Surrounded by its many suns, Lysor scorned
Federation rule and plotted the destruction of our
galaxy. So Craig Nesom came in a starship to this—
PLANET OF DREAD
By Dwight V. Swain
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
February 1954
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Face slack, eyes glazed with terror, the Baemae wench came forwardthrough the gate into the walled ring.
An appreciative murmur ran through the crowd. As one, the assembledKukzubas barons and their ladies pressed closer about the pit-rail,tense and eager with anticipation.
High on his dais, Lord Zenaor chuckled. "A pretty thing, is she not,Vydys?" he queried of the woman who sat beside him, dark vision ofsinister beauty.
Hot with strange passion, the woman's eyes clung to the cringing figurein the pit. The pink tip of her tongue flicked at her lips. "If you cansee your way to calling any Baemae woman pretty. For my part, I preferher in her proper role, as prey here in the games."
"So—?" Lord Zenaor raised a mocking coal-black eyebrow. "No wonderthey call you 'Vydys the Cruel' behind your back, my dear! If you hadyour way, there'd soon be no Baemae left alive to serve us."
Visibly, Vydys stiffened. Her head came round—dark eyes flashing,jet hair ashimmer; and when she spoke her words were edged with fury."Have a care, Zenaor! I've no taste for taunts, even from the chief ofbarons."
"The truth is no taunt." Zenaor gave not a fraction. "Because pain isyour passion, you drive our serfs to rebellion."
"Rebellion—!" The woman's eyes glinted like crater diamonds. "How manyof the Baemae have flown south with their cursed discs already, off tothe djevoda ranges? There lies your rebellion—and only torture willstop it!" Her laugh rang gall-bitter. "Or perhaps, like that Narla,you believe we should free them?"
"Keep your tongue off my daughter!" It was a command that brooked nodiscussion. "As for the free range, the discs, cross them off. They'llsoon be no menace."
"Oh?" Vydys' lips twisted, mocking. "No, doubt you have a plan, my lordZenaor—"
"I have a plan indeed." Zenaor's tone was icy. "One word too many, andyou'll die as its first step."
Vydys faltered.
"You see, my dear, our goals are different." Zenaor clipped, smilingthinly. "You lust after pain, I after power. As chief of barons, I meanto have it—and that means holding down the Baemae. But I'll waste notime on half-way measures. When I strike, it will be in my own way, andit will win. And"—now he leaned forward, close to Vydys—"and even onelovely as you shall die if in that moment she plots against me."
Vydys' nostrils flared. But before she could speak, the chief of baronsturned away. He raised his voice till it echoed through the greatvaulted hall. "Wench! Are you ready?"
Below him, in the ring, the Baemae girl's lips moved in a soundlessagony of panic.
A ripple of laughter rose from the crowd. Packed bodies shifted andpressed tighter. Hungrily, mercilessly, a thousand eyes appraised theevening's victim.
Zenaor said, "Wench, tonight you meet the Lady Vydys' roller. If yousurvive, I'll make a place for you in my own harem. If not...." Heshrugged: turned back to Vydys. "My dear—"
Vydys' high, proud breasts rose on a quick-drawn breath. Lithely, shetwisted in her seat. "My helm, serf!"
The rawboned Baemae youth who wore her livery li