THE FIGHT IN THE CRATER.
Grandon groped his way to the Olban airship in the pitchy darkness.
While it was yet light, he had noticed that the side door of the
domelike cab stood open, and he made up his mind to enter and explore
the interior, although he had small hope of being able to run it.
A brilliant flash from the volcano, reflected by the clouds, the
boiling water, and the crystal dome, showed him his objective. He
entered the cab and closed the door.
Moving his hands carefully about the interior, he felt two cushioned
seats and a number of handles, levers and buttons. At random, he
pressed a small button, whereupon a tiny light cast its radiance down
on him from the top of the dome.
For a moment he was bewildered by the imposing array of levers, handles
and buttons. Then, to his delight, he saw that each was marked in the
simple phonetic characters of the universal language which had been
taught him by Vorn Vangal.
He seized a lever marked "Cab Control" and moved it to the left.
Immediately the cab revolved to the right, sliding smoothly and
noiselessly. He pressed downward on the lever and the cab slanted
backward. Being in the form of a perfect sphere it could not only be
turned from side to side, but could be tilted forward or backward in
its socket. Upon his straightening the lever, the cab resumed its
original position.
The advantage of such an arrangement was obvious. From the front of
the craft, to right and left, projected two guns labeled "mattork."
The mattorks were weapons similar in construction to torks, but
much larger, and firing projectiles of far heavier caliber. Another
projected through the keel. By a touch of the cab control lever these
mattorks could be trained on an enemy in any position.
Grandon loaded one mattork with explosive metal bullets and the other
with deadly glass bullets. The keel-mattork was already loaded with
explosive metal bullets. What a battle he would give the accursed
grampites in the morning! If he could only solve the secret of flying
the strange craft, he would make a night raid, but he had nothing to
guide him except the parting meager explanation of Vorn Vangal that
Olban airships were moved by a mechanism which amplified telekinesis,
the force inherent in will-power.
Constant thoughts of Vernia dominated his mind. His reason told him
that she must be dead, that she had probably been killed many hours
before, but despite this, hope persisted--a slender hope born of an
overpowering desire--a hope that no amount of reason could overcome
without irrefutable confirmation.
As he hoped, he wished intensely--earnestly. Then suddenly his wish
bore fruit, for the airship began slowly to rise from the ground.
He had once listened, with scant attention, to a lecture by a noted
psychologist. He recalled dimly the assertion that every living
human being is endowed at birth with all the potential powers of the
subjective mind, but that few develop such powers to any appreciable
extent.
So it was with Grandon. He had unconsciously mastered the power of
telekinesis after a fashion, but he needed practice to develop and
perfect it. Before making for the mountain he sailed about in the
air for a considerable time, practicing the turning, elevating, and
lowering of his craft by purely mental control. At length, feeling that
he was master of the airship, he made for the mountain peak.
* * * * *
Very cautiously he made a landing on the outer rim of the crater, then
crept to the top to reconnoiter. As he peered over the brink a sight
greeted his eyes which, prepared though he was for something of the
sort, caused him to gasp in horror.
It was as if the most terrifying dreams of Milton and Dante had been
fused into one to form the fearful reality before him, for there in the
blood-red glow of the molten lava, swarmed countless thousands of the
demoniac inhabitants of this planetary inferno, croaking hoarsely to
each other as they moved about on the ledges or fluttered from place
to place. Mingled with the noises made by the grampites in the bedlam
of sounds that came up to him, were the piteous bleating and cries of
countless animals in the pits.
Directly beneath him, a huge grampite emerged from a cave and heaved a
human body far out into the fiery lake. He recognized the uniform of
the Olban officer who had been captured at the side of the airship a
few hours before.
Horrified and enraged, Grandon walked stealthily around the edge of
the pit, hoping to find some path by which he might make his way,
unnoticed, to the ledges beneath. Were it not for that faint ray of
hope that Vernia might still be alive, he would have returned to his
craft and raked the ledges with the deadly fire of the mattorks, but as
it was, he would have chosen to explore every cave unarmed, rather than
imperil her life by gunfire.
He had gone perhaps a third of the way around the mountain top when he
heard a scream of terror, followed by another and another. It was the
voice he had heard on the river bank two nights before, the voice of
Vernia.
