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diff --git a/old/66328-0.txt b/old/66328-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 19d400d..0000000 --- a/old/66328-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,4363 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Planet of Dread, by Dwight V. Swain - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Planet of Dread - -Author: Dwight V. Swain - -Release Date: September 17, 2021 [eBook #66328] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLANET OF DREAD *** - - - - - Surrounded by its many suns, Lysor scorned - Federation rule and plotted the destruction of our - galaxy. So Craig Nesom came in a starship to this-- - - PLANET OF DREAD - - By Dwight V. Swain - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy - February 1954 - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Face slack, eyes glazed with terror, the Baemae wench came forward -through the gate into the walled ring. - -An appreciative murmur ran through the crowd. As one, the assembled -Kukzubas barons and their ladies pressed closer about the pit-rail, -tense and eager with anticipation. - -High on his dais, Lord Zenaor chuckled. "A pretty thing, is she not, -Vydys?" he queried of the woman who sat beside him, dark vision of -sinister beauty. - -Hot with strange passion, the woman's eyes clung to the cringing figure -in the pit. The pink tip of her tongue flicked at her lips. "If you can -see your way to calling any Baemae woman pretty. For my part, I prefer -her in her proper role, as prey here in the games." - -"So--?" Lord Zenaor raised a mocking coal-black eyebrow. "No wonder -they call you 'Vydys the Cruel' behind your back, my dear! If you had -your way, there'd soon be no Baemae left alive to serve us." - -Visibly, Vydys stiffened. Her head came round--dark eyes flashing, -jet hair ashimmer; and when she spoke her words were edged with fury. -"Have a care, Zenaor! I've no taste for taunts, even from the chief of -barons." - -"The truth is no taunt." Zenaor gave not a fraction. "Because pain is -your passion, you drive our serfs to rebellion." - -"Rebellion--!" The woman's eyes glinted like crater diamonds. "How many -of the Baemae have flown south with their cursed discs already, off to -the djevoda ranges? There lies your rebellion--and only torture will -stop it!" Her laugh rang gall-bitter. "Or perhaps, like that Narla, -you believe we should free them?" - -"Keep your tongue off my daughter!" It was a command that brooked no -discussion. "As for the free range, the discs, cross them off. They'll -soon be no menace." - -"Oh?" Vydys' lips twisted, mocking. "No, doubt you have a plan, my lord -Zenaor--" - -"I have a plan indeed." Zenaor's tone was icy. "One word too many, and -you'll die as its first step." - -Vydys faltered. - -"You see, my dear, our goals are different." Zenaor clipped, smiling -thinly. "You lust after pain, I after power. As chief of barons, I mean -to have it--and that means holding down the Baemae. But I'll waste no -time on half-way measures. When I strike, it will be in my own way, and -it will win. And"--now he leaned forward, close to Vydys--"and even one -lovely as you shall die if in that moment she plots against me." - -Vydys' nostrils flared. But before she could speak, the chief of barons -turned away. He raised his voice till it echoed through the great -vaulted hall. "Wench! Are you ready?" - -Below him, in the ring, the Baemae girl's lips moved in a soundless -agony of panic. - -A ripple of laughter rose from the crowd. Packed bodies shifted and -pressed tighter. Hungrily, mercilessly, a thousand eyes appraised the -evening's victim. - -Zenaor said, "Wench, tonight you meet the Lady Vydys' roller. If you -survive, I'll make a place for you in my own harem. If not...." He -shrugged: turned back to Vydys. "My dear--" - -Vydys' high, proud breasts rose on a quick-drawn breath. Lithely, she -twisted in her seat. "My helm, serf!" - -The rawboned Baemae youth who wore her livery lifted the ornate -metal headdress from its case; stepped forward. His face was pale, -sweat-beaded. His hands trembled. - -Vydys' eyes distended. "Why do you shake so, carrion?" - -The youth's voice quavered. "She--that girl...." He floundered, groped. -"She--she is my sister, Lady Vydys." - -"Your sister!" The mask of anger fell away from Vydys' face. "You mean -she is of your blood? You love her?" - -Mutely, the serfman nodded. - -"And you would suffer were she to meet my roller?" - -Again, the liveried Baemae's head moved in silent affirmation. - - * * * * * - -A light gleamed deep in Vydys' eyes, all dark and evil. Once more, she -ran the small, pink tongue along her lips, as if savoring the tension -of the moment. - -"You--you will spare her--?" The youth's words came out a hoarse, -cracked whisper. - -"Spare her--and spoil the evening's entertainment?" The Lady Vydys' -ripe lips curved in a small, slow smile that was straight from hell. -"Surely, serf, you would not ask that of me!" And then: "Place my helm -upon me." - -A new tremor ran through the serving-serf. Wordless, he slid the -shining metal casing down over the jet hair, seated it carefully upon -the woman's head. - -Approvingly, she nodded. "Now, seat yourself before me--here, where I -can watch your face." - -Stiff-lipped, the youth obeyed. - -Vydys laughed softly; turned to Zenaor. "You see, my lord? Down there -in the ring will be the wench, pitting herself against my roller; while -here close by me sits her brother, suffering with her. It offers a new -kind of titillation!" - -Zenaor shrugged. "As you will it." - -Eyes sparkling, Vydys leaned forward. "Let in the roller!" - -An iron gate lifted. A faceted four-foot sphere bowled slowly out of -the shadowed passage into the walled ring. - -The roller. - -A strange creature, in any evolutional pattern. Its surface was -completely covered with leathery, inch-wide octagonal pads, each -centered with a third-inch cup that served as combined mouth and mode -of movement. For through these cups it both took nourishment and pulled -itself in whatever direction it sought to go by applying differential -suction to the surface on which it rested. - -Now, in the center of the ring, it hesitated; paused there, teetering, -like some great ball come to rest. - -The Baemae girl caught her breath, the sound rasping over-loud in the -sudden hush that had fallen upon the crowd. Eyes wild and wide, she -shrank, back against the wall, hands splayed out flat against the -polished duroid surface. - -Still smiling, Vydys spoke to her victim--gentle, coaxing: "This is -a game wench--a game betwixt you and me. Do not fear the roller. In -itself it is harmless, a mere ball of flesh with so little brain that -it barely knows enough to feed. But through this helm"--she touched her -headdress--"my thoughts can project waves that stimulate its nervous -system, so that it moves wherever I may will it. You understand?" - -The girl below gave no sign that she had even heard. - -Vydys pressed on: "So, now, I'll spin the roller at you, while you try -to dodge it. That is the game. To win, you have only to leap atop the -thing and scale the ring-wall." - -Among the barons, someone laughed aloud, harsh and explosive. - -The Baemae youth who was the victim's brother buried his face in his -hands. - -Still the girl in the pit said nothing. She seemed to have eyes only -for the roller. - -Zenaor's black brows drew together. "Get on with it!" - -Vydys murmured, "The game begins...." Her face set in a mask of -concentration. - -Down in the ring, the roller began to move once more. Slowly at first, -then faster, it bowled around in a long curve. - -The girl slid along the wall, keeping space between her and the -creature. - -Vydys' lips parted, peeled back over sharp white teeth. Her fingers -wrapped tight around the throne-arm. - -The roller swerved sharply. Gathering speed, it hurtled towards the -girl. - -She darted sideways. - -The roller struck the wall with a meaty thud. Then, rotating so -rapidly its pad-facets blurred, it raced along the pitside, close on -its victim's heels. - -The girl gave a small, shrill cry of panic, and fled across the center -of the ring. - -Again the roller spun; lanced after her. - - * * * * * - -The girl threw herself aside barely in time. The roller missed her by -scant inches. Racing on, once more it struck the ring-wall, even harder -than before ... caromed off like a huge ball bouncing ... hurtled back, -straight at the girl. - -She stumbled to the left, seeking desperately to dodge it. - -The roller veered. - -The girl screamed; twisted. - -But not quite far enough, nor fast enough. One side of the speeding -roller ticked her; knocked her backward. She sprawled in a heap on the -ring's floor. - -The crowd roared; strained forward. - -Up on the dais, the Baemae youth surged to his feet--fists clenched, -face working. - -Vydys laughed aloud ... a throaty chortle, somehow hideous, more -befitting fiend than woman. "Ah, Zenaor! Was that not well turned?" Her -features shone with strange, evil radiance. - -The chief of barons shrugged, face wooden. - -Down in the ring, the roller came to rest. Panting, shaking, the Baemae -girl scrambled to her feet. - -Vydys' smooth brow furrowed. Slowly, the roller began to move again--in -a spiral, this time, circling and converging on its fear-straught prey. - -Sobbing, the girl tottered backward. - -Swiftly, the roller changed course ... spun towards her. - -The girl fled, running off wildly at right angles, not even pausing to -look behind her. - -Veering once more, the roller raced to intercept her. Too late, the -girl threw a mad glance back over her shoulder. - -But now the roller was upon her, striking at her legs even as she tried -to spring aside. There was the brittle _crack_ of a femur snapping. A -scream--high, shrill, alive with surging terror. - -The crowd shrieked its delight. - -Only then a new voice slashed through the uproar: "No--! No!" - -The roller thudded against the wall; lay still. Heads came round, -searching for the shouter. - -They found him on the dais, with Vydys and Zenaor. It was the Baemae -youth, the downed girl's brother. "Curse you!" he shouted, face white -with fury. "Curse you all, you vermin!" - -He turned as he yelled; started towards Vydys. - -She went rigid. Beside her, the Lord Zenaor brought up his hand in a -quick, tight gesture. - -Guards lunged forward, weapons drawn and ready. - -The youth whipped a knife from beneath his livery. Slashing, he leaped -back, eyes rolling wildly. - -But there was no escape ... only the closing circle of hard-faced -guards with their leveled fire-guns. - -The youth's face set in a sort of feverish desperation. Whirling, he -charged down from the dais, straight for the walled ring. - -Curses rang from the barons, shrieks from their ladies. Bellowing, -trampling, they threw themselves clear of the flashing blade. - -The youth reached the ring-wall. For an instant he poised atop it, -wavering. Then, tight-lipped, he leaped down into the pit itself and -stumbled to the side of his fallen sister. - -The crowd breathed again. - -On the dais, Vydys tensed and gripped the throne-arms till her knuckles -gleamed white as djevoda ivory. The scarlet lips quivered in a grimace -of hate. - -Below, the roller lurched into motion. A thousand crushing, crippling -pounds of flesh and gristle, gaining momentum with every second, it -spun across the ring. - -The youth leaped to meet it. Savagely, he slashed at the thing's -leathery outer hide. - -But the pads turned away his blade. Ball-like, not even slowing, the -sphere knocked him aside as, moments earlier, it had the girl. - -Then, while he still fought for balance, it was past him, hurtling -ever faster ... thundering towards the spot where his sister lay in a -huddled heap upon the floor. - -She tried to rise. Failed. - -The rocketing roller cut short her scream. - -Then the creature was bowling to a stop on the ring's far side. A hush -fell over the great vaulted hall. - - * * * * * - -Stiffly, the rawboned Baemae youth dragged himself up from the place -where he had fallen. Wordless, shambling, he crossed the pit to where -the crumpled, broken thing that had been his sister lay; he knelt there -beside her for a moment. - -Then he arose again and stared up at the packed, engulfing mass of -Kukzubas barons and their ladies ... looked on beyond and above them to -the dais--to Vydys and to Zenaor. - -The silence echoed. - -Thick-voiced, he spoke, then: "You've killed her, curse you--you filth -that call yourselves Kukzubas barons!" - -"True, carrion." This from dark Vydys. "And now you die beside her!" - -She concentrated. The roller turned, wending its blood-trailing way out -from the wall once more. - -But incredibly, the youth who wore Vydys' black-and-silver livery -gave the gore-drenched thing no heed. Slowly at first, then faster -and faster, his shoulders shook till he burst out in a wild gale of -laughter. - -"So I die!" It was the mirth of a madman. "Go on, you fools! Kill me! -But I die holding a secret that spells your doom, also!" - -Up on the dais, Lord Zenaor stiffened. He caught Vydys' arm. "Wait! -Hold back the roller!" - -The youth raved on: "Our day is coming, you cutthroats--the day of -the Baemae! We have summoned one who will sit in judgment on you, -a man from the far Federation! Already, this moment, his starship -approaches--" - -Zenaor surged from his seat. His bull-roar filled the hall: "The -night's games are over! I, Zenaor, decree it!" And then, to his -guardsmen: "Take that serf to my chambers!" - -The crowd swirled in tumult. Dark Vydys turned on him. "You cannot--!" - -"I can, and I do!" - -For a moment their eyes locked ... a taut, vibrant moment. - -Then the woman looked away. "If you will it...." The words came out -sullen. - -But already Zenaor was turning, striding off through the light-wall -that served as backdrop for the dais, away to the force-shift that led -to his quarters. - -Out again at the seventh level, he stalked into the living-chambers. - -His daughter, Narla, seated by an antique scanner unit, looked up as -he entered, grey eyes cool and speculative. "What--? Is the evening's -butchery over already?" Scorn was in her voice. - -Zenaor's fists knotted. "Once too often you'll tempt me to violence, -daughter." Pivoting, he stepped to a wall-stand, slopped taxat into a -bor-glass, and drank it down. - -The girl's brows drew together in the slightest of frowns. Rising in -one smooth, graceful motion that set her flaxen hair to shimmering in -the caron-light, she followed the chief of barons into the next room. -"Is something wrong, father? Were Vydys' tastes more than usually -hideous tonight?" - -The shaft-bell clanged before Zenaor could answer. Stepping around his -daughter, he strode back to the entrance. - - * * * * * - -Already, guards were dragging in the rawboned Baemae youth from the -pit. Blood smeared his right cheek. Shackles hung heavy upon him. - -"Good," Zenaor nodded. "Leave the serf with me, and return to your -quarters." - -The guard in charge stared. "Leave him with you--alone?" - -"Alone." - -The guard shot the Lord Zenaor a quick, sidelong glance. Then, saluting -smartly, he about-faced and left the chambers, followed by his fellows. - -Curiosity flickered in Narla's grey eyes. "Father--" - -He turned on her, stony-faced. "You, too." - -"I--?" - -"You go to your chambers--and stay there. I wish to be alone with the -prisoner." - -The girl opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. -Flushing slightly under her father's cold, impassive gaze, she stepped -through the light-wall into her own quarters. - -Now, at last, Zenaor faced the shackled Baemae. - -"You know, of course, that you are doomed to die?" - -Mutely, the youth nodded. - -"Yet there are ways and ways of dying. Slowly, painfully. Quick, clean, -easy." - -The serf said nothing. - -"There are things I would know--things that have to do with Baemae -treason." Zenaor's lips drew thin. The black eyes were never colder. -"What is this nonsense of someone coming from across the void, from the -Federation? You know there are no grounds--that the Federation holds no -jurisdiction!" - -All the fire seemed to have gone out of the youth. He shrugged -sullenly. "All I know is that a one called Tumek learned of some new -weapon you planned to use against the free Baemae in the djevoda lands -to the south. Secretly, then, he sent word to the Federation, saying -that if you ever used the thing you planned, it would imperil all other -worlds as well as ours." - -No flicker of emotion showed in Zenaor's lean, high-boned face. "And do -you believe him?" - -"Who am I to know or judge? Baemae are only good for dying!" The youth -gave vent to a bitter laugh. "But at least the far Federation thought -the peril was worth a starship." - -"And the man--the one they send to weigh the facts here?" - -"His name is Craig Nesom. I know no more than that about him." - -Silence. An eddying sort of silence that crept in from the walls and up -from the floors and down out of the ceiling. - -Then, abruptly, the Lord Zenaor laughed. - -"So you'll die," he clipped. "But at least you shall go knowing that -you're the only man, Baemae or baron, to learn the truth about my -weapon. You shall judge it for me with your dying breath--prove to me -that it can truly give me power and strength for conquest...." - -He was striding away even as he spoke--striding across the room to a -wall set off with a delicate interlay of panels. - -One slid aside beneath his hand. Beyond lay a chill, bleak laboratory -chamber. - -Still smiling, Zenaor led the shackled Baemae forward ... shoved him -through a port-like door into a transparent cubicle mounted on a stand. - -"Now ... one moment...." With quick efficiency, the chief of barons -closed the cubicle's door and sealed it. Then, taking a tiny glass -ampule from the nearest bench, he dropped it into a slot atop the -cubicle and brought down a crusher valve upon it. - - * * * * * - -The ampule splintered. For an instant light glinted on sparkling, -dust-like grains descending, floating out in lazy spirals through the -sealed cubicle's still air. - -But only for an instant. For then, suddenly, the grains were growing, -uniting, multiplying, melding. In a finger-snap, grey slime began to -form on the unit's glistening, sterile floor. - -A slime that swirled and crawled and eddied.... - -The shackled serfman screamed. - -Not that anyone could hear it. The cubicle was far too skillfully -designed for that. - -With grim satisfaction, cold appraisal, the Lord Zenaor watched the -slime-tide rippling higher. Carefully, he noted reaction time ... the -victim's grimaces and contortions and frantic terror. - -So preoccupied was he that he didn't even hear Narla approaching till -her voice rang out behind him, raw with sudden shock: "_Ourobos--!