Ramey said, "Then youknewof the time-machine?"
"Of a certainty, my son. Was it not built by my own blood-brother, Rudra, who, until he grew restless and fretful, ruled this colony with me? Ah, he was a brilliant one, Rudra, and a great scientist. It was he who designed thevilyishna, aye, and even the Bow of Death which now you bear. Important things might he and I have accomplished had he been content to stay here with me. But a score of years ago, dissatisfied and impatient, he built in the chamber beneath the altar room the cabinet which flies backward in Time. In this cabinet he made many trips into the past, returning ever and anon to amuse me with tales of marvels seen. But ever longer and more daring grew his trips, until finally there was one from which he returned not ever, nor the cabinet in which he had gone. Tell me—and saw you my blood-brother Rudra in the era whence you came?"
Dr. Aiken shook his head sorrowfully. "No, my Lord. We saw him not. The cabinet was thick with dust, and Rudra's bow lay on the floor. The machine itself had lain hidden in its chamber from the sight of man for countless centuries."
Sugriva sighed.
"Then he is indeed perished. But tell me—how came you to find the cabinet? And from what ancient era came you? Rudra found many signs of life in the ages he traversed, but never a race of Earthmen cultured as yourselves."
"We are not from the Past, my Lord, but the Future."
"Future! But my brother's machine could not safely move forward in Time! He told me so. Only into the Past—"
"Nevertheless, he must have tried. For we found his cabinet in an age five thousands of years later than this."
Sugriva nodded dolefully.
"Now I can guess why he returned not. He was daring, my brother. Too daring. But—the future, you say? Tell me, then—is my small colony a great and beautiful metropolis in the period whence you came hither?"
"Not so, my Lord Sugriva," answered Dr. Aiken regretfully. "Somewhere in the centuries which span between now and our era, an evilness has befallen this colony of yours. For in the world we left behind us, these mighty halls and temples are but a haunting wonder lost in the slumbering sea of leafy jungles."
Sugriva's sadness deepened.
"This is grievous news you bring me, my friends. If what you say is true, if fifty centuries hence this colony is vanished, its people scattered, then my labors here are of no avail. And my mission on Earth has failed. But—why?"
It was a question for which the time-exiles knew no answer. Its solution lay yet in Sugriva's future, and was so far buried in their world's past as to be a forgotten secret. But they were spared the necessity of answering. For at that moment came an interruption. There wakened a flurry of action at the central gate, the doorway opened, and through its great portals swept a woman.
Andwhata woman! She was tall ... much taller than the average man, almost as tall as Ramey himself. But there was no gangling awkwardness to her height. Her figure was perfectly proportioned to her stature. She walked with the slow and lithe and languorous grace of a jungle creature. A panther, perhaps, thought Ramey, with rapt approval watching her move nearer. Yes, assuredly a panther. For she was neither white nor Mongolian. Her skin was the soft, fine ivory of the Eurasian. Ivory, shading to tawny gold with the contours of her body, deepening with the curve of her thigh, the round of her elbow, the shadowy cup of her breasts. Pantherine, too, were her eyes. Triangular eyes, long-lashed and lazy, with pupils of dusty emerald.
Captain Kohrisan sprang to attention as she approached, saluted and cried introduction:
"My lords—the Lady Rakshasi!"
"—Or Not to Be"
The Lady Rakshasi spoke, and her voice was just what Ramey thought it would be. Throaty and mellow, caressing-low with a throbbing undertone of promise. She addressed Sugriva, and her words included all present, but there was that in her tone, her manner, the sidelong appraisal of her eyes, which made Ramey feel her welcome was for him alone.
"Greetings, Sire. My brother tells me the Children of the Gods favor us with a visit. I come to welcome them."
Red Barrett made no attempt to conceal his frank admiration. He said, "Don't mention it, baby. Boy, Ramey, I'm getting gladder we come every minute. They grow 'em terrific around these parts! First little carrot-top, here, then this Ziegfeld doll—"
The Lady Rakshasi looked confused.
"I am sorry," she apologized. "The red-haired god no doubt speaks words of great wisdom. But his humble maid-servant does not understand."
"It is nothing," Ramey assured her hastily. "The red-haired god but expresses his pleasure." Aside to Barrett he whispered, "Utcay the ackscray, opeday!" and Lake O'Brien guffawed loudly.
The interview was brief. That was Sugriva's doing. Politely, but with gentle firmness, he told her, "You have done well, Lady Rakshasi. The gods are pleased with your attendance. But now you must leave, for they would rest. They have come from afar to visit their worshippers, and they are weary."
The lovely Rakshasi bowed obedience. "Yes, Sire. I hear and obey. But ere I go, my brother bids me tender unto you his humblest apology for that which transpired in this hall. He bitterly rues his hastiness. He was confused, he bids me say, and overcome with awe by the presence of gods."
"It is forgotten," said Sugriva graciously. "Go now in peace, my lady. Convey to your brother our forgiveness."
Rakshasi left, but Ramey's eyes followed her to the door. And the golden creature knew it, for just as she slipped from the chamber she turned once more, and for a fleeting instant her green eyes met Ramey's fascinated gray ones. And the look that passed between them held little of piety.
Then she was gone, and with her departure it was as if a disturbing fever had left the room. Ramey, feeling the gaze of Lake O'Brien curious upon him, felt a stab of warmth in his cheeks, and wondered just how much an ass he had made of himself. Apparently he had done a pretty fair job of it, for the one person whose eyes would not meet his was Sheila. And strangely, now that Rakshasi was gone, it was the clear, mist-blue sanity of Sheila's eyes that Ramey wanted most to look upon. He shook himself angrily and turned to Sugriva.
"Sire, you permitted the Lady Rakshasi to believe we are gods. Why? When you know we are not."
The Venusian overlord nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, my friend, I did not disabuse her belief. But it was no useless deceit. What I did, I did for your own safety."
"Our safety, my Lord?"
"You have probably already guessed that Ravana is no more of this earth than am I. As my people come from Gaanelia, that planet which you know as the morning or evening star, he and his giant underlings spring from the red desert planet of Videlia."
"Videlia?" repeated Dr. Aiken. "You mean—Mars?"
Sugriva searched his brain, nodded.
"Yes. That is its name in your language."
Lake O'Brien moaned.
"Sweet saints, 'what fools we mortals be'! And men think they are intelligent. Yet here, five thousand years before our time, the civilizations of our two neighboring worlds have simultaneously developed spaceflight—"
"No, my friend. It was we, and only we, who learned the secret of spaceflight. And like fools, we gave it away."
"Gave it to the Videlians?"
"Yes. We Gaanelians are a quiet, peaceloving people. For centuries our culture has been great. Our cities dwarf anything you humans know. Our commerce, agriculture and industry are great. We want for nothing. Thus we have turned our leisure hours to the pursuit of knowledge and the refinement of art.
"Our science discovered the secret of flight amongst the stars. Our expeditions flew to all the children of the Sun; to the planets you know as Mercury, Mars, even massive Jupiter and far, frozen Pluto.
"Only on three other planets, however, did we find life. Here on Earth—crude, nomadic barbarism for the most part, with only in one or two places the rude beginnings of a social culture—on the second moon of Jupiter, and on Mars.
