Lorine Landreth proved a canny navigator. She set a course far beneath
the ecliptic, and for two days they did not encounter a Patrol. Curt
had noticed the spacer was painted solid black and carried no insignia;
an old trick of George Landreth's.
Was George Landreth connected in some way with all the far-scattered
events which DeHarries called the _pattern_? Had he allowed his gnawing
hate to encompass the entire Federation? All else was relegated to
unimportance in Curt's mind beside this single throbbing question. War
between the planets was imminent, as more and more monstrous happenings
occurred without reason. Curt doubted that Landreth himself could be
behind it all; it was too far-reaching and purposeful. But Curt was
resolved to follow his present lead, and hope for a way to report back
to DeHarries.
And there was another question. Kueelo.
Late on the second day Curt was off duty when there came a soft rap on
his stateroom door, and Kueelo entered.
"The girl is studying maps of the K'Yarthan Swamp," he announced.
"Jeffers and Rikert are at the controls. I think they will bear
watching, those two."
Curt nodded. He studied Kueelo. The little Martian was over his anger,
but now he seemed strangely perturbed.
"I've been waiting to speak to you alone, Curt Emmons. Remember,
Jeffers couldn't understand why you brought _me_ along? I've wondered
the same thing. From the very first. There were many others to choose
for the escape, strong ones like Rikert."
"You made it, didn't you?" Curt snapped. "Before this is over, you may
wish you were back at the Prison mines."
"That doesn't answer my question. Why did you select _me_?"
Curt hesitated. "All right. If you must know, I always had a feeling
you didn't belong at the Prison. Sure, I knew you were a 'political.'
But no ordinary one! And I don't think your name is Kueelo!"
He watched the other's face, saw emotion ripple across the chiselled
features.
"So," the Martian said softly. "I thought you might have guessed. Was
it the tune, the little aria I always sang? Many times I could feel you
listening. I sensed that you knew ... but I could not keep it within
me, Emmons!"
"Doesn't that aria occur somewhere in the _Deimian Cabal_?"
"So you know that! But for you--for any Earthman--"
"I know very little about it," Curt said quickly. "I've heard that it's
rooted in your religion somehow, but the thing's meaningless to me."
* * * * *
Kueelo stood still and straight. Curt could almost see the emotion
welling up inside him like a slow ocean tide. Then Kueelo made up his
mind. He spoke rapidly and without pause. "You are right. My name is
not Kueelo. I am Tor Ekkov, Supreme Co-ordinator of the Society of
Deimos on Mars! This cannot mean much to you, an Earthman, so I'll
tell you only this--when the occasion demands we can, and often have,
served as a balancewheel in the politics of Mars. Jal Tagar knew this
when he took over Mars six years ago. Oh, he planned well! The twelve
Co-ordinators throughout Mars were simultaneously arrested. It was a
paralyzing blow. And Jal Tagar took me, the supreme Co-ordinator, by a
most treacherous ruse--"
The little Martian paused. Hate blazed in the indomitable black depths
of his eyes.
"So Jal Tagar completed his _coup_, and Mars was under his heel. He
deemed that death was too good for _me_. Only the Mercury mines would
do, for that was a slow death."
"You paint a dark picture, Kueelo, or, rather, Tor Ekkov, but all
this was six years ago! The Federation has recognized Jal Tagar's
government. He has ruled well, and Mars has co-operated in every...."
Tor Ekkov paced the floor, stopped in front of Curt.
"Do you really believe that, Emmons? What can anyone believe--_now_?"
He noticed Curt's start of surprise. "Yes, I have heard of the strange
forces at work in the System! And let me assure you: when dark events
are brewing, you'll find Jal Tagar's hand in it somewhere!"
Curt waved a hand wearily. "Man, don't you know we're going into the
K'Yarthan Swamp? You'd better start thinking about that!"
"I believe _your_ mission is greater than you pretend, Curt Emmons.
You're no prison-board Investigator! Why did you stop me when we had
control of this ship? We could have gone back to Earth--or Mars."
"Don't ask questions, Tor Ekkov."
Tor's eyes were steady on him. "We've got to trust each other," he
urged. "If I can't return to Mars, it's imperative that I get to a
Tele-Magnum!"
Curt laughed outright at that one.
"We're going into K'Yarthan, and you speak of Tele-Magnums!"
"I must get my voice through to Mars!" Tor's eyes seemed like black
jewels in the pallid face. "There are those of my Society who believe I
still live--and when they hear my voice, hear my aria, you will see a
new Mars!"
