He shook his head.
They passed through the lock into the swirling yellow air. It was like
swimming. They crept down the gangplank. The bearers were standing
patiently at the surface.
Gavin had seen Jovian dawn men before, but they never failed to
excite his curiosity. Huge, almost seven feet tall, and muscled like
gladiators, they were imposing as Greek gods. Their skin was the vivid
blue of polished turquoise, their long manes as yellow as a sunburst.
"There's a double litter," Nadia pointed out. "Let's take that."
Gavin followed her inside. The litter was cushioned like a divan. One
was borne along in a semi reclining position. Nadia clapped her hands
and cried, "Cantonment!"
Four naked blue giants swung the litter to their shoulders and started
off at a rapid trot. In a few paces, the ship had disappeared. They
were like a tiny raft, alone in a welter of yellow oppressive fog.
Gavin, peering over the edge, saw that the giants were following a
paved road. After a moment they began to pass an endless procession
of dawn men, chained ankle to ankle and moving sluggishly toward the
_Nova_.
Already the loading had started.
Gavin stared at the half-men curiously. They crept along, features
drawn, their yellow manes matted with dirt. There was a haunted look
in their eyes like caged animals.
Thirty percent would die in the crossing, he knew. Within a year
ninety percent of the rest would be dead, victims of home-sickness, of
pneumonia and measles and Venusian lung rot, not to mention a score of
other diseases. The terrible rate of fatality was good business for the
slavers. It held up the demand.
"They aren't really human," said Nadia in a faint voice as if reading
his thoughts. "They're sub-men."
Gavin nodded. Some place along the evolutionary scale the Jovians
had taken a wrong turning. They would never evolve into true _homo
sapiens_. But even cattle weren't treated as they were.
The walls of the cantonment hove suddenly in view through the murky
atmosphere. The giants paused before a massive entrance like the gate
of a feudal castle.
Gavin climbed out of the litter and started to help Nadia down.
Somewhere off in the distance he heard a faint popping.
"What is it?" cried the girl, struck by his strained air of attention.
"It sounds like the dum-dum fire. Listen!"
They both fell silent.
* * * * *
From the direction of the _Nova_ came faintly a sound like a string of
fire-crackers going off together. "It _is_ dum-dum fire!"
"But it can't be! It's impossible."
The sound of explosions drifted to them again.
Gavin sprang back into the litter.
"Wait here," he cried. "Something's wrong at the ship." He knew that
it couldn't be the Terran patrol spacers attacking. The balloon hadn't
time to rise into the stratosphere yet.
A great fear for the _Nova's_ safety gripped him. Whatever the
cost, the ship must be preserved intact so that Terra's scientists
could examine her space drive. It had become the paramount issue,
over-shadowing in importance even the detestable slave trade.
"No!" Nadia cried. "Don't go back there." She flung herself on him,
pressing her body flat against his. "Please, for my sake, Gavin!"
He pushed her rudely aside.
Just then the chief astrogator burst upon them, running from inside the
cantonment. His strides were labored, his breath wheezing in his chest.
He saw Gavin and shouted: "The ship's being attacked! They've radioed
the cantonment for help!"
"Who by?"
"X's men!" The chief astrogator began to run down the paved highway
toward the _Nova_ and was swallowed by the fog.
Gavin heard something whine through the air. He flung himself flat on
his face, shouting at Nadia, "Down! They're shelling the cantonment!"
The shell burst out of sight in the fog. A blast of air hit him like a
wall of water.
Nadia sat up, her face smudged where she'd groveled in the dirt. She
was cursing like a spaceman.
Gavin yanked her to her feet. "Clear out!" He began to haul her away
from the doomed cantonment.
Another shell lobbed over their heads to explode directly behind them.
Gavin's hands were torn from the girl. He was blown a dozen feet by the
blast.
He lay where he lit, knowing nothing, feeling nothing.