Startled to instant action, Grandon scrambled and slid precipitately
down to the top ledge, leaped the ten feet to the second and a like
distance to the third, and ran directly to the pit from which the
sounds emanated. Twelve feet down he saw Vernia struggling in the
clutches of her captor, while the two terrified little animals hugged
the wall. In an instant he was at her side. A stroke of his keen blade
severed the bony arm that gripped her, and another sent the gory head
of the monster rolling on the floor.
"Come," he said, "we must get out of here at once."
"But how?" she asked. "The walls are as smooth as glass. I'm afraid
escape from this pit is impossible. If we could fly--"
Her words were cut short by a terrific onslaught from above. Grandon
had been seen descending the terraces and a general alarm had been
sounded. The first attacker was the ugly she-grampite whose mate had
just been slain. As the keen blade ripped her belly she fell to the
floor.
With his back to the wall and the girl crouching at his side, Grandon
fought desperately with sword and knife. Again and again his blade
drank blood, as his hideous adversaries swooped down upon him. The
pile of carcasses before him grew breast high before he realized that
they were likely to be smothered beneath them. Calling to the girl to
follow, he leaped atop the pile of his dead enemies, and fought from
that position. After that he constantly shifted from side to side,
while the pit continued to fill with his slain assailants, who came
on in increasing numbers, recklessly disregarding the fate of their
companions.
[Illustration: _Again and again his blade drank dark blood._]
Torn and bleeding from many wounds, he at length stood with head and
shoulders above the edge of the pit. This left him open to attack from
the rear, and forced him to adopt new tactics. Bringing his tork into
play, he sent a spray of bullets about him in a circle, temporarily
demoralizing the attackers. The slight respite gave him time to assist
Vernia from the pit, and together they ran into the cave where she had
been appraised by the ghoulish mate of her captor.
* * * * *
They found a narrow passageway at the back of the cave, and groped
their way in the pitchy blackness for some distance before they came to
another narrow gallery crossing it at right angles. Soon they were in a
veritable labyrinth of caves and galleries, leading farther and farther
into the mountain. All about them sounded the croaks of the pursuing
grampites, and it was only by the utmost strategy that they avoided
detection.
They had wandered for more than an hour in the subterranean maze when
a narrow-lighted opening appeared ahead. Very cautiously Grandon led
the way toward this opening, hoping it would offer an avenue of escape.
When they were within a short distance of it, he went ahead alone to
reconnoiter. A moment later he returned, enjoining the utmost silence
to his companion, and together they tiptoed forward.
They were at the rear door of a cave similar to the one through which
they had entered the mountain, but considerably larger. For the
first time Vernia saw a grampite family in repose. There were twelve
individuals in the family group, the huge male, his mate, six tiny
specimens on which the down had just begun to appear, and four about
half grown, all hanging upside down by their sharp, curved toenails,
which were hooked in crevices in the wall. The father of the family
hung near the cave mouth, the mother depended from one side with
the six members of her latest litter beside her, and the half grown
offsprings occupied positions on the opposite wall.
It was a most singular sight, even in this land of weird creatures, but
Grandon and Vernia had no time for leisurely sight-seeing. Already the
sounds of pursuit were growing louder behind them.
"Come," he whispered. "I believe we can get out without disturbing
them. If they waken I will use the tork."
Very quietly, they made their way toward the cave mouth. When they
reached the center of the floor the male grampite stirred uneasily, and
Grandon held his weapon in readiness, but the creature merely stretched
one wing a bit, then folded it and resumed his slumber. A moment later
they stood on the topmost ledge with fifteen feet of steep crater wall
to negotiate before they could reach the rim.
They succeeded in clambering to the top, unobserved, and to his
inestimable relief, Grandon sighted the glistening dome of the Olban
airship only a hundred yards from where they emerged.
Vernia's eyes were wide with amazement as he opened the door of the cab
and seated her on the cushions.
"An Olban airship!" she gasped. "Where did you get it? Why, I thought
only trained Olban officers could run them."
While she spoke they were mounting high in the air. She turned and
looked him squarely in the eyes.
"Grandon of Terra," she exclaimed, "have you deceived me? Are you of
Olba?"
He related how he had acquired the airship, and she shuddered as he
told of the death of the two officers who had brought it thither.
"As for deceiving you, my princess," he concluded, "I should sooner
tear out my right eye."
She laid her hand gently on his arm.
"It makes me very happy to hear you say that," she whispered.
