Spider Desert

by Ernst Vlcek

  “How will you accomplish that?” asked Prontier, gesturing in a sign of resignation. “I don’t have anything I can use that Manos would consider to be a fair exchange for Azhira.”

  As I was about to answer him I heard a persistent cawing sound outside.

  Ice Claw exclaimed: “That’s Lay Manos’ bird beast—the one that’s supposed to bring Ardelo back!”

  Prontier cried out in despair, turning to Fratulon. “If the bird doesn’t bring Ardelo back, Manos will kill my daughter! Can you deny that?” He was shaking Fratulon’s shoulders by now. “What can we possibly do? Ardelo is dead! That bird will fly back alone and…”

  “No?” I interposed, decisively. “I’m going back in Ardelo’s place.”

  “That would be suicide, Atlan?” Sawbones retorted . “Manos would suspect a trap and he'd feed you to his carrion monsters.”

  “Not if he swallows the bait I’m going to dangle in front of him?” I answered. “I’m going to tell him factually that Ardelo is double dealing him, and I’ll also let him know we don’t trust him, so that’s why I’ve come to him with empty hands. He’ll have to accept that when I propose we select a neutral meeting place where Azhira can be exchanged for the treasure. What place would you suggest as a meeting point, Professor? It should be easy for Lay Manos to get to, and it should be one that’s familiar to other groups of treasure hunters. I’ll tell him that we’ll meet there at dawn to hand over the ransom. Actually, the rest of you will have to win over some other camp of men to our side in order to play them against Lay Manos at the right moment. If some of the others smell a treasure they’ll be ready to fight, so while the thieves are all busy bashing each other’s heads in you can be trying to free Azhira and me.

  “That sounds easier than it will be to actually accomplish,” cautioned Prontier.

  “Nevertheless it’s a good idea?” Fratulon argued and he added: “At any rate it’s the only way we can gain more time. The only thing I don’t like is that you’re offering yourself as a hostage to Lay Manos, Atlan. I…”

  Ice Claw interrupted him impatiently. “We can’t wait any longer or that bird’s going to fly back alone. So what meeting point are you suggesting, Professor?”

  Prontier hesitated and then said: “Marauthan’s main reception hall would be as suitable as any other place.”

  “Marauthan’s main hall it is!” exclaimed Ice Claw, and before anybody could stop him he dashed outside onto the platform.

  “Ice Claw!” I shouted after him, and I was about to chase him when I came to a sudden stop in the open doorway.

  The great carrion bird shot down at that instant, grasped the chretkor about the shoulders with its talons, and flew away with him.

  “See you at dawn!” yelled Ice Claw. Then the bird beast disappeared with him among the nightshadowed crumbling towers.

  I turned back into Prontier’s shelter, scolding aloud to myself. “That crazy chretkor—you never know when he’s going to try something on his own! One of these days, that stubborn, animated anatomy chart…”

  Fratulon tried to console me, clapping me on the shoulder. “There’s an advantage in Ice Claw’s going instead of you?” he said. “When we contact Komyal’s outfit I’ll need you as my assistant. Ice Claw wouldn’t be able to help me combat the epidemic.”

  Prontier was incredulous. “Do you mean to say you’re actually going to try to penetrate the stronghold of the Voolynesians? But what will happen to Azhira then?”

  “We’ve come out into the Spider Desert to bring medical help to some treasure hunters who are in an emergency situation?” Fratulon explained. “Whatever happens, these people need our help and I’m not going to leave them in the lurch, Professor. But we’ll also try to help Azhira. Maybe it’s even possible to combine the two efforts in one. Now show us that secret exit of yours so that we can get out of here.”

  Prontier shrugged dejectedly and led us into the rear part of the hideout. Between several bales of material he showed us a square declivity in the floor. The bottom of the inset area seemed to be composed of the same armourplate type material as the rest of the floor, but Prontier explained it to us.

  “This is not solid matter, but a projection of something that is deceptively similar. The generation of this matter projection is one of the secrets I was able to salvage out of my expedition into Zagooth.”

