The Bavarian Gate By John Dalmas

Shivering, Macurdy left, plodding zombie-like up the stairs, not stopping at any of the levels, but continuing past the third, up a last flight to a gable door. It opened on a minuscule balcony, a tiny standing place at the eaves of the steep and circular tower roof.

The sky was clear, a great vault spangled with stars. Only then did he realize, vaguely, that the psychic energy he’d felt earlier was gone; had been since before he’d wned. For several more minutes he thought not at all, until, shivering, he realized how cold the night was. Without checking to see if things were clear, he went back in, down to the second level and into the corridor. He didn’t notice whether there was light beneath the doors. Gathering his wits, he cleared the alarm or barrier-whatever it was-and stepped through.

The sentry lay comatose on the floor. It registered, but Macurdy didn’t wonder at it. Thinking only of bed, he returned to his room, where the auras would have told him, if he’d noticed, that the psychics were as comatose as the guard.

When he lay down, he had wits enough to deactivate his cloak, and as he pulled the covers over himself, thought blurrily that Tsulgax, or whoever had gone to clean up, was either enormously durable, or remarkably insensitive to psychic shock.

26

A Peculiar Gate

The next morning the psychics weren’t taken to their instructors. They weren’t even wakened for breakfast, but instead rousted out for an early lunch. It seemed to Macurdy that the psychic “power surge” of the night before must have left everyone, except Tsulgax and probably the Voitar, in a state of collapse.

About the time they’d finished lunch-rye bread, margarine, cheese and sausage-Macurdy became aware of a hum of energy; a different energy than he’d felt the night before. The others felt it too; he could read it in their auras, and by the way they looked around.

Not long afterward, a haggard Lieutenant Lipanov and an entire squad of equally haggard guardsmen took the psychics for a walk; all but the old woman. And if that wasn’t remarkable enough, Greszak went with them, long legs like swift scissor blades. The Voitu’s vigor startled Macurdy.

This time they didn’t stay on the country road, with its mild ups and downs, but in just a short distance turned off on a truck trail that angled up the side of the Witches’ Ridge. Built by the military for four-wheel-drive vehicles, Macurdy decided. He wondered why.

The day was sunny and mild, somewhat above freezing, and the upgrade unrelenting, so that despite frequent short breaks to catch their breath, most were soon sweating. The middle-aged gypsy complained of chest pain, and a guardsman took her back to the schloss, but everyone else kept hiking up the stony road until, two-thirds of the way to the top, they stopped. By that time the energy field was considerably stronger, oppressing all of them except himself-himself and Greszak who’d been scanning the psychics continually.

On the way back down it suddenly cut off. By then Macurdy knew what kind of energy field it was, knew it well from Injun Knob: Somewhere on the Witches’ Ridge was a gate, if not to Yuulith, then to some place like it–an activated gate, though the hour was far from midnight. The realization, when it hit him, had given him chills.

And the Voitar? The Voitar were definitely not from Mars. They were-they had to be from the other side of the gate.

Neither Landgraf nor Kupfer nor the Voitar explained the unusual walk. Nor Schurz, who almost surely didn’t know. It was not a coincidence though, Macurdy felt sure. Perhaps a test, to see which of them were affected, and how much.

The next day the psychics returned to their class routine, but something had changed. The gate field turned on for something approaching an hour, but at roughly an hour later. It repeated the next day, an hour or so later than on the day before.

Later that day, the glowering Tsulgax took Montag from the classroom to Kurqosz’s office.. “Herr Montag,” said Kurqosz, “have you felt anything unusual in the air, lately? In the afternoons?”

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