by Perry Rhodan
In that manner Cislarczik eventually caught another glimpse of his quarry—just as they were taking their first drink of fortified water and shortly thereafter entering the pass.
By this time Cislarczik had walked for 10 straight hours without stopping. When he saw Harper and Glannon making their way into the pass, he treated himself to an hour's rest. He had no way of restoring his depleted energy with a swallow of fortified water but events to come would prove that a burning desire to get revenge on Harper worked at least as well.
Without being tempted to take any of the numerous ravines or defiles leading off from the pass, Cislarczik reached the summit just in time to see Harper and Glannon, far below, leave the pass and emerge onto the level plain of the plateau.
Nevertheless, he stopped to rest—for three hours, this time—and only then began the descent. He reached the entrance to the second pass towards nightfall but although he had no more footprints to follow, he knew Harper and Glannon could have gone only this way and marched on into the darkness.
• • •
Mullon decided to forget about the black fish in the pond for the time being. The Mungos seemed much more important to him.
The six little fellows appeared to feel that their presence was no longer necessary, now that Milligan was back on his feet and that they had admired their presents enough and made it clear that they wanted to go on their way.
Like the first time one of them tried to take Freddy with him. While his five companions leaped ahead, he remained behind and pointed over to the western, valley wall.
Mullon had been waiting for this moment. He told Pashen to go with Freddy and find the Mungos' lair. The place was to be marked so that Mullon could fly over when he had repaired the helicopter.
So Freddy and Pashen followed the homeward bound Mungos. Mullon had been worried that the monkeys would not take kindly to Pashen's presence since in the past only Freddy had been the object of their affection or concern.
But the Mungo pointing the way did not even hesitate for a second. He sprang ahead and each time the distance between him and the two humans following behind had grown to about 30 yards, he stopped and stood with his arm pointing in the direction they were to go.
In the meantime Mullon and Milligan worked on the helicopter, trying to find out what was wrong.
Which was by no means an easy task.
Hours went by, yet their efforts had no results.
Freddy and Pashen came back in the afternoon. They had found the Mungos' lair and had been received there in a friendly manner. Freddy reported that there were about 100 Mungos to be found in the lair: a small grotto cut high over the valley floor into the west wall. As far as she could make out from the monkeys' gestures, it was not the only lair in the valley. There were evidently others in other places, even on the east wall.
While Freddy was occupied communicating with the Mungos, Pashen had marked the entrance to the grotto. He said that there was a rock ledge just outside where an experienced helicopter pilot could land, weather and light permitting.
Mullon was satisfied with the outcome. He intended putting the friendship between men and Mungos to use for the benefit of the small colony of settlers and to that end it was important to know where the monkeys could be found if necessary. Mullon decided to look for other Mungo lairs.
Much less success met further examination of the helicopter engine, although Pashen, who claimed to know something of fusion reactors, took part. Mullon became convinced that the reactor or some important part of it must have suffered damage in the crash-landing of the Adventurous and had now broken down—just when it was needed most.
Prospects for the future were now anything but pleasant. The distance from here to Greenwich was around 80 miles and 60 of them were across an open prairie that cooked by day and froze by night.
The fact that the short-wave radio still operated was proof that the reactor itself was still in order, since it supplied power to the radio.
Mullon reported the breakdown of the helicopter to Greenwich and that he would either repair the damage himself or return with the rest of the party on foot. As the hours passed that day, the more he believed that the second solution to the problem would be necessary.
Meanwhile, Freddy and Milligan had set themselves the task of fishing out of the pond one of the carnivorous little monsters that had polished off the snake the day before. This they accomplished in surprisingly little time, once they had the idea of opening a tin can from the food supplies and using the contents for fish bait. Hardly had they thrown it into the water then the pond began to bubble and the black shadows of the little bloodthirsty carnivores shot from all sides to the food. Milligan had to do nothing more than throw out a net and draw it back in, 10 of the little black monsters had been caught and to Freddy's great surprise they did not look at all like fish but more like little crocodiles. They had four stubby legs, crooked fins and long, narrow heads that seemed to be all mouth. Freddy did not doubt that what was involved here was a Grautierian variety of lungfish, on the evolutionary trail from low-developed water creatures to more highly developed land creatures.
When Freddy and Milligan came back with their catch, Pashen and Mullon still had not succeeded in repairing the helicopter. So they had given up any idea of stopping for rest and worked continuously.
The day came to an end. Resigned, Mullon went to bed after assigning Freddy and Milligan to the first two watch periods. He had planned to stay in the valley for three or four more days, exploring the area, and then returning to Greenwich. three to four days was a long time but after the lack of success he had experienced that day he doubted if he would have the helicopter fixed even by then.
• • •
The silence reigning in the deep recesses of the pass was to Cislarczik's advantage. Had there been any sounds he would not have heard the muted voices conversing only 20 yards ahead.
Cislarczik retreated another 100 yards, then lay down to steep in a niche in the rock.
Tomorrow, Harper would have to die.
