Death Sentence
So time sped by. And outward, ever toward the fringes of Sol's empire,
flashed the _Liberty_ on her all-important mission. The sun which but
a few short weeks ago had been a blazing furnace threatening fiery
annihilation to the space venturers had now dwindled to the apparent
size of a tiny, glowing pea, half lost in the black depths behind them.
A small, feebly glistening body whose heat at this great distance was
scarce sufficient to make its presence felt.
And as this great luminary shrunk, its offspring grew ever larger in
the _Liberty's_ vision plate. Now the fifth planet was a heaven-filling
orb scant hours away. Already the cruiser had whisked through the orbit
of Jupiter's nine satellites and now, on a course carefully set by Lark
O'Day, Skipper Warren was preparing to drop the _Liberty_ to Jupiter's
surface.
Muldoon, standing beside the space patrolman as he fingered the studs,
said wonderingly, "Boy, that's one big planet, ain't it? Only--" His
brow furrowed--"there's one thing I don't understand. How far away from
it are we?"
"'Bout twenty thousand," answered Warren.
"Well, then, how come it hasn't gripped us yet? I should think a thing
as big as that would have a grav-drag strong enough to clamp hold of us
about three or four times this far away."
Warren chuckled. "Appearances are deceiving, Flick. Don't let the
apparent size of Jupiter fool you."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Simply," explained the pilot, "that the true planet Jupiter is not
much larger than Earth."
"What? But I can see for myself--"
"What you see is Jupiter's tremendous atmosphere belt. For some reason
never satisfactorily explained, Jupiter's gaseous protective envelope
is more than a thousand times deeper than that of any other planet.
That's why Earth's astronomical instruments always show Jupiter's mass
to be so tenuous; with a specific gravity, in fact, less than that of
water. Jupiter is a gigantic cosmic fake; a huge bubble of semi-viscous
atmosphere in the heart of which is embedded only a tiny, normal-sized
core of the more cohesive elements which go to make up a planet."
"Why, the big quack!" said Muldoon indignantly. Then another thought
struck him. "But say, if that's the case it must be colder than Tophet
on that planet? Those miles upon miles of cloudbank should completely
blot out the sun."
O'Day nodded. "And so they do. But on the other hand, they completely
blanket the cold of interstellar space. You'll find Jupiter a
dark, murky planet, but one with a very pleasant and equitable
climate. Well--" He nodded to Warren as the vision plate before them
was suddenly befilmed with writhing tendrils of moisture-laden
atmosphere--"we're diving into the cotton. From now on it's blind
flight. Co-ordinates O.Q.?"
"O.Q.," said Warren briefly, and concentrated on the task of dropping
the _Liberty_ through unfathomable miles of enswaddling cloud to the
tiny core within.
* * * * *
A short time later his efforts gained their recompense. The gray veil
thinned, then parted, and once again the _Liberty_ was scudding through
clear atmosphere, sunless and damply gray, but not unpleasant. Above
the virgin surface of a planet not unlike jungle-strewn Venus, great
rivers sprawled through chains of rolling hills. The brown soil was
resplendent with wild, brilliantly multicolored foliage.
The rest was simple. Pangré, capital city, lay at the north polar
extremity of Jupiter. They had but to follow their compass to reach it.
So in a space of time measurable by minutes the _Liberty_ had attained
and hovered over the fourth of the great world capitals that they had
visited on their flight.
A bustle of activity on the spaceport below greeted their arrival.
They asked and were given clearance. Smoothly Hugh Warren dropped
the whippet craft into the designated cradle. And as the hypatomics
spluttered into silence, the spacefarers prepared to leave their ship.
A great throng was gathered at the rocketdrome. That was
understandable, for of all the civilized planets, Jupiter was least
visited by Earth's commercemen, and it was a rare occasion indeed which
saw a sleek cruiser of the Space Patrol dropping jets on the faraway
world.
That many of the assemblage were bearing arms was also evident to
those aboard the _Liberty_, but Gary Lane found no cause for alarm
in this fact. It was only natural that since suspicion and a degree
of animosity existed amongst the governments of all the planets
the Jovians should come to meet their visitors prepared for any
eventuality. On every planet so far his mission had been greeted with
distrust. He did not expect it to be otherwise here. He only hoped that
candor and a complete explanation of the crisis would here win him the
last of those four needed secrets.