"The Martian, or Videlian, culture alone was in any way equal to our own. In our blind altruism we freely gave the videlian giants our great secret—" Sugriva smiled ruefully—"and now we regret it. For we have learned that the Videlians are not such lovers of peace as we. They are hard cruel people, greedy and grasping, predatory. Their space-vessels, like ours, have brought colonists to Earth. And of these interlopers, Lord Ravana is ruler. Lately it has became increasingly clear that he has not the same benevolent designs on the people of Earth that I was sent here to bring about."
"You mean he wants Earth for himself?"
"That is what I suspect and fear. Consider. With a whole wide world of pleasant hills and valleys in which to establish himself, Ravana chose to construct his fortressed capital on an inaccessible island sixty miles off this mainland—the Isle of Lanka.
"While he has pretended friendship, visiting me here and occasionally inviting me to his island stronghold, I have heard strange rumors about his over-lordship. Where as it has ever been the Gaanelian desire to achieve harmony between our race and yours, it is hinted that the humans who serve Ravana do so not as willing subjects but as—slaves! We have tried to pass on to our neighbors something of our learning and culture, exhibiting good will and friendliness. But I am told that what Ravana wants he exacts by forceful means.
"It was to investigate these rumors that I recently sent for representatives of all Earth's governments to meet here at Chitrakuta. You saw these representatives, I believe, in the altar room?"
Ramey nodded. "They didn't seem to be particularly fond of Ravana. I don't blame them much. There's a brutal streak in the guy. His first idea, when the idol spoke, was to pacify it with a human sacrifice. If we hadn't spiked that deal, I'm afraid this young lady—" He nodded toward the chestnut-haired beauty clinging close to Barrett's side—"wouldn't be with us now.
"Well, Sugriva, I'm beginning to understand the setup now. It's not so unusual. The world we left behind was being sadly muddled by a mob with pretty much the same idea as the Videlians. They want to be top-dogs or nothing. So, now that we're here, what can we do to help you out? You want us to continue playing gods while you hold your round table conferences with the boys in the back room?"
But Sugriva shook his head. "Not now, my friend. I shall explain that later. First you must have food, rest, time to collect your thoughts. Meanwhile, guard carefully the Bow. It is of vital importance. Kohrisan—" The ape-captain saluted smartly—"Show our guests to chambers where they may rest and refresh themselves."
The time-farers allowed themselves to be led away.
So began the incredible adventure, the "strange journey" of which Johnny Grinnell, in the prescience of life's ending, had spoken.
It was Syd O'Brien's idea when, that evening, after having bathed, napped or refreshed themselves as each saw fit, they gathered again in the garden-close outside their quarters, that they should bring this episode to a close. The gloomy twin looked—if such a thing were possible—more disgruntled than ever.
"If you ask me," he said, "we ought to get going."
"Going?" repeated his brother.
"That's what I said. I don't like this business of messing around in things that happened five thousand years before we were born. It's not normal and it's not right. No good will come of it. I'm for getting back to the time-cabinet and pulling out of there before something happens and we can never get back."
Sheila gasped, "And miss this marvelous opportunity to discover the truth about things men have always wondered about, argued over? Why, Syd, we haven't even begun to discover the marvels of Angkor!"
Dr. Aiken said seriously, "Yes, Sydney, Sheila is right. Fate has granted us an opportunity to solve more of the mysteries of Man's beginnings than all earth's savants have been able to uncover in two thousand years. It is more than an opportunity; it is an obligation! We cannot leave yet. Why—" His fine old eyes glowed—"this afternoon as the rest of you slept, I wandered through the courts and the temples, conversing in their ancient tongues with men whose races were vanished before the first recorded history was written! Already I have learned enough to establish an entirely new chronology of history. And I have merely skimmed the surface!"
"Just the same—" grumbled Syd.
"Just the same," snapped his brother, "you're nuts! Back in our time, these temples are probably crawling with a regiment of vengeful Japs, wondering where the hell we disappeared to. It would be suicidal to go back now. We'd better just sit tight for a week or so ... take advantage of our opportunity, and return to our own time with a real contribution to science."
So it was decided. And somehow a week passed. Where fled those warm days and even more languorous nights, Ramey Winters could never afterward tell. For there was much to be seen and done, and once the weird comprehension of their actuallybeinghere established itself in his mind, Ramey, like all the others, dipped eagerly into the garnering of new knowledge.
With the Lord Sugriva they spent many hours. Even feeling sure, as they did, that everything the blue lord of Angkor told them was true, some of his statements were so fantastic as to be almost incredible. As when Dr. Aiken queried him on the extent of Gaanelian colonization.
"I do not know, exactly," admitted Sugriva. "But there must be five, six, perhaps more colonies. One of my compatriots, I know, governs an outpost south and west of here. A desolate territory bordered on the north by vast desertland. Another bears the light of culture to jungle natives on a far continent, a hemisphere removed. Still a third has established himself on a tiny island to the west, where the mighty sea begins."
"Lower Egypt!" cried Dr. Aiken raptly. "Its culture, differing sharply from that of the Upper Kingdom, has always puzzled archeologists. The lost Merouvian civilization which left great paved roads and cities where now is Peru. And a tiny island—?"
"England!" cried Sheila. "Daddy, that explains why the legend of the 'blue gods' persists in ancient Anglo-Saxon history. The Druids worshipped 'men from the skies.' They had their 'sky-blue heaven' of Tir-n'a-nog. And as late as 1,000 A.D. the Picts went forth to battle with their bodies painted with blue pigment!"
But again, as before, arose the question: if these colonies now existed, into what darkness had they disappeared that those of the Twentieth Century knew them only as legend? This was a cause of great sadness to Sugriva.
"I can only confess," he conceded regretfully, "that somehow our mission, the bringing of culture to your less enlightened Earth races, must have failed. Why, I do not know."
Here a great thought struck Ramey Winters.
"But if we could only find out what destroyed your attempt, perhaps we could do something to prevent it!" His eyes glowed. "What a glorious thing for mankind! Already you have converted men from nomadic wanderers into a semi-cultured people. If that cause which destroyed—or is to destroy—your tutorship were to be removed—" Ramey faltered over the use of tense, feeling keenly the anomaly of their position as men of a future age, living in a past, being part of that past, yet knowing inerrably that which was to come—"Why, then, the whole history of mankind could be changed! There would be no decay in Egyptian culture, no Rome rising mightily, then toppling, no long Dark Ages. There would be only steady progress, ever forward, upward, to greater knowledge!"
Syd sniffed, "You're day-dreaming, Ramey. The fact that we exist proves that the history of mankind took a certain channel. There's no way of changing that. Is there, Doctor?"
"I don't know, Sydney. There is much to be said on either side. It may be that history is, as you say, unchangeable. But there is the problem of causality. Once this erawas. We, having not been born then, were not here. Causes developed effects new causes—and a course of history was written leading to the world we know.
"But a new factor enters an old equation. This era againis, but we who do not properly belong here have entered into the picture by way of a time-machine. It is conceivable that our verybeing hereis sufficient of a cause to change and divert the entire sequence of events which would otherwise have been the 'future.'"
"Rot!" snorted Syd. "Excuse me, Doctor, but that's not logical. For if our being here were to change history in any slightest way—then we would automatically cease to exist! Because the exact and precarious chain of circumstances which brought us into being would have been altered."
