Cosmos of the Crystal Prism

Author: Kirk Straughen

Synopsis: Jason Argos is plunged into an alien cosmos the likes of which no Earthman has ever seen before. Forced to undertake a strange mission for an enigmatic entity, he encounters weird beings and manifold dangers. Will he survive to return to the planet of his birth, or will he be forever a prisoner in a strange reality with dire threats at every turn?

Chapter 1: The Thing in the Garden

It was an early summer’s morning. Jason Argos was about to step into the courtyard garden of his small townhouse. His goal was to plant some Damask roses before the full heat of the cloudless day manifested.

The young man, tall and muscular of build, worked at the local nursery, a job he found satisfying thanks to an interest in plants and landscaping. His skin, browned by the sun, was as dark as his hair. His hazel eyes were set in a square jawed face that was rugged but not to the point of being displeasing.

His usually pleasant disposition was not as yet fully restored. Amelia, his longtime partner had, six months ago, ended their relationship in preference for a female lover. The revelation had left him quite shocked and downcast, but he had accepted her decision with as much good grace as he could muster, and so they had parted on reasonably friendly terms.

Argos had largely recovered from the experience, thanks to the therapeutic nature of gardening. The young man unlocked and opened the back door of his modest abode, eager to commence a creative and positive activity that would further his recovery. He stepped out onto a diminutive patio before which was the modest patch of grass that comprised the garden’s lawn, and froze in disbelief at a totally unexpected sight.

A strange object, completely incongruous, rested in the middle of the yard. The weird construction was a prism of silver rods that stood vertically on a triangular base five feet to a side. It was supported by tripod legs that projected from each corner of the base and terminated in small globes. The three sides of the prism were open. The base of the structure was solid – a milky glass-like panel had been inserted between the triangle of silver rods. The top of the prism was similarly covered. Within the object was a cube that appeared to have been carved from a giant emerald. It was the size of an orange and was supported by a silver rod that rose from the middle of the milky base to chest height.

Argos swore softly in disbelief. How the prism had gotten there he couldn’t even begin to imagine. It was at least ten feet tall and would have had to have been craned in. His townhouse abutted those of his neighbors. It lacked a side passage of sufficient width through which the object could have been carried. The young man looked around. He was alone in the early morning quiet. Those responsible had long gone.

Again he focused his attention on the prism. What was it? Who had put it there and why? Was this an elaborate practical joke? These were a few of the unanswerable questions that swirled through his mind as he approached the mysterious object. He circled it once, slowly scrutinizing it, still unable to make sense of anything. The emerald crystal drew his eye. Argos looked at the prism’s base. The milky crystalline sheet seemed to be about an inch thick and appeared to penetrate the substantial sliver rods that formed the frame of the object’s floor. It looked like it could safely hold his weight.

Gingerly, he stepped within the prism. No mishap occurred and so with confidence and high curiosity he moved towards the emerald cube. It appeared to be resting on a square silver plate affixed to the supporting rod. Thinking the object detachable, he grasped the cube intending to lift it up for better inspection, believing it most likely glass rather than an actual gemstone.

A tingling sensation passed through his fingers the moment they touched the cube; then spread throughout his body with utter swiftness. Surprised, Argos tried to snatch his hands away, but found he was utterly unable. Surprise rapidly became alarm. He couldn’t move a muscle, couldn’t even cry for help. He was completely held in weird paralysis, utterly helpless. The cube had been a lure, the prism a snare!

The cube began to glow. A pulsing vibration ran through the structure he stood within. A shimmering sheet of radiance formed between the open sides of the prism, sealing him within walls of pearly light and heightening his panic. The world outside began to fade away into glowing swirling mist. Then there was a sensation of movement, as if he was falling into a limitless abyss.

Terror like he’d never experienced before crashed down upon him. Argos uttered a silent shriek of mindless fear. Merciful unconsciousness smothered his overloaded brain.

**********

Argos regained consciousness. He was lying on the floor of the prism, the machine now quiescent. The strange paralysis had left him, and a dazed state had replaced his wild terror. He didn’t immediately rise, for his mind was still askew from the bizarre events that had so mysteriously and inexplicably come upon him.

Slowly, his thoughts ordered themselves into a semblance of normality. He rose to an elbow and looked apprehensively about. Fear again seized him. Gone was the familiar courtyard garden of his home. Argos was immersed in a strange wilderness of outlandish vegetation. Weird trees rose to dizzy heights all around him. Their large leaves resembled those of a banana plant but were crinkled and possessed a dark crimson metallic sheen. The trunks were textured like a pine-cone and were mottled in various shades of yellow. They were like nothing he’d ever seen or heard of.

Argos closed his eyes and took several deep calming breaths. The sight was shocking, unnerving in its unexpectedness and weirdness. He didn’t know what to think. Gradually, he regained his composure and opened his eyes. The unnatural scene was still there in all its inexplicable mysteriousness.

Carefully, he got to his feet. His sense of balance was still slightly disturbed, and he had to tightly grasp one of the prism’s vertical rods to steady himself. The wave of dizziness soon passed, and he turned in a circle, taking in the strange environment. Argos could no longer doubt the reality of what he saw. The prism was not just a strange sculptural object. It was a machine, a weird conveyance that had transported him to an alien location.

Was this another planet? As outlandish as the possibility seemed it was the most likely explanation. Argos knew enough about botany to know that the trees before him were found nowhere on Earth. In addition, the light was strange. He couldn’t see the sky due to the dense forest canopy, but the few rays that penetrated had an unearthly nacreous quality to their luminescence.

As he continued to turn clockwise, he saw that the forest thinned out in the direction he now faced, and it seemed to him as if the land fell away precipitously in that location. Argos stepped from the machine. He was utterly alone. Whatever intelligence had brought him here appeared to have abandoned him. He decided to take the initiative and look for it. It was after all his only chance of getting home and he felt he had to risk an encounter, dangerous though it might be.

Argos walked towards what he thought was the declivity, perhaps the edge of a cliff. If he was up high it would give him a good view of the surrounding landscape and possibly the sight of a metropolis, for the beings who had constructed the machine would no doubt build cities also.

Shortly, he gained the edge and looked down. Argos stood staring in complete disbelief. He stood on the edge of a cliff as he had suspected. What he hadn’t suspected was the completely alien nature of the view the declivity would reveal.

Below him was a shallow sea, perhaps only ten feet in depth. The ocean floor wasn’t opaque bedrock; it was as transparent as the finest crystal, several yards in thickness, and disclosed all that lay beyond with utter clarity.

Beneath the ocean floor, separated from it by a stupendous gulf of space, lay a restless swirling vapor that glowed with unearthly nacreous light, the finer details of which were blurred by illimitable distance. Slowly, Argos raised his disbelieving eyes towards the heavens and sensed that the strange ethereal mist curved in all directions. He was in a stupendous hollow sphere of weirdly glowing cloud. Argos staggered back in utter shock and leaned heavily against a tree, clutching it fiercely to reassure himself of its reality. For a moment he feared he was insane, that what he was experiencing were the hallucinations of a deranged mind.

His panic gradually passed, and he braved himself to again gaze upon the disturbing scene of utter strangeness. Looking carefully, he traced the extent of the shallow sea, and discerned that the crystal floor beneath it was veined in the manner of a leaf, with the veins being of a silvery appearance. The ocean floor, like that of the titanic sphere of glowing vapor, curved in all directions, and he soon realized that he was within a smaller globe, perhaps twenty miles in diameter, that floated inside the gigantic sphere of luminous cloud.

Argos also saw that the globe in which he stood wasn’t singular. In the far distance he discerned other similar spheres of various sizes, and saw that on their inner surfaces they bore oceans and islands, all smothered in vegetation whose forms and hues displayed such astounding diversity that it made his senses reel. By now Argos realized that in addition to not being on Earth, he wasn’t even in the universe he was familiar with. The strange machine had transported him to an utterly alien cosmos.

Shock upon shock assailed him like the blows of a heavyweight champion, but he managed to withstand the psychological battering. Calmness again returned and Argos was able to consider his situation. Whoever or whatever had brought him here was connected to the machine, and might be even more alien than the weird environment. Should he return to the prism? Did he really have a choice?

As he considered his limited options, a compulsion began to come upon him - an urge to return to the strange prism that had brought him here. It grew stronger, irresistible. Argos began to panic as the clearly external force took control. He began to retrace his steps, albeit with considerable trepidation, for it was as if his body was a marionette being controlled by an invisible puppet master.

Soon, Argos stood again before the strange machine. The emerald cube was pulsing with fantastical light. It drew his eye against his will. The sweat of terror was upon him. The uncanny radiance expanded. It filled his vision, penetrated his brain. A dispassionate inhuman voice spoke within his mind.

“I am Entity,” it began. “I charged this mechanism with my telekinetic powers, and I am still very weak from the effort. I have brought you here for a purpose. Shortly, you will be seized by enemies. In their abode is an object you must bring to me.”

An image flashed into Argos’ mind; seared its form upon his memory.

“This communication has exhausted me further,” weakly continued the disembodied voice that called itself Entity. “I must rest; fully recover from the stupendous exertion of bringing you across the dimensions to my universe. We will speak again.”

“Wait,” cried Argos, desperately. “I have questions, many of them.”

But the mysterious presence had vanished. The emerald cube lay quiescent. The entire machine began to swiftly disintegrate to dust before the stunned man. The dust sublimed to a white vapor that quickly dissipated leaving nothing behind. The prism was utterly gone. Argos was alone, and only now did he realize that the voice had spoken to him in an unknown language, and yet he had fully understood it.

The snap of a trodden twig sounded. The noise, startlingly loud in the silence, broke through his chaotic jumble of thoughts and speculations. Argos quickly turned and gasped as a group of beings stepped forth from concealing vegetation. He was not as alone as he had surmised.

Earthman and humanoids regarded each other in mutual astonishment. The three beings had skin as white as the finest marble. Their hair was tightly curled in the manner of Africans, but metallic gold in color; large eyes, as blue as sapphires, looked upon Argos in staring amazement. Their features, like their bodies, were of a delicate appearance. Prominent bare breasts whose areolas were rose in color like their lips, suggested they were female. But their humanity was belied by cat-like ears and the thick hairless tail each possessed.

Their tails hung to just below the knee, the tips of which were very phallic-like in appearance, but hidden from the Earthman’s view by a tasseled sheath whose drawstring held it secure. Later, Argos was to learn that each being was normally both male and female, with the ‘tail’ analogous to a penis (the sperm production organ being internal and situated six inches below the tail’s tip). The beings also possessed a vagina not too dissimilar to an Earthwoman’s. Even after this startling revelation Argos always thought of them as female, because with their broad hips and prominent breasts and delicate features they resembled women more than men.*

The beings were clad in brief black loincloths with a large pocket at the front. Their clothes were decorated with red tassels and herringbone patterns, and they wore filigree jewellery of amazing intricacy and abundance. Each alien was equipped with a lengthy wooden rod whose end terminated in a baseball size silver globe from which something like a tuning fork projected in the manner of a spearhead.

Argos remembered the words of Entity – that he was soon to be captured by enemies. The Earthman cursed himself for a fool. He should have fled the area the moment the voice had advised him of impending capture.

