NINE

"Janice!"

Loring spoke her name in a choked whisper, as if an instrument of

torture had been applied without warning to his flesh and was slowly

crushing every bone in his body. He whispered her name twice, and

then his voice broke and he could only stare, gripped by a fear so

tormenting that it completely shattered all of his defenses.

He was unable to move or think clearly. If the aliens had chosen that

moment of shock to attack nothing could have saved him, for he was

incapable of resistance. But they did not attack. It was almost as

though they themselves had been caught off guard, checkmated by the

very violence of his emotions. Perhaps they had not known that a man

in love may lose all concern for his own safety and redouble it in

another direction, transfer it to someone whose life is infinitely more

precious to him. Perhaps that total forgetfulness of self was so alien

to their thinking that they were unable to make instant and effective

use of it as a weapon.

Janice's voice broke the stillness, calling out to him in a frightened

appeal. "David! David! Where are you? I was too worried about you to

wait any longer. When you didn't come back--"

She swayed a little and moved a few steps closer to him, as if groping

for something tangible to guide her in the darkness. Then he was at

her side, stilling her trembling with the firmness of his embrace,

murmuring reassurances.

"What I just said was a lie, David," Janice whispered, holding on to

him as if she would never let him go. "Your mind was made up, so I had

to pretend I wasn't going to follow you. Now there's nothing you can do

about it, is there, darling?"

"No, nothing," Loring said, smoothing her hair, wishing it weren't true

but not wanting to alarm her more than he had to.

"You're glad I'm here--glad I did come?"

"Very glad," Loring said, the lie making him tormentingly aware of how

difficult it would be to tell her the truth. But she had to know.

The insect might attack at any moment. It was still close to him in

the darkness, close to Janice now as well and when he strained his

ears he could still hear the faint whirring of its wings. He was aware

of its chilling odor too: acrid, and laden with a slight effluvium

of mustiness and decay, as if it had just emerged from some airless,

long-abandoned sepulchre deep underground.

He tried to keep his voice level when he described it to her, holding

nothing back, making no attempt to minimize the danger and asking her

to listen herself to the faint whirring of the creature's wings.

She began to tremble again, slightly at first and then more violently,

so that he had to tighten his grip on her shoulder and draw her firmly

back against the wall.

"Something seems to be keeping it from attacking," he whispered.

"Perhaps it won't attack at all if we keep very still and think about

getting out."

"Think about it?" Her voice was so faint he had to strain to catch the

words. "The entrance is right in front of us. Why can't we make a dash

for it?"

"We may have to. It may be a risk we'll have to take. But if we can

save ourselves in some other way--"

"What do you mean? Why should we even try? If we head straight for

the entrance we'll be outside in two or three seconds. Can that--that

insect thing move fast enough to intercept us if we know that our lives

are at stake?"

"I think it can. If they release it, I think it can. They may expect us

to try to get out that way. Remember, an insect can move with lightning

swiftness."

"But there's only one entrance. We can't hope to escape in any other

way?"

Loring did a strange thing. He leaned back against the wall, pressed

himself more firmly against it, and ran his fingers exploringly over

its smooth metal surface.

Then he tightened his grip on Janice's arm and moved slowly along the

wall, continuing to explore the surface with his free hand as he drew

her with him through the darkness.

Before he had progressed more than four yards his fingers encountered

a slight roughness. The roughness increased as he advanced, became a

series of firmly projecting ridges. He stopped advancing, his breathing

slightly quickened, and tugged experimentally at one of the ridges.

Nothing happened for an instant. Then he felt the wall move slightly

under his hand. He tugged more vigorously, increasing the tightness

of his grip. A section of the wall began to swing open. He wedged

one shoulder solidly against it, and exerted a steady, unrelenting

pressure, to counterbalance the tugging and keep the movement

stabilized.

There was a sudden change in the darkness. It became less impenetrable

and by straining his eyes he could make out the shadowy outlines of a

flight of steps leading downward. A blast of cold air swept upwards

through the aperture, causing Janice to cry out in surprise and press

closer to him. She spoke with a stunned breathlessness.

"David, how did you know?"

"I think--they wanted us to know."

"But why, David? I don't understand."

"I had a sudden impulse to look for another way out. It was as if

the thought had been implanted in my mind, as if I was being guided.

Something started me searching the instant you said there was only one

way to escape, through the doorway. They may have feared I'd decide not

to make a dash for it. And I think they want us to go on, to at least

try to escape. I don't know why. I can't explain it."

He reached out for her hand, clasped it firmly. "We're going down those

stairs. Even if it's what they want us to do we're going to take the

risk. To stay here would be too dangerous. The slightest display of

weakness or indecision could offset any advantage we might gain by

staying. With you here, sharing the danger, I couldn't withstand the

pressure. I'd be sure to crack."

She was in his arms suddenly, embracing him with a passion so

maddeningly feminine in its soft, clinging sweetness that he forgot for

an instant that it must have been inspired by terror and desperation,

and a mad desire to wed her body to his for the comfort he could bring

her.

