Spaceways - The Planet Murderer Part 20

"Of course, master." She paused. "What change is it that you wish?"

"A simple one. It's to have a special circuit built in."

Her eyes widened and her voice faltered. "A ... special circuit?"

"A kill-circuit!-triggered to the color purple!" That was DeyMeox, breath back, defiant again despite the blow. "That's ingenious," she mocked Gelor. "You're brighter than I thought, double-dyed villain."

"But-" Shemsi's hand moved in a baffled gesture. "Why? If it's the Eilan Jesti you want dead, why not just kill him? Why rework the droid?"

Just as Gelor started to slap her, DeyMeox's voice intervened, still mocking: "It's very subtle, Shemsi. Our . . . master can't be content just to kill the Eilan. He must prove his cleverness, too. More clever than a mere purple man. He needs to feel superior to his victim. A sick twist of mind, you might say. One in keeping with everything he's done here." Sarcasm dripped.

Gelor struck her in the breast this time. It was a typical male choice, and of course hurt less than the belly-blow. She pretended otherwise. She mocked him further, remind- 200.

ing him that he'd better keep her alive. Dead, she couldn't help. ...

When the right time does come, he thought in rage, you'll be a long time dying, you so-intelligent rotten mocking b.i.t.c.h!

He had installed an electronic control to the droid-frame's lock. He took it out of his pocket now, and freed her. For a moment, shakily, she stood chafing her wrist. Then, stumble-footed, she moved to the workbench that held her supplies and equipment. She began.

There were delays, each an irritation adding to a ma.s.sive irritation. Though she worked fast, there were more points to be checked than Gelor knew existed. He filled the hours by working out the new programming for the Gelor simulacrum. He had some ideas along these lines. If they worked, the Eilan would be a lot more fun than problem.

Jasbir's sky was deep gold-shot slate with artificial twilight when she had finished. Gelor stood beside the simulacrum before the mirror. With a strange feeling of unreality, he saw himself twice. Perfectly. It was as if he were just discovering that he had a twin brother. A brother programmed to act; not to kill but to seize and hold. A fit match for his anima.

With the re-secured Shemsi as hostage, he told DeyMeox what he wanted her to do, now. She closed her eyes as if the concept were something visible she couldn't bear to look at.

"Ah G.o.d," she said low-voiced, "but you are an evil, evil monster!"

He did not touch her. Instead, he slapped Shemsi's bare b.r.e.a.s.t.s, back and forth, four times-while DeyMeox clamored that Yes, she could do it; Yes, she would do it; Leave her alone! Shemsi was squealing girlishly, wailing.

"Sorry, Shemsi," he said, stroking her cheek briefly. "Her fault, you understand. If only she could control her senseless attempts at mockery."

With that message gotten across, he released DeyMeox. She went to work swiftly. The retained samples of Terato-genesis Six would make it a simple project, she said, and 201.

added no comment on him or the monstrous hideousness of his plan for the Eilan's ultimate disposal. Captured, Jesti would be a monster, an adult version of what the pregnant women of Eilong would soon be producing. A T6 monster; a thalidomide monster.

She had only just announced that she thought she had it, when the compound alarm honked. That shocked Gelor back to life from the new numbness that had taken him, and he raced to the relay room.

The flas.h.i.+ng red light was the one keyed to the main gate. Hastily Gelor flipped on the scanscreen. He looked at the tight little quartet of people poised outside the entrance. One, taller, was clearly a Jarp. Another, cloaked, was likely a woman. The other two- One left the group. A man. Broad-shouldered. Heavy-muscled. While Gelor watched, he moved off along the compound's outer wall. It threw him momentarily into light. Gelor saw the helmet, and he glimpsed purple skin. So. The Eilan had come. As Gelor had expected, and as DeyM- Gelor raced back into the main hall/workroom/prison and found her at work on Shemsi's steel bonds. She had accomplished nothing, and was soon again in bondage beside the other woman. Gelor raced back to his screens.

The Eilan was at the second gate. He tried it, and a new, alarm honked while the second gate's warning light flashed. The clamor locked Gelor's emotions in conflict. Part of him stood frozen in terror. Feelings of panic and impending doom clutched at his heart.

