Chapter IV

At once they were engulfed in a concourse of Mercurians. Jaro stared about him in amazement. The narrow dim-lit way was jammed with revelers. The women wore the historic costume, a short skirt low on bare hips and a diminutive jacket with squared sleeves. Their black hair was done up on top of their heads with blossoms of the red egalet that only blooms during the Rains. Wooden clogs were fastened to their feet. The men wore gaudy, loose trousers and cummerbunds of green. Their chests were bare, and many bands of hammered silver ornamented their arms.

The three revolutionists wriggled their way into a grog shop. They were served wine and thin strips of cheese with some strange, hexagonal crackers.

"Why can't I get assignments like this often?" bewailed Landovitch.

"Don't look now," said Joan, "but a man's following us."

Jaro lit a cigarette, allowed his eyes to scrutinize the room. A short, fat Earthman lounged at the door. The waiter offered him a glass of Latonka which he refused. He had a hat perched on the back of his head. He wore a white coat but no shirt. A second Earthman pushed through the door. The fat man raised an eyebrow, nodded imperceptibly toward Jaro. The second man took a seat at a table to their left. Jaro's eyes flitted about the room. On the other side two men sipped Latonka. They were Venusians. Tall, lean, yellow skinned men, they reminded him of Manchus. Each, he noticed with a start, had a pale blue star about the size of a dime tattooed on his forehead. Fazoqls! The caste of professional killers! His experience during the wars among the Federated Venusian States had given him a great respect for the Fazoql's cast. They were men without fear. He nudged Landovitch.

"We're in a trap," he smiled, sipped his wine. He looked as if he were passing the time of day. He said, "Joan get between us. Saunter toward the door."

Two more Earthmen squeezed inside. The fat man nodded his head. The two Venusian Fazoqls pushed back from the table.

The fat man intercepted them. "Where you going?" he asked with a smile.

Jaro hit him in the mouth. Landovitch kicked someone in the stomach; shot one of the Fazoqls, clouted a third ruffian over the head. Jaro was grateful that Landovitch was with him. The big T.I.S. agent in action combined the destructive ability of an octopus and a tornado. They dived for the door. Then Jaro saw Landovitch topple over.

The second Fazoql had walloped him over the head with the leg of a chair. The lights went out. Joan screamed. Jaro felt her hand torn from his arm. He thought, "Mercurians!"

Something hit him over the head.

* * * * *

After a while Jaro came to. He stood up, bumped his head against the ceiling. It was dark. He felt about with his hands. He seemed to be in a cubical cell about four feet square and not much higher. He could neither stand up nor lie down. It was so deep beneath the city, he couldn't hear the flutes. His head ached. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the cell, he discovered by the sense of touch, were stone. He sat down, his back to the wall. He wondered dully what had happened to Landovitch and Joan. Did Albert Peet or Karfial Hodes have the girl?

He thought ruefully that Peet probably had her. The presence of the Earthmen and the two Venusian Fazoqls convinced him that Peet was behind the attack. Then he too must be a prisoner of Peet. He was faintly surprised that he hadn't been killed.

He closed his eyes to shut out the absolute darkness which pressed in on him from all sides. With a touch of panic he considered the possibility that he might be blind. He shuddered, refusing to think about it, speculating on the fine collection of rogues which Albert Peet had gathered in support of his collapsing economic empire.

He was not surprised that the Latonka Czar had hired the Fazoqls. The caste of Venusian killers were active all over the Universe. Like the Greek mercenaries of ancient times, it was a respected profession on Venus. As long as Peet fulfilled his side of the contract, the Fazoqls would be loyal. But the Earthmen!

Earthmen gone bad were more feared than mad dogs and given a much wider berth. They were just as apt to destroy Albert Peet as his enemies. When he thought of Joan Webb being left to their tender care, he writhed mentally.

There was something fresh, likeable, wholesome about the girl. He made no melodramatic vows of revenge to himself should he discover that the girl had been harmed. Instead a coldness crept over his mind. He would, he knew, hunt them to the outermost ports of the Universe's far-flung frontiers.

