 
### HEALF

### CLONE WARS

### Will Decker

### Book 2 in the HEALF SCI-FI Series

Copyright 1999 by WILL DECKER

Smashwords Edition

WILL DECKER has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased, or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

CLONE WARS is a work of fiction. The resemblance of any characters to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Names, characters, places, brands, media, situations, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

This eBook may not be re-sold or given away except with written permission from the author or as otherwise permitted through special promotions and programs.

A special thank you to everyone that has made this story possible. My beta reader, my proof reader, and to you the readers. I sincerely hope you enjoy this work of fiction.

Will

More by WILL DECKER:

DRIVEN

UNREQUITED LOVE

FIRE BABY

HYBRID KILLERS

The 'HEÄLF' Collection:

MORTALITY REVISITED

CLONE WARS

DAY OF NIGHT

REGENERATIONS

HORSPAW

The 'Mac" Collection:

THE WITNESS

TOXIC RAIN

BETRAYAL

RECORD KEEPER

DEATH IN THE DUNES

WIT-SEC FAIL

SIMPLY PERFECT BINDING 2ND Ed.

If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to leave a review.

Authors starve or eat based on reviews. Thanking you from the pit of my stomach, Will

Table of Contents:

Discover More Exciting Stories by Will Decker

### **1**

The morning following our much-celebrated reunion, I awoke to the discomfort of severe cramping and pain in my lower intestinal tract. Without a doubt, the cause of my discomfort was stemming from my over indulgence of 'cake', a new delicacy that our gracious host Keazar had just recently discovered. Thanks to my over abundance of pride, Jontue, Keazar's longtime friend and cohort, easily suckered me into a foolish contest that involved proving who could eat the most of the sweet treat. That alone wouldn't have been too bad. But once I lost to the portly man that was also our esteemed savior, I made a much more dire error in judgment.

In an ill-fated attempt to redeem my self-esteem and silly pride, I accepted still yet another challenge made by my good friend and comrade, Wary. Our shared history went back to the time when we were both revived after being recycled for the first time. In a strange sort of way, we started life together, at least this life. He was the first person that I came to trust after finding myself beneath the planet's surface, and we quickly came to be fast and loyal friends.

From the first time that we met in the resuscitation room, we suspected that we had died, but were unfamiliar with recycling. Only later, would we discover that recycling was a method of restoring the dead to a former state of life, usually the prime of one's life. Along with discovering recycling, and meeting the man responsible for inventing it, came the knowledge that there was an advanced civilization beneath the planet's surface, a civilization controlled by a few, evil men, whose power and fortunes depended on cheap, disposable laborers.

Since having served in the Heälf Air Services, I as an esteemed pilot and he as a co-pilot, we shared a similar background before losing our crafts, and simultaneously, our wings. Like all former fliers, we lost our wings due to the ever-dwindling supply of aircraft, and the even shorter supply of parts that were necessary to keep them flying. When his rescue craft crashed in the jungle due to equipment fatigue and worn-out parts, his career as a co-pilot was over. When Brae's tribe found him, he was severely injured and in poor spirits. They nursed him back to health, and with Brae's constant attention, restored his desire to live. In no time, he fell in love with the beautiful and vivacious woman.

He remained with Brae's tribe, intending to claim her as his eternal mate and partner, when he discovered a shaft leading into the subsurface. Lured by his own curiosity and hunger for adventure, he took Brae into the underground world beneath the surface. Unwittingly, they had been followed by Cos, Brae's big brother and self-appointed protector. Her brother Cos, unfortunately, was slain during a failed attempt to save his sister from capture by Lord Balzar's solders. Nevertheless, that was all a long time ago and in another life. Even though we have no formally established vows, Wary has officially claimed Brae as his life-mate, and she, in turn, has promised to reside with him for all eternity.

Loté, the lithe, extremely capable, and ever more beautiful woman who pulled me from the wreckage after my fatal crash in the jungle, and I, are also planning our future together as one. My own co-pilot and dear friend was killed in that fateful crash; a misfortune that I feel wholly responsible for and will carry the burden of guilt with me for all eternity. Loté, although understanding of my feelings on the subject, is sensible enough to realize that had I not followed that dreadful chain of events leading up to my co-pilot's demise, it would have been her demise, as well as that of her parents.

Even Keazar, the generously proportioned man of eccentric behavior that is responsible for developing recycling to the advanced stated that it enjoys today, found a woman that he could love, and vice-versa. The latter being a well-endowed female named Linit. To everyone's amazement and delight, he just recently discovered this latent ability to love after nearly three thousand years of celibacy.

Shortly after I lost the cake-eating contest to Jontue, Wary challenged me to a drinking contest. The potent liquid that had lifted my spirits to such dizzying heights the night before had a phenomenal way of bringing me to my knees the morning after. I can normally handle distilled spirits. But when the alcohol combined with the sugar in the cake, it was more than enough to make any man sick. Still, I made a mental note to myself that I would have to sample the delicacy again; it had been a very tasty treat. However, next time, I would try it without the accompaniment of liquid spirits.

As I lay on the soft mattress of the overly large bed, I surveyed the plushly appointed room. Slaves had carved this room, like all the others adjoining the huge ceremonial cavern, out of the solid bedrock of the planet. It took many long, hard years, copious amounts of human agony, and countless deaths to excavate all the hallways, tunnels, and other rooms adjoining these beneath the planet's surface. In fact, every cubic yard of habitable space within the subsurface of Heälf represented a tremendous cost in the form of both human lives and human suffering. Sadly, every passage and hallway in existence today was made possible by the affordably cheap price placed upon human life. Thanks to the ease with which the human body can be recycled, it was easy for the unscrupulous rulers to ignore the other, less obvious costs.

Replacement laborers were easily obtained through mercenaries that journeyed to the surface for the sole purpose of abducting people, usually killing them in the process to facilitate an easier transport. When cave-ins and other fatal tragedies occurred during routine mining activities, making body recovery almost impossible, or simply too costly to pursue, there was always another to take their place. The mercenaries traded their abducted victims for metal trinkets, or the lesser valued gems that were plentiful beneath the surface. But their most prized commodity was the steel blades that the surface dwellers could fashion their own custom handles to; these items have an extraordinary value on the surface where metals are rare and highly prized.

Their victims, on the other hand, were required to pay their new lords in exchange for having been recycled. This payment, or rather indenture, was a bogus and inflated fee for having been recycled, something that very few actually required before the mercenaries kidnapped them. The indenture period was stated in terms of years, but usually lasted an unspecified period of time, none of which ever outlived it.

Enslaved, bound in chains with all hope of freedom taken from them, they were treated with less respect than that afforded to a lowly animal. Most were forced to work in scalding temperatures far away from the air-conditioned hallways. Because they received less food and water than was absolutely necessary for their survival, many died horrible, agonizing deaths, only to be recycled and returned to the mines and tunnels; the length of their indenture naturally increased to cover the added expense of needing to be recycled again. It was a vicious cycle that had been going on for centuries, and only now was being brought to an end.

This was the original reason that they had captured Wary, among many others, and brought them here; for the sole purpose of being sold into slavery. Unlike the more humane custom of paying slaves for their services, which is a standard practice on the planet's surface, in the subsurface, slave trading is not considered a black market proprietary. Instead, in the subsurface, it was quite the contrary. Even the slaves had grown to accept the fact that they were a traded commodity like any other accepted business practice. They learned to accept their dismal futures and the fact that the future held little for them in the way of prospects. Only by proving themselves many times over, were the chains removed, and privileges granted.

As Keazar's mercenaries were anxious to sell their captured people for mere trinkets, so too, were his customers eager to receive them. His two main customers had been Lord's Thar and Balzar, each with their own personal reasons for needing slaves.

Lord Thar had been mainly into mining precious metals from the planet's core, and thus had a greater need for strong young males. He had built a domain that had become well known among traders for the fine steel weapons that they manufactured. The blades were of such fine steel, they resisted the corroding effects of the high humidity encountered both above and below the planet's hard basaltic crust. Hence, it never ceased to cause me wonder, that I had never seen a long-knife before entering the subsurface. Such an extravagance of steel would have drawn much attention to its owner on the surface.

A by-product of Thar's extensive mining operations was many catacombs and countless tunnels. These catacombs later came to be inhabited by escaped slaves, and the tunnels eventually forgotten by all but those same escaped slaves that learned them to memory. Large numbers of escaped slaves eventually banded together, forming the basis of what are the rebel tribes. King Sheesa's small band of warriors, with his women and children, are an exception to this theory. Somehow, Sheesa's people originated on the surface, and have never experienced the recycling apparatus, because one of the few drawbacks of being recycled is the inescapable sterility that results. Sheesa's many children are blaring proof of his tribe's fertile origins.

Even today, I am sure that many survivors are still living in the farthest reaches of the tunnels and hallways that riddle the interior of this planet. Despite the recent catastrophe that nearly wiped out the entire human race beneath the planet's surface, I still believe this.

Unlike Lord Thar, Lord Balzar had been more interested in personal gratification on a much more immoral level. He was in control of the nuclear reactors that supply the power to keep the planet's interior air-conditioning units running. Without the constant cooling effect, brought on by the extensive use of refrigerant being pumped through the walls of the hallways, life could not survive in the subsurface. How he had come to this position of power was a much-debated issue. But because of his self-absorbed nature and neglect of his basic duties, a catastrophe of unequalled parallel brought down the subsurface hierarchy.

However, until his demise, or suspected demise, he traded this life sustaining power for the most beautiful women that came out of Keazar's recycling labs.

Mostly, these women had been living on the planet's surface until either being lured down here or outright kidnapped by Keazar's mercenaries. The most devious of methods were employed to garner the chintzy bounties placed upon human flesh. And when their first efforts failed, they literally tore their victims away from families and loved ones. Kidnapping them alive if they could easily do so, killing them and carting their lifeless bodies off if they couldn't. Resistance of any kind was not tolerated, and ruthlessly brought to an abrupt end. It was easier to transport a lifeless body, than one that continued to struggle. And they were paid the same, irregardless of the victim's physical condition.

With the mercenaries, all hope of ever seeing a loved one or family again was brought to an abrupt end, taken away and never returned. These tragedies and more, Keazar had unknowingly sanctioned. Simply so he could afford to purchase power from Lord Balzar; power that was necessary to keep his many recycling labs running at full capacity.

After coming to realize the tremendous amount of pain and suffering that he'd been the initial cause of, he came to regret his earlier actions. In fact, his remorse grew so great that he made it his primary mission to aid in the restoration of a just hierarchy for the remaining inhabitants of the planet. He has committed himself to the establishment of peace and fairness for all humans, as have the rest of us that were fortunate enough to escape the catastrophe.

With the fog lifting from my thick head and my eyes beginning to distinguish the various objects in the room more clearly, I suddenly realized that I didn't see Loté anywhere. Just as suddenly, I assumed that she must have risen earlier, and went out to arrange for our trip to the surface. Brae and her were ecstatic at the prospect of returning to the dense green jungles of the surface that so clearly represent home to us.

If the truth were known, I was more than a little anxious myself. Loté and I had lost a great deal of time away from the search for her parents; time that we could never make up, when we once again resumed the search. Yet, during the festivities of the night before, Keazar and I had plenty of time to talk, and I couldn't help but think about what he'd said. Although it felt as if I were betraying Loté's trust, I had to give credence to his words, words that would take me even farther away from the time when I could fulfill my commitment to Loté and her parents.

Keazar had lived here beneath the planet's surface for more than three thousand Earth-years. In his judgment, especially where it concerned matters of the subsurface, I had come to trust in him without reservation. Yet, I still found it hard to believe that he considered me the planet's salvation. Something had convinced him that I was the man to bring peace and prosperity to the entire world, with a little help and guidance from him, of course. Together, he assured me, we could build a new hierarchy. With the help of our friends, we could open this planet up so that surface dwellers and ground dwellers alike would have the same rights and responsibilities. It was an overwhelming challenge, one that held many prospects and possibilities for me.

Meanwhile, I couldn't shake the notion that the entire planet and all of its inhabitants were in my hands. The thought of being responsible for so many people was stirring unease in the pit of my stomach. The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that he might be right. If I leave now, not only will I be letting down mankind, but ultimately, myself. There is currently too much at stake, too many loose ends that need my attention.

It suddenly seemed inconceivable that I could even consider going off on a hopeless search with Loté when so much uncertainty still needed to be addressed. And yet, neither could I imagine the thought of letting her go searching for her parents by herself. Though the jungle was fraught with hidden danger and unknown peril, I knew the reason that I felt this way wasn't because I doubted in her ability to take care of herself; on that point alone, I couldn't argue. However, I knew the time that I spent worrying about her, should she decide to go it alone, would distract me to the point where I could not satisfactorily perform my chosen duties here. The quandary of indecision was maddening!

Briefly, I considered explaining to her that the chance of her parents being discovered by a rescue party and being brought here, compared with the chance of us stumbling upon them in the jungle, was tremendously greater. If she would just listen to me with an open mind, there was a chance she might understand.

But then, as quickly as the idea came to me, I just as quickly discarded it. Though it did hold a small grain of truth, even I could see that it was a weak argument at best.

With my mind still in a quandary, I finally decided that my only choice was to be open with her and tell her of the decision that I had come to. With full honesty, I would explain my reasoning to her and hope for the best. Loté was a very practical woman, and I felt sure that she would understand. With my mind made up, I decided to get it over with; putting it off any longer than necessary wouldn't make it any easier on either of us.

But first, I would have to find the fecal hole and expel some of this gas building up inside my stomach before I explode. Stumbling from the bed, my head started spinning. Quickly, I dropped back into a sitting position on the edge of the bedding and hung my head for a moment, letting the blood drain down to it. Within a matter of seconds the dizziness passed. Then, moving slowly, I pulled back the rugs that covered the floor, searching beneath them for a lid. It stood to reason that the fecal hole would be hidden in the floor beneath the rugs; royalty wouldn't be expected to venture out of such lavish accommodations or share waste facilities with the common folk; it had to be in here somewhere.

After a moment of unease in my roiling stomach, I found the fecal hole and was in the process of cleaning myself when Loté returned. The smile that was covering her face quickly dissipated as the stench in the air assaulted her keen senses. Quickly, grabbing her by the arm, I led her back out through the door, while at the same time asking if she had eaten breakfast yet.

"No, I haven't. In fact, I was just coming to see if you wanted to join me. But now, I'm not so sure that I still have an appetite," she answered a bit sarcastically. And then, in the same tone of voice, added, "Maybe we should have Jontue check that room out for dead bodies. Of course, judging from that stench, it would probably be too decomposed to be recycled anyway!"

Quickly putting her hand over her mouth in an exaggerated attempt to stifle her laughter, she watched me blush out of the corner of her eye. Despite my discomfort with her joke and the bright red flush of my cheeks, I continued walking stoically forward, feigning oblivion to her cutting remark. When she gave no sign of letting up, I finally responded in my defense.

"Sure, go ahead. Have a little fun at my expense. I seem to remember someone that smelled very similar to that at one time. Of course, I won't be so crude as to mention any names," I added haughtily.

This quickly brought her laughter under control as forgotten memories of a past lifetime briefly flitted across her mind, sobering her immediately. Although she hadn't been in any condition to remember, the others had since told her about my determination to carry her corpse single-handedly to the recycling labs.

In subdued silence, she led me through the main cavern and down a well-lighted hallway. Allowing her to lead the way, since I wasn't familiar with this area, except for the location of Keazar's private rooms and the recycling labs, I followed close on her heels. It was also probably better that I stayed behind her where she couldn't see the smug look on my face.

She didn't have any problem finding her way. Within minutes, we were entering a large banquet room. The rest of our friends had already arrived and were sitting on either side of a long stone table. Wary and Brae were on the left side of the table while Keazar and Linit were sitting on the right. Lute and Elsa were sitting farther down on the right, near the door leading into the food preparation room. Jontue had taken a seat between Elsa and Linit.

At the sight of Lute and Elsa sitting together, I had to quickly disguise my surprise. I had obviously been mistaken when I assumed that they had been stuck with each other the night before for lack of anyone else. It would appear by their actions toward each other now that they had experienced something more than just the release of pent-up sexual tension. Secretly, I wished them the best of luck. They were two special people and I had taken an instant liking to them. That they would do right by each other, I harbored no doubts.

Following Loté down the left side of the table past Wary and Brae, I nodded my greetings to each. As we sat down, a young woman came out of the food preparation area carrying two bowls of something that resembled mush. She set one in front of Loté and then me respectively. Thanking her, I cleared my throat and adjusted myself in my seat. Having reached the decision that I had, I knew that I was going to create controversy and unrest among those gathered here. Until I announced it and got it out in the open, I wasn't going to feel much like eating, if then. I was thankful that everyone was still sitting around the table, since it was quite apparent by the lack of eating utensils that everyone had long since finished with their own breakfasts. At the least, it wasn't necessary to call a meeting to make my announcement.

Standing, I looked at each of their faces as they turned questioningly toward me. Loté, who had already started eating, slowly stopped and silently set her knife down on the table beside her plate. Looking up at me, I could clearly see the puzzlement on her face as she wondered why I had gotten to my feet. As I stood looking down at her, I felt sharp pangs of guilt stabbing into my heart. I suddenly wondered why I hadn't taken her into my confidence, and discussed my decision with her before breaking it to the others?

Deep down inside me, I knew why I hadn't; I was hoping that Keazar and Jontue would exert peer pressure on her. In fact, I was counting on it. I knew they were in agreement with my decision. But I didn't know if they could convince her to remain here in the subsurface with me?

It was common knowledge that Wary and Brae had plans of their own. Brae had talked about nothing else except that she intended for her and Wary to find her tribe and reunite with her family. Because of her strong tribal beliefs, she was adamant that they should exchange their vows of dedication to each other in the presence of her tribe's elders. Until such time that they partook of this ritual, she felt like she was nothing more than Wary's whore. Not believing in any such diatribe myself, I respected her feelings regarding them, just the same.

Although Loté's own personal beliefs had undergone a major transformation during her time spent in the deep passages of the subsurface, she still possessed enough of her old values to want the same thing of me; she valued the commitment that a man made to a woman and vice-versa. Loté was growing frantic to get back to the surface, just as Wary and Brae were. But unlike Wary and Brae, Loté felt that time was stacked against her. With each passing minute and day, the trail leading to her parents grew colder, with less chance of finding them alive. While Wary and Brae had all of eternity to find Brae's tribe and perform their vows, time was running out for Loté's parents, if it hadn't already.

"You have something to say, my good man?" asked Keazar, when all the chatter around the table grew quiet, and everyone's attention was focused on me.

Nervously, I glanced around at my friends, returning their questioning stares. With everyone's attention now centered on me, I was committed to the path that I had chosen and couldn't turn back. When I'd met each of their gazes independently, I slowly turned back, meeting their subsequent stares again as a group. I was extremely nervous and only buying time through my hesitation. When I had surveyed the entirety of the table for a second time, my gaze returned to Loté; she looked up at me with those big beautiful eyes. There was a perplexed, troubled look on her face, causing me to feel even guiltier than I had just a moment earlier.

Looking up, I cleared my throat again before acknowledging Keazar's question in the affirmative.

"What I have to say will assuredly delight some of you," I began hesitantly. "Nevertheless, I'm afraid it will not delight all."

Momentarily, I paused to collect and organize my thoughts more clearly before continuing, "I have been doing some serious thinking about what Keazar told us last night, concerning me in particular. If you will recall," I glanced over at Keazar while continuing, "he made a strong point about the relative instability of the current hierarchy, both on and within this planet since the nuclear reactor tragedy. What I am about to tell you, I tell you only because of the deep love that I have for Heälf. I feel a kinship that encompasses each and every one of its inhabitants, both above and below the surface. This is the only reason that I can give you for doing what I have decided that I must do."

Looking nervously about the room, I let my eyes touch briefly on the expectant, upturned faces that were waiting quietly and patiently for me to continue. Again, I did this until I had surveyed the whole room and everyone in it; making eye contact with each individual until my eyes met and locked once again with Loté's deep, limpid pools. Trying to force my thoughts into her thoughts, I silently begged her to understand the meaning of what I was about to say.

"This doesn't mean that I love any of you any less," I said softly into her eyes.

Quickly, I had to look away, the guilt suddenly surging up nakedly before my eyes. In that instant before I broke eye contact with her, I knew she had at least sensed the depth of my pain. Yet, more importantly, I sensed that she was feeling her own imminent pain. After almost choking on the next words, they suddenly came blurting out. Echoing off the solid stone of the walls, they landed on stunned ears.

Finishing, I solemnly added, "And thus, I have decided that I must stay here in the catacombs below the planet's surface, where I can do the most good for the planet and its people while it strives desperately to find itself."

There was a simultaneous inhalation of breath as everyone gasped at my remark. Loté jumped from her chair and ran through the exit without as much as a backwards glance. Inside, I cringed at the painful blow that I had just dealt her. She felt betrayed, and rightly so. Yet, I could do nothing to assuage her hurt. With remorseful hindsight, I wondered at my cruel indifference toward her feelings, and why I had not confided to her in private beforehand. Surely though, she would still have felt the same way. But it would have been much kinder on my part, if I had not dropped the news on her so unexpectedly in the presence of everyone else. At the least, I should have saved her the embarrassment of finding out at the same time as the others. I owed her that much and more.

Brae and Wary were looking from one to the other as if they couldn't believe their own ears. Keazar looked briefly at Linit, as she quickly rose from her chair beside him. Without a word, she hurriedly chased after Loté. The look on Keazar's face told me that he was being torn between his feelings for Loté's well-being, and jubilation for my decision. Jontue, not knowing Loté and the rest of us as intimately as Keazar, made no bones about his elation over my decision.

"That is wonderful!" he cried out, raising his iron cup above his head. "Let's all drink a toast! To new-found wisdom and the men to implement it!"

Jontue quickly lowered his cup as he looked from one confused face to the next. A look of puzzlement crept over his face as he suddenly realized that no one else was sharing his enthusiasm. After an awkward moment of silence, in which no one seemed eager to explain the situation to him, he turned to face Keazar.

In a conciliatory tone of voice, he said, "I must have missed something, my good man. Why is it that no one seems to appreciate the good fortune of Rod's decision but me?"

"I fully appreciate our good fortune, Jontue," answered Keazar softly, speaking for Jontue's benefit, yet never taking his eyes from mine. "But tragically, our hearts are heavy for Loté and the decision that she now faces. Her decision, no matter which way she decides, will rend her between staying with Rod, her love, and renewing her quest to find her parents."

Standing in silence, I had been oblivious to everything that was happening around me. Everything, that is, except the sight of Loté's back as she ran through the opening leading away from me. Only as the sound of her bare feet on the stone floor began to fade in the distance, did I hear the ending of Keazar's explanation to Jontue.

"I will need your help in this matter," I said solemnly, not looking at anyone in particular. "Please. The decision for me to stay and personally oversee the rebuilding of the planet's hierarchy was not one that I came to lightly. A lot of serious thought and soul searching went into it." Almost hypnotically, I turned to face Jontue before continuing. "If it isn't asking too much of my good friend Jontue, I was hoping that maybe you would be willing to explain to Loté the advantages of my remaining here during this critical time."

Pausing for just a moment as I turned my gaze to face Keazar, I continued in the same solemn tone, "I would also hope that my dear friend Keazar might find it in himself not only to console her, but also to explain how my remaining here actually increases the chances of her finding her parents. With each recycling center that we can get back online, we dramatically increase the odds that her parents will turn up at one. Also, with more gateways open to the surface, we can increase the number of search parties scouring the Eastern fringe of the jungle." After a momentary pause for effect, I softly, beseechingly, continued. "I doubt that she will be willing to listen to me, and that is why it's so important that you, her close and dear friends, reach out to her. She will listen to you, and trust in your judgment."

With tears rolling out of the corners of my eyes, I turned my attention to everyone still seated around the table, making my final plea for their help. "Please, I beg of you, I cannot do this alone."

"We see your point of view, Rod," spoke up Wary. "Since we are speaking openly and honestly," he hesitated as he looked at Brae and she nodded affirmatively back to him. "We have something we would like to say to you. Brae and I have followed you through Hell. You have never betrayed our trust or faith in you. If it would help, we would like to stay and assist you in any way that we can. We give you this pledge of our commitment and loyalty until such time as we are no longer needed here."

Their declaration of loyalty and sincerity moved me deeply. My eyes watered of their own accord. "I can't ask that of you..."

Brae cut me off in mid-sentence, "You don't have to ask, we insist."

"Then I can only say that you have my heart-felt thanks. Thank you, especially you, Brae. I know this is not easy for you."

Lute and Elsa started to say how they were looking forward to working together with everyone when their voices suddenly trailed off and then fell silent. In unison, their heads turned toward the entrance to see what the others were looking at.

Loté was stepping through with Linit close behind her. Neither said a word as Loté walked back to stand beside me and Linit returned to her seat beside Keazar. The silence in the room quickly grew stifling.

With apprehension, I looked into her face, instantly recognizing the puffy telltale signs of tears. It tore me up inside to have been the cause of her pain. Looking back at me, she forced a weak smile before turning back to face the anxious expressions on the faces of our friends.

Speaking hesitantly, she said, "Before Keazar starts rattling off percentages and chances, I would just like to tell you that I have decided to stay with my man."

Before she could say another word, everyone at the table stood and cheered her decision. Among the many voices, I could hear Jontue promising her as many rescue missions as they could find volunteers to man. He even went so far as to promise her that he would personally escort a mission to the surface if he could be spared from his other duties. Elsa was quick to add that there would never be a shortage of volunteers where Loté's needs were concerned.

In the excitement that followed, no one was even aware that at some point the servant girls had brought in large stone cauldrons of potable liquids, at Keazar's encouragement, I had no doubt. Before long, everyone was in high spirits. A general feeling of elation hung in the air.

That is, all except for Loté and myself. Without being obvious about it, we were nonchalantly passing on the refills while the others began picking up where they had left off the night before. As we nursed our original cups of the potent liquid, it was with some dread that I looked forward to our first opportunity to speak to each other alone. I knew that no matter how understanding Loté could be, I was still going to be in need of all my wits once the conversation between us got going in earnest. Explaining why I hadn't given her the consideration of taking her into my confidence earlier was not going to be an easy task. Now that the damage had been done, I wasn't even sure why I hadn't told her of my decision in private before announcing it publicly. The only plausible excuse that I could come up with, and it wasn't one that I relished sharing with her, was that I felt so insecure of our relationship that I had needed the comradery of the others to bolster me. At best, it was a pathetically weak argument. She should have had some forewarning of what her man was up to, or so I will be told at some point in the very near future.

### **2**

After several hours, which seemed to drag on for eternity, the group at the table finally drank enough alcohol so that Loté and I were able to slip out of the room without being noticed. The small amount of the fervent liquid that I'd consumed was just the right amount to take the edge off my hangover. I was grateful for that little fact, even if it made me acutely aware of a swelling hunger.

In the hallway, we came upon a young woman heading back toward the room from which we had just come. Stopping her, I asked if she would be kind enough to bring some food to our sleeping quarters. Suddenly remembering the terrible stench that I'd left there, I quickly changed my request, and asked instead if she could bring it out to the pool. She seemed more than willing to oblige us as she turned and headed down another hallway that would take her directly to the food prepping room. With a tinge of humor, I noticed that it also bypassed the room containing our drunken friends.

Upon entering the gaily-decorated cavern, where we had celebrated the night before, we were immediately aware of an eerie silence. It hung in the air of the cavern, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand on end. I had mistakenly assumed that servants would be working to clean up our mess. We had disallowed slavery and indenturing, but many of Keazar's entrusted slaves had remained out of a debt of gratitude and the promise of a small wage. Now the cavern was empty except for the woven banners and finely crafted pieces of art that adorned it.

"Where is everyone?" I asked of Loté.

"Whom do you mean?" she innocently asked, also looking nervously around the cavern.

"The people," I beseechingly uttered. When she only turned a questioning glance toward me, I emphasized my perplexity. "You know who I mean, the people that clean and arrange everything to look fresh again. The maids, the servants, everyone, the people!" I demanded, unable to hide my bewilderment.

"I hadn't noticed. But you're right, though, now that you mention it. It is unlike Keazar to leave this place in such a mess. There should be people here."

"We'll ask the young woman when she brings us our food," I said, trying to push the disquieting feeling out of my mind. "Right now we have other things to discuss."

"Yes, we do," she said sternly as we drew near the seat by the edge of the pool.

She stopped suddenly and turned to face me. I couldn't stand to see the hurt in her eyes. Although she was also angry with me, she would get over it. It was the hurt that I caused her that I was more concerned with at the moment; I was worried that she might not understand my reasons for treating her as shabbily as I had.

"I'm sorry," I lamely blurted, searching unsuccessfully for the right words.

"You're sorry?" she heatedly fired back, leaping angrily on my words.

With the vast expanse of the cavern at my back, I stood solemnly facing her, readying myself to accept her wrath, when suddenly something distracted her attention away from me. Her eyes flitted past my shoulder for just the fleetest of moments before coming back to focus on mine. My instinctive reaction would have been to turn and see what had grabbed her attention, but my mind was momentarily preoccupied with trying to find the right words to say to her.

Instead, I wrongly assumed it to be the young woman who had just left us, possibly having forgotten something and was returning for it.

Before I knew what was happening, she had thrown her arms around my neck and locked her fingers together at the back of my head. In one smooth movement, she rolled backwards, pulling me with her. Before I could cry out in protest, my feet had left the warmth of the stone floor behind, and I was sailing through the air, passing gracefully over her prostrate form. Like a gymnast, I performed a complete somersault through the air, before landing flat on my back in the pool. My fall was broken only by the shallow water, as it splashed over the bench and onto the cavern floor. As quickly as I landed, I spun around in the water and planted my feet beneath me. Pushing off against the slippery bottom of the pool, I lithely sprang upright.

Coughing and spitting water, I felt anger and humiliation boiling up inside me. Although I realized that I had treated her shabbily by not warning her in advance of the decision that I had come to, she didn't have the right to back-flip me into the pool. I didn't blame her for being angry with me, but we needed to sit down and discuss our feelings like adults.

Angrily, I started yelling at her for what she had done. But she was already too preoccupied to pay me any mind. After letting me fly, she had bounced back to her own feet, while simultaneously drawing her weapon. Before I could clear the water from my eyes, she had taken up a defensive stance with her knife and was slashing and jabbing from one side to the other, effectively keeping two soldiers armed with long-knives at bay. As I drew my own weapon and prepared to join in the fight, my attention was drawn toward the bright sheen of polished iron, and the fact that both soldiers were wearing breast-plated armor. Yet, even more alarming than the fact that they were wearing armor was the all too familiar insignia of Lord Balzar's army emblazoned across the front of it. The all too familiar, thick steel long-knives they were wielding, were issued only to Lords Thar and Balzar's soldiers.

Yet, in the heat of the moment, none of that mattered, as the added length of their weapons was proving to be quite a test to Loté's prowess with a knife. Only after taking care of them, would we worry about where they'd come from.

In spite of feeling a moment of confusion regarding the soldiers, I didn't need to be told why Loté had done what she had. Looking past my shoulder, she had seen either a spear or a knife being thrown at my exposed back. In a split second decision, she had decided that to throw me out of harm's way would be both quicker and easier than taking the time to explain her actions.

The sound of running feet approaching from my left quickly drew my attention in that direction. Turning on my heel, I was just in time to confront two more soldiers that were charging our flank at a dead run. Ducking a thrust from the first soldier's long-knife, I lowered my shoulder and took the impact of his momentum against my coiled body. Heaving upward, I added to his forward momentum with an upward thrust of my knife, driving it deep into his groin. He let out a whoosh of hot air as he somersaulted lifelessly into the pool behind me, his life coming to an end with a big splash.

There was neither the time nor the need to look at the results of my efforts, as my attention was quickly drawn back in Loté's direction.

Hearing a deep guttural grunt, I involuntarily glanced away from my second assailant, a sudden fear for her safety immediately surging up inside me. Turning just in time to see her plant her foot against the breastplate of one of her assailants, I watched with pride as she pulled a bloodied knife from his chest.

Unfortunately, the reflexive glance that I had given Loté was a distraction that I couldn't afford. Before I knew what had happened, I felt a warm flush running down my left side, and the searing pain of hot steel slicing through my flesh.

Always, I had prided myself on my abilities to do battle with a knife. Like most warriors, it had been my weapon of choice since I was a young child. Also, I had spent many hours training in the finer art of hand-to-hand combat while serving in the Heälf Air Services. It was the result of this intense training and conditioning that my body reacted without waiting for my brain to think. From an ingrained reflex, I spun with the blow, preventing the hot steel blade from being driven deeper into my flesh. It was a twofold move that couldn't be taught; it came naturally, or you died. While twisting with his thrust, subconsciously following his weapon's momentum, the assailant was involuntarily being drawn in closer; too close for his long-knife to be effective.

When I couldn't turn any farther without risk of losing my footing, I slashed out with my knife in a backhanded sweep, bringing the sharply honed steel of my weapon across the front of his throat. The spray of his sweet-tasting blood blinded me as it spurted from the severed veins lying just below the surface of his flayed flesh. The now dead soldier's momentum came to a halt almost as fast as his heart.

Slipping dangerously on the slick surface of the blood-covered stones beneath my feet, I barely caught myself on the edge of the pool before falling to the floor; an irrational fear that I might fall and never get up suddenly prevailed on my mind.

Glancing down, I realized the source of my agony, as my eyes grasped the seriousness of the situation. There was a long-knife protruding from my flesh just beneath my left arm.

Dropping my knife, I grabbed the long-knife protruding from me by the blade. Using both hands, I tried vainly to pull it free. Slowly, steadily, I could feel the sharpened edge slicing into the tender flesh of my fingers and palms; the blood-covered blade was too slick to grasp securely. Already, there was a dark red pool forming under my feet, as my life's force seeped heavily from around the blade where it had entered my body.

Immuring myself to the pain, I tightened my grip on the blade, squeezing it dangerously tight, and then push-pulled it away from my body. Ever so slowly, I could feel it giving ground and, sliding from within my flesh. With my eyes clamped shut against the pain, concentrating solely on the painstaking progress of my efforts, I was suddenly struck a slamming blow in the back. Stunned and surprised, my eyes shot open, straining to see through the warm sticky blood that clouded my vision.

As my feet slipped on my own blood, I vaguely realized that I was falling, and there was nothing between the hard, unforgiving stone of the floor and myself, except the protruding hilt of the long-knife. With a cold, sick feeling, I imagined how my unconscious weight and downward momentum would drive the burning steel deep into the vital organs lying helplessly beneath my flesh.

With all the fervor of a madman, I summoned the last of my strength and yanked feverishly at the protruding hilt. With the floor looming up, and not a second too soon, it shot free. I was acutely aware of the sound of tearing flesh, followed by a sickening plop, and then the blade was free of my body. Had it taken just a fraction of a second longer, the impact would have driven it fatally deep into my vital organs.

Dropping the bloodied long-knife, I drew myself up to my knees, while pawing furiously at my eyes to clear away the blood. Through the veil of blurry pinks and reds, I saw the fuzzy shape of someone coming toward me, a drawn long-knife held at the ready.

Frantically reaching out, my hands found the hilt of the weapon that I had just dropped. Grasping it up with both hands so that I wouldn't lose my grip on its blood-slicked hilt, I raised it defensively in front of me. On the verge of swinging at the advancing figure, I suddenly refrained, as I heard Loté's voice penetrating the haze of pain and loss of blood.

"It's okay, Rod!" she screamed, one of her assailant's long-knives that she was brandishing just a moment before, slipping forgotten from her fingers. It landed with a loud metallic clang on the stone as she dropped to her knees beside me. "You're hurt! Oh my god, you're bleeding!"

With a loud sigh, I dropped the heavy blade that I'd just retrieved, and fell back on my haunches, my ass coming to rest on the warm stone floor. Through the pain, I was dimly aware of someone rinsing my eyes with water from the pool. Forcing them open, I indistinctly saw Loté hunched over me. She was now using the same piece of material that she had used to rinse my eyes, to rinse the blood from the wound in my side.

"It's not that deep," she said, relief flooding through her voice. "You probably won't even need recycling."

"It may not be too serious, but it hurts like hell! My whole side feels as if it's on fire. Help me to my feet," I breathed through clenched teeth as I reached out to her. "Where the hell did these soldiers come from anyway?"

"I don't know, but rest there a minute, you've been through enough for the time being," she answered solemnly, as she rolled one of the bodies onto its back to get a better view of the crest adorning its breastplate. Her voice barely more than a whisper, she firmly stated, "That is definitely Lord Balzar's insignia!"

"I find it hard to believe that they were here of their own accord, Loté. Someone must have sent them to kill one or both of us."

"Yeah, and I think I know who," she finished, wiping her personal knife clean on the wet piece of material before sliding it back into its scabbard.

Wary came running from the direction of the banquet hall. Specks of blood dotted his pale bare skin and he was breathing hard, but not from the short run.

Without so much as a glance at the dead soldiers scattered about us, he quickly blurted out between breaths, "All hell is breaking loose. A couple of refugees that were passing through said there are more soldiers coming this way. Jontue wanted to keep them here, but they refused; they were running-scared. I could see the fear in their eyes, Rod. I hope you don't think I did the wrong thing, but we gave them supplies and let them go. Also, most of the servants have taken flight too."

"Is everyone else all right?" I asked anxiously.

"Yeah," he started more calmly as his breathing slowed. "Three came upon us in the dining room, but no one was injured seriously, thanks to Keazar's swift actions."

"I don't get it, Wary. Lord Balzar is supposed to be dead or in hiding. The same is supposed to be true of Lord Thar. All their soldiers had supposedly deserted them. Even Lute said as much!" I angrily protested.

"I can't answer that, Rod. But according to the two refugees, we don't have much time to prepare before they arrive." Looking from one to the next of the dead soldiers, he added as an afterthought, "It's too bad they're all dead, otherwise we could question them and find out exactly what's going on."

"That's not a bad idea!" said Loté excitedly. "Let's get one of these bodies back to the recycling lab. Maybe Jontue or Keazar can bring it back to life so that we can question it and get the answers we need."

"I don't think we have that long before the soldiers arrive. It could take weeks to bring one of these guys back. We may not have hours to spare, much less that kind of time," Wary nervously argued.

"Then we'll leave these bodies here," I suggested quickly. "Let's get back to the rest of the group and see what Keazar suggests. If he thinks he can do something quick, we'll just use a body from the dining hall. Give me a hand up, would you?" I asked, holding out my hand and allowing him to pull me to my feet.

We took off at a trot with Wary in the lead followed by Loté and then myself. I knew the wound in my side was only superficial, thanks to my quick reaction, but it still hurt like hell. If what those refugees said was true, and it appeared that Wary believed in what they had told him, we were quickly running out of time. Too soon, an army of soldiers was due to arrive, and we needed a plan of action before then.

If it turns out that there aren't any more soldiers coming, then I will gladly step into a recycling capsule just to make the pain go away. As it stands though, I don't doubt for a minute that there isn't the time to spare. Because I trust completely in Wary's judgment, if he believes what the refugees told him, then that is good enough for me.

And right now, Wary firmly believes that at any minute, we are going to be overrun by an army of Balzar's soldiers. This was the same army that according to all reports had disbanded when their respective leader was killed, or ran for his miserable life.

We had put out the word to all the survivors to keep their eyes open for the remains of either Lord Thar or Lord Balzar. As far as we knew, no one had brought either of the lousy carcasses in to be recycled. Because of that, I had assumed that they had perished. Instead, the lack of their corpses should have been cause enough to assume that somehow they had survived. It was more than possible, actually probable, that they had somehow made their way to the surface. And after reaching the surface, they had received help from their wealthy comrades, many of which, they had once conducted business.

When I considered this outlandish possibility, I chastised myself for not having thought of it sooner. From the Lord's perspective, it would have been a simple matter, something that had been thought out and prepared for well in advance of their time of need. It would have taken very little time to reorganize and re-supply a small army of faithful followers with help from the surface, and all fanatical leaders cultivated a few highly devoted men that would do anything for the cause.

Making the scenario even more plausible, was the fact that we had been led to believe by honest men that were currently in Jontue's employment at the farther recycling labs, both Balzar and Thar were last seen heading for the surface.

The more I considered it, the more plausible it seemed.

Yet, as far-fetched and unlikely as it might be the only other idea that comes to mind is even more bizarre. If neither of the Lords are in charge, than someone else has taken control of their armies, and that seems wholly unlikely.

Somehow, I couldn't imagine anyone with that kind of influence, and Keazar not having mentioned them before. Of course, it was always possible that a Wealthy from the planet's surface was in command. However unlikely, it was still a possibility. Yet, it was hard to believe that someone could have gained control of the Lords' armies in such a short time. And so far, we had only seen evidence of Balzar's crest, and not Thar's. It just didn't make any sense. The more I thought about it, the more I agreed that we needed a live prisoner to question. We had to have some answers!

"Keazar!" I shouted as we entered the dining hall.

Keazar jumped up from where he had been sitting behind a turned-over chair and quickly pronounced that he was all right. Doing a quick check and head count, I came up one short. Almost immediately, I realized that Jontue was missing.

"Where is Jontue?" I asked hurriedly of no one in particular, but of anyone that might know.

There was a quick flurry of searching looks about the room and at each other before it became obvious that no one had noticed his departure. Noticing also for the first time the dead soldiers lying near the opposite door, I was instantly concerned for his well-being.

"Did anyone witness his capture?" I asked worriedly.

Again the shaking of heads as each looked from one to the other and then back at me. This situation was making less sense all the time. How could they capture someone the size of Jontue without being seen? Moreover, why did they capture Jontue when they didn't attempt to capture Loté or me?

"Wary, when the attack began, where was Jontue?" I asked.

"He was sitting right across from me," Brae quickly answered.

"Are you sure of that, Brae? You're sure he didn't get up and go into the food prepping room before the soldiers attacked?" I pressured her, hoping she might recall the events more clearly during the commotion if I did.

"He couldn't have," Wary piped up in her defense. "If he had gone into the food prepping room, he would have run head on into the soldiers."

"Maybe he did. Maybe they caught him off guard and silenced him before he could yell a warning to the rest of us," Linit added in Jontue's defense.

"Does anyone know if any of the soldiers retreated, or are these the only ones that anyone saw?" I asked suspiciously.

"We killed them all! None escaped," said Keazar with conviction.

"So did we," I said softly as the realization sank in that just maybe there weren't any other soldiers.

"Maybe Jontue's body is in the food prep room and we can recycle him!" said Lute excitedly, starting hurriedly toward the opening that led down a short hall to the room in question.

"Don't bother, Lute. You won't find any more bodies," I said assuredly.

Lute stopped short at the sound of my voice. Turning to look at me, I could see the question forming in his mind. The others seemed to understand immediately what Lute was having a hard time deciphering.

There wasn't any need to vocalize what I was thinking. It was apparent to everyone that Jontue had just attempted a coup on the 'as of yet to be born' government for the planet of Heälf. It was clearly Jontue's belief that with us out of the way, he and his little army would be a natural shoe-in to take our places. He must have been weeding out converts as he recycled the incoming bodies. Assigning them duties in the recycling lab would have been easy for him, and they would be near here when the time came that he needed them. He had probably planned on waiting until we were separated and more vulnerable. However, when I announced my decision to stay, he suddenly realized that he had to move the timetable up. He must have decided that, with the good spirits and party atmosphere, he would catch us off guard.

The young woman we asked in the cavern to bring us food was probably the one and same that had carried Jontue's orders to his impromptu rebels. If we could recycle a body, it would only take a minute to learn how close to the truth my theory was.

However, if it turned out that I was wrong about Jontue, I had just done his memory a grievous dishonor. Considering the circumstances, I was sure that he would understand and find a way to forgive me.

"Keazar," I said urgently, "What is the absolute minimum amount of time that it will take to get one of these soldiers far enough along in the recycler so that we can pry some information out of him?"

"Let me see," he said slowly, looking over the dead soldiers' bodies before pointing at one in particular. "If we get this one to the lab right now, before his body has a chance to cool any more than it already has, well," he hesitated a long moment as he scratched his chin and did some quick calculations in his head. When he spoke again, it was directed more toward himself than to any of us. "His wounds appear to be the least serious..."

"Least serious?" I asked incredulously, interrupting his train of thought and drawing a disapproving glance from him. When he didn't immediately reply, I self-consciously continued, defending my abrupt outburst. "He's dead, Keazar. Does a wound get any more serious than that?"

"In terms of seriousness, I am referring only to the extent of the tissue damage that has been done and not to the degree that he, like all the others, is dead." As understanding of the motive behind my questions suddenly became evident to him, he exclaimed, "Oh, of course, now I understand! Please forgive me, but sometimes I forget that you have not been living in the subsurface for very long. When you have lived for as many centuries as I, you too will grow familiar with recycling, probably as familiar as those of us that have been living beneath the planet's surface, and are fondly familiar with all of its quirks and anomalies. Please forgive me. It is very rude of me to continually forget that. But I am so comfortable with all of you that I sometimes forget how recently it is that we have met."

"I'll forgive you when you answer my question," I replied a bit shortly.

Because of the pain in my side and the cuts to my hands, despite Keazar's poignant apology, my patience was growing thinner by the minute. Yet, I knew that unleashing my discomfort on Keazar wasn't fair of me, especially considering the situation. He and Jontue had shared a closeness that had been built over a large span of time. It was callous and demeaning of me not to be showing him more consideration and sympathy over the loss of his friend.

The bleeding from the wound in my side had subsided to little more than a trickle, but the pain was still immeasurable, causing my entire side to feel as if it were on fire. The cuts to the insides of my fingers also made it difficult to clench my hands into fists. To hold a knife with them would be extremely difficult. Furthermore, it would be impossible to wield one with any accuracy. They would need time to heal before I would be any good in a fight. Time that I was afraid, we didn't have. What little time we did have was rapidly dwindling and soon, more soldiers than we could reasonably defend against were due to arrive.

Although we had nothing more than the statements of fleeing refugees to go on, there was a palpable sense of urgency growing among us. Not anything solid or substantial, it was simply a feeling of foreboding intuition. And I was sure that Loté was feeling the same way as I, and her feelings were never wrong. Or at least that is what she would have me and the rest of the population on the planet believe.

"I can bring him back to a point where we can wake him and question him, but he will not be able to live outside the incubator," Keazar soberly replied.

"I'm sorry if I sounded short with you earlier, my friend," I quickly apologized before continuing. "But where this soldier is concerned, I really don't give a damn if he can't live outside the incubator! Just tell us, how long it will take to bring him around to where we can question him?"

"Two days Earth time, three on the outside," he quickly answered. Then, in a slower, more thoughtful tone of voice, he added, "I understand, my friend. No offense taken."

"Good, because I didn't mean any," I said softly. And then, speaking with a sense of urgency, I quickly continued, "Okay, let's do it! Wary, give me a hand with the body. Loté, take Elsa with you, and any other servants that haven't run off, and procure enough food and supplies for a group of our size to hold off an extended siege in the recycling lab. Lute, secure all the weapons from the rest of these corpses, and bring them along to the labs. We'll distribute them among any of the servants that are willing to stay here with us. Don't forget to gather those from the cavern, also. You'll find them near the pool. Linit, you'll assist Keazar. I suggest that the two of you get started for the lab. We'll be along shortly with the body."

"What about me?" Brae timidly asked from where she stood behind Wary.

"You can help Loté and Elsa with the food and supplies. If there's time, come back for more. At this point, we don't have any idea how long we may have to hold up in there. I don't want anyone starving to death or dying of thirst."

"What are you and I going to do after we get to the labs?" Wary asked as he roughly grasped the dead soldier's feet.

"Go easy on him, my good man!" Keazar quickly cautioned as he hurriedly went through the doorway with Linit close behind him. "We don't want to hurt him any worse than he already is!"

"Yeah, right," I said angrily beneath my breath, mentally weighing the consequences against the satisfaction that I would derive from dropping the soldier's head on the stone floor.

Tempting as the thought was, I restrained myself. Instead, I heeded Keazar's warning, and proceeded with extra care, handling the body in such a manner so that it didn't incur any extra bumps or bruises along the way.

We hadn't gone very far with the lifeless body, when I felt a warm sensation running down my side. Immediately, I realized that the strain of carrying the soldier's limp form between us had caused the blood clots, which barely had time to congeal, to burst open. Judging by how far the warmth flowed down my side, I could tell without needing to look that the bleeding was heavier than it had been prior. Although I put on a brave front, pretending to be ignorant of the blood, there could be no mistaking Wary's nervous and concerned glances toward my side. His face did nothing to conceal his anxiety. Yet, he wisely kept his thoughts to himself.

After we deposited the body in an incubator, I instructed him to follow me to the control room. The control room was situated just to the right of the door leading back out to the main hallway. It was a glass-walled room that ran the length of the lab and looked out upon row after row of incubator capsules. Inside the control room were all the controls and monitors that governed all the recycling processes. It was also the room that Loté and I had first made love in after being recycled just days earlier. Already it was feeling like years since we had succumbed to Keazar's little joke of putting an aphrodisiac in the air supply. He should have known that we wouldn't have been able to resist each other when we regained consciousness, with or without his aid. The benches didn't feel half as hard then as they looked now.

When we were both inside, he came and stood beside me. We watched Keazar and Linit through the clear glass walls as they busied themselves connecting all the wires and tubes that needed to be connected to the dead soldier's body. Watching them, I knew they were too preoccupied to be paying any attention to Wary and me. However, when they were finished out there, they would come into the control room to make all their final adjustments, calculating and adjusting all the knobs and dials that would set everything into motion. Before they came back inside, though, I needed to have a few words with the one man that I knew with certainty I could still trust.

Wary knew immediately that I had asked him to join me in the control room so that we could speak in private as he hesitantly asked of me, "What's up, Rod? You wanted to speak to me alone. You have to believe me when I tell you that I have no idea regarding what's going on."

"I believe you, Wary. That's the main reason that I need to talk to you," I said seriously before hesitating for a moment, unsure exactly how I should proceed.

Of my trust in Wary, I had no doubts. I wanted to share that same trust with the others, but for the moment, I wasn't sure that I could. Out of fear of saying something that would upset and alienate him, I felt as though I were walking a narrow path, each side of which lay immanent danger and peril. Would he understand if I told him that I didn't know whom we could trust among the others? Or would he take offense at my comment and become angry with me? After everything we had been through together, imagining that Jontue could possibly have betrayed us was very difficult. Nevertheless, I was sure that he had. And that idea opened up a plethora of other less desirable thoughts, the least of which was, who else is in on it?

Cautiously, I went forward, putting voice to my troubling thoughts. "Wary, they awakened you before Loté and me. During that time, did you see or hear anything suspicious between Keazar and Jontue? Or, for that matter, between Jontue and anyone else?"

"You can't possibly believe that Keazar and Jontue are in on this together, can you?" he spouted, flabbergasted by my insinuation.

"I don't know who or what to suspect, Wary. I was just hoping that maybe, since you were around Jontue more than I was, you might have seen or heard something. You know, something that seemed insignificant at the time but now on retrospect might have some relevance to what is happening here." Then, realizing the turmoil he was going through, I quickly added before he could protest, "Don't take me wrong, Wary. I'm just having a hard time believing that Keazar, who has been a good friend of Jontue's for many eons, could have been taken in so easily by him."

Wary looked thoughtful for a moment as he scoured his memory. He was running through his memories of the last few months, while him and Brae, having been revived while Loté and I were still in the recycling capsules, had been living with Keazar and Jontue.

After a long moment, he finally said, "Thinking back on it, I couldn't really say. Most of the time they were both gone. We were extremely busy, recycling bodies that were coming in from everywhere faster than the limited resources could handle them. Because Brae and I spent a lot of our time retrieving corpses and taking them to the different labs for recycling, I can't say as we had much contact with either one of them."

"Did Keazar and Jontue work together for the most part?" I asked suddenly, the bud of an idea beginning to form in my head.

"Oh, not at all," he quickly answered. "Because they were always in different areas commandeering the different labs, they rarely saw each other."

"Then, it's possible after all," I said more to myself than aloud, "that Keazar had no idea what Jontue was really doing."

Wary, having overheard me due to the silence in the control room, affirmed what I was thinking. "Keazar was only concerned with recycling bodies. Because of the limited number of capsules available, we were forced to reject the more damaged and decomposed bodies in favor of those that wouldn't require as long in the machines. We just assumed that Jontue was struggling in the other labs to do the same."

"I have no doubt now that Jontue was struggling to do the same. However, for entirely different reasons, I'm afraid."

Keazar and Linit finished their preparations on the corpse and reentered the control room. Looking at Wary, I gave him a signal with my eye, indicating that our conversation wasn't over yet. He winked at me, showing he understood. He had read my thoughts and we were, hopefully, in accord.

"We'll have him up and talking in no time," stated Keazar proudly, as he made his final adjustments to the controls, and then stood back to check his work.

"Good. I have many questions for him," I said, before softening my tone and adding, "Keazar, you and Jontue go way back..."

Keazar interrupted me with his boisterous laugh and said, "We go farther back than you could ever imagine. What wonderful stories, I could tell you about our adventures together. You know, in the early days, before recycling became commonplace, life really meant something," he said, about to embark on a tale that might not end before the next millennium.

At the risk of hurting his feelings, I abruptly cut him off with the question, "Did you ever suspect that Jontue aspired to being more than just your right-hand man?"

"Never!" he remonstrated loudly and without hesitation. Then, after considering my comment for a long minute, he soberly added, "But if he had, he would never have hurt any of his friends to achieve it. That is just not in his nature!"

Obviously, he wanted to believe what he was saying as strongly as he wanted us to believe him, but an inkling of doubt was slowly chipping away at his countenance. My question did nothing more than to bring that doubt to the forefront of his mind. I felt a pang of sorrow for him. The feeling of betrayal by his close friend of so many years must have shaken him to his very foundation. He would not have surprised me if he had adopted an attitude of denial, or one of complete resistance to my questions and me.

If he did though, I hoped that it would not be the latter, because I still needed to ask him more questions. The keys to leading this planet into a future that was free from dictators and wars were in the answers to my questions, and he was the man with the answers. Or at least, I hoped for mankind's sake, he had the answers that I needed.

"I need to ask you some more questions, Keazar," I said gently. "Please don't misunderstand me; I know the pain that you must be feeling."

"No, please ask. I will gladly try and answer your questions as best I can, my friend," he replied, trying to sound as much like his old self as he could muster of it.

"First, let me begin with the obvious," I said slowly. "While Loté and I were still in the recycling capsules, you and Jontue were busy recycling bodies. How many bodies would it have been possible for Jontue to have recycled in the other labs without your absolute knowledge?"

Before he could answer, I continued quickly, "What I'm trying to figure out, I guess, is just how large of an army he could have resurrected since he was himself, recycled?" I finally blurted out.

"That is an easy one," he almost chuckled as his demeanor began to reflect the old Keazar that we all knew and loved. "Let me check the tally. The computers, you see, keep a running record of these things," he continued talking as he started pushing buttons on one of the many control panels.

"In the early days, when Jontue and I were building our labs, we had a very limited amount of room below the planet's surface. There was a very limited amount of room, that is, in which human life could be sustained. As Lord Thar's slaves mined the precious metals and gems, they continued building more tunnels and caverns. Meanwhile, though, we had to keep a close tab on the population down here. Of course, back then, we hadn't counted on the sterilizing effect that recycling would have on the general population. If we had known about that little anomaly in the beginning, we would have realized that we didn't have anything to worry about, not in that respect, anyway.

"As more space was opened up, the Lords naturally needed more people to populate it. Unfortunately, their only alternative was to get these extra people from the surface, where the tribes were growing almost too fast for their own good." He paused for a moment, and when he continued his voice had taken on a serious tone. "If I hadn't been so blinded by what I thought was a good thing, I would have realized sooner, the cruelty of these violations against humanity. With life so easily renewed, not only was much of its value lost, but unfortunately, the quality of that life was also diminished."

"It's not your fault that so many people suffered so many indignities, Keazar. You thought you were helping them. How could you know that there would be those who would exploit your knowledge and services? You had no way of knowing that there were men who lacked your morals. It wasn't a sin to be naive of the men that harbored no qualms concerning the cruelties that they inflicted upon the less fortunate for their personal gain."

Keazar had stopped and was staring at a monitor as he waited for it to spit out the information that he had requested of it. He stood, looking despondent, so unlike the Keazar we all knew and loved. He was reeling under the weight of having received a tremendous blow to his psyche. For centuries, he had thought that what he was doing was for the good of humankind. He hadn't allowed himself to consider the possibility that the bodies he recycled were anything but deceased inhabitants, virtually scraped from the planet's surface before they could be incinerated by the rising sun. He always believed that if not for his and Jontue's efforts, the bodies would become just so much ash beneath the continually scouring inferno.

As he continued staring at the monitor, he reflected on the time when he and Jontue had been surface dwellers, more than three thousand Earth years ago. He remembered the constant battle that they had waged in order to stay ahead of the rising inferno. An inferno that was relentless in its own personal quest to annihilate every living thing in its path as the planet slowly revolved around a sun that loomed much too close.

He remembered quite fondly also, the lush green jungle and the deep warm pools of clear water. The jungle grew as swiftly as the western horizon cooled, supplying the nomad population with everything that was necessary for survival. But it, too, was always just one step ahead of the sun.

The sky over Heälf was lit exclusively by the reflection of its sun off the twin moons that maintained an equidistant orbit. The side facing away from the sun remained in a state of constant twilight; it never grew lighter or darker unless you moved toward the horizon. Compared to this constant twilight, the artificial lighting in the hallways beneath the planet's surface was considerably brighter.

For the planet to make one complete rotation around the sun took six month's by a standard of time established on a planet called Earth. This meant that since most of Heälf's surface dwellers had to rely on their own two feet for transportation, they were walking a distance equal to one fourth the circumference of planet Earth's every six months. And not only did they have to cover this great distance on foot, carrying all their belongings and supplies with them, but all of this distance had to be traversed through a terrain of dense heavy jungle. If they fell behind, and the infirm and elderly did with some regularity, they were retrieved by the air patrol, or Keazar's bounty hunters, or the planet's sun eventually consumed them.

All the tribes were nomadic out of necessity and constantly traveling in the same direction. Since there were no territorial disputes, fighting and warring among the various tribes was a very rare occurrence. Except for special events or trading missions, very seldom did one or more tribes even meet. If and when they did, it would be a cause for celebration and an opportunity to exchange gossip, not to do battle.

It was also considered a great boon for a tribe if the men of another tribe impregnated their women. By doing so, they were able to diversify their respective gene pools. It was a very common practice among many smaller tribes to welcome lone males to join them for a time. If welcomed, they would be treated to all their women that were still able to bear children. The other men of the tribe generally tolerated this practice. At least until such guests had performed to their satisfaction. When the leader of the tribe determined this, they would drive their temporary guest back into the jungle. Most times, he was driven off with nothing more than what he could steal at a moment's notice.

Unfortunately, for many tribes, the same solitary male guests that they took in were generally outcasts from other tribes, usually due to genetic defects, sterility, or worse. A tribe would tolerate retardation for as long as the retarded one didn't put any extra burdens on the tribe. However, a member that was caught stealing or lying would not be tolerated, and these generally comprised the bulk of the men that were traveling alone.

And then there were the rogue bands, usually comprised of dissidents and criminals that couldn't adapt to life in a socially acceptable manner. Too lazy or domineering to do their own hunting and scavenging, the rogue men and women preyed on other tribes for both food and entertainment. They kidnapped everything from children to women to men, whatever their selfish needs required at the moment. They were a ruthless bunch that kept slaves for both work and entertainment. Young women were preferential.

"My good man!" said Keazar in disbelief as he suddenly put his face closer to the monitor.

"What is it?" I queried, a sudden pang of concern coursing through my veins at the tone of his voice.

"All this while, I thought that I was aware of all the labs that we'd managed to get up and running. But now..." his voice trailed off in disbelief as he continued staring at the information on the monitor.

"Tell us, Keazar. What are you seeing?" I pressed urgently.

"Originally," he started, his voice shaking with excitement. "There were five labs up and running at full capacity. In addition to the two here, there were the two in Lord Thar's old domain and the one in Lord Balzar's old domain. But this doesn't make any sense! According to this, six labs are up and running at full capacity!"

"I don't have the slightest idea, Keazar, but what does that equate to in numbers of potential soldiers?" I asked, feeling more depressed by the second as the importance of what he was saying began to sink in.

"If this is correct, there have been more than six hundred recyclees done since the labs have come back on line. Our five labs only account for about two hundred of them!" he answered breathlessly.

"They must have recycled the soldiers that attacked us earlier in Jontue's lab. Fortunately, he probably wasn't able to recycle any more than that small group without drawing attention to his actions," I said excitedly. "They were probably just the point guard. But I have a bad feeling about the other labs, my friends. It's possible that four hundred soldiers or more are marching this way as I speak," I said, the anger setting my blood boiling in my veins.

"And they'll keep coming unless we go to them!" said Wary suddenly.

I had become so wrapped up in my own depressing thoughts that I had all but forgotten that Wary was still standing beside me until he spoke. As I looked up out of my thoughts, I noticed that Loté and Elsa were coming in through the lab doors with several other servants close behind them. All were carrying armloads of supplies that ranged from sacks of ground meal to jugs of water. I felt my confidence swell as I saw Loté and the trim firm body that she carried so elegantly. She looked like a mean fighting machine with her long, wild black hair and the set of knives strapped over either hip. Feeling my manhood rising at the sight, I quickly redirected my attention back to Wary's words.

"We need to get to those other labs and stop them from turning out more soldiers. Or at least stop the men in command of them from using the poor recyclees coming out of them for their own end. It's also the last thing they would expect from us," he said excitedly with anticipation.

"You may have an idea there, Wary," I said appraisingly. "But how do you propose we keep the labs here secure in our absence. If they figure out that we've left, they'll also figure out in a hurry that there is only one of two places we would go. They'll probably assume that either we're making a run for the surface, which isn't such a bad idea, or we're flanking them in order to get to their labs and shut them down. I'm afraid the only way we'll be able to make this work is if we can figure out how to convince them that we're still here."

"I can stay with Linit and several servants," Keazar quickly piped up. "Wary and Brae could take several servants with them and go for two labs while Loté and you take the rest of the servants and go after the other two labs. Then you can rejoin each other and set out after the remaining two. It's risky, but we don't have much for an alternative. We cannot hold off an army in these two labs forever. Eventually, we will run out of food and water."

"I know, I know," I stated quickly. "There is one major flaw with your plan, however, Keazar."

"What is that, my good friend?" he asked, sounding slightly rebuffed.

"You're the only one who knows the tunnels well enough to lead us to these other labs, especially if we are to avoid the oncoming armies at the same time," I flatly replied.

"I could draw a set of maps for you to use."

"Maps of what?" asked Loté as she came up and gave me a quick hug.

She and Brae had deposited the foodstuffs and supplies on a pile near the door where they had entered. The servants had quickly busied themselves finding places to store it where it would be safe and yet out of the way.

"Keazar suggested that he draw us a set of maps so that we can find the other labs that are recycling soldiers," I answered her. Then I quickly explained everything that we had discussed, carefully outlining the imminent possibility that there were currently four hundred or more soldiers heading our way. Brae listened to my brief explanation to Loté. I couldn't help notice the way she subconsciously took Wary by the arm and held on tightly to him.

"Then maybe we should do the expected and make that run for the surface," Brae anxiously blurted. "After all, isn't that what we were going to do originally? If we leave now, we can take the supplies and be gone before the soldiers arrive."

"We can't just abandon the rest of humankind and leave them to the whims of a ruthless dictator! Besides, they will eventually hunt us down. It's bad enough that we have to live our lives in a constant state of flux, always on the move to stay ahead of the sun. I couldn't imagine having to keep a constant watch over my shoulder too, waiting for the day that some dictator's soldiers are going to come charging out of the jungle. No, we owe this to the human race as much as we owe it to ourselves. There must be a way," I said determinedly, as I left the thought hanging in the air for someone else to pick up.

There weren't any takers, immediately, but I could see the others mulling over my words. Abashed by my words, Brae didn't say any more about heading for the surface. Whether she reconsidered, because Wary didn't back her up or not, I couldn't be sure. A pang of guilt quickly passed over my thoughts when I realized how glad I was that he hadn't backed her up. I needed Wary with me no matter what kind of plan we eventually came up with; that is, if we came up with a plan at all. It would have been a lie if I had said that I wasn't just a little worried about Brae working on him; in time, he might change his mind about staying. Together as a group, we had a chance, slim though, it might be. However, if we started disbanding and going our separate ways, we would only be making ourselves more vulnerable. If I could show Brae how obvious that was, then she might be convinced to stay. And Wary wouldn't leave without her.

Lute showed up with several more servants and the weapons that he had retrieved from the dead soldiers. He seemed nervous and edgy as he deposited the knives and long-knives by the remaining mound of food and supplies. Looking from one to the other of us as he sauntered over, he knew something had changed since he had left to gather the weapons. It was un-disguisable on our respective faces. He was nervous also because of the way we had come upon him, having been a soldier himself, not that long ago. It would not surprise me if he thought we were suspecting him of being in league with Jontue.

As I was about to address Lute's concerns, Loté suddenly surprised us all with her declaration of war. With no warning whatsoever, she began, "As a woman that has been recycled, my loins will no longer bear me children. I feel strongly that this makes it my responsibility to the rest of the women of the world to protect them from these ruthless fanatics. Savages that can waste human life so indiscriminately cannot be allowed to share the same space as decent people, whether it is on the surface of this planet or beneath it. It is only common sense that says eventually, when all the women of Heälf have been recycled, there will be no more babies. With dictators as ruthless and self-serving as Lord's Thar and Balzar, the threat of this becomes a real possibility. We cannot allow a leadership that is so callous that it is immune to the long-term consequences of the human race. Heälf needs a caring hierarchy, one that nurtures its faithful, not exploits them. We need the kind of hierarchy on Heälf that only the likes of decent people such as Rod here can provide. To see our roles in Heälf's future as anything less should be considered irresponsible and immoral!"

That Loté felt this way didn't surprise me. In fact, I was feeling proud that she did. Her speech had a profound effect on everyone, especially Brae. It was as if she had just realized for the first time that she and Wary would not be able to conceive children. We all knew that her ultimate, and I suspected only goal, was to wed Wary so that they could raise a family. The change that came over her almost shouted what she suddenly felt deep inside; if she couldn't have that family of her own, then, like Loté, she would become a mother to the world. She would nurture it and discipline it as if it, and each inhabitant of it, were her child. Even before she opened her mouth to voice her epiphany, I knew what she was going to say; just as surely as Loté had done, she would denounce the evil that was infecting this planet!

For Brae's decision, I was grateful. However, I was more than thankful to Loté for her inspiring speech. She had seen the dilemma facing me without needing to be told of it, and had grasped the correct solution to resolve it. Yet, even more important, as a woman she knew exactly what to say in order to persuade Brae to remain with us. A great weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I knew without a doubt now that Wary was going to be here to back me up in whatever I decided that we should do.

As Brae reiterated on Loté's speech, we all gave her our full attention. When she finished, the women hugged each other and made promises of undying support. The mood was quickly growing uncomfortable for the men, and Lute was eager to know what we had learned in his absence.

"So," I started slowly. "Has anyone come up with any ideas about how we can rid this planet of the evil scourge that has been growing in it?"

"There is something we can try," Keazar hesitantly volunteered. "It has never been done successfully to my knowledge, but it just might be worth a try."

"Pray, do tell us, Keazar? Anything is worth considering," I encouraged.

"There may be a way to keep all of us here to protect the labs and yet, at the same time, we could all attack the other labs, too."

"Well, tell us, my good man! Don't keep us hanging here in suspense!" I said excitedly, aware of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth.

"Clones!" he shouted excitedly, the smile breaking into a broad grin. "I can make a clone of each one of us!" When everyone grew silent at his words, his own demeanor grew serious, and he solemnly continued, "I cannot warn you strongly enough about the dangers, but under the circumstances, I feel the risks might be worth it."

"What could be more dangerous than sitting here waiting for several hundred soldiers to arrive that are intent on killing us?" I asked with equal seriousness.

Meanwhile, the excitement was beginning to boil in each of us; everyone was clinging hungrily to his every word.

"In all of our previous attempts at cloning versus recycling, we have always come up against the same stumbling block," he said ever more seriously, the smile slowly turning to a frown.

"What would that be?" I asked impatiently, a fear of failure and false hope rising in my chest; I feared that he didn't really have a feasible idea at all.

"I will explain it as best as I can in laymen's terms," he said soberly, glancing slowly from one to the other of us. "A human being has but one soul. As near as my research shows, when a body dies, the soul remains in a state of limbo. It stays in this state of limbo until such time that the body reaches a stage of decomposition that nothing remains but ashes. We're not sure where the soul goes then, but for our purposes, it is lost forever. When we recycle the body before it reaches such an advanced stage of decomposition, the original soul returns to its former host." He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "However, when we make a clone in the recycling capsule, and the original host is still alive, there is no soul in which to inhabit it. At least, there is not a soul from this world, to inhabit it!"

### **3**

I wasn't quite sure what Keazar meant when he said that clones had no souls, but I didn't like the sound of it. Loté's hand involuntarily tightened on my arm; she didn't like the sound of it either. If Keazar was concerned, there had to be a good reason for it.

"How long will it take to make clones of us?" I asked of him, the need for urgency pressing in on my thoughts.

His face suddenly lit up, as he realized that I intended to give him a chance to show off his skills. Looking at me, a broad grin turning up the sides of his mouth, he said smoothly, "That is entirely up to you."

"I don't get it. How can we possibly have anything to do with how long it will take to make clones of us? Isn't that your department?" I asked skeptically.

"Yes it is, my friend," he answered proudly. "Let me explain the process further. So that I don't confuse you with all the technical jargon, let it suffice to say that the cloning process is as simple as the recycling process. In fact, it follows the same principles and procedures almost exactly. Exactly, that is, up to the point of resuscitation. In the same manner that we can recycle a body in considerably less time when the tissue damage is less severe, it also follows that the more tissue material that we have to start the process with, the quicker we will have a living, breathing body in the incubator capsule."

"You're not making any sense, Keazar," Wary said suddenly, looking perplexed. "Can you explain it in words that we all understand?"

"In other words, the more body tissue that you are willing to donate, the sooner you will have an identical twin. Minus your soul, of course," he added with a smirk.

"If we are to understand you correctly," Loté started, sounding disgusted. "You want a piece of our flesh?"

"Not exactly 'want', my dear friends, but rather, 'need'. That is, of course, if you are still interested in this whole scheme of things," he added smugly. "Whatever you decide," he began in a very serious tone of voice, "I feel I must strongly caution you about your decision. When I say these creatures will have no souls, I mean just that. They will look exactly like their host, even thinking alike and sharing their hosts' memories, to a degree. However, after that, the resemblance ends. They will not possess any of your morals, but instead, as we discovered in earlier experiments, they lean more toward a degenerate nature. Compared with some of our earlier experiments, even Lord Balzar looks like a saint. No, my good friends, I cannot state my feelings strongly enough; this may not be the answer you are seeking." He hesitated for a moment, confident that we wouldn't change our minds, before adding, "But I will help in any manner that I can."

"We don't have any other choice, Keazar," Wary said, speaking up from his position behind me.

"Then, please, I will need at least an ear, finger, or toe from each of you," he replied almost too quickly.

For just a fraction of a second, I had the feeling that he had sold us on this plan while only pretending to be cautious and afraid of it. Feeling nervous and weak from the loss of blood, I disregarded the notion as a symptom of my ordeal. Instead, I listened intently to him as he continued telling us exactly what he needed from each of us.

"If you can handle any more pain, please, feel free to indulge. When you are finished removing as much as you can bear, I have some salve available to treat your wounds. The salve will also help your body to regenerate the missing tissue. Within a couple of days, you won't even realize that you've suffered from self-inflicted wounds. But if you're afraid that you won't be able to handle the pain, I will make some local anesthetic available to you that Linit can administer."

While handing out the salve in small clear packets, he gave us each individual instructions regarding its use depending on the size and locality of our selected wounds. We added a generous supply of the packets to the travel gear that the servants were putting together for the trip. Beyond the missing appendages, what else we were apt to encounter on our journey was anyone's guess.

For the most part, we sacrificed our smallest digits from our hands and feet. We were all prepared to shave our heads for the cause, but as Keazar was quick to point out, hair was of little value for the purposes intended because of the length of time that it had already been dead. After explaining the useless status that our testicles had acquired for us due to the sterilizing process of the recycler, Lute and Wary followed my lead and sacrificed their testicles as well. Of course, this was only after Keazar promised us many times over that the salve would force our bodies to regenerate the missing symbol of our manhood; we would only appear as eunuchs for a short while.

The pain of the wounds, including the knife wound in my side, quickly subsided with the application of the salve. Within minutes, we could feel the regeneration process beginning, as the salve first warmed, and then soothed the flesh surrounding the wounds. Aside from some minor pain and a little itching, it was impossible to tell that we had even cut ourselves. Out of fear that I would tear my scabs open, Loté scolded me several times after catching me subconsciously scratching at the wound in my side. There was an even greater risk that I might infect the wound with my filthy hands, if I didn't learn to leave it alone. Luckily, it wasn't long before the healing process had advanced beyond the itching stage and I was able to control my urge to scratch.

Keazar busied himself setting up the capsules with our respective body parts, while I double-checked the supplies that we would be taking with us. Because we couldn't count on the food lockers lining the main hallways for fresh supplies, we would have to carry everything that we might possibly need. Due to all the migrating soldiers and slaves that had moved through the hallways after the cataclysm, I was sure that all the food lockers would be ransacked and plundered of their contents. Once we reestablished the bureaucracy, it would become part of their responsibility to replenish the lockers, keeping them stocked for the many travelers that would be using the hallways again. Unfortunately, that time was a long ways into the future.

As reassuring as it was to have Keazar coming along with us, I had to remind myself that it wasn't going to be like the old days. The days of using his inex key to magically open a panel in the hallway and reveal a stash of food and water were over.

Due to the urgency of our mission, we couldn't wait around for the soldier in the incubator to regain consciousness. Thus, it bothered me that we wouldn't have an opportunity to question him before leaving. With so many questions left unanswered, we were taking a much larger risk. However, it was immensely more important that we be gone from here before the advancing army could trap us. Instead of grieving over the lost opportunity, I consoled myself with the fact that he was nothing more than a lowly soldier. As such, he probably didn't know any more than we had already learned from the refugees.

Satisfied with the quantity of food and water, plus the few other items that we were taking along, I went in search of Loté. I was curious to see if she had any luck in finding the special ingredients that were necessary to make the rubber nutrient rocks. The rubber rocks seemed like such a trivial item, but they had proven their value to me a long time ago when Loté and I had first met.

"Yes, thanks to Elsa," she answered excitedly. "She was able to come up with the ingredients that I had been unable to locate in the food prepping room. Unfortunately, I was only able to secure enough raw ingredients to make about a pound. Yet, even that is more than I could have hoped for, all things considered."

When she combined all the ingredients, they acquired a consistency similar to that of hard rubber. Next, she would roll this mixture into 'balls', approximately one inch in diameter. These 'balls' were then dried and stored in an airtight container. It was necessary to store them thus, or the naturally high humidity in the air would cause them to become moldy, making them unfit for human use. After chewing on the 'rubber rocks' for a short while, the acidic juices that formed in the mouth would draw out the nutrients. These nutrients, in turn, would nourish the body, giving it the strength to endure beyond its normal limits. One of the greater side effects of the nutrient rocks was their ability to quench one's thirst. They were our lifesavers once, and I was glad that we would have them at our disposal again. Although we only had approximately a pound of the precious material, they could be dried and reused repeatedly.

Keazar and Linit were still busy with the instruments when I asked Wary if he had any suggestions concerning who should remain behind. Someone needed to remain behind to manage the clones when they emerged from the incubator capsules. Keazar, upon overhearing me, stopped what he was doing and came over to stand facing Wary and myself.

"I do not believe that it would be a wise thing, my friend, if we were to leave someone behind that is also a host of one of the clones," he stated seriously.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"From past experiments that I have personally overseen, I learned early on that the emerging clones were somehow aware of their lacking condition. We were never quite able to learn for sure, but we assumed, based on the evidence of the research, that the clones wanted the hosts' souls for their own. We further deduced that they believed the only way they could get their hosts' souls was by killing their hosts. Unfortunately, my friends, our research never progressed to that point. You see, we never allowed the clones to literally kill their hosts."

"I must say, Keazar, knowing you the way I do, I'm a bit surprised at that. Would you mind telling me why?" I asked, more than a little bit surprised that they hadn't allowed their experiments to go any further than they had.

"Because I was the primary host, my good friend, and I was not ready to see where my conscious being would be taken if I allowed a clone to kill me." Then, with a sigh, he added, "And it probably wouldn't be very wise for any of you to allow it to happen either."

"At some point in the future, if our plans go as we hope they must, we will come back here," I said with concern in my voice. "Are you saying that when we do, we'll have to kill the clones that are here before they can kill us?"

"Yes. That is exactly what I am saying, I'm afraid. One other thing that I should probably mention also," he added, sounding deathly serious. "We can only hope that they will still be here when we return." He hesitated for a moment while he studied our faces. When we didn't immediately say anything, he slowly continued. "It's very possible that in their demented state, they will leave the labs and come hunting for our souls. I'm sure you will all agree that we will have enough to contend with, without that too."

Once again, I got the feeling that he wanted to say something more, but instead, decided against it. "Now, if you're still certain that this is what you want to do, I must finish my final adjustments."

"I know what the hell I'm doing! I'm getting the hell out of here!" spoke up one of the servants suddenly. With nothing more for them to do, several of the servants had wondered over and were standing in a tight group within listening distance of us. Having overheard Keazar's last comment, they had grown fearful of what we intended to do.

"Where do you think you can go?" I asked of him, concerned that he might start a panic among the others.

"I'm going to the surface the quickest way I can find! It's been a long time since I've been there, but I've heard it's still pretty damn nice," he answered without hesitation before nervously adding, "And there aren't any clones up there that want our souls!"

"Yeah, it's pretty damn nice up there," I had to agree. "And yes, you're probably right; there aren't any clones up there, at least none that we're aware of."

I envied him. At least in the respect that I wished it were I standing there, telling the rest of them that I was headed for the surface. Here was a man that didn't owe an allegiance to anyone but himself, and he was doing what came natural; he was looking out for number one. On the other hand, I despised him for his lack of courage. Didn't these people realize that we were only doing what we were for their sakes? As rapidly, as the anger toward this man began to boil up within me, I just as quickly extinguished it. Not everyone was born with a sense of duty toward his fellow beings, and it wasn't fair of me to judge them in that light alone.

"Does anyone else here feel the same way as this man?" I asked loudly. "If you're thinking about going to the surface, I need to know now. He is going and that is his decision. We could use his help down here, but I bear him no ill will. Instead, I wish him luck. If there is anyone else, I suggest that you team up with this man and start getting your supplies together. Keazar," I continued, as he turned to look at me in surprise at what I had just said, "will be glad to get you started in the right direction to the nearest surface shaft."

Wary seemed both surprised and shocked by how guilt free and easy I had made it for the servants to run out on us. He didn't understand why, right now, but soon he would. Wary was a trained and disciplined man that didn't think twice when it came to carrying his fair share of the load. Once he thought about my motives for doing what I had, he would quickly understand. He would see why I didn't want anyone along that couldn't be counted on to carry his or her fair share of the load. What we were doing was for the betterment of all the human population on Heälf. If there were people that couldn't see that, we didn't need them to be amongst our group.

Several more men and women gathered their personal effects together and created their own pile of foodstuffs and water. I envied them their journey, more than they would ever know. However, I knew our journey was a much nobler one.

"Are you sure this is wise, my good friend?" asked Keazar quietly when he finished with the final adjustments to his dials.

"Yes, I am sure of it. They will not be of any use to us and will just slow us and get in the way," I answered him. "Please, just give them directions for the most direct route to the surface, and then we ourselves must be on our way."

Less than a minute later, he had laid out the directions to the nearest tunnel that would eventually lead them to a shaft, which in turn, would lead directly to the surface. He warned them with details of the climb that they would have to face when they reached the shaft. Wary and Brae also gave them some advice that would help them once they reached the surface, since none of them had been there for centuries.

However, all of this advice paled in comparison to Keazar's final warning. The most stressed advice they received came not about the shaft, which they neither heeded nor required, since they were experienced in surviving beneath the surface. Nor did it involve the plight that they would have to confront upon reaching the surface. The advice that Keazar stressed to them was that they could not afford to stray from the tunnel once they entered it. This he emphasized out of fear that if they got lost, they would never be able to find their way back to the right tunnel. However, if they did manage to find their way back to the right tunnel, by the time they reached the surface, the planet may have rotated the opening toward the sun. Several months would have to pass while they waited for the natural rotation of the planet to again turn the opening away from the sun, making it possible for them to exit. Months during which all sorts of calamities could befall them, the least of which was running out of supplies. Supplies they would need to avoid starving to death or, more plausibly, a slow lingering death brought on by dehydration.

Keazar had told them the truth when he gave them the directions to the surface, but he also embellished his warnings to a degree that would frighten them. His personal agenda was to scare them so much that they would stay here in the labs and help monitor the cloning operation or come cowering along with us. Despite his dismay, I was secretly glad that none had changed their minds about going to the surface.

When they had left, Keazar suddenly turned on me. Using a tone of voice that he had never used toward me before, he demanded to know whom I had selected to stay behind, now that I had sent all the servants away.

"I didn't send all the servants away, Keazar," I flatly reminded him, shocked by his rapid change of demeanor. "They chose their own destination like only a free people can."

"You still haven't answered my question, my friend," he sternly repeated. "Who will stay and monitor the cloning operation when we are gone?"

"We will ask for volunteers. If that doesn't work, we will draw straws," I said patiently, turning to face the few remaining servants that had decided to stay with us. "But however we do it, it will be totally of free will. I won't have it any other way!"

"I will stay," spoke up Elsa quickly, before I had a chance to ask for volunteers.

"I will, too," chimed in Lute, suddenly looking abashed as he surprised even himself at how quickly he had volunteered.

"Good," I said appraisingly of them before turning back toward Keazar. "Keazar will give you a quick course on your responsibilities. When you are finished, we will have a meeting to go over the whole plan together so that everyone knows what their respective roles will be in it."

The latter, I said for the benefit of the remaining group of servants, in addition to Lute and Elsa. It was important for everyone to know what was going to be expected of him and her. If any didn't feel that they were up to their assigned task, then it would be better for all concerned that they remain here at the lab. I made this clear to all, while Keazar gave Lute and Elsa a crash course on running the recycling machines. For the clones to have any chance of survival, it was necessary for Lute and Elsa to know what to do during all stages of the process. They were bright individuals and it wasn't necessary for Keazar to have to repeat himself. Within a few moments, they came over from the control panel and rejoined the group to hear the overall plan one last time.

"The crux of the plan is going to be in maintaining control of these two labs while simultaneously managing to slip past the oncoming army of soldiers. It won't do any of us any good if we manage to take control of the two labs near each of the former Lord's domains, only to be blindsided from this end," I started quickly, feeling the urgency to be moving growing rapidly within me.

"According to Keazar, the labs are set up in pairs that are identical to these that we are now occupying. The first ones will also have to be manned by clones before going on to the last ones. We will handle that problem the same way as we are handling it here."

Hesitating, I took a deep breath before continuing. "Keazar assures me that these labs are impregnable to almost everything but the largest of incendiary guns. I'm sure that even if the approaching soldiers have access to such weaponry, they would not be willing to use it in the confines of the tunnels. Such weapons are very dangerous to the people using them, even when they are used in the more spacious hallways. The risk of incinerating themselves beyond the capabilities of the recycling machines is such that it would make the attempt more than a little foolhardy. No, I don't believe they will attempt the use of incendiary guns."

Keazar seemed anxious to add something, so I paused for a moment, giving him a chance to interject.

"Yes, Keazar, do you have something you want to add?" I prodded when he hesitated.

"I was just thinking that before we leave, we should take cloning material from Lute and Elsa. We will need it if we are going to set up the other labs the same way as these. If they will agree to giving us something of themselves, that is."

"Of course," said Elsa quickly. "Anything we can do for the good of all. We will pray for your success," she added hesitantly before continuing. "I just wish that we could go with you. I would derive a great amount of pleasure from being able to strike a blow for the freedom of all people. This is a great day in the history of humankind that is about to unfold; it is unfortunate that more of my fellow rebels are not alive to witness it. Nevertheless, I am sure their spirits will be with you and guide you through your dangerous journey. Fear not for these labs, for they will still be secure, and awaiting your return."

"Thank you, Elsa. For me, and all the people of Heälf, we are indebted to you. It is with thanks to unselfish people like you that we are even afforded the opportunity to make right what has gone so seriously wrong," I said praising her before continuing. "It is time for us to be on our way."

