Author: Kirk Straughen
Synopsis: A sword and planet adventure set on a strange world filled with perils, exotic cities and fair but dangerous maidens.
John Vance looked out the bubble window of the Lightening MK3 air-car, the most commercially successful of the personal air vehicles now available in the year 2044. Turning his head he glanced at the clean lines of the aircraft, admiring the yellow streamlined body which cleaved the cloudless sky with its graceful form. The composite fuselage was a smooth ovoid with four tilt-rotors, giving the air-car both vertical takeoff and landing capabilities, combined with the long range high-speed cruse performance of a turboprop aircraft.
Below him, through now raised binoculars, the beauteous summer countryside of Yorkshire, England, stretched out in a checkerboard of farmland, yellow with ripening wheat. The Arcadian scene was one of visual poetry that was punctuated by a scattering of rustic farmhouses, barns and associated outbuildings. It was a peaceful and calming vista of rural life that possessed a quaint charm absent from the bustle of city living. But even so it didn’t really hold Vance’s interest, and so the young man of twenty-one lowered his binoculars and turned his bespectacled gaze to that which did.
The focus of his desire was Lidia Steele, the young woman in the front passenger seat of the Lightening MK3. His longing gaze lingered on her wondrous profile - the oval of her face, her long waist length auburn hair and graceful figure, all of which combined to turn the heads of many a man, and was no doubt the envy of many a woman also.
Lidia laughed at some witty remark that Vance failed to catch. The author of the jest was Alex Gordon, pilot of the air-car and the young woman’s current love interest. Vance’s brows furrowed. He didn’t like Gordon, partly out of jealousy, partly out of … well, Vance didn’t quite know. The fellow was too smooth. His charm too studied to be natural. It seemed to be a facade behind which he hid his true self.
Vance looked down at his clenched fists, an unconscious reaction to his dislike of the man - tall, rugged good looks with a square jaw and blond hair. A muscular physique. Star player of the rugby team at Sterling University where Vance was studying mechanical engineering, and Lidia commercial art. Gordon’s father was a diamond merchant, and he was undertaking a course in business management in preparation for employment with the family enterprise.
The two men were polar opposites. Vance was dark of hair and skin - the heritage of his Ethiopian mother. His features were not effeminate or suggestive of weakness, but were of a softer more thoughtful cast, and his supple physique lacked the bulging muscles Gordon possessed, being instead well proportioned and athletic in form.
Vance sighed. He knew he couldn’t compete with Gordon. He’d known Lidia since childhood. They’d grown up on the same street - not the girl next door, but close to it. They’d been fast friends and still were. He’d fallen in love with her during his teenage years, but could see she wouldn’t reciprocate his desire. Fellows like Gordon were more her type - blond, muscular and from a wealthy family. And so he hid his emotions, not wishing to make a fool of himself by revealing his true feelings.
“How are you going, Vancy? You’re as quiet as a mouse. Nearly forgot you were there.”
Vance turned from the window. It was Gordon who had addressed him using the childhood nickname Lidia had coined. He didn’t mind it from Lidia, but coming out of Gordon’s thin mouth it sounded demeaning. He sensed the man didn’t like him, possibly because of his African ancestry and also because he was here. Without his presence Gordon could put his hand on Lidia’s knee and no doubt much more. But Lidia had asked if Vance could come as he’d never been in an air-car before (the machines being beyond the means of his family), and since Gordon was trying to make a good impression on the girl he could hardly refuse.
“I’m enjoying the view, Alex,” he politely replied with forced civility. “I’m sorry if I gave the impression I was being unsociable.”
Gordon made no rejoinder and turned back to the controls. An awkward silence ensued. Lidia had also sensed the jibe poorly hidden in her boyfriend’s question. Vance escaped through his binoculars, scanning the panoramic vista before him, now regretting his acceptance of accompanying Lidia on this scenic flight. As the old saying goes: two is company; three is a crowd.
As Vance gazed at the landscape flowing beneath him, his eye caught a flash of light that hung in the air at a slightly lower altitude than their current thirty thousand feet. Curious, he focused his binoculars on the object and gasped when it came into focus. It was a globe patched with green and blue, and with a smaller brightly glowing sphere hovering above its equator. The size of both objects, which were shimmering as if seen through a heat haze, was difficult to determine. Perhaps the larger one was thirty feet in diameter; the smaller one only twelve inches, with a distance of approximately forty feet separating it from the surface of the bigger sphere.
“What is it?” asked Lidia, who had heard his gasp of astonishment.
“I see two spheres floating in the air. One large, the other small and brightly glowing.”
“Probably balloons,” dismissively interjected Gordon.
“I don’t think so,” replied Vance as he handed the binoculars to Lidia. “Look over there,” he continued, pointing.
The girl raised the instrument to her hazel eyes and also gasped when the globes came into focus.
“They’re definitely not balloons. Let’s have a closer look, Alex,” Lidia requested as she excitedly handed her boyfriend the binoculars.
“We must be careful,” warned Vance. “ Don’t get too close. We don’t know what we’re dealing with. It could be military, perhaps even foreign.”
Gordon put down the glasses and grinned. “Frightened?” he asked derisively.
Vance kept calm. It was obvious Gordon was attempting to bait him, but he wouldn’t satisfy the fellow by falling into that trap.
“Prudence should not be mistaken for fear,” he quietly replied.
Gordon altered course and within several minutes the two globes within the strange shimmer could be clearly seen without the aid of field glasses. The Lightening circled the spheres and the occupants of the air-car gazed in astonishment at what their eyes beheld. Vance hadn’t been far wrong in his estimate of their size. But what he hadn’t known, could not have even imagined in his wildest dreams, was that the object was a miniature planet. As fantastic as it was it couldn’t be denied.
There were blue oceans, and continents green with vegetation. Clouds could be seen floating in the diminutive sky. Miniature mountains rose from lush jungles and the glint of flowing rivers could be glimpsed as they snaked their way to the lilliputian sea. The glowing orb, the smaller of the two spheres, wasn’t stationary as Vance had surmised. It slowly orbited the larger globe, casting its light upon it like a sun. All in all it was a most unexpected and astonishing sight.
The stunned silence of the trio was broken by a beam of light. A cone of glittering radiance had sprung from the planet and engulfed the air-car with a strange tingling light. Lidia screamed. Gordon cursed as the instruments went dead. Vance expected the vehicle to plunge from the sky in a death spiral. All three were beset by wild fear, anticipating death to come upon them in a fatal rush.
But what happened was far more extraordinary. The air-car began to slide down the scintillating ray, and as it did the alien planet began to swell to tremendous size. Vance managed with great effort to reign in his bolting fear. Given the speed of their descent they should have struck the globe in a matter of seconds. He looked down to the Earth and again fear rose up, clawing at his innards. The world of his birth had shrunk. It was now the size of a basketball and, as he watched, horrified, it diminished further and vanished into the pearly void in which they were now thoroughly immersed.
But how could this be? Then it dawned upon him. It wasn’t that the Earth was shrinking, nor that the strange sphere they were being drawn towards was growing larger. This appearance was the illusion of perspective. They were moving away from Earth at tremendous speed, and therefore it shrank with distance. The alien world they were approaching was growing larger because they were drawing near to it. The only explanation he could think of, fantastic though it was, was that the mysterious planet was surrounded by some strange field of energy (perhaps the shimmer he’d seen) that distorted space-time, making it look small, not because it was, but because it was very far away, and yet somehow simultaneously present in Earth’s atmosphere. Vance conveyed his deductions to his companions, who had calmed a little in the absence of imminent death.
“You can speculate all you like,” replied Gordon in a somewhat dismissive tone. “We’re clearly in the grip of an alien power. What we need now is action, not theory. I’m taking charge of things.” Then to Lidia, who he was comforting in his strong arms: “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll protect you.”
“Oh, Alex. I’m frightened,” she shakily said.
Vance turned away in disgust as his rival comforted the woman he loved. If that muscle bound bonehead thought strength alone was enough to get them out of this situation then he was a complete idiot. Well, if he wanted to play the hero Vance knew he could do little about it except try and steer Gordon away from any reckless behaviour that might make a bad situation even worse. With that in mind Vance turned his attention to studying the alien world. The more information he had the better prepared he’d be, or so he hoped.
The globe had by now grown in size considerably. Their speed had also decreased significantly, although they hadn’t noticed any deceleration. The air-car rode the glittering beam down into the world’s atmosphere, dropping lower to the point where Vance could see the source of the ray. It emanated from the centre of a strange city of Gothic-like architecture that was constructed predominantly from pale blue stone with ebony striations.
Broad avenues radiated out from the central plaza like the spokes of a gigantic wagon wheel, dividing the city into twelve segments. Another twelve concentric avenues added further divisions to the metropolis, which was subdivided again by its network of streets.
From what Vance could see the city lacked suburbs. There were no individual houses. The domestic buildings were all terraces, with each five story unit abutting the other. They were heavily decorated with ornate spires, arches and buttresses whose rich ornamentation of bas-reliefs had been picked out in cold enamels of sapphire, ruby and gold.
Beyond the metropolis lay the agricultural district, the chief crop being a variety of black tuber about a foot in length whose appearance resembled a carrot, and it was here that Vance glimpsed the individual homes of the field workers. They were rude affairs of thatch roofs and woven walls plastered with a mixture of clay and straw-like vegetation. Vance frowned at the sight of the poverty stricken dwellings. They were a sharp contrast to the glittering city, and a jarring anachronism considering the science of the beings that had brought them to this unknown world. In Vance’s eyes that such impoverishment existed in juxtaposition to the obvious wealth of the metropolis was an indictment of the society of their captors.
Vance glanced at his companions. Gordon still held Lidia in his arms and seemed to be taking full advantage of her understandable fear to impress her with his manliness. The younger man’s face soured. Still, if Lidia could find comfort in Gordon’s arms in this frightening situation who was he to criticize or wish to deny her that? Vance took a calming breath and let go of his anger and jealousy. They were the captives of unknown and probably hostile beings. There were far more important things to worry about than his thwarted desires.
