Dynamon nodded and slid his ear phone off his right ear as he saw the stranger's hairy mouth opening and closing. Keltry followed his example in time to hear the stranger's rumbling voice.
"Whoo-yoo?"
Dynamon touched Keltry's hand. "That sounded like 'who are you' didn't it?" he said wonderingly.
"It certainly did," Keltry answered. "I think that's some kind of human."
"If it's a human," Dynamon said, "then there must be some sort of breathable atmosphere down here. You notice he's not wearing any oxygen mask."
"Whoo-yoo?" the stranger repeated, "an whey cum fum?"
"He's speaking a kind of English!" said Keltry excitedly. "He said, 'who are you' and 'where do you come from'!"
"By Jupiter!" cried Dynamon. "I think you're right. If he can breathe without a mask, so can we. I'll have a little talk with him."
A moment later the centurion stood bare-headed, helmet and oxygen mask in hand.
"We're humans from Earth," he told the stranger, pronouncing each word carefully. "Who are you?"
The stranger's eyes and mouth flew open in astonishment and the rod sagged in his hands.
"Humes! Fum Earth!" he cried hoarsely, then turned his head, and gave an ear-splitting yell.
A moment later, a dozen or more short, hairy-faced creatures closely resembling the first stranger came tumbling through a passageway behind him and stood rooted with astonishment at the sight of Dynamon and Keltry. Their bodies were completely covered, the torsoes, with loose, gray tunics, and the legs with ugly, baggy tubes. They advanced cautiously on the two people from Earth.
"Take off your helmet and mask," Dynamon directed Keltry, "the air is perfectly good. We'll try and find out the mystery of how these humans ever got here."
He turned and addressed the first stranger, again enunciating slowly and carefully. Immediately the whole crowd burst into excited jabbering. Here and there Dynamon thought he recognized a word. Finally, one man taller than the rest stepped forward.
"Yoo cum thus," he declared.
"Certainly," Dynamon nodded with a smile, and reached out a hand to Keltry. The crowd, with wondering eyes, opened up a line and the two young people from Earth followed their self-appointed guide through it. A short narrow passageway led off at a sharp angle through the rocky wall of the pit, and presently Dynamon and Keltry found themselves on what appeared to be a hill top. Both of them gave little gasps as a vast and magnificent panorama spread out before their astonished eyes. It was as if they had stepped into a new world.
A gently undulating plain stretched away in three directions as far as their eyes could see. It was predominantly gray in color, but here and there, were scattered long, narrow strips of green. These green strips all had shimmering, silvery borders, and Dynamon couldn't help recalling to mind some arid spots back on the Earth that were criss-crossed with irrigation ditches. There were no trees on this vast plain, but strewn around in a haphazard way, were a quantity of great boulders. And these rocks, like the rocks at the base of the pit, glowed luminously. However, the landscape was clearly illuminated by some other source than those scattered rocks. Dynamon lifted his eyes upward and saw that above them, and stretching as far as the eye could reach, there was a softly luminous ceiling. There was no way of telling how high up this ceiling was. It might be twenty feet or twenty miles. The effect was like that of certain days on the Earth, when wide-spread clouds blanket the sky and diffuse the sun's rays.
The plain was by no means deserted. Here and there along the green strips four-legged creatures moved slowly, creatures that, on Earth Dynamon would have said were cows. Nearer at hand, a flock of small white creatures milled around aimlessly, and Dynamon could have sworn he heard the cackle of hens. Dynamon glanced over his shoulder and saw that the little hairy-faced men were filing out of the passageway to the pit. The guide tugged at his sleeve.
"This oo-ay," he said and pointed to his right.
Still holding Keltry's hand, Dynamon turned and followed the man, and the others fell in behind them. Their way eventually led toward a tall set of cliffs at the base of which a score or so of cave-like openings could be seen.
"Thesearehumans, aren't they, Dynamon?" Keltry whispered.
"They certainly look like it," Dynamon answered, "although obviously they're very primitive."
"Then how and when did they come to Saturn?" Keltry persisted.
"I haven't the faintest idea," Dynamon shrugged. "Perhaps we'll find out."
Other strange humans came running up the hill and joined the crowd behind them. Apparently they were not all men, for some of them had no hair on their faces and wore long robes over their bodies. The guide led them straight to one of the openings in the cliff, then halted and faced the two adventurers impressively.
"The koo-een!" he announced in a loud tone.
Dynamon and Keltry looked wonderingly at each other and then back to the guide. At that moment a woman appeared at the mouth of the cave. She was small and delicately formed and strikingly beautiful. She had the bluest of eyes and golden hair that fell away on either side of a marble brow. A long-sleeved white garment gathered at the waist covered her from neck to toe, but its shapeless folds could scarcely conceal the delicious curves of her little body.
"Humes!" the guide shouted proudly, "fum Earth!"
The woman's blue eyes widened as she stared solemnly at Dynamon and Keltry.
"Are you from Earth?" she said in slow musical tones. "So strange! So wonderful! How did you come?"
Dynamon grinned. "We came in a Cosmos Carrier," he said easily. "And to us, it seems even more strange and more wonderful that we find humans already on Saturn."
A shy answering smile came over the woman's beautiful face.
"We have been here hundreds of years," she replied in the same slow accents. "But come inside the Palace and we will talk."
