The Prince of Peril by Otis Adelbert Kline

Author:Otis Adelbert Kline [Kline, Otis Adelbert]
Format: epub
Tags: Science fiction, Fiction, Adventure
ISBN: 9781449998707
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2010-03-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER X

THE LEADER of the hunters called out "Dua" and Princess Loralie stepped from her hiding place to my side. Together we walked toward them.

"I am Pangar," said their leader, according us the royal salute in deference to the scarlet we wore. He himself, although not clothed, had a purple band on his metallic helmet and touches of purple on his accouterments which marked him as a member of the nobility.

"I am Zinlo of Olba," I replied, acknowledging his salute, "and this is the Torrogina Loralie of Tyrhana."

"In the name of my royal master, Tandor of Doravia, I bid Your Highness welcome," he said. "Will you accompany me to the palace and permit my emperor the pleasure of greeting you in person?"

"We'll be delighted."

"Your indulgence for a moment, then, while I see if any of my men can be salvaged."

"Salvaged!" I was struck by the peculiarity of the term when applied to men. It brought home to me that there was something extremely odd about these people. The motions of many of them seemed to be quite stiff and awkward-mechanical, that was it-like the motions of marionettes. Their armor-accouterments and weapons, too-were not made of ordinary metal, as I had first thought, but were constructed from a material which greatly resembled glass. The blades of the swords and daggers were quite transparent. The hilts resembled colored glass.

The helmets were also transparent, except for the colored band at the base of each denoting the status of the wearer. The chain belts and shoulder straps were of the same material, but lined with ramph leather, evidently to prevent their contact with the body.

Pangar bent over one of the fallen men. "Think you can make it?" he asked. The stricken one spoke weakly. "Power unit is low. Was shorted for a time, but I have it back in place now. If someone can spare some power..."

"Who can spare power?" asked Pangar.

A man stepped up. "I can spare five xads."

"Good." From a hook on his belt, Pangar took two coiled tubes that resembled insulated wires with metal sockets at each end. He inserted an end of each wire in each ear of the fallen man and handed the other two ends to the man standing. The latter instantly inserted an end in each ear, meanwhile watching an indicator which was strapped to his wrist. Presently he jerked a tube from one ear, then the other. The fallen man arose, apparently restored to strength, and returned the wires to Pangar. I noticed the next man. His entire breast had been torn away by the claws of the ramph. There was a set expression on his features, as of death or deep hypnotic sleep. But around the jagged wound was no sign of blood. The flesh, if it was flesh, was a peculiar grayish-red shade. And where the viscera would have been exposed in a normal human being, I saw a conglomeration of coils, tubes, wheels and wires, tangled and broken.

Pangar passed him by with but a single glance.

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