Momentarily he expected to feel burning agony in his back, but the attack did not come. He risked a backward glance. The white ray was no longer visible, but the snakes were still coming purposefully behind him, their great heads erect and watchful.
There was a sharp turn in the passage, and Shawn flung himself around it. He was in a cavern—a roofless cavern.
If there was a roof, it was too high for Shawn to discover. It was like standing at the bottom of a deep shaft, staring up at a haze of dim light overhead.
A sound behind him spurred him to action. He sprang over a foot-wide gulf that blocked his path, running to left and right girdling the cavern, and made for a huge structure that stood in the center of the floor. It was a machine of some nature, but more complicated than any Shawn had ever seen before. Pistons, geared wheels, enigmatic tubes and cables and great transformers made the thing a giant metal monster, crowned with a silvery sphere which illuminated the cavern. But within the recesses and shadows of the machine was room for a dozen men to hide.
Shawn darted behind a great block of crystal and burrowed his way into the interior of the construction. He found a dusty hiding-place between two thick supporting posts.
Peering out through a screen of cables, he made out the forms of his pursuers emerging from the passage. As he watched they came rippling across the cavern floor toward him, and he shrank back, his hand going instinctively toward a gun that was not in its bolster. But they had not seen him.
They paused and coiled a few yards from the machine, so that Shawn could examine them closely. Staring from his vantage point, he was struck again with their terrifying likeness to mankind.
Their shapes were those of reptiles, but their heads were irregular spheres, with magnificent brain-cases. From a side view their heads were not greatly dissimilar to man’s, save for the absence of the nose. Shawn soon discovered the purpose of the rope-like appendages fringing the necks of the creatures, for a tentacle of the nearest was coiled about a silvery sphere as large as a coconut. The globe was raised in the direction of the machine, and a crimson, pencil-thin ray shot from it.
Involuntarily Shawn flinched, but the ray was not directed at him. He heard a soft clicking, and above him a great cogged wheel began to revolve swiftly; with a multitude of gentle whisperings and clickings the machine began to operate.
Shawn felt a momentary fear that he would be crushed by the plunging, revolving parts; but his hiding-place had been well chosen. He was safe, as long as he did not venture within reach of a rod as thick as his body which rose and sank a foot away.
Assured of his temporary safety, Shawn peered out again. The walls of the cavern were sinking from view, and the floor on which he crouched was rising up into the great shaft. He was being lifted swiftly toward the cryptic glow overhead, for apparently this platform, the entire floor of the shaft, was nothing more than a huge elevator.
AS the platform rose the white-lit mouths of caverns were briefly visible, as they dropped into view and fell from sight beneath the floor level. Within these half-glimpsed caves Shawn caught glimpses of strange and monstrous creations of an alien world.
In one cave, as though on the stage of some vast theatre, he saw long tiers of metallic racks stretching into the distance, racks which held flattened gray ovoids that were like greatly magnified snake eggs. In another cave he saw a mass of unfamiliar machinery, great throbbing engines of glowing crystal and shining metal. The speed of the platform accelerated as it swept upward, so that presently Shawn caught no more than flashing glances of inexplicable things—a shapeless black mound crowned by a glowing blue flame; a gray lit cavern where dozens of the great snakes swarmed about a huge, red-dripping carcass, larger than the largest elephant; a cavern in which there stood what Shawn thought to be the image of a golden snake, fifty feet high from its lowest coils to its erect, watchful head. Then, without warning, the platform slowed its swift rise and came to a silent stop.
An empty passageway opened in the wall of the shaft. Shawn, watching, saw the two snakes uncoil and glide swiftly across the floor to the mouth of the cave. They entered it, and rippled from sight around a bend.
Shawn frowned. He dared not try to extricate himself yet, for the shining piston still rose and sank dangerously near his head, and all about him the machine was throbbing and moving. And suddenly the platform began to rise again.
It went up smoothly for perhaps two hundred feet and then stopped. The machinery slowed down; the piston fell once or twice and then came to a halt. Shawn stared out at what lay before him.
