Thamon nodded. "I'm at your disposal, Centurion."

Dynamon led the way down the little stair and into the compartment that

served as his office. Once there, he threw off his long military cloak

and sat down at a little table, his great bronzed shoulders gleaming in

the soft artificial light.

"I suppose the first question," said Thamon, sitting down opposite the

centurion, "is whether to institute suspended animation on board?"

"I think we'd better, don't you?" said Dynamon.

"It would save a lot of food and oxygen," the scientist replied. "You

see, even at our tremendous rate of speed now, it will take two hundred

and twenty-six days to reach the outer layer of Saturn's atmosphere.

Until we actually land the ship, there is no conceivable emergency that

couldn't be handled by a skeleton crew."

"Quite right," said Dynamon. "I'll have Mortoch take charge of the

arrangements, if you will stand by to supervise the technical side."

"It's as good as done," said Thamon. "We have the newest type of

refrigeration system in the main saloon. I can drop the temperature one

hundred and fifty degrees in one-fifth of a second. By the way, I was a

little worried by that outburst of Mortoch's when we were talking about

Keltry."

"Oh, well," said Dynamon, "Mortoch is only human. He was a Senior

Decurion and I was passed over him for this job. He couldn't help but

be a little jealous. But he will be all right, he's a soldier, after

all."

"I hope so," said Thamon, doubtfully.

"Why certainly," Dynamon affirmed. "As a matter of fact, I wish he had

been given the command in the first place. Between you and me, I'm

not too keen about this expedition to a comparatively unknown planet.

Thamon, why on earth weren't human beings content to stay at home? Why

did they have to go to such endless pains to construct these Cosmos

Carriers? Before these things were invented, the inhabitants of Earth

and the inhabitants of Mars didn't know that each other existed, and

they were perfectly happy about it. But when they both began spinning

around through space between the planets, all of a sudden the Solar

System was not big enough to hold both Peoples."

"It's some fatal restlessness in the make-up of human beings," Thamon

replied. "Do you realize how far back Man has been trying to reach out

to other planets?"

"Well, the first successful trip in a Cosmos Carrier was made

seventy-eight years ago," said Dynamon.

Thamon chuckled.

"As far as we _know_, that was the first successful trip," the

scientist corrected. "As a matter of fact, the first Cosmos Carrier was

anticipated hundreds of years ago. Just the other day in the library,

I found a very interesting account of an archaeological discovery made

up in North Central 3A--the island that the ancients called Britain. A

complete set of drawings and building plans was found in an admirable

state of preservation. The date on the plans was 1956, and as you will

remember from your school history, all of North Central by that time

had been terribly ravaged by the wars. The inventor, whose name was

Leonard Bolton, called his contrivance a 'space ship.' Wonderful, those

old names, aren't they? But the most remarkable thing of all, is, that

the designs for that 'space ship' were very practical. If the man ever

had a chance to build one, which he probably didn't, it might very well

have been a successful vehicle."

"That's very interesting," said Dynamon. "Were there any clues as to

what happened to Leonard Bolton?"

"None at all," the scientist replied. "All we know about him is that

he designed the 'space ship' and then was presumably blotted out by

the savage weapons used in the warfare of those days. But, as I say,

the remarkable thing is that when we got around to building a Cosmos

Carrier eighty years ago, we were able to use several of Leonard

Bolton's ideas. Which all goes to show, I suppose, there's nothing new

under the sun."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Dynamon with a smile. "I've an idea

that we're going to bump into several things new to us on the planet

Saturn."

"As to that," Thamon nodded, "I shouldn't be surprised if you are

right. Now I suppose I'd better go and make arrangements for the

refrigeration job. Will Mortoch be responsible for providing each

individual with a hypodermic and return-to-life tablets?"

"That will be taken care of," said Dynamon. "I'll see you later."

* * * * *

Dynamon stood beside Borion in the control room, staring fascinatedly

at the periscope screens. The images that were reflected in the six

panels made up a composite scene that was awe-inspiring and fearsome.

The great Cosmos Carrier was finally arriving at the end of its seven

months' journey. In front of the Earthcraft, a vast, barren expanse,

uniformly dark gray in color spread for thousands of miles. To one side

of the Carrier a wide belt of mist and shimmering particles stretched

upward from the planet out toward space. Dynamon realized that this was

a small section of the great ring encircling Saturn, that could be seen

in the powerful telescopes from Earth. Glancing at the stern vision

screens, Dynamon saw the sun twinkling. So far away it was now, that it

was hardly bigger than a large star and gave off not much more light.

Even though they were coming to Saturn in the middle of a Saturnian

day, there was no more than a gloomy half-light to illumine their way.

"Saturn revolves on its axis with such speed," observed Borion, "that

I should imagine there will be tremendous prevailing winds on the

surface. I think I can see a range of steep mountains down there; it

might not be a bad idea if we landed in the lee of them."

"Yes," agreed Dynamon, "I think that would be a good idea. As a matter

of fact, we may have to dig below the surface entirely to prevent being

blown away. How is the gravitation pull?"

"It's a curious thing," Borion replied. "It should be tremendous but

the centrifugal force is so strong that it counterbalances to a certain

extent. The ship is handling very easily."

"How soon do you think we'll make the surface?" said Dynamon.

"I should estimate somewhere around six hours from now," the navigator

answered. "I could make it sooner but I'm feeling my way."

"That suits me," said Dynamon. "That will give us just time to turn off

the refrigeration and bring our people back to life. Lucky devils to be

able to sleep through this trip--have you ever been so bored in your

life?"

"Never," agreed Borion. "But I am not bored now."

Dynamon walked across the control room and threw a large switch in the

wall panel.

"Decurion Mortoch and Scientist Thamon," he said into the loud-speaker

system. "Proceed at once to remove the suspension-of-life condition

in the main saloon. As soon as everyone is revived, stand by to take

landing stations."

As the centurion closed the switch and turned away, Borion called him

over again to the periscope screens.

"That _is_ a range of mountains," said the navigator. "I can see it

more clearly now. I think I'll slow up our descent a little bit so

that by the time we're ready to land it will be midday again. As you

probably know, Saturn makes a complete revolution in only a little more

than ten hours."

"That sounds sensible," said Dynamon. "We'll need all the light we can

get to make a safe landing."

Borion nodded and reached toward the repellor lever. He pushed it

gently forward and then looked at his altimeter. He seemed to be

dissatisfied with the altimeter reading and pushed forward the

repellor lever a little more. Then he looked again at the altimeter,

and an expression of bewilderment came over his face. With a muttered

exclamation he jammed the repellor lever as far ahead as it would go,

at the same time watching the altimeter. Dynamon sensed that something

was wrong as he watched the color drain out of the navigator's face.

"The Saints preserve us!" the navigator cried hoarsly. "Something has

gone terribly wrong--the repellor isn't working! We're dropping at a

frightful rate of speed--!"

Borion leapt to the loud-speaker system and issued rapid orders to the

navigating engineers.

"What's going to happen to us?" Dynamon demanded.

"I don't know," Borion said, his face ashen. "I think it is just a

simple mechanical failure in the controls from the repellor lever down

to the magnets. I don't know how soon my workers can discover the

trouble and repair it. In the mean time--"

"In the mean time," Dynamon broke in gloomily, "we may all be spattered

all over that gray landscape."

"Either that," Borion gritted, "or we burn to a crisp from the

atmospheric friction. I can feel it getting warmer in here already."

* * * * *

Dynamon fought down the sickening sensation of panic that was starting

to creep over him.

"How long do you think we have got?" he said with an effort.

"At the most," said Borion staring, white lipped, at the altimeter, "at

the most, I should say a half an hour."

The door to the control room burst open and Thamon rushed in closely

followed by Keltry.

"I heard you talking to your engineers, Borion," the scientist said

rapidly. "Are we in trouble?"

"We are," said Borion, "and it may be the last trouble any of us ever

have. Our repellor has gone out for some reason. And we're heading for

the surface of Saturn like a meteorite."

"Can't anything be done?" said Thamon.

"My engineers are doing all they can to find the source of the

trouble," Borion replied. "But until they do, I can't slow the ship up."

Keltry's great brown eyes were enormous as she moved over beside

Dynamon and took his right hand in hers.

"As long as I'm with you, Dynamon," she said in a low voice, "I'm not

afraid to die. But I hate to see your expedition fail. Perhaps the fate

of the Earth depends on us here in this Carrier."

"I know," said Dynamon, squeezing her hand. His eyes followed Borion as

the navigator went to the loud-speaker system again. But apparently the

news from below was not encouraging, and Borion's shoulders sagged as

he turned to face the other three people in the control room.

"They haven't found the source of the trouble yet," he said dully,

"and there's not a thing to be done until they do. I'm sorry that, as

navigator of this Carrier, I am plunging you all to your death. But

it's a case of a simple mechanical failure which I couldn't foresee."

Keltry stepped forward impulsively and laid her hand on the navigator's

wrist.

"Nobody could blame you, Borion," she said gently. "It isn't your fault

if the attractor or the repellor lever, whichever it is, gets broken.

You are already--"

"Wait a minute!" Borion shouted, eyes darting out of his head. "The

attractor! In my excitement I forgot!"

The navigator leapt to the control levers, spun the dial and put his

hand on the attractor lever.

