"WONDER HOW MANY more booby traps such as that are hidden around?" Cully glanced down the valley with open
suspicion.
"Not many, I'd say," Kimber answered weakly. "It must have been
only a fluke that those guns were still able to fire—"
His voice was swallowed by an explosion severe enough to rock
the ground under them. Dard saw earth, trees and debris rise into
the air far down the valley as an acrid white-yellow smoke fouled
the air in drifting wisps.
"That," Kimber said into the ensuing silence, "was probably the
end of the guns. They've blown themselves up."
"Shoulda done that sooner!" growled Santee. "A lot sooner! How
about us gettin' away from here?" He turned to Cully who had been
blasted loose from his work on the sled.
"That's going to be a problem. She'll get into the air again,
yes. But not with a full load. Stripped down she may be able to
carry two—flying with a list."
Santee grinned at his fellow castaways. "All fight. Two of us'll
hike and pack some stuff. The other two'll ride."
Kimber frowned as he agreed reluctantly: "I suppose well have to
do that. Those in the sled can make a camp a half day's march ahead
and wait for the others to catch up. We mustn't lose contact. Do
you think you can raise Rogan in the valley?"
Cully brought out the small radio. And Kimber, using his left
hand awkwardly, made the proper adjustment. But there was no
answering spark. The engineer raised the box and shook it gently.
They all heard that faint answering rattle which put an end to
their hopes of a message to those they had left by the sea.
Camp was made that night just where the fortunes of that long-ago war had marooned them. Santee and Dard undertook another visit
to the hidden emplacement. Two of the strange guns were tilted at a
crazy angle, their loading mechanisms ripped wide open, behind them
a pit, newly hollowed and still cloudy with fumes.
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-filled 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, were 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 car 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!
"WONDER HOW MANY more booby traps such as that are hidden around?" Cully glanced down the valley with open
suspicion.
"Not many, I'd say," Kimber answered weakly. "It must have been
only a fluke that those guns were still able to fire—"
His voice was swallowed by an explosion severe enough to rock
the ground under them. Dard saw earth, trees and debris rise into
the air far down the valley as an acrid white-yellow smoke fouled
the air in drifting wisps.
"That," Kimber said into the ensuing silence, "was probably the
end of the guns. They've blown themselves up."
"Shoulda done that sooner!" growled Santee. "A lot sooner! How
about us gettin' away from here?" He turned to Cully who had been
blasted loose from his work on the sled.
"That's going to be a problem. She'll get into the air again,
yes. But not with a full load. Stripped down she may be able to
carry two—flying with a list."
Santee grinned at his fellow castaways. "All fight. Two of us'll
hike and pack some stuff. The other two'll ride."
Kimber frowned as he agreed reluctantly: "I suppose well have to
do that. Those in the sled can make a camp a half day's march ahead
and wait for the others to catch up. We mustn't lose contact. Do
you think you can raise Rogan in the valley?"
Cully brought out the small radio. And Kimber, using his left
hand awkwardly, made the proper adjustment. But there was no
answering spark. The engineer raised the box and shook it gently.
They all heard that faint answering rattle which put an end to
their hopes of a message to those they had left by the sea.
Camp was made that night just where the fortunes of that long-ago war had marooned them. Santee and Dard undertook another visit
to the hidden emplacement. Two of the strange guns were tilted at a
crazy angle, their loading mechanisms ripped wide open, behind them
a pit, newly hollowed and still cloudy with fumes.
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-filled 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, were 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 car 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!