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.This time the deaththat you escape would have been extremely painful.""The answer is NO!" shouted Grimes."Are you sure? As I have already said, we have watched you.We haveobserved that you were physically stimulated by many of the morepicturesque punishments meted out to members of the opposite sex.Youreally hate women, Grimes, don't you? Soon, very soon, you will be giventhe opportunity to do something about it.And I warn you that if you fail togive satisfaction, if you refuse to take up the torturer's tools or if youaccord the subjects the privilege of a too quick release, you will be giveninstruction in the techniques required for the infliction of a long-protractedpassing-instruction from which you will not benefit as you will not surviveit."The red glow in the screen contracted to a single bright point, an evil star,then winked out.And what would he do, Grimes asked himself, when it came to the crunch?What could he do? If failure to comply would mean only a quick death thechoice would be a simple one-but he remembered vividly, too vividly, thatwretch who had been skinned alive and that other one slowly roasting overthe sizzling coals.Then they came for him.The four guards hustled him through what seemed like miles of corridors,cuffing him when he hesitated, prodding his naked back with the hardmuzzles of their stunguns.They brought him into a large room, a sort oftheatre in the round with the tiered seats already occupied by the audience.Over these the lighting was dim but Grimes could see men and women-andthe inevitable Shaara.The stage was brightly lit by a single light spherehanging above it.It was a set, and the other members of the cast wereready and waiting, there was a rack.There were two St.Andrew's crosses.There was a box, a sort of oven, glowing redly, from which protruded thewooden-handled ends of the hot irons.There was a table with an array ofknives, large and small, straight and curved, gleaming evilly.On the rack was Fenella Pruin.She looked at him.He looked at her.Shewas trying hard not to show her fear but it would have been impossible forone in her situation not to be hopelessly afraid.Strapped to one cross wasDarleen, to the other was Shirl.Grimes remembered the show that he hadwatched with Fenella, the make-believe torturings of the women on therack and the crucifixes.He remembered the fat man who had wanted totake her to see the real thing.He wondered if that swine were among theseghoulish spectators.An amplified voice was speaking."Gentlebeings, the stars of the entertainment that we are about to witness are already known to each other.The man making his debut as anapprentice torturer is an offplanet spy who was apprehended by our securityforces.He is being given the opportunity to redeem himself.The lady onthe rack is his fellow agent.She will be punished for her crimes againstsociety.The two ladies draped so attractively on their crosses abetted theman in his defiance of authority.Perhaps some of you were present on thatoccasion in the Colosseum.They will learn that it is unwise to transferallegiances.Unfortunately for them it will be the last lesson of their lives.""Cut the cackle!" screamed Fenella Pruin defiantly."I would order you gagged," the unseen announcer went on, "but that woulddisappoint our customers, to whom shrieks and pitiful pleas for mercy arethe universe's finest music."And now, Grimes, may I remind you that the show must go on? And soon,very soon.If there is too much hesitation on your part one of ourexperienced tormentors will usurp your star role and yours, although in analmost as important part, will be for one performance only."You see your working tools.The rack, the hot irons, the knives.You canuse them in any order you please.Your original accomplice has stretchedthe truth so often that it would, perhaps, be an act of poetic justice if youstretched her.Or you might prefer to make a start on your more recentacquaintances, working on the principle of last in, first out.May I make asuggestion.Perhaps, during your early training in the use of variousweapons, you became an expert knife thrower? And the young ladies comefrom a world whose inhabitants are experts in the use of thrown weapons.They would appreciate being dispatched that way.But do not make ittoo fast, Grimes.You know what the consequences to you will be if you do.Just try to lop off an ear here, a nipple there.Aiming between their legsyou could slice their labia quite painfully."Or I could use a knife on myself, thought Grimes.But that wouldn't be anyhelp to the women.Or I could kill one of them before the stunguns got me.But which one?Shirl was staring hard at him.She seemed to be trying to tell himsomething.She looked from him to the knives on the table, then up to thebright overhead light, screwing up her eyes exaggeratedly, then back tohim.Grimes was no telepath but perhaps she was.Perhaps she was anunusually strong transmitter.There were glimmerings, only glimmerings, inhis mind.Throwing weapons.Nocturnal vision, so often possessed bythose of Terran but non-human ancestry, such as the Morrowvians.