Small laughed, enjoying the situation. “Why feed the dead?” he wanted to know. And now he demonstrated his reason for not permitting the armies to decamp. Treat was sent to the rear of the green army, while Small hurried through the Pass. Our party was ordered to ascend the mountain to the right, to take places facing the valley “to see the show” as Small put it. Beale, armed with a knife, was ordered to “stick” any of us who might attempt escape.
A whistle sounded across the valley, and simultaneously, at either side of the battlefield we heard the rat-tat-tat of the explosive guns. We realized now what Small was up to, what his big show was to be. He was driving his copper men through the Pass while Treat drove the green army toward them. For Small intended to see the end of the battle of the previous day, urging the armies forward with his and Treat’s guns!
That all the fight was gone from the Lilliputians was evident when the two bands met. They stood facing each other with spears and bows hanging limply from their hands. Small went into a rage when he saw how matters lay. From his lips came a single word “Daccor!” It was the native word for fight, and he meant business. A salvo of gun-fire accompanied his cry, biting deeply into the copper ranks, while Treat did as much for the green.
The poor little things were to be pitied. They were doomed whatever way you looked at it. Apathetically the foremost warriors raised their bows. They seemed to prefer the poison arrows of their own kind to the terrible explosive bullets of the giants. And as long as they made a pretence of battle Small and Treat withheld their fire. For more than two hours this went on. Each time the armies sought to lay down their arms in common consent the bullets were among them, tearing them to pieces. They were not fighting with their hearts, in it, but fearfully, machine-like.
It was an ugly thing to watch, but the four of us on the hill were powerless to stop it. Once Thail called out to remonstrate with Small. His answer was a bullet over his head, and if we tried to turn our heads away from the slaughter Beale was there with his knife, probing us so that we had to keep heads forward, eyes open. Willa March was moaning in pity for the little people, and the rest of us cursed hotly as a vent to our own emotions. After a while Bevel whispered to me. “If they keep it up long enough, all their bullets will be gone.” But I shook my head, for I could see that Small had slung a cartridge belt around his waist, and each cartridge case held a hundred tiny rounds.
At last Small tired of his play. He had revenged himself for his days of thralldom. Thousands of Lilliputians were down. They were fighting at the wall breech, neither gaining nor losing, glancing backward in terror now and then at the pair of giants whose appetite for bloodshed seemed to have no end. Suddenly, however, Small yelled to Treat. “Empty your gun into ’em, and we’ll call it a day.” And suiting the action to the word he poured what bullets remained in his gun into the ranks of the Jovians with Treat doing the same. Wading through the little people, purposely not looking where he stepped so that many died under his feet, Small came toward us. He was reloading his revolver the while.
“Forward!” he called to us and started from the valley through the defile. Heavily the four of us reared our bulks to our feet, and shambled after him while Treat and Bale came up in the rear. We entered a second wide valley and from there the country changed in aspect, the hills giving way to a flat wide plain which the copper men had cultivated intensively. Far to our right was the gleam of water, a sizable lake, and on this side of it stretched a wide marsh land, about an hour’s walk away. In the meadow land were a number of sprawling villages, deserted as we came upon them; the news of our approach having gone ahead of us.
CHAPTER VII
The Plot Begins
l Regardless of the fact that he trod on growing crops.
Small pushed on, calling for Beale to direct us toward his ship. Our way took us directly through one village, but that did not deter Small from treading upon it, his feet crashing through the flimsy roofs and walls of the houses. The rest of us tried not to step on them since we were sure they were filled with tiny women and children.
Beale had pointed the direction in which his disabled ship lay in the swamp. We found the ship half buried in mud, but except for a dent in its nose it seemed in good shape. It was lying about a hundred yards from firm ground, but a small forest grew on the edge of the boggy ground. Thail, Bevel and I, were put to work tearing up enough trees to form a path to the ship. The three renegades stood by while we toiled, although with their regulators they could have done the job in a third of the time.