Exposure
So they dropped the matter there, completely unable to solve the problem, each convinced that his theory was correct, none without a lingering doubt but that the other's might be true. And the days sped by.
They were fruitful days. Lake, who had a flair for the philological, spent much time studying the Gaanelian language. To Red and Ramey, as professional airmen, what was of particular interest was the matter of spaceflight. Gaanelian ships, Sugriva told them, called regularly at every inferior conjunction of Earth and Venus, Videlian craft less frequently. "But often enough," the blue lord admitted ruefully.
"And these ships—" demanded Ramey eagerly. "Their method of propulsion? What is it?"
Sugriva frowned. "I am not sure I can tell you, my friend. I have searched my brain for the words in your tongue with which to explain—but they do not exist. It is a concept utterly foreign to your culture. The nearest I can come to an explanation is to say there are 'fields of force' between the planets, and on these fields the ships feed and ride."
"An electrical transmission of some sort, perhaps?"
But again the protector of Chitrakuta looked baffled. "Now there is a word in your tongue," he apologized, "which is foreign tome. A concept of your civilizationIcannot grasp."
And Ramey realized suddenly that despite its many magnificent scientific achievements, the Gaanelian race was apparently in total ignorance of electricity! It was used nowhere; not for heating, lighting, communication. He tried to explain the phenomenon to Sugriva, but it was a hopeless task.
"I am sorry, Ramey. But that is a study in which I am not adept. If you will but wait until the next spacecraft arrives, a matter of but a few months, there will be those on board with whom you can talk more understandingly."
And with this Ramey had to be content.
But if the blue lord's knowledge of mechanical science was deficient, he lacked few other qualifications of leadership. During the stay of the time-exiles was held the grand parlay for which representatives had been summoned from every corer of the civilized eastern world.
Sugriva proved superbly his right to rule. To the gratification of the assembled humans and the disgruntlement of the Lord Ravana he laid down the Law. That there should be at all times peace and amity between the natives of Earth and their foreign visitors. That Earthmen should feel always free to call upon those of Venus for information and aid in new projects. That the chosen of Earth's youth should gather annually in the nearest Gaanelian colony for instruction in knowledge and culture. That Gaanelians and Videlians should at all times respect the territorial rights of Earth's races, and should at no time make any demands upon persons or services of terrestrial subjects for which the Earthmen did not receive complete and satisfactory compensation.
There had to be teeth in this pronouncement. Sugriva bared them plainly, for the second time exhibiting the sternness which underlay his placid nature when he thundered determination to make all abide by this covenant, under pain of the displeasure and (if need be) the armed reprisal of the Gaanelian overlord. He did not hint what nature these sanctions might assume except to Ramey Winters, and then on only one occasion.
"Guard well the Bow of Rudra, Ramey Winters. The day may yet dawn when we will have need of it."
Ramey said, "But what is it supposed to do, Sire? I have experimented with it, but nothing seems to happen when I finger the grips. It's a pretty useless hunk of ordnance, if you ask me."
Sugriva said, "I am quite content that you do not know how to operate the Bow, my son. It is too dreadful a weapon to be lightly exploited. But if the time ever should come for its use—"
So the pact was drawn up, and the several races became signatories. It was a direct and challenging blow to the ambitions of the Lord Ravana, one that he swallowed with difficulty. But swallow it he did—though perhaps one of the greatest contributing factors to his signing was the fact that at the final meeting were ranged beside Sugriva the time-exiles—and that in Ramey's ready hand dangled nonchalantly the dreaded Bow of Rudra.
But the days at Chitrakuta, for such by now they had all learned to be the Gaanelian name for the temple they had known as Angkor Vat, were not all concerned with study or the grim business of government. There were hours of relaxation, too.
Red Barrett, for one, was thoroughly enjoying the championship of the beautiful damsel who had been placed in his care days before. Of course she proved a baffling bundle of loveliness in some respects. As on the first day, when Ramey chanced upon the duo in time to hear Red demanding perplexedly, "How? How's that? Come again, Toots!"
And: "Ich hight Evavne ab Daffydd y Marwnadd, mihr gneight," repeated his lovely charge demurely.
Red moaned. "Hey, Doc!" he yelled, "Hey, Sheila! Anybody got any spirits of ammonia with them? Toots, here, has the hiccups!"
Ramey went to his chum's aid. "What's wrong, Red?"
"It's Toots, here," complained Red aggrievedly. "I said to her, 'Look, Toots, I can't keep calling you "Toots" all the time. What's your real name?' So instead of giving me a straight answer, she makes with the double talk."
Dr. Aiken, who had been listening with amusement, now spoke up. "But the young ladydidanswer you, Barrett. She said she was 'Evavne, daughter of David and Marian.' And—" The old man smiled slyly—"I believe you've made something of an impression, my boy. She called you her—er—'knight'!"
"Yeah?" grinned Barrett. "Well, gee! That's okay, ain't it? Evavne, huh? Not a bad handle, Toots. But after this, you better talk English."
"Sheistalking English, Red."
"Huh? Aw, now, Doc—"
"Well, let us say, then, she is speaking the ancient tongue from which modern English derives. I fancy—" said Dr. Aiken speculatively—"our charming friend is a daughter of one of those races which first settled the British Isles. A Pict, or a Celt."
"All I got to say," grumbled Red, "is that going in thevilyishnawith us didn't do much good if that's the best English she can talk. Come on, Toots. You and me is going to see Sugriva and have him arrange another language-exchange in the recording booth."
And together they left on the expedition which was to remove their last lingual difficulty. They had no other kind.
Ramey Winters, too, was finding the soft, moonbright nights of Chitrakuta conducive to thoughts far removed from the grim ones of hatred, war and death that had governed his life until his translation into this elder world.
In Sheila Aiken he had found a woman who, after all these years of avowed misanthropy, had the power of arousing within him strange sensations. New sensations to Ramey Winters, perhaps, but sensations which any wise men could have told him were as old as humankind.
There was about her asomething—a peace, a quietude, a gentleness—which filled a vital need in his makeup, which calmed and complemented the flamelike restlessness of his own nature. With propinquity came greater admiration for Sheila Aiken. And as the days and nights, especially the nights, threw them into ever increasingly intimate contact, admiration deepened into something Ramey thought, believed, feared he could name—but dared not.
Vainly he reminded himself that he was a fighting man, a soldier. That all this madness was a strange interlude out of which sooner or later he must return to take his ordained place in the world he had left. That he must neither pledge himself nor demand pledges of one whose world was so far removed from his own.
But these decisions were more easily made than kept. And if, strolling at her side in the moonlight, Ramey never actually swept Sheila into his arms as he wished and knew he could, if he never actually spoke the words that with increasing frequency trembled on his lips, perhaps it was not necessary after all. For Sheila Aiken, though she had spent her twenty years living with men in wild, mannish places, was still inherently a woman. And she understood these things, and gloried in them.
And the days and the nights were sweet, and Chitrakuta was an Eden. But even Eden had its serpent....
Rakshasi had almost slipped from Ramey's memory. A week or more had passed since he had met her in the council hall of Sugriva when late one night there came to him a Videlian warrior bearing the message that the Lady Rakshasi awaited him in her apartment. He was urged to come, pleaded the messenger. A matter of grave importance.