_" - -Zenaor spun by instinct. - -His daughter's lovely face showed stiff with horror. "Father...." She -choked; retched. - -Cold-eyed he waited till the spasm had passed before he spoke: "So ... -you find my secret shocking?" - -"Shocking--?" The girl's eyes held disbelief. Then: "Father, not even -Vydys would do such! To bring those horrors here from Xumar--" She -shuddered. "You would not! You dare not--" - -"I dare not?" Zenaor laughed harshly; gestured to the cubicle, and the -dying serfman engulfed in slime. "I have already done it!" - -"Then--you would destroy our world--the Baemae--?" The girl's voice was -queer, choked. - -"Are there only Baemae, then, on Lysor?" Anger carved Zenaor's jaw-line -deeper, sharper. "I am of the Kukzubas, Narla; the barons! My loyalty -is to them, for from them I draw my power." - -"Your power!" Narla came erect at the word. "There is the answer, -father! Your loyalty is not to the barons or to Lysor, but to power -alone. You live for it. You bow before no other god." - -"And so?" Zenaor stood inflexible as duroid. - -The girl gestured helplessly. "What can I say, when not even the fate -of our world can touch you?" - -"Our world--this puny dot that men call Lysor?" Zenaor laughed aloud. -"This planet of ours means nothing, Narla! By using the slime-things, -the ourobos, I can reach out across the void till even the far -Federation's chiefs will tremble! Nothing can stop me! Nothing!" - -"I see." Narla's face was pale now, and her lips quivered. But she -stood proud and erect. "Then I have no choice, father. My loyalty is to -Lysor. I shall fulfill it." - -"Even against me?" - -"Even against you." - -"So Vydys was right...." The chief of barons' coal-black eyes gleamed -hard and bitter. "Very well, then. As of this moment you shall be -treated as a prisoner--" - -The clang of a com-box bell cut in upon him. Zenaor left his sentence -hanging; flicked the switch. "Yes?" - -"My lord, a starship seeks to land here." - -"A starship--?" Zenaor stiffened. - -"Yes, my lord. The message says it bears an envoy from the Federation." - -"His name?" - -"Craig Nesom." - -Slowly, Zenaor straightened. Cold-eyed, he glanced to the glassite -cubicle ... the dead serfman, swallowed up in the pulsing slime-mass of -the ourobos. He was hardly aware that Narla was stepping quietly from -the laboratory chamber. - -Again, the voice from the com-box: "My lord...." - -Harsh-voiced, face set, Zenaor threw back his answer: "Let them land." -And then, beneath his breath: "But blasting off alive will be another -matter!" - - - - - CHAPTER II - - -She was the loveliest creature Craig Nesom had ever seen. - -Or perhaps that was only the hunger gnawing in him--the Earth-hunger, -the aching loneliness that comes to all men who dare to roam the far -void to the stars. - -Yet here he stood, on this strange, mediaevalish world of Lysor. - -And here _she_ stood before him, smiling. - -Suddenly, to Craig Nesom, it didn't matter that they were met in an -alien city called Torneulan, or that she was Narla, daughter of Lord -Zenaor, whose rule here he had come to question. The crowd's clamor, -the bizarre costumes, the twin suns blazing like green balls of fire -against an emerald sky--what did they count now? For gazing into this -slim girl's eyes, he could almost forget duty and the Federation and -the starship, the darkling dreams of friends and homeland. - -She said, "_Tarata, fodal_.... Welcome, voyager," and he was glad -that she paused and smiled and spoke ... glad for the psychmen's -hypnoscanner treatment that let him understand her words, her meaning. - -He matched her pleasantry. "This drink called taxat--will you join me -for one?" - -"A taxat--?" Her eyes danced. She took his arm. "Of course." - -Only then, though her lips still curved, the grey eyes seemed to -shadow. Her voice dropped and now, all at once, it held a note of -bitterness, of tension: "If death stays its hand long enough for us to -drink it." - -He stared. "_What--?_" - -The shadow vanished. His companion laughed softly; tossed her head in -a gesture old as woman, so that the shimmering blonde hair swirled -and rippled. Only in her whisper did the dark undercurrent still show -through: "Please, come! Do not let your face betray us!" - -For the fraction of a second Craig hesitated, weighing her with his -eyes. Of a sudden he was acutely aware of alien sounds and smells and -voices. - -Only then the girl whispered, "Please...." again. Her eyes held mute -entreaty. - -Stiff, wordless, Craig let her lead him through the throng and din of -the assembled barons and their ladies ... out of the emerald sunlight, -along the shadowy porticos of the tower itself. - -The Central Tower. The Tower of Zenaor. - -The girl darted a quick glance back over her shoulder, then whispered, -"Hurry! We must get out before they realize that we are missing!" -Catching Craig's hand in hers, half-running, she pulled him through the -nearest door, into the massive building. - -There were corridors, then, and stairs and ramps, all leading downward, -till at last they moved along a dusty, dim-lit passageway that seemed -to stretch forever, echoing and empty. - -Abruptly, Craig pulled the girl up short. "It's time for explanations," -he clipped flatly. - -The grey eyes rose to meet his, cool and steady. "You came to Lysor on -complaint of Tumek, did you not?" - -"Yes." - -"And he charged that my father planned aggression that might endanger -even your Federation?" - -Again, Craig nodded. - -The girl leaned close. "Do you realize what that means, Craig Nesom? -Can you imagine to what lengths the barons will go in order to keep you -from reaching Tumek?" - -"But--" - -A sudden echo of distant voices cut short Craig's answer. The girl went -rigid. - -"Quick!" Her voice hissed taut, now; ragged. "This may be your only -chance to contact Tumek--if it is not too late already!" - -After that there was no more time for words; only a hurrying through -the silent passage, till at last a ramp loomed before them and they -came out into the day once more. - - * * * * * - -Here the tower loomed distant and forbidding, a stark shaft lancing -up like a spear-head into the emerald sky. Here were the slums, the -quarters of the Baemae, with noise and filth and sweat-drenched bodies -that stank rank enough to turn the stomach of any Kukzubas baron. - -Wordless, still gripping his hand, the girl who was Zenaor's daughter -led Craig into a low, cramped wineshop. Dirt scuffed up under his -feet. Boisterous voices rang out in shouts and curses, and the stench -of stale liquor hung all-pervasive. A couple reeled past, clinging to -each other for support. The woman's brief halter hung loose. She was -laughing drunkenly, and her near-naked body shone slick with sweat. -Beyond her, a man prodded a huge, weird, spider-like lifeform into a -shuffling dance atop a table. - -Craig's jaw tightened. What was he doing in a place like this? How -foolish could even a Federation agent get? - -But the girl's grey eyes still pleaded. Tense, raw-nerved, Craig, -followed her through the crowd and din to a table in the wineshop's -farthest corner. - -A gaunt, stoop-shouldered oldster paused beside them. He wore the -tabard of the serf-class. "Yes?" - -"Taxat." The girl spoke for Craig. Her fingers pressed hard against -his arm. Her whisper held a note almost of panic: "Quick! Smile, Craig -Nesom--before the baron's men suspect the truth and sweep down on us!" - -Craig flicked a glance across the room. For the first time he became -aware of the presence of solitary loungers--cold-faced, tight-lipped -men who stood close by the walls, nursing stale drinks. - -Their eyes were on him. - -The back of his neck prickled. He bared his teeth in a thin, bleak -grin. "I might play better if I knew the game," he murmured beneath his -breath. - -"Oh--?" the girl exclaimed, too loudly. She shot Craig a low-lashed, -coquettish glance and pushed closer, sliding her hand over his. Her -lips barely moved. "Later, you madman! For now, look at me as men look -at woman!" - -She drew back as she spoke, flaunting her slim young body's charms -before him in a sinuous, sensuous motion. Her face was a pale oval -cameo of loveliness. Temptation, incarnate, came to life in the lithe -twist of her torso. - -Craig caught his breath. "You devil--!" - -The red lips quivered. "You see? You learn quickly!" The girl relaxed, -leaned against him. "Make love to me, voyager. Your arms--put them -about me. Kiss me...." - -A numbness gripped Craig. His hands trembled. - -But the girl's bare leg and hip pressed hard against him. Her hair -brushed his cheek, soft as perfumed silk, and her skin was smoother -than any satin. "Are you afraid of me, then, Craig Nesom?" - -"Damn you!" he choked. - -Only then her cool fingers slid beneath his uniform jacket, and all -at once his heart was pounding, pounding. The room, the noise, the -cold-eyed loungers--they faded till he could think of nothing but the -ripe lips and their invitation. - -It was the loneliness, he told himself; the old Earth-hunger. - -And here was this woman, Zenaor's own daughter, the antidote, his for -the taking. - -He would have strained her to him, then, in spite of all his doubts and -thoughts of Federation rules and duty. But now the serving-serf was -back, bearing twin silver cones of taxat. - -The girl pushed away from Craig, smoothing her tousled hair. Her face -was flushed. Her eyes dodged his. - -A sort of senseless fury gripped him. "It's you who are afraid!" he -lashed. "You bring me here. You tempt me. But then you push away -again--" - -The girl's eyes flashed. Once more, she leaned close. Her voice was -suddenly edged and brittle. "My task is to help you get to Tumek, -Earthman. To that end, and in order to help dispel suspicion, I have -no choice but to act like any Kukzubas woman who would rendezvous with -a lover in the Baemae quarter. But it goes no further. Now that I have -brought you here, a courier will take you on to Tumek. When he comes--" - -She broke off sharply, eyes flaring sudden panic. "Craig--!" - -Craig half-turned in his seat. - - * * * * * - -A man stood framed in the wineshop's doorway--a tall broad-shouldered -man who wore a high-crowned metal helmet like none that Craig had ever -seen before. His sweeping shoulder-cape bore the blaze of brocaded -heraldry of Lord Zenaor's service, and his eyes, his mouth, were cruel -and grim. - -Now he paused on the wineshop's threshold, sweeping the place with a -glance that held no mercy. - -A hush fell over the echoing, low-ceilinged room--the hush of fear. -Men's faces paled, and women shrank back as if to hide behind their -partners. - -Beside Craig, Narla whispered, "That man--he is my father's chief of -guards, the master of the rollers! They must already guess you're on -your way to Tumek--" - -Once more, Craig glanced round at the doorway--and found himself -staring straight into the guard-chief's eyes. - -For a taut, vibrant moment the silence echoed. Then the man in the -doorway lashed, "On your feet, Earthling!" - -Craig felt Narla's nails dig into his arm. Her whisper hissed so faint -it might have been imagination: "Window--room behind this...." - -A knot drew tight in Craig Nesom's belly. Stiffly, he rose ... -side-stepped out from behind the table. - -The hush of the room was deafening now. The wineshop revelers sat like -creatures frozen. - -"You die now, Earthling!" snarled the guard-chief. "Here, beneath the -rollers, by Lord Zenaor's own orders." - -He stepped aside as he spoke. A great, bulbous sphere rolled slowly -past him through the doorway. - -Instinctively, Craig fell back a step. - -"Stop him!" barked the guard-chief. - -The words crackled. Two hard-faced loungers by the rear wall sprang -forward. - -Inside Craig Nesom, something snapped. It came to him, of a sudden, -that here lay the answer to all his tension and loneliness and homeland -hunger. Here, channeled into rage and bruising violence.... - -With a curse, he smashed a fist square into the face of the foremost of -his assailants. A hoarse cry of anguish burst from the man's throat. He -crashed back across the nearest table. - -Like lightning, the hand of the second flashed to an ornate belt-dagger. - -Craig lunged for him in chill, surging fury. Savagely, he drove his -elbow into the soft flesh below the other's rib-casing. - -The man reeled--retching, knife forgotten. - -Craig caught him from behind by belt and shoulder ... half-hurled him -into the path of the roller that now spun forward. - -Man and sphere came together with a thud of flesh against flesh. - -Man went down, screaming. - -But now other guardsmen were charging in. Whirling, Craig dashed for -the door to the back room. In another instant he was through it, -racing for the window. - -A bolt of green fire seared past his head. - -He ducked. - -But in the same instant, something struck his shoulder a hammer blow -from behind. He sprawled on his knees. Through a strange, blurred haze -of pain, it dawned on him that now his right arm hung limp and useless. - -Only then hands gripped him and dragged him forward, on to the window. -Incredulously, he discovered that it was the serving-serf, the grey, -stoop-shouldered oldster who had brought the taxat. - -"Hurry--!" the man panted. "Climb up! I am not strong enough to lift -you...." - -With a tremendous effort, Craig dragged himself erect. Clutching the -high sill, he tried to pull himself up to it. - -The panting serfman heaved and boosted. "Hurry! Hurry--!" - -A final surge. Momentarily, Craig sagged on his belly on the sill. - -The serf tugged up the hanging legs and swung them through the opening. - -From behind Craig came a crash of splintering timbers, a ring of -curses. He threw a dazed glance back. - -Someone--the serf, perhaps?