"Starstone Chamber. The Council has been called to vote on what
dispensation to make of both of you. Atel--hold his other arm. If the
beasts wear down our shield we will all be thrown on our heads again."
The Earthman allowed the Varans to take his elbows without any protest.
He had a very vivid picture of himself buttered crimsonly over the
inner surface of the rock arching above. _Save the heroics for later_,
he thought.
He had imagined a Council meeting as a huge affair, with all the banked
chairs filled; but actually there were only about twenty of the Varese
present, plus the lone, mysterious Earthman. Andreson scanned the
stranger's features eagerly as they approached.
"Well, I'll be damned!" he shouted. "What are you doing here?"
"Hello, Ken," Kimball said calmly. "I hardly know myself. Read my
letter yet?"
"No. Say--are _you_ responsible for that Surrealist trickery back in
our own time? I should have guessed it. I ought to push your face in."
"I wouldn't blame you," the scientist agreed. "But I never dreamed
you'd hit upon it by accident, before you'd read my note explaining
what it was. In the letter I made a date to meet you there, and I
arrived a little early. I went out to pick up some supplies, and while
I was gone--well--"
"I'll have to let you off this time. You already look a bit damaged,
Johnny."
* * * * *
Damaged was hardly the word. Kimball looked as if he had been caught
in a cement mixer. His clothes were filthy and cut to ribbons; bloody
knees showed through holes in his trousers, he had a long, raw cut
across his forehead, and his voice was husky with weariness.
The Varans had listened to the conversation with polite impatience,
mixed with suspicion. The Councilman who wore the gem on his
forehead, a replica of the giant diamond above them, broke in with an
authoritative gesture, waving the group to seats.
"Mr. Kimball has offered us certain explanations," he said. "They
seem adequate; it appears that he is the agency of Mr. Andreson's
misfortune. But we are losing one battle, and can't afford to take on
another. Our major question must be--How can we believe you?"
"One problem at a time," Kimball said. "About your present battle.
I've watched your whole history, and I know you're doomed to lose
it. This city will be deserted in another century. But it will be an
orderly retreat, and will result in the complete extermination of the
space-beasts."
Atel's mouth drew down at the corners. "Obviously a fabrication. If we
wiped out the beasts, why should we leave?"
"Because you'll wipe them out with matter-bombs, set to fall into their
universe in their state, and then explode into yours. The process
will cause violent earthquakes on Earth's surface--it'll change the
whole climate of the planet, wipe out the giant reptiles, start the
tiny mammals on their long upward climb toward the species Ken and I
represent. Your civilization wouldn't survive such an upheaval. By the
time things have quieted down, you'll be more comfortable on Venus."
There was a small stir of surprise among the Varans. "We already have
a small colony on Venus," the Council head admitted in a somewhat
friendly voice. "But as things stand now, I cannot see how we can hold
them off for the rest of a century!"
"I can help you there. You work on sun-power, right?"
"Yes. The mining of atomic fuels on this savage planet would not be
fruitful. But that rock dome over our heads has cut us off, and our
stored power will give out shortly. We've already had to cut down on
the city's lighting, and we're trying to drill the dome."
"You'll never drill that dome in a thousand years. It's maintained by
atomics--it might just as well be pure neutronium for all the dent
you'll make in it. I can show you how to build a time-coil. We'll just
open a window onto Tomorrow Noon and let the sunlight stream in on your
main converter. It's really quite simple once you know the principle."
"By the Jewel! Have you repealed the law of the conservation of energy?"
"Not at all. Just doesn't apply. Energy taken from one Time doesn't
alter the total available in the continuum. Here, I'll show you." He
pulled out a pencil. "Got any paper? No? Ken, do you still have that
letter on you?"
"Here you are," said Andreson, handing it over. "I'm glad it's going to
be good for _something_, anyhow."
* * * * *
The besieged city was dark, except for a few furtive gleams far below.
On the solarium platform they could see little but the dim shapes of
the nearby pinnacles, and the tiny rivers of light quivering on the
glassy flanks. Above, the stone cap pressed down heavily. Despite
Kimball's time-window into Tomorrow Noon, the confined air was hot,
motionless, enervating.
