NIGHTWIND’S ARM FLEW up to protect his neck. But the ponderous bulk of the sandcat never struck. Heuser charged like a bull across the throne room and smashed into the creature. His small frame grappling with the animal appeared ludicrous.
No one could have given the cyborg one chance in a million — but still he fought. The Guardian held back; that helped. But Heuser’s artificial strength was the single factor saving Nightwind’s life. The cyborg was able to grab the sandcat in midair and carry it off target. In that instant, cyborg and sandcat crashed to the floor, a heap of flailing arms and legs. Teeth snapped mightily. Heuser avoided the brutal bite. Forcing his arm under the Guardian’s neck cut off the sandcat’s wind.
Trying relax … must help … ordered kill … no!… no!… friends!
Nightwind got to his feet, unsteady and dazed by his close call with death. For a moment, he couldn’t decide which way to go. Slayton and Steorra were still struggling on the throne. But Heuser was not able to fully cope with the most potent of the sandcats.
The decision came rapidly. If Slayton were out of action, the Guardian would no longer be under the compulsion to kill. And the sandcats battering at the door would cease. If they broke in, the game was over. Nightwind didn’t kid himself for an instant. Eight sandcats would rip through them and never notice the resistance. They might be able to kill another sandcat; Heuser was preternaturally strong. He might even be able to kill the Guardian. It wasn’t a pleasing thought, killing a friend; it was even less pleasant dying.
The only solution was to eliminate Slayton — immediately.
Nightwind caught a brief note of triumph from the Guardian: He weakens … kill me … must try to kill friend … no … no!
The mental pressure diminished as Nightwind concentrated on Slayton. He watched the man raise the scepter and bring it crashing down on Steorra’s arm. She flinched but kept up her attack on the self-styled king of Rhyl, potential master of the cosmos. The second blow, however, landed on her head.
She staggered and dropped to one knee. A thin trickle of blood ran down her forehead and into her right eye. Before Nightwind could prevent it, Slayton swung the scepter doublehanded. This time he caught the woman directly on the forehead. She fell without uttering a sound.
Then Nightwind tackled Slayton. “Damn you, damn you!” cried Slayton, flailing with his jeweled wand. “I am king!”
He kicked viciously, following it with a powerful blow of the scepter. Nightwind caught the foot in the chest. Stars danced in front of his eyes as the pain washed through his body. The heavy scepter crashed into his left shoulder.
Barely able to catch his breath, his arm hanging useless, Nightwind refused to surrender. He rolled, avoiding another crushing blow from Slayton’s elegant bludgeon. Somehow, Nightwind’s fingers circled the discarded blasterifle. Victory was in his hand.
And snatched away just as quickly.
Slayton kicked out powerfully, sending the rifle cartwheeling across the room out of Nightwind’s reach. But the look on Slayton’s face wasn’t triumph. Something was happening. Something was going wrong.
“Losing control, Slayton? Is that it? Are the sandcats getting too strong for you? I made a pact with them. They’re on my side, not yours!”
“Shut up! Shut up!” he screamed.
Kill … kill Ruler!… weakening.
Nightwind barely intercepted the thoughts of the Guardian. The sandcat and Heuser were still grappling across the room. But the contest looked more even now. The sandcat was successfully resisting the order to kill.
“You’re losing, Slayton, you’re losing! The sandcat won’t obey your commands anymore. Give up. Now! Before it’s too late!” Nightwind was massaging his left shoulder where the scepter had landed. The pain lancing into his body left him weak, but not too weak to fight back again.
He dived, his body parallel with the floor, and smashed into Slayton’s legs just above the knees. They went down in a jumble. Left arm almost useless, Nightwind groped for a hold with his right. He no longer noticed the blows with which Slayton was pummeling him. Adrenaline surged through his tired body, revitalizing him. This was his last chance. He would either succeed now or die.
The scepter scored a glancing blow on the top of his skull. Nightwind was forced to back off, dazed. His head was cut open to the bone. He was bleeding profusely. His left arm refused to obey him. And each breath seemed as if liquid fire was scorching his lungs.
“Who’s going to lose, Nightwind? Who? Not me!”
Slayton fell to his knees as Steorra smashed into him from behind. Nightwind joined the fray. With the woman, Nightwind pinned Slayton to the throne. Their combined strength wasn’t much, not after the battering they had received at Slayton’s hand, but it was enough for the moment.