As Argos apprehensively debated his chances of escape, one of the beings spoke to the others in an incomprehensible language whose phonetic qualities reminded him of Italian. It was the language of the nation of Radshur, the same tongue Entity had used, but now he could no longer understand it. Argos tensed as the trio cautiously approached, their rods thrust forward aggressively in the manner of spears.

“I am unarmed,” he said as he forced himself to relax, realizing that it was far too late to flee. His only hope was to be passive. Although they wouldn’t understand English his placid tone and posture would hopefully convey non-hostility, thus preventing violence.

The beings stopped at the sound of his voice and again spoke animatedly among themselves, but without taking their eyes off him. They were wary, but so far not hostile, and in the absence of actual attack Argos relaxed further.

In moments he was surrounded by the trio who uninhibitedly felt his clothes and person without regard for any probity. Obviously, they were puzzled by what to them was his alien appearance. One felt his buttocks, clearly looking for a tail. The being, not finding one, said something to the others, and if the humanoid’s expression and tone was anything to go by it wasn’t complimentary.

In an instant Argos sensed a dangerous change in the manner of his examiners. Before, their attitude was one of wary curiosity. But now it had quickly transformed to outright contemptuous and hostile derision. The Earthman knew he was in serious trouble, but unsure of exactly why.

One of the three attempted to prod him with the spear-like weapon. Argos leaped aside. The time for passivity had ended. He grabbed the being’s arm, swiftly pivoted, and flung the humanoid into another. Both fell in a tangle. The Earthman bolted for freedom. In an instant the trio was in pursuit, screeching like enraged falcons as they chased him through the clinging underbrush.

Perhaps Argos would have made good his wild escape. But on this occasion fortune didn’t favor him – his foot caught on a root. Down he went. The heavy fall drove the breath from his lungs. His foes caught up with him. A weapon was thrust against his back. There was a flash of light, an explosion of intense pain. Argos screamed, blacked out. He lay unconscious, completely helpless before his fiercely glaring foes.

* Endnote: For the sake of my readers I will continue to use the female pronouns associated with gender, even though they do not exactly correspond to Argos’ captors. For those interested the Radshuran hermaphrodite pronouns are as follows: Suara (he/she), suatu (her/hers/his/him), suanu (herself/himself).

Chapter 2: City of the Spires

The Earthman regained his senses and discovered he had been stripped of all clothing and that his hands had been bound securely behind his back. No doubt his captors had taken the opportunity to examine him further whilst he’d been unconscious. The knowledge left him feeling enraged and violated. He glared impotently at the trio who returned his furious stare with haughty and disdainful indifference.

Argos was roughly hauled to his feet and was surprised by the strength in the limbs of his slim captors. He was manhandled into the jungle and then down a trail that led deeper into the strange forest. The enforced journey lasted about fifteen minutes during which he made several attempts to communicate with the beings. But their only response to his efforts was contemptuous silence. He was on the verge of making a final try when they entered a small glade. The astounding sight before him put an end to his endeavor.

Another machine, quite different to the prism, floated in the clearing. It was an oval of burnished coppery metal. The machine was flat on its upper surface and slightly convex on the lower, which was studded with faceted crimson hemispheres. These were crystalline in appearance and about a foot in diameter. A white waist high railing of porcelain-like material encircled the circumference of the mechanism. A gate and retractable ramp gave access to the craft’s deck. Six of the railing’s posts rose to a height of seven feet and supported a convex transparent roof the same size and shape of the vessel’s keel.

The strange craft measured about 25 feet in length, ten across amidships and three at its thickest central point from where the keel curved up to bow and stern. As Argos was marched towards the machine he detected the faint hum of its propulsive mechanism, which grew louder as he was shoved up the ramp and onto the vessel’s deck. The gate automatically closed; the ramp retracted into the body of the ship. A shimmering sheet of faint radiance appeared around the circumference of the machine, rising from the deck to touch the edge of the convex roof.

Argos looked curiously around as the machine rose swiftly and smoothly above the trees. There was no sign of anything that looked like the conventional controls of a ship or aircraft. The only device that he could see was a small crystal sphere located near the bow. It was supported by four thin evenly spaced rods attached to a band of silvery metal around its circumference. One of the beings stood before it, both hands pressed to either side of the chest high mechanism. Was this how the craft was operated? Was it by telepathy, or some similar paranormal force? In this bizarre universe anything might be possible.

The Earthman’s thoughts shifted to his predicament. Entity knew he would be captured. His situation was no accident. It was part of the creature’s plan to use him for its ends. Argos muttered an oath. He detested being used and it rankled even more to know he had no choice but to cooperate. But if Entity had the power to bring him to this world, then it had the power to return him to Earth. Of course, there was no guarantee that it would do so, but if he did its bidding there was at least a chance it might reward him for his service.

The strange machine flew swiftly, and by now had travelled a considerable distance from its landing site, following the inner curve of the hollow globe. Below, the strange crimson jungle flashed beneath their racing keel. Argos looked down through the wall of radiance that enclosed the vessel, hermetically shielding its occupants from the wind of its rapid passage. He saw that they were speeding towards a large aperture in the surface of the globe’s single landmass.

Argos estimated that the portal was at least 100 yards in diameter. He saw a shimmer across the opening that reminded him of heat haze, and correctly surmised a curtain of unknown force lay across it. The strange craft plunged towards the aperture, pierced its shimmering veil. The Earthman had unconsciously tensed for impact, but no mishap occurred. The ship penetrated smoothly and swept out into the void of the titanic hollow sphere of glowing cloud.

Almost instantly Argos felt weightlessness come upon him. The ship accelerated as a force from the globe’s outer surface gave the vessel a repulsive kick. Unprepared, the Earthman lost his balance, and in the weightless environment tumbled head over heels in a most undignified manner. His captors, who had grasped the railing’s handholds beforehand, were much amused by Argos’ embarrassing predicament as he spun through the air towards the ship’s stern.

With his hands securely bound behind his back Argos was helpless, unable to grasp anything to stop his mad tumble. He collided heavily with the force screen that enclosed the deck. Sparks snapped angrily. Argos screamed in agony. His convulsing muscles flung him violently away from the energy barrier. He hit the deck, bounced off and slammed against one of his captors. The being was hurled against the enclosing curtain of force. The humanoid shrilly screamed, limbs jerking uncontrollably.

The being’s companions yelled in consternation as their stricken comrade floated limply in the air. They quickly came to their companion’s aid as Argos, barely conscious, drifted clear. The worried beings grasped their injured shipmate and laid the victim gently on the deck. One of the Earthman’s captors glared briefly at him, then turned to assist with the ministrations to their stricken comrade.

Slowly, Argos recovered from his tumultuous ordeal. His striking the being had been entirely accidental, but from the furious glares his captors shot at him like bullets, the worried Earthman doubted they saw it that way. The victim still lay unconscious on the deck, alive but obviously seriously wounded. By contrast, the worst of the Earthman’s injuries were several bad bruises, and Argos correctly guessed that his human body was more robust than his captors’ physiques.

What fate was awaiting him Argos didn’t know, didn’t want to know. To distract his mind from many horrid possibilities he turned his head and gazed out into the void, taking in its multitude of strange worlds. About two hours passed. A dot appeared in the remote distance. It slowly grew bigger. The ship was now approaching another globe, one much larger than the sphere where Argos had been captured. The strange vessel circled the Earth size sphere, which its people called Xyur, and the Earthman began to feel the repulsive push of its outer surface.

The ship slowed considerably as it fought to make headway. The hum of its mechanisms increased in pitch as it struggled towards the sphere’s aperture. Then they were through the portal’s shimmering veil and speeding towards a strange city several miles from the globe’s entrance.

The buildings of the alien metropolis were situated on towering ebony hoodoos - tall rocky spires formed by erosion. The mighty columns, over a thousand in number, rose up more than 500 feet from a lush jungle of riotous metallic purple growth variegated in cream and azure. As the distance closed Argos saw that the architecture of the city was fabulously baroque. The buildings, octagonal in plan and beehive in form, had all been carved in clusters from the living rock of the hoodoos. Not a square foot was unadorned by some form of fantastic ornament.

Animals, plants and humanoids, as well as outlandish chimeric combinations dominated in a profusion of ornamental styles that astounded the eye with their uninhibited diversity. To this was also added a rainbow palette in every conceivable hue, for the amazing carvings had been enamelled in dazzling jewel bright colors. Balconies, wide verandas, colonnades with caryatid pillars, circular windows, spires and buttresses all added their unique combination to the plethora of astonishing architectural forms.

Shortly, they were above the city and as Argos looked curiously down, he saw that each hoodoo was linked to the other by a web of soaring suspension bridges thronged with the city’s bustling populace. Lighter than air machines resembling ornate zeppelins were also present, conveying passengers to more distant parts of the metropolis and further on to other strange and exotic nations. The ship flew on for about ten minutes, its goal the tallest of the rocky spires that was crowned by a massive beehive building distinguished by its gilded carvings and the magnitude of its impressive scale.

The ship swept down and settled on the flat roof of a projecting turret. Argos was hustled from the vessel by one being while the still unconscious humanoid was carried by the other. They were challenged by the rooftop guards before descending via a stairway to the building’s impressive interior. The stairwell connected with a colonnaded hallway decorated with amazing frescoes, also heavily guarded, and down this passage they quickly marched, their feet treading on wondrous mosaics of arabesque form.

The passage terminated in a spacious room whose large circular stained glass windows flooded the magnificent chamber with prismatic light. At the far end of the room was a group of figures gathered around a huge desk strewn with administrative documents in the form of scrolls. The richly dressed beings turned at the sound of Argos and his captors’ approach.

One of the humanoids, denoted by an abundance of filigree jewellery of pure gold and glittering gems, gasped in shock at the sight of the injured being. With a wailing cry Umara, the kepae (ruler) of Radshur, rushed to the side of Dejanna, ‘her’ injured offspring, who had been hunting for sport with other noble friends. ‘She’ touched the youth’s face, ‘her’ own countenance stricken with fear. ‘She’ questioned Dejanna’s companions, ‘her’ voice unsteady with tumultuous emotion.

Explanations given the kepae turned on Argos, ‘her’ face wild with unbridled fury. ‘She’ struck the Earthman a savage blow that felled him like a poleaxed ox. A sandalled foot slammed against his ribs, making him gasp in agony. The kepae stood over him, ‘her’ face an ugly thing of inarticulate rage. Argos thought he was going to die. Fear of the end came upon him with all its terror, but Umara managed to hold back the full extent of ‘her’ wild anger.

‘She’ barked commands at ‘her’ guards. Four warriors ran forward and Argos, limp with pain, was swiftly and brutally dragged from the chamber and back the way his captors had brought him. Shortly, he was again aboard the flying machine. The Earthman was dumped on the deck. The craft swiftly rose from the tower and soared towards a substantial open air semicircular building situated in an extensive terraced parkland that adjoined the massive palace.

What was going to happen to him he couldn’t begin to imagine. However, from the fury of the ‘woman’ who had struck him it was clear it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Could he escape, and if he did where would he go? Argos remembered Entity. It had brought him here for a purpose. It would want him to succeed and might aid him. He clutched this buoyant hope with all the fervor of a drowning man.

