VI

Every tier was a beehive of activity, as scientists of the Inner

Circle, scurried in every direction engaged in a multitude of tasks.

Atomo-planes flashed through the inter-connecting levels on their way

to the titanic battle below. Thousands of the Neophytes, aided by

robots, supplied arms and concentrates to the departing vessels, while

other thousands boarded them on their way to swell the ranks of the

defenders, and take the place of their countless dead.

At last they reached Bejamel's private dwelling. He never called it

a palace. In the tenebrous depths of his involved soul, there were

flashes of genius, and one of them was to have and to rule without ever

mentioning the fact. His dwelling was exquisite in proportions, the

simplicity of its white _Jadite_ facade, depending on the artistry of

its composition and carved decors, not on opulence of mosaic-jewelling

as was the case with the palace of His Benevolence. A repugnance of

rococco display was enough to deter him from bad taste.

They went immediately into his private chambers, and here Perlac had a

great surprise, for reclining on a dais covered with silvery Venusian

furs and the priceless plumage of the Martian Kra, was the one person

she would never have expected to see--Estrella, favorite of His

Benevolence!

Once over her shock, Perlac turned and favored her ancient father with

a sly smile.

"Incredible!" she murmured. "Can it be possible?" Bejamel bridled.

"Why not?" He rose to his full, cadaverous height. "Estrella and I

are going to Venus, child, I have yet many more years of life, and

loneliness is not good for an active mind like mine. That's why I

ransomed you from that barbarian Guerlan, so that you may go with us.

I am going to the palace now, I have one final errand to accomplish

well, before we leave!" He smiled slowly, satirically, as if the most

delicious thought in the universe had taken shape in his mind.

"Did you take care of His Exalted Benevolence's power-screen belt, my

dear?" he inquired of Estrella.

"Yes," the girl nodded, her eyes filling with hatred at the mention of

the dreaded name. "It will never function again!"

"Then," Bejamel said emphatically, in the tones he used when he had

delivered the final word, "meet me at the emergency outer lock. My

ship is there waiting, robot-manned, provisioned, containing fortunes

in jewels and priceless things. We will go to Venus, and to a new ...

a greater life!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining on the reclining form

of Estrella. "I shall expect to see you, Perlac, with Estrella aboard

my ship within one hour!" And to the silent robot-proctor. "Guard the

women," he said directing a tiny beam of force from the microscopic

mechanism concealed in his ring of office at the forehead of the robot,

which instantly sealed the order within the synthetic brain of the

metal-plastic man. "Guard them and bring them to my ship within one

hour."

The metalo-plastic robot seemed to stiffen, his great non-abradable

crystal eyes gleamed and a powerful arm went up in acknowledgment of

the peremptory order. Satisfied, Bejamel turned and left.

It was then that Perlac turned to the towering robot and said softly,

"Now!" And to Estrella, who watched uncomprehendingly, "Are you ready?

Throw something about you, and veil your face, Estrella, we're going to

the space ship!"

"But we've still got a lot of time!" the favorite protested. "It's true

that most of my things are on the spacer, but I want to arrange some

personal matters before we go; wait a while!"

A tremendous power was in Perlac's voice as she replied:

"We're leaving now!" Yet she said it very softly. "You're dripping with

jewels, are you taking those things with you?"

"But of course! Such a question, have you gone mad?"

"You know what they are? Each one represents a life ... they're made

from organic-plastic, human beings executed by greed!" Perlac reminded

her.

* * * * *

But Estrella shrugged her divine shoulders as she arose. "My not

wearing them wouldn't help those slain ones now. Besides, they're

nearer to me in death, than they could ever have been in life!" She

smiled with incredible vanity. She threw a robe of Kra plumes about

her, and allowed herself to be led to the atomocopter.

Within seconds they were speeding to the outer lock and Bejamel's ship.

It was there that the robot-proctor left them, and hurried to the

lower chamber where the pulsing generators sang their eternal threnody

of unlimited power. Unnoticed he gained the great metalo-plastic

doors that divided the vast chambers from the anti-gravity repulsor

machinery. Unhesitatingly, it directed a thin pencil of force at an

orifice slightly above the center of the great doors, just as Perlac

had explained over and over, and the massive portals parted slowly,

remaining open.

