"A Daniel Come to Judgment"
Short moments ago Stephen Duane had been drinking deep of the heady
wine of victory, basking in the radiant sunlight of renascent hope. Now
a cold shadow overwhelmed that sunlight; the savor of triumph soured
on his lips. He turned slowly to the man standing defiantly captive
between Beth and Jon.
"Is this true, von Rath?"
The Nazi met his gaze with belligerent hauteur.
"It is true, Stephen Duane."
"But why? Why did you do it? We were enemies once, I know. But we
formed a pact of friendship ... a promise of mutual assistance--"
"Pacts! Promises!" sneered von Rath. "What are these but empty words?
Eric von Rath is no fool, _mein Leutnant_. He knows when a cause is
doomed. And if ever a rebellion was foredestined to failure, this one
is. Could any but a foolish, vain-glorious Yankee expect _this_ motley,
undisciplined army--" His eyes swept the rebel host derisively--"to
overcome the magnificent science of the Overlords?
"_Nein!_ It is no victory you have won here today, but a single minor
skirmish of a hopeless rebellion. Surely, the Daans, even before
they surrendered, sent a message to the Sinnaty garrison. Soon will
come--perhaps even now it is on the way--an avenging host to wipe out
this pitiful handful of upstarts.
"I, Eric von Rath, am a realist. I acknowledge a master race when I
see one. I acknowledge the Overlords as masters of Earth. That is why
I liberated Rodrik. That is why, when the Daans retake this place, _I_
shall win a place high in their favor."
Lafferty grated, "Not you, weasel! When the Daans come--_if_ they
come--you ain't going to be here to see them. Because--" And he took a
swift stride forward, an already crimson blade balanced judicially in
his hand.
But Duane stopped him. "No, Chuck!" he ordered.
Chuck swiveled, his eyebrows twin parentheses of astonishment. "_What!_
You mean to say that even _now_, after what he's done, you ain't going
to--"
"I _am_ going to," pledged Steve tautly, "but I myself; no one for me.
Von Rath is mine. I shall take care of him personally--when I have
time to do so. But now--" He swung to the warrior captain--"Jain, your
forage sack, quickly! There is not a moment to waste."
The Mother Maatha asked anxiously, "What are you going to do, O Dwain?"
"I'm going after Rodrik. He has no more than a couple of hours start,
and Sinnaty is a long way from here. If I'm lucky, I may be able to
head him off before he can reach the Daans and spill the beans."
The Priestess Beth stepped forward, eyes lighting.
"So be it, O my mate! With the speed of the woodland hart we shall
pursue him."
"Not _we_, Beth," corrected Duane. "You're not going. This is my job;
one I must do alone. You are needed here. Stay with Chuck and help him
consolidate this position, that we may use Loovil as a rallying place
for our ever-growing forces."
"But," cried Beth, "it is not fitting that a Woman should desert
her mate in hour of peril. The way is long, and the forest dark and
treacherous--"
"One," interrupted Stephen Duane, "can travel faster than two. And now
every moment is precious."
He took from Jain the knapsack she had slipped from her own shoulders;
the forage bag of the woodland women which contained salt and meal,
_taters_ and dried meat, tinder ... all the small necessities of a
hasty trek.
"Guard von Rath well, Chuck. I'll be looking forward to meeting him
again when I return. And now--good-bye. No, Beth! I have said you must
stay here."
For the girl had followed him to the doorway. But there was no stubborn
insistence in her eyes as she lifted them to his. There was, instead,
something else. Something incredible. A softness Stephen Duane had
thought never to find mirrored in the eyes of a woman such as this, his
warrior priestess.
In a small and trembling voice she whispered, "I shall come no farther
than this, O Dwain. But--but before you depart, can we not as man and
woman once more perform the touching-of-mouths you taught me?"
And the nearness of her warmed him for the perilous journey ahead.
* * * * *
Stephen Duane had hoped to catch Rodrik of Mish-kin before that
traitorous Brother of the Daans reached his Sinnaty goal. He had
vowed to press forward at forced speed, halting no oftener than
was absolutely necessary. But one thing he had failed to take into
account was the fact that the urgency spurring Rodrik was as great as
that which goaded himself. Rodrik knew vengeful swords would pursue
him. He knew his life was forfeit should he be apprehended before he
attained the sanctuary of the Daan citadel. So fear lent him a speed
commensurate with Steve's determination, and because he was a strong
man, woodland-trained, he maintained his precious advantage over his
pursuer.
