"My dear man! I am sure our Emperor's splendid Guard can deal capably with theseS'Relah! I will bid you good day now; I have yet to visit your charming shops." Ketrik turned haughtily, began his stroll back to the main avenues. He felt the Martian's puzzled gaze upon him, but did not look back.
He did not look back until ten minutes later, when he had the eerie sensation of being followed. He spotted the man at once, undoubtedly a Special—tall, cold-eyed, a bit too leisurely of manner. Ketrik smiled grimly, and entered a shop. The man followed. Ketrik came out, and the Special was just the correct distance behind.
At the next loading platform Ketrik purchased a ticket, waited until one of the mono-cars dropped down from the single overhead track. He entered the car, walked the length of it and exited on the opposite side. He hurried across an area-way and lost himself in the crowd waiting for the opposite-bound car which just then hove into view. The simple ruse worked. He boarded this car and there was no sign of his pursuer.
Dusk was fast coming upon the city when he again made his way to Thurlo's shop. His mind still wrestled with the problem of the electronic wall, and how to get beyond it. He immediately discarded the idea of an aero-copter in the dead of night; there would surely be detector rays. Here was a problem that called for planning, and patience.
And something else vaguely bothered him. A vision intruded upon his thoughts, annoying but persistent—the vision of a girl's face, lovely and golden....
V
He entered the shop, and was startled to see a Rajec emerge from behind a counter piled high with silks and fineries. The black was tall, elderly, a bit stooped, with a nervous twitch at the side of his face.
"Ah, sir, welcome to the humble shop of Thurlo. May I assist you in a selection? Some of these rare laces from Io, perhaps—or these exquisite candelabra? Over a thousand years old, sir, yet they have found their mysterious way here from the Deimian Temple of the Ancients."
Ketrik smiled a little, picked up the candelabra and set it down. "A fake. And so are you, Aarnto. I recognize you now."
"But not at first," Aarnto grinned. "I think my disguise will do. Not as thorough as yours, of course," he added.
"Where is Jal Thurlo?"
"Back there preparing the evening meal." Aarnto's finely chiselled nose wrinkled appreciatively. "And a welcome repast it will be, after our miserable desert fare!"
Thurlo had not spared his talents, and the meal proved to be excellent. Ketrik ate appreciatively but in silence. Thurlo hardly touched the food, seemed perturbed over something. Only Aarnto was his old self—more than that! His crisp manner, which Ketrik had noticed earlier in the day, was gone; he now seemed happy and almost jovial, as he kept up a running conversation. He told of haggling with one of the customers over a set of Venusian tapestries, finally getting twice the expected price.
"And look at this," he held to the light a crystalline jar that adorned the table. "Would you look at it, Khosan?Vanadol, the nectar of the Gods! An ancient vintage, too! I found it hidden away, far back on one of the dark shelves. I am sure," he smiled slyly, "that our host can obtain more where it came from, so let us drink to this occasion." He poured the blue liquor into their cups. "Yes, Khosan, an occasion—that two such as you and I should find our way here!"
Ketrik smiled, barely touched the stinging liquor to his lips.
When they had finished the repast, Aarnto rose and excused himself, but stood a moment hesitant. "I must leave you now, and I may have no occasion to return here. I wish to thank you, Thurlo, for you have been most gracious. And you—Khosan. We have been helpful to each other?"
"Yes, Aarnto. You more than I."
"Then the debt is paid." With that, the black was gone, out into the night which swallowed him up.
Thurlo sighed. "I hope he never returns. I do not like that one! If he is caught, and it becomes known I harbored one of theS'Relahhere, even for a day.... I only did it for you, Ketrik."
"You needn't worry. He's a clever one. But I wish I knew what they were up to!"
"They'll fry on Dar Vaajo's torture plates," Thurlo prophesied.
Ketrik thought of his own fate if he were caught, but quickly put it out of mind. "What doyouthink they're up to, Thurlo?"
The little Martian spoke slowly. "TheS'Relah? They are apart from other Rajecs. Treaties mean nothing to those fanatics. They wish to strike at Dar Vaajo, and"—he hesitated—"what better way to do it than through his daughter?"
The Princess Praana! Of course that was it! A bold stroke, but just such a one as the Society ofS'Relahwould attempt. Ketrik realized now that some such thought had been hammering at his mind all the afternoon. He said eagerly, "Tell me about her, Thurlo. I caught a glimpse of her this afternoon."
"You did? Yes, she visits the shops occasionally, always accompanied by a bodyguard. The Palace Guard has been doubled too, since these rumors of theS'Relah. I'll wager her father would be furious if he knew she had left the grounds this afternoon! But that girl has a mind and temper of her own—so I have heard."
"Has she been here long?"
"No, she flew down from the northern capital only a few weeks ago. That was against Vaajo's orders, too. I think he'll be sending her back soon."
Ketrik remained thoughtful. He failed to see how Aarnto and the others hoped to reach her! For a Martian to get beyond those walls would be a ticklish problem; for a Rajec, it would be impossible! He heard Thurlo again.
"That's why I'm worried, Ketrik. Attention is being drawn to my shop. This afternoon an elderly matron came in—I recognized her, she's been here before, one of the Princess Praana's personal servants—"
"Go on!" Ketrik was listening now.
"Well, Aarnto was in the front of the shop. He sold her some Ionian laces, then I saw him speak to her in an undertone and hand her a folded note. He doesn't know I saw him. I don't like it, Ketrik. I—"
"A note!" Ketrik's mind was racing with the speed of atomotors. "To be delivered to the Princess, no doubt! Thurlo, tell me—does Praana ever come here?"
