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  Complete Fiction

  Everett B. Cole

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  Jerry eBooks

  Title Page

  About Everett B. Cole

  Bibliography

  Short Fiction Bibliography

  Short Fiction Series

  Philosophical Corps

  These Shall Not Be Lost

  Exile

  Fighting Philosopher

  The Deviant

  The Players

  Millennium

  Final Weapon

  Indirection

  The Missionaries

  The Best Made Plans (First of two parts)

  The Best Made Plans (Conclusion))

  Alarm Clock

  The Weakling

  Here, There Be Witches

  Everett B. Cole was an American writer of science fiction short stories and a professional soldier. He fought at Omaha Beach during WWII and worked as a signal maintenance and property officer at Fort Douglas, Utah, retiring in 1960. He got a Bachelor’s degree in Math and Physics and became a Math, Physics, and Chemistry teacher at Yorktown High School in Texas. His first science fiction story, “Philosophical Corps” was published in the magazine Astounding in 1951. His fix-up of that story and two others, The Philosophical Corps—although today consider more of a collection than a novel—was published by Gnome Press in 1962.

  Everett Cole’s first novel, Exile, appeared in Astounding Science Fiction (January 1954) and was followed a several other novels published in magazine-form only; most notably the serialized novel, The Best Made Plans, in Astounding Science Fiction in 1959.

  He also co-authored historical books about the south Texas region.

  BIBLIOGRAPHY

  Magazine-published Novels

  Exile, Astounding Science Fiction, January 1954

  Final Weapon, Astounding Science Fiction, June 1955

  The Missionaries, Astounding Science Fiction, May 1956

  Serials

  The Best Made Plans, Astounding Science Fiction, November-December 1959

  Anthologies

  The Starship from Sirius/Final Weapon (2013) with Rog Phillips

  Chapbooks

  The Players (2007)

  Indirection (2007)

  Final Weapon (2008)

  Millennium (2008)

  Alarm Clock (2008)

  The Weakling (2009)

  Collections

  The Philosophical Corps (1961)

  SHORT FICTION BIBLIOGRAPHY

  Philosophical Corps, Astounding Science Fiction, March 1951

  These Shall Not Be Lost, Astounding Science Fiction, January 1953

  Exile, Astounding Science Fiction, January 1954

  Fighting Philosopher, Astounding Science Fiction, April 1954

  The Deviant, Astounding Science Fiction, October 1954

  The Players, Astounding Science Fiction, April 1955

  Millennium, Astounding Science Fiction, May 1955

  Final Weapon, Astounding Science Fiction, June 1955

  Indirection, Astounding Science Fiction, January 1956

  The Missionaries, Astounding Science Fiction, May 1956

  The Best Made Plans (First of Two Parts), Astounding Science Fiction, November 1959

  The Best Made Plans (Conclusion), Astounding Science Fiction, December 1959

  Alarm Clock, Astounding/Analog Science Fact & Fiction, September 1960

  The Weakling, Analog Science Fact—>Fiction, February 1961

  Here, There Be Witches, Analog Science Fiction/Science Fact, April 1970

  SHORT FICTION SERIES

  Philosophical Corps

  Philosophical Corps

  These Shall Not Be Lost

  Fighting Philosopher

  The Players

  Here, There Be Witches

  Philosophical Corps

  It can be quite a trick to prevent a bunch of swindlers from setting up as gods—and even more of a trick to get them out again without anyone knowing they were there!

  The “Degrader” criminal requires specialized handling, not because of any superior technique or intelligence he may possess, but because of the far-reaching implications of his peculiar operations. Essentially, this criminal is a smuggler and a slave trader, who preys upon undeveloped or primitive planets, much as the ancient “Blackbirder” preyed upon primitive nations or tribes on Terra.

  Armed with advanced technology, he lands on an undeveloped planet. He then seeks out a barbaric city-state or nation of considerable power and importance, and by use of his weapons and other technical equipment, establishes himself as a deity. Once established, he embarks this nation on a program of conquest and pillage, drawing upon its loot for slaves, raw materials, precious stones and metals, as well as for artifacts. The slaves, of course, are used in various underworld activities, while much of the materiel finds its way through devious channels into normal, noncriminal society.

  The usual methods of detection and capture would serve to apprehend this type of criminal, but the psychological and theological effects he leaves behind, require action by specialized personnel. For this reason, the Philosophical Corps was activated in the Stellar Guard. Originally, this Corps was a section of the Criminal Apprehension Corps, and followed upon the heels of the regular Criminal Apprehension Groups, operating to correct degrader influences after routine arrest had been accomplished. More recently, however, the Corps has become an arm of the service in its own right, and has been charged with the duty of observing undeveloped planets, arresting any degraders met with, in as unobtrusive a manner as possible, and finally, of correcting any, ill effects left either by the criminals or by their own activities. To this end, they have been granted many unusual powers and privileges not extended to other arms of tire Guard. The operations of this Corps during the comparatively short period of its existence, have already resulted in the rehabilitation of many new civilizations which might otherwise have turned to criminality and thus brought destruction upon themselves.

