by Andre Norton
Keeping away from that the two Terrans prowled about the installation. If man or any other intelligent life had been there before them, it had been many years in the past.
But Dard, knowing very little of mechanics, believed that it had been robot controlled. Perhaps lack of man-power had made the last war a purely push-button affair.
“Now here’s somethin’!”
Santee’s shout brought him to an opening in the ground. The cover had been wrenched loose by the explosion and its clever camouflage no longer hid the steps leading down into the dark. Santee flashed a beam ahead and started to descend. The steps were very narrow and shallow as if those who had used them had had feet not quite the same shape or size of a Terran’s. But once down, the explorers found themselves in a square box of a metal-walled chamber. Along one entire wall was a control panel and facing it a small table and a single backless bench. Otherwise the room was empty.
“Musta jus’ set them robots goin’ and left. This metal ain’t rusted none. But it was left a long time ago…
As Santee swept the light across that control board Dard saw an object lying on the table. He picked up his find just as the big man started up the stairs to the outer and fresher air.
What he held was four sheets of a crystalline substance, fastened together at the upper left-hand corner. Running through each sheet, as if they had been embedded when the stuff was made, were lines of shaded colors in combinations not unlike those he had seen about the city door. Instruction book? Orders? Did Those Others express their thoughts in color patterns? He thrust the find into his safest pocket, determined to compare it with the microfilm of the doorway.
The next morning they followed Santee’s plan. The pilot, handicapped by a stiff shoulder, went in the sled along with Cully who was able to take the controls. Their supplies pared to the minimum were shared between the sled and two packs for Dard and Santee.
When the sled took off, due south, it cruised just above tree-top level. It would fly at lowest speed on that same course until noon when its crew would camp, waiting for the two on foot to join them.
Dard shouldered his pack, setting it into place with a wriggle, and picked up their compass. Santee followed with pack and rifle, and they went forward at a ground-eating pace Dard had learned in the woods of Terra, as the sled vanished over the rise.
For the most part they found the going through this rolling country easy. There were no wooded stretches to form impassable barriers, and they soon struck an old road running in the right direction to provide footing good enough to allow a faster pace. Insects spun out of the tall grass to blunder past them and hoppers spied them constantly.
Shortly before noon the road made a sharp curve west toward the distant sea, and the Terrans had to strike away across fields again. They had the good luck to stumble on a farm where not only one but two of the golden apple trees bent under the weight of ripe fruit. Pushing through the mob of semidrunk birds, insects, and hoppers, including a new and larger variety of the latter, they secured fruit which was not only food but drink, filling an improvised bag for the sake of the sled riders.
Santee bit into the fragrant pulp with a sigh of pleasure.
“D’yuh know—I wonder a lot-where did all the people go? They had a bad war—sure. But there must have been some survivors. Everybody couldn’t have been killed!”
“What if they used gas, or a germ-certain kinds of infective radiation?” questioned Dard. “There are no traces of any survivors, in the city ruins, around farms.”
“It looks to me jus’ as if"-the big rifleman licked his fingers carefully-"they all packed up and got out together, the way we left the Cleft.”
When they left the farm the character of the country began to change. Here the soil was spotted with patches of sandy gravel which grew larger. The clumps of trees dwindled to thickets of wiry thorn bushes, and there were outcroppings of the same shiny black rock which had nursed the killing vines by the river. Santee shot a long survey about as they halted on the top of a steep hill.
“This’s kinda like a desert. Glad we brought them apples-we might not hit water here.”
It was hot, hotter than it had seemed back when they were in the blue-green fields, for this sun-baked red-brown earth and blue sand reflected the heat. Dard’s skin, chafed by the pack straps, smarted when moisture trickled down between his shoulder blades. He licked his lips and tasted salt. Santee’s comment concerning lack of water had aroused his thirst.
Below them was a gorge. Dard blinked and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. No, that was no trick of shimmering heat-there was a bright gleaming line straight across the floor of the valley. He called it to Santee’s attention and the other focused the field glasses on it.
“A rail! But why only one?”
“We can get down over there,” Dard pointed. “Let’s see what it is.”
They made the hard climb down to verify the fact that a single metal rail did reach from one tunnel hole in the gorge wall to another tunnel directly across. Unable to discover anything else, they pulled themselves up the opposite cliff to continue the southward march.
It was midafternoon when they saw, rising into a cloudless sky, the smoke signal of the sled. And their strides became a trot until they panted up the side of a small mesa- plateau to the camp.
“How long,” Santee wanted to know later as they sucked appreciatively on golden apples, “is this trip gonna last?”
“Another full day’s journey for you two, and maybe half the next. At this speed we can’t expect to cut it any shorter,” Kimber replied. “Jorge’s been working on the engine again. But there isn’t much he can do without other tools.”
The big man grinned. “Well, these here plasta-boots of our’n are holdin’ up pretty well. We can keep sloggin’ a while longer. And there’s nothin’ to be afraid of.”
“Don’t be too sure of that,” cautioned the pilot. “Keep your eyes open, you two. There may have been other booby traps scattered around. Since we were shot down, I don’t trust even a clear sky!”
