It seemed deserted and bleak, coldly uninviting. There was a brief jar as Julian made contact and brought the small but almost invulnerable semi-cruiser to a partial stop. His fingers were still over the banked keys when it came with mind-shattering suddenness—a burst of intolerable light! The spacer trembled, shuddered like a living thing. Instantly the hidden depression was alive with shadow-shapes as the first shot struck home. Again the livid-orange flare blotted out the starlight with a macabre radiance, and Julian reeled against the panel. He had time for but one thought: "Hidden! Secret, eh!"
He pressed the stud and drove the "Drive" forward one quarter. The spacer reared like a mammoth stallion and plunged vertiginously into the mass of men and projectors, scattering rocks and limbs in a welter of crushed metal and torn flesh. The pandemonium of screams and explosions was drowned in the roar of the hurtling ship. The warm blood spurted out of Julian's ears and its acrid scent was in his nostrils. The momentum had carried the spacer across the entire field before Julian could bring it to a stop. Reeling with the effects of concussion he drove himself out of the wounded vessel and into the darkness of the tumbled terrain. The city was very near, he knew, even if no garish brilliance heralded it. He had to get to it.... He had to! The "plan" was complete, and even if only one small phase of the plan were defeated, the whole pattern would have to be reconstructed and the element of surprise would be lost.
And then he realized grayly that an awareness of the Plan existed. Else how explain such a reception? Violence was out in the open now. And, the Dekka had not been the one to force the issue. Still, the pressure of the thought in his mind—the overwhelming responsibility of his task—was so great, that it drove him with cyclonic power. It lent wings to his strength as he covered the distance in great leaps, and was profoundly grateful for his Jovian training. The tumult behind him receded into the distance, became indistinct. But Julian knew that transmitters would be crackling with warning. His instinctive ruse with the spacer had worked like a miracle, but he knew he could not hope to have disposed of all his attackers. They would be on his trail like bloodhounds in short order!
The darkness now was but faintly suffused with the shimmer of starlight, and great sections of the sky were blotted out. He came up against a solid barrier and realized he was in the city. Ahead loomed a vast shadow whose upthrust towers caught glimmers of faint luminescence.
"The Temple!" he breathed, and darted like a hunted animal into the silent sanctuary. He didn't deceive himself that he would be inviolate, although that was the law; but it was a respite. Time to get his bearings in the damnable city of darkness and tortuous ways.
Once within the lofty nave of the temple, Julian took swift stock of his surroundings. It was illuminated with surpassing skill, soothing, caressing almost. But it suddenly struck him that the perfection of the workmanship had a double purpose—it served primarily to mask the impregnability of the place. It was a veritable fortress instantly convertible if the need arose. It had been built to withstand a siege!
Ahead of him was a lofty, jewel-encrusted altar. But no idol was enthroned there. No inscription even. Only the raging inferno of a miniature atomic-vortex held under control by some unknown means and enclosed in a transparent substance which he rightly judged to be an illusion, and was a field of force, in reality. There seemed to be no exit anywhere, except the entrance through which he had come. Julian had suddenly come to the end.
He searched like a trapped creature, his whole being convulsed by the urgency of his will, while the tumult of the chase drew nearer and nearer with desperate urgency he explored the altar. "Surely," he reasoned, "there must be some way the priests of the temple reach the nave!" With frantic fingers he explored the gemmed surfaces, driving his mind to intuit the logical means of ingress not to speak egress. The chromatic shimmer of the gems blurred and merged together, formed curiously fantastic patterns, as his senses reeled through the after-effects of concussion. Imperceptibly almost, his probing fingers felt a slight projection on a flat surface. With a swift, jabbing motion he pushed in, and a circular section the size of a small coin slid to one side. There was a thin metallic ring beneath. He twisted it, and the whole section large enough for a stooping man to enter swung silently inward. He hesitated briefly gazing into the dark aperture. He could already hear clearly the shouted commands of his pursuers, as the troops deployed into the branching streets. He entered and the aperture closed.