The Collected Stories

by Earl

  “For what purpose?”

  “To suck air out of this crater and disperse it into vacuum! This pocket, Brill, is very near the surface, no more than a quarter mile. Somewhere, somehow, in the long ages past, it must have opened to the surface and lost its gaseous contents to the surface vacuum.”

  “Then—then—” faltered Brill, feeling the blood drain from his face, “we will die on the spot!”

  “Yes,” Wright said calmly. “But so will Barly Moque and all his men, for the air will suck out of the crater in just so many seconds, through this cell and pocket, and whirl out into the limitless vacuum of space.” There was silence for a moment. Then Wright added: “You see, Brill, that we must do it!”

  “Yes—I see,” whispered Brill hoarsely.

  Without a word, they picked up large boulders after a moment’s search, boulders that they could not have budged on earth with its greater gravity. They stationed themselves near the hollowsounding spot at the back wall.

  Wright threw his first, while Brill waited tensely, expecting to hear a sharp whistling hiss. But the rock rebounded with a deafening thunder.

  “Hurry,” Wright urged. “They might hear and investigate.”

  Brill bunched his young muscles and heaved the boulder. It also bounced back harmlessly, scraping past his ankle and bruising his skin.

  For his second toss, Wright moved back a pace. Lifting the boulder high, he dashed it furiously at the invisible wall. There was an ominous cracking noise along with the thunder of collision—and no boulder bounced back!

  “Major! It broke through! But the air—it’s still here!”

  Wright went to the back wall and felt with his hands. “Went through all right, Brill. And the air didn’t leak out. That means then that this pocket is connected not with the surface, but with the crater!”

  After a hurried conference, they decided they would explore the pocket and attempt to find where it joined with the crater pit. But for long minutes they stood at the ventilation holes to see if the pirates had taken alarm at the noises. Apparently they had not.

  “We’ll hug the left wall,” said Wright, “and follow it in the hope that it joins the grotto cavern outside the cell. If it goes straight more than a hundred yards, or if it curves away from the crater, we’ll come back and try the right.”

  They clambered through the jagged hole which barely permitted a man’s body. “Let’s go,” Wright said.

  Hugging the wall, they advanced slowly and carefully. It was perilous work. Anywhere their footing might become insecure. Wright was the acme of caution, never moving forward till he felt for a surface to step upon and a wall to lean against.

  “Double damn this infernal darkness!” Brill said when he bruised his knee against an outjutting knob in the wall of rock.

  Unmistakably the wall began curving back upon itself.

  “It ought to connect with the grotto,” Wright said. Suddenly they found themselves able to see.

  From ahead came a faint glow, just enough to outline dimly their surroundings.

  “Careful!” Wright warned softly. “Don’t grow reckless. Just forget you can see and follow me. Somewhere around this bend where the light comes from must be either the grotto or the crater pit itself.”

  They resumed their groping—a bit more surely now—towards the source of the light. It was merely a slit in the rock, some ten feet long and quite narrow. Wright, looking through, saw they were at the end of the grotto and saw the wedge which yet sealed off their erstwhile prison from the open air. Past the wedge, out through the grotto’s open threshold, he could dimly see one of the sheet-metal structures that went for housings in the crater.

  Brill looked at Wright questioningly.

  “Now what?” Wright expressed his unvoiced query. “Well, Brill, since we’ve gotten this far, we’ll tempt fate further. We’ll sneak out of the grotto here and hug the crater wall and somehow—time only will tell—get to the space ships. That’s a three-quarter mile stretch, with a hundred men between. The only thing that makes such a hare-brained thing possible is the fact that the sun-lamps, being set off the floor, do not light directly the total fringe of the crater. So we’ll be in shadow, and more, they think we’re safe in our prison, which adds to our chances.

  “But we’d better put on all the speed we can. That fellow that brings food to us will be showing up in a short time, and give the alarm. Are you with me, Brill?”

  “Through thick and thin, sir!”

