She sighed and snuggled closer, oblivious of the leering guard.
"Thanks, mister. That's better. A gal doesn't mind dying, but she hates
to go out feeling she hasn't hooked her man."
Rex felt a catch in his throat at the brave front she was maintaining.
And it had to be an effort. Jean was no fool. She was a realist. No
need to tell her they were finished--that he was no superman who could
kick down a wall and carry her to safety.
"Let's not think about anything but us," she whispered. "We have at
least a few minutes to live--really live!"
"With that guard standing there?" Rex said bitterly.
"Well, then we can almost live." She kissed him.
A few minutes later, he said, "Did you notice anything funny out there
in that council room?"
"What do you mean by funny? I was so busy looking at those tumbling ice
cliffs--"
"I mean the councilmen sitting on either side of Pandek. Not one of
them moved or spoke."
"That's right. They sat there like dummies."
"A row of dummies afraid to move even their eyes."
"There's something else that puzzles me," Jean said. "Those ice cliffs
are life and death to we Terrans down below. Then why do the Martians
build them up each winter and melt them for us in the spring? I'd think
they'd leave the plains arid and thus drive us out."
"I wondered about that too. There can be only one explanation. They've
repeated the process for so long they're afraid to stop--afraid of what
it might do to the overall welfare of the planet."
"Perhaps if they didn't the ice would pile up of its own accord and
crush them and their cities."
"I wonder how many cities there are."
"I don't care--really. Hold me closer. I'm cold...."
* * * * *
"But I don't understand why they would do such a thing as this," Tommy
said. He had released the girl and found her clothing in a corner of
the room.
"It is a part of some pagan rite they plan to revive. The victim must
lie in--in the manner you found me for a certain length of time. Some
weird looking priests visited me at intervals and recited incantations.
It was horrible!"
"What's your name?"
"I'm Helen Spencer. I came here with my father--"
"Never mind that now. I think we can get out of here. There was nobody
in the hallway when I came in."
"I'd like to find my father."
"We can try."
"They separated us a long time ago. For a while they treated me like a
queen, even though they kept me a prisoner. I wondered why. Now I know.
It was all a part of this terrible pagan sacrifice. I think the time is
very near."
"Then let's go."
But they had waited too long. The door opened and four Martian guards
entered. They almost filled the room. Tommy hurled himself at the
closest one but was knocked viciously back against the wall. It seemed
that fate had deserted him at last.
The Martian in charge, one who stood a head taller than the other
three, grasped Helen roughly by the arm. He seemed infuriated at
finding her dressed. He threw her roughly after Tommy and she too fell
to the floor.
The Martian stood there, undecided, some problem evidently occupying
his mind. The three subordinates waited in silence. After a few
moments, the leader turned and barked several sharp commands.
The orders puzzled the three Martians. They stood where they were until
the leader barked another sharper order. Then they turned and filed out.
The leader stood motionless until their footsteps died in the corridor.
Then he bent swiftly and lifted Helen Spencer to her feet.
As she cringed away, he said, "I am Maxis, a dictor in the Emperor's
guard. I think perhaps you can help me. If so, I may be able to help
you."
"You--you're speaking Terran," Helen said.
"Of course. Many of us know your language." He pointed to Tommy. "Who
is this one?"
"I don't know. But I'm sure he has hurt none of you. Please let him go
free."
Maxis shook his head impatiently. "It is of no importance. Tell
me--while you lay here bound, did they bring a man to see you? A very
old man--very feeble?"
Helen did not trust the Martian. After what had happened to her she
was in no mood to trust any of these people. There had been an old
man. The priests and a tall young Martian had practically carried him
in. They had stayed in the room for quite a while, the young Martian
talking harshly. The older one had pleaded with him. Had the old man
escaped? Helen wondered. Was this one hunting him down?
"You don't trust me," Maxis said, "but you must. If the old one came
he would have been brought by a young one. The old one would have been
horrified at seeing you."
"That's how it was," Helen said.
Maxis' eyes flared. He laid a quick hand on Helen's shoulder, then drew
it back. "How long ago was this? Tell me! How long ago?"
"Several hours at least."
"Then he still lives! They lied to us. Pandek lied to us!"
"If you would explain--"
"The man you saw--the old one--was Fanton, Lord of the North
Hemisphere--Ruler of Mars. Pandek told us of his death when he assumed
the throne. Only for this reason did the legions swear loyalty to
Pandek. But Fanton still lives!"
Tommy had got to his feet and was brushing his clothes. "Maybe not.
They might have killed him in the meantime."
"I have a feeling he is not dead," Maxis insisted. "I must find him. I
must not fail to find him!"