Wondering, Ramey followed the man through darkened corridors to that section of the imperial city which housed the Videlian visitors.
If it were business the Lady Rakshasi wished to discuss, the manner of her approach to the subject would have been a revelation to the financial tycoons of Ramey's day. For when he entered her apartment it was to find a small chamber, intimately draped, warmly scented with the breath of perfume, and exotically furnished with a tumbled pile of silks and furs upon which gracefully reclined the golden woman of Mars.
In that room, enticingly dark save for small wicks guttering in corner niches, the Lady Rakshasi was more than ever the sleek, slumbrous cat of the jungles. The dusty emerald of her eyes lighted with invitation as he entered. She purred a word of command and the servant vanished. She and Ramey were alone.
"My Lord is gracious," she whispered in her husky voice, "to answer thus the plea of his humble servant." She touched the soft pillows beside her invitingly. "Would my Lord tarry and rest?"
He was, an inner consciousness warned Ramey, playing with fire. But an instinct stronger than reason lowered him beside her. This woman had something! The Hollywood of the world he had left behind would call it "oomph." More strictly rhetorical admirers would call it charm, fascination, allure. But he would have been a poor man indeed who could go without learning what the Lady Rakshasi wanted.
"Yes, my Lady?" asked Ramey. "What would you of me?"
The Lady Rakshasi turned slowly on one elbow, studied him long and lazily before answering. When she spoke her tone was servile still, but there was a question in her voice, and the suspicion of a challenge in her curious, heavy-lidded eyes.
"I called thee, my Lord," she replied, "to warn thee of an evil rumor which has of late gathered boldness in the temples. Believe truly that thy servant means no ill, nor doubts thy glory. But there are those who whisper that thou and thy companions are not gods at all—but only men! Some strangely say, men of another day."
"But, of course—" began Ramey. Then stopped, remembering the necessary deceit by which Sugriva hoped to maintain peace in the colony. He finished lamely—"But of course they jest! Surely all saw us come from the heart of the holy image?"
Rakshasi smiled. "Aye, even so, my Lord. Thus told I them. But there be ever those who doubt. And they murmur that ofttimes the actions of thy companions are strangely ungodlike. They eat, they sleep like mortals. From place to place they transport themselves on foot rather than by instantaneous translation, as all men know is the way of gods. And many are the questions they ask, when all know the gods are omniscient."
It was not, Ramey had to concede ruefully, not just a chink in the armor. It was a gaping hole, big enough to drive a Mack truck through. He and his friendsweretouring around Chitrakuta like a bevy of wide-eyed schoolkids, and certainly putting on one hell of an unecclesiastical show!
"When the gods walk amongst men," he told her firmly, "they conduct themselves in the fashion of their worshippers. It is no man's right to question these things."
"Aye, my Lord!" This time Rakshasi's agreement was more swift. He had, Ramey thought, pulled a successful sandy. "So told I them, yea, and even my brother Ravana which lent an ear to their impious murmurings. These are in truth the gods, spake I, come to mete justice and right to their children. Still—" Here her voice took on a plaintive, querulous tone—"Still cannot we of Videlia understand why the gods should show favor to the blue lord of Gaanelia, when it isourpeople which have ever been their most ardent followers. All know that the blue ones of Gaanelia are a cynical, impious race. Theirs is a culture of agnostic science. Many, indeed, have declared there are no gods at all, but only primal causes—"
"Hold, my Lady!" interrupted Ramey. "The protector Sugriva is a good man—"
A note of passionate rebellion throbbed in the golden one's voice. "A good man, aye!" she cried witheringly. "In his feeble way! But they are a decadent, dying race, the Gaanelians! Where as we of Videlia—" A tenseness gripped her figure, and the shadowy amber of her breast rose and fell with her emotion—"are a great and growing race, young and strong. As the gods," she cried challengingly, "have much to offer men, so have their followers much to offer the gods! Allegiance and devotion, aye, and sacrifice!
"Speak you, Lord Ramey—were it not to the gods' own benefit that they should cast down these weaklings of Gaanelia, and raise to the heights those who are their own true believers?"
Her meaning was clear. Ramey stared at her with sudden sharp intentness, a warning bell chiming in his ears. Here was open proof of the faithlessness Sugriva had feared. A plea for divine approval of Videlian ambitions. It was a good thing he had come here tonight. He must nip this movement in the bud.
"The gods, my Lady Rakshasi," he said sternly, "desire naught but peace. They will neither sponsor nor permit the elevation of one race over another. All must live in amity."
The golden amazon's excitement died. Her voice lost its challenging note and became softer, throatier, more insinuating. She stirred nearer him, and the silk rustled languid invitation. The warmth of her body touched his own, hip and thigh, and the scent of her hair was a titillation to his nostrils.
"But, say, my Lord," she whispered, "do not even the gods look with favor upon those who please them?"
The warning bell was clamoring brassily now. It rose and fell with the pound of Ramey's pulse. His temples hammered, his lips were parched, and forgotten now were Sugriva and Dr. Aiken, Red, the O'Briens, all those who had accompanied him into this strange adventure.
Even the mist-blue eyes of Sheila Aiken were a far memory, colorless and without warmth.
He choked, "It is ... true ... that even a god might look with longing upon ... one like you, Lady Rakshasi."
And she was closer still, the warmth of her tempting-near, her sleek, golden body yielding to his own, her breath upon his lips.
"Thou and I, if I delight thee, my Lord," she whispered. "Together might we raise Videlia into the power and glory which is rightly its own. With thy mighty arm, and with the strong Bow of Rudra, we will sweep all others before us. Nor shall we stand alone. For, lo—there is even my brother Ravana, whose heart sickens with hunger for the goddess Sheilacita who is in thy train."
Now the warning bell, which had become a faint tolling whisper almost submerged beneath the waves that engulfed Ramey Winters, burst suddenly into full, reverberant cry! With one shrugging movement he had thrust the tawny temptress from him and was on his feet.
"What!" he cried. "Ravana—and Sheila? You mean hedares—" His brow flamed with a sudden, red rage; anger that was darker still with the realization of the trap into which he had almost let his senses betray him. "No, Rakshasi! That cannot be! Sheila belongs tome! No other man—"
Then he stopped. For the Lady Rakshasi, too, was on her feet, panting and furious. The dusty emerald of her eyes was now the cold, burning green of glacial ice. Even in her outrage, her quick mind grasped the implication of his words.
"No otherman, my Lord? Then they were right! Thou are no god, but only a pretender! And Sugriva has lied. Well, he shall pay for his deceit. And you, too, poor mortal thing who prefers a pallid shadow to Rakshasi, you, too, shall regret this night.Go!"
She pointed a rage-trembling finger to the door. With a sick helplessness Ramey realized he had spoiled everything. To stay here now, to argue with this unreasoning amazon, would only make matters worse. He left.
In the late morning he woke from a tortured slumber to find Red Barrett leaning over him, shaking him. The brick-top was grinning mockingly.
"Boy, you sure were knocking 'em off. Know what time it is? Almost ten. Stir your stumps, keed; we got stuff and things to do today. Golly, your eyes look like a pair of frayed button-holes! If we was back in our own, honest-to-gosh time, I'd say you was out on a bender last night."
Ramey said drowsily, "Not a bad idea at that. When we do get back to our own time, which I hope will be soon, we'll have to give it a try, Red. A good one."
