by Isaac Asimov
Youth is not noted for forethought. Irene’s hesitation was for effect only, “Well-maybe we shouldn’t go ourselves, but -but I’ll go-with you.” There was the lightest accent on the last word.
Ten seconds later, the two were on their way back to Venustown, and Henry was wondering, if on the whole, it weren’t better to put up two memorials to the fellow who invented kissing.
The flickering red-yellow of the fire sent back ruddy highlights from Henry’s lordly crest of hair and cast shifting shadows upon his brooding face.
It was hot in the Lowlands, and the fire made it worse, yet Henry huddled close and kept an anxious eye upon the sleeping form of Irene on the other side. The teeming life of the Venusian jungle respected fire, and the flames spelt safety.
They were three days from the plateau now. The stream had become a lukewarm, slowly-moving river, the shores of which were covered with the green scum of algae. The pleasant forests had given way to the tangled, vine-looped growths of the jungle. The mingled sounds of life had grown in volume and increased to a noisy crescendo. The air became warmer and damper; the ground swampier; the surroundings more fantastically unfamiliar.
And yet there was no real danger-of that, Henry was convinced. Poisonous life was unknown on Venus, and as for the tough-skinned monsters that lorded the jungles, the fire at night and the Phibs during day would keep them away.
Twice the ear-splitting shriek of a Centosaur had sounded in the distance and twice the sound of crashing trees had caused the two Tweenies to draw together in fear. Both times, ‘I the monsters had moved away again. •
This was the third night out, and Henry stirred uneasily. The Phibs seemed confident that before morning they could start their return trip, and somehow the thought of Venustown was rather attractive. Adventure and excitement are fine and with every passing hour the glory of his scintillating bravery grew in Irene’s eyes-which was wonderful-but still Venustown and the friendly Highlands were nice to think about.
He threw himself on his stomach and gazed morosely into the fire, thinking of his twenty years of age-almost twenty years.
“Why, heck,” he tore at the rank grass beneath. “It’s about time I was thinking of getting married .” And his eye strayed involuntarily to the sleeping form beyond the fire.
As if in response, there was a flickering of eyelids and a vague stare out of deep blue eyes.
Irene sat up and stretched.
“I can’t sleep at all,” she complained, brushing futilely at her white hair. “It’s so hot” She stared at the fire distastefully.
Henry’s good humor persisted. “You slept for hours-and snored like a trombone.”
Irene’s eyes snapped wide open. “I did not!” Then, with a voice vibrant with tragedy, “Did I?”
“No, of course not!” Henry howled his laughter, stopping only at the sudden, sharp contact between the toe of Irene’s shoe and the pit of his own stomach. “Ouch,” he said.
“Don’t speak to me anymore. Mister Scanlon!” was the girl’s frigid remark.
It was Henry’s turn to look tragic. He rose in panicky dismay and took a single step towards the girl. And then he froze in his tracks at the ear-piercing shriek of a Centosaur. When he came to himself, he found his arms full of Irene.
Reddening, she disentangled herself, and then the Centosaurian shriek sounded again, from another direction,-and there she was, right back again.
Henry’s face was pale, in spite of his fair armful. “I think the Phibs have snared the Centosaurs. Come with me and I’ll ask them.”
The Phibs were dim blotches in the grey dawn that was breaking. Rows and rows of strained, abstracted individuals were all that met the eye. Only one seemed to be unoccupied and when Henry rose from the handclasp, he said, “They’ve got three Centosaurs and that’s all they can handle. We’re starting back to the Highlands right now.”
The rising sun found the party two miles up the river. The Tweenies, hugging the shore, cast wary eyes towards the bordering jungle. Through an occasional clearing, vast grey bulks could be made out The noise of the reptilian shrieks was almost continuous.
“I’m sorry I brought you, Irene,” said Henry. “I’m not so sure now that the Phibs can take care of the monsters.”
Irene shook her head. “That’s all right, Henry. I wanted to come. Only-I wish we had thought of letting the Phibs bring the beasts themselves. They don’t need us.”
