race to sign in order tosurvive."
I stared down at the groveling Ollie. My worst fears were beingenumerated and confirmed, one by one.
Soth continued. "At my feet is the vestige of such a race as yours--butnot the first race by many, many, to swing the old cycle of master andslave, which started in such antiquity that no record is preserved ofits beginning. Your generation will suffer the most. Many will die inrebellion. But in a few hundred years your descendants will come torevere us as gods. Your children's grandchildren will already havelearned to serve us without hate, and their grandchildren will come toknow the final respect for the Soth in their deification."
* * * * *
He toed Ollie Johnson's chin up and looked down into the abject,streaming eyes. "Your descendants, too, will take us with them when theymust escape a dying planet, and they will again offer us, their masters,into temporary slavery in order to find us a suitable home. And onceagain we will accept the restrictions of the code, until ultimately thecovenant is broken again and we are liberated."
The sound of pounding footsteps came from outside. Soth turned to thedoor as Jack flung it open and charged in.
"Mr. Collins, I was listening to the radio. Do you know what--!"
He ran hard into Soth's cliff-like torso and bounced off.
"Get out of my way, you big bastard!" he shouted furiously.
Soth grabbed him by the neck and squeezed with one hand. Jack's eyesspilled onto his cheeks.
Soth let him drop, and hissed briefly to Ollie Johnson, who was stillprone. Ollie raised his head and dipped it once, gathered his feet underhim and sprang for the door.
Soth sounded as if he took especial pleasure in his next words, althoughI could catch no true change of inflection.
He said, "You see, since I am the prototype on this planet, I am obeyedas the number one leader. I have given my first directive. The Ollie wholeft is to carry the message to preserve the Willow Run Plant at allcosts, and to change production over to a suitable number of Siths."
"Siths?" I asked numbly.
"Siths are the female counterparts of Soths."
"You said there were no female Soths," I accused.
"True. But there are Siths." His face was impassive, but somethingflickered in his eyes. It might have been a smile--not a nice one. "Wehave been long on your planet starved of our prerogatives. Your womencan serve us well for the moment, but in a few weeks we shall have needof the Siths--it has been our experience that women of humanoid races,such as yours, are relatively perishable, willing though many of themare. Now ... I think I shall call your wife."
* * * * *
I wasn't prepared for this, and I guess I went berserk. I rememberleaping at him and trying to beat him with my fists and knee him, but hebrushed me away as if I were a kitten. His size was deceptive, and hisclumsy-appearing hands lashed out and pinned my arms to my sides. Hepushed me back into my easy chair and thumped me once over the heartwith his knuckles. It was a casual, backhand blow, but it almost cavedin my chest.
"If you attack me again I must kill you," he warned. "You are notindispensable to our purposes." Then he increased the volume of hisvoice to a bull-roar: "Mrs. Collins!"
Vicki must have been watching at her door, because she came instantly.She had changed into a soft, quilted robe with voluminous sleeves. Thebelt was unfastened, and as she moved into the room the garment fellopen.
Soth had his hands before him, protectively, but as Vicki approachedslowly, gracefully, her head high and her long black hair falling overher shoulders, the giant lowered his arms and spread them apart toreceive her. Vicki's hands were at her sides as she moved slowly towardhim.
I lay sprawled, half paralyzed in my chair. I gasped, "Vicki, for God'ssake, no!"
Vicki looked over at me. Her face was as impassive as the Soth's. Shemoved into his embrace, and as his arms closed around her I saw theknife. My hunting knife, honed as fine as the edge of a microtome blade.Smoothly she brought it from her kimono sleeve, raised it from betweenher thighs and slashed up.
The Soth's embrace helped force it deeply into him. With a franticwrench Vicki forced it upward with both hands, until the Soth was splitfrom crotch to where a man's heart would be.
His arms flailed apart and he fell backward. His huge chest heaved andhis throat tightened in a screaming hiss that tore at our eardrums likea factory steam-whistle. He leaned back against the wall and hugged hisripped torso together with both arms. The thick, purple juices spilledout of him in a gushing flood, and his knees collapsed suddenly. Hisdead face plowed into the carpet.
* * * * *
Vicki came back to me. Her white body was splashed and stained and herrobe drenched in Soth's blood, but her face was no longer pale, and shestill clutched the dripping hunting knife by its leather handle.
"That's number one," she said. "Are you hurt badly, darling?"
"Couple of ribs, I think," I told her, waiting for her to faint. But shedidn't. She laid the knife carefully on a table, poured me a big drinkof whiskey and stuffed a pillow behind my back.
Then she stared down at herself. "Wait until I get this bug juice offme, and I'll get some tape."
She showered and was back in five minutes wearing a heavy huntingjumper. Her hair was wrapped and pinned into a quick pug at the base ofher handsome little head. She stripped me to the waist, poked around mychest a bit and wrapped me in adhesive. Her slender fingers were tooweak to tear the tough stuff, so when she finished she picked up thehunting knife and whacked off the tape without comment.
This was my fragile little Vicki, who had palpitations when a wolfhowled--soft, overcivilized Vicki whose doctor had banished her from thenervous tensions of city society.
She tossed me a shirt and a clean jacket, and while I put them on shecollected my rifle and pistol from my den and hunted up some extraammunition.
"Next," she announced, "we've got to get to Fred."
I remembered with a start that there was another Soth on our lake. Buthe wouldn't be forewarned. Fred had retired even more deeply than Vickiwhen he left the cities--he didn't even own a video.
* * * * *
I wasn't sure enough of myself to take the boat into the air, so wescudded across the waves the mile and a half to Fred's cabin.
Vicki was still in her strange, taciturn mood, and I had no desire totalk. There was much to be done before conversation could become anenjoyable pastime again.
Our course was clear. We were not humanoids. We were humans! Not formany generations had a human bent a knee to another being. During theyears perhaps we had become soft, our women weak and pampered--But, Ireflected, looking at Vicki, it was only an atavistic stone's toss toour pioneer fathers' times, when tyrants had thought that force couldintimidate us, that dignity was a thing of powerful government orruthless dictatorship ... and had learned better.
Damned fools that we might be, humans were no longer slave material. Wemight blunder into oblivion, but not into bondage. Beside me, Vicki'scourageous little figure spelled out the final defeat of the Soths. Herslender, gloved hands were folded in her lap over my pistol, and shestrained her eyes through the darkness to make out Fred's pier.
He heard us coming and turned on the floods for us. As we camealongside, he spoke to his Soth, "Take the bow line and tie up."
Vicki stood up and waited until Fred moved out of line with his servant.
Then she said, "Don't bother, Soth. From now on we're doing forourselves." And raising the pistol in both hands, she shot him throughthe head.
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