I didn't have to do it, Pink thought. I could have changed the orders
when I saw that no giants were in sight. We could have blasted the one
on top of the _Elephant's Child_ and taken off and got out of range of
'em and gone back to Earth. We were free in that instant, when Daley
caught the alien and corked it up in the lead bottle with the liquor
that drew it. We shouldn't have come out here to the caves. We should
have left Oasis to itself.
He knew that he had squelched this idea before it was born, because he
had longed for a good fight; he recognized this alien life-form as
unclean, and he'd wanted to stamp it out, or make a dent in its numbers
anyway. So he'd gone ahead with the project, and now here was Circe,
risking her life to be with him, and if anything happened to her he'd
kill himself ... well, at least he'd mop up the giants who'd drawn him
here, he'd make a pogrom, a massacre to avenge her....
She isn't dead, boy, he told himself. She's just in danger. Don't get
distracted.
"Stick close," he told her shortly. "I'll whale the pants off you when
we get back for this trick, but for now, stay close and keep your eyes
open."
Then he tuned his radio outward. "Report," he said. His men checked in.
Nothing had been sighted thus far.
So it was Captain Pinkham's luck to meet the first alien.
Rounding a turn, he saw that the cavern enlarged, became a huge grotto;
seated around its walls, staring at one another in the uncanny silence
of this airless place, were many of the giant life-forms. Only one was
near him, and this monster was first to see him; it leaped at him with
the abruptness of perfect muscular control, its feet a little off the
floor of the cavern--Pink recalled that these things could levitate
themselves in space.
There was no time to use the lure of the bottle. He threw up his old
revolver and fired point-blank, catching Circe by the arm and hurling
her to one side as he did so. The giant recoiled as at a wall, doubled
and thrashed in agony. Pink, rooted to the spot, waited to see the
effects. Would one slug of lead be enough? And evidently it was, for
suddenly the thing fell and writhed futilely on the ground, flinging its
arms wide with diminishing strength. In a moment it was helpless, its
only motion a slight heaving as its life retreated far within the
gigantic bulk. Its red eyes glowed at him malevolently in the glare of
his chest-lamp.
Strangely enough, none of the others had seen him yet, nor had any of
them moved from the sitting posture. Swiftly he unhooked four of his six
bottles and set them in a row on the rock floor. Circe returned, having
bounced like a bit of india-rubber a dozen yards before checking
herself. "You big bully," she said over the radio, and, her tuning being
for distance, Daley in another cave said "What? Who?" in a startled
tone.
Pink dragged her, five pounds of resistance on the tiny planet, and
plunked her down behind a rock. "Sit tight," he said urgently. "Keep the
gun handy. And check that you haven't spilled any alky--we'll need all
the bottles we can get." Then he turned and shone his beam full on the
traps he had set out. One of the aliens was bound to spot them soon.
When one did, it came at them with a rush, snarling soundlessly as it
sought the source of the illumination. Towering over the insignificant
bottles, it halted, shuddered, stared down--Pink held his breath--and
the incredible disintegration and flow of the body happened. The giant
entered the bottle, leaving not a trace of its thousand-foot carcass
outside. Restraining a desire to leap out and cork up that bottle, Pink
waited. The movement of this alien had caught the red eyes of others;
they advanced, some hurrying and some cautious, till two more had
scented or sensed the alcohol and poured into bottles. Pink kept his
eyes on the little containers. Beside him, Circe gazed with horrified
fascination at the coming gargantuas....
* * * * *
A trio of them were misting now; this was the test. One empty bottle
remained. What would happen, Pink wondered; was one giant per bottle the
maximum content? The three streaked down, like smoke sucked into a
vacuum cleaner. They jetted into the bottles, and again nothing was left
outside. Pink said "Good," in a mutter, and forced himself to wait
longer. The more the merrier. How long would it take them to soak up the
alcohol? His captive had said the process was slow. How slow? How long
did he dare wait?
He caught eight more, then the next hesitated, looking around for the
source of light. Either he was capable of more resistance to the
seductive element, or the bottles were now full of churning, lapping
aliens. There were more of them approaching, but he didn't dare wait any
longer. He jumped forward, potting at the foremost.
It went down thrashing, and he shot over it into the yellow of them.
Emptying the Colt, he reloaded hastily and plugged or nicked another
half dozen. By then he was standing over the bottles. Nothing had
emerged yet. He stooped to slam on the caps.
With horrible speed two giants pounced for him; he saw them out of the
corner of his eye. Then they slammed full length to the rock, and he
knew that Circe's automatic was in action. He corked the last bottle and
slung it on his belt, put down the two remaining containers. Then he
turned and made a mighty jump away from them, dragging Circe with him.
The aliens came on.
Some of them could withstand the pull of the liquor, and some could not.
There was a phalanx of them coming, for a good third of the growth's
population had seen the disturbance by now. Any who appeared to be
passing by the bottles, he and Circe shot; those who hesitated by them
and were drawn in exchanged their liberty for their lives, because in
two minutes Pinkham had feverishly capped them into the leaden prisons.
He hooked them onto his belt and said into the mouthpiece before his
lips, "Go for the entrance, baby. I'll cover you."
"No!" she snapped back. "You are not going to sacrifice--"
"Sacrifice, nuts!" he yelled. "This is part of the plan you'd have heard
if you hadn't sneaked into the landing party at the last minute. Get
going!" He was reloading as he spoke.
She ran, almost flying down the cave-tunnel with great leaps that
covered many yards each. He fired three times at the giants who now
loomed above him; then he was running too, stretching his legs and
throwing every ounce of power and panic in his frame into the incredible
jumps. And apparently he had the advantage over the brutes, for he began
to outdistance them; their mass being greater, he was helped by the lack
of gravity.
Then a rock crumbled under his toe, he was thrown off balance, his
momentum shot him full tilt against the wall of the passage, and his
head cracked sharply against the inside of his helmet. He knew that he
was losing consciousness, and that he had fallen and was rolling
straight into the path of the raging aliens.