Twilight Of The Gods Part 3

"Our police force just can't be beat," remarked the manager radiantly. He had come to believe that he had it all figured out.

In the meantime Hangler had regained his composure.

"You can't prove a dam thing!" he snapped insolently. "I always carry a weapon. All I came in here for was to withdraw some money."

"Yes, indeed," agreed Myers. "With a gun pointed at me."

"We'll soon enough find out the truth," interjected the inspector, and motioned to his men. Handcuffs closed tight around Hangler's wrists. "Be it as it may. just three minutes ago we received an alarm signal at the station." He checked his watch. "To be exact, let's make it almost four minutes."

Myers looked at the clock. "Four minutes ago I was still serving another customer and didn't have the faintest notion of a holdup. Marshall over here had just started on his lunch break."

"Uhum!" The manager cleared his throat with noisy reproach. He shot a most disapproving glance at the second teller. "You arrive late in the morning but make up for it by going on an early break. And probably make overtime there! I sure like that," he concluded in a sarcastic tone.

"So do I!" John Marshall smiled back, unperturbed. "That's why I came here to work for you in the first place."

The bank manager's left eyebrow shot up at an angry angle. Myers grinned. The inspector gave Hangler a shove toward the door. "Let's go. We'll have plenty of time to discuss this." He looked over to the manager. "You should be pleased to have such reliable and prompt people working for you. But for them, you would have been out a lot of money. And for you, Mr." He hesitated. "Mr. Myers, I believe it is. I'd like you to come down to the station a bit later to make a sworn statement."

The inspector relieved Myers of the holdup man's gun, then led his small army out of the bank.

"What were you saying just now?" inquired the manager, and glanced with obvious disgust at the emptied milk bottle. He seemed to share the inspector's dislike for milk.

"I simply emphasized how much I like to work for you."

"Well I'm glad to hear that!" He turned to Myers "My dear Myers, I would like to express my appreciation for your fast action. If you hadn't taken away that burglar's gun so quickly, and if you hadn't pushed the silent alarm b.u.t.tona"

"I didn't give any alarm," said Myers. "I only saw the police drive up and stop across the street and then run inside. That's when I could start acting. If anyone pushed that alarm b.u.t.ton it must have been Marshall. But no, that's impossible too." He paused, then said, "The police could not have got here that fast. When that guy pulled out his gun, it was not more than five seconds later that the police showed up. I simply can't understand the whole thing," he concluded, shaking his head.

The manager apparently felt pity for his lonely raised left eyebrow, for he provided some company for it high up on his furrowed forehead.

"Mr. Marshall," he said curtly, "was it you who gave the alarm?"

"Why, of course, Sir."

"The moment you saw the gangster point his gun at Myers?"

"No. Before that."

"Before that?" repeated the manager, confounded. His whole face looked like a question mark. "But how could you have known then what that man wanted to do? Or can you read minds?" he concluded with mockery.

Marshall nodded in silent affirmation. "It looks like it, doesn't it, sir? I knew exactly what this man intended to do. He was standing there in line, waiting for his turn. Then suddenly I was aware that he was holding a gun in his right hand, to threaten Myers. What else should I have done, for heaven's sake? I simply had to step on that alarm b.u.t.ton. That's what it is here for, after all."

"Strange, most strange indeed." The bank manage scratched his skull, right at the spot where he had a few straggly hairs left. "You must have caught the brain radiations of this man. You must have received his thought waves. Incredible! If it were not for the difference in time I would not believe a single word you say. Have you ever experienced anything like this before?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Well, reading someone else's mind." He cleared his throat. "Do you know what I am thinking of now, Marshall?"

John frowned. Again he seemed to listen attentively to an inner voice. Then his face lit up. "Oh, how marvellous, sir."

"What would be marvellous?"

"The reward for Myers and myself." Marshall's face was s.h.i.+ning with pleasure. "You were just thinking of giving us a bonus of 100 pounds, weren't you?"

The bank manager stared at him as if he had lost his mind. Then fear came into his eyes. As if trying to ward him off, he stretched both hands out against Marshall.

"That's uncanny, weird! A telepath! You are a telepath Mr. Marshall! That's exactly what I was thinking of. To give you a reward Good Lord, how could you have known?"

John Marshall smiled again and placed the empty milk bottle under the counter. He looked younger than his real age, especially when he was smiling. "I don't know, sir. At school I always knew everything better than any of the other students. I just knew the answers. Maybe because the teacher was thinking of them, But today, looking back at it, it seems that that must have been more than just guesswork."

"I am inclined to agree with you there!" mumbled the manager. "You should have yourself examined and tested by some experts, Mr. Marshall. You are a phenomenon. Incredible If I had not witnessed the whole affair, I would never believe it."