Sleepy … trick … watch out friend … kill.
The sudden thought from the Guardian made Nightwind look around. That simple action was all it took for Slayton to regain the upper hand. He swung, connecting firmly with Steorra’s chin. A dull crunch indicated a solid blow. She fell back to the floor, unconscious.
Nightwind’s legs were kicked out from under him, and Slayton fell heavily on top of him. Again pain lanced through his body. The relentless attack was becoming harder and harder to avoid. The exertions he had been through earlier were telling on his stamina. Slayton, rested, was in better physical condition now. And in far better condition to take physical punishment.
The wind knocked out of him, Nightwind could only lay on the floor at Slayton’s feet, taking in air with tortured gasps. He was certain his left arm was broken. It refused to move at all.
Breaking free … any moment … lessening … win freedom back … you helped friend.
Nightwind caught the Guardian’s ragged thoughts and knew what was happening. Slayton had become too engrossed in his own fight. The compulsion he had put the sandcat under was fading. In a short while, the Guardian would finish the fight with Slayton. Nightwind wondered if he would be alive to see it.
“So,” gloated Slayton, apparently unaware of the defection in his ranks, “the proud man lies at my feet! Do you have anything to say before I permanently remove you?”
Nightwind knew the symptoms. The insecure man wanted to boast of his conquest. What good was winning if the vanquished didn’t acknowledge defeat?
If he could keep Slayton talking, either Heuser or the Guardian might be able to finish the man off once and for all.
“Yeah, I got one thing to say. You beat me fair and square. No tricks, no fancy stuff. You’re the better man.”
Slayton stared at Nightwind for a long moment. The expression on his face changed from glee to uncertainty. “You admit it? You acknowledge my supremacy? What’s the trick? You’re trying to fool me!”
“Sure I am, Slayton. But you won’t find out until it’s too late. All the sandcats have been drugged. I did it myself.”
“You’re lying. You have no such drugs. And the sandcats are still out there. I can feel them! I’m in contact with them mentally.”
“Ha! Liar! You’re no telepath.” Here it was. Get him boasting about his prowess, and his attention might lapse. An outside chance was better than no chance at all.
“You don’t know? You haven’t guessed the power of the scepter? Ha! And I thought you were an intelligent man, the one with all the answers! This wand gives me the power. I’m able to enter the sandcats’ minds and make them do my bidding. You should have guessed that. Do you think they were smart enough to establish such an effective defense perimeter? I told them — mentally — how to do it.”
“Fat lot of good it did you. We still got in.”
“But why should the sandcats cooperate with me to fight you? I’ll tell you why. I commanded them to do it. The original race that built this city was able to command completely. The scepter has given me the power now. The gems are quasi-living. Lacking a true life of their own, they require a mind to give them full life. In exchange for this life, I’m given total power!”
Nightwind nodded grimly. That explained Slayton’s diminishing mental capacity. The jewels weren’t quite alive, yet not dead. They were sucking his very life force from his body in return for the dubious reign he was enjoying so. The psuedo-life was possibly symbiotic. Perhaps it required an outlet.
But total power? This was too much for a killer like Slayton to handle. He was slowly decaying mentally and didn’t even notice. But how could he? He thought he was receiving the greatest gift in the universe. And he might have been. For a short time, he was virtually omnipotent.
It was Nightwind’s sorry circumstance he had to come across the madman while he was still able to effectively use the wand.
“Don’t kid yourself, Slayton. It’s not total power. You don’t know what’s going to happen when you begin to slip — but I do. You’ll let up for a second. Maybe nothing will happen that time. Or the next. But sooner or later, the sandcats will kill you. They were imprisoned once before by that scepter. They’re not taking it too well this time. They’ll rip you to bloody pieces.”
“NO! They worship me! And how do you know what has happened to the sandcats in the past? Only I know from reading their minds!” Slayton looked down at his victim, slyness in his gaze mixed with a little bit of fear.
“I can read their minds, too, Slayton. You mean you can’t without the scepter? Are they trying to block you out?” Nightwind had to goad the man into a mistake.
