_Desperate Plans_
The deck glowed lurid in the queer blue-greenish glare of Martian
electro-fuse lights. It was in a bustle of ordered activity. Some
twenty of the crew were scattered about, working in little groups.
Apparatus was being brought up from below to be assembled. There was a
pile of Erentz suits and helmets, of Martian pattern, but still very
similar to those with which Grantline's expedition was equipped. There
were giant projectors of several kinds, some familiar to me, others
of a fashion I had never seen before. It seemed there were six or
eight of them, still dismantled, with a litter of their attendant
batteries and coils and tube-amplifiers. They were to be mounted here
on the deck, I surmised; I saw in the dome-side one or two of them
already rolled into position at the necessary pressure portes.
Anita and I stood outside Potan's cubby, gazing around us curiously.
The men looked at us, but none of them spoke.
"Let's watch from here a moment," I whispered. She nodded, standing
with her hand on my arm. I felt that we were very small, here in the
midst of these seven-foot Martian men. I was all in white, the costume
used in the warm interior of the Grantline camp. Bareheaded, white
silk _Planetara_ uniform jacket, broad belt and tight-laced trousers.
Anita was a slim black figure beside me, somber as Hamlet, with her
pale boyish face and wavy black hair.
The gravity being maintained here on the ship we had found to be
stronger than that of the Moon--rather more like Mars.
"There are the heat-rays, Gregg."
* * * * *
A pile of them was visible down the deck-length. And I saw caskets of
fragile glass globes, bombs of different styles; hand-projectors of
the paralyzing ray; search-beams of several varieties; the Benson
curve-light, and a few side-arms of ancient Earth-design--swords and
dirks, and small bullet projectors.
There seemed to be some mining equipment also. Far along the deck,
beyond the central cabin in the open space of the stern, steel rails
were stacked; half a dozen small-wheeled ore-carts; a tiny motor
engine for hauling them--and what looked as though it might be the
dismembered sections of an ore-shute.
The whole deck was presently strewn with this mass of equipment.
Potan moved about, directing the different groups of workers. The
news had spread that we knew the location of the treasure. The
brigands were jubilant. In a few hours the ship's armament would be
ready, and it would advance to attack Grantline.
I saw many glances being cast out the dome side-windows toward the
distant, far-down plains of the Mare Imbrium. The brigands believed
that the Grantline camp lay in that direction.
Anita whispered, "Which is their giant electronic projector, Gregg?"
I could see it amidships of the deck. It was already in place. Potan
was there now, superintending the men who were connecting it. The most
powerful weapon on the ship, it had, Potan said, an effective range of
some ten miles. I wondered what it would do to a Grantline building!
The Erentz double walls would withstand it for a time, I was sure. But
it would blast an Erentz fabric-suit, no doubt of that. Like a
lightning bolt, it would kill--its flashing free-stream of electrons
shocking the heart, bringing instant death.
I whispered, "We must smash that before we leave! But first turn it on
Miko, if he signals now."
* * * * *
I was tensely watchful for that signal. The electronic projector
obviously was not yet ready. But when it was connected, I must be near
it, to persuade its duty-man to fire it on Miko. With this done we
would have more time to plan our other tasks. I did not think Potan
would be ready for his attack before another time of sleep here in the
ship's routine. Things would be quieter then--I would watch my chance
to send a signal to Earth, and then we would escape.
With my thoughts roving, we had been standing quietly at the cubby
door-oval for perhaps fifteen minutes. My hand in my side pouch
clutched the little bullet projector. The brigands had taken it from
me and given it to Potan. He had placed it on the settle with my
Erentz suit; and when we gained his confidence he had forgotten it
and left it there. I had it now, and the feel of its cool sleek handle
gave me a measure of comfort. Things could go wrong so easily--but if
they did, I was determined to sell my life as dearly as possible. And
a vague thought was in my mind: I must not use the last bullet. That
would be for Anita.
I shook myself free from such sinister fancy.
"That electronic projector is remote-controlled. Look, Anita--that's
the signal room over us. The giant projector will be aimed and fired
from up there."
It seemed so. A thirty-foot skeleton tower stood on the deck near us,
with a spiral ladder leading up to a small square steel cubby at the
top. Through the cubby window-ovals I could see instrument panels. A
single Martian was up there; he had called down to Potan concerning
the electronic projector.
* * * * *
The roof of this little tower room was close under the dome--a space
of no more than four feet. A pressure lock-exit in the dome was up
there, with a few steps leading up to it from the roof of the tower
signal-room. We could escape that way, perhaps. In the event of dire
necessity it might be possible. But only as a desperate resort, for it
would put us on the top of the glassite dome, with a sheer hundred
feet or more down its sleek bulging exterior side, and down the
outside bulge of the ship's hull, to the rocks below. There might be a
spider ladder outside leading downward, but I saw no evidence of it.
