He bent his flabby body over the face plate and tried to make out the face he saw inside it. And he gasped aloud. “It is Rockson! I knew that the giant mountain man’s presence indicated that his leader, Rockson, had to be nearby. But he’s dead! Remarkable! And sad . . .” Zhabnov stood up and seemed about to shed a tear. “I had so hoped to find and torture Rockson! So sad that he is dead!” His officers stood uneasily, awaiting orders. “But . . . what a strange coffin . . .” Zhabnov felt along the lid. It was cold, colder by far than the cavern itself. And all those wires, all that electrical cabling feeding into the coffin. Could it be that it was some kind of suspended-animation chamber? Could it be that his luck was great this day? Could it be that Rockson was not dead? Zhabnov swung around and looked at the small band of little men and women that had been rounded up. “Who knows about this box? Who is a physician among these little shits?” The older elf in the white lab-smock seemed to shuffle a bit on his little red slippers, and Zhabnov smiled.
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