Hanging overhead in the center of the sphere, not suspended in any way
she could see, was an area of glowing greenish-yellow luminescence that
hurt her eyes. She lowered them to the shimmering, scarcely visible
transparent platform beneath it. Sin stood there almost as though
floating, enveloped in a voluminous black robe from neck to heels. Her
lips, parted in an anticipatory smile, looked black in the greenish
light.
Beside and just below the platform stood a huge cylindrical vat,
also made of transparent material but plainly visible because it was
filled to the brim with some pale lavender fluid. Beside the vat rose
a long-boomed hoist, the hook on the end of its chain now hanging
empty, and attached to the wall of the vat was a complex mechanism of
distorted tubes, warped helical coils and irregularly shaped boxes
studded with knobs and handles. An elevated chair was provided beside
the controls.
A network of glittering woven cables, branching and rebranching, lying
in loops, littered the bowl-shaped floor in seeming disorder. But all
led to the machine on the Vat. One cable, as thick through as a large
man's arm, curved upward unsupported and vanished into the glow of the
Gateway.
Several hundred people turned in silent expectancy as Wor entered. The
men almost without exception wore uniforms and the women were sleek and
well dressed. A quick glance showed Margaret that the more glittering
decorations were gathered toward the center, nearest the Vat and the
platform upon which Sin waited.
Wor guided her to the front rank, shoving roughly aside those men and
women who did not clear his path rapidly enough. Stooping, he found the
end of a cable and buckled the metal strap in which it ended around
Margaret's wrist.
"What do I do?" she wailed in uncertainty.
"You will know, and then I will know more about you. But so will Sin,
so be careful."
He left her and turned to inspect the seven naked, mindless slaves who
stood in empty-eyed imbecility beside the Vat. He exchanged a few words
with two soldiers who stood near. They chose a girl slave first, and
at their command she meekly extended her hands. With the quick skill
of much practice they linked her wrists together and slipped a loop of
the binding over the hook of the hoist chain. The eyes of the watchers
turned appraisingly upon the girl's lash-scarred body, their faces
twisted with expectancy and hunger, as one of the guards forced the
girl's head back and popped a small pellet into her mouth. She gulped
and swallowed obediently.
Wor climbed to the elevated chair and took his place at the controls
of the machine on the Vat. Sin looked down, nodded to him, and made a
beckoning gesture toward the doorway.
From the outside came a procession of--things. The Luvans. They looked
like oversized, unfinished caricatures of men, but their faces were
utterly inhuman. Except for beady black eyes they were a fuzzy, pasty
grey all over. Repulsive wart-like lumps sprouted all over their
bodies. Ominous looking creatures, as alien to Varda as they would have
been on Earth.
The leading Luvan climbed stolidly to the platform. Sin turned,
unfastening and tossing aside her cloak. Her bare skin gleamed
yellow-green in the Gateway's glow. Then she and the Luvan met in the
middle of the platform and _merged_ in an indescribable way that
stopped the breath in Margaret's throat, became one in a kinship of
_alienness_. The faces of the watchers writhed in ugly loathing.
"Sasso comes! Great Sasso comes!" The words began as a mutter and
swelled to a concerted roar that shook the sphere. It was a cry of
exultation, but mingled with it was an unspoken, questioning longing
strong enough to make itself felt.
"_Tonight?_"
* * * * *
The Gateway was no longer formless light. _Something_ was there.
Margaret shuddered and had to lower her eyes.
The Sin-Luvan form on the platform leaped and _flowed_ in wild
contortions of a significance that made Margaret grow faint, yet held
her enthralled. The thing in the Gateway became clearer in outline,
larger, as though approaching from an immense distance. For an instant
it seemed about to break the bonds of the Gateway, to enter into the
world of Varda itself. An expectant, thrilled hum went up. Then the
thing recoiled and the throng muttered in disappointment.
Sin spread her arms and arched her nude body backward, a living
green-ivory statue as she gazed up into the Gateway. And the
thing--Sasso--twisted as though communicating with her by its motions.
The priestess made a slight motion to Wor. Instantly his hands moved.
Margaret had almost forgotten the cable attached to her wrist, but as
Wor touched his levers force flooded her body. For a few seconds it
was excruciatingly painful, as if it were liquid fire, but gradually
through the pain she felt _alive_, fully and abnormally alive. She was
acutely aware of every fiber of her body, of each separate hair, each
pore of her skin, each muscle and tendon and bone.