"Nevertheless," said Dr. Kang, "it is written: 'The wise man treads the
unknown path with drawn sword'. It would be well for us to approach
the Jovians as cautiously as they await our coming. Therefore, while
you go out I shall remain within the ship, watching carefully. At the
first sign of hostile movement I shall depress the force-shield button,
surrounding you and the _Liberty_, with an impenetrable field. Good
luck, my friends."
"And since," added Dr. Anjers, "it would not look well for the crew to
remain aboard, if we are to give an appearance of frankness and amity,
I shall go to the engine room and there keep the hypos running for
immediate departure ... if such should be necessary."
Thus it was arranged. And so, a few minutes later, young Dr. Lane
headed a company numbering a score which clambered from the _Liberty's_
airlock to the surface of the planet Jupiter.
* * * * *
The space sailors and blasters, grateful for an opportunity to stretch
their legs, came happily from the ship. But none, not even the skipper
Hugh Warren himself, wore sidearms, so desirous was Gary of proving to
the Jovians his good will. With calm assurance the venturers moved
toward the azure-fleshed assembly awaiting them, taking care, however,
not to step beyond that imaginary line which Dr. Kang had said was the
limit of the force-shield protection.
Gary raised both arms aloft in the universal token of greeting.
"Peace, men of Jupiter!" he cried. "We come from Earth in friendship
and goodwill on a mission of vital importance, and we beg an audience
with your leaders."
He could not have dreamed what was to happen next. It happened too
swiftly and too suddenly for any comprehension. The leader of the
Jovians, a member (if one could judge by the elaborateness of his
trappings) of the Supreme Council, flung high his arm in a sign which
was anything but friendly. His voice rasped forth in strident command.
"It is they! The Earthling traitors who would steal the fruits of our
knowledge and destroy our noble culture. Seize them and hold them fast!"
In that instant the waiting throng coalesced into an angry mob, and as
one man surged violently forward to seize their earthly visitors!
* * * * *
There was but one thing for Gary Lane to do. He spun toward the ship,
shouted, "The force-shield, Dr. Kang! Turn it on!"
Then, with a sigh of assurance that they were safe from their
attackers, to his comrades he said mournfully, "Well, we might as well
go back to the ship. They don't seem to believe us. Guess we'll have to
talk to them by radio until we can make them understand--"
Then the shrill cry of Nora Powell brought his words to an abrupt end.
"The barrier, Gary! It's not working! Look! They're breaking through!"
And Gary whirled again to see. In truth, there was no invisible shield
to stay the advance of the onrushing Jovians. Already the vanguard of
the blue-skinned warriors was rushing down upon his band, and already
the startled Earthmen were preparing to combat this unexpected threat.
They were, or had been, men of the Space Patrol. They had no intention
of surrendering meekly to a force of an alien planet, no matter how
out-numbered or outarmed.
The voice of Herby Hawkins cried in shrill dismay, "Why, the blue
blighters! Wot scum! Let 'em 'ave it, boys!"
And though guns had been forbidden the landing party, other but still
formidable weapons appeared miraculously in space-bronzed fists. Sheath
knives and leaded knucks, a Martian _kuugla_, an Erosian _traal_.[8]
[Footnote 8: "The _Kuugla_ of the Martian outlanders is vaguely similar
to the _bola_ of Earth's Polynesian tribesmen, being a length of fine
hemp weighted at one extremity with three barbed hooks. When thrown
by an expert, the _kuugla_ wraps itself about the body of its victim,
the barbs sinking into his flesh while the rope coils itself about
his body, stifling any movement.... The _traal_ of the Eros guards
is somewhat like the _boomerang_ used by early Australian bushmen,
except that it is shaped more like a swastika, each blade being honed
to a razor edge. An accomplished "_traalul_" (or "traal-thrower") can
decapitate an enemy at two hundred yards with this weapon ... and make
the _traal_ return to his feet for another casting."--Excerpt from: _A
Survey of Tribal Weapons_, Stellar Institute Press, 2208 A.D.--_Ed._]
* * * * *
In vain, Lane cried swift warning, "No, lads! Don't fight! Let them
take us if they must! Go peaceably!"
His words came too late. Already a Jovian had fallen beneath the thrust
of a slashing blade. Another was gasping out his life in choking coils
of the Martian _kuugla_, while bubbling screams of horror bespoke the
whirling path of the cross-shaped Erosian weapon.
Then sheer weight of numbers overwhelmed the feeble defense. The
Jovians smashed through the battling few, and their stronger weapons
took harsh toll of those who had dared oppose them.
