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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fc1e93e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61869 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61869) diff --git a/old/61869-h.zip b/old/61869-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 987e0f4..0000000 --- a/old/61869-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61869-h/61869-h.htm b/old/61869-h/61869-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 281dca9..0000000 --- a/old/61869-h/61869-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1257 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Satellite of Fear, by Fred A. Kummer, Jr. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Satellite of Fear, by Frederic Arnold Kummer - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Satellite of Fear - -Author: Frederic Arnold Kummer - -Release Date: April 19, 2020 [EBook #61869] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SATELLITE OF FEAR *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="351" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>SATELLITE OF FEAR</h1> - -<h2>By FRED A. KUMMER, Jr.</h2> - -<p>Inside the crippled <i>Comet</i>, a hard-bitten<br /> -crew watched the life-giving oxygen run<br /> -low. Outside, on Ceres' fabled Darkside,<br /> -stalked death in awful, spectral form.</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Spring 1941.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The <i>Comet's</i> control-room was silent except for the monotonous beat -of Ken Grant's restless pacing. Six months on Ceres' frigid, shadowy -Darkside had driven the tan from his face, etched lines of worry about -his mouth. Darkside had a way of doing that to people. A temperature -of five above absolute zero, the grim, eternal darkness, the insane -landscape, combined to give an impression of unreality that made one -feel he was living some terrible nightmare.</p> - -<p>From time to time Grant glanced at the sidereal chronometer, shook his -head. Sixteen hours! Sixteen hours since Kennerly had left ... and the -heating unit of his space-suit had been good for three! Kennerly had -vanished, just as Allers had vanished before him! Two men had left the -disabled ship to try and reach Bowman's Crater, that last tiny outpost -only twenty miles away, and both men had disappeared. Had either Allers -or Kennerly been successful, a rescue ship from Bowman's Crater must -have come by now. But instead, the two spacemen had been swallowed up -by the gloom, vanished, leaving no trace. The bitter silent darkness -outside was like some yawning limitless void into which men went, and -did not return. Their position was bad enough in any case, but with a -woman in command....</p> - -<p>Grant shot a glance at the stack of big lead chests in a corner of the -cabin. Pitchblend—radium ore with an amazingly high metal content. The -ore in those big chests, when refined, would yield over a million in -the rare element. Not that a million would do them much good if they -couldn't get it away. With the main fuel intake valve cracked, the -motors, the radio, the air-regenerator, were all shut off. Death from -lack of oxygen faced them unless word got through.</p> - -<p>A click of the cabin's door broke Grant's thoughts. He turned; a -slender girl wearing riding breeches and leather jacket appeared in the -doorway. Pale, with deep smoke-gray eyes and auburn hair, she had a -fragile transcendental beauty that was very appealing, but her chin was -firm, determined.</p> - -<p>"Any news, Mr. Grant?" she asked quietly, stepping into the control -room.</p> - -<p>"None." He shook a gloomy head. "I don't like it! There's something -strange going on, Miss Conway! The trail's perfectly clear, there's no -life on Ceres that we know of. One man might conceivably meet with some -sort of accident, but not two! They tell stories about Darkside; queer -stories! About alien, unknown creatures."</p> - -<p>"I ... I know," the girl said tightly. "Dad used to hear those stories, -too, when he and Allers were prospecting here. When Dad died he -left me enough money to charter this ship, told me to come here to -Ceres for my legacy. Gave me the chart showing where this pocket of -pitchblend was located." She glanced at the lead chests. "Now Allers, -Dad's closest friend, is gone. And Kennerly. And we're trapped, made -virtual prisoners in this ship by something unknown—out there. We've -got to get word through, Mr. Grant! It's death to stay here until our -oxygen is gone. Death, maybe worse, waiting for us out there in the -darkness...." She broke off, suddenly, swaying.</p> - -<p>"Steady!" Grant gripped the girl's shoulder. "It's the bad air! I'll -go tell Harris to crack open one of the emergency oxygen flasks. You'd -better lie down."</p> - -<p>Like a flash the girl's red head snapped up. "You're a romanticist, -Mr. Grant," she said. "You seem to think I ought to be a languishing -heroine. Well, I'm not. I'm in command of this expedition and if -there're any risks to be taken, I'm taking them! Have Harris open an -oxygen flask and then check over my space-suit! As soon as I get my -breath, I'm going out and look for Allers and Kennerly!" She waved -aside Grant's remonstrances. "Orders, Mr. Grant!"</p> - -<p>Face stony, Grant left the control room, strode along the companionway -to the fo'castle. The <i>Comet's</i> crew, perhaps half a dozen men all -told, were stretched upon their bunks, faces drawn as they fought -against the stale air. Grant motioned to Harris, the squat, ugly mate.</p> - -<p>"Air's getting thick," he said. "Better crack an emergency tube."</p> - -<p>"Aye, aye, sir!" Harris lifted a steel plate in the floor, swung down -the iron ladder. Some moments later he emerged from the storehold, -carrying an oxygen flask.</p> - -<p>"Funny!" The mate rubbed his stubbly chin. "I coulda swore we had -twenty emergency flasks below. But there's only five more down there."</p> - -<p>"Five!" Grant's eyes narrowed. "There were twenty when we left earth! I -counted 'em!"</p> - -<p>"That's not all," Harris muttered. "There's other stores missing! -Wire, tools, batteries, spare plates for repairing the hull!" His eyes -flicked toward the darkness beyond the portholes. "There were plenty -of times we were all down at the mine working when whatever it was -that got Allers and Kennerly might have entered the ship, taken those -things. I've seen shadows out there sometimes. Shadows that weren't -just right, sliding among the rocks. And ... and it's bad luck to have -a woman aboard ship."</p> - -<p>A silence fell over the cabin. Grant frowned. Five flasks of oxygen ... -and the air-regenerator useless without power! Nothing could save them -unless word got through to Bowman's Crater, on the edge of the Cerean -Darkside. Two men had tried to get through, and those two men had -vanished. To permit Joan Conway to attempt the trip was unthinkable. -Grant reached for one of the bulky space-suits that hung on the wall.</p> - -<p>"All right, men," he grated. "We're going to get to the bottom of this! -Here's the plan! I'll take the trail to Bowman's Crater; the same trail -Allers and Kennerly took! If there's anything lying in wait out there, -it ought to attack me, and I'll be armed! At the same time I want you, -Harris, and you, Miller, to go out also, to climb the other side of the -crater and circle about, picking up the trail to Bowman's a mile or so -from here. I'll draw <i>It's</i> attention, while you try to get through and -take word to the outpost. Got it?