not pay too much attention to these things. Von Borck may be truly
believing what he desires, I do not know, but I think he is just what
you call an opportunity seeker.
"After my army service, I chose to remain at the Lake Baikal station as
a regular engineer. I worked on the thousand-mile rockets, and finally
on the satellite rockets, and I helped get them up there. It was a nice
race with you Americans. We knew a little of your plans--those you
publish in the papers--and we always were urged to beat you. Sometimes
we did. Sometimes you beat us.
"At our centers we made a game of this. It was serious to our country,
but to us, men of science, all discoveries by human beings are great
things. We liked to think of our work as a great game of mental chess
with you Americans--with the pieces on the board carefully hidden from
sight and reported only through guesswork and bad witnesses.
"When the satellites were up and flying their orbits around the Earth,
yours and ours, the next game was obviously to race for the Moon.
Should we plant the Red flag there, or you the Stars and Stripes? So we
worked at that. We did not this time know what you were doing. Maybe
you had different ideas.
"So Van Borck discovered a means of using atomic explosions in a steady
rocket stream and explained the principle. We worked on this motor
a while and finally the Ministry ordered the building of one rocket
which could fly to the Moon with this super-powerful engine. At first
our commander at the base said it should be a robot-piloted model, but
Moscow did not want that. They wanted that men should go on that first
trip. They wanted that a Soviet man should be first to reach the Moon.
"They did not know about you, Robin, and your stowaway trip! Ha! But
even the Americans do not apparently know about you, alas for both of
us!"
Piotr stopped a moment, got to his feet, went to the door of the cave
and listened. He came back. "No one there watching us. I go on," he
said.
"So finally was built a big rocket with the first atomic explosive
engine. Von Borck himself was going to go in it as its engineer. But
Von Borck was not really a Soviet man, and I do not think Moscow was
happy about it. So they allowed for the ship to have a three-man crew.
I was selected, because I am young and quick and have a good record,
and also maybe because I have no family to be sorry I not come back
maybe. Arkady Pavlovitch Zverin was the third, who was also an orphan.
"Came a day when the big rocket was complete and ready. We said good-by
to our friends and at the right time we went up the ladder and into our
big rocket. That day, which seems to me so long ago, must have been not
even a week ago yet!
"We took off perfectly, we blasted for ten minutes--I thought my head
would burst--and we were on our way. Von Borck piloted it, but there
was really little to do. When it came time to reverse the rockets and
make our landing, we had trouble. Our gyroscope control was stuck and
we had to fight with it by hand to move it. This made a delay and when
we did get our jets reversed and working, our timing was off. Von Borck
struggled to slow us up and come to a real stop, but we were a little
too fast. We came down blasting away, and we hit very hard.
"The rocket was partly smashed. The engines and tubes all crushed. The
nose was badly jarred and poor Arkady was killed by the impact. Von
Borck, too, was thrown from his seat, knocked unconscious on the floor
of our little cabin. I was badly bruised, but I remained conscious.
"Fortunately for us, the little cabin remained airtight. When all was
still, I looked over what happened. I looked outside. We were in a
large crater, whose bottom was crisscrossed with cracks. One of these,
running into the distance, was quite glassy and I saw that something
like steam was issuing from a point near it. This meant to me that
somewhere underneath the surface there might be a place with air and
water.
"I had at first thought all was lost and I would remain in the little
cabin until the air was used up or the food gave out. This would be
only a few days. But I thought that any chance, however little, was
better than no chance. So I managed to get to the locker and get out
two space suits. One I put on Von Borck who was still unconscious, but
whom I could not leave behind. The other I got into myself.
"I took the German over my shoulder and managed to get out of the ship
through the lock which was still intact. Carrying my companion--it was
easy, he was so light on the Moon--I explored the cracks near where the
ship fell. I found a way leading down and even a series of very natural
air locks--a most unusual development.
"Passing through many caves and tunnels I made my way and finally got
to this one. Von Borck had regained consciousness but he was not in his
right senses. He was talking nonsense. He believed--I do not know how
to put it--he was the King of the Trolls. He thought he was somewhere
in--fairyland or hell or some supernatural place. He did not remember
the trip.