"It's a bad age, Jina," Andreson said. "Full of warfare and misery. I
don't think you'd like it."
Jina stirred protestingly beside him. "You paint it in very dark
colors, Ken. We have our own war here, and the jungle, the storms, the
great reptiles...."
She broke off as a dark figure swooped silently from the depths, passed
them, and began to rise more slowly toward the dome. A tiny glow at its
head made a red trail in the dimness, and it did not seem to have any
wings.
"That must be your friend," the girl murmured, pointing. "See--he has
one of those things called cigarettes, that he smokes all the time."
"Yes," said Andreson, not much interested. Since Kimball had arrived,
he had been the center of interest among most of the Varans, and
Andreson had been allowed to shift for himself. It had taken some
persuasion on Johnny's part to get Andreson a copy of the anti-gravity
"wings" with which they had equipped the Earth physicist. For a while
the neglect had nettled Andreson, and at the moment he definitely did
not want to talk to Kimball. Jina interested him a good deal more.
But Jina was still dreaming of her picture of Earth, as it would be
millions of years hence. Before Andreson could protest, she leapt into
the air and soared after the trailing cigarette glow. He watched,
grousing, while the little red spark halted in mid-air and did a
short minuet. Finally he stood up, picked up the heavy torpedo of his
own levitator, clipped the control box to his belt, climbed into the
parachute-harness. A touch of his finger sent him skyward.
"Hello, Ken," Kimball said cheerfully.
"Hello."
"I was just on my way to test the apex of the dome. Seems like we might
make a break-through there."
"Soon, I hope."
Kimball dropped his cigarette and watched it fall regretfully toward
the distant, almost invisible city. "Not many of those left--I'll
be glad to get out of here myself." He lit another. In the brief
match-flare, Jina's graceful, wheeling figure became visible like some
angelic dream. "Why don't you go back now, Ken? I've already built
a gate back to our own time. The Varese don't use much radioactive
material, so I had to go back for supplies. You could go through just
as simply."
"Yes," said Jina's voice from the blackness. "Why not, Ken?"
"This guy Atel seems to be after your pelt, and you're no match for
him in his own environment," Johnny Kimball added. "It isn't as if the
Varese needed you. I know the technical aspects of the situation, and I
can hold my end up. But you could leave any time."
"Why are you staying?"
"Two reasons. First, I'm not inhuman, and I got handled roughly by
the beasts. I'd like to see them smashed. Second, I can't market my
time-coil--you can imagine what chaos it'd cause in our world!--but
the Varese have promised me this anti-gravity-pack, and that's worth
a lot." He waited for an answer, but Andreson didn't see any sense in
making one. After a moment his friend sighed. "Well, got to get aloft."
The glowing cigarette arced upwards dimming gradually.
Wings pulsed softly past Andreson's cheek. "Why _are_ you staying?"
Jina whispered.
He tried to answer, but the moment's hesitation was fatal. The girl
arrowed downward, a slim, lovely shadow in the artificial dusk. Her
sweet, chiming voice drifted back tauntingly.
"Explain to the beasts!"
For a moment Andreson hung motionless in his harness, keenly aware that
he was perhaps the loneliest man since Adam. The city looked like a
tinsel toy below him, and all around him was darkness and silence; the
nearest human being was the only one within millenia of him, and among
the Varese he had just one friend--_maybe_.
Out of the murk a voice called mockingly. "What are you dreaming,
Earthman? Or should we say--plotting?"
Andreson recognized the voice for Atel's, but could not place its
direction. "I'm on my way to join my friend at the apex of the dome,"
he said shortly. "I'm not plotting anything, except getting home as
soon as possible."
"Oh? That's odd." The Varan's voice roughened, then regained its first
silkiness with obvious effort. "I passed Jina on the way up. I thought
you two might have been having a talk."
"Suppose we were?" Andreson demanded. "What's that to you?"
The voice was closer now, and its tone was cold and hard. Andreson
rested his fingers lightly on the levitator controls, still looking
about him in the blackness.