So closely did Duane press him that once, in the coolness of the dawn,
he found a pallet of leaves still warm where Rodrik had rested briefly
during the night. Again he found upon the roadway both used tattered
shreds of a still-hot carcass; a rabbit Rodrik had killed and eaten
raw, not daring to take time to cook his meal.
But it was not until Steve passed half through the deserted village of
Covton and saw lifting before him the shimmering arch of the Sinnaty
bridge that he actually glimpsed his quarry. Then, though his legs had
been leaden with exhaustion, he spurred himself to one last desperate
effort and almost closed the gap between himself and the fleeing Rodrik.
But the Mish-kinite, whose flight had been that of a frightened
Janus,[7] turned and saw him--and he, too, whipped a final reserve of
energy from his flagging body.
[Footnote 7: Janus: Roman god with two faces, each looking in a
different direction. After this god is named our month of "January",
which looks back at the old year, forward to the new one.--Ed.]
Thus it was that before Steve could draw within bowshot of his
betrayer, Rodrik had screamed piteous appeal and won himself the
protection of a Daan patrol. These same Venusians spotted Duane, waited
for him, and took him into custody.
Their leader growled curt challenge to both humans.
"What is the meaning of this? Know you not it is forbidden armed humans
shall approach our citadel? Death is the penalty for such folly."
But Rodrik bleated, "I flee in peril of my life, O masters. This man
pursues me. I am Rodrik of Mish-kin, a Brother of the Daans."
And when piscine eyes narrowed upon Duane he was forced to adopt the
same shibboleth. "I, too, claim sanctuary," he panted heavily. "I am
Steve of Emmeity. I, too, am a Brother of the Daans."
The Daan captain glared at them malevolently.
"Methinks the Daans," he complained, "have all too many human Brothers.
But--" He shrugged--"you have claimed the right of judgment. I shall
take you to one in command."
Steve clutched at a straw of hope. There was one Venusian who might
be expected to proffer him a certain favoritism. "Take us to the Lady
Loala, O Captain!" he demanded.
[Illustration: "I demand the right of judgment!" said Steve. "Take us
to the lady Loala."]
And in the same instant Rodrik of Mish-kin cried, "Convey us to Malgro
of the Council!"
* * * * *
But the Daan chieftain silenced them both with a gesture of his
crystaline weapon. "Silence. Pangru of Daan heeds not the advice of
earthling scum. You shall plead your cases before Okuno, Overlord of
all human disputes and Chief Executioner."
Thus a few minutes later the two earthmen, pursued and pursuer, were
herded to the judgment chamber over which presided the Overlord Okuno.
It did not lessen Steve Duane's gloom to discover that Okuno was the
less tyrannical Overlord who had interceded in his behalf when first
he had been taken captive by the Daans. On that occasion he had been
accused of no crime greater than that of wandering without a travel
certificate. This time the accusation hurled against him would be that
of treason. He had been warned of, and knew full well, the punishment
he must expect: destruction of the cylinder on which was engraved an
electrical transcription of his brain pattern. And with this--sudden
death to himself.
Nor was the accusation long in coming. Rodrik of Mish-kin burst into
speech the moment they entered the room.
"Hail, O Master!" he cried. "May the Daan empire reign forever!"
"So be it," replied Okuno formally. "You may depart, Captain." With a
gesture he dismissed the warrior and his corps, then turned to the
pair before him. "What is the meaning of this? I recognize you two as
Brothers of the Daans. Why are you brought thus hither before me? Are
you not they who were sent to seek the hidden rebel refuge of Fautnox?"
"We are, O great Okuno," clarioned Rodrik.
The Overlord leaned forward. His gravely gentle face might have been a
carven mask for all the emotion it displayed. But his eyes brightened
with interest and his hands moved tensely. "And--found you this place?"
he breathed.
"We did, O Lord of the Master Race."
"Now by Jarg and Ibrim," gasped Okuno, "false gods of the earthling
race, heard you any word concerning the fabulous Slumberers?"
And--Stephen Duane took a deep breath, braced his shoulders rigidly.
This was it. The showdown.
For a moment he toyed with the idea of whipping his sword from its
scabbard and forever stilling Rodrik's traitorous voice. But that, he
knew even as the thought flashed through his brain, was a hopeless
dream. Before ever he could draw his blade, the watchful Okuno could
unleash destructive lightning from his crystaline hand-weapon. The only
thing to do was wait. Wait and hope.
