Concor shrugged. "Since you are new here I should explain that there
are no rules in the fight. If Tichron wins he can break your back with
impunity. Probably he will. He has cruel whims. That is also your
problem, and I leave it to you, willingly. However, just as advice,
stay clear and do not grapple with him. Keep away and strike out
hard with your fists. Some blows may get through all the blubber and
muscles. If you give him a good enough fight, he may even respect you
enough to let you live. Crippled, of course...."
A ragged crowd-shout ordered the start of the fight. The hyenas were
impatient for the carnivores.
Tichron was advancing, slowly and confidently. Wilding stood up and
moved slowly into the circle of combat. The cleared space was small,
the ground surface uneven.
Wilding feigned nervous indecision. He appeared to hesitate, as if
contemplating flight.
Laughter and jeers flicked him like whips.
Lowering his head, he moved with lightning swiftness. His move was
totally unexpected. Rushing across the arena, he flung himself at
Tichron like a living battering ram. His head connected solidly with
Tichron's midriff. Breath gushed from the giant like air forced from
a trodden balloon. Doubling up, Tichron reeled backward. His fists
flying, Wilding hammered the exposed face. Tichron straightened long
enough to receive a knee in the place most painful to him. The shock
almost lost him the fight at once, but he recovered and hurled Wilding
across the arena.
Wilding caught up a stone bench and flung it, but the light gravity
betrayed his effort. It went wild. Nearly weightless, it still had
mass, and part of the entranced onlookers avoided being brained only by
undignified scramblings.
Now Wilding and Tichron circled each other warily. Tichron stopped
circling and slid forward in liquid rhythm of movement. He caught
Wilding flat-footed, jerked the lighter man off his feet and raised
him high overhead. Wilding crashed to the floor with stunning force.
Tichron leaped to come down on his prone opponent with both feet. But
Wilding was already rolling. He caught one of Tichron's feet, twisted
and jerked. The giant sat down violently.
As Tichron rose, Wilding launched himself in a suicidal dive at the
giant's stomach. Again he connected like a battering ram. The sound
of expelled breath was explosive. This time, as Tichron bent double,
Wilding brought up his knee against the exposed jaw. There was a loud
crack. Pawing frantically, Tichron went down in a heap. Wilding jumped,
brought both feet down on the quivering hulk. It was like leaping on a
rock. But Tichron was through fighting. He lay peacefully unconscious.
The fight was over before it had well started.
Jeers changed suddenly to cheers. As winner and new champion, Wilding
was king of Alcatraz. But not undisputed king--
A tall, cadaverous man stepped from the crowd.
"My name is Credus. I challenge you now?"
Wilding turned to Concor. "Is that in the rules--to fight one after
another like this?"
"There are no rules," said the wily Martian.
"In that case--"
Wilding snatched a blaster pistol from the spring clip on Tiny's belt.
He jammed the muzzle hard into Credus' side, but not before Credus had
drawn his own gun and thrust it at Wilding.
Neither could miss, but it was deadlock.
"I'll bargain with you, Credus," suggested Wilding. "Unless you want to
chance pulling that trigger."
"What bargain?" asked Credus sourly.
"Meet me here again in two Earth-weeks. I will fight you then without a
gun, or turn the asteroid over to you."
Credus shrugged. "I am not a fool, halfling. But be here, or I will
find you and kill you."
Credus stalked darkly from the arena, followed in silence by a full
third of the assembled prisoners. With his departure, the cheers
for Wilding were less enthusiastic, as if the throng disapproved of
Wilding's trickery.
Tiny, the Amazon, was kneeling beside Tichron, who was conscious now,
but breathing heavily.
"She was a nurse on Earth," explained Concor. "Before she got the habit
of strangling her fretful patients."
The woman looked up and smiled brightly. "That gun of mine is loaded
with alternating blanks," she observed. "I kept wondering if Credus
would call your bluff."
Wilding met her glance. "So did I," he admitted. "And I remembered
about those blanks. Can you do anything for Tichron?"
"Better kill him," advised Grouth impatiently. "It is your right."
"Let him live," said Wilding, frowning. "I may have some use for him."
The girl Amyth sneered unpleasantly. "The man has a mania for utility.
Have you some use for me, halfling?"
"Halfling, yourself!" replied Wilding, with anger rising in him.
"Perhaps, I have--when I have less important things to manage. But
I'll let you know. Don't rush your luck."
A slow flush crept into her cheek, but she swallowed a corrosive
retort. After all, Wilding was boss, and her arms were brittle.
Wilding turned to Grouth. "Who are the technicians? I'll want all kinds
to get that lighter in shape for space."
Grouth laughed bitterly. "Time enough. Concor can help you select the
technicians. He's one of them, and a spaceship wrecker has to know many
technical trades. But you'll need more than men, you'll need miracles."