Freedom! Through a narrow slit in the wall Shawn saw the pale glow of Saturn, and caught a glimpse of whitish vegetation. Through the gap came a little breeze, cold and refreshing. Shawn began to edge past the motionless piston.
He extricated himself from the machine at last and hurried across to the opening. The possibility of the platform’s moving again made him quicken his pace—and Shawn’s leg went down into the foot-wide gulf where the flooring ended. He fell forward on hands and knees; but the sudden fall saved his life.
White-hot agony lanced along the Earthman’s back. Shawn saw from the corner of his eye a white ray of light that vanished abruptly; then the platform was sinking beneath him back into the depths—faster, ever more swiftly!
He flung himself forward, scrambled frantically for footing, half his body hanging above emptiness. But Shawn’s whipcord muscles served him now, and presently he lay on the floor of the corridor, his heart throbbing. As a muffled clanging floated up from the shaft behind him, he scrambled up and ran toward the open air.
Across the mouth of the passage was a shimmering play of colors, half invisible in the light of Saturn. Shawn extended a tentative hand, and, as nothing happened, stepped through the rainbow veil, felt the soft warmth of soil beneath his feet. He stared around.
He had emerged from a low, grayish hut of metal, its color blending with the ground to make an excellent camouflage. The forest mounted before him, a great wall hemming him in.
Where was the Eagle? Shawn didn’t know; at random he chose a direction and started into the forest. He searched his pockets, hoping to find a compass, though he knew it was no use. Cigarettes, matches, some food tablets—but nothing that would aid him now.
A RUSTLE in the dead leaves caught his attention. Three figures came from the gloom—strange, fantastic figures. Serpent-men! Similar to the one Lorna had encountered, gray skinned, snake-headed, hideous. Repugnance shook Shawn, and he remained unmoving only with an effort.
As they approached the Earthman held up his hand palm forward in the ancient peace-gesture. Startled by the sudden movement, two of the creatures sprang back and darted aside, swift as ferrets, into the forest. The remaining one stared wordlessly.
“Hello,” Shawn said, wondering how he could make himself understood. The snake-man gabbled a few hissing words.
Shawn nodded, pointed at the sky. The other hesitated, and then abruptly turned, beckoning. He looked back to see whether Shawn was following.
“Might as well,” the Earthman shrugged. “He knows where he’s going, and I don’t.” A glance around showed that the other snake-men had closed in behind him. This was not reassuring, but Shawn fought down his uneasiness.
Once a dinosaur ran into view, but after a sharp glance it fled hastily. The walk was not a long one—scarcely more than a mile—and at last Shawn came into a great clearing. A cluster of huts, built and thatched with dry leaves, huddled in the center. Around it were cultivated fields, ashy-grey in color, stubbled with whitish, straw-like vegetation.
Dozens of the snake-people were grouped together, and Shawn was conducted toward them.
Something made Shawn look up. His eyes widened as he saw a shining sphere moving, far away, above the rampart of the pale forest—the Engle! Apparently Heffley and the others had beaten back the dinosaurs, were searching for their companions. Shawn looked around, trying to discover a means of signaling his friends.
; Rough hands shoved him into the midst of the group. A crudely built wooden chariot, built on runners like a sled, supported one of the snake-men, taller than the others, wearing a string of bright stones strung together in a necklace, his loincloth also sewed with the gems. Harnessed to the chariot was a curious beast, resembling one of the dinosaurs, but somewhat larger, and covered with gleaming scales.
On the ground, huddled in a frightened heap, was Lorna! Her undergarments had been brutally ripped away, and the avid eyes of the snake-men were intent on the naked beauty of her body. Above her stood one of the creatures, snarling and gesturing angrily.
The girl was his! His, by right of possession! But the snake-man in the chariot—apparently the ruler of the tribe, the chieftain—would not agree. He roared a peremptory command.
The other hesitated, drew back. Then he launched himself suddenly up, hands clawing, fangs bared, at the throat of his chief!
