Morah was, if anything, more imposing than ever, standing alone in the center of that platform. I could see his weird eyes survey both the crowd and the positions of his troops. There was an air of tense expectation in the crowd, as if everyone knew that something, something explosive and, perhaps, evil, was about to begin. Even Zala seemed to sense it and feel that way. As for me, hell, I was a member of the party in good standing—I could hardly wait to see how the big boys operated here. Things had been dull for too long.
Finally, Morah seemed satisfied. I suspected that he was delaying things, letting everybody become as nervous and jumpy as possible, for good, psychological reasons. This was a tenth of the town, including almost all the bigwigs, and they were going to be the example.
“Citizens of Bourget,” he began, his voice tremendously amplified and echoing off the walls, lending an additional alien quality to his presence. “Thank you for coming. Charon has long valued Bourget and its industrious people who are so valuable to the whole of the planet for their products. We deeply regret these measures, and I, Yatek Morah, Chief of Security, wish to assure those of you who are loyal citizens that you have nothing to fear today. In fact, I am here precisely because there is a threat to your peace and well-being, a threat you did not know existed but one that might consume you should it go unchecked. After today enemies both of Bourget and of Charon will be unmasked, exposed, and dealt with, and we can all feel safer because of it.”
He paused a moment to let that sink in. I found the softening up very impressive and quite good human psychology. Of course, very soon would come the still-hidden knife, but these were simple people and most of them probably didn’t know that yet.
“I come today to tell you of treason,” Morah continued. “I come today to tell you of ships falling victim to piracy, treasuries looted, important officials kidnapped and assassinated. It is a scourge that has enveloped our beloved land, although it has not as yet touched Bourget.” Again the dramatic pause. “And, of course, we had to ask ourselves, why not Bourget? Is it not the richest, fattest, and most tempting target for such enemies? And yet we could not bring ourselves to believe that Bourget itself would be a party to such things. Bourget has been good to Charon, and Charon has been good to Bourget. What, then, are we to think of all this?”
Some rumblings, mumblings, and whispers could be heard in the crowd. I noticed, too, that at least a few people started looking around very uncomfortably, or were edging toward the back of the crowd. Very, very interesting.
“Obviously,” the security chief continued, “our enemies are in Bourget, of Bourget, but unknown to the loyal and peace-loving people of Bourget. And if such enemies are amongst you, living amongst you, while they perpetrate such monstrous crimes, they are growing stronger, richer, more confident. Eventually, they would have taken over and dominated this community. Today we will end this threat.”
More rumblings and whisperings, and I noticed the troopers coming to full alert. I was now beginning to get an idea of what Morah had in mind, remembering Garal’s original statement back in orientation that a curse is only good if the victim knows about it Well, anybody in this crowd who was involved in the underground movement sure knew—and had no way out, as a couple of women who started walking toward one of the streets found out when they were blocked and turned back by the troopers.
“What is he going to do?” Zala whispered to me.
“He’s going to cast a spell on the evildoers,” I told her. “At least, I think so.”
“I am Chief of Security,” Morah reminded them, “and as befits one of my titles and responsibilities, I have great power.” He raised his arms up over his head and began chanting what sounded to me like nonsense syllables—but I’d witnessed such a thing before. “Concentration aids”
Tully had called them, but the people called them spells.
Slowly the arms dropped, and those eerie eyes seemed to fill the stage. He stretched out his arms to the crowd, which reacted by nervously pulling back. I noticed that Tully Kokul was viewing the scene with interest but was taking no part in the proceedings.
Morah stopped his chant and froze in position, pointing both arms at the crowd. “Now and in the presence of you all,” he intoned, “I do hereby curse those who would follow the Destroyer, Lord of Nothingness, and do his bidding. Let their evil traitorous presence be known to all good men and women—now!”
It was an amazing show. Bright yellow sparks seemed to fly from his fingers and reach out in all directions for the crowd, many of whom screamed or cried out. Many in the crowd really let out yells and raised hands to foreheads. One woman near us let out a screech and turned in fear and shock toward us, whereupon I let out an involuntary gasp. From her forehead protruded two short, stubby, demonic horns.
“Look at that!” I exclaimed, turning to Zala. “I—” then stopped dead. Zala, looking shocked and scared to death, was feeling her own pair of horns. “Oh, no!. Not you.” She looked at me in mixed fear and bewilderment. “No, I—”
But the comment was suddenly cut off, and I watched in amazement as an odd, bizarre transformation seemed to take place within her. Her body seemed, to be all in motion as some power reshaped muscle and transformed her into someone else before my very eyes. I thought for a moment it was part of the spell, but a quick glance around showed that it was not Shots rang out, and I saw several people who had rushed for one of the streets near us go down in a hail of gunfire and lie there, writhing and moaning.
“Get them, honest citizens!” Morah was ordering. “Hold them for us!”
When I looked back, the woman next to me was only barely recognizable as Zala Embuay. She seemed larger, stronger, and the face, even the eyes, while still hers, seemed to belong to someone else, someone I did not know at all. She looked at me—horns still present—and said in a crisp, low voice, “Get inside the hall—fast\ For your own sake!”
“What the hell?” was all I could manage. Roughly she picked me up as if I were a rag doll and shoved me in the doorway. It didn’t take a genius to realize that, for the first time, I was in the presence of the other, hidden Zala Embuay—but not for long. Before I could say another word she ran into the town hall and was quickly gone. For a moment I debated running after her, but I realized there was little I could do—and few places for her to run, with troops on the roof and, surely, stationed at the side exits as well. So, keeping well inside the doorway, I returned my gaze to the street.
The massacre was starting on schedule. I estimated thirty or forty people, perhaps, had suddenly sprouted horns—all female as far as I could see. The crowd, pruned, acted as Morah expected, actually jumping on their erstwhile friends and relatives and helping the efficient troops to capture them.
Suddenly a series of tracer like blasts shook the square, and there were explosions and concussions everywhere, followed immediately by the steady sounds of something I knew well. Laser pistols! But they weren’t supposed to work on Charon!
Stun rays were playing down the square, collapsing people into little heaps by the dozens, but not far away, on the rooftops, a deadly gunfight was obviously taking place between the troops and—who? I realized I didn’t know and, from my protective vantage point, I couldn’t really see either.
Near the stage I saw Tully Kokul’s mouth sag as he watched the scene in total amazement. The rays playing the square seemed to have no effect on him at all, nor did he seem unduly worried.