The Earthman’s troubled thoughts were interrupted by the landing of the machine before the semicircular building, which was no less richly ornamented than the others. He was hauled upright. Prisoner and guards disembarked and entered the structure by an imposing portal in the middle of its curving side. As Argos looked around, he saw the gilded interior was tiered with benches in the manner of a stadium, and could probably seat at least 100 thousand people.

He was dragged through a wide corridor with side stairways leading to the various tiers of seats, and then onwards towards a huge podium on which rested a massive idol positioned in the middle of the structure’s flat wall. The thing knelt Japanese style on a platform accessed by stairs on either side. Its scaled body, carved from a jade-like material, was identical to that of his captors. But the two beaked heads that sprouted from its shoulders roughly resembled an eagle’s naked skull. Eerie green tongues of flame leaped from a square pit that gaped in front of its knees.

As Argos was forced towards the strange statue, he saw the bracelet carved upon its wrist and the egg size rose cut gemstone set in it. The mineral resembled amber, but was a true stone with golden striations rather than being resinous in nature. Instantly, he recognized the jewel. It was the exact image of the object Entity had seared upon his mind – the very thing he’d been sent to misappropriate.

The stunned Earthman was hustled up the platform’s left-hand stairs. He saw the idol was separated from the thick wall and that behind it, hidden by its bulk, was an open doorway. His callous captors dragged him through it and down a gloomy spiraling flight of steps. At the foot of the deep stairwell was a heavy grill-work door. The beings unlocked it, and the helpless Earthman was flung into the dingy prison. The door was slammed behind him, securely locked. The warriors departed, leaving Argos to an undoubtedly evil fate.

Chapter 3: The Temple of Amanu

Argos struggled to his knees. His hands were still bound behind his back. He hadn’t been able to save himself from the nasty fall, which had added to his bruises. The worried Earthman looked around the grimy cell, dimly illuminated by a dully glowing quartz-like crystal cemented into a nearby wall. Argos froze. A pair of gleaming eyes stared at him from a densely shadowed corner of the room.

Something stood. Argos tensed, scrambled to his feet, not knowing what manner of strange creature was imprisoned with him. Was it some slavering beast that hungered for his flesh? The thing moved into the gloomy light. The Earthman’s tension eased somewhat. His fellow prisoner was a humanoid not much different to his captors.

The ‘woman’ moved towards him warily, then with greater confidence when ‘she’ saw his hands were bound securely behind his back. ‘She’ circled him, ‘her’ curiosity evident. Argos kept placidly still, not wanting to alarm his fellow prisoner, for immediately he saw a potential ally.

The humanoid stopped when ‘she’ saw his tailless condition. ‘Her” eyes widened in surprise. Emboldened by Argos’ passivity ‘she’ bent and began a rather detailed examination, which the Earthman was able to stoically endure, for ‘her’ exploration of his anatomy was of a medical rather than sexual nature.

‘Her’ examination concluded, ‘she’ moved to face him, ‘her’ brow furrowed in deep bewilderment. Clearly, ‘she’ didn’t know what to make of him – a mysterious alien in ‘her’ eyes. The ‘woman’ said something to him in ‘her’ incomprehensible Radshuran tongue, her tone interrogative.

“I’m sorry.” Replied Argos. “I have no idea what you’re saying.”

Again the ‘woman’ frowned. ‘She’ thought for a moment, then came to a decision. ‘She’ turned around, showing him her buttocks, bent over, and spread her cheeks. Unsurprisingly, Argos was considerably taken aback by this unexpected and outlandish pose, which gave him an unrestricted view of her anatomy.

Although shocked the Earthman wasn’t so stunned that he failed to notice she lacked a tail. There was no sign of a scar to indicate the organ had been amputated due to accident or disease. Argos correctly deduced its absence was due to a type of congenital malformation – something analogous to phocomelia in humans where a person is born with missing or deformed limbs.

The ‘woman’ straightened and turned around to stare at Argos, ‘her’ eyes searching his face worriedly as if looking for something. Disapproval, disgust perhaps? The Earthman returned ‘her’ gaze with a placid expression as he wondered what the hell he’d just witnessed was all about. As Argos speculated, he saw the tension ease from his fellow prisoner’s visage and body. Again, ‘she’ spoke to him, and again he told ‘her’ he didn’t understand.

The ‘woman’ muttered something in evident frustration as ‘she’ stepped forward and pressed ‘her’ palm firmly to his forehead. The move took the Earthman completely by surprise. At the instant of ‘her’ touch Argos felt a strange indescribable sensation. Then all strength suddenly departed his limbs and he collapsed into ‘her’ arms, his mind in a trance-like state.

In his twilight world he heard a voice, muted as if it was speaking to him from far away. It was the voice of the ‘woman.’ ‘Her’ words were incomprehensible, but soothing and he sunk deeper into the strange trance. Time lost all meaning. There was only the endless flow of alien words. Slowly, gradually, meaning emerged, like objects coming out of an obscuring fog.

Argos was unaware of how long the process continued, but at last the flow of words ceased and perception of the external world returned to him as he slowly drifted up from warm darkness and into the light. He opened his eyes and saw the ‘woman’ sitting next to him. ‘She’ looked tired, but ‘her’ expression was one of satisfaction at having successfully accomplished a difficult task.

“I am Feasola,” ‘she’ said. “To you I have imparted knowledge of Radshuran, my language. Can you comprehend me?”

For a moment Argos stared at ‘her’ in open mouthed shock, for he had understood every word as if it had been spoken with utter fluency in his native tongue.

“Dear God,” he gasped in amazement as he automatically replied in ‘her’ language. “I can. But how?”

“There is no time for explanations now,” ‘she’ replied as ‘she’ began to untie him. “We are in deadly danger. Very soon, they will come to drag us to the idol of Amanu where we will be sacrificed. I don’t know what you are, but from your mind you seem intelligent enough to see we must cooperate to escape this foul fate.”

“Sacrificed?” gasped Argos in utter horror.

“Quiet,” hissed Feasola, ‘her’ feline ears twitching in the manner of a cat. “I hear the guards’ approach. I have freed you of your bonds, having slipped my own some time ago. We must sit quietly and pretend nothing is amiss. When the door is opened, we must attack our foes with all the might we have. It is a desperate plan, but our only hope for life.”

Argos felt he was clutching at shadows, but readily agreed as he could think of no viable alternative. Both sat side by side, heads bowed in false dejection as if all resistance had given way to debilitating fatalism. The footsteps drew nearer, closer. A key grated in its lock. The door swung wide, and four guards stepped within the cell.

The two prisoners exploded into a wild whirlwind of desperate violence. Argos leaped at one guard, his fists swinging furiously. Feasola simultaneously attacked another with unrestrained brutality. Both warriors fell beneath the terrific onslaught. The remaining guards cursed, thrust their spear-like weapons.

Feasola dodged one attacker. ‘She’ slammed a foot against the warrior’s shin, sending ‘her’ opponent crashing to the floor. Argos wasn’t so lucky. The flashing weapon grazed his side as he madly twisted to avoid it. The shock struck him like a hammer and knocked him to the floor.

The two guards felled at the beginning of the fray had swiftly recovered and were on their feet. Both leaped upon Feasola like wild lions. Argos struggled to come to his companion’s aid. But it was hopeless. Although the shock hadn’t rendered him insensible, it had been enough to leave him weak and ineffectual.

In moments the fight was over. Two guards had Feasola in their grip whilst the others laid hard holds on Argos. Both prisoners were dragged from the cell, Feasola, struggling mightily and the Earthman putting up what fight he could as both were hauled up the stairs.

As they were manhandled out of the stairwell’s doorway and to the Idol’s front the Earthman saw the temple was packed to capacity. Considerable time had passed since his incarceration, unnoticed due to the trance-like state he’d been in whilst Feasola was imparting ‘her’ language to him.

He saw Umara. The kepae of Radshur stood before the gaping pit. Writhing tongues of green fire cast their sinister glow upon ‘her’ gloating face. Argos shivered at the sight. By ‘her’ side was another ‘woman’ whose long black loincloth was embroidered with a single green flame. This emblem marked ‘her’ as sarad, ultimate personage of the theocratic hierarchy.

To their right was a group of musicians with strange instruments, whose appearance was a weird blend of kettle drum and harp. They began to play, the bizarre metallic harmonics of the music jarring the frantic Earthman’s ears.

Argos was forced to the fiery edge of the sinister pit as the spectators began a low eerie chant. The green flames hissed venomously. They seemed to reach for the sweating man like living things. With horrified fascination he gazed into the heart of the inferno. The pit was lined with a protective dull gray alloy. From its center rose a pedestal of similar metal, and resting on the stand was a small, faceted sphere of gemmy blackness from which the green conflagration furiously erupted.

Enyid, sarad of Amanu addressed the idol of ‘her’ God.

“Oh, mighty Amanu, ‘she’ began, ‘her’ shrill voice rising above the chorus of the crowd. “Accept these sacrifices we offer up to you. Show us your divine power. Destroy the witch Feasola. See how ‘her’ tailless condition condemns ‘her’, just as the lack thereof condemns this strange creature we have captured. See how it marks both for the evil spawn of black Nagash. May your divine justice purge Togu of their malevolent presence.”

“Fools,” cried Feasola defiantly. “My powers of the mind are not evil. The only evil here is your ignorance and barbarity, you witless slaves of degrading superstition.”

In high fury Enyid leaped at Feasola and struck the ‘woman’ brutally across the face.

“Blasphemy,” shrilly screeched the outraged sarad. Then, turning to the guards that tightly held the struggling Earthman: “Cast that thing into the fiery pit,” ‘she’ cried, pointing at him. “I want the debased witch to witness its demise, to hear its screams of torment so ‘she’ has full awareness of the agonies to come.”

The desperate Earthman struggled mightily to free himself as he was forced towards the leaping flames. Captive and captors staggered one way, then another. Adrenalin charged muscles swelled. Argos jerked one opponent with every atom of his brawn. The warrior stumbled. Argos viciously kicked the guard. The ‘woman’ toppled within the pit. ‘She’ screamed in utter agony, ‘her’ body wreathed in biting fire as it plunged below. Pandemonium erupted from the crowd. Umara shrieked commands. More temple guards raced up the stairs. The musicians fled as the Earthman wrestled furiously with his remaining adversary.

By now he was perilously close to the gaping blazing pit, the racing reinforcements but yards away. He threw a wild punch at his foe. The guard ducked, grabbed him about the waist, lifted. Argos hammered ‘her’ skull with his fist. ‘She’ dropped him, and he stumbled back. For a moment the Earthman teetered on the edge, arms windmilling in a desperate bid to regain his balance.

The guard he’d hit lashed out. A foot thudded into Argos’ chest. The Earthman screamed in pain and terror as he tumbled within the leaping flames. Feasola echoed his frightened horrified cry as he vanished from ‘her’ sight.

Chapter 4: Escape

Argos fell. He struck the bottom of the flame filled pit. For a moment he lay in wild wide-eyed panic, then it dawned upon him that there was no pain. Wonderingly, he looked at his hands, his body. He was immersed in a raging inferno, and yet he was utterly unharmed though he’d seen the falling guard almost instantly disintegrate to ash. His human body was resistant to this unnatural alien fire.