The second day’s routine followed the first. Except, in the arid desert land, it was tougher going and they did not make time.
Dard’s head went up and his nostrils expanded as he started to pick his way down a series of ledges into a sandy- floored ravine. There was a musky, highly repellent stench arising from below. And he had sniffed something very much like it before! The putrescent remains of the duocorn! Below an organic thing was very dead! Santee worked along to join him.
“What’re you stoppin’ for?”
“Smell that?”
Santee’s bearded face wrinkled. “Yah, a big stink! Somthin’ dead!”
Dard studied the ground before them carefully. If they tried to double back on their trail through this up and down country they were going to lose hours of time, After all, what had made that kill below-if it were a kill-might have been gone for days. He decided to leave it up to Santee.
“Shall we go down?”
“We’ll lose a lotta time back trailin’ from here. I’d say keep on.”
But they continued the descent cautiously and when Dard disturbed a small stone, which dropped noisily over the edge, he stiffened for several listening seconds. There was no sound from below-nothing but that terrible stomach-disturbing odor.
Santee unslung the rifle, and Dard’s hand went to his own belt. That morning Cully had given him the ray gun, suggesting that it could be of more use to the foot travelers. Now, as his hand closed around the butt, Dard was very glad that he held it. There was something about this ill-omened place-something in the very silence which brooded there-that hinted of danger.
A screen of stubby thorn bushes masked the far end of the narrow ravine, hinting at the presence of moisture, although the prickly leaves had a grayish, unhealthy cast.
The two worked their way through these as carefully and noiselessly as possible and found a seeping spring. Minerals salted the lip of the water-fille
d depression, and a greenish powder was dry along the banks of the rivulet which trickled on down the valley.
Chemical fumes from the water scented the air, but not heavy enough to cover the other sickish effluvium.
They should have beaten their way through the brush to the other side of the valley and climbed out of that tainted hole. But no broken ledges hung over there to furnish climbing aids, and they followed the stream along in the search for an easier path.
The contaminated water spilled out into a shallow stinking pool with a broad rim of the poisonous green.
Grouped around the far perimeter of the pool, half buried in the sand, were such things as nightmares are made of! Their dingy yellowish-green skins were scaled with the stigmata of the reptile. But the creatures drowsing in the sun were not even as wholesome as the snakes most humans shrink from with age-old inbred horror. These were true monsters-evil. Gorged, they had fallen in a stupor among the grisly fragments of their feasting, and from those fragments and the smeared sand came a stench foul enough to suggest that this was a long used lair.
Dard estimated that they were from seven to ten feet long. The hind legs, ending in huge webbed feet, mere stems of bone laced with powerful driving muscles. Short, horribly stained forearms had terrible travesties of human hands which curved over their protruding bellies, each finger a ten-inch claw. But their heads were the worst, too small for the bodies, flat of skull, they were mounted on unusually long and slender necks, giving the impression of a cobra on the shoulders of a lizard.
As the two humans halted, a flap of loose skin on the belly of the nearest nightmare was pushed aside and a small replica of the monster drew itself out of a sac and wobbled weakly down to the water, curling its neck over to suck up the liquid. After it swallowed the first mouthful, some instinct drew its attention to the watchers. With a shrill hiss it scrambled back to its parent. The head of the larger thing snapped up, swaying back and forth, a snake preparing to strike!
Dard threw himself back, carrying Santee with, him. They were brought up short by the cliff wall, but they dared not turn their backs upon the aroused monster long enough to find hand and foot holds there.
The thing across the pool was on its feet, towering far over them. With a cuff of one paw it sent the infant sprawling to safety before it slewed around kicking up blood-clotted sand. The flat serpent’s head went down to a level with the lizardlike shoulders, and from its fanged jaws came a hiss which gathered volume until it rivaled the piercing whistle of a steam-powered engine.
That battle cry aroused its fellow sleepers. But they arose sluggishly, too torpid from their feasting to respond.
Santee shot. The nerve-paralyzing projectile of the stun rifle struck fair between those murderous yellow, unwinding eyes. The skull shattered with a spatter of green ooze. But the thing waded the pool to rush, them, tearing claws outstretched. It should have been dead. But with a broken, empty skull, blinded, it came on!
“No brain in the head!” Dard shouted. “Jump!”
They jumped apart. The advancing horror struck hard against the cliff to cling there stubbornly clawing at the rock. It continued to scream senselessly, bringing the others of its kind into full alertness.
One gave a bound, clearing the pool, to fall upon its wounded companion with tearing jaws and claws. The other three appeared undecided. Their snake heads rose and fell as they hissed. One made to join the battle on the other side of the pool and then retreated.
Daring to hesitate no longer, Dard took careful aim with the ray gun and sent a green beam straight into the distended middle of the creature that rocked from one splayed foot to another on his right. The Terrans had to clear a path past the pool, for to return near the fighters was sure death.
Screaming madly, Dard’s quarry clapped both hands over the frightful gaping emptiness the ray had left and wilted forward into the water, sending up a slimy spray of blood and poisonous liquid. With the attention of its two fellows attracted to its struggles Dard darted to join Santee.
