Despot in Space

by Donald S. Rowland

  Condor started towards the aircraft, wondering what he’d done. He didn’t doubt that the strangers would have rubbed him out as easily as they liquidated the two savages, and he tightened his lips as he drew nearer and saw a slightly moving figure lying on the hot sand just clear of the wreckage. He covered it instantly with his weapon and moved in, eyes probing, watching for more trouble. He got the shock of his life when he was close enough to make out details.

  The figure that had been spilled out of the wreckage was about the size of a pygmy, but with an inordinately large head. As he circled the motionless figure, Condor saw immediately that the skull was transparent, as if it were made of thick glass. He began to imagine that the figure was not human in the sense that he understood the word, that perhaps it was some kind of a robot. But on going closer he saw that the brain inside the transparent skull was obviously natural, not manufactured, and he wondered what kind of people inhabited this alien world.

  The woman came to his side, moving swiftly and silently, and before Condor realized what she was about she had dashed a club against the pigmy’s skull, shattering it as if it had been made of glass. Condor stood shocked and startled as a mass of oozy grey substance squelched out of the broken head.

  When the woman started towards the wreckage, as if intent upon murdering any other survivor, Condor reached out and grasped her muscular forearm. She looked at him quickly, her eyes showing intelligence, and then she wrested her arm out of his grip as if he had been strengthless. She shook her head and uttered a short, bark-like sound that was both ominous and warning. Condor took a deep breath and shook his head, turning away to study his surroundings, and he saw the three warriors he had stunned getting groggily to their feet and beginning to take stock of their surroundings.

  Condor thought of the situation, and looked up the slope at the spot where he had left the space suit. He could reach it easily enough if he made a run for it, but he didn’t know how long he would have to wait for Ethne to attempt to take him back to Earth. He glanced at the woman, but she had peered into the wreckage of the aircraft and then turned away. Now she was watching the three men as they recovered their senses completely and began to come towards them.

  Condor expected to have to fight again, and he was careful to alter the setting on his hand-stunner. He didn’t want to kill any of these savages. He believed he would be safer with them than with the small creatures who had arrived in the aircraft. He didn’t know why he held such an opinion. The savages had tried to kill him and so had the newcomers, but he sensed that he had more chance against the savages if only because they were less civilized than the pigmy-type.

  The woman came to Condor’s side, and stepped half in front of him as the warriors arrived. She spoke to the men in a guttural voice that held no beauty, and Condor looked at her intently, aware that she was as tall as he and certainly almost twice as strong. She was an Amazon and a half! But the men were even greater specimens, and he found himself looking up at the foremost, peering into a thick brown face that might have belonged to some primeval man who had dropped out of a tree to take the first tentative steps of mankind.

  The man listened to the woman, then lowered his club, and he turned and barked at the other pair as they approached cautiously. Then they stood and stared at Condor, their faces impassive, their weapons lowered. Condor took a deep breath and looked at the woman. She seemed to have her wits about her, held the initiative, and he wondered what would happen now.

  She reached out and took hold of his arm with a tremendous grip, and Condor had to set his teeth to prevent a cry of pain escaping him. He listened as she spoke to him, but could make out nothing from her words. He shrugged his shoulders and she seemed to understand that. She grimaced, and he took the swiftly changing expression to be her version of a smile. She spoke again, this time in gentler tones, and tugged him as she moved away from the wreckage.

  It was obvious that she wanted him to accompany her, but he didn’t want to leave the area. He had to get back to Earth, and as soon as possible. He looked around, saw the three men closing in on him, and spotted a movement in the sky behind them. Another airship was cruising towards them.

  ‘Hey, look!’ he said, and pointed.

  The woman looked up, and Condor saw fear sweep into her heavy features. She yapped at the three men, and when they turned and spotted the craft they went leaping away, each in a different direction, making for the jumble of rocks, where they soon went to ground and were lost to view.

