Slaves of Mercury

by Nathan Schachner

  CHAPTER XIII

  _The Last Battle_

  Dawn found the little band still struggling over the thick-forestedmountains in a desperate attempt to avoid detection. They werefootsore, weary, their clothes shredded by innumerable sharp thorns,their eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. Overhead, the paling sky wasalready dotted with the fliers of the Mercutians; faint sounds came tothem of the clumsy thrashing of enemy patrols as they beat the woodsfor the fugitives. The Mercutians were putting forth all theirresources to seek out and destroy these irritant foci of revolt.

  At length Hilary called a halt. They were in a little valley, not farfrom Bear Mountain. It offered some protection from the searchers. Theenclosing hills would mask them, from all but search beams directlyoverhead.

  "It is no use going any farther," he said wearily. "We all need sleepand rest. Sooner or later they'll find us, no matter where we go, andthen--" He shrugged his shoulders.

  The weary, panting men threw themselves down upon the ground, tootired even to eat. Immediately they were in a drugged sleep. Joan wassleeping too, her face pale drawn, but like a little child's in herslumber. Hilary watched her with a sharp pang in his heart. What wouldthe next few hours bring to her, to all of them?

  Nor did Grim and Wat sleep either. The three of them squatted on theirheels, silent, as the cold dawn wind swept with a great sigh throughthe valley.

  The stars were paling now, the purple sky was enswathing itself inpearly grays. Something glowed pinkly overhead; and was extinguishedalmost immediately by the prevailing gray.

  Hilary started violently. "Did you see that?"

  "See what?" Grim was drunk for lack of sleep.

  Hilary was on his feet, peering upward. "I thought I saw--there, thereit is again."

  The other two were on their feet also, weariness forgotten, headsthrown back.

  High overhead, in the overturned cup of the sky, an irregular pinkwisp formed before their wondering eyes, and vanished again. But moreslowly, than the first time.

  "Well?" asked Wat, puzzled.

  "A cloud." Hilary's voice was a prayer.

  "Hell," said Wat disgustedly. "If that's a cloud I'm a Mercutian.There wouldn't be enough water there to moisten a canary seed."

  "And even if there were it wouldn't matter now," said Grim calmly."We're discovered."

  * * * * *

  A long slim flier shot athwart the brightening sky, paused suddenly inflight as though jerked by an invisible string. The next instant thevalley was illumined by a transparent glow. It enveloped the Earthmen,made crystal figurines of the most solid among them. They seemed likewraiths through which, as in a glass, more could be seen beyond. Thesolid ground, the rocks, were transparencies floating in an ocean ofairy nothingness. A search beam!

  The flier hung steady, high overhead, holding them in the dissolvingarea of his beam. Too high to ray them but also too high for theirfutile bullets. The Mercutians no longer underrated the fightingabilities of their erstwhile slaves.

  "He's sending out messages for help," observed Hilary.

  "Let's take it on the run," Wat suggested.

  "No good. Where could we run to that his beam couldn't follow?"

  "Well, we can only die once," Wat observed cheerfully.

  "And take as many Mercutians with us as we can," Grim amended. "That'sone lucky thing. Their rays have no greater range than our bullets."

  "Except the diskoids," said Hilary. "Here's your chance, Wat, to playwith your rattle."

  The red head, who had lugged the heavy machine gun all the way withhim, patted its snout affectionately. "It plays the devil's tattoo,"he said.

  More fliers materialized in the by now brighter blue of early morning.The sun was just peeping over the serrated tops of the mountains. Butstill they did not attack.

  "Afraid of us," Wat chuckled. "Bet they'll send to Mercury for thewhole damn army before they come for us."

  * * * * *

  The first shock was over. With the inevitable staring them in theface, the men had achieved something of a gay recklessness. Hilaryfound some natural recessions under overhanging masses of rocks thatwould afford protection from the searing power of the rays. To beeffective, the fliers would have to land in the valley or fly low,thus exposing themselves to the raking fire of the Earthmen's weapons.Hilary posted his little band skilfully underneath these naturalshelters in such a way that they would be able to command the bit ofsky from every angle.

  The men jerked and fidgeted. The heavens darkened with massed fliers,and still they came. The Mercutians were taking no chances.

  "Plenty of guests at our funeral," Wat chuckled, sighting along thebarrel of his gun.

  Hilary left the jesting to the others. He was watching the skiesintently.

