Collected Fiction (1940-1963)

by William P. McGivern

  They were unpleasantly aware of the creature who strode behind them, Luger in hand.

  CHAPTER IV

  Hostages!

  FOR approximately half a mile across the gleaming, barren wastes, Dexlon led the two American flyers. Phil and Jim said nothing during this trek; there was nothing to say. They could only await whatever developments were in store for them.

  Finally Dexlon stopped and raised his hand. The party came to a halt. Jim saw that they were at the mouth of what appeared to be a narrow tunnel leading into the ground. The aperture was so cleverly camouflaged, however, that a person could pass within a few feet and be unaware of its existence.

  The creature who had marched beside Dexlon disappeared down this tunnel. In a few minutes he was back. He gestured to Dexlon. Dexlon turned to them.

  “You will follow me again,” he said, and started down the narrow tunnel-way.

  The creature at their back motioned them down the tunnel with the Luger and there was nothing they could do but obey. At the first turn of the descending corridor, the brilliant light from above faded and was replaced by a softer illumination that seemed to radiate from the smoothly hewn walls.

  For several hundred yards they followed Dexlon’s small figure, as it turned and twisted, criss-crossed and back-tracked through an interminable maze of labyrinthine corridors.

  Eventually the small leader of the strange creatures stopped and opened a smoothly fitting door. He stepped aside.

  “You will enter,” he said. “You will be confined here until I talk with your people and learn what they are willing to offer for your release.”

  “Now just a minute,” Jim said, “you’ve been doing all the talking and it’s about my turn now.” He stepped forward, disregarding the gun in Dexlon’s hands. “Who are these ‘people’ you’re going to see about us? What kind of game are you trying to run? We don’t know a soul on this God-forsaken place, and you know it. We’re from America; we landed here by accident and we’d like to get away as soon as possible. I don’t know who or what you are, but,” his glance flicked to the German Luger in Dexlon’s hands, “I know darn well you’ve been in some pretty rotten company.”

  “Your pretense of ignorance will gain you nothing,” Dexlon said. “Your people came to our land three years ago and they have made slaves of the free people of Radion. We who have managed to escape their domination are fighting you with every weapon at our command. We surprise your kind when they are travelling in small groups, take their weapons and kill them without mercy. We would have done the same to you, but I have a different plan in mind.”

  JIM felt a strange excitement coursing through him. All the answers to this mad situation seemed very near at hand.

  “These people you speak of,” he said, “is it from them you got those guns? Is it from them you learned to speak English?”

  “Yes,” Dexlon said. “They forced certain of us to learn their own language and the tongue you speak now. But you know well of these things. We waste time talking of them.”

  “These people call themselves Germans, don’t they?” Jim demanded.

  “Yes, that is their name,” Dexlon said. “And you are of the same mold. Your people have enslaved us and killed and tortured those who would resist.”

  “You’ve got us all wrong,” Jim cried. “For God’s sake, you’ve got to listen to me. We are from America, from the same planet that these Germans came from, but we are not their friends, we are their sworn enemies, even as you are. On Earth we are fighting them with every weapon at our hand, just as you are. There, they have enslaved great masses of people and are forcing them to labor as slaves, even as they enslaved your people. They must be destroyed; they must be absolutely wiped from the universe. You must let us help you in your fight against them. We have learned many things about their tactics; we—”

  “Enough!” Dexlon cried. “Do you think we believe your lies after what we have learned of you? You would swear to anything to save your miserable lives. We know that you are without honor, without truth, without scruples or conscience.”

  The gun in his small hand waved grimly toward the open door.

  “Enter, before I forget my plans and destroy you now.”

  “But you’ve got to listen to me,” Jim blazed. “Can’t you see I’m telling you the truth?”

  “He’s on the level, mister,” Phil put in. “You’ve just got to give us a chance to fight these Nazis here. Why—”

  “Silence!” Dexlon said quietly. “I am losing my patience. I have given you your orders. I believe not your lies. If you do not enter your cell immediately I shall give the signal to my men to shoot you down like dogs.”