But the charioteer was ready. The two men grappled, swayed and stumbled to their knees. The steed, frightened, reared, uttering loud, coughing cries. It sprang away with a great leap, and the rotten harness that held it snapped. Shouts went up from the mob; some tried to recapture the beast, but it evaded them, went stampeding to the forest, where it vanished.
Shawn’s eyes went back to the chariot. The chieftain was rising from the body of his attacker, and the latter was twitching and jerking convulsively, blood dripping from a wound in the shoulder. The charioteer dismounted, made a quick gesture. Others swiftly picked up the body of the dying snake-man and bore it away.
And now the chieftain turned toward Shawn. Cold, glittering eyes appraised the Earthman with passionless speculation. He looked at Shawn’s captor, asked a question.
The other’s answer seemed to satisfy him. He glanced down at the torn harness of the chariot, looked at the prostrate girl. At his command cold, strong hands gripped Lorna’s arms, pulled her erect. She was dragged forward.
And Shawn, too, felt himself prisoned by the snake-men, pulled to the chariot.
Soon he found himself standing, arms bound behind him, feet hobbled by a foot-long cord. Beside him stood Lorna. Fibre ropes cut into their shoulders and chests, ropes that were attached to the chariot.
Slaves of the snake-men!
CHAPTER VIII
FANGS OF DEATH
LORNA made a futile attempt to hide her slim nudity; she crouched J down, trembling, in a huddled heap, the cords digging painfully into her flesh. One of the snake-men leaped forward, dragged the girl erect. His icy hand touched her naked breast in a lascivious caress. Lorna screamed, shrinking back toward Shawn.
The man’s fist drove out viciously, but the snake-man dodged nimbly. From the chieftain came an angry roar. A whip tore a red furrow in Shawn’s back.
Snarling a curse, he whirled, fists clenched. The demon-mask of the chieftain leered at him from the chariot. The whip swung again, and a cry came from Lorna.
The sound brought sanity to Shawn. Battle against this horde would mean death, he knew—and he could not leave Lorna unprotected here. He had a plan, but it could not be carried out yet. Better to pretend obedience—
He turned, leaned forward, pulling at the ropes that bound him. They cut into his shoulders and chest, but the chariot moved forward slowly on its runners.
“Don’t try to pull,” Shawn told the girl. “Just keep step with me.”
But the chieftain saw through the subterfuge. Each time Lorna lagged the whip slashed down on her back, and the girl’s naked body was soon streaming with perspiration as she pulled at her harness. Shawn cursed, but he dared not retaliate. Not yet—not till he saw the Eagle.
Across the clearing and back again they pulled the chariot, gasping and sweating with exertion. Apparently this was some religious ceremony, perhaps connected with the planting of crops, for in their wake the snake-men followed, turning the soil with shovels and scattering seeds.
Again the two strained at the harness. Shawn had made a decision; he would attempt escape, before both he and Lorna had been driven to pain-racked exhaustion. His bound hands were behind his back, but, straining, he managed to twist them around until his fingers could be inserted in his trousers pocket. The matches were there.
From the chieftain came a cry. Hastily Shawn flipped open the folder, awkwardly tore out a match and scratched it alight. He threw it as far as he could.
The matted, dry stubble caught fire, as he had foreseen. A tongue of flame licked up hungrily. Whether the snake-people were familiar with fire Shawn didn’t know, but judging from their appearance now they were not—or, at least, were very much afraid of it.
A chorus of gobbling, croaking cries went up as the blaze spread. The group hesitated—and whirled, racing toward their village of huts. The chieftain sprang down from his chariot, followed them, but more slowly.
Shawn lit another match, tried to burn the cord that bound his wrists. The material was highly inflammable. He felt a sharp surge of pain—and his hands were free. Quickly he ripped away the harness, tore the hobbles from his legs.
The fire was dangerously close, sweeping across the dry grasses swiftly. Shawn freed the girl. They looked around, searching for escape.
“This fire—it may bring the Eagle,” Shawn said. “A signal—”
Lorna nodded. “But we’d better get out of here. Quick!”
There was a gap in the wall of flame, and they raced toward it. Behind them came an angry shout. Glancing back, Shawn saw the chieftain in pursuit.
