 CHAPTER VIII. LAST OF THE RULANS They then fed and attired in dry clothing provided by Dantor. The earthmen and Rulan maiden were much refreshed and hardened when, together, they finally faced the aged scientist in the laboratory of the secret apartment. He hadn't allowed them to talk as yet. Blain glanced at the ragged opening where the stone door had been blown away. We're safe from intrusion here, he asked. Dantor shrugged expressive shoulders. The Trituanu is empty of life, he said. A sepulcher. Those of our people who were not completely disintegrated lie blackened corpses in the chambers and corridors overhead. The gas grenades, you know. The guards went to Ionido with Farley and reported you dead, lost in the jungle from which none return. Farley, Blain shouted. He is alive? A wild hope sprang into being, intensified to a certainty as Dantor nodded. Why, yes, I thought you knew. They captured him very soon after the escape, but were unable to find you and Ulana. Ionido has mechanized him. He is in a hypnotic state of complete subjection to the dictator. A quantity of K-metal has been taken to the laboratory at the breach of the Great Rocket Tube, and Farley now works there with Ionido's crew, initiating them into the mysteries of the metal's uses. Things look very bad. Blain lost his elation over the knowledge that his friend was alive. Tom, he was doomed anyway. They were all doomed. Why did you bring us back? he asked, turning away. Blain felt it was better to have died in the jungle than to face this certainty of lingering torture. Ionido had triumphed. The universe was fated for utter annihilation, and Ulana would suffer for weeks, perhaps months, before the final swift dissolution. Understanding, Dantor smiled gravely. My boy, he said, we still live, and while we live there is hope. That is the reason I brought you back. Tidus' message came to me as his spirit left the body, and I made haste to come here as soon as the Tsar released me, and I knew the cost was clear. What hope can there be? Appalled by the enormity of the disaster that threatened the solar system, certain of the ultimate fate that would be meted out to Tom Farley, and convinced of their own helplessness, Blain was gloomily unenthusiastic. That remains to be seen, Carson. I confess it seems impossible of remedy, but the situation must be faced and studied carefully. Insignificant as we are in the vastness of the cosmos, we may yet prove to be the ones to circumvent the mad plans of the Lota, and prevent the catastrophe which is inevitable if they succeed. We must not give up while we still breathe. The indomitable spirit of the old scientist glistened in his keen eyes, and he stepped to the controls of the crystal sphere. He will not give up, Odantor. Ulana exclaimed loyally. He is with us to the end. Do I speak truth, my Carson? Her arm slipped through his, and he thrilled anew at her fragrant nearness. Give up! Never! Not with Ulana to fight for! Blain nodded wordless agreement, silenced by the expression of Odantor's face as the crystal vibrated to a musically throbbing note. There in the crystal ball was pictured a vast underground workshop, somewhat like the one in the Great Dome through which they had entered the copper-clad world. In place of the telescope there was the butt of a gigantic cannon-like tube that towered and was lost in the shadows of the vaulted chamber. Tom Farley, moving jerkily and staring with glazed unseen eyes, was working there with a cube of glittering K-metal. In the open breach block of the tube was a heaped-up cone of dry soil, the material they would disintegrate in producing the blast of electronic forces. Blain groaned as his friend called for the equivalent of a milligram of radium. Though his voice was listless and his movements uncertain, Tommy knew what he was doing, and was giving away the secret. Powerless to resist the command Eonito had implanted in his completely subjective mind. Ah! Danter breathed! Progressive annihilation of energy, a thing we never have accomplished. You cite ordinary materials such as this dry soil by means of atoms exploded from this K-metal, which is in turn excited by ordinary radium that can be used over and over as the primary excitant. Am I correct? You are. There are precise ratios of atomic weights to be considered, of course, but it looks as if my friend is being extremely accurate in spite of his dazed condition. Man alive! There is enough material there to provide power for the entire planet Venus for a month! And enough to start Antrid from her orbit, Danter returned. Enough to send her on her fatal journey sunward? Only for the first acceleration, a vast amount of energy is needed. Carson, since the gravitational attraction of the planet you call Jupiter is enormous. Antrid will be speeded up in its orbit and the increased centrifugal force will cause it to take up a new and larger orbit where the forces will equalize. Several charges will be required in order to free her entirely from the mother body. There's time, then, Blaine exclaimed excitedly. What can we do to put a stop to the thing? Something to counteract this control by Ionito, to cause Tommy to err in his proportions. Yes, that would do it, temporarily at least, Danter agreed, his brow wrinkled in thought. And there are the invisible cloaks. It is a bare chance, if you want to take it. I can show you the way to this underground laboratory, and in invisibility. You might even be able to change the ratios yourself. Yes, yes, it's a very good idea. The scientist brightened with renewed hope. Of course I'll chance it. When do I start? Danter grinned in appreciation, and Ylona looked up at him starry-eyed. I'm going with you, she stated simply. Not on your life. There'll be danger. I won't have it. Nevertheless I'm going. There's another cloak and besides the danger would be greater if I were alone. Where you go I go, and if you die I die with you, gladly. She twined her fingers with his, and gazed at him, appealingly. Danter, this can't be. He turned to the scientist for support. The aged scientist studied the two a little while, and then said quietly, I'm afraid it is better as she wishes, Carson. I'm unable to protect her, my boy, and there's no one else who might give her shelter. We are the last of the Rulons, she and I, the very last. Oh! Ylona moaned, pale and distraught. All, all are gone? All, my dear, in his rage the dictator destroyed the Tritoudinu, and the Tritou Rehortou, when he had finished here. Those were the last settlements remaining, you know. We alone are left behind, Ylona. Danter bowed his head, and the girl sobbed silently. Good heavens! Blaine Carson was aghast at the revelation. A monstrous deed! This last one of Vianitos. He was a fit master of a world gone mad. A monster in the twisted semblance of human form. He will be searching for you, oh Danter, the girl said, with sudden conviction. She had mastered her emotions and was instantly alert to every angle of the situation. That is true, said the old man gravely. For myself I have nothing to fear, of course. Though insanely jealous of my accomplishments, he maintains an armed truce with me. He dares not do otherwise as the Supreme Council is aware of his shortcomings, and cognizant of my superior knowledge of science. But there is danger to you too. You must make haste. A trembling of the ground beneath them, Lent added emphasis to his final words. A quick glance into the crystal told them that the initial charge was at work in the huge rocket tube. The laboratory there at its base was in confusion indescribable. The workmen running hither and yawn in the effort to escape the terrific heat that radiated from the red hot breach of the tube. They jammed the exits in their anxiety to be anywhere but near this monster source of energy, whose pulsating roar drowned out all other sounds in the vast chamber. Already Antrid was exhilarating in the velocity. Her vitals were wretched and twisted, groaning in protest. Quick now! Blaine was adjusting one of the invisible cloaks for Ilana. He'd have to take her with him. A silent prayer for her safety was on his lips. Invisible now, and hand in hand, they followed Danter through the deserted passageways to the lift which carried them quickly to the roof. A drumming sound came to their ears as they stood there looking up into the blackness above the blue-white lights of Antrid. Vibrating to the tremendous roar of the rocket tube, the copper shell emitted a constantly increasing reverberation that was like a long-drawn peel of thunder on earth or Venus. It was awe-inspiring. That's onerous bombillation. Defining. Danter was fumbling with the mechanisms of the remote control which Tidus had used in returning the basket-lift to the car that had brought the two earthmen from Illendar. Again and again he returned to his manipulations after peering anxiously upward. But the basket did not respond to the call. They were marooned atop the empty shell of the Trituanu. Carson, Ilana, where are you? The aged scientist shouted above the den, his face a tragic mask, his lips compressed with anxiety and disappointment. They grasped him to reassure him, each taking a hand. Carson placing his lips close to the old man's ear, inquired anxiously, what's the trouble? The car does not respond. Something has happened to the motors, probably on account of the vibration. I can do nothing. And then, piercingly through the thunderings of the copper shell, a voice broke in, Ianido's voice. Danter, it shrieked, at last I have found you. I need your help immediately. Wait there for the monorail. Danter gripped them tightly to enjoy silence. Ianido had located the scientist with the searching ray and was still watching and listening at his crystal. He seemed not to know that Blaine and Ilana were there. Very well, O Ianido, I shall wait, Danter shouted. It is good. There is important work to be done. Ianido's words trailed off into the maelstrom of sound that swirled about them. He's cut off, the scientist yelled. There is but one chance now. You must come with me, depending on absolute silence and your cloaks to deceive them. It is the only way. Ilana clung to him there in the terrifying bedlam, and Blaine's finger strayed to the comforting bud of the ray-pistol. Whatever happened there were a few changes left, blasts of energy that would serve at least to postpone the end for Ilana, or, if worse came to worst. The sudden rush of a monorail car high