The Race Through Space
Immediately the Earthman set himself to the task of examining everything
in his prison. But as he had expected, there was little or nothing to
discover. The walls which his tether permitted him to reach were all
perfectly smooth and solid. He realized with a sheepish grin that it had
been foolish of him to even dare to hope that they would be otherwise.
The chain fastened to the fetter was quite adequate to hold him. The
window, even if it might have been used as an avenue of escape, was
securely fastened with bolts, so that it would have taken a man equipped
with a heavy set of wrenches, an hour to remove it. To shatter the
flexible pane was next to an impossibility. The table was firmly welded
to the floor. Beyond the table, Shelby could not go, for the chain
prevented him. But he was quite sure that there was nothing movable in
the entire room massive enough to be used as a tool or weapon.
He slumped down on his bunk, and let one hand rest on a small power-pipe
which ran along the wall and up to the illumination globe above. For a
minute dejection almost got a firm grip on him. But he fought it off.
This was no time to give up. Why, the struggle hadn't even started yet!
Shelby felt a faint vibration of the power-pipe under his hand. For a
considerable time the impressions had been coming to him, but they had
scarcely penetrated into his consciousness. They seemed no more
significant than the hundred and one little noises and disturbances that
go with the running of any space ship. Presently however, the regular
sequence of the pulsations attracted his attention. Something made him
think of the almost obsolete Morse code. Then the realization came to
him. Someone in another room on he ship was tapping on the
power-pipe--signaling--signaling him! He spelled the word
out--A-u-s-t-i-n, repeated over and over again.
His first thought was of Jan. It must be she who was calling him for
there was no one else.
Quickly, with his heavy signet ring, he tapped out an answer: "It is I,
Jan, A. S. shoot--"
With tensed muscles, and with fingers firmly clutching the power-pipe
that he might not miss a single signal, Shelby crouched, receiving the
message. Somehow there was an urgency, an insistence, an appeal about
those hurried pulsations that no human voice could have conveyed. It was
fantastically like communicating with one who is buried alive.
"We must escape not later than five hours from now," the tapping
spelled. "You have been unconscious for a long time--drugged. In five
hours we land on Mars. Then escape will be impossible.
"Hekki has told me much, and I have seen much. The horrors that are
Selba's henchmen--three times some of them came to the ship, once in a
band of over a hundred. Hekki is worried. He has not troubled me yet.
Too busy I suppose. I have tried to make believe that I agree to his
plans. I thought I could control him that way. But he has been taking
the Elar drug.
"We must escape, Austin. We must! Can't you think of a way? I will help!
If they get you to the concentration base in the Taraal they will
torture you. And we must remember our homeland!"
The hurrying vibrations ceased, and then, almost before he knew what he
was doing, Shelby was tapping out an answer promising the impossible.
"Never fear, dearest," he signaled. "Just let me think for a few
minutes." A moment later this phrase almost made him laugh. The sap hero
of a comedy which had recently been broadcast over the radio-view had
said almost these exact words. Think? Of what? Escape within five hours?
How? But Jan's appeal sent in such an odd way had an almost magical
effect on him, and made his brain work harder almost than ever before.
And then the ghost of an idea came. There was a chance that it would
work. He signaled to Jan, and then for half an hour, they put their
heads together--planning.
Somewhat nervous, Shelby walked to the door and hammered loudly upon it.
A thin-faced slave whose hide was burned by desert suns to the color of
mahogany, appeared almost immediately.
Shelby answered his inquiring look briefly: "I would speak to your
master," he said in Pagari--"right away." The slave nodded and reclosed
the door.
In excited impatience the Earthman waited. Now and then he tapped short
messages of encouragement to Jan. Would Hekalu never come? The strain of
suspense was not exactly pleasant. Finally, unable to contain himself
any longer, he rose from the bunk where he had been reclining in
readiness for the first move of the coup he was planning, and began to
pace the floor.
He chanced to glance out of the window. On the railed walk beyond, a man
clad in space armor was bending over a small portable case which was
supported on a tripod. Shelby surmised correctly that this man was
Hekalu Selba.
Beside him, paying close attention to whatever the Martian was doing,
stood the black Alkebar. The Earthman frowned in puzzlement, almost in
awe. For Hekki's weird companion wore nothing that would be of the least
help in protecting him from interplanetary cold and lack of air
pressure. Not even an oxygen helmet! And yet, as the monster examined
interestedly, every dial and switch that Hekalu touched, he showed not
the slightest hint of discomfort. The airless emptiness of space seemed
home to him. How could such things be? A strange thrill tingled and
vibrated along Shelby's spine when he realized how alien was Alkebar.
There was no kinship between him and the creatures of either Earth or
Mars.