She turned with an inviting look and the two adventurers from Earth followed her through a passageway lined with the, by now, familiar luminous rocks. They came out in a fairly large, high-ceilinged room, in the center of which was a sort of table made out of a long, trimmed slab of rock. At one end of this table was a high-back chair made of woven reeds. The woman walked over to the chair and sitting down in it, indicated stools on either side of her.
"Sit down," she said, "and tell me more about yourselves."
"Thank you," Dynamon answered, and turning to his companion said, "It's warm in here, I think we might take off these cloaks."
Keltry nodded, and putting her hand to the throat fastening, zipped it downward. Dynamon did likewise and the two stepped out of their cloaks. There was a sudden scream from the beautiful little woman, and her hands flew up in front of her eyes.
"What are you doing?" she squealed. "Why you're—you're practically naked! You're positively immodest!"
Keltry threw a startled glance at Dynamon's long, brown legs.
"Why, not at all," she said quietly. "We are dressed like everyone else on Earth at the present time. Modesty with us, nowadays, is something much more important than lengths of cloth."
The little woman kept her hands before her eyes and shook her head vigorously. "It's immodest," she insisted, "and you must put on your clothes at once. Don't you realize that I'm the queen?"
Reluctantly, Keltry and Dynamon stepped back into their heavy cloaks and zipped them up the front.
"Well! that's better," said the little queen primly. "My goodness," she said with a slight glance, "is everybody on Earth as big and brown as you two?"
"We're about average, I should say," Keltry answered with a smile. "And seriously, we didn't mean to offend you in the matter of clothes."
"Well we, on Saturn," said the little queen, "don't believe in indecent exposure. Now, you say you came in some kind of a carrier?"
"Yes," said Dynamon. "It's up on the surface. We were exploring in the darkness and fell down the long shaft."
"Why weren't you killed?" said the queen, blue eyes wide. Dynamon explained the counter-gravity helmets. It took considerable explanation, because the queen was inclined to disbelieve the whole story. She finally accepted it, however, and then launched into a long series of questions about the Cosmos Carrier and about the state of the Earth. Eventually Dynamon found an opening and started asking questions on his part.
"We're anxious to know about you and your people on Saturn," he suggested. "Have you a name or are you addressed only as Queen?"
"I am Queen Diana," the little woman stated. "The last of my line. I am a Bolton, and the Boltons have been rulers of Saturn ever since we came here."
"Bolton!" Dynamon shouted. "Are you a descendant of Leonard Bolton?"
"Yes!" replied the queen, with a delighted smile. "Do they still remember Leonard Bolton on Earth?"
"We know that he designed a contrivance called a 'space ship', but that's all. Did he actually build such a ship, and is that how you come to be here so many thousands of miles from Earth?"
"Yes," said Queen Diana, proudly. "It's all down in some books which I will show you. Leonard Bolton built a space ship which was big enough to hold ten families and their belongings. There was a terrible war going on and he thought the only place to find safety was another planet. So the 'space ship' left the Earth by means of a thing called a 'rocket,' whatever that is. And they wandered around for years in space till they finally came into Saturn's orbit, and the tremendous gravity pulled the ship right through the light outer crust into this Nether World. I don't know how many years ago that was, but we have been here ever since."
"Well that is an amazing story," said Dynamon. "And I would like to see those books you mentioned. How incredibly fortunate that the 'space ship' broke through into this Nether World, where there is an atmosphere that will support life. And it is pretty miraculous too, that the 'space ship' didn't break up from the force of hitting the outer crust."
"Well, the books say that it was broken up somewhat," the queen answered, "but nobody was hurt. And after they unloaded the ship, they took it apart so that they could use the metal in it for other things."
She was eyeing him admiringly.
"And the colony has survived over a thousand years," Dynamon mused. He could not help thinking how, in comparison with the people on Earth, the survivors of Bolton's expedition were a rather poor lot. They had made no progress at all in the thousand years, mentally or culturally; from all evidences they had, on the contrary, retrogressed at least to a degree. Then across his mind flitted a picture of the hardships these brave souls had to endure in establishing themselves on the new planet. At no time could they have even hoped to return to Earth.
With their limited equipment they had set out to make the most of their new world. The great caves offered natural shelter so it was small wonder that they made their homes in them.
Dynamon, although a soldier to his finger tips, had none of the haughtiness and cruelty which are so often found in the warriors of today. Quickly his pity for the colonists turned into admiration, and he turned gently to face Queen Diana again.
"Tell me," he asked, "Are we the first strangers you have seen? You haven't, by any chance, been visited by Martians, have you?"
"Martians," said the queen. "What are they?"
"At present, they are just about the worst enemies of human beings," Dynamon replied tersely.
"No," said the queen, "our only enemies here are theland-krakens. We have been fighting them for hundreds of years and we have never been able to exterminate them, because they're so hard to kill."
"Land-krakens," said Dynamon. "What sort of creature are they?"
"They are great, crawling monsters," the queen told him. "They have a dozen long, flexible arms that curl around their victims and strangle them. They lie in wait for our cows and kill them easily, and now and then, they catch a human being. They're terribly hard to kill even with bullets—they seem to be made of gristle and jelly."
Just as the queen spoke, there was a chorus of shouts outside the cave, followed by three or four sharp reports, in rapid succession. The queen stood up quickly, as one of her subjects rushed into the cave.
"Land-kraken!" he shouted. "Ter'ble biggun!"
Without a word, the queen picked up her long skirts and ran to the entrance of the cave, Dynamon and Keltry following close behind. An extraordinary sight met their eyes.
