Temple of Death by E.C. Tubb

Author:E.C. Tubb [TUBB, E.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2011-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

Even then Colin fought to maintain the deception. The priest could be suspicious, he could guess, but he couldn’t know, and Colin wasn’t going to betray himself out of his own mouth. So he stared blankly at the yellow-garbed figure and stammer in the sibilant gutturals of the native tongue.

“Dra Vheera attend you. I…”

“Please.” Ancient courtesy dictated the stilted words but feral hate glowed in the green eyes of the priest. “To continue this farce would be a waste of time. It may interest you to learn that you were discovered on entering the temple. However, as an assembly was in process of formation, it was decided to wait until now.” The bloodless lips twitched in a gesture akin to a sneer. “Even then you were so terribly obvious. During the assembly we could sense that you were not absorbing and you had not even registered as new arrivals. I…”

The needler made little sound, a muffled thud, less noise than that of a man snapping his fingers and the metabolism of Martian and Terrestrial was close enough for the darts to take instant effect. The priest blinked, staggered a little, and before he had slumped to the blue-limned stone his companions had joined him in drugged unconsciousness.

“Let’s get out of here!” Panic made the captain’s voice throb over the radio. “Someone may have seen…”

“They have.” Colin stared grimly at the advancing figures of yellow-robed priests then looked about him. At their feet the five Martians lay slumped in drugged helplessness. Around them in a rapidly thickening circle the priests advanced with steady pace, their eyes green against the blue radiance, their hands as yet empty of weapons. Above their heads the vast hall lost itself in a blue haze while around them, creeping at the heels of the yellow-robed figures, the peculiar gem-studded green mist surged like a leashed fog. Of native Martians other than the priests there was no sign.

For a moment Colin was tempted. A single energy weapon would incinerate the priests into smoking ash and the entire temple would be theirs for loot and study. It seemed hard to have done so much, to have come so far, and reaped so little reward. Barnhart wouldn’t be pleased. He had expected something concrete, something akin to a sacred relic, some clue as to what the Dra Vheera cult was all about. He would be disappointed – and he had the money.

“We could take the priests,” suggested Manson, the needle gun reflecting the blue luminescence as he gestured towards them. “Use them as hostages.”

“No.” Colin gauged the distance of the advancing priests. Their slow advance worried him as did the enigmatic curtain of green mist billowing behind them and shielding everything but the immediate vicinity. “These Martians would have no compunction at killing their own kind.” He frowned as he stared about the deserted area of the vast hall. If there were only something they could take with them, some object, something to satisfy Barnhart and explode the Dra Vheera cult he would be more satisfied.

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