"Here's your pants," said Red. "Got good news this morning, anyhow. Know what happened during the night? That big, overgrown hunk of yellow nastiness and his gang pulled up stakes and scrammed out of here. I'm sure glad to see the last of him, ain't you? Though I got to admit that sister of his was a snappy looking—what's the matter, Ramey?"
Ramey, fully conscious now, was pawing anxiously through the tumbled silks and furs that were his bed. "Where is it?" he demanded. "Have you seen it?"
"Seen what?"
"The Bow!" rasped Ramey. "Rudra's weapon! It was here last night. Now I can't find it anywhere. And—" His eyes suddenly widened—"Ravana left Chitrakuta! Damnation! If he—Come on!"
With the now equally alarmed Red at his heels, Ramey dashed from the chamber. He hadn't far to go. He found the others—Dr. Aiken, both O'Briens, Sheng-ti, Sugriva—in the central court on which his room abutted. They were gathered in a tight knot; as one man they turned at his cry.
"Sugriva!" he called, "Order out the troops! There's trouble afoot. Red says Ravana left last night—and the Bow of Rudra is gone with him! Well, don't just stand there like that, staring at me!Dosomething!"
But it was Dr. Aiken who answered. There were white lines about the old man's lips that Ramey had never seen there before. His eyes were hard and worried. "The Bow!" he cried. "The Bow, too, Ramey? You hear that, Sugriva—?"
Despair seemed to settle like a black cloud over the Gaanelian's eyes; his shoulders sagged, and his voice was ominous. "I hear, indeed! And now is our plight truly perilous. For if they have the Bow, too—"
"What's this all about?" roared Ramey. "What do you mean, 'the Bow,too'? What else is missing?"
Syd O'Brien stared at him morbidly.
"We don't know how they did it, Ramey," he said, "or why. But when Ravana and his gang pulled out of here before dawn, they not only took with them the Bow of Rudra. They also—kidnapped Sheila!"
The two factions met on the causeway in furious combat.
The two factions met on the causeway in furious combat.
The two factions met on the causeway in furious combat.
The Isle of Slaves
"Sheila!" cried Ramey Winters. "Sheila—kidnapped! But Ravana wouldn't dare! And why should he—?" He stopped suddenly, the full and terrible import of Syd's words dawning upon him. Again he seemed to hear the soft voice of the Lady Rakshasi purring in his ears. "'Thou and I, my Lord ... sweeping all others before us. Nor shall we stand alone. For, lo—there is even my brother Ravana, whose heart hungers after the goddess Sheilacita....'"
And Ramey saw, now, the full price he was paying for one careless slip of the tongue last night. So long as he and his companions were considered gods by the superstitious Videlians, none would have dared lay a hand on any of them. But he had dispelled that illusion, and the bold Ravana, aware at last that it was only men with whom he had to deal, had moved toward the accomplishment of his ambitions.
Ramey's fists knotted at his sides. He cried harshly, "Well, what are we waiting for? After them! Sugriva—surely you know which way they went?"
"Without a doubt," admitted the blue lord of Chitrakuta, "to Ravana's island stronghold of Lanka. And—Kohrisanwasorganizing a company to pursue them. But now he cannot."
"Cannot? Why not?"
"The Bow! Did you not say the Bow had been stolen?"
"Yes, but—"
"If Ravana turns it against us," declared the Gaanelian sombrely, "then are we all destroyed. And the plight of Sheila Aiken is an hundredfold worse."
"But the Bow ain't working," pointed out Red Barrett swiftly. "Ramey and me tried it out. Nothing happened."
Sugriva turned to the young airman eagerly. "Is this true, Ramey Winters?"
Ramey nodded. "I told you about it, my lord, remember? And you said it was just as well it wasn't operating. I pressed all the triggers, or grips, or whatever they are, but nothing happened. Nothing that Red and I could see, anyway. As a matter of fact, we couldn't even figure out what was supposed to happen."
Sugriva said, "You would have seen, my friend, had a charge fueled the Bow. I know not where you made this experiment, but believe me, had its chamber been munitioned, every living thing within range of the Bow's tremendous arc would have instantly withered and flamed in sudden death. Never in the world was there ever a more terrible weapon than that invented by my brother Rudra."
Red said, "You mean the Bow is a sort of a—a heatray, or something?"
"You might call it that," agreed the blue lord. "It might more accurately be termed a projector ofcoldheat."
"Cold heat?" snorted Lake O'Brien. "That's rhetorical jabberwocky! Sounds like 'dark light'!"
Dr. Aiken raised a thoughtful head. "Yes, Lake, but don't forget—thereissuch a thing as dark light. Rays that span distances invisible, and remain unseen until they touch the object upon which they are focussed. I can conceive of a cold heat which might be similar. A fierce, burning ray which does not expend its force until it touches the living object on which it has been aimed. Is this what you mean, Sugriva?"
The blue lord nodded. "Exactly, my friend. But not necessarily must the Bow be aimed at its target. Whatever it touches, that it consumes. Once—" His eyes clouded and he shook his head sorrowfully—"once, some decades ago when our colonies were first established, we were constrained to employ force against a camp of rebel Earthlings who seized and held one of our citadels. The destruction was—horrible. The entire fortress was seared clean of life. The very stones in the walls melted and ran together."
The maid Evavne spoke. "Yes, my lords, the governor Sugriva speaks truly. This happened even in my own land. There on a lifeless hill still stands the molten fortress, desolate and parched as if stricken by the lightnings."[8]
Ramey Winters was chafing with inactivity. Now he growled, "All right! But even granting the Bow is a frightful weapon, why should that stop us if it is not charged?"
"That is just the point," Sugriva told him. "It may be charged by now. There is no doubt but that the lord Ravana knows the manner of its fueling."
"Manner? You mean it requires some strange kind of ammunition?"
"Even so. That which must be fed into the operating chambers is a rare and obscure metal. I doubt that in all Chitrakuta there is sufficient of this precious element to charge the Bow a single time. But Ravana, having plotted this move for a long time, will have secretly stored fuel to gorge its lethal maw. We have no way of knowing, of course. But it would be suicidal to move against Ravana until wedoknow."
Red grunted, "Then we've got to find out, that's all! If he ain't got ammunition for the Bow, we've got to close in on him. If he has, somehow we got to get the Bow back. That right, Ramey?"
But it was not Ramey who answered. The reply sprang from an unexpected source. From thebonze, Sheng-ti, who now moved forward thoughtfully.
This was a different Sheng-ti from him who had eked out a squalid existence in the labyrinths of Angkor Vat. The elderly priest was clean, erect; eyes which had once veiled lurking mists of insanity now gleamed with shrewd reason.
"I am a man of peace, O my friends," he said. "Yea, even a priest of the very God of Peace. Yet much have I seen and learned in this strange world, much thought since my brain was swept clear of its fog by the lord Sugriva.
"And methinks the Way of Peace, which is the way of the lord Sugriva, now trembles under the blows of the Way of Darkness. Surely my Lord Buddha would advise that in a time like this a man must make a choice.
"So—mark ye! The Lord Ravana knows me not. I have been hid from his sight throughout the days of our stay here. My skin is yellow as that of the natives of these parts. Is there not some way in which I might gain entrance to Ravana's stronghold and there, perchance, regain the stolen weapon?"