--had slammed shut a heavy door between -this rear room and the wineshop proper. - -Now its bolt tore loose. The door burst inward. One of Zenaor's men -clawed past it, whipping up a weapon that might have been a pistol. - -The old serf threw himself upon the guardsman. - -Green fire blazed. The serf fell back. - - * * * * * - -Craig dropped from the window-sill into an alley. The haze of pain was -clearing now. He could run again, though his right arm still trailed -useless at his side. - -Desperate, a hunted thing, he plunged off down the passage. - -More cries behind him. More green fire blazing. - -But these ancient alleys were like a maze, a rabbit-warren. Given ten -seconds' lead, a man had at least a gambler's chance to lose himself, -find safety. - -And Craig had ten seconds ... ten seconds a grey-thatched serving serf -had bought with his own life. - -The knowledge brought new sickness surging through Craig--a sickness -that drew no fragment from the pain of his wounded shoulder. - -But he had no time for thoughts or bitterness or brooding. Not now. For -him, there were only the shouts behind and the blackness of the alley. - -Only then, from his backtrail, a new sound rose ... the whisper of a -roller's leathery pads spinning over the cobbles. - -Craig whirled. - -Running blind, caroming from wall to wall as it sped through the narrow -alley, the sphere raced towards him. - -Craig threw himself into the angle of the nearest doorway. - -The sphere missed him by inches; hurtled on beyond. - -Sweating, shaking, Craig stepped out once more. - -But now the shouts came closer as guardsmen ran towards him, following -up the roller. - -Pivoting, Craig stumbled on once more. - -Before he had taken a dozen steps, the whispering of the roller drifted -to him. - -The sphere was hurtling back again. - -Panting, Craig wedged himself into the chimney-like shaft between two -buildings. - -Again, the roller passed him. The guards' shouts echoed ever-louder. - -It dawned on Craig that the crevice in which he stood stretched upward, -clear to a tiny wedge of emerald sky. - -At least, up there, there'd be no rollers. - -Wincing with pain at each movement of his wounded arm, bracing himself -with feet on one wall, back against the other, he worked his way slowly -up the shaft. - -The roller again. Guards below him now. - -Craig held his breath. - -But they passed on without an upward glance. Painfully, he worked his -way still higher, till the emerald wedge widened into a shining vista. - -Then--of a sudden, it seemed--he was out on a flat, sagging roof, -drinking in air in great, greedy gulps. - -In the same instant, a shout hammered at him. He whirled. - -A guard was running towards him across one of the nearby roofs. While -he watched, another appeared, then another. - -Ring-like, they surrounded him, hemming him in with a circle of death. - -And him with no weapon but the rooftop rubble. - -Savagely, he cursed aloud--Zenaor, and Lysor, and the Federation, -and his job, and duty, and the girl called Narla; baron and Baemae, -Earth-worlds and aliens. - -Why should he die here, alone and forgotten? - -Yet die he would: he knew that now. - -But at least, it would cost them. - -He fumbled up a brick-sized stone ... took his stand against the -roof-edge, spraddle-legged. - -The guards closed in--warily, now, but moving ever closer. - -It was in that moment that the shadow fell across him. - -At first Craig thought it was a cloud that had drifted between him and -the twin emerald suns. - -Then he glimpsed the guards' faces, and knew it was not. - -Dropping to one knee, left arm held high to shield his face, he stared -up at the thing now skimming towards him. - -It was a disc--a shining, circular chip somehow suspended in the sky. A -man in a Baemae tabard balanced lithely on it. - -Now, while Craig watched, the disc tilted and raced towards him. - -A guard shouted. As one, he and his fellows lunged forward. - - * * * * * - -Craig hurled his stone. By more luck than good judgment, it caught the -foremost guard square in the forehead. - -The man went down like an axed ox. His fellows stopped short. - -In the same instant the disc whipped round in a tight spiral close by -Craig's side. "Get on! Flat between my legs...." The rider's voice -rasped raw and urgent. - -Craig threw himself aboard. - -Angry cries from the guards. Green fire spurting. - -A shout from the discman: "Hold tight!" - -Barely in time. Craig caught the disc's rim. - -For as he did so, the disc's Baemae rider shifted weight sharply. With -startling suddenness, the saucer tilted to a forty-five degree angle. - -Another shift. The disc cartwheeled round in a fast spin that had Craig -clinging with teeth and toenails. - -Then the strange craft was climbing and spinning at once, faster and -faster. Even the Baemae pilot dropped to his knees and gripped the -disc's edge. - -They cleared the roof ... peeled off in a wide arc that carried them -out and away from the building, still climbing. - -The guards' shouts welled to a furious chorus of frustration. Craig -glimpsed more streaks of flame. - -But they burned out far short of their target. The disc wheeled on, the -whole of the ancient Baemae quarter spread out below it. - -The serf's fingers dug into Craig's shoulder. He was laughing now--a -fierce, bubbling chortle of triumphs. "You see, Earthman? These discs -will free Lysor of its thrice-cursed barons! With your aid, Craig -Nesom--" - -Craig started. "You ... know my name--?" - -"Did you think I came here to save you by mere chance?" The discman -chuckled. "No. I was your contact, to help take you to Tumek. But -Zenaor's guardsmen got to you before me. So I stood by and waited, in -hopes I could save you." - -Craig nodded slowly. "Then you can give me some answers, too--about -this whole business." - -"A few." The discman straightened. "But that can wait till we have -landed...." - -Skillfully, he guided the disc off, away from the city; brought it down -on a tiny, brush-clotted river island. Stepping clear, he helped Craig -up and gripped his hand. "They call me Bukal." - -"And you know me already." - -They both laughed. Then the discman's broad, bronzed face sobered. "You -seek explanations...." - -"At least, they'd help me," Craig nodded, grinning wryly. - -"Then they must be brief. That Zenaor's a devil. He'll trace us in -minutes, on a daylight landing." Bukal kicked the disc. "Do you know -what this is?" - -Craig eyed it curiously. Flat, polished, of plastic or metal, it -measured a good six feet across. Beyond that, he could tell little, -save that it had neither moving parts nor control equipment, so far as -he could see. - -"It flies, and it saved my neck," he said finally. "That's all I know -about it." - -Again, Bukal laughed. A grim laugh without mirth. "Then I'll tell you -rover. This thing is a weapon--a weapon of peace, one that can't kill; -yet it's going to break the cursed Kukzubas barons' power forever." - -"But how--?" Craig groped for words. - -"How does it work, you mean?" The bronzed, stocky Bukal chuckled. -"Magnetic waves--you know about them?" - -"Yes, after a fashion." - -"Then think of them flowing from pole to pole like some great river." - -Craig stared. "You mean--these discs of yours ride the current--?" - -"As chips ride a stream," the other nodded. "The secret lies in -the alloy's basic pattern, its molecular structure. It serves as a -filter--a trap that catches enough wave-power to lift and carry." - -"And to maneuver--" - -"You tilt the disc. That breaks the flow-pattern." Shifting, Craig's -rescuer peered out through the brush that fringed the river's edge. He -gestured. "When our visitors get closer, I'll show you." - - * * * * * - -Craig followed the other's movement: saw a boatload of men in guards' -regalia cutting swiftly toward the islet from the river's near shore. - -"They're quick," he acknowledged. And then, prompting: "You said discs -were weapons." - -Bukal's eyes went dark, brooding. "How much do you know of our ways -here on Lysor?" - -"Only that you have two groups, barons and Baemae--" - -"Do you know how the barons hold their power?" - -"No." - -"They do it with a weapon--a barrier ray, they call it--" Bukal's mouth -had a bitter twist--"It sets up zones of death around the cities, the -great estates--binds us to our serfdom." - -"And the discs--" - -"They give us a bridge across the barrier--a highway to freedom to end -our thousand years of bondage!" Of a sudden a tight wolf-grin wiped the -bitterness from Bukal's broad face. He surged to his feet. "Here. Let -me show you!" - -A cry of excitement rose from the guardsmen out on the river. The boat -arced towards Craig and bronzed Bukal. - -The Baemae laughed aloud. Bending, he seized the disc and lifted it on -edge. "You see? It is light!" - -Craig brought up his own hand beneath it. For all its size, the thing -seemed hardly heavier than balsa. - -Gesturing him back, Bukal swung the disc clear of the ground, holding -it waist-high, plate-flat. "Now, I spin it...." He whipped it round as -if its center were mounted on a pivot, pulling through with his right -hand, guiding with the left. - -The boat was almost to the island now. The guards were readying their -weapons. - -Faster, till the wave-flow catches.... The disc was spinning like a top -now, parallel with the ground. - -Craig threw a quick glance at the guard-boat. A trickle of sweat rilled -down his spine. - -He looked back to Bukal and the saucer. - -Suddenly, there was the slightest of jerks. The disc seemed to vibrate. - -Bukal dropped his hands. For a moment the disc hung in the air, -spinning free. - -And then, incredibly, instead of falling, slowly it began to rise! - -Open-mouthed, Craig stared, still not quite believing. - -But already, Bukal, was moving. Nimbly, he threw himself forward, flat -on the disc. - -The plate stopped spinning. As if by magic, it hung suspended in the -air, swaying gently. - -Bukal clambered to his feet, balancing on the polished surface as a -bather might upon a surfboard. Tilting skillfully, he sideslipped the -strange craft down a fraction lower. "Get on!" - -Sucking in a breath, Craig slid aboard. - -Bare yards away, the boat beached. Guards swarmed ashore, cursing and -shouting. - -Nonchalantly, Bukal threw them a salute, and brought the disc round in -a lazy, climbing spiral. - -Green fire, falling short. Fuming rage, wild curses. - -"You see--?" The elation of triumph rang in Bukal's voice. "It's the -end of the barons, Earthman! How can any barriers hold back the Baemae, -when with discs like this we can sail above them? To the south, there's -the whole djevoda range and freedom! Already, we've colonies of our own -down there, free colonies, spread out so the barons can't strike at -them. We're turning out these discs by hundreds--emptying the cities, -stripping the estates to their last serfman--" - -Frowning, narrow-eyed, Craig stared down at the panorama spread out -below them, then off to the glittering towers of Torneulan. - -"Why send for me, then?" he cut in on the other. "Who's Tumek? What -made him call for help from the Federation?" - -The discman's face sobered. "Why--?" He shrugged. "That I can't tell -you; it's still Tumek's secret." - -"And ... who is he?" - -"Tumek?" Light came back to Bukal's bronzed face. "Call him genius: -that says it." - -"But--" - -"A statue-caster by trade; old, now; one of the free Baemae craftsmen. -These discs--he devised them. The colonies, too--they're part of his -plan." - -"Yet he sent for help...." Craig's frown deepened. - -"He heard rumors of some new scheme of Zenaor's." Bukal shifted, -glanced up into the darkening sky. Tilting the disc, he crept it in -towards the outskirts of the city's bleak Baemae quarter. "When the -green day suns, Boh and Koh, set, and night comes, I'll drop you off -near him. He's hiding in the shop of a friend, Notal, in the Street of -Arts, waiting for you." - -Craig nodded slowly. Thoughtfully, he looked away to the west, where -the nose of the starship showed above the buildings like a slim silver -lance-tip. "Good. Meantime...." - -"Yes?" - -"Meantime--" - - * * * * * - -It was a sentence never finished. Suddenly, out of a gap in the -roof of a ruined building below them, a blurred bulky mass vomited -towards them. Spreading as it hurtled upward, it stretched into -loose-patterned cordage. - -Bukal went rigid. "A net-gun--!" He sideslipped the disc. It careened -low over the hovels. - -But green flame speared up in their path--a great, roaring gout of it, -ten times the size of the blast that might come from any hand weapon. - -Bukal jerked back. The disc spun crazily. - -Then they were falling, men and disc alike, clinging precariously. -Barely in time, the craft leveled off a fraction, then tilted once more -to spill both Craig and Bukal to the ground, a jarring, ten-foot fall. - -Guardsmen lunged up from cover, converging upon them. - -Craig lurched to his feet, trying to shake the haze from his eyes. - -But Bukal was ahead of him--shoving him bodily back into an alley. "Run -for it, you fool! I'll hold them--" - -Staggering, half-falling, Craig fled into the shadows. - -The starship. That was the answer. If he could only reach the starship! -This thing was beyond any one man's handling.... - -Panting, he crawled up a crumbling stair, searching the skyline for -some glimpse of the silver prow to guide him. - -Then there it was, off to the west. - -Craig's jaw tightened. That slim silver craft represented the strength -of the whole Federation. One word from it, and a fleet would come -roaring down upon Lysor. - -But first, that word must be spoken. - -He phrased the message in his mind: "DETAILS LACKING BUT NO DOUBT OF -ZENAOR AGGRESSIVE INTENTIONS AS SHOWN IN ATTEMPTS TO KILL ENVOY...." - -He started to turn, to make his way back down the stairs. - -But in that instant the sky went suddenly bright with a blaze of -light ... a light so dazzling that it left Craig blind and shaking. - -A light that centered on the starship. - -Craig clapped his hands across his eyes. A wave of sudden panic gripped -him. - -Grimly--desperately, almost--he fought it down. - -Slowly, his vision cleared. He let his hands fall. - -Then he wished he had not. - -For now the starship's silver prow no longer stood silhouetted against -the distant western sky. As if by magic, it had vanished, its passage -marked only by a slowly settling dust-smoke haze. - -So this was Zenaor's answer to the Baemae challenge. He had destroyed -the Federation starship. - -Craig Nesom stood on Lysor alone.... - - - - - CHAPTER III - - -The Street of Arts. Narrow and winding, lined with the small, cramped -shops of skilled craftsmen who wrought wondrous things of wood and -leather, glass and metal. Here you could buy the finest filigree of -silver... paintings on porcelain or plastic ... figurines carved from -djevoda tusks ... fabrics that glinted with threads of Xumarian thril -and Odak's orlon. - -And here hid Tumek. - -Tumek, the statue-caster. Tumek, the sculptor. - -Tumek, genius of the Baemae ... the man who had devised the flying disc -and harnessed the power that surged through his world's magnetic waves. - -Yet even Tumek had cringed before Zenaor's sadistic schemings and -pleaded across a million drals of void for Federation aid. - -Now, on Bukal's word, he lay in hiding here in the shop of his fellow -caster Notal, waiting for the Federation's envoy to arrive. - -At least, Craig Nesom hoped so. - -Pausing in the shadows across from Notal's shop, he hesitated for a -moment, studying the darkened front with its display of busts that -peered out, wan and ghost-like, in the blue night-sun Roh's dim light. - -Somewhere at the back of the shop, a gleam of yellow flickered. - -So there was really someone there. Taut-nerved, Craig started forward. - -Only then, off to his right, metal clanged on metal. - -Craig froze again. - -More sounds crept to him ... sounds of shuffling feet, of men in -movement. - -Silent as any spectre, he drew back against the building behind him ... -slid left along it till he was lost in the pitch-black angle where the -next shop joined it. - -The shuffling feet drew nearer. Craig caught the hiss of whispering -voices. Shapes took form--the shapes of men stalking stealthily, -skulking in the shadows. - -Warily, Craig edged forward a fraction and peered along the front of -the shop to his left. - -But here, too, shapes were emerging from the murk. A stray blue beam -glinted on what might have been a weapon. - -Craig slid back into his angle. - -The two groups met in mid-street, scant yards out from him. There was a -buzz of whispered consultation. Then, silently, both groups drew back. -The men spread out, ranging themselves along the wall on his side of -the street. - -Craig held his breath. - -But already one figure was shuffling towards him, slouching against the -wall bare inches from his shoulder. "A curse on the Baemae and their -plots!" the intruder muttered. "Night's a time for wine and wenches, -not for raiding." - -Craig grunted wordless affirmation. - -The stranger turned, peered at him. "Who are you, friend? Which -company?" And then, in sudden shock: "You! You're not--" - -With all his might, Craig slashed a stiff hand-edge across the other's -windpipe, his Adam's apple. The man's voice cut off in mid-syllable. - -Craig crashed the heel of his hand up under a stubbled chin, thanking -the stars that his shoulder was no longer stiff. The intruder's head -snapped back against the stonework. Hard. - -Then his knees were buckling. He started to fall. - -Craig caught him, held him erect. - -In the same instant a whistle shrilled. The other shadow-skulkers -leaped forward from their hiding places, converging on the shop -across the street where Tumek had his refuge. They made no effort at -concealment now. There were shouts; a splintering crash as the door -burst in. - - * * * * * - -Icy sweat drenched Craig. Shaking, he eased his unconscious prisoner to -the ground in the shadows of the angle and stripped him of the weapon -in his belt--one of the pistol-things that blazed green fire. - -Inside Notal's shop, another door went down. Craig glimpsed struggling -figures silhouetted against a backdrop of yellow light. - -All along the street, windows swung wide and doors opened. Lights -flared. Voices rang out in a startled babble. - -A man appeared in the entrance of the shop before which Craig stood, -rubbing sleep from his eyes. "What--?" - -In three quick steps Craig was beside him--jamming the fire-gun against -his fat belly; shoving him back on his own tracks into the building; -slamming and bolting the door behind them. - -Fear flared in the fat man's button eyes. His blubbery face went slack. - -"Quiet!" Craig stabbed the pistol against him harder. "One sound and I -kill you!" - -The other's mouth worked, but no words came. He tottered backward and -slumped down onto a bench. - -Craig opened the door a crack and shot a quick glance out. - -The raiders were leaving Notal's shop now. They dragged a captive with -them, a short, balding man whose face showed the wrinkles of age. - -Craig turned back to his own prisoner. "Who is that?" - -The fat man's voice shook: "He is called ... Tumek." - -Tumek.... - -A chill shook Craig Nesom. - -Across the street, the last of the raiders inside the shop paused by -the display window. Deliberately, he picked up one bust after another -and smashed it. The last he hurled through the window itself, then -swaggered out to join the others. Their laughter echoed raucously. - -Then someone barked a command. The laughter ceased. With chill -efficiency a group fell in, formed a double rank facing Notal's shop. - -Another command. Two of the guardsmen caught the prisoner by the