Part 2

Devries was watching his friends' faces. Either they didn't know what was going to happen or were pretending not to. Devries said: "You know what he means by the Ritual! It's just his polite word for the torture I was telling you about!"

None of them answered, and he knew that they knew.

V'Naric's emotionless black eyes watched them.

They drew, recklessly, and Blake held the shortest slip. His face went suddenly pale but he did not say a word.

V'Naric was disappointed. He stared past Blake at Ketrik. He said, "I wish it were you," as his eyes tinged with the angry orange again. He glanced around at them, then he went on musingly: "The _Lahk-tzor_ need not know, and it can make no difference. Yes, it will be you!" He gestured with the flame-pistol.

"That's all right with me," said Ketrik contemptuously. Blake started to protest but Ketrik brushed him aside. "It's all right, I know what I'm doing. I defy these devils to do their worst." But he flashed them a look that said, "be ready!"

But V'Naric watched too closely. As they moved to the doorway he kept the pistol trained. He produced the key that shut off the electrical barrier. They passed outside, and it leaped up again.

The three men inside could dimly see through it. And they saw V'Naric's eyes turn away for a half-second.

Ketrik bent and lunged forward in one swift motion, flooring the frail Proktol in a vicious tackle. He snatched up the flame-pistol and sprayed it in a semi-circle as other Proktols came rushing in. Four or five fell with holes burned through their frail bodies. Still others came. Ketrik's arms flailed. His fist caught one squarely in the middle, and the brittle shell-like skin popped open in a wide gap as a thick colorless fluid oozed out. He hit another in the head, something snapped and the head dangled grotesquely. Ketrik's knee came up and another Proktol popped open, exuding a viscous stuff.

But there had been too many out there waiting. Their bodies were frail but their limbs were like steel cables. The men just inside the room could only look on helplessly as Ketrik went down, still swinging elbows and knees. A dozen wiry arms lashed him to the floor.

V'Naric rose to his feet, staggering a little, holding his middle as though he wished to vomit. He snatched a flame-pistol, aimed it, and changed his mind. He gave a staccato command in his own language.

"Can't blame me for trying!" Ketrik sang out to his friends, as he was hurried down the stairs.

* * * * *

Through the window they could see the horde of tiny Proktols still gathered in the square below. Suddenly the murmuring leaped to a louder clamor. Then they saw the reason for it. Ketrik was being dragged out into the square, through the throng toward a little dais. From the dais rose a single pillar of stone.

They fastened him securely to the pillar. The clamoring subsided a little. Those savages were waiting for something--just as the three Earthmen were waiting, watching the scene below them.

Some of the larger Proktols brought a huge metal disc, perhaps three feet in diameter. A hole was in the center. They put it over Ketrik's head and it rested on his shoulders.

"I don't like the looks of that," Janus muttered tensely. "What are they going to do?"

But they weren't through. Next, over Ketrik's head they placed a spacious wire cage which clicked into place on the rim of the disc.

"My God!" Blake said suddenly, staring. "Do you suppose they're going to run some kind of voltage through that thing?"

"That's a nice pleasant thought!" Janus snapped at him.

Devries turned away from them both. He knew better. "No," he told Blake hoarsely. "No, not that. Better come away."

But they couldn't come away. Horror, especially an unknown horror, has a fascination. They saw some of the Proktols seemingly in consultation. Presently a couple of them hurried away, and all that could be heard from that massed throng was a gentle murmuring as they swayed restlessly, waiting.

Then in the room behind them they heard the electrical crackling in the doorway cease. V'Naric stood before them again, ever watchful with the flame-pistol.

"That was a very noble effort on the part of your friend," he said, "but quite useless as you can see. Moreover, he killed some of my men, and I do not think he helped the rest of you by that." His eyes glittered. "Yes, before the Ritual ends this time I think all of you will have participated."

"We haven't got your damned Shining Stone," Blake grated through clenched teeth, "and we never even heard of it!"

