The Deserter
Yaxa, the prisoner, was of course ignorant of all these things as he
sat alone in his secret prison. Food came to him by dumbwaiter and he
did not see a human face. It was not until the middle of January that
the door of his cell opened and admitted a Terrestrial--a Terrestrial
whom he recognized as one of the three who had captured him.
"Courage!" said Neil Andresson. "We're getting out of here."
Yaxa looked at him levely. They made a striking contrast; the
saddle-colored Martian--with his puffy body, his spidery legs and his
head that, except for the brilliant eyes, seemed to be a high-craniumed
skull covered only with skin--looked like a weird cartoon of the
Terrestrial with his fine, muscular proportions, his smooth cheeks and
his smiling countenance.
"Are you going to torture me further?" demanded Yaxa.
"Not I," said Neil. "If you'll remember, I never offered you violence
at any time. I was not in sympathy with the measures taken to
wring information from you, though I was in the minority and had
to countenance them. For that matter, I'm not in sympathy with the
Terrestrial cause at all."
"Then what are you doing here?" asked the Martian.
"I succeeded in being detailed to guard you. I'm going to set you free."
Yaxa made a helpless gesture. "What can I do if I am freed? I'll be
a stranger in a hostile world. Terrestrials will recognize me for an
enemy as far as they can see me. I'll be hunted down and killed or
injured or, at the very least, brought back to prison."
"I've provided for that, else I would not have made the suggestion,"
said Neil. "Here, take this pistol. And see the cloak I am wearing.
Take it, drape it about you. At first glance you might pass for a
Terrestrial. Come, I know where your ship is kept. We'll escape in it."
"We?" repeated the captive.
"Yes, I'm going with you, back to your asteroid. It's within space-shot
now. I cannot remain here, I would be punished as a traitor."
His eyes shining with new hope, Yaxa donned Neil's cape and followed
him into a deserted hallway, then out into a street where a closed
surface-car awaited them. They entered this and traveled, by
traffic-way and by lift, to the very top level of the city.
When Neil opened the door Yaxa peeped out and saw that they had reached
a rocketport. Hangars stood at every hand, with rows of space craft,
large and small, on all sides. But nearest to them and isolated from
the others was the fast Martian scout which had been his when he had
flown to his capture.
"Quick, we have no time to lose," Neil urged him, and they left
the car. A dozen steps took them to the side of the space-ship. A
lock-panel was open and the two of them entered the inner compartment.
Sukune and Bull Mike looked up curiously from their seats inside. The
leveled pistols of the two intruders prompted the young guards to raise
their hands. "What's the meaning of this?" asked Sukune.
"It's what you Terrestrials call poetic justice," smiled Yaxa. "You
captured me--now I have captured you."
"Neil, you traitor!" fumed Bull Mike.
"I wouldn't call names if I were in your shoes," rejoined Neil,
crossing to the panel which led into the storeroom, and opening it.
"Yaxa, this ship is well supplied with everything we need on the
voyage. Shall we leave?"
"Yes, of course. What shall we do with these friends of yours?"
"Don't call me a friend of his," growled Bull Mike.
"We'll take them along," replied Neil, taking no notice of his former
chum's remark. "If we let them go now they'll rouse the whole planet on
us. As it is, the force that is tackling your asteroid doesn't leave
for two days yet. That ought to be head start enough for us."
It seemed that nobody at the rocketport noticed the departure of the
Martian ship. If notice was taken, perhaps it was reflected that there
were Terrestrial guards on board and that all must be well. Unhindered,
the craft went up and out, cleared the atmospheric envelope and headed
for the bright speck in the sky that marked the sham world which was
its goal.
* * * * *
For a few hours there was silence aboard between the captives and the
captors, but at length Sukune spoke up with a smile.
"Why be unreasonable about this thing?" he said. "If we're to be
together for two months or so in space, we might as well be pleasant
about it. I, for one, will accept defeat gracefully if you'll let me."
"Gladly," said Yaxa.
"Me, too," said Bull Mike.
"That settles it," said Yaxa. "We'll get along together, I'm sure."
"Senator W. L. Marcy of our United States once said, 'To the victors
belong the spoils,'" continued Sukune. "We'll admit for the time being
that you are victors and we're the spoils. Until the situation reverses
itself we'll be model prisoners."
They gathered in friendly fashion around the television screen and
dialed in the image of the asteroid. It appeared half light, half
dark, like a moon at the half. They could pick out the roughnesses of
mountains, ravines and plains, all made in miniature by clever Martian
artisans. They discussed what they saw like real comrades, all enmity
apparently forgotten.
When two days had passed they watched the diminishing Earth by
television and, sure enough, sighted great clouds of shining
specks--the hundreds of flights of space-ships that were taking the
ether. They saw how some flew slowly, others swiftly, so that in a
short time they had formed into the conventional "curtain front"--an
open order formation of three dimensions, roughly disk-like in shape
and perpendicular to the line of advance. It was about a thousand miles
in diameter and about as thick through as the distance in which three
or four ships could fly in single column. Against the black sky it
looked like a moving galaxy of runaway stars.