Small was first in the ship, and the rest of us followed, glad to feel the habiliments of civilization around us once more. Since there was no electricity for cooking it necessitated building a small fire outside to cook the canned stuffs we found in the ship. There was water in the tanks and soon Willa March under orders from Small had coffee boiling. Never had their been a meal that tasted so good.
The Jovian night was near, and without lights except light torches there seemed nothing else to do but retire for some much needed sleep. Miss March, Thail, Bevel and I were shunted into a dark stateroom in which there were four bunks, and we heard the turn of a key as the door was shut upon us. Filthy though we were we dropped into the bunks. I heard the murmur of the girl’s voice mingled with that of Bevel’s, then I fell asleep.
A loud pounding on the door of our cell awakened me. The room had no porthole and was still inky black, but I saw the copperish daylight of Jupiter streaming into the corridor from the main chamber of the ship. Small was in there with Treat, the latter ineffectually tinkering with the dead motors. A glance showed me that most of the wiring was burned out, along with a number of used terminals and burnt-out fuses. Several hours should put the electric motors in order, but from the first I doubted that the Red Arrow, as the flyer was named, would ever lift itself from Jupiter’s broad bosom. As I have said, only the bulldogs and four tenman flyers of the Patrol were capable of carrying enough power to withstand Jupiter’s terrific forces.
Of this I said nothing to Small when he demanded if I could repair the damage. If he had forgotten what the silliest tyro should know, I wasn’t going to be the one to enlighten him. Repairing the electrical system was another thing, for then the ship’s gravity nullifiers could be utilized for the convenience of those not wearing the portable regulators; and there was the radio transmitter to be considered. Although every patrolman carried mechanic’s papers, Small knew very little about engines (as I have said before it was only his uncle’s influence that had made a patrolman of him), but he knew I was an expert electrician. And I could see that Treat knew but a little more than he. As a transport pilot-navigator it was not required of him to know the workings of the spaceship to which he was assigned.
“Get to work on this system, Denny, and no stalling,” was Small’s order, but I laughed at him.
“Without a regulator? Don’t be a fool. Fingers’re too clumsy, and wire working requires delicate handling . . .”
Small seemed less belligerent than the previous day and took no offense at my attitude. He simply called Beale to us, ordering him out of his regulator. Sullenly the pirate unstrapped the plates and handed the machine to me. I accepted the equipment with alacrity. My fingers seemed all thumbs as I flumbed with the plates. The regulator consists of a half a dozen ganan plates that are fastened in pairs to the body, one pair for the feet, one pair for the fore-arms and the other pair for the thighs. These are fastened by wires to the small thurla battery and generator worn between the shoulder blades. Ganan, a Venusian metal, is highly magnetic, and when activated by electricity creates an efficient electro-magnetic field around the wearer of the set. A switch under the arm controls gravity, or entirely shuts if off from the body of the wearer.
My fingers trembled at the switch. Then came the surge of new power as I moved the switch slowly to Earth-normal. The two hundred extra pounds were me like magic, and once more I could stand perfectly erect and lift my hands normally. Beale watched me du
mbly, again a slave to Jupiter. Small gave me no time to enjoy my new freedom.
“No funny business,” he averred. “I’m still boss around here, you know,” and he shook his gun in my face. “Get to work.”
He dropped into a chair where he could keep his gun-trained on me, calling out to Beale to arouse the others. Then thinking of something else that should be done he called to Treat to take his place and went outdoors. Shortly Miss March, Thail and Bevel appeared from the sleeping room. The girl was ordered to get some breakfast for us all, and Thail and Bevel were called outside. Soon the odor of wood-smoke mingled with that of coffee came to my nostrils, and I heard thumpings and shufflings from the outer shell of the flyer as under Small’s instructions, Thail and Bevel began to dig the ship out of the mud.
Without a trouble finder it wasn’t a nice job that faced me. With my fingers I had to trace out every foot of wire and search for burned-out fuses. Spare wires and parts were to be had in the storage room, but a hasty examination showed that the trouble could not be remedied in a few hours after all. Some past electrician had made a faulty job of wiring, and the terrific charge the ship had sustained in Jupiter’s clouds had not helped matters. When the falling pirate dropped against the main cable of the induction motor it had finished the job to a turn. To repair the damage I should have to take half the system apart.
