The 49th Golden Age of Science Fiction MEGAPACK by Nelson S. Bond

Author:Nelson S. Bond [Bond, Nelson S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: science fiction
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2020-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

Sert’s face was blank with astonishment, but his fighting heart knew but one thing. That here, by a miracle, were the reinforcements he needed. With a great cry, “For freedom!” he raised his arm—and from their separate tunnels broke forth the Underlings to do battle, shoulder to shoulder, with those who fought their cause!

Not easily was that cause won. After their first instant of shock, the Masters raised their weapons against the diverse foe. Flaming death answered the barks of muskets, colored rays of potency unspeakable poured destruction into the close-pressed ranks of those who stormed the plaza.

But here were a hundred legions, all trained to war and inured to the fact of impending death. Where one man fell another took his place. Spears, arrows, even flaming projectiles filled the air. From somewhere came the biting chatter of a Gatling gun, pouring its slow racket of death into the ranks of the dwarflings.

Force-fields went on—and Masters died as the Underlings’ sonic torture burst their brains. Force-fields went off—and Masters died beneath barbaric weapons from ages long forgotten. The metal floor ran red with blood, blood was grit when mingled with charred ashes that had been men.

There could be but one result. It came at last when a cowering Master leader threw both arms skyward, pleading a truce, acknowledging a defeat!

* * * *

Larry found himself in the front rank of the attackers. How he had gained that spot he did not know, nor did he ever afterward remember. He had a confused recollection of having raced forward, Sert on his left side, his right flank guarded by a huge, blond Viking warrior in scarlet casque and birnie; he found that the smoking heat-ray gun in his hand was exhausted. And he knew his eyes were still seeking the one Master on whom he had pledged his personal vengeance. But that one Master, the Master of Masters, Harg-Ofortu, was not to be found.

Perhaps he was one of those headless bodies who had fallen beneath the short-swords of the Carthaginians, or he might have been one of those impaled by the lances of Attila’s wayward horde. Possibly even—but Larry hated to remember the typically feminine way in which that tiny band of Amazon allies had treated their foes....

And then Sandra was beside him, sharing with him the triumph of the Masters’ surrender. And to her he turned for an answer.

“You did this, Sandra?”

“I tried to tell you, Larry. It was the only thing I could think of. From Harg we learned how to operate the Time-warp machine. I set its dials, brought these warriors through to aid our cause.”

“But the language! They speak a thousand tongues!”

Sandra smiled, and for the first time Larry noticed that she, like himself, was now wearing the menaudo of the Masters. “And with this, so do I.”

Sert was addressing the forlorn leader of the beaten Masters. “A new order rules. From this day henceforth there shall be peace beneath our Dome. No longer will there be Underlings, you Masters.

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