arms -and jerked him forward, slamming him back hard against one of the -uprights of the shop-front. Then, quickly, they stepped aside. - -Again, the harsh voice of command. - -The double rank raised weapons. - -Inside the shop across the street, Craig went rigid. - -Out there, mere feet away, stood the man who'd brought him to this -planet, the Baemae genius, Tumek. - -Tumek, the one man who could tell him the things he so needed to -know--the baron's plans; the dreams and schemes and power of Zenaor. - -Only Tumek stood before a firing squad. Ten seconds more and he'd be -dead. - -Craig acted by instinct, then; not logic. - -Quite coolly, he brought up the fire-gun he'd taken from the -guardsman ... leveled it with grim precision at the squad's commander. - -The man passed some remark to Tumek. But the oldster only shook his -head and stood the straighter, face calm, serene ... almost spiritual. - -Craig corrected his aim a fraction. - -The firing squad's commander pivoted ... sucked in air to give the -final order. - -Craig squeezed the fire-gun's trigger. - -A green shaft of flame lanced out. It struck the squad chief square -in the chest. He slammed backward--face contorted in a death's-head -grimace; already toppling. - -The squad seemed to freeze in its tracks. Then, as the spell broke, one -man started to whirl, whipping round his own weapon. - -Craig dropped him where he stood. - -Chaos descended on the guardsmen. Frantically, they lunged for cover. - - * * * * * - -Crouched, shadow-silent, Craig slipped from the shop and moved through -the murk towards the spot where the prisoner had stood, trusting to -confusion and the dark to shield him. "Tumek...." - -Someone roared, "Look out! It's the Earthman!" - -The night turned dazzling green with fire-blasts. - -Craig dived through the shop's shattered window, skidding across the -floor on one shoulder. - -A hand clutched his arm. A cracked voice choked, "Craig Nesom--!" - -Craig twisted. Tumek's wrinkled face loomed, a dim blur in the gloom. - -"Quick! This way--" The old man wormed towards the rear of the building. - -Craig followed. - -Only then a dark figure was rising and shouting. A fire-gun blazed, -close at hand. - -Craig shot back. The looming antagonist fell away. - -Old Tumek fell with him. - -Stumbling to his feet, Craig heaved up the oldster's limp body. -With a strength born of sheer desperation, heedless of shouts and -fire-blasts, he lunged on, out the rear door of the building. - -A guard rose in their path. - -Craig shot him down and charged blindly on, deep into the black alley -shadows. - -A thin whisper from Tumek: "Right ... next crosspath.... Door ... -unlocked...." - -Craig veered. In seconds he was pushing past a heavy gate ... easing it -shut behind him once more. - -The sounds of the guards' rage faded. Gently, Craig lowered Tumek to -the ground. - -An acrid scent rose in his nostrils ... the scent of charred flesh. -With a shock, he became aware of the old Baemae's hoarse, labored -breathing. - -Numbly, he ran cautious fingers over the other's withered body. - -The flesh along Tumek's right rib-casing _crackled_! - -Then, slowly, the old eyes opened. The cracked voice spoke, the -faintest of whispers: "You ... are the Earthman--the Federation agent?" - -Mute sick, Craig nodded. - -"Good." The eyes closed again, as if suddenly too heavy. - -But only for a moment: "Earthman...." - -"Yes." - -"Ourobos ... from Xumar--they are Zenaor's weapon." - -"Ourobos--?" Craig strained close. "Tumek, what are they?" - -"A ... lifeform. Zenaor's daughter can tell you." The voice of the old -Baemae grew weaker. - -"Zenaor's daughter--!" - -"Yes. Narla...." - -"But--" - -"Only ... one weapon ... against ourobos--crystal." - -"Crystal--?" - -"Ourobos...." The old man's face was slack now, his words thick and -mumbled. It was as if he could no longer hear Craig's questions. -"Other planets, too ... not just Lysor. That's ... why I asked help. -Zenaor ... dreams of conquest." - -"Tumek--!" Craig choked. "Tumek, the crystal--tell me about that!" - -But again, he could not know if the other even heard. - -"Narla ..." the old man whispered, "see Narla...." And then: "Disc ... -on roof ... here...." - - * * * * * - -The words died in a rattle. Muscles tensed in a small convulsive -movement.... The mouth fell open. The old head sagged back. - -Tumek died. - -For a long, long moment, Craig Nesom slumped beside him. - -It was no end for genius. Not here, in a dirt-floored hovel off an -alley. - -Only that was death's way. It paid no heed to propriety or convenience. - -Nor to right, either, nor the needs of men. - -Without Tumek, the Baemae cause might go down to disaster. Lord Zenaor -could yet live to fulfill his dream of conquest, carve his path across -the universe with the ourobos. - -Unless the crystal stopped him. - -"The crystal"--that was all Tumek had said about it. Not what it was, -nor how to use it. - -But ... there was still Narla. - -Narla, of the cool grey eyes and flaxen hair. Narla, who laughed and -tempted--and then went cold with sudden fury. - -Narla, Lord Zenaor's own daughter. - -Tumek had said to see her. - -Slowly, Craig got up. Stiff, shuffling, weary, he made his way to the -room's one slot-like window. - -The night outside was brighter now, blue with Roh's chill rays. The -Kukzubas towers loomed sleek and shining, sheer to the very sky. - -And there was the Central Tower, also; the Tower of Zenaor--rising even -higher and more starkly than the rest. - -How could any man hope to get into that grim crypt to talk to Narla? -Every door would be locked, every entrance guarded. - -At least, on the lower levels. - -But higher, perhaps.... - -Thoughtfully, Craig appraised the towering structure. - -Invading it would be madness, pure and simple. - -And yet, with the starship shattered, what did he have to lose? - -Besides, Zenaor owed him a debt ... a debt that only blood could cancel. - -Blood. The blood of the starship's crew, and of the Baemae. Of Tumek, -and a grey-thatched serving-serf without a name. - -And on the roof here, Tumek had said, a disc lay ready. - -A disc, and a debt of blood, and the Tower of Zenaor. - -And Narla. - -Why was he hesitating? - -Cold-eyed, tight-lipped. Craig Nesom groped towards the stair.... - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - -The disc came down to the roof like a drifting feather. Stepping from -it, Craig paused for a moment, staring out with brow furrowed at the -spangled night of Torneulan. City of barons or city of Baemae, there -was beauty here in this silent moment. - -Only now was no time for beauty. Not here, atop Lord Zenaor's sleek, -shining fortress tower. - -Craig turned. - -A stair-housing rose near one edge of the flat, parapeted roof. -Crossing to it, he kicked out the door's translucent panel. - -Inside, now. The stairwell yawned like a black, bottomless pit. -Silently, Craig crept down the steps. - -There was another locked door at the bottom--and this one had no panel. - -Craig kicked it. - -It held firm. He kicked it again--unrestrained, now--and again, and -again, till the echoes rang round him in thunder-chorus. - -From beyond the portal came a beat of running feet. Someone fumbled -with the door's handle. - -Craig drew his fire-gun ... waited.... - -The door opened, a bare inch. - -Craig kicked it with all his might. - -The door burst open. A guard reeled back, clutching his face where the -swinging edge had struck him. - -Craig kicked him, too--first in the belly; then, when he doubled over, -in the face. - -The guard crumpled; lay still. - -Craig strode down the hall, trying doors. But the rooms they sealed -were empty, unfinished. - -Craig went back to the guard. - -The man was moaning now. His fingers dug spasmodically at the naked -tiles of the floor. - -Dragging him erect, Craig shoved him back flat against the wall. - -Slowly, the other's sagging head lifted. The glazed eyes cleared a -little. - -Craig held his voice cold and level: "Where's Zenaor?" - -"At ... this hour?" The swollen lips bubbled. "Down--seventh level." - -"And between?" - -"The guest chambers--Lady Vydys--her party." - -"Vydys...." Craig paused--frowning, searching his memory. Where had he -heard that name before? From Tumek, or Narla? Or in a report, while he -briefed for this mission? - -He scowled, probing. "Why are you here, then, when this level's empty?" - -"Why--? With Vydys in the tower?" The bloodshot eyes widened. "My lord -Zenaor loves life. He knows better than to trust her." - -The memories came back with a rush, if not their source. Vydys the -Cruel, chief of all Zenaor's rivals! Here, in this tower, tonight! - -Craig drew his lips thin. - -"Where's your post, scum?" - -"Below--force shaft." The guard gestured. "Heard you--kicking." - -Craig stepped aside. "Get back to it, then." He motioned with the -fire-gun. - -The guard shot him a bleared, uncertain glance. Then, shuffling, not -quite steady, one hand to the wall, the man moved ahead of Craig down -the hall to an alcove backed with twin sliding panels. Clutching the -grip of the one on the right, he pushed it back. - -Beyond lay a small, square room like a closet, but without floor or -ceiling. - -The guard stepped across the threshold. - -It was as if he had moved out onto an invisible platform. Erect, -motionless, he sank slowly down the shaft. - -Craig shot one breath-taking glance into the pit, and followed. - - * * * * * - -Instantly, a pulsing vibrance seemed to grip and hold him. Taut-nerved, -he stood rigid, drifting slowly down against the lift of an upward flow -of some strange current. - -Below him, the guard reached out and caught a metal hand-hold jutting -from the shaft's wall, then slid back a panel like the one above and -stepped out into a broad hall. - -But where the top level had shown stark and bare here lay luxury to -stagger man's imagination. The walls were a shimmering tapestry of -translucent color. Craig's feet sank into raaltex carpeting so thick -and soft that it was like stepping onto a cloud. - -He gripped the guard's arm. "Now--Vydys!" - -"This way." The other turned, shuffling ahead. "End chamber...." - -Craig shifted the fire-gun in his hand; laid the butt hard across the -guard's head behind the ear. - -The other crumpled to the floor, unconscious. Stripping off the man's -harness, Craig donned the livery himself and lashed his prisoner's -wrists and ankles, rolling him out of sight behind a long, sofa-like -seat. - -Then he was at the door, the door to the Lady Vydys' chambers. - -He paused for a moment, listening with his ear against the panel. - -No sound came. - -He gripped the handle ... turned it slowly ... let the weight of his -shoulder press against the door. - -Ever so slowly, it swung open a fraction. Craig peered into the living -room beyond--a place fully as ornate as the corridor, with furnishings -sleekly trimmed in polished chromite. - -Craig slipped inside and closed the door behind him. - -On the far side of the room, another door stood open. Noiselessly, -Craig crossed to it ... looked into a bedroom. A sleeping-couch, all -gold and white, rested against the far wall, framed in darkly glinting -mirrors. - -While he watched, the coverlet moved. A body shifted. - -Gripping the fire-gun, Craig walked warily to the couch-side. - -Black hair rippled against white pillows. A sleek body -twisted--sensuous, cat-like. - -Then the head turned. For the first time, Craig saw the face. - -A woman's face. The face of evil, incarnate, living in the fleshly form -that men called Lady Vydys. - -Yet she was lovely. Even here, even now, Craig Nesom's heart pounded as -he looked down on her. - -He rested his weight against a chair-arm; raised the fire-gun. -"Vydys...." - -She stirred in her sleep. The shadow of a frown crossed the lovely face. - -"Vydys!" - -Slowly, the soot-black lashes lifted. The dark eyes opened. - -Craig said softly, "Quiet my lady! Don't make me kill you!" - -She showed no sign of fear--no sudden tensing, no quick tremor. "You -know, of course, that your heart will be torn from your body for this, -carrion." Her voice was low and silky. - -"Will it?" Mirthlessly, Craig chuckled. - -Vydys' black eyes widened. She twisted beneath the coverlet. "You -are no guardsman!" And then--staring, rocked back with sudden shock: -"You--the Earthman--!" - -"Yes, the Earthman," Craig nodded bleakly. - -"But--what do you want--?" - -"You know a girl called Narla? Zenaor's daughter?" - -The dark eyes narrowed. "Yes...." - -"Would you trade me even for her?" - -A note of bafflement; a shifting: "Trade you--even....? - -"Yes." Craig leaned forward. "I want her, Vydys--and I'll give you -Zenaor's own head for her!" - -Vydys' hand came up to the ripe swell of her bosom. Scarlet lips peeled -back from small, sharp white teeth. "Zenaor's head--!" - -Again, Craig nodded. He let his own lips part in a tight wolf-grin. -"Let's talk straight, Vydys. You hate Zenaor for his power as chief -of barons. You know that the first safe chance he gets he'll cut your -lovely throat." - -"And so--?" - -"So your only chance is to get him first--before he finishes the -Baemae and decides to turn his full force on you." - -Of a sudden an irregularity developed in Vydys' breathing. The dark, -eyes smouldered. "You ... would help me with this, Earthman--?" - -Wordless, Craig tilted his head in affirmation. - -"Now--tonight--?" - -"Yes." - -"But why? What is your reason?" - -Craig smiled--a crooked smile. "I said I wanted Zenaor's daughter -Narla, Vydys. That means alive--both of us. I'll need help to handle -it." - - * * * * * - -The last traces of Vydys' hesitation vanished. She twisted; sat up on -the sleeping-couch, her face aglow with dark excitement. - -"He is on the seventh level, Earthman. If anyone should question, -tell him that you carry a message to Zenaor for me. Here, take this -signet--" She stripped a ring set with a carved black gem from a -slender finger; held it out to Craig. - -Not touching it, he said, "I've got a better idea." - -Vydys' smooth brow furrowed, ever so slightly. "What--?" - -"You go with me." - -She caught her breath. - -"You see?" Craig laughed harshly. "The picture changes when your neck's -in the noose along with mine." He got up; gestured peremptorily with -the fire-gun. "Come on!" - -Her nostrils flared. "And if I will not?" - -Craig paused; brought his weapon's muzzle up, steady and level. "A -blast from this at close range would sear your breasts till they -crackled, my lady." - -A quick-drawn breath. Fear was in the dark eyes now--fear, and ... -something else, something strange, hard to define. - -Then, wordless, the woman slid from the bed and pulled on shoes and a -diaphanous outer garment. - -Craig came close behind her. "Time's short." - -She shrugged; leaned against him for a moment. "Why do you want her, -Earthman--that pale slut, Narla?" - -Involuntarily, Craig stiffened, then stood wooden-faced, unmoving. "Why -does any man want a woman, my lady?" - -"A woman--?" Vydys' laugh held an edge of scorn ... or was it fury? -"You call that creature a woman, Earthman? There's water in her veins, -not blood!" - -Craig stepped away from her, not answering. - -For an instant lines of quick anger slashed Vydys' face. Then the -tempest faded. Together, the two of them, they went out through the -corridor to the force shaft. Rode it down in pulsing silence to the -seventh level. Walked echoing halls where the tension crawled like a -living thing. - -Ahead, an intersection loomed. Down the right-hand passage, a guard -paced slowly. - -Vydys breathed in sharply. "There--he watches over Zenaor's chambers!" - -Craig pushed her forward. - -The guard came about, his face a bleak mirror of suspicion. His hand -hovered by his weapon. - -Vydys said, "I seek the Lord Zenaor." - -"At this hour?" Irritation pushed aside distrust. "My lord sleeps." - -Ever so casually, Craig eased closer. - -"Are you sure?" Vydys' hand came up in a helpless, perplexed gesture. -"They told me--" - -Craig turned and side-stepped, as if to hear them both the better. - -The guard scowled. "Listen--" - -Craig brought up a hand as if to scratch his head--and then, pivoting, -smashed a blow to the guard's temple. - -The man staggered, clawing for his weapon. - -Craig caught his wrist in both hands; twisted. - -It spun the other around--off balance, still staggering. A kick to the -back of his knees buckled his legs. He sprawled flat on his face. - -Then, before Craig could move, Vydys threw herself on their fallen -foeman like a tigress. A slender, stilleto-like knife flashed in her -hand, lancing down into the soft hollow at the base of the guard's -skull. - -The man's body jerked once, spasmodically, then lay still. - - * * * * * - -Vydys came to her feet in one smooth, sinuous motion. She was breathing -hard. A strange, hot light of excitement gleamed in her eyes. - -Craig snatched the bloody knife out of her hand. "Why did you do that? -We could have tied him--" - -"So that he could talk later?" Teeth bared, she laughed, high and -keening. "No, Earthman! This way is better!" - -Craig looked from the dead guard to the knife. He could feel the hair -along the back of his neck rising. - -As if reading his thoughts, Vydys laughed again--low, this time; -taunting. "Did you think to find me defenseless, Earthman? Me, Vydys of -Cadilek?" She swayed close against him. "You have daring, warrior! That -is why I came with you; not out of fear." - -Craig pushed past her. "Come