overhead interrupted his thoughts. Close to me now, Danter shouted, but have a careless one of them touch you and discover. A cable-hung cage dropped swiftly to the roof and they crowded in beside the scientist. Quickly it whisked them aloft to the higher plain. In the monorail car Blaine held the girl close, and they trod softly as they dodged the guard at the porthole and stepped into the passenger compartment. Two of Ianido's technical experts were there and a crew of at least a dozen of the green-bronze giants. Unseen by any, the couple tiptoed to the farthest corner of the compartment and took seats in a recessed section. With a quick jerk and the rising wine of the motors, the suspended vehicle started back in the direction of Ilandar. In Ernest's conversation with Ianido's engineers, Danter effected an air of nonchalance that was artfully disarming. The Lotus suspected nothing as the car continued on its way. And then there came an ominous grinding sound from underneath the very seat occupied by the invisible fugitives. A puff of dense black smoke followed and Ylana coughs basmodically, uncontrollably. They were coming now, two of the green-bronze ones, to investigate. There was no escape from this narrow space. And Ylana was gone. She had slipped from his grasp in the coughing fit and he could not find her with his wildly searching hands. Another be-trained cough over there. The green-bronze ones were between them. He saw one of them draw back in amazement, then clenches fingers and twist. The ripping sound of torn material followed, and the girl's head and startled face appeared, floating there, unsupported, her body and limbs yet invisible. But they'd found her. She was lost. Quickly stripping the protecting cloak from her body, the green-bronze one held the struggling girl gingerly but with a grip of iron. His eyes bulged from their sockets, and the other guards staggered backward with hands outstretched as if to ward off an evil spell that might be cast by the supernatural visitant. Blaine thrust his arm through the folds of his coat, ray-pistol in hand. A crazy laugh forced itself to his lips at sight of the detached member, stretched there, tense, drifting in mid-air. The pistol prodded Yulana's captor viciously. Hands off her. The voice behind the lone arm was snarling. Hands off or a fire. The girl slipped to the floor in a heap as the amazed guard loosened his grip. And in the same instant the blue flame spurted. He had not intended to press the release. It was useless anyway to battle the entire outfit. But the bloodlust was upon him, and a savage joy in the destruction of this beast who had already dared lay hands on Yulana, impelled him to turn on the other. Blindly he swung, clubbing the pistol and beating in the ghastly face that wobbled there upon the spineless, superstition-bound body. Others were coming then, hundreds of them it seemed. The pale face of Dantor appeared for an instant in the background, through the red haze that was blinding him. He only knew he was fighting desperately, viciously, and against impossible odds. The satisfying crunch of his left fist against a leering green bronze face was followed by an excruciating pain as one of his knuckles was driven back. Hardly knowing he had pressed the release of the ray, he was mildly astonished to see that two of the guards were enveloped in blue vapor. Sentiment tiny sunbursts within the blue. Two less of those devils. His pistol was empty and he flung it into a grinning face. He saw the blood spurt and the face-chain shape, crushed beyond human resemblance. He was down then, grasping for breath against the floor plates. The weight upon him was enormous crushing. If only they'd quit squirming so. And pounding reminded him of his old football days. Some scrimmage. Abruptly came the blackness of insensibility. Dimly at first, in the painful throbbing of returning consciousness, Blaine knew he was in one of the lot workshops where machines hummed and pounded and where many operatives were busily engaged. A cool hand stroked his aching brow and he opened his eyes. Yulana! They had spared her. Alert on the instant, he was acutely aware of the babbling of voices close at hand. Ianito was there, at the base of the huge telescope, talking with Dantor, his voice raised excitedly. The monorail crew stood by and he noted with grim satisfaction that several of them were as badly damaged as he could wish. His gaze returned to the sweet face that bent so near. Weekly he drew the golden head to his breast, held it there a moment, thinking, hoping, planning. Then he sat upon the edge of the low couch on which he had been placed, regarding her anxiously. Evidently they had not harmed her as yet. Ianito had dismissed the green bronze ones and was approaching the couch. Dantor was with him, lagging a little and pressing a finger to his lips, making his head gravely to warn them. They must not speak of the plans made in the Trituanu. Must not talk. The dictator was regarding them now with hard eyes. But it seemed almost that something of admiration or respect, something of human-like emotion, was in his cold stare. Ha! he grunted at last. These two are in love. Dantor, it is as you explained. It is good, and fits in with my plans to a nicety. I shall spare the life of the earthman on account of his knowledge of the inner planets. I can use him later. The girl I shall spare for a different reason, and that fits in with my plans as well. What did he mean by that last crack, the grinning devil? A sinister intent was there, behind a smooth talk. Blain half rose from his seat in quick anger, but the girl's gentle touch on his arm restrained him. She depended on him now, and he'd have to go easy until the proper time came. Impatuous, aren't they? Ian Edo was saying. These earthmen. A characteristic that must get them into much trouble, even in their own world. Laughing at him, this hell-bound. Blain gritted his teeth. The dictator addressed him directly. You are a fortunate young man, he drawled sarcastically. You have slain several of my trusted retainers, and by doing so have forefooted your right to life. But Ian Edo is forgiving. Mechanized, you will be of value to me when the great day comes. And it pleases me that you are so deeply attached to the Rulun maiden. It pleases me greatly. Why, Blain snapped, a great rage consuming him. Only the pressure of Yolana's fingers held him back. He would have to control his temper, or he'd make a mess of things. Because, my dear Carson, it will so displease the Zara. With this cryptic remark he turned on his heel and left them. A number of his technical experts awaited him at the eyepiece of the great telescope. Dandor whispered swiftly before following him. Keep up your courage, Carson. A way may yet be found. The group by the telescope was an excited one. Something had occurred which must be of great moment. It came to Blain in a flash that the reverberations of the copper shell of Antrid had ceased. The rocket tube was silent. I don't know why we shouldn't be in on this, he said to the girl. Let's go over there and see what it's all about. One of the astronomers was reporting to Ian Edo, referring to a sheet of calculations he held in nervous fingers. Our audible velocity has increased greatly, he was saying, and the new path lies at an average distance of 83 erds from the Mother Planet. According to my figures it will require six more charges to free us from her pole and another to redirect us toward our destination. 83 erds? Practically a million earth miles. Already they had swung out to a new orbit between those of Ganymede and Callisto. And what of the effect on the other satellites? Blain listened carefully as the astronomer continued. Perturbations in the movements of the other bodies in our own system are marked, and, in the case of the first satellite, have proved disastrous. It has commenced its inward journey and will soon have fallen into the gaseous envelope of the Mother Body. But this need occasion us no concern. It is small and there will be stabilization of the others after the second charge is fired. Colossal conceit. What amazing ignorance or oversight of natural laws. These lot scientists could see no farther than their snub noses, or at least no farther than the satellite system of Jupiter. And Ian Edo was complimenting the astronomer on his good work. The group broke up now and the dictator turned to the controls of his crystal sphere. Blain and Ylana caught the view of the underground laboratory at the base of the great rocket tube. All was as it had been when they first saw this chamber. The breach of the huge cannon had cooled and its massive block was open. Tommy was there, fishing the radium capsule from the powdery residue in order that it might be used in exciting the next charge. A mechanical precision marked his every motion. It is good, Ian Edo grunted, flicking a lever that cut off the view. We are progressing nicely, thanks to the generosity of the earth-beans in providing this K-metal. His sarcastic grin was infuriating. Dantor cast a warning look in the earth-man's direction. It wouldn't do to lock horns with this self-satisfied despot, at any rate not now. Blain's man was expressionless as he faced him. The view in the crystal was now another familiar one when Ian Edo made a quick adjustment, the throne room in the palace of the Zara. The dictator snorted when he saw that Leon was reclining lazily on her golden couch, submitting graciously to the ministrations of her handmaidens. Faithless creature, he snarled. Harlot! Parasite! But at last Ian Edo will have his revenge. The hate in his voice and in those terrible glass-hard eyes was devastating in its intensity, implacable, relentless. Yet Blain could not down the exultant feelings that came to him when he saw that this monster could suffer too. What's the matter, he sneered? Did she throw you down? He could have bitten off his tongue as he spoke. Yulana gasped. And if Ian Edo had been in a rage before, he was a madman now. Despite his contempt of the misshapen creature, Blain quailed before the murderous glare that answered his rash words. But the dictator was master of himself, at that. His lips tightened in a thin line and he held his peace. He actually smiled after a moment, the devil, a smile, though of evil triumph. He turned once more to the crystal and switched on the sound mechanism. Clione, he called in a velvety voice, it is Ian Edo. She looked up, startled. Her