Chapter 5

On the Zoolian scout craft high above the mysterious red planet, Dawn Beaumont was about to undergo a shocking transformation of her own.

The scout ship had entered orbit above the dust ball planet the Earthlings called Mars less than a day after Dawn’s abduction. The crew had been ordered by the Warmaster Ffrroogg to render aid to the scout that had been assigned to the planet. Their craft had been damaged in a windstorm, and two crew were lost in the ruined city they had been surveying.

“Of course, that one was unlucky,” Captain Torg growled, “It was led by Kull, an accursed fool if there ever was one.”

“He’s of the Warmaster’s brood. So instead of letting them die for the betterment of the fleet we have to save their useless hides,” Trog said.

A thought came to Gort then. “We cannot let Kull or his brothers see the human female. He will demand to possess her and make her a gift to his great grandsire.”

“Perhaps we should let them have her,” Trog said, “it has fallen ill and would make a poor gift for Ffrroogg. It would make Kull look bad.”

Grot trilled out a low note. “We should try and make her well again.”

Trog clicked rapidly in mirth. “There are plenty more where she came from, Grot. And when the fleet arrives every Zoolian will have a dozen human females!”

In the hold, Dawn was sleeping fitfully inside the cube. She had a terrible fever, and her body ached all over. Dawn couldn’t lay still as the sores on her arms and legs itched and wept. She stared at the ceiling through the transparent green glass, and the world spun. Dawn shut her eyes to block out the swaying world.

“Miss Beaumont.”

Dawn opened her eyes. She cocked her head, looking for the source of the voice, which was very high, like a little girl’s.

“Oh no. I’m having one of those fever dreams aren’t I.” Dawn moaned and shut her eyes.

“No, my dear but you are dying.”

“What?”

Dawn made the mistake of sitting up too fast and opening her eyes at the same time. The world tumbled, and Dawn got sick on the floor. A wiper popped out of the wall, wiped away the bile, and disappeared. Dawn wiped her mouth with her hand and looked around slowly.

Her confusion deepened as she saw that the cube no longer seemed to be on the ship. Through the transparent walls, she saw many colored stones surrounding her, the rock faintly luminous. Dawn turned her head slowly, trying to find the source of the voice.

Dawn gasped and covered her mouth, staring at the apparition before her. It was just a head. A creature’s head with four eyes, two on either side of its tiny nose, a surprisingly large mouth with full lips, a round forehead, and long tapering ears. It had an almost translucent jade green complexion, with faint blue veins visible beneath the skin.

“W—What are you?”

Dawn was backing away, half crawling towards the wall away from the ghostly head. She looked around for something to defend herself with in case this thing should turn hostile, except there was nothing in the room except for the cot joined to the floor.

“I am what you might call a courier. I am here with a message from my master and depending on your answer I will bring you to him.” said the ghostly head.

“A message?” Dawn’s back was against the wall, and it felt oddly chill. Usually, the specimen container was warm and slightly humid.

“Yes, darling,” the floating head said, “He would like to know if you would be open to a proposal.”

Dawn slowly stood and itched at a weeping sore. Her voice was very small. “Can he help me?”

“Yes, my master is very wise.”

Dawn straightened and squared her shoulders. “Then what answer could I give? Bring me to him.”

The head did a sort of pirouette in the air, and Dawn could hear a tinkling of bells coming from a great distance.

“Wonderful! I will transport us to his chambers and he can tell you everything himself.”

She saw herself floating several inches above the floor after her feet left the smooth floor. As the walls around her stretched and expanded, they faded away into an unseen distance. The head had promised to transport her to the chamber of the mysterious figure, and it seemed like it was doing precisely that. Dawn now stood in a tunnel of colored stones. She descended, and her feet contacted the cool stone that soothed her aching joints.

The head drifted closer to Dawn, and the sound of tiny bells grew subtly clearer.

“Turn around, love,” the creature said.

Dawn turned, and she gasped in amazement. Dawn now stood in a vast hall with a vaulted ceiling that disappeared in shadow. The glowing stones on the floor were arranged in an intricate pattern that seemed to move with a life of its own. Gold, green, and blue shone from the stones in repeating patterns that spoke of some musical or rhythmic scheme. The hall led to a raised dais upon which was a sparkling crystal throne, and a man was on that throne. Or at least it seemed to be a man.

Dawn, feeling more than a little like Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz, slowly approached the figure on the throne. As she drew nearer, she could see more of the being’s features.

He, or it, was tall and thin and robed in a cape of gold. Its arms rested in its lap, ending not in hands but large circular pads. Its face was much like that of the courier thing that had brought her here, four eyes on either side of a small nose, a wide mouth with full lips. It differed in that this face was ancient and deeply wrinkled, the skin opaque. Its long, pointed ears stretched, and the tips almost touched above its high-domed skull.

The base of the throne and the top step of the dais were taller than Dawn, so she looked up at her unusual host. Not quite sure of herself, Dawn bowed and grimaced as a wave of nausea gripped her.