  ‘Looks like they’re scared,’ Condor commented, and looked into the woman’s face. ‘After what happened to the two I was fighting I can’t say that I blame them. We’d better make ourselves scarce, I think.’

  The woman nodded, and rapped out a stream of staccato sounds that meant nothing to Condor. But she dragged him with her as she started away from the wreckage, and after glancing back and seeing the airship getting much closer, Condor did not resist, but ran along at the woman’s side.

  When they reached the rocks Condor discovered that the ground was not as flat and even as he had imagined. After leading him through a maze of boulders, the woman leaped down into a natural trench that wound away across the slope. It looked like an old watercourse to Condor, and he was glad of it when they paused and the woman climbed the rocky side to peer out at the scene of their action.

  Condor joined the woman and saw the second craft descending from a couple of hundred feet to swing closer to the wreckage, and as they watched they saw a second craft coming in from beyond the range of mountains. Condor imagined that someone had called up help, and as the second craft touched down lightly he was glad that he hadn’t decided to wait around. A score of the pigmies emerged from the craft and encircled the wreckage.

  The woman touched Condor’s shoulder and indicated that they should depart, and he followed her as she ran effortlessly and with great speed along the sinuous course. The three men were nowhere to be seen, and Condor smiled grimly as he tired, but he still managed to stay within a couple of yards of the hurrying female.

  From time to time she scaled the side of the watercourse and peered out, but when Condor tried to do the same she pushed him away, shaking her head. He shrugged and left it to her, and she came leaping down once and hurled herself upon him, bearing him to the ground under a shallow overhang. Before he could struggle, a dark shadow swept overhead, and he caught a glimpse of a searching aircraft that moved swiftly and silently like some gigantic bird of prey.

  They sat and listened intently, but there was nothing to be heard, and when they went on Condor found himself breathing heavily. Perhaps the air was thinner on this alien world, he told himself. But he was not moving half as effortlessly as the woman. He looked at her, found himself being regarded by her unblinking stare, and he sighed and shook his head. He was getting too involved in this world when all he wanted was to be able to depart when Ethne used the Celertron.

  He thought of Ethne as he concentrated upon running behind the woman, and he began to wonder if he had not fallen into a nightmare. Would he awaken shortly to find himself in his apartment? He tried to ease his harsh breathing, and stumbled and went sprawling when the woman halted suddenly at a bend in the watercourse and he cannoned into her. He hit the ground hard and rolled, and as he fetched up against a rock he heard the woman’s sharp cry of terror.

  Looking up, Condor saw the reason for her distress. There were three pigmies in the gully, standing before them, weapons in their hands, weapons that were being raised even as Condor spotted them. Quick as a flash Condor tugged his hand-stunner from his belt. The woman was leaping at the foremost of the pigmies, attempting to do battle with her bare hands, and Condor grimaced when she got between him and his targets. He shouted at her, trying to distract her, but she did not understand his words, and then the pigmies were using their weapons. Beams of light flickered out from the hands of the little men. The woman fell without a sound.

  Condor started to his knees, bringing his hand-s
tunner into action. But a light beam flicked at him and he saw a brilliant white flash before his eyes. His brain seemed to hum for a moment, then everything went black and he crumpled soundlessly…

  It took Condor a long time to regain his full senses. At first he lay half mindless, his eyes closed, a buzzing sound in his ears. Then his thoughts started, his memory returning jerkily. But he rejected the thoughts his memory fed him. He could not accept that he had been through the Celertron, which had deposited him upon an alien planet. He thought it was all part of a nightmare, but he was too lethargic to do more than consider it. He could not break the drowsy feeling that gripped him. He did not even attempt to open his eyes.

  But his nostrils were not at fault, and they began to warn him that he was not alone. He recognized the warm smell of human company, and for a moment believed that it had all been a bad dream. His eyes flickered open and he looked up at a bare metallic ceiling. It was like no ceiling he had ever seen before, and as he shook his sense of paralysis off he came to the conclusion that he was still dreaming.