"The Shining Stone? Oh, yes, I had quite forgotten I told you about it; but I neglected to say that it is quite safe. It is always quite safe, even when it is stolen; because, you see--_we_ stole it."

"_You_ stole it!" Janus repeated. "But didn't you say the Stone meant little to such as you?"

"Only as a means to an end. Commander Janus, you are a scientific man above all else. For that reason I respect you as much as I despise your stupid friend down there. I shall explain the Ritual you are about to witness. First: those little savages think you Earthmen stole their Shining Stone, because we wish them to think that; and you could never convince them otherwise. Therefore they must have their revenge. All this is very necessary for a certain reason you will understand shortly."

"I'm beginning to already," Blake said bitterly. "It's a high-powered racket and we're the fall guys."

V'Naric looked at him as though he didn't quite understand such English words.

A sudden, louder murmur came up from below.

"It has begun," V'Naric said, nodding toward the window. "If you will observe, please."

The men turned back to the window and watched. Devries at least half knew what to expect; but he felt the other two tense beside him as they realized the purpose of that cage over Ketrik's head.

A little door in the side of it was open, and one of the official Proktols was thrusting several tiny animals inside. They were sharp-fanged, scaled, almost reptilian. But they had beady little rodent eyes, and the eyes blinked as the animals scurried around the disc under the cage. Ketrik's head jerked convulsively at the nearness of them.

"Little inhabitants of our desert," came V'Naric's calm voice across the room behind them. "Ordinarily quite tame and harmless. But these are trained for this. They are very hungry."

The Earthmen's minds were too numbed just then. They didn't feel the full horror until sometime later. They just stood there in terrible fascination, staring down, unable to move; and behind them they could still hear V'Naric's cold voice, as though he were a class-room lecturer. He didn't even need to look as he spoke. He knew what was happening. He had seen this many times.

"The little creatures are a bit restless now. I imagine the way your friend moves his head frightens them. But they will become used to that presently, and then their work will begin."

But something else was happening down there. The crowd had become silent, not even a murmuring. They all seemed to be looking in the same direction, away from the dais where the Earthman was fastened. Then a path opened up. A procession of the large Proktols came through, with something on a movable platform in the midst of them.

Again V'Naric's voice: "I suppose the _Lahk-tzor_ is entering now. Or the Brain as you would undoubtedly call it."

"Good Lord, yes," Janus murmured at last, staring. "That's what I'd call it, for that's what it is!"

* * * * *

The Brain was huge, five feet or more across, convoluted and pale but red-streaked. A dome of glass enclosed it. Beneath the bulging, pale-pink mass was something that might have been two tiny eyes and the veriest excuse of a chin, but from their distance the Earthmen could not be sure.

V'Naric's voice droned on, beating through their numbed consciousness: "You are wondering about the Brain. Long ago one of our race, one far ahead of his time, created it. In a period of six months he advanced evolution from a single cell through all its stages to what you see now. The _Lahk-tzor_--pardon me--the Brain down there is the most advanced evolutionary product yet to exist in this solar system. It slew its creator, but seemed to exhaust all its energy in so doing. For a long, long time it lay dormant. Such scientists as there were at the time tried to activate it, for they knew it wasn't dead; but their efforts were clumsy and futile.

"Then one day it began to pulse and think again, feebly. Do you know when, and why? I think you could guess, Commander Janus. It was the day the Shining Stone came flashing to land here. That event caused a tremendous religious hysteria among the savages, and it wasn't hard to connect that with the Brain's revival; the Brain was absorbing the accumulative mental flow that was impacting against it! Of course it has long been proven that thought is material just as light is material."

Of the three, Janus alone was beginning to show a gleam of interest as he listened to the toneless words. "I think I see the whole system now," he said bitterly. "Periodically you pull this Ritual business and get those little savages down there religiously worked up, in order to--" The idea was so ghastly he choked on the words and couldn't go on.