Neither did anyone else believe it, naturally. Particularly the press. Though many articles were written about the foiled bank robbery with big headlines in the daily papers-Telepath unmasks Bank robber-in reality no one took the whole story seriously. Only Jules Arnold and the boss worried about it. But what could they do, now it was too late?

That night John Marshall did not turn in as early as usual. He locked the door of his small bachelor apartment, went into the tiny kitchen, and prepared himself a snack. Then he settled down with half a bottle of brandy. He sat in his living room, which could be changed into a bedroom by pulling down a wall bed. Once again he let the events of the day pa.s.s in review in his mind.

Fred Hangler was a notorious gangster; that much he had learned from the evening newspapers John had not especially noticed him when he first entered the bank; he had been too busy with his lunch. Then, something had suddenly crept into his mind. Yes, it had crept.

a must wait until the three ahead of me are through a Could be that they will deposit some money athat teller is no problem a Point my gun at him a boss outside a holdup.

Although john had not understood entirely, he had reacted with lightning speed. There were four customers present. Therefore, the last one must be the gunman. That was only logical.

a d.a.m.n it, he is withdrawing some money now a John felt his flesh creep in horror. He could perceive so clearly the emotions of the fourth man waiting in line. Squinting slightly from behind his milk bottle, he observed the man out of the comer of one eye. Right hand in his pocket-that meant a gun, of course. Right. No doubt.

John had released the alarm.

a but this one is making a big deposit, at least! Just a few seconds now. Keep calm.a Once upon a time John had been in love with a girl. It had often happened that he told her something that she was just about to tell him. They had said, "Our souls are swinging on the same wavelength."

a I hope no one else is going to come in now a Safety catch released a Soon a Perhaps it was something like thought transference reflected John. If one was thinking very intensely, possibly the delicate energy waves in his brain were a Little stronger than usual and could be received by another person. Just the way a radio could receive the waves from a transmitter. John must be especially sensitive to thought waves; he must have a particular talent. But never had he experienced it as clearly as today. He was convinced that he could have caught all the gangster's thoughts if he had not been so excited. But the bank manager, on the other hand- how easy it had been when he had asked him to demonstrate his ability.

a and now a the gun a yes a now a And then suddenly the police had appeared. John sighed. He had spent only a short time at the police station, being interrogated. He had signed his statement, and that was the end of his part in the whole affair. Mind reading! The inspector had scoffed at the idea and said something nasty about drinking too much milk. Too much stimulation of the brain, perhaps. But then he had thanked him and spoken about extraordinary ability for swift reaction. But Fred Hangler was sitting safely behind bars!

Perhaps this extraordinary ability could be perfected with the proper kind of training, John mused. So far he had paid little attention to it, had always thought it to be coincidence. But it could be that many other people felt the same who had similar talents. Telepathy had been described in many novels and in reports of scientific experiments, but n.o.body really believed in it. Well, John thought, he had ample proof today of its existence. He would have to investigate this a bit further, make some experiments of his own to see whether he could really read minds.

Wouldn't it be something if I could.

John began to spin daydreams. He could see himself as the eighth wonder of the world, whose favours would be eagerly sought after by politicians, giants of industry and the like. They all would want to have a telepath as an advisor, to outguess their compet.i.tors' intentions. Of course, they would pay him handsomely.

How about Miss Nelson in the apartment next door? wondered John. She is home now; I saw her come in a little while ago. There is only a thin wall separating us. Thoughts can't be stopped by mere walls. I should give it a try a Suddenly he was seized by feverish excitement. Today's events had swept away any doubt he had had before. He could read thoughts, if he put his mind to it! Why had it never occurred to him before to test his ability? Now he could prove to himself that it was no mad dream or mere coincidence.

He got up and walked over to the wall.

He placed his ear against it and heard someone breathing quietly on the other side. Well, Miss Nelson must be in bed already. Maybe she was still reading, perhaps even the newspaper reports of the foiled robbery attempt at his bank. She should by now be aware what kind of hero was living next door to her.

John had never shown any special interest in Miss Nelson. She was young and pretty, and she worked as a salesgirl in some department store. They were good neighbours, nothing else, although John would not have minded if they had been a bit better acquainted.

All was quiet. John tried to concentrate. He imagined himself able to see the girl as she lay in bed. He tried to recognize her face as she looked at him a with admiration. And then a It was as if John had received an electric shock.

At first he believed it to be nothing but imagination, but then his doubts vanished. Again it seemed as if strange thoughts were creeping into his brain and pus.h.i.+ng aside his own thoughts. And then, not only could he understand these thoughts, but he began to see with the girl's eyes. He could see the book she was reading, the small bedside lamp beside her, even the lines in the book. He was able to read them clearly.