Slowly, we gathered by the remaining pile of supplies still resting near the door, the door that would lead us on a far and dangerous journey. Keazar hurriedly collected the necessary tissue samples from both Lute and Elsa for their future clones and packed them carefully away. There were a few more tearful goodbyes and then hugs all around before we finally made it out the door. There was no turning back now.

With Keazar at my side, I took the lead position. Loté, Linit, and Brae followed us in a small, tight-knit group, busily chattering amongst themselves, while Wary brought up the rear. Our packs were heavily laden with supplies, but being seasoned travelers, we knew that the farther we journeyed, the lighter our loads would become as we consumed the contents. In addition to our personal weapons, which we carried in their usual places, we each had an extra one stashed away in the event of an emergency. This latter weapon was in the form of a long-knife that had been retrieved from the slain soldiers back at the lab. All told, we were carrying more than one hundred pounds of baggage each. I was thankful that we didn't need to pack any fuel for heat or extra clothing to protect us against the elements. The extra weight would have been more than we could have handled.

Despite the turmoil of our feelings concerning Jontue, we were all grateful to him for having taken care of the repairs to the refrigeration system serving the hallways. Without any cooling, we would have dehydrated within feet of the labs. As it was, though, the air conditioning in the hallways made it possible for us to maintain a brisk, mile-eating pace, regardless of the weight that we were packing on our backs.

We had only been traveling for three hours when I decided that we should rest. Except for Keazar, we hadn't even broken a sweat, yet. Nevertheless, I didn't want to risk dehydrating our bodies so soon into the journey. It was better if we paced ourselves and remained fresh and alert for what lie ahead.

Keazar had been silent since leaving the labs, but now he seemed almost anxious to talk, as we sat off by ourselves with our backs to the relative coolness of the wall. Loté had sensed that he wanted to be alone with me and had made a point of drawing Linit off to the side. She further distracted Linit by keeping up a lively conversation consisting of nothing more than small talk so that Keazar and I would not be interrupted.

Brae and Wary, meanwhile, continued advancing farther up the hallway. It was still too early in our journey to be expecting soldiers, but Wary wasn't taking any chances. Not only that, I also think they wanted to be alone.

"I am sorry, my good friend," Keazar said slowly, consciously chewing over each word before releasing it. "I should have been more suspicious of Jontue. If I had only done a simple check on the computer sooner, I would have been alerted to the fact that something was going on."

"It's not your fault that you trusted in an old friend. This world wouldn't be worth living in if we couldn't at least trust in the people that we know," I said placatingly in a feeble attempt to assuage his feelings of guilt. "Besides, if it hadn't been for Jontue finding us in the tunnels when he had, we may not be here today. We had only met him, and still we feel as though we owe him our lives. The debt that you feel personally toward him must be incredible. Thanks to Jontue's efforts, and his deep concern for you, we are still in this fight."

"Yes, I suppose you are right, my friend. My trust was not misplaced, but rather misused," he said as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. "Maybe, when I see him next, I will ask him why he did what he did."

"You never know, Keazar, his answer might just surprise you."

We both took a long drink of water and shook each other playfully by the shoulder. Loté could sense that we had said what needed saying and was on her feet like a cat. Watching her bend over to retrieve her pack from the floor, I couldn't have stemmed the flow of blood into my manhood had I tried. For just an instant, I wished that I had taken her farther up the hall so that we could also be alone. Just as quickly, I put the thought out of my mind. To console a friend in need of comforting was a much higher calling than the selfish act of temporary gratification. When we stopped for our next rest, though, Loté was going to be made fully aware of my feelings!

Standing up, I leaned over and extended a helping hand to Keazar. My manhood was still erect as I turned and reached down for my pack. Noticing it, Loté quickly moved over to my side so that she could whisper in my ear.

"If we had known you two boys were talking dirty, we would have joined you."

Throwing her a wink, I turned away without saying anything, mentally stemming the flow of blood to my penis, and leaving it soft but still enlarged. The insatiable appetite that she stirred in me was beyond description. Sometimes, in the heat of our passion, we would climax simultaneously, and it still wouldn't be enough to appease me. My hunger for her burned deep inside me, driving me mad with desire every time I laid eyes on her.

As a pilot for the Heälf Air Services, I had never found the time in my life to discover the female half of our species. When I wasn't in the skies over Heälf looking for stragglers to rescue, I was asleep, dreaming about flying through the skies over Heälf in search of stragglers. Being a rescue pilot in the Heälf Air Services had been my entire life. To be remembered as one of the best rescue pilots to have ever flown would make me happy.

But with that distinction, comes a lot of responsibility. Until the day that I die, I will be questioning my judgment, or lack thereof, and wondering if I was the cause of my crash. And ultimately, was I the cause of my co-pilot's death? Because I lost my dearest friend when I lost my co-pilot, I will always question my actions, and ultimately, my motives for doing what I had done.

I can't answer those questions, and will probably never be able to. What I do know is that he is dead. His body has become indelible with the surface of the planet. For the rest of my life, I must live with that. I have tried justifying his life by saving Loté's, but I should have been able to save them both. I hope you can forgive me, Lipton.

We continued traveling farther down the hallway for several more kilometers before Keazar stopped us with a wave of his hand. Like well-trained soldiers, we all stopped silently and abruptly.

"What is it, Keazar?" I whispered quietly, fear that he had detected the presence of soldiers in the area that the rest of us had not.

"It is all right, my friend. There is no need for caution. At least, not yet," he replied casually between gulping breaths.

"Then would you mind telling me why you called a halt?" I asked irritably.

Ignoring my irritation, he replied, "We have passed several supply lockers that have not been forced open, at least not visibly so. Since it will take only a moment, I thought I would try my inex key in one and see what we find."

"Good idea. Even if it turns out to be empty, the knowledge that we stand to gain will be worth the effort," I said encouragingly, hiding my former irritation at the delay.

Keazar placed the flat, shiny metal key against a specific spot on the hallway wall. Although I knew the hallways were lined with doors that slid open by applying the shiny metal key, also known as an inex card, it still surprised me to see the ease with which he recognized the specific spots.

I stood looking at the place where he held the key now. Even though I couldn't discern the spot from any other on the wall, I knew that within a moment a door would suddenly slide back in on itself. As sure as I was that the door would slide back in on itself, I was equally sure of what we would find beyond the opening.

The feeling of wasted time was swelling up in me, as I knew we would be looking in on nothing more than a well lit little room with white walls and hermetically sealed storage units. The only difference from the many that we had opened in the past was that we would find the individual units left open and devoid of their contents. What we found instead, I was not prepared for.

Loté let out a gasp as the smell that came rushing out of the locker assailed our nostrils. Everyone reeled backwards, away from the opening, and the reek of decaying flesh. Brae, who had moved up next to Loté, abruptly turned away from the sight inside the locker and began to vomit, her last lunch splashing on the hallway floor.

The unit doors had been left open, just as I had expected them to be. However, beyond that, I was not prepared for what we found. All of the food, or at least most of it, had been eaten by the still remaining occupants. It appeared that several people, two men, and one woman to be exact, had found access to the locker and had closed themselves in. They probably planned to remain in the locker where they felt safe until the catastrophe outside subsided. Unfortunately, with most of the power failing, the hallways, which included the food lockers, had become extremely warm. Whether they had been overcome by extreme heat, or had eaten spoiled food and died of botulism, it was impossible to tell.

Once the power came back on, so did the cooling action of the refrigerant. Instead of continuing to decompose, the bodies were arrested at a stage that left them looking ghoulishly out at us. For a moment, I felt as if we were invading their privacy, as if we had disturbed them in the middle of something only they understood. The skin began crawling on my back as I suddenly felt a rancid revulsion and a stronger desire to be away from this place. However these poor souls had died, they had not left a pretty sight behind.

Keazar suggested that we leave the door open to the food locker so that recycling crews would eventually find them.

"We can't take the time to open all the food lockers as we go, Keazar," I said solemnly. "It would probably be better if we closed it back the way we found it. I say that for two reasons: First, we don't want to leave any sign of our passing that might tip off our location to the advancing soldiers. And second," I hesitated briefly before continuing. "I think it would be best if we leave them sealed in there so they don't decompose any more than they already have. We don't know if or when there will be recycling crews in this area and by the time there are they may be too badly decomposed to save if we don't keep them in the cold.

"Yes, my friend, you are probably right. Even if a recycling crew were to take them to the labs now, Lute and Elsa wouldn't allow them to enter. And even if they did allow them to enter, there isn't anyone there who knows how to run the equipment. At least there won't be anyone there that is capable until our clones are resuscitated," he added soberly.

"I know it's too late to worry about it now, but will Lute and Elsa be able to control the clones after they resuscitate them?" asked Wary skeptically, eager to turn the conversation away from the locker.

"Only time will tell," answered Keazar thoughtfully. "We will know more when we make our own clones of Lute and Elsa at the next lab."

"What exactly do you expect to learn from making clones of Lute and Elsa that you don't already know?" I asked curiously.

"If they behave with the moral constitutions that Lute and Elsa displayed to us back at the other lab, then we will know that we have captured their souls in these new bodies. That can only happen if the original two have been killed," he answered soberly. "Is it necessary for me to explain further?"

"If that happens, we won't have any choice but to kill our clones in order to recapture the labs, will we?" asked Wary.

"Yes, unfortunately."

"So what you're saying then, is that we will have six labs to capture? The original four being used to recycle soldiers, plus the two that we have just left behind?" Wary asked incredulously.

No one said anything for a moment as we digested the thought of having to come back and kill our look-a-likes. Loté broke the silence with a question that started us all wondering if maybe we hadn't outsmarted ourselves before even starting.

"What I would like to know is, after we capture the next two labs, are we still going to go forward with our plan to seed them with our clones? Because if we seed them with clones in the same fashion as we did the last two, are we not just creating a vicious cycle? One in which we must go back around to the labs again, killing the clones that we created so that we can set the labs up with normal hosts. And by normal, I mean human beings that are in rightful possession of their respective souls!" she stated, more than asked, a tone of exasperation in her voice.

"That's what it looks like, based on the information that we now have. However, there is always the chance that our clones will turn out halfway decent. Isn't that also possible, Keazar?" I asked casually, while throwing him a surreptitious wink that only he would notice.

Catching my wink, he deciphered its hidden intent immediately.

"That is true, my friends," he said with false bravado in his voice. "The research that I have based my knowledge on was done with a very biased point of view. After all, the only host used in the research was none other than me."

"In other words, what you're trying to tell us is that with a different host, our clones could end up with an entirely different intellectual makeup! Instead of the immoral slobs created from your tissues, we might just end up with some very charitable characters," I said, trying to sound authoritarian.

"Please, my good friend," he replied, sounding hurt. "Let me remind you that I never said they were immoral slobs. They were just not up to my normally generous standards, is all. Standards, you understand that I would surely have expected from something that was such an unequivocal replica of myself. Quite possibly, the standard that I judged them against might be too high!" When he realized the haughtiness of his statement, he flushed with embarrassment before humbly adding, "I'm sorry, but it was a long time ago and my memory has grown dim with the passing years."

"We'll just have to cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, we need to cover a lot of distance. Worrying about what may or may not happen in the future will only distract us from the task at hand," I said firmly. "Keazar, if you would be so kind as to resume the lead. Let us be off. And, oh, Keazar!" I added, loud enough for everyone to hear, "Pick up the pace a little; we'll have to make up for the lost time. For every minute that we delay, there will be that many more soldiers to confront."

"Yes, my friend," he replied indifferently, his mind still dwelling on the past.

Despite the fact that Keazar was four hundred pounds of over indulgence, he forced himself to set a pace that quickly had the rest of us sweating heavily and breathing hard. We continued this break-neck pace in silence for the better part of six hours. The silence wasn't mandatory, but all were conserving their breath for the march. To replenish the fluids that were dissipating from our efforts, we drank water from our flagons without stopping. As the march continued, the silence surrounding us grew appreciably thicker, as each waited expectantly for me to call a break, or Keazar to pass out from exertion. We were all feeling the effects of the brisk pace, but Keazar was faring the worst. It was only a matter of pride that forced him to continue.

When I was sure that he had reached the end of his endurance, I waved my arm and staggered to a stop against the cool white wall. Before he could slow his breathing enough to argue with me, which he wasn't going to be able to do for some time, I suggested that we include a few hours of sleep before continuing. Nobody protested.

The others had no sooner collapsed to the floor, than they were sound asleep. My amorous mood of earlier was all but forgotten, as I sat with my back pressed against the cool wall, my tired legs stretched out in front of me. None of the others felt amorous either, as they lay widely separated and spread eagle on the relatively cool floor to achieve maximum airflow between their overheated bodies.

Unable to fall asleep as easily as the others, I looked over their sprawled forms and considered our chances of being caught off guard by the advancing soldiers. We were probably still several hours, possibly even days, from any danger of being discovered, yet, I couldn't shake the feeling of vulnerability that I felt when I looked at their lethargic forms.

My own attempt at getting some rest wasn't accomplishing anything. Every time someone stirred, my eyes shot open and my hand went for the knife at my side. Looking at Loté sleeping peacefully on the floor beside me, I felt a moment of envy. Her ability to fall asleep so easily stemmed from her trust in my ability to protect her.

When I finally realized that I wasn't going to get any rest so long as I remained sitting among the sleeping bodies, I got up and shuffled down the hallway. Needing some solitude to think, I wondered forward until I was far enough from the others so that the sound of their snoring wouldn't distract my thoughts. I had gone about fifty yards or so down the hallway and was about to sit down, when I heard the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps.

My choice of action was strictly limited, due to the lack of anywhere to hide. An ambush was totally out of the question, since the hallways were devoid of everything but the stark white of the walls. Although the recessed lights weren't operating at full power, it didn't take much light to accent just how barren the hallways stood. However, they didn't run perfectly straight. In places, there were shafts with ladder rungs set in the walls so that it was possible to move from one level to another.

Looking down the hallways, it was possible to see anywhere from as little as twenty-five feet, if there was a sharp corner directly ahead, to as many as three hundred feet. Of course, three hundred feet of hallway below the planet's surface gave one the illusion of continuing forever. Eventually though, the hallway would gradually arc up or down or wind to the left or right until it was impossible to see beyond the false horizon. Distance from the planet's surface was roughly measured in levels. It was possible to be directly beneath the planet's surface, and still be unable to exit to it, due to the position of the sun. If the sun were over the same hemisphere of the planet at that time, any attempt to emerge on the surface would result in instantaneous death. To reach an exit to the surface could require descending and then ascending through many levels until you passed through the opposite hemisphere of the planet.

Once through the opposite hemisphere, however, you could emerge on the planet's surface in relative safety. At first, the moonlit sky would appear dark to your unaccustomed eyes. However, once they adjusted to the lower light level, you would find yourself beneath the canopy of a dense tropical jungle. After spending many hours in this low light, any skin that was exposed to it would eventually turn a dark, chocolate brown, even though it wasn't nearly as bright as daylight on planet Earth.

From where I was standing, I could look over my shoulder and still see my rag tag group of friends sprawled on the floor. In the other direction, the direction in which we were heading, it was only possible to see another fifty feet beyond where I stood. At that point, the hallway made a gradual sloping turn to the left, winding out of sight.

From instincts born out of spending many hours hunting in the jungle on the surface, I hunkered down low on my haunches and drew my knife, holding it at the ready. The approaching person and I would probably see each other long before we would be close enough for hand-to-hand combat, but I stood at the ready just the same.

Judging from the sound of the footsteps, I knew that it was only one person. There was no sign of hurrying in the sound of the steps. Yet, at the same time, I could tell they weren't dawdling either. The steps were being laid down in such a manner that I was made to think of someone that had a long way to go and was pacing his-self for the journey.

I was still hunkering down on my haunches when Loté slid up quietly beside me. Not having heard her approach, I was both mildly surprised and thankful for her presence.

"Are the others awake?" I asked, barely whispering for fear of alerting whoever was approaching to our presence.

"No. When I awoke, I discovered you were gone and came looking for you. I knew you would be here, studying the direction that we are about to travel. I just thought it would be nice to come and keep you company. The sounds of those footsteps are weird," she added, nodding in the direction of the sound. "If I didn't know any better, I would swear they sounded almost too soft. They don't have the hardness that comes from calluses," she worriedly added.

Instead of responding to her concerns, I softly suggested instead that she return to the others, and alert them of our approaching visitor. She acknowledged me, but remained motionless, hesitant to leave. I harbored no doubt that her hesitation resulted more from a curiosity to see the approaching visitor, than from any desire to stay with me. Finally, she got up and trotted softly back to the others. Faintly, the sounds of their protests at being awakened came drifting back to me. They quickly grew silent as Loté explained the reason for their rude awakening. As one, they drew their weapons and came hurrying down the hallway. They had barely taken up their battle stances when the visitor marched into sight.

### **4**

At the sight of us, he came to an abrupt halt. Rising slowly from my haunches until attaining my full height, I looked straight at him, sizing him up.

He was unarmed and naked, but that was where any shred of commonality stopped. The most striking feature that he displayed was actually a lack of one! Of course, I was only assuming for reasons that I couldn't explain that the being approaching us was male; it had no penis! Nor, for that matter, any sign of genitalia whatsoever!

It smiled openly, displaying a wide mouth full of white even teeth. Yet, it didn't appear friendly so much as it appeared stupid.

After a moment of tense silence, it slowly resumed its forward progress. Instead of the quick-march that it had been doing prior, it came forward at a much more leisurely pace. As it approached, it continued watching our every move, the stupid grin remaining frozen across its face. Silently, it looked right at me. It was beginning to unnerve me.

When it was less than twenty feet from us, and showing no signs of stopping, I raised my hand and, using universal sign language, ordered it to halt. Without saying a word, it drew to an abrupt stop. However, it continued staring at me with that big stupid grin across his face.

I had no reason to fear the pale skinny being, since it was clearly unarmed. In fact, it wasn't carrying anything, not even food or water. He, or more correctly, it, stood at a height of less than six feet, several inches shorter than I. Unlike my two hundred-plus pounds of solid muscle though, this poor creature would be lucky to tip the scales at ninety. It had a complexion of creamy white skin devoid of any blemishes. The only exception to this description was an area just below its navel, surrounding a small, hairless hole. In contrast to its otherwise clean looking body, this area was stained a putrid brown in color. The creature didn't need to turn around for us to know that it also lacked an asshole. We'd seen enough dirty butts to recognize skin that has been stained by feces.

Dark veins encircled its skull just beneath the skin. Upon closer inspection, I could see now that I had been wrong about its lack of hair. Lying thinly across its scalp was a layer of creamy-colored, baby-fine hair.

Yet, its eyes were its most striking features, their immense size, and bright yellow color contrasting so starkly against the whiteness of its teeth.

Not aware of what the others were doing, I was about to signal for Wary to move around and take up a position behind it. Before I could, though, Loté suddenly walked past me, heading straight toward the humanoid thing. Showing no hesitation, she steadily approached it. When the being suddenly reached out and took her breast in its long-fingered hand, she didn't so much as flinch.

"Loté! Stay back from it!" I yelled at her, moving forward to give her cover.

"It's all right, Rod," she dreamily replied, while the being continued to fondle her breast.

Watching in amazement, I carefully stepped around to the side, giving myself an unobstructed view of the proceedings between it and Loté. The creature was thoroughly enjoying the sensation it was getting from fondling her, almost as if it had never seen a woman before. A pang of jealousy passed through me, and then I quickly put it out of my mind. It was completely groundless of me to be jealous of a creature that was even less than a man. It was akin to being jealous of a pet, a lowly animal.

While I was still standing next to her, studying her reaction to the thing's advances, what happened next took all of us by surprise. Unaware that the being had started making a soft gurgling noise, it suddenly burst into a long, baleful whistle. As the sound shrilled through our ears, temporarily stunning us, a pale white, creamy substance started spurting from the fecal-stained hole.

As the shrill whistle grew louder, the once bright, yellow eyes, changed colors. Mesmerized by the evolving shades of oranges, which quickly gave way to more vibrant reds, followed by purples and then blues, we hardly noticed that the whistling had stopped. Only when the big-toothed grin returned to its face, were we aware of the silence that had descended upon us.

Moving slowly, but with extreme deliberation, the being lowered its hands from her breast, sliding them gently down the front of Loté's hard, flat abdomen. They came to a stop only after encountering the course stand of her pubic hair. Taking great care to be gentle, it gingerly explored the rough texture of her tightly curled hair. Slowly, but with mounting fervor, it turned its exploring inward. Using its long slender fingers, it gently parted the tender folds of skin, gradually probing deeper within the hair-covered area between her thighs.

With a smooth gracefulness that belied its true strength, the creature used its free hand to retrieve handfuls of the whitish cream that was now running freely from the stained hole and down the front of its legs. With grim determination, it suddenly pushed fistfuls of the milky liquid into Loté's groin. Increasingly frustrated by its awkwardness in attempting to insert the creamy sauce, it grew steadily more determined and savage toward her.

Suddenly, I snapped out of the hypnotic trance that had come over me. Just as quickly, shock and disbelief came over me at the thought that Loté was allowing the creature to do this to her. For the first time since the creature came into view, I was able to tear my eyes away from it and see the look on Loté's face.

"Loté!" I cried, grabbing her by the shoulders and jerking her backwards, away from the groping paws of the demented creature.

Desperate to maintain its hold on her, both physically and hypnotically, the creature lunged forward, putting it face up to hers and staring into her eyes. It was surprisingly fast, and I couldn't seem to pull Loté far enough away from it.

Within seconds, its entire hand had disappeared within her, wildly attempting to deposit the white cream deeper inside her. Without having to be told, we all realized that the white cream was sperm, and the frantic beast was trying urgently to place it as near to her eggs as possible before we could stop it.

The being had hypnotized us with its oversized eyes, while trying to impregnate Loté!

All the while, she continued smiling and breathing hard, completely unaware of what was happening to her, or that she was in extreme danger. She actually appeared to be enjoying herself!

For reasons that I couldn't comprehend, the creature's hold over us was weakening, as was the flow of white cream from its dirty hole. Wary was the first to react when my attempt to pull Loté free of the creature failed. After quickly assessing the situation, he unerringly brought his long-knife down on the being's arm, severing it cleanly from the body, just above the elbow.

Letting out a scream even more baleful than the first, it fell writhing in pain to the floor. A blackish slime-like substance started spurting madly from the stub where its arm had been attached. Reaching down, I grabbed the end of the arm that was still inside Loté and gave a quick yank to remove it. Her scream of sheer pain and agony that escaped her lips, as she came out of the trance, turned my blood to ice. Falling to her back on the hallway floor, she writhed and screamed, kicking wildly to get away from the pain that was burning within her.

But the arm wouldn't come out! It was as if it had a mind of its own, and was holding on inside of her body. Loté, though hysterical, suddenly grabbed hold of the stump protruding from her groin and, while lying on her back, yanked hysterically on it, crazily trying to extract it from within her.

Instead of coming out, though, the arm was actually crawling deeper into her. It was exhibiting all the characteristics of a healthy sperm cell, working its way deeper toward the egg. Unfortunately, for Loté, the creature's limb had no way of knowing that she had been recycled, thus impairing her ability to produce eggs.

The sweat was pouring from her tensed body as she lay writhing on her back, screaming and pulling with all her might to remove the foreign object from her womb. All feelings of ecstasy were over the moment she snapped out of the trance. All she felt now was extreme pain and agony, as she continued fighting ineffectually against the self-empowered limb.

Despite her most rigorous efforts, the limb was arduously working its way deeper and deeper within her, searching for an egg that didn't exist. At the rate that it was progressing into her, it would only be a matter of moments before the chopped off stump disappeared entirely. We had to do something to stop it, and we had to do it now!

Yet, I was powerless to move. Having futilely pulled on the stump once already, there didn't seem any point in repeating my past failure. Even Loté's own terrified efforts yielded no results, except to increase her own suffering and agony. I was at a loss; I had no idea to do.

Suddenly, jumping into action and taking charge, Keazar pushed me out of the way while working himself into position over her prostrate body.

"Take her hands and hold them out of the way!" he screamed at me, his voice on the verge of panic. "Linit! Brae! Hold her legs apart! I'm going in to see if I can turn it back out!"

Unaware of what had been happening around me, due to all the chaos, it was with sickness and revulsion that I noticed the creature's body was quickly dissolving into a pool of black slime. Emanating from the slime was a faint tendril of an acrid smelling stench. I had to think that the poor bastard had but one mission in its lousy life, to seek out a female of the human race, impregnate the poor soul, and then die. Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, depending on your point of view, Loté didn't have an egg to impregnate. The creature, not knowing that she carried no eggs, was attempting to go deeper into her in search of the eggs that should be there. Eventually it was going to kill her if we didn't do something to stop its forward progress, and fast!

"Hold her still!" Keazar harshly demanded, as he slid his hand into her, carefully following along the side of the limb that had almost disappeared within her.

After a moment's hesitation, in which to learn the exact location of the fingers attached to the limb, he suddenly shoved his arm into her with a tremendous force, driving it clear up to his elbow. Her eyes shot open, bulging from their sockets, trying to detach themselves from the pain! They fluttered briefly and then stopped, closing slowly as consciousness slipped from her spent body. Letting out a long sighing breath, her body arched up one time in protest against the violent intrusion, and then collapsed almost deathlike to the floor, her mind fleeing to a place where there was no pain. Her too white skin belied a pale gray hue lying just beneath the surface. Her breathing had all but stopped, as it became deathly shallow. Only her heart beat fiercely against the injustice that her body had suffered. She only looked dead; she was a long way from dying.

Suddenly, jerking backwards with all of his strength, Keazar's hand shot free from inside her, followed by a loud wet sucking noise that ended with a loud pop. Between his momentum and the slick covering of blood on the floor, he lost his balance, landing hard on his backside with a thud. Intertwined in his blood-covered fingers were the still supple, searching fingers of the creature. The impression he made, sitting on the floor with the limb held out in front of him was that he was shaking hands with a prop.

Coming out of the torn and mutilated flesh between Loté's legs was a tremendous amount of blood and tissue material that had been literally ripped from within her. In its determined search for an egg, the creature's hand had done extensive damage, possibly impairing the functioning of several vital organs.

While Keazar busied himself in an attempt to eradicate the creature's fingers from his own, Linit returned with some of the healing salve from the supplies that they had left down the hall. Applying a large amount to her hand, she gently inserted it into Loté's groin, spreading it around as best she could. To Loté's good fortune, she was still unconscious. In shock, I sat on the cool of the hallway floor, holding her head on my lap. Agonizingly, I kept asking myself, "How could I have allowed that creature to get so close to her?"

"Why did I let her near it?" I asked aloud, not addressing anyone in particular.

Keazar, overhearing my anguished plea, softly answered, "That monster used its eyes to hypnotize whoever it looked at, or whoever looked at it. You were hypnotized the same as Loté was, but only to keep you from interfering with it. It was on a mission, Rod. Now it's up to you to remember that we are too."

"What was it?" I asked, looking over at the smoldering black stain on the hallway floor.

"If I had to take a guess, I would say that it was a poor attempt by someone to make a clone," he replied distractedly, his attention focused on Loté as he meticulously cleaned the congealing blood from his hands and between his fingers.

Looking down at Loté, I watched in silence while Brae silently cleaned her blood-splattered body. Never had I felt so helpless, so unable to protect the one that I loved.

"But why had it done what it did? Why did it attack her the way it had?" I finally voiced, unable to hold in my frustration and anger.

"My good friend, I wish I had all the answers that you require. Unfortunately, I can only make guesses. That poor creature was probably rebelling against everything that it has experienced since being created," Keazar started slowly. "In some deranged part of its unholy mind, it must have deduced that all of its pain and suffering had been brought about by the machines that had given it life. Somewhere, in a tiny, inherited cell, it must have retained a fragmented memory of a woman giving birth. It must have retained just enough of this genetic impulse to realize that there was an alternative to the machine that bore it." He paused for a moment to take a breath. Then, in a tired sounding voice, he slowly continued. "My friend, the poor creature was only trying to fulfill a mission that its host had set out to do long before he came to be. Unfortunately, the damned thing lacked enough sense to know that what it was doing wasn't acceptable behavior in a civilized society. I know you are angry, Rod. But is it really the creature's fault? Can you blame it for its ingrained need to go forth and multiply?"

"Yes! When it put its selfish need to proliferate above the rights and needs of others, and injuring an innocent human being in its feeble attempt to go forth and multiply, then yes, I guess that I do blame it!" I cried out bitterly. Everyone wisely gave me a minute to calm down. When I had, I asked in a more serious tone, "Was that what your cloning attempts looked like?"

"Oh no, my good friend! My clones actually looked very similar to me. No, no, no," he reiterated before continuing. "Whoever made that poor creature obviously didn't know what they were doing. That poor thing was so deranged and malformed that it was lucky, if you could call it that, to have survived resuscitation from the incubator, much less live. No, my good friend, my clones were almost physically indistinguishable from myself. At least, they were in so far as physical attributes went. No, it was the mental attributes that made my clones so extremely different from me."

Listening to him as he described his former cloning attempts, I had to wonder; how could he have forgotten his earlier concerns regarding his own research so quickly?

"That corpse, or disgusting slime, or whatever it is, is beginning to stink, Rod," Wary said, not taking his eyes from it. "It's beginning to give me the creeps. Do you think we can get out of here? That is, if Loté's up to it."

"I'm fine," said Loté suddenly, struggling to get to her feet. Noticing the tremendous amount of blood covering the floor, she asked, "My God, what happened?"

"You were attacked!" Brae replied, incredulous that Loté had no recollection of the event. "Don't tell me that you don't remember? You must remember the pale skinny creature with the yellow eyes and stupid grin!" she added while putting an arm under Loté's to help her stand.

"I don't know what you're talking about. Rod, what is she talking about?" she asked, her consciousness pushing aside the sleep her mind had escaped to, and then, adding with a wince, "Oough! My stomach feels like I've been stabbed with a long-knife. I didn't eat anything from that food locker, did I?"

Grabbing her under the other arm and steadying her between us, we slowly guided her back down the hallway until we reached the area where we had left the rest of the supplies. Before answering her questions, we gently eased her down into a sitting position and gave her some water to drink.

While she quenched the dryness in her mouth, I began to fill her in on the events surrounding her experience. Forcing myself not to leave out any of the details, though I found them vulgar to recall, I recited explicitly everything that had happened to her since the arrival of the strange being. She screwed her face up in disgust when I told her what Keazar had done for her. But then quickly, she turned her face toward him as if she were seeing him for the first time. Her look slowly changed to one of gratitude as she continued to study him. Feeling unnerved by her close scrutiny, he hesitantly assured her that except for some temporary soreness, she would start feeling the healing effects of the salve immediately. Within a day or so, she should be as good as new, maybe even better.

"In the meantime, though, I recommend that you refrain from enjoying each other's company too strenuously. If you know what I mean," he added with a smirk.

What he meant was more than obvious, but as for Loté, it was the furthest thing from her mind. After witnessing the destruction done to her, I was sure that it would be quite a while before I again got to share in the fruits of her bounty. However, because I wasn't about to underestimate the healing powers of a salve administered by a man that could recycle corpses back to life, I decided that I should keep an open mind in the matter. I wouldn't push Loté to make love with me, but I had a feeling that it wouldn't be all that long before she was ready to on her own.

"We have lost much valuable time, my friends," said Keazar as he wondered back from having gone to take another look at the slime on the hallway floor. "If there are scouts ahead of the regular soldiers, they will catch us out in the open in these hallways, much the same as that creature did. If that should happen, we will lose the element of surprise."

"Can you travel, Loté?" I asked gently.

"Sure. I feel much better already," she answered as she allowed Keazar and me to help her.

"I'll carry your packs," I suggested before anyone else could say anything. "You just carry your weapons."

"If everyone is ready, then, let's get moving," Keazar suggested. Turning back to face me, he added, "If the extra weight is too much for you, my friend, we can break the packs down, and distribute the supplies among the rest of us."

"I'll be fine. Let's just get going."

"We have maybe six more hours of travel time in this hallway before we will need to start checking out the secondary branch tunnels," Keazar said, as he picked up Linit's pack and helped her into the harness. "Once we find a secondary tunnel that is still passable, the risk of encountering any soldiers or scouts will be greatly diminished. That is, of course, unless Jontue has ordered his soldiers into them. That is not very likely, though, due to the number of tunnels they would have to search."

"Do you miss him?" I gently asked of him, referring to Jontue.

"My friend, when you have spent as many years in the company of one man, it would be a lie to say that I didn't know who you mean. Yes, I miss him deeply. And no, I am not convinced that it is Jontue that is behind all of this trouble," he emphatically stated. "After all, was it not Lord Balzar's insignia on the soldiers that attacked us at the lab?"

"Time will tell," I remarked. "For your sake, as well as ours, I hope he proves us wrong."

It was a noncommittal remark, at best. I was keeping an open mind. Until we had more proof, I couldn't say that I believed or disbelieved in the possibility that Jontue had turned to whatever means to take control of the planet. I hadn't known Jontue long enough to make that commitment, and yet, because he had saved our lives when we were doomed to die, I found myself finding it hard not to make. All the evidence suggested that the man was indeed evil and hungry for power. He was also one of the few people that had the knowledge to attempt to raise an army by such means as cloning and recycling. It was an ambitious feat, and Jontue had the means and the resources to pull it off.

Still, the events to this point much more strongly suggested that Lord Balzar was running the show and that if Jontue were involved, he was little more than an unwilling participant.

We set off down the hallway with Keazar and Linit in the lead. Directly behind him were Loté and I with Wary and Brae bringing up the rear. We broke into a single file column as we made our way past the hardened black slime that was once a living creature. Loté's blood had also since dried and turned black against the pristine white of the floor. The way the two stains resembled each other was most uncanny.

Each head turned in unison to look down at them as we passed. If I could have seen the look on each one's face, I am sure the look would have been the same on all. All, that is, except for Loté's face. Among the rest of us, I was sure that I would have seen nothing but disgust. However, watching Loté's face, I was sure that what I saw pass fleetingly across it was none other than a look of longing mixed with despair.

She may claim not to remember the time while she was in the creature's trance, but something on a much deeper level inside her psyche had been touched. Subconsciously, the being had connected with her own buried desire, the desire to spawn a baby. Although, never having experienced this desire on any conscious or subconscious level myself, I still respected the idea that other people could feel it.

Although I wasn't ready for a child at this time in my life, I had always taken it for granted that I would leave an heir. Of course, as long as I could be recycled, there really wasn't a need for an heir. Until I met Loté, I never gave the thought of children any consideration. However, now I was almost afraid to think about them for fear that I would begin to share in her desire. Sometime in the future, Keazar will figure out why the recycling machines are unable to replicate the normal fertility of people. When that happens, it will surely follow that he will also be able to remedy the problem, if indeed it is a problem. That he will make it a priority at some time in the distant future, I have no doubts. The time will come for Linit, just as it has for Loté, when she feels the yearning to have a baby. Shortly thereafter, he will be turning his energies and resources toward an attempt to father something besides a clone.

Keazar kept the pace moderate until Loté told him that she was feeling better and could go faster. With the words no sooner out of her mouth, he increased the pace to the same feverish tempo that we had been traveling at before our last rest. Concerns for Loté made me ask her to let us know if she needed to slow down or stop. With a promise from her that she would, we suspended all further talking to save our breath for the exertion at hand.

What troubled me even more than the concern that Loté might push herself too hard, before giving herself a chance to heal properly, was Keazar. To push Loté as hard as he was suggested to me that he was more worried about getting out of the hallways unnoticed then he had formerly let on.

As we ran through the endless maze, my thoughts turned to the being that had attacked Loté. If this was what came out of an incubator when attempting to make a clone, then what had we left behind for Lute and Elsa to deal with?

And if I was having these thoughts, was Keazar, too?

I suddenly started wondering if he wasn't more concerned about the possibly dire situation that we'd left back at the lab than he was letting on.

**5**

The pace that Keazar set quickly had everyone breathing hard and sweating profusely. I knew Keazar well enough to know that he would only push himself this hard if there was a good reason for it. As we ran through the endless white of the hallway in silence, the soft thumping of our feet creating a hypnotic rhythm, my thoughts kept returning to this puzzle. With a lack of anything else to distract me, I was devoting all my concentration on the motivation behind his actions. After rejecting several possible reasons, one kept coming back to the forefront of my mind; fear. Keazar was running scared.

Ever since our run-in with the clone, he had been acting skittish. However much I wanted to question him, though, it was foolish to waste our precious breath. My questions and his answers would just have to wait, despite my suspicions that he knew more about what lay ahead than he was letting on.

We traveled another four hours before the effects of the mile eating began to manifest itself in our movements. We had reached a point of fatigue where we were stumbling against each other and using the walls for support to keep from falling down. Realizing the futility of pushing ourselves any farther, and running the risk of going into combat too weary to fight, I was about to order a rest break when Keazar abruptly stopped. He had gone as far as he could. Sucking at the air with loud whooshing sounds, he stood with his head hanging, bracing himself by putting his hands on his knees. The rest of the party quickly collapsed to the floor behind us as I limped slowly over to his side and put a hand on his shoulder.

"I didn't think you were ever going to stop," I said breathlessly. And then, in a conciliatory tone, I whispered between gasps, "We need to talk before we go any farther."

Still breathing hard and gasping for each breath, he could only nod his head in response. Satisfied, I turned and slowly made my way back to where Loté had plunked down against the wall. Letting the packs slide from my back and fall to the floor, I eased myself down beside her. Turning her head toward mine, she smiled coyly while reaching over and taking my limp manhood in her hand. Her face was flushed a bright red, but I got the feeling that there was more to her color than just prior exercise.

Though I was tired and exhausted from carrying the burden of two packs, I was still unable to resist her. Within moments, she had coaxed my manhood to a state of attention. Had it not been for her efforts, my breathing would have returned to normal. Instead, my breathing was rapid and shallow.

"Loté," I said softly between breaths. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I can't help myself, Rod, I want you," was all she could manage, her breath husky with emotion as it rushed in and out of her heaving chest.

Deftly, she rolled over so that she was straddling my knees with her hips and took me into her mouth. She had barely started coaxing me when I felt my fever climbing toward a climax. Sensing my imminent explosion, she quickly mounted me, continuing the passion with her rising and falling hips. The extreme pressure that she exerted on my manhood quickly grew unbearable; she was more than I could handle. In conjunction with a climactic rush, a small, strangled cry of pain escaped my trembling lips.

The look on her face could only be described as that of pure ecstasy as she slowly relaxed her hold on my spent and cowering manhood.

"Loté," I said between breaths. "What came over you? You almost ripped it off!"

"I want more," she purred, continuing to use her hands in an attempt to coax new life into my limp and now useless tool. "Give me more!"

Her tone of voice changed suddenly as she transformed from a demure little sex kitten into a demanding, wanton tiger. Savagely, she stroked and beat at my useless tool, whipping it to a bright red flush from the friction of her hands. Her demeanor quickly changed from that of a wanton woman, to one of rage and frustration, when my manhood refused to respond to her savage craving. Her actions were beginning to scare me.

Screaming in frustration, she moved up my body until her groin was pressed against my face. Grabbing my hair in both of her hands, she ground her body hard against my face. The scent of her passion was overpowering, as she continued pressing her warm, moist crotch into my face, all the while, screaming obscenities at me in frustration.

"Eat it, you worthless shit! Bite me! Show me some passion. Make yourself useful or I will find a man that can!"

"Loté! Please. What's come over you?" I demanded of her as I reached up and grabbed her wrists, forcing her off me.

"Do me! Do me right!" she screamed hysterically. Just as suddenly, she broke down and began to cry. Her intense rage swiftly dissolving into begging, as she pleaded, "Please, please Rod, can't you see how much I need you?"

Linit came over and put her arms consolingly around her shoulders, guiding her away from me as sobs tore through her body, shaking her violently. Slowly, she helped her to her feet and led her to a place by the wall. Gently, she eased her down into a sitting position, all the while, keeping her arms around her and saying comforting things to calm her. Keazar came over and stood looking down at me. I could only look dumbly back up at him, still too shocked to understand what was going on.

Consolingly, he said, "She'll be all right, Rod. Don't worry about her."

"What came over her?" I asked helplessly. "She has never acted like that before!"

"The healing salve must have set off a hormonal reaction. That seems to be the only thing that can explain the extreme mood swing. Look at her now," Keazar continued in little more than a whisper as he nodded toward where Linit and Loté were huddled together against the wall. "She is crying and depressed, yet she has no idea why."

Wary came over and joined Keazar and I as Brae went to see if she could lend Linit a hand in consoling Loté.

"She'll be all right, Rod. I don't understand this healing stuff and hormones the way Keazar here does, but I know Loté. She's a strong girl. She'll get over it before you know it," he said gently.

"Thanks, Wary. You too, Keazar," I said, grateful to have friends that could show such concern.

Secretly, I had to wonder what life would be like, living with a woman that could never be satisfied with everything that I had to give her. The thought quickly evaporated as more pressing matters needed to be discussed at the moment. If I found time later, I would ponder it to greater length.

In little more than a whisper, I turned my gaze toward Keazar and said, "I need to ask you something and it's important that you give me a straight answer, for all our sakes."

"Sure, my good friend. I will answer as best as I am able," he jovially replied, all too eager to have the subject changed from Loté's overwhelming sex drive.

"You pushed us much harder during the last four hours than I would have thought you were capable of. Would you mind telling Wary and me why? If you know something more about where we are going than you have thus far told us, now is the time to share it. It's important that we know everything there is to know. We can't afford to be caught off guard. So tell us, Keazar, what is driving you? Why are you so scared that you haven't been able to tell us about it?" I asked, speaking slowly and deliberately.

He looked first at Wary and then at me before sighing softly in resignation. Then, still somewhat hesitantly, he began. "You are right, my friends. It is more than just the need to be out of these hallways before the soldiers arrive. If that was all there was to it, I would almost look forward to a good battle with them. At least, I believe that I would, if we weren't trying to avoid detection."

"I knew it was more than just mere soldiers that had you running scared. Now it's time for you to tell us just what is scaring you," I demanded, while Wary sat silently looking on, waiting for him to continue.

Hesitatingly he started. "That last creature we met in the hallway, my friends, I don't think that was just a fluke. Maybe I am mistaken, yet, I can't shake the feeling that I saw a distinctive resemblance in its features to someone else that we once knew."

"Jontue!" Wary exclaimed suddenly.

"Yes, precisely my friend. You saw it too, then," he said, confirming the understanding in Wary's face.

"Jontue?" I asked, still confused and feeling left out by the obvious understanding that had just taken place between them.

"Yes, of course! I see it now!" Wary suddenly cried out. "It's not soldiers that you're afraid of running into in the hallways. In fact, you're not expecting soldiers at all!"

"I am fearful that you may be correct, my good friend," he resignedly conceded.

"Correct how?" I demanded of either, still confused and feeling like an idiot, while they connected mentally in their understanding of each other.

"Oh!" Keazar sighed heavily before continuing. "If only we had to contend with mere soldiers. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that's not going to be the case. If my suspicions are correct, the army of beings that is advancing upon our position while we sit here on our haunches resting would make a normal army of soldiers turn and run. No, I'm afraid that what is coming is much worse than any army of mere mortals. The army that's coming has no conscience, no moral obligation to anyone, and no sense of right or wrong."

Suddenly, the gist of what they were saying registered. Incredulously, I said, "You mean to tell me that there are four, possibly five hundred clones of Jontue's making, coming this way!"

"Yes, I am afraid that is exactly what I am saying. And each one of the beings will probably be worse than the one before it. May the gods have mercy on us all," he added dramatically to emphasize his point.

"Here, drink some fluids," offered Wary as he held the water flagon out for either of us.

Deep in my thoughts, I hurriedly declined, indicating for Keazar to drink first. It was all I could do to keep my imagination from running rampant with all the possibilities of what Jontue could have made in his likeness. I had seen enough of what could be created in the recycling machines to know that any form of creature that could be imagined was possible. Compounding the problem was the fact that this army of Jontue's possessed a negative amount of moral fortitude. In my book, that equated to an army of degenerates.

Keazar, having drunk greedily from the flagon, handed it to me. Still too numb to speak, I nodded my thanks. After taking a long drink, I passed the flagon back to Wary.

"What do we do now?" I asked finally, when it became apparent that they were waiting for me to say something.

"We need to get out of this hallway," answered Keazar. "A branch into a secondary tunnel is right near here. We should be able to go through the secondary tunnels undetected. Unless, of course, Jontue's clones have already infiltrated them."

"Then I suggest that if the girls are ready to travel, we should probably not stop again until we are out of this hallway and safely into the tunnels."

Rising to my feet, I looked over toward Loté. To my surprise, she was already standing. Feeling a surge of relief flow through me, I saw that she had also stopped crying. Linit and Brae were standing on either side of her, but I could tell that it was only for emotional, and not physical, support.

Leaning over, I retrieved our packs from the floor, where I had dropped them earlier. With Wary's help, I had mine on my back and secured in place in no time. Since Loté was feeling better physically, it was no longer necessary for me to carry her pack. As I helped her secure it in place, I casually ask her a few questions, satisfying myself that she was indeed ready to travel. She was embarrassed with regard to her earlier behavior, but otherwise in good health, and more than eager to be moving again. Briefly, I filled her in on the concerns that Keazar shared regarding the soldiers. Specifically, I related to her that the soldiers might prove to be something less than human. She didn't say anything, but instead, gave me a quick hug and a tightly forced smile.

With Keazar and Linit once again in the lead, Loté and I followed on their heels with Wary and Brae bringing up the rear. We had only traveled for approximately thirty minutes when Keazar slowed to a stop. Silently, he reached up and placed his right hand against the featureless white of the wall, placing the inex card against the camouflaged reader. After a moment's hesitation, a panel slid back unto itself revealing a gaping black hole that led into what appeared to be solid rock.

"This is our destination, my friends," he said nervously, while peering into the darkness beyond.

"Then I suggest that we get started before we are discovered out here in the open. Our eyes will adjust to the darkness soon enough," I added brazenly, trying to sound sure of myself. With false bravado, I led the way into the forbidding darkness.

Loté, slipping her hand into mine without saying anything, followed me into the warm, damp-smelling mugginess. The unfinished tunnels not only lacked air conditioning to cool them, but also ventilation to make the air more breathable. The smell that accosted our nostrils as we entered stank rankly of decaying plant and animal life. The sickly sweet smell clung to our sweat-glistened bodies, almost masking our own distinct stenches. Within hours, our senses would be so permeated with the smell that we would become oblivious to it. But until then, we would just do our best to ignore it.

When everyone was lined up inside the dark narrow tunnel, Keazar turned back toward the lighted opening. With obvious hesitation and regret, he closed the door to the bright cool air of the hallway. Between the cloying effect of the hot rank air, and the secure feeling of being under cover of dark, I suddenly felt an urge to lie down and sleep. Just a few blissful hours sounded almost too good to resist. But as tempting as the urge was, it was much more imperative that we put as much distance between the door leading to the hallway and ourselves as possible. If Keazar knew about this tunnel, then it was more than likely that Jontue did to. That meant also that every one of the Jontue clones also knew to some distorted degree about the existence of this tunnel. It would take only one curious clone to check the entrance to the tunnel and discover them sound asleep, for their plan to fall apart; unless they managed to destroy it the same way they so unwittingly managed to destroy the first clone.

"We'll travel for two hours, and then we will take an extended break and sleep," I said firmly, knowing that the others were probably feeling the same urge as me.

Everyone was surprised when Keazar asked if we could postpone our break for approximately another hour beyond that. He quickly explained that he was sure that within three hour's travel time, we would be at the first junction in this tunnel. Once there, he affirmed, we would find an expanded area where the tunnels came together that would afford us a more comfortable place to rest. Like the others, I was all for the idea. The tunnel we were now in was barely wide enough to accommodate his massive bulk, either height-wise or width-wise, and narrowed even more just fifty feet from the hallway entrance.

With all of us, except for Brae, having to crouch to keep from hitting our heads against the rough jagged stone of the ceiling, the next hour seemed to drag on forever. Fighting off an attack of acute depression, I suddenly began to doubt in Keazar's three-hour estimate. Fears that we were traveling much too slowly in the dark, cramped tunnel, began to set in.

Suddenly, I realized that I had lost all track of time. On the verge of panic, I was about to ask Keazar how much farther we had to go when I suddenly felt the pressure exerted by the closeness of the walls and ceiling fall away.

Reaching out with my arms from side to side and then straight up above me, I knew we had finally reached the junction. I let out a small cry of joy as the others joined me in my mood of welcome relief. By the time we had reached the junction, everyone was cramped and had at least one good bump on their skulls from having tried to straighten the kinks out of their necks and backs without stopping. I was sure that my own head was bleeding from the hard knock that it too had taken against the ceiling. However, upon closer inspection, it turned out to be nothing more than the ever-increasing flow of sweat, matting the hair to my scalp. It was probably my imagination, but it felt almost as if the farther we progressed along this tunnel, the hotter it was growing.

Wary lit a small torch to light up the area as the rest of us dropped our packs to the ground and straightened up. Amidst the stretching bodies, could be heard the sounds of bellowing, complaining, and ecstasy as everyone took advantage of the openness of the area. Never before had it felt so wondrous to be able to stretch our limbs. Within minutes of having stopped, the mood lightened up appreciably, and only got better, once the food and water was passed around.

The good mood soon wore off however as we soon discovered that we had to lie atop our packs to prevent our bare flesh from coming into contact with the hot stone of the floors and walls. The surfaces were so hot they were almost unbearable even to our thick calloused feet. Adding to the discomfort of the heated surroundings was the high humidity that kept our sweat from evaporating, leaving us feeling continually wet, and miserably uncomfortable.

"Is it getting warmer while we lay here, or is that just my imagination?" I finally asked of no one in particular.

Barely a word had been spoken since eating, a kind word anyway, and the silence was becoming almost as thick as the air.

"If I didn't know any better, I would swear we were almost to the surface on the sunny side of the planet," answered Wary. "Yet, I'm sure that isn't possible."

Keazar replied, "It is possible that these old tunnels will lead us farther astray than we would care for them to do so, my friends, but we are not traveling toward the surface. Oh, contraire. We should be getting farther from the surface with each step we take. Accordingly, it should be getting cooler the farther we go."

"Then how do you explain the rising heat and humidity?" Wary asked irritably.

"I can't explain it," Keazar curtly replied in response to Wary's developing attitude.

"Calm down! Both of you," I said sharply. "I know that what's happening is troubling, but we'll figure it out. In the meantime, don't let our uncomfortable conditions get on your nerves. We have more important issues to contend ourselves with than petty arguments."

"Sorry," Wary said humbly to no one in particular as he stood up and moved farther out to the edge of the light, dragging his pack along the ground behind him.

"Maybe we could put the torch out," suggested Linit, as she came and sat down beside Keazar. "The air is foul enough in these tunnels already, without having to add all that smoke to it."

Brae was walking past where the torch had been set on the floor as she went to join Wary. Without a word, she picked it up and snuffed it against the wall. A second later, it could be heard hitting the hard stone floor as she casually dropped it without any further thought. Without thinking, I started to form the words to reprimand her and remind her of the value of that torch she had just so callously discarded, when I felt a hand on my arm. I knew right away that it had to be Keazar, since he was the only one sitting near enough to reach me.

"Let it ride," he whispered softly from the dark. "We have many more torches than we have friends down here. We can afford to lose a few torches; we can't afford to lose any of our friends."

"What's the whispering all about?" whispered Loté, as she came cautiously toward us in the dark.

"Nothing, my love, just trying not to alarm anyone," I said softly, while guiding her to her pack on the floor with my hands.

Judging from the direction that the two women had just come, I suspected that they were returning from having gone to relieve themselves. I was glad they had stayed together; it was much safer that way.

"It is getting hotter, isn't it?" she asked softly, after reclining to her pack on the floor of the tunnel with the rest of us.

"Yes, I'm afraid it's not just our imaginations. Something is happening and it's heating the hell out of this part of the planet. It doesn't make any sense. Keazar feels it should be getting cooler the farther we go, not hotter."

"I have been thinking," said Keazar softly, his voice coming to us from out of the dark. "There can only be one explanation for why this tunnel is getting warmer when it shouldn't be; it must be connected by a series of other tunnels to an opening in the crust. This theoretical opening would have to be a long way from us, or it would be even hotter than this. Hopefully, the effects are confined to the upper levels. However, this does put a completely new spin on things, my friends. Not only does it mean that the route that I had intended for us to follow is now out of the question, but also, we must remain on this level. My hopes were that we would be able to go to the level above this one at this junction. But that must be where the heat is coming from. We will have to remain on this level, at least until we come to the next junction."

"What do we do if, when we reach the next junction, it's still just as hot or hotter?" I asked skeptically.

"We pray that there is a shaft that leads down a level and not up a level like this one, my good friends," he answered solemnly.

Concerned, Loté asked, "How far is it to the next junction?"

"My good lady," he replied. "Beyond this junction, I will be as reliable of a guide as you. I am no more familiar with where this tunnel leads beyond here, than I am with more than half the remaining tunnels in Heälf. It is not my intention to scare you, but there is always a chance that we could follow this tunnel for days, only to have it abruptly end in a pile of rubble."

"We appreciate your candid honesty, Keazar, but in the future, maybe you could keep a tad more of it to yourself," I suggested half jokingly, half seriously. "At least when it involves our chances of survival."

"My good friends," Keazar responded lightly. "You know that isn't my nature."

We all chuckled at the levity before giving in to the labor of the journey. Within minutes, our group of four was trading snores with Wary and Brae who had remained farther up the tunnel from the rest of us.

Between them and us spouted the shaft that led up to the next level. It wasn't much more than two feet in diameter with metal rungs bolted into the rough-hewn sides as it wound its way upwards for a distance of almost two hundred feet. From where I lay, it was nothing more than a hole in the middle of the ceiling, a hole that any unsuspecting person or animal could easily fall into from the tunnel above. With the rungs spaced two feet apart, it would be easy for a person climbing them to catch himself before falling very far if he lost his grip. It would be even easier, if the party were climbing down the shaft.

Sleep would not come to my troubled mind. Because Loté's question regarding where and how far this tunnel went had gone unanswered, it kept cropping into the forefront of my mind. Beyond the fact that it went in the general direction that we needed to go, none of us had a clue. If Keazar had any inkling of an idea about where it led, he would have been more than eager to share the knowledge with us. Since he didn't know any more than the rest of us, we had no other alternative but to forge ahead and hope for the best. At least we had the small consolation of knowing that we were heading in the right direction to reach the first set of labs. With that knowledge, I would have to content myself for now.

Adding to my problems was Loté's insatiable appetite for sex. For some unknown reason, one of the side effects of the healing salve that Linit had administered to her had turned her into a nymphomaniac. She spent every waking minute coaxing my manhood to attention and climbing on. Sometimes, when she mounted me, she would face forward. And yet, other times, she would ride me with her back toward me. However, each time, I always ended up in the same position, with my back on the rough, uneven surface of the packs. Thankfully, she didn't demand a mutual effort. Except for keeping my erection hard for as long as I was capable, she ask for nothing else.

When she sensed it going soft, she would quickly use her tongue and mouth to encourage it back to life. When all her efforts failed to keep me hard, she would reluctantly roll over onto her own pack. In the dark, I would hear her fingering herself into a frenzied state before eventually climaxing. Shortly after that, her breathing would return to normal, and she would fall back to sleep. Despite understanding that this behavior was only temporary, and that she couldn't control the raging hormones that the salve had ignited, I was still going to be glad when the effect finally wore off.

It worried me too that she was expending much more energy in this hyperactive hormonal stage than was good for her. The journey that we had embarked on was physically demanding, in and of itself. But more important, we could never be sure when we might be put in a situation that would require all of our remaining strength and stamina just to survive.

Loté had just drifted back to sleep when I thought I sensed a strange smell wafting through the otherwise still air of the dark tunnel. My instincts instantly went to red alert as I reached unconsciously for the long-knife at my side. For a strange smell to have assailed my nostrils, the bearer of the odor couldn't be far behind.

I strained my ears against the nervous pounding in my chest. The absolute silence in the tunnel was broken only by the different levels of snoring. I needed to alert the rest of the group. However, to do so would interrupt their snoring, and thus warn whoever or whatever that was approaching. In a hasty decision, I opted to wait and see before alerting the others. It was very possible that whatever was approaching had no idea that we were here.

Silently, I rolled over to my belly and planted my feet beneath me. The creature that had assaulted Loté earlier didn't have any kind of abnormal odor attached to it, at least, not before it died. Nevertheless, that didn't mean that this wasn't another one of the same creatures. This one would be in for a surprise, though, before it ever got near enough to do any harm. We had learned our lesson the hard way, and it would not be easily forgotten. To the dismay of any beings or creatures that we encountered in the future, our greeting would not be so open and trusting.

A feeling of quiet relief settled over me as I noticed that several of the snoring sounds had fallen quiet. Without a word having to be said, I was no longer keeping a lone vigil, waiting in the silence of the dark for the bearer of the foul odor. Through a sixth sense, or maybe just instincts, I wasn't sure how I knew it. However, I knew it just the same; whatever was bearing the awful odor was coming down the shaft from the level above.

Assuming a defensive position, I silently straightened myself up into a standing position while leveling my long-knife in front of me. Moving stealthily forward, I stopped directly below the opening of the shaft. In the darkness, it appeared as an even darker spot before my eyes. The stench that was wafting out of it was so foul that I began to gag on the rising bile in my throat. Standing beneath the opening erased all doubts concerning where the smell was coming from. Rolling down out of the shaft, it covered me with a heavier than air feeling, clinging to my skin like a heavy blanket, and slowly, almost subconsciously, weighing me down.

As my eyes began to burn, I suddenly realized the error of my ways. The stench was so strong as it descended on me that I was unable to breathe. My lungs felt as though they were filling with sand. Reflexively, I opened my mouth to warn the others. The effort to put a voice to my cry of warning was more than my senses could handle. Unable to control the spasms of my own body, I felt the bile come spilling out of my throat with a rush. The taste of it passing through my mouth was almost refreshing compared with the taste of the stench.

Unable to speak, I was aware of the splashing of my vomit as it shot against the rock wall and cascaded to the floor. Fighting against the retching of my stomach muscles, I clanged the hilt of my knife against the wall, trying to alert the others of our peril. Due to the burning stench that made breathing impossible and my spastically clenching stomach muscles, I was unable to speak, or to even utter a warning cry. Fortunately, the noise that I made with the hilt of my knife, combined with the gagging sounds from my throat, had awakened the others to the danger that was befalling us.

Keazar was the first to grasp the situation. Quickly shouting instructions, he headed off the immediate threat of chaos. Ordering everyone to grab their packs, he instructed them to head toward Brae and Wary. Ill-fatedly, I had left my own pack on the tunnel floor more than twenty feet in the opposite direction. In my anguish, I cursed myself for not having the foresight to have made everyone sleep on the far side of the shaft. Common sense should have warned me about the folly of letting anything come between the members of our small group. The last thing that I expected, though, was a threat from a level that should have been too hot for habitation.

Although I was unable to see in the darkness, I knew that whatever was coming down the shaft was almost upon us. There wasn't enough time for me to stumble back up the tunnel to retrieve my pack and get back before being cut off from the others. Keazar, recognizable only by the feel of his soft bulk, suddenly rushed past me. Linit was close behind him. Expecting Loté to be directly behind them, I waited where I was a moment longer. When I couldn't wait any longer, and she still hadn't come, I started worrying that she had been overcome by the stench. Panic began creeping in at the outer edges of my consciousness, a growing urgency warning me that I had to act now if I was going to save Loté and myself.

The air was impossible to breathe, and streaks of white light were shooting in front of my eyelids. What precious little air that I managed to suck into my laboring lungs only made me weaker. I had to get away from the bottom of the shaft before I became too weak to move. Yet, I couldn't leave Loté behind.

Turning in the direction that I believed her to be, which happened to be away from the others, I lurched forward. My feet felt as if they had stone weights tied to them, and I stumbled forward, barely managing to catch myself against the wall before falling to the hard stone floor. Determinedly, I pushed off from the wall, and continued forward blindly, fighting for each breath. What scant air that I was able to suck in, seemed to be contributing to my rapidly deteriorating condition. My leg muscles started cramping into painful knots, as my lungs were no longer able to supply them with sufficient oxygen. Time was quickly running out for me, as I knew they wouldn't support me much longer.

Struggling forward, I worked my way along the wall, using it for support. Suddenly afraid that I'd passed her in the dark, I pushed off from the wall and, with the last of my strength, made a diving lunge toward the center of the open area. Afraid of what I would find, and realizing too late that I didn't have the strength to drag both her and myself to safety, I determined that at least we would die together. My endurance had been exhausted by the effects of the stench, and my dive quickly turned into a belly flop.

As the floor rapidly shot up to meet me, an arm suddenly reached under my own and steadied me, preventing me from reaching the floor. Recognizing the firm slimness of the arm as that of Loté's, I felt renewed hope and energy. With the aid of her arm under mine, I managed to remain on my feet as we turned around and staggered back up the tunnel toward our friends.

Her own breathing was coming in raspy, shallow breaths, as she struggled with not only my weight, but also the weight of our combined packs and weapons. Passing beneath the shaft, I felt her grip on my arm slacken and her feet stumble, fighting to maintain a balance. The full force of the stench coming down on us was more than she could handle. As much as she needed my help, I couldn't find any left in me to give. My body had quit responding to my commands as if my spinal cord had been severed at the base of my skull. The feeling of elation that we were going to make it was instantly dashed, a feeling of submission quickly replacing it. The idea that we were going to die together took on new import again; we weren't going to make it!

Loté stumbled again, only this time she was unable to right herself. With a detached feeling, I could feel our bodies falling forward. I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, but my voice had long since given up.

In slow motion, I was dimly aware of falling forward, and then strong hands suddenly grabbed us. Wary and Brae, who had taken their break farther from the shaft, had come back looking for us. Since they hadn't been exposed to the full effects of the stench yet, they had the strength necessary to carry us to fresher air. With Brae carrying/dragging Loté, and Wary doing the same for me, we managed to save the supplies. Without their help, Loté and I would have died there on the tunnel floor.

We were forced to retreat approximately one hundred feet from the shaft before reaching air that was fresh enough to safely breathe again. Once there, we met up with Keazar and Linit, as they stood leaning against the wall, the supplies mounded in a heap at their feet. Someone had lit a small torch. In the dim light thrown from it, I could see how their skin had taken on bright pink flushes, while their eyes watered profusely. I could also see my own aggravated flesh, as well as that of Loté. Because there wasn't any air movement or circulation in the tunnels, the stench would be slow to advance. But because it was heavier than air, it descended the shaft, and would now spread out in every direction, slowly filling even this tunnel. It was behaving much like water; it would follow the path of least resistance.

Despite the effects of the gas, I was still thinking clearly enough to know that we couldn't remain here for very long.

Wary and Brae were breathing hard from the combined effects of their effort and that of breathing the stench, despite the relatively short distance that they had to traverse with us in tow. They were about to set us down on our packs when Keazar suddenly exclaimed, "Don't! Don't set them down. The foulness is worse nearer to the floor! We must keep them on their feet, where the air is more breathable."

Standing me up with my back to the wall, he leaned into me with his shoulder to prevent me from falling forward. Despite the burning sensation the stench had left on my skin, I could still feel the heat emanating from the stone of the wall. My lungs felt as though they were on fire, and I doubted if I would ever be free of the foul taste in my mouth. Brae followed Wary's lead and positioned Loté in the same manner. Fortunately, Loté wasn't as seriously affected as myself and didn't need the support for very long. Within moments, she relieved Wary and took up his prior position against me. Out of consideration for her well-being, I turned my head to the side so that she wouldn't have to breathe the foul air coming through my mouth. We leaned against each other in this manner for several minutes, our chests tight up against the other, while we waited for our breathing to return to normal.

Still feeling weak from the effects of the stench, we slowly moved apart from each other. The cramping slowly subsided, leaving our muscles limp and lifeless. In spite of the lingering taste in my mouth, I was feeling a need and desire for food. Because it was from having heaved out everything in my stomach, I doggedly resigned myself to wait until we were safely away from the stench. Until then, it would probably be better if I didn't have anything in my stomach.

Standing in silence, we were each afraid to say it for fear of making it real, but already we could feel the air growing heavy with the advancing stench. Whatever it was, it was moving this way. Wary rationalized that there was a fifty/fifty chance that it was only coincidence, his gut told him we weren't being followed - at least not by a living, thinking entity.

Sounding better than I felt, I asked of Keazar, "Do you have any idea what it is?"

"I'm afraid that I would only be taking wild guesses, my friend," he raspily replied, the effects of the stench slow to dissipate.

"Your 'wild guesses' are more than anything else we have to go on. If you don't mind, I think we would all like to hear them," I urged.

"Then you will hear them while we travel," he gravelly answered, while shouldering his pack and proceeding to lead the rest of us down the tunnel.

We quickly slung our own packs over our shoulders and fell in behind him, impatiently anticipating an answer to the cause of our most recent discomfort. And, more importantly, a clue as to just what the hell that stench was.

### **6**

The tunnel promptly narrowed again as we moved away from the junction, effectively forcing us back into a single file procession with our heads bowed. Once we were all in line and keeping pace with Keazar, he began by clearing his throat, or at least making a noisy attempt at it, before starting in.

"My first guess would be that it isn't some type of inorganic chemical agent. If you will remember the burns you received, my friends, when you first stumbled down here through the abandoned shaft from the surface..."

"How could I ever forget?" I interrupted, and then quickly bit my tongue.

Not acknowledging my interruption, he continued, "You might even remember the bitter taste in your mouth just before the gas started burning the skin off the rest of your body."

"I remember that!" piped up Loté. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you," she quickly and apologetically added.

"It's quite alright. What's more important is that you still remember the discomfort. They were the cause of an inorganic chemical reaction to your bodies. This stench, on the other hand, is organic in nature. Let me put it to you this way," he said slowly before taking a deep breath and organizing his thoughts. "Think of the amount of gas that would be generated from the decomposition of a million dead bodies. If you were to condense all that gas down to a volume of one pint, the results would be very similar to what we have just encountered."

The air tasted better with each step that carried us farther from the junction. It was still hot, stale, and felt close to the skin, yet, it could be inhaled without fear or extreme pain. Seeming as though it had been years ago, and not just mere hours, the cool air of the hallways was nothing more than a vague memory. Fortunately, whatever was chasing us, be it organic or otherwise, at least it didn't move very fast, and we could tell when it was coming before it reached us. Forewarned was as good as forearmed.

"You still haven't told us what you think it is, Keazar," pressed Loté.

"I'm not sure what it is, if you remember, my friend. I am only sharing my ideas, or more precisely, my educated guesses, with you," he replied, sounding a bit exasperated.

"I'm sorry, Keazar," she said softly before her voice took on an edge of frustration. "I guess it just bothers me that we were attacked by an enemy that we couldn't even fight back against. And now, to top it off, we're running from it toward the gods only know what! We could run into a dead end or be caught in the middle by something that we can't even defend ourselves against!" On the verge of tears, she added, "I've never felt so powerless, and I don't like it!"

"Yes, my dear, you are absolutely right. We are all powerless against an enemy that we can neither see nor reason with," he gently replied, the hoarseness in his voice growing worse from use. "I am sure that we've all had those same thoughts, because it would be remiss of us if we didn't. And although they bother us equally, you mustn't worry about what may or may not lie ahead."

He paused a moment to catch his breath. When he spoke again, he shocked us all with his words. "I am convinced that what is following us is a sentient being. And, I am even more convinced that it is aware of our presence in this tunnel. Despite what you may think, Wary, I believe that's why it chose this direction to come. Whether it is intentionally herding us down this tunnel, or if it is indeed trying to catch us, I cannot say. But what I am convinced of is that the stench is organic in nature. Whether it can control the emitting of this stench or not, I don't know. But I will venture to argue that it cannot." He paused again to catch his breath, and to let his words sink in before continuing. When the sound of our feet padding along the stone surface went uninterrupted, he added with a touch of contempt in his voice, "I say these thoughts, because I firmly believe that whatever is following us is nothing more than the result of another attempt at cloning that has gone bad, very bad."

Mulling over what he said, I found myself agreeing with his conviction that this was the consequence of another cloning attempt that had failed. Another thought began to form on the fringes of my conscious being. A thought that turned my blood cold, as it congealed in the forefront of my mind. We had traveled relatively few miles since leaving the lab, when one considered the total number of miles of tunnels and hallways beneath the surface. And yet, we had already encountered several botched cloning attempts. If there were this many clones per mile throughout the remaining tunnels and hallways, there had to be thousands, maybe even millions of them! I refused to believe that it was simply coincidence that we had happened upon the only failed attempts. If we were closer to one of the other labs, it would be a logical assumption to make that there would be a higher concentration of clones in the tunnels. But we were still much too far from the other labs for that to be the case. In addition, that logic didn't explain what a malformed, malignant clone was doing in a secondary tunnel!

"Keazar," I said softly, slightly relieved to feel my throat returning to normal. "You said it took time to make clones. Longer than it does just to recycle the dead."

"Yes, that is correct," he answered between breaths.

His breathing was growing labored from the physical exertion of such a brisk pace while simultaneously carrying on a conversation.

"You must be wondering the same thing that I am. I'm only surprised that it hasn't occurred to me sooner!" I said slowly, trying to absorb the full impact of my deduction.

"Would you be so kind as to share your newly found knowledge with the rest of us?" asked Wary, just a touch of impatience in his voice.

Slowly, I came to a stop so that those following wouldn't run into me. Addressing Keazar in the lead, he stopped immediately, realizing my voice was no longer in the back of his ear. We were all breathing harder than the effects of the exertion alone could justify, as we were still under the lingering effects of the stench. Keazar was suffering the worst. Weighing in at more than twice the weight of any of the rest of us, it never ceased to amaze me at how much endurance he was capable of mustering when he needed to.

I thought back to that first time that I had seen him after he had been freshly recycled, and how stunned I had been, by the sight of his heft. Prior to this, he had explained to me how the recycling machines would return dead bodies to the best physical condition that they had ever attained during their previous lifetime. When I questioned him about his obesity and lack of physical conditioning, he was quick to point out that I was seeing him in the best physical condition that he had ever attained; the recycling machines couldn't lie.

"Keazar, if it takes so much longer to make clones than it does to recycle the dead, than one of two things has been going on: Either Jontue started this plot to overthrow the planet, or the real Jontue has been kidnapped and taken a prisoner. In the first case, the goal is to make himself the supreme leader of Heälf through the use of clones and recycled soldiers. A plan that he would have had to start on long before Loté and I were even aware that there was life beneath the surface. That idea doesn't set well with me, though. If that was the case, why did Jontue risk his own life to save ours? It would have been the opportune time for him to do away with all of us.

"My second idea seems much more probable. Just imagine that someone kidnapped Jontue, someone that needed his expertise in order to build an army. This same someone had one goal in mind, the goal of becoming this planet's supreme dictator. Whether you agree with me or not, you have to admit, someone has been working toward this goal right under your nose for a very long time. There are just too many clones already in existence for this to have just started within the last year or so!"

"You must be right, my friend," he said slowly, the gears of his mind beginning to churn. "This must have been going on for much longer than I realized. Surely, this has been progressing since long before the attempted overthrow of the labs!" he continued with mounting excitement. "Oh yes. There is no doubt in my mind that someone must have kidnapped my dear friend Jontue. I should have known that he would never turn on me, his oldest and dearest friend! Only a clone could have done such a thing! I am sure now that if we had waited back at the lab until that soldier could speak, we would have discovered just that!"

"We couldn't take the time to wait, unfortunately, so we may never know what he would have told us. Do you really believe it was possible for someone to get a tissue sample from Jontue without his being aware of it?" I asked.

"Of course! That had to be what happened," he cried out excitedly, as he considered the very real possibility that his friend hadn't betrayed him after all. "When they finally managed to make a clone of Jontue, they must have kidnapped the real Jontue and put the clone in his place. Please forgive me Jontue for having doubted your friendship!" he wailed into the darkness.

"I am sure that he would forgive you, Keazar. It was an honest mistake. You had no way of knowing that it wasn't your friend betraying you," I said softly, trying to console the gentle man.

"The stench is coming!" said Brae as she quickly got back to her feet. "You can smell it near the floor a lot sooner than you can when you are standing."

"That is because it has the property of being heavier than air, my friend," said Keazar as he regained his composure. "Until we are safely away from it, we may have to take our rest breaks on our feet, I'm afraid."

"How will we ever be away from it, if it's constantly advancing on our position?" Linit worriedly asked.

Calmly, I said, "It moves relatively slowly, or it has so far. We will just have to outdistance it, and then time our rest periods accordingly. It might be a good idea to drink some fluids now, while we can, to replenish those we have sweated out. We won't stop again until we are a safe distance from it. At that time, we'll eat and rest."

No one argued, as the sound of water gurgling down parched throats quickly filled the dark, stale air. It only made sense to me that Keazar should lead, since he would be the first one to suffer the effects of the exertion. We couldn't afford for our small group to become too widely separated in the narrow confines of the tunnel. With Keazar anywhere but up front, I was afraid that might happen. If he slowed from fatigue, everyone behind him would also slow. For all of us to travel a slower pace was much safer for the entirety of the group.

I should have known better than to worry about Keazar setting a slower pace. Like many times before, his ability to do more than simply keep up, but to actually excel beyond even the capabilities of us that were obviously more fit, never ceased to astound or amaze me. Just when I thought that I couldn't admire a man more, I discovered a new respect for him.

With Keazar leading and me bringing up the rear, we managed to maintain a pace that quickly ate up the miles. The effects of the stench had all but disappeared, being replaced with a hard-earned weariness that was the result of extended, physical exertion. Our bodies were aching in every joint, but especially in our lower backs. Just as we had been forced to run through the first part of the tunnel with our heads bowed, so were we again. The all-too-real fear of striking one's head against the jagged rock ceiling was constantly looming over us. Using our shoulders, we brushed softly against the smoother sidewalls of the tunnel to guide us. When the cramps in my lower back became too painful to stand any longer, I would put my arms out in front of my face and run for a short distance in an upright position. Gradually, though, my arms would grow weary from this stunt, and I would be forced to return to running in the slouched position.

By the time we stopped, even Brae was moaning from the pain in the small of her back. She was the shortest amongst us and, standing on her tiptoes, was still a good six inches shorter than Wary. Yet, she experienced the same subconscious tendency to stoop over as she ran through the dark of the tunnel as we did.

"We should be far enough ahead of the stench to take a sufficient break to catch up on our rest," I said, catching my breath. "But just to be on the safe side, we'll take turns standing guard. I'll take the first watch," I added before anyone else could volunteer.

"First, though, we eat and drink," suggested Keazar, as the sound of his packing hitting the floor was quickly followed by the sound of our packs doing the same.

Wary lit a small torch, sending the shadows retreating into the deeper depths of the tunnel.

"I figured that maybe we could use the torch to heat the food, also," he said defensively, catching my look of admonishment in the flickering light.

"Yeah," I replied tiredly. "You're right. This isn't exactly the jungle where someone is liable to see the flame, now is it?"

I gave him a weak smile. It was the closest thing to an apology that I could muster in my exhausted condition. Dropping heavily into a sitting position on the floor beside my pack, I began rummaging through it for something to eat. The wall against my back was hot to the touch, as was the floor, but it was better than standing on feet that were beginning to feel inflamed despite their thick calluses. For the first time, I was aware of a sharp pounding pain in the back of my head. The feeling had all the intensity and familiarity of an alcohol induced hangover. After drinking some water from a flagon handed around, I decided against eating until later. I had a feeling that if I put any food back into my empty stomach, I wasn't going to keep it down.

Sitting with my head held gingerly between my hands, hoping the action would keep it from splitting open down the middle, Loté's voice suddenly startled me when she asked if I was feeling all right.

"No," I answered her with great effort. "I don't know what's wrong. My head feels as though it's about to explode, and the light from the torch is burning my eyes."

"It seems that I have a headache, too, but not nearly as bad as yours," she said sympathetically.

"What we have, I think, would be termed a hangover," added Keazar, from where he sat with his back to the wall. Because of the narrow confines of the tunnel, he had turned his legs so that they lay parallel with it, rather than have to scrunch them up in front of him.

"I didn't have anything to drink," I offered weakly.

"It must be the residual effect of the stench, my friend. We are each feeling the effects, more or less, depending on how much exposure to the stench we received. Since you obviously inhaled more than the rest of us, you are suffering the worse for it," offered Keazar, before breaking out some jerked meat and tearing a chunk off with his teeth before handing the remainder to Linit.

As the smell of the food accosted me, I suddenly needed to get farther down the tunnel. If I remained sitting near them, I would only spoil their appetites. Although my stomach was empty from the earlier experience, it didn't keep my abdominal muscles from cramping convulsively. I had barely reached the darker shadows at the outer edge of the torchlight, when I felt a hot flush of runny feces shoot out from between the cheeks of my ass. Although it was a welcome release of pressure, the relief was only temporary. To return to the others before they finished eating would have been a cruel and unjust act.

Moving a short distance farther down the tunnel from which we had come, I found a clean spot on the floor, and sat down to wait for the others to finish their hasty meal. While I patiently waited, I couldn't help but grin at the thought of the being's expression when his stench ran into my stench. Maybe he would even slip on it and fall face first into it. "Wouldn't that be hilarious?" I thought aloud, a small chuckle escaping my lips.

"What's so funny?" asked Loté, as she slowly worked her way around the slimy area on the floor. In the shadows cast by the miniature torch, my mess was barely visible.

"Oh, just a thought I had. Nothing, really," I answered. "What are you doing back here? You should be eating with the others."

"I was worried about you," she answered softly. Then, with a tone of alarm in her voice, she asked, "Do you smell something?"

"Very cute, my love," I answered her, faking bruised feelings.

"I brought you a rubber rock," she said, sounding sincere. "I thought maybe, if you can't keep any food down, you can draw some nourishment from it instead."

"Thanks, I'll try it later. Right now, I don't think I'm even capable of holding my own saliva down."

"Here, take this," she said as she reached out in the dark and found my hand. She deposited something small and hard into my palm before saying, "Swallow it, it'll make your headache go away sooner. Keazar gave them to everyone. I feel much better already."

"What is it? Any idea?" I questioned, before putting it into my mouth. My mouth was so dry it took several swallows before finally grating past my tonsils, and sliding down my throat.

"Keazar told us, but I didn't understand a single word of what he said. He apologized for not thinking of them sooner. He said they would do wonders for the aching in our backs, also. I have to admit, until I just remembered him telling us that, I had completely forgotten about mine. The pain was unbearable when we stopped, now it doesn't hurt at all," she said almost joyously.

The speed with which the hard little pills worked was amazing. Before the discomfort of swallowing it dry had even left my throat, the pain was already subsiding in my head. With the pain subsiding, I began thinking clearly again. I suddenly realized that I still had many questions that I still wanted to ask Keazar. He probably wouldn't have the answers to most of them, if any. However, maybe something could be learned just by discussing them.

"Come on, Loté," I said softly, taking her by the arm, and guiding her back toward the flickering light. "I need to talk to Keazar. A notion just came to me and I want to hear what he has to say about it."

"A smell just came to me, and I don't want to know about it!" she replied with a smirk as our movements caused the smell of my runny feces to waft up from the floor of the tunnel.

Giving her a gentle shove forward, I squeezed her arm for effect. The pill had all but alleviated the pain in both my head and my back. Because of the emptiness in my stomach and the lack of discomfort that I was now feeling throughout the rest of my body, I suddenly discovered that I was ravenous.

"Loté, would you please find me something to eat while I have a few words with Keazar?" I asked of her as we rejoined the others.

"Sure," she replied, still fighting back the giggles as she reached for her pack and started putting something together for us to eat.

"What can I do for you, my friend?" asked Keazar, looking up from where he was sitting.

"As I'm sure you have too, I've been giving this stench a lot of thought," I began slowly, sorting my thoughts into words. "I don't know or understand nearly as much about cloning as I would like to, so maybe it would help if I were to bounce some thoughts that I've been having off of you."

"By all means. That sounds like a splendid idea," he replied with eager anticipation.

"Have you considered the possibility that the stench isn't being emitted from a being at all? I know you have said that anything is possible when a cloning attempt fails, but isn't it just as possible that someone is gassing the tunnels?"

Giving him a moment, I waited for the thought to sink in before continuing. The look on his face told me that the idea held merit with him. "The more that I think about it, the more sense it makes. Put yourself inside this evil person's mind for a minute. What would you do if you couldn't come up with enough soldiers to search all the tunnels and hallways of Heälf? I know what I would do, if I were that evil. I would kill every living thing indiscriminately with a poisonous gas. Then, with my limited number of soldiers, I would begin a methodical search for bodies. In one fell swoop, I have eliminated any and all danger to both me, and my soldiers. Basically, the soldiers would be doing little more than hauling corpses to the recycling labs. I, in turn, would be at the labs to oversee which corpses were recycled, and more importantly, which were not!"

"My good friend, I believe you may have hit on something! I feel like such a fool for not having thought of it myself. It makes perfect sense!" he cried out triumphantly.

The feeling of joy was short lived. Although we felt confident that we had figured out the reason for the stench, we still weren't any closer to figuring out how we were going to battle it. Knives and fists were useless against such an indiscriminate killer that was slowly creeping up behind us.

While these thoughts ran wild through my mind, another, more menacing question, began to push its way to the forefront; what if we run into the stench in the tunnels ahead? We could be caught like so many vermin with no place to turn. Short of holding our breath for eternity, we had no means with which to fight or defend ourselves against this weapon of indiscriminate and random mayhem.

A sudden feeling of helplessness and frustration washed over me as I balled my fist and struck it futilely against my thigh. Anger quickly replaced my feeling of impotence as I silently cursed the being that could unleash such a weapon on mankind.

"My friend," said Keazar softly. "Is there something more that you would care to share with me?"

The thought felt so ominous, I wasn't sure that I had the heart to share it, with either him, or the rest of the group. That is, until Loté reached over and handed me a thick slice of jerked meat and a larger hunk of stale cheese.

Taking the proffered food, I looked deeply into her dark, trusting eyes. Suddenly, I had no choice but to be honest with them. We had been through so much together; they had earned the right to know what I was thinking.

"There's one other thing," I added solemnly, as I looked down at my food without seeing it. Slower still, I looked back up into Loté's large, dark eyes, drawing the strength from her that I needed to continue. "There's a good chance that we will run into the stench up ahead. If we do, we'll be boxed in with nowhere to escape. If that happens, it would probably be for the best if none of your bodies were discovered with mine. Just by your association with me, it might be determined that you don't get recycled."

The silence that followed was short lived as Wary quickly pointed out that we had been in tough situations before. Although I had to agree with him, I had never felt dread and despair as deeply as I did now.

Keazar spoke next. "You are assuming much that we know nothing about. In all honesty, it is very possible that the forces behind this coup attempt don't even know who you are. If what you suggest is true, they have been working toward this end a long time before you ever arrived in the subsurface." He hesitated a moment before adding, "I do not wish to tread upon your ego, my friend, but there are many more events being played out down here than just yours."

Loté, sensing my depression, quickly added, "It's okay Rod. We may be moving toward a trap, but at least, we'll be together, amongst our friends. Keazar is right; there is a lot more going on than we can ever understand or know. We have set out on a righteous mission for the betterment of mankind, whether the forces we encounter are what we expect or otherwise, it doesn't change our ultimate goal."

Her words, combined with her genuine lack of concern over our plight, had a way of relaxing me. Although she didn't come right out and agree with Keazar, which would have bruised my ego even worse than it already was, she didn't openly disagree with him either. She had been very diplomatic, and I appreciated her all the more for it.

My appetite returned, and after wolfing down the food that Loté had prepared for me, I sat and wondered about many things. Mostly, I couldn't help wondering about what was happening with our own cloning attempts back at the lab. After having witnessed firsthand just a small sampling of what could go wrong when attempting to make a clone, I couldn't shake the dire feeling that came over me every time I thought about Lute and Elsa. Two innocently inexperienced people and we left them behind in charge of such a delicate operation. Drawing some comfort from the fact that they had been left instructions by the master of recycling himself, I still would have felt better knowing that Keazar was there with his own hands firmly on the controls.

However, Keazar wasn't there. He was here with us. Whatever happened back at the lab was beyond our ability to control. Even if we had known, or been made aware of the trouble that had befallen Lute and Elsa, we were too committed to our undertaking to turn back now.

### **7**

Shortly after the party set out on its mission, things started happening back at the lab. Way ahead of Keazar's predicted schedule, Lute noticed the soldier's vital signs on the monitor begin to increase. Fearing that he had done something wrong, he frantically signaled Elsa through the glass windows of the control room.

Working her way along one of the farther aisles from the control room, Elsa saw Lute waving his arms at her, and merely waved back in acknowledgment. Assuming that he was only being his usually friendly self, she continued along her destined route, checking and double-checking the occupants of the capsules. Even if Lute was trying to get her attention for another reason, she was sure that he was simply over-reacting, and continued taking her time in working her way back to the control room.

