"Thank you, Obie," she said sincerely. "We'll take it from here."

There was no reply.

She returned to the others with Renard, who'd sat there listening.

"There's no way I could get into an opening that size, or even down there," he pointed out. "Vistaru could fly down, and might fit, but she couldn't handle the voltages, and her wings and stinger would be in the way, even if you knew just which circuit to tell her to reach. We're probably dealing with a single microscopic line."

She nodded. "No, you couldn't. But the Ghiskind can certainly reach it. It could probably follow the circuitry all the way to the bomb."

"So?" he responded. "What good is that? It can't carry anything, nor generate a voltage."

"But the Bozog could," she pointed out. "I saw some traveling up walls at the launch site. Thousands of tiny, sticky feet. It's low enough, and can ooze around curves like it managed in the elevator. And it can carry a wire-if we can find a hundred meters or more of thin copper wire."

"Of course! Then all I'd have to do is touch the wire with a full charge after the Bozog carries it and the Ghiskind directs its placement!"

She nodded again. "But first we have to see if we have enough wire around. And, second, we have to lick the other problem-without Obie's help, I'm afraid."

He looked confused. "Other problem?"

"The Bozog is a living creature. It's not at all immune to severe electrical jolts, nor-particularly-to those guns the plans in my head tell me are no bluff. The key area is on the far far wall of the bridge, Renard. As long as Obie's in his defense mode, we can't get the Bozog to it." wall of the bridge, Renard. As long as Obie's in his defense mode, we can't get the Bozog to it."

"Oh," he said softly. Suddenly he froze, and there was a quizzical expression on his blue devil's face. He c.o.c.ked it slightly to one side, as if listening for something.

"What's the matter?" she asked. Though Wooley had the best eyes of the group, Renard had by far the best hearing.

"There's something moving over there, not far from the elevator," he whispered. "Fairly large, too."

She turned her head slightly, carefully, in that direction. Nothing could be seen.

For a while there was no sound, then even she heard it. A soft sound, as if something heavy were being dragged through the gra.s.s.

"Let's head over to the elevator," she suggested softly. He nodded imperceptibly and they strolled over, casual but alert.

"So that's it, then," Mavra said conversationally. "We're stuck here. Our only chance is to make a deal with Yulin."

He nodded. "If he'll make deals. He's got to come out of there sooner or later, you know. He'll have to deal with us or trap himself."

All sounds had stopped. Renard nodded slightly in the direction of the base, where an unconscious human form could be seen. It was naked, dirty, and scarred, and its hair was a long, twisted mess. It lay face up-a young boy, apparently.

Renard looked into the elevator and couldn't suppress an exclamation. "My G.o.d!" he breathed.

Inside were stacked six or seven bodies, all out cold, all as filthy as the boy. All had horse's tails.

When he turned to yell to the others, something struck him, hard, sending him sprawling. He was up in an instant and rushed back.

Another unseen thing hit Mavra broadside with such strength that it toppled her onto her side.

Renard saw something large and indistinct near her, and reached out to touch it. Voltage flowed.

Apparently it had no effect, for something landed hard on his head, bringing unconsciousness.

Though nearly helpless, Mavra struggled to rise as she saw two eerie forms, like women but green and gra.s.sy, step into the elevator and pull the boy in after them. As they started to change to match the elevator interior, the wall solidified.

Renard regained consciousness quickly and got unsteadily to his feet. Mavra managed finally to pull herself to her feet.

"Who the h.e.l.l was that? that?" he gasped.

"The savages-Belden's people," she replied. "Probably all of them, I'd say. s.n.a.t.c.hed right in front of us."

"But why? why?" he asked, still holding his head. "And who was it? Yulin? There were definitely at least two."

She nodded. "Two, and both female. I saw them, briefly. They have a way of fading into the background, like two creatures I once knew-but far different. I don't know who they are-but Yulin's obviously being creative with Obie. We've been suckered under our very noses."

"I still don't get it," Renard persisted. "Why the savages?"

"Here!" she said. "Get up on me. Ride me in. You're still groggy."

He was too woozy to resist her suggestion, and mounted her with difficulty. It was the first time a human being had been on her back, of whatever race. It was uncomfortable, but the Agitar was experienced and clung to her professionally. She slowly walked back, taking care not to throw him off.

