Part 4

"Has she been here long?"

"No, she flew down from the northern capital only a few weeks ago. That was against Vaajo's orders, too. I think he'll be sending her back soon."

Ketrik remained thoughtful. He failed to see how Aarnto and the others hoped to reach her! For a Martian to get beyond those walls would be a ticklish problem; for a Rajec, it would be impossible! He heard Thurlo again.

"That's why I'm worried, Ketrik. Attention is being drawn to my shop. This afternoon an elderly matron came in--I recognized her, she's been here before, one of the Princess Praana's personal servants--"

"Go on!" Ketrik was listening now.

"Well, Aarnto was in the front of the shop. He sold her some Ionian laces, then I saw him speak to her in an undertone and hand her a folded note. He doesn't know I saw him. I don't like it, Ketrik. I--"

"A note!" Ketrik's mind was racing with the speed of atomotors. "To be delivered to the Princess, no doubt! Thurlo, tell me--does Praana ever come here?"

"She would never deign to set foot in this humble part of the city. But she has undoubtedly heard of my shop...."

"That's it, Thurlo. I think I see their plan now. If you will promise to retire early tonight, I can guarantee that no word of this will reach the Emperor's ears."

Thurlo would have promised anything. An hour later all lights were out, and Ketrik stood in the darkened front of the shop where he could see the street but remain unseen. If his surmise was correct, he could thwart the plans of the _S'Relah_. Ordinarily he wouldn't have bothered, but now he thought he could turn it to his own advantage.

The hours passed. He watched the slow climb of Deimos across the sky. Its light scarcely touched this cringing little street. Once he saw the dull lights of a freighter descending, and remembered that just beyond this district was the freighter spaceport. Occasionally a skulking figure passed, keeping to the shadows. Once the flash of a heat-pistol came from a nearby alley, and a moment later the sound of running feet.

Still he waited. He lit a cigarette, keeping the glow of it carefully hidden. He began to wonder if the Princess would venture into this place after all. It seemed most unlikely, at this hour! It had been a crazy idea to begin with. He was clutching at straws. That note which Aarnto slipped to the servant might have meant something else entirely.

Ketrik dropped the cigarette, ground it savagely underfoot. Then, with a sharp intake of breath he leaned forward, peering through the window. From the nearby corner a dark vehicle had glided into the street! It moved swiftly and silently. It could only be one of the three-wheeled cars.

It stopped across the street from the shop of Thurlo. For a minute no one emerged, and Ketrik knew the occupants were surveying the shop. He drew back a little. Then two figures stepped out, started across the street. One was a woman. Her steps were unhesitant, even a bit excited. Ketrik recognized the Princess Praana even from here. The other was a man, who seemed to be remonstrating with her.

"The fool! The little fool," Ketrik muttered. "But at least, she had sense enough to bring one of the Guard!"

* * * * *

Events happened then with blurring swiftness. The shadows came from somewhere out of darkness, seemed to glide toward the pair in the street. In a split second they were upon Praana and the man. Too late the Guard sensed the danger; he whirled, but in the same instant was sinking to the street with a Rajec dagger through his heart. The other Rajec had clapped a hand roughly over the girl's mouth, was dragging her back to the car.

In those few seconds Ketrik was tugging at the shop door. It seemed to stick. He cursed, wrenched it open and flung himself into the street. His gun was out but he saw it was too late; Praana and the two assailants were already in the car, the motor was whining to life. Ketrik reached the car in two bounds, just as it hurtled away. He flung himself blindly at it. His hands managed to grip the rear wheel-guard. He clung to it, arms wrenching painfully as he was dragged along.

The car slowed, turning into the nearby street, and Ketrik managed to get his feet up. There he crouched precariously, leaning his weight forward as the car jolted through rough streets and alleyways. Again he cursed. He'd lost his gun back there! He didn't think they'd seen him, though; Praana had fought like a wild _hella_.

They apparently had her under control now, probably had administered a drug. Ketrik began to take notice of their direction. They were deep in the dark warehouse district. Suddenly his heart leaped. He knew where they were going! They intended to get Praana out of the city through that secret Canal-tunnel! He doubted if there were a dozen men in this city who knew of its existence, much less its location.