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The three men nodded, climbed into the heavily insulated space-suits. -Electric heating wires ran through the lining, from portable batteries -good for several hours, enabling the men within them to maintain -comfortable warmth even though the soles of their thick lead gravity -shoes, in contact with the icy ground, were within a few degrees of -absolute zero. Gloves of heavy lead, a part of every radium miner's -equipment as protection against the highly concentrated ore he was -forced to handle, covered the asbestoid "hands" of the space-suits. -Grant paused before snapping his transparent plastic helmet into place, -turned to the men who were to remain aboard the <i>Comet</i>.</p> - -<p>"Miss Conway's feeling a little ragged because of the air," he said, -unsmilingly. "When she's better, tell her where we've gone."</p> - -<p>The men grinned understandingly. They knew that the girl, in spite of -her frail form, felt that command of the expedition required her to -share in all its dangers. And Grant, like most men who had spent their -lives on far-flung frontiers, seeking adventure in the woman-less -outposts of terrestial civilization, had curiously archaic ideas of -chivalry, to say nothing of deep-rooted convictions that a woman's -place was on earth. Disregarding the grins of the men, he closed his -helmet, opened the valve of his oxygen tank.</p> - -<p>"Ready?" he barked into the mouthpiece of his radio communications set.</p> - -<p>Two space-suited figures nodded grimly behind their helmets, followed -Grant through the airlock. In the clean, airless void the stars shone -like white beacons, shedding a thin eerie light over the barren plain. -A dark inferno worthy of a Dore's brush, it seemed, malevolent, -intangibly evil. Tortured pinnacles of rock, jagged spires stabbing at -the sable sky; deep craters, dug by countless meteors, pock-marking -the bleak terrain; yawning crevasses, towering cliffs, jagged, -sharp-angled blocks of stone, for Darkside had neither sun, air, nor -rain to round them, soften their weird outlines.</p> - -<p>Grant loosened his heat-gun in its holster, glanced about. Up the side -of the big crater, in which the mine-shaft and the space-ship lay, was -a poorly defined trail, winding in and out among the towering rocks. -This was the way to Bowman's, the little mining town situated in the -twilight zone between Ceres' bitter Darkside and its blazing Sunside. -Allers and Kennerly had taken that rude trail. Grant waved Harris and -Miller to the right.</p> - -<p>"You'll make a long half-circle," he announced. "It'll be tough going, -but with my following the trail, I should draw any attack and enable -you to pick up the trail further along, and reach Bowman's. Okay, now. -Let's go!"</p> - -<p>Harris and Miller disappeared among the up-thrust monoliths, Grant -swung along the trail. In spite of his heavy space-suit and his -thick lead-soled gravity shoes, he was able to move at a brisk pace, -hand on his gun, eyes probing the gloom to right and left. Onward he -went, steadily, skirting craters, leaping narrow crevasses, squeezing -through rocky defiles whose overhanging ledges often met to form a dark -passageway. For all the heating wires within his suit, he could feel -the cold; the utter silence was maddening.</p> - -<p>Grant stared at the murky shadows with narrowed eyes. What was it that -had spirited away Allers and Kennerly, two brave men, well armed? Some -unknown force of nature, or something more tangible? Superstitious -spacemen whispered of monstrous reptilian beasts, of space-pirates' -hide-outs, of strange, spectral Shapes. Drink-inspired hallucinations, -Grant had said scornfully. Now he was not so sure. So little was known -of Darkside.</p> - -<p>Suddenly Grant froze in his tracks. In the middle of the path, perhaps -a hundred feet ahead, was a strange, grotesque figure. Swathed in -a bulky space-suit, it crouched ape-like on the ground, feet flat -against the rock, hands touching the trail as though to balance itself. -Motionless as some robot it crouched there, in a patch of white frost, -seemingly poised to spring.</p> - -<p>Grant's heat-gun rose to cover the strange figure. His voice shook as -he spoke into his communications set.</p> - -<p>"Who's there? What'd you want?"</p> - -<p>The crouching figure made no reply. Very deliberately Grant pressed the -trigger of the heat-gun, aiming it at the motionless form's feet. Dirt, -chips of stone, flew up, but the crouching form did not move. Muscles -tense, Grant moved forward. Pale starlight winked on the unknown's -helmet. All at once Grant gasped. Behind the transparent glass of the -headpiece, the man's features were visible. Distorted, despairing -features set in an expression of ghastly, appalling horror! -Kennerly ... dead!</p> - -<p>Grant bent over the grim figure, tried to lift it. One of Kennerly's -fingers, frozen solid, snapped within the space-suit like brittle -glass. Grant glanced warily about. If he could get the body back to -the ship, find out how Kennerly had died, there might be a chance of -overcoming the menace that lurked on this shadowy insane world. All -at once his eyes caught queer dark streaks on a rock not far from the -inert figure ... letters, words, that looked as if they had been made -by a heat-gun's blast. Slowly he deciphered the scrawled sentences. -"Allers dead. No hope. Unknown forces. Doomed."</p> - -<p>Grant's jaw tightened. Kennerly's last message! And somehow he had -known that Allers was dead, that there was no hope. Face set in harsh -lines, Grant swung the body over his shoulder, set out along the trail -to the <i>Comet</i>.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The silence in the space-ship's control-room was thick, breathless. A -frail figure against the rivet-studded bulkhead, Joan Conway stared -with horror-filled eyes at the grim figure on the floor. They had -removed Kennerly's space-suit, and with the warmth of the cabin the -stump of the frozen finger which Grant had inadvertently broken off was -beginning to seep blood. The girl forced her voice to remain steady.</p> - -<p>"Under the circumstances, Mr. Grant," she said tightly, "I have decided -to overlook your disobedience of orders until we return to earth ... if -we do. Are there any clues on Kennerly?"</p> - -<p>Grant, kneeling beside the dead man, examining him carefully, shook -his head.</p> - -<p>"Nothing," he muttered. "No holes in his suit, no signs of anything -that might have killed him other than the cold. The battery of his -heating unit's run down. And he had a full charge when he left. We -checked it. Why he should follow the trail a mile or so from the ship -and then sit there for hours, until the failing battery brought death -by freezing.... It's suicide!"</p> - -<p>"Maybe he got lost, wandered around until he died," one of the -space-hands suggested.</p> - -<p>"No good." Again Grant shook a somber head. "The trail's perfectly -clear. I found him in a deep patch of hoar frost, like snow. Condensed -moisture from the escape valve of his helmet. An extraordinarily large -patch of 'snow.' Get what that means? Frost patches in this airless -void can only mean the moisture from a space-suit's exhaust. And a pile -of 'snow' like that about him, could only be the result of remaining -hours in one spot. Kennerly left this ship for Bowman's Crater, got -about two miles away and then crouched down to wait for death. Crouched -there for hours, until his heating unit ran out of juice and he froze. -Why?" Grant motioned to the inert form' with its terrified countenance. -"He had sustained no injury, could have followed a perfectly clear path -back to the ship, and instead he crouched there until he died!"</p> - -<p>"Maybe something held him," Joan suggested. "Magnetism."</p> - -<p>Grant picked up the asbestoid space-suit. "Fiber, glassex helmet, -rust-proof copper fittings, lead gravity shoes. No iron or steel on -it. Another thing. How did he know Allers was dead? What did he mean -by 'unknown forces' and 'no hope?' There's something devilish, unreal, -out there. Something that's determined to keep us from getting word -through, determined to keep us here until we die from lack of oxygen! -Just like Kennerly died from lack of heat. It's afraid to attack us, -but tries to trap us, until we die."