"Well, Yulin needs or wants people, that's for sure," she said. "We know from Obie that he can't materialize thinking beings out of thin air. The savages were the easiest to get-just hypno them and carry them down. If he runs them through, he has at least nine slaves that we know of, with whatever powers he wants to give them."

"Whatever they were, one took a full jolt with no effect," Renard noted glumly. "But why so many?"

"Us," she replied. "Remember, he is is trapped down there until he deals with us. He's a very clever and devious man. He knows there's nothing he can offer us, and certainly nothing he can do whereby we would trust him or he would trust us. Would you step under Obie's dish with Yulin at the controls?" trapped down there until he deals with us. He's a very clever and devious man. He knows there's nothing he can offer us, and certainly nothing he can do whereby we would trust him or he would trust us. Would you step under Obie's dish with Yulin at the controls?"

"h.e.l.l, no!"

"So, what does he do? I'm sure he doesn't want to risk feedback on Topside. The last time that was tried, Obie transported New Pompeii to its present place. So, he has to capture or kill us. For that he needs others-he can't do it himself and risk leaving the controls. See?"

Renard whistled. "So our time's even shorter than we thought," he said nervously. "It's nine to six now."

"And you can bet that if he's got them immune to your electric personality he's got them guarded against the rest of us," she pointed out. "I'd say we have to blow that charge quickly or it's all over."

"I think-" Renard started, but he was suddenly cut off.

The whole world was cut off.

There was only blackness and the sensation of falling. No sight, no sound or other impressions, nothing. It was as if all but their minds had simply ceased to exist.

It lasted for a long time, then, suddenly, they were back to normalcy again.

Renard had fallen off Mavra's back and she'd stumbled herself. Now, for the second time they picked themselves up.

"Now what?" Renard groaned.

Mavra got shakily back to her feet and looked up.

"Events are quickly overtaking us," she said quietly. "Look up. No Well World. Just a distant sun up there, and a more reasonable amount of stars.

"He's done it, Renard! We're back! Back in the human sector of s.p.a.ce! Back in New Pompeii's original orbit!"

"Oh, boy!" Renard said sourly. "And I told the breeding farm I was taking a short vacation . . ."

Underside

Ben Yulin was pleased with himself as he looked over his troops. He had changed all of them into his dream women, even the two boys. Each had a distinct hair and skin tone; but nine new names were a bit much to remember, and aside from the first two, Nikki and Mavra, he just decided to settle on numbers for a while.

The savages were really that, too, not very smart and at about an ape's level of experience. Each retained the horse's tail, as Ben Yulin thought they were kind of s.e.xy, and they served to further distinguish the first two from the rest.

Obie did not give them a past, of course, but he provided language ability, demeanor, and all the other things necessary. Effectively, they were amnesiacs with needed skills, but that was fine. They too were love-slaves of Ben Yulin. All lay prostrate before him at his feet.

"You are my herd, my hareem hareem," he told them. "You are a part of me and I of you. You are the most honored of women, and will sit at my feet as I sweep away the old order and establish the new."

"Yes, My Lord Yulin," they responded sincerely in unison.

He looked at them in extreme self-satisfaction. In truth, a new order, he decided. Long ago, in lands lost in time and s.p.a.ce but alive in the tradition of Yulin's people, his ancestors had lived amid desert wastes in tent cities that followed the water and the blowing sand. Then great lords had grandiose hareems hareems. Some of this would be restored, he told himself.

He would create human beings in all ways so close to perfection that clothing would be a sin except when needed for protection. Powerful Lords would rule not desert wastes but bountiful planets, holding sway over their own herds of beautiful, powerful, and adoring women. Yet all would be subservient to him, the Supreme Caliph from whom all blessing and curses would flow, and for all time. A land of artisans, scientists, and engineers pushing back the ultimate frontiers.

A race to fulfill the Markovian dream of utopian perfectionism, a race to become G.o.ds.

All this was within his grasp, right now, here, today!

"Arise and go about your duties," he commanded, and they did so. Thanks to Obie, their living quarters were already quite comfortable, with great soft beds covered in silk and satin. Obie had also provided exotic fruits, vegetables, and meats indistinguishable from the originals. Though it was true that Yulin and his harem could now eat anything organic, even gra.s.s, there was no reason to.

