The Space Opera Megapack

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The Space Opera Megapack Page 19

by John W. Campbell


  Murdock paid the frightened, chubby youth no attention. Captain Walls, Bray, and four of the crew were entering the cabin. The captain and pilot had belted on atom-pistols.

  Captain Walls’ plump face was paler. “Two of the crew were killed and our telaudio wrecked by that meteor,” he reported. He glared at Kenniston. “You damned pirate! You’re responsible for this!”

  “If you hadn’t dragged me away from the controls, the cruiser wouldn’t have been struck,” Kenniston denied. “And I’m not a pirate—”

  Murdock interrupted. “We’ll settle with those two later,” he told the enraged captain. “Right now, we’ll have to get out of the ship. We can’t stay in here until we get it righted on an even keel.”

  Holk Or rumbled a warning. “Better be careful about going outside. Those cursed Vestans are thick in these jungles.”

  “I’ll have no advice from you two pirates!” flamed the captain. “Bray, you and Thorpe keep your guns on them every minute.”

  The heavy main space-door was opened. Pale sunlight and warm, steamy air laden with rank scents of strange vegetation drifted in. Outside lay a raw clearing the falling ship had crushed out of the jungle.

  Captain Walls supervised as they all donned lead-soled weight-shoes to compensate for the weaker gravity. Then they emerged, young Lanning being supported by Murdock and Robbie. Kenniston and the Jovian were last to emerge, under the watchful guns of their guards.

  The crew and passengers were looking around with wonder and revulsion. The silvery bulk of the Sunsprite lay awkwardly heeled on its side. The symmetrical torpedo shape of the cruiser was now badly marred by the crumpled condition of its bow.

  All around them in the thin sunlight rose slender trees whose enormous green leaves grew directly from the trunks. This grotesque forest was made more dense by festoons of writhing “snake-vines,” weird rootless creepers which crawled like plant-serpents from one tree to another. Each stir of wind brought white spore-dust down in a shower from the trees.

  The few living creatures of this forbidding landscape were equally alien. Big white meteor-rats scurried on their eight legs through the brush. Phosphorescent flame-birds shot through the upper fronds like streaks of fire. In the pale sky overhead, there were ceaseless gleams and flashes of light as the spinning meteor-swarm reflected the sunlight.

  “What a horrible place!” shrilled Mrs. Milsom. “We’ll all die here—we’ll never get back to Earth. I knew this would happen!”

  “This is certainly a mean spot to be cast away,” muttered Captain Walls. “God knows what queer creatures inhabit it, not to speak of the mysterious Vestans everybody talks about. And John Dark and his crew are somewhere here. And the telaudio wrecked, so we can’t call for help.”

  Kenniston realized that none of the others had glimpsed Dark’s camp as they fell. They didn’t know the pirate encampment was only a few miles away in the jungle.

  “What are we going to do, captain?” Gloria was asking, her face still pale but her voice quite steady. “Can we get away?”

  Captain Walls looked hopeless. “We can’t take off with the whole bow of the Sunsprite crushed in.”

  “We can repair it, can’t we?” Hugh Murdock suggested. “Remember, in the hold is the cargo of machinery and repair-materials that Kenniston was bringing to repair Dark’s ship. Can’t we use that equipment?”

  The captain looked more hopeful. “Maybe we can. Bray and the crew and I ought to be able to do an emergency job of patching the bow and installing new rocket-tubes there. But we’ll have to work fast to get away before Dark’s outfit learns we’re here.”

  He pointed vindicatively at Kenniston. “Better lock up that fellow and his partner to make sure he doesn’t signal somehow to his fellow-pirates.”

  Kenniston tried again to explain. “Will you all listen to me? I tell you, I’m no pirate!”

  Murdock eyed him sternly. “Do you deny that John Dark sent you to Mars for repair-equipment, and that you told us that lying treasure-story to get the equipment here in our ship?”

  “No, I don’t deny that,” Kenniston admitted. “But I’m not one of John Dark’s crew—I never was! I was a prisoner on his ship, captured by the pirates before they themselves were attacked by the Patrol.”

  “Do you expect us to believe that?” Murdock said incredulously.