Then they reached it. Ketrik recognized the place, knew he'd have to act quickly. One of the Rajecs had gotten out, was leaning over, trying to lift the girl's limp figure down from the seat. Ketrik stole forward. He put all his weight behind the blow which landed at the side of the man's neck; it was a dirty blow but this was no time for niceties. The Rajec crumpled, slid forward against the car.

"What's the matter, Vronu?" The other was Aarnto; Ketrik recognized his voice. Aarnto came around the front of the car then, and took in the scene.

Ketrik was tense. But Aarnto didn't move or speak. Not for several seconds. Then he said, slowly, "So. It is you again, Earthman." He was calling the terms correctly now. "I thought I had seen the last of you."

Ketrik glanced at Praana's unconscious figure upon the seat. His eyes flicked back to Aarnto. "My debt is paid, Aarnto! You said it yourself." With that, his limbs uncoiled and he hurled himself forward.

Aarnto met his rush, sending out a straight jab as he allowed his body to sway aside. The blow was glancing but powerful enough to send Ketrik off balance. Ketrik's lips went tight as he whirled back to the attack. He knew he had his work cut out for him here.

Aarnto seemed slim, but there was weight there and he knew how to use it. He put it behind every blow. For a few seconds Ketrik found himself parrying these blows, ducking and rolling and taking a few on the arms which numbed him. He managed to get a few past Aarnto's guard, but the Rajec took them too, and pressed his advantage. Ketrik was satisfied to back away for the moment. His legs were still a little numb from crouching on the car.

A crashing right came through Ketrik's guard, drawing blood from his mouth. He countered and missed, as the other leaped away. Again and yet again this happened, with Ketrik missing almost clumsily; they fought in near darkness and it was hard to connect with that swift moving black body!

"So you would interfere, O crudely disguised one!" Again Aarnto's fist came through, to send Ketrik reeling back. But his legs were less numb now, and he began to co-ordinate his footwork. His brain was lightning clear. Aarnto laughed contemptuously, laughed with the joy of battle and pressed forward, throwing more lefts and rights. They missed as Ketrik danced away lightly as a _hella_ cat--then Ketrik threw a boxer's left, long and weaving, that found its mark.

"That better, O haunter of dark places?" He followed it with a right that crashed against bone, and Aarnto didn't laugh again.

Slowly Ketrik took the initiative, refusing to give way now and throwing his long left to advantage. He used the other's feral eyes as a focal point, aiming just below them. He sensed that the other was weakening. Aarnto gave ground slowly, fighting back. His blows were still heavy but now his timing was off and Ketrik didn't give him a chance to regain it. Ketrik's own arms were becoming numb, from stopping the other's blows. He shifted the attack to the stomach and Aarnto's guard dropped. A right came up that sent the Rajec staggering. Ketrik leaped in for the kill, lashed with a left that sent the black spinning half around.

The right-cross that followed immediately, was the one that did it. It caught Aarnto at the point of the jaw just below his ear. By the way he crumpled, Ketrik knew he wouldn't get up for some time.

Ketrik stood there for a moment looking down. A roaring was in his ears, a vast tiredness came upon him. He wiped blood from his face and looked at his bruised fists.

A sound came from behind him. He whirled.

* * * * *

It was Praana. She stood there, looking small but somehow not frightened, staring at Aarnto's prone figure. She reached into her tunic and drew out a small electro. Before Ketrik could realize her intention, she aimed it at Aarnto.

He snatched the gun away just in time. "You'd kill him in cold blood?"

"He's a Rajec. And a member of the _S'Relah_!"

"Oh, you realize that how, do you? Well, listen to me. He fought fairly--had a dagger there in his belt, and could have used it. So he gets a break."

She turned an angry face to him, started to speak, but he stopped her with a gesture. "Quiet! Listen!"

* * * * *

From somewhere near came the sound of scuffing feet. Ketrik moved swiftly to a little metal door between two buildings. This was the door to the sewer, which in turn led into the secret tunnel. Presently it opened, and Ketrik saw the yellowish glow of eyes. Rajec eyes, many of them--perhaps eight or ten. Ketrik stepped back. He gave a burst with the electro, allowed the beam to cut a frothing path very near the doorway. The black figures drew back.

