At once they were engulfed in a concourse of Mercurians. Jaro stared
about him in amazement. The narrow dim-lit way was jammed with
revelers. The women wore the historic costume, a short skirt low on
bare hips and a diminutive jacket with squared sleeves. Their black
hair was done up on top of their heads with blossoms of the red egalet
that only blooms during the Rains. Wooden clogs were fastened to their
feet. The men wore gaudy, loose trousers and cummerbunds of green.
Their chests were bare, and many bands of hammered silver ornamented
their arms.
The three revolutionists wriggled their way into a grog shop. They were
served wine and thin strips of cheese with some strange, hexagonal
crackers.
"Why can't I get assignments like this often?" bewailed Landovitch.
"Don't look now," said Joan, "but a man's following us."
Jaro lit a cigarette, allowed his eyes to scrutinize the room. A short,
fat Earthman lounged at the door. The waiter offered him a glass of
Latonka which he refused. He had a hat perched on the back of his
head. He wore a white coat but no shirt. A second Earthman pushed
through the door. The fat man raised an eyebrow, nodded imperceptibly
toward Jaro. The second man took a seat at a table to their left.
Jaro's eyes flitted about the room. On the other side two men sipped
Latonka. They were Venusians. Tall, lean, yellow skinned men, they
reminded him of Manchus. Each, he noticed with a start, had a pale blue
star about the size of a dime tattooed on his forehead. Fazoqls! The
caste of professional killers! His experience during the wars among
the Federated Venusian States had given him a great respect for the
Fazoql's cast. They were men without fear. He nudged Landovitch.
"We're in a trap," he smiled, sipped his wine. He looked as if he were
passing the time of day. He said, "Joan get between us. Saunter toward
the door."
Two more Earthmen squeezed inside. The fat man nodded his head. The two
Venusian Fazoqls pushed back from the table.
The fat man intercepted them. "Where you going?" he asked with a smile.
Jaro hit him in the mouth. Landovitch kicked someone in the stomach;
shot one of the Fazoqls, clouted a third ruffian over the head. Jaro
was grateful that Landovitch was with him. The big T.I.S. agent in
action combined the destructive ability of an octopus and a tornado.
They dived for the door. Then Jaro saw Landovitch topple over.
The second Fazoql had walloped him over the head with the leg of a
chair. The lights went out. Joan screamed. Jaro felt her hand torn from
his arm. He thought, "Mercurians!"
Something hit him over the head.
* * * * *
After a while Jaro came to. He stood up, bumped his head against the
ceiling. It was dark. He felt about with his hands. He seemed to be in
a cubical cell about four feet square and not much higher. He could
neither stand up nor lie down. It was so deep beneath the city, he
couldn't hear the flutes. His head ached. The walls, floor, and ceiling
of the cell, he discovered by the sense of touch, were stone. He sat
down, his back to the wall. He wondered dully what had happened to
Landovitch and Joan. Did Albert Peet or Karfial Hodes have the girl?
He thought ruefully that Peet probably had her. The presence of the
Earthmen and the two Venusian Fazoqls convinced him that Peet was
behind the attack. Then he too must be a prisoner of Peet. He was
faintly surprised that he hadn't been killed.
He closed his eyes to shut out the absolute darkness which pressed
in on him from all sides. With a touch of panic he considered the
possibility that he might be blind. He shuddered, refusing to think
about it, speculating on the fine collection of rogues which Albert
Peet had gathered in support of his collapsing economic empire.
He was not surprised that the Latonka Czar had hired the Fazoqls. The
caste of Venusian killers were active all over the Universe. Like the
Greek mercenaries of ancient times, it was a respected profession on
Venus. As long as Peet fulfilled his side of the contract, the Fazoqls
would be loyal. But the Earthmen!
Earthmen gone bad were more feared than mad dogs and given a much wider
berth. They were just as apt to destroy Albert Peet as his enemies.
When he thought of Joan Webb being left to their tender care, he
writhed mentally.
There was something fresh, likeable, wholesome about the girl. He made
no melodramatic vows of revenge to himself should he discover that the
girl had been harmed. Instead a coldness crept over his mind. He would,
he knew, hunt them to the outermost ports of the Universe's far-flung
frontiers.
His head was no better. He felt that a drink of Latonka would clear his
mind. After a while he went back to sleep.
When he awoke he was very thirsty. He set about exploring his cell with
his fingers, encountered a jug and a pan of food. They must have been
placed there while he slept. He ate and drank. His head didn't ache so
badly, his mind was clearer. He felt his chin. He thought he would like
a bath and a shave.