on, then--before Zenaor's men surprise -us." Bending, he dragged the dead guard up by the harness. - -Vydys' face was a mask, the dark eyes unfathomable. She turned and -pulled back the door's handle. - -The portal swung open. Wordless, Craig followed her into the room -beyond, dragging the corpse with him. - -A man's quarters, these--bleak, severe, without ostentation. Here no -mirror walls threw back the glint of polished chromoid. The raaltex -carpeting of the chambers above in this room was replaced with ostran -tile and schalagat. Dark leathers gleamed dully against the flat -contrast of iron-grey duroid. - -Cat-like, slim Vydys tiptoed to the sleeping chamber's entry. Her -breath hissed in the stillness as she looked in. - -Taut-nerved, Craig lowered the dead guard to the floor. - -But already Vydys was back beside him, slim hand outthrust. "My knife!" -It was a command. - -Craig stepped past her, not answering. In his turn, he peered through -the arch into the other chamber. - -Zenaor lay there, sleeping. Yet even at rest, the lean, high-boned -face showed no trace of slackness. The muscled hands still curled to -fists. - -"My knife!" Vydys whispered again, close to Craig's ear. "You promised -me his head, Earthman!" - -Craig stared down at her. - -The dark eyes glowed like twin coals now, and the skin of her face -seemed suddenly to have stretched tighter, replacing curves with planes -and hollows. The fingers that strained towards the dagger trembled -with a naked urgency, somehow obscene, as if in the blood-lust of this -moment the woman's very soul were spread out to the viewer, dark and -evil. - -Craig turned away ... looked again at the sleeping Zenaor. - -"Curse you, Earthman--!" Vydys panted. She clawed for the knife. - -For an instant their bodies strained together in silent struggle. Then, -suddenly, Vydys ceased to writhe and twist. Her body pulsed against -Craig's. - -His heart pounded. He clutched the woman to him. - -A voice said, "If you move, you die!" - -Craig froze. Ever so slowly, he brought his head round. - -Narla stood framed against a drape-shrouded door to his right. She -gripped a fire-gun in her hand. - -She raised her voice before he could speak. "Father!" - -Zenaor came awake with a twist, a jerk of covers. The coal-black eyes -gleamed beneath the heavy brows. "So--visitors!" And then, to Narla: -"My daughter...." - -"It's nothing. They spoke too loudly. I heard them." - -The fire-gun in her hand stayed very steady. - -"You'll not regret it." Zenaor groped a weapon of his own from a -stand by his sleeping-couch. His lips set in a thin, mirthless smile. -"Welcome, Vydys. You come in strange company." - -"He ... forced me...." - -"He forced you!" Mockery rang in Zenaor's harsh laughter. And then, the -mirth dying: "Woman, you go back to your chambers. Under open guard, -this time, with every man ordered to kill you if you so much as smile -at him." - -Vydys' lovely face flushed. "Zenaor, you dare not!" - -"Because if I do you'll kill me?" Of a sudden Zenaor's voice echoed -flat menace. "You'll try, you mean, you bitch--just as you tried here, -tonight. And you'll fail again. Only perhaps by then I'll have less -need to let you live for the sake of Kukzubas unity, and I can watch -you writhe and die instead, as you should die now!" - -There was silence, then--a taut, hate-surging silence. Eyes -smouldering, white to the lips, Vydys smoothed her gown, her hair. - - * * * * * - -Zenaor turned to Craig Nesom. "You, Earthman--now you, too, shall join -ranks with your fellows who died in the starship." - -Craig shrugged. In this time, this place, words were wasted. - -"But slowly," the chief of barons continued. "There are many things I -would ask you--things best brought out under torture: how you got here, -into my chambers; the plans of the Baemae; your relations with Vydys. -So, you die--but by inches." - -Craig shrugged again. - -The baron's eyes narrowed. A spark that might have been grim mirth -lighted behind them. "And ... there is another thing you should -know...." He spoke almost softly. "Your serf genius, Tumek, sought to -defeat me. With this." - -Left-handed, he reached into the stand beside the sleeping-couch once -more, and brought out a flat, black case perhaps six inches across. His -thumb touched a spring. The cover flew open. - -A great crystal gleamed on black orlon. - -In spite of himself, Craig Nesom went rigid. - -"You see? It ends here!" Zenaor chuckled. "What it means, how the serfs -were to use it against the weapon I plan to defeat them with, I do not -know. But whatever its purpose, I have it, and its maker lies dead." - -He snapped shut the case, dropped it back into the stand. "Back, now, -both of you, while I call the guards." - -The pulse in Craig Nesom's temple pounded. Turning, he started past -Narla towards the door. - -Her grey eyes dodged his. She stepped aside, fire-gun lowered. - -"Guards...." That was Zenaor, at the com-box. - -Craig stopped breathing, stopped thinking. Like lightning striking, he -leaped sidewise, pivoting--back, behind Narla. - -Zenaor roared a curse. - -But already, Craig was clawing the girl close against him, snatching -her fire-gun, blazing a flare straight at the baron. - -Zenaor dived over the sleeping-couch. The fireball seared into the wall. - -Craig jammed the gun against Narla. "Zenaor! If I die, she burns with -me!" - -Time stood still. Silence echoed. - -Again Craig lashed out: "Do you love her, Zenaor? Do you want her to -burn?" - -He could hear the rasp of the other's quick-drawn breath. "Curse you, -Earthman--!" - -"And curse _you_, Zenaor!" New recklessness surged through Craig. -"Curse you for all the blood you've shed; your arrogance, your lust for -power, your cruelty!" And then: "Vydys! Bring me that crystal!" - -Tension. The fire-gun's muzzle, leveling. - -Wordless, the woman obeyed. - -Craig gripped the jewel-case. "I'm leaving now, Zenaor--and Narla goes -with me! Warn your guards of that!" - -Silence again, broken only by the sound of heavy breathing. - -Craig drew Narla back, tight against him, a living shield. Holding her -close, he backed through the exit door. The girl was trembling now. He -could feel her heart pound. - -Then they were out in the corridor once more ... the same bleak, -echoing passageway through which he'd come with dark Vydys. - -Only that seemed an eternity ago, now. - -Jerking the door shut, dragging the girl by one wrist, Craig raced for -the force shaft. Slamming back the panel on the down-side, he jammed -it ajar. Then, sliding open the other unit, he pulled Narla into the -lift-current, closed the gate behind them, and let go of the hand-hold. - -Together, they surged upward, level after level. - -Narla's face showed pale and drawn. "Where ... are you taking me?" - -Craig laughed aloud. His head swam, as if he were suddenly drunk on -danger and recklessness and tension. "You'll see." - -Overhead, the shaft-cap loomed closer ... closer. They reached the top -level, hung there, suspended. - -Then Craig slid back the panel, and they stepped out into the bare, -echoing hallway's darkness. Still gripping the girl's wrist, he groped -his way up the stairway and out onto the flat top of the tower. - - * * * * * - -The disc still lay where he had left it. Far to the west, the sky was -already turning turquoise, Roh's blue beams dimming. In minutes the -great green morning sun called Boh would climb above the far horizon. - -Pulling Narla to the edge of the roof, Craig peered down. - -Ant-like, men were moving through the street below--spreading out, -forming a cordon. - -"Too bad I'll have to miss the reception." He chuckled and turned back -to Narla. "Now; about the crystal--" - -"The crystal--?" Her grey eyes clouded. "I know nothing of it." - -Craig stared. "But Tumek said--" - -"He sent it to me to hold for him. That was all. He never told me its -use." - -A numbness gripped Craig. - -The girl said, "Besides, even if I did know, why should I trust -you--you, who came as murderers come, with that creature Vydys to whom -only pain is passion?" - -Craig turned on her. "What--?" - -"You held her, did you not? Else how could I surprise you--?" - -"Are you jealous, then--because it was she I held, and not you?" - -Narla's face turned white with fury. "Not even a sadat would say such -a thing!" She jerked free of Craig's hand, beat her small fists on his -chest. "Go, you rabble! Leave me! Go back to the scum, the Baemae!" - -Craig reached for her hands. - -She jumped back and slapped his face. - -The sting of her palm was like a trigger. With a curse, he lunged for -her and caught her to him, still struggling and flailing. - -"Is this what you want?" Savagely, brutally, he kissed her. - -Her lips were like ice. Her eyes blazed grey fire. "Is that quite all, -Earthman?" - -Craig sucked in air. "No. Not quite." Pinioning her arms, once again -he glanced down at the cordon of guards in the street below. "You -see ... you're going with me." - -"No!" - -"Yes." He flashed a tight, hard grin. "Without a knowledge of how to -use Tumek's crystal, the Baemae will need a weapon against your father. -And what better could they find than you, his daughter, as a hostage?" - -Shoving her aside, he lifted the great disc from the rooftop; spun it. - -It jerked ... caught ... hovered. - -"Please, Craig Nesom...." - -"Please indeed, my lady Narla! We're sailing south this morning--away -from Torneulan, beyond the reach of your father and his cursed Kukzubas -barons." - -"You mean--?" - -"Yes!" Bodily, he lifted her and set her on the hovering disc. "We are -traveling south to the djevoda range, and freedom!" - - - - - CHAPTER V - - -Below them now stretched rolling grasslands, mile after green-gold -mile. Afar, the darker green of shrubs and trees marked water-holes -or fringed the meandering streams that glinted in the clear white -light of Yoh, Lysor's midday sun. A fragrance--of flowers, of -foliage--drifted upward even to the disc, high above it all, still -gliding southward. - -A paradise, it was. But a paradise apparently without human population. -Craig still could find no sign of habitation--only the tiny, moving -dots that were herds of some unknown animal grazing. - -Then, off to the west, a thin wisp of smoke curled skyward. - -Craig shifted his weight so that the disc wheeled towards the distant -streamer. "Narla...." - -The girl's blonde head moved just a fraction--barely enough to tell him -that she, too, saw the far-off feather. That was all. She didn't speak. - -A little of Craig's elation left him. Again, as a thousand times -before, he wondered about the slim girl crouching on the disc between -his feet. - -She was Zenaor's daughter. - -Yet ... she had also helped to bring him, Craig Nesom, into contact -with the Baemae. - -Whose side was she really on? - -Or did she even know herself? - -Craig wondered. - -But whatever the answer, she was here with him, in his power--his -weapon to break her father's grip on Lysor. - -He should have been glad for it. It was what he'd sought, the thing he -needed to help avenge his friends who'd died aboard the starship. Only -somehow, now, it brought no sense of surging triumph. If anything, the -thing he felt was guilt, an ugly gnawing of his own conscience because -he'd forced her to come with him. - -Ahead, a huddle of buildings came into view below the smoke-wisp. - -Craig changed course a fraction. - -The buildings showed clearer now--shanties straggling out behind a -palisade, across a broad, hill-sheltered plain that sloped down gently -to a river. For the first time, Craig could see people moving about. - -He tilted the disc, coasting down towards the village in a long, -looping arc. - -But now those below glimpsed the saucer. A flurry of excitement -flared. Fingers pointed. Men ran towards the largest of the buildings. - -But not for shelter. For suddenly they were back again, out in the -open, carrying discs. In seconds a whole company had taken to the air. - -Craig banked sharply as they raced towards him. - -But a fierce cry rang out from above him. He jerked around just in time -to see a host of other discs slashing down out of the blue. - -Then one peeled off, lanced closer. Craig glimpsed a lean, half-naked -body ... bared teeth ... a fierce bronzed face. - -The rider's arm snaked out. A long black whip flicked towards Craig. -Before he could move, the lash twined about his upflung wrist. - -The rider above twisted sharply. His disc sideslipped away from Craig. - -The next instant the Earthman was flying through the air, jerked clear -of his carrier by the whiplash. - -Dimly, he heard Narla scream. - -Then he was swinging free, like a plumb-bob on a string. Cold sweat -drenched him. He clutched at the whiplash, clinging to it with both -hands. - -Now the disc from which he hung climbed in slow spirals, circling away -from the village. Behind and below him Craig glimpsed Narla, similarly -suspended, swinging pendulum-like below a second saucer. - -The other discs drew in, grouping about the captives in loose -formation. Still climbing, the whole flight topped the crest of the -hills behind the village. - -Here browsed a great herd of the animals Craig had seen grazing. -Sweeping low over them, the discs wheeled towards a log stockade atop a -knoll, hovered above it for a moment, and then settled slowly. - - * * * * * - -At last Craig's feet touched ground inside the stockade. Shaking, he -sank to the grass, fumbling to free his wrist from the whiplash. - -It came free. Scrambling up, he stumbled to where Narla lay in a -crumpled, sobbing heap, and tugged loose the lash that held her. - -She clung to him, sobbing, her whole body shaking. - -Overhead, the discs still hovered almost motionless, making no move to -land. - -Anger flared in Craig. Instead of releasing the whip, he surged up -suddenly, jerking on it with all his might. - -The disc from which Narla had been suspended tilted sharply. The -whipman pitched off, arms flailing, and sprawled spread-eagled in the -grass. - -Craig dived onto him before he could even catch his breath--pinning -him, gouging at his throat. - -But already the other discs were plummeting. Sinewy, work-worn hands -dragged Craig back. - -Then a bronzed young giant who wore a high ceremonial helmet that must -once have belonged to some baron's guard came striding forward. "Hold, -friend!" He was laughing. - -Craig stared. "Bukal!" - -"No other." The strapping Baemae gripped Craig's hand. - -"But--the guards--I thought you dead." - -"And so did I, for a while, there." Bukal chuckled. "But perhaps the -gods have marked me to die in the pit with Vydys' rollers. For at the -last moment somebody stumbled and I made it away through the alleys, -found a new disc, and fled south, here, to my home village." - -"So I see." Craig shook his head dazedly. - -"As for you, just now, you were not recognized in time." The Baemae -was suddenly apologetic. "You'll not begrudge it that we protect our -village? After all, the barons have tried a hundred tricks to trap -us--so now we bring all strangers here for scrutiny before we pass them -on to full fellowship among us." - -"Of course not." Craig matched the other's grin. "But is this"--he -gestured to the log walls--"much of a prison?" - -Bukal smiled grimly. Leading Craig to the nearest crevice, he pointed -out between the logs. "The djevoda stand guard for us." - -"The djevoda--?" Craig peered out. - -They were strange creatures. Taller than two men they -towered--heavy-bodied, six-legged, elephantine. Great tusks gleamed -below broad, pig-like snouts. - -"Watch!" Bukal commanded. - -He drew an ornate dagger from his belt-harness as he spoke. Catching -the sun in its jewels, he flashed a beam into the eyes of one of the -creatures. - -It was as if it were a signal. A roar like that of a maddened bull -burst from the djevoda's great throat. Tiger-fast, avalanchal, it -lunged up the slope of the knoll, straight for the stockade. The logs -rocked under the impact of its hurtling body. A great tusk tore through -a crack, bare inches from Craig's arm. - -The Earthman leaped back, cursing. - -His bronzed friend laughed again. "A wonderful creature, the djevoda. -Tons of solid meat, ready for the slicing. But definitely not to be -domesticated." - -"So I see," Craig agreed, a trifle sourly. - -"They charge movement on sight," his guide went on. "Killing them, -save from directly above, takes a deal of doing. So, they roam these -southern plains by hundreds. That's why this range was never settled, -till Tumek gave the flying disc to the Baemae. But overhead, we're safe -from them. We can herd them with our whips like cattle, or kill them -at will with a bolt at the base of the brain. They feed us, clothe us, -protect us, give us freedom...." He broke off. "But I talk too much of -our own affairs. Tell me, how did you escape--and what of Tumek?" - -Craig said, "Tumek ... is dead." - -The laughter left the bronzed man's face. "Tumek dead--!" He cursed -aloud. "How did it happen?" - -Briefly, Craig told him ... showed him the crystal ... mentioned the -ourobos. - -Only one thing did he leave out. - -Narla. - -He didn't know why. It made no sense, even to him. - -Yet somehow, he could not bring himself to reveal her lineage ... tell -how she came to be here, put her forward in the role of hostage. - - * * * * * - -Bukal was frowning when Craig finished. "There's too much here I -don't understand," he grunted. "Ourobos are not of Lysor, but of -our sister-planet, Xumar--a