The Infra-Medians | Page 7

marched through
the assembled crowd, directly toward the idol. A high-pitched, sibilant
chant arose from the multitude, and a procession of very ancient beings,

whom I took to be the priests of this god, came in single file from
behind the black god, directing the chanting with movements of their
arms. They were lighter in color than the others, and much more
intelligent, to judge by their faces. Their eyes held none of the sadness
which was the most marked characteristic of the others. Each wore
upon his forehead a gleaming scarlet stone, bound in place by a circlet
of black metal, or what looked like metal.
We paused, and the chanting went on and on, until I began to wonder if
anything would ever happen. And then, at last the chanting ceased, and
three of the priests moved toward us, followed by an elderly being who
wore the same symbol of power or authority that I had already noted
upon the creature Vic called Ee-pay.
One of the priests spoke sharply, commandingly, to Ee-pay, and the
latter nodded--not agreeably it seemed to me.
"The old boy doesn't like these other chaps; priests, I take it,"
whispered Vic. "I think they've been messing up his plans. See; he's
motioning us to watch."
* * * * *
The priests led the old man back to the idol. Eagerly, he clambered
upon the outstretched hands, and stood there facing the grinning face,
stroking the polished cheeks with beseeching fingers. The priests sank
to the floor, bending themselves in mockery of the image. Four times
they touched their foreheads to the ground, and as the fourth gesture
was completed something moved swiftly behind the lips of the image,
as though a plate had lifted for a moment and dropped again.
There was a sharp, murmuring sound, as of a harp-string softly plucked.
A scarlet haze of light shot forth from the mouth of the black god, and
the old man stepped back sharply as though struck by some invisible
agent. He would have fallen, but as he crumpled, his body seemed to
soften and shatter into a scintillating cloud. An instant later there was
no trace of him anywhere.

"Hm-m! The great reward for some notable service rendered, I
imagine," whispered Vic. "Those priests are wiser than the rest of this
crew. They deal death sparingly, and that makes them great. They love
life like a man of our earth; perhaps because they've found out how to
enjoy it."
"But what does the work; what killed him?" I asked breathlessly.
"Can't say, Pete. You can't name things here in terms of our own world.
Some natural force they've corraled, I imagine. They control it with that
shutter behind the lips of the image. Did you notice it?"
"Yes. I suppose one of the priests operates it from some hidden room.
Whatever it is, it certainly does the work. And what do you suppose
they want us to do now?"
* * * * *
The three priests were coming toward us, smiling. I didn't like their
smiles; they were meant to be benign, but there was a cruel and
vindictive twist to their lips which chilled me through and through.
"Keep your hand on your gun," said Vic swiftly. "I don't like the looks
of these chaps."
The priests stopped before us and their leader began a long harangue in
a screechy voice which set my nerves on edge. When he had finished
he held out his hands toward me, and motioned toward the waiting idol.
Ee-pay spoke up in sharp protest, and thrust himself between me and
the priest. For a moment, due to this obviously unexpected interruption,
everything was in confusion.
"Pete!" Vic was whispering excitedly in my ear. "Listen, Pete, I think I
see through this. These priests have heard about us and our
death-dealing ability. They're jealous; they want a corner on that. Old
Ee-pay figures maybe we could do him a favor in that line, and that's
why he's arguing. The priests want to honor us for the good we've

done--by giving us the reward we've just seen. So--"
Before he could finish, Ee-pay was thrust aside by a group of angry
guards, and I was jerked away. Hope screamed, and out of the tail of
my eye I saw both Vic and Hope struggling frantically to free
themselves from an overwhelming number of guards. Vic tried to shout
something, but a claw-like brown hand was immediately thrust over his
mouth.
* * * * *
The guards who held me, followed by the priests, made their way
toward the extended palms which formed the altar of this strange black
god whose favor was death. At a command from the priests, the guards
lifted me to the altar and then