</p> - -<p>Again silence fell over the cabin. The remaining space-hands glanced -from Kennerly's body to the windows, the clinging darkness outside. -Joan's gaze sought the leaden chests; she laughed unhumorously.</p> - -<p>"Pitchblend! A million in radium! And what good is it? All our work -here to get it and now no chance of ever reaching earth."</p> - -<p>"We'll get word through somehow." Grant squared his shoulders. "Maybe -Harris and Miller...."</p> - -<p>As Grant spoke, a furious tocsin of blows sounded upon the main -airlock. The spacemen whirled, groping for guns. Face set, Grant -stepped toward the inner door of the lock.</p> - -<p>"Keep me covered," he snapped, drawing the massive pneumatic bolts.</p> - -<p>As the heavy steel door swung open, Joan gave a sudden gasp. Standing -in the air-chamber was a stocky, space-suited figure, face paper-white. -Harris, looking as though he were pursued by a legion of devils!</p> - -<p>"Good Lord!" Grant exclaimed. "What's wrong? Where's Miller?"</p> - -<p>Harris pushed back his helmet, slumped onto a bench; drops of sweat -beaded his face, his eyes were tortured.</p> - -<p>"It ... it's screwy!" he muttered. "It ain't human! Miller standing -there, jumping up and down."</p> - -<p>Grant took a bottle of fiery Martian <i>long</i> from the table, poured out -a tumblerful.</p> - -<p>"Drink this," he said. "And tell us what happened."</p> - -<p>Harris downed the drink with a shudder.</p> - -<p>"We made the detour like you said," he whispered. "Fighting our way -over rocks, around craters. Tough going. About three miles from here -our half-circle brought us back to the trail. All okay. Miller was -ahead of me by maybe a hundred yards. We kept our guns in our hands, -and a sharp lookout. Then ... then ... all of a sudden I heard Miller -yelling in my earphones. He was hopping up and down ... straight up -and down, half-crazy with fright.... Just as I was running toward him, -he told me to stay back, that he was trapped. Trapped!" Harris choked. -"He could hop up and down all right, but <i>he couldn't move in the -horizontal</i>! Nothing around him, nothing to be seen anywhere, but he -could only move one way! Up and down! It ain't human, I tell you! Ain't -natural! How...."</p> - -<p>"Miller could move only in the vertical?" Joan echoed. "But ... -but ... no comprehensible force on earth...."</p> - -<p>"This ain't earth, miss," Harris muttered. "And Miller's out there, -three miles up the trail, trapped...."</p> - -<p>Grant reached for his space-suit. "Come on!" he exclaimed. "We're going -out! Harris, you'll stay here with Miss Conway...."</p> - -<p>"No!" The girl shook her head, eyes like gray steel. "I'm in command of -this expedition ... and I'm going along! Danger or no danger! I got you -men into this mess, and I'm going to help you get out!"</p> - -<p>"Sorry." Grant shook his head. "I admire your courage, but we're up -against something unknown, something dangerous. You'd be more of a -hindrance than a help. Call me old-fashioned, romantic, anything you -please, but you're staying here. Harris, I'll be responsible for any -charges of insubordination. See that she stays here. We're going to -rescue Miller."</p> - -<p>Lips pale, head high, the girl watched them clamber into their -space-suits. Her pride, Grant realized, was cut deeply at having the -command of the expedition thus taken from her. But this was no time for -pride with Miller trapped by some mysterious force. Motioning to the -others to follow, Grant sprang into the airlock.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Leaving the ship, the six men raced at top speed along the trail. -Around crevasses and craters, past insanely sculptured rocks, through -narrow passes. When they reached the spot where Kennerly's body had -been found, Grant suddenly paused, staring. The patch of hoar-frost -had been scraped away, a small hole perhaps a foot deep was exposed. -Something previously buried in the ground had been removed! Grant shook -his head. A bizarre, fantastic idea was beginning to take form in his -mind. In a temperature close to absolute zero....</p> - -<p>"Come on!" he exclaimed. "We've got to reach Miller! Hurry!"</p> - -<p>The spacemen redoubled their efforts, bounding along the narrow path. -Onward, desperately, the sound of their heavy breathing filling their -helmets. At length they reached a low rise of ground commanding a view -of the trail ahead. Very faintly a despairing cry echoed in their -earphones.</p> - -<p>A hundred or so yards before them, a vague form in the gloom, stood -Miller. His head twisted crazily from side to side, his body writhed -frantically, as if seeking to break some invisible grip. Several times -he leaped upward like some grotesque jumping-jack, only to settle down -in the exact same spot as before. It was as though the trapped man were -confined in an invisible cylinder which permitted him to move only in -the vertical plane!</p> - -<p>"Look!" Grant muttered. "So it's true! That's what happened to Kennerly -until his heating unit gave out! And Allers, too, I suppose!" He raced -down the slope toward Miller, heat-gun in hand.</p> - -<p>As they neared the trapped man, he gave a cry of warning. "Stay back! -You'll get caught!" His voice rose despairingly. "No ... no way to get -free! Hands and feet stuck! Better to shoot me, now, than let me stay -here till my heat-unit gives out!"</p> - -<p>Helplessly they stared at the doomed man. To approach him meant they, -too, might be trapped. But to stand there, useless, while his heating -unit gave out, bringing death, as it had brought death to Kennerly! And -what power known to man would permit a living being to move only in the -vertical plane but not the horizontal? All at once Grant recalled the -hole in the trail at the spot where he had found Kennerly. Dropping -to his knees, he began very cautiously to circle Miller. All at once -he found it, a copper wire concealed beneath dirt, pebbles. One jerk -of his gloved fingers snapped the wire. A sudden cry broke from the -trapped man. Weakly, uncertainly, he stepped forward.</p> - -<p>"Free!" Miller cried. "I ... I can move my feet and hands any way I -want, now! Thank God! The thought of staying there until I froze to -death...!" He shuddered.</p> - -<p>Grant was following the wire to where Miller had stood, was digging -away a covering of earth. All at once he gave an exclamation of wonder. -In the wan starlight a tangle of wires, wrapped about iron cores, lay -exposed!</p> - -<p>"Looks like a magnet!" A burly space-hand grunted, shaking a dazed -head. "But there's no iron on our suits! And no magnet permits you to -move only one way!"</p> - -<p>"I don't know." Grant frowned. "But whatever this force is, it's got -a clever, devilish mind behind it! This is the same kind of thing -that trapped Kennerly, only we didn't reach him in time. When I first -spotted Kennerly crouching in the trail, I didn't know who he was. -Fired a warning shot at his feet. That must have fused the wires of -the apparatus! And so I was able to approach Kennerly's body without -being trapped myself! While I was taking his body back to the ship, the -killer must have dug up the wrecked mechanism, planted <i>this</i> magnet -further down the trail! If Harris hadn't been lagging a considerable -distance behind Miller, they both would have been caught!"</p> - -<p>"Sounds logical," one of the men nodded. "But why all these traps? And -who's setting them?"</p> - -<p>Grant picked up the broken end of the wire.</p> - -<p>"That," he said grimly, "is what we're going to find out. At the other -end of this wire is the source of power for these traps. And that's -where we'll find the person or being who's setting them! Let's go!"