loathsome, crawling horror beyond man's -controlling. Innoculations with a rare oil will repel them, but no one -has ever found a way to kill them. If Zenaor were mad enough to bring -them here, to Lysor...." He shuddered and left his sentence hanging. - -"And the crystal--?" Craig displayed it. - -Again, the other shook his head. "For all I know, it might as well be -nothing but a lamp-lens." He straightened, thin-lipped. "But at least -we'll make our masters pay for Tumek! This very night!" - -Pivoting as he spoke, he strode back towards the waiting discmen. -"These two"--he gestured to Craig and Narla--"they are accepted. Take -them to the village." - -Only then did it dawn on Craig that the Baemae had asked not a question -about the girl. - -But there was little time for pondering on that. The men spun their -discs; helped Earthman and girl to board them. The ground, the -stockade, fell away. - -Then the hills, too, lay behind, and they were gliding down beyond the -palisade, into the village. - -A withered crone led Craig and Narla to a hut. "Rest here, warrior--you -and your woman. Tomorrow will be time enough to think of work and duty." - -She left them, then, closing the door behind her as she departed. - -Silence echoed through the room. Wordless, Craig turned to leave. - -But Narla's voice stopped him: "Wait, Craig Nesom...." - -He swung round. "What--?" - -She said, "You didn't tell them that I was Zenaor's daughter. You let -them believe I was your woman." A note of strain, of puzzlement, crept -into her tone. "Why, Earthman? Why?" - -Craig shrugged. "What point was there? Did it matter?" - -"Yes, Craig." The grey eyes were thoughtful now. "Yes, it matters very -much. You brought me here to use as a weapon against my father--yet now -you keep my secret. Why?" - -Craig shrugged again, not speaking. - -"Because Zenaor's daughter would have received a different welcome, -Craig; so very different. You know that, surely." - -He nodded slowly. "Yes, I knew it." - -"Then why--?" - -"Because there's been too much of blood and killing." He lashed out the -words in sudden fury, out of all proportion. "I wouldn't turn in a dog -to be tormented...." - -The girl came to him, through the shadows, till she was close ... so -very close. "Then ... it was not for anything that you felt towards me -that you saved me?" - -She swayed as she spoke--swayed forward, against him. He could feel the -slow beat of her heart, the measured pressure of her breathing. The -fragrance of her hair rose in his nostrils. - -"No," he said. "No. There was nothing." - -For a long, long moment she stood still, not moving. Then, very softly, -she said, "You lie, Craig Nesom!" - -Something inside Craig let go like a taut spring snapping. "Damn -you--!" he choked, and crushed her to him, hard against him. - -She came willingly, body warm and vibrant; eyes closed, lips parted. - -Red lips ... softer than any dream of Vydys. - -Craig drank deep of them. - -Then, at last, the kiss was ended. They stood there, breathing hard, -clinging to each other in the semi-darkness; and Narla said, "They -spoke truly, Craig Nesom. I am--will always be--your woman." - -He kissed her again, then, while a knot drew tight in his belly, and -his throat swelled, and his eyes stung. - -But all he could whisper was "Narla ... Narla...." - -Outside someone knocked on the door. - -Craig stiffened; straightened. "What is it?" - -"It's me Bukal. Roh's coming up. Would you raid with us?" - -Craig looked at Narla. - -Pain was in her eyes, but her voice stayed steady: "Your life's your -own, voyager. And ... I'll be waiting." - -Craig called, "I'm coming, Bukal!" - -They kissed again, and then he left her, striding out into the pale -green light of the ebbing day. - - * * * * * - -Over by the disc-shed, men were working--stacking the saucers one upon -the other till they formed neat cylinders, each half-a-dozen discs high. - -Laughing, bronzed Bukal gestured to them. "You see, Craig? These are -our weapons! Why should we kill, when we can hurt the cursed barons -worse by sending their serfs through the skies to freedom?" - -Craig nodded. - -Another man came up. "We're ready, Bukal." - -"Good!" The Baemae leader strode to the shed and caught up a disc. -"Here, Craig. Lend a hand!" - -Following his lead, Craig dragged a single saucer out into the open and -spun it till it hovered on the wave-force. - -"Now lash it fast atop a unit." - -Moving the saucer to the nearest pile, Craig tied it down. A tilt--a -shove--and all seven saucers took the air. - -A man scrambled aboard each cylinder as it rose. - -"North, now!" cried Bukal. "We'll see how the Lady Vydys likes running -her estates without the Baemae!" - -Vydys--! - -Dark loveliness, rising from a dead guard's corpse with her knife still -dripping blood. - -Craig shuddered. - -Only then they were rising, circling, and there was no time for -thoughts or shudders. High through the emerald sky they flashed while -the hills fell away and the village vanished. Koh's green ball sank -from sight beyond the horizon. Roh climbed afar, tinting Lysor's fields -all blue and purple. - -And still they raced north, the night wind whipping at hair and -garments. - -Then, far below, a black line scarred the grasslands. Craig caught a -faint shout: "The barrier!" - -Again, he was above the land of the Kukzubas barons. - -Ahead, the stocky Bukal waved a sweeping signal. Discs slipped -earthward. - -Another signal. They dropped lower ... lower ... came at last to ground -in the shadow of a grove of great sefopp trees. - -Out of the murk, the dim figure of a burly man hurried towards them. -"Thank the gods, you've come!" - -Craig could see Bukal stiffen. "Why? Is there trouble?" - -"Is there anything _but_ trouble?" the other shot back, hoarse-voiced. -"Someone betrayed your contact man to the Lady Vydys when she arrived -back from Torneulan this morning. He died by her own hand in the -torture chambers." - -Bukal cursed. "Did he talk?" - -"Would I be here if he had?" the burly man snarled back. He scrubbed -his palms on the front of his loose Baemae tabard. "The others are -waiting for me to bring the word of your coming." - -"Then get them!" - -The burly man vanished into the shadows. - -Bukal pivoted back to his helpers. "Hurry! Unlash the saucers!" - -In seconds, the cargo of discs was spread out. Already, more men from -the estate shuffled from the grove's blackness. - -Then the burly man, too, returned. "All here," he grunted. - -Bukal shot a quick glance around. "No women--?" - -"No." The man shifted. "We thought you'd want fighters." - -"Fighters--?" Bukal stiffened. "What do you mean? Why would we need -fighters?" - -The burly one fumbled. "Why ... to meet Zenaor's raiding party...." - -"_Raiders--!_" - -"Yes. Had you no warning?" The informer choked on his own spittle. -"Vydys herself brought the word. Last night an alien from another -system stole Zenaor's daughter and disced south with her. Now Zenaor -swears--" - -Bukal swung round, eyes blazing. "Earthman! Is this true?" - -Numbly, Craig nodded. - -"That girl! Zenaor's own daughter!" Bukal choked with fury. "You -brought her to our village! You gave no warning!" - -Craig held his voice chill: "So? Could you ask for a better hostage?" - -"No. Not if we had known. But now--" Bukal broke off and whirled round. -"You"--this to the burly man--"take your people and head south to -protect our village. The rest of us will run the barrier and try to -intercept the raiders. As for you, alien"--he turned back to Craig, -eyes hot and scornful--"you'll go south also. But as prisoner, not one -of us." - -Craig looked to the others; searched their faces. - -Their eyes held no mercy. - -"All right, you. Come on!" The burly man started towards Craig. - - * * * * * - -Craig whipped up his fire-gun and laid the barrel hard along the -other's temple. - -The man slumped to the ground. - -Craig said tightly, "To hell with the lot of you! I'm no man's -prisoner!" - -"Curse you, alien!" Bukal took a quick step forward. - -Craig leveled the fire-gun at the flat, bronzed belly. - -Bukal halted. - -Craig flicked the weapon's muzzle to the nearest of the Baemae. "You! -Spin me a disc!" - -Seconds stretched to eternity. Then the man's eyes fell. Wordless, he -shuffled through the echoing silence, tilted up a disc, and whipped it -round. - -The magnetic currents caught it; held it, hovering. - -Craig vaulted aboard it. "Death's waiting for the man that follows...." - -He threw his weight to one side, then back again. Rocking, the saucer -swirled upward. - -Again he tilted; sent it careening around the far end of the line of -trees. - -Behind him, Bukal shouted an order. There was a rush of feet, a flurry -of movement. - -Craig leaned far out, so that the disc almost doubled on its course, -sliding back on the other side of the masking sefopp trees. Then, -dropping it swiftly back to the ground, he leaped off and dragged it -into the shadows. - -Saucers sped past the end of the grove, riders and discs alike -silhouetted dimly against the blue-black sky. Craig crept deeper into -the undergrowth, flat on his belly. - -More aching tension. More seconds dragging by, turning into minutes. - -Then discs swept down again. Craig heard someone rasp, "He's gone, -Bukal. We couldn't spot him." And then Bukal, cursing: "We can't wait -any longer. Not with Zenaor prowling." - -Again, discs tilted skyward. All of them, this time. - -Silence once more, broken only by the whisper of breeze and trees, the -chirp of insects. - -Craig crept back to his own saucer and wheeled it out into the open. -Ten seconds later he, too, was climbing into Lysor's dark night sky. - -Climbing--to what end, with every man's hand against him? Bukal or -Zenaor, Baemae or barons, one and all sought his blood. - -All but Narla. - -Somehow, he had to reach her. - -Grim, tight-lipped, he set a course southeast, veering just far enough -north of the village so that he might pass Vydys' serfs undetected. -Their very numbers might slow them. There was at least a bare chance -that a lone man might reach Narla ahead of them. - -Only then, as he sped on, he caught a sound. - -He hesitated, straining his ears. - -The noise came again--a muffled, rhythmic clanking. - -Craig veered a fraction; raced towards the sound. - - * * * * * - -Below Craig, dots appeared against the blue-grey shimmer of the -grasslands ... dots that crawled grimly, steadily southward. - -He knew, then--knew what the dots meant, and the clanking. A chill ran -through him. - -These were heavy vehicles in motion! This was Zenaor's column, -grinding towards the village. They'd passed the barrier far ahead of -Bukal. - -And Vydys' serfs would never stand a chance against their power, their -numbers. - -That left it up to him. - -Only what could one man do? - -Cursing, Craig circled far ahead of the raiders--searching the rolling -hills below, praying for some miracle of terrain, some inspiration. - -But no miracle came. There were only the grasslands, the great -straggling herds of the djevoda. - -_The djevoda--!_ - -Craig came up short. Here was his miracle! Here his allies! - -Sideslipping his disc in a flashing arc, he surveyed the ground beyond -the column. - -The vehicles were following the low ground, moving towards a pass of -sorts in the hills that sprawled east and west across their path. - -Craig raced south again. A long way south, till at last he passed above -the distant range and swept down on its far side. - -How long did he have? An hour? Or only half that? - -A knot of djevoda moved restlessly as his disc's shadow fell across -them. - -Craig slashed back closer. - -Rumbling their irritation, the huge, ungainly beasts turned west, -drifting towards the pass. - -Craig searched out another, larger group and turned it, too. Then -another. Another. - -Across the hills, Zenaor's column was creeping closer. Sweat rilled -down Craig's back. He crowded his growing herd of djevoda harder. - -The beasts were angry now--bellowing their rage through the stillness -of the night; lunging at him, tusks high, when he swept too close. - -If he should slip or fall--! He shuddered. - -Then the first of the creatures began to funnel into the mouth of the -pass. Craig raced his saucer back, moving up others to press in behind -the leaders. - -Now, again, the clanking of Zenaor's carriers drifted to Craig. He -maneuvered his disc in a tight spiral--climbing, climbing. - -The grasslands fell away below him. The range spread out like a problem -in tactics set on a sand table: here were the djevoda, straggling into -the pass. Beyond the hills, Zenaor's column twisted towards them, -snake-like, as if hastening to join battle. - -Already, the lead vehicles were swinging south into the rift. - -Craig plummeted down ahead of the first djevoda. - -Roaring, they fell back. - -The Earthman raced away in a monstrous circle--driving in the beasts, -crowding them together in a milling herd that numbered hundreds. - -The column was in the pass now, hurrying forward faster, as if its -commanders realized the danger of such close quarters. - -Craig rounded up the last straggling djevoda ... hovered just above and -beyond them, waiting. - - * * * * * - -Down the pass, lights gleamed. Drifting dust set Craig to coughing. The -rumble and clanking echoed like distant thunder. - -Craig dropped to one knee on his disc; brought out his fire-gun. - -The approaching lights shone brighter. A beam sprayed across the first -of the djevoda. - -The creatures' great, tusked snout-heads lowered. Huge feet churned up -choking clouds of dust. - -Craig held his breath. - -The lead carrier rocked over a bump. Metal clanged on metal. The lights -flashed into the djevodas' eyes. - -It was a signal. With a deafening roar, a djevoda lunged forward. - -The carrier's brakes screamed. - -But already the mountainous beast was thundering down upon it. Like -an avalanche of flesh and bone, it crashed into the vehicle. Screams -clashed with the shriek of rending metal. - -Craig blazed with the fire-gun at the packed, elephantine mass of -animated death below him. - -Bellowing with rage and pain, the whole herd swept forward--on into the -pass, following the already-charging leaders. - -More carriers braked and crashed into each other. - -Then the herd was upon them, smashing at them. Green fire seared -through the night, mingling with the crashing thunder of some other, -heavier weapon. Craig glimpsed a djevoda torn asunder in mid-stride, -its six massive legs gone suddenly limp and sprawling. - -But no human power could stop that hurtling, murderous tidal wave of -flesh. Through the whole column the djevodas raged--crushing carriers, -overturning them, stomping them to masses of shapeless metal. - -At the far end of the pass, the last of the vehicles wheeled about in -blind, desperate haste. Engines roaring, they raced for the safety of -the open grasslands. - -Only then, flashing shapes lanced down out of the skies to the north. -Men dropped from discs onto carrier-tops, clamping their capes across -the vision-slits. - -Vehicles ground to a halt. Crews stumbled out, hands high in panic and -surrender. - -Craig surged to his feet; sent his own disc climbing. - -Too late. For now saucers hung above him, too, hemming him in ... -saucers ridden by Bukal's lean, bronzed raiders. - -And there was Bukal. - -"Craig, friend--!" he shouted. "Hold, Craig Nesom!" - -Craig stood rigid atop his disc. - -But then the other was beside him, waving and laughing. "Can you -forgive me, Craig? Without this blow you've struck, without the -firing-sounds to guide us, we'd never have caught up with this column." - -"And ... Narla--?" - -Bukal swept the whole sky with his gesture. "Go to her, Earthman! After -this night's work I'd even give you Zenaor!" - -He signaled as he spoke. The discs above Craig moved aside. - -His throat all at once too tight to speak, Craig waved back and -spiraled his own disc upward. - -But as he did so, another saucer swept down--a saucer ridden by a woman -he'd never seen before, a woman with an anguished, strain-taut face. -"Alien!" Her voice broke ragged. "Where is Bukal?" - -"Here, T'clar!" He glided up beside her. "What is it? Is there trouble?" - -"The village--" Again her voice broke, and for a moment Craig thought -she was going to faint. Then, rallying, she burst out, "Bukal, the men -from the estate of Lady Vydys--" - -"Yes, T'clar--?" - -"They were her guards, not of the Baemae." - -A numb horror gripped Craig. He hardly heard the rush of words between -them. - -But ... he had to know. - -He blurted: "The woman who was with me--Narla--" - -And then, the answer: "Alien, it was she they came for. Now they are -gone again--and she is with them!" - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - -Morning. Pale green morning, and the vast estate of dark Vydys the -Cruel. - -Bukal begged, "Give it up, Craig Nesom. There is no hope. Besides, this -is between the Kukzubas, the barons. Vydys seized your Narla only as a -weapon against Lord Zenaor. She will not harm her." - -Craig cursed him. - -The bronzed Baemae's lips drew thin. "What would you have us do, then, -alien? Throw our discs against her defenses? Gut ourselves on her -guards' weapons?" - -Bleakly, Craig stared up at the shining ramparts. Bitterness seethed in -him. - -And yet ... was it his right to be bitter? These were brave men, -dedicated to the Baemae's fight against the barons. But Narla was not -of them. The things she