"When we first met these Moon people--you call them Glassies--Von Borck
said they were his Trolls. He killed four of them with his own hands
and the rest became afraid of him, thought him a god or demon come to
rule them. He let me alone a little while, then he seized me, tied me
up himself, and put me here.
"I am afraid that he plans to sacrifice us. He is completely crazy and
he has these Glassies obeying him. I am sorry for us."
Piotr stopped talking. He looked at Korree appraisingly. Robin
understood his intention. "I'm afraid that Korree won't have any
influence with these Glassies. They are a different tribe."
Robin rubbed his hands a bit. "I really think we should be able to
escape, even so. We now outnumber Von Borck two to one and I think if
we pick our time we could manage to make a getaway. We'll have to be
careful. Do you think you could get back to your rocket on the surface?"
The Russian nodded. "I guess we could. I was planning to go back from
the start."
"Is there anything there we could use to signal the Earth with?" asked
Robin. "A radio, flares, mirrors?"
Piotr nodded. "We had speaker-radio equipment, but it was smashed in
the landing. It was the first thing I tried after we hit. But we do
have flares. We could signal with them."
"I imagine," said Robin, "that both the Americans and Russians must
be working on Moon rockets now. If we can signal back there, the next
rocket along might come to this crater and find us."
"Good," said the Russian rocketeer. "Only how do we get to the surface?
I have a space suit, which is probably in Von Borck's cave. Von Borck
must have a suit too, if we can find it, though I think it will be much
too big for you."
Robin explained about his homemade space suit. Piotr was quite
impressed. The suit which was packed in Robin's big sack was in the
prison cave where it had been thrown and they unpacked it. Piotr
examined the helmet with interest. "Very good. It might work. It seems
airtight."
"I tested it under water," said Robin. "It didn't leak any bubbles."
The Russian nodded. "But I don't believe your big bag of air would
work. How would you blow it up in the first place? I think you would
have had a hard time anyway. But fortunately there are three oxygen
tanks on my own suit. I can detach one for your use."
He nodded, looking over the homemade helmet. In the half light of
the cave Robin looked at his new friend with interest. There was
something about his face which struck an odd chord in Robin's mind.
Something about him brought back faint, almost forgotten memories, dim
frightening memories of bombs exploding, of falling buildings, of a
frightened child, and great loss.
Robin suddenly asked, "How did you learn to speak English so well?"
Piotr looked up. "I was wondering when you would ask that. I always
knew English, I spoke it as a little child. When I was found by the
soldiers in Dresden, I was but a little boy, maybe six or seven. I
spoke some German, but mostly I spoke English. They could find no sign
of my parents, my family, so they took me back to Russia with them. I
studied English too in school, but I always knew it."
Robin started, his heart pounding very strangely. "Where did you get
your name? That's Russian."
The other stared at him hard. "No, it's not. My name--Piotr Ivanovitch
Kareff--means Peter the son of John Kareff."
Robin was sure he knew now, but he doggedly insisted on his next
question. "My father's name was also John. John Carew. And how do you
spell your last name?"
"Why," said Peter, a curious smile beginning to force its way to his
lips, "just like it's pronounced in Russia--Kareff--C-A-R-E-W--Kareff."
And at the same instant, tears of joy sprang uncontrollably to their
eyes and the two brothers grabbed each other, laughing and pounding one
another's back in wild reunion.
Korree stared uncomprehendingly at the curious sight of two Earth men
apparently taken leave of their senses.
_15. Getaway Bomb_
After they had recovered from their outburst of enthusiasm the two let
go of each other and sat down out of breath. "Well, this is really
amazing," said Robin finally. "Here I have to go to the Moon to find my
brother. You know I really do not remember very much."
"Of course not. You could not have been more than four years old when
we parted. I was about three years older, I guess. Perhaps we can put
what we do know together and find out what did happen. I know that
Father and Mother were interned in Germany by the Nazis. That when
the war was nearing its end, the Germans started to move them and
other prisoners around. In the confusion, we were stranded somewhere
and there was heavy bombardment going on. I lost you and Mom and Dad
somewhere, wandered by myself for many days. I was with a band of
Russian people who had been taken to Germany by the Nazis to do slave
labor. They were making their way back to their homes and I clung to
them. So the Soviet Army simply counted me among its own orphans and
took me back. But maybe you know more about our family?" Peter looked
expectantly at his younger brother.
