rescue you of the asteroids from your oppressors . . ."
Ajax swore, turned off the receiver. He got up, found the spacesuit cabinet, took out his old suit, which he had taken with him when he left Nirvana, and buckled it on. He adjusted his helmet, then opened the lock.
He set foot once again on the surface of the world he had called his kingdom. He padded forward, on magnetic grips, to find the great circular entrance.
He made an entry into the metal world in the same way that he and his companions had on their first landing. He descended into the depths, the huge airlock operating as before; but this time when he stood in the vast area of the highest level inside, it was already lit and filled with air.
Ajax slid open his helmet, looked around. Nothing otherwise seemed changed. He saw no sign of life. The Wuj, if he was still alive, was not in sight and there seemed no evidence of any disturbance in the shrouded array of cylinders and crates that would indicate his ever having been there.
"My kingdom," mused Ajax softly. "Empty, helpless, and awaiting a quick end from the invading Saturnians before anyone ever knew of it."
He felt sad and lonely. Then, resolutely, he shrugged his shoulders, and started out to find the door that led to the inoperative control chamber. He'd make his base there, and set out to explore the rest of the planetoid Ajax anyway.
"While there's life, there's hope," he said to himself philosophically.
He trudged along the metal ledge, light-headed, his shoes sticking to the floor, step by step. He came to the rounded opening of the doorway to the headquarters chamber.
Bending his head slightly, for it seemed a bit lower than Terrestrial doors, he stepped through the doorway.
Instantly he felt himself enveloped in something frighten-ingly strange and sticky. Strands of grayish cord snapped down from somewhere above and around the doorway, snapping onto him, clinging with mucilaginous urgency.
He whirled, tried to turn, struck out, but his arms and legs entangled with the resilient and cohesive strands, he only managed to entangle himself worse.
"Help!" he shouted involuntarily, and in a moment was a tangled mass, thrashing about the floor, hands and legs hopelessly entwined.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
From somewhere in one comer of the ceiling of the chamber something moved. The thing dropped down to the floor, unfolded a mass of long arms and legs, and scurried across.
Ajax, twisting to face it, saw what it was and gasped out, "Wuj! Get me out of this!"
The Third Least Wuj, for that was the being's identity, came to a halt over Ajax. "Oh, great leader," he said softly, "I am glad to see you back. And I'm sorry you got caught in my trap."
"Well, get me clear," answered Ajax. "What's all this?"
The spidery Martian set to work to clear away the thick strands. Exuding some kind of liquid from his mouth, he brushed his arms across the strands and they parted and broke easily. "I set a trap, my king," said the Wuj as he worked. "I spun a web to catch our foe. I thought when it worked that you were she."
Ajax sat up, trying to brush away the last messy strings of the web. "You spun this stuff, yourself," he exclaimed. "I didn't know you could do that except when building an eggweb."
"Oh, it is an art we practice in school," said the Wuj. "Of course we haven't hunted in this fashion since before the dawn of civilization, but we still do it."
Ajax got to his feet. "But who's the foe? Emily? Is she back?"
The Wuj walked slowly around the spacesuited figure and flicked off a few hanging particles. "Yes, your majesty, she came back. She returned a few days after you left, and she brought some supplies, of which I have still my share. She announced that she has been appointed EMS A governor of
this planetoid until the regular surveyors and authorities can arrive.
"Naturally," said the Wuj modestly, "I took steps to counter her claim. I knew you would not agree to it, for this is your kingdom and you are my king. So I trapped her and tied her up, but she got away during one of my sleeps. She is forted up somewhere among the lower levels and we are in a state of siege."
"EMSA governor!" exclaimed Ajax. "Man, what a nerve!" He walked around the control chamber again, looking at the inactive instruments.
The Wuj squatted down, listening and watching him. One of his hands was absently twirling and turning the green metallic ornament he had picked up on the dirt surface of the old Ajax. He was still wearing the adornment.
"Do you know where she is now, or could you find her?" asked Ajax.