meant to him lay between two only. - -He said, "Forgive me, Bukal. You and your people--you have troubles -enough. I could not give you more." - -"Then what--?" - -"I'll go alone." - -The hot light left Bukal's eyes. He gripped the Earthman's arm. "No, -Craig--" - -"Yes, Bukal." Craig pulled free of the other's hand. - -"But--" - -Of a sudden Craig was weary of argument, of empty phrases. Tilting his -disc, he raced away from the Baemae leader, skimming out as the swallow -swoops, straight for the gates of Vydys' shaft-like Tower of Cadilek. - -But green fire blazed from the port-slots. Veering sharply, Craig sped -away again, climbing along the wall in the shelter of the angle bastion. - -Then he had topped the lowest level's battlements. Leveling off, he -glided across the roof to a point beyond the central obelisk where none -could see him. - -There, at last, he brought his disc to rest. - -But no attack from above would baffle Vydys. Not after that night of -blood of Torneulan. - -Ignoring the roof-ports, Craig crossed quickly to the parapet along the -rear wall. A coil of rope, stripped from his waist, gave him a line -down. In seconds he was upon the ground. - -Fire-gun in hand, then, he moved along the wall to a deep-set, -shrubbery-shrouded postern. - -The door opened at his first pressure. A dim-lit, stone-walled corridor -loomed, inviting. - -An invitation to death, perhaps.... - -Cat-footed, Craig slipped inside ... stood taut and breathless, waiting. - -But no sound came, no sign of guards or trouble. - -Craig's scalp prickled. This was too pat, too easy. - -But trap or not, here lay his only chance at Vydys, his only hope of -reaching Narla. - -Shadow-silent, he moved down the hallway to twin kresh-wood doors, one -set on each side of the passage. - -Craig pressed each in turn. But they were locked; they would not budge. - -Raw-nerved, he moved on again. - -Now came a short stair, leading down. At the bottom, a heavy door -barred the passage. - -Walking softly, the Earthman descended. Reached for the door. - - * * * * * - -It swung wide before he even touched it. Light blazed, so bright he -fell back a step, half-blinded. A voice said, "Welcome, Craig Nesom!" - -The voice of Vydys. - -Craig pivoted. - -But now, behind him, the kresh-wood doors had opened. Guards stood at -the ready, weapons poised. - -Craig faced the light again. - -It shone like a dazzling wall. Even shielding his eyes, Craig could see -nothing for its brilliance. - -Vydys' voice commanded, "Come forward, alien! I would not harm you." - -He sucked in a breath; stepped across the threshold. - -Hands shot out ... seized him ... held him helpless while they wrenched -away his fire-gun and his dagger. - -Then, incredibly, Vydys was saying, "Away, guards! Leave us." And he -was free again and stumbling forward, the door slamming shut behind him. - -Groping, he drew himself erect; turned, searching for the woman. - -But still there was only the blazing silver light, dazzling him to -blindness. Her laughter rippled out of nowhere, a sound to sting him to -impotent fury. - -He lashed out: "How long do I stand here, woman? Do you fear to face -me?" - -"Fear you--?" She laughed again, and now there was a new note in her -voice, an element he could not name or place. "No, warrior, I do not -fear you." - -Even as she spoke, the dazzling light was fading. Like a wall -dissolving, the veil of its brilliance fell away. - -Vydys stood before Craig, high on a dais. - -Blinking, he stared up at her. - -The ripe lips curved into a smile. Sinuous cat-graceful, she moved -towards him, sleek silvery body-sheath shimmering as she descended. -"You see, Earthman? I told you I did not fear you." - -He stared down into the midnight eyes, black and unfathomable as the -void itself. "Then what--?" - -The scarlet lips parted. She swayed against him. "Kiss me, alien!" - -Involuntarily, Craig stiffened. "What--!" - -The woman laughed softly. "Is it so strange a concept, alien? Am I so -old, so drab, so ugly?" - -Craig could find no words. - -"We are as one in so many ways, Craig Nesom," dark Vydys went on. "Fear -is not in us, nor yet mercy. We know what it means to strike with -daring. Both of us hold ruthless to our hatred for Lord Zenaor." - -Still Craig did not move. "And because we both hate Zenaor, I should -kiss you?" - -"If we stand together, we can defeat him." The dark eyes half mocked, -half measured. "Some say that pain is my only passion. That is not -true. I love also as a woman. There are men, Kukzubas barons, who would -sell their souls for my embrace." - -"Then why not give it?" - -"Why--?" The throaty laughter rippled. "Because they desire me does not -mean I want them, Earthling. I seek a man of blood and iron as well as -passion--a champion to aid me against Zenaor." - -In spite of himself, Craig smiled thinly. "Some might call that a -tribute. To me, it seems left-handed." - -Vydys frowned, ever so slightly. "I do not understand you, alien. Would -it be such punishment to sit beside me, ruling Lysor?" And then, eager -again: "For we can do it, with your valor and the weapon they say you -received from the one called Tumek." - -"The weapon--!" - -"Yes. A crystal, to win power even over the Xumarian ourobos my spies -say Zenaor plans to use against the Baemae. You have it, do you not?" - - * * * * * - -She drew closer as she spoke. Her hands slid over him, touched the -jewel-case where it lay flat against his body. Before he could stop -her, she had it out and open. - -"So--! This is the thing! A pretty bauble...." - -Craig didn't answer. - -"How do you use it, alien?" - -"I don't know." - -"You don't know!" The smooth face stiffened. "Or ... is it that you -won't tell me?" - -Craig shrugged. "Have it as you want it." - -For an instant the woman's nostrils flared. Then, once again, she was -close to him--her breasts, her body, smooth and firm against him. -"Please, Earthman! Do not make me believe that you are one of those who -can love no woman!" - -Craig held his silence. - -A flush came to Vydys' dark, lovely face. She stepped back, eyes bright -with anger. "Is it another, then--that blonde hag, Narla?" - -Craig's fists clenched. His shoulders stiffened. - -"It is, then! You'd scorn me for her!" Vydys' scarlet lips peeled back. -"Very well! You shall have her--as soon as you give me the secret of -the crystal!" - -Sweat came to Craig Nesom's forehead. "I can't tell you what I don't -know." - -"You leave me little choice, then." Vydys was almost purring. "I must -have protection against Zenaor and his ourobos. Unless you share the -crystal's secret with me, I shall be forced to sell the wench back to -her father for tanagree oil to drive off the slime-monsters." - -Dry-lipped, Craig said, "So be it." - -"But I had such pleasant fantasies of how I would amuse myself with her -in my torture chambers!" Vydys' eyes grew wide and doleful. "There are -so many things that one can try! And a young, nubile girl may live for -hours...." - -Craig bit down hard to keep from shuddering. - -"But since you will not help me--" Vydys sighed, turned, walked up the -dais. "At least, your death shall entertain my favorites." - -Craig would have lunged for her, then. - -But she struck a great gong sharply. Instantly, the dazzling light-wall -blazed forth to shield her. Guards leaped from nowhere to seize the -Earthman. Their blows made his head ring. - -"To the pit with him!" Vydys cried shrilly. "To the pit!" - -Craig's world resolved into a nightmare of dank corridors and blows and -blackness. - -Then, suddenly, he was in the open once again, tottering on the rim of -a deep, walled trench that ran about a side-shaft of the Vydys' tower -like a sort of moat. - -"Look down, alien!" - -Blear-eyed, Craig stared down into the pit. - -Great tusks speared up at him. The bellow of an enraged djevoda rang in -his ears. - -Vydys said, "You and your Baemae friends are said to be clever with -these creatures, alien. Especially with a whip." She turned to one of -her retinue. "Give him the lash!" - -The man brought out a long Baemae whip and handed it to Craig. - -"Down with him!" - -In seconds, Craig swung into the moat at the end of a rope-loop. - -He was still staggering when the djevoda charged, thundering its rage. - -Craig lashed out with the whip. - -But without avail. The stinging lash brought a new roar of fury from -the great creature. Savagely, it lunged again. - - * * * * * - -Barely in time, Craig leaped out of the way. Desperately, he ran -through the trench in search of some exit, some chance for escape. - -There was none. - -Again the djevoda charged. - -Once more Craig side-stepped in the nick of time. - -Above him, on the pit's rim, Vydys laughed her silvery, sadistic laugh. - -Hate surged through the Earthman ... hate mingled with fear. - -Was he to die here--tusked high into the air; trampled under the great -hammer-feet? - -If at least the hell-bitch above only could die with him--! - -He fell back to the moat's far edge ... but not at the djevoda. No. -Higher, this time. Higher--and straight at Vydys! - -The long lash slashed through the air. Almost lazily, it seemed, it -drifted. The snapper lifted ... curled ... wrapped round Vydys' slim -waist. - -She screamed, then. - -Too late. Because now Craig was surging back on the whipstock with all -his strength, a savage jerk. - -The woman lurched forward, across the parapet. Down the steep face she -slid, straight into the trench. - -Along the rim, tumult erupted. Guards shouted. Serfs raced this way and -that. Fire-guns blazed down at the djevoda. A ladder appeared, shoved -down from above. - -Dropping the whipstock, Craig lunged for the ladder. - -A guard was scrambling down it. Catching him from behind, Craig knocked -him sprawling. When another head appeared above the parapet, Craig -butted low, not slowing. - -Blood--blows--violence. A race for the postern. As from afar, Craig -caught the echo of Vydys' scream: "The alien! Stop him!" - -So she still lived.... - -More guards. Veering, Craig darted through the nearest door and pounded -through a maze of echoing corridors and stairways. - -If only he could reach the roof, his saucer.... - -Locked doors. Dead-end hallways. Men racing towards him. - -Craig sprinted towards a window. - -Below lay the outer grounds. - -Craig leaped. - -As he did so, a familiar shadow swooped low--the shadow of a disc. - -Bukal. He brought the disc down in a fast sideslip. "Quick--!" - -Craig dived onto the saucer. - -Then they were climbing--up, away from Vydys' Tower of Cadilek, away -from guards and clenched fists and shouted imprecations. - -Still panting, Craig said, "That was close, Bukal. Thanks." - -Bukal didn't answer. - -Craig craned round, peered up at him. "Bukal! What's the matter?" - -The bronzed face stayed bleak and bitter. "It is the end, Earthman," he -answered heavily. "The end of my people and their dream of freedom." - -"The end--?" Staring, Craig fought down a numbness. "You don't mean--?" - -"Yes." Bukal's slash-mouth twisted. "Zenaor has carried out his threat. -In a hundred spots south of the barrier, the ourobos are unleashed -against us!" - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - -Restlessly, the djevodas lumbered through the grasslands--a large herd, -numbering over half a hundred. - -A tension seemed to hang about the creatures. Great snout-heads lifted -as if sniffing the morning breeze, then lowered again, swinging to and -fro, watchful and surly. - -"You see?" Bukal clipped. "They sense that today they are the hunted, -not the hunters." - -Frowning, Craig nodded. - -"Come now. The nearest of the places we seek is farther south." - -Craig tilted his disc, following Bukal as the Baemae leader skimmed his -own saucer away, high above the ranges. - -Below them, another herd appeared. Another. - -Bukal shouted, "Observe, Craig Nesom! They move north--all of them!" - -The Earthman stared. Bukal's words were true. The scene below was like -some vast migration--a sudden shift that turned the behemoths ever -northward towards the barrier that separated this free land from the -tyranny of the Kukzubas barons. - -Too, these new herds were moving faster, hardly pausing to tusk up the -rich roots on which the monsters fed. - -They crossed a river. Bukal drifted his disc in close to Craig's. -"Watch, now. From here on we may find ourobos." - -Even as he spoke, a wild scream of rage, of terror, rose from a distant -group of the djevoda. - -"Quick--!" Bukal raced ahead. - -Craig followed, sweeping low behind him. - -Then they were above the monstrous sextupeds--hovering, peering. -Craig glimpsed grey movement amidst the green-gold grass-clumps ... a -shimmering as of slime that crawled and eddied. He started to glide -lower. - -"No--!" Bukal cried. "Stop, Craig! Don't chance it!" - -There could be no mistaking the urgency of his tone. Discing higher, -Craig studied the ground below in careful detail. - -Now it dawned on him that more than one grey splotch showed. Here lay -another; there, two more. Like water, they seemed to seep across the -land in slithering tendrils. - -The djevodas were bunching now, crowding together. Their great feet -hammered at the earth. They tusked up clods in sudden furies. - -Bukal hung close. "You see? They are surrounded." His voice was bitter. - -It was true. Everywhere, grey patches hemmed in the djevoda. -While Craig watched, they linked and joined, eddying together ... -grew larger, larger, till they lay on the range like a sodden, -ever-spreading blanket. - -The djevodas stomped and pawed. Rage echoed in their roaring -bellows ... rage, and something more, something close akin to panic. - -The grey took on new thickness. As if feeding on the very air itself, -it piled in glistening layers. - - * * * * * - -Then, rippling in Boh's green glow, a tendril crept from the mass, -slithering through the grass towards the djevodas. - -Slowly ... slowly.... - -It touched a great foot ... curled about the ankle. - -Still unaware, the djevoda started to turn. - -The slime swirled about the foot--clinging, holding. - -The djevoda's bellow went shrill with terror. Aware of the danger now, -it lunged savagely. - -The foot tore free. - -But now panic was upon the giant sextuped. Roaring, it charged across -the clear space, straight into the mass of circling grey. - -Its fellows followed. - -Like a hideous grey wave, the slime swept in upon them--miring them, -surging high onto their lumbering bodies. - -The djevodas screamed and slashed and struggled. - -But it was as if they were wallowing in quicksand. Each lunge, each -tusk-slash, only brought the grey tide rolling higher. Splattering, -each grey patch grew as it touched its quarry. In bare seconds the -wave-thing engulfed the struggling giants. - -The last scream died, swallowed up in the grey death of the ourobos. -Folds of slime rippled over final, paroxysmal spasms. - -Shuddering, Craig whipped his disc into a tight, climbing spiral. The -breeze was suddenly chill upon him, and he retched till his quivering -stomach emptied. - -Grim-faced, Bukal hovered beside him. "A pretty picture, is it not?" - -Craig couldn't answer. - -"So it goes everywhere across the grasslands. Like a tide, the ourobos -sweep over the south, pausing and gathering only long enough to kill, -then spreading out once more in ever-greater numbers...." His voice -trailed off. - -"But--is there nothing--?" - -"--Nothing that will stop them? No." Bukal's jaw jutted, hard and -angry. "No, Craig. Nothing. Our people learned that long ago, on -Xumar, the ourobos' home planet. Tanagree oil injections will render -man distasteful to them; otherwise even the barons' military stations -there would have had to be abandoned." - -"Then--the oil--" - -"They do not like it; that is all. It doesn't harm them." - -"Oh." - -"Already, our villages are emptying. By tomorrow the whole of the free -Baemae will be crowded close along the border. The day after--who -knows?" - -Craig frowned. "Tumek thought he had an answer." - -Bukal's face didn't change. "Tumek lies in his grave, and Vydys holds -his crystal." His bitterness ate like acid. - -Craig had no words. Silently, he stared away, off across the rolling -southern grasslands. - -Was there no solution anywhere to this monstrous scheme of Zenaor's? -Would other planets go down before it like the Baemae? And his own -life ... must he resign himself to defeat and death? Was that to be -his destiny, the end of his assignment here on Lysor? - -Bleakly, he wondered. - -Then, afar off, a moving speck appeared, racing through the sky. Craig -stiffened. "Bukal...." - -The Baemae shaded his eyes. "A disc," he clipped, tight-lipped. "More -trouble...." - -Together, Lysorian and Earthman lanced towards the approaching saucer. - -Then it was close at hand, and Craig could hardly believe his eyes. For -a woman rode it--a slim, young girl with golden hair that rippled and -shimmered in the sunlight. - -"Narla--!" he choked. "Narla!" - -She swept close, then, and they grounded their discs on a knoll and she -was in his arms again, laughing and crying at once. - - * * * * * - -Pushing her back at last, Craig held her at arm's length, feasting his -eyes upon her. For today she was a different Narla. Her heavy Kukzubas -cape was gone, replaced by the scanty scarlet halter and paneled belt -of the free Baemae. A fire-gun hung at her hip, a jeweled ceremonial -dagger across her thigh, and she carried one of the long black whips -with which Bukal's men herded