was. It could have been nothing at all."
"All right. Have it your way," Nicko said serenely.
"Come on. Let's get going. We'll eat something on the raft."
* * * * *
But they never reached the raft. Mike's words had hardly been spokenwhen the forest erupted with a mass of savagery. Several hundred tall,screaming black men clad sketchily in brilliantly colored feathers andpaint.
Both rifles barked. Nicko's shot was high, but Mike brought theforemost of the black warriors skidding forward on his face.
Maybe that will stop them, Mike thought desperately. Maybe they'venever seen firearms before. He held up his second shot for thebriefest moment hoping the savages would be awed into retreat.
But this was not the case. They charged forward in renewed fury andMike again went to work. He dropped three more of the charging maniacswhile Nicko, probably the poorest shot who ever lifted a rifle,accounted for one unfortunate warrior with a twenty-shot spray ofatomic pellets.
The black men, who had had only a scant fifty yards to cover, were nowupon the three. Two of them seized Doree, an act which turned Mikeinto a terrible fighting machine.
Not able to fire the gun effectively at such close range, he reversedit and created bloody havoc, using the butt as a club. Two skullscracked sharply under its impact and as he fought, Mike saw Nicko godown. He couldn't reach him.
Several warriors raised the iron-toothed clubs they carried andcrashed them down upon Nicko's unprotected body.
The result would have been comic under less grim circumstances. Theclubs of the warriors caused Nicko's almost indestructible hide toring like a great bell. The handle of one warrior's lethal bludgeonsnapped and the attacker stared at it in amazement. The rest beat downagain upon the prone Nicko, their clubs bouncing off and resounding ina sort of anvil chorus.
The attention of the warriors bent upon annihilating Mike was divertedby the intriguing spectacle of this strange four-armed creaturerefusing to be clubbed to death. So Mike was able to get in sometelling blows that felled three more of the terrible warriors.
He knew however, that the end was already written in the bloody sandsaround him. He could only fight to the last moment, bringing down asmany of the enemy as possible.
His heart was sick at what would surely be Doree's fate. He saw herjust beyond the perimeter of battle still held by her two captors whowere viewing the fight with rapt interest. If he could only reach her.One swing of his gun butt and she would serve no vile purpose in thehands of these raiders.
The beastman's intent was all too clear.]
Mike mowed a bloody path in her direction. He covered more than halfthe distance before he knew he would never make it.
However, the end of this affair was not written in the sands, but inthe skies overhead. Mike realized this when the attackers stoppedfighting, all eyes turned heavenward in sudden terror. Mike's eyesfollowed theirs and he saw the ship.
* * * * *
It was a craft such as he could never have imagined in dream orreverie. A great rectangular platform, its polished sides inlaid withgold and fist-sized gems. There was a high railing around its edgeover which myriad faces peered down. Above it, elevated upon shiningcables, were two glowing balls not more than two feet in diameter, andeven in his preoccupation with more serious matters, Mike realized thewhole craft was suspended from these two balls, that they were itsmeans of buoyancy.
Then he was in the midst of a disordered flight as the warriorscharged screaming back to the forest. The ship was settling swiftlytoward the surface of the river and now a crystalline ray of some sortshot out from the forward deck, cutting down the terrorized warriorsin their flight.
* * * * *
Every able-bodied one had fled the scene of battle. Some gained theforest where the crystalline ray crisped the overgrowth into blackashes as it nipped at their singed heels. Those not fortunate enoughto escape were but small nubs of blackened ashes on the open shore.
The ray had avoided touching the heart of the battleground and Mikefound himself standing alone among the bodies of the blacks he haddispatched. Nicko was getting wearily to his feet. Doree stood frozennearby, abandoned by her captors, the great ship holding her gaze as asnake would hold that of a bird.
The ship hung motionless a few inches above the rushing water, itsport side flanking the shore. And as a section of the railing arceddown from its position to become a landing ladder, Mike realized thefutility of delayed flight.
This was a fighting ship; a patrol craft ready and able to spreaddevastation in any direction. There were perhaps a hundred men aboardand as a squad filed down the ladder, Mike was struck by theperfection of their six-foot bodies and by the pride and arrogance oftheir manner.
Their attitude was one of casual contempt mixed with mild interest.Doree had moved into the shelter of his arm and the grumbling Nickohad also come close but with interest centered more upon his achingscales than this new possible enemy.
While the squad stood at attention, their leader surveyed the bloodysection of shore. He checked each of the prone men and found only onestill alive, a seven-foot, ebon-skinned warrior who got to his feetwhen the leader kicked him and stood erect but swaying drunkenly fromthe blow Mike had laid across his skull during the battle.
Shoving the warrior roughly toward the silent trio, the leader took asmall object from the gold-inlaid shoulder sack that seemed to be apart of his uniform. The object consisted of a short rod with acrystal ball on one end. The man grasped the ball in his palm, pointedthe rod at the fallen men and began spraying them with the samecrystalline ray that had emanated from the ship. The resulting firewas instantaneous and intense. The prone bodies crackled for a momentand were reduced to charred fragments. The leader went about this workwith the distasteful look of a man cleaning out a garbage pail. Whenthe task was finished, he turned his attention to the four prisoners.
