"Manacles!" repeated Rocky Russell, "Manacles twenty feet in
circumference! But that--that's impossible! Handcuffs for a normal
six-foot man measure about six _inches_ in circumference. Twenty foot
manacles would be used on someone _two hundred and forty feet tall_!"
"Always assuming of course," Lynn pointed out, "that these gyves are to
be used on a _man_. Which isn't very likely. Much more possible that
they were constructed for some beast ... some tremendous animal--"
"True," admitted Rocky. "But even so--imagine the size of that animal!
Well, that settles it. Bud, I want you to take Miss Graham back to the
fort immediately."
"And you?"
"I'm going to follow that roller."
"But there may be danger--"
"There undoubtedly _is_ danger," replied Rocky grimly, "directed at
the Patrol ... perhaps the whole of Titan. Those manacles are somehow
associated with Grossman's secret. I've got to learn how. You can help
best by racing back to Beausejour and warning Colonel Graham to be on
guard against any eventuality. Keep your portable vocoder tuned to our
private wave-length. If and when I learn anything important I'll send
it on to you. O.Q.?"
Bud shrugged helplessly.
"You're the boss. But I'd rather stay here with you and--"
"Get going! Oh--when you reach the Base, take off the lid. Tell Colonel
Graham who we are."
"And if it's not too much trouble," interrupted Lynn Graham, "would you
mind telling me _now_?"
Rocky grinned at her, for the last time using Dr. Roswell's high whine,
"Oh, mercy, Miss Graham, you mustn't be impatient. Ambrose will tell
you as you ride."
"_Ambrose!_" fumed Bud. "Ambrose be damned--!" But he was talking to
empty space. Rocky had already disappeared down the avenue after the
gyve-laden roller.
Fortunately the roller, groaning under its ponderous burden, was not
moving very fast. Rocky, though on foot, was able to keep it within
sight without too obviously appearing to be following it. In the
character of Dr. Rockingham Roswell, already known and amusing to the
Titanians, he dawdled through the city five hundred yards or so in the
wake of the burdened vehicle.
Through business streets he followed it, where eyes turned to follow
its passage and furtive Titanians whispered to each other behind
concealing palms, and--as the squalid little shops thinned out--into
the suburban residential districts ... finally quite out of the city
proper.
Out here it was practically impossible to follow the truck without
being noticed. Once the city's artificial foliage was left behind, the
landscape of Titan's countryside stretched stark and severe so far
as the eye could see ... its drab, sandy monotony broken only by an
occasional dune, its dull sameness embellished only by the silvery span
of roadbed upon which humans must travel to live on Titan.
By dropping far behind the roller, Rocky was able to keep it in sight
for a little while longer. But then his efforts came suddenly to
naught as the driver of the truck--a Titanian--swerved completely off
the lead highway and began rolling across the barren desert toward a
hummock outlined on the horizon some miles distant.
* * * * *
Lacking a bulger, Rocky was stopped cold. No way to follow, now. But he
waited and watched a while longer to assure himself that the swollen
rise of ground _was_ the roller's destination, then strolled back into
New Boston.
Here he sought the privacy of a 'fresher, and called Bud on the
vocoder. Mulligan answered immediately.
"Yeah, Rocky? Everything all right?"
"Everything's all _wrong_! The confounded roller left the highway and
plowed across the gray-and-nasty. Having no desire to be cooked into
frizzled beef, I gave up the chase."
"That's tough, Chief. What do we do now?"
"I," said Rocky, "stay right here. You load a couple of bulgers in a
roller and come charging back here as fast as you can. I _still_ want
to find out what Grossman's hiding in those hills that needs to be tied
up with twenty-foot bands of forged steel."
"O.Q." said Bud. "Sit tight. I'll pick you up in three shakes."
"Make it two!"
"One," chuckled Bud. "I'm practically on my way now."
He was as good as his word. Rocky had only finished one cigarette when
a blue S.S.P. roller came tearing up the highway from Fort Beausejour.
Bud jumped out, bulger-clad and carrying a second protective suit for
his comrade.
"Here you are, pal. Where do we go from here?"
"Out of town on the east highway. I'll show you. A hill rising out
of--Hey, wait a minute! Who's driving this crate?"
Bud looked embarrassed.
"Oh--she is!"
"She?"
"Miss Graham. She--"
"--refused," chimed in Lynn Graham, "to be left out of it. Indeed I
did. Captain Russell, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, deceiving
us the way you did. When the Sergeant, here, told me who you _really_
were, and what you were doing here, I almost _died_ with excitement!
