"Then we stay here?" Her knowledge of the Martians was useless in this
arid waste, and she turned to him for leadership.
"What else?" he replied with a shrug. "We'd scorch on the desert even
if the Mec rocket patrols didn't pick us off. Here we can last for a
while at least, and hope for a break."
Darkness fell without twilight, and almost at once the air took on a
penetrating chill. They found refuge in a sheltered crevice, huddling
close together for warmth while the rising wind howled a dirge of
desolation and the two moons of Mars cast wavering shadows. They slept
fitfully and uneasily.
* * * * *
A pebble clinked against a stone. Nick's eyes opened in the orange
dawn. A silhouette that was not human moved against the luminous sky
and his grip tightened on his knife as he slid noiselessly out of the
crevice.
He recognized Klev just in time. Then he stared and sheathed his knife
again, for the Martian presented a picture of battered dejection.
His face was shapeless, one eye almost closed by a pinkish swelling,
and the crest atop his head was even more tattered than before. His
shoulders seemed smaller, and Nick saw they were bare. His _varlu_ was
gone, and the other _voras_ of his clothing were shredded and damaged.
At a rising hum from the south he made frantic gestures and the old
Martian stumbled toward the hidden crevice, dragging one leg as though
it were partially paralyzed.
Nick saw he could never reach shelter before the patrol rocket sighted
him. He leaped forward, seized the Martian in both arms and carried him
bodily the few steps to the protecting nook, dropping him and throwing
himself flat just as the silvery hull appeared over the rim of the
bowl. Susan awakened with a startled outcry but had the presence of
mind to remain motionless until the rocket had roared away.
"We'll have to watch out for them constantly," Nick warned. "They'll
gun or bomb anything that moves."
"Klev, what happened to you?" Susan asked anxiously as she saw the
Martian's condition.
He grimaced as he tried to sit up, his injuries not helped by Nick's
necessarily rough treatment. Then he chirped a few sentences.
"Oh Klev! You shouldn't have done it," she protested in English.
"What is it?" Nick wanted to know.
"The Council voted to attack Central Camp, using their _voras_ as
weapons. Klev tried to warn them it would be suicide, and he and Merlo
fought. Merlo is much younger, and although he has the Plague he's
still strong. Then he accused Klev of treachery because he was friendly
to us, and had him exiled to the surface too."
The injured, beaten Martian touched Sue's hand and chirped a few words
as though in apology.
"When will they attack?" Nick asked.
"Nineteen days from now," Susan translated the Martian's answer.
"How?"
"They'll come up through the tunnels into the old city, spread out, and
attack the camp at night."
Nick looked thoughtful.
"What difference does it make?" Susan asked. "They'll all be killed on
the charged barrier, if the proton cannon let them get that far. They
can't win."
"Maybe," was all Nick could reply.
The heat grew unbearable, and several times during the long morning
they were forced to change position to remain in the shade. They
moved as little as possible, saving their energy and conserving their
precious body water by avoiding any exertion that would bring on
sweating.
Only Klev remained in the sun, his alien body gratefully soaking up
the harsh rays. Occasionally he moved, each motion bringing a half
suppressed mew of pain to his lips.
"How bad?" Nick asked.
Susan shook her head.
"He says he will be all right, but that swelling Merlo's _varlu_ made
near his eye looks serious. His leg is badly hurt, and he's terribly
old, Nick."
By midafternoon their faces were flushed and dry, and the powder-fine
sand itched intolerably where it had sifted into their clothing. Susan
napped, but stirred restlessly and muttered of water.
"Sue," Nick asked when she opened her eyes. "Is Klev in shape to talk
sense?"
The Martian saw his glance and chirped affirmatively, then clamped his
thin lips to smother an exclamation of anguish.
"Ask him if the passage through which they brought us up connects with
any of the water caverns you mentioned."
She looked at him inquiringly.
"Might as well be killed by the Martians as die of thirst. Ask him."
Sue talked to the Martian, who nodded and began to trace a complicated
diagram in the sand with one finger, hesitating before adding each line
as though resurrecting old and almost forgotten memories.
* * * * *
Nick watched a while. Then a patrol rocket whistled over heading south,
and after it had passed he climbed once more to the rim of the bowl. He
watched it settle inside the barrier with a flare of braking jets and a
cloud of red dust. And while he watched he thought.
To go below for water was absolutely necessary, but a purely defensive
action which could at best only postpone the end. And nothing had ever
been won by defensive action alone. Pure defense always meant eventual
defeat.
He thought some more, then scrambled hurriedly down the rocks just as
Klev completed the diagram.
"Sue," he panted, still out of breath. "Those creatures bred to tunnel
and pump water. Are they still alive? Is there any way to make them
work? Ask him!"
Sue hesitated, not understanding.
"Can they pump water up as well as down? Ask him!" Nick barked
impatiently.
Suspicion showed in the Martian's manner as Sue made the request.
"He won't answer until he knows what you're planning," she reported.
"If the Exploiters found water they'd never leave."
"One of us has to get back to Earth." Nick tried to be as patient as
possible. "After everything that happened during the War years you
can be damned sure the New Governments would handle Harmon fast and
tough--if they knew what he is doing and planning. We need a ship, but
when the next supply ship comes out eight weeks from now it will be too
late. We've got to get a ship out _ahead of schedule_, and only one
thing will do it. Water!"
"But how can you get--?"
"I'm not sure, yet," he admitted. "But it's worth a chance. Now ask him
again."
The Martian looked doubtful. For a moment his hand hovered over the
chart in the sand as though to erase it.
"Give him time," Susan advised.
"It's a gamble," Nick admitted. "But the _voras_--"
"Live almost forever," she responded. "Whether we could make them work
for us--"
The sun was almost down before Klev decided, but then he chirped and
clicked for a good three hours. The water caves could be reached, he
said, but some of the _vora_ burrows through which they must crawl were
so small it would be impossible to carry him, and his own strength was
insufficient. And the distance from the water caves to the surface was
too great for him to reach the water-_voras_ by thought alone, the
usual method.
"You made the screen-_vora_ work," Nick reminded Susan.