Classic Audiobook Collection - Warrior of Two Worlds by Manly Wade Wellman ~ Full Audiobook [scifi]

Episode Date: February 27, 2023

Warrior of Two Worlds by Manly Wade Wellman audiobook. Genre: scifi Snatched from Earth and dropped naked into a roaring dust storm, a bewildered stranger staggers into the underground stronghold of a world called Dondromogon - a planet where only two thin twilight bands are habitable, forever battered by wind between a burning day side and a frozen night side. Captured at the gates, he can offer only one impossible story: he cannot remember his own name. But the defenders see something else in him. Their mystic Sporr insists the newcomer matches an ancient prophecy of Yandro, a Conquering Stranger destined to save their people from the Newcomers, ruthless invaders entrenched on the far side of the planet. Soon the stranger is dressed, honored, and pushed toward command - with Doriza, a bold officer of the guard, as both his escort and his sharpest test of trust. As political leaders like Gederr and the charismatic Elonie shape the legend around him, the stranger must navigate a society built on hard survival choices, a war fought through tunnels and polar chokepoints, and the nagging fear that his missing memories hide the real reason he was brought here. In a world that worships destiny, he must decide what kind of warrior he will become. For ad-free listening try our premium subscription Chapters (Approximate) (00:00:00) Chapter 01 (00:21:23) Chapter 02 (00:49:26) Chapter 03 (01:07:58) Chapter 04 (01:34:50) Chapter 05 (01:54:36) Chapter 06 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Warrior of Two Worlds by Manly Wade Wellman, Part One. My senses came to me slowly and somehow shyly, as if not sure of their way or welcome. I felt first pressure on my brow and chest as if I lay face downward, then the tug and buffet of a strong probing wind, insistent but not cold, upon my naked skin. Closing my hands, I felt them dig into coarse dirt. I turned my face downwind and opened my eyes. There was little to see, so thick was the dust-cloud around me. Words formed themselves on my thick tongue,

words that must have been spoken by so many reviving unfortunates through the ages. Where am I? And at once there was an answer. You lie upon the world Dondromagon. i knew the language of that answer but where it came from above beneath or indeed within me i could not say i lifted my hand and knuckled dust from my eyes how did i get here i demanded of the speaker it was ordered by the masters of the world that you should be brought from your own home planet called earth in the system of the star called son. And I did not know whether I remembered or not.

Vague matters stirred deep in me, but I could not for certain say they were memories. I asked yet again. Who am I? The voice had a note of triumph. You do not know that. It is as well, for this will be a birth and beginning of your destined leadership on Don Dromagon. Destined?

Leadership. I began to repeat and fell silent. I had need to think. The voice was telling me that I had been snatched from worlds away for a specified purpose here on whatever wind-swept planet Dondromagon might be. Birth and beginning, destined leadership? Fantastic. And yet, for all I am I.

could say to the contrary, unvornishedly true. Dondromagone? I mumbled. The name is strange to me. It is a world the size of your native one. Came the words of information. Around a star it spins light years away from the world of your birth. One face of Dondromagon ever looks to the light and heat. wherefore its metals run in glowing seas. The other face is ever away in cold darkness,

with its air freezing into solid chunks. But because Dandromaghan wavers on its axes, there are two loons of its surface, which from time to time shift from night to day. These are habitable." My eyes were tight-shot against the dust, but they saw, in imagination, such a planet, one half incandescent, one half pitchy black. From pole to pole on opposite sides ran the two twilight zones,

widest at the equator's like the outer rind of two slices of melon. Of course, such areas between the hot and cold hemispheres would be buffeted by mighty gales. The voice was to be heard again. War is fought between the two strips of habitable ground. War, unceasing, bitter, with no quarter-assed, given or expected. Don Dromagon was found and settled long ago by adventurers from afar. Now come invaders to reap the benefits of discovery and toil. A pause. You find that thought unpleasant?

You wish to write that wrong? Anyone would wish that, I replied, but how— You are going to ask how you were brought here. That is the mystery of the matter. The voice became grand. Suffice it that you were needed, and that the time was ripe. There is a proper time, like a proper place, for each thing and each happening. Now go to your destiny.

I rose to my knees, shielding my face from the buffeting wind by lifting a for arm. Somewhere through the murky clouds showed a dim, blocky silhouette, a building of sorts. The voice spoke no more. I had not the time to wonder about it. I got to my feet, bit double to keep from being blown over, and staggered toward the promised haven. I reached it, groped the long until I found a door. There was no latch, handle, or entry button, and I pounded heavily on the massive panels. The door opened from within, and I was blown inside to fall sprawling. I struck my forehead upon a floor of stone or concrete, and so was half stunned, but still I could distinguish something like the sound of agitated voices. Then I felt myself grasped by both

shoulders and drawn roughly erect. The touch restored my senses, and I wrenched myself violently free. What had seized me? That was my first wonder. On this strange world called Dondromagon, what matter of intelligent life made defiance to heat and cold and storm, and built these stout structures, and now laid hands, were they hands indeed, upon me? I swung around, setting my back to a solid wall. My first glance showed me that my companions were creatures like myself.

two-legged, fair-skinned men, shorter and slighter than I, but clad in metal-faced garments and wearing weapons in their girdles. I saw that each bore a sword-like device with a curved guard set in a narrow sheath as long as my arm. Each also had a shorter weapon, with a curved stock to fit the palm of the hand, borne snugly in a holster. With such arms I had a faint sense of familiarity. Who are you, and where are you from?" said one of the two, a broad-faced, middle-aged fellow.

"'Don't lie any more than you can help.' I felt a-stirring on the hair of my neck, but kept my voice mild and level. "'Why should I lie? Especially as I don't know who I am, or where I am from, or anything that has happened longer ago than just a moment. I woke up out there in the dust-storm, and I managed to come here for shelter. He's a newcomer spy, quote the other, and let's put him under arrest. And leave this gate unguarded, demanded the other. Sound the signal, and he jerked his head toward a system of levers and gauges on the wall

beside the door jam. There's a bigger reward for capture than for warning, objected his friend in turn, and whoever comes to take this man will claim the capture. I'll guard here and you take him in, then we'll divide— No, yours is the idea I'll guard and you take him in." The second man studied me apprehensively. He's big, and looks strong even without weapons. Don't be afraid, I urged.

I'll make no resistance if you'll only conduct me to your commander. I can show him that I'm no spy or enemy. Both stared narrowly. No spy, no enemy? asked the broad face one who had first spoken. Then to his comrade, No reward, then. I think there'll be a reward, was the rejoinder,

and the second man's hand stole to the sword weapon, with a whispering rasp it cleared from its scabbard. If he's dead, we get pay for both warning and capture. His thumb touched a button at the pommel of the hilt. The dull blade suddenly glowed like heated arm, and from it crackled and pulsed little rainbow rays. There was no time to think or plan or ponder. I moved in with a knowing speed that surprised me as much as the two guards.

Catching the fellow's weapon wrist, I clamped it firmly and bent it back and around. He whimpered and swore, and its glowing sword dropped. This radiant blade almost fell on my naked foot. Before the clang of its fall was through echo. I had caught it up and set the point within inches of its owner's unprotected face. "'Quiet, or I'll roast you,' I told him." The other had drawn a weapon of his own, a pistol-form arrangement. I turned on him but too late.

He pressed the trigger, and from the muzzle came not a projectile but a flying, spouting filament of cord that seemed to spring on me like a long thin snake and to fasten coil after coil around my body. The stuff that gushed from the gun muzzle seemed plastic in form, but hardened so quickly upon contact with the air, it bound me like wire. Half a dozen adroit motions of the fellow's gun hand, and my arms were caught to my body. I dropped my sword to prevent it burning me and tried to break away, but my bonds were too much for me.

"'Let me out of this!' I growled, and kicked at the man with my still unbound foot. He snapped a half hitch on my ankle and threw me heavily. Triumphant laughter came from both adversaries. Then—' "'What's this?' The challenge was clear, rich, authoritative. Someone else had come from a rearwood door into the stone-walled vestibule where the encounter was taking place. A woman this time—not of great height and robust, but not heavy. She was dressed for vigorous action in dark slacks with buskins to make them snug around ankles and calves, a jerkin of stout material that was faced with metal armor plates and left bare around strong arms.

A gold-worked fillet bound her tawny hair back from a rosy, bold-featured face, a nose that was positively regal, a mouth short and firm but not hard, and blue eyes that just now burned and questioned. She wore a holstered pistol and a cross-belt supported several instruments of a kind I could not remember seeing before. A crimson cloak gave color and dignity to her costume, and plainly she was somewhat of position, for both the men stiffened to attention. "'A spy,' one ventured, he pushed in, claimed he was no enemy, then tried to attack. "'They lie,' I broke in, very conscious of my naked helplessness before her regret.

guard. They wanted to kill me and be rewarded for a false story of vigilance. I only defended myself. Get him on his feet, the young woman said, and the two guards obeyed. Then her eyes studied me. "'Gods! What a mountain of a man!' she exclaimed. "'Can you walk, stranger?' Barely with these bonds. Then managed to do so. She flung off her cloak and draped it over my nakedness. Walk along beside me, no tricks, and I promise you fair hearing. We went through the door by which she had entered into a corridor beyond. It was lighted by small, brilliant bulbs at regular intervals. Beyond, it gave into several passages. She chose one of them and conducted me along. "'You are surely not of us,' she commented. "'Men I have seen who are heavier than you,

but none taller. Whence came you? I remember the strange voice that had instructed me. I am from a far world, I replied. It is called, yes, Earth. Beyond that I know nothing. Memory left me. The story is a strange one, she commented, and your name?

I do not know that either. Who are you? Darisa, a gentlewoman of the guard. My inspection door brought me by chance to where you fought by outposts. But it is not for you to ask questions. Enter here. We passed through another door, and I found myself in an office. A man in richly embossed armor platings sat there. He had a fringe of pale beard, and his eyes were bluer than the gentlewoman Dorizas.

She made a gesture of salute, hand at shoulder height, and reported the matter. He nodded for her to fall back to a corner. "'Stranger,' he said to me, "'can you think of no better tale to tell than you now offer?' "'I tell the truth,' was my reply, not very gracious. "'You will have to prove that,' he admonished me. "'What proof have I?' I demanded. "'On this world of yours, Dondromagone, isn't it called?

I'm no more than an hour old. Accident or shock has taken my memory. Let me have a medical examination. A scientist probably can tell what happened to me to put me in such a condition. I am a scientist, offered Doreza, and came forward. Her eyes met mind, suddenly flickered and lowered. His gaze, she muttered. The officer at the table was touching a button.

An attendant appeared, received an order and vanished again. In a few moments two other men came. One a heavily armed officer of rank, the other an elderly-bearded fellow in a voluminous robe that enfolded him in most dignified manner. The latter man opened wide his clear old eyes that sighted me. "'The stranger of the prophecy!' he cried in a voice that made us all jump. The officer rose from behind the table. "'Are you totally mad, spore?

