Mexico.They swept destructively out of the square and into a long tree-linedavenue. This might be another world or dimension but its trees lookednot unlike those of tropical America.
In a short while the radiating streets were cleared of crowds and thecries of the mob died away. Miles and Ward paused in the shadow of anoverhanging wall and wiped their faces. "That was quick work, allright," said Ward; and, even as he said it, the wall seemed to fallupon their unprotected heads and crush them into unconsciousness....
* * * * *
Out of a sick darkness they came. At first they thought they wereconfronting Zoro. Then, as the mists of unconsciousness cleared fromaching heads, they perceived that they were in a vast hall crowdedwith swarthy men in short tunics, and with greenish giants wearingnothing but breech-clouts and swinging short clubs. The fierce eyes ofthe greenish giants were upon them, and the vengeful ones of theswarthy men. But the desire of both to rend and tear was held in checkby the dominant head emerging from a tubular container mounted upon awheelchair. The Americans stared. This was not the head of Zoro. No!
"The head of Spiro," thought Miles and Ward with sinking hearts.
They had fallen into the power of the leader of the insurgent workers!
Spiro--for it was indeed he--regarded them with pitiless eyes. HisEnglish was slower and not as fluent as that of Zoro, and his wordsharder to understand.
"You Americans, beings of another world, have come here at thebidding of the Heads to slay and kill for gold."
He paused. "I who for three years studied your country, learned itslanguage, history, did not believe men of your race could be so vile."
He paused again, and Ward broke out hotly, "It is true that we camehere to fight for gold, but who are you to speak of vileness? Have younot turned on the Heads, your benefactors, now your brothers, whoraised you to their height? Are you not leading a revolt of theworkers which would deny them the means of sustaining life? Are younot seeking to perpetrate--murder?"
Spiro regarded him slowly. "Is it possible you are in ignorance ofwhat those means are? Listen, then, while I tell you the hideoustruth. Since the dawn of our history, until the present moment, theHeads have maintained their lives by draining blood from the veins ofthousands of Apexans yearly!"
The Americans' faces whitened. "What do you mean?" breathed Ward.
"I mean that the artificial blood pumped by mechanical hearts throughthe brains of the Heads--yes, and that is now being pumped through myown!" cried Spiro bitterly--"is manufactured from human blood. Humanblood is the basis of it. And to get that blood every Apexan mustyield his quota in the temple. Slowly but surely this practice issapping the vitality of the race. But though the Apexans realized thisthey were afraid to speak against the custom. For the Heads wereworshipped as gods; and when the gods spoke, blasphemersdied--horribly."
* * * * *
Miles and Ward shuddered.
"Even I," went on Spiro, "denounced blasphemers and thought it holythat each should yield a little of his blood to the Almighty Ones.Then I woke from darkness to find myself--a Head. At first I could notunderstand, for I was in love with Ah-eeda--and can a machine mate?But it is true that love is largely desire, and desire of the body.With the death of the body, desire died; and it may be that pride andambition took its place. But, for all that, there were moments when Iremembered my lost manhood and dreamed of Ah-eeda. Yes, though thelaboratory of the Heads revealed wonders of which I had never dreamed,though I looked into your world and studied its languages and history,though I was worshipped as a god and endless life stretched ahead ofme--nevertheless, I could see that the strength of my race was beingsapped, its virility lost!"
His voice broke. "In the face of such knowledge what were immortalityand power? Could they compensate for one hour of life and love ashumanity lived it? So I brooded. Then one day in the temple I lookedinto the face of a girl about to be bled and recognized Ah-eeda. Inthat moment, hatred of the fiends posing as gods and draining thevitality of deluded worshippers, crystallized and drove me to action.So it was I who denounced the Heads, aroused the people!" Spiro'svoice broke; died. Miles and Ward stared at him, horrified; and aftera while Miles exclaimed, "We never suspected! We would never havefought to maintain such a thing had we known!"
