Queen of the Panther World

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Queen of the Panther World Page 4

by Berkeley Lingston


  I sat straighter. Hank too . . . I winced as I grinned in reply to something which had occurred too. Maybe the big guy hadn’t knocked me cold but he sure had damaged me a bit.

  “And that does us good here,” I said.

  “No. Nor did it do any good down there, either. Those stickers they had, carried more weight than our fists. It’s just something we ought to keep in mind. Of course, the thing to remember now is that Luria knows we’re here——”

  “She does?” I guess my voice was a bit on the sarcastic side. He turned like a shot and stepped to my side. I didn’t like the look in his eyes.

  “Listen! And get this straight!” he snapped. “I don’t want any wrong cracks about that girl . . .”

  I laughed and waved my hands in a gesture of good-will. “Just talking, Hank,” I said.

  His fingers waved a pattern in front of my eyes:

  “So stop talking and listen. She said she’d see us here. And not to worry.”

  “Not to worry, eh? Well, that’s good to know. So what are we supposed to do while we’re here, count the straws on the bed?”

  “I don’t know. She just said not to worry. That she’d get to us.”

  I GRUNTED something in disgust and stretched out on the straw. It got under my shirt collar, into my trousers, my ears and even in my socks. I thought, if she were going to get here, to do it soon. A little more of this and I’ll go wacky. After a bit Hank got tired of supporting the bars and came down to sit by my side. He hummed a snatch of a popular tune. It was his way of being deep in thought. Me, I was also deep in thought, thought of a steak at Gus’s.

  I’m a bit deaf in one ear and after listening to that tuneless humming of Hank’s for a while I turned my good ear to the straw and faced the wall. The masonry wasn’t in too good a condition. In fact it was cracked and flakes of grey stuff lay like dandruff on the surface of the wall. I began to peel some of the stuff. It peeled like wallpaper, and like wallpaper, some of it stuck. I yanked at it, then in anger punched at it. My fist almost went through the wall.

  I yelped in pain and Hank turned to see what had happened. One look and he was crawling to my side.

  “Hey,” he whispered in excitement. “What goes?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered in return. “But this stuff’s about as strong as oatmeal mush. Have a crack at it but first put your hanky around your knuckles.”

  As I said before, Hank, though a small man, had the muscles and hands of a carpenter. When he slammed his wrapped fist into that masonry something gave and it wasn’t his hand. That simply disappeared into the wall almost to his elbow. I knelt on the bed behind him, grabbed him about the middle and yanked backward. We fell off the bed as the hand came out of the wall faster than we thought.

  “My God!” Hank said in disgust as he stared at the hole in the wall. “Are we dopes. There’s a ram we could have used and we go around bustin’ knuckles.”

  I knew what he meant. The bed. It had a metal frame. In a few seconds the bed was apart. We used the long metal sides as rams. It wasn’t more than a couple of seconds later that light streamed through the twin holes we made in the wall. What surprised me was that no one had heard us with all the racket we were making. But I certainly didn’t care. Dust and bits of stone fell about us in a grey shower as we widened the holes into one large hole. It was big enough after a few moments for the both of us to crawl through side by side. So we did.

  We came out on a sort of balcony. Since the building was circular the balcony was also circular. There was a ledge perhaps a couple of feet high acting as a break against the straight drop. I peered downward and saw that there was no escape that way. And we had to escape. Because the instant we were through, the patrons of this bastille began a caterwauling of sound that should have awakened the dead. Only it wasn’t the dead we were worrying about.

  “Up! The roof. It’s our only chance,” Hank shouted and started up the sill of the prison we’d just quitted.

  The wall, I saw then, was not flat or smooth. There were serrations and rough spots which were deep in the stone. One didn’t have to be an acrobat to ascend but it would have helped. Then we were on the roof.