  CHAPTER VI

  Stalemate

  IT was a tight squeeze through the slit, especially for the bulky major, but it was no time to be squeamish over scratches and cuts. They pushed themselves through forcefully. Hugging one wail, they traversed the grotto till they stood in the shadows of the crater wall.

  Wright looked carefully out upon the flat level of the pirate stronghold. Numerous figures scurried about between the buildings, but by far the majority were out of sight inside the structures. The bright glare of the sun-lamps, set in niches high above, illumined clearly all the buildings and the space ship landing, but cast merely a dim reflected gloom along the circumference of the crater pit. It was in this half gloom that Wright had suggested they make their way to the ships. Cutting directly across the lighted area was sheer folly.

  A steady murmur filled the air with an occasional sound of hammering and pounding, so that their footsteps would not be heard. And if luck were with them, and if no pirate peered carefully into the shadowed skirt of wall, they had a good chance of accomplishing their aim.

  “Come on,” Wright urged suddenly, his scrutiny over. “Time is precious. Keep up against the wall and if any man comes near, flatten yourself to the rock and stop breathing.”

  In this manner they left the grotto and crept into the crater proper, skirting its dark fringe. This course would take them past, but well to the rear of, several large buildings, from the open windows of which gleamed sharp beams of light. As they made their way past the first, not a hundred yards from its door, several figures emerged suddenly.

  Wright hissed a warning and promptly both of them flattened to the wall and stood immovable as though being part of its rocky texture. The pirates, conversing loudly, never thought of looking ahead to the shadows and walked around the corner, much to the relief of the two watchers.

  When the men were completely out of sight, Wright moved forward again. They passed two other buildings without alarm. A half hour of careful progress brought them very near the edge of the open stretch which served as a subterranean landing field for the space ships. Only one more building must be passed. Then a few hundred yards and they would reach the first of the fleet.

  Just when Brill was eagerly congratulating themselves on having succeeded, an echo of shouts rose from back near the grotto, and figures began to pour from the buildings. A moment later the sound of a bell clanged loudly throughout the crater pit.

  “We’re discovered!” Brill cried, jerking erect from his crouch.

  “No,” corrected Wright, “but they’ve just found out our escape from prison. Brill, we’ve got to run for it—”

  Even as they leaped forward, they were espied by several pirates. In a moment bullets sang to them and splattered into the rocks at their back. Wright knew their only hope was to avoid being cut off from the space ships. If they could but beat the pirates to them—

  “Look!” Brill gasped, slowing up. “We’re trapped!”

  A group of pirates had streamed from the direction of Moque’s office and they were racing to head them off. Wright saw at a glance that no amount of speed could save them for they were blocked from a direct course by the last building between them and the fleet.

  “Damn!” Wright said, darting eyes all about for a possible loophole of escape. He saw none. They were trapped fair and square.

  Then his eyes widened. A figure was waving to them from the doorway of the building to their side.

  “It’s Murch!” Brill screamed. “He’s calling
to us—”

  Intuition sent them running toward the building. Murch had a pistol in his hand, but intuition again warned Wright that he would not point it at them. Then they came close to the former President Roosevelt engineer.

  “Major Wright!” shouted Murch hoarsely. “Quick, up that stairway, you and Brill—leads to the roof—jump off and beeline to the space ships—your only chance—”

  Wright hesitated as the frantic Murch, whose face was lined and haggard as though he had suffered in hell since they had seen him last, tried to push him to the stairs. “And you, Murch?”

  “Never mind me!” screamed the engineer madly. “You and Brill go—I’ll cover up the rear here—they’ll be here in a few seconds—good God, go!”

  Wright hesitated no longer and leaped up the stairs three at a time. Brill followed, but not before he grasped the engineer’s hand in a last friendly farewell.

  Murch’s voice came to them as they reached the top: “Photo-electric beam opens the air-lock—shoot straight up from the center of the crater—”

  Then Brill, who was last, heard a sudden tumult, heard a dozen pistol shots. Then a wild shriek as Murch, mortally wounded and berserk, flung his powerful body at the pirates to stay them for another second or two.

