The planet of peril
Had a thunderbolt crashed through the arched ceiling at that moment it
could hardly have created more surprise. Destho was dumfounded.
"Grandon of Terra?" he exclaimed. "But you told me that he was dead."
"I did not tell you that I saw him die," replied Torbo, "and this man
here is unquestionably Grandon of Terra."
A gleam of triumph shone in the eyes of Destho at these words.
"You are more of a fool than I took you to be, Grandon of Terra," he
said. "Perhaps even more of a fool than you took me for."
"It is possible," replied Grandon, "that I surpass you in folly. You
have, however, two other qualities on which I must yield you all
honors."
"And those are--"
"Treachery and cowardice!"
Destho's brows contracted and his face flamed with rage.
"Away with him," he roared. "Let him meditate on his folly in the
darkness of the dungeon until we have use for him."
The burly guards hustled Grandon out of a side door and along a narrow
passage to a winding stairway which seemed to lead into the very bowels
of the earth, so long were they in descending. After manacling his
wrists and ankles they pushed him into a dark, foul-smelling hole and
slammed and fastened a heavy metal door which fitted so snugly that not
the tiniest ray of light was admitted.
As he lay on the damp, slimy floor, Grandon pondered the words of
Destho. The phrase "until we have use for him" was puzzling. Of what
possible use could he be to his captor, other than to afford him
pleasure by his death throes?
* * * * *
Grandon was not to be kept in suspense as to what the usurper Destho
planned to do with his captive. After a short interval, two guards
entered Grandon's dungeon, removed the manacles from his ankles, and
led him up the spiral stairway.
They did not go all the way to the top, but turned off through a narrow
doorway which Grandon judged to be about halfway to the ground level.
A short walk along a dimly-lighted passage brought them to an
underground chamber which looked to Grandon like a workshop or
laboratory of some sort, for it contained several unusual appearing
contrivances.
In one corner was a raised circular platform covered with a resilient
material greatly resembling rubber. He noticed that there was a hole
in the center of the platform, and that a pipe, evidently connected
with the hole, led from under it to a small motor which stood near by.
A huge glass bell was suspended by a pulley above the platform and a
steel chair stood beside it. The only other articles of furniture in
the room were a wooden chair and table on which were writing materials.
The two guards chained Grandon to the steel chair and, lifting him
between them, placed him on the raised platform directly above the hole.
A moment later Destho entered. He looked at Grandon with a grim smile.
Then he turned to the nearest guard.
"I see you have things in readiness. Now bring her imperial majesty and
see that her face be veiled so that none may recognize her on the way."
Scarce had the guard left to do the bidding of his master ere Bopo,
captain of Destho's private guards, entered.
"Where is the document, dolt?" demanded Destho. "Have you failed to
prepare it?"
"Here," replied Bopo, hastily drawing a scroll from beneath his
garments. "I kept it hid, as your majesty commanded secrecy in the
matter."
"Good. Let me have it."
Destho read the document hastily. Then he read it again more slowly.
"Are you sure this is the correct legal form?" he asked.
"I am positive, your majesty."
Destho placed the scroll on the table, then crossed the room and bowed
politely as the guard returned, leading a woman whose face was heavily
veiled.
Suddenly she flung back her veil and rushed forward with a little
smothered cry, paying no attention whatever to Destho. Grandon's heart
leaped to his throat at sight of her pale face and golden tresses.
"Vernia!" he exclaimed, and would have risen, but the chains held him.
"My Grandon--my hero!" she cried as her lips found his and clung there,
and her arms went about his neck. He tried to lift his manacled hands
to smooth her hair as she buried her face on his shoulder, sobbing
incoherently.
"But why did you come here alone--to certain death?" she cried.
Grandon whispered his answer in her ear. "Zueppa, though fearfully
wounded, managed to reach me with tidings of your whereabouts. It would
have been futile to bring my small army, so I came alone, disguised as
the helper of an assassin who attempted my life."
"Enough of this whispering!" cried Destho, smiling maliciously, as he
tore her from her lover and led her to the chair beside the table.
* * * * *
"A pleasant surprise I prepared for you, fair cousin, was it not?"
Destho said. "You have had your little emotional outburst. Now let us
get down to business. I have a document here which needs only your
signature to make it legal. Read it aloud, Bopo, that all may hear and
bear witness."
Bopo took the scroll and advanced pompously to the center of the floor.
He unrolled it with a flourish, cleared his throat, and read aloud:
"'A proclamation by her imperial majesty, Vernia, Princess of Reabon:
"'On the twenty-fourth day of the eighth Endir in the four thousand and
tenth year of Thorth, I, Vernia of Reabon, hereby proclaim and declare
to all my subjects throughout the length and breadth of the empire that
I have taken for my husband, and raised to the office of emperor, to
rule over me and my people, the brave and illustrious Prince Destho.
"'It is my command that copies of this proclamation be made and
distributed to all parts of the empire without delay, and that the
fifth day of the ninth Endir be set aside as a day for feasting and
suitable celebration in honor of this momentous event.'"
