Author: Kirk Straughen
Synopsis: Jack Adams, a political prisoner convicted of sedition, is being transported to the penal colony of Eribis when a hyper-transit portal malfunction maroons him and his guards on an unknown world. Will they be able to overcome their enmity and unite against the dire perils of this primitive and hostile planet, or will they perish in ignominy? Only by reading this astounding story will you know.
Jack Adams gazed at the swirling nacreous mist of the hyper-transit portal, the strange gateway that could bridge a thousand light years, enabling stellar immensities to be crossed in but seconds. It was a marvel of space-time engineering, but one he couldn’t appreciate at the moment, for it would soon transport him to the penal colony on harsh and barren Eribis, where he’d spend the remainder of his days mining deadly xianite.
And his crime? Well, Adams didn’t consider exposing human rights abuses as a felony, but the far-right government that had come to power on his homeworld of Setris vehemently disagreed. He’d been arrested within an hour of his article being published, not online (censorship was too tight for that), but as firebrand posters pasted on the walls of buildings in the old-fashioned style of the philosophers of the Enlightenment.
Despite the disguise he’d worn, among other precautions, Adams had been hunted down. The Red Shirts, so called because of their crimson attire, had broken down the door of his flat in the middle of the night and violently dragged him before a regime-appointed judge. The trial had been a farce of justice. There was no jury. His lawyer was another government stooge, and so the verdict of “guilty of sedition” had been inevitable.
From the courtroom, a star chamber in reality, he’d been frog-marched to the adjacent hyper-transit portal, which had been constructed specifically for the transportation of prisoners, and here he now awaited his awful fate.
Still, he’d known the risks. The government had become more and more oppressive, and for Adams, things had reached a point where he could no longer remain a passive spectator to the wrongs being inflicted on the innocent. Had it been worth it? In all honesty the young man was not sure, but he’d felt compelled to do something to try and rouse the population from its frightened submissiveness.
A painful prod in the ribs brought Adams out of his introspection. “Get moving, scum,” harshly said one of his guards - a woman dressed in a crimson shirt, black trousers and matching boots. “The technicians have set the coordinates for Eribis. It’s time to go.”
The young man quickly glanced at the woman. She was full-figured and older than him, likely in her late twenties. Her features were somewhat masculine, and her tightly curled hair and dark skin suggested African ancestry.
Adams hid his anger and contempt for his captors behind a mask of controlled placidity. He rose from the bench and, flanked by the two guards, walked towards the transparent transit capsule, his wrist and ankle chains clinking as he moved. He felt like a condemned man going to the gallows, and considering the harsh conditions in the mining colony, death was a real possibility.
The module’s hatch opened in the manner of a gull-wing door and the trio stepped within. Once seated and safety harnesses secured, the door closed, and the transit capsule, levitated by magnetic fields, slid along its elevated rail towards the nacreous mist of the hyper-transit portal - a spinning disc which hung between two black pillars crawling with eerie emerald filaments of preternatural fire.
As soon as the module entered the centre of the whirlpool of swirling scintillating mist, Adams knew that something had gone horribly wrong. There was a terrible jarring sensation, as if every atom in his body was a brazen bell that had been forcefully struck. This was swiftly followed by a sickening falling sensation. Someone screamed in wild fear, then the blackness of unconsciousness engulfed him.
**********
Adams opened his eyes. For a moment, he lay disorientated, his bruised body aching from the battering it had received. He was still strapped into his seat, but the seat was no longer in the capsule. It lay in a large bush whose soft bluish leaves had broken his fall. The female guard was next to him, alive but insensible. There was no sign of her male partner, who had been strapped into the opposite seat.
The young man forced his shaken brain into coherency. Adams knew he had to act quickly while the advantage was his, so for the moment he put aside his curiosity as to where he was. Fortunately, his hands had been manacled in front of him, so it was a relatively easy task to remove the keys from the unconscious guard’s belt and free himself. Adams wasn’t normally a sadist, but he took great pleasure in placing the restraints on the woman, rendering her as helpless as he had been. She was a Red Shirt, a member of President Donaldson’s personal army of thugs known for their brutality in attacking opposition supporters and peaceful protesters.
Relieving her of her sidearm, he swiftly looked around for the woman’s male companion. The debris field of the shattered capsule lay scattered in the thick undergrowth of the strange forest. Tall trees, their interlocking crowns blotting out the sky, towered over Adams. The woodland, however, wasn’t gloomy - the leaves of the weird growths were translucent, almost like stained glass, tinting the scene with subtle hues. These leaves were fan-shaped in form, with sapphire veins, ruby centres and amber margins speckled with silver. The young man saw that some of the trees' slate-grey branches had been snapped to pieces where the transit capsule had plunged through them.
Adams glimpsed a small patch of red in the distance, illuminated by a shaft of light piercing the broken canopy. He waded towards it through the knee-high undergrowth, which consisted of plants with large heart-shaped leaves that were amethyst in colour with golden veins and undulating citrine margins. The young man’s fingers tightened on the sidearm’s grip, his face hard with determination. He didn’t want to kill, but if he was attacked by the guard he might have to. He came cautiously upon the male officer. There had been no soft bush to break his fall. The man was clearly dead.
Adams softened a little at the sight of the corpse. The dead man was about his own age, his life snuffed out by a freak accident of technology gone horribly wrong. But for luck it could have been him. Adams, sickened by the gory sight, controlled his revulsion, took the man’s sidearm and tucked it into his belt. He then turned away from the body and retraced his steps to find that the woman had regained consciousness, and was futilely struggling to free herself from the chains he had restrained her with.
Should he kill her? She was a Red Shirt, and cold logic suggested he do so, for the woman was his enemy, an instrument of the regime’s oppression which he had fought against. In this trackless wilderness only the law of the jungle reigned. But despite all this, Adams wasn’t a ruthless killer. Snuffing out the life of a chained and helpless woman was not in him. He would let her live despite the risks she might pose to him.
The woman looked up at his approach. For a second, she tensed in wild fear (something of his killer thoughts must have shown on his face), then erected a facade of bravado to hide her stomach churning terror.
“You’re in enough trouble as it is,” said the woman in an authoritative tone. “Free me at once, and I’ll overlook this assault on my person. Where is my fellow officer?”