"She would never deign to set foot in this humble part of the city. But she has undoubtedly heard of my shop...."
"That's it, Thurlo. I think I see their plan now. If you will promise to retire early tonight, I can guarantee that no word of this will reach the Emperor's ears."
Thurlo would have promised anything. An hour later all lights were out, and Ketrik stood in the darkened front of the shop where he could see the street but remain unseen. If his surmise was correct, he could thwart the plans of theS'Relah. Ordinarily he wouldn't have bothered, but now he thought he could turn it to his own advantage.
The hours passed. He watched the slow climb of Deimos across the sky. Its light scarcely touched this cringing little street. Once he saw the dull lights of a freighter descending, and remembered that just beyond this district was the freighter spaceport. Occasionally a skulking figure passed, keeping to the shadows. Once the flash of a heat-pistol came from a nearby alley, and a moment later the sound of running feet.
Still he waited. He lit a cigarette, keeping the glow of it carefully hidden. He began to wonder if the Princess would venture into this place after all. It seemed most unlikely, at this hour! It had been a crazy idea to begin with. He was clutching at straws. That note which Aarnto slipped to the servant might have meant something else entirely.
Ketrik dropped the cigarette, ground it savagely underfoot. Then, with a sharp intake of breath he leaned forward, peering through the window. From the nearby corner a dark vehicle had glided into the street! It moved swiftly and silently. It could only be one of the three-wheeled cars.
It stopped across the street from the shop of Thurlo. For a minute no one emerged, and Ketrik knew the occupants were surveying the shop. He drew back a little. Then two figures stepped out, started across the street. One was a woman. Her steps were unhesitant, even a bit excited. Ketrik recognized the Princess Praana even from here. The other was a man, who seemed to be remonstrating with her.
"The fool! The little fool," Ketrik muttered. "But at least, she had sense enough to bring one of the Guard!"
Events happened then with blurring swiftness. The shadows came from somewhere out of darkness, seemed to glide toward the pair in the street. In a split second they were upon Praana and the man. Too late the Guard sensed the danger; he whirled, but in the same instant was sinking to the street with a Rajec dagger through his heart. The other Rajec had clapped a hand roughly over the girl's mouth, was dragging her back to the car.
In those few seconds Ketrik was tugging at the shop door. It seemed to stick. He cursed, wrenched it open and flung himself into the street. His gun was out but he saw it was too late; Praana and the two assailants were already in the car, the motor was whining to life. Ketrik reached the car in two bounds, just as it hurtled away. He flung himself blindly at it. His hands managed to grip the rear wheel-guard. He clung to it, arms wrenching painfully as he was dragged along.
The car slowed, turning into the nearby street, and Ketrik managed to get his feet up. There he crouched precariously, leaning his weight forward as the car jolted through rough streets and alleyways. Again he cursed. He'd lost his gun back there! He didn't think they'd seen him, though; Praana had fought like a wildhella.
They apparently had her under control now, probably had administered a drug. Ketrik began to take notice of their direction. They were deep in the dark warehouse district. Suddenly his heart leaped. He knew where they were going! They intended to get Praana out of the city through that secret Canal-tunnel! He doubted if there were a dozen men in this city who knew of its existence, much less its location.
Then they reached it. Ketrik recognized the place, knew he'd have to act quickly. One of the Rajecs had gotten out, was leaning over, trying to lift the girl's limp figure down from the seat. Ketrik stole forward. He put all his weight behind the blow which landed at the side of the man's neck; it was a dirty blow but this was no time for niceties. The Rajec crumpled, slid forward against the car.
"What's the matter, Vronu?" The other was Aarnto; Ketrik recognized his voice. Aarnto came around the front of the car then, and took in the scene.
Ketrik was tense. But Aarnto didn't move or speak. Not for several seconds. Then he said, slowly, "So. It is you again, Earthman." He was calling the terms correctly now. "I thought I had seen the last of you."
Ketrik glanced at Praana's unconscious figure upon the seat. His eyes flicked back to Aarnto. "My debt is paid, Aarnto! You said it yourself." With that, his limbs uncoiled and he hurled himself forward.
Aarnto met his rush, sending out a straight jab as he allowed his body to sway aside. The blow was glancing but powerful enough to send Ketrik off balance. Ketrik's lips went tight as he whirled back to the attack. He knew he had his work cut out for him here.
Aarnto seemed slim, but there was weight there and he knew how to use it. He put it behind every blow. For a few seconds Ketrik found himself parrying these blows, ducking and rolling and taking a few on the arms which numbed him. He managed to get a few past Aarnto's guard, but the Rajec took them too, and pressed his advantage. Ketrik was satisfied to back away for the moment. His legs were still a little numb from crouching on the car.
A crashing right came through Ketrik's guard, drawing blood from his mouth. He countered and missed, as the other leaped away. Again and yet again this happened, with Ketrik missing almost clumsily; they fought in near darkness and it was hard to connect with that swift moving black body!
"So you would interfere, O crudely disguised one!" Again Aarnto's fist came through, to send Ketrik reeling back. But his legs were less numb now, and he began to co-ordinate his footwork. His brain was lightning clear. Aarnto laughed contemptuously, laughed with the joy of battle and pressed forward, throwing more lefts and rights. They missed as Ketrik danced away lightly as ahellacat—then Ketrik threw a boxer's left, long and weaving, that found its mark.