Robin nodded. "I don't remember what happened. I was too young. I only
remember being terribly frightened and alone and things going bang.
When I was older I looked up the orphanage records. It seems that Dad
had been some sort of business agent in Germany and when the U.S.
got into the war he was interned along with Mom and the two of us.
Evidently they were killed in some sort of bombardment at the war's
end and I was the only one who survived. You are listed as having been
killed with them, according to the American Army report."
Korree was moving restlessly during this conversation, not
understanding very much of it. Now he pulled at Robin's sleeve,
pointed. "Look. Cheeky come."
Sure enough Robin's simian pet had finally found them. Evidently having
easily avoided capture by the Glassies, the little animal had been
searching for his master. Now his little head appeared around the edge
of the big rock that sealed their cave. At a whistle from Robin, Cheeky
pushed his way through the narrow gap and scampered to his friend.
Peter watched the monkey with interest. "I wonder if we can't make use
of your pet to help us get out of here," he said. "We really ought to
start thinking of escape. I don't know when Von Borck will take the
notion to start something bad."
"Well, let's start planning it out," said Robin. "First, we ought to
see what we have to work with. I think that the Glassies simply threw
everything I had with me in here too. That should make things fairly
simple. What did they have of yours?"
They went over to the pile of things, with Korree along to light the
way, and examined it. Everything was present. Of Peter's property, his
space suit was there, intact, with its three shoulder oxygen tanks.
Robin picked up a gun belt that had evidently been part of the outfit,
but the holster was empty. Peter commented, "Von Borck took it when he
turned on me. He is armed also."
But Robin noticed that the German rocket pilot had evidently not
thought to take the pack of additional pistol ammunition that was
clipped to the belt. He withdrew a clip and turned it over, then said:
"We should be able to use these to start a diversion of some sort. If
we can get their attention elsewhere, we can easily push aside the
rock that seals our cave and make a run for it. We ought not to wait
for Von Borck to make up his mind."
"Ah yes," said his brother. "There is good gunpowder in those bullets.
We could make a small bomb for a fuse or a display."
"I think a bomb will do the trick. Let's get at it." Robin suited
his action to the words. He sat down, spread a clean piece of cloth
he found among Peter's property on the floor and began to pull the
cartridges apart and gently shake out the powder.
Back on Earth, such a job would have been hard without instruments
and great force. Here on the Moon, it was not easy but their strength
enabled them to twist off the metal rims. Soon they had a neat little
pile of explosive powder gathered together.
This they packed into a small glass tube among Peter's explorational
equipment until it was tight and filled the space. They twisted a dry
fiber until it was cordlike and rolled it in a little remaining powder
till it was thoroughly blackened. This they inserted in the end of the
tube as a fuse.
"Now we should get our stuff together and get ready," said Robin. "I
don't think it would be a good idea to go back the way I came in; we'd
just be cutting ourselves off. The idea is to reach your rocket on the
surface. Which way did you come?"
Peter indicated the opposite direction. "I came in through a hole
rather high in the wall, came down here along a narrow ledge. I can
find it again, I think."
"Then let's get into our equipment and get ready," said Robin. He began
to load his huge pack again, but Peter intervened.
"You really can leave some of that behind now," he said. "Make it
easier to move fast. Besides we've got some narrow places to squeeze
through on our way to the surface. I'd suggest leaving most of the food
behind. Take enough for a couple of meals more. You'll only need your
space helmet and space clothes."
Peter was climbing into his space suit, an airtight rubberized affair
with electric heating grids. This on, he put on his space helmet for
the sake of convenience, though he left the little panel of the face
window open. Robin slung his own helmet from his shoulder--its vision
plate, being homemade, was fixed in place.
When they were ready, they went over to the entrance and peeked through
the narrow, open space. "Why, it's dark outside!" said Robin.
Where before the deep cleft had been lighted by the white light of the
outside sun, now it was dark. It was not as dark as the bubble-caverns
below had been, for a faint light still penetrated down from the
ceiling. They could make out the darker shadows of the surrounding
growth, and the Glassies outside were moving figures each illuminated
by a small circle of light from their head stalks.
