She turned, and saw, and fled. And the ochre flame mushroomed into the heart of the still-charging Titanians. Their charge stilled, faltered, wavered, died. The stench of charred bodies was nauseous. Then there were screams of fear—and the Titanians were in rout!
Into the small cave they pursued them; from it but a handfull of the silver-pelted savages escaped. And when the last living invader had disappeared, Greg turned to his exhausted followers with a smile of weary triumph.
"We'll see no more of them," he promised. "Already the snow is a foot deep. By morning both caves will be completely walled in. And I think we've taught them to fear us. What, 'Tina?"
For she was standing before him; her eyes were cool and positive ... there was decision in her tone.
"I thought it was all over for us a moment ago," she said. "And I knew, then, Greg, that it was a mistake for me to die without having told you. I promised myself that if a miracle occurred ... and we should live ... I would tell you."
He said wonderingly, "But what, 'Tina? I don't—"
"I know you don't, Greg. That is why I must say it. I love you. Have loved you since that first day." Her eyes were grave. Greg's were embarrassed.
He said, "But you—you shouldn't say such things, 'Tina. Crystal—"
"She is a brave woman, Greg. But she is not your woman. She is his."
His gaze followed 'Tina's across the room, to where Crystal knelt beside the injured Breadon. She was cleansing his wound, which was as it should be. But there was a softness, a tenderness, to her motions ... and a look in her eyes. Greg looked away, suddenly aware that even from the beginning he had felt this barrier between them. Perhaps Crystal had loved him, for a while and in a fashion. But she loved him for his strength, his power, his ability to rule. She was a woman of the ruling class; ever her conscious trend would be toward allegiance with those who led. But in the show-down ... when instinct overcame logic....
Hannigan cried across the chamber, "What, Greg?"
"I didn't say anything," said Greg gruffly.
"But you did. I heard you say—Omigawd!" Sparks made a sudden leap toward the bench on which rested the forgotten crystal set. "It's this!Listen!"
Static still boiled through the speaker of the tiny set. But now, above the static, riding its vibrations, was superimposed the sound of a human voice. And the voice was calling, over and over again,
"Space Patrol Cruiser Orestes ... calling survivors of the Carefree. We are looking for you. Where are you ... where are you? Come in, Carefree survivors. Space Patrol Cruiser Orestes ... calling survivors...."
Greg looked at 'Tina. Then once again at Crystal, whose face, upturned with sudden, speechless joy, was the radiant vision of unattainable perfection. Then at Sparks, whose gaze met his reluctantly. He said, "Sparks—press the plunger."
Hannigan's hand moved slowly toward the control that would set into flame the gigantic brush-signal on the plain below. With strange reluctance, everything considered. For certainly Sparks realized as plainly as he, Greg, that the snow was falling with increasing rapidity, that the cruiser must be almost directly overhead for its signal to penetrate the raucous interference of static, that if this opportunity were lost it might be years and years before....
Sparks voice was low in his ears.
"Are you sure, Greg?"
And suddenly there was deathly silence in the cave. Never until that moment had Gregory Malcolm realized how completely was he the ruler of this tiny clan. Here, where all life and the future of life and the future of these men and women were concerned, the last great judgment was relegated to him.
He looked about him uncertainly. And what he read in his comrades' eyes surprised him. For there was reluctance in the eyes of Bert Andrews ... a vague regret in those of old J. Foster Andrews ... hope and pleading in those of the girl 'Tina ... frank disapproval in those of the woman they knew as 'Aunt Maud.' Only the eyes of Crystal Andrews, who were he to let the cruiser pass might be his wife, was there mirrored fear and apprehension....
He shook himself. And with that small gesture he shrugged from his shoulders an ermine that had lain there all too briefly. Quietly he said the words that stripped him of his sceptre, that swept away his empire of the stars.
"Press it, Sparks!" he said.
"A remarkably ingenious device, sir," said Captain Allengrove approvingly. "And you made use of it in the nick of time. We were just about to abandon the search when the snowy waste beneath us blossomed suddenly with that signal. I'm sorry we couldn't get here sooner, sir. But—" And he glanced about the cavern appreciatively. "But you appear to have had matters under control."
J. Foster Andrews said, "Well—er—Captain, as a matter of fact, it wasn't—hrrumph!—altogether my doing. Greg, here—"
Captain Allengrove dismissed Malcolm with a glance.
