from this painful necking scene and faced Slug-Togath, who had led his noisome followers as they crowded into the plane.

"Here is what I think happened," John told the alien prime minister. "The Lortonoi must have been very suspicious when Sally and I both 'vanished' mentally, and they may have gotten their wind up and had a bug in their ear."

"What do their digestion and their hearing have to do with it?" Slug-Togath asked in puzzlement.

"Will you kindly shut up and let me finish? Fearing that their dark secret had been discovered, they launched a mental attack on Chuck and Jerry here in the plane. Jerry fought back with every fiber of his being, and the most they could do was hold him down mentally while they worked their plan. But, somehow, they took over Chuck's brain. They made him grab the cheddite projector and light out of here on the double. That's when I showed up, so they made him shoot me, or at least try to. He is a crack shot, so I should be dead, but since I am not, it seems he still has a measure of control and was able to deflect their aim. Once I went down he escaped with the cheddite projector and, if you will pardon my saying so, shouldn't we be taking off after him instead of standing around beating our gums?"