Chapter V

Flanked by the two blue giants Cosmo followed his host down a long corridor, up a flight of steps and into a sumptuously furnished apartment. A yellow grass mat carpeted the floor from wall to wall. The furniture was covered with a coarse, woven fabric, barbaric in its color.

With a sigh, Bemmelman lowered himself into a lounge chair, indicated another for Cosmo.

"You're tired. You've had an uncomfortable journey. I won't keep you up long." He rang a bell.

With amazing promptness, a wizened Mercurian scurried through a sliding wall panel.

"Krudo juice," said Bemmelman; "cold. And sandwiches. Better bring a bottle of food concentrates, too."

The Mercurian disappeared.

Cosmo was staring at the bank of open windows. They gave onto a Venusian garden of grotesque beauty, each plant and shrub sparkling with a cold phosphorescence. Several insects, the huge, bird-like insects of Venus, winged in from the garden. As they reached the window, there was a sudden sparkle of flame. The insects dropped dead to the floor.

"An excellent warning," Bemmelman said in a silky voice. "The force screens, you know. Yes sir, not only do they discourage guests from straying; but they keep intruders outside."

Cosmo repressed a shiver. "Ingenious gadget."

"Gadget?" The red-faced planter threw back his head, laughed uproariously. "You're a droll rogue, you are. I like a man with a sense of humor." He rubbed his nose, then pointed to a picture above the sofa. "Recognize her, don't you?"

Cosmo saw a three dimensional photograph of a nude. Her skin was pale blue, flushed with healthy rose, her hair like molten gold.

"Sofi," Cosmo said with distaste. "The Blue Venus. I should think, Bemmelman, you'd have to wait rather long for your profits."

"So I do. So I do. But it's possible to harvest a yearly crop from a forest. Trees grow even slower than people. I'll show you the slave pens tomorrow. I've only the one Blue Venus, though. Unfortunately the rest have been males."

Cosmo wondered why the planter had called attention to the Blue Venus. He suspected that Bemmelman was subtly trying to find out if he had learned anything from Sofi.

"What do you do with the males?" he asked, prompted by something in Bemmelman's voice.

"They're interesting, but they've no market value. I have them destroyed."

Cosmo bit his lip. Bemmelman was a monster. He wondered what the sealed chambers held, the chambers where his spy Penang-ihtok had never been able to penetrate.

"I suppose," said the planter unexpectedly; "you're curious about what I wanted with you?"

Cosmo nodded.

"Well sir, I could have had you killed back in the caves of the Cloud Mountains. I've had a spy among your men for some time." He paused as the Mercurian returned, deposited a tray between them. It held a silver pitcher of krudo juice, thin sandwiches, a bottle of food concentrates.

"Go ahead," said Cosmo when the Mercurian had departed. He popped two of the pills into his mouth.

"Where was I? Oh yes. I could have had you assassinated several times, but you've some information I want?"

Cosmo's green eyes narrowed warily. "What information?"

The planter leaned forward, tapped him on the knee. "That bird. The Giant Ormoo. Oh yes, I know how you escaped from the roof last night. Yes sir, and very neat, too." He beamed amiably. "I want to know where the Ormoos feed."

Cosmo sat back in surprise.

"Why?"

"That's my secret," said the beefy planter. "Yes sir, that's my secret. But I'm a business man, Cosmo. Show me where the Ormoo feeds, and I'll make it worth your while."

"Five thousand monad," Cosmo hazarded.

Bemmelman didn't blink an eye. "Five thousand monad," he agreed.

* * * * *

Cosmo sat back, his face blank. The planter, he realized, had no more idea of paying him five thousand monad than he had of adopting him. He'd agreed to the preposterous sum too readily. Cosmo's green eyes hardened.

"And suppose I refuse."

"But you won't. You can't. No sir. If you refused, I'll be forced to kill you and trace the bird myself."

"The devil you will." Cosmo could feel sweat starting from his forehead. "That bird's savage as a tiger. You've already tried to trace it to its feeding ground, haven't you? That's why you planted a spy among my men, wasn't it?"

"Yes sir," Bemmelman admitted with a sigh. "I don't mind telling you he was supposed to find out what and where the bird ate. But it damn near tore him to pieces."

Cosmo didn't say anything.

Bemmelman leaned forward, tapped his knee again. "Unfortunately, the birds are rare as the dodo. I've spent quite a bit of money trying to locate another. The only one that's been caught is in the Solar Apiary on Earth."

Mention of the Ormoo in the Solar Apiary stirred Cosmo's memory. He stared at Bemmelman with narrowed eyes. The Ormoo in its wild state matured to its full size in a few months. The one which the Terran expedition had secured, hadn't reached adulthood until its nineteenth year. The discrepancy had been puzzling ornithologists ever since. Theories had flooded the scientific journals, but to date, no one had explained satisfactorily why a wild Ormoo should mature over twenty times as fast as the same bird in captivity.

"Well?" Bemmelman rubbed his nose, his eyelids drooping.

"If I show you where the Ormoo feeds, what guarantee have I that you'll carry out your side of the bargain?"

"Just my word," said Bemmelman with a chuckle. "Just my word."

Two rouge-like spots sprang out on Cosmo's cheek bones. He came halfway erect in his chair.

"No violence, please." The planter held up his hand. "Look behind you."

Cosmo turned his head. The two Jovian primitives were crouched to spring. He sank back in his chair, managed a tight grin. His lips felt dry, his stomach hollow.