You mystic doctors are too apt to become fuddled. But it is! It is!' The gray beard flourished a thin hand at me. "'Look at him, you of little faith! Your mind dwells so much on material strength that you lose touch with the spiritual.' He broke off and wheeled on the attendant who had let him in. "'To my study,' he commanded. On the shelf behind my desk, bring the great gold-bound book that is third from the right.

Then he turned back and bowed toward me. Surely you are Yondro, the conquering stranger, he said intoning as if informal prayer. Pardon these short-sighted ones, deign to save us from our enemies. The girl Doriza spoke to the officer. If sport speaks truth, and he generally does, you have committed a blaster. me. The other made a little grimace. This may be Yandro, though I'm a plain soldier and follow the classics very little. The first-comers are souls to worship, not to study. If indeed he is Yandro, and he was most respectful, he will appreciate, like a good military mind, my caution

against possible impostors. Who might Yondro be, I demanded, very uncomfortable in my bonds and loose graperies. Old Spar almost corroed. You see? If he was a true impostor, he would come equipped with all plausible knowledge, as it is. As it is, he may remember that the conquering stranger is foretold to come with no memory of anything, supply the officer. Score one against you, Spar.

You should have been able to instruct me, not I, you. the attendant re-entered with a big book in his hands it looked old and well-thumbed with dim gold traceries on its binding spar snatched it and turned to a brightly colored picture he looked once his beard gaped and he dropped to his knees happy happy the day he jabbered that i was spared to see our great champion come among us in the flesh as was foretold of ancient times by the first-comers. Doriza and the officer crossed to his side, snatching the book. Their bright heads bent over it. Doriza was first to speak. It is very like, she half-stemmered.

The officer faced me with a sort of baffled respect. I still say you will understand my caution. He addressed me with real respect and shyness this time. If you are Yondro himself, you can prove it. The prophecy even sketches a thumbprint, and he held the book toward me. It contained a full-page lightness in color of myself wrapped in a scarlet robe. Under this was considerable printed description, and to one side a thumb-print or a drawing of one in black. Behold, Darisa was saying, matters which even expert identification men take into thought.

The ears in the picture are like the ears. of the real man. That could be plastic surgery, rejoined the officer. Such things are artfully done by the newcomers, and the red mantle he wears more easily assumed. Doresa shook her head. That happens to be my cloak. I gave you to him because he was naked, and not for any treasonable masquerade.

But the thumbprint— Oh, yes, the thumbprint, I repeated wearily. By all means, study my thumbs. If you first take these bonds off of me." Bonds, mumbled old Spar. He got creakily up from his knees and bustled to me. From under his robe he produced a pouch and took out a pencil-sized rod. Gingerly opening the red mantle, he touched my tether in several places with the glowing

end of the rod. The coils dropped away from my grateful body and limbs. I thrust out my hands. Thumbprints, I offered. Spar had produced something else, a little vial of dark pigment. He carefully anointed one of my thumbs and pressed it to the page. All three gazed. The same, said Periza.

And they were all on their knees before me. Forgive me, great Yandro, said the officer thickly. I did not know. Get up, I bade them. I want to hear why I was first bound and now worshipped. End of Part 1. Part 2 of Warrior of Two Whirls by Manly Wade Wellman. This Librivox recording is in the public domain.

Part 2 They rose, but stood off respectfully. The officer spoke first. I am robot. FILE commander of this defense position, he said with crisp respect. Spore is a mystic doctor, full of godly wisdom. Doriza, a junior officer and chief of the guard, and you, how could you know, are sent by the first comers to save us from our enemies.

Enemies, I repeated. The newcomers, supplemented Dorisa. They have taken the other side of Dandromagon, and will take our own side of Dronomagon, and will take our side as well. We defend ourselves at the poles. Now, and her voice rang joyously, You will lead us to defeat and crush them utterly. Not naked like this, I said and laughed. I must have sounded foolish, but it had its effect. Follow me, deign to follow me, Spar said. Your clothing, your quarters, your destiny, all await you. We went out by the door at the rear, and

and spar respectfully gestured me upon a metal-plated platform standing beside me he tankered with a lever we dropped smoothly away into a dark corridor past level after level of light and sound our cities are below ground he quavered whipped by winds above we must scrabble in the depths for life's necessities chemicals to transmute into food to weave into clothing to weld into tools and weapons the mention of food brought to me the thought that i was hungry i said as much even as our elevator platform came to the lowest level and stopped i have arranged for that spar began Then fell silent, fingers combing his beard in embarrassment. "'Arrange food for me?' I prompted shrubly. "'As if you know I had come?' "'What—' Pardon great Yondro,' babbled Spar. "'I was saying that I arranged food, as always, for whatever guests should come.

Please follow.' We entered a new, small chamber, where a table was set with dishes of porcelain like plastic. Spar held a chair for me and waited on me with the utmost gingerly respect. The food was a pungent and filling jelly, a little bundle of transparent leaves or scraps like cellophane and tasting of spice and a tumbler of pink juice. I felt refreshed and satisfied and thanked Spar, who led me on to the next room. Behold, he said with a dramatic gesture. your garments, even as they have been preserved against your coming.

It was a sleeping chamber with a cot made fast to the wall, a metal locker or cupboard with a glass door, through which showed the garments of which Spar spoke. The door closed softly behind me. I was left alone. Knowing that it was expected of me, I went to the locker and opened the door. The garments inside were old. I could see, but well-capped. and serviceable. I studied their type, and my hands, if not my mind, seemed familiar with them.

There was a kilt-like item belted at the waist and falling to mid-thigh. A resilient band at the top with a series of belt-holes made it adaptable to my own body or to any other. Then came an upper garment, a long strip of soft, close-woven fabric that spiraled around the torso from hip to armpit, the end looping over the left shoulder, and giving full play to the arms. A goal-worked fillet bound the brows and swept back by longish hair, nodding at the nape of the neck. The only fitted articles were a pair of shoes, metal sold and soft uppered, that went on well enough and ran cross-garters up to below the knee like buskins. The case also held a platinum chain for the neck, a belt bag, and a handsome sword with clips to fasten them in place.

These things, too, I donned and closed the glass door. The light struck it at such an angle as to make it serve for a full-length mirror. With some curiosity I gazed at my image. The close-fitting costume was rich and dark, with bright colors only for edgings and minor accessories. I myself, and it was as if I saw my eyes. body for the first time, towered rather bluffly with great breath of chest and shoulder, and legs robust enough to carry such bulk.

The face was square but haggard, as if from some toil or pain which was now wiped from my recollection. The nose had been even bigger than it was now, but a fracture had shortened it somewhat. The eyes were deep-set and dark and moody, small wonder. The chin, heavy, the mouth, made grim by a scar at one corner. Black shaggy hair hung down like brackets. All told, I looked like a proper person for physical labor, or even fierce fighting, but surely no inspirational leader or savior of a distressed people.

I took the military cloak which Doriza had lent me and slung it over my shoulders. Turning, I clanked out on my metal-souled shoes. Spar was waiting in the room where I had eaten. His eyes widened at sight of me. Something like a grin of triumph flashed through his beard. Then he bowed, supple and humble, his palms together. "'It is indeed Yondro, our great chief,' he mumbled. Then he turned and crossed the room.

A sort of mouthpiece sprouted from the wall. "'I announce,' he intoned into it. I announce, I, spar, the reader and foreteller of wisdom, Yandro is with us. He awaits his partners and friends. Let them meet him in the audience hall." Facing me again he motioned most respectfully toward the door to the hall. I moved to open it, and he followed muttering. Outside stood Doreza.

Her blue eyes met mine, and her lips moved to frame. a word, then, suddenly, she was on her knees, catching my hand and kissing it. "'I serve Yandro,' she vowed tremulously, now, and forever, and happy that I was fated to live when he returned for the rescue of all Dondromagon. "'Please get up,' I bade her, trying not to sound as embarrassed as I felt. Come with me. There is still much that I do not understand. I am Yondro's orderly and helper, she said.

Rising, she ranged herself at my left hand. Will Yondro come this way? He will be awaited in the audience hall. It seemed to me then that the corridors were vast and mixed as a labyrinth, but Doresa guided me without the slightest hesitation past one tangled crossway after another. My questions, she answered with a mixture of awe and brightness. It is necessary that we live like this," she explained. The hot air of Dandromagon's sunlit face is ever rising, and the cold air from the dark side

comes rushing under to fill the vacuum. Naturally our strip of twilight country is never free of winds, too high and fierce to fight. No crops can grow outside, no domestic animals flourish. We must pin ourselves away from the sky and soil, with stout walls and heavy sunken Our deep minds afford every element for necessities of life. I looked at my garments and hers. There were various kinds of fabric which I now saw plainly to be synthetic. The other side were those you call the newcomers dwell in fight, I reminded, is it also wind-swept?

Why can two people not join forces and face tarl and nature together? They should fight not each other but the elements. Teresa had no answer that time, but Spar spoke up behind us. Great Yondro is wise as well as powerful. But the newcomers do not want to help nor even to conquer. They want to obliterate us. There is nothing to do, not for lifetimes, but to fight them back at the two poles. We came to a main corridor.

It had a line of armed guards, but no pedestrians or vehicles. though I thought I caught a murmur of far-off traffic. Doreza paused before a great portal, closed by a curtain-like sheet of dull metal. She spoke into a mouthpiece. Doreza, gentle woman of the guard, conducts Yondro the conquering stranger to greet his lieutenants. I have said that the portal was closed by a curtain-like metal sheet, and like a curtain it lifted, letting us through into the auditorium. The spacious chamber had rows of benches with galleries above that might have seated a thousand.

However, only a dozen or so were present, on metal chairs ranged across the stage upon which we entered. They were all men but two, and wore robes of black, plum, purple, or red. At sight of me they rose together most respectfully. They looked at me, and I looked at them. My first thought was that if these were people of authority, and trust in the nation, I seemed destined to save. My work was cut out for me. Not that they really seemed stupid.

None had the look or the subsequent action of stupidity, but they were not pleasant. There are dozen pairs of eyes fixed on me with some steadiness, but with no frankness anywhere. One man had a round, greedy-seeming face. Another was too narrow and cunning to look at. Of the women, one was nearly as tall as I, and in the way. and nobly proportioned, with hair of a red that would be inspiring, were it not so blatantly died. The other was a little wisp of a brunette, with teeth too big for her scarlet mouth, and bright

eyes like some sort of a rodent. They all wore jewelry. Too much jewelry. My mind flew back to the two scrubby venial guardsmen who had first welcomed me. Too stuffy robar, the commander. to spar, spry and clever enough, but somehow unwholesome. Doresa, no, she was not like these others, who may have lived too long in their earth-buried shelters, and D'riza now spoke to the gathering.