chalky face gone whiter still. Her jeweled fingers fluttered to the smooth throat. I hear you, she replied shakily. What do you wish of me? Not much, this time. I have visitors who request an audience with you, oh, Clione. Can you see them at once? Who—who are they? Her eyes widened at his insinuating tone. An earthman, Carson, and the Rulan maiden who is to become his mate. Ian Edo chuckled evilly as he watched her expression. Carson, she whispered, her wild eyes softening. He—he lives? Black hatred replaced the wondering joy that had glowed in her face. She was thinking of the statement regarding the Rulan maiden. Why, yes, she snapped, suddenly very much alert. I can see them. Send them immediately. The dictator chortled as he switched off the power. Dantor paled and looked away. So this was his scheme. He was sending Ulana to certain death at the hands of the leopard woman. Blame bit his lips until they bled. If only he had one of their ray pistols again. If he had— Ian Edo was at his side, whispering. But he couldn't see him. The devil had donned one of Dantor's invisible cloaks. Something hard pressed deep into his ribs. I shall be with you, the dictator told him, but she will not know. It is necessary, of course, that I watch over you in order that your deportment be suitable to the occasion. The death ray of Antrid is ready in my hands. Proceed, you and the Rulan maid, and see to it that you give her every attention while in the Tsar's presence. Dantor interposed in objection. But Ian Edo, you promised to spare them. I learned to love these two and want no harm to come their way. I keep my promise, old Dantor. Ian Edo will not harm them. But the Zara—what Cleon does is none of my concern. Silence, Dantor! I command it. You will remain here. The voice of the dictator cut like a knife. The old Rulan scientist bowed his head and turned away. Good old Dantor! He had done all in his power to help them. This was the end, not a question of doubt. Blaine Carson drew the Rulan maiden fiercely to him. This Cleon might meet some opposition, if she attempted to wreak her spite on Yulana. She would meet it. There was no need for Ian Edo to ask that he pay every attention to the lovely frightened girl who clung to him so trustingly. They were in the lift then, dropping swiftly into the palace beneath the great dome that topped Antrid. This Cleon, Yulana whispered, she has great power of enticement, my Carson. I fear for your loss to me. She will take you from me, and I shall be alone, or dead. Death would be the better. Never, said Blaine Huskley, never, my dear. She has no power over me, nor will I permit her to bring suffering to you. Ian Edo laughed then. An ugly cackle it came out of the unseen. Yulana The Zara received him in the throne room alone. Blaine hesitated as he crossed the threshold. Yulana's trembling fingers tightly clasped in his own. The quick prod of the invisible ray-pistol warned him that Ian Edo was at his heels. Cleon uncurled her sinuous, black-sheathed body, and rose to her feet as they neared the dais. Welcome, O Carson, she purred. Cleon has mourned you as dead, but she mourns no longer. A kind fate has returned you. The gold-flecked eyes were all for him. It was as if she did not see his companion. Blaine fought the spell of her with all that was in him. He did not reply. Come to me, Carson, she pleaded. Her lash is lowered. Leave this rule on, girl, and come to me. Where I go, she goes, he replied firmly. Very well, then, said the Zara meekly. Bring her with you. I would converse with her as with you. Something new this was. A gentleness Blaine had never thought the leopard woman could exhibit, even in sham. And her eyes, when she raised them, were still gentle. She extended a wide arm and smiled provocatively. If this was a ruse, if she meant harm to the rule on maid, her acting was superb. And, from what he had seen of the woman previously, he was almost convinced of her sincerity. A nature like hers was incapable of successful dissimulation. Still, he was suspicious, and he shielded Yulana with his body as they came up to the throne. The Zara studied them in silence for a while. Then she spoke. Let me look at you, my dear, she said, to the rule on maiden. And Yulana, unafraid, faced her boldly. His muscles tanced, Blaine watched every movement of the Zara's strained fingers. But her gaze was direct and kindly. There was no dissembling here. It was not the same Cleone he had previously known. You are very beautiful, Yulana, she said softly. Do you love this earthman very much? I do, Your Majesty. And you, Carson, you love her very much? His answer was wordless. A sudden lump in his throat choked back the vigorous affirmative, and he merely nodded, mute, as he enfolded the slight form of Yulana in his arms. Carson, are you sure? Cleone was pleading, her eyes compelling, tender. Yulana drew away from his arms, waiting. What had come over the leopard woman? She was a creature of mad vagaries, he knew, and yet this was the most convincing mood he had seen. Despite his knowledge of her past, despite his better judgment, he was drawn toward her. A step, then a quick revulsion of feeling. He recoiled and turned swiftly to Yulana. Cleone saw and understood. Her tender mood was over in a flash, and she crouched there, terrible jealous eyes fixed on the rule on maiden. She extended a white arm with jeweled fingers, pointing. Blaine swung quickly, brushing the arm aside, just as that intangible something flashed from her hand. The energy of the black discs. It had missed Yulana by inches, but crashed home on something. A scream of terror rang out in the chamber, and there on the floor a dozen paces from the dais, the thing that had been Ianito wriggled under a heap of warning black things that suddenly covered the invisible form. He wriggled and then lay still, as the angry buzzing of the black destroyers rose in a triumphant, discordant song. Ianito, the Tsar exclaimed, thunderstruck. He was here. He was, Blaine assured her, in an odd voice. Invisible, Ozara, in a cloak contrived by Dantor, the rule on scientist. Then blind rage came over him. She had tried to kill Yulana before his eyes. You she-devil, he roared. I have half a mind to choke the bile-life from your tainted body. Damn you! May the heat devils of Mercury burn and sear and shrivel you in everlasting torment! She cowered as if he had struck her, and unaccountably he was ashamed. Cursing her like a schoolboy and using the language of the lower-class Venarians. Please, Carson, please! she moaned. Do it. Choke me, if you will, and release me from my torment. I am yours to do with as you please. Throwing back her proud head, she bared her throat. Blaine took a step forward, his knees weak beneath him. Carson! it was Yulana, her hand soft on his arm. He drew the back of his hand across his eyes. This was madness. But was ever a woman so deserving of death? Incomprehensible, half-animal creature, she sat there rocking to and fro, waiting. No, he said. No. Only let us go in peace, Cleon. Your sins be on your own head. Your realization of them is punishment enough. Wait! Controlling herself now, she rolls once more, and her face was transfigured. Almost it seemed that she was happy. Wait! she repeated. You are free to go when I have finished, but first Cleon wishes to bid you farewell. They faced her in silent wonderment. Ianito is gone, she continued, and the Lota are helpless without him, unless I take over their leadership, in fact. He was my master, I admit. But Cleon is able to carry on with the plans he conceived, able but no longer willing. Cleon is abdicating. It but remains for you, Carson, to put a stop to this thing they are doing down there at the great rocket tube. You can do it, I am certain. Go now, and think not too badly of Cleon when you have gone. Farewell! With the quick motion she raised her fingers to her lips, then tossed a small vial crashing to the floor. Carson, she has taken something. Yulana stifled a hysterical sob as she spoke. Go to her, it's the least you can do. Blaine caught the leopard woman in his arms and lured her gently to the luxurious cushions of the throne she had occupied for so long a time, a queen in name only. Already the gold-flag dies were glazing and they begged him piteously. Kiss me! Her lips formed the words, but no sound came. Yulana was there, on her knees crying. Carson, you must! she urged him. The spirit of Cleon, with its great burden of evil and some little of good, left the beautiful body as the earthman pressed his lips to hers. An unwanted smile, placid and content, read the still features. The Zara was no more. Stunned and shaken by what they had seen, they hurried from the chamber of death. Blaine located the lift and they were quickly carried to the laboratory. Dantor was there, working with the astronomers, and Blaine drew him aside, whispering the story in his ear in swift, disjointed sentences. The aged scientist could scarcely credit his senses. The thrumming of the copper shell to the energy of the second rock-tube charge came but faintly to their ears in this place. Since the vacuum of the outer space surrounded the great dome structure. But the vibration and quakings of the satellite were transmitted to the floor-plates on which they stood. They knew that Antrid was swinging ever outward from the mother planet. You must do it alone, Dantor was saying. You and Yulana. I have no control over these lota. I am here only on sufferance of Ianito, and Ianito is no more. But they know it not. These in the dome think he is with you now, cloaked in invisibility. The tale of the cloaks has been broadcast. You are safe for the present and can descend to the base of the rocket with impunity. Ianito's name is the password, and here is a ray-pistol, fully charged, two of them. He left them in his desk. Go now, quickly. The way, how do we get there? Blaine's fingers closed lovingly over the butts of the pistols, and he thrust them in his pockets. Oh, yes. The lift. The one that carried you to the palace. Its shaft ends deep down beneath the natural surface of Antrid in a tunnel, where a moving platform will carry you to your friend. May your god and the gods of ancient Antrid be with you. Once more they were in the cage of the lift, dropping with breath-taking speed. Down into the bowels of the satellite they sped, and it seemed the shaft would never end. Then they were in the tunnel that Antrid told them about, smooth