  Jim Hawkins stared into Dexlon’s startlingly clear eyes and he knew the strange creature meant precisely what he said.

  “There’s no use arguing,” he muttered to Phil. “They hold the whip hand now.”

  With a shrug he turned and entered the small cell. Phil followed him, grumbling under his breath. The door closed quietly, inexorably, behind them.

  The cell was hardly six feet square. There were two bunks, one on either wall and ventilation was furnished by a small barred aperture in the ceiling. From the walls emanated the soft mellow illumination they had noticed in the corridors and it cast a lambent glow over the rude furnishings of the tiny cubicle.

  “WELL, if this isn’t a pretty mess,” Phil muttered, seating himself on one of the bunks. “These queer little nuts think we’re Germans. That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “It may not be so funny,” Jim said soberly. “The Germans are not here to play parlor games, that’s for sure. When they learn that two American fliers are poaching on their reserves, you can guess what their reaction will be.”

  “But what are the Germans doing here in the first place?” Phil asked. “And how’d they find this asteroid? And where do these little fellows fit in? It’s the darndest muddle I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen plenty of ’em.”

  “I think I can answer some of your questions,” Jim said thoughtfully. “There are still a lot of things I don’t understand but the general outline is becoming pretty clear.”

  “All right, then,” Phil said, leaning back in the bunk, “What are the Germans doing here?”

  “This is just a guess, but I think that this asteroid, which our little friend called Radion, is a tremendously fertile source of free radium. And that answers your question. The Germans are here plundering that store of radium.”

  Phil leaped to his feet at the words spoken so softly by his companion.

  “My God, Jim, you don’t mean that you think this spot, this tiny blob in space is the mysterious source of the Axis radium supply!”

  “Yes,” said Hawkins quietly. “I’d stake my life on it, even though said life isn’t worth a Nazi nickel at this instant. The Boche swine must have stumbled on this source almost two years ago! Maybe they stumbled onto it from their experiments in space flight, I don’t know. But the fact is, that once they’d done so, they lost no time in realizing what they had their hands on. The first crude radium weapons must have been hurled against our troops in less than six months after their taking over this radium planet!”

  “Then this place must be lousy with Nazi rats!” Phil exclaimed.

  Jim Hawkins shrugged. “Perhaps so. Perhaps not. I have a hunch that damned few of the Huns on Earth themselves know where their highly incredible supply of radium is coming from. Can’t you appreciate how vital it would be for them to keep the truth about their radium source from falling into the hands of the United Nations?” Roberts nodded.

  “Damned right I can. Why, if any of our own scientists even imagined that the source was here, in proximate space to our own universe, they’d take their attention from all their present experiments and concentrate on spaceflight experimentation.”

  “Right,” Jim said excitedly. “And that’s why I have a hunch that there are damned few Boche on this asteroid. Maybe no more than enough to
control the mining of the radium deposits and keep what’s left of the native guerillas under control. Can’t you see that if more than a few handsful of Axis snakes knew their own radium secret that United Nations spies and operatives behind their lines would sooner or later pick up that very vital information?”

  PHIL ROBERTS bit hard on his underlip.

  “I didn’t think of that angle, Jim. But it sure as hell sounds logical.”

  “They can risk garrisoning this tremendously vital discovery of theirs with such a relatively slight protection force,” Jim went on, as if assuring himself of the solidity of each step in his logic. “They can risk it simply because they figure United Nations scientists, as busy as they are with efforts to crack the radium nut from research into all natural matter on Earth, would never waste time in experimentation with space flight now.”

  “But Baldwin did!” Phil Roberts explained. “At least he went to work developing the space fringe fighter, the X-80 that brought us here. And sheer chance took the X-80 out of the space fringes and whipped us into space proper, crashing us on this asteroid. Good God, Jim, could you feature the colonel’s face if he knew what in the hell had happened to us, and where we are now?”

