After a while the noise died down; there was no more shouting and the r-rays ceased to hum. What had happened? What had been the outcome of Duare’s courageous attempt to escape? Had they recaptured her? Had they killed her? Had she really gotten away? Was I ever to know the answer to even one of these questions?
Ero Shan spoke to me, breaking the thread of my lugubrious reverie. “Perhaps we should never have let her go,” he said.
“I am glad she went,” I replied. “I would rather that she were dead than eternally condemned to this hideous existence.”
“And of course,” suggested Ero Shan, taking a brighter view of the situation, “there is always the chance that she may succeed; and that some day your friend Taman, jong of Korva, may march on Voo-ad and release us.”
“But suppose,” I countered, still prone to look upon the dark side because of my fear and sorrow concerning Duare; “suppose that Taman does come; will we be much better off? We shall still be paralyzed.”
“Oh, come!” exclaimed Ero Shan; “don’t be so gloomy. When Taman takes Voo-ad, he can force the jong to furnish him with the antidote.”
“You speak as though it were already an accomplished fact,” I said, smiling. “That is the way we should feel. I am sorry that I have been so depressed; I’ll buck up from now on. By the way, what was the purpose of that cock-and-bull story you told Vik-vik-vik—about the man who flew in and flew away with Duare?”
Ero Shan laughed. “If you can put fear into the hearts of your enemies, you already have an advantage over them—especially if it is fear of the supernatural; that is something they can’t combat. Killing you doesn’t help any; they feel that it will only increase their danger. Then, too, I wanted to disabuse his mind of any suspicion he may have had that you or I were in any way responsible. Had he believed that, the reasonable thing for him to have done would have been to have had us destroyed, lest we free ourselves and the others.”
I scarcely slept all that night, wondering about Duare. I tried to question the new guards when they came on duty; but they just told me to shut up, and they kept as far away from Ero Shan and me as they could after they had removed the dead bodies of their fellows.
Long day after long day dragged slowly by, and still we heard no faintest word concerning Duare. The guards would not talk to us, neither would those who came to see the exhibits; it was evident that they had received orders, undoubtedly from the jong.
Had Duare escaped? If she had, she was off somewhere alone with Vik-yor. That thought added nothing to my peace of mind. I killed Vik-yor in some dozens of different and most satisfying ways during those long hours. I also killed Ata-voo-med-ro and Vik-vik-vik, nor did I stop there; I indulged in a perfect orgy of murder—the vain, wishful imaginings of impotency. However, it was very pleasurable imagining; and there are few pleasures in which one may indulge while hanging against a wall, dead from the neck down.
XXXVII
Vik-yor and Duare had not reached the exit when Vik-vik-vik and the banquet guests burst into the museum. “Quick! Hide!” whispered Vik-yor, dragging Duare back behind the body of the gantor. “The drunken fools!” muttered Vik-yor. “They have upset all my plans; now we may not get away at all.”
“They have passed,” said Duare, presently; “now we may go on.”
Vik-yor hesitated. “They may come back,” he said.
“If they discover that I am gone, they’ll make a search,” said Duare; “then you will be caught.”
“And killed,” said Vik-yor, trembling. “But I won’t be killed! I won’t be here; they’ll just find you; they won’t know that I had anything to do with setting you free. You stay here; I’m going to join them and pretend that I was at the banquet, too.”
“You’re going to do nothing of the sort,” snapped Duare; “you’re going out into the plaza and help me fix the anotar; you’re going through with this thing.”
“I am not,” insisted Vik-yor. “Vik-vik-vik would have me killed if he knew I had set you free.”
“If you don’t come along with me,” warned Duare, “he will know.”
“How will he know?”
“I’ll tell him!”
“No, you won’t,” snarled Vik-yor, and drew a dagger.
Duare whipped out the r-ray pistol. “Put that dagger back, or I’ll kill you,” she threatened.
Vik-yor hesitated. It knew nothing about an r-ray pistol, but it was an arrant coward, and Duare’s tone of voice alone would have been enough to frighten it. It started to return the dagger to its sheath.
“No!” said Duare; “give it to me—and your sword, too; you’re not to be trusted.”
Reluctantly, Vik-yor handed over the weapons. “Suppose they attack us now?” it asked.
“You can hide behind me,” said Duare. “Come, now! We’re going to the plaza.” She had to poke the muzzle of the pistol in the middle of the thing’s back in order to force it toward the exit. A moment later they were in the plaza. It was deserted at this time of night, and they crossed to the anotar in safety.
The propeller lay beneath it, and a hasty examination showed that it was undamaged; then she examined the flange, shrunk to the end of the crankshaft, to which it had been bolted. The bolts were there and undamaged—the nuts must have vibrated off almost simultaneously; Kandar had evidently neglected to use either lock washers or cotter keys.
These Duare found among the spare parts in the cockpit of the anotar, together with the necessary nuts. Climbing forward on the wing, she told Vik-yor to hand up the propeller and then to come up himself and give her a hand. Together, they fitted the propeller over the bolts; and Duare started the nuts by hand; then she applied the wrench, a heavy tool that she had difficulty in handling in the awkward position in which she had to work.
She had two nuts securely set and cottered when the guests came rushing from the museum in search of her. “There she is!” cried one, discovering her almost immediately; and then they all came running toward the anotar. Vik-yor scrambled into the cockpit and hid. Duare switched the wrench to her left hand and drew her pistol.
“Keep away!” she called, “or I’ll let you have it.”
Perhaps they didn’t know what she was going to let them have; so they came on. The r-rays hummed from the muzzle of the weapon, and the leaders crumpled to the pavement. That stopped the others, at least for the time; and Duare continued to tighten the remaining nuts.
Vik-yor peeked from the cockpit; it saw the dead and heard the screams of the wounded. Things looked pretty safe to it; so it crept out and came to Duare’s side. Duare was working feverishly. She had thought everything out far in advance of either Carson or Ero Shan. Perhaps discovery by these Vooyorgans would make it more difficult than she had hoped, but she was still determined to go on with it—and flying away from Voo-ad without Carson and Ero Shan was no part of it.
The thing that she had planned on doing, after she and Vik-yor had repaired the anotar, was to force him to give up the vial of antidote, even if she had to kill him to get it, and then to go back into the museum and free Carson and Ero Shan. Discovery by the Vooyorgans had greatly complicated matters, but it had not compelled Duare to give up the plan.
More creatures were now rushing into the plaza, and the anotar was surrounded. Again Duare was forced to stop her work and turn a stream of r-rays upon those who menaced her most closely, and again the others fell back. This time Vik-yor did not hide. Feeling safe under the protection of Duare, it remained and watched her using the pistol on its people. The thing intrigued it greatly and gave it ideas, one of which it put into practice almost immediately after Duare returned the pistol to its holster and went to work on the last remaining nut. While the girl’s attention was centered on her work, Vik-yor stole up behind her and stealthily removed the pistol from its holster.