"The next floor. But you can't escape. Nobody ever escapes from this
house."
* * * * *
Bemmelman stirred, opened his eyes, sat up groggily. His face was
puffy, swollen. Blood had dried on his chin. He didn't say anything.
The clatter of many feet resounded on the stair outside the boudoir.
Mia clutched Cosmo's arm, said: "They're coming!"
Cosmo took the dart gun from his pocket, narrowed his green eyes. "You
go first, Bemmelman, if they rush us. Understand?"
The slave breeder glared at Cosmo, moistened his battered lips. "What
do you want me to do?" He spoke with difficulty.
"Clear the tower. Order everyone into the rest of the house."
Bemmelman nodded sullenly.
Cosmo saw one of the mirrors shiver violently. Then the panel slid
back. The stair was jammed with naked blue Jovians and Venusian serfs.
The slave girl, Llana, was in the forefront. She pointed at Cosmo,
screamed: "There they are!"
The Jovians started to surge through the narrow door.
Cosmo drew a bead on Bemmelman's thick neck, smiled grimly.
Blood drained out of the planter's face. "Get out!" he cried in panic.
The rescuers halted, stared stupidly. The ones in the rear continued to
push forward causing momentary confusion.
"Get out!" Bemmelman raged. "Get out, you fools! D'you want to get me
killed? Clear the tower!"
They began to withdraw sullenly.
Cosmo stepped after them, slid shut the panel. He could hear their
footsteps retreating down the stair. He let his breath escape through
his teeth.
"Keep your eye on the Blue Venus, Mia. She's a shifty wench."
Mia seized a candlestick from a dainty Martian table, said, "This isn't
going to hurt me half as bad as it will you," to Sofi.
Cosmo dug the dart gun into Bemmelman's kidneys. "Let's go up to the
telecast room." He pushed the planter ahead of him through the door.
The stair well was deserted, silent.
"I smell roses," said Mia.
Cosmo thought he detected a glint of triumph in the slave breeder's
eyes. "Up the steps," he said grimly. "At the first sign of treachery,
Bemmelman, I'm pulling the trigger."
They reached the telecast room without opposition. It was a small
square chamber banked with control panels. An opaque screen was built
into the left wall. There was only one chair.
Cosmo closed the door, motioned Mia and the Blue Venus to one side.
"Now, Bemmelman, call your head overseer; have him shut down the force
screens."
The red-faced planter laughed shortly, said: "No sir." He had regained
his composure. "No sir, you won't kill me. You'd be throwing away your
only chance to stay alive. The force screen stays up."
"That's what I thought you'd say." Cosmo slipped the dart gun in his
pocket. His eyes became hard green stones. "What about the Ormoo's
feeding ground? Why do you want to know where they eat?"
"That's my secret." A sullen note crept into Bemmelman's manner.
"You don't want me to mess you up, do you, Bemmelman?" Cosmo asked
softly.
The planter flinched, but didn't answer.
Cosmo knocked him sprawling against the wall. He heard Mia gasp. He
said evenly: "What about the Ormoo?"
Bemmelman tasted the blood in his mouth, said: "You'll never leave here
alive, Cosmo. You won't be able to carry tales.... Now wait a moment!
There's a plant the birds eat that contains a drug...." He paused.
Cosmo's eyes narrowed. He had the impression that the planter was
listening, waiting for something to happen. He said, "Go ahead."
"The drug accelerates maturity. It acts directly through the glands."
"How did you hit on the discovery?" A feeling of revulsion made Cosmo's
hands tremble, but his features were inscrutable.
Bemmelman chuckled amiably. "This information won't do you a bit of
good," he said. "No sir, not a bit."
"Go ahead."
