triangles; Muz-Azin likes to see a slow killing, and so doesthe mob of spectators."
"That's good. Now, here's my plan. We won't try to rescue them fromthe dungeons. Instead, we'll transpose back to the Zurb temple fromthe First Level, in considerable force--say a hundred or so men--andmarch on the palace, to force their release. You're in constant radiocommunication with all the other temples on this time-line, Isuppose?"
"Yes, certainly."
"All right. Pass this out to everybody, authority Paratime Police, inmy name, acting for Tortha Karf. I want all paratimers who canpossibly be spared to transpose to First Level immediately andrendezvous at the First Level terminal of the Zurb temple conveyer assoon as possible. Close down all mining operations, and turn overtemple routine to the native under-priests. You can tell them that theupper-priests are retiring to their respective Houses of Yat-Zar topray for the deliverance of the priests in the hands of King Kurchuk.And everybody is to bring back his priestly regalia to the FirstLevel; that will be needed." He turned to Brannad Klav. "I suppose youkeep spare regalia in stock on the First Level?"
"Yes, of course; we keep plenty of everything in stock. Robes, miters,false beards of different shades, everything."
"And these big Yat-Zar idols: they're mass-produced on the FirstLevel? You have one available now? Good. I'll want some alterationsmade on one. For one thing, I'll want it plated heavily, all over,with collapsed nickel. For another, I'll want it fitted with antigravunits and some sort of propulsion-units, and a loud-speaker, andremote control.
]
"And, Stranor, you get in touch with this swordmaker, Crannar Jurth,and alert him to co-operate with us. Tell him to start calling Zurbtemple on his radio about noon tomorrow, and keep it up till he getsan answer. Or, better, tell him to run his conveyer to his First Levelterminal, and bring with him an extra suit of clothes appropriate tothe role of journeyman-mechanic. I'll want to talk to him, and furnishhim with special equipment. Got all that? Well, carry on with it, andbring your own paratimers, priests and mining operators, back with youas soon as you've taken care of everything. Brannad, you come with me,now. We're returning to First Level immediately. We have a lot ofwork to do, so let's get started."
"Anything I can do to help, just call on me for it," Brannad Klavpromised earnestly. "And, Stranor, I want to apologize. I'll admit,now, that I ought to have followed your recommendations, when thissituation first developed."
* * * * *
By noon of the next day, Verkan Vall had at least a hundred mengathered in the big room at the First Level fissionables refinery atJarnabar, spatially co-existent with the Fourth Level temple ofYat-Zar at Zurb. He was having a little trouble distinguishing betweenthem, for every man wore the fringed blue robe and golden miter of anupper-priest, and had his face masked behind a blue false beard. Itwas, he admitted to himself, a most ludicrous-looking assemblage; oneof the most ludicrous things about it was the fact that it would haveinspired only pious awe in a Hulgun of the Fourth Level Proto-AryanSector. About half of them were priests from the Transtemporal MiningCorporation's temples; the other half were members of the ParatimePolice. All of them wore, in addition to their temple knives,holstered sigma-ray needlers. Most of them carried ultrasonicparalyzers, eighteen-inch batonlike things with bulbous ends. Most ofthe Paratime Police and a few of the priests also carried eitherheat-ray pistols or neutron-disruption blasters; Verkan Vall wore oneof the latter in a left-hand belt holster.
The Paratime Police were lined up separately for inspection, andStranor Sleth, Tammand Drav of the Zurb temple, and several other highpriests were checking the authenticity of their disguises. A littleapart from the others, a Paratime Policeman, in high priest's robesand beard, had a square box slung in front of him; he was fiddlingwith knobs and buttons on it, practicing. A big idol of Yat-Zar, onantigravity, was floating slowly about the room in obedience to itsremote controls, rising and lowering, turning about and pirouettinggracefully.
"Hey, Vall!" he called to his superior. "How's this?"
The idol rose about five feet, turned slowly in a half-circle, movedto the right a little, and then settled slowly toward the floor.
"Fine, fine, Horv," Verkan Vall told him, "but don't set it down onanything, or turn off the antigravity. There's enough collapsednickel-plating on that thing to sink it a yard in soft ground."
