Lowering his voice and peering cautiously around the stairs, the Mercurian said: “Krodrang is one who would usurp the power of Darrien. I’m on Mars for the purpose of killing Darrien and stealing his power. If you’ll play along with me, I’ll see to it that you get the girl—and Krodrang is not a poor man.”
Archman was totally amazed. So there were two assassins out for Darrien’s neck! Well, he thought, between us we ought to get him.
But as he stared at the Mercurian, he knew that killing Darrien would not end the job. Hendrin would have to go, too—or else he’d get back to Krodrang with the plans for the Clanton Mine, the orthysynthetic robots, and other of Darrien’s secrets, and Earth would face attack from Mercury.
It would take delicate handling. But for the moment Archman had an ally working toward the same end he was.
“Well?” Hendrin asked. “What do you say?”
“Kill Darrien and collect from Krodrang, eh? It sounds good to me. Only—how are you going to get at Darrien? Those orthysynthetic robots—”
“Meryola knows which of the Darriens is real and which a robot. And she’s scared stiff that the Earthgirl’s going to replace her in Darrien’s affections. I’ve got an idea,” Hendrin said. “We can play Darrien and Meryola off against each other and get everything we want from them. It’s tricky, but I think you’re a good man, Earthman—and I know I am.”
He had the Mercurian’s characteristic lack of modesty, Archman thought. The Earthman wondered how far he could trust the blueskin.
It looked good. As long as the Mercurian thought that Archman was simply a mercenary selling out to the highest bidder and not a dedicated Earthman with a stake of his own in killing Darrien, all would be well.
“Where do we begin?” Archman asked.
“We begin by shaking hands. From now on we’re in league to assassinate the tyrant Darrien, you and I.”
“Done!” Archman gripped the Mercurian’s rough paw tightly.
“All right,” Hendrin said. “Let’s get down to the dungeon and free Elissa. Then I’ll explain the plan I’ve got in mind.”
In the musty, dank darkness of the dungeon level, Archman said, “She’s in that cell—the third one from the left. But I don’t know how to open it. There’s a Martian in there with her.”
“How did that happen?”
“They came to get me—Dorvis Graal wanted to question me on some silly matter, which is why I was being held here. I decided to make a break for it. The door was closing as I ran out. The girl and the Martian were trapped inside.”
“And you couldn’t get them out?”
“No,” Archman said. “I couldn’t figure out how to open the door again. I tried, but it was no go, so I started up the stairs. Then you caught me.”
The Mercurian nodded. Suddenly he stumbled and grunted a sharp Mercurian curse.
“What happened?”
“Tripped on something.” He looked down and said, “By the fins I’d say it’s a Plutonian. His head’s been blown off with a zam-gun.”
“That’s the jailer,” Archman said. “I killed him when I escaped.”
“He would have known how to open this damned lock, too. Well, I guess it couldn’t be helped. Did you try blasting this door open with your gun?”
“Wouldn’t work. The door heated up, but that was all.”
Again the Mercurian grunted. He began to grope along the wall, feeling his way, looking for a switch. Archman joined him, even though in the murky darkness he could scarcely see. The Mercurian’s eyes were much sharper. A Mercurian needed extraordinary eyes: they had to filter out the fantastic glare of the sun in one hemisphere, and yet be able to see in the inky gloom of Mercury’s nightside.
“These doors work by concealed relays,” Archman said. “There ought to be a switch that trips the works and pulls back the door. That Plutonian knew where it was.”
“And so do I,” Hendrin exclaimed. He extended a clawed hand into one of the darkest corners of the cell block and said, “There are four controls here. I guess it’s one for each of these cells. I’m going to pull the third from the left, and you get ready in case that Martian makes trouble.”
“Right.”
Archman drew his zam-gun and stood guard. No sound came from within; he hoped Elissa was all right. She’d been left alone with that Martian for nearly twenty minutes now. Quite possibly the tusked creature had recovered consciousness by now. Archman hoped not.
“Here goes,” Hendrin said.
He yanked the switch. The relays clicked and the door slid open.
Archman half expected the Martian to come charging out as soon as the door opened. He expected to be fighting for his life. He expected almost anything but what he actually saw.
The Martian was lying where he had left him, sprawled in the middle of the cell. Elissa, clad only in her single filmy garment, was squatting by the Martian’s head.
As the door opened, the Martian stirred. Elissa coolly reached out, grabbed a handful of the alien’s wiry skull-hair, and cracked the Martian’s head soundly against the concrete floor of the cell. The Martian subsided.
Elissa looked up, saw Archman. “Oh—it’s you.”
“Yes. I came back to free you,” he said. “I see you’ve been having no trouble with your friend here.”
She laughed a little hysterically. “No. Every time he started to wake up, I banged his head against the floor. But I didn’t know how long I could keep on doing it.”
“You don’t need to any more,” said Hendrin, appearing suddenly. “Archman, you’d better tie the Martian up so he doesn’t give us any more trouble.”
At the sight of the hulking Mercurian, Elissa uttered a little gasp. “You—!”
“What am I going to tie him in?” Archman asked.
“You might tear my robe up into strips,” Elissa suggested, bitter sarcasm in her voice. “I’ve been wearing clothing for almost an hour anyway.”
“That’s an idea,” said the Mercurian coolly. “Yes—use her robe, Archman.”
The Earthman chuckled. “I don’t think she intended you to take her seriously, Hendrin. I’ll use my shirt instead.”
“As you please,” the Mercurian said.
Elissa glared defiantly at both of them. “Who are you going to sell me to now?” she asked. “You, Hendrin—you’ve parlayed me into quite a fortune by now, haven’t you?”
Archman realized that he had told the girl his true identity. Cold sweat covered him at the recollection. If she should give him away—
To prevent that he said quickly, “Say, Hendrin, the girl’s had a raw deal. I suggest we tell her what part she plays in this enterprise right now.”
“Very well. I’m sorry for the mistreatment I’ve given you,” Hendrin told her. “Unfortunately you became part of a plan. I’m on Mars for the purpose of assassinating Darrien. I’m in the pay of Krodrang of Mercury.”
“And I’m assisting him,” Archman said hastily, nudging Elissa to warn her not to ask any questions. “We’re both working to assassinate Darrien. You can help us, Elissa.”
“How?”
“Hendrin will explain,” Archman said.
“I’ll help you only at one condition—that you free me once whatever plan you have is carried out.”
Hendrin glanced at Archman, who nodded. “Very well,” Hendrin lied. “You receive your freedom once the job is done.” He smiled surreptitiously at Archman as if to tell him, The girl will be yours.
Archman rose. “There. He’s tied. All right, Hendrin: explain this plan of yours, and then let’s get out of here.”