"That better, O haunter of dark places?" He followed it with a right that crashed against bone, and Aarnto didn't laugh again.
Slowly Ketrik took the initiative, refusing to give way now and throwing his long left to advantage. He used the other's feral eyes as a focal point, aiming just below them. He sensed that the other was weakening. Aarnto gave ground slowly, fighting back. His blows were still heavy but now his timing was off and Ketrik didn't give him a chance to regain it. Ketrik's own arms were becoming numb, from stopping the other's blows. He shifted the attack to the stomach and Aarnto's guard dropped. A right came up that sent the Rajec staggering. Ketrik leaped in for the kill, lashed with a left that sent the black spinning half around.
The right-cross that followed immediately, was the one that did it. It caught Aarnto at the point of the jaw just below his ear. By the way he crumpled, Ketrik knew he wouldn't get up for some time.
Ketrik stood there for a moment looking down. A roaring was in his ears, a vast tiredness came upon him. He wiped blood from his face and looked at his bruised fists.
A sound came from behind him. He whirled.
It was Praana. She stood there, looking small but somehow not frightened, staring at Aarnto's prone figure. She reached into her tunic and drew out a small electro. Before Ketrik could realize her intention, she aimed it at Aarnto.
He snatched the gun away just in time. "You'd kill him in cold blood?"
"He's a Rajec. And a member of theS'Relah!"
"Oh, you realize that how, do you? Well, listen to me. He fought fairly—had a dagger there in his belt, and could have used it. So he gets a break."
She turned an angry face to him, started to speak, but he stopped her with a gesture. "Quiet! Listen!"
From somewhere near came the sound of scuffing feet. Ketrik moved swiftly to a little metal door between two buildings. This was the door to the sewer, which in turn led into the secret tunnel. Presently it opened, and Ketrik saw the yellowish glow of eyes. Rajec eyes, many of them—perhaps eight or ten. Ketrik stepped back. He gave a burst with the electro, allowed the beam to cut a frothing path very near the doorway. The black figures drew back.
"You get these two, and that's all!" He indicated Aarnto and Vronu. "Two of you step forward and get them. Quickly, now!" He gestured meaningfully with the weapon.
Two of the Rajecs crept out, watching him all the while. They seized the limp figures and dragged them back. Ketrik followed. "All the way! Clear back into the tunnel. I'm letting you off easy. Be glad you don't get Vaajo's torture plates for this night's work!"
He herded them all into the tunnel, then swung the pivoted door shut. A steady play of the electro-beam fused the mechanism so that it wouldn't work again, ever. He knew they might use their knives, loosen the stone blocks enough to gain another entrance, but he didn't care about that now.
He hurried back to the street, found Praana still waiting. Her fists were clinched and her voice sharp. "You take a lot upon yourself! Those were theS'Relahand should be turned over to the Guard!"
Not a word of thanks, no show of gratitude. Ketrik let his own voice rasp. "It isn't important. You were a little fool to leave the Palace! Why did you do it?"
"Then you know I am the Princess Praana! And you—you dare to speak to me like that!" She raised her fists, seemed about to strike him—then a thought occurred. "Rilon—he—where is he? What happened?" Then she shuddered, as though suddenly remembering.
"I suppose you mean your Guard," Ketrik said with no attempt to spare her feelings. "He's lying back in the Street of the Double Moon with a dagger through his heart, thanks to you."
"Thanks to me," she whispered, all the spirit gone out of her now. "I shall never forgive myself! He warned me, tried to stop me, even pleaded—and when I threatened to come alone...."
Ketrik said sternly, "Why should you want to come at all—to this miserable part of the city?"
"You are right, I was a fool. Occasionally I send a servant to the shop of one Jal Thurlo, to pick up a rare article that would never find its way to Mars by the ordinary routes—you understand? This afternoon my servant brought me exciting news. In his shop Jal Thurlo had a single bottle of the perfume from the Deimian Temple of the Ancients! Can you understand what that means? That rare, that glorious perfume...."
Yes, Ketrik could understand. He smiled at Aarnto's cunning. Women would give their money, their jewels, everything they held precious, for a single dram of that perfume which was so rare as to be almost non-existent.
"But," Praana went on, "it was to be smuggled away from Mars tonight! It was to go to the Princess Aladdian on Venus! The note said that if I were to see Jal Thurlo tonight, I might persuade him—"
Ketrik felt suddenly sorry for her. She was almost in tears. "It was a trick of theS'Relah," he said, "and Jal Thurlo knew nothing of it. As for the Deimian perfume—my dear girl! I happen to know that the last of it was smuggled to Earth some years ago, and sold for a fabulous price." Ketrik neglected to mention that he himself had engineered the feat.
She smiled wistfully. "You have saved my life, and I have learned a great lesson. I owe you for both." She suddenly removed a bracelet of Martian diamonds. Ketrik waved it away, and she frowned in puzzlement. "Is it not enough?"
It was not nearly enough. What he wanted was to get beyond the electronic wall. He came near to hinting at it, but checked himself. No need to press his luck too far.
He bowed elegantly. "To have been of service to you, Princess, is reward enough in itself."
She was impressed, insisted on knowing his name and where he could be reached. He gave her the information with seeming reluctance. She assured him she could make her way back to the palace alone. "You shall be rewarded, nevertheless," were the last words Ketrik heard as she drove the car away. And he smiled inwardly.
He was jubilant, retracing his route through the dark streets. Dar Vaajo would certainly send for him tomorrow! For he knew that Praana would tell her father of this.