Cislarczik felt no anger against Glannon. Harper was the man he blamed for all his trouble. Glannon had been friendly and helpful all along and Cislarczik did not intend to make him suffer the same fate he planned for Harper.
• • •
The next morning—almost before it had grown light enough—Mullon climbed up into the helicopter to continue the investigation. His long rest had not only restored his strength but also the conviction that the damage could be repaired, whatever it might be.
Pashen had had the last watch. He said he did not feel at all tired and went with Mullon into the engine compartment.
Not half an hour passed before Pashen cried out triumphantly: "I've got it!"
Mullon climbed over to him. "What do you have?" he asked with ill-concealed excitement.
"Here!" Pashen answered quickly. "A leak in the fuel tube."
He pointed to a capillary tube leading from the small hydrogen container into the reactor cowling. A tiny spot of frost was to be seen.
The fusion reactor used liquid hydrogen for fuel, cooled in a small tank and fed to the reactor as needed by way of several capillary tubes.
The frost showed that the tube leaked in that spot and the reactor was being supplied with too little fuel.
It was still perfectly capable of powering the radio but as a safety feature the motor would not even turn the helicopter blades when not enough energy was available for a safe flight.
"Good heavens!" Mullon exclaimed. "How did you find that?"
Pashen shrugged. A broad grin stretched across his face. "I didn't even think that something had gone wrong with fuel lines," he answered. "I only noticed the frost there by accident."
Spare capillary tubes belonged to the standard parts supply of every helicopter. In a few minutes the defective tube had been replaced and when Mullon climbed up to the cabin and pressed the starter the engine roared into life as though there had never been anything
wrong.
• • •
Before the morning was over, Harper and Glannon reached a point along the pass where they could look out over a part of the wide valley that ran from north to south. Here the steep rock walls, which hitherto had limited the pass to a width of 30 feet at most, parted widely. A narrow but deep gorge divided the pass floor into two paths, one leading northwest and the other straight on to the west.
Harper assumed that Mullon had set up camp in the valley the first day and like as not was still there. He could not find any sign of it, however: the baobab tree and the tents underneath were not visible from the pass. It could be easily reasoned, however, that Mullon would camp where there was a great amount of shady vegetation. The valley Harper and Glannon saw before them was well supplied with foliage, in contrast to the other valleys that they had so far seen or crossed.
"We'll stay here," Harper decided. "If they're still in the valley, we'll be hearing the helicopter sooner or later."
They made themselves as comfortable as possible amid the rocks on the edge of the gorge and kept watch on the valley below.
two or three hours must have gone by in this manner before Harper pricked up his ears. A light humming noise floated up from the valley and a few moments later the characteristic back and forth sound of a helicopter could be plainly heard.
"There!" exclaimed Glannon and pointed.
Far below, just above the grey-green foliage, moved a shining dot.
"The helicopter!" Harper cried out. "We've got them!"
He watched as the craft wheeled to the east and began to climb along the valley wall. Several times it disappeared behind a rock formation, appeared again, and in general—according to Harper's opinion—held dangerously close to the rock wall, as though searching for something there.
Harper observed the helicopter suddenly describe a narrow curve, race towards the rock wall and disappear. From then on the motor noise was muted.
There was no doubt about it: there had to be a crevice out there and Mullon had directed the helicopter into it. After awhile the motor noise died away completely. Mullon had landed.
Glannon wanted to spring up but Harper held him back. "Wait!" he ordered. "That's a dangerous trail over there. We'll have to go over the wall and down the other side... if we can. But maybe Mullon will fly somewhere else soon."
Glannon obeyed. They sat for some time, motionless and silent. Only after an hour had passed did Harper stand up and growl: "Alright then, let's go! He's probably going to be there for some time."
They took their guns and started off.
By sheer chance Glannon happened to turn and glance back up into the pass.
He stopped cold, paralyzed by fright.
A tall, broad-shouldered figure came striding out of the gloom of the pass.
Cislarczik.
• • •
When Cislarczik had awakened, he sensed that he would not last much longer if he could not take the fortified water away from Harper and drink it. He had pushed himself too hard. There was no place on his body that didn't ache with almost unbearable pain.
He had to concentrate all of his energy and hatred for Harper just to keep from simply lying down again and going back to sleep. Staggering to his feet, he picked up his gun and unsteadily made his way on down the pass.
He managed to arrive at the broadening of the pass, where it opened out into the valley, at the same time that Harper and Glannon spotted the helicopter.
Cislarczik moved slowly onwards and finally discovered his quarry lying among the rocks. Cislarczik had to remain well behind, since he wanted to be able to make one sure shot, and there was no cover between where he now stood and where Harper' lay. He had to wait until they stood up.
They did, after one long hour. Cislarczik came out from hiding and slipped up behind them. And that was the moment in which Glannon turned and discovered him.
Harper naturally noticed Glannon's odd behavior. He turned as well but when he recognized Cislarczik he reacted considerably more quickly than Glannon.