(Hedid not know what was the racial origin of the people of New Alice but hehad his suspicions.)There was a chance, he decided.There was a chance for a quick death for the four of them-and a chance thatthey would not go to the grave unaccompanied.But what of his own nocturnal vision? A sudden plunge into almostdarkness would leave him as blind as the proverbial bat, and without the bat's sonar.But he had been trained to work in the dark, by feel, whennecessary.As long as he had directions and distances fixed firmly in hismind."We are waiting, Grimes," said the voice."Make up your mind.The choice issimple-torturer or torturee.And by being noble you won't help your ladyfriends.Perhaps a countdown will help you.Ten.Nine."Grimes walked slowly to the table, picked up a short knife in his left hand [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.This time the deaththat you escape would have been extremely painful.""The answer is NO!" shouted Grimes."Are you sure? As I have already said, we have watched you.We haveobserved that you were physically stimulated by many of the morepicturesque punishments meted out to members of the opposite sex.Youreally hate women, Grimes, don't you? Soon, very soon, you will be giventhe opportunity to do something about it.And I warn you that if you fail togive satisfaction, if you refuse to take up the torturer's tools or if youaccord the subjects the privilege of a too quick release, you will be giveninstruction in the techniques required for the infliction of a long-protractedpassing-instruction from which you will not benefit as you will not surviveit."The red glow in the screen contracted to a single bright point, an evil star,then winked out.And what would he do, Grimes asked himself, when it came to the crunch?What could he do? If failure to comply would mean only a quick death thechoice would be a simple one-but he remembered vividly, too vividly, thatwretch who had been skinned alive and that other one slowly roasting overthe sizzling coals.Then they came for him.The four guards hustled him through what seemed like miles of corridors,cuffing him when he hesitated, prodding his naked back with the hardmuzzles of their stunguns.They brought him into a large room, a sort oftheatre in the round with the tiered seats already occupied by the audience.Over these the lighting was dim but Grimes could see men and women-andthe inevitable Shaara.The stage was brightly lit by a single light spherehanging above it.It was a set, and the other members of the cast wereready and waiting, there was a rack.There were two St.Andrew's crosses.There was a box, a sort of oven, glowing redly, from which protruded thewooden-handled ends of the hot irons.There was a table with an array ofknives, large and small, straight and curved, gleaming evilly.On the rack was Fenella Pruin.She looked at him.He looked at her.Shewas trying hard not to show her fear but it would have been impossible forone in her situation not to be hopelessly afraid.Strapped to one cross wasDarleen, to the other was Shirl.Grimes remembered the show that he hadwatched with Fenella, the make-believe torturings of the women on therack and the crucifixes.He remembered the fat man who had wanted totake her to see the real thing.He wondered if that swine were among theseghoulish spectators.An amplified voice was speaking."Gentlebeings, the stars of the entertainment that we are about to witness are already known to each other.The man making his debut as anapprentice torturer is an offplanet spy who was apprehended by our securityforces.He is being given the opportunity to redeem himself.The lady onthe rack is his fellow agent.She will be punished for her crimes againstsociety.The two ladies draped so attractively on their crosses abetted theman in his defiance of authority.Perhaps some of you were present on thatoccasion in the Colosseum.They will learn that it is unwise to transferallegiances.Unfortunately for them it will be the last lesson of their lives.""Cut the cackle!" screamed Fenella Pruin defiantly."I would order you gagged," the unseen announcer went on, "but that woulddisappoint our customers, to whom shrieks and pitiful pleas for mercy arethe universe's finest music."And now, Grimes, may I remind you that the show must go on? And soon,very soon.If there is too much hesitation on your part one of ourexperienced tormentors will usurp your star role and yours, although in analmost as important part, will be for one performance only."You see your working tools.The rack, the hot irons, the knives.You canuse them in any order you please.Your original accomplice has stretchedthe truth so often that it would, perhaps, be an act of poetic justice if youstretched her.Or you might prefer to make a start on your more recentacquaintances, working on the principle of last in, first out.May I make asuggestion.Perhaps, during your early training in the use of variousweapons, you became an expert knife thrower? And the young ladies comefrom a world whose inhabitants are experts in the use of thrown weapons.They would appreciate being dispatched that way.But do not make ittoo fast, Grimes.You know what the consequences to you will be if you do.Just try to lop off an ear here, a nipple there.Aiming between their legsyou could slice their labia quite painfully."Or I could use a knife on myself, thought Grimes.But that wouldn't be anyhelp to the women.Or I could kill one of them before the stunguns got me.But which one?Shirl was staring hard at him.She seemed to be trying to tell himsomething.She looked from him to the knives on the table, then up to thebright overhead light, screwing up her eyes exaggeratedly, then back tohim.Grimes was no telepath but perhaps she was.Perhaps she was anunusually strong transmitter.There were glimmerings, only glimmerings, inhis mind.Throwing weapons.Nocturnal vision, so often possessed bythose of Terran but non-human ancestry, such as the Morrowvians.(Hedid not know what was the racial origin of the people of New Alice but hehad his suspicions.)There was a chance, he decided.There was a chance for a quick death for the four of them-and a chance thatthey would not go to the grave unaccompanied.But what of his own nocturnal vision? A sudden plunge into almostdarkness would leave him as blind as the proverbial bat, and without the bat's sonar.But he had been trained to work in the dark, by feel, whennecessary.As long as he had directions and distances fixed firmly in hismind."We are waiting, Grimes," said the voice."Make up your mind.The choice issimple-torturer or torturee.And by being noble you won't help your ladyfriends.Perhaps a countdown will help you.Ten.Nine."Grimes walked slowly to the table, picked up a short knife in his left hand [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]