  Wright and Brill found themselves on the flat roof of the building, some fifty feet off ground. Without hesitation Wright leaped over the edge and landed like a cat on the rocky floor, the jump equal to no more than ten feet on earth. Brill followed, tumbling as he landed, but was jerked to his feet by the major’s strong hand. Before them a hundred yards were the space ships. No other person was near enough to hinder their advance.

  Like huge grasshoppers in the moon’s light gravity they leaped toward the first ship. Bullets followed them from the roof they had just left. They spattered viciously on the rock at all sides of the fleeing pair, who ran on grimly. But the pirates seemed unable to hit a target moving so swiftly as the major and his companion, though Brill was pale at the ominous sound of whistling bullets past his ear.

  Then they were there. Wright tore open the hatch of the first ship without ceremony and shoved Brill in, then leaped himself. A searing pain on his thigh came coincident with the metallic splash of lead on hard metal. Wright laughed. The best the pirates had been able to do was graze his flesh.

  “You’re the pilot,” Wright cried, banging the hatch shut. “Take her straight up through the center, like Murch said, so the photo-electric relay will let us out of the crater.”

  As Brill jumped to the pilot seat, Wright placed himself before the lower rear gun.

  Under gravity-engine power, Brill lifted the ship off the ground, having no trouble with the standard controls, and swung to the center of the crater. A few seconds later a second ship followed, manned by the pirates.

  Wright had the advantage of altitude and sent a white-hot infra-bolt downward. It fused the pilot port and burned one hand of the pilot so that he jerked spasmodically and dropped the ship with a terrific bang back to the crater floor.

  Passing the line of sun-lamp beams, Brill shot their ship into the comparative gloom that extended from that point to the next lock above. But when they approached the air-lock, it failed to open. They looked at each other blankly.

  “Must have turned off the photoelectric relay,” Wright said coolly.

  “Then we’re trapped!” exploded Brill, setting the ship to a float.

  “Not exactly,” Wright returned grimly. He bent to his gun and sent a livid bolt down at a pirate ship that loomed up from the crater floor. A second bolt did what the first failed to do and sent the ship scuttling back.

  “You see,” Wright explained, “we have all the advantage here. We are above the zone of lights. Therefore, we can see them clearly, but they can see us only dimly, if at all. Furthermore, I can shoot bolts down with impunity, but they must be careful or they will fuse their air-lock, missing us, and thus defeat themselves. It’s more like stalemate than a trap.”

  For five minutes—minutes during which Brill sweated in apprehension while Wright bit his lip again and again—there was no action from below. What was Barly Moque hatching?

  “Hold her here,” Wright said. “We’ll see if Barly dares shoot bolts at us when he could so easily miss and damage the lock.”

  Suddenly Brill gasped. “Major Wright—the lock is opening!”

  Wright contracted his brows in a second of quick thought. Then he looked below. The whole fleet, it seemed, was gathering slowly, in groups of five.

  “All right, Brill, send her through.

  Barly Moque has decided to chase and fight us out in the open.”

  Brill sent the ship into the lock chamber, and then out into the open when the upper seal yawned. They speared out over the shadowed surface of the moon. Overhead the sharp stars looked quietly on.

  “Clever move Moque made,” Wright said grimly. “But first let him catch us.”

  He looked at the space chart and ran through a rapid mental calculation. “Turn seventy degrees to Lunar surface, five degrees from Ecliptic, and let her rip at top speed. That’s a general course to get on the Earth side of the moon. Then we’ll swing straight for Earth.”

  As Brill obeyed instructions and sent the ship leaping in acceleration, Wright looked down at the lock and saw ten ships emerge and give chase. In groups of ten they spewed from the crater till it was apparent that Barly Moque was using his entire fleet in the attempt to recapture the prisoners.

  CHAPTER VII

  The Baffle

  GRADUALLY the pursuers drew nearer as the moon began to swing away and dwindle. Wright motioned Brill away from the controls and took them over himself. “I’ll show you a trick of the Ether Patrol for getting speed quick. You use the gravity and rocket motors as complementary forces—like synchronizing two waves to make a bigger one.”