walls speeding past as the swiftly moving platform carried them on. The great arch chamber opened before them at last, and they saw that the workmen were returning to their tasks. The huge breach of the rocket tube had cooled to a dimly visible red, the second charge having done its work. Hands in his pockets and walking stiffly as if mechanized, the earthman presented himself before the guard at the entrance. Yulana pressed close to his side. He feigned the hypnotic state. The Annito, he repeated in jerky syllables, acting the part. He sent us with message, for Farley. The guard grinned. Even here the story of the earthman and the Rulan maiden was known. The strange leniency of Annito and permitting them to remain together was the topic of the day. He waved them through with an indulgent gesture. Annito knew what he was about, and would have his little joke, later. Tom Farley was there, waiting with the lot scientist till the breach block could have cooled sufficiently to permit them to open it and prepare the third charge. A flicker of recognition in his glazed eyes told Blaine he was not altogether gone, but Tommy gave no other outward sign. Perhaps with the Annito no longer live, the mental control would become ineffective. They had not long to wait, for the breach was water jacketed and cooled rapidly. Blaine pudded around with the unfamiliar test tubes and retorts, watching for a chance to get a word with Tommy in private. He was almost certain that his friend was recovering. Yulana sat there on a greasy bench, regarding the scene with anxious eyes. She was a brick, game as they made them. Tommy was beside him then, weighing a heap of the dry soil for the next charge. Are you all right? Blaine whispered. But Tom Farley stared back with not a glimmer of comprehension. He was still a victim of the mechanizing process of the Lota. With a carefully planned but seemingly careless gesture, Blaine slid back the weight on the scale arm. This charge would be short of the proper ratio of dry soil. He wondered what the effect would be. One of the lot scientists came over then with the radium capsule and Tommy attached it to the clamp that would hold it in contact with the cube of K-metal. The dry soil was shoveled into the breach block by the unsuspecting Lota and the thing was ready for the placing of the excitant. The great breach block swung home and a siren shrieked. All work in the laboratory was suspended and the workman stood around in expectant silence. Blaine found himself worrying as to the possible result of his tampering. I saw you, Tommy hissed then in his ear. There'll be hell to pay now. We gotta beat it. Good ol' Tommy! He'd recovered after all. He, too, had been chamming at the last. Blaine saw they were unobserved and thrust one of the pistols into his hand. Now, his friend rasped, before they get wise, grabbed the girl and will make a break for the tunnel entrance over there. Ylana took in the situation at a glance and was at his side. They moved swiftly in the direction of the entrance through which they had come. A terrific roar came from the base of the rocket tube and the loader broke into excited screechings. Something different about it this time. There was a terrible menacing note in the jarring thump which preceded the roar. A muffled boom high in the five-mile depth of rocks straight above them spelled disaster of an unknown and terrifying nature. The breach of the tube was white with heat in an instant of time. Pandemonium broke loose now and the earthmen were running for the exit to the lift. Covering their retreat with brannish gray pistols. Ylana, brave girl, ran alongside, swinging a pinch bar she had picked up, ready to help. End of Section 10 Section 11 of Four Science Fiction Novellas This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Four Science Fiction Novellas by Harold Vincent The Copper-clad World Chapter 11 Disaster The great crystal sphere on the central pedestal was a blaze with the scarlet warning signal of the Supreme Council. A sonorous voice from its depths boomed out above the clamor. Kill them, kill the earthmen, hit roared. The Zara is dead and Ianito is vanished. Dinari has mounted the throne. And it is he who commands you. Kill the traitors. But the Loda and the green bronze guards needed no command from the new ruler of Antrid. These devils from earth had tampered with the last rocket tube charge. Probably had caused serious damage to the tube itself. They must die. Only the guards were armed, and the Loda swarmed so closely in pursuit of the fugitives that it was impossible for them to use their ray pistols. Had the great iron gate that now closed the exit, stood the guard who had admitted them. Tommy's pistol spurred a blue flame and he was enveloped by the destroying energy. Ulana screamed as a lot grasped her, wrenching the iron bar from her hands. Blaine covered the intervening distance in a bound, and his fist crashed into the fellow's jaw, snapping back his head and lifting him off his feet. He crashed to the floor plates and inert heap, and the earthmen recovered the pinch bar. Pocketing his pistol, he swung the bar with both hands in mighty circles that took terrible toll of the Lota. They fell back before the onslaught of the infuriated terrestrial, leaving eight of their number dead or dying with crushed skulls and broken ribs and arms. Open the gate, Tommy, he shouted. Use your pistol on the lock if you have to. A guard was coming at him, and he ducked to the floor as the blue flame crackled, singeing the hair from his head, and blistering the scalp as it spent its charge infusing a cross-member from one of the steel columns nearby. He fired from under his prostate body, and the guard thrashed his arms wildly in the blue mist, then stiffened to a sparkling, vanishing figure within the dissipating vapor. A gas grenade burst at his side, and Blaine sprang to his feet, running from the spreading sulfurous cloud. The gate was open and its lock dropped molten metal. Good old Tommy! The poison gas hid them from their pursuers for the moment, and they were through the gate, all three. Get back, Blaine shouted, the gas. He held his breath and closed his eyes as he slammed the gate and wedged it with the pinch bar he still carried. That would hold them for a while. The gas was upon him, and his skin flames scorching hot from the contact. He mustn't breathe, mustn't open his eyes. He groped there in the scalding vapor blindly. Tommy had him by the wrist then, dragging him away. Ulana was calling somewhere there in the darkness. His lungs were bursting, and then he knew the air was pure and he exhaled the long-pent breath noisily and inhaled deeply. Eyes smarting and head reeling, he saw Ulana through a haze of dancing smoke wisps he knew were illusory. She was safe, thank God. They were on the moving platform then, on the return side, and his strength was returning. Narrow escape he had, from that long rotting gas. Ulana smiled happily when his vision cleared. The speeding platform carried them swiftly toward the lift that had brought them down. What if the lift would not operate? This denari might well have shut off the power or even returned the cage to the upper end of the shaft. Boy, oh boy, Tommy was saying, you sure did come up the works. Know what happened? Plenty from the look of things, Blaine smiled grimly. I'll say, you cut down the dry-soil ratio a third. Not sure of the exact reaction, but the expansion was too rapid. Explosion followed before the air could be driven from the tube. I'll bet the big cannon was wrecked somewhere overhead. Boy, what a blast! As if the last sentence were a prophecy, there came a terrific jar that twisted the platform violently from under them. They were thrown headlong and an awe-inspiring rumbling came up from the vitals of Antrid. An earthquake! The tortured satellite could not withstand the strain set up by the tremendous reactive force of the rocket tube. The light snuffed out and the platform came to a grinding stop. One of the underground power plants was out of commission, and they were trapped here in the stifling darkness. Nice fix we're in now, Tommy grunted, where he had fallen. Blaine, having located Ulana, was relieved to find that she was unharmed. Yes, he said slowly, but there is one thing sure. They can't follow us here unless they walk. Why can't we walk? Ulana asked with forced cheerfulness. It isn't far now. Oh, we can walk all right. We'll have to. And here's hoping we get somewhere. Tommy, at least, was undaunted so far. It was their only chance now. Blaine held fast to the girl as they felt their way along the smooth tunnel wall, and Tom Farley, behind them there in the darkness, kept up a running fire of small talk that was utterly irrelevant. Nothing could keep that Irishman down. After what seemed like miles of steady plotting, they glimpsed a light ahead. They quickened their pace. It was the open door at the base of the shaft, and the cage of the lift was there, fully lighted and waiting. Denari had not shut the power off after all. But, of course, it came to Blaine in a flash. This was a private shaft, used by Ianito in his candlesting visits to the Palace of the Zara, and for his own use in descending to the subsurface chamber at the base of the rocket tube. Denari did not even know it existed. Strange, they had not been followed. Surely the Loda would have forced the gate back there in a comparatively short time. A mass of falling rock, shaken loose by the trembler that cut off their light and stopped the moving platform, must have closed the tunnel. They were in the cage now, shooting a loft with smooth acceleration. Tommy fidgeted and paced the floor in the narrow confines like a caged animal. Lord man, he said after a while, what I wouldn't give for a cigarette. Is that all you can think of? Blaine was sarcastic. His own nerves were on edge. They were nearing the upper end of the shaft. Tried to do a little thinking about what is going to happen up there above Illandar. We've got to do some tall figuring and some swift scrapping before we're through. Sure, Tommy shrugged his shoulders. There'll be a lot of fireworks, I guess, but I wish I had a smoke just the same. Ulana pouted. They spoke in English and she did not understand. But the expression of their faces forced a laugh to her lips, one of those silvery tinkles that caught at Blaine's heart strings. All that mattered now was to see her to safety, and happiness. The