The Power of Blackness by Jack williamson

Author:Jack williamson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction, Sci-Fi
ISBN: 0425032604
Publisher: Berkley Medallion
Published: 1976-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

Progress of a sort had come to Tlootl Tloo, the mythical nesting place of the fire-winged tly of justice. A high stone wall, topped with electrified barbed wire, had replaced the thornbush barriers that had guarded its sacred springs and lancegrass groves since history began. A new tourist hotel stood beside the central pool, with its own airpad and a tall observation tower for the hunters.

The prisoners for the game no longer came by nearman caravan, but by flyer. The old prison pit had given way to a long special cell that ran like a tunnel through the new wall. Blacklantern and Snowfire were released from their handling cages into that cell.

Behind them, inside the walls, he could see graceful plumes of green-and-golden Iancegrass nodding above the wide blue pool. Ahead, beyond another wall of bars, bare red shale and black flows of ancient lava sloped sharply up toward the savage desert and the far-off sanctuary.

When the wardens were gone, Snowfire turned toward him slowly, moving as if in a dream of horror. She started to speak but saw that her words had no meaning for him. Trembling, she checked herself and stood looking at him in tragic inquiry. Slow tears welled out of her terror-darkened eyes, but she didn’t sob.

He wanted to tell her that he was not altogether without hope. In his hard apprenticeship for the arena he had lived with the primitive Wind clan people, hunting wild tlys and evading wild nearmen in country almost as dry and bleak as this. But all he could do was to murmur the music of her name and gesture for her to rest.

Worn dead, she was soon asleep, relaxed on the bare stone floor. He sat propped against the hot wall, watching her sweet and undefended nudity, now and then brushing off a biting fly, dozing a little, watching the sinking sun turn slowly red with dust.

The wardens came back at last with a pail of water and their last meal, a generous tray of ripe fruit and sun-cured meat. He woke her then. She smiled at his touch and murmured something in a child’s happy voice before the shadow of terror returned.

She watched like a child, with huge frightened eyes, waiting to see what she must do. She ate at his signal, stopped at once when he had finished. After they had drunk, he raised the pail and poured water for her to wash away the prison filth. She stopped him with a low pleased sound, held the pail while he bathed himself.

When the blood-colored sun was grazing the rocktoothed black horizon, the wardens came back for the empty pail and the tray. The three selected hunters came down from the hotel to watch through the inner bars while the outer door grated open.

Snowfire clung to Blacklantern’s arm, mutely watching his face. He turned to look back at the three. At Goldforge, roughly clad in tanned nearman hide and a broad white hat, belted with man-guns. Toolcraft trailing uneasily behind him.

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