Cislarczik also reacted quickly but Glannon still stood like a statue in the middle.
"Get out of the way, you fool!" Cislarczik screamed at him. "You're standing in my line of fire!"
Glannon came alive and sprang to one side, more falling down than lying down in the cover of a narrow niche in the rock wall.
Harper saw Cislarczik's gun barrel emerge from behind a boulder. He waited patiently until he could see the hand holding the gun underneath, then fired.
He missed the hand but hit the barrel. The gun was knocked out of Cislarczik's hands and Harper watched it sail through the air and fall into the gorge behind Cislarczik.
Harper was immediately on his feet. "Now I'll get you!" he shouted to Cislarczik.
He saw Cislarczik trying to move from one cover to another. He remained standing until Cislarczik's well-built body came into view for a second between two boulders, then shot without any hesitation.
Cislarczik reared up with a scream of pain. Harper saw him behind the boulders, beating the air with his arms as though struggling for his balance. Then he collapsed, falling backwards, and pitched over the edge of the gorge, dropping like a stone into the depths.
Harper lost no time. "Let's get out of here!" he cried to Glannon. "They probably heard those shots!"
Glannon came out of his hiding place. Panting, they ran along the pass and stopped only when they were half a mile from the place where Cislarczik had fallen over.
• • •
Mullon had flown to the western valley wall where Freddy and Pashen had found and marked the Mungos' lair the day before. No problems accompanied the landing on the small rock ledge and the Mungos greeted Mullon and Milligan just as enthusiastically as they had Freddy and Pashen.
Mullon, meanwhile, had had an idea how he could find other Mungo lairs without resorting to tedious searches. The monkeys undoubtedly knew of many lairs in the area besides their own so one would need only take a Mungo along aboard the helicopter and fly where it directed.
Arranging it took a long time. But once the Mungos finally understood what was being asked of them, they were all ready to go. The Mungo who played the role of leader had the last word and picked out one of the many volunteers.
Oddly enough, the Mungo which was to accompany Mullon had no fear of the noisy helicopter. It was like a small child which is too young to understand it should be afraid of something. The pitching of the flying machine seemed to be a source of unending fun for it and Mullon had to make an effort to remind the small creature that it had not been brought along just for its enjoyment.
The Mungo directed the helicopter to the eastern valley wall and there pointed to a narrow crevice, into which the helicopter would just barely fit, with such forcefulness that it seemed to be positive another lair was to be found there.
That was in fact the case. A band of about 20 Mungos lived in a dark corner in the background. They watched the helicopter land attentively but without fear and once Mullon's little companion had explained to them in its chattering and hissing language what sort of a visit it was, they were ready to receive both strangers with the customary Mungo enthusiasm.
Even so, the behavior of these Mungos was considerably more restrained than that of those Mullon and Milligan had met on the other side of the valley. Mullon accounted for it by reasoning that he and Milligan were completely strangers here, whereas they had dealt with the Mungos on the other side several times already. What was odd though, was that even their companion Mungo seemed to be bothered by something. As Mullon wanted to leave and search for other Mungo lairs, the monkey held him by the arm and cried something that sounded like "Khek!" several times.
Mullon had no idea what was meant and tried to climb into the helicopter but the Mungo held him back with all his strength, pointing up along the wall of the crevice and rapidly repeating: "Khek!... Khek!... Khek!... "
"What's wrong with him?" asked Milligan.
> "I don't know," replied Mullon. "Perhaps there's a second lair up there?"
Milligan looked up at the wall. It was steep but not in surmountable. There were enough fissures and ledges that secure holds could be found all the way up.
"Do we want to go up?" asked Milligan.
"Yes—onward!"
The Mungo appeared to be extremely happy that the men would follow it. With another monkey, one of those in the horde living in the crevice, it sprang ahead and pointed out a less dangerous route to the uppermost edge of the crevice.
Above was a flat, gravel-strewn plateau which was cut a few yards further to the north by a wide ravine. Mullon went to the ravine's edge and to his surprise saw beneath him the same pass he had come through in the helicopter three days before.
He saw something else too: Harper and Glannon, although he could not recognize them, and Cislarczik as he made his attack. Mullon watched as Harper defended himself and heard the wounded, Cislarczik's terrible scream as he plunged into the gorge.
Milligan had lain next to Mullon on the ground. "I don't understand this at all," he muttered. "What are they here for... and why are they trying to kill each other?"
"Hmm," answered Mullon. "I don't really know myself but with a little imagination I think I can make a good guess."
"What...?"
"Think of Hollander. Perhaps he thinks this is the best means to get me out of the way. Well, we'll find out now. Look! Those two are running away. If we hurry we'll still be able to catch them."
They went back to the Mungo lair, took their companion monkey on board the helicopter with them and took off. Mullon carefully guided the aircraft out of the crevice, then directed it to the right, towards the pass entrance.
"Hold your gun ready," Milligan told him. "You don't know what those guys have up their sleeves."
