by Anthology
"You doubt whether it is effective? Well, I can't give you any proof now; I can only say that when I was back on Mars, fooling with my first cumbersome projector, which produced only the weakest of vibrations, I blasted a big hole in the wall of my apartment, and nearly killed the Martian physician who lived in the rooms next to mine. I had a devil of a time explaining the explosion, and narrowly missed getting myself into serious trouble. In a few days I shall try to sell the weapon to the Earth Government. If they are convinced of its value, and I don't see how they can help but be convinced, our friend from the Red Planet will have to be very careful if he tries anything."
Shelby glanced at his wrist watch. "Eleven thirty—my bed time," he said with mock seriousness. "But Jan, there's one favor I want to ask you before I go. Try not to see anymore of Hekalu Selba, Akar."
Janice Darell made a valiant attempt to act the part of one whose pride and sense of freedom had been deeply outraged. "Mr. Shelby," she said, "what right have you to tell me what I shall or shall not do?" But a light laugh broke from her lips and spoiled her bluff.
"There are two reasons," replied her companion seriously. "First, because we both believe that Hekalu Selba is dangerous; second—because I love you." He leaned closer toward her with the light of eagerness in his eyes. "Oh, I know I'm crude, Jan," he said passionately. "I'm just a clumsy engineer, not a poet or ladies' man. What I'm trying to say to you must seem awfully trite, but anyway, I want you with me always."
"You mean—?"
He nodded.
"All right, Austin," she said quietly, looking straight into his eyes.
His arms crept around her, and now he drew her gently to him.
Some moments later, in the nearby pergola, the door which led to the rooms below opened, and an ancient negro clad in gaudy pajamas and bathrobe peered out into the garden. He saw the pair and recognized the girl. A happy grin came over his wrinkled black face. "Well, if dat ain't a mos' pretty sight to look at," he muttered. "My baby done come back at las', and dat sho' am a han'some boy she got dar!" He turned, and leaving the door open and the light burning on the stair, descended. Very softly and wistfully he was crooning an old darky love song.
It was an hour later before Shelby's craft whirred up into the moon-bathed night over the winking lights of the city. And at the same time the big-eyed Sadu moth which had been crouching in the cypress tree, rose on its velvety wings and sped away, as though some urgent mission had suddenly claimed its attention.
Chapter III
Hekki's Proposal
When Shelby reached his apartment, he immediately donned his laboratory smock and set to work. But he had scarcely finished mounting a tiny coil of wire within the hand-grip of his weapon, when the view-phone bell rang insistently.
The inventor pulled off his smock and threw it over the materials on his work bench, so that the person at the other end of the view-phone connection, whoever it was, would not be able to see them. Then he snapped the television and audio switches. The mists in the view-plate cleared, and there before him, as real as though he were actually in the room, sat Hekalu Selba. The Martian's eyes gleamed with suppressed excitement.
"Mr. Shelby," he was saying, "it may seem strange that I should be calling you so soon, but I have something simply colossal to talk over with you. You must come up to my place immediately! I realize that you may be very busy, but this is important!" And he added, "It's nothing to discuss over the view-phone. Will you come?—please!"
Shelby was about to make a cold reply, but he checked himself. An intense curiosity gripped him.
"All right, Akar Hekalu," he said. "I'll be there." The switches clicked.
Hastily Austin changed to his street clothes, and then gathered together the material for his weapon and placed them in the wall safe. Only one thing he selected from the jumble of apparatus—a tiny pinkish crystal, without which it was impossible to produce the Atomic Ray. This he secreted in a hollow button on his sleeve.
For a long moment he stared at his automatic, which lay on his work bench. "Better take you along," he muttered at length, "—may need you."