Curt shrugged at Tor's babbling: In the face of what was happening
throughout the Federation, what did he care about a new Mars? But
the mention of a Tele-Magnum struck a sudden note. Lorine Landreth
must have a secret base in the K'Yarthan Swamp! If there should be a
Tele-Magnum there, powerful enough to contact Earth ... Curt came back
to his senses, laughed mirthlessly at such a remote chance.
In the next instant he was on his feet, as the clangor of the emergency
alarm rang through the ship. For a moment he stared at Tor's startled
face, then rushed into the corridor with the little Martian pounding
after him.
* * * * *
They found Lorine and the others in the Control Room. The girl was
calm, impassive, bending over the open receptor as a voice sliced
through.
"... have had you in our beam for the past five minutes! As you carry
no insignia, you will go into a drift immediately while we approach!
Venus Guard calling...."
Jeffers' dark face broke into a grin, but Lorine remained serious.
"They never patrolled this far from Venus! Jeffers, look to the
emergency tubes. We may need some speed!" She turned to Curt. "Get on
the V-Panel, will you Emmons? See if you can pick them out."
The crystyte panel came to life. Curt grasped the directional-finder,
swung it in eccentric parabolas. Star pinpoints arced to and fro. A
touch on the Magni-lens brought the blackness swimming into closer
view, then they sighted the Guard. Six formidable spacers emblazoned
with the Imperial Venus Emblem.
Curt glanced at the proximity dial. They seemed a comfortable distance
away, but he knew what a tremendous area the network of "finder-beams"
covered!
"Last warning," the voice razored. "Nullify your control immediately,
or we blast!"
"They're bluffing," Lorine decided.
"They can't reach us yet. If we can get away from those finder-beams
they'll never pick us up again. Jeffers, prepare for emergency blast!"
She hurried to the control-console.
"This will give our position away!" Curt exclaimed.
She glanced at him impassively. "Just stay on that panel, Emmons." The
little spacer vibrated anew. Rockets thundered on full power, then the
spacer leaped forward, executed a wide parabola that carried it miles
out of position. Almost at once Lorine cut all rockets, and they sped
forward on the momentum.
"Safe," she smiled thinly. "They'll never spot us now, a solid black
ship!"
Again Curt centered the Panel. The Venus Guard had broken formation,
widening the area of search. Magnetic beams, pale green and swirling,
criss-crossed miles of space.
Then Curt peered intently, puzzled, as a new kind of beam appeared. It
seemed to uncoil across space, carrying a little bubble of brighter
color before it. Suddenly the bubble burst. An expanse of blinding
white light illumined the depths of space! It continued to spread
outward. One edge of the perfect light-sphere very nearly touched their
speeding ship!
Startled, Lorine jabbed at the rocket studs. Once more they swept into
a parabola before she cut power. Dozens of the strange light-spheres
were appearing behind them now, dotting space for a thousand-mile
radius, expanding, shoving back the darkness. Three more times Lorine
used rockets, changing direction, before they were out of the danger
zone. Then their ship was a silent black ghost speeding away.
"Fine thing!" Jeffers exploded as he watched the scene behind them.
"Springing a new stunt like that. What a target we'd be if we got
caught in one of those things!" He grinned at Curt. "What won't they
think of next, eh?"
"Yeah," Curt said wryly. "A guy just ain't safe any more. If I were you
I'd write 'em a letter about it!"
V
Venus, mysterious and cloud-obscured, rolled up like a rounded ghost
below them. They had approached from the extreme south polar side, and
there, Curt knew, lay the K'Yarthan Swamp--a vast unexplored region
some eight hundred miles across.
As they entered the first strata of clouds a curtain of hot rain swept
about them, slashing across their ports and dissolving into vapor. Then
they broke through, and Curt felt his insides twisting up into cold
knots.
The swamp was a festering sore across the planet. A miasmic nightmare
shrouded in viscous yellow fog that seemed alive as it curled up to
touch the low-lying clouds. Jeffers put into play a penetrant beam that
partly dissolved the fog. Lorine drove the ship relentlessly forward.
They swept lower through membranous foliage and corrupted fungi-growth
reaching hundreds of feet high. There was a moment of terrible
uncertainty. Then Curt saw a clear space spreading out below. A
low-structured building occupied the exact center. Lorine set the craft
down with no more than a slight roll, then turned to the new men.
"We have to wear protective suits here. You'll understand why. Jeffers
will show you how to get into them."
The suits were of flexible beryllium-mesh, with tough rubberized
helmets fitting snugly around the neck. Curt noticed that the duroplast
face-plates were equipped with ingenious filter units.