  As far as I could see we hadn’t gotten anywhere except up. But Hank had other thoughts. He started at a run for the far end away from the center. I followed. What else was there to do? I saw when we got there why he had headed for it. As I said in the beginning, the buildings were constructed like pueblos. We were looking down at a setback that was only a half-story below us. Hank, being an artist, had formed a picture of what the interior had to be like from what he saw of the exterior. It was a long jump but we didn’t hesitate a second. I landed in a heap beside Hank.

  Instantly we were up and heading for the next set-back. We knew the alarm would not be long in sounding.

  We made the second; three more to go, I thought, as we raced for the third. This time we didn’t quite make it. There were many openings on this level. And as we started for the jump-off place, men began to pour from these openings. We ran like scared rabbits, but they had the speed of deer. There were some twenty or thirty waiting for us at the edge.

  We slowed to a walk, then to a stop. As usual their stickers were facing our way.

  “SO,” LOKO said in wearied tones.

  “You are strong men. Prisons do not hold ye. Then we shall have to throw ye into a something which will. I did not want to do what I am going to unless my hand was forced. Ye have forced it. Throw them into the pit . . .”

  There were a heck of a lot more guards this time than before. Our march to this pit Loko spoke of was a regular processional. The whole blamed village turned out to see us, men, women and children. I noticed that the tribe was a tribe of warriors. All, men, women and children, bore arms. They were neither gentle in appearance or manners. We received the physical manifestations of a Bronx cheer in the parade to the pit. I learned there were many strange and illsmelling vegetables on Pola. Some of the kids threw like a Blackwell and with a bit better aim.

  The guards thought it was good fun until several of them got caught in the kisser by some bad throws. Then they shagged the kids. By that time we’d reached the end of the pueblo city. The way led up and down hill for several miles. Toward the end of our journey there were just a few of the villagers left, all women. I got a very strong impression that the women were far more savage than the men. There was something so frightening in their bright looks, as if they would just as soon have our ends over with on the spot.

  We reached our goal at last. I know I breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever we had to face in the pit would not be as frightening as those women. Of course I hadn’t seen the pit. I was to learn better.

  It was a strange pit. For it was located on a high, or a sort of earthen, tower which stuck up like a lonely finger on the bosom of the plain. A long series of steps wound around the tor to the very top. We were forced to walk ahead, the prodding swords acting as an incentive. At the top we found another series of steps, these leading downward from a platform on the top. I hadn’t too much time to observe but in the few seconds I noticed that the top of the tor had been leveled flat so that a great many people could be accommodated on the surface.

  As Hank and I wound our way down the face of the tor we noticed that circular opening had been cut into the face of the tor. Our way led evenly between these openings. I became aware of strange odors, bitter-sweet, an acrid stench which turned my stomach the more I got a whiff of them. We could see before we passed them, that these openings had bars before them. Odd muffled sounds were heard. Once we were startled out of our wits by a roaring sound, which, if it did come from an animal, must have been the largest beast in any world. It made a lion’s roar sound like Mickey Mouse’s squeak.

  Going up we were close to the face and going down we were too busy in the descent. But once we reached the bottom and looked upward we saw how far we were from the top. The blasted thing looked miles away. There were fly specks on the platfor
m way up there.

  We saw them busying themselves at something. And suddenly there was a vast clattering sound and the stair down which we’d come, reversed itself. One problem was answered. If we were to escape, it would not be by way of that winding staircase.

  “Shall we dance?” Hank asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, looking about me. “To the Dance Macabre.”

  HE SAW what I meant. The floor of the huge circular pit was covered by innumerable stains. One glance was enough to tell us only blood left that particular stain. As if that wasn’t enough the whitened bones of hundreds of humans were scattered about. Many a party had been thrown by the lads and lassies of Loko’s menage.

  “D’ja notice,” Hank asked, “that although the sun hasn’t stopped shining for a single second we haven’t felt any discomfort?”

  “What’s more peculiar,” I reminded him, “is that we have no desire for sleep. I’m speaking for me of course.”

  “Right. And I’m not hungry either.”

  “Let’s hope the zoo isn’t hungry,” I said.