Ever since she had been given the responsibility of watching over the developing clones, she was aware of a distinct change that had come over her. Unlike the revulsion that Lute experienced every time he looked in on one of the developing bodies, she had found it extremely fascinating, almost to the point of mesmerizing. She began spending ever more time walking the aisles. Her passion for the developing clones had grown to the point where she was spending every waking moment in the lab. With growing anticipation, she looked forward to the time when they could begin to resuscitate them. Her feelings grew toward these incredible phenomena with the same rapture that a mother would experience toward a baby growing in her womb.

To Lute, who had never aspired to being anything more than a good soldier, all the high tech equipment surrounding him was nothing short of intimidating. He found it extremely disgusting that a human being could be grown from pieces of flesh stripped from another human being's body. Watching the instruments as they monitored the individual incubators was as close to the growing clones as he cared to get. Spending all of his time in the glass-walled room, he stayed as far from the incubator capsules as he could, without literally leaving the lab. It wasn't that he was even remotely interested in the dials and gauges that lined the control room walls, constantly clicking off the progress of the developing beings; it was just much more bearable than being out on the floor next to them.

This was, of course, in direct contrast to Elsa's interest in the process. While Lute couldn't be dragged out on the lab floor for anything, Elsa spent almost all of her time in the lab, wondering gloriously among the glass-covered capsules. Out on the floor, she could keep a constant vigil on the progress of the beings, beings that she had come to think of as her children.

When she looked up and saw that Lute was still waving at her through the glass of the control room wall, it was with a small amount of annoyance that she turned and waved to indicate that she was on her way. She couldn't understand why he absolutely refused to join her during her many walks through the aisles of capsules. "Maybe we don't have as much in common as I'd thought after all," she remarked bitterly to no one in particular as she made her way slowly back toward the control room.

Upon entering the control room, Lute quickly hurried over to the wall that contained the monitors for the incubators and, still acting agitated, motioned for her to join him. Her irritation was quickly replaced with curiosity as she drew up to his side.

"Look at this!" he said breathlessly. "This is the monitor connected to the soldier in number twelve," he continued excitedly, pointing toward a large round gauge with several smaller dials inside it. "According to this, his vital signs are almost to the normal level!"

"Isn't that supposed to happen?" she asked, perplexed by his excitement, and unable to disguise the irritation that was creeping back into her voice.

"Yes, but according to Keazar, it shouldn't be happening this soon. It's supposed to be more gradual, happening over a much longer period of time," he replied excitedly. "This monitor shows an almost completed recyclee! If this is correct, he's already breathing on his own!"

"I have to see this," she said briskly, excitement quickly crowding out her budding irritation as her thoughts turned to seeing the soldier in the capsule. Although she wasn't nearly as concerned about the soldier's progress as she was the clone's, the excitement of resuscitating her first, living being, was proving to be more than she could resist.

She had already turned and was hurrying out the door when he yelled after her, "Don't go out there, Elsa! We can keep an eye on things from in here!"

"Don't be silly!" she yelled back excitedly, just barely getting the words out before the door swung shut between them.

Running as fast as she could, she headed directly toward capsule number twelve, the one containing the soldier from the advance skirmish in the cavern. She had become so familiar with the capsules that she could have found it in the dark.

Until this moment, she had found the soldier's capsule to be the least interesting. Except for the stab wound in his chest, which was almost indistinguishable and healing rapidly, there really wasn't anything of interest to watch. The ones containing the smaller tissue samples were much more interesting and had, therefore, occupied much more of her time and attention.

Reaching the capsule, she hurriedly looked in. A small gasp of surprise escaped her lips; the soldier was fully awake and looking back at her!

"My God!" she cried softly, reaching for the latches that would release the Plexiglas cover, "We have to get you out of there!"

As Lute watched her from the door of the control room, still too intimidated to follow her, he recognized immediately what she was intending to do. Frantically, he yelled to her from the doorway, unsure if he dared venture out to her. "Elsa, Stop! Don't open that!"

Vaguely, from what seemed a far off distance, Elsa heard someone calling to her, warning her. In her excitement, she ignored this voice of warning. To her detriment, she also ignored the most critical instructions that had ever been given to her.

Methodically, she undid the latches, oblivious of the danger that was lurking within. Despite Keazar's most strident instructions, what she didn't do was wait for Lute. Keazar couldn't have tried harder to emphasize the importance to them that Lute should be standing guard before any capsule was opened. He might as well have been talking to a corpse for all the good it would do Elsa. Granted, Keazar's concern had been with the capsules containing the clones and not the soldiers. Nevertheless, his instructions had been completely ignored.

Lute was a soldier at heart, and as such, was always armed with a knife. Elsa, on the other hand, was a maidservant. Except for using a knife for preparing food, she had never needed to handle one. It was with much reluctance that she had agreed to wear one now, despite the unrest of the planet's population. The only reason that she had acquiesced, and was wearing one now, was for the handiness it afforded her when laying out meals away from the food prepping room. For her to ever think of using one in self-defense was out of the question; it might as well have been left in the dining hall.

With the latches undone, she grabbed the lip of the lid, and gave an upward push. A loud hiss escaped as the seal was prematurely broken. She was only vaguely aware that Lute had retreated farther back into the control room. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that he was turning dials and doing everything that Keazar had instructed him to do. What she didn't know was that he was frantically trying to terminate the soldier's grip on his new life. Lute had become overwhelmed by an uncontrollable fear that the soldier was about to escape. What he was hurriedly doing now was something that Keazar had given him instructions on how to perform, without Elsa's knowledge. In his foresight, he had wanted Lute prepared for the unknown that might come out of the capsules. Although no one else was aware of this fact, especially Elsa, Keazar had planted the knowledge with Lute much as he would have installed a fail-safe switch. It was his last line of defense, if things should go wrong.

In the back of Lute's subconscious, this knowledge might also have played a part in why he refused to leave the control room.

Before his efforts could come into play, and the apparatus could inject the poisons that would put the soldier back to sleep, Elsa had already disconnected the myriad of tubes and wires from the body.

The soldier, suddenly free from his restraints, sat up and assessed the situation, his eyes quickly coming to rest on the knife hanging forgotten from Elsa's hip. Innocently, if not naively, Elsa was too caught up in the moment to notice the soldier's intent. Gently, she reached out to him, offering him assistance to climb out of the capsule.

To her surprise, the soldier clumsily planted his feet against the inside wall of the capsule and lurched forward, intending on tackling Elsa and stripping the knife from her hip. To his surprise and dismay, he had overestimated the returning strength in his newly restored limbs; his efforts only propelled him to a precarious position on the lip of the capsule.

But his efforts had caught Elsa by surprise. Startled, she jumped back, losing her balance. Reaching out to steady herself, she inadvertently grabbed the soldiers left forearm, pulling him with her, over the lip of the capsule.

In a heap of tangled legs and arms, they landed on the floor, the soldier's full weight coming down heavily on top of Elsa's slim, petite figure, knocking the wind from her lungs and pinning her to the floor.

Stunned and unable to catch her breath, Elsa remained oblivious of the soldier's intent, and in a dazed state of mind, continued trying to help him, as she struggled to separate herself from him and get to her feet. Unfortunately, the soldier outweighed her by better than two hundred pounds. With his shear mass alone, he kept her immobilized while clumsily pulling the knife from her sheath.

Elsa, realizing too late exactly what was happening, cried out for Lute's help, just as the soldier used his free hand like a club, striking her violently across the face. A loud crack rocketed through her ears, as her head was flung viciously to the right from the force of the blow, and sent crashing against her own shoulder. Feeling only warmness from the neck down, a sick feeling pervaded her senses, as she realized immediately that there wasn't any pain. Even when the back of her head landed solidly on the hard white floor, it felt as if she were experiencing it from a thousand miles away. It was much more a feeling of sympathy pain; the kind of pain experienced when something terrible happens to someone else, and not you, than actual pain.

Futilely, she screamed for Lute to help her, but this time no sound escaped her lips, just a wet gurgling noise that sounded foreign to her ears. Everything suddenly felt surreal. This couldn't be happening to her. She had never intentionally hurt anyone, and she couldn't comprehend why someone would try to hurt her, especially, when all she had ever shown the unknown soldier was sympathy and compassion.

Fighting against his own weight and the pull of the planet's gravity, the soldier slowly raised himself to a kneeling position over her desperate form. As he looked down at her, she noticed for the first time that he was holding her knife in his beefy right hand. Pleading with her eyes for mercy from this man that she had just helped bring back to life, she saw nothing in his but a bottomless pool of black; she knew there would be no mercy forthcoming from this man. She had seen enough corpses to recognize that the eyes were those of the dead, even if the body was alive.

Closing her eyes, she silently prepared for the wound that would bring on the ultimate darkness. She was suddenly thankful that the soldier had snapped her neck. Now, at least, she would die painlessly. She heard, and recognized, the sound of a knife cutting through human flesh. The sound was immediately followed by another sound, a harsh raspy sound. She had heard this sound too often before to not recognize it; it was the sound of a knife scraping over bone. Despite her not feeling anything, she knew she was only a matter of seconds from death. Slowly, the dark would begin to crowd out the light that filtered through her eyelids from the ceiling above. Elsa knew she was dying. Closing her eyes tighter against the inevitable, she resigned herself to this fact; although this was far from the first time that she had died, it was only the second time that she feared the dark that was coming. The first time she had feared the dark had also been the first time that she'd been recycled and didn't know what to expect.

When what seemed like an eternity had passed and nothing had happened, she forced herself to open her eyes. Standing over her was not the overgrown ape of a soldier, but only her loving Lute. He was pulling the limp corpse of the once-again dead soldier off her numb body and dragging it to the side. Despite being unable to turn her head, her field of vision took in the sight of the soldier's head as it dangled from the rest of its body. In his moment of rage, Lute had almost severed it from the body. Except for a few bloody strands of skin and muscle ligaments, it would have fallen free.

He quickly turned back to her, concern and worry etched into his handsome face. "I'm sorry, Lute," she cried softly, forcing her words to be heard while enduring the first sensations of pain since the soldier lunged at her from the incubator capsule.

"It's all right, Elsa. I'll take care of you," he gently responded to her whimpering, his heart threatening to climb up into his throat and cut off his air supply.

As she watched in silence, he slipped his arms under her, and gently lifted her broken body to his chest. It hurt her deeply to see the worry in his eyes as he carried her into the control room and laid her down on one of the long benches beneath the row of windows.

Working quickly, he assessed her damages. He didn't need Keazar to tell him that unless he recycled her, she was going to die. Having watched Keazar and Linit prepare the tissue specimens for the cloning operation, he knew what needed to be done. The connections of tubes and wires to the body were almost self-explanatory, but he was at a total loss when it came to adjusting the controls on the wall. From where she lay, she could see the indecision on his face as he fought over what he should do next. Although the machine was somewhat forgiving, it would only take one adjustment too far off, and he might only succeed in turning her body into a smoldering pile of un-recyclable ash. He was acutely aware of this fact, the same as she was.

"You have to do it, Lute," she voice growing fainter with each dwindling breath, as she struggled to be heard through her quickly swelling throat.

"I'm not sure that I can," he answered her, fighting back the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes.

"You must," she pleaded, her voice quickly fading as she found it increasingly difficult to breathe. "I won't blame you for whatever happens."

"Maybe we can wait until Keazar and the others return. I'll make you comfortable. It won't be so bad. I swear it!"

"Time isn't on my side, Lute. You have to do it. Now!" she half cried half moaned as her breath came in shorter and shorter gasps, finally stopping altogether.

Without another word, he gently picked her up in his strong, capable arms, and carried her back into the lab. Selecting the nearest unoccupied capsule to the control room, he carefully laid her body in it. As he leaned over her, a tear fell from his eye, landing on her left breast. It glistened in the harsh white light like a solitary star in the night. He knew that he should remove any foreign matter that might contain DNA not belonging to her, but he couldn't bring himself to touch her firm, smooth breast. The memories that such an innocent act could evoke would be too much for him to handle.

Instead, looking into her eyes, he said, "I love you, Elsa."

There was no answering reply, only the vacant stare of her already cloudy eyes. Moving briskly, but careful not to make any mistakes, he hooked the hoses and wires to her inert form. He shed a few more tears on her as he did so. These, he also left to dry where they landed. He had a difficult time inserting the smaller hoses into her groin, but the real hurdle came when he had to insert the even tinier tubes into her nipples. He had never given it much thought when he was growing up. Now, however, he understood more completely about his breast fetish. Willingly and unashamedly, he had admitted that Elsa's breasts had drawn him to her in the first place. Not only had he acknowledged this to himself, but also soon after meeting her, he had told her about his fetish, and why he found her so attractive. Her breasts were hardly the largest he had ever seen. It was quite the opposite, actually. However, they were by far the firmest breasts he had ever fondled. Nothing had ever excited him more than the way her nipples grew erect when she became aroused.

As he inserted the last tiny tube into her left breast, he knew in his heart that he would probably never see her nipples erect again.

With all the wires and tubes connected, he slowly lowered the clear cover before hesitantly fastening the latches. He felt confident that up to this point he had done everything correctly. Before heading back to the control room, he took a long last look through the clear cover of the capsule. Lingering over her, he hesitated, a growing fear of failure preventing him from doing what he needed to.

Eventually, overcoming his fear, at least temporarily, he entered the control room. He remembered all too clearly the remark he had overheard Keazar making to Linit, "One miscalculation, and instead of a living, breathing human being, you get nothing more than a burnt piece of toast for your trouble."

Because of the serious and meticulous manner Keazar adopted when performing the final adjustments, Lute harbored no doubts that this was a true statement. All it would take was one miscalculation, and he would never see the woman that he had come to love again. For both his and Elsa's sake, he could not afford that one miscalculation; Elsa had come to mean so much more to him than anyone else ever had.

Looking at the settings for the capsule that had contained the soldier, he finally decided that he would set hers the same. Based on the soldier's size alone, he knew he was taking a big gamble. Yet, logic suggested to him that if the soldier didn't need much incubating, then why should his beloved Elsa? In his estimation, her injuries were more serious than the soldier's, but her smaller size would make up the difference.

Since he had nothing else to go by, he quickly made the adjustments before he could change his mind. With her now dead, and unable to argue with him, he was finding it hard to resist the temptation to wait until knowledgeable help arrived. With her out of pain, they could wait for many days. However, the longer that he put off starting the process, the more precise he would have to be with the settings. When he considered the very real possibility that people with more knowledge than himself might never arrive, he shrugged off his lingering doubts, and hastily moved forward.

With the adjustments made and all the dials set, he threw the switch that started the recycling process. There wasn't any noise or bells to signify that anything spectacular had been set into motion. There was no whirring or buzzing or the sound of gears turning. Not that he was concerned by this lack of noise, he didn't expect any; he knew the machines were absolutely quiet. Only when you stood next to a capsule that was running were you aware of any sound. He heard those encouraging sounds now as he returned to stand next to Elsa's capsule and look longingly in on his beloved. Only an hour ago, he had a hard time setting foot in the lab. Now that Elsa was lying helplessly in front of him, he couldn't bring himself to leave.

"We can only wait and see, now, Elsa. May the gods guide your spirit," he whispered softly before kissing her through the clear cover.

Slowly, he turned, and begrudgingly left the side of her capsule. He felt he had been too long from his observation post in the control room as he returned to the slain soldier. He still felt uneasy out in the lab, but for now, he found that he could push the feeling aside. Hauling the dead soldier's body to the door, he quickly dragged it outside, then hurried back into the lab, closing the door securely behind him. He had contemplated putting the body in a capsule and experimenting with it, but had just as quickly discarded the idea. It had never been in his nature to seek revenge, or to unnecessarily inflict pain on another human being.

After satisfying himself with the lock on the door, he headed back into the control room to check on the rest of the capsules. What he discovered both shocked and amazed him. While he had been busy setting up Elsa in the incubator, a clone had miraculously, and mysteriously, jumped ahead of the other clones in its state of progress. Within a few hours at most, maybe sooner, Lute was about to have a visitor.

If he had possessed even a small amount of Keazar's knowledge, he would have known immediately that what was happening was not necessarily a good thing. But he didn't possess Keazar's vast knowledge, and thus, had no way of knowing what was actually taking place. Beyond his usual feeling of unease toward the clones, the phenomenon that was rapidly taking place meant nothing to him beyond the realization that a clone was almost finished.

Of much more importance to him than the mere fact that one of the clones was developing well ahead of schedule was the identity of the clone. He would have to enter the lab and visually verify what the gauges told him, but he already suspected they were correct. He also suspected that the clone about to come out of the incubator possessed much more knowledge of the recycling machines than he did. In fact, Lute felt confident that this clone would know exactly how to recycle his Elsa.

In his excitement, he quickly forgot all the warnings that had been given to him. Meticulous instructions that had been painstakingly stressed to him by Keazar were completely forgotten. To Lute, what did they matter? Keazar was about to be reborn! The capsule that had miraculously, if not a bit mysteriously, jumped ahead of schedule, was none other than the capsule that contained the developing clone of the master of recycling, Keazar!

After satisfying his curiosity that none of the other capsules had done likewise, he determined that it would be best if he risked venturing out into the lab and visually verifying the identity for himself. He was still nervous about entering the lab, but in his excitement, he couldn't even remember why. Stopping by Elsa's capsule, he longingly looked in on her. It was silly to expect to see any change in her condition for at least a day, and then only if he had managed to come close on the adjustments he had made. Nevertheless, he couldn't help stopping and looking in with anticipation.

His heart slowed to its normal rate, realizing there was no change; she looked the same as when he left her last. Moving slowly at first and then quickening his pace, he felt the fear of being in the lab encroaching on the fringes of his consciousness. Where this fear and dread stemmed from, he didn't know exactly, because it was very irrational. But he felt it just the same.

By the time he reached the capsule containing the almost-finished form of Keazar, he was breathing hard and his heart was pounding in his chest. Satisfied with what he saw when he looked into the capsule, he hurried, almost running back to the control room. Though the air in the lab was controlled and kept at a constant temperature, his forehead was beaded with perspiration. He had meant to look in on the other clones, but once gripped by the irrational fear that closed in on him whenever he entered the lab, he had been unable to remain in the lab long enough to do so.

Sitting on the hard bench in the control room, he suddenly started shaking, gripped by a chill that seemed to emanate from his very core. Crossing his arms in front of his chest, while his teeth chattered in his head, he began to wonder what had come over the soldier. Elsa hadn't meant him any harm. It was absolutely insane, the way the soldier harbored but one conscious thought, and that was to kill her.

Slowly it dawned on him; that soldier reacted the way he did because he had been ordered to kill the resistance. In this case, the resistance must have been anyone that wasn't wearing a soldier's uniform with the same insignia as his own. Lute suddenly felt sure that he understood now what Keazar had been talking about earlier when he had said that the clones didn't have any souls. Thinking of what the soldier had done to Elsa, without any provocation, made him shake even harder.

Why the recycling process had taken so little time didn't make any sense to him. According to Keazar, the soldier that attacked Elsa should only have been half finished. He should have needed to remain in the incubator for again as long as he had been. And even then, he should just begin to exhibit the most rudimentary of vital signs. He should not have had the strength to leap out of the capsule the way he had. And now, a clone was already nearing completion! None of this was making any sense to him as he nervously glanced up at the dials and gauges connected to the Keazar clone's capsule.

Keazar's clone was more than twice as far ahead as the other clones. Yet, even as he looked at the dials, he discovered that the others had also started progressing at more than twice the norm.

He began to question his memory regarding the instructions that Keazar had left with him. Maybe he didn't remember them correctly. But even as he wrestled with his self-doubt, he knew the gauges on the wall weren't lying. It took only one look at the Keazar clone to see that something very strange was going on here. Whatever it was, Lute felt certain that Keazar and the others should know about it, and not the Keazar that was about to climb out of the incubator.

He began wishing that he had Elsa with which to share his concerns. Although she might not be able to make any more sense out of it than he could, she would be able to put his mind to rest concerning the instructions left for them.

As he continued sitting on the bench, staring blankly at the gauges, a light suddenly started blinking, followed by a soft buzzing sound that continued to grow in volume. Startled, he jumped off the bench before realizing what the sound meant.

Though he quickly recognized the alarms for what they were, it was with growing trepidation and concern that he approached the controls. Hesitantly, he started cycling them down. As he neared the end of the preparations that could be performed from inside the control room, he considered the precautions that he would take before releasing the latches securing the cover. He would not repeat the mistake that Elsa had so unwittingly made. Forewarned meant forearmed, were the words taught to him as a foot soldier. Now, more than ever, he would heed that advice.

Methodically, he set the dials according to Keazar's instructions. When the dials were set and the gauges showed the desired readings, also per Keazar's instructions, he slowly turned and looked in the direction of the capsule in question. As he turned, the small hairs at the nape of his neck began to stand on end. Some feeling, deep down inside, had him convinced that when his eyes came around to the capsule, he was not going to see a clone of Keazar at all. Instead, he would see a grotesque, evil monster leering back at him. He could feel the skin on his forehead stretching tight with dread and anticipation. Instinctively, his right hand dropped to the hilt of the knife hanging over his right hip. A stronger feeling told him that his weapon would be ineffectual against the evil that exerted its presence out to him.

When he had turned enough to put the capsule in his range of vision, it took all of his strength to raise his eyes from the floor and look. What he saw was the same thing he had been seeing since first coming into the lab, a capsule with a tangle of wires and tubes leading from it. From where he stood, he was unable to see the prostrate body contained within. But there also wasn't any evil, grotesque monster looking back out at him, either.

Taking a deep breath, he let out a long sigh. Feeling extremely foolish, he was suddenly glad that Elsa hadn't been there to see the fear that had come over him. His body was covered in perspiration, and he stunk terribly, but not with the smell of regular body odor; he was reeking with the stench of fear. It oozed from the pores of his flesh, mingling with his sweat, and lingering in the air surrounding him. Elsa would have thought that he was being silly if she were here; nothing seemed to scare her. She embraced an outlook on life that said, "Whatever will be, will be, and whatever we do isn't going to change it."

Wishing he had some of that courage now, he hesitantly headed toward the door leading into the main lab. Full of dread, and still gripped by his unreasonable fear, he pushed his unwilling body forward. He was driven only by the knowledge that he had to release the latches and disconnect the body from the multitude of wires and tubes if he expected to get any help from it. He was sustained by a feeling of confidence that he hadn't screwed up the settings too badly. He may not have them set for the fasted revival of his beloved, but neither had he turned her into ashes. Nevertheless, with a being that possessed Keazar's knowledge about to arrive, he would have someone capable of checking over his work and doing the fine-tuning. Buoyed by the thought of being reunited with Elsa, he held his dread at bay.

Before entering the lab, he stopped and took a deep breath. He was fighting an urge to run to the capsule containing Keazar's clone, do what needed doing, and then run back to the relative safety of the control room. Continuing to fight the urge, he went instead to Elsa's capsule. His hand rested on the hilt of his knife. It was a subconscious thing. It would probably remain there, without his being aware of it, until he needed his right hand or the weapon.

"Elsa," he said softly as he looked down at her beautiful face. "I'm so sorry that I let you down. I should have been there protecting you."

He could feel a longing for her rising in his breast and continued as if she could hear him. "It won't be much longer now. The Keazar clone is coming around already! Can you believe that? It should be days away from completion! And yet, even though it is only a clone, according to Keazar it will possess all of his knowledge. The first thing I'll have him do is check on your settings. He might be able to speed up your process. Just look at his own speed!" He paused for a moment before adding, "I'll check in on you again when I'm finished with him. I love you, Elsa. I'm so sorry."

Feeling much better, even if she could not hear him or respond to him, his right hand slid from its resting place on the hilt of his knife. Slowly it moved up until it rested palm-side down beside his other hand against the clear glass cover of the incubator. He stood there, lingering over her. Suddenly, shattering his moment of tranquility, a sharp knocking sound struck his ears, immediately startling him out of his reverie.

Jumping back from the capsule, he turned toward the source of the noise, his knife already in his right hand. Only then did he realize that the sound he had heard was none other than the clone of Keazar. It had gained consciousness while he was preoccupied with Elsa, and was knocking on the glass cover, demanding to be let out. Smiling and grinning through the clear cover, it waved at him as though he were a long lost friend. It was a smile that was both eerie and disarming, yet radiating with kindness. So much so, in fact, that he unwittingly re-sheathed his knife and started toward the capsule. The face that watched him approach was so disarming that he actually felt embarrassed by his earlier fear. Trying hard to suppress his embarrassment, he almost hurried toward the capsule that contained the Keazar clone for fear of upsetting him by keeping him waiting.

Quickly, he undid the auxiliary latches that would have kept the being securely locked inside. Then, with total abandon of caution, he helped the being raise the lid, the last thing that stood between them.

Suddenly, as if a spell had been broken, he realized that he was repeating the same steps that had led to Elsa's dire fate. Involuntarily, he drew in his breath and flinched at the thought. Awkwardly, almost losing his balance, he sprang backwards, away from the capsule while simultaneously drawing his knife. He landed hard, his back coming up against the capsule directly behind him, giving him something against which to steady himself.

Standing in this defensive position with his weapon held out in front of him, the being said in a very jovial, reassuring manner, "Hold on there, my friend! I mean you no harm. I am Keazar, at your service."

Remaining where he stood for a moment longer, he assessed the being that not only looked like Keazar, but also sounded like him. It was uncanny, especially since he knew the real Keazar was in fact many miles away.

"Please, my good man, if you would be so kind as to give me a little assistance here," said the being that resembled Keazar.

"I'm sorry if I don't appear to trust you. My name is Lute. What shall I call you?" he asked nervously, bordering on shock.

"Why, I am Keazar! What else would you call me?"

"Okay," Lute said after thinking about it for a minute. "We'll call you Keazar, but only until the real Keazar returns."

"You say, 'we'. Is there more than just you?" he asked suspiciously, making an exaggerated display of looking around the room.

"Yes. There's a woman here, also. Unfortunately, she is in a capsule being recycled," he answered before the next thought struck him. "I'll tell you what, Keazar. If you want to prove yourself, show me that I can trust you."

"Anything, my friend. Just ask it of me, and I'll set your distrust aside," he answered almost jovially.

"There is something that I need you to do for me."

Despite his difficulty referring to this being in the capsule as Keazar, at the same time, he couldn't help feeling that this man really was Keazar. If Keazar and the others had run into trouble and been killed, then the beings that are here really would be who they resemble. Keazar had said that if something should happen to them, these beings would be the new hosts of their souls. That would make these beings complete in every way.

The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. The man that he called Keazar just might be the real Keazar. Until he proved to be otherwise, at least, he would have to be the man he proclaimed to be. Still, he told himself quietly, he would not let his guard down around him. He would do his best to treat the jovial man with all the respect due a friend. However, he would also keep a very close eye on him, at least until he had his Elsa back.

"Just help me out of here and show me the way, my good man," answered the Keazar being jovially.

Being careful to keep his body turned, so the knife on his hip was always just a little bit out of the being's reach, Lute helped him out of the capsule. Once the big man had gotten his feet firmly planted beneath him, though, Lute was quick to step back, stopping just beyond his reach.

"Now, my good man, what is it that I can do for you?" he asked, making a show of not acknowledging Lute's obvious distrust of him.

"It's the woman that I told you about in the incubator," he said slowly, still not convinced that he was doing the right thing. A troublesome thought leaped to the forefront of his mind; what if this being, which insisted on being called Keazar, did the opposite of what he wanted him to do? What if instead of recycling her, he took the opportunity to fry her? With his own limited knowledge of the recycling machine, it would be too late for Elsa before he could stop him. Of course, he would kill the big man, but that wouldn't bring his Elsa back.

Leading the way to the incubator that contained her body, Lute appreciated the way the big man followed him at a safe distance, even if he was doing it solely to set him at ease. The man was trying to win his confidence, casually, but subtly. Not escaping his attention also, was the way in which the big man was checking out the other capsules. Lute couldn't help but think that he was doing it too casually, almost too offhand. He would have been less suspicious if he had just come out and asked Lute about them, the way the real Keazar would have done.

Before reaching Elsa's capsule, Lute shook the suspicious feeling off, chalking it up to a severe case of paranoia. So much had happened so fast. His nerves were raw and frayed, leaving him skeptical of something as innocent as a normal reaction. After all, he thought to himself, he would be interested in what was going on around him too, if he had just been resuscitated. Besides, this was Keazar's territory. This is where all his memories stemmed from for the last several thousand years. In a way, it was much like a homecoming for the big man.

When they reached the capsule, he was relieved that the big man stepped around to the opposite side from him, effectively placing Elsa between them.

"She is a beautiful woman. I can understand your concern for her. Might I ask what the nature of her accident was, I don't see any physical wounds?" he asked with concern in his voice, whether it be fake or real, Lute couldn't be sure.

But whether Keazar was faking the concern or not, it touched him just the same. It was comforting to know that someone else cared. "A heavy object fell on her, breaking her neck," he replied softly, easily avoiding the incident with the soldier.

The big man made a show of looking around the lab before replying, "What is there in here that could possibly have fallen on her, my good man?" he asked, the touch of concern still in his voice.

"It wasn't in here," he blurted before his mind could think of something more plausible. He was being subjected to a subtle form of interrogation, and he wasn't sure just how far the big man was willing to push him. Although he couldn't be sure, he didn't believe that he would be backed into a corner, thus showing his hand so soon. With his mind racing for a story that would satisfy the big man, he lied, "It happened when a banner fell in the main cavern."

"Then where is the head wound? Surely she would have a dent in the top of her head from receiving such a forceful blow," he asked, pushing Lute farther into the corner than he'd expected. They both knew that he was lying about Elsa's injury. But should he continued the lie, or force the confrontation that was inevitably coming?

"It was the banner that struck her, not the iron bar that it was draped over. The weight landed just right to break her neck. It happened so fast, I didn't know what else to do, so I brought her in here. Not until I got her here, did I realize that I didn't know how to run the recycling machine," he replied, making up the story as he went. Feeling that he was winning back the offensive against the big man, he decided to push on. "I set her up by looking at the other recyclees in the other capsules."

He hoped it wasn't obvious to the big man that, although the other clones had progressed to the stage of being complete bodies, the subject that he had used to simulate Elsa's capsule was no longer here. He suddenly wished that he'd had the foresight to reset all the dials on the incubator after disposing of the soldier's body.

The big man looked around the lab again, as if he were just doing it for the first time, and then said, "I recognize these people. However, I don't understand how they all got here."

"I will tell you how you got here, but first you must do something for me," he said quickly. He felt he was in control again, but it was a precarious position at best; he would have to tread lightly, and there was still much that he wanted the big man to do for him before their precarious positions crumbled.

"Yes, yes, my good friend," replied the big man, returning to his jovial tone of voice. "I am so rude. You have brought me back here from the darkness of death and I keep blubbering on like an idiot. I am so sorry. Please, tell me what it is that I can do for you."

"It's like I told you. I set the dials and hooked her up by seeing how the others were set up. Yet, I am not sure that I have done it correctly. If you..."

"I understand completely!" he said, not giving him a chance to finish. "You want me to double check all of your settings so that this beautiful young woman, whom you so lovingly call Elsa, can be returned that much faster to the world of the living."

"Yes, exactly!" Lute excitedly agreed.

"Then let me begin," he said merrily, moving around the capsule toward Lute. With Lute stepping back to keep the capsule between them, the big man went on, "I cannot risk opening the lid at this point, you understand, but it would appear that all the connections are in their proper place. Congratulations! Shall we go into the control room where I may check the settings? Even without seeing them, it would appear from her condition that you have done a miraculous job, my good man. I commend you."

"Thank you," he replied sincerely, losing his fight to keep the big man at a distance as he began to warm toward him. Silently, as they entered the control room, he reprimanded himself for his distrust toward this gentle being of a man.

"Would you be so kind as to fetch me something to drink, my good man? My throat has gotten very dry from so much talking so soon after resuscitation," he asked, heading straight toward the control panels.

In spite of his newly forming trust toward the man, he still didn't relish the thought of leaving him alone in the control room. However, he knew he would have to trust the man eventually if they were going to work together as planned. It was going to be awhile, even with his help, before Elsa would be back. And it was going to be an even longer while before the others returned from their mission, if ever.

"Sure," he answered hesitantly. "I'll get you some water."

He had stopped just inside the door and now began slowly backing out. The big man nonchalantly turned his back to him and began adjusting knobs and dials. Lute needed only a moment to realize that the man was instantly and totally absorbed in what he was doing. In even less time, he had forgotten that Lute was even there.

Once outside the control room, Lute was finally able to turn away from him. Hurriedly, he ran to the pile of supplies that were still lying where they had been left on the floor. Stepping around the pile to put them between him and the control room, he lowered himself to the cool of the floor and closed his eyes. Food and water had been left in the control room for Elsa and himself, while these supplies had been left in anticipation of the developing clone's needs. He could easily have gotten the water from their personal supplies, but after witnessing the intense concentration of the Keazar clone, he knew he wouldn't be missed for a few moments.

So much had happened so quickly, he was overcome with a strong desire for some time alone. He desperately needed to sort things out and get a handle on what had taken place so far. He still considered himself a mere soldier, and as such, he was used to taking orders. He never considered himself a quick-thinker, and the events of the last few hours had taxed him heavily.

Everything was happening too fast. First, the soldier had killed Elsa and then this Keazar clone resuscitated far ahead of schedule. Now the other clones were almost finished! None of it was making any sense. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. He found himself wishing that he had Elsa here to discuss his dilemma. She possessed a much sharper and quicker mind than he; she would know what to do. But he didn't have her counsel, so he would have to figure out what to do on his own.

He was fairly sure that he could trust this new Keazar. Yet, he still harbored many doubts about the man, doubts that his friendly, outgoing personality couldn't quite dispel. Though the man was every bit as disarming and friendly as the Keazar that he remembered, there was something about him that made Lute nervous.

After much thought, he finally decided that he would withhold final judgment on this new Keazar until he saw the results on Elsa. Determined, however, to keep his guard up, he would have to be careful not to offend the man.

Grabbing an armload of supplies, he was turning toward the control room when he was suddenly startled by a pounding on the main door. Dropping the supplies, he pulled his knife as he went toward the source of the sound. In a brief glance over his shoulder, he saw that the new Keazar had not heard, as he still had his back turned to him. Even from here, Lute could discern the intensity that absorbed the big man as he busily continued checking gauges and setting dials.

No matter how much he was willing to trust this new Keazar, he wasn't ready to explain why he couldn't let anyone into the lab. Because the old Keazar had said that recyclees, and possibly also clones, have a limited memory of the circumstances leading up to the time just before the tissue is separated from the host, Lute was still very unclear regarding how much was meant by 'limited'. Did the new Keazar already know more about what was going on here than he was letting on? Or was the new Keazar in a fugue, and trying to discern the situation as quickly as possible?

Even more troubling to Lute was the way the big man reacted toward Elsa when he looked in on her capsule. He responded as if he were seeing her for the first time. If anything convinced Lute that this clone was just that, a clone, it was his apparent lack of memory regarding things that he should know about. It wasn't much to base his judgment on. But as a many time recyclee himself, he had always remembered every incident leading right up until death.

Since he didn't know how the new Keazar would react if he gave him all the details of their current situation, in a blurry second, he decided that he would keep the details from him for as long as possible. In fact, if he could, he would keep the new Keazar in the dark until Elsa returned from the dead. Meanwhile, he needed to devise a plan concerning the other clones. Right now, he didn't have a clue as to what he was going to do when they started resuscitating. Although he'd been instructed to use the clones to fool outsiders into believing everyone was still in the lab, no one had given him specific instructions regarding how!

As he reached the door, he threw a quick glance over his shoulder just to satisfy himself again that the new Keazar was still oblivious to what was happening. Satisfied, he pushed a button that would allow him to speak to whoever was outside without having to open the door. He listened for a moment before asking, "Who's there?"

In addition to the silence of the speaker, he could distinguish the sound of breathing. They were short, raspy breaths. But more importantly, he was unable to tell how many beings were responsible for them. Another moment passed while he continued listening. As the breathing subdued, he could hear whispering in the background. All doubts that he might have had that it was just one being were quickly dispelled.

"Who's there?" he asked, putting more force into his request. When they failed to answer again, he considered turning off the two-way talking device and simply ignoring them. Confident that the door was impregnable to anything short of a powerful detonating device, he knew they probably could not gain entrance to the lab. Yet, just as quickly as he considered this option, he just as quickly rejected it. To ignore them would only force them to resume their banging on the door, and that would eventually attract the new Keazar's attention, something that he wasn't ready to deal with.

His only option was to deal with the intruders himself and to do it swiftly. He needed to get them to leave before they drew the attention of the big man in the control room. If he was lucky, they might turn out to be nothing more than a few hapless refugees looking for shelter or supplies.

"Speak up now, man!" he said sternly, keeping his mouth close to the speaker piece so that his voice wouldn't carry inside the lab.

"It's Carg and Greg. We bring corpses to the lab for recycling. We are under orders of the great Keazar!" said a male voice, slightly distorted by the speaking device.

"Where would the great Keazar himself be, if you have such orders from him?" Lute asked, again keeping his mouth close to the speaking device as he turned his head back just enough to keep an eye on the new Keazar within the control room.

Lute waited while he strained his ears to make out the faint whispering on the far side of the door. Unable to decipher distinct words, he reasoned that they were discussing the situation among themselves. Feeling confident that he had judged the situation correctly, he could almost imagine them arguing over whether they should stay with their original story, which wasn't working as well as they had hoped, or try a different tack.

"He is in the lab and we demand to speak with him!" came a new voice through the speaker device.

Lute's confidence was suddenly shattered. How could they have knowledge of the new Keazar? Were they indeed sent by Rod and the others? As quickly, as the thought came to him, he just as quickly discounted it! If that were so, they would have known to expect him to greet them at the door, and that his orders were explicit about not letting them in. One thing he was sure of, he wasn't happy with where this was going.

A new and more troubling thought suddenly came to him: What if they were bluffing? But just as suddenly as this new thought came to him, so did a new set of problems. If he denied them access to the lab, the result could be as catastrophic as convincing them that Keazar wasn't here. If they learned, or even suspected, that the real Keazar wasn't here, it would only be a matter of time before they figured out where he was, or at least, where he might be headed. If they knew that information, it could ruin Rod's plans, maybe even get them all killed. That was, after all, the main reason for the clones, to prevent anyone from knowing where the real Keazar and Rod were.

Lute suddenly realized that if he were going to protect Rod and the others, he would have to bring the new Keazar into his confidence. If he couldn't persuade the new Keazar to talk through the speaker device and convince the beings that he was the real Keazar, all would be lost; a feeling that Lute felt more convinced of than any other that he'd had since Elsa's demise. With his newly found determination, he was about to tell them through the speaker device that he would go get Keazar, when he was suddenly startled by a voice just a few feet behind him.

"You are obviously not letting them bring those corpses in here for a reason, my good man. Would you mind explaining that to me? Recycling corpses is what we do here, after all."

"I'm sorry, Keazar," he began humbly, hoping to explain the situation so that the new Keazar would understand and abet him in his plight. "But they aren't corpse scavengers. They're soldiers that have come to take over this lab. If they have any corpses with them, it would be the one that I threw out there after killing him myself," he added, a trace of anger in his voice directed toward the dead soldier.

"Then, my good man, shouldn't I tell them to get lost?" he asked, using his trademark 'Keazar' voice.

Lute suddenly felt a great weight lifting from his shoulders as a new feeling of trust and comradeship welled up inside him. He suddenly wanted to tell this new Keazar how relieved he was because of the quickness with which he'd been able to grasp the situation. However, his voice caught in his throat. Overcome with emotion and relief, his voice was all but lost to him.

Stepping aside to make room for the new Keazar to get closer to the speaker device, Lute blushed as the big man smiled and winked at him. This show of comradery was almost more than he could stand, when suddenly, and without warning, the new Keazar pushed the door release.

Before Lute could turn and run for the control room, and any chance that he might have of attaining a defendable position, the soldiers came crashing through the open doorway with their long-knives drawn. In private, Lute had always fancied himself as a formidable opponent with a long-knife. Unfortunately, he was vastly outnumbered.

As the onslaught came, he valiantly struck out with his weapon. Stabbing and parrying, he drew first blood. But to his dismay, there were more soldiers than even ten men with his capabilities could have warded off. Their sheer numbers were vastly and swiftly overwhelming.

Feeling the keen edge of a knife as it sliced through the flesh beneath his left arm, he spun to face the attacker from that side. As he turned, another blade slipped in under his thrust, slicing open a second, more vicious wound, across his belly. His life's blood flowed rapidly from his wounds, splattering starkly against the white floor. His legs were growing weak from the enormous amount of blood he was losing. No longer able to support himself, he fell forward, his weapon slipping from his blood-covered fingers. Numbly, he was aware of being struck about the head and shoulders, but his body no longer registered the pain.

Through his blurring vision, one sight remained clearly etched across his mind; it was the smile of innocence. Burned into the tightly woven fabric of his soul by the heinous act of betrayal was the image of Keazar looking down at him. Angry with himself for trusting the man, he screamed a futile curse.

"Damn you!"

Looking down at him, the smile of innocence impaled across the corpulent face, was the new Keazar, a bloodstained knife in his right hand. Crying out with anger at his betrayer, the sound of his voice was abruptly muted as the knife of another sliced smoothly through his throat.

Still refusing to die, he continued staring up into the grinning face of the fat man, his eyes defiantly pleading for mercy. Not for himself, did he plead, but for the poor unsuspecting woman that he had now let down for the second time since falling in love with her. His torment came ripping through his anguished soul when he thought of her resuscitation at the hands of such evil, and his helplessness to prevent it. She would be so vulnerable and unsuspecting. He screamed in anguish at his failure, but no sound issued forth from his bloodied lips.

Slowly, as the bright lights of the ceiling grew dimmer, so did his thoughts. All thoughts, that is, except for one. One thought remained with him as his soul crossed over into that place of timelessness; a place not unlike purgatory, where time did not exist in the sense that mortals could understand or interpret it. That place where his soul would remain until such time as he was either recycled or cremated. One thought remained his, burning fiercely within him; when they started the cloning process in another lab with the tissues they had taken from him, he would be complete again! And when he was complete again, he would remember what had happened. He would remember so that he could warn the others. But even more importantly, he would remember so that he could return! And when he returned, he would exact his revenge for whatever atrocities these animals did to his Elsa.

"Put him in a capsule and I'll fry him," said the new Keazar to the soldiers that had come in through the open door. "We have no more need of him."

"Yes, sir," replied the soldier that had slit Lute's throat. "Have you taken care of the others yet?"

"Yes. That is, all except for the woman. I thought we could have some fun with that one first. I am sure your men will be more than anxious to get our sloppy seconds, ha?" he remarked viciously.

"We think too much alike, you and I," said the soldier with a smirk before asking, "I have a detail of men collecting the bodies from the dining hall and cavern, where would you like them?"

"Get some men to clean the ashes out of those other capsules and we'll put them in those. Make sure they do a thorough job of cleaning them out! There can't be any trace of another being's DNA that could possibly mix and mingle with their bodies during the recycling process."

"Yes, sir."

"And Carg, get some men to take these supplies and add them to our own. By the way, how many soldiers do you have with you?"

Before answering, he ordered several of his soldiers to take care of the supplies and then ordered the rest to retreat out to the main cavern where there would be room enough to house them all. Turning back to the new Keazar with a smile on his face, he said, "We have just more than two hundred here. In addition, I left two hundred and seventy-five more at each of the other two compounds. Your host and his friends will be in for quite a surprise when they get there, if they get there," he added before giving in to a small chuckle.

"Am I to understand that you started the fumigating of the passageways, then?" asked the new Keazar, as he smirked back at Carg to show his pleasure.

"Yes, sir. They will be caught between the gas and an army that will be ready and waiting for them. They cannot escape."

"Good! They are such fools, thinking that their worst enemies were some mortal Lords. They can't even begin to imagine what lays in waiting for them! Now go! Leave me alone to do my work. I have plans that I need to make in preparation for when I am the supreme ruler of this Godforsaken planet. Soon, all will bow down before me!"

"Yes, sir," Carg answered him before turning and retreating out the door. As he headed down the hallway toward the cavern, he considered his situation. This latest Keazar clone worried him. The other Keazar clones that he had left behind at the other labs had thought much of themselves, but none were as ambitious as this one. They claim a clone is an exact duplicate of its host, but Carg wasn't so sure that was really a true statement. After having been in the presence of so many soulless clones of Keazar, it hadn't escaped his attention that each had exhibited slightly different traits. Physically, he could not tell one from another, but mentally, they were as different as the opposite sides of this planet.

Upon entering the cavern, Carg gave orders to several soldiers and then left word that he could be found by the pool if he was needed. His intentions were to take a bath and wash the blood off his body. However, before he ever reached the pool, another of his soulless soldiers stepped up behind him and stuck a knife in his back. With all the force of a psychopathic maniac, the blade penetrated his flesh, rupturing his right lung, and coming to rest, lodged against the forth rib.

Unlike Lute, though, Carg didn't cry out. Even if he had time to think before he died, his thoughts would not have been about coming back to seek revenge. Unlike Lute, Carg didn't have a soul that would carry on and wait for a new host; Carg just ceased to exist.

If there was a flaw in the greater scheme designed to take over the planet of HEÂLF, the killing of Carg for no other reason than the pure joy of killing was just the tip of that flaw.

### **8**

Everyone sat in silence while I wolfed down the food that Loté had prepared for me. I couldn't remember ever having felt so hungry. Between the vomiting and the drizzling bout of dysentery, my stomach had been turned inside out, and left an empty void. When I finished the last of the food she had set before me, I belched so loudly, it felt as though the walls vibrated from the repercussions. Though no one said anything, I could sense the smirks all around me.

However, it was not malicious intent that was at the root of their behavior. Instead, their actions stemmed from the comradery that we all shared. It was an intimate trust in one another that only a group of people that had gone through so much hardship together could even begin to appreciate. We had become closer than a family. Even Brae, who passionately missed her tribe, had decided to remain with us. She was well aware that no one would have blamed her if she had departed for the surface with the servants. We were a team, and as such, we would find a way to overcome any obstacles in our way.

"We cannot simply sit here and continue worrying about encountering more of that intolerable gas up ahead," Keazar suddenly blurted, after a long moment of silent thought. My words earlier, regarding our chances of encountering more of the gas up ahead, had become the focus of his dilemma. "If we should chance upon it farther into our journey, we will just have to find another detour around it. There must still be many old and unsupported tunnels that haven't caved in or become impassible from debris."

"Surely, they have not," I readily agreed, feeling evermore optimistic after eating. "If they were, we would not be in this one now, would we?"

No one answered my question, but I could literally feel the mood lighten a few notches. Although my optimism didn't dissipate entirely, I suddenly felt sleepy, as the food drew the blood from my head and demanded equal time for digestion. Because we were safely ahead of the deadly fumes, I suggested that we should take the opportunity to get some shuteye. Wary offered to take the first watch, and I didn't argue with him. Even before the rest of the order for standing watch had been decided, I was asleep. Vaguely, I remembered thanking my lucky stars that the healing salve Keazar had applied to Loté had worn off. Now that her internal organs had almost finished repairing themselves, her hormone levels had also returned to controllable levels. Shortly after my eyes closed, I was vaguely aware of her snuggling up beside me, and then all was bliss.

We had been asleep for less than four hours when Linit came hurrying down the tunnel, yelling as she approached that she could smell the stench. We were awake immediately, but only managed to flail around in the dark, searching disjointedly for our respective gear. Wary, sensing the need, quickly lit a miniature torch, and then stuffed it into a crack in the wall. It cast just enough light that we could see to retrieve our scattered gear and throw it hurriedly into our packs before forming a single file line with Keazar in the lead.

Retrieving the torch from the crack in the tunnel wall, he set off at a brisk pace. Linit followed directly behind him, with Loté, Brae, Wary, and me bringing up the rear. If I smelled the stench, it would mean we weren't moving fast enough to outrun it. However, because there was almost no air circulation in these unimproved tunnels, I didn't see how that could become a problem. More likely, the problem would stem from the stenches undaunted determination to catch us; it never ceased to advance on our position, it just kept coming. We, on the other hand, could not run indefinitely, we needed to rest.

Being at the rear of a procession, even one as short as ours, was no picnic. The heavy smoke and oily fumes from the torch quickly combined with the carbon dioxide being exhaled by the others in front, and the air rapidly disintegrated into something that was almost impossible to inhale. After several hours of keeping up a pace that had us literally jogging along in a hunched-over position, my head was pounding from oxygen deprivation. I was beginning to believe that my head couldn't possibly hurt any more than it already did, even if it connected with the hard, craggy surface of the tunnel's ceiling. Regrettably, I hadn't the foresight earlier to get any more of those wondrous pills from Keazar. Although my headache was nothing more than my body's way of warning me that it needed more oxygen, understanding that didn't make it any easier to live with.

Sliding my pack around to my side so that I could reach into it, I retrieved a rubber rock from the supply that Loté had prepared back at the lab. It wasn't so much that I was hungry, but rather, I was hoping that the act of chewing and swallowing would take my mind off the pain in my head.

Three hours later, and moving much slower, I was about to suggest to Keazar that we stop and rest, when Wary abruptly stopped. The torch had burned out quite a while earlier, and I had no warning, nor way of avoiding him in the dark, tight confines of the tunnel. My forehead hit him in the small of his back and slid forward over his sweat-covered body, stopping only when the bulk of our torsos were solidly jarred together. With a whoosh, air shot from his lungs, while my teeth were jarred together by the impact. If it had not been for the rubber rock, I would have bitten my tongue off.

"What's going on?" I asked of anyone that could tell me.

If Wary knew, he was unable to answer, as he fought for air to replace what I had just knocked out of him.

"Someone, tell me, what's going on up there?" I demanded from the darkness surrounding me.

"Hold on," Linit whispered, her voice wafting softly out of the dark. "Keazar's lighting a torch."

Before she had finished speaking, a smoky light sputtered to life a little farther up the tunnel. Realizing in the dim light that the ceiling wasn't as low as it had felt in the dark, we all took the opportunity to straighten up and stretch our backs. The tunnel was too narrow, however, for me to slide past the rest without first all of us removing our packs. Deciding against that, I patiently settled in to wait until Keazar decided to tell us why he had stopped so suddenly. If the situation warranted me being up front, then we would have to drop our packs. Otherwise, it would just be a waste of energy; energy that we could ill afford to squander so needlessly.

Within moments, I was remembering what a very impatient person I was. Very rarely in my life, especially since becoming an adult, have I had to wait on anyone or anything. To relieve my urge to be doing something, I apologized to Wary for ramming him in the back with my head.

"Don't worry about it, it's not like you intended to do it," he replied, his breathing already returning to normal.

"Linit," I said, fidgeting from one foot to the other. "Can you tell me anything?"

"Only that Keazar asked me to wait here until he returned," she replied softly, making a point of keeping her voice down.

Judging by the manner in which she spoke, I had a feeling that whatever Keazar was investigating involved the possibility that someone, or something, might hear us. Not liking that idea, I quickly decided that I needed to be up front. Whether this decision was the result of my impatience or not seemed almost trivial.

"Listen up, everybody," I said just loud enough for my voice to reach Linit. "I'm going to need everyone to drop their packs and squeeze against the wall to the right. I'm going to push my pack in front of me and squeeze along the wall on your left. This might be a good time to break out your water and drink, since you'll have your packs off anyway," I added.

Stepping backwards a few feet to give the others more room to spread apart, I slid my pack down my back until it rested on the floor behind me. As the quiet of the tunnel was replaced by the sounds of their movements, I knew they were doing what I had requested of them. This was the only practical way to remove our packs, because the narrow confines of the tunnel did not allow us to sling them off to the side.

Stepping backwards over my pack to get it positioned correctly, I got down on my knees and proceeded to push it along the floor in front of me. Slowly, I worked my way under and around the feet and legs of the others. By the time that I had passed Linit, and could stand upright again, my knees were scraped and bleeding from the roughness of the stone floor.

Linit, standing almost as tall as me, and not much lighter of build, was holding the little torch above her head to avoid looking directly into the light. Even in the flickering, smoky light, I could clearly distinguish the worry lines etched into her face, as they were highlighted by the shadows.

"Where's Keazar?" I asked softly.

"He didn't say why," she answered nervously, obviously concerned for the man she loved. "He just handed me the unlit torch and told me to wait here until he returned. I didn't hear or see anything. I have no idea what aroused his concern."

"Keazar!" I whispered into the dark. "Keazar, answer me!"

When there was no forthcoming reply, I realized that I had to go on ahead and see what had become of him. This was so unlike Keazar to just take off without giving any explanation why. It was especially unlike him not to tell Linit. He was giving me cause to worry and I didn't like it. Whether he expected me to or not, I was going after him.

"Wait here with the rest," I said, drawing my long knife. "And Linit."

"Yes."

"Keep the torch lit and pass on the word to the rest that they should be ready for anything."

"Yes, Rod," she whispered, as I turned and silently slithered into the darkness.

Having gone just far enough to exceed the farther reaches of the shadows cast by the small torch, I ran head on into a solid wall of rock. Unbeknownst to me, the tunnel switched back on itself.

This sudden change of direction in the tunnel might have been enough reason for Keazar to suspect something, since it was very uncommon for man-made tunnels to change direction so abruptly, especially to this degree. With Keazar's many years of experience, such an abrupt change of direction might be an indication of something ahead; something that he would be looking for.

As I slowly continued along it, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was less than six inches of rock standing between the others and me. The more I considered it, the less sense it made; why would someone carve a tunnel that turned back in the same direction that they had just come from? The few switchbacks that we had encountered in the past had occurred when the miners ran into an especially hard section of stone. It was easier to make a simple course adjustment until they were past the obstinate rock, than to continue on through it. Once they were past it, they would readjust their course, and continue in the same direction that they had intended the tunnel to follow in the first place. These switchbacks were rare, and never this sharp.

An even rarer occurrence for a switchback of this degree involved making a course adjustment for an overrun. The adjustment became necessary because the tunnel had proceeded past its intended destination. The farther it proceeded beyond before the error was discovered, dictated how many degrees it angled back on itself. I suspected that might be the situation here.

This must have been the same thought that Keazar had also, when he came upon the solid wall, and discovered the switchback. Considering how much work and effort went into creating these tunnels, it only stood to reason that there was a motive behind this total change in direction. It was the motive that must have caused Keazar to suspect that there was something just around the corner.

"Keazar!" I whispered sharply into the blackness ahead of me.

Only silence came back to me. Wondering if I should retreat and advise the others to join me before proceeding, I suddenly felt a hand reach out of the dark, grabbing me by the shoulder. Instinctively, as I brought up my left hand to grab the offending one by the wrist, I also brought up my right, bringing my long-knife to bear against my assailant.

"Shh," came Keazar's voice, not a second too soon.

"What is it?" I whispered back, feeling a rush of relief that he was all right, and because I had not just killed him.

"Listen," he replied in a hushed tone before adding, "And smell."

Doing both as he instructed, I still couldn't hear or smell anything out of the ordinary. While I continued straining my ears for any sound, I breathed deeply through my nose. Unable to distinguish anything that I could not determine the origin of, I became afraid that what he smelled was the stench. It appeared that my worst fears were coming to pass; we were going to be trapped between two oncoming clouds of the stench with no way to escape.

Frantically, I tried to remember if we had passed any other offshoots since our last encounter with it. But I knew with a sinking feeling that if we had, I would surely have remembered them. A new hope arose within me when I considered that maybe we had passed a vertical shaft. It was possible that no one had noticed it because of the way we were being forced to travel with our heads ducked low. It was still a long shot at best, since Keazar would most assuredly have been looking both up and down with the aid of the little torch. Surely if he had noticed a shaft in the ceiling, he would have mentioned it, even if it had no importance to us at the time.

Just as quickly, I ruled the possibility out. For the last several hours, Keazar had been in the dark along with the rest of us.

"I don't hear a thing," I whispered back after a moment of intense silence. "Is it the stench that you smell?"

What the stench and listening would have to do together, since the stench didn't make any sounds as it moved through the tunnels, made no sense to me. Nevertheless, there was no misunderstanding the anxiety in his voice, and that he had heard something that he couldn't identify.

"Listen!" he sternly whispered back at me.

Straining again to listen into the darkness for any sound, I was about to ask him what it was that I was listening for, when I suddenly heard it! It was ever so faint that I couldn't be sure if it was a true sound, or the natural ringing in my ears. As I began to doubt that I had actually heard something, I heard it again, only clearer than before.

There was no mistaking this time that the sound was coming from farther up the tunnel, and not from inside my head. There was something familiar about the sound, something that sounded almost commonplace to my senses. Although I was unable to recognize it, I felt sure that I should know what the cause of it was. Frustrated with my memory over its inability to place the sound, I suddenly realized that I recognized a familiar fragrance permeating the air. Once I realized what it was that I smelled, the origin of the sound came easily to me, almost like the missing piece of a puzzle falling into place.

Our polluted nostrils were being assaulted by the refreshing smell of open water. It was the invigorating smell that permeates after the air has been cleansed and refreshed by a soft, gentle rain, something that happens all too infrequently on the planet's surface.

After realizing that we smelled the scent of fresh water, it didn't take any stretch of imagination to come to a conclusion concerning the sounds that we were hearing. What had been softly caressing my ears was the sound of water lapping gently against the sides of its constraints.

Recognizing the cause of the sound that we were hearing only further excited our senses. Since there wasn't any tidal action on Heälf, something else was making the water undulate. Whatever it was, it was large enough to create small waves. But what could possibly be living in a subterranean pool of water this far beneath the planet's surface?

"Keazar, what is it?" I whispered softly behind his left ear.

The tunnel was still much too narrow at this point for me to easily get past his tremendous bulk, but already I was sensing a massive expanse in the darkness before us. Keazar, who'd been living for centuries beneath the planet's surface, had to be much more aware of this feeling of openness than even I.

"Let's get back to the others," he whispered as he turned his massive bulk and forced me to retreat back up the tunnel and around the switchback.

The refreshing smell of the water was quickly replaced by the acrid fumes of the small torch that Wary was now holding. We both knew that the smoke would have carried well past the place in the tunnel where Keazar and I had stopped by now. With this knowledge, also came the understanding that we had lost all pretense of surprising whomever or whatever lay ahead. If we still thought there was any chance of that, we were only kidding ourselves.

Wary had taken up the lead position with Linit now standing behind him. He started to say something, as did the others, upon seeing Keazar come around the corner. But he raised a hand, silently signaling for them to remain silent. With Wary holding the smoky torch above his head, we crowded as close together as the tunnel permitted so that we could better hear what the big man had to say.

Keeping his voice low, he started, "There is a large cavern just ahead," he paused while someone let out a muted exclamation. "I doubt that anyone, even Lord Thar with his minions of tunnel borers, would have been capable of excavating a cavern of this size. It would have been an extravagant waste of manpower and time, even if they had originally intended it for their main quarters. There is always the possibility that the excavators struck an underground river and their project was flooded before they could finish it. But I believe that I would have heard of such an effort long before now." He paused to catch his breath. Before anyone could interrupt him with questions, he continued, "I feel much more strongly that the cavern ahead is a natural anomaly. It's probably nothing more than a large gas pocket that developed during the formation of the planet, literally tying itself into the very fabric of the planet. But what is more important now, is that this cavern contains a large amount of water, and I suspect strongly that there is something living in that water."

"You have a highly developed sense for open spaces, much as we have regarding close and confined areas. If you were to take a guess, how large would you say this cavern is?" I asked, keeping my voice to barely more than a whisper, and yet loud enough so the others could hear me as well.

Speaking just loud enough so that all could hear, he replied, "I can only say that, when I stood very near to the opening, I felt as if the space in front of me continued into oblivion. I am sure that it is larger than any other cavern that I have ever entered before."

"Is it possible that there are more entrances leading into it than just this one?" asked Wary softly.

"My guess would be that there are probably dozens of entrances leading into it, and all from different directions," he answered without hesitation. "My good man, in my experience, most naturally occurring caverns have many small tunnels and crevices that fed a mixture of air and volatile gases into them during the planet's creation. These tunnels don't necessarily lead anywhere, unless someone has connected to them with tunnels of their own making. For the most part, it is easy to tell if they have been improved for human travel or not. Nevertheless, before you get your hopes up, I have to stress that there are many more that lead nowhere than there are those that do."

Perplexed by his sudden lack of knowledge concerning the interior of the planet, I asked of him, "How is it that you weren't aware of such a large cavern before now?"

It didn't make any sense that a cavern of this size could be anything but a well-known place, especially since it contained a large body of water. Surely, such a place would have been highly coveted by all, no matter whose domain it was situated in. This esteem for such a place would have led to many battles over its control. If neither Lord Thar nor Lord Balzar were aware of such a cavern, which I found unlikely, then surely, a rebel leader would have moved his tribe into it by now. The tunnel we were currently in showed all the telltale signs of having been hand carved, so it only seemed logical that someone was aware of this cavern at some time in the past. Whoever made this tunnel knew of the cavern's existence, which also explained the switchback.

"Even after three thousand years of life, my good man, there will still be some mysteries abounding in one's own home. There are probably many things about which I know absolutely nothing," he replied, feigning humility, yet not quite succeeding at it.

His act of sounding ignorant didn't fit him, and I easily recognized it for what it was; a feeble attempt to avoid the truth. Looking from face to face, I found it difficult to determine how the others were feeling about his explanation for not knowing about the cavern. They may have believed him. However, his actions left me feeling uneasy. It wasn't that I felt uneasy about the fact that he didn't have all the answers, but uneasy about his explanation for not knowing. Admitting ignorance so blatantly was not his style.

Before I could travel too far down that path of destructive thought, I shook the feeling off. There were issues of more importance to discuss than worrying about Keazar's abrupt personality change. Keazar also never had a steady woman before in all of his prior three thousand plus years of life, and yet, here was Linit, someone he had devoted himself to in a very short span of time. Given time, people can and do change.

"What do you suggest we do now, Rod?" asked Wary, bringing me out of my reverie.

"We proceed forward. I don't think there is any other choice but to confront what lies around the corner. We are surely not going to turn around and go back when we don't even know what it is that beckons our senses just a short distance ahead."

"If I might make a suggestion," said Brae slowly, from out on the fringe of the smoky torchlight. "Why don't we just walk in and announce ourselves to whoever is there?"

Loté added with conviction, "There's no denying, we are at a tremendous disadvantage here, since we don't know the terrain. It would be both fruitless and dangerous to continue sneaking forward in the dark, especially since they must have already smelled our torch. I agree with Brae."

"I agree, too," affirmed Linit. "We should light several large torches and brazenly walk in."

"They're making a lot of sense, Rod," added Wary.

"Who would I be, if I didn't say that I agreed with them, my good man?" chimed in Keazar, almost too enthusiastically.

Everyone was looking at me as if it was expected of me to argue with the idea. Maybe they thought that I had a different plan, or that I would disagree with it simply because it was Brae that originally suggested it. I wasn't sure. But whatever they were thinking, I probably surprised them when I simply agreed.

"I think Brae's idea is a sound one," I said enthusiastically. "I'll lead with a large torch." Facing Wary, I added apologetically, "Sorry, Wary, but I want you to bring up the rear. If we run into serious trouble, it'll be comforting to know we can retreat."

"If you're sure, Rod," he said, clearly disappointed at not being the second one in.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm also sure that I want Keazar behind me with his own torch. We'll be the only two with torches. If there is something in there that proves to be unfriendly, I would rather it not know our true strength," I added for justification of my suggestions.

"Or our weaknesses," added Keazar lightheartedly.

"Right," I agreed solemnly. "Let's get in position. We'll light the torches before we round the corner. Also, we'll secure the packs in case we don't have to come back this way. And keep your weapons at the ready," I added, after a moment's hesitation.

After much shuffling and squeezing past one another, we were finally in the order that I had suggested. If the tunnel had been larger, it would have been my preference to have Wary backing me up. However, because the tunnel was as narrow as it was, I decided that it would be better to position Keazar behind me, and thus prevent everyone having to squeeze past him. It was with much difficulty and some skin abrasions to my shoulders and knees that I finally managed to get past him and into the lead position.

With the torches lit and everyone carrying their weapons at the ready, we continued forward, easily negotiating the switchback. The smell of freshwater was smothered beneath the smoke and fumes of the two large torches, but the immensity of the cavern was overwhelmingly obvious. Even before we had fully exited from the tunnel, we could see that the light from our torches wasn't reflecting back to us from the far side; the cavern was huge by any standard!

We stepped out onto a small outcropping of rock that extended approximately ten feet, and stood in awe at the feeling of openness that assailed our senses. With the aid of the torches, I could see that beyond the edge of the outcropping was a six-inch drop to the surface of the water. It was here that the water softly beat against the forward edge of the ledge, creating the soft lapping sound that we'd heard earlier inside the tunnel.

To the left and right, leading off from the rock ledge, were smoothly worn walkways following the outer edge of the cavern's walls. Each was approximately four feet wide and continued in either direction until disappearing into the darkness. There were ripples flowing inward against the edge of the ledge from something out on the water that was too far away for our torches to cast their light upon; it was impossible to tell if the cause of the ripples was manmade, or something much more ominous.

With mounting trepidation, I led the way out to the edge of the rock shelf and held the torch out over the water, trying to judge its depth. The light was reflected back into my eyes, revealing nothing of what lay below the glistening black surface. Retreating from the edge, I stood up straight and held the torch high above my head, my eyes straining into the darkness in all directions. The ceiling was beyond the reach of the light, as was the far side of the lake. It was impossible to tell if the two walkways, which appeared to be manmade, rejoined at the far end. It didn't make sense that the effort would be expended to construct two identical walkways only to have them come back together in the same place. I was willing to gamble that they led to two different locations, each with their own unique set of exits from this place.

"I'm taking a bath," said Loté as she shed her pack near the mouth of the tunnel, and then reached into it for a block of soap.

"No!" I said too quickly, my voice sounding shrill despite the openness surrounding us. Then, forcibly sounding calmer, I added, "Not until we determine whether it's safe or not."

"And how do you propose to do that without getting into it?" she asked, having found her soap.

"By being the first one in!" I yelled as I turned back to the water and jumped in feet first.

Before my feet even touched the water, I regretted my hasty decision. A million thoughts went through my mind, not the least of which was how stupid I was. To put my hand in the water and check the temperature first had never even occurred to me. Not until my feet struck the water, did I consider the possibility that it would be anything but the same temperature as the air surrounding us. Of all the ponds that I'd used for bathing on the surface, every one of them had been the same temperature as the air surrounding them. This pond was different.

As the shock of the extremely hot water seared through my skin and awakened every nerve ending, my feet struck a slimy smooth bottom of solid rock. With all of my strength, I pushed off against the slippery bottom, and shot back toward the surface. Bursting up through the surface, my arms flailing and slapping the water, struggling to replace the air shocked from my lungs, I realized that I was too late to warn Loté. Through the blur of my burning eyes, I was just in time to see her head disappearing beneath the surface.

"Don't come in," I yelled to the others as they stood looking on, indecision over joining us written clearly on their individual faces. "It's hot!"

Loté broke through the surface just then, letting out a shriek as she did so. "Oh my God!" she cried out. "Help me out! Quick!"

Swimming as fast as we could, the others quickly reached down from the ledge and hauled us out. Aside from our injured pride, we emerged basically unharmed. Our skin had turned a bright, rosy shade of pink from being exposed to the heat, but it was only temporary. Nevertheless, it would be my guess that a human body probably wouldn't survive much beyond five minute's worth of exposure to the heat before succumbing. In theory, it would have the same effect on our internal organs as if slow cooking them in a large vat of water over an open fire.

"That was stupid on both of your parts!" said Wary exasperatedly. "There's no telling what might have been lurking just beneath the surface!"

"Sorry," I said sheepishly, while glancing over and winking at Loté. "It's awful damn hot, but I think it's safe to say there isn't anything lurking just below the surface. If anyone wants to take a quick bath, I'm sure it's safe."

"I'll just wash myself from the ledge," said Linit as she took the proffered soap from Loté.

Despite the large body of hot water, our skin dried almost immediately, leaving only a pink glow behind. Seeing Loté with her long black hair plastered to her head brought back some fond memories; memories of another pool and another time, when we'd first met. It all seemed so long ago.

"Hot water, huh?" Wary dryly commented, as he sat next to Loté and me.

"Yeah," I answered, my thoughts still a million miles away.

"So, which way do we go now?" he asked as Brae came and joined us.

"Let's see what Keazar thinks," I answered, my thoughts begrudgingly returning to the present.

"I don't think we have much choice but to follow the right path, my good man," replied Keazar with a chuckle as he and Linit came and sat with the rest of us.

"Do you mind if I ask why you're suggesting the 'right' path?" I asked seriously of him. "Surely you have more of a reason than just to make a joke."

"I'm sorry if it sounded as though I am making light of our choices. It wasn't my intention to make light of the situation," he replied apologetically. "I understand the seriousness of our circumstances as well as you do, I am sure."

"I'm sorry, too, my good friend. I didn't mean to snap at you," I apologized. "It just makes more sense to me that we should follow the path leading to the left. Since most of us are right-handed, it seems to me that it would be to our advantage to keep the water, as well as anything that it might hold, on our right. That way, we will be more prepared to defend ourselves against an attack from the water."

"You're assuming that if we are threatened by anything, it will be coming from the water?" Wary casually inquired.

"That, or head on," I added. "At any rate, we wouldn't have to worry about the solid rock wall on our left."

"I still think that we should take the path to the right!" Keazar abruptly spouted before we could state that we were definitely going to the left. "The path to the right more closely resembles the direction to our primary destination from where we now sit. To go to the left will mean extra traveling just to work our way back to the right. You yourself have admitted that you have no idea how large this cavern is, we could be adding miles, even days, to our journey," he finished, almost pleading with us.

Now I was confused. Why did the path we take around the water suddenly become so almighty important to him? What was the significance of taking the pathway to the right, versus the path to the left? If Keazar could give us a legitimate reason, something that made sense, I would feel much more at ease. But his excuses were flimsy, at best. He was acting completely out of character.

Unless he was holding back!

For reasons that I couldn't even begin to comprehend, Keazar wasn't telling us everything that he knew about this cavern, and where the pathways led, than he was letting on.

I found this thought truly disturbing, because it meant that I was questioning my faith in him. What aggravated the situation even more was being torn between trusting my instincts, which told me to follow the trail to the left, and trusting in Keazar. I held him in high esteem, and I couldn't just ignore his plea.

"Keazar," I started slowly, "I trust in your judgment wholeheartedly. You have never let us down; as I am sure the rest here will agree. Yet, it is not like you to argue with us this way." I hesitated, forming my next words carefully so as not to upset him. "You are practically pleading with us to take the path to the right, and yet the reasons you give us are not very compelling. Is there something more here that you would care to share with us, something that we don't know about? Or are you keeping something from us, my friend?"

"I take offense at your attitude!" he shouted emphatically, jumping to his feet while fighting back his anger. "No! I have told you everything that I know of this place. How dare you question my loyalty," he added angrily. Spitting and sputtering, his face took on a brighter shade of red than even Loté's or my own. Sounding hurt, he gasped again, "How dare you?"

The full impact of my insinuation was just beginning to register with the others as Keazar picked up his pack and started off to the right, fully intending to force everyone into deciding whom they would follow. The matter was no longer about deciding which path we would take, but instead, had escalated to one of choosing a leader. Would the others follow him, or would they remain with me? It was sad that our dilemma had disintegrated to this. When I questioned his loyalty, I never intended for it to go this far.

The simplest and easiest solution, one that would avoid forcing the others to make such a difficult choice, was for me to give in and follow him. It wasn't too late, and no one would think any the less of me for conceding.

"Keazar!" I shouted, stopping him just before he reached the pathway.

Meanwhile, Linit had hurriedly retrieved her pack from near the tunnel entrance and, after throwing a worried glance toward Loté, was hurrying to catch up to her man. He had stopped in his tracks, but he failed to turn and look back. He stood stoically at the edge of the light being thrown by the torches, waiting for me to continue. I wasn't sure if he intended for me to beg, or if he simply expected me to apologize before agreeing to follow the path of his choice.

To his surprise, I didn't intend to do either. Instead, I was about to suggest that he come back, that we try discussing it further. However, the plea never left my lips. Before I could speak, a new sound infringed upon the edge of my consciousness, demanding my full attention. It wasn't a new sound to our surroundings, or I probably would have sensed it quicker. But rather, it was a familiar sound. A sound that had slowly been growing in intensity until my subconscious could no longer ignore it. The lapping sound was growing louder; whatever was causing the ripples was moving toward us.

In a tone of voice that sounded much too casual for the situation, I said, "Keazar, we'll discuss this later, I promise. But right now, turn around and come back to the ledge. Everyone else, get up slowly and retreat away from the water. Let's regroup at the mouth of the tunnel. Something or someone is coming."

My intent was to warn everyone so they could prepare for the unknown without tipping off the approaching entity to the fact that we knew it was coming. By making the assumption that whatever was coming could understand us, I was probably giving credit where credit wasn't due.

Without a sound, everyone slowly and quietly got to their feet and formed into a semi-circle before the entrance to the tunnel. A retreat into the tunnel was not a promising idea, considering the narrowness of it. If we were attacked by a force of any size at all, there wouldn't be time to get everyone inside. And even then, the last one in would be the only one that could fight back. We might be better off by trying to hold the ledge, and keep our attackers in the water.

Linit didn't hesitate to rejoin us, as she felt sure that Keazar would do the same. It surprised everyone when Keazar slowly turned to face us, a look of indecision clearly visible on his face even in the dim light of the torches. My apprehension was put to rest when he slowly started walking back toward us. In that split second while he hesitated, the tension swiftly grew, taking on a life of its own. Now, as he ambled back to rejoin us, it felt almost as if a balloon had been deflated. Why he was acting so disparately, I couldn't understand. There was something distinctly different about our friend. It was almost as if he were actually someone else that was trying to act like the Keazar we knew.

Suddenly, a loud splash came echoing out of the darkness. It was promptly followed by a series of small waves breaking against the lip of the ledge. Faintly at first, and then growing louder as it drew nearer, we could hear the distinct rhythmic sound of a paddle plunging in and out of the water.

Taking the torch from Wary, I drew my knife and went forward to the water's edge. The rhythmic sound was drawing nearer by the second. Yet, whatever was making it, remained just beyond the reach of the torch's feeble light. Straining hard to see into the blackness, I suddenly became aware of another sound. This, however, was a sound that was easily recognizable as that of heavy breathing. They were short, raspy breaths, much like that made by a panting animal.

### **9**

In the distance, two red orbs suddenly materialized, glowing out of the darkness. Eerily, I felt as if they were focusing on me. I tried rationalizing the feeling by assuming that it was nothing more than my eyes reacting to the strain of trying to see beyond their ability. However, when I blinked to clear them, there was no mistaking that the glowing red orbs had drawn nearer still. With increasing anxiety, I realized that the panting sounds were growing in volume proportionately to the nearing of the orbs.

Wary, having stepped up beside me was looking at the two red balls with the same intensity as I.

"What are they?" he asked nervously.

I was about to tell him that I didn't have the slightest idea, when a strange shaped head broke out of the darkness. The size of the wake that the creature was making suggested that the head was connected to a large, powerful body, swimming fiercely just beneath the surface.

As the creature drew nearer to our light, its horrendous features grew fearsomely more visible. With the whole of its head clearly visible, a course, wiry hair became distinguishable, as it stood on end despite the plastering effects of the hot water. The blood red orbs, previously keeping us mesmerized with fear, quickly diminished in importance, as we took note of the long, wolfish snout hanging open just above the water's surface, revealing double rows of evenly spaced, large yellow teeth.

As it drew nearer, we could also see a long red tongue hanging from the side of its jaws, trailing in the hot water. Set wide apart and far back from its nose, were the two fiery orbs. They were set deeply into the frontal lobe of the creature's head, surrounded by a massive protrusion of bone.

His hand involuntarily clenching the hilt of his long-knife, Wary breathlessly sighed, "My God Rod, have you ever seen such a vicious looking creature in all your life?"

"I don't believe the creature is as vicious as it appears, Wary," I said calmly, sensing that the creature possessed some form of higher intelligence than that of a mindless beast of prey. Surely, it wasn't going to be able to communicate on a level with us, but it possessed enough intelligence to know that we meant it no harm.

However, whether it meant us harm or not, was yet to be discovered. My instincts were telling me that it didn't. "Notice that the glowing light emanating from its eyes is nothing more than a reflection of our own torches," I added, unable to disguise my own relief at this observation.

Despite my confidence that the creature meant us no harm, I remained undecided about whether or not I should give it a chance to get out of the water. From the safety of the ledge, it would be an easy matter of delivering the creature a fatal blow with one swift downward strike.

But senseless killing didn't set very well with me. Until we could determine whether it was safe to allow the creature out of the water or not, I determined that the beast should live. We had many long-knives and capable arms to wield them. If the creature proved to be an innocent, it would get to live.

We were all watching the approaching beast intently, when the source of the paddling sound demanded our attention. Slowly, as if emerging from a thick fog, a large raft began to take shape. Or at least, a craft that was so simple in construction, it could only be described as a large raft.

Upon closer inspection, I could see that it consisted of a bare, flat platform, measuring approximately one hundred feet wide and at least twice that long. I couldn't be sure of the exact length, because the far end disappeared into the darkness. The deck looked to be constructed of a flat piece of thin, rusty red steel. It was so badly pitted and rusted, even from this distance, I could see holes in the deck that were large enough for a man to fall through. It was impossible to see what type of floatation device was supporting the platform, but it appeared to be suspended just mere inches above the water's surface.

In my cursory assessment of the floating platform, I hadn't noticed the ancient looking man leaning against a rusty steel tiller. Standing near the front edge of the platform, the water still dripping from the raised tiller blade, I couldn't understand how I had overlooked him. It was almost as if he had just appeared out of nowhere.

He was wearing a long black robe, which clung loosely to his thin frame, and stopped just short of the rusty steel platform, exposing two rust-stained feet. Protruding from the opposite end of this robe was a long thin face sporting a scraggly attempt at a beard. Atop this head was a tight-fitting skullcap, also of a dark material, which accented a thick mop of white hair cascading down his back. Protruding from the front of his gaunt face was a massive nose that almost dwarfed his sharp, beady eyes. He was grinning from ear to ear, but unlike the creature in the water, he had barely half a dozen teeth left in his thin-lipped mouth.

The creature in the water was almost to the ledge. If I were going to use my advantage, I would have to strike soon. Yet, despite the creature's fierce demeanor, and the arrival of the mysterious man aboard the huge, floating steel deck, something told me that I didn't need to be afraid of it.

"Call your beast off or I will kill it!" I shouted to the man on the floating platform, not sure why I thought the creature might be his.

The man's smile instantly vanished, to be replaced by one of confusion and concern, as he quickly replied to my demand in a shrill, brittle voice, "Please, do not hurt him! He is only anxious to meet new friends. He does not understand your fear of him. His name is Shaque, (editor's note-pronounced Sha-coo). I assure you. He does not intend to do you any harm. He could not wait for this old ferry to reach you, so he took it upon himself to swim on ahead. Please, he cannot help his excitement; it is not often anymore, that we receive guests."

Although I wasn't sure why, I believed the old man. His shrill voice, although grating on the ears, didn't carry any hint of deception. Without taking my eyes from the approaching creature, I asked of him, "And who might you be?"

"I am Lazzon, Chief Ferry Master, at your service. Please, forgive me for my poor manners. It has been such a long time since I have seen another human. You will be needing a lift across the water, allow me to be your honorable guide and servant," he hurriedly added, his excitement overwhelmingly obvious.

While he spoke, the creature approached the lip of the stone outcropping. With a mighty surge from its rear legs, it thrust its front paws up and out of the water. But it lacked enough momentum to carry its entire body clear of the water, and it quickly slid backwards. With long, talon shaped claws scraping harshly against the stone surface, it grasped madly at the smooth rock with its front paws, leaving deep lines embedded in the solid stone. Simultaneously, it kicked furiously with its hind legs, churning the water and creating a white boiling wake to its rear. Each paw possessed six of the largest, talon shaped claws that I had ever seen on any living creature, both above and below the planet's surface. The creature's feet had clearly been designed for killing, not swimming. Even with the benefit of a long-knife, Shaque would be a very formidable opponent.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, while it continued kicking with its hind legs, trying futilely to pull itself from the water, its efforts grew less strained. Its tongue was lolling out the side of its massive jaw, and its eyes no longer sparked with anticipation and anxiety. Despite the creature's immense body and strength, it was losing its battle against the heated water.

Although the creature could easily tear me to shreds with its powerful front paws, I couldn't just stand by and watch. Each time it was almost out, the tremendous bulk of its body would drag it back in, its sharp claws being no match for the slick surface of the stone ledge. Soon, it would be too weak to continue, and too heavy for us to pull it out of the water without its own efforts.

Sheathing my knife, I reached over the ledge and grabbed a hand full of the course hair protruding out from behind its head. Entwining the hair through my fingers to secure a firm grip, I was immediately surprised at how much softer the hair felt than it appeared. Timing my pull with the creature's lunge, it came scrambling up out of the water.

Standing for a moment while catching its breath, it looked from one to the other of us, unsure of what to do next. Suddenly, surprising all of us, it gave a vigorous shake. A heavy spray of warm water splashed over everyone, soaking us instantly and causing the torches to momentarily sputter and smoke. The old man on the floating platform, having watched the episode unfold before him, broke out laughing in a high-pitched squeal. We were all so wound up and tense with anxiety, the creature caught us all by surprise. The old man's laugh proved infectious. Before we were even aware that we were doing it, we were laughing heartily along with him. We were still laughing when the rusty steel platform banged up gently against the lip of the ledge.

Even in the dim light cast by the smoky torches, we could see that the platform was empty, devoid of anything or anyone but the old man. Displaying his toothless grin, he looked from one to the next of us, lingering slightly longer as his gaze passed over each of the women. It wasn't the first uneasy feeling that I had since entering this cavern, but at least I knew it for what it was, jealousy. I had to remind myself that he was just an old man that probably hadn't seen, or had the company of, a woman, for a very long time. If I put myself in his place, I probably would have been less diplomatic. It was only natural that he would extract an eyeful of their beauty; they were, after all, breathtakingly beautiful women.

When the laughing began to subside, the old man reintroduced himself. I quickly recognized his effort as the poorly veiled attempt that it was to draw us into conversation. Whether he had any ulterior motives for doing so, I couldn't be sure, but highly doubted. After floating back and forth in this pitch-black cavern for years with no one to keep you company but a creature of questionable intelligence, I could only imagine how lonely he must be. The poor old man was probably dying for any news or knowledge that we might possess.

It wasn't all that disconcerting that the old man was wearing clothing, for there were still people here and there that did. Rather, it was the type of clothing that he was wearing. Instead of the usual loincloth, or knee length leggings that were more common, he was completely covered from head to ankle. Even his face was indistinguishable behind the scraggly growth of beard. The parts of his body not covered by the strange robe, namely his hands and feet, were stained the same ruddy hue as the steel platform.

"I am Captain Rodick of the Heälf Air Service, at your service," I said proudly, watching him closely for a reaction. When none was noticeable, I introduced the rest of our group. Beginning with Keazar, I made a point of including titles, where applicable. Because his eyes kept glancing furtively at the women, I saved their introductions for last.

While making these latter introductions, I continued to keep a wary eye on Shaque, noticing the extreme interest that he was taking in our sexual organs, especially those of the women. As Loté, Brae, and Linit took turns petting him, he in turn took liberties, vigorously licking their private areas. Because I had never seen a domesticated creature that was so overtly interested in human sex organs before, I was sure that no one else in our group had either.

As the old man looked on with a keen interest in his pet's provocative behavior, Wary, Keazar, and I stood by in silence, not sure exactly how to quantify our feelings toward it. Nor did we know how to make our feelings of unease known to the old man called Lazzon. None of us wanted to over-react, if we were just feeling the first pangs of jealousy.

Shortly, the women became discontent with just being able to pet the creature. Instead, they had begun coaxing it away from each other so that it could spend more time attending to them on an individual basis. Already feeling extremely uneasy, it was with increasing dismay when we noticed that the creature's organ had swollen. Though it was shaped similar to a man's, it was considerably larger than any that I had ever seen, including my own. Although the creature's only resemblance to anything human was based solely on the resemblance of its sex organ, this fact seemed to be lost on the women. Noticing the size of its swollen tool, they too grew proportionately more excited.

Suddenly, with unexpected swiftness, the creature drew up on its hind legs and knocked Brae off balance, sending her sprawling to the hard stone surface of the ledge. Instinctively, she rolled away from her assailant, easily deflecting the impact of the stone floor. With inborn grace, she came to a stop, her legs bent like two coil springs beneath her. However, before she could draw her feet up and right herself, the creature lunged after her, pinning her slender waist between its powerful front legs. With an uncanny familiarity, it drove its inhuman erection at her exposed womanhood, effectively mounting her from behind!

Wary was the first to react, drawing his knife as he leaped toward the creature's back. There was no mistaking his intent to thrust his long-knife into the deviant creature's exposed backside before it could seriously harm the woman that he loved.

But before he could reach the beast, the old man suddenly let out a shrill, ear splitting whistle, warning the creature of impending danger. Spinning off Brae's back in a blur of motion, it turned to face Wary, snarling and baring its teeth, ready to tear him from limb to limb.