He turned again to the blister window and saw that they were much lower. The building from which the ray shot forth was directly below them. It was a domed construction - an extension of a palatial building stationed at the circumference of the city’s central plaza. The dome had opened on six hinged segments creating an aperture from which the beam was projected. They slid down the glittering ray, slowing further, and gently came to rest on a huge disc of pearly crystal set flush with the room’s floor.
The ray flickered out.
“The beam’s off. Now’s our chance,” grinned Gordon. “The roof’s still open. I’ll fly the air-car out of here.”
The man flicked switches, cursed. Gordon’s assumption that the air-car would function with the dying of the ray proved to be false hope. Vance, looking out the window glimpsed movement. Fear clutched his heart. Strange beings armed with swords had rushed from the spacious room’s circumference and were charging wildly towards them.
The alien warriors, clad in mail armor and open conical helmets, swiftly surrounded the air-car. Vance managed to get his fear under control as he looked at the dozen humanoids. They were very tall and slender. Their skins were the colour of old ivory and the down-like hair on their heads, hidden beneath their helmets, was canary yellow. Their faces were narrow and stony in expression. Their eyes were large and startlingly violet in colour as were their thin lips.
Vance glanced at his companions. Lidia had buried her face in Gordon’s shoulder. Gordon glared at the aliens as he held her, hiding his own fear with a display of theatrical bravado. But belligerence was not an option under these circumstances. They were weaponless and outnumbered. Vance felt he had to act before the big oaf decided to do something rash. Mastering his fear, he opened the door and slowly stepped out, hands raised.
“What the hell are you doing?” shouted Gordon.
“Greeting the locals,” replied Vance with far more calmness than he felt. “We can’t stay in the air-car forever.”
An alien warrior patted him down, obviously searching for weapons as his companions held their swords ready to strike. Finding nothing the guard turned and called to an elderly man who hung well back from the rest. To Vance the alien language sounded like stones rattling in a can.
The savant who had been addressed came forward. Vance, fighting to maintain calm, watched him approach. The down-like growth on the fellow’s head had turned dull silver, and his skin was webbed with silvery lines, which indicated great age among his people. Despite this he appeared quite spry.
He halted before Vance and gazed at the young man with sad myopic eyes. The savant muttered to himself as he fished for something in the pocket of his white robe. Finding it he pulled it out. It was a black hemisphere about two inches in diameter - identical to the one that was attached to his own forehead. Quickly, he pressed the flat base of the device to the young man’s brow. The swift and unexpected move caught Vance completely by surprise.
Vance gasped. It felt as if he’d received an electric shock. His vision dimmed and a buzzing noise filled his ears. He swayed dizzily. A guard grabbed him, preventing him from falling. He heard Lidia cry out in alarm. Her voice soundrd muffled as if coming from a great distance. Then the sensations passed as quickly as they had come.
“Is the translator working?” asked the savant.
Vance heard two questions - the first in the stone-in-a-can language of the savant. And then a second - the translation projected into his brain by the device now affixed to his forehead.
“Are you all right?” cried Lidia again, her alarmed voice breaking through his amazement.
“Yes,” he replied. “This fellow has attached a translator to me. I can understand him. It’s fantastic.”
The savant smiled as his own device translated Vance’s words.
“My name is Logar,” he said. “Please ask your companions to vacate the vehicle. We mean you no harm. I will attach translators to them so they can also understand our language. The translators work only between those who are wearing them. I cannot understand your companions nor they me until I affix the devices to them.”
Vance translated Logar’s request and concluded: “I think you should do as Logar asks. As I said before - we can’t stay in the air-car forever. If these people were truly hostile they would have used force and dragged us from the vehicle.”
“If they want us out,” replied Gordon belligerently, “Then have these guards fall back. I’m not such a trusting fool as you.”
Vance stifled a hot reply. Someone had to be the diplomat. He turned to Logar and translated the request, rendering it in more polite terms. The savant uttered a command. The guards retreated, but with obvious reluctance. Gordon and Lidia stepped hesitantly from the air-car and the translators were attached to them. Both had been forewarned of the effects. Lidia swayed. Vance caught her. Gordon glared at him as he leaned heavily on the vehicle, and would no doubt have said something if Logar’s voice hadn’t suppressed the venom on his tongue.
“I will now escort you to Genkan, the ruler of Nitti, this city,” informed the savant after further introductions had been made. “He will explain his purpose for bringing you to our world, which we call Wukara.”
“Can you tell us more?” queried Vance as the savant led them from the disc of the machine that had brought them to the planet. “I have many questions as I’m sure my companions do.”
“Genkan will explain all,” replied Logar politely, but with finality.
They exited the chamber and walked along a broad hallway in silence, the guards following close behind. Vance glanced around. The walls were ornamented with frescoes, the scenes depicting landscapes that, stylistically, reminded the young man of traditional Japanese paintings. The floor was of white stone resembling alabaster, and was inlaid with gold meanders. The high ceiling was vaulted in Gothic style. Circular windows on the right hand wall admitted light and air to the building.
The architecture and decorations were more reminiscent of a palace than the government building of a president or prime minister. Vance looked sideways at Logar. The man seemed a decent fellow, but he also appeared unhappy despite his outward pleasantness. Was it the burden of his obviously high office, or was it something else?
A sense of unease began to again grow in Vance. So far no indignities or violence had been inflicted upon them. But could it be that their treatment was very much a case of the iron fist in the velvet glove? The young man glanced at his human companions. Both seemed too enamoured by the refined opulence of their surroundings to give thought to such weighty matters.
“We have arrived,” announced Logar, his voice interrupting Vance’s speculations. “Follow me to the presence of Genkan. Bow as I do, and then our leader will speak.”
The group debouched from the hall into a formal audience chamber decorated in a similar style to the passageway, but with an ornately carved cylindrical podium at its far end, with stairs spiraling around its circumference. More corridors led off from the spacious room to other parts of the sprawling complex of towers, courtyards, rooms and gardens that comprised the ruler’s sumptuous residence.
Logar in the lead, they walked towards the podium of jade-like stone, which was occupied by a man sitting cross legged on a cushion at the apex of the seven foot tall cylinder. He was a little taller than the rest of his people and more muscular. His features reminded Vance of a hawk - the large eyes, the beak of a nose and the alertness of a dangerous predator in his steely gaze. There was a translator attached to his high forehead. The savant bowed low and the humans prudently followed his example.
“Our guests have arrived, Greatness,” announced Logar, who seemed to have trouble getting the words out of his mouth without choking on the hypocrisy of the statement. The savant then introduced the trio.
After having greeted them Genkan gestured. Servants ran forward and placed three large circular cushions at the trio’s feet. “Please be seated,” he said. “You obviously have many questions,” he continued as the three made themselves comfortable. “I will begin with why I brought you here.
“I wish to make peaceful contact with the people of your world, which we have been observing for approximately one of your years. I apologize for any distress caused. But I need to learn more about your culture first to prevent unpleasant misunderstandings that could lead to conflict. If you do not wish to cooperate you will be returned to your planet unharmed. But if you do accept my offer you will be well rewarded. I will elevate all three of you, giving you a place in my government as my representatives, as mediators between my people and yours.
“You would enjoy the benefits of power and privilege personally, and both our worlds would gain through scientific and cultural exchanges. I do not expect an immediate answer. Take your time to think it over. Now, you may ask me your questions.”
Vance felt the offer too good to be true, but hid his scepticism. If the Earth was in danger from these people he had to play along and find out more.
“I’d like to know why you chose us, and also the history of your planet,” he said. “How is it that it appears so small when in fact it isn’t.”
“That is a good starting point,” replied Genkan. “Firstly, the three of you were chosen because you happened to be within range of our ray. It was a purely random selection, but one I hoped would be representative of your people. As for our history: Ten thousand of our years ago the scientists of that time discovered that our sun had become unstable and within a generation would explode, destroying our world and causing such disruption to our solar system that safety could not be found on any of the six planets thereof.
“There were other worlds of distant stars that were known to the people of that age, but there was no time to evacuate a population of teeming billions, and so the ancient scientists evolved a different plan: They created an artificial sun and freed Wukara, our world, from its dying star by encapsulating it in another reality, the dimensional horizon of which is far smaller that the interior. How this was accomplished none know, for in the process of escaping our doomed sun great and unintended cataclysms arose - a global catastrophe that destroyed the ancient civilization who built these marvelous engines, which are buried deep within the planet and are powered by the heat of its core.
“It was only some six thousand years ago that my ancestors began to emerge from savagery, and once again started the slow journey towards civilization, rediscovering their heritage in the ruins of long dead cities. As you can see, some of the machines (apart from our artificial sun and those that generate the dimensional field) survived the cataclysm, but most did not. And even though we have learned to operate a few, we do not fully understand the science on which they are founded.
“If our artificial sun were to malfunction we wouldn’t know how to repair it. Our world would be doomed, frozen by the coldness of the synthetic dimension that encapsulates it. That is where your scientists can help. They can examine our machines. Together, your people and mine could rediscover the knowledge of the past to our mutual benefit. After ten thousand years of drifting through space providence has at last brought us together. Your planet’s gravity has interacted with the dimensional field surrounding us and drawn the shimmer into a permanent orbit within your atmosphere. Let’s not squander this splendid chance.”
Vance was about to ask another question when a man hurried into the room. He made a strange gesture as he bowed low, one that caused a momentary flicker of anger on Genkan’s face. He waived the messenger away in dismissal and addressed the trio.
“I’m sorry, but important matters have unexpectedly arisen that require my immediate attention. We will continue this meeting later.” Then to Logar: “Escort our guests to the rooms that have been prepared, and ensure all their needs are met. You may depart,” he curtly concluded.