“Yes, they do! If a Centosaur gets out of control, it will make straight for the Tweenies and they’d never get away. We’ve got the Tonite guns to kill the ‘saurs with if the worst comes to the worst-” His voice trailed away and he glanced at the lethal weapon in his hand and derived but cold comfort therefrom.
The first night was sleepless for both Tweenies. Somewhere, unseen in the blackness of the river, Phibs took shifts and their telepathic control over the tiny brains of the gigantic, twenty-legged Centosaurs maintained its tenuous hold. Off in the jungle, three hundred-ton monsters howled impatiently against the force that drove them up the river side against their will and raved impotently against the unseen barrier that prevented them from approaching the stream.
By the side of the fire, a pair of Tweenies, lost between mountainous flesh on one side and the fragile protection of a telepathic web on the other, gazed longingly towards the Highlands some forty miles off.
Progress was slow. As the Phibs tired, the Centosaurs grew balkier. But gradually, the air grew cooler. The rank jungle growth thinned out and the distance to Venustown shortened.
Henry greeted the first signs of familiar temperate-zone forest with a tremulous sigh of relief. Only Irene’s presence prevented him from discarding his role of heroism.
He felt pitifully eager for their quixotic journey to be over, but he only said, “It’s practically all over but the shouting. And you can bet there’ll be shouting, Irene. We’ll be heroes, you and I.”
Irene’s attempt at enthusiasm was feeble. “I’m tired. Henry. Let’s rest.” She sank slowly to the ground, and Henry, after signalling the Phibs, joined her.
“How much longer, Henry?” Almost without volition, she found her head nestling wearily against his shoulder.
“One more day, Irene. Tomorrow this time, we’ll be back.” He looked wretched, “You think we shouldn’t have tried to do this ourselves, don’t you?”
“Well, it seemed a good idea at the time.”
“Yes, I know,” said Henry. “I’ve noticed that I get lots of ideas that seem good at the time, but sometimes they turn sour.” He shook his head philosophically, “I don’t know why, but that’s the way it is.”
“All I know,” said Irene, “is that I don’t care if I never move another step in my life. I wouldn’t get up now-”
Her voice died away as her beautiful blue eyes stared off towards the right. One of the Centosaurs stumbled into the waters of a small, tributary to the stream they were following. Wallowing in the water, his huge serpentine body mounted on the ten stocky pairs of legs, glistened horribly. His ugly head weaved towards the sky and his terrifying call pierced the air. A second joined him.
Irene was on her feet. “What are you waiting for. Henry. Let’s go! Hurry!”
Henry gripped his Tonite gun tightly and followed.
Arthur Scanlon gulped savagely at his fifth cup of black coffee and, with an effort, brought the Audiomitter into optical focus. His eyes, he decided, were becoming entirely too balky. He rubbed them into red-rimmed irritation and cast a glance over his shoulder at the restlessly sleeping figure on the couch.
He crept over to her, and adjusted the coverlet.
“Poor Mom,” he whispered, and bent to kiss the pale lips.
He turned to the Audiomitter and clenched a fist at it, “Wait till I get you, you crazy nut”
Madeline stirred, “Is it dark yet?”
“No,” lied Arthur with feeble cheerfulness. “Hell call before sundown. Mom. You just sleep and let me take care of things. Dad’s
upstairs working on the stat-field and he says he’s making progress. In a few days everything will be all right.” He sat silently beside her and grasped her band tightly. Her tired eyes closed once more.
The signal light blinked on and, with a last look at his mother, he stepped out into the corridor, “Well!”
The waiting Tweenie saluted smartly, “John Barno wants to say that it looks as if we are in for a storm.” He handed over an official report.
Arthur glanced at it peevishly, “What of that? We’ve had plenty so far, haven’t we? What do you expect of Venus?”
“This will be a particularly bad one, from all indications. The barometer has fallen unprecedentedly. The ionic concentration of the upper atmosphere is at an unequalled maximum. The Beulah River has overflowed its banks and is rising rapidly.”