A wild scream from above jolted Argos out of his amazement. Feasola was being forced towards the pit. Being a native of this dimension ‘she’ was not immune to the inferno. In mere seconds ‘she’ would be cast within the hungry flames and die a horrid death from agonizing immolation.

Argos saw there was one chance. He snatched the faceted sphere of gemmy blackness from its pedestal and hurled the thing from the pit. It arched high over the heads of Feasola and her captors and, like a blazing meteor, fell among the gawking congregation.

Screams of fear and agony erupted as Argos leaped, caught the edge, and hauled himself from the deadly pit. He saw the panicked crowd was stampeding for the exit. He rushed the shocked guards that still grasped Feasola. One fell beneath his flying fist, the other fled in panic.

Umara recovered from her disbelief. She yelled at the warriors who had raced up the stairs to assist in subduing the Earthman. “Kill it,” she cried, pointing with dramatic viciousness at Argos.

But the warriors had seen the Earthman fall into the flaming pit. He should be dead, burned to ash like all the other helpless sacrifices. They hesitated in fear of the unknown, the inexplicable. The slight delay was enough.

Feasola seized the moment. ‘She’ rushed at Umara. The kepae drew a slim dagger from her girdle to meet the charging foe. Enyid leaped protectively between the two. Feasola’s savage blow sent the sarad reeling to crash senseless upon the floor. Umara tried to stab ‘her’ wild assailant. Feasola caught the ‘woman’s’ wrist, twisted savagely. Umara cried in pain. ‘Her’ dagger clattered to the floor, and in an instant Feasola had the kepae in a brutal stranglehold.

“Keep back,” ‘Feasola yelled in dire warning to the shocked guards, “or I’ll break Umara’s neck.” Then to the kepae: “Order them to drop their weapons. I want this building cleared of everyone. Then have a fast ship brought to the entrance of the temple. Your people had better do these things if they want you to stay alive. Now, convey my orders.”

“May the gods curse you,” hissed Umara in hot and unwise defiance.

“Maybe they will,” replied Feasola coldly. “But if so I’ve nothing to lose by killing you. I’m desperate and ruthless. Remember that.”

Umara suppressed a curse. Reason prevailed over bravado. The kepae gave the orders as commanded. The temple was soon cleared of the few brave onlookers who had stayed to see what transpired, and then the warriors departed with instructions to fetch a flying vessel.

“What now?” asked Argos as he stepped to Feasola’s side.

“Escape first,” replied the ‘woman’ as she eyed him. “And then I’m going to ask you a lot of questions.”

“Likewise,” thought Argos as he looked around the temple for hidden threats. It was a disturbing scene he gazed upon. Trampled and bloody bodies lay everywhere. Hissing green fire continued to furiously erupt from the black sphere, slowly melting the floor where it lay. The noise of the flames was the only sound in the bleak silence.

Entity’s voice suddenly whispered in Argos’ mind. “The gem. Do not forget it,” prompted the enigmatic being.

The Earthman started. With everything happening he’d completely forgotten. Argos grimaced as he picked up Umara’s dagger and strode towards the idol. He stopped by the bracelet carved upon its wrist, whose single rose cut gemstone resembled amber with gold striations running through it. This thievery wasn’t to his liking, but he had no choice.

“This is no time for looting,” sharply admonished Feasola as ‘she’ saw him use the dagger to lever up the prongs that held the gemstone in its setting. ‘Her’ pointed rebuke added to Argos’ discomfiture; but the Earthman continued his work, and shortly the jewel rested in his palm. Argos turned and through the open doors glimpsed a ship identical to that which had brought him here land before the temple’s portal.

“The craft has arrived,” said Feasola. “Cease your pilfering. I am going and will not wait for you.”

Argos suppressed an oath. Escape came first. Explanations would have to wait. They moved towards the exit, the grim faced kepae held tightly before them as a shield to treacherous ambush.

Despite possible danger Argos went ahead and peered out. No one was in sight except the pilot of the ship, who had disembarked. Argos glimpsed ‘her’ back as ‘she’ raced away as if pursued by devils and quickly disappear behind some shrubbery.

“The way is clear,” he advised as Feasola reached his side.

They exited the temple and approached the ship’s boarding ramp. It was then that Umara made her move, for she sensed that Feasola had relaxed her grip a little. The kepae swiftly grabbed the constricting arm of her opponent. Before Feasola could react, Umara thrust ‘her’ hip against the ‘woman’ and quickly bent in such a way that Feasola was thrown violently to the ground.

Argos cursed, tried to grab the kepae. But ‘she’ nimbly eluded his grasping hands and fled, yelling all the while: “Guards, to me; to me.”

Again, the Earthman swore as a dozen warriors burst forth from concealing bushes and raced towards the ship. Each warrior bore a weapon resembling a speargun loaded with projectiles that were smaller versions of their javelin-like weapons. The rushing foe fired. A pronged missile crashed against the boarding ramp. Sparks erupted violently as it furiously discharged.

Another projectile hissed passed Argos - a narrow miss. It spurred the escapees. Up the boarding ramp they madly dashed. Feasola grasped the small crystal sphere forward of the vessel as the charging foe bore swiftly down upon them. The gate closed in response. The ramp retracted. More projectiles flashed about their crouching forms to slam in sparking fury against portions of the ship. The craft’s perimeter force curtain rose. A pronged missile crashed harmlessly against it. The ship swiftly lifted and fled across the sky with the swiftness of a loosed arrow.

Argos wiped the sweat from his brow and breathed a gusty sigh of vast relief as he sprawled on the deck, clutching the purloined gem. He turned to his companion who still gripped the crystal globe.

“Where to now?” he asked his Feasola in the absence of directions from Entity.

“My parents had selected a nation where we might find refuge, but I’ll tell you of that later. Right now we have to get as far away from Togu, capital of Radshur as possible. For the moment the expanse of the void with its many worlds is the best hiding place. I need time to think, to plan. We cannot arrive in another country bereft of clothes and funds, and in what is obviously a stolen Radshuan ship.”

Feasola gave Argos a hard look that clearly showed she would tolerate neither evasion nor deception. “Now, who are you? What are you, and where did you come from?”

His companion’s questions were entirely reasonable, and the Earthman gave full explanations to each. “So, you see,” he concluded. “I stole this gem at Entity’s bidding. I think it’s my only chance of getting back to Earth.”

Feasola wasn’t overly surprised at Argos’ origins. ‘She’ had gained fleeting impressions of his world when using ‘her’ mental powers to impart ‘her’ native tongue to him. The ‘woman’s’ questions were simply to confirm the accuracy of ‘her’ deductions.

“You no doubt have questions of your own,” began Feasola. “I cannot tell you anything of this being that calls itself Entity, for I have never heard of it, so I will tell you about myself.

“I have no tail as I showed you whilst in prison.” Feasola then digressed, explaining how ‘her’ people were hermaphrodites and their tails also reproductive organs. ‘She’ then continued: “It is a birth defect, and among my superstitious people is considered a mark of foul Nagash – the demon of witchcraft and evil. Those born with my condition often have some form of psychic power, which only magnifies the prejudice and fear of the ignorant. Fortunately, my loving parents defied the law and kept my existence secret; otherwise I would have been sacrificed to Amanu long ago.

“At the time my parents, being paid the lowly wages of domestic servants, were too poor to flee Radshur. Their hope was that through a higher vocation’s wages they could build a new life in a more enlightened country - namely, Tarusminar, which lies by the Sea of Putooli. To this end they sought to better themselves and me through education, obtained by reading many manuscripts borrowed from the city’s House of Wisdom.

“The years passed. I grew to maturity, and after much study my parents were able to obtain high paying jobs as assistants to Sacraton, the philosopher, a renowned experimenter. All was going well. Our plans had almost reached fruition; then cruel disaster struck. There was a laboratory accident – an explosion in which both my parents and Sacraton were tragically killed.

“I heard the blast. From our apartment I saw smoke billowing from the building where Sacraton worked. In an instant I was left utterly and terribly alone. It was devastating. I couldn’t turn to anyone for help. To be discovered would mean my certain death, and this would happen quickly when the city authorities came to impound the possessions of my deceased parents. In haste I made a false tail, gathered what money was in our home and fled. It was a desperate move and unfortunately it failed. The glue I used to attach the tail wasn’t strong enough. It fell off and thus I was exposed.”

Feasola fell silent, and Argos could clearly see that retelling the tragedy had awoken all the terrible pain associated with the recent heartbreaking loss of those ‘she’ loved. He sensed ‘she’ wanted to be alone with her thoughts, and so turned his attention to the scene outside the vessel.

By now they had passed through the aperture of Xyur’s globe and were in the weightless void of the mighty cloud-sphere whose luminous void contained all the other worlds. Argos wondered which of these smaller orbs might offer sanctuary, and what other strange civilizations and peoples might be contained within their hollow crystalline interiors.

Looking stern-ward Argos saw that Xyur, which they’d departed not so long ago, had shrunk to the size of a golf ball. It was testimony to the amazing speed of their strange craft. But it was not this that made the Earthman start. In the distance, but closing rapidly, were three other ships like the one in which he rode. He drew Feasola’s attention to the approaching vessels.

The ‘woman’ gasped in alarm when she gazed upon the nearing craft.

“They’re warships. I can tell by the pronged rams projecting from their bows. Damn Umara. May Nagash feast upon her putrid soul. We can’t outrun those craft in a commercial vessel, and when they strike us the discharge from their rams will fatally electrify our ship.

Chapter 5: Battle in the Void

“They’re closing swiftly,” nervously observed Argos as he grasped the railing and pulled himself quickly to the vessel’s stern. He worriedly gazed at the pursuing enemy. “If only Umara was still our hostage.”

“Regrets won’t save us,” replied Feasola. “I’ve thought of something. Securely grip the railing and carefully watch those ships. One will try and ram our stern. Warn me just before it touches us and brace yourself for violent impact.”

The Earthman did as he was asked. He desperately prayed that whatever plan Feasola had would work. The lead Radshuran warship closed rapidly – 100 yards, 50, 25; then feet, then inches. Argos, tense with fear, shouted a wild warning. Swiftly, their craft rose slightly, slowed suddenly. The enemy’s ram slipped beneath their keel and with the sudden braking of their vessel the foe’s superstructure crashed against a portion of their hull.

There was a terrible crunch. Plates buckled like cardboard. Argos was almost hurled to the deck by the terrible impact. The Earthman saw the upper works of the warship crumple. The enemy’s protective field winked out. Its crew was flung into the void, their arms and legs madly windmilling. Sparks erupted explosively from the stricken vessel as it veered to starboard and into the path of another closing attacker.

The two vessels collided violently. A flash of intense light momentarily dazzled Argos as the ram’s tremendous power was discharged. When the Earthman’s vision cleared, he saw the two ships locked together, the ram of one deeply penetrating the others blackened hull. The trick had worked, but the cost to Argos’ ship was also great.

“We’re slowing,” shouted Feasola, who had wrapped her legs around the control column to prevent being flung about. “One of our mechanisms must have been damaged by the impact. Where’s the remaining ship?”

“Coming up on portside; closing fast,” warned Argos. “They’re going to strike,” he yelled.

“Jump,” shouted Feasola.

Argos didn’t question his companion’s strange command. He leaped into the air. The warship’s ram slammed home. A dazzling flash exploded; a frightful jar shook the ship. Crackling bolts of electricity leaped between the stricken craft’s railings and deck. The air was filled with ozone. The protective screen around their vessel flickered dangerously for a moment, but held.