</p> - -<p>The spacemen nodded, faces tense behind their helmets. Leaving the -trail, they struck out across the rough terrain, following the thin -thread of wire. The scenery grew wilder and wilder as they progressed, -until they seemed spectres in some gehenna of weird, jagged rocks, -grasping shadows. Suddenly Grant, in the lead, drew a sharp breath.</p> - -<p>Ahead, the copper wire passed between two basalt walls, less than four -feet wide. And at the other end of this passage was a portable <i>radite</i> -lamp, its bluish beams revealing a small motor, a row of tall oxygen -flasks, wires, metal plates, the missing equipment from the <i>Comet's</i> -storehold. And bent over the motors was a powerful space-suited figure!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="292" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Quick!" Grant roared. "We've got him!" Fingers fumbling for his -heat-gun, he sprang forward.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Grant's leap, in the light gravity, carried him clear of the ground, -and at that precise instant the dark figure before him threw a switch. -A sudden shock hit Grant; he felt as if his hands and feet had been -lashed by invisible bonds. He glanced down, gasped. He was standing on -empty air, some two feet above the rocky floor of the corridor!</p> - -<p>Behind him, the rest of the spacemen were frozen into position, -writhing and twisting in vain efforts to free themselves! Grant -struggled to draw his gun from its holster, but his hands, while free -to move sideways, could not be raised or lowered a fraction of an inch. -As Kennerly and Miller had been trapped in the vertical, so they were -caught in the horizontal!</p> - -<p>"Good evening, gentlemen!" The voice in their earphones was mocking. -"I've been expecting you! I hoped that the wire would lead you -here, into my little snare!" The space-suited figure glanced at the -struggling men. "All present except Harris and the girl! And they'll -open the airlock to admit an old friend miraculously returned from the -dead!"</p> - -<p>Grant, catching a glimpse of the face behind the unknown's helmet, gave -a quick gasp.</p> - -<p>"Allers!" he cried. "Then ... then Kennerly's message was a lie."</p> - -<p>"I wrote it myself." A grin spread over Allers' coarse red countenance. -"Just to keep suspicion from me. You see, Grant, I was with old Conway -when he stumbled on the pitchblend pocket, and I knew the fortune it -contained. But when Conway died, I didn't have enough money to finance -an expedition here. So as soon as I heard his daughter was going to -outfit a ship on his life insurance, I joined up." He laughed harshly. -"You've been such fools! Night after night, during these six months, -I've been bringing necessary equipment from the ship to this hide-out. -Oxygen, food, metal, this little auxiliary motor, and fuel to run it. -When you had done all the work of cleaning out the pocket, I cracked -the main intake valve, volunteered to get word through to Bowman's -Crater. And while you were waiting, I set my traps along the trail."</p> - -<p>Allers nodded complacently, drew a small, complicated piece of -machinery from his pocket.</p> - -<p>"Here's the spare intake valve," he said. "Harris and the girl will -be overjoyed to see dear old Allers return. They won't be suspecting -anything and should be easy." He patted the heat gun at his side. "The -ship and the million in radium ore will be mine with no trouble at -all. And there're places on Venus or Mars where no questions are asked, -so long as you've the money to spend."</p> - -<p>"But what's holding us here?" Grant exclaimed.</p> - -<p>Allers smiled thinly. "Think it over," he suggested. "You'll have three -hours before your heating units give out, as Kennerly's did. And even -if you do find out the cause, you won't be able to do anything about -it." He strode easily past the helpless figures, unaffected by the -mysterious force. "Good-bye, gentlemen! Enjoy yourselves!" A moment -later he had disappeared in the gloom.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Left to themselves, the trapped men renewed their struggles, but to no -avail. Grant felt as though his feet and hands were caught between two -boards, able to slide sideways but neither forward and backward, nor up -and down. He glanced over his shoulder. The others were in ridiculous -positions, like some bizarre Laocoon group. Some, like him, had leaped -clear of the floor when caught. Others had one foot or one hand raised, -were unable to lower them; some, with their guns half-drawn, could not -continue to pull the weapons from their holsters or shove them back. -Miller, hands and feet arrested in a flying tackle, groaned.</p> - -<p>"This is worse than before," he muttered. "I could at least jump up and -down the other way. Now, without being able to lift our feet, we're -rooted to one spot. And my heating unit's two hours gone already."</p> - -<p>Grant stared at the frantic man. Like some queer piece of action -sculpture they seemed, arms and legs raised. And back aboard the -<i>Comet</i> Joan and Harris would surely admit Allers. Once inside, he -could cover them with his gun, replace the broken valve, and take off -for Venus.</p> - -<p>"We'll have to go at this logically," he said. "We just saw Allers walk -past us without being affected. Anybody notice anything unusual about -him?"</p> - -<p>There was a moment's silence, then one of the space-hands spoke up.</p> - -<p>"He didn't have on gravity shoes or radium-insulation gloves, if that -means anything."</p> - -<p>"They're both lead," Grant muttered. "And ... by all space! I think -I've got it! Look! The temperature here is only a couple of degrees -above absolute zero. And though the inside of our suits are warmed, -insulated, the soles of our shoes, the outside of our thick lead -gloves, must be near that temperature! Lead, at six above absolute -zero, takes on super-conductivity. No resistance to electricity! Weak -currents become immensely powerful!"</p> - -<p>"Super-conductivity?" Miller repeated. "But what in hell's that got to -do with our being caught here? We've got to get free, and damn soon, -before our heating units give out!"</p> - -<p>"Look," Grant snapped. "He's got magnets set in the walls of this -gorge! And when the lead on our hands and feet, in a state of -super-conductivity, cuts the fields of the magnets, a powerful -current's set up in 'em! Set up in such a direction as to oppose the -motion! Like the armature of a shorted dynamo! Get it? We can move only -in the direction of the lines of force! Sideways! Just like the magnet -that caught you, buried beneath your feet, kept you in the vertical -plane! Super-conductivity, and magnets! That's what's got us!"</p> - -<p>"Knowing what it is doesn't help," Miller grated. "We can't get our -heat-guns free, and even if we could, we wouldn't dare turn them on our -hands and feet! Looks like we're here to stay until our heating units -wear down and we freeze! We're finished, Grant! Finished!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Grant swore. His hands and feet, inside the space-suit, were warm, -but the outer lead gloves that were a part of every radium miner's -equipment, and the thick lead soles of their gravity shoes, were at -approximately six above absolute zero. A degree, or even half a degree, -of warmth, and super-conductivity would cease. They would be free! -Their lives, and Joan Conway's fate, depended upon those few precious -degrees. Desperately Grant tried to pull his heat-gun from its holster, -but to no avail. And the leaden gloves, the gravity shoes, were -securely fastened to his space-suit. No chance of removing them without -cutting wires or filing bolts.