It was just past the midnight hour, and suddenly he remembered something. This was the hour ... but even as the thought crossed his mind, the phenomenon came. It came as a greenish glow rising above the city center, spreading swiftly outward. As it spread, like a blanket of palely pulsing light, a frighteningmalignancycame with it.
Then it touched upon Ketrik, and he reeled. The cold light was all about him, surging through him. Tightening tendrils of it clutched at his brain. A vast singing was in his ears. He fought back, fought as his mind reeled upon a chaos of vertiginous horror! Those light-tendrils tearing at his brain, eagerly, hungrily—here was Dar Vaajo's weapon and he knew it, even as he fell to the street to lie exhausted, his mind going away....
Still he tried to fight, knowing it was hopeless. An agony was in him, tearing at his fingertips and through every muscle; wrenching at his brain, seeking to tear it apart fiber by fiber. He felt his sanity going; it was beingdrainedaway as liquid is sucked through a straw. He laughed once, wildly. He felt other light-tendrils seeking, seeking hungrily all about him. With a last vestige of mental power he remembered again a gibbering madman in a dark tunnel....
Then the light was going away. It receded, rushing back upon itself, coalescing into a mass of greenish radiance that swirled and twisted angrily and tried to escape. Almostalive! As Jal Thurlo had said! Ketrik rose and stood swaying, his head throbbing, as he watched it from afar.
Now the spherical mass of it, deeper in hue and pulsing angrily, hovered in the sky just above Vaajo's laboratories. Suddenly the sphere extended, became a pillar of pulsing light trying to leap away.
And it leaped away. Faster than light, swift as thought, hurtling through the outer reaches of space.
Ketrik didn't stay to see more. He didn't need to. Even through the cold needle-fires in his brain, he had enough faculty left to know that far out in space, in that part of the heavens, swam the planet Earth. Again this night Dar Vaajo was testing ... testing the power of his curiously-alive weapon....
Ketrik reached the shop of Jal Thurlo, found the jar ofvanadoland downed enough of it to put him into merciful oblivion.
VI
It was late the following day when a car, bearing the royal insignia, drew up before the shop and one of the Guards asked for "Khosan."
Ketrik was ready. He'd been waiting for this. As they drove toward the palace grounds the two Guards looked at him enviously.
"You have won great favor with the Emperor for last night's work," one of them said. "He wants personal audience with you! It would not surprise me if he made you Captain of Praana's own guard!"
"It is true you were not supposed to be on the streets at that hour," said the other. "But Dar Vaajo will overlook that, considering the circumstances."
Ketrik remembered that Praana was not supposed to be on the streets either, but he didn't voice the thought. They reached the electronic wall. One of the men gave the signal, and a section of it moved upward. Their car passed through.
At last he was inside the forbidden grounds! Ketrik remained outwardly humble, but he kept his eyes open. They went along a sweeping drive bordered by statelymajaguatrees. They passed a few buildings, fronted by splendid lawns. Then the palace itself loomed ahead, a magnificent two-storied structure of darkculchitemarble.
But Ketrik had no eyes for it. To the left was a building equally imposing, and covering more area, which could only be the royal laboratories! It was undoubtedly from that building that the phenomenon had come the night before. He noticed the roof in particular, glass-covered, curving into a shallow dome. If Dar Vaajo favored him, he could get a position in there....
Then they were past the building and approaching the palace. The audio-tube near the driver's head crackled to life, and a voice came through. Ketrik couldn't hear the words. A startled look appeared on the Guard's face. "Are you sure?" he said. "My orders were—"
"These are new orders! Obey them!" Ketrik heard those words all right. The audio went dead. The driver wheeled the car around abruptly, headed away from the palace.
"Something wrong?" Ketrik asked.
"Plans have been changed. Dar Vaajo doesn't want to see you quite yet." The man's voice was grim.
Ketrik felt a sudden foreboding. "Where are you taking me, then?"
No answer. Ketrik glanced at the Guard sitting next to him. This man had gone grim too, as his hand rested lightly on the electro beneath his tunic. Ketrik couldn't guess what had gone wrong or why, but he knew he wasn't going to see Dar Vaajo under favorable circumstances. He went tight inside.
They stopped before a low stone building. The driver came around, opened the car door. "Out!" he ordered curtly.
Ketrik came out. He launched himself bodily, his fist smashing to the other's face and making a bloody smear of it. The man staggered back. The momentum carried Ketrik out of the car and to his knees. He heard the rush of the other Guard, whirled to meet it. Too late. He only saw the dark blur of the man's arm coming down in a swift arc, then heavy metal crashed behind his ear, leaving him stunned.
His muscles wouldn't pull him up. The blows came again ... more than once, heavy and accurate. He ploughed forward onto cold pavement as his mind blanked out.
He came again to consciousness, groaned as heavy pain hammered through his skull. Gradually his eyes focused upon the details of the room. There weren't many details. It was a small room, quite bare. The floor was stone but the walls seemed to be of thickcrystyte. Dim lights filtered through. There was no entrance of any kind that he could see.
"So you are awake at last, Earthman. And none the worse for wear." The voice came from within the room. Ketrik raised his head, stared at the opposite wall, a section of which had taken on the silvery radiance of a tele-vise.
Imaged there were the features of Dar Vaajo. Ketrik recognized him immediately.