"Yes, yes, I quite understand. One couldn't expect you to take care of all the minor details. But I must say, Mr. Andrews, you are a fortunate man. Inasmuch as you established residence on Titan, the Federation will be forced to acknowledge your priority claim to the heretofore unknown ore deposit near your cave."
"The—er—ore deposit?" Andrews looked blank.
Sparks hollered, "Oh, my sainted tonsils! The swamp! Of course! Pitchblende! That's why there was so much static interference! Radium!"
The cruiser's commander frowned on him.
"Exactly. Of course, Mr. Andrews, you cannot file a full claim to the property. That requires a full year's residence. And a man as important as yourself—"
Greg Malcolm started. He had said nothing up till now. He had been given an opportunity to say nothing. The captain had addressed himself solely to the one "important" man in their party, the man for whom, primarily, the search had been made, the man to whose "genius" was attributed the existence of the castaways.
Now he spoke up. He said, "ButIam establishing residence, Captain Allengrove."
Allengrove permitted himself the luxury of a small smile.
"You, Malcolm? But really, my dear fellow, only a spaceman could undertake such a task. Asecretary—"
Aunt Maud waddled forward belligerently. She said, "Secretary—pah! Fiddle-faddle, Captain! You don't know what you're talking about! And as for you, Brother Jonathan, I'm ashamed of you! Taking credit for all this—arragh!" She turned to Greg. "Gregory, I'm an old woman, and perhaps I'm an old fool, as well. But I've had more fun and excitement in the past month than I've had in the previous forty years. Be—bedamnedif I'll go back to Earth and piddle away my remaining years at operas and pink teas. I'm staying here with you!"
Enid Andrews, into whose shoulders had so quickly come the grace and ease of authority that was her charm, looked shocked. "Maud!" she exclaimed.
Sparks Hannigan breathed a sigh of relief. "Then that makes three of us," he said. "Any more takers?"
Tommy O'Doul pushed his way to Greg's side. "Can I stay, too, Greg? Can I, huh? Me, too?"
Greg said gratefully, "If you want to, Tommy. But, Bert—you?"
For Bert Andrews had also aligned himself with his aunt and Sparks. Now he said defiantly, "What Aunt Maud says is good enough for me. I'll stick!"
'Tina was already beside Greg; her gaze was fiercely loyal. She did not need to say anything. Captain Allengrove looked stunned. "But really," he said, "but really, this is most unusual! I mean, we were sent to rescue you! I—er—I don't quite see how you expect to survive without leadership—"
Aunt Maud snorted belligerently. "Leadership! You just leave us supplies and we'll have all the leadership we need! Marberry, you're staying, aren't you? Well, that's seven of us. A lucky number! I don't suppose there are any more?"
She glared at Crystal. Greg, too, was watching the girl. Now before the steadfastness of their combined gazes, her eyes dropped. Her cheeks colored faintly. But she did not move from Breadon's side. She said, "I—I'm sorry. I hope you understand, Greg."
Greg said, "I understand."
"Furthermore," declared Aunt Maud staunchly, "I'm warning you, Jonathan! I know you! If you go home bragging about your part in the colonization of Titan, I'll follow you, so help me! And if you fail to keep us equipped with supplies—"
J. Foster said hurriedly, "Now, Maud!"
Captain Allengrove looked at them all uncomprehendingly. It didn't make sense. But he was a Space Officer—it was not his place to engage in family quarrels; his duty was to rescue what few of this astonishing crew wished to be rescued. He coughed nervously. He said, "Well, Mr. Andrews—if you're ready now?"
"Yes," said J. Foster. "We're ready now. Goodbye, Greg," he said. "And—er—thanks, old boy!"
Greg said levelly, "That's all right. Goodbye." He said, less levelly, "Goodbye, Miss Andrews."
But Crystal and Breadon were already turning toward the portal, toward the cruiser that would carry them back to an easier, gentler world. So at the end, there were no last farewells. Just a single word, and silence.
Yet somehow, strangely, Greg Malcolm did not mind too much. For in losing one thing, he had found much more. He was bulwarked with greater, truer friends than most men ever know ... he stood in a cave that was his home ... on a new world that was yet his shining, unblemished empire.
And there was the touch of a warm hand on his own.