  When he sat up and looked around he found the woman lying quite close, alive but unconscious, and her face was in repose, her breast rising and falling steadily. Condor sat and stared at her features for a long time, his mind letting his memory filter back quite clearly. He looked around slowly, having to force his mind to work, and he saw that the walls and floor of this strange room were made of the same dull metal as the ceiling. It took him a long time to become aware that there was no discernible door to the room.

  Where were they? He got slowly to his feet, feeling weak, drained of vitality, and leaned against the wall.

  The woman did not move. He recalled the pigmies, their transparent skulls gleaming in the sunlight, and then the white brilliance that had exploded inside his skull. At least he was not dead! The thought crossed his mind that he was indeed fortunate not to have been reduced to a brown smear like those two unfortunate savages who had fled from the aircraft.

  But he imagined that he was in deep trouble, and if the pigmies discovered that he had been responsible for the crashing of the aircraft then he could expect no mercy. He felt that he knew something of the situation that existed on this planet. The pigmies were evidently further advanced than the savages, and there was a war of sorts going on between the two races. The savages didn’t appear to have advanced beyond the club and brute-strength stage yet, and the pigmies possessed knowledge and abilities at least the equal of men on Earth.

  Condor moved closer to the woman and studied her, a frown on his face. She didn’t appear to be old, probably in her mid-twenties. Her hair was black and straight, and there were no ornaments on her person. She might have come out of the Stone Age, he thought, and placed her degree of evolution in or around that period. That being so, he could not expect any kind of help from her race, and he wondered if he would get the chance to talk to the pigmies. He could not afford to treat them as enemies. Whatever the situation here on the planet, he had no part in it, and if they let him leave when Ethne was ready to transport him back to Earth then all well and good.

  The woman stirred and groaned, and Condor sat watching her coming back to consciousness. She didn’t take as long as he had done. There was more animal in her, and instinct worked quickly. She stiffened when she sensed that she was not alone, and the next instant her head lifted and her dark eyes stared at him. There was a lightening of her eyes for a moment, and then she evidently recalled what had happened. She eased herself into a sitting position and stared impassively at him.

  ‘We seem to be in a lot of trouble,’ Condor said, and she blinked at the sound of his voice. He stared at her, but she made no attempt to reply, and he wondered what was passing through her primitive mind. There seemed to be an air of resignation about her, as if she had lived her life aware that she might possibly fall into the hands of the pigmies at some time. Now it had happened, and she was stoically awaiting the end, whatever that might be.

  Condor got up and walked around the room, examining the walls for a door, but found nothing, not even the slightest crack. He gave up and returned to the woman’s side, squatting by her, looking into her depthless brown eyes and wishing he could communicate with her. She stared at him silently, not taking her gaze from him for a moment, and Condor began to wonder if she had been affected at all by the weapons that had been used against them.

  His gun was gone from his belt, and his pockets had been searched. Nothing had been taken away from him, although the contents of his pockets were of little value in this present situation. He took a wrist recorder from his pocket, spoke into it and then played back the recording. He saw the woman’s face twitch, and her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. He held her attention, then tapped his chest with a long forefinger.

  ‘Rez!’ he said, then pointed a finger towards her. She made no reply, but stared at him, and Condor repeated the sequence a number of times without evoking any response. When he fell silent she stirred and lifted a long finger to tap her breast.

  ‘Naa!’ It was more like a grunt than a word.

  ‘Naa?’ Condor tried to repeat it exactly, and saw a glint come into her dark eyes.

  ‘Naa!’ she said again, a little more clearly.

  ‘Rez,’ he said, tapping his chest again, and her lips twitched slightly. He thought she was going to say it after him, but she remained silent, and Condor stifled his impatience. He wouldn’t get anywhere trying to force any issues.