"Oh, yes, I could track her," said the Wuj, "but she is armed. She hasn't got her ship, because the EMSA cruiser that dropped her off, took it with them for some quick repairs. But they never returned."
"That follows," said Ajax. "She's in a bit of a spot, too, you know. You see, the Saturnians . . ."
Quickly he outlined to the Wuj what had been going on in the space war. "So I think that cruiser has been called to active duty and it may never return. Emily is stranded here."
"Perhaps," said the Wuj, "if we pointed it out to her, she might be reasonable and accept your leadership."
"Emily reasonable!" snorted Ajax. "I can see you don't know much about women and men!"
He sat down on one of the cushions scattered around the chamber and talked the situation over. It wasn't very hopeful.
From somewhere in the space outside they heard a voice. They both stood up, went to the door. "Hello . . ." the voice called, from far away.
Ajax raised his voice in reply. "Who's there?"
There was silence, and then he saw a figure in a metal spacesuit far away, across the great floor of shrouded objects, hundreds of yards distance. The voice came faint but clear across the chamber.
"It's I, governor of this place," came Emily's voice. "Ajax, are you ready to quit your wild claims and act sensibly?"
Ajax Calkins drew himself up. "Give up," he called back. "Accede to me or you'll never get away from here alive. The EMSA fleet is in retreat. They've forgotten about you!"
There was a period of silence, then Emily's voice. "I'm armed and I have most of the food," she called back. "I can hold out here longer. You give up!"
Ajax shook his head. "I order you to surrender! You're under arrest in the name of the Independent Kingdom of Ajax," he called back.
The sound that came in reply wasn't the sort of thing ladies are supposed to say in polite society. Ajax stomped a foot, turned and went back into the control chamber.
The Wuj squatted down again. "I have spun a number of webs in various spots," he said. "Sooner or later she'll stumble into one."
"Yes, and blast her way out again," said Ajax. "We can't afford to wait."
He wandered around lost in thought. "What this place needs is some way to activate the whole robotic set-up. There must be controls here for everything. This is a headquarters room, but the trouble is that it's locked and we don't have a key. There must be keys around; now the question is where would they have hidden them?"
The spider-type Martian clucked in agreement. "I found some spots that might be the keyholes or locks," he said softly. Rising to his many feet, he scurried over and pointed out several triangular panels set under each of the major banks of indicators. "You see, something would fit over here, slide into this panel, and this projecting point would fit into the object."
Ajax examined the spot. It seemed reasonable. "Maybe we could fabricate a key," he said.
The Wuj nodded. The two prowled around looking for something that might do, but loose objects didn't exist around the control room, and their own impedimenta didn't seem suitable. Ajax's eyes fell on the ornament dangling from the Wuj's wrist like a charm bracelet. "Maybe we can work that into shape," he said. "Let's see it."
A little reluctantly, the Wuj unwound the object and handed it to him. Ajax looked at the bluish-green bit of worked metal with interest. "It's triangular," he remarked, "and it even has a hole in it in the right place. It's too much to believe . . ."
He
walked over to one of the panels, looked at it. "It could be a pretty amazing coincidence," he began to mutter excitedly. "It certainly looks right."
"We found it on the surface of this world," said the Wuj quickly. "It could have been dropped by one of the original inhabitants when making their exit."
"Hramm," said Ajax, trembling a little bit, "here goes."
He reached out with the triangular ornament. It seemed to fit. It did fit. It closed into the panel as if it had been tooled for it, and the projection and the indentation slid together with a definite click.
The ornament clung to the panel now, tightly, like a key in a keyhole. Ajax and the Wuj looked at each other, and then the man reached out again, turned the ancient key.
The dials on the wall jumped; a series of colored panels lit up, and there was a humming noise in the wall and floor. A blank white panel suddenly darkened, flickered, and cleared and Ajax saw that he was looking out on a wide space, from a point somewhere high in the ceiling.