“He is dead,” replied Adams, flatly.
She paled at this dreadful news and gazed at the gun in his hand. “You killed him,” she accused. “I should have known.”
“It was the fall that killed him,” replied Adams, annoyed by her unjust accusation. “Go arrest gravity if you like.”
The moment Adams uttered the sarcastic and callous remark, he regretted it. The realisation that they were trapped on this uncharted world with no chance of rescue had dawned on him. Accidents like the one that had befallen them were rare. But they happened, and no one had ever been rescued. They were on their own, lost on an unknown planet. Both needed to work together if they were to have any chance at all of survival.
“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologised. “I shouldn’t have said that. The hyper-transit portal has obviously malfunctioned. Clearly, this isn’t Eribis. I propose a truce,” he continued, tossing her the keys as a sign of his sincerity. “Free yourself. We’re marooned on this alien planet. We need to work together in order to survive. By the way, what’s your name?”
“Kathleen Urdis,” replied the woman as she unlocked the restraints. “And yes, I agree. Let us put aside our differences.”
The woman walked towards him, her hand extended in friendship. Adams accepted, only for her to violently jerk him off balance. She stepped in close and flung him across her hip. Adams cried out in pain as he hit the ground hard. He gasped again in agony as Kathleen restrained him with a judo-style arm lock.
“Do you think I’d co-operate with freethinker scum like you,” she snarled. “You and your kind represent everything I most despise.”
Adams cursed himself for being a naive fool. He’d counted on her seeing sense in his proposal, not realising the depth of her fanaticism, engendered by a diet of government propaganda. It was clear she was winding up for a proper rant, and would no doubt have continued. But a strange shadow suddenly passed over them, its presence cutting off her speech.
Kathleen looked up and gasped. Above them hovered a strange object of extraordinary appearance. The body was a tubby ovoid covered in silver scales. Two pairs of wings, much like those of a dragonfly, were located fore and aft. The body of the strange organic machine was about the size of a car, the wings much larger, but not so large that the weird vehicle couldn’t slip between the trunks of the towering trees. Four insect-like legs with feet roughly resembling human hands served as landing gear. The thing seemed a blend of the organic and the mechanical, for in the middle of the body was a cockpit occupied by two beings of indeterminate nature.
The strange vehicle swept swiftly down upon them. Kathleen fired. The ray from her sidearm struck the thing, but was harmlessly reflected by its mirror-bright scales. She screamed as the monster seized her with its hand-like feet and swiftly hoisted her high into the air.
Adams, with a shocked expression on his face, struggled to his feet and watched in open-mouthed helplessness as the screaming woman was swiftly carried away. The weird vehicle then shot through a gap in the forest’s canopy and disappeared from sight. So focused was the young man on this extraordinary turn of events that he failed to sense the other danger until it was suddenly upon him.
Something crashed against him. Powerful hand-like feet seized him, and it was his turn to wildly scream in pain and fear as he was hauled aloft by another of the strange organic flying machines. The ground disappeared beneath him, and in mere seconds, he was high above the trees, looking down in knifing terror at a forest made miniature by spine-tingling height.
With an effort, Adams managed to rein in his bolting fear. He took several deep, calming breaths and got a hold of himself. The monster’s grip was secure. He was in pain from its digging fingers, but not in danger of falling. He wondered what manner of beings had captured them and where they were bound. Adams began to think that Eribis’ harsh mining colony might be a paradise when compared to this outlandish world.
He looked around. Ahead, he could see the other organic machine carrying Kathleen. She hung limply in its grip. Despite her violent treachery, he hoped she wasn’t dead or badly injured. If she was, he’d be the only human in a world of alien monsters. Adams shuddered at the dreadful thought. He shifted his gaze to the thing that had seized him. Its wings beat so rapidly they were a humming blur of motion. Its body cut off the view of the creatures he was sure he’d seen riding in it. What manner of horrors were they? He couldn’t even begin to imagine. The only thing that seemed probable was that they were hostile.
The young man switched his attention to the lavender sky through which they swiftly flew. If anything, it was even more extraordinary than the organic machine that had seized him. The upper firmament was a mass of seething luminous bubbles that reminded Adams of boiling water, which merged and broke apart and merged again in ever-changing patterns. The young man was studying physics at university. No known natural laws could account for the startling phenomenon his amazed mind now perceived, and it dawned upon him that not only was he on an unknown world, but also in an entirely different reality which might radically and unnervingly differ in many ways from what he was familiar with.
An approaching sight drew Adams from his worrying speculations. Hundreds of columns of ebony rock, massive in height and diameter, and separated by miles from each other, were presented to his wondering gaze. The craggy formations rose up from the forest in towering masses, like the ossified trees of some Brobdingnagian primordial jungle fossilised by time. The weird conveyance carrying Kathleen veered towards the tallest of the natural pillars and Adams’ flyer quickly followed it.
As they neared the soaring pinnacle, the young man was amazed to see that its dizzy apex had been carved into a fantastic citadel of domes and spires, all ornamented with swirling arabesques richly painted in cold enamels of emerald, ruby and silver that stood out vividly against the blackness of the stone.
The machines carrying both humans descended towards a high-walled pentagonal structure at the margins of the glittering citadel. The flyers released them from a height of several feet and both tumbled to the enclosure’s sandy floor.
Adams rolled to his feet and looked warily around. His knees went weak with fear. The enclosure was full of other beings as powerful as gorillas in size and rough appearance. Their cold, serpentine eyes, three in all, locked upon him, bulging orbs as yellow as their scaly hides that were black-striped in the manner of a tiger. He and Kathleen were ringed by the brutes, who now moved menacingly towards them, their hawk-like beaks gaping wide to emit explosive hisses. Both guns had been lost when they had been violently seized, and now Adams and Kathleen faced these frightening horrors completely weaponless.
Kathleen screamed as one of the creatures lunged and seized her in its powerful grip. Adams instinctively raced to the woman’s aid. He hurled himself on the brute’s broad back, one arm flung about its thick neck, the other hand clawing at its bulging eyes. The beast shrilly screamed as his fingers dug in.
It released the woman. With a roar of rage and pain, it swiftly bent forward, violently rotating its massive shoulders. Adams was swiftly hurled over its head. He crashed to the sandy ground. The creature came at him, its brutal hands reaching to tear him limb from limb with primordial strength.
