Luck, providence-perhaps justice-were on our side that day. I cannot explain how else we managed to hold the city against the invaders.
But we did. Then, just four shatis before sunset, I left the wall and headed for the aircraft hangars that had been pointed out to me the day before.
The hangars were domed buildings near the central square of the city. There were three of them, side by side. The domes were not of stone, but of some metallic substance, another alloy with which I was unfamiliar.
The entrances were small, barely wide enough or high enough for a man of my size to squeeze through. I thought this strange, and wondered how the aircraft could get out.
Shizala was in the first hangar I tried, supervising some male servants who were swinging one of the heavy aircraft round on davits. It was cradled in the davits, which swung slightly as they moved it.
The strange oval ship was even more beautiful at close view. It was evidently incredibly ancient.
There was the aura of millennia of existence about it. I looked at it in fascination.
Shizala, tight-lipped, did not welcome me as I entered.
I gave her a slight bow, feeling uncomfortable.
A low thrum of power came from the ship. It looked more like a piece of sculpture in bronze-like substance than a vehicle. The complicated, raised designs spoke of a creative intelligence superior to any in my experience.
A simple rope-ladder led to the entrance. I walked up to this in silence and tested it.
I darted a look of enquiry at Shizala.
At first she refused to meet my glance, but at length she did and said with a gesture at the ship:
"Go aboard. Your pilot will join you in a moment."
"There is not much time," I reminded her. "This should be accomplished before nightfall."
"I am aware of that," she replied coldly.
I began to climb the swaying ladder, reached the top and entered the ship.
It was richly furnished, with padded couches of some deep green and gold material. At the far end were controls, as beautifully made and as finely decorated as the rest of the ship, with levers of brass-perhaps even gold-instruments encased in crystal. There was a small screen in a cabinetsome kind of television equipment which gave a wider view of what lay outside the ship than could be obtained through one of the rather small portholes.
After inspecting the interior of the ship I sat on one of the couches to work out my plan of assassination-for that, in essence, was what it was-and wait impatiently for my pilot to join me.
In a while I heard him climbing the rope-ladder.
My back was to the entrance so I did not see him as he entered.
"Hurry," I said. "We have very little time!"
"I am aware of that," came Shizala's voice as she walked towards the controls and seated herself at them!
"Shizala! This is dangerous! It is no job for a woman!"
"No? Then who else do you suggest? Only a few pilots exist for the ships-and I am the only one available."
I was not sure that she spoke the truth, but there was no time to waste.
"Then be very careful," I said. "Your people need you more than I do-do not forget your responsibility to them."
"That I could never do," she said. For some reason I thought she spoke bitterly, though I could not determine why at that time.
Now she operated the controls and the ship began to rise, light as a feather, towards the roof. As the roof slid open, I realized how the ships left the hangars. The dark blue sky of late evening was above us. The ship's motors began to murmur with greater intensity.
Soon we were winging over the city towards the camp of the Argzoon. We noticed that they were beginning to retreat again, as was their night-time custom.
Our plan was simple. The ship would swoop down over the tent of the Argzoon commander. I would drop swiftly down the rope ladder. The oval tent had holes at the top, covered with thin gauze-presumably for better ventilation. The hole would just take a man. I had to drop through it and thus surprise the commander, engage him quickly and despatch him with expediency.
A simple plan-but one that would require swift reactions, excellent timing, and absolute accuracy.
As we began to move over the enemy camp, their great catapults sent huge stones hurtling into the air towards us. We had expected this. But we had also expected what happened next-the falling stones, of course, landed back in the Argzoon camp and the warriors naturally objected to being crushed by the artillery of their own forces. Soon the barrage ceased.
Within a short time our objective was reached.
At a signal from Shizala, I went to the entrance and began to pay out more of the rope-ladder from the drum near the door.
I darted a glance at her but she did not turn to look at me. I gazed down. I could see the Banner of the N'aal Beast stirring in the faint breeze that was beginning to blow.
The faces of hundreds of Argzoon were watching me, of course, for they had expected some sort of attack from us. I hoped they didn't realize what form it would take.
Looking down at them, I felt like a fly dropping into a nest of giant spiders, I gathered my courage, made sure of my sword, drawing it in a single gesture, shouted once to Shizala and swung down the rope-ladder until I was directly over the gauze-covered opening of the leader's tent.
Argzoon were shouting and milling about.
Several spears flashed past me. More then ten feet over the opening I decided it was now or never.
I let myself go and dropped towards the tent.
Chapter Six
SALVATIONAND DISASTER!
THERE was a momentary roaring in my ears and then I was plummeting through the opening, dragging the gauze cover with me.
I landed on my feet but staggered as the air was forced from my lungs. Then I whirled to confront the occupants of the tent.
There were two of them-a large, battered Argzoon warrior, resplendent in rudely-beaten bangles and rough-hewn gems-and a woman! She was black-haired, dark-complexioned and had a haughty bearing. She was wrapped in a thick, black cloak of some velvet-like material. She stared at me in surprise. She was as far as I could tell an ordinary human woman! What was she doing here?
Outside came yells from the Argzoon warriors.
Ignoring the woman, I gestured to the battered Argzoon to draw his sword. He did so with a sharp grin and came at me suddenly.
He was an excellent swordsman and, still recovering from my drop into his tent, I was forced to fight a defensive duel for a few moments.
I had little time to do what I had come to accomplish. I met his thrusts with the fastest parries I have ever made, returned them with thrusts and lunges of my own. Our swords crossed perhaps a score of times before I saw a break in his guard and moved in swiftly, catching him in the heart and running him through.
At that moment several more Argzoon rushed into the tent. I turned to meet them but before we could engage the woman cried imperiously:
"Enough! Do not kill him yet. I wish to question him."
I remained on guard, suspecting a ruse of some sort, but the warriors seemed to be in the habit of obeying the woman's orders. They stood their ground.
Cautiously I turned to look at her. She was exoti- cally beautiful in her wild, dark way, and her eyes smouldered mockingly.
"You are not of the Karnala," she said.
"How do you know that?"
"Your skin is the wrong texture, your hair is short-there is something about the set of your shoulders. I have never seen a man like you.
Where are you from?"
"You would not believe me if I told you."
"Tell me!" She spoke fiercely.
I shrugged. "I come from Negalu," I said, using the Martian name for Earth.