"In order to keep the Brain mentally activated," V'Naric finished for him. "Precisely. To those savages it is nothing more than a religious ritual, brought about by the revenge motive. But to us it is a scientific necessity. The Brain teaches us much. It was the Brain which thought out all our technicalities of space travel and most of our other achievements. By now it realizes we have no intention of letting it die; but periodically its thought-processes seem exhausted. When it feels that happening it informs us. Then we must activate it again, through the accumulative mental-hysteria of those thousands of little Proktols. It is easy to steal their Shining Stone, keep it safely in our custody awhile, and bring some hapless spacefarer here for them to vent their hysteria upon. A little complex and a little sardonic, but very necessary."

Janus, listening, nodded dully. He was remembering the huge fleet of space-ships they had seen waiting out on the desert; but he did not mention them. Instead he said: "And right now, what scientific problem is the Brain working on?"

V'Naric seemed proud to talk of the Brain, appreciative of Janus' scientific interest in it. "We can never quite tell what the Brain is thinking," he explained. "It propounds scientific theories to us, we put them to the test, and they are usually practical. But this I know: lately a change has come over it. We are sure it is planning something big. It never used to question us much, but now it is beginning to, about other planets, the solar system, the universe. Then it ponders.

"You see, it has never been away from here. It is restless now and I think it has ambitions! But we shall learn its plans when it has thought them through. From the astronomical data we have furnished it propounds vast calculations. Mathematically it is supreme! And it ponders...."

* * * * *

Now, suddenly, the sound below burst forth into a tremendous surge of unified shrilling. Hysteria. That's the word V'Naric had used, and this sounded like it! As if something interesting had started to happen.

They turned quickly to the window again. Yes, something had begun to happen. There was a wide flow of red down Ketrik's cheek. The sharp-fanged little beasts under the cage had begun their work, just as V'Naric had said they would. Another of them darted forward. Ketrik's head jerked, but it was useless. Another flow of red started down; again came the surge of hysterical sound.

No man should have watched that scene long, but they couldn't tell how many minutes they stood there at the window. Blake cracked first. He whirled away suddenly toward the doorway.

But V'Naric had silently gone, and the crackling sheet of flame across the entrance filled the room with a bluish glow. Blake stood tottering a moment, horror still in his eyes, a little moan deep in his throat; then he staggered over and flopped into a bunk at the side of the room, turning his face away.

Janus and Devries continued to look, but only for a few minutes more. V'Naric had said those vicious little animals were hungry; now, becoming bolder, they darted frequently at Ketrik's twisting head only a foot or so away. Ketrik didn't utter a sound, but every time another red streak started down they saw his features were contorted. Pretty soon they couldn't even see his features.

His eyes were shut tight, but once he opened them and twisted his head around and saw the men looking down. He tried to smile, but it was a grimace. He called, "Devries, remember what you swore! Do it! Get back to Earth if you can, then bring men out here and blast these devils to the hell where they belong! If you promise somehow to do that, I won't mind this so much. Don't watch any more, no telling how long--"

Ketrik stopped on that word, as his head jerked violently away again.

And all the while came the shrillings from the immense, watching throng. The men heard it rise and fall, rise and fall, in regular cadence. They could almost feel the impact of the hate going out, the hate for that Earthman who supposedly had violated their sacred Stone. Those savages didn't wish to tear Ketrik limb from limb; they had been trained in _this_, and it was a better revenge, more to their enjoyment.

A little apart, carefully guarded, was the huge Brain, grotesque and convoluted under its glass dome. Janus even thought he could see it pulsing rhythmically as the bursts of sound and thought-force swelled out to it. That tangible force was being absorbed, and gradually the Brain was taking on a deeper hue than the pale-pink.

Savagely the men paced the stone room. They examined the electrical barrier across the door, which was too obviously deadly. "How long does that go on?" Janus asked in horror, nodding toward the window.

"To the very end, I'm afraid," Devries replied. Twice more in the following hours he moved to the window, only to look quickly away when he saw the horrible thing was still going on. He couldn't see Ketrik moving any more, but the beasts were still at work.

