Deadlock
"Borisu!"
There is a limit to which human impassivity can be constrained. Gary
Lane had now surpassed his ability to play the ignoramus. The name
burst from his lips with explosive force. "Borisu!"
O'Day echoed the cry. "Borisu! But my God, Gary, that means--"
In his dismay Lark spoke in English. Their captor had been startled
enough at Gary's cry, but upon hearing speech in a foreign tongue from
the lips of a supposedly uncultured slave, his eyes opened wide in
astonishment. He demanded, "What _is_ this? Whence came you twain that
you speak a language I do not know?"
And his hand reached for the ray gun at his belt. But it never got
there. For Lark O'Day called signals in a language the Magogean could
never possibly understand. He cried sharply:
"All right, Gary, punt formation.... One, two ... _Hep!_"
And simultaneously the two Earthmen converged on their guard, one
high, one low. Gary, taking his cue from Lark's quarterbacking, made
no effort to wrest the weapon from the Magogean's grasp, but kicked
straight and true at the young lieutenant's wrist. The gun flew high,
and by the time it clattered to the paving Lark had smashed the young
_kraedar_ to the ground and battered him into unconscious submission.
Gary tugged at his friend's shoulder. "O.Q., Lark, that'll do. You
don't have to pound him into hamburger."
"Not hamburger," rasped O'Day, withdrawing reluctantly, "just a
reasonable facsimile thereof. He's the louse who said he wouldn't mind
making a play for Penny himself!"
Gary said, "Never mind that now. Somebody's going to make worse than a
play for Penny if she and Nora are ever taken before Borisu. You know
what that means, don't you?"
Lark nodded grimly. "Taps for the bunch of us. He's the one person in
Khundru who could recognize any of us beneath our disguises. And by the
time the gals get tidied up--Well, what'll we do?"
Gary said, "I've got an idea. You're about that guy's build--" He
nodded toward the prostrate figure. "Scramble into his uniform, quick.
Before somebody happens along this way. And while you're dressing, I'll
roll _him_ into _your_ rags."
"O.Q."
The shift was made. Finally a "slave" lay prone in the middle of the
corridor floor, and a handsome young _kraedar_ of the Magogean guard
towered above him.
"O.Q.," repeated Lark then. "What next, director?"
"You must have something on you," figured Gary, "with which to call
help. Find it."
Lark pawed the unfamiliar paraphernalia with which his uniform
was draped, finally discovered a small whistle. He looked at it
distastefully. "You mean I have to put this in my mouth and blow it?"
"Yes. Go ahead."
"I'll probably get hydrophobia," grunted Lark ... but obeyed.
* * * * *
The whistle brought immediate results. Footsteps clattered through the
tunneled corridor, and shortly questions were being hurled at the
false guard officer by an excited handful of Magogean soldiery.
"I was taking these two slaves to their quarters," explained Lark.
"That one is a trouble maker. He turned against me. I was forced to
strike him down. Cart him away. Throw him in the dungeon. You--" He
picked out a likely looking prospect Gary's size--"come with me while I
take this other where he must go."
So, as the band of soldiers lugged their unconscious _kraedar_
into durance vile, Lark and a soldier escorted Gary to the first
conveniently dark passageway. From this came shortly a thud, as of some
blunt instrument striking a heavy object ... and a few moments later
two warriors clad in the habiliment of the Magogean armed forces were
speeding upward through the labyrinthine corridors of the Palace Royal
toward those chambers to which the girls had been taken.
They had ascended three levels and reached the point in the Palace
Royal where the corridors were beginning to look less like passageways
of a fortress and more like the aisles and avenues of a residential
area when there burst about their ears a cascade of sounds at once
bewildering and startling. It was the clamor of a myriad of ringing
bells, sharp warning tocsins sounding an alarum of some sort. Whence it
came, at first they could not tell. Searching for an explanation, their
eyes discovered a series of grilled openings periodically spaced about
the wainscoting of the chambers through which they hurried.
Gary guessed, "A general communicating system of some sort, Lark.
But what does it mean? Do you think Borisu has seen the girls,
discovered--"
"He's hardly had time," demurred Lark. "But _something's_ up--no doubt
about that. Ah! Here comes someone. Perhaps now--" He lifted his voice
in a shout as a soldier clad like Gary raced into the corridor. "Hello
there, you!"
The Magogean warrior identified the rank of his accoster and halted,
saluting. "Yes, _kraedar_? Foot soldier Norad, preparing to take post,
sir, in accordance with emergency alarm instructions."
"Very good," approved Lark. "What is the nature of the emergency? Have
you any idea?"
* * * * *
The private nodded. "Yes, sir. An official telecast was just issued
over the diaphragm. It is a Gogean attack."
"A Gogean--?"
"Well, not exactly an attack, sir ... yet. Because the force barrier
prevents their entering Khundru. But a mighty army of the cursed
Darksiders has been spotted by our observation posts. They number in
the tens of thousands. They have been seen at every gate. Apparently
their army has completely encircled Khundru."