It was an elderly face, but smooth—with the color and toughness and texture of old leather. The lips were tight and purposeful, the cheek-bones bulged beneath crisp, graying hair. And the eyes ... they held Ketrik. They weren't old eyes. They were hard and bright as jewels. An indomitable light came up from the dark depths of them.
Dar Vaajo spoke again from the screen.
"As you see, I prefer to hold audience with you in this manner. You are a dangerous man. Yes, very dangerous, to have come so far. Through my Space Patrol. Past my Specials. Into the city and past the inner wall itself." The lips quirked a little. "Yes, I have determined everything about you. Your name is not Khosan, but George Ketrik—I have heard something of your exploits in the past. You are the spy sent here by the Earth Councillor, Mark Travers." Again he paused. "You are not surprised that I know all this?"
If he was surprised, Ketrik didn't show it in the slight shrug he gave. He knew the voice would go on.
"I have learned this," Vaajo said, "within the past few hours. You see—we, too, have a development of the Scanner Beam. This beam was trained upon you from the very moment you drove into the palace grounds. We learned your true identity and purpose."
Ketrik went dry inside. It would have to be that, the one thing he couldn't have foreseen! He spoke to the screen. "Very well, so I have lost. I suppose I can expect no reward for saving the Princess."
Something showed in the dark depths of Vaajo's eyes. Amusement? But he spoke thoughtfully. "Very well, you shall have your reward. I think I will send you back to Mark Travers—in a most unique way!"
Quite suddenly then, Ketrik knew. He knew the reason for the beam he had seen launched into space, and almost he grasped the principle of it. He felt his insides twisting up into cold, hard knots. But he managed to say, "You mean—that just a part of me will go."
Vaajo chuckled. "So. You saw last night's display, felt a taste of it perhaps, and you have guessed. Yes, your surmise is correct! We utilize the Rajec caravans. Two hundred yesterday, and fine specimens they were! But they are now mere walking hulks, devoid of all but the most meager mental impulses. Their bodies will be sent north to work the Uranium pits. Their minds have already been absorbed into my—shall we say, weapon, increasing its potential considerably."
Ketrik's brain seemed to twist inside his skull, until he could not tell whether he felt horror or fury or both. He only knew he must keep control, learn more of this grisly thing that Vaajo was conducting with human minds.... He found his own voice, hard and dry, saying, "Yes, I saw it last night, felt it ... but still I cannot understand...." He passed a hand across his forehead in seeming bewilderment. He heard Vaajo saying, "It cannot matter now, for my beam reached Earth last night ... yes, it would please me to tell you something of it! You must have heard of the ancient city of M'Tonak, lying far beneath Mars' Polar Cap. And the sentient thought-force that came from outer space, or another dimension—no one ever knew—to land at M'Tonak where it remained for untold centuries. Through all that time the Entity remained barely alive, unknown to man, sustaining itself by sending out invisible radiations that fed on Martian minds! And you must have heard of the Earthman, Jim Landor, who found his way there and destroyed the Entity, leaving it crushed beneath tons of ice. All this was before your time or mine. Over a hundred years ago...."[3]
Ketrik nodded. He had heard the story many times.
Dar Vaajo went on. "The story of the thought-entity beneath our ice cap had always intrigued me," he said. "So several years ago I sent some workmen to uncover that ancient city. Yes, you have guessed. The Entity hadn't died! It remained there insentient but alive, frozen into suspended animation beneath miles of ice! It was then that I remembered the stories of its power, its insatiable appetite for the mental forces of man ... and thereupon I evolved my scheme. It has been dangerous, Ketrik, but I worked slowly and carefully.
"The first step was to waken it, which was easy. The second step was to keep it under control—not so easy. But I managed this by means of Uranium rays which seems to be the only thing capable of combating the Entity's own peculiar atomic structure. That was the reason for my Uranium embargo; I've had to increase the potential of these controlling rays as the Entity grew in size and power."
"You mean you ...fed it? Allowed it togrow?" Ketrik was aghast, listening to this cold-blooded recital.
"Of course! How else was I to reach Earth with it, across miles of space? That was my ultimate goal."
"But how? It must have taken a tremendous ... surely the Rajecs were not enough?"
Vaajo smiled blandly from the screen. "I told you I worked slowly. I began by communicating with it, telepathically. Yes! It's a highly intelligent entity, and it wishes to remain alive. It seems it came originally from a worldin another dimension bordering on ours! It was the creation of a scientist on that world. The Entity became dangerous, threatened to get out of control, and could not be destroyed. The scientists rigged up a contra-dimensional device which hurled it out of that dimension. It landed quite by chance in ours—on Mars, near M'Tonak.
"So we made a sort of pact, the Entity and I. I wished it to grow in size and potential, but not at the sacrifice of my own people. I told it something of my plans. It, in turn, told me how to build a contra-dimensional machine by which to project it back into its own world! I managed this at last, adding a reverse control by which I could always bring it back.
"Fully a dozen times now it has crossed the dimensions. Whenever I brought it back, it had ...fed. You understand? It was satiating itself upon the populace of that other world! Until finally, it revealed to me that ... there was no more. The other-dimensional world was barren of sustenance!
"By this time, however, I was almost ready. It had grown tremendously in size and power. I always added more rays to keep it under control. Then I began testing for Earth, allowing it to reach out. Have you realized what a terrible weapon concentrated and projected thought can be? Several times it touched Earth spacers, absorbed the minds aboard them, and"— Dar Vaajo shrugged—"I had to send my Patrollers out afterwards to destroy the spacers. But never were we quite able to reach Earth! It would take more potential, just a little more, and where was I to find it? Then I thought of the Rajecs. I made treaty with them, built the temple here to attract them ... I guess you know the rest."