"If--I'm only--on time!" he muttered agonizedly. "It's just

possible--the counter-attraction of Jupiter--Lord it's hot!"

The control room was silent as death as the navigator eased the

attractor lever carefully forward. Dynamon whipped a glance at the

periscope screens. The ground was rushing up at a terrific rate, and

out behind the Carrier, a dense cloud of black smoke was forming. The

veins were standing out in Borion's forehead as he inched the attractor

lever forward. The girl and the two men watched him with bated breath

as he slowly raised his eyes to the altimeter. A wild incredulous

expression appearing on the navigator's face.

"_It's--it's working!_" Borion muttered hoarsly, "_the attractor beam

from Jupiter is slowing us up!_"

* * * * *

Dynamon's heart leapt and he sprang back to the periscope screens.

The column of smoke behind them was still there but it seemed to be

thinning out. But the surface of Saturn seemed to be rushing upward

just as fast as ever. Dynamon twisted his head around to look at

Borion. A feverish smile was lighting up the navigator's face as he

pressed forward on the attractor lever.

"We may just make it!" he breathed, and Dynamon said a little prayer.

In the screen a range of dark gray mountains stood out in bold relief

and seemed to reach claw-like peaks toward the speeding Carrier. But

the smoke had ceased to whip past, and only a small black cloud far

behind served to remind Dynamon of the fearful friction that the

surface of the ship had been subjected to. At the same time Dynamon

felt an invisible force dragging him toward the front bulkhead of the

control room, and he knew that the Carrier was slowing up its forward

speed. Through the bow periscopes the jagged range of mountains seemed

so close that Dynamon almost felt he could reach out and touch them.

Miraculously, they rose up to one side of the ship. A moment later a

voice sounded in the loud-speaker system.

"The magnet room calling the navigator. A break in the control shaft

has been discovered and repaired. Throw the repellor lever into neutral

and then advance it."

Borion gave a little sob, flicked back the repellor and then pushed

it forward again. The floor of the control room heaved for a minute

and then settled on an even keel, Dynamon stared unbelievingly at the

starboard midship's periscope screens and saw that the great Carrier

was resting immobile not more than twenty feet above the gray soil of

Saturn.

"Saved!" cried Borion hysterically, "and it was Keltry who did it! In

my excitement I would have let all of us plunge to our death, if Keltry

hadn't reminded me that there was such a thing as an attractor lever!

Dynamon, Thamon, we should get down on our knees and thank our stars

that Keltry was in here!"

The door of the control room opened and Mortoch stepped in.

"Do you have to toss us around like that?" the lean decurion said. "I

had a near-panic on my hands with some of those people just coming out

of their suspended animation. Oh!--" Mortoch smiled ironically--"I

begin to see why we had such a rough passage. If beautiful stowaways

are given the run of the control room, I should imagine it would be

hard for the navigator to keep his mind on his work."

Borion started forward with a snarl but Dynamon's voice cracked like a

whip.

"Attention! Both of you! Try and remember that you are modern,

civilized men, not twentieth century brutes."

Borion's hands fell to his sides, and he began to laugh.

"You're absolutely right, Dynamon," he said, "I don't know why I should

let myself be annoyed by this crude soldier. After all, the cream of

the joke is that Mortoch would never have been able to come in here and

make sarcastic remarks about Keltry, if Keltry hadn't been here for the

past half hour."

"What do you mean by that?" said Mortoch suspiciously.

"I mean," said Borion, "that if Keltry had not been in here, you and

everybody else aboard this Carrier would now be dead."

"Now!" said Dynamon. "I think we have had enough of personalities.

Suppose we get a little work done. Mortoch, prepare the First Decuria

for reconnaissance duty. Each man should be equipped with cloak, oxygen

mask, counter-gravity helmets, and a supply of voltage bombs, and each

man's radio should be set at eighty-one thousand meters. Have them

ready at the main door in fifteen minutes. I will lead them on a short

tour of exploration and Thamon will accompany me. In the mean time,

Mortoch, you will remain in charge of the Carrier until I get back."

* * * * *

Dynamon's heart was pounding with excitement as he and Thamon walked

through the main saloon toward the group of cloaked figures standing

by the big round door. As far as he knew he was going to be the first

human being ever to step foot on the planet Saturn. He mentally

checked over his own equipment and made sure that it was all in place,

including the hard rubber box slung over his shoulder on a strap. That

box contained his supply of voltage bombs--little glass spheroids,

smaller than golf balls, which, when hurled at an enemy, burst

releasing a tremendous electric charge. There was little likelihood

that these bombs would be needed, because the periscope screens had

shown no sign of life anywhere in the gray, arid valley in which the

Cosmos Carrier was lying. However, Dynamon was taking no chances.

He glanced briefly at Thamon beside him. The scientist was unarmed,

carrying the light metal staff which was the badge of his profession.

Dynamon stepped forward and ran his eyes quickly over the masked,

muffled figures of the First Decuria. Then he signed to an engineer who

quickly unfastened the great door. Dynamon then stepped through and his

party followed him crowding into the air lock between the inner and

outer doors. Thamon stepped forward, maneuvered a lever, the outer door

swung open and Saturn lay waiting for the touch of Dynamon's foot.

It was not an especially inviting prospect. A blast of unbelievably

cold air swirled through the open door, carrying with it particles of

fine, gray sand. In the dim, murky twilight, tall gray mountains loomed

ominously across the valley floor. Dynamon shivered and turned up the

heat in his electric cloak. Then with one hand on the knob of his

counter-gravity helmet he stepped gingerly out on to the ground.

Instantly he sank to his knees in gray sand that was as light and

powdery as fresh snow. With a quick twist of the knob on his helmet he

kicked his feet free and stood lightly on the surface again.

"Attention, First Decuria!" he said into the transmitter of his radio

phone. "Adjust counter-gravitation to approximately plus ten pounds."

Stepping backward, he turned and watched the masked figures of his

command leave the Carrier one by one. Thamon came out first, followed

by the Decurion, and after him the soldiers. Mechanically, Dynamon

counted them. As the tenth soldier stepped out on the gray soil,

Dynamon started to turn away when to his astonishment an eleventh

cloaked figure came out of the door of the Carrier.

"Decurion!" Dynamon said sharply into his transmitter, "since when have

you had eleven men in your command?"

"Never," came back the prompt answer in Dynamon's ears. As the decurion

faced about to count his men, one of them moved over beside Dynamon.

"Forgive me, Dynamon," came a soft feminine voice, "but I had to come

with you. It's Keltry. Please don't send me back, I promise not to be

any trouble."

Dynamon hesitated, then reluctantly agreed to allow her to come along.

"Stay close to Thamon," he warned, and started off down the valley, the

rest of the party following him.

Lightened as they were to keep from sinking deep into the treacherous

powdery sand, the humans made fast progress, accelerated by the strong

breeze that blew at their backs down the valley. At that, Dynamon

realized that the lofty mountains on either side provided protection

against immeasurably stronger winds higher up. From the saw-toothed

peaks on the left, dark streamers of sand stood out for yards,

indicating constant winds of gale proportions up there.

* * * * *

The valley itself, as far as Dynamon could see in the dim half-light,

was barren of any kind of life. There was no sign of a creeping,

crawling, or flying creature; nor was there any vegetation, trees or

grass. Dynamon led his column nearly a mile down the unchanging gray of

the valley and then called a halt.

"Thamon," he said, beckoning the scientist to him, "can you see any

possibility of human habitation in this valley?"

"Off-hand, I don't, not on the surface," the scientist replied. "I

would have to test the atmosphere for oxygen, but I doubt if there is a

large enough proportion. My guess is that there is nothing but nitrogen

in this air. That won't support human life, or any other kind of life

except possibly certain kinds of plants."

"What about tridium?" said Dynamon. "How do you go about looking for

it?"

"Electrophysiological tests of all kinds," said Thamon. "I must say

this valley doesn't look very encouraging. It looks like burned out

volcanic ash. Say! What's that up the valley?"

Dynamon gazed back in the direction of the Cosmos Carrier, and felt an

uneasy prickling along his spine. The desert valley floor behind them

seemed suddenly to have sprouted some tall bushes. There were possibly

a dozen of them standing at intervals of twenty yards. They were too

far away--perhaps one eighth of a mile--for Dynamon to see them very

well, but they appeared to consist of a score of leafless branches

radiating outward in all directions from a small core. It was as if a

basket ball was bristling with ten-foot javelins.

"Where did they come from?" Dynamon gasped. "I didn't see them when we

walked over that ground a few minutes ago."

"Nor I," agreed Thamon. "I can't imagine where they came from."

Just then one of the bushes apparently moved a few feet as if blown by

the wind.

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Thamon. "Did you see that? One of those things

rolled forward!"

Then another of the fantastic bushes started to roll, and another, and

another. In a moment all twelve of the extraordinary apparitions were

rolling rapidly down the wind toward the humans. Dynamon felt the hair

on the back of his neck stiffen, and he sprang into action, commanding

his soldiers to converge around him.

"Thamon, what _are_ those things!" Dynamon cried.

"I don't know," the scientist replied. "I don't think they can be

animals. But they might be rootless nitrogen-feeding plants of some

kind. Look! Those branches are covered with long thorns!"