</p> - -<p>Grant moved his hands experimentally. They slid sideways, following the -lines of magnetic force that crossed the passage, though at different -levels; one on a level with the butt of his gun, the other higher and -extended in front of his body. Backward and forward motion was also -impossible, since that, too, would be contrary to the lines of force. -Suddenly Grant stiffened. Arrested motion....</p> - -<p>Extending his arm as far as possible without raising it, he crashed -his hand against the holstered heat gun that hung at his waist. Again -and again the lead-sheathed fist struck the heavy holster in a rain of -blows. Miller, watching wide-eyed, shook his head.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" he muttered. "You ... you're nuts! If that gun should go -off, it'd rip open your suit, kill you!"</p> - -<p>"Better than freezing, anyhow," Grant panted. "And if this works...." -He redoubled his blows, crashing hand against gun-butt. "Arrested -motion gives heat. Like pounding a hammer against an anvil. Only need a -degree or so at most. I ... Ah!" He twisted his hand about, found that -he could move it freely.</p> - -<p>Quickly, before the heat radiated off, Grant drew his heat-gun, focused -it on the floor of the defile. Under the lambent blue bolt, the rock -began to glow red, waves of heat radiated upward. All at once Grant -found himself falling, and his feet struck the glowing rock. The -lead soles of his shoes melting like butter on the white-hot rock, -he stumbled toward Miller, turned the heat blast on a spot near the -latter's feet. Within a few moments the heat had restored resistance to -the lead and Miller was free.</p> - -<p>"Release the others!" Grant shouted. "And then make tracks to the -<i>Comet</i>! I'm going on ahead! Hurry! We've got to reach the ship before -Allers takes off for Venus!" Plunging into the shadowy gloom, he headed -toward the trail.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ken Grant had little memory of that wild race across the Cerean -Darkside. The thin starlight ... the insane landscape ... the sprawling -shadows ... all these made a jumbled montage in his mind. Vaguely he -remembered racing onward, onward, muscles aching, until he saw red -flashes of light ahead. The <i>Comet's</i> rockets, warming up preparatory -to taking off!</p> - -<p>Desperately Grant lunged down the slope toward the ship. Now it was -before him, a sleek, slender shape, glowing in the crimson flare of the -rockets. Grant gripped the handle of the airlock, sunk flush in the -hull, and tugged. The outer door swung open. Closing it behind him, -he threw open the inner one and burst into the cabin, gun in hand. -Before him stood Joan, very pale, chin high. Harris lay upon the floor, -blood seeping from a gash on his temple. All this Grant took in with -one swift glance, but before he could move he felt the muzzle of a gun -dig into his back. Allers, standing to one side of the airlock as he -entered, held him covered.</p> - -<p>"Drop your gun!" Allers shouted to make himself heard through Grant's -helmet.</p> - -<p>Helpless, Grant obeyed, then threw back the transparent plastic dome -that covered his head.</p> - -<p>"Over there against the wall! Next to the girl!" Allers ordered. "I -don't know how you got free, but I'm not staying to investigate! -We're leaving for Venus!" He moved toward the controls, bent over -them, keeping Grant and Joan covered with his heat gun. Grant laughed -harshly. A nice mess he'd made of things!</p> - -<p>One of Allers' hands was on the main control, the other gripped the -heat gun. An idea began to take form in Grant's mind. The cold, the -bitter cold just above absolute zero, was what Allers had counted on to -trap them. Perhaps it might save them as well. He hadn't been in the -cabin long enough for the cold to wear off. Grant drew a deep breath.</p> - -<p>"Shoot, damn you!" he roared, hurtling forward.</p> - -<p>Face set in a vulpine grin, Allers pressed the trigger of the heat-gun. -Joan's horrified scream ripped through the cabin like a jagged knife -blade.</p> - -<p>"Ken!" she cried. "Ken!"</p> - -<p>The ray of the heat-gun was like a white hot lance, thrusting against -Grant's chest as he plunged toward Allers. In spite of the space-suit's -insulation it would normally have charred him to a crisp, but the suit, -bitterly cold from the fierce temperature of Darkside, sucked up the -heat like a sponge. Grant felt as though a glowing brand had touched -his chest, the pain was terrible, but the frigid cold of the suit -absorbed the full force of the heat blast long enough for him to reach -his opponent.</p> - -<p>One blow of Grant's lead-gloved fist caught Allers' face, spun him -about. The heat-gun flew from his hand, slithered under the big control -board. Bruised, bloody, snarling in savage rage, Allers shook himself, -hurtled forward, fists flailing.</p> - -<p>Grant, encased in the heavy space-suit, was clumsy, awkward. Allers -circled him like a tiger stalking its prey. Darting in, his fist would -crash into his opponent's face before Grant could raise his heavy arms -to guard. And by the time he was ready for a return blow, Allers was -dancing out of reach, a grinning, ugly phantom.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Doggedly, Grant pursued his elusive antagonist. His face was a battered -pulp from Allers' blows and the space-suit, the gravity shoes seemed to -weigh tons. Except for that first blow he had not reached his opponent -once, and Allers was laughing mockingly as he methodically cut Grant's -face to ribbons. The latter was beginning to stumble now, had to force -his limbs to move. If only he could corner Allers! Smash his fist into -that evil, taunting countenance.</p> - -<p>Knotted knuckles crashed flush against Grant's jaw, before he could -raise his clumsy arm to block the blow. Backward he tottered against -the wall, groggy, and through half-closed eyes saw Allers spring -forward for the kill. But as Allers leaped toward him, another figure -ran across the cabin, seized his arm. Joan! Clinging with all her -weight to the space-rat, holding him back.</p> - -<p>"Now, Ken!" she cried. "Now!"</p> - -<p>With a single motion of his squat, powerful frame Allers shook the girl -off, spun her across the cabin against the iron bulkhead, but in that -moment Grant had reached him. His lead-encased hands shot out, gripped -Allers' throat. The cold of the leaden gloves burned the man's neck -like a brand and he screamed in agony. Tighter and tighter Grant's -hands locked about his throat, heedless of the blows Allers rained upon -him, and the agonized scream turned into a gurgling moan.</p> - -<p>"Think of Kennerly!" Grant growled. "Dying out there in the cold! Think -of him, you rat!"</p> - -<p>Then a million stars danced before Grant's eyes, and he slumped -back, half-conscious. Through wavering mists he saw Allers stagger -to his feet, gripping a heavy wrench. The space-rat's groping hands -had encountered it, brought the weapon down upon his opponent's head -with brutal force. It was all like a dream, now, to Grant. Stunned, -helpless, he saw Allers moving toward him, face set in a furious grin, -the heavy wrench raised for a final terrible blow.</p> - -<p>Instinctively Grant twisted sideways, his fingers fumbled with the -emergency outlet of his space-suit's oxygen tank. On his shoulders it -had escaped the heat-ray's blast and Grant knew it was still full of -semi-liquid oxygen, under heavy pressure.</p> - -<p>Allers' muscles were tensing, the heavy wrench was about to descend in -a crushing, deadly stroke. It took all of Grant's failing strength to -twist the outlet of the air valve.</p> - -<p>The cloud of whitish vapor spurted from the space-suit's outlet in an -icy stream. For just an instant Allers stood motionless as the blast -of semi-liquid oxygen struck him. A howl of agony broke from his lips, -the wrench fell from his half-frozen fingers. Then, crimsoned features -strangely set, body rigid, Allers toppled to the floor.