And yet there was another side to it. The aspect put forward by the crober. Here was Gelor's chance to defeat the Eilan, prove his supremacy. That brought a different kind of excitement. Panicked or not, he could hardly wait to take the next step. (The Eilan was at the third gate. He tried it. The alarms reported that. The gate was locked. The purple man moved on.) Only one entrance remained, to the compound. The rear gate. Hurriedly, Gelor activated circuits and threw switches. Punching final corrections into his dupladroid's programmer, he set the robopath in motion.

In perfect simulation of his own stance and stride, the 202.

thing strode from the workroom. Off down the hall to the palace postern. Out, and across the compound to the rear gate in the outer wall. (Gelor checked the screen. The purple man was rounding the corner of the wall. Just ahead of him was the rear gate. Gelor triggered the dupladroid's action track.) Opening the gate, the droid left the compound. It turned right and headed along the winding road that led to the bionarium's grounds.

Back in the shadow of the wall, the Eilan stopped short, staring, then moved swiftly forward again.

Not swiftly enough, of course. The simulacrum was programmed to keep ahead of him. As it broke into a trot, Gelor laughed aloud. The bait was taken! s.n.a.t.c.hing up his pocket programmer and abandoning the scanner room, he sprinted down the corridor to the postern entrance. In seconds he was out of the compound and racing for the bionarium-ignoring the road. He would reach it long before droid and Eilan could hope to: the interplanetary zoo that was the pride of Jasbir.

He ran up the ramp to the third level, and the monitor cell. The control chamber. He couldn't wait for the lift to take him up; his nerves were that tight and his exhilaration that great.

From his past wanderings here in his guise of researcher, he knew the woman on duty. She was so old that she drooled. A pensioner, allowed to dodder here in a post long without any real function. She looked up as Gelor entered. Recognized him and smiled. Raised a hand in greeting. She might have spoken had Gelor's spring-thing not smashed her skull. Time was too precious to be wasted on words and besides now she could never tell anyone about him.

Heaving the old corpse out of the way, Gelor studied the monitor bank.

All was quiet in the bionarium. Deserted at this hour, save for the non-human specimens it was designed to display. With few exceptions, they slept. Swiftly he focused on the monitor that scanned the barrac.o.o.ns: the cage-stalls housing newly-arrived, behemoth-level exoskele-tals awaiting cla.s.sification.

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They were no sight for a queasy stomach or a nervous man. A fair proportion of the creatures penned here were carnivores. Some were persnickety as to diet. Others were not. One must prefer liver and had broken into another stall. It was systematically ripping open a succession of smaller, hoofed creatures, rooting out the livers, and discarding the steaming bodies to die in shrieking torment. Gelor smiled. A lovely predator!

Barrac.o.o.n number six was empty. With a grunt of satisfaction, Gelor switched back to the monitor that scanned the bionarium's entrance.

Just in time. The dupladroid was already coming through the door. Working with the pocket programmer, Gelor kept it moving. First to the lift. Then down to the bionarium's subsurface depths. The barrac.o.o.ns. Number six.

Back on the surface, the purple man called Jesti had just entered. He wore a baffled look. A moment's study showed him the dial above the lift. It was moving; it stopped at SubSub 3. The purple man's eyes narrowed. He veered left and, ignoring the lift, took the slide.

Gelor felt a sting of grudging admiration. Decision comes so quickly for the Eilan! He glimpsed the dial and in a moment he'd seen not only the peril that must lie in riding the lift-pod, but an alternative. And he had at once taken advantage of it. If he had a lesser man to cope with, Gelor mused, the purple freak might even win! Back to the monitor/scanner screen.

Down on SubSub 3, the Eilan dropped from the slide. His hands were already up and combat-poised as he emerged. Feet wide apart, body hunched into a partial crouch. In every way he looked deadly dangerous. ... So dangerous that even situated as Gelor was, high up in the control room with monitors for every cranny down there, his breathing quickened and his nape p.r.i.c.kled.

The purple man moved along the narrow corridor that ran the length of SubSub 3. Warily, he peered in at the viewplate of the first barrac.o.o.n door.