  Joan slipped her arm through his. "You see something that we don't.What is it?"

  He nodded with an intent frown. "There are clouds forming up there.The first I've seen since I came back to this planet. Rain clouds,too, if I know anything about it. Look."

  Joan tilted her head backward. Thin scuds of vapor darted across thesky, driven by the morning breeze; dissolved and reformed a littlefarther on. Tenuous wisps, evanescent, wraithlike. The sun shonesteadily, unobscured.

  "Those little things," said Joan unbelievingly. "Why, if that's allyou're depending on, we're finished."

  "Nevertheless they are rain clouds. But _when_ the rain will come isanother matter. Very likely too late."

  Grim came hurriedly over from his post near the entrance to the littlevalley. His face was placid as ever, but his eyes were worried.

  "We are being surrounded," he stated calmly.

  * * * * *

  Hilary sprang to his feet. "What do you mean?"

  "Listen. Do you hear it?"

  Far down the overgrown trail they had followed into the valley camethe noise of heavy stumbling feet, innumerable feet.

  "They are taking no chances," said Grim, his countenance unchanged.

  Hilary looked swiftly around. The valley was a cul-de-sac, surroundedon three sides of its narrow oblong by precipitous hills. From thefourth side, the Mercutians were coming--an army, from the sound ofthem. Overhead were a hundred fliers, and more coming. The trap wassprung!

  Hilary's voice rang out. "All men without guns down the valley torepel invaders. Those with guns remain at your positions; watch thefliers. Wat Tyler in command."

  With a joyous cry the Earthmen started for the narrow mouth of thevalley, all without guns. Gone was the helpless feeling of before; nowthey could fight too. Axes, spades, pitchforks, sticks and stoneseven, were their weapons.

  Hilary thrust his automatic into Joan's hand. "You use it, dear. Iwon't need it. Come on, Grim."

  Morgan smiled slowly, handed over his dynol pistol without a word to aweaponless man and stalked after his leader. His great hand clutchedand unclutched unconsciously. This was what he wanted, hand-to-handfighting.

  * * * * *

  By the time they reached the foot of the valley, the noise of theoncoming Mercutians sounded like the rumbling of thunder. Secure intheir numbers there was no thought of concealment.

  The Earthmen were pitifully few, only thirty of them, and wretchedlyarmed. Hilary disposed of them up the slope of the hill on eitherside, set them to loosening jutting boulders. He was in command on oneslope. Grim on the other.

  In a minute the Mercutians would be upon them. A simultaneous attack,no doubt; the fliers dropping low to loose their deadly rays fromabove as the land force attacked with their hardly less deadly handrays.

  Hilary shot a last hasty glance aloft. His heart gave a great bound.The thin insubstantial vapors of a little before had solidified, takenon a grosser leaden hue. The sky was a sullen gray, shot throughintermittently with the broad flares of a sun valiantly struggling toreassert its long undisputed sway. Little flickers of lightning playedaround the ragged edg
es of the clouds.

  To the most unobservant it was evident now that a storm was in themaking. But might it not be too late? The sun still shone, and as longas its light pierced through, the weapons of the Mercutians held alltheir deadly potency.

  The alien invaders sensed the urgent necessity for quick action, forthe fliers were dropping now, hundreds of them, to within range.Hilary heard the shouted orders of the Mercutians Cors, the crashingforward of a mighty host, and then the front of the attack burst outof the trees in an engulfing flood of gigantic unwieldy bodies andgray warty faces.

  A quick view of the stout ungainly Viceroy, Artok, another of thecoldly saturnine visage of Urga in the front rank, and with a roar ofgutturals, the attack was on.

  * * * * *

  Down from above came a myriad blinding flashes, turning the inclosedvalley into an inferno of heat and rocking, boiling, shattered ground.Up the valley shot the massed hand rays of the hundreds as they sweptalong in close-packed trot.

  It seemed as if nothing could exist in that blazing, screaming hell.Hilary, stunned, shaken, scorched, felt as if he were the only onealive. Yet as the front of the attack washed up before him, he did nothesitate. He sprang to his feet, swung the nicely hefted long-handledax he had picked up, uttered a war whoop that went back to remoteancestors, and flung himself headlong into the boiling mass ofMercutians.

