 19 Try again by the Infernal, snap, Dean, if you do anything to balk us, you die. Miko scanned the apparatus with keen eyes. How much technical knowledge of signaling instruments does this brigand leader have? I was tense and cold with apprehension as I sat in a corner of the radio room, watching snap. Could Miko be fooled? Snap I knew was trying to fool him. The moon spread close beneath us. My log chart, computed up to 30 minutes past, showed us barely some 30,000 miles over the moon's surface, a silver quadrant. The sunset caught the lunar mountains, flung slanting shadows over the lunar plains. All the disk was plainly visible. The mellow earth-like glowed serene and pale to illumine the lunar night. The planetara was bathed in silver. A brilliant silver glare swept the forward deck, clean white and splashed with black shadows. We had partly circled the moon, so as now to approach it from the earthward side. Miko, for a time, had been at my side in the turret. I had not seen Coniston or Han of recent hours. I had slept, awakened, refreshed, and had a meal. Coniston and Han remained below, one or the other of them always with the crew, to execute my siren daughters. Then Coniston came to take my place in the turret, and I went with Miko to the radio room. You are skillful, Haljin. A measure of grim approval was in his voice. You evidently have no wish to try and fool me in this navigation. I had not indeed. It is delicate work at best, coping with the intricacies of celestial mechanics upon a semi-circular trajectory with retarding velocity, and with a makeshift crew we could easily have come upon real difficulty. We hung at last, hulled down, facing the earthward hemisphere of the lunar disk. The giant ball of the earth lay behind and above us, the sun over our stern quarter. With forward velocity almost checked, we poised, and snap began his signals to the unsuspecting grant line. My work momentarily was over. I sat watching the radio room. Moa was here, close beside me. I felt always her watchful gaze, so that even the play of my emotions needed raining. Miko worked with Snap. Anita too was here. To Miko and Moa it was the somber, taciturn George Prince, shrouded always in his black mourning cloak, disinclined to talk, sitting alone, brooding and sullen. This is how they thought of Anita. Miko repeated, by the infernal, if you try to fool me, Snap, Dean. The small metal room, with its grid floor and low arched ceiling, glared with moonlight through its window. The moving figures of Snap and Miko were aped by the grotesque, misshapen shadows of them on the walls. Miko gigantic, a great menacing ogre. Snap, small and alert, a trim pale figure in his tight fitting white trousers, broad flowing belt, and white shirt open at the throat. His face was pale and drawn from lack of sleep, and the torture to which Miko has subjected him earlier on the voyage. But he grinned at the brigands words, and pushed his straggling hair closer under the red eye shade. The room over long periods was deadly silent, with Miko and Snap bending watchfully at the crowded banks of instruments, a silence in which my own pounding heart seemed to echo. I did not dare to look at Anita, nor she at me. Snap was trying to signal earth, not the moon. His main grids were set in the reverse. The infrared waves flung from the bow window were of a frequency which Snap and I believed that Grantline could not pick up. And over against the wall, close beside me, and seemingly ignored by Snap, there was a tiny ultraviolet sender. Its faint hum and the quivering of its mirrors had so far passed unnoticed. Would some earth station pick it up? I prayed so. There was a thumbnail mirror here which would bring an answer. Would some earth telescope be able to see us? I doubted it. The pinpoint of the planetara's infinitesimal bulk would be beyond vision. Long silences broken only by the faint hiss and murmur of Snap's instruments. Shall I try the graphs, Miko? Yes. I helped him with the spectro. At every level the plates showed us nothing, save the scarred and pitted moon's surface. We worked for an hour. There was nothing. Bleak cold night on the moon here beneath us. A touch of fading sunlight upon the Apennines up near the South Pole. Tycho, with its radiating, open rills, stood like a grim, dark maw. Miko bent over a plate. Something here? Is there? An abnormality upon the frowning, ragged cliffs of Tycho? We thought so. But then it seemed not. Another hour. No signal came from earth. If Snap's calls were getting through we had no evidence of it. Abruptly Miko strode at me from across the room. I went cold and tense. Moa shifted, alert to my every movement. But Miko was not interested in me. A sweep of his clenched fist knocked the ultraviolet sender and its coils and mayors into a tinkling crash to the grid at my feet. We don't need that, whatever it is. He rubbed his knuckles where the violet waves had tinged them and turned grimly back to Snap. Where are your ray mirrors? If the treasure lies exposed, this Martian's knowledge was far greater than we believed. He grinned sardonically at Anita. If our treasure is here on this hemisphere, Prince, we should pick up its rays. Don't you think so? Or is Grantline too cautious to leave it exposed? Anita spoke in a careful, throaty draw. The rays came through enough when we passed here on the way out. You should know, Grinde Miko, an expert eavesdropper, Prince. I will say that for you. Come, Dean, try something else. By God, if Grantline does not signal us, I will be likely to blame you. My patience is shortening. Shall we go closer, Haljin? I don't think it would help, I said. He nodded. Perhaps not. Are we checked? Yes, we were poised, very nearly motionless. If you wish in advance, I can ring it, but we need a surface destination now. True, Haljin, he stood, thinking. Would a Z-Ray penetrate those crater cliffs? Tycho, for instance, at this angle? It might, Snap agreed. You think he may be on the northern inner Tycho? He may be anywhere, said Miko, shortly. If you think that, Snap persisted, suppose we swing the Planetara over the south pole, Tycho viewed from there, and take another quarter day of time, Miko sneered? Flash on your Z-Ray. Help him hook it up, Haljin. I moved to the lens-box of the spectrogelograph. It seemed that Snap was very strangely reluctant. Was it because he knew that the grant-line camp lay concealed on the north inner wall of Tycho's giant ring? I thought so, but Snap flashed a queer look at Anita. She did not see it, but I did, and I could not understand it. My accursed, witless incapacity, if only I had taken warning. Here, commanded Miko. A score of graphs with the Z-Ray. I tell you I will comb the surface if we have to stay here until our ship comes some pharic sawn to join us. The Martian brigands were coming. Miko's signals had been answered. In ten days the other brigand ship, adequately manned and armed, would be here. Snap helped me connect the Z-Ray. He did not dare even to whisper to me, with Moa, hovering always so close. And for all of Miko's sardonic smiling, we knew that he would tolerate nothing from us now. He was fully armed, and so was Moa. I recall that several times Snap endeavored to touch me significantly. Oh, if only I had taken warning. We finished our connecting. The dull gray point of Z-Ray gleamed through the prisms to mingle with the moonlight entering the main lens. I stood with a shutter-trip. The same interval, Snap? Yes. Beside me I was aware of a faint reflection of the Z-Ray. A gray cathedral shaft crossing the room and falling upon the opposite wall. An unreality there has the Z-Ray faintly strove to penetrate the metal room side. I said, shall I make the exposure? Snap nodded. But the graph was never made. An exclamation from Moa made us all turn. The Gamma Meras were quivering. Grantline had picked up our signals. With what was undoubtedly an intensified receiving equipment, which Snap had not thought Grantline able to use. He had caught our faint Z-Rays, which Snap was sending only to deceive Miko. And Grantline had recognized a planetara, and had released his occulting screens surrounding the ore. Upon their heels came Grantline's message. Not in the secret system he had arranged with Snap, but unsuspectingly in open code. I could read the swinging mirror, and so could Miko. And Miko decoded it triumphantly aloud. Surprised but pleased your return. Approach mid-Northern Hemisphere region of Archimedes, 40,000 off nearest Apennine Range. The message broke off, but even its importance was overshadowed. Miko stood in the center of the radio room, triumphantly reading the little indicator. Its beam swung on the scale, which chanced to be almost directly over Anita's head. I saw Miko's expression change. A look of surprise, amazement, came over him. Why? He gasped. He stood staring, almost stupidly staring, for an instant. And as I regarded him with fascinated horror, there came upon his heavy gray face a look of dawning comprehension. And I heard Snap's startled intake of breath. He moved to the spectro, where the Z-Ray connections were still humming. But with a leap, Miko flung him away. Off with you. Moa, watch him. Haljin, don't move. Again Miko stood staring. I saw now that he was staring at Anita. Why, George Prince, how strange you look. Anita did not move. She was stricken with horror. She shrank back against the wall, huddled in her cloak. Miko's sardonic voice came again. How strange you look, Prince. He took a step forward. He was grim and calm, horribly calm, deliberate, gloating like a great gray monster in human form, toying with a fascinated, imprisoned bird. Move just a little, Prince. Let the Z-Ray light fall more fully. Anita's head was bare. That pale, hamlet-like face, dear God, the Z-Ray light lay gray and penetrating upon it. Miko took another step, peering, grinning. How amazing. George Prince, why, I can hardly believe it. Moa was armed with an electronic cylinder now. For all her amazement, what target emotions sweeping her, I can only guess, she never took her eyes from Snap and me. Back, don't move, either of you, she hissed at us. Then Miko leaped at Anita like a giant gray leopard pouncing. Away with that cloaked Prince. I stood cold and numbed, and realization came at last. The faint Z-Light had fallen by chance upon Anita's face, penetrating the flesh, exposed faintly glowing the bone-line of her jaw, unmasked the art of gluts. Miko sees her wrists, drew her forward, beyond the shaft of Z-Light, into the brilliant light of the moon, and ripped her cloak from her. The gentle curves of her woman's figure were so unmistakable, and as Miko gazed at them all his calm triumph swept away. Why, Anita, I heard Moa mutter. So that is it, a venomous flashing look, a shaft from me to Anita and back again. So that is it. Why, Anita? Miko's great arms gathered her up as though she were a child, so I have you back from the dead delivered back to me. Greg, Snap's warning, and his grip on my shoulder, brought me a measure of sanity. I had tensed the spring. I stood quivering, and Moa thrust her weapon against my face. The grids were swaying again with a message from Grant-Line, but it was ignored. In the glare of moonlight by the forward window, Miko held Anita, his great hands pawing her with triumphant possessive caresses. So, little Anita, you are given back to me. End of Chapter 19 Recording by Richard Kilmer, Rio Medina, Texas Chapter 20 of Brigands of the Moon This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Amy Grimoire, Brigands of the Moon by Ray