Before Egypt Part 11

The guards came forth from the cell dragging a screaming victim, a tall naked speciman who bested even the Ptomenites in physical perfection. Here, Mike realized, was truly a man.

The screams had been from rage, not from fear. As the door snapped behind him, the victim stopped screaming, evidently realizing this was the end, that escape was now impossible. He raised his head, a look of contempt lighting his handsome features. He walked proudly amidst the guards. He seemed completely indifferent to whatever fate awaited him.

Mike stared as the man was led to the center of the pit. Chains were clamped to his wrists and ankles. Then the guards lifted him, holding him horizontal. One of the priests extended his arms upward, over the p.r.o.ne man, and seemed to be mouthing a prayer or incantation. He appeared to Mike to be asking some deity to accept this poor offering.

This ceremony over, the guards walked with the helpless man toward a great vat of smoking purple liquid. But at this moment, Mike's attention was diverted. A door had opened far down the circle and two figures were approaching. As the guards lifted the unfortunate prisoner and threw him in the vat a great roar of fury went up from the circle of cells. And Mike recognized the approaching figures.

McKee and Talbott.

McKee was amply bandaged about the head and shoulders. Talbott appeared to have come off better, only his right wrist and elbow tightly wrapped.

They moved past the cells until they were confronting Mike and Nicko.

There they stopped. McKee, the fat one, grinned and glanced at his companion. "Dangerous looking specimens, aren't they?"

Talbott wore a sneer. "Quite. The priests will have a lot of fun with the scaly creature. I understand they're already discussing him--eager to get their hands on him."

Mike's rage tore at his own throat. He strove for control of his voice. "What have you swine done with Doree?"

A look of disappointment came on Talbott's face. "I wanted her for--for other things, but I wasn't able to handle it. So she comes in here like the rest."

"You mean they're going to throw her into that--?" the question was from Nicko as every scale on his body quivered.

Mike saw that the prisoner below had now been removed from the vat. He had been laid on a table and one of the priests was advancing upon the body with a long s.h.i.+ning needle in his hand. He pointed the needle very carefully at a place on the man's skull.

"She's next, I understand," Talbott was saying easily. "She is in the other block. Only male prisoners on this side. They'll bring her in soon. It will be quite a show. Perhaps we'll stay to watch."

Mike could control himself no longer. He flung himself against the bars like a wild beast. Even though in no danger, McKee drew back in alarm. He said, "The sooner that one's in the Hall of the Dead, the better."

Mike had been conscious of a hand touching his arm but he had paid no attention. Now, as the two Terrans turned to leave, he turned also, with tears of helpless anger welling in his eyes. It was M'Landa. The H'Lorkan spoke.

"What's he saying?" Mike asked.

As M'Landa spoke, a quick change came over Nicko. He whirled and stared back in to the cell. "He says there's another man in this cell with us. He's been talking to him. He's a Baserite."

Now Mike saw the man sitting in a shadow against the wall. Two things had kept him from noticing before--the dim light and the incidents of terrible interest down in the pit. As they approached, the man got to his feet and spoke. Mike could not understand what he said, but he now knew the man thrown brutally into the vat of purple liquid had also been a Baserite. This man in the cell could have been his twin.

"Are you able to understand him?" Mike asked Nicko.

"Sure. He said he was watching us--trying to figure out whether we were spies?"

"Spies! Spying on whom?"

The questions and answers were going back and forth through Nicko. He asked the Baserite. The man said, "Upon me."

"Who are you?"

"I am Mertaan, a fighting Prince of Baser. I was taken from a Baserite s.h.i.+p."

"Too bad, fellow. I'm sorry."

"It was no accident. I arranged to be taken."

"That hardly makes any sense."

The man spoke through grim lips, his clear eyes blazing. "That's why I wondered about you--wondered if our plot was suspected. We can't take a chance."

"Your plot?"

"Yes. But I think you are genuine prisoners."

Nicko translated and added, "You can be d.a.m.ned sure about that."

"What plot are you talking about?" Mike asked.

"Baser attacks the Ptomenites in force tonight."

"I'm glad to hear that but I don't see how you can be much help in here."

"This is one facet of the plan. We corrupted a scant few of the Ptomenite guards. They are our men."

An odd thought struck Nicko. "We're glad to hear that too, but could you tell me something? With gold and jewels lying around on the ground what kind of bait lures a man on this planet."

"Our women are the most beautiful and exciting females in existence,"

the Baserite said grimly.

Nicko whistled and Mike snapped. "Quit taking up time with silly questions. We want to know more of this plot."

Mertaan took a key from the front of his jacket. "There is one or more Baserites in every cell of this block. Each has a key that will unlock his cell. The Baserite war fleet comes over soon. When we hear the whine of the s.h.i.+ps, we strike. Are you with us?"

"We could hardly be with the Ptomenites."

Mertaan eyed Nicko suspiciously. "Is the strange one also with us?"

"Just wait and find out!" Nicko said.

The Baserite turned even grimmer of face. "I am taking no chances.

This plan must work. My brother just died down there in their reeking vat--"

Mike was astounded. "You mean you had a key? You could send the whole cell block to his rescue? But you let him die?"

Ice glazed over the pain in the Baserite's eyes. "There is much more at stake here than one life. A nation. The time was not right. I had hoped my brother would be spared a few minutes longer but it was not to be."

Mike marveled anew. Truly--these Baserites were men of iron will.

"When?" Mike asked grimly.