by Ray Cummings
XXV
Not Wilks, but Coniston! His drawling, British voice:
"You, Gregg Haljan! How nice!"
His voice broke off as he jerked his arm from me. My hand with theprojector came up, but with a sweeping blow he struck my wrist. Theweapon dropped to the rocks.
I fought instinctively, those first moments; my mind was whirling withthe shock of surprise. This was not Wilks, but the brigand Coniston.
It was an eerie combat. We swayed; shoving, kicking, wrestling. Hishold around my middle shut off the Erentz circulation; the warningbuzz rang in my ears, to mingle with the rasp of his curses. I flunghim off, and my Erentz motors recovered. He staggered away, but in agreat leap came at me again.
I was taller, heavier and far stronger than Coniston. But I found himcrafty, and where I was awkward in handling my lightness, he seemedmore skillfully agile.
I became aware that we were on the twenty foot square grid of theobservatory platform. It had a low metal railing. We surged againstit. I caught a dizzying glimpse of the abyss. Then it receded as webounced the other way. And then we fell to the grid. His helmet bashedagainst mine, striking as though butting with the side of his head topuncture my visor panel. His gloved fingers were clutching at mythroat.
As we regained our feet, I flung him off, and bounded like a diver,head first, into him. He went backward, but skillfully kept his feetunder him, gripped me again and shoved me.
I was tottering at the head of the staircase--falling. But I clutchedat him. We fell some twenty or thirty feet to be next lower spiderlanding. The impact must have dazed us both. I recall my vague ideathat we must have fallen down the cliff.... My air shut off--then itcame again. The roaring in my ears was stilled; my head cleared, and Ifound that we were on the landing, fighting.
He presently broke away from me, bounded to the summit with me afterhim. In the close confines of the suit I was bathed in sweat andgasping. I had no thought to increase the oxygen control. I could notfind it; or it would not operate.
I realized that I was fighting sluggishly, almost aimlessly. But sowas Coniston!
It seemed dreamlike. A phantasmagoria of blows and staggering steps. Anightmare with only the horrible vision of this goggled helmet alwaysbefore my eyes.
It seemed that we were rolling on the ground, back on the summit. Theunshadowed Earthlight was clear and bright. The abyss was beside me.Coniston, rolling, was now on top, now under me, trying to shove meover 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 thebrink. God, that would not do! But I was so tired. One cannot fightwithout 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 enddown into the shadows, far below.
I drew back. My senses faded as I sank panting to the rocks. But withinactivity, my heart quieted. My respiration slowed. The Erentzcirculation gained on my poisoned air. It 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 brinkcautiously, for I was still dizzy. I could see, far down there on thecrater floor, a little patch of Earthlight in which a mashed humanfigure was lying.
I staggered back again. A moment or two must have passed while I stoodthere on the summit, with my senses clearing and my strength renewedas the blood stream cleared in my veins.
I was victor. Coniston was dead. I saw now, down on the lowerstaircase 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 thefoot of the stairs at the top of which I was standing. With agileleaps, it came mounting at me!
Another brigand! Miko? No, it was not large enough to be Miko. I wasstill confused. I thought of Hahn. But that was absurd: Hahn was inthe wreck of the _Planetara_. One of the stewards then....
The figure came up the staircase recklessly, to assail me. I took astep backward, bracing myself to receive this new antagonist. And thenI looked further down and saw Miko! Unquestionably he, for there wasno mistaking his giant figure. He was down on the camp ledge, runningtoward the foot of the stairs.
I thought of my revolver. I turned to try and find it. I was awarethat the first of my assailants was at the stairhead. I swung back tosee what this oncoming brigand was doing. He was on the summit: with asailing leap he launched for me. I could have bounded away, but with alast look to locate the revolver, I braced myself for the shock.
The figure hit me. It was small and light in my clutching arms. Irecall I saw that Miko was halfway up the stairs. I gripped myassailant. The audiphone contact brought a voice.
"Gregg, is it you?"
It was Anita!