The fantastic creatures were rolling swiftly down on the little group

of humans, and Dynamon could see the sharp thorns around the end of

each branch. He reached into the box at his hip.

"Decuria, ready with voltage bombs," he commanded, and looking around

saw that each man held one of the little glass bombs in his hand. The

bushes were only fifty feet away now, rolling lightly over the gray

sand on their spindly branches.

"Ready?" warned Dynamon, "throw!"

A shower of glistening glass balls flew through the air into the midst

of the menacing apparitions. There was a series of blinding flashes and

loud reports. Some jagged white lines appeared among the black branches

of the monsters, but they kept right on rolling downwind. Dynamon felt

a surge of dismay. Those voltage bombs had been, for years, Man's best

weapon.

"They're plants all right!" came Thamon's voice. "You can't kill them

with electricity any more than you can kill a tree!"

Dynamon looked at the men huddled about him and thought quickly.

"All we can do, men, is to try and dodge them," he announced. "Spread

out and as soon as one of those things passes you run upwind! Keltry!

Thamon! Stay close to me."

* * * * *

The line of rolling bushes was almost upon them as the soldiers

deployed in all directions. Seizing Keltry by the hand, Dynamon

leapt to one side dragging her out of the path of one of the spiney

monsters. Thamon gasped a warning, and Dynamon, turning his head, felt

a thrill of horror as he saw another of the creatures almost on top

of them. Acting instinctively, Dynamon snatched the metal staff from

Thamon's hands and flailed frantically at the black, thorny branches.

To his amazement, they shivered and snapped under the metal rod like

matchwood. Hardly daring to believe his eyes, Dynamon struck again and

again at the horrible creature, until in a few minutes it was nothing

but a pile of scattered, broken faggots on the gray sand.

But cries for help and screams of anguish sounded in Dynamon's ear

phones, and he saw that five of the soldiers were on the ground impaled

on the cruel thorns of others of the monsters. He ran toward them and

beat them to pieces with the rod but too late to save the lives of the

men. They lay pierced in a dozen places by long, black thorns. The

rest of the Decuria had managed to dodge the whirling branches of the

other bushes and now stood safely up wind of them. Dynamon summoned the

survivors around him.

"What do you think, Thamon?" he asked. "In your opinion are there

likely to be more of these horrible things around?"

"There may easily be," the scientist replied promptly. "But since the

only defense against them is this one metal rod, I recommend that

we leave our unfortunate comrades here and head immediately for the

mountains over there. Those poor fellows are beyond our help and we

should be able to find better protection from these blood-thirsty

thorn-bushes among the foot hills. When we get there we can work upwind

until we're opposite the Carrier again."

"That sounds like good advice," said Dynamon. "And we'll act on it.

It's getting so dark now that we couldn't see to protect ourselves if

any more of those creatures came rolling down the wind. Everyone join

hands and follow me."

* * * * *

After a nerve-racking march of about twenty-five minutes through the

gathering darkness, the party of nine humans felt the ground rising

beneath their feet. Dynamon halted and hurled a voltage bomb forward

and upward. As the bomb exploded, the momentary flash revealed to the

party that they were at the foot of a steep, rock-strewn declivity.

Dynamon led the party upward, feeling his way over the great boulders.

After a few minutes of climbing, he called another halt and again threw

a voltage bomb.

"We'll stay here for a few hours," the centurion announced, "until it

gets light enough to see our way. We will be safe in the lee of these

big rocks, so make yourselves comfortable."

Nine dim figures spread out on the sloping ground. Then one of them

drifted apart from the rest, up hill.

"Who is that?" Dynamon demanded.

"Keltry," came the answer. "I am just going up hill a little distance.

When you exploded that last bomb I thought I saw something that looked

like the edge of a volcanic crater."

"You can't see anything in this darkness," said Dynamon. "Wait till it

gets light again before you do any exploring."

"Oh, I won't go far," said Keltry. "Really, I won't."

"Well, be sure that you don't," Dynamon smiled into his transmitter.

Then he said, "Thamon, where are you?"

"Right here," and a figure moved over beside the centurion.

Dynamon's question was casual.

"Did you see anything that looked like a volcanic crater?"

"Come to think of it," the scientist replied, "I think I did. It's just

up here a few yards."

"Shall we go along and have a look at it too, then?" said Dynamon,

getting up on his feet. Just then, he stood rooted with horror as a

piercing scream rang in his ear phone.

"Dynamon! Dynamon, I'm falling!"

"Keltry!" the centurion exclaimed. "What's the matter? Has something

happened to your helmet?"

"Yes!" Keltry's voice was fainter. "I've lost it! It was unfastened,

and when I stumbled, it rolled off!" Fainter and fainter grew the

voice. "I'm falling down a black hole a mile a minute!" With a muttered

sob, Dynamon scrambled up the slope. A moment later, his foot stepped

out on empty space. He started to fall into nothingness.

"Keltry!" he cried into his transmitter. "Where are you? Answer me!"

Straining his ears Dynamon heard a tiny voice far away saying, "I'm

still falling."

"I'm coming after you, Keltry!" the centurion yelled, and reaching

up to the knob on his helmet, twisted frantically. By doing that, he

multiplied the gravitational pull of the planet and was now falling

much more swiftly than Keltry. How deep this black pit was, Dynamon had

no idea, but he prayed it would be deep enough so that he could catch

up with Keltry before she hit the bottom. It was a desperate chance but

Dynamon was willing to take it.

"Keltry!" he shouted into the transmitter. "Can you hear me? I'm coming

for you."

"Yes, I hear you, Dynamon," came the answer, and Dynamon's heart leapt

as it seemed to him that the voice sounded a little stronger.

"Keep your courage up, Keltry," he said, trying to sound calm. "I'm

falling faster than you are. There doesn't seem to be any bottom to

this pit so I'm bound to catch up with you."

"Oh, Dynamon! You shouldn't have jumped after me. There's--there's

only--one chance in a million that we don't crash."

* * * * *

Keltry was bravely trying to hide the despair and terror in her

voice, but most important of all to Dynamon was the fact that she

sounded--still nearer! He resolutely put out of his mind the frightful

probability that at any second, first Keltry and then he, would be

dashed to pieces at the bottom of the pit. It seemed to him that he had

been falling for miles, and he thought that there was beginning to be

more air resistance now. He bent his head and peered downward, trying

to pierce the inky blackness with his eyes, but he could see nothing.

It was a fantastic sensation or, better still, a lack of all sensation.

He seemed to be resting immobile in a black nothingness, with only the

rushing air tearing at his cloak to indicate that he was falling.

"Keep talking, Keltry," he cried.

"Oh, you sound so much nearer!" There was a note of incredulous hope

in Keltry's voice.

"I told you I'd catch up with you!" Dynamon exulted.

Suddenly, his heart gave a great bound. He was still peering downward

and it seemed to him that far away he could see a tiny pin point of

light.

"Keltry!" he cried, "am I seeing things? Or is there something that

looks like a star; way down there?"

"Oh, I think I see it!" Keltry answered breathlessly. "Dynamon, what

could that mean?"

"I don't know," said Dynamon, "but it seems to be growing larger, and

I'm getting much nearer to you."

Under his fascinated eyes, the star grew bigger and brighter by the

second. In a few moments Dynamon, hardly daring to believe his eyes,

thought he could make out the outlines of a flying figure between him

and the light.

"Keltry!" he shouted. "I've almost caught up with you! Hold your hands

up over your head."

"Oh Dynamon! I think I can see you."

The point of light which Dynamon thought was a star, was growing into

a larger, brighter disk. Keltry's body was sharply outlined against

it now, and she seemed to be scarcely ten feet away. Dynamon bent

himself into a jack-knife dive and kicked his feet up behind him.

The air pressure was tremendous now, and Dynamon began to realize

that it was no star, or sun, or planet down below but the bottom

of the pit. Rays of light spread upward, illuminating the smooth,

shiny sides of the shaft. A few more agonizing seconds went past and

Dynamon's hands grazed the tips of Keltry's upraised fingers. Dynamon

dared not estimate how far above the bottom of the pit they were, but

concentrated on gaining the few inches he needed to get a grip on one

of Keltry's wrists.

"We've--almost--made it!" he panted. "Here--grab my right arm and hang

on for dear life!"

An involuntary shout of relief came from Dynamon's lips as he felt

Keltry's strong fingers close over his arm.

"Hang on!" he shouted, and his left hand flew up to his helmet and

carefully turned the counter-gravitation knob. At the same time, he

twisted his back around and fought his feet downward. A moment later,

he gripped Keltry's torso under the arms with his knees. Frantically,

he tried to estimate how far above the bottom of the pit they were.

They might be five thousand feet--or five hundred feet. Slowly he

turned the dial on his helmet, resisting the almost insuperable impulse

to twist the knob too fast. If he tried to stop their fall too quickly

it would tear their bodies apart.

Slowly, ever slowly, the air-rush diminished. By now, they were well

down into the area illuminated from the bottom of the pit. And they

could see that they were falling through a round shaft perhaps one

hundred feet in diameter. Dynamon judged that they were less than one

hundred feet off the bottom.

"Look out, Keltry," he said. "I've got to put on the brakes hard."

He gritted his teeth, and flicked the knob on his helmet. He stifled a

groan as invisible ropes attached to his feet and hands seemed to be

trying to pull him apart. But gradually the terrific pressure released.