Sugriva said slowly. "That might be possible. Yes ... itispossible...."
"Where is this Isle of Lanka?" demanded Ramey hotly.
"Not far from here. But a few hours' journey. It is a tiny island securely situated in the center of a great lake which lies to the south."
"Tonlé Sap!" cried Lake O'Brien with sudden comprehension. "That's the only great lake around these parts!" But Ramey was still pressing the ruler of Chitrakuta breathlessly.
"Your people are artists in many ways, my lord. Say, do they not also know the art of disguise? You have paints and pigments. Can you not darken my skin, make me seem like a wanderer from the Indies, and let me accompany Sheng-ti?"
Sugriva nodded. "Yes, it could be done, my son."
Dr. Aiken cried, "But, no, Ramey! We need you here with us. Let Sheng-ti go alone—"
"I got us into this mess," gritted Ramey, "and it's up to me to get us out again. There's no use talking, Doc, I've made up my mind. The rest of you stay here and plan a campaign against Lanka. Sheng-ti and I are going to get the Bow—and Sheila!"
Thus it was that before the sultry tropic sun hung high in the heavens, two seeming native coolies shuffled down the road that stretched beside the grey and greasy Siem-Reap to the lake called Tonlé Sap. Scuffed sandals shod their feet, loose hats of woven rush shadowed their faces, and the rudest of garments, tattered and begrimed, hung from their shoulders. Only, hot and heavy next to his skin, concealed by the folds of his coolie wrapper, Ramey Winters felt the reassuring bulk of an Army automatic; sole note, in this strange, forgotten world, of a civilization left behind—a civilization not yet born.
The scenery about him was not unfamiliar. The slow years work few changes in areca and coconut. Great, writhing diptocarpus trees flung air-roots ten feet in diameter across laboring branches; the sluggish river swelled into stagnant pools aflame with hyacinth and lily; from the all-engulfing jungle whispered the furtive sounds of hotland life. Once a mild, incurious water buffalo rose, snorting, from its muddy wallow to watch their passage; once a gaunt crane rose before them, lifting awkwardly on wings that flailed the sodden air as if too weak to bear their burden.
The scenery was not unfamiliar—save in one respect. The road on which they walked. It was not the typical baked-clay road of the Cambodia Ramey Winters had known. It was a broad and well-paved highway, sturdy enough to bear even the transport of a highly mechanized era. Treading its solid surface, Ramey marveled aloud, as oft before, that such a civilization should have been lost to man's very memory in the mists of time.
"I can't understand, Sheng-ti, what can have brought this great Gaanelian culture to an end. These roads ... those mighty temples at Chitrakuta ... the city itself! Why, it is a city of millions!"
The aged bonze said quietly. "The jungle is life-in-death, my friend. It is the mother who destroys her young."
"I know, but—"
"Let Man desert his cities for a decade," said Sheng-ti sombrely, "and the jungles will reclaim her own. The hardy grass will shatter these roads, impervious to wheel and boot. The tendril will bruise the rock, the soft shoot bring ruin to walls which withstand the battering-ram. Thus ever Nature reclaims such little space as Man borrows for his brief moment."
Ramey said, "I guess you're right. It doesn't take long either, does it? Even in our young country, the United States, we have ghost-towns. Abandoned cities, now overgrown with weeds, already crumbling into decay." And then, because his soldier instincts always lay closer to the front of his mind than any other, his thoughts returned to the main problem confronting them. "What I can't see is just what we're going to do about Ravana, anyway. If that bodyguard is any sample of his army, he has a tough force to overcome. Giants, every one of them. And Sugriva's 'militia' is nothing but a few, scantily-armed companies of trained apes!"
The Buddhist priest glanced at him searchingly. "I should not dismiss them so lightly, Ramey Winters."
"But that's all they are! Monkeys masquerading as men. Talking baboons, dressed in mens' clothing—"
His companion made a swift, indecipherable gesture. It might have been one of annoyance; it might have held some unknown religious symbolism. His voice was sharp, reproving.
"You know not whereof you speak, child of a younger culture! Hark ye! We of China are old; much lore had we forgotten before your white-skinned forebears built their first hopeful empire. In our ancient annals are tales ... legends of those jungle-bred warriors you call 'ape-men.' And great is the honor our elders paid to them. TheChu-Kingtells of a day when their prowess saved all earth for mankind—"
"Maybe so," said Ramey dubiously, "but they don't look much like fighters to me. Their captain—what's his name?—Kohrisan; a posing little jackanapes if I ever saw one."
"And what is Man himself," asked Sheng-ti, "but an ape bereft of his tail? No, Ramey Winters, you have not read aright the character of Kohrisan. I have talked with him. I know that beneath that hairy breast, beneath those over-gaudy habiliments, there beats a heart as warmly human as mine—or yours. It was a great thing the governor Sugriva did when he created out of the beasts of the jungle these new men."
It was Ramey's turn to stare. This was something he had not known before. A marvel it had not occurred to him to question.
"Created!Sugriva created—?"
"But, yes; did you not know? Sugriva is a wise man. He realized that the difference between man and the lower ape is slight. And he is a brilliant technician in matters pertaining to the brain. Kohrisan and the troops he leads are jungle creatures educated by Sugriva, given human thought and a knowledge of human tongues by thevilyishna.[9]The governor Sugriva's dream brought to fruition ... a proud, new race of intelligent beings hand-forged from Nature's rawest materials. A race of new men."
"New men!" repeated Ramey. "A race of new men!"
"Yes. But, now—" They had rounded a curve in the road; Sheng-ti's voice assumed a note of warning—"Quiet, my son! For we have come to the ferry-port!"
And Ramey saw that the sluggish stream beside which they walked had now widened, disgorging into a gigantic body of water. Its name he knew. It was the Tonlé Sap, the Great Lake of Indo-China. A tremendous expanse of brazen blue, 70 miles long and fifteen wide. And in its center, secure as if surrounded by barrier walls of steel, nestled a mist-veiled island which Ramey knew must be the stronghold of the Martian lord, Ravana. The citadel isle of Lanka.
But scant was the attention he could give this place now. For there was great activity before them. On the shore of the lake, but a few hundred yards distant, were numberless quais and wharves. These landing-docks were aswarm with the warriors of Ravana—and others! Small, frightened Annamese, bewildered little yellow men huddled together in tiny groups—no, not merely huddled! Chained! Chained in long queues, saw Ramey, and being herded into an endless stream of ferries shuttling back and forth across the lake!
He turned to Sheng-ti. "Sugriva was right! Ravanaisenslaving the natives! These men do notwantto be taken to Lanka. They're beingforcedthere!"
"Quiet!" warned Sheng-ti. A frown creased his forehead; he moved as if to draw Ramey back with him into the shadow of overhanging brush. "This ruins our plan, Ramey Winters. We dare go to Lanka as freemen, but not as slaves—"
His warning, his change of heart, came too late. For interrupting him there came a loud cry from one of the Videlian soldiers. "Over there! Two more of them!" And before the pair could move a step, they were surrounded and seized by giant sons of the desert planet.
