Shock Treatment
Page 5
of us. Not just you."
"Come with me." Newlin spoke harshly--sharply.
The girl's eyes flickered. "Are you threatening me?"
"No. It's just that I've led them to you. We're in the same boat now.With the mechanical hounds on our heels. They will connect you throughme, now that our trails have crossed. And they'll follow both of us. Howwill you manage?"
Songeen smiled wearily. "One always takes risks. I came here preparedfor--anything."
"Don't be a fool! Protection Police don't stop to ask questions. They'rehired Killers."
"I suppose not. What do you suggest?"
"Run and hide. Come with me, if you like. But suit yourself. I'm gettingout of here. Out into the wastelands. It's almost dawn now. In the city,we're lost. Outside, there's a chance. A poor one, but--"
Light was that gray ugliness that precedes the smeary glare of dawn onVenus. The girl seemed very slight and young and helpless. Again, Newlinfelt that impulse to save and protect her. He could see no details offeature, even her face was shadowed, and not quite human; but her bodywas beautiful, and trembling.
"Are you coming?" he asked, savagely.
"I'll go with you," she said. "You're kind. Perhaps I can _help_ you. Ifthey corner us, please kill me. I don't like--being hurt."
Newlin laughed grimly. "It's a promise. But I'll kill some of themfirst."
"Please," she begged. "No killing--not for me."
* * * * *
Ten hours later, far out in the wastelands, Spud Newlin called a halt.The girl had trudged wearily behind him, uncomplaining and with patientdetermination. They wasted no precious breath in words, and walking hadbeen doubly difficult for her. The protection armor was twice too large,and very cumbersome for such a slight figure; but such garments nevercome in half-size. Children and women are forbidden to venture into thewastelands, except in special vehicles.
Actually they had started out by vehicle. But it was old, cranky andready for the junkyard. In the first flurry of sandstorm, it hadclogged, burned out and died. Nothing very reliable was available in theblack market without more notice.
Newlin accepted the inevitable and proceeded on foot. Perhaps they couldreach the Archaeological Station at Sansurra. He was not certain if itwould be inhabited at the Sandstorm season, but there was a good chanceof stored food and water. Turning back to Venusport was impossible. Sothey went on.
Now he was confused. Directions are difficult at best on Venus, and hisradio-compass proved faulty. He had only the vaguest idea where theywere, and none at all where they were headed. But if he stopped toolong, the shifting dunes would cover them. And if they tried to go toofast, it would be fatally easy to blunder into one of the opensink-holes of molten, radioactive metal.
He stopped and motioned the girl to rest.
She sank down, exhausted.
Newlin adjusted the throat microphones and headsets in their plastichelmets to make for easier conversation. But for a while, neither couldtalk. They sat and gasped, yearning for a breath of fresh, unreclaimedair. Water supplies were low, and already Newlin had established ironrations. Drinking by tubes was difficult in the helmets and the waterwas warm and foul.
"You're lost?" Songeen asked at last.
Newlin nodded. He produced a wrinkled, battered map. "I can't even trustthe compass. I don't know where we are."
The girl took the map in her gloved hands and peered intently throughher face-mask. One finger traced a tiny circle in the film of dust.
"I know," she said. "We are somewhere about here. And over there--" sheindicated a direction behind Newlin--"is the city from which my peoplecame."
Newlin was startled. The directional instinct with which all Venusiansare endowed was familiar enough, yet he would have sworn the girl wasnot from the enfeebled and mutant races of the veiled planet. She was,at once, more human--and more remote. Songeen guessed his doubt. Throughthe fused quartz faceplate, her angular features wore a curious, faintsmile.
"No, not Venusian. This was an--an outpost. A colony and a quarantinestation. The city was abandoned long ago. Long before the atomicholocaust my people fled. Eons have passed. Everything is now inruins--if even ruins remain. See, it is not marked on the map. Not evenas ruins. But we have unusual race-memory. I can see the fabulous towersand arsenals, the terraced gardens and the palaces--as if they stillstood today as they were in that vanished yesterday. And we have thehoming instinct. It was my people who gave it to the Venusians. The onething of value that still remains to them."
