by Anthology
"And tell them to keep their hands off Miss Prince."
He stared at me. "I had not thought of that: a woman among so many men!"
His own gaze at Anita was as offensive as any of his men could have given. He said, "Have no fear, little tigress."
Anita laughed. "I'm afraid of nothing."
But when he had lurched from the cabin, she touched me. Smiled with her mannish swagger, for fear we were still observed, and murmured:
"Oh Gregg, I am afraid!"
We stayed in the cubby a few moments, whispering and planning.
"You think the signal room is in the tower, Gregg? This tower outside our window here?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Shall we go out and see?"
"Yes. Keep near me always."
"Oh Gregg, I will!"
We deposited our Erentz suits carefully in a corner of the cubby. We might need them so suddenly! Then we swaggered out to join the brigands working on the deck.
XXX
The deck glowed lurid in the queer blue-greenish glare of Martian electro-fuse lights. It was in a bustle of ordered activity. Some twenty of the crew were scattered about, working in little groups. Apparatus was being brought up from below to be assembled. There was a pile of Erentz suits and helmets, of Martian pattern, but still very similar to those with which Grantline's expedition was equipped. There were giant projectors of several kinds, some familiar to me, others of a fashion I had never seen before. It seemed there were six or eight of them, still dismantled, with a litter of their attendant batteries and coils and tube amplifiers.
They were to be mounted here on the deck, I surmised; I saw in the dome side one or two of them already rolled into position.
Anita and I stood outside Potan's cubby, gazing around us curiously. The men looked at us but none of them spoke.
"Let's watch from here a moment," I whispered. She nodded, standing with her hand on my arm. I felt that we were very small, here in the midst of these seven foot Martian men. I was all in white, the costume used in the warm interior of Grantline's camp. Bareheaded, white silk Planetara uniform jacket, broad belt and tight-laced trousers. Anita was a slim black figure beside me, somber as Hamlet, with her pale boyish face and wavy black hair.
The gravity being maintained here on the ship we had found to be stronger than that of the Moon and rather more like Mars.
"There are the heat rays, Gregg."
A pile of them was visible down the deck length. And I saw caskets of fragile glass globes, bombs of different styles, hand projectors of the paralyzing ray; search beams of several varieties; the Benson curve light, and a few side arms of ancient Earth design--swords and dirks, and small bullet projectors.
There seemed to be some mining equipment also. Far along the deck, beyond the central cabin in the open space of the stern, steel rails were stacked; half a dozen tiny-wheeled ore carts; a tiny motor engine for hauling them and what looked as though it might be the dismembered sections of an ore chute.
The whole deck was presently strewn with this mass of equipment.
Potan moved about, directing the different groups of workers. The news had spread that we knew the location of the treasure. The brigands were jubilant. In a few hours the ship's armament would be ready, and it would advance.
I saw many glances cast out the dome side windows toward the distant plains of the Mare Imbrium. The brigands believed that the Grantline camp lay in that direction.
Anita whispered, "Which is their giant electronic projector, Gregg?"
I could see it amidships of the deck. It was already in place. Potan was there now, superintending the men who were connecting it. The most powerful weapon on the ship. It had, Potan said, an effective range of some ten miles. I wondered what it would do to a Grantline building! The Erentz double walls would withstand it for a time, I was sure. But it would blast an Erentz fabric suit, no doubt of that. Like a lightning bolt, it would kill--its flashing free stream of electrons shocking the heart, bringing instant death.
I whispered, "We must smash that before we leave! But first turn it on Miko, if he signals now."
I was tensely watchful for that signal. The electronic projector obviously was not ready. But when it was connected, I must be near it, to persuade its duty man to fire it on Miko. With this done we would have more time to plan our other tasks. I did not think Potan would be ready for his attack before another time of sleep here in the ship's routine. Things would be quieter then; I would watch my chance to send a signal to Earth, and then we would escape.
With my thoughts roving, we had been standing quietly at the cubby door for about fifteen minutes. My hand in my side pouch clutched the little bullet projector. The brigands had taken it from me and given it to Potan. He had placed it on the settle with my Erentz suit; and when we gained his confidence he had forgotten it and left it there. I had it now, and the feel of its cool sleek handle gave me a measure of comfort. Things could go wrong so easily. But if they did, I was determined to sell my life as dearly as possible. And a vague thought was in my mind: I must not use the last bullet. That would be for Anita.
"That electronic projector is remote controlled. Look, Anita, that's the signal room over us. The giant projector will be aimed and fired from up there."
A thirty foot skeleton tower stood on the deck near us, with a spiral ladder leading up to a small, square, steel cubby at the top. Through the cubby window I could see instrument panels. A single Martian was up there; he had called down to Potan concerning the electronic projector.
The roof of this little tower room was close under the dome--a space of no more than four feet. A pressure lock exit in the dome was up there, with a few steps leading up to it from the roof of the tower signal room.
