Yarnith wasn't listening, he had become as the others. He no longer cared. Ric looked at the man in disgust, then fury swept over him. He seized Yarnith's arm, whirled him around roughly. Yarnith cowered, whimpering.
"Listen to me! Listen! There are moreeishnstems, enough for all of you. All you have to do is take them! Do you understand that?"
Yarnith understood that. It was all he understood, all he cared. He nodded eagerly. "More of them?"
"Yes, in the city! Gorak has them!"
Yarnith slumped in despair. "The city. We can never go there again. None of us have ever—"
Ric shoved him away disgustedly, went to join the others. Throughout the day he moved among them, portioning out the stems, giving them the same story. Each worker received one stem, no more. Some were beyond understanding him, and these he tried to avoid. Others watched him covetously, eyeing the supply of stems he was portioning out.
Once a knife slashed his shoulder, and he went to his knees from the blow. Ric whirled and killed the man with a single blow that snapped the frail neck. Ric went berserk then, dashing among them, flailing and lashing and throwing fists left and right as the blood-lust came upon him. They fled before him.
"You're going to understand one thing, damn you!" he shouted. "There are plenty of these stems in the city, but you'll get them for yourself! I'll bring you no more!"
That seemed to work better. It roused them from their lethargy, and Ric kept them that way. How many more he killed or maimed, he never knew. It became a sort of mad game. It was a day Ric was never to forget!
Nor would they forget him. At the end of that day he saw many of them in groups, muttering to themselves, watching him balefully. As if for the first time, they realized one thing: this Earthman always returned to the city ... and he hadeishnstems!
When Ric returned this time, there was a weariness upon him such as he had never known. But a fierce hope burned within him, a hope that these Phobians would remember ... that they'd become men again for at least a while, and not fall again into their lethargy....
He'd done his best, and there would not be another chance.
VII
Kueelo came to them, as they were at the evening meal. "Be ready, Ric Martin. The Earth broadcast will be in a few hours. Gorak is getting the tele-magnum ready now." He handed Ric a closely-written paper. "These are the things you will tell your Earth Council, and be sure you follow it to the letter!"
Ric scarcely looked at the paper. They waited nervously, as the minutes lengthened into hours, and Ric's thoughts whirled in chaos. To refuse Gorak's dictates now would mean death to Praana's people on Luna. On the other hand Ric knew that Earth would never capitulate! At the very best, it would mean holocaust and a spatial war such as the System had not known in two hundred years.
At last it was time. They were taken under special guard to Gorak's quarters, where the tele-magnum was ready. The next few minutes would determine the fate of two worlds, perhaps even the entire System!
Everyone was tense. Even Gorak's pallid features were pulled into tight lines, as he said to Ric, "When we've gained control of the Earth beam, you will announce yourself. Then you will read what is on the paper, and no more! If you depart from it in the slightest, I shall order my guards to blast you down." He turned to Praana. "When Ric Martin is through, you may make a plea to the Earth Council on behalf of your people."
Gorak turned to the tele-magnum, an instrument that dwarfed everything in the room. The control panel was taller than the man himself, connected to huge coils and tubes. He manipulated the controls with swift surety. The tubes came aglow, danced with silvery radiance.
The coils hummed a smooth threnody, then shrieked as they absorbed the increasing power. Soon the sound rose above the audible. Then ... from far away, a faint voice was heard droning monotonously. This was the Earth beam, the scheduled news broadcast to Venus. Gorak moved the dials swiftly, and the voice filtered through.
"... at last report, has been determined that the Martians under command of Dar Mihelson have maintained their temporary haven within crater Tycho. The eight-day Battle of Luna, it is expected, will be terminated shortly. An unconfirmed report says that Felix Wessell has been captured, and is being returned to Earth where he will face court-martial for high treason. Another amazing development concerning the plague on Mars, is thought to be a hoax. Thirty hours ago—"
Gorak twisted the dials viciously, cutting off the voice. "A hoax! So they think my demands are a hoax!" Fury mastered him for a moment, then he went to work over the controls. "I'll cut into their beam. Be ready, Ric Martin! They'd better listen now!"