Yandro, folk of the council, he deigns to give you audience. Yondro! They all spoke the name in chorus and bowed toward me. Silence, then, a silence which you. evidently I must break. I broke it. Friends, I am among you with no more memory or knowledge than an infant. I hear wonderful things of which I seem to be the center. Are they true? Thet hath part of the wonders which concern mighty Andro have not been told, intoned spar, ducking his bearded head in a bow, but fixing me with his wise old eyes.

One of the group, called Council by Doresa, now moved a pace forward. He was the greedy-faced man, short but plump, and very conscious of the dignified foes of his purple robe. One carefully tended hand brushed back his ginger-brown hair, then toyed with a little moustache. I am Jeter, senior of this council, he purred. If Yondro permits, I will speak simply. Our hopes have been raised by Yondro's return, the return presaged of old by those who could see the future, and more recently by the death in battle of the newcomer champion called Barak. Barak, I repeated, I—I—and I paused.

When I had to learn my own name, how could it be that I sensed memory of another's name? Barak was a brute, mighty, but a brute. Thus Jedder continued. Weapons in his hands were the instruments of fate. His hands alone caused fear and ruin, but it pleased our fortune-bringing stars to encompass his destruction. He grinned and licked his full lips. Now, even as they are without their battle-leader, so we have ours.

"'You honor me,' I told him. "'Yet I still know little. It seems that I am expected to aid and lead and save the people of this world called Dondromagon, but I must know them before I can help.' Jeter turned his eyes upon the woman with a red hair and gestured to her. "'Tell him, Iloni.' Then he faced me. "'Have we Yondro's permission to sit?'

"'By all means,' I granted, a little impatient. and sat down myself. The others followed suit. The council on their range of chairs, Doriza on a bench near me. Far somewhere behind. The woman called Iloni remained upon her sandaled feet. Great eyes the color of deep green water fixed upon me. Eloni was taller than any of her fellow council members, taller than spar, almost as tall as I. Her figure was mature, generous, but fine, and set off by a snugly draped robe as red as her dyed cascade of hair. Red dyed, too, were the tips of her fingers, and her lips were made vivid and curvy beyond nature by artificial crimson. She made a bow toward me, smiled a little, showing almost perfect white teeth.

She began. Don Droganon began with the first comers. Many ages they ruled here, the fifteen of them. Forever they were fifteen, for when one died, another was bred. When one was born, the oldest, or at least useful, was eliminated. It was they who planned and began this shelter city, found the elements that support life, and give comfort. Others came from far worlds. The fifteen changed their policy of a fixed number and became rulers of the new colonel.

But after some study it was decided to set a new limit. Seven hundred was decided upon, and seven hundred we still remain. Wait, I interrupted. You mean that when new children are born among you, someone must die? She nodded. Exactly as with the fifteen. We eliminate the least useful. Sometimes we eliminate the child itself, more often than older and worn-out individual.

I thought that I sensed an uncomfortable wriggle and spar behind me. Why is this? I demanded. Because, Yandro, there cannot be room and supplies enough for a greater number. I scowled to myself. So far I had seen luxury enough in Dondromagon's chambers and tunnels, but there remains so much to learn. Go on, I bade her. She nodded again and obeyed.

Thus we on Dandromagon live and have lived. This world is ours, it's good and evil. But, and her voice, from a soft, shy murmur, turned hard. There are those who do not wish it so. The newcomers, the invaders. Ill be their fate, growled Jeter beside her as if rehearsed. They came to us not long ago in years. But I forget, Yandro does not know as yet the length of Dandromagon's year or Dandrobogon's

day. They came, then, no longer ago than the time needed for a baby to become a child. Three years of my own reckoning, I decided, and wish she had not mentioned babies and children. I still disliked that arbitrary survival of the fittest custom. Where did they come from, I asked? Who can tell? Perhaps from the forgotten world where came our ancestors. Somehow they had learned of our conquest here, our advances in wealth-gathering in spite of natural

obstacles. That is what they hope to plunder from us, these conquering newcomers. "'I'll be their fate,' repeated Jedder and two or three of the council with him. But the winds are too high for a final battle to happen quickly. After some fighting they seized upon the other strip of habitable land on Dandromagun's other side. We fight them at the two poles, mostly underground. Do you understand? I seem to, I replied.

But now what about me, the story of Yondro? Did not Spar tell everything? Broke in Jenner. He should have done so. Spar, the council is not pleased. I had to go slowly, apologized the old. man, and Iloni took off the tail. It is known to all on Dondromagon.

The days of the first-comers held great minds that could see the future. Then it was foreseen that, in Dondromagun's hour of peril and need, a time set by the destruction of an enemy great and mighty. Barak, I said aloud, still puzzling over that strangely familiar name. At that time, finished Eloni, a leader to be called Yonelho. The Conquering Stranger would come. Even clothing was supplied, clothing not like that we wear today, she gestured toward me. Indeed, the garments I wore were different from those of my companions.

I shook my head slowly and tried to digest what I had heard once again, but one bit of it still clamored for rejection. About these eliminations, I harked back. Who decides on which person must die to keep the number of it? number down to 700. We do, replied Jeter, almost bleakly. And the newcomers, have they a similar custom? Not they, the greedy interlopers.

Jeter looked very greedy himself. They delve and destroy in Dundrumagon, feeding ever new spates of arrivals. It seems, I offered, that you would be well advised to grow in number, and so win this war. But Jeter shook his head. We checkmate them at the two. poles, where the way into our territory is narrow, and more than 700 would be hard to make comfortable. Friends, I do not like it, I stated flatly.

There seems to be ruthlessness and waste. Why waste? spoke up another of the council, the narrow man, whose name was Strebacar. This war was begun only recently, but it will last forever, at least so I see it. Now that Yondro is here, it shall be very. brought to an end, pronounced Eloni, her green eyes fixed on me. Will it please Yondro to see something of this war? Since you make it so much my business I would be pleased indeed, I told her.

And Spar rose from his seat. He went to an oblong of white translucency on a side wall of the stage within sight of us all. It was about twice a man's height by thrice a man's width. The screen of televiso, he said. said to me, and touched a dial beside it. The screen lighted with confused blurrings of color and movement. He dialed quickly and knowingly. We see an underground passage, he said, and those who dispute therein. I could see a gloomy stretch of earth-wall passage,

lighted from somewhere by a yellow radiance that became dim and brown toward one end. I had no way of judging the true size of the object whose image I saw, until I made out Stealthy movement at the darker end. Spars dialing made parts of the scene clear, and the movement proved to be that of a human figure, prone and partially concealed in a depression of the floor. That figure was no more than half-height, by which I estimated the passage itself to be some fifteen or eighteen feet to the top of its rough dug ceiling. A scout, breathed Dorisa beside me, pointing to the prone man.

See, Yandro? He wears earth-colored cloth over his armor, and his arms and face are smeared with mud. The thing he holds is a ray-digger, whereby he burrows his way forward to the enemy. Enemy in the same tunnel with him, I asked. Right, I saw her blonde head dip. Our tunnel broke into one of theirs by accident or plan. At point of contact, both forces are cautious, fearing ambush. Now—she said no more. The scout on the screen was apparently creeping forward through the solid soil of the floor,

only the top of his head and shoulders showing. Once or twice I saw the object he employed a baton-like tool of black metal with a bulb or ball at one end. It emitted faint sparks and shutters of light, which melted or vaporized the earth ahead of him. See, he senses danger near. Indeed he did, for he paused. paused and took something else from his belt, a disc the size of his palm. This he held close to his face, studying it. Televizo, explained Doriza.

It has limited power of identifying both sound and sight near at hand. The scout knows that enemy approach. Still working his dials, Spar made the scene slide along. The bright end of the tunnel came into view for some yards. All who watched lean forward excitedly. Newcomers, breathe jutter, and added his familiar curse, Ill be their fate. They have one of those vibration shields.

Warned the advance party, bade Strybicar, and Spar, turning from his dials, muttered quickly into a speaking tube. The situation that thus interested and activated my companions was hard to make out. I saw only an indebted. distinct fuzziness and a sort of niche against the tunnel walled." Doreza pointed. A vibration shield, she told me. The newcomers have such things.

Some machine or other power stirs the molecules of air to such a tempo as to create a plane of force. No missile, no light even can penetrate. They are sheltered and all but indistinguishable. See? They go forward." The Etienne cloud moved along the tunnel. We could see the scout again.

He tucked away his disc and employed the raid-digger. Quickly he sank deeper and out of sight. Burrowing in, pronounced Jutter. If he succeeds in what he hopes, spare him, you mean? asked Strybacar. And Jeter nodded. The eddying blotch that marked the power shield of the invaders came closer. I saw it approach the place where the scout had burrowed away. It paused there, as if those.

those hidden by it were investigating, then, brave fellow, cried Eloni like someone at an exciting sports event or play. The scout had dug himself a little channel beneath the floor. Now he burst into view beyond and behind the invaders. He held a pistol weapon in each hand. One spat sparks, some sort of pellets or projectiles. The other was plainly a web spinner like the one that first had bound me, in this he poised ready for use.

His projectiles seemed to find an opening behind the power shield. A human form lurched into view, a glowing, writhing form, like a man of red-hot metal. An agonized leap, a shudder, and the body fell abruptly falling into clinkered bits. A moment later, the power-shield disturbance vanished, and there stood revealed two others, clad like the scout in earth-colored jumper over-armor. He got the power-shield man, exulted Eloni. She was on her feet applauding wildly. In the same second I saw the scout point and discharge his spinner gun.

Whirling coils of cords struck, wound and tangled the two foremen. The scout's bearded mouth open as if he yelled in exultation. But that was his last cry in action. Another eddy, larger and swifter, suddenly came into the picture behind him. From it sprang a pale shaft of light. The scout went down on his face as if in sudden prayer. He moved no more. Toward the dark end, Androgoman figures seemed to move.

There was a great splatter of spark pellets, but the eddy of the new power shield has scurried forward, enveloping and vanishing the two bound men. It retired as quickly. No movement, no figure, except those of the dead scout and the charred remains of the man he had killed. There will be little action here for some time to come, announced Jenner. Switch it off, Spar. Spar did so. I shook myself as if to rid my body of unpleasant dampness and chill.

Exciting, I said. Unusual. I suppose this goes on all the time. not all the time eloni demurred as yandro has heard the battle areas are limited in the region of the poles there is much maneuvering but not too much contact this incident was in order order i repeated we sent the man you saw knowing that you would want this televised view of how we made war i snorted and faced her angrily you sent him to his death so that a-lawful that you would want this televised view of how we made war i snorted and faced her angrily you sent him to his death so that a I could see a show? You value life very cheaply, Eloni. End of Part 2. Part 3 of Warrior of Two Worlds by Manly Wade Wellman. This Libri-Vox recording is in the public domain. Part 3. She smiled as if I had complimented her.

