For Ric, the next few days were an anguish that surpassed the most
refined torture. He worked long hours in the spore-fields, doing the
work of a hundred Phobians. One worked hard, in order to retain life
and sanity; to remain long idle, out there was to die a slow death.
As it was, the stuff was taking an insidious toll of him. At times he
wondered why he bothered. But he drove himself on, hoping against hope.
Once he even partook of the _eishn_ stems that Yarnith offered.
The stuff was bitter, gum-like, and offered a soaring elation and
a surcease from the terrible fatigue; but the after-effect was so
depressive that he didn't try it again.
He stayed with Yarnith's little group, moving and working and fighting
with them. The others became increasingly hostile, launching sporadic
attacks--those who could rouse themselves from lethargy--in an effort
to get some of the _eishn_ stems. But soon even Yarnith's small supply
was gone, divided among his group.
Still the fighting went on, for the sake of action and blood-lust. Each
day men died. Each day Ric had to protect himself. He found himself
taking a fierce joy in it, and he no longer looked upon these Phobians
as men. They were mere beasts with the killer instinct.
Ric was becoming one of them.
Only one thing sustained him. After each day's work the Martian, Naric,
came for him in the atomo-car and took him back to his quarters in the
city. There at least he had the company of Praana and Tal Horan. He
could bathe, and rest, and the meals weren't bad.
Tal Horan, in the meantime, was working hard with Kueelo and the others
in the laboratories, at the atomic furnaces, at the forges. Kueelo
seemed not to care how much Tal learned of their work. He was supremely
confident.
And well he might be. Tal told Ric of it.
"I've seen the newly processed metal under test! It stands up
indefinitely against the metal-devouring spores--and eventually it will
be a complete counter-active against them. And the new rocket-tubes
are frightening! I saw one of them in the testing block, subjected
to internal blasts far greater than anything known. It seems almost
resilient under stress!" Tal's face had gone pale as he talked. "Later
they plan to equip an entire Fleet. If that time ever comes...."
Time began to lose all meaning for Ric. Days blended into a
phantasmagoria of working and fighting ... blood and madness. Already
he was forgetting how he had come here. He cared even less. He was here
to die, and he hoped it would be soon.
It was perhaps a week later that Kueelo came to them, after the days
work. "Gorak wishes to see you. All of you!"
Tal and Praana were puzzled. In Ric, a spark struck home. He struggled
to rouse himself. Gorak ... what could he want with them now?
* * * * *
"Today," Gorak told them when they appeared in his quarters, "I spoke
with the Earth Council. I gave them my ultimatum."
He paused, watching their amazement. Then he turned to the tele-magnum,
a huge and magnificent instrument, as powerful as anything Earth had.
"I cut into the Earth beam while they were broadcasting to Venus and,
by drowning out their channel, contacted them for a few minutes.
Needless to say," he turned his cold orbs upon Ric, "they refused my
terms. They refuse to believe I destroyed Mars. Of course I realize it
would be hard for them to capitulate even if they wanted to. Earth's
Fleet is divided, and all has not gone well with Wessell. Already there
have been skirmishes around Luna, and part of Wessell's fleet has gone
down to destruction."
Ric's heart leaped. At least this was good news! But Gorak's cold voice
went on.
"I cannot wait for them to destroy themselves, because in two more days
Phobos comes into juxtaposition with Earth, and that will not happen
again for months. Earth must have an object lesson! Come. I wish to
show you what I mean."
Once again they entered the atomo-car and were speeding away from the
city, traversing Phobos' inner shell. They passed the laboratories and
shops, hearing the clangor of work still going on. They came to a place
where huge, powerful-looking rockets were arranged in neat rows. There
were literally hundreds of them.
"Those are the bombs!" Tal whispered to Ric. "They explode upon
contact, releasing the spores!"
Their car had stopped, and Gorak ordered them out. Kueelo and Naric
were there, and dozens of Phobians, fully armed. The place was well
guarded. They saw vast mechanisms reaching endlessly across the wall.
These were topped by huge metal discs, perhaps ten feet in diameter.
"The propulsion pits," Gorak explained. "Even vaster, of course, than
those we used against Mars. I wanted you especially to see these--Ric
Martin. Kueelo, show him."
Kueelo stepped to the operating board. Slowly, under his control, one
of the huge discs slid back. A great, gleaming metal bore was revealed.
It ejected toward them silently, as though on great compression coils.
"The bores extend entirely through Phobos' shell," Gorak went on.
"It has been the work of years. They rest on huge pivots and can be
adjusted to any desired angle." He waved a hand. "As you can see, we
have twenty of them. Let us hope we will not need them all. Luna is
airless, and the action of the spores will be faster there than on
Mars."
"Luna!" Praana swayed and would have collapsed, but for Tal Horan's
arms about her. "You're going to land the spores on Earth's moon? My
people are there ... bottled up in Tycho!"
"That is unfortunate. Your people may yet be saved, Princess Praana. It
depends upon Ric Martin."
