_In the Jungle_
They had progressed not more than twenty paces into the dense
undergrowth when the gleaming wall of the Tritu Anu was entirely hidden
from view. The artificial sunlight seeped through the mass of
vegetation overhead, a ghostly green twilight that made death masks of
their faces. But of the lights themselves, of the great latticed
columns, of the enormous sponge-like blossoms of the upper surface of
the jungle sea, nothing could be seen. They were deep in a tangled maze
of translucent flora that was like nothing so much as a forest of giant
seaweed transplanted from its natural element. The moss-like carpet
beneath their feet was slushy wet and condensed moisture rained
steadily from the matted fronds and tendrils above. The air they
breathed was hot and stifling; laden with rank odors and curling mists
that assailed throat and head passages with choking effect.
Weird whisperings there were from above and all about them. It seemed
almost that the uncanny, weaving green things were alive and voicing
indignant protest over the intrusion of the three humans.
Ankle deep in the rain-soaked moss, their clothing drenched and
steaming, they pressed ever deeper into the tangle. All sense of
direction was lost.
"Guess we'd better rest now," said Blaine, seeing that Ulana was
gasping from her exertions, "They'll never trail us here."
"How about this crystal thing--the searching ray?" Tommy ventured.
"It can not follow us," the girl explained, "Certain juices of the
plants provide an insulator against the ray. In fact, it was an extract
of these that was used in protecting the underground laboratory we just
left. We are safe now and I am very tired."
So that was the reason Tiedus had been so certain they would be safe in
the jungle! Blaine had wondered about that searching ray, and now
Ulana's statement had stilled his doubts. Poor kid--she was all in! Her
shoulders drooped and she leaned on his arm for support. His conscience
troubled him for having forced the pace in the difficult footing. They
need not have come so far in.
* * * * *
A glint of light through the close packed stems caught his eye;
something phosphorescent it was, shining there in the green twilight. A
giant mushroom! Towering seven feet from the ground, the great
umbrella-like top was aglow with sulphurous light on its under side.
And, beneath its ten foot spread, the mossy carpet was dry. An ideal
shelter. Here Ulana might find the rest she so sorely needed, and in
comparative comfort.
She curled up beside the huge stem and, half buried in warm, dry moss,
immediately fell asleep. The Earth men sat gazing solemnly at each
other; speechless. In the dim distance the roar of a monorail car rose
faintly at first, then grew louder and louder, only to fade away once
more into the whispering silence. A steady patter of jungle rain
drummed on the mushroom top.
"God!" Tommy muttered, after a while. "I'd give my right eye for a
cigarette."
"Me too." Blaine was hugging his knees, nodding drowsily. "A nice rare
steak with mushroom sauce wouldn't go so bad, either," he drawled.
"Aw, have a heart. I'm so sick of these vitamin pills of theirs I never
want to see one again."
"Yeah, but they're better than nothing. We haven't any of those even."
"Say!" Tommy jumped to his feet in sudden remembrance. "I saw a bush,
back there about fifty feet, with bunches of big red berries on it.
Like grapes, they looked. May be good to eat."
"Sure, they _may_ be. And then again they may be poison. We can't
take any chances like that. Leave 'em alone."
* * * * *
Tommy growled unintelligibly and fell to walking around their shelter
with nervous strides, keeping just within the dry area and glaring
savagely into the steaming jungle. Blaine smiled grimly. Nerves! Tommy
always was like that; always had to be on the go and doing something.
His own nerves were jumpy to-day. They were in hot water this time, for
sure. Had to keep on though; they were still alive, or at least half
alive; and the solar system was intact as yet. If only Tom Farley would
quit his infernal tramping!
"Cut it out!" Blaine snapped peevishly. "You'll have us both bughouse.
Can't you sit down and take it easy?"
Tommy stopped in his tracks. "Sorry, Blaine," he said. But he remained
standing, staring off into the jungle. Then, suddenly he exclaimed,
"Say, I'm going for some of those grapes, or whatever they are. I'll
bring a mess of them back and we can wait till Ulana wakes up. She'll
know whether they're poison or not."
"Oh, go ahead. But don't get yourself lost. Yell out if you can't find
us and I'll answer."