cage slowed up and came to a rest as the automatic control of its gravity energy functioned. The door rolled back and Blaine thrust his head through the opening, pistol in hand. There on the floor of the corridor that led to the great dome room was a crumpled figure. Dantor! It couldn't be that they had slain him. Blaine was on his knees by the body, raising the blood smeared head with gentle hands. A deep gash extended from over the right temple up into the scalp and the skull was crushed, a mortal wound. But the dowdy heart of the aged scientist still beat on, weakly, but with determination. He opened his eyes and smiled. Ah! you have come at last! he sighed. I have waited here to warn you and advise you. Easy now! Blaine straightened the helpless limbs and cradled the drooping head on his knees. Ulana was beside him, bravely holding back the sobs that were in her throat. I saw, in the crystal, Dantor whispered. And Donary struck me down when I expressed relief at your escape. Carson, Ulana, Farley, you can escape if you do as I say. Antred is doomed. The incorrectly proportioned charge burst the rocket tube in several places and tore the muzzle asunder where it projected from the copper shell of our world. With the explosion of the muzzle a huge section of the copper casing was blown away and the atmosphere of Antred is now escaping rapidly into the vacuum of space. Dantor closed his eyes and a spasm of pain twisted his features. Tommy expelled a shuddering breath, solemnly expressive. The aged scientist fought off the grim specter valiantly. He patted Ulana's hand as his weak voice resumed. You will take care of her, I know, Carson. Take her with you to your own world. Make her happy. He fell silent once more. But how! Blain whispered. Oh yes, I am forgetting. The side passage. Next one on the right. It leads to a storeroom of the oxygen helmets and vacuum-tight suits in which you can step forth from the adjoining airlock. Your spaceship is there, unharmed. In it you will be able to return—hand. But Dantor's spirit had fled the pain-racked body. Blain closed his lids and stretched him on the hard metal floor, crossing the thin hands on his breast. Ulana sobbed openly for a moment and then bowed her head in silence. The last of the Rulans, Blain said softly, looking down at all that was mortal of the Rulan scientist. No, Ulana whispered. I am the last, my Carson. You'll become a good American, sweetheart, he said gently. That is, if we get away from here. There was no time to be lost at that. At any moment this denari might find them. Come, he begged, drawing her from the body, we must hurry. Following the passage indicated by Dantor, they came at last to an open door. A noticeable draft blew outward and Blain thought grimly of the scenes that were being enacted throughout Antrid. The air that made life possible was escaping. And the new broadcasts from Elendor would have notified the entire population by this time. There would be rioting, panics, murder and suicide in the cities of the accursed Lota and in their subject countries. A frantic effort of the scientists to stop the gap would avail them nothing. It was an impossible task now. The construction of the Great Shell had been a different matter. There was some natural atmosphere remaining in those days. And finally they would suffocate, every last one of them. They'd die miserably, purple of face and with swollen tongues protruding. The open door led to a railed-in balcony that looked out over the dome-room. Machines still hummed there, but the place was deserted, saved for a few scattered corpses, probably those of the Lota who had objected when Denari usurped the throne. A second door opened from the balcony into the store-room of the Moonsuits. At least these helmeted contraptions resembled the so called Moonsuits used by the inhabitants of the inhabitants of the inner planets when they visited a body having no atmosphere. Yulana needed some assistance with the bulky equipment, and then Blaine climbed into another of the suits and locked his helmet. A moment later they were in the airlock with Tommy, who had attired himself more quickly and was operating the controls. In the outer hatch they waited until the air pressure reduced to a practically complete vacuum. Their suits distended ludicrously now by the pressure within. They unclamped the hatch and stepped out onto the surface of the great copper shell. It vibrated under their feet to the blast from the huge gap that was not five miles distant. The RX-8 was there, as Dantor had said, a slim tapered cylinder that gleamed, a thing of beauty, in the reflected light of Jupiter which was now millions of miles distant. The sun was not visible and the light of the Mother Planet cast long shadows on the copper plates. Pelting ice particles clattered soundlessly against the metal helmets, frozen moisture from the escaping air of Antrid. Blaine cried out in surprise, then remembered his companions could not hear him. There were moving shadows over there, four of them, nearing the hall of the RX-8. The Loda had beat them to it. Denari, no doubt, intending to escape with a chosen few of his subjects. He broke into a run through the now blinding hailstorm. He would have to head them off, else Ulana was lost. They were all lost. End of Section XI. Section XII of Four Science Fiction novellas. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Four Science Fiction novellas by Harle Vincent. The Copperclad World Chapter XII The Last of Antrid Tommy was running beside him now and Ulana not far behind. They too had seen the danger. If they could not reach the vessel ahead of the Lota, would not fight them off and gain possession, it was all off. They'd die here, horribly on the roof of Antrid. And the ray pistols were useless. They could not be fired inside the ballooning fabric of their suits without destroying it and themselves. There were only the hooks that were attached to the bulging sleeves, iron hooks for lifting, but these were heavy and sharp pointed. They might be of some use at that. Once they were completely blinded by a deluge of ice particles, Blaine could see neither the RX-8 nor the waddling figures of the Lota. He clung to his companions by means of the hooks, interlocking his with theirs, and waited for the storm to ease off. If ever it would. Pressing the thick glass window of his helmet against that of Ulana's, he saw that her eyes were wide with terror. But she smiled bravely and nodded encouragement. What a girl! There was a momentary clearing a little way from the white wall and he saw the hull of the ship, a dim shape that loomed suddenly distinct and near. They dashed for the open port, still holding together. One of the bulging, helmeted Lota had reached the port and was crambling inside. Blaine loosed himself and pounced on him, swinging one of his hooks in a sweeping, clawing arc. It caught in the fabric of the fellow's suit, ripping a foot-long slit. Like a punctured balloon, it deflated and became a shriveled, clinging thing. The Lota hung there over the rim of the port, instantly suffocated and frozen stiff in the vacuum and intense cold of space as the air and heat of the suit was dissipated. Blaine dragged the rigid body from the opening and flung it to the white, powdered copper surface. Wheeling he saw that another of the Lota had engaged Tommy. Two of them, in fact, there were three swollen figures in that mix-up. And the fourth was advancing on a smaller figure that turned and ran. Yulana, in a flash he was after them. Tom Farley would have to look out for himself, poor devil. With two of them against him the outcome was dubious. And then came a second snow-like deluge of white particles. He stumbled on, groping blindly, slipping, sliding in the precarious footing. It was ankle-deep now that powdery carpet of ice particles. Oh God, if that lot devil got Yulana! He groaned aloud, a hideous, mournful echo in the confines of the helmet. Groping, staggering there in the white silence, he gave up hope. The white carpeted shell of antrid heaving mightily from the force of some new concussion within, and through blame scrambling. Crawling now, feeling his way over the shuttering surface, he saw a dim huddled mass there in the pelting rain of ice. Moving it was. Two bloated figures, one large and one small, rolling over and over, Yulana and the lot who had chased her. He was there in one mad scramble, and dragged the fellow from her, was astride the rubber-inflated covering, climb and tearing. The thing collapsed and went flat between his knees. He saw the mist of moisture-laden escaping air, felt the quick swelling and the jarring collapse as internal organs exploded from the atmospheric pressure inside the brute's body. Nauseated, he crawled away from the dead, grotesque-looking figure. Yulana was on her knees, endeavouring to get to her feet. She had not been harmed, thanks to his good fortune in finding them. But where was the RX-8? In the awful white silence, broken only by the eerie patter of the ice particles on helmets and fabric, all sense of direction was lost. Through the double thickness of helmet lenses he looked into Yulana's eyes, for the last time, he thought. And then the white shroud lifted once more. The ship was there, not a hundred yards distant. Tommy still battled one of the lotta, desperately circling the wary, grotesque-like bobbing figure and swinging those terrible slashing hooks. The other was down, almost covered with white. Out of the picture that one, but the remaining lot was giving his friend a tough time of it. With the girl clinging to him, their arms hooked fast. He scuttled over the treacherous, ice-powdered copper. He had to get there quickly and help. Tom farley slipped and fell heavily. The lot was on him in a flash, and they struggled madly there in splashings of white that hid them from view for a moment. Then one of them was up and the other lay still, a surprisingly shrunken and motionless figure. The victor was coming at him then, bloated arms lashing out in swift vicious circles. He had got Tommy the damn swine. Blaine met his rush with a flying tackle that brought him down crashing. He lay still, the devil, knocked out probably by the metal helmet contacting with his skull. With arm poised for that slashing swing that would have sent him into eternity, Blaine peered through the lens of his helmet. His heart stopped beating and the upraised arm fell limp. This was no lot. It was Tom