  A Manual of Criminology

  Stellar Guard Basic Series

  The clear, cold night air made visibility nearly perfect, despite the moonless, nearly starless sky. The few brilliant stars visible from this isolated system shone coldly down upon the scene, providing just enough light to overcome absolute blackness. Here and there on the plain below, a few lights flickered among the vague shadows and faint highlights of the fields and trees, pointing out the camps of nomadic herdsmen, or possibly of merchant caravans. Northward, the black masses and spires of high mountains abruptly bounded the plain, while to the west, the torches of its guards and inhabitants outlined the towers and walls of a barbaric city. At the

  center of this city, enveloped in brighter light than the rest, and the focal point of its traffic, stood a massive building. Huge, heavily braced and flat topped, it squatted, dominating the lesser buildings about it as a giant among pygmies.

  From the top of this building, rose an orange ball. Dully glowing, it floated lazily upward, then arced to the north, to finally disappear beyond the mountain spires.

  On the hillside, an observer of this scene lowered his binoculars with a sigh.

  “Well, sergeant,” he remarked, “guess that settles it. We’ve hit another infected planet.”

  Dave Wells, Intelligence Technician First Class, nodded, his eyes on his instruments. “Looks like it, Mr. Dale,” he agreed. “These people won’t develop gravity-driven ships of their own for anot
her five or ten thousand years.” He turned. “Got contact, Jack?” he called.

  “Hold it a minute,” a voice from the blackness behind them requested. “Message coming in.”

  Dale and Wells stepped through the blackout field into the cave they had hollowed out for a base. The glare of light inside made them blink as they approached the communicator. Sergeant Owens was just picking up his microphone.

  “Roger. Three more,” he said, then turned to face the Chief Philosopher.

  “The major says the only evidence we lack is a grav ship. He has reports from three teams beside our own, which indicate degrader type activity from our area. These, coupled with our reports of heavily loaded incoming traffic and practically empty caravans going out, plus that temple of theirs, indicate our city to be degrader dominated. We are to enter and scout on open schedule. Further, you are granted discretion.”

  Dale nodded. “Thought so,” he commented, turning toward the equipment pile. “Oh, well, here’s where we go to work.” He commenced sorting items of equipment. “Wells,” he inquired, “what was your azimuth and altitude on that ship?”

  Sergeant Wells looked up from his plotting board. “I make it twelve point four six at ten thousand, sir,” he replied.

  “Good.” Dale consulted his wrist-chron. “Owens, report a grav leaving the temple at eight point four two hours relative. It rose to altitude ten thousand meters, departing on course one two point four six, planetary true. It had ray and material screens energized. Velocity was approximately six hundred meters per sec. No city screen reaction.” He paused. “That should tie our situation down tight. Owens, you and him will hold down communication. Bowman and Miller will act as base security, Wells and Isaacs will go in with me. We’ll hold open sked with you per orders. Keep it recorded and shoot it along to Group.”

  Wells and Isaacs joined him at the equipment pile, rapidly sorting out items relating to their specialties. A few minutes later, the three men were dressed as natives of the region. They walked out of the cave, closing their eyes for a few minutes before going through the screen, then putting on their night viewers. Bowman was already, standing outside on guard.

  “Good luck,” he said, then added, “Procyon.”

  “Cerberus,” responded Dale.

  Isaacs grinned. “Cerberus for a countersign. Any significance, sir?”

  “Doubt it,” Dale told him. “Just popped into my head.” He turned to Wells. “Where were those bandit traces you reported?”

  “South a couple of kilos. Spotted some bodies.”

  “Arrows?”

  “Couple. Rest were hand-to-hand. The local boys play rough.”

  “I see.” Dale fingered his chin. “Guess we’d better go down that way. I’d like to meet some of those rough boys. We’ll use levitators. Lead off, Wells.”

  Wells nodded, touched his belt, then rose a few meters above the ground and sped southward, the others following him. Shortly, he eased to a stop and settled to the ground, followed by Dale. Isaacs snapped to a halt as though he had hit a wall, then in a flash, stood beside Dale and Wells.

  “What the heck!” Dale was surprised. “Isaacs, you using a null?” The personal mass nullifiers were handy, of course, but a man couldn’t keep them turned on all the time, due to their power drain. With their four kilograms of intrinsic, mass and their considerable bulk, they were not easy to conceal. It was seldom that Philo men carried them, when in native costume.

  “Yes, sir. I’m big and skinny enough to hide it. Had an idea it might come in handy.”

  “Well, it’s a bit unusual, but you’re the man’s got to fight it if we get into a jam. With your other equipment, you must feel like a freighter.”

  “So, I can turn on the null once in a while to take a rest,” grinned Isaacs. “The thing can pay its own freight, I think.”

  “Could be.” Dale dismissed the subject. “Wonder where our boy friends would be.”

  Wells looked around. “I’m pretty sure they sprung their ambush from that thicket,” he mused. “Let’s see what my sniffer says.”

  He took a small instrument from his garments as he walked toward the bodies.

