"The women! Listen! You can hear them. They're trailing me up the
ravine like a pack of hounds. Oh, my God, don't let them take me...."
"Shut up!" said Matt. "How can we hear anything with you squalling?"
The man stopped talking. In the silence, Matt could hear a faint
yelping. It did sound something like an excited pack of hounds. And yet
there was a weird bloodcurdling overtone that was half human.
Matt could feel the hair rising on the back of his neck like the
hackles of a dog.
"That's them! That's them!" The half-naked man screamed. He dropped to
his knees. "Don't let them catch me. Look!" He turned around. Livid
scars striped his back. Whip scars.
Matt sprang to his feet. "Get the rifles!" he cried over his shoulder,
and ran from the room.
Armed with his rifle and a powerful spotlight, Matt dashed down the
passage and brought up panting at the open air lock. It was night, but
there was a full moon. The scrub pine and oak reared up on either hand,
black and silver.
The ululating cries were closer now, ringing up the valley. He could
see lights flashing back and forth in the trees as the pack cast about
for the fugitive's trail in the dark.
Matt stood in the round port, the passage behind him jammed with the
curious members of the expedition.
All at once, the shouting below fell silent, the lights winked off.
"What is it? Do you see anything?" Trigg called nervously.
"Nothing." Matt realized that he was silhouetted against the light in
the passage. "Turn off the lights."
In an instant they blinked out. Matt found that he could see better. He
could make out the black circle charred bare by the jets when they had
landed, the ringing wall of pines.
"There's something moving in the trees!" he informed the others. He
could feel a shudder pass over them. "Where's that man?"
Lynn answered, "Back in the messroom, gibbering. Barb's trying to get
sense out of him, but he seems terrified of her."
Matt caught a flash of white from the trees below and stiffened.
Then, dainty as a wolf, a woman stepped into the bare moonlit circle
surrounding the _Argus_. She threw back her head to stare up at the
towering spaceship. She was dressed in boots and breeches, but they
couldn't conceal her sex.
"Hey, you up there!" she called in clear ringing tones. "Who are you?"
"The National Cosmographic Society's Expedition to Mars," Matt replied
cautiously.
There was a vague stirring from the black wood, but no other figures
appeared.
"You mean you've just returned from Mars?" the woman asked.
"Yes."
"Lower a ladder. I'm coming aboard."
Matt, who had caught the dull gleam of moonlight on metal, said, "Leave
your rifle at the edge of the wood."
The woman hesitated; then she leaned something against a tree. Matt
gave the signal; the ladder slowly descended and came to rest. He saw
the woman take hold of the rungs and begin to climb.
"Give me a hand," she said.
He extended his hand and she grasped it. He was surprised at
the strength of her grip as she hoisted herself to the deck and
straightened. She gave him a penetrating look from narrowed eyes and
then flung her glance over the faces blocking the passage. She was as
tall as he was, Matt realized, with hair cropped short about her face.
Matt said, "The lights!" and swung the port shut at the same instant,
shooting the bolts.
The woman crouched like an animal. Then the lights came on. Her hair,
Matt saw, was red as flame, her eyes green and oblong. She licked her
lips.
"Who are you?" Matt asked bluntly. "Why were you prowling around the
ship?"
The woman straightened again slowly. "Did you see anything of a man
coming this way?"
"Yes. He's in there." Matt nodded toward the messroom. "What did you
want with him?"
The woman looked vaguely surprised. "He's mine!" she said. "He ran
away!"
* * * * *
Gradually Matt had become aware of a subtle difference that set the
woman apart from the others. It was not so much her appearance as the
way she carried herself--the set of her head, the level appraising
coolness of her green eyes.
Arrogance!