  “The United Nations must know what happened to us, and what we’ve learned, Phil,” Jim said desperately. “Even if we never return to Earth ourselves. And we’ve got to figure out how we can get this dope back to Earth. This is the radium source of the Axis—I’m positive!”

  Phil suddenly frowned, as if stricken by a sudden doubt which had not previously occurred to him.

  “Yet, if it is, didn’t you tell me that humans couldn’t stand the barrage of emanations from free radium?” the radioman demanded.

  Jim frowned and stared thoughtfully at the softly glowing purple light radiating from the walls.

  “Ordinarily it would be impossible for any human being to stand such a concentration of radium rays, but I think the Germans have treated the atmosphere in some way to nullify the normally toxic effects of the radium.”

  “Granting that,” Phil said, “but how’d they get here? And how do they get the radium back to Earth?”

  Jim stood up and jammed his hands into the pockets of his breeches. A dark frown settled over his features.

  “Those are things we’re going to find out,” he said quietly.

  “How?” Phil asked.

  “There’s got to be a way,” Jim snapped. He began pacing nervously, his jaw grim. “There’s got to be a way,” he repeated desperately. “The Germans’ use of radium in the war on Earth for a couple of years has brought the United Nations to the brink of defeat, and only a revelation of this tremendous secret will avert that defeat We can’t fail, Phil. We can’t! Since their source of supply is here, on Radion, they must have a way of getting it back to Earth. Dexlon confirmed the fact that they have been here for several years. I’m almost convinced they discovered this planet, as we did, by accident. But how they’ve taken advantage of that accident!”

  HE PACED the floor for several minutes, his features dark with worry.

  “They’ve done the same thing here that they’ve done in every country they’ve conquered,” he went on, “They’ve subjugated the people, made a slave race of them and forced them into bondage as slave labor. Some of the inhabitants of Radion—like Dexlon—haven’t submitted, have gone on fighting, just as the Poles and the Free French and the Yugoslavs have continued the fight. These creatures who captured us are guerilla fighters, doing what they can to break the hold of the Germans over their people.”

  “That all makes sense,” Phil said, “but we’re right behind the eight ball. These little guys think we’re Nazis. How can we do anything to help them, as long as they’ve got that idea in their noggins?”

  “I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Jim Hawkins said determinedly, “but we’ve got to do something!”

  “Another thing,” Phil said, “that little guy made a crack about us being redeemed by the Germans. What do you suppose he meant by that?”

  “I don’t know,” Jim said. “Possibly Dexlon has some plan in mind to strike at the Germans by using us.”

  “That doesn’t sound very healthy for us,” Phil said worriedly. “You know what will happen when the Germans get their hands on us.”

  “I know,” Jim said briefly. “We wouldn’t stand a ghost of a chance. Whatever happens, we can’t let ourselves fall into the clutches of the Germans. But there’s nothing we can do now, so we might as well try and get some sleep. We’re going to need all our strength when our chance comes.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep,” Phil said. He yawned and lay back on the cot. “I’ve got too much on my mind.” He closed his eyes. In a moment he was snoring.

  Jim smiled down at the recumbent figure, then he stretched out himself and relaxed. Despite his weariness, he wasn’t sure that he could sleep. He closed his eyes. . .

  THEY were awakened by the opening of the door. Jim opened his eyes first and sat up. Dexlon was standing in the doorway regarding them inscrutably. He held a gun in his small hand.

  “Everything has been arranged,” he said, in his soft precise voice. “You will follow me.”

  Phil sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

  “What’s been arranged?” he demanded. “What’s going to happen to us now?”

  “You shall not be kept long in suspense,” Dexlon said. “The leader of our tribe, the noble Aton, has been imprisoned by your people since they arrived. His imprisonment has broken the spirit of resistance in our people. They are afraid that their actions might cause him more suffering, and so they are afraid to strike back at their captors. But I have just come from the central camp of your people. And through an intermediary I have made them a proposition which they have been happy to accept.”