The Earthman fought through his pain. He lashed out with both feet, striking its knee with bone-shattering force. The monster howled. It fell to the earth, thrashing in agony. Adams scuttled clear of its flailing arms and got to his feet. The other creatures had paused their menacing advance, made hesitant by the Earthman’s unexpected victory. Adams yelled at them with all his might, violently waving his arms in the air as he leapt at them. The creatures slunk away in response, and he turned his attention to Kathleen.
The woman lay moaning from her injuries, ending Adams' relief at driving off their attackers. Her shirt and bra had been torn away by the creature’s clawing grip, exposing her large breasts. He could see her bare torso was badly bruised from the monster’s pawing hands. Adams, who was not so callous as to be unmoved by the suffering of an enemy, raced to her side and began an examination of her hurts.
“My ribs,” she gasped as he carefully explored her injuries. “I think one has been broken.”
A flash of movement seized Adam’s attention, cutting off his reply. He looked up, tensely expecting another attack from the ape-like monsters. But instead a gate had opened in the enclosure’s wall, and a strange silver vehicle was coming through it.
The scaly organic machine was much like a Hawaiian canoe in shape. But in this case, the device had six insectile legs as a means of locomotion. In the front was a humanoid being manipulating the conveyance’s controls. What the creature truly looked like was impossible to know, for it was clad head to toe in segmented armour whose colour and texture reminded Adams of a crab’s carapace. Behind this being were five others of its kind identically attired.
Adams, heart racing, got slowly to his feet, wondering how he was going to deal with this new threat. He’d defeated the gorilla-like creature, but that was just an animal. These beings were obviously intelligent, and therefore far more dangerous than his former brutish opponents. He decided not to make any rash moves. Kathleen was injured. She needed medical attention.
“What are they?” gasped Katherine as she tried to rise, only to slump back moaning in pain.
“Take it easy,” replied Adams as he knelt worriedly beside her. She was a hated Red Shirt, but she was still a human being. “If you move you’ll aggravate your injury. Let’s keep calm. They don’t appear hostile at the moment.”
These words were easier said than done.
Adams tensely rose as the strange machine pulled up several yards away. The device knelt in the manner of a camel and the armour-clad beings stepped out. They were armed with heavy spiked maces of organic appearance, and their gauntlets were spiked in the manner of a knuckleduster. Adams knew one blow from either weapon would be sufficient to instantly finish him. The Earthman gasped in shock as the warriors drew near. Now he was able to get a better look at them. What he’d initially thought was armour was in fact their natural integument, which up close was reminiscent of the scaly hide of a pangolin.
The head was shaped like the helmet of a Gothic suit of armour. What Adams thought was a visor was in fact the creature’s featureless face. The dark eyes were recessed into bony slits. The leader of the creatures, identified by an emerald-like gemstone attached to its forehead, spoke, adding to the Earthman’s shock, for it did so in English.
“Your companion is injured,” it said in a flat metallic accent. “She will be taken to our medical facility. You will come with us.”
Kathleen, who now also fully realised the truly alien nature of their captors, cried out to Adams in desperation as the six creatures surrounded them, her need for human contact in the face of the alien overcoming her enmity towards him:
“Don’t leave me alone with these things,” she wildly shouted as she tried to struggle to her feet in utter panic.
One being quickly knelt and pressed a ring-like device on its finger to the moaning woman’s brow. She sank back unconscious at its touch. Adams, spurred by concern, leapt forward, only to be firmly grasped by several other creatures. He struggled fiercely, hurling one assailant to the ground. He struck another in blind instinct, only to badly bruise his knuckles on its keratin armour. Then the rest were swiftly on him, and he was felled violently by overwhelming numbers.
‘Resistance is futile,” said the leader of the squad as the young man was hauled to his feet. “You will come with us.”
Adams fought to regain his composure as he was dragged away. He managed a quick glance behind him. Two beings were lifting the unconscious woman into their strange conveyance. He turned to the leader of his captors, a hundred questions crowding his whirling mind.
“Will she be all right? Will I see her again? How is it that you speak English?”
“We are familiar with your kind. She will be well cared for. Occasionally, some of your people arrive on Jemdar, our world - the victims of malfunctioning hyper-transit portals. We capture those we find, or buy them from other cities such as Tatgan, should they find them first. If you perform well in the games, you may be allowed to see her again, and possibly even mate with her.
“The best human males are used as breeding stock to produce more slaves. That is why you were dropped among the ugari - the creatures that attacked you. It was a test of your fitness and intelligence in dealing with the threat. Although you are not heavily muscled, with proper training I see the potential for you to become a master gladiator and fight in the battle-rituals of Nagoth, the god of our city of Shemhet.”
Adams was left speechless by this shocking revelation. His captors possessed advanced technology, but they owned slaves and had gladiatorial games as part of their sacred rituals. The contradiction between the advanced and the primitive was difficult for him to comprehend.
They moved out of the enclosure and began walking along a broad avenue lined with trees similar to those of the forest, but not as tall. Everywhere Adams looked, he saw beings like those of his captors. Scattered among them were half-naked humans, both men and women, pulling carts laden with goods of unknown type. It appeared that the organic machines were not widely available to the population, and hence the need for slaves as beasts of burden in the absence of draft animals.
The young man turned his attention to the city’s layout. The metropolis had been planned in the form of a series of circular concentric terraces that climbed the dizzy height of the towering formation, each ring of buildings accessed by many broad staircases. There were three ring terraces in all, each representing the upper, middle, and lower-class divisions of society, with the ruler and his nobles being at the pinnacle.
The buildings themselves displayed an amazing variety of forms, none being exactly alike. Domes and spires were common features, as were circular doorways and windows. The structures, ornamented with swirling arabesques richly painted in cold enamels of emerald, ruby and silver, were all united by connecting colonnades running the length of their ornate facades. At the peak of the massive rock column was the huge palace of the ruler - a multi-storey structure whose entire exterior had been gilded in a malleable opalescent metal.
But this grand building was not their destination. Adams and his captors halted before the doorway to another structure, whose guarded entrance and fortified portal lent a prison-like appearance to its architecture. The guards at the portal let them pass, and they entered the building, which extended back into the rock face it abutted.