Concor broke in. "He's right, Wilding. We have skilled labor to work
with, but no materials. Metal is scarce here, but we can junk some
machine tools for part of what we'll need. The real lack is fuel. You
can't process metal without heat, and you can't power a space-lighter
with non-existent chemicals. They leave only enough chemical fuel each
time to power the lighter for the next pickup. I will back your play,
but I'm no good at working miracles. I've even forgotten how to pray,
and I doubt if any known or unknown gods would heed a prayer from me."
"I don't pray for miracles. I arrange them. Can't the lighter be
converted to use atomic power?"
Concor waved empty hands. "Not easily. It could be, probably, but what
is the use? Where would we get activated fuels?"
"No fuel," repeated Grouth, his voice like a dirge.
"There are radioactive elements in this asteroid," argued Wilding.
"Can't they be used?"
Concor shook his head grimly. "They are here, true. But they are
useless to power an atomic converter for the lighter. For two good
reasons. We can't lay hands on them, literally. Without any shielding,
we would be burned like moths in a flame, and the danger of the Pit Men
is too great even if we dared invade their caverns. The Pit Men used
to be harmless and friendly, but they aren't now. Some of the convicts
found out they were good eating, organized hunts and stuffed themselves
on Pit Men. Nowadays, we rarely see a Pit Man. They slink about in the
caverns like shadows. And they wage a relentless guerilla warfare. Any
convict they catch alone is a dead convict. They rush him and overwhelm
him. Probably they eat him or use him to fertilize their nursery beds."
"I could talk to them and make a deal," said Wilding.
* * * * *
Every convict in hearing laughed harshly.
"Try it," suggested Amyth acidly. "Their arms are less brittle than
mine."
"And while you're at it," went on Concor, "ask them to mine and process
it for us. They're immune to radiation burns. In fact, they seem to
thrive on rays that are deadly to us. We've never dared invade the
lower caverns because of the radiation, which makes their homes an
impregnable fortress for the Pit Men."
Wilding nodded quickly, understanding.
"Could I go there and talk with them?" he demanded.
Concor shrugged in futility. "You could if you were foolish enough.
There would be some exposure, but not necessarily a fatal dose if you
made your stay short. The Pit Men will kill you before the radiation
does."
Tichron was stirring. He blinked painfully and sat up, nursing some
cracked ribs. He stared at Wilding with frank admiration.
"It was a mistake to let me live," he said. "Someday I'll challenge you
for another try. But not right away. You fought me fairly and defeated
me. You give orders and I'll see that they're carried out. Also, a word
of warning. Credus is next in line, he thinks. Watch him. A stealthy
knife in the dark or a sudden shot from behind is his style. Sooner or
later, if that doesn't work out for him, he'll challenge you. But never
if you have a chance."
Wilding laughed sharply. "He already challenged, but we've postponed
the occasion. I'm going to try to make a deal with the Pit Men. Have
you any advice?"
Tichron's face worked curiously. He heaved his bulk erect and grimaced
with pain.
"Yes, some advice. Don't go. Certainly, not alone. If you insist, I'll
go along and show you the way."
"Thanks," said Wilding. "But you're in no shape for it. Rest up, and
I'll find work for you. Who else will go along and show me the way to
the Pits?"
He glanced round the circle of faces. Several of them paled and
disappeared with suspicious haste.
"I'll go," offered Tiny. "But I won't want to come back alone. Will
you come along, Amyth? The Pit Men have never offered to harm a woman.
Probably not from chivalry, but none of us have ever had the stomach to
try eating the filthy things."
"I'll come," agreed the girl quickly. "Perhaps we can watch while the
Pit Men work over our hero. I wouldn't want to miss that."
Wilding smiled savagely. "Perhaps I will let one of them break your
arms as part of the deal."
Before leaving with the women, Wilding gave orders to Grouth and
Concor. All the machine tools were to be put in running order. All
technicians assembled and ready to work on the space-lighter. Tichron
was ordered to bed to rest and recover from his beating.
Authority seemed to come naturally to Wilding.
He enjoyed the curious sensation of responsibility and power. His
previous life had given him no taste of organizing mass-effort. At
first, he had been a lonely, hunted fugitive, then later a solitary
beast of prey.
For a brief term, he had lived among the space plunderers, and he
had headed a piratical crew. But the role then had been that of
wolf-leader, one of the pack, with little authority and no great
responsibility to his fellows.
Here, partly by accident, he had achieved perilous command. The people,
such as they were, looked to him for decisions. They looked at him with
respect. Grudgingly, they yielded leadership, but only to him as a
better man. He felt a strange, new emotion.
He was contented, and oddly stimulated.
With Tiny and Amyth leading, he headed toward the deep caverns and his
dangerous business with the Pit Men who dwelt there....