With the creature poised to attack and glaring viciously down at him, Wary froze in his tracks, suddenly not so sure if he was ready to meet the creature's unspoken challenge. Brae was safe and out of danger for the moment.

In the interim of a standoff between Wary and the beast, Brae slowly slumped forward at their feet, moaning not with pain, but because of the loss and disappointment at the creature's untimely withdrawal. Completely unaware of what had just transpired, she did not realize the tenseness of the current situation that was unfolding around her.

"Shaque," Lazzon said softly, giving an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, the creature slunk past Wary, never taking its eyes from him. Wary, also not breaking eye contact with the creature leaned over and offered Brae his left hand. Still oblivious of what was transpiring around her, she took his proffered hand and rose to her feet, her look of disappointment being replaced by one of slow understanding.

Not until the creature reached the edge of the ledge did it take its eyes off Wary. Turning to face the old man, it jumped effortlessly onto the steel platform. Moving slowly and deliberately, it went to stand behind and to the right of the old man, adopting an attitude of total obedience and servility, without giving up any of its former pride.

The old man, meeting Wary's gaze, said, "On behalf of Shaque, I apologize. I deeply regret that his actions have offended you. Surely, he has caused her no harm," he stopped for a moment as he indicated Brae, noting the lingering confusion on her face. "For as long as he has been with me, which is a considerable number of years, I have never seen another creature like him. Hence, I have been unable to find him a suitable mate." He paused for a moment, a brief smile playing across his mouth as he laughed inwardly before continuing. "I guess I have had the same luck in my own search for a mate. However, unlike Shaque, I am much more capable of controlling my unbidden urges, in spite of the beautiful women that now grace my visage. I beg of you, if you can find it within yourselves, please forgive him, he meant no harm."

"I'll kill it, if it comes near her again!" Wary spat through clenched teeth while Brae looked on, her disappointment clearly expressed in Wary's warning.

"It didn't hurt me, Wary," she said weakly, the realization of what had transgressed beginning to sink in. "I might even have unknowingly encouraged it. You mustn't blame the poor creature, Wary. I'm sure that it had no idea that it was doing wrong."

"I'll still kill it if it gets near you again!" he replied with waning conviction. Until Brae had stood up in defense of the creature's actions, it had not occurred to him that Brae might have enjoyed her contact with the beast.

"I assure you," added the old man in his shrill, raspy voice, "Shaque will not bother anyone again. That is, unless they do something to encourage him. If that should happen, I am sorry, but I cannot be held responsible for his actions under such circumstances."

"We will take responsibility for our own actions!" I said sternly, looking from one to the other of our small group. When my eyes fell on Brae, and I could still see the look of yearning in her eyes, I added the following, "Whatever those actions might turn out to be."

The old man's grin slowly returned, as he grasped the meaning of what I was implying. If the women wanted his creature to service them on a sexual basis, it would be at their discretion, and no one would kill it because of it.

"We were just in the middle of a discussion when you arrived," I said to the old man, wanting to change the subject, and put the creature's actions behind us. "We were trying to decide the better route across the cavern. Maybe you could make a recommendation, since you seem familiar with this place."

"You don't want to take either of those routes," he quickly responded, his voice sounding serious as he nodded first to his left, and then his right. "For a very small fee, I will be more than glad to carry you across the water."

"First, if you would be so kind, my good man," began Keazar, "Maybe you would be willing to tell us why it is that we don't want to use either of these perfectly suitable pathways?"

"There is much danger along those routes. Please, allow me to carry you across on my humble craft. In the middle of the water, the evil creatures will be unable to reach you. Because they cannot swim very far without doing great harm to themselves, they wait along the pathways for unsuspecting visitors such as you." He paused for a moment to catch his breath before emphatically adding, "It will ride heavy on my conscience if you don't heed my warnings and partake of my generosity."

"How far across would the water be?" I asked of him.

"It is a journey that takes exactly five Earth-days. But I assure you, they will be easy days, days where you can rest up before continuing on your journey."

"And should we decline your services, how long will it take us to reach the other side via the pathways?" asked Wary, an obvious bitterness in his voice as he held Brae protectively against his side.

"If you are lucky enough to avoid the evil that awaits you, which is very unlikely, it will take at least twice as long," he answered casually. And then, adding in a more conspiratorial tone of voice, "But you will not live to reach the other side if you take the pathways. No one ever has."

There was something almost sinister in his last remark; it was as if he knew something definite about our plight and the forces that were trying to stop us. Yet, surely, I must be mistaken. He was a lonely old soul with nothing better to do than listen to and relay old superstitions and rumors.

Pushing the thought aside as nothing more than a paranoid case of nerves, I asked of him instead, "What is this insignificant fee that you would require of us?"

"Ah, you see the worth of my services after all," he replied, sounding relieved. "Shaque and I do not need earthly possessions. Everything that we could ever possibly want, we have right here. Of course, that only extends to items of sustenance, and not mates to share our time. But such notable travelers as yourselves will put little or no value in what I am about to ask of you. However, to a lonely old man like me, well, I can't begin to tell you what it will mean to me."

At first, I did not feel the need of his services. In fact, I was almost ready to follow the path of Keazar's choosing if it meant being out of this old man's company that much sooner. Now, however, I was torn between putting distance between him and his horny pet, and the five days that could be cut from the length of our journey by accepting his generosity. And this latter didn't even take into account that the five days riding on his steel raft would be spent in relative safety and comfort, if we chose to believe him; he was, after all, a most unlikely benefactor.

"And what exactly is it that you would require from us?" I asked, suddenly afraid that we could not afford his price now that I had decided to use him.

"I would take nothing more than a simple story from you," he replied in his scratchy voice.

"A story!" replied Keazar incredulously. "Surely you will want more from us than a simple story? I can see from here that you do not have any supplies aboard your craft."

"I have no need for supplies," he replied. "I take only what I need for Shaque and myself from the water beneath my feet, no more and no less. But a story now, that is something that the water cannot supply me! So you see how a story is something of great value to me, especially if I have never heard it before. Now don't you agree that my fare is of no consequence to you?"

"How is it that the water supplies your other needs?" I asked suspiciously. "I see no nets for ensnaring prey, nor weapons to wield."

"Nothing quite so vulgar, I assure you. But first, do you agree to the terms of your passage?"

His terms were much too fair, almost suspect. But I had already decided that we would take our chances on his steel raft rather than the alternative. We would just have to continue watching our backs, and not let our guard down.

"I think your terms are more than fair, Mr. Lazzon. Permission to come aboard?" I said smartly, the same way that I had learned to do it many years prior in pilot training drill.

"Permission granted, but don't call me 'Mr.', Lazzon will do just fine," he replied with a welcoming smile.

Nodding in agreement, I turned to retrieve my pack, as were the others, when Keazar suddenly shouted out, "I object! We haven't even taken a vote! This discussion is not yet over!"

He was the only one not moving to pick up his pack as he stood firmly in defiance of boarding the iron platform. I had nearly forgotten his opposition concerning the path that we were to take, and had mistakenly assumed that everyone would trust in my choice to ride the iron ferry. Keazar, of all people, would normally have been the first to agree to a ride when the alternative meant walking. Now he stood facing us, including Linit, as we prepared to climb board.

"Why don't you agree with taking this man's offer?" I asked gently of him, unsure of what was going on within his mind.

"We don't know this man, he is a complete stranger! Already his pet creature has accosted one of our women, and yet, you are ready to jump aboard his vessel on nothing more than his word that no further harm will be forthcoming!" Exasperated, he paused to catch his breath before continuing, "And look at what you are boarding! That rusted-out piece of shit could sink out there, leaving us to suffer a horrible death in the middle of nowhere while our flesh is literally cooked from our bones!" He hesitated for effect, his voice growing more hysterical with each word he spat. "How do you know that he won't turn his creature on us when we are asleep? Just look at it! It could easily tear out our throats and kill us before we could even yell a warning! No!" He stated defiantly, his voice burning with conviction. "I will not get aboard that death trap! I will take the path to the right and to hell with you all!"

"I am sorry you will not be joining us," said Lazzon sincerely. "I was looking forward with glee to hear your fare. Just to look at you, I would have believed that you were capable of providing the best story."

"He'll be joining us," I said seriously, looking imploringly into Keazar's eyes. "Won't you, Keazar?"

Winking out of the corner of my eye so that the old man would not notice, I could see the indecision creeping into Keazar's face. I couldn't figure out why he was so adamant about following the path to the right. His defiance and vehement attitude was completely out of character for him. However, I was just as adamant that we would all ride the ferry. If I had to use my friendship with Keazar to trick him into boarding it, well, then so be it! Once the old man got the ferry out in the water with Keazar on board, there would be no going back.

I wasn't sure if he changed his mind because of my silent pleading with him, or if he had simply decided that the alternative was a long, lonely walk void of companionship. Whichever the reason, he slowly turned and, with an audible sigh of resignation, picked up his pack and joined the others as they jumped aboard. With a silent sigh of relief, I gave the ferry a hard push-off from the ledge with my trailing foot. Now that he had decided to remain with us, I didn't want to linger any longer than necessary. Until we were well out on the water, there was always the possibility that he might change his mind.

As my feet came to rest upon the rust-covered deck, my first impression was the solidity of the platform. There was no perceptible up or down movement as it slowly glided away from the stone outcropping. And then, to my bewilderment and alarm, it quietly reversed direction, and slowly nudged back against the ledge from which it had just left.

For the briefest of moments, I suspected a trap, and my hand went to the hilt of my long-knife. But even before I could warn the others, the raft reversed direction again, and started moving away from the ledge; a force much more powerful than a single man was capable of, was controlling its movements. When I turned questioningly toward Lazzon, he simply smiled back in answer.

"We have much to talk about," I said.

"Yes," he softly answered in reply. "Yes, indeed." And then, raising his voice, he said, "Welcome aboard Captain Rodick."

### **10**

Still holding the torch, I raised it above my head as I turned and looked longingly back at the ledge from which we'd just mysteriously debarked for a second time, in almost as many minutes. Despite the fact that we were now committed to this route, I couldn't help but wonder if it was indeed the wiser one. Without having to give it much serious consideration, I realized that my doubts were stemming mainly from the fact that Keazar had questioned my decision, and thus, my authority. I could question Lazzon later, and learn what made the ferry move so quietly and mysteriously. But I was afraid that where Keazar was concerned, it wouldn't be so easy. If it weren't for his ire, I wouldn't be having these doubts. His change in character was so abrupt that it had me wondering if he knew something that he wasn't sharing with the rest of us. And if that is the case, why does he feel the way he does. Why can't he share it with us? Is the knowledge so terrible that he's afraid of what it will do to us?

Lazzon was holding his hand out to be shaken.

"Thank you, Lazzon," I replied, taking his frail looking hand in my own and shaking it gently.

Surprised by his iron-like grip, I got an uneasy feeling that there was a lot more strength lying just beneath the black robe.

Turning my shoulder so that the others, which were already beginning to spread out on the platform, could not overhear me, I said softly to him, "Please, keep Shaque in check. If we're going to be on this ferry of yours for almost a week, Earth time, we don't need any additional tension, if you get my meaning."

He only grinned back and winked, signifying without words that he understood completely. Nervously, I smiled back in return. His wink had caught me off guard, and I found it most unsettling, almost as if it held some deeper meaning. Had he noticed the wink that I'd thrown Keazar earlier, per chance?

Turning to join the others, I told myself that I was just reading more into it than was intended. The mysterious way the ferry had automatically changed course and momentarily returned to the ledge, had disconcerted me. At the first opportunity to question Lazzon, I would have to ask him about it.

The others were already spreading out and wondering off in different directions. At first, I didn't think much of it, since I knew they could only go so far. Then my heart started racing, as I noticed for the first time that Loté was nowhere in sight. Her pack was lying where she had left it just a short distance from the others. Suddenly, it dawned on me that my Loté wasn't the only one missing from the group. Shaque, who had eagerly followed them toward the middle of the ferry, was also nowhere to be seen. Fiercely, I spun back to face the old man, about to demand that he call his pet. But my mouth fell open, speechless, when I saw that Shaque was sitting innocently beside him.

"Was there something else?" Lazzon casually inquired, the grin still plastered across his face.

"No, nothing," I stuttered, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. Finally, in a feeble attempt to hide my embarrassment, I asked, "Would you care to join us for a meal later?"

"I have no need of your food, Captain Rodick. But it will be my pleasure to join you and your group so that we may begin the story telling."

"Please, just call me Rod."

"Okay, Rod. I will see you later, then."

With that, he picked up his rusty paddle and proceeded on past me, heading toward the far end of the platform with Shaque following close behind. I was about to ask that if he saw Loté, to tell her that I was looking for her. The words were almost formed in my mouth, but when I turned toward his receding back, I saw her kneeling by her pack. She was hastily rummaging through it, obviously frustrated that she was unable to find what she so urgently desired. In silence, I waited for a moment until Lazzon and Shaque had disappeared into the dark, noting the direction of their departure in my mind. Only then, did I slowly walk over to stand by her.

"Damn it!" she said hotly, both frustrated by her efforts and unaware of my presence.

"What are you looking for?"

"Oh!" she gasped. "You startled me. Nothing, really, I'm not looking for nothing," she sputtered, frantically trying to put her pack back together.

Though I suspected she was avoiding the truth, I didn't want to put her on the spot and force a lie from her. Instead, I casually asked of her, "Where were you a minute ago? I saw your pack here, but you weren't anywhere in sight?"

"A walk! I just went for a short walk, is all. I was curious and wanted to see the rest of the ferry," she answered nervously, consciously avoiding eye contact.

"Well, please be careful if you decide to walk around in the future. I couldn't help but notice that the decking is rusted through in places and it's probably too weak to support a person's weight in others."

"I'll be careful," she said, relief flooding into her voice as she looked up at me for the first time and attempted a weak smile.

She was obviously hiding something from me. And though I had my suspicions regarding what it might be, I wasn't ready to admit them, even to myself. However, I had a fair idea just the same. It couldn't have been simple coincidence that Shaque and Loté were both out of my sight at the same time, and probably everyone else's, too. Furthermore, a sharp feeling in my gut told me that Lazzon was also aware of this little piece of knowledge.

Knowing there wasn't anything to be gained by pushing the issue with her, I decided instead to keep my thoughts to myself. Even if I forced her to admit that she had found the creature desirable, in a perverted sort of way, it would only make her angry with me if I openly displayed a lack of trust in her. If I didn't push the issue, but let it slide instead, eventually her guilt would get the better of her, and she would confess everything to me. Meanwhile, because of the guilt bottled up inside of her, she'll be bending over backwards to kiss my ass as a futile attempt to do penance. No, I wasn't going to push it. I had to admit, though, I was a bit concerned that she may have enjoyed it a little too much. And just because I decided to let her tell me about it in her own good time, didn't mean that I was sure exactly how I would react in the future, if I learned that she had been with the creature for a second time.

It wasn't bothering me that the creature licked and sniffed our private parts with its long tongue and snout, since I found the effect it had on my body almost enjoyable. However, that tidbit didn't make it any easier to reconcile the fact that it had used its humongous organ on my woman!

"I think I'll take a quick walk around the deck myself. Maybe with the torch I'll be able to see something of this cavern," I said over my shoulder, as I strolled slowly away toward the starboard side of the ferry.

Just when I thought that I was dealing with the situation fairly well, my mind started conjuring up visions of Loté being mounted by Shaque. Visions of his large member entering her while she moaned and arched her back to oblige him suddenly flooded through my thoughts, blanking out everything else. The more I analyzed the feelings and explored the visions, the more my blood began to boil, and not because I was feeling angry, but because I was starting to feel aroused. Before I even reached the edge of the rusty old deck, I found myself turning around and racing back to Loté.

Finding her exactly where I had left her, I noticed she was again digging frantically through her pack. As much as I wanted to stop and ask her what she was searching for, I knew that I couldn't waste the time. My manhood was at full mast and about to explode. Dropping the torch to the deck, I roughly placed a hand on either side of her waist, and dropped to my knees.

Realizing what I was doing, she quickly moved accordingly to oblige me. Within seconds of feeling her moist warmth surround me, I climaxed. Moaning softly with pain, she slowly pulled away from me. For the first time, I noticed the damage that had been done to her newly healed area.

"I'm sorry, Loté. I didn't realize the pain that I was putting you through," I sheepishly apologized, as it finally dawned on me why she had been rummaging through her pack. "I'll see if Keazar has any more healing salve."

"I'm so sorry, Rod," she whimpered. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's all right. It's not like you were running off with another man," I said half-jokingly, while simultaneously fighting back the jealousy and rage that was swelling within me. "I'll be right back."

Seeing Keazar sitting off by himself, his head resting in the palms of his hands, I decided that rather than interrupt his thoughts, I would search out Linit instead. She probably had some of Keazar's salve in her pack. If not, she would know where to find some. Carrying the torch high over my head, I started in the direction that would take me to where I remembered her and Keazar dropping their packs. As I approached the area, I could feel an uneasy apprehension building within me.

Even before the light had fully illuminated the spot, I knew that I wasn't going to find Linit. Nevertheless, I did find her and Keazar's packs exactly where they had dropped them. After helping myself to the salve, I looked nervously around the area. Although we were all good friends, I didn't think it was very feasible that Linit would have gone off to be with Wary and Brae. After Brae's experience with Shaque, she and Wary were staying very close to each other, too close for Linit's company.

Turning back toward Loté, I continued looking for a sign of Linit. A premonition kept gnawing at the back of my mind, and though I kept telling myself that it wasn't any of my business, and that Linit could do whatever she damn well pleased, I still couldn't shake the feeling that Shaque was somehow involved. If I could find Shaque, I would find Linit too. But did I really want to find them, or was I just over-reacting because of my pent up anger toward the beast?

Finally, deciding that it wasn't any of my business, I hurried back to Loté. Feeling a sudden need to verbalize my thoughts, I blurted, "I think Linit is at the far end of the ferry with Shaque." Then, before she could respond, I added, "And Keazar is sitting over there in the dark sulking."

"Then where did you find the salve?" she asked as I handed it to her.

"In Linit's pack," I replied, slightly ashamed at the thought of having rummaged through someone else's private property.

"I think you better return it to her when I'm done here. It sounds as if she might need it back," she added with a nervous chuckle.

"What is it about that creature anyway?" I sternly demanded, not humored by her remark.

"I don't know, Rod. It's hard to explain. At first, I remember thinking that it was cute, the way it was licking me. When it continued for a few moments, I became extremely excited. It was as if a trance had come over me. I felt as though I were slipping into oblivion. It felt so good that, even though I wanted to, I couldn't stop. I don't know how else to describe it. And even though I knew that we could be seen," she continued, "I didn't feel the least bit inhibited by what we were doing. It was more like the feeling of being on a ride and everyone else is just waiting their turn."

After a moment's hesitation, she went on, "It felt as if I were starving from a tremendous hunger, and only Shaque could satisfy it. When he was done with me and the ordeal was over, even though it hadn't lasted much more than a minute, I felt dirty and ashamed. I wanted to jump into the water and scrub myself until I was raw. But I knew the filth on me couldn't be removed that easily. I'm so sorry, Rod. Please forgive me."

"You have done nothing that needs forgiving, my love," I said consolingly. "You don't think Linit will be so distraught that she will actually jump into the water when Shaque is finished with her?" I asked, suddenly concerned for Linit's welfare.

"I don't know. Maybe I should go and find her. I'll give her the salve back personally. If she doesn't need it, so much the better," she said as she got to her feet and retrieved the torch from where it was slowly burning out on the rusty iron deck.

"Be careful, my love," I replied, also rising to my own feet. "I think I'll go have a talk with Keazar. Maybe I can find out why he's been acting so strange lately."

"Good luck," she said sarcastically over her shoulder, already heading toward the far end of the ferry with the torch held high over her head.

Left in the dark, I tried to get my bearings so that I wouldn't step through any of the many holes that pockmarked the deck. Using the light from the torch to get my bearings, it only took a moment to determine which direction I needed to take. Now, if he hasn't moved since I last saw him, I only had to be careful not to trip over him.

Working my way cautiously through the dark, I started thinking of how short the time was that we had known Lazzon and his pet. And yet, in that short amount of time, his creature might have had every one of our women. Warning bells should have been going off in my head at these thoughts, but instead, I was preoccupied with a good friend who needed my help; a good friend that probably wouldn't agree with me, concerning his need for my help. But that would only be because he hadn't been acting like himself as of late.

Keeping a sharp eye on the torch, I realized immediately when it stopped moving. By straining my eyes against the darker background, I was just able to see Loté sitting next to Linit in the dim shadows beneath it. It looked like she had found Linit very near to the middle of the platform. With the exception of that one bright spot in the distance, there wasn't anything to see but blackness. Just as I was nearing Keazar, my heart suddenly skipped a beat, when the torch Loté had been carrying was abruptly extinguished. My first thought that something was wrong was quickly replaced by the conviction that, having found Linit, she had no more need for the light. In addition, if my suspicions were true, and Shaque had prevailed upon Linit, they might desire the privacy for their business.

From having been thrown into the dark so suddenly, I felt a passing moment of vertigo. Since I wasn't weak from loss of blood, or a lack of food and water, I quickly attributed the unsteadiness to the fact that we were moving along on the deck of a ferry. Once I got used to the motion, I would probably be fine. Steadying myself by crouching down to the deck, I waited for the feeling to pass. While I waited, I began to wonder how the old man managed to navigate his ferry through such absolute blackness. The more I thought it about it, the more I also began to wonder what means of propulsion pushed this rusty old platform along its route.

Like almost everyone else on Heälf, my knowledge of watercraft was strictly limited. In fact, the only knowledge that I possessed that was even relatively close to that of a watercraft, was what I had been taught about flying machines during my pilot training. Nevertheless, I wasn't so ignorant to believe that the old man was capable of propelling it with just a rusty old paddle. Whatever means of propulsion the ferry possessed, it was enough to move it back to the stone ledge against the force of my leg. In fact, for him to be able to steer it with that paddle, was almost as hard to believe.

"Keazar," I called out softly. "Are you there?"

"Yes, my friend, I am here," came a soft, tired response, from out of the dark.

Following the sound of his voice, I was soon sitting next to him on the rust-covered surface of the platform. The surface felt as rough as sandpaper against the bottom of my ass, yet it was warm and soothing. By the time we debarked from this floating heap of rusty scrap-iron, we would all be covered in a thick coat of reddish brown dust.

"I would like to apologize, my good friend," I started softly. "You didn't agree with me about riding this ferry, much as I didn't agree with your choice of pathways. But it's done. We're here on the ferry now, and there's no turning back. It's time to put it behind us and remember why we are here in the first place."

"That is easy for you to say," he replied somewhat bitterly, yet sounding defeated. "You're the one that got your way, after all."

"I didn't disagree with you just to get my way!" I retorted sharply. "I disagreed with you because I felt confident that I was right."

"We have yet to see who is right," he said forcibly. Then, his voice betraying his resignation, he added, "I have no wish to argue with you, my friend. Let it suffice to say that I will help the cause in any way that I can, and let it go at that! We have a long way to go yet."

"Yes, we do, and that is why I will feel much better just knowing that we are still on the same side. By the way, Linit is with Loté out near the center, so you don't need to worry for her sake," I added.

"I am worried for all of our sakes," he said solemnly. "There was no mistaking the look in her eyes when she wandered off earlier. She couldn't wait to go looking for that creature of Lazzon's. Of course, she didn't say that was what she was doing, but it was so obvious. It worries me, Rod, that such an ugly, bristle-haired, fang-toothed creature can possess such a hold over our women. It makes me wonder what Lazzon is capable of."

"I've had the same thought," I agreed. "I don't mean to change the subject, Keazar, but have you given any thought to what form of propulsion is moving this rig? Or have you wondered how Lazzon manages to navigate it through this darkness when there aren't any lights from which to get his bearings?"

"Maybe, my good friend, it is time we went and had that little talk with Lazzon," he answered on a higher note, sounding more like his old self. "Maybe we should gather everyone together and give this Lazzon fellow his fare?"

"I couldn't agree with you more, my friend. I'll find a torch," I offered, getting to my feet. "Wait here for me and we'll go find the others together." As I turned to retreat back to where I had left my pack, I stopped for a moment and, turning back to him, added, "Thank you, Keazar, for accepting my apology. It's just a feeling that I have, but I think it will do the other's spirits good to see the two of us on agreeable terms again."

"It's nothing," he said huskily. "Now, go find a torch."

By recounting my steps, it took less than a minute to find my way back to my pack. Within another minute, I had procured a large torch, lit it, and rejoined my old friend. With him at my side, we began a grid search of the platform, measuring the grids off by the number of steps we would take in each direction. We worked these grids in much the same fashion that Lipton and I had used when we were flying rescue missions for the Heälf Air Service, only on foot instead of from the air.

As we came across the other members of our group, we advised them that we were gathering for a meal near the bow of the platform. We also told them of our intentions to find Lazzon and pay our debt for his services while we ate. Since we would probably continue to use the bow of the ferry for our main camp, they should meet us there as soon as they could gather their gear together and bring it along.

We came to Wary and Brae first, since they had remained the nearest to where we had boarded the ferry and that was where we had begun our sweeping search.

"When you get there, Wary, go ahead and get a large fire started so that the others will be able to find you easier. We'll also use it for our cooking purposes," I said casually, watching their faces relax at the sight of Keazar and me together and acting friendly toward each other. "Feel free to use all the torch fuel you need, since I don't think you'll find anything on this platform that will burn," I quickly added when he seemed hesitant.

"I'm sure you're right," he quickly agreed. "I haven't seen anything except lots of ruddy rust-dust," he said with rising spirits while tipping a large torch to mine and stealing a light. Leading Brae off toward the bow, he paused suddenly and turned back to face us. Smiling, he said, "It's good to see that we're a united force again."

Keazar and I stood in silence for a moment, watching Brae and Wary cautiously working their way forward. It was dangerous going, even with the aid of a torch. By the time a rust hole came into the realm of the torchlight, one could already be treading on dangerously thin steel. Despite the prudence they were forced to exercise, I could still distinguish a lift in their footsteps that hadn't been there earlier.

My thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a splashing noise in the water to our left. Startled, we turned as if one, facing in the direction of the noise. Holding the torch high above my head, we attempted to see farther out over the black, murky water. Except for a small ring of ripples fanning outward from a point beyond our range of vision in the darkness, there wasn't anything to see. But even though we couldn't see into the murky darkness surrounding us, I felt that we were being watched, and the small hairs on the back of my neck began to stand up on end. Was it possible that we were being watched by something living just beneath the black, glistening surface?

"What do you think that was?" asked Keazar softly.

"I don't know, but I think it's time that we asked our friendly skipper a few questions," I replied a bit nervously. "Let's hurry up and find the others."

We made our way along the opposite side of the platform from the one that Brae and Wary had taken. It seemed like a pretty good assumption that they would have told anyone they met on their way to the bow to join them. We were barely halfway to the bow when we could already distinguish the others gathering in the light of Wary's torch.

"Do you see Lazzon over there with the others?" I asked of Keazar.

"No, my good man, I'm afraid that I do not. I also do not see that hideous creature of his," he emphatically added.

"You can see the leading edge of the deck from here. So tell me, Keazar, where could he have gone that we would have missed him in our search?" I asked a bit perplexed.

"I'm not sure, my good friend, but something tells me that he will show up soon enough. Maybe you could ask him about his whereabouts then," he replied, a hint of anger still lingering in his voice. And then, with no warning, and completely out of character for him, he spat. It was as if talking about Lazzon and Shaque had left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

His gesture suddenly reminded me of all the other little anomalies in his personality of late. As a friend, I was concerned. But as much as I wanted to ask him about his behavior, I was afraid that any questions that I might pose to him would only be met with a harsh rebuff. Instead, I just suggested that we join the others, figuring that if no one had seen or knew where Lazzon was, it wouldn't take much effort to find him. After all, we were stranded on this barren chunk of rusty steel by an impassable amount of very hot water; he couldn't have gone far.

As we made our way across the deck to rejoin the others, a recurring thought came to mind concerning the water; why wasn't it steaming? More than likely, the water was being heated by underground vents, or steam geysers. These geysers, in turn, are heating the water in this cavern to a temperature of at least one hundred degrees Celsius. Water at this temperature should be emitting at least a small amount of steam. Though the air didn't show the moisture it held, this little fact belied the evidence that water was in the air, because the ferry was slowly, but surely, rusting away. This was just another of the many questions that I intended to put to our ferry master when he showed up next.

Even from a distance, we could see the change that had come over our friends. The gaiety in their voices and the dance in their steps were encouraging to note. Their spirits hadn't been this high since before the attack back at the lab. I wasn't sure if it had anything to do with Keazar and me setting our differences aside, or if it was anticipation over the upcoming storytelling session. Whichever the case, I was still glad of it. The mood was festive as everyone pitched in and began putting together a feast.

"Has anyone seen Lazzon?" I asked casually as we approached.

They all stopped what they were doing and looked questioningly from one to the next. A sullen mood quickly closed in, and I was suddenly, I was afraid that I had broken the spell that had befallen on us when Wary, sensing the same thing, said, "We haven't seen him, yet, but we were hoping to pay our fee."

Linit and Loté shook their heads from side to side, indicating the same. No one had seen Lazzon. As if the tension suddenly broke, all resumed what they were doing and the festive mood returned. Everyone was excited about the storytelling session that was due to start as soon as we found Lazzon and got some food in our bellies.

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere," I said cheerily, sighing inwardly. "I'll just find him and invite him to join us."

As I turned away from the rest, not sure which direction to begin my search, I suddenly heard a low growling sound from just beyond the reach of the light. It was quickly followed by Lazzon's voice, reassuring Shaque that everything was all right. It was as if they had just stepped through a door in the darkness and been surprised by how close we were. They must not have been aware that we had moved to the bow of the ferry in their absence. Seeing me clearly, as I stood looking in their direction with the torch held high over my head, they were unaware that I was incapable of seeing them in the darkness.

"Lazzon," I called softly. "We were just about to eat. Would you care to join us?"

Listening intently so that I could judge their position and distance, I was startled by the close proximity of his voice as he answered me.

"I would be delighted, Captain Rodick," he said, his delight seeming genuinely sincere.

"Please, just call me Rod," I said, watching as he stepped out of the darkness and into the smoky shadows of the torchlight.

As he drew nearer, I was able to distinguish his ancient features for the first time. From the crystal blue of his eyes, which literally defied the orange flames of the torches, to his tougher than leather skin that stretched taut over his hawk-like nose, to the dull black and weathered robe with its rust stain creeping upwards from its tattered bottom edge, there was little that I missed. Over the years, the ruddy color had worked its way up, gradually fading back to black as it neared his waist. If I had any notions that he ever used any of the hot water at his disposal for washing his clothes or himself, I quickly dispensed with it.

"Okay then, Rod," he hesitated, affirming the idea of just calling me 'Rod', before continuing. "I have no need of your food, but I would greatly appreciate your company and that of your friends. It's like I told you before, I don't get many visitors through here, as of late."

Shaque suddenly went bounding past me, having caught the scent of the women and quickly forgetting all else. As one, we all froze in our tracks. Wary skillfully slipped his knife free of its scabbard, ready to protect Brae from another assault on her personage. Keazar, though somewhat more unwieldy, was also drawing his long-knife, a look of hungry bloodlust coming over his face. Torn between diplomacy and drawing my own knife against Lazzon, he suddenly blew a quick, sharp warning through his teeth. His pet instantly froze in its tracks, its eyes slowly drifting from the women to Wary. It sensed the danger from that quarter, but it didn't fear him. Slowly, almost casually, it turned away from them, and trotted back to Lazzon.

"I am sorry! Please do not blame him. I assure you that he will not be a problem to any of you again, especially the ladies. You must understand that it is not often that we have visitors. It is with even less frequency when these visitors are such beautiful women such as the likes of you. But to have three beautiful women riding my ferry at the same time, it is almost more than even I can stand," he said almost gaily, and loud enough for all to hear, especially Linit, Brae, and Loté.

After laying thin tarps down to cover the rusty metal, Loté came over to stand beside me, facing Lazzon. Reaching out, she took his hand in hers and invited him to sit next to us on our tarp.

"I would be honored," he said, letting her lead him to the tarp. His unease at being so close to her was almost palpable. He was the type of man that wouldn't be intimidated by another man, but would turn into a babbling fool if given the attention of a beautiful woman. Despite his brusque mannered pet, I couldn't help but take a liking to him. In a way, we were cut from the same bolt of cloth.

A strange thought crossed my mind as I considered our one major difference. For the briefest of moments, I had to wonder what he would be like having just emerged from a recycling capsule. Notwithstanding his advanced years, I could still feel the energy radiating from him. I could only imagine the power and strength that he wielded during the prime of his life.

Speaking easily, if not a bit stiffly because of Loté's proximity to him, Lazzon started, "It is indeed a pleasure to be seated in the company of such fine people. I am not one that would normally mix business with pleasure, for there is so little of each to be had here. However, I feel that I must tell you how I look forward to the stories that you will bestow upon me. Surely, I will not be disappointed by travelers with such varying experiences as you surely possess."

"Are you sure that you will not share in this food with us?" Loté asked, offering him a cut of meat that was obviously the leanest from the larder.

"Oh no, I am fine. The water has seen to my needs, thank you," he replied graciously.

Unable to refrain myself any longer, I abruptly blurted, "You will forgive me, I hope, for I realize it is rude of me to ask questions of our host, who is also our guest, but you have alluded to the water taking care of you. Would you mind terribly explaining just what you mean by that?"

With everyone's attention now turned toward him, I didn't see how he could evade the question. Having been put on the spot, I half-expected him to squirm or fidget, but he remained absolutely unperturbed.

"No, not at all," he replied calmly. "The water provides my meals."

"You mean, don't you," asked Wary, "That you catch edible creatures from the water that you can eat?"

"Yes. I suppose you could say that I catch 'edible creatures'. But I really prefer to think of it as the water giving me what it can spare so that I may subsist in harmony with it," he casually replied.

I knew the others were thinking the same thoughts as me. If he wanted to rationalize the killing of creatures by referring to them as the water's over abundance, then that was his prerogative. None of us was in a position to judge another man's motives or beliefs.

Straining to contain myself from asking more questions, I forced my thoughts instead to the food laid out before me. Although there would be plenty of time in which I would have ample opportunities to ask questions of our host, the impatient side of me finally won out.

"I am curious, Lazzon," I asked between mouthfuls. "What is the means of propulsion for this old ferry?"

"It is so simple, you will laugh," he replied as a smile lit up his rough, leathery face.

"Please, try me," I pleaded congenially, returning his smile.

"Okay, if you insist. I will do my best to explain it. But you must know that it has been many years mind you since it was originally explained to me, and that at a time in my life when such things seemed all too irrelevant. So, please, if you will, bare with me while I attempt to remember the details," he began. "It's based on a very simple principle referred to as 'transference'. Where the ferry is concerned, there are actually two very distinct forms of this 'transference' energy that come to bear. One of these forms of energy is thermal and the other is electro-magnetic. Do you really want me to continue, or am I boring the poor ladies already?"

"Oh please, my good man," Keazar prodded enthusiastically. "Please, do continue. I assure you, we are not bored. This has to be the most stimulating conversation that I've had in a long time. Do go on, I beg of you."

"Well!" Linit said exasperatedly, looking not at Lazzon, but at Keazar. "Are you trying to tell me that my conversation bores you?"

Everyone's attention focused on Keazar, watching with interest to see how he would finagle his way out of this predicament that he had just put himself in with Linit. Keazar was not inculpable. Realizing the slip of his tongue, his face turned a bright shade of red. Squirming and fidgeting to no avail, it suddenly dawned on me; this was the first and only time that I had ever seen the big man at a loss for words.

There were two different sets of feelings concerning Keazar's self-induced plight. From the women's camp came indignation and exasperation. While from the men's camp, a combination of relief and pity. Relief that it was Keazar, and not they, that were sitting in the hot seat. And pity, because they could each understand and share in his plight.

Quickly, in an attempt to rescue him from his situation, but more importantly, because I was truly interested in Lazzon's answer, I said, "I am sure that what Keazar meant about not being bored was most sincere, Lazzon." I hesitated long enough to turn my gaze on Linit before continuing, "But I think what our friend intended was in reference to past technical conversations, not ones of a social nature."

"Of course, I did!" he cut in quickly, looking for redemption.

"You are all obviously sincere, when you state your interest concerning my theory. So if it pleases you further, I will continue," he said easily, a sparkle highlighting the blue in his eyes. There was no mistaking the pleasure that he was taking in watching the social interactions between us; he was truly enjoying himself. I had to wonder how long it had been since he had last socialized with human beings.

"You may have noticed that the deeper one goes into a body of water the colder the water becomes. That is the basis of heat transfer. Colder molecules of water are denser than their warmer counterparts. Thus, they fall to the lower depths while the warmer molecules rise to the surface," he started again. "This body of water is fed by several springs of varying temperatures of water. These springs enter near the bottom. However, because they are gradually warmer nearer to one end of the cavern then the other, the water is constantly flowing from the warmer end toward the cooler end on a transverse angle."

"That would explain how the ferry moves from one side of the cavern to the other," I interjected, as understanding came to me. "However, that doesn't explain how you get it back to the opposite end."

"That is where the second form of transference comes into play. We will call this 'electrical transference'," he continued. "You might have noticed that the whole ferry is constructed of iron. While it is being pulled along on the warmer current of water, the water is gradually cooling. As it cools, it in turn cools the metal. This cooling reacts to the different metals within the ferry's construction, causing some parts to shrink faster than others. The friction that these different metals exhibit upon each other creates a minute, positive electrical charge. Between this positive electrical charge created by the ferry, and the naturally occurring negative charge generated by the planet, the ferry is pulled along on an axis in much the same way a compass needle is pulled. Thus, the ferry is pulled back to the side of the cavern with the warmer water source. However, by the time the ferry reaches the opposite end, the positive charge has been neutralized and the process begins all over again."

He hesitated for a moment to take a sip of water. When he continued, it was clear that he had given us all the technology concerning the ferry that he possessed. If he had known anything else concerning its function or purpose, I had no doubts that he would have willingly shared that with us also.

Having concluded, he proudly added, "I have been riding this rusty old piece of steel back and forth for more years than I care to remember. In all that time, the journey across has never deviated by so much as a minute."

"Then maybe, you could explain the rusty paddle," I said casually. "We all heard you dipping it in the water just before you arrived at the ledge where you found us."

"When I near the banks on either side of the cavern, I am able to make some fine turning adjustments. When I saw the light of your torches, I did just that. Now, when we reach the center of the cavern, you will notice a strange feeling beneath your feet. Please, do not panic. If you feel a little nauseous during this time, you might find some relief by lying down. What will be happening is that the ferry will be torn between the pull of the water current, and the pull of the magnetic field. It is during this transition, from the pull of one force to the pull of the other, that the ferry is realigned between the two ends."

"This is most interesting, my good man," said Keazar excitedly. "I am looking forward to this place near the middle of our journey. If I am unable to detect it on my own, can I trust that you will point it out for us?"

"I will be glad to. But I assure you, it will not be necessary," he replied. "You will know when the forces are in transition."

During the lengthy explanation, we'd all finished our food. As we cleaned up and packed away the leftovers, it was with some surprise to us when Keazar, suddenly pulling a large flagon from his pack, offered it to Lazzon.

"I would like to propose a toast to our new friend," he began, as Lazzon innocently reached for the proffered flagon. "I knew you wouldn't eat our food, which is okay. However, you must partake of this deliciously fermented beverage. It is from the highest quality ingredients to be found, possessing an exquisite flavor. Even on the surface of the planet, where its humble origins began, it is highly prized."

There was a concerted gasp amongst us, followed by a hushed silence. It was common knowledge among our group that anything that came from the surface had been purchased with recycled humans. Whether the distilled potable had been obtained through the black market, or indirectly through the slave market, was irrelevant. Just the idea that Keazar still possessed it, and furthermore thought highly of it, glared in the face of all human indignity. This was so unlike the Keazar that we had come to know and love.

Lazzon had unknowingly reached for the flagon, but now he hesitated, suddenly aware of the reaction Keazar's words were having on the rest of us. Slowly, he retracted his arm, apparently confused and at a loss as to what he should do. If he took the offered flagon, he clearly upset the rest of us. Yet, if he didn't accept it, he would be acting ungraciously toward Keazar.

Linit was the first to recover her voice.

"Keazar! I can't believe you!" she cried indignantly as she rose to her feet and then skulked off into the darker shadows.

"I found it back at the lab!" he called after her. "I saw no harm in bringing it along! Besides, it is a fine drink. I thought that if we had occasion to celebrate, it would come in handy."

"How many people's lives were sold into slavery so that you could taste the sweetness, Keazar?" spat Brae venomously.

"Forgive me my ignorance," said Lazzon softly, almost fearfully. "But it would seem that something is going on here that I don't understand. Please be aware that I have not had many opportunities to socialize, as of late. Would I be too forward if I asked what just happened here?"

"It's a long story, Lazzon," I said as congenially as I could, considering the circumstances. "One that still isn't over, I'm afraid. To explain even briefly, just giving you the highlights would require me to explain to you the whole reason that we are here on this journey. I hope you can understand, and let it suffice to say that Keazar has just made a fool of himself, and let it go at that."

Expecting Keazar to rebuff my remark, we were all slightly surprised when he remained quiet, keeping his thoughts to himself. One thing we all noticed with saddened hearts was that he returned the flagon to his pack, rather than pour it over the side of the platform as a gesture of apology.

"Maybe this story could be your fare to me," Lazzon smoothly replied. "You most definitely have my interest piqued."

"Actually, I had hoped Keazar would be the one to pay our passage to you. We would all enjoy sharing one of his many interesting experiences," I started softly, gaining conviction as I went. "But maybe you're right. Maybe the story of our adventures that have brought us together to this place and time would be good for all of us!" And then more harshly, while looking directly at Keazar, I added, "Because it is more than apparent that some of us have forgotten why we are here!"

"Good!" said Lazzon enthusiastically, either not noticing my vehemence, or choosing to ignore it, I cared not which. "Could we possibly begin now?"

"Yes, we can begin now. In fact, I think we will all partake in the telling of this story. Since we are all in this together, it is only right that we shall each pay our own fare." When no one responded, I continued, "Good, then this is how it will work. I will begin the story by telling my own tale. As the story progresses, each of us in turn will tell their tale as it happened to them."

I spoke with deliberation, quashing any protests before they could take voice. Looking from one to the next, I could see the excitement growing in each face that surrounded me. All were interested in hearing the story of their friend, as told through their friend's eyes. Even I was looking forward to the tales that were to come.

"Maybe Linit will be back before we get to her part of the story. If not, someone will have to find her. But yes," I said, turning back to face Lazzon, a sense of excitement and anticipation beginning to overwhelm me. "We will tell you a story, my friend; we will tell you our story!"

### **11**

The telling of our individual adventures continued for more than three days. Lazzon moved from his place on the blanket-covered deck only once each day. Within twenty minutes, Earth-time, he would return, always taking his place in much the same position for the next twenty-four hour period. With the sharing of the story telling, it wasn't necessary to stop in order to eat, only to sleep. And yet, because of our abundant rest and lack of physical exertion, combined with the intrigue we found in each of our comrade's tales, sleeping was rarely indulged in. Much to my dismay, we weren't getting the kind of rest that I had envisioned during our trip across the cavern. By the time we reach the other end, we will be mentally exhausted, if not physically.

Linit rejoined us within a few hours of her storming away. Upon returning, she seemed genuinely eager to tell her part of our history together, even though her part wasn't very long in the telling. When she came and rejoined the rest of us, she still sat next to Keazar, but not in the close personal way that she had been before. It was obvious to everyone that she was hurt and disappointed by her lover's actions. We all were. However, her wounds were much more severe than our own. She was genuinely embarrassed by him, and yet, she was in love with him.

During the story-telling period, the mood aboard the ferry was bordering on joyous celebration. Everyone was excited and eager to hear their friends' accounts of their personal adventures that had brought us together. We were also growing closer, as we shared intimate feelings that we'd experienced during our times of peril.

All, that is, but one.

Keazar remained sullen and distant during the entire three days of storytelling. When it came time for him to relate his version of the events, he barely gave a brief overview. He added nothing more than what could have been gleaned from listening to the others, and even this he did begrudgingly. When he finished, he immediately got up and wandered off, preferring the company of the darkness to that of his friends.

This was so unlike the Keazar that had always been so full of himself, so eager to tell you his life story with just the least bit of encouragement. I felt sure that once he started talking, he would lose himself in the story. Like good therapy, I think we all expected Keazar to come around. But that wasn't the case. In fact, it would have been less surprising if we would have had to ask him to shut up so that everyone got their chance to speak, instead of the few minutes that he spent breezing over his story.

The fact that he didn't tell us any more than had already been mentioned by the rest of us wasn't lost on me. If I had not been with him almost constantly since being resuscitated, I would have sworn that he wasn't sure of what had happened to him since being taken hostage by us when we first met. In fact, I got the distinct feeling that if I had questioned him on any of the details describing the manner in which Wary and I had overpowered his personal guards, he would have been at a loss to relate them. And not because he had been frightened to death during the event, but because he hadn't really been there. His memories were hit and miss, at best.

At the conclusion of our final tale, Lazzon quickly pointed out his satisfaction with regard to our fare. He went so far in his exclamation of our story-telling abilities, to admit that we were the best fare he had ever received. He added that, if we should ever return this way at some time in the future, he would transport us at no charge.

"We thank you for your appreciation of our efforts. We are glad that you feel the way you do, but I must admit," I said sincerely, "This telling of our tale has been great medicine for our own spirits as well. It is with renewed vigor that we now look forward to the remainder of our journey. For this, we must thank you."

"I am sad for your dear friend, Keazar," he said sympathetically. "Maybe he will be cheered to know that we are about to feel the transition of pull."

Suddenly, from out of the darkness, Keazar started yelling and shouting. The excitement in his voice had us on our feet immediately. Looking in the direction from which the sound of his voice was coming, we knew instantly what had provoked him. Far off our starboard side, could be seen the flickering of several large torches. The distance was too great, and the light being cast from the torches too dim to distinguish the exact number of people gathering there. However, there were clearly a large number of bodies milling about on what could only be the four-foot wide pathway that ran along the edge of the cavern.

As we continued watching, more torches were lighting up at a steady rate. At least that was what it appeared to be at first glance. Looking harder, though, we could see that the torches weren't flaring to life at all. Rather, they were emerging as if from the mouth of a tunnel. The longer I watched the more certain of this I became.

Upon realizing that we were continuing on past them, the torches started waving in a concerted effort. They were obviously trying to signal us. There could be no other explanation for the unified method of waving the torches.

As the ferry continued to carry us past them, the waving of the torches became more frantic in nature. Surely, it was meant to mean more than just a simple 'hello'. Briefly, I wondered if it hadn't been for Keazar's screaming and yelling, if we would have floated unnoticed past them.

Keazar, meanwhile, had turned and was facing Lazzon, ordering him to turn the ferry toward the distant lights. Without much success, Lazzon was trying to explain to him that he was unable to make the ferry turn that sharp, especially when we were about to experience the transition of pull. Even if he could have steered it that far off its natural course, it was during this change in forces that the course of the ferry self corrected and realigned with the opposite ends of the cavern.

Keazar was beside himself with hysteria. With spittle flying from his mouth, he suddenly changed tactics and began begging Lazzon to turn the ferry. Not wanting to believe what I was seeing, I looked on in bewilderment as Keazar lost all control of himself. Grabbing Lazzon by the shoulders, he started shaking him vigorously while simultaneously continuing his frenzied pleading, demanding that Lazzon turn the ferry to starboard.

Linit suddenly slumped down on the blanket by the campfire and started crying uncontrollably. Loté looked at me, begging me with her eyes to go to him, to make him stop. For all of our sakes, Keazar needed to get control of himself.

Meanwhile, she went to Linit's side and put her arm around her in an attempt to console her. Not sure exactly what I could say or do, I nonetheless started toward the big man that I had come to know and trust as my friend, all the while, hearing Loté's sustained efforts to comfort Linit. It suddenly seemed as if the whole world were going crazy.

Wary fell in beside me, hesitating only long enough to grab a large torch and light it at the fire.

"Let him go, Keazar!" I sternly ordered him.

"But he won't turn the ferry," Keazar whined, sounding small and pathetic. Turning to look at me over Lazzon's shoulder, he continued to whine and beg, "Those poor people over there are waiting for us, and he won't turn the ferry. You have to make him turn the damn thing now, before it's too late!"

"Do you know those people over there, Keazar?" Wary gently questioned him, a new thought forming in all of our collective minds. "Are those people over there the reason that you insisted on taking the path to the right?"

Instead of answering the question that was foremost in all of our thoughts, Keazar continued whining, "Don't you see? They're waiting for us. We're supposed to be over there, not out here on the water. This isn't right. Can't any of you see that? You have to make him turn. Please Rod; you have to convince him before it's too late!" Then suddenly, his voice transformed. In a deep baritone, he demanded, "Now! Change course, now!"

Without warning, Keazar drew his short knife and plunged it at Lazzon's chest. Even quicker than any of us could react, Shaque was between them.

Neither Wary nor I saw it coming. It was almost as though the creature had materialized out of thin air. One minute it wasn't there, and the next, it was on Keazar.

Before the big man even knew what had hit him, Shaque was closing his powerful jaws around his throat. The knife that Keazar wielded missed its intended mark, landing in Shaque's chest, instead.

Before either of us could move to stop the carnage, Shaque's tremendous bulk and momentum carried the two of them over the side. Locked together in death, they created a tremendous splash as their combined bulks struck the surface of the water. Almost immediately following the splash from their bodies striking the water, the ferry was struck by a small tsunami, heaving water up over the rusted surface of the deck. Spreading with the rapidity of a mortal wound, the water was quickly absorbed into the dryer layer of rust-dust, transforming it into the ominous color of spilled blood.

Without thinking, I lunged forward, hoping to grab some part of Keazar and pull him back aboard. I was halted in my tracks, a hand digging into my right shoulder, yanking me viciously backwards. Simultaneously, I felt a tremendous surge beneath me as the ferry suddenly corrected its course and started picking up speed. If not for the hand that had reached out and grabbed me, I would have gone face first into the water. Instead, I landed flat on my ass with Lazzon and Wary standing to either side of me.

Jumping to my feet, I grabbed the torch from Wary and made my way cautiously to the edge of the platform. Although I held the torch high above my head, I could see nothing but the black inky surface reflecting the light of the torch back up at me. Looking to where the lights had been waving just moments before, I was surprised at how much more distant they had become. It was now impossible to even discern the number of lights, much less the people that had been milling around them.

"They're gone," said Lazzon softly.

"How can that be? He was just here a minute ago!"

"No. He was out there a minute ago. If I had not grabbed you when I did, you would also be out there," he replied almost casually. "I am sorry for your friend."

"You have to turn this thing back! We can't just leave him out there," I cried frantically. "He might still be alive!"

"Even if Shaque didn't kill him for attempting to do me harm, I assure you, he is dead by now. And for the last time, I cannot turn this damn thing around! I cannot stop it, and I cannot make it go backwards! Did you not hear anything that I said, when I explained how it worked?" he cried emphatically, anger flaring in his eyes. Then just as quickly, he regained his composure and said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I too have just lost a friend."

Without another word, he turned and stoically walked off into the dark. Shaking, despite the heat, I turned toward Wary for support. He moved closer, putting a hand on my shoulder, his head hanging down with the weight of his own grief. He looked as whipped as I felt. Linit suddenly screamed, shattering the silence that had ensued. Her comprehension of what had just happened was striking at the very core of her existence, shattering her being.

The thought of losing Keazar was almost too much to bear. The way he died made the situation even more unbearable; without a body, there was nothing to recycle. As this last thought struck me, another thought also came to me. With a resurgence of hope, I remembered the tissue samples that we had all donated. If our clones were still in the incubator capsules, and surely, they must be, then there was a good chance that his soul would find the body that was still growing. Almost unable to contain my excitement, I began to wonder what Lute and Elsa would think when they resuscitated him. They were in for a big surprise!

"We will meet again, my good friend," I said into the dark.

"Come," said Wary softly. "Let's go join the others. We will grieve together over the loss of our good friend."

Before we reached the others, I shared my convictions concerning Keazar and his resuscitation with Wary. Upon listening to my explanation, he too, became convinced that Keazar was only lost to us temporarily. We both shared the same feelings of certainty that when we returned to the lab, we would find him waiting for us in good health and in good spirit.

"Linit, listen to me," I said as we approached the others. "Wary and I have given this some thought and we feel very confident that we have not seen the last of Keazar."

"How can you say that?" she cried at me. "You saw his body disappear beneath the water! We all know that without his body we cannot recycle him."

"Ah, yes. That is so true," I said gently. "But even as we speak, there is a new Keazar being grown back in the lab. While we are mourning his loss here, Lute and Elsa are getting close to resuscitating his body. Just think of their surprise when they discover that they have the real Keazar on their hands," I added jovially.

"He's right," added Wary. "Since the clones Lute and Elsa are growing aren't completed yet, it only makes sense that his soul will find the new body."

Slowly, Linit's tears began to abate as she mulled this new information over. She was trying hard to believe what we were telling her, but she needed more encouragement.

"What if his clone has already been resuscitated, what then?" she asked skeptically.

"There's no way that a clone could have been grown to completion in the short amount of time that we've been gone," I reassured her. Turning to Wary, I added, "I'd like to talk to you in private for a minute."

"Sure," he said unhesitatingly. Turning toward Brae, he said, "I'll be right back. Could you stay here with Linit and Loté, please?"

"Sure," she simply answered, her eyes looking quizzically into Wary's eyes. For an answer, he simply shrugged, and then turned to follow me.

Having extinguished the torch upon returning to the cook fire, I hesitated for a moment before deciding against relighting it. Where we were going, we wouldn't need any light. Besides, we could follow the light of the fire back. We headed in the direction from which we had just come, since we knew it was free of dangerous rust holes. Once we were safely out of earshot of the others, I stopped and reached out to him. Gently grabbing him by the arm, I asked, "Notice anything?"

"Yes," he answered immediately. "The lights are gone."

"There's no way that we could have traveled far enough in the past few minutes to be out of sight of them! Whoever those people were, they left after they realized the ferry wasn't coming back to them," I added, my thoughts beginning to race. "Why do you think Keazar was demanding Lazzon to turn the ferry? He seemed obsessed with the idea of joining up with those people."

"Yes, he did," he answered softly. "Those people also seemed quite eager to have us come to them. Did you notice how they were waving the torches to get our attention?"

"Yeah, I did," I hesitated. "Do you remember how Keazar was so obsessed with taking the pathway to the right, even before Lazzon showed up with the ferry?" I asked, debating within myself if I should continue with this train of thought. "Wary, I don't mean any offence toward Keazar, and I would still trust him with my life. But I feel that I must share this next thought with you," I said softly. "My gut is telling me that Keazar knew those people would be there. It's also telling me that it was his intention all along to meet up with that group of people." I hesitated a moment before adding, "I only suspected that something was wrong earlier. But after what he said, when he was pleading with Lazzon to turn the ferry around, I can't ignore it any longer. And you can't deny that you didn't hear his words, either. He specifically said that we were supposed to be over there, and not out here on the water! That sounds as if he knew about those people all along!"

"You can't mean that!" he replied indignantly. "If you honestly believe what you just said, then you would also have to believe that he was about to betray us!"

"I do. That's why I wanted to talk to you in private, Wary. I didn't want Linit hearing my suspicions. She's already having a hard enough time dealing with her loss. She doesn't need to hear my weakly substantiated ideas and accusations."

"I don't buy it! You can think what you want, but I'll never believe that he was anything more than a loyal friend and comrade! In fact, when we meet up with him again, you will owe him an apology! And I'll make sure he gets it, Rod."

"I hope for all of our sakes that I am wrong. I don't want to think it any more than you, but my gut and the evidence speaks differently. All I'm asking is that you think about it. Maybe talk it over with Brae, see what she thinks. Meanwhile, though, I don't want any of this getting back to Linit, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say," he sullenly agreed before angrily adding," But you can bet that I'm going to discuss it with Brae. I want her to see how quickly you turn on your friends! I'm really disappointed in you, Rod. Maybe in the future, you should keep your thoughts to yourself!"

Without another word, he turned on his heel and headed back to rejoin the others. Staying a moment longer, I looked off into the dark where the lights had been. Wary had no idea how these thoughts tore me up inside. In the short time that I had known Keazar, I had come to believe in him and love him like a brother. It was not an easy thing to suspect him of trying to betray us. Nevertheless, I had learned to trust in my instincts, and they told me that I wasn't wrong about this!

The remainder of the journey on the ferry passed uneventfully. For the most part, we did little, except eat and sleep. Lazzon didn't return again until the last day, when we were scheduled to reach the far side of the cavern. Looking at him, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw the age etched into his face. If he had looked old before, he looked doubly so now. The mood on the ferry was melancholy since the loss of Keazar, but at least Linit had regained her composure enough to look after herself without Loté's aid. I kept my suspicions about Keazar possibly setting us up for betrayal to myself, and thankfully, Wary appeared to do the same. Moreover, after the way he'd rebuffed me, I feared telling Loté, and risk having her do the same toward me. Yet, Loté suspected that something had happened between Wary and I, because of the way that we avoided each other since having our private talk. However, she didn't push me for an explanation, and for that, I loved her even more.

"We will be docking within a few hours," Lazzon said, approaching our sullen and withdrawn little group.

I nodded acknowledgment to him. It was impossible to tell where we were in relation to the walls of the cavern, due to the impenetrable darkness that surrounded us.

Instead of turning away from us and disappearing into the dark, he remained where he was, nervously shifting from one foot to the other. He wanted to say something, but was unsure exactly how to begin. When it became obvious that no one was going to help him out, he finally said, "There is something I would like to discuss with you."

"Go ahead. You can talk freely in front of us," I gently urged, when he hesitated again.

"I have been riding this rusty old ferry back and forth the distance of this cavern for more time than I care to remember. I have met some interesting folks along the way. I have also met some that were downright unsavory."

When he paused again, I asked of him, "So what are you trying to say, exactly?"

"I guess, what I am trying to say is, for all the miles that I have traveled going back and forth in this darkened cavern, I haven't really gotten very far. And I was wondering," he nervously hesitated again, took a breath, and then boldly continued. "If you and your friends would allow me, I would desire to come along with you." Quickly, before anyone could protest, he added, "Since the death of Shaque, I cannot imagine what it will be like to remain here alone, with no companionship. He was a good friend, if slightly unconventional. He kept me from going over the brink of insanity on many occasions. I will miss him more than I think I can even imagine. In the last two days, I have had much time to think, and I have determined that I will not be able to endure this place, or the unending solitude that will ensue, when you all take your leave and depart on your noble journey."

Turning, I looked toward Wary, wanting to see what his reaction was before I responded to Lazzon's request. Wary, sensing my indecision, quickly gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of his head, indicating that he wasn't opposed.

Turning back toward Lazzon, I said, "You can come along with us, but there will be a few rules that you will have to adhere to. If you decide that you can live by them, we will be glad to have you."

I tried to sound forbidding, wanting him to understand that we were on a serious and dangerous endeavor, and not just out for a leisurely stroll. There was to be much bloodshed in our future, possibly even some of our own.

"Tell me what it is that you expect of me," he cautiously replied, before agreeing to them.

The way he waited to hear all the information so that he could weigh it first before making a binding decision, only added to my growing respect for him. He was not a man to make a commitment lightly. Whichever way his decision went, I felt confident that he would stick by it to the end. He had heard our complete story, and understood full well what we were up against, and why we were willing to sacrifice our lives for it, if that was required.

"First, I think you ought to know just where we are headed, and what we plan to do when we get there," I began in earnest.

Before I had finished, I had laid out our whole plan to him, including the reasons why. Silently, he sat through the telling, much the same way that he had when we paid his fare. Most of what I told him was just reaffirming what he had already learned from the storytelling.

Concluding, I said, "Now that you know where we are going, and the danger that we are up against," I hesitated for effect, and to give him time to digest everything that he had been told before continuing. "We'll understand if you no longer care to join us."

He sat in silence a while longer, mulling it over before giving us his answer. The tension grew with each passing moment as we waited for him to speak. We'd held nothing back. The decision was entirely up to him.

Finally, he spoke. "I will get my few possessions," he said, rising to his feet. "This mission you are committed to is a noble one. I am honored to be joining you."

Without waiting for anyone to reply, he turned and strode slowly into the dark and out of the reach of the torch's feeble light. A feeling of gladness and calm descended on our small company, but why exactly we felt this way, we didn't know.

Loté was the first to break the silence. "If Linit doesn't object," she started hesitantly. "Maybe Lazzon could use Keazar's supplies."

We all looked apprehensively toward Linit, waiting for her response.

"Yes, I suppose that would be all right," she answered weakly, once again on the verge of tears. "But, please, let me go through his pack first."

"Of course," replied Loté quickly. Speaking gently, she added, "You take whatever you want, it is only right."

Though we were still unable to see the end of our journey across the water, we believed that we were almost there. While Linit and Loté were going through Keazar's gear, Wary and I began to sort out the rest of the supplies. From having spent such a long time in one place, almost everything had been pulled from the various packs at one time or another. Most of it had been left lying around on the pretense that it would only make it easier to find the next time that it was needed.

Our supply of flammable fluid had been all but consumed from having been used to maintain the cook fire. It wasn't a crucial commodity, since we wouldn't be using the torches much once we reentered the tunnels, but I still noted it for future reference.

We were just closing the last of the packs, and making sure the water flagons were topped up, when Lazzon reappeared. He had stripped off his long black robe to reveal a thin, pasty-white body, clad only in a black loincloth. The small, tight-fitting skullcap, however, still adorned his head. Over his right shoulder, he'd slung a black cloth bag containing several bulky items. The bag looked as if it could have been made from the same material as his loincloth. This, in turn, looked as if it could have been made from the robe that he had been wearing just moments before.

"Here are your supplies," I said, handing him the pack that previously belonged to Keazar. When I saw the way he was already struggling with his own bag, I quickly added, "If it becomes more of a burden than you can handle, we'll distribute some of it around between the rest of us. Most of the supplies are community property, anyway."

"No. That would be unfair to the others," he quickly replied. "If the load is more than I can shoulder, then I will just have to leave some of my possessions behind. However, I am sure that won't be necessary. Not only would I not want to part with any of them, I also have a strong feeling that some of them might come in handy later on."

"We'll do our best to make sure that you don't have to leave anything behind," said Wary. "We have extra weapons," he added quickly, upon noting that Lazzon wasn't wearing one. "Let me break out a knife and sheath for you from my own supply of spares."

"You are most generous," he replied sincerely. "But I feel that until I have proven to you that I can be trusted, you will all feel safer knowing that I am unarmed."

Brae suddenly cried out excitedly from the bow of the ferry, "Look, there!"

Turning our heads as one, we all saw what had to be the reflection of the torch off the cavern wall. We had made it across! As if by physical force, I could feel the mood amongst us changing. Instantly, we were throwing off the dregs of our melancholy depression, and re-adorning ourselves in exuberance and anticipation. Once again, we were looking forward to the future, and what it held in store for us!

### **12**

With a loud metallic clank, the ferry struck up against the well-worn stone of the narrow outcropping. Except for the fact that we were now facing one hundred and eighty degrees from the opposite end of the cavern, it almost appeared as though we had just gone around in a large circle to end up back where we'd started.

Wary was the first to step off the platform, only to fall flat on his face. After having been on the ferry for almost six days, our legs had grown accustomed to a small amount of sea-worthiness. When they were confronted with the solidity of the rock beneath our feet, they quickly gave way. Fortunately, the effect was only temporary, lasting just a few uncomfortable minutes.

Lazzon was the last to disembark. Standing off to one side, he watched with interest as the rest of us impatiently jumped to the ledge, only to plop down and wait for our legs to adjust. Though he clearly found our plight humorous, since he'd witnessed the same with prior passengers and had known what to expect, I sensed something deeper in his expression.

Because of the extended time that he had lived aboard the ferry, we all knew his legs would need more time to adjust than the rest of us. By his own account, he hadn't set foot on solid ground for several decades. However, that wasn't the reason behind his hesitation now. Not only had he recently lost Shaque, a devoted friend and companion, but he was facing a tremendous life-change; he was casting aside everything that was familiar and safe so that he could embrace a future of unknown danger and peril.

"It's only temporary," urged Wary as he showed the rest of us that he could stand again.

"Take your time, Lazzon," I suggested casually. "Wary's going to inspect the tunnel before we start, he'll be a little while," I added, throwing a knowing nod toward Wary.

After lighting a small torch, Wary shared a quick word with Brae, and then left his pack and headed into the mouth of the tunnel. We all saw him draw his knife just before entering, an additional measure of caution.

With Wary in the mouth of the tunnel and out of sight, I turned my attention back to Lazzon. He had made his way to the very edge of the platform and was now standing with his back to us. After taking one last look at what had been his home for the greater part of his life, he suddenly turned and briskly stepped off. He had lingered for as long as he possibly could, timing his departure with that of its lonely journey back to the other side.

Anticipating a fall, I quickly jumped to his side. However, I need not have bothered, as he stood unwavering before me.

"How are you managing?" I asked incredulously.

"It is all a matter of the mind, my friend," he answered casually. "Before stepping off the ferry, I put the suggestion in my subconscious that walking on the rock of the planet would be no different from walking on the steel of the ferry. It's all very simple, really."

"And just like that, after all the years that you have spent aboard the ferry, you are able to step off onto solid ground with no ill side-effects?"

"I would be glad to explain how it works in more detail when time allows," he offered. "But your friend Wary is already returning from his mission, and I am sure that you are impatient to restart your journey."

Alertly, I turned toward the mouth of the tunnel, somewhat annoyed with myself because someone else had detected Wary's return before I had. Not seeing him immediately, I was about to tell Lazzon that he must have been mistaken. However, before I could form the words, Wary suddenly appeared out of the black hole signifying the mouth of the tunnel.

"What is it?" I asked, alarmed that the small torch he had carried into the tunnel with him was now extinguished.

"Oh, it's all right," he answered quickly, looking down at the dead torch in his left hand as he realized the reason for my alarm. "It ran out of fuel, is all."

"How does the tunnel look? Did you see anything before you lost your light?" I asked.

"It looks good," he answered, helping Brae to her feet. "Judging by the thick layer of dust covering the floor, I would even venture to say that it hasn't been used for a long time."

"I haven't had any passengers through here for several months in earth-time," added Lazzon, confirming Wary's suspicion.

"There is something that I would like to ask you before we go, Lazzon, if you don't mind," I said, turning my gaze in his direction.

"Not at all. I will answer as best as I can."

"The water is extremely warm, even at this end. Why does it not steam? This cavern should be one solid fog bank."

"Now you ask something that I cannot answer," he replied with a smile. "If you please, though, I will give it some thought. If and when something plausible comes to mind, I will be more than glad to share it with you."

"No, don't worry about. Once we are gone from here, we will probably never return. It's not that important."

Hesitating for a moment longer, I waited while everyone was busy shouldering their packs. It had been more than five days since we'd had them strapped on our backs; it suddenly seemed liked a bigger chore to make our packs comfortable upon our respective backs, than it did to get our land-legs back.

When it appeared the fidgeting was pretty much over and everyone had adjusted their straps as best they could, I once again offered Lazzon the use of a weapon. He rejected my offer, using the same excuse that he'd used with Wary. Since I wasn't sure where the women stood, with regard to him having a weapon, I didn't feel it was my place to force the issue. Wary, I knew, was as comfortable with the idea as I was. He might even have preferred having another armed man amongst us. However, that didn't necessarily mean the women agreed.

"Wary will lead," I suggested casually. "Brae, Linit, Lazzon, Loté and then I will follow in that order. Set the pace as fast as you can safely do so, Wary, and stop at all intersections, including level changes," I quickly added.

Wary didn't waste any time, within minutes we were deep into the tunnel and moving swiftly. Soon after we had started, though, I began to regret my placement of Lazzon between Linit and Loté. It would have been much wiser to place him directly ahead of myself. Even though it was impossible to keep an eye on him in the pitch dark of the tunnel, I could have talked to him without having to raise my voice.

We'd traveled for approximately two hours when I decided it was probably for the better that I had been unable to converse with him. Even though I hadn't wasted breath in idle conversation, I was breathing hard and sweating harder. Though it had been less than a half dozen days since leaving the tunnels and boarding Lazzon's ferry, I had forgotten what it had been like to breathe the hot, foul air at the rear of a procession; it was also taking a bit of mental adjustment, getting used to the closeness of everything again.

With a sense of relief, mixed with anxiety, I heard Wary's voice ordering a halt. Doing some rapid calculations in my head to determine the distance that we'd covered, I quickly doubted that he had called the halt because we'd reached an intersection. The tunnel we were now in was even lower than the one that we'd exited on the far side of the cavern. But to our good fortune, it was slightly wider. Because of this extra width, it only took me a minimum of effort to slide past everyone and work my way up to the front of the column. Checking on each individual of our small company as I passed them, I satisfied myself that no one was unnecessarily over-loaded or exhausted. When I reached Lazzon, I paid particular attention to the sound of his voice. Feeling sure that a man of his age would be showing obvious signs of physical distress from the exertion, I was surprised when his voice betrayed nothing of the kind. In fact, he sounded even better than we did, despite his advanced age and lack of physical conditioning. Unlike the rest of us, which were gasping and struggling for air, he was breathing softly and evenly.

Pretending it was an innocent touch, I softly put a hand on his arm as I moved past him. I was shocked to discover that his skin was almost cool to the touch, and his heart rate was almost indiscernible. Keeping my surprise to myself, I continued on toward Wary.

"What is it?" I asked softly, confident that he would have informed me by now if any danger lay ahead.

"Just a breather," he said apologetically, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and confiding, "I hope you don't mind, but I was actually a little worried about our new friend back there. Did you happen to check on him when you passed him?"

"Yeah, I did," I said softly, and then lowered my voice to a whisper before continuing. "You're not going to believe this, but he is actually faring better than the rest of us."

"Are you sure?" he asked dubiously.

"Trust me," I replied in the same hushed tone. Then, raising my voice for all to hear, I added, "Let's take ten minutes; have a little food and lots of water."

Working my way back along the tunnel, I took several quick swallows of water from Linit and Lazzon, as they each offered me their flagons in passing. When I reached Loté, she was sitting with her back to the tunnel wall, drinking greedily from her own flagon.

"Just a short break to catch our breaths. I think we all got a little soft from sitting around on the ferry for the past week," I said, sitting down between her and Lazzon. "Maybe I should have implemented a regimen of exercise to keep our bodies fit, instead of a leisurely rest. Don't overdo it on the water; we'll be on the move again shortly." Turning my attention to Lazzon, I bluntly asked, "How is it that you're not sweating? Or even breathing hard, for that matter?"

It's like I told you before," he replied casually. "Let the mind take over the body."

"I wish that I knew what the hell you were talking about!" I said shortly, frustrated with what I perceived to be an evasive answer.

"Let me explain it to you, then" he answered softly, almost condescendingly. Immediately, I felt my ire rising. But I quickly fought it down, rationalizing that he hadn't meant to sound demeaning; it was just his way of responding to a request from someone that is ignorant to what he understands so well. "First, you have to clear your mind of all outside distractions. Once you have achieved that, you will see much clearer what needs to be accomplished in the here-and-now. After that, your mind will do what needs to be done."

"I'm sure it's not really that simple," I argued weakly, feeling unsure of my footing in this strange and unknown terrain involving mind control. I suddenly wished that Keazar were here. With his advanced knowledge and open mindedness, if anyone could, he would have understood Lazzon's explanation. And if he hadn't understood, he would have known the right questions to ask in order to prove or disprove it.

"Oh, but I assure you it is. Please, don't disregard it until you have tried it," he openly pleaded with me.

I was about to reply when I was interrupted by Wary's voice drifting softly down the tunnel, informing us that the break was over. With relief, I jumped to my feet and quickly turned to lend Loté a hand. She had been listening intently to my conversation with Lazzon, as I was sure the others had, too. And like the others, she had also remained quiet, content just to listen. I silently wondered if their silence was just a way to mask their confusion regarding Lazzon's explanation.

Our packs were still quite heavy with supplies and lots of fresh water. Rising from a sitting position with them strapped on our backs was awkward, at best. It had become our practice not to shed our packs for short breaks because of the time required to re-strap and readjust them. The problem of rising was compounded by the close confines of the tunnel. However, though the rest of us hadn't removed our packs, Lazzon had, and was now busily rummaging through it on the tunnel floor.

"What are you looking for?" I asked, slightly irritated by the delay.

Wary suddenly snuffed the small torch he had lit for the break, sending us crashing back into darkness.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, throwing everything back into his pack and regaining his feet. There was a swishing sound as he flung the pack over his shoulder before stooping to retrieve his personal bag of possessions. "We better hurry if we don't want to be left behind."

He quickly fell in step behind Linit, leaving Loté and myself standing alone in the dark.

"Follow me," I whispered in her ear. "I want to be behind him."

"What is it? What do you suspect?" she asked, just loud enough for only me to hear.

"I don't know. Something just doesn't seem right."

"We're all edgy over the loss of Keazar. Maybe that has something to do with the way that you're feeling."

"Yeah, maybe it does. Come on, before they get too far ahead."

We hurriedly caught up to the others, in spite of the brisk pace that Wary was setting. Though we knew we could possibly double our speed by simply lighting a torch, it was with no small amount of effort that I declined the temptation. Already our fuel supply was dangerously low. It seemed much more prudent to save the fuel for use in the small torches during our breaks. The luxury of having a little light, even occasionally to hold back the inky blackness of these unimproved tunnels did wonders for our morale.

Following directly behind Lazzon gave me an opportunity to exchange small bits of conversation with him. If Wary had lit a torch, the pace would have proved too demanding to allow even that. However, under the circumstances, we could spare the energy required. Moreover, having seen how well Lazzon was holding up, I wasn't immediately concerned for his endurance, either.

At first, I kept the questions simple, nothing that required a lengthy answer. But as he appeared eager to converse, I decided to question him further. And although I was admittedly confused by his earlier explanation regarding the mind-control that he exerted over his body, I had to admit that it left me intrigued. I was genuinely interested in the technique that he employed to separate his mind from the reality of the present.

Just as I opened my mouth to ask, he suddenly stopped, trying hard to avoid crashing into Linit. He might have been successful in his attempt if I had been paying more attention to what was going on around me instead of trying to interrogate him. But I wasn't paying attention and, regrettably, I ran headlong into him, driving him forward with my momentum.

Fortunately, Loté had been paying attention, and heard the shuffle immediately in front of her. Quickly realizing that the column had stopped, she was thus able to stop herself before running into me. Instead of apologizing to Lazzon, I decided to save it until I discovered whether it was safe to speak or not. Something had to be amiss for Wary to stop so abruptly without a word of warning.

Whispering to Loté, I told her to remain where she was until I could work my way up to Wary and see what was going on. She patted my back to indicate that she'd heard me.

Silently slipping forward, I came upon Lazzon and Linit still entangled in each other. Out of fear that one or the other might be injured, I felt my way along the tunnel wall so as not to inadvertently touch them. Even before I was past them, though, I could tell by the sound of their respective breathing that my touch would have gone unnoticed.

As I came up behind Brae, I felt her squatting near the floor, waiting on Wary. With a gentle hand on her shoulder, I slid past her and came up behind Wary. He was probing into the dark with his senses. Putting my hand on his left shoulder so that he was aware of my presence, I lowered myself down beside him so that I could whisper in his ear.

"What is it?"

"Scent," he whispered back.

Taking a deep breath, I knew immediately of what he was referring to; it was the stench that's generated by housing too many people in too close of confinement for too long a period of time.

"Soldiers?" I queried softly.

"That would be my guess. And I wouldn't be surprised if they were waiting for none other than us!" he replied, his voice belying his concern.

"Do you think it's possible that this is the same group of people that we passed on the lake?"

"With the maze of tunnels beneath this planet's surface, anything is possible," he agreed. But after a moment's hesitation, he added, "I don't think so, though, this smell is more reminiscent of one that would come from a camp that has overstayed its welcome."

"Let's move back to a point where we can speak more freely," I suggested. "More than likely, whether it's a camp of soldiers or refugees, they'll have posted sentries."

We stood and turned, facing back toward the direction from whence we'd just come. Brae began to move, but then abruptly stopped, her hands discovering Linit and Lazzon on the floor in front of her. From the sound of their shuffling, everyone knew that they were just now separating from each other's embrace. If I doubted anything else that Lazzon may have told me, I didn't doubt for a minute how long that he'd been without the companionship of a woman.

However, considering the circumstances, I would have thought that intimacy would have been the last thing on Linit's mind. For her to put a knife in Lazzon's back, I would have found less bewildering. Everyone knew that she blamed him, and held him responsible, for Keazar's death.

"We're moving back," I whispered softly, putting a hand on her shoulder, and gently turning her back down the tunnel.

We backtracked approximately fifty yards before I called a halt. We were still within earshot of the unknown camp, but I felt that we could talk safely if we kept our voices low. Huddling as close as the confines of the narrow walls allowed, Wary and I told the others of what we smelled and suspected.

Surprisingly, Lazzon was the first to speak, when we'd finished.

Still breathing a little erratically from the exertion of his encounter with Linit that was quickly followed by the hurried retreat, he began, "It has been many years since anyone has told me of the passages surrounding my cavern. However, I am quite sure that the opening onto the lake where we passed the people with the torches is connected to this one. My memory isn't what it once was, but I always knew there were passages that opened into the cavern along both sides. I witnessed people with torches along the sides in the past, and not always in the same place. Of course, this last trip was the first time that I ever had a passenger aboard the ferry that wanted me to pick up the torch-bearing people."

A shuffling sound carried to me, originating from approximately where Linit should be sitting. After quickly estimating the risks, I suggested to Wary that he light a small torch.

"Are you sure it's safe?" asked Loté with concern.

"Yeah, I'm sure. They won't smell the smoke over their own stench, and the light won't pass all the bends between them and us."

Not knowing what was going through Linit's mind, I decided the risk was worth being able to keep an eye on her. I was ashamed to admit it, even to myself, but I was having doubts about Keazar's loyalty. Doubts of loyalty or paranoia, I wasn't sure which. But I began to reason that it was also possible that he may have been sharing a secret agenda with the woman he loved. Until we could be sure of her loyalty to us again, I couldn't risk her slipping a knife into Lazzon, or for that matter, anyone of us.

As the light came to life, I was both shocked and ashamed of myself, when I realized that the cause of the noise was Linit snuggling in closer to Lazzon. He was sitting upright with his back to the warm stone of the tunnel wall, his right arm draped over her shoulder so that his right hand could fondle her right breast. She, meanwhile, was busy keeping him aroused with her own right hand, as she idly fondled his erect penis. Both had a dreamy, distant look in their eyes. I had to wonder, which would have been worse, Linit with her knife drawn and ready to slit Lazzon's throat, or the unexpected sexual flame that had sprung to life between them.

"Lazzon," I said a bit harsher than I intended, "I think it's time you strapped on a weapon. Maybe Linit has one she can spare."

This got their attention for the moment as Linit released his engorged organ and reached for the pack that she had dropped by her feet. After untying the straps, she hurriedly rummaged through it.

"There are several extras in here," she said, pulling out a small, bone-handled knife in a plain leather sheath. "This one has a good strong blade. It's forged from iron out of Lord Thar's domain. You can count on it not to break."

Lazzon, now kneeling, allowed Linit to tie the straps from the sheath around his waist.

"Do you want to tell me what it is that makes you feel that I might need this?" he casually inquired, once Linit had finished tying it off.

"I don't know, but I want everyone ready for anything, including you," I said, hoping to keep his attention now that I had it. "Wary, you'll come with me. We're going on a little scouting mission..."

"No!" hissed Loté suddenly. "You're not leaving me behind! Wary can stay here. I'll go with you!"

Looking into Loté's eyes and seeing the determination there, I realized that I didn't really have a choice. "Okay," I said, trying not to sound too begrudging. "You can go with me, but only to a point. When I feel that we have ascertained enough information, you're going to return so that it can be shared with the others."

"That's fine, let's go!" she eagerly agreed.

"Go ahead and keep the torch lit, unless you hear us coming on the run," I suggested to Wary. "We'll leave our gear here," I added, standing upright and sliding the pack from my back. Turning toward Loté, I said, "Come on, then, let's go see what lies ahead."

"Good luck," Wary whispered softly in my ear as I went past him and started down the tunnel. Loté followed silently at my heels.

We quickly passed the place where we had stopped originally. The stench of decaying fecal matter and other assorted rotting waste became stronger with each step that we took. When I felt the stench couldn't get any worse, unless we were walking through the actual rotting matter, we began to hear the drone of many voices, punctuated with an occasional yell or scream. How so many people were managing to camp in a tunnel of this size, I couldn't understand.

We were approximately one hundred yards from where we had left the others when I heard a scraping noise less than ten feet in front of us. Stopping suddenly, I put a hand out behind me to both stop Loté and warn her. As she had already stopped and was crouching down to my left, I could only assume that she had heard the same noise as I.

Gently, I tapped her on the head with my hand and then gave her a soft push, knowing she would understand my actions to mean that I wanted her to stay put. Confident that the noise was being made by a sentry, I silently moved forward with my knife held at the ready. When I had covered half the distance to the source of the sound, I silently dropped down to my belly and slithered forward until I was less than two feet from them. At this close range, I was able to place their position exactly by the scent that they were exuding. This, I could do, in spite of the stench that was wafting down heavily on us. When I was positive of the position that he was sitting in, I reached out and quickly grasped what I believed to be his head in the crux of my left arm. All in the same instant, I swung the knife over his right shoulder and pressed the blade up against what should have been his throat.

My intentions were not to kill him. Instead, it was only my intention to capture and subdue him so that we could interrogate him. It was of utmost importance to learn the true nature of the camp that lay just up ahead. We had to know if it contained friendly people, or warring soldiers.

Suddenly, and without warning, he stood up. What happened next was so unexpected that I was caught completely off guard. Because I never backed down from a fight, it never dawned on me to release my grip on him. Instead, I hung on and went up with him. What I had thought would be an easy capture of a single guard, suddenly turned into complete chaos. Before I knew what was happening, I was hanging from the back of a huge, hair-covered beast, standing more than nine feet tall!

As my feet left the tunnel floor, I was torn with indecision. If the being had cried out for help, I would have been forced to slit its throat to maintain silence. However, if it was capable of crying out, it chose not to. It also didn't slam me against the tunnel wall in an effort to kill me, or even dislodge me from its back.

With my knife still poised at the being's throat, I felt that I was still somewhat in command of the situation, even as precarious as it was. Despite this feeling of power that I possessed over the being, I had another feeling that was even harder to explain. As inexplicable as it seemed, I didn't sense that the creature intended to harm me, not intentionally, anyway. If the being had felt threatened by me, it could easily have killed or maimed me by simply backing up to the tunnel wall and crushing me. Fortunately, for me, the ceiling of the tunnel extended higher here than it did farther back, where I'd left the others, or the creature would have unwittingly smashed me against it. Instead, it remained quiet and passive, almost as though it were waiting for me to decide what my intentions were.

Finally, when it became clear that the next move was being left up to me, I relaxed my grip on its head and slowly lowered myself back down to the tunnel floor. Keeping my weapon poised in front of me, I watched in silence as it turned to face me.

"Loté," I whispered softly into the dark behind me.

The whole episode with the hairy being had lasted less than fifteen seconds, and since neither it nor I had made a sound, Loté was oblivious of what had just transpired.

"What is it?" she asked equally softly.

"You were going to kill me," came a deep, soft, slightly perplexed voice from somewhere high above my head.

"I am sorry," I answered quietly. "Really, I meant you no harm. I wanted only to ask some questions of you."

"To whom are you talking?" Loté asked nervously from where she stood beside me.

"I am Beif," said the being in response to her question.

"What are you doing here, Beif?" I asked of him.

"I come here to get away from those mean and nasty people in there," he answered innocently. "They are small like you. All they ever want to do is argue and kill each other."

"I rarely argue with others, and I never kill if I don't have to!" I angrily fired back. In a calmer tone, I continued, "It was a mistake of me to accost you the way that I did. I already said that I was sorry."

"The others in there," Loté said compassionately, "They are not like you, I take it? Physically or otherwise?"

"Oh no, they are bad," he said quickly. "They are the soulless ones. No, they are not like me, not at all!"

"How do you know they are soulless?" I asked, perplexed by his comment.

"Everyone knows that!" he said indignantly. "They don't like me because I am different from them; Beif don't like to kill."

"How many of them are there?" asked Loté, not bothering to keep her voice down any longer.

"There were more, but many are dead now."

"Because they killed each other?" I interjected.

"Some. But many just die."

"I don't understand. Why would they just die?" I asked, confused by his answer.

"Because they weren't complete enough, I think," he answered slowly. And then hurriedly added, "But some think they just die because they have no souls. I don't think that is true, though, I think it is because they weren't finished."

