The surge of power, when the ship passed into normal space, awoke Kirin. The drone of the drive was lower and thicker now, and he knew they were on planetary power. Awaking the snoring doctor, he sprinted to the forward visors and snapped them on. Zangrimar was a dull glowing crescent, rising into their vision even as he watched. His jaw tightened grimly.
“Well, we’re here,” he growled. “Wherever ‘here’ may be!”
Without a hand at the controls, fully under the power of the strange force trap that had seized them in mid-flight, the ship dropped through the thin atmosphere of the desert world. Kirin could see a weird metal city built on a high plateau. Sunfire flashed from angles, planes and mirror-bright surfaces.
He wondered if yet a third party was interested in the Medusa…
The ship landed gently in a hollow cradle. Power died. Eyeing the atmospheric analysis dials beside the lock, he discovered the air outside was thin, cold, but breathable.
So he went outside to wait for the reception committee. There was nothing else he could do… for the moment…
He did not have long to wait. But it was Temujin who saw them first. Wheezing at the exertion, the red-faced little thaumaturge clambered out of the lock to stand beside him on the gleaming metallic surface of the space field. He stared around, blinking owlishly at the strange metal buildings. They were built to fantastic designs, weird pagodas, terraced pyramids and soaring ziggurats of glittering steel. Colossal steel masks glowered down at them from tower-tops, the sides of domes, the architraves of long arcades. Eyes of red fire blazed from the cruel metal masks.
The clank of metal striking on metal came to their ears. Across the space field came a blurred group of towering figures. Temujin spotted them and yelped.
“Robots!” he shrilled.
An unearthly chill crawled up Kirin’s spine. He looked at the metal colossi that came stalking up to them. Their heads were like the enormous casques of helmeted warriors. Long jointed arms ended in cruel steel claws. Nine feet from toe to crown the steel giants towered. They looked like mailed warriors out of nightmares.
Across the field in a straight file they came directly for the two men. With a sinking heart, Kirin realized they had no hope of defending themselves. They were prisoners, on an unknown world…
4. THE WITCH QUEEN
The metal giants were unearthly, terrifying. Kirin had heard of their like before. The old Carina Imperials had been served by metal slaves. Mechanical men had performed much of the common labor of the Empire. And it was said that certain of the steel automata were invested with extraordinary intelligence, some were as clever and articulate as men. But, being metal, it was a cold unyielding intelligence, devoid of mercy, warmth, humanity, or humor.
From the looks of them, the steel giants were over a thousand years old. It was astonishing to realize that the metal men still survived, still lived and labored and thought, centuries after the Empire that had created them had fallen into dust. But so it was. Surely, modern science could not produce such metal phenomena. They must be survivors of an earlier age…
“What shall we do, lad?” old Temujin quavered, striving manfully to still his trembling limbs. “Fight them?”
Kirin was tempted, but it was hopeless. There were too many. His power gun and the old doctor’s mysterious ivory rod could perhaps account for a few, but a few were not enough. Besides, even if they could fight free, the ship was still held under the control of whatever intelligence ruled this city of shimmering steel, be it man or metal. It would be the wisest course to go along with their captors, to learn why they had been forced down on this forbidding world, to discover the identity and purpose of their unknown enemy, before striking for freedom. He shook his head.
“No, Doc. Let’s go quietly.”
His voice was low and steady. Temujin bristled, half-raised the gleaming ivory tube that was his only weapon, then subsided into grumbling under his breath. Kirin suppressed a chuckle. The fat little old man was short of breath, but long on courage. Although obviously he was terrified of the approaching metal warriors, his instinct was to do battle. Bristling his bandit mustachios and glaring like an infuriated war-horse, the little magician snorted himself into silence. Kirin knew what he felt like… he didn’t like to give in without a fight either. But the thief had learned many lessons in the past—some of them painful. He had learned not to rely so much on sheer force, brute strength, or battling skill. These were all very well, but subtlety and cunning and a keen, vigilant eye often proved the strongest in the long run.
Casting back to a scrap of antique, pre-space literature he had once perused, Kirin was reminded of the battle of Troy. It was not the heroic strength of Achilles that breached the mighty walls of the fabulous city, but the subtle cunning of sly Odysseus.
He permitted himself to be captured.
In a distant part of the metal city, in a high-ceilinged chamber hung with velvet curtains of mystic green and lit by a small ruby lamp, a woman of exotic beauty observed Kirin and Temujin as they permitted themselves to be captured.
Her almond-shaped eyes, veiled in dark lashes, narrowed thoughtfully as she let her gaze run slowly over the lean hard body of the stalwart Earthling. Kirin and Temujin were mirrored within a curved globe of polished crystal. It was like a miniature scene cast by a video projector in three dimensions. Although no sounds issued from the glittering crystal, it was otherwise true to life down to the minutest of details.
In the soft daylight glow from the crystal, which stood on a pillar of grey stone, her face was like that of some goddess peering down on the small and trivial doings of men. Masklike were her features; the incredible perfection of her beauty making her face look more like a superb work of art than a human visage, for no emotions flowed across the sculpture of her face; calm and cold she stared down, and only the dark fires of her slanting eyes denoted life and intelligence.
She was tall and slender and deliciously rounded, her body a poem of warm silken flesh, which the daring cut of her gown revealed to best advantage. The dark glittering cloth of her robe clung silkenly to every seductive curve. Her flesh, copiously revealed in the low-cut and sleeveless raiment, was lustrous and tinted jade green. Her hair was black as space itself and loosely coiled atop her head, threaded through with minute diamonds that flashed like cold stars amidst her night-black locks. Her lips were full and generous, moist, a dark soft emerald. A slight smile lay upon them as she let her gaze linger on the tall Earthling.
To her companion she said, “The little fat man is of Trevelon from his grey robe; I have seen his like before. But the tall man with dark skin and hawk-like, bitter face, what is he? I have never seen hair like that before, nor a man with that stance of lonely pride…”
“Kirin is from Tellus,” the man said softly. “The third planet of the star Sol in Central Orion. Some say it is the home-world from which man spread into space ten thousand years ago; others say Centaurus; others, Tau Ceti. It makes little difference, but it is interesting to speculate…”
She flashed him a venomous glance of cold mockery from her jewel-bright eyes, “That is what you do best, Pangoy, in fact, all you can do is speculate! You Nexians bore me. You are too cold and clever.” Her companion bowed beneath the lash of scorn in her voice. The woman glanced into the glowing crystal again and her voice became languorous and caressing, “Now, if I had such a man as that by my side… what might the two of us not accomplish, with time?”