  “Could be, Berk,” he said after a moment’s silence, “we won’t get out of this spot.”

  “Speaking of zoos,” I said, “wonder how our friend Mokar and his mistress are making out?”

  The funniest expression came into Hank’s eyes. As though he’d been clipped by a phantom punch. They looked dazed. Words stumbled their way past his lips:

  “Yes . . . I hear . . . We will . . . obey . . .”

  I got scared and shook the guy. That’s all we needed was for Hank to get screwy on me. Things were bad enough. He came out of it okay. In fact he grinned quite like his normal self.

  “What happened? Another seance with Luria?” I asked.

  “Yes. Come on. We’ve got to get to the center of the arena. Loko wants us out of the way. His boys will be here soon.”

  Soon, it turned out, was that very moment. They must have been right on our heels. Suddenly the platform above was black with people. It was impossible to make out the figures of any.

  “Yipe!” Hank howled. “Look!”

  His quivering finger was pointing up toward the face of the tor. A huge something was clinging to the sheer wall just below one of the openings. Slowly it began to crawl downward. There was something horrible in that sluggishly moving shape. It moved with infinite care yet with a surety that was startling for so large a thing. As it neared the pit we saw it more clearly. I’ve always wondered what it meant for blood to run cold. I knew then.

  It was something from out of a nightmare. To a child versed in the fairy tales it was a dragon. To me, it was a prehistoric beast. It had a great triangular head and a massive body which was scaled from the head to the long tail. Wisps of smoke trailed from its nostrils. I crowded close to Hank as though in mutual protection. And he in turn began a slow retreat to the point farthest from where the beast would land.

  God! It must have stretched a good fifty feet. The great head split and from the many-rowed teeth came a terrible stench. A roar split the silence of the pit as it shook its head from side to side. Then it saw us and began a cumbrous movement in our direction. We kept retreating until our backs were against the granite of the wall. It followed relentlessly, surely.

  “You run one way,” Hank breathed heavily. “I’ll run the other.”

  Perhaps the beast had been used to easier prey. For as we split up and ran for the opposite wall, it stood still, its head moving from side to side as if in wonderment at our sudden disappearance. When it finally did move it was with express train speed, the murderous tail swishing about in a vicious swing.

  ONCE more we faced it together, but this time from the opposite wall. We knew, however, that the respite we had gained was small. No matter how many times we ran from it, we had no place to go except in a circle. And soon or late, we would have to stop from sheer exhaustion. Then . . .

  Once more it lumbered toward us, and again we broke for the other wall. We were breathing a bit heavily as we faced the beast again. The faint echo of shrieking voices reached our ears and we involuntarily looked upward. We groaned in unison when we saw the reason for the shouting. They had let another of the horrors at us. We could see the huge body crawling down the granite wall.

  “Run, Berk!” a voice screamed in my ear.

  We had forgotten the beast. As we had looked upward it had moved forward, Hank spotting it first. He leaped to safety, but I wasn’t that lucky. The very tip of the tail caught me as I tried to leap to one side and sent me sprawling. I said the beast had the speed of a train when it moved. I was barely on my feet when it was on me.

  I had fallen close by a pile of bones. Stooping, I picked a thigh bone from the pile. And swinging it like a bat, I let the thing have it right across its ugly fire-spitting snout. Surely there was no hope or reason for my act. But I wasn’t going to go down without at least one blow in my defense, no matter how puny it was.

  I could only stare, open-mouthed, as the beast snorted loudly and retreated from me. With a wild yell spouting from my lips I followed it, belaboring it across the snout with my bone-bat. Hank, seeing what was taking place, came to my assistance. We were laughing, I guess in hysteria, at the way things were going, when it happened. We had forgotten that damned tail.

  One sudden swish and we were both knocked from our feet. And this time there were two of them at us. The second had arrived to the festive board. Their mouths were big enough to take us in at a single gulp. I had time for one prayer, as I tried to gain my feet.

