"We're more elemental out here, I guess. We're more afraid of letting
life get past us. I want you so bad it hurts. I want to marry you and
have your children and I'm afraid of not letting you know it."
Her mouth was on his; her body through the soft fur of their clothing
was warm and rounded against him. His blood was pounding and he was
conscious of two things. First, this intoxicating girl in his arms.
Second, the fact that the slab against which he was pressed had
loosened and turned; that it had moved on a hinge of some kind and he
had to hold tight to Jean to keep from falling through.
Then he became aware of a third presence. Just outside a figure loomed;
a hideous looking man with a brown, scarred hide. A man with eyes that
seemed to hold all the hate in the universe....
* * * * *
(From the Diary of Tommy Wilks) (_Saturday_)
_They're gone--Jean and Rex Tate. Nobody around here knows what to
think because there is no place to go. No ships have come in or gone
out. Everybody is talking about it. Some people say Rex Tate had a ship
and that he put Jean in it and took her away. But how can that be true?
Where could anybody hide a ship around here? The country is flat as far
as you can see. They say he must have had a ship hidden up in the ice
country--in the forbidden circle and he took her up there._
_But that is crazy too. They were having supper here last night when
Mom and Dad and I went to the Parker's for supper. They weren't here
when we got back and none of the cars or horses are gone so how could
they have got away?_
_They say he took Jean away, but I wonder if it wasn't the other way
around? Jean was in love with him--she wanted to marry him--and I
wonder if maybe she didn't take HIM away? But that's foolish, too.
There was no place for her to take him or him to take her. It certainly
is a mystery. We haven't had so much excitement since we came to Mars.
People coming and going--men riding off in bunches hunting under every
piece of moss as though they'd turned to midgets and were hiding there.
It's all very silly. But Mom is sick about it. She's in bed and Mrs.
Parker is taking care of her. The men swear they'll catch Rex and kill
him wherever they find him. They say he dragged Jean away to have her
for himself. I don't think so--not for that reason, anyhow. I know how
Jean felt about him and girls in love are funny. He wouldn't have had
to drag her anywhere. That was how Jean felt about him._
_It's all very strange. And very lonesome here with Dad gone off with
the hunting party and Mom under sedatives. I'm going to ask Barzoo what
he thinks about it._
* * * * *
(_Sunday_)
_I've learned something important and I don't know what to do about it.
I went to Barzoo's hutch to find him but he was not there. I waited
around a while and then, while I was looking inside, I thought I saw
something funny about the wall. One section of it looked different
than the others. It wasn't dirty along the bottom. It looked as though
there was a crack there. I examined it and found it moved on a hinge.
I pushed it back and everything was dark behind it. I listened for a
while and then thought I heard a sound inside as though somebody had
taken a step._
_I got scared and dropped the stone back into place and began to run.
I ran all the way home to tell Dad about it because that must be where
Rex and Jean went. There can't be any other place._
_But Dad isn't here and I can't tell Mom. She's too sick and I'd only
disturb her...._
_It's been an hour now. Dad still isn't home. I've done some thinking.
Why did I run away from the hutch? There isn't anything there to be
afraid of. When you think it over, it's logical that Barzoo would have
a place underneath the hutch to keep warm on cold winter nights. Even
if his hide is thick, he still needs shelter. And why should he have
told me about it? It's his private business and I never asked him. I'll
bet he would have told me if I'd asked him._
_I'm going to wait another half hour for Dad. Then, if he isn't back,
I'll go to the hutch with a flashlight and see what's under it. Maybe
everybody is right about Rex. Maybe he's got Jean down there._
_But if he has I'll bet she isn't trying very hard to get away...._
_The half hour's up. Here I go...._
* * * * *
"So that's the story," Rex said. "Now you know who I am and how I
happened to come to New Iowa."
Jean twisted her arms against the thongs that bound her wrists and
said, "I think you were stupid not to tell us and let us try to help
you."
"But I was moving in the dark entirely unsure of myself. I had to look
around and find out--"
"Oh, I see. You suspected us. You thought we were capable of murdering
a man and putting his body in a box and shipping it back to Terra with
our potatoes!"
"I thought no such thing!"
They spoke openly, convinced that the five Martians who were their
captors could not understand Terran. They had been at the hutch when
Rex and Jean got there--four of them--crouched behind the wall. When
Barzoo arrived, just as Rex tilted the section of wall, they had seized
the two Terrans and tied their hands. There had been nothing Rex could
do, hampered as he was by Jean lying in his arms.
Rex's thoughts had been the bitterest of gall as he forecast his report
to The Chief--that was, if he lived long enough to submit a report:
_I was necking with a local farmer's daughter in the stone hutch of a
Martian character. I had every reason to be suspicious of this Martian
and should have been on my toes when he arrived. Instead, I was on my
back, kissing this aforementioned local daughter and this Martian and
four of his friends took us both. No credit to them, though. In the
shape we were in, a crippled blind man could have taken us. Any further
orders, Chief?_
The Martians had ignored his pleas that they leave Jean behind, or
perhaps the Martians did not even understand him.