He moved the knob a shade, and released the grip of his knees on Keltry.

"There!" he grunted as they both landed lightly on solid ground. "There

wasn't two seconds to spare."

* * * * *

Keltry drew a shuddering sigh and put a hand on Dynamon's arm for

support.

"Oh, Dynamon!" she whispered, "if I weren't such a well brought-up girl

I would break down and cry from sheer relief."

"I don't blame you," said Dynamon in a voice that shook a little. "That

was quite an experience, but we came out of it all right. Now, where do

you suppose we are? How do you suppose this pit was ever formed?"

The two Earth-people stared around them curiously. They were bathed in

a bright light, and yet there was no apparent source of illumination.

It began to dawn on them that the rocks which formed the side walls

at the base of the shaft, were themselves luminous, glowing with a

curious greenish light. Dynamon tilted his head back and stared up into

the darkening shaft. Suddenly, he uttered an exclamation and, seizing

Keltry by the wrist dragged her to one side. A few seconds later, a

round object dropped out of the shaft and bounced on the ground. It was

Keltry's counter-gravity helmet.

Dynamon reached down and picked it up. "It's a good thing that these

things are well built," he remarked with a smile, "or this would be

smashed to bits. The knob is still set for plus ten pounds, and that

was quite a fall. I wonder whether it still works."

He twisted the knob experimentally and the helmet started to sail

upward.

"Say!" Dynamon cried. "It works, all right! Here, put it on Keltry."

Keltry accepted the helmet with a laugh, put it on her head and was

buckling it under her chin when her blood suddenly congealed in her

veins. A loud shout rang echoingly through the shaft. Dynamon whirled

around and beheld a curious figure standing in front of a rock not

sixty feet away. It stood upright on two legs, and cradled a sort of

club in its arms. Its head was covered with long, yellow hair that fell

down on to its shoulders, and the lower half of its face was covered

with coarse, yellow hair. Blue eyes glinted from under shaggy brows in

a menacing glare at the two Earth-people.

"It looks quite human, doesn't it?" whispered Keltry.

Dynamon nodded and slid his ear phone off his right ear as he saw the

stranger's hairy mouth opening and closing. Keltry followed his example

in time to hear the stranger's rumbling voice.

"Whoo-yoo?"

Dynamon touched Keltry's hand. "That sounded like 'who are you' didn't

it?" he said wonderingly.

"It certainly did," Keltry answered. "I think that's some kind of

human."

"If it's a human," Dynamon said, "then there must be some sort of

breathable atmosphere down here. You notice he's not wearing any oxygen

mask."

"Whoo-yoo?" the stranger repeated, "an whey cum fum?"

"He's speaking a kind of English!" said Keltry excitedly. "He said,

'who are you' and 'where do you come from'!"

"By Jupiter!" cried Dynamon. "I think you're right. If he can breathe

without a mask, so can we. I'll have a little talk with him."

A moment later the centurion stood bare-headed, helmet and oxygen mask

in hand.

"We're humans from Earth," he told the stranger, pronouncing each word

carefully. "Who are you?"

The stranger's eyes and mouth flew open in astonishment and the rod

sagged in his hands.

"Humes! Fum Earth!" he cried hoarsely, then turned his head, and gave

an ear-splitting yell.

* * * * *

A moment later, a dozen or more short, hairy-faced creatures closely

resembling the first stranger came tumbling through a passageway

behind him and stood rooted with astonishment at the sight of Dynamon

and Keltry. Their bodies were completely covered, the torsoes, with

loose, gray tunics, and the legs with ugly, baggy tubes. They advanced

cautiously on the two people from Earth.

"Take off your helmet and mask," Dynamon directed Keltry, "the air is

perfectly good. We'll try and find out the mystery of how these humans

ever got here."

He turned and addressed the first stranger, again enunciating slowly

and carefully. Immediately the whole crowd burst into excited

jabbering. Here and there Dynamon thought he recognized a word.

Finally, one man taller than the rest stepped forward.

"Yoo cum thus," he declared.

"Certainly," Dynamon nodded with a smile, and reached out a hand to

Keltry. The crowd, with wondering eyes, opened up a line and the two

young people from Earth followed their self-appointed guide through it.

A short narrow passageway led off at a sharp angle through the rocky

wall of the pit, and presently Dynamon and Keltry found themselves on

what appeared to be a hill top. Both of them gave little gasps as a

vast and magnificent panorama spread out before their astonished eyes.

It was as if they had stepped into a new world.

A gently undulating plain stretched away in three directions as far

as their eyes could see. It was predominantly gray in color, but here

and there, were scattered long, narrow strips of green. These green

strips all had shimmering, silvery borders, and Dynamon couldn't

help recalling to mind some arid spots back on the Earth that were

criss-crossed with irrigation ditches. There were no trees on this

vast plain, but strewn around in a haphazard way, were a quantity of

great boulders. And these rocks, like the rocks at the base of the pit,

glowed luminously. However, the landscape was clearly illuminated by

some other source than those scattered rocks. Dynamon lifted his eyes

upward and saw that above them, and stretching as far as the eye could

reach, there was a softly luminous ceiling. There was no way of telling

how high up this ceiling was. It might be twenty feet or twenty miles.

The effect was like that of certain days on the Earth, when wide-spread

clouds blanket the sky and diffuse the sun's rays.

The plain was by no means deserted. Here and there along the green

strips four-legged creatures moved slowly, creatures that, on Earth

Dynamon would have said were cows. Nearer at hand, a flock of small

white creatures milled around aimlessly, and Dynamon could have sworn

he heard the cackle of hens. Dynamon glanced over his shoulder and saw

that the little hairy-faced men were filing out of the passageway to

the pit. The guide tugged at his sleeve.

"This oo-ay," he said and pointed to his right.

Still holding Keltry's hand, Dynamon turned and followed the man, and

the others fell in behind them. Their way eventually led toward a tall

set of cliffs at the base of which a score or so of cave-like openings

could be seen.

"These _are_ humans, aren't they, Dynamon?" Keltry whispered.

"They certainly look like it," Dynamon answered, "although obviously

they're very primitive."

"Then how and when did they come to Saturn?" Keltry persisted.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Dynamon shrugged. "Perhaps we'll find

out."

Other strange humans came running up the hill and joined the crowd

behind them. Apparently they were not all men, for some of them had no

hair on their faces and wore long robes over their bodies. The guide

led them straight to one of the openings in the cliff, then halted and

faced the two adventurers impressively.

"The koo-een!" he announced in a loud tone.

Dynamon and Keltry looked wonderingly at each other and then back to

the guide. At that moment a woman appeared at the mouth of the cave.

She was small and delicately formed and strikingly beautiful. She had

the bluest of eyes and golden hair that fell away on either side of a

marble brow. A long-sleeved white garment gathered at the waist covered

her from neck to toe, but its shapeless folds could scarcely conceal

the delicious curves of her little body.

"Humes!" the guide shouted proudly, "fum Earth!"

* * * * *

The woman's blue eyes widened as she stared solemnly at Dynamon and

Keltry.

"Are you from Earth?" she said in slow musical tones. "So strange! So

wonderful! How did you come?"

Dynamon grinned. "We came in a Cosmos Carrier," he said easily. "And to

us, it seems even more strange and more wonderful that we find humans

already on Saturn."

A shy answering smile came over the woman's beautiful face.

"We have been here hundreds of years," she replied in the same slow

accents. "But come inside the Palace and we will talk."

She turned with an inviting look and the two adventurers from Earth

followed her through a passageway lined with the, by now, familiar

luminous rocks. They came out in a fairly large, high-ceilinged room,

in the center of which was a sort of table made out of a long, trimmed

slab of rock. At one end of this table was a high-back chair made of

woven reeds. The woman walked over to the chair and sitting down in it,

indicated stools on either side of her.

"Sit down," she said, "and tell me more about yourselves."

"Thank you," Dynamon answered, and turning to his companion said, "It's

warm in here, I think we might take off these cloaks."

Keltry nodded, and putting her hand to the throat fastening, zipped it

downward. Dynamon did likewise and the two stepped out of their cloaks.

There was a sudden scream from the beautiful little woman, and her

hands flew up in front of her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she squealed. "Why you're--you're practically

naked! You're positively immodest!"

Keltry threw a startled glance at Dynamon's long, brown legs.

"Why, not at all," she said quietly. "We are dressed like everyone else

on Earth at the present time. Modesty with us, nowadays, is something

much more important than lengths of cloth."

The little woman kept her hands before her eyes and shook her head

vigorously. "It's immodest," she insisted, "and you must put on your

clothes at once. Don't you realize that I'm the queen?"

Reluctantly, Keltry and Dynamon stepped back into their heavy cloaks

and zipped them up the front.

"Well! that's better," said the little queen primly. "My goodness," she

said with a slight glance, "is everybody on Earth as big and brown as

you two?"

"We're about average, I should say," Keltry answered with a smile. "And

seriously, we didn't mean to offend you in the matter of clothes."

"Well we, on Saturn," said the little queen, "don't believe in indecent

exposure. Now, you say you came in some kind of a carrier?"

"Yes," said Dynamon. "It's up on the surface. We were exploring in the

darkness and fell down the long shaft."