A wizened black-clad man whom Shelby surmised was the slave Alka, met him at the entrance on the landing platform of a quaint Martian tower atop a huge apartment building, and ushered him into an elevator. He was whisked rapidly downward, and emerged into the central light-well which pierced the structure from top to bottom. The barbaric tapestries upon the walls of this tall cylindrical chamber, the tiling of the floor, which consisted of squares and circles and spear points of various colored stone, fitted artfully together, giving an effect of pleasant disorder. And most of all, the smell of strange incense in the air, told Shelby that he had dropped into a little bit of old Pagar or Mars. Evidently the Prince of Selba was master of the entire tower, which, in itself, was by no means small.
Alka led the way down a short passage, and admitted the Earthman to a large sumptuously furnished room, one end of which was softly illuminated by a quaintly beautiful floor lamp. The farther end of the room was in complete darkness. The Pagarian architects had made it imitate the interior of a natural cavern, for where the light approached the gloom, two glassy stalactites gleamed with a scintillant elfin light.
Shelby had but a moment to take note of his surroundings—the dark hangings woven with silver threads, the embossed shield and spear of an ancient Martian warrior mounted on the wall—before Hekalu entered. The young man saw at once that the noble had lost his air of bored languor which he had noticed about him at the time of their first meeting. His eyes flashed with excitement and his movements were quick and cat-like.
"I see that you have come quickly, Mr. Shelby," said the Martian, "and I am glad. Won't you sit down?"
With scarcely a pause he continued: "I have great wealth, my friend, and while your means do not seem to be small, I believe that it would be very convenient to you to have them supplemented. Suppose I gave you say, ten times as many jewels as are in the tray over on that stand?" Shelby looked in the direction the Martian indicated. He saw a flat shallow container of considerable size. At its center squatted a repulsive thing about eight inches high, carved from a clear crystalline substance from which there flashed countless points of icy, wicked fire—a huge diamond!
Heaped around it were hundreds of magnificent red tabalti, most prized of all gems. An expert appraiser had recently told Shelby that in two worlds only thirteen of them were known to exist. And now he was being offered all these stones by one who hinted that he was willing to give him ten times as many—an utterly staggering fortune!
Hekalu's words fairly dumbfounded Shelby, but they grated upon his sense of pride as well. Nevertheless, his face gave no hint of what passed through his mind. An angry reply, he decided, was out of place.
"Naturally, Akar Hekalu, you want something in return for your amazing generosity," he said coolly. "Of course, I could not accept your offer under any other circumstances."
The Martian nodded. "I have it from a reliable source, Mr. Shelby, that you are the inventor of a terrible weapon—an atomic ray which might be dangerous in the hands of unworthy persons. Turn the weapon over to me as well as all information concerning its operation and construction, and promise to say not a word more about the weapon to anyone, and I will give you the jewels at once."
A flash of surprise passed across Shelby's face but he quickly masked it. So this was it! But how was it that the noble had learned of his invention? Could it be that Janice Darell was playing a double hand?—his Jan. He dismissed the idea as preposterous and utterly disloyal.
The Earthman rose to his feet and addressed the Martian coldly. "If I have such a device I believe that I can place it in better hands than yours."
Hekalu Selba's face gave no hint of anger; in fact he seemed at the point of laughing. "You have done as I expected you would. Your refusal shows me how patriotic you are and gratifies me very much, Mr. Shelby," he said blandly. "You are as a man of Earth should be. Howe
ver, there is another side to the question. I have certain plans and to have you at large might endanger their fulfillment. Therefore I must ask you to accompany me on a little trip. That weapon of yours will be well taken care of. Now, kindly raise your hands high above your head." The Martian was pointing a bejeweled automatic straight at the chest of his visitor. "You are being covered from two other points in this room so try not to cause any misunderstanding," he added.
Shelby saw the wisdom of obeying the order for he felt quite certain that Hekalu Selba and his minions would not hesitate to shoot him down. What a colossal idiot he had been! He had sensed a trap when the noble had called him over the view-phone and yet he had taken no sensible precautions!