Passing through the vestibule, they entered a large subterranean area illuminated by glowing octagonal rock crystals set in the high ceiling, which shed an amber light on the scene. In the open space, Adams saw human gladiators practising their fighting skills. Some wrestled, while others battled with shields and hardwood fighting sticks. All looked as tough as nails - the products of their alien masters’ inhuman breeding programme.
A mezzanine ran around the walls of the circular chamber, and upon it were the gladiators' alien guards, armed with weapons resembling powerful crossbows, carefully observing the fighters at their work. Adams’ captors led him towards a human male who also observed the men at training. The man was tall and powerfully built. He turned, sensing their approach. Adams saw his brutish features and body were heavily scarred from numerous fights, and the young man sensed he was every bit as vicious as he looked.
“Marcus,” said the leader of Adams’ captors. “We have a new slave for you to train. He shows potential. The games will be held in thirty sleeps. Have him ready as quickly as you can.”
And with that, the aliens departed.
“Potential, hey?” sneered Marcus as he looked Adams' slim athletic physique up and down with disdain. “Well, I always like to test the mettle of my trainees.”
To prove his point, he swiftly swung a wild blow at the lightly built young man.
Adams’ quick reflexes saved him. He ducked and felt the brute’s fist stir his hair. The young man swiftly drove a punch into his opponent’s belly. Marcus grunted, swung again, his knuckles grazing Adam’s cheek as the young man dodged the streaking blow. Adams lashed out with a kick. Marcus caught his leg, grinning sadistically as he heaved violently. The young man crashed to the floor. His opponent, a wild, gleeful cry bursting from his throat, leapt. Adams rolled aside and Marcus’ feet slammed down where his head had been. The young man scrambled up and evaded another savage haymaker. His sweeping leg knocked his opponent’s foot out from under him, and it was Marcus’ turn to crash upon hard stone.
Swiftly, Adams stepped close and delivered a solid rabbit punch, rendering his brutal opponent instantly unconscious. For a moment he stood gazing at his downed foe, grateful he’d had a good self-defence instructor, and that he’d kept his skills in form. Luckily, Marcus had little science to his fighting, relying on brute strength and a bull’s rush to down his opponents. But though this threat had passed, it might herald others.
The young man looked around worriedly for additional signs of danger. No indications of impending violence met his darting eyes. The alien guards had remained passive throughout the fight. As he later learnt, the only time they’d intervene was if an escape attempt was being made. The other gladiators had stopped their practice to watch the brawl. Some looked pleased with the outcome, while others hid their feelings behind facades of hard indifference. Adams tensed, expecting more trouble as one of the burly fighters approached him.
“A good fight,” grunted the beefy fellow, a broad grin splitting his rough pugnacious features as he looked at the unconscious gladiator. “I’m Basur. It’s nice to see that boastful fool laid low for once.” Then he sobered. “But I think that in the long run it may have been better for you if you’d lost. Marcus is an unforgiving fellow. He takes great pride in his brawling. He’ll want revenge on you for having humiliated him in front of everyone.”
**********
Adams stood on the sandy floor of the arena, breathing heavily. The last of his three opponents lay unconscious at his feet, thanks to his existing combat skills being further honed by a rigorous training regimen. He stepped back as human slaves ran forward and quickly stretchered the insensible gladiator from the battle circle.
The young man looked up, his grim gaze scanning the crowd of aliens. Anger filled him at the sight of those who found pleasure in the suffering of others. These games were just as brutal as those of ancient Rome, but they differed in not being open to the public. The beings attending were mostly priests of the city’s esoteric cult, along with high-ranking members of Shemhet’s nobility. The arena was similar to a miniature stadium, with its concentric rows of tiered bleachers.
Adams’ eyes shifted to the hideous idol of Nagoth, the city’s mysterious divinity in whose honour the tournament was being held. Its body took the form of the aliens. The face, however, was something else entirely. Adams would never have believed that stone could be carved into such nightmarish malevolence had he not laid eyes on the surreal horror. He shuddered at the sight of its unwholesome visage.
The unnerving statue, four times the height of a man and sculpted from a jade green mineral, stood on a black plinth at the edge of the enclosing wall, overlooking the arena, its single eye - a huge lucid gem - glittered ominously in the weird light of the seething luminous sky. To the left of the idol were the senior priests and to the right was Hokkuth, Shemhet’s ruler, identifiable by the opalescent gilding that covered the entirety of his chitinous integument. He saw Kathleen among the half-naked human slaves attending the gaudy ruler. She looked unharmed, and he was relieved to see that her injuries had been treated. Adams wondered if she recognised him, and what she was thinking.
The rattle of chains ended Adams’ speculations, and drew his gaze to the far end of the arena. His heart quickened. The main event was about to commence, and he was to be a part of the gory spectacle, which was held once every grand cycle. He silently cursed Marcus. Lots were drawn to select the unfortunate victims for the finale of the games, but rumour had it that things had been rigged so he would be amongst the chosen. The brute had found a way of having his revenge.
Adams pushed aside these dark thoughts. In but moments he would be battling for his life. The clanking chains ceased their rattle. The portcullis was now fully open, and a nightmarish creature wriggled forth from the darkness of its pen. Kathleen gasped in fear at the horrific sight.
Adams paled a little when he saw the horror that had emerged from its lair. The creature was like a giant pallid worm, slimy and nauseating in form. It must have measured at least thirty feet in length and four feet in diameter. The head resembled that of a squid. Large, staring black eyes gazed upon Adams with mindless savagery. Writhing tentacles formed its mouth-parts. The creature stank like an open sewer.
It wriggled towards him with serpentine swiftness, and all he had to defend himself with was a hardwood fighting stick and a leather buckler. Adams knew that timidity wasn’t an option in the face of such a horror. He charged the brute in an apparently suicidal move.
But there was a method to his seeming madness. Adams vaulted as the tentacles that formed the creature’s mouth-parts lashed out to ensnare him. He sailed above the slimy beast, striking down with his fighting stick in a savage blow. Hardwood slammed against the horror’s eye. A foghorn-like explosion of agony burst from its fetid throat. The monster convulsed in torment.
