Chapter VI

Cosmo said, "Mia, Mia," and gathered her to him. "What have they done to you?"

Llana scurried past like a frightened rabbit.

"She's getting away!" Mia cried. "She'll rouse the house!"

"Never mind." Cosmo could hear her clatter down the stair. "We've got a hostage." He gave Mia a wry grin, added, "that is, if I haven't killed Bemmelman."

Mia shivered, leaned against him. He glanced down, saw she was regarding him strangely. With a dry sob she buried her head on his shoulder.

"Cosmo, Cosmo, don't ever leave me again." Her voice was almost lost. "Take me with you--into the mountains."

He frowned, said: "You crazy kid. You don't know what you're saying. I'm an outlaw. There's no way to prove Bemmelman murdered my father and mother. And even if there was, that wouldn't clear me. Every crime the Security Patrol hasn't been able to solve has been laid at my doorstep."

"We could run away. We could go to Ganymede."

He shook his head. "It wouldn't make any difference. As long as the Renegade is alive they'll hunt. They'd trail me, extradite me."

"I don't care. I don't care. At least--"

The brazen clamor of the alarm bells shrilled suddenly in their ears.

Cosmo tore himself away, knelt beside the unconscious planter. He drew a dart gun from Bemmelman's pocket, said: "He's alive."

"What are we going to do, Cosmo?"

With a grunt, he hoisted the slack body over his shoulder. The alarm bells were pealing louder.

"I saw a telo-antenna on the roof of the tower when we were in the court. I've a hunch the telo-projector is somewhere above us."

Mia MacIver, clutching the tunic about her shoulder, asked: "But can't we run for it?"

"Not while the force screen is operating."

Bent under his heavy burden, Cosmo strode from the room, up the steps to the next level. Saying, "What's this?" he pressed the button of a sliding panel. The door slid back in its oiled grooves. "Whew!" he said. "My lady's chamber."

Mia MacIver peered around him wide-eyed.

It was a large room, octagon shaped and carpeted wall to wall with the shaggy gray fur of the Polar Aard. But the most startling feature was the mirrors. The walls were paneled solid in mirrors. It gave the impression that the room stretched on forever.

"Well!" said Mia; "if this is the telecast operator's room, he's a voluptuous creature!"

Cosmo snorted, stepped across the threshold. At once replicas of themselves flashed in all the mirrored chambers.

"I feel wicked just being in a room like this," said Mia.

Cosmo heard a click behind him, whirled around. The door through which they'd just passed was shut. In every direction, they were faced by an endless vista of mirrored chambers.

Mia gasped. "I'm scared," she said.

"Who isn't?" said Cosmo shortly and dropped Bemmelman to the floor with a thud. "What are you staring at?" He whipped around again.

A second door in the mirrors stood ajar. Framed in the entrance was a magnificently beautiful girl in skimpy shorts and bra. She was the twin of the photograph below stairs.

"Well, if it isn't my old friend, Sofi," said Cosmo without enthusiasm.

There was no recognition in the Blue Venus' violet eyes. Her flawless pale-blue features revealed neither shock nor surprise.

"That's Bemmelman." She indicated the planter. "Is he dead?"

"No. Only unconscious."

"Oh. That's too bad," she said in a calm manner, and swept up to the prostrate slave breeder, planted a kick in the seat of his pants. "There! I've never had the nerve to do that when he was conscious."

Mia gasped.

Cosmo said sharply: "Where's the telecast room?"

"The next floor. But you can't escape. Nobody ever escapes from this house."

* * * * *

Bemmelman stirred, opened his eyes, sat up groggily. His face was puffy, swollen. Blood had dried on his chin. He didn't say anything.

The clatter of many feet resounded on the stair outside the boudoir. Mia clutched Cosmo's arm, said: "They're coming!"

Cosmo took the dart gun from his pocket, narrowed his green eyes. "You go first, Bemmelman, if they rush us. Understand?"

The slave breeder glared at Cosmo, moistened his battered lips. "What do you want me to do?" He spoke with difficulty.

"Clear the tower. Order everyone into the rest of the house."

Bemmelman nodded sullenly.

Cosmo saw one of the mirrors shiver violently. Then the panel slid back. The stair was jammed with naked blue Jovians and Venusian serfs. The slave girl, Llana, was in the forefront. She pointed at Cosmo, screamed: "There they are!"

The Jovians started to surge through the narrow door.

Cosmo drew a bead on Bemmelman's thick neck, smiled grimly.

Blood drained out of the planter's face. "Get out!" he cried in panic.

The rescuers halted, stared stupidly. The ones in the rear continued to push forward causing momentary confusion.

"Get out!" Bemmelman raged. "Get out, you fools! D'you want to get me killed? Clear the tower!"

They began to withdraw sullenly.

Cosmo stepped after them, slid shut the panel. He could hear their footsteps retreating down the stair. He let his breath escape through his teeth.

"Keep your eye on the Blue Venus, Mia. She's a shifty wench."

Mia seized a candlestick from a dainty Martian table, said, "This isn't going to hurt me half as bad as it will you," to Sofi.

Cosmo dug the dart gun into Bemmelman's kidneys. "Let's go up to the telecast room." He pushed the planter ahead of him through the door.

The stair well was deserted, silent.

"I smell roses," said Mia.

Cosmo thought he detected a glint of triumph in the slave breeder's eyes. "Up the steps," he said grimly. "At the first sign of treachery, Bemmelman, I'm pulling the trigger."