We could escape that way, perhaps. In the event of dire necessity it might be possible. But only as a desperate resort, for it would put us on the top of the glassite dome, with a sheer hundred feet or more down its sleek bulging exterior side, and down the outside bulge of the ship's hull, to the rocks below. There might be a spider ladder outside leading downward, but I saw no evidence of it. If Anita and I were forced to escape that way, I wondered how we could manage a hundred foot jump to the rocks, and land safely. Even with the slight gravity of the Moon, it would be a dangerous fall.
"You are Gregg Haljan?"
I stared as one of the brigands, coming up behind, addressed me.
"Yes."
"Commander Potan tells me you were chief navigator of the Planetara?"
"Yes."
"You shall pilot us when we advance upon the Grantline camp. I am control-commander here--Brotow, my name."
He smiled. A giant fellow, but spindly. He spoke good English. He seemed anxious to be friendly.
"We are glad to have you and George Prince's sister with us." He shot Anita an admiring glance. "I will show you our controls, Haljan."
"All right," I said. "Whatever I can do to help...."
"But not now. It will be some hours before we are ready."
I nodded, and he wandered away. Anita whispered: "Did he mean that signal room up in the tower? Oh Gregg, maybe it's only the control room."
"Suppose we go up and see? Miko's signals might start any minute."
And the electronic projector seemed about ready. It was time for me to act. But a reluctant instinct was upon me. Our Erentz suits were close behind us in Potan's cubby. I hated to leave them. If anything happened, and we had to make a sudden dash, there would be no time to garb ourselves in the suits. To adjust the helmets would be bad enough.
I whispered swiftly, "We must get into our suits--find some pretext." I drew her back through the cubby doorway where we would be more secluded.
"Anita, listen. I've been a fool not to plan our escape more carefully. We're in too great a danger here!"
Suddenly it seemed to me that we were in desperate plight! Was it premonition?
"Anita, listen: if anything happens and we have to make a dash--"
"Up through that dome lock, Gregg? It's a manual control; you can see the levers."
"Yes. It's a manual. But once up there how would we get down?"
She was far calmer than I. "There may be an outside ladder, Gregg."
"I don't think so. I haven't seen it."
"Then we can get out the way they brought us in. The hull port--it's a manual, too."
"Yes, I think I can find our way down through the hull corridors."
"There are guards outside on the rocks."
We had seen them through the dome windows. But there were not many, only two or three. I was armed and a surprise rush would do the trick.
We donned our Erentz suits.
"What will we do with the helmets?" demanded Anita. "Leave them here?"
"No, take them with us. I'm not going to get separated from them!"
"We'll look strange going up to that signal room equipped like this."
"I can't help it, Anita. We'll explain it, somehow."
She stood before me, a queer-looking little figure in the now deflated, bagging suit with her slim neck and head protruding above it.
"Carry your helmet, Anita. Ill take mine."
We could adjust the helmets and start the motors all within a few seconds.
"I'm ready, Gregg."
"Come on, then. Let me go first."
I had the bullet projector in an outer pouch of the suit where I could instantly reach it. This was more rational; we had a fighting chance now. The fear which had swept me began to recede.
"We'll climb the tower to the signal room," I whispered. "Do it boldly."
We stepped from the cubby. Potan was not in sight; perhaps he was on the further deck beyond the central cabin structure.
On the deck, we were immediately accosted. This was different--our appearance in the Erentz suits!
"Where are you going?" This fellow spoke in Martian.
I answered in English, "Up there."
He stood before us, towering over me. I saw a group of nearby workers stop to regard us. In a moment we would be causing a commotion, and it was the last thing I desired.
I said in Martian, "Commander Potan told me, what I wish I can do. From the dome we look around to see where is the Grantline camp from here. I am pilot of this ship to go there."
The man who had called himself Brotow passed near us. I appealed to him.
"We put on our suits. After our experience, we feel safer that way. If I'm to pilot the ship...."
He hesitated, his glance sweeping the deck as though to ask Potan. Someone said in Martian:
"The Commander is down in the stern storeroom."
It decided Brotow. He waved away the Martian who had stopped me.
"Let them pass."
Anita and I gave him our most friendly smiles.
"Thanks."
He bowed to Anita with a sweeping gesture. "I will show you over the control room presently."
His gaze went to the peak of the bow.
The little hooded cubby there was the control room, then. Satisfaction swept me. Then above us in the tower, must surely be the signal room. Would Brotow follow us up? I hoped not. I wanted to be alone with the duty man up there, giving me a chance to get at the projector controls if Miko's signal should come.
I drew Anita past Brotow, who had stood aside. "Thanks," I repeated. "We won't be long."
We mounted the little ladder.
XXXI
"Hurry, Anita!"
I feared that Potan might come up from the hull at any moment and stop us. The duty man over us gazed down, his huge head and shoulders blocking the small signal room window. Brotow called up in Martian, telling him to let us come. He scowled, but when we reached the trap in the room floor grid, we found him standing aside to admit us.
I flung a swift glance around. It was a metallic cubby, not much over fifteen feet square, with an eight foot arched ceiling. There were instrument panels. The range finder for the giant projector was here; its telescope with the trajectory apparatus and the firing switch were unmistakable. And the signaling apparatus was here! Not a Martian set, but a fully powerful Botz ultra-violet sender with its attendant receiving mirrors. The Planetara had used the Botz system, so I was thoroughly familiar with it.