An Enemy's Life
It mattered little to Ramey Winters that the smallest of the followers of Ravana towered a good head and shoulders above himself. Given a moment's time to prepare for trouble, an opportunity to set himself, he would have gladly matched his wits and strength against that of his captors. If brute power alone were to be considered, neither he nor any Earthman could stand against the giant Videlians. But he had in his belt a Twentieth Century weapon that was, indeed, as the gangsters of Ramey's era had termed it, an "equalizer"....
But he did not draw his automatic. The attack was too sudden and too unexpected ... and by the time he felt hard Videlian hands upon him he did not need the mutely warning glance of Sheng-ti to remind him that this was one time the adage about discretion being the better part of valor well applied.
Meekly he permitted himself to be hauled forward to the quai-side, where waited one apparently captain of those who were shipping the new slaves to Lanka. This one scowled as he eyed the new captives.
"Well," he roared in a voice of thunder, "and how did you two get away?"
It was Sheng-ti who answered, smoothly, calmly, ingratiatingly. "We did not 'get away,' my Lord. We have but just arrived. My friend and I are voyagers from distant Penang, come to seek employment in the establishment of the mighty Lord Ravana, whose fame has reached our ears."
"Employment!" The overseer stared at him blankly for a second. Then his laughter burst in a great guffaw. "You'll find employment, all right! Thalakka—chain these fools with the others!"
The one to whom he spoke, himself an officer of rank to judge by his trappings, said, "Chain them, Seshana?"
"Those were my orders."
"Forgive me, sir, but—do you think that is necessary in this case? These men are not captive slave, being taken to Lanka against their will. They came here of their own volition ... freely offered their services." Then, hastily, as his superior's brow darkened: "I am returning to the island on the next boat myself, sir. If you wish, I shall see that they are transported thither and turned over to whomever judges such cases."
Seshana said mockingly, "I had not dreamed there was such tenderness within your bosom, Captain Thalakka. Be careful your noble sentiments do not someday send you to languish in the dungeons with that chicken-hearted fool, Vibhishana. But—" He shrugged—"I suppose there's no harm in it. Very well, then. Take them away!"
And he went back to his work with lash and cry as the friendly Videlian led Ramey and Sheng-ti to a boat just preparing to pull out from the wharf. A boatswain cried the command, a dozen oars spidered the surface of the blue water, and the great, awkward transport ferry set forth across the lake. Thus, free men still, but under sufferance only, Ramey and his friend embarked for the island fortress of Ravana.
It was on the journey across the lagoon that Ramey realized for the first time just how great was the problem of defeating the lord Ravana.
His island citadel lay a good four miles from the shore. Four miles which, in an era that knew no motorboats, no sea-sleds, must necessarily be laboriously traversed in open skiffs propelled by man-power. Even had Ravana not the ammunition wherewith to charge the Bow of Rudra, his archers would find the occupants of invading craft easy prey. And if he had, by now, charged the Bow—
In any event, invasion seemed a complete impossibility. For even should a score, a hundred boatloads of fighters gain the shores of Lanka, the problem still confronted them of gaining entrance to the fortress itself. And as the boat in which they were passengers drew nearer, Ramey saw the high, gray walls of the citadel, the buttressed stanchions lined with watchful warriors, the mighty gates and ramparts, and he knew that never in this world could the ape-soldiers of Sugriva successfully storm this salient.
The single hope remained that he and Sheng-ti could somehow get back the Bow from Ravana. Then battle might not be necessary. Before the threat of its use, the giant leader would be forced to capitulate.
As Ramey pondered thus, Sheng-ti was skillfully prodding the friendly Videlian captain for information that might be of some value. Admiringly he commented on the greatness of the fort toward which they oared. The Martian was pleased.
"It is the mightiest fortress on this strange planet," he boasted pridefully. "Oh, not so strong, perhaps as some on our lovely Videlia. But strong enough to withstand the attack of any enemyhere. Moreover—" He leaned forward confidentially—"Our lord Ravana has just returned from Chitrakuta with a new and mighty weapon which assures our lasting invulnerability. A magic bow with the power to destroy anything which offends its archer!"
Ramey struggled to mask the eagerness in his eyes, drew an expression of incredulity to his lips.
"Amagicbow?" he repeated. "How—how know you it is magic? Have you seen it shoot?"
"No-o-o," answered the garrulous Videlian reluctantly. "Not as yet. Our Lord has not seen fit to demonstrate its powers yet. There are certain spells he must cast upon it yet, I understand. But we know its power. Our spies have long time told us—"
Ramey heaved an inward sigh of relief. Then so far the Martian overlord had not yet found the time, or the ammunition to feed the Bow's lethal chamber. But his moment of relief passed as the Videlian continued.
"Not only that, but we have won to our cause even the very gods of this planet! Know you who returned this morn to Lanka with the lord Ravana? An Earth goddess!"
"Sheila!" cried Ramey.
But fortunately the Videlian misinterpreted his cry. He smiled serenely. "Ah, then she is a goddess of your race?"
Ramey said slowly, "She is ... of my race ... yes. And where is this goddess now?"
Captain Thalakka smiled slyly. "Where else but in the apartment next to that of Lord Ravana? They say she and our Lord are to be wed. You hear that, Earthmen? That will convince you that we of Videlia are a superior race, will it not? When your very gods mate with our people?"
It was well he expected no answer, and well he was not looking at Ramey as he spoke. For the young airman's eyes were ablaze with anger, his fists had knotted; he looked very little, at this moment, like the humble laborer he pretended to be. But the trip was almost finished, now, and the boat was drawing awkwardly into a slip before the citadel of Lanka. Wharf, dock and landing-place were aswarm with bustling figures. Slaves disgorged from their vessels now being driven to their quarters, oarsmen readying for a return trip to the mainland, warriors watching the excitement with amused interest ... even courtiers looking down from an overhanging balcony on the busy scene below. Captain Thalakka called an order to the boatswain, the craft wheeled slowly, stirred into its slip.
And as it did so, another boat, sliding from an adjacent dock, swung with the stream and began to edge lazily toward their own. In an instant, Ramey saw the danger of collision. He cried, "Look out, there! Hard a-port—!"
His cry came too late. The second craft nudged into them; not violently, but with turgid insistence. The oarsmen were caught off balance; there came thesnap!of splintering wood as oars shattered like matchsticks, a cry of pain as one rower was rammed brutally into the thwarts. Then another cry ... a shrill scream of terror....
Ramey whirled just in time to see Captain Thalakka, who had risen in his place, hurtle out of the boat. Asprawl he hit the water, kicking, flailing frantically.
Ramey's first impulse was to laugh. Captain Thalakka was far from an imposing figurenow. Dripping like a rain-drenched rat, he came up spluttering. And then—
Went down again! With a bubbling cry of fear!
The laughter died on Ramey's lips as, glancing about him swiftly, he saw that not a companion of Thalakka's had moved a muscle to help their brother-at-arms! Instead, their faces were as pallid as that of the struggling man ... and every one of them seemed to shrink from doing anything to help.
It took but a word from Sheng-ti to clarify the situation. The single word, "Drowning! He's drowning, Ramey!"
And suddenly Ramey realized that, incredible as it sounded to an Earthman, this was the absolute truth! Thalakka was a Martian, born of a race whose planet had long been well-nigh waterless, a race whose sluggish canals barely supplied sustenance to the few, hardy plants that sucked their moisture. And the Videlians did not know how to swim! Even in a situation like this, where an Earth child could have paddled his way to safety in the twinkling of an eye, Captain Thalakka's life was in deadly peril!