**********
Vance paced his own chamber in a state of worry, agitation and disbelief. He’d just come from the common room that the apartments abutted. He hadn’t had a blazing row with Gordon and Lidia, but it had come close. They’d both decided to accept Genkan’s offer, and when he’d urged caution they’d dismissed his concerns. He remembered Lidia’s hurtful and grossly unfair words in particular.
“You said yourself that if they wanted to harm us they’d have dragged us from the air-car,” she’d said as a counter to his worries. “Genkan’s offer is too good an opportunity to miss. Vancy, you’re a nice guy,” she continued. “But your too timid at times. I know you love me, but you’ve never had the courage to say so. What I want is a man like Steve - someone strong and decisive who shares my ambitions. I won’t go so far as to accuse you of being a coward, but…” and here she left the stinging sentence hanging.
Gordon’s snicker at his shocked expression had been the final straw that had driven him from the room.
Vance brought his mind back to the present. Lidia hadn’t come knocking on his door to see if he was okay. It felt like she’d suddenly become a stranger to him. Had his love blinded him to her true nature? She’d always been attracted to the young men of well-to-do families. He hadn’t thought about this before because it didn’t seem important. But now, in this situation, would she sell out Earth for riches and power? Not deliberately, no. He couldn’t believe that. But her desire for the good things in life might blind her to the danger of her actions.
Vance swore. He thumped a wall in frustration, anger and humiliation, then paused. Where he’d hit had sounded hollow. Frowning, he tapped carefully. The hollow sound was repeated. His suspicions now fully aroused Vance continued his careful exploration of the timber panel, intricately carved with the strange plant and animal life of Wukara. His persistent fingers pressed here and there. A flower resembling an iris sank beneath his digit. There was a soft click and the panel swung inward, revealing a dim passage hidden between the walls.
The young man examined the inner side of the door. From this position the spyhole was obvious. Clearly, things were not as innocent as they seemed. Why place guests in a room where they could be spied upon? He thought of calling his companions, but then dismissed the idea. They’d probably rationalize the situation. He’d need stronger evidence than this to convince them not all was as innocent as it appeared.
Vance lit an oil lamp with flint and steel, and took it from its wall mount. Holding his courage tightly in place and determined to find answers, he entered the hidden passage and quietly closed the secret door behind him.
The yellow light of the oil lamp pushed back the darkness of the hidden passage. Vance cautiously followed it. It led past the other room occupied by Gordon and Lidia. Here, too, was a secret door and spyhole. He looked within and wished he hadn’t. The couple were lying on a soft rug. They were completely nude and locked in a passionate embrace.
Vance quickly turned away. The sight was like a stab in the heart. Still, it was Lidia’s choice and he had to respect it. He hurried on, focusing on his surroundings in an effort to force the wrenching scene of their love making from his mind. Shortly, he came parallel to the common room and saw fresh footprints in the dust. Vance paused. Someone had been looking and listening to their conversation through the room’s spyhole.
Whoever it was knew of his doubts concerning Genkan’s sincerity. Gordon and Lidia were probably safe as they had no such uncertainty, but if his host was treacherous it was possible his life was now in danger - his footprints in the dust would also give him away. Grim faced Vance determinedly moved on despite the risk. Soon, he came upon steps leading down. He descended quickly. The young man sensed that he probably had limited time to find hard evidence before someone discovered he was missing.
The steps ended in a small chamber with three other branching ways. The footprints of the spy went down the central one. Vance glanced at his watch. He’d been gone a little over five minutes. Gordon and Lidia would be occupied for a while. He could probably hope for another fifteen minutes before someone raised the alarm. The young man peered into each of the tunnels. All were equally uninformative as to where they led.
He was about to follow the trail of the spy when a faint sound came to him down the left hand way. The noise turned his steps in that direction. It was a risk, but the sound might provide vital information. Mindful of time Vance hurried along the dusty corridor. He soon came upon another concealed door from which the noise again emanated. This time, being closer, it was more distinct: It was the cry of someone in pain.
Vance looked through the door’s spyhole to the chamber beyond. The sight shocked him. Genkan was there and also another unknown fellow of brutish appearance. Both stood before a naked girl who was suspended from the ceiling by chains attached to manacles about her wrists. Additional chains around her ankles were fastened to the floor and held her legs apart making movement impossible. Genkan was speaking. His words came through the translator to the tensely watching Earthman.
“Xyamara,” he said. “Why do you persist in trying to escape? You should know by now that your attempts will only end in failure and pain for yourself. Be sensible and cooperate. With your support and that of your people we have a much better chance of conquering the Earth. Two of the humans that I’ve captured have been seduced by my promises. I can trick them into providing information on the size, strength and weapons of the various nations, as well as other data that will make our triumph easier. The man called Vance is suspicious. He will probably have to be eliminated. Don’t make his mistake. Join me and enjoy the fruits of victory.”
The girl, trembling from pain, nonetheless looked at her captor with defiance. “I will never lend my aid to your foul schemes,” she replied. “You lured me here with false promises that our contact with the Earth people would be peaceful. The only thing I regret is that I was foolish enough to believe your glib lies, and that my escort of brave warriors died at your foul hands.”
Genkan swore. “Your government knows I’m holding your hostage. I’ll send a message to your council warning them that if they don’t submit to my demands then you die horribly. I prefer voluntary cooperation. But make no mistake - If necessary I will use brutal force to bend you and all others to my will.” He turned to the thuggish fellow: “Continue the torture. Perhaps more pain will convince her.”
Genkan turned away, his face hard with anger and frustration.
“Neither I nor my council will submit,” cried the girl with defiance, then she hurled a potent insult at the warlord as he opened the cell door, strode through it and slammed it shut.
The grinning torturer pointed a black rod at Xyamara and pressed a button. A crimson ray sprang from the device. She screamed as the beast played it over her naked breasts.
Vance had seen enough He thrust open the secret door. He leaped wildly at the girl’s tormentor, slamming into him with a tackle that felled the brute to the floor. It was a dangerous move on the young man’s part. His opponent proved far stronger and more experienced at wrestling. Vance quickly found himself in danger of being overpowered. The brute’s hands were locked around his throat. They would soon strangle the life out of him.
The torturer opened his mouth to shout an alarm. Vance managed to jab the fellow in the throat. The fiend gagged, his cry cut off. The young man broke his foe’s weakened hold, fought clear with a flurry of wild punches that sent the brute crashing to the floor. The torturer was heavily battered but far from out of the fight. He staggered up and rushed at Vance like a charging bull, his arms swinging in a whirlwind of savage blows. The Earthman ducked a vicious haymaker. He slammed his fist into the brute’s gut. The man doubled over and Vance drove his knee into his opponent’s chin, dropping him unconscious to the floor.
For a second Vance, glasses askew and breathing hard from the fight, stood above his downed opponent making sure he was incapable of rising. Reassured, he straightened his spectacles, grabbed the torturer’s rod and thrust it in his belt. There was a translator affixed to the fellow’s brow which might prove useful so he took that also. Vance then turned his attention to the prisoner. She’d fainted from the pain. The young man began to hurriedly free the girl from her manacles by undoing the butterfly screws that locked them closed. At any moment someone might come to investigate the sounds caused by the fight.
The girl sagged into his arms. He swept her up and swiftly reentered the secret passage, quickly closing the door behind him. The oil lamp still burned where he placed it, and by its light he examined Xyamara, searching for injuries.
Her smooth skin was jade in colour, with her lips and eyes, and the areola of her large breasts and vulva a darker shade of green. Her scalp was covered in glossy black scales resembling those of a pangolin. The scales began at the bridge of her aquiline nose, and swept back in a triangular pattern over her brow and to her nape.
She had neither eyebrows nor eyelashes. A nictitating membrane replaced these, its function to remove debris from the eyes. Her ears were oval and set close to her skull. Her flat belly possessed a naval, and along with her breasts confirmed she was a placental mammal rather than a reptile as her scales might suggest.
His examination complete, Vance was relieved to find Xyamara uninjured. As he was to later learn the force-rod’s crimson ray stimulated pain receptors without causing physical damage.
The young man saw that Xyamara was beginning to revive. He patted her cheek to hasten the process of recovery. Fortunately, the girl wore a translator as her language was different to that of her captors. Vance knew they both needed to get out of here, and fast.
Xyamara moaned and opened her eyes. She gasped in fright as she took in Vance’s alien strangeness. Quickly, he introduced himself and explained things as he removed his shirt and gave it to her.
“I think I might be able to find the way to my impounded craft,” said Xyamara after she’d hurriedly donned the loaned apparel and introduced herself. The girl closed her eyes and concentrated, using her directional sense. “Yes,” she continued. “I’ve oriented myself. I know which way to go. Follow me.”
Xyamara picked up the oil lamp and hurried along the passageway, following the branching corridors with an unhesitating certainty as she sensed direction using the planet’s geomagnetic field.
Vance urgently followed her, speaking in hushed and pleading words: “My companions believe Genkan’s lies just as you did. But your testimony will convince them of the truth. We can’t leave them in the hands of such a ruthless man. Please come with me and speak to them.”
“We may not have much time before the alarm is sounded,” cautioned the girl. “If we try and rescue your friends it might result in our capture, in which case we’d be useless to them. Help me return to my people, and with all the resources at my command I’ll organize a well planned rescue mission.”
The girl suddenly thought of something. She looked sideways at the Earthman. “Did you kill the torturer?” she asked.
“Why, no,” he replied, shocked by the bluntness of her question. “I’m no killer.”
The girl swore at him. “You fool,” she harshly said. “If you want to survive then that’s what you’ll have to become. He’ll certainly raise the alarm. There’s definitely no turning back for your friends now.”
She cursed again and then raced ahead. Vance, realizing that helping her would be the best way to help Lidia quickly followed. The young man had a hard time keeping up with Xyamara as she sped along the passageway, and he had the distinct impression that in her current mood she wouldn’t have cared in the slightest if she left him behind.