  “It’s true!” Kenniston insisted. “My kid brother Ricky and I were captured by John Dark’s outfit several weeks ago. We were prisoners on his ship when it was wrecked by the Patrol. After the wreck drifted onto Vesta here, Dark wanted to send someone to Mars for repair-equipment. He wouldn’t send one of his own men in charge, for fear the man would double-cross him and never come back.

  “So he sent me, his prisoner, on that errand. Holk Or came along to help me navigate a ship back. And I had to obey Dark and get the equipment back here at any cost. For Dark kept my brother Ricky prisoner here with him, and told me that if I didn’t bring back that equipment, Ricky would be shot!”

  Holk Or spoke up. “It’s true, what Kenniston’s telling you,” rumbled the Jovian. “Me, I’m one of Dark’s pirates and I don’t care a curse who knows it. But Kenniston did this only to save his brother.”

  “I don’t believe it,” said Captain Walls flatly. “It’s another of the smooth lies this fellow Kenniston makes up so easily.”

  Gloria spoke to Kenniston, her dark eyes still accusing. “If what you say is true and you’re not a pirate, then you brought all of us into this danger simply to save your own brother?”

  Kenniston looked at her miserably. “Yes, I did. I was willing to lead you all into capture to save Ricky. But I had a reason—”

  “Sure, you had a reason,” Murdock said bitterly. “What did the safety of strangers like us mean to you, compared to your precious brother?”

  Captain Walls motioned Kenniston and Holk Or angrily toward the ship. “Bray, take them in and lock them under guard in a cabin,” he said.

  Holk Or suddenly yelled. “Look out! There’s a Vestan!”

  Kenniston, his blood chilling with alarm, glanced where the Jovian pointed. At the west edge of the clearing, a small animal had suddenly emerged from the dense green jungle.

  It was a six-legged, striped, catlike beast, not unordinary as interplanetary animals go. But its head looked queer, seeming to have a bulbous gray mass attached behind its ears.

  Captain Walls uttered a scoffing exclamation. “That’s only an ordinary asteroid-cat.”

  “That is a Vestan!” Kenniston cried. “Shoot at its head—”

  His warning was too late. The catlike beast had launched itself in a spring toward their group.

  As its striped body shot through the air, Walls triggered his atom-pistol. The crackling blast of force tore into the body of the charging asteroid-cat, and the beast fell heavily a few yards away.

  But as it fell, the small gray mass upon its neck suddenly detached itself from the dead animal and scuttled swiftly forward. It moved with blurring speed toward Bray, the nearest to it of the group.

  The little gray creature was no bigger than a man’s clenched fists together. It was a gray, wrinkled featureless thing, except for pinpoint eyes and the tiny clawlike legs upon which it scurried. It reached Bray and ran swiftly up his legs and back as he swore startledly.

  Kenniston, made reckless of danger by his horror, yelled and lunged toward the pilot. Bray was swearing and trying to slap at the gray thing running up his back. But the little creature had now reached his neck. Clinging there, it swiftly dug two tiny, needle-like antennae into the base of his neck.

  “Hold him!” Kenniston shouted hoarsely. “The Vestan has got him!”

  Bray had undergone a sudden metamorphosis as the gray creature dug its antennae into his neck. His face stiffened, became masklike.

  The pilot turned and began to run stiffly toward the jungle. Kenniston’s leap almost caught him, but Bray lashed out a fist that sent Kenniston sprawling.

  “Don’t le
t him get away!” Kenniston yelled, scrambling up.

  But the others were too stricken by amazement and horror to interfere in time. Bray had already plunged into the jungle and was gone.

  “My God, what happened?” Captain Walls exclaimed dazedly. “Bray went clean crazy!”

  His gun was pointing at Kenniston and Holk Or as though he held them responsible for what had occurred.

  “He didn’t go crazy, but he’s lost now,” Kenniston said heavily. “That little gray creature was one of the Vestans.”

  “But what did it do to him? That thing wasn’t big enough to harm anybody.”

  “That’s all you know about it,” said Holk Or ominously. “Those little Vestans are the most dangerous creatures in the System.”