farley. Good Lord, he would have killed him in another second. He tried to shake him to bring him to. But he couldn't get hold of the bulging suit anywhere without danger of slashing it with one of those hooks. What if that fall had been fatal? Yelena was at his side now and he stared at her, white-faced, trembling in his uncertainty and horror. And then Tommy opened his eyes. They saw him shake his head to clear it, and then he, too, stared in horror. How close a call! Friend, killing friend. Out here in the airless cold on the shivering shell of the dying alien world. They helped him to his feet and through the entrance manhole. His mind a whirl with emotion. Blaine saw that Yelena was inside and then followed as in a dream. He bolted the outer cover and turned the valve that would admit air to the lock. Soon they would be inside. With their protecting coverings discarded there would be the fresh air of the interior, light, warmth. Safety for Yelena. Away from the copper-clad world they'd be on their way home. A little later, Blaine Carson sat at the controls of the Rx-8, Yelena at his side. Tommy was below, polishing and oiling and fondling his beloved machines. The surface of Antrid was visible through the viewing port, 20 miles beneath them and receding rapidly. Swinging in its new orbit, Antrid was gasping its last. Over there, a few miles to the east, there spouted a column of white vapor that rolls from a heaped-up crater of ice which extended in a circle now many miles in diameter. Heavily laden with moisture as it was, the artificial atmosphere of Antrid provided a vast storm of frozen particles as it escaped into the absolute zero of space. For many days this would continue and the pressure with in would drop gradually down, down, until the air was so rare it would no longer sustain life. And there was no hope of repairing the break, the mountain of ice preventing getting at it from outside, and the rush of air from within made the handling of patch plates and brazing torches impossible. Besides, an area of supporting columns of more than a mile diameter had been wrecked by the blast of the rocket tube. It would require an earth year to make such a repair, even if they could retain that atmosphere. Antrid was done for, this time. Abruptly, Blaine turned his head from the port and gave his attention to the controls. The RX-8 pointed her nose upward, away from this terrible world of disaster and death, homeward bound. With a tremendous blast from the stern rocket tubes, she headed swiftly into the heavens. A thousand miles, five, ten, they shot into space with ever increasing acceleration. And then a blazing orb was visible off to one side of the swiftly receding globe that was Antrid. Through the floor-ports it shone, casting cheerful rays upward to the ceiling where they made a patchwork pattern of the gleaming metal. The sun, Yulana breathed, in awe. I've—I've never seen it, my Carson. It is most beautiful. He drew her to him tenderly. You'll see it every day, dear, he whispered, when we're home. Home, a wonderful thought. He had not hoped to see it again, hadn't dared to since Antaro showed his hand back there in the asteroid belt. And now it was a reality. He was going home, and with him he was taking Yulana. You—you think they will approve of me? She was saying as he sent blasts from the steering rockets to swing them around on a new course sunward. Your people, I mean. They will approve of your choice, my Carson? Anxiety showed in her wide-eyed gaze as she drew closer as if fearful of losing him. If only she knew. If only he had the words to tell her. Approve of you, he said huskily. Lord girl, they'll love you. But not as I love you. It is the biggest thing. Tommy's discreet cough came from the head of the companion-way. Blaine turned to glare savagely. His friend was standing there, grinning like an idiot and extending a paper-wrapped package. Look, he exclaimed guilessly. Cigarettes! I found them—a whole carton. Well, I'll be damned. Blaine exploded. Careful that he spoke in English. All you think of—all you've talked about since we left the vessel—is your hankering for a cigarette. For God's sake, get out of here and go smoke yourself to death. But Tommy was advancing, still grinning, still extending the package. Come on, old kid. Have one, he insisted. It'll do you good. Quiet your nerves. And his friend dropped a tantalizing eyelid. In spite of his annoyance, Blaine was forced to laugh. Oh, all right, he said, reaching for the package of smokes. I'll take one, just to please you. But beat it then, will you? Swaggering as he went and casting knowing glances over his shoulder, he was gone. Great little Irishman, Tommy. Always smiling, always there in a pinch. Never worried. He was the best friend a man could have. They'd catch hell when they got back, for losing a part of their precious cargo. Those miserly K-metal people wouldn't give them credit for salvaging nine-tenths of the stuff. Luckily only about a tenth had been removed by the Lota. They'd only cry about the amount that was lost. And Tom Farley would laugh it off, kid them out of it. Yulana was smiling as if she understood. She did understand, God bless her. She saw into this wonderful friendship and was glad. It was great to have a friend like that, and a girl like this. And in hand they gazed into the heavens before them. To the girl it was a most marvellous sight, an omen of good fortune and of happiness to come. She nestled her head into the shoulder of the earthmen as she watched, spellbound. For a long time the silence was broken, only by the steady muffled purr of the stern rocket tubes. The aroma of cigarette smoke drifted up the companionway. Out there in the heavens was the sun, Mars, Earth, Venus. The dear old solar system was still intact, undisturbed accepting for the slight perturbation in the region of Jupiter. Blame doubted if the influence was measurable in so far as changes in the motion of the inner planets were concerned. He turned the eyepiece of the telescope and swung the instrument around to bear on the earth. A cool green crescent was there in the field of vision, the eastern coastline of the Americas outline clear and distinct. Look, dear, he whispered, home. Your new home is there, our home together. She sighed happily as she gazed at the inviting sunlit outlines. Home, she repeated softly, reverently. With you, O my Carson, for all eternity. End of Section 12 Section 13 of Four Science Fiction Novellas This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Four Science Fiction Novellas by Harald Vincent Creatures of Vibration, Part 1 Car Parker sat daydreaming at the Nomads' controls. More than a week of Earth time had passed since a self-styled vagabonds of space had left Europa, and now they were fast approaching the great ring-dorb of Saturn with the intention of exploring her satellites. Behind him, his Martian friend Mado, was manipulating the mechanism of the Rulden, that remarkable European optical instrument which Ditas had installed in the vessel before they left. Mado was utterly fascinated by the machine, having spent most of his time during the voyage, searching the surfaces of Saturn's moons for signs of human habitation. Now, as they headed directly for Titan, the sixth satellite, he was completely absorbed in an examination of the heavy cloud layer that covered it. But Karr's thoughts were of his bride, who still slumbered in their stateroom amid ships. In his bachelor days, he never had imagined he could find such a contentment as had come with his marriage to Aura. He had fought shy of the fair sex on Earth. Somehow, the women he knew back home had bored him, angling for a man's money and position, most of them, and incapable of giving real love and companionship in return for the luxuries they demanded. He was resigned to a single state. But all that was changed by the little blue-eyed girl he had met in Paladar. She was a different sort, worth a hundred of those others, and fulfilling to perfection the ideal he had always set up. On her world, Jupiter satellite Europa, he had neither wealth nor influence. He'd left these behind when he deserted Earth for a life of vagabondage among the stars. But to the daughter of Detus, this lack meant less than nothing. His love and hers meant everything. And what a good sport she had been! When they were threatened by the Repadju and his minions, when they barely escaped being swallowed up by that monster of space which Meadow had likened to the Sargasso Sea of Earth, when she herself proposed joining them in their rovings throughout the universe. She was a companion of whom even the flimatic Martian was proud. She brought with her presence on the Nomad a subtle something that made of the coldly mechanical spaceship a new thing of beauty and a place of cheerfulness, a home, and to think he had won her for his own, to think. Car, Meadow's sharp exclamation startled him from his pleasant thoughts. Come here and take a look at this, the Martian demanded. His voice betrained an excitement unusual for him. Something is wrong on this satellite we're heading for. Locking the controls in the automatic position, Car turned to join his friend at the viewing-disk of the Rulden. Meadow had found an opening in the heavy cloud layer, and before them was an unobstructed view of a rugged countryside where huge boulders had been scattered by the mighty hand of creation and where the sun shone weakly on the rim of a yawning crater in which sulfurous vapors curled. They saw this strange land as from an altitude of a few hundred feet, though the Nomad was still more than a million miles from the satellite. What's wrong about that? Car grunted, accepting that it's just another of these barren and useless bodies that doesn't even provide us with an attracting interest. Wait, Meadow replied. You'll see in a moment, something. At that instant there came a puff of blue flame from out of the pit, carrying on its heated breath a drifting sheet of incandescence that fluttered and pulsated like a thing alive. Meadow switched on the sound mechanism of the Rulden, and the roaring of the pillar of flame came to their ears. There were other sounds as well, the babble of alien voices and the rumble of drums. Immediately the rough ground in the vicinity was filled with creatures of human mold, half-naked red-skinned beans that rose up from behind the boulders and rushed toward the pit of fire and the uncanny heat mantle that