The blasterifle was less than two meters away. If Slayton’s attention was pulled away for the briefest instant, Nightwind was positive he could get the rifle. Then this nightmare would be at an end.
Guardian … sleep … making sleep … all … no! … stop Ruler!
“Are you getting that, Slayton? The sandcat wants me to stop you. Did you hear it talking to me, mind to mind?”
“This is some sort of trick!” Slayton took a step forward and looked at the sandcat still locked in a death struggle with Heuser. “You’re…”
Nightwind moved as fast as he could, but the sharp, searing pain in his side slowed him. Slayton managed to reach the blasterifle at the same instant. A brief struggle and Slayton came away with the rifle. He carelessly tossed it aside. “I should have known. Now I will finish you off in a manner befitting one so low and beneath my contempt.”
“Don’t do me any favors, Slayton.” Nightwind realized he was about at the end of his luck. Steorra stirred slightly, but he could count on no more help from the woman. Being knocked out twice coupled with the beating she had received at Slayton’s hands would have killed a lesser person. She would recover.
The question was: would she recover to find both Nightwind and Heuser dead?
“I’m going to kill you in a manner which pleases my imperial fancy.”
Nightwind … sleepy … too sleepy.
Heuser was suddenly holding a limp sandcat. He looked across the room, then clenched his tiny fists. “I don’t know what you did to the Guardian, but you’re going to pay for it. I’ll tear your arms off and beat you to death with them, Slayton!”
“I have no doubt but you could. You are deceptively strong, small one. But would you really do it against my will?”
Heuser was slowly advancing across the throne room when his face went totally blank. All expression was wiped from it like dirt from a window. Nightwind could see all the way into Heuser’s soul in that brief instant. Slayton had put the sandcat to sleep for a reason. He was trying to possess Heuser’s mind as he had the Guardian’s.
Nightwind knew a titanic power struggle was ensuing. Heuser’s face began to contort into a mask of rage. His hands clenched tighter at his sides. Knuckles white, he began shuffling forward, his eyes still unfocused. It was difficult to tell which way the battle was going.
Slayton wasn’t controlling the cyborg as easily as he had any of the sandcats. He was panting, his hands shook with effort and his face was pasty white from exertion. The scepter in his hand glowed with a fierce light unlike that which it originally radiated. As the mental battle raged on, Nightwind fancied he could sense the thoughts moving back and forth across the room faster than the speed of light.
Submit!
No! … Kill you!
Weak one … I control … friends useless to you … obey… submit!
Kill you … kill!… must … must not … stop … stop!
Slayton laughed. His voice almost broke from the strain, but he was gaining control. He was slowly assuming power over the cyborg’s mind. His will was being superimposed on that of the small man’s. There was no denying his power augmented by the alien, jeweled scepter.
Nightwind could sense the self-determination of his friend being ripped from him.
Obey!… you are my slave … obey … obey … obey!
No … no … I … what … what want?
Kill Nightwind!
NO!
Yes … kill Nightwind!
“Slayton. Stop it! You’ve made your point.” Nightwind desperately wanted to break the man’s concentration. If he could give Heuser a chance to regain his senses, throw off the yoke of Slayton’s deadly command, there might be a chance yet. The brilliance from the scepter filled the room with an eerie light. This, in part, told of the tremendous mental energies flowing between the men.
The gems no longer seemed milky white. They were now coruscating points of brilliance too intense to view directly. Their colors changed constantly. The entire spectrum was represented briefly as the jewels flared out their pseudo-lives in the attempt to seize control of another’s mind and emotions.
“Quiet!”
Nightwind crumpled under the mental blow accompanying the command. He didn’t think Slayton had any reserves left. He was wrong. The mental pressure seemed to crush him down to the floor. His weakened condition didn’t help; the mental blast almost killed him.
Kill Nightwind!
Kill?… friend!… no … kill!… Nightwind!… no!
YES!… kill … kill … KILL!
Nightwind saw the curtain pull across Heuser’s eyes. They clouded with uncertainty. But the cyborg’s hands reached toward him. And one slow step at a time was bringing the cyborg toward where he lay. Nightwind didn’t doubt Heuser was fighting. The snippets of mental communication he intercepted told him that. But Heuser wasn’t going to be able to withstand the combined mental pressure of Slayton and the scepter. He was going to obey.
Obey and kill his best friend.