Vulcan's Workshop

by Harl Vincent

his huge fistsat the squarely-built and squarely-planted body of the Earthman belowhim. But to no avail. Grasping a shoulder and a thigh, Fentonstraightened his thick arms and Kulan was hoisted aloft. Amazingly then,the madly struggling guard was flung out and away to land with asickening thud, smashed and crumpled on the rocks.

  Luke stood swaying on those spreadeagled legs and his lungs were nearbursting from the exertion in the noxious atmosphere. "There you are,Gannett," he howled through swollen lips. "That fair enough for you?"

  In the ominous silence a cracked voice yelped: "Attaboy Fenton!"

  Wild disorder followed. Immediately there was the raucous call of thegeneral alarm siren and a flashing light from the bastion that paled thered mists to a sickly, luminous pink. Full gravity coming down withcrushing force on the hapless prisoners.

  Luke, as he was flattened, gasping painfully under the enormouspressure, saw that Gannett and the rest of the guards were not affectedby the neutro-broadcast. They stood erect and moved freely among theprisoners who sprawled everywhere in grotesque squashed heaps. Queer.There was no way of beating the authorities at this game.

  * * * * *

  Gannett transferred Luke to the dreaded sealed cell in the reductionplant, a room spoken of in hushed whispers by the convicts, and in whichit was reported an inmate suffered indescribable tortures for the betterpart of three weeks. Then he died in horrible misery, for one could notsurvive longer than that.

  Kulan had not been killed. He would recover, but was pretty well smashedup, with a fractured hip and several broken ribs, one of which hadpunctured a lung. It would be necessary to return him to Mars on thenext ethership, due in two days. Strangely, the news brought Luke nogreat amount of satisfaction.

  When they locked him up in the sealed cell for his first period of laborhe saw there was only one other occupant. A tall lanky Earthman withnarrow aristocratic features and keen gray eyes. He was perhapsforty-five, slightly stooped, and with thin graying hair. Luke had seenhim several times at mess and had contemptuously classed him as ahighbrow. Fuller, his name was.

  This was a small room where several slender chutes brought down tumblingcrystals of a silvery salt from somewhere above, emptying it into glasscontainers that stood in endless rows in wooden racks. You filled thesecontainers with the salt, then sealed them in lead tubes and packed themfor shipment. There was a faint pungent odor in the air of the room, anew smell that widened Luke's nostrils and caught at his throat andlungs.

  In this place you were watched by a guard who came regularly each halfhour and spied on you through a peephole.

  Child's play, the work in the sealed cell. Luke went at ithalf-heartedly and he spoke no word to Fuller after the heavy door hadclosed them in. After ten minutes of silence he caught himself watchinghis companion furtively.

  What was there about Fuller that marked him as superior to Luke and therest of the convicts? A good gust of wind would blow the man away; awoman might easily beat him in a rough and tumble. Yet this man hadsomething which unmistakably proclaimed greatness, the same somethingthat gave authority and power to the smart guys of Earth and Mars.Brains--book-learning! Luke snorted.

  Fuller was looking at him with calmly appraising gaze. Luke scowleddarkly, but the keen eyes that measured him did not waver.

  "You're a fool, Fenton," came from the thin lips.

  "What!" Luke advanced threateningly.

  "I repeat: you are a fool." Still the gray eyes were unwavering.

  "Why, you--you----" Spasmodically Luke's fingers closed down on thespare shoulder with crushing force.

  * * * * *

  By not so much as the flicker of an eyelash did Fuller betray the painthat must have come with that grip. He did not even wince, but swiftlylashed out with a bony fist, raking Luke's cheek with sharp knuckles.The blow stung, but was utterly futile. With a single cuff Luke couldsend the man sprawling; with a single wrench of his powerful hands, snaphis spine. Yet he did neither, and the impulse to laugh coarsely died inhis throat. Here was courage of a kind he never had encountered; here aman in whose bright eyes fearlessness and defiance mingled with a cooldisdain that brought the first real feeling of inferiority Luke ever hadexperienced.