In the weightless environment Argos had shot up to the ceiling and somersaulted so his feet struck it rather than his head. There was no shock. The tremendous discharge had quickly dissipated. But if he’d been in contact with the metal deck at the time of impact, he’d have been fatally electrocuted.

That threat had passed, but the danger wasn’t over. Their vessel was drifting dead in space, its drive mechanism disabled by collision with the enemy. The Earthman saw their attacker had reversed and was now coming up beside them.

“They’re going to board,” shouted Feasola.

The warship’s magnetic energy locked the two craft together. Force screens touched, merged, enveloping both ships in a single protective field. The way was open. There was no barrier between the vessels where they touched. Six shouting warriors armed with electric weapons that were shorter versions of pronged spears swiftly leaped across the rails.

Argos found himself fighting in zero gravity, which was a bit like underwater combat. Three opponents came at him, shooting through the air like flying hawks. He kicked off from the ceiling, somersaulted and struck the deck feet first.

His foes sailed above him. One stabbed down with ‘her’ pronged weapon. Argos ducked, released the gem he clutched and grabbed ‘her’ wrist. His opponent’s momentum jerked him from the deck. They clinched, tumbled through the air, grappling furiously. The desperate Earthman wrenched the weapon from his foe. He broke free, stabbed ‘her’ with it. ‘She’ screamed, went limp.

Form the edge of vision Argos glimpsed the two remaining warriors as they somersaulted. Their feet struck the railing. They prepared to push off, to again come at him in an avenging rush. Argos slammed his heels into the torso of his incapacitated opponent, flinging ‘her’ away. The unconscious warrior clashed into ‘her’ compatriots, driving them against the ship’s force screen. Both screamed in agony. For them the fight was over.

The Earthman turned. He saw that Feasola was hard pressed by ‘her’ attackers. One of ‘her’ opponents drifted unconscious, the remaining pair were on ‘her’ in a frightful fury. Argos’ kick had propelled him towards the railing. He grabbed it and swiftly hauled himself to his sorely beset companion.

He snatched at a drifting weapon, caught the thing. Argos hurled it at one attacker. The prongs of the flying projectile hit the warrior he’d aimed for. The stricken ‘woman’ cried in agony. Feasola stabbed ‘her’ remaining assailant. The final foe added a tortured scream to that of ‘her’ companion.

“Look,” shouted Argos.

Feasola turned. ‘She’ saw the warship which had collided with the other free its ram. Surviving crew from the stricken vessel were now aboard the undamaged ship, which in but moments would be bearing down upon them in a vengeful rush of speed.

“Quick,” ordered Argos’ companion. “Into the other warship. Hurry.”

The Earthman paused only long enough to retrieve the gem he’d been forced to drop; then he was diving across the railing. He grabbed one of the warship’s handholds to halt his flight. Feasola was at the controls. The force barrier sprang back into existence. The two ships quickly decoupled. Away they fled with the enemy in swift and furious pursuit.

The voice of Entity unexpectedly sounded in Argos’ mind. “Make your way to Feasola. I will give you coordinates you will convey to your companion. Follow my course. It is your only hope of escaping these relentless foes.”

Argos used handholds to pull himself to Feasola. He advised his companion of Entity’s contact.

“Set course as follows,” he continued, relaying the being’s instructions. “Payuson 196. Janaz 22. Distance from current position 72,539 mun.

Feasola manipulated the warship’s control sphere, input the data by tracing the figures on its surface with her finger. Strange glowing arabesques crawled across its lucid form. The ‘woman’ swore when ‘she’ read the readout.

“This is suicide,” ‘she’ said, angrily turning to Argos. “If I keep to this course, we’ll deeply penetrate the glowing clouds of the Master Sphere in which all the worlds are contained. Explorers have tried before to discover what lies beneath those mysterious shimmering vapors. None have ever returned. Entity is asking us to fly into the very jaws of death. I refuse this heading until I know more.”

“Did you hear that,” asked Argos of the being. “Entity, are you there?” he worriedly queried. But the enigmatic voice was gone, leaving him with more questions than answers. He looked sternward. The pursuing warship was still on their tail with no sign of her captain giving up the chase.

“I think we should follow the course,” Argos said as he held up the purloined gem. “Entity wants this. That is why it brought me here. I don’t doubt that there is danger, but the being will ensure that I succeed in my mission, of which you are now a part. It has invested too much time and effort to see us fail.”

“Maybe,” replied Feasola skeptically. “But after it has what it wants, what then?”

“I honestly don’t know, but do we have any other options?”

Feasola, glanced back at their relentless pursuers. “Umara has no doubt ordered ‘her’ warriors to kill us regardless of the cost; with death for their families as the punishment should they fail. Given this threat, they’ll follow us to the ends of the cosmos.” Feasola thought for a moment. “I’ll set course as Entity advised,” ‘she’ decided. “Perhaps we can trust this being. Only time will tell.”

The warship fled through the void of the Master Sphere, the enemy in swift unrelenting pursuit. They passed strange worlds. Some were many times the size of Earth; others had a diameter the amazed Earthman guessed to be no more than a mile. All were filled with an abundance of strange life in multitudinous diversity. Argos passed the time by questioning Feasola about the outlandish cosmos he saw all around him.

The smaller spheres in the Master Sphere, ‘she’ revealed, were thought to be largely uninhabited by intelligent life. The total number of spheres, which drifted about erratically, was 153 thousand. The repulsive force of the spheres exteriors prevented them from colliding with each other, and stopped them from drifting into the luminous clouds of the Master Sphere, which was about 6 billion miles in diameter. Each sphere had a unique aural signature. Ships navigated by locking onto this emanation. Although the inner surface of the Master Sphere was divided into the equivalent of latitude and longitude, with every world in constant and erratic motion accurate charts were impossible to manufacture.

Space travel was only fairly recent – a development in Feasola’s lifetime. So far only two other worlds had been discovered that contained civilizations, the beings of which differed greatly in appearance from the people of Xyur, Feasola’s sphere. These other worlds were Chanam and Kathur, with which Xyur traded; the commerce being rare spices such as hoz from Chanam and norrim from Kathur.

Chanam was the lest technically advanced of the three worlds. All its nations were feudal states at the level of the early iron age. The population was small, and the major settlements situated along substantial river systems and coastal areas. Orange and yellow were the dominant colors of the variegated flora. The Chanamese, like the Kathurans had distinct genders of male and female. Their bodies were humanoid in form and covered in fine glossy scales that were roan in color. On the scalp the scales became much larger, forming a helmet-like structure. The largest of the states was Zaru. Its walled well planned cities were largely unremarkable architecturally. The building tended to be flat roofed and cubical in form with the corners ornamented with simple fluted columns. The shuttered windows were square and surrounded by a decorative border in the Greek key pattern. Both sexes wore sarong-like garments, usually white. The overall impression was one of practical utility.

The relationship between this trinity of worlds was largely amicable. Of the three spheres Xyur was the more technically advanced world, with Togu being the capital of Radshur, a major nation of the globe. Adjana, capital of Zubara, the primary republic of Kathur, had obtained knowledge of spaceflight from Tarusminar, the Xyuran nation who had made first contact with the people this world. When Umara found out about this ‘she’ had been absolutely furious, seeing the sharing of technology - an act of friendship - as a threat to Radshur’s monopoly on trade as well as military supremacy. Umara had never accepted what had happened, rebuffing Adjanese diplomacy, and this was the source of tension between the two nations.

The size of each world’s fleet was limited by the rarity of ophulon – a crucial element necessary for the ships propulsion systems. The mercantile and military fleets of the major nations of both spheres was similar in size – approximately 6 of the former and 12 of the latter.

On a broader scale: The origins of the cosmos were a mystery. Most held that it was the creation of this god or that; others thought a naturalistic explanation more likely and speculated it had condensed out of a preexistent vaporous chaos. But none could say how either chaos or gods had originated.

Time passed. Their ship ate up the tremendous distances until at last after 10 hours the roiling luminous vapors of the Master Sphere filled their entire field of vision. Argos gazed into the vast cyclonic eddies, tremendous storms that swirled in endless glowing ferment. Strange crimson lightening flickered in the radiant clouds. Mountain size geysers of mist exploded skyward in stupendous roaring columns, and then slowly collapsed in upon themselves. Everywhere he looked was an awesome luminous chaos of wild tumult.

Argos turned to Feasola. Her expression was as bleak as his. To plunge into the titanic elemental fury that raged unabated before them seemed like certain suicide. The Worried Earthman glanced sternward. The enemy still followed in relentless pursuit. Implacable foes to the rear; monstrous destruction to the fore. Death seemed inescapable no matter what the choice.

An idea came to Argos, one born of utter desperation. He spoke to his companion. “There are storms on my world similar to the swirling vapors before us. The centre, which we call the eye, is calm,” he explained, pointing. “Fly into it and we may yet live.”

“I pray you’re right,” replied Feasola as ‘she’ quickly altered course. “But there is another danger. Our speed is tremendous. I must slow our craft considerably, for to strike atmosphere at this velocity would be like hitting a mountainside.”

“Won’t the enemy catch up?” Argos asked worriedly.

“It’s a risk we’ll have to take,” ‘she’ grimly replied.

Their craft began to slow under the guidance of her pilot. The enemy warship grew nearer, closer. Argos sweated. The foe leaped at them. Feasola swerved their ship, twisting and turning their craft like a writhing serpent. The enemy clung to them like a shadow; they barely avoided her lunging ram. The pursued craft braked heavily, further retarding her tremendous velocity. Ages passed in an agony of narrow misses. Argos knew they couldn’t keep this up forever.

Then the heart of one swirling storm opened up before them like the maw of a primordial titan. Into it they plummeted. In an instant their craft was gripped by howling wind, spun like a leaf in a millrace, swallowed by the twisting funnel of lightening wreathed vapors that sucked them down to black annihilation.

Argos and Feasola clung to the control column, the centrifugal force threatening to tear their clawing fingers loose and hurl them with bone shattering force to the metal deck of the plunging craft. Both were in a state of utter terror. Their vessel was out of control, dropping like a stone and nothing could be done to halt the fatal fall. Argos knew he’d made a lethal error and cursed himself for an utter fool.

Chapter 6: Beneath the Clouds

The vessel plunged like a lead weight. Time lost all meaning in the howling elemental chaos through which they fell in whirling uncontrolled descent. An unending nightmare of horrid sensations progressed. The strain began to show. Argos could feel his trembling sweat slick fingers begin to lose their clawing grip. Wild fear stabbed him. In but moments he would be hurled to the deck, his bones shattered by the horrid impact on unforgiving metal.

Then, when he thought he could hold on no longer, their spinning craft began to slow its mad gyrations. Argos sensed the strange force that now gripped their tumbling ship and steadied its erratic fall. Entity’s soothing voice spoke within his fevered brain.

“Be at ease. I have recovered my strength. No harm shall befall you.”

Then it was gone, and he was alone but for his equally frightened companion.