I saw too, what seemed to be weapons: a row of small fragile glass globes, hanging on clips along the wall--bombs, each the size of a man's fist. And a broad belt with bombs in its padded compartments.
My heart was pounding as my first quick glance took in these details. I saw also that the room had four small oval window openings. They were breast high above the floor; from the deck below I knew that the angle of vision was such that the men down there could not see into this room except to glimpse its upper portion near the ceiling. And the helio set was banked on a low table near the floor.
In a corner of the room a small ladder led through a ceiling trap to the cubby roof. This upper trap was open. Four feet above the room's roof was the arch of the dome, with the entrance to the exit-lock directly above us. The weapons and the belt of bombs were near the ascending ladder, evidently placed here as equipment for use from the top of the dome.
I turned to the solitary duty man. I must gain his confidence at once. Anita had laid her helmet aside. She spoke first.
"We were with Set Miko," she said smilingly, "in the wreck of the Planetara. You heard of it? We know where the treasure is."
This duty man was a full seven feet tall, and the most heavy-set Martian I had ever seen. A tremendous, beetle-browed, scowling fellow. He stood with hands on his hips, his leather-garbed legs spread wide; and as I confronted him, I felt like a child.
He was silent, glaring down at me as I drew his attention from Anita.
"You speak English?" I asked. "We are not skilled with Martian."
I wondered if at the next time of sleep this fellow would be on duty here. I hoped not: it would not be easy to trick him and find an opportunity to flash a signal. But that task was some hours away as yet; I would worry about it when the time came. Just now I was concerned with Miko and his little band, who at any moment might arrive in sight. If we could persuade this duty man to turn the projector on them!
He answered me in ready English:
"You are the man Gregg Haljan? And this is the sister of George Prince--what do you want up here?"
"I am a navigator. Brotow wants me to pilot the ship when we advance to attack Grantline."
"This is not the control room."
"No, I know it isn't."
I put my helmet carefully on the floor beside Anita's. I straightened to find the brigand gazing at her. He did not speak: he was still scowling. But in the dim blue glow of the cubby, I caught the look in his eyes.
I said hastily, "Grantline knows your ship has landed here on Archimedes. His camp is off there on the Mare Imbrium. He sent up a signal--you saw it, didn't you?--just before Miss Prince and I came aboard. He was trying to pretend he was your Earth party, Miko and Coniston."
"Why?"
The fellow turned his scowl on me, but Anita brought his gaze back to her. She put in quickly:
"Grantline, as brother always said, has no great cunning. I believe now he plans to creep up on us unawares, by pretending that he is Miko."
"If he does that," I said, "we will turn this electronic projector on him and his party and annihilate them. You have its firing mechanism here."
"Who told you so?" he shot at me.
I gestured. "I see it here. It's obvious: I'm skilled at trajectory firing. If Grantline appears down there now, I'll help you."
"Is it connected?" Anita demanded boldly.
"Yes," he said. "You have on your Erentz suits: are you going to the dome roof? Then go."
But that was what we did not want to do. Anita's glance seemed to tell me to let her handle this. I turned toward one of the cubby windows.
She said sweetly, "Are you in charge of this room? Show me how the projector is operated. I know it will
be invincible against the Grantline camp."
I had my back to them for a moment. Through the breast-high oval I could see down across the deck-space and out through the side dome windows. And my heart suddenly leaped into my throat. It seemed that down there in the Earthlit shadows, where the spreading base of the giant crater joined the plains, a light was bobbing. I gazed, stricken. Miko's lights? Was he advancing, preparing to signal? I tried to gauge the distance; it was not over two miles from here.
Or was it not a light at all? With the naked eye, I could not be sure. Perhaps there was a telescope finder here in the cubby....
I was subconsciously aware of the voices of Anita and the duty man behind me. Then abruptly I heard Anita's low cry. I whirled around.
The giant Martian had gathered her into his huge arms, his heavy jowled gray face, with a leering grin, close to hers!
He saw me coming. He held her with one arm! his other flung at me, caught me, knocked me backward. He rasped:
"Get out of here! Go up to the dome--"
Anita was silently struggling with her little hands at his thick throat. His blow flung me against a settle. But I held my feet. I was partly behind him. I leaped again, and as he tried to disengage himself from Anita to front me, her clutching fingers impeded him.
My projector was in my hand. But in that second as I leaped, I had the sense to realize I should not fire it because its noise would alarm the ship. I grasped its barrel, reached upward and struck with its heavy metal butt. The blow caught the Martian on the skull, and simultaneously my body struck him.
We went down together, falling partly upon Anita. But the giant had not cried out, and as I gripped him now, I felt his body go limp. I lay panting. Anita squirmed silently from under us. Blood from the giant's head was welling out, hot and sticky against my face as I lay sprawled on him.
I cast him off. He was dead, his fragile Martian skull split open by my blow.
There had been no alarm. The slight noise we made had not been heard down on the busy deck. Anita and I crouched by the floor. From the deck all this part of the room could not be seen.