  “We’re familiar with this phenomenon,” said Fratulon. “So what is underneath here?”

  “There’s a shaft that leads almost in a straight descent through the outer wall to the base of the whole coneshaped structure?” answered Prontier.

  “Then there’s nothing left but to climb down through it?” Fratulon concluded.

  8/ THE DREADED TRAP

  Fratulon had his own background of explorations and hidden discoveries.

  During his 13 years on Gortavor he had made countless trips into unknown regions, and therefore he knew the planet like no one else. He was as much at home in the eternal snow fields and ice floes of the polar regions as he was in the steaming jungles of the equator. During his travels he had unravelled countless mysteries pertaining to the original inhabitants and had learned to use them to his advantage.

  However, all those lonely excursions into the wildernesses of Gortavor were not motivated by a lust for adventure, as he pretended to others. Rather, they had been for the sole purpose of making preparations in case that Atlan’s pursuers picked up his trail.

  However safe he and Atlan might appear to be in Tarkihl, he nevertheless had to be ready for the day when someone would come and tear the mask from his face.

  Fratulon was prepared for this. On Gortavor there were a thousand hiding places where he and Atlan could find refuge.

  But the Marauthanian ruins did not happen to be one of them…

  * * * *

  The shaft appeared to be endless. It plunged down along the flanged outer wall into the depths, apparently having served once as a ventilation channel. At even intervals, fist sized holes had been made through which one could get a good view of the outside, but they also served handily as handholds and toeholds. No one knew why Marauthan had created this ventilating system, and I myself had never heard of this kind of arrangement in one of the conical structures. It was probably a good guess that Marauthan’s architect had sought to obtain quality of air-conditioning for the living quarters of the building, by utilizing the increased draft that was created by this means.

  Such were my thoughts during our descent.

  Prontier had led the way, followed by Fratulon, and I brought up the rear. Prontier was armed with his energy weapon and I had also retrieved my hand beamer that Ardelo had appropriated from me, since he had dropped it during his precipitate reaction to the anaesthetizing gas. Fratulon contented himself with his beloved Skarg. I had taken over his instrument case from him inasmuch as he had enough difficulty in negotiating the narrow shaft without it.

  Finally I felt ground under my feet. Here the darkness was more complete than it had been inside the shaft. I groped along the wall until I came to a place that was dimly illuminated by starlight. Between several outcroppings of the ruins ahead of me I saw two phantomlike figures rise up. In my reaction I bumped into somebody, and at hand was clapped over my mouth.

  “Zagors!” whispered Fratulon close to my ear.

  Involuntarily I pulled out the beamer. Fratulon released his hand from my mouth and I crept closer to a low wall in front of me in order to have a clear view of the field of ruins before us.

  At first all I could discern was the heaps of rubble and the remains of fallen walls, but then I caught a movement there. A Zagor moved soundlessly in the shadow of a wall, and two others crept along on the other side of it. They were moving toward some objective which lay in a direction away from our hiding place. We found ourselves directly behind them.

  As Fratulon turned toward me I caught a winking reflection of Skarg in his hand, and he signalled me to put away the ray weapon. I placed it in
my belt and drew the sword that Lay Manos had furnished me.

  Suddenly I heard a sound that could not have been made by the Zagors. It was more like the furtive scraping of soled feet. Then the figure of a man appeared behind one of the walls. He carried a spear, and in his hand was a curved sword.

  In that moment he discovered the three Zagors and cried out in alarm as they charged upon him. It was also the signal for us to make our attack. Fratulon flew toward the four fighting figures with arms widespread for battle and there was a tangle and blur of bodies before me as I arrived. I ripped open the leg of a Zagor and knocked him out with the flat of my sword, but before I could pick out another opponent the fight was ended.

  Fratulon had taken care of the other two Zagors with his bare fists. Now he dragged the man out from under the two unconscious reptiles by the collar of his cloak.

