by Ray Cummings
XXIII
"Try it again," Snap urged. "Good God, Johnny, we've got to raise someEarth station! Chance it! Use the power--run it up full. Chance it!"
We were gathered in Grantline's instrument room. The duty man, withblanched grim face, sat at his senders. The Grantline crew shovedclose around us. There were very few observers in the high-poweredEarth stations who knew that an exploring party was on the Moon.Perhaps none of them. The Government officials who had sanctioned theexpedition and Halsey and his confreres in the Detective Bureau werenot anticipating trouble at this point. The _Planetara_ was supposedto be well on her course to Ferrok-Shahn. It was when she was due toreturn that Halsey would be alert.
Grantline used his power far beyond the limits of safety. He cut downthe lights; the telescope intensifiers and television were completelydisconnected; the ventilators were momentarily stilled, so that theair here in the little room crowded with men rapidly grew fetid. All,to save power pressure, that the vital Erentz system might survive.
Even so, it was strained to the danger point. Our heat was radiatingaway; the deadly chill of space crept in.
"Again!" ordered Grantline.
The duty man flung on the power in rhythmic pulses. In the silence,the tubes hissed. The light sprang through the banks of rotatingprisms, intensified up the scale until, with a vague, almost invisiblebeam, it left the last swaying mirror and leaped through our overheaddome and into space.
"Enough," said Grantline. "Switch it off. We'll let it go at that fornow."
It seemed that every man in the room had been holding his breath inthe chill darkness. The lights came on again; the Erentz motorsaccelerated to normal. The strain on the walls eased up, and the roombegan warming.
Had the Earth caught our signal? We did not want to waste the power tofind out. Our receivers were disconnected. If an answering signalcame, 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. Orelectron radio. Our rescue ship might be right overhead, visible tothe naked eye, before we see it. Three days more--that's what I'llgive it."
But the three days passed and no rescue ship came. The Earth wasalmost at the full. We tried signaling again. Perhaps it gotthrough--we did not know. But our power was weaker now. The wall ofone of the rooms sprang a leak, and the men were hours repairing it. Idid not say so, but never once did I feel that our signals were readon Earth. Those cursed clouds! The Earth almost everywhere seemed tohave poor visibility.
Four of our eight days of grace were all too soon passed. The brigandship must be half way here by now.
They were busy days for us. If we could have captured Miko and hisband, our danger would have been less imminent. With the treasureinsulated, and our camp in darkness, the arriving brigand ship mightnever find us. But Miko knew our location; he would signal hisoncoming ship when it was close and lead it to us.
During those three days--and the days which followed them--Grantlinesent out searching parties. But it was unavailing. Miko, Moa andConiston, with their five underlings, could not be found.
We had at first hoped that the brigands might have perished. But thatwas soon dispelled! I went--about the third day--with the party thatwas sent to the _Planetara_. We wanted to salvage some of itsequipment, its unbroken power units. And Snap and I had worked out anidea which we thought might be of service. We needed some of the_Planetara's_ smaller gravity plate sections. Those in Grantline'swrecked little _Comet_ had stood so long that their radiations hadgone dead. But the _Planetara's_ were still working.
Our hope that Miko might have perished was dashed. He too had returnedto the _Planetara_! The evidence was clear before us. The vessel wasstripped of all its power units save those which were dead anduseless. The last of the food and water stores were taken. The weaponsin the chart room--the Benson curve lights, projectors and heatrays--had vanished!
Other days passed. Earth reached the full and was waning. The fourteenday 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 tomaintain 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 ofeffective range was the most any of them could obtain. Theheat-rays--in giant form one of the most deadly weapons on Earth--wereonly slowly efficacious on the airless Moon. Striking an intenselycold surface, their warming radiations were slow to act. Even in ablasting heat beam a man in his Erentz helmet-suit could withstand theray for several minutes.
We were, however, well equipped with explosives. Grantline had broughta large supply for his mining operations, and much of it was stillunused. We had, also, an ample stock of oxygen fuses, and a variety ofoxygen light flares in small, fragile glass globes.
It was to use these explosives against the brigands that Snap and Iwere working out our scheme with the gravity plates. The brigand shipwould come with giant projectors and some thirty men. If we could holdout against them for a time, the fact that the _Planetara_ was missingwould bring us help from Earth.
Another day. A tenseness was upon all of us, despite the absorption ofour feverish activities. To conserve power, the camp was almost dark,we lived in dim, chill rooms, with just a few weak spots of lightoutside to mark the watchmen on their rounds. We did not use thetelescope, but there was scarcely an hour when one or the other of themen was not sitting on a cross-piece up in the dome of the littleinstrument room, casting a tense, searching gaze through his glassesinto the black, starry firmament. A ship might appear at any timenow--a rescue ship from Earth, or the brigands from Mars.
Anita and Venza through these days could aid us very little save bytheir cheering words. They moved about the rooms, trying to inspireus; so that all the men, when they might have been humanly sullen andcursing their fate, were turned to grim activity, or grim laughter,making a joke of the coming siege. The morale of the camp now wasperfect. An improvement indeed over the inactivity of their formerpeaceful weeks!
