ment looking at her. In his
hands he held two lengths of golden chain. A great silence fell over
the watching prisoners in the cells, every eye glued on the priest and
this beautiful girl.

Then a great roar of anger arose as the priest reached out and whipped
Doree's gown from her body. She stood naked in the center of the pit.

Mike went mad. With a roar he turned and hurled himself upon Mertaan.

The latter, even though sharply alert for attack, was not quick enough
to get his weapon into action against Mike's lightning rush. Mike
closed with him and they went down.

The Baserite was probably the stronger of the two, but his strength
was no match for Mike's demoniacal rage. His hands went around the
Baserite's throat. "Must I kill you?" he snarled, "or will you give me
the key?"

There was no fear in Mertaan's expression but now, under pressure of
Mike's steel fingers, it changed. He appeared to be listening for his
own death.

But not for his death. He tore frantically at Mike's fists and got a
few words past them. "Listen--listen, man! Can't you hear them? The
ships are coming over! The time is now!"

Mike could not understand the words but the meaning got through to him
as a high whining sound transcended the roar of the prisoners. And
Mike realized the roar had not been caused by the priest's unveiling
of Doree's beautiful body, but by the whine from above. The prisoners
knew that the moment had come and they were already pouring from the
cells.

Mike sprang to his feet and lifted the Baserite. The latter snatched
the key from his jacket and unlocked the front cell-gate. Mike went
through first to find himself packed into a plunging, screaming mob.

Here and there he spotted a Baserite frantically trying to establish
some sort of order in the ranks of the prisoners. But they remained a
snarling, bloodthirsty wave of disorganized vengeance. Mike tore his
way savagely through the pack with Nicko and M'Landa close behind him.

"We've got to get down first!" he yelled. "She'll be killed in the
rush!" Even now, below them, the panicked priests were knocking each
other down in their rush for the exits.

Nicko pushed forward. "Let me go first! I'll make way!"

And he did. He flexed his scales until each one stood out from his
ugly body like a razor-edged knife. Then he charged the mob. Blood
splashed until Nicko was a great red smear. Those he hit screamed in
pain and fell back, leaving an avenue down whi