"The Soul Empty Ones" - читать интересную книгу автора (Miller Walter M)

"You think this will frighten our captors, android?"
"No, they will laugh. But when the time comes, the thought will be in their mindsЧand perhaps we can change it to fear."
The man nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose it can do no harm. We'll keep you informed about the fire's progress. If the wind doesn't change, it should burn quickly toward the valley."
The man departed, and Falon lay back upon the cot to think of Ea in the throne room. He had no doubt of her fate. When the king was finished with her, she would be assigned to the android pen for fattening. He had given her over into the sensual hands of the invader, and he resolved to atone for it by sheer recklessness when the time came for action. If the gods watched, then perhaps his own blood would pay for whatever she was suffering.
But another thought occupied his mind. The soul-man had called him "brother"Чand the memory of the word lingered. It blended with the death-chant which Ea had sung for Daher when he went to die in the manner of his tribeЧ"The Song of the Soul-Empty Ones." "Brother," the man had said. Did one call an animal "brother"? Yet the man knew he was an android.
Several old men moved about in the stockade. Apparently their duties were to "keep house" for the younger laborers. Falon wondered about the women. None were visible. Perhaps they had been left upon the invaders' world. Or perhaps the invaders had other plans for women.
Soon he heard the sound of distant shouting from the direction of the city, but could make no sense of it. Apparently, however, the workmen were setting up a cry that rescue was imminent. If only they would come to believe it themselves!
The hypodermic injection was taking effect. He felt a ravenous hunger that made his stomach tighten into a knot of pain. A horri-
fying thought struck him suddenly, and he shouted to the men in the yard at the stockade. One of them approached him slowly.
"Tell me, soul-man," Falon breathed. "What sort of food do the invaders bring you? Is there anyЧmeat?"
The man stiffened and turned away. "Once they brought us meat, android. Three men ate of it. We saw that the three met with ... uh, fatal accidents. Since then, the Mars-Lords have brought us only fish and greens."
He moved away, his back rigid with insult. Falon tried to call an apology after him, but could find no words.
The sunlight was growing gloomy with the smoke of the forest fires, but the wind had died. Falon prayed that it would not reverse itself and come out of the east.
He examined his chains and found the sleeve which fastened them to the cot was loose. The soul-men had evidently pried it slightly open. Then he found that the bolts which fastened the cot legs to the concrete floor had been worked free, then returned to their places. They could be extracted with a slight tug, the plate unscrewed, and the sleeve slipped off the leg. But he left them in place, lest a guard come. Beneath the cot was a dusty sheet of steel which evidently covered the tunnel's mouth.
When a guard brought food, Falon devoured it before the creature left his cell and begged for more.
"You will be fat indeed, android," chuckled the Martian.
Toward sunset, a clamor in the courtyard told him that the soul-men were being returned to the stockade. The light had grown forge-red, and the air was acrid with faint-smoke smell. The man, who was called Penult, came again to Falon's cell.
"The smoke obscures our vision, android," he said. "The Mars-Lords have sent a patrol to police the edge of the hills, but we can longer see them." He frowned. "The lords seem worried about something. They scuttle about chattering among them-selves, and they listen secretly to their radios."
"Radios?"
"The voices with which they speak to the patrol. I think they are preparing to send others. Helicopters are taking off, but the smoke must choke their visibility. What can be happening?"
"The tribes are attacking, of course," lied Falon. He noticed that the wind had arisen again. It was sweeping the smoke along in the downdrafts from the foothills.
"What are your plans, android?" asked Penult. Several othershad gathered behind him, but he hissed them away lest they attract the suspicion of the watchtowers.
"Wait until the invaders become desperate and send too many on their patrols. Then we shall rise up against the ones that re-main."
"Be we have no weapons."
"We have surprise. We have fear. We have your tunnel. And we must have lightning swiftness. If you can gain access to their skyboats, can you destroy them or fly them?"
Penult shook his head doubtfully. "We will discuss it among ourselves. I will see what the others wish to do." He moved away.