Presently Hekki looked up, and as though moved by some intuitive
realization that he was being watched, turned awkwardly in his
cumbersome attire, and glanced along the row of portholes in the side of
the vessel. He saw the Earthman and smiled at him. Shelby felt that it
was the kind of smile which a tolerant father might show to his youngest
son. Hekalu waved his hand, and his lips, behind the glazed front of the
helmet, formed several words which Shelby could not interpret. Then the
Martian returned his attention to his apparatus.
* * * * *
When Selba entered his prisoner's room some moments later, he found him
lounging on the bunk.
The Martian looked enquiringly at Shelby. "You have reached some
conclusion, my friend?" he asked.
Without changing his position on the bunk the young man nodded. There
was an expression of dejection and sullen resignation on his face which
he was trying hard, above the intense excitement which possessed him, to
make realistic. Still acting the part he spoke: "Yes, Akar Hekalu," he
said between teeth that were apparently gritted with rage, "I have
decided to reveal to you the secret of the Atomic Ray."
A triumphant gleam came into the Martian's eyes. "Ah, my friend," he
said, "you at last see the light. I knew that you would. But what has
been the cause for this sudden change in attitude? The torture chamber,
perhaps?" There was an undercurrent of suspicion in Hekalu's voice.
Shelby turned his head sullenly away, feigning shame. He said nothing. A
minute passed during which time Hekalu stared at his captive, a sardonic
smirk of contempt curling his thin coral lips.
Finally he said, "I will have Koo Faya bring you writing materials, and
you will describe in writing every detail of the manufacture of the
missing element."
"No," replied Shelby, turning his face toward the Martian, "I haven't
the ability to do that. It will be necessary for you to take me to the
laboratory of the ship where I can demonstrate the process to you. It is
much too delicate and complicated."
The noble's eyes wavered slightly. "Once," he said, "you tried to trick
me, but I warn you that I am on guard now so do not attempt it again."
He signed to Alkebar who had been standing silently beside the open
door. The giant drew a key from a pouch at his side, and kneeling,
unlocked the fetter fastened about Shelby's ankle. It rattled to the
floor. And at the same time the Earthian, leaning back on the bunk with
arms stretching over his head, tapped sharply three times with his
signet ring on the power-pipe. It seemed to be only an unconscious
gesture--nervousness perhaps.
Immediately there was a terrific crash from down the passage way,
followed by an agonized scream. Another crash. More screams.
Hekalu started, and then making a hurried gesture to Alkebar which
indicated that he was to guard the inventor of the Atomic Ray, he drew
his automatic and dashed down the corridor to investigate the
disturbance. The Earthman however, was in no mood to be guarded. No
longer shackled, he leaped to his feet and over to the center of the
room. The great voiceless beast from the stars stood before the doorway
with his long arms outstretched. He was not trying to capture the
Earthman--only seeking to block his path.
But Shelby had no time to waste. Gathering himself together, he hurtled
straight for the ankles of his opponent. The fact that the artificial
gravity of the ship was of the same strength as that of Mars--only a
trifle more than one-third that of Earth--added to the effectiveness of
his plunge. The mighty-muscled Alkebar, puzzled by the unheard-of
tactics of his agile though vastly weaker foe, suddenly found himself in
a sprawling heap on the floor. Shelby leaped over him through the door,
slammed it, and raced precipitately down the corridor.
In the meantime Hekalu Selba had reached Janice Darell's room, but when
he had unlocked it and had thrust his head inside to see what the matter
was, a heavy urn, deftly aimed, had crashed full into his face. Shelby
saw him sprawling in the passage badly dazed, and a split second later
Jan dashed from her cabin. She looked around, and when she saw Shelby
coming swiftly toward her she flashed him a quick smile of triumph.
But Alkebar had wrenched the portal of the Earthman's recent prison
open, and was in hot pursuit. He was tugging frantically at the pistol
in his belt.
"Run, Jan, quick!--To the control room!" Austin shouted.
He caught up Hekki's automatic which had dropped from the Martian's
grasp when he had fallen, and wheeling, fired at the black colossus. The
bullet struck Alkebar's right hand with which he was raising his pistol.
The tough natural armor which covered the monster from head to foot
prevented it from doing any serious damage, but it must have stung
badly, for his weapon clattered to the floor. While he was stooping to
recover it, Shelby hurried forward to catch up with Jan. It was but a
few yards to the control room. If they could get there, overcome whoever
was in charge and barricade themselves in, they could master the ship!
Their luck had been good, but it was not destined to be as good as that.
They caught but a brief glimpse of the bewildering array of switches,
dials and levers, that constituted the brain-center of the craft.
Standing on guard before his instrument panels was the mahogany-colored
slave Koo Faya. He was half crouching, at bay. There was a murderous
light in his eyes, and he held leveled in his hands a light machine
gun. Shelby's automatic was leveled too, and he pressed his trigger an
instant before the Martian. Four bullets whizzed into the control room,
splattering close about the thin mummy-like body of Koo Faya. A glass
globe that glowed redly on the top of a complicated mechanism, was
struck and burst with a popping sound. A rose-colored vapor floated
ceiling-ward.