His head was no better. He felt that a drink of Latonka would clear his mind. After a while he went back to sleep.

When he awoke he was very thirsty. He set about exploring his cell with his fingers, encountered a jug and a pan of food. They must have been placed there while he slept. He ate and drank. His head didn't ache so badly, his mind was clearer. He felt his chin. He thought he would like a bath and a shave.

He shifted position, leaned back against the wall, felt it give slightly beneath his weight. He scrambled around, feverishly ran his hand over the smooth blocks of stone. One of the blocks, he discovered, had been pushed back in the wall about an inch. He shoved outward against it. The stone receded further, leaving a hole scarcely large enough for his broad shoulders.

Jaro squeezed into the hole, wriggled forward, pushing the stone ahead of him. It ran in grooves. This was not the regular door he felt sure, but a secret entrance of whose existence he doubted that even his guards suspected. After about four feet, he felt himself clear of the wall. The stone came to a stop. He could push it no further. He had come through into a second chamber or passage, he didn't know which as still no glimmer of light relieved the intense darkness.

* * * * *

He stood, cracked his head against the ceiling. He recalled the small stature of the Mercurians, grinned ruefully.

He bethought himself of his captors' surprise when they discovered his escape, got back down on hands and knees, pushed the stone back into the exit. It came to a stop with a small click. The hole was plugged. He tried to move the stone. It was latched fast. He realized that the lock must not have been caught or else no amount of pressure would have moved that stone. Backing out into the passage behind the cells, he stood up again. He was free.

Stooping painfully he crept along the wall. He had taken five hundred and twenty-three steps when he stumbled up a stair. Recovering his balance, he climbed up sixteen steps which wound back on themselves, came out in another passage. This second corridor he judged ran directly above the one he had just left. There was still no light. With increasing confidence he began its exploration.

The first thing his groping fingers encountered was a narrow alcove inset in the wall. Like a blind man he passed his hand across the back wall of the alcove, felt a knob-like protuberance, pulled. A small stone plug came out, revealing a peep hole. A ray of light streamed through the aperture. He wasn't blind!

He put his eye to the peep hole, saw a large, delicately furnished room. In the center was a bed on a dais. Several luxurious chairs, fashioned like chaise lounges and upholstered in white fur, squatted invitingly about the floor. A deep-piled aquamarine carpet covered the cold stone blocks under foot. The walls were a solid mass of bas relief. The ancient sculptor had exhibited a robust sense of realism in his choice of subjects.

He felt about the walls, sure that there must be some means of ingress. His fingers discovered a second handle. He pulled. A section of the wall swung back.

For a moment he hesitated like a gray wolf coming into a clearing, then crossed the chamber to the door. Cautiously, he inched it open. A long corridor met his eyes. It was lighted like the chamber with the pale green globes of the Mercurians. Like the chamber too, it was deserted.

He stepped back in the room, drew the door shut, bolted it. With growing curiosity he set about examining his surroundings. If this belonged to Albert Peet's establishment, he surely did himself proud. He discovered a closet full of rich feminine apparel, then a second door leading through a mirror paneled dressing room into a bath with a sunken tub.

Jaro sighed. He stripped off his clothes, filled the tub, let himself into the warm water. Having bathed he searched a small built-in cabinet, found a hair remover used by the Mercurian women on their legs. It doubled for a razor quite successfully. He ran his hand over his chin, laughed, returned to the main chamber. Unlocking the door to the hall in order not to create suspicion, he retreated into the secret passage, shut the door, plugged the peep hole.

A dozen steps further along the corridor, he found a second alcove identical with the last. There was a corresponding peep hole. The room he looked into resembled the other except that its appointments differed. It too, was deserted. He thought everyone must be above celebrating the Festival. He wondered where he was. The last two chambers had held no clue.

A third alcove revealed a room similar to the others except that it was occupied. A pale Mercurian girl was asleep on the bed. Her black hair lay on her white shoulders like stains of ink. A broad band of green metal encircled one naked ankle.

