IV

"You may watch if you wish. I'm going to treat you to as masterful a

piece of navigation as you've ever seen." Kueelo stood at the control

board, hands ready, eyes fastened on the panorama spreading below them.

"You especially should appreciate this, Earthman! Naric, keep them

covered."

Phobos rushed up before them, a horribly barren world that seemed

to encompass all of space. Closer it came, but Kueelo didn't check

his drive. They could see vast plains dotted with craters, and huge

serrated cliffs reaching up.

At last Kueelo applied his forward thrust, and they levelled out. Half

around the planet they raced. A mountain range loomed. The spacer

dipped sharply, driving straight at it! Ric was taut, sweat glistening

on his brow. No ship could ever brake in time at that suicidal speed!

He merely closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable.

A sudden force sent him reeling. A profound nausea made him retch. Then

Kueelo was at his side, touching his shoulder.

"How was that, Earthman?" Kueelo laughed. "Don't worry, we're safe

now!"

White-faced and shaken, Ric opened his eyes. They had entered a place

of semi-darkness, but were still moving ahead.

"Where are we?"

"Inside the cliffs! We've entered a magnetic field that arrests speed

and mass synchronously. We are being slowed in a graduating net of

force."

In a few minutes they had come to a complete rest, but Kueelo told

them, "Stay where you are! Our trip isn't over yet."

Ric peered into the forward screen. Darkness encompassed them. He

turned questioningly. Kueelo grinned and gestured downward.

"You mean we're going inside this planet?"

"Yes. _Very_ far inside. We're on the downward beams now. Patience,

Earthman, you'll see many amazing things before we're through."

It took a long time, and there was no telling how far they'd gone or

with what speed. They seemed not to be moving at all. But at last a

faint blue radiance appeared, and Kueelo opened the lock.

They stepped out onto a ledge which extended perhaps a hundred yards,

then dropped sheerly away. The walls curving up were of polished

smoothness, and stretched away into unimaginable distances. The soft

bluish light came from these walls and seemed to pervade the whole

interior of this hollow world. The air was damp but comfortably warm.

And the gravity....

Praana clutched at Tal Horan's arm. "This is almost Mars gravity!

But ... where do they get it?"

"Yes, we'll have to look into that later." Tal cautioned her to silence.

A three-wheeled car was waiting for them. Kueelo hurried them into

it, and Naric took the controls. Soon they were speeding away, and

they gasped as their ledge tapered off into nothingness! They were

traversing the inside of the shell itself.

"It's eerie at first," Kueelo told them, "but you'll soon become

accustomed to our gravity. Just imagine the space out there as being

_up_. The only difference is that our light comes from the surface

instead of overhead."

"What's the interior diameter?" Ric gestured outward.

"About three hundred miles. And you were wondering about our gravity,

Tal Horan? It comes from out there!" Kueelo gestured vaguely at the

gray-blue interior. "Our power plant is anchored in space at the exact

center of Phobos. But it's reverse gravity--that is to say, its force

extends _outward_ toward the shell, instead of pulling inward."

Tal saw that the man was communicative. He nodded thoughtfully. "Quite

an engineering feat! It must have taken a long time to set up all this!"

"Two generations! It was not done in my time."

"Where are we going now?"

"To the city of the Phobians."

Praana gasped. "Native Phobians? But there are no Phobians left! For

three hundred years--"

"That's the popular supposition, and it suits our convenience. Yes,

three hundred years ago the war between Mars and Phobos was supposed to

have ended. But you shall see! Perhaps Gorak himself will have much to

tell you."

"Gorak?"

"The present Phobian leader! There are only a few thousand Phobians

remaining, as there are only a few thousand of your people. Ironic, is

it not ... Princess Praana?"

* * * * *

The city came into view, a sheer grotesquerie of impossible buildings

jutting crazily into space. However, as they came nearer, it was

apparent that many of them were abandoned.

They passed through a long street and entered a building which Kueelo

seemed to know well. He was familiar with everything here, Ric

thought--too familiar! They came into a room where a man sat at a

table, poring over charts and figures. He looked up, greeted Kueelo and

Naric by name.

