The primate had turned a bit sullen and, rubbing its throat, shuffled off to one side out of the way. The assistant trainer stood in its place and indicated that the yellow-man should begin.
Well, I've seen some looks of savage anticipation in my time but the look that came over that yellow-man beat them all. They had probably found him in some Domestic Police cell charged with murder or he wouldn't be here at Spiteos. He had probably suffered what he thought was injustice and bad treatment – rightly so at Spiteos. And herewas his chance!
He sprang on that assistant trainer like a ferocious beast!
With an animal snarl he slammed his arm around the trainer's neck. Gripping his own wrist with his other hand, he began to apply the pressure!
There was murder in the yellow-man's eyes, hate in the roars which went past his bared teeth. I expected at any instant to hear the trainer's neck snap. He could not cry out.
The racket in the place was such that no one else seemed to be paying any attention. Maybe this sort of thing was too usual in these acts. I was certain the yellow-man was going to chalk up a new murder right that instant. My eye caught a movement to the side of them.
Heller had not caught the ring with his heels. He front-flipped to land on his feet.
In a flash of motion, Heller was close by the fight!
He reached down, almost unconcerned, and with a thumb and forefinger put a clamp on the giant's elbow! It is an ordinary release defense action, it produces considerable pain and paralysis, though how Heller knew what points to touch on a yellow-man – who is made differently – I do not know.
The roar of the giant turned to a screech!
He let go of the trainer like the trainer had gone red hot. He whirled to rear up against Heller!
Heller quietly kicked the giant in the back of the head with his toe. It was not a lethal kick. The yellow-man flopped forward, out cold.
The trainer was struggling up. Heller gave him a hand. The fellow couldn't talk yet but thanks was on his face.
I couldn't hear what Heller was saying but he was being solicitous about the trainer's neck and was rubbing it for him. The primate then got up and came over to them and – it made both the trainer and Heller laugh-solemnly shook Heller's hand. Actually it was very funny for one doesn't expect apes to know much. I laughed myself – and it was the last laugh I had that day!
The trainer went over and got an electric whip. The giant was still out cold. Heller saw that it was under control and apparently decided that was all the exercise he was going to do today. He picked up his exercise suit top and slipped into it. Then he trotted across the room, threw a kiss to the Countess Krak and left the hall.
Knowing the guards outside would be hard on Heller's heels and that he was just going up to bathe and dress anyway, I lingered on a bit, my eyes on the Countess. Therewas my enemy, therewas the one stalling this mission.
She had had some minor success training the trainer but it was almost as if she had been waiting for Heller to leave. And, if I had been about to follow, I would have stopped because here she came, walking through the noisy hall toward me.
Well, I must say the guard Timyjo exercised good taste in his stealing. Or maybe Heller had specified it. But the Countess Krak was certainly gorgeous in her new turnout.
She was wearing brand-new, hip-length shimmering boots, black with gleaming brass heels. She had on flesh-colored tights and wore a tight, waist-length jacket of black leather and spangles. On her head, as a crown to her neck-length yellow hair, she wore a little visored hat, smaller at the top than around her head: it was glittering with black discs and it had a little plume upright at the center front. It was a costume patterned on the clothes she used to wear but oh what a new and expensive difference!
And she was beautiful. There is no arguing with that. She was fabulously, magnificently beautiful. My enemy. She sat down in a big chair across from me, her back to the room. She turned her perfectly formed face toward me.
"Soltan," she said, "you've got to help me!" And there were tears trembling in her eyes!
A little alarm bell started going off in my head. Was this the cold, emotionless Countess Krak? What new ploy was this? I have never trusted women and I certainly tripled that for the Countess Krak.
"Soltan," she continued, "Jettero has done the English. He has the New England and Virginia accents down perfectly. I even went off into slang and mannerisms and he has those. I have gotten him through Earth geography and geology. He has a grasp of political structures and demography for the planet. He has reviewed the peculiarities of the Solar System. . . ." One tear fell and coursed down her smooth cheek. Almost a wail came out of her. "Soltan, I have run out of things to teach him!" Oho and aha! I thought. And you're running out of ways to stall his departure!
"Soltan, can't you get me permission to teach him espionage? He will be in danger if he does not know that. And I don't think he has the basics of it." Lady, I thought, that is the understatement of all time.
"Countess," I said, hoping I didn't sound as smug and lofty as I felt, "Lombar gave very definite instructions about that."
"But why, Soltan, why? He'll be in danger if he doesn't understand a key subject like that!" And another tear spilled out.
"Lombar has his reasons," I said. For some reason I suddenly felt sick. "And Lombar's reasons are always good ones. I think he simply wants Heller to be more natural. You know how real special agents act: darting about, peering under garbage can lids, sure to draw attention to themselves. Right now Lombar could kill us both for what I'm permitting. It's really a very simple mission, just introducing a little technology onto the planet. ..." My attention was suddenly drawn to something happening behind her.
The giant had recovered. The assistant trainer was not to be seen. But the yellow-man was walking toward us. He was rubbing his elbow. He looked very annoyed. I felt a surge of fear.
The Countess was trying to think of some way to persuade me. She did not alert to the fact that I was staring at the giant. Maybe I was not being obvious. Maybe there was a tiny trace of hope that this murdering brute of a yellow-man now walking up behind her would kill her and solve all my problems. She was unarmed. I studiously kept my hands away from any of my own weapons.
She was sitting down. She was out of position. There was even a chair arm in her way if she tried to rise swiftly. The giant came on, rubbing his elbow, aggrieved, unnoticed by anyone but me. He stopped right behind her. From the look of him he was going to kill her. My hopes rose.
She was about to speak to me again, a pleading look on her face.
The yellow-man let go of his elbow and cuffed her shoulder hard!
He roared at her, "You keep that (bleepard) Heller away from me or I'll break his (bleeping) neck!" She swivelled in the chair and looked up at his towering height.
She snapped, "Don't you dare talk about Jettero that way!"' There was a hiss of indrawn breath from fifty people. The hall went tomb-silent instantly.
The giant slowly raised his arms to seize and strangle her. His voice was grating and every word held death. "I'll say anything about him I please! He's just a Devils (bleeped) Royal officer! A snotty, rotten, stuck-up (bleep)!" The arms came down.
Her face had gone white.
Her hand flashed to the back of her chair and it went spinning away!
She was over to his right!
There was a sound like a shot. I hadn't even seen her hand move but his left wrist was broken, dangling!
And then began a Devil's dance I shall not want to watch again.
This was no emotionless statue. This was a live ball of raging fury!