Hekki was searching him now. His long fingers were moving deftly from pocket to pocket. They closed upon his automatic and drew it forth. "Ah," the Martian breathed, "it's as I thought. You have brought a souvenir. A most worthy precaution. And, now that you are no longer in a position to cause any trouble," he continued sneeringly, "I may as well tell you about my ambition—Oh, it is simple enough; men have thought of it before but none had the nerve or ability to put it over. Briefly it is this—to become Master of both Earth and Mars! My friends are waiting for me out there beyond the Red Planet—waiting for their commander. And there is another little hope—there is a certain beautiful flower of your race—" Here he stopped to allow his captive to imagine the rest.
A hard light came into Austin Shelby's eyes. It was the only outward indication of the sudden tornado of emotions and thoughts that swirled in his mind. This man sought to enforce his will upon the planets! The question of whether he was capable of realizing this tremendous dream or not, the Earthman did not pause to debate.
Fifty years before, Saranov had attempted it, and as a result a score of great cities became shambles. Certainly the present foe of mankind was more powerful than Saranov. The monstrous associate of Hekalu and the flitting specks of light far beyond Mars seemed to bear out the nobleman's boast. And if he somehow got possession of the Atomic Ray! And Jan—What was he going to do to Jan! Certainly it was she to whom he had referred! It was this last idea which hammered on Shelby's brain hardest of all. A little fiend within him seemed to shriek. "Escape! Send your weapon to the War Office! Kill Selba if you can, for everything is at stake!" Escape, yes, but how?
"Place your wrists together behind your back now," Hekalu was saying. "I have a pair of magnificent manacles—careful. Do not make an abrupt movement."
A crazy idea had come into the Earthman's mind. He did not expect his plan to work but it was all he could do. With an air of one resigned to his fate, he obeyed the order. He felt the Martian fumbling with the manacles. He was evidently using only one hand. The other presumably still held the automatic leveled at Shelby's back. But it was useless to think of such things.
A slim finger touched the young engineer's wrist. He caught it, twisted it back at the same time, then, summoning all the quickness and force he could muster, he ducked low and hurled himself backward straight into the Martian. There was a loud report. A hot pain seared into the fleshy folds beneath Austin's left shoulder blade. Those hidden in the darkness at the farther end of the room did not dare to fire for fear of injuring their master. Now Shelby was grappling with Hekalu. He gripped the hand that held the automatic.
Two more reports—ineffective, and then the two fell clawing and in a heap on the floor. The shaded lamp was upset and its illumination globes were broken. There was darkness. Shelby heard the shuffle of running feet coming across the marble pavement of the chamber. Help for Hekalu! He'd have to hurry. But the Martian noble, racially much frailer than the people of Earth, was no match for the athletic Shelby. In a moment he was pinned, unable to move. The Earthman tore his weapon from him and thrust its muzzle against his recent opponent's chest. Before he fired he saw the Martian's bold smile; whatever failings Hekalu Selba had, cowardice was not among them.
On the heels of the gun's report Shelby darted from the room and down the short hallway which led back to the central light-well of the Selba establishment. If he could only somehow reach his plane! He gripped the doorknob and shoved fiercely, but the stout metal panels were immovable. He might have known that the outer door would be locked! Oh, what an unutterable ass he had been!
Now what? A hoarse cry of triumph caused him to turn. Alka was racing toward him with leveled pistol. A spray of projectiles spread toward Shelby but the slave's aim was bad and none of them took effect. A split second later Alka pitched to the floor with a bullet through his brain.
But there was another to be reckoned with—one who waddled along rapidly on short powerful legs. Its arms were long and black and more powerfully muscled than a gorilla's. One hand brandished a metal knob-stick, and the other, a long-barreled pistol of Martian design. Silvery armor set with jewels that glittered wickedly in the dim light of the hallway crossed the creature's breast. Its head was bulbous, and its face, set deep in plates of shining black chitin-like armor, consisted only of two enormous eyes and a lipless mouth. No nose at all! The horror Shelby had seen on the liner!
The Earthman fired at the monster. The first bullet clinked harmlessly on his opponent's breast-plate. The second thudded full force upon its skull, but apparently the hard smooth skin of the creature was too tough to allow projectiles hurled from a pistol to penetrate it for it did no real damage—only infuriated the monster. Black hard lids dropped protectingly over its eyes, and its mouth worked convulsively. It quickened its pace and brought its own pistol into play.