If Anita and I were forced to escape that way, I wondered how we could
manage a hundred foot jump to the rocks and land safely. Even with the
slight gravity of the Moon it would be a dangerous fall.
"You are Gregg Haljan?"
I started as one of the brigands, coming up behind us, addressed me.
"Yes."
"Commander Potan tells me you were chief navigator of the
_Planetara_?"
"Yes."
"You shall pilot us when we advance upon the Grantline camp. I am
control-commander here--Brotow, my name."
He smiled. A giant fellow, but spindly. He spoke good English. He
seemed anxious to be friendly.
"We are glad to have you and George Prince's sister with us." He shot
Anita an admiring glance. "I will show you our controls, Haljan."
"All right," I said. "Whatever I can do to help...."
"But not now. It will be some hours before we are ready."
I nodded, and he wandered away. Anita whispered:
"Did he mean that signal room up here in the tower? Oh, Gregg, maybe
it's only the ship's control room!"
"I don't know. But the projector range-finders are up there, and I
think it's the signal room."
"Suppose we go up and see? Gregg, Miko's signals might start any
minute."
* * * * *
And the electronic projector now seemed about ready. It was time for
me to act. But a reluctant instinct was upon me. Our Erentz suits were
here close behind us in Potan's cubby. I hated to leave them: if
anything happened and we had to make a sudden dash, there would be no
time to garb ourselves in the suits. To adjust the helmets was bad
enough.
I whispered swiftly, "We must get into our suits--find some pretext."
I drew her back through the cubby doorway where we would be more
secluded.
"Anita, listen: I've been a fool not to plan our escape more
carefully! We're in too great a danger here."
It seemed to me suddenly that we were in desperate plight. Was it
premonition?
"Anita, listen: if anything happens and we have to make a dash--"
"Up through that dome-lock, Gregg? It's a manual control; you can see
the levers."
"Yes. It's a manual. But up there--how would we get down?"
She was far calmer than I. "There may be an outside ladder, Gregg."
"I don't think so. I haven't seen it."
"Then we can get out the way they brought us in. The hull-porte--it's
a manual, too."
"Yes, I think I can find our way down through the hull corridors. I
mean, for a quick run. If we have to run, you stay close behind me.
I've this bullet projector, and evidently there aren't many men in the
lower corridors."
"There are guards outside on the rocks."
We had seen them through the dome windows. But there were not
many--only two or three. A surprise rush at them would turn the trick.
* * * * *
We donned our Erentz suits.
"What will we do with the helmets?" Anita demanded. "Leave them here?"
"No--take them with us. I'm not going to get separated from them; it's
too dangerous."
"We'll look strange going up to that signal room equipped like this,"
she commented.
"I can't help it. We'll figure out something to explain it."
She stood before me, a queer-looking little figure in the now
deflated, bagging suit with her slim neck and head protruding above
the metal circle of its collar.
"Carry your helmet, Anita. I'll take mine."
We could adjust the helmets and start the Erentz motors all within a
few seconds.
"I'm ready, Gregg."
"Come on, then. Let me go first."
I had the bullet projector in an outer pouch of the suit where I could
instantly reach it. This was more rational: we had a fighting chance
now. The fear which had swept me so suddenly began to recede. I was
calm.
"We'll climb the tower to the signal room," I whispered. "Do it
boldly."
We stepped from the cubby. Potan was not in sight; he was on the
further deck beyond the central cabin structure perhaps, or had gone
below.
On the deck, we were immediately accosted. This was different--our
appearance in the Erentz suits!
"Where are you going?"
This fellow spoke in Martian. I answered in English.
"Up there."
* * * * *
He stood before us, towering over me. I saw a group of nearby workers
stop to regard us. In a moment we would be causing a commotion, and it
was the last thing I desired.
I said in Martian, "Commander Potan told me, what I wish I can do.
From the dome we look around--see where is the Grantline camp--I am
pilot of this ship to go there."
The man who had called himself Brotow passed near us. I appealed to
him.
"We put on our suits. I thought we might go up on the dome for a
minute and look around. If I'm to pilot the ship...."
He hesitated, his glance sweeping the deck as though to ask Potan.
Someone said in Martian:
"The commander is down in the stern storeroom."
It decided Brotow. He waved away the Martian who had stopped me.
"Let them alone."
Anita and I gave him our most friendly smiles.
"Thanks."
He bowed to Anita with a sweeping gesture. "I will show you over the
control room presently."
His gaze went to the peak of the bow. The little hooded cubby there
was the control room. Satisfaction swept me. Then this, above us in
the tower, must surely be the signal room. Would Brotow follow us up?
I hoped not. I wanted to be alone with the duty-man up there, giving
me a chance to get at the projector controls if Miko's signal should
come.
I drew Anita past Brotow, who had stood aside. "Thanks," I repeated.
"We won't be long."
We mounted the little ladder.