Planet of Dread

by Dwight V. Swain

Out of the murk, the dim figure of a burly man hurried towards them. "Thank the gods, you've come!"

Craig could see Bukal stiffen. "Why? Is there trouble?"

"Is there anything but trouble?" the other shot back, hoarse-voiced. "Someone betrayed your contact man to the Lady Vydys when she arrived back from Torneulan this morning. He died by her own hand in the torture chambers."

Bukal cursed. "Did he talk?"

"Would I be here if he had?" the burly man snarled back. He scrubbed his palms on the front of his loose Baemae tabard. "The others are waiting for me to bring the word of your coming."

"Then get them!"

The burly man vanished into the shadows.

Bukal pivoted back to his helpers. "Hurry! Unlash the saucers!"

In seconds, the cargo of discs was spread out. Already, more men from the estate shuffled from the grove's blackness.

Then the burly man, too, returned. "All here," he grunted.