  He relaxed his grip of Fuller's shoulder and his big hands fell looselyat his sides. It was that action which saved Fenton. He did not know itat the time, nor would he have believed it. But he was to remember manytimes and finally to realize it, though he never fully understood.

  "That's better," breathed Fuller. And the ghost of a smile crinkled thecorner of his mouth.

  At the old man's warning Luke returned to his own work bench and wasindustriously engaged when the guard's eye showed at the peephole. Thenthe eye was gone and he grinned over at Fuller.

  "How long you been in here?" he ventured.

  "Five days in the sealed cell; ten altogether in the Workshop."

  Luke pondered this. "How'd you get in the cell?"

  "Same way you did--I struck a guard."

  "No!" marveled Luke. "Mean to tell me you----"

  "I had a reason to get in here," Fuller broke in mildly.

  "You--you _wanted_ to get in?" Luke was incredulous.

  "I did."

  "My God, you ain't crazy, are you--wantin' to get yourself killed offquicker?"

  * * * * *

  "No, that isn't it," Fuller explained patiently. "I've a plan to escapeand only by taking the chance of spending some time here could I obtainaccess to the necessary materials. Fenton, I'm a scientist and Iknow----"

  "Escape!" Luke snorted. "You _are_ crazy. Where you goin' to go?"

  "Listen, Fenton." The other dropped his voice. "I'm not doing thisblindly; I have friends outside. And you can help me. You can get awayyourself, alive. I called you a fool and by that I meant that you haverelied too much on brute force in your lifetime and had not sense enoughto realize that this brought only trouble. Combine your brawn with mybrains, now, and do as I say--if you will I promise you freedom. Willyou do it, or do you want to keep on being a fool?"

  Luke bristled, but the earnestness of that steady gaze served to checkhis rising temper. "I still think you're nuts," he growled, "but hell, Iain't fool enough to pass up any kind of chance of gettin' outa here.Gimme the dope."

  Fuller coughed slightly and a fleck of red-tinged foam appeared at hislips. "It'll have to be to-day," he whispered. "One more day in thisplace and it'll be too late for me."

  X.C.! Luke stared, horrified. Fuller had it already and didn't know it.Poor devil; he was a goner before he started this crazy break of his.Strangely, Luke was deeply concerned. It was a new experience, thisfeeling of compassion for a fellow man.

  "To-day!" he grunted. "You ain't figurin' on gettin' out to-day?"

  "Positively--it must be to-day. I'll explain."

  * * * * *

  Much of what followed was unintelligible to Luke Fenton, but he absorbedenough of the scientist's explanation to understand that his plan wasnot impossible of realization. He waxed enthusiastic.

  Tom Fuller was vague concerning his own past, but Luke gathered that apolitical crime had been responsible for his sentence to the Workshop.There was much bitterness in the scientist's refusal to dwell on thispoint. This, too, Luke was able to understand. The bond between themstrengthened.

  "It's like this," Fuller told him: "these suits which enable us to moveabout comfortably in Vulcan's gravity are really quite simple in theirfunctioning. A maze of fine wires is woven into the fabric, and thesewires are charged with anti-gravity energies from tiny capsules whichare inserted under the belt of the garment. The capsules are reallyminiature atomic generators and are replaced with fresh ones each nightduring the sleeping period, since the initial charge lasts only eighteenhours. The generated energies neutralize more than eighty percent of theeffect of gravity and our weight thus becomes approximately the
same asit is on Earth. Such garments are worn by all prospectors and othervisitors to Vulcan."

  "How come the neutro-beams?" asked Luke.

  They are used only here in the Workshop and they operate the same as theneutro-broadcast from the bastion, the only difference being that thebroadcast blankets an area of about two miles in all directions. In bothcases vibratory ether waves are sent out and these are of such frequencyand wave form as to neutralize the anti-gravity energies originating inour capsules. They render our suits useless, but those of the guards areprovided with insulating coverings which block off the waves and thuspermit their own garments to function even when the neutro-broadcast isin operation."

