Parasite Planet. John Russell Fearn

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on Earth the store would have been classed as an emporium, having a gigantic ground floor with countless sales tables and counters. Behind and before the counters were people, as motionless as the creations of waxwork. High up towards the ceiling was a curiously-fashioned clock, evidently stopped.

      “By all that’s weird!” Abna breathed at length, for once completely at a loss. “Look at them—stopped in mid­-action. Look at that man there—”

      “And the people are not so very different from us, either,” Viona pointed out. “Similar in physique, even if their clothes are odd.”

      Abna began moving again and at length stopped before one of the women shoppers, who was apparently on the verge of accepting a package from the young woman behind the counter. Both women were fairly good-looking and both had thick black hair.

      “Beyond me,” Abna confessed at length. “Certainly doesn’t look as though we can do much. Maybe we should move on and have a look at the other planets?”

      “And leave a first-class cosmic mystery like this?” Viona objected. “Not likely!”

      Suddenly Viona gave a cry of alarm. Immediately Abna and the Amazon, at different parts of the store, glanced sharply toward her. She was stand­ing at one of the large windows, gazing intently outside.

      “Quick!” she urged, turning. ‘Something queer’s happening out here, and I think its dangerous! There’s an in­visible something making a trail heading straight this way.”

      In the distance they could see the immense bulk of the Ultra, and in the foreground to its left were the trees they had stopped to examine—but the strange thing was that something invisible was making a trail from the Ultra and hurling fountains of dust into the air in the process. A clear path was being cut in exactly the track they themselves had taken.

      CHAPTER THREE

      RESTORED TO LIFE

      Within seconds the invisible something had reached the trees, then in further explosions of dust the trail blew itself to pieces and headed in a zigzag line down the main street and turned sharply into the very store where they now stood.

      “Get ready,” Abna said tautly, pulling his protonic gun from his belt. “Something invisible following our tracks.”

      They expected an attack from the invisible creature, but the three were for once mistaken. Fascinated, they watched the exploding trail, like fire following a line of dynamite powder, come straight to where they were standing. Then there was a violent explosion which flung them back­wards from the window and sent them sprawling across the floor.

      Before they had a chance to fathom what was happening, there followed a terrific thunderclap from outside and a cyclonic gust of wind. Immediately sound burst forth in the store—the chatter of voices in an unintelligible language, the movement of feet.

      Slowly Abna got to his feet, staring around him as he helped the Amazon and Viona up beside him. They were quite unharmed, but definitely bewildered. The store was full of move­ment and draughts. Outside, the frozen immobility of the clouds had passed away and they were moving before a strong wind, which was also carrying vast dust clouds along with it.

      Then the shoppers caught sight of the unexpected trio and there came a breathless hush. Inevitably, a crowd began to collect around the three as they stood looking about them, guns still in their hands. Suddenly becom­ing conscious of this fact, the Amazon holstered her gun quickly.

      In the distance the frozen ‘clock’ had moved onwards. Everything was incredibly, mysteri­ously in action again as though some unseen spring had been released.

      “Vadnia di kelnos excilit?” asked one of the assembly in surprise, com­ing forward; and the trio studied him. It was possible he was the manager or proprietor, for the others—shoppers and what appeared to be salesmen and salesgirls—fell aside to let him pass.

      “Your language is foreign to us,” Abna responded, and the man frowned, obviously realizing he was hearing a tongue unknown on his world.

      “Try reading his mind metaphysically,” the Amazon said. Abna nodded and concentrated. It was plain the little man could feel the overwhelming mental power being trained upon him, but he stood up to it without panic. Then Abna ceased to concentrate and instead spoke, using the man’s own language.

      Back and forth the conversation went, the Amazon waiting in vague anticipation since she was not capable of reading thoughts to the same ex­tent as Abna.

      “It seems,” Abna said at last, turning, “that there is a great deal more to this paralysis business than we realize, Vi. Our friend here is the store’s owner—managing director, if you will. He’s prepared to take us to his home where maybe we can knock some sense into things.”

      The Amazon made no comment, merely glancing over the open-mouthed, staring men and women who had congregated into a solid mass There were children, too, quite a few of them. Everything was surprisingly Earthly. So much so indeed that Viona felt stirred to a remark.

      “I suppose we didn’t go wrong some­where in our journeying and land back on Earth in an unknown time?”

      “You should know better than that,” the Amazon retorted. “We didn’t go wrong anywhere. Everything looks more or less on the Earth pattern because the basic conditions are similar. Same type of sun, same type of elements and atmosphere. That would automatically produce a similar form of life. No mystery about it. But let’s get moving.” she added, looking at Abna.

      He nodded, spoke several strange words to the little man, and the trio followed him out the door.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      VIONA MEETS MEXONE

      The home of the little man, whose name appeared to be Cesnon, was massive, well-kept, and on the edge of the town. And yet there was simplicity, and the three from Earth could not help but notice that there was no sign of television or scientific gadgets, even though there was an instrument in the lounge that was probably a radio.

      A meal of strange food, but tasty enough, was provided by well-trained and unobtrusive servants, then with the night drawing in, Cesnon led the way into the lounge with its big if rather archaic fuel fire, and here made introductions to his quiet and smiling wife and twelve-year-old daughter.

      “I think,” Abna said, glancing toward the Amazon as she reclined in a deep armchair, “that it would be better if I gave our friend here the gift of our own language—metaphysi­cally, of course—then we can save time and energy. I’ll just ask him if he has any objection.”

      The gibberish went forth for a moment or two between Abna and Cesnon, the wife and daughter listening in amazement and exchanging glances—then finally Cesnon spread his hands in a definite gesture of acceptance of Abna’s proposition.

      “He’s agreeable,” Abna said, as the Amazon and Viona glanced at him. “Won’t take very long.”

      In a matter of five minutes it was over and the mental transference was complete. Abna relaxed again and smiled.

      “You understand now?” he asked quietly.

      “Yes…I understand.” Cesnon hesitated for a moment. “You have the powers of a god, my friend, or else of a devil. With the gift of mental compulsion which

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