"Why weren't you killed?" said the queen, blue eyes wide. Dynamon

explained the counter-gravity helmets. It took considerable

explanation, because the queen was inclined to disbelieve the whole

story. She finally accepted it, however, and then launched into a long

series of questions about the Cosmos Carrier and about the state of

the Earth. Eventually Dynamon found an opening and started asking

questions on his part.

"We're anxious to know about you and your people on Saturn," he

suggested. "Have you a name or are you addressed only as Queen?"

"I am Queen Diana," the little woman stated. "The last of my line. I am

a Bolton, and the Boltons have been rulers of Saturn ever since we came

here."

"Bolton!" Dynamon shouted. "Are you a descendant of Leonard Bolton?"

"Yes!" replied the queen, with a delighted smile. "Do they still

remember Leonard Bolton on Earth?"

"We know that he designed a contrivance called a 'space ship', but

that's all. Did he actually build such a ship, and is that how you come

to be here so many thousands of miles from Earth?"

"Yes," said Queen Diana, proudly. "It's all down in some books which I

will show you. Leonard Bolton built a space ship which was big enough

to hold ten families and their belongings. There was a terrible war

going on and he thought the only place to find safety was another

planet. So the 'space ship' left the Earth by means of a thing called a

'rocket,' whatever that is. And they wandered around for years in space

till they finally came into Saturn's orbit, and the tremendous gravity

pulled the ship right through the light outer crust into this Nether

World. I don't know how many years ago that was, but we have been here

ever since."

"Well that is an amazing story," said Dynamon. "And I would like to

see those books you mentioned. How incredibly fortunate that the

'space ship' broke through into this Nether World, where there is an

atmosphere that will support life. And it is pretty miraculous too,

that the 'space ship' didn't break up from the force of hitting the

outer crust."

"Well, the books say that it was broken up somewhat," the queen

answered, "but nobody was hurt. And after they unloaded the ship, they

took it apart so that they could use the metal in it for other things."

She was eyeing him admiringly.

"And the colony has survived over a thousand years," Dynamon mused. He

could not help thinking how, in comparison with the people on Earth,

the survivors of Bolton's expedition were a rather poor lot. They had

made no progress at all in the thousand years, mentally or culturally;

from all evidences they had, on the contrary, retrogressed at least to

a degree. Then across his mind flitted a picture of the hardships these

brave souls had to endure in establishing themselves on the new planet.

At no time could they have even hoped to return to Earth.

With their limited equipment they had set out to make the most of their

new world. The great caves offered natural shelter so it was small

wonder that they made their homes in them.

Dynamon, although a soldier to his finger tips, had none of the

haughtiness and cruelty which are so often found in the warriors of

today. Quickly his pity for the colonists turned into admiration, and

he turned gently to face Queen Diana again.

"Tell me," he asked, "Are we the first strangers you have seen? You

haven't, by any chance, been visited by Martians, have you?"

"Martians," said the queen. "What are they?"

"At present, they are just about the worst enemies of human beings,"

Dynamon replied tersely.

"No," said the queen, "our only enemies here are the _land-krakens_. We

have been fighting them for hundreds of years and we have never been

able to exterminate them, because they're so hard to kill."

"Land-krakens," said Dynamon. "What sort of creature are they?"

"They are great, crawling monsters," the queen told him. "They have a

dozen long, flexible arms that curl around their victims and strangle

them. They lie in wait for our cows and kill them easily, and now and

then, they catch a human being. They're terribly hard to kill even with

bullets--they seem to be made of gristle and jelly."

Just as the queen spoke, there was a chorus of shouts outside the cave,

followed by three or four sharp reports, in rapid succession. The queen

stood up quickly, as one of her subjects rushed into the cave.

"Land-kraken!" he shouted. "Ter'ble biggun!"

* * * * *

Without a word, the queen picked up her long skirts and ran to the

entrance of the cave, Dynamon and Keltry following close behind. An

extraordinary sight met their eyes.

At the fool of the little hill, fifty or sixty shouting men were ringed

around a horrible mass of thrashing, gray tentacles. Several of the men

were pointing their black rods at the beast.

"Oh, it _is_ a big one," the queen cried. "Our guns will be useless

against that thick hide--the bullets will just skim off."

There were several more reports and smoke curled from the ends of the

rods. Several long, grey tentacles rose up above the mass, and the

crowd surged backward in all directions. Suddenly one of the slimy

arms streaked downward and outward, and a moment later a struggling,

screaming human was lifted high in the air. A thrill of horror went

through Dynamon, and Keltry clutched his arm.

"Their ancient fire-arms are useless," she said in a tense whisper.

"Perhaps a voltage bomb--"

But Dynamon was already running down the slope, fumbling at the black

box at his hip. The concerted groan of despair from the crowd suddenly

changed to a shout as the unfortunate human somehow tore loose from the

encircling tentacle and dropped to the ground. Just as the land-kraken

was reaching for the doomed man with another long arm, Dynamon hurled

a voltage bomb over the heads of the crowd. The little glass ball

landed squarely in the middle of the writhing gray mass. There was a

blinding flash and a loud report. A convulsive shudder rippled over the

gray monster and its twelve tentacles suddenly went limp. The crowd

looked at it in stunned silence for a second, and then raised a yell of

triumph. A noisy mob of little bearded men escorted Dynamon back up the

hill to where the beautiful little queen stood, waiting, her blue eyes

shining.

"How marvelous! How heroic!" she breathed, as Dynamon came up to her.

"You killed the kraken with one blow. How did you do it?"

"Well, you see, Queen Diana," Dynamon replied, patting the black box,

"these little voltage bombs have long ago entirely replaced fire-arms

on Earth. Their range is shorter but they are far more deadly."

"Oh! So wonderful!" the queen gasped. "I am so glad you came. You shall

marry me and I'll make you King of Saturn."

"I am most honored and flattered by your proposal, Queen Diana,"

Dynamon smiled, "but I am afraid that isn't possible. Keltry and I must

go back up the shaft and rejoin our expedition."

"Oh, but you can't!" said the queen suddenly. "Send the girl away if

you want"--she waved a careless hand at Keltry-"but you must stay here

with me forever."

* * * * *

Dynamon saw Keltry's startled eyes on him and he felt an acute

embarrassment. It was an impossible situation. He could not repress

a little glow within him from the frank approval of the beautiful,

imperious little queen. But at the same time, he knew that he must

soon devise some means of making a graceful exit from her presence.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden cry from the edge of the

surrounding crowd. He turned his head and looked along the base of the

cliff. A column of cloaked figures, helmeted and masked, were streaming

out of the passageway to the pit.

"It's a search party coming after us!" cried Keltry.

They were twenty or so of the soldiers from Earth, and they covered the

distance toward Dynamon and Keltry in a short time and forced their way

through the crowd of bearded Saturnians. The one in the lead unfastened

his oxygen mask and revealed the spectacled face of Thamon.

"Thank goodness, you're alive!" said the scientist fervently. "We never

expected to find you. What a fantastic place this is!"

"You are in the kingdom of the Boltons," said Dynamon, "and this is

Queen Diana."

The man behind Thamon unmasked, revealing the lean, dark features of

Mortoch.

"Congratulations, Dynamon," said the Chief Decurion, dryly, as he in

turn was presented to the wide-eyed little queen. "You certainly picked

a sort of paradise to fall into. A paradise, I might add, presided over

by an angel."

A coy smile crept over the queen's face, then died away at Mortoch's

next words.

"I bring you grave news, Dynamon," the Chief Decurion said. "There are

two Martian Carriers in the vicinity. We haven't seen them yet, but we

intercepted a long-wave conversation between them. What do you intend

to do about it?"

"Why, I think we should go right back to the surface," Dynamon replied.

"Could you tell from their conversation whether they knew that we were

on Saturn?"

"Apparently they knew we were somewhere around," said Mortoch, "but

hadn't located us yet."

"Well, we'd better hurry right on up then," said Dynamon, "so that we

can get back to our Carrier before they find it."

"Oh, but you can't go!" said the little queen in a shrill voice, "I

forbid it."

"I wish we could stay, Queen Diana," Dynamon answered, "but there's

dangerous work to be done up on the surface."

"But why go to the surface at all?" the queen demanded. "Why not stay

down here and keep away from the danger?"

"No, Queen Diana," Dynamon said, keenly conscious of Mortoch's lurking

smile. "Duty calls and we must go. Perhaps when we have finished our

work we will pay you another visit. All right, men, here we go."

* * * * *

The centurion, Keltry by his side, led the way back to the entrance

to the pit, while the Saturnians, grouped around their little queen,

gaped after them. As the little force stood in the bottom of the pit

adjusting their helmets and oxygen masks preparatory to ascending to

the surface, Mortoch leaned over to Dynamon.

"That wasn't such a bad idea of the beautiful Diana's," he murmured.

"Personally, I wouldn't mind spending a few safe years down there with

her. It would be better than facing those deadly Photo-Atomic Rays of

the Martians."

"If it's safety you're interested in, Mortoch," said Dynamon, dryly,

"we'll try and get you, as soon as possible, to the safety of the

Carrier. Anyway, perhaps the Martians are just exploring and didn't

come equipped with the Ray."