Cummings, Chapter 20 Moonlight upon earth so gently shines to make romantic a lover smile. But the reality of the lunar night is cold beyond human belief. Cold and darkly silent. Grim desolation. Awesome. Majestic. A frowning majesty that even to the most intrepid human beholder is inconceivably forbidding. And there were humans here now, on this tumbled plain between Archimedes and the mountains. One small crater amid the million of its fellows was distinguished this night by the presence of humans. The Grant-Line camp. It huddled in the deepest purple shadows on the side of a bowl-like pit. A crudely circular orifice with a scant two miles across its rippling rim. There was faint light here to mark the presence of the living intruders. The blue-glow radiance of the moral tube lights under a spread of glassite. The Grant-Line camp stood midway up, one of the inner cliff walls of the little crater. The broken rock-strewn floor two miles wide lay 500 feet below the camp. A broad-level shelf hung midway up the cliff and upon it. Grant-Line had built his little group of glassite dome shelters. Viewed from above, there was the darkly purple crater floor, the upflung circular rim where the earth light tinged the spires and crags with the yellow sheen. On the shelf, like a huddled group of birds' nests, Grant-Line's domes hung and gazed down upon the inner valley. The air here on the moon's surface was negligible. A scant one-fifethousandth of the atmospheric pressure at the sea level on earth, but within the glassite shelter, a normal earth pressure must be maintained. Rigidly braced double walls to withstand the explosive tendency, with no external pressure to counteract it. A tremendous necessity for mechanical equipment had burdened Grant-Line's small ship to capacity. The history of manufactured air, the pressure equalizes, renewers, respirators, the lighting and temperature maintenance of a space flyer was here. There was this Grant-Line building, stretched low and rectangular along the front edge of the ledge, but then it were living rooms, mess hall and kitchen. Fifty feet behind it, connected by a narrow passage of glassite, was a similar though smaller structure. The mechanical control rooms with their humming, vibrating mechanisms were here, and an instrument room with signaling apparatus, senders, receivers, mirror grids and audio phones of several varieties, and an electrotelescope, small but modern, dome overhead like a little earth observatory. From this instrument building, beside the connecting pedestrian passage, wire cables for light and air tubes and strings and bundles of instrument wires ran to the main structure, gray snakes upon the porous gray lunar rock. The third building seemed to lean to banked against the cliff wall, a slanting shed wall of glassite, fifty feet high and two hundred in length. Under it, for months Grant-Line's bores had dug into the cliff. Braised tunnels were here, penetrating back and downward into the vein of rock. The work was over, the bores had been dismantled and packed away. At one end of the cliff, the mining equipment lay piled in a litter. There was a pile of discarded ore where Grant-Line had codded and dumped it after his first crude refining process had yielded it as waste. The ore slag, like gray powder flakes, strewn down the cliff. Trucks and ore cuts along the ledge stood discarded, mute evidence of the weeks and months of work these helmeted miners had undergone, struggling upon this airless frowning world. But now all that was finished. The catalytic ore was sufficiently concentrated. It lay this treasure in a seventy foot pile behind the glassite lean to with a cage of wires over it and an insulation barrage hiding its presence. The ore shelter was dark, the other two buildings were lighted and there were small lights mounted at intervals about the camp and along the edge of the ledge. There was a crater ladder with tiny platforms some twenty feet one above the other hung precariously to the cliff face. It descended the five hundred feet to the crater floor and behind the camp it mounted the jagged cliff face to the upper rim height where an observatory platform was placed. Such was the outer aspect of the Grant-Line treasure camp near the beginning of this lunar night when, unknown to Grant-Line and his men, the planetara with its brigands was approaching. The night was perhaps a sixth advanced, full night, no breath of cloud to mow the brilliant starry heavens. The quadrant earth hung poised like a giant mellow moon over Grant-Line's crater. A bright earth, yet no air was here on this lunar surface to spread its light only a glow mingling with spots of blue tube light on the poles along the cliffs and the radiance from the lighted buildings. No evidence of movement showed about the silent camp. Then a pressure door in an end of the main building opened its tiny series of locks. A bent figure came out, the lock closed. The figure straightened and gazed about the camp. Grotesque bloated semblance of a man, helmeted with frounded dome-hood, suggestion of an ancient sea-diver, yet gargled and trunked like a gas-mashed fighter of the 20th century. He stopped presently and disconnected metal weights which were upon his shoes. Then he stood erect again and with giant strides bounded along the cliff. Fantastic figure in the blue-lit bloom. A child's dream of crags and rocks and strange lights with a single monstrous figure and seven-leaked boots. He went to length the ledge with his 20-foot strides and spectered the lights and made adjustments. Came back and climbed with agile, bounding steps of the spider ladder to the dome of the crater top. A light flashed on up there, then it was extinguished. The goggled, bloated figure came leaping down after a moment. Grantline's exterior watchman making his rounds. He came back to the main building, fastened the weight on his shoes, signaled. The lock opened, the figure went inside. It was early evening after the dinner hour and before the time of sleep according to the camp routine, Grantline was maintaining. Nine p.m. of earth-eastern American time, recorded now upon his earth chronometer. In the living room of the main building, Johnny Grantline sat with a dozen of his men dispersed about the room, wiling away as best they could the long some hours. All as usual, this cursed moon, when I get home, if I ever do, say or say, Wilkes, but you'll spend your share of the gold leaf and thank your constellations that you had your chance to make it. Let him alone. Come on, Wilkes, take a hand here. This game is not any good with three. The man who had been outside flung his hissing helmet recklessly to the floor and unsealed his suit. Here, get me out of this. No, I won't play. I can't play your cursed game with nothing at stake. A laugh went up at the sharp look of Johnny Grantline flung from where he sat reading in a corner of the room. Commander Zord is no gambling gold leafers tolerated here. Play the game, Wilkes. Grantline said quietly, we all know it's infernal this doing nothing. He's been struck by earth-light, another man laughed. Commander, I told you not to let that guy Wilkes out at night. A rough but good natured lot of men, jolly and raucous by nature in their leisure hours, but there was too much leisure here now. Their mirth had a hollow sound. In older times explorers of the frozen polar zones had to cope with their inactivity, loneliness and despair, but at least they were on their native world. The grimness of the moon was eating into the courage of Grantline's men. An unreality here, a weirdness, these fantastic cracks, the deadly silence, the night almost two weeks of earth-time and length congealed by the deadly frigidity of space. The days of black sky blazing stars and flaming sun with no atmosphere to diffuse the sun's heat radiating so swiftly from the naked lunar surface that the outer temperature still was cold. And day and night always the beloved earth disc hanging poised up near the zenith from thinnest crescent to full earth then back to crescent, all so abnormal, irrational, disturbing to human senses. With the mining work over, an irritability grew upon Grantline's men. And perhaps since the human mind is so wonderful, a loose of a thing, they lay upon these men an indefinable sense of disaster. Johnny Grantline felt it. He thought about it now as he sat in the room corner watching Wilkes being forced into the pelagic game. And he found the premonition strong within him. Unreasonably ominous depression. Buying the accident which had disabled his little spaceship when they reached the small crater hole, his expedition had gone well. His instruments and the information he had from the former explorers had enabled him to pick up the catalyst vein with only one month of search. The vein had now been exhausted. But the treasure was here. Enough to supply every need on his earth. Nothing was left but to wait for the planet Terra. The men were talking of that now. She ought to be well midway from Pharax Shan by now. When do you figure she'll be back here and signal us? Twenty days, give her another five now to Mars and five in Port. That's ten. We'll pick her signals in three weeks, mark me. A reasonable sunrise and sunset. This cursed moon. You mean William's next daylight? Ah, he's inventing a lunar language. He'll be a moon man yet. Olaf Swenson, the big blonde fellow from the Scandinavia fjords, came and flung himself down beside Grantline. I think they've been without enough to do, Commander. Three weeks isn't very long. Oh, no, maybe not. From across the room, somebody was saying, if the comet hadn't smashed on us, damn me, but I'd ask the Commander to let some of us take her back. Bella, she has smashed. You all agreed to things as they are, Johnny said shortly. We all took the same chances, voluntarily. A dynamic little fellow, this Johnny Grantline, short of temper sometimes, but always just and a perfect leader of men. In stature he was almost as small as Snap. But he was thick-sat with a smooth-shaven, keen-eyed, square-jawed face and a shock of brown, tousled hair. A man of thirty-five, though the decision of his manner, the quiet dominance of his voice, made him seem older. He stood up now surveying the blue-lit glass-light room with its low ceiling close overhead. He was bow-legged, a movement he seemed to roll with a stiff-legged gait, like some sea-captains of former days on the deck of his swaying ship. Odd-looking figure, heavy flannel shirt and trousers, boots heavily weighted and bulky metal-loaded belts strapped about his waist. He grinned at Swenson. When the time comes to divide this treasure, everyone will be happy all. A world of millions and gold leaf, a hundred and ten millions in the gross as it now stood, with twenty millions to be deducted by the Federated Refiners for reducing it to the standard purity for commercial use. Ninety millions. With only a million and a half to come off for expedition expenses and the planetarius share another million, a nice little steak. Grant Lyons strode across the room with his rolling gait. Cheer up, boys! Who's winning here? I say you, fellows. Grant Line clicked the receiver. The room fell into silence. Any call was unusual. Nothing ever happened here in the camp. The duty man's voice sounded over the room. SIGNALS COMING NOT CLEAR. WILL YOU COME OVER COMMANDER? SIGNALS. It was never Grant Line's way to enforce needless discipline. He offered no objection when every man in the camp rushed through the connecting passages. They crowded the instrument room where the