Gunnar and Odin followed the hedge for a long way, until they came out
against the far side of the dome. The noise of fighting still continued.
It was back of them, but drawing nearer. Odin guessed--or hoped--that Ato
and Val were driving the defenders before them.
They came out upon a lane that was flanked by the beautiful colonnades.
Near them was one of the entrances to the tunnels below, and beside it was
one of the stone cressets with a high-flaring flame. At the end of the lane
was a dais. Upon this dais stood Grim Hagen, shouting instructions to a
crew of white-skinned, soldiers below him who were trying to set up a
strange machine. It looked like a model of Saturn balanced upon a tripod.
Except that it had three concentric rings about it.
Grim Hagen's shirt was scorched and tattered. It was falling from his lean
shoulders. His face was seamed and lined. The muscles upon his neck stood
out in cords. His hair was gray now. His left arm was gashed from elbow to
wrist, and blood was dripping down his fingers. He dashed the drops aside
as he screamed orders. His black eyes still blazed with that old feral
hate, and though the years had wasted him, his hips were still as thin as
an Apache's and he looked iron-hard.
Odin and Gunnar knelt beside the railing that marked the entrance to the
tunnels below. Neither Hagen nor his men saw them.
Gunnar grasped Odin's shoulders and pulled him down. "Listen," he whispered
in Odin's ear. "Do you hear anything strange?"
Odin listened. Above the tumult behind them came that same sound which he
had heard out on the plain. A whining, purring sound. The purring of a
tiger feeding contentedly.
Then screams drowned out the whining sound, and Odin wondered if he had not
imagined it.
Nearly a hundred of the defenders came running toward Grim Hagen. They were
in mad flight now. Most of them were weaponless. Grim Hagen cursed them,
rallied them about him, and urged them to pick up new weapons and fight.
Now, Ato and Val and another hundred men came charging forward.
Leaving three men to set up the strange machine, Grim Hagen's trained
Aldebaranians met them. They clashed head-on--blade against blade, fist
against bone. They held there, like two wrestlers evenly matched. For a
moment Grim Hagen's men were forced back. Then some new defenders swarmed
out of the side-alleys and joined them. A head was poked up from the
stairway below, Gunnar split the man's skull and sent him tumbling down
upon some new replacements.
Now Grim Hagen spied Odin and Gunnar as they advanced to help Ato.
Standing upon the dais, his face livid with rage, Hagen pointed to them and
screamed--as mad as any of the last Caesars who had gone insane from too
much power.
"Look, men of the Lorens," Hagen cried, still pointing. "I will give
immortality to the men who bring me those two alive."
The first two to reach Gunnar and Odin died at the end of Gunnar's and
Odin's swords.
"Your immortality does not last very long, Grim Hagen," Gunnar shouted as
he wiped his blade.
Then another man came up the stairway. Odin killed him and flung him back
upon the men who followed.
But reinforcements were pouring in from other lanes. Grim Hagen and his
men now numbered over a thousand.
Seeing Odin and Gunnar, Ato swung his men over against the subway entrance.
They rallied there. Grim Hagen's soldiers came at them. Ato, Gunnar, and
Odin stood side by side and led the counter-attack that forced them back
upon Grim Hagen's strange machine.
But Hagen's men rallied and drove them back again--almost to the stairway.
"The next drive will get us," Ato groaned. "Brace yourselves, men."
* * * * *
But the next drive did not come. Suddenly a dozen screaming wretches--they
could no longer be called soldiers--came running up the street. They joined
Grim Hagen's men and gibbered in fear as they pointed back.
From down there came a sudden burst of music. Odin's heart leaped when he
heard it. It was the old song of the Brons. But the lights were burning low
back there and as yet he could see nothing.
Then they came. Nea and Maya, walking side by side. Behind them were
half a dozen women, playing fifes and horns. One was carrying a tattered
flag. Behind the musicians came a motley crowd. Old women, young women,
half-grown children, and dozens of old men. All were armed. And they
came forward like the wrack of a surviving army at judgement day.
