Apocalyptic fiction; Regression (Civilization) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Sex role -- Fiction; United States -- Fiction; War stories
He waddled away, a lecherous ball of dough in gold armor. He joined at
a little distance a group of invaders huddled over a strange, shining
box. From this emanated fine bars of soft god-metal. There was brief
conversation between Grensu and the workers, then one of the yellow
dwarfs nodded and pressed down a standing lever.
There rose a startled cry from the captive Jinnia tribeswomen. For a
crackling wave of thunder rolled about the camp; arcing out from the
two arms of the magic box came an invisible something that sent dust
flying as it scratched a mysterious circle about the entire village.
At the opposite end of this circle the two racing walls of invisibility
met; there was a concussive echo and a blinding flash. Somewhere high
above came the rare pain-cry of a buzzard; as the Women watched, the
sheered hinder half of a bird-of-prey plummeted to the ground, fell
with a thud, lay there flopping and bleeding--already dead!
Lora cried, "Walls without bricks!" and Meg looked at the guard
incredulously.
"What marvel is this, ochre toad?" she asked. "I see no beam, no ray,
yet a bird is slain."
Leekno growled, "Mind your tongue, Woman!" but he grinned. "The bird
must have been right above the circle when Togi switched on the
force-field."
"Force-field?" repeated Meg dazedly. She was not sure, now, but that
the Clan had erred in opposing these invaders. Surely men--howsoever
ugly and miscolored--who possessed magics like this must be Gods in
themselves. It might be wise to submit to them without further ado.
Then she thought of her own tribal Gods. Of stern, judicial Jarg and
smiling Tedhi. Of the ringletted Taamuz and the sorrow-eyed Ibrim
carven in eternal rock in the salt wastes so many marches from here.
No, her Gods were the true Gods....
* * * * *
"You don't know what a force-field is, eh, Woman? Well, I suppose not.
Come along, then; I'll show you. It will teach you that you can't
escape."
Leekno led the way to the spot where armed guards huddled ever the
god-box. Grensu had left; with his engineers he had gone off to some
privy conference. Beside the scratched soil which marked the barrier,
Leekno paused. His grin was mocking deviltry.
"I think, Woman," he said, "I shall let you escape. Flee now, while no
one is looking."
Meg's heart leaped in her breast as a startled fawn at the voice of a
hunter. Swiftly she breathed, "My undying thanks, yellow friend. Meg
the Priestess will never forget this--"
She sprang forward. The surrounding forest was but a few yards distant;
let her reach that leafy fastness no dwarfed invader could ever
recapture her. She would flee to a neighboring tribe, there find help
for her captured Clanswomen....
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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