Soon their ship stopped its dizzy whirl. They floated down on an even keel. The air about them had been stilled by Entity’s strange telekinetic power, and now an eerie quiet pervaded. Both had sunk to the deck, exhausted. Suddenly, Feasola gasped, pointed. They saw the pursuing warship tumble passed them, falling to its fatal end. That could easily have been their fate, but for their enigmatic benefactor’s timely intervention.

Feasola turned ‘her’ head away from the frightening sight and Argos saw ‘her’ shudder. He knew how ‘she’ felt and placed a comforting arm about ‘her’ shoulders. They’d been through a series of harrowing ordeals and the cumulative effect had finally come upon them, leaving each badly shaken. The ‘woman’ turned into his embrace and they clung to each other, seeking mutual comfort in the aftermath of overwhelming terror.

Argos became intimately aware of the contact between them – ‘her’ warmth, the press of ‘her’ breasts and belly. Desire came upon him, and yet it was disturbing. Feasola’s people were alien hermaphrodites. ‘She’ had been born malformed - without the male component of ‘her’ reproductive organs, but did that make ‘her’ a woman any more than a man without genitals made him female? He wasn’t sure. Everything was so strange to him. This and his uncertainty left him in a state of conflicting emotions.

Feasola became aware of his arousal, and knew what it signified due to Argos’ earlier explanations of human reproduction. ‘She’, too, was beset by similar emotions. ‘Her’ deformity had barred the fulfillment of desire, the need for intimacy that went well beyond parental love. The Earthman’s touch had roused these elemental feelings. But, like him, ‘she’ was inhibited by the strangeness of ‘her’ companion. It was an awkward moment, and neither knew how to smoothly resolve the disturbing situation.

Fortunately, their craft, after 2000 miles of descent, broke through the swirling vaporous chaos into clear calm air, and its sudden emergence provided a resolving distraction. The couple broke apart, moved to the ship’s railing and gazed down on the fantastic scene spread out far below.

Beneath the clouds was another world whose proportions were of such titanic magnitude that it was beyond the mind of each to fully grasp. A planet size continent lay beneath them. Mountain ranges thrust their snow capped peaks skyward, each mighty tor piercing heaven with its stupendous height. Immense rivers snaked between deep valleys choked with riotous vegetation that spread across the land in exuberant and unrestrained fecundity.

Everything was on an immense mind boggling scale. The trees were towering giants that made the mighty sequoia look like a mere weed by comparison. Their massive trunks, plated in warty ebony bark, rose into the air for hundreds upon hundreds of feet and spread out in lush canopies of dark blue foliage of stunning expanse. Vegetable life choked the valleys, climbed the mighty mountains to the snow line, and marched to the shore of the colossal continent that was caressed by the foaming waves of a Brobdingnagian sea.

The breathtaking ocean spread in all directions, fading into the mist of mighty distance. The sea floor was transparent, and through it Argos saw the luminous pale green void that lay beyond. In the immensity of this glowing expanse the amazed Earthman saw other stupendous spheres, and through their crystalline sections of ocean floor he glimpsed other strange seas and mysterious continents brimming with alien life.

This was a universe of spheres within spheres, and the green void, the illimitable expanse on which he gazed in awe, might itself be another sphere nestled within another sphere and so on ad infinitum. The thought left his brain reeling as he sought to grasp the incomprehensible magnitude of what his astonished eyes beheld.

As Argos stared in wonder at the panoramic view their ship slowed further and changed direction, bringing into sight another marvel. The thing floated in the air about a mile distant. It was a spiky sphere cast in an alloy of dull silver. The object, at least a thousand miles in diameter, glowed with a rosy aura. Current arced between its stupendous spiky points in crackling discharges as it slowly rotated about its vertical axis, and somehow the startled Earthman knew that what he saw before him was not the abode of Entity, but the actual being itself.

Feasola moved closer to him, and Argos placed his arm about ‘her’ shoulders. Both felt small and insignificant, dwarfed by the mighty presence of the enigmatic being that slowly drew their puny ship towards it. They safely passed the prominences of flaring power, slipped between the jutting mountainous spikes, triangular in cross section, of Entity’s glowing form.

Gradually, they drew near the central globe from which the spikes projected. It was about 300 miles in diameter, and as the distance closed a mighty circular door, like the iris of a cyclopean eye, spiraled open. Their ship slid within an expansive spherical chamber whose inner surface was clad in smoky crystalline pyramids, the sides of which were studded with black cubes.

Their craft slowed further and stopped within the centre of the sphere, which was about five miles in diameter. The couple tensed as a globe of light unexpectedly formed several feet from them. The glow wavered like a heat haze. It condensed. Its form changed. Color and texture appeared in strange transmutation, and before their startled gaze was food, drink and indigenous clothes in undeniable material form.

Entity’s voice then sounded in their minds: “The viands are real. They will satisfy your hunger and the garments your requirements for modesty. Jason, consume only the food on the green plates and beverage in the green beaker as both have been created for your human body’s specific needs. Now, eat and drink while I explain my need for you.”

Argos gazed at the food as he dressed. The sight of the viands spread before him made Argos acutely aware of his appetite, for his early morning breakfast was by now many hours behind him. The Earthman ate with relish despite the strange appearance of the food. The square green plates were stacked with small cubes of orange nutriment that looked like marzipan, but were savory in taste, and the beaker contained a foaming pale blue liquid whose sweet and sour flavor reminded him of Asian dishes.

Entity recommenced its explanations as Feasola, now also clothed, joined Argos at the meal, her food being set out on white plates with her drink in a beaker of the same colour.

“I am a product of the Builders,” began the being. “As is this entire Universe. The Builders, although not gods, were intellects of immeasurable power that sowed the seeds of creation for the sheer pleasure of artistic joy. They departed many eons ago, leaving me behind to watch over this small portion of their universe as it evolved into what you see today.

“I observed life emerge from the primordial slime on a multiplicity of worlds, saw it flourish and change into multitudinous forms as continents came together and drifted apart, the organic and inorganic creation guided by the Builder’s matrix-engines buried beneath the landmass of every sphere. I watched Feasola’s remote ancestors on their journey from dumb brutes to thinking beings and reach their present state of civilization. And all these countless ages I was content to merely scrutinize. But now things have reached developments where I must intervene.

“Every world must be allowed to develop in its unique way. Its peoples must be free to choose their own paths rather than have other spheres impose their will upon them. Umara, kepae of the city of Togu, capital of Radshur in the sphere of Xyur threatens the liberty of everyone, and this cannot be permitted. Unbeknown to all but ‘her’ inner circle, ‘she’ has been secretly developing new and terrible weapons of foul destruction. The nations of the spheres of Kathur will fall before the brutality of ‘her’ might. I cannot let this happen. I will not let this happen.”

“This is indeed disturbing news,” said Feasola. “But with all your knowledge and power what need have you of us? Why not simply assassinate Umara?”

“I do not have complete freedom to act,” explained Entity. “I cannot directly kill. It is a safeguard of the Builders who created me. I can create machines that can kill, but I cannot use them. I chose Jason Argos because, after much study, I determined that although he can kill he would only do so to defend himself and others.

“In addition, being from another dimension, his body is immune to certain radiations of this cosmos – the fire of the idol’s sacrificial pit, for example. The gemstone he took from the statue of Amanu is an important component of the weapon I am building to thwart Umara’s dreadful schemes. You, Feasola, are essential also. Your knowledge can assist Jason in the tasks I will set him. By working together you can succeed in stopping a great evil. Only in this way can I circumvent the inhibitions the Builders placed upon me.”

“You imply your goals are noble,” said Argos, who had been intently listening with growing anger. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful that you saved us from the storm. But that doesn’t change the fact you kidnapped me. You deliberately placed me in danger. You set me down where you knew I’d be captured. You knew how Umara would react – that I’d be imprisoned with Feasola, who has also been dragged into your scheme. But what you couldn’t know is that we’d survive the ordeal. Both of us have been press ganged into your service, manipulated against our will. We’ve been put through Hell. We didn’t consent to any of this.”

“What you say is true. But after studying both of you I calculated there was a 76 percent chance of success,” replied Entity imperturbably. “On the other hand had I asked for your consent I calculated there was a chance, albeit small, you would refuse to participate, which is understandable. The greater good, however, must be served. If required the few must be sacrificed for the many, as the just wars of your own world testify.”

“Studied? Damn you,” spat Argos, not at all mollified by Entity’s detached logic. “We’re not lab rats to be coldly utilized. Why should we continue to serve you?”

“I cannot directly kill,” reiterated Entity. “But I can withhold my aid. You witnessed the machine that brought you here disintegrate. It did so because the energies of your universe destabilized the matter from which it was composed. Similarly, your body is constructed from matter that is alien to this universe. A similar fate awaits you, held in check by the retarding force my machine bathed you in whilst you were unconscious. By my calculations this preserving energy, which the mechanism transferred from itself to you, is now depleted to the point where the agony of fatal disintegration will manifest unless I quickly intervene.”

Argos gasped in shock. As Entity had been speaking a tingling sensation, which permeated his entire body, had suddenly come upon the Earthman. Now the mildly unpleasant feeling rapidly increased and became a burning agony as if every nerve had been set violently alight.

Feasola cried in sharp dismay as ‘her’ companion fell upon the deck. Sick with fear ‘she’ watched in helpless horror as he began to writhe and scream in utter agony. The ‘woman’ cried to Entity with wild pleas for mercy, but ‘her’ desperate entreaties were greeted with unmoving silence.

Chapter 7: The Crimson Ray

“Jason is no good to you dead,” shouted the tearful ‘woman’ in wild appeal to Entity’s self interest. “I beg you, save Jason and end this needless suffering.”

The strange being acted, but not out of compassion. An opalescent glow enveloped the writhing, screaming Earthman, sank into his body as if it was a sponge absorbing water. Argos’ violent thrashing began to subside. His trembling limbs stilled and the ragged gasps of his labored breathing also slowly settled.

Feasola gently wiped the sweat from his brow and worriedly looked at his glazed expression. This, too, soon passed and he was once again himself, albeit very weak from the horrid experience.

“Entity, you are cruel,” cried Feasola in weepy outrage.

“Not needlessly,” replied the being. “Jason’s experience is instructive. Now he fully realizes he must cooperate. And you, who have become emotionally attached to him, will also work with me, for through him I also have a hold on you. Greater things are at stake than the lives of two. However, I understand that both of you see things differently. But enough philosophizing – the enemy fleet will soon depart Togu, and we must act with speed.”

Entity, using its telekinetic powers, grasped the egg size rose-cut gemstone that Argos had laid upon the deck whilst eating. The mineral, which resembled amber but was a true stone rather than resinous in nature, began to glow as it was lifted into the air. The gemstone shimmered as the mysterious being’s transmutative powers began to act upon its matter. Its form changed, became smooth, lenticular. It hung in the air, transformed – a glittering lens of crimson substance.

A golden haze then formed around the lens, condensed, took form. A tubular mechanism lay revealed before the amazed gaze of Argos and the ‘woman.’ It resembled a tripod mounted telescope. The crimson lens was affixed at the front of the slim cylinder while at the rear was a pistol grip and trigger rather than an eyepiece. The device’s power source was a 12 inch sphere mounted between the tripod’s legs.

Entity spoke: “Behold the instrument of Umara’s sure defeat.”

Argos, who had regained most of his composure, rose to a sitting position with Feasola’s aid and gazed skeptically upon the solitary weapon. He was most unhappy about the situation, but bitterly realized he had no choice but to cooperate.