"Nonetheless," said Spiro inflexibly, "you fought for it, and manypeople died and more are afraid. Superstition is a hard thing to kill.Already there are those who murmur that truly the Heads are gods andhave called up demons from the underworld, as they threatened theywould, to smite them with thunder until once more they yield blood inthe temple. But I know that without blood the Heads must diemiserably and the people be freed from their vampire existence. It istrue that I too shall die, but that is nothing. I die gladly.Therefore, to keep the people from sacrificing blood, to show themthat you are mortal and the Heads powerless to save the demons theyhave raised, you must be slain in front of the great palace.
"Yes; you, too, must die for the people!"
* * * * *
Bound and helpless, lying on their backs and staring into the gloom ofthe small chamber into which they had been thrown, Miles and Ward hadtime to ponder their desperate situation. Spiro was delaying theirdeath until the workers of Apex would have time to gather and witnessit. At first they had struggled to loosen their bonds, but suchefforts served only to tighten them. Then they had tried the trick ofrolling together so that the fingers of one might endeavor to undo theknots securing the other. On a memorable occasion in Turkey they hadfreed themselves in this manner. But the attempts proved fruitlessnow. The floor of the chamber was smooth, nor could they find anyrough projection on which to saw the cords.
Exhausted, they finally desisted. The same thought was in both minds:Were they doomed to die in this strange world, fated never to seeEarth again? Well, a soldier of fortune must expect to meet withreverses. Still, it was a tough break. After a long silence Ward said,"How were we to know that the heads lived on the blood of the people?"
"Would it have made any difference if we had known?" asked Miles.
"Perhaps not." Ward tried to shrug his shoulders. "After all, we havefought to maintain systems not much better. There is littledifference, save in degree, between draining the life-blood of a raceand robbing it of the fruits of its labor."
"But sometimes we fought to liberate people," protested Miles.
"Yes, I like to think of that. It's good to have something to ourcredit when we cash in. And it looks," he said pessimistically, "as ifour time to do so has come."
* * * * *
They ceased talking. Time passed cheerlessly. Finally both of themfell into a heavy slumber from which they were aroused by the suddenflashing in their eyes of a bright light, bright only in comparisonwith the former intense darkness. "What's that!" cried Ward, startled.
"S-sh," said a soft voice warningly, and when their eyes becameaccustomed to the illumination, they were amazed to perceive theslender form of a young girl carrying a torch. She was marvelouslylovely to look at, with her blue-black hair brushed straight back froma low, broad forehead and her smooth skin as dark as that of anEgyptian. Nor was she dressed unlike pictures Miles had seen of peopleof ancient Egypt. The embroidered plates covering the small breastsshone and glittered; bracelets and bangles flashed on bare arms andshapely ankles; while from the waist to below the knees was a skirt ofrich material. On the small feet were sandals of intricate design.Besides the torch, the girl carried a slim, gleaming knife, and for amoment the adventurers were guilty of imagining she had come to slaythem where they lay. But her manner quickly dispelled their fear.Sinking on her knees beside them, she said, "Do not be afraid; Ah-eedawill not harm you."
* * * * *
So this was Ah-eeda, the girl of whom Spiro had spoken. Miles and Warddevoured her loveliness with their eyes; her coming flooded theirbosoms with renewed hope. She continued s
peaking. Her English was notat all fluent, and she was often compelled to make it clear withexpressions in her own tongue and with explanatory gestures. But toMiles and Ward, who knew nothing of temple training, her speakingEnglish at all was a miracle.
"Is it true that you are men from another world?"
"Yes."
"And you came to make the people give their blood to the Heads?"
"No, that is not true. We were in ignorance of what it was we foughtfor. Had we known the truth we would have refused to fight for theHeads."
"Then, if I were to set you free, you would go back to your own worldand not fight my people any more?"
They nodded vigorously.
"Oh, I am so glad," exclaimed the girl; "I did not want to see youdie!" She looked at Miles as she