Warlord of Kor by Terry Carr (best management books of all time TXT) 📕

have been using it since before they developed telepathy.”

“Couldn’t there have been direct contact between the Hirlaji and the Outsiders back when the Hirlaji were just evolving out of the beast stage?”

“There must have been,” said Rynason. “The Temple rituals are conducted in an even older form of their language than most remembered—a proto-language that was kept alive only by the priest caste, because the machine had been set to respond to that language.”

“But aren’t primitive languages usually composed of simple, basic words and concepts? How well could they communicate in such a language?”

“Not very well,” Rynason said. “Which would explain why the machine seemed to make mistakes—clumsiness of language. So the Outsiders, maybe, left the machine when they pulled out, but they set it to respond to the Hirlaji language because our horsefaced friends were beginning to build a civilization of their own and the Outsiders thought they’d leave them some guidance….” He stopped for a moment, remembering that first linkage with Horng, and Tebron’s memories. “The Hirlaji called them the Old Ones,” he said.

“And that order to Tebron … about the other race that they would meet someday. That was based on Outsiders observations.”

“I wonder when the Outsiders were on Earth,” Rynason said. “Sometime after we’d started our own rise, certainly. Maybe in ancient Mesopotamia, or India. Or later, during the Renaissance?”

“The time doesn’t matter, does it?” Mara said. “They touched down on Earth, took note of us, and left. Somehow they thought we were going to develop more rapidly than we did.”

“Probably before the Dark Ages,” Rynason said. “Maybe they didn’t see that thousand-year setback coming….” He stopped, and stood up in the low passageway among the ancient circuitry. “So here we are, second-guessing the Outsiders. And outside, their proteges have disintegrators probably left by the Outsiders, and they’re just waiting for us to try to get out.”

“Our new-found knowledge isn’t doing us much good, is it?” she said.

He shook his head slowly. “When I was still on the secondary senseteach units I met Rene Malhomme for the first time. My father worked the spacers, so I don’t even remember what planet this was on. But I remember the night I first saw Rene—he was speaking from the top of a blue-lumber pile, shouting about the corporations that were moving in. He was getting all worked up about something, and several people in the crowd were shouting back at him; I stopped to watch. All of a sudden six or seven men moved in from somewhere and dragged him down from where he was standing. There was a fight—people were thrown all around. I hid till it was over.

“When the crowd finally cleared, there was Rene. His clothes were torn, but he wasn’t hurt. Every one of the men who had attacked him had to be carried away; I think one of them was dead. Rene stood there laughing; then he saw me hidden in the darkness and he took me home. He told me that when he’d been younger he’d worked his way all the way in to Earth, and studied some of the cultures there. He’d learned karate, which was an ancient Japanese way of fighting.”

Rynason took a deep breath. “He said everything a person learns will be useful someday. And I believed him.”

“A nice parable,” Mara said. “We could use him against the Hirlaji, though.”

Rynason was silent, thinking. If they could only catch the aliens off guard … but of course they couldn’t, now. He let his eyes wander aimlessly along the circuitry surrounding them. Tell me, old Kor, what do we do now?

After a moment his eyes narrowed; he reached up and traced a connection with his fingers, back to the front, toward the altar. It led directly to … the speaker!

The voice of Kor.

And if he could interrupt that connection, put his own voice through the speaker, out through the altar….

“Mara, we’re going out. I’ve found my own brand of karate for our friends out there.”

He helped her to her feet. She moved somewhat painfully, her broken left arm hanging stiffly at her side, but she made no protest.

“We’ve got to be fast,” he said. “I don’t know how well this will work—it depends on how much they trust their clay-footed god today.” Quickly, he outlined his plan. Mara listened silently and nodded.

Then he set to work. It was largely guesswork, following those intricate alien connections, but Rynason had seen this part of such machines before. He found the penultimate point at which the impulses from the brain were translated into sound and broadcast through the speaker. He disconnected this, his torn fingers working awkwardly on the delicate linkages.

“Ready?”

Mara was just inside the narrow passage behind the altar. She nodded quickly.

Rynason twisted himself so that he could speak directly into the input of the speaker. He raised his voice to approximate the thin, high sounds of the Hirlaji language.

Remain motionless. Remain motionless. Remain motionless.

The command burst out upon the altar room of the Temple, shattering the silence. The Hirlaji turned in surprise to the altar—and stood still.

Remain motionless. Remain motionless.