  A hissing sound startled him and he looked around quickly, to see an oval section of the wall behind him sliding upwards. A massive figure stood in the entrance, and Condor felt his blood run cold as he looked at it.

  The figure was about eight feet tall; humanoid in appearance, but certainly not resembling any kind of a human Condor had ever seen. He knew from the history of Man’s exploration of Space that the limited range of conditions that produced life usually produced it in the same form, with few variations. There were several distinctly different life-forms in the galaxies, based on various chemicals which caused changes, and the vagaries of evolution sometimes resulted in other offshoots, but usually life had followed a fairly constant pattern.

  Now he looked at this tremendous figure and came to the conclusion that it was a robot. It had a body, two arms and legs, and the head had recognizable features. But there was no mouth, and the eyes appeared to be made of glass. The thing stepped into the room, walking slowly on its two legs, and as it came closer, Condor saw that it was made of dark clay. He threw a glance towards the woman, and saw that she had slumped back on the floor and was pretending to be still unconscious.

  The figure halted before Condor, who felt dwarfed and tense. The eyes glowed and the right arm lifted. There were thick, stubby fingers on a broad hand, but the index finger was hollow, giving Condor the impression that it contained some kind of weapon. He imagined that this was a very big man covered in dried mud, and he studied it intently, wondering what was going to happen.

  ‘Follow me!’ The voice that sounded from the chest of the clay man was metallic and stilted. The figure turned ponderously and stalked out of the room, and Condor followed it before he realized that he had understood the sharp command.

  As surprise stabbed through him he heard the oval door hiss shut, and he looked around, unable to see where the door fitted into the wall. He found himself standing in a long, wide corridor, and there was light inside it although no windows were in evidence and there were no signs of interior lighting.

  The clay man strode on, and Condor followed the nightmarish figure because he could think of nothing else to do. The corridor seemed endless, and there were no turnings. Nowhere was there any distinguishing marks to denote the whereabouts of other doors, and when the clay man halted abruptly and turned to face the metallic wall Condor stopped and watched.

  The robot gave no obvious signal, but suddenly a section of the wall slid aside, revealing the entrance to another corridor which stretched away endlessly. Condor f
igured that they were below ground, and imagined for a moment all the mountains he had seen upon his arrival on this alien planet. He followed the robot as the machine started along this other corridor, and he pondered on his chances of escape. He didn’t think he would get good treatment at the hands of the pigmies, judging by the way they had shot down the savages without warning, and he wished he had his hand-stunner.

  He eyed the back of the clay man as they continued, trying to judge his chances of overpowering him, and he looked ahead, wondering what lay awaiting him. He couldn’t see an end to the corridor, and he realized that his adventures on the alien planet had no end. It didn’t seem as if he could get back to his point of arrival, unless he escaped.

  Acting upon a sudden impulse, Condor moved forward swiftly to tackle the clay man, and he seized hold of a massive arm and exerted his strength, turning the big figure towards him. Then he bent and hauled the clay man across his broad shoulders, spinning instantly and hurling himself at the nearest metal wall, bringing the clay man’s head into violent contact with the wall.

  The weight of the man overbalanced him, and Condor shrugged the burden aside, staggering a few yards as he took to his heels. He ran forward as fast as he could, and after covering some distance he glanced back over his shoulder. The clay man was lying on one side on the floor, his legs still moving spasmodically, the movements forcing him around in a convulsive circle of which his head formed the hub.

  Condor kept running, filled with desperation and hope. There was no sound except for his feet on the metal floor, and when he looked back again at the clay man he saw the figure was still down and out of action.

  But suddenly there were doors opening in the corridor ahead of him, and Condor halted when other clay men appeared. Six, a dozen, a score appeared and filled the corridor ahead of him, moving ponderously towards him, right arms raised and hands extended, and Condor clenched his teeth when he recalled that these strange robots had hollow index fingers.