Gelor smiled. Checking Barrac.o.o.n 6, he triggered the dupladroid to turn its back to the entrance. He even made 204.

it more realistic: it bent forward, as if busy with something near the door opposite.

Jesti moved along, easing only enough of his face to the viewplate to be able to see inside, then moving on. To number five, then six ... and Gelor held his breath as he watched the purple man peer into Barrac.o.o.n 6 He stiffened, ducked. Gelor watched one purple hand move, very carefully, out to press the cage-door's lockpatch. The door slid back. Silent as a Panis.h.i.+ ocelette stalking a plithit, the purple man crept forward.

High in the bionarium monitor cell, Gelor gripped the waldo that controlled the locking lever of Barrac.o.o.n 6. His other hand touched his poqket programmer, just enough to make the dupladroid twitch and s.h.i.+ft. (The Eilan froze.) Gelor made the droid straighten, twist, stretch, as if totally oblivious to any intrusion, even the possibility of an intruder. The Eilan eased forward. He was clear of the door now, his whole attention focused on "Gelor." With a shove, the real Gelor slammed home the cell-cage's locking lever. The door crashed shut and the bolt slid into its ward.

The Eilan's reaction was so fast it was hard to believe. He didn't turn to look; instead he pounced sidewise to the wall, half-turning as he did. At once he was in a position of defense in relation to both droid and door.

Not that it would do him any good. Gelor caressed his programmer. The dupladroid turned to face the Eilan. With a speed that praised Shemsi's work, it swung just as the real Gelor opened the door behind it, by remote. The droid dashed into the pa.s.sage . . . which led into the bionarium. It ran.

Even then the purple man was clever enough to check the hall door: locked. With a swift nod, he whirled and charged after the droid. And the watching Gel Gelor smiled. He even chuckled aloud.

Now he had to keep his attention on the droid. He was able to make it put on a burst of speed sufficient to evade a red-haired arm over a meter long when it shot out of a barred cage to grasp at the fleeing "man" with a four-fingered hand. The dupladroid ran on while Gelor diverted 205.

his attention long enough to close the door behind the pursuing Eilan.

Gelor had to bring the droid back to him, and keep it sufficiently ahead of the purple man. Sound-monitors were turned up, and if an animal got the Eilan Gelor would know it and pause to watch that. Otherwise . . .

Thus he did not see the red-furred arm rush out to grasp Jesti and pull him toward its cell and the hungry jaws beyond the bars; heard nothing for Jesti only grunted-as he used his knife to slash the four grasping digits of some creature off a world never settled. The thing in the cell made a coughing sound and let go. Jesti staggered, caught his blance, and ran on after what he perceived as the Handsome Man. He kept to the center of the dim corridor, now, and he could not always keep the other in sight. Three turns and two menaces later the droid took the lift. That Jesti saw, from a distance; he waited to see where the pod went, then raced up the ramp.

He reached that level in time to see a door closing. He ran to it, winded, and slowed down to peer into the control/monitor chamber. He saw a hooded, narrow-shouldered figure hunched over the screen, back to the door.

Jesti cat-footed toward it. One step. Two. Three-and the lights went out.

In total and complete darkness a body crashed into him. Desperately Jesti clutched in a one-armed bear-hug and struck, again and again-and the lights blazed on again. Jesti stared into an old woman's dead eyes. Briefly; she was already sagging to the floor. Her face tilted forward as she fell. Blood-soaked gray hair matted across the back of her head told him he had not killed her; she had been dead before, and hurled at him.

Under the impact of her fall, the figure at the monitor collapsed into a heap of empty clothing. Jesti stared, gritting his teeth.

It was a trick, he realized. All of it. A trap!

With realization came the laugh from behind him. He spun, crouching.

After so many weeks and so many planets, so much 206.

effort, he faced the Handsome Man. With a stopper, leveled at Jestikhan Churt.

"Do you know my name by now, Eilan? I am Gel Gelor."

"Do you know mine, monster?"

"I do, Eilan. Surely you're not surprised to see me?" Gel Gelor's smile was thin. "You shouldn't be. You have been following me-too close. I have a distinct prejudice against being taken prisoner. Pain distresses me. Under its influence I might even answer your questions. So-I prefer to handle the problem this way. A neat bit of distraction, the empty clothing, don't you think?"