"David," she whispered. Her hand was exploring him with tender concern.

"I want you--now. I must."

"But, darling--"

"That's why, darling," she whispered, "I love you. I want your seed to

grow inside me before one of those monsters rapes me. And David, if

anything happens to you, I want someone to remember you by. It's our

duty David. We must survive."

He was roused. He touched her, and he knew she was ready for him. "It

seems crazy, Janice," he protested, "but your reasons are sound. As you

say, darling."

Her lips burned on his. Her lovely breasts pressed against his torso.

Her small round stomach quivered against his.

"They might see," he warned. "They're watching us."

"I don't care!" Janice cried fiercely. "Let them see how decent human

beings behave." She moved against him. "I'll conceive, David, I know.

I'm ovulating. It's one of the unsafe days. Remember how careful we

used to be." Her voice was almost gay. "Now we can be utterly careless.

With your child in me, David, I won't be scared of anything. Come on,

darling."

She took him then. The bliss of their union banished his fears. The

warmth of her pulsating body, the rapture of her lips, the quivering of

her loins, brought them together in complete harmony. The moment that

is eternity for lovers came to both simultaneously.

"Hold me tight just for a little while," Janice pleaded afterwards.

"Don't move!" She locked her arms round his waist.

Their bodies still joined, she leaned away from him, hanging her head

back exposing the loveliness of her throat. Loring kissed it, because

it seemed the natural thing to do. It was an impulsive gesture.

He was startled to feel her tighten against him, as if she were

suddenly roused again. Slowly, with a beatific smile on her face, she

raised herself, and looked up at him. Love stars were shining in her

eyes.

"David," she said seriously, "That was the rightest, purest thing we

have ever done. Now we both have something to live for. I am not afraid

any more."

He released her wordlessly, tightened his grip on her hand and together

they started downward. The stairway was in darkness at first, but it

began to glow as they descended.

They moved hand-in-hand, aware that the stairway was even longer than

the one they had previously descended; both longer and set at a more

precipitous angle. Vast distances fell away beneath them, and Loring

knew that they were descending into the heart of the city.

"Don't look down," Loring warned, slowing his steps. The steepness

was one source of danger, but there were others which he feared more:

the dazzling brightness of the radiance which now enveloped them or a

sudden seizure of dizziness.

"Listen!" Janice whispered, halting abruptly and turning to face him

with a swift intake of her breath.

"What is it? We can't--"

"Listen, David. Don't you hear it? A whirring sound, right up above us.

Not too near, but--David, I'm frightened. That thing must be following

us!"

He had to stand very still and strain his ears for an instant before

he caught it. It was unmistakable, but so faint that, under calmer

circumstances, he would have been amazed by the acuteness of Janice's

hearing. But now there was no room in his mind for amazement. Only

horror.

"All right," he said. "It's following us. We might have known that it

would. I sensed its rapacity the instant I saw it, and if they kept it

from attacking us they must have had a reason."

"What reason, David? Don't try to spare me, if you think you know."

"I don't know for sure. How could I? But I can make a guess that has

some ugly implications. It could be a kind of insectlike--"

He hesitated, fighting for control, reproaching himself for his

harshness. He was making no attempt to soften the blow and he knew why.

He had spoken with a slight edge of angry impatience in his voice

because he did not want her to know how profoundly the thought had

unnerved him.

It was more than chilling, for there was something diabolically

calculated, wholly vicious, about the use of such a horror as a weapon.

A relentlessly pursued man--an escaped prisoner floundering in

desperation through a swamp or trapped in a mountain gully--can

experience many dreads. But only one that claws at his mind like a

sharp-taloned, utterly merciless harpy.

The appeal in Janice's eyes put a quick end to his hesitation. "What

could it be, David? Tell me."

"A kind of insectlike bloodhound. A scent-tracking animal can

demoralize a fleeing man in a very terrible way, and I'm sure they know

it. I think they deliberately kept it from attacking to give us time to

escape from the building. Then they let it pick up our scent. They may

be planning to prolong the pursuit until we abandon all hope and just

wait helplessly for the worst to happen."

He gave her no time to reply. Tightening his grip on her hand he pulled

her forward, his voice urgent, rising a little as the distance beneath

them dwindled and they could see the shining expanse of metal at the

base of the stairway.

"I didn't tell you that to frighten you. But we've got to build up

our mental defenses fast. You've got to try not to think of it as a

bloodhound. Our instinctive fear of insects isn't as great as our fear

of savage, wolflike animals. Bloodhounds aren't wolflike, but to a

pursued man there are no beasts more sinister. We must keep thinking of

it as an insect."

"Are you sure that will help, David? An insect so large--"

"On Earth all insects are small. It's natural for us to think of them

as small. Remember, man's fear of insects is real enough. But it can

be overcome, thrown off. All small, crawling things make us recoil in

revulsion. But the bloodhound image strikes a deadlier chord of fear.

We've got to shut our minds to it."

