"Just wait and find out!" Nicko said.
* * * * *
The Baserite turned even grimmer of face. "I am taking no chances.
This plan must work. My brother just died down there in their reeking
vat--"
Mike was astounded. "You mean you had a key? You could send the whole
cell block to his rescue? But you let him die?"
Ice glazed over the pain in the Baserite's eyes. "There is much more
at stake here than one life. A nation. The time was not right. I had
hoped my brother would be spared a few minutes longer but it was not
to be."
Mike marveled anew. Truly--these Baserites were men of iron will.
"When?" Mike asked grimly.
"Soon." Mertaan took a small, strange-looking weapon from his pocket.
It resembled a pistol enough to be identified as such. "I wish I could
offer you arms, but smuggling them in was very risky. What few we have
are in the hands of picked warriors."
Sweat was standing out on Mike's brow. "Never mind the guns. I just
hope it's soon. The next one to go into that vat is a girl who--"
The Baserite's eyes filled with quick sympathy. "One of you, my
friend?"
"One of us."
"I can only hope the ships come first."
Mike licked his dry lips. "But if they don't--you say you have some
guns--the keys." He was looking at the Baserite with fixed
calculation, his thoughts transparent.
Mertaan had no difficulty in divining them. "We cannot move until the
ships come. If you strive to change this I shall kill you swiftly and
silently. I shall kill everyone in the cell to ensure silence."
Mike's look remained fixed. He knew he did not have the courage to
watch Doree die horribly when there was a key and a weapon within his
reach. He deliberately forced the cold look from his face but whether
the Baserite's suspicion was lulled, he could not tell.
Mertaan smiled coldly and said, "There is another of your kind in the
cell block."
* * * * *
Mike took a step forward, but the Baserite stepped warily back. "An
old man?" Mike asked.
"A very old man. He is four cells down. We know nothing of him because
no one can speak his language."
Professor Brandon! Mike sent up a silent prayer of thanksgiving. "He
will be released when the time comes?"
"If he chooses. None will be forced to go against their wishes, but I
cannot imagine anyone refusing."
Mike turned to the bars gripping them hard. Several priests were
working ghoulishly over the body of the dead Baserite. Mike looked
toward the various entrances to the pit. Through which of these would
they bring Doree? He prayed that none of the doors would open.
But as though part of a plan to torture him, one of the doors opened
suddenly. Two guards came through.
They were leading Doree.
She was very pale and seemed to Mike to have grown increasingly
beautiful. She wore a simple golden robe and the guards did not treat
her as roughly as they had handled the Baserite. Small consolation.
She had found a great courage and walked serenely with her head held
high and Mike's pride and love almost burst his heart. Desperately he
tried to keep control over himself.
* * * * *
Doree advanced under close scrutiny of the guards to the point at
which the Baserite had been slain. She appeared empty of all fear.
Then a priest advanced and stood for a moment looking at her. In his
hands he held two lengths of golden chain. A great silence fell over
the watching prisoners in the cells, every eye glued on the priest and
this beautiful girl.
Then a great roar of anger arose as the priest reached out and whipped
Doree's gown from her body. She stood naked in the center of the pit.
Mike went mad. With a roar he turned and hurled himself upon Mertaan.
The latter, even though sharply alert for attack, was not quick enough
to get his weapon into action against Mike's lightning rush. Mike
closed with him and they went down.
The Baserite was probably the stronger of the two, but his strength
was no match for Mike's demoniacal rage. His hands went around the
Baserite's throat. "Must I kill you?" he snarled, "or will you give me
the key?"
There was no fear in Mertaan's expression but now, under pressure of
Mike's steel fingers, it changed. He appeared to be listening for his
own death.
But not for his death. He tore frantically at Mike's fists and got a
few words past them. "Listen--listen, man! Can't you hear them? The
ships are coming over! The time is now!"
Mike could not understand the words but the meaning got through to him
as a high whining sound transcended the roar of the prisoners. And
Mike realized the roar had not been caused by the priest's unveiling
of Doree's beautiful body, but by the whine from above. The prisoners
knew that the moment had come and they were already pouring from the
cells.
Mike sprang to his feet and lifted the Baserite. The latter snatched
the key from his jacket and unlocked the front cell-gate. Mike went
through first to find himself packed into a plunging, screaming mob.
Here and there he spotted a Baserite frantically trying to establish
some sort of order in the ranks of the prisoners. But they remained a
snarling, bloodthirsty wave of disorganized vengeance. Mike tore his
way savagely through the pack with Nicko and M'Landa close behind him.
"We've got to get down first!" he yelled. "She'll be killed in the
rush!" Even now, below them, the panicked priests were knocking each
other down in their rush for the exits.