“I’m sorry. For a moment I completely forgot where we are.”
Dale touched his shoulder. “It’s all right. I understand.”
“Listen, whoever they are, they’re intelligent,” said Zarkov. “I’m sure we can reason with them.”
Soon the elevator shaft was no longer transparent; they passed story after story of gray metal. As they did not know their destination, they had no indication how much longer it would take for them to reach it; but each second was interminable. They could not even hazard a guess as to how fast the elevator was traveling; it seemed to have altered its speed a few times.
The elevator slowly halted with a pneumatic hiss only slightly deeper than that of the vehicle. The doors opened. Awaiting them was a squad of soldiers clad in red lamellar and gold, standing five to a column on either side. The red-robed leader gestured for them to walk ahead. They had not walked twenty steps when a line of prisoners joined by chains running between heavy metal collars, guarded by more soldiers, entered that section of the hallway. Flash, Dale, and Zarkov stood stunned. The impatient proddings of the leader were unable to goad them forward.
For the prisoners, blindfolded and gagged (when possible), represented specimens they had never before conceived. There were five Mud Men; Zarkov suspected one was a woman, but he could not be sure. The features, distinguishing physical characteristics, even the sexual organs, were obscured by the glistening, bulky mud covering their bodies. The moisture preventing the mud from caking and breaking off was possibly secreted by glands, Zarkov theorized. However, they left little deposits of dirt behind them.
The Mud Men were truly disgusting dregs of humanity, that is, if they were human at all. But the deposits of dirt were not nearly as repulsive as the trails left behind by the shiny Slime People. Dale wrinkled her nose as they passed by. Their odor was so horrendous that an extremely potent skunk smelled as pleasant as a freshly picked rose in comparison. Their gags and blindfolds were tied tightly about their heads, lest the substance coating them cause the cloth to slip out of place. Dale felt a tremor of sickness in her abdomen when she spied a thin wire about the face helping keep a gag secure, a wire cutting into his cheek, causing a tremble of yellow pus to run down onto his neck. The Slime People wore white loincloths tied tightly about the hips; the cloths were drenched in the odorous substance manufactured by their bodies. Dale realized that Zarkov, being a scientist, was doubtlessly speculating upon their native environment, and she decided she did not want to know anything about a world which nurtured creatures such as these.
Behind the Slime People were hissing green Reptile Men with long, thick tails and crooked scaly arms held close to their yellow-green chests. They were not blindfolded and gagged due to logistics, for they possessed faces within their perpetually open jaws. Tiny eyes peered from the red flesh shielded by the two fangs hanging from the upper jaw. An inch below the eyes, thin forked tongues protruded from little mouths. Their scaly feet were unable to maintain traction upon the slime trails left by their predecessors.
When the prisoners turned a corner and were gone from sight (but not quite from smell), Zarkov said, “At least three different lines of evolutionary development there. I don’t see how that’s possible in a single environment.”
“The answer to that one’s no problem, Doctor,” said Flash. “My guess is: Once upon a time these moons developed independently of each other. By the time the civilizations came into contact, the lines of evolution had been clearly established.”
Zarkov beamed. “Why, my boy, that’s absolutely brilliant! A superb example of deductive reasoning!”
Flash lifted the right side of his mouth in a half smile. In his heightened state of awareness, even a compliment seemed
Dale touched his shoulder. “It’s all right. I understand.”
“Listen, whoever they are, they’re intelligent,” said Zarkov. “I’m sure we can reason with them.”
Soon the elevator shaft was no longer transparent; they passed story after story of gray metal. As they did not know their destination, they had no indication how much longer it would take for them to reach it; but each second was interminable. They could not even hazard a guess as to how fast the elevator was traveling; it seemed to have altered its speed a few times.
The elevator slowly halted with a pneumatic hiss only slightly deeper than that of the vehicle. The doors opened. Awaiting them was a squad of soldiers clad in red lamellar and gold, standing five to a column on either side. The red-robed leader gestured for them to walk ahead. They had not walked twenty steps when a line of prisoners joined by chains running between heavy metal collars, guarded by more soldiers, entered that section of the hallway. Flash, Dale, and Zarkov stood stunned. The impatient proddings of the leader were unable to goad them forward.
For the prisoners, blindfolded and gagged (when possible), represented specimens they had never before conceived. There were five Mud Men; Zarkov suspected one was a woman, but he could not be sure. The features, distinguishing physical characteristics, even the sexual organs, were obscured by the glistening, bulky mud covering their bodies. The moisture preventing the mud from caking and breaking off was possibly secreted by glands, Zarkov theorized. However, they left little deposits of dirt behind them.
The Mud Men were truly disgusting dregs of humanity, that is, if they were human at all. But the deposits of dirt were not nearly as repulsive as the trails left behind by the shiny Slime People. Dale wrinkled her nose as they passed by. Their odor was so horrendous that an extremely potent skunk smelled as pleasant as a freshly picked rose in comparison. Their gags and blindfolds were tied tightly about their heads, lest the substance coating them cause the cloth to slip out of place. Dale felt a tremor of sickness in her abdomen when she spied a thin wire about the face helping keep a gag secure, a wire cutting into his cheek, causing a tremble of yellow pus to run down onto his neck. The Slime People wore white loincloths tied tightly about the hips; the cloths were drenched in the odorous substance manufactured by their bodies. Dale realized that Zarkov, being a scientist, was doubtlessly speculating upon their native environment, and she decided she did not want to know anything about a world which nurtured creatures such as these.
Behind the Slime People were hissing green Reptile Men with long, thick tails and crooked scaly arms held close to their yellow-green chests. They were not blindfolded and gagged due to logistics, for they possessed faces within their perpetually open jaws. Tiny eyes peered from the red flesh shielded by the two fangs hanging from the upper jaw. An inch below the eyes, thin forked tongues protruded from little mouths. Their scaly feet were unable to maintain traction upon the slime trails left by their predecessors.
When the prisoners turned a corner and were gone from sight (but not quite from smell), Zarkov said, “At least three different lines of evolutionary development there. I don’t see how that’s possible in a single environment.”
“The answer to that one’s no problem, Doctor,” said Flash. “My guess is: Once upon a time these moons developed independently of each other. By the time the civilizations came into contact, the lines of evolution had been clearly established.”
Zarkov beamed. “Why, my boy, that’s absolutely brilliant! A superb example of deductive reasoning!”
Flash lifted the right side of his mouth in a half smile. In his heightened state of awareness, even a compliment seemed
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