* * * * *

"Then why didn't you keep silent about it? If you hadn't told me, if I

hadn't known at all--"

"You had to know. You can't fight the Unknown, can't use the right

mental weapons unless you know exactly what it is you've got to

overcome. Full knowledge first, and then a choice of weapons. We're

choosing a weapon that will clamp a mental block on that knowledge

where it has sharp points of deadliness. We'll keep it limited, but we

won't forget the danger. The weapon we're choosing is--a controlled

self-hypnosis."

Janice flushed and flashed a quick glance at him. She was still

trembling, breathless with hurrying, but the strain in her eyes had

diminished a little. "Darling, I--I'm sorry. I pleaded with you to tell

me. I guess I was being stupidly unthinking and irrational."

"I only told you because I thought it would cut down the danger. You've

got to do your best to substitute another, less destructive fear.

You're in a garden and a spider is moving slowly toward you across a

gleaming web. But even if it's a black widow spider you don't succumb

to panic. You know that you have time to leap up and run swiftly out

of the garden."

"But I could also reach out and crush the spider between my thumb and

forefinger. Or stamp on it. Shake it from the web, and mash it into a

pulp. But we're not in a garden on Earth, David. We're trapped on an

alien world, with not even a garden wall to protect us. How can we hope

to outdistance an insect larger than we are? You said yourself that

insects can move with lightning speed."

"Not this particular insect, perhaps. In the building it seemed to move

slowly, with a shuffling sound. I was afraid it could move swiftly and

that made me hesitate to make a dash for the entrance. But now we can't

afford to let such a possibility demoralize us. We've got to seize on

the doubt and build it up in our minds. Build it up, do you understand?

_Make ourselves believe it._"

"But the creature is winged! David, I thought--"

"Don't think. Just make yourself believe. Not all winged insects can

fly. The wings may be vestigial. You've got to believe that it's

slow moving and blot its size from your mind. We instinctively think

of insects as small, visualize them as small. Hold fast to that

visualization. You can if you try."

"You mean deliberately distort the truth, cling to an illusion which we

know, deep in our minds, can't possibly be true?"

"Only in regard to its size. It may well be slow-moving. That margin

of doubt gives us an advantage we'd be foolish to abandon. If we can

control our fear in the right way we won't succumb to panic."

"The right way? Just what is the right way, David? How do you want me

to feel?"

"As if you were being pursued by an insect on Earth. A dangerous

insect, but small. We've got to stay alert to the danger without

succumbing to a paralyzing fear. Just remember that it's not a baying,

savage dog."

"All right, David. I'll try."

"Just will yourself to believe that we can save ourselves if we move

fast enough. There's a very good chance that we can. We're in no more

danger than we'd be if we were well ahead of a swarm of foraging army

ants in the African jungle. We could outrun the ants easily enough by

keeping our heads and keeping to the trail."

"You think they're trying to break down our resistance by making a

deliberate attack on our minds. Is that it?"

"That's about it. We can't afford to lower our defenses for an instant.

Our lives may depend on it."

"All right, darling. No doubts. It helps just to know we're together."

"We're close to the bottom now. Just twenty or thirty steps to go. But

the glare's getting worse. We've got to be careful. They may be hoping

we'll stumble."

"We won't, David. I'm watching every step."

"The steps are tricky. Stay careful and keep close to me. There are

buildings straight ahead. Three or four, about two hundred feet from

the bottom. I can just barely make them out."

"I can see them," Janice said quickly. "Just the roofs. They look

more like shining disks hovering in the air. Are you sure they're

buildings?"

"They're buildings, all right. The nearest one stands out when the

brightness shifts a little."

"Yes ... I can see it now. Quite plainly. Three buildings."

When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Loring paused for an

instant to make a quick survey of the shining metal pavement directly

ahead of them, and the nearest of the three buildings. The pavement

was similar to the slightly mushrooming surface on the level above,

widening out as it swept toward the buildings.

The brightness ahead was so dazzling that it was difficult to make out

the massive foundations of the nearest glow-enveloped structure, but

by straining his eyes he could tell that it was a far larger structure

than the one from which they had escaped.

He did not regret having taken the gamble. It was better to be free and

pursued than imprisoned with a gigantic insect in total darkness. The

memory made his flesh crawl. It had never completely stopped crawling,

but even a limited freedom of movement, a freedom that could end at any

moment, was better than the feeling that you were hideously trapped and

had no chance of keeping terror at arm's length. There was no chance at

all if you waited in blind panic with the deadliness drawing closer,

relentlessly closing in.

Any action was better than the paralysis of inertia, the helplessness

which panic could bring about. Any action. He must keep remembering

that. Must force himself to remember, keep all of his thoughts centered

on the one aspect of the struggle that was vital when survival became

the sole prize to be won, the only issue immediately at stake.

He looked at Janice and nodded, sensing the need for continued haste.

They headed straight for the nearest building, with no exchange of

words now, for they were both too sharply aware of the danger to

experience a need to talk further about it or even to pause for breath.