* * * * *
Nicko was the prime object of his interest. He cut the little Martianout of the group, shoving him roughly aside, then walked slowly aroundhim several times as though unable to convince himself that such animprobable creature could really exist.
A sharp command from the deck of the ship terminated his inspectionand he spoke brusquely to the group in a tongue Mike did notunderstand.
"What did he say?" Mike asked of Nicko.
For once, the latter was not interested. "How do I know?" he growled."Gad! My aching back!"
The leader motioned to the squad, whereupon the prisoners were pushedtoward the ladder.
The boarding was accomplished swiftly. The prisoners were herdedforward and onto a gold-inlaid bench just above the prow. The ladderwas lifted and the craft moved straight upward like an elevator.
After ascending three or four hundred yards, it leveled off and sweptgently forward, down-river. None of those aboard laid hands upon theprisoners. Nicko was still the center of attention and also of theconversation passed among the soldiers. They were handsome specimens,erect and beautifully built, clad in identical uniforms the cost ofwhich would have been staggering on Terra or anywhere else in theSystem.
"This ship," Mike said. "Is there anything familiar about it?"
He had spoken to Doree and the latter looked at him questioningly andthen glanced about the ship. "I've certainly never seen anything likeit before."
"Of course not, but the styling, the decorations, they could only beclassed as--"
"Egyptian!"
"At least a forerunner of what we consider Egyptian. And this river.Look out ahead of us. See how it broadens. See the wide level fieldson either side."
"The Nile," Doree whispered.
"Not the Nile, but obviously a sister. The Egyptians who fled thisplanet certainly hunted until they found exactly what theywanted--found it on Terra in a system far from their own."
Mike turned his attention to a conversation t
hat was going on betweenNicko and the black prisoner. The language was a primitive guttural ofsome sort but Nicko was obviously using it skilfully. He grinned atMike and said, "We were wrong about those people. They are finecharacters. This is M'landa, a leader of the tribe known as theH'Lorkas--or at least that's as close as I can give it to you inTerran. He is an extremely fine fellow."
"Is that so?" Mike asked grimly. "Then why did they grab Doree?"
"They meant her no harm. They didn't want her injured."
"I can imagine why. And if they're such fine fellows why did theyattack us?"
The question seemed to embarrass Nicko. "I guess my aim wasn't so badafter all. They were keeping a sharp eye on us--wishing us no harmwhatever. But when I fired, I killed one so they naturally got sore."
* * * * *
"What does he know about this outfit?"
"Scoundrels. We would have been better off with the H'Lorkas. This isa patrol ship of the Ptomenites. They are the tyrants of this planet,their power contested only by the people of Baserite to the north. Butthe Baserites always come out on the bloody end of the stick."
"Has he any idea what will happen to us?"
"He expects to be sacrificed to some slob of a god they worship. Thenhis body will be preserved and put in a trophy room they call theGallery of the Dead."
Mike turned a quick, meaningful look at Doree, but he had no time tocomment because at that moment the door of a small cabin opened and agirl came forth. The cabin was aft of the ship and the girl cameswiftly forward, pride and arrogance written in every line of herbeautiful body.
But it was not these qualities that caused Mike to gasp and Doree toblush deeply. It was the regal figure's almost complete nudity. Shewore only the briefest of attire across her breast and hips.
"My dark friend says that's Katal'halee, Princess of the Ptomenites,"Nicko whispered. "She rides along with the boys once in a while forthe exhilarating pleasure of it."
"I imagine the boys get a little pleasure out of having her along,too," Mike said.
Then, with the queenly nude not a dozen feet away, Doree graspedMike's arm. He glanced across and saw that her eyes were sweeping pastKatal'halee to the small cabin. Its door had again opened. Two menemerged and moved forward. They seemed entirely at home and wore smugsmiles.
"Lorn McKee!" Doree gasped. "Dean Talbott!"
The Terran origination of these two was obvious. McKee was bald,paunchy, middle-aged, his face loose from easy living. Talbott tendedtoward the more athletic figure. He was dark, his eyes clear andsharp, his mouth cruel.
"Surprise," Nicko said with a noticeable lack of warmth in his voice."Bet you never expected to see us on your front porch."
* * * * *
Talbott smiled coldly. "Yes, and no. After we left you in space wethought we were rid of you. But we saw you tagging after us when wewere over the planet and it was too late to do anything about it.Congratulations. How did you manage it?"
"What have you done with my father?" Doree asked.
Talbott pondered the loathing in her eyes. It did not seem to botherhim. "Your father is well taken care of. He will be--" McKee raised adelicate hand. "But the details would only horrify you."
Mike was on his feet and had the Terran by the throat. Talbott gaggedand flailed helplessly. He was no weakling, but still not a match forMike's strength and rage.
The haughty-eyed native girl had been standing silent, regarding thetableaux. Now she snapped a command and two soldiers stepped forwardand seized Mike. A third hit Mike a vicious blow across the skull withthe flat of an ugly jeweled sword he carried. Mike staggered and fellback on the bench, blood running from his scalp.