And then, it must have been hours later, Devries awoke from a fitful sleep. He was conscious that all was silent as a tomb below. He crept to the window and saw that a weird kind of greenish, shadowy nightfall had come over the place. All those savage Proktols had gone away, and the Brain was gone, and the square below was empty. Save for Ketrik. He was still there, and the cage was still over his head, but it was empty.

Thank God, Devries thought, it's all over for him. But who will be next?

* * * * *

When next he awoke it was day again, or what served for day on that shadowy world; and the first thing he saw was Blake over at the window.

"You fool, come away from there!" Devries cried, springing up. "What good is it to watch? It's all over now for Ketrik anyway."

Blake turned to face him, and Devries saw a look in his eyes similar to that he had seen in the Martian's.

"He's alive, still alive!" Blake cried. "And it's still going on!"

It was then Devries heard those sounds of hate surging up again, and knew that the throng had again gathered to watch; but it was Blake's voice, and the look in his eyes, that made Devries' blood run cold.

"And I should have been down there instead of him!" Blake said; but the voice didn't sound like his any longer.

Devries should have watched him closer. He turned to wake Janus. Blake sprang suddenly past him, toward the doorway. Devries made a grab at him and missed. Blake leaped straight into that crackling sheet of electrical blueness.

But he didn't get through. He seemed to hang suspended in the air for a few seconds; then he crashed to the floor across the doorway, as the electrical flame enveloped and crackled over his body.

There was nothing they could do about Blake except keep their faces averted from the entrance where his charred body lay. But they couldn't close their ears to the waves of sound that came up from below. It seemed even more suggestive than before. Blake's words kept hammering in Devries' brain: "He's alive, still alive!" Blake had been the last to look out that window. Devries hated to think of what he had seen down there.

Grimly they examined the room again, although they'd done so a hundred times before. Two bare stone walls. In the third wall the window, far too narrow, and the adjacent stones solid and unmovable. In the fourth side the doorway, open except for the deadly sheet of blue crackling across it.

"That's the only way," Devries said, nodding toward it. "I'm sure V'Naric will be around here again; when he comes, watch for my nod and we'll make a rush. If we die, at least it won't be the way Ketrik did."

V'Naric did come again. He stared down at Blake's charred body and shook his head distressfully as he shut off the flame. He motioned for some of his men to take the body away.

"That is too bad," he said. "Very wasteful. It leaves only two of you." He nodded to the window. "It will soon be over with your friend down there, and I regret that. The fools have allowed it to progress too rapidly!"

Janus' attention was more on the flame-pistol than on the words. He glanced quickly at Devries, but the latter flashed him a look that said no.

V'Naric must have seen it. He raised the pistol slightly so that it leveled between them. "You are quite right," he said, "it would not be wise."

Janus tried to engage him in more conversation, but V'Naric seemed to know his purpose. He left, still watching them carefully as he shut off the flame and stepped out and turned it on again. His last words were: "I will leave you to decide between yourselves who will be next. It will be soon."

* * * * *

Janus whirled angrily. "Why didn't you take the chance? Now we're sunk. We'll probably never have another!"

"You're wrong," Devries replied. "Empty your pockets, quick!"

Janus stared at him, uncomprehending. "That slot in the doorway!" Devries explained. "I watched how V'Naric worked that key. I can't hope to duplicate it, but if we have a pocket knife or something--we _might_ make a short circuit! Should have thought of that before."

Already he was searching his own pockets, and Janus quickly followed his example.

But their hopes waned. Neither of them had a knife, and what was worse, they had nothing else that might serve the purpose.

Devries turned away in despair. "Wouldn't you know it! And I always carry a knife--all except this time!"

Janus was still searching. Suddenly he gave a shout as he produced something from an inside pocket. A round, flat metal object. Devries saw that it was an ancient half-dollar. He had seen very few of them, and only in museums.