Newlin was still dubious. "Unless you're dreaming."
Her finger jabbed at the map. "We are here," she insisted. "And if youcare to search and dig, the city is probably still there, as it was amillion years ago."
"Would there be water in your ruined city?" Newlin asked.
"Who knows? The wells are probably all filled with sand now. Or gonedry, or become contaminated. There is always much radioactivity near theruined cities. They were primary targets when the peoples of Venusdestroyed themselves. Even this desert is mute evidence of theholocaust; if one needs evidence. My people fled before that madness,because they anticipated it."
Newlin snorted. The pre-holocaust Venusians were purely legendary. Nowritten records could exist, amid such conditions as must have followedthe ancient wars. Science knew that at least half a million years hadpassed since Venus was a fair green planet peopled with hearty,beautiful, ease-loving races. Half a million years since the surfacepeople had even looked upon the sun.
"If you're right about where we are," Newlin growled, "I'm stillinterested in that city. We can never make Sansurra with the water wehave. Ruined or not, there may be wells. Is there a chance?"
"Not a good one," Songeen replied. "But better than none."
"Whenever you're ready," Newlin said. "You lead."
Wearily, man and girl struck off across the seas of shifting sand. Greatdunes blocked their way. Some they circled, others must be climbedlaboriously.
* * * * *
From the top of a huge, wind-ribbed billow, Newlin stared at a paleflickering in the dust ahead. In all other directions stretched endlesshumps and hollows. But before him lay a great wind-scoured hollow ofbare rock. Beyond that, crowning a series of low hills, which must havethrust above water line in this shallow part of the ancient, vanishedsea, were ruins.
Even as ruins, the city was spectacular. Massive columns had erodedslowly into stone toothpicks. Walls crumbled into formless heapsresembling the dunes. A few outlines of smoothed blocks and shatteredlintels huddled the ground, half hidden by the encroaching sand. Detailshad vanished eons ago, but something still remained to tantalizeimagination. The few buildings that still stood, and the soaring,fragile towers evidenced an engineering civilization of staggeringproportions. Surface dimensions were still tremendous, and the cityitself must have been of first importance, covering hundreds of squaremiles.
"Our city," said Songeen.
Newlin glanced quickly behind. Still distant, but moving very rapidlywas the string of dark objects that could only be sandsleds of thepursuit. One tiny figure, scarcely visible, was far in advance of theothers. The robot tracker.
He gestured. "They're covering three miles to our one," he told hergrimly. "We'll try to reach the city before they catch up with us.Perhaps we can hide out among the ruins, and--with luck, booby-trap thetracker. If there's water, we can hold out for quite a while."
Songeen nodded crisply. Her voice was strained with emotion and fatigue."As fugitives my people abandoned this city. Now, as a fugitive, Ireturn."
Then she was off, running awkwardly, the cumbersome suiting of herprotection armor giving her bounding strides the laughable appearance ofa lumbering teddy-bear.
Descent into the hollow was riding a series of miniature sandavalanches. Each step buried the foot deep, but the sand gave way andslipped in loose spills. His boots struck hard on rough, bare rock. Hegrunted, fought for balance, then sprawled he
avily. She helped him up,then took off again. Newlin followed.
Over the wind-carved rock, they made good time. Ascent of the long,jagged slopes to the city was heart-killing work, delicate andtreacherous. The surface was like sponge-glass, brittle and deadly withknife-edges when broken.
Sheltering from wind-driven sand under the cover of a great monolith,Newlin and Songeen watched the racing figures of pursuit top the crestof the opposite ridge and start down. Man and girl were too winded andweak even to get up. They dared rest only a moment, then plunged on intothe maze of tumbled ruins. Ultimate exertion had taken toll of theirenergies and rapidly burned up air reserves. Both were cruelly thirsty.The heat, even inside their insulated suits, was