They had been led off down a long, dark tunnel. So far as Rex and Jean
were concerned, their next step could have almost dropped them off into
oblivion but the Martians were sure-footed and seemed to be entirely
familiar with the pitch-black tunnel.
They walked for what seemed hours before a light showed in the
distance. Another hour brought them to the spot where a dusty overhead
bulb glowed dimly. It appeared to have been there untouched for
centuries because the ceiling was damp and calcium-bearing droplets
had almost covered it. Yet it glowed bravely.
Here, the two Terrans were allowed to rest. One of the Martians dug
into a small opening in one wall and brought forth a quantity of
grayish substance which he offered them--holding it toward their mouths
with his filthy hand. They turned their faces away and he made no
further effort to feed them.
They were ignored--left sitting on a ledge while the Martians gorged
down the food. Afterward, the one Jean designated as Barzoo, looked
up suddenly as though a thought had come. He talked to one who had
finished eating and was wiping his hands on his dull brown hide.
Rex tried to fathom Barzoo's words. Familiar with languages and
dialects the System over, he got some of Barzoo's meaning. The Martian
leader was worried about the condition in which the hutch floor had
been left. Perhaps the wall-section had been left tilted. After a
while, the other Martian got to his feet and trotted back through the
darkness along the tunnel through which they had come.
* * * * *
After the Martian left, Barzoo wiped his mouth with the back of his
hand and motioned Rex and Jean to get up and move into a passage to
their right.
"How much further can he take us?" Jean asked. "After the first drop
back at the hutch, it seems to me the tunnel has been level."
"A floor can be deceptive. We could have been moving down a gradual
slope for miles."
Jean said nothing. The going was easier now, this tunnel being lighted
at intervals by the strange overhead bulbs. Rex asked, "Are you sore at
me for what happened back at the farm? For not telling you the truth?"
"No. We're in too much trouble to waste time being angry. What's done
is done. Only the future is important now."
Rex could have made his self-recrimination vocal but he felt that too
would be a waste of time. He said, "Didn't anybody--any of you Terrans
know about the opening in that hutch?"
"I'm sure no one did--except perhaps Tommy." She thought that over and
added, "No--that's absurd. If Tommy had known it he wouldn't have been
able to keep it to himself."
"Maybe they'll hunt around and find it."
"Maybe--but I hope they don't."
"Why not?"
"If they find the opening they'll come looking for us. These Martians
are hostile. Some of our men might be killed and they have wives and
families."
Jean made Rex feel ashamed of himself. "Don't worry. I'll get you out
of here."
She glanced up at him. Her chin trembled slightly as she sought to
stiffen it.
At that moment they walked into a larger tunnel. There were more
overhead bulbs here and a ribbon of narrow-gauge track stretching off
into the distance.
"A railroad!" Rex exclaimed.
"I wonder where it goes?"
"I've got a hunch we're going to find out."
One of the Martians had gone around a shoulder of the tunnel. There was
a whining sound. He returned in the driver's seat of a small rail car.
Barzoo motioned the Terrans into one of the seats. The other Martians
got in behind them. The driver pulled a throttle. The whining sound
increased and the car moved off down the tracks.
Rex listened for a time, inspected the portion of the car within range
of his eyes, then said, "I wonder what kind of power this thing uses?"
Jean did not answer. Her head had dropped to his shoulder. She was
asleep. He settled himself, forming a pocket with his body so she could
rest against him with the seat supporting her. Behind him the eyes of
the three Martians, including Barzoo, had also closed. Rex wondered if
the driver was asleep also.
The car rolled on in a monotonously straight line, mile after mile. Rex
realized he had discovered a civilization under Mars, the existence of
which was unknown on Terra. He knew that none of the authorities or
experts suspected anything so civilized as a railroad in the forbidden
polar lands. At best they thought the territory inhabited by hardy
bands of hostile, backward ice dwellers.
This was indeed a great discovery, he told himself bitterly. Of course
neither he nor Jean would live to reveal it, but they could die happy,
knowing they were great explorers.
He grew tired of excoriating himself. The passing overhead lights had a
hypnotic effect. He closed his eyes and slept....
* * * * *
Fanton, son of Fandor of the Bantarks--last great ruling dynasty of
Mars--lay sick and dying in a foul cell under the Amphitheater of the
Gods. He was old and tired and ready to die, yet he longed for survival
because his work was not yet done.
For two centuries, Fanton had ruled as Lord of the North Hemisphere.
He had seen the great prosperity of the planet even under conditions
whereby the scientists of his father had foreseen the planet's death.
He had been there at the birth of their scientific magic.