the djevoda. - -Laughing, she pirouetted. "You see, Craig? This time I come as one of -you, not Zenaor's kidnapped daughter." - -Craig nodded. "Yes, I see. But--what of your father? How did you get -here?" - -A shadow crossed the lovely face. But the girl's grey eyes stayed -clear, her voice steady. "Once, Craig Nesom, I told you that I -was--would ever be--your woman. That is what brought me here; that -only. My father took me from Vydys, yes, trading tanagree oil for my -life. But he could not hold me. Not when you stood here, fighting with -the Baemae. I fled from the Central Tower to an old friend among the -Baemae. She gave me this garb and saucer, and told me where to find -you. So, now"--she shrugged smooth shoulders--"I am here, to stand -beside you." - -Wordless, unable to speak, Craig again embraced her. - -Only then Bukal was talking, breaking in upon them. "The ourobos come -closer," he clipped. "There's no time to waste. My people need me." - -Spinning their discs, the three took to the air and ranged north till -they reached the river and the village. - -The village. Tension crawled through it now, lined on every face, -reflected in every movement. Men, women, children--they crowded round -as the trio stepped from their discs. - -Bukal searched the frightened faces. "What is it?" - -"New nests of ourobos!" a man burst out; and another croaked, -"Already, the djevodas are in flight. By tonight--" - -He broke off. There was no need to say more. - -"Then ... we have no choice." Bukal shrugged, bronzed shoulders heavy. -"We must join the others along the barrier." - -"Must we?" This from a woman. "Must we, Bukal--when we hold Zenaor's -daughter as our prisoner?" - -Taut silence echoed, sudden as summer thunder. - -Frowning, Bukal looked down at the speaker. "What nonsense--?" he began. - -But a man shoved forward and cut in upon him: "No nonsense, Bukal!" he -flashed fiercely. "All morning, the amplifiers have been blaring across -the barrier. Zenaor says he'll leave us free, safe from the ourobos, in -trade for this wench and her alien lover!" - -More echoing silence. More vibrant tension. - -Then Bukal snapped, "Enough of this drivel! Zenaor's daughter or not, -this girl's cast her lot with us. As for Craig Nesom--" - -From one side, a rawboned, ape-like discman smashed a blow to the back -of Bukal's head. The leader spilled to the ground. - -Like wolves, the crowd surged forward. - -Craig drove a fist into the face of the man who'd struck Bukal; lashed -a kick to the groin of another, beside him. - -Then green fire blazed, a blast that seared between him and the Baemae. - -The crowd stopped short; fell back. - -Fire-gun in hand, bronzed body glistening, Bukal lurched to his feet. -Blood dripped from his earlobe. "You scum, would you buy your lives -with treason?" - -No one moved. No one spoke. - -"Craig...." - -The Earthman shifted to his friend's side in one quick movement. "Yes, -Bukal." - -The Baemae chief's eyes stayed on the crowd, his finger tight on the -fire-gun's trigger. Face a bleak, expressionless mask, he said, "I -see that I can no longer control my people. But at least you need not -suffer for it. Take Narla and go!" - -Wordless, Craig nodded. The girl beside him, he backed to the nearest -discs. - - * * * * * - -The Baemae fell back before him. He could feel their eyes on his back -as he spun the saucers. Their hate surged over him like the magnetic -waves on which the discs lifted. - -Into the air again, rising ... passing over palisades and circling -hills, racing away northwest towards the barons' barrier. - -Where could they go? What would they do? - -Bleakly, Craig mulled dark thoughts. He was glad that she kept her own -counsel, till he saw her brush at her eyes and knew she was crying. - -Yet what solace could anyone offer her in this nightmare? - -Now other villages passed below them. Grey folds ringed one, glistening -in Yoh's white light as they closed in upon it. - -Craig closed his ears to the screams of the doomed and sent his disc -hurtling faster. - -Then the black line of the barrier loomed ahead. The blare of -amplifiers rose faintly. - -Craig turned. "Hover here awhile, while I reconnoiter." - -Mutely, Narla nodded. He sped away. - -More villages, more djevoda, more grey patches. The amplifiers, -bellowing: "Bring in my daughter, Baemae! Bring in my daughter and the -alien!" - -No refuge. - -Craig circled back. - -Only now, two discs swayed where one had hung before. And one was -sweeping down on the other. - -On Narla. - -Craig whipped his own saucer higher, and then higher. - -A man in high-fronted metal helmet rode the second disc, the one that -was gliding down towards the girl. While Craig watched, he swung out -his long black djevoda whip ... tilted his disc till it plummeted like -a speeding arrow. - -Craig raced towards them. - -Now Narla, too, saw the stranger. She tried to tilt her saucer. - -But the man in the helmet pancaked his disc down, level ... swung the -whip. The lash curled round Narla's wrist. - -She jerked back in a panic. Tottered. - -Then her disc tilted and she was sliding--falling-- - -Craig careened his own carrier down. - -The stranger's head came round. He clawed for the fire-gun in his -belt-holster. - -Craig shifted sharply. His disc's edge dropped. Before Narla's attacker -could twist or duck, the edge hit him. - -He bounced backward, out into empty air, flailing wildly. The handle of -his whip sang by Craig's head. - -With a desperate lunge, the Earthman caught it ... clung to it while -Narla swung in a wide arc beneath him. - -The stranger's scream died in the thud of his body striking. - -Sweat-drenched, gasping, Craig maneuvered his own disc down till -Narla's feet were on the ground once more. Another moment, and he was -stumbling to her, hugging her shaking body to his. "My darling ... my -darling...." - -How long did they stand so? An hour? A minute? - -Only then, at last, they were no longer shaking. Once more, Craig could -taste her lips and smell her fragrance and feel the softness of her -hair as it rippled like ripe rangeland grasses. - -But with that consciousness came other things--a far-off scream ... a -panic-straut knot of djevoda, fleeing ... the faint, rank distant scent -of the ourobos. - -Away, beyond the barrier, the amplifier bellowed, "Give up my daughter, -Baemae! Give up my daughter and the alien!" - - * * * * * - -Narla's cheek was soft against Craig's ... softer than any satin. He -kissed her eyes ... tasted the salt of the tears that welled from them. - -His Narla, crying. - -Again the amplifier roared its message: "Give up my daughter, Baemae! -That is the price of life! Give up my daughter and the alien!" - -Bleakly, Craig turned and looked back across the grasslands. - -No longer were they a serfman's refuge. Not now. Not with the ourobos' -slime upon them. - -A flurry of movement caught his eye. Faintly, he heard djevoda bellow -panic. - -The panic that came with the ourobos. The same kind that turned free -Baemae into wolves, hunting down his Narla. - -"If you do not give them up, I'll know my daughter's dead and you will -die with her!" the amplifier shrieked. "Give her up, Baemae! Give her -up and live! Why should you care what happens to the alien, Nesom?" - -Why indeed? - -Tight-lipped, Craig pivoted. - -His thoughts must have shown on his face, or in his eyes. Narla clung -to him--grey eyes tear-filled, lips aquiver. "No, Craig! No!" - -He held her to him for a moment. - -Hoarse shouts. Djevoda screaming. Rippling eddies, grey and obscene, -amid the green-gold of the grasslands. - -"Give them up, Baemae! Give them up or die!" - -Craig said, "It doesn't matter, Narla. Not really. I've fought and I've -lost, and a man has to play the cards fate deals him. But there's no -reason for the others, the Baemae, to die with me. Not if there's even -the slimmest chance for them to live if I surrender. As for you, your -father wants you back, that's all. He'll never harm you." - -She was still sobbing as he lifted her onto the saucer.... - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - -The Central Tower of Torneulan, the Tower of Zenaor. Hard-faced guards. -Echoing passageways. The bleak metal and leather of Zenaor's private -chambers. - -And Zenaor. - -The Lord Zenaor, high chief of all Kukzubas barons. - -The lean face was set in cruel lines now, the jet eyes narrowed to -black diamonds beneath their heavy brows. - -"So, alien...." His voice rasped, thick with menace. "At last you come -to me, begging for mercy--" - -"Mercy? From you?" Craig Nesom shrugged in spite of the guards' -restraining hands, the shackles. "No, Zenaor. I beg nothing of you, -neither life nor lenience. The things I've done I'd do again. I've -given up only to stop this senseless slaughter." - -"An altruistic gesture, alien," Zenaor chuckled. "But a trifle late." - -He rose as he spoke and stepped to a paneled wall behind his seat. -A carved section slid back at his touch, revealing a bleak, compact -laboratory chamber. - -A transparent, closet-sized cubicle stood on a stand in the -compartment's center ... a cubicle whose every inch and crack and -crevice seethed and eddied with the swirling grey slime of ourobos. - -In spite of himself, Craig Nesom stiffened; caught the whisper of -Narla's quick-drawn breath. - -Zenaor pivoted, still chuckling. "You see, alien? Here we have ourobos!" - -Craig nodded slowly. - -"And what is the ourobos?" Zenaor was gloating now, caught up in the -excitement of his own revelation. "It is what your science would term -a thallophyte, Earthman--a semi-intelligent thallophyte, a sort of -deadly, highly-mobile fungus for which no specific weapon has been -discovered!" - -"A fungus--!" - -"Yes, alien! That's why no weapon prevails against it! Blast it, even -with fire, and still asexual spores fly out, each to form the nucleus -for another of its kind, a new ourobos!" - -Craig's lips were dry. His voice shook. "Then--this planet, Lysor--" - -"Lysor is doomed, you mean?" Triumph rang in the chief barons' voice. -"Indeed it is, alien! Now that I've brought the ourobos from Xumar, -nothing can stop them! Your sacrifice is wasted! There's barely enough -tanagree oil to treat a handful of our barons!" - -Craig choked. "No, Zenaor! Not even you could doom a whole race--" - -But Zenaor still was speaking: "This is my answer to the free Baemae, -Earthman! They wanted Lysor--they shall have it! As for the rest of -us--my friends among the Kukzubas, a few loyal serfmen--I have ships -already ramped to take us off to Odak, third planet of our system." - -Craig stood numb, unable to move or speak. - -So now, at last, he knew the truth--the secret behind Zenaor's dark -dream of conquest. - -Only now was too late. Now was a nonexistent second between the moment -of the chief of barons' flight and the time when he'd lay down his -challenge to a hundred, a thousand, other planets, backed by the -horrid, devastating threat of the ourobos. - -And Narla-- - - * * * * * - -Slowly, desolately, Craig turned to look at her ... to see again the -helpless anguish stamped on her lovely, horror-blanched face. - -"Now you look to my daughter for solace, Earthman?" Again, it was -Zenaor speaking. "You seek to drown the bitterness of death and failure -in the knowledge that she, at least, will live because you came in and -surrendered?" - -New tendrils fluttered in Craig Nesom's belly. He swung back; stared at -his lean, merciless captor. - -"Shall I tell you more, alien--another thing you did not know?" The -chief of barons bared his teeth in a grin that belonged on a bleaching -skull. He leaned forward, voice dropping lower: "Though I raised her as -such, Narla is not my daughter!" - -The very walls rang with shock. Even the cold-eyed guards went rigid. - -Zenaor said: "Her father was of the Baemae, alien--and I lusted after -the Baemae wife who bore his daughter, Narla. So I slew him, and took -wife and child alike into my harem." - -"Father--Zenaor...." Narla's poise was cracking. - -Ruthlessly, the other pressed on: "She is not of my blood, alien. No -ties coerce me to forgive her treason. So she dies here with you--with -you, and all my enemies, Baemae or baron!" - -A madness seized Craig Nesom. Savagely, he hurled himself at his -tormentor. - -But the guards were too quick, too strong. Brutally, they jerked him -back. - -He writhed helpless, raging. - -Only then a voice--a woman's voice, low and gentle as the hiss of the -asp is gentle: "Your enemies, Zenaor--like me, perhaps?" - -Craig went rigid. The guards, too; Zenaor; Narla. - -A hanging moved aside. Dark Vydys the Cruel stood framed in a -doorway--fire-gun in hand, liveried warriors behind her. - -"_Vydys--!_" Zenaor's color was draining. - -The woman laughed softly. "Surely, my lord, my coming does not surprise -you? By way of a test, I injected some of the fluid you gave me into a -serfman, then sent him out to meet the ourobos. But they swallowed him -up as they would any other, so I came here to discuss it." Airily, she -gestured. "Of course, there was some small difficulty with your men at -the gates. My troops had to slay them--" - -Zenaor sucked in air. - -Vydys said, "Your plans for the spaceships--they please me. The fleet -shall blast for Odak according to schedule." A pause. A cat's smile. -"Of course, you'll not be with it. It's better that you stay here with -the Baemae." - -"Vydys, in the name of our ancestors--our common blood as Kukzubas--" - -"I remember it, Zenaor. You shall not stand unprotected." Vydys -brought a flat object from beneath her waist-cape, tossed it onto a -table. "Here. I leave you this weapon." - -It was the jewel-box that held Tumek's crystal. - -Zenaor's fists clenched. "Curse you, Vydys--!" - -She turned away as if he had not spoken. Smiling at Craig, she purred, -"A last chance for you, Earthling. Would you join me?" - -Craig's eyes met Narla's. Then, quietly, he said, "You know my answer, -Vydys." - -Her face contorted. "Die, then, you fool!" - -She started to turn back to Zenaor. - -Only then, incredibly, a fire-gun was in his hand, too, whipping up -from beneath his scarlet cloak. - -They fired together. - -Vydys screamed in the same instant. For the fraction of a second green -flame seemed to envelope her. A great black char-scar spread across her -naked belly. - -She tottered. Her guards lunged forward. - -But already Zenaor was leaping into the laboratory chamber. Headlong, -he dived for the transparent cubicle in the center and wrenched its -hatch open. - - * * * * * - -Like a wave of slime, the ourobos belched forth, spilling across the -floor in a hideous, writhing blot. - -The foremost of Vydys' charging guards screamed and tried to stop. - -Too late. He pitched into the fungous tide; screamed just once more. - -A bubbling scream.... - -The room erupted into chaos. Alike, Vydys' men and Zenaor's fled in -shrieking panic. - -Craig thrust a foot across one's path; snatched a fire-gun as the man -fell sprawling. - -The room was empty, then ... empty save for dead Vydys and her guard, -and Zenaor, and Narla, and Craig Nesom. - -And the ourobos. - -Coolly, Zenaor stood his ground beside the cubicle. Ourobos swept in -close about his feet, then eddied back. They would not touch him. - -He laughed; gestured. "You see, alien? The tanagree oil is in my veins; -they will not touch me. But you...." He laughed again. - -Craig said, "Much good may it do you, Zenaor. A corpse is a corpse, -even if the worms won't eat it." - -He raised the fire-gun. - -Zenaor's laughter died. He half-turned. "Wait, Earthman--" - -He whipped up his own weapon. - -Craig fired. - -Zenaor died. - -Then Narla was in the Earthman's arms again, heedless of the ourobos' -creeping tendrils. "So we die, Craig Nesom. But at least we die -together." - -Craig held her close. "No, Narla." - -"No--?" He could feel her body stiffen. "But--what--?" - -"I said no, Narla. We don't die. Neither of us." - -She stared at him. - -He said, "Don't you see? The ourobos--they're thallophytes. That's the -answer." And then, when she still showed no comprehension: "Tumek knew. -That's why he said his crystal was the only weapon that would stop -them. And Bukal hit it right--by accident--when he looked at the thing -and said it might as well be a lamp-lens." - -"Craig, I don't understand--" - -"I'll show you." Pushing the girl back, Craig took the jewel-case from -the table where Vydys had tossed it and crossed to the nearest lamp ... -carefully replaced the focus prism with the crystal. - -The beam sprayed out, all green and purple. - -Tilting the lamp, Craig brought it to bear on the encroaching slime of -the ourobos. - -Before his and Narla's very eyes, the creatures shriveled. The grey -wave drew back. - -Craig clipped, "This crystal concentrates some ray that's deadly to -the ourobos, just as on my world quartz glass lets ultraviolet pass. -That was Tumek's secret. Somehow, he discovered Zenaor's plans and then -worked out this answer. - -"Now, Baemae craftsmen can duplicate the formula and produce crystals -by the thousands. It means the end of the ourobos." - -He moved the light. More grey slime dried to sticky viscous blackness. - -Then, arm in arm, together, he and Narla walked out into Yoh's bright -noonday light, shining down on the free-world-to-be of Lysor. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PLANET OF DREAD *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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