  “The Vestans,” Kenniston added dully, “are semi-intelligent parasites. The live by attaching themselves to and taking control of some other creature’s body. They do it by jabbing in those tiny, needle-like antennae to contact the victim’s nervous system. Thereafter, the Vestan controls the victim’s body absolutely. When the victim dies or is hurt, the Vestan simply detaches himself and fastens upon a new victim.”

  Horror was on the white faces of the others. Murdock gulped and asked, “Then Bray—”

  “Bray is beyond saving now,” Kenniston said. “The Vestan parasite will control his body till he dies. The Vestans always like to attach themselves to human beings—they know that a man’s body is more versatile in its capabilities than an animal’s.”

  Twilight was beginning to descend upon the little clearing in the jungle, for the sun had gone down during the last few minutes. In the gathering dusk, the jungle loomed dark and brooding about them.

  Overhead, the sky of this World with a Thousand Moons was burgeoning into its full glory. The hundreds of meteor-moons that spun across the heavens were shining brighter and brighter in the deepening dusk.

  Captain Walls broke the spell of horror and dread. “We’d better get back inside the ship for tonight,” he said nervously. “We can’t do anything about repairs until tomorrow, anyway. By then we’ll have figured out some way to deal with those devilish creatures.”

  Murdock said bitterly to Kenniston, “Bray’s end is your fault, Kenniston. You brought him and us and these women into this place, all for the sake of that brother of yours.”

  “He’ll stand trial for that when we get back to Mars,” the captain vowed. “Even if he wasn’t one of Dark’s crew originally, by helping them he’s made himself a space-pirate, liable to execution.”

  Kenniston made no attempt to defend himself. He knew they wouldn’t understand why he had sacrificed them for Ricky’s sake, even if he told them.

  He and Holk Or were locked in one of the little cabins, after it had been carefully searched. The crewman Thorpe was stationed as a guard outside their bolted door.

  Holk Or, who had bandaged his burned arm, looked around the dark little cabin disgustedly. “This is a devil of a fix to get into!” swore the Jovian. “Here we’ve reached Vesta with the stuff, but can’t let the chief know.”

  Kenniston asked him earnestly, “Holk, would John Dark really shoot Ricky if I didn’t deliver the equipment? He said he would, but you know he needs Ricky.”

  Kenniston was clinging to this last shred of hope for his brother. John Dark and his pirates did need Ricky. For Ricky was a physician—Doctor Richard Kenniston of the Institute of Planetary Medicine.

  That was why John Dark had spared the lives of the two brothers when he had captured them in the freighter in which they were returning to Earth from Saturn. Ordinarily, the pirate leader would have ruthlessly killed them as he killed all prisoners who were not rich enough to pay ransom.

  But the fact that Ricky was a physician had saved them. The pirates needed a doctor. They had kept the two brothers prisoner on their ship for that reason. Kenniston and Ricky had still been on the Falcon as prisoners, when the Patrol had finally caught up to it and wrecked it.

  “Dark knows that Ricky is a fine doctor and he needs a doctor,” Kenniston repeated hopefully, to the Jovian. “Surely he wouldn’t be foolish enough to shoot Ricky, even if I don’t deliver the equipment.”

  “Kenniston, don’t fool yourself,” warned Holk Or. “The chief said he’d shoot him if you weren’t back with the stuff in two weeks, and shoot him he will. John Dark never breaks his word.”

  That assurance sank the iron deeper into Kenniston’s tormented soul. If that was true, and he knew in his heart it was, Ricky would die two days from now unless he’d delivered the repair-equipment to Dark.

  He mustn’t let Ricky die! Too much depended on his young brother’s life. He must save Ricky even if it did mean the capture of Gloria and the others by the pirates. Better that they be held for ransom, than for Ricky to be killed!

  Kenniston got to his feet, rigid with decision. “Then we’ve got to get out of here,” he muttered. “We’ve got to escape and take word to Dark that the equipment is here.”

  He continued quickly, “Holk, Dark’s camp is only a few miles north of here. I spotted it as the Sunsprite fell.”

  Holk Or uttered an exclamation. “Why the devil didn’t you tell me so! I figured it was on the other side of the asteroid, maybe, and that we’d never find it in the jungle even if we did get away.”

  “It still won’t be easy for us,” Kenniston warned. “The Vestans may get us in the jungle between here and Dark’s camp. And anyway, how can we get out of this cabin?”