  “What proposition was that?” Jim asked.

  “An even exchange,” Dexlon said, “Aton, our leader, for you two. Your people were most interested in you. When they learned of the markings on your craft they became very excited. And they agreed to our terms without the slightest hesitation. They seemed very happy.”

  Jim’s thoughts raged bitterly, sickly, impotently. Of course the Nazis in charge here would be delighted to get the two American airmen who had stumbled on their source of radium.

  “You fool,” he blazed despairingly at Dexlon, “you don’t know the truth when you hear it. And what makes you think the Nazis will keep their promises? You’ve been taken in for a sucker, that’s all.”

  Dexlon moved the gun slightly toward the door.

  “I am not interested in discussion,” he murmured. “You will please follow me at once.”

  THE exchange place which Dexlon had selected was in the middle of a sloping valley. There was only one entrance to this valley and the approaches to this passage had been thoroughly scouted by his men before his small party entered the valley.

  At the exact center of the low incline, two German officers were waiting, and with them was a small, bent figure a creature of Radion, with a calm tranquil face and eyes as blue and clear as the sky in May. Obviously this was Aton, the exchange hostage.

  Jim Hawkins and Phil Roberts were led forward to this meeting place. The German officers smiled slowly when they saw the American fliers.

  “Welcome,” the ranking German officer said with soft sarcasm. “Permit me to introduce myself, Oberleutnant Herr Bruno Schiller, and my invaluable aid, Leutnant Mueller.”

  The two German officers bowed mockingly.

  “And tell me,” Oberleutnant Schiller murmured, “whom do we have the honor of receiving?”

  Jim Hawkins stared savagely at the tall, thick-shouldered Nazi.

  “Just two Americans,” he said flatly, “who’d sell their chance at Heaven to get their hands on your neck for twenty seconds.”

  “Such ferocity,” the German officer said softly. “We have ways and means to temper such—er—high spirits at our camp.”

  Ji
m glanced about the brooding quietness of the valley with sudden suspicion. The brilliant reflections from the crystalline ground sparkled in the murky atmosphere, but there was an unnatural stillness in the air that roused the hackles on the back of his neck.

  “Just a fair and even exchange,” he murmured, as the small, bent form of the leader, Aton, was transferred to the group of Radion creatures. “Somehow,” he said, glancing sharply at the German officers, “it doesn’t seem quite in keeping with the Nazi tradition.”

  “What do you mean?” Oberleutnant Schiller demanded sharply.

  “I’m not quite sure,” Jim said quietly. He looked in silent pity at the small figure of Aton, the leader of these people, and then his gaze swung to Dexlon.

  “Watch yourself, chum,” he said. “There’s something about this deal that stinks.”

  “Schweinhund!” the German officer roared. “Hold your tongue!”

  He drew his Luger and levelled it at Jim.

  “You come with us,” he ordered. “You are going to answer a few questions, and then I think you will be soon meeting your ancestors in Valhalla.”

  His aide prodded Phil Roberts in the back with his gun and ordered him to march. The two Americans were herded across the flat barren wastes of the valley, in a direction opposite to that the small group of Radion creatures had taken.

  Jim looked over his shoulder just as the last of the small group of strange creatures filed out of sight into the single passageway that led from the valley.

  He turned and plodded on, but he had not covered a dozen steps when a sudden volley of gunfire broke the silence, ringing clearly in the brooding atmosphere of the valley.

  The Oberleutnant smiled thoughtfully.

  “Well, well,” he murmured, as another burst of fire sounded; “perhaps the little creatures of Radion have run into one of our scouting patrols. A pity, isn’t it, that the patrol probably wouldn’t know anything about the terms of our little parley?”

  “You damn murderer!” Jim blazed. “You had no intention of keeping your word.”