Oh, there was something noble about them, and pitiful too. And something
terrible. For before them, floating upon the air like bobbing heads were
Nea's four fantoms, the Kalis, whining hungrily as they came, their copper
hair trailing about them.
One caught a fugitive as he lagged behind--and he died screaming.
[Illustration: Grim Hagen's men writhed helplessly in the grip of the
Kalis' deadly copper hairs!]
The Kalis darted this way and that and Grim Hagen's men writhed. Their
muscles clenched. Their jaws set as though tetanus had struck them. They
slid to the marble street and died.
And the Kalis laughed and whined and screamed as they fed. Even above their
feeding-song and the screams of their victims came the shrill, triumphant
cry of Nea urging them on.
Nor was the rest of Maya's army still. One old Bron who had been a slave of
Grim Hagen for too long had found a shotgun among Hagen's treasures and was
blasting away. They were armed with everything from staves, blunderbusses,
old forty-fours and Sharps rifles to machine guns. They fired and fired.
Grim Hagen's men went down. But though dozens of ill-aimed shots were fired
at him, Grim Hagen still lived, dodging here and there, rallying his men,
and urging his gun-crew to finish setting up that odd weapon.
Few were left of the thousand that had rallied to Grim Hagen. But another
thousand were coming through the hedges from other lanes and streets.
Although it was a gallant, ragged little army that Nea and Maya led, it
would have lasted no longer than a straw in a whirlwind had it not been for
the Kalis. They appeared to be enjoying themselves, even as Grim Hagen's
men were not. They zig-zagged this way and that. They purred. They fed.
They were stronger now and their movements were quicker. Their victims died
faster.
* * * * *
And as they forged forward, Nea was growing in strength. She leaped after
them, leaving Maya to command the small army. She screamed. She urged them
on with a "Kill, kill, kill!" that froze the back of Odin's neck. Here was
no girl trained to work in a laboratory. This was a high-priestess, long
derided and forgotten, come back from the stars to wreak her vengeance.
"Good God," Odin was thinking. "What unexplored labyrinths are left in the
human brain?"
Then there was no time for thinking. The Lorens who were trying to gain
the stairway had finally dislodged the two bodies that Odin and Gunnar had
flung down upon them. They came up like a surging tide, and for the next
few minutes Odin and Gunnar were busy.
Gunnar had never been any happier in his life. He talked to his sword and
he growled at those that he killed. He yelled at Ato's and Maya's wearying
armies, urging them to go on and account themselves well. He stood by
Odin's side, and the two hacked and thrust until the stairway was chocked
with bodies and no one was left to assail them.
He and Odin were splashed with blood. The tumult was deafening. The
tiger-screams of the Kalis, the agonized torment of their prey. The
gun-blasts from Maya's army, the cry of Ato who had hacked his way almost
to Gunnar and Odin, the victory-scream of Nea, the broken music! And even
above this, the mad curses and commands of Grim Hagen!
Some of Grim Hagen's Lorens were in flight. Most of them were dead. But
his white-skinned warriors held firm. Not over a dozen were left at Grim
Hagen's side. Two were still working with the odd-shaped weapon.
There were other Lorens coming out of the hedges, but they held back.
They had seen enough.
Had fortune favored Ato then, his army would have won.
But at the precise moment when the balance was swinging toward the Brons,
Grim Hagen's gun-crew got the strange weapon unlimbered. The globe started
turning. Unseen motors roared within it. As though spun out like gleaming
strands of cobwebs, coils of light came flickering toward the attacking
Brons. Like blue-white ripples they went across the fore-running Kalis.
The ripples of light went on expanding. The shotgun in the hands of the
old Bron suddenly burst to pieces. The old rifles fell apart. The newer
machine-guns talked briefly, and then disappeared in a burst of flame that
took their masters with them.
