CHAPTER II
_The Great Clock of Tarth_
The Plains of Ofrid on the planet Tarth stretched flat and monotonousas far as the eye could reach, a gently waving ocean of soft,knee-high grass where herds of wild stads grazed and bright-hued birdsvied in brilliance with the flaming sun.
From the dark Abarian Forests to the Ice Fields of Nadia, the plainstretched unbroken except for the tall, gray tower in its exact centerand it was toward this tower that various groups of Tarthans were nowmoving.
Every nation on the planet was represented in greater or lessernumber. The slim, erect Nadians in their flat-bottomed air cars thatcould hang motionless in space or skim the surface of the planet at athousand jeks an hour. The grim-faced Abarians, tall and finelymuscled on their powerful stads, their jeweled uniforms flashing backthe glory of the heavens. The Utalians, those chameleon men of Tarth,their skins now the exact color of the grasses across which they rode,thus causing their stads to appear unmounted and unguided.
All the nations of Tarth were represented, drawn toward the tower by acentury-old legend, a legend which Retoc the Abarian clarified as herode at the head of his own proud group.
He waved a hand, indicating the vast plain and spoke to Hultax, hissecond in command, saying, "Little would one think that this flat,empty land was once the site of a vast and powerful nation. One of thegreatest upon all Tarth!" A smile of cruelty and satisfaction playedupon his handsome features as he surveyed the plain.
"Aye," Hultax replied. "The realm of the Ofridians. Truly they were agreat nation."
"But we Abarians were greater," Retoc snapped. "We not only defeatedthem but we leveled their land until not one stone stood uponanother."
"All save the tower," Hultax said. "No weapon known could so much asscratch its surface."
* * * * *
A new voice cut in. "Quite true. Portox's scientific skill was toogreat for you." Both Abarians turned quickly to scowl at the newcomer,Bontarc of Nadia, who had swung close in his one-man car and washovering by their side.
Retoc's hand moved toward the hilt of his long whip-like sword, driventhere by the look of contempt in Bontarc's eyes. But Retoc hesitated.A formidable squadron of Bontarc's Nadian fighting men hovered nearbyand the Abarian had no taste for a battle in which the odds were closeto even.
"We defeated the Ofridians fairly," he said.
"And slaughtered them fairly? Cut down the men and women and childrenalike until the entire nation was obliterated?"
The systematic annihilation had taken place a century before whenBontarc had been but a child and Retoc a young man. Karnod, Retoc'sfather, now dead, had planned the war that defeated the Ofridians, hiswinning card having been spies in the court of Evalla, Queen of Ofrid.Karnod had been fatally wounded during the last battle and haddelegated to his son the task of annihilating the Ofridians andlevelling their nation. This task, Retoc accepted with relish,reserving for himself the pleasure of slaying Queen Evalla. Details ofthe torture to which Retoc subjected the beautiful Evalla werewhispered over the planet and it was said the sadistic Retoc had takenphotographs of the Queen in her agony to enjoy in later years.
It had been the scientific ability of Portox of Ofrid that hadengendered the Abarian hatred and jealousy in the first place. Portoxused his science for the good of all on the planet Tarth, but whenKarnod, Lord of Abaria, struck, no other nation came to Ofrid's aid.Then it was too late, because Abaria's military might greatened as aresult of the Ofridian defeat and only an alliance of all othernations could have conquered them.
Ironically, Portox had never been captured.
Now as the tall gray tower came into view, Bontarc's mind was filledwith thoughts of Portox, the Ofridian wizard. It was said that Portoxhad been able to travel through space to other planets that were knownto exist, that he had left Tarth and found safety somewhere acrossspace, first building his tower which would never be destroyed; that agreat clock within it was measuring off one hundred years--the time onthe planet Tarth of an infant's development into manhood--and that atthe end of that span the clock would toll and there would come forth aman to avenge the slaughter of the Ofridians.
Bontarc turned suddenly upon the dour Retoc. "Tell me," he said, "isthere any truth to the legend that the clock in the tower will tollthe end of one hundred years?"
"None whatever," the sadistic Abarian snapped. "A rumor passed fromthe lips of one old woman to another."
Bontarc smiled. "Then why are you here? The hundred years are uptoday."
Retoc's hand moved toward his whip-sword. "Are you calling me a liar?"
* * * * *
Bontarc watched alertly as the blade came partly from its scabbard."If we fight we may miss the tolling of the clock," he said evenly.
With an oath, Retoc pushed the sword back into its scabbard and putsharp heels to his stad's flanks. The animal screamed indignantly androcketed ahead. Bontarc smiled and turned his car back toward his owngroup.
And now they were assembled and waiting, the curious of the planetTarth. Would the clock toll as it was rumored Portox had said? Wouldan avenger come forth to challenge Retoc and his Abarian hordes?
There was not much time left. Swiftly the clock ticked off theremaining moments and the end of one hundred years was at hand.Silence settled over the assembled Tarthans.
Then a great sound boomed over the plains; a single ringing peal thatrose majestically into the air, reverberated across the empty landthat once had been the site of a thriving, prosperous nation. Thefirst part of the legend had been fulfilled.
Then, suddenly, chaos reigned. With a great thundering that shook theground upon which they stood, the gray tower exploded in crimsonglory; a great mushrooming blossom of red fire erupted skyward hurlingthe assembled Tarthans to the ground where they lay in numbed stupor.
The thunderous report echoed across the plain ten thousand timeslouder than the tolling of the clock. But aside from the initialdulling shock, no Tarthan was injured because the crushing power roseupward.
There was an expression of mute wonder on Bontarc's face. And hethought: We have not seen the end of this. It is only the beginning.But the beginning of what? Only Portox could have known. And Portoxwas--where?
Bontarc started his car and moved across the plain sensing cosmicevents but not knowing....
Not knowing that the sound of the tolling clock had gone with morethan the speed of light across the void, had been flung arrow-straightto a brooding mansion in the heart of a thick forest upon anotherplanet; to the door of a cavern deep in the rock beneath the mansion.
That even now the lock of this door had responded to the electronicimpulse and the huge panel was swinging slowly open.