Chapter V

During the ensuing days Norman Saint Clair became acquainted with the other members of Koal's squad. There were nine. Two were Martians, one a Venusian, the rest Earthmen. All of them had been captured by the Dohlmites and had chosen piracy to slavery.

While yet a day from Neptune, everyone began feverishly to pack their gear in anticipation of the landing. Word was circulated when they were passing through the crust. Norman and Koal hurried to the corridor before the port, found it jammed with men. The huge ship settled with a slight jar. They had landed.

"Home," said Koal.

With a jolt Norman realized that this was home for him, too. The massive entrance slid aside. The men poured out. Caught in the stream, he and Koal were carried to the runway and down to the floor of the spaceport. He looked around curiously.

The road led between two empty troughs. At least he thought they were empty, until he realized he couldn't see beyond them. Invisible ships lay in the troughs. Overhead a large pinkish sun flamed unnaturally.

"Come along," urged Koal. "You've the rest of your life for sight seeing." He led Norman outside the yards to a massive building.

"What's this?" asked the young man as they passed through the doors.

"Emigration. Here's where you'll be assigned living quarters."

A Mercurian ensconced behind a grill like a bank teller took his name and ship, handed him a slip of paper. On it was printed F12-D234. He looked at it blankly.

The Martian laughed, explained: "F12 is the building. Everyone from the _Rocket_ lodges in the same building. D is the floor, two-thirty-four your apartment number."

"Oh."

The Martian laughed again, said "Come along. You'll get the hang of things soon enough."

They returned to the street, entered a many storied garage. Here Norman saw hundreds of surface cars parked row upon row. A ramp led up to the next level.

"This is where our cars are stored while we're on a voyage. We aren't allowed flying vehicles. Only the Dohlmites can use them."

The Martian went to one of the cars, held open the door. "You'll want to buy one of these as soon as we're paid. The slaves manufacture them very cheaply."

Climbing in beside Norman, Koal pressed a button. The diminutive atomic motor burst into life. They rolled out onto the streets of Behrl.

"When will they auction off the prisoners?" asked Norman as the Martian guided the surface car through the traffic.

"Not for a day or so. You'll be notified. This is the manufacturing district."

One factory after another flowed past. Off to their left Norman observed a hill towering above the rest of the city. Its slopes were covered with balconied buildings rank with trees and flowers and shrubs like the fabled hanging gardens of Babylon.

"What's that?" He nudged the Martian.

"That's where the Dohlmites live. Whatever you do, don't go near that quarter of the city. A force wall surrounds it which is instant death if you come in contact with it. Their laboratories, the control station, the death machine, our wave length cylinders are all there."

In a few moments they had passed through the factory area and into a district of shops, restaurants, amusement centers.

"Who operates these?" he asked.

"Slaves. The profits go to the Dohlmites. Everything returns to their pockets."

The streets were crowded with people: barefooted women in short gay colored tunics, men in loose coveralls.

"Slaves," explained Koal.

The vastness of the plant men's enterprise became apparent as they sped through the streets.

"Koal," said Norman a little frightened. "When is it going to stop?"

The Martian looked at him grimly, "With the fall of the Empire," he replied bitterly. "With the enslavement of Mars and Venus and Earth. The Dohlmites are only a handful, but they plan to lop off the Empire colony by colony, enslaving the inhabitants just as they have us. Their ultimate goal is to have the individual wave recording of every human in the Universe. An Empire of slaves."

"Impossible!" he ejaculated.

"Why? The element of time is of no importance with them. Every ship they capture gives them more power, more slaves. It gathers force like a snowball rolling down hill. Before long, nothing can stop them."

* * * * *

Norman slumped back in his seat. What the Martian said was true. Unless the Dohlmites were stopped soon, they would be so strong that nothing in the Universe could halt their march to Empire.

"Is there a library in Behrl?" he asked the Martian suddenly.

"Yes," replied Koal in surprise. "A very fine one in fact, but no one uses it."