At the fool of the little hill, fifty or sixty shouting men were ringed around a horrible mass of thrashing, gray tentacles. Several of the men were pointing their black rods at the beast.
"Oh, itisa big one," the queen cried. "Our guns will be useless against that thick hide—the bullets will just skim off."
There were several more reports and smoke curled from the ends of the rods. Several long, grey tentacles rose up above the mass, and the crowd surged backward in all directions. Suddenly one of the slimy arms streaked downward and outward, and a moment later a struggling, screaming human was lifted high in the air. A thrill of horror went through Dynamon, and Keltry clutched his arm.
"Their ancient fire-arms are useless," she said in a tense whisper. "Perhaps a voltage bomb—"
But Dynamon was already running down the slope, fumbling at the black box at his hip. The concerted groan of despair from the crowd suddenly changed to a shout as the unfortunate human somehow tore loose from the encircling tentacle and dropped to the ground. Just as the land-kraken was reaching for the doomed man with another long arm, Dynamon hurled a voltage bomb over the heads of the crowd. The little glass ball landed squarely in the middle of the writhing gray mass. There was a blinding flash and a loud report. A convulsive shudder rippled over the gray monster and its twelve tentacles suddenly went limp. The crowd looked at it in stunned silence for a second, and then raised a yell of triumph. A noisy mob of little bearded men escorted Dynamon back up the hill to where the beautiful little queen stood, waiting, her blue eyes shining.
"How marvelous! How heroic!" she breathed, as Dynamon came up to her. "You killed the kraken with one blow. How did you do it?"
"Well, you see, Queen Diana," Dynamon replied, patting the black box, "these little voltage bombs have long ago entirely replaced fire-arms on Earth. Their range is shorter but they are far more deadly."
"Oh! So wonderful!" the queen gasped. "I am so glad you came. You shall marry me and I'll make you King of Saturn."
"I am most honored and flattered by your proposal, Queen Diana," Dynamon smiled, "but I am afraid that isn't possible. Keltry and I must go back up the shaft and rejoin our expedition."
"Oh, but you can't!" said the queen suddenly. "Send the girl away if you want"—she waved a careless hand at Keltry-"but you must stay here with me forever."
Dynamon saw Keltry's startled eyes on him and he felt an acute embarrassment. It was an impossible situation. He could not repress a little glow within him from the frank approval of the beautiful, imperious little queen. But at the same time, he knew that he must soon devise some means of making a graceful exit from her presence. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden cry from the edge of the surrounding crowd. He turned his head and looked along the base of the cliff. A column of cloaked figures, helmeted and masked, were streaming out of the passageway to the pit.
"It's a search party coming after us!" cried Keltry.
They were twenty or so of the soldiers from Earth, and they covered the distance toward Dynamon and Keltry in a short time and forced their way through the crowd of bearded Saturnians. The one in the lead unfastened his oxygen mask and revealed the spectacled face of Thamon.
"Thank goodness, you're alive!" said the scientist fervently. "We never expected to find you. What a fantastic place this is!"
"You are in the kingdom of the Boltons," said Dynamon, "and this is Queen Diana."
The man behind Thamon unmasked, revealing the lean, dark features of Mortoch.
"Congratulations, Dynamon," said the Chief Decurion, dryly, as he in turn was presented to the wide-eyed little queen. "You certainly picked a sort of paradise to fall into. A paradise, I might add, presided over by an angel."
A coy smile crept over the queen's face, then died away at Mortoch's next words.
"I bring you grave news, Dynamon," the Chief Decurion said. "There are two Martian Carriers in the vicinity. We haven't seen them yet, but we intercepted a long-wave conversation between them. What do you intend to do about it?"
"Why, I think we should go right back to the surface," Dynamon replied. "Could you tell from their conversation whether they knew that we were on Saturn?"
"Apparently they knew we were somewhere around," said Mortoch, "but hadn't located us yet."
"Well, we'd better hurry right on up then," said Dynamon, "so that we can get back to our Carrier before they find it."
"Oh, but you can't go!" said the little queen in a shrill voice, "I forbid it."
"I wish we could stay, Queen Diana," Dynamon answered, "but there's dangerous work to be done up on the surface."
"But why go to the surface at all?" the queen demanded. "Why not stay down here and keep away from the danger?"
"No, Queen Diana," Dynamon said, keenly conscious of Mortoch's lurking smile. "Duty calls and we must go. Perhaps when we have finished our work we will pay you another visit. All right, men, here we go."
The centurion, Keltry by his side, led the way back to the entrance to the pit, while the Saturnians, grouped around their little queen, gaped after them. As the little force stood in the bottom of the pit adjusting their helmets and oxygen masks preparatory to ascending to the surface, Mortoch leaned over to Dynamon.
"That wasn't such a bad idea of the beautiful Diana's," he murmured. "Personally, I wouldn't mind spending a few safe years down there with her. It would be better than facing those deadly Photo-Atomic Rays of the Martians."
"If it's safety you're interested in, Mortoch," said Dynamon, dryly, "we'll try and get you, as soon as possible, to the safety of the Carrier. Anyway, perhaps the Martians are just exploring and didn't come equipped with the Ray."
