the throne.
'Oh, I say, do rise, enough of that protocol and poppycock. Welcome to our fair planet, and what is this I hear about an invincible weapon you have?' He leaned forward and rubbed two great claws together with a rasping sound.
'It's not exactly a weapon,' Jerry explained in detail.
'It's really a spaceship drive that can be used as a weapon, like I did with those Hagg-Loos ships. I used the space drive to transport them to the surface of your sun.'
'Utterly charming, do go on.'
'That's about all there is to it. Except we only have the one cheddite projector, and there is a second one, but the Lortonoi stole it and escaped here, and that is why we followed them to try and get it back, and our friend Chuck as well, whom they kidnapped at the same time.'
'The Lortonoi have this weapon!' the king gasped and, at the same time, inadvertently closed his claw and snipped in half a six-inch steel bar with which he had been toying. 'That could be messy. Lord Prrsi, you know our spy, what's-his-name, charming fellow but of course too pale. Get him on the secret wavelength and find out if he knows anything about all this.' Lord Prrsi clacked his claws in salute and scuttled out.
'This spy is a most amusing person,' the king said bemusedly as he snipped the steel rod into tiny chunks.
'Born an albino, freak of nature and all that, dreadfully hard on his family. But he went to a good school and learned to fight quite well with all the sneers about color and such. Then someone had the delightful idea of surgically implanting an eternium metal case around his brain to shield it from radiation and shipping him off to Haggis as a spy. Worked like a charm. The sodding Hagg-Loos are so insane that anyone with a spark of talent can rise to the top. Our fellow, from a good family and all that, soon rose in the ranks, and now, I do believe, he is the head of their intelligence department or security or something like that. Ahh, my dear Prrsi, that was quick. And your report?'
'Some good news and some bad news, your Highness. First the good. The Lortonoi are in the secret underground laboratory on Haggis and are very annoyed because the Hagg-Loos scientists, mad as hatters all of them, have not yet licked the problem of how to control the cheddite projector. So we won't have to worry about their turning the thing on us for a while. And now the bad news. Your companion, Chuck was the name I believe, would not aid them in their work, and after the usual physical and mental torture they shipped him off to the DnDrf mines, from which there is no return.'
'We will save him!' cried Jerry.
'Abandon all hope, it cannot be done.'
'I will do it!'
'Well – it might be done, but there is only one way. Someone must volunteer to be sold into slavery and be sent to the mine to lead the prisoners in revolt to coincide with an attack from the outside. Any of you chaps want to volunteer for slavery and probably certain death?' There was a quick shuffling backward by everyone in the room. Slow seconds passed, and guilty looks flashed from under lowered lids. In the end there was one hesitant shuffling footstep after another as Jerry dragged himself reluctantly forward.
'Call up the slavers!' he said, chin up and arms folded staunchly before him. 'I volunteer.'
A spontaneous cheer ran around the room, and Sally grabbed and kissed him moistly.
12
DISASTER AT THE MINE
'If I'm going through with this scheme I've got to have a lot more info than I have now,' Jerry sweated, wiping his forehead with a sweep of his hand. 'What is this DnDrf stuff they are mining?'
'Terrible!' Lord Prrsi said, shivering at the thought, and all the other Hagg-Inder quivered as well and, let me tell you, until you have seen a room full of red-hot, quivering, twenty-foot-iong black scorpions, you have seen nothing. 'It is a drug one sniff of which will render the sniffer an addict for life. And an addict will do anything to keep the supply coming until, after a few years, the chitin turns to powder and the suffering creature is finally released from the terrible bondage.'
'What if you don't have chitin?' John asked, interested.
'What's chitin?' Sally whispered. 'I thought it was something you ate.'
'That's chitlin,' John whispered back. 'Chitin is the hard outer covering of most insects and aliens like the Haggis here.'
'Any time you are through whispering I'll be happy to answer your question,' Lord Prrsi said, and twitched his great poison sting with annoyance. 'The answer is if you don't have chitin, then you are immune to the drug effects of DnDrf. Which is why the cold, soft-fleshed races like yours are sent to the mines. The interstellar slave traders always drop by here knowing they can get a good price for their cargo. And by jingo! there's the answer to your problem of how to get into the mine! Grab the next slave trader that comes along and get sold to him. I would ask for one hundred credits but don't settle for a penny less than eighty-five.'
'I do believe a slave trader will be calling in here,' the king broke in. 'A wonderful idea. And if you could stop the DnDrf trade, we would be ever so grateful.'
'If there is a slave trader here,' SaIly said, putting her pretty little mind to work, 'then that means – gasp! – you keep slaves!'
'Well, not too many,' the king said with a certain amount of guilt oozing out between his words. 'We treat them well and that sort of thing, and it does keep the working classes quiet since they miss the worst jobs.' SaIly turned her back, folded her arms, sniffed loudly, and said no more. Lord Prrsi was leafing through a sheaf of thin metal sheets marked with strange calligraphy.
'Yes, by Jove!' he elated. 'Here's one of the bods just took off this morning. Slow tubs, you know, you can catch him up easily in your ship and flog Jerry to him for a decent price. They'll buy him, then sell him to the HaggLoos who will instantly pop him through the one-way door of the DnDrf mine and that is that.Ї
'How will we get out?' Jerry asked.
'That is a bit of a problem. Any plans you make with the others will be heard instantly by the mind-reading villains. Of course you could take in a batch of miniaturized mind shields; we have some nice ones.'
They were indeed nice, no bigger than the head of a pin. Yet when one of them was breathed up a nostril and lodged in a sinus cavity it would go instantly to work, activated by the moisture and the warmth, and provide as good a mind shield as the bulky caps supplied by the Garnishee. A supply was provided and woven into Jerry's jockstrap, the theory being that if they took away his clothes and shoes, they would at least leave him that. The Hagg-Loos may have been insane monsters, but they wouldn't go that far. Then Jerry's clothes were torn and whip marks painted on his skin, and they all returned to the delicious cool of the Pleasantville Eagle and shot off after the slavers.
It was only a matter of minutes before they caught up with them in their parabola course that took their ship well outside the battle zone. John pulled up alongside the rusty, streaked, stained, filthy vessel and called them on the radio.
'Hello, slave ship, do you read me?'
'We prefer to be called Employment Counselors,' came the whining answer in reply.
'We have an employee here maybe we can bring to you for counseling.'
'A slave for sale?' came the slobbering answer. 'State the specifications.'
'Male, strong, stupid, loves obeying orders, lowtemperature life form suitable for the DnDrf mines. I want a hundred credits for it.'
'You'll take eighty-five or you'll take nothing.'
'Eighty-five it is. Match airlocks and we'll pass him over. See that the money is passed back in its place.'
'We are honest businessmen performing a vital function in society and would never consider cheating on a legitimate transaction of this kind. Besides, we see your gun turrets.'
Shoulders back, back straight, Jerry walked into the airlock and heard the heavy inner door close behind him like the sealing of a vault. The outer door opened into the slaver's airlock, where an ugly creature at least seven