  I swear their teeth were inches away when that terrific wind came up. My senses started to reel. I couldn’t move a muscle, not even an eyelid. There was this wind, and this black cloud that came from nowhere. My ears rang with a shout . . . “LURIA” And blackness enfolded me in a comforting blanket.

  “BERK! Berk!”

  Wind was sweeping past me in a constant wave. It cooled my sweaty brow. There was a strange up-and-down movement. I opened my eyes—and grabbed tightly at what lay beneath me.

  “You okay, kid?” Hank asked.

  He was directly ahead of me, in fact so close we were twins on Mokar’s back. Hank’s right arm was about Luria’s waist. She had saved us from the very mouths of our doom. I didn’t care how she did it nor was I interested. In fact, I didn’t have time to worry about the fact that we were riding on the back of a panther. I only knew I was alive. It was enough for me.

  But after a few moments of this pounding run I began to sit up and take notice. For one thing, Mokar was running so smoothly, in such marvelous bounds, that the action was slick as oil.

  For another thing the surroundings were exotic in the extreme.

  We were in the midst of jungleland. The trees were magnificent in their height and variety. Birds of brilliant-colored plumage sang from bush and branch. The air was invigorating and surprisingly free of humidity. Mokar was sure-footed. His lithe shape never disturbed a single branch as he moved along an invisible trail. Luria sat high up on his body close to the muscled shoulders. She was clothed in the same sort of costume I saw on the warrior women by Loko’s side. A slender, needle-tipped spear was couched along one elbow. She looked straight ahead.

  The jungle ended abruptly and we entered a grassy plain set in gently rolling hills. Mokar’s pace never slackened though our weight must have been considerable even for him. The miles flew by in endless procession. Then with a suddenness that took my breath away, while we were in the midst of what looked like bundles of straw, hundreds of shapes came to life.

  The bundles of what I thought had been straw, were humans. And not a single one of them was a man. I didn’t hear Luria give voice to any command, yet Mokar slowed his pace and after a very short while stopped running altogether. Luria slid from his back and Hank and I followed, although more gingerly. In an instant we were surrounded by the hundreds of chattering women. They’re the same all over, the instant you give them a chance to tat-tete, they start full blast.

  I’ll say this
for Luria. She didn’t give them too much opportunity to work their jaws on talk. Her arm with the spear held high shot up and silence fell among the warrior-women. As they gathered close I looked them over. There were short ones, tall ones, slim ones and fat ones, beauties and ugly ones, calm ones and those whose eyes looked fierce enough to frighten Boris Karloff. In other words, they looked no different than those on the planet we’d quitted what seemed like years before.

  NOT all were giving Luria attention.

  There were some who stole glances at us. There was one in particular. She was rather tall, certainly taller than I, whose hair was the color of molten gold, whose eyes were sapphires swimming in a sea of pearl. Her bosom rose high and well-formed in the breastplate she wore. And as she saw my admiring glance her breath quickened and her face flushed. I made a mental note that if the time ever came for talk, I’d forget to.

  Luria nodded for us to step to her side. Then, as the others faced us, Luria began to talk:

  “These are the ones I promised to bring. The secret my father, the great Oman, taught me has been put to use. But as he warned, I could not bring other than their bodies. More, I could not foresee the place of their arrival.

  “So misfortune came to them. One of Loko’s bands found them before I could reach them, and brought them before the tyrant. Warriors! Loko threw them into the pit . . .”

  A gasp of horror went up at the words.

  “Yes,” Luria went on. “Into the pit. Strangers on the planet of Pola. Loko violated again the holiest words of my father. Oh, that he were alive . . .”

  “Mighty Oman, may his soul leave the place of its abode and help us,” the women intoned solemnly.

  Hank and I kept stealing puzzled glances at each other. But our curiosity had to contain itself. We knew that a lot of answers would soon be given.

  . . His thousand years of reign brought Pola a great peace after the tens of thousands of years of wars. Now Loko has it in mind to break that peace. He has even enlisted the aid of men . . .”

 

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