He shifted position, leaned back against the wall, felt it give
slightly beneath his weight. He scrambled around, feverishly ran his
hand over the smooth blocks of stone. One of the blocks, he discovered,
had been pushed back in the wall about an inch. He shoved outward
against it. The stone receded further, leaving a hole scarcely large
enough for his broad shoulders.
Jaro squeezed into the hole, wriggled forward, pushing the stone ahead
of him. It ran in grooves. This was not the regular door he felt sure,
but a secret entrance of whose existence he doubted that even his
guards suspected. After about four feet, he felt himself clear of the
wall. The stone came to a stop. He could push it no further. He had
come through into a second chamber or passage, he didn't know which as
still no glimmer of light relieved the intense darkness.
* * * * *
He stood, cracked his head against the ceiling. He recalled the small
stature of the Mercurians, grinned ruefully.
He bethought himself of his captors' surprise when they discovered his
escape, got back down on hands and knees, pushed the stone back into
the exit. It came to a stop with a small click. The hole was plugged.
He tried to move the stone. It was latched fast. He realized that the
lock must not have been caught or else no amount of pressure would have
moved that stone. Backing out into the passage behind the cells, he
stood up again. He was free.
Stooping painfully he crept along the wall. He had taken five hundred
and twenty-three steps when he stumbled up a stair. Recovering his
balance, he climbed up sixteen steps which wound back on themselves,
came out in another passage. This second corridor he judged ran
directly above the one he had just left. There was still no light. With
increasing confidence he began its exploration.
The first thing his groping fingers encountered was a narrow alcove
inset in the wall. Like a blind man he passed his hand across the back
wall of the alcove, felt a knob-like protuberance, pulled. A small
stone plug came out, revealing a peep hole. A ray of light streamed
through the aperture. He wasn't blind!
He put his eye to the peep hole, saw a large, delicately furnished
room. In the center was a bed on a dais. Several luxurious chairs,
fashioned like chaise lounges and upholstered in white fur, squatted
invitingly about the floor. A deep-piled aquamarine carpet covered
the cold stone blocks under foot. The walls were a solid mass of bas
relief. The ancient sculptor had exhibited a robust sense of realism in
his choice of subjects.
He felt about the walls, sure that there must be some means of ingress.
His fingers discovered a second handle. He pulled. A section of the
wall swung back.
For a moment he hesitated like a gray wolf coming into a clearing, then
crossed the chamber to the door. Cautiously, he inched it open. A long
corridor met his eyes. It was lighted like the chamber with the pale
green globes of the Mercurians. Like the chamber too, it was deserted.
He stepped back in the room, drew the door shut, bolted it. With
growing curiosity he set about examining his surroundings. If this
belonged to Albert Peet's establishment, he surely did himself proud.
He discovered a closet full of rich feminine apparel, then a second
door leading through a mirror paneled dressing room into a bath with a
sunken tub.
Jaro sighed. He stripped off his clothes, filled the tub, let himself
into the warm water. Having bathed he searched a small built-in
cabinet, found a hair remover used by the Mercurian women on their
legs. It doubled for a razor quite successfully. He ran his hand over
his chin, laughed, returned to the main chamber. Unlocking the door to
the hall in order not to create suspicion, he retreated into the secret
passage, shut the door, plugged the peep hole.
A dozen steps further along the corridor, he found a second alcove
identical with the last. There was a corresponding peep hole. The
room he looked into resembled the other except that its appointments
differed. It too, was deserted. He thought everyone must be above
celebrating the Festival. He wondered where he was. The last two
chambers had held no clue.
A third alcove revealed a room similar to the others except that it was
occupied. A pale Mercurian girl was asleep on the bed. Her black hair
lay on her white shoulders like stains of ink. A broad band of green
metal encircled one naked ankle.
Jaro drew in his breath sharply. A temple priestess, one of the
ex-brides of Nemi. He was beneath the temple of the rain god. Albert
Peet's men had not captured him after all. The thought induced a new
chain of reasoning. He remembered the lights flashing out back in
the grog shop. His thought at the time: "Mercurians." It dawned on
him that Karfial Hodes' men must have rescued them from Peet's hired
Mercenaries. But why? He put the plug back into place.
The following two chambers were empty. At first, he thought the next
one was too. He was about to insert the plug when a girl entered from
the dressing room. His lips formed an inaudible whistle. The girl was
Joan Webb.
* * * * *
Jaro, observing Joan Webb through the peep hole, saw that her tawny
brown eyes were strained, frightened, her shorts and blouse rumpled as
if slept in. He wondered suddenly how much time had elapsed since the
fight in the grog shop.
Joan turned and went back into the dressing room. Jaro, with a broad
grin, found the handle, swung back the secret panel. He squeezed
through the narrow aperture, drew shut the panel behind him.
Joan came back into the room.