The Overlords of War Read Online Free PDF Page B

The antigrav field must affect only human beings. Possibly the necessary orders were drawn directly and subconsciously from the nervous system. He was unable to imagine how that might be done.
    He rose and started to wander about again. Mission: find the Spaceport, the starship launch station, or the transmatter terminal, and get away, using force if need be. If he were arrested, he could always talk about what he knew.
    The layout of the city was becoming clear to him, although it Struck him as extraordinarily haphazard. The military bases of his own day had always been built to the same design. Certain routes were reserved for vehicles, others for pedestrians. Not here. The ability to foresee events—to cog, as Floria had called it—must have influenced the highway code. He recalled the accident he had barely escaped a few hours earlier. That driver had not foreseen Corson getting in his way. Then, in order to cog something, the Urians must have to make an act of will, perhaps focus a kind of inward sight. Or could it be that the power was less well developed in some people?
    He tried to concentrate and imagine something that was about to happen. A passer-by: he might carry straight on, turn, go up or down. Corson decided he was going to turn. The man kept on his way. He tried the test again, failed again.
    Again. Again.
    Perhaps he was failing too often? Perhaps some block in his nervous system was causing him always to make a wrong choice? Perhaps!
    Vague recollections of long-ago experiences rose to his mind, premonitions, cruelly clear, which had come true. Like lightning flashes which, at a key moment during battle, had lit up the field of his awareness. Or in the silence of utter exhaustion. Nothing calculated or reasoned out. Just incidents such as one forgot again at once, dismissed as coincidental.
    He had always had the reputation of being a lucky bastard. The fact that he was still alive seemed to confirm what his comrades— dead, all dead—laughingly used to say. Had luck become a factor you could measure, here on Uria?
    A light floater halted level with him and by reflex he tensed. Muscles taut, knees flexed, he reached toward his armpit. But he did not draw his gun. The machine contained only one passenger, a girl. Empty-handed. Dark. Young and pretty. She was smiling. She must have stopped to talk to him. He had no idea who she might be.
    He straightened and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The girl beckoned to him.
    “George Corson, isn’t it? Then come along.”
    The rim of the floater deformed like cloth, or plastic under a heat beam, to let him board.
    “Who are you? How did you know where to find me?”
    “My name is Antonella,” she said. “And Floria Van Nelle told me about you. I wanted to meet you.”
    He hesitated.
    "I know you’re going to get in, George. So let’s not waste time.” He almost turned on his heel. Could one cheat the precog power? But she was right: he did want to get aboard. He had had enough of being alone, and needed to talk to someone. He would have time later to continue his experiments. He climbed into the machine.
    “Welcome to Uria, Mr. Corson,” Antonella said with a touch of formality. “I am instructed to greet and guide you.”
    “An official assignment?”
    “If you like. But I take great personal pleasure in it.”
    The floater had gathered speed and was flying off without the girl seeming to pay attention. She smiled; her teeth were magnificent.
    “Where are we going?”
    “How about a trip along the seashore?”
    "You’re not taking me anywhere in particular, then?”
    "I won’t take you anywhere you don’t want to go.”
    “Fair enough,” Corson said, sitting down on a cushioned bench. And, as they were leaving Dyoto behind:
    “You’re not scared. Floria must have told you everything about
    “She told us you were a bit rough with her. She doesn’t yet know whether to hold it against you or not. I think what annoyed her most was your