Rescue Mission

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?"