But as the centurion turned the knob in his helmet and shot up through the great shaft, he felt in his heart no great hope that such, indeed, would be the case. If the Martian Carrier were in the vicinity of Saturn it was altogether likely that they had come prepared to destroy the Earth Carrier, and would be equipped with their best weapon. Dynamon hoped against hope that he and the little force would reach the surface in time to get to their own Carrier, whose thick walls the Martians' Ray could not penetrate. After that, it would be a case of maneuvering the Carrier in such a way as to try to disable the Martians' ships.
The humans, their gravity repellors turned up full strength, whizzed up the black shaft at a tremendous rate of speed. Even so, it seemed hours before a small gray disc above him warned Dynamon that they were nearing the top. He spoke some words of command into his radio phone and cut down his upward speed. In a few moments he stepped over the rim of the shaft into the gray light of the Saturnian midday. He glanced down into the valley in the direction of the Carrier and felt a shock of dismay go through him.
The gray Earth Carrier was in the same place, but a half a mile on either side of it were two flaming red Martian Carriers. And out on the gray sand far from any of the ships a furious battle was going on. Some twenty tall, human figures were ringed around by a swarm of tiny, globular Martians. A continuous series of white flashes showed that the humans were desperately hurling their voltage bombs, but the encircling Martians were keeping well out of range and a dozen still forms on the ground showed that the invisible Photo-Atomic Ray was doing its deadly work.
All too clearly, Dynamon saw what had happened. In the absence of a commanding officer, himself or Mortoch, Borion had unwarily sent a force of soldiers out scouting. The Martians had swooped down, landed swiftly, and cut off the force from the Carrier. The humans were desperately trying to cut through to safety, but their situation looked hopeless.
Quickly, Dynamon turned and faced the men behind him and held up his hands in a gesture signifying that no one should use his radio phone. He had determined to try and help his beleaguered soldiers down in the valley, and the only way that could successfully be done was to surprise-attack swiftly on the rear of the Martians. He motioned Keltry and Thamon back into the pit and then, sweeping his arm forward in a wide arc, he plunged down the hillside. But before he had covered half the distance to the combat in the valley, Dynamon realized that his attack was coming too late. The Photo-Atomic Ray was cutting down the little force of humans like an invisible scythe. There were only nine of them left now and one by one these were falling. A thousand thoughts raced through Dynamon's head. Should he go ahead with the attack, courting on getting within bombing distance of the Martians unnoticed, before they could swing their Photo-Atomic Ray around? Or, should he change direction, skirting the enemy, and make a run for the Carrier? Suddenly, his blood froze in his veins as a voice sounded in his ear phones.
"This is suicide, Dynamon!" It was Mortoch's voice.
"It's suicide now!" said Dynamon through clenched teeth. "You fool! You have given us away!"
There was an instant reaction from the swarming Martians in the valley. A large group of them broke away from the combat and rolled over the gray sand toward Dynamon's detachment. The centurion halted his men abruptly. It was sure annihilation to try and stand in the face of the oncoming men of Mars.
"Back to the pit!" Dynamon commanded. "It's our only chance. Once we get down there we'll decide what to do later."
The little force just barely made it to the mouth of the shaft. The Martians were coming up rapidly behind them, and Dynamon could see the big, black cones which produced the invisible Ray.
The descent down the shaft was rapid, Dynamon being the last to land on the shiny floor. Immediately, he marched his men through the passageway into the Nether World and detailed two men to remain and guard the entrance to the pit.
"I don't believe the Martians will follow us down," he said. "If they do, we can easily defend the passageway."
Then he turned and singled out the Chief Decurion.
"Mortoch," he announced, "you are under arrest. You disobeyed my orders in regard to using the radio phone, and by doing so you betrayed our presence to the enemy. I will dispose of your case later."
Mortoch stepped forward, a sardonic gleam in his dark eyes.
"And suppose I refuse to be arrested?" he said. "If I had not disobeyed the order, you would have led us into certain death." Mortoch swept the crowd of soldiers with a burning look. "Men, I proclaim that Dynamon is incompetent to command you. Henceforth, you will take your orders from me—andyou, Dynamon, are the one who is under arrest."
"Mortoch!" Dynamon cried. "You are out of your mind!"
"Not at all," Mortoch returned. "I am merely assuming the command which should have been mine to begin with. Put your hands up in the air, Dynamon, and backward march till I tell you to stop. And let nobody else make a move"—Mortoch's rasping voice rose to a shout—"I have in each hand a voltage bomb which I shall not hesitate to throw if anybody attempts to cross my will."
"This is madness!" Dynamon cried hoarsely. "You can't hope to get away with this!" He strode forward angrily.
"Back!" roared Mortoch, and raised his right hand threateningly.
Dynamon staggered back in bewilderment from the soldiers who stood in silence, too shocked to make a move. Helpless against the voltage bombs in Mortoch's hands, the centurion stepped slowly backward, arms upraised. It was an impossible situation, and for the moment, Dynamon felt powerless to do anything about it. He reproached himself bitterly for not being more wary of Mortoch. Up till now he had been conscious of the Chief Ducurion's enmity, but he had never thought that the man would erupt into open mutiny.
Dynamon threw a swift glance over his shoulder and saw that he was only two paces away from one of those curious, luminous rocks. It was approximately cylindrical in shape, six feet wide and perhaps twenty feet tall. Dynamon took another step backward and turned his head to face Mortoch. His back was almost touching the rock now, and a desperate plan formed in his head. That was to make a sudden leap around the rock. Once behind it and protected by its mass, he would have time to pull out one of his own voltage bombs and await Mortoch's next move.