"Finished?" I repeated with growing excitement. "You mean they were removed from the incubators before they were finished recycling, don't you?" I asked, as understanding started clearing the haze from my mind.

"Yes, I think that is what they were called, incubators."

"Loté, I think we just found Jontue's army of clones," I said, not taking my attention from him. "Where are these others that you mentioned? Surely they are not just camping in this narrow little tunnel?"

"Oh no," he said laughingly. "There is a cavern up ahead on the left where the tunnel intersects another tunnel that leads off to the right. We have been using the tunnel to the right to go to a large lake where we get our water."

"That would be the tunnel up ahead that Lazzon mentioned," I thought aloud. "Have there been any journeys to the lake lately?" I asked, knowing his answer even as I considered the consequences of it; it explained the torch-bearing people that we'd seen in the cavern.

"No. We have been ordered to stay here and wait," he answered.

"Are you sure?" asked Loté, both baffled and confused by his response. She had been thinking the same thing that I had. Now, suddenly, we weren't any closer to explaining the people at the lake, or Keazar's bizarre behavior.

"Oh yes, I am very sure. Even the unruliest of them wouldn't directly disobey orders from the master," he answered in a voice that I knew couldn't tell a lie. It wasn't within his capacity to do so. There was an air of innocence beneath that furry hide that couldn't be silenced, despite whomevers' efforts.

"Who would your master be?" I asked next, not as confident of the answer that I expected, as I was earlier.

"We don't know, for sure," he answered apologetically. "No one has actually ever seen him. We only know that to disobey him means certain death."

"Surely, he must have a name," hissed Loté impatiently.

"Some call him Keazar, and yet others call just call him, 'The Master'."

"No!" Loté hissed emphatically. "I don't believe you! Keazar isn't capable of the atrocities that we've seen! And besides, Keazar is dead. He drowned in the lake."

"Loté," I said softly, deciding that the time had come for me to share my suspicions concerning the late Keazar with her. "We don't really know if that was the real Keazar that drowned in the lake or not."

"Of course that was the real Keazar!" she fired back, inflamed by my remark.

Even in the dark, I could sense her turning on me. She completely forgot Beif's existence for the moment, as she fought with the insinuation that I'd just made concerning the late Keazar.

"Loté," I said sternly, "I'm sorry that I didn't share my suspicions with you earlier regarding Keazar, or the strange way that he'd been acting just before he died. But I didn't want to say anything until I had proof. He was much too good a friend to do otherwise, and he deserved the benefit of the doubt. I promise you though, we'll discuss this later. It's probably time that everyone, including Linit, hears what I have to say."

"I'm sorry if I have offended," said the gentle giant humbly. "I only mean to speak the truth as I know it."

"You have not offended, Beif, it is I, who has offended," I softly reassured him before asking, "Would you care to join our small group? We are not many, but we all have souls and, more important, consciences."

"Are you serious? Do you really mean it?" he asked, both astonished and excited by the prospect.

"Yes, we are serious, and yes, we do mean it," I said evenly. "Of course, you will be required to follow our rules and help us in our quest. But yes, if you want, you may join us. By the way, Beif, this lovely voice with me is Loté and my name is Rod."

"I am pleased to meet you, Loté and Rod," he responded, barely able to control his delight.

"Do you have any personal possessions or supplies that you need to retrieve?" asked Loté, the anger in her voice temporarily subdued.

"No. We have nothing of our own except a weapon," he hesitated for a moment before going on. "But I don't feel comfortable with one, so I never took it."

"They never insisted that you arm yourself?" I asked incredulously.

"No. I guess they figured that because of my size, I could fight well enough without one," he replied, his voice tinged with discomfort and self-effacement.

"If you're certain that you don't need to go back for anything, then follow Loté back to where the others are waiting. It will give you a chance to meet the rest of our small band."

"Wait a minute! If I'm leading Beif back with me, just where do you think you're going?" Loté flared, her anger rising quickly to the surface.

"I'm going farther up the tunnel. Unless we plan to double back, we'll have to find a way past that army of mutants up ahead. The only way we can do that is if we know the layout."

"Then why don't you take Beif back while I go check it out?" she retorted hotly.

She had a good point, and I wasn't sure exactly how to respond to her. She was an excellent scout, and she knew how to take care of herself. To suggest otherwise would have been untrue, and yet...

"I can lead both of you, if you would like," offered Beif, sensing that an argument was about to ensue.

"How do we know that you won't betray us?" asked Loté, not sounding sincerely concerned that he would. Like me, she perceived the same honest goodness in him that I did.

"I trust you," he answered shyly.

"I say we let him lead us," I suggested with finality, not feeling a need to give the idea much thought when I considered the alternative. "But if anything goes wrong, you run to warn the others. No matter what happens, you have to promise me that you will."

"I couldn't just leave you, Rod, you know that," she said defensively.

"Promise me!"

"Okay! Okay, I promise," she said begrudgingly before adding, "But only if I'm sure there isn't anything that I can do for you. Then, and only then, I will run to warn the others."

"Fair enough," I replied, gladdened by the compassion she held in her voice for me. "Okay, Beif, lead on. But let me warn you, though I mean no hard feelings toward you, I will have my knife at your back every step of the way. If you make the slightest wrong move, or try to warn your comrades, believe me, I will not hesitate to impale you upon it."

"I swear. You can trust me. Nevertheless, if it makes you feel any better, I do not take offense by your actions. I understand that you do not know me very well, yet," he said understandingly. "Please, follow me. I will show you where the cavern is. From there, you can see the mouth of the tunnel that leads to the big water."

The trip to the cavern took longer than I had anticipated. Having come upon Beif where we had, I had assumed that the cavern wasn't very much farther. Beif, however, I had not misjudged. He was true to his word, silently leading us to the cavern. Stopping just short of the light that slanted outward from the cavern's brightly lit interior, we could hear many voices echoing within its hollow confines.

From our relatively safe position in the deeper shadows, I was unable to see the interior of the cavern, or the people responsible for the voices. I was, however, able to see the size of the opening. Stretching from the floor to the ceiling, which was all of twelve feet high at this point, the opening was easily three times that in width. My mind began to churn with ideas of how we were going to traverse such an expansive and well-lit space without being detected from within. To further complicate the problem was the fact that the junction of the intersecting tunnel was not directly across from the opening, as I had imagined it would be. Instead, it was almost fifty feet farther beyond the other end of the opening.

"Wait here," I whispered to Beif and Loté as I slipped along the left wall of the tunnel, avoiding the direct light.

If we were going to find a safe way to get past this cavern, and all the beings within it, it was imperative that I know the layout inside. Not only did I have to know how many soldiers there were, but also their armament and level of alertness.

Standing in the dim shadows just outside the opening, I was about to risk a quick look into the cavern when the sound of many approaching feet and much yelling came from farther down the tunnel. Quickly, I grabbed a look into the lighted interior before turning and running back into the darker depths where Beif and Loté were waiting. Because of the brighter light behind me, they could see me coming before I could see them. To prevent me from running into either them or the tunnel wall, Beif gently reached out and grabbed me beneath the armpits, easily lifting me off the ground and absorbing my momentum. Immediately, I stopped and relaxed, allowing Beif to quickly place me back on the tunnel floor.

My feet had no sooner made contact with the hard stone of the floor then I was turning to look back up the tunnel, rife with anticipation at the approaching sounds. At almost the same instant, soldiers bearing torches came pouring out of the mouth of the tunnel that led to the lake; and they were coming straight toward us!

"Quick, get down!" I hissed.

Loté knew instinctively what to do and was already on her belly, snuggling into the groove where the wall met the floor, and making herself as small as was humanly possible. Beif, on the other hand, was neither a soldier nor a warrior, nor had he ever been one in a prior life. Instead of taking evasive action to avoid detection, he just stood and looked on, watching the oncoming soldiers in silence. There was little chance that they wouldn't see him. But there was a chance that they would just assume that he had ventured out from the cavern and was now returning after having relieved himself.

That hope was instantly dashed as, without warning, Beif suddenly cried out to the approaching soldiers. I was instantly enraged as my first thoughts were of betrayal. My next train of thought, which never got the chance to fully develop, was to slit his throat! Then we would turn and run for our lives. Before I had an opportunity though, Beif started moving forward, toward the oncoming soldiers, and out of my reach. Silently, I cursed myself for having trusted him, and allowing him to lead Loté and me into this trap.

### **13**

Cautiously, I raised my head and looked up the tunnel toward the cavern. The approaching soldiers, now fully bathed in the light from the cavern and that of their own torches, were coming on fast. Pulling my knees up under my belly, I readied myself for a launch at Beif's back. The distance between us was growing rapidly, as he moved swiftly forward atop his long strides. I was rapidly running out of time. If I was going to catch him and kill him for the traitor that he was, I had to do it before he got too close to the advancing soldiers.

With my leg muscles clenched beneath me, eagerly anticipating the lunge that would carry me to Beif, I suddenly held myself in check. Still tensed and ready to spring, it was with a great amount of relief that I realized, Beif hadn't sold us out, after all. Instead of drawing their weapons and charging forward, the lead soldiers rushed excitedly into the cavern. They barely paused to acknowledge Beif, their anxiety at rejoining their comrades within the cavern, totally preoccupying their immediate thoughts.

Letting the tension in my legs relax momentarily, I knew instantly by the loud raucous their arrival set off within the cavern, why they were in such a hurry. The soldiers trailing behind the leaders quickly forgot that Beif even existed, the noise and yelling from within the cavern totally absorbing their attention, drawing them inward.

Upon reaching the edge of the opening, Beif stopped and waited until the last of the soldiers had passed through. Then, he briefly glanced back to where Loté and I were crouching in the darker shadows near the wall. The volume inside the cavern had risen to a horrendous level with the addition of the new soldiers, drowning out any noise that Loté or I might have made as we slowly stood and retreated farther from the entrance to the cavern. Luck had been with us so far and I didn't want to push it. Beif stood looking into the cavern for a moment longer, making sure that no one was coming back out. Then he nonchalantly turned away and casually strolled back to where Loté and I were waiting for him.

When he was within easy hearing, I asked if anyone else had managed to keep count of the incoming soldiers.

"I estimated their number to be close to two hundred," replied Loté softly.

"And there were at least twice that number already in the cavern," I offered.

"What else did you see in there?" asked Loté.

"Only that these are not soldiers in the truest sense of the word. Don't take offense, Beif, but that cavern has to have the largest collection of strange beings ever collected in one place."

"You mean..." Loté started, and then let her voice trail off as the realization of what I had seen dawned on her, leaving her speechless.

"Yes, exactly," I confirmed. "There may be thousands of mutants throughout this planet by now."

"We must get back and warn the others," she said anxiously, turning to go.

"Wait, there's more to this," I said conspiratorially, drawing her closer to me both mentally and physically. "We need to discuss something important, while Linit cannot hear us."

"I refuse to believe that Linit has anything to do with Keazar's betrayal! I haven't even convinced myself that Keazar was going to betray us," she said defensively.

"I'm not convinced of Linit's involvement either. But I am convinced that Keazar was up to no good. When I look back on everything that has happened, I think the big man was lying to us from the beginning."

Beif suddenly glanced at me, his hairy face showing the perplexity of our conversation, and why I felt that he had been lying to us about the number of clones.

"No, I'm sorry, Beif, I didn't mean you. When I referred to the big man, I was referring to Keazar," I quickly explained.

"Then, you mean that there were always more clones than what he told us there was?" Loté asked skeptically, not giving Beif a chance to ask any questions, as he watched us, not understanding what we were discussing.

"Exactly," I said emphatically in reply to Loté's question.

"Then we will just have to overcome the increased odds," she stated confidently, almost matter-of-factly. "Haven't we already increased the size of our lot?" she added, referring to the tall muscular man standing next to us, as well as Lazzon.

"Yes, we have," I agreed. "And we no longer have a traitor amongst us. I would say the odds have tipped in our favor. Come on, let's get back to the others, I'm sure Beif is just itching to meet them. But let me warn you, it's not going to be easy discussing this in front of Linit."

Without acknowledging my comment, Loté quickly turned and started back toward the others. With her leading the way, we quickly worked our way back through the tunnel. As we did, my thoughts kept returning to the sight that I had beheld in the cavern. It was such a gruesome sight, I wasn't sure that I could ever tell Loté the whole truth of it. Instead, I would make a mental note to spare her the gory details. Now, as we moved silently through the dark, my thoughts kept returning to the huge pile of decaying bodies that I had also seen at the far end of the cavern. But even worse, was the sight of the mutant beings, as they crawled over the pile of rotting flesh like a horde of maggots, foraging for internal organs and pieces of flesh that weren't too severely rotted to eat.

Even if time had permitted, I couldn't have looked into that cavern any longer than I had, or I would surely have vomited. For me to describe all the atrocities that I saw in that fraction of a second that I looked into the mouth of hell, I could pay for many fares on Lazzon's ferry.

One thing that hadn't occurred to me until just this moment, though, was that I hadn't seen anything to suggest that any of the creatures had been cloned from women. Even the soldiers that we watched enter the cavern, although not as abnormal as the beings that I had witnessed within, had all been cloned from men. Was it possible that all these defective creatures had been cloned from one host? As hard as I found it to believe, I knew deep in my gut that it was probably true.

As we neared the others, we could see the feeble light being cast from the small torch. The acrid smoke being emitted from it felt like a blessing compared to the rotten stench that we had left behind.

"We're back," said Loté as she neared them.

"What the hell did you bring back with you?" Wary asked incredulously, as he stood with his knife drawn, looking up at the tall man towering behind her.

Not only was this the first time for Wary and the others to get a look at Beif in the light of a torch, it was also the first time for Loté and me. Since we had only seen his silhouette, when he stood outlined back at the mouth of the cavern, it was with a bit of shock that we were seeing him now.

Besides his tremendous size, he was also covered with a light layer of thin black hair, approximately three inches in length. Beneath this layer of hair could be seen a well-sculpted body, heavily layered in thick, well-toned muscles. If not for his large, protruding lips, which had been forced to grow outward because of a second row of teeth, or the overly enlarged forehead protruding outward over his dark, sunken eyes, he would have made a very striking figure of a man.

Although the size of a man's forehead is no indication of his intelligence, there could be no doubt that with his genitalia hanging eighteen inches lower than his balls, he wouldn't need a sharp wit to win the ladies favor.

"This, everyone, is Beif," Loté eloquently proclaimed, after being taken aback for a moment when she first laid eyes on his manhood. And even while she continued introducing each of the members of our group by name, she furtively glanced below his waist, her eyes flitting nervously in the flickering torchlight.

When the introductions were over, I said, "I have invited Beif to join us. If anyone objects, let's hear it now or forever hold your tongue."

"If he's okay with you, he's okay with us," Wary easily agreed, as he continued studying the big man. "But let's get one thing straight right now; he leaves our women alone! We don't need another incident like the last."

The concern Wary had was legitimate. We both remembered how the women had reacted to Shaque, a creature that didn't even resemble a man, with but one exception. Where Beif was concerned, he not only resembled a man, he was a man. Although he didn't fully understand why we had the concerns involving him and the women that we did, he was quick to give his solemn promise that he wouldn't rut with any in our group.

With that settled, Loté and I shared our experiences with the others. It was shortly decided that, with Beif's help, we would attempt to sneak past the cavern. The alternative meant doubling back and losing days, maybe even weeks of precious time, while searching for a new route. Or, we attack the cloned soldiers, and hope to fight our way through their ranks.

Neither of the alternatives was given any serious consideration before deciding on the obvious plan of action. With Beif's help, we would sneak past the cavern, and continue on to the next recycling labs.

During the relating of events leading up to our return, I still hadn't seen any point in getting too explicit about what I had seen in the cavern. There was no doubt in my mind that the images would remain with me for a long time to come, but I didn't understand why Beif hadn't given any more details than he had. The only explanation that made any sense reaffirmed my estimation of his character; he was revolted by the activities that had taken place inside the cavern, much the same as I had been.

"Would you care for a weapon, Beif?" Linit asked of the huge man, stepping forward as she looked hungrily at his lower extremity before adding, "Or anything else?"

"Beif don't need weapons," he answered slowly and softly in his deep voice. And then, as if he finally understood the meaning of her last comment, he added equally softly, "Or anything else."

Fighting back a chuckle, we all noticed the expression of humiliation that came over her face by the subtle way that Beif had rejected her advances. If I had any previous doubts about letting him join us, they just vanished.

After everyone had repacked their gear and shouldered their packs, we formed a single file line behind Beif and quietly moved out. We marched forward, heading toward the cavern filled with the putrid essence of everything abhorrent and odious.

Following directly behind Beif, was first I, and then Loté. Wary was quick in offering to bring up the rear. Whether he did this out of bravery, since he knew that if trouble broke out, we would probably be separated, I highly doubted. Instead, I was sure that his motive was just to keep Brae as far from Beif as he could without being too obvious about his intentions.

However, whatever his reasons, I was glad that he volunteered. I couldn't think of a more able person to be guarding our flank.

When we reached the lighter shadows cascading outward from the cavern, Beif suddenly stopped and crouched down beside me. We had reached the point where going farther meant crossing an area of more than sixty feet, almost forty of which was open to the interior of the cavern and all within it.

"Wait here," he whispered softly. "I just remembered something."

Before I could question him, he stood up and casually sauntered toward the opening of the cavern. Without hesitating, he turned left and strolled in, disappearing from sight.

Relief flooded through me as I realized there wasn't any change in the drone of voices radiating out of the cavern. Turning back to face the others, I signaled them to stay low and wait. Although they were less than two feet behind me, I was unable to see them crouching in the dark. Despite my inability to see them, they could see my outline against the light as well as I had seen Beif's.

When he didn't return immediately, I began to think that something might have happened to him. As my patience grew thin, I started entertaining thoughts of sneaking up to the opening and looking inside. If it turned out that he was in some kind of trouble, there wouldn't be much that I could do to help him. However, at least we wouldn't be sitting here waiting for naught, or worse.

I was about to tell Loté of my plan, sure that she would protest against it, when he suddenly re-emerged. He wasn't alone. Following close behind him was the silhouette of a shorter, thinner, person. Despite the new person's smaller stature in comparison to Beif's, he was still considerably taller than even I was.

As the two of them drew closer, it became apparent that Beif was carrying a large bundle under his right arm. Suddenly aware of shuffling noises coming from the dark behind me, I raised an arm against the light, making a gesture that the others could see against the light and easily recognize.

Immediately, the noise behind me stopped, as they saw my signal and held their ground, trusting in my decision to remain in position. We were clearly at Beif's mercy, and although I didn't like the idea that he had invited someone else to join us, I decided to keep my faith in him and hear him out.

As Beif and his companion drew closer, they suddenly crouched down low, low for Beif, anyway, and hurried the last few yards until they were well into the shadows.

Turning in my crouched position as they passed, I was forced to lean up hard against the wall of the tunnel to make room. Stopping as soon as they were past me, they turned to look back toward the light and see if they had been noticed or pursued. Satisfied that neither had happened, Beif turned his attention to me.

"Rod, I would like you to meet a friend of mine," he said in his soft, deep drawl. "His name is Krat. Krat, this is Rod."

"Pleasure, I'm sure," I said stiffly. "But let's dispense with the introductions until a more appropriate time, if you don't mind."

"Sure, Rod," he replied meekly. Krat, his companion, didn't say a word, but instead only grunted in acknowledgment. Then, as if to redeem himself, he hurriedly brought out the item from beneath his arm, and excitedly added, "Look what we brought!"

"What is it?" I asked, my curiosity now piqued as he got to his feet and began to unfold a large, rank smelling old blanket.

"It is your cover," he said joyously, almost unable to control his excitement.

"You better explain yourself, Beif, because I'm not following you," I said a bit shortly, still irked at the fact that he had invited someone to join us without first clearing it through me.

"Well," he started, "I knew that you and your people couldn't possibly be carrying enough food to satisfy an appetite like mine, so, first off, I decided that I better get some supplies of my own. When I was in there, putting a bag of food together, I ran into Krat. Krat's all right, you can trust him," he added matter-of-factly. "Anyway, he asked me what I was doing with the food, so I told him. Then," he hesitated to catch his breath. "One thing led to another, and here we are."

"You still haven't explained what the dirty old rag is for," I said patiently.

"It's your cover!" he said, his excitement suddenly bubbling back to the surface. And then, in a more serious tone, he said, "I can't take all the credit, though, because it's really Krat's idea. However, allow me to explain it to you. This is how it's going to work."

He went on to explain that he and Krat would carry the tattered old blanket loosely between them as they walked past the opening to the cavern. All we had to do was keep the same pace as him and Krat, casually walking along behind it. He explained all this as if he were a small child getting ready to pull a prank on an adult. Unable to come up with anything better, I gave him and Krat credit for their idea while privately deciding to go along with it. Their joy at receiving a compliment was undeniable. If it weren't for the fact that they were the ones to come up with a plan, I would have considered them both a little slow. Good hearted, yes, but a little slow, nonetheless. Then again, they were the ones to come up with the only feasible idea, as of yet, so just maybe, we were the slow ones.

Their plan worked out even better than I could have hoped. Not only were the inhabitants of the cavern unable to see us behind the tarp, but we also, could not see into the cavern.

When we were well past the opening and again shrouded in semi-darkness, Beif and Krat dropped the dirty blanket and broke out laughing.

"Quiet!" I hissed sternly.

It was impossible to see either of them very clearly in the shadows, but I knew by the silence that followed, I had just bruised some tender feelings. I wanted to apologize, but it would have to wait until we reached a safer section of tunnel. For the moment, I decided that it would be better for all of us if Beif and Krat were to remain a little humiliated; at least they would remain quiet in their chagrined state until we managed to get out of this section of tunnel. We were directly between the cavern and the intersection with the tunnel that led from the lake. With each beat of my heart, I knew the odds were increasing that soldiers could come along at any moment. The sooner that we got past the intersection, the better I would feel.

This section of the tunnel was considerably wider and taller than the section that led us here. Even Beif could stand erect in this tunnel without fear of hitting his head. Whispering, I suggested that they leave the blanket near the wall and to fall in behind me. Before I had even finished speaking, I took off running in the opposite direction of the cavern.

It was impossible to see more than a few feet in front of my face, and even this distance was rapidly diminishing as we drew farther away from the light coming from the cavern. Nevertheless, the risk was worth it, even if all it meant was spending one less second in this dangerous section of tunnel; the others, excluding Beif and Krat, had no idea of what lay within the cavern, and I didn't intend for them to know.

We were almost to the intersection, and relative safety, when the unmistakable glow of a torch appeared in the mouth of the tunnel leading to the lake. Without having to see the source of the light, I knew with a sinking feeling that these would be the stragglers from the force that had just previously returned to the cavern. It was too late to turn back. We were fifteen feet from the mouth of the tunnel and running hard at it when a short, squat being emerged.

His mouth fell open with surprise as he abruptly stopped in his tracks at the sight of us bearing down on him. The next being in line behind him, who was carrying the torch, had not yet seen us. For a brief moment, drawing my weapon as the gap rapidly closed between us, I fancied with the idea that, just maybe, there wouldn't be very many stragglers. Maybe, if we were lucky, and with the element of surprise on our side, we could overpower them before they could react. And if we're really lucky, we'll overpower them before they get a chance to warn the others of our presence.

What I hadn't counted on were Beif's super-fast reflexes and his instant understanding of what needed to be done. Using his long strides and animal quickness, he quickly lunged past me. Picking up the short, squat being by the head and crotch, he flung him back down the tunnel from which he had just emerged.

Even without seeing into the opening, I knew the being that Beif had sent flying, struck the torchbearer, sending the light flickering sporadically away from the mouth of the tunnel. Before it diminished entirely, though, I saw another tunnel leading off to the left, directly opposite the one that led to the lake on the right.

After releasing the being, Beif quickly moved into the mouth of the tunnel, his tremendous bulk completely diminishing the weak light. Standing in his shadow, I realized that we couldn't continue straight ahead, and made a split-second decision to alter our course by following the tunnel to the left. Not having the slightest idea where this new path would take us, I did know that Keazar had put us on the path that we were following. If my suspicions of Keazar were correct, evil forces would be waiting up ahead to ambush us. It had only been good fortune thus far that had allowed us to foil the evil forces on more than one occasion already. Once, when we met Lazzon, and again when we met Beif. Our luck wouldn't hold out forever. It was time that we took control of our own destiny.

Turning to Loté, who was directly behind me, I whispered, "To the left."

Beif stopped just inside the opening to the right, blocking any view that the stragglers might otherwise have of us. Meanwhile, I directed the last of our group into the deeper darkness of the tunnel leading to the left. When Wary, who was bringing up the rear, had disappeared from sight, I turned back to let Beif know where we were heading. It had never occurred to me that a being of his size would have any need of assistance. But like a true friend, Krat followed him bravely into the tunnel. Together, they were standing shoulder to shoulder, confronting the attacking force of stragglers.

The torch remained on the floor of the tunnel where it had landed after being knocked from its bearer's hands, sputtering and smoking as the fuel in the handle spilt out in an ever-growing pool.

In the weak, flickering light, I could see another dark pool of oil. This one was quickly growing between the feet of Krat, as he struggled silently to remove a short spear from the side of his torso. Any normal man would have been crying out in pain and agony. But Krat was so quiet about his wound that I don't think Beif was even aware that his friend had been injured, much less, dying.

There were a growing number of dead and dying mutant soldiers as Beif was quickly dispatching of them. With his powerful arms and hands, he was literally able to crush a man's throat between his massive fingers, while simultaneously lifting him into the air, and flinging him into the oncoming rush.

While I stood and watched in awe at the display of inhuman strength and destruction, the advancing soldiers quickly lost their momentum and desire in the face of such a disparate foe. As they turned to retreat, Beif, his hair matted with sweat and the blood of his enemies, quickly gave chase, catching the few survivors as he easily overtook them with his colossal strides. Only after he had dispatched with the last of the stragglers, did he divert his attention to his fallen friend, Krat.

In that briefest of moments, I was immediately taken aback by the lust in his eyes, and the erection of his gargantuan penis, as he looked in my direction, and then raced to Krat's side. It was a look that I wouldn't forget. The savage killing and mutilation of the enemy forces had aroused a bloodthirsty hunger within him, evident in both, his hungry eyes, and solid erection.

It was too late to help Krat. Although he had managed to remove the spear from his side, he was already slipping into unconsciousness from a loss of blood. Beif fell to his knees beside his fallen friend and gently took his head in his huge hands. He looked up at me as I moved closer to him. The look of fire and lust in his eyes had been replaced with one of profound sadness. My heart ached for his loss. Kneeling down beside him, I considered the possibility of recycling Krat's body. The last thing that I wanted to do was give Beif false hope for his friend. But in the heat of the moment, I was thinking only of consoling him.

Suddenly, the spilt fuel from the torch ignited. A wall of fire erupted, separating us from the mouth of the tunnel. As sorry as I was feeling for Beif, I suddenly realized that I couldn't tell him. The fire would surely bring a curious being from the cavern that would in turn discover the bodies of its dead comrades. One thing would lead to another, and within minutes, we would have several hundred mutant soldiers hunting for us. To bring his body with us now would only create an added risk to the rest of the group. It was a risk that, for their sake, I could not take.

With a spurt of inspiration, it suddenly dawned on me that, if we could get out of sight before being discovered, the mutants from the cavern might just assume that Krat had been alone. For whatever reason, he had gotten into a fight, and everyone had ended up killing each other. And if they didn't jump to that conclusion, it was likely that their search, if they mounted one, would lead toward the lake. Meanwhile, we would actually be putting distance between this place and us, in the opposite direction. Even now, as I looked down the tunnel, there was the illusion that whatever had attacked these soldiers had headed in the direction of the lake.

"Come, quick!" I yelled over the roar of the flames. "We don't have any time to lose before more soldiers arrive!"

"Let them come, and I will kill them too!" he cried out, the deadly fire returning to his eyes.

He had gone from feeling blood lust, to remorse, to anger, all within a matter of a few seconds. At any moment, the fire would draw the attention of the soldiers in the cavern. To make a clean getaway, we needed to be across the intersection and into the darkness of the other tunnel before they emerged from the cavern. Torn between my loyalty for Beif and my own survival, I knew my best bet was to abandon him. He could occupy the mutant soldiers until he was killed, giving me plenty of time to secure a safe lead. Surely, it would be assumed that he and Krat had just reached the point where they couldn't refrain from killing any longer. This had to be a common failing among the mutant soldiers, if witnessing the rotting mountain of corpses in the cavern, were any indication.

Nevertheless, I couldn't just abandon him; he was now a friend of ours, and as thus, he deserved better.

"Beif, listen to me," I said slowly and deliberately. "If we don't rejoin the others now, we will have the whole of the cavern coming down on us. I know you're angry, but you will have many more opportunities to seek your revenge in the future. Right now, we must leave so that we may fight another day."

He stood to his full height and looked down at me with the fire of his anger showing plainly in his eyes. As he stood there, breathing hard, his eyes softened, turning smoky. Slowly, all I could see was the reflection of the fire at my back.

"Yes," he said finally, his voice full of resignation. "We will fight another day."

Taking two large steps toward me, he reached under my arms and lifted me above his head. Before I knew what he was doing, we were through the fire and across the intersection. Twisting in his grasp as we crossed over to the other tunnel so that I could catch a quick glance toward the mouth of the cavern, I was relieved to see that no one had yet emerged. We had gone unnoticed!

Dropping me to the floor as he abruptly stopped several feet inside the mouth of the tunnel, I landed heavily on the balls of my feet. Luckily for Beif, he had crouched as he entered or his head would have connected with the solid rock of the ceiling. Without a word, I started cautiously down the tunnel, Beif following closely behind. We hadn't gone far, when I heard Wary's voice from out of the darkness ahead.

"We're right ahead of you, Rod," he said, his voice betraying a mixture of joy and relief at our arrival. "When we saw the ball of fire, we were sure, you were dead."

"Krat didn't make it," I said quickly, not waiting for the question. "Thanks only to Beif, here, did I."

"Thanks to Beif, we all did," added Wary. "We owe him our lives."

I knew Beif was grieving over the loss of Krat. I also knew him well enough, despite the short time that we'd been together, to know that this praise of his bravery was going a long way toward easing his grief. Even in the dark, I could sense his unease from the compliments, as I heard the unmistakable evidence of fidgeting. If a torch had been lit, we probably would have noticed that he was also blushing.

From the mouth of the tunnel, we could hear the distant sound of voices yelling and screaming; they had already discovered the dead soldiers.

We still had no idea where this tunnel would lead, but it was too late to change our minds now. And since there was no turning back, we needed to put as much distance between the mutant soldiers and us as fast as possible. If we were lucky, they wouldn't even think of searching this tunnel. But if we weren't, they could be upon us at any moment.

"Wary, you lead," I said quickly, noting how Wary didn't hesitate, but instead took off down the tunnel with Brae directly behind him.

The fire from across the intersection was burning down as the fuel was being consumed. There wasn't any indication yet that the soldiers had even considered searching this tunnel, but there wasn't any point in us hanging around to see if they would or not.

"Do you have any idea where this tunnel leads?" I asked of Beif as we fell in at the rear of our single file group.

The tunnel leading to the lake was wide enough for three men to march abreast. It was also high enough that a being the size of Beif didn't find it necessary to hunch forward. But this tunnel wasn't any larger than the one that had led us from the lake to the cavern. In no time, I knew Beif would assuredly develop cramps from the extreme curvature placed on his spine.

"Except for the few times that I have used it to find solace, and then, I never went more than a few feet beyond the entrance, I have never explored it," he replied softly.

"Then I guess, my friend, we will discover where it leads together."

### **14**

"You will pay for this, you traitor! No one is stupid enough to fall for those poor imitations of me!" the prisoner cried out at his captor's back before the solid white door could slide completely shut, effectively shutting him off from view.

Two lab technicians remained behind, ignoring his cries of pain and anger as they uncaringly cut tissue samples from the bloody stumps that had once been his legs. The tissue samples they were extracting would eventually wind up in incubators to grow more Keazar clones.

Since his betrayal and subsequent capture by his long time friend and associate, Jontue, the lab technicians had been gleaning tissue samples from his porcine body on an hourly basis. Despite the lack of pain relief they supplied him, his tortured mind wondered why they required so many cultures of his flesh when they had so few incubators available. Even in his tortured state, delirious with pain, he reasoned that Jontue had discovered a new means of growing clones. He had been on the cutting edge, himself, of developing a method that would have cut cloning times by nearly one thousand percent. Unfortunately, he hadn't made any progress with regard to a clone's demented behavior; he had been unsuccessful at teaching the clones humility and morals of an acceptable level so that they could function within society's boundaries.

As unlikely as it seemed that Jontue had made the breakthrough, the thought still piqued his interest for what it would mean in terms of recycling a human body. If there was one thing that Keazar couldn't be accused of, it was a lack of curiosity. Despite his pain and delirium, he couldn't help but be fascinated by the thought that cloning had progressed beyond his own trials. The humanitarian ramifications of such a breakthrough would be enormous. This was especially true if one considered all the recent death and destruction that had taken place in the holocaust.

He couldn't be sure, since he had never been allowed outside of the small white cubicle that they had him restrained in, but he suspected that Jontue had gone beyond perfecting the cloning process. Just based on the small amounts of tissue that they gleaned from him each time they visited his little cubicle, and continued gleaning from his emaciated body, he realized that Jontue must have reduced the raw materials required for the process significantly. Even though he had assigned himself to the fact that they were manufacturing a substantial number of clones from him, he was still elated by the very idea that cloning was moving ahead.

The bed they had him restrained in was very similar to an incubator with the clear glass top removed. He knew this was the case, since he was, after all, the original designer of the incubator, and thus knew the construction of one intimately.

He was unsure of how much time had passed since his capture, because they had drugged him shortly thereafter. They had then transported him in this drugged state, only purging the drugs from his body just before they started taking tissue cultures. Even the time that had passed since he had regained consciousness had done so in a blur. However, he was a native to the blissful darkness that filled the space beneath the planet's surface. As such, he had an inborn sense of time that did not rely on outside stimuli. Trusting in his instincts now, he was sure that more than two weeks earth-time had passed since he awoke and found himself confined here.

The lab technicians finished their tissue retrieval and abruptly left, the door sliding cleanly shut behind them. In their absence, he lay motionless while staring up at the recessed lights in the ceiling, knowing the lab technicians would be back within an hour. He wondered, as he had so often before, where he was and what was happening to his friends, the ones that hadn't betrayed him. He knew they were in danger. They were the only threat that could prevent Jontue from realizing his dreams. They alone were the planet's last defense against the madman and other tyrants like him.

He also knew that Jontue didn't need clones of him for any other purpose than to trick his friends. If Jontue were interested only in creating an army, he would not have selected clones from such an obese and unfit character as himself. More likely, he would have selected strong, virile men with exceptional physical attributes in which to populate his army.

The more his thoughts went down that road, though, the more concerned he grew for the welfare of his friends. He needed only one look at his butchered and mutilated body to know that Jontue had become capable of any atrocity in his quest for power. If he could literally fillet the flesh off the bones of a longtime friend, like himself, and not even feel compassion enough to supply painkillers, there was no telling what he would do if he caught the others.

Thinking back on how long he had known the man, he began to wonder why Jontue had picked this specific time to launch his bid for dictatorship. The only conclusion that made any sense suggested that it was nothing more than an opportunistic move on his part. Jontue was just taking advantage of the tumultuous times that were a direct result of the power plants malfunctioning, triggering holocaustic destruction and confusion everywhere. In the ensuing chaos, when so many lives were in upheaval, he decided that the time had come for him to become the ultimate dictator of Heälf.

Yet, despite taking advantage of the events at the time, it didn't lessen the fact that he had been preparing for his takeover for many months in advance, possibly even years! It was galling to believe that Jontue hadn't entered the tunnels in search of him for the reasons that he gave. But rather, because he was afraid that he might lose Keazar's body in the massive devastation. All the while that he was leading them to safety, and eventually back to the lab, pretending to be their friend, he was secretly planning to capture Keazar and kill the others.

When Keazar considered this, he also worried that since he had been captured, was it possible that his friends had also met their demise at Jontue's hands.

When Keazar wasn't worrying over the fate of his friends, he was racking his brains, trying to find the clue to Jontue's behavior. That he had been planning this for some time, there could be no doubt. This was the type of plan that took years of scheming and preparations. In all that time, there must have been something that he overlooked. There must have been some small, insignificant changes in his friend's personality that should have warned him. But no matter how long he thought on it, nothing came to mind.

He simply could not remember Jontue ever having such power-hungry urges. Not in all the centuries that he had known him, had he ever displayed anything that resembled a desire for power. It was so hard to believe. Especially, since he thought that he had known him so well.

The two lab technicians returned with their tray of instruments.

"Where am I?" he asked, doing his best not to show his anger at them.

He had learned during earlier sessions with them that if he berated them, it only provoked them into inflicting more pain as they went silently about their business of removing more tissue for the cloning process.

"Do either of you have a voice?" he tenderly pressed forward when they ignored his question. It was becoming more difficult by the minute for him to keep his anger in check, but the consequences of letting go were far worse.

Arching his back up, he feebly attempted to break the bonds that held his wrists to the sides of the bed. As he did so, he caught one of the lab technicians quickly looking away to avoid making eye contact with him. For just the briefest of moments, he thought he glimpsed a spark of pity in the man's eyes.

"Help me," he begged of the man, fighting back the tears of hopelessness. "Please, you must help me."

With cruelty that most men were incapable of, the technician that was busy cutting out tissue with a scalpel-like instrument, responded to his pitying pleas with a brutal jab of the instrument to the fleshy part of his upper right thigh. Despite the already overwhelming degree of pain, Keazar felt the cold steel of the blade penetrating his bruised flesh. This sensation was followed immediately by one of extreme pain. Unable to hold it in, he cried out in agony and despair, squeezing his eyes shut to the world.

At some point after being stabbed, he must have blacked out. He couldn't be sure, but he estimated that he had been unconscious for at least ten minutes. In that time, the technicians had finished their work and left. His was only vaguely aware that his breath was coming in short, choppy gasps, while his heart hammered violently within his chest. He felt weak, nauseated, on the verge of passing out again, when he was suddenly aware of another sensation. This was unlike the wave of pain that kept washing against his brain, numbing out most of his other sensations. Slowly working its way up his back, he could feel warmth. But it wasn't one of heat; it was more like warm, tepid water. With growing despair, it sluggishly dawned on him that the cruel technician, in his attempt to inflict pain on him, had severed his femoral artery.

This revelation brought on a new train of thought, and a new set of questions. Did the technician sever his artery as a final act of contrition, a mercy killing? Or had the technician simply underestimated the amount of damage he did when he reacted out of anger and impatience?

Either way, this was it. This was how he was going to die. Of course, he wasn't afraid of dying. Especially since Jontue was busy making more clones of him. In fact, this might just be his best opportunity to escape. If his soul found one of the new clones that were being grown from his tissues, it would automatically inhabit it. And the best part of which meant that Jontue would never know which one of him was the real one. Suddenly, he felt like laughing. Without even realizing it, Jontue was outsmarting himself! Although Jontue still had the remaining tissue to use for more clones, he had no idea where the real Keazar was.

Just then, the lab technician that he had suspected of pitying him, returned. The lights began to fade as he silently watched the technician's body grow indistinct against the backdrop of the open door. He had no doubt that within minutes he would be unconscious from a lack of blood. It wouldn't be but a few minutes after that, and he would be gone, out from under Jontue's grasp. From experience, he knew that this was the best way to die. There was no pain, no agony, just blissful rest, which was followed immediately by peace and quiet. From a far off distance, he was semi-aware of the lab technician as he turned and ran out the door, all the while yelling something that was unintelligible to Keazar's ears. But Keazar didn't care. He didn't have a care in the world, anymore, as the sweet darkness engulfed him.

Before he was even aware that he had died, he was coming awake in another incubator, this one complete with the glass cover still intact. His first conscious thought was of the freedom of movement; his wrists were no longer bound. He felt elated; by sheer luck and patience, he had managed to outwit and escape Jontue's grasp.

Slowly, with much caution, he raised his head just enough so that he could look around in the lab that he found himself. Immediately, he recognized that he was being resuscitated in one of his existing labs. If Jontue had secretly constructed other labs without his knowledge, he was not in one. Breathing a large sigh of relief, he noted that there wasn't anything to suggest anything out of the ordinary. It would tap his patience, he knew, but he would have to wait for the right opportunity to escape. Meanwhile, he would play along as though he were nothing more than another clone.

Absently, he wondered how long he had been in the capsule. Despite feeling as though he had just slipped into oblivion, he knew that if he had been cloned from the samples the technicians had been taking from him, it could have been as long as a year. Unless, of course, the body in which he found himself had been on the verge of being resuscitated when his spirit found it. In that case, he might have been in a state of limbo for as short as a millisecond.

As he pondered these possibilities, several technicians entered. Brusquely, and with no finesse, they started working their way along the rows of incubators. Quickly, as they moved along, they threw open the glass covers and removed the wires and tubes connected to the occupants within. While keeping an eye on their approaching progress, it was with a sharper interest that he studied the first inhabitants to climb out of the capsules nearer to him. With interest, he noted that they climbed out under their own power with no help whatsoever from the lab technicians.

He was surprised by this total lack of concern for the new beings, even if they were just clones. However, it also meant that he wouldn't be under very close scrutiny, either.

With his cover opened and the connections to his new body severed, he cautiously worked his new limbs before climbing out of the capsule. Being careful not to draw any undue attention to himself, he emulated the other clones and how they were behaving, all of which looked strikingly familiar. There was no doubt in his mind that the cloning process had been greatly improved upon since he last attempted it.

Before the last of the incubator's occupants had fully climbed out of their respective capsules, lab technicians were already entering with fresh tissue cultures. Roughly pushing the new and unsteady clones out of their way, they hurriedly began setting up the capsules for the next batch. The speed with which they worked didn't escape his scrutinizing eye. Watching in fascination at their thriftiness, it was with a feeling of utter disappointment that he allowed several soldiers to herd him along with the other clones.

As he was shuffled along, trying to match his pace with the others, some of which were exhibiting mutant traits from flaws still inherent in the cloning process, he felt a desire and need to check himself over. He was extremely curious to see if he displayed any of the more obvious abnormalities that he could blatantly see on several of the others. However, he resisted the urge, refraining himself from doing so. The clones, of which he had been their host, were oblivious of their features, whether they were normal or otherwise, because they didn't know any different.

They were quickly herded, rather than led, down the hallway connecting the lab with the main cavern. At every turn, he knew what to expect. He knew the layout of this facility well because he had designed the original recycling center complex. Consequently, all future centers built, had been mirror images of the first. Complete, from the two labs at each end of the great cavern, right down to the private facilities; the entire complexes were identical to the smallest detail.

His eagerness to escape was growing by the minute as the familiarity of the surroundings buoyed his hopes. With so many clones that so closely resembled him, he knew there wasn't any chance of Jontue ever singling him out. Of course, there was always the possibility that Jontue might decide to have all the 'Keazar' clones eliminated. However, he trusted that Jontue wouldn't resort to such drastic measures except as a last resort. Jontue still needed the 'Keazar' clones until all of Keazar's friends, especially Captain Rodick's group of loyal followers, were captured or killed.

As they entered the large cavern, he couldn't believe his eyes. Already there were more beings in the great hall than it had been fashioned to hold. Letting his eyes rove over the mass of mutant flesh, he began to pick out individual characters to study their distinguishing characteristics. Slowly, he realized that he was confronting a gross atrocity on mankind. And with the realization, came a growing sickness from deep within the pit of his stomach, causing it to rise and burn within his throat. Yet, as he glanced nervously about, he realized that he couldn't vomit now; such an act would single him out from the other new arrivals.

Turning slowly, suddenly self-conscious of his every move, he looked around at the clones that he'd arrived with. With mounting despair, he noticed their nonchalant attitudes, none of which was even batting an eye at the scene before them.

Looking in the direction of the fountain, and the subsequent pool of water that was usually beneath it, he steeled himself for the journey to it. Pushing and squeezing past creatures that he found so repugnant that he had to close his eyes and hold his breath, he finally reached the edge of the pool. With longing, he gaped down at it. Recyclees always awoke with a dire thirst, and he was no different.

And so it was that he leaned over the edge of the pool to slake his thirst and came face to face with a badly decomposed head staring blankly back up at him. Unnerved, he quickly glanced away, trying desperately to find a safe haven for his eyes to focus on before his tossing stomach regurgitated.

In dire need of sitting down, but unable to do so because of the overcrowding, he fought his way forcefully through the dense and maddening crowd, putting as much distance between himself and the pool as quickly as possible. Everywhere he looked, he saw a grayish, puffy face with dead eyes; a face that looked strikingly similar to his own. He had come within mere inches of the glassy eyes before realizing that it was not his reflection in the water. Where the rest of the body that belonged to the poor devil in the water was, he didn't even want to consider.

Finally, with much determination, he cleared his mind of everything except his plan to escape. His drink of water would have to wait for a while longer.

Turning his attention in the direction of the main entrance, he noticed that soldiers had been placed there to keep the clones within. He noted also that they were heavily armed. Each was bearing, in addition to his breast-plated armor, a standard issue knife, a long-knife, and a short spear. The floor sloped up to the main entrance, placing the soldiers above the rest of the cavern's occupants. However, it was still impossible to tell from this distance if they were clones, or bona fide soldiers. If they turned out to be clones, which he felt fairly certain that they weren't, they at least did not resemble him in any distinguishable way.

Anxiously, he continued his visual inspection of the cavern. Slowly, he turned so that he could see to his extreme left, past the pool of tainted water, and beyond the door that led to the fecal holes. With a severe jolt, he suddenly realized what he was seeing. Piled high against the far wall was an ever-growing mound of dead and decaying corpses. Some, despite their advanced decomposition, were clearly failed cloning attempts. However, many others were even more obviously murder victims. Among the failures on the rancid pile of decaying flesh, as well as many that were shuffling around the crowded cavern, could be seen varying stages and degrees of physical retardation.

What bothered him even more than their physical defects, which he openly recognized, were their mental and metaphysical attributes. These were the things that couldn't be seen with the naked eye. And because they lacked souls, they also harbored no morals, ethics, or any of the basic components known to comprise a conscience. That meant that besides having to watch out for Jontue and his cronies, he would also have to watch out for any and all clones.

Slowly working his way outward from the pool, he decided to put a solid wall at his back for protection. Milling through the crowd, shuffling along in the style prevalent among the majority of clones, he worked his way toward first one and then another entrance. He was disappointed to discover that they were all equally heavily guarded by well-armed soldiers. He further noted that these soldiers resembled each other only in brawn and weaponry. This led him to wonder where and how Jontue had recruited them.

Barely an hour had passed before another group of clones, which also closely resembled him, were herded into the already overcrowded cavern. Their arrival incited many small fights throughout the cavern, as they jockeyed with the earlier arrivals for the limited space. Even as he watched in horror, he recognized the naked savagery harbored in the soulless beings. He could see it all too clearly by the way the victors mutilated their victims. Even the bystanders couldn't control their enthusiasm, and would quickly join in the frenzy with a relish of equal intensity.

Despite the abominations going on around him, he was faced with the demoralizing reality that Jontue had discovered the secret of making physically more accurate clones than he had been able to.

But even that reality paled in comparison to the accelerated timetable that he had achieved. Glancing around at the clones that were here when he had arrived, he quickly deduced that his stay here in the cavern was probably going to last less than two days. It was a rough guesstimate at best, based not only on the steady influx of clones that were arriving hourly, but also on the total number of clones the cavern could hold.

Resignedly, he decided to sit tight and keep his eyes open for an opportunity to escape. However, he knew his best chance to escape would come when they moved them.

The dryness in his throat was growing worse by the hour. Due to the overcrowding of the cavern, the stench of decaying flesh and fecal matter began to combine with the cloying air. With increasing rapidity, it was becoming harder to breathe. This was not just an idle complaint, aggravated by his incessantly worse throat. But indeed, several of the earlier arrivals had already fallen and died, due to their defective lungs being unable to process enough oxygen from the contaminated air to maintain life. With a diminishing curiosity, he noted that there were several different clones moving silently through the huddled mass of standing bodies. Diligently, they were retrieving the dead and dying, and depositing them unceremoniously on the growing mountain of rotting flesh. That these scavenger clones weren't related to him, he had no doubts.

Just when he thought he couldn't breathe through his parched throat any longer, several more soldiers appeared at the main entrance. Like the others, they also wore breastplates that bore Lord Balzar's insignia. Immediately, they began flailing their long-knives high above their heads, trying to instill fear into their charges. Studying the soldiers and their actions, Keazar quickly determined that the soldiers were wearing the armor only for the protection it afforded them, and not to signify any allegiance to Lord Balzar.

Unable to enter the cavern beyond the actual opening, due to the proximity to each other the clones were being forced to stand, the newly arrived soldiers began yelling from where they stood, trying hard to be heard. Fortunately, for them, only the nearer clones needed to hear them and react before the others knew what was happening. As an added incentive to insure that the clones would obey them without having to resort to killing any more than absolutely necessary, the soldiers promised that they would receive food and water when they reached their new destination.

Something told Keazar that this was nothing more than a ploy to elicit their cooperation. If indeed, the soldiers were planning to feed and water them, it was much more likely that they would have done it right here, in the great hall. He was all too familiar with the layout of the area immediately surrounding each recycling facility. This knowledge alone made his unease grow at the soldier's promise of relief. It didn't take a logistics expert to calculate the tremendous amount of food it would take to feed all these hungry bellies. If his abbreviated knowledge of Jontue's new cloning technique were to be trusted, he figured that it would be easier to use the bodies while they lived, and replace them with new clones as they died.

As the soldiers retreated through the opening, the clones quickly started jockeying and fighting to get to the front of the procession. Instinctively, he hung back, knowing that those up front would be the first to experience what the soldiers had in mind for all of them. As the clones behind him began to thin out, his thoughts turned to the prospects of what the soldier's intentions truly were. It was then that the idea came to him; Jontue needed more bodies to help in a search for his friends.

It was just possible that with so many tunnels still intact, Rod and the others had escaped and were on the run. Jontue had probably expected them to be captured before they had a chance to escape into the tunnels. Now that they were loose and on the run, it was probably with great disappointment that he discovered he didn't have enough people to cover all the possible escape routes.

"Of course!" he thought to himself with glee and mounting optimism. "That explains why he's turning out so many clones when there are so few to fight against; he needs feet and eyes to do his searching."

With that in mind, he determined that he needed to think like Rod, and try to figure out where he would attempt to go while letting the soldiers herd him into the tunnel. The logical thing would be for all of them to try to escape to the surface of the planet. However, that would be too much like a shirking of responsibility for Rod to even consider. Rod had too much pride to even acknowledge such thoughts. But more importantly, Rod felt that he was responsible for restoring the hierarchy of Heälf. He would never run and hide as long as there was someone oppressing the rights of the less fortunate.

No, it would be more like Rod and his faithful friends to go straight toward the source of the oppression. In this case, that would be Jontue. Of course, it was also a possibility that they may have realized by now that he has been abducted. They might even be searching for him at this very moment. But as much as it buoyed his spirits to consider the possibility, he knew the unlikely reality of it. In his eyes, he was sure his friendship wasn't that valuable to them. In addition, and this was the most likely prospect, they were oblivious of his plight because Jontue had a clone filling in for him. Even as he lives and breathes here, waiting to see where he is going to be taken, his friends could be unaware that they are traveling with a clone; a plant that is just waiting to betray them, possibly even lead them into an ambush.

Surely, though, even the best of clones could not pass for him! He is, after all, the real Keazar! Under the close scrutiny that Rod and the others would subject it to, it would be found out and killed immediately.

Nevertheless, the consequences of such a deception made him cringe.

Then again, if his friends were already captured, Jontue wouldn't need any more clones, at least, not clones of him. When he considered this new train of thought, it suddenly dawned on him that they might not be going to assist in the searching of the tunnels. Instead, they were being led to their death like so many sheep to the slaughter. The more he thought about this last idea, the more sense it made to him.

But then he just as quickly discounted the idea; they wouldn't continue making clones of him if they had no further use for him.

"Keazar, you old fool!" he cursed himself, realizing too late that he had spoken aloud. As several nearer beings turned and looked at him suspiciously, he cursed himself silently, hastily looking away and avoiding eye-contact with them.

In anticipation of food and water, the mass of bodies started crowding together, scrambling through the narrow opening into the tunnel. As dire as his thirst was, he fought down the urge to join in the frenzy. Instead, he held himself back, watching in anguish as the others rushed past him. When he couldn't hold back any longer without risking standing out from the others, he slowly moved forward, hesitantly shuffling his feet. The only clones remaining behind were too misshapen and underdeveloped to move beyond where they had gotten since leaving the incubators. The scavengers were already carting them to the mound of decaying corpses, even though their feeble hearts were still beating.

Moving forward, both to put distance between himself and the rejects, as well as integrate with the last of the clones that were leaving, he found himself unable to push his way in amongst the tightly packed bodies. As he neared the entrance, it was with utter dismay and alarm that he suddenly discovered himself about to be caught between the rough rock of the tunnel wall and the sweat-drenched slickness of naked bodies. In sheer desperation, one step removed from outright panic, he tried with all his might to force his way into the mass of slick, smelly bodies. Slowly, as he was swept along by the slow-moving snake of human flesh, his body was being rubbed raw against the course rock of the tunnel wall. He suddenly realized that he should have hung back longer, allowing all but a few stragglers ahead of him.

Frantically he fought to work his way between the forward moving bodies. Yet, no matter how he tried, it was impossible to force his large bulk away from the wall. With the closeness of being trapped between so many bodies and the solid stone of the wall, his vision began blurring with the first symptoms of claustrophobic panic. Despite the parched tissues of his throat, he could taste the rising bile in his throat, and the smell of his own fear. He had never felt claustrophobic before in his long life, but he recognized it for what it was. His skin was burning from the salt-laden sweat of so many bodies as it entered the fresh wounds being torn into his tender flesh by the sharper edges of the rock. He fought to keep his arms between his torso and the wall for protection. But his efforts were fruitless. Even in the unlit darkness of the tunnel, he knew his life's blood was pouring from numerous cuts and scrapes.

Suddenly, when his weakening legs could not support him any longer and he was about to collapse, a break opened in the mass of bodies. Unable to resist, he could feel himself being pulled into the moving train of living, breathing, human flesh. The gap felt like a living vacuum, swiftly sucking him into its warm, moist embrace. The sheer pressure that was being exerted on him by the mass of bodies, now completely surrounding him, prevented his own weakened body from sliding to the floor. If he fell to the floor, he would surely die an agonizing death, trampled beneath thousands of plodding feet.

Before long, he lost all track of time, hanging onto the brink of blissful unconsciousness. With growing frequency, he was aware of his feet sliding through warm, soft substances on the tunnel floor. From the edge of his conscious thoughts, he knew that what he was feeling between his toes were the remains of weaker clones that had passed before him.

He had no idea where they were being herded and had long since quit caring. Although he had decided that he would not die without putting up a good fight, he had also decided that if he were to die, that would be all right too.

As these thoughts flowed in and out of his foggy mind, there was one thought that kept recurring. One thought, among all the rest that continued to give him pleasure, Jontue had no idea where he was.

It was the one advantage that he possessed over Jontue, and he was determined to use the advantage any way that he could. If only he had the strength to laugh, he would have found it funny the way Jontue had outwitted himself, making all these clones of him. So many of the clones so closely resembled him, Jontue couldn't tell them from the real thing.

Surely, Jontue had been informed of his death by now. He could almost imagine the look on the man's face when the poor lab technicians told him that they had lost the soul of their prime host!

Suddenly, he was jolted out of his stupor and un-gently returned to his senses, when the human flow of bodies came to an abrupt halt. The sudden stoppage at the front of the procession created quite a crushing effect as the rear of the procession continued to push forward, oblivious that the front had stopped. The stagnant air was suddenly filled with the sound of breaking bones and excruciating wails, the force of so much mass wreaking its havoc on the frailer bodies. Only due to his good fortune of being nearer to the rear of the column, was he spared the death-crushing pressure. Slowly, the pressure decreased against him, the rear of the procession finally ceasing their forward momentum.

His mind quickly turned to thoughts of escape, feeling sure they must have reached their destination. Sucking in several deep breaths, he took advantage of the moment by resting, just in case it should suddenly change.

He was shocked and distracted, not by the pain filled wailing that persisted around him, but by the number of bodies that fell to the floor when the pressure of the massed bodies subsided. Most of the fallen, he was quick to notice, were the less developed, the ones that he had assumed were earlier cloning attempts. The resulting effect of this weeding out of the weak was that the clones left standing more closely resembled him.

His attention was slowly distracted away from his own observations, as he became aware of a commotion farther up ahead, nearer to the front of the column. With mounting apprehension, he realized that the commotion was the result of soldiers, working their way gruffly through the crowded clones; they were coming directly toward him, or so he believed.

In a panic, he frantically looked about himself for a place to hide, considering his chances of hiding amongst the multitude of bodies. The soldiers suddenly stopped. Standing less than ten feet in front of him, the leading soldier raised his arms high above his head. As Keazar cringed against the slickened bodies behind him, he dully realized that the soldier's raised arms were a signal to other soldiers coming up behind him.

While the lead soldier remained in position, the others began herding the forward group of clones into a tunnel leading off to the right. After what seemed like an eternity to him, the leading group of clones was gone, all having entered the tunnel. All that remained behind were mounds of mutilated flesh and pools of splattered blood.

Shortly thereafter, two soldiers returned, rejoining the one that had remained behind. Standing together, one produced a small flagon from his personal supplies. Passing it from one to the next, they each took their turn quenching their thirsts. Yet, all the while they drank, they never so much as glanced in the direction of the remaining clones.

Keazar, like the others that stood near enough to the soldiers to see what they were doing, started subconsciously licking their lips, thirstily looking on. He could almost taste the cool wetness as it crossed his lips and flowed silkily down his parched throat. Glancing around at the other clones, he noticed that he wasn't the only one that was looking longingly toward the soldiers. For just one foolish second, the thought of rushing the soldiers to steal that flagon of liquid was almost more than he could resist. That a hundred more would be right on his heels if he took that first step, he had no doubts. Of course, even if he were the first to reach the flagon, would the clones behind him allow him to drink from it before taking it from him?

Still, he was weighing his chances of being run through the guts with a long-knife before he could reach the flagon, when several more soldiers emerged from the mouth of the tunnel. With a sigh of relief mixed with disappointment, he knew the decision had been made for him.

With a loud yell, a soldier lit a torch and, holding it high above him, turned and signaled the clones to follow. Slowly, the procession started moving forward again. During the stop, no one had bothered removing the dead carcasses from the tunnel floor. As the remaining column of more than a thousand clones moved forward, several unfortunate ones tripped over the scattered bodies. Before they could right themselves, they were quickly trampled to death.

Taking a quick look to the right as he went past the entrance where the other clones had gone, he was surprised that he was unable to see anything. Not even the flickering light from a torch in the distance to indicate that so many bodies had just recently passed through there. It was as if he were looking into the blackness of nothingness. He didn't understand how so many beings could vanish from sight so abruptly.

Unless, of course, the tunnel made a sharp turn just inside the entrance, effectively blocking everything that entered from sight. He consoled himself with the knowledge that, if there was one such tunnel branching off from this one, then it was very likely that there would be at least one more. A plan of action began to take shape in his mind as he slowly, but inconspicuously, began dropping farther and farther to the rear. When he was satisfied that enough beings had passed him by, he sped up his pace to match that of the moving mass of bodies. For his plan to end successfully with the net result that he desired, he needed three things to happen simultaneously: One, he needed to be at the rear of the next group that broke off from the main group. Two, his newly formed group needed to enter a tunnel with a sharp turn just inside the entrance. And three, he needed to live long enough to pull his plan off. All would be for naught if he died before he escaped.

With a determination that surpassed most, he vowed that he would take control of the third condition. He would live at all costs until, and unless, his plan failed because of one of the other two conditions.

After several hours, and many more deaths, the procession was again brought to a halt. This time there was barely a whimper of pain since the procession had long since become too weak to exert any dangerous pressure from behind. Looking on, in anticipation of the soldiers that he knew would be coming, he could see the tunnel on the right, just yards from the front of the procession.

Growing more anxious by the moment, it suddenly dawned on him that this could be nothing more than just a rest stop. With mounting feelings of disappointment, and defeat crowding at the edges of his consciousness, he suddenly saw a group of twenty or more soldiers emerge from the mouth of the tunnel. All were wearing breastplates that brandished the insignia of Lord Balzar's army. Several soldiers were bearing torches that immediately lit up the area well beyond where he stood.

There was a moment of discussion that sounded like arguing before the majority of the soldiers headed back into the tunnel. The remaining soldiers quickly started herding clones into the tunnel after them, obviously the winners of the argument. When he had just about reached the mouth of the tunnel, a soldier began waving his knife in the air, signaling the rest of the clones to stop. He felt his heart leap into his throat as he realized that he had worked himself too far back in the procession to be in the selected number for this tunnel. Silently, he cursed his stupidity and foul luck while slowly moving forward, all hope of escape gone.

As he considered the option of dying and giving his soul the chance to come back in another place, thereby renewing his chances of escape, a solitary soldier emerged from the mouth of the tunnel. Without hesitation, he began yelling and cursing at the soldier that had segregated the remainder of the clones. Throwing curse words back and forth at each other, they argued vehemently about the number of clones supposed to enter the tunnel. The soldier that had separated the remaining clones from those that had already entered the tunnel was adamant regarding his orders and how many bodies they specified. Meanwhile, the soldier that had emerged from the tunnel was just as determined that the other soldier must have misunderstood his instructions.

When the arguing had continued for more than several minutes, Keazar lost interest; fatigue and loss of blood were beginning to have an effect on his thought processes. Barely understanding the consequences, he noticed that the soldier in charge of the procession had finally broken down, and was giving in to the soldier from the tunnel. Despite the apprehension that was clearly etched into the lines of the soldier's face, he resumed sending more clones into the tunnel. While he did this, he yelled at the other soldier, warning him that if there were any questions raised about missing clones, he would lie, saying more had died en route than previously suspected.

The soldier standing in the mouth of the tunnel mistakenly assumed his fellow comrade was still arguing with him, unaware of his sudden change of mind. With no time to react, the advancing clones were on him. Instead of stepping aside to make room, allowing the clones to enter ahead of him, he suddenly sprinted in a mad dash to stay ahead of the onslaught. Running full out for his life, he simultaneously drew his long-knife from the sheath at his side for protection.

That was the last Keazar saw of the soldier as he entered the mouth of the tunnel. After approximately thirty clones had passed beyond the lead soldier, who was still standing in the hallway, he raised his long-knife above his head, and stepped in to segregate them from the remaining clones. The soldier's decision came just as Keazar passed him. With mounting glee, Keazar couldn't believe his good fortune; the soldier had checked the flow of clones heading into the tunnel, leaving him to bring up the rear. It was even better than he could have possibly hoped. For the briefest of moments, he was oblivious of his weakened condition, and his spirits soared.

Throwing a quick glance over his shoulder to make certain that no one was following him, he continued on the heels of the clones in front of him until the tunnel made a sharp left turn, approximately twenty feet in. No sooner had he followed the others around the corner, than he stopped. Slowly, too scared to even turn around, he backed up to the tunnel wall, all the while holding his breath for fear of being discovered.

Standing silently, his back against the wall, he could hear the sound of the column in the hallway resume its march. After an interminable amount of time, in which he remained rigidly in place, the sounds of tired feet, both in his tunnel and in the main hallway, began fading into the distance. Desperately, he desired to step away from the wall to steal a quick look into the hallway, but anxious fear kept him frozen in place.

Slowly, as the adrenalin of the moment and the sounds receded, he allowed himself to slide down into a sitting position on the floor. Despite knowing that he needed to move farther into the tunnel before the soldiers sweeping for stragglers came along, he was too drained and exhausted to move. Except for his urgently growing need to find water, he had no idea what he should do next. Due to the amount of blood that he had lost, he was one step closer to becoming dehydrated with each drop of sweat that ran down his cheeks. Moreover, his head was pounding, making it difficult to think clearly; he was clearly in the grip of dehydration.

Unaware of having fallen asleep, he was awakened by the sound of voices mixed with laughter. Remaining perfectly still, a trick he'd learned from Rod, he listened for the source of the voices. He had no recollection of when he had fallen asleep. In a panic, he feared that the voices he could hear were coming from soldiers that were rounding up stragglers.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, expecting to be blinded by torchlight. Nothing assailed him but darkness, darkness and silence. Shakily, he got to his feet, balancing himself with a hand against the wall. Feeling groggy and unsteady, the pounding in his head having only receded slightly, he was quick to recognize his symptoms as the early warning signs of dehydration. If he didn't find water soon, his vital organs would begin to shut down and he would die an agonizingly slow and painful death.

Lurching forward, while keeping one hand firmly against the wall to steady himself, he moved in the direction of the main hallway. He had almost gained the mouth of the tunnel when he heard the voices again. Shaking all over, his breath rasping through a parched windpipe, he was suddenly sure that he could be heard. There was no mistaking that the voices were coming from the main hallway, just a few feet ahead of him.

He quickly dismissed the idea of trying to put distance between himself and the voices. In his current condition, he would be lucky to get ten feet before they overtook him. Instead, he decided to wait calmly in the dark of the tunnel, hoping that they would pass by without taking the time to search it. Despite believing the odds of that happening were quite slim, he felt that there wasn't much of an alternative. If and when they discovered him, he was certain they would just kill him and leave his body to rot. In their opinion, he was just another clone, not worth the effort of saving.

Sitting in silence, waiting for them to speak again so that he could pinpoint their exact location, he started wondering if discovery would really be such a bad thing. That they would put him to death on the spot and end his suffering, he had no doubts. He also felt confident that it would be a very short time before his soul found another body. Once in another body, he could start over. Begin his attempt to escape anew. Jontue would still not have any way of finding him.

Not thinking clearly, he seriously considered surrendering himself to the soldiers. The body he possessed now was only causing him more agony and pain by the minute. Even with water and rest, it would take time to heal, time that he didn't have.

With a great deal of effort, he edged himself forward. Dragging his rapidly weakening body along the wall, he became intent on reaching the main hallway. With less than ten feet to go, he heard the voices again. By judging his proximity to the opening, he could tell that they had moved past him. While he continued listening, he could also tell by the sound of their voices that they were steadily moving away from him.

Dismayed that he had been too slow to reach the hallway before they were gone, his heart fluttered, and he sagged wearily against the wall. With them went his chances of acquiring a swift and painless death.

Dropping to his knees, he was oblivious of the damage the stone floor inflicted on his exposed joints. The all-consuming sense of defeat had numbed him to all other sensations. His throat had become so dry he was having difficulty breathing, and the small pockets of air that he managed to swallow felt like fire searing his lungs. For the first time in more than three thousand years, he wanted to cry, and now his body was too dehydrated to form the tears.

Slumping forward until he was laying prostrate on the warm tunnel floor, his mind finally collapsed. With thankful abandon, it sank into a restless, fatigue-induced, coma. Still, despite the fact that he was dying, it didn't shut out the nightmares. They continued relentlessly, chasing his soul toward the dark abyss of death.

### **15**

Elsa steadily regained consciousness. Within minutes, her vision cleared. After a quick self-examination, she determined that her heartbeat, as well as her blood pressure and other vital signs, were almost normal. However, she felt different. Cautiously, she raised her head above the lip of the capsule and studied the interior of the lab. Though she sensed danger, she knew that fleeing was useless; the monitors in the adjacent room would already have alerted someone that a being had regained consciousness in an incubator.

Her initial surveillance of the lab gave her the impression that it had been deserted. Upon closer examination, however, she quickly noticed the familiar connections leading into the individual incubators, connections that clearly indicated the presence of other bodies.

While waiting for her limbs to get their circulation back, and thus her strength, she started feeling anxious. Her anxiety wasn't stemming from an impatience with her limbs, but rather, from a fear of the unknown. Like all recyclees, she remembered the moments and circumstances leading up to her death. Yet, she felt that she knew more, almost as if she had remained conscious longer than she had. It was this unfamiliar sense of danger that made her fearful of who or what might be coming through the lab doors at any moment.

Lifting her head higher, she studied the room for yet another time. Surprised by how quickly her strength was returning, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. With her head a mere inch from the glass canopy, she could easily see into the adjoining incubators. Even with her very limited experience at recycling, she could see that the bodies in them weren't far behind her own in their progress. And despite the fact that they were still in a comatose state, their presence added to her growing unease.

Carefully, she studied the nearer capsules again, assuring herself that they were incapable of sight. She didn't necessarily feel that she was being watched; she just didn't feel that she was alone, either.

The feeling added to her mounting anxiety, forcing her stiff limbs into action. On the verge of panicking, she raised her arms and pushed against the clear Plexi-glass lid, surprised when it gave way under the sheer pressure of her fingertips, easily gliding up to open.

Hurriedly, ignoring the acute pain of her actions, she ripped the multitude of wires and tubes from her body; since no one had come to inspect her, it was still possible that she might escape from the lab before it was discovered that she had regained consciousness. Once in the hallways, she could observe the situation from a safe distance. If everything is safe, then she can acknowledge that she'd merely over-reacted, and could turn her attention to finding Lute.

Working frantically, she had almost freed herself of the capsule, when the door leading to the outside hall slid open. Much to her chagrin, Keazar came striding through it, a smile quickly coming to his rosy face at the sight of her. He was accompanied by two soldiers that she had never seen before. Yet, there was something familiar about them; if it hadn't been that they were walking next to Keazar, she never would have recognized the resemblance. However, standing next to each other, the resemblance was remarkable. And even though she had no specific reason to distrust him, a small voice inside her head screamed for her to beware.

"Keazar!" she said shakily, not sure why she was experiencing this sudden fear of him.

"Elsa, my dear!" he cried out, almost too cheerily. "I am so glad to see that you have finally awakened. We have been looking forward to your return. You are feeling well, I presume."

"Yes, fine," she replied nervously, backing away from the advancing trio. Hesitantly, she asked, "Where's Lute? He should be here watching the monitors."

"I'm sorry, my dear," he replied, feigning empathy for her, "But Lute suffered a little accident while you were regenerating."

"Where is he?" she demanded angrily, swinging wildly about, looking from one to the next of the capsules for her lover's body.

When he failed to answer her quick enough, the panic started closing in on her, rapidly becoming oppressive. Unable to restrain herself, she suddenly bolted from one capsule to the next, searching frantically for Lute. All her reasoning began to slip from her grasp, until she couldn't even remember why she was running. Was she running to find the capsule with Lute's body, or was she running to get away from Keazar and the soldiers?

Keazar suddenly called out to her, his voice coming from somewhere behind her, "Stop, you fool!"

Though she recognized the voice penetrating her thoughts, her mind was too far-gone to respond. Vaguely, as though she were a spectator standing on the sidelines, she was aware of him giving the soldiers orders to catch her before she could damage anything.

Just then, the small voice buried deep inside her head that had been screaming at her all along to beware of Keazar, took on a life of its own. Speaking coherently for the first time, it made its presence known to her as something more than just instinct or intuition. Quickly, before the soldiers could reach her, it told her that she must escape the being that called itself Keazar. The voice reaffirmed to her that Keazar was not who he appeared to be, but only a soulless creature, despite its uncanny resemblance to their trusted friend.

The voice suddenly became clearer, almost as if the person were standing next to her. No, it was even clearer than that. It was almost too clear; the sound of its voice wasn't even being distorted by the air. She put her hands to her ears and tried to shut the voice out, but it only made it clearer. She was suddenly sure that she had gone over the edge. Something must have gone wrong in the incubator.

"It's I, Elsa, Lute!" spoke the voice in her mind, demanding to be heard.

"I must be imagining this," she said aloud, her feet stopping as she leaned against a capsule for support.

"I can't explain how my soul became entrapped in your body, Elsa, but just that it has," insisted his voice, clearly in her mind, penetrating through her own thoughts.

Still in shock and unable to move, she felt the rough hands of a soldier grab her by the arm and spin her around. Without even knowing that she was doing it, her right hand reached out and grabbed the knife strapped on the soldier's waist. With a strength that she didn't know she possessed, she spun away from the soldier, simultaneously pulling the knife free from its sheath. With her back to the first soldier, she faced the second squarely, as he stepped up to assist his comrade.

Caught off guard, with his arms up and reaching for her shoulders, he was wide open to her attack. Planting her feet firmly on the floor, she lunged. Closing the gap between them before he could respond, she drove the knife deep into his solar plexus. Unable to stop herself, she collided head on into him. In a rush of mixed feelings, she was aware of his blood spraying out past the hilt, covering her arm, and running down the front of her breast and belly.

In desperation, she tried to pull the knife free before the soldier's dead body dragged it to the blood-covered floor. Unfortunately, the blood-drenched handle was too slippery for her, and she felt it sliding through her grasp.

"You bitch!" panted a harsh, gruff voice in her right ear as the first soldier finally managed to grab her shoulders in a bone-crushing grip.

A small cry of pain escaped her lips as he dug his fingers into her flesh to keep her from squirming away from him. With a surprising insight, she realized it was Lute that had taken over her body, killing the other soldier. With this same insight, she also knew that Lute could feel her pain as though it was his own.

"I'll teach you, you fucking bitch!" the soldier grunted breathlessly in her face. Using brute strength, he swung her around and threw her roughly against the nearest capsule, sending a sharp pain through her thigh from the impact. Without releasing his hold on her, he lifted her bodily, and laid her face-first in the open capsule.

Stunned, she gripped the edge of the capsule with both hands, while thrashing her feet wildly behind her. She realized through her stupor that the soldier intended to rape her from behind. Yet, to her own surprise, even knowing that the soldier was about to impale her on his manhood, she was more concerned with how Lute would handle the experience. As distasteful as the experience was going to be for her, it would be a totally new experience for him. Ironically, Lute had done it this way to her in their lovemaking sessions, and he had enjoyed it tremendously. Now he was going to get the opportunity to experience it from the woman's point of view, and she was very curious to see how much he enjoyed it now.

The soldier's strong, masculine hands relaxed their grip ever slightly, and slid down from her shoulders, sliding brusquely over her blood-covered breasts, and then finally stopping when they came to her hips. With the return of his ironclad grasp, he roughly pulled her to him. Resigning herself to the fact that he was going to have his way with her, she spread her legs and arched her back to make her womanhood more accessible to his manhood. Much to Lute's chagrin, and against his silently screamed protests, she assisted the soldier by moving her hips to align with him. It seemed ironic that she would help the soldier rape her, but the alternative meant even more pain and suffering.

Lute would have a hard time forgiving her for the way that she was behaving. Nevertheless, she had lived through circumstances similar to these during her many years as a slave. If the past had taught her anything, it taught her that to resist only meant more pain and discomfort.

She bit her lower lip and forcibly stifled back a groan from the sharp stab of pain that ripped through her stomach as his oversized manhood tore into her tender flesh. Lute's disgust brought the taste of rising bile to her mouth. With the soldier's escalating stimulation, he squeezed her hips tighter, digging his strong, meaty fingers deeper into her flesh. While bruising her savagely with his hands, he drove himself ever harder against her, forcing himself deeper.

While Lute was busy swearing his vengeance, she was busy cursing her own luck. As a slave, she had been raped many times by men of power and position, but never before had the perpetrator been so well endowed. The pain was excruciating. Just when she felt certain that she couldn't take it anymore, the soldier relaxed his grip.

Though she knew he hadn't climaxed, she could feel him growing limp. His blood slicked hands slid slowly down the sides of her thighs before suddenly dropping away from her body. With a lurch, the soldier slumped heavily to his knees, his face pressed against her blood-smeared buttocks. Confused and perplexed by his sudden behavior, she remained frozen in position, afraid to move.

When nothing happened for a minute, she slowly righted herself and turned around, allowing the soldier's limp body to slam face first to the blood-splattered floor. Only then, did she realize that he was dead, a short-bladed weapon protruding from his back. Keazar was standing over him, a sickening leer on his face as he looked down at the dead soldier's body, mesmerized.

"Why did you do that?" she timidly asked of him, confused and frightened by his bizarre behavior. She could taste the fear within her like so much bile rising in her throat.

Cowering away from him, she moved along the edge of the capsule, using it for support. Abruptly, she came to a halt, her back up against yet another incubator. Feeling trapped, she wanted to scream and cry out. Once again, the small voice inside her spoke up, calming her, forcing her to maintain control. Though she couldn't explain how she knew, she recognized the voice as that of Lute. Somehow, his soul was sharing her body with her, and though she couldn't begin to understand how such a thing was possible, his presence instilled a newfound courage within her.

"You ask why, and I say, why not!" the Keazar being answered her too loudly.

"You're not Keazar!" she fired back at him, anger beginning to replace her fear. "The real Keazar is not capable of such senseless cruelty."

"I am too, Keazar!" he angrily fired back at her. "I am as much the being of Keazar, as you are the being of Elsa!"

With her keen senses, she could feel the Keazar clone's anger growing within him. It was then that Lute understood why his soul had alighted in Elsa's body. With instant recognition of her thoughts, Lute knew that Elsa's understanding came simultaneously as his own.

With a mixture of dismay and gladness, Lute poignantly remembered the episode where he had cried over her lifeless body. While he was reminiscing those painful moments, she was busy remembering the warning that Keazar had made about contaminating tissue samples. As if they shared the same mind, which they did, each knew what the other was thinking synchronously. And now Lute knew that the being professing to be Keazar was advancing on Elsa.

As he moved toward her, he retrieved the bloody knife from the dead soldier's back. Holding it with the blade facing edge up, his intentions were quite apparent. The look of anger slowly melted from his face as it was evenly displaced by a more horrific expression; she could see as well as sense his intense anticipation. She could feel the tension growing throughout her, as she pressed ever harder against the immovable recycling capsule. He was so close now that she couldn't slip past him without exposing some part of herself to the knife. And she knew with certainty that he wouldn't hesitate to use it.

At the same time, she couldn't just remain motionless and let him slit her open. Yet, she was frozen with fear. It was unlike anything that had ever come over her before.

As she looked on in horror, she could see her own entrails, falling out of her disemboweled stomach cavity while the Keazar clone took his leisure, slicing her into little pieces. These thoughts and worse were clouding her mind, shutting it off to the reality that she had to face. She was rapidly running out of time.

On the verge of panic and hysteria, it was with a tremendous flood of relief that she saw a lone soldier, charging through the doorway from the hallway beyond.

"Keazar, sir!" he yelled, sounding out of breath, as he came to an abrupt stop at seeing the carnage on the floor in front of him.

"Get out!" the Keazar-clone cried, not taking his eyes from her cringing form.

Hesitantly, the soldier ignored the order and blurted out his message, "It's Carg, sir, he's dead."

Having delivered the message, he quickly glanced back toward the open door with obvious anticipation of getting back through it alive. Just as quickly, he looked back at his leader. The turmoil between remaining and running could be seen in his face. The news made the Keazar clone stop in his tracks, and turn to face the poor soldier bearing the bad news.

Seeing her opportunity, Elsa sprinted for the door leading into the control room. With lightening like speed, enhanced by the adrenalin pounding through her veins, she made her dash for freedom. Before the Keazar clone could react, she was past him. Unfortunately, her angle toward the control room door took her at a tangent past the newly arrived soldier. Luckily, he hesitated, unsure if he should make a move to cut her off or stand his ground and not get in his leader's way. Never having had to make such difficult decisions before, the soldier's hesitation gave her the time she needed.

Too late, his leader yelled at him to stop her. Flying through the open door to the control room, she hurriedly slid it shut behind her. Not stopping until she reached the main control panel, she threw the switch that electronically closed and locked all the doors in the lab area. With this done, she turned her attention to the controls that regulated the recycling capsules. In the time it took the Keazar clone to figure out that he was locked in the lab, Elsa had already readjusted the controls, effectively bringing an end to the clones still in the incubators.

Stepping away from the control panel, she watched in horror as the gauges indicated that she had done more than just stop the progress of the clones still in the incubators. But that she had triggered complete and absolute annihilation of the soulless beings. This was not her intention. But it was too late to undo.

Although she had no choice in her actions, she was glad that she didn't have the time to consider them before reacting. If she had given the consequences any thought beforehand, she might not have been able to follow through.

Much less emotional, Lute quickly commended her for her quick thinking and lack of hesitation with regard to the clones still in the incubators. To make his point, Lute physically forced her to face the lab and witness what the Keazar clone was doing to the poor messenger. Lute further stressed that the clone was only doing to the soldier, what he had intended doing to her.

Suddenly sick to her stomach, she quickly looked away. She was just a simple servant and not accustomed to such sickness and evil. As the realization of everything that had just happened to her began to sink in, her head started spinning and she lost her balance. Collapsing to her knees, she vomited until her stomach ached. Even then, when there wasn't anything left, the spasms continued to afflict her tortured abdomen.

Finally, from sheer exhaustion, the spasms subsided and her body finally relaxed. Rolling onto her side, she curled into the fetal position. Despite the longevity of her life, thanks to the recycling machines, giving birth was almost unheard of. Since most men and women, with the rare exception of a few isolated tribes, had been recycled, sterility was the norm. Pregnancy and childbirth were almost nonexistent. Hence, she could put no significance to the posture that she now displayed. Yet, she drew comfort from it, just the same.

She awoke with a start to hear Lute's voice in her ear, telling her that she needed to awaken. When she tried to move, the stiffness in her limbs suggested that she'd been sleeping for a long time.

"Why did you wake me?" she groggily asked of him, while begrudgingly getting to her feet and rubbing her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"I'm sorry, but not having a body of my own, I don't feel the same need for rest that you do. Although I can empathize with your fatigue, I couldn't stand just waiting around in limbo any longer while you slept."

"I know," she softly acknowledged him. "I was sharing your thoughts while I dreamt." Then, playfully, she asked, "Were you able to experience my dream?"

"Oh yes," he answered her lovingly. "That's why I woke you, I couldn't handle any more." After a moment, he jokingly added, "Not without a body of my own, anyway!"

"Flirt!" she teased before realizing where she was. Her good humor quickly evaporated and a serious mood settled in its place. "We need to come up with a plan."

Looking out through the glass separating her from the lab, she saw that the door to the hallway was still intact. Of course, she thought, no one would realize that their leader was trapped in the lab and try to free him. At the thought of him, she quickly looked around the lab. On the verge of panic, she frantically scanned the lab again, still unable to locate him. Fighting back the panic, she forced herself to calm down. If he had found a way out, he would have returned with soldiers by now. He would not have left her locked in the control room if he could help it.

"Where is he?" she asked unconsciously and was startled when Lute replied.

"He must be over by that soldier's body, the one that attacked you. It's just on the other side of that incubator."

"Why would he be over there?" she asked, no longer startled by his reply, but expecting it.

"I don't know. I would have thought he would be trying to alert his soldiers to his predicament."

"I have an idea," she mentally whispered to the loving soul that she shared her body with, subconsciously afraid that she might be overheard.

There wasn't any need to explain her plan to Lute; he knew of it the same instant that she thought of it. However, knowing of it didn't mean he agreed with it. And although it was simple in design, it was still a dangerous scheme. Not only would it require her to run from the control room, through the lab, and into the hall before the Keazar clone could catch her, it also required that she set the doors to self-close before starting her run. If she were delayed for any reason, and couldn't get through a door before it automatically closed, she would be trapped by her own doing. The danger level was high, despite its simplicity, and Lute was quick to point out what would inevitably happen to her if it failed. That she could wind up locked in the lab with that beast, or that he might escape into the hallway with her, were two very real possibilities.

"I don't like it," he firmly conveyed. "Even if you manage to get us out of here and leave that abnormal deviant behind, do you have any idea what awaits us in the hall?"

"No, not entirely, but I have a fair idea," she related equally firmly to him. "Besides, the only alternative is to wait here. We could die here! While we wait for what? We have no way of knowing whether the real Keazar and our friends have been successful or not."

"You're right, you know," he finally admitted, instilling all the passion of a whipped dog.

What Elsa lacked in physical presence, she more than made up for with strength of will and determination. Lute didn't know if he could hide any feelings or thoughts from her, under the current circumstances, but his level of admiration toward her was growing immensely.

"I love you too, you know," she thought softly.

With the necessary programming done, she stepped back, took a deep breath, and threw the switch that released the locks on the doors.

There was a soft whooshing sound as the doors slid back, quickly disappearing into the solid white walls. Immediately, knowing her time to reconsider was past, she threw the lever that set her program into motion. Within seconds, the doors would be re-closing, effectively resealing the lab and everything within it. If she didn't get out now, she would be stuck inside with the hideous Keazar-clone.

Sprinting, she flew through the first set of doors leading out of the control room and into the lab. In a fleeting moment of panic, she feared that she had only succeeded in locking herself out of the control room and in the main lab with the Keazar clone. This combination of fear and panic spurred her to even more speed as she saw the door leading into the hallway beginning to close in front of her.