  “Just take a look, Atlan—see what we’ve found here!” said Fratulon in feigned surprise. “What a coincidence, to run into an old acquaintance!”

  “Waccor!” I exclaimed in my astonishment.

  Prontier left his concealment and joined us. When he heard Waccor’s name he cried out, “Traitor!” He was about to attack him and I had to pull him back forcefully.

  Waccor gasped his relief at sight of us. “What luck that you showed up just now! Otherwise those beasts would have done to me the same as they did the other two.”

  “That would have been no loss in your case, you traitor!” cried Prontier, beside himself with rage.

  “Keep your voice down, Professor?” Fratulon admonished him. “Who knows how many Zagors may be running around loose?”

  “There aren’t any more of them here in the ruins?” Waccor said. “But outside of here it’s swarming with them. During daylight they’ve been digging into the sand and now they’re all coming out of their hiding places.

  “You were probably too yellow to risk yourself going through the desert, weren’t you?” said Fratulon scornfully. “Or are you still waiting around for that bosom buddy of yours, Ardelo?”

  Waccor shook his head. “I saw him take that fall from the hideout?” he said, with a shaky voice. “You really took him in with that jewel box. It’s his tough luck that he let himself be fooled by it. What difference does it make to me?” He shrugged. “I’m not that anxious to have the treasure.”

  “Oh yes?” Fratulon queried sarcastically. “So why are you still wandering around down here in this area? Would you by any chance be trying to figure how you can crack that stronghold?”

  Waccor’s answering laugh sounded somewhat hollow. “It was stupid of me to get mixed up with Ardelo, but I also realized that I could never go back to Prontier. So I was figuring what other outfit I could join up with. Since I wouldn’t be too welcome with Lay Manos, either, the only other choice seemed to be Komyal. I’ve always had good relationship with the Voolynesians.”

  “Aha!” Fratulon grunted knowingly. “So you wanted to win over the Voolynesians to the idea of helping you get the treasure from the Professor!”

  “What are you talking about, Sawbones?” retorted Waccor, irritated. “I only wanted to join up with them, that’s all. The treasure had nothing to do with it because I’ve forgotten about it.”

  “So? Then it looks as though you didn’t make it with Komyal’s group, and that’s why you’re back snooping around here.”

  Again, Waccor shook his head. “Komyal accepted me with open arms. He needs every sound man he can get, because some of his men are stricken by the plague. When I told him that you and your assistant were with Prontier, he sent me out right away to contact you. He says he sent out a distress call and that he needs your help, Sawbones! I was just now on my way to you with my two companions when the Zagors attacked us .

  “So Komyal was the one who sent out the call.” Fratulon seemed to deliberate on this. He looked Waccor straight in the eye when he asked: “Are you prepared to lead us to him?”

  “That’s why I’m here?” Waccor answered eagerly. “I’ll take you there. There’s even a bridge near here that leads to the ruins where Komyal is camped, so we can avoid the desert sands. I’ve no stomach for running into any more Zagors tonight. In fact it’s advisable for us to get out of this area.”

  Fratulon was still hesitant. “Waccor, you’re a born schemer?” he said, cautiously. “Maybe you’ve missed your calling—you might have gone far in the court of Orbanoshol III. You betrayed Prontier to Lay Manos and then went behind Manos’ back in your dealings with Ardelo, but now you’re offering your dubious loyalty to Komyal. How many masters do you actually still serve?”

  Waccor was surprisingly frank: “Basically, I’m working for number one—me…”

  “How is it you did not turn to Vafron, since you gave him a tip or two in the past?” persisted Fratulon.

  And once again Waccor was amazingly frank: “Vafron has joined forces with Komyal, Sawbones—or didn’t you know that?”

  * * * *

  Waccor climbed up through the ruins with an incredible agility. We were hard pressed to keep up with him especially the Professor, who was not accustomed to such physical exertion. He kept stopping to rest and catch his breath, so the rest of us were also forced to take a breather.