Dusk fell. Lights flickered on from the watchtowers, bathing the stockade in smoky brilliance. The courtyard was thronging with soul-men who wandered freely about their common barracks. Beyond the wall of the man pen, the evening was filled with angry and anxious sounds as the Mars-Lords readied more patrols for battle.
Falon knew that if they remained about the city, they would be safe. But the first patrol had undoubtedly been engulfed in the tide of wild dogs that swept from the forests. Their weapons would be ineffective in the blanket of smoke that settled about them. And the gaunt dog packs would be crazed by fear of the fire. Thousands of the brutes had rolled out across the plain, and the small patrol had been taken by surprise. The horsemen would come last. They would wait until the dogs had gone before they fled the fires. Perhaps they would arrive in time to see the dogs devouring the bodies of their gods. Perhaps then they would attack.
Penult stopped at Falon's cell. "We have managed to contact the android pen," he said. "In a few moments they will start a riot within their stockade, to distract the watchtower guards. Be ready to unlock the door."
"Good, Soul-Penult! Pick us a dozen good men to rush the towers when we come from the tunnel. Let them go first, and I will be with them."
Penult shrugged. "It is as good a way to die as any."
Falon tugged the bolts from the floor, and slipped the chain's sleeve from the leg of his cot. The manacles were still fastened to his ankles and wrists, but he decided that they might make good weapons.
One of the searchlights winked away from the courtyard. Falon
watched its hazy beam stab toward the opposite end of the city. Then he heard dim sounds of distant shouting. The riot had begun. Other lights followed the first, leaving the man pen illuminated only by the floods about the walls.
Quickly he slipped from his cot and moved to the door. A soul-man sidled in front of his cell to block the view from the towers while Falon twisted the key in the lock. Then he pushed the cot aside. A man came to help him move the steel plate. They pushed it away noiselessly, and the tunnel's mouth yawned beneath them. The cell was filling with men while the guard's eyes were distracted toward the android pen.
"We are all here, android," a voice whispered.
Falon glanced doubtfully toward the courtyard. The men were thronging near the cell, kicking up dust to obscure the tower's vision. Evidently they had not seen; for Falon was certain that the invaders would not hesitate to blister the entire group with their flamethrowers if they suspected escape. Already there were sounds of explosions from the other end of the city. Perhaps they were massacring the inhabitants of the other pen. He thought grimly of Ea.
A man had lowered himself into the tunnel. Falon followed him quickly, to be swallowed by damp and cramped blackness. They proceeded on their hands and knees.
Falon called back over his shoulder. "Tell the others to wait for us to emerge before they enter."
"They're setting the barracks and the stockade walls on fire, android," hissed the man behind him. "It will provide another distraction."
It was a long crawl from the stockade to the center of the city. He thought grimly of the possibility that the tunnel would be discovered by guards coming to quench the barracks fire. The small party might emerge into the very arms of the waiting Mars-Lords.
The tunnel was not made for comfort, and Falon's chains hindered his progress. He became entangled frequently, and bruised his kneecaps as he tripped over them. There was no room to turn around. If guards met them at the exit there could be no retreat.
The lead man stopped suddenly. "We're here!" he hissed. "Help me hoist the slab of rock, android."
Falon lay upon his back and pressed his feet against the ceiling.It moved upward. A slit of dim light appeared. The soul-man peered outside, then fell back with a whimper of fright.
"A guard!" he gasped. "Not a dozen feet away! He's watching the man pen."
Falon cursed softly and lowered the lid of the exit. "Did he see the stone move?" he asked.
"NO! But he seemed to hear it."
Suddenly there was a dull thumping sound from overhead. The guard was stomping on the stone slab, listening to its hollowness.
With an angry growl, Falon tensed his legs, then heaved. The stone opened upward, carrying the guard off balance. He fell with the slab across his leg, and his shriek was but another sound in the general melee as Falon burst upon him and kicked his weapon aside. The Martian, still shrieking, fumbled at something in his belt. Falon kicked him to death before he brought it into play.