PEACEMAKER
BY ALAN E. NOURSE
ILLUSTRATED BY EBEL
All Flicker wanted was a chance to make the aliens
understand. All the aliens wanted was a chance
to kill him while they could. But there were things
about Flicker that they hadn't counted on....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Science Fiction Adventures Magazine, February 1953.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Flicker's mind fought silently and desperately to maintain itsfast-receding control, to master his frantic urge to writhe and screamin agony at the burning light. The fetid animal stench of the aliensfilled his nostrils, gagging him; the heat of the place seared hisskin like a thousand white-hot needles, and seeped into his throatto blister his lungs. It didn't matter that his arms and legs werebound tightly to the pallet, for he knew he dared not move them. Themaddening off-and-on of the scorching light set his mind afire, twistedhis stomach into a hard knot of fear and agony, but his body lay stillas death, relaxed and motionless. He knew that the instant he betrayedhis tortured alertness by so much as a single tremor, his chance forcontact would be totally gone.
"The only sensible thing to do is to kill it!"
It was not repetition but a constant, powerful force, crashing intohis mind, hateful, cold. He heard no sound but the muffled throb ofspaceship engines far back in the ship, but the thought was there,adamant and uncompromising. It burst from the garbled thought-patternsof the others and struck his mind like an electric shock. One of thealiens wanted to kill him.
Thought contact. It was a paralyzing concept to Flicker. The alienscouldn't possibly realize it themselves; they were using soundcommunication with one another, on a sonic level beyond the sensitivityof Flicker's ears. He could hear no sound—but the thought patternsthat guided the sound-talking of the aliens came through tosledge-hammer his brain, coherent, crystal clear.
"But why kill it? We have it sedated almost to death-level now. It'scompletely unconscious, it's securely bound, and we can keep it thatway until we reach home. Then it's no longer our worry."
The first thought broke out again with new overtones of anger and fear."I say we've got to kill it! We had no right picking it up in thefirst place. What is it? How did it get there? Where was the ship thatbrought it?" The alien mind was venomous. "Kill it now, while we can!"
Flicker tried desperately to tear his mind from the agonizing rhythmof the light, to catch and hold the alien thoughts. Confusion rose inhis mind, and for the first time he felt a chill of fear. His peopleknew that these aliens were avaricious and venal—a dozen drained andpillaged star-systems which they had overrun bore witness to that—buthe had never even considered, before he started on this mission, thatthey might kill him without even attempting communication. Why mustthey kill him? All he wanted was a chance—one brief moment to conveyhis message to them. Five years of planning, and his own life, hadbeen risked just to get the message to them, to gain their confidenceand make them understand, but all he found in these alien minds wasfear and suspicion and hate, which had become a single ever-developingcrescendo: "Kill it now, while we can!"
There were only three of them with him now, but he knew, from somecorner of the alien minds, that five others were sleeping in a forwardchamber of the ship. H