For an instant he closed his eyes. He was horrified-it was too much!-but the thoughts persisted. Now she laid down the book and went on thinking. How strange-she was thinking of him, of her neighbour john Marshall.

Good grief! What thoughts!

John blushed in embarra.s.sment like a schoolboy and stepped back from the wall. He opened wide his eyes, fell into a chair and hid his face in his hands. And then he started to laugh.

It worked! It was not a figment of his imagination! He was able to read other people's minds, if he concentrated on it. There was no longer any doubt about his gift.

But it would probably be wiser not to let anyone know about it, at least, for the time being. First he had to perfect his talent; then he could try to make money with it.

He completely forgot about the newspaper reports, which were ignored by most people but were taken seriously by a few.

But one thing he did not forget-to pay a friendly visit to Miss Nelson the next day.

Everything had happened quite differently in Miss Sloane's case.

Since her eighteenth year she had been aware that she was not what one considered a nominal young girl. She had been told so by her father, a well-known atomic physicist, who had collaborated on the development of the first nuclear weapon. He lived now in retirement in Richmond, Virginia. Three months before Anne was born, her mother had accidentally been exposed to a strong field of radiation while visiting her husband in his lab. There had been no noticeable effects at first but, then after Anne was born, her father's attention was always focused on her.

When she reached the age of eight the first signs of deviation appeared. Driven by a strong desire, Anne had managed to set in motion an electric toy train, although it was not connected to any source of current. Her ardent wish to see the toy train move had started it and kept it driving around the toy tracks in her playroom. Professor Sloane had been horrified at first, but then he had realized that the atomic radiation to which Anne had been exposed before birth must have altered the structure of her brain. Faculties that normally lay dormant in that human brain had been awakened and developed.

Anne Sloane had the power of telekinesis.

What had been suspected for a long time became certainty in the ensuing years. When she turned eighteen her father enlightened her. From then on Anne began to observe herself systematically. She constantly discovered new variations of telekinesis and then fled to Europe under an a.s.sumed name to escape the investigations of well-known scientists. Systematically and quietly she began to train herself until she mastered matter by her sheer willpower.

Now she was twenty-six years old, the same age as John Marshall.

Now she had returned to Richmond, to live with her parents. She was respected and feared by her contemporaries. The President of the United States had personally guaranteed her safety. He had every reason to do so.

Anne was sitting on the veranda, taking a sunbath, when the two gentlemen in gray suits rang the doorbell. It was not the first time that such visitors had come. It was obvious to anyone, even at a distance, that they belonged to the secret service.

But this time things were somehow different.

Their car was parked in the quiet side street in front of the Sloane residence. Another car was waiting just behind the first auto. Four men were sitting inside. They had nondescript faces, but their eyes were extremely alert. They did not take their eyes off the house into which the two gentlemen had disappeared.

Anne's mother, too, noticed at once that her two visitors were not the usual type of special agent. They radiated authority and power. They must be quite high in the hierarchy of the secret service.

"We would like to talk to Miss Anne Sloane," said one of the gentlemen, a short and young looking man with already gray hair that surrounded the bald dome of his head like a golden wreath. His gray temples heightened the impression he gave of a very peaceful person. "We have come on very important official business."

"I guess so," replied Mrs. Sloane, who by now was used to such callers. "Another order from our government, I presume. We have tried to avoid these things, not with too much success, unfortunately."

"The freedom of the whole Western world is more important than the convenience of a single individual." the man insisted solemnly. "This is indeed a most urgent matter."

"My daughter is outside on the veranda. Will you follow me, please?"

The second visitor looked older but radiated such kindness and joviality that one felt like addressing him right away as "uncle." He bowed courteously to Mrs. Sloane, and both gentlemen walked behind her, through the back of the house.

Anne was rather displeased when her mother announced the visitors. But as soon as she peered into the friendly yet firm eyes of her callers, her resistance melted away. Instinctively she knew that she was not dealing with run of the mill agents.

"You have left me alone for a little while," she remarked, as if in grat.i.tude. She pointed to two chairs next to the small table near her. "Won't you have a seat, gentlemen and then tell me what your trouble is? In the meantime my mother will get you something cold to drink."

She did not expect any introductions, for all her secretive visitors were called either Smith or Miller, or perhaps Jones. Quite frequently she had been able to a.s.sist the FBI or similar inst.i.tutions with her unusual faculties. In return she enjoyed the protection of the government.

The younger of the two pulled up a chair and sat down.

"My name is Allan D. Mercant, in case that should mean anything to you. I am chief of the Intentional Intelligence Agency and also Chief of Intentional Defence. May I introduce to you Colonel Kaats, Chief of the Inner Defence, a special department of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

Anne half-closed her eyes. She was full of apprehension.

