A. A. O. Gilmour

“ The flames huddled closer in the intense cold of the upper slope when Rod shorted the heating element. It glowed white while he ripped his pocket in a desperate search for red dust—red oxide from the gryxon mines.
His face was blue when he dropped the dust on the white hot heat coil. The red dust changed to gleaming droplets of mercury. Oxygen—rich pure oxygen was released in the change. He breathed the life-giving fumes through pinched nostrils.
When strength came pouring back into his air-starved system he advanced on the weakened flames. ”

“ Koler’s voice rustled, “perhaps Jerry—your brother—can be put to work in the compartment instead of the mines.”
Mona turned her breath-taking beauty on Rod. Her eyes glowed with passionate conviction. “Don’t you see,” she said softly, “we only make things worse by resisting? The tetrarchs want more slaves. Let them get them—from other planets—other galaxies. If we help them perhaps they will send us back to Earth. You’ve got to understand.” ”

“ As he twisted, Rod saw another boot. It was coming toward him in the full arc of a fast kick. Rod caught it and twisted. He was slightly surprised when the ankle turned a full three hundred and sixty degrees. The guard fell heavily.
He’d gotten to his feet, blaster in hand, when they rushed him. With a savage grin, Rod let go. It was good to put electronic slugs in the advancing guards. A small return payment for the slave who had glowed to his death! Rod wasn’t sure but what his eyes were playing him tricks. He swore the guard was still coming at him. The one with the hole in him! ”

“ The Satanic grin came with the onslaught of the greenish glow.
And then—there were ashes!
“We’re ready, boss.” Bunny’s voice was quiet.
“Yes,” Williamson’s voice was equally low, “we’ve got time until we’re twenty-five—to exterminate every tetrarch on the planet. The best we can hope for is a dead draw. Shall we get started, Rod? There’s little time left to us.”
“We’ll have the advantage of surprise,” Rod agreed, “unless we walk into a trap. But I think we can outmaneuver them.” ”

“ Rod was now alert. “Why don’t the tetrarchs account for every human that escaped?”
“Well, boss,” the barrel-chested Bunny spoke, “they figure, how can they lose? All of us are due for the torch parade once we hit twenty-five.”
“Further,” Williamson added, “from the info I’ve gotten from Mona, the tetrarchs use the Hunt to test themselves. For each quarry caught without aid of any kind a tetrarchian guard gets promoted. If the guard himself is overcome—on his home field—so to speak—the idea is they’re well rid of him. That means a constant process of self selection.... ”

“ Now they needed him—needed his genius to guide them along the path to freedom—to conquest over the hated tetrarchs.
Rod looked at the intent faces about him. “First,” he said, “I want the answers to some questions. I’ve figured part of it out myself—check me if I go wrong.
“The Tetrarchs are not human in shape. They’re really flame-like gobs of energy—probably phosphoric in nature. For some reason, they fashioned plastic bodies which resembled human figures. They have always used these bodies in their dealings with humans—unless they’re hunting.”
Williamson nodded approvingly. ”

“ Before him stretched a plateau, rock-strewn and sand-swept. Beyond it, the topmost peak of the range towered to challenge the pale tetrarchian sun. Rod checked his air supply. There was just enough to get him across the plateau.
He examined the heating element in his suit more carefully and probed an exploratory finger across the pocket over his short ribs. The package was still there. The gash under his arm was bothering him again. Well and good! Maybe there would be a chance for it to heal properly if he ever won through. ”

“ As he ran across rocky ground he wondered how Koler was taking to a silica diet.
His course was hazily sketched in his mind. The smuggled note that had started him from Earth had not been too specific. It couldn’t have been. There was too much chance of its being intercepted. But he had a good working knowledge of Tetrarch’s surface. The problem was to get to the Survivors—those who had somehow escaped the gryxon mines and escaped the hunting tetrarchians—and in getting to them he had to throw his pursuers off the trail. ”

“ Every so often one of the hot-heads decides to escape. The tetrarchs love it. Sometimes, they deliberately give them the chance.”
He pointed to the oxygen cannisters attached to the back of Rod’s space suit. “The cylinders in our human space suits supply enough air to last for eight hours. When the air is exhausted it seems to be a natural reaction to rip the suit open. ”

“ We humans never knew of them until they made their appearance in camouflage. They studied us first, devised the body and then established relations.”
“Yeah,” a Survivor interrupted, “When they took us in, they took us over—but good! They couldn’t have done it any other way—with their one lousy town on a two-bit planet.”
“Under normal temperature conditions,” Rod continued, “they’re gaseous. As it gets colder they become less active and then they turn to liquid.”
“That’s right, chief, and when it gets really cold,” another Survivor added, “they turn to solid. ”

“ Koler grasped a handful of the sand swirling about them. “That’s the climax of the Hunt. We—uh—they allow about an hour’s head start and then stalk the quarry. The idea is to catch him just as he rips his suit. And to get him to the operating chamber just before he dies.
“The tetrarchs are brilliant technicians, even if they are weak on theory. So I’ve helped them. We are anxious to find out why humans exposed to gryxon die on their twenty-fifth birthday. They think research on still-living humans will give them the answer.” ”

“ The slave compartment feint-party left first. Communications-destroyers left in four groups. Space-hangar attack-parties followed. Under Bunny’s direction, they had managed to rig up a fairly creditable camouflage.
There was an argument about command of the main force against the science building. Rod had assumed it without second thought. Williamson was obdurate.
“I don’t care who handles it, Rod,” he said, “but you can’t. If anything goes wrong there’ll be no one left to carry the fight. You’ve got to stay here until we control the lowlands.” ”

“ Rod braced him more firmly—the tortured chest heaved again. “When they found out ... about the Survivors ... they decided to finish us. They had been working to find out about a cure for the gryxon burn. Koler worked with them and discovered how to make it work faster ... said it was a catalyst ... forced us to eat it ... one by one.”
“Mona?” Rod asked gently.
“They’ve saved her and a few more ... going to experiment ... operate ... say humans no use as slaves ... too stiff-necked ... make better guinea pigs ... we’re finished.”
The slave tried to speak again. ”

“ When we win this fight I’m going to get me a tetrarch, freeze it, and use it for a light in my fishing lodge.”
“Oh no, you’re not,” a barrel-chested earthman, incongruously named Bunny, informed him, “you’re going to contribute it to help spell Mona Darlanan’s name in lights on Broadway.” ”

“ They’re all pretty much the same, except for the masks. The ones they use on Earth are built in. Here in Tetrarch they’re removable. They fashioned them to conceal their real structure after they investigated Earth. ”

“ And we’ve got to kill every tetrarchian space ship crew either at the same time or immediately after we destroy communications. We’ve none too much oxygen for a job of this size. That’s our main weapon. ”

“ Koler paused. He peered with bloodshot eyes to see if his remarks were taking effect. “The tetrarchs are anxious to expand their conquests. They need those that are spending their time guarding the humans now. ”