Adams landed on its back, but slipped on the monster’s slimy skin as it madly writhed. The creature’s violent movement flung him to the ground. He fell hard and lay stunned. Kathleen watched in fear, her knuckles white against her lips, as the monster turned murderously on its downed opponent.
The young man fought through his pain. He staggered up and tried to leap aside. But it was too late. The tentacles whipped about his torso, hauled him towards the monster’s gaping fang-lined maw. He was nearly overpowered by its foul stench. Adams, his strength fuelled by wild desperation, struck again at its injured eye with his fighting stick. The vicious stabbing blow deeply penetrated.
Nauseous fluid gushed from the wound. The horror stiffened. Adams gasped in pain as the tentacles squeezed him like the coils of a boa constrictor in a pain-induced spasm. The creature went limp just as Adams thought his ribs were about to splinter. The young man, battered, bruised and gasping for breath, managed to struggle free of the creature's flaccid grip. He staggered away from the dead horror; then his legs gave way, and he collapsed face down upon the sand, oblivious to the consternation of the crowd who were shocked by his unexpected victory.
**********
An hour had passed since Adams’ surprise triumph over the azal, the horrid monster that he had slain. The young man, now recovered, stood in line with the twelve surviving gladiators from the earlier matches of the day - bouts that were preludes to the main event in which he had been involved.
Hokkuth, Shemhet’s ruler, stood before them protected by a contingent of his personal bodyguards. The alien was reading from a list of names - those gladiators who had distinguished themselves in combat. Adams heard Marcus’ name being called. The young man gave his enemy a hard look as the brute stepped forward. Then it was Adam’s turn to be summoned, and he joined the six other elite fighters who had been selected.
Guards led them from the spartan room, which was part of a complex of buildings that served the games and abutted the arena. They moved down a wide pillared corridor and soon emerged into another room where a dozen naked female slaves had been herded. Some looked frightened; others wore blank expressions of fatalistic resignation. Adams saw that Kathleen was among the group, and like the rest was clearly not eager to be there.
A guard spoke: “As a reward for the excellence of your combat, each of you can choose a female for your pleasure for a period of one night. You may now commence your selection.”
As the grinning gladiators moved forward, Adams hung back. He wasn’t a rapist, and wanted no part of the sordid brutality that was about to occur. The young man saw Marcus make a beeline for Kathleen. With her somewhat mannish features she wasn’t the prettiest of those present, but her DD-cup breasts were the largest of all the girls, and this attribute was obviously the brute’s preference, because he went for her like a guided missile to its target.
Kathleen cringed at his swift approach. Although better, she still had not fully recovered from the severe bruising the ape-like ugari had given her. She was not in a condition for sex even if she had desired it. Marcus was a large and rough man, as evidenced by his leering look and the sadistic, broken-toothed grin he gave her.
“Get away from me,” she cried as he made a grab for her, only to crash upon the floor as Adams swiftly kicked him behind the knee.
“No you don’t,” he snapped. “Clear off. This woman comes with me.”
Marcus got to his feet and glared at Adams with wild hatred. This was an additional humiliation to his earlier defeat. At this thought, the fingers of the brute’s beefy hands curved into the talons of a savage beast. With a roar of animal rage he lunged at his rival, murderous hands darting for the young man’s throat. Adams ducked, caught the brute about the waist with both arms and hurled him to the floor with a Graeco-Roman wrestling throw.
The brute roared in pain and fury. Adams got a chokehold on him, cutting off the savage cry. Marcus tensed the corded muscles of his bull-like neck. Powered by sheer vitality, he staggered up and grabbed his opponent’s constricting arm. With brute strength fuelled by utter fury, he broke the hold as if Adams were merely a child, then hurled the younger man across his hip and to the floor.
Adams was down but not out. Marcus was bent over from the throw. His face was an easy target. Adams thrust the fingers of his right hand into Marcus’ eye as the enraged gladiator reached to strangle him. The brute howled and staggered away. Adams lurched erect, kicked his opponent’s leg out from under him. Marcus crashed to the floor. Adams swiftly kicked him in the head, and the fight was over.
Seeing his opponent was unconscious, Adams quickly looked around with a wild expression on his face. No one had intervened. The slave-girls huddled in a frightened group. The guards, by contrast, seemed content to enjoy the spectacle, as had the other gladiators. Disputes over women were not uncommon, and the alien warriors were content to allow the men to settle matters through combat.
Adams relaxed as the head guard spoke. “The matter is resolved. The women have been chosen. You will follow us.”
Kathleen tensed and gave Adams a defiant look as he approached her. In the absence of constant indoctrinating anti-libertarian propaganda, her stance towards him had begun to soften as her innate humanity had come to the fore. Consequently, she had felt sorry for him when she had seen him in the arena, for it was a cruel and horrid death that he faced. But now her attitude had hardened once again. He had claimed her for himself, and was going to cruelly use her like the other brutes whose base desires he shared.
The young man, unaware of her thoughts, remained silent. A plan had formed in his mind, but too many ears were listening for him to reveal it now, nor did he reassure Kathleen that he meant her no harm. The other gladiators were descendants of the humans marooned on Jemdar. They’d been born into brutal dehumanising slavery and had been affected by it. It was a case of the abused becoming abusers. These rough and savage men would think his gentleness a sign of weakness. No, if he displayed any indication of that he knew they’d be at his throat like a pack of savage wolves.
Their guards led them from the room in silence, and they passed down another corridor lined with open doors. Each of the couples was ushered into a cell. The door was closed and bolted behind them.
Kathleen tensely turned on Adams. “Injured though I am, I’ll claw your eyes out if you so much as lay a finger on me,” she spat in vicious warning.
Adams, who had his ear pressed to the door, listening to ensure the guards had left, looked at her with a hurt expression. “Kathleen, I know we have our political differences. We’re both on opposite sides of the fence, but that doesn’t mean I’m an evil person. The situation here for humans is terrible. We’ve got to do something about it. If we pool our knowledge we might be able to find an answer to the problem.”
“You mean you’re not going to abuse me?”
The young man looked at her, appalled. “Why would I do that?” he said, shock evident in his voice.
Kathleen sank to the floor, vastly relieved. The tension drained from her, and she began to wildly sob, her body shaking as her pent-up emotions were at last released with the passing of the greatly feared danger, for she thought Adams would seek revenge on her - an act of displaced aggression for his mistreatment at the hands of the brutal government she supported. Clearly, he was not the kind of person she'd thought him to be, and she was not about to suffer further sexual violence.
