Sart stopped twitching. The mole rats began to close in. Sybelline tugged the bar out of Sart's body and ran for the safety of the bunker. The horde of mole rats was already ripping and tearing at the body.
Sybelline was gasping for breath when she entered the bunker, still carrying the blood-stained spear bar.
Wilf sat up. «What happened?»
Sybelline was shaking, her voice trembled. «The mole rats got Sart. We killed one and he slipped in the blood. They were on him before he could get up. I could do nothing. I had to flee to save my own life.» She found a towel and wiped blood from the bar. Her gown was badly spattered.
Wilf stared at her. He rested on an elbow and listened to the terrible sounds out there in the dark. He did not believe her. Sart was stupid, but not that stupid. And while he was brave enough in other matters he was a coward where mole rats were concerned. Sart would never have gotten close enough to the creatures to slip and be eaten by them.
Wilf smiled at his mother. «You lie to me. You killed him and fed him to the mole rats.»
Sybelline smiled back at him. «Yes, I did. So what matter? Now move over and perform for your mother, Wilf. All that blood has excited me.»
She got on the table with him, pulled up her bloody gown and opened her thighs. She cradled his head on her breasts.
«I command,» she whispered. «You are my son and you must obey.»
Wilf did not have to be urged. He did not really want to but he was young in Gnomen years and he was ready instantly. Sybelline, as usual, spoke no words and did not moan or even move very much. She simply engulfed him. She was quite capable of taking her pleasure and thinking at the same time. She did both now.
When it was over she patted his head and said, «Sleep now for a time. I will watch for Blade's message. It cannot be long and we must be ready. I will waken you the moment it comes.»
Wilf, sleepy and dazed; realized that she had used her body and his to make a fool of him. He sought to struggle up, off the table. He looked at her. Something was wrong. Something in her smile was-
Sybelline had the cylinder in her hands and was pointing the hose nozzle at him. A fine spray of powder, under great pressure, hit him in the face. Wilf began to laugh.
She gave him another squirt, and another, and left him in laughter, too weak to move. She picked up the spear bar and began to gouge the power studs out of the necks of the four sleeper technicians. It was bloody work but no matter, she was already covered with blood.
CHAPTER 15
Richard Blade made his way through the ravished city. He kept to the shadows as much as possible, noticing that more and more of the searchlights were being beamed at the city from the Moon. The Selenes were up to something, no doubt of that. Nor was there any doubt that they knew precisely what was going on down here.
The streets and squares were littered with Morphi sleepers, the females all raped and most of the men either destudded or beheaded. But the wandering, drunken squads of Gnomen were careless killers. They had missed some of the men, who slept unharmed. They were also fighting among themselves. Near one particularly beautiful Morphi female were two dead Gnomen. Each had a spear bar through him. Blade smiled grimly. Cans of intoxicant lay nearby. They had killed each other over the women. He was about to turn away when he noticed an iron chain and a medallion about the neck of one of the dead Gnomen. He had been a subchief. Blade stripped the body of the chain and medal and hung it about his own neck. The authority it carried might come in handy when his disguise was put to the test.
That was not long in coming. He was nearing the Hall of Entertainment, slipping from door to door, when a Gnoman emerged from a building ahead of him. The man was laden with loot and was dragging a female Morphi along by the hair. Blade hailed him. Might as well know now if his disguise worked. The Gnoman did not look drunk and it would be a fair test.
«You, there,» he called in a voice of authority, «why are you lagging behind your group? Where are the others?»
The Gnoman, startled, dropped his loot and whirled to face Blade. He clutched his bar in one hand and with the other held fast to the hair of the woman sleeper. He peered at Blade with red-brown eyes. His tone was bellicose.
«Who are you? What is it to you what I do?»
«I am Yorick,» Blade improvised, «and I am a subchief. I act on the orders of Jantor. There are too many strays and skulkers and I am sent to round them up. How are you called, man?»
The Gnoman stared at the iron chain and medallion and became less sullen. «I am Tortat, from the far outer sewers. My group has gone to the Government Building on orders.»
«Why are you not with them? And why do you carry that female sleeper with you?»
The man let go the hair and the body slumped to the street. He grinned at Blade. «I took a fancy to her. She is best of all I have found and so I carry her with me. When the notion takes me again I will have her handy.»
Blade pushed it a bit, wanting to test matters still further. «Leave her and be off to your group, Tortat. You can take the rest of your loot. Cause no more trouble and I will forget this. Go now.»
The Gnoman glowered and narrowed his eyes at Blade. Blade moved his bar into thrust position.
The advantage fell to Blade. The Gnoman grumbled and fell back. «You are big for a Gnoman. How came you by all that blood? It masks your face.»
Blade pushed his advantage. «Go, I said. Never mind the blood. I carry out my orders and kill Morphi instead of looking for loot and females. Now, if you are not gone by a three count your name goes to Jantor for punishment.»
The man held up a hand. «I go-I go-but I beg leave to wait for my comrade. He will not be long.»
«Comrade?» Blade had not bargained on two. He turned wary and moved his bar into a defensive position. The Gnoman turned to shout into the foyer of the building he had just left.
«Porfax. Hurry up, you fool. There is an officer here who says we must join our group.»
Blade moved so he could peer into the foyer. Another Gnoman was topping a female sleeper, copulating furiously. He answered without looking up from his work. «A moment, Tortat, a moment. I am nearly finished.»
Blade broke off the encounter. He walked away, growling back to the Gnoman, Tortat. «Let him finish. Then both get to your group. You may not have heard, but Jantor is punishing all lawbreakers by feeding them to the mole rats. It is your choice.»
Blade rounded a corner and broke into a run. Hs disguise had worked well enough thus far. Then the first head pain struck him.
The agony blinded him. A streak of black lightning in his brain. He reeled into another foyer and fell to his knees, clutching his temples. He damned the computer-not now, not yet, not while he still had hopes of completing his mission. He still had a bare chance to bring peace into this devastated and terror-ridden DX
The pain eased. It was only the preliminary groping of the computer as it moved near the return phase. Blade concentrated with all his power, trying to get through to Lord Leighton by the crystal.
Almost immediately the crystal reversed itself, the surge alternated to feedback from HD, and Blade, though grateful that the pain was gone, began to curse as he deciphered Lord L's thoughts in his own mind. The damned old fool. At a time like this!