"A great deal to me. When the Council voted to let your scientist
accomplice have a free hand, I had to go along. But I still think
you're both spies, and up to something dangerous." He paused, and at
the same moment Andreson spotted him--circling with silent, outspread
wings, about twenty-five feet up from where the Earthman hung. He went
right on looking, as if he had seen nothing, turning his head from side
to side in apparent bewilderment.
"Follow us around, then, if you have the time to waste," he said. "Two
men against a city--you can afford to be brave. The odds are all on
your side."
"You ground-grubber," the Varan gritted. "Follow you around--while you
corrupt a Varan girl with your lies about the future, and plot to let
the beasts in! Do you think I'm such a fool? The Council is blind with
sitting so long under the Starstone--but there are still a few of us
who can see!"
"What with?" Andreson taunted. "You seem to be all mouth."
With a low snarl of rage, Atel plunged. His powerful wings furled
tightly around his body, he dropped straight for the Earthman. In
the dim light, Andreson saw his massive right arm reach back to his
belt--he was drawing his vacuum club--
* * * * *
Andreson jammed the button home and shot skyward. Inexperience told
against him almost at once, for he had drawn the line too fine. His
shoulder slammed hard against Atel's, and the bat-winged creature
tumbled away from him.
The harness continued to haul Andreson blindly upwards. His collar-bone
sent out sharp pains with every movement. It seemed to be broken, or
cracked at least. Was Atel--no--there he was, wings thrashing the air
as he arrested his fall. The Earthman poked the belt-control again,
hovered over his fluttering opponent--two could play at this power-dive
game--
Feet first, he arrowed downward, the hot air roaring in his ears.
Somehow Atel saw him coming, furled his wings again--
For what seemed an eternity the two fell, the city swelling beneath
them from a hazy splotch to a bright quilt, and from that to a glowing
cloudy mass. A jabbing finger reversed Andreson's belt, and slowly he
began to gain. In the growing light he could see Atel's face, turned up
toward him, smiling sardonically.
Then the bat-wings boomed out and Atel was gone, sailing easily around
the nearest tower. Andreson saw the thin, transparent thread of a
bridge almost upon him, and tried to brake, but it was too late--if he
stopped at this speed he'd black out--
The bridge burst under his plummeting feet with the sound of a
waterfall of plate glass, and something snapped in his left foot,
sending fresh waves of pain through his body. The harness cut into him,
yanking against his momentum, and he tried to pull out. At the bottom
of his immense plunge he could clearly see figures in the once-distant
streets. Then he began to rise again--
Instantly sharp-ribbed wings battered at him, an open hand struck him
a terrific blow behind the ear, and a second later something long and
steel-hard thudded into his ribs. He was flung forcibly against the
side of the nearby building. Only the mechanical obedience of the
levitator saved him--it had been set for "up," and it dragged him on
up, willy-nilly. A hot liquid oozed down his side from the blow of
the vacuum-rod. In a fog of pain he saw Atel banking purposefully for
another assault, and clutched at the "Up" control again.
[Illustration: _Wings battered him, and Atel's club thudded against his
ribs._]
The levitator could climb faster than the Varan could, and Andreson had
a moment's respite. Grimly he kept on going, until a growing sense of
pressure and heat warned him that the rock dome was near. Should he try
to lose himself among the city towers, or yell to Johnny Kimball for
help?
His whole heart turned from the thought. His earthly life had not
kept him in very good physical shape, but he'd always fought his own
battles. It made no difference that his life was the stake of this one.
_I'll get him yet_, he thought intensely. _Get him without help--if it
kills me._
"Well, Earthman," Atel's voice rang out below. The rock dome sent back
a huge echo. "Running already? If Jina could see her hero now!"
For a moment Andreson was about to dive furiously after the Varan
again, but he thought better of it. He remembered Johnny's words:
"You're no match for him in his own environment." But--
Atel was not fighting another winged man. He was fighting an Earthman
with a levitator. That scrap between the buildings--had Atel given
such a buffeting to a Varan he would have knocked him and that would
have been the end of it. But the levitator couldn't be knocked out, no
matter what happened to the man operating it. It wouldn't fall unless
it was set to fall.