"What do you mean?" Ric's voice was tight.
Gorak looked at him calculatingly. "You may have wondered why we have
revealed everything to you--all of our plans, all of our power. It's
because I want you, as an Earthman, to realize what's in store for your
planet unless they capitulate. I don't want Earth to go the way of
Mars. I don't even want to destroy Earth's moon--unless it's necessary.
It's up to you, Ric Martin, to convince your stubborn Earth Council!"
"How can I do that?"
"Tomorrow evening Earth's regular news broadcast will be beamed to
Venus. I can cut into the channel again, as I did today. This time
_you_ will speak to them. You will tell your Council what you have seen
here, and what faces them. It will be their last chance! If you don't
convince them ... Luna's destruction will! Earth was aloof when Mars
was dying, but this will be much nearer home!"
* * * * *
The hours passed. A deadly quiet had come over the city, not even
broken now by the monotonous hum of the atomic furnaces. It was
"night"; their wall lights had automatically dimmed, but outside the
bluish light from Phobos' walls was all-pervading.
Ric, Praana and Tal Horan did not sleep. But the guards outside
had been doubled, and they were alert, patrolling the corridors
ceaselessly. Occasionally one of the guards stopped to look in upon
them.
"Your people will not die, Praana," Ric told her. "I'll convince the
Council to do as Gorak says. Later, perhaps, they can find the way to
deal with him."
"No! His first move would be to order the surrender of their entire
Fleet. Earth would be relegated to a minor power ... and Venus would be
next!"
Tal said thoughtfully, "Ric ... when you get in front of that
tele-magnum, tell your Council to send their entire Fleet out here!
They ought to be able to blast Phobos out of space!"
"Yes, if they could get within ten thousand miles of here--which
they can't! Gorak's bombs are radio-controlled, and the entire Fleet
wouldn't stand long against them."
They were suddenly silent, as a Phobian guard appeared in the doorway.
For a moment the man stood hesitant. Praana rose, quickly crossed the
room to him. The guard handed something to her, and moved quickly away.
"The _eishn_ stems!" Praana handed Ric several tightly wrapped bundles.
"For days I've been trying to persuade him to get some for us! I
convinced him we needed it for ourselves."
Ric had almost forgotten about it. "My plan may not work, now. But it's
a last chance. If only they send me back to the spore-fields tomorrow!"
He hid the drug carefully away in his clothes.
And Ric did go back to the fields. For him it was the same routine day.
Those deadly spores needed harvesting, to go into the bombs that were
still being assembled. He worked as usual, but stayed near the man
Yarnith, awaiting his chance.
At last it came. He managed to get Yarnith apart from the others.
"I have something for you!" Ric reached into his pocket, brought out
one of the _eishn_ stems. Just one.
Yarnith seized it, placed it in his mouth. His hands trembled in
eagerness, his dulling eyes came to life. "Earthman! where did you--I
thought--"
"Yes, you thought there were no more of them! Yarnith, you are no
longer men, you are slaves, all of you are slaves! Do you suppose Gorak
cares about you? He and the others live in luxury in the city, while
the rest of you work out here and die and kill--"
Yarnith wasn't listening, he had become as the others. He no longer
cared. Ric looked at the man in disgust, then fury swept over him. He
seized Yarnith's arm, whirled him around roughly. Yarnith cowered,
whimpering.
"Listen to me! Listen! There are more _eishn_ stems, enough for all of
you. All you have to do is take them! Do you understand that?"
Yarnith understood that. It was all he understood, all he cared. He
nodded eagerly. "More of them?"
"Yes, in the city! Gorak has them!"
Yarnith slumped in despair. "The city. We can never go there again.
None of us have ever--"
Ric shoved him away disgustedly, went to join the others. Throughout
the day he moved among them, portioning out the stems, giving them the
same story. Each worker received one stem, no more. Some were beyond
understanding him, and these he tried to avoid. Others watched him
covetously, eyeing the supply of stems he was portioning out.
Once a knife slashed his shoulder, and he went to his knees from the
blow. Ric whirled and killed the man with a single blow that snapped
the frail neck. Ric went berserk then, dashing among them, flailing and
lashing and throwing fists left and right as the blood-lust came upon
him. They fled before him.
"You're going to understand one thing, damn you!" he shouted. "There
are plenty of these stems in the city, but you'll get them for
yourself! I'll bring you no more!"
That seemed to work better. It roused them from their lethargy, and Ric
kept them that way. How many more he killed or maimed, he never knew.
It became a sort of mad game. It was a day Ric was never to forget!
Nor would they forget him. At the end of that day he saw many of them
in groups, muttering to themselves, watching him balefully. As if for
the first time, they realized one thing: this Earthman always returned
to the city ... and he had _eishn_ stems!
When Ric returned this time, there was a weariness upon him such as he
had never known. But a fierce hope burned within him, a hope that these
Phobians would remember ... that they'd become men again for at least a
while, and not fall again into their lethargy....
He'd done his best, and there would not be another chance.