  "Smart guys," commented Luke. "Too smart. How the devil we gonna getaway, then? They'll send out the alarm and----"

  "Ah, that is where we fool them, Fenton. With the radium."

  "Radium!"

  * * * * *

  "Yes, didn't you know? This ore we mine here contains a higherpercentage of that valuable element than any on Earth or Mars. Itsemanations, together with certain atmospheric gases of Vulcan, are whatcause X.C.--a swift destruction of tissue in the lungs and other vitalorgans. And this concentrate"--Fuller waved his hand toward the rows oftubes before him--"is most highly radioactive of all the products of theWorkshop. That is why the sealed cell is so very dangerous to work in.But it is this radioactive salt that gives us the means for escape----"

  Both men turned quickly to their labors on hearing the footsteps of theguard.

  "My suit is already prepared," continued Fuller, when the eye had gonefrom the peephole. "Now to prepare yours. I discovered that thisradioactivity can be used to defeat the purpose of the neutro-rays aswell or better than the regular insulation, which, of course, we can notobtain. That is why I wanted to be in the sealed cell for a time. Wemerely pack a quantity of the radioactive salt around the capsules inthe lining of our garments, and the radium emanations continue theexcitation of the tiny atomic generators even under the influence of theneutralizing vibrations. Do you follow me?"

  "Yes."

  Luke did comprehend, even though the technical explanation was beyondhis understanding. They would be able to defy this terrible gravity ofVulcan. They could fight unhampered; walk, or run--to meet thesemysterious friends of Fuller's. The flashlights and the broadcast wouldbe useless against them.

  The lanky scientist outlined the further details of his plan in swiftwhispers while he worked with the energizing capsule of Luke's garment.

  * * * * *

  Actual escape was surprisingly easy. They waited until the labor periodwas finished, when Chan Dai, the yellow-skinned guard, came to unlockthe door. As agreed, Tom Fuller came out first and Luke held back,dragging his feet and cursing softly to himself.

  "What'd you say?" the guard snarled.

  Luke grinned disarmingly. "Nothin'," he drawled. Still he hung back,scarcely moving from where he stood just within the door.

  "Come on, tough guy, a little speed." Chan Dai reached for him.

  And then Luke was upon him. The neutro-beam flashed harmlessly. Luke'sbig hands moved with lightning swiftness, his left one scooping theguard's dart gun from its shoulder strap and his right closing on theastonished Oriental's wind-pipe. It was the work of only an instant tochoke him in unconsciousness and lock him in the sealed cell.

  "Quick, the chute!" hissed Fuller. He dived head foremost into arectangular wooden trough that was used for the disposal of the ganguefrom a crushing mill above. This chute, Fuller had said, led to theoutside at the back of the reduction plant.

  Across the passage Luke saw a squad of convicts and two guards emergingfrom the lift. Then he plunged down the steeply inclined trough afterFuller. As he slid and tumbled into the darkness, he heard the hoarseshouting of the guards.

  He landed heavily in the pile of gangue at the base of the chute; thenwas scrambling and slipping down with an avalanche of the sharp edgedstone. At the bottom, he saw that Fuller had already started up theslope of the great pit which enclosed the Workshop. Luke darted afterhim.

  * * * * *

  They were hidden from the bastion by the buildings of the smelter andreduction plant. But the loud yelling of guards back there in the pitgave evidence that word of the escape was being passed along to Gannett.Before they were halfway up the slope there was the shriek of the alarmsiren, and Luke felt his body sag with a sudden increase of weight. Foolthat he had been to trust the scrawny scientist!

  "It's the broadcast," panted Fuller, beside him. There is some effect,of course. You're probably carrying fifty extra pounds."

  "Huh!" Luke hoped it would be no worse.