wandered ghost-like along its rim. Two of them carried something between them, a struggling writhing something which they stood erect at the crater's edge. It was a girl, a slim, bronzed figure that swayed there an instant, uncertainly, as the throb of the drums rose high and the voices of the assembled savages swelled in a monotony of exultant chanting. Good Lord! Carg Gasp! A Human Sacrifice! A quick push, a piercing scream immediately drowned out by the cries of the multitude, and the girl was flung headlong into the welcoming folds of the white-hot ghost mantle which hovered there like some greedy monster of the lava-pools of Mercury. The thing closed in around the wildly struggling body, enrapping it with exultant constrictions of its hell-born substance and diving, flapping, smoking heat-devil, into the flame from whence it had sprung. Mado touched a lever with quick trembling fingers and the Rulden's disc went blank. Sickened by what they had seen, the two friends stared at one another, white-faced. No place for us, Mado said after a moment, not with aura. Right! Carg agreed grimly, but I'd like to get close enough to see more of Titan. How high is this cloud-layer? About a mile above the surface, we can dive through and look them over, perhaps give them a taste of the disintegrator. Howdy, boy! You took the words out of my mouth. The devils! Who'd ever dream of such a horror in the 24th century, even out here? What's the reason for this serious discussion? The voice of Ditas broke in on them from the door of the control room. Plenty! Carg exclaimed. And the Europan listened gravely as he described the awful thing they had witnessed. I'm not surprised, he said calmly, when the terrestrial ended his recital. There are certain emanations from the Mother Planet that most certainly will affect the mentality and baser instincts of a race living within their influence. I have been studying these vibrations for several hours. They turned to the forward port as the scientist indicated the great orb of Saturn with its gleaming rings. Now, as they drew near to the enormous planet, it did indeed seem that there was a sinister quality in its shifting luminosity. Carg shivered, thinking of aura. You mean, Mato asked, that there are vibrations in the ether hereabouts that are set up electrically by the planet? Precisely. Or rather, I should say, they are set up by the vast number of whirling particles of which its encircling rings are composed. The waveform propagated is of a characteristic that is in tune with those proportions of the brain which control the savage impulses. We may certainly expect to find superstition-ridden ignorance and all manners of vice-prevalent in the races of Titan. You think these vibrations will affect us? Car inquired anxiously. Not if we make our visit short. The intensity is quite low. It will be a short visit, all right. We'll be in Titan's atmosphere in about forty minutes now. And if I have my say, we'll be out of it and away again inside of an hour. Best thing you've said to-day, Mato approved. But let's have another look at the rule then. We may find other gaps in the clouds. The mechanism of the radio telescope whirled into life as he spoke, and its disc shone bright with the reflected light of Titan as it pictured the body. The nomad was beating toward the ill-ohman satellite at the rate of more than a thousand miles a second. But the surface was nowhere visible, and Mato adjusted the focus so that the view of the billowy cloud covering fell rapidly away. Though, actually, they were approaching the satellite with tremendous velocity, it receded swiftly in the ruledon's disc until the entire body showed as a perfect sphere of uniform brilliancy. All surface markings were concealed by the blanket of clouds. Just a moment, Mato, said Ditas. I believe I saw something. The Martian pressed a button, and the image was stationary. A tiny black spot had appeared near one edge of the satellite's disc, and this now was spreading rapidly like a blot of spilled ink. Then it stretched out into a wriggling line that quickly streaked its way across the equator, completely banding the body as they watched. A moment it lay there like a great serpent encircling the globe, and then it vanished in a flash of intense light that left them blinking in amazement. It was as if a trail of gunpowder had been laid across the surface and then set off by a torch in the hand of some unseen giant of the cosmos. A strange electrical storm that agitated the cloud blanket mindily, then left it more densely closed than before. Through the forward port of the satellite could be seen with the naked eye, growing larger now and resolving itself into a tiny globe. To car it seemed that the diminutive moon winked provocatively as he turned to regard it without the ruled in zade. Off to the west, Saturn and her rings almost filled the sky, and their baleful light shone cold and menacing against the black velvet of the heavens. Meadow took the controls when the nomad entered the atmosphere of Titan and drifted over the sea of clouds. He corrected the altimeter for the mass of this body of 3,000 miles diameter, and noted that they were up about 6,000 feet. Test samples indicated that the outside air, although thin, was pure. But they did not open the ports as they had no intention of landing. Aura had not yet awakened, and car hoped fervently that she would not do so until they had left the immediate vicinity of Titan. It was vastly better if she missed seeing anything of the barbarians of the cloudy satellite. Besides, with her adventuresome and fearless nature, she'd not be satisfied merely to look on from afar. She'd want them to land. And that must not be done. Something tinkled metallically against the hull plates of the vessel. Again and again the sound was repeated, and soon they saw that the air was filled with driving particles which clattered on the thick glass of the ports, and contacted resoundingly with the hull. A vast cloud of black loomed directly ahead, springing up from the tossing cloud banks, and Meadow yanked at the controls, swerving the nomad sharply from her course. But there was no escaping the fury of that sudden squall. They were in the thick of it in an instant, and the ship was buffeted and tossed about as if it were a toy. Millions of the driving particles battered the nomad, and the den of their pounding was terrific as the ship was whirled deeper into the midst of the tempest. Car saw that the black particles were piling up around the rim of the port, sticking fast to the middle of the hull. They were bristling in fantastic array, like iron filings adhering to the poles of a magnet. In a flash it came to him that these particles were magnetic. The nomad was covered with them, and they piled on ever more thickly, soon weighing her down so heavily that she lost altitude. They were at the mercy of a furious electrical storm of mysterious nature. Imps of the canals, Mado shouted above the den, were finished. The machinery is paralyzed. This iron hail is charged. The viewing port was completely covered over now with particles that arch from rim to rim, slender rod-like things about two inches long and the thickness of heavy wire. Black they were, black as graphite. Ditas worked frantically with Mado at the useless controls, vainly endeavoring to stabilize the pitching vessel. Dazed by the suddenness of the calamity, Car turned to look at the altimeter. 5,000 feet, 4,500 feet, 4,000. Nosedown and reeling drunkenly, the nomad was diving into certain disaster on the rocky ground of Titan. He dashed from the control room, calling distractedly to Ora as he raced along the passageway. She staggered from the stateroom and into his arms, a slim boyish figure in her snug leather jacket and britches. Together they were flung violently against the partition by a heavy lurch of the vessel. What is it, she gasped, clinging to him for support. A freak storm in Titan's atmosphere, guess the nomads done for? Car drew her fiercely close as an awful picture flashed across his mind, of Ora's body mangled in twisted wreckage, of the savages finding it, down there. The metal floor plate seemed to buckle and hurl themselves aft with a grinding crash of disrupted joints. Holding desperately to the precious little body within his arms, Car was thrown off his feet. There was a detonation as if the universe had been blasted into oblivion. Then darkness and numbed silence. Car, you're hurt, Ora moaned. He was, a little. His head was splitting and the taste of blood was in his mouth, but it was nothing serious. He'd been knocked out, but his head was clearing already. A far greater importance was the fact that Ora was unharmed. He satisfied himself of that immediately. I'm all right, he grunted, struggling to his feet and feeling around in the blackness. The lights in the passage were out and he groped blindly along the partition, the metal of which had suddenly become very hot to the touch. There was a curious feeling of lightness as if his body had no weight at all. The ship rolled gently and he knew they were falling swiftly to the inevitable crash. Yet he clung fast to Ora and together they made their way to the control room. Faint daylight streamed in through the ports there and he saw Meido and Ditas, both bleeding from injuries they had received when the mysterious shock hurled them against the control mechanisms. They were working furiously with the exciter generator, which had stopped. The nomad was without power and helpless to exert her anti-gravity energy. The iron hail gasped the year-open scientist. It gave up his charge. Car exploded. Here give us a hand and see if we can get the generator started. The ports were clear of the black particles and Car saw that the outer surface of the glass was cracked and darkened from the heat of the blast. He understood, remembering the black band and the flash they had seen across the cloud layer from afar. And in the instant of remembering he saw that the ground was very near, rushing upward to meet them. A coil of the exciter armature broke away in his fingers. The thing had been burned out by the electric storm, and the nomad was doomed. The altimeter needle moved with sickening speed and already registered but little more than five hundred feet. Four hundred. Car braced himself for the impending crash and gathered Ora in his arms. And then a strange thing happened. Four light rays, dazzling in intensity, stabbed up