The first coil of light struck Odin. There was a tingling sensation,
neither painful nor pleasant. But it went through his body like a mild
opiate. He did not want to sleep. He merely wanted to relax and forget
this slaughter. He fought against it. Gunnar leaned against him, suddenly
weak and shaken.
* * * * *
More widening circles of light swept out upon them. Ato's and Maya's
troops fell back. Those who had been armed with explosive weapons had died.
Odin was almost too weak to lift his sword. From the stairway below came
a scrabbling sound, as men pulled the corpses away from the stairs.
Nea's Kalis reeled back. She urged them on and they advanced like corks
bobbing on ripples of light. Three moved slowly toward Grim Hagen's
machine. A fourth faltered and fell back.
The Kalis were no longer screaming their frightful song. The purr of
victory was gone. Instead they yowled a savage, tormented scream as
though they had been cornered by an enemy they could not understand.
But the three moved forward, while the fourth hesitated behind them. As
though struggling against a heavy flood they came on. The gun-crew died
defending their whirling weapon. The three Kalis swarmed over it--like
bees smothering the enemy, Odin thought. The pulsing coiling light died.
There was a burst of flame. The weapon and the three Kalis suddenly
became one immense sardonyx that blazed huge and grand for a brief
moment. Then the jewel-blaze burned out, and a handful of ashes sifted
to the ground.
The fourth Kali was undone. It tried to go forward against that jewel-fire.
Then it hesitated and darted back. With a shrill cry of fear it flung
itself into Nea's arms, its coppery tentacles holding her close in a last
effort to escape destruction.
* * * * *
She had said before that the Kalis were the nearest things to human that
could be made. She had been the poor relation, the daughter of a dreaming
failure. Perhaps something of the fear and doubt which Nea had known all
her life had gone into the making of the Kalis. She screamed once--more in
bewilderment than pain, as though a favorite cat had suddenly clawed her.
She must have been dead before she fell, and the last Kali clung to her
bosom and spread its copper-wires about her face. It emitted one weak
purr--then it stopped purring and moving forever.
Grim Hagen's Lorens who had been clinging to the hedges now came forward
triumphantly. Strength came back to Gunnar and Odin. The attackers had
cleared the stairway again. And once more Gunnar and Odin threw them back.
By now both Ato and Maya had swung their shattered little armies over to
the subway entrance.
Hagen had retreated from the dais. Meeting the advancing Lorens, he led
them forward.
Those on the stairway retreated as they saw that they were no longer
against two warriors.
Gunnar rested his sword against his leg and reached out with huge arms
and pulled Ato and Odin toward him. "Down there," he pointed toward the
stairway. "There is plenty of room to fight, and those who have been coming
up don't seem to be so strong. Force your way down there and make another
stand. Make a barricade if you can. Up here you will soon be surrounded."
"But Grim Hagen will be at our heels--" Odin protested.
Gunnar laughed deep in his throat. "Oh, no. The stairway is narrow. A
strong man could hold the entrance for some time--perhaps a long, long
time. And Gunnar is strong. To get at you, Grim Hagen would either have
to go down this stairway or take another entrance. These entrances, are
few and far apart."
"Go with Maya, Ato," Odin said, "and I will stay here with Gunnar."
"No. The entrance is narrow. You would be in the way," Gunnar protested.
"Now, go! Oh, but the valkyries will be busy tonight!"
* * * * *
Ato and Odin led the rush down the stairs. There were only a dozen men
below and they had already tired of warfare. Three fell and the others
rushed off into the shadows.
Ato's and Maya's fighters tumbled after them. There were only a few of the
old people and children left.
Now they found themselves in a huge room which was filled with benches and
small machines. It was evidently a wood-working shop. The room was lit by
several of the high-flaring cressets of stone. It was rectangular, about
the size of a football field. They were fortunate that there was no heavy
machinery left here. From each side, dim-lighted tunnels led off into the
distance. While Odin and the strongest soldiers guarded, Ato and his people
shoved benches, tables and chairs to the four tunnels and set them afire.
