THE LAND BEYOND THE FLAME
By EVELYN GOLDSTEIN
Beyond the Flame Barrier lay knowledge of
the Originals. Long it stretched from horizon
to horizon, a thin stream of living light; a
thin path of peril for Allyn the Numan.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories May 1954.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
At his back, the jagged rocks rose and fused into wild hills. Beforehim stretched the Graysand Desert, cruel with heat and treacheroussands. And, shrill in the fiery air, came the squeals of the rat pack.
Giant carnivores, shaggy and foul-breathed, their wicked claws couldtear a man fleshless. Fetid poison lay in the bite from their sharpyellow teeth, and those teeth were bared now in raging anticipation.
They were on the kill! Hunger in their voices and lust. And their graybodies, a pollution on the landscape, surged after a desperate prey.
What did they pursue? Allyn strained to see.
An Olman!
The sun blazed on the sweat of the mighty chest heaving with exertion.Like all the males of that savage group he was naked, save for aloincloth, and his bronzed corded arms swung in tempo with his pumpingfeet. With each step, he left a bloody trail which spurred the rats tofurther frenzy.
The blood loss told! He fell! But, even as he went down, he spun onhis back, teeth bared, and the burning wind carried his fierce yell ofdefiance.
The rodents went mad with triumph. They leapt for the kill.
Without thinking Allyn brought his flame gun from its holster. Lancesof bright death seared the gray ranks. Squeals died. The rats swervedfrom the fallen man, scattered. Retreat was a panic stampede. And soontheir shrilling faded in the distance.
The prone man twisted to hands and knees to face his rescuer. Hope wasbright in his eyes. But then he saw Allyn. Elation became horror.
"Numan!" It was a despairing cry. Then he fainted.
Allyn hastened across the gray sands. Hefting the unconscious man tohis shoulders he staggered toward the rocks. In a crevice, sheltered bya natural ledge, he deposited his burden, and set about examining thegashed thigh. The wound was more painful than serious, and he ripped astrip from the lining of his cloak to bind it tight and stop the bloodflow. He had barely finished when the young savage stirred.
Allyn tensed, watchful, flame gun ready. He saw the dark eyes open,not sleepy, but with full awareness, as with a wild beast. The wellconditioned muscles tightened.
"Don't move!" Allyn aimed the gun.
The prone man froze. He well knew the power of the weapon. The tautmuscles did not relax, but remained arrested, waiting for one unguardedinstant to spring at the other's throat.
"Don't be alarmed," the Numan reassured, "I won't hurt you."
No sign that the other heard. But in the rigid muscles, distrust wasplain.
"Try getting up—but slowly. You've lost a lot of blood."
The Olman rose with easy grace. As he did he noticed the dressing onhis leg, and wild hate flamed his face.
"Why didn't you let the rats finish me! It would have been cleaner thandeath in your experimental camps."
"I didn't save you for the camps. You're free to return to yourkinsmen."
The youth stared. "I never heard of mercy from a Numan," he saidsuspiciously. "A twenty-year-old like me would last a long time in thehands of the vivisectionists of your people."
Pain furrowed Ally