"Evidently the sun is going down on the Moon's surface," said Peter.
"It was low on the horizon when my rocket arrived. I wonder how cold it
will get in this place?"
"It seems to be a little colder already," said Robin. "This may bring
Von Borck out of his cave to see what's happening."
Robin called to Korree, explained what they were about to do. Then
while Korree kept a hand on Cheeky, the two Earthlings leaned their
shoulders against the big boulder and pushed it aside easily--an effort
which would have blocked Moon muscles.
Korree had dimmed his headlight and the two men kneeled down and
carefully lighted the fuse of their bomb with Robin's flint and steel.
The end of the fiber sputtering, Robin took Cheeky and pressed the
glass vial into the monkey's paws. "Over there," he whispered to the
monkey urgently, and pointed a finger to the darkness opposite the
direction in which they would be heading. "Take it over there and leave
it," he whispered.
He'd often taught Cheeky to fetch and carry, and he hoped the animal
would obey. It did. Grabbing the glass tube with its smoking fuse, the
monkey dashed off into the darkness.
"I hope he remembers to drop it and come back," said Robin. Peter
nodded. "Let's get started."
The men and Korree started slowly out of the cave. There was a very
faint dimness about them, a starlight glow that was just enough to
distinguish the presence of objects. They moved slowly, avoiding the
telltale lights of passing Glassies. Korree kept his own stalklight
dark.
Suddenly the peace and darkness were split by a sharp, violent
explosion somewhere behind them. Immediately following was a
screeching, recognizable as the sound of an angry monkey and almost as
frightening.
For an instant there was stunned silence and then pandemonium broke
loose. Glassies came running in all directions, slamming into each
other, not knowing what had happened. Some were running away from the
noise, some were running to investigate the terrible bang, and others
were simply running for cover in the caves. In the mad helter-skelter,
Robin and Peter and Korree ran as fast as they could to the far end of
the cleft.
They dodged tree stalks, pushed through other patches, stumbled
occasionally over obstacles, but carried on. Robin noticed even as
he ran that the vegetation was already drying up and dying rapidly.
The cessation of sunlight had probably been quite abrupt as the sun
had sunk behind whatever crater walls made up the horizon above them.
Evidently the growth here was geared to a short, heavy life and sudden
death.
Over the frightened, high-pitched voices of the Glassies, Robin now
heard another sound, the roaring voice of a man. Von Borck had been
brought out. He was yelling something, shouting angrily.
Peter called to Robin as they dashed along. "He's trying to get them to
order. He knows we did it. But they don't understand him."
On they ran. Now behind them they heard some signs of pursuit.
Evidently Peter was overoptimistic. Somehow Von Borck must have
managed to get the Glassies to realize his meaning. Hitting some and
shoving others, he had clearly gotten a few, who were still in awe
of his "magic," to follow him. They could hear the sounds of stalks
cracking far behind them as they ran. But they had a good head start.
Robin had been hanging on to Korree's arm, dragging him with him in
huge, leaping steps. But as they dashed on, he realized that Peter was
slowing his own steps to accommodate and that the sounds of Von Borck's
rush behind them were beginning to be louder.
Korree evidently realized this too. "Leave me," he gasped. "I make
out." With a twist he slipped out of Robin's hand and ran into the
darkness.
"Wait!" yelled Robin after him, stopping. But Peter turned back,
grabbed his brother. "He's right. He'll be better off here. We couldn't
get him to the surface anyway. Come on! Quick!"
With a sudden lurch of his heart and lump in his throat Robin
recognized the truth of this. He grabbed Peter's hand and the two of
them started off faster than ever, heading for the far wall in huge
Earthborn leaps.
It was an eerie experience dashing madly along in the near blackness
of the cleft. The faint glow which came from above, probably only the
light of a million million faraway stars, filtered through the curious
translucent material of the cleft top, serving only to make patches of
blackness against patches of even greater blackness. Far behind them a
faint flickering indicated the movements of the natives. Now and then a
startling flicker would prove the presence of some startled Moonworm,
uncovered as a stalk was thrown over in the rush.