"This is Tal Horan, and the Princess Praana!" Kueelo said, the pride

of accomplishment in his voice. "We have done better than we supposed!

And this one is Ric Martin, who foolishly came into space to warn Dar

Mihelson."

While Kueelo was telling his story, Ric watched this Phobian leader,

Gorak, who was as ghastly a character as he had ever seen. Pallid,

with a bluish tinge, the man stood well over six feet tall, but his

body seemed frail. His head was absurdly large, quite hairless and

glistening. The colorless, lidless eyes were not nice to look into. He

watched the others, especially Praana, with those cold eyes as Kueelo

talked.

"So. The Princess Praana," Gorak said at last, and his thin gash of a

mouth parted in a grin, revealing brownish teeth. "But are you quite

sure, Kueelo? I seem to remember her differently, in the tele-magnum."

"I am quite sure, Gorak. It was Bedril's wish that she disguise

herself."

Gorak nodded, never once taking those lidless orbs from Praana. "You

have done well, Kueelo. She will serve as a most valuable pawn. And

this other--Tal Horan. Is he not the metallurgist who worked with

Bedril?"

"Yes, and I'm sure he must have their formula for the Counter-active!

They were working in the right direction, just as we...."

Gorak held up a hand. He surveyed Tal Horan coldly from head to foot,

and Tal returned the gaze unflinchingly. Then Gorak's gaze lingered on

Tal's right hand. He spoke without emotion.

"Kueelo. You have not been very observant."

Tal Horan whirled for the door, but a dozen Phobians had entered

silently to bar the way. Tal lashed out at them, and three went down

before his pile-driver fists before the others brought him back,

struggling, to stand before Gorak.

"It is useless, Tal Horan. You see, we need this formula." Gorak

reached to Tal's right hand, removed a colorless, plastic ring from his

finger. From the inside of the ring he stripped a tightly-rolled film,

handed it to Kueelo.

"It is you who will need this, Kueelo. I am sure you can persuade Tal

Horan to assist you in deciphering it."

"Think again!" Tal husked through clenched teeth.

Praana faced the Phobian leader squarely. "You beast! You'll never

reclaim Mars from the red plague! And--my people are safe!" Triumph

filtered into her voice.

Gorak grinned down at her. All of him grinned except those horrible

eyes. He turned, touched the huge tele-magnum behind him. "Let us say,

rather, that your people have gained a temporary respite. They are safe

on Earth's moon. I watched it." Sudden vicious hate erased the grin.

"But my people remain too, Praana! For three hundred years the Phobians

have hidden and burrowed and builded--and planned! The Martians thought

they had wiped us out. They levelled our cities with atom-blasts, they

slashed and blackened the surface of Phobos and hunted down my people

mercilessly. Even when our Fleet had gone down to destruction and we

were helpless, even when my people sued for a peace from the horrible

war, _pleaded_, the Martian leaders would not listen!"

Praana was taut with emotion. "Yes! Yes, our history tells of it too!

Three times the Phobians had initiated wars against Mars which ended

in holocaust for both our peoples! And the last time, we determined it

should never happen again. However," she gained control of herself,

"this was long before your time or mine. Centuries ago."

"True. We are the fourth generation. It is personal, nevertheless! The

Phobians as a race do not die easily ... nor as individuals do they

ever forget!" Gorak's lips writhed again. "It was for _me_ to resume

the war against Mars! _I_ am destined to be our liberator, and I have

done exceedingly well. Once more we are on equal terms, Praana!"

"_You_ resumed the war!" Her face was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"The spores, of course. The red plague that appeared so mysteriously on

Mars. Where do you think it came from?"

Praana's face blanched. Tal Horan tried to leap forward, to smash

Gorak's sneering face. But a dozen wiry Phobians held him back.

"Yes," Gorak went on. "The spores were launched from here! Almost

single-handed, I have accomplished the destruction of Mars. The rest

will be easy! We have far-reaching plans!" With a wave of the hand

Gorak indicated that he was weary of this. "Take them away, Kueelo. See

that Praana is made comfortable, but guard her well. If Tal Horan shows

a disinclination to work with you on the Counter-active, refer him

again to me, but I am sure you have persuasive methods equal to my own."