As if everything were happening in slow motion, she watched it sliding back toward the other wall, closing off her chance to escape. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flicker of movement and knew that the Keazar clone was making a dash for the same opening. In that briefest of glimpses, she was sure that she saw fresh blood running down its chin. As unthinkable and grotesque as the thought was, she knew that the evil being had been interrupted while busily dining on the carcass of the dead soldier. Spurred on by visions of the Keazar clone eating her flesh, she threw herself bodily toward the diminishing opening.

With less than eight inches to go before sealing her in the lab with the soulless beast, she reached it. Without slowing, her head passed through unobstructed. Unfortunately, she had miscalculated her dive. In her adrenaline-charged state, she had overcompensated for the speed with which the door was closing. Too late to clear it, she came to a crashing halt, her right shoulder slamming painfully against the unyielding wall. Reacting out of sheer panic that bordered on hysteria, she twisted her body sideways, ignoring the bruising of the door as she wriggled and squirmed, forcing her upper torso through the stalled gap.

Unable to breathe and gasping from the pressure of it against her bare midriff, she pushed with all her might against the internal workings of the closing door, her back taking the brute force of her efforts. With sweat breaking out on her forehead, she screamed in agony from the crushing forces pressing brutally against her back and abdomen. With a final effort born of adrenalin charged hysteria, she thrust herself forward, her hips taking the brunt of the door's force as she scraped through the opening.

Frantically, she looked around at her immediate surroundings, shocked that she had come through alive. While catching her breath, she noticed blood trickling from both hips and the sides of her feet; the door had literally scraped the skin off her flesh.

Luckily, none had come looking for their leader since the last poor soldier; the hallway was deserted. Shakily, she got to her feet and looked down at her bruised and battered body. Bending over and putting her palms on her knees, she took short rapid breaths. Her shoulder bothered her a little where she had slammed into the wall. However, most of her pain was coming from the fresh bruising to her breasts and abdomen. The crushing impact from the door had caused her breasts to swell to more than double their normal size, while leaving them a dark, bluish-black in color. With a wince, she also noted they were very tender to the touch.

"I'll make a note to be gentler when we make love in the future," Lute thought sympathetically.

"What, and leave me dissatisfied and hungering for more?" she was quick to fire back, her spirit having come through unscathed.

Lute could sense that despite the discomfort coming from her breasts and abdomen, she was feeling much better overall. He felt better too, considering their temporary good fortune.

Elsa knew, just by the quick glimpse that she had seen of the Keazar clone as she raced out of the lab, that it would be released from its temporary prison long before it ran out of food. All of the incubators now contained nothing more than piles of dead ashes, thanks to Elsa's resourceful actions in the control room. However, it still bothered her that such an evil being would eventually escape from this temporary prison. Soon, much too soon, he would be found by his compatriots. When that happened, he would again be free to wreak his evil on an innocent world. For a long moment, she debated the benefits of finding a weapon and going back to kill him. Suddenly, Lute's voice harshly interrupted her train of thought.

"Forget it, Elsa!" he said sternly in her mind. "It's not worth the risk. We need to get out of here now, before someone comes along and finds us! Besides, I have the feeling that he is just one of many. We cannot possibly kill them all."

"Okay," she agreed unenthusiastically. "You're probably right." And then, after a moment's hesitation, jovially added, "My, my, isn't that a change!"

"Come on, let's get out of here," he repeated, feigning that he hadn't sensed her latter thought. Then, sarcastically, he added, "The sooner we find the real Keazar, the sooner I can get a body of my own!"

Putting the matter behind her, she set off down the hall, her injuries causing only a slight limp in her gait as she headed away from the lab. From having lived in the lab complex, she was familiar with each doorway and where it led. Hence, she could move swiftly without having to stop and investigate each one.

Moving as silently as was humanly possible, she thought back to Lute, "Are you saying there is something wrong with my body, now?"

"No. That is not what I said at all! There is nothing wrong with your body. In fact, I have developed a newfound respect for it. However, that still doesn't mean that I wouldn't rather have one of my own," he replied sincerely.

His sincerity touched her. Instead of teasing him further, she decided to drop the subject and concentrate on the task at hand, mainly, their escape.

Within minutes, the bruising stiffness was limbering, and the limp was gone. Within a few more minutes, she was moving with the smooth grace and stealth of a large jungle cat as she crept swiftly down the hallway. Her route was well planned, knowing exactly where she wanted to go first, despite Lute's concerns that the risk was too great.

It was against his unrelenting pleas that she took the most direct path to the food prepping area. She was preparing to take a journey and she needed provisions. Yet, she couldn't share anymore of her plan with Lute than that, because she hadn't thought it out beyond that. For the moment, her plan was simply to secure provisions enough to last her on a journey. She had no idea where she was going or how long it would take her.

Another desire she was experiencing, one that was strangely alien to her, was a desire to find a weapon. Actually, the desire was not so much hers, but more to pacify the part of her that now belonged to Lute. Never before could she remember feeling so naked and vulnerable without a weapon strapped on her hip as she has since Lute took possession of a part of her mind.

Her journey through the hallways and tunnels was an uneventful one, until she reached the back entrance leading into the food prepping room. Here, she came face to face with her first soldier since leaving the lab. By his reaction, she knew that the Keazar clone had not yet been discovered in the lab. He had simply been ordered to guard this entrance so that supplies could not be pilfered. Upon seeing Elsa, all thoughts of guarding supplies quickly left his mind.

It was with dry amusement that Elsa sensed Lute's revulsion toward the soldier's reaction to seeing her. However, because of her obvious lack of a weapon, she knew that she didn't have any choice but to use her feminine wiles to her advantage. Though she forced a smile and made eye contact with him, she felt a sudden urge to turn and run. Recognizing that the urge was Lute's and not her own, she fought it down and stood her ground, silently chastising Lute for his weakness.

Studying the soldier closely, she noticed for the first time that he was licking his lips in anticipation, and drool was running down the front of his armor. Looking deeply into his eyes, trying to see beyond his lust, she suddenly felt the hair rise on the nape of her neck.

The soldier wore a breastplate bearing the insignia of Lord Balzar. But he had allowed it to become stained and rusted from the high humidity. Seeing the image through Elsa's eyes, Lute further determined that it probably hadn't seen a coat of polish since being worn by some poor foot soldier that had really belonged to Lord Balzar's army.

Elsa, not familiar with military maintenance, had been around enough overbearing men to both recognize one, and to know how to handle him. She had also developed a new respect for the mindless cruelty with which the evil beings were capable. Clearly in her mind, she was aware of Lute arguing against the plan of action that she had already formulated. The alternative, which would have been to trade sexual favors for supplies, would have been considerably easier for her. However, she couldn't bring herself to let the soulless creature have his way with her in exchange for the provisions. As long as Lute shared her body, such a deal wasn't an option!

She was suddenly aware of a new sensation, an intense longing coming from Lute. His scrutiny of the soldier hadn't missed the long-knife hanging in a scabbard over the soldier's left hip.

Slowly, portraying innocence and vulnerability, she cupped her swollen right breast in the palm of her hand and slowly massaged it. Slower still, and with exaggerated emphasis, she fondled the darkly bruised nipple between the fingers of her left hand, while simultaneously biting her lower lip against the excruciating pain that she was causing herself. Feigning ignorance of her actions, she displayed a great pleasure and longing at the burgeoning size of his hardening manhood.

"I've come for food," she said sweetly, fighting back the revulsion that she felt as he reached down between his legs and scratched his unclean balls.

When he failed to respond to her comment, but instead only grinned, she licked her lips exaggeratedly before continuing, "I'm really hungry. I could eat almost anything."

Taking his penis in his right hand, he began roughly stroking it. Stepping toward her, drool and spittle dribbling from his chin, the rhythm of his strokes started gaining speed. When he was less than two feet from her, she slowly extended her open right hand toward his manhood, fully intending to stroke his swollen meat. Almost hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure of what she intended, the soldier slowly removed his own hand from his penis. Lute's screaming protests were bouncing around in her head, making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on what she needed to do. Though she needed desperately for Lute to remain silent so that she could think, he absolutely refused. All she intended was to give the soldier a quick climax so that she could get her provisions and leave. However, Lute was just as determined that she would never touch the beast in such a manner.

Suddenly, with no warning to either herself or the soldier, she reached past his manhood and wrapped her fingers around the hilt of his long-knife. With no break in the fluidness of her movements, she effortlessly withdrew the knife from its scabbard. Although she had rarely handled such a weapon, it felt as right and comfortable in her hand as if she had been born to it.

Stunned by her actions, the soldier was caught completely off guard. Right up until the moment that his own weapon came slashing down on the right side of his neck, severing his carotid artery, did either the stupid grin or his look of anticipation ever dim. Only in the seconds before his heart stopped beating, and he realized that he was dying, did he display any other emotion, and then it was only utter disappointment.

Working frantically to remove the scabbard from the soldier's waist, she felt almost sorry for the poor, slovenly beast. With the scabbard strapped securely around her waist, and the long-knife held out in front of her, she charged through the opening that led into the food-prepping cavern, crouched and ready to do battle.

To her surprise, the room was deserted. Taking a deep breath and visibly relaxing, she leaned against the table running down the center of the room. While marveling at her mastery of the blade, she slid the weapon into the scabbard at her waist, and glanced around for a suitable pack. Unable to find a standard pack, she opted for a large heavy sack with a single strap.

Disappointed by the barrenness of the shelves, she briefly wondered why a guard would have been stationed outside when there were so few provisions to guard. What little remained of the food was either spoiled or questionable at best.

Undeterred, Elsa scrounged under the shelves and along the floor, managing to find a moldy block of stale cheese and a few other items that had been overlooked. Overall, it was a small reward for her efforts. Yet, it was still better than having no food whatsoever. She was immensely relieved that she hadn't resorted to paying a higher price than she had.

Picking up an empty wine flask, she filled it with tepid water from the basin. Although the water looked disgusting to her, she knew the risk of dehydration was much greater than that of dying of hunger. After taking one last look around, just to make sure that she hadn't overlooked anything, she headed back through the entrance by which she had come.

The dead soldier still laid where he'd fallen; why she suspected that it might have moved, she had no idea. After backtracking several hundred feet down the rear hallway, she turned into an opening that led into a smaller, unlit tunnel.

Her progress was much slower in the darkness, but she knew it led directly away from the labs and, for the moment, that was all that mattered. Right now, she just wanted to put as much distance between the evil that inhabited that place and herself as she could. When she was safely away, she would stop and consider her next plan of action. Somehow, she had to figure out a way to reach the real Keazar and Capt. Rodick. But where could they be? She knew where they were supposedly going, but there was no guarantee they ever made it there. In fact, for all she knew, they could be dead, or being held prisoner somewhere.

"That's right, Elsa," spoke up Lute's voice, interrupting her thoughts. "If that's the case, they'll be needing our help, now more than ever. We have to find them. And the only way to do that will be to go to where they were supposed to have gone. We don't have any other choice."

"You're right, as usual," she sarcastically replied.

"It's a sad fact of my nature," he chided back.

### **16**

The more distance we put between the main tunnel and ourselves, the darker it grew. We couldn't run the risk of lighting a torch on the off chance we were being pursued; the lingering smoke would be a telltale sign of our passing this way. Despite the impenetrable dark, Wary maintained a brisk pace, quickly putting the miles behind us. Every now and then, a muffled curse could be heard as someone raised their head, trying to relieve a cramp in their back. They would quickly discover first hand just how low the ceiling was. When I considered Beif's exceptionally tall stature, I knew he was suffering the worse. And so it was, with his welfare in mind, I decided to call a short rest.

As I was about to voice the words, however, Wary suddenly came to an abrupt halt. Thanks to our past experiences at traveling through dark tunnels at high speeds, I easily avoided a collision with him and the others.

"Let me by," I whispered impatiently to the bodies that separated me from him, softly patting their backs in acknowledgement while gliding past them.

Before I had a chance to ask Wary why we'd stopped so suddenly, he put the palm of his hand against my lips, signaling me to silence. Patting his forearm to acknowledge my understanding, I in turn strained my senses to hear or smell what had alerted him. Due to the impossibility of seeing in the absolute darkness of the small, hand-carved tunnel, whatever had grabbed his attention had to consist of either an odor or a sound; I could detect neither.

Waiting impatiently for him to explain his motives, I continued crouching beside, and a little behind, his left shoulder. The passage wasn't wide enough to accommodate both of us side by side or I would have moved abreast of him.

After sitting motionless for almost five minutes, my patience reached its end. Irritated and annoyed, I was about to ask him why he had called us to a halt. Already, in my own mind, it had become irrelevant that I had been about to call a rest stop. Fortunately, before I began blurting out reprimanding words, I heard a faint, shuffling sound. It was coming from a spot just a few feet in front of us. The nearness of it made my heart skip a beat as I quickly swallowed my prior thoughts and misgivings. Before the sound had even faded away, I recognized it for what it was; someone was sliding along on his or her bare belly over the stone floor. Cringing, I thought of all the experiences in my life that could make me so familiar with such a noise.

Silently, I slid the long-knife from the scabbard hanging over my left hip and held it out in front of me. My actions obviously didn't go unnoticed, as I felt, more than heard, the others drawing their weapons, too.

Poised and ready to do battle with the unknown, we were both surprised and baffled when the noise suddenly came filtering to us from farther down the tunnel. After feeling a moment of disbelief that the source of the noise could retreat so far, and so fast, without our being aware of its movement, I began doubting my first hunch. I quickly deduced instead that there had to be more than one; it was the only explanation that fit. To accept any other, would be tantamount to doubting my instincts. What had made me think there could only be one thing out there in the dark anyway?

Whatever was out there was equally aware of us. It or they probably didn't know what we were, whether friendly or an enemy, any more than we knew what they were. We couldn't just randomly attack the first thing that came out of the dark without first knowing who or what it was. That wasn't our nature; we weren't cold-blooded killers! We would find a way to make contact without giving up any knowledge or advantage in the process.

Quietly, I reached into Wary's pack and withdrew a small torch. A strong whiff told me that it contained sufficient fuel to light. Carefully, laying it on the tunnel floor in front of me, I reached back into his pack and retrieved a spark maker. While I was doing this, Wary remained perfectly still, trusting fully that I knew what I was doing, and that I would signal him if I needed help.

Needing both hands, one to hold the torch and one to strike the spark, I found myself hesitant to sheath my knife. Although I knew this hesitation for what it was, I still groped for an option. Finally, by placing my trust in my friends, I was able to set aside the fear that I would need my weapon quickly. Slipping it into its sheath, I stood to my full height, feeling around and making myself familiar with the ceiling and walls as I did so. The ceiling turned out to be well beyond the outstretched reach of my hands. It wasn't until I explored the sides of the tunnel with my fingers that I discovered small indentations carved into the stone. Immediately, I realized the indentations had been carved into the solid rock of the tunnel walls to facilitate as hand and foot holds. That also explained why I couldn't reach the ceiling above my head; we were standing directly below a shaft that led up to another level!

Tapping Wary on the shoulder, I quickly guided his hand to the first indentation in the rock wall. Without hesitating, he started climbing. When he had gone beyond my hand's reach, I turned to Brae and guided her hand to the first indentation as well. I continued doing the same with each until there was only Beif and I left standing at the base of the shaft. Turning from the shaft, I stooped to retrieve the torch and spark maker from where I had placed them on the floor. My intention was to put them in Beif's sack before sending him up the shaft. However, my search of the floor came up empty. Something, or someone, had found the items while I was busy sending my friends up the shaft.

Without any further hesitation, and mounting anxiety, I guided Beif's large hand to the indentation and sent him climbing up the shaft after the others. When his feet had gone past my head, I grabbed a handhold and started climbing after him. I had climbed less than four feet when I suddenly felt an iron-like grasp on my ankles. Before I could react, they jerked my feet out and downward with a tremendous force, easily pulling me free from the holds. Caught totally by surprise, my hands slid out of the indentations with little resistance. For a fraction of a second, I felt a complete lack of control; my body was free-falling downward toward the hard stone surface of the tunnel floor. The powerful grip on my ankles never lessened, but instead, increased the pressure of their hold.

Normally, I would have landed on my feet, if they had only been free to come down of their own accord. Unfortunately, whatever had a hold of me, suddenly jerked my feet upward, into the air above my head. My pack slid down over my head, tangling my arms in its straps, and coming between the top of my skull and the solid stone of the floor. If it hadn't been for the pack falling between the floor and my head, the blow would have split my skull open like an egg. Instead, the blow was only severe enough to knock me unconscious.

Slowly, in small increments, I became aware of a terrific pain in the back of my head. As I lay motionless, keeping my eyes shut, I listened for sounds of movement. Distinctly, because of their proximity, I could hear the heavy breathing of several people sleeping deeply. Also, though I hadn't opened my eyes, I could feel the harshness of bright lights being cast from several large torches. Slowly, without moving a muscle, I forced a sleep-gummed eyelid loose from its lower counterpart and waited for the blurriness to pass.

Surprisingly, my eyes came into focus quicker than I had anticipated. Sometimes, it can take several hours or longer for the dizzying haze to pass after regaining consciousness.

Very carefully, remaining perfectly still, I scanned as much of the immediate area surrounding me as I could without drawing attention to myself. It appeared that I was in a large, torch-lit cavern. If I counted correctly, it contained forty or more men, each sleeping soundly. Aside from them, it was devoid of everything but the torches, and there were at least six, burning brightly, suspended in sconces on the walls. After my initial scan of the cavern, the first thing that I noticed was the manner in which the torches had been strategically placed so as not to create any shadows. The next thing that struck me was that most of the men were sleeping helter-skelter about the warm stone floor. However, here and there, a lone man could be seen leisurely strolling around. At first, it appeared that the men who were awake were guards, and that those who were sleeping were prisoners. However, I quickly dismissed that idea as I realized that both the sleepers and the strollers had weapons.

While continuing to feign sleep, I rolled over to my other side so that I could determine whether I still had my weapon or not. Not surprisingly, it had been removed. I would have been surprised, had it not been.

From my new position, I had a clear view of the entrance. Blinking my eyes to clear the last of the sleep from them, I realized now that there weren't any visible guards. That didn't necessarily mean that there weren't any. Instead, it probably just meant that they were out of sight, beyond the reach of the light falling into the tunnel. With only one entrance to guard, it would only take one-armed man to keep this many, and more, confined.

When it appeared there wasn't any point in carrying on the charade of being asleep any longer, I opened my eyes and slowly raised myself into a sitting position. My joints were stiff, and cried out in agony with each bit of motion.

I expected a reaction of some sort and was almost disappointed by the total lack of attention anyone paid me. Quickly, looking around for my pack and weapon, I could see only sleeping men and smooth hard rock. With a small amount of relief, I didn't recognize any of the other faces. It was probably safe to assume that the rest of my comrades had escaped. Immediately, I felt better; Loté was safe and still among friends. As for my own life, I wasn't too concerned. At the moment, it seemed all I had to do was head out into the hall and decide which way to go.

Getting to my feet, I did some stretching exercises to work the stiffness out of my joints. My head ached from the blow it had received, but there wasn't any evidence of dried blood caked in my hair. I had been fortunate; I had suffered only a mild concussion, nothing serious.

If I expected to raise a reaction from the men in the cavern, I was disappointed; though I stretched and looked around with curiosity, no one paid me any mind.

Stepping over and around the sleeping bodies, I worked my way toward the entrance, and the freedom that lay just beyond it. With each step that I took, I expected someone to sound an alarm. The feeling hovered over me, clinging to my every move, screaming at me that at any moment, soldiers would come charging through the opening, weapons drawn, looking for someone kill. As certain as I was that it was going to happen, I was equally confident that it was I that was going to be killed.

With the small hairs pricking on the back of my neck, I mimicked the other men that were walking aimlessly about the cavern. However, I did so with one exception: slowly and surely, my progress was moving me ever closer to the opening, and the freedom that lay in the darkness beyond. Soon, I was less than twenty feet from the opening. With apparent ease and nonchalance, another man whose prior movements had seemed completely aimless, was suddenly between the tunnel entrance and me.

With a sinking feeling, I realized that the men that had been moving aimlessly around the cavern were indeed keeping a close eye on the rest of us that were asleep. But knowing that now did me little good, while I studied the man in front of me blocking my path. Watching him, I silently assessed his ability to stop me. Although he was armed with a short-bladed knife, he made no move to withdraw it from its sheath. Instead, he simply continued to watch me as I continued my assessment of him. Most men would have turned away, or at the least, averted eye contact. His gaze, however, only intensified as he stared back at me. I was being assessed with the same scrutiny that I was assessing him. Yet, except for his eyes, there was no way of telling. While he was trying to decide if he had what it took to prevent me from reaching the opening, I was trying to decide if I had what it took to reach the opening.

We were both in top physical condition. Unless he was trained in hand-to-hand combat, it was my estimation that we were evenly matched. We had all the makings of a standoff with but one exception; time was on his side. With mounting anticipation, I noticed other men were also moving in to align themselves between the tunnel entrance and me. Time was quickly running out, and with it, my options. If I was going to make a break for it, I needed to do it now!

Stepping toward him, I casually asked, "Where are we and how did I get here?"

For just a fraction of a second, he let his guard down and I saw the hesitation in his eyes; he was prepared to fight me, but he wasn't prepared to talk to me. He was not a cold-blooded killer, just a man following orders.

My question caught him off guard, and he hesitated for a moment while he considered his response. My mind raced, hurriedly calculating whether I could get past him before the others could step in to help. He wasn't backing away, though I continued closing in on him.

"I cannot let you leave," he said softly, almost apologetically.

"So, you can talk, after all," I casually replied, moving to within five feet of him, and less than ten feet from the opening to the tunnel. "Why have you captured me? You are obviously not a clone or you would have killed me by now."

"It is not our intention to harm you. However, I have orders to keep you here until King Sheesa arrives," he said, raising his voice a little louder.

The name hit me like a rock. King Sheesa! He was still alive then! I had just assumed that he and his tribe had been obliterated by the destruction that had followed the nuclear catastrophes.

As quickly, as my hopes had risen, they were vanquished by another thought; Sheesa would have me killed for being the cause of his stepson's death. Even though it was a long time ago, Sheesa's stepson Fird had lost his life saving mine, and Sheesa wasn't likely to forget it. Although Loté, whom Sheesa had taken a liking to, had described him as a fair and honest man, she was a beautiful woman. It was only natural that he would treat her with some deference not afforded a man, such as myself.

Loté had also said that Sheesa's tribe members were natural born, not recycled. With a keen eye, I studied the brave blocking my way with renewed interest. He was lean and hard of body. He probably had quick reflexes to match.

Just as quickly, I reasoned that Sheesa might not be aware of my identity. Yet, more importantly, he didn't realize who still remained with the small group from which I'd been separated. It only stood to reason that if he had known of Loté's presence, he would have kidnapped her instead.

Though I was initially undecided, I swiftly determined the better option for all concerned was to let this man know who I was and why he should be hurrying to inform Sheesa.

He listened intently to my name and story, yet he appeared hesitant to believe me. That is, until I mentioned Loté's name.

"If you are who you say you are, then where is this woman called Loté?" he asked, suddenly interested.

Several other men that had been sleeping nearby were beginning to stir as our voices disturbed their slumber. It quickly became obvious that they, unlike myself, were not prisoners, but merely using this cavern for sleeping quarters. The men strolling casually among them were guards, keeping vigil for their protection. As the sleeping men awoke, they exchanged greetings with the guards before they in turn took up the casual strolling while their counterparts lay down and went to sleep.

"If this is King Sheesa's tribe," I began, ignoring his question about Loté, "Then where are the women and children that I have heard so much about?"

"This is the sleeping quarters for the single men of the tribe," he answered before reproachfully adding. "We are not heathens like so many other tribes. We do not sleep with our women until the proper ceremonies have been performed. You should know this of us if you know anything of King Sheesa and his people!" He paused for effect, hoping to get a response out of me. When I stood silently watching him, he asked, "How can you prove that you are who you say you are?"

"I don't have to prove anything to you!" I heatedly fired back, angered by his insinuation that I was a heathen and a liar. "I will wait and talk face to face with this king of yours!"

"Then you will not have to wait any longer!" bellowed a large, broad-shouldered man, as he stormed through the entrance.

The man that I was speaking to quickly stepped aside to let him pass while bowing his head out of respect for this man that carried himself with all the authority of a king.

Standing my ground, I felt myself subconsciously raising my head higher to meet his gaze. Though he was several inches taller than I was, I was determined that he wouldn't look down on me. He continued forward, stopping only when there was less than six inches of highly charged air separating our well-muscled chests.

"And who might you be?" he said evenly as we locked our eyes together like a couple of bull elephants locking horns.

"I am Captain Rodick of the Heälf Air Service," I replied, matching his tone of voice and demeanor. "Does the...?"

Cutting me off in mid-sentence at recognition of my name, he spluttered, "You!" His whole demeanor was suddenly cast aside like a dirty cloak. "You're the one that woman was looking for!"

"Yes, I'm the one," I said cautiously, not sure which way his temper was going to swing.

"She took my son with her, you know?"

"Yes, I met your son. He was a brave man. He gave his life so that others could live," I said sincerely, not wanting to mention that his son had died so that I could live.

"I knew when they left that my son would not be returning to me. I could see it in his eyes. It is not easy losing a son," he added sadly.

His gaze faltered as he fought back the poignant pain of remembering. Slowly, he stepped back from me, his gaze falling to the floor. My heart went out to him. His was probably one of the last tribes that were still capable of bearing children beneath the planet's surface. And yet, it didn't make it any easier to lose one.

"I'm sorry for your loss," I said softly.

"And how is Loté?" he asked after a moment, appearing to shake off the melancholy mood. Before I could answer him, he quickly continued, "She was more than just a beautiful woman, that one. She would have made me proud to have her for a daughter-in-law. It was easy to see why Fird fell so hard for her. I would have been disappointed in him as a son if he hadn't," he softly chuckled, while pausing to catch his breath before continuing. "At the least, I would have questioned his manhood!"

"She's fine, or at least she was fine," I answered him quickly, before he could continue.

"How is it that you don't know how she is?" he asked, concern etching into his face.

"It would appear that some of your braves kidnapped me from my friends without taking the time to find out who we were. When I last saw them, they were safe. However, they were in dangerous territory and no one among them is sure of their path."

"Then we will find them!" he cried out loudly, waking the remaining sleepers. "Holt, give this man his weapons back, and any other possessions that he had on him! And make sure he has water, he is our guest!"

The man, who had originally blocked my escape, jumped to obey, making it safe to assume that he was Holt. Within a few minutes, he returned with my pack and weapons. Knowingly, he handed me my waist sheath first. When I had it strapped securely about my waist, and had tested the smoothness of the weapon's release, he held the pack so that I could slip into it without any trouble. Instantly, I noticed an extra weight and knew that they had added some of their own supplies to replenish my own. Rather than thank them, I decided to ignore it for the time being, and pretend that I didn't notice the difference. Already, I knew that what Loté had told me about this man they called Sheesa, was entirely true; he was definitely kind and generous.

Without any further delay, Sheesa turned toward the entrance, assured of his position among his braves. Quickly, I fell in behind him. In the tunnel, we met up with a group of approximately twenty more young braves, each outfitted with small packs on their backs and weapons on their hips. With Sheesa leading the way to the right, a young brave lit a torch and swiftly trotted past him to light the way. It didn't pass my notice when Holt was handed a sheath containing a long-knife and a small pack of his own by another waiting brave. What I didn't notice was any sign of their women or children. To say that I was disappointed would have been an understatement.

"King Sheesa," I began slowly, walking briskly in the direction that I assumed would lead us back to where they had captured me. "Loté told me of another woman that she left behind with your tribe. Might I be so bold as to ask of her whereabouts?"

"That would be Rhone," he said reminiscently. "She was a wild one, that Rhone."

"What do you mean by that, was?" I cut him off abruptly, suddenly concerned for Loté's sake. "Did something happen to her? Is she not alive any longer?"

"Oh yes, she lives well that one," he quickly replied. "She is just not as wild as she used to be, is what I meant to say. It is not an easy life being married to one of my warriors. There is always much hard work to be done."

"If it's so bad, I'm surprised that she hasn't run away," I ventured cautiously.

"According to Lick, my wife's son and Rhone's husband, she almost did at first. But now there isn't anywhere else that she would rather be. She has truly found her place in this world, it would seem."

"Loté will be truly happy to hear of that," I replied, relieved that I wouldn't have to be the bearer of bad news. Of course, I was just naturally assuming that we would be reunited shortly. After all, the others couldn't have gotten that far in such a short period of time.

We walked on in silence for a while. Despite his advanced age, he was in extremely good physical condition. And although he was large, outweighing me by at least forty pounds, there didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on his body. Subconsciously, he commanded respect just by the bearing of his physical stature. However, his mental prowess could not be underestimated either.

At first glance, it would have been easy to trivialize him as being self-important. This look was further enhanced by his flair for fancy baubles, especially ornamental jewelry that he wore on his fingers and wrists. His knife was similar to the one that he had presented to Loté, but with many more gems imbedded in the handle. Furthermore, I had no doubt that the blade was forged from the same fine, rust-resistant steel as hers. His weapon was truly one to be envied. My own suddenly felt drab and inadequate on my side. Although I was a fond believer that it wasn't the weapon that made the man, but rather, how well the man could handle the weapon, I couldn't help feeling envious as I gazed at it. What stuck in my craw, making the envy even harder to deal with, was that I knew he could handle that fancy weapon. In fact, he could probably handle it with all the finesse that I could mine.

Hurrying along behind the young torchbearer, he didn't seem overeager to converse with me. However, he was willing to answer my questions, putting a trust in me with his answers that I didn't feel I wholly deserved. Maybe it would come to pass that I would earn this trust, but not before I first proved that I was who I claimed to be.

"I noticed that there weren't any women or children back there. Yet, there were many more braves than just a simple scouting party or trading party would require," I ventured discreetly, not wanting to create any unnecessary suspicions toward my motives or myself by asking.

His answer came almost too quickly. Either he was very naive of the possible repercussions of this knowledge should it fall into the wrong hands, or his trust in me was without bounds. I assumed it to be the latter, based on the respect that Loté had displayed for this man. Also, I found it hard to believe that he could possibly have survived this many years without the benefit of the recycling technology at his disposal if he had been a foolish and careless leader.

"Since the nuclear holocaust, following the destruction or disabling of so many nuclear reactors at the same time, we've been forced to find a new place to establish our home. Our old home was too contaminated for us to remain there. Many of our young and very old, were becoming sick there," he went on, a tint of sorrow mixed with anger in his voice. "Our women and children are currently living in a cavern that isn't large enough to house our whole tribe. However, it's much safer there than it is here. Until we can find a safe place that is large enough for all of us to live, my braves and I will operate from the cavern that we just left. In the meantime, my braves will continue taking turns between visiting their families and searching for a new home that is large enough for all." He hesitated a moment before adding, "That is how they came across you."

"Why did they have to kidnap me? Why didn't they just make contact with us so that we could join forces?" I asked brusquely, barely able to control my anger and frustration.

"That is how they were taught. It is much safer to capture one prisoner, so he can be interrogated, before making their presence known to the rest. It was just unfortunate that you hit your head so hard during your capture. If you had not been knocked unconscious, they would have learned your identity sooner. By the way, we are truly sorry for the pain that you suffered," he added with sincerity.

"I'll live," I replied flatly.

"We have lost valuable time while you remained unconscious," he added, almost as though he were trying to make me feel guilty for having been knocked out. "Let's hope we can catch up to them before they get too far ahead of us."

"If I know Loté as well as I think I do, that won't be a problem," I said confidently. "They probably turned around the minute they realized that I was no longer with them. At this very moment, they could be coming straight toward us. Or they could possibly be laying-in-wait to ambush you."

"That would be a good fortune for all concerned," he simply stated in reply. "But I highly doubt that they would have tracked my braves so easily."

Astutely, I let the comment slide. Now was neither the time nor the place to precipitate in a debate over Loté's, or anyone else's, ability to track. It wasn't that I doubted his braves' abilities to hide a trail, I just had more faith in my companions' abilities to follow one.

We maintained a mile eating pace for more than four hours before Sheesa finally called a halt. Despite his great physical condition, his advanced age was beginning to show. Briefly, I wondered what he would look like when he stepped out of an incubator, if he ever dared to enter one. In the prime of his life, he would have been more than just a force to be reckoned with. He still was today, despite his struggling for breath and profuse sweating.

"We will eat and rest before we go on," he said between gulps of air. "It is not fair that I should push a man to such extremes when he has just recovered from such a severe blow to the head. It is ungracious of me, especially since you are a guest of mine. I must apologize," he continued slowly, his breathing beginning to steady. "In my excitement to see the beautiful Loté again, I am afraid that I forgot my manners."

"Please, don't take offense on my part," I said casually. "I am just as eager to see her again as you are, if not more so."

"Holt!"

"Yes, Sheesa," replied Holt with a tip of his head.

"Take two braves with you and scout ahead. Do not return until you have news. We'll be following along shortly."

"Yes, Sheesa," he said deferentially while bowing and backing away before turning to signal the two braves that he would take with him.

Without taking a break, or even the time to eat, Holt and his two companions started down the tunnel, their footsteps fading even before their shadows.

"Is Holt your number one brave?" I asked casually, sitting with my back to the warm stone of the tunnel wall while taking the food proffered by the braves assigned to mess detail.

Sheesa was already seated and had been the first to be offered food. When I asked the question of him, he was already stuffing the tender, dried meat, into his mouth. Not bothering to finish chewing his food and swallowing it, he responded, spewing half-chewed food and saliva on me as he did so.

"Holt is my adopted heir. When I become too old and frail to carry on, he will step up and take over the throne."

"Forgive me for not understanding, but according to Loté, you still had another son. Did you not?"

"That would be Lick," he said laughingly, spewing even more food and saliva on me.

"What do you find so funny about my question?" I asked, puzzled by his response.

"Lick is the one that married Loté's friend, Rhone," he said, still chuckling to himself. "He is my wife's son. Why would he become my heir?"

"I just assumed that since he was your son it was automatic that he would inherit his father's throne. That is how it works on the planet's surface. At least with all the tribes that I am acquainted with."

"But he is not of my loins!" he answered hotly, spewing even more food and spittle. "His is the blood of some lesser individual that took advantage of my wife when she was in a weak state of mind. It is no secret that he does not possess the blood of my veins!"

"I'm sorry," I said, trying to sound more sympathetic than I truly felt. "It was wrong of me to assume that he was your son by blood."

I suddenly got the feeling that I should have kept my questions to myself, feeling the beginnings of a long boring story about to unfold.

In a solemn tone of voice, he began "It happened shortly after our marriage, before I succeeded to the throne. I had been gone for an extended length of time, busy setting up trade relations with a group of rebels that had direct access to the goods being manufactured by Lord Balzar. More concerned with establishing trade relations than I was with the welfare of my new bride, I paid the price for my neglect," he finished abruptly.

"But if Holt is not of your loins either," I asked, relieved that he had cut the story short, but still full of questions. "Then why are you punishing Lick by denying him the throne?"

"Fird should succeed to the throne. However, since he cannot, the choice is left up to me. It is entirely on my shoulders to pick my predecessor. I do not take that responsibility lightly, since it will affect the tribe for all eternity. If I select the wrong man, he may not lead as wisely as me. Not only could he bring ruin and destruction down on the tribe by making poorly thought out decisions, but possibly even the end of our tribe."

"And it is your feeling on this matter that Lick is not capable of this leadership?" I pressed.

"Lick cannot even control his own wife, how could he ever be expected to control the whole tribe, especially during a time of crisis?" he spat out disgustedly, not expecting me to answer him.

"Yes, we are experiencing a time of crisis, are we not?" was all I could think of saying as he sat staring at the wall across from him. A blank look entered his eyes and his food was left unfinished. Although he stared, he wasn't seeing the wall any more than he was listening to me.

After finishing my food in silence, I drank deeply to replace the fluids that I'd sweated out. Almost as if he could sense my mounting anxiety to be on the move again, he abruptly stood up and took off at a brisk pace, heading toward the darkness. Before I was fully erect, a brave was assisting me with my pack. Another had grabbed the torch and taken off at a run so that he could light his leader's way.

Meanwhile, the remaining braves waited on me, holding back from pursuing their leader until I led the way. They did this strictly out of respect for my position as a guest of their king.

The young torchbearer passed Sheesa and then slowed to match his leader's pace. Sheesa, walking briskly, refrained from breaking into a trot until he sensed me directly behind him. The tunnel had narrowed to the point where it was just possible for two men to pass each other, but not wide enough to accommodate two men marching abreast. I was thankful that the ceiling was high enough to permit us to walk erect without fear of scraping our heads on it. The air was also fresher than in most tunnels, a definite sign that the tunnel hadn't seen much use since its inception. Most tunnels were littered with dried piss stains, fecal matter, and sometimes even, dead and decaying bodies. Except for the fumes from the torch, this was a very pleasant tunnel to travel in, or so I was thinking when the first wave of the stench washed over us.

Quickly recognizing the stench as the same one that had made me sick prior, I cried out for the young lad with the torch. However, even before the sound had escaped my lips, I knew I was too late. Watching in helpless horror, the young brave began to stagger. Stumbling, unaware of what was happening to him, he fell to the floor. The torch fell from his grasp, sending shadows dancing and splaying off the walls.

"Retreat!" I screamed madly. "Now! Hurry! And don't breathe!"

Giving Sheesa a hard push backwards, I held my breath and ran to help the poor lad lying beside the smoldering torch. Fighting off the all too familiar effects of the stench as it burned into my eyes and inflamed my skin, I forced myself to continue to where the lad lay. One breath, and I would not be able to save him, maybe not even myself.

Kneeling down, I quickly picked him up in my arms. Without hesitating, I turned and bolted back down the tunnel to where I could barely see the others through my burning eyes. They had stopped and were looking on in confusion. Fortunately, someone had the foresight to light another torch, making it possible for me to keep my bearings and avoid banging against the side of the tunnel as I ran with the lad held across my arms. Although the light appeared fuzzy and blurred, it gave me a target to aim for. Despite the short distance, my lungs felt as though they were about to explode. Stumbling, my legs growing weak, I finally reached Sheesa and his braves.

Immediately, the young brave was snatched out of my arms as more arms reached out and held me upright. Gasping, I swallowed in lung full after lung full of clean air.

"What is it?" asked Sheesa excitedly.

"I will explain, but first we need to get out of here!" I said urgently between breaths.

At the sound of my words, the braves farther back had turned and started retreating. When we had traveled what I felt was a safe distance, I called a halt to our running. We had been going full out for a distance of several miles and everyone was panting hard and sweating from the exertion. We were all stooped over, arms outstretched to the walls or on our knees for support, waiting for our breathing to normalize and our pulses to quit racing. The young lad that I had retrieved was still alive, but I wasn't sure for how much longer. He had developed a steady, wet-sounding hack that emanated from deep within his lungs. Even more ominous, were two small trickles of blood, one running down his chin, and the other dribbling from his right ear.

Sheesa was concerned for the lad's well-being, ordering two braves to take the boy back to their temporary camp.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded, after waiting for the braves to leave with their charge.

"I'm not sure, but it may be working its way through more tunnels all the time. This is my second experience with it," I said, frustrated and angry. Suddenly, my concern was for Loté and the others. I suddenly worried that they might have run into the stench also. "Is there another way to reach the place where I was kidnapped?"

"Where are my scouts?" he suddenly asked, not acknowledging my question.

"They are probably dead," I answered him flatly.

Turning, he looked blankly through me, as if seeing me for the first time. After a long moment, he finally turned away. Taking a torch and lighting it off the lit one, he soberly announced that he would lead the way.

"I have been a poor leader of my people today. No more can die."

### **17**

It surprised me that he could display such an equal passion for all of his braves, knowing that his greatest concern was for the loss of Holt, his heir to be. It could not be a good sign that his selected heir should die before taking the throne, especially after the true heir had also perished. He was probably taking this as an omen for the future of his tribe, and there wasn't anything that anyone could say that would make him feel otherwise. As the leader of his people, it was his burden alone to bear.

With a sinking feeling, I realized that if Loté and the others had doubled back to find me, they too would have encountered the stench. And although, I wasn't overly concerned that they might be caught off guard by it, its presence meant that it would be that much harder to find them now.

After arguing vehemently with me over sending braves to retrieve the missing scout, Sheesa reluctantly gave in, and led the way back from which we had just come. He set a slow, hesitant pace, while constantly glancing back over his shoulder. It was almost as if he was expecting Holt to come running after us.

We continued at this leisurely pace for several miles, before coming to a branch that led off to the right. Without hesitating, he turned into this branch. Less than a mile farther, he turned into a switchback leading to the left. With each succeeding branch that we followed, the tunnel became narrower and the ceiling lower. I started wondering just how many more branches we could turn into before we would be forced to travel on our hands and knees.

My back felt as though it were on fire from the continually stooping posture that we were forced to assume, and my legs were beginning to develop tingling cramps. In addition, I was still in pain from the blow to my head. The top of my pate was tender to the touch, and the smaller pains from the rest of my body seemed to aggravate it severely. If I didn't straighten up soon, I was doomed to suffer permanent spine curvature, and I was about to make my opinion known to Sheesa, when he suddenly drew to a halt.

Before I could speak, his torch disappeared from sight, launching us all into darkness, while casting down a ghastly glow that landed only on Sheesa. Excitedly, we moved forward, noting that the nearer to the shaft we got, the higher the ceiling became. Within less than a minute, everyone had huddled together beneath the opening in the ceiling, standing up straight and stretching out the soreness in our strained back muscles.

Thoughts of what it would feel like when I returned to the surface danced wildly in my head. It was most imperative that I believe in the eventuality that I would return to the dense green jungles, or I would go mad. The rest of these people didn't know any different from the close confines of subterranean living and artificial light. They weren't recyclees that had been born and raised in the open greenness of the never-ending jungle. They had been born and raised in these artificial confines, never having enjoyed the experience and pleasure of living in open spaces.

But I had! I knew what it was like to live and breathe where the air wasn't tainted with torch fumes and feces. But instead, the luxuriant smell of growing foliage, clear water, and an occasional shower or gentle breeze.

Sheesa's voice suddenly broke into my reverie, bringing me crashing back to the present. He was telling me that he knew of another tunnel, running directly above this one. If it wasn't contaminated, we wouldn't lose much time by the detour, and there was a possibility that Loté and the others might have found it, also.

"Did you send word with your braves to warn the others that they should be ready to evacuate before the stench reaches them?" I asked.

"Yes, even now, as we stand here, my tribe is packed up and continuing toward the rendezvous sight. If all goes well, though, we will reach it before they do, and make sure the area is secure and safe. But first, we must find your people. My wife would not forgive me if we did not return with her favorite, Loté."

A smile came to his face as he said this. It was amazing how so few words, and such a small gesture as a smile, could do so much for the moral of his braves; their demeanor seemed to change immediately. This king of Loté's was not only an exceptional man, but also a remarkable leader. If I had any doubts before, I didn't anymore; Loté had not exaggerated when she described him to me.

With Sheesa still leading, we began the ascent of the narrow shaft. After more than an hour of strenuous climbing, we finally emerged on the floor of a large tunnel. Much to our delight, it was easily wide enough for five men to walk abreast and tall enough that even Beif wouldn't have felt the need to hunch over.

As we came out of the hole in the floor, our first reaction was to stretch our aching limbs, while drinking long and deep from the water flagons. Despite the exhaustion from the long arduous climb, a feeling of euphoria came over me. Easily, I could have brushed the feeling off as nothing more than gladness that we finally had some elbowroom. Yet, it felt like there was more to it than just that.

After giving it some thought, while waiting for the others to emerge, I determined the feeling to be based on a subconscious conclusion. Just before Sheesa's braves kidnapped me, we were also climbing up to the next level. If Loté and the others came looking for me, as I'm sure they had, they would have run into the stench. It only made sense that, if they had been forced to backtrack, it was very likely they would have climbed to this level also. All these factors, plus Sheesa's heightened mood, left me feeling giddy. Suddenly, I was positive that it was just a matter of time before we ran into them, and Loté and I would be reunited.

As anxious as I was to continue, I was forced to restrain my enthusiasm while allowing Sheesa time to rest. Despite his excellent physical condition, he was still an old man, and the climb had almost totally exhausted him. Although he slumped to the floor and rested with his back to the wall, his spirits remained high. I couldn't help but wonder that he was thinking the same thoughts as me, confident that we would run into Loté and the others very soon.

While we rested, continuing to drink fluids, Sheesa ordered a brave to scout ahead. Only then, did I become aware of the fact that the young lad that had carried the torch earlier had won the right to do so. It was a tribal custom that whenever Sheesa went on an extended journey, a young lad nearing manhood would be honored by his selection as torchbearer.

Unlike his predecessor, the young lad that Sheesa now ordered to scout ahead did not take a torch. Instead, he went swiftly and stealthily into the darkness. By Sheesa's judgment, he had earned the right to be a scout.

"We will wait here and rest until he returns," Sheesa casually stated as he closed his eyes and proceeded to take a nap.

The feeling of giddy anticipation that I had been experiencing was quickly being replaced with one of irritable impatience. When I attempted to follow Sheesa's lead, and catch some shuteye, it quickly became obvious that sleep was to be denied me in my present state of mind. Quietly, so as not to disturb the more fortunate, I got to my feet and ventured slowly into the darkness, away from the feeble light of the torch that was left burning.

After traveling less than fifty feet, I began to worry that I shouldn't have left my pack behind. It wasn't very likely that I would become separated from Sheesa and his braves. But if I should, I wouldn't last very long without the supplies contained within it. Cursing myself for not thinking, I was turning to go back when Sheesa's scout came charging out of the darkness at a full out run. Outlined as I was against the feeble torch light, he could see me long before I could make out his lithe figure against the inky backdrop of the tunnel's darkness.

"Captain Rodick," he said breathlessly, as he pulled up in front of me. "Quick, we must warn the others!"

"What! What is it?"

"Creatures! Many foul and evil creatures coming!"

"Go! Hurry! Warn the others. I will scout ahead," I said, giving him a gentle push onward.

Clones! They must be clones, I thought angrily to myself as I drew my long-knife. Silently, I slid along the tunnel wall, being careful not to silhouette myself against the torchlight coming from behind me. I had barely covered thirty feet when I smelled an odor not unlike rotting flesh. Sheesa had wisely extinguished the torch. Nevertheless, I remained with my back pressed hard against the wall on my right, leaving my right arm forward and ready for battle.

Slowly, I crouched down to where the wall met the floor, ready to spring into action. As the scent grew stronger, I could detect a trace of fresh blood intermingled with it. Straightaway, I assumed the worse; the taint of fresh blood was coming from their blood-covered bodies. A raging anger mixed with sorrow flooded through me, as I considered the possibility that I smelled the blood of my friends.

With a new resolve, I pushed off from the wall and stepped into the center of the tunnel, daring the creatures to attack, and give me a chance to avenge my fallen friends. Planting my feet firmly, I withdrew my short-bladed knife from the sheath hanging on my right hip, and held it firmly in my left hand. In my rage and anger, I was determined to kill every last one of the damn creatures. My own life seemed like a small price to pay, if it meant an end to this unholy madness. Besides, I thought dejectedly, without Loté, life isn't worth living!

The sound of approaching feet was rapidly growing, as I stood my ground, my senses straining to make out the advancing enemy in the dark. In a sadistic way, I was looking forward to the blood bath that was about to ensue. Outraged at what I presumed to be the loss of my friends, I not only wanted, but also needed revenge. So badly did I need it, I could hardly restrain myself from charging the coming mass of stinking flesh. My muscles were quivering and my breath was whistling through clenched teeth; I was ready for this battle like none before it.

Suddenly, and not without a small amount of disappointment, I realized that I had been joined by Sheesa and several of his braves. They had taken up positions on either side of me, effectively blocking the tunnel. Though I was unable to see their faces in the dark, I could still tell it was Sheesa standing to my right by his pungent body odor.

This was confirmed by the sound of his voice as he whispered softly, "They have the scent of fresh blood in their nostrils. They will fight like crazed animals."

"And soon they will die like crazed animals with the taste of their own blood strong on their palates," I spat.

The words had no sooner left my lips, than the first of the beings came rushing at us, materializing like demons out of the dark. Much to my amazement and chagrin, Sheesa and his braves fought with the same zealous rage as I. Almost silently, bereft of any screams or battle cries, all shapes and forms of creatures came hurdling at us from the dark. A few were brandishing knives and spears, but most were reliant on their teeth and claw-like fingers. Whenever a creature succeeded in getting past our line of defense, usually injuring or maiming a brave in the process, another brave would quickly dispatch of the being before taking his fallen comrade's place. By such actions, we were effective in preventing any of the evil beings from getting behind us.

The battle was over much too quickly to satiate my lust for revenge, though it left us and the tunnel floors and walls, covered in the sickly-sweet smell of fresh blood. We were fortunate in that we suffered only one fatality, thanks mostly to the inept and unorganized manner in which the soulless beings had attacked us. A torch was lit and Sheesa quickly saw to the cleansing and disinfecting of the many claw scratches and teeth marks left on his braves.

While they were busy tending to their wounds, I scouted beyond the melee. With the aid of a small torch, I went looking for signs that would indicate if more creatures might still be coming. But more important, I went looking for signs of Loté and my friends.

With my pack securely fastened in place, I carried the torch in my left hand while I retained my small knife in my right. The long-knife had been cleaned and returned to its sheath immediately after the battle. Stepping over the carnage on the tunnel floor, I glanced briefly at the many bodies. In the dim light cast by the little flame, I couldn't help but notice many similarities among the gruesome creatures. Even more disturbing to me than just the similarities they shared between themselves, was the common similarity they shared with a close friend of mine, Keazar.

Shaking the thought off with a shrug of my shoulders, I proceeded down the tunnel, my former anxiety returning at the thought of finding Loté.

After a slow and cautious start, I quickly found myself hurrying along at a brisk trot. Until I came to a branch or fork in the tunnel, I knew that if I got too far ahead, I could rest and wait for Sheesa and his braves to catch up.

After almost an hour of uneventful travel, I came to my first branch. With the aid of the torch, I studied the opening with scrutiny. When my eyes were unable to detect any evidence of recent travel, I got down on my knees and sniffed along the floor and sides. After sniffing around until I was lightheaded, my nostrils had been assailed with nothing more than warm putrid air mixed with the courser smell of flint. The latter was nothing more than a residual odor left over from the use of flint tools, employed when the tunnel had first been carved. It was prevalent in varying degrees throughout all of the hand-hewn tunnels.

There wasn't any of the lingering smell of decaying flesh or fresh blood that permeated the tunnel that I was currently in, so I laid a marker at the opening, indicating that I had continued past it. While I dug through my pack for something to eat before starting forward again, it suddenly dawned on me that I had not slept for many hours. All the exertions of late, between the battle with the clones and the relentless travel through the tunnels to find Loté, were taking a tremendous toll on my body. Moreover, my head still ached from the blow I'd suffered earlier.

Without warning, my legs started quivering beneath me, no longer able to support my weight. With all the finesse of a corpse, I dropped to the tunnel floor, landing hard on my ass. Had it not been for the desensitized state of my body, the pain of impact would have been excruciating. Instead, I numbly pulled myself over to the wall of the tunnel and immediately fell off to asleep.

Feeling as though I had hardly closed my eyes, I was suddenly being shaken awake by a rough hand on my shoulder. Slowly, I pried my eyes open, fearing the bright light being cast by a large torch. With a firm grip on my upper arm, I was pulled roughly to my feet by one of Sheesa's larger braves, while the others milled around, completely disinterested.

"It didn't take you guys long to get here," I said groggily, pulling my arm away from the brave's grasp with a jerk that nearly cost me my balance.

"Now that you have rested," said Sheesa as he looked into the branching fork of the tunnel. "Maybe we should eat before we continue."

It was more of an order than a question, and his braves quickly undid their packs, and set about preparing a quick meal. Their adeptness at using the torch to warm food, while not sacrificing any of the light, was impressive. By the time I returned from venturing down the tunnel from which we had come, out of consideration for the others, food was being served. As was custom, Sheesa was waited on by his braves. Since I was considered a guest of his, I was accorded the same treatment. However, I sensed just a small amount of resentment at this privileged treatment. They clearly blamed me for the separation that they were experiencing from their loved ones, even though it was their leader, Sheesa, who had commandeered this mission to find Loté.

Sheesa's earlier good spirits belied the true strain of the situation. He was every bit as aware of this feeling of resentment toward me as I was. Everyone ate in silence, the braves engaging in very little conversation, even amongst themselves. The food tasted good, warmed up, and I ate hungrily, even feeling a bit disappointed when it was gone. Sheesa, on the other hand, ate sparingly, picking at his food without really being aware of it. He had a lot on his mind, and I found myself feeling just a bit sorry for him. Despite being anxious to find Loté, his real concerns had to be for the loss of his selected heir, and the eventual disposition of his tribe.

Because he didn't seem overly concerned about the latter, I assumed he knew of the place where they were going, and felt confident that they would be safe there. His largest crisis right now lay in the fact that he had no heir. This was a serious matter, where he was concerned. If something should happen to him, and he should die before he could select another, there would be great turmoil and fighting among his tribe's braves. In addition, if he didn't select an heir, his wife would become nothing more to the tribe than just another elderly woman. Immediately, she would lose her status as queen, and all the privileges that went with the position.

In addition, the fighting that would ensue within his tribe would be a distraction that it could ill afford during this crucial time. If not settled quickly, it could even lead to the end of the last great tribe of people that lived beneath the surface of Heälf. Eventually, they might be reduced to little more than tunnel-scavengers, forced to work hard at scraping out an existence that would barely reflect the status they now enjoy.

"We must go," he said suddenly, as if just awakening from a dream. "Time is crucial."

Without waiting, he took off at a brisk walk. Jumping to my feet, I hurriedly caught up to him, slinging my pack over my shoulder as I went. Just as swiftly, his braves slung their respective packs over their shoulders and fell in behind us. Although it had not been discussed, we remained in the tunnel that we had been in prior, leaving the branch behind us.

Without needing to be told, a brave took off at a fast trot, passing us as he headed into the darkness of the tunnel that lay before us. He did not carry a torch to light his way. But instead, depended upon a highly developed sense of smell and keen hearing to warn him of any approaching danger. Until Sheesa determined that it was time for another rest, this brave would set a pace that would keep him just ahead of our torchlight. Although we would not be able to see him, he would be close enough to yell out a warning that we could hear.

Sheesa set a swifter pace than he had earlier, letting his newfound urgency take control of his limbs. Although it wasn't very wise of me to waste my breath on conversation, especially since Sheesa was not in a vocal mood, I still had a tremendous desire to speak with him. Somehow, I needed to make him aware that I would not be offended if he decided to take his braves and leave me to proceed on this journey alone. If our roles had been reversed, I couldn't truthfully say that I would have put the ultimate safety of my tribe before another commitment.

"Sheesa," I said between breaths. "Hear me out."

Slowly, so that I wouldn't wind myself with the effort, I proceeded to explain my feelings to him. Under the circumstances, I had to repeat myself on several points, hoping to make myself clear. When I finished, he was quick to respond.

"We are both bound to the same direction, my friend," he replied between breaths. "If that were not so, I would have considered an alternative action long before now."

"I am glad to hear that," I solemnly replied, feeling a slight amount of relief. "I would not want to be the cause of any more bloodshed among your people than I already am."

"Do not worry about my people. They can take care of themselves just fine."

"I didn't mean to imply otherwise," I started to say, when he quickly cut me off.

"Then don't worry about my people! It seems you have your own to see to."

"Yes, you are right," I said softly, not sure, nor caring, whether he heard me or not.

We maintained the brisker pace for almost six hours before coming to the next fork in the tunnel. This one led off to the left. Sheesa's scout was sitting directly across from the opening with his back to the wall. At our approach, he slowly rose to his feet and faced his leader.

"Sir," he started nervously, clearly intimidated by having to address his king. "Many beings have come this way."

What he told us only confirmed our own conclusions. We were entering an area of increased traffic; we would have to maintain a constant vigil if we didn't want to be caught unawares.

Walking a short way into the branch, I noted that it was roughly the same size as the one in which we were currently traveling. I hadn't gone far, when I detected a new scent intermingling with the familiar smells of decaying flesh and human feces. It was very faint to my senses, so I ask the scout to confirm it. Although I couldn't place it, there was something familiar about the odor.

The scout walked into the mouth of the tunnel, stopping when he had gone the same distance as I had. Then, much as an animal might on the scent of its prey, he began sniffing at the air. Dropping to his knees, he continued to sniff along the floor, moving from one side of the tunnel and then to the other. After several minutes of this, he slowly rose to his feet, and then came back to the opening where I awaited his assessment.

"There have been many beings similar to the ones that we killed back there," he said, indicating the direction from which we had just come. "But mixed in with those odors is the smell of a woman."

"A woman!" I exclaimed excitedly.

"It is very faint, but it is on top of the other, more familiar scents. She would've had to come by here after the last passing of the evil beings."

"Which way was she traveling?" Sheesa demanded excitedly, moving up to stand beside me.

"That way," said the brave, pointing in the direction that we were already traveling.

"How long has it been since she passed this way? Can you tell?" I asked anxiously. "And was she alone, or were there others with her?"

"I can clearly see that she was the last to pass this way, and that there was only one woman," he stated, all hints of his prior nervousness replaced with beaming pride. Then he soberly added, "If she was accompanied, it was by the soulless beings, there are no other scents."

"Quick, then! We must catch this woman before she can get too far!" ordered Sheesa, the excitement all too evident in his voice.

"She could not possibly travel as fast as us, and she would have to take continual precautions against being discovered," I said, thinking out loud as I considered the situation the woman must be experiencing.

Instead of wasting precious breath replying to my comment, Sheesa set off at a brisk trot. The pace he set was even too fast for the poor scout to gain much of a lead, as he remained visible to us at the fringe of our torchlight. Knowing this pace would quickly fatigue Sheesa, I debated telling him that he should pace himself. There was a good chance that we wouldn't catch up with our quarry anytime soon, and what we gained now, we would only lose because of having to rest. Instead, I kept my thoughts to myself, while considering the possibility that he would only take offense at my suggestion. He would probably misinterpret my meaning as a cheap shot at his advancing age and diminishing physical endurance.

We had barely covered a mile's distance when we came to another branch, this one leading off to the right. As we approached, the scout came walking slowly out of it, still breathing hard from the exertion.

"What is it?" asked Sheesa of his scout, alarm tingeing the edge of his voice as he got a good look at the pale sheen on his scout's face.

"Dead," was all he managed to say before I rushed past him, with Sheesa and the torchbearer following close behind.

The opening led into a cavern of considerable size. Quite possibly, it had been the ballroom of a mighty lord at one time. Now, however, it had been reduced to being used as an open tomb for innumerable dead. It was a sad fact of my life that I had been a witness to so much death. It was a sadder fact that the sight before me now was not the worse that I had ever seen. However, this poor scout, who was not much more than a lad, was not accustomed to such sights. Judging from the fresh vomit just inside the opening, he had barely entered the cavern when the smell of death overpowered his keen senses.

Although I wasn't as easily influenced by the sight before me, I still had a strong desire to turn and leave the scene behind. Unfortunately, I had questions that required answers; answers that I was only going to find by taking a closer look at the decaying bodies.

"You can wait for me out in the tunnel," I said to Sheesa, as I took the torch from the brave standing behind us. He willingly gave it up without waiting for a signal from Sheesa. However, he did wait until Sheesa agreed to my suggestion before hightailing it out of the cavern.

Moving toward the nearer mound of decaying bodies, I started by looking closely for any signs of deformity that might have existed before their deaths. After a hasty examination, I came to an appalling conclusion with regard to their common demise; they had all been executed.

All the wounds were the same; they were much too precisely duplicated to have been received in battle. There was further evidence to suggest that the bodies had been brought here from somewhere else. The overall impression suggested that they had been placed in here with at least some amount of care, and not just thrown in randomly. Judging by the height to which the bodies were stacked, I decided that they must have used some type of scaffolding to achieve it. There had to be more than one thousand bodies in all stages of decay, the most recent being less than two days old.

The next thing that caught my attention was the fact that all the visible bodies were naked, none of them possessed weapons, or even so much as an empty sheathe. I didn't have the stomach to dig into the stacks to see if this were the case throughout.

After taking one last look around, I rejoined Sheesa and his braves in the tunnel.

"What do you think?" he asked, while I handed the torch back to the brave from which I had borrowed it.

"Those are the bodies of what were once decent human beings, not soulless creatures like we've been fighting. It would appear that they were killed elsewhere and then deposited here. None that I could see had any weapons or personal items about them. My guess is that the last ones were deposited here as recently as four days ago, maybe less."

"Those could be my people in there," said Sheesa solemnly. "We must put a stop to this madness before more innocent people die!"

"Yes, they could be. However, I didn't see any female bodies. More than likely, they're the bodies of recycled soldiers that wouldn't pledge their allegiance to Jontue," I solemnly offered.

"You must explain what Jontue has to do with clones when we have more time," Sheesa said flatly, his gaze never straying from mine. "I feel you know more about what is going on than you have disclosed."

It was an out and out challenge, one that demanded an answer. And yet, he had given me an out; he said he would wait until we had time to talk.

Realizing that anything I said would sound insincere, I was immensely relieved when the scout excitedly interrupted us. "The woman continued this way. Her scent is stronger. We must be gaining on her." He was eager to put as much distance between this cavern of death and himself as possible, and if Sheesa and the ex-pilot wanted to talk, they could do it later.

Nodding to the scout, the lad took off at a trot. Instead of immediately following, we waited a moment for him to establish a safe distance ahead of us so that our light would not silhouette him to any danger he might encounter. While we waited, Sheesa drank deeply from his water flagon. When he finished quenching his thirst, we set off at a fast trot, following behind the scout. Along the way, we came across much evidence of heavy traffic. In addition to the normal refuse left in the tunnels, there was also a lot of dried blood, not to mention the occasional corpse that hadn't made it to the mass tomb. In all outward appearances, Sheesa was taking all this in stride, but I could tell his braves were growing edgy. It showed in their eyes and the furtive way they kept glancing back over their shoulders.

We passed several more caverns, but didn't stop for more than a moment at each, and then only to make sure of what was inside. I didn't say anything to Sheesa or his braves, but I knew that someday, someone would be picking through the bones of these tombs, recycling the poor souls that lay within. It would be a major undertaking. But, it was one that needed doing if life in this planet was to continue.

We caught up to the scout again as he waited outside another opening, this one a branch leading off to our left. When I went up to it, I saw that it doubled back on itself, making it impossible to see any distance without actually entering it. Turning, I signaled for the brave with the torch. Before he reached the mouth of the tunnel, though, the scout suddenly raised a hand in warning, indicating for all to be silent.

Freezing in our tracks, we strained our ears to hear what the scout had heard, but there was only silence. Careful not to make any sound, I drew my knife and cautiously slipped into the mouth of the tunnel. Although I didn't ask him to, the scout followed close behind. Holding my hands up in front of me, I worked my way along the tunnel wall by feel. Less than six feet inside, the tunnel turned sharply to the left. Less than ten feet farther, it turned sharply back on itself to the right. From this point on it was impossible to see, the light from the tunnel was abruptly cut off from us. Keeping my hand to the wall, I continued to inch forward, holding my knife out in front of me, ready for anything.

Stepping lightly on the balls of my feet so as not to make a sound, my right foot suddenly caught under a soft, pliable object. Before I could catch myself, I was falling forward, my hands grabbing helplessly at the air to break my fall.

Even before my hands connected with the hard stone of the tunnel floor, I recognized that it was a body that had caused me to trip. However, because I didn't know if it belonged to a friend or a foe, or even if it was dead or alive, for that matter, I quickly rolled away to the right. Springing cat-like to my feet, I turned to confront it, my knife held at the ready.

Standing poised and alert, I suddenly heard a low moaning sound coming from where the body lay up against the tunnel wall. The sound tore at my decency as it begged for help and mercy on a primal level. Quickly sheathing my knife, I responded to the cry for help. It suddenly ceased to matter whether it was a friend or a foe, but only that it was a living, human being in severe agony.

Moving toward the source of the tortured sound, it was with some surprise when I realized the size of the prostrate form.

"Give me a hand over here," I said urgently to the scout, after realizing that I couldn't carry him out to the tunnel alone. "Let's get him out in the light so we can see where he's injured."

Between the two of us, we managed to carry the man back to the tunnel where Sheesa and his braves were waiting. As we came out into the torchlight, I looked down into the man's face and almost lost my grip, as recognition swept over me.

"Keazar!" I cried out joyously. "Set him down, over here!" I ordered excitedly, as I gently lowered his head to the stone floor.

Keazar's eyes fluttered at the sound of my voice. He was alive!

"Do you know this man?" asked Sheesa, perplexed by my sudden display of emotion.

"It is Keazar, a true friend of mankind," I said with a mixture of pride and joy, while checking my long lost friend over to determine his condition. "Give me some water, he's dehydrated."

A brave quickly handed over a flagon and I poured water into Keazar's mouth until he started gagging. Giving him a second to swallow, I poured more water into his mouth until he weakly pushed the flagon away, protesting that I was trying to drown him. Sheesa, meanwhile, had been searching through his pack and now produced several tablets that he held out to me.

"Here, give him these. They will allow his body to more readily absorb the water and combat the effects of dehydration."

"Thanks," I replied sincerely before pushing them into Keazar's mouth and forcing him to swallow.

"He will need to rest for at least an hour or more while the tablets do their work," added Sheesa, obviously troubled by the loss of time this meant.

Before Sheesa had a chance to voice his opinion further, I quickly suggested that I would carry my friend. This evoked a small chuckle from him as he looked at Keazar's bulk.

"I will not slow you!" I protested, feeling the anger rising in my chest. "Maybe it would be better if you and your braves went on ahead. We can catch up to you later, when he's feeling better." After hesitating a moment, I added in a serious tone, "I realize that we have gained on the female. It is not lightheartedly that I make the choice to remain here with my friend. However, he would not abandon me if our roles were reversed. How can I abandon him?"

"We will not abandon him. That was never an option!" Sheesa quickly fired back, anger showing at the edges of his voice. After a moment he added, "If we could find the materials, maybe we could build a stretcher on which to carry your friend."

"We could probably construct a stretcher of sorts by tying leg bones together," I sheepishly volunteered, humbled by Sheesa's sudden outburst. "I have some strong cord in my pack that we could use for lashing."

"It beats the alternative," he quickly replied, his spirits visibly lifting.

Immediately, he ordered several of his braves to return to the last cavern that we'd passed, and to bring back as many thighbones as they could carry. Then, after glancing down at Keazar, he added as an afterthought, "Bring only the largest ones that you can find!"

While they were gone, I tended to Keazar. It appeared that most of his discomfort was being caused by the dehydration. Despite the ugliness of his left side of his body, the wounds were mostly superficial and non-life threatening. His stomach was filling with water faster than he could absorb it into his system, but Sheesa assured me his discomfort would quickly pass when the pills started taking effect. He was too weak to speak, but I could see the relief in his eyes and the joy that he was feeling at being reunited with a friend.

Several times, he attempted to speak, and several times, I had to tell him to be patient. At first, I thought he was just trying to express his relief and joy. But his persistence told me it was more important than that. Whatever it was, though, it would have to wait.

The braves returned with their grisly burden of bones. After laying them out on the tunnel floor, I quickly bound them with the cord. It would not be a very comfortable travois, since we had nothing with which to cover the bones. I knew Keazar wouldn't complain, though, even if he could. And hopefully, the ride would be a short one, before he would be walking on his own again.

With Keazar laid out on the travois, I picked up the end by his head and fell in at the rear behind Sheesa and his braves. Sheesa sent the usual scout on ahead, and while we waited for him to get a safe distance from our torch light, ordered four of his braves to carry the travois. I insisted that Keazar was my responsibility, and that I should be the one to bear his burden, but he wouldn't listen. Instead, he asked that I remain in the lead with him.

"If we come across any more of your friends, it would be better for all of us if we recognized each other. We were fortunate that your friend Keazar was unable to fight, or my brave may have killed him before we knew who he was," he quickly stated before I could argue with him.

Whether I agreed or disagreed, I knew it was a futile argument.

"Thank you, your Highness," I said solemnly and respectfully as I fell in beside him.

With the four braves carrying Keazar, our pace was almost as fast as it was prior to finding him. We'd lost close to half an hour, all told. Nevertheless, it was a break we all needed. We had been traveling for more than an hour when I heard Keazar's first words. He was telling the braves to put him down while simultaneously calling out my name. Sheesa gave a sharp whistle to alert his scout that we were stopping, and then turned and followed me back to where the braves had set the stretcher down.

"Keazar!" I said excitedly, when I saw him sitting up on the makeshift travois.

"My good friend!" he said hoarsely, but still sounding jovial. "So how is it that we have come to this, cavorting with savages?"

Looking apologetically at Sheesa and his braves, I said, "He is not himself yet, he knows not what he says."

"I know full well what I say!" he said even louder, taking on an argumentative tone. "We have been reduced to associating with rebel savages."

"Keazar, these men just saved your life!" I said firmly, moving to put my face directly in front of his. "You owe them an apology and a thank you. If you don't feel that way, than maybe you are not the Keazar that I know and respect. Maybe you are nothing more than a cheap imitation, a damn soulless clone!"

"You are right, my good friend. I don't know what came over me. Please, don't ever call me a clone again," he said sincerely. "I apologize for my rude behavior. Truly, I didn't mean to call anyone a rebel or a savage. I am actually honored to make your acquaintance, all of you," he added, as he looked up at the braves that had gathered in a circle around us.

"Allow me to introduce you to King Sheesa," I said, nodding toward Sheesa.

"Yes, I know now!" Keazar spluttered excitedly, as his face lit up with recognition at the name. "Loté has told us all about you, your Highness. I am more than honored to finally meet you face to face."

"Your reputation precedes you, Keazar," said Sheesa amicably.

"All good, I hope," he replied laughingly.

"We'll discuss that sometime," Sheesa replied sarcastically, yet good-naturedly.

"I'm sure the two of you are going to be great friends," I interrupted impatiently, when it appeared the two of them were going to exchange meaningless niceties forever. "But we have more pressing issues to attend to. Could you tell us how you got here, for one?"

"Jontue!" he started, a bitterness creeping into his straining voice. "He was using my tissue for cloning." He paused to swallow and take a breath before continuing. "One of his lab idiots got a bit over zealous and killed me." A grin turned up the corners of his mouth as he continued. "With all the clones of me being produced, there was no way for Jontue to know which one had captured my soul. I managed to escape, though not very well, and then you found me."

When he finished his narrative, he fell back against the wall, his efforts quickly fatiguing him.

"You call this escaping," I chuckled. Then, in a more serious tone of voice, I asked of him, "It wasn't you that drowned in the lake, was it?" I knew what his answer would be even before he uttered a word.

"I'm sorry, my good friend, but what lake?" he asked innocently.

"Never mind. It's not important. What is important is that we find Loté and the others. Do you think you can walk?"

"Help me to my feet and we'll see," he said bravely, holding out a hand for assistance to his feet.

Once on his feet, he said he would run if it meant finding Loté and Linit that much sooner. Looking at Sheesa out of the corner of my eye, I suggested to Keazar that he watch what he says. Knowing the urgency and stamina of Sheesa, I feared that we would be running just as soon as Keazar was able, if not before. The braves quickly undid the travois and returned the valuable cord to me. The bones were left where they lay, as we started again on our quest to find Loté and the rest of our friends.

### **18**

What Keazar lacked in physical ability, due to the combination of his obesity and weakened condition, he more than made up for with his unbound enthusiasm. His excitement and joy at having been found and rescued by friends were of such a magnitude that it was inevitable that they would rub off on the rest of us. As the dehydration tablets started working on him, his former energy and strength quickly returned, and we slowly increased our speed. In fact, Sheesa had increased the pace to the point where we had to slow down out of fear of overtaking the scout. We were entering increasingly dangerous territory; the chance of encountering unfriendly beings was growing with each step that we took.

This ever-present threat, in combination with our anticipation and growing expectation of meeting up with Loté and the others, had us torn in two different directions. We could either increase our speed, and thus increase our chances of running headlong into trouble, or decrease it, and proceed with more caution, thus increasing the time before we found Loté and the others. Despite Sheesa's adeptness at pushing his braves to their utmost speed, while still maintaining a certain degree of caution, my impatience left anything short of a flat-out run feeling slow and inadequate.

Suddenly, without any warning of their presence, we burst upon the scene of several malformed creatures working over the poor scout's mutilated body. With no time to grasp the full intent of the situation, we drew our knives and attacked. We hit them hard and viciously, and though they must have seen the light of our torch coming at them, they didn't pay us any mind until it was too late to react.

We made quick work of the creatures, ruthlessly dispatching of them with a minimum amount of effort. Almost before it began, the battle was over. Excluding the death of the scout, we suffered no new casualties, not even so much as a scratch.

Sheesa took the loss of the young scout hard, as he knelt over the mutilated body with tears running down his cheeks. Although I felt for him, I knew that what he was experiencing was just another of the many responsibilities that came with being the tribe's leader.

"What are these unholy beings?" he asked, rising woodenly to his feet, suddenly looking much older than even his advanced years.

Keazar answered him before I could think of a proper explanation. "They are the spawn of an evil man that will stop at nothing to achieve his goal," he stated softly.

"What goal could be worth such a terrible price?" he asked of no one in particular, as he turned away from us and started forward in the direction that we had been traveling.

Another brave quickly took off at a trot, assuming that he would replace the scout that had been killed, when Sheesa suddenly cried out, ordering him to stop. "From now on, we continue with caution! Where one goes, we all go!" he stated vehemently.

Seeing that their leader had stopped, the braves used the time to retrieve the fallen weapons from the dead. They distributed these equally among themselves before offering Keazar the finest long-knife of the lot. Keazar accepted the offer graciously and quickly fastened the knife and sheath around his waist. Under normal circumstances, the dead scout's personal effects and property would have reverted to the King. However, upon being handed the scout's pack, Sheesa quickly instructed the brave to assist in lengthening the straps so that they would be more comfortable for Keazar.

Meanwhile, Keazar was visibly affected by this open display of generosity that was so freely given to him. Because Sheesa and his people had never used Keazar's recycling services, Keazar was little more than a stranger to them. Yet, they graciously accepted him into their fold, treating him as if he were one of their own. This was not a gesture made for my sake, or on my behalf. But rather, because that's the kind of people they were. Ever more, I was beginning to understand why Sheesa's tribe had flourished, while many others had perished in the face of adversity.

"We must hurry before more come," I suggested hastily, feeling the moment turning awkward.

Without any further words, Sheesa turned back in the direction that we had been traveling and started cautiously forward. We left the bodies where they lay, including that of the scout's. Though we were proceeding toward the lab that Keazar had escaped from, there was no guarantee that we would get the chance to recycle him. To carry him was out of the question, and yet, it was a difficult choice to simply leave him behind.

Moving quickly, before the others could get too far ahead, I pulled the body up next to the wall of the tunnel and placed the disfigured corpses on top of it, making sure that it was completely hidden from sight.

By the time I had finished, Sheesa and the others were several hundred feet down the tunnel. They had traded the large torch for a small one and already the flickering light was growing faint in the distance. Knowing it would only take a few minutes at a dead run to catch up to them, I decided to clean my hands first, before the blood had a chance to dry and crust. The effort of moving the corpses had left me sweating, so I took advantage of the situation, and grabbed a quick swallow of water. Moving forward at a slow walk, I had just removed the flagon from my pack and was about to drink, when I heard the distant sound of footfalls.

Someone, or something, was quickly approaching from our rear. Frozen in the darkness, I studied the sound for a moment, easily determining that it was an individual, and not an army.

Returning the flagon to my pack, I silently worked my way back to the pile of corpses while drawing my long-knife. Crouching down low behind them, I patiently waited, my legs cocked beneath me and ready to pounce on the approaching person as they went by.

Listening to the rapidly approaching footsteps, I decided that my trap would have a better chance of succeeding, if I took their feet out from under them. It wasn't my intention to kill them until I knew who they were. Moving quickly, I dragged the top corpse from the pile that I had just meticulously built, and laid it across the tunnel floor. At the dangerous speed that the approaching runner was traveling, in the absolute darkness of the tunnel, they would trip over the corpse and fall headlong before realizing that it was there. Once they were on the floor, I could easily overpower them.

I had no sooner positioned the body and retreated to my hiding place behind the remaining corpses, when the lone traveler arrived. As if on cue, I heard the runner's foot strike against the still-soft flesh of the corpse. Almost simultaneously, I heard the exhalation of breath associated with surprise. Less than a fraction of a second after that, I heard the slap of hands against stone as the runner landed hard on the tunnel floor.

With my long-knife drawn, I pounced, guesstimating the distance to the spot on the floor where the runner had fallen. To my surprise and bewilderment, I landed hard on the bare stone of the floor!

Frantically, I realized that my opponent had sensed the trap that I had set for him, and not simply assumed that it was a mere obstacle in his path. To my chagrin and alarm, my ambush attempt was a bust.

But where had he gone? Since there wasn't enough time to regain his feet before I pounced, he could only have rolled to one side or the other. We hadn't collided with one another as I lunged out from behind the corpses, so there was only one other place that he could be, against the far wall!

Spinning on the balls of my feet, I rocked back on my heels, bringing my long-knife up before me. It was strictly an instinctive move, placing the blade defensively in front of my face, and not a moment too soon. My quarry had likewise anticipated my next move, slashing the air where he anticipated me to be. Our knives connected with the hollow ring of hardened steel on hardened steel. From years of living on the edge and never backing down from a challenge, I pushed off with the balls of my feet, driving my opponent's weapon back and up. It gave way before me almost too easily, and I immediately suspected he was feigning to draw me in close. Yet, with our arms locked high over our heads, I rose to my full height and drove him backwards, taking full advantage of the situation, but ready for the low driving thrust toward my guts.

But the short-bladed thrust from below our long-bladed parlance never came, as I continued driving him hard, easily keeping him off balance.

We continued our dance of death, with me leading hard, until his weapon struck against the rock of the tunnel wall with a clang. With my body hard up against his, I pinned him flat against the warm stone of the wall. His breath was hot in my face, as I forced my wrist harder against his, hoping to break his hold on the weapon, while grasping for his other wrist with my free hand.

When I couldn't find the hand that I suspected of holding the short-bladed dirk or dagger, I reached up and grabbed hold of the wrist that held his long-knife with my left hand. With daring speed, I dropped my right hand, bringing my blade down in a move that took my opponent by surprise. Before he could react, my knife was firmly pressed against the tender flesh of his throat; if he breathed too heavily, the force of his skin against the keen edge of my blade would open his throat like an overripe fruit.

As we stood face to face, our mouths only inches apart, I suddenly realized that my opponent had breasts, large, firm, breasts, pressing hard against my own sweat-covered chest. Relaxing my stance, I forced my right knee between my opponent's thighs and lifted it upward. At the last moment, I held up, being careful not to cause undue pain or injury. My intention was only to verify whether it was a real woman or not. I had seen several clones already with enlarged fat pockets on their chests that could easily have passed for breasts in the dark.

My suspicions were quickly verified. Even with the poor sense of touch on the forefront of my knee, I recognized the familiar hair-covered mound between her legs for what it was!

My actions surprised her even more than if I had pulled another knife and stabbed her with it. Letting my leg slide back down the length of her thigh, she let out a soft guttural moan from deep within her throat.

"Drop the knife, and I promise that I won't hurt you," I said softly, almost whispering the command into her right ear.

The words had no sooner left my lips, than I could feel the tension flowing from her body. The long-knife slid from her grasp, striking the floor with a clang.

"Who are you?" I asked with trepidation, afraid to get my hopes up. Relaxing my grip on her, I stepped back.

"It's I, Lover," she saucily replied.

"Loté!" I cried out excitedly, while lowering my weapon and throwing my arms around her, "Is it you? Is it really you?"

"Of course it's I, who else would it be?" she quipped, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me tighter into her embrace.

Wanting to hold her forever, I felt remorse and an acute sense of loss, when she pulled herself away from my resisting arms.

Anxious to hear everything, I blurted, "How did you get here? We've been searching for you! Where are the others?"

"Who cares where they are," she said huskily, stepping in closer. "Right now, it's just you and me, stud."

Gently, she reached down and, taking my manhood in her right hand, eased herself down onto her knees in front of me. "I've missed you, baby," she said breathlessly, slowly sliding her lips over my hardening manhood. As she slipped her tongue moistly around its circumference, letting it linger in just the right places, my blood started simmering, and my loins grew tighter by the second.

Despite the feeling of euphoria that was coming over me, I couldn't shake the impression in the back of my mind that something was wrong. This was so unlike the Loté that I knew. It was completely out of character for her; she wouldn't act like this. Although we were both excited to see each other, there were too many unanswered questions hanging in the air. This wasn't the time or place, and Keazar hadn't added any aphrodisiacs to the air, as he had done once before.

"Loté," I pleaded, grabbing her head between my hands.

My actions only seemed to spur her on. Instead of relinquishing her hold on me, she started sucking harder, pulling me deeper into her mouth and down her throat.

"Loté! Stop!" I cried out, pulling her face out of my crotch by grasping a handful of hair and yanking upwards.

"No!" she screamed, suddenly furious and hurt. Before I could react, she grabbed my penis between her hands and yanked with all the passion of the moment.

Suddenly, and with tremendous disappointment, I realized that she was not my Loté!

With a flush of pain, all doubts were quickly dispelled. It couldn't have hurt any worse if she had stuck a knife in my belly. Without thinking, but acting solely on reflex, I drew my dirk and stabbed it into her throat before she could unman me.

She immediately released my penis, and grabbed at the gaping wound in her throat. Her blood was spraying everywhere, her grasping hands unable to stem the flow. Bubbling up her throat and filling her mouth, she gagged on the viscous fluid, making it impossible to draw air into her lungs. But her struggle was short-lived, her body quickly losing the ability to sustain itself due to a lack of oxygen and the tremendous loss of blood. Pleadingly, her eyes looked up at me, questioning, bewildered. I could taste the salty sweetness of her blood in my mouth as it mingled with the sweat flowing down my face.

In shock, I stepped back from her; I was suddenly horrified by the fact that I had just killed the woman that I loved. In my moment of grief and shock, I was not aware of Keazar and the others as they came rushing back, alerted by our mingled screams.

"My God!" exclaimed Sheesa, as the light of the torch played over the scene, illuminating Loté's twisted and bloodied face. "You bastard, you killed her!"

With his weapon drawn, he turned to face me, an expression of pure hatred and disbelief masking his noble features.

"No!" Keazar shouted, stepping to place himself in front of Sheesa's advancing figure. "That can't be Loté!" he stated defiantly in Sheesa's face. "Rod would not have killed her if it were! There must be an explanation for this."

"I did. I killed her," I stated flatly, hearing the words as if spoken by someone else.

"And I will kill you!" bellowed Sheesa, as he pushed against Keazar, trying to move his bulk to the side so that he could get at me.

Sheesa's braves had begun to close in around me, ready to assist their leader against Keazar's immensity, when Keazar pleaded with them again. "Wait! Look closely at that body. Is it really Loté, or is it a clone? And if you're not sure, then how can you so easily convict and execute this man? After everything that's happened, can we really be sure of anything anymore?"

The anger didn't dissipate, but they did stop to take a closer look at the beautiful corpse that lay dead in a puddle of its own blood.

"You look at her too, Rod!" ordered Keazar, seeing my lack of interest in the proceedings.

With great emotional effort, I forced myself to turn my head and look at the woman that I loved more than life itself; the woman that I had killed, just as surely as Sheesa was going to kill me. I looked, slowly at first, unable to see her clearly through my tear-streaked eyes. And then, I saw it! It wasn't much. Nothing that was really very significant. But to me, it meant everything. It was a clone!

"It's not Loté," I said softly. And then louder, "It's not Loté!"

"You're just saying that!" declared Sheesa, trying to convince himself that I was lying. But he wasn't succeeding.

"I knew that wasn't Loté the moment I saw her," added Keazar. After a moment of tense silence, he suddenly added, "This can only mean that Jontue has started cloning women. But to what purpose?"

"Yes, it does," I agreed. "But more importantly than the why, is the where; where did they get Loté's tissue?"

"We better find her, and the others, too," said Keazar suddenly, a note of alarm in his voice.

"How do I know that you two aren't just lying to save yourselves?" Sheesa asked suspiciously, still not sure if he was looking at Loté's body or that of a clone's.

"You will just have to trust us, Sheesa," I said angrily, feeling growing impatience with his doubts. "If we're lying, you and your braves will have many opportunities to kill us. But, for now, we need to work together. We need to find Loté and the others before it's too late!"

"You're right," he said weakly, the fire draining from his eyes. "I'm sorry that I mistrusted you. And you, too, Keazar," he added solemnly, his gaze adjusting to include Keazar's tremendous form. "I should know by now that Rod would never do anything to hurt Loté. Accept my apologies, please."

"Don't mention it," I said quickly, before Keazar could enter into a lengthy, well-intentioned sermon. "We must hurry now."