"I don't know what the idea of that was," Brannad Klav, standingbeside him, said. "Understand, I'm not criticizing. I haven't anyright to, under the circumstances. But it seems to me that armoringthat thing in collapsed nickel was an unnecessary precaution."
"Maybe it was," Verkan Vall agreed. "I sincerely hope so. But we can'ttake any chances. This operation has to be absolutely right. Ready,Tammand? All right; first detail into the conveyer."
He turned and strode toward a big dome of fine metallic mesh, thirtyfeet high and sixty in diameter, at the other end of the room. TammandDrav, and his ten paratimer priests, and Brannad Klav, and tenParatime Police, followed him in. One of the latter slid shut the doorand locked it; Verkan Vall went to the control desk, at the center ofthe dome, and picked up a two-foot globe of the same fine metallicmesh, opening it and making some adjustments inside, then attaching anelectric cord and closing it. He laid the globe on the floor near thedesk and picked up the hand battery at the other end of the attachedcord.
"Not taking any chances at all, are you?" Brannad Klav asked, watchingthis operation with interest.
"I never do, unnecessarily. There are too many necessary chances thathave to be taken, in this work." Verkan Vall pressed the button on thehand battery. The globe on the floor flashed and vanished. "Yesterday,five paratimers were arrested. Any or all of them could have haddoor-activators with them. Stranor Sleth says they were not tortured,but that is a purely inferential statement. They may have been, andthe use of the activator may have been extorted from one of them. So Iwant a look at the inside of that conveyer-chamber before we transposeinto it."
He laid the hand battery, with the loose-dangling wire that had beenleft behind, on the desk, then lit a cigarette. The others gatheredaround, smoking and watching, careful to avoid the place from whichthe globe had vanished. Thirty minutes passed, and then, in a queeriridescence, the globe reappeared. Verkan Vall counted ten seconds andpicked it up, taking it to the desk and opening it to remove a smallsquare box. This he slid into a space under the desk and flipped aswitch. Instantly, a view-screen lit up and a three-dimensionalpicture appeared--the interior of a big room a hundred feet square andsome seventy in height. There was a big desk and a radio; tables,couches, chairs and an arms-rack full of weapons, and at one end, aremarkably clean sixty-foot circle on the concrete floor, outlined infaintly luminous red.
"How about it?" Verkan Vall asked Tammand Drav. "Anything wrong?"
The Zurb high priest shook his head. "Just as we left it," he said."Nobody's been inside since we left."
* * * * *
One of the policemen took Verkan Vall's place at the control desk andthrew the master switch, after checking the instruments. Immediately,the paratemporal-transposition field went on with a humming sound thatmounted to a high scream, then settled to a steady drone. The meshdome flickered with a cold iridescence and vanished, and they werelooking into the interior of a great fissionables refinery plant,operated by paratimers on another First Level time-line. Thestructural details altered, from time-line to time-line, as theywatched. Buildings appeared and vanished. Once, for a few seconds,they were inside a cool, insulated bubble in the midst of molten lead.Tammand Drav jerked a thumb at it, before it vanished.
"That always bothers me," he said. "Bad place for the field to goweak. I'm fussy as an old hen about inspection of the conveyer, onaccount of that."
"Don't blame you," Verkan Vall agreed. "Probably the cooling system ofa breeder-pile."
They passed more swiftly, now, across the Second Level and the Third.Once they were in the midst of a huge land battl
e, with great tanklikevehicles spouting flame at one another. Another moment was spent in anair bombardment. On any time-line, this section of East Europe was anatural battleground. Once a great procession marched toward them,carrying red banners and huge pictures of a coarse-faced man with ablack mustache--Verkan Vall recognized the environment as Fourth LevelEuropo-American Sector. Finally, as the transposition-rate slowed,they saw a clutter of miserable thatched huts, in the rear of agranite wall of a Fourth Level Hulgun temple of Yat-Zar--a temple notyet infiltrated by Transtemporal Mining Corporation agents. Finally,they were at their destination. The dome around them became visible,and an overhead green light flashed slowly on and