"When you leave the ship," Jeffers told them, "be fast! Just stay close
to me." The outer lock opened, they leaped to the ground and raced
toward the building.
Curt knew instantly that the atmosphere was laden with millions of
microscopic spores. The heat was insufferable. He hadn't taken ten
steps, when sweat began trickling into the close-fitting collar. It
burned.
He heard a sharp _zing_ past his ear. Then another. Something struck
his meshed arm with enough force to half spin him around. He saw a
tiny, wickedly metallic beetle fastened in the mesh. More of them
struck him, and others sang past liked winged bullets, to flatten
against the building. He heard Rikert cry out.
Lorine was at the building now, inserting a long triggered key. There
came a crackle of sparks and the door was open.
"Welcome to Venus!" Jeffers said, as they flung themselves inside--then
he saw that Rikert was hit. One of the beetles had imbedded itself in
his wrist where he'd failed to fasten down the mesh garment.
Jeffers tore it away, crushed it underfoot. He hurried to a wall
cabinet, came back with a box of evil-smelling unguent to spread over
the wound.
"That'll heal soon. We must have stirred up a nest of those damned
_jung_ beetles!"
Curt sat down limply. Fire still burned in his lungs. So this was
K'Yarthan Swamp! He found it hard to believe that far to the north
were three hospitable continents with modern cities, verdant lands and
mountains rearing into clean air.
Kueelo moved beside Curt and whispered, "No Tele-Magnum here, unless
_that's_ one!"
Curt followed his gaze. Lorine was unlocking a metal cabinet, but it
was definitely not a Tele-Magnum. A bank of curious power-tubes was
connected with sets of coils. The girl made several adjustments, the
tubes leaped into silver radiance and the coils sang a cadence that
ascended the scale beyond the audible.
Curt came over to watch. Then he stepped to a window. In the fog
overhead he noticed a fine-laced canopy of wires. They came alive now,
singing gently and sending down a power that dispelled the fog until
only a faint obscurant mist remained.
"How long do we stay here?"
"Only tonight. Tomorrow we trek into the Swamp, but we have to wait for
the Phibians."
"Phibians!" Curt stared at her.
"Creatures who live deep in the Swamp," she explained. "We couldn't get
to where we're going without them."
* * * * *
The station was stocked with food in plasti-sealed containers. They
prepared their meal over a tiny atomic stove, and it was a welcome
repast for the men from Mercury Prison! When they had finished, Lorine
lost little time in explaining the set-up. "Now that we're here, you
men have every right to know what to expect. Our task isn't easy! But
we have the protective suits and weapons, the Phibians are friendly and
will guide us part of the way." She moved with quick little strides
about the room, as if impatient even at this brief delay. "You, Rikert.
You're still anxious to see George Landreth?"
"Nothing I want more!"
"Then stay alive! That's all I ask of any of you--to stay alive." She
paused. "You have questions. I'll answer them."
Rikert asked the obvious question. "How do you know George Landreth is
here?"
"Because he built this Station! Jeffers and I found it here just as you
see it. And I have other proof."
"That's right," Jeffers nodded. "This Station is identical to the one
Landreth built at his secret base on Io. I was there with him a long
time, in fact I was second in command--" He hesitated.
"Go on," Lorine waved a hand. "Tell them the story."
"About three years ago," Jeffers said, "observers reported a strange
spaceship plunging in from the orbit of Pluto. Well, we watched it from
Io. And I can tell you this--it was travelling faster than anything we
had at the time--"
Curt recalled the event. Astronomers had found it difficult to keep the
strange object in sight. Some said it wasn't a spacer at all, but a
meteor. Jeffers' voice went on:
"When this thing neared Jupiter, the planet's gravity slowed it down.
We tried signalling it, but no answer. That's when Landreth determined
to go out and meet it! He was that kind of man! None of us wanted to
go with him--we'd braved many things in the spaceways, but this seemed
foolhardy. Landreth laughed at us. He would have gone alone, but
finally three of the men volunteered.
"They set out in the fastest cruiser we had--and they never came back.
I never saw Landreth again."
There was pounding excitement in Curt's brain. "I remember it now! This
ship, or whatever it was, escaped Jupiter's gravity. It accelerated
and plunged toward the sun. But you believe it crashed here, in the
K'Yarthan Swamp?"
"Crashed, or else Landreth brought it safely here. We know, now, that
he didn't die."
"My father escaped alive," Lorine nodded. "_Because I saw him once
shortly after this!_"