But as the centurion turned the knob in his helmet and shot up through

the great shaft, he felt in his heart no great hope that such, indeed,

would be the case. If the Martian Carrier were in the vicinity of

Saturn it was altogether likely that they had come prepared to destroy

the Earth Carrier, and would be equipped with their best weapon.

Dynamon hoped against hope that he and the little force would reach

the surface in time to get to their own Carrier, whose thick walls

the Martians' Ray could not penetrate. After that, it would be a case

of maneuvering the Carrier in such a way as to try to disable the

Martians' ships.

The humans, their gravity repellors turned up full strength, whizzed

up the black shaft at a tremendous rate of speed. Even so, it seemed

hours before a small gray disc above him warned Dynamon that they were

nearing the top. He spoke some words of command into his radio phone

and cut down his upward speed. In a few moments he stepped over the rim

of the shaft into the gray light of the Saturnian midday. He glanced

down into the valley in the direction of the Carrier and felt a shock

of dismay go through him.

* * * * *

The gray Earth Carrier was in the same place, but a half a mile on

either side of it were two flaming red Martian Carriers. And out on

the gray sand far from any of the ships a furious battle was going on.

Some twenty tall, human figures were ringed around by a swarm of tiny,

globular Martians. A continuous series of white flashes showed that the

humans were desperately hurling their voltage bombs, but the encircling

Martians were keeping well out of range and a dozen still forms on the

ground showed that the invisible Photo-Atomic Ray was doing its deadly

work.

All too clearly, Dynamon saw what had happened. In the absence of a

commanding officer, himself or Mortoch, Borion had unwarily sent a

force of soldiers out scouting. The Martians had swooped down, landed

swiftly, and cut off the force from the Carrier. The humans were

desperately trying to cut through to safety, but their situation looked

hopeless.

Quickly, Dynamon turned and faced the men behind him and held up his

hands in a gesture signifying that no one should use his radio phone.

He had determined to try and help his beleaguered soldiers down in

the valley, and the only way that could successfully be done was to

surprise-attack swiftly on the rear of the Martians. He motioned Keltry

and Thamon back into the pit and then, sweeping his arm forward in a

wide arc, he plunged down the hillside. But before he had covered half

the distance to the combat in the valley, Dynamon realized that his

attack was coming too late. The Photo-Atomic Ray was cutting down the

little force of humans like an invisible scythe. There were only nine

of them left now and one by one these were falling. A thousand thoughts

raced through Dynamon's head. Should he go ahead with the attack,

courting on getting within bombing distance of the Martians unnoticed,

before they could swing their Photo-Atomic Ray around? Or, should he

change direction, skirting the enemy, and make a run for the Carrier?

Suddenly, his blood froze in his veins as a voice sounded in his ear

phones.

"This is suicide, Dynamon!" It was Mortoch's voice.

"It's suicide now!" said Dynamon through clenched teeth. "You fool! You

have given us away!"

There was an instant reaction from the swarming Martians in the valley.

A large group of them broke away from the combat and rolled over the

gray sand toward Dynamon's detachment. The centurion halted his men

abruptly. It was sure annihilation to try and stand in the face of the

oncoming men of Mars.

"Back to the pit!" Dynamon commanded. "It's our only chance. Once we

get down there we'll decide what to do later."

The little force just barely made it to the mouth of the shaft. The

Martians were coming up rapidly behind them, and Dynamon could see the

big, black cones which produced the invisible Ray.

* * * * *

The descent down the shaft was rapid, Dynamon being the last to land on

the shiny floor. Immediately, he marched his men through the passageway

into the Nether World and detailed two men to remain and guard the

entrance to the pit.

"I don't believe the Martians will follow us down," he said. "If they

do, we can easily defend the passageway."

Then he turned and singled out the Chief Decurion.

"Mortoch," he announced, "you are under arrest. You disobeyed my orders

in regard to using the radio phone, and by doing so you betrayed our

presence to the enemy. I will dispose of your case later."

Mortoch stepped forward, a sardonic gleam in his dark eyes.

"And suppose I refuse to be arrested?" he said. "If I had not disobeyed

the order, you would have led us into certain death." Mortoch swept the

crowd of soldiers with a burning look. "Men, I proclaim that Dynamon is

incompetent to command you. Henceforth, you will take your orders from

me--and _you_, Dynamon, are the one who is under arrest."

"Mortoch!" Dynamon cried. "You are out of your mind!"

"Not at all," Mortoch returned. "I am merely assuming the command which

should have been mine to begin with. Put your hands up in the air,

Dynamon, and backward march till I tell you to stop. And let nobody

else make a move"--Mortoch's rasping voice rose to a shout--"I have in

each hand a voltage bomb which I shall not hesitate to throw if anybody

attempts to cross my will."

"This is madness!" Dynamon cried hoarsely. "You can't hope to get away

with this!" He strode forward angrily.

"Back!" roared Mortoch, and raised his right hand threateningly.

Dynamon staggered back in bewilderment from the soldiers who stood

in silence, too shocked to make a move. Helpless against the voltage

bombs in Mortoch's hands, the centurion stepped slowly backward, arms

upraised. It was an impossible situation, and for the moment, Dynamon

felt powerless to do anything about it. He reproached himself bitterly

for not being more wary of Mortoch. Up till now he had been conscious

of the Chief Ducurion's enmity, but he had never thought that the man

would erupt into open mutiny.

Dynamon threw a swift glance over his shoulder and saw that he was

only two paces away from one of those curious, luminous rocks. It

was approximately cylindrical in shape, six feet wide and perhaps

twenty feet tall. Dynamon took another step backward and turned his

head to face Mortoch. His back was almost touching the rock now, and

a desperate plan formed in his head. That was to make a sudden leap

around the rock. Once behind it and protected by its mass, he would

have time to pull out one of his own voltage bombs and await Mortoch's

next move.

* * * * *

But Dynamon had not truly measured the state of Mortoch's mind.

There was a sudden scream from Keltry as Mortoch, with a lightning

movement, drew back his right arm and flung the voltage bomb straight

at Dynamon's chest. The little glass ball sped unerringly across the

intervening twenty feet. There was no time to dodge. Dynamon pressed

his back against the rock and closed his eyes. It was the end.

Dynamon felt the little bomb bump his chest. But--wonder of wonders!

There was no blinding flash--no explosion. There was just a silvery

tinkle as the glass ball shattered at his feet. Dynamon opened his eyes

and found that he was still alive. An incredulous shout went up from

the horrified crowd and Thamon started running toward him.

"Tridium!" shouted the scientist. "You have discovered tridium!"

As in a dream, Dynamon saw the soldiers overpowering Mortoch and heard

himself say, "What do you mean? Where is the tridium?" He stared about

in wonder.

"The rock!" cried Thamon excitedly. "You touched the rock and were

instantly insulated against the electric charge. Great heavens! What a

discovery! Every one of these luminous rocks must be made of tridium."

Dynamon turned around and placed a hand on the glowing rock. Instantly,

he felt himself enveloped in an extraordinary transparent aura.

"You see!" cried Thamon, and struck at the rock with his metal rod.

Evidently, it was almost as soft as chalk, for several pieces as big as

a man's fist chipped off and fell to the ground. Thamon stooped down

and picked one of the pieces up and immediately he, too, stood in a

curious, gleaming aura.

"It's tridium, all right!" exclaimed the scientist. "There can be

no doubt about it. We knew it was on Saturn and we knew what its

properties were, but we didn't know what it looked like. Do you realize

what this means, Dynamon? It means that we may finally have found the

defense against the Photo-Atomic Ray!"

Dynamon felt a little dizzy. Not only had he been snatched from what

appeared to be certain death but he had inadvertently made a discovery

that might save the people of the world from conquest at the hands of

the Martians.

"Thamon, are you quite sure?" he said. "Are you quite sure that this

will work against the Ray?"

"No," replied Thamon promptly. "I won't be _quite_ sure until we've

tested it out. From a theoretical standpoint, this glowing cloud, this

aura that surrounds us as we touch a piece of tridium should insulate

us against the Ray. But to be absolutely certain, somebody will have to

expose himself to the Ray. Someone among us must go up to the surface

holding a piece of tridium in his hand and face the Martians. If he

is killed, then I'm wrong. But if he is not killed, then the Martians

are at our mercy. We can walk up to them untouched and crush their

egg-shell skulls with our bare fists."

"I see," said Dynamon gravely. "Then, one of us must be a heroic

experimental guinea pig?"

"Exactly," said Thamon.

Dynamon looked over the silent group of soldiers, at Mortoch, shoulders

hunched in the grip of two stalwarts. Then he bowed his head in thought

for a moment.

"Men," he said, finally, "this is not a case of calling for volunteers.

I think any one of us is brave enough to offer his life for the good of

the rest of the human beings, but I think we should decide who is to do

this dirty work by drawing lots."

"No!"

It was Mortoch. In his eyes was a wild, hunted look, and his voice was

hoarse, but there was deep sincerity in his tones.

"Dynamon," said the Chief Decurion, "I went off my head with jealousy

a minute ago. The madness is gone now, and I would give anything if I

could undo what I did. You must give me the chance to redeem myself. If

I am killed, so much the better for me. And if I am not, so much the

better for all the human beings in the world."

Dynamon looked long and searchingly at the Decurion. Finally he said,

"Mortoch, I cannot deny your appeal. Take this piece of tridium and go

up the shaft. We will be close behind you to observe the experiment."