Fandor, his father, had been a wise and gentle ruler. When the Terrans
came in their great ships, Fandor had prevailed upon the Council and
a policy of cautious retreat had been instituted. Fandor advocated
this because he knew the Martian science was no match for that of the
Terrans. Not that the wizardry of the Martian scientists was any less
great, but they had bent their efforts in peaceful directions while the
Terrans came with huge warships and no end of armament.
So the Martians, under Fandor, had retreated quietly to the north
allowing the Terrans to move onto the planet. This policy was much
despised by the young and the hot-headed who would have preferred to
meet the invader face to face and die in battle if need be. But the
majority of the Council was old and weary as was Fandor, and they
prevailed.
Then Fandor felt he had lived long enough and refused to enter the
place of Eternal Strength--greatest miracle of Martian science. He died
peacefully and Fanton put on his royal robes.
Now those robes had been torn from his body and he had been refused
access to the place of Eternal Strength. Pandek, the fiery young
Councilman had overthrown him and assumed power and the younger
Martians were preparing to sweep down over the planet and slay the
unsuspecting Terrans.
They would be slaughtered of course. This, Fanton knew, because the
Martian weapons were puny, but there would be death and fiery agony
before the Terrans finally won.
Many times, in his heart, Fanton had wondered if the policy of the old
ones had been wise. Fanton was a scholar. The books of the Terrans had
been smuggled into the north country. He had learned the language and
read the books and there was one Terran writer of whom he never tired;
a genius named William Shakespeare. In his great play called _Julius
Caesar_, Shakespeare had said: _There is a tide in the affairs of men
which taken at its flood leads on to fortune._
Lying in his filthy cell, Fanton's mind was cloudy. He was not sure if
those were the exact words but the point was clear. Perhaps there had
been a time in the affairs of the Martians when the tide of fortune
was at its flood--when they could have won out over the Terrans. But
that time had certainly long-passed and if their present plight was
the result of the old mistakes, then so be it. There was still no
justification for mass suicide.
So Fanton did not want to die. His work remained undone. Above his
cell, in the Amphitheater of the Gods, Padtek was fomenting a kettle of
hell's brew. Already, they had used the Place of Eternal Strength in a
fiendish manner--desecrated it--and now they deprived their Emperor of
its healing magic.
Fanton realized the die was cast. He himself had been removed from the
stage. Mad new actors bent upon destruction were reading their lines.
He, Fanton, was finished....
* * * * *
Tommy Wilks walked a long way down the dark passage, his light picking
a path through the gloom. He knew he had already gone further than he
should but always there was the temptation to see what lay just ahead.
And nothing was ever there. Only the sinister black passage leading
onward. He explored another length, then stopped. This was far enough.
What if he had unknowingly turned into a by-passage? Suppose he would
miss the intersection on the way back?
Thoughts such as these flared into his mind to bring a sudden sense
of entrapment. The walls seemed to be closing in on him. He turned to
retrace his steps.
Then he froze. Sound. A far-away, echoing sound. The soft tap of
footsteps. But coming closer. Tommy threw his light on down the tunnel.
He strained his eyes ahead looking for whatever or whoever made the
sound.
It was louder now and he realized, too late, that his flash was
on--guiding the menace--serving as a beacon. He clawed at the switch
but his fingers were clumsy thumbs. When he finally got the light out,
the footsteps had increased to a running tempo. He turned and fled
blindly back along the tunnel. He had not taken ten steps when he
tripped and fell. He struggled to his feet in panic. Too late. Hard,
rough hands were upon him.
He fought but his struggles were useless....
* * * * *
Twice, Rex had tried to maneuver the Martians into removing the thongs
from his wrists. At the end of the rail line there was a pool of water
fed by a spring. He motioned toward his wrists and signified thirst.
One of the Martians callously threw water in his face until he was
gasping for breath. His second attempt failed also and now he and Jean
were being led through a shining marble corridor the like of which he
had never seen even in the finer buildings on Terra. What manner of
world, he wondered, was hidden here under the northern Martian ice cap?
But the wonder in store made the corridor look like a tunnel clawed
through bare earth. It was a huge amphitheater into which he and
Jean were rudely shoved. They stood frozen, their perilous position
momentarily forgotten.
"Did you ever see anything like it?" Jean gasped.
"It must be an illusion of some kind. I can't believe it really exists."
The floor upon which they stood was of pure, glittering gold. It
stretched away in shining glory to a wall of crystal--a window so high
and vast Rex could not conceive it as standing alone. Surely it had to
fall by its own weight.
It dwarfed a high, curved dais along which sat a line of richly robed
Martians. In the center of the dais was an elevated throne upon which
sat a scowling young Martian.
But the thing that caught and held the two Terrans were the towering
cliffs of ice framed in the great window as by a master painter. Rex
and Jean were pushed forward. As they came near the high throne, the
young Martian smiled coldly as he noted the direction of their eyes.