Just before breakfast was ready Small came indoors to see how I was getting along. Again he repeated: “Remember, no funny business.” I glanced at him with impatience. “I guess I’m just as anxious to get through with this as you are.”
“You better be,” he rejoined, then he called Treat outside to discuss some further business with him.
l I heard the others gathered around the fire as they ate their breakfast, but I did not go to join them. Soon the girl came in with coffee and warmed beans. Her night’s sleep seemed not to do her much good. She was wan, and there were heavy rings under her eyes. It was with effort she lifted the dishes she carried to a bench near me, and I hurriedly took them from her. Her shoulders sagged, she could scarcely move one foot after the other. “Everything is so heavy . . .” she murmured. “Do . . . do you believe we can ever get away from here, Mr. Martin?”
“I hope so, Miss March,” I muttered, but I said nothing about how I hoped it would be accomplished.
“You and Mr. Small came to rescue me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, and a fine job we did of it too. Two other patrols were to follow us, but I guess they got their’s just as we got ours.”
“Will other ships follow us?”
“I hope so, Miss, but if they try to land . . .” I did not finish my thought, but she did not seem to be following me anyway. She sighed, deeply.
“This weight, it’s so oppressive . . . you don’t feel it in that regulator, do you?” She moved toward me as if she thought that closer proxmity to the field created around me would relieve her somewhat.
“Say,” I said, “you stand on my toes, and put your hands on my arms. The field ought to get you that way. Only, I’m afraid you’d feel worse afterwards . . .”
“Oh, just for a moment. Just to feel like myself for a moment, please . . .”
I felt badly for her. I knew what that added pressure meant.
“I do feel it. Oh it’s wonderful,” she cried, for she had stepped upon the heavy toes of my boots, and her hands were on my arms. A change came over her face, her eyes brightened. She looked pretty now through all that grime.
“I feel as if I’d lived a thousand years since I left Io.
You don’t mind me doing this for a little while, do you?”
“Of course not. Do it whenever you feel like it. But soon I’ll have the ship’s nullifiers repaired, and they’ll offset Jupiter’s pull . . .”
“And I’m keeping you from your breakfast, and your work . . .”
“That’s all right, miss. I . . .” But I said no more for suddenly there was a bellow, and glancing toward the ship’s lock I saw Small standing there. He was gaping in wonder at the strange spectacle the two of us made. Then he came across the room with long strides, Treat and Beale following at his heels.
“So! That’s the way you work, eh? Always were one for the ladies, weren’t you, Denny? And say, the little lady’s not so bad, at that. I guess I can have a share of her kisses, too?” He had thought we were embracing! However, my arms were around her now, for the girl had in terror flung herself close to me.
Menacingly, Small faced us, then reached out a hand to grab the girl by the wrist and drew her to him. She screamed and my hand darted for Small’s. For a moment we glared at each other, both remembering the previous encounter when I had felled him. He hesitated, but did not reliquish his hold upon the girl. Then he smirked and I felt the pressure of Treat’s gun against my ribs.
“Take your hand from mine, you blankety-blank patrolman,” swore Small, “and get back to your job.” And he drew the girl closer to him, lifting her bodily from the floor to drown her cries with his rough lips.
Blood boiled against my temples. Had I had the power then, I would have torn that renegade to pieces. A second disturbance came in the form of Timson Bevel. He had heard the girl’s cries and now his form was framed by the ship’s entrance, but Jupiter’s gravity defied him and Small turned in time to see him lumbering toward him. The big man’s laugh cut the air like a knife as he stepped out of range so that Treat’s gun covered us both. The girl was still in his arms.
“Get back to work, the both of you. I’m man enough to take care of this girl,” and he swore some more while the pair of us glared at Treat’s gun.