tense duty man sat, bending over his radio receivers. The mirrors were swaying. The duty man looked up and met Grant Line's gaze. I ran it up to the highest intensity, Commander. We ought to get it. LOW SCALE, PEDER? Yes, weakest infrared. I'm bringing it up, and even though it uses too much of our power. Get it," said Grant Line shortly. I got one slight television swing a minute ago. Then it faded. I think it's the Planetara. PLANETARA! The crowding group of men chorused. How could it be the Planetara? But it was. The call came in presently. Unmistakably the Planetara turned back now from her course to Farrick Sean. How far away, Peter? The duty man consulted the needles of his dial scale. Close. Very weak infrared, but close. Around 30,000 miles, maybe. It snapped Dean calling. The Planetara here, within 30,000 miles. Excitement and pleasure swept the room. The Planetara had for so long been awaited eagerly. The excitement communicated to Grant Line. It was unlike him to be unconscious. Yet now, with no thought, save that some unforeseen and pleasing circumstance had brought the Planetara ahead of time. Incautious Grant Line certainly was. Raise the barrage. I'll go my suit is here. A willing volunteer rushed out to the shed. Can you send Peter? Grant Line demanded. Yes, with more power. Use it. Johnny dictated the message of his location, which we received. In his incautious excitement he ignored the secret code. An interval passed. No message came from us. Just snaps routine signal in the weak infrared, which we hoped Grant Line would not get. The men crowding Grant Line's instrument room waited in tense silence. Then Grant Line tried the television again. Its current weakened the lights with the drain upon the distributors, and cooled the room with a sudden deadly chill as the errant's insulating system slowed down. The duty man looked frightened. He'll bulge out our walls, Commander. The internal pressure. Well chance it. They picked up the image of the Planetara. It's shown clear on the grid the segment of Starfield with a tiny cigar-shaped blob. Clear enough to be unmistakable. The Planetara, here now over the moon, almost directly overhead, poised it what the altimeter scale showed to be a fraction under thirty thousand miles. The men gazed in odd silence. The Planetara coming. But the altimeter needle was motionless. The Planetara was hanging, poised. A sudden gasp went about the room. The men stood with whitening faces gazing at the Planetara's image and at the altimeter's needle. It was moving now. The Planetara was descending, but not with an orderly swoop. The grid showed the ship clearly. The bow tilted up, then dipped down. But then in a moment it swung up again. The ship turned partly over, righted itself, then swayed again, drunkenly. The watching men were stricken in horrified silence. The Planetara's image momentarily, horribly grew larger, swaying, then turning, completely over, rotated slowly, and over, and. The Planetara out of control was falling. Then I stood with Moa's weapon upon us. Miko held Anita, triumphant possessive. Then, as she struggled, a gentleness came to the strange Martian Giant. Perhaps he really loved her. Looking back on it, I sometimes think so. Anita do not fear me. He held her away from him. I would not harm you. I want your love. Irony came to him. And I thought I had killed you. But it was only your brother. He partly turned. I was aware of how alert was his attention. He grinned. Hold them, Moa. Don't let them do anything foolish. So, little Anita, you were masquerading to spy on me? That was wrong of you. Anita had not spoken. She held herself tensely away from Miko. She had flashed me a look, just one. What horrible misschance to have brought on this catastrophe. The completion of Grantline's message had come unnoticed by us all. We remained tense. Look, Grantline again, Stapp said abruptly. But the mirrors were steadying. We had no recording mechanism. The rest of the message was lost. No further message came. There was an interval while Miko waited. He held Anita in the hollow of his great arm. Quiet, little bird. Do not fear me. I have work to do, Anita. This is our great adventure. We will be rich, you and I. All the luxuries these worlds can offer. All for us when this is over. Careful, Moa. This haljin has no wit. Well could he say it? I, who had been so witless, has to let this come upon us. Moa's weapon prodded me. Her voice hissed at me, with all the venom of a reptile enraged. So that was your game, Greg Haljin. And I was so graceless as to admit love for you. Snap murmured in my ear. Don't move, Greg. She's reckless. She heard it. She whirled on him. We have lost George Prince, it seems. Well, we will survive without his scientific knowledge. And you, Dean, and this haljin, mark me. I will kill you both if you cause trouble. Moa was gloating. Don't kill him yet, Moa. What was it Grantline said near the crater of Archimedes? Ring us down, Haljin. We'll land. He signaled the turret, gave Coniston the Grantline message, and audio phoned it below to Han. The news spread about the ship. The bandits were jubilant. We'll land now, Haljin. Come, Anita and I will go with you to the turret. I found my voice. To what destination? Near Archimedes, the Apennine side. Keep well away from the Grantline camp. We will probably sight it as we descend. There was no trajectory needed. We were almost over Archimedes now. I could drop us with a visible, instrumental course. My mind was whirling with a confusion of thoughts. What could we do? I met Snap's gaze. Ring us down, Greg, he said quietly. I nodded. I pushed Moa's weapon away. You don't need that. We went to the turret. Moa watched me and Snap a grim, cold Amazon. She avoided looking at Anita, whom Miko helped down the ladders with a strange mixture of courtier-like grace and amused irony. Coniston stared at Anita. I say, not George Prince, the girl? No time for explanations, Miko commanded. It's the girl masquerading as her brother. Get below, Coniston. Haljin, take us down. This stounded Englishman continued the gaze at Anita, but he said, I mean to say, where to on the moon? Not to encounter Grantline at once. Miko, our equipment is not ready. Of course not. We will land well away. The reluctant Coniston left us. I took the controls. Miko, still holding Anita as though she were a child, sat beside me. We will watch him, Anita, a skilled fellow, at this sort of work. I rang my signals for the shifting of the gravity plates. The answer should have come from below within a second or two. But it did not. Miko regarded me with his great bushy eyebrows upraised. Ring again, Haljin. I duplicated. No answer. The silence was ominous. Miko muttered. At a cursed hawn. Ring again. I sent the imperative emergency demand. No answer, a second or two. Then all of us in the turret were startled. Transfixed. From below came a sudden hiss. It sounded in the turret. It came from the shifting room called the Hissing of the pneumatic valves of the plate shifters in the lower control room. The valves were opening. The plates automatically shifting into neutral and disconnecting. An instant of startled silence. Miko may have realized the significance of what had happened. Certainly Snap and I did. The hissing ceased. I gripped the emergency plate shifter switch which hung over my head. Its disc was dead. The plates were dead and neutral. In the position they were placed only in port. And their shifting mechanisms were imperative. I was on my feet. We're in neutral. The moon disc moved visibly as the planetara lurched. The vault of the heavens was slowly swinging. Miko ripped out a heavy oath. Haljin, what is this? The heavens turned with a giant swoop. The moon was over us. We swung in a dizzying arc. Overhead, then back past our stern, under us, then appearing over our bow. The planetara had turned over, upending, rotating, end over end. For a moment I think all of us in the turret stood and clung. The moon disc, the earth, sun, and all the stars were swinging past our windows. So horribly dizzying. The planetara seemed lurching and tumbling. But it was an optical effect only. I stared with grim determination at my feet. The turret seemed to steady. Then I looked again. The horrible swoop of all the heavens and the moon, as it went past, seemed expanded. We were falling out of control with the moon gravity pulling us down. That accursed hawn. A moment only had passed. My fancy that the moon disc was enlarged was merely the horror of my imagination. We had not fallen far enough for that. But we were falling. Unless I could do something we would crash upon the lunar surface. Anita killed in this turret, the end of everything, every hope. Action came to me. I gassed. Miko, you stay here. The controls are dead. You stay here and hold Anita. I ignored Moa's weapon, snap, thrust her away. We're falling you fool, let us alone. Miko gasped. Can you check us? What happened? I don't know. I stood clinging, the dizzying whirl. From the audiophone grid, Coniston's voice sounded. I say, Haljin, something's wrong, Han doesn't signal. The lookout in the forward tower was clinging to our window. On the deck below our turret, a member of the crew appeared, stood lurching for a moment, then shouted and ran, swaying aimless. From the lower hull corridors, our grids sounded with the tramping of running steps. Panic among the crew was spreading over the ship, the chaos below deck. I pulled out the emergency switch again, dead. Snap, we must get down, the signals. Coniston's voice came like a scream from the grid. Han is dead. The controls are broken. I shouted, Miko, hold Anita, come on, snap. We clung to the ladders, snap was behind me. Careful, Greg, good God. The dizzying whirl, I tried not to look. The deck under me was now a blurred kaleidoscope of swinging patches of moonlight and shadow. We reached the deck. It seemed that from the turret Anita's voice followed us. Be careful. Once inside the ship our senses steadied. With the rotating, reeling heavens shut out. There were only the shouts and tramping steps of the panic-stricken crew to mark that there was anything amiss. That and a pseudo sensation of lurching caused by the pulsing of gravity, a pull when the moon was beneath our hull to combine its forces with our magnetizers, a lightning when it was overhead, a throbbing pendulum lurch. We ran down the corridor incline. A white-faced member of the crew came running up. What happened, Haljin? What happened? We're falling, I gripped him. Get below, come with us. But he jerked away from me, falling? The steward came running, falling, my God? Snap swung at them. Get ahead of us. The manual controls are only chance. We need all you men at the compressor pumps. But it was instinct to try and get on deck. As though here below we were rats caught in a trap. The men tore away from us and ran. Their shouts of panic resounded through the dim, blue, lit corridor. Coniston came lurching from the control room. I say, falling, Haljin, my God, look. Han was sprawled at the gravity plate switchboard, sprawled head down, dead, killed or a suicide. I bent over him. His hands gripped the main switch. He had ripped it loose. And his left hand had reached and broken the fragile line of tubes that intensified the current of the pneumatic plate shifters. A suicide? With his last frenzy? Determine the kill us all? Why? Then I saw that Han had been killed. Not a suicide. In his hand he gripped the small segment of black fabric, a piece torn from an invisible cloak. Snap was rigging the hand compressors. If