With Keazar and the torchbearer directly behind us, Sheesa and I took the lead. Walking abreast, we set off again in search of Loté and the others. There wasn't any point in wasting the time or effort to restack the bodies, since the scout's was still sufficiently covered. Sufficiently covered for what reason, I wasn't sure. Yet, I felt better knowing that it was, just the same.

We hadn't gone very far, when Sheesa asked me if I had any idea regarding where the female clone might possibly have come from.

"My guess would be that she found her way here from another lab." I paused for a moment, still feeling slightly numb from the experience that I'd just had, to think too clearly. "It must be a lab that we weren't aware of when we started this mission," I slowly continued, not overly confident about what I was saying.

"It's also possible that Jontue has set up a new lab entirely," added Keazar from behind us.

"Now that's a thought that I could have done without hearing," I replied, feigning anger.

"It's not exactly a thought that I cherish either. But we cannot rule it out," he continued. "If it turns out to be the case, it means our mission will be that much harder to fulfill."

"Enough, already!" I admonished him playfully. "Do you think it's possible that you could keep some of those encouraging thoughts to yourself?"

"I'm sorry, Rod," he replied contritely, having taken me seriously. "I just assumed that you would be interested in any new thoughts that I might have."

"Don't be foolish Keazar, of course we're interested in any thoughts you might have!" Sheesa quickly cut in. "Don't pay any attention to this man who professes to be your friend."

Keazar realized then that we were having a little lighthearted fun at his expense. After reprimanding me for my behavior, in which he used a few choice words not worth repeating, we all broke into laughter. We had all been under such tremendous pressure as of late that we were in dire need of a release. Yet, it didn't seem appropriate while we were marching through such dangerous territory. Our chances of being attacked were growing greater with each step that brought us closer to the next recycling center. And here we were, laughing heartily, almost sinfully. It was as though we didn't have a care in the world. Not only was it not appropriate, it was downright dangerous. However, it helped tremendously toward relieving the growing tension that we were all experiencing. What should have been a simple journey of backtracking to the place where Sheesa's braves captured me was turning into something much more. And it didn't help having to kill a clone that so closely resembled Loté, the woman that held a dear place in Sheesa's heart, as well as mine.

When the laughing finally died down, the mood that followed was more serious than the one before our outburst. Based on the experience that Keazar attained during his escape, we knew that the lab was less than a day's journey. Furthermore, we had to assume that Loté and the others were somewhere between this lab and our current position. That we hadn't run into them yet, didn't make any sense, unless I'd been mistaken about their turning back to look for me. It was always possible that they had decided the greater good would be served by continuing with the mission, leaving me to fend for myself. It hurt me to consider these thoughts, because they put me in my place, and not where my ego would have me. Humility wasn't an easy lesson.

It would have been impossible to voice these opinions to Sheesa. My pride wouldn't allow that. However, I felt closer to Keazar. He would understand without judging me. Besides, I was sure that these same thoughts had already crossed his mind. Thankfully, though, he kept them to himself out of respect for my feelings.

"Let's take a rest," I suggested, though we'd traveled for only several hours.

"But we are still fresh," Sheesa argued, perplexed by my suggestion.

"You may be," I said breathlessly, "but you didn't have your penis almost yanked off by an evil hellion, either. I'm still feeling nauseous, thanks to her."

Sheesa only nodded before raising his hand to indicate to his braves that we were stopping. Nodding casually to Keazar to follow me, I slid my pack from my back and carried it into the dark of the tunnel from which we had just come. Essentially, it appeared that I was just going to get away from everyone so that I could defecate in peace. What I had said about being nauseous from the Loté clone's actions wasn't entirely untruthful. My manhood was sore and bruised, and my stomach ached deep down inside.

When I was far enough from the others so that I could talk freely without fear of being heard, I turned and waited for Keazar to catch up. As he approached, he softly asked, "Are you thinking that maybe Loté didn't come looking for you, after all?"

"Yes, I am," I honestly replied, relieved and comforted by his insight. "I just haven't decided whether it's because she couldn't, due to uncontrollable circumstances, or because she decided that I could fend for myself. It would be like her to determine that the greater good would be served if they continued forward with the mission. If she did decide that, then yes, I have no doubt that she led the others on to the next lab."

"I'm sorry, Rod, but that doesn't sound like the Loté that I know. She went through Hell and back once before to find you, she would do it again. The saving of mankind in and on this planet is a noble one, but it is your mission, Rod, not hers. She is doing her part for your sake, just as I am. Without you, Rod, there is no mission," he added firmly and with conviction.

"Yes, you're probably right, my good friend," I agreed. "This whole mission of saving humanity was my idea, wasn't it? I know you all feel that it is a worthwhile cause, but without my pushing everyone into it, we simply would have gone our separate ways by now, huh?"

"Once again, you're the lightening rod," he said sincerely. "You underestimate yourself, and then you beat yourself up over it. Don't think for a moment that Loté and the others aren't looking for you."

"Yes. And the consequences of that deduction can only mean that they have run into some trouble of their own, or we would have met up with them by now," I stated matter-of-factly.

"We will find them, my good friend. And then we will take care of Jontue, ridding the planet of him and all his evil."

"Yes, we will," I agreed, suddenly more anxious than ever to find Loté. "Let's get back to the others. We're just wasting time here."

"Go ahead, I'll be right there," he said with a chuckle.

After taking a deep drink from my flagon, I hurriedly returned it to my pack, and then slung the whole affair over my shoulder. I had a strong suspicion that I wasn't going to get another chance to take a drink for some time to come. As I entered the small umbrella of light being cast by the small torch, Sheesa looked up suspiciously and then rose to his feet. I expected him to question me, but he only looked away and signaled for his braves to fall in. Although I knew that he would never come right out and question me about my clandestine meeting with Keazar, I decided that he had a right to know. I owed him that much. When the opportunity presented itself, I would explain to him what we had discussed and why I needed to mention it to Keazar first.

"Keazar will catch up," I stated nonchalantly when he hesitated to start without him.

He seemed torn for a moment, wanting to say something, then thinking better of it. Instead, he gave a grunt of acknowledgment and then started down the tunnel. His braves quickly fell into position behind him, leaving the place of honor on his right for me.

A feeling of tension seemed determined to keep rearing its ugly head between us, and I didn't like it! It seemed the only way to quell it would be to tell him what Keazar and I had discussed, and the conclusions we had drawn. I was sure that it was the feeling of not being included in the trust that existed between Keazar and me that was to blame for the uneasy tension between us.

Looking back into the darkness behind us one last time, I finally turned to catch up to Sheesa. Keazar should have finished with his personal business by now, but there wasn't any sign of him. I was probably worrying over nothing. At any rate, it was impossible to see more than a few feet into the darkness; he could be within feet of overtaking us.

Quickly catching up to Sheesa, I spent a few awkward moments sorting my thoughts before bringing him up to speed about the conversation with Keazar. He was visibly relieved and grateful to be included. The time had passed quickly while I talked. When I'd finished telling Sheesa everything that seemed important, a good thirty minutes had elapsed. Glancing back to see where Keazar was, I felt immediate concern when I couldn't see him. We had passed several caverns, all with mounds of dead and decaying carcasses in them, but no other branches that led away from this one since just before our last stop.

Turning to the brave nearest me, I asked him if he had seen Keazar. Looking backwards, he gave a signal to the brave at the rear of our small procession. The brave at the rear returned the first brave's signal with one of his own. A translation wasn't necessary for me to realize that Keazar hadn't been seen since our last rest stop.

Sheesa, reading the signals, sensed that something was wrong and slowed to a stop. "I will send a brave back to find him," he said matter-of-factly.

"No. That won't be necessary. I have a feeling he's just a little slow is all," I said, trying not to show my distress.

Sheesa could see the concern on my face, just as clearly as I could see the impatience on his. Yet, he acquiesced to me; we were equally torn between waiting and continuing on. Out of consideration, he refrained from voicing his thoughts; neither did he try to sway me.

Suddenly, the impatient expression left his face. It was quickly replaced with one that I didn't immediately recognize. He was looking at me queerly when he spoke. "I should be so lucky to ever have as true a friend as you are to your companions."

His comment left me speechless and fumbling for words. Just as I was about to utter something stupid and totally unbefitting of his compliment, the sound of heavy breathing mixed with that of bare feet slapping against the stone floor assailed our ears. Feeling a sudden sense of relief and joy, since I recognized the sounds to be those of our friend Keazar, I quickly put Sheesa's comment out of my mind. The braves too were so confident that it was Keazar, they didn't bother to draw their weapons or douse the torch.

"Keazar, my good man!" I yelled down the tunnel.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," came a wheezy, out of breath voice, from the darkness. "You guys are too fast for me," he added breathlessly, as he came slogging and staggering into the glow of the torchlight. "Maybe if I had something to eat, I would be better able to keep up."

Sheesa signaled a brave who promptly reached into another brave's pack and produced a good-sized portion of jerked meat, which he passed to Keazar. Greedily taking the proffered meat from the brave, he said his thanks while simultaneously ripping off a mouthful with his teeth. We had been so concerned with Keazar's dehydration that we had totally forgotten his need for food.

"Do you need to rest before we go on?" I asked him.

"No," he spouted between mouthfuls. "Let's go find our friends."

"If you need anything, Keazar, just ask," added Sheesa sincerely, before turning back in the direction that we'd been traveling.

Despite the urgency to find Loté, out of concern for Keazar, Sheesa slowed his pace. For the next thirty minutes or so, it sounded as if we were being followed by a herd of pigs as Keazar chewed, swallowed, and attempted to breathe all at the same time. The noises that he made were very distracting, especially as they combined with the odor of the cured meat and the stench of decaying flesh. Because of Keazar's eating habits, we were unable to hear anyone that might be approaching us from behind, and we probably wouldn't smell them, either. Essentially, Keazar was making it impossible for us to detect the approach of an army. Although this appeared to be bothering Sheesa, even more so than I, he kept his annoyance to himself.

Out of concern for our safety, and to make a point to Sheesa that I was aware of his consternation, I decided to suggest to Keazar that he should move clear to the rear of the procession. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, though, or injure his delicate pride, I would have to phrase my suggestion correctly.

As I continued mulling over my words, he suddenly gave a loud belch, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. With much finesse, he again thanked Sheesa for the food. Then, without breaking his awkward stride, he dug in my pack and retrieved my water flagon. After seeing off most of the water in the flagon, he re-corked it and returned it to my pack.

While Keazar was busy doing this, I noticed the look of relief that passed over Sheesa's face. Something told me that if I were to turn and look back, I would see the same expression on each of the brave's faces as well.

"How much farther would you say it is?" I asked of Keazar, when he'd finished retying my pack shut and took up a position next to Sheesa and me.

"They herded us along at a very brisk pace," he said slowly, thinking back. "But it can't be much farther."

"Can you try to be more specific?" pressed Sheesa.

"My best guess would be six more hours at this pace, barring any unexpected delays."

The words had barely left his mouth when we encountered an unexpected delay. Charging toward us, with all the tact of a herd of buffalo, was a solid wall of bodies. In the lead were two soldiers, both bearing Lord Balzar's insignia on their military breastplates. Besides their matching crests, both soldiers also bore large torches, held high above their heads to light the way.

The brave behind me quickly drove the small torch he was carrying against the floor of the tunnel, plunging us into immediate darkness. My mind was racing, trying desperately to come up with a plan of escape, when Sheesa suddenly ordered his braves to attack.

"You must be crazy!" I yelled at him, staring in horror at the rapidly advancing tide of human flesh.

Instead of responding to my outburst, he cried out explicit instructions to his braves, quickly detailing his plan of attack. It was a simple plan. We would drive a wedge through the center of the tunnel, casting the dead and wounded to the left and right as we fought our way through to the other side. Sheesa would take the point with Keazar and me directly behind him and abreast of each other. If anyone should fall, including Sheesa, the next in line would step up to fill the gap created. Without a word, it was decided that I would be the first to step into Sheesa's position if he should fall; Keazar would step up if I fell.

As crazy as his plan sounded, I began to think that it might have a chance of succeeding. Except for the first two soldiers, who had their hands full with the torches, the mass of beings was literally unarmed. To our good fortune, we hadn't been seen as of yet, and coming out of the dark gave us the element of surprise. Still, the temptation to turn and run was very strong. Where we could possibly run to, I didn't have a clue. However, it was still a very tempting thought.

It wasn't tempting enough, though, as I quickly shook it off in favor of Sheesa's battle plan.

In a split second, I was ready for this fight. In fact, I needed it. This was the opportunity that I had been waiting for, the chance to finally release my pent-up frustrations. My penis was still tender from the encounter with the Loté clone, and I still felt some discomfort in the pit of my stomach when I breathed deeply. Nevertheless, I knew these minor discomforts would quickly be forgotten once the action started and my adrenalin began to flow.

With Sheesa in the lead and the rest of us strung out double-file behind him, we charged at a dead run toward the oncoming wall of bodies. Brandishing our short knives in our hands nearest to the tunnel wall, we positioned our long-knives over our opposite hips, facing away from the wall. This was strictly a precautionary measure to prevent them from being too accessible to any of the beings that might get past the point of our wedge alive.

We were less than thirty feet from the advancing mass of flesh when the soldiers saw us. Upon seeing the relieved expressions that came over their faces at the sight of us, it became apparent immediately that the soldiers didn't view us as a threat. Instead, they saw us as their saviors. We had mistakenly assumed that they were setting the pace for the procession of clones behind them, when in actuality they were running for their lives!

It was impossible to tell if the clones were chasing the soldiers, or if something unseen to us was driving the clones from behind. In their haste to get away from the threat, perceived or real, they were trampling any that lost their footing or fell from exhaustion.

The look of relief in the soldiers' eyes was quickly replaced with confusion, and then fear, when they realized that we had no intentions of stopping. They were suddenly torn between our flashing knives and the unrelenting sound of feet directly behind them. As one, they threw their torches to the tunnel floor, sending the advancing mass of bodies into absolute darkness. Although we had no prior intentions of aiding the two soldiers, even if we could, in the thick blackness that engulfed us, our concerted efforts at survival meant the total destruction of everyone and everything encountered.

Getting through the onslaught of clones was just the first part of our endeavor to survive. If we succeeded, we would be met on the other side by whatever was driving this stampede. Since I was always of the type to tackle one problem at a time, I forced myself not to think that far ahead. Yet, I couldn't shake an underlying feeling that we were going to be met on the other side by an army of soldiers; heavily armed soldiers with the smell of fresh blood in their nostrils, killing anyone and anything they could lay their swords and spears to. With a short, silent prayer to the Gods, in hopes that the element of surprise that we possessed would be enough to carry us through, the bloodshed began.

Sheesa hit the wall of human flesh with all the impact of a charging behemoth, tearing and slashing, a knife in either hand. Our impetus quickly slowed to little more than a crawl, and then gradually we were standing still in relation to the tunnel. The tide of bodies, however, continued flowing past us. Sheesa had managed to pile up a mass of dead and dying directly in front of him, creating a nonmoving wedge of carcasses. Slowly, but with increasing brilliance, we could see a dim flickering of light above the darker shadow of bobbing heads. The end of the tide was nearing, and with it ensued what looked ever more like armed soldiers.

With the thinning mass of bodies, the force of the flow created by their sheer numbers began to dwindle. Soon the bodies had piled up so deep on either side of our column that the tunnel was completely blocked. We could hear the tormented screams coming from the few clones caught in front of the blockage. They were screaming horrendously, like so many wild animals, while their pursuers inflicted a merciless wrath upon them, unaware of our presence just beyond the wall of corpses.

We were covered in blood, but had suffered little more than a few bites and many scratches; the latter having been inflicted by beings that were merely trying to claw their way to safety.

After a quick assessment of our condition, Sheesa set to pulling the bodies from in front of him and passing them back. The braves, in turn, handed the carcasses from one to the next, working feverishly to clear a way forward before the enemy had a chance to regroup behind us. Slowly at first, and then with growing speed, the clarity of a flickering light became visible over the gradually lowering mound of corpses. Within moments, we could clearly distinguish that it was the light of but one large torch.

We all knew that the moment we emerged from the mound of bodies, the element of surprise that we now possessed would be gone. In addition, we also knew that we would only have time to clear a path large enough for one of us to pass through at a time before the fight began anew. While I helped pass dead bodies, I was genuinely unnerved by the thought of encountering an enemy that was waiting on the other side to cut us to ribbons as we emerged, and probably outnumbered us, as well.

It took Sheesa very little time to clear an opening that could be climbed through before drawing his knife and preparing once more to do battle. Hesitating only long enough to glance back approvingly at his braves, I got the feeling he suspected that he was about to die. Turning back toward the opening and the light that waited ominously beyond, he let out a lone war cry, shattering the momentary silence. The cry was instantly mimicked by his braves, followed by much yipping and howling.

Spurred on by the adrenaline, Sheesa leaped through the opening. Following close on his heels, I was prepared to share the same fate as he.

With our short-knives held at the ready, we were primed for anything. Anything, that is, but what we came upon. We had caught the pursuers of the clones with their guard down, taking a break and catching their breath as they handed around a solitary flagon of water. The look of surprise that came to their faces could only have been matched by the look of surprise that came to mine, as I recognized each of them instantly.

"Loté!" I cried out with delight at the sight of her.

"Oh Rod!" she cried back at the sound of my voice. And then as recognition registered in the flickering light. "King Sheesa! Is it really you?"

Keazar was right behind me. Upon spotting Linit, he ran past me, pushing me aside as he rushed to embrace his love. Meanwhile, Loté was running to my open arms. It was a quick hug on Loté's part before she rushed over to hug Sheesa. In the past, I would have felt a small pang of jealousy. However, under the circumstances, there was no such feeling, only relief. After hugging Wary and Brae next, I made introductions all around.

We were all covered in blood and minor wounds of varying degrees, but fortunately, no one was injured seriously. With the return of Sheesa's scout, it was determined that we were in a safe place for the time being. Since we were all in need of a respite, I suggested that we should take advantage of the situation by resting up and relaxing.

"There's a better place that is much more defensible just a mile or so back," suggested Wary quickly before anyone had a chance to start unpacking. "It would put a little distance between us and these carcasses before they begin to rot and stink."

"There were a few dead corpses there," added Loté agreeably. "But there was also a pool of water where we can wash off some of this blood. It would be a good place to rest and clean ourselves before advancing on the lab."

At the mention of a pond, any argument that might have been forthcoming was quickly silenced. To parlay any misgivings Sheesa might have had, he ordered two braves to remain behind a day and then to catch up to us later. It was just for insurance against being surprised from behind, he said. Leaving the two braves looking abandoned and deserted, the rest of us began a leisurely march to the cavern.

We had barely gone fifty feet, when Sheesa and Loté paired up, immediately becoming inseparable as they walked hand in hand, talking nonstop. Because it gave me an opportunity to spend time with Wary, catching up on what had progressed in my absence, I didn't complain, at least for the time being. Unfortunately, he knew little more than we did, before Sheesa's braves kidnapped me. When I questioned him about inspecting the rest of the way to the lab, he was quick to point out that they had taken a vote to resolve the issue of whether to continue with the mission, or to search for me instead.

"If it makes you feel any better," he said teasingly, "the vote was almost unanimous in favor of finding you."

"What do you mean, 'almost' unanimous?" I asked, feeling a tinge of hurtful pride.

"He means that someone amongst us felt the mission was more worthwhile than your life, my good man," chided Keazar suddenly from behind us where he walked with Linit.

"Thanks, Keazar, I wouldn't have figured that one out on my own," I shot back, feigning hurt.

"Maybe it would be best if we discussed our plans and left the past where it belongs, in the past," said Wary gently, anxious to change the subject.

Although I had no intention of asking who felt this strongly about the mission, or who cared so little for my life, whichever way I wanted to see it, Wary didn't know this. He did know, however, that if I were to ask, it would put him in an awkward position. Would he deny me this information, or would he betray another in the party? He was right; it was better to leave the past where it lay.

The journey to the cavern took us more than an hour at our leisurely pace. Upon entering it, we were delighted at the sight of the natural spring that resembled the pools in the larger caverns, only smaller and not as deep. It was mutually agreed upon that we should replenish our water flagons and quench our thirst before using the small pool to rid ourselves of the sweat and stale blood that covered our bodies.

Sheesa sent another brave farther down the tunnel toward the lab from which Keazar had escaped. He did this so that we could all relax for a while without fear of a surprise attack. I was exhausted from the events of the past few days, as was Sheesa. However, unlike me, he hadn't stopped thinking about our safety. There wasn't any question that I was every bit as responsible for the safety of my people as he was for his, and yet, I hadn't even considered placing a sentry farther up the tunnel. These people were not just friends of mine; they had placed their trust in me as their leader. Silently, I vowed that I would not forget that responsibility or take it so lightly in the future.

With the flagons refilled and our thirst slaked for the time being, I suggested that we allow the women to bathe first. Meanwhile, the rest of us would remove the few scattered corpses out to the tunnel. No one objected, least of all the women.

Removing the corpses turned out to be a messy job, due to their advanced stages of decomposition. Thankfully, it only took a few minutes before we were finished.

Meanwhile, the women had broken out several hunks of soap, and were busily scrubbing the dried and crusted remnants of their battles from each other's bodies. As we stood, waiting for our turn to use the pool, I discovered that my bruised and battered manhood was still capable of feeling aroused. It suddenly seemed like years since Loté and I had made love, though in reality, it hadn't been all that long ago.

Self-conscious of my erection, I turned to see if anyone else had noticed; I wasn't alone. Even Sheesa, with his stoic demeanor and advanced age was not immune to the effects of watching women stroke and massage each other with soap, while churning the small pool into a sudsy lather. For just a moment, I had to wonder if it was the effect of all the women together, or if he had eyes for just one in particular. My momentary fit of jealousy dissipated almost as quickly as it had taken me to recognize it for what it was.

Feeling anxious, I suggested that we should start laying out plans for attacking the lab, since we were momentarily left with nothing to do but wait. My suggestion went unacknowledged, almost as if they hadn't heard me.

Just as I was about to repeat myself, Linit yelled for Keazar to join them. Without a moment's hesitation, Keazar jumped up and hurried over to join them in the pool. With little more than a smile from Brae, Wary took off after Keazar. Before I could suggest otherwise, every male in the cavern was crowding into or around the pool; Sheesa and his braves included.

Unable to control my own urge any longer, I let out a whoop and a holler, and quickly jumped into the middle of all the excitement. One of the braves brought an empty flagon with him that we used for scooping up water and dousing ourselves. Before long, the men were fighting for the flagon so that they could rinse the soapy lather from their skin before it had a chance to dry. As the flagon was passed from soap-covered man to soap-covered man, the women just as rapidly re-lathered us. All told there were close to twenty men, but only three women. It didn't take long before all had discarded their notions of taboo, and the bathing party turned into an all-out orgy.

With his proportionally larger erection, Beif quickly became the most in demand with the women. However, though he was constantly being sought out by each of them in turn, the rest of the men were still able to take advantage of the situation, finding many ways to relieve themselves.

As the frenzy continued, a brave came around and took up a kneeling position directly in front of Loté's face, roughly forcing himself into her mouth. When she started protesting his actions, and pushing the young brave away, two other braves grabbed her by the wrists and restrained her. With her hands held securely out to either side of her, the kneeling brave grabbed a handful of her long, dark hair to steady her head. Sheesa, realizing her distress, reached up and grabbed the first offending brave's balls in his hands, squeezing them viciously between his gnarled old fingers.

Letting let out a strangled cry of pain, the young brave leaped to his feet. Unfortunately for the young lad, Sheesa hadn't released his grip. Realizing too late, the young brave came to an abrupt stop. The two braves that were restraining Loté by the wrists quickly released her, suddenly aware that their leader did not approve of such actions.

Before releasing his grip on the brave's genitalia, he sternly commanded, "Go relieve the sentries by the corpses. And don't come back until you are sent for!" As the brave grudgingly moved away, Sheesa added, "And take these other two no-goods with you!"

"Thank you, Sheesa," said Loté breathlessly, giving him a tender peck on the cheek.

"Careful, we wouldn't want your man getting jealous," he said playfully, giving me a conspiratorial wink while filling his hand with her right breast.

Slowly, as the flow of sexual juices began to run dry, braves began wondering away from the pool, satiated for the time being. As quickly as the sexual fire had ignited, it smoldered in the now polluted water of the little pool. It would take at least a year before it would ever be clean enough to drink from again. By that time, this side of the planet would have rotated away from the sun. When that happened, the water table that supplied this pool would rise, flushing out the stagnant water with fresh.

We broke off into our respective pairs and little groups, the braves moving to separate themselves from the rest of us. Sheesa, Beif, and Lazzon remained with Loté and me. Meanwhile, Keazar and Linit headed off to one side of the cavern to be near Brae and Wary. Everyone was semi-clean and feeling the soothing effects of having been sexually released. Yet, I was not sure exactly what had happened. One minute, I was considering our plans to attack the labs, and the next minute, everyone was in the water. And the strangest part was the fact that except for one brave trying to force Loté to deep throat him, no one seemed to take offense.

Everyone was relaxed, lounging around and dozing to one degree or another. Nevertheless, I couldn't stop thinking about the orgy that had just taken place. There wasn't any logical explanation for our behavior. It was completely unjustifiable, and still, it had seemed so right and natural at the time. The more that I thought about it, the more I wondered if someone hadn't released something in the air. Giving this line of thought more attention, I decided to stroll over and see if Keazar was awake. If anyone would know about airborne aphrodisiacs, it would be he. Maybe he could help me understand what had just transpired.

"Keazar," I whispered softly as I approached him. Linit was lying next to him. I didn't want to wake her if I didn't have to, so I got a little closer and gently shook his shoulder, softly calling out his name again.

"What! What is it? Are we being attacked?" he yelled, startled out of a deep sleep.

"It's all right, Keazar, it's only me," I said quickly, trying to reassure him before he could wake everyone else in the cavern. "I need to talk to you."

"Sure, sure, my good friend," he said a little irritably, while rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and not yet comprehending what was going on.

Linit looked up at me through sleep-dazed eyes, then casually rolled over to the side and going back to sleep. The large torch that had been left going was running low on fuel. The light was slowly growing dimmer, but still emitting enough so that we could see the others. Keazar was more alert now, as he picked up his flagon of water and suggested that we head out into the tunnel, where we wouldn't disturb anyone else. Nodding in agreement, I led the way around and over the sleeping bodies, pausing only once to glance back at Loté before entering into the darkness of the tunnel.

The dwindling light cast barely a glimmer through the opening, and the outline of our bodies was quickly lost in the darker reaches, as we moved farther from the cavern's entrance. We had gone less than thirty feet in the direction of the labs, when Keazar stopped and asked me what was on my mind.

"It must be important for you to interrupt my precious sleep," he said half jokingly.

"Something is bothering me, my good friend," I started. "I don't feel that I can share this with just anyone, but I'm hoping that maybe you'll understand. Maybe even be able to explain it to me."

"If you're referring to what happened back there, I am at a complete loss to explain it, I'm afraid," he said apologetically. It came as no surprise that he was concerned about it also.

"But that's just it!" I cried out excitedly. "You can't explain it either! If it was something that had occurred naturally, wouldn't we understand it as such?"

"Possibly," he murmured from deep within his thoughts. "The part that has been bothering me the most, and I suspect you too, is that I never objected or tried to stop it as the events unfolded. Damn, I wasn't even jealous when everyone was having their way with my woman!"

"That's just it, neither was I, my friend. Neither was I," I solemnly concurred.

We stood in silence for a moment, pondering the prior events. When he didn't say anything for a minute, I asked if it was possible that Jontue had used an aphrodisiac to fumigate the air nearer to the labs. Was it possible that he had put it in the air to stem the flow of senseless murder and mayhem that was so prevalent among his soulless beings? Surely, he wouldn't fumigate the tunnels so close to the labs with the deadly stench!

"That's something that I hadn't considered," he stated flatly, obviously giving the idea some serious credence.

"The only other thing that comes to mind is battle fatigue," I added, feeling even less sure of the idea than I sounded.

"No, I think you're a lot closer to the truth with the aphrodisiac theory, my good friend. I think Jontue was losing too many of his prodigies, the ones that he had groomed to fill leadership positions in his armies," he said excitedly. "It's a great theory, even if it isn't the case! I wish that I had thought of it during my cloning attempts!"

"In other words, what you're saying is, what they lack in souls, they make up for with love?" I asked incredulously.

"Exactly! However, since we are already sensuous and caring people, the effect is probably threefold on us," he added, excited by the prospects that this could have on his research. "That would explain why there was a lack of bloodshed and mutiny on behalf of the clones that were in the first cavern with me when I escaped! Oh, this is a great theory," he quickly went on, excited by the prospects that were unfolding in his mind.

"If that's true, my friend," I said slowly, not wanting the effect of my words to be lost on him. "Then the closer we get to the labs, the harder we're going to find it to kill and shed the blood of these unholy creatures. In fact," I added apprehensively, "We may even be induced to share our women with them!"

"That is pure nonsense! There is no chemical that Jontue could put in the air that would make us forget our purpose to such a degree," he said authoritatively.

"Then how do you explain that orgy that we just partook in?" I asked cynically.

"I can only explain that, on some subconscious level, we were all open to the prospect of it. I will not believe anything else," he stated flatly. And then, after a moment of silent thought, added, "I will not, and I cannot!"

We stood without speaking for several moments before I suggested that we get back to the others. Walking back in silence, Keazar suddenly stopped as we reached the dimming light trickling out of the cavern's entrance.

Turning to face me, he said, "We will share what we suspect with the others when they awake. It would be wise of us to mentally prepare ourselves and strengthen our self control before we get any closer to the source."

"That's a good idea," I agreed, relieved that he was putting some stock in my suspicions. "In the meantime, I think I'll try putting that last episode behind me, and steel myself against it ever happening again."

We entered the cavern together before separating and silently making our way back to our prior places. The torch had burned down to little more than a flicker, casting eerily moving shadows about the cavern. Loté stirred slightly as I lay down beside her. If there was an aphrodisiac in the air, it didn't cause me any restlessness, but instead, quite the opposite. Almost immediately, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

### **19**

I was awakened by Loté shuffling through her pack in search of something that was eluding her grasping fingers. Feeling as though I had just fallen asleep, I looked groggily around the cavern, noting that someone had either refilled the torch or put up a fresh one; the light seemed overly harsh to my sleep-filled eyes.

Continuing to look around, I noticed next that I wasn't the only one trying to rub the sleep from my eyes, so were most of the others. We were all waking simultaneously, almost as if on cue. However, there didn't seem to be any explanation for our actions. Vaguely, my thoughts drifted back to the brightly lit torch, and who was responsible for turning it up so high. As of yet, none of the others appeared to have moved very far from where they'd been sleeping.

"Loté," I rasped through a parched throat. "What's going on? How long have we been asleep?"

"Here, chew on this," she said, ignoring my questions.

As I put the rubber rock that she'd handed me into my mouth, movement near the entrance caught my attention. Coming through the opening was the same brave that Sheesa, in a fit of anger, had sent back to stand sentry duty at our last battle sight. Instantly concerned, I worried about his presence here, and what it implied. Unless Sheesa had sent another brave to replace him, he shouldn't be here.

Turning to where Sheesa had gone to sleep, I quickly realized as I saw him rubbing the sleep from his eyes too, that wasn't the case. By the look of surprise and confusion on his face, he was as perplexed by the appearance of the brave as I was.

Meanwhile, the brave was coming straight toward Loté and me, not even so much as acknowledging his king with a sideways glance. However, it was quickly evident that he wasn't coming to see me. His course was a beeline for Loté. Loté, however, was still busily rummaging through her pack, completely unaware of the brave's rapid advance. The brave, who was intent on one thing and one thing only, saw nothing but the beautiful woman directly ahead of him.

Unable to move, I watched in rapt fascination as he subconsciously stroked his hardening manhood in his right hand, totally absorbed in the anticipation of releasing the mounting pressure.

Dropping to his knees behind her, he savagely mounted her, a small cry of pain and surprise escaping from her full lips. As he took her, I suddenly realized that I had been stroking my own manhood, working myself into a frenzying climax. Instead of all the normal feelings and emotions, which I should have been experiencing, I found myself unable to contain the excitement.

Loté moaned softly, bracing her palms against the rough stone of the floor to prevent his momentum from driving her forward. Although I understood that what was happening was wrong, I couldn't seem to make myself care. Crawling over to them, unmindful of the scrapes and cuts being afflicted to my own knees from the rough stone floor, I didn't stop until I was directly in front of her. Placing my scraped and bleeding knees between her outstretched hands, I grasped a handful of her long, flowing black hair, near the nape of her neck. With my other hand placed firmly on the back of her head, I glanced furtively into her wide, glistening eyes before forcing her head downward. With increasing pressure, I pushed her head down until it was level with my horizontal bar of steel. She opened her mouth in anticipation, perceptibly leaning forward as she gave into the sexual craving that she felt for me. With all the untamed control of a barbaric madman, I took advantage of her willingness to satisfy my deepest, most basic need.

In the frenzy of the moment, I hadn't noticed Sheesa's arrival. Now, as I pulled my limp manhood from between Loté's pouting lips, I realized that he had come up behind his brave and was holding him by the hips. The brave was resisting his leader's efforts, unwilling to release his hold on Loté. Squirming to get away from Sheesa, he shifted Loté beneath him, literally digging his fingers into her tender flesh, his nails drawing blood.

Still rapt in my fascination of everything that was happening, I slowly realized that Sheesa wasn't trying to pull the brave away from Loté at all. Instead, he was trying to bugger him.

Mesmerized and unable to move, I continued looking on as Sheesa drove his manhood into the brave. As one, they forced Loté forward, scraping her knees along the stone floor until she left a trail of blood. I suddenly felt that I should be doing something, but despite her painful pleasure, my body remained planted in place.

Looking around the cavern, I was astonished to discover that the orgy had picked up where it had left off. Within a few moments of watching the chaotic situation, I was suddenly aware that my own manhood had slipped back to life within the unconscious grasp of my hand. Unable to control myself, I got up and slowly worked my way over to Brae. There was something about her that had always appealed to me. However, out of respect for Wary, I had never made these feelings known. Now, of a sudden, all I could think about was making love to her, and how it seemed like the right thing to be doing.

Getting down on my knees in front of her, she quickly guided me into her. She was so good, so skillful at the art of satisfaction. Grabbing her small, firm breasts in my strong hands, I squeezed them between my fingertips, my fingernails easily breaking the soft, smooth skin, causing her to emit a small cry of pain.

Her small cry of pain was sufficient to shatter the spell that had again descended on the cavern. Suddenly feeling guilty and nauseous by my actions, I tore myself away from her and leaped to my feet. I had barely regained my balance when I felt a sharp blow to the side of the head. For a moment, the floor spun beneath me, followed by a darkness that crept in from the edges of my vision, obliterating everything.

When I next opened my eyes, I was flat on my back, dizzily looking up at Wary. He was holding a long-knife at the ready, emotionally torn between striking me with it or not. Helplessly, I looked on, the tortured expression of betrayal on his face, wrenching at my heart. I suddenly had to say something. Somehow, I had to explain, but there wasn't anything that I could possibly say that would justify what I had done. He might as well kill me, and good riddance!

Slowly, as the fog lifted from my stunned mind, the situation grew clearer. It was suddenly making sense, as I thought back on the conversation that Keazar and I had earlier, and the conclusion that we had come to. Wary needed to hear it, if he would only listen to me before he killed me.

"Wary, wait!" I cried out hoarsely, pleadingly. "I can explain what happened!"

"I saw what happened!" he yelled back, momentarily controlling the urge within him, but slowly losing control.

"Ask Keazar. He knows what's happening to us!" I begged of him, afraid for my life. Almost imperceptibly, I could see the look in his eyes changing, softening, as he looked around at all the faces that were looking back at him. Hope began to rise in me, as I felt sure that I was getting through to him, forcing him to think.

Without warning, the anger returned. Swinging his scrutinizing stare back at me, he cried out, "You lie! You've wanted Brae since the first time that we'd met. It's been tearing at you to have her. You must think that I'm some kind of fool!"

"You're no fool, Wary. And I have but the deepest respect for you as both a man and a friend. Please, talk to Keazar! I beg of you! Do it before you do something you will regret."

He was undecided as to what he should do next. If I drew my knife quickly, I could strike and kill him before he could react against me. But that wasn't an option. I would sooner be struck down, than have to injure, or maybe even kill, such a good friend.

"He speaks the truth, my friend," said Keazar, stepping up and standing amongst the others that had gathered. "There is something in the air that causes this uninhibited display in us. He can no more deny his desires than you can! Can you explain what came over you, holding down my Linit so that others would have an easier time with her?" he suddenly added, sounding more than just a bit angered.

This was the first time that I had ever seen Keazar so close to displaying anger and outrage, yet he managed to maintain his self-control. Wary was suddenly looking very pale and sick to his stomach, as he quickly put his knife back in its sheath and ran to the nearest wall. As he leaned against the wall and heaved his guts out, Brae went to his side, and put her hand on his shoulder, comforting him.

Getting groggily to my feet, I thanked Keazar for coming to my aid. With a shrugging action of his shoulders, almost as if to say that he hadn't done it for me, he took Linit by the hand and led her out of the cavern. It came to me then, that if we were going to stand any chance of defeating Jontue and his army of clones, we would have to do it soon. If we spent any more time here, we would either end up screwing each other to death, or out and out killing one another during our more sane moments.

Loté and Sheesa came over to stand beside me, both looking at me questioningly.

"What was Keazar talking about, is there something in the air? Is that why we've been acting the way we have?" he asked.

"Gather everyone together," I replied, purposely not answering his query. "It will be better if everyone hears what Keazar and I have to say at the same time. Then we can all discuss it openly."

When everyone had gathered, including Keazar and Linit, I asked everyone to sit within earshot before proceeding to tell them what Keazar and I had deduced. Everyone seemed to agree on one thing: Ever since we arrived at this cavern, we have been prone to do whatever has struck our fancy, with no care or concern for the ultimate consequences. We disagreed on the extent to which we would act out. It seemed that the only inhibitions that couldn't be controlled were the ones regarding sexual desire. If that weren't the case, Wary would have struck me with his long-knife, and never gave it a second thought.

Finally, exasperated when I couldn't convince everyone that our inhibitions were only affected on a sexual level, I changed tact, and suggested that we still needed to come up with a plan to control ourselves. Now that we were made aware of the situation, any deviant or immoral activity, especially of a sexual nature, would not be tolerated. Anyone caught, whether openly and brazenly, or sulked off in the darker reaches with another's partner, will be at the mercy of their respective partners. The partner of the adulterer may, at his or her discretion, either kill or spare the intruder of their relationship. Everyone agreed to this, despite differing opinions regarding the extent of the illicit behavior.

With that agreed upon, we decided to eat before reconvening to discuss a battle strategy. Breaking up, we returned to the various places that we had slept earlier, and where our personal packs were still lying. I had been unconsciously chewing the rubber rock since earlier and now returned it to Loté so that she could put it back in her pack for future use.

Thanks in part to all the sexual activity, everyone ate ravenously of their food. Not until we had finished eating, and were returning from a short jaunt down the tunnel to relieve ourselves, did we notice the awful stench emanating from the pool.

Between all the blood and semen deposited in the warm, tepid water, a smelly, anaerobic decomposition had begun to take place. I quickly suggested that when we were finished discussing the battle plans that we should get moving again. Besides, I thought to myself, without a sentry guarding our back trail, it probably wasn't safe to remain here any longer than necessary. With our limited supplies of food and water, we could only remain in here for a limited time, at any rate.

Upon questioning Keazar, it was reestablished that all of the lab compounds, including the caverns, tunnels, and hallways that comprised them, were virtually identical. The two labs within each compound were situated approximately two miles apart and connected by a main hallway and several smaller tunnels. The tunnels were designed primarily for the movement of supplies and for use by slaves and servants. The latter were in place so that the ruling class wouldn't have to see their slaves or encounter them in the main hallway. These tunnels were both a blessing and a curse; in spite of their making access to the labs easier for us, it also meant that we would have to divide our forces into even smaller contingencies to cover them all. If we failed to do so, we might find ourselves outflanked or boxed in from behind.

After much arguing and debate, it was finally agreed upon that Sheesa would lead the largest contingent. It was further agreed that he would head directly to the first lab by way of this tunnel. His contingent was comprised exclusively of his braves. According to Keazar, this tunnel eventually led back to the main cavern at the lab compound. It was also the most likely of routes to meet the heaviest concentration of resistance.

Wary would lead the second contingent, pairing off with Brae, Lazzon, and two of Sheesa's braves. They would take the next branch leading to the left and follow it until it forked. At that point, they would follow the fork to the right until they hit the main hallway, somewhere between the two labs. Whoever arrived at the main hallway first would have the responsibility of securing the junction and cutting off any reinforcements that might otherwise take advantage of it.

I would lead the third contingent, comprised of Beif, Keazar, Linit, and Loté.

"We'll be taking the first branch to the right, following it until it joins up with the main hallway. Once we are in the main hallway, we'll head straight for the lab to our left. If Sheesa and his braves do their job, by the time we arrive at the lab, it should be secured. Once in the lab proper, we will check the recycling machinery to assure that it is still functional. Then we will set up the incubators with the tissue samples from our packs and begin the cloning of our replacements. Once this process is set in motion, we will use the main hallway to go to the second lab. Somewhere along this hallway, we should meet up with Wary and his group.

"Before we reach the second lab, we will divide again. This is the only way that we can cover all the tunnels leading into it. There should be considerably less resistance by that time, though, as we will have secured most of the compound by then. Our ultimate point of rendezvous will be the second lab itself," I explained.

After more arguing, it was finally agreed upon that we would take no prisoners. Most of the arguing on that point had come from Beif and Lazzon. Lazzon only protested because he wasn't sure if he could kill in self-defense, much less, kill unarmed beings.

Beif, on the other hand, suspected that he didn't possess a soul. He believed instead that he had been cloned from a live host. (He had no idea who the host was, and nobody was about to suggest the likelihood that it might be Keazar). His belief also dictated that if he died, he was dead for all eternity. Without the benefit of a soul, his tissue would retain only physical properties if cloned, none of the spiritual or metaphysical elements that made him who he was. These elements included, but were not limited to, such things as personality, and more importantly, memory. Thus, it was an issue that struck close to home with him, since he could relate to the clones that were going to be killed.

In the end, when we had finally agreed that there could be no prisoners, he still had not given confirmation of his agreement with the decision. Nevertheless, he promised that he wouldn't interfere with anyone that carried it out.

When the meeting was over, everyone knew what was coming and what was going to be expected from each. Silently, we picked up our packs and moved out into the tunnel. The air was much fresher in the tunnel, but still not as fresh as the air on the surface of the planet. Once the oily smoke from the torches combined with the acrid smell of body odor and feces, the air wasn't much better than that inside the cavern.

Within a few hours, we came to the branch that Wary's contingent was to take. Here we set up a small camp of sorts and ate a large meal. The persistent urge to copulate was a constant reminder of what was lying ahead for us. However, now that each had been made aware of what it was, including the consequences that would be wielded upon them if they faltered, each managed on a personal level to retain control of their lusty urges. With a full meal in our bellies, we should have grown sleepy. However, due to the aphrodisiac in the air, we only grew hornier and more restless by the minute. Out of frustration, several braves resorted to masturbating. With envy, the rest of us anxiously looked on, as the self-satisfiers fell asleep almost immediately thereafter.

Before long, all the men had relieved their anxiety and frustrations by hand, and had fallen asleep like the others, while the women continued pacing, fidgety and restless. Fortunately for them, it didn't take long to discover another use for the hilt of their weapons. Soon, they too, were sleeping soundly.

After resting for less than two hours, we awoke to a return of our prior groggy demeanor. After much eye rubbing and stretching, I suggested that we get moving before the air became a factor again. We shook hands and hugged each other for luck before setting out on our separate paths. It didn't escape my attention that everyone was having difficulty controlling their urges when touched by the others. Nipples and penises were all rock solid when Wary and his group hurriedly left after Sheesa's departure.

We quickly packed away the items left behind by the others, and then took off after Sheesa. My group would follow his until we came to our own branching tunnel.

Within a half hour of departing from our last encampment, we reached our branching tunnel. In a single file formation, we hesitantly entered. Before I had taken more than two steps into the darker recess, I realized that it would barely allow Beif to pass. In fact, it was barely large enough from side to side to accommodate me, and both Keazar and Beif were considerably wider than I was. But we all realized that there wasn't any turning back, and with that in mind, I continued forward. Beif and Keazar would just have to suffer the inconvenience of their size and make the most of it. Hopefully, neither would become stuck.

After traveling just a short distance, I stopped and suggested that we light a small torch. The light wouldn't be of any use to Keazar, but at least Beif wouldn't be forced to hunch forward any more than absolutely necessary. Once the torch was lit, I suggested to Keazar that he should take the lead and set the pace. It only seemed fair since it was his shoulders that were going to be rubbed raw by the tunnel walls. My suggestion quickly brought a round of guffaws; it was obvious that there wasn't going to be any position changing. Until we exited this tunnel, I was in the lead and Beif was going to bring up the rear. Holding the torch so that it would do the most good for Beif, I turned my embarrassed face away and set off with the others stretching out behind me.

When we had traveled for close to thirty minutes, I asked Keazar how much farther we had to go before reaching the main hallway. He assured me that we were almost there, maybe ten more minutes at most. Beif's rumbling voice came wafting up from the rear as he made a light hearted threat, warning Keazar in many unpleasant terms that he had better be right. There were some more comments after that, but most of them were spoken too softly for me to comprehend clearly.

"No more talking," I whispered gently over my shoulder. "If we are as close as you say, we might run into sentries, and I don't want to give them a warning that we're coming."

We all knew the possibility of running into sentries was highly unlikely, considering the looseness and lack of organization of the army that we were facing. However, it was better to overestimate the enemy, than to underestimate him. The latter would only lead to bitter disappointment and ultimate loss.

"You were right, my friend," I said excitedly under my breath as I came to a blank wall indicating the end of the tunnel. "We are here."

"Then open the door and let us be free!" came Keazar's joyous, yet impatient, response.

Without hesitating, I felt along the edge of what should have been a sliding door, looking for the concealed handle that would trigger it to open. When I was unable to find one, I turned to Keazar, who was directly behind Loté, and informed him of my dilemma.

"Loté, I would not ask if this wasn't important, but could you possibly crawl backwards between my legs so that I may assist Rod," Keazar asked of her, trying to sound patient, but not hiding it very well.

Loté quickly got down on her hands and knees and began crawling backwards, dragging her pack behind her. Her actions left a faint trail of fresh blood on the floor from reopening the sores on her knees. The sight of her suffering quickly doused any arousal effect that I might otherwise have had.

Excepting for Keazar! For some reason, the aphrodisiac hadn't permeated with any degree of strength through the air in this tunnel. Or if it had, we were growing immune to it, which I felt was very unlikely.

Keazar, however, was turning a bright shade of red, trying unsuccessfully to hide a growing erection behind his open hands. Fortunately, no one but Keazar and I were aware of his heightened state of sexual anxiety.

Once Loté was behind Keazar, she got back to her feet and, with Lazzon's help, slipped her pack back into place. With the situation past, Keazar, looking slightly embarrassed, quickly went limp. Nevertheless, I decided that rather than crawling under Keazar next, he would have to do his looking around me. We all knew there was a door here, somewhere; it was just a matter of finding the release.

Reaching past me, he felt down one side of where the door should have been. With a disappointing 'humph', we shifted our positions so that he could search the opposite side. When this also proved fruitless, he got down on his knees and searched along the floor.

"Come on, Keazar, you can do it," I said encouragingly, holding the torch for him to see by.

Pushing up against me, so that he could reach the wall adjacent to the door, he had almost reached the uppermost corner when the door suddenly slid open. It happened so fast and unexpectedly that it caught us both off balance. Unable to react in time, we tumbled outward, into the main hallway, knocking down two unsuspecting clones as we fell.

Sprawling into the bright lights of the hallway, I was reaching for my short bladed dagger even before we hit the floor. My reaction was nothing more than one of the many survival instincts that had kept me alive this long. Unfortunately, I was blinded by the bright lights, unable to distinguish my friend from the enemy. Tangled in arms and legs, everyone was struggling to regain their feet, no one quite achieving it. To a casual observer, the whole affair probably looked very comical. However, to the participants, it was strictly a matter of life and death.

Luckily for Keazar and me, the hallway was empty, excepting the two clones with which we were currently entangled. Loté, having seen the whole episode unfold before her, had reacted like a true warrior, drawing her long-knife as she exited the tunnel behind us. Within a matter of seconds, the walls of the stark white hallway were painted a mural of splattered blood, flinging wildly from the edge of her flailing weapon. And though Keazar and I were also covered with blood, Loté had finished off the two bewildered clones before they even had a chance to scratch us.

By the time Beif had worked himself free of the tunnel and into the hallway, Loté was already putting her long-knife back in its sheath. With less than a passing interest, he took one quick look at the bodies before stretching his arms and legs and turning to face the direction that we needed to go.

"Let's throw the bodies back into the tunnel," I suggested.

"Do you plan to clean up the blood, also, my good man?" Keazar sarcastically inquired.

"You're right," I acknowledged. "Leave 'em be. Let's go."

After thanking Loté for her quick thinking and actions, we set off briskly after Beif, already headed in the direction of the lab. We knew the odds of encountering clones, or maybe even Jontue, increased dramatically with each step that we took.

We had extinguished the torch, not finding that we needed it under the bright lights of the hallway. Although the air in the hallway was contaminated with the aphrodisiac, it didn't contain any of the other putrid smells of decaying flesh and smoke. The harder my heart pumped with the increased exertion, the more intensely I could feel my body absorbing the chemical from the air. An erection had cropped up between my legs, despite my best efforts to resist it. Soon, even the feel of it banging rhythmically against my leg, was becoming more than I could stand. Not long after that, I began to question the proposed purpose of the aphrodisiac, my patience growing shorter by the minute. Although I knew what was causing my mood swings, I couldn't help becoming irritable.

With the onset of my irritable anxiety, I found that I could direct a fair amount of my anger and frustration at Jontue, and the clones that he had created. Working slowly to wear down my resolve, the aphrodisiac was driving me into a frenzied state, making me ready to lash out at the least provocation. Before long, I couldn't keep my frustration directed at anything or anyone in particular. Glancing to my right, I watched Beif trotting along beside me. He had shifted his knife to his left hand and was holding his stiffened pole in his right. Whether he was doing this to prevent it from banging against his knees, or if he just found that holding it in his hand relieved some of the tension, I had no way of knowing. In either case, I decided to try it, also.

Shifting my weapon from my right hand over to my left, I reached down and, caressingly, wrapped my fingers around my rock hard penis.

Before I had a chance to gauge the effects of my actions, we encountered our first real resistance. We were just coming out of a gradual turn in the hallway that had been limiting our range of vision to less than fifty feet, when we sighted the stone barricade. It was a hurriedly made structure, comprised of debris and rubble, and it lay approximately two hundred feet ahead.

Immediately, I signaled a halt. At first glance, there didn't appear to be any movement near it, which was a good indicator that we hadn't been seen yet.

"I don't see anyone. Does anyone else?" I whispered, looking intently toward the barricade.

The feeling of sexual frustration was momentarily forgotten, as we all looked expectantly toward the makeshift barricade. There wasn't any sign of life coming from it, and we had a rendezvous to make.

"Approach it slowly until we're within twenty feet of it. Then, on my signal, we will charge at a full run. Beif," I said softly, turning toward him. "You and I will take the lead. Just to be safe, let's assume it's occupied and the enemy is sleeping on the other side. Quietly now, let's go!"

We had our weapons held at the ready as we walked with growing anxiety toward the loosely heaped stones laid across the floor. When we were approximately thirty feet from the nearest boulders, we still hadn't seen any movement. Winking at Loté, I turned and nodded to Beif. Slowly, at first, and then with increasing speed, we charged the barricade. Less than ten feet from the rubble, I began to slow so that I could pick my way more carefully. Beif, on the other hand, used his long legs to leap to the top of the stones, sending several crashing down the far side.

Amidst the roar of falling stones, could be heard the sound of muffled screams, which were abruptly cut off. A moment later, I crested the top of the pile and froze, looking down at the carnage that lay below. Too stunned to move, I crouched there, looking at the dismembered bodies of what use to be three or four semi-human beings. It was hard to tell just how many there were originally, due to the severe dismemberment and scattering of their parts.

The rest of the sight that we came across is going to remain with me for all eternity, regardless of how many more times I am yet to be recycled!

Stunned by the scene, we looked on in horror as a creature of human origin squatted over a prostate form, scooping entrails into its blood-engorged mouth.

Too sickened to move, I turned away in disgust, the foul taste of bile filling my mouth. Beif, meanwhile, descended the short distance to the floor and proceeded to approach the creature. Judging by the deformed characteristics of what could only be a less than fully developed body, I knew that it was one of Jontue's earlier cloning attempts that must have survived.

The creature barely took the time to look up and acknowledge Beif as he walked up to it. When he was standing directly in front of it, he unerringly swung his long-knife from one side to the other, cleanly severing the being's head from its body. With growing disappointment, I realized that I had just been a witness to Beif's true character. Despite his earlier arguments against not taking prisoners, his lack of hesitation when it came to killing the creature below, spoke volumes. With a dreaded certainty, I knew that I could never reciprocate his trust again, at least not in the same way that I did my other friend's trust.

Forcing myself to move, I slowly climbed down the rubble, upsetting a few loose stones as I went. Distracted by the noise of the tumbling rocks, Beif turned to look in my direction. In that frozen moment of time, when our gazes met, I saw something within his eyes that totally unnerved me, sending a chill to the core of my very being. For just a fraction of a second, I felt sure that he could just as easily have beheaded me, had the notion crossed his mind. He showed no remorse.

As I reached the bottom of the barricade, I heard a gasp from behind me. Loté and the others had crested the rubble behind me, having just reached the top. They were looking down in disgust at the carnage that lay at my feet. Beif had wiped his bloodied knife and returned it to the sheath at his side. I felt a flush of relief at this action on his part, but I couldn't explain why.

Loté reached the bottom first and came to stand by me. Only then, did I notice that the erection Beif had been sporting earlier, was now gone. My own was still standing proudly at attention; hence, I knew the air was still contaminated. Suddenly, I knew what it was that I had seen in his eyes, and why now, his erection was gone; the act of killing had been as satisfying to him as any orgasm ever could be!

When everyone had reached the bottom of the stone barricade, I suggested that we keep moving. No one argued with me, everyone was as eager to be gone from this place as I. Keeping Beif in the lead, I stayed to his left and just a little behind him. Because I no longer felt that I could trust him, I carried a burden of guilt. In my eyes, he had exhibited the main trademark of a clone lacking a soul, the ability to kill without provocation!

The others had a right to know of my suspicions, and how I felt. They needed to be apprised of the way that he had killed the horrendous clone, despite the clone's lack of aggression toward him. Would I have killed the clone if Beif hadn't? Yes, I was certain that I would have. However, I was equally certain that I would have shown some hesitation before doing so. The killing of any creature should never come as easy as it just had for Beif.

Within minutes, we had reached the main entrance to the first lab. Now that we were such a short distance from the main cavern, we could hear the battle raging between Sheesa's group and the clones. However, we couldn't go to their aid, even if they needed it or if we wanted to. Still, the temptation to charge the cavern, catching the clones massed between Sheesa's force and ours was a strong one that weighed heavily on our minds. We had to believe that Sheesa and his braves were doing fine without our help.

Beif stood to one side while I stood to the other. Our plan was a simple one. Keazar would get the door open and then quickly step aside, allowing Beif and me to lead the charge, killing anything and anyone within. When the door failed to open, Keazar put his mouth up to the speaker and demanded to be allowed in. A weak voice nervously replied that he was only authorized to allow the great master himself to enter.

"And just who do you think is the great master?" Keazar loudly demanded, putting all the authority that he could muster into his voice.

"Jontue, of course," came a frail, indignant reply.

"My weak and humble friend," started Keazar on a different tack. "It is I, your true friend, the man who made Jontue. I am the one that gives Jontue his orders. Do you not think, when he learns of how you failed to allow his almighty leader entry, he will not dispose of you?"

"But he told me no one was to enter," the voice meekly retorted, sounding even more shaky and unsure of itself, if such were possible.

"And as the supreme ruler, I am telling you to open these doors at once!" he demanded, even louder.

There was no answer this time, the being obviously torn between his prior orders from Jontue, and the new orders from Keazar.

Keazar quickly admitted that the probability of breaking through the doors was not very good. And even if we could bust through them, the effort would take us much too long. He also knew that the creature on the other side of the door was faltering, that if he pushed him just right, he would concede to his demands and open the door.

"I will not harm you if you open the door at once. However, if you persist in delaying me any longer than you already have, I will have no choice but to dispose of you. Now open the door and experience my kindness, or step back and prepare yourself to die!"

With no sound from the speaker, the door suddenly slid in on itself. In a flash, Beif was through. Close on his heels, I followed, prepared for anything. The being that had opened the door was standing just to the left as we entered. He reminded me of a small boy, about ten years of age, with a bald, oversized head. A head, which hit the floor with a dull thud, severed from its frail little body. A frail little body that was still erect, as I went by, not aware of the fact that it was already dead.

Not stopping to enjoy the killing of this harmless little creature, Beif instead continued on past it, leading the way to the control room.

Trying hard to put the image of the headless little boy out of my mind, I veered to the right, as planned, away from Beif.

My preliminary scan of the lab didn't show any other life. But I continued my search, checking between each row of capsules until I came to the end. Loté had followed me, while Keazar and Linit had followed Beif. When we reached the end of the lab, I ducked down behind the last capsule so that I couldn't be seen from the control room, signaling Loté to do the same.

Without hesitation, she dropped down beside me before asking, "Rod, what are you doing?" a look of confusion on her face.

"Listen, Loté," I started, the urgency in my voice grabbing all of her attention. "I'm going to tell you something and then, when the time is right, you need to let Linit and Keazar know."

Quickly, before the others would miss us, I whispered to her the feelings of mistrust that I was having concerning Beif. She listened intently until I had finished and then said, "While we're back here, do you think we have time for a quick little release?"

It took all of my willpower to resist the urge that had been growing in me, especially when she reached forward and softly stroked my hardened manhood. "We don't have time, Loté," I panted, my breathing already growing erratic.

"If you're still hard when we rejoin the others," she argued persuasively, "they're bound to get suspicious about what we were doing back here all this time."

Within a moment we were done. My release came almost prematurely, and we were walking back toward the control room and the others when we were noticed. Having taken care of my sexual frustrations for the moment, I suddenly felt as if I were stepping out of a cloudy haze that had settled over my brain. With such a large amount of blood being tied up in my lower extremities, it was a small wonder that I could think at all.

Turning to Loté, I said, "You have to warn them at the first opportunity you get. I'll do my best to keep an eye on him."

There was only time for her to nod an acknowledgment to me before we entered the control room. In the control room were two more dismembered bodies, both looking like the work of Beif. Not only were the heads severed from the bodies, but it appeared by the missing limbs that the beings had made a feeble attempt to fight back. Something in my gut told me that their heads had only been severed, finally killing them, when Beif had finished toying with them. Despite not having any proof of this scenario, I was confident that Keazar and Linit would verify it shortly. Loté and I were quick to note that their blades had not been bloodied.

"Keazar, set the controls and let's get the hell out of here," I said quickly, disgusted with what I had seen.

"I was just thinking, my good friend, that maybe we should reconsider our original plan."

"What are you saying, Keazar, that we shouldn't set the labs up with clones of our own?" I asked incredulously.

"I think Keazar's right," interjected Loté suddenly. "What will we really accomplish by swapping one set of clones for another?"

"But what will stop Jontue from returning here after we leave and restarting his operation again?" I asked of both of them.

"We fix the machines so that only we know what is wrong with them, my friend. Then, once we have eliminated all the evil, we can return and repair them, fixing them so they can be used to recycle real humans again," stated Keazar factually, fully confident that we will prevail in the end.

"Are you sure you can fix them so that Jontue cannot repair them?" I asked skeptically.

"I am the master of these machines," he stated proudly. "I can do anything with them that I desire!"

Thinking this new idea over for a minute, I was once again thankful for the clear-headedness that I was experiencing. The more I considered it, the more sense it made. What would we really accomplish if all we did were kill one set of soulless beings, only to replace them with another set? We had learned the hard way that one soulless being was as immoral as the next, with one exception, Beif. Now, unfortunately, I even had my doubts and suspicions about him.

"Then fix them, my trusted friend," I said with conviction. "The rest of us will stand guard in the hallway until you have finished."

"Yes, it would probably be best if no one knew exactly what I am about to do. After all, even a clone will have your memories from this point forward," he hesitantly agreed.

"Give us your tissue samples, also," I added as an afterthought. "Since we won't be needing them anymore, I'll go ahead and dispose of them."

"I can't say as I'll miss carrying them around with me," he said, handing me his pack that contained his share of the tissue samples.

Once we were all out in the hallway, leaving Keazar to the business of sabotaging the recycling machinery, we all emptied our packs of the tissue samples that we had been carrying. Not able to think of a more sure method of disposing of them, we placed them all in Keazar's pack and then saturated it with a generous helping of lantern fuel. It was a gross, ugly, mound of rotting flesh that burned with a foul odor, quickly becoming so overpowering that we were forced to move a short way down the hallway in order to breathe.

In the hallway, we could again hear the battle of Sheesa and his braves as they continued their fight with the clones in the main cavern. The sounds were coming to us as if from a million miles away. Tortured screams and yells that we prayed were the clones were mixed with the sharp staccato sounds of metal striking against metal, as they fought the clones in hand-to-hand combat. Though we could tell that it was still a heated battle, it was also obvious that the feverish pitch of earlier was beginning to taper off. Again, I thought about going to lend Sheesa and his braves a hand, though I knew they were more than capable of dealing with the clones by themselves.

Keazar suddenly came running through the cloud of acrid smoke, a grin stretching from one side of his chubby face to the other. "I found it! I found it!" he began yelling as he drew nearer.

We all stood up as one, looking toward him with the same question lingering on each of our lips.

"What have you found?" asked Linit first.

"The gas!" he cried out jubilantly. "I found the key to the gas!"

"What do you mean?" I asked, still not sure of what he was getting at.

"When I was fixing the recycling apparatus, I stumbled across the mechanism that has been releasing the gases into the tunnels!" he said, almost falling in his excitement. "I have shut off the flow of the aphrodisiac and the stench gas!" he finally blurted. "It won't be long before the residue dissipates and the air is returned to normal, at least in this area. I cannot say what we will find when we reach the other lab complexes."

"I can feel the difference already," said Loté suddenly.

"Yes, me too," added Linit quickly.

"Of course, it is only natural that the women would be the first affected by the lack of it," chided Keazar jubilantly. "I just hope that Sheesa and his braves have the upper hand in their battle with the clones before the clones lose their false sense of empathy."

"I'm sure with Sheesa leading the fight, his braves have the upper hand by now. If you listen really close, it sounds like the fighting may be winding down even as we speak," I said, confident of Sheesa's abilities as a leader and a tactical commander in the field.

"I would like to go and give them assistance," said Beif suddenly, the affect of the gas beginning to wear off.

"We all would, Beif, but we need you here with us," I stated quickly, hoping he wouldn't argue with me.

"But I like to fight. I would fight well for king Sheesa," he argued.

"You will get many more opportunities to fight, Beif, I assure you," said Keazar quickly, afraid that the tall man would leave us to go fight with Sheesa.

Loté and I exchanged knowing looks, firm in our belief that he was growing more dangerous with every passing minute. He may have saved our lives, but ever more, I feared that eventually it would come down to a battle between him and me. For the same reason, I was equally sure that while there were clones and enemy soldiers to fight and kill, he wouldn't give us any trouble. Quite the opposite, in fact, as he was proving to be a very valuable ally. Unfortunately, once we defeated the last of Jontue's clones, and there weren't any more enemies to kill, I would be forced into a confrontation with him; it was the nature of the beast!

### **20**

We set off at a fast trot, eager to reach the second lab, while relishing the freshness of the air in the lighted hallway. Beif took the point position, both to run interference for us and, unknowingly to him, to give Loté a chance to convey our feelings concerning him to Keazar and Linit. I would have much preferred to have gotten Keazar alone somewhere, so that we could discuss my feelings openly. But it didn't appear that we would get such an opportunity anytime soon.

What was a slow amble for Beif was a brisk trot for the rest of us. In no time at all, we had fallen back until Beif was one hundred yards or more ahead of us. Loté quickly took advantage of the distance between him and us to fill in the others, while I paced myself to stay approximately between Beif and them. Several times, I glanced back, hoping to gauge their reactions to what Loté was telling them from the looks on their faces. At first, I clearly recognized their disbelief. However, it was soon replaced by one of concern. That both Keazar and Linit would believe anything Loté told them, I had no doubts, even if it was based solely on my intuition and gut feeling.

When they started picking up the pace, and closing the gap between us, I knew Loté had finished sharing our thoughts with them. Seeing that Keazar was running full out, and probably would not maintain such a pace for any distance, I slowed enough for them to overtake me. By doing so, the distance between Beif and I quickly increased, making it fairly safe for us to talk in whispers without fear of him being able to overhear. Keazar wanted to hear it directly from me, despite the fact that he believed Loté explicitly. Like me, he understood the implications of this train of thought. He knew that if it were true, Beif would have to be contended with eventually. The outcome of such a confrontation would only end in a catastrophe for all.

"Are you sure of this?" asked Keazar between gulps of air, as he pulled up beside me.

"I would not have whispered a single word of it, were I not convinced of it, my friend," I replied. "We must take precautions accordingly, but never let on that you don't trust him, it could spark the inevitable confrontation while we are not yet ready for it."

"I understand, my friend, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with. He has saved our lives," he continued, still gasping for air. "The lives of not just anyone, but the lives of my friends."

"Yes, we owe him for that. It is that reason exactly that we must not provoke him. Instead, we must let him have his lead. I assure you, it is with a heavy heart that I feel this distrust of him," I added solemnly.

He was about to add something when he was cut off by a yell from up the hallway. Turning away from him, I took off at a run, quickly outpacing the big man. Loté easily managed to keep up with me, while Linit hung back, remaining close to her beloved. Coming around a shallow bend in the hallway, we discovered the conclusion to what had been a bloody slaughter.

From first appearances, it was apparent that Wary and his small group had been driving a much larger group of soldiers in front of them. Beif had come up behind this weary group of retreating soldiers without their knowledge of his presence. The carnage we were witnessing now could only have happened within a matter of less than two minutes; the two minutes that Beif had been out of our sight. Covered in blood, brandishing a long-knife in each hand, he stood over his victims, glaring in our direction.

Cringing away from the cold of his stare, I looked beyond the butchery to where the others were standing. Wary was suffering from a shallow wound to his left shoulder, and one of Sheesa's braves was sporting a deep cut in his thigh. Other than that, his party was in good shape. With relief, I also noticed that no one was sporting swollen appendages below the waist any longer. Fortunately, the aphrodisiac didn't have any lingering effects and quickly dissipated from the air.

While Loté took care of dressing the wounded brave's bleeding thigh wound, Brae saw to Wary's less serious shoulder wound. Looking around at the scattered bodies laying in their own blood, I was suddenly anxious to get moving again. Wary, however, didn't seem bothered by the sight in the least. Wondering to myself, I questioned whether I would feel similar to Wary if it had been Beif coming to my aid, bringing a quick and victorious end to a dangerous and bloody battle.

"Beif is a real terror with a long-knife," Wary said appraisingly. Catching Beif's eye and nodding toward him, he said, "I want to thank you, Beif." Then, turning his attention back to me, he added, "We could use another dozen just like him."

Loté, overhearing Wary's comment, threw a quick glance in my direction, making brief eye contact with me before turning her attention back to the brave's thigh. I knew what was implied in that look, mixed in with the irony of Wary's statement. As the opportunities presented themselves, we would have to inform the others of our suspicions. It was only fair that they should be warned. Wary and the others had just seen firsthand what the big man was capable of, despite his argument against not taking prisoners.

When the wounds had been tended to and our thirsts quenched, it was decided that we should continue toward the second lab. Not only were we anxious to get on with the fight, now that we were on the offensive, but also to put some distance between this bloody mess and us. Privately to myself, I was also concerned that Beif would get restless if we waited too long. If he was going to start something, this was probably the best of times and places, while we were all here together.

Yet, I wasn't psychologically prepared for it. I needed more time just to digest the whole idea of soulless beings before having to deal with one that I considered a friend.

Even before I could fully form the next thought that came to me, I was chastising myself for thinking it; I had befriended Beif, knowing full well that he was a clone, and now I was questioning the wisdom of my act. Whatever else he was, he was still a friend! Despite my suspicions, he deserved our friendship. After all, he hadn't done anything to betray our trust in him. So far, he had only done what had been asked of him!

We continued until we came to the branch in the main hallway that would lead Wary and his group back into the servant's tunnel. Without Keazar's trained eye, we would have gone right on past this door, never being aware of its existence. Wary, having heard about our last incident with opening doors, quickly suggested that we should open the door and make sure there weren't any clones waiting on the other side. No one argued with him beyond a blush of embarrassment from Keazar and me. Also, it seemed like a good way to kill some time, while we waited for Sheesa and the other braves to rejoin us.

Effortlessly, Keazar opened the door, and then, standing back, allowed Wary to take a torch in to look around. The whole effort only lasted a little more than a minute before Wary returned to the hallway and extinguished the torch, openly showing his disappointment at the lack of anything lurking within the tunnel. Essentially, I shared his feelings. If there had been something lurking in there, at least the excitement would have occupied us for a little while. As it was, there wasn't anything to do but sit and wait.

Loté took advantage of the lull by getting Brae aside and apprising her of our suspicions regarding Beif. Though I needed to do the same with Wary, I wasn't sure how I could pull it off without drawing attention to us. An idea suddenly came to me. If I couldn't separate Wary and the braves from Beif, maybe I could separate Beif from the others.

"Hey, Beif," I called over to him. "If you want, you can check out the hallway up ahead. You're the fastest one among us. And besides," I added innocently, "I have a feeling that we may be waiting awhile for Sheesa."

That was all the encouragement he needed. In a flash, he was on his feet and securing his pack in place, doing so even as he started down the tunnel. When he was safely out of earshot, I asked the others to move closer together so that we could talk. Briefly, I disclosed my feelings concerning Beif and his lack of a soul. Forgoing most of the small details, I only touched briefly on the look that I had seen in his eyes, standing over the decapitated bodies and the limpness of his penis after the fact. Letting it suffice that I had my fears and suspicions, I only wanted the others to be made aware of them for their own protection. How important it was that Beif shouldn't come to know of our distrust, I couldn't stress enough. They would have to display an open trust in him under all circumstances, no matter what their true feelings toward him might be. And, most important, they must never let him sense that we didn't trust him.

"I don't know, Rod," said Wary slowly, digesting what I had just told them. "I think we owe it to Beif to trust him, at least until he proves otherwise. What proof is there that just because someone doesn't have a soul, they're an evil being?"

"I have done much research in this field, Wary," chimed in Keazar. "And I assure you that without a soul, there are no morals."

"I have a question, if you'll allow me to ask it," asked Lazzon softly, joining into one of our group conferences for the first time since leaving his ferry. "Who made this wonderful determination that poor Beif doesn't have a soul, anyway?"

"That's a good point," agreed Brae. "Just because we found him in Jontue's army of clones, does that necessarily make him a clone? And we're to assume he doesn't have a soul, for that reason alone?"

"I would know if there were men of his size living within this planet," replied Keazar defensively. "If he were anything but a clone, I would know it. I'm afraid he has to be a clone. At the very least, he is the result of an attempt at cloning that bore him as a result."

"You still haven't convinced me that he doesn't have a soul," Lazzon firmly protested.

"Me neither!" added Brae just as firmly.

"Whatever way you believe, just keep your guard up around him," I said gently, trying to prevent the smoldering coals of this differing of opinion from igniting into the flames of an argument.

"Listen!" said Linit suddenly. "Someone's coming."

Grabbing our knives, we quickly took up defensive positions, all of us facing in the direction from which we had just come. Despite our precautions, we all felt sure that it was only Sheesa and his braves, but we weren't taking any unnecessary chances. As we waited for the sound to materialize around the last bend, I suddenly found myself wishing that Beif were here with us. In spite of my current misgivings toward him, I still drew a great deal of comfort from his presence in battle. As much as I wanted to believe that Keazar was wrong, with respect to his conclusion about the clones being evil due to their lack of a soul, I knew him too well to doubt him. Keazar was a brilliant thinker, more than compensating for what he lacked in physical strength and agility. If Keazar felt confident that a clone without a soul was evil, then it had to be so. Nevertheless, that didn't mean I had to accept it willingly.

Our suspicions proved correct, as Sheesa came into sight first. His remaining braves were following close behind him. When we had parted company last, Sheesa had nine braves with him. Now, it appeared, two were missing. Sheesa, like his braves, was covered in blood, but nothing that resembled a bleeding wound. Even from a distance of nearly seventy-five yards, I could tell that the blood he wore had come from wounds that he had inflicted on his enemies.

Near the rear of their procession, two braves were supporting a third between them so that they could keep up with their leader as he trotted toward us. This brave appeared to be the most severely wounded. Even before they had reached us, the women were preparing bandages in anticipation of treating wounds. As they drew nearer, we could see the blood still running unabated from a gash that ran the length of the supported brave's outer left thigh. Silently, I breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't anything as serious as a broken bone. If that had been the case, it would require setting and a splint. Moreover, his mobility would be severely hampered, and mobility was the only advantage we possessed.

While Loté prepared to treat the wounded, the rest of us took off toward Sheesa to assist the wounded. As it turned out, the only brave that needed assistance, was the one with the gash. The two braves were reluctant to hand over their fellow brave to Wary and I, as we met them with open arms. Rather than argue, I simply instructed them to where Loté was waiting with the supplies. Standing, watching the others pass us, I could see the fatigue in their eyes. Their battle had been a tough one, and they would need rest and fluids before we could move on.

Sheesa hung back with Wary and I, walking slowly until the others were well ahead.

"I am sorry for your losses," I said softly to him with regard to the missing braves. "I am sure they died bravely."

"We were lucky that the clones were unarmed, for the most part. Those that did possess weapons, were poorly organized," he added, completely devoid of emotion, watching his braves being attended to by the women.

"How many would you guess there were?" asked Wary.

"We must have killed at least two hundred, maybe more. When we arrived, there were already bodies laying everywhere. It looked as though they had been killing each other for quite a while. Some of the dead bodies were already showing signs of decomposition," he replied in the same flat tone of voice.

I was about to suggest that he get some rest and fluids when he continued in the same droning voice. "We must purge this planet of all these evil beings! If we don't do this, it will never be a safe place for the children of our future and the generations of children that follow."

Hesitating for a moment, he gathered his thoughts before continuing. "I must admit that I was skeptical of your talk about a man that was manufacturing soulless beings in order to take over the planet. It was difficult for me to understand how one man could be so cruel and selfish toward so many innocent people. Now, however, I know that it is true."

Turning away from the scene farther down the tunnel, he looked into my eyes. Feeling that he wasn't really seeing me at all, but instead was looking right through me, I knew I was mistaken when again he spoke.

In a voice dripping with vindictiveness, he said, "We must find this man called Jontue that you speak of, and we must kill him and every soulless being that he has created. Then we must fix it so that no one can ever clone such creatures again! You are right, Rod, we must fix what is wrong with this planet. It is our duty to restore a hierarchy that is just and fair for all. We owe that to our future children!"

Although, he would find out eventually, right now I didn't have the heart to tell him that his tribe was one of the last that had not been sterilized by using the recycling machines. Nor could I tell him that this meant there would be no future generations for the rest of us. Looking around at the others, I suddenly couldn't tell him about Beif, either. Instead, I extended my hand to him and made a vow; I vowed that we would not vary from our righteous crusade, nor would we weary in our struggle. Not until such time as the last of the clones had been eliminated, and Jontue had been dealt with, would we rest.

"Now that you understand the scope of our plight, are you still certain that your family is safe, where you sent them? If you don't, then you should abandon this journey now, and go look after them. By doing so, you will be accomplishing as much in the way of foiling Jontue's plans, as if you were here, fighting by our side," I stated emphatically.

"I must admit that I have been giving that very idea a lot of thought. However, I am sure that with Lick looking after them in my absence, they will be just fine. Besides, with Holt no longer my heir, if something should happen to me, Lick will automatically step into the throne, at least temporarily. If the tribe doesn't want him as their ruler, they have the option of holding a contest among the remaining braves to decide their future King. That would only happen in the event of something happening to me, though, which is most unlikely," he added, chuckling lightly.

"Then we will just have to make sure that nothing happens to you," I said, half-jokingly, while winking at Wary.

Standing in silence, each of us drifted slowly into the depths of our individual thoughts. Sheesa, I had no doubt, was thinking of his family and the braves that he'd lost since we first met. Wary, on the other hand, was probably thinking about what it must feel like to have a family; he was maybe even wondering if Keazar could ever reverse the sterilizing effect of the incubators.

As for myself, I was wondering if anyone had told the newly arrived braves about the situation regarding Beif. And if someone had informed them, I wondered how long it would take before Sheesa knew everything. Though I felt guilty for not being up front with him, I wasn't sure that he was ready to accept my suspicions. I also didn't know if I could risk what his reaction might be toward Beif. If Beif returned before our assault on the second lab, it was all too possible that Sheesa would willingly precipitate the confrontation with him, bringing the problem to an immediate head.

As I considered my dilemma, a new thought suddenly dawned on me; if Sheesa could strike down Beif in cold blood, then what was the real difference between a human being that possessed a soul, and one that didn't? Again, I found myself in a quandary. And yet, I realized that it was just a matter of time before Sheesa learned of Beif's true nature.

Moving away from the others, I decided that I would tell Sheesa of my suspicions. It would be better if he heard it from me, and not secondhand. Also, with me doing the telling, I might keep him under control. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can even make him understand why we needed to avoid a confrontation with Beif at this particular time. Although I felt extreme guilt when I first told Loté, and then the others, I didn't feel quite the same this time. Sheesa had drifted along with me, almost as if he had sensed my need to speak with him alone.

When we were far enough from the others, I turned to face him. He looked old and tired; he looked like a man that I could bare my soul to, and not be judged. In a rush of words, I quickly laid out my feelings to him, knowing that if I hesitated, I would lose the courage to continue. Sheesa, reading my thoughts, remained silent, allowing me to continue uninterrupted.

When I finished speaking, there was none of the feeling of relief that I expected. Instead, I felt nauseas. I had just betrayed a friend. Beif had done everything for us, and yet, this is how I repay him!

Before Sheesa could respond one way or another, I stated with finality, "When Beif returns, we will confront him openly about our feelings regarding his morals, or lack thereof. Until we give him a chance to defend himself, no one will raise a weapon against him without the fear of my retaliation!" And then, looking him straight in the eye to stress my sincerity, I added, "And that applies to everyone!"

He didn't respond to my last statement, not even so much as a blink. However, he hadn't taken offense at me for stating it, either.

After a moment of silence, he nodded almost imperceptibly. Then he turned and walked silently back to the others. Slowly, I turned and followed him, some of that expected relief finally coming to me. Sheesa would wait for Beif's return, thus withholding his judgment until then. I could ask for nothing more. He would let me play this out my way. However, without him needing to tell me, I knew that the minute things didn't go the way he anticipated, the confrontation would begin.

By the time that we'd rejoined the others, Loté was already putting the medical bag back together. The brave with the gash in his thigh had lost a lot of blood, but with Keazar's medicinal pills, he probably wouldn't even remember the wound within a day or so. According to Loté, he would be up and walking within an hour. Based on this prognosis of the wound, we decided to use the hour to rest before launching our assault on the next lab.

Before anyone had a chance to wonder off and find a place to take a quick nap, I asked for everyone's attention. Quickly, so that each would have ample time to do their own thing, I made a brief statement concerning Beif and my position toward his well-being. Just as I was finishing, Beif came trotting into view down the hallway. He was splattered with fresh blood and breathing hard. Stopping at the mention of his name, he remained standing a short distance away, studying us warily as I looked guiltily back at him. He knew instinctively that he was being discussed, and I even suspected that he knew why.

Slowly, using his right hand to do so, he drew his long-knife from the sheath draped over his left hip. "Beif not evil," he said flatly, dispelling any doubt that he knew of our suspicions. "BEIF NOT EVIL!" he cried out, emphasizing each word.

"Put the weapon away, Beif," I gently ordered.

Slowly, he strode forward, progressing to within twenty feet of us before stopping. Silently, he stood his ground, every sinewy muscle of his body bunched with tension, looking at us, accusing us for thinking what we did. Although he stood frozen, holding the long-knife out in front of him, I knew it for a defensive position, and not one of attack. And as threatening as he looked, standing upright to his full height, covered in sweat and blood, somehow, I knew that he meant us no harm.

Stepping away from the others, I moved toward him, my arms held out to my sides in a show of submission. I advanced half the distance separating us before he told me to stop.

"Beif, I am sorry," I said softly. "None of us wants to believe that you are evil, but you must understand why we feel the way that we do."

Hesitantly at first, and then drawing strength from his anger, he said, "I understand that you want me gone. It was not enough that I have fought for you and risked my life for you! What more can I do to prove my loyalty to you?"

He was on the verge of breaking into tears as he continued, "You insisted that we not take any prisoners, even this I do for you! Do you think that I enjoy killing?"

"No, my friend," I said sincerely, continuing to walk toward him. "If I had thought that before, I don't anymore."

Pleading for his forgiveness, this man that stood crying over me, I reached up and embraced him. I knew now that I had misread the look in his eyes as he severed the head from the clone at the bottom of the rubble barricade. It was not one of glee, but one of terrible agony. The same terrible agonies that made him lose his sexual drive, despite the overpowering effect of the aphrodisiac.

He cried for a while longer while the others gathered around us, sharing in our embrace. Finally, after several moments, we separated and went our different ways. We had ostracized a friend and almost done him physical harm out of fear. We could see how stupid we had been in irrationally assuming that all clones were without morals, even though the overwhelming evidence indicated such. It was to our benefit that Beif was not the normal clone. However, we still could not risk taking prisoners, as we continued with our campaign.

One hour of sleep turned into several. Sheesa was the first to awake, noting for the first time in a while that he wasn't groggy, or looking leeringly at my Loté. We were close enough to the second lab that we should have felt some effects from the aphrodisiac if it were present in the air. Although I didn't dare say anything to any of the others, I silently hoped that the lack of aphrodisiac in the air meant that there weren't any clones in the vicinity.

It was decided that Sheesa would take the two braves that were originally in Wary's group, with him. Other than that, we would follow the same battle plan as we had before. My group would remain in the hallway, while Sheesa's and Wary's would branch off to the left and right respectively. Both groups would be following service routes between the labs. Until we reached the branches that Keazar indicated, however, we would all remain together. While Sheesa and his braves took the tunnel to the right, Wary and his contingent took the tunnel to the left. We gave them a fifteen-minute head start before Beif and I took the lead and continued toward the lab. The head starts that we gave them were to allow for any resistance that they might encounter in the tunnels, in addition to the rougher traveling conditions that would slow them accordingly.

Because of the several hours of sound sleep that we'd each gotten, everyone was feeling much better. Feeling refreshed, we were even looking forward to a good fight. Moving briskly, we made excellent time in the hallway. Within thirty minutes, we were standing outside the lab door, waiting for the others to rejoin us. As we waited, we could hear the sounds of fighting, carrying to us from the main cavern. However, the sounds only reached us occasionally, and then just bits and pieces. The fighting was much lighter than at the other lab.

Fifteen minutes later, Wary and his party emerged from the tunnel that led to the food prepping area. They apologized for taking so long, but they had stopped to refill their packs with cured meats and supplies. Rather than wait for Sheesa, I instructed Wary to take Beif and Lazzon with him and give Sheesa and his braves a hand. While they were gone, we would find a way into the lab, even if we had to break the door down.

"Okay, Keazar, see what you can do."

Keazar first tried the latch, to no avail, and then fingered the mike that allowed communication with the inhabitants. The voice that responded sounded remarkably like Jontue's voice. I found it hard to believe that luck would be smiling so brightly on us. We had assumed that Jontue would have had his network of sentries inform him of impending danger so that he could be gone before we arrived. Maybe we had overestimated the man, after all. It didn't seem possible, though, and I wasn't ready to accept it on face value.

"Jontue! Is that really you?" asked Keazar, faking excitement and good cheer.

"Keazar, what are you doing here?" came the voice through the box, sounding suspicious.

"Open the door, my friend. We need to talk. I can't begin to tell you how excited I am to have found you."

There was a moment's hesitation before the voice spoke again. "Quickly, when I open the door, you must run in. It is not safe out there."

We knew that we were running head first into a trap if we charged the minute the door opened. We also suspected that it couldn't be the real Jontue waiting inside. Not unless we had terribly overestimated his survival instincts, which I highly doubted to be the case. No, I had a much stronger feeling that once we got inside, we would discover nothing more than a very good clone of him. The clone would still be a dangerous foe, since it possessed all of Jontue's mental faculties, including his memories and mannerisms, but still a clone, nonetheless.