“How can we hope to defeat an armada with just that?,” he asked, bridling his anger. “Surely, what is required is an entire fleet equipped with these devices.”

“You are mistaken,” explained Entity. “I remind you that the size of each nation’s fleet is small, limited by the rarity of ophulon, which is a crucial element necessary for every ship’s propulsion system. You will not have to engage many vessels. A single weapon of this nature is sufficient for the task.

“Umara desires empire,” elaborated Entity. “’She’ cannot conquer nations on ‘her’ own sphere, for they would unite against ‘her’. By contrast the nations of Kathur are less advanced and disunited, making them an easier target.”

“Won’t the other nations of Xyur object the her warmongering?” queried Argos.

“Naturally, replied Entity. “But they won’t start a war and risk their own lives over what happens to an alien people on another world. Radshur, like the other nations has few spacecraft, but Umara’s army, navy and airforce are formidable. Realpolitik exists here as it does on Earth. But what the other nations of Xyur don’t seem to realize is that with the resources of the conquered peoples of the Zubaran nation at ‘her’ disposal, Umara can then invade other Kathuran states, and with each success ‘she’ will become even more powerful and more brutal. Eventually, no one on any world will be safe.

“But I digress. The attack upon Adjana, capital of Zubara, will be more of a commando raid to seize the central government than full scale war. I will alter your vessel so it resembles a ship of Zubara, and strengthen its hull plates. You will come from behind the globe and engage the foe, destroying all but a single vessel that will carry word back to Umara of the fleet’s annihilation.

“Umara will believe the Zubarans have devastating military technology far beyond their apparent means and this will deter her imperial ambitions. The Zubarans will deny responsibility. But of course Umara will not believe them. Fearing other nations of Kathur may also have this weapon most of Umara’s time and energy will be spent in attempting to spy out the secret of this new science – a fruitless enterprise as the Zubarans do not have it. Thus occupied ‘she’ will have little time for militarism.”

“It seems you have thought of everything,” admitted Feasola, grudgingly. “And since you have a hold on us it appears we have no choice but to do your bidding.”

**********

Argos gazed worriedly at the approaching Radshuran flotilla travelling in its line of battle, now delineated clearly in his telescope. The six ships were identical to the ones that had previously pursued them, except that they had cannon mounted upon their decks. The barrels of the weapons, formed from a non-conductive ceramic like material, poked through the force screens of the vessels.

The Earthman grimaced as he stared at the gaping mouths of the cannon, ugly weapons that would soon vomit death and destruction from their black throats. Each enemy warship had ten guns – one at the bow, another at the stern and four on the port and starboard sides. The cannons were muzzle loaders fired by electric discharge. The weapons were primitive in many ways, but even so they far outclassed the bows and swords used by their opponents, whose strange religion made electrical weapons taboo, for lightening was the armament of the gods. Any Zubaran ship attempting to ram the Radshurans would be blown to pieces well before it could succeed in its objective.

“Have they seen us yet?” asked Feasola as ‘she’ tensely gripped the helm controls.

“No … Wait! There are signal lights flashing between the ships. One vessel is peeling off to intercept. Prepare for action!”

Grim faced, the man collapsed his telescope. He grasped the pistol grip of Entity’s weapon; placed his finger on the trigger. He was about to kill. The Earthman didn’t like it. Argos forced this disturbing thought aside. The heat of battle was not the time for navel gazing.

The foe bore down upon him in a rush of frightening speed. A flash erupted from her bow cannon. The shot whirled passed in a narrow miss. Argos kept his cool. The enemy was in the crosshairs of his sighting mechanism. He squeezed the trigger of the weapon. A ray of blazing crimson light lanced forth from the lens. It struck the diving craft, enveloped it in a nimbus of ruby light. The vessel shimmered, exploded in a cloud of roiling vaporized matter.

Feasola bravely steered their ship towards the enemy flotilla. Again Argos fired. Another craft vanished in a silent explosion of flaring incandescent gas. Signal lights flashed madly between the remaining warships. They scattered at the swift destruction of their fellows. But this was no frightened retreat. The enemy warships swept around. They converged on Argos’ vessel from multiple directions, cannon blazing furiously.

Another foe vanished in a flare of billowing incandescent vapor. But then the Earthman’s ship was struck multiple times. The vessel shuddered under the fearsome impact of the hurtling cannon balls. Hull plates buckled. Sparks erupted from jolted mechanisms. Argos and his companion were nearly flung to the deck by the force of the projectiles frightful impact.

The enemy ships flashed passed in a blur of tremendous speed. Argos swore, fired but missed the hurtling craft. He turned to Feasola.

“Are we badly hit?” he worriedly asked.

“We’ve still got power, but our maneuverability and speed have been compromised. I doubt we can withstand a second attack.”

Argos cursed. Entity’s plan was not proceeding with anticipated smoothness. The Earthman swung around desperately searching for the foe. With the telescope jammed to his eye he saw the three remaining ships speeding towards Kathur. It was clear that rather than continue the engagement and suffer further losses they’d broken off attack. No doubt their aim was to seize the seat of government in a swift assault of overwhelming force before their strength was thoroughly depleted.

“Can we pursue the foe?” asked Argos.

“We can, but considering the damage our ship has sustained I don’t advise it,” warned Feasola. “Our weapon has the greater power, but the enemy is now swifter and more maneuverable. However, if we retreat Entity will be peeved, and to incur its displeasure would also be imprudent. I leave the final decision to you, being the commander of this desperate enterprise.”

Argos silently cursed Entity. They were betwixt a rock and a hard place, and it seemed all he had was a choice between the lesser of two evils. Feasola watched ‘her’ tense companion. ‘She’ sensed his inner struggle clearly delineated on his troubled countenance. The worried Earthman took a deep and calming breath. He insightfully reframed the question: What action, if successful, would bring about the greater good? He thought of the unsuspecting people of Adjana. Soon, brutal death would rain down upon them. He and Feasola were in the best position to stop the gory massacre.

“We will pursue the enemy,” he calmly announced, “and do what we can to foil the foe’s attack.”

Feasola touched the controls and their ship limped towards Kathur at what seemed a snail’s pace to the anxious Earthman.

After an apparent age they passed through the aperture of the tremendous globe and sped through the world’s atmosphere towards Adjana, the capital of Zubara and target of Umara’s flotilla.

The city of Adjana soon came into view. The metropolis was laid out in a series of concentric circles and divided by broad avenues radiating outwards from the expansive central plaza.

To the Earthman’s eyes the buildings of the city were exceedingly strange. Each was very sculptural in form. Their distinctive architecture consisted of high spiraling cones with blade-like vertical ribs along their whorls. Each cone rose from a ribbed catenary dome. The windows were trefoil in form, and the entire surface of each building was covered in ceramic tiles of azure, gold, ruby and cream that had been arranged in intricate abstract patterns that were unique to each structure.

The dwellings were arranged in neat rows along the avenues, each joined to the other like terrace houses with a small garden of pastel hued plants, as colorful as a rainbow, at front and back. To Argos the colors, forms and textures of the architecture and ornamental gardens combined in a way that was somewhat overpowering to the senses. But there was little time to fully contemplate the alien aesthetic, for his gaze quickly focused on the heart of the metropolis where a fierce battle was under way for possession of the government buildings, which were even more elaborate versions of the domestic architecture.

Argos saw people were milling in frightened confusion in the streets, drawn from their homes by the thunder of roaring cannon. The burning wreckage of three Adjananan ships lay strewn about the plaza while above the circling enemy vessels laid down a barrage of fire into the government buildings as the city’s defending craft darted like angry wasps towards the foe in desperate rushes.

The Earthman saw the bow of one Zubaran warship crumple under the impact of a whirling cannon ball. But the terrific momentum of the vessel’s suicidal rush carried it onward, and it collided with the foe before a second shot could blast it from the sky. A mighty crash of jarring sound tore the air. The watching crowd cried out in collective panic as the doomed ships tumbled earthward. The terrified throng scattered. Those lucky escaped; others were crushed beneath the wreckage as it struck. Explosives detonated with the impact. Both ships were torn apart by the frightful blast. Jagged shrapnel was hurled in all directions inflicting further gory carnage.

Argos swore at the horrific sight. Now in range he fired. The second of the surviving enemy vanished in a roiling thunderous explosion of vaporized alloy. But then the remaining vessel discharged its roaring cannon in a devastating broadside. For projectiles slammed against the Earthman’s already damaged ship in a jarring crash of deafening sound. Already weakened plates were sundered by the combined impact. Previously compromised mechanisms failed. Feasola cried in panic as their hapless craft nosedived in a fatal plunge of uncontrolled descent.

Chapter 8: Final Confrontation

As the craft plunged Feasola fought a desperate battle to slow their falling ship. Its retarding mechanism's briefly activated. The vessel slowed. Systems failed. Again it tumbled in gut wrenching plummeting descent. The deck pitched violently. Argos fell. He slid towards the helm, grabbed the control post and hauled himself upright beside his terrified companion.

The man’s knuckles whitened in a desperate grip as the ship rolled alarmingly. Argos saw the ground rush up with terrifying speed. Bleak death, like a monstrous beast, was about to savagely leap upon them in but seconds. As he gazed at Feasola thoughts flashed through his mind - all the things he should have done and said, but hadn’t. All the things he could say and do but never would. The fact that she was alien no longer mattered.

His companion was oblivious to his turmoil. ‘She’ righted the craft, continued ‘her’ valiant fight to slow their fatal plunge. He opened his mouth to speak. His words were stilled by fearsome deceleration as Feasola’s skilled hands roused the mechanisms again to activation. Their falling ship slowed but not quite fast enough. They struck with bone jarring force. Both were flung brutally to the deck by the violent impact.

Argos struggled through the wracking agony of his battered body. Groaning, he managed to raise himself to an elbow. Feasola lay crumpled beside him and for one terrifying moment he thought ‘she’ was dead, but her moan of pain quickly reassured him ‘she’ still lived. ‘Her’ eyes fluttered open under his examining touch. Like Argos, ‘she’ was badly bruised, but apart from ‘her’ contusions, miraculously, no serious injury had been sustained.

“Look,” gasped Feasola as he helped the ‘woman’ to ‘her’ feet.

Argos saw that during the terror of their plunge the last of the defending Adjananan warships had been blasted from the sky. The remaining Radshuran craft, a troop carrier, had landed at the artillery pockmarked entrance of the primary government building. Fifty howling warriors poured from its deck. The Earthman staggered to his ray-weapon. He aimed, squeezed the trigger. Argos cursed. Nothing happened. A delicate component had been broken by the jarring impact. The self-destruct mechanism automatically activated, and the device turned to dust before his eyes.

The Earthman tore his gaze from the pile of metallic powder at his feet. He looked on in fuming helplessness as the foe raced up the debris littered steps. Defending guards rushed from concealment. They cast a flight of javelins. Radshuran warriors screamed, fell, pierced through by the fiercely hurled projectiles. But an avenging volley of musketry from the invaders mowed down their brave opponents with terrifying ease. The way was open. The roaring hoard plunged through the damaged ornate portico, callously trampling the bodies of the slain in a wild triumphant rush.