Adams knelt beside her. “What’s wrong,” he asked concernedly, guessing something of the truth. “Have you been … harmed?”
“Not by men,” she managed to say. “I’m part of the female slave group that serves Hokkuth, Shemhet’s ruler. We are largely isolated from the men. Hokkuth fears assassination, and he knows human women are less violent than human males. The women, in their loneliness, turn to each other for comfort and affection. But I am not that way. I refused their advances. But they held me down, forced me to do things. I couldn’t fight them off … it was horrible!”
Again, Kathleen burst out into wild sobs at the vivid memory of the terrible experience. She did not push Adams away as he held her, but rather wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly, taking comfort in his understanding presence. Adams had feared a similar experience befalling him. Fortunately, he had avoided it so far. With a grim face, the young man held her until she quietened, which took some time.
Eventually, Kathleen wiped the tears from her eyes and face, and spoke. “You mentioned something about trying to solve the situation here. I assume you mean a revolution, the overthrow of our alien masters and the freeing of all human slaves.”
“I think it’s the only way,” he said. “Do you have any ideas how this might be accomplished? I have been imprisoned in a gladiatorial training school, and have been taught little else but brutal fighting. I really do not know a great deal about the society of our captors.”
“I’ve been thinking along similar lines also,” replied Kathleen. She gave him a wry smile. “I never thought I’d go from a Red Shirt to a revolutionary.” Then she soberly continued: “There might be one slim chance, and it hinges on the superstitions that I think make these beings vulnerable. As you know, they offer sacrifices to Nagoth, their god, by way of gladiatorial combat. The Shemhets believe that their divinity derives its strength from the spirits of the strongest warriors, imprisoning them within the idol’s single crystalline eye, which acts as a kind of occult battery. According to their religion, if the eye is shattered these spirits will escape and take revenge on the city’s inhabitants.
“The Shemhets have a great fear of spirits, especially malevolent ones. If we could find a way to break the eye of the idol, I believe it would cause such terror that in the chaos, it might be possible to free the gladiators and incite them to attack the palace. If we capture Hokkuth, Shemhet’s ruler, we could force him to free the slaves.”
“The idol must be heavily guarded,” replied Adams, thoughtfully. “We’ll also need to devise a plan to overcome that obstacle.”
“It isn’t specifically guarded,” advised Kathleen. “No Shemhet would even think about desecrating the sacred image of their god, let alone actually smashing the eye and bringing doom on themselves and their loved ones. The human slaves would like to do it, but we are all locked in at night. The Shemhets consider their city patrols sufficient protection during the hours of darkness.”
“Then all we need to do is get out of here," he replied, relieved that Kathleen’s attitude towards him had changed from hostility to one of collaboration. But did it go beyond the mere self-interest of the moment? Had she truly renounced her far-right views? Adams knew he had to put aside his doubts or they would paralyse all action. He had to take a chance on her sincerity.
“But first we have to escape this cell,” murmured Adams as he looked around the confines of their prison. His roving gaze settled on a barred window, and he rose to examine it. Hope flared within him. The bars were solid, but the mortar holding the corner one in place was crumbling, for the city was extremely ancient, being old when the pyramids were young.
Adams seized the metal rod and heaved. His muscles, built up by hard training, swelled with the effort as he strained with all his might. The young man braced a foot against the wall. Sweat from his tremendous exertions freely flowed, but it was useless. The mortar, despite its decay, defied his best efforts to break its hold upon the bar.
The young man, dejected, leant heavily against the wall, breathing hard. “It’s no use,” he gasped. “If only I had a little more strength. Then I’m sure I could pull that rod free.”
“Don’t give up,” encouraged Kathleen. “Catch your breath and I’ll add my strength to yours. Then, perhaps we’ll succeed.”
“But your injuries haven’t fully healed,” he objected.
“Nonetheless I shall do it,” she firmly replied.
Once more, Adams strove against the imprisoning bar, but this time aided by Kathleen. The young man could see his companion was in considerable pain, but nonetheless she gave her all to the demanding task. Both heaved mightily for what seemed like an eternity of desperate struggle. At last, the mortar began to crumble. The sight fuelled the couple’s flagging strength. They redoubled their efforts. The bar shifted, and with a final pull, was torn free of its embedding matrix.
Gasping, sweat-streaked and breathless, both carefully lowered the heavy rod to the floor. Some noise had been created as they’d ripped it out, but hopefully not enough to alert their enemies.
“That was probably the easy part,” said Adams as he wiped the sweat from his face. "Now for the idol and, hopefully, freedom.”
“Help me out the window,” requested Kathleen as she slumped to the floor, the effort having exacerbated her partially healed injuries. “I shan't stay here and become the sexual plaything of brutish men and women. Besides, I know of a way into the palace. When we’ve smashed the gem you’ll need me as a guide.”
Adams didn’t argue. He helped her up, assisted her to squeeze her generous figure through the remaining bars and then swiftly followed, taking the bar they had torn free with him as a weapon. It was now the equivalent of night. The strangely glowing heavens had dimmed to a soft mauve radiance about as bright as starshine. The escapees stood in a small courtyard. A fountain bubbled, its arching fluid gleaming like mercury in the dim light.
“This way,” urged Adams as he sighted the shadowed bulk of the arena rising majestically into the night sky. They moved off, scurrying from one pool of dark shadow to another through the slumbering city’s streets. The unnerving tramp of feet made them dart into a grimy alley, and there they waited in tense and breathless silence as the night watch strode on by.
Onward to the temple they went, arriving at their destination after narrowly evading other night patrols. At last, the horrid idol stood before them. Adams craned his neck as he focused his gaze on the statue’s single gemstone eye, which shone weirdly in the dim light coming from the softly glowing sky.
Adams thrust the rod through the belt of the kilt-like garment he was wearing. He needed both hands free to climb the idol, as its glittering eye was too high for him to reach. But no sooner had he set himself to the task than a squad of alien warriors burst forth from the shadows with Marcus in the lead.
“There they are,” shouted the perfidious gladiator. “See, I spoke the truth when I told you I overheard their plans.”