There were still quite a number of benches left, and some of these were
stacked close together into one corner of the room, making a sort of rude
balcony that looked down upon the littered floor. More benches and machines
were left. These were made into a barricade a few yards in front of the
balcony.
All was done now that could be done. So Odin rushed back to the stairway
to help Gunnar. But his heart sank as he stood at the foot of the stairs.
Up there was nothing but swirling, violet flame. Some liquid was burning
furiously at the entrance-way, and blazing rivulets were pouring down the
steps. There was no way to go through those flames. There was now no way
to go around. Gunnar, if he lived at all, must fight alone. And Odin's
eyes filled with tears as he cursed himself for deserting his old comrade.
* * * * *
The attackers were almost upon Gunnar before the last of Maya's rag-tag
army had gone down the stairs. There were high bannisters around the
entrance-way. These afforded plenty of protection to his back and flanks
unless someone scaled them, which he doubted. One of the heavy cressets was
burning nearby. It seemed to be no more than a huge, open lamp. Standing
upon a circular base about three feet across, the twelve-inch stem went up
nearly eight feet and then flared out into a tulip-shaped bowl that was
filled with flickering violet fire. Bending low, Gunnar grasped the bottom
of the stem and moved it a little closer to the stairway entrance. It
took all of his strength, but it moved, complaining as it slid along the
flagging. Now he was almost under it. The light was in his opponents'
faces, and it gave a little added protection to his left side.
Gunnar braced himself, his long blade high over his shoulder, both hands
locked to the long carved haft.
"Grim Hagen," he called mockingly. "Here we are at the edge of the stars.
Just you and I left on top of this world. Just you and I of the two crews
that sailed from Opal. The mad gods have made bonfires of the suns.
Ragnarok has come and passed. I have no quarrel with these people, Grim
Hagen. Come forward now and let the two of us end what should have been
ended long ago--"
* * * * *
Grim Hagen silenced his men and screamed back: "Gunnar, what I say now I
have said before. I promised you death. But I will let you go free--and
all the frightened rats below can go free--if you will give me Wolden's
secret--"
"I know nothing of Wolden's secret. It may be nothing but a twitch in your
mad brain. The old Blood-Drinker and I know but one secret, Grim Hagen, the
secret of death. Step forth like a man now and I promise you more peace
than even Wolden's secret could give you."
Grim Hagen said no more to Gunnar. He sent four companies in the direction
of other entrances to the underground city. Then he martialled his
remaining men and threw them toward Gunnar in threes.
Three by three they came, and three by three they went down. Braced on
his strong, short legs Gunnar flailed them like wheat. Screams and curses
filled the night. And Gunnar piled the dead before him.
One by one the companies returned to Grim Hagen and reported that for the
present there was no other way into the room below.
Grim Hagen held a short council of war. He had less than a score of the
white-skinned soldiers left. These he sent at Gunnar in a body, and came
following after with the remaining Lorens.
Gunnar cut them down, but a leaping soldier died as he buried his knife in
Gunnar's side. The Lorens were throwing sticks and stones when they could.
They closed in like dogs upon a wolf. Gunnar reeled back and then advanced
once more as he swung his broadsword.
He cleared a path and sent his attackers back until they stood about him
in a circle, their fangs ready.
And then Gunnar reached forth and took the stem of the huge torch high up
in his hands and bowed his back. The lamp rocked upon its pedestal and then
came crashing forward. Its fuel spilled down and caught fire as it fell.
Flames leaped up and lashed out at the Lorens.
The fierce flames drove the attackers farther back. But in falling, the
great lamp careened and half of its liquid had splashed across the entrance
to the tunnel. It caught fire. Gunnar gasped as it struck him. Then he
strode forward, like a dwarf-king advancing from Hell.
A thrown knife caught him in the chest. Gunnar took another step, and
another knife caught him below the throat. He stood there, trying to go
on, and a mace thudded against his temple.
Gunnar reeled back into the flames.