After about five more minutes they came upon upward leading stairs. The pair ascended hurriedly. Xyamara pressed her eye to the door’s spyhole, and gazed into the courtyard beyond. She grinned. Her lighter than air machine which, with its flat deck supported by two cylindrical hulls looked something like a catamaran, was tethered to a pillar of the portico. The only problem was that it was guarded by six warriors. She curtly conveyed this information to Vance.
“I have this,” he said, drawing the torturer’s force-rod from his belt.
The sight of the weapon mollified Xyamara. “Well, at least you got something right. We’ll have to rush them,” she continued as she handed him the oil lamp and took the rod. “The alarm might be sounded at any moment and then they’ll be on high alert. Ready, here we go.”
The girl thrust open the door just as the vibrant blare of horns sounded their strident warning. One guard caught a flash of movement. He turned and cried alarm as the escapees wildly burst from hiding in a desperate rush. The girl fired her ray. The man went down screaming. Vance hurled the oil lamp. It smashed against another guard as he drew his blade. Splattered oil burst into leaping flames. The stricken man staggered about shrieking in agony.
Vance snatched up the hapless guard’s sword. The remaining warriors rushed them, yelling madly for reinforcements. In mere seconds a savage melee erupted. Steel rang on steel. The crimson ray spat. Men screamed in agony and tumbled to the ground.
Vance leaped aside. He barely avoided the lightening thrust of his ferocious adversary. His sword clashed violently with his ruthless opponent. The foe stepped forward, grabbed the bell-shaped guard of the Earthman’s blade. The warrior jerked the weapon from his hand in a swift and unexpected maneuver. Vance jumped back, tripped upon an incapacitated guard. He crashed to the floor. His savage opponent swung his weapon. The Earthman rolled. The rushing blade sparked against stone. Vance managed to kick his foe in the shins. The man dropped his sword, staggered away cursing.
“Get in,” yelled Xyamara.
Vance scrambled to his feet. The girl had downed her last opponent and was now aboard the craft hacking at its mooring rope with a purloined sword. More guards burst forth from the courtyard’s far side. Vance swore. He raced for the vessel, grabbed the deck rail and hauled himself up. A rain of flung swords crashed about him in narrow misses as he pulled himself across the railing and tumbled to the deck.
A guard leaped aboard. Xyamara hurled her sword at him. He screamed, tumbled off the flyer. The ship rose into the air. Arrows fired from a nearby watchtower clanged noisily against the alloy hull. Below them the frustrated warriors cursed; then the escapees gained the safety of the sky and swiftly sped away.
Vance crawled to where Xyamara lay in the centre of the craft. He dare not stand least the wind of their swift passage sweep him from the deck. The girl guiltily glanced at him as he slid next to her, the horseshoe shaped windshield offering some protection from the rushing air.
After securing himself with the safety straps Vance slumped to the deck. During the fight he hadn’t had time to think, only react. But now that it was over he thought about the men he’d killed - their blood their screams, the stench of death. He trembled, retched violently, overcome by the horror of what he’d had to do. It was some time before he recovered.
“Thank you for coming to my aid,” said Xyamara after he’d settled. “I’m sorry I swore at you. Our meeting was under less than ideal circumstances, and I wasn’t at my best.”
“That’s okay,” he managed to reply. “I understand. Are you heading for home?”
“Yes. We’re on our way to Athios, my city of which I am ruler. We should be there in several kamsara. Fortunately, we will reach our destination before Genkan’s messenger. I don’t want my government giving in to the warlord’s ultimatum.”
“Genkan must be mad if he thinks he can conquer Earth,” said Vance. “I can’t see how it can be done when his men are armed with swords and we’ve got atomic bombs - weapons that can destroy entire cities.”
“He can’t win on his own. That’s why I was being held hostage and tortured,” explained Xyamara, “To force me to cooperate. My people have rediscovered more of the ancient science than Genkan’s savants. Only we know how to make these flying ships. The warlord needs a fleet of them. With his ray he can transport them to your world, and with or aircraft drop the plague bombs he is developing on Earth’s cities. Conquest will be easy when the global population has been utterly decimated by a pandemic so virulent that society will collapse.”
Vance looked as horrified as he felt. In his mind’s eye he saw the world’s capitals strewn with the rotting bodies of the multitudinous dead - entire cities turned into vast graveyards. Genkan needed human DNA samples to help develop the lethal pathogen, which was another reason why he’d captured them. The warlord was utterly ruthless. He might even use Lidia and Gordon as guinea pigs to test the effectiveness of the plague virus. The young man felt physically ill. He disclosed his nightmare fears to Xyamara, and again pleaded with her to immediately turn around and rescue his companions.
“No,” she replied in steadfast refusal. “As I said - if we’re caught then all is lost. I must rally my people. We must prepare for battle with Genkan, Warlord of Wukara. My people are also in danger. The dictator’s mad lust for conquest will not stop with Earth. The lives of billions are at risk, far more than just two individuals. I’ll try and organize a rescue mission. But in the end it might be necessary to devote all resources to the coming war.”
Vance bowed his head. He realized Xyamara was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to accept. He thought of Lidia. Did he still love her? After her demeaning appraisal of him, which had wounded him badly, his feelings were ambivalent. But he knew with certainty that for all her faults she didn’t deserve to die horribly. The young man remained silent, his mind a morass of gnawing worry.
**********
About an hour had passed, or one kamsara by local time. They were now flying over a savanna-like countryside when a strange shadow fell upon the hurtling vessel. Vance looked up and gasped. Above them was something that at a glance looked like an airplane. The Earthman’s eyes widened in shock as he scrutinized the thing.
The ovoid body, covered in black scales, tapered to a head that was all saw toothed beak. Rigid wings with vertical stabilizers, like those of a fighter aircraft, projected from its sides. The thing’s four limbs resembled the legs of an eagle and were folded beneath the body like those of a bird in flight. A jet of livid flame erupted from the rear of the beast. The fantastic creature was a living rocket.
The shadow had also caught Xyamara’s attention. She gazed up and swore virulently. “It’s a uvex,” she cried in alarm. “The most deadly predator of the Wukaran skies.”
Then the monster was diving at them and spitting envenomed darts with all the rapidity of a machine gun from a blowgun-like protrusion on its head.
Bony darts pinged off the metal deck as Xyamara sent her craft into a sharp turn that would have flung both occupants to their deaths if it hadn’t been for their restraints. The monster swiftly followed, equally maneuverable.
“Use the rod,” cried the girl as she whirled the vessel through dizzying evasive maneuvers. “Shoot it down.”
Vance slid the rod out from under Xyamara’s body. He turned and fired at the uvex as earth and sky whirled in a kaleidoscope of disorientating images. The stabbing beam missed. The monster’s darts whizzed above Vance’s head. The craft plunged. The winged horror dived in swift pursuit, envenomed projectiles erupting from its lethal organ. Several darts struck the wires beneath the deck - the ones stretched between the craft’s twin hulls, severing them.
Xyamara swore. “We’ve lost motive power,” cried the girl. “Shoot the thing,” she yelled with a wild expletive.
The uvex rushed towards the drifting ship. Vance saw it looming with frightening rapidity. Envenomed darts whined off the deck in alarming ricochets. Sweat was upon the young man’s brow. With an effort he steadied his trembling hand, took careful aim and fired.
The ray struck the creature, but its momentum carried it onwards. One wing hit the ship with an almighty clang. The vessel spun dizzily. Its occupants swore in fright as the uvex tumbled from the sky and struck the earth. The creature’s fuel bladders burst from the impact and the horror vanished in a tremendous explosion of livid flame.
Air resistance gradually stopped the nauseous spinning of the damaged craft. They were now drifting high above the ground, dead in the air. Xyamara was the first to recover from their harrowing ordeal. She scanned the sky, clearly worried.
“I’ll have to take us down,” she said. “Uvex sometimes hunt in pairs if mated. Without motive power we’re as good as dead if another comes along.” The girl saw that Vance was clutching his arm and grimacing in pain. “Are you badly hurt?” she concernedly asked.
“Just badly bruised,” he replied. “My arm was flung against the deck by the whirling of the ship. I’m afraid I lost my grip upon the force-rod.”
“I’ll bring us down by letting air into the vacuum cells. Hopefully, we can find it.”
Vance was shocked. “I thought a lifting gas filled the twin hulls of your ship.”
“No,” replied Xyamara, “The hulls contain globes from which the air has been removed. This is what gives the craft buoyancy. Hercurium, the alloy from which the vacuum cells are made is lightweight and incredibly strong, as it must be to resist the tremendous crush of atmospheric pressure.
“My ship is powered by an ionic wind. This is generated by wires beneath the deck that are stretched between the craft’s twin hulls at front and rear. The front wires are positively charged and the rear ones negatively charged. It is this arrangement that, through electrical energy, creates airflow which provides thrust for the vessel. Hopefully, I can repair the damage to the propulsion grid.”
The ship began to sink as Xyamara opened the valves and slowly let air into the vacuum cells - air which would be pumped out upon the completion of repairs.
As they slowly descended Vance gazed curiously at the surrounding countryside. The savanna was dotted with coppices of strange thorny trees. Their citrine trunks were bottle-shaped, the branches rising from the apex like the arms of a candelabra with smaller branches sprouting from the tips. The green leaves, which resembled pine needles were mottled in red. In the distance herds of indistinct animals grazed on the emerald grass-like vegetation of the plain.
The ship touched down near one of the coppices, and after the frightful experience of the battle with the uvex, Vance was relieved to be on solid earth once more. But the young man’s joy at seeming safety was short lived: fifteen warriors armed with spears and rectangular shields burst forth from the concealment of the coppice. The border patrol raced towards the pair like a wolf pack, howling strident war cries as they came.
Xyamara cursed as she and Vance hurriedly freed themselves from the safety straps. Both leaped to their feet, but it was too little too late. The charging warriors had swiftly surrounded the flyer, cutting off all avenues of escape.