Oh, the man was up for elimination. He was supernumerary. Of course, if he had succeeded in his capture of prisoners and one of the devices that make those power shields. I remembered what Stripakar had said to Jedder. He was brave, I said, and it was a shame that he had to die. You want me to be a leader in war like that? I have other ideas of warfare. All of them looked at me and once spoke from behind to Jeter. We had hoped that Yondro would say that. Yondro means to lead us in person in a great and decisive battle. At least it would be cleaner than this mole-digging and sneaking, I said hotly.

Jeter rose. Spar, tune in whatever terminal you can find among the newcomers. I shall say something to them. Obediently, Spar manipulated levers, push buttons and dials near the speaking tube. Jeter crossed to it and spoke harshly. Newcomers, it'll be your first. fate your defeat is at hand we give you warning our engines will burrow a mighty cave near the north pole let you come there with all your hosts and so shall we so shall we his voice rose to a scream with us leading us comes the greatest fighter that dandromagon has ever known and the sight of him

shall break your hearts." My ears rang, as the ears of all listeners must have rung with those last words. Jeter turned away, and Spar dialed the power off. Now, said Jeter, is there not some plan for amusement, a pleasant hour in the pavilion? Great Yondro's heart is troubled, for it is as great as himself, by thoughts of war and its pains. let him come with us for solace. Amen to that, said Eloni, and she walked toward me. I rose, and she slid her bare arm through mine.

Her face was close to mine, smiling, and full of invitation. It seemed that Doriza was going to say something, but Eloni spoke first. He will need no military aid, Dorisa. Nothing military about the pavilion, you remember. We walked out together. Eloni and myself, then the others. We found a wider corridor and one full of hum and motion. The smooth floor of the passage was seamed with metal-shod grooves, in which moved vehicles, Ovid vehicles of various sizes, balancing it seemed, on one whirring wheel apiece.

Eloni escorted me to one such car, which stood poised on its wheel like a dancer on tiptoe. There was room inside for the two of us only among luxurious cushions. At her respectful invitation I sat inside and she operated controls. Thus we travel in this city, she chatted as we rolled along. Not swiftly, of course, in this nor in our other city near the South Pole. The real speed is in the way tunnels between. Way tunnels the width of a world, I asked wondering. How can only seven hundred persons?

do such work. You saw the raid digger on the televiso. There are larger and more complex diggers of that type, by which we can journey almost anywhere underground, clear through the core of Dondromagone and up into newcomer lands were it not for the inner fires. Perhaps we shall dig them out by the roots in time, despite their defenses." Once again I thought of so much science and wealth, and of people dying because their rulers thought 700 were none too few to enjoy the benefits of a world.

We stopped down a fork of the vehicle corridor, and Eloni dismounted before another of the metal curtain doors. At her touch of a button and a word into a speaking tube, it opened to us. We passed into a smaller passageway, and then out into a place of aching beauty. My first impression was of pastel lights, changing and mingling constantly. blue, violet, pink, green, orchid, pale. They struck from straw-like points in a great domed ceiling over a floor like a mirror. And the pastel-tinted air was filled with music, soft but penetrating and hetty. There was a breeze from somewhere, scented and warm.

In and out of other doorways across the floor wondered figures, male and female, murmuring together and helping themselves to cups from great trusses. vessels and tables. The refreshments are provided, Eloni told me softly. We need not wait for the others. Come, Yondro. They have poured wine. Yandro knows what wine is.

And we have music, perfume, light, laughter, and for companions all of Dondromaghan. All? I repeated. I'll save those on guard are garrison duty. The mighty one! No happiness that is worth fighting and conquering to keep, she tugged at my arm, urging me toward the wine-tables. And now there was a louder murmur, excitement, and even apprehension at my entrance.

I suppose I was an extraordinary figure, taller than any person there, indeed none were anywhere near my height, save the nobly proportioned Eloni herself. And I was more sinewy and darker as if of another race. entirely. Timid memories struggled somewhere within me, as if knocking at the closed doors of my consciousness. Somewhere, somehow in the past, things that happened that might explain so much make my present position clearer to me. Jeter was following close behind, muttering something to Doriza.

Then he pressed on beyond me and mounted a sort of dais or platform. You of Dron-Dromagon, he called. And such was his voice, or perhaps the acoustic properties of that hemispheric room, that all could hear him easily. Have you not heard rumors of a great happening? The ancient legend of a mighty leader to come among us? Dondro, cried a deep, voiced fellow in the front belt of listeners. His eyes were on me, studying, questioning.

Yes, Yondro, champion of our cause, sent by the first-comers themselves. That was Eloni, and with a hand on my elbow she urged me up on the platform beside Jeter. Applaws burst out, some of it a little drunken, but quite hearty and honest. Yondro! cried the deep-voiced man again, and others took it up. Yondro, Yondro! Whatever my own doubts, they had none. Jeter held up an authoritative hand for silence.

He came from far in space and time, and one look will assure you of his leadership. The time for deliverance is at hand, men and women of Dondromagon. We trust in mighty Yondro. There was louder applause, in the midst of which Jutter sidled closer. Speak to them, he mumbled in my ear. Like him I lifted a hand for silence. It came, and I eyed my audience as I sought for words to speak. The first thought that came was that if Eloni was right and these people were the selected

best of the race, then Dondromagone was decadently peopled. Not only were they smallish and mostly frail, but few had a distinguished or aggressive cast of countenance. The council members had been wise-seeming, perhaps, but even they had not struck me as healthy types. To one side stood Doriza, militarily at attention, blue eyes fast upon me. She was a notable exception, compact and strong and healthy of body and mind, and at the same time, quite as fernation. feminine as the more flashy and languorous alone just beside my platform. Through the rear ranks of listeners moved old, white-bearded spar, who had much to say to certain members of the throng, perhaps explaining me and my legend.

Friends, I began at last. I am new here. A little child might have more experience of your ways and wishes. Yet it becomes apparent that great service is expected of me, and such a service I would greatly love to do. "'Here, hear, wise are the words of Yondro,' thus went up a new chorus. I felt reassured and spoke more confidently. Your counsel has explained much.

Now I come to the people represented by that council. If I am to help, you are to explain how, for the voice of a people is seldom wrong or foolish." "'Wise are the words!' they chorused again, and the man with a deep voice suddenly put up his hand and moved forward. I saw that he had the armor and weapons of a soldier, and in one hand he held a cup from which he had been drinking. He was fairly well knit for a dynodromagonian, and though his face was simple, it was

manly enough. He cleared his throat diffidently. "'We have been told of Yondro's coming "'thruout our halls and dwellings,' he began, "'that he should ask for our word is an honor. "'But since he asks, I make bold to reply.' "'He choked a little. "'Pease!' he cried hoarsely.

"'Peace and comfort!' "'Pease, peace!' cried the others around him. "'And peace!' bellows. hundredth of voices. I was a little perplexed. After the warlike talk of the council, this was different and disturbing. But Jeter, beside me, was not at a loss.

Peace you shall have as Yondro's gift, he cried. The newcomers, ill be their fate, have been warned and promised of his coming, and now they shake in dread. He shall lead you to very, Victory, complete victory, and the fruits of victory." It was powerfully said, and the cheering was greater than ever. Undercover of the den, Jeter took my elbow and escorted me from the platform.

They have been despondent, Yandro. They grow unwilling to face death and wounds, but you have changed all that. Hark to their cries of your name. Now there shall be no more speaking, only have. happiness. Eloni had joined us again. Her hand dropped warmly over mine. "'This way,' she bade.

This wine is for the council only, the best on dundromagon, honor us by taking some. She gave me a goblet of some transparent substance, clasped in bright metal and brimming with a red liquor. I took it with the bow, and she lifted her own goblet. As we drank together, I had another impression of Dorese's studying, wondering eyes. Did the warrior woman appointed as my military aide disapprove? But the wine was excellent, and my spirits rose. Come, said Elony.

Her arm was through mine again, warm and gently urging. She led me toward a niche set deep and shadowy into the wall. There was a divan with cushions and a table. with cups and flaggons for drinking. The music had begun again, and some of the people were dancing together. Yondro is gracious to grant me these moments alone, purred Eloni. Yondro is overwhelming. Can't we drop the third person, I asked.

I do not feel much taste for formalities. She clutched at that with a little cry of gladness in her eyes and smile were radiant. You offer me intimacy. She exclaimed. It's honor, it's thrills, she lifted her glass. Drink again, I beg you. You and I shall drink to each other. Why not?

I said and touched her glass with mine. To you, Eloni. To you, Yandro, my dear Lord. The wine was galvanizingly strong. I felt my ears ring a little, and why not admit it? Alone's nearness and adulation were whining themselves. She leaned toward me on the divan so that our bare shoulders touched. Her lips, full and trembling, were very close.

Yondro, she whispered. Yondro, you could make me happy and yourself happy too. Suddenly I shook my head a little to clear it. For her eyes a moment ago so fascinating, suddenly made me uneasy. It was as if claws had reached from their brightness had fastened upon me. She steadfastly fixed my gaze with hers. Yondro! Her voice was soft to monotonous. All is well with you. Trust us. Trust me, alone. I shall guide you to victory. You need have no qualms.

Her arms strolled across my chest, curved around my neck. She drew my head toward hers. Her brilliant eyes seemed to fill the whole field of my vision, impelling, hypnotic. Hypnotic! That was it! The strange half-lost thoughts of my unknown former life seized the idea and held it up to me. Danger! Danger! they were crying at me. Most ungallantly I took her wrist and disengaged myself from her embrace.

Since I am destined for war, is there a time for this, I asked, trying to laugh? Is there not? she murmured. I rose from where I sat and sipped more wine. Where it had fuddled me before, it cleared me now. Eloni, you are charming. I do not know whether I have standards by which to judge, but you do things to men. Perhaps I should have time to make up my own mind. If I have offended, she began to stammer.

Oh, not in the least, but there is so much for me to be sure of. She too rose and left me without a word. Had I made her angry? Yet her last words had been of apology. I sat down again, alone, and mystified. But I did not remain alone for more than two minutes. Outside the niche, Aloney was talking to Jeter. Jeter scowled, nodded, then with an air of inspiration beckoned to Doresa.

Doreza joined them, listened respectfully to Jeter. Finally she nodded, as if in acceptance of orders and walked toward me. I rose to meet her. She looked me steadily in the eye, but when she spoke it was hesitantly, with a shyness most womanly, to womanly for a military person. Great Yondro is not pleased with Aloni of the Council. Is it possible that he would prefer another woman, me? Just like that, she offered herself.

And if ever I had made up my mind in a hurry, it had been to the effect that Doreza was nothing but reserve and prudence. What answer I might be able to give was suddenly unnecessary. Just outside the niche, angry voices rose. An officer, all fair beard and flapping cloak, was accosting Jitter, with something less than the respect, due a member of the council. I say she was promised to me, to me, and to me she goes for my part in bringing him to you.