he could get the pressure back in the tanks. I swung on Coniston. You armed? Yes. He was white faced and confused, but not in a panic. He showed me his heat ray cylinder. What do you want me to do? Round up the crew. Get all you can. Bring them here to man the pumps. He dashed away. Snap called after him. Kill them if they argue. Miko's voice sounded from the turret called grid. Fallen, Haljin, you can see it now. Check us. Desperate moments. Or was it an hour? Coniston brought the men. He stood over them with menacing weapon. We had all the pumps going. The pressure rose a little in the tanks. Enough to shift the bow plate, I tried it. The plate slowly clicked into a new combination. A gravity repulsion just in the bow tip. I signaled Miko. Have we stopped the swinging? No, but slower. I could feel it. The lurch of the gravity. But not steady now, a limp. The tendency of our bow was to stay up. More pressure snap. One of the crew rebelled, tried the bolt from the room. Coniston shot him down. I shifted another bow plate. Then two in the stern. The stern plates seemed to move more readily than the others. Run all the stern plates, snap advised. I tried it. The lurching stopped. Miko called. We're bowed down, falling. But not falling free. The moon, gravity pull on us, was more than half neutralized. I'll go up snap and try the engines. You don't mind staying down here? Executing my signals? You idiot. He gripped my shoulders. His eyes were gleaming, his face haggard. But his pale lips twitched with a smile. Maybe it's goodbye, Greg. We'll fall, fighting. Yes, fighting. Coniston, you keep the pressure up. With the broken tubes, it took nearly all the pressure to maintain the few plates I had shifted. One slipped back to neutral. Then the pumps gained on it, and it shifted again. I dashed up to the deck. Oh, the moon was so close now, so horribly close. The deck shadows were still. Through the forward bow windows, the moon surface glared up at us. The last horrible minutes were a blur. And there was always Anita's face. She left Miko. Faced with death, he sat clinging, Moa, two sat apart, staring. Anita crept to me. Greg, dear one, the end. I tried the electronic engines from the stern, setting them in reverse. The streams of their light glowed from the stern, forward along our hull, and flared down from our bow toward the lunar surface. But no atmosphere was here to give resistance. Perhaps the electronic streams checked our fall a little. The pumps gave us pressure, just in the last minute, to slide a few of the hull plates. But our bow stayed down. We slid like a spent rocket falling. I recall the horror of that expanding lunar surface, the mall of Archimedes yawning, a blob, widening to a great pit. Then I saw it was to one side rushing upward. Greg, dear one, goodbye. Her gentle arms about me, the end of everything for us, I recall murmuring, not falling free, Anita. Some hull plates are set. My dials showed another plate shifting, checking us a little further. Good old snap. I calculated the next best plate to shift. I tried it, slid it over. Then everything faded but the feeling of Anita's arms around me. Greg, dear one, the end of everything for us. There was an uprush of gray black rock. End of chapter 21, recording by Richard Kilmer, Rio Medina, Texas. Chapter 22 of Brigham's of the Moon. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Brigham's of the Moon by Ray Cummings. Chapter 22. I open my eyes to a dark blur of confusion. My shoulder hurt, a pain shooting through it. Something lay like a weight on me. I could not seem to move my left arm. Then I moved it and it hurt. I was lying twisted. I sat up. And with a rush memory came. The crash was over. I was not dead. Anita. She was lying beside me. There was little light here in the silent blur, a soft mellow earth light filtering in the window. The weight on me was Anita. She lay sprawled her head and shoulders halfway across my lap. Not dead. Thank God not dead. She moved. Her arms went around me and I lifted her. The earth light glowed on her pale face. It's past Anita. We've struck and we're still alive. I held her as though all of life's turgid dangers were powerless to touch us. But in the silence, my floating senses were brought back to reality by a faint sound forcing itself upon me. A little hiss. The faintest murmuring breath like a hiss. Escaping air. I cast off Anita's clinging arms. Anita, this is madness. For minutes we must have been lying there in the heaven of our embrace. But air was escaping. The planetara's dome was broken and our precious air was hissing out. Full reality came to me. I was not seriously injured. I found I could move freely. I could stand a twisted shoulder, a limp left arm, but they were better in a moment. And Anita did not seem to be hurt. Blood was upon her but not her own. Beside Anita stretched face down on the turret grid was the giant figure of Miko. The blood lay in a small pool against his face. A widening pool. Moa was here. I thought her body twitched. Then was still this soundless wreckage in the dim glow of the wrecked turret with its two motionless broken human figures. It seemed as though Anita and I were ghouls prowling. I saw that the turret had fallen over to the planetara's deck. It lay dashed against the dome side. The deck was a slant, a litter of wreckage. A broken human figure showed one of the crew who at the last must have come running up. The forward observation tower was down on the chart room roof. In its metal tangle, I thought I could see the legs of the tower look out. So this was the end of the Brigham's adventure. The planetara's last voyage. How small and futile are humans' struggles? Miko's daring enterprise, so villainous, brought all in a few moments to this silent tragedy. The planetara had fallen 30,000 miles. But why? What had happened to Han? And where was Coniston down in this broken hull? And snap. I thought suddenly of snap. I clutched at my wandering wits. This inactivity was death. The escaping air hissed in my ears. Our precious air escaping away into the vacant desolation of the lunar emptiness. Through one of the twisted slanting dome windows, a rocky spire was visible. The planetara lay bow down wedged in a jagged cradle of lunar rock. A miracle that the hull and dome had held together. Anita, we must get out of here. Their helmets are in the forward storage room, Greg. She was staring at the fallen Miko and Moa. She shuddered and turned away and gripped me. In the forward storage room by the port of the emergency exit. If only the exit locks would operate. We must find snap and get out of here. Good old snap. Would we find him lying dead? We climbed from the slanting fallen turret over the wreckage of the littered deck. It was not difficult. A lightness was upon us. The planetara's gravity magnetizers were dead. This was only the light moon gravity pulling us. Careful, Anita. Don't jump too freely. We leaped along the deck. The hiss of the escaping pressure was like a clanging gong of warning to tell us to hurry. The hiss of death so close. Snap, I murmured. Oh, Greg, I pray we may find him alive. With a 15 foot leap, we cleared a pile of broken deck chairs. A man lay groaning near them. I went back with a rush. Not snap. A steward. He had been a brigand, but he was a steward to me now. Get up. This is Haljan. Hurry, we must get out of here. The air is escaping. But he sank back and lay still. No time to find if I could help him. There was Anita and snap to save. We found a broken entrance to one of the descending passages. I flung the debris aside and cleared it. Like a giant of strength with only this moon gravity holding me, I raised a broken segment of superstructure and heaved it back. Anita and I dropped ourselves down the sloping passage. The interior of the wrecked ship was silent and dim. An occasional passage light was still burning. The passage in all the rooms lay a skew, wreckage everywhere, but the double dome and hull shell had stood the shock. Then I realized that the errant system was slowing down. Our heat like our air was escaping, radiating away, a deadly chill settling on everything. The silence and the deadly chill of death would soon be here in these wrecked corridors. The end of the planetara. We prowled like ghouls. We did not see Coniston. Snap had been by the shifter pumps. We found him in the oval doorway. He lay sprawled. Dead? No, he moved. He sat up before we could get to him. He seemed confused, but his senses clarified with the movement of our figures over him. Greg, why Anita? Snap. You're all right. We struck. The air is escaping. He pushed me away. He tried to stand. I'm all right. I was up a minute ago, Greg. It's getting cold. Where is she? I had her here. She wasn't killed. I spoke to her. Irrational. Snap, I held him. Shook him. Snap old fellow. He said normally, easy, Greg. I'm all right. Anita gripped him. Who, Snap? She. There she is. Another figure was here on the grid floor by the door oval. A figure partly shrouded in a broken invisible cloak and hook. An invisible cloak. I saw a white face with opened eyes regarding me. Venza, I dent them. You. Venza here? Why? How? My thoughts swept on. Venza here dying? Her eyes closed, but she murmured to Anita. Where is he? I want him. I murmured impulsively. Here I am, Venza dear. Gently as one would speak with gentle sympathy to humor the dying. Here I am, Venza, but it was only the confusion of the shock upon her, and it was upon us all. She pushed at Anita. I want him. She saw me, this whimsical Venus girl. Even here as we gathered, all of us blurred by shock. Confused in the dim wrecked ship with the chill of death coming. Even here she could jest. Her pale lips smiled. You, Greg. I'm not hurt. I don't think I'm hurt. She managed to get herself up on one elbow. Did you think I wanted you with my dying breath? What conceit? Not you, handsome Halgen. I was calling Snap. He was down to her. We're all right, Venza. It's over. We must get out of the ship. The air is escaping. We gathered in the oval doorway. We fought the confusion of panic. The exit port is this way. Or was it? I answered Snap. Yes, I think so. The ship seemed suddenly a stranger to me. So cold. So vibrationless. Broken lights. These slanting wrecked corridors with the ventilating fans stilled. The air was turning fetid. Chilling and thinning with escaping pressure, verifying so that I could feel the grasp of it in my lungs and the pinpricks in my cheeks. We started off four of us still alive in this silent ship of death. My blurred thoughts tried to cope with it all. Venza here. I remembered how she had made me create a diversion when the women passengers were landing on the asteroid. She had carried out her purpose. In the confusion, she had not gone ashore. A stowaway here. She had secured the cloak, prowling to try and help us. She had come upon Han, had seized his race cylinder and struck him down and been herself knocked unconscious by his dying lunge, which had also broken the tubes and wrecked the planetara. And Venza, unconscious, had been lying here with the mechanism of her cloak still operating so that we did not see her when we came and found why Han did not answer my signals. It's here, Greg. Snap and I lifted the pile of moon equipment to which she referred. We located four suits and helmets and the mechanisms to operate them. More are in the chart room, Anita said. But we needed no others. I robed Anita and showed her the mechanisms. Snap was helping Venza. We were all stiff from the cold. But within the suits and their pulsing