Читать книгу Parasite Planet - John Russell Fearn - Страница 9

CHAPTER FOUR

VIONA MEETS MEXONE

The home of the little man, whose name appeared to be Cesnon, was massive, well-kept, and on the edge of the town. And yet there was simplicity, and the three from Earth could not help but notice that there was no sign of television or scientific gadgets, even though there was an instrument in the lounge that was probably a radio.

A meal of strange food, but tasty enough, was provided by well-trained and unobtrusive servants, then with the night drawing in, Cesnon led the way into the lounge with its big if rather archaic fuel fire, and here made introductions to his quiet and smiling wife and twelve-year-old daughter.

“I think,” Abna said, glancing toward the Amazon as she reclined in a deep armchair, “that it would be better if I gave our friend here the gift of our own language—metaphysi­cally, of course—then we can save time and energy. I’ll just ask him if he has any objection.”

The gibberish went forth for a moment or two between Abna and Cesnon, the wife and daughter listening in amazement and exchanging glances—then finally Cesnon spread his hands in a definite gesture of acceptance of Abna’s proposition.

“He’s agreeable,” Abna said, as the Amazon and Viona glanced at him. “Won’t take very long.”

In a matter of five minutes it was over and the mental transference was complete. Abna relaxed again and smiled.

“You understand now?” he asked quietly.

“Yes…I understand.” Cesnon hesitated for a moment. “You have the powers of a god, my friend, or else of a devil. With the gift of mental compulsion which you possess you could—”

“I could do much,” Abna acknowledged. “That, however, is not the point at issue. My wife and daughter here—and I myself—have come from a far distant planet, as I explained to you earlier in your own language. What we wish to know is why we found your world petrified, and what brought about its return to normal.”

Cesnon looked broodingly into the fire for a long time before answering; then he gave a little sigh.

“Frankly, friend Abna, I have not the least idea what caused the petrifaction—and as far as I have been able to gather since recovery nobody else seems to know the reason either.”

“Not even your scientists?” the Amazon questioned, surprised, and Cesnon glanced towards her.

“Our science is not of a very high order, madam. Certainly none of our scientists were able to determine the nature of the creeping paralysis which finally overtook us.”

“Then it did give a warning?” Viona put in. “It wasn’t something that happened all of a sudden?”

“We knew for several—er—weeks that something strange was happening. Clocks were running slow; there was an unprecedented spell of cold weather, even though this is our summer, and almost everybody complained of a form of cramp. A sort of paralysis. But none of our scientists or medical faculty could account for it—then suddenly we experienced a blackout.”

Abna frowned and then looked at the Amazon. She did not seem to notice him. There was abstracted dis­tance in her violet eyes.

“I had rather hoped,” Cesnon finished, “that my son might have been able to explain things, but apparently even he is at a loss.”

“Your son?” Viona repeated.

“Yes, we have two children—Adza here, and Mexone. Mexone is twenty-three and very interested in the possibility of producing television. He is employed at the experimental scientific labora­tories in the city.”

“Possibility of television?” the Amazon repeated. “You mean you haven’t established it yet?”

“No, there are many difficulties.” Cesnon gave an apologetic smile. “I know we must seem a terribly dense-minded people to you, who are obviously from a civilization thousands of years ahead of us, but there it is!”

There was silence for a moment; then it was the Amazon who spoke.

“We can possibly help you quite a lot to streamline your civilization, Cesnon, since that is our purpose. We are known as the Cosmic Crusaders, and our objective is to give a helping hand to those civilizations less developed than ours.”

“A worthy and noble motive, madam,” Cesnon smiled.

“But,” the Amazon added, “before we bestow knowledge, we have to be sure it will be properly used.”

“You have nothing to fear from us. We are a peaceful people.”

“I’m prepared to believe that, but I am left wondering if you have neighbors who are also peaceful. I’m referr­ing now to the paralysis that overtook you. By no stretch of scientific imagination can I believe it was a natural cosmic occurrence. It defies all normal laws. But it could be induced by scientific means of a high order.…”

Cesnon was looking bewildered, and Abna and Viona exchanged a puzzled glance, then looked at the Amazon. As usual, her keen mind was ferreting for underlying scientific causes.

“Do you know anything of your neighbor worlds?” she asked. “You have telescopes?”

“Of a sort.” Cesnon smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid they are not very powerful. The worlds near us reveal nothing in any case because they are cloud-blanketed.”

“There is a further world near your sun where there is but little cloud interference. What of that one?”

“A moment,” Abna put in. “Remember, Vi, that that world so close to the sun might not be visible telescopically because of the glare of the solar disk.”

In the brief silence that followed there were sounds in the hall outside; then in a moment or two a young man entered. He hesitated in obvious surprise, only coming forward when Cesnon addressed him in his own language.

“My son, Mexone,” Cesnon explained, and made the introductions as well as he could considering the language difficulty.

When he came to shaking hands with Viona, Mexone lingered for quite a time holding her hand. Nor did Viona withdraw it. She had already decided that Mexone was a good-looking young man—with the black hair which seemed to predominate on this world—keenly intelligent features, and thoughtful brown eyes. Then at last he relaxed his grip and smiled apologetically.

“I should think Mexone, as a scientist of this planet, ought to be able to help quite a lot,” Viona said quickly. “But the difficulty is the language. Father, can you do any­thing?”

“Mentally transfer the language knowledge?” Abna asked. “Of course I can: it’s up to Mexone. Ask him if he’s agreeable, Cesnon.”

The usual gibberish followed and it ended by Mexone nodding earnestly. It crossed the Amazon’s mind for a moment that the young man was not so anxious to know the language for the sake of that alone as to be able to converse normally with Viona. Whatever his reasons, he submitted calmly enough to the impassive, hypnotic control of Abna as he mentally transferred all knowledge of the English language into the waiting mind.