Jaro drew in his breath sharply. A temple priestess, one of the ex-brides of Nemi. He was beneath the temple of the rain god. Albert Peet's men had not captured him after all. The thought induced a new chain of reasoning. He remembered the lights flashing out back in the grog shop. His thought at the time: "Mercurians." It dawned on him that Karfial Hodes' men must have rescued them from Peet's hired Mercenaries. But why? He put the plug back into place.

The following two chambers were empty. At first, he thought the next one was too. He was about to insert the plug when a girl entered from the dressing room. His lips formed an inaudible whistle. The girl was Joan Webb.

* * * * *

Jaro, observing Joan Webb through the peep hole, saw that her tawny brown eyes were strained, frightened, her shorts and blouse rumpled as if slept in. He wondered suddenly how much time had elapsed since the fight in the grog shop.

Joan turned and went back into the dressing room. Jaro, with a broad grin, found the handle, swung back the secret panel. He squeezed through the narrow aperture, drew shut the panel behind him.

Joan came back into the room.

He said: "Hail, fairest of all maidens. I am Nemi come for my bride."

Joan screamed, sprang back into the dressing room, peered at him wildly around the edge of the frame.

"You!" she said. She came out. "Where did you come from?"

Jaro bounced up and down on the edge of the bed. "How did you rate this?" he asked. "You should have seen my cell. You've been imprisoned in the lap of luxury."

Joan repeated, "Where did you come from?"

He waved his hand airily. "Out of the nowhere into the here."

She observed him dubiously, said, "Listen Nemi, if you can get in and out as you please, let's not loiter."

He grinned, led her to the secret entrance, pushed back the panel.

"Oh!" said Joan. "You almost had me believing that Nemi stuff."

"Come on." He squeezed through the exit, disappeared.

Joan hesitated, peering with alarm into the black hole. "The way I have to trust you!"

Jaro reached out a hand, pulled her through, pushed the panel in place. They were immediately in darkness so thick, so dense that they could feel it.

"Where are you?" said Joan, a panicky note in her voice.

"Here," Jaro laughed.

"Oh!" she ejaculated. "Really, Mr. Moynahan."

"What happened back in the grog shop?"

Joan hesitated, said, "It's all kind of foggy. I was simply petrified with fright. When the lights went out, someone grabbed me. I tried to cry out for you only someone had his hand over my mouth. I couldn't do anything but gurgle. They dragged me toward the back of the shop. I thought.... Well, never mind what I thought."

Jaro chuckled.

"It wasn't funny," said Joan, indignantly. "They hauled me down some stairs, into an alley. I saw then that they were Mercurians, and I wasn't so scared. They brought me here, and here I've been ever since. But I still don't understand how you found me."

He said, "There seems to be a regular network of these secret passages running through the walls. It was the merest accident that I stumbled into them. Where they lead, though, I don't know any more than you."

"What are we going to do?" she wanted to know.

"Find Karfial Hodes. I've a hunch that he's hidden here."

"I was afraid of that," she said in a plaintive tone.

Jaro found her hand, led her to the next alcove, applied his eye to the peep hole. The room, he saw, was identical with the one in which Joan had been imprisoned. On the bed lay the red-headed singer of _Mercury Sam's Garden_.

"The Red Witch," he whispered. "We're getting hot."

"Who's she?" said Joan. She pushed Jaro aside, put her eye to the peep hole. "Where _do_ you meet these people?" she asked.

Jaro said, "I'm going in and talk to her. Wait here."

"What?" cried Joan, "Leave me out in this dark hole? I should say not."

"All right," he replied. He glanced again through the peep hole. The woman was asleep. She lay on her side, her red hair turning the pillow to blood. She still had on the abbreviated costume she had been wearing on Mercury Sam's stage.

Jaro opened the panel, crawled into the room, Joan on his heels.

He went up to the bed, looked down at the sleeping woman. He thought she looked hollow cheeked, unhappy in her sleep; nothing like the flaming wanton who was known throughout the Universe as the Red Witch. He touched her shoulder.

She opened her eyes. They were a vivid green. Recognition swept her features.