currents, the blessed warmth came again. The helmets had ports through which food and drink could be taken. I stood with my helmet ready. Anita, Venza and Snap were bloated and grotesque beside me. We had found food and water here, assembled in portable cases which the brigands had prepared. Snap lifted them and signaled to me he was ready. My helmet shut out all sounds, saved my own breathing, my pounding heart and the murmur of the mechanism. The warmth and pure air were good. We reached the hull port locks. They operated. We went through in the light of the headlamps over our foreheads. I closed the locks after us an instinct to keep the air in the ship for the other trapped humans lying in there. We slid down the sloping side of the planetara. We were unweighted, irrationally agile with this slight gravity. I fell a dozen feet and landed with barely a jar. We were out on the lunar surface. A great sloping ramp of crags stretched down before us. Gray black rock tinged with earth light. The earth hung amid the stars and the blackness overhead like a huge section of a glowing yellow ball. This grim, desolate, silent landscape. Beyond the ramp, 50 feet below us, a tumbled naked plane stretched away into blurred distance. But I could see mountains off there. Behind us, the towering frowning rampart wall of Archimedes, loomed against the sky. I had turned to look back at the planetara. She lay broken, wedged between the spires of upstanding rock. A few of her lights still gleamed. The end of the planetara. The three grotesque figures of Anita, Venza and Snap had started off. Punch back figures with the tanks mounted on their shoulders. I bound it and caught them. I touched Snap. We made audio phone contact. Which way do you think I demanded? I think this way down the ramp away from Archimedes toward the mountains. It shouldn't be too far. You run with Venza, I'll hold Anita. He nodded, but we must keep together Greg. We could soon run freely down the ramp out over the tumbled plane, bounding grotesque leaping strides. The girls were more agile, more skillful. They were soon leading us. The earth shadows of their figures leaped beside them. The planetara faded into the distance behind us. Archimedes stood back there. Ahead the mountains came closer. An hour perhaps. I lost track of time. Occasionally we stopped to rest. Were we going toward the grant line camp? Would they see our tiny waving headlights? Another interval then far ahead of us on the ragged plane, lights showed. Moving tiny spots of light, headlights on helmeted figures. We ran monstrously leaping. A group of figures were off there. Grant lines party? Snap grouped me. Grant line. We're safe. Greg safe. He took his bulb light from his helmet. We stood in a group while he waved it, a semaphore signal. Grant line? And the answer came. Yes. You Dean? Their personal code. No doubt of this. It was grant line who had seen the planetara fall and had come to help us. I stood then with my hand holding Anita and I whispered, It's grant line. We're safe Anita my darling. Death had been so close. Those horrible last minutes on the planetara had shocked us, marked us. We stood trembling and grant line and his man came bounding up weird inflated figures. A helmeted figure touched me. I saw through the helmet pain, the visage of a stern faced square jawed young man. Grant line? Johnny grant line? Yes, said his voice at my ear grid. I'm grant line. Your halogen? Greg halogen? They crowded around us, gripped us to hear our explanations. Brigham's, it was amazing to Johnny grant line. But the minutes was over now. Over as soon as grant line realized its existence. We stood for a brief time discussing it. Then I drew apart, leaving snap with grant line. And Anita joined me. I held her arm so that we had audio phone contact. Anita mined. Greg dear one. murmured nothings which mean so much to lovers. As we stood in the fantastic gloom of lunar desolation. With the blessed earth light on us. I sent up a prayer of thankfulness. Not that the enormous treasure was saved. Not that the attack upon grant line had been averted. But only that Anita was given back to me. In moments of greatest emotion, the human mind individualizes. To me, there was only Anita. Life is very strange. The gate to the shining garden of our loves seem swinging wide to let us in. Yet I recall that a vague fear still lay on me. A premonition. I felt a touch on my arm. A bloated helmet visor was thrust near my own. I saw snaps face peering at me. Grant line thinks we should return to the planet Tara might find some of them alive. Grant line touched me. It's only human. Yes, I said. We went back. Some 10 of us a line of grotesque figures bounding with slow easy strides over the jagged rock strewn plane. Our lights danced before us. The planet Tara came at last interview. My ship. Again that hang swept me as I saw her. This her last resting place. She lay here in her open tomb shattered broken unbreathing. The lights on her were extinguished. The rent system had ceased to pulse the heart of the dying ship for a while beating faintly but now at rest. We left the two girls with some of grant lines men at the admission port. Snap grant line and I with three others went inside. There still seem to be air but not enough so that we dared remove our helmets. It was dark inside direct ship. The corridors were black. The whole control rooms were dimly with Earthlight straggling through the windows. This littered tomb cold and silent with death. We stumbled over a fallen figure a member of the crew. Grant line straighten from examining it. Dead he said. Earthlight fell on the horrible face puffed flesh bloated red from the blood which had oozed from its pores in the thinning air. I looked away. We prowled further. Han lay dead in the pump room. The body of Coniston should have been near here. We did not see it. We climbed up to the slanting littered deck. The air up here had all almost hissed away. Again grant line touched me. That the turret. No wonder he asked The wreckage was also formless. Yes. We climbed after stamp into the broken turret room. We passed the body of that steward who just at the end had appealed to me and I had left dying. The legs of the forward lookout still poked grotesquely up from the wreckage of the observatory tower where it lay smashed down against the roof of the chart room. We shoved ourselves into the turret. What was this? No bodies here. The giant Miko was gone. The pool of blood lay congealed into a frozen dark splotch on the middle grid. And Moa was gone. They had not been dead. Had dragged themselves out of here fighting desperately for life. We would find them somewhere around here. But we did not. Nor Coniston. I recalled what Anita had said. Other suits and helmets had been here in the nearby chart room. The brigands had taken them and food and water doubtless and escaped from the ship. Following us through the lower admission ports only a few minutes after we were gone. We made careful search of the entire ship. Eight of the bodies which should have been here were missing. Miko, Moa, Coniston and five of the crew. We did not find them outside. They were hiding near here no doubt. More willing to take their chances than to yield to us now. But how in all this lunar desolation could we help to locate them? No use said grant line. Let them go. If they want death, well they deserve it. But we were saved. Then as I stood there realization leaped at me. Saved. Were we not indeed fatuous fools? In all these emotion swept moments since we had encountered grant line. Memory of that brigandship coming from Mars had never once occurred to stamp in me. I told grant line now. He stared at me. What? I told him again. It would be here in eight days. Fully manned and armed. But Haljin we have almost no weapons. All my comet space was taken with equipment and the mechanisms for my camp. I can't signal earth. I was depending on the planetara. It surged upon us. The brigand menace passed. We were blindly congratulating ourselves on our safety. But it would be eight days or more before in distant ferric shun the non arrival of the planetara would cause any real comment. No one was searching for us. No one was worried over us. No wonder the crafty Miko was willing to take his chances out here in the lunar wilds. His ship, his reinforcements, his weapons were coming rapidly and we were helpless almost unarmed. Marooned here on the moon. End of chapter 22 chapter 23 of brigands of the moon. This is a livervox recording. All livervox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit livervox.org brigands of the moon by ray comings chapter 23 try it again snap urged good god johnny we've got to raise some earth station chance it use the power run it up full chance it we were gathered in grant mines instrument room the duty man with blanched grim face sat at his senders the grant mine crew shoved close around us there were very few observers in the high powered earth stations who knew that an exploring party was on the moon perhaps none of them the government officials who had sanctioned the expedition and Halsey and his confraris in the detective bureau were not anticipating trouble at this point the planetara was supposed to be well on her course to ferrick shahn it was when she was due to return that halsey would be alert grant line used his power far beyond the limits of safety he cut down the lights the telescope intensifiers and television were completely disconnected the ventilators were momentarily so that the air here in the little room crowded with men rapidly grew fetid all to save power pressure that the vital rent system might survive even so it was strained to the danger point our heat was radiating away the deadly chill of space crept in again ordered grant line the duty man flung on the power in rhythmic pulses in the silence the tubes hissed the lights praying through the banks of rotating prisms intensified up the scale until with a vague almost invisible beam it left the last swaying mirror and lept through our overhead dome and into space enough said grant line switch it off we'll let it go at that for now it seemed that every man in the room had been holding his breath in the chill darkness the lights came on again the errands motors accelerated to normal the strain on the walls eased up and the room began warming at the earth caught our signal we did not want to waste the power to find out our receivers were disconnected if an answering signal came we could not know it one of the men said let's assume they read us he laughed but it was a high-pitched tense laugh we don't dare even use the telescope or television or electron radio our rescue ship might be right overhead visible to the naked eye before we see it three days more that's what i'll give it but the three days passed and no rescue ship came the earth was almost at the full we tried signaling again perhaps it got through we did not know but our power was weaker now the wall of one of the rooms sprang a leak and the men were ours repairing it i did not say so but never once did i feel that our signals were read on earth those cursed clouds the earth almost everywhere seemed to have poor visibility four of our eight days of grace were all too soon passed the brigandship must be halfway here by now they were busy days for us if we could have captured miko and his band our danger would have been less imminent with the treasure insulated in our camp in darkness the arriving brigandship might never find us but miko knew our location he would signal his oncoming