Adams cursed. Unbeknownst to him, the treacherous swine had occupied the adjacent cell. Utterly alone, not distracted by a woman, he’d heard everything they’d said and, when they’d left, had drawn the guards with his hollering, and thus betrayed them to his masters to curry favour.
Adams cursed. There was no way he could reach the eye before the charging warriors cut him down. He drew back his arm and hurled the rod at the huge gemstone. The rod crashed against the statue’s head, narrowly missing the glittering crystal. The bar fell. Adams swore as he caught it. The rod had nearly tumbled out of reach into the arena.
The warriors shouted wildly as they charged, desperate to stop the Earthman. They all knew what would happen if the eye of the sacred effigy was shattered. A crossbow bolt crashed against stone, narrowly missing Adam’s head. It spurred his frantic efforts.
As he raised his arm to throw again, another bolt slashed the limb. With a cry of pain, he dropped the metal bar. Quickly, Kathleen snatched up the fallen rod and hurled it with all her strength. Her aim was true. The gemstone shattered loudly under the violent impact of hard metal. Crystal shards flew everywhere.
The charging warriors stumbled to a halt, gripped by utter terror. Natural luminous vapours swirled up from the shattered gemstone. But in the eyes of the guards it was a frightening sign that the spirits imprisoned within the crystal had been freed. The vengeful dead were about to descend upon them in dire retribution. Beset by superstitious terror, all cast aside their weapons and fled away, shouting raucous warnings that shrilly pierced the stillness of the night.
Only Marcus remained. Not sharing their beliefs he wasn’t terrified. Rage overcame him. His plans for vengeance had been foiled, as had the hope of reward for his betrayal. The wrathful gladiator snatched up a warrior’s discarded mace and charged Adams in a wild state of utter fury.
Adams ducked and Marcus’ savage swing cut air. The young man drove his fist into his opponent's groin. Marcus gasped in agony. The mace flew from his weakened grip. Adams caught his foe and heaved him up above his head with a surge of potent strength. The gladiator screamed as the Earthman flung the traitor head first to the arena’s floor. The crack of his breaking neck was disturbingly audible.
Adams tore his gaze from the bloody corpse. “We must move swiftly,” he announced as Kathleen ripped a strip of cloth from his garment and with it bound the shallow wound upon his arm. “The five remaining gladiators with the women are the nearest, and being survivors of the games are the best. We’ll free them and then onward to the palace.”
Kathleen agreed, and the couple swiftly left the arena. As they moved quickly but carefully along the city’s streets, both jumped as the brassy boom of an alarm gong shattered the stillness of the night. The fleeing warriors, encountering a night patrol, had fearfully alerted them to what had happened.
The alarm, booming from a high tower, was specific - only sounded in the event of the idol’s eye being broken. First came disbelief, then panic began to swiftly spread throughout the metropolis, which was aroused by the continuous clangor of the gong that was quickly joined by others at various points around the city.
Those who had access to flying machines bundled their panicked families aboard and fled. The poor scrambled to find their protective amulets. Some cowered in their homes. But most immediately fled, choking the streets with their wild rush, trampling upon each other as they madly raced for the broad winding staircases that spiralled down to the earth far below. From here they would flee through the forest to other cities.
Others, driven by mindless terror, drank poison or hurled themselves from high balconies, seeking a swift end rather than the brutal torments of the vengeful dead. The air was rent by panicked screams and the cries of the injured. By the time Adams and Kathleen had reached their destination, delayed by the wild stampede of fleeing citizens, the city was in utter chaos.
They arrived at the cells containing the imprisoned gladiators without resistance. The guards had fled, leaving only the weapons they had cast aside - useless against the vengeful ghosts of those sacrificed to dark Nagoth. It was a simple matter to slide back the heavy bolts of the cell doors and free the prisoners.
“We must go to the palace and capture Hokkuth, Shemhet’s ruler,” explained Adams to the gladiators. “The entire city is in disarray. This might be the only chance for freedom that we’ll get.”
“Why bother?” challenged one burly fighter as he peered cautiously out of a window. “Our masters are fleeing. Soon the city will be empty. Besides, the streets are choked with fear-crazed mobs. How will we force passage through that chaos and not be trampled? No, I would rather force passage between the thighs of the comely slave girl I’ve chosen. What say the rest of you?” he asked his fellow gladiators.
Kathleen quickly interjected: “The nobles don’t travel through the streets where they’d be jostled by the common heard,” she explained. “Instead, they travel by subterranean passageways reserved for their use only. Normally, these would be heavily guarded. But now I doubt they’d be protected. I know the way, having been brought here from the palace.”
“Go play the hero if you must,” responded another fighter. “As Tybor said: our foes are fleeing, and I’ll not risk getting killed on the verge of victory, which appears to be taking care of itself.”
The other gladiators nodded in agreement and returned to their cells and their women. Adams cursed their stupidity. Victory was close, true, but not certain.
Kathleen placed a hand on his shoulder.“Leave them,” she counselled. “They are base lowbrows who can think no further than the satisfaction of their lusts. Follow me. I will show you the underground passageway to the palace. We’ve wasted enough time on these fools.”
They armed themselves with the guards' discarded weapons and left the room at a run. Kathleen led Adams along a passageway that ended in descending stairs. Down the treads they raced, and then along a deserted corridor. No warriors were in sight; only scattered weapons indicated where they once stood guard. The passageway began to climb towards the palace, and after about fifteen minutes they reached the ascending stairs that signalled the couple’s arrival at their destination.
Here, they paused to catch their breath, and Kathleen further explained. “Hokkuth is quite religious. If he hasn’t already fled, he is probably praying at his private shrine during this time of crisis. We’ll look there first.”
Having regained their vigour, the couple swiftly ascended the stairs and soon entered the palace proper. The place was deserted, and there were obvious signs of looting as panicked nobles had grabbed what they could before fleeing. Kathleen quickly led Adams along empty corridors and through vacant rooms towards the heart of the sprawling building. Shortly, they arrived before an ornately carved door of bronze-like timber that was partially ajar. Adams peered cautiously within. He saw Hokkuth alone and kneeling before a smaller statue of Nagoth. But the alien ruler wasn’t praying. A secret door in the idol’s plinth was open, and the alien ruler was about to grasp the hand-wheel of the valve which it concealed.