Ketrik knew the rest, and more. He knew that Earth would have to capitulate to Vaajo's demands, or face destruction by a mind-destroying, mind-feeding Entity now capable of reaching across space. Venus would undoubtedly be next, leaving Dar Vaajo in control of the inner planets including the colonies recently established on Jupiter's moons.
"So, Ketrik, I shall send you back to Mark Travers," Dar Vaajo was saying. "Four days from now the orbits of our two planets reach their nearest juxtaposition.Thenis when the Entity shall reach out again for Earth, to give another sample of my power." Vaajo smiled maddeningly just before he caused the screen to blank out. "And isn't it ironic that you, or rather the mental part of you, shall be an infinitesimal part of it!"
VII
It seemed hours later when Ketrik awoke. He had tried in vain to find a way out of the smooth,crystyte-walled room. He had sought to loosen one of the heavy stones in the floor until, with bleeding and broken-nailed fingers, he had fallen into a sleep of sheer exhaustion.
Now, in the exact center of the room, he noticed a platter of food. He frowned, until it dawned on him that it must have been lowered from the ceiling! He glanced up, but if the entrance was there, it was tightly closed now.
He ate the palatable food, but noticed the platter was of light plastex, could not possibly be used as a weapon or anything else. He made another search through his clothes, knowing it was useless. But suddenly he remembered the tiny scanner disc which Mark had given him. He had strapped it tightly to the underside of his arm ... and it was still there!
He could think of no use for it now, however. He was still pondering this, when his attuned ears caught a faint sound of footsteps overhead. A moment later a section of the ceiling slid back. Framed in the square of light Ketrik saw a face ... golden, a bit frightened.
Praana! Ketrik's heart leaped.
"Speak softly," she whispered. "You are in a room directly beneath the main palace. Father has gone for the moment, and I took this chance...."
"Why are you here?"
She spoke quickly. "A few hours ago I tuned my tele-vise into this one. I heard everything he told you! It's horrible, what he is doing—unbelievable! I hadn't known before! I knew he was conducting some sort of experiment ... but this...." The shock of it, even disbelief, was still mirrored on her face.
"Praana, listen to me! Doesn't your father have an Ethero-Magnum here, capable of reaching Earth?"
"Yes, in his own private quarters." She was puzzled.
"You must get to it! Tune it into the Earth beam, then give me a channel from this tele-vise here, into that beam. If I can reach Mark Travers, I'll have him send the Earth Fleet!"
He saw her hesitate. She knew that Mars' patrollers could not stand against Earth's mighty armada. She was visioning the holocaust, the destruction of Martian cities and her own people. Ketrik went on quickly.
"Praana, you've been to Earth! You spent most of your girlhood there, and you must remember it still, have a fondness for it! The green forests and wide lakes, the mountains, the unreal clouds in a blue sky—and the people who treated you kindly! All this will go, unless you act. Surely—"
"Mars is my world," she was murmuring. "My own people ... to consign them to another horrible war! Mars would never recover."
"It will not come to that! If Earth takes the initiative, sends its Fleet in a surprise attack—the display of power will be enough. Dar Vaajo will be helpless in the face of it." Ketrik was not at all sure this would be the case, but here was his only chance. "Quickly ... we haven't much time!"
Praana was wavering. "You saved my life," she whispered. "Yes, I will try!" She tossed an electro-gun down to him, her own gun. Then she was gone, as the ceiling door went shut.
Ketrik waited, facing the wall which he knew was the tele-vise. Minutes passed, seemed to lengthen interminably. If he couldn't get through to Mark ... if Praana failed to gain access to the Ethero-Magnum, that was his last hope.... He wondered if she knew how to operate it!
Suddenly a pale glow came across the wall, wavered for a moment and then deepened. He was looking into a luxurious room which must be somewhere in the palace above him. At the far end he saw the magnificent Ethero-Magnum, with Praana standing before it manipulating the controls. He heard the ascending whine as selenic cells poured power into the beam, then minutes passed as it gained full strength. At last a voice came through faint and clear! Mark Travers' voice saying cautiously, "Go ahead, go ahead! You're on Earth beam."
"Ketrik speaking! Mark, listen carefully now and act fast! Mass the Earth Fleet, get it to Mars. Blast the city of Turibek clear off the planet if you have to! Things—"
"The Fleet," Mark cut in, "is already on its way, in full battle formation! Something happened here about thirty hours ago that I suspect is Vaajo's work! Touched an area just south of Kansas City. It's horrible! Everyone within that area—"
"Spare me the details, I know them anyway. Dar Vaajo plans to give you another taste in three days, on what I think will be a vastly wider scale! After that, he'll probably give his ultimatum."
"What is it he's got there?" Mark's voice was harried. "And where are you—"
"No time to tell you now! You wouldn't believe me anyway, and there's no defense against it except to get that Fleet here and fast! I only hope—"
The beam went suddenly dead. For a second the screen blurred, then Ketrik was looking into the room of the Ethero-Magnum again. But it was a different scene now.
Different, because Dar Vaajo strode swiftly into view! He approached Praana who straightened up suddenly from the Magnum's panel. Vaajo was trembling with rage, but Praana faced him defiantly. For a moment no one spoke. Then Vaajo turned, facing the screen so Ketrik could see him. Anger was still on his face, but something of triumph too.