Gary saw two Earth mariners go down, Robinson and Mulasky, parched to
cinders by the lethal flame of the universally employed needle-gun. He
saw Bill Smikes, who had wielded the _traal_, literally torn to pieces
by the vengeful hands of blue-skinned foemen. And another fell also;
one innocent of any attack. Chief Engineer Sebold, whose only crime
had been attempting to hurry his men to safety. A ray gun caught him,
burning his legs out from under him as if they had been tinder. He
toppled and fell forward, his grizzled old space-beaten face a mass of
shock and incredulity.
With a cry Gary leaped to his side. But there was nothing to be done.
The engineer was as good as dead ... and knew it. He twisted his
writhing form to look up. His lips muttered thickly, "The foreign
doctor! The filthy, murdering beast! He sold us out!"
Then a whiteness drained his lips ... and he was gone.
* * * * *
But with his passing ended--for the time being, at least--the
slaughter. For now the Jovians had accomplished their end; had
completely surrounded the Earth party, and held every member captive
save those in the ship. Nor did _they_ hold their freedom for long. At
the Jovian leader's command a corps of warriors rushed the airlock.
When they emerged a few minutes later they escorted with no gentleness
Kang and Boris Anjers. Anjers' usually cherubic face was mottled with
rage and scorn. As he was thrust into company with his comrades he
pointed a quivering finger at Kang and screamed, "The yellow devil! He
never pressed the button! The shield was never activated!"
O'Day, who during the brief affray had made no attempt to fight, but
had leaped to the protection of the two girls, now glanced up from the
pale golden creature whose slim form his arm still encircled to meet
the eyes of Dr. Kang questioningly.
"Never pressed--But, Dr. Kang, why not?"
No muscle moved on the aged Martian's features, but his eyes were dark
pools of bewilderment. "There is something terribly wrong. I _did_
depress the button. The force-shield should have worked. I--I do not
understand!"
Then there was time for no more, for the Jovian commander was prodding
them into motion, and his voice was unequivocably harsh.
"To the Hall with them, that they may be judged and sentenced for this
vile treachery!"
* * * * *
Thus, not as free men freely seeking a gift of equals, but as already
half-adjudged and half-condemned captives, were the space venturers
transported to the Council Hall of Pangré.
Here sat in judgment upon them white robed and diademed beings of a
race not now to be found on any of the inner planets. The azure-tinted
people who, if Dr. Kang's explanation were true, had in eons past
spread culture throughout the whole of the solar system.
The judging of the _Liberty's_ equipage was a swift formality, speedily
concluded. The Jovian council's handling of the case was a travesty of
justice. It listened to the tale told by its fellow members, crisply
abbreviated Gary Lane's attempt at explanation, and the half score
Councillors conferred briefly amongst themselves.
Then one, their leader, turned to address the Earthmen. "It is enough!
We have decided. By the powers invested in us, the Supreme Council of
Ahura-Pangré, we do hereby determine and judge--"
"But," cried Gary Lane, "you haven't listened to our story ... haven't
heard our reasons for coming here...."
"That since in violation of every rule and precept of interplanetary
law you, a group of criminal felons from a neighbor planet, have made
landing without permission upon our world--"
"We couldn't do otherwise. We had to come here, learn your secret...."
"And did hereupon murderously set upon and slay certain of our
citizens--"
"_Us?_" cried Flick Muldoon. "Us set upon and slayed? Listen, you
blue-skinned baboon, we came here as friendly as fleas on a pup's tail.
_Your_ boys are the ones who started the fighting!"
"We do therefore," continued the Jovian Councillor sternly, "hereby
condemn and sentence you--"
Gary drew a deep, regretful breath. Well, here it came. Imprisonment. A
long wrangle of extraditionary rites ... transportation back to Earth,
there to stand trial before a jury of Earthmen ... a dreary, tedious,
legalistic process, wasting precious--oh, so precious--time! He twisted
restlessly under the knowledge that while worlds dillydallied, disaster
crept ever nearer. If he could only make these people understand--
Then his petulance died, appalled. For the Councillor was speaking
again, and from his lips were falling words that in his wildest
imaginings Gary had not dreamed to hear. Words which not only wasted
precious time but spelled forever an end to their vital mission.
Dreadful words of doom.
"Do hereby condemn and sentence you," intoned the Chief Councillor
stridently, "to ... _immediate execution!_"