And to think that you, a Captain in the S.I.D., pretended to be a
mythologist! It's the funniest thing--"
"Miss Graham," interrupted Rocky impatiently, "there is nothing at all
amusing about the job we are engaged in. It is, moreover, no work in
which a girl should be involved. You would oblige me by returning to
the Fort on the first transport bus--"
"Oh, no! This is a Patrol roller, and I requisitioned it in my own
name. Either I drive it or--" Stubbornly--"or it doesn't roll!"
"Very well, then. You may take us as far as the desert path. But there
we leave you. And now, let's get going. We have wasted enough time as
it is."
Rocky motioned Bud into the roller. A few seconds later they were
speeding noiselessly out on the highway toward the spot where Rocky had
seen the truck leave the road.
* * * * *
Russell had been keeping an eye on his chronometer for the past little
while, estimating the number of daylight minutes left to him. On this
little satellite there was no such thing as dusk or twilight. At ninety
million miles from Sol, there was little enough sunlight. Titan's main
radiance came not from the Sun, but from its own parent planet which, a
huge, shining platter in the sky, gathered up and reflected to its tiny
satellite the thin illumination from afar ... for all the world like a
gigantic, reflecting mirror.
Titan revolved on its axis in fifteen hours, twenty-three minutes.
Almost the whole of its day period had elapsed now. Shortly....
Yes, even as he studied out the problem, night came suddenly and
completely to this part of Titan. It descended instantaneously,
snuffing out the light as a finger presses the wick of a candle. Only
the stars remained, glowing white in the rich, jet vastness of outer
space.
The girl reached toward the dashboard instinctively, but Rocky's hand
clasped about her wrist.
"No! Don't!"
"But--but I was only going to turn on the lights."
"I know. But you mustn't. We're getting very close to the spot now.
Can you see to drive without them?"
"Why, I--I guess so," said Lynn dubiously. She was surprised, herself,
to learn that she could. "Why, yes! The road stands out like a dark
ribbon against the sands on either side. Isn't that strange?"
"Not so strange at that," grunted Rocky. "I'm beginning to get an idea
about the mysterious T-radiation of this planet. I may be completely
wrong, of course, but so far my theory fits all the facts I've
observed. There's something I would like to know, though. Grossman told
us the soil killed humans. I wonder _how_ they die?"
"I can answer that. Daddy told me the first day I was here. He was
warning me against ever leaving the shielded areas ... the Fort, the
city, the roads. He said that if they wander onto the soil of Titan
without protection, humans just shrivel up and crumble into dust
like--like mummies!"
"Like mummies, eh!" grunted Rocky. He sounded quite well satisfied.
"Mmm-hmm! Then _that_ fits, too. Yes, I think I'm beginning to
understand a lot of things ... including the reason Factor Grossman
would like to rid this little world of all competitors--"
"Well, don't keep secrets!" snapped Bud. "We'd like to know, too.
What's it all about?"
"No time now. There's the hill out yonder. Pull up here, Miss Lynn.
Here's where we leave you."
Lynn stopped the roller obediently. But as Bud and Rocky climbed out
she asked, "What do you want me to do now? Can't I come with you?"
"No. You turn the roller around and wait here. We have no idea what
we're going to buck up against. We may have to retreat--suddenly. If
so, I'll fire three blasts on my Haemholtz. Two short, one long. If
you see that signal, get ready to start moving. We'll come on the
double-quick. But if we're being pursued too closely to make it--"
"Yes?"
"Then don't wait for us!" ordered Rocky.
"Head for the Base and bring the Patrolmen. Understand?"
"All but one thing," complained the girl. "Why not send for a platoon
of Patrolmen right now? Why wait until it is too late?"
"Because," explained Rocky patiently, "despite our suspicions, we have
as yet no actual _proof_ that the factor is involved in anything shady.
The Patrol is an organization sworn to maintain the Law, not to violate
it, riding roughshod over the rights and privileges of citizens.
"When we are certain--as I fully expect we shall be shortly--that
Grossman is implicated in some illegal scheme _then_ we can call in the
Patrol. But until that time--"
"Until that time," broke in an oily, taunting voice, "you will play the
part of quixotic fools, eh, my dear Doctor? But has it never occurred
to you that by the time you get the proof you want ... it may be too
late to summon help?"
Rocky whirled, as did his two companions. From the side of the road,
where they had lain in dark concealment behind a low escarpment, rose
a circle of shadowy figures. The largest of these, a heavy man looming
even greater in his protective bulger, approached them. In his left
hand he held a flash; its rays glinted upon still another instrument in
his right hand ... the tube of a Haemholtz burner held steadily upon
them. All recognized the newcomer's voice at once.
"_Grossman!_"