That too changed, became an ecstasy of utterly alien vileness that
overwhelmed and submerged her own consciousness. She was no longer
herself alone. She was a part of Great Sasso and yet herself more than
ever. She was powerful, and nothing was impossible or wrong. Only for
an instant did she struggle, more startled than inherently repelled by
the strange sensations. Then she surrendered herself completely and
utterly--and gladly. She was floating in the exultation of an alien,
unguessable obscenity. She had become Of the Faith.
And in that _oneness_ many things became clear. She knew that Sasso the
Conqueror, Sasso the Incomparable, came from afar to bring his boon to
the Faith of Varda. And she knew that the machine and its cables were
merely a temporary expedient, until Great Sasso should burst through
the Gateway to his destined supremacy. Then They of the Faith, like
Sin, the high priestess who was already old in the service of Sasso,
could _merge_ and become one more directly.
And she knew what bonds barred Great Sasso's way. The inimical thoughts
of the Rebels, those ungrateful wretches who had not only rejected
Sasso the Wonderful but through the concerted power of their thoughts
managed to do _something_ to prevent the passage of the Supreme One
through the Gateway. The Rebels must be destroyed! They must! They
must! Her only wish was that Sasso _come through_. She could sense the
thoughts of Sasso's other worshipers, their intense desires so exactly
like her own.
But _oneness_ with Sasso was not without cost. She could feel herself
weakening. Her knees sagged and her vision blurred.
Sin at last gave Wor a signal. The flooding force stopped abruptly and
Margaret sank weakly to a sitting position. Around her many others did
likewise.
The slave girl's thin scream of despair caught Margaret's attention as
Wor touched the controls and the hoist raised her, swung her over the
Vat. She was no longer a mindless automaton as she was lowered toward
the seething lavender fluid, but a human fully aware of her impending
doom. Margaret watched in horrified fascination.
The girl screamed again as her feet touched the surface, this time in
agony, and drew her legs up in a convulsive spasm. Slowly, inexorably
Wor kept lowering her. She screamed again and this time was unable to
raise her legs clear.
Deeper and deeper she was plunged into the pale liquid. The slave girl
seemed to dissolve as she touched, for although Margaret could see
through the transparent Vat no part of her body was visible below the
surface. Finally the screaming stopped. The girl had vanished utterly.
Wor raised the empty hook.
The cable and wristband led a new force into Margaret's body, a force
that left her refreshed, replenished. The worshipers around her
straightened and their dulled eyes grew brighter. Even the nebulous
image of Sasso within the Gateway glowed with a more vivid fire, as
though he too had _fed_.
Then once more the power of Sasso flowed, bringing dreams. Alien
dreams--dreams of vileness so deep it became enthrallingly
beautiful--dreams of conquest, world after world--dreams of great and
very precious rewards for those who were Of the Faith.
Again the form of Sasso bulged at the Gateway, and once more drew back.
Angry frustration entered the projected dreams--and yet the knowledge
that an eternity of ageless tomorrows lay ahead.
Through her trance Margaret sensed the grey and boneless form of a
Luvan beside her. It touched her tentatively, then withdrew, and she
could feel its thought.
"Not yet--but soon for this one."
Seven times in all a slave was awakened from mindlessness by a pellet
of restoring drug and lowered into the lavender fluid of the Vat to
feed the Sasso-entity and revive its worshipers with the very essence
of life. To Margaret the slaves were not human beings at all. She was
now Of the Faith.
And then the last dream faded. The Gateway dimmed to a formless
yellow-green glow as Sasso retreated. Sin wrapped the cloak around her
white body. The Observance of Sasso had ended. All around her there was
an awakening, a stirring.
Wor left his place and pushed his way toward her. He eyed her
approvingly, for he had been watching and had found her suitable. She
had not resisted Great Sasso. But his brows were creased in thought.
* * * * *
Outside the fresh night air brought her brain to full activity,
thrusting forward half-memories of things she had not consciously
noticed during the Observance.
At one time, cutting through the _oneness_ of the group, had come
a thought of different, more penetrating quality than the others.
A thought not of the wondrousness of Sasso but of the beauty and
desirability and irresistible attraction of Sasso's priestess. And
she had seen Sin half turn, even in the very presence of that she
worshiped, to locate its source. Oh, Victor was a sly one. Margaret
frowned uneasily. His look when she chose Wor had been laden with
malice, and he could become dangerous. Sin had been pleased by his
thought.
Wor was silent until they were in the air.
"Soon--as soon as I am ready--the resistance of the Rebels will be
crushed. Their forests can not protect them forever from the Forces
that I, Wor, command." His eyes were alert for the effect of his words.
"Why don't you wipe them out immediately then?" Margaret asked,
thinking of Sasso's _coming through_.