at them from the forest beneath them and converged on the vessel's hall. The nomad staggered, then came to an even keel and slackened in her mad dash to the surface. She vibrated from stem to stern under the mighty conflict of energies and they felt themselves pressed hard against the floor plate. But the mysterious energy beams had come too late to save them. A densely wooded slope loomed directly ahead. There was a crashing of branches and the rending of mighty trunks, and the nomad came to a jarring stop. Devils of Tara, Meadow, ejaculated. We're in a fine fix now. We'll have to set foot on Titan whether we want to or not. Car had laughed, somewhat shakily, in relief. They were safe, all of them, and no one much hurt. And the generator coils could be rewound. But he sobered instantly at Meadow's words. They'd have to produce copper and insulating materials for the job. Right, he agreed, and that's not so good. What's so terrible about landing here? Aura inquired. I thought we were expecting to explore this satellite. She looked up from her ministrations to Ditas, who had a nasty scalp wound. The people here are dangerous savages, Car answered gravely. At least some of them are. We saw them in the Ruledon. You'll have to remain aboard while we look up the ones who projected those rays and do some bargaining with them. What? You expect me to hide in the vessel while you're at work outside? Not much. I want to see something of Titan while we are here. Her pretty chin was sit in that determined manner she had. I tell you it's too risky, Car was firm, but he looked at Meadow beseechingly, signalling for his support. But the Martian only grinned owishly. He knew as well as did Car that Aura would have her way. Risky, pooh! she returned. I'm not afraid. We have our pistols in the funny torpedoes you brought from Mars. Besides, I don't believe it's as bad as you think. Car shrugged his shoulders. After all, they probably would not encounter any of the savages here in the forest. Beans of far greater intelligence were responsible for those rays. That much was certain. Besides, they'd be three able-bodied men out there to watch over her, and he'd make sure she didn't get too far away from the ship. Car was the first to step from the open manhole to the soft carpet of the Titanese forest. He found the air cool and crisp, with a tang of ozone assailiners nostrils. There was a pulsating motion in it that he could hardly define. It seemed that it massaged his cheeks and raised the short hairs at the nap of his neck and on his forearms as if they were electrified. Those vibrations Ditas told him about were actively at work. The gravity was even less than on Mars, though slightly greater than that of Europa. Mado was entirely at ease, and the Europeans would not be bothered by the slight change in their weight. But Car would have to take it easy, as he'd done ever since leaving Earth. His muscles were too powerful for his body on the smaller worlds, though this was a mighty advantage if he took care not to overexert. A melodious whistling note rose high somewhere in the depths of the forest and trailed off into eerie silence. The sky was overcast with grey clouds and the light was poor, of little more than twilight intensity on Terra, this being partly due to the masking of the sun by the clouds and partly to their tremendous distance from that radiant body. Odd that it was not colder, he thought. Probably those vibratory radiations of Saturn's rings had something to do with the temperature in addition to their other effects. Didas was on his knees, examining a queer specimen of purplish moss which had drawn his eye. The eternal scientist in the man could not be drowned. Mado had come out armed with one of the bulky Calbite torpedo projectors and was looking around belligerently. Orya drew herself erect and took a deep breath as soon as her feet touched the ground, her eyes bright and her cheeks flushed with excitement. Oh, car! she breathed. It's marvellous! An honest to goodness virgin forest. We've neither of us seen one, you know. Aren't you thrilled? Well, he admitted. I've always looked forward to wandering in just such places. But with you along and thinking of those barbarians we saw. Silly! I'm as capable as any of you. And, even if I couldn't look out for myself, I know that you will be at my side. She pursed her lips and tossed back her head provocatively. What was a man to do? A deep tone-booming note came from the hills, commencing like the warning siren of a space-liner approaching its berth and swelling to a bombillation of earshattering sound that set the steel of the nomads' hall vibrating and their very flesh and bones at tingle. Then it died away as had the bird note which was the first sound of this world to greet them. Jupiter, what's that? Mado unslung his torpedo projector. As if in answer to his startled question a weird object drifted over the treetops and poised directly above them, about fifty feet up. An egg-shaped thing, six or seven feet in length, and seemingly made of white metal. It swayed there gently, without visible means of support, and they could make out a transparent disc on his side, back of which there was a human head with eyes that regarded them curiously. Mado raised his torpedo tube and took aim. Hold it, car warned him. This fellow's no savage. Probably he's one of those who tried to break our fall. Friendly, perhaps. Two more of the ovoids drifted in from the woods and joined the first one, all three settling a few feet lower and their occupants staring intently at the intruders. I'll get the psycho-ray apparatus, Ditas said excitedly. We may be able to get thought-contact with them. He dived through the Nomad's entrance manhole as he spoke. Nothing so frightening about these creatures, or a murmured, her eyes reproaching car. Why, they seem anxious to know that we are not enemies. And indeed, this seemed to be the case, for the strange ovoids wafted still lower, dropping until a faint humming of the internal gravity mechanism came to their ears. These were a highly developed people of scientific attainment, civilized beings. But Mado kept firm hold of his torpedo tube and car fingered the ray pistol at his belt. The booming note from the hills came then, frightfully near this time, and the three ovoids moved with sudden roaring of their motors, literally hurling themselves skyward. But the menace they sought to escape was real, and not to be outdone in speed. A vast black something whirred out from beyond the treetops and flung itself upon them. A pterodactyl, Mado gasped, one of the prehistoric monsters of Terra. Car, there are men writing it, or exclaimed, red men. It was true. The pterodandron, a horrid bat-like thing with a wing spread of fully twenty feet, carried three of the bronze savages clinging to a sort of harness that encircled its body just back of the crested head. The huge flying reptile whistled rockously as it flew, and one of the savages was whirling a sling which held a stone as large as its own head. They watched in amazement as the swift aerial steed flapped its way after the rising ovoids. And then the savage let loose an end of his thong and released its missile, which crashed full against the transparent disk of an ovoid and tore its way through. The damaged ovoid careened violently, and then fell end over end, crashing in the forest. With a bellow of fury, Mado fired with the Calabite tube at his hip. There was a twang of the propelling ray, and the slender arrow-like torpedo sped forth on its message of death, singing spitefully as it cleaved the air of Titan. It was a fair hit, catching the pterodandron just ahead of its trailing legs, and exploding with the characteristic screaming roar of the deadly Calabite. The monstrous reptile and its crew of barbarians vanished in a blaze that lighted the clouds above them, and brought a babble of excited shouting from the depths of the forest on all sides. They were surrounded by the uncivilized ones of Titan. And those of the ovoids had run off at the first sign of danger. The din from the forest was augmented by the whistling of a second Pteranodon which darted after the remaining ovoids, following swiftly as these retreated with ludicrous, wabbling haste, or a screamed and struck out at something with her fist. A naked arm had reached out from the underbrush and grasped her wrist. Car wheeled and his ray-pistol spat crackling flame. The savage, an undersized red man with an enormous head, rose steadily from his hiding place, a look of terrible hate in his contorted features. Then, like a punctured balloon, his body collapsed into the nothingness of complete disintegration. Back, back to the nomad, Car roared, dragging aura with him and leveling his pistol at the group of bronze brutes who had rushed into the space where the vessel lay amongst the trees. Mato was busy with his torpedo tube and a vast explosion shook the ground beneath them as the trio of savages were blasted out of existence. A great tree toppled and crashed across the nose of the nomad, its roots ripped from the soil by the concussion. Aura had whipped out her own pistol and was firing as they fell back. Game-kid, she was. Car gloated as he saw she was making each shot tell. But this couldn't last. There were hundreds of them now, long-armed and big-headed red devils swarming in from every direction. Car dodged none too quickly to save his skull from a swift flung stone, which clanged against the nomad's hull. There was a perfect hail of missiles now. One struck his left arm a numbing blow, and he heard a sickening thud and auras moan as she was hit. And there were wing-darts from blow-guns. A dusky moon-face leered into his own, horribly close, and he yelled his rage as he drove it back with a swift uppercut. But the horde of savages came on in ever-increasing numbers and with renewed vigour. Quick, inside, Car hissed in Aura's ear as his fingers found the rim of the manhole. He'd have her safely within in a moment. He'd has clambered out with the thought-machine in his arms, and a singing dart from one of the blow-guns pierced him through and through. A look of astonishment spread over his kindly features, and he fell forward, dying. And then Car looked up into a grinning face behind a huge club which was swinging downward. He threw up his arm to break the force of the blow, but the club fell too swiftly. The enormous weight of it crashed down on his skull, and he knew no more.