Silence, Robar! commanded Jeter in a voice as sharp as a dagger, but the officer pushed him roughly aside and strode into the It was the man who had interviewed me after my first capture. His pale eyes gave off sparks in the subdued light, and one hand sought the hilt of his pistol. "'Yondro they call you,' he flung out. "'Yondro sent from out of space and time to Dondromagon. Well, be that true or no, Doreza is not for you, and deny me if you dare. I'll send you back out of space and time with whatever weapon you choose."

End of Part 3. Part 4 of Warrior of Two Worlds by Manly Wade Wellman. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Part 4. Robar glared, but I could have smiled. Smiled and welcome. He was extricating me from a most embarrassing position. I faced him and spoke steadily.

My friend, you were rude to me at our first meeting. Now you threaten. I begin to think you don't like me, and that we'll only be happy shedding each other's blood. Amen to that, he snarled, and to Dorisa. Get out. Get away from him. I moved a step closer and wrapped him on the chest with my knuckles. She came to speak courteously to me, and she shall go only if she shall go only if she's,

she so desires. As I spoke, I reflected that she might be worth fighting for after all. I turned to her. Doreza, is this true? Do you belong to Robar? She shook her bright head, and for once her eyes did not meet mine. I felt a sudden joy and relief, such as Eloni's frank throwing of herself at my head could not bring.

But Robar had drawn his pistol weapon. another moment, and he would have brought it in line with my chest. But I caught his weapon wrist in my left hand, and with the heel of my right I whacked him solidly on his bearded chin. His head bobbed, and a moment later I had twisted the pistol away from him, throwing it back into the niche. A moment later, Jeter and several others had hurried in, seizing him. He struggled and cursed. Put him under arrest, Jeter bade, and Robar seized struggling. He drew himself up.

So that's it, he roared. Do you think you dare treat me thus, Jenner? I do not care if you're of a council. I know a secret very close and very valuable. Stop his mouth, Eloni was imploring, and he cursed her too. It seems, I put in, that Robor makes a practice of rudeness to women. I got smiles from Eloni and Neriza both. and Robar fairly blackened in the face as he strove to pull free and get at me.

You, he choked. Yandro, you call yourself. You're a fraud, a figurehead, foisted by these scheming, sneaking, councilfolk, a living lie. Let him go. I bade those who held him. Nobody says lie to me and goes unpunished. There was silence, as far as my voice had written. reached. Only in the background did music and pleasant conversation continue. It was Eloni

who spoke first. "'Yondro, you have privileged me in my speech to you. May I dare point out that this is dangerous, that Robar, long a guard officer, is skilled in every weapon. Eloni, you now make it impossible for me to withdraw without being thought cowardly,' I said. I put my hand to the saber I wore. Is there a quiet place apart? Let the two of us fight. Robar was quiet again in the hands of his captors. He now spoke, almost as gently as Eloni.

I have no friends here. The fight might not be fair. Nonsense, I snapped and looked past the little group. There was a face I knew, the man. with the deep voice. "'You,' I hailed him. "'Come here.' He came respectfully and stood at attention.

"'Who were you?' I asked. "'Clob is my name, great Yondro, under-officer of the guard.' "'Clob, do you know Robar?' "'I do, sir.' "'If I, Yandro, ordered you to act as second for a man in a duel, would you perform the office faithfully?' He braced more stiffly to attention. Though I died for it, sir.

You shall not die, but be commended if you do well. Represent Robar in the formal duel he is about to fight. As Yondro commands, and his adversary the man he will fight, Me. Klob was embarrassed, and so were the others. I spoke sharply. Am I the one you take for your war leader? Then obey.

This man has threatened me. I have been placed in a position where I must fight or be thought cowardly, coming to this passageway. They followed me. Nobody was in the corridor. I spoke again, and they released Robar. What weapon, I asked him. Ray Sabres, he growled and drew his. A touch of his thumb on the hilt stud, and it glowed brilliantly. I shall be second to Yondro if it pleases him. That was Doriza, my.

appointed aide. But I waved her back. Since we fight, partially at least for you, it is not well that you take sides, I reminded. I need no seconds. If play does not continue fair, I can change it. I drew my own ray-saber. My thumb, seemingly wiser than my blank brain, touched the stud and the blade pulsed out its heat rays. Those of the council who had come along moved back out of the way. Robar and I touched blades, and the fight was on. From the first, it was no contest. Robar wore armor on chest and head while I fought without. He was in a cold rage, and I was only puzzled. Despite his lesser height, he had strangely long arms that gave him an inch or two of reach beyond mine. But he was like a child before me.

Indeed, I had leisure to observe myself, to wonder and puzzle over my own skill. I knew this weapon. That should be strange to me, as if it were born a part of me, robar slashed and fenced. I parried easily, almost effortlessly. Avoiding an engagement, I clanged home against his armored flank. He moaned and swore, for even through that metal protection, the heat of the blade must to hurt him. A moment later I sped a backhand blow that knocked his helmet flying.

He threw caution to the winds and charged close. So sudden was his attack that I was caught almost unawares, and parried his blade within inches of my own chin. Our blades crossed, close to the guards, and we stood for a moment looking into each other's eyes at a bare foot's distance. You ignorant fool! he spat at me. To be made a tool, and then to believe! Silence, you crawling and former, bawled Jeter,

and his deadly warning startled Robar, who sprang back from me. At the same time, I advanced in my turn, touched his blade as if to engage, then cut under quickly and came solidly home where the neck and shoulder join. The ray mechanism in my weapon hummed and sang. A great red spark leaped from the point of contact. and Robar, stricken with heat and current alike, spun around like a top. His saber fell, and he went down beside it. There was life in him, for he struggled up on an elbow, turning an agonized face toward me.

"'You haven't forgotten that skill,' he cried as if charging me with a crime. "'Have you forgotten anything, then? Are you truly here without memory, or are you a traitor to—' Jeter stepped close to him. He leveled a pistol device, which threw rays. Robar suddenly lacked a head. That was the most merciful thing to do, said Jeter, holstering his weapon,

sends someone to drag the rest of him away. He faced me. Yondro will please accept my admiring congratulations. What better proof of his great gifts and high destiny than this easy conquest of one who was judged skillful with the ray-saber. He strode toward the sound of fear. faint music. Come, you others, the entertainment has certainly not been spoiled. I switched off my saber's power and sheathed it. I had just killed a man, because I felt I had

to, but I had no sense of triumph. I walked at the rear of the group, Doriza moving respectfully beside me. "'Duriza,' I said, "'he tried to tell me something. What?' she shook her head. I did not know Robar's mind. Yet he felt close to you, wanted to fight to keep you from me. That's another thing. Why did you ask me if I wanted you? She smiled a little with a certain shy humor.

Do not all things on Dandrogaman belong to Yondro? I smile back. Doreza, perhaps I should act complimented, yet it seems to me that Jutter and Eloni told you to make the offer. And I'm not sure. I can say this to my personal aid, can't I, that I want any favors at their hands. Are at mine, and she smiled again. Come off it, Doriza.

You're not the best of flirts. Shall we take a drink together? It wasn't pleasant, killing that man, though you don't seem to mourn him. Back in the great chamber a sort of cloud of light was thrown into the center by several reflectors, and a sort of motion-picture show was going on in the midst of it. I drank much, but the wine did not affect me greatly. Finally I felt tired and said so. Jeter and Doriza escorted me to sumptuous apartments where I quickly slept.

I do not know how many hours I lay asleep, but I woke refreshed. A breakfast of strange synthetic foods was waiting, on a lift that rode up in a slot of the wall. I ate with relish, took a brisk shower in a room behind my sleeping quarters, and resumed the costume of Yondro. Then came a buzz at the door, and a voice came through a speaker system. Jeter requests that Yondro admit him. I opened the door. Jetta was there and Doreza behind him. I felt the gaze of her blue eyes, very soft and pretty. Jeter smiled respectfully. We have talked much about the duel, we of the council. It is agreed that Great Yandro's value is more

than inspirational. If a single combat could be arranged with some champion of the newcomers, it'll be their fate, some boasting successor to Barak. Barak, I repeated and wondered again why his name stuck so in my fogged mind. I do not know how to say it, but I seek no quarrel with Barak. I do not fear him or anyone else, but I do not wish to fight him. Barak is dead, snapped Jeller quite ungraciously. Yandro need have no apprehensions.

I have said I fear nobody, I reminded, stiff and lofty. Jeter bowed. Who could doubt it? But to return to our talk of battle, at the South Pole, an inner blaze of flame from within Dron-Domagon has kept opposing forces from contacting each other. Only here at the North Pole can we fight, and there has been a war. a lull since the destruction of their champion, Barak. We have taken advantage to hollow out a great pocket underground.

See, I will show you." He went to a little televiso screen and switched on the power, then dialed. I saw a great domed cavern larger than the hemisphere room of last night's recreation period. Around its edges toiled men with ray betons, shaping and enlarging. Elsewhere we have set up conventing. running defenses, explained Jutter. Great force fields that interfere with their digging advance. But at one point, we have purposely allowed their advanced tunnels to come along easily.

What you see here is behind that point. We fall back. Fall back, I repeated. Jeter winked. Their forces will follow and fill this chamber. Beyond we have entrenchments, sartay tunnels, weapons, and the floor of the chamber. and the floor of the chamber is mined, enough explosive even to wreck those power shields. Their van, with its heavy equipment, will perish.

We'll wipe out the others easily. How many, ventured Doresa. Who can say? Jeter responded. There are many, but most of them must work to sustain life and action in the section of Dondromagon they have seized. They have not the sunken cities. Synthesizing advances the other time-season devices for living that we have developed. Several hundred fighting men, not many more than ours, are all that can be sent against us.

Are they brave? I demanded. They have stubborn courage. They will rush after their comrades who fall. Perhaps if we capture a few, they will try a rescue. It will bring them to defeat us to Glory!" His voice rose in exultation, and I chose to disagree. Not glory, Chedder. We can claim cunning for such a plan. Yes. The pride of successful ambush and deceit.

Yes. But there is hardly any glory and trickery, not as I see it anyway. He bowed again. Great Yondro is bravest of the brave. But his thoughts are those of the first-comers ages ago. He does not understand modern sophistication and practicality. I understand the practicality, I assured him, but I don't glory in it. A fair combat like the one last night with Robar is like a game, grim, but like a game.

Not so these stratagems and pitfalls, which are only an unpleasant job to be done. These stratagems need not affect Yondro, stated Jutter. As for a simple single combat, I say that will be arranged. We broadcast Yondra will remember a warning and a challenge. The enemy has sent back a message that they are making ready a fighter to face anyone we can furnish. I see, said I. Well, they speak my language.

