But immediately he saw he was wrong. Yarnith looked at him in puzzlement. "Escape ... how can that be? This is our world, and where could we go?"
Ric knew, then, that these people knew little of Gorak's plans. They were probably unaware of the secret air-lock leading from their hollow world! Not for three generations had a Phobian set foot on the barren outer surface. Gorak was using them as pawns in his insatiable plan.
Again Ric looked about him. Their cart was half-filled now, and they were moving toward a group of rough stone buildings that apparently served as barracks. Yarnith whispered, "Be alert, Earthman!"
Ric was puzzled, but stayed with them. They rounded a corner of one of the buildings, out of sight of the other workers. Then Yarnith acted quickly. He burrowed deep into the cart, came up with a small leather pouch; then as the other Phobians gathered 'round, he portioned out the contents.
Ric thought he recognized the brownish stuff. The dread eishn stems, a powerful narcotic. He'd encountered it once on Venus.
"It helps," Yarnith explained. "It combats the fatigue, builds up a cellular resistance and re-activates the blood stream. But we don't have much of it here, and—"
One of the men gave a warning cry. Ric whirled, saw another group of Phobians appear around the corner of the building. Their dull eyes took on a glint as they saw the eishn stems. Some of the newcomers carried crude knives. Then they were rushing forward, and Ric found himself battling beside Yarnith and the others, battling for his life.
He lashed out as two of the Phobians converged upon him. His fist caught one of them, the man's face lost contour and his frail body sailed backward. The other went down from a blow to the body. Then a dozen of them were upon him, hands tearing at his arms and throat, and Ric felt himself going down. He fought back, using fists and knees now. The dread lethargy of this place was gone from him. He was feeling the first joy of battle against odds.
Soon he was clear, using his Earth strength to advantage. He rolled aside as a knife flashed toward him, grazing his cheek. He gained his feet. Yarnith and the others were fighting against overwhelming odds. He saw Yarnith seize a fallen knife, and two Phobians went down with blood gushing from their throats.
The very silence lent an unreality. Ric was everywhere now, unleashing sledgehammer fists that cut a path through the attackers. He evaded the slashing knives, seized one of the Phobians and hurled him bodily.