Just then, there was a shout from the two soldiers who were guarding

the passageway to the pit.

"Martians!" they cried. "They are coming down on us! The shaft is full

of them!"

Dynamon walked straight toward Mortoch and placed the piece of tridium

in his hand.

"Your ordeal is at hand," he said simply, as, in a flash, the bright

aura transferred itself to the person of Mortoch.

* * * * *

The two soldiers guarding the entrance to the pit were backing away to

either side and throwing voltage bombs into the passageway as Mortoch

ran toward them.

"Stop!" he shouted, never slackening his pace. "This is my job! Get out

of range!"

He halted six feet away from the mouth of the passage and raised

his arms up in a gesture of defiance. An admiring gasp went up from

the crowd of watching humans at the tall, lean figure bathed in its

luminous glow. Then a deathly silence shut down abruptly as four little

figures erupted through the passageway. Martians!

They were scarcely two feet tall, with spindly little bodies and legs,

but their heads were more than twice the size of human heads and looked

doubly grotesque in their combination helmet-masks. One of them was

holding a big, black cone--the Photo-Atomic generator. Quickly the

little creature leveled it at Mortoch and pulled a lever on the side.

An ominous high-pitched hum filled the air and everyone knew that the

death Ray was being poured in all its deadly violence on Mortoch.

Thamon was the first to raise his voice in a shout as Mortoch,

unharmed, strode forward and felled the Martian with one blow of

his fist. The air rang with human cheers as Mortoch seized two more

scurrying Martians by the legs and dashed their brains out on the

ground.

"It works!" Thamon yelled, hysterically. "It's tridium! We're saved!"

The scientist was hacking crazily at the rock with his metal staff and

jubilant soldiers swarmed around him, picking up pieces of tridium. In

a few moments the whole force, every man surrounded by the luminous

aura, was bolting through the passageway into the bottom of the pit.

For a short time the Martians tried to put up a battle. But with their

chief weapon nullified, they were slaughtered by the dozen, and the

survivors began flitting up the shaft. In the midst of the turmoil,

Dynamon kept his wits about him. He knew that in order to realize the

full value of the tridium discovery, the Martians on the surface must

be kept from learning about it. He raised his voice in a mighty shout

over the clamor.

"Masks on! Up the shaft at full speed! We must not allow a single

Martian to reach the surface!"

Swiftly the Earth-soldiers fastened their masks and took off straight

upward. Each one of them clung to their precious lumps of tridium, and

in a short time the dark shaft presented an extraordinary spectacle.

Each of the twenty-odd humans was bathed in his own ghostly envelope of

light, and the fleeing Martians, looking downward, must have felt as if

they were being pursued by a squadron of giant fireflies.

The survivors of the massacre below had a head start of their pursuers,

but being so much lighter in weight, their gravity-repellors could not

push them up through the atmosphere as fast as the humans could go.

Gradually they were overtaken and destroyed by Dynamon's force--the

last Martian being caught just at the upper mouth of the pit.

* * * * *

Dynamon quickly gathered his men about him while he took stock of the

situation in the valley. The three Carriers were in the same position

as they were before, but there were no Earth-soldiers left standing. A

little circle of fallen bodies offered mute testimony to the hopeless

battle put up by the force of three decuria which had made that

ill-fated sortie from the Carrier. Now, the Martians from both of the

red ships--excluding, of course, the group that had been cut to pieces

in the pit--were gathered in a body near the Earth Carrier. Dynamon

guessed that they were waiting to see what the Earth people were going

to do next. They would soon find out, the centurion thought grimly.

Even though there were probably close to two hundred of the evil little

creatures down there, they would be no match for the brawny humans

insulated against the Photo-Atomic Ray.

Swiftly, Dynamon formulated a plan of action. His first consideration

was to try and seize both Martian Carriers. If possible, they must

be prevented from leaving the ground and carrying back to Mars the

warning that, at last, the humans had found a defense against the Ray.

With that in mind, the centurion divided his little force in two.

One decuria with its decurion he put under Mortoch, and the other,

he commanded himself. Each group was to strike boldly at one of the

Martian ships, Mortoch, the nearer one; himself, the farther one.

Dynamon issued his commands by signs, hoping to remain unnoticed by

the enemy if he refrained from using the radio-phone. But as he led

his group off along the hillside, a sudden activity among the Martians

in the valley told him that he had been sighted. They came streaming

across the valley floor toward the heights on a shallow crescent, each

wing spreading to perform an enveloping movement.

What an unpleasant surprise the nasty little devils are going to get,

thought Dynamon, and he switched on his radio-phone. "Follow me, now,

on the dead run!"

He dug his toes into the yielding gray sand and ran along the hillside,

bending low into the wind. It was heavy going, but the humans were able

to make faster progress than their enemies because of their greater

weight. Dynamon saw that he and his group were outrunning the Martians

and would probably reach their objective sooner. Two thoughts arose

in his mind to worry him. One was, that the Martians inside the red

ships might lock their doors and take off before he and Mortoch,

respectively, could reach them. The other was the fear that Borion,

inside the Earth-Carrier, not knowing of the new defense against the

Ray, would sally out in a desperate attempt to save--as he might

think--the two isolated detachments of humans.

However, Dynamon reflected, those were eventualities over which he had

no control. All he could do under the circumstances was pray for good

luck.

* * * * *

A glance down into the valley told him that he and his little force

were abreast of the Earth-Carrier by now, with a half a mile still to

go to reach the Martian ship. The Martians, running parallel, were

falling behind a little. Rapping out a command into his transmitter,

Dynamon changed his direction slightly, and swung downhill on a direct

line with the red ship. At the same time, he and his men readjusted

their gravity-control so that their speed was almost doubled. Away to

their left, the Martian horde was dropping behind. Dynamon gave an

involuntary shout of triumph. He and his party was going to win the

race.

As the little knot of speeding humans approached within a hundred

yards of the Martian Carrier, another cheer broke from Dynamon's lips.

The door at the side of the Carrier swung open and a score of little

creatures carrying the once-dreaded black cones tumbled out. The

Martians inside the ship, far from running away, were coming out to

fight--mistakingly confident that the twelve humans were at their mercy!

Quickly, Dynamon issued orders that two of his men should immediately

penetrate the inside of the Carrier and seize the control-room, while

the rest stayed outside and engaged the Martian warriors. Then, panting

for breath, but none the less confident, the decuria closed in on the

Martians.

They were within twenty-five yards of the dwarf-like little creatures

before the Martians discovered that something was amiss with the

Photo-Atomic Ray. The ugly little men hesitated in momentary dismay,

and then started to make a dash for the inside of the Carrier. But by

that time, it was too late.

The twelve humans, clothed in their life-preserving auras, swept down

on the Martians like avenging angels. All the pent-up hatred against

this diabolically cruel enemy now found release. At last, the Martian

superiority in weapons was broken. Dynamon and his men waded implacably

into the terrified little ogres and slew them without mercy. The whole

business was over in less than two minutes.

Without the loss of a man, Dynamon had annihilated the defenders of

the Carrier, and two of his soldiers were inside in possession of the

control-room. There remained now the job of handling the hundred or

so Martians who were moving over the gray sand toward his victorious

decuria.

But this force of the enemy had realized that something was radically

wrong. They were no longer running, but, in fact, were slowing up to

a halt about fifty yards away. Dynamon swung an arm and began to walk

toward them. The black cones came up, pointing, all along the long line

of Martians. Dynamon's men fanned out on either side of him, walking

forward slowly, inexorably.

The line of Martians wavered uncertainly, and then began to fall back

in terrified confusion, as the humans remained unharmed by the Ray.

Dynamon's voice crackled in nine sets of ear-phones, and the decuria

lunged forward. In a moment, they were in the midst of a panic-stricken

mass of scurrying Martians. Again, the soldiers from Earth slew

pitilessly, until in a short while, fifty-odd of the harried little

creatures lay dead. The rest were scattered in headlong flight over the

valley.

* * * * *

The business was accomplished none too soon. The thing which Dynamon

had feared might happen earlier, happened now. A force of humans,

unprotected by tridium, emerged from the big gray Carrier and hastened

toward Dynamon. A few minutes earlier and these men would have been

mowed down by the Ray. The centurion sighed with relief and ordered

the newcomers back to the Cosmos Carrier.

The danger was over.

Twenty minutes later, Dynamon had joined forces again with Mortoch's

detachment and was marching back to the mouth of the pit, where Keltry

and Thamon were waiting. The past hour had seen a complete and sweeping

triumph for the humans. Mortoch's attack on the other Martian ship had

been as successful as Dynamon's. Now, both of the Martian Carriers were

captured, and their crews and warriors cut to pieces. And, all this

had been accomplished with the loss of but one man. One of Mortoch's

soldiers had fallen and dropped his lump of tridium. The man had

instantly died under the Photo-Atomic Ray.

There remained only one more piece of business to conclude successfully

the expedition to Saturn, and Dynamon set about it promptly. Once again

he led the way down the pit to the Nether World.

