“I sure won’t,” said the Mercurian exultantly. “Why, Darrien will go wild when he sees this one! What do I need your money for, against the power he can offer for her?”
“What if he simply takes her away from you?”
“Darrien wouldn’t do that. Darrien’s smart; he knows how to keep the loyalty of his men.” The Mercurian rose, clutching the girl’s wrist. “Come, lovely. We go to seek Darrien now, before anything might happen to her. And as for you, Earthman, it was good to make your acquaintance—and perhaps we shall meet again some day.”
“Perhaps,” Archman said tightly. He sat back and watched as the Mercurian, gloating, led his prize away. A flash of thighs, the bright warmness of a breast, and then girl and captor were gone.
This is a filthy business, Archman thought bitterly.
But the Mercurian was on his way to Darrien. It would be useful, reflected the Earthman, to follow along and find out just what happened. At this stage of the enterprise, any trail could be taken.
Hendrin the Mercurian moved at a steady rate through the streets of Canalopolis, dragging the sobbing girl roughly along.
“You don’t have to pull me,” she said icily, struggling with her free hand to pull together the tatters of her clothing. “I don’t want my arm yanked out. I’ll come willingly.”
“Then walk faster,” Hendrin grunted. He peered ahead, toward the rosy bulk of Darrien’s palace, as a structure of intrigue began to form in his mind. Using the girl as a pawn, he could gain access to Darrien.
That alone wouldn’t help. In all probability he’d see not the real Darrien, but an orthysynthetic duplicate of the shrewd leader. One false move and Hendrin would find himself brainburned and tossed out as carrion for the sandwolves.
This had to be done carefully, very carefully. But Hendrin felt no fear. Overlord Krodrang had hand-picked him from the ranks of his secret operatives, and Hendrin was confident he could fulfill his monarch’s commands.
“Why do you have to do this to me?” the girl asked suddenly. “Why couldn’t I have been left on Planetoid Eleven with my parents, in peace, instead of being dragged here, to be paraded nude through the streets of this awful city and—” She gasped for breath.
“Easy, girl, easy. That’s a great many words for your soft throat to spew out so quickly.”
“I don’t want your lying gentleness!” she snapped. “Why am I being sold to Darrien? And what will he do to me?”
“As for the former, I’m afraid I’ll have to beg off. I’m selling you for money—”
“But those Venusians said you bid more for me than Darrien would have paid!”
“They were drunk. They didn’t recognize a prize specimen when they see one.”
“Prize specimen!” She spat the words back at him. “To you aliens I’m just a prize specimen, is that it?”
“I’m afraid so,” Hendrin said lightly. “As for what Darrien will do to you—come now, milady, that ought to be obvious!”
“It is,” she said glumly. “But why does life have to be this way? That Earthman, back in the bar—doesn’t he have any loyalty to someone of his own world?”
“Apparently not. But enough of this talk; what’s your name?”
“Elissa Hall.”
“A pretty name, though a trifle too smooth for my taste. How old are you, Elissa?”
“Nineteen.”
“Umm. Darrien will be interested, I’m sure.”
“You’re the most cold-blooded creature I’ve ever met,” she said.
Hendrin chuckled dryly. “I doubt it. I’m a kindly old saint compared with Darrien. I’m just doing my job, lady; don’t make it hard for me.”
She didn’t answer. Hendrin rotated one eye until he had a good view of her. She had blonde hair cut in bangs, blue eyes, a pert nose, warm-looking lips. Her figure was excellent. Some other time, perhaps, Hendrin might have had some sport with her first and scarcely found it dull. But not now. Like all his people, the Mercurian was cold and businesslike when it came to a job. And—much as he would have liked the idea—it didn’t fit into the strategy.
“Halt and state name,” snapped a guard suddenly, presenting a zam-gun. He was a Martian, grinning ferociously.
“Hendrin’s my name. I’m a member of Darrien’s raiders, and I’m bringing this girl to sell to him.”
The Martian studied Elissa brazenly, then said, “Very well. You can pass. Take her to Dorvis Graal’s office, and he’ll talk to you.”
Hendrin nodded and moved ahead past the guard and into the compound of buildings surrounding Darrien’s lofty palace.
Dorvis Graal, Darrien’s Viceroy and the Chief of Canalopolis’ Security Police, was a Venusian. He looked up from a cluttered desk as Hendrin and the girl entered. There was a bleak, crafty glint in his faceted eyes; his beak of a nose seemed to jab forward at the Mercurian, and the deadly stinging-tail went flick-flick ominously.
“Who are you, Mercurian?”
“The name is Hendrin. I’ve recently joined Darrien’s forces.”
“Odd. I don’t remember seeing a dossier on you.”
Hendrin shrugged. “This red tape is beyond me. All I know is I signed on to fight for Darrien, and I have something I think might interest him.”
“You mean the girl?” Dorvis Graal said. He squinted at her. “She’s an Earth colonist, isn’t she?”
“From Planetoid Eleven. I think our lord Darrien might be interested in her.”
Dorvis Graal chuckled harshly. “Possibly he will—but if he is, there’ll be the devil to pay when Meryola, Darrien’s mistress, finds out!”
“That’s Darrien’s problem,” the blue Mercurian said. “But I’m in need of cash. How can I get to see Darrien?”
“Darrien wouldn’t bother with you. But let me think about this for a moment. What would you consider a fair price for the wench?”
“Two hundred credas and a captaincy in Darrien’s forces.”
The Venusian smiled derisively. “Mars has two moons, as well. Why not ask for one of those?”
“I’ve named my price,” said Hendrin.
“Let me look at the girl,” Dorvis Graal rose, flicking his bushy tail from side to side, and stepped forward. “These rags obscure the view,” he said, ripping away what remained of Elissa’s clothing. Her body, thus revealed, was pure white for a moment—until suffused by a bright pink blush. She started to cover herself with her hands, but Dorvis Graal calmly slapped her wrists away from her body. “I can’t see if you do that,” he said.
After a lengthy appraisal he looked up. “A fair wench,” he remarked. “Perhaps Darrien will expend a hundred credas or so. Certainly no more.”
“And the captaincy?”
“I can always ask,” said the Venusian mockingly.
Hendrin frowned. “What do you mean, you can ask? Don’t I get to talk to Darrien?”
“I’ll handle the transaction,” said Dorvis Graal. “Darrien doesn’t care to be bothered by every Mercurian who wanders by with a bare-bottomed beauty he’s picked up in a raid. You wait here, and I’ll show him the girl.”
“Sorry,” Hendrin said quickly. He threw his cloak over the girl’s shoulders. “Either I see Darrien myself or it’s no deal. I’ll keep the girl myself rather than let myself be cheated out of her.”
Dorvis Graal’s whip-like tail went rigid with anger for an instant—but then, as he saw Hendrin apparently meant what he said, he relaxed. “Just a minute, there.”