The voice came again, then was drowned out as Gorak's increased potential flooded the channel. Tal Horan, standing beside Ric, was suddenly tense. He gripped his arm and whispered, "Listen!"
But Ric had heard it too, they all heard it. From the streets outside, from far away, came an angry murmur—acrowdmurmur, wafted to them through the night stillness. And it was coming nearer.
They saw Kueelo motion to several of the guards, and the men hurried outside. Still the sounds came, louder now, a sort of angry chant. Now it seemed to enter this street, to be heading this way.
Alarmed, Kueelo himself seized an electro and hurried out. Gorak still worked over the tele-magnum. He looked up in annoyance. Then he straightened.
"Very well, Ric Martin. I've established contact!"
Ric hesitated, then moved slowly to stand before the tele-sender. He moistened his lips, glanced at the paper in his hand. At that moment a guard came bursting back into the room. Blood streamed from his face.
"The workers! I—I think they've revolted!"
Gorak leaped to another instrument, pressed a row of buttons—six of them, lightning-fast. Then he was across the room, hurrying out the door.
"Ric Martin speaking!" Ric was shouting into the tele-sender. "Be alert for spore-bombs aimed at Luna!" He could not be sure it got across, but that was all he had time for. The remaining guards stood hesitant, started to follow Gorak, and then turned back.
But Tal Horan was leaping into action now. He met two of the guards before they could draw their weapons ... sent them crashing across the room. Ric leaped to help him. An electro-beam slashed across his shoulder, so close he could feel the swirling heat of it. The melee was furious but brief. The remaining guards were no match for the two men and Praana, who had seized a small ornamental vase from a table and was battering one of the guards to pulp.
Tal grabbed one of the electros and came to his feet. "We'll have to make a break for it! I know the way back to that outer air-lock!"
Outside, the Phobian workers were coming in a surging resolute mob. There were hundreds of them. On the far side of the street were Gorak and Kueelo and a few of the guards. Gorak was haranguing the advancing mob, but it was useless. Then they saw him give an order ... and the guards began opening up with the electros.
"To the right!" Tal said. "We've got to get past that mob. Stay on this side!"
With Tal leading the way, they sprinted toward the advancing Phobians, staying in the shadow of the walls. The electros were taking effect now. The odor of burning flesh arose.
But there was no stemming that tide. The mob raced forward, yelling, as those behind pressed on. Ric's work at the fields that day had roused them, all right—perhaps too well! They found themselves being carried forward in the mob.
A few crazed Phobians swerved from their path to leap at the little party. Tal and Praana had no choice but to bring their electros into play. Ric swung one foolhardy Phobian high over his head and dashed him back among his fellows.
They brought their electros into play.
They brought their electros into play.
They brought their electros into play.
"This way!" Tal hurried to a small building, blasted the lock with his electro. Inside were a score of the three-wheeled, atom powered cars. Minutes later they were speeding away from the city, heading for the outer air-lock of Phobos.
They reached the place, and Tal worked over the mechanism until huge metal doors rolled away. They saw the ship that had brought them here, the Unit Twenty-Six of the MartianValiant. But they had no eyes for it now. Several of Gorak's own spacers were there, those with the new-type rocket-tubes which Tal had mentioned.
"Tal!" An idea was building up in Ric's mind. "Remember what Kueelo said about their power plant, anchored in the center of Phobos? He said it was reverse gravity, expandingoutward! What would happen if we drove a spaceship straight into it?"
For a moment they looked at each other in delighted silence.
"About three hundred miles," Tal said, looking at the gray-blue distances of the hollow world. "And Unit Twenty-Six, here, has a supply of atomo-bombs! We'll have to ride it out there, and then get back before the explosion ... it will take perfect timing ... but it can be done!"
Feverishly they went to work. First they maneuvered one of Gorak's smaller but speedier ships alongside the Mars spacer, anchored it there with magnetic plates which could be thrown on or off in a split second. But it pointed in a reverse direction, with its prow toward the larger ship's stern. Tal Horan looked to the fuel tanks, gave all the rockets experimental blasts to be sure the feed lines were working. At last all was in readiness.