ship when it was close and lead it to us during those three days and the days which followed them grant lines send out searching parties but it was unavailing miko moa and coniston with their five underlings could not be found we had at first hope that the brigands might have perished but that was soon dispelled i went about the third day with the party that was sent to the planetara we wanted to salvage some of its equipment its unbroken power units and snap and i had worked out an idea which we thought might be of service we needed some of the planetara's smaller gravity plate sections those in grant lines wrecked little comet had stood so long that their radiations had gone dead but the planetara's were still working our hope that miko might have perished was dashed he too had returned to the planetara the evidence was clear before us the vessel was stripped of all of its power units saved those which were dead and useless the last of the food and water stores were taken the weapons in the chart room the Benson curve lights projectors and heat rays had vanished other days passed earth reached the full and was waning the 14-day lunar night was in its last half no rescue ship came from earth we had ceased our efforts to signal for we needed all our power to maintain ourselves the camp would be in a state of siege before long that was the best we could hope for we had a few short range weapons such as bensons heat rays and projectors a few hundred feet of effective range was the most any of them could obtain the heat rays in giant form one of the most deadly weapons on earth were only slowly efficacious on the airless moon striking an intensely cold surface their warming radiations were slow to act even in a blasting heat beam a man in his errands helmet suit could withstand the ray for several minutes we were however well equipped with explosives grant mine had brought a large supply for his mining operations and much of it was still unused we had also an ample stock of oxygen fuses and a variety of oxygen light flares in small fragile glass globes it was to use these explosives against the brigands that snap and i were working out our scheme with the gravity plates the brigandship would come with giant projectors and some 30 men if we could hold out against them for a time the fact that the planetara was missing would bring us help from earth another day a tenseness was upon all of us despite the absorption of our feverish activities to conserve power the camp was almost dark we lived in dim chill rooms with just a few weak spots of light outside to mark the watchman on the rounds we did not use the telescope but there was scarcely an hour when one or the other of the men was not sitting on a cross piece up in the dome of the little instrument room casting a tense searching gaze through his glasses into the black starry firmament a ship might appear at any time now a rescue ship from earth or the brigands from mars anita and venza through these days could aid us very little saved by their cheering words they moved about the rooms trying to inspire us so that all the men when they might have been humanly sullen and cursing their fate were turned to grim activity or grim laughter making a joke of the coming siege the morale of the camp now was perfect an improvement indeed over the inactivity of their former peaceful weeks grant mine mentioned it to me we'll put up a good fight haljan these fellows from mars will know they've had a task before they ever sail off with the treasure i had many moments alone with anita i need not mention them it seemed that our love was crossed by the stars with an adverse fate dooming it and snap and venza must have felt the same among the men we were always quietly grimly active but alone i came upon snap once with his arms around the little venus girl i heard him say a cursed luck that you and i should find each other too late venza we could have had a lot of fun in greater new york together snap we will as i turned away i murmured and pray god so will anita and i the girls slept together in a small room of the main building often during the time of sleep when the camp was stilled except for the night watch snap and i would sit in the corridor near the girl's door talking of that time when we would all be back on our blessed earth our eight days of grace were passed the brigandship was due now tomorrow or the next day i recall that night my sleep was fitfully uneasy snap and i had peccubbie together we talked and made futile plans i went to sleep but awakened after a few hours impending disaster lay heavily upon me but there was nothing abnormal nor unusual in that snap was asleep i was restless but i did not have the heart to awaken him he needed what little repose he could get i dressed left our cubby and wandered out into the corridor of the main building it was cold in the corridor and blew me with the weak blue light an interior watchman passed me all as usual haljan nothing in sight no they're watching i went through the connecting corridor to the adjacent building in the instrument room several of the men were gathered scanning the vault overhead nothing haljan i stayed with them a while then wandered away an outside man met me near the admission lock chambers of the main building the duty man here sat at his controls raising the air pressure in the locks through which the outside watchman was coming the relief sat here in his bloated suit with his helmet on his knees it was wilks nothing yet haljan i'm going up to the peak of the crater to see if anything is in sight i wish that damnable brigand ship would come and get it over with instinctively we all spoke in half whispers the tenseness bearing in on us the outside man was white and grim but he grinned at wilks he tried the familiar gesture don't let the earth light get you wilks went out through the ports a process of no more than a minute i wandered away again through the corridors i suppose it was half an hour later that i chanced to be gazing through a corridor window the lights along the rocky cliff were tiny blue spots the head of the stairway leading down to the abyss of the crater floor was visible the bloated figure of wilks was just coming up i watched him for a moment making his rounds he did not stop to inspect the lights that was routine i thought odd that he passed them another minute passed the figure of wilks went with slow bounds over record the back of the ledge where the glassite shelter housed the treasure it was all dark off there wilks went into the gloom but before i lost sight of him he came back as though he had changed his mind he headed for the foot of the staircase which led up the cliff to where at the peak of the little crater 500 feet above us the narrow observatory was perched he climbed with easy bounds the light on his helmet bobbing in the gloom i stood watching i could not tell why there seemed to be something queer about wilks's actions but i was struck with it nevertheless i watched him disappear over the summit another minute went by wilks did not reappear i thought i could make out his light on the platform up there then abruptly a tiny white beam was waving from the observatory platform it flashed once or twice then was extinguished and now i saw wilks plainly standing in the earth light gazing down queer actions had the earth light touched him or was that a local signal call which he had sent out why should wilks be signaling what was he doing with a hand helio our watchman i knew had no reason to carry one and to whom could wilks be signaling to whom across this lunar desolation the answer stabbed at me to miko's band i waited less than a moment no further light wilks was still up there i went back to the lock entrance spare helmets and suits were here beside the keeper he gazed at me inquiringly i'm going out frank just for a minute it struck me that perhaps i was a middle some fool wilks of all of grant line's men was i knew most in his commander's trust the signal could have been some part of his knight's ordinary routine for all i knew i was hastily donning an errant suit i added let me out i just got the idea wilks is acting strangely i laughed maybe the earth light has touched him with my helmet on i went through the locks once outside with the outer panel closed behind me i dropped the weights from my belt and shoes and extinguished my helmet light wilks was still up there apparently he had not moved i bounded off across the ledge to the foot of the ascending stairs did wilks see me coming i could not tell as i approached the stairs the platform was cut off from my line of vision i mounted with bounding leaps in my flexible gloved hand i carried my only weapon a small projector with firing caps for use in this outside near vacuum i held the weapon behind me i would talk to wilks first i went slowly up the last 100 feet was wilks still up there the summit was bathed in earth light the little metal observatory platform came into view above my head wilks was not there then i saw him standing on the rocks nearby motionless but in a moment he saw me coming i waved my left hand with a gesture of greeting it seemed to me that he started made as though to leap away then changed his mind i sailed from the head of the staircase with a 20 foot leap and landed lightly beside him i gripped his arm for audio phone contact wilks through my visor his face was visible i saw him and he saw me and i heard his voice you halogen how nice it was not wilks but the brigand coniston end of chapter 23 chapter 24 of brigands of the moon this is a liberbox recording all the liberbox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit liberbox.org brigands of the moon by ray comings chapter 24 the duty man at the exit locks stood at his window and watched me curiously he saw me go up the spider stairs he could see the figure he thought was wilks standing at the top he saw me join wilks saw us locked together in combat for a brief instant the duty man stood amazed there were two fantastic figures fighting at the very brink of the cliff they were small dwarfed by distance alternately dim and bright as they swayed in and out of the shadows the duty man could not tell one from the other to him it was halogen and wilks fighting to the death the duty man sprang into action an interior siren call was on the instrument panel near him he rang it frantically the men came rushing to him grant mine among them what's this good god frank they had seen the silent dead the combat up there on the cliff grant mine stood stricken with amazement that's wilks and halogen the duty man gasped he went out something wrong with wilks actions the interior of the camp was in a turmoil the men awakened from sleep ran out into the quarters shouting questions an attack is it an attack the brigands but it was wilks and halogen in a fight up there on the cliff the men crowded at the bullseye windows and over all the confusion the alarm siren with no one thinking to shut it off was screaming grant line momentarily stricken stood gazing one of the figures broke away from the other bounded up to the summit from the stair platform to which they had both fallen the other followed they locked together swaying at the brink for an instant it seemed that they would go over then they surged back momentarily out of sight grant line found his wits stop them i'll go out and stop them what fools he was hastily donning one of the errant suits cut off that siren within a minute grant line was ready the duty man called from the window still at it the fools by the infernal they'll