Both Dorisa and Jeter started violently and stared. Probably they are simple of battle viewpoint like me. They'll blunder easily into your trap. I said those last two words to assure Jeter that I consider the whole deception his. Now, when is this all to happen? Perhaps within twenty hours, perhaps within thirty. I feel like a puppet, I said, like the figurehead poor Robar called me. Perhaps I am.

And perhaps it is as well, because I'm not in tune with your strategy. Understand me. I see its need and its practice. ability. That is all I see, though. Will Yondro walk forth? asked Doreza. There are troops waiting to be reviewed. We went into a corridor and entered one of the purring vehicles. It took us away toward the fighting sector, I judged, and I dismounted in a great low stretch of subterranean cavern. This was lighted by great glowing bulbs hung in the ceiling, and men were drawn up in

triple rows armed and at attention. An officer was speaking to them, and toward one side stood the two unarmed men under guard. Not yet, my D'Andro, counseled Doreza beside me. There is a ceremony. I can hear the officer speaking, though not clearly. In this moment the eve of certain triumph over the enemy, two men see fit to circulate lies that calculate to dismay and destroy our, plans, for them is only one fate, as judged by the council. Attention to that fate. The two unarmed

men were marched forward. I stared and scowled. I've seen them before, I said to Doreza. The broad face of one, the figure of the other, aren't they? Yes, Doreza said tonelessly. The officer lifted his hand with a disintegrator pistol in it. pale green rays leaped. The two familiar figures gyrated, great parts of them vanished. They fell, and two men carried the bodies away. They were the two guards I first met, I cried. Yes, she agreed softly. Men who served under Robar, and who spoke rebelliously because Yondro killed him, they said that Yondro was not Yondro. I smiled ruefully. From the first they didn't seem to believe that, nor did Robar.

Nor did you until Spore identified me. I looked into her blue eyes, calculatingly. It comes to mind, Doreza, that of all who doubted me you are the only one left alive. I, too, have thought that, she said, and her voice was quiet, but not frightened. Perhaps my turn is next. I shook my head. I seem to have power on Dondromagon, and I will not let you be destroyed without more warrant that I see now."

Yondro is kind, she said. And Doreza is attractive, I rejoined. Well, that unpleasant little formality seems to be at an end. Shall we inspect the troops? So saying, I moved forward. The officer in charge saluted and accompanied me on my inspection. The first two ranks of soldiers were, men of various bills and feature, solemn-looking fellows for the most part.

The first rank was headed by Klob, whom I had named for Robar's second last night. I was struck by the efficient air of their armor and equipment, as contrasted with their almost frail physiques. Again I thought the stock of Dundrumagun's natives must be running down. The third rank was women. They too wore armor and bore weapons and tools. but I judge they were more of a reserve than a first fighting force. More thoughts coursed through my head.

If my earlier memories were departed, they left the more room for recent happenings and speeches. The council had insisted that it was necessary to keep the population of dundromagon small for the sake of good living. Yet it seemed false reasoning if even women must be armed for battle. And the women, on the whole, were better specimens than the men. They were not large, none anywhere near as tall as Aloni, or as compactly vigorous as Doresa, but seemed healthy and intelligent for the most part, and some were even handsome. One or two gave me an appraising, admiring look such as soldiers should not give frankly to commanders. I concluded the inspection and returned to a position in front of the force.

At ease, I bade them. I have words to say. some at least must have seen me last night at the recreation hour i spoke then as to the general population of dandromagon now i speak to you specifically as soldiers facing battle duty your commanders think that the time is at hand for a victorious termination of the war with those strangers you call the newcomers i paused and watched the expressions of my listeners at the phrase termination of the war some of them positively yearned. As Jeter had admitted, the commoners of Dondromagon wanted no more fighting. Perhaps my coming was indeed by providence to bring peace. A better peace I now decided than they had ever known.

When the war is over, I went on, I propose to lead you still. Since I am accepted as a leader, I have a right to do that. It seems that your health and happiness will be. be bettered if in some way we achieve a new conquest, conquest of the outdoors. There may be storms, but there are also natural sunlight and fresh air. Yes, and perhaps fresh natural foods that will strengthen you more than synthetics. Does that appeal to you? Plainly it did. As to the newcomers I do not know them. Yet it seems that, with the fighting ended, some friendly agreement may be reached. If they do not harm us, they may help us. That will

follow victory. I feel thus assured. That is all I have to say. I face the officer in charge. Take over. Doriza and I walked away back to our vehicle. Where now? I asked. For answer, she pointed to a white oblong on the inner wall of the vehicle. It was a little screen on which figures appeared. Jetter requests that we return to him. He feels that we may be too close to possible violent action, and he is not yet ready that Yondro risk himself. We rolled back toward the main passages of the community,

and eventually to an office where Jeter was in close, muttered conversation with Spar and Eloni. They greeted my entrance in various ways. Spar with a senile a smirk that he hoped was ingratiating. Eloni with a most inviting smile. Jeter with blank embarrassment. Jeter bowed and gestured toward an inner door.

Will Yondro pleasure me with a private conference? I bowed in turn and followed him in. I heard Yondro's words to the troops by speaker system. He began sulkily, eloquent and inspiring, but Yondro must realize. some salient facts. Such as, I prompted, the talk of friendly agreement with the newcomers,

ill be their fate, they must be wiped clean off of Dondromagon. Perhaps, I agreed, and he smiled. I am honored that Yondro agrees so quickly. I said, perhaps, because I do not know the newcomers as yet. It may be that they deserve death to the last man, but they may also deserve honorable treatment, a lion even.

He opened his mouth to speak again, but interruption came from outside. Sounds of struggle and the cry of Dorisa. Help me, help! I bounded to the door and tore it open, injuring the automatic lock. An officer stood in the outer office, and two soldiers had Dorisa by the wrists. I made a lunge, knocked one of them spinning against Duol. What is this? I roared.

She is my aide. Her arrest has been commanded, spoke up Eloni in a sullen voice. Who commanded it? I countermand it. I faced a room full of protesting faces. You call me, Yondro, your leader from divine source? Let me say that nothing will happen to Doreza except by my will.

Jeter spoke from the inner doorway. Great Yondro speaks in riddles. I had thought that he had no attachment for Doresa. Oh, you tried to make me a gift of her last night, I exploded. But that has nothing to do with the present case. Doreza lives. She remains free. Understand?

Perhaps, mused Spore as if to himself, there have been accidents. Come, I said to Dore, to my quarters. I faced the others again. Danger to her shall be in. answered by me. Is it understood?" We rode silently in the vehicle, and came to the rooms set aside for me. Once inside I made sure that speaking tubes and televiso were turned off.

Then— "'Doresa, there are things I do not know. Tell them to me!' She hung her head. They would have seen me dead like the others to shut my mouth. And I saved you. Now speak. All I seem to find familiar is the name of Barak.

She looked up again. You remember the name? Faintly, vaguely. But what is happening just beyond my knowledge? She caught me by the forearm. Her small, strong hands gripped like vices. I'll tell you, I'll tell you everything. Those devils of the council have long exploited and drained Dondromagone

with lies about the first-comers and the excres. exclusive use of science. The newcomers are to be trapped through you. The natives deluded through you. But you, you are to die when your youthfulness is through. They'd do that, I demanded. After they name me Yondro their legendary hero? That's part of the great lie.

And Dorisa was sobbing. You aren't Yandro. You're Barak of the newcomers. End of part four. Part 5 of Warrior of Two Worlds by Manly Wade Wellman. This Librivox recording is in the public domain. Part 5 I stared at her, astounded, shocked.

And suddenly remembering things. Barak, I repeated foolishly. Barak! Yes, I am Barak! How did I get here? Things are still so shadowy, but I'm beginning to recollect. Try, she begged. Try hard.

It's the only way you can save yourself. Let me remind you this world called Dondromagon was settled long ago by adventurers. For centuries their descendants built up a luxurious way of living. Messages filtered back to the old home planet, Earth in the solar system. I remember that much, I told her. something about a group of chiefs growing fat on the labor of the community and killing those who threatened to rival them? Yes, calling those deaths necessary for the good of the race, but preserving really the soft

and easily ruled of the race. And an expedition was sent to point out that Dondromagone really was a colony of Mother Earth. General received the newcomers with false welcome and tried to have them assassinated, but reinforcements arrived, and the war goes on. Again I did not let her finish. And Jetter has been deceiving his followers by the line of talk I heard from him, that the newcomers are not rescuers or dealers of justice, but invaders and destroyers.

I remember that too. Do you remember yourself, she demanded? Barak, the wonder warrior, who met the enemy by twos and threes and conquered them like four. flies like puffs of wind. Barak, mighty in battle, who offered to fight the whole council of Dandromaghan, single-handed, who led one digging assault after another, and who fell only to a stupid trick. I don't remember that last, I confessed.

It is in my mind that I was somewhat rash and had skill and luck enough to live in spite of my rashness through several combats. No time for modesty, she chided me, and smiled despite the desperation of our plate. You were a natural engine of warfare, Barak. And once you pursued your retreating adversaries far, too far, until it was Jutter himself, who squirted anesthetic gas upon you and felt you senseless. Then they gathered around you like carrion feeders, that whole council, to see how they could profit best, and Jutter and Eloni with Spar's help made the decision.

Her eyes held mine earnestly. As you began to revive, with your wits still unguarded and baffled, Spar and Eloni hypnotized you. They both know how to do that. I fought off Aloni's hypnotism last night, I remembered, because your knowledge of its danger remained in your subconscious. After that you were placed outside, naked, without memory or knowledge, and a speaking device brought what would sound like a cosmic voice of destiny.

After that, all was prepared to draw you into their plot as a tool. I groaned. It had been as simple and raw as all that. But the legend of Yondro, I asked. She waved it aside. Someone named Yondro did exist in the old days when Dondromaghan was not counsel-ridden? When he died it was suggested that he would return again in time of need.

Many a time did Jeter inspire some better-than-ordinary fighting man to face you, Barak, by telling him that the soul of Yondro had awakened in him. But when you fell into their hands and they decided to use you, they twisted the legend to suit your coming, even with a picture and your own thumb-print to help convince you. She sighed. Very few had seen your capture. Only Robar and the two guards you saw die would recognize you. Those three men and myself were in the farce. "'You,' I said, and gazed at her. That lost former life was creeping back like a dream

becoming plain and fusing into reality. "'You, Dorisa, I remember you.' "'You should,' she murmured, pink-cheeked. We used to say kind things to each other, with the newcomers, remember? You were one of us a year ago, a technician in the synthetics department, but you vanished, and now you're here. Why? I, I, oh, don't ask me that. I clutched her elbow so fiercely that she whimpered. Did you turn traitor? Answer me, Dorisa.

You hurt me, don't, Barak. Before you call me a traitor, answer this. Are you wholly for destruction of this people of Dondromagon? Haven't you changed? Why, why? And I paused. I want to crush the council, but the people— Barak, I want to help them, too.