Argos cursed as Feasola stepped to his side. “The enemy has won,” he bitterly said to his companion.

“Perhaps, perhaps not,” ‘she’ thoughtfully replied. “I’m sure I glimpsed Umara in the vanguard of the assault. ‘She’ has many faults, but cowardice isn’t among them. Overconfidence in ‘her’ new weapons combined with the desire to be personally present; to be a part of the conquest of ‘her’ rivals and so have the pleasure of witnessing their end, may have been too great a temptation to resist, leading ‘her’ to risk placing ‘herself’ in the midst of danger.

“Look around,” continued Feasola. “The city is in chaos, caught completely off guard by the surprise attack. The defenders have suffered heavy losses. It will take time for them to regroup, and by then Umara will hold the entire Zubaran leadership hostage. They will be forced to capitulate. Umara has likely assumed we didn’t survive the crash. ‘She’ will not be expecting an attack from the rear so soon. It may give us a slim element of surprise if we swiftly act right now.”

Argos could see that it was their one frail hope of saving this world from the tyranny of brutal conquest, and so he quickly agreed. Both leaped from their ruined craft and sprinted towards the entrance of the war-torn building. Up its steps they raced, Argos pausing only long enough to grab two carbines from the corpses of the foe and sling one across his shoulder.

The couple dashed through the building’s cadaver strewn entrance. From a distance could be heard the sound of desperate battle - warriors screaming in death, the thundering of firearms and the crackling discharge of close range electrical weapons. They followed the grim trail of corpses through colonnaded hallways badly damaged by cannon fire and occupied solely by the mutilated dead.

Shortly, using fallen columns and rubble from the partially collapsed roof as cover, the Earthman and his companion came upon the bloody nexus of the wild fray. Pinned down by the bombardment from the Radshuran warships, the Zubaran councilors hadn’t been able to escape the building. Now they stood at bay, their backs to the wall of a spacious debris strewn room, a contingent of their own guards locked in deadly and violent conflict with the foe.

Standing well back from the fray was Umara, three of ‘her’ warriors at guard. The Radshuran ruler looked on gleefully at the carnage being wrought. Defenders and invaders were intertwined in a deadly melee now too close for carbine use. Brutal hand-to-hand combat was in savage progress. Radshuran electrical weapons sparked against Zubaran swords that were of a non-conductive glass-like material.

The indigenous warriors, stocky beings with metallic green skins, orange eyes and purple mohawk crests fought valiantly, but they were outnumbered two to one and Argos knew that there could be only one outcome to this ghastly unequal battle. Grim faced he stealthily slid the barrel of his rifle over the fallen pillar that concealed him and Feasola. But a sharp eyed guard spotted him, cried out. The Earthman fired before the warrior could fling ‘herself’ protectively in front of Umara.

The powerful muzzle-loader, fired by electric discharge, kicked violently against Argos’ shoulder as its one inch ball erupted in a roar of smoke and flame from the barrel. The hurtling projectile struck Umara squarely in the head as ‘she’ tried to duck in response to the guard’s warning. The kepae went down in a spray of blood, dead before ‘she’ hit the floor. ‘Her’ guards cried out in consternation. One returned fire and the whining ball slammed against the pillar sending a biting spray of stony chips in all directions. Argos cast aside his spent carbine, fired the second. Another foe tumbled lifeless to the ground.

Someone among the defenders saw what had happened, shouted triumphantly that the Radshuran ruler had been slain. A savage roar erupted from the Zubaran warriors at this heartening news. They strove with renewed vigour against their foes who were weakened by the dreadful revelation. In an instant the tide of battle turned. Umara had been the driving force behind ‘her’ warriors. Without this their will to fight collapsed. The invaders turned as one and fled.

“We must reach the troop carrier before these panicked fools,” cried Feasola as the fleeing foe raced in their direction. “Some may wish to kill us in revenge for their defeat. The Zubarans might also slay us, mistaking us for enemies before we can explain.”

The couple turned and ran. They madly dashed through hallways, the foe but yards behind as they nimbly leaped debris. The Zubaran warriors were also snapping at their heels like savage wolves. Feasola burst from the building in a wild dash, Argos close beside her. The troop carrier was fifty yards away. The Earthman silently cursed. Another platoon of Zubaran warriors had erupted from a side avenue and were rushing to cut them off.

Arrows were swiftly loosed by the new attackers. A rain of wicked shafts fell upon those fleeing. Radshurans screamed, fell in bloody heaps, cut down to the last. Feasola echoed their agonized cries as a barbed projectile struck ‘her’ in the side. Horrified, Argos quickly gathered the wounded ‘woman’ into his arms as another flight of hissing arrows swept towards him.

He cried out in fear and pain as a projectile grazed his arm; others rattled hideously on flagstones as he madly sprinted for the ship. Feasola’s weight slowed him; howling Zubaran warriors gained upon him. He made the craft, dashed to the control column. The vessel began to rise in response to his touch. Argos dropped to his knees, shielding Feasola with his body as another flight of arrows clattered around him in narrow misses.

A single Zubaran warrior vaulted onto the deck. The force screen rose as did the vessel. The fellow rushed Argos, yelling madly as the craft shot away from the city. The desperate Earthman, although unarmed, leaped to meet his wild opponent. Argos twisted aside and his foe’s thrusting sword missed, but only just. Argos grabbed his enemy’s arm, jerked violently. The man fell heavily, lost his weapon. It skittered across the deck, out of reach to both combatants.

The Earthman’s opponent was down, but not out. He lashed out with a brutal kick. Argos howled as his shin was hammered by the violent blow. He went down in a bruising fall. His enemy sprang upon him like a raging tiger. They grappled madly, furiously, writhing like demented serpents. Argos’ college wrestling skills came back to him. He managed to get his enemy in a choke hold, exerted pressure mercilessly. The fellow fought furiously to free himself, but to no avail. His struggles weakened, stilled.

Argos, breathing hard, released the body. He rose and staggered to Feasola’s side. ‘She’ was unconscious. Blood was everywhere. ‘Her’ breathing was dangerously shallow and it didn’t take a physician’s training to know that ‘she’ was dying.

He looked towards the heavens imploringly and cried out: “Entity, if ever I’ve needed you it is now. Save Feasola. That is all I ask.”

Minutes passed, but the only reply to his desperate and continuous pleas was uncaring silence, and as he helplessly gazed upon the being he had come to love he wept a cataract of tears, his heart rent by the awful knowledge of ‘her’ coming death.

Chapter 9: Homeward Bound

Argos held Feasola’s hand until the end. ‘She’ never regained consciousness, and he was uncertain if ‘she’ heard the tearful words of love he spoke to ‘her’ as ‘she’ lay dying. As he knelt with bowed head beside the still form, movement at the edge of vision drew his gaze. Three Zubaran military dirigibles - reinforcements summoned by signal mirrors from Hadjat, a nearby city, were fast approaching his fleeing craft. The sight roused him from the bleakness of his devastating loss. There had been enough death today and he wanted no further bloodshed. Rising with a heavy heart weighed down by leaden grief, Argos touched the controls. The ship fled from the enemy, passed through the world’s portal, and vanished into the lonely immensity of the alien void.

**********

Argos stood again in the presence of Entity. He hadn’t wanted to return to the being, holding it responsible for the death of Feasola. But he desperately wanted to return home, and so he had no choice.

During the long and dreadful voyage of return there had been no communication from Entity, who had abandoned him in his hour of desperate need. The only pause in his return was at a small globe where he laid Feasola’s body to rest beneath the spreading boughs of a strange tree whose flowers were like living flames of bright crimson.

Bitterness, sadness and anger, all mixed in a violent whirl of emotions, filled him with bleakness as he had guided the ship through the iris doorway and into the mechanical body of the cold inhuman intelligence. The Earthman now stared sullenly around the expansive spherical chamber whose inner surface was clad in smoky crystalline pyramids, the sides of which were studded with black cubes.

“Well, I hope you’re happy,” he muttered with barely controlled rage. “Umara is dead, but for me the price has been far too high, you ruthless manipulative bastard. I’ve lost Feasola whom I’ve come to love.”

“In your eyes, from your perspective I am no doubt all of these things,” replied Entity, completely unperturbed by the Earthman’s hotly spoken words. “But if you look behind you, you will see that I reward those who serve me well.”

Argos turned and his anger died when he beheld what stood behind him. It was a human woman dressed in fetching summer clothes. He stared in disbelief, his eyes tracing the lines of her features and physique. Her hair was tightly curled in the manner of Africans, but platinum blond in color; large eyes, as blue as sapphires, looked upon Argos in smiling affection. Her features, like her body were of delicate appearance, and in them he saw Feasola, but now configured in the form of an earthly woman.

“Feasola,” he gasped in tremulous hope, not quite daring to believe.

“I heard all those words of love you spoke to me as I lay dying,” she replied in flawless English and quoted some as proof as she joyously ran to him.

It was some time before they broke their ardent embrace.

“How?” he managed to gasp at last. “Why wasn’t I told earlier? When you died before my eyes I was cast into such a deep pit of utter grief I thought I’d never come out of it.”

Entity intruded with an explanation: “I was fully occupied with the complex and delicate task of creating Feasola’s new body, extracting ‘her’ mind from ‘her’ old one and integrating her consciousness with the new. In addition I had to manufacture identity documents that would pass the scrutiny of your nation’s authorities.

“There wasn’t an opportunity to communicate with you, and also I needed time to recover from the exhausting task. Fortunately, Dejanna, Umara’s offspring, has also fully recovered from the injury you accidentally inflicted. Although no paragon of virtue Dejanna will be content to rule her nation and not invade another. The threat of war has passed.

“Both of you are free to return to Earth, where Feasola can survive as her new body is composed of matter drawn from your universe. You cannot stay here Jason. I cannot indefinitely protect your body from the inimical radiations of my cosmos. This is the only way that you and Feasola can be together.”

“Entity, I fear I’ve misjudged you in some ways,” admitted Argos, shamefacedly. Then to Feasola: “My world is very different. I want you to come, but I’m also worried you won’t be happy there. It is small, our Earth, and limited compared to this cosmos. My people cannot travel easily between the worlds, and what worlds we can travel to are lifeless globes unfit for habitation.”

“Entity has shown me something of your Earth,” she replied. “We have no glorious sunsets here, nor the blackness of night with its blaze of countless stars. The Earth has a beauty unique to it, one which I look forward to exploring with you. My parents are dead. There is nothing to hold me here.”

Argos smiled and took her hand. “When can we depart?” he asked Entity.

“Your eagerness indicates the time is now,” replied the being as a globe of light appeared before the couple. The glow wavered like a heat haze. It condensed. Its form changed. Color and texture appeared in strange transmutation, and in but moments before them appeared a prism of silver rods that stood vertically on a triangular base, the whole supported by tripod legs that projected from each corner and terminated in small globes. Argos instantly recognized it as the machine that had brought him across the dimensions to this strange cosmos.

The happy couple bid Entity farewell. They entered the mechanism. The prism began to glow. A pulsing vibration ran through the structure they stood within. A shimmering sheet of radiance formed between the open sides of the prism, sealing them within walls of light. The mechanism began to fade away into glowing swirling mist, and in but moments was gone, carrying its joyful passengers to a new life in another universe.

Entity, in its solitude, was also well content.

THE END