The other frowned, “There’s not an entrance to Venustown that isn’t at least fifty yards above river level. As for rain- our drainage system is to be relied upon.” He grimaced suddenly. “Go back and tell Barno that it can storm for my part -for forty days and forty nights if it wants to. Maybe it will drive the Earthmen away.”
He turned away, but the Tweenie held his ground, “Beg pardon sir, but that’s not the worst. A scouting party today-”
Arthur whirled. “A scouting party? Who ordered one to be sent out?”
“Your father, sir. They were to make contact with the Phibs,-I don’t know why.”
“Well, go on.”
“Sir, the Phibs could not be located.”
And now, for the first time, Arthur was startled out of his savage ill-humor, ‘They were gone?”
The Tweenie nodded, “It is thought that they have sought shelter from the coming storm. It is that which causes Barno to fear the worst.”
“They say rats desert a sinking ship,” murmured Arthur. He buried his head in trembling hands. “Godi Everything at once! Everything at once!”
The darkening twilight hid the pall of blackness that lowered over the mountains ahead and emphasized the darting flashes of lightning that flickered on and off continuously.
Irene shivered, “It’s getting sort of windy and chilly, isn’t it?”
“The cold wind from the mountains. We’re in for a storm, I guess,” Henry assented absently. “I think the river is getting wider.”
A short silence, and then, with sudden vivacity, “But look, Irene, only a few more miles to the lake and then we’re practically at the Earth village. It’s almost over.”
Irene nodded, “I’m glad for all of us-and the Phibs, too.”
She had reason for the last statement. The Phibs were swimming slowly now. An additional detachment had arrived the day before from upstream, but even with those reinforcements, progress had slowed to a walk. Unaccustomed cold was nipping the multi-legged reptiles and they yielded to superior mental force more and more reluctantly.
The first drops fell just after they had passed the lake. Darkness had fallen, and in the blue glare of the lightning the trees about them were ghostly specters reaching swaying fingers towards the sky. A sudden flare in the distance marked the funeral pyre of a lightning-hit tree.
Henry paled. “Make for the clearing just ahead. At a time like this, trees are dangerous.”
The clearing he spoke of composed the outskirts of the Earth village. The rough-hewn houses, crude and small against the fury of the elements, showed lights here and there that spoke of human occupancy. And as the first Centosaur stumbled out from between splintered trees, the storm suddenly burst in all its fury.
The two Tweenies huddled close. “It’s up to the Phibs,” screamed Henry, dimly heard above the wind and rain. “I hope they can do it.”
The three monsters converged upon the houses ahead. They moved more rapidly as the Phibs called up every last bit of mental power.
Irene buried her wet head in Henry’s equally wet shoulder, “I can’t look! Those houses will go like matchsticks. Oh, the poor people!”
“No, Irene, no. They’ve stopped!”
The Centosaurs pawed vicious gouges out of the ground beneath and their screams rang shrill and clear above the noise of the storm. Startled Earthmen rushed from their cabins.
Caught unprepared-most having been roused from sleep -and faced with a Venusian storm and nightmarish Venusian monsters, there was no question of organized action. As they stood, carrying nothing but their clothes, they broke and ran.
There was the utmost confusion. One or two, with dim attempts at presence of mind, took wild, ineffectual pot-shots at the mountains of flesh before them-and then ran.
And when it seemed that all were gone, the giant reptiles surged forward once more and where once had been houses, there were left only mashed splinters.
“They’ll never come back, Irene, they’ll never come back.” Henry was breathless at the success of his plan. “We’re heroes now, and-” His voice rose to a hoarse shriek, “Irene, get back! Make for the trees!”
The Centosaurian howls had taken on a deeper note. The nearest one reared onto his two hindmost pairs of legs and his great head, two hundred feet above ground, was silhouetted horribly against the lightning. With a rumbling thud, he came down on all feet again and made for the river-which under the lash of the storm was now a raging flood.
The Phibs had lost control!
Henry’s Tonite gun flashed into quick action as he shoved Irene away. She, however, backed away slowly and brought her own gun into line.