He thrilled at her touch and words, but did not turn his head. Had he
seen her eyes at that moment--But he didn't. There was grim purpose in
his glance as he examined the mattorks. The craft was now poised far
above the glowing crater.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"I'm going to teach those devils a lesson they will not soon forget,"
he replied. "The ship of the two men they murdered will now wreak
vengeance on them."
They descended swiftly until the airship was on a level with the
topmost ledge. Grandon pulled the cab control lever, until both
mattorks were trained over the side, then circled the crater and
poured a deadly fusillade among the bewildered grampites. Soon the air
was black with the creatures, dozens of whom attacked the craft, but
without success. They struck at it again and again with their sharp
claws and, finding this attempt unavailing, a number of them swarmed on
the deck and endeavored to get at the inmates of the cab.
"Give me your tork," said Vernia.
He unbuckled his belt and handed her the weapon. She opened the door a
little way and soon cleared the deck of enemies. Then, while Grandon
raked ledge after ledge with the death-dealing fire of the mattorks,
she shot down those of the flying attackers who came within range. Most
of them fell into the fiery lake, and soon the air was filled with the
sickening stench of scorched flesh and hair.
* * * * *
For more than an hour they circled the crater, at the end of which
time not a living grampite was in sight. The ledges were strewn with
thousands of carcasses, and the lake of lava was sending up black
clouds of nauseating smoke as it consumed those brought down by the
tork. Grandon estimated that at least two-thirds of the hideous
population of that crater had been exterminated. The others had been
driven to cover, and would probably not emerge while the airship was in
sight.
The avenging craft again rose high above the mountain.
"Now to return you to Reabon," said Grandon. "Can you tell me which way
it lies from here?"
"As I recall it, this place lies across the Azpok ocean, directly south
of Reabon. If you will steer due north, we should be able to arrive on
ground that will be familiar to me, and we can then easily make our way
to the capital."
Grandon examined the Olban compass, which hung suspended by a tiny wire
in the front of the cab.
"I presume that, as in my own world, the compass always points toward
the north," he said.
"It should," replied Vernia, "unless deflected by some counter magnetic
attraction."
Grandon set his course accordingly, traveling swiftly at a height of
approximately two thousand feet.
They would probably have landed safely in Reabon had it not been for
one fact, of which neither was cognizant. In his haste to be off,
Grandon did not notice that the compass pointed continually toward
the front of the craft. The counter-attraction of which Vernia had
hinted was an actuality, for the mechanism which moved the airship was
highly magnetic. A powerful magnet had been placed behind the cab to
offset the pull of the mechanism in front, but this had been broken
off during the battle with the grampites. As the ship happened to be
pointed to the west when Grandon set his course, they were traveling in
that direction in the belief that they should reach Reabon by morning,
blissfully ignorant of the dangers which lay ahead of them.
The ship was amply stored with provisions and water, and they ate their
first food in nearly twenty-four hours while hurtling through space at
a terrific rate of speed.
"Try to go to sleep now," said Grandon, gently, when they had finished.
"In a few hours you will be safely home in your imperial palace, and I
will return to my faithful mountaineers. Then we can continue our war
whenever it pleases you to move against Uxpo."
"What if I should not choose to move against Uxpo?"
"You would save the useless waste of thousands of human lives, and
thereby place me eternally in your debt."
"You have already put me under an obligation to you for which my entire
empire would not be sufficient recompense. Since you will not accept
the second highest office in Zarovia, I have decided to free Uxpo. We
shall be neighbors and, I hope, friends."
"In the name of the people of Uxpo I thank you for your generous
decision, and--"
He was interrupted by a series of rude shocks and a rending crash as
they came to a complete standstill. Both were thrown violently against
the front of the cab. Grandon struck his head on the butt of a mattork
and lost consciousness. Vernia was more fortunate, as she fell feet
foremost, although her ankle received a bad wrench.
When she saw Grandon's face, pale as death, and the blood flowing from
an ugly cut on his forehead, an agonized cry came from her lips. She
flung herself down beside him and took his head in her lap. To her
utter relief, she heard the beating of his heart when she placed her
ear to his breast. Opening one of the provision drawers, she extracted
a flask of water therefrom and bathed his face.
Presently he opened his eyes.
"What happened?" he asked. "What struck us?"
"I do not know," she replied. "Lie quietly while I dress your wound.
Then we will investigate."