They reached the telecast room without opposition. It was a small square chamber banked with control panels. An opaque screen was built into the left wall. There was only one chair.

Cosmo closed the door, motioned Mia and the Blue Venus to one side. "Now, Bemmelman, call your head overseer; have him shut down the force screens."

The red-faced planter laughed shortly, said: "No sir." He had regained his composure. "No sir, you won't kill me. You'd be throwing away your only chance to stay alive. The force screen stays up."

"That's what I thought you'd say." Cosmo slipped the dart gun in his pocket. His eyes became hard green stones. "What about the Ormoo's feeding ground? Why do you want to know where they eat?"

"That's my secret." A sullen note crept into Bemmelman's manner.

"You don't want me to mess you up, do you, Bemmelman?" Cosmo asked softly.

The planter flinched, but didn't answer.

Cosmo knocked him sprawling against the wall. He heard Mia gasp. He said evenly: "What about the Ormoo?"

Bemmelman tasted the blood in his mouth, said: "You'll never leave here alive, Cosmo. You won't be able to carry tales.... Now wait a moment! There's a plant the birds eat that contains a drug...." He paused.

Cosmo's eyes narrowed. He had the impression that the planter was listening, waiting for something to happen. He said, "Go ahead."

"The drug accelerates maturity. It acts directly through the glands."

"How did you hit on the discovery?" A feeling of revulsion made Cosmo's hands tremble, but his features were inscrutable.

Bemmelman chuckled amiably. "This information won't do you a bit of good," he said. "No sir, not a bit."

"Go ahead."

Bemmelman shrugged. "Well sir, I've been curious about how much longer it takes for an Ormoo in captivity to mature than the wild bird. The wild Ormoo, you know, reaches its full growth in less than a year. That's an amazing phenomenon when you consider its size. Yes sir...." He paused again, mouth open, then hastily went on: "Yes sir. I wondered if it wasn't the wild birds' diet. I sent a man into the Cloud Mountains to locate an Ormoo. He found your bird's nest."

Cosmo's green eyes were opaque. Revulsion for the slave breeder welled in his throat.

* * * * *

Bemmelman's manner was derisive. He rubbed his nose, said: "One day my man found a shrub in the nest. He sent it to me on the chance that it might be what I was looking for. It was. The leaves contain a drug, which, when injected into the bloodstream, accelerates maturity at an unbelievable rate." His lids drew down. "I injected it into one of the slave children in minute doses every twenty days. The child reached adolescence in eighteen months. In two years' time, she was full grown."

"You can breed slaves like guinea pigs now, eh Bemmelman?" Cosmo's voice was low. "And in two years' time have them ready for the market."

Bemmelman said, "Certainly," and paused.

"What are you listening for?" Cosmo asked suddenly.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." His little eyes darted about the room. "Unfortunately," he went on hurriedly, "I used up all the drug on the experiment, and I haven't been able to locate any more of the plants. No sir, we've scoured the Cloud Mountains. They're difficult to explore. Infra red rays help some, but not much."

"Who's the spy you planted among my men?" Cosmo interrupted in a cold voice.

Bemmelman shut his mouth with a snap.

"Who is he? Tell me, Bemmelman, or by heavens, I'll work you over until your own mother couldn't recognize you."

Still the planter didn't reply.

Cosmo hit him in the mouth. The planter's head struck the wall. He slid down to the floor, said groggily: "It doesn't matter. No sir. I won't need him any more. He's a Martian. His name's Natal."

Cosmo wasn't surprised. They'd found the Martian wandering apparently lost in the mountains. A sly fellow, always curious, always prying.

Cosmo turned to the telecast. He felt Mia's horrified eyes on him; the child-like stare of the Blue Venus. He switched on the telecast, signaled his headquarters in the Cloud Mountains. At the third attempt, he got through.

To his surprise, the inscrutable mien of the Mercurian runaway flashed on the visoscreen. His amber eyes twinkled, a smile split his Buddha-like face, and he bowed three times until Cosmo could only see the top of his head.

"I see you got through all right," said Cosmo dryly. A faint hiss seemed to be coming through the audio. He tried to tune it out, but the hiss persisted.

"Yes," said the Mercurian. "Delightful fellows. But blood-thirsty. You should hear the tales they've been telling." He shuddered.

"I've heard them," Cosmo interrupted. "Often. Where's Big Unse?"

"Playing truk with the men. I'm on duty at the telecast."

Cosmo frowned. The hissing noise was louder. He said: "I haven't time for you to call him. I'm at the Bemmelman plantation. I'm holding Bemmelman himself as a hostage. Tell Big Unse to bring the Ormoo. You follow in the surface plane with the men. Don't land. Hang in the clouds above the plantation until I whistle for the Ormoo. Oh yes. Be sure that Natal, the Martian, comes along. Got it?"

"Yes."

Cosmo flipped off the telecast, frowned. The hissing had not stopped. There was the faintest smell of roses in the air. He felt suddenly dizzy. Mia gave a small cry and crumpled to the floor.

"Paralysis gas!" he thought and wheeled toward Bemmelman, almost lost his balance as he did so.

The planter's head had dropped on his chest. He raised it groggily, leered with triumph at Cosmo. "Concealed tubes," he muttered. "Every room."

Cosmo swayed. He fumbled at his pocket. His hand emerged with the dart gun. He strained to elevate the gun, send a poisoned needle into the slave breeder. His muscles refused to obey him. The gun sagged. His knees sagged. Then slowly, he toppled sideways.