In front of this formation danced several flights of speedy scouts.
"Raws and the boys are among those," said Sukune.
"Don't the Martians inside the asteroid see that attacking force?"
asked Bull Mike. "They can fly away, can't they? Well, why don't they?"
"A body of that size could hardly carry enough fuel for a long,
sustained trip," Yaxa explained. "It just boosts itself along
occasionally as it follows the orbit to which it is held by the sun's
gravitational pull. That being the case, it could hardly hope to escape
from those lighter, further-traveling ships. My companions inside
doubtless figure that they might as well face the attack first as last."
There was something uncanny in the thought of what was being done
and decided inside that floating globe, so like a lifeless planetoid
and yet the work of mortal hands. Brimful of men and weapons it was
destined to destroy whatever of Earth it might.
A month passed. And then another week. Larger and ever larger grew the
mock asteroid until it filled a sizeable portion of the television
screen that reflected it. At last they swooped down toward it, a great
uneven globe the color of clay that spun slowly upon its tilted axis.
Lightly as a falling leaf the ship descended. Neil was at the controls
inside, while Yaxa sent code messages by radio. A great black opening
suddenly appeared. Into this the craft slipped.
It fitted into the end of a long tube, like a nut dropped into a
mouse-hole. As it came to a stop Yaxa opened the lock-panel to the
outside. At once several Martians, all heavily armed, looked in. At the
sight of the Terrestrials they levelled automatic rifles and pistols.
"It's all right," said Yaxa. "One of these is a friend, the other two
are prisoners."
Still suspicious, a guard took the four to an officer. There Yaxa made
a long report in an undertone. The three Terrestrials were questioned
next, one at a time. In the end Sukune and Bull Mike were sent away to
be confined.
"As for you," the officer said to Neil, "I find that you have done a
great service to us and that at a great personal sacrifice. Consider
yourself one of us. We are prepared to offer you whatever reward you
ask within reason."
"Thank you," replied Neil. "I know nothing that I would like at present
except a chance to inspect your wonderful asteroid."
"We will gladly grant you such a chance," he was assured.
Some conversation about the oncoming Terrestrial force then followed,
but Neil, a simple scout in rank, was unable to give much information.
At last he was allowed to go away with Yaxa, who by this time looked
upon him as a close friend.
* * * * *
They walked through long, high corridors, walled with gray metal
and flanked by doors opening into compartments of various styles
and equipment. Aided by Yaxa's explanations. Neil was not long in
visualizing the whole structure as a series of spherical surfaces,
one within another, each surface utilized as the floor of a level.
Artificial gravity was set up at the core and elevators and sloping
runways permitted the garrison to progress from one level to another.
"Most of all," said Neil, "I want to view this wonderful mechanism
which holds the four parts of your asteroid together."
"A trifle, nothing but a trifle," Yaxa replied with a deprecatory
gesture. "The principal is a simple magnetic one. The four
sections--the fruit slices, I once described them--bring their inner
angles together along a common line. That common line is a long, thin
cable made of six different kinds of metal, each of the six connected
with a special motor at either end. They set up the current among
themselves, and the cable acts as the pole of our world."
"And if the current was cut off?"
"Then the four sections would float apart. But the current will endure
as long as the cable is not cut clean in two."
"Then where is the center of gravity?"
"At the very mid-point of the cable, which is also the center of the
asteroid and of each concentric sphere within it."
"I would greatly like to see this cable," said Neil again.
"That is the only request I cannot grant you," the Martian replied.
"It is the most sacred, the most jealously fenced object of all. Every
foot is guarded by trusted men, each one sworn to defend it with his
last drop of blood. Only the commander of this garrison can be admitted
to the tubular compartment which surrounds its central emanator
of gravity, or to the shops where the motors run. But don't feel
disappointed over such a prohibition. Come, we'll go to a theater and
on the way we'll pass as close to the cable as we're likely to get."
Sure enough, as they walked down the corridor they came to a juncture
of four wide passages. Here was a small concourse, thronged with
pedestrians, and in its very center a stout metal pillar rose from the
flooring to the roof. Two sentries stood vigilantly on opposite sides
of it.
"We are now at the point where the four sections meet on this level,"
Yaxa pointed out. "As you see, the walls are cut well away to allow
the passages to cross. That pillar is made of four pieces--the edges
of the sections. Enclosed by them is the cable I told you about. The
pillar and the cable extend above and below here, from one pole of the
asteroid to the other."
Neil looked at the arrangement as if fascinated but Yaxa urged him
on. They came to the spot where opposite partitions of two adjoining
sections came together. There was not enough space to insert a
knife-blade, so accurately had the structure been made.
"Not very thick for outer walls," observed Neil, measuring the
partitions with his eye. "A Terrestrial disintegrator-ray could easily
pierce them."
"Of course, but these are only inner walls, after all. The real strong,
thick partition is the outside, the tough rind of the fruit. That is
too much for the strongest ray or bomb ever made."
"There aren't any bolts to hold the sections together."
"Have you forgotten what I told you about the artificial gravity? That
holds everything in place. But here's the theater. Let's get inside or
we'll be late."