Tal Horan faced Praana. "Wait here in one of the other ships. Don't be nervous. Watch for the explosion. You'll be able to see it. The moment you do, get these rockets warmed up and ready!"
She nodded, but her face had gone pale. Suddenly she choked up. "Tal, is—is it necessary?"
"It has to be done. This is the quickest and surest way! Don't worry," he took her hands in his. "We'll get back, I promise you!"
Quickly he turned away and entered the larger ship where Ric was waiting.
"You're a spaceman, Ric; I'm not. You take the controls."
Ric nodded grimly. Slowly he threw over the rocket-feed control. Yes, he was a spaceman. He'd handled all types of ships under all conditions, but he knew he'd have to call on every bit of his training now! The rockets throbbed to life. Gradually the ship dragged out of the lock, across the vast ledge toward the inner space. Ric increased the power ... then they were free of the planet's shell and heading toward the center of Phobos!
The mass of the smaller ship anchored to them made the controls unwieldy, but Ric was ready for that. What bothered him was that they were fighting gravity all the way—a gravity thatspread outwardtoward them! The result was the same as a blast-off from a gravity equal to that of Mars! But there were other conditions that were not the same.
Tal Horan looked to the magni-plate controls that held the smaller ship to them. He tightened the power a little and then came to stand by Ric's side.
"About how long would you say?"
"We should be able to sight it in ten or fifteen minutes." Ric never took his eyes from the view-finder. "At least I don't want to accelerate until then. We'll need full power for the final drive."
The space around them now was tinged with the gray-blue light, but it was thick and murky, as though they were driving beneath the waters of a sea.
"Suppose we don't sight the gravity-station. If we miss it altogether...."
"We're not heading blind," Ric nodded toward an indicator above his head. "That magni-finder will indicate the direction of any mass larger than ourselves, and then I can center our course. I'm just wondering if the atomo-bombs will be enough!"
"They will!" Tal assured him. "The principle of this gravity-station is electronic. It's been here at the center of Phobos for three hundred years without a breakdown ... but once our bombs start the disruption, the explosion will be like nothing you've ever seen!"
Ric straightened suddenly. The magni-finder had come to life—was indicating a position a few degrees to starboard. He altered direction until the needle centered, and held the controls there. His eyes sought the proximity indicator.
"Heading at it now. Fifty miles! What do you think?"
"We can go closer," Tal said. Ric didn't question him; he was a spaceteer, but Tal was the electronic expert.
Tal Horan was peering intently ahead, now, and he exclaimed, "There it is! I can just make it out!"
Through the glaucous haze they could barely make out a spherical shape, hanging stationary, with a faint aura around it lending to the ghostly appearance. It must have encompassed miles, for even at this distance it was looming larger by the minute.
"Close enough," Tal announced at last. "We'd better get ready to trans-ship!"
They worked fast. Ric sighted the controls to pin-point precision, then locked them into place. Tal Horan was standing ready at the inter-lock by which they would trans-ship to the smaller spacer.
Ric gave a last look at the controls ... then threw them over to full blast. He sprang through the lock, as the ship leaped ahead like a monster unleashed. With a sweep of the hand Tal released the magni-plates, and was leaping after him. It was close! Their smaller ship was sent spinning free, end over end, "falling" back toward Phobos' shell.
Ric crashed against a wall, was dazed for a moment. He managed to drag himself forward to the controls. He groped blindly, was able to throw on the rocket power which served to stabilize them somewhat. He dragged himself upright, then, and realized that the worst was yet to come.
If that explosion reached them!... They must keep ahead of it at all costs. Ric opened the rockets wide, and gasped at the surge of power. These new rockets were blast proof indeed!
Tal was at the stern ports now, watching the larger ship driving away from them. Soon it had vanished into the gray-blue distance. The explosion would be soon....
Minutes passed. Then it came. They saw it first, a blinding flash of light that seemed to encompass all of space within Phobos' shell! But it would be more minutes before they felt the actual concussion. They were speeding away recklessly, speedingwithgravity now! And before Ric quite realized it, they were nearing the outer shell again and he had to break speed.