"You get these two, and that's all!" He indicated Aarnto and Vronu. "Two of you step forward and get them. Quickly, now!" He gestured meaningfully with the weapon.

Two of the Rajecs crept out, watching him all the while. They seized the limp figures and dragged them back. Ketrik followed. "All the way! Clear back into the tunnel. I'm letting you off easy. Be glad you don't get Vaajo's torture plates for this night's work!"

He herded them all into the tunnel, then swung the pivoted door shut. A steady play of the electro-beam fused the mechanism so that it wouldn't work again, ever. He knew they might use their knives, loosen the stone blocks enough to gain another entrance, but he didn't care about that now.

He hurried back to the street, found Praana still waiting. Her fists were clinched and her voice sharp. "You take a lot upon yourself! Those were the _S'Relah_ and should be turned over to the Guard!"

Not a word of thanks, no show of gratitude. Ketrik let his own voice rasp. "It isn't important. You were a little fool to leave the Palace! Why did you do it?"

"Then you know I am the Princess Praana! And you--you dare to speak to me like that!" She raised her fists, seemed about to strike him--then a thought occurred. "Rilon--he--where is he? What happened?" Then she shuddered, as though suddenly remembering.

"I suppose you mean your Guard," Ketrik said with no attempt to spare her feelings. "He's lying back in the Street of the Double Moon with a dagger through his heart, thanks to you."

"Thanks to me," she whispered, all the spirit gone out of her now. "I shall never forgive myself! He warned me, tried to stop me, even pleaded--and when I threatened to come alone...."

Ketrik said sternly, "Why should you want to come at all--to this miserable part of the city?"

"You are right, I was a fool. Occasionally I send a servant to the shop of one Jal Thurlo, to pick up a rare article that would never find its way to Mars by the ordinary routes--you understand? This afternoon my servant brought me exciting news. In his shop Jal Thurlo had a single bottle of the perfume from the Deimian Temple of the Ancients! Can you understand what that means? That rare, that glorious perfume...."

Yes, Ketrik could understand. He smiled at Aarnto's cunning. Women would give their money, their jewels, everything they held precious, for a single dram of that perfume which was so rare as to be almost non-existent.

"But," Praana went on, "it was to be smuggled away from Mars tonight! It was to go to the Princess Aladdian on Venus! The note said that if I were to see Jal Thurlo tonight, I might persuade him--"

Ketrik felt suddenly sorry for her. She was almost in tears. "It was a trick of the _S'Relah_," he said, "and Jal Thurlo knew nothing of it. As for the Deimian perfume--my dear girl! I happen to know that the last of it was smuggled to Earth some years ago, and sold for a fabulous price." Ketrik neglected to mention that he himself had engineered the feat.

She smiled wistfully. "You have saved my life, and I have learned a great lesson. I owe you for both." She suddenly removed a bracelet of Martian diamonds. Ketrik waved it away, and she frowned in puzzlement. "Is it not enough?"

It was not nearly enough. What he wanted was to get beyond the electronic wall. He came near to hinting at it, but checked himself. No need to press his luck too far.

He bowed elegantly. "To have been of service to you, Princess, is reward enough in itself."

She was impressed, insisted on knowing his name and where he could be reached. He gave her the information with seeming reluctance. She assured him she could make her way back to the palace alone. "You shall be rewarded, nevertheless," were the last words Ketrik heard as she drove the car away. And he smiled inwardly.

* * * * *

He was jubilant, retracing his route through the dark streets. Dar Vaajo would certainly send for him tomorrow! For he knew that Praana would tell her father of this.

It was just past the midnight hour, and suddenly he remembered something. This was the hour ... but even as the thought crossed his mind, the phenomenon came. It came as a greenish glow rising above the city center, spreading swiftly outward. As it spread, like a blanket of palely pulsing light, a frightening _malignancy_ came with it.