Behind them they could hear a crashing and every now and then a shouted
word. Robin wondered what was being said, but Peter, sensing his
wonder, gasped out, "He's shouting ... the word for devils! When ... he
came to ... he believed himself ... in some sort ... of Troll
kingdom ... with me ... as a ... devil."
"Crazy! Stark raving mad!" shouted Robin back.
On they went. The helmet banging against Robin's back made him feel
clumsy and odd, yet he moved through the air with the agility of a
phantom.
Now, suddenly, there loomed a dark wall before them and they caught
themselves back just in time to keep from smashing headlong into it.
"The wall!" shouted Robin.
Peter pulled his arm, started hurrying along to one side. He gave a
sharp cry of relief, pulled Robin to him. "Here we are, the ledge. Go
on up!"
Peter started off. Robin followed as fast as was possible. There was
evidently a thin ledge running up the side of the cave. In places it
was a gentle slope angling upward, in other parts there was a sudden
step. In their haste there was no time to pick and choose their steps.
Several times Robin tripped, almost falling, but he had built up such a
momentum that he simply slammed and banged over the obstacles, charging
up the ledge with a luck and agility that would have made a mountain
goat jealous.
Behind them, at the base of the cliff, they now heard Von Borck's
roaring. "_Teufel!_" he was calling. Then suddenly from where the
madman stood, there beamed out a flash of yellow light. A flashlight,
thought Robin, he had a flash.
The beam passed rapidly over the cave wall seeking the escapers. Once
or twice they froze against the side as it passed over them, dashing on
as soon as it was gone. Then Von Borck's light caught them, held them.
"Keep running," yelled Peter, "it's not far now!"
The two kept up. Then there was a sharp report below them and something
went _spang_ on the rock wall near Robin. A bullet ... the mad rocket
pilot was firing at them.
Now they simply raced on, ignoring the German's wild shots. "Here we
are!" gasped Peter and seemed to melt right into the cliff face. Robin
saw the black opening in the next second and tumbled into it, to be
caught by his brother's arms.
For an instant they stood there in the darkness, catching their breath.
Then a light appeared in Peter's hand, and Robin saw that he held
an electric torch there, part of his space-suit equipment. The beam
illuminated a narrow, dark tunnel leading steeply upward apparently
through the solid rock.
"This way!" said Peter and started off. Robin followed him on into the
narrow path that would lead him at long last to the surface of the
Moon.
_16. On the Crater Floor_
The tunnel was very narrow, a mere crack in the wall, and Robin was
hard put to squeeze through in a couple of spots. But it was not too
long and, in a few minutes, Robin felt from the change in air and echo
that it had opened out into a wider area.
Peter's flash confirmed this. They were in a small air-pocket bubble
several yards wide. They crossed this while Peter searched along the
floor. He stopped, pointed down.
"We go down again, through this hole in the floor. There's a short
drop of only a few feet, but be careful."
Peter stepped over to the hole, sat down, and eased himself out of
sight. Robin looked down, could see the floor of another cave just
below. He dropped his pack through and squeezed down.
Here they were in a sort of shallow flaw running lengthwise, and they
had to walk in a crouched position to keep their heads from bumping the
low ceiling.
Robin wondered how Peter knew which way to go, but looking carefully,
he realized that his brother was only following the trail of his
footsteps made on arriving--for there was a thin coating of dust on
this floor that showed the trail.
"How did you ever find this passage?" asked Robin, his voice echoing
flat and high in the passage.
"Saw the sealed cleft top running across the bottom of this crater.
Found a spot near it where some sort of gas was hissing out. Went down
it, and simply followed every lead that pointed in the direction of
the cleft." Robin knew that behind this reply undoubtedly lay a lot of
sweat and agony. Peter had made the trip carrying an unconscious body
with him!
The low passage ended in a small cave-bubble. A break at the top of
this was the next line of direction. Peter had simply dropped down on
his arrival, but they waited to catch their breath. They would have to
jump for it.
"Do you suppose Von Borck is following us?" asked Robin while waiting.
Peter shook his head. "I doubt it. First, we'd probably have been able
to hear him coming. Second, he'd still know enough to go get his space
suit before following us. Third, he won't remember anything of this
trip and will have to find his way."