He finished and handed the scroll to Destho, who spread it on the table
before Vernia.
She looked up with flashing eyes.
"Surely you do not expect me to sign such a ridiculous document?" she
said.
"You refuse?"
For answer she seized it and flung it from her.
"More temperament," said Destho, coolly, picking up the scroll. "You
compel me to use persuasion."
He made a sign to the guard, who grinned broadly and, losing the chain
by which the glass bell was suspended, lowered it until it rested
firmly on the elastic edges of the platform where Grandon sat, calm and
immobile in the iron chair.
"It is plainly evident," said Destho, "that you have some regard for
yonder doomed man."
Vernia started at his words.
"Though he is a rebel and a traitor and richly deserves death, you
could have saved his life, merely by signing your name. As it is, you
shall have the pleasure of witnessing his death struggles. Start the
motor."
The burly guard crossed to the motor with a grin more broad than
before, and pressed a button.
* * * * *
Vernia, peering intently through the glass, saw Grandon flinch slightly
when the thing started. Then he compressed his lips and settled back as
if resolved to meet his fate calmly. Presently she noticed that he was
breathing convulsively with nostrils distended.
"Stop! You are killing him!" she screamed. "Stop that terrible thing. I
will sign. I will do anything."
Destho made a sign to the guard, who pressed another button and opened
a valve, but not before Grandon's head had sunk limply forward. There
was a loud hissing sound and he raised his head, gasping weakly.
"I thought you might be brought to reason, stubborn and headstrong
though you are," said Destho with a smile of triumph.
He placed the scroll before her and she paused for a moment, for
Grandon was looking at her through the glass and shaking his head
emphatically.
"I cannot do it," she said weakly.
"Very well," replied Destho. He turned to the guard. "Start the motor.
There will be no stopping it this time."
"No, no!" cried Vernia. "Do not start it. I will sign."
Again Destho motioned for the guard to desist. Vernia held the scroll,
half rolled, before her. She looked at Grandon for a moment as if in
silent farewell. Then she tore her eyes from his with a visible effort
and resolutely affixed her name to the document.
Destho seized it eagerly and examined the signature. Then he rolled it
up, stuffed it in his bosom, and with a diabolical laugh, walked to the
motor, closed the valve and pressed the button.
Vernia, sensing his purpose, screamed frantically and ran to shut the
thing off, but he intercepted her and forced her back in the chair.
"I am legal emperor of Reabon now," he said. "There is no more need for
force, for my word is law. I now decree that this traitor shall die,
and you, in company with your beloved husband, will have the pleasure
of watching his death struggles."
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE ATTACK.
When the glass bell was lowered around him, Grandon rightly guessed
that the thing was intended either to torture or kill him--perhaps both.
He gritted his teeth, and determined to show no sign either of fear or
pain, though he flinched when the leering guard started the motor. A
horrible roaring sounded in his ears. Were they pumping some sort of
deadly gas into the bell? He could detect no unusual odor of any kind.
Breathing, however, was rapidly growing more and more difficult. His
body seemed to be swelling--growing larger and larger until he felt as
though distended to twice his normal size.
It was then that he guessed the truth. They were pumping the air out
of the bell! Already he was surrounded by a partial vacuum and every
cell and fiber of his body, accustomed to withstand normal atmospheric
pressure, was swelling, almost to the bursting point. Fearful pains
shot through his body as he gasped and struggled for breath. It seemed
that his eyes were popping from their sockets. Suddenly all went black
before him and his head drooped forward.
A moment later, he was revived by the sibilant inrush of air. He saw
Vernia, apparently ready to sign the proclamation which would make her
the lawful wife of the villainous Destho, and shook his head vigorously.
Though he could not hear what was said, he saw her refusal, the
subsequent threat of Destho, and her final acquiescence.
"Don't sign!" he shouted, but she was looking away from him and his
voice did not reach beyond the thick wall of glass.
It was this and the final treachery of Destho in again starting the
motor that filled him with a consuming rage and aroused him from his
passivity. With a burst of mighty strength of which he had not known
himself capable, he strained at his shackles. A chain parted--then
another. His arms were free. He reached down and wrenched at the
fetters which held his legs. Again the roaring sounded in his ears. He
must break those chains--now or never. A quick jerk freed his right
leg. He twisted the chair from his left and swung it against the glass
with all his might. A thousand tiny checks radiated from the point
where it struck. He swung again. There was a crash and a hollow report
like the crack of a tork as the air surged inward.
* * * * *
The guard stood ready to receive him with drawn scarbo as Grandon
leaped out. Swinging the iron chair, he crushed the man's skull like
an eggshell, and his scarbo clattered to the floor. The other guard,
rushing to the assistance of his companion, met a similar fate.
Destho was dragging Vernia from the room. Bopo still faced Grandon,
scarbo in hand. He hurled the chair, which caught the surprised captain