"I really should thank you, Ketrik—and my daughter! I couldn't, have planned it better myself. So the entire Earth Fleet is coming, and I am warned! I shall wait until they are almost here before I use my weapon; yes, it should cover the entire expanse of the Fleet at one stroke! And after that"—he shrugged, permitted his cruel lips to fashion the faintest of smiles—"after that, what shall I have to fear from a Fleet manned by mindless idiots? Yes, it will be a master stroke! Again I thank you."
He flicked off the control. The screen before Ketrik's eyes went dead, almost as dead as the hope within him.
The Fleet might have gotten through and taken Vaajo unawares, if it hadn't been for him! Now Vaajo was warned, and Ketrik knew it was no idle boast he had made. The awful power of the Entity was quite capable of dealing with the Earth Fleet, especially as the Commanders had no idea of the type of thing they were facing. That it would strike suddenly and completely, Ketrik had no doubt.
His soul was bitter within him. He had but one chance left, a wild and improbable chance, but he mustn't miss! It was hours later when he again heard footsteps overhead. He threw himself to the floor, pretended to be asleep. The electro was in his hand, carefully concealed beneath him.
As he thought, it was a Guard bringing him food. From lowered lids he saw the ceiling trap slide back—slowly at first, then wider. The Guard leaned over, concentrated on lowering the platter of food on a long cord. When it had almost touched the floor, Ketrik brought out his hand and fired. It was simple as that. The man's body toppled through the opening, made a dull thud on the floor below.
So far so good, Ketrik thought grimly. He bunched the dead man's limbs under him, stood upon the sagging shoulders and leaped for the opening. A moment later he was swinging his body up and through.
He was in a dim, carpeted corridor, probably part of the servants' quarters. He hurried softly past a row of doors to the end of the hall, then up a short flight of stairs. A heavy door faced him. He pushed it open cautiously, then stepped out into a small flower garden. It was night, but Phobos was making a brilliant path across the sky. Unfortunate. But he'd have to make the best of it now.
He hugged the shadows until he got his bearings. This was the rear of the palace, he realized; at least that was lucky, for it brought him closer to that glass-domed building which he was sure was Vaajo's laboratory. It should be somewhere to the left of here.
Swiftly he crossed the garden. He passed through a tall hedge which concealed him from the palace. He followed the shadow of it all the way to the left, until he came in sight of the laboratory building. It was lying only fifty yards away—but fifty yards drenched in Phobos' glow!
He hesitated. But there was no other way. He started across the space leisurely, remembering he was still "Martian." The building was dark, there seemed to be no Guards about.
He was wrong in the latter surmise, he learned when he had almost reached the building. A voice challenged him. Almost in the same instant he saw the man, deep in the shadow of an arched doorway. Ketrik veered toward him, grunted something in reply and raised a hand in casual greeting. The Guard hesitated. Ketrik came two steps nearer. The Guard dropped a hand to his gun, and Ketrik hurled himself forward—low and hard.
The impact carried the Guard backward. Their combined weight crashed into a door, nearly taking it from the hinges. Ketrik rose quickly but the Guard didn't rise at all, and Ketrik knew his luck was still with him.
He changed his mind a second later. He heard shouts and pounding feet. Guards were all about the place, probably stationed at each of the doors! For a split second Ketrik hesitated. The only way now, wasin.
He hurled his weight forward and the already weakened door crashed open.
He hurried recklessly forward through darkness. He touched a smooth marble wall, allowed his fingertips to brush lightly along it as he ran. His racing feet sent up echoes in the hollow place.
The Guards were crowding through the doorway behind him now. Suddenly lights leaped up! Just as suddenly, Ketrik swerved aside. An electro-beam hummed, came so close to him he could feel the swirling heat. He hurled himself into a dim cross-corridor, as more electros lanced out. But Ketrik was expert at this game. He raced for a stairway he could see just ahead. He was halfway up when the others came into view below him. He whirled, gave a sweeping burst with his own gun that sent them tumbling back out of range. He gained the second floor corridor.
Suddenly the lights came on there too! Someone at the master-switch was throwing on light all over the place! Ketrik preferred darkness. He couldn't keep this up interminably. Feet pounded on the stairs now. He opened the nearest door, slipped into a dark room. There he stood breathing heavily as the pursuers pounded by. He waited until their footsteps died away, then opened the door a crack.
It was almost his undoing. A beam creased his hair. He drew back, then suddenly flung the door wide and fired at the man they had left to guard the stairs. His beam sliced across the Guard's wrist, sent his gun spinning. But the man's scream of pain sent up shrill echoes that would bring the others back. Ketrik bowled the man aside as he leaped for the stairs leading up. At least he'd gained a few minutes!
He wasn't fleeing blindly now. He had an objective. He was sure the place he sought layabove—somewhere near that great, curved glass roof. He reached the third floor and continued upward. Then he groaned. The stairs ended at the next floor. A heavy metal door barred his way. He wasted precious seconds fumbling at the complicated mechanism—was about to use his electro to burn it away, when the great handle slid down under his pressure and the ponderous door swung aside. He leaped forward into more darkness.
There he paused, electro raised. This would be cutting off his own retreat, but he had to do it now! The beam lashed out, played across the door's inner mechanism. Gradually the tough metal fused under the heat. Ketrik made a thorough job of it, was satisfied at last that it would take them some time to blast through!