Robots of the lower grades worked among the maze of towering machinery,

oiling, testing, doing a multitude of tasks. But the robot-proctor,

without paying them any attention, seemed to suddenly open at the side

and an electro-flash gun, of large size, magnified by the Venusian

scientists and raised to many times its normal power, came into view

from the aperture. Without making a sound, without even a beam of

light, the fatal weapon was aimed at the very heart of the colossal

motors and generators, wheel and pistons seemed to warp, shrink and

disappear uncannily; the steady throbbing hum of the degravitator,

lost its smooth rhythm and thereafter large sections of machinery

disappeared under the relentless action of the supernal fire being

directed at them.

Instantly the robots came to life, for a moment they milled wildly,

as if this supreme emergency were something they were not able to

cope with, and then they saw the new robot in their midst. Their

synthetic brains activated only to the repair and maintenance of the

machines, and to their safeguard, focused on the attacker, and its

removal was instantly their immediate task. They attacked _en masse_,

but the robot-proctor eluded them among the mazes of metalo-plastic,

of bery-plastic rods and generators, and the tremendous motors which

were being eaten by an invisible leprosy. With a swift slash of the

electro-flash gun, the robot-proctor caused havoc among the robots that

pursued him, legs, arms, even heads wavered and disappeared as the

electronic balance was completely disrupted by the flash.

A tremor seemed to shake the gigantic Sphere. By now, the great

degravitator chamber was in shambles, and the remaining motors were

unable to cope with the awful pressure of the gravity of the giant

planet.

With one final murderous sweep of the electro-flash, that seemed

to shear like an invisible scimitar through machinery, robots and

everything in its path, retreated as it had come, racing upwards

towards the Sphere's emergency locks. There was no apparent pursuit.

Only the vivid scarlet lights of imperative emergency, flooding what

had been the degravitator chamber were witnesses to the destruction.

In the coordinating offices of the Maintenance Scientists, the

telesolidographs gave three-dimensional accounts of the wreckage.

But even there, confusion, bred by a growing panic, caused a delay,

losing them their chance of effecting repairs. Suddenly, panic brooked

no obstacles. The light of intelligence and logic was flung aside as

men and women becoming aware of the ghastly fate that awaited them,

poured out on the various levels in a frenzy to escape. The news of

the destruction of vital machinery in the anti-gravity repulsor beam

chamber was being relayed everywhere.

Already the colossal Sphere was swaying gently and settling lower,

dislocating the delicate balances that held it poised in space. The

stresses on the plastic structures and pylons was tremendous.

* * * * *

As the robot arrived at Bejamel's spacer, a dramatic scene unfolded

before his huge non-abradable eyes. Holding an electro-flash in her

slender hand, her eyes brimming with tears, Perlac seemed to have for

the moment at least, control of the superb ship. She was saying:

"We don't leave here until Guerlan returns!" Her lips were white, but

the sheer determination written in her lovely face, held even Bejamel

who was taken aback.

"Guerlan! Are you mad, Perlac? That barbarian's below on the planet's

surface!"

"On the contrary," the robot-proctor spoke in a voice leaden with

fatigue, "I'm here, Bejamel." Slowly he emerged from the enclosing

plastic shell of what had been a robot, then let the huge, hollow

plastic man fall clattering to the spacer's floor. Silently he searched

the ex-Minister of Justice, who seemed transfixed by a vast surprise.

From under Bejamel's arm-pit, Guerlan took a hidden electro-flash, and

a venom-tipped dagger concealed in a fold of his tunic. Having drawn

his fangs, he smiled. "We can blast off now ... but not for Venus!"

Majestically, Bejamel turned to Perlac with an inscrutable smile. He

gazed at the girl in a mixture of bitterness and admiration:

"You're indeed _my_ daughter!" he said at last. Then to Guerlan: "What

do you propose to do with me?"