Gorak turned his cold orbs on Ric. "As for the Earthman ... watch him

well! His lips have been very still, but not his brain!"

V

Outside again, Ric flashed a warning look at Tal Horan and said

tentatively to Kueelo:

"As a spaceman and engineer, all of this interests me! Just what is the

nature of these spores? How did you manage to get them across to Mars?

And"--he looked about the empty streets--"where are the Phobians?"

"You shall learn these things in due time. And, if you are entertaining

thoughts of escaping from here," Kueelo said with calm assurance, "you

may as well forget it. You will work, Earthman; you will work very

hard, in order to stay alive. You'll soon learn why! Later ... you may

be of even more use to us."

They entered the car again and soon were speeding away from the city.

The shimmering blue surface light began to fade away. They entered a

twilight place where the walls were of dull gray stone.

"Where are you taking us now?" Praana asked.

"You shall see! I feel it is best that you understand fully what we

have accomplished here, and it is only the beginning. Our plans are

far-reaching!"

Far-reaching. Ric thought he knew what that meant, but he remained

silent and watchful. A few miles further they entered a region of

pallid, purplish vegetation. There were vast patches of it, acres

wide, growing from the surface. And they saw the Phobians. Hundreds of

these frail, pallid people were working listlessly into the growth,

harvesting it, placing it in small fibroid carts to be hauled away.

"You asked about the nature of the spores," Kueelo said to Ric. "Touch

it, then. I want you to see for yourself."

Ric examined it curiously. It grew in thick masses close to the stone,

almost lichen-like. It was the strangest stuff he had ever seen. It

seemed literally to crawl! Carefully he reached out a hand. A faint

tingling, almost radioactive, went through his skin.

"Touch it with metal," Kueelo said.

Ric searched his pockets, found a small silver coin. Gingerly he

extended it. When the metal was yet a few inches from the fungoid

growth, it seemed to be snatched from his fingers! The growth reached

swiftly upward at it, and the metal dissolved away. For a three foot

radius the growth turned from the pallid purple to blood red ... seemed

trying to tear itself from the stone. Ric could even feel a faint heat

from it.

So this was Gorak's weapon! This was the stuff he had launched,

somehow, upon Mars. It was diabolic ... and Ric could understand, now,

how Mars had been devastated in a matter of weeks! Questions were

pounding in his brain; but before he could speak, Kueelo was saying

with supreme confidence:

"You wonder how we control it. We have only partially done that, by

use of the new allotropic metal from Mercury. Under special processing

in our atomic furnaces we have been able to strengthen the atomic

structure of the Mercury metal, at least to the point where it will

counter-act the spores temporarily. With that accomplished, it was a

simple matter to propel them on robot-control across the short space to

Mars."

"And upon landing there," Tal Horan's voice came fraught with hate,

"the spores broke down the metal and were free to spread on Mars! It's

diabolic!"

"Let us say, clever," Kueelo continued coldly. "And with the formula

you have provided, I believe we can strengthen the atomic structure

still more. We can increase our range. We shall have a weapon indeed!"

He dismissed the subject abruptly and turned to Ric. "Tal Horan will

assist me tomorrow at the laboratories. _Your_ work will be here. You

are new, and can do the work of a hundred of these Phobians."

There was secret meaning, secret amusement in the words. Ric looked

again at the Phobians moving slowly, automaton-like, listless and

dull-eyed. He felt an awful foreboding as he wondered how long before

he became like these shells of men....

* * * * *

They returned to the city where Kueelo assigned them to their quarters.

They didn't lack for comfort, but Phobian guards, obviously not of the

worker class, patrolled the corridors ceaselessly.

"Their plan is obvious!" Ric said when they were alone. "Earth is to

be next, unless it capitulates to their demands. And lord knows what

those will be!"