"For one thing, they are clever."
Something in his words made her realize he meant more than he had said,
that his motives were not as simple as they appeared.
"You mean--?"
Wor looked at her searchingly. "One person, or two of opposite
sexes, will acquire supreme power when Sasso _comes through_. Sin
thinks because she is so old in the Faith that it will be she alone.
But I have labored harder, devoted myself to the Faith even more
wholeheartedly than she."
"But wouldn't that be treason against Great Sasso?" The thought left
Margaret aghast.
Wor shook his head. "Sasso is far too great to care who receives the
Power. With my knowledge of the Gateway and the Machine of Life,
with your Earth brain that can project thoughts with such powerful
intensity--"
"But--"
"Do you think you are safe?" Wor broke in angrily. "You are enough
like Sin herself to know that she--" He did not need to complete his
sentence. Margaret understood. She was well treated now--but Sin could
change her mind.
"You and I--together," she agreed. Margaret was an ambitious woman.
With casual ease Wor landed on the fortress roof. Margaret started down
the ramp toward her quarters but the big man seized her elbow.
"No," he corrected. "This way."
* * * * *
In the morning Sin sent a messenger to Wor's rooms. The priestess of
Sasso had known exactly where Margaret had spent the night. But she did
not know of the things she and Wor had discussed in quiet whispers.
"Did you find Wor a satisfactory companion?" Sin greeted her.
Margaret eyed her steadily. "He's scarcely a mental giant," she
replied. "A bit uncouth, but otherwise adequate."
The answer seemed to amuse Sin. "And did you like the Observance of
Sasso?"
"It's--it's--" Margaret was at a loss for words but her face betrayed
the tremendous hunger to wallow once more in Sasso's alien vileness.
"How soon again?"
Sin smiled at her enthusiasm.
"You are one of us now, and the inherent character of your Closed World
brain will help overcome the Rebels all the sooner," she declared.
A nagging worry gnawed at Margaret's mind. "How about Victor?" she
asked.
Sin's face became masklike and unreadable. "He has become Of the Faith
too. He may amuse me--for a while. Something new, you know."
Margaret nodded. She dared not probe too deeply.
"Just remember that I am Sin, and that in Varda my word is law."
Margaret wondered whether the ruler was suspicious or had uttered the
warning on general principles.
V
For several days Krasna was out most of the time, and when home she
was usually exhausted. Eldon was aware he was sharing her dwelling
on sufferance only, because she pitied his maimed body and abysmal
ignorance of this strange world, so in consideration he repressed most
of the insistent questions pushing at his lips.
He spent many lonely, idle hours--when not indulging in orgies of
self-pity--studying the scrolls he had found.
One dealt in scholarly fashion with the history of Varda, telling of
a relatively small but highly civilized group, the Superiors, and
a much larger number of uncivilized, barbarian Puvas. Most of the
scroll dealt with the efforts of the Superiors to teach the Puvas the
arts of civilization. It told of a populous, fairly happy world with
a highly integrated culture of which Eldon had seen no trace, and it
ended abruptly in the midst of a discussion of the economic system. The
ending puzzled him. It was so--unfinished.
Whenever he tired of reading he investigated the marvelous mechanisms
the girl used so casually. They left him perplexed, for they had no
manual controls and he could not make them work at all. He dared not go
out, for the girl had warned him that for her safety as well as his own
he should remain underground. She had not explained.
The luminous walls bothered him particularly, and finally he asked her
about them. She seemed surprised he did not understand.
"Just put your hand on a wall anywhere, so," she directed. "Now think
of light. With your Closed World brain you should have no trouble."
Nothing happened.
"Think harder," she admonished. "_Believe_ it will shine."
After a dozen attempts a wall suddenly flared into brilliance at his
thought and touch. After that it became progressively easier.
"But why? How does it work?" he asked, still a scientist.
She frowned. "The detailed knowledge was lost many man-lives ago,
when the Luvans _came through_ and caused the Collapse." There was
bitterness in her voice. "But of course it is by thought."
Eldon asked what she meant by the Collapse. She shook her head sadly
and refused to discuss it, but before going out again she pointed out a
small scroll he had overlooked. It was hastily written, an incomplete
and fragmentary continuation of Varda's history.
The progressive civilization of the Superiors had been interrupted by
alien creatures, Luvans, who had opened a Gateway from another world.
They were few in number and the Superiors had not realized their danger
until they had corrupted several individuals--the first of whom was a
woman called Sin--to the worship of their vile deity. Then a deadly,
devastating conflict had ensued, with those who refused to embrace the
Faith at a terrible disadvantage.