"Keep you on Neptune," Guerlan replied bluntly. "Utilize your vast

knowledge of jurisprudence, and your personal and intimate knowledge

of the thousands of scientists who are certain to surrender sooner or

later. Human beings have inalienable rights, rights that we propose

to return to them. But unfortunately, it will not be easy to give

freedom to those who have never known what freedom is. We will need

all the science and power of mind available. So, Bejamel, we must use

you--under our supervision, of course. You see, even the venom of a

cobra is eminently useful, if handled right!"

They eyed each other, these two. Both powerful, dominating intellects,

both capable of profound emotions. It was the older man, who used to

the devious ways of the Sphere and His Benevolence's court, yielded

gracefully. Bejamel glanced at Estrella, and it occurred to him that

whatever years of life remained to him would be sweet if she were at

his side. At that instant, a vast tremor shook the gigantic city of the

Sphere, and Bejamel's eyes went wide.

Seated at the controls, Guerlan turned slightly to Bejamel. "Give your

Intermediates orders to open the lock and activate the catapult--we

have minutes, perhaps only seconds, before the Sphere gives under the

gravity pull. Make your choice, or I give the ship full power and crash

through the airlock, Bejamel!" Guerlan's voice was cold, impassive.

"I shall give the order," Bejamel assented in a brittle voice.

* * * * *

From a vantage point in space, the scene that met their eyes had the

memorable quality of those stupendous spectacles of nature that human

eyes rarely if ever are privileged to see.

The vast sphere was aflame with color, dazzling in the vivid

coruscations of blue and orange and mauve and yellow lights. Spinning

slowly, it was a thing of unearthly beauty, a floating, starry globe

that might have been a toy of the gods. It was being deserted by every

type of craft imaginable; hundreds of planes, 'copters, electros ...

every available type of ship that could evacuate the jostling, crying,

screaming thousands who had jammed the outer air-locks and emergency

exits.

Inexorably, the Sphere sank lower and lower, as the remaining

generators fought the awful gravity of Neptune that held the doomed

globe in its gigantic grip. Enough power still remained to the

incredible sphere to keep it from crashing headlong into the furious

waters of the vast ocean below. But at last, as if the ultimate ounce

of power were gone, the Globe seemed to lurch in a glory of prismatic

lights, then with terrific momentum it began the dizzy plunge through

space, whirling like a falling meteor.

Perlac, Bejamel, Estrella--even Guerlan himself, could not take their

eyes from the tragic glory that was the sphere. Suddenly they saw it

illuminate the ocean for miles as it neared the surface of the waters,

then with a vast splash that sent a tidal wave licking the shore's

hills hungrily, it sank into the cold, green waters.

"And there it will remain for all eternity!" Guerlan said

thoughtfully. "A tomb of evil, that men might live!"

Bejamel was silent. The gargoyle's face was softened by a profound

sadness. He sighed like a man who has lived too much, and at last seeks

rest. He turned his back to the scene below as if unable to bear it any

more. "An epoch has passed," he said softly in the magnificent voice.

But Guerlan was at the Tele-Magnum, broadcasting offer of an armistice

to the warring armadas below.

"Scientists of the Inner Circle and the First Level," he said with

infinite assurance. "Your City of the Sphere has plunged to its doom,

and, with it went His Infamous Benevolence and hundreds of thousands of

your henchmen. You no longer have a haven of refuge, no base in which

to refuel or obtain supplies. When your present ammunition is gone,

when repairs and food are necessary, and when the men who die must be

replaced, there is no spot where you can return. Yours is a certain

doom--unless you unconditionally surrender. We offer a pardon to all

who are willing to join our cause; lay down your arms and aid in the

reconstruction--a far more glorious future is before us!"

An immense weariness had etched lines about his mouth and eyes, and

his shoulders slumped as if a great reaction had set in. But his eyes

could still flame with joy, as he saw the deadly fleet of the Inner

Circle abandon the struggle, as he saw the embattled armies cease their

carnage. As he turned from the Tele-Magnum to go to the controls and

guide the ship to their base in Columbia, he suddenly felt soft arms

entwine around his neck and a soft face that pressed close to his. He

didn't even need to look, the fragrance of Venusian jasmines was in his

nostrils and a warm, flower-like mouth pressed close to his.

It was then that Bejamel turned to Estrella and was eyeing him with

critical eyes and said sardonically:

"Shall we make it unanimous?"