"Yes." Praana was thoughtful. "I think Kueelo would have bargained

with Mars, but Gorak wanted his revenge, the wholesale destruction of

our people. And he probably figures it will be a good object lesson to

Earth."

"They couldn't have picked a better time, with Earth divided on the

question of the Mars refugees, and Wessell using the Fleet for his own

political ambitions! Tal ... you'll be working with Kueelo tomorrow.

Pretend to co-operate, but slow them down if you can! Learn what their

plans are. Find out how much time we have!"

Tal nodded. "We'll all have to keep our eyes and ears open. Our only

chance is to get back to that spaceship."

"How? Even if we got past the guards, we could never find our way back

to that air-lock." Ric laughed bitterly. "Direction is meaningless in

this crazy world!"

Then he was strangely silent, as his mind struggled on the threshold

of an idea. There was something Kueelo had said, in his boastful mood,

something Ric should have remembered. Something....

But Ric couldn't recall it now. Events had happened too swiftly. The

more he tried to grasp the idea the more it eluded him. At last his

weary mind gave it up, and he sank into a sleep of exhaustion.

He was awakened roughly and looked up to see Kueelo. Tal and Praana

were already up, and some Phobian servants were bringing breakfast in

to them.

"You won't find existence here too hard," Kueelo told them, "so long

as you do as you're told. Eat your breakfast, then you, Tal Horan,

will accompany me, and you, Ric Martin, will go with Naric to the

spore-fields. As for Praana ... Gorak wishes to confer further with

her."

Tal Horan glanced at her anxiously, but Praana whispered, "It's all

right, Tal, I can take care of myself; and I may be able to help!"

Ric accompanied Naric, and they reached the spore-fields where groups

of Phobians were already beginning the day's work. Ric was given a

leather hood that came over his head and around his neck, and soft

leather gloves.

He went to work slowly, methodically, following the example of the

others. The roots of the growth, he found, were embedded deep. It clung

tenaciously. And soon, even through his clothes, through the protecting

gear, he could feel faint radiations at work on his skin.

Before an hour had passed, it began to take its toll of him. Sweat was

in his eyes, but he did not mind that. Much worse, something seemed

to be happening to his metabolism. His blood moved sluggishly in his

veins, as a terrible impassivity gripped him. Almost it was as though

essential salts within his body were being dissolved, to slow up

cellular activity! Ric paused to stare around at the phosphorescent

glow that clung about the place like a ghastly pall.

* * * * *

A group of Phobians moved toward him, pushing one of the half-filled

carts. Ric watched them dully, feeling only a desire to give up, to

sink down into the lichen growth that came about his ankles. To move,

even to think, was an effort. Then one of the Phobians came toward him.

"You are new," the man said without emotion. "To stand still is fatal.

You must keep working, keep moving, if you want to last long."

"Thanks." With an effort Ric roused himself from his lethargy, and

joined the group. He worked fast now. It was tiring work, and the sweat

still poured from him, but he felt his brain gradually clearing, and

the blood didn't pound so heavily at his temples. He knew well what

Kueelo had meant when he said, "You will work very hard, Earthman ...

in order to stay alive."

"My name is Yarnith," said the Phobian who had first spoken, as he

moved and worked beside Ric.

Ric didn't see what that mattered, and he made no reply.

"You are Earthian," the man went on. "I don't know how you came here,

but you are strong, stronger than four of us. Stay with our group,

Earthman!"

Ric looked at him, then, and at the others in the group. There were

perhaps a dozen. They were frail and pallid, but somehow their eyes

were not so vacant, there was not the gray look of death upon their

faces.

"You've not been here so long as the others!" Ric ventured.

Yarnith's face twisted bitterly. "No. Once we worked in the city, at

the laboratories, carrying on Gorak's great work. He has promised us

much ... expansion, and the respect of other worlds and the glory that

once was ours. But I've seen our people sent here to the spore-fields

in increasing numbers! It's a living death!"

Ric saw the others nod in agreement, as they listened to Yarnith. "How

much longer will it be?" one of them grumbled. "I for one do not intend

to stay here and become as these others!" He indicated the hundreds of

Phobians moving listlessly about their work.