Shelby had made a hasty survey of the hall and had noted the stairway beside the door he had tried to open. He darted up this, ducking low behind the stone railing to avoid his weird pursuer's bullets. Perhaps in the chambers above he could find a means of escape. He was leaving a trail of blood on the marble steps, and his wound pained him terribly. He felt sick and weak.
When he had reached the top of the stairs, the unknown horror was already halfway up. It had returned its pistol to its holster. Apparently it had been so maddened by Shelby's shots, that only tearing its quarry to pieces could satisfy its lust for vengeance. And the thing was gaining rapidly!
But the Earthman gritted his teeth and kept doggedly on. He fought back the nauseous giddiness that was creeping upon him. He'd have to escape. Oh God! There was too much at stake—the world and Jan—what was happening to Jan? True, he had killed Selba, but certainly the Martian had minions—men who could carry on without him. He could scarcely have built up all his plans single-handed!
Four flights of steps Shelby and his pursuer ascended. Was there a way of reaching the roof and the plane in this direction? And if there were, could the Earthman reach it before the long arms of the thing so close behind wrapped themselves about him? Such an event, Shelby knew could not mean anything less than failure, and possibly immediate death. The fiend behind did not cry out or order him to halt. In fact it made no vocal sound at all. Not even its breathing, which should have been heavy and labored, was audible. Only the hurried shuffle of its unshod feet. Its silent relentlessness was nerve-wracking.
The engineer saw before him at the top of the stair a small doorway, and beyond it a spiral runway leading upward. The light grillwork gate stood invitingly open. Catching the grill with one hand as he rushed through the door, Shelby sought to slam it shut and latch it. He almost had succeeded, and then a huge hand closed upon the bars. One jerk, and a quick grab with the other immense paw and the strange flight and pursuit would be at an end.
But the jerk was delayed. Shelby fired his last round. It did the monster little harm, even though the distance between the two was but four feet. Nevertheless it caused the armored horror to leap back a step, and the moment thus provided was sufficient.
As Shelby stumbled up the dark spiral he heard the thing below tearing at the closed grill. He knew that it could not delay the thing for long. He had just reached the trapdoor at the top of the long climb, when a muffled ripping crash
echoed up dimly from far beneath him. The gate was down!
Feverishly he struggled with the heavy trap. Normally it would not have been difficult for him to lift the rectangle of aluminum alloy; but wounded as he was, forcing his numbing limbs to obey him required almost super-human effort. When he had at last succeeded in hoisting it on its hinges, he could again hear the soft padding of hurrying feet.
The engineer found himself in a large room, one wall of which was curved, conforming to the outer contour of the cylindrical tower. Scattered illumination globes gave a dim light to the place. The room was evidently a storehouse for Hekalu's laboratory supplies. Complex mechanisms stood about, evidently waiting to be installed. There were hundreds of metal drums presumably containing chemicals. There were bolts of heavy fabric and stacks of ingots neatly corded. Set in the ceiling of the chamber were several circular windows through the heavy glass of which bright stars shone. Directly above was the roof, and but a few paces distant, the landing stage!
Escape seemed tantalizingly near, but with sinking heart, Shelby noted that there was no easy means of ascent to the roof. He'd have to try to smash one of those windows. But the monster hurrying up the spiral claimed his immediate attention.
Deeply thankful for the peculiar eccentricities of Martian architecture, he hurriedly proceeded to pile ingots on the closed trapdoor. Each of these ingots weighed well over a hundred and fifty pounds. Fortunately for the wounded Earthman, the distance he had to carry them was only a few feet.
Chapter IV
Capture!
He had transferred five to their new position before his pursuer arrived beneath the trap and began to push upward mightily upon it. Shelby transferred several more ingots to the pile just to make sure that the monster could not enter. Then, fighting off the diaphanous veil of unconsciousness that was trying to drop over him, he looked about for something with which to effect his escape.
