”Karl!” Ali’s voice rose to a scream, “Look out-Let up!”
There was a crash as a piece of rock gave way, bashing down into the corridor of the maze. Just in the last instant the jetman had moved, but he did not give more than the few feet necessary to preserve the minimum safety.
With his free hand he beat at a smouldering patch on his breeches. But his grip on the blaster did not waver and the beam of destruction continued to bore in just where he had aimed it.
By the flame Dane saw the Rigellian’s face. His wide eyes centred on Kosti and there was a kind of horror mirrored in them. He edged away from the inferno at the portal, but more as if he feared the man who induced it than if he were afraid of the blaster work.
“That does it!” Kosti’s voice was muffled in his helmet.
As yet they dared not approach the glowing door he had cut for them. But since he had holstered his arm it was plain that he thought the job done. Now he came back to join them, pushing up his visor so by the glow of the cooling rock they could see his face wet and shiny. He pounded vigorously with his gloved hands at places on the front of his tunic and breeches and carried with him the taint of singed leather and fabric.
“What’s out there?” Dane wanted to know.
Kosti’s nose wrinkled. “Another hallway as black as outer space. But at least we can get of this whirly-round!”
Impatient as they were to be on their way, they must wait until it was safe to cross that cut which radiated heat. Adjusting helmets, improvising a protection for Ali from the Rigellian’s tunic, they made ready. But before they went Kosti gave a last attention to their captive.
“We could pull you through,” he observed. “But you might fry on the way, and besides you’d be a dead jet breaking our speed if we tangle with any of your friends outside. So we’ll just store you in deep freeze-to be called for.” He fastened the man’s ankles as well as his wrists and rolled him away from the heated portion of the corridor.
Then with Ali in their midst they hurried through the cut and out into the hall. Darkness closed about them once more, and an experiment proved that here, as well as in the maze, the torches could not fight the blackness. But at least the way before them was smooth and straight and there were no openings along it to betray them into wrong turnings.
They slowed their pace to accommodate Ali, and went linked together by touch as they had in the maze.
“Worm’s eye view-” Kosti’s grumble came through the sable quiet. “Did the Forerunners have eyes?”
Dane slipped his arm about the swaying Ali’s shoulders and gave him support. He felt the engineer-apprentice wince as his clumsy grasp awoke some bruise to life and adjusted his hold quickly, though Ali made no sound of protest.
“Here is an opening, we have reached the end of this way,” Mura said. “Yes, beyond is another passage-wider, much wider-”
“A wider road might lead to a more important section,” Dane ventured.
“Just so it gets us out of here!” was Kosti’s contribution. “I’m tired of jetting around in this muck hole. Go on, Frank, take us in.”
The procession of four moved on, making a sharp turn to the right. They were now marching abreast and Dane had an impression of room about them, though the dark was as complete as ever.
Then they were stopped, not by another barrier but by noise-a shout which exploded along the hall with the crack of a stun rifle. In a moment it was followed by just that-the crack of a rifle.
“Down!” Mura snapped. But the others were already moving.
Dane ducked, pulling Ali with him. Then he was lying flat, trying to sort out some meaning from the wild clamour which floated back to them.
“Small war on-” that was Kosti managing to make himself heard between two bursts of firing.
“And it’s coming our way,” Ali breathed close to Dane’s ear.
The cargo-apprentice drew his blaster, though he did not see how he was going to make much use of it now. To fire blindly in the dark was not a wise move.
“Yaaaah-” That was no shout of rage, it was the yammering scream of a man who had taken his death wound. And Ali was very right-the battle was fast approaching where they lay.
“Back against the walls,” again Mura gave tongue to a move they were already making.
Dane clutched a portion of Ali’s torn tunic and felt it rip more as he pulled the engineer-apprentice after him to the right. They fetched up against the wall and stayed there, huddled together and listening.
A flash of light cracked open the curtain about them. Dazzled, Dane had an impression of black forms. And then a smouldering patch of red on the wall was all that marked the burst of a blaster.
“Lord of High Space,” Ali half whispered. “If they beam those straight down here, we’ll fry!”
Feet pounded towards them and Dane stiffened, clutching his weapon. Maybe he should fire at the sound, knock out the runners before they came too close. But he could not bring himself to squeeze the trigger. All a Trader’s ingrained distrust of open battle made him hesitate.
There was light up there now. Not the grey, ghostly gloom which had once lit these halls, but a thick yellow shaft which was both normal and reassuring to Terran eyes. And against that the four from the Queen saw five figures take cover on the floor, ready-no longer fleeing, but turning to show their teeth to their pursuers.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: UP SHIP AND OUT
“SURRENDER! IN THE name of the Federation-” the voice boomed from the walls about them.
“Patrol!” Ali identified the order.
All right-so the Patrol had landed, Dane was willing to accept that. But which of the parties before them represented law and order? Those waiting attack, or those behind the light, waiting to deliver it?
The light steadily advanced-until one of those in wait shot straight into its heart. There was answering fire through the resulting dark and someone screamed.
If they had any sense, Dane thought, they would now retreat to the maze until the fight was over. This was no time to get caught in a mix-up between Rich’s forces and the Patrol. But he made no move to pass that bright thought on to Ali. Instead he found himself levelling his blaster, taking aim through the dark at the roof of the hall in which they lay. He pressed the trigger.
The voltage was still set on “low” but the beam struck the roof and bit in. And he had not misjudged the distance too badly-that burst of light revealed the men who had shot out the Patrol light-he was sure that the Patrol were the light party now. Their white faces, mouths agape, stared up at the glowing core of destruction over their heads as if they were hypnotized by it. Only one moved, throwing himself back, passing under that coruscating splotch, towards the men from the Queen. But he did not get past them.
Kosti launched his body out of the shadows, barely visible in the fading gleam from the roof. He should have struck the fleeing man head on. Instead the other made an unbelievably swift twist of his body which carried him almost by the contact point. Had the jetman’s fingers not caught in the fugitive’s belt, he would have made it.
Dane fired again, sending a second bolt of fire up beside the first to give Kosti light for his fight. But the flash revealed a far different scene. A figure as tall as the jetman was getting to hands and knees for a second forward dash, while Kosti lay limp and still.
Ali moved, clumsily but at all the speed he could muster, rolling out so that the other stumbled over his body and went down once more. And then Dane used the blaster for the third time, aiming at a point behind them, bracketing the would-be escapee with the blaze.
“Stop!” again the voice boomed about them. “Stop firing or we’ll bring a flamer in and sweep this whole hall!”
A wild beast’s snarl from the shadows answered. And at the edge of the last glowing splotch, the one meant to barricade the passage, a dark shape prowled back and forth, its crouching outline suggesting something not human.
Then the light went on again, catching them all in its glare. Nearest to the source of it three outlaws stood, their empty hands rising above their heads. But the beam reached on, past them, to reveal Kosti. The big jetman lay still, a trickle of blood on his chin. On the radiance swept pinpointing Mura as he hurried to Kosti, bringing Ali into focus as he hunched over, clutching at his chest, coughing.