  As he did so, he caught a fleeting, comforting glimpse of Grim risingto his full height on the other slope, huge hands raised, and crashingdown barehanded, silent, into the ranks of the enemy. A cheer went up,a faint ragged cheer, and other figures popped up out of nowhere anddropped feet first into the fray.

  Hilary found himself engulfed in a welter of figures that toweredheads above him. His ax swung up and down, bit into something soft andyielding. The Mercutian screamed horribly; blood spouted from hiswide-split shoulder. He fell stumbling to his knees, and Hilarystepped into the little open space. That gave him more elbow room. Afurious towering monster swung his tube around in the press. Hilaryducked as the sizzling ray sped over his head. There were howls ofpain as the spreading beam cut a burning swath through the packedMercutians.

  Thereafter no more tubes were raised. The quarters were too close. Itwas to be hand-to-hand fighting; thousands of giant Mercutians againsta handful of puny Earthmen.

  * * * * *

  Hilary swung his red-dripping ax in ever-widening circles. At everyswing a Mercutian tumbled. A little space opened around him, literallyhewn out of living flesh. But with strange fierce cries he threwhimself again and again into the wall of bodies. There and there onlywas salvation possible where the sun-tubes could not be used.

  Far over to one side he caught glimpses of bodies in violentupheavings, bodies that thrust explosively to either side as from thesharp prow of an invisible ship. Then a great figure heaved staggeringinto view, bloody, gashed, great arms encircling Mercutian heads,smashing them together like eggshells, flinging them apart, seizingothers. Grim Morgan, berserk with bare hands.

  Here and there in his own travail Hilary sighted little foci ofstruggle, Earthmen with ax and pitchfork and spade battling valiantlyin a sea of Mercutians. A swirl, an eddy, and all too often a suddensurge and flowing of gray warty faces, and smooth rippleless headswhere an Earthman had gone down, trampled into pulp.

  Hilary's first rush with swinging flashing ax had caught theMercutians unawares. They had relied upon their sun-tubes, and in themelee succeeded only in inflicting frightful havoc on their own kind.Now, however, they came for Hilary in a solid mass, hugethree-fingered hands flailing, seeking to thrust him down by sheerweight of numbers. He swung and swung again, the ax bit deep, butstill they came. His arm grew weary from so much slaughter, it rosemore and more slowly, and then it rose no more. The bloody ax waswrenched from his nerveless fingers, and he was down, smothered byinnumerable trampling bodies. Over him the tide swirled smooth. Heavyfeet kicked and battered at his body, hands reached down to pluck andrip at him.

  * * * * *

  Feebly he tried to fend them off, but the shodden hoofs smashed himdown again, gouged at his unprotected face. He struggled, but soon hewould not struggle any more.

  From afar came to his dimming ears below, a huge shout that shook theground. Feet pounded him down into semi-unconsciousness; there was amighty shuffling to and fro over him, and then the feet were gone. Ahuge well-remembered hand, caught him, heaved him upright. It wasGrim. His face was a wreck, battered out of all semblance, but thoseblue mild eyes were flaming with an unholy light.

  Hilary tottered, and the giant shook him.

  "Wake up," he bawled; "they're coming again."

  With a great effort Hilary cleared his numbed brain, saw theresurgence of the temporarily beaten herd. His fists clenchedautomatically.

  "Good boy," Grim whooped. "Let's get them."

  Then they were engulfed, fighting back to back. Hilary seemed to befighting in a dream. He never had a clear conception of what happened.Faces thrust themselves into his own, furious, contorted; his fistwent out mechanically, thudded against something soft, and the facedisappeared. Hands reached plucking for him; he thrust them off, andswung left and right again.

  Once he looked dully upward. The sky was gray slate now, festoonedwith bellying black. No sign of the sun; not the least ray couldpierce. The fliers hung aimless overhead, no sparkle to their hulls.The valley was dark too; the terrible rays had ceased raking it withan inferno of heat.

  * * * * *

  Just before he lowered his upflung face to smash his fist into anotherface, something wet blobbed on his forehead. A raindrop? Perhaps, buthe was too far gone to care now. Life was an endless series of howlingMercutians to thrust fists into.

  A cheer rose high, punctured by quick sharp explosions of sound. Guns.Those few remaining of the fighting Earthmen farther up the valley, nolonger menaced by the futile fliers, had come down to help theirweaponless brethren. Wat's voice was shrill in the land, yelling,exhorting, screaming. A familiar _rat-a-tat-a-tat_ came down thewind. The submachine gun was spitting steel-jacketed death. Where wasJoan? Hilary wondered wearily.