"Okay. Don't worry about me." And in three steps Tommy was swallowed up
in the undergrowth.
Blaine stole a glance at the girl and something caught at his throat.
God, she was beautiful! There must be some way of getting her out of
this mess. Dantor, perhaps, might show the way. He ought to be sending
that message soon--a mental one, Tiedus said. Poor kid, Tiedus; gone to
the happy hunting grounds now, no question of that. And he intended to
advise Dantor from the spirit world. As simple as that, it was. They
were game, these Rulans. Fatalists, though, and resigned to the
inevitable; hopeless. But a wonderful people in a rotten world.
Soon he felt his head droop and in a moment he began to doze.
When he awoke it was to the touch of Ulana's soft fingers on his arm.
"We are alone?" she asked.
"Lord!" he exclaimed, rising stiffly and rubbing the sleep from his
eyes. "How long have I napped? I shouldn't have."
A swift look around the small clearing disclosed the fact that Tommy
was missing. He shouldn't have let him go. A sudden panic gripped him.
"Tommy! Tommy!" he called out.
* * * * *
There was not even an echo in reply. Only the whispering of the jungle
overhead and all around them. His friend was gone.
"Ulana," he said, his voice trembling, "we _are_ alone. Farley is lost;
swallowed up in this terrible forest."
And then, suddenly, she was in his arms. Those wondrous blue eyes,
swimming in tears, looked into his own. Soft red lips, upturned, met
his lips; clung there.
"I am sorry, my Carson," she said softly, when he had released her:
"sorry that your good friend is lost. But perhaps," more brightly--"he
has but strayed away. When the mental message comes you will be
reunited. He will hear it as well as you."
Blaine shook his head. In his own heart he knew he would never see
Tommy again. He had wandered too close to the Tritu Anu and had been
overpowered by the green-bronze guards. Their ray pistols--he shuddered
at the thought.
"I have _you_ now, my Carson," the girl was saying. "Only you."
In a daze of pain and happiness intermingled, he knew he was holding
her close, drawing her fiercely to him. And then, raising dull eyes to
stare over the precious head and into the jungle that hid his friend,
he froze with horror.
A flat serpent head with wide slavering mouth and beady eyes swayed
there directly behind her. Pendant, it was, on a scaly and slimy length
of undulating body that coiled high above in the matted growths of the
jungle. As he watched, rooted to the spot, the great head drew back and
poised, vibrating, ready to strike.
* * * * *
In one quick movement he flung the girl aside and whipped out the ray
pistol he had taken from Pegrani. He pressed the release and a whirring
sound came from the little weapon. But no crackling blue flame sprang
forth to blast this creature into nothingness. Jumping aside, he was
thrown to the ground by its lashing body as the great snake struck and
missed.
But the pistol was useless. Short circuited by moisture, no doubt. He
crouched there, calling huskily to Ulana. She must run for it; force
her way into the thick undergrowth where the thing could not reach her.
She lay there, helpless with terror. Then, in a flash, she was on her
feet dashing to his side. God, the huge head was poised there again!
Pulsating! The glittering avid eyes upon them!
Instinctively Blaine raised the pistol just as the head darted
downward. The release clicked home. And, wonder of wonders, the blue
flame crackled spitefully. Exploding atoms, dazzling in the green
twilight. Mighty thrashings of the huge coils high up in the tangled
foliage. Crashing and tearing of great stems and rope-like tendrils.
But the enormous body was headless; a dead thing in the throes of its
final reflexes. Only the one charge had been spoiled; the little pistol
had served them well.
He drew Ulana into the thickest of the undergrowth for protection
against the tremendous lashing thing that crashed into the small
clearing where the giant mushroom grew. Their shelter was destroyed. He
must find another; he must be forever on guard over this girl whose
hand clung so confidently to his own as they wedged their way into the
thicket.
"Carson! Ulana!" A familiar voice rose above the whisperings of the
jungle. A voice familiar, yet unreal; supernatural; a calm, commanding
one that did not sound but echoed only in the consciousness.
"Hark!" Ulana gripped his hand more tightly. "Did you hear? It is
Dantor. The message Tiedus promised."