But Dynamon had not truly measured the state of Mortoch's mind. There was a sudden scream from Keltry as Mortoch, with a lightning movement, drew back his right arm and flung the voltage bomb straight at Dynamon's chest. The little glass ball sped unerringly across the intervening twenty feet. There was no time to dodge. Dynamon pressed his back against the rock and closed his eyes. It was the end.
Dynamon felt the little bomb bump his chest. But—wonder of wonders! There was no blinding flash—no explosion. There was just a silvery tinkle as the glass ball shattered at his feet. Dynamon opened his eyes and found that he was still alive. An incredulous shout went up from the horrified crowd and Thamon started running toward him.
"Tridium!" shouted the scientist. "You have discovered tridium!"
As in a dream, Dynamon saw the soldiers overpowering Mortoch and heard himself say, "What do you mean? Where is the tridium?" He stared about in wonder.
"The rock!" cried Thamon excitedly. "You touched the rock and were instantly insulated against the electric charge. Great heavens! What a discovery! Every one of these luminous rocks must be made of tridium."
Dynamon turned around and placed a hand on the glowing rock. Instantly, he felt himself enveloped in an extraordinary transparent aura.
"You see!" cried Thamon, and struck at the rock with his metal rod. Evidently, it was almost as soft as chalk, for several pieces as big as a man's fist chipped off and fell to the ground. Thamon stooped down and picked one of the pieces up and immediately he, too, stood in a curious, gleaming aura.
"It's tridium, all right!" exclaimed the scientist. "There can be no doubt about it. We knew it was on Saturn and we knew what its properties were, but we didn't know what it looked like. Do you realize what this means, Dynamon? It means that we may finally have found the defense against the Photo-Atomic Ray!"
Dynamon felt a little dizzy. Not only had he been snatched from what appeared to be certain death but he had inadvertently made a discovery that might save the people of the world from conquest at the hands of the Martians.
"Thamon, are you quite sure?" he said. "Are you quite sure that this will work against the Ray?"
"No," replied Thamon promptly. "I won't bequitesure until we've tested it out. From a theoretical standpoint, this glowing cloud, this aura that surrounds us as we touch a piece of tridium should insulate us against the Ray. But to be absolutely certain, somebody will have to expose himself to the Ray. Someone among us must go up to the surface holding a piece of tridium in his hand and face the Martians. If he is killed, then I'm wrong. But if he is not killed, then the Martians are at our mercy. We can walk up to them untouched and crush their egg-shell skulls with our bare fists."
"I see," said Dynamon gravely. "Then, one of us must be a heroic experimental guinea pig?"
"Exactly," said Thamon.
Dynamon looked over the silent group of soldiers, at Mortoch, shoulders hunched in the grip of two stalwarts. Then he bowed his head in thought for a moment.
"Men," he said, finally, "this is not a case of calling for volunteers. I think any one of us is brave enough to offer his life for the good of the rest of the human beings, but I think we should decide who is to do this dirty work by drawing lots."
"No!"
It was Mortoch. In his eyes was a wild, hunted look, and his voice was hoarse, but there was deep sincerity in his tones.
"Dynamon," said the Chief Decurion, "I went off my head with jealousy a minute ago. The madness is gone now, and I would give anything if I could undo what I did. You must give me the chance to redeem myself. If I am killed, so much the better for me. And if I am not, so much the better for all the human beings in the world."
Dynamon looked long and searchingly at the Decurion. Finally he said, "Mortoch, I cannot deny your appeal. Take this piece of tridium and go up the shaft. We will be close behind you to observe the experiment."
Just then, there was a shout from the two soldiers who were guarding the passageway to the pit.
"Martians!" they cried. "They are coming down on us! The shaft is full of them!"
Dynamon walked straight toward Mortoch and placed the piece of tridium in his hand.
"Your ordeal is at hand," he said simply, as, in a flash, the bright aura transferred itself to the person of Mortoch.
The two soldiers guarding the entrance to the pit were backing away to either side and throwing voltage bombs into the passageway as Mortoch ran toward them.
"Stop!" he shouted, never slackening his pace. "This is my job! Get out of range!"
He halted six feet away from the mouth of the passage and raised his arms up in a gesture of defiance. An admiring gasp went up from the crowd of watching humans at the tall, lean figure bathed in its luminous glow. Then a deathly silence shut down abruptly as four little figures erupted through the passageway. Martians!
They were scarcely two feet tall, with spindly little bodies and legs, but their heads were more than twice the size of human heads and looked doubly grotesque in their combination helmet-masks. One of them was holding a big, black cone—the Photo-Atomic generator. Quickly the little creature leveled it at Mortoch and pulled a lever on the side. An ominous high-pitched hum filled the air and everyone knew that the death Ray was being poured in all its deadly violence on Mortoch.
Thamon was the first to raise his voice in a shout as Mortoch, unharmed, strode forward and felled the Martian with one blow of his fist. The air rang with human cheers as Mortoch seized two more scurrying Martians by the legs and dashed their brains out on the ground.
"It works!" Thamon yelled, hysterically. "It's tridium! We're saved!"
The scientist was hacking crazily at the rock with his metal staff and jubilant soldiers swarmed around him, picking up pieces of tridium. In a few moments the whole force, every man surrounded by the luminous aura, was bolting through the passageway into the bottom of the pit.