"I don't think you appreciate your position, Cosmo," said the planter silkily. "No sir, I don't." He heaved himself from his chair with a grunt. "I've something to show you. Come with me."

The two Jovian Dawn Men fell in beside Cosmo again as he trailed the planter down three steps, along a short corridor to a sunken court. Bemmelman paused, pointed to a huge wooden cross in the center of the court.

"You weren't depending on him, were you," he smirked.

Cosmo felt his blood run cold. His fists clenched until the nails bit into the flesh.

The body of Penang-ihtok hung from the cross. The outcast Fozoql had been crucified upside down.

"You see," said Bemmelman, his voice heavy with assurance; "how futile it is to oppose me."

Cosmo turned away from the cross with its grisly burden. He looked coldly, speculatively at Bemmelman's beefy smiling face. At the look, fright glimmered in the planter's eyes. He made a quick gesture to the Jovians who seized Cosmo by either arm.

"Take him away," he ordered. "We'll talk it over tomorrow."

Cosmo was conducted into a plainly, but comfortably furnished room. One of the blue giants immediately stretched himself on the sofa and went to sleep. The other, though, took a stance by the door, folded his arms, regarded Cosmo with the unwinking stare of an idol. Obviously, the Jovian primitives intended to spell each other.

With a grunt of annoyance, Cosmo retreated into the bathroom. He had grossly underestimated Bemmelman, he realized with chagrin. A malignant genius, the slave breeder had no more scruples than his Dawn Men.

Cosmo heard a soft step behind him, whirled around. His Jovian guard was standing placidly just within the door.

"Damn," he snapped, nerves jangling. "I'm not going to crawl out the drain."

The blue giant never changed expression by so much as a flicker.

Cosmo got a grip on himself, shot the giant his flashing grin. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

He stripped off coat and trousers, hung them carefully over the Jovian's shoulder, stepped under the shower.

Considerably refreshed, he returned to his sleeping chamber, crawled raw into the huge bed. But sleep escaped him. That stark cross, the body illuminated by the radiations of the lichens and mosses, persisted in thrusting itself before his eyes. He clenched his fists, trembled in an agony of impotent fury. Somehow, he'd trip up Bemmelman, smash his disgusting racket.

* * * * *

Cosmo awakened in the huge bed, sweating with terror. The echo of some nameless horror still rang in his ears. He saw the Dawn Man, motionless as a statue, watching him with animal patience. Then he heard it again.

It was a girl's scream. It reached him faintly. It went on and on. He leaped out of bed, tugged on his trousers.

The Dawn Man sprang across the room to intercept him. Cosmo seized a metal chair, swung it with the same movement. It caught the blue giant on his head and shoulders. The blow would have felled an ox. The Jovian folded onto the carpet, lay still. Cosmo thought he must be dead.

The second Jovian primitive jumped from the sofa at the crash. He had awakened like an animal. With a low snarl, he leaped for Cosmo.

Cosmo ducked under his first rush, crashed the chair down on the back of his head. The giant staggered groggily, but didn't go down.

Cosmo measured the distance, walloped him again. The second blue giant went over like a falling tree.

Without stopping for coat or shoes, Cosmo hurtled into the hall. The screaming had been silenced. The building was quiet as a deserted church.

He set out at a lope in the direction of the tower where Mia was confined. That had been Mia screaming, he was sure. He'd recognized the timbre of her voice.

His heart thudding, he reached a stair, took the steps two at a time. It bent sharply to the left, went up another flight. He must be in the tower itself. The silence was oppressive. He wished fervently he had a dart gun, a ray projector, anything that would serve as a weapon. The steps continued to wind upward.

Gasping for breath, he reached the fifth level. From beneath a door seeped a crack of light. He sniffed. A peculiar odor impinged on his nostrils. Then he heard Bemmelman's rough voice like the rasp of iron.

"That's done. Take her to the slave pens."

Cosmo's heart contracted. A blinding rage swept him. He'd been too late.

He rammed the door with his shoulder. It burst open as if exploded. For a second he was poised in the doorway, big, rangy, naked to the waist, his hands hooked like claws, his nostrils distended.

Without a word, he leaped on Bemmelman.

The planter was standing beside an operating table upon which Mia MacIver was strapped. He fell back a step, raised his arm in a gesture of defense.

Cosmo's rush bowled him over backward. He tried to scramble to his feet, but Cosmo was on him like a cat on a mouse. Time after time, he drove his fist into the planter's face. A blinding rage shook him to the marrow.

As if from a distance, he heard Mia scream again.

"Cosmo! Look out behind you!"

He swung off the insensible Bemmelman, twisted to his feet. He saw Llana, the Terran slave girl, directly behind him. Her arm was upraised, her fist clutching a needle like dagger. With a sob, she plunged it downward toward his heaving chest.

Cosmo caught her wrist in a grip of iron, tore the dagger from her fingers. Contemptuously, he tossed the girl into a corner of the room, turned to Mia.

"Mia, are you all right?"

She gave a sob of relief. "Yes, yes! But get me out of this iron lung before I pass out."

He fumbled hastily at the clamps. Her hair was tumbled. One shoulder of her tattered yellow tunic had been torn down to her stomach. He paused suddenly, his eyes dilating.

There was an angry red scar above Mia's left breast. He realized what the smell on the landing outside the tower room had been. It was the odor of burning flesh.

Mia MacIver had been branded!