There was something else, too. Birds fly because they're built for
it--among other things they have a huge keel-like breastbone to which
their flying muscles are anchored. But bats don't, and Andreson bet
that the Varans didn't either. Rodents are ancestrally ground-animals,
just like Earthmen, and have to adapt for flying in some other way....
Andreson smiled crookedly. There was only one way to test the idea. He
touched the belt again, and the city began to swell beneath him--
Atel glided cautiously out of the way of his fall, then closed in. The
Earthman shot off laterally, turned, began a tail-chase. For a few
seconds the absurd circling continued, each combatant trying to gain on
the other. Then Atel realized that the levitator could drive Andreson
faster than he could fly, and spun to face him with a single sweep of
his wings.
Andreson made no attempt to stop. He shot directly into the Varan's
arms. The vacuum-rod crashed into his injured side again. Gritting his
teeth, he grasped Atel around the chest, trying for a half-Nelson. The
wings fluttered--the bar thudded home once more--
Then Atel broke free. "Monster!" he gasped.
"What's the matter, Atel?" Andreson shouted raggedly. "Met your match?"
For an answer the Varan shot at him head first, like a gull-winged
rocket. Andreson flung himself lengthwise and grappled once more.
Atel's body, as he had suspected, was remarkably light, probably hollow
boned--and his arms were not nearly as strong as his wings. They simply
couldn't be!
This was the death struggle. Fiercely the two strove against each
other. Andreson locked one of the flailing legs, steadily forced the
great body back. He had one hand free for a split second, and he
grasped the belt-control--
The garish glow of the city began to brighten at an alarming rate.
Atel's hands fastened upon the Earthman's throat; Andreson pried weakly
at them, but he had already lost too much blood to be able to free
himself with one hand. He clung doggedly to the belt-control with the
other. The city grew and grew--the blood pounded in his head, and his
lungs burned like twin sacs of acid--the pillars of cold fire that were
the city's towers flowed past him, blurring rapidly--
At the last instant Atel realized what was happening. A scream of
terror was whipped from his mouth into the slip-stream, and he released
Andreson's throat to claw frantically at the hand on the belt-control--
But it had been too late seconds ago. Andreson let go of him entirely,
kicked himself free, began to brake. The Varan spread his wings--and
lost his life. The right pinion snapped back and broke at once. The
vanes on the left somehow withstood the blast, but the membrane between
them could not--in a split second the living fabric was bloody tatters.
Atel's body slammed itself to jelly against the bright Earth.
Dizzy and sick, Andreson concentrated on cutting down the terrific
velocity the levitator had built up. He succeeded fairly well, though
he broke the other foot when he struck.
The levitator held him upright, swaying. A cloud of winged creatures
gathered around him. One of them he thought he recognized.
"Jina--"
"Yes--Ken--we saw most of the fighting--how--"
"I outflew him," he said proudly, and then passed out for the third
time.
* * * * *
Johnny Kimball peered out the door of the chamber the Varans had
assigned as his laboratory, and grinned. "Quite a formal farewell
committee coming across the bridge," he said. "Looks like the whole
Council's in it."
He looked Andreson over critically. "For a while I was afraid they'd
turn out to be Indian-givers on the levitator deal," he added, "but I
must say you threw yourself into the job of protecting our interests.
Look at you! Both feet bandaged, chest bound, right shoulder strapped
up--if ever a man needed a levitator, you do!"
"Ah, dry up," Andreson growled. "How near through are you?"
"Almost. I'm not trying to hit the gallery, though it might be easier
that way." Suddenly he became serious. "I'll tell you what, Ken. It's a
new life we're going back to--a life where you and I can look back into
the past whenever we want, and visit it, too, if we keep quiet about
it. And it's a new world we're going back to, a world which is going
to be given the levitator. That means free flight--not just flight in
machines, but real flight, where one man can fly whenever, wherever he
wants, without having to board a plane or pay a fare. And space-travel,
and no heavy lifting for the housewife, and--"
"Get to the point."
Kimball looked a bit crestfallen. "I thought you'd understand how I
felt. Well, I couldn't see going back to the old world at the same
spot we left it. I had a new apartment rented when I left, that I'd
never been in--hasn't even got any furniture in it. I want to put the
Time-window through into there. A fresh start."