"It's a television viewplate panel, and it overlooks the storage cavern outside," he said excitedly. "Look, I can see all the crates and cylinders." He reached out, touched one of the great series of tiny squares. Instantly one of the shrouds on one of the cylinders snapped off, and the cylinder itself rose into the air, hung suspended.
"It controls the things," said the Wuj. Their eyes were caught at once by another motion in the viewplate. Something was running across the far end of the cavern, racing for the dark opening of what was probably a door.
"It's Emily," said Ajax. He pressed on the square, twisting it unconsciously. The hanging cylinder, swung around, pointed at Emily and darted across the chamber.
"Look out!" said the Wuj.
Ajax changed his pressure and the cylinder which had almost caught the running girl and seemed about to smash into her like a deadly projectile swung aside and whooshed away. Ajax deftly manipulated the square.
Again the cylinder turned, raced back to where the tiny figure of the girl could be seen trying to take refuge behind one of the crates.
This time Ajax brought the thing to a stop just before her.
She turned and ran back into the center of the vast area.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The man and the Martian went to work to obtain full mastery of the many controls in that great headquarters room. It was evident that the systems were a very advanced type, for they responded most remarkably—almost with a correctness that hinted somewhere of some sort of telepathic control. Almost as if, thought Ajax, the squares acted as a continuation of the nerve current from brain to fingertip. I press, I push, I twist, I will that which I am watching to do something, and it seems to follow my will exactly.
As a result of this, it was perhaps a matter of an hour or two before both of them had acquired an amazing skill at manipulating the scene. They could, from the visual plates that opened before them, cause doors to close and open; cause lights to go higher or darker; cause the long cylinders to rise, to move singly or in packs, to stand guard at openings. They caused other crates to open, saw many unusual devices come, briefly into action—though what purposes lay behind them could not at once be ascertained.
Through it all, Emily Hackenschmidt remained corralled in the center of the chamber, her efforts to flee to a doorway always countered agilely.
Other panels opened onto vistas of lower levels in the egg-shaped metal asteroid. Here were many things that would require exploration, but one among them clearly seemed a commissary. Whether it could still supply anything edible would have to be looked into later.
One among the many controls proved to open an auditory channel to the outside chamber, and by its means, Ajax called out, "Emily! Come in and surrender!" They heard her reply clearly over their communications channel. "Never!"
Then ensued a little game of cat and mouse as Ajax worked
to drive her out of her hiding place and into their hands. Cylinders darted down at her, forcing her to jump from their1 frightening onrush. Several low cartlike vehicles were activated and began to chase her, always hedging her away from escape vents and always closer to the central headquarters chamber. It took about fifteen minutes of artful dodging before finally a bedraggled and panting girl popped through their open doorway, the pointed nose of a hovering cylinder a few inches behind her. The Wuj dropped on her from the ceiling as she entered and grasping her hands, quickly withdrew her handcannon from its holster.
"Let me go!" she yelled trying to pull her hands free, and kicking futilely. At a nod from Ajax, the spidery creature freed her.
"You . . . beasts! she gasped, sinking onto a nearby cushion and rubbing her hands. "You might have killed me!"
"Sorry," said Ajax, "but you wouldn't come peacefully. Hungry? he added, offering her some rations from an opened can from the small stock of the Wuj.
She shook her head angrily, so Ajax sat down opposite her and began eating. While he was doing so, he explained what he had heard of the space war.
Emily, after staring at him coldly for a while, finally agreed to join in a little lunch. She spooned the stuff down and listened. Finally putting the can aside, she said, "I knew the battle was going against us, but I hadn't heard how badly. No wonder they didn't return for me."
Ajax nodded. "And of course they have no authority here anyway. This is my own realm, independent of Earth and Mars. You, at the moment, are my prisoner."
Emily shrugged. "The Saturnians will make short shrift of you too. This planetoid is a treasure trove of inventions. Those cylinders you used—they're plainly some kind of robot space vehicles. If they fall into the wrong hands, they could do great damage to our fleet."