kill themselves frank let me out i'll go with you commander but the volunteer was not equipped grant line would not wait the duty man turned to his panel the volunteer shoved a weapon at grant line grant line jammed on his helmet took the weapon he moved the few steps into the air chamber which was the first of the three pressure locks its interior door panel swung open for him but the door did not close after him cursing the man's slowness he waited a few seconds then he turned to the corridor the duty man came running grant line took off his helmet what in hell broken dead what smashed from outside gasped the duty man look there my tubes the control tubes of the ports had flashed into a short circuit and burned out the admission ports would not open and the pressure controls smashed broken from outside there was now no way of getting through the pressure locks the doors the entire pressure lock system was dead had it been tampered with from outside as if to answer grant lines questions there came a chorus of shouts from the man at the corridor windows commander by god look a figure was outside close to the building clothed in suit and helmet it stood bloated and gigantic it had evidently been lurking at the port entrance had ripped out the wires there it moved past the windows saw the staring faces of the men and made off with giant bounds grant line reached the window in time to see it vanish around the building corner it was a giant figure larger than an earth man a Martian up on the summit of the crater the two small figures were still fighting all this turmoil had taken no more than a minute or two a lurking Martian outside the brigand Miko more than ever grant line was determined to get out he shouted to his men to don some of the other suits and called for some of the hand projectors but he could not get out through these main admission ports he could have forced the panels open perhaps but with the pressure changing mechanism broken it would merely let the air out of the corridor a rush of air probably uncontrollable as serious the damage was no one could tell us yet it would perhaps take hours to repair it grant line was shouting get those weapons there's a Martian outside the brigand leader probably get into your suits anyone who wants to go with me will go by the manual emergency exit but the prowling Martian had found it within a minute grant line was there it was a smaller two lock gateway of manual control so that the person going out could operate it himself it was in a corridor at the other end of the main building but grant line was too late the lever would not open the panels had someone gone out this way and broken the mechanisms after him a traitor in the camp or had someone come in from outside or had the skulking Martian outside broken this lock as he had broken the other the questions surged on grant line his men crowded around him the news spread the camp was a prison no one could get out and outside the skulking Martian had disappeared but wilks and haljin were still fighting grant line could see the two figures up on the observatory platform they bounded apart then together again crazily swaying bouncing striking the rail they went together in a great leap off the platform onto the rocks and rolled in a bright patch of earth light first one on top then the other they rolled unheating to the brink here beyond the midway ledge which held the camp it was a sheer drop of a thousand feet on down to the crater floor the figures were rolling then one shook himself loose rose up seized the other and with desperate strength shoved him the victorious figure drew back to safety the other fell hurtling down into the shadows past the camp level down out of sight in the darkness of the crater floor snap who was in the group near grant line at the window gasp god was that gray who fell no one could say no one answered outside on the camp ledge another helmeted figure now became visible it was not far from the main building when grant mine first noticed it it was running fast bounding toward the spider staircase it began mounting and now still another figure became visible the giant martian again he appeared from around the corner of the main grant line building he evidently saw the winner of the combat on the cliff who now was standing in the earth light gazing down and he saw to no doubt the second figure mounting the stairs he stood quite near the window through which grant line and his men were gazing with his back to the building looking up to the summit then he ran with tremendous leaps toward the ascending staircase was it haljan standing up there on the summit who was it climbing the stairs and was the third figure meiko grant line's mind framed the questions but his attention was torn from them and torn even from the swift silent drama outside the corridor was ringing with shouts we're imprisoned can't get out was haljan killed the brigands are outside and then an interior audio phone blared at calling for grant line someone in the instrument room of the adjoining building was talking commander i tried the telescope to see who got killed but he did not say who got killed for he had greater news commander the brigands shipped meiko's reinforcements had come end of chapter 24 chapter 25 of brigands of the moon this is a liber vox recording all liber vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libervox.org recording by aamie graymore brigands of the moon by ray cummings chapter 25 not wilks but coniston his drawing british voice you greg haljan how nice his voice broke off as he jerked his arm for me my hand with the projector came up but with a sweeping blow he struck my wrist the weapon dropped to the rocks i fought instinctively those first moments my mind was whirling with the shock of surprise this was not wilks but the brigand coniston it was an eerie combat he swayed shoving kicking wrestling his holder on my middle shut off the errant circulation the warning buzz rang in my ears to mingle with the rasp of his curses i flung him off and my errant's motors recovered he staggered away but in a great leap came at me i was taller heavier and far stronger than coniston but i found him crafty and where i was awkward in handling my lightness he seemed more skillfully agile i became aware that we were on the 20-foot square grid of the observatory platform it had a low-metal railing we surged against it i caught a dizzying glimpse of the abyss then it receded as we bounced the other way and then we fell to the grid his helmet bashed against mine striking as though budding with the side of his head to puncture my visor panel his gloved fingers were clutching at my throat as we regained our feet i flung him off and bounded like a diver headfirst into him he went backward but skillfully kept his feet under him gripped me again and shoved me i was tottering at the head of the staircase falling but i clutched at him we fell some 20 or 30 feet to the next lower spider landing the impact must have dazed us both i recall my vague idea that we must have fallen down the cliff my air shut off then it came again the roaring in my ears was still my head cleared and i found that we were on the landing fighting he presently broke away from me bounded to the summit with me after him and the close confines of the suit i was bathed in sweat and gasping i had no thought to increase the oxygen control i could not find it or would not operate i realized that i was fighting sluggishly almost aimlessly but so was coniston it seemed dreamlike a phantasmagoria of blows and staggering steps a nightmare with only the horrible vision of his goggle helmet always before my eyes it seemed that we were rolling on the ground back on the summit the unshattered earth light was clear and bright the abyss beside me coniston rolling was now on top now under me trying to shove me over the brink it was all like a dream as though i were asleep dreaming that i did not have enough air i strove to keep my senses he was struggling to roll me over the brink god that would not do but i was so tired one could not fight without oxygen i suddenly knew that i had shaken him off and gained my feet he rose swaying he was as tired confused as nearly asphyxiated as i the brink of the abyss was behind us i lunged desperately shoving avoiding his clutch he went over and fell soundlessly his body whirling end over end down into the shadows far below i drew back my senses faded as i sank panting to the rocks but with inactivity my heart quieted my respiration slowed the airman circulation gained on my poisoned air purified that blessed oxygen my head cleared strength came i felt better coniston had fallen to his death i was victor i went to the brink cautiously for i was still dizzy i could see fire down there on the crater floor a little patch of earth light in which a mashed human figure was lying i staggered back again a moment or two must have passed while i stood there on the summit with my senses clearing and my strength renewed as the bloodstream cleared in my veins i was victor coniston was dead i saw now down on the lower staircase below the camp ledge another goggled figure lying huddled that was wilks no doubt coniston had probably caught him there surprised him killed him my attention as i stood gazing went down to the camp buildings another figure was outside it bounded along the ledge reached the foot of the stairs at the top of which i was standing with agile leaps it came mounting at me another brigand meeko no it was not large enough to be meeko i was still confused i thought of han but that was absurd han was in the wreck of the planet terra one of the stewards then the figure came up the staircase recklessly to assail me i took a step backward bracing myself to receive this new antagonist and then i looked further down and saw meeko unquestionably he for there was no mistaking his giant figure he was down on the camp ledge running toward the foot of the stairs i thought of my revolver i turned to try and find it i was aware that the first of my assailants was at the stairhead i swung back to see what this oncoming brigand was doing he was on the summit with a sailing leap he launched for me i could have bounded away but with a last look to locate my revolver i braced myself for the shock the figure hit me it was small and light in my clutching arms i recall i saw that meeko was halfway up the stairs i gripped my assailant the audio phone contact brought a voice reg is it you it was a nita end of chapter 25 chapter 26 of brigands of the moon this is a liberbox recording all liberbox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit liberbox.org brigands of the moon by ray comings chapter 26 greg you're safe she had heard the camp corridors resounding with the shouts that wilks and haljin were fighting she had come upon a suit and helmet by the manual emergency lock had run out through the lock confused with her only idea to stop wilks and me from fighting then she had seen one of us killed impulsively barely knowing what she was doing she mounted the stairs frantic to find out if i were alive anita meeko was coming fast she had not seen him for she had no thought of brigands only the belief that either wilks or i had been killed but now as we stood together on the rocks near the observatory platform i could see the towering figure of meeko nearing the top of the stairs anita that's meeko we must run then i saw my projector it lay in a bowl like depression quite near us i jumped for it and as i tore loose from anita she leaped down after me it was a broken