Beale came slithering toward Small. Professional pirate that he was he discerned the opportunity presented by the situation. He drew Small into the ship’s corridor, whispering all the while. Small growled at him, then apparently acquiesced. He made no attempt to soften his harsh voice. “Ransom, eh. Well, ransom it’ll be when we get away from this damned world. Here girl, give me another kiss, and then go wash your dirty face. And next time I come asking for kisses don’t be screaming around here. If you do, I might be forgetting ransom.” A pause, and we could hear Miss March scurrying into one of the staterooms. “Ransom, eh,” repeated Small. He came back through the control room, hurried through the lock, and was gone.
Treat was grinning at Bevel and me now. “That’s that. Well, you fellows, better be getting to work. Jim’s a mighty peevish fellow, sometimes.” With that he put his gun back in his belt.
Bevel hesitated, as if he wanted to seek Miss March, but Treat stood staring at him, and with drooping shoulders he turned and left the ship. Then we heard the sounds of rude shovels on the outside of the ship. Treat found the place where the pirates had kept their cards and he sat down at a table to a game of solitaire while I returned to the motors, after drinking my coffee that had become rather cool.
Meanwhile Treat left his game and came strolling over to me to learn if he could be of any help. I found he was not such a bad sort after all, but I told him I could do best alone. A new plot was hatching in my head, and even though it would take me twice as long alone I did not want anyone beside myself to know when I was through; particularly our self-styled masters. The pilot looked at me queerly, started to speak, then thought better of it. He was not one to thrust unnecessary work upon himself. He lolled in his chair, half dozing.
l I worked steadily for a dozen hours at a back-breaking job, using a light torch when the day of Jupiter failed me. I heard the others coming Und going, but paid them no heed. Miss March stayed in the privacy of her stateroom until Small called her out to prepare the evening meal. She came with head held as high as she could, and hurried out to perform her task. Having found a comb she ran it through her hair, and she tidied her clothing as best she could. Small, Treat and Beale had likewise washed, and shaved, but Thail and Bevel had been denied the facilities of the pirate ship, and the mud in which they had dug all day had not improved their appearance.
After M
iss March brought me my dinner I continued working. Bevel and Thail came inside and were locked in their stateroom, the girl in another, while Beale and Treat likewise retired. Small stayed awake, playing cards with himself under the light of a torch, but said not a word to me.
Dawn was in the sky when I realized I needed some rest, and seeing this, Small sent me to bed. He ordered me to take off the portable regulator before I lay down. The return of gravity pressure was terrific, I felt slightly nauseated, but as soon as I climbed into a bunk I was asleep. I could have slept the clock around, but in seven hours Beale, wearing my regulator, ordered me out. I had my revenge when he had to turn the apparatus over to me again.
This was several hours before dawn, and I had to work on an empty stomach until the others were awake. How haggard and wan the others were. Although accustomed to three months of Jupiter’s pressure Thail and Bevel appeared near the breaking point. Their faces were gray, the skin under their eyes, pouchy. And the heavy labor Small was forcing upon them wasn’t helping them any. Unless they were given some sort of relief soon, they would not have the will-power to struggle against the environment much longer. Bevel, of course, was standing it much better than the older man. I wondered how well I could depend upon him when the moment came for me to spring my plan into action.
Toward noon of that day I put in the last wire, tightened the last terminal, went all over the fuses once more. The motors were again in ship-shape order. I tested the three great thurla storage batteries. I switched wires around and suddenly every light in the ship was burning. I turned the switch of the forward dynamo. It flashed into life, a gentle throb filled the ship. It would be ten hours, at least, until enough electricity could be generated for the nullifier plates.
I said nothing, but in a minute or two dragging feet came from the direction of the ship’s corridor and Miss March emerged, her face shining. “You’ve done, it, you’ve done it!” Beale came from where he had been napping, and Thail and Bevel came stumping into the ship followed by Treat. They were all disappointed when they found the nullifiers weren’t working, that is, all but Treat. They nodded blankly when I advised them that it would be many hours before the power could be utilized.
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