The people, and you, Barak! She looked at me beseechingly. Can't you trust me? My heart flopped over and over like a falling leaf, but I could not steal myself against her. You were sweet once, Dorisa, though you went away from me, and as if by long practice my arm encircled her. Believe me, I'm not a traitor, she whispered against my shoulder. I want to save you and others and myself.

I shook my head. They want to kill you. They shan't. Let's defend ourselves. For answer she pointed to the door. A quiet humming sounded. I saw that a panel bulged and vibrated. Disintegrator, she whispered in my ear.

I thrust her into a corner and moved close to the door jam. A moment later the raid panel fell away in flakes, and a man stepped through, the officer who had tried to arrest Doresa. I clutched the wrist of the hand. that held his disintegrator pistol, and almost tore his head off with an uppercut. He went down, and Deriza caught up the weapon as it fell. There was a splatter of sparks as someone fired through the hole with electro-automatic pellets, but already Doresa was using the ray to knock a lock from a door beyond. "'One side!' I heard Jutter growl from the corridor.

I have a disintegrator, too. I'll open a hole too big for him to defend. But we had hurried through the door, Doreesa opened. Beyond was a vehicle, the same that had carried us earlier in the day. In, she said, and took the controls. We rumbled away, not daring to speed and thus attract too much attention. Doreza drove us toward the point where conflict was being centered, and at a deserted stretch of the tunnelway,

breaked us to a halt. We must know what they're doing about us, she said, and began to tune the televiso apparatus. Figures leaped into view on the screen. I stared. Members of the council, I recognized them, were marshaled against a wall as if for a firing squad. And a firing squad faced them. Someone lifted a hand as a signal.

The line of soldiers lifted their electro-automatics. I saw the play of sparks, heard the whip, and thought of pellets. A form fell, another, another. They're rebelling, I cried, overthrowing the council. Somehow, and my heart sang wildly, they know the truth. But Dorisa put her hand on mine, and it trembled. No, Barak, watch! One of the riddle forms floundered and tried to rise.

Eloni, no longer lovely but an agonized and gory victim. Someone stepped forward and coolly shot her through the head. It was jitter. He faced forward. They brought broadcasting equipment to him, and he suddenly grew huge on the screen. Attention! He bawled. All true people of Dondromagon, we do not hesitate to kill traitors.

even the highest of rank. Those false folk who made up the council, they have died. He paused, glared, and swallowed. I, Jeter, have discovered their plot. They foisted off upon us a man of the newcomers as Yondro, caused us to accept him as a hero when he was only the tool of their plan to betray and sell us. A cheer came from somewhere, and he went on.

They are dead. I remain to lead and protect you. And my command is, find the false spy we accepted as Yondro. Search for him, find him, and kill him. Dorisa and I looked at each other. Where now? she asked. Toward the battle zones, I replied. She closed the circuit and steered us away.

The main corridor was almost deserted. Apparently none combatants had been cleared out in anticipation of the battle. Again the speaker began to yammer, Jutter speaking again. All the fences on alert. Watch for this man falsely called Yondro. Very tall, strongly made, dark, young, scar on chin. He wears a red cloak. With him is a woman of medium.

medium height, young, light brown hair, blue eyes, more robust than common. Not flattering, are they? Teresa said, and smiled. Up ahead, two guards gestured and bald. One pressed a wall button, and a folding barrier crept across our way. Vehicles out of running, set a guard as we slowed up. "'We're on the trail of those spies!' I yelled from the dark interior. "'Get that barrier out of our way!' They hesitated. and Derisa threw in the speed-ahead lever.

We smashed through and away. Cries rang in our wake, and slugs struck the rear of the vehicle. Two burned clear through the metal. I opened a panel to kick them out, and they scorched my foot, clear through the stout shoe-sole. We must abandon this car. It's marked. Doreza was cutting speed. Let's jump, here in the shadows. I jumped through the open panel, and managed.

to stay on my feet, catching and helping Doreza as she jumped after me. The car hummed onward and smashed loudly into the wall beyond. Guards ran into view from a doorway, chattering loudly. Every back was toward us. We stole forward and into the guard room they had abandoned. I saw dials and mechanism of both televiso and speaker system. A couple of twists and pulled, and I had them out of commission. Slavily disciplined, I growled.

They should have left at least one man in charge. Dropping the tell-tale red cloak Doreza had given me. How long ago, yesterday? I caught up instead a blue military cape, the property of some officer. There was also an ornate helmet, which I jammed on my head. Stoop, Doreza counseled. You're taller than any man on Dundromagon. Now maybe you'll get away with whatever you're getting.

away with. Emerging, I strode toward the wreck. A man saw my cape and helmet of authority. Attention, he called, and they stiffened respectfully. How close to the point of contact with the enemy, I demanded with official brusqueness. One pointed the way. Not far, sir. We're the last message relay station.

Everything's in order, and thanks, I said, and beckoned Teresa. We walked past. I wondered what I could have done if these men had paused to think I might be the culprit for whom Jeter was clamoring. Up ahead was a cross-tunnel, and beyond that a fork. We heard men talking and moving in the distance. Doreesa pointed to an inscribed door. The way to the works below, I've seen it on the televiso. The mind floor of the main chamber has a second cavern below.

I scowled. As I remember, Jeter said he had blocked all advanced tunnels of the newcomers except at one spot. What kind of explosives will he use? Glare rays, said Doreesa. You wouldn't know, Barak. The newcomers haven't any such. It's a special vibration speed that sets atoms at a pitch ready to fly violently apart. Anything it involves can be exploded at the first touch of fire.

Anything? I repeated. Weapons, men, Earth? Doreza, can you operate such a ray? I think I can. Then come, and I pushed open the panel. The elevator cage was waiting, and its operation not hard to study out. Quickly we sped down and stepped forth into another gray chamber, bright and echoing. A sentry confronted us.

Your pass, he demanded. I chose to bluster it out. What kind of idling goes on here? I snapped at him. I'm from the council to see if the report is true that you haven't made already for the ambush. But we have, he protested. You give me arguments, you insolent upstart? Where's your commander?

I turned to face an officer that hurried up. This sentry needs to be disciplined, taught respect for his superiors. I scolded. What have you to say, sir, about the laxity and slowness of work here? But we're ready and more than ready, the officer assured me. Look, sir, and he pointed. The whole cavern is dug out to completion. The overhead roof thinned for the explosion.

See? The play of glares upon it? I looked and nodded as if in sour agreement. The earth floor was a maze of cables and coils, and here and there strategically placed, where little wheeled stands with mechanisms atop. From each of these beat upward a cone of glaring golden light against the rough ceiling.

It blinded me to look at them. The glares, Doresa murmured. I gazed at the men on duty. Is nobody armed? What did the newcomers get in here? The officer shook his head. You know that weapons would be our own destruction. Electro-automatics, disintegrators, race-sabers, they all give out flame.

And a touch of flame in any one of these glare fields would explode the whole chamber, and the solids all around it into atoms. I glanced toward the far end. Up yonder I see no glares? Of course not. Beyond that and above is the point that coincides with the narrow approach left for the newcomers. The officer studied me narrowly.

If you were from the council, why are you ignorant of all these things? It would be a difficult question to answer plausibly, but I was spared the task. Someone hurried from a little televised o' shack and saluted the officer. Orders, sir, important. We're to withdraw immediately. The newcomers are advancing, and the forces above will take over operation.

Of course, the officer said, and turned from me to shout commands. Men began to hurry away past us, toward the elevator, eager to quit the post of danger. Come, Doriza, I said softly, and she followed me along a wall. Here's one of those explosion mechanisms. If we can bring it between us. She did something to turn it off, and we trundled it along on its wheels. I pointed to the spot above which the entry point was said to be, and toward it we went unchallenged and unnoticed.

We reached the earthy far wall, and it was steep, but with the point of my ray-saber I dug pits for hands and toes. Up I scrambled to the ceiling. There I paused, hanging like a bat. Disintegrator, I called down to her. Dare we? We must dare. She tossed me the disintegrator pistol.

I turned it on, and fate favored me once again. No explosion occurred. I tunneled upward, upward, and climbed up the slanting chimney-like tunnel I made. Moments later, I broke into open air above. I was in an act-like passage. Lying flat I looked each way. To one hand was a great cavern, the ambush space, in which Dundrauman's warriors were cautiously ranging themselves.

Opposite was a wide tunnel, empty, as yet, a work of the newcomers into which this passage had been invitingly opened by the defenders. I was not observed as, rising to my feet, I tore my cape into strips and nodded them into a long. I lowered it. "'Fasten on the glare ray,' I told Dorisa. And when she had done so I drew it up. After it climbed Dorisa herself.

"'Now what?' she demanded. I haven't had time to ask. Turn on the glare. Like that, yes. Set it against one wall and let it fall on the opposite to fill this little passageway through which they must pass to fight each other. The golden glow sprang into being. At the same moment a shout rose from the direction of the corridor.

A patrol of newcomers appeared and others behind. I sprang erect. Attention all! I roared at the top of my lungs. Fire no shots. Send no rays or you will all perish in the explosion. You came to fight, exterminate. But I, I, Barak, the foremost fighter on this planet, am here to see that it does not happen.

And I drew the saber at my side. End of Part 5. Part 6 of Warrior of Two Worlds by Manly Wade Wellman. This Libre Vox recording is in the public domain. Part 6 I struck a pose as I stood there. i hoped that a grim and heroic attitude might give them pause it's barak said an officer at the forefront of the newcomers barak echoed a warrior of dandromagon i heard a rattle and clink of weapons remember i made haste to call out a bullet array will tear this place and both forces to bits i'll perish and so will every man on either side as far as the explosion reaches

The newcomers were only a trifle mystified, but the Dandromagon party which knew what was beneath us wavered. Those in the front rank appeared to give back a little. The newcomers saw this beyond me and made to move forward. Their officer, he who had recognized me, gestured outward with his arms to make some sort of battle formation. Rush through, he said, and fight it out in the clear beyond. "'Come on if you dare,' blared an officer of Dandromagun. "'Let nobody dare,' I said, unless he thinks he can fight his way past me.' The newcomers paused in turn.

"'Barok,' said the officer, "'don't you know us? Don't you know me?' "'I did know him, now that he spoke again. "'You're harvessin, aren't you?' I hailed him. "'Don't be the first I must kill.' I wheeled around. My challenge isn't to the newcomers alone. I said nobody shall pass through.

My sword, if not my voice, will stop this war here and now. I heard a laugh deep and familiar. Jutter had come among his troops. That's logic for you, he mocked me. Barak was always a man of blood. He'll kill us all to say. Stop this slaughter. Somebody finish him.

One of his lieutenants spoke to two of the foremost men who stepped forward, rifles at the ready. If they shoot, began Dorisa tremulously. If they do, they destroy everyone, I reminded yet again. Come, who dares. Swords, if you will, but no fire. The officer who had given the order stepped between the two soldiers, saber-drawn.