  A face towered over him, a face he knew. Urga. The Mercutian was nolonger impassive; his gray countenance was distorted with hideoushate. "I'll break you in two," he mouthed, and lunged for Hilary.

  The Earthman came out of his daze at the sight of the other. Strengthseemed to flow back into his weary body. His fist came up, clean withall the power that was left in him. It went home with asoul-satisfying crunch. Urga's gray gash of a mouth seemed to smearslowly over the rest of his face. A wild animal scream burst from himas he sagged. Then a swirl of other Mercutians anxious to get at theEarthman eddied him out of view.

  Hilary felt better. Now he could die content. Even with their guns,what could a handful of Earthmen do against the resistless,ever-coming tide of Mercutians, thousands of them?

  * * * * *

  It was raining now, slowly at first, large scattered drops, thenheavier and heavier, until the fogged air was a driving sheet ofwater.

  What of it?--thought Hilary bitterly as he fought and slipped andstumbled in the slimy, bloody muck that was now the ground. TheMercutians' weapons were useless, but they did not need them any more.Sheer numbers would overwhelm the Earthmen.

  Then to his amazement something happened. The heavens, long outragedby the artificial repression of the weather machine, kicked over alltraces and opened their sluices in earnest. The sky was one vastwaterfall. The elements roared and rocked; the valley was knee deepalready in a spate of waters.

  Hilary splashed and waded after his enemies. But they were going. Theystaggered and trembled in every shaking limb, heedless now of theEarthmen. They slipped and fell into the flood, and stayed there,motionless under the waters. Like Pharaoh's army they were beingdrowned before the amazed Earthmen's very eyes.

  On t
heir own planet it never rained; there was no water except forcarefully hoarded underground lakes. This first taste of real Earthweather was too much for them. They could not withstand the drivingrain, the water swirling round their knees. All the strength went outof their shaggy frames, their knees buckled and down they went,helpless, destroyed by a natural phenomenon to which they wereunaccustomed. They had actually been smothered by the humidity!

  Hilary's voice was strong again. With great shouts, he rallied hismen. A pitiful handful; only fifteen of the fifty that had entered thevalley. But Joan was alive, her face black with burned skin, otherwiseunhurt. Wat's grin rose superior to a mask of raw flesh, and Grim,bleeding from a hundred wounds, was still a tower of strength.

  * * * * *

  It was a strange sight as they stood almost waist deep in the flood,the storm beating down upon them, hundreds and hundreds of bodiesfloating, bumping against them.

  "We must clinch our victory, men," Hilary shouted above the roar ofthe elements. "We must go to arouse the Earth, sweep the Mercutiansinto the oceans while the storm lasts, or all our work will go fornaught."

  A great cheer went up from the little band, and without resting,without food or sleep, they waded their way out of the valley, intocivilization once more, carrying their message, arousing the peoples,gathering to themselves like a tiny snowball rolling down amountainside, a huge swelling army of jubilant Earthmen, Earthwomen,too, moving in resistless flood down upon New York.

  The rest is history. Like a torrent they swept down upon the cowed,weakened Mercutians. Those that did not escape in the great diskoidsback to their own torrid, waterless planet were searched out, torn topieces by the infuriated Earth peoples.

  For five days and five nights the storm raged, all over the world. Thefloodgates were opened; outraged nature was taking her revenge. Forfive days and five nights the sun was hidden behind bucketing grayskies. And for five days and five nights, Americans, English, Chinese,Zulus, Australians, Russians, Bushmen, Argentinians, animated by acommon purpose, rose gleefully and smote the invaders. When the sunfinally peeped once more from behind the thick blanket of clouds, nota Mercutian remained. Few had escaped; the rest would never seeMercury again.

  "We've won," Joan sighed happily, after it was all over, and was ableto nestle once more comfortably in Hilary's arms. "Thanks to you."

  "You forget Grim Morgan and Wat Tyler, dear."

  "Ye-es, they helped, too," she admitted grudgingly; "but without you,what could they have done?"

  Hilary started to protest, but over her crown of shining hair, he sawGrim and Wat watching him, grinning like two monkeys. Wat's thumb wasraised to his nose in an immemorial gesture.

  "You're right," said Hilary defiantly. "What could they have done?"

  * * * * *