"My good luck charm," Janus said wistfully. "I've carried it with me ever since my first space flight."

Devries seized it eagerly. "We'll see how lucky it is!" He examined the narrow slot in the doorway, but its length was considerably less than the diameter of the coin. Nor could he tell how deep that slot was.

"We've got to get this down to proportion," Devries said grimly. "Even then it may not work, but we've got to try anything." He began rubbing the edge of the coin against the bare stone, and the rounded edge flattened infinitesimally. "Quite a job on our hands; we've got to get this diameter down to less than half!"

Taking turns, they kept at it, holding the coin in strips of cloth to protect their fingers from the heat of the metal. While one worked the other watched the doorway. Occasionally a Proktol passed by, but V'Naric did not come again.

Once Janus moved to the window and ventured to look down at the Brain again, but carefully kept his gaze averted from the spot where Ketrik was. Now he could distinctly see the huge mass of the Brain pulsing with the impact of the thought-force that swelled out to it. And now it was not pale-pink, it was red. It was even more than blood-red, it seemed fiery. He could sense the pulsing power of it, the super-mental force, and it seemed diabolic. Here, he knew, was a dangerous thing, a thing that should not exist in this solar system.

"Do you know what I think?" Janus said, turning back to Devries who was again working on the coin. "That Brain is mad! It's bound to be. God knows how long it's been receiving those Proktols' thought-force, living and thriving and planning on it--and that thought-force is hate! V'Naric said it's getting ambitions. Ambitions for _conquest_, I think. That's all that fleet of space-ships out there can mean!"

They worked slowly but steadily with the coin, gradually wearing its diameter down to fit the slot in the doorway. What they feared mostly now was that the Proktols would very soon be through with Ketrik down there, and one of them would be next.

But luck was with them. Suddenly, startlingly, that green shadowy nightfall came again. "Listen!" Devries said. All was silent again in the square below. He rushed to the window and saw the throng dispersing. The Brain, on its portable platform, was moving away into one of the buildings. Apparently the Ritual was over for the day.

"We'll have to work fast!" Devries exclaimed. "This side of the planet's away from Neptune now, but we don't know how long it'll last. This is our last chance!"

They worked frantically, risking skinned fingers on the stone wall. About an hour later Devries tried the mutilated coin in the slot, for perhaps the twentieth time, and this time it fitted. But would it reach as far as V'Naric's key had reached? Devries wrapped his fingers carefully with strips of cloth before he tried.

For a moment he thought it was useless. The metal touched nothing. Clumsily he managed to slide it forward a tiny bit more, and the silver oblong barely touched a hard surface.

Instantly at the contact there came a sputter of fused metal. The silver became suddenly hot under Devries' fingers. Sparks leaped out and burnt his hand. But he didn't care. He suppressed a joyous shout as the sheet of electrical flame across the doorway ceased.

They sprang through the door and stood a moment in the dim corridor, listening. Evidently their tampering had caused no other alarm. They moved swiftly to the stairs leading down into the square.

Peering down through the greenish dusk, they could see one of the Proktols at the bottom of the steps, evidently on guard. Devries gestured downward, and Janus nodded silently.

Those steps were solid stone, and they negotiated them silently by all Earthly standards, but they had forgotten these creatures had super-sensitive hearing. They weren't over halfway down when the Proktol sprang up, whirling to face them.

Devries acted on sheer instinct. He made the remaining distance through the air in one prodigious leap. The Proktol had reached for its flame-pistol, at the same time opening its mouth to sound an alarm. But there was only a shrilling gasp as Devries' shoulder caught it in the middle and hurled it backward.

Devries climbed to his feet, a little dazed. Janus took only one look at the Proktol and saw that the frail body was snapped in two; quickly he confiscated its flame-pistol. They stood quite still, listening, but there was no alarm.

* * * * *

In some of the radiating streets they could see the weird glow of many colored lights moving about, but the square seemed empty now in the gloom. They started to move across it, when something caught Janus' attention. He stopped.