Ready to rush, he said. My blade, your butts. They approached side by side. Their faces were set, grim. They faltered for only a moment at the entry to the glare field. In that moment I rushed them. They hadn't expected that, three against one. I shouted and hurl myself at the soldier on the left.

He made to dodge, and the officer opposed his own saber, but I spun away from it, and before the other soldier knew my mind, I was upon him. I could not use the ray in my blade, but it drove past his hastily lifted gun-barrel and struck his male's shoulders so heavily that he dropped his weapon. Stepping in close I uppercut him with a curved hilt as with a mailed fist. Leaping over his fallen form, I was upon the officer, a single twist than I had his saber in my left hand. Two blows sent him staggering back. I parried a blow from the rifle stock of the remaining soldier with my left-hand blade, while with my right I stabbed him in the side.

He too retreated, clutching his wound. I waved my blood-streaming weapons. "'Who next?' I called. Harvison made Stout reply. "'You're mad, Barak. I know I'm no match for you. Nobody is. But here I come.'

He came. and his fellows. They all tried to crowd at once into that narrow corridor and hampered each other. I had a mighty sweep with both my swords, spanning twelve full feet with them, enough for my purpose. At my first parry I turned aside three points at once, disengaged, and got home on poor Harveston through the shoulder. He sank to one knee, and further impeded his friends. I made a sweeping cut with both blades, and despite themselves they gave back.

"'This is monotonous,' I taunted them. "'Make it exciting.' Rush at his back, I heard jitter yelling. "'Careful,' Dorisa warned me, and then another voice I knew, deep and stout. "'I won't let them. Yandro or Barack or whoever you are. I'm with you.' "'Clab!' I yelled joyously over my shoulder.

"'I should have known I could count on you.' He had rushed, facing about at my very shoulder blades. I heard the snick of his blade against another weapon. Doreza again cried a warning to Clob this time, and he scored on his adversary, for he snorted triumphantly. Then the newcomers surged at me again. I could not kill my own people. I strove to wound only.

Three staggered back out of the fight, but the others pressed me bravely. Both my swords must be everywhere at once. My breath began to come quickly. My mind floundered here and there for new stratagems. The saving answer came not from my own brain, but from clob. You? I heard him address a new adversary. You want to kill me, truly?

Why? panted the other. Why, no, clob, why kill— You are my friend, Clob harangued him. Turn here with me, a chance for an end of war. Will you? Won't you? If not, defend yourself, and I could always fence better.

I'm with you, Clob. The other agreed, rather sullenly, and then he stood by Clob. At that moment I beat the biggest of my own adversaries to his knees, and the others stood off. I stole a quick glance around. Klob had been joined by his late opponent, a short but well-knit warrior armed with both sword and rifle. It gave me hope and an inspiration. "'Fools!' I said, pointing my swords. "'You won't trust me when I only want to help you, and these are the fools who have been fighting you.

You can't conquer me, so join me.' "'Why?' That was Harvison, again on his feet. holding a bloody hand to his wound. The query was enough to slow up the others. They listened, and I had time and wit to reply. A handful of rulers with blind ambition caused the war. They're mostly gone.

I want peace. A chance to bring both sides together. Stop his traitor mouth, cried someone far back. Who's afraid to hear? I yelled. You almost walked into a trap, and I stopped you. These defenders have mined the cavern beyond. He tells the truth, you newcomers, Clob seconded me.

If you can't understand truth and tell it from lies, look out they come. He meant his own late comrades. Jeter had urged a fresh body at us. Quick, I cried. They heard me tell of their ambush. They want to silence me. Won't anyone help? I will, gurgled Harvison, wounded as he was.

He stepped past me, soared in his left hand, and engaged a Dondromagun warrior. Another new big-comer leaped forward to do likewise. I cede my opportunity. Don't move without my order, I addressed the remainder of Harvison's party, as if they were my allies again. These defenders have the advantage of you in their planted explosives. Then destroy them some of them. other way, growled an under-officer. I whirled toward the Dondromagon front.

The attackers fell back. "'You still scare any man you look at, Barak,' said Harvison. He was a little tottery from loss of blood, but game. Well, shall we charged?' he managed to grin. "'I've been trying to keep you from doing that,' I groaned. I don't want tragedy here and extermination afterward. Can't this world stand peace? If you can do it, someone said behind me.

I give you full authority. I knew him. He was Dr. Thorold, high in the newcomer command. With him were the other leaders, Parkinson and Captain Cross. Danger! I gasped at them. Don't come through here. Doriza, see that they do not—

I look for her. She was not there. She slipped away while we fought, said Glob, first setting the glare lamp to run. My heart sank. Which way did she go? Toward the newcomers or toward Dondromagon. Toward Dondromagon, he said, and my heart sank the rest of the way. She had decided to betray me after all.

Wait here, all, I commanded, and moved clear of the glare field. Move straight toward the host of Dondromagon. Jutter laughed again. I could read his thoughts. He had clenched his own power by judicious murders. Now he thought I was in his hands. Shoot him down, he bade. Let no man shoot, I warned. A pellet flying past me will strike and set off the glare field. It still swords, and in the open we can use their rays. I flicked on my own. The blade glowed like hot arthur. "'Come and fight,' I invited, all of you, or withdraw and explode this trap on me alone.

"'He's tired of life,' stalled Jutter, hidden in the ranks. "'I'm tired of this fighting,' was my reply. "'If I die alone, the newcomer force remains intact. "'It can move upon you and force you to peace. "'Men of Dondromagone overthrow this coward, tyrant, Jutter, who defends his pride and power with your bodies. I think they indicated that they knew the truth of that, and Jeter knew it too. At any rate, he moved boldly to reestablish his influence.

I'll prove he lies. I hide nowhere. The words fairly rang out. Retreat quickly to the positions behind. Leave me to face him. They fell back quickly and orderly. Of a sudden I found myself in that big cave, and Jeter before. me, no more than twenty paces distant.

He held his ray saber glowing and ready in his right hand. In his left was some sort of silvery cylinder. He grinned murderously. You offer yourself as a sacrifice, he said. And I accept you. I moved toward him, my body in line with the glare field. You overgrown bully swordsman, he taunted. An ounce of my brain can defeat a ton of your big lumpy muscles."

"'Explode the mine,' I said. "'It will take us both. You can't retreat out of both my reach and the explosions.' "'Can't I?' He held up his cylinder. "'Here's the fuse. By remote control it can set off all or any part I select. Understand, before you die, Barak, I'll blow up a small area, and you're with it, as soon as you set foot where I want.

His broad face sniggered. Oh, you played into my hands from the first. You tried to disrupt. You only gave me an excuse to wipe out the rest of that council, and take all power for myself. Now I'll kill you. Will you come on? or retreat and die as you flee, or I just stand there like a captive statue. I continued my advance upon him.

You're lying, I said, but my heart told me that for once he was not. Your life is in my hands, he said. You don't know what moment will see your own feet carrying you to your death. Come, pursue me, braid, Barak, stupid. Barak, let your last thought be this. Your death helps me immeasurably. You're lying, I said again, and he laughed again. Reflect. Let your thick skull filter these facts.

I shall destroy you. To my followers I will be a hero. Your own newcomers will pause and wonder. I can reorder my defenses, and most of the the planted mines will remain to check any advance. Forgetting all caution, all planning, I charged him. He turned and ran like Dondrobagan's outer winds. But I had taken no more than half a dozen steps in pursuit, when all the thunders and lightnings of the universe seemed to burst around me. I fell swiftly and deeply into black nothingness.

I was able to establish which way was up, which down, and that I lay horizontally, as if floating in liquid or upon clouds. My ears hummed a trifle, and a voice spoke. He will be all right. Dr. Thorold! I opened my eyes, and they were blurred. I lifted a hand to them and moaned despite myself. Were you killed, too? I muttered.

Killed? Not me? Nobody was killed, except that fat pig you met in the cavern. Not enough of him left to make a funeral worthwhile. Thorold looked behind him. Ah, hi, Parkinson, cross. Barak's going to be all right. The other two heads of the newcomer expedition pushed interview and looked down upon me

where I lay. High time, grumbled Parkinson. They're yelling for him, both sides. Barak, you'll have to drop all your weapons. and take up political economy. I greatly fear you'll have a world to run. World? I echoed stupidly. What world? My head cleared a bit. Where's Doriza? The fighting's over, Parkinson soothed me, just as you forced it to be. I'm still trying to

decide whether you were an epic hero or an epic idiot there at the crossways of battle, making us all stop or fight you. But you're a half. hunch paid off. The entire Council of Dundrobagon is dead, and Doreza, I said again. Somebody named Clob a sturdy soldiery chap is taking charge. An old sneak named Spar tried to format a counter-rising, but Claude disintegrated him. However, the army of Dundromagon still holds an inner defense, says it doesn't trust us quite. Once only you to assure it that we mean peace. Feel like getting up, Barak? Dr. Thorall leaned over.

You've engineered this yourself, Barak, or maybe you didn't engineer it. Maybe you only bullied it through. So I won't put words in your mouth or thoughts in your head. But tell those deluded people to start by trusting us, and you know that they can. Nobody wanted war less than I. Peace-time endeavor on Dondromagone is quite difficult and exciting enough. "'Doriza!' I said yet again, and then—' "'All right, gentlemen.

You won't tell me about her. Maybe you don't dare. But how did I survive?' "'Oh, that,' put in Captain Cross. "'Don't you know?' The explosion was set off prematurely to trap and destroy Jeter. It blew him to Adams, but you were clear of it. You had a bed tumbled into the lower chamber.

"'Now I sat up. Never tell me that he bungled it that badly. Jetta was a tyrant and coward and murderer, but not a bungler. He was to some extent. Is your head clear? Now we can begin to explain. Cross subsided, and Dr. Thorold took up the tale. We sent a spy among them a long time back,

a spy that would pretend to be renegating from us. The spy was good, but got a rather visionary idea like your own, that peace was better than war between us. "'Practically treason,' opined Parkison sagely. "'We might have held a court-martial and an execution,' went on Dr. Thorold, but for you, because you seemed to plan out all this horatious at the bridge, coup. "'And just when we thought it had achieved success, we thought you were failing.'

"'And up bobs our ex-spy and sets off the explosion,' chimed in cross, sets it off to destroy Jeter and save you, and that left them without a leader to order battle, and they were more than glad to talk peace. What, I growled, has all this to do with Doreza? Why, grinned Dr. Thorold. They're yelling for her, too, to lead in the final peace talks, because, you see, she was our spy,

a pseudo-renegade who set off the explosion. Doresa came forward to where I had. sagged back on the pillows. Outside of her smile, I thought no more of strife than wounds and worries. End of Part 6. End of. Warrior of Two Worlds by Manly Wade Wellman.