  The big Jovian grinned. “That’ll be easy. I’d have been out of here before now, only I was waiting for the ship to quiet down.”

  Kenniston stared. “That door is bolted. And there’s no tool or weapon in the cabin. They didn’t forget a thing when they searched it!”

  Holk Or’s grin deepened. “They forgot one thing. They forgot how strong a Jovian is on a little, weak-gravity asteroid like this!”

  CHAPTER V

  Night Attack

  Kenniston caught desperately at the hope implied by the Jovian’s words.

  “What do you mean, Holk?”

  “I mean that I’m a hundred times stronger on this little asteroid than I am on my own world, Jupiter. I can break the bolt of that door any time I want to.”

  “But there’s an armed guard stationed outside it.”

  “I know, and that’s where you come in, Kenniston. When I rip the door open, you be ready to jump the guard.”

  Kenniston considered swiftly. The chance of their getting out of the ship and safely through the jungles to the pirate camp, even if they escaped this cabin, seemed a slim one. Yet it presented the only possibility of delivering the equipment in the hold to John Dark.

  The bitter irony of it struck Kenniston, for the hundredth time. He, Lance Kenniston, honorable space-man for a dozen years, working desperately to aid the most notorious pirate in the void! Even drawing into danger the girl for whom he felt—

  He shut Gloria out of his mind. He mustn’t think of her now. He must think only of Ricky, and of what would be lost if Ricky died. He must risk everything, sacrifice everything, to prevent that loss.

  “We might as well try it now,” he told the Jovian in low tones. “The ship seems quiet.”

  “I’ll do my best to make as little noise as possible,” Holk Or muttered. “Are you ready?”

  The Jovian’s big hands grasped the knob of the door. Kenniston crouched a little behind him, every muscle tense.

  Holk Or suddenly put all his gigantically magnified strength into a tremendous tug at the door. Its bolt snapped with a crack like that of a pistolshot, and it swung wide open.

  The man on guard outside turned startledly, his hand darting to the atom-gun at his belt and his mouth open to yell. But Kenniston had launched himself like a human projectile as the door was torn open.

  Kenniston’s fist smashed the space-sailor’s chin and the man sagged limp and unconscious with no chance to utter the cry on his lips. Hastily, Kenniston took his atom-pistol and eased him t
o the floor.

  He and Holk Or listened tensely. The single sharp crack of the snapping bolt had apparently aroused no one. The ship was silent. All aboard were sleeping exhaustedly.

  “Come on,” Kenniston murmured tensely to the Jovian. “We’ve got to hurry to get to Dark’s camp before night is over.”

  Holk Or chuckled. “The chief will welcome us with open arms when he learns we’ve got the equipment here for him.”

  Kenniston gripped the atom-pistol as they stole through the dark ship and out of the space-door. Outside, they paused in the darkness.

  The scene was one of magic, unearthly beauty. The metal bulk of the cruiser and the towering jungle around the clearing were washed by brilliant silver light that fell from the wonderful night sky of this World with a Thousand Moons.

  A thousand moons indeed seemed blazing in the canopied heavens overhead! The whole dark sky was crowded by the shining moonlets that rushed ceaselessly across the firmament with the spinning of the meteor-swarm of which they were part. It was like the glorious vista of a world seen in dreams.

  But Kenniston was familiar with the unearthly spectacle. He led the way rapidly toward the northern edge of the jungle.

  “We’ll just have to plunge in and head north,” he told the Jovian. “If we reach that little lake, we can soon find Dark’s camp.”

  They started into the dense jungle, a fairyland of silver beams sifting through the choking fronds. Something scurried close by.

  “Kenniston, shoot!” cried Holk Or instantly.

  Kenniston had already glimpsed the white beast scurrying toward them across a little patch of moonslight. It was one of the big meteor-rats. On its neck bunched one of the little gray masses—a Vestan.

  The horror inspired by the hideous parasites tightened Kenniston’s finger convulsively on the trigger of the atom-pistol. The crackling bolt of fire from the weapon ripped into the Vestan on the meteor-rat, and both parasite and animal victim were instantly a scorched, smoking heap.

  “Hell, that’s torn it!” cried the big Jovian. “We’ve roused the whole ship!”

 

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