</p> - -<p>"Ken!" Joan whispered. "Ken, you ... you're all right?"</p> - -<p>"O ... okay!" His gaze lingered on her piquant features, with their -firm, level eyes, brave set of chin. "You know," he said slowly, "I -believe that crack on the head knocked me silly. So silly that for a -moment I actually believed you wouldn't mind if I ki...." He paused as -Miller and the rest of the crew pounded excitedly on the massive outer -door of the airlock.</p> - -<p>"Let them wait," Joan Conway said peremptorily, "and finish what you -were saying!" Then, as he hesitated, "Orders, Mr. Grant!"</p> - -<p>"Aye, aye, Commander," Grant grinned. "I was going to say I believed -you wouldn't mind if I kissed you. Like this!"</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Satellite of Fear, by Frederic Arnold Kummer - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SATELLITE OF FEAR *** - -***** This file should be named 61869-h.htm or 61869-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/8/6/61869/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/61869-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/61869-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f6cd279..0000000 --- a/old/61869-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61869-h/images/illus.jpg b/old/61869-h/images/illus.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5e11a67..0000000 --- a/old/61869-h/images/illus.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/61869.txt b/old/61869.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b2f64fd..0000000 --- a/old/61869.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1148 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Satellite of Fear, by Frederic Arnold Kummer - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll -have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using -this ebook. - - - -Title: Satellite of Fear - -Author: Frederic Arnold Kummer - -Release Date: April 19, 2020 [EBook #61869] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SATELLITE OF FEAR *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - SATELLITE OF FEAR - - By FRED A. KUMMER, Jr. - - Inside the crippled _Comet_, a hard-bitten - crew watched the life-giving oxygen run - low. Outside, on Ceres' fabled Darkside, - stalked death in awful, spectral form. - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Spring 1941. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -The _Comet's_ control-room was silent except for the monotonous beat -of Ken Grant's restless pacing. Six months on Ceres' frigid, shadowy -Darkside had driven the tan from his face, etched lines of worry about -his mouth. Darkside had a way of doing that to people. A temperature -of five above absolute zero, the grim, eternal darkness, the insane -landscape, combined to give an impression of unreality that made one -feel he was living some terrible nightmare. - -From time to time Grant glanced at the sidereal chronometer, shook his -head. Sixteen hours! Sixteen hours since Kennerly had left ... and the -heating unit of his space-suit had been good for three! Kennerly had -vanished, just as Allers had vanished before him! Two men had left the -disabled ship to try and reach Bowman's Crater, that last tiny outpost -only twenty miles away, and both men had disappeared. Had either Allers -or Kennerly been successful, a rescue ship from Bowman's Crater must -have come by now. But instead, the two spacemen had been swallowed up -by the gloom, vanished, leaving no trace. The bitter silent darkness -outside was like some yawning limitless void into which men went, and -did not return. Their position was bad enough in any case, but with a -woman in command.... - -Grant shot a glance at the stack of big lead chests in a corner of the -cabin. Pitchblend--radium ore with an amazingly high metal content. The -ore in those big chests, when refined, would yield over a million in -the rare element. Not that a million would do them much good if they -couldn't get it away. With the main fuel intake valve cracked, the -motors, the radio, the air-regenerator, were all shut off. Death from -lack of oxygen faced them unless word got through. - -A click of the cabin's door broke Grant's thoughts. He turned; a -slender girl wearing riding breeches and leather jacket appeared in the -doorway. Pale, with deep smoke-gray eyes and auburn hair, she had a -fragile transcendental beauty that was very appealing, but her chin was -firm, determined. - -"Any news, Mr. Grant?" she asked quietly, stepping into the control -room. - -"None." He shook a gloomy head. "I don't like it! There's something -strange going on, Miss Conway! The trail's perfectly clear, there's no -life on Ceres that we know of. One man might conceivably meet with some -sort of accident, but not two! They tell stories about Darkside; queer -stories! About alien, unknown creatures." - -"I ... I know," the girl said tightly. "Dad used to hear those stories, -too, when he and Allers were prospecting here. When Dad died he -left me enough money to charter this ship, told me to come here to -Ceres for my legacy. Gave me the chart showing where this pocket of -pitchblend was located." She glanced at the lead chests. "Now Allers, -Dad's closest friend, is gone. And Kennerly. And we're trapped, made -virtual prisoners in this ship by something unknown--out there. We've -got to get word through, Mr. Grant! It's death to stay here until our -oxygen is gone. Death, maybe worse, waiting for us out there in the -darkness...." She broke off, suddenly, swaying. - -"Steady!" Grant gripped the girl's shoulder. "It's the bad air! I'll -go tell Harris to crack open one of the emergency oxygen flasks. You'd -better lie down." - -Like a flash the girl's red head snapped up. "You're a romanticist, -Mr. Grant," she said. "You seem to think I ought to be a languishing -heroine. Well, I'm not. I'm in command of this expedition and if -there're any risks to be taken, I'm taking them! Have Harris open an -oxygen flask and then check over my space-suit! As soon as I get my -breath, I'm going out and look for Allers and Kennerly!" She waved -aside Grant's remonstrances. "Orders, Mr. Grant!" - -Face stony, Grant left the control room, strode along the companionway -to the fo'castle. The _Comet's_ crew, perhaps half a dozen men all -told, were stretched upon their bunks, faces drawn as they fought -against the stale air. Grant motioned to Harris, the squat, ugly mate. - -"Air's getting thick," he said. "Better crack an emergency tube." - -"Aye, aye, sir!" Harris lifted a steel plate in the floor, swung down -the iron ladder. Some moments later he emerged from the storehold, -carrying an oxygen flask. - -"Funny!" The mate rubbed his stubbly chin. "I coulda swore we had -twenty emergency flasks below. But there's only five more down there." - -"Five!" Grant's eyes narrowed. "There were twenty when we left earth! I -counted 'em!" - -"That's not all," Harris muttered. "There's other stores missing! -Wire, tools, batteries, spare plates for repairing the hull!" His eyes -flicked toward the darkness beyond the portholes. "There were plenty -of times we were all down at the mine working when whatever it was -that got Allers and Kennerly might have entered the ship, taken those -things. I've seen shadows out there sometimes. Shadows that weren't -just right, sliding among the rocks. And ... and it's bad luck to have -a woman aboard ship." - -A silence fell over the cabin. Grant frowned. Five flasks of oxygen ... -and the air-regenerator useless without power! Nothing could save them -unless word got through to Bowman's Crater, on the edge of the Cerean -Darkside. Two men had tried to get through, and those two men had -vanished. To permit Joan Conway to attempt the trip was unthinkable. -Grant