The worried Earthman scrutinized their captors. Both men and women were tall and athletic in build. Their skins were turquoise in colour with their scalp hair and eyebrows being a darker shade. Their eyes and lips were tangerine. All were clad in short robes, dark blue in color. Jewellery for both sexes consisted of large collars of colourful glass beads.
A woman stepped forward and spoke, her intricate filigree headdress of gold, which roughly resembled an Amerindian war bonnet, denoting her rank. “I am Teshet, youngest daughter of Isma, chief of the Angana. Xyamara of Athios, my father warned you that if you again came into our territory you would be punished. Is this not so?”
“I am not here by choice,” replied Xyamara in the Anganan tongue as Teshet lacked a translator. “My flyer was damaged by an uvex. Leave us in peace to make repairs. When this is done we will immediately depart.”
“I am aware of your misfortune,” unsympathetically replied Teshet. “We witnessed the battle and concealed ourselves in the grove of tumi trees to await the outcome. But this doesn’t change the fact that you are in our territory. You will come with us. My father can decide your fate.”
Xyamara turned to Vance, her expression sour. “We must go with them. I will explain further along the way.”
The girl turned and leaped lightly to the ground. Vance followed, but his foot landed in a hole concealed by the long grass-like ground-cover. He stumbled and fell against Teshet. Immediately, several warriors grabbed him and flung him to the earth, their spears poised to strike, awaiting Teshet’s orders.
“It was an accident,” cried Xyamara, quickly intervening. “No insult was intended.”
But Teshet, already in a bad mood was now in high fury, and wouldn’t be placated. “I will not endure the polluting touch of this base and outlandish creature with equanimity. Sacred are the daughters of Isma. Our linage is descended from the very gods. None may touch us without permission. This gross insult will not go unpunished.” Then, to the warriors: “Do not kill the animal. I reserve that pleasure for myself.”
More orders followed. Vance was roughly hauled to his feet. Teshet selected six fighters to accompany her and commanded the bulk of the warriors to continue their patrol. Teshet in the lead, her guards and the captives set off across the savanna, the Anganan girl setting a punishing pace.
“I see,” worriedly said Vance after Xyamara had fully explained the situation to him as they marched - of how she’d offended Teshet’s father whilst on a diplomatic mission by declining his offer of marriage, and how Teshet had been insulted by Vance’s touch. “I suppose an apology won’t settle the matter peacefully.”
“I’m afraid not,” replied Xyamara. “Well, at least the Angana aren’t cannibals. Eating the flesh of intelligent beings is a big taboo for them, unlike their enemies the Tasi. Teshet might kill you but at least she won’t eat you.”
“That’s comforting to know,” replied Vance.
Xyamara was oblivious to his sarcasm.
**********
About one kamsara had passed. The warriors and their captives now approached Kotuna, capital of the Angana, its population numbering a little over eight thousand. The houses of the conurbation were circular with dome shaped roofs of thatch and walls woven from a bamboo-like plant. The floors were clay and sealed with a penetrating resin, giving them a rich brown leathery texture. An encircling veranda completed the design.
The two thousand homes were arranged in a square ten houses deep leaving an open area in the centre of the habitation. Kotuna was surrounded by a palisade with a deep dry moat lined with stakes. Agricultural fields protected by thorny hedgerows had been planted to the east of the city. The principle crop was tashe - a purple tuber resembling the yam.
Vance looked around with a mixture of curiously and trepidation as the group marched across the drawbridge spanning the dry moat and entered the capital, which was largely deserted as most of the population was labouring in the fields. Elderly people, pregnant women and children too young to work stared at them as they walked towards the largest of the houses - the chief’s residence. This was three times the size of the other homes and occupied a prominent position in the innermost square of buildings.
Guards stationed at the low entrance of the residence saluted Teshet by vigorously thumping the butts of their spears against the earthen floor of the veranda. Captors and captives entered and came before the presence of Isma, who lay on a daybed covered in the spotted pelts of wild beasts he’d slain whilst hunting.
The chief, a powerfully built man with features that matched his strong physique was being intimate with a young and naked woman - one of his three wives. He looked up when the group entered and frowned at the interruption. His face became even harder when his eyes settled on Xyamara.
The young woman dismounted. She leisurely gathered up her clothes and departed as the group approached, knowing that her husband now had important matters to attend to. The thing that shocked Vance most of all was the casual manner of it all, as if they’d merely caught the chief scratching his beard.
Isma readjusted his robe and sat up. He looked to his youngest daughter for an explanation with an interrogative expression. Teshet, only too happy to oblige succinctly outlined the capture of her prisoners and concluded thus:
“This animal,” she spat, thrusting an accusing finger at the Earthman, her temper again aroused by the memory of events, “laid polluting hands upon me. I demand the thing be killed as punishment for this affront to my dignity, and I demand to be the executioner.”
Isma turned his now wrathful gaze upon Vance. “Explain yourself,” he snapped.
With Xyamara acting as translator the conversation proceeded as follows:
“I apologize for offending your daughter,” replied Vance. “I stumbled and fell against her. The touch was entirely unintentional and accidental. I assure you, no insult was intended.”
Isma considered the explanation. He was a reasonable man most of the time. Xyamara hadn’t deliberately entered his territory. He’d been angry with her for refusing his offer of marriage, but that had now passed. Vance’s touching of his daughter’s arm had been accidental - a fact corroborated by the warriors who had witnessed the event.
Teshet, however, was most unreasonable at times . Being proud and hot tempered she had demanded Vance be executed, and if Isma permitted this it would diminish him in the eyes of his people, who expected their chief to be both just and merciful. On the other hand if he denied his daughter her vengeance she’d cause no end of trouble.
Isma didn’t get on well with Teshet. Neither one liked the other - two strong willed people often clash. She frequently challenged his authority. Secretly, the chief hoped some fellow would marry her and take her off his hands. But after she’d blackened the eyes of several suitors who’d offended her, this was highly unlikely. That was the main reason he’d given her command of the boarder patrol - to get her away from court and out of his hair. After a moment’s thought the chief decided on what to him was a reasonable compromise.
“Both of you will fight,” he said to Vance. “That way my daughter will have the opportunity for retribution while you, if you defeat her, will have escaped her revenge. But be warned you must defeat my daughter without killing her or seriously injuring her. If you fail to abide by these conditions I will have you executed by slow torture. You may choose the method of combat.”
Vance’s slim hopes died. How could he possibly succeed? The fight was already uneven. He was injured, and now he must defeat an opponent who would most certainly be trying to kill him, and yet he was denied the right to land a blow of equal measure. The young man knew he was as good as dead.
“But he’s not fit to fight,” objected Xyamara. “His arm was injured in the battle with the uvex.”
“I accept my father’s decision,” interjected Teshet, fearing she’d lose the opportunity. Then to the Earthman, provokingly: “Don’t think you can hide your cowardice behind your injury, little man.”
Vance ignored the translated insult. He’d been thinking quickly all the while. He knew he hadn’t much chance of winning. His right arm was painful to move. The injury would hamper him significantly, and Teshet, a professional warrior would be going all out to kill him. An idea had come to mind, but it was so extreme that he shied away from it. It made him sick just to think about it, and he wondered if he had the courage to perform the task. The mere contemplation of the act made him break out into a clammy sweat. It seemed, however, that he had no other choice.
“If I win will both of us be allowed to go free and unharmed?” he asked Isma.
Xyamara translated and Teshet laughed contemptuously before her father could reply. She looked Vance up and down, noting his slim build, which contrasted to her muscular physique. In her eyes he was no warrior.
“You, win?” she continued scornfully. “If you defeat me then I’ll be your slave.”
“Teshet,” sharply warned her father. “Your arrogance could cost you dearly. Withdraw your promise. Once given you must keep it and I will not be able to help you.”
“Father, I’m the best warrior of our people, proven by my victories in the tournaments. If this creature beats me then I deserve to be his slave.”
“Then so be it,” replied Isma, heavily. “I have done my best to warn you.” Then to Vance: “You have my word that if you defeat my daughter in accordance with my conditions, then you and Xyamara will go free and unharmed. Now, name the method of combat that you choose.”
“I choose a test of courage,” replied Vance. “There are three things I require: A small table, a heavy knife and one of those lit candles you are using for illumination.”
Isma frowned upon hearing the translation. “That is not combat.”
“Nonetheless, it’s what I choose.” replied Vance, his voice a little unsteady. “I think your daughter might just be brave enough to meet the challenge.”
“I accept,” snapped Teshet incautiously, angered by Vance’s implied doubt concerning her courage. “Enough talk. Give the fool what he wants. I’ll slit his throat after I’ve beaten him.”
Isma wasn’t happy. He didn’t like his daughter, but not to the point where he wanted her dead or humiliated by slavery. He sensed Vance had set a cunning trap, but now there was nothing he could do. Teshet, overconfident, had rashly accepted the challenge and couldn’t back out without losing face - something that she’d never do. Reluctantly, he gave the order and the requested items were quickly brought.
“What are you going to do?” asked Xiamara in a whisper, noting that Vance had gone quite pale.
“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically.
Vance stepped to the table. His hand shook a little as he picked up the heavy knife and ran the edge through the candle’s flame. Sweat was upon his brow as he placed his left hand on the table and extended the small finger. Then, holding fast to his courage, he brought the knife down hard, cleanly severing the digit at the Proximal Interphalangeal Joint.
Then, before the pain hit he quickly dipped the end of the cut finger in the molten candle wax to seal the wound and, trying not to think about what he was doing, swallowed the first joint of his severed digit.
Vance braced himself against the table with his good hand. The pain hit him like a sledgehammer. Nausea twisted his innards. His legs threatened to collapse. Sweat beaded his ashen face. It took every ounce of willpower to stay on his feet and not be violently ill.