There was great excitement at the bottom of the shaft. The Saturnians

were disposing of the bodies of the Martians who had fallen in the

first onslaught when Mortoch had proven the efficacy of tridium. And,

as Dynamon landed among them, closely followed by Thamon, Keltry and

the soldiers, the Saturnians crowded around in a condition bordering

on hysteria. They had never before seen Martians, or even dreamed of

their existence, so it was not to be wondered at that the primitive

humans of the Nether World were excited when the sudden, fierce combat

broke out almost in their midst. With the greatest difficulty, Dynamon

quieted them down enough so that they heard and complied with his

request to be taken to their Queen.

"Queen Diana," he said directly, "in your kingdom, you have any

quantity--thousands of tons--of this luminous rock which we have

identified as tridium. This substance is the one thing which can save

the people of the Earth from the death-ray of the Martians. Will you

give me your permission to carry away some of these rocks back to

Earth, so that our armies can defend themselves against our enemies?"

The little Queen gave Dynamon a long languorous look.

"If you stay here and be my King," she answered, at length, "I will

permit your people to carry away as many of the rocks as they want."

Dynamon's heart sank. He had hoped that Queen Diana had got over that

idea. What was he going to do?

"Well, Queen Diana," he said, slowly, trying frantically to think of

some way out, "I can't tell you how flattered I am at your proposal,

but I don't see how I can accept it."

"Why not?" the queen demanded, imperiously.

* * * * *

Dynamon shook his head helplessly. He was trying to think of some

tactful way of telling this spoiled little woman that his heart already

belonged to Keltry.

"Well, perhaps you have noticed," he began, "that someone else on this

expedition has a--a claim--er--"

"Who do you mean?" the Queen interrupted, "The tall, dark man? The one

called Mortoch?"

"Mortoch?" said Dynamon wonderingly.

"Yes, isn't that what you're trying to tell me? Mortoch! That's very

interesting," said the Queen dreamily, "Come to think of it, I _had_

noticed that he looked at me very intensely."

A great light dawned on Dynamon. The Queen was jumping to a quite

different set of conclusions. He had tried to tell her that he was in

love with Keltry, and she thought he was telling her that Mortoch was

in love with her, the Queen!

"I think that is very generous of you, Dynamon," said the Queen with a

brilliant smile. "You are standing aside in favor of Mortoch because in

your eyes, his bravery in facing the Martians gives him a greater claim

on my hand."

Dynamon nodded wisely.

"He is a very handsome man," the Queen went on, looking off into space,

"perhaps you're right."

"He is just outside," said Dynamon rising. "Let me bring him in to you."

Before the little Queen could say anything more, Dynamon walked briskly

out to the mouth of the cave and hailed Mortoch.

"I remember hearing you say," he said, as the Chief Decurion came up to

him, "that you wouldn't mind staying here with Queen Diana. Well, it

seems that you are to have your wish. The Queen is determined to marry

one of us, and right at this moment, she is inclining toward you as a

husband. I think it's a fine idea."

Mortoch turned startled eyes on the centurion. Then he began to grin.

"Is that a command?" he asked.

"It is," Dynamon replied.

"I could do lots worse," said Mortoch, "although I'm liable to get

homesick now and then."

"Don't forget," said Dynamon, "you'll be King of Saturn, or at least,

of this part of Saturn. Go on inside, now, she's waiting for you."

Not long afterwards, Queen Diana, her eyes shining, appeared at the

entrance to her cave. Her hand rested lightly on Mortoch's arm, and

she announced to her people that at last she was taking a husband and

giving the Nether World of Saturn, a King. As cheer after cheer went

up from the bearded Saturnians, Dynamon bent over the Queen's hand and

kissed it. He, then, received gracious permission to take away as much

tridium as he needed.

* * * * *

Keltry stood between Dynamon and Thamon and the three of them stared

into the bow periscope screens in the control-room of the Carrier.

Borion came over and joined them.

"Well, there she is," said the navigator, fondly. "There was a time

back there on Saturn when I kind of doubted that any of us would ever

see her again."

The chief image in the screens was a glowing sphere about the size of

a man's head. It was Earth. Already, the watchers in the control-room

could make out the outlines of the continents.

"But at that, I guess we got off lightly," continued Borion, "We lost

thirty-nine men--including Mortoch--but just think what we're bringing

back! We've got enough tridium in these three Carriers to divide up

among ten thousand men. I was afraid we might have trouble with so much

of the stuff--afraid it might affect the magnets."

"No, it's a curiously inert substance," said Thamon, "I suppose that's

why it can absorb the terrific shock of the Photo-Atomic Ray so easily.

What's the news from Headquarters, Dynamon?"

"It's pretty sketchy," said the centurion, "Argallum was afraid to say

too much for fear the Martians might be able to decode the message.

But it looks as if we are going to be just about in the nick of time.

The Martian invasion began ten months ago, just about the time we were

leaving Saturn. Even though they came without warning in thousands of

ships, our people managed to beat them off for quite a while. Some

cities were destroyed, but Copia wasn't touched--too well guarded.

But then, even though our people maintained, and still do maintain,

superiority in the air, those Martian devils found some remote desert

spot unguarded and landed thousands of their men. They were all

equipped with the Ray, of course, and our land forces simply couldn't

stand up against them. They've been driving steadily ever since, and

right now, they're within seventy miles of Copia."

"Whew!" gasped Borion.

"I should say we _are_ in the nick of time," said Keltry.

"Heavens!" exclaimed Thamon, "I shudder to think what would happen to

the World right now, Keltry, if you hadn't fallen down that pit!"

"That's right," laughed Dynamon.

Just then, a communications man walked into the control-room and handed

Dynamon a message.

He read it avidly.

"That's good news," the centurion remarked, looking up from the piece

of paper, "Argallum is sending a heavy convoy to meet us. How soon will

we be landing, Borion?"

"Well, we should hit the top of the stratosphere in less than an hour,"

the navigator replied. "From there on down--at reduced speed--will

probably take another two hours."

"In that case," said Dynamon, "I think we'd better shut down on all

conversation. Even Argallum doesn't know what we're bringing back--I'm

taking no chances on having our secret get out to the enemy. He only

knows that we are returning with two captured Martian Carriers. So,

make your dispositions, Borion, because in five minutes I'm going to

order everyone on all three ships to landing stations."

* * * * *

The next three hours were tense ones for the returning expedition.

Even though a convoy had been promised, Dynamon was apprehensive about

possible attacks by the Martians, who, he was sure, must know something

of what was going on. But as it worked out, a perfect cloud of gray

Cosmos Carriers came out to meet the voyagers from Saturn, and Dynamon

was able to set his ships down at Vanadium Field without mishap.

A heavy guard was thrown around the precious cargoes, and the young

centurion was whisked away to Government City.

"What did you find?" The Commander-in-Chief's face was haggard.

"We found tridium," said Dynamon, "tons of it. We had an opportunity to

test it, and it proved to be a complete defense against the Ray."

"How difficult is it to get at?"

"Not difficult at all," said Dynamon, "we brought back enough to equip

nearly ten thousand men."

"Heaven be praised!" said Argallum fervently, "We might pull out of

this situation yet. Those devils have been sweeping everything before

them. We cut off their communications with our air power but that

didn't stop them. They've been living off the land, and they're so

powerful that they've been able to overrun territory at will."

Dynamon glanced at his watch. "It is almost noon," he said, "It will

take just one counter-attack to break through their line and roll it

up in both directions. If you throw attack-units forward as fast as

they can be equipped with tridium, you will have the Martians in a rout

before sundown."

And it was so.

Dynamon stood beside Argallum two hours later, on a little knoll sixty

miles out of Copia. A wide plain stretched before their eyes and across

its width, a beaten, discouraged army of humans gave ground slowly

before hordes of tiny, malevolent creatures from another planet. As

the two men watched, a fresh column of Earth-soldiers issued forth

from a woods in the center of the plain. There was a curious greenish

shimmer surrounding this new column--a will-o'-the-wisp, mirage-like

quality--and it advanced without hesitation straight into the serried

ranks of the terrible Martians.

"Great Heavens!" cried Argallum, "They're walking right up to them! And

not a man is down! Look! The Martians are reeling back! Our voltage

bombs are killing them like flies!"

Dynamon turned away from the scene of carnage with a curious smile. He

knew that Argallum in his gratitude would probably want to throw every

conceivable honor and promotion at him. For bringing three Carrier

loads of tridium back from Saturn, he, Dynamon, would very likely

become a World-wide hero. And yet, he reflected, it was a feat which

could never have been accomplished if it hadn't been for a series of

unrelated incidents. If Keltry hadn't stowed away, she couldn't have

fallen down the pit, thus leading to the discovery of Queen Diana's

Nether World. If Mortoch had not rebelled and tried to kill him with a

voltage bomb--. If he hadn't happened to touch the rock with his back--.

Dynamon turned and looked out on to the battle field where the

victorious Earth-soldiers in their tridium-auras were vengefully

slaughtering the hideous Martians. And he thought of the incident which

had to precede all the other incidents so that he could bring back the

tridium. That was the incident which had occurred hundreds of years

before, when a man named Leonard Bolton had built a "space ship" and

had traveled to Saturn in it, breaking through the burnt-out crust

into the Nether World, boring the long hole with his clumsy medieval

Carrier. That was the hole that Keltry had fallen into.

Dynamon shook his head. Leonard Bolton had built his "space ship" in

the year 1956, the last year but one of the long series of frightful

wars, in which the divided peoples of the World tried to destroy one

another--and very nearly succeeded.