  Fuller slipped into a narrow crevasse that ran slantwise of the slopeand extended upward to the rim of the pit. The going was much easierhere and they made rapid progress toward the top. Suddenly Luke realizedthat it was growing very cold; there was a bite to the foul air, andmoisture from the red mist was frosting his beard. The liberation of thetiny planet and consequent shifting of the terminator was bringingfrigidity to Vulcan's Workshop.

  They came up out of the crevasse at the top of the pit and Luke couldnot resist looking back. Every convict in sight was flattened to theground. They sprawled singly and in heaps, each one a squashed inertthing that would not move again until the neutro-broadcast wasdiscontinued. The guards, confident they would find the escapedprisoners in like condition, were searching the slope below them.

  Luke raised Chan Dai's, dart gun to his shoulder.

  Fuller struck aside the muzzle of the weapon. "No!" he protested, "Nounnecessary killing, Fenton. They're completely fooled, and we'll bewell on our way before they know the truth."

  Grumbling, Luke drew back from the rim of the excavation.

  * * * * *

  Up here the ground was fairly level, but there were many fissures andsmall craters which made the footing precarious. The mists were so densethey could see scarcely two hundred feet ahead.

  "We'll be lost in the vapors when they finally wake up and come outafter us," Fuller said. "And look Fenton, off there to the left are thethree columns of fire that mark the rendezvous."

  They plunged on through the red mist toward the flaming pillars. Thosebeacons, even though they subsided at regular intervals, quicklyreappeared after each cessation. And their brilliance penetrated themists with ease at this distance of about two miles. There was no fearof missing their destination.

  "Sure your friends'll be there?" Luke asked doubtingly. He was beginningto have some misgivings about the matter--the scientist had beenanything but explicit as to who these friends were. And the longer histhoughts dwelt upon the things Fuller had told him the more suspicioushe became. Pretty cagey about everything but the actual getting awayfrom the Workshop, Fuller had been.

  "Certainly they will; they've been waiting two days." Fuller's tone wasimpatient and his words came painfully. "You leave that part of it tome, Fenton," he gasped. There was a fleck of blood at his lips.

  As the scientist stumbled on through the mists, Luke's doubts increasedand he began to lose his respect for the man's intellect and for thecunning which had enabled him to outwit the neutralizing energies usedby the guards. After all, he was a weak and puny specimen. They allwere, the smart guys who held the people of two worlds in their power byexercising the knowledge they had learned from books. And this one hadfailed even in that; whatever he might have been, he had run afoul ofthe law himself and was already a doomed man. Tricks! This trick ofFuller's had gotten them away, but of what use was it without the bruteforce necessary to carry on to a successful end?

  The brawn Tom had spoken of so slightingly was what they needed fromthis time on, and nothing else would save them. Luke had that brawn;Fuller did not. The scientist slipped and nearly lost his balance at theedge of a fissure, but Luke made no move to help him. It was every manfor
himself at this stage of the game.

  * * * * *

  Increasing difficulty came with every step. Now they were sliding androlling into a deep crater, now scrambling up its steep sides with handstorn and bodies bruised by the jagged boulders. A yawning crevasseopened before them and they were forced to skirt its edge for fully ahalf mile in the wrong direction before they found a crossing. And thecold was unbelievably intense. Numbed and silent, with their eyes halfblinded and lungs seared by the frosty air, they struggled on toward thethree pillars of flame.

  And still Tom Fuller carried on, though Luke was now in the lead.

  They had covered probably half the distance to the flaming columns whenshouts arose behind them. The guards were on their trail.

  "Can't--find us," Fuller panted. "The mists----"

  "Hell, the mists are clearing," Luke snarled. "You ain't so damn smartas you think."

  What he said was true. Though there was less light on account of the newangle with the sun farther below the horizon, the red mist wasdefinitely lighter in color, noticeably less dense. Visibility was goodto several hundred yards. Luke turned his head, but could see nothing oftheir pursuers.

  "They can't," Fuller insisted weakly.

  Luke, pushed on with renewed vigor, ignoring him, cursing.

  And then there came faintly to his ears the twang of a dart gun; theshrill scream of its deadly vibrating missile; a violent blow that