"I am very pleased to meet you, gentlemen, but isn't it rather unusual that you of all people should go to the trouble-"

"No trouble at all Miss Sloane, but a genuine pleasure to finally meet our trusted collaborator in person. We have beard a great deal about you." Mercant moved his chair so that be could look directly into Anne's eyes. Kaats sat close to him. Mercant looked benevolently at the young girl "But you can rest a.s.sured that this is not just a courtesy call."

"I thought not." She nodded lightly.

"We are in a predicament, and we need your help," urged Kaats.

"I am sorry to hear that." Anne looked up at the blue sky and wondered if she would ever again be as happy, gay and unburdened as she had been in her childhood. "Yes, I am listening."

Mercant cleared his throat. "The best thing will be to start right from the beginning. This will give you an idea what has happened and why we require your help. We are not confronted here by the usual problem. We are not searching for some spy or some other enemy agent. We are searching for something, much more vital-peace for the world."

"You remember that once before I made the attempt-"

"Yes. I know about that. You wanted to force the big powers to destroy their atomic a.r.s.enals. That attempt was bound to fail, for force can be met only by some other force. But somebody else accomplished it. You know who that is, I a.s.sume. Perry Rhodan."

Yes. She had heard of him.

"Is your visit in any way connected with Perry Rhodan?"

"Yes. You are familiar with the story. Perry Rhodan, former major of our young s.p.a.ce force, was leader of the first expedition to the moon. He was accompanied by Captain Reginald Bell, Lieutenant Eric Manoli and Captain Clark G. Fletcher. On her return flight to earth, the Stardust did not land as planned in Nevada but in the Gobi Desert. It seems that Rhodan found something on the moon that provided him with tremendous power. In the meantime we have learned that he encountered an extraterrestrial s.p.a.ces.h.i.+p that had made a forced landing on the moon. These aliens have at their disposal the products of a technology that is advanced beyond the wildest imagination. At the time when war threatened to break out between East and West, Rhodan intervened in the conflict, calling himself the Third Power. He succeeded in keeping both enemas from annihilating each other. Certainly a most commendable enterprise; this much must be admitted."

"But at the same time this demonstration of power represents a tremendous potential danger. just imagine, Miss Sloane-somewhere on Earth there exists a power capable of wiping out all the nations of this world. Perry Rhodan, unfortunately, is today in a position whereby he can impose his will on us. With the a.s.sistance of these aliens, he managed to foil to a certain degree the expeditions to the moon that were later undertaken together by us and the Asiatic Federation. His might already extends, therefore, out into s.p.a.ce. There is now such a concentration of power in the Gobi Desert as is hard to visualize. They are building s.p.a.ces.h.i.+ps and producing weapons, and no one on Earth can prevent it. Invisible energy screens extend around their installations, which are safe even from atomic bombs. In addition to that, they can manipulate gravity and control men's minds at a certain distance."

Mercant grew silent. He looked at Anne Sloane, full of hope. The girl seemed to ponder his last words.

"I must admit, this seems like a rather extraordinary and perhaps painful situation, but not menacing. Why should Rhodan be considered a danger to the human race? Didn't his intervention prove rather the contrary, that he had our best interests at heart, when he prevented an atomic holocaust?"

"Are you so sure of his motives?" countered Mercant. "No one really knows what is going on in the Gobi Desert. So far Rhodan refuses any explanation for his intervention. Still, his presence is of a definite advantage to us, inasmuch as it has pushed a war between East and West into the realm of fantasy. Even the most ardent enemies become allies when they are faced by a still mightier common foe. We are now cooperating with the secret services of the Asiatic Federation and the Eastern Bloc. But so far we have not met with any success. This is where you come in, Miss Sloane!"

"What am I supposed to do?" inquired Anne. "You know yourself the limitations of my capabilities. And besides, I haven't the faintest idea how this energy screen will react when someone tries to pierce it with thought waves. And that I will have to do if I want to accomplish my task in a telekinetic way. Really, Mr. Mercant, I don't have the slightest notion how to proceed."

"You will naturally receive your instructions from, us," declared Mercant, considering her words a partial consent. "We have even worked out a detailed plan of procedure for you. Our final aim is to render harmless Perry Rhodan and his superior weapons."

"Why must you do that? He has not done any harm to you. And isn't Rhodan a citizen of the United States?"

"He was!" emphasized Kaats. "He renounced his citizens.h.i.+p, and he has been deprived of all his rights. Perry Rhodan is the enemy of mankind."

Anne looked up again toward the sky. The sun had advanced and now approached the top of a big elm tree in her backyard. Soon shadows would fall onto the veranda.

"The enemy of mankind?" pondered Anne. "I have always imagined him to be somebody quite different-the man who prevented an atomic war."