In awed silence they waited. A tiny ball of orange fire flamed suddenly
in the depths of the rushes directly before them. A sign!
"Ah, you are there!" the voice broke in. "I have your mental reactions.
You will follow the orange beacon to the Tritu Anu where I await your
coming. Be of good cheer, my children."
* * * * *
What magic was this? The science of the Rulans was beyond the
comprehension of the Earth man. Here was telepathy in its most perfect
form. Communications from the spirit plane; the orange flame--it was
all so utterly fantastic that Blaine had to look earnestly at the girl
to assure himself it was not a dream. She smiled confidently.
And the orange flame was moving off into the undergrowth. They must
follow its beckoning, flickering light.
It was a nightmare, that journey back through the jungle to the Tritu
Anu. Dantor must be in a fearful hurry, for the orange flame moved
swiftly. If they stopped a moment to rest it danced there impatiently,
then receded into the green shadows until they were forced to follow
for fear of losing it. Ulana's light robe was torn and sodden with
moisture. The perfectly rounded ivory shoulders, bare now, were
scratched and bleeding from contact with thorny protuberances that
covered some of the lighter reed-like stems.
But the brave girl was uncomplaining. She clung doggedly to the Earth
man's hand when they were able to walk erect: followed swiftly and
unquestioningly when they were compelled to crawl or wriggle through an
almost impenetrable thicket.
Once she cried out in alarm and Blaine turned back to see that the wiry
tendrils of a spiny, globular plant had wound themselves around her
slim body and held her fast. As he grasped her hand to draw her away,
others of the tendrils curled about his wrist and he too was
imprisoned. They burned the flesh, those writhing things, and tugged
mightily. Ulana screamed with the pain of the many that held her in
their tightening grasp.
* * * * *
It was alive, this thing that grew there, a huge ball with a thousand
stinging tentacles. A carnivorous plant. Even as the realization
flashed across his mind he saw that the spiny sphere was opening. Split
vertically, the two halves fell apart to disclose the steaming interior
whose walls were lined with sharp dagger-like projections a foot in
length. And the wiry tendrils were drawing them in!
Almost insane with horror, Blaine released the disintegrating energy of
the weapon he still carried in his free hand. Twice he pressed its
release and twice the searing blue flame spurted from the glass tube
that was its muzzle. Only a few charges remained now in the marvelous
weapon but once more it had served then well. The open-mouthed plant
monster vanished with the clearing of the blue vapor and the ensnaring
tendrils relaxed, falling from their bodies like so many loosened
cords. Blaine caught the swooning girl in his arms.
Half carrying her, he struggled on after the orange flare. The base of
one of the latticed supporting columns loomed vast in the eery twilight
gloom, and he leaned a moment against one of its vine-wrapped members.
The girl was exhausted and hung limp in his circling right arm. Still
the orange beacon danced on. If only Dantor would ease up a bit.
Couldn't he give them a little time?
* * * * *
On and on he staggered, ploughing through the sloppy footing and the
dripping clinging greens that were everywhere in his path. Slimy fronds
wrapped themselves around them, impeding his progress; clinging as if
they too were alive. The whispering silence closed in on them, vast and
mysterious. Menacing; awful....
And then he stumbled against a metallic wall. The curved side of the
Tritu Anu! His brain cleared and courage returned with a rush. The tiny
orange flame danced merrily, leading him along the wall toward the door
he knew was there.
Breathing easier now, his pace quickened as Dantor's guiding light
slithered along the gleaming wall. Sometimes it was almost hidden from
sight by the curvature of the welded plates and he was forced into a
jog trot to keep it in view.
Grimly, tenderly, he clung to the delectable creature whose soft body
drooped against him.
The door! The selfsame passage through which they had escaped opened
before him. Grateful even for this doubtful protection, he crossed the
threshold and trudged wearily along with his precious burden. Blindly
trusting in the miraculous powers of Dantor, he followed the orange
beacon which now seemed to smile cheerfully as it lighted his way
through the winding rock-walled tunnel.
Dazed and spent, he collapsed in the arms of the aged Rulan when he
reached the end of the passage.