Talbott rubbed his throat and adjusted his clothing. Viciousness shonein his eyes. "We had no great animosity toward you before, but now--"
"That's why you left us stranded in space?" Mike asked.
"It was just that we did not want to bloody our hands killing you butyou had to be got out of the way."
* * * * *
"Well, we're in the way now."
"Not at all. We have had time to put ourselves in solid with thesefierce but rather stupid people. We've also had time to arrange forthis hostile reception accorded you. We told them--"
"I can't see that it matters what you told them. We can see theresult."
"I'm more interested in how you got to them," Nicko said. "You don'tknow their lingo."
"There are ways if one has the time." McKee had come forward and wasregarding Nicko with interest. He was not alone. Katal'halee and everysoldier within range was also regarding him with interest. "Just whatmanner of creature is this, anyhow?" Talbott asked.
"Why you slab-sided slob--!" Nicko yelled.
Talbott flushed and took a backward step. The three soldiers movedforward, scowling.
"Take it easy," Mike said. "We know how we stand. It's just as well wedon't antagonize these people any further until we can get some kindof foothold."
"You'll get a foothold," McKee sneered. "In the priests' embalmingrooms." With that, he turned and walked away, obviously satisfied withthe situation. Talbott turned to follow him. He bowed to Katal'haleeas though awaiting her pleasure. The proud native Princess appeared tohave had enough of this spectacle and moved haughtily aft. As hefollowed her, Talbott glanced swiftly back at the prisoners as if tosay: _See how solidly we're in? You haven't got a chance._ This wasall too evident.
"What do you suppose they're up to?" Mike asked.
Doree looked up questioningly. "What do you mean?"
"They aren't just here to enjoy the hospitality of these people.They've got something more in mind."
"They're after the loot, what else?" Nicko said.
"If you're right and I think you are, they must have a plan. And ifthe plan is what I think it is, they've got their ship ready for aquick blast-off."
Doree's face was tight with inner turmoil. "We've got to find father!We've got to help him!"
Mike took her hand. "We'll do our best, but you must keep a grip onyourself. Your going to pieces won't help."
Doree made an effort. "I'm sorry. I'll--"
Her words were broken off by sudden activity on the ship. Mike glancedout and noted the landscape had changed to one of broad cultivation.The rough jungle country had completely vanished. Obviously the shiphad been moving at great speed, its effect on the passengers lessenedby the huge glass shield in front of the ship's prow. Looking ahead,he could see the spires of a city in the distance.
But this was not the object of the patrol's concern. Their eyes wereriveted to another ship--a strange shining craft that was moving infrom the left at great speed.
Mike heard shouts of both consternation and anger in the odd tongue ofthese people as they appeared to be girding for battle.
The approaching ship was of radically different design than the one onwhich they were trapped. It was completely of metal and had no goldenor jeweled decorations. It was long and slim and completely enclosedand had the appearance of a true fighting ship. None of its passengerswere visible.
Nicko had been talking to the feathered warrior. The latter had satsilent during the brush with McKee and Talbott and Mike had almostforgotten his presence.
* * * * *
Nicko turned in excitement. "He says that's a Baserite raider! He saysit's very seldom they come in so close but that one's planning toraise general hell with this scow. This isn't one of the Ptomenite'sfighter fleet and we'll have a pretty rough time."
The golden craft was following a two-pronged plan. The Ptomenites werespraying the sky with their deadly crystal ray and at the same timekiting for home as fast as the ship would go. Out beyond, the slimship did a remarkable roll to avoid the ray and screamed in for thekill.
The wind was howling around the Ptomenite ship now, and her timbersgroaned under the pressure. Then the Baserite craft attempted astrike. It ap
peared to be trying for only a close arc but at the lastmoment it nosed down in a breathtaking maneuver and streaked straightfor the exposed deck.
* * * * *
Frantically, the Ptomenites brought their ray gun around to bear onthe death-laden juggernaut. They were partially successful, spittingforth a deadly barrage just as the prow of the attacker crashed intothe deck.
Had the blow been uncontested, the Baserite ship would have roared onthrough and gone its way in triumph. But the crystalline force-fieldcrashed out with a viciousness of its own. It had no seeming effectupon the hull of the Baserite raider, but it hurled the craft backfrom its position and far out into the sky.
Great damage had already been done, however. A gaping hole left thebejeweled deck almost split in two. But by lucky chance, the overheadglobes had not been damaged and the speed of the Ptomenite ship didnot diminish.
It was streaking toward the city, now seen clearly from the deck andas the Baserite ship righted itself, Mike saw similar ships--sleekmetal fighters, rising from a port near the city.
The commander of the Baserite ship seemed to be making a decision ashis craft hung in space. To attack or flee? Could he reach anddemolish the crippled barge before the Ptomenite fighters reached thescene?
Both Mike and Nicko hung upon this indecision. Nicko said, "I hopethat stupid codger doesn't commit suicide. If he does, we go downtoo."
"Maybe it's just as well," Mike said grimly.
"I've always subscribed to