Together the humans edged along the cliff wall, their goal the valley beyond the pool. For a few minutes it seemed that they might be able to gain it undetected by the monsters. For one of the unhurt creatures had gone to work on the body in the pool. But when its smaller companion made to join it, fangs and talons threatened, forcing that other to withdraw, hissing fury. As its head swung back and forth it sighted the Terrans. An arching leap brought it after them. Both the length and speed of that bound panicked the cornered men. They scrambled into the meager protection offered by the boulders and fallen rock. Santee’s second bullet tore a hole in the sealed breast of the pursuer without slowing its charge. Dard pressed the firing stud on the ray gun. But the responding beam was weak. It clipped the side of thee weaving head, shearing off part of the skull and one eye, and cutting neck muscles so badly that the battered head flopped erratically.
Dard fired again-with no result. The clip left in the weapon must have been exhausted! His ears roared as Santee shot from beside him. But the bullet only nicked the shoulder of the writhing body. Despairing they scuttled and backed away, keeping in among the rough footing. But they were past the pool, in the middle of the valley, on a course which paralleled a path worn deep and smooth by the feet of the monsters.
The scream of the hunter behind them was cut by a trumpeting squeal. A second was bearing down to join in the chase.
“Ahead— three-four yards”—Dard got out the words between tearing breaths—“hole—too—small—”
He concentrated on reaching that haven, and Santee ran beside him. The hole was a perfectly round one, and from it ran the monorail of the ancient transport system. They threw themselves into the dark, scrambling on until Dard brought up against a heavy object which gave under his weight, slipping on so suddenly that he sprawled face down, the wind driven out of him.
When he caught his breath again he sat up, still groggy. The crack of the rifle filled the tunnel with a blast of sound.
“Got one at last! And it’ll block up that hole-for a while anyways. But it ain’t healthy in here-they can get in -squeeze themselves altogether and do it. What the-!” The big man ended his report with an exclamation of both outrage and fear.
Dard had breath enough to ask: “What’s the matter?”
“That was the last round, I just fired. You got another clip for the ray gun?”
“No.”
“Then we’d better make tracks for the other end of this here tunnel. From the sound back there they’re taking the dead one out-in pieces! When they’ve got that done they’ll be after us agin—”
“Let’s have the flash. There’s something ahead here. It moves ”
Dard put a tentative hand out-to encounter the smoothness of metal. And when Santee snapped on the torch beam he discovered that he was fronting a cylinder, not unlike the one they had pulled out of the seaside tube. But this one was mounted on a grooved fin made to run along the monorail. There was no way of getting past it, since its sides were within inches of the tunnel walls. They would have to push it before them if they were going to get out the other end.
That worked properly for about five minutes and then an extra hard push sent the carrier ahead to stop with a clang. All their shoving force could force it along no farther. Dard flattened himself against the wall and flashed the torch down the side of the cylinder.
“There’s a cave-in!”
Santee massaged his bearded chin with a dirt-streaked hand. “Kinda bottles us up, don’t it? Give us the light and let’s have a look along these walls.”
Several paces back he found a niche, not too roomy and still accommodating some oddly shaped tools which Santee kicked aside.
“Repairman’s safety hole,” he explained. “Thought maybe we might happen on one of these here. Now, suppose we work that there truck past here and get ahead to look at the damage.”
Pushing the carrier before them had been an easy task. But getting it back again was another
matter altogether, especially when there were no proper handholds on its smooth surface. As they worked at it, hampered by their necessarily cramped position, they broke nails and tore fingers raw. The stubborn thing moved with frustrating slowness. While, to rasp the nerves, sounds from the entrance told them that the body which had obstructed passage there was being rapidly disposed of.
At last the car was pushed far enough along so that they could get out of the niche behind it. Without waiting to take up their packs, they ran to the cave-in, only to be met by a hard mound of earth and rock. Santee dug the barrel of his rifle into it, disturbing only a scattered clod or two. To dig a way through that they needed tools, and time-and they had neither as the big man was forced to acknowledge.
“There’re two of them critters left. And if either one gets in here now it’s gonna push that car right back on us. But-if there’s any smashin’ done-I’m gonna be the one to do it!”
He padded purposefully back to the carrier. Dard hurried after him. The picture Santee had evoked, of the lizard things pushing that ear down upon them, was one he didn’t want to think about. He had no idea of what Santee had in mind, but any action now was better than just waiting for such an end.
“All right,” Santee put his hands on the back of the carrier, “put away that torch and start pushin’! Here’s where we give them lizards a big surprise-a nasty one, too, I hope!”
Dard dropped the torch and put his hands beside Santee’s. Together they set their strength against the immobility of the carrier. It moved, much more easily than it had before. There was a low hum which became a steady purr. It gathered speed-moving away from them.
“We’ve started it to workin’!” Santee’s exultant cry arose to explain. He caught Dard and held him away from the entrance as the carrier sped on.
There was a shock of impact followed by a hissing scream. Then they saw the clear circle of daylight marking the entrance, carrier and besiegers were both gone!