Yulin returned to Obie and sat at a control console, flipping the transmitter switch.

"Obie? Have you plotted our position exactly?" he asked.

"Yes, Ben. We are back in the original New Pompeii orbit, along with the robot sentries. No sign of anything within a one-light-year scan. I suppose any curious investigators would have given up by now anyway. It's been over twenty-two years."

Ben Yulin nodded. "What about our movement capability, Obie? Can you move us to a different point, even a different sector of s.p.a.ce?"

"Any area whose coordinates are precisely specified in my memory. That includes, of course, all Comworlds and frontiers as of the time we were last here."

Ben Yulin nodded in satisfaction, then shifted his thoughts. Only a few things now stood in his way. Six things.

"Obie, is there any way you can change the atmospheric content Topside?" he asked. "Alter the balance, drain it, or introduce a toxic substance?"

"Those areas are controlled by totally involuntary circuits," the computer reminded him. "I can't do anything about them at all. You should know that. Antor Trelig didn't want you or Zinder or anyone else to have that kind of power-and particularly not me. For some reason he never really trusted me." There was a hurt tone in that last.

Yulin chuckled. He trusted Obie himself about as far as he could throw the thing.

"All right, then," he sighed. "I'll have to deal with the Northerners as best I can. Right now I need good knockout substances that will affect Agitar, Yaxa, and Lata."

Obie had the necessary information.

Topside

An armed guard was posted near the elevator, and the camp was moved to the center of the gra.s.sy park. They didn't want to be surprised again.

"Why not take the ship and scram for help?" Renard suggested. "We sure as h.e.l.l are living physical proof of what we say, and the Council could then move to blast this place."

"That's just what Yulin would want us to try," Mavra retorted. "Once out in the ship, he could swing the big dish on us and bag us all in one sweep. That's why he hasn't bothered to disable it."

Renard looked toward the elevator, perhaps a hundred meters away, now guarded by Wooley and Vistaru. "They're going to come for us sometime," he said flatly. "Soon."

She nodded. "Well, we have the wire from the technicians' repair center. Three hundred meters-that's more than enough. If we can only get close enough to use it."

"They have to relax the defense mode to get their people in and out," the Bozog pointed out. "That would be the logical time."

"Yeah, maybe we should wait by the bridge," Renard interjected. "Ready to go, so to speak."

"I don't think so," she replied. "No, the plans indicate that Obie can see the entire area from the end of the entrance corridor all the way across to his door. And if we stay in the corridor, our backs are to the elevator; Yulin can change his zombies into whatever he wants and nab us. No, I think-"

"Hey! Something's coming up!" Wooley yelled, and both she and Vistaru tensed and the others started toward them.

The elevator door opened and emitted a hideous-looking cloud of mixed orange-and-green gases. It was thick and enveloped them. A wild shot was fired from near the entrance, then nothing.

The others reached the area where the cloud hung but stayed back cautiously when the first whiff proved acrid. The Yugash and Bozog advanced, disappeared, then reemerged moments later. The huge ball of smoke started to rise up and away as the automatic circulation machinery caught it.

"They are gone!" the Bozog exclaimed. "Both of them! Vanished!"

Renard shook his head sadly. "Now we are four, d.a.m.n it all!"

"And, more important, he's eleven, even without including himself," Mavra responded. "This changes everything."

"We could give chase in the other car," the Bozog suggested.

She shook her head. "No, that's no good. It always stops at the upper door, remember? And it whines. So we get there, the door opens, and we're all taken." She turned to Renard. "Still got your energy pistol?"

"Here," he said, slapping his holster.

"All right, then. We'll give them some time, then we'll call a car. You'll spray it with stun fire before we board, and the Ghiskind and the Bozog will also check it out. When we get down, you'll spray again as it opens, and all the way down to the lower floor. We're going to go fighting!"

"But just that very activity will alert him," the Bozog objected. "Logically, he'll keep his people inside until he needs to send them out. Yulin will want to avoid something happening to one of them. He cannot know all our capabilities."

"I'm counting on that," she replied. "And on the fact that the lower car was down and they used the upper. If that is the case, we're safe for almost an hour. Ghiskind, you and the Bozog keep watch just in case. Renard, one last trip to the ship, and then it's do or die."

"Or learn to love Ben Yulin," he sighed.