Norman's next question seemed irrelevant.

"Would the humans revolt if they thought there might be a slim chance of success?"

"Who would be a slave by choice?" grunted Koal angrily. "They'd rise as one man at the faintest sort of a chance and at no chance at all." For a moment, he glared straight down the street, then relaxed, glanced at Norman seriously.

"Look," he said in a quiet voice that was somehow more impressive. "Do you realize how hungry I am for the dry chill air of Mars. How hungry all these exiles are for their home planets? You don't think we've submitted meekly to the Dohlmites, do you? There have been mutinies and rebellions a dozen times since I've been here. And everytime the rebels have dropped dead on the streets, at their guns, in their beds. All of them. I tell you its impossible."

"Nevertheless," said Norman, "you've told me what I wanted to know."

The shops were behind them, many storied apartment dwellings having taken their place. With a grunt; the Martian swung the car down an incline leading to the basement under one of the buildings.

"This is F Twelve," he said, halted the car just inside the gate while a guard inspected their papers, waved them on.

"For our own protection." Koal nodded toward the guard as he parked the car. "No one but members of our clan and their households can enter this apartment building."

They crossed the basement parking area to a lift. Koal pressed a button. The car descended; the doors opened. He motioned Norman inside.

"Hello, Alicia," Koal greeted the operator, a girl in a short green tunic gathered in at her slim waist by a belt. He chucked her under the chin. "Glad to see me back?"

She was from Earth, Norman realized. She was barefooted and around her ankle was the metal band of the slave.

She said, "Did you bring me anything?"

He snapped his fingers. "How could I have forgotten?" but his grin belied his words.

The girl cried, "What did you bring me, Koal? Where is it?"

"Not so fast," he admonished. "You haven't met Saint Clair yet. He's a new recruit."

The girl turned brown eyes on Norman, saw his crisp blond hair and likeable features, his broad shoulders and flat hips. "Um, um," she said, "I know. You've brought me him."

Norman flushed hotly. The Martian laughed, reached in his pocket, pulled out a pair of earrings set with magnificent Venusian pearls. Norman recollected seeing them grace the ears of a Terranean dowager aboard the _Jupiter_.

Alicia squealed with delight, hastened to attach the earrings. She shot the lift upward jubilantly.

At D deck they left the car. Alicia looked at Norman.

"If you're lonesome tonight, I'm off duty at Seventeen-hundred." Before he could answer the doors slid shut.

"What did you do to her?" growled Koal. "I bring the earrings and she propositions you."

Norman grinned, preened himself. Alicia, he decided, was a remarkably pretty girl, intelligent, too.

"Here's your apartment," Koal interrupted his thoughts. They had stopped before a door which bore the numeral 234 in brass. "I'm two-forty-eight. If you want anything, step down the hall and knock." He started off, paused. "Meals are served three times a day in the dining room on A deck, or you can prepare your own food in your rooms. I think you'll find everything necessary in the kitchen. If not, call the steward."

Norman went inside, glanced around curiously. An entrance hall led him into a sumptuous living-room. A compact kitchen, which did everything mechanically but digest your food, opened from a dinette. Behind the front rooms lay three spacious bedrooms, which gave onto a balcony. He opened the glass doors, passed out into the sunshine.

Building number F12 was on the outskirts of Behrl, and a jungle of riotous vegetation met his eye. The horizon curved up like a bowl before disappearing in rosy mists.

Here on the inside of Neptune the sun always hung straight overhead. A land of high noon, he thought. The sun beat down on his head. He wondered what kind of phenomenon it was, possibly a ball of liquid fire slowly burning itself out. The resultant high percentage of carbon dioxide in the air might account for the evolution of plants into reasoning creatures rather than mammals.

He returned to the kitchen. The cabinets were stocked with food and he prepared a cold lunch, ate it hungrily. A feeling of contentment stole over him.

He returned to the bedrooms, chose the largest one, stripped and showered and flung himself into the bed. He was immediately asleep.