But he couldn't hear them out there. They should have reached the door by this time. He frowned, then drew out the short-wave scanner disc. He pressed the stud and tiny coils hummed to life. He moved the sliding sheathes around the rim and at last a thought-impression came through—a jumble of them. Ketrik knew his pursuers were standing on the stairs, hesitant and a bit frightened, staring at the metal door. Then a stronger impression came out of the thought-jumble as one of the Guards spoke. "Shall we go ahead? We can burn through the door."
"Enter that place?" came an answer, and Ketrik felt the mental shudder that came with the words. "I'd sooner go unarmed into a den ofhellas!"
Other thoughts agreed. Ketrik grinned there in the dark. He knew now, that somewhere beyond him must be the lair of Dar Vaajo'sEntity, and these men were deathly afraid of it. Finally another thought stabbed through.
"Very well. There's no retreat for him now anyway. We'll wait here, but one of you hurry to the palace and bring Dar Vaajo!"
Ketrik acted quickly then. He found the lights, saw that he was in a small metal-walled room. On the opposite side was another door, and near it was a tall case containing half a dozen protective suits.
He hurriedly donned one. It wasn't hard to guess what they were for. The suit itself was of light mesh-beryllium, topped by a heavycrystytehelmet. Again he brought his weapon into play, destroyed the other five suits. Let Vaajo come! He would hardly dare enter this den without protective gear!
But even within the suit Ketrik didn't feel quite safe. He still remembered the power of the thing he had felt the previous night. His stomach turned over in a frightened yawn as he stepped through the opposite door.
VIII
He was on a wide balcony. Near at hand was a tele-vise, a control-studded panel, and other complicated machinery. Overhead, seeming so near he could almost touch it, the great laboratory dome stretched out and away in its vast curve. While below ... was emptiness. Now for the first time he realized the gigantic proportions of this building. A hundred feet below he saw bare floor. Probably twice that distance away, straight across from him, he could make out the opposite wall. There was nothing more, nothing in all that maw of space.
Peering at the walls, he saw strange instruments protruding. Short and tubular, literally thousands of them reached from the floor to the height of this balcony, stretching away across the walls as far as he could see. Ketrik thought he knew what they were—but he had to be sure.
He looked at the controls all about him. One huge panel contained thousands of studs. He depressed one. From the far away opposite wall a ray of white light needled out and slightly downward. He swept his hand across more studs, and other beams lanced out from the four walls—dozens, then hundreds. Ketrik was satisfied. Here, he knew were the controlling rays which Vaajo had spoken of. He shut the rays off, and looked further about him.
There was only the tele-vise, and two other instruments. One was merely a wheel, six feet in diameter. The other was a machine complicated beyond anything Ketrik had ever imagined. Giant tubes, coils, and alien looking grids nestled in the bulk of it. Cables thick as his arm led to the nearest wall, thence upward to the lower rim of the glassite dome, and completely around it. From there, other cables dangled downward for a few feet into empty space.
Ketrik approached the control panel. It seemed simpler than he had supposed, but he studied it a while before reaching out a tentative hand to the first switch. The coils shrieked maddeningly, then the sound ascended the scale and passed beyond the audible. The giant tubes pulsed to life, throwing out a silver radiance. Then Ketrik reached out to what seemed to be a master-lever. He pulled it slowly toward him.
There came a sound, a sighing, which rose to tremendous crescendo as though every wind from the depths of space were sweeping in upon him! An awful vertigo as the dome, the floor, and all space between seemed to tilt crazily—intonothingness! He clung to the lever, sought to push it back. His mind reeled. Everything before him was merging into a grotesquerie of impossible angles and planes—and through it all came a twisting vortex of darkness, utter emptiness, that sought to sweep him out and away!
Then the lever gave before his surging muscles. It fell back into place. Everything came back to normal—except Ketrik. He allowed the dizziness to pass, and then grinning, he tried the stunt again! Two, three times more he tried it, with the same result, until he was quite sure of his mastery over that control.
For here was the machine he had hoped to find! Here was the means and the only means, of ridding the System once and for all of that Entity which Dar Vaajo in his madness had built up into such a weapon; a terribly alive weapon which, if allowed to go unchecked, with or without Dar Vaajo, could well become a menace to all the worlds! Ketrik realized that his task had reached the crucial point. A single mistake now, a mere miscalculation, and all would be over. So far he had only seen a manifestation of the Entity, not the thing itself. But he knew it must be here, somewhere very close—and waiting....
He stepped over to the towering perpendicular wheel.
It moved easily beneath his hand. He was tense now, watching the great expanse of floor a hundred feet below. His surmise was correct. A tiny crack appeared there, extending the length of the floor. And upward from it came light—greenish, terrible light which he'd felt before, which he knew was the Entity itself, eager to lash outward! Almost, Ketrik hesitated. But he forced his hand to move the wheel.
The crack widened as the floor moved away on either side. Gradually he could see the Entity, the very bulk of it—maddening, impossible—but there it was! Fully a hundred feet across, greenish and blinding! It was roughly globular, seemed to be a giant brain slowly pulsing and evilly alive, yet somehow it was more than that. It was quasi-amorphous, writhing and changing shape and trying to heave itself upward! Tentacles lashed out—tentacles that seemed to be solidified light, seeking ... seeking for sustenance!
It began to move upward. Up between the walls on a sliding platform, to a point just above the floor, where it stopped. Some of its light touched Ketrik, beat against his helmet and surged about him, tearing with cold fingers at his beryllium suit. In his absorbing interest he had almost forgotten the controlling rays! He hurled himself at the panel. With reckless sweeps of his hands he flicked on the studs.