Poignantly, I began to question my judgment with regard to sending Wary and the others to assist Sheesa. Not having anticipated needing them, since I had assumed the lab would not be manned, I now regretted my hastily made decision. However, with the door about to open, it was too late for regrets. Neither was there time to form a plan of attack. Instead, I moved myself to stand between the door and the others, holding my long-knife at the ready, and waited anxiously for it to slide open.

Sensing it, more than seeing it, Loté gently pushed Keazar aside as she took up a position slightly behind and to my left. Brae quickly moved to the other side of her, planning to split to the right while Loté split left, leaving me to rush up the middle. Keazar and Linit were left to bring up the rear and secure the opening behind us while we carried the battle inward. It was also their responsibility to act as reinforcements in the event someone was cut down.

Although I was unhappy about subjecting Brae and Loté to this level of danger, I knew they were every bit as capable in a fight as Wary or myself. As impressed as I was by the way they had taken up their respective positions without needing instructions, I was also dismayed that we lived in such a violent world that it would come so naturally to them.

Suddenly, before I had a chance to dwell on our violent times, the door swiftly slid aside, revealing not one, but several soldiers bearing long-knives. In the split second it took for my tightly coiled muscles to un-spring, I vividly saw the look of surprise that crossed their similar looking faces.

Lunging forward, my weapon slashing viciously, I attacked with all the ferocity of a demon unleashed. It was imperative that I drive straight into the melee, forcing myself far enough into the lab for Loté and Brae to cross behind me and cover my flanks.

Unfortunately, the soldiers standing in the doorway were bunched too tightly together for my momentum to drive them backwards. Fortunately, though, instead of standing their ground and easily overpowering my one-man charge, they panicked at the sight of us. In their hurried attempt to back step, trying to give themselves room to maneuver, they only succeeded in stepping on each other's feet and falling over each other.

Moving with the grace and speed of a large cat, I assessed the situation instinctively, slicing my knife across the chest of the nearest soldier to my left. In my haste to take advantage of their panicked reactions, I managed only to cut a deep swath in the leather of his breastplate. Still, the momentum of my swing, added to the strength of my muscular arms, carried my weapon across the upper chest of the soldier to his right. Arcing upward as I swung, my blade rose above his breastplate, cutting a deep, yet not fatal gash, across his exposed chest. The cut was too low to reach his throat and, as I would later learn, only turned out to be a deep flesh wound, drawing very little blood.

Since I put every ounce of strength that my adrenaline-saturated body could produce into the attack, I couldn't pull up. The follow-through of my swing carried me around in an arcing circle, connecting with a third soldier just as he was getting his feet under him. In slow motion, I saw the edge of my blade slicing through the top half of his ear, cleanly severing it off before stopping abruptly against the hard bone of his skull. Instantly, I knew that despite how much blood had suddenly erupted from the side of his head, my blow resulted in nothing more than a splitting headache for the poor being.

Disappointedly, I realized that I had wasted my opportunity, as well as our element of surprise. In my haste, and despite my efforts, I had failed to make room for Loté and Brae to get into position behind me. Even worse, from the direction of the control room, several more, armed soldiers were charging toward us, anxious to join in the fight.

With my weapon pressed against the bloodied side of the soldier's head, I planted my feet and, using my right shoulder as a battering ram, frantically pushed forward. Driving at the soldier's solar plexus, trying desperately to knock the wind from his lungs, I realized too late the folly of my move. As I rushed forward, the soldier was already back stepping, trying to regain his balance after dodging a lethal blow from my blade.

My shoulder connected gently with his solar plexus, forcing him backwards and off balance. Instead of bouncing off his chest and pivoting into a reversing arc that would have caught him in the side, he landed flat on his back with me poised squarely over him. Making no attempt to break my fall, I landed hard, driving the air from his chest in a loud whoosh of air that struck me full in the face. Vaguely aware of a clanging noise, I realized his weapon had fallen from his grasp, and was sliding harmlessly across the hard floor of the lab.

Without thinking, but acting solely on instinct, I planted my left hand on the floor beside the soldier's prone body. With the knife still held firmly in my right, I dragged the blade across his neck, slicing deeply into the crevice created between the back of his jaw and his windpipe. Struggling for air, and flailing wildly about for his weapon, he started making wet gurgling noises through the flap of flesh that hung loosely like a turkey's craw beneath his chin. Realizing that he was going to die, he stopped flailing, his eyes growing wide with fright.

Everything had happened so fast that I had no idea what Loté and Brae were doing. Pushing myself erect, I turned in time to see Loté finish the soldier on my right with a cutting slash to his throat. My fall to the floor had given them room to enter.

Brae, meanwhile, was holding her ground to my left. But she was about to be overwhelmed by the reinforcements coming from the control room. Glancing back to my right, past Loté, I quickly verified that there weren't any more soldiers in that direction. With a speed and agility that could only be accredited to a rush of adrenaline, I jumped to Brae's assistance.

Leaving the dying soldier where he lay, since he wasn't a threat any longer, I leaped into the fray that was about to engulf Brae. With a vicious blow to the left, I caught both Brae and her opponent by surprise, my long-knife sliding smoothly and deeply into his unprotected side. Pulling my blade free, a mess of guts and viscera spilled from the soldier's side, hanging suspended like a sack from his body. There was a complete look of shock and dismay on the soldier's face as he looked down at his guts, hanging limply from his side.

Dropping his weapon to the floor, all but forgotten, he grabbed for his distended intestines, his legs suddenly unable to support him any longer. Dropping to his knees, despite the pale color of his face, he remained perfectly calm, meticulously attempting to push his insides back through the cut that ran from his breastplate to his back. For this poor soldier, everything but the struggle of putting his pieces back together had suddenly become irrelevant.

"Brae!" I yelled, suddenly realizing that she was slipping into shock. Mesmerized by the soldier's apparent calm, she was descending into a more peaceful surrounding, her mind hiding from the gory sight confronting her.

At the sound of my voice, she instantly snapped out of her self-induced trance. With a new showing of feelings, she viciously swung her blade from left to right, cleanly severing the pale white head from its body. Not waiting for, or wanting to see the results, I heard the thud of the head, as it hit the floor. Unfortunately, the vision of the body, continuing in its ineffective attempt to replace its organs, was mimeographed on my mind's eye.

Without further hesitation, Brae stepped to the left while I stepped to the right. Together we tore into the advancing soldiers, terminating any momentum that they had mustered in their short sprint from the control room. Out of the corner of my eye, I was vaguely aware of Loté moving between the capsules, working her way around behind the soldiers. With Brae and me keeping them busy from the front, Loté had dispatched with two of the soldiers from behind before the others were even aware of her presence. In the seconds that followed, the remaining soldiers, realizing they were being overwhelmed and outflanked, made a suicidal dash for the door.

As they ran past us, Brae and I each fatally wounded the one that came nearest. Two got past us unscathed, and they quickly ran into Linit and Keazar, both of which were waiting to join in the battle. The fight that ensued was short lived. Linit, having done little more than hold her knife out in front of her at waist height, impaled her opponent immediately. Then, turning to help Keazar, both struck at the remaining soldier simultaneously, killing him instantly. Even as he fell, Linit continued hacking at the corpse. For the briefest of moments, her actions seemed much more vicious than even those of Beif.

Loté was the first to reach the control room and discover the being that had proclaimed to be Jontue. As she approached him, her weapon held at the ready, he dropped to the floor and started crying, begging for mercy. Stepping up beside Loté, I stood looking down at a poorly developed clone. Before I could offer to do it, Loté stepped forward and, bringing her long-knife down in a crushing blow, clove its head in, the cutting edge of her blade going deep into the cranium.

After taking a quick look around the control room, I returned to the lab. Keazar was still standing by the open door, covering our backs. Upon seeing me come out of the control room, I threw him a curt nod. Understanding my signal, he turned and said something to Linit. Immediately, both of them started toward the control room, ready to do their sabotage work. Walking slowly toward the hallway entrance, I paused briefly to look over the carnage that we had inflicted. The decapitated soldier was still in a kneeling position, his hands held out, palms facing up in front of him. An eerie feeling passed over me, as I imagined that he was praying to a god that only he could see.

Walking over to where the head lay, I reached down and gently closed the eyes. Not sure of what had possessed me to do it; I felt better knowing that they could no longer see me. It was as if something evil had been watching us through the lifeless orbs.

"What's bothering you?" asked Loté, approaching from the control room.

"Nothing. Just a case of nerves."

"Nerves have never bothered you before," she said curiously. "Come on, let's go out in the hall and wait for Sheesa and the others. You can tell me what's really bothering you then."

When we reached the hallway, the noise of the battle coming from the main cavern had died away. I knew this was a good sign, indicating that they had met little resistance. Nevertheless, that didn't mean there wouldn't be any casualties. Brae followed us out. She was worried about Wary, and looked longingly down the hall in anticipation of his return.

"The battle sounds like it's over. If you want, you can go and keep an eye out for them," I suggested casually, confident that she wouldn't come to any harm before Wary and the others met up with her.

Without hesitation, she took off at a run down the hallway. She was as anxious to be reunited with Wary, as I was sure that he was hurrying back to be with her.

Standing alone in the hallway, looking into each other's eyes, we moved closer, ready to embrace and shut out the rest of the world. Like a tearing of the planet's fabric, Brae's scream came echoing down the empty corridor.

"Go, warn the others!" I said hastily, sprinting in the direction that Brae had just gone.

"I'll be right behind you," she hurriedly responded, before turning and running back into the lab.

I had barely covered twenty yards when another scream shattered the still air. This one was deeper, more guttural. Immediately, I recognized the blood curdling cries. They were coming from none other than Wary. With all the speed that I could muster, I ran toward the source of the pain.

Almost to the main cavern, I came across the scene. Wary was walking toward me, the bloodied body of his beloved draped across his arms. He was followed by Beif, Sheesa, and all the others, as they walked in silence behind him. Seeing the trail of blood leading away from a small locker on the right side of the hallway, I knew immediately what must have happened.

In her excitement to reach Wary, Brae had let her guard down. Even as she approached the opening, the battle in the main cavern was already over. It was only natural for her to assume that the compound had been made safe. Unfortunately, a clone had taken refuge in the empty locker. Upon seeing her pass by, it took advantage of the situation, attacking her from behind. She was probably dead before she knew what hit her.

After glancing at the mutilated corpse of the clone, I knew Beif had been the first one on the scene, responding to Brae's solitary scream. Thinking with my head and not my heart, I knew immediately what needed to be done if we were going to save her.

Quickly, I explained to Beif that he needed to use his superior speed to race back to the recycling lab and warn Keazar of what had happened.

"Tell him that we are bringing Brae's body and to have a capsule set up and ready for her."

Beif took off at a run, just barely missing running head on into Loté as she came from the other direction.

"Oh my God," she gasped, realizing what had happened.

Sheesa ordered two of his braves to carry Brae's body, but Wary wouldn't relinquish her, insisting that he would carry her himself. My heart went out to him, knowing what he was going through. Just because it was possible to recycle someone, didn't make it was any easier to deal with the death. Silently, I prayed that Keazar hadn't progressed too far into the sabotaging of the lab's equipment before Beif could stop him. If he hadn't, by the time we reached the lab, they would have an incubator ready and waiting.

As much as I wanted to be there for Wary, it was important that he deal with this in his own way, the same as I had. Hanging back, I followed the rest of the group at a short distance. Loté sensed that I was sharing Wary's suffering on a very personal level and hung back to be with me, hoping to give me some solace. Although I was appreciative of her concern, the unease would pass quickly for me; my love was still here with me. I would be all right in a few minutes.

Walking side by side, drinking in the quiet that was left behind, Loté suddenly turned to me, asking if I was ready to talk. Knowing what she meant, and that it had nothing to do with Wary and Brae, I wasn't sure.

"I'll be fine," I said softly, not wanting to disrupt the serenity surrounding us.

"Something's bothering you, and I don't mean Brae. Keazar can probably recycle her in a day or two, and then Wary will be just fine. What I'm talking about concerns you."

From the tone of her voice, I could tell that she had no intention of letting me off the hook this time. She was determined to find out what was bothering me, and she wasn't going to let up until I told her what it was.

"It's all this senseless killing, I guess," I said resignedly.

"But you know the killing can't be helped," she offered gently.

"Why can't it be helped? Why do these clone creatures have such an irrational need to kill? Is that the basic essence of every human, to cause pain and destruction?" I pleaded, not really expecting her to answer me.

Not surprisingly, she didn't reply, not immediately, anyway. After a moment, I continued, giving in and relishing the opportunity to let the pressure out.

"If Keazar can get the damn machines to restore our reproductive organs, and make it possible for us to bear children again, should we recycle all the human beings and then abolish the machines? Can we or do we dare let nature evolve the way that it was meant to like Sheesa's tribe and all the tribes on the planet's surface? Or do we continue the way the Lord's use to, by selectively recycling the bodies that we have a need for, or simply find desirable?" I asked solemnly.

"I can't answer all of your questions, my love," she gently replied. "Some of them are not for us to answer, but for the majority to vote on. However, I do believe that it will be a good thing if Keazar finds a way to restore our reproductive organs."

"Why? So we can bring children into this unholy world, a world where we would live at the same age as our children, possibly even outliving them?" I asked bitterly. "Wouldn't it just be selfish on our part to bring more life into this world?"

"Maybe," she answered slowly, thinking her thoughts through before putting life to them. "But isn't it even more selfish of us when we won't even give new life an opportunity here? Why should we be the ones to decide what is right, or what is good enough for a life that isn't born yet? I'm sorry Rod, but I can't share your pessimism, not on this one."

"I know," I answered her softly. "I'm not sure that I share my own pessimism. I think that might be what's bothering me, my lack of decisiveness. I use to have the answers, Loté. Making the decisions that affected millions of people, and knowing that I've made the right ones. But lately, everything seems turned around. I find myself feeling sympathy for the insidious creatures, even though I believe whole-heartedly that they would just as soon cut off my balls and eat them, leaving me to bleed to death. And especially now, when I should be fighting mad and ready to kill without hesitation! But instead, I keep wondering if there is some way that we can reason with them, make them realize the value of life."

"That is a foolish thought, Rod!" she fired back angrily, startling me by her passionate response. "These creatures may be sentient beings, but they are not like us! Get it out of your head," she continued in a more subdued tone. "They're evil beings that need to be eradicated from this planet! If you can't see that clearly," she hesitated before finishing her train of thought, giving her comment more impact, "Then maybe you aren't the man that we believe you to be!"

She was looking at me sideways, making sure that she could see my face and the response that her statement had on me. She wanted to shock me, to get my thoughts focused on what we had set out to do, what still needed to be done. She had no idea of the profound effect her words had on me.

"You're right," I said weakly, gathering strength rapidly, as I sorted out the foolishness that cluttered my mind. "They are sentient beings, but they are not human beings. They don't even have the empathy of a wild jungle creature! They cannot be reasoned with. It was foolish of me to feel sorry for them. They have no more meaning, or reason for being here, than the dead skin that flakes off our bodies!

"I wish you could have met Lipton, Loté. He was quite the man. He wouldn't have let empathy toward these creatures ever get in the way or cloud his judgment. You would have liked him," I added softly, not sure why I had thought of Lipton after all this time.

"I would like for you to tell me all about him sometime, Rod," she said gently, showing me compassion for the loss of a friend.

Abruptly, shaking off the melancholy, I said, "Come on, let's see if we can be of help at the lab. Hopefully, Keazar hasn't progressed too far on his sabotaging efforts of the equipment. We have lost enough time already."

"We will still have to wait for the recycling of Brae before we can move on," she said hesitantly. "We can't just leave her and Wary behind. We're still going to need all the able-bodied, weapon-wielders that we can assemble."

"Yes, you're right. We'll have to wait at the lab until Brae is finished," I agreed. "It will give us time to heal our wounds and rest our bodies before making the journey to the next compound."

By the time that we arrived at the lab, Keazar had Brae in an incubator capsule and was about to turn it on. Wary was standing beside it, looking forlornly in on her. Waiting patiently while Keazar finished turning the knobs, I stepped back to admire his work before approaching him with my questions. While I waited on him, Loté went to stand next to Wary, offering him comfort and support.

"How long are we looking at, Keazar?" I asked, once I was certain that he had finished.

"Luckily, my friend, the wound was not very damaging to the area surrounding it. We'll have to wait for the major tissue to repair, and then I will spur her vitals back into action. Although I can save time by spurring the vitals, she will be weak and in need of time to heal when she awakens."

"So how long are we talking?"

"I can probably spur the vitals within twenty-four hours, maybe sooner. Just remember, the sooner I spur her vitals and resuscitate her, the weaker she will be, and the longer she will need to heal."

"Will she be able to travel while she heals?" asked Sheesa, having overheard our conversation as he walked up and joined us.

"That will depend on how long we let the flesh mend before resuscitation. The longer that we can leave her in the incubator, the more strength she will have when she comes out," he replied.

Looking through the glass walls of the control room, I noticed that Linit and Beif had joined Loté, standing vigil with Wary. Though I couldn't actually see Brae lying in her capsule from where we stood, it made me wonder about the occupants of the other capsules.

Turning to Keazar, I asked slowly, "Did you leave the inhabitants of the other capsules where they were?"

"Yes, my friend," he replied questioningly. "With the recycling apparatus sabotaged there wasn't any reason to remove them."

"But with Brae being processed, what will happen to them?"

"How stupid of me!" he reprimanded himself, as he suddenly realized what I was asking him. "Quickly, we must disconnect the other capsules!"

Calmly, Sheesa began yelling orders to his braves, telling them to open the capsules and pull the connections from the creatures within. Then, after thinking for a second, added, "Stab them in the heart! Be sure none live!"

Keazar turned and ran back to the control room, planning to shut down the capsules by using the controls there. Even as I turned to assist Sheesa and his braves, I could see several capsules were already open.

"Loté!" I yelled as I ran toward the nearest open capsule, my knife held high in my right hand. "The other capsules! Quick!"

She turned and, looking in my direction and seeing Sheesa and his braves scrambling among the capsules, quickly realized that something was wrong. Wary, understanding immediately, drew his knife and attacked a being climbing out of a capsule near to where they were standing.

The fight didn't last long, since the clones were weak and unarmed. Several almost escaped through the open door, but Linit and Lazzon had made it there first, effectively stopping all attempts to flee. The fight was good therapy for Wary, giving him an opportunity to lash out at the beings that had done what they had to Brae. With his anger spent, he sat by himself on the floor next to her capsule. However, he was not looking dejected and forlorn as he had earlier. Instead, he looked more like his old self. Yes, he was tired. But he was full of energy and ambition. It was easy to see that, once again, he was looking to the future that he would share with Brae.

"What should we do with the corpses?" asked one of Sheesa's braves, as we gathered outside the control room.

"Leave them where they are, unless they're in the way" I answered without feeling. "We'll be out of here by tomorrow."

After I said it, I found myself hoping that I wasn't being too optimistic. Not only did we have to wait here in the lab until Brae was sufficiently recycled to be resuscitated, but also until she healed enough so that she could safely travel. There wouldn't be any advantage to resuscitating her prematurely if it meant having to carry her while she continued healing. It would be better for everyone, especially with regard to moral, if she came out of the recycling capsule acting like her old self.

Before breaking up, we discussed a rotation plan for sentry duty. It was decided that it would be shared by everyone but Keazar. Keazar was to be excluded from all duties on the off chance that he was needed by Brae. When the shifts were laid out, and the sentries posted, I decided that it was time to take a break. It was too light in the lab and the hallway, so I went in search of a darker tunnel where I could get some real sleep. In case of an emergency, I left word with a brave concerning the direction that I was planning on taking and how far I would be going.

Next, I told Loté of my plans, just in case she wished to join me. She declined, stating that she would stay with Wary in case he needed someone to talk to. Though she didn't intend them to, her words made me feel guilty, knowing it should be I that was staying with him, and not her. But alas, I knew that he would decline my offer. However, he couldn't refuse Loté, whether he wanted companionship or not.

Fortunately, I didn't have to go far to find my solitude. No sooner had I stretched out on my back, with my hands held behind my head, and then sleep found me.

### **21**

I had barely closed my eyes, when I was gently awakened by the touch of a hand, softly stroking my manhood. Lying perfectly still, I listened for any sound that might betray my intruder, while using my keen sense of smell to filter the air. With catlike quickness, I reached out, grabbing the arm attached to the hand. With equal swiftness, a hand grasped my own, the fingers immediately caressing the tender skin between the digits.

It was a woman, her delicately cloying scent playing gently against the sensitive hairs in my nostrils.

Twisting my head up, I searched for her lips with mine, pulling her body tight against my own. Our lips found each other with a burst of passion, kissing long and hard, our tongues exploring the depths of our love. This beautiful, sensuous woman had been lost to me too often before; I would never lose her again! With a sudden pang of guilt, I came crashing back to reality, realizing anew the depth of Wary's grief. How could I have betrayed him so selfishly when he needed me? Unthinkingly, I had put my own petty weariness before his greater feelings of loss and grief!

"Loté," I said, our lips parting and the passion fading from my loins. "I must go and see Wary."

"It's all right," she replied huskily, the fever of her desires stronger than ever. "I don't think Wary needs you right now. In fact, I think he might even regret your intrusion, if I know him and Brae very well."

"Brae? How is Brae?" I asked, slightly confused by her remark.

"Brae is just fine. When I left to come looking for you, she and Wary were looking for their own place to be alone," she said softly, holding back her excitement at sharing the good news with me. "For their sake, I hope they have as good of luck as you did in finding this quiet little hiding place."

"If Brae is finished, then just how long have I been sleeping here?"

"You've been here for over a day, my love," she answered softly, sensuously nibbling on my ear while caressing my manhood back to life. "And I've missed you terribly."

"I've missed you, too," I replied, suddenly unable to resist the hunger that was flaring up inside me. Roughly, pulling her astride my hungry loins, I greedily clenched her firm flesh in my hands, further fueling the burning passion within her.

Our lovemaking lasted for more than an hour; an hour that consisted of heavy breathing, much physical action, and many climaxes. When we finally broke apart, I still wasn't satisfied; I hungered for more of her, despite my fatigue.

Yet, there wasn't time. I would have to be satisfied with the short time that we did have, since the others would be anxious to get moving, now that Brae was ready to travel.

We returned to the lab just as Keazar was finishing with his sabotage work. Looking around, I noticed that Sheesa and his braves had already gotten their packs together and were impatiently pacing, eager to be on the move, possibly even hungry for their next battle. I was about to ask if someone would go and find Wary and Brae when the couple came trotting back into the lab. Judging from their flushed complexions and guilty expressions, they had been enjoying their reunion tremendously.

Warmly, I welcomed Brae back to the living before discussing our marching plans with Sheesa. It took us less than a minute to decide the marching order, before we were in the main tunnel, and heading toward the next compound. Beif and Sheesa were in the lead, while Wary and I brought up the rear. Sheesa set the pace, though he was clearly being pushed by Beif's long strides. Brae had surprised everyone by how quickly she had come around in the recycling capsule. Because of her time in the recycler, she was in better shape than any of us were, and it showed in the ease with which she loped along. I wondered briefly if it wouldn't have been a good idea to put everyone through the process, just to refresh us. But I quickly dismissed the idea. With Jontue still making clones, the risk of losing one's soul was too great.

Throwing a quick glance at Brae, I suddenly wondered if it could have happened with her. Just as quickly, I put the thought out of my mind. If I let the idea fester, it wouldn't be long before I would be wondering if Brae really was Brae or not. Such ideas would serve no worthwhile purpose, but only create distension. Not only did I put the thought out of my mind, I also resolved that I wouldn't share the thought with anyone else, including Loté.

We met little resistance as we worked our way through the myriad of tunnels, steadily making our way toward the next compound. Except for the occasional clone that had escaped from the masses produced, we found little in the way of distractions. The grueling pace being set by Beif and Sheesa, was eating up most of our energy, leaving little else for anything but eating and sleeping. We were less than two day's travel time from the next compound when Sheesa suddenly called a halt.

The intense silence that followed, after listening to the constant drum of our feet against the stone floor, was like a slap in the face. Quickly, and without being told to, everyone drew their weapons and took up defensive positions along the tunnel walls. We all held our collective breaths in anticipation of action. With the center of the tunnel cleared of bodies, I raced to join Sheesa and Beif, where they stood listening and sniffing the air.

"What is it?" I asked softly, as I approached them.

Beif quickly raised his hand to silence me and then slowly, crouching over, started forward. Turning a questioning look toward Sheesa, he too ignored me, only to follow silently after Beif. Turning back, I signaled that the others should remain where they were and then fell in behind them. Although I strained my ears and sniffed the air, I couldn't sense anything out of the ordinary.

We had gone approximately thirty feet when Sheesa looked at Beif and then both looked at me. Something unspoken had passed between them, and I sensed that they had purposely left me out of the loop. Simultaneously, they began to smile, all the while continuing to look at me, Beif, with his double row of oversized teeth, and Sheesa with his yellow stained ones.

"What is it?" I asked in a serious tone of voice. I sensed that a joke was being played on me, and I didn't like it very much. "You two are up to something, aren't you?"

Sheesa finally spoke, unable to hold back the laughter any longer. "It was Beif's idea," he said, breaking out in laughter.

"What idea?" I asked, a flush of anger rising within me, as I looked hard at Beif. If I had been made a fool of, at least they could get on with it and let me know how.

"Beif thought it would be a good idea to break the monotony of the trip with a drill to keep us on our toes. He wanted to test everyone's reflexes in case of an unexpected encounter. And I have to admit, I thought it was a good idea, too, especially since we are getting so close to our destination," he started. "We didn't want to do anything too wild or risky, so I suggested that we just call an unexpected halt." He hesitated before continuing. "Beif suggested that we pretend to sense something up ahead, drawing you with us as we moved forward."

"All right, I fell for it, Beif. Are you happy now?" I replied, trying to stem my anger at being humiliated. Begrudgingly, I had to admit, their little scheme worked very well; it had accomplished everything that they had hoped it would. Everyone reacted together as a team, displaying all the speed and skill of a well-oiled fighting machine. Not a single order had to be given, short of telling the others to hang back.

As I was about to admonish them for not including me in their scheme, Beif suddenly drew his long-knife and swung it at my head. With no time to think, I dropped to my knees, only my swift reflexes saving me from the sharp edge of Beif's heavy blade. With a swish of severed air, the blade of his weapon sliced the air just inches above my head. This sound was followed immediately by the sound of steel connecting with flesh and bone, and a garbled grunt. Before I could move, I felt a warm substance wash over my back.

Pushing off with the balls of my feet, while simultaneously drawing my knife, my legs suddenly went flying out from under me. The floor behind and under me was covered in a warm, slippery coating of blood, and I was unknowingly standing in it. Landing hard on my right elbow, my knife went flying from my grasp, my right arm momentarily numbed from the jarring impact. Pain rocketed through my arm and shoulder, shooting out through the tips of my fingers. Almost as quickly as it happened, I assessed the damage, and with a growing tightening in the pit of my stomach, determined that the bones in my right elbow were shattered.

Sheesa, meanwhile, had pulled his own knife while spinning away to the left. On the edge of my peripheral vision, I saw a glint of torchlight glancing off the edge of a finely honed blade. The glint of light was followed immediately by the sound of metal striking against metal. Holding the ball of my right elbow in the cup of my left hand to prevent it from more damage, I rolled into a sitting position. As I did, I bumped up against something warm and soft; it was the corpse responsible for the fresh blood that had caused my fall. Unable to assist Beif and Sheesa, I frantically backpedaled, slipping and sliding in the sticky mess of blood while forcing the body along ahead of me. My sole intent was just to get out of Sheesa's way and to take the body with me so that he wouldn't trip over it or me.

I had almost made it to the wall when Beif, grabbing me roughly beneath my left arm, jerked me to my feet. Perceiving his intentions, I let go of my right arm and drew the short bladed dirk strapped to my right ankle as he drew me upwards. Before turning to face the enemy, I saw the others running toward us to give assistance. Though I had no idea how large the attacking force was, seeing my friends coming at a run, stirred a sense of relief mixed with pride.

Albeit, my relief was short-lived as, farther down the hallway behind my friends, a second door suddenly slid open, admitting a second outpouring of enemy soldiers!

Unbeknownst to us, Jontue's army had learned of our exact location, catching us between two tunnels adjoining the main hallway. Unfortunately for them, or at least, I hoped it was unfortunate for them, Beif had chosen this particular place in the hallway to wake everyone up. By doing so, he had unwittingly positioned us directly in front of the first open door. Our position granted us the opportunity to box the remainder of the attacking force in behind it. Instead of being able to flow into the hallway in front and behind us, effectively trapping us in the middle, we had half the ambushing force penned up behind a single doorway.

Thanks to the poor leadership of Jontue's soldiers, they had selected tunnels that were only large enough to admit one being at a time. If Loté, or any of the others, had turned around and realized that soldiers were entering the hallway behind them, they could have turned back in time to stem the flow. With our supplies, we could have kept the two forces bottlenecked in their respective tunnels for weeks. Eventually, they would have been forced to retreat and find another route into the hallway.

However, by doing so, they would have lost the element of surprise.

Watching the force behind the others steadily growing in number, I realized that we could not fight them all as long as we were being distracted here. Despite the soldier's deplorable situation, they continued clawing their way out of the tunnel. As quickly, as they cleared the door, we killed them, ruthlessly and without remorse. The bodies soon piled up, blocking our avenue of escape, should we need one. And after looking past the others, at the overwhelming number still pouring into the hallway from the second tunnel, I began to believe that we would need one. Even faster than I had thought possible, the group behind Loté and the others was beginning to swell. Already they stretched from one side of the tunnel to the other, and were many rows deep. Furthermore, they were steadily advancing toward us, the threat of our long-knives not slowing them in the least.

It quickly became clear that we couldn't remain here much longer before having to retreat down the hallway. Beif, perceiving the problem, ordered Sheesa to open the door and stand aside. With grim determination, the giant of a man threw himself against the adjoining wall and, reaching through the opening with his bare arm, jabbed wildly at the crammed occupants with his long-knife. Using his long reach and powerful muscles, he recklessly slashed, blindly flailing his weapon within the confines of the narrow tunnel, slashing and cutting flesh and limb alike. He was a madman on a crusade, and the chorus of screaming and wailing that erupted was the music that he craved.

Cringing against the far wall, while still holding my right arm against my chest, I envisioned the bloody stump that would remain when he finally withdrew his arm. To my surprise, and immense relief, he withdrew an arm that was practically unscathed; none of the occupants within the tunnel was able to retaliate against the fiendish knife wielder.

Turning away from the opening, he reached behind himself and, using his superior strength once more, started throwing the corpses from the hallway back into the tunnel. Within a matter of seconds, there wasn't enough room within the tunnel for the soldiers inside to get past. They were left with either passing the bodies back to the other end of the tunnel, or dismember them where they lay, including the wounded. By dismembering the bodies, they could climb over and through the carnage, making their way back to the door. Either way, it would take them valuable time, leaving us free to fight the growing force from the other tunnel.

When Beif couldn't pack any more corpses into the tunnel, Keazar stepped up and re-closed the door. For the moment, we were faced with only one advancing adversary. Yet, we knew that the door could easily be opened from within the tunnel, once the clones worked their way through the carnage of human flesh; it would serve as nothing more than a way of warning us of their advance.

Without the distraction from the nearer tunnel, we could now turn our full attention on the advancing army. Loté and the others had rejoined us, and were facing the approaching soldiers, watching them come with mixed emotions. Although we were ready to do battle, we had anticipated a more even fight. It was easy to see by the growing number of advancing soldiers that we were sadly outnumbered. The force stretched all the way back to the opening, and they were still pouring through, crowding into the tunnel.

As they drew nearer, we noticed also that they weren't regular soldiers. Unlike the men that we'd fought earlier, these all resembled each other. It was then that I realized why I had assumed they were regular soldiers; unlike the clones that we had encountered in the other compound, these were all bearing weapons. Some were wielding long-knives, while others were carrying spears and clubs. Intermingled among the horde were several bearing torches, their presence adding an almost eerie appearance to the steady advance of human flesh. In the flickering, smoke-hazed light, their common denominator became all too obvious; they all bore a striking resemblance to Keazar!

Watching them slowly advancing toward us, I suddenly realized the main reason that Jontue had used Keazar for the host of his clones, his immense size. It was one thing to fight an opponent that was your size, or smaller, it was quite yet another when the opponent was more than twice your bulk. And despite Keazar's lack of physical training or weapon skills, the clone's tremendous size was psychologically demoralizing.

Without being ordered to, Sheesa's braves quickly formed a human wedge, facing the oncoming clones. Seeing their fighting tactics, I quickly dispatched the others in our group into positions that reinforced theirs, holding back Keazar and the women to cover our backside. With such an organized attack against us, it was also very probable that there would be more clones entering the hallway from farther up, nearer to the labs. Whoever had masterminded this attack, had taken every precaution to guarantee that we would not escape.

I further deduced that these clones were the latest of Jontue's tremendous effort to raise an army. They weren't only armed, unlike the many dead and decaying that we'd encountered earlier, they looked well defined as individuals. They could prove to be our toughest opponents yet!

Taking a quick guess, I estimated that at least four hundred had already entered the hallway, and there wasn't any end in sight. Had it not been for Beif's quick thinking, there would have been enough clones in this hallway by now, to smother us just by their sheer numbers. Thanks to Beif, we still had an escape route, for the time being.

With the clones almost upon us, it quickly became evident that they didn't know how to work as a team. Instead of grouping and coordinating their attack, they came at us single-mindedly, each concerned with only his own efforts. As the first ones reached us, Sheesa and his braves quickly hacked them to pieces. Within minutes, the mound of bodies had created an effective barrier, forcing the ones behind to climb over their dead comrades in order to reach us. Within minutes of the battle starting, Sheesa's braves were forced to abandon their original positions in the wedge. It became necessary for the leading braves to stand down and give the rested ones behind them a chance to carry on the battle. But even then, fewer and fewer of the clones were finding their way through the barricade before one or another of Sheesa's braves were able to clove in their heads and further block the hallway. Even before the wedge disbanded, I could see that my placement of the others as reinforcements behind Sheesa's braves had been a waste of time.

It was quickly becoming clear to me that this wasn't a battle like any other that I'd ever seen before. The attackers not only shared a common physical appearance, but they also shared a single mindedness in their approach to doing battle; they were bent on killing something, or dying trying. There wasn't any room in their minds for an alternative thought; to them, the term self-preservation held no meaning.

Almost as quickly as the fighting started, it tapered off, and then ended completely. With the pile of corpses rising nearly to the ceiling, fewer and fewer clones were clawing their way over the top. Finally, because of their sheer size, they were unable to squeeze between their comrade's dead bodies and the ceiling, effectively blocking the tunnel.

Despite the heavy layer of blood and sweat that covered Sheesa's braves, none had suffered so much as a scratch. Looking at the bloody heap of bodies, I was torn between feeling sorry for the poor creatures and glad to see them dead. Continuing to examine them from a distance, while waiting for the braves to catch their breath, I remained amazed at the close resemblance they each exhibited to Keazar. An occasional twitching motion caught my eye, as dead nerves reluctantly succumbed to rigor mortises. Out of mercy or extreme hatred, I wasn't sure which, one or another brave, spying the twitching limbs, would quickly dispatch of them, severing the twitching limb from its dead counterpart. It was a gruesome act, but preferable to watching the dead continue to move.

When the braves were ready to travel, I turned away from the mound of dead flesh and ordered, "Quick, before they work their way through!"

The words had barely left my lips when I was drawn up short. The others stopped simultaneously, low gasps of surprise escaping from their lips as one. Standing directly in our path, barring any further advance, was a solid wall of soldiers. Even in the well-lit confines of the hallway, it was impossible to see how far this army of well-armed men stretched. My first impression was that they reached all the way to the first lab and beyond. There were hundreds of them, all thirsting for our blood.

As Sheesa's braves took up their wedge position, Keazar went to the door leading into the narrow tunnel where the first clones had emerged. The door had barely begun to slide open when he quickly re-closed it. In the brief instant that I could see in, dismembered body parts were visible. Bloodied stumps of legs, arms, and even heads, were piled waist-deep against the door. All questions of what the clones would do with their dead comrades, was quickly dispelled.

Loté, standing next to me, let out a small cry. Reflexively, she put the back of her hand against her mouth, trying to stifle the impulse to vomit. In that fraction of a second that the door was sliding open, all thought of the army that we now faced had been forgotten. Through that fleeting gap, we had been given a small glimpse into the bowels of Hell.

Grabbing Loté by the hand, I quickly reassured her. "It'll be all right! Just don't think of them as human."

Weakly, she replied with the single word, "Yes."

We all realized that Keazar couldn't just keep closing the door each time they attempted to open it. Shortly, they would find a way to wedge it open, thereby regaining access to the hallway.

Beif was standing closer to Keazar than I was, thus he had a better view into the tunnel before the door could slide back into place. Looking intently at him for a sign of what he had seen, he suddenly put his mouth next to Keazar's ear, quickly whispering some brief instructions to him. Judging from his animated actions, what he had to say was important. However, because of the noise and excitement of the approaching soldiers, I was unable to discern what had transpired between them.

Before I could begin to wonder what it was they had decided, it all became too obvious. Beif, holding a long-knife in each hand, took a position directly in front of the closed door and nodded toward Keazar. Keazar, understanding the signal, reopened the door. As it slid back into the wall, Beif charged through the opening at a crouch. Despite applauding his heroic efforts, he would not be able to clear the tunnel sufficiently for us to use it as an escape route. He would add to the blockage, however, buying us more time. In addition, we wouldn't have to worry about an attack from that side while we confronted the army that approached us from the front.

Looking desperately back at the pile of corpses, many with their sightless eyes facing out toward us, I knew the possibility of retreating in that direction was also hopeless, even if the corpses were removed. By now the hallway behind that mass of bodies was as full of clones as the hallway ahead of us was full of soldiers.

Beif quickly finished his slaughtering rampage in the small tunnel and backed out, still crouching so that he wouldn't hit his head on the low opening. Keazar hadn't left his position by the switch mechanism and swiftly re-closed the door. Without saying a word, Beif walked past the rest of us, his eyes fixed on the horde of waiting soldiers, and went straight to the point position in Sheesa's wedge. Sheesa acknowledged him with a smile, as he honorably relinquished the point to him. Turning back to where I was standing, it was with a sinking feeling that I suddenly noticed how old and tired Sheesa looked. He wanted to discuss our situation, but I didn't see what there was to discuss. As dire as our situation appeared, our options were equally dire; we were trapped between a mountain of dead flesh, and unending hordes of evil!

When the soldiers were less than fifty feet from us, they ground to a slow halt. Looking out over their heads, I could only assume that they were relishing the victory that they felt was imminent to them. Acutely, I knew what they were thinking; the battle wouldn't last long once it began.

Wary, Lazzon, and Keazar joined Sheesa as he came to where I stood, all of them looking to me for a plan of action. Upon seeing the hopelessness in their faces, I realized that it was a reflection of my own demeanor that I was seeing.

"What are we going to do?" Wary solemnly asked. "Keazar says the nearest exit out of this hallway is on either side of these two armies. We all watched Beif's attempt to clear the tunnel, and all his effort managed was to block it even worse."

"He plugged it so that we wouldn't have to worry about clones coming through it when the battle begins," I said appraisingly of his actions. "I know things are looking quite grim here, however, if we just think it through, I'm sure there's something we're overlooking," I added with false bravado. The worse thing that could happen to us now, would be to feel defeated before the battle even began. That would seal our fate as surely as if we just lay down and surrendered.

"Have you noticed that most of those soldiers are wearing breastplates?" Sheesa suddenly mentioned. "And they don't all look like each other."

"Yes, I noticed that. They're soldiers, not clones. So what?" I answered him, confused by his question.

Before I had a chance to ask him to explain, the significance of his remark suddenly dawned on me - Jontue was near at hand!

He had to be! Jontue wouldn't surround himself with beings as evil and unpredictable as soulless clones, only living, breathing soul-bearing men and women; people that he had handpicked and personally recruited to help him run the world after his impending victory.

"Jontue is near," I said softly. "He must have had scouts following our progress, keeping him informed since when we left the lab. That's why the army we're now facing hasn't already attacked. My good friends," I said, the excitement in my voice steadily growing, "For once, we are confronted with an enemy that is every bit as afraid of dying as you and I are!"

"Then maybe they can be reasoned with like normal human beings," added Lazzon, a glimmer of hope in his voice.

"Maybe," I agreed softly. "Jontue!" I yelled toward the waiting army. "Jontue! Let's talk."

There was a moment of silence, followed by a stirring and shuffling near the front of the ranks. Then, almost as if he were materializing out of thin air, Jontue stepped out from behind the first row of soldiers.

### **22**

If I hadn't been watching so closely, I wouldn't have believed that someone of his size could have blended in so well. Until he stepped clear of the leading soldiers, he had been entirely invisible to us.

Smiling broadly, he called back, "You have done well, Captain Rodick! You and your friends have been killing my clones almost as fast as I can make them. Unfortunately for you and your friends, these are not clones that you face now!"

Keazar, speaking up suddenly from beside me, displayed a genuine interest in Jontue's voice. Although we were all about to die, the thought of new knowledge, and the possibility of learning it, was a more powerful attraction to him than any aphrodisiac; he was determined to have his questions answered before he died. I suddenly couldn't help myself, as I burst out laughing; the absurdity of his nature considering the circumstances was more than I could handle.

"Before you kill us, my once trusted friend," he said calmly, addressing Jontue with respect, while throwing me an exasperated look. "Would you be so kind as to share your discovery with me, the one that has allowed you to speed up the recycling process in such a manner? It pains me deeply to think that I may never know how such a breakthrough was accomplished."

"I should have known that you would be more interested in new discoveries than your own demise, Keazar," Jontue replied, chuckling softly. "Maybe someday, I will recycle you, just so that we can sit down and discuss it over a flagon of spirits. But today, my old friend, I have more important matters to attend to, and one of them is your death."

Before he could give the order to attack, Keazar quickly asked, "If you kill us today, how can you be sure that we won't be back in one of your new clones tomorrow? Which is, after all, how I escaped you once before, my 'old' friend?" he retorted sarcastically.

"Yes, I seemed to have outsmarted myself in my haste to manufacture clones from your tissues. I should have given those bumbling fools better-defined instructions with regard to your well-being. But don't worry, old friend, I will not make that mistake again. You see, once I have done away with you and your friends here, I will have no more need of the clones. In the future, I will only use the recycling labs to extend my own life, as well as the lives of my most trusted and devout followers," he added quickly. "And, of course, there will always be those who can afford my moderate prices."

He paused for a moment to catch his breath before continuing, "I had forgotten what a powerful thing it was, which we controlled, when we decided who should live and who should not.

"You probably think that I've been planning this takeover for some time," he went on, buoyed by his feeling of imminent victory. "Believe it or not, it wasn't until we almost lost the power to recycle, that I realized just how powerful our abilities made us. This got me to thinking that, if I had exclusive control of it, I would have exclusive control of the planet, also!"

Keazar, unable to control himself any longer, suddenly cried out, "I built the labs and the compounds! My knowledge and expertise have refined the art of recycling to what it is today! How dare you claim it for your own?"

Linit had moved next to Keazar. At his outburst, she put a reassuring hand on his arm to calm him. Meanwhile, Loté had moved over and was now standing beside me, as had Brae, gone to stand by Wary.

"You may have built the labs into what they are today, but it is my knowledge of cloning, used in conjunction with my revolutionary process of accelerating recycling, that will revolutionize them. You have tinkered with it for more than three thousand years, and yet you have really accomplished nothing. Yes, Keazar, I will recycle you sometime in the future, if for no other reason than to show you how powerful I have become!"

"You will always be a small, selfish man in my book!" I yelled at him. "How can you expect these soldiers to obey you, when they know they can't trust you? Are you going to recycle those killed here today, or are you going to leave their bodies to rot, simply because you no longer need them?"

"You may shed some doubt in their minds," he replied, comprehending my ploy immediately. Yet, despite his bravado, I detected a small hint of nervousness in his voice, as he continued. "But ultimately, they know that I need them as much as they need me."

"So you say," I fired back, hoping to further chip his armor with doubt.

Since our chances of survival against such overwhelming odds were next to none, no matter how bravely we fought, our very existence depended on what I said next.

"Your soldiers understand that Keazar has the same ability to recycle them as you? In addition, Keazar has a reputation as a man that can be trusted. If he commits to a deal, he takes it serious; do these men fighting for you here today believe as solidly in your word? In fact, what will they say, if I offer them eternal life and freedom, in exchange for not attacking us, and instead, returning to their homes? What if I offer them everything you have offered them, and more? Where do they stand then, Jontue? Are they still loyal to you, or are they considering the alternative?"

He was obviously rattled by what I said, but more important, I had created doubt, and it was running rampant through his army. Getting them to turn against Jontue seemed an impossible task. But if I could at least make them consider that what we were offering was a viable alternative, then there was the slightest bit of hope. And the slightest bit of hope was considerably more than we currently had, which was none!

Jontue suddenly realized that his gloating was only wasting time, time that I was using to undermine his standing among his troops.

"Enough talk! It is time for you to die! Attack! Attack them now! Kill them where they stand!" he screamed, pointing at us with his index finger, his arm extended straight out in front of him.

In his frenzied haste to get the battle underway, he failed to consider the consequences of where he stood. In relation to the size of his army, which filled the large hallway for as far as could be seen, and the size of the hallway, he was a very small obstacle.

With a detached interest, I watched as the first of his soldiers swerved to their left and right, avoiding him as they came charging toward us, their voices raised to the ceiling with their weapons held high, as they screamed their war cries. But within seconds, the bulk of his army became nothing more than a stampede of human flesh. My detached interest turned to surprise when Jontue was violently knocked forward by the onslaught of warriors. Knocked off balance, he fell to the floor, landing hard on his knees, while his torso remained upright. The soldiers directly behind him slowed against the rush, trying futilely to help him to his feet. But the advancing soldiers continued driving into them, quickly over-running their feeble position. It was chaos at its worse, as the soldiers behind continued driving toward us, crushing Jontue beneath hundreds of pounding feet. Even before the first soldiers reached our inadequate line of defense, Jontue was a casualty of battle, trampled to death beneath his handpicked army.

Yelling at the top of my lungs, I tried futilely to get their attention. Unfortunately, my voice was lost beneath the many cries and sounds of men preparing themselves for battle. They were more concerned with their own immediate welfare than anything that I might have to say, as they prepared mentally for a fight to the death.

Beif met the charge with a long-knife in each hand, decapitating soldiers to his left and right with his extended reach before they could draw close enough to inflict damage. Sheesa's braves were slowly driven backwards, the unrelenting force of so much human flesh, quickly proving to be more than they could withstand. Beif, valiantly maintaining his ground, was left standing alone, an island amidst the overwhelming number of soldiers. Yet, the sheer number of blade-wielding soldiers was more than even he could properly defend himself against, despite his inhuman efforts. No sooner would he parry one thrusting jab, and then he would be struck a slashing cut to another, less protected part of his body. They were jabbing, ducking, and swirling about him, while I could only watch in horror, unable to assist him while they slowly cut him to ribbons, shredding his skin and flesh so that it hung in loose ribbons from his body.

A brave fell at my feet, a gaping wound laying open the flesh beneath his throat. Bending over, I started to drag his lifeless body out of the way, when I suddenly heard Loté screaming behind me. Spinning around, terror clamping down on my heart, I saw several clones sliding feet first down the pile of bodies behind us. Many more were still at the top, frantically pulling their dead comrades down the backside, working feverishly to widen the gap at the top. It had been Beif's extraordinary height and strength that had created the pile, making it such an effective barricade. Now that it had been breached, we were going to discover how difficult it would be to defend without him. Without his height and reach, we were constrained to waiting at the bottom and attacking the individual clones as they slid down to us; it was impossible for us to reach the top and refill the gap!

With all the help the clones were receiving on the backside, the height of the pile was quickly diminishing. Meanwhile, we were being forced backwards, away from the pile, as our kills fell at our feet, and the number of clones sliding down increased exponentially.

Exhausted, and demoralized by the sheer number of enemies surrounding us, it was with a nervous eye that I kept track of the diminishing amount of space between Sheesa's braves and us. Within a matter of minutes, we would be back to back with them; there wasn't anywhere else to go!

About thirty feet past Sheesa's crumbling wedge, Beif's tall brawny figure could still be seen standing above the soldiers, cutting a swath to either side as they streamed past and behind him. He was putting up a good fight, but fatigue was plaguing his every move, visibly slowing him. Excluding his two white eyeballs, he was covered in a bright crimson coat of blood, making him look more ferocious than he really was. Sadly, I knew it wasn't just the blood of his victims. Slowly, by sheer numbers, the soldiers were getting to him, inflicting wounds before he could parry or kill his attackers. Already, three of Sheesa's braves were down, probably dead, while two others were seriously wounded and barely able to stand.

Lazzon and Wary had moved in to fill the voids created by their loss, while Loté and Brae continued fighting the clones at our backside. Sheesa had moved up to the point of the wedge, taking on the bulk of the attack when Beif had refused to fall back with them. He was also wounded and bleeding profusely from several serious injuries. Despite his good physical condition, and extreme determination, he couldn't sustain much longer. He was an old man that had never been recycled; it could only be his great spirit that kept him on his feet.

Moving from place to place, I gave help where I felt it was needed the most. It was during one of these moves that I saw Beif lose his balance and slip on the blood-covered floor. Like a tall tree in the jungle, he went down, his arms still flailing wildly. Instantly, a swarm of soldiers covered the spot like water closing in over a drowning soul. What little hope that I had left, went down under that swarm of soldiers. So long as Beif had continued standing, openly defying the odds, I had harbored a small glimmer of hope. Now, I didn't even have that. We were all lost. We were just too stubborn to realize it!

Suddenly, like a fire spout on the sunny surface of the planet, Beif came springing back to his feet, shaking off the clinging soldiers like so much debris! The look on his face made me wonder again, at how much he enjoyed killing. He was grinning from ear to ear, showing off his double row of teeth in a mouth that seemed too large for his head. To say that he was an intimidating being would have been an understatement.

Suddenly, seeing the dire situation of his friends, he swung himself around, literally cutting soldiers in half. He could see that we had run out of space to retreat to, as the clones continued their steady encroachment on our backside.

With a resurgence of effort and determination, he started toward us, taking gigantic strides through the melee, cutting down more soldiers as he came. With inhuman strength, he continued forward, swinging his long-knives from side to side, cutting down everything in front of him. Upon reaching Sheesa, he stepped over the dead and wounded that had piled up. Sheesa quickly stepped aside, allowing him to enter our precious little stronghold. His efforts gave Sheesa and his braves a few precious seconds in which to catch their breath, and then the battle continued anew.

Not until Beif was inside the wedge, did I see how serious his condition really was. While he stood well above the attacking soldiers, making it difficult for them to inflict serious wounds to his head and neck, his legs and lower extremities had taken the brunt of their malice. Raw flesh was exposed in wounds that were several inches deep, some showing the stark white of bone as his blood ran out unabated to the floor.

The grin never left his face, as he looked appraisingly from one to the other of us, before moving into position between Loté and Brae. Quickly, never missing a beat, he started chopping and hacking at the clones that were climbing over the mountain of dead bodies. As he killed them, he again used the tremendous strength in his long arms to throw their bodies back, and up. It became a contest between the clones on one side, as they pulled the bodies back toward them, and Beif on this side, as he threw them into the gap.

Shortly, the torrent was slowed. Loté and Brae were again able to handle the few that made it over the pile, while Beif concentrated his efforts on stacking corpses. Soon, with the clones own unwitting help, we were moving the pile backwards, giving Sheesa and the others in the wedge more space to retreat. Unfortunately, I still didn't see any end to the mass of soldiers.

I did see an end to our dwindling energy. Eventually, our strength would fail and we would be overrun. We were rapidly growing fatigued; the battle wouldn't last much longer, and the soldiers weren't taking prisoners. With each precious drop of blood that we lost, we grew one inch closer to our eventual demise.

In the frenzied chaos of the battle, I had completely forgotten about Keazar, never really giving any credence to his fighting ability. When I was suddenly made aware of him, it was only because he was frantically waving his arms to get my attention. Previously, he had been standing guard by the tunnel door, his back pressed against the wall. He wasn't cowering, but rather, he was preventing the door from being opened while staying out of the way of the combatants. Now, he was standing away from the wall, desperately waving his arms. Though his voice was lost in the roar of the battle, I could sense the urgency in his gestures. Whatever was bothering him, it had to be of dire importance, for him to distract me from the battle at hand.

Before hurrying to him, I glanced quickly in Loté's direction, assuring myself of her safety. Upon seeing her holding her own, for the moment, I hurried over to his side and put my ear to his mouth so that I could better hear him. Instead, he grabbed my shoulder and turned me toward the army of soldiers, pointing enthusiastically down the hallway. At first glance, I didn't comprehend what was making him so animated. But then, after adjusting my gaze to look over and beyond the heads of the soldiers, I instantly recognized the business end of a large molecular-detonating device. My first reaction was one of total dismay and hopelessness, since there wasn't any way that we could hope to defend against a tool of such destructive power.

As quickly, as the feeling of hopelessness washed over me, another feeling of even greater impact replaced it, one of utter confusion. Although I recognized the piece of machinery for what it was, I had never seen one in use. The depth of my experience consisted solely of what Lute had told me of them during his talks about the time he spent in Lord Balzar's army. Based on what he had said, not only would we be destroyed by the blast, but also everything between it and us; that 'everything' included the late Jontue's entire army!

My mind was still reeling with the possibilities of what was to come, when Keazar shook me to get my attention again, and started yelling excitedly into my ear.

"I don't think they're even aware that it's behind them!" he yelled, clearly pointing to indicate the soldiers. "If they were, they would be withdrawing by now, leaving the molecular-detonator to do its work!"

He had a point, and it immediately set me to wondering. If the soldiers weren't aware of the device behind them, then they also weren't in control of it. So who was?

The question only left me more confused. As I was about to voice my concern to Keazar, a distinct ripple ran through the mass of soldiers. The soldiers nearer the rear had realized that a detonator device had been brought into position behind them. As word of this new peril at their rear coursed its way to the front ranks, so did a lull in the drone of the battle. Slowly, the sound of fighting diminished, leaving an eerie silence to fill the void.

As our ears adjusted to the silence, the serenity was broken only by the heavy breathing of fatigued men and women, mingled with occasional moans of anguish and pain coming from the many wounded. Even softer, we could hear the sounds of the clones behind us as they continued laboring to remove the bodies in the gap. Occasionally, the peace was broken by a cry of pain, as one or another of the wounded cried out for help.

Our survival suddenly depended on my ability to take advantage of this opportunity that had fortuitously presented itself. My mind was racing with questions. Was it possible that Jontue had brought the device in beforehand as an insurance marker, on the off chance that we prevailed?

Yet, I couldn't bring myself to believe that for a minute; Jontue was much too sure of his combined armies of real soldiers and clones to have bothered with such a destructive piece of equipment. Besides, the molecular-detonator was a mining tool, not a weapon of mass destruction. Very few individuals had the expertise to use it. Because of its extreme hunger for energy, which was expensive and cost prohibitive, slaves were much more desirable, if a tad slower.

So, who had brought the device, and more importantly, what were their reasons for doing so? I needed an answer to that question before I could even begin to form a plan of action.

"Keazar," I whispered softly so that only he could hear me. "Can you see who or what is in control of it?"

Keazar moved slightly, stepping up on top of several bodies that had fallen at the base of the wall. The extra height put him above the heads of the soldiers, but even the height wasn't enough to compensate for the distance.

From where I stood, I guessed the distance to be at least three hundred yards, possible farther. The detonator device, visible only because it sat almost as high as the ceiling, was also plated across the front with a heavy shield, making it even more difficult to see the operator.

Frustrated by my own ineffectual efforts to see who or what was at the controls, I decided to confront one of our enemies to learn the extent of their knowledge regarding it. As I openly moved toward the nearest soldier, Beif hurriedly limped up beside me and said, "There is a woman manning the controls."

"A woman!" I blurted. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure it is a woman. She is very beautiful, too. I cannot be sure, from this distance, but it appears that she is arguing with the soldiers nearest to her."

"Who's with her?" I asked urgently.

"I cannot see anyone near the device except the woman. It looks as if the soldiers are threatening to attack her, but they seem hesitant to do so," he said, standing in a growing puddle of his own blood.

"Beif, I know that you're hurting, and I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but do you think you can lift Wary to your shoulders? He has the best eyes of all of us. Maybe he can see something that you're missing."

Wary, listening to our conversation, cautiously moved back from the wedge, unconvinced that the lull in the battle meant that it was safe to leave a gap. The soldiers, though watching us carefully, seemed content to wait on the outcome of learning the same information that we desired.

"Keazar, take his place," I said quickly, before turning toward Beif. "Put him down if he's more than you can handle."

Wary got ready and then Beif picked him up and held him above his head. If Beif hadn't been injured, the effort would have been nothing for him. However, due to the seriousness of his wounds, it was everything that he could do, just to hold him up.

Wary had barely risen into the air when he let out a whoop, shattering the precarious silence. "It's Elsa!" he cried, frantically waving his arms to get her attention. "Elsa! Elsa!"

"Are you sure? She should be back at the lab with Lute. What would she be doing here?" I asked of no one in particular.

In our excitement, we had completely forgotten Beif. That is, until he suddenly collapsed beneath Wary's weight.

"Quick, Loté, the medical bag," I cried as Wary sprang off his inert form and landed on his feet.

Knowing there wasn't anything I could do to help, I left Loté to attend to Beif, confident that he was in the best of hands. Unless we did something quick, we would all be in worse shape than even he was. Although the soldiers had stopped, momentarily, the clones were still moving bodies from behind us, and it wouldn't be long before they broke through the barricade again. We could easily keep the clones at bay, so long as the soldiers didn't attack. However, I had a sick feeling that a renewed battle with the clones would be enough of a spark to re-ignite the whole battle. We needed to do something quick. If Wary was right, and it was Elsa behind the device, where was Lute? Lute would know how to operate the thing. However, I was equally sure that Elsa didn't, or if she had even seen one before.

"How can it be Elsa, Wary?"

"I don't know, Rod, but my eyes weren't deceiving me, it was definitely Elsa."

We were out of options. Even if the nearer soldiers had overheard us, the majority hadn't. It was time to act. We would pretend to know all about the device and who was in control of it. In short, I was going to bluff.

Walking up beside Sheesa, to where he still stood his ground at the point of the wedge, I told him to go see Loté about his wounds. As an afterthought, I added that he should take anyone else that had more than just flesh wounds with him. However, he needed to be quick, and not to let his guard down. For some reason, I was sure that if I could get the soldier's attention, they would rather listen to what I had to say, then to continue a battle for a leader that was already dead.

Standing alone at the point of the wedge, I made an exaggerated gesture of putting my knives back in their sheaths as the forward ranks of soldiers turned their attention toward me.

"Listen, my good men!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "Our battle has never been with you. It is only our intention to restore peace and order after the cataclysm brought on by the negligence of the former Lords. We have never intended to kill anyone or anything, except the evil beings that have been killing and maiming the innocent of our planet; we only want to eradicate our planet of these soulless creatures that Jontue made to fight his unholy battles. We are offering you a chance to surrender."

A roar of protest quickly erupted from the soldiers before I could continue. In the briefest of moments, I felt sure that I had blown our opportunity. However, aside from a few lingering grumbles, the voices quickly died down, and silence returned to the hallway. Their reaction told me that they were as tired of fighting as we were. If they were not, the battle would have already resumed.

Repeating myself for emphasis, I continued, "We are offering you a chance to surrender, not to be our prisoners, but to be our allies! Under our laws, it is guaranteed that you can live for as long as you choose! In return, we ask only that you live in peace and contribute positively to society."

A growing murmur was sweeping through the ranks as the ones nearer to us spread the word to those that were out of earshot. Hiding my excitement, I could tell by the general nodding of heads that I was winning converts, and none too soon; just then, the first of the clones behind us broke through the crumbling barricade.

The soldier nearest to me quickly took stock of the situation and decided that he liked what he heard. With his weapon held high over his head, he yelled for his comrades to attack.

In a wave of human flesh, the tide flowed in and through us, the soldiers charging against the breach in the barricade of dead corpses. Sheesa stood aside, taking refuge against the wall to his left. Soldiers continued pressing forward, more of them coming to do battle than the narrow confines of the battlefield would allow. Even in their anxiety, they were careful not to step on the wounded that lay in the middle of the floor and were unable to get out of their way. Loté stood her ground, continuing to kneel beside the big man, applying salve to his open wounds before wrapping them in bandages to keep the flies from infecting them.

Within a matter of minutes, the soldiers had repaired the breach in the barricade and the fighting was over. Working my way over to where Sheesa was leaning against the wall, I felt a tremendous feeling of joy mixed with relief sweeping through me. Wary reached him at the same time and we were soon joined by the soldier that had sparked the attack against the clones.

Extending my hand to him, I introduced myself first, and then the rest of our party. He, in turn, introduced himself as Layton, a former sergeant in Lord Thar's army, now just another foot soldier in the late Jontue's army. He ended his introduction with the words, "At your service." I took an instant liking to him, knowing intuitively that he was a fair and just human being.

"Sergeant Layton, do you think you could persuade some of these men to help us with the wounded? We need to move everyone back beyond the detonating device," I asked seriously, turning my gaze in the direction of the device.

"Aye, Captain," he replied in high spirits, while snapping a brisk salute.

Sergeant Layton did as he said he would, quickly snapping orders to the soldiers that were within hearing. I was immediately impressed by the manner in which they responded to his commands. I had judged him correctly. With a very brisk manner, Sergeant Layton started moving through the ranks of his soldiers, checking on the wounded and seeing that they were being attended to. All the while that he continued snapping off new orders and seeing to the small details that make things flow smoothly and effortlessly, he never stopped showing a genuine concern for his men. He was a very thorough man; in no time, I could see the tide of soldiers moving past the detonating device and out of sight down the hallway.

"Stay here and see that everyone is taken care of, Wary. I'm going to find out who's really in control of that thing," I said, moving away from the wall and working my way through the sluggishly moving mass of bodies.

As I worked my way forward, I soon became amazed at the amount of damaged that we had inflicted. In addition to the large amount of blood covering the floor, there were dead bodies and wounded soldiers scattered everywhere. It didn't take me long to overtake Layton; he was busy, seeing to all the details involved in clearing a battlefield.

"Make certain that we don't leave any of the dead behind, Sergeant," I said, working my way past him.

He nodded and smiled in acknowledgment, happy to be doing what he enjoyed the most. As long as he was treated fairly, he would be a dependable ally. I suspected also that his future was going to entail a long tour of duty as the commander of the Heälf Recovery Services.

When I was almost to the molecular-detonator, I saw the woman standing behind it, looking confused, and not understanding why the soldiers were marching past her. Despite realizing that the soldiers were not going to attack her any longer, she continued to remain at the controls of the gigantic piece of machinery. She saw me at the same moment that I saw her, and we recognized each other immediately. Her face lit up with excitement and relief, as she jumped down from the control platform, and came charging through the river of moving men. She was screaming my name and waving her arms, as I, likewise picked up my pace to get to her.

Ready to grab her and give her a big hug, she suddenly came to an abrupt stop, less than two feet from me, just beyond the grasp of my arms. When I continued advancing to embrace her, she threw her arms up in front of herself, preventing me from giving her anything more than a clasp on the shoulders.

Squeezing my shoulders like a long lost male friend, I was confused by her sudden change of heart. Was this really the same person that had just moments before, been charging against the flow of soldiers to reach me?

"Elsa! My God, am I glad to see you!" I cried out. "You saved our lives! Come, the others are just up the hallway apiece. You can't imagine how anxious they are to see you again!"

Taking her by the hand, I shook off the frigid encounter, and started leading her against the shuffling flow of soldiers. It took us twice as long to reach the others as it had taken me to reach her, because we had to move carefully to avoid banging into wounded soldiers or those helping the wounded.

Loté jumped up at the sight of her friend just as several soldiers were raising Beif between them. As Beif was being carried away, Sheesa and his braves picked up their own fallen, and fell in behind. Except for half a dozen soldiers that Layton ordered to stay behind to guard against the clones, the hallway was quickly emptying.

I was quick to notice that Elsa didn't have any trouble hugging Loté or Linit. However, like me, Wary and Keazar each received a rather cool, standoffish, reception. As for Lazzon, she merely shook his hand. It reminded me of a man being introduced to a man, and not a woman. It was a happy moment for us. In the excitement, I quickly forgot my unease. In fact, in the spirit of the moment, I almost forgot that the war wasn't over yet. Behind that wall of dead flesh was a mass of evil that was dying to get to us, a mass of evil that couldn't be reasoned with.

"We'll have to resume this party at another time," I said quickly upon seeing movement near the top of the barricade. "Right now we must get out of here."

After gathering our packs, I turned to the remaining soldiers, giving them instructions to give us a head start before coming at a run. As an afterthought, I ask if any of them had any experience with the detonating device. Elsa, hearing the question, was quick to point out that she knew how to operate it, and didn't require any help.

"You'll have to tell us how you came to learn this new trade, Elsa," I said appraisingly. She only smiled in response.

Excluding the blood that covered the hallway floor and walls, everything else, from bodies to weapons, had been carted off by the retreating soldiers. Layton had made sure that his troops were very thorough, not missing anything of value in their withdrawal. As we marched toward the detonating device, the only sound was that caused by our feet slapping the wet sticky floor. Though we were all dying to exchange stories with Elsa, we walked in silence, keeping our questions and stories to ourselves for the time being. Elsa would tell us what happened to Lute, and how she ended up in this hallway with the device, when she was ready. We had one more chore ahead of us; then we would have all the time in the world to talk.

Layton was waiting for us by the detonating device, anticipating our next move. With the hallway cleared, excepting the six soldiers guarding the barricade, he wanted to stay and help. However, I felt his services would be put to better use in the labs. Asking, more than ordering, I suggested that he accompany Keazar and Linit. With the volume of bodies that needed recycling, they could use all the help they could get. With his ability at commandeering soldiers, things would proceed much easier and quicker. Pulling Keazar aside at the last minute, I ask him to include Sheesa's braves in the first batch to enter the incubators. It was the least that we could do after everything they had done for us. Besides, he would be anxious to return to his tribe. He had to be very concerned about the welfare of his women and children.

"And let him know that we will be sending out soldiers to retrieve his other braves' bodies just as soon as we get some order established. Tell him not to select a replacement for his heir, just yet," I added in good spirits.

"Maybe I will get Sheesa into a capsule and he won't need an heir, my friend," answered Keazar with a wink, as he and Linit joined Layton and headed for the labs.

Wary gave a shrill whistle, letting the soldiers at the other end of the hallway know that it was time to come on the run. Elsa, meanwhile, having jumped up on the control platform, began making adjustments. Climbing up beside her, I watched the soldiers sprinting toward us. In their wake came a growing stream of clones, already having overrun the place where we'd made our stand. Fortunately, due to their large size, they were unable to match the agile speed of the soldiers, and quickly fell behind.

"Do you want to tell me what happened to Lute?" I asked softly, careful not to interrupt her concentration.

"I'll tell you later," she replied, equally softly. "For now, let it be enough that his soul lives."

"Then let me ask you this, how have you come to know how to use a weapon of this magnitude? Surely you didn't learn this from the rebels during your slave days under Lord Balzar?" I teasingly pressed her.

"I will gladly explain everything later. For now, let's just concentrate on the business at hand," she tartly replied.

"What are you two discussing up there?" asked Loté, coming around to the backside of the platform.

"Elsa's just explaining the capabilities of the device," I replied quickly, not wanting to explain how I was hitting her with a barrage of questions.

"Layton's soldiers are almost here, Rod," she said, and then added, a tone of urgency in her voice, "and the barricade is almost gone. It's not slowing them at all, anymore!"

"Okay, Elsa, let's put this thing to work. Fire a detonation beam that grazes from the walls to the ceiling and burns the bloodstains off the floor. Set it for maximum penetration and don't let up until it reaches overload temperatures. Let's burn those bastards all the way to Hell and back!" I said fiercely.

"Everyone, stand back!" she cried out, looking through the electronic sight and making a final adjustment.

When she was satisfied that everyone was safely behind the armor plating, she took one last look through the sights, then dropped the radiation shield. Already, there was a solid mass of beings more than halfway to us, and no end in sight.

"Everyone, turn your eyes away and don't look until I give the all-clear!" she cried out, and then turned to the firing button.

I had to fight the temptation to look. As badly as I wanted to see the creatures destroyed, if I dared even a small peek, I would be rendered blind. At least, I would be blind until such time that I could take a trip through the recycling apparatus. Under normal circumstances, if there ever were such things, I would probably have risked it. However, with all the dead and wounded that needed attending to, the machines would be busy for a long time to come; I fought the temptation.

No sooner had I turned my head and closed my eyes, and then I felt a warm breeze being sucked out of the hallway from behind me. It wasn't until later that I realized this breeze was the back draft created by the device. Air was rushing past us, filling the void left behind by the destructive energy, which negated everything in its path, including air molecules.

The device had been originally designed and built as a tool for excavating tunnels. The beam could easily be adjusted, rendering it harmless to human beings. Or, at the other extreme, detonating individual molecules with super microwave intensity. Because of the manner in which it functioned, was also the reason for its name; molecules are literally detonated by the extreme form of energy subjected to them by the device. The energized beam of particles, which do all the actual damage, could also be adjusted to any desired width and height, depending on the size of the new tunnel required.

The part that I wasn't aware of was the silence that it created when activated. Sound waves, which are nothing more than excited air molecules, become nonexistent, as the detonating force flows through them, effectively nullifying them.

When I heard Loté gasp, I knew the gun had shut itself down, again allowing sound waves to exist. She had been the first to open her eyes and look down the hallway. Now we all turned in unison. Nobody said a word as we stared in disbelief at the sight laid out before us.

The clones were gone, as was the barricade of dead carcasses. That, in and of itself, was the least of our surprise, though. The farther from us that the hallway stretched, the thicker became the coating of ash that covered it. Stretching from floor to ceiling, not leaving any part untouched, it turned progressively darker.

That is, until just before it reached the spot where the corpse barricade had once been. At that point, it just ceased to exist. The hallway was no longer a hallway beyond that site. Instead, a crude tunnel had been literally scorched through solid rock. Here and there, farther into the dark, gaping mouth, were bits and pieces of the old hallway, the smooth white surface still intact and blaring against the surrounding black ash. At approximately half the distance to the end of the hallway, all the lights had gone out, their plastic grills melted and hanging down like stalactites. It was impossible to determine how far this tunnel continued into the dark abyss. However, I strongly suspected that at some point it changed back to an unblemished hallway, complete with functioning lights.

Stepping down from the small platform, I moved around to stand in front of the now silent device. I was having a hard time believing what I was seeing. Because of their inherent danger, and huge appetite for energy, these machines had been put away in storage. With labor being cheaper than the price of energy, they had mostly been forgotten; expendable slaves had become the preferred source of labor. At some point in time, someone had rediscovered them. Now, however, their primary use was for military purposes, and then, only as a threat, a dangerous bargaining chip.

"Can you dismantle this thing?" I asked of Elsa, as she stepped up beside me, looking blankly ahead with the same disbelief and shock on her face as the others.

"I'll fix it so that it can never be used again," she said flatly, her voice conveying the depth of her shock.

"We'll give you a hand. Let's get started," I gently urged her.

My fear of this weapon was not one that I shared alone. Anyone who has witnessed its destructive capabilities would also partake in this fear.

With Elsa's supervision, it didn't take long to dismantle. With a passion built on fear, we destroyed some of its key parts, effectively making sure that it would never be able to function as a weapon again.

When we were done, I stood back and took one last look at it. Satisfied with our job, I suggested that we head for the lab. We were all tired, exhausted, and our water supplies were growing low. Slowly, we made our way toward the nearest lab, and the cavern that adjoined it. The idea of jumping into a pool of water, cleansing all the blood and grime off our weary bodies, was suddenly more than we could stand. Shaking off the tremendous burden for the first time since leaving the first lab behind, we ran laughing and screaming into the main cavern at a dead run, aiming directly for the pool that all the main caverns contained.

Most, if not all of Layton's soldiers, had retreated to the cavern. They were either waiting their turn for an incubator, or resting and relaxing. Upon our arrival, those that were able, jumped to their feet, and started applauding. A soldier with a strong bass voice began chanting. Others quickly joined in and, within seconds, the sound of their voices was ringing off the walls; they were singing praise to us!

Freezing in our tracks, momentarily forgetting all about the pool of warm water, we stood, humbled by this show of appreciation.

Layton entered the cavern, having just come from the lab, and started chanting, "All hail Rod." He repeated the phrase until others picked it up. Within moments, everyone had joined in with him.

When I couldn't stand anymore, I raised my arms for silence. Waiting until their voices tapered off, I genuinely thanked them. Not only did I thank them for my friends and myself, but also on behalf of the future of Heälf. Someone produced several flagons of potable liquids from the food storage room and began passing them around. Even if the locker was fully stocked, which I highly doubted, there wouldn't be enough for every man in this cavern to have much more than a small sip, much less become drunk and unruly. Since I wasn't so naive to think that there weren't at least one or two dissenters among the crowd, I was thankful for this little blessing.

A small group gathered close to Layton and me. Securing one of the few flagons, they made sure that we all got a sip before it disappeared into the general throng of soldiers. After much handshaking and many introductions, Loté and the others managed to escape to the pool. When it became obvious that I wasn't going to lose Layton, I invited him to join us at the pool. To my surprise, he declined my offer, preferring, he said, to mingle among his men. Leaving him, I went to rejoin my friends. Once I was surrounded by the ones that I loved, I felt a strong desire to find out what had happened to Lute.

The pool was just large enough that we all managed to fit in. The water was warm and relaxing, quickly soothing our sore, tired muscles into apathy. Before long, the sight in the hallway had become nothing more than a distant memory. Occasionally, a soldier would stroll over and introduce himself, usually bearing food for us from the locker. Most of them just came over to apologize for having taken up arms against us, swearing their future loyalty. From listening to their talk, I quickly deduced the depth of their respect for Layton. Even before I gave him back his title as Sergeant, his fellow men had looked toward him for guidance and leadership. Many had resented Jontue, simply because he hadn't acknowledged Layton's rank.

Just as I was about to question Elsa, with regard to Lute, Keazar and Linit entered the cavern, also having come from the labs. Knowing that they must be even more tired than we were, I quickly stood up, offering them my place in the pool. Lazzon and Wary also jumped to their feet, offering their places as well. Keazar, however, insisted that he didn't care to get in. Instead, he sat on the stone lip, facing out toward the main body of the cavern. Moving to sit on the stone lip beside him, we watched as Linit slid into the water next to Loté, relishing the soothing warmth with a long sigh.

"How did the device work, my good friend?" Keazar asked with a grin.

"I think you already know the answer to that one," I said, feigning sarcasm. "Did you happen to get Jontue's body into a capsule?"

"Why, of course, my good friend! I knew you would want him ahead of everyone else," he replied, also feigning sarcasm.

With the bulk of stress removed from our shoulders, it was easy to laugh at the irony of our statements. But all too soon, we turned the conversation toward a more serious subject.

"What did you really do with Jontue's body?" I asked.

"Enough has been put away in a safe place, which only I can get to, and the rest of his remains were burned to ashes," he replied solemnly.

"I am sorry, Keazar, that it turned out like this. We all know what a dear friend he has been to you over the years. I'm sure it's not easy for you to accept."

"It's okay," he said. Turning to face Elsa, his demeanor gradually growing lighter, he asked, "Now, maybe you can tell us why you had to leave Lute back at the other lab, my dear lady."

Nervously, almost guiltily, she glanced from one to the next, trying to secure support, and not sure where to begin.

Loté, sensing her plight, said, "It's okay, Elsa. We understand that it wasn't easy for you. It must have felt as if you were abandoning him."

She suddenly broke out laughing, a tiny voice inside her saying, "If they only knew."

When the laughing fit subsided, she explained that she would have to start at the beginning, if they were ever to understand. With all of us urging her on, she quickly outlined her tale. Lasting more than an hour, she finally came to the point where, with Lute's expertise, she had managed to maneuver the device into the hallway. It turned out to be a stroke of luck that prevented the soldiers from discovering them until they were in position. Lute figured out that the only enemy the soldiers were expecting was Rod and his friends. Elsa related how thrilled she was, by Lute's conclusion, that their friends had made it this far. With so much activity in the tunnels, Jontue had left the labs virtually unmanned and unguarded.

"We were lucky that they turned out to be regular soldiers and not clones, or the bluff would never have worked," I said. "The clones wouldn't have hesitated in their killing frenzy to consider their own demise. What would you have done then?"

"The only thing we could do of course, use the detonator!" she replied casually.

"But you would have killed us right along with the clones! Did you ever consider that?" I asked, disturbed by her seeming lack of concern for our lives.

"I guess I have a lot of faith in Lute," she said simply, and then giggled as Lute said something to her. "Lute says that he would have adjusted the power of the device to stop within feet of where you were making your stand. I believe him."

She hesitated for a moment, while cocking her head to the side and listening to the voice within, before turning to face Keazar with her next question. "Lute wants to know when you'll be able to put him back into a body of his own, Keazar."

"I have been giving that some thought," he started nervously, not meeting Elsa's gaze. "I'm afraid that without his body, or the tissue samples that we disposed of, I am at a loss as to where to begin. I will have to work on it. I'm sorry, Elsa, truly I am. But I simply cannot guarantee you how long my studies will take. Although, I have always understood that there was a risk of something like this happening, in all my years of recycling, I've never actually encountered it. It is quite an interesting concept, and I truly look forward to engaging it."

Elsa sat silently for a moment before saying, "We have the greatest of confidence in you, Keazar, and we know you will do everything in your power to restore Lute to a body of his own. For now, we will be content with that."

"You both are very kind," he replied, acknowledging the compliment and show of faith. "I promise you, I will do all that I can to expedite the matter."

"I have a question, my friend," I said casually, addressing Keazar. "I can understand Jontue wanting to clone a being the size of Beif. If he had been successful, he would have had an army to reckon with. But where exactly did he come across that giant of a man? Surely, there must be more than just the one of him."

Keazar thought for a moment, glad for the change of subject. "As you well know, I have been inhabiting this planet for more than three thousand years. However, to this date, he is the first of his kind that I have seen. If any of the lords had come across a race of beings similar to him, they would have considered it a real find, especially Lord Thar. He would have been quick to exploit such a race for use in his mines. No, I am afraid Beif is not of a specific race, but rather, a genetic alteration that took place during one of Jontue's earlier cloning attempts."

"Is it possible that he is an offspring of yourself?" I asked tenuously, knowing the consequences inferred by an affirmative answer.

Keazar wasn't the only one that grasped the full meaning of my question. The silence around the pool suddenly descended with all the weight of a heavy fog, all were holding their collective breaths. If he was indeed an offspring of Keazar through the cloning process, then he indisputably lacked a soul!

"I don't see how that's possible, my dear man," he flatly replied.

"Then, you are suggesting that you don't suspect him of being a clone. Is that what we are to understand?" I pressured him, forcing him to respond irrefutably one way or the other.

"I no more suspect him of being a clone, than I do of you being one. Or any of the rest of you!"

"That's good enough for me," I said.

There was a general consensus among the others that it was good enough for them, too.

"I am sure that when he is out of the incubator, we will find out all about his history. He has probably just been an oddity to his people since the day that he was born. And if that is not the case, then I am sure that something happened during the recycling process that mutated one of his genes. Whichever it is, I am sure there is a logical explanation for his being the way that he is," added Keazar, justifying his reasoning for the way he felt.

"How long will it be before you can resuscitate him?" I asked casually.

"He is a large man, my friend, but his wounds were not fatal, only his loss of blood. I expect he will be up and around within two days," he gladly replied. Then, almost sounding clandestine, he asked, "Is there some specific reason that you desire to know."

"Yes, as a matter of fact, there is," I casually replied. "We have two more labs to liberate before we will be finished with this business that Jontue started, I was hoping to ask him to join us."

"You are aware that you will have to go on without Linit and me," he said with obvious disappointment. "We have way too much work to do here with all the dead and wounded."

"It will not be easy, without your wit and charm to entertain us. But I am sure that we will manage somehow," I said sarcastically, holding back a laugh.

"When I left the lab, I mean, when we left the lab," started Elsa. "There were very few clones there. If I, I mean we, are not needed on this mission, I would like to remain here with Keazar and Linit."

"Are you sure?" asked Loté sincerely.

"Yes, I am sure," she thoughtfully replied. "I believe that you will do your best to find Lute's body while you are there, but I feel my greater chances are here with Keazar."

Loté reached out and held her hand comfortingly while Keazar only looked away nervously. We all shared this feeling of trust in Keazar that Elsa felt, even if Keazar didn't feel it within himself.

"We will rest here until Beif is ready to travel," I quickly suggested, drawing the attention away from Keazar. "I don't feel that we have to worry about more clones being manufactured in the interim. We will take only the healthy soldiers with us that desire to go, along with Layton, of course. Anyone that wants to remain behind to assist Keazar and Linit is free to do so. Keazar can organize search parties as more men come out of the incubators. I can't stress enough, the importance of retrieving all of Sheesa's fallen braves."

"I am sure Sheesa will be grateful for that, but he must be made aware of the fertility problems involved with recycling," said Lazzon. "I have gathered that heritage is what his tribe is based on. It would not do for such a tribe to have an infertile sire."

"Yes, you are absolutely correct, Lazzon," affirmed Loté. "He would be thrilled to have his heir back, but would he still appoint him as the next leader, knowing that he was infertile? And would he need to appoint anyone, if he were given eternal life?"

"I don't know the answers to those questions," I said. "But I do know that Sheesa must be made aware of them. They are questions he will have to consider, as the leader of his tribe."

"Unless I can restore fertility to a previously recycled body," added Keazar. And then, sounding more optimistic than ever, he added, "After I manage to restore Lute to a body of his own, of course."

Elsa's face lit up as she sensed the subtle change in Keazar's demeanor. "Do you really believe that you can do something?" she cried out hopefully.

"Let's just say that an idea has come to me," he said in a conciliatory tone, a smile creeping over his face. "You must understand that until we can free up a couple of capsules to experiment in, you'll have to be patient."

"We can wait," she said excitedly, before bursting out and saying, "Oh thank you, Keazar!" as she flung her arms around his neck.

Keazar flushed with embarrassment at her outburst of joy. I strongly believed that, as did everyone else that knew Keazar, he wouldn't have said anything to raise her hopes, if he didn't truly have an idea that bolstered his confidence. Undeniably, I was glad for Lute and Elsa. It suddenly dawned on me that I might have to make a choice between Layton and Lute for the position of 'Commander in Chief' of the Heälf Rescue Services. Although I was leaning toward Layton for the simple reason that he outranked Lute by one stripe, deep down inside, I felt that whichever way I decided, it would be a good decision.

As I glanced around at the group of people surrounding me, all of which, I felt honored to call my friends, I knew that we would succeed. Heälf would be restored to a greater and more prosperous time than it had ever known. There would be no conflict, nor slavery, nor any of the other past evils perpetrated by the previous hierarchy. Heälf would be a planet where all men were treated equally and with respect. No one's future would be shackled by steel manacles, only the extent of his individual drive and desire.

Despite the time that had passed, I hadn't forgotten my promise to help Loté find her parents. It was irrelevant that we were facing overwhelming odds that grew direr with each passing day, we would return to the planet's surface just as soon as we could, picking up where we had left off.

It was a safe assumption also, that Jontue never opened the gates to the planet's surface, as he had promised that he would. It was still a priority of mine, to open up both spheres of this world to all of its inhabitants. Neither surface dwellers, nor subsurface dwellers, should be confined to either hemisphere. Keazar would have to see to the gates, along with all the other duties that would be put upon him. Yet, because he was a master of delegation, he wouldn't find any of his duties a chore. And even if he wasn't sure of himself, he was capable of everything that we needed from him.

Meeting Loté's upturned gaze, I looked deep into her dark, limpid pools. She was every bit as anxious to be back on the surface as I. She was also anticipating the day when recyclees could be made fertile again. Damn, how I was looking forward to those days, too!

### This is The End for now. Please pick up the continuing adventures of Rod and his friends with the next exciting story in the series- DAY OF NIGHT.

More Exciting Stories by Will Decker:

DRIVEN

UNREQUITED LOVE

FIRE BABY

HYBRID KILLERS

The 'HEÄLF' Collection:

MORTALITY REVISITED

CLONE WARS

DAY OF NIGHT

REGENERATIONS

HORSPAW

The 'Mac" Collection:

THE WITNESS

TOXIC RAIN

BETRAYAL

RECORD KEEPER

DEATH IN THE DUNES

WIT-SEC FAIL

SIMPLY PERFECT BINDING 2ND Ed.

If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to leave a review. Authors starve or eat based on reviews. Thanking you from the pit of my stomach, Will