* * * * *
Simultaneously Koo Faya's weapon began to whir. Then, even as Shelby
jerked Jan back out of danger, the wild shriek of an alarm siren mingled
with the discordant clashing jangle of ungoverned machinery running
amuck, rang through the ship, and the huge metal cigar pitched and
careened like a frightened thing.
Alkebar, having recovered his pistol, was staggering down the passage
shooting rapidly. But owing to the crazy motion of the space flier his
missiles were momentarily not taking effect.
Austin and Jan knew that Koo Faya was leaping to a position where he
could shoot his poisoned darts at them again. What now? Cornered? No!
Janice Darell wrenched open a door in the side of the passage and shoved
Shelby into the tiny room beyond.
In the opposite wall of the closet was a round dark opening. "The
emergency flier," Jan shouted. "Into it!"
As quickly as they could they climbed through into the submarine-like
interior beyond. Fighting to keep themselves erect, they slammed the
heavy duralumin portal to and fastened it. Alkebar was already groping
on the opposite side. But he was too late.
Shelby leaped to the control panel and cut the electric current from the
magnets that held the emergency flier anchored to its mother ship. It
floated, free from the careening hulk. Its rocket motors roared into
life.
The occupants of the tiny craft looked back at the _Selba_. It had
ceased its mad motions now, and was hanging quietly in space. Evidently
Koo Faya had succeeded in righting matters to some slight extent at
least. Would he be able to patch things up entirely? The red globe could
be replaced in half an hour. It would be that length of time at least
before the _Selba_ could engage in pursuit.
But the arm of a space ship, equipped with weapons commonly used in the
void, is long. Hence Austin Shelby considered it his first duty to put
as much distance between his craft and Hekalu's ship as possible.
Still four million miles away, Mars glowed--a tiny red disc; and he
headed toward her giving the flier full freedom to do its best. The
fiery vapors fairly tore from the rocket nozzles.
With one hand in readiness on the control lever, which resembled in
appearance and operation the joystick of an airplane, and his feet on
the bar used for steering in a lateral plane, he kept his eyes fixed on
the receding bulk behind. Jan had handed him one of the two pairs of
binoculars which she had just found in the supply compartment.
Austin knew what to expect from the direction of the _Selba_, and it
came well within schedule. A flash of green fire spurted from the
foredeck of the ship. It showed up with startling vividness against the
jeweled sable of the void.
Abruptly Shelby drew the control lever back. In response to his movement
the rocket nozzles, now deflected from alignment with the central axis
of the craft, sent it into a steep climb. The terrific angular
acceleration seemed intent on forcing the two fugitives straight through
the metal floor. It drew the blood from their faces and made them grow
pale and giddy. But they escaped being struck by the torpedo.
It exploded a hundred yards beneath the flier's keel. Fragments of it
banged against the hull. In rapid succession other flashes darted from
the _Selba_, which had dwindled to a silvery speck far to the rear. But
still those missiles, directed by incredibly delicate sighting
mechanisms, and hurled at almost the speed of light, continued to score
remarkably close to their target.
If it had not been such an elusive target they most certainly would have
blasted it to fragments. But Shelby, skilled as were most of the men of
his time, in the handling of small space craft, was able to endow his
flier with much of the agility of an alarmed dragon fly. Darting,
weaving, zigzagging, yet always keeping its general course fixed toward
Mars, it careened away. Always it was ringed by an aura of green
flashes.
However, good fortune is seldom perfect. The tempered duralumin plates
of the flier managed to withstand the force of all of the torpedo
fragments which showered them--with one exception. One dart from
Hekalu's ship exploded barely fifty feet to the right of the fugitive
craft, and a flying chunk of steel sent it pitching and tumbling through
the ether.
When the two bruised occupants had regained their equilibrium they heard
a faint hissing above the roar of rockets. They knew that there was but
slight chance that the _Selba_ could do them any further harm, for
though the torpedoes continued to come, the distance between the two
vessels was now so great that a damaging shot was almost an
impossibility. Nevertheless, the present situation was serious enough. A
leak!
Fixing the nose of the flier toward the Red Planet, and locking the
controls, Shelby left the pilot's seat to determine the extent of the
damage, while Jan searched the supply compartment for something with
which to repair it. There was a deep dent in one of the ceiling plates
and a thin wriggly crack through the center of it--not an easy job to
patch that out in space under the best of circumstances.
The young man whistled when he saw how near they had come to a hideous
death. Several times he had seen the bodies of men who had been suddenly
exposed to the pressureless airless cold of the outer void--hideous
bloated things through whose skin the livid blood had forced its way.
"Any luck, Jan," he asked, looking back at his companion. "Did you find
some cement?"
She shook her head.