"Good!" said Lark. "I mean ... er ... very good, soldier. Report to
your post as ordered. Oh, what _is_ your post?"
"Main control tower, sir. The ultrawave cannon."
"Indeed?" Lark's eyes lighted sharply. "And where lies this tower?"
"Why, at the lowest level, of course, sir--" began the _tramir_ ...
then stopped abruptly, suspicion darkening his gaze. His voice changed
tone and one hand crept furtively toward the sidearm holstered at his
side. "But--but how is it that _you_ a _kraedar_, do not know--"
"That," said Lark softly, "is a question you must ask your ancestors,
_tramir_." And his hand, too, streaked to his belt. Before the startled
warrior could draw, a shaft of orange lightning seared the life from
his body. It was a charred carcass when it hit the floor.
Gary said regretfully, "Poor devil! He was only doing his duty as he
saw it."
"War," reminded Lark, "is war. The only good enemy is a _dead_ enemy.
We know where we stand now. The Gogeans are on deck as they promised
to be, and we know where the control tower is. Now if we can just lift
that barrier shield--"
"We must get the girls first," reminded Gary. "I think we're almost
there. Come on."
He was right. They sped through a few more chambers, then emerged into
an apartment more elaborately furnished than any seen so far. Into this
they shouldered rudely. At sight of them a gross figure, a mountainous
mass of jelly parodying Magogean manhood, came mincing up to them on
swollen feet emitting shrill little bleats of horror and dismay.
"_Kraedar! Tramir!_ A thousand pardons, but these are the _women's_
quarters. You have no right here."
"Beat it, capon!" grunted Lark, and with a twist of his foot sent the
piping eunuch sprawling. He lifted his voice. "Penny! Nora! Where are
you?"
At his cry a flurry sounded from an adjacent chamber as curtains flung
apart and Penny and Nora ran to greet them. They still wore the peasant
rags in which they had been sold.
Penny cried, "Lark! We knew you'd find us! We knew you would come!"
And Nora echoed, "We were waiting. But Gary, what does the alarm mean?
When they heard it, those who were attending us fled. All the women in
Khundru have taken shelter--"
"And every man has gone to his post," explained Gary. "They've spotted
the Gogean army outside the city. We must work fast before they can
turn their armaments on our unprotected friends. Come on."
"Yes, but where?"
"To the control tower. It's the key to the whole situation."
* * * * *
This time their flight through the avenues of the Palace Royal was
not so unimpeded as before. The entire city had sprung to a state
of alert. As they left the residential quarters and moved once more
into that portion of the citadel which was its walled fortress, they
passed on several occasions small bodies of troops hurrying toward
designated battle posts. As they passed gun stations they saw artillery
crews huddled behind flame guns and rotors which, through slits in the
palace wall, commanded wide areas of the city before and below. Twice
their passage was challenged. Once by a patrol sentry whom Lark easily
satisfied.
"_Kraedar_ Gorilu and one attendant on special duty. Taking these two
females to the dungeons for safekeeping."
"Very good, sir," said the sentry, and permitted them to pass.
But the second challenge was not so easily averted. This came from a
_kraedar_ of equal rank to him as whom Lark masqueraded. This noble
made the fatal error of attempting to question the fugitives without
first calling assistance.
"_Kraedar_ Gorilu?" he repeated. "I know no such lord. And your
trappings designate you as one of the _inner_ Palace Guard. Why, then,
are you fleeing in _this_ direction? And why are you drawing that gun,
_kraedar_?"
"Because," answered Lark simply, "you ask too damn many questions, and
we haven't got time to answer them. Sorry, pal!"
And they left the inquisitive _kraedar_ behind, inquisitive and
suspicious no longer....
But finally they went again to that section of the Palace Royal which
they knew to be its nerve center. From the deepening throb of many
motors, and by the slowly increasing static crackling of dynamos
endlessly turning, they knew when they had reached their objective.
But there was something missing. Something which puzzled and worried
Gary Lane. So much so that as they approached the central control tower
he drew his companions to a halt in the shadow of a deserted lookout
niche.
"Wait a minute," he warned. "Let's stop and look this situation over.
There's something wrong here."
"Wrong," repeated Lark. "What's wrong about it? Everything looks O.Q. to
me. We got _this_ far without trouble--well, much, that is. And judging
by appearances, that doorway--" He nodded--"opens to the control tower
proper. So far as _I_ can see there's not a damn soul around to stop
us."
"That's just it! This is the nerve center of the entire Magogean
defense system. Look ... look below, there!" Gary gestured to the
window slit by which they were huddled. Through it could be seen the
lower court of the Palace Royal and several streets of Khundru beyond.
All had been emptied of vehicular traffic and were aswarm with fighting
men prepared to repel any invasion attempt. "They've got the Palace
guarded to the hilt ... but the main control tower doesn't have a man
around it!"
Lark chuckled cheerfully. "Just like the Magogeans. Dr. Kang's been
saying all along they don't have good sense. So much the better for us.