Jesti shrugged. His brain was working, if not his mouth: He isn't the least bit winded. Why?

"You don't see it? You aren't thinking yet, purple man. No matter how much your pulsing purple heart desires it, you cannot afford to kill me. If you do, your planet's doom is sealed. I alone hold the secret of how to prepare the ant.i.toxin that's the only answer to Teratogenesis Six."

No, Jesti thought. A lie--CongCorp knows! They wouldn't have bought any of it if you hadn't sold them an ant.i.toxin at the same time. He tried hard to push a smile, and spoke; he had to keep the monster talking long enough to find a way to turn the tables on a casual murderer holding a stopper.

"You make a good point, Gelor, monster. In that case, the balance of power's in your hands. Therefore-why haven't you killed me?"

"Ah, there the issue is subtler, Eilan. You have caused me much trouble. Much nervousness, I admit. I consider that an affront for which death alone can hardly compensate. So . . ." And he squeezed the stopper.

A muscular spasm convulsed Jesti. Quivering, twitching, frozen in a strange paralysis that held him immobile yet constantly s.h.i.+vering, he hung on his feet, hardly aware of what was happening.

"Setting Two," Gelor said in a condescendingly conversational tone. "Jangles the nerves. Also robs the victim of voluntary movement and, to a considerable degree, of thought. It seemed appropriate for the course of action I have in mind."

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Keeping the stopper's beam on Jesti, the Handsome Man moved to where a Gravco gurney hung in a wall-sling. Pulling down the mobile stretcher, he sent it coasting across the room on it hovercus.h.i.+ons. Gelor followed, and toppled his enemy onto the gurney. That took swift timing; the beam had to be off the purple man before Gelor could touch him. Free of the effect only for an instant, Jesti was easily manipulated.

A casual touch sent the gurney skimming to the door. Another little midge and it was gliding down the corridor and then the ramp that led to the big echoic building's lower levels.

"You've seen the barrac.o.o.ns and standard cages," Gelor said equably. "In addition, a really big bionarium also includes viewing pits, for the observation of the interaction of ... specimens. On occasion, you can see anything from mating dances and s.e.xual congress to rutting bouts and interspecies conflict."

They reached ground level, then SubSub 1. Ahead, a door loomed. Gelor threw it open and gave the gurney a final push. It sailed out into what appeared to be a small auditorium. Settled slowly, gently, onto a floor of loose sand. At the same time, Gelor inactivated his stopper. Jesti lay gasping. When he tried, he found that he could move again.

That was a welcome discovery. He sat up and looked about.

It was an auditorium-of sorts. More specifically, he was sitting in the circular pit of an arena. s.h.i.+ning plasteel walls rose at least three meters straight up above the sand, surrounding the sand. Above, a heavy wire grating formed a canopy. Beyond that, a half-dozen tiers of seats were banked to give spectators a clear view of any action in the pit. Lowering his gaze to floor level, Jesti saw-opposite the smaller door through which he'd been shoved-six ma.s.sive portals. Jesti eyed them more than dubiously. He could have no idea as to exactly what lay behind each, but he could a.s.sume: a large animal that might consider him food, or a challenger, or even an object for mating.

Laughter drew his gaze to the seating area, and a lone 208.

spectator: Gel Gelor. He took a place at the pit's edge, between the grating and the first row of seats.

"It's hardly fair for a man of your talents to keep his abilities as a combatant a secret, Eilan! Now you can share them with an audience, even if it is only an audience of one!" He raised a hand, chuckling. "You who are about to die-we salute you!" And he reached out to some sort of control board.

Over to Jesti's right, one of the huge heavy doors swung open.

A bellow blasted thunderously. Amost instantly a Thing charged into the arena. It was considerably bigger than one of those old things called rhinoceros. Jesti saw evil little eyes and a hooked horn the length of his arm and a chitinous collar thick as brickwork.