He spoke quietly into the shocked and absolute silence of the room: “Teshet of the Angana, I challenge you to replicate my deed.”
Teshet was very pale, far more so than Vance. To eat the flesh of an intelligent being was the greatest taboo her culture possessed. If she did as Vance had done then the curse of all the gods would be upon her, and when she died her soul would be exiled to the outer darkness for all eternity.
The girl looked to her father. His expression was one of utter paralyzing shock. She knew she could expect no aid. Teshet approached the table with all the emotions of a condemned prisoner walking to their execution. Hesitantly, she extended her finger. Reluctantly, she picked up the knife and slowly raised it high above her head. Her mind was swarming with terrifying thoughts of the outer darkness - as real to her as Hell was to Medieval Christians.
Supernatural fear beset her with all its superstitious terrors. The knife trembled in her hand. It slipped from her fingers and clattered on the table. Teshet fell to her knees. She couldn’t do it. Death she could bravely face, but not the terrifying curse of all her gods. Humiliated, the girl buried her face in her hands and wept bitter tears of shame.
Isma looked on; his face wore an expression of pained helplessness. “Teshet,” he said, finding his voice at last. “You have brought this on yourself through you own arrogance and foolishness. You must keep your word and be this man’s slave. Our laws demand it.” Then to Vance and Xyamara: “I will have my warriors escort you to your flyer. Take my daughter with you. Now go before my grief turns to rage and I slay the pair of you despite my promise not to do so.”
**********
Several kamsara had passed. Vance glanced sideways at Teshet, who lay next to him on the repaired flyer. The girl had withdrawn into herself. She was still in shock from the dramatic and totally unexpected change to her life. The young man had placed the translator he’d taken from the torturer on her brow. Vance had a forgiving nature. Revenge wasn’t his way. Compassionately, he’d told her that she was free, that he’d help her build a new life for herself in Athios, Xyamara’s city. Her response, though, was a worrying silence. Teshet either didn’t believe him or was still too dazed to comprehend what he’d said.
“We’re in sight of Athios,” announced Xyamara, her voice breaking into Vance’s troubled thoughts.
The young man saw that they were rapidly approaching the city. The countryside had changed from a savanna to one of lightly forested hills, and the metropolis had been built on the summit and flanks of one of the larger tors. The buildings were constructed from sandstone and predominantly took the form of rectangular flats four stories high. The apartments consisted of bedrooms and a lounge room. Bathing and toilet amenities were communal and located on the ground floor along with the large kitchen where meals were collectively prepared by the apartment’s residents.
Overall, the architecture, with its sleek, linear appearance and geometric ornamentation was rather modern in appearance. The facades of the buildings possessed a series of set backs that created a stepped outline, and low relief decorative panels embellished the entrances, windows and roof edges of the structures. Vance found the aesthetics extremely pleasing, and looked forward to the time when he could fully explore the wondrous city.
In terms of lifestyle: Largely, people spent their time outdoors when not working. They socialized either on the rooftop gardens of the flats or in the many tree-lined public spaces of the metropolis. Apartments were considered sleeping places, or refuges when the weather was inclement. Only the wealthy owned villas - graceful pavilions of columns and courtyards surrounded by walled gardens bright with flowering shrubs.
Below the city on level ground were the agricultural fields, and here grew the crops that fed the population, tended by free men and woman from nearby villages, which were far better than those of the impoverished Nittian peasants. The main crop was okara - a plant resembling corn, but with long cylindrical kernels, maroon in color, from which unleavened bread was made. The industrial precinct was located on another nearby hill with tiered windmills of a dutch-like design supplying the motive power for much of the factories machinery. Watermills also lined the banks of a broad river named the Ioru, which cut through the farmland, and served as a transport route for trading with the other eastern nations.
Xyamara steered the flyer towards the largest building at the summit. It was rectangular in plan, low set, and surrounded by a portico whose columns were statues representing significant people in the history of Athios. The craft settled on the flowering sward before the main entrance of the city’s parliament. Someone must have seen their approach, for as they landed a man accompanied by six guards clad in knee length scale armor and Corinthian style helmets stepped forth from the portico and briskly walked towards them.
“It is Neuris, my prime minister,” announced Xyamara with a smile. “Let us go and greet him.”
As the girl ran to greet Neuris Vance assisted Teshet from the flyer. Their eyes met and he saw with relief that there was more awareness in her gaze than before.
“You’re going to be okay,” he reassured her.
“I’ve lost everything,” she quietly replied.
It wasn’t the most positive of responses, but at least Teshet was speaking to him. Both followed Xyamara. Vance saw that the girl was conversing with her prime minister. The Earthman frowned. He couldn’t quite catch what was being said. No one was shouting, but none the less Xyamara looked furious. Neuris said something that brought the dispute to its climax.
Xyamara recoiled as if his words were a physical blow. Vance tensed as the guards laid rough hands upon her. Others charged at the Earthman and Teshet. The warriors sprang on them. There was no time to run, nowhere to flee. Vance, silently cursing, grappled with one foe, Teshet with another. The attack had brought the Anganan girl out of herself. She threw her opponent across her hip and to the ground. Vance tripped his man and sent him crashing to the sward. From the corner of his eye he saw Xyamara wildly wrestling with her assailants.
The Earthman vigorously slammed the heel of his palm beneath another warrior’s chin. The man stumbled back as two more foes lunged at Vance. The guards slammed into him like twin battering rams, felling him to the earth. He struggled ferociously, kicking, fists wildly swinging. Then a guard slammed his blocky fist against the young man’s jaw and the lights went out.
**********
Vance regained consciousness. His head was pillowed in Teshet’s lap and she was gently exploring his injuries. He slowly sat up with her help. They were in a cell. The situation was undeniably bad. He turned his attention to Teshet, surprised by her ministrations.
“I am your slave,” she explained, sensing his unvoiced question. “I am disgraced. What little honour remains to me I must preserve by keeping my word to be your chattel… I see you find this strange.”
“Exceedingly,” replied Vance. “Where I’m from we don’t have slaves. I’m not at all comfortable with this situation. If you’re going to do something I’d rather you do it because you want to.”
“But I do,” she replied. “You’re a good man, unlike my suitors. As my master you could take revenge upon me with impunity, but rather than that you’ve offered me my freedom. In addition you’re not the weakling I thought you were. What you did to defeat me took great courage. I admire that, and your decency.”
Vance looked at his injured finger. As additional protection Xyamara had wrapped the wax coating in a bandage taken from the medical kit aboard her flyer. The pain had been a dull ache, but had flared again after the fight with the guards.
“I’m afraid I don’t feel terribly heroic at the moment,” he admitted. “It seems evil has won this round.”
“How true,” bitterly admitted Xyamara, who stood before the cell door, peering despondently between its bars. “I was oblivious to Neuris’s treacherous nature, which he hid behind a pleasant facade of cultured affectations. I feel like a fool.”
“Can you elaborate?” asked Vance.
“My prime minister has taken advantage of my imprisonment to further his own ambitions,” she explained. “About one kamsara before we escaped from Nitti a messenger from Athios arrived informing Genkan that Neuris sought alliance with him. At this very moment the Warlord of Wukara is in a meeting with Neuris discussing plans for the conquest of your world. Somehow, Genkan managed to get here ahead of us and inform Neuris of our escape. We walked right into their trap,” she concluded bitterly.
“What about your people?” asked Vance, hopefully. “Won’t they rebel?”
“As Neuris gloatingly explained: They still think I’m a captive in Nitti. A message has been put out that Genkan is here to negotiate my release. Part of the conditions will no doubt be Athios’s contribution of our flyers to the conquest. My people will accept this agreement as they will believe Neuris is acting in my interests.
“By the time the population realize the truth the usurper will have consolidated his position, no doubt with the help of Genkan’s military. Our only hope is to escape and inform my people of his treachery before this happens. But considering the strength of these dungeon walls and bars, and the lock upon the door I fear there is little chance of that.”
The imprisoned trio discussed their situation further, but no effective plan of action came to mind, and so the conversation petered out into gloomy silence as bleak as the cell in which they were confined. About five minutes had passed when Vance heard footsteps in the outer corridor.
“I think someone is approaching,” he informed his companions in a whisper. “An idea has come to me. Xyamara, you pretend to be ill. If we can lure the guard within the cell we have a chance of overpowering him.”
The footsteps drew nearer as Xyamara lay curled up on the floor, clutching her stomach. She moaned loudly while Vance and Teshet knelt next to her, wearing worried expressions that were artfully contrived.
A man appeared before the cell’s grill-work door. Vance was surprised to see Logar standing there . The Wukaran savant took in the scene and smiled.
“Your ruse is quite transparent,” he said. “But there is no need for it. I’m not here to mock you,” he continued holding up a set of keys. “But rather to free you from incarceration.”
Quickly, Logar unlocked the door, opened it and beckoned to the trio. “Hurry, follow me. I’ve stunned the guards with my force-rod, but at any moment their unconscious bodies might be discovered.”
“Why are you helping us?” suspiciously asked Xyamara, fearing it was some subtle ruse on Genkan’s part.
“I have no desire to be involved in the evil and bloody conquest of another world,” replied the savant as they hurried along the dungeon corridor. “Now that I am fully aware of Genkan’s genocidal plans I must do what is right, even if it means opposing my own ruler and risking death.
“At this very moment Genkan and Neuris are in a meeting to discuss their cooperation in the coming invasion, mostly involving the construction of a fleet of flyers of improved design. I was brought along as technical adviser, to work closely with your artificers on the project when an agreement has been reached. The new design will be much better versions based on the air-car the Earthlings arrived in.”
“Are Lidia and Gordon willingly cooperating,” asked Vance worriedly. “Do they truly know what Genkan is planning?”