Then it touched upon Ketrik, and he reeled. The cold light was all about him, surging through him. Tightening tendrils of it clutched at his brain. A vast singing was in his ears. He fought back, fought as his mind reeled upon a chaos of vertiginous horror! Those light-tendrils tearing at his brain, eagerly, hungrily--here was Dar Vaajo's weapon and he knew it, even as he fell to the street to lie exhausted, his mind going away....

Still he tried to fight, knowing it was hopeless. An agony was in him, tearing at his fingertips and through every muscle; wrenching at his brain, seeking to tear it apart fiber by fiber. He felt his sanity going; it was being _drained_ away as liquid is sucked through a straw. He laughed once, wildly. He felt other light-tendrils seeking, seeking hungrily all about him. With a last vestige of mental power he remembered again a gibbering madman in a dark tunnel....

Then the light was going away. It receded, rushing back upon itself, coalescing into a mass of greenish radiance that swirled and twisted angrily and tried to escape. Almost _alive_! As Jal Thurlo had said! Ketrik rose and stood swaying, his head throbbing, as he watched it from afar.

Now the spherical mass of it, deeper in hue and pulsing angrily, hovered in the sky just above Vaajo's laboratories. Suddenly the sphere extended, became a pillar of pulsing light trying to leap away.

And it leaped away. Faster than light, swift as thought, hurtling through the outer reaches of space.

Ketrik didn't stay to see more. He didn't need to. Even through the cold needle-fires in his brain, he had enough faculty left to know that far out in space, in that part of the heavens, swam the planet Earth. Again this night Dar Vaajo was testing ... testing the power of his curiously-alive weapon....

Ketrik reached the shop of Jal Thurlo, found the jar of _vanadol_ and downed enough of it to put him into merciful oblivion.

VI

It was late the following day when a car, bearing the royal insignia, drew up before the shop and one of the Guards asked for "Khosan."

Ketrik was ready. He'd been waiting for this. As they drove toward the palace grounds the two Guards looked at him enviously.

"You have won great favor with the Emperor for last night's work," one of them said. "He wants personal audience with you! It would not surprise me if he made you Captain of Praana's own guard!"

"It is true you were not supposed to be on the streets at that hour," said the other. "But Dar Vaajo will overlook that, considering the circumstances."

Ketrik remembered that Praana was not supposed to be on the streets either, but he didn't voice the thought. They reached the electronic wall. One of the men gave the signal, and a section of it moved upward. Their car passed through.

At last he was inside the forbidden grounds! Ketrik remained outwardly humble, but he kept his eyes open. They went along a sweeping drive bordered by stately _majagua_ trees. They passed a few buildings, fronted by splendid lawns. Then the palace itself loomed ahead, a magnificent two-storied structure of dark _culchite_ marble.

But Ketrik had no eyes for it. To the left was a building equally imposing, and covering more area, which could only be the royal laboratories! It was undoubtedly from that building that the phenomenon had come the night before. He noticed the roof in particular, glass-covered, curving into a shallow dome. If Dar Vaajo favored him, he could get a position in there....

Then they were past the building and approaching the palace. The audio-tube near the driver's head crackled to life, and a voice came through. Ketrik couldn't hear the words. A startled look appeared on the Guard's face. "Are you sure?" he said. "My orders were--"

"These are new orders! Obey them!" Ketrik heard those words all right. The audio went dead. The driver wheeled the car around abruptly, headed away from the palace.

"Something wrong?" Ketrik asked.

"Plans have been changed. Dar Vaajo doesn't want to see you quite yet." The man's voice was grim.

Ketrik felt a sudden foreboding. "Where are you taking me, then?"

No answer. Ketrik glanced at the Guard sitting next to him. This man had gone grim too, as his hand rested lightly on the electro beneath his tunic. Ketrik couldn't guess what had gone wrong or why, but he knew he wasn't going to see Dar Vaajo under favorable circumstances. He went tight inside.

They stopped before a low stone building. The driver came around, opened the car door. "Out!" he ordered curtly.

Ketrik came out. He launched himself bodily, his fist smashing to the other's face and making a bloody smear of it. The man staggered back. The momentum carried Ketrik out of the car and to his knees. He heard the rush of the other Guard, whirled to meet it. Too late. He only saw the dark blur of the man's arm coming down in a swift arc, then heavy metal crashed behind his ear, leaving him stunned.