Jesti sat very still, busily hoping the one-horn had eyesight too poor to spot him unless he moved. (He had no other name for the . . . thing.) (Gelor checked his chron. Yes; by now his simulacrum should be back in the compound. Programmed to kill anything not purple, which it was to grab, Just in case this purple freak escaped the inescapable fate of the pit!) Jesti's was a forlorn hope and a bad guess. The one-horn took one quick look and headed for him like a tank with legs. Jesti moved-fast. He ran straight for the wall. He heard the thing pounding after him, gaining. Sinking his heels into the sand to break his own rush, Jesti slammed into the wall and made a right-angle turn so sharp the plasteel burned his arm.

He kept moving. Behind him, the one-horn hit the barrier with an impact that made the whole pit vibrate. Noisily.

Jesti kept on running. Adrenaline surged through him- and, incredibly, a weird sort of ebullient zeal. Pitting a man against a monster-this was a game for an Eilan miner! With the Handsome Monster's neck for a prize if I win. When, when-when I win] He had to. And the curse of the Seven s.h.i.+karis on silly talk about doomed Eilong!

Before him towered the first of five unopened doors. Surely it was the act of a maniac to compound his danger 209.

by s.n.a.t.c.hing at the latch and heaving with all his might. That was Jesti's act.

Ponderously, the door began to open. Muscling himself up onto the locking bar, Jesti swung with it so that the door was between him and One-horn. The thing hit the door, though not so hard as Jesti feared. The set of the hinges saved him from being crushed. And now came the new development . . .

Already another creature was emerging from the pa.s.sage Jesti had opened. A worm-thing, this time. Nearly a meter thick, lithe and sinuous and so long its tail-end lay hidden in the pa.s.sage's shadows. It glided forward a score of sems and paused to glare this way and that with strange, multifaceted insectile eyes that seemed to radiate a mysterious inner light. Then it moved in another thirty or forty sems. About it was an aura of chilling menace that grew gooseflesh on Jesti's arms. When it was far enough out to look back and inspect him, he felt such an instinctive urge to flee that he dropped involuntarily from the locking bar.

Heedless of the brooding one-horn, he made a dash for the next door and opened it to take refuge behind it the same way he had the second.

Again, a shock. This time it took the form of a red-eyed, oil-slick black blob at least two meters across that oozed out into the arena/pit. It lay quiverily, bubbling on the sand.

One-horn had ignored Big-worm. The blob drew a different response: another of those bellows like thunder. It gallumphed into a lunging charge, horn lowered, straight into the blobby new freak of nature.

Even staring, Jesti was not sure whether the horn penetrated the blob or not. It surged suddenly upward like a living puddle of black oil that wrapped itself over One-horn's head, all the way to the chitinous collar. Yes, the horn came through. The blob tucked itself around it. Neatly. Air-tight. The one-horn braked. All four feet plowed deep to spew dusty furrows in the sand. Cras.h.i.+ng into the unipolymer plasteel wall with a stone-shattering, deafening impact, it sc.r.a.ped frantically against it, trying to tear away 210.

. . . what? A giant leech?-a smotherer-and-digester? Jesti had no idea.

As a matter of fact, he didn't give a d.a.m.n. He was already moving, dropping off the door's lock-bar. Watching blood spurt from the blob and feeling confident that it was One-horn's. Glancing over at One-horn's doorway. Still empty. Squatting to squint at One-horn's underside (while the blob drew tighter, tighter and its spasming prey sank to its knees). Jesti watched the great horn snap off against the wall in a jagged fracture.

And from above, he heard the laughter of a fiend from h.e.l.l. "See, Eilan? See what's in store for you? You're already dead-you just don't know it!"

The One-horn was male, Jesti had seen. Chances were excellent that it was not a monogamous animal, and no other had shown up, either. Jesti's life was at stake, and as usual he decided to try to beat the odds by intensifying them. He matched Gelor's laughter with his own while he s.n.a.t.c.hed up the broken horn.

"You're right, monster!" he yelled. "I don't! And you'd better start running, Gelor, running!"

With that he slammed the huge bone at the indecisive worm-thing and took his own advice. Jesti ran. He raced to the gurney, piled onto it like a kid belly whopping a sled, and went zooming out of the arena and down the corridor from which One-horn had come.

Staring huge-eyed, Gelor rose and started running.

18.