"They're getting careless," Terry pointed out. "They used to have a
dozen men guarding us day and night. If we even got a little too far
away from the village, we'd be shoved back. Now only one Zombie is
guarding us. We're allowed to go almost anywhere, except near the
spaceship."
"They read our minds, so they're always two jumps ahead of us, Terry.
No. The principle of brains over brawn can't be beaten. We're licked."
"I'm not," Terry announced. "Once you called me a coward--you said I
was yellow. But a coward isn't the man who is afraid, it's the man
that lets fear get the upperhand. You're being a coward now, Cappy.
You're admitting that Chomby and his pals have the Injun sign on us.
I'm not admitting it. It isn't brains that makes men the rulers of nine
planets, and it isn't fear. Man has something else that gives him a
physiological edge. I'm going to find out what that is. When we find
it, we'll be free men again."
"When you find it, the Mercurians will know. They'll be ready to keep
us from using the weapon--whatever it is--before we know we've got it."
"Some day we'll have a chance. Some day we'll have a chance to slug our
guard and get back to the spaceship--"
Terry paused. He looked at the dozing Mercurian at the mouth of the
cave. Even as Terry looked the Mercurian roused out of his sleep. The
thought thread had roused the guard from a deep slumber.
"Now!" Terry yelled. "Now's our chance!"
Terry sprang. The guard tried to seize the stone club at his side, but
his clumsy hand was not made for swift action. Terry was on him before
the guard could send out a mental alarm and the young earthman's fist
crashed against the base of the guard's skull.
Terrestrial muscles, built for a heavier force of gravity, delivered
a sledgehammer blow. The guard toppled forward. Terry leaped over the
figure and darted into the open.
Another figure rose before Terry, but again Terry's fist smashed.
Cappy was beside Terry now and together they raced toward the path that
led in the direction of the spaceship.
"They'll follow us!" Cappy said. "They can trail us by our thoughts. If
we miss the ship and have to double back, we'll run into them."
"We won't miss!" Terry said.
* * * * *
The sudden formulation of the escape plan had been too quick for even
the Mercurian brains to block. Terry and Cappy were racing into the
forest of ferns far ahead of their pursuers. The coordinated muscles
of the earthmen were far more capable of traveling swiftly than those
of the Mercurians behind and sounds of pursuit grew fainter in the
distance.
But Terry knew that these creatures were dogged. They would follow
until the spaceship's rockets blasted loose from the planet.
"Remember," Terry whispered, "don't act on any set plan. Don't plan
what you'll do when you meet 'em. If you do they'll be prepared for it.
Act on impulse, before they know what you intend to do."
"I'll remember," Cappy panted.
Was it impulse that made terrestrials the masters of the universe?
Terry wondered. It hardly seemed logical, yet impulse had given them
their first chance of freedom. But impulse might lead them astray.
First thoughts are not always the best thoughts. True enough, man had
made some strides by accident, but far more of his greatest discoveries
and most useful inventions had been the result of years of labor and
careful planning. No, it wasn't impulse. Some other weapon had to be
used to defeat the Mercurians decisively. Terry and Cappy might escape
through luck, but some day there would be a final, decisive battle
that would employ the one thing that gave man an advantage over the
semi-human monsters of the first planet.
Terry hoped he could discover that weapon now.
They had been over the route to the spaceship three times. Once in
company with Chomby on their first trip to the Mercurian village. They
had returned in company with a guard and come back again later.
Terry had noted a few landmarks and now he began to spot them again. A
curious-shaped rock; a spring of moulten metal; a deep fissure in the
soil.
But as they traveled toward the sun's corona the air grew warmer.
Vegetation became profuse and the trail was more difficult to find. But
Cappy had kept his eyes open, too. Between them they made their way,
slower and slower.
Suddenly Terry stopped. An icy finger had passed over his brain. A
wordless thought flashed into his consciousness.
"This is Chomby, Terryhall. Go back, or you will be unmercifully
killed."
Cappy looked at Terry. The same thought had flashed through his brain.
"I am ahead of you, earthmen. I am waiting in front of the spaceship.
In my hands I hold a flourobeam gun. You cannot pass me, earthmen!"
Cappy groaned.
"They're still two jumps ahead, Terry! They've outfigured us again.
They knew we might get away by accident. So they put Chomby out here to
intercept us and he's armed with our weapons!"
Terry was afraid. He knew the power of a flourobeam. He'd seen it
blast rocks into powder and he knew that a man could never survive its
charge. One blast from the gun could wipe out all trace of Terry and
Cappy.
Terry's face paled. Then, suddenly, he moved forward.
"Come on, Cappy! You said I was yellow once. Let's see who's yellow
now!"
"But that gun! This isn't being brave! It's foolhardy. The better part
of valor is knowing when you're licked."
"Come on," Terry said, moving ahead.
"You're a fool, Terry," Cappy said. "But you've got guts! Now listen to
reason!"
But Terry would not listen. He moved forward. Cappy, sweating, came
following.
"It's suicide!" cried the older man.
* * * * *
In the center of a clearing stood the spaceship. The streaks of the
corona revealed a figure, huge, hideous and ape-like, standing before
the locks.
It was Chomby, holding the flourobeam gun, aiming at the two
terrestrials who emerged from the forest.
"If you come closer, I'll shoot!" It was a thought, not a voice, that
flashed toward the men, but the words were as clear as if Chomby had
spoken.
"We're licked, Terry!" Cappy said. "I'll surrender."
Slowly Cappy's hands went over his head.
"And what about you, Terryhall?"
Terry stood in the clearing, looking at the Mercurian. The young man's
face was pale and green beneath the corona glow.
"This is a war of the worlds, Chomby," he said. "It's a fight between
your race and mine. It's a Waterloo for one of us."
"You haven't a chance, Terryhall. You know the power of this gun."
Terry's lips tightened into a thin, straight line. His body crouched
for an instant and then he sprang. The terrestrial muscles sent him
shooting toward Chomby. His feet touched the ground again, and like
steel springs he shot forward a second time.
Chomby's fingers tightened on the trigger of the weapon. They seemed to
twitch.
Cappy closed his eyes.
An inhuman scream rent the Mercurian air. But the gun did not go off.
Cappy opened his eyes to see Terry and the monster rolling on the
ground. Terry's fingers were closed about the Mercurian's throat.
Chomby struggled feebly, and then lay still.
Terry rose, picked up the gun and motioned to Cappy.
"Put down your hands and start moving your legs. Get into those locks
before the rest of them get here!"
Cappy's jaw worked up and down, but words did not come from his throat.
Somehow he moved. He ran into the locks and a moment later he was at
the controls.
"Let 'er go!" Terry said.
Cappy, still speechless, pressed the charger. The rockets roared. The
machine lurched skyward and Mercury was left behind.
"What happened?" Cappy asked.
"I just remembered that when we were last carrying the guns we had the
safety catches on. The catches are released with the thumb. Chomby
couldn't do it! He couldn't have shot me, even though he wanted to. The
safety catches are such a small piece of the flourobeam mechanism that
we never think of them. Chomby didn't have a chance to read our minds
about the safety catch until it was too late."
"Terry," Cappy said. "I'll take back everything I said about you being
yellow. You've got guts! More than I have, Terry."
"Guts? Hell, Cappy, I was scared to death every second."