Bemmelman shrugged. "Well sir, I've been curious about how much
longer it takes for an Ormoo in captivity to mature than the wild
bird. The wild Ormoo, you know, reaches its full growth in less than
a year. That's an amazing phenomenon when you consider its size. Yes
sir...." He paused again, mouth open, then hastily went on: "Yes sir. I
wondered if it wasn't the wild birds' diet. I sent a man into the Cloud
Mountains to locate an Ormoo. He found your bird's nest."
Cosmo's green eyes were opaque. Revulsion for the slave breeder welled
in his throat.
* * * * *
Bemmelman's manner was derisive. He rubbed his nose, said: "One day my
man found a shrub in the nest. He sent it to me on the chance that it
might be what I was looking for. It was. The leaves contain a drug,
which, when injected into the bloodstream, accelerates maturity at an
unbelievable rate." His lids drew down. "I injected it into one of the
slave children in minute doses every twenty days. The child reached
adolescence in eighteen months. In two years' time, she was full grown."
"You can breed slaves like guinea pigs now, eh Bemmelman?" Cosmo's
voice was low. "And in two years' time have them ready for the market."
Bemmelman said, "Certainly," and paused.
"What are you listening for?" Cosmo asked suddenly.
"Nothing. Nothing at all." His little eyes darted about the room.
"Unfortunately," he went on hurriedly, "I used up all the drug on
the experiment, and I haven't been able to locate any more of the
plants. No sir, we've scoured the Cloud Mountains. They're difficult to
explore. Infra red rays help some, but not much."
"Who's the spy you planted among my men?" Cosmo interrupted in a cold
voice.
Bemmelman shut his mouth with a snap.
"Who is he? Tell me, Bemmelman, or by heavens, I'll work you over until
your own mother couldn't recognize you."
Still the planter didn't reply.
Cosmo hit him in the mouth. The planter's head struck the wall. He slid
down to the floor, said groggily: "It doesn't matter. No sir. I won't
need him any more. He's a Martian. His name's Natal."
Cosmo wasn't surprised. They'd found the Martian wandering apparently
lost in the mountains. A sly fellow, always curious, always prying.
Cosmo turned to the telecast. He felt Mia's horrified eyes on him;
the child-like stare of the Blue Venus. He switched on the telecast,
signaled his headquarters in the Cloud Mountains. At the third attempt,
he got through.
To his surprise, the inscrutable mien of the Mercurian runaway
flashed on the visoscreen. His amber eyes twinkled, a smile split his
Buddha-like face, and he bowed three times until Cosmo could only see
the top of his head.
"I see you got through all right," said Cosmo dryly. A faint hiss
seemed to be coming through the audio. He tried to tune it out, but the
hiss persisted.
"Yes," said the Mercurian. "Delightful fellows. But blood-thirsty. You
should hear the tales they've been telling." He shuddered.
"I've heard them," Cosmo interrupted. "Often. Where's Big Unse?"
"Playing truk with the men. I'm on duty at the telecast."
Cosmo frowned. The hissing noise was louder. He said: "I haven't time
for you to call him. I'm at the Bemmelman plantation. I'm holding
Bemmelman himself as a hostage. Tell Big Unse to bring the Ormoo. You
follow in the surface plane with the men. Don't land. Hang in the
clouds above the plantation until I whistle for the Ormoo. Oh yes. Be
sure that Natal, the Martian, comes along. Got it?"
"Yes."
Cosmo flipped off the telecast, frowned. The hissing had not stopped.
There was the faintest smell of roses in the air. He felt suddenly
dizzy. Mia gave a small cry and crumpled to the floor.
"Paralysis gas!" he thought and wheeled toward Bemmelman, almost lost
his balance as he did so.
The planter's head had dropped on his chest. He raised it groggily,
leered with triumph at Cosmo. "Concealed tubes," he muttered. "Every
room."
Cosmo swayed. He fumbled at his pocket. His hand emerged with the dart
gun. He strained to elevate the gun, send a poisoned needle into the
slave breeder. His muscles refused to obey him. The gun sagged. His
knees sagged. Then slowly, he toppled sideways.