"I know how a fly feels," gasped the girl. "I'll never wield another
swatter."
Pink had emptied his Colt. He tried reloading on the run, or rather, he
thought wryly, on the bounce, but it was a tricky job. And he had only
about a dozen shells left.
Circe shot another angry monster. If lead took just two seconds longer
to work on those immense systems, Pink realized, he and Circe would have
been squashed long since. They had fought down half the hall, past three
of the triple entrances, and now there was only one to check on. If
Daley and Jerry weren't there, they might as well give up; the ship
would go scattering into the void in about five minutes.
They had to watch backwards as well as before them. The giants were
nearly all in motion now, the milling of such throngs of them having
caught the vacant stares of those who had been gaping at nothing.
And suddenly there was Daley, standing before them and holding the limp
spacesuited form of Jerry Jones in his arms. "Hey, Pink," he said, "down
here."
Pinkham blasted two foemen in the hands as they grasped for him. "Like
fighting giant redwoods," said Circe indistinctly, panting. They joined
the two officers, jumping and digging in their heels to halt sharply.
"We have to make for that," said Pink, waving across the grotto at the
invisible hole which led to the plain. "Straight through these dam Alps
of aliens." He shot over Circe's head. "How you feeling?"
"Little rocky," said Daley.
"Take the Colt, then." He shoved it into the lieutenant's hand and
hoisted Jerry like a rag out of Daley's arms. "Come on," he barked. "And
don't get slapped. That's an order." He ran.
Their combined chest-lamps beamed out a couple of miles as they headed
for the home stretch. Across the light passed the giant djinn, moving to
waylay them, standing mountain-steady to intercept. Circe rocketed into
the lead and led them on a zigzag course that avoided the vast parodies
of human feet which barred the way like river dams.
They had had uncanny luck thus far. Why? Probably the giants were
sluggish from long inactivity. Too, Pink knew, it's hard to hit a small
darting object that's not more than one-one-hundred-and-sixty-sixth of
your size. And the lead slugs of their guns had turned many sure
captures into escapes.
But now the guns were empty.
"Feet," said Pink, quoting an ancient joke, "feet, do your stuff!"
Circe was amazing, dodging and pirouetting and even hurdling the gross
feet when they couldn't be side-stepped. Pink gamely followed her lead,
Jerry now slung over his shoulder. There was panting in his ears--Daley
must be having tough going. Then he recognized the deep wheezing
breaths: they were his own.
"Daley?" he gasped.
"Right behind you, Pink."
The mouth of their corridor was in sight. Then there were djinn, a row
of them standing side by side with feet firmly planted to make a
barrier. My God, he thought, this is it! Circe vanished, he did not see
where. The feet were there, and arms reaching down for him. He pitched
sideways, flipped by a questing finger; crashed on his shoulder, rolled,
still miraculously hanging onto Jerry. The brashest course was the only
one. He gathered himself and jumped onto a toe. It was as hard as the
rock. And this thing, he said irrelevantly in his mind, this massive
piece of solidity can vaporize into a gin bottle! He slid down the toe
and scuttled ratlike under the lofty legs and was in the clear. The
tunnel, itself an astoundingly high cave, appeared directly before him.
There was no time now to look for Circe and Daley, vital though their
safety was to him. He carried Jerry into the tunnel and loped with
multiyarded strides for the plain. He could not see any lamp-glare but
his own. But he could not stop. Humanity in that instant overcame all
his private desires. There were fifty-eight souls who would be blotted
out if he didn't make the _Elephant's Child_ in two minutes. Sixty-one,
if you counted Daley and Circe and Pink himself. In less than one of
those minutes he had traversed the tunnel and come out above the plain.
The ship was still there. Some distance away from it stood the big trap,
and even yet giants were speeding toward it from all points of the
compass. Pink gasped a breath and launched himself out and down the
steep hillside. He took it all in that one jump. As he was landing, a
curiously weightless man on this tiny planetoid, Jerry came to life and
writhed suddenly in his arms, upsetting his balance. Pink fell and his
left ankle shrieked with pain as it turned under him and was smashed
into the gray rock by his dropping body and Jerry's.
He sprawled full length and knew his ankle was broken or sprained. Jerry
rolled free and collapsed, sighing into his radio. Pink tried to stand
and the ankle buckled. Horrified, he looked at his glove watch.
He had seventy seconds.