For something in the nature of the Luvans had caused the Superiors'
radiation-type power weapons to backfire whenever used near them.
And with horror the Superiors had discovered that no matter how cut
or bullet-punctured, the gross grey bodies of the Luvans repaired
themselves within hours. They utterly refused to remain dead.
Most of the Superiors had been destroyed during the first few months.
The survivors had been forced to scatter, taking to the forests.
Then the Luvans, lacking sufficient converts to establish an effective
cell of their Faith and unable to corrupt more of the Superiors, had
deliberately caused mutations to take place among the savage Puvas,
breeding individuals more suited to their plans. The mutants were
intelligent, but they lacked some of the Superiors' telepathic ability.
Eldon added up what he had read. Krasna was obviously one of the
surviving Superiors, the hunted folk whose coordinated thoughts and
mental powers held Varda against the Faith of Sasso. He remembered the
lighted walls and the other devices without manual controls. Evidently
thought was a tangible force here in Varda. Anxiously he awaited
Krasna's return, one question uppermost in his mind.
* * * * *
He blurted it out as soon as he saw her. "Will you take me to your
people? Perhaps they could return me to Earth."
Her body grew rigid and she stared at him in a silence suddenly grown
hostile. Her hand hovered momentarily over the deadly radiant blast rod
in her belt.
Then her eyes misted and her lips trembled. He knew he had unwittingly
inflicted a deep hurt upon her, that somehow his words must have
sounded like a taunt. He did not understand why, but he felt deeply
apologetic and tried to tell her so. Finally the unfriendliness died
from her eyes, but the hurt remained.
"My people?" she said in bitter unhappiness. "I have no people. I am
an exile."
With an angry gesture she ripped her jacket aside, exposing the
crescent-shaped red scar on her breast. "See this? It is the slave-mark
of Sin."
Eldon stared blankly.
Jerkily, with words deliberately held to matter-of-factness, she told
him. She had been captured by a raiding party of the Faith, gassed
into unconsciousness, and had awakened in the slave pits beneath the
Fortress of Sin. There she had been mistreated and tortured, dosed with
a drug to reduce her to a mindless automaton, and in a bestial ceremony
branded with the slave-mark. Her fate would have been eventual oblivion
in the Vat.
But she had succeeded in poisoning herself before the drugs took full
effect, and two mindless slaves under the direction of a mutant Puva
guard had tossed her dying body on a rubbish heap outside the walls.
She had intended suicide, meaning to thwart the Faith, but a spying
party of Rebels had found her barely breathing and rushed her to the
Chamber, the only person ever to escape the clutches of the Faith.
"I went to the Thin World while the Chamber repaired the effects of the
poison," she told him. "But even the Chamber could not remove _this_.
Not so long as Sasso lurks at the Gateway."
Before Eldon could interrupt with questions she continued.
"They would have been kinder to let me die, even in the Vat."
The Forest People remembered the havoc traitorous adherents of the
Faith had wrought among them, and would take no chances. Because she
bore the slave-mark and was therefore suspect, Krasna had been sent
into exile by the Council.
"The others can occasionally gather in small groups and fight their
loneliness together," she sobbed. "But for two years they have even
kept their minds closed against me. I'm completely alone, always."
Eldon felt a great longing to comfort the weeping girl. But even in
her solitary exile she regarded him only as an object for pity, not
as an equal and a friend. So there was nothing he could do but leave
her alone with her grief. It made him feel more sorry for himself than
ever.
* * * * *
Next day the alarm in the passageway hummed unexpectedly and Krasna
leaped up as a man entered. His clothing was of the same blue-green
material as hers, evidently intended to match the forest tints, and
a bulging weapon belt encircled his waist. A long sword swung at his
side, and he looked capable of using it well.
"Bolan!" Krasna greeted him with a happy cry and ran to his arms. He
held her affectionately.
"How do you dare--?" she asked through tears of joy.
The man made a disparaging remark about the Council. "After all, you
are my sister."
Eldon felt a relaxation of the tension within himself. His hostility
toward the man ebbed.
But Bolan glowered at the Earthman with black dislike.
"You certainly aren't helping yourself with the Council by keeping this
Outworldling here," he told the girl. "You'd be well advised to send
him into the forest."
"To die? But Bolan, he's harmless," the girl protested.
The man raised his eyebrows. "You think so? The other two _have not
appeared in the slave pits_. You know what that means. And with their
Closed World minds--"
Eldon interrupted in sudden anger. "Listen here. Margaret would never
join that Faith. The man, perhaps, but not the girl. If she's there it
is as a prisoner."