reached for one of the bulky space-suits that hung on the wall. - -"All right, men," he grated. "We're going to get to the bottom of this! -Here's the plan! I'll take the trail to Bowman's Crater; the same trail -Allers and Kennerly took! If there's anything lying in wait out there, -it ought to attack me, and I'll be armed! At the same time I want you, -Harris, and you, Miller, to go out also, to climb the other side of the -crater and circle about, picking up the trail to Bowman's a mile or so -from here. I'll draw _It's_ attention, while you try to get through and -take word to the outpost. Got it?" - - * * * * * - -The three men nodded, climbed into the heavily insulated space-suits. -Electric heating wires ran through the lining, from portable batteries -good for several hours, enabling the men within them to maintain -comfortable warmth even though the soles of their thick lead gravity -shoes, in contact with the icy ground, were within a few degrees of -absolute zero. Gloves of heavy lead, a part of every radium miner's -equipment as protection against the highly concentrated ore he was -forced to handle, covered the asbestoid "hands" of the space-suits. -Grant paused before snapping his transparent plastic helmet into place, -turned to the men who were to remain aboard the _Comet_. - -"Miss Conway's feeling a little ragged because of the air," he said, -unsmilingly. "When she's better, tell her where we've gone." - -The men grinned understandingly. They knew that the girl, in spite of -her frail form, felt that command of the expedition required her to -share in all its dangers. And Grant, like most men who had spent their -lives on far-flung frontiers, seeking adventure in the woman-less -outposts of terrestial civilization, had curiously archaic ideas of -chivalry, to say nothing of deep-rooted convictions that a woman's -place was on earth. Disregarding the grins of the men, he closed his -helmet, opened the valve of his oxygen tank. - -"Ready?" he barked into the mouthpiece of his radio communications set. - -Two space-suited figures nodded grimly behind their helmets, followed -Grant through the airlock. In the clean, airless void the stars shone -like white beacons, shedding a thin eerie light over the barren plain. -A dark inferno worthy of a Dore's brush, it seemed, malevolent, -intangibly evil. Tortured pinnacles of rock, jagged spires stabbing at -the sable sky; deep craters, dug by countless meteors, pock-marking -the bleak terrain; yawning crevasses, towering cliffs, jagged, -sharp-angled blocks of stone, for Darkside had neither sun, air, nor -rain to round them, soften their weird outlines. - -Grant loosened his heat-gun in its holster, glanced about. Up the side -of the big crater, in which the mine-shaft and the space-ship lay, was -a poorly defined trail, winding in and out among the towering rocks. -This was the way to Bowman's, the little mining town situated in the -twilight zone between Ceres' bitter Darkside and its blazing Sunside. -Allers and Kennerly had taken that rude trail. Grant waved Harris and -Miller to the right. - -"You'll make a long half-circle," he announced. "It'll be tough going, -but with my following the trail, I should draw any attack and enable -you to pick up the trail further along, and reach Bowman's. Okay, now. -Let's go!" - -Harris and Miller disappeared among the up-thrust monoliths, Grant -swung along the trail. In spite of his heavy space-suit and his -thick lead-soled gravity shoes, he was able to move at a brisk pace, -hand on his gun, eyes probing the gloom to right and left. Onward he -went, steadily, skirting craters, leaping narrow crevasses, squeezing -through rocky defiles whose overhanging ledges often met to form a dark -passageway. For all the heating wires within his suit, he could feel -the cold; the utter silence was maddening. - -Grant stared at the murky shadows with narrowed eyes. What was it that -had spirited away Allers and Kennerly, two brave men, well armed? Some -unknown force of nature, or something more tangible? Superstitious -spacemen whispered of monstrous reptilian beasts, of space-pirates' -hide-outs, of strange, spectral Shapes. Drink-inspired hallucinations, -Grant had said scornfully. Now he was not so sure. So little was known -of Darkside. - -Suddenly Grant froze in his tracks. In the middle of the path, perhaps -a hundred feet ahead, was a strange, grotesque figure. Swathed in -a bulky space-suit, it crouched ape-like on the ground, feet flat -against the rock, hands touching the trail as though to balance itself. -Motionless as some robot it crouched there, in a patch of white frost, -seemingly poised to spring. - -Grant's heat-gun rose to cover the strange figure. His voice shook as -he spoke into his communications set. - -"Who's there? What'd you want?" - -The crouching figure made no reply. Very deliberately Grant pressed the -trigger of the heat-gun, aiming it at the motionless form's feet. Dirt, -chips of stone, flew up, but the crouching form did not move. Muscles -tense, Grant moved forward. Pale starlight winked on the unknown's -helmet. All at once Grant gasped. Behind the transparent glass of the -headpiece, the man's features were visible. Distorted, despairing -features set in an expression of ghastly, appalling horror! -Kennerly ... dead! - -Grant bent over the grim figure, tried to lift it. One of Kennerly's -fingers, frozen solid, snapped within the space-suit like brittle -glass. Grant glanced warily about. If he could get the body back to -the ship, find out how Kennerly had died, there might be a chance of -overcoming the menace that lurked on this shadowy insane world. All -at once his eyes caught queer dark streaks on a rock not far from the -inert figure ... letters, words, that looked as if they had been made -by a heat-gun's blast. Slowly he deciphered the scrawled sentences. -"Allers dead. No hope. Unknown forces. Doomed." - -Grant's jaw tightened. Kennerly's last message! And somehow he had -known that Allers was dead, that there was no hope. Face set in harsh -lines, Grant swung the body over his shoulder, set out along the trail -to the _Comet_. - - * * * * * - -The silence in the space-ship's control-room was thick, breathless. A -frail figure against the rivet-studded bulkhead, Joan Conway stared -with horror-filled eyes at the grim figure on the floor. They had -removed Kennerly's space-suit, and with the warmth of the cabin the -stump of the frozen finger which Grant had inadvertently broken off was -beginning to seep blood. The girl forced her voice to remain steady. - -"Under the circumstances, Mr. Grant," she said tightly, "I have decided -to overlook your disobedience of orders until we return to earth ... if -we do. Are there any clues on Kennerly?" - -Grant, kneeling beside the dead man, examining him carefully, shook -his head. - -"Nothing," he muttered. "No holes in his suit, no signs of anything -that might have killed him other than the cold. The battery of his -heating unit's run down. And he had a full charge when he left. We -checked it. Why he should follow the trail a mile or so from the ship -and then sit there for hours, until the failing battery brought death -by freezing.... It's suicide!" - -"Maybe he got lost, wandered around until he died," one of the -space-hands suggested. - -"No good." Again Grant shook a somber head. "The trail's perfectly -clear. I found him in a deep patch of hoar frost, like snow. Condensed -moisture from the escape valve of his helmet. An extraordinarily large -patch of 'snow.' Get what that means? Frost patches in this airless -void can only mean the moisture from a space-suit's exhaust. And a pile -of 'snow' like that about him, could only be the result of remaining -hours in one spot. Kennerly left this ship for Bowman's Crater, got -about two miles away and then crouched down to wait for