Ajax considered that. "It seems to me," he said, "that this whole planetoid was an armory and a fortress in some combat the ancient inhabitants of the shattered planet were engaged in. If so, these cylinders are weapons—space weapons. I had the feeling when handling them that I could make them explode on contact if I had so willed it."
The girl shuddered. "Thanks . . . and you were using me as your target!"
Ajax nodded, then went on, "But if that is so, then let me make a suggestion to you, officially, as the king of Ajax to a representative of EMSA." He paused, but Emily merely arched her eyes and said nothing.
"The Saturnian fleet is approaching. I will utilize the hundreds and probably thousands of space cylinders stored here to fight them. I believe they can be launched into space, can be directed through space, and can be used to attack the Imperial Fleet. If I agree to use Ajax's resources, will EMSA agree to accept me as an ally and as a sovereign power?"
Emily leaned forward, eyes suddenly asparkle, a trim figure in her maroon blouse and culottes, even though ruffled and smudged. "That's a bargain that EMSA may be willing to make now that the situation is so urgent. I can't speak for the top authorities, but if I were you, I'd take the chance. I'll speak up for it, if you do it."
She jumped to her feet, clapped her hands, as the idea grew in her mind. "Ajax," she said, "that's a great thing. Do it, do it anyway! It may save the day!"
Ajax got up, held out his hand. "Friends, Emily, for the truce?"
She flushed suddenly, a little embarrassed at her outbreak. Then she reached out and gravely shook hands. "Truce, Ajax Calkins."
The Wuj, who had been testing more of the innumerable panels, now unstuck himself from the wall where he had been pushing squares, and announced, "I've found what seems to be a radio sender and television spotter. Perhaps we can raise Radio Juno."
At the nods of assent, the Wuj began to flick his manual digits over the squares in that sector. It was becoming apparent that the builders of the planetoid must have had some resemblance to the Wuj's kind, for it was clear that four digits could achieve some far more accurate results along certain lines than two.
There was a humming; the panel showed the black of space, then was quartered on one sector, and the humming broke to let in the routine voice of the Radio Juno announcer. Ajax mo
tioned to the Wuj to connect him, and let him open two-way communications.
When the recognition was achieved, though Radio Juno was plainly piqued at being bothered, Ajax announced himself: "This is Radio Ajax, broadcasting from the Independent Kingdom of Ajax, with an offer of alliance and assistance to EMSA in their moment of peril. We are prepared to place our military resources onto the field of combat to meet and destroy the Saturnians. We ask for confirmation of our role as equal and ally."
Radio Juno wasted no words. "Get off the air, Radio Ajax. We have top-rated priority military and evacuation communications. Get off the air. You are ordered to evacuate at once. We will not send a second order. Keep out of our line of fire!"
Ajax fumed, but at a look from Emily, patiently repeated his broadcast. Radio Juno refused to answer or to acknowledge further communications.
"Damn!" Ajax shouted in anger. "I'm blasted if 111 do anything. Ill make a deal with the Saturnians, I will!"
"Don't forget what Smallways did to you," said Emily softly. "You can't deal with them. Go ahead, launch your space cylinders. The EMSA will recognize you after the event. You'll be the hero of the day!"
Ajax looked at her. It was true that Anton Smallways and his fellow Saturnian agents had managed to make something of a fool out of him. He remembered what Smallways had looked like outside of his humanoid shell and shuddered.
"How do we get the space cylinders into space?" he asked finally.
The three set to work to find out. In another hour, they had solved that, and, shortly afterward, the three were watch
ing through telepanels the assembling of a fabulous miniature fleet in space hanging alongside the planetoid Ajax.
There must have been ten thousand space cylinders in all before the seven upper layers where they had been stored were exhausted. Now, all of them shining in the distant rays of the sun like a vast swarm of silvery bees in the blackness of space, Ajax found the master fleet-commander square. Manipulating it, he drew the cloud of deadly cylinders up, sent it around in orbit, and shot it off outward, away from the sun, in the direction of the ringed world.
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