  “Hurry!” Waccor urged us. “Every minute can be a matter of life and death. If Komyal’s men don’t get help pretty soon, this plague is going to wipe them out!”

  Our way led almost entirely over fragmented outcroppings of masonry and through crumbling levels of the former main structure, some of which threatened to crash into further ruins at any time. We were still in the same building remains where the solitary pinnacle stood that supported Prontier’s stronghold, but we were now on the opposite side.

  When we reached the highest elevation in this particular area we came upon a suspension bridge that spanned a 100 meter gap to the next structural remains of a principal building. At its lowest arc the bridge almost reached down to the silvery strands of the web, which at this place extended itself between the two former coneshaped structures.

  “Komyal’s fort is over there?” said Waccor. “We’re almost there. We have to go real easy when we’re on the bridge. It mustn’t start swinging and it can’t be loaded too heavily, otherwise it will touch the net below. The best way is to spread out with plenty of distance between us so we can distribute the weight better.”

  Prontier came panting up to the platform that the bridge was anchored to. I had followed close behind him during the climb in order to help him. He turned to gaze upward for the last time toward his stronghold, which was clearly visible from our location and stood silhouetted darkly against the starry heavens.

  Waccor grinned at him. “Aren’t you afraid that during your absence somebody is going to steal your treasure, Professor?”

  As Prontier maintained a stubborn silence, Fratulon answered for him: “In his own mind the Professor gave up that fort a long time ago—ever since he realized he couldn’t trust his men. You can rest assured Waccor, that the treasure has been moved to safety.”

  I caught a gleam in Waccor’s eyes, but he refrained from asking any further questions on the subject. In the long run he wanted to give the impression that he had no further interest in the alleged treasure.

  “Wait till I give you the signal, Fratulon,” he said as he stepped out onto the bridge. “Then follow me.”

  When he had gotten far enough away, the Professor spoke to us in low tones. “Do you think you should reveal to him the meeting place we’ve indicated to Lay Manos?”

  “Leave that decision to me, Professor?” Fratulon answered softly.

  “You can move out now, Sawbones!” called Waccor. He was at a distance of about 15 meters from us, out on the bridge. “The rest of you follow at the same distance from each other.”

  Fratulon moved cautiously onto the bridge, which had already begun a gentle swaying motion. He tripped slightly on a loose plastic plate underfoot but was able to catch himself on the handrail rope.
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br />   “Hey!” yelled Waccor anxiously. “You’d better pay closer attention to where you’re walking, Sawbones!”

  Prontier then stepped onto the bridge and moved forward cautiously. I followed him at a distance of 15 meters. We made fairly good progress, as the bridge gyrated less than I had feared it would. When I was about in the centre of the bridge I saw that the silver strands of the net were only an arm’s length below. Waccor had reached the other side. I thought I could make out a signal from him in the darkness, and then he disappeared into a dark opening in the building wall. Shortly thereafter, Fratulon also disappeared inside.

  Suddenly, Prontier let out a cry and he made such a strenuous movement that the bridge began to shake. I saw him let go of the guide ropes to bring his energy weapon into play. He was firing at something below us. There was a light flash below, followed by the death cry of a Zagor. Against the starlit sands of the desert a shadowy group of moving figures was to be seen.

  I also brought out my beamer and fired into the file of Zagors under us. They were angling for the Professor with long, grappling hooks.

  “Don’t bother about the Zagors!” I called to him. “Just keep going. Just a little further up the bridge and you’ll be out of their reach!”

  But Prontier was no longer able to follow my advice. The swaying of the bridge caused him to lose his grip. He slipped down and only just managed to hold onto one of the heavy supporting cables. I ran to him but arrived too late. The barbed ends of the grappling poles had caught in the lower ends of his clothing, and the Zagors tugged so hard that Prontier’s resistance was overcome.

  He fell screaming through the net below and hit the soft sand, whereupon the Zagors immediately tossed him upward again. After three tries at it, they landed Prontier’s body on one of the armthick silvery strands of the web, where it remained.