Then his heart sank within him. Due to that wild spin, he had lost direction! The huge air-lock, where Praana waited, was nowhere in sight.
Precious seconds passed, as Ric brought the spacer skimming the inside of the shell like a pebble inside a bottle! Panic gripped him. This would be the end, if they didn't find that air-lock! It was the only passage to outer space. When the full concussion reached this shell, it would flatten them!
He heard Tal shouting in his ear. "The city! There's the city!" He was gesturing frantically, far to the left. Ric headed for it recklessly and swept over the city at breakneck speed. The lock should be somewhere a few miles beyond....
Then they saw it. They glimpsed tiny pin-points of fire as Praana blasted the rockets of her ship as a signal to them. Ric braked with the forward tubes. As it was, he came into the wall with a crashing glide that sheared half of the underhull away.
They climbed out, raced for the lock just as the first wave of onrushing air threatened to sweep them up. It became a hurricane. The full concussion would be right behind it!
Praana was waiting and ready. They piled into the ship and without a waste motion Ric was at the controls. They swept deeper into the lock ... into darkness. Unbearable heat enveloped them. Already they were feeling the concussion! There came a moment of giddy acceleration, an unbearable pressure that sent the blood pounding in their ears.
Then a pattern of starlight swept across their vision. Sharp crags loomed suddenly ahead ... they passed over them, a wild terrain dropped sheerly away, and their spacer became a fiery pinwheel of rocket blasts as they were hurled into free space!
Ric was fighting the controls, fighting the unbelievable pressure that threatened to black him out. He caught a glimpse of Phobos behind them, bursting apart in a blinding holocaust. Gradually, with alternate rocket thrusts, he managed to stop their wild spin. Then, dazedly, they turned to look.
The scene behind them now was like something on a slow-motion film. Almost lazily Phobos was expanding, as a ghastly bluish radiance enveloped the area. Then Ric came alert, as spinning, disintegrating fragments larger than their ship began hurling about them.
He blasted away, and minutes later they were looking back at the deadly area. Only a vast powdery haze occupied the former orbit of Phobos. Soon even this haze would disappear as the infinitesimal particles drew together. A few larger fragments were falling toward Mars now, where doubtless they would take up individual orbits about the planet.
Ric set his course, and on full rocket blast they headed for Earth. Tal was worried, as he scanned the visi-panel.
"Ric ... just before Gorak rushed out of the room ... when he touched that row of buttons...."
"Yes, I know. I'm sure that released the bombs. He already had the sights set for Luna!"
Hours later Earth came into view, became rapidly larger in their visi-panel. They could see Luna, far to the left. And a moment later, part of Earth's Fleet was seen blasting out to meet them. A voice stabbed through their radio.
"Hello, hello! Commander Graham of Patrol shipTerraspeaking. We've had you in our magniview for the past ten minutes. As you carry no insignia, you will go into a drift immediately and announce yourself!"
Ric did so gladly. Then, briefly, he explained what had happened. He chuckled as the Commander's amazed voice came back to him.
"We observed the disruption of Phobos! You came from there? What about those spore-bombs?"
"They're on the way! You've sighted none of them yet?"
"No. We've been watching...."
Praana spoke into the sender, anxiously. "What about my people? Dar Mihelson, and the others—"
"They're safe. The Battle of Luna is over, and already the Martians have trans-shipped to Earth. We're patrolling the dark side of Luna. If we sight the bombs, we can deflect them from their course, send them into a free orbit and destroy them at our leisure."
"No!" Ric said. "They may land on Earth if you try that. Send a flash to your patrol not to touch those bombs, but get away from there fast. Take my word, it's urgent!"
He received the Commander's assurance, and the televise blanked out.
"It's better to let Luna go," Ric said to Tal, "than to place Earth in danger. We can reclaim it later—Mars, too—now that you have the counter-active."
Tal nodded. There would be work, long and hard and dangerous. There would be problems. He and Praana stood arm in arm at the visi-panel, watching eagerly as the welcome panorama of Earth spread out below.