The ball of purple light that meant a hit blazed into being and the nearest Centosaur screamed in agony as its mighty tail threshed aside the surrounding trees. Blindly, the hole where once a leg had been gushing blood, it charged.
A second glare of purple and it was down with an earthshaking thud, its last shriek reaching a crescendo of shrill frightfulness.
But the other two monsters were crashing towards them. They blundered blindly towards the source of the power that, had held them captive almost a week; driving violently with all the force of their mindless hate to the river. And in the path of the Juggernauts were the two Tweenies.
The boiling torrent was at their backs. The forest was a groaning wilderness of splintered trees and ear-splitting sound.
Then, suddenly, the reports of Tonite guns sounded from the distance. Purple glares-a flurry of threshing-spasmodic shrieking-and then a silence in which even the wind, as if overawed by recent events, held its peace momentarily.
Henry yelled his glee and performed an impromptu war-dance. “They’ve come from Venustown, Irene,” he shouted. ‘They’ve got the Centosaurs and everything’s finished! We’ve saved the Tweenies!”
It happened in a breath’s time. Irene had dropped her gun and sobbed her relief. She was running to Henry and then she tripped-and the river had her.
“Henry!” The wind whipped the sound away.
For one dreadful moment. Henry found himself incapable of motion. He could only stare stupidly, unbelievingly, at the spot where Irene had been, and then he was in the water. He plunged into the surrounding blackness desperately.
“Irene!” He caught his breath with difficulty. The current drove him on.
“ Irene! ” No sound but the wind. His efforts at swimming were futile. He couldn’t even break surface for more than a second at a time, his lungs were bursting.
“ Irene! ” There was no answer. -Nothing but rushing water and darkness.
And then something touched him. He lashed out at it instinctively, but the grip tightened. He felt himself borne up into the air. His tortured lungs breathed in gasps. A grinning Phib face stared into his and after that there were nothing but confused impressions of cold, dark wetness.
He became aware of his surroundings by stages. First, that he was sitting on a blanket under the trees, with other blankets wrapped tightly about him. Then, he felt the warm radiation of the heatlamps upon him and the illumination of Atomo bulbs. People were crowding close and he noticed that it was no longer raining.
He star
ed about him hazily and then, “Irene!”
She was beside him, as wrapped up as he, and smiling feebly, “I’m all right, Henry. The Phibs dragged me back, too.”
Madeline was bending over him and he swallowed the hot coffee placed to his lips. “The Phibs have told us of what you two have helped them do. We’re all proud of you, son-you and Irene.”
Max’s smile transfigured his face into the picture of paternal pride, “The psychology you used was perfect. Venus is too vast and has too many friendly areas to expect Earthmen to return to places that have shown themselves to be infested with Centosaurs-not for a good long while. And when they do come back, we shall have our stat-field.”
Arthur Scanlon hurried up out of the gloom. He thwacked Henry on the shoulder and then wrung Irene’s hand. “Your guardian and I,” he told her, “are fixing up a celebration for day after tomorrow, so get good and rested. It’s going to be the greatest thing you ever saw.”
Henry spoke lip, “Celebration, huh? Well, I’ll tell you what you can do. After it’s over, you can announce an engagement”
“An engagement?” Madeline sat up and looked interested. “What do you mean?”
“An engagement-to be married,” came the impatient answer. “I’m old enough, I suppose. Today proves it!”
Irene’s eyes bent in furious concentration upon the grass, “With whom. Henry?”
“Huh? With you , of course. Gosh, who else could it be?”
“But you haven’t asked me.” The words were uttered slowly and with great firmness.
For a moment Henry flushed, and then his jaws grew grim, “Well, I’m not going to. I’m telling you! And what are you going to do about it?”
He leaned close to her and Max Scanlon chuckled and motioned the others away. On tip-toes, they left.
A dim shape hobbled into view and the two Tweenies separated in confusion. They had forgotten the others.
But it wasn’t another Tweenie. “Why-why, it’s a Phib!” cried Irene.
He limped his ungainly way across the wet grass, with the inexpert aid of his muscular arms. Approaching, he flopped wearily on his stomach and extended his forearms.
