Stalemate In Space
By CHARLES L. HARNESS
Two mighty metal globes clung in a murderous
death-struggle, lashing out with flames of poison.
Yet deep in their twisted, radioactive wreckage
the main battle raged—where a girl swayed
sensuously before her conqueror's mocking eyes.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1949.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
At first there was only the voice, a monotonous murmur in her ears.
"Die now—die now—die now—"
Evelyn Kane awoke, breathing slowly and painfully. The top of the cubicle was bulging inward on her chest, and it seemed likely that a rib or two was broken. How long ago? Years? Minutes? She had no way of knowing. Her slender right hand found the oxygen valve and turned it. For a long while she lay, hurting and breathing helplessly.
"Die now—die now—die now—"
The votron had awakened her with its heart-breaking code message, and it was her duty to carry out its command. Nine years after the great battle globes had crunched together the mentors had sealed her in this tiny cell, dormant, unwaking, to be livened only when it was certain her countrymen had either definitely won—or lost.