Rodrik laughed, and in his laughter was a note of brazen triumph.
"Aye, that we did, my Lord! And behold, he who stands before you, the
human Steve of Emmeity, who by my guile I lured back to judgment in
this citadel, even _he_ is the one known as Dwain! _He_ is one of the
Slumberers!"
The Overlord stiffened, and his eyes swung, startled, to Steve. "What!
A Slumberer--thou? Does this human speak the truth?"
* * * * *
Steve shrugged. He could deny it, yes. But even then it would be only a
matter of time before the Daans discovered the truth. And he could not
see that denial was of any use now. He was doomed, anyway. Faltering
or hesitation on his part would only increase the Daan's contempt for
the valor of earthmen. If his last contribution to the cause of human
freedom could be to instill in Venusian breasts one iota of admiration
for earthling courage, and perhaps a spark of fear because a Slumberer
had defied them, then he would not have died in vain.
So with a single contemptuous glance for the traitor beside him, he
drew himself proudly erect and faced the Overlord boldly. Boldly he
nodded his head.
"It is true, Okuno," he said. "I am one of the Slumberers, wakened
after fifteen hundreds of years to lead my race to freedom."
What he expected to attend his pronouncement he did not rightly know.
Outrage, certainly. Anger, possibly. Sudden death, perhaps.
But none of these followed his declaration. Instead, he had the
satisfaction of seeing the almost colorless lips of the Daan pale
utterly. Of seeing a proud Venusian Overlord stunned and shaken. The
Executioner Okuno stared at him as one stricken. His breath rasped
through his lips.
"Then--then the myths, the old legends, were true! Three _did_ sleep
for centuries, and--"
"And have risen now," gritted Stephen Duane, "to lead their people out
of the bonds of slavery. Yes, Overlord of Earth, count the passing
moments as precious gems. For each of them brings nearer the time when
you and all of your race will be exiled to the stinking marshes of the
planet which spawned you."
Rodrik of Mish-kin gasped.
"Blasphemy, O great Okuno! For all the Brothers of Daan I renounce this
false god and the cause he espouses. Your permission, Sire, and as
token of good faith, I shall destroy him, here and now."
"_Nay!_" Okuno's crisp command halted the traitor's movement. "You have
done Daan a great service, Rodrik of Mish-kin, but now you presume too
much. It is not yours to take judgment into your own hands. This man
must be dealt with as all traitors to the Brotherhood. We will make an
example of him. _Guard!_" He clapped his hands and warriors appeared
as if by magic. "I have certain preparations to make. Bring these two
humans a short time hence to the execution chamber." And he left the
room.
* * * * *
And so, when scarce an hour had passed, Stephen Duane found himself
being led to that great vaulted chamber which was the execution room
of the Daan Overlords. Okuno had not exaggerated when he said he would
make an example of this occasion. "Spectacle" might have been a better
word. For the amphitheatre was jammed. There were gathered into it
scores of humans who, by the _camaraderie_ with which they mingled with
the Daan warriors, Duane rightly judged to be the assembled fellows of
the Brotherhood.
He and Rodrik were motioned to a central dais, the execution dock.
There they stood, side by side, Rodrik smirking triumphantly, Steve
matching his grin with one of derisive bravado, while the Overlord
Okuno addressed the throng.
"There stand before us," he proclaimed, "two members of the
Brotherhood. One true and noble, worthy to be acknowledged a fellow of
this group. The other a scoundrel and a traitor. You are gathered to
watch the justice of the Daans.
"Behold, O gathered Earthmen. Watch and tremble. To that human who
worked nobly and well for our Brotherhood shall be allotted great
honor. To him who proved a traitor in our midst shall be meted
destruction. The cylinder of him who would have betrayed us has been
placed within the destruction chamber. Behold now the vengeance of the
Daans--swift, terrible, and just!"
And he lifted his arm in a sign. The Venusian guard closed a master
switch. A high thin whine rose to lose itself in ultrasonic heights.
Crackling waves of electricity sputtered in a metal cubicle across
the room. Within that chamber a cylinder blazed into sudden, fiery
oblivion. And in that moment--Rodrik of Mish-kin screamed aloud, once
and horribly, and dropped dead at Stephen Duane's side!