For a short time the Martians tried to put up a battle. But with their chief weapon nullified, they were slaughtered by the dozen, and the survivors began flitting up the shaft. In the midst of the turmoil, Dynamon kept his wits about him. He knew that in order to realize the full value of the tridium discovery, the Martians on the surface must be kept from learning about it. He raised his voice in a mighty shout over the clamor.
"Masks on! Up the shaft at full speed! We must not allow a single Martian to reach the surface!"
Swiftly the Earth-soldiers fastened their masks and took off straight upward. Each one of them clung to their precious lumps of tridium, and in a short time the dark shaft presented an extraordinary spectacle. Each of the twenty-odd humans was bathed in his own ghostly envelope of light, and the fleeing Martians, looking downward, must have felt as if they were being pursued by a squadron of giant fireflies.
The survivors of the massacre below had a head start of their pursuers, but being so much lighter in weight, their gravity-repellors could not push them up through the atmosphere as fast as the humans could go. Gradually they were overtaken and destroyed by Dynamon's force—the last Martian being caught just at the upper mouth of the pit.
Dynamon quickly gathered his men about him while he took stock of the situation in the valley. The three Carriers were in the same position as they were before, but there were no Earth-soldiers left standing. A little circle of fallen bodies offered mute testimony to the hopeless battle put up by the force of three decuria which had made that ill-fated sortie from the Carrier. Now, the Martians from both of the red ships—excluding, of course, the group that had been cut to pieces in the pit—were gathered in a body near the Earth Carrier. Dynamon guessed that they were waiting to see what the Earth people were going to do next. They would soon find out, the centurion thought grimly. Even though there were probably close to two hundred of the evil little creatures down there, they would be no match for the brawny humans insulated against the Photo-Atomic Ray.
Swiftly, Dynamon formulated a plan of action. His first consideration was to try and seize both Martian Carriers. If possible, they must be prevented from leaving the ground and carrying back to Mars the warning that, at last, the humans had found a defense against the Ray. With that in mind, the centurion divided his little force in two. One decuria with its decurion he put under Mortoch, and the other, he commanded himself. Each group was to strike boldly at one of the Martian ships, Mortoch, the nearer one; himself, the farther one.
Dynamon issued his commands by signs, hoping to remain unnoticed by the enemy if he refrained from using the radio-phone. But as he led his group off along the hillside, a sudden activity among the Martians in the valley told him that he had been sighted. They came streaming across the valley floor toward the heights on a shallow crescent, each wing spreading to perform an enveloping movement.
What an unpleasant surprise the nasty little devils are going to get, thought Dynamon, and he switched on his radio-phone. "Follow me, now, on the dead run!"
He dug his toes into the yielding gray sand and ran along the hillside, bending low into the wind. It was heavy going, but the humans were able to make faster progress than their enemies because of their greater weight. Dynamon saw that he and his group were outrunning the Martians and would probably reach their objective sooner. Two thoughts arose in his mind to worry him. One was, that the Martians inside the red ships might lock their doors and take off before he and Mortoch, respectively, could reach them. The other was the fear that Borion, inside the Earth-Carrier, not knowing of the new defense against the Ray, would sally out in a desperate attempt to save—as he might think—the two isolated detachments of humans.
However, Dynamon reflected, those were eventualities over which he had no control. All he could do under the circumstances was pray for good luck.
A glance down into the valley told him that he and his little force were abreast of the Earth-Carrier by now, with a half a mile still to go to reach the Martian ship. The Martians, running parallel, were falling behind a little. Rapping out a command into his transmitter, Dynamon changed his direction slightly, and swung downhill on a direct line with the red ship. At the same time, he and his men readjusted their gravity-control so that their speed was almost doubled. Away to their left, the Martian horde was dropping behind. Dynamon gave an involuntary shout of triumph. He and his party was going to win the race.
As the little knot of speeding humans approached within a hundred yards of the Martian Carrier, another cheer broke from Dynamon's lips. The door at the side of the Carrier swung open and a score of little creatures carrying the once-dreaded black cones tumbled out. The Martians inside the ship, far from running away, were coming out to fight—mistakingly confident that the twelve humans were at their mercy!
Quickly, Dynamon issued orders that two of his men should immediately penetrate the inside of the Carrier and seize the control-room, while the rest stayed outside and engaged the Martian warriors. Then, panting for breath, but none the less confident, the decuria closed in on the Martians.
They were within twenty-five yards of the dwarf-like little creatures before the Martians discovered that something was amiss with the Photo-Atomic Ray. The ugly little men hesitated in momentary dismay, and then started to make a dash for the inside of the Carrier. But by that time, it was too late.
The twelve humans, clothed in their life-preserving auras, swept down on the Martians like avenging angels. All the pent-up hatred against this diabolically cruel enemy now found release. At last, the Martian superiority in weapons was broken. Dynamon and his men waded implacably into the terrified little ogres and slew them without mercy. The whole business was over in less than two minutes.
Without the loss of a man, Dynamon had annihilated the defenders of the Carrier, and two of his soldiers were inside in possession of the control-room. There remained now the job of handling the hundred or so Martians who were moving over the gray sand toward his victorious decuria.
But this force of the enemy had realized that something was radically wrong. They were no longer running, but, in fact, were slowing up to a halt about fifty yards away. Dynamon swung an arm and began to walk toward them. The black cones came up, pointing, all along the long line of Martians. Dynamon's men fanned out on either side of him, walking forward slowly, inexorably.