Adams sensed danger. He slipped into the room, ready to stealthily attack the humans’ brutal chief oppressor. Hokkuth spun around as the slight sound of Adams’ footstep alerted him to the presence of an intruder.
“You,” he cried in rage, recognising Adams by the distinctive red coloration of his hair. “The very human who my warriors said desecrated our god and unleashed evil upon Shemhet. But we will have our revenge,” he snarled. “When I turn the hand-wheel of this valve, it will flood the cell of every human slave in the city with poison gas. They will die in agony, and thus Nagoth and my people will be avenged.”
Adams cursed. In desperation, he hurled his mace as Hokkuth lunged for the valve’s hand-wheel. The king glimpsed the speeding danger. Instinctively, he threw himself aside, and the whirling weapon crashed against the plinth, shattering stone with the violence of its mighty impact. Kathleen tossed Adams her weapon as Hokkuth scrambled up. The Earthman charged him with a savage battle cry. The king foully swore. He freed his own mace and swung wildly at his racing opponent the moment he was within range. Adams blocked the frightful blow, its brutal force nearly causing him to fall.
Hokkuth was far stronger than the Earthman. In an instant Kathleen could see that Adams was in serious trouble. She dashed for the cast weapon that lay near the idol’s plinth as the two combatants surged around the room in a wild fight of swiftly swinging blows. She snatched up the mace and raced towards the battling duo as a vicious blow of savage strength sent Adams' weapon flying from his hand.
Hokkuth swung his mace with an exultant victory cry. Kathleen gasped in knifing fear. But Adams swiftly ducked beneath the streaking weapon and flung himself on the king in a bruising tackle that brought him crashing to the floor. The two brawlers grappled wildly. But the king possessed the greater strength. His hands grasped Adams' neck in a brutal stranglehold that began to choke the life from him.
Kathleen leapt towards the pair, her mace swinging in a savage arc. Hokkuth caught sight of her swift attack. His up-flung hands caught the speeding weapon’s haft. Kathleen stumbled as with savage strength the king tore it from her grasp. But by this act he’d released the constricting pressure on Adam’s throat, and the Earthman managed to thrust his fingers into Hokkuth’s eye.
The king howled in agony, dropped the mace. Kathleen recovered her balance. She grabbed the fallen weapon. Hokkuth fought through his agony. He kicked her in the shins - a blow that sent her crashing to the floor. The king scrambled up. He dashed for the valve intending to flood the slaves' cells with deadly gas. His hands grasped the wheel in dark triumph. But his sense of victory was premature. Adams hurled the mace. The whirling weapon struck Hokkuth’s head - a fatal shattering blow that dropped him dead upon the tiles.
Adams, breathing hard from the fight, helped Kathleen to her feet.
"'It’s over,” he gasped. “We’ve won. Thank God for that.”
**********
Thirty-six sleeps had passed. Adams sat in the palace’s administrative wing reviewing the reports on the reorganisation of the city, now reduced to a population of 3,521 humans after all the native Shemhetians had fled, never to return as the city was now considered as cursed by them. Things were progressing well. The aliens had relied heavily on human slaves to administer the metropolis and also as labourers while they led lives of indolent ease. Fortuitously, there were enough skilled workers in all fields to keep things functioning.
The young man put down the reports and rubbed his tired eyes. Elections would be held in another twenty-five sleeps, and he was looking forward to relinquishing his challenging duties as interim ruler of Shemhet. Since he and Kathleen had been the only ones free, it had been a relatively easy task to release the human slaves from the cells in which they were imprisoned during the sleep period, and as Adams and Kathleen had been instrumental in their liberation, it was only natural that the freed chattels would look to them as leaders.
The administrative slaves of the former king’s government had been one of Adams’ biggest concerns, for he feared that they might attempt to seize power and impose another form of tyranny. Most, however, seemed too grateful to him and Kathleen for their newfound freedom to attempt a coup. Human nature being what it is, a few may have harboured such ambitions, but were smart enough to sense the mood of the population and know that they were outnumbered. No one wanted further despotism after having so recently gained their freedom.
His second concern, something that had lingered at the back of his mind throughout his experiences, had been Kathleen herself. She was a Red Shirt, a member of President Donaldson’s personal army of thugs known for their brutality in attacking those who supported democracy and human rights - the very things he was now trying to establish.
But his concerns that Kathleen was planning to undermine his efforts in some way proved to be unfounded, much to his relief. No longer being under the influence of the regime’s propaganda had allowed her to think for herself. This, and her terrible experience of enslavement and having her basic rights trampled on, something she’d never encountered before as a favoured insider, had forcefully brought home to her how wrong she had been in supporting Donaldson and his brutal authoritarian government.
These thoughts turned his mind to his home planet of Setris. Had his efforts there roused the people? Had he inspired them to overthrow tyranny? Sadly, he’d never know. Perhaps his consolation would be democracy’s success on this new world.
A hand on his shoulder brought Adams out of his ruminations. He smiled when he saw it was Kathleen. Returning his smile, she slipped onto his lap, and he placed his arm around her waist. The nature of their relationship had also changed, for Kathleen had been able to heal from the trauma of the sexual abuse inflicted upon her by the women, now punished for their crimes.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“About how glad I’ll be when someone else takes over my role,” he honestly replied.
“You might win,” she pointed out.
“My name isn’t on the list of candedates,” said Adams, puzzled by her statement.
“It is now.”
“What?” he gasped in astonishment. “How?”
“I did a survey,” Kathleen explained. “Most people think you’ve proved yourself the best person for the job, so I had your name added to the list of candedates.”
Adams opened his mouth to protest, but Kathleen pressed her finger to his lips, silencing his objections.
“Sometimes the best person for a position of authority is the person who least desires it,” she said. “Believe me, I’ve seen what the lust for power can do. I know it’s an onerous task, but you won’t have to face the challenges alone. I’ll be by your side and you have my full support along with that of many other good people.”
“Well,” said Adams, his anxiety lessening. “Since you put it like that I feel better.”
Kathleen kissed him.
“That also helps,” he grinned.
Both laughed. Each knew there would be challenges ahead, but together they would face them, and through this unity, both felt confident that the problems, no matter how bad, would be overcome.
THE END