Grantline mentioned it to me. "Well put up a good fight, Haljan. Thesefellows from Mars will know they've had a task before they ever sailoff with the treasure."
I had many moments alone with Anita. I need not mention them. Itseemed that our love was crossed by the stars, with an adverse fatedooming it. And Snap and Venza must have felt the same. Among the men,we were always quietly, grimly active. But alone.... I came upon Snaponce with his arms around the little Venus girl. I heard him say:
"Accursed luck! That you and I should find each other too late, Venza.We could have 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. Oftenduring the time of sleep, when the camp was stilled except for thenight watch, Snap and I would sit in the corridor near the girls'door, talking of that time when we would all be back on our blessedEarth.
Our eight days of grace were passed. The brigand ship was due--now,tomorrow, or the next day.
I recall, that night, my sleep was fitfully uneasy. Snap and I had acubby together. We talked, and made futile plans. I went to sleep, butawakened 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 toawaken him. He needed what little repose he could get. I dressed, leftour cubby and wandered out into the corridor of the main building.
It was cold in the corridor, and gloomy with the weak blue light. Aninterior watchman passed me.
"All as usual, Haljan."
"Nothing in sight?"
"No. They're watching."
I went through the connecting corridor to the adjacent building. Inthe instrument room several of the men were gathered, scanning thevault ove
rhead.
"Nothing, Haljan."
I stayed with them awhile, then wandered away. An outside man met menear the admission lock chambers of the main building. The duty manhere sat at his controls, raising the air pressure in the locksthrough which the outside watchman was coming. The relief sat here inhis 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 ifanything is in sight. I wish that damnable brigand ship would come andget it over with."
Instinctively we all spoke in half whispers, the tenseness bearing inon us.
The outside man was white and grim, but he grinned at Wilks. He triedthe familiar jest: "Don't let the Earthlight 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 gazingthrough a corridor window. The lights along the rocky cliff were tinyblue spots. The head of the stairway leading down to the abyss of thecrater floor was visible. The bloated figure of Wilks was just comingup. I watched him for a moment making his rounds. He did not stop toinspect the lights. That was routine. I thought it odd that he passedthem.
Another minute passed. The figure of Wilks went with slow bounds overtoward the back of the ledge where the glassite shelter housed thetreasure. It was all dark off there. Wilks went into the gloom, butbefore I lost sight of him, he came back. As though he had changed hismind, he headed for the foot of the staircase which led up the cliffto where, at the peak of the little crater, five hundred feet aboveus, 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 somethingqueer about Wilks' actions. But I was struck with it, nevertheless. Iwatched him disappear over the summit.
Another minute went by. Wilks did not reappear. I thought I could makeout his light on the platform up there. Then abruptly a tiny whitebeam was waving from the observatory platform! It flashed once ortwice, then was extinguished. And now I saw Wilks plainly, standing inthe Earthlight, gazing down.
Queer actions! Had the Earthlight touched him? Or was that a localsignal call which he sent out? Why should Wilks be signaling? What washe doing with a hand helio? Our watchmen, I knew, had no reason tocarry one.
And to whom could Wilks be signaling? To whom, across this Lunardesolation? The answer stabbed at me: to Miko's band!
I waited less than a moment. No further light. Wilks was still upthere!
I went back to the lock entrance. Spare helmets and suits were herebeside the keeper. He gazed at me inquiringly.
"I'm going out, Franck. Just for a minute." It struck me that perhapsI was a meddlesome fool. Wilks, of all of Grantline's men, was, Iknew, most in his commander's trust. The signal could have been somepart of this night's ordinary routine, for all I knew.
I was hastily donning an Erentz suit. I added, "Let me out. I just gotthe idea Wilks is acting strangely." I laughed. "Maybe the Earthlighthas touched him."
With my helmet on, I went through the locks. Once outside, with theouter panel closed behind me, I dropped the weights from my belt andshoes and extinguished my helmet light.
Wilks was still up there. Apparently he had not moved. I bounded offacross the ledge to the foot of the ascending stairs. Did Wilks see mecoming? I could not tell. As I approached the stairs the platform wascut off from my line of vision.
I mounted with bounding leaps. In my flexible gloved hand I carried myonly weapon, a small projector with firing caps for use in thisoutside near-vacuum.
I held the weapon behind me. I would talk to Wilks first. I wentslowly up the last hundred feet. Was Wilks still up there? The summitwas bathed in Earthlight. The little metal observatory platform cameinto 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 thathe started, made as though to leap away, and then changed his mind. Isailed from the head of the staircase with a twenty foot leap andlanded lightly beside him. I gripped his arm for audiphone contact.
"Wilks!"
Through my visor his face was visible. I saw him and he saw me. And Iheard his voice:
"You, Haljan. How nice!"
It was not Wilks, but the brigand Coniston.