Zanthodon by Lin Carter

Author:Lin Carter [Carter, Lin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sci-Fi., Science Fiction
Publisher: DAW
Published: 2011-03-25T00:00:00+00:00

The old boy mused, tugging on his stiff, wiry spike of white beard.

"More nearly akin to the paralysis-inducing fascination the gaze of a serpent is said to exert over birds,"

he said, trying to define the unique sensation. "Caught and held in the cold, unwinking gaze of those horrid red eyes, you seem to lose all will and volition, my boy. Ice-cold tendrils slither through your brain, numbing the centers of will and activity . . . the cold numbness spreads to your arms and legs-"

With a little cry, he gave up trying to describe it.

"You will have to experience it for yourself, to appreciate just what it is like," he said lamely. I set my jaw grimly.

"No thanks, I would rather not," I said crisply.

During this brief lull in our conversation, Hurok spoke up, a slow, hesitant question.

"Hurok wonders why the Sluaggh will feast on ourselves next, when the caverns are filled with panjani slaves, who seem to have lived here all their lives."

Potter nodded cripsly, and beamed fondly on the great fellow. He was fascinated by Hurok, and during their brief captivity together here in the cavern city had become quite attached to him. After all, it was rather an unique experience for a modern paleontologist to strike up a friendship with a genuine Neanderthal man. As well, every time Hurok by word or deed demonstrated the consequence of rational thought, by asking an intelligent and logical question, the Professor was delighted. (You will remember his theory that our most remote ancestors possessed the same potential intelligence we enjoy.)

"Ahem! A most pertinent query, my good friend. I have heard the Gorpaks talking and, although their clipped, staccato dialect is a little difficult to follow until you become accustomed to it, it seems the answer goes thusly: the cavern folk have, indeed, lived here for generations, captive of the Gorpaks and their own lords, the Sluaggh; they are born and bred to slavery, and, by now, have become completely docile. We, on the other hand-the Gorpaks call us 'surfacefolk'-were not born and bred in captivity, and are anything but docile. The Gorpaks regard us with suspicion and, perhaps, a twinge of apprehension.

We are quarrelsome, restive, unruly, and have been known to fight back and to strive for freedom from our pens. Thus, whenever one of us surfacefolk is taken prisoner by the Gorpaks, we are fed to the Sluaggh as quickly as possible, so as to minimize our potential for danger and hostile activities, such as striving to stage a slave revolt or a mass escape or something."

I could see the sense of it, but the future still looked appalling.

"How long have we got?"

The old scientist shrugged. "I do not know."

After labor and feeding, we were penned for the sleep period in the dungeon. This was an enormous single room in which dwelt others besides the Professor, Hurok, One-Eye and myself.

There were fifteen of them, all told, and they were savages in every wise quite similar to Tharn and his

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