  “Phoo!” he muttered disgustedly. “Doesn’t take a spectroanalyzer to tell these characters’ve been lying around for a while. Hope I can get a decent reading.”

  He focused the instrument on an arrowshaft, making various settings, and noting the resultant readings. Finally, he straightened and returned to the others.

  “O.K.,” he commented. “I think I can trail the guy that fired that arrow.”

  He clamped the analyzer to his levitator, making the necessary connections, then rose from the ground. Dale and Isaacs followed him as he made for the clump of trees he had previously indicated. Once in the thicket, Wells circled, tried a couple of dead-end leads, then set out on a straight course. Presently, they came to an abandoned camp site. Once more, Wells circled.

  “Looks as though this one is fresh,” he remarked. “Guess we’re on the right trail.”

  “Good deal,” Dale told him. “Let’s get on. When you get into close range, stop. I want to look these boys over before we meet them.”

  They continued, going into the hills now. After an hour or so of trailing, Wells halted.

  “We’re just out of visual range now, sir,” he reported. “I’m pretty sure they’re somewhere in that wood.” He pointed.

  The three guardsmen touched their levitators, gaining altitude. At five hundred meters, Dale stopped.

  “Good enough,” he said. “Now we can look them over. Better cut out visibility. “He made the necessary adjustments to his protector shield, causing incident light to refract around him, leaving him practically invisible to the unaided eye. The two sergeants followed suit.

  Below, the bandit camp was plain to be seen in the three-view screens. Riding and: draft animals were picketed within easy distance of eight men who lay asleep, wrapped in their cloaks. Two more men walked guard, circling the small camp at intervals. Not far from the picketed animals was a neatly stacked pile of goods. Dale examined the camp layout.

  “Well set up,” he commented approvingly. “These boys are careful and smart.” He turned to Isaacs. “Think you can nail both guards with a hypno?”

  “Believe so, sir. You’ll want to cut in when I have them?”

  “Yes. I think all three of us should be in on it.”

  “Roger.” Isaacs moved to line the guards up in his hypnotizer beam.

  As Dale and Wells adjusted the thin mentacom hands on their heads, a confused jumble of thoughts broke in on them. A camp scene—across the fire, a woman grinding grain—running through this, a scrambled scene of battle—Suddenly, nothing. Isaacs had triggered his projector.

  Dale touched a control. “Hear me!” he thought forcefully. “What manner of men are you that you prey upon your fellows?”

  Slowly, there was dragged out a familiar tale to the guardsmen. These men were escaped slaves. Four of them had managed to escape from, the city, and, by waylaying caravans, had freed and recruited the others. Members of various tribes from the southeast, all of them had been captured by Atakaran slave raiders. Eventually, they intended to return to their own countries, but the trade of banditry, once forced upon them, had become attractive and profitable. Both men were a little vague as to when they would actually start the journey back to their homes.

  Dale held up a hand, fingers curved in the ancient “On Target” signal. Isaacs nodded, his hypno still trained on the two sentries. Dale continued his mental conversation.

  “You both know, of course, that the day of capture will come?”

  The men below readily agreed that it was inevitable. Intellectually, they knew the statement to be correct. There were reservations, however. Deep in their minds, clung the age-old thought, “It happens to others, but it can’t happen to me.”

  Slowly, Dale shook his head. “No, it always happens—to every man who defies authority. In your case, however, I may b
e able to offer help. In the morning, three strangers will come to you. They will be friends. Listen to them.”

  He drew his fingers across his throat, and Isaacs promptly cut off the beam. The three removed their mentacoms, and watched the scene below.

  The two sentries were gazing about anxiously, exclaiming to each other. After a few minutes of futile conjecture and equally futile search, they awakened their comrades. An excited discussion followed, punctuated by many gestures.

  Dale signaled Wells and Isaacs close. “I think these ten will come in handy,” he told them. “We’ll make personal contact with them in the morning, and see what develops. However it turns out, they can teach us a lot about the customs of the region.”

  Isaacs was looking down at the camp. “Suppose there’s any chance of this being a setup?”

  “There’s always that chance,” Dale told him. “I don’t think we’ve been detected, but—You didn’t notice anything on the hypno, did you?”

  “No, sir. I just have a nasty habit of dreaming up all the dirty tricks I can think of, and then expecting the other guy to try them out on me.”

  “Best habit a Security Tech can have,” Dale smiled. “Better take a thorough check on the layout just in case.” He hesitated. “What do you think, Wells?”

  Wells gazed thoughtfully down. “I’m not so certain about this, either,” he muttered. “They’re putting on a good act, if it is an act, but that’s a darn well-arranged camp, and they’ve got one heck of a big pile of stuff down there.” He took his spectroanalyzer from his garments, focusing it. Minutes passed. The analyzer was replaced by a radiation detector, then a hypnotizer beam was brought into brief play. Finally, he looked up, replacing his instruments, “Lots of precious metal and stones, but I can’t get any trace of modern type alloys,” he reported.

  “No trace of unusual radiation, and if they’ve got screens up, they’re the first indetectable screens I’ve ever met. Far’s I’m concerned, they’re clean.”