Brain World

They wound up in the spaceship’s lounge and sank into seats. The two dogs settled to the floor.

“What now?” Dorn said. “Where do you think they might be?”

“Damned if I know,” Ronny growled. “If they tried any tricks they might already be dead. When I was here last, the Dawnmen had a small complex of very ancient buildings, that looked as though they were of religious nature, temples and pyramids. On top of the largest pyramid was an altar. I didn’t see it in use, but the captain of the Pisa and Baron Wyler and Fitzjames did. The Dawnmen used an obsidian knife to open the chest cavity of the victims so they could pull out the heart. The whole crew of Wyler’s yacht went that way.”

“Good heavens,” Lee Chang said in feminine protest.

Dorn was scowling at Ronny. He said, “Do they do that to all strangers?”

“No. They didn’t do it to me, nor Wyler and Fitzjames. Wyler’s crew had attempted to purloin some of the Dawnman devices. But they warned us to leave. There is nothing in the rituals by which they live to provide for intercourse with strangers.”

And at that moment a voice entered into the mind of each of them.

You are correct, Ronald Bronston; there is no place in our society for the stranger. We warned you not to return to our worlds and to warn off your race. But instead, you have come again and, through your informing others of our location, thev came as well.

Ronny said, in protest, “I came, with my friends here, only to warn the others away, to prevent them from antagonizing you.”

Nevertheless, you came, and must bear the consequences. As must the others. They attempted, in their arrogance, to confound us, to rob us of discoveries we made aeons past. But we are aware that if we released our technology to other life forms they would then be in a position to confront us and, possibly, one day to destroy us. Now, they cannot, for our technology is the most advanced of which we know in the whole galaxy.

Beyond that, neither your home planets, nor that of these other strangers, are ready for the advances which we have made long since. If you were, you would have developed them yourselves. Let me dip into your minds for an example in your own history. You had a primitive early man in the early millenia of your race. The Neanderthal. Would you have turned over to a Neanderthal a highly powered, internal combustion vehicle of the type which I can discern in your minds, and taught him to drive it? Had you, he most likely would have killed someone, and probably himself.

Dorn Horsten said, “What do you plan to do with us?”

It is now out of the hands of we whom you once called the Brahmins of the Dawnworlds. To carry on the similes of your Academician Count Felix Fitzjames, there are three ancient castes on our worlds, the Brahmins, whom I represent, the Kshatriyas, who were originally our ruling class and warriors, and the Sudras, the working class. It was long ago that these castes were formed, long, long ago, but still we keep our ancient traditions.

“What do you mean, it’s out of your hands, out of the hands of you Brahmins?” Lee Chang wavered.

You will be turned over to the Kshatriyas for their annual ceremonies.

Chapter Seventeen

“What annual ceremonies?” Ronny demanded.

But suddenly all three realized that the intelligence that had been communicating with them telepathically had withdrawn. They stared at each other, aghast.

Through all this, the two dogs had been stretched out on the floor, Boy growling low in his throat, all but inaudibly. Now he said, “What was all that, Boss? I seemed to be hearing somebody talking—in my head.”

“Me too,” Plotz said, a worried whine in her voice.

“We all heard it,” Ronny told them. “They can evidently communicate, no matter what the language, with any intelligent life form.”

“What do we do now?” Dorn said.

“What can we do?” Ronny said. “All we can do is wait and see what happens.”

LeeChang said, not very convincingly, “I could probably pilot this spacecraft. We could take off and rejoin the Alexander Hamilton.”

“No,” Ronny told her. “I doubt if they’d let us. Besides, our mission isn’t finished. Somehow, we’ve got to keep them from sending out their fleet to polish off United Planets.”

He took his communicator from his pocket, activated it and said into the screen, “Ronald Bronston, calling Captain John Fodor of the Space Forces Cruiser Alexander Hamilton.”

The captain’s face faded in immediately. “Supervisor Bronston,” he said. “Are you all right?”

“We’re still alive,” Ronny said laconically. “We’ve made contact with the people we came to see. Are you okay, up there?”

“Yes. Everything is routine.”

“Wizard. Carry on, then. We’ll contact you, as arranged, within another six hours.”

He switched off the communications device and thought about it for a minute, then switched it back on again and flicked a stud. “Ronald Bronston, calling Irene Kasansky” he said.

Irene’s face faded in and when she saw who it was turned apprehensive. “Ronny,” she said. “Are you three all right?”

“Well, so far we’re still with it. Is the old man available?”

Ross Metaxa’s face, tired and moist of eye as always, took the place of Irene’s in the small screen. He looked at Ronny questioningly.

Ronny said, “It looks bad, sir. Briefly, the others got here first. We’re in their ship. They’re missing. We’ve been contacted by one of the, uh, Brahmins. It doesn’t look as though they’re going to let us go this time.”

“What are their plans for United Planets?”

“I don’t know.”

“Should I recommend to the President that the Space Forces fleet be mobilized?”

“Certainly not yet. Not while we’re still here and working on it. I told Fodor that if they did us in, he should recommend it, but it won’t do any good. The last time I was here I saw one of their spacecraft. It was a hundred times the size of the largest spacecraft we’ve got. And it was even able to turn itself invisible. We’re scheduled to be turned over to their soldier caste for something they call their annual ceremonies. It doesn’t sound so good.”

“All right, Ronny,” his superior sighed wearily. “Do what you can.” His face faded.

The three stared at each other some more without words. There was nothing to say.

Lee Chang said finally, “Should I check out the ship’s galley? We could eat something before whatever comes next.”

“I couldn’t eat anything,” Ronny said.

“I could,” Boy said, giving the Chinese girl a couple of wags. “I can always eat something.”

“Chowhound,” Plotz said, with the nearest thing to a sneer she could put over, but she too got up to follow Lee Chang.

But it was then that a voice came into all of their minds. The Brahmin’s had been calm, gentle, and in accord with the fact that he was a scholar. This voice had a ring of command.

You will leave the space vessel.

Ronny looked at Lee Chang and then Dorn and came to his feet. He said, “I doubt that disobeying would make much sense. Not to speak of physically resisting.”

They stood, too, wordlessly, and followed him, the two dogs coming along behind.

Boy growled, “By the way, Boss, that conditioning of mine, not to bite people, applies only on Einstein.”

Ronny said, “Well, don’t try it.”

At the top of the gangplank he looked out. Below were nine Dawnmen. Eight of them were drawn up in a squad, the other, obviously in command, was out in front. All were somewhat over six feet in height and all in the