Come on ... let's get going. We've got to open that barrier.
"Well, all right," agreed Gary. "But be careful. I don't like this."
* * * * *
So they crossed the last open space between their present post and
the partially isolated control tower, a domed minaret of a building
constructed within the palace walls but remote from other portions of
the edifice.
Serving to strengthen Gary's suspicions, the door of this tower was not
even locked, but yielded readily to their pressure.
Within this dome the thrumming drone of motors sounded more insistent
than ever. It throbbed in their ears, their brains, their veins, like
the slow and deadly dripping of a creeping poison. It was an audible
magnet which drew them to the innermost chamber.
And here again--stunningly!--was the door unlocked! Its latch clicked
at Gary's pressure. The heavy door swung slowly open, and a bright room
yawned before them; a tremendous, vaulted chamber in which were mounted
gigantic instruments of almost unguessable size and power.
The control panels governing these instruments were set on high walls,
but as they entered Gary saw that a single figure, garbed in smock and
apron of laboratory white, head encased in a heavy visionplated shield
similar to that used by welders, sufficed to keep all this intricate
paraphernalia in working order. This single technician was darting back
and forth before his control banks, here touching a vernier, there
readjusting a rheostat, elsewhere depressing a stud which performed
some unfathomable duty.
At sight of this single lab man, O'Day's exultation could no longer be
restrained. With a gleeful cry he charged into the room, handgun drawn
and menacing. His voice cried in swift command. "All right, you at the
controls there! Turn around, and put your hands up--_Up_, I said!"
And then--too many things happened at once! There came a sudden gasp
from Penny's lips.
"Lark! It's--"
And a frightened scream from Nora Powell. Metal clanged noisily as the
great door clanged behind the four invaders. A bolt thick as a man's
arm jarred into place. And even as the four whirled to comprehend this
phenomenon, an all too horribly familiar voice repeated O'Day's order.
"Yes, my foolish friends--hands up and drop your weapons to the floor!
What delayed you? I have been waiting for you quite some time."
And from behind the concealment of the now-closed door, flanked by a
detail of Magogean warriors, armed to the teeth and ready for instant
action, stepped Borisu!
* * * * *
"A trap!" cried Gary Lane. "A trap!"
Borisu smiled easily. "Yes, my dear young doctor. You did not believe
that we of Magog were stupid enough to purposely leave unprotected our
control tower? Particularly when we knew you had contrived entry to our
capital city?"
Nora Powell cried, "Then you _knew_ we were in Khundru?"
"Let me not assume undue credit," smirked Borisu in mock modesty. "Let
us say, rather, I _guessed_ it was you the moment I learned one of our
younger _kraedar_ had been attacked, and his uniform exchanged for the
garment of a serf.
"When upon further investigation it was learned that this self-same
'serf,' in company with four of his pretended 'family,' had created a
scene of violence at the slave market, it was not hard to guess that
such impetuous blunderers must be part of the late comradeship of the
_Liberty_."
His manner changed abruptly, his oily smile disappeared and tiny
needles of flame darted from his eyes. "But enough of this," he rasped.
"There are but four of you here. Where is the fifth? Who was he?
Muldoon? Or that young traitor patrolman, Captain Warren?"
Gary stared at him in frank astonishment. This did not make sense. Was
it not to this control tower that Dr. Kang had been sent? If Borisu and
his henchmen had not already met and apprehended the Martian savant
here, then where--?
A sudden thought struck him, one so staggering that it was only with an
effort that he kept his eyes from turning in a revelatory direction.
He struggled to keep his voice under control. He asked levelly, "And
suppose I refuse to tell you, Borisu?"
"It will not greatly matter," snarled the Magogean. "But I warn you, it
will be better if you _do_ tell. Speak, now! Who was the fifth member
of your party?"
"The fifth member," said Gary slowly, stalling for what he had reason
to believe was precious time, "was--"
Then came an interruption. The hooded technician at the control board
turned suddenly, spluttering swift, fearful words at the _kraedar_ and
his guards.
"My lords! Your attention quickly! Something has gone wrong with the
force barrier!"
"Wrong?" echoed Borisu, turning swiftly to the man. "But nothing _can_
go wrong. What do you mean?"
"It's weakening ... failing.... Come, see for yourself."
The technician pointed with trembling fingers at an alarm signal high
upon the control banks; a light now pulsating in fitful ruby flares.
Borisu spat a stream of angry curses, turned and waddled hastily across
the amphitheatre to the engineer's side.
"Where is the fault?" he demanded wildly. "Hurry, man! Bestir yourself!
Don't stand there like a stricken schoolgirl. Do something!"
And:
"Very well, Borisu!" cried the engineer, his voice changing suddenly.
"I _will_ do something!"
His hand leaped out and tore the pistol from the _kraedar's_ grasp, in
one split second completely changing the situation.
"Down on your face, and keep your arms outstretched above your head!
Tell your men to throw their weapons away."