CHAPTER XII
_The Vagabond_
High up, a dark blob against the feeble starlight, something wasdropping; dropping with the speed of a plummet, straight for themassed Mercutian fliers. From outer space it seemed to come, aplunging ripping meteor.
A search beam must have swung hurriedly aloft, for it flamed intostartling being; a spheroid, compact, purposeful, dropping withbreathtaking velocity.
Something seemed to explode in Hilary's brain. A great cry wrenchedout of his torn throat.
"The _Vagabond_."
Unbelievable, impossible. Yet he could not be mistaken. The _Vagabond_was coming home again!
By this time the Mercutians had seen it too. It meant suicide, thatrushing projectile from outer space, but it would take along with itin the crash of its flight a goodly number of the Mercutian fliers.The Mercutians were no cowards, but death stared them openly in theface.
Instantly, all was in confusion. Forgotten the rebellious Earthmenbelow, forgotten everything but escape from the down-rushingthunderbolt.
Hilary, staring upward, could visualize the fliers working desperatelyat their controls. The clustered ships vibrated like a school offrightened fish poised for instant flight. Then they were in motion;scattering, wabbling in the terror of their retreat.
The _Vagabond_ hurtled down among them like a hawk among pigeons. Itssurface glowed with the speed of its flight. To Hilary's fascinatedgaze it seemed as if there would be a terrific smash. But the_Vagabond_ came to a screaming, braking halt directly in the center ofthe milling, scattering Mercutians.
Almost simultaneously the air resounded with staccato bursts._Ratatat-tat-a-tat._
"Good little Wat," Grim danced insanely. "He's cutting loose thesubmachine gun."
Hilary woke from his amazement with a start.
"Shoot, and shoot to kill," he shouted above the turmoil. "Don't let asingle one get away."
* * * * *
Automatics spat their leaden hail, dynol pellets flamed redly, andover all resounded the rapid drum fire of the machine gun, pouringsteel-jacketed death into the confused ranks of the Mercutians.
The monster invaders had lost their heads. Even then, they could havedestroyed the Earthmen with their deadly spreading rays. But thestrange apparition from above had demoralized them. No one thought offighting: flight, safety, were the only thoughts in their minds.
Flier after flier went tailspinning to horrible death while hiscomrades fled in all directions.
It was soon over. The greater number of the Mercutians were twistedsmoldering wrecks. The few who escaped were rapidly diminishing dotsin the cold starlight.
Its work finished, the rescuing space flier settled softly to theground, in the midst of the embattled cheering Earthmen, temporarilygone insane.
The air-lock port yawned, and a slim figure darted out, straight intoHilary's outstretched arms.
"Joan!"
* * * * *
Behind her danced a small red-haired individual, his homely featuresgrinning with delight. Under his arm swung heavily a submachine gun.He disappeared almost immediately into the vast bearlike grip of hisgigantic friend. His shrill voice went on unceasingly, but strangelymuffled, as Grim hugged him. Finally he extricated himself, ruffled,breathless, but still talking.
"What did I tell you, you big ox?" he shrilled. "We'll chase them offthe Earth, sweep 'em out into space."
"Why, you little gamecock," the giant observed affectionately, "I'mbeginning to believe you can do it."
"We thought you had gone for good," said Hilary, holding Joan tightlyto him as if he feared to lose her again. "What happened to you on theRobbins Building?"
"Can't get rid of us that easily, can he, Joan?" The little mansmirked knowingly at the girl. "It was all very simple," he went on."No sooner had you two left us than we heard the thud of a flierlanding on the other end of the roof. The pilot looked out at usstartled. We recognized each other simultaneously. It was our oldfriend--Urga."
Hilary clenched his fist. He had a good many scores to settle with theCor.
Wat saw his action. "I did my best," he stated apologetically. "I ranfor the machine gun. But by that time Urga had shot aloft again.Didn't seem as though he wanted to wait. I heard his whistle shrillingin the air. Fliers came thick as flies."
He spread his hands in a quaint gesture. "What could I do, Hilary?"his voice was appealing. "Any minute I expected to have a ray on us. Icouldn't wait for you two, the _Vagabond_ would have been a littlepile of ashes. Besides, there was Joan. She kicked and struggled: shewanted to stay for you, but I shoved her in the ship, locked the port,and went scooting up like a rocket. You should have seen theMercutians scatter."
* * * * *
For the first time in his life words seemed to fail him."You--are--not--angry?" he fumbled, looking for all the world like abedraggled dog who knows he has been in mischief.
"Angry?" Hilary fairly whooped. "What for? For saving the ship, Joan,all of us? Why, you little bit of pure gameness, you did the onlysensible thing."
Wat grinned from ear to ear.