The line of Martians wavered uncertainly, and then began to fall back in terrified confusion, as the humans remained unharmed by the Ray. Dynamon's voice crackled in nine sets of ear-phones, and the decuria lunged forward. In a moment, they were in the midst of a panic-stricken mass of scurrying Martians. Again, the soldiers from Earth slew pitilessly, until in a short while, fifty-odd of the harried little creatures lay dead. The rest were scattered in headlong flight over the valley.
The business was accomplished none too soon. The thing which Dynamon had feared might happen earlier, happened now. A force of humans, unprotected by tridium, emerged from the big gray Carrier and hastened toward Dynamon. A few minutes earlier and these men would have been mowed down by the Ray. The centurion sighed with relief and ordered the newcomers back to the Cosmos Carrier.
The danger was over.
Twenty minutes later, Dynamon had joined forces again with Mortoch's detachment and was marching back to the mouth of the pit, where Keltry and Thamon were waiting. The past hour had seen a complete and sweeping triumph for the humans. Mortoch's attack on the other Martian ship had been as successful as Dynamon's. Now, both of the Martian Carriers were captured, and their crews and warriors cut to pieces. And, all this had been accomplished with the loss of but one man. One of Mortoch's soldiers had fallen and dropped his lump of tridium. The man had instantly died under the Photo-Atomic Ray.
There remained only one more piece of business to conclude successfully the expedition to Saturn, and Dynamon set about it promptly. Once again he led the way down the pit to the Nether World.
There was great excitement at the bottom of the shaft. The Saturnians were disposing of the bodies of the Martians who had fallen in the first onslaught when Mortoch had proven the efficacy of tridium. And, as Dynamon landed among them, closely followed by Thamon, Keltry and the soldiers, the Saturnians crowded around in a condition bordering on hysteria. They had never before seen Martians, or even dreamed of their existence, so it was not to be wondered at that the primitive humans of the Nether World were excited when the sudden, fierce combat broke out almost in their midst. With the greatest difficulty, Dynamon quieted them down enough so that they heard and complied with his request to be taken to their Queen.
"Queen Diana," he said directly, "in your kingdom, you have any quantity—thousands of tons—of this luminous rock which we have identified as tridium. This substance is the one thing which can save the people of the Earth from the death-ray of the Martians. Will you give me your permission to carry away some of these rocks back to Earth, so that our armies can defend themselves against our enemies?"
The little Queen gave Dynamon a long languorous look.
"If you stay here and be my King," she answered, at length, "I will permit your people to carry away as many of the rocks as they want."
Dynamon's heart sank. He had hoped that Queen Diana had got over that idea. What was he going to do?
"Well, Queen Diana," he said, slowly, trying frantically to think of some way out, "I can't tell you how flattered I am at your proposal, but I don't see how I can accept it."
"Why not?" the queen demanded, imperiously.
Dynamon shook his head helplessly. He was trying to think of some tactful way of telling this spoiled little woman that his heart already belonged to Keltry.
"Well, perhaps you have noticed," he began, "that someone else on this expedition has a—a claim—er—"
"Who do you mean?" the Queen interrupted, "The tall, dark man? The one called Mortoch?"
"Mortoch?" said Dynamon wonderingly.
"Yes, isn't that what you're trying to tell me? Mortoch! That's very interesting," said the Queen dreamily, "Come to think of it, Ihadnoticed that he looked at me very intensely."
A great light dawned on Dynamon. The Queen was jumping to a quite different set of conclusions. He had tried to tell her that he was in love with Keltry, and she thought he was telling her that Mortoch was in love with her, the Queen!
"I think that is very generous of you, Dynamon," said the Queen with a brilliant smile. "You are standing aside in favor of Mortoch because in your eyes, his bravery in facing the Martians gives him a greater claim on my hand."
Dynamon nodded wisely.
"He is a very handsome man," the Queen went on, looking off into space, "perhaps you're right."
"He is just outside," said Dynamon rising. "Let me bring him in to you."
Before the little Queen could say anything more, Dynamon walked briskly out to the mouth of the cave and hailed Mortoch.
"I remember hearing you say," he said, as the Chief Decurion came up to him, "that you wouldn't mind staying here with Queen Diana. Well, it seems that you are to have your wish. The Queen is determined to marry one of us, and right at this moment, she is inclining toward you as a husband. I think it's a fine idea."
Mortoch turned startled eyes on the centurion. Then he began to grin.
"Is that a command?" he asked.
"It is," Dynamon replied.
"I could do lots worse," said Mortoch, "although I'm liable to get homesick now and then."
"Don't forget," said Dynamon, "you'll be King of Saturn, or at least, of this part of Saturn. Go on inside, now, she's waiting for you."
Not long afterwards, Queen Diana, her eyes shining, appeared at the entrance to her cave. Her hand rested lightly on Mortoch's arm, and she announced to her people that at last she was taking a husband and giving the Nether World of Saturn, a King. As cheer after cheer went up from the bearded Saturnians, Dynamon bent over the Queen's hand and kissed it. He, then, received gracious permission to take away as much tridium as he needed.
Keltry stood between Dynamon and Thamon and the three of them stared into the bow periscope screens in the control-room of the Carrier. Borion came over and joined them.
"Well, there she is," said the navigator, fondly. "There was a time back there on Saturn when I kind of doubted that any of us would ever see her again."