It was the phrase he had heard the machine use so often to Tebron, king priest leader of all Hirlaj. It had meant something else then, but the proto-language of the Hirlaji had no precise meanings; given by itself, it seemed to mean precisely what it said.

“All right, let’s go out!” Rynason said, and the two of them broke from behind the altar. The Hirlaji stood completely still; several of those that Rynason had dropped with his stunner had recovered consciousness, but they made no move either. Rynason and the girl ran right through the quiet aliens; only a few of them turned shadowed eyes to look at them as they passed. They made the outside colonnade in safety, and paused there.

“They may see through this in a minute,” Rynason said. “Don’t wait for me—get out of the city!”

“You’re not coming?”

“I won’t be too far behind. Get going!”

She hesitated only a moment, then hurried down the broad levels of the Temple steps. Rynason watched her to the bottom, then turned and re-entered the altar room.

Rynason went quickly among them, taking their weapons. Most of them made no effort to stop him, but a few tightened their grips on the disintegrators and he had to pry those thick fingers from the weapons, cursing to himself. How long would they wait?

There were fourteen of the disintegrators. They were large and heavy; he couldn’t hold them all at once. He dumped five of them outside the altar room and returned to disarm the rest of the aliens. Sweat formed beads on his forehead, but he moved without hesitation.

Another of the Hirlaji tightened his grip when Rynason began to take the weapon from him. He looked up, and saw the quiet eyes of Horng resting on him. The leathery grey wrinkles which surrounded those eyes quivered slightly, but otherwise he made no movement. Rynason dropped his gaze from that contact and wrested the weapon away.

As he started to move on to the next, Horng silently dipped his massive head to one side. Rynason felt a chill go down his back.

In a few more minutes he had disarmed them all. He set the last three disintegrators on the stone floor of the colonnade—and a movement in the distance caught his eye. It was on the south wall of the city; two men stood for a moment silhouetted against the Flat, then disappeared into the shadows. In a moment, another man appeared, and he too dropped inside the wall.

So Manning had already sent the men in. The mob was unleashed.

Rynason hesitated for a moment, then turned and went quickly back into the altar room. Mara’s radio was there; he lifted it by its strap and took it with him out to the colonnade.

He could see the Earthmen moving through the streets now, darting from wall to wall in the gathering darkness of evening. In a short time it would be full night—and Rynason knew that these men would like nothing better than to attack in the dark.

He warmed the radio and opened the transmitter.

“Manning, call off your dogs. I’ve disarmed the Hirlaji.”

The radio spat static at him, and for several seconds he thought his signal hadn’t even been picked up. But at last there was a reply:

“Then get out of the Temple. It’s too late to stop this.”

“Manning!”

“I said get clear. You’ve done all you can there.”

“Damn it, there’s no need for any fighting!”

Manning’s voice sounded cold even in the faint reception of the hand-radio. “That’s for me to decide. I’m running this show, remember.”

“You’re running a massacre!” Rynason shouted.

“Call it what you like. Mara says they weren’t so docile when you broke in.”

Rynason’s mind raced; he had to stall for time. If he could get Manning to stop those men until they cooled down….

“Manning, there’s no need for this! Didn’t she tell you that the altar is just a computer? These people haven’t had anything to do with the Outsiders since before they can remember!”

The radio carried the faint sound of Manning’s chuckle. “So now they’re people to you, Lee? Or are you one of them now?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Lee, my boy, you’re sounding like an old horsefaced nursemaid. You linked minds with them, and you say you were practically a Hirlaji yourself when you went into that linkage. Well, I’m not so sure you ever came out of it. You’re still one of them!”

“Is that the only reason you can think of that I might have for wanting to prevent a massacre?” Rynason said icily.

“If they tried to revolt once, they’ll try it again,” Manning said. “We’ll crush them now.”

“You think that will impress the Council? Slaughtering the only intelligent race we’ve found?”

“I’m not playing to the Council!” Manning snapped. “I’ve got these men following me, and I’ll listen to what they want!”

Rynason stared at the microphone for a moment. “Are you sure you aren’t afraid of your own mob?” he said.

“We’re coming in, Lee. Get out of there or we’ll cut you down too.”

“Manning!”

“I’m switching off.”

“Not quite yet. There’s one more thing, and you’d better hear this one!”

“Make it fast,” Manning said. His voice sounded uninterested.

“If any of your boys try to come in, I’ll stop them myself. I’ve got the disintegrators, and I’ll use them.”

There was silence from the radio,