From its back, a ladder of some flexible material snaked down and men
began descending. The first were mandrakes in the uniform of the
Satheri, all carrying weapons with evil-looking blades or sharp
stickers.
The last man off was Bork. He came toward Hanson and Nema with a broad
grin on his face. "Greetings, Dave Hanson. You do manage to survive,
don't you? And my little virgin sister, without whose flight I might not
have found you. Well, come along. The roc's growing impatient!"
VIII
The great roc's hard-drumming wings set up a constant sound of rushing
air and the distance flowed behind them. There was the rush of wind all
around them, but on the bird's back they were in an area where
everything seemed calm. Only when Hanson looked over toward the ground
was he fully conscious of the speed they were making. From the height,
he could see where the sun had landed. It was sinking slowly into the
earth, lying in a great fused hole. For miles around, smaller drops of
the three-mile-diameter sun had spattered and were etching deeper holes
in the pitted landscape.
Then they began passing over desolate country, scoured by winds, gloomy
from the angry, glaring clouds above. Once, two bodies went hurtling
upwards toward the great gaps in the sky.
"Those risings were from men who were no worshippers of the egg's
hatching," Bork commented.
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