To think, with Ramey Winters, was to act. It barely mattered that Thalakka was of another race, aye, even of another world. In a flash, the young Earthman was on his feet; then, with a splash, he was diving after the submerged body of the Martian.
His hands, groping for a hold, found Thalakka at the same moment the Videlian's frantic clutch found him. Desperate arms wrapped around his neck, engulfing, swaddling him, choking the breath from his lungs. The Martian's weight was like a leaden anchor, dragging him to the bottom. But there came to Ramey memory of lifesaving drill learned in a college. Instinctively his hands did the proper thing.
Right handso—on Thalakka's left elbow. Left handthus, on the Martian's right wrist. A twist ... a shrug ... and he was behind the Martian, treading water, holding the other man's right arm in a straining hammerlock, gulping in great life-giving draughts of air.
After that, his task was simple. With the Martian's face cupped in his left hand, he kicked out strongly for the boat. Sheng-ti was at the boat-side to grip his burden, lift him over the thwarts. And seconds later, rescued and rescuer were being put safely ashore, ears dinning under the cascading roars of an excited group of on-lookers.
Then it was that Captain Thalakka turned to Winters, held forth his hand in a gesture that meant one thing on any world.
"I thank you, man of Earth," he said gratefully. "I owe my life to you. And Thalakka, Captain of the Torthian Guard, will not forget."
"That's all right, chum," grinned Ramey. "A little swim goes good on a hot day like this. But I'd take a few lessons in the Australian crawl, if I were you."
He reached up to brush his dripping hair from his forehead. And as he did so, on his fingers he saw that which brought a sudden spasm of fear to his heart. For the fingers which had brushed his forehead were—yellow-brown! The dye! The dye with which he had been painted had streaked and run!
Even as the knowledge struck him, came corroboration in a cry from the overhanging balcony above his head. A call in tones that Ramey Winters recognized all too well, the vibrant, bell-like voice of the Lady Rakshasi.
"Warriors! Seize that man! Seize him and guard him well! He is a spy from the camp of our enemy, Sugriva!"
Vibhishana
After that, the tide of events welled almost too fast for Ramey's comprehension, certainly too fast for his peace of mind. Again—as on the opposite shore, but this time grimly, tightly—he found himself imprisoned by the powerful arms of Videlian soldiers. He was aware of tossing a mute, apologetic glance in Sheng-ti's direction, and of seeing the old Buddhist bow his head, hearing thebonzemutter, "It is the Will of Him Who watches. You could not have done otherwise, my son."
Then the Lady Rakshasi herself, a great, golden panther with eyes glinting triumphantly, was before him.
"We meet again—so soon, my Lord Ramaíya?" she asked mockingly. Then to the soldiers, "Take him to my brother!"
Ravana sat in his council hall, imperiously enthroned on a dais ornamented, Ramey could not help but think dazedly, with all the wealth of the Indies. The Gaanelian lord Sugriva held court in a chamber rich and luxurious, too, but never had its pomp and circumstance compared with such ostentation as this. The richness of Sugriva's throne-room was that of painstaking artistry, hand-wrought by craftsmen whose hearts were in their work, whose hands loved the tools with which they labored. But Ravana's throne-room was one vast blaze of opulence! Rarest gems from the far-flung corners of the globe ... tapestries that seem to flow with restless life ... teakwood and burnished ebony ... sandalwood, mother-of-pearl encrusted ... ivory from tushes so huge one could scarcely conceive the size of the beast which had borne them.
No single man, Ramey Winters knew with swift positiveness, could have gathered together such a display save at the cost of other men's blood! Each gem that lent its hue to the array seemed to cry a horrid tale of death and sorrow; even the fragrance of rare scents wafting through the room seemed coarsened by an underlying reek of blood and death. Thus the great hall in which the Lord Ravana held court.
The Videlian overlord was toying with an oddly shaped instrument as the captives were brought into his presence. A metal arch about three feet long, supported by a cross-brace upon which was mounted a sealed cylinder, also of metal. He laid this aside as Ramey and Sheng-ti were prodded before him, but not so swiftly that Ramey could not recognize it. It was the Bow—the Bow of Rudra! And—Ramey's spirits lifted—the very fact that Ravana toyed with it, studying it curiously, was evidence that so far it had not been charged.
For a fleeting instant the Videlian's eyes shadowed with fear as he identified the pair thrust before him. Then his eyes lighted with an expression of unpleasant amusement.
He said mockingly, "And what have we here? It is a swill-drenched alley-cat—No! By my faith, 'tis a man-god! The one who called himself the Lord Ramaíya!" He touched his forehead in a sign of taunting obeisance. "Welcome, my Lord! We had not expected to greet thee so soon in our humble palace."
Poker, thought Ramey suddenly. The good old Yankee game of bluff. There was a bare possibility—
He took a step forward, his head proud, eyes coldly judicial.
"We have come, Lord Ravana," he declared boldly, "to reclaim our Bow. Now I offer you a last and fair opportunity. Return it and the goddess Sheilacita, and we will leave without exacting vengeance for your impiety."
It was a sandy ... a four-flush sandy with the wrong colored card in the hole ... but italmostworked. The overlord of Lanka stopped smiling; his eyes darted troubledly toward his sister. But the Lady Rakshasi merely laughed, her voice a golden throbbing in the golden room.
"If my Lord Ramaíya be indeed a god," she challenged, "let him prove his omnipotence! Let the Bow return itself to his hand of its accord. Nay, brother. Methinks there be little godlike in this paint-smeared, skulking spy, nor even in his cringing goddess love."
She almost spat the last words. Hearing the spiteful note in her voice, Ramey realized that hell, indeed, has no fury like a woman scorned. The Lady Rakshasi was exacting her vengeance, now, for the moment of ignominy she had experienced when Ramey had rejected her caresses for the gentler love of Sheila Aiken. But he said nothing. There was nothing to say. Ravana, his confidence restored, leaned forward arrogantly.
"And how came these would-be gods hither?"
It was Captain Thalakka who answered. Plainly he did not understand a tithe of what was going on. He said, "They approached our ferry-port on the mainland shore, my Lord, and said they were wayfarers from distant Penang, come to seek employment in thy service. The—" He nodded toward Ramey uncertainly—"the white-skinned one saved thy servant's life."
"So?" Ravana chuckled. It was not a pleasant sound to hear. "We wonder if he can so easily save his own? Well, Earthman—have you anything to say?"
"One thing," said Ramey. "Have a care, Lord Ravana, lest your lust for power destroy you. The Lord Sugriva knows your plans, and he will not stand idly by to watch their accomplishment."
"Thinks he not? And how, pray, does he plan to stay them? You forget, Lord Ramaíya, that I have now the Weapon. The Bow of Rudra, which burns and destroys."
"You hold its empty shell," stated Ramey assuredly. "The gods alone can waken it to power."
"Then," chuckled Ravana, "must I be one of the gods. For already my captains are gathering the ammunition to feed its chamber. Within the space of days, the Bow will carry a full belly. And when that moment comes—then let the Gaanelian weakling, Sugriva, approach Lanka—if he dares!" Ravana nodded to Captain Thalakka. "Very well, Captain. Take these swine away—"