  Under Wright’s manipulation their ship drew ahead again, but very slowly. “Apparently Moque taught his men that trick too,” the major said, seeing they clung to the trail tenaciously.

  Over his shoulder he spoke to Brill: “The radio, Brill—point six, six meters. That’s for the Ether Patrol. Send out an SOS for all you’re worth.”

  Through the void of space Major Wright sent his stolen ship, pursued by ruthless pirates whose one aim was to stop the ship that threatened to reveal their secret hideaway. Brill sent out a full-power SOS on the wave-length that was used by the Ether Patrol. From the rear vision mirrored port he watched the pirates.

  “Major,” he said finally, still tapping the SOS in code, “the pirates are gradually pulling up.”

  Wright grunted. “They must be using two pilots at the control board of each ship, which gives them an advantage. If we had another man here we could do the same. But stay at the radio, Brill. That’s more important.” The situation became tense in the next half hour. The pirates drew steadily nearer. Soon they would be within range of their guns. Both Wright and Brill felt uneasy.

  Then Brill cried in joy. “The Ether Patrol—I’ve contacted them!”

  Wright sprang to the radio and sent the pilot to the controls.

  “Hello—Major Wright speaking. Am being pursued by pirates—they have a base on the moon—Mare Mauve is the location, I think—on the Other Side. Anyway, blast this way immediately—look for rocket trail—yes, all right, I will try to escape these chasing me—attack if I’m not there but don’t wreck the air-lock. Just capture or blast their remaining ships—yes, they outnumber us—N.P. Unit?—No, we can’t wait for them—good luck, men!” Wright leaped back to the pilot seat. “My own command of thirty ships, Brill! When I failed to report to the President Roosevelt, Captain Gilbert notified Ether Patrol Headquarters and my unit immediately went to the spot and have been scouring around between Earth and moon and even around the moon. They are only two hours away. They will meet us at the Mare Mauve or else trail the rocket blasts. And then we’re going to have a reckoning with Moque the Mocker!”

  “But if you stop or
turn around here,” Brill said, “those ships out there will be waiting for us!”

  “Watch this,” Wright returned.

  Under his guidance, the ship suddenly shuddered as the nose rockets burst out. At the same time a powerful side blast pushed them off the line of their course. The pirate ships careened past far above, out of gun range, front rockets blasting.

  “I wouldn’t dare do that with any ordinary ship,” Wright said, “but these ships of Moque’s are as sturdy as ever a ship was made.”

  When the pirates duplicated the maneuver and had likewise applied deceleration, Wright had gained an appreciable distance. Furthermore, he was now on the moon side of them. A half hour’s deceleration and the ship shot backward from a practical stop in space—back toward the moon!

  The distance between them varied but little on the return trip. In an hour the moon loomed again large and filled their sky.

  “There they are!” pointed Wright suddenly.

  Coming down from a higher altitude, Brill saw a line of thirty rocket blasts—Wright’s own command! As Brill again took over the controls, the major contacted them by radio.

  “Join me at altitude five hundred miles,” commanded Major Wright, speaking with a peculiar inflection of pride in his voice. “We will then descend in a body and contact the pirates by radio. If they do not surrender, we will battle them. Let’s go, men!” To Brill he said: “They outnumber us two to one, but the Ether Patrol, Allspace Unit Six, admits of no fighting force its equal. We’ll show these pirates a thing or two.”

  The pursuing outlaws had evidently caught sight of the Ether Patrol also, and had recognized it, for they suddenly veered from their course and shot downward toward the crater stronghold, to be swallowed under the Lunar surface.

  Contact was made with the pirates, as prearranged. Barly Moque’s answer was delivered in a fierce tone: “I’ll fight you, Major Wright, as I fought you ten years ago. But this time I have ships equal to yours and trained fighting men. I defy you and dare you to attack!” Wright snapped off the radio with a savage gesture, cutting off Moque’s mocking laughter. He contacted his fleet.