Priestess of the Flame

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by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from Astounding Stories June 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  "_Be still! The power of Liane is absolute here!_"]

  Priestess of the Flame

  By Sewell Peaslee Wright

  * * * * *

  [Sidenote: Commander John Hanson recounts the extraordinary story ofLiane, Priestess of the Flame.]

  I have been rather amused by the protests which have come to meregarding the "disparaging" comments I have made, in previous tales ofthe Special Patrol Service, regarding women. The rather surprisingthing about it is that the larger proportion of these have come frommen. Young men, of course.

  Now, as a matter of fact, a careful search has failed to reveal to meany very uncomplimentary remarks. I have suggested, I believe, thatwomen have, in my experience, shown a sad lack of ability tounderstand mechanical contrivances. Perhaps I have pictured some fewof them as frivolous and shallow. If I have been unfair, I wish now tomake humble apology.

  I am not, as some of my correspondents have indicated, a bitter oldman, who cannot remember his youth. I remember it very well indeed,else these tales would not be forthcoming. And women have their greatand proper place, even in a man's universe.

  Some day, perhaps, the mood will seize me to write of my own loveaffair. That surprises you? You smile to think that old John Hanson,lately a commander of the Special Patrol Service, now retired, shouldhave had a love affair? Well, 'twas many years ago, before these eyeslost their fire, and before these brown, skinny hands wearied asquickly as they weary now....

  But I have known many women--good women and bad; great women and womenof small souls; kindly women, and women fierce as wild bears arefierce. Divinity has dealt lavishly with women; has given them anemotional range far greater than man's. They can sink to depthsunknown to masculinity; they can rise to heights of love and sacrificebefore which man can only stand with reverently bowed head and marvel.

  This is a story of a woman--one of those no man could know and notremember. I make no apologies for her; I pay her no homage. I recordonly a not inaccurate account of an adventure of my youth, in whichshe played a part; I leave to you the task of judging her.

  * * * * *

  We were some three days out from Base, as I recall it, on a missionwhich promised a welcome interlude in a monotonous sequence of routinepatrols. I was commander then of the _Ertak_, one of the crack shipsof the Service, and assisted by the finest group of officers, Ibelieve, that any man ever had under him.

  I was standing a watch in the navigating room with Hendricks, myjunior officer, when Correy brought us the amazing news.

  Correy was my first officer, a square-jawed fighting man if one everbreathed, a man of action, such as these effete times do not produce.His eyes were fairly blazing as he came into the room, and hisgenerous mouth was narrowed into a grim line.

  "What's up, Mr. Correy?" I asked apprehensively. "Trouble aboard?"

  "Plenty of it, sir!" he snapped. "A stowaway!"

  "A stowaway?" I repeated wonderingly. A new experience, but hardlycause for Correy's obvious anger. "Well, send him below, and tell Miroto put him to work--the hardest work he can find. We'll make him--"

  "_Him?_" blurted Correy. "If it were a him it wouldn't be so bad, sir.But it's a _she_!"

  * * * * *

  To understand the full effect of the statement, you'd have to besteeped in the traditions of the Service. Women are seldom permittedon board a ship of the Service; despite their many admirablequalities, women play the very devil with discipline. And here werewe, three days out from Base on a tour of duty which promised morethan a little excitement, with a female stowaway on board!

  I felt my own mouth set grimly.

  "Where is she, Mr. Correy?" I asked quietly.

  "In my quarters, under guard. It was my watch below, as you know, sir.I entered my stateroom, figuring on catching forty winks, and thereshe was, seated in my big chair, smiling at me.

  "Well, for a second I couldn't speak. I just stared at her, and shekept smiling back at me. 'What are you doing here?' I managed to askher, at last. 'Do you know where you are?'

  "'I'll talk to your commanding officer,' she told me, cool as youplease. 'Will you bring him, please?'

  "'You'll see him plenty soon enough,' I snapped at her, getting overmy surprise somewhat by that time. I called in a couple of men to keepher from getting into mischief, and reported to you. What are yourorders, sir?"

  I hesitated a second, wondering. From Correy's account, she must be arather remarkable person.

  "Bring her up here, if you will, Mr. Correy. I'd like to see herbefore we put her in the brig." The brig, I might explain, was a smallroom well forward, where members of the crew were confined fordiscipline.

  "Right, sir!" It seemed to me that there was a peculiar twinkle inCorrey's eyes as he went out, and I wondered about it while we waitedfor him to return with the prisoner.

  "What an infernal nuisance, sir!" complained Hendricks, looking upfrom his glowing charts. "We'll be the laughing-stock of the Serviceif this leaks out!"

  "_When_ it leaks out," I corrected him glumly. I'd already thought ofthe unpleasant outcome he mentioned. "I'll have to report it, ofcourse, and the whole Service will know about it. We'll just have togrin and make the most of it, I guess." There was still anotherpossibility which I didn't mention: the silver-sleeves at Base wouldvery likely call me on the carpet for permitting such a thing tohappen. A commander was supposed to be responsible for everything thathappened; no excuses available in the Service as it was in those days.

  * * * * *

  I scowled forbiddingly as I heard Correy open the door; at least Icould make her very sorry she had selected the _Ertak_ for heradventure. I am afraid, however, that it was a startled, rather than ascowling face to which she lifted her eyes.

  "This is the stowaway, sir," said Correy briskly, closing the door. Hewas watching my face, and I saw, now, the reason for the twinkle inhis eye when I mentioned placing the stowaway in the brig.

  The woman was startlingly beautiful; one of the most beautiful women Ihave ever seen, and I have roamed the outer limits of space, and seenthe women of many worlds. Hendricks, standing behind me, gaspedaudibly as his eyes fell upon her.

  The stowaway was regally tall and exquisitely modeled. Her hair wasthe color of pale morning sunlight on Earth; her eyes an amazing blue,the equal of which I have never seen.

  She was beautiful, but not coldly so. Despite her imperious bearing,there was something seductive about the soft curves of her beautifulbody; something to rouse the pulses of a man in the langour of herintensely blue eyes, and the full, sensuous lips, scarlet as a smearof fresh blood.

  "So this is the stowaway," I said, trying to keep my voice coollyindifferent. "What is your name?"

  "I should prefer," she replied, speaking the universal language with asibilant accent that was very fascinating, "to speak with youprivately."

  "You will speak with me," I informed her crisply, "in the presence ofthese officers. I repeat: what is your name?"

  She smiled faintly, her eyes compelling mine.

  "I am called Liane," she said. "Chief Priestess of the Flame. Motherof Life. Giver of Death. I believe my name and position are notunknown to you, Commander Hanson?"

  * * * * *

  Known to me? If Base was not in error--and for all their faults, thesilver-sleeves are seldom wrong in matters of this sort--this womanwas the reason for our present mission.

  "They are known to me," I admitted. "They do not explain, however,your presence here."


  "And yet they should," protested Liane gently. "I was taken from myown people by those who had no right to command me. I was subjected tothe indignity of questioning by many men. I have merely taken thesimplest and quickest way of returning to my own people."

  "You know, then, our destination?"

  "I was informed of that by those who questioned me," nodded Liane."Then, since I had been assured I was an honored guest, and noprisoner, I secreted myself aboard the ship, hiding in a small roomnearly filled with what I took to be spare parts. I had provisions,and a few personal belongings. When I felt sufficient time had elapsedto make a return improbable, I donned attire more fitting than themasculine workman's guise in which I had secreted myself,