“The man Gordon is fully aware,” replied the savant. “He deduced what Genkan plans and has been quite open in his willingness to help. That is how we got here ahead of you. The fellow repaired his air-car with the help of our technicians. His machine is much faster than the flyers of Athios. Genkan has promised to make Gordon ruler of England as a reward for his services. As for the woman - of that I can’t be certain as she has not been included in our discussions.”
Teshet glanced sharply at Vance. “You sound as if you care for this female.”
“I don’t know,” he replied glumly. “We’ve been friends since childhood. I thought I knew her. But she’s done things I never thought she’d do.”
Vance fell silent and Teshet didn’t press her questioning.
Shortly, they approached an intersecting way and Logar spoke. “I overheard Neuris boasting of how he’d drugged and imprisoned your bodyguards. He is using them as hostages to force your councilors to do his bidding. As you know many are the sons of your most loyal men.”
The savant pointed down the transverse corridor. “They might be confined in those cells. Earlier, I heard voices coming from this passageway.
Quickly, they set their feet upon the path and soon arrived at another cell packed with a dozen despondent looking men. One looked up at the sound of their footsteps. The warrior leaped to his feet and rushed excitedly to the grill-work door, his handsome visage alive with joy.
“Xyamara,” he cried. “You’re here. But how?”
Swiftly, the other excited prisoners gathered round. The girl quickly summarized events as Logar unlocked and opened the door. She concluded thus: “We must move quickly, Tabran,” she said to the young warrior. “We have one chance to capture both Neuris and Genkan and we cannot fail. Take charge of your men and see that this is done.”
“Of course,” he replied. “But first I must properly express my joy at seeing you.” And with that he embraced her with a passion that she eagerly returned.
After the fiery kiss Tabran and his warriors hurried along the corridor, the others quickly following on their heels. Within half a minute they arrived at the dungeon’s guard room. Unconscious men lay slumped upon tables; others sprawled senseless upon the floor.
Here, they paused for a moment to relieve the comatose guards of their weapons. Now armed, the group swiftly ascended the stairway and ran straight into more warriors coming to relieve their senseless comrades.
In an instant a wild battle erupted. Swords clashed violently, sparks flew. Logar, at the rear, downed enemies with his force-rod. Men screamed and blood gushed in sickening streams. Warriors climbed over the bodies of friend and foe alike as the savage combat raged.
Vance, in the thick of it blocked a brutal stroke, stabbed his foe through the throat. The man fell spurting blood. Corpses lay thickly on the narrow stairs. The Earthman tripped on a body, went down. A warrior swung his sword in a skull splitting stroke. Teshet interposed her blade, blocking the deadly strike. Vance struck upward, impaling his opponent.
The man shrilly screamed, collapsed. Teshet hauled Vance to his feet. The escapees surged forward in a wave of whirling steel, drowning their remaining foes in blood. They were through and racing up the stairs. The fighters burst forth from the confines of the dungeon and into the palace proper. More warriors were racing at them, attracted by the sounds of combat echoing up the stairwell.
Xyamara saw they were hopelessly outnumbered. She rushed to the fore, praying these men, unlike the slain, were loyal to her.
“Stop,” she shouted. “It is I, Xyamara, your rightful ruler. Sheathe your swords.”
The rushing warriors stumbled to a confused halt. Tabran stepped protectively forward and also spoke. “Neuris imprisoned us. We’ve been held hostage. Our prime minister is conspiring with the warlord to seize the leadership of Athios. In exchange for Genkan’s help he’ll involve us in an unjust war. Neuris and Genkan must be punished for their crimes. In Xyamara’s name I call upon all loyal men to join us in capturing them.”
Iskar, the sergeant of the guards spoke: “Tabran, we were told that you and your men were sent on a rescue mission to Nitti. I see now it was a lie to hide your secret imprisonment.” Then to Xyamara: “I can vouch for the loyalty of my men. Lead the way and we will follow.”
The group, now numbering thirty, set off at a frenetic pace towards the section of the building where Neuris and Genkan were located. Startled servants scuttled out of their way as they bolted down hallways and across courtyards. Some called out Xyamara’s name when they saw her. Several guards spotted them and raced away. Tabran silently cursed. The fleeing warriors were no doubt loyal to Neuris and were on their way to warn him. Logar, struggling to keep up, fired at them but missed.
“Faster,” shouted Tabran to his companions.
Onward they sped. Across a courtyard and down a hall they raced. The sprinting warriors turned a corner. A guarded door stood before them. One warrior was frantically conversing with four others, warning them that he’d seen the escapees. The sound of racing feet drew their gaze. At the sight of Tabran and his charging men one fellow leaped to strike the portal’s alarm gong.
Tabran hurled his dagger. The man screamed. His body crashed against the gong in an explosion of brassy sound. The rest of Tabran’s men slammed into the remaining guards, swords swinging. The traitors fell beneath avenging blades. The door burst open under the violent thrust of many brawny bodies and the loyal warriors stormed into the meeting room.
Vance, in the fore, saw three men leaping out the chamber’s window. Genkan, Neuris and Gordon were fleeing for their lives.
“There they go,” he wildly shouted as he dashed off in swift pursuit.
Vance vaulted the sill, sprinted after the racing trio, the other warriors close behind him as he raced across a garden. His foes were bolting for Gordon’s air-car.
Neuris, older than the others had fallen behind. The treacherous prime minister threw a frantic glance rearward. Fear gripped the man’s vitals. Vance was closing in fast. Neuris knew he’d never reach the air-car. His fellow conspirators, selfish and ruthless men, had abandoned him.
When cornered even a rat will fight. Neuris stopped. He drew his sword and swung a wild and desperate blow at Vance. The young man blocked the savage swing. The other warriors tore past the fighting pair in hot pursuit of the remaining villains.
Vance thrust. Neuris leaped aside, slashed madly. Vance ducked a decapitating swing, lunged. His leaping blade thrust Neuris through. The stricken man screamed in agony, collapsed dead upon the ground, and thus received a traitor’s just reward.
The young man stood above the corpse breathing hard, nauseous at the sickening sight. Cries of rage drew his gaze from the bloody body. He saw that the air-car had gained the freedom of the sky. Vance swore. Genkan and Gordon had succeeded in escaping. The threat to Earth wasn’t over yet.
**********
One Wukaran day had passed. Vance, standing at the bow of the Edartu - the Athiosan flagship - looked towards the fast approaching city of Nitti. The air-fleet of a hundred vessels was behind him, strung out in a v-shaped formation. Fortunately, Xyamara, safely back in Athios and firmly in control of her government, had been able to convince her council to agree to attack Genkan, arguing that the man was a menace to the peace of two worlds, and that it was best to strike now before his savants, with Gordon’s help, constructed their own air-fleet, which Logar had assured Xyamara they were planning to do. Admittedly, it would be more difficult without Athios’s help, but not impossible.
The Earthman turned and looked the flagship over. It was commanded by admiral Kuas and of a different design to that of Xyamara’s flyer. The vessel possessed a high stern-castle and forecastle, and its appearance and size roughly approximated that of an ancient Greek Trireme. There were no oars of course. At the stern was a complex mechanism of charged wires that generated the ionic wind. The ship’s wickerwork hull was suspended by chains beneath an ovoid vacuum cell of hercurium alloy that provided lift. Steering was achieved by stubby wings with rudders and ailerons that projected from the hull. The wings were of tough fabric stretched over a strong lightweight wooden frame.
The warriors and crew were readying themselves for combat, as was the squad of nearby men under Vance’s command. Similar scenes were occurring in the other ships of the fleet. Ten thousand men were preparing to face death in all its horrid forms. Everyone was keyed up. Vance jumped when Teshet placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Nervous?” she inquired.
“A little,” he reluctantly admitted, fearing that she’d think poorly of him. But there was no point in lying - the expression on his face was plain for all to read. The one thing he kept from her was his worry concerning Lidia. Was she complicit in Genkan’s plans, and what would he do about it if she was. He had to know and this was the reason he’d insisted on coming, despite his injuries, which had now been properly attended to.
Teshet sensed something of his thoughts. “It’s only natural to experience fear. The important thing is not to let it stop you from doing what is necessary, no matter how hard it is. I have confidence in you. Any man who can sever his own finger and eat it isn’t a coward.”
A war horn bellowed, cutting off Vance’s reply. The air-fleet, flying dangerously low to ensure accuracy and thus minimize civilian casualties, was now over the city. The defenders were letting fly their weapons. Form strategic points all around the metropolis giant arrows hurled by powerful torsion engines shot skyward. One slammed into the flagship’s wickerwork hull, another clanged against its ovoid vacuum cell, denting the hercurium alloy.
The airships of Athios were not idle. They rained down a barrage of arrows on the enemy. Globes were dropped from apertures beneath the vessels hulls. Vance saw one strike a torsion engine emplacement. The sphere burst. Its liquid contents instantly erupted into flames of lurid green. Men screamed, died horribly.
But the Nittians were not the only ones with casualties. A swarm of fire arrows shot up. They slammed into the wicker hull of another airship. Their globular heads burst, spraying incendiary phosphorous. The cane instantly caught alight. Flames, fanned by the wind of the ship’s passage, raced across her hull. The craft burned fiercely. Men leaped from the stricken vessel, plunging to their doom rather than be burned alive.
Vance was sickened by the dreadful sight. Another projectile slammed against the flagship’s vacuum cell, this time piercing the hurcuriam alloy. Instantly, the craft began to rapidly lose buoyancy. She dropped stern first. Vance swore. He grabbed the railing with one hand, grasped Teshet about her waist with the other. The girl uttered a frightened cry as the ship, like a falling stone, plunged towards the ground.
As the stricken flagship dropped parachutes on the upper surface of her vacuum cell deployed. The fabric ballooned, arresting the vessel’s frightful plunge. Vance and Teshet were hurled painfully to the deck along with the rest of the crew. The Earthman struggled to his feet as he assisted his companion to also rise. Both peered over the side. They were descending towards Genkan’s heavily defended palace.