Lorna stumbled, went to her knees. The gap in the blaze was narrowing; Shawn caught her up, half lifted her forward. Gasping, choking with smoke, they rushed through the opening, the red hell of fire sweeping toward them.
“The forest!” Lorna choked. “It—the trees won’t burn!”
From the village an outburst of shrieks came. The huts were afire, and the snake-people, trapped within them, were being roasted alive. Shawn could feel no pity for the monstrous beings.
THE two reached the forest’s edge, sank down. But they were given no respite. A blackened, roaring thing broke through the flames, came at them, eyes ablaze. The chieftain—
“Look out, Terry!” The girl’s voice was frightened. “If he bites you—” Shawn knew too well the deadly venom of the snake-man’s fangs. He pushed Lorna behind a pale tree bole, braced himself, awaiting the onslaught.
The creature hesitated, eyeing him. Taking advantage of the respite, Shawn looked around for a weapon. A dozen feet away a curiously regular arrangement of leaves and branches on the ground drew his gaze. He made a quick spring, caught up a thick, heavy limb.
The ground crumbled beneath his feet. He threw himself back, realizing that he had almost fallen into a pit, dug, perhaps, by the snake-people to trap game. Shawn went down flat on his back, and saw the chieftain charging forward, fangs bared.
The Earthman still gripped the branch, and he swung it up—and felt, his fingers sink into powdery pulp. The limb was a mere shell, rotten, useless. The dust sifted into his eyes, almost blinding him. Through a haze he saw the snake-man leaping at his throat.
Without conscious thought Shawn acted. He drew his legs up and back, kicked out with all his strength in a piston drive that smashed into the creature’s middle. The snake-man was hurled back, sent flying against the bole of a tree. But he was up again immediately.
So was Shawn. Prom the corner of his eye the Earthman caught sight of a gleaming, huge sphere dropping toward the clearing—the Eagle, summoned by the signal flames. He didn’t wait for the snake-man’s charge this time. Instead, he stepped forward, left shoulder lifted, right hand low.
As the creature came at him again Shawn swung a fast, hard punch that cracked against cold flesh with a gratifying sound. The snake-man wasn’t used to this sort of battling. He depended on his poison fangs—they failed him now.
For his neck was broken, snapped clearly under the force of Shawn’s mule-kick punch. He went back again to collapse in a writhing, kicking huddl
e on the ground, and this time he did not rise. Gradually his squirmings ceased.
Shawn looked for Lorna. She stood near by, a heavy rock in her hand, her nude body an ivory statue in the shadowless light.
Swiftly she ran to the man.
Her arms went about his neck. “Terry!” she whispered, her breath soft on his cheek. “I was afraid—”
She clung closer, her breasts flattened against his chest. Breathing hoarsely, Shawn held the girl, his mouth avid on hers. Beneath his hands be could feel the satiny smoothness of her skin, the lyric curve of her hips. His throat felt dust-filled; his heart was hammering against his ribs.
“Lorna—”
Shawn’s arms tightened spasmodically about her supple form. Between her open lips he could feel the moist, hot inferno of her breath. The girl’s hands strayed to Shawn’s hair, drawing him closer . . .
She drew back at last, smiling shakily. As Shawn moved forward Lorna stopped him with a gesture.
“The Eagle. It’s landed.”
The great, spaceship had grounded in the clearing, and running toward the two were Trost, Heffley, and Hooker Flynn, their faces unshaved and anxious.
“Terry!” Heffley hailed. “You okay? Lorna?”
“We’re safe,” Shawn shouted and moved forward, the girl at his side. Then he stopped, frozen. His hand went out in a quick gesture.
“Look out! Get back—”
FROM the cloudless purple sky raced a torpedo-shaped ship, Sun-golden, the atmosphere screaming in its wake. Scarcely slackening its speed, it dropped down toward the clearing. A few feet above the ground it jerked to a halt, dropped again with cushioned steadiness.
A porthole gaped in its side. Prom the golden ship poured—monsters! Things that bore no slightest resemblance to mankind—creatures whose appearance sent a shudder through Shawn.
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