His muscles wouldn't pull him up. The blows came again ... more than once, heavy and accurate. He ploughed forward onto cold pavement as his mind blanked out.

* * * * *

He came again to consciousness, groaned as heavy pain hammered through his skull. Gradually his eyes focused upon the details of the room. There weren't many details. It was a small room, quite bare. The floor was stone but the walls seemed to be of thick _crystyte_. Dim lights filtered through. There was no entrance of any kind that he could see.

"So you are awake at last, Earthman. And none the worse for wear." The voice came from within the room. Ketrik raised his head, stared at the opposite wall, a section of which had taken on the silvery radiance of a tele-vise.

Imaged there were the features of Dar Vaajo. Ketrik recognized him immediately.

It was an elderly face, but smooth--with the color and toughness and texture of old leather. The lips were tight and purposeful, the cheek-bones bulged beneath crisp, graying hair. And the eyes ... they held Ketrik. They weren't old eyes. They were hard and bright as jewels. An indomitable light came up from the dark depths of them.

Dar Vaajo spoke again from the screen.

"As you see, I prefer to hold audience with you in this manner. You are a dangerous man. Yes, very dangerous, to have come so far. Through my Space Patrol. Past my Specials. Into the city and past the inner wall itself." The lips quirked a little. "Yes, I have determined everything about you. Your name is not Khosan, but George Ketrik--I have heard something of your exploits in the past. You are the spy sent here by the Earth Councillor, Mark Travers." Again he paused. "You are not surprised that I know all this?"

If he was surprised, Ketrik didn't show it in the slight shrug he gave. He knew the voice would go on.

"I have learned this," Vaajo said, "within the past few hours. You see--we, too, have a development of the Scanner Beam. This beam was trained upon you from the very moment you drove into the palace grounds. We learned your true identity and purpose."

Ketrik went dry inside. It would have to be that, the one thing he couldn't have foreseen! He spoke to the screen. "Very well, so I have lost. I suppose I can expect no reward for saving the Princess."

Something showed in the dark depths of Vaajo's eyes. Amusement? But he spoke thoughtfully. "Very well, you shall have your reward. I think I will send you back to Mark Travers--in a most unique way!"

Quite suddenly then, Ketrik knew. He knew the reason for the beam he had seen launched into space, and almost he grasped the principle of it. He felt his insides twisting up into cold, hard knots. But he managed to say, "You mean--that just a part of me will go."

Vaajo chuckled. "So. You saw last night's display, felt a taste of it perhaps, and you have guessed. Yes, your surmise is correct! We utilize the Rajec caravans. Two hundred yesterday, and fine specimens they were! But they are now mere walking hulks, devoid of all but the most meager mental impulses. Their bodies will be sent north to work the Uranium pits. Their minds have already been absorbed into my--shall we say, weapon, increasing its potential considerably."

Ketrik's brain seemed to twist inside his skull, until he could not tell whether he felt horror or fury or both. He only knew he must keep control, learn more of this grisly thing that Vaajo was conducting with human minds.... He found his own voice, hard and dry, saying, "Yes, I saw it last night, felt it ... but still I cannot understand...." He passed a hand across his forehead in seeming bewilderment. He heard Vaajo saying, "It cannot matter now, for my beam reached Earth last night ... yes, it would please me to tell you something of it! You must have heard of the ancient city of M'Tonak, lying far beneath Mars' Polar Cap. And the sentient thought-force that came from outer space, or another dimension--no one ever knew--to land at M'Tonak where it remained for untold centuries. Through all that time the Entity remained barely alive, unknown to man, sustaining itself by sending out invisible radiations that fed on Martian minds! And you must have heard of the Earthman, Jim Landor, who found his way there and destroyed the Entity, leaving it crushed beneath tons of ice. All this was before your time or mine. Over a hundred years ago...."[3]

[Footnote 3: _City of the Living Flame_, Planet Stories, Fall, 1942.]

Ketrik nodded. He had heard the story many times.

* * * * *