bowl in the rocks some six feet deep it was open on one side facing the stairs a narrow ravine-like gully full of gray broken tumbled rock masses the little gully was littered with crags and boulders but i could see out through it meeko had come to the head of the stairs he stopped there his great figure etched sharply by the earth light i think he must have known that coniston was the one who had fallen over the cliff as my helmet and conistans were different enough for him to recognize which was which he did not know who i was but he did know me for an enemy he stood now at the summit appearing to see where we had gone he was no more than 50 feet from us anita lie down i pulled her down on the rocks i took aim with my projector but i had forgotten our helmet lights meeko must have seen them just as i pulled the trigger he jumped sideways and dropped but i could see him moving in the shadows to where a jetting rock gave him shelter i fired missing him again i had stood up to take aim anita pulled me sharply down beside her greg he's armed it was his turn to fire it came the familiar vague flash of the paralyzing ray it spat its tint of color on the rocks near us but did not reach us a moment later meeko bounded to another rock time passed only a few seconds i could not see meeko momentarily perhaps he was crouching perhaps he had moved away again he was or had been on slightly higher ground in the bottom of our bowl it was dim down here where we were lying but i feared that any moment meeko might appear and strike at us his ray at any short range would penetrate our visor pains even though our suits might temporarily resist it anita it's too dangerous here had i been alone i might perhaps have leapt up to lure meeko but with anita i did not dare chance it we've got to get back to camp i told her perhaps he is gone but he had not we saw him again out in a distant patch of earth light he was further from us than before but on still higher ground we had extinguished our small helmet lights but he knew we were here and possibly he could see us his projector flashed again he was a hundred feet or more away now and his weapon was of no longer range than mine i did not answer his fire for i could not hope to hit him at such a distance and the flash of my weapon would help him to locate us i murmured to anita we must get away yet how did i dare take anita from these concealing shadows meeko could reach us so easily as we bounded away in plain view in earth light of the open summit we were caught at bay in this little bowl the camp was not visible from here but out through the broken gully a white beam of light suddenly came up from below haljin it spelled the signal it was coming from the grant line instrument room i knew i could answer it with my helmet light but i did not dare try it urged anita we crouched where we thought we might be saved from meeko's fire my little light beam shot up from the bowl it was undoubtedly visible to the camp yes i am haljin send us help i did not mention anita meeko doubtless could read these signals they answered cannot i lost the rest of it there came a flash from meeko's weapon it gave us confidence he was unable to reach us at this distance the grant line beam repeated cannot come out ports broken you cannot get in stay where you are for an hour or two we may be able to repair ports i extinguished my light what use was it to tell grant line anything further besides my light was endangering us but the grant line beam spelled another message brigandship is coming it will be here before we can get out to you no lights we will try and hide our location and the signal beam brought a last appeal meeko and his men will divulge where we are unless you can stop them the beam vanished the lights of the grant mine camp made a faint glow that showed above the crater edge the glow died as the camp now was plunged into darkness end of chapter 26 chapter 27 of brigands of the moon this is a liver vox recording all liver vox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit livervox.org brigands of the moon by ray Cummings chapter 27 we crouched in the shadows the earth light filtering down to us the skulking figure of meeko had vanished but i was sure he was out there somewhere on the crags lurking maneuvering to where he could strike us with his ray Anita's metal gloved hand was on my arm in my ear diaphragm her voice sounded eager what was the signal Greg i told her everything oh Greg the Martian ship coming her mind clung to that is the most important thing but not so myself to me there was only the realization that Anita was caught out here almost at the mercy of mekos ray grant lines man could not get out to help us nor could i get Anita into the camp she added where do you suppose the ship is 20 or 30 000 miles up probably the stars and the earth were visible over us somewhere up there disclosed by grant lines instruments but not yet discernible to the naked eye mekos reinforcements were hovering we lay for a moment in silence it was horribly nervous draining mekos could be creeping up on us would he dare chance my sudden fire creeping or would he make a swift unexpected rush the feeling that he was upon us abruptly swept me i jumped to my feet against Anita's effort to hold me where was he now was my imagination playing me tricks i sank back that ship should be here in a few hours i told her what grant lines signal had suggested the ship was hovering overhead it must be fairly close for grant lines telescope had revealed its identity as an outlaw flyer unmarked by any of the standard code identification lights it was doubtless too far away as yet to have located the whereabouts of grant lines camp the martian brigands knew that we were in the vicinity of Archimedes but no more than that searching this glowing moon surface our tiny local semaphore beams would certainly pass unnoticed but as the brigands ship approached now dropping close to Archimedes as it probably would our danger was that Miko and his men would then signal it join it and reveal the camp's location and the brigand attack would be upon us i told this now to Anita the signal from grant line said unless you can stop them it was an appeal to me but how could i stop them what could i do alone out here with Anita to cope with this enemy Anita made no comment i added that ship will land near Archimedes within an hour or two if grant line can repair the ports and i can get you inside again she made no comment then suddenly she gripped me greg look there out through the gully break in our bowl the figure of Miko showed he was running but not at us circling the summit leaping to keep himself behind the upstanding crags he passed the head of the staircase he did not descend it but headed off along the summit of the crater room i stood up to watch him where's he going i let Anita stand up beside me cautiously at first for it occurred to me it might be a ruse to cover some other of Miko's men who might be lurking near but the summit seemed clear the figure of Miko was a thousand feet away now we could see the tiny blob of it bobbing over the rocks then it plunged down not into the crater valley but out toward the open moon surface Miko had abandoned his attack on us the reason seemed plain he had come here from his encampment with coniston ahead to lure and kill wilks when this was done coniston had flashed his signal to Miko who was hiding nearby it was not like the brigand leader to remain in the background Miko was no coward but coniston could impersonate wilks whereas Miko's giant stature at once would reveal his identity Miko had been engaged in smashing the ports he had looked up and seen me kill coniston he had come to assail me and then he had read grant line's message to me it was his first knowledge that his ship was at hand with the camp exits in operative grant line and his men were imprisoned Miko had made an effort to kill me he did not know my companion was Anita but the effort was taking too long with his ship at hand it was Miko's best move to return to his own camp rejoin his men and await their opportunity to signal the ship at least so i reasoned it Anita and i stood alone what could we do we went to the brink of the cliff the unlighted grant line buildings showed vaguely in the earth light i said we'll go down i'll leave you there you can wait at the port they'll repair it soon and what will you do greg i did not intend to tell her hurry Anita greg let me go with you she jerked away from me and bounded back up the stairs i caught her on the summit Anita i'm going with you you're going to stay here i'm not this exasperating controversy Anita please i'll be safer with you than waiting here greg and she added besides i won't stay and you can't make me we ran along the crater top at its distant edge the lower plain spread before us far down and far away on the distant broken surface the leaping figure of Miko showed he plunged down the broken outer slope reached the level soon as we ran the little grant line crater faded behind us Anita ran more skillfully than i ten minutes or so past we had seen Miko in the direction he was taking but down here on the plane we could no longer see him it struck me that our chase was purposeless and dangerous suppose Miko were to see us following him suppose he stopped and lay an ambush to fire at us as we came leaping heedlessly by Anita wait i drew her down amid a group of tumbled boulders and then abruptly she clung to me greg i know what we can do greg don't tell me you won't let me try it i listened to her plan incredible incredibly dangerous yet as i pondered it the very daring of the scheme seen the measure of its possible success the brigands would never imagine we could be so rash but Anita greg you're stupid it was her turn to be exasperated but i was in no mood for daring my mind was obsessed with Anita's safety i had been planning that we might see the glow of Miko's encampment and decide on some course of action but greg the safety of the treasure of all the grant line men to the infernal with that it's you your safety my safety then if you put me in the camp and the brigands attack it and i am killed what then but this plan of mine if we can do it greg will mean safety in the end for all of us and it seemed possible we crouched discussing it so daring a thing the brigandship would come down your archimedes that was 50 miles from grant line the brigands from mars would not have seen the dark grant line buildings hidden in the little crater pit they would wait for Miko and his men to make their whereabouts known Miko's encampment was ahead of us now undoubtedly we had been following him toward the mar imbriam or at least we hoped so he would signal his ship but Anita and i closer to it would also signal it and posing as brigands would join it remember greg i remain Anita Prince George's sister her voice trembled as she mentioned her dead brother they know that George was in Miko's pay and i as his sister will help to convince them this daring scheme if we could join the ship we might be able to persuade its leader that Miko's distant signals were merely a ruse of grant line to lure the brigands in that direction a long-range projector from the ship would kill Miko and his men as they came forward to join it and then we would falsely direct the brigands lead them away from grant line and the treasure greg we must try it heaven helped me i yielded to her persuasion we turned out right angles and ran toward where the distant frowning walls of our comedies loomed against the starlit sky end of chapter 27