The chief image in the screens was a glowing sphere about the size of a man's head. It was Earth. Already, the watchers in the control-room could make out the outlines of the continents.
"But at that, I guess we got off lightly," continued Borion, "We lost thirty-nine men—including Mortoch—but just think what we're bringing back! We've got enough tridium in these three Carriers to divide up among ten thousand men. I was afraid we might have trouble with so much of the stuff—afraid it might affect the magnets."
"No, it's a curiously inert substance," said Thamon, "I suppose that's why it can absorb the terrific shock of the Photo-Atomic Ray so easily. What's the news from Headquarters, Dynamon?"
"It's pretty sketchy," said the centurion, "Argallum was afraid to say too much for fear the Martians might be able to decode the message. But it looks as if we are going to be just about in the nick of time. The Martian invasion began ten months ago, just about the time we were leaving Saturn. Even though they came without warning in thousands of ships, our people managed to beat them off for quite a while. Some cities were destroyed, but Copia wasn't touched—too well guarded. But then, even though our people maintained, and still do maintain, superiority in the air, those Martian devils found some remote desert spot unguarded and landed thousands of their men. They were all equipped with the Ray, of course, and our land forces simply couldn't stand up against them. They've been driving steadily ever since, and right now, they're within seventy miles of Copia."
"Whew!" gasped Borion.
"I should say wearein the nick of time," said Keltry.
"Heavens!" exclaimed Thamon, "I shudder to think what would happen to the World right now, Keltry, if you hadn't fallen down that pit!"
"That's right," laughed Dynamon.
Just then, a communications man walked into the control-room and handed Dynamon a message.
He read it avidly.
"That's good news," the centurion remarked, looking up from the piece of paper, "Argallum is sending a heavy convoy to meet us. How soon will we be landing, Borion?"
"Well, we should hit the top of the stratosphere in less than an hour," the navigator replied. "From there on down—at reduced speed—will probably take another two hours."
"In that case," said Dynamon, "I think we'd better shut down on all conversation. Even Argallum doesn't know what we're bringing back—I'm taking no chances on having our secret get out to the enemy. He only knows that we are returning with two captured Martian Carriers. So, make your dispositions, Borion, because in five minutes I'm going to order everyone on all three ships to landing stations."
The next three hours were tense ones for the returning expedition. Even though a convoy had been promised, Dynamon was apprehensive about possible attacks by the Martians, who, he was sure, must know something of what was going on. But as it worked out, a perfect cloud of gray Cosmos Carriers came out to meet the voyagers from Saturn, and Dynamon was able to set his ships down at Vanadium Field without mishap.
A heavy guard was thrown around the precious cargoes, and the young centurion was whisked away to Government City.
"What did you find?" The Commander-in-Chief's face was haggard.
"We found tridium," said Dynamon, "tons of it. We had an opportunity to test it, and it proved to be a complete defense against the Ray."
"How difficult is it to get at?"
"Not difficult at all," said Dynamon, "we brought back enough to equip nearly ten thousand men."
"Heaven be praised!" said Argallum fervently, "We might pull out of this situation yet. Those devils have been sweeping everything before them. We cut off their communications with our air power but that didn't stop them. They've been living off the land, and they're so powerful that they've been able to overrun territory at will."
Dynamon glanced at his watch. "It is almost noon," he said, "It will take just one counter-attack to break through their line and roll it up in both directions. If you throw attack-units forward as fast as they can be equipped with tridium, you will have the Martians in a rout before sundown."
And it was so.
Dynamon stood beside Argallum two hours later, on a little knoll sixty miles out of Copia. A wide plain stretched before their eyes and across its width, a beaten, discouraged army of humans gave ground slowly before hordes of tiny, malevolent creatures from another planet. As the two men watched, a fresh column of Earth-soldiers issued forth from a woods in the center of the plain. There was a curious greenish shimmer surrounding this new column—a will-o'-the-wisp, mirage-like quality—and it advanced without hesitation straight into the serried ranks of the terrible Martians.
"Great Heavens!" cried Argallum, "They're walking right up to them! And not a man is down! Look! The Martians are reeling back! Our voltage bombs are killing them like flies!"
Dynamon turned away from the scene of carnage with a curious smile. He knew that Argallum in his gratitude would probably want to throw every conceivable honor and promotion at him. For bringing three Carrier loads of tridium back from Saturn, he, Dynamon, would very likely become a World-wide hero. And yet, he reflected, it was a feat which could never have been accomplished if it hadn't been for a series of unrelated incidents. If Keltry hadn't stowed away, she couldn't have fallen down the pit, thus leading to the discovery of Queen Diana's Nether World. If Mortoch had not rebelled and tried to kill him with a voltage bomb—. If he hadn't happened to touch the rock with his back—.
Dynamon turned and looked out on to the battle field where the victorious Earth-soldiers in their tridium-auras were vengefully slaughtering the hideous Martians. And he thought of the incident which had to precede all the other incidents so that he could bring back the tridium. That was the incident which had occurred hundreds of years before, when a man named Leonard Bolton had built a "space ship" and had traveled to Saturn in it, breaking through the burnt-out crust into the Nether World, boring the long hole with his clumsy medieval Carrier. That was the hole that Keltry had fallen into.
Dynamon shook his head. Leonard Bolton had built his "space ship" in the year 1956, the last year but one of the long series of frightful wars, in which the divided peoples of the World tried to destroy one another—and very nearly succeeded.