Flash Gordon 2 - The Plague of Sound by Alex Raymond

should still be his dinner and rest time.”
    “You know that and I know that, but I’m wondering does this Marek dude know that.”
    The corridor they were traveling along ended. A series of ramps supported on beams crisscrossed the huge three-story-high room which lay before them.
    “From the few thought hints Tad was able to pick up,” said Flash, “Pan’s got his newer equipment in that section over there. That agrees with Sawtel’s speculations.” He nodded his head at an orange ramp which led to a doorway high up on the far wall.
    “So let’s us truck on over there and see if we can bluff our way in for a look-see.”
    They were halfway across the orange ramp, about a hundred feet above the floor, when a plump green man stepped through a doorway and onto a ramp which connected with theirs. Flip noticed him first and coughed into his hand.
    “We got some trouble,” he whispered to Flash.
    It was the real Marek coming straight toward them. He stopped, crying out, “What’s the meaning of this?” and pointing a green finger at Flip.
    “Must be one of those funny coincidences we’re always reading about,” said Flip.
    The chief technician was obviously puzzled. But he realized something was wrong, something strange. From a pocket of his white smock, he pulled a small gold whistle. He thrust it between his green lips, blew into it.
    Neither Flash nor his companion heard anything. The slaves, though, obviously did. Doors started to open all through the huge building. Slaves, carrying stunguns and blasters, came running out onto the colored ramps.
    “Got me a notion,” said Flip. “I’ll dig you later.” He left Flash’s side, ran to the edge of their ramp, and leaped over.
    Before Flash could take a step after him, a half-dozen slaves had reached him. Flash pivoted to face them. His foot snapped out and kicked the stunpistol out of the first man’s hand. He walked into him, punching hard. The slave groaned and dropped to his knees.
    Flash went after the next man. He got in two short jabs to the man’s ribs.
    Another half-dozen slaves were coming at him from the other direction.
    Two of the heaviest slaves jumped on him at the same instant. Another brought his gun barrel down on Flash’s head.
    Flash went down under the blow. The weight of the two slaves pinned him to the smooth surface of the ramp. He managed to bring up his knees and pinwheel out of their grasp.
    At the edge of the ramp, three more slaves leaped for him.
    Suddenly there was nothing underfoot. All four of them, tangled and struggling, were in midair beyond the edge. Flash twisted, striking out sharply with his elbow, as he fell. He managed to get himself on top of the heap when they hit the next ramp some fifteen feet below. Kicking, he jumped free and began to run.
    But more of them were running for him from both directions on this new ramp.
    He went over the edge of this one voluntarily.
    He landed on the sky-blue ramp, ten feet further down. Inside his head he was going over the map Sawtel had drawn for him. There should be an emergency exit two ramps over from where he was. The trick was to get there.
    At least fifty slaves were involved in the chase, more appearing every minute. None of them spoke or cried out. There was too much silence in their determined pursuit of him.
    “Now if—” began Flash. He was stopped stiff where he stood, three good paces from the edge of the ramp.
    One of them had used his stunpistol. Nearly a dozen of the slaves piled on Flash before he realized what had happened.

CHAPTER 26
    L etting his hands fall slowly to his sides, Zarkov turned around, “I’m slipping,” he said. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
    “I was already here.” The thin green hand of General Yate held a blaster pistol aimed at him.
    “Funny I didn’t notice you.”
    “I was lying on that far table,” said the green general. “You, no doubt, mistook me for an android.” He smiled briefly. “I couldn’t resist