Swarms of flaming projectiles hurtled skywards and slammed against the hull of the stricken craft. Other vessels swiftly came to the flagship’s aid, dropping fire bombs on the defenders. Green flames erupted everywhere. Arrows rained down from above in a storm of flying death that slaughtered the defenders.
Vance coughed violently. Smoke was billowing as the flames raced across the hull. The burning vessel struck ground. Ramps were flung down. Warriors poured off the doomed ship, barely evading the plunging vacuum cell that crashed on top of it. The Earthman and Teshet were among the survivors. Defenders, like enraged ants, swarmed from the palace to confront them. The two warrior groups collided. Swords clashed in wild and violent strokes. Warriors fell, severed limbs and necks gushing gore. The ground was littered with the dead and the dying.
Other airships began to land in the central plaza and discharge their fighters. Athiosan soldiers swarmed the palace from multiple directions. Nittian war-horns blared stridently, summoning reinforcements from other quarters of the city. Warriors answered the call, raced along the streets only to be bombed by hovering airships. They fell back in disarray, their passage blocked by leaping tongues of roaring fire.
Vance and Teshet raced through the main entrance of the palace, leaping over the multitudinous dead. Fighting had now spread throughout the sprawling building and they followed in its wake. In the distance the sounds of violent conflict could be heard. The Earthman paused in this area of relative calm to orient himself. The original plan had been for Vance to lead a team of warriors tasked with locating Lidia and Gordon, but he’d lost contact with his men during the chaotic escape from the stricken flagship. Now, apart from Teshet, he was on his own.
Vance turned to his companion. “I can’t see Gordon fighting side by side with the Nittian’s. The man’s an opportunist, not one to risk his life for a cause. I’m sure he and Lidia will flee the fighting in his air-car, and I think I know where that might be. This way.”
The couple raced through corpse strewn hallways towards the domed chamber containing the mechanism that had brought the humans to this world. Within a minute they had reached their destination. Vance halted at the entrance to the room and peered cautiously within. The air-car rested on the huge disc of pearly crystal. The alien machine was quiescent, its banks of complex mechanisms silent. The room was empty of people.
Vance was about to enter when a concealed trapdoor was flung open. A figure scrambled madly from the secret aperture and dashed towards the parked air-car. Two more people burst from the hidden tunnel. Vance pulled back. Teshet did likewise. Both saw it was Gordon with Genkan and Lidia hot upon his heels. The Warlord of Wukara flung himself upon the fleeing man. He brought Gordon crashing violently to the floor. Genkan clamped his throat in a brutal strangle hold.
“Coward,” he cried. “So, you thought you could abandon me to my enemies. Well, your wages for this betrayal shall be death.” Then to Lidia: “You will be rewarded for informing me of your companions treachery.”
Vance, looking on, was shocked. Lidia watched placidly as the man she supposedly loved, or at the very least cared for was being brutally killed in front of her. Teshet grasped his shoulder. Her touch broke Vance free of his paralysis. He drew the force-rod Logar had given him and quickly stepped into the room.
“That’s enough,” he shouted. “Let go of him.”
But it was too late. Gordon lay limply on the floor, dead eyes staring vacantly at the high ceiling.
Genkan’s hands darted for his sword and dagger. Vance fired at the warlord. But the force-rod’s ray was neutralized by the protective diamond shaped medallion the alien was wearing, which emanated a counteracting radiation.
The enraged ruler drew his blades. With a wild yell he charged at Vance sword swinging in a deadly stroke. Vance parried with his force-rod. Teshet attacked with a disemboweling thrust. The warlord used sword and dagger to parry both onslaughts in a masterful display of skilled combat. The fighters danced about the room in a deadly waltz. Genkan, with a cunning twist, sent Vance’s force-rod flying from his hand. With a savage yell he lunged. Vance leaped aside and threw a wild punch that connected solidly with his foeman’s chin. Genkan dropped his weapons. He staggered back from the powerful blow. Teshet stepped forward to deliver a killing thrust.
Lidia dashed for the fallen rod as Teshet moved to fatally stab the warlord. The Earth-girl snatched up the weapon, fired. Teshet screamed and collapsed upon the floor. Vance overcame his shock. He leaped at Genkan, clasped the reeling man in a bear-hug and used him as a shield.
“Lidia, what the hell are you doing,” he cried in horror. “Whose side are you on?”
“The winning side, of course,” was her cool reply.
“The palace has fallen. Genkan’s plans for the conquest of Earth are in ruins. I’d hardly call that winning,” angrily replied Vance. “Stop this madness. Put down the force-rod and surrender.”
“This is a minor setback,” defiantly replied Lidia. “Genkan has upon him a metal phial containing a virus - a variant of the one he planned to use against Earth. We’ll unleash it upon Athios. The plague will wipe them out, and with our chief rival on this world gone the impediment to Genkan’s ambitions will be removed. Earth’s scientists won’t have time to develop a vaccine. I intend to save myself by being on the winning side,” she ruthlessly concluded.
“And to save yourself you’re going to help Genkan commit genocide,” said Vance, a look of utter horror upon his face. “Lidia, what has happened to you, what has happened to the girl I grew up with? It’s not too late to turn away from evil.”
“I’ve always been this way,” Lidia calmly replied. “I’ve just hidden it well. I kept you as a friend only because I thought that one day you might prove useful. But now I see you’re not.”
And then to emphasize the point she pushed the force-rod’s firing button.
The ray bathed Vance and Genkan with its debilitation energy. Vance screamed in agony. He collapsed upon the floor. The warlord, protected by his medallion was unaffected. Lidia raced forward to help the tyrant, still dazed from the Earthman’s wild blow. He leaned heavily upon her. Both stumbled for the air-car. They entered the vehicle.
Vance struggled to his feet as the flyer rose towards the opening in the dome. Being so close to the warlord, Genkan’s medallion had provided the Earthman with some measure of protection from the ray. He wasn’t hors de combat as Lidia had erroneously assumed.
Fighting through pain, the young man stumbled to the controls of the mechanism that had brought him to Wukara. He’d questioned Logar extensively on the device’s operation, and the savant had drawn an illustration of its controls to assist with the explanation of its function.
Vance leaned heavily upon the panel. He felt sick at the thought of what he was about to do. But the lives of millions upon this world and on Earth were under dire threat. He had to put aside his feelings and act for the greater good. With trembling fingers the young man flicked a switch, turned a dial and pushed another button.
A scintillating ray burst forth from the huge disc of pearly crystal. It enveloped the air-car in its coruscating radiation. The vehicle, trapped within the beam, shot upwards from the impetus of the glowing shaft. Vance, fighting back tears, watched the indicator dial of the mechanism. His hand faltered for a moment when the needle reached the fateful pictograph.
With a moan of great distress he punched a button. The ray flickered out. With the dying of the beam the air-car was now marooned in the strange dimension surrounding Wukara. Its trapped occupants would die of asphyxiation when their oxygen ran out. Vance sank to the floor, overcome by emotion. Uncontrollably, he wept bitter tears of unimaginable grief. The knowledge that he’d saved billions of lives was little consolation in the moment of his greatest distress.
**********
Vance sat quietly on a balcony overlooking the gardens of Xyamara’s residence as he reflected on past events. Several days had elapsed since Genkan’s defeat. With the warlord’s death the Nittian military had surrendered fairly quickly. There was no point in fighting for a dead man.
Negotiations for a lasting peace were well under way with the warlord’s council. Xyamara didn’t want to humiliate her defeated foes. She was wise enough to know that revenge on her part would set the stage for further conflict. Because of her enlightened approach things were progressing smoothly. The Nittian council was composed largely of reasonable men and women who had obeyed Genkan out of fear rather than loyalty - fear of his cruel and violent nature, and fear that Wukara’s artificial sun would soon fail and thus the need to invade Earth.
But Xyamara, whose people had more knowledge of the ancient’s machines had assured them that the mechanisms were self-repairing, and that the danger was simply one of Genkan’s manipulative lies. Their fears assuaged, and with the dictator dead, the councilors were eager to put the despotism of the tyrant well behind them. They’d cooperated in destroying the stockpile of plague virus and the machines that had been used to make it as proof of this.
The young man’s thoughts shifted to Lidia. His emotions were still very raw from what he’d had to do. When he’d severed his finger as part of the test of courage he’d thought at the time that it was the most difficult and painful thing he’d ever done. But it paled into insignificance when compared to killing the woman that he’d known since childhood. He bowed his head in melancholy silence, morning her passing and the death of his love for the woman he’d thought she’d been.
A gentle hand upon Vance’s shoulder drew him out of the bleak thoughts in which he was lost. He looked up and saw Teshet standing by his side.
“I thought I’d find you here,” she said, worriedly. “You look quite downcast. It’s not good to be alone in such a mood.”
“I’m glad you’re here,” he replied. “My dark thoughts make for poor company. Will you stay with me for a while?”
The girl sat next to him for an answer. “What are your plans?” she asked.
“I can’t return to Earth,” he sadly explained. “The police will question me over Lidia and Gordon’s disappearance. If I told them the truth they’d never believe me. Besides, I don’t think it would be a good idea if our two peoples met just yet. Sadly, there are men like Genkan on my world also.
“Any mundane explanation regarding my missing companions would be exposed as a lie by a thorough police investigation. I’d come under suspicion of being responsible for their disappearance. If found guilty I’d face long hard years in prison.
“No, Athios is now my home. I’ve spoken to Xyamara and offered her my services as a mechanical engineer, which she has gratefully accepted. Perhaps I can lose myself in my work, striving to improve the lives of the people. It may in some way mitigate my loneliness, for I am the only human upon all Wukara.”
“You don’t have to be alone,” she replied. “At the moment you are grieving for your loss. But I am here, and when you’ve healed perhaps you’ll see me as more than just a friend.”
In his dejected state Vance made no reply. But with the passing of time, which heals most wounds, Teshet’s hope came to joyous and wondrous fruition.
The End