"But why," Grim interrupted, "didn't you have sense enough to comeback here, instead of scaring everybody to death?"
Wat turned on him indignantly. "Sure," he squeaked, "and bring all theMercutians along with me? No sir, I shot straight up into thestratosphere, and headed for the Canadian woods. Felt we'd be safethere."
Hilary looked at him. "I've heard," he said overcasually, "that anaccident happened to one of the Mercutian diskoids. Know anythingabout it?"
The redhead grinned. "I was the accident. I wasn't staying cooped upin the wilderness. Joan and I decided we'd do some scouting before wecame back; see what was happening over the rest of the world. We werereturning from one of those little expeditions, cruising about fiftymiles up, when we almost bumped into the diskoid. We saw them first;we had just come out of the shadow of the Earth; they were in the sun.I let them have it before they had a chance to turn on their rays. Thebullets punctured them clean; must have let out their air. I didn'twait to see; ducked back into the shadow again."
"How did you get here in the nick of time?" asked Hilary suddenly. "Afew minutes later and there would have been no rescue."
Wat looked, at him in some surprise.
"Why, we got your signal, of course."
"Signal?" Hilary echoed. "I never--" Then he paused. Morgan wasgrinning sheepishly, "Here, what do you know about this?" he queriedsharply.
* * * * *
The giant's grin widened. "Just a little," he admitted. "I'd beenplaying around with my transmitter. Used some of the spare equipmentwe had cached for the _Vagabond_, and stepped up the sending radius toa thousand miles or so."
"We received your call in the woods north of Lake Ontario," Joaninterrupted.
Grim nodded, gratified. "I thought it might work," he rumbled. "Yousee," he explained to Hilary, "ever since I heard about that diskoid,I _knew_ that the _Vagabond_ was responsible. But you refused tobelieve it. So I worked in secret, rigging up the apparatus. Didn'twant to stir up false hopes. I finished it yesterday. When we werediscovered, I started sending."
"It took us just ten minutes over the hour to get here from a standingstart," Wat boasted. "We almost burned up the old machine smashingthrough the air, didn't we Joan?"
She nodded happily from her cozy position in the crook of Hilary'sarm.
Hilary looked long and steadily at his friends.
"Well--" he finally began, when someone cried out sharply.
A dark shape shot over the rim of the mountainside, swooped down atthem in one fierce lunge. Involuntarily the Earthmen threw themselvesflat on the ground to avoid the tremendous rush of its flight. At onehundred feet it banked sharply, a circle of light gleamed, and a longblazing streamer thrust its relentless finger at the prostrate figuresof the Earthmen.
There was a blindi
ng flash, a roar. Hilary was on his feet, bulletsspitting rapidly. But already the lone Mercutian flier had completedhis bank, and was zooming out of range. Hilary watched the flier growfainter and fainter in the starlit distance. Almost he could hear thefar-off hoarse chuckle of its pilot.
Then he turned to survey the damage. The Earthmen were up, growlinglow heartfelt curses. That one blast had been catastrophic.
* * * * *
There on the ground lay the smoking ruins of the _Vagabond_, belovedcompanion of his space wanderings. For a moment Hilary gave way to adeep-seated despair. This was the end of all his plannings. He hadbuilt high hopes on the _Vagabond_ in his carefully laid schemes forovercoming the Mercutians. He stood as one stunned.
Someone cried: "A curse is upon us; let us scatter before it is toolate!"
It acted on Hilary like a cold shower, that cry of despair.
"No," his voice resounded strong and vibrant. "We did not need the_Vagabond_. It never was part of my plans." A lie, of course, but mostnecessary. "That Mercutian saved me the trouble of finding a hidingplace for it. Come, let us march. At dawn it rains, I _know_ it will."
"You've said that every day since the weather machine was smashed," avoice cried out from the rear.
Hilary paused, thrown off his balance momentarily. Yet a second'shesitation would be fatal. It was Joan who answered for him. Shesprang forward, lithe and exalted, her dark eyes flashing even in thedark.
"I'll tell you how he knows. I myself had almost forgotten. Tomorrowis exactly two weeks since the weather machine was destroyed. Myfather, Martin Robbins, built it. He told me then that its effectswere so powerful that they lasted for two weeks, even with the machineturned off. Only positive action could bring an immediate reversal, ofweather conditions. _That's_ how he knows."
Joan had turned the tide. The waverers turned as one man to Hilary."Lead on! We follow!"
"Very well," he stated quietly. "We can't remain here. The Mercutianswill be back soon in overwhelming force, burning for revenge. Wemarch."
To Joan, in barely audible tones: "Is that true, what you said?"
"I--I think so. I remember Dad mentioned a time limit. I think it wastwo weeks."
"If it isn't, we're facing a damned unpleasant prospect to-morrow," hesaid grimly.
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