death. Crouched -there for hours, until his heating unit ran out of juice and he froze. -Why?" Grant motioned to the inert form' with its terrified countenance. -"He had sustained no injury, could have followed a perfectly clear path -back to the ship, and instead he crouched there until he died!" - -"Maybe something held him," Joan suggested. "Magnetism." - -Grant picked up the asbestoid space-suit. "Fiber, glassex helmet, -rust-proof copper fittings, lead gravity shoes. No iron or steel on -it. Another thing. How did he know Allers was dead? What did he mean -by 'unknown forces' and 'no hope?' There's something devilish, unreal, -out there. Something that's determined to keep us from getting word -through, determined to keep us here until we die from lack of oxygen! -Just like Kennerly died from lack of heat. It's afraid to attack us, -but tries to trap us, until we die." - -Again silence fell over the cabin. The remaining space-hands glanced -from Kennerly's body to the windows, the clinging darkness outside. -Joan's gaze sought the leaden chests; she laughed unhumorously. - -"Pitchblend! A million in radium! And what good is it? All our work -here to get it and now no chance of ever reaching earth." - -"We'll get word through somehow." Grant squared his shoulders. "Maybe -Harris and Miller...." - -As Grant spoke, a furious tocsin of blows sounded upon the main -airlock. The spacemen whirled, groping for guns. Face set, Grant -stepped toward the inner door of the lock. - -"Keep me covered," he snapped, drawing the massive pneumatic bolts. - -As the heavy steel door swung open, Joan gave a sudden gasp. Standing -in the air-chamber was a stocky, space-suited figure, face paper-white. -Harris, looking as though he were pursued by a legion of devils! - -"Good Lord!" Grant exclaimed. "What's wrong? Where's Miller?" - -Harris pushed back his helmet, slumped onto a bench; drops of sweat -beaded his face, his eyes were tortured. - -"It ... it's screwy!" he muttered. "It ain't human! Miller standing -there, jumping up and down." - -Grant took a bottle of fiery Martian _long_ from the table, poured out -a tumblerful. - -"Drink this," he said. "And tell us what happened." - -Harris downed the drink with a shudder. - -"We made the detour like you said," he whispered. "Fighting our way -over rocks, around craters. Tough going. About three miles from here -our half-circle brought us back to the trail. All okay. Miller was -ahead of me by maybe a hundred yards. We kept our guns in our hands, -and a sharp lookout. Then ... then ... all of a sudden I heard Miller -yelling in my earphones. He was hopping up and down ... straight up -and down, half-crazy with fright.... Just as I was running toward him, -he told me to stay back, that he was trapped. Trapped!" Harris choked. -"He could hop up and down all right, but _he couldn't move in the -horizontal_! Nothing around him, nothing to be seen anywhere, but he -could only move one way! Up and down! It ain't human, I tell you! Ain't -natural! How...." - -"Miller could move only in the vertical?" Joan echoed. "But ... -but ... no comprehensible force on earth...." - -"This ain't earth, miss," Harris muttered. "And Miller's out there, -three miles up the trail, trapped...." - -Grant reached for his space-suit. "Come on!" he exclaimed. "We're going -out! Harris, you'll stay here with Miss Conway...." - -"No!" The girl shook her head, eyes like gray steel. "I'm in command of -this expedition ... and I'm going along! Danger or no danger! I got you -men into this mess, and I'm going to help you get out!" - -"Sorry." Grant shook his head. "I admire your courage, but we're up -against something unknown, something dangerous. You'd be more of a -hindrance than a help. Call me old-fashioned, romantic, anything you -please, but you're staying here. Harris, I'll be responsible for any -charges of insubordination. See that she stays here. We're going to -rescue Miller." - -Lips pale, head high, the girl watched them clamber into their -space-suits. Her pride, Grant realized, was cut deeply at having the -command of the expedition thus taken from her. But this was no time for -pride with Miller trapped by some mysterious force. Motioning to the -others to follow, Grant sprang into the airlock. - - * * * * * - -Leaving the ship, the six men raced at top speed along the trail. -Around crevasses and craters, past insanely sculptured rocks, through -narrow passes. When they reached the spot where Kennerly's body had -been found, Grant suddenly paused, staring. The patch of hoar-frost -had been scraped away, a small hole perhaps a foot deep was exposed. -Something previously buried in the ground had been removed! Grant shook -his head. A bizarre, fantastic idea was beginning to take form in his -mind. In a temperature close to absolute zero.... - -"Come on!" he exclaimed. "We've got to reach Miller! Hurry!" - -The spacemen redoubled their efforts, bounding along the narrow path. -Onward, desperately, the sound of their heavy breathing filling their -helmets. At length they reached a low rise of ground commanding a view -of the trail ahead. Very faintly a despairing cry echoed in their -earphones. - -A hundred or so yards before them, a vague form in the gloom, stood -Miller. His head twisted crazily from side to side, his body writhed -frantically, as if seeking to break some invisible grip. Several times -he leaped upward like some grotesque jumping-jack, only to settle down -in the exact same spot as before. It was as though the trapped man were -confined in an invisible cylinder which permitted him to move only in -the vertical plane! - -"Look!" Grant muttered. "So it's true! That's what happened to Kennerly -until his heating unit gave out! And Allers, too, I suppose!" He raced -down the slope toward Miller, heat-gun in hand. - -As they neared the trapped man, he gave a cry of warning. "Stay back! -You'll get caught!" His voice rose despairingly. "No ... no way to get -free! Hands and feet stuck! Better to shoot me, now, than let me stay -here till my heat-unit gives out!" - -Helplessly they stared at the doomed man. To approach him meant they, -too, might be trapped. But to stand there, useless, while his heating -unit gave out, bringing death, as it had brought death to Kennerly! And -what power known to man would permit a living being to move only in the -vertical plane but not the horizontal? All at once Grant recalled the -hole in the trail at the spot where he had found Kennerly. Dropping -to his knees, he began very cautiously to circle Miller. All at once -he found it, a copper wire concealed beneath dirt, pebbles. One jerk -of his gloved fingers snapped the wire. A sudden cry broke from the -trapped man. Weakly, uncertainly, he stepped forward. - -"Free!" Miller cried. "I ... I can move my feet and hands any way I -want, now! Thank God! The thought of staying there until I froze to -death...!" He shuddered. - -Grant was following the wire to where Miller had stood, was digging -away a covering of earth. All at once he gave an exclamation of wonder. -In the wan starlight a tangle of wires, wrapped about iron cores, lay -exposed! - -"Looks like a magnet!" A burly space-hand grunted, shaking a dazed -head. "But there's no iron on our suits! And no magnet permits you to -move only one way!" - -"I don't know." Grant frowned. "But whatever this force is, it's got -a clever, devilish mind behind it! This is the same kind of thing -that trapped Kennerly, only we didn't reach him in time. When I first -spotted Kennerly crouching in the trail, I didn't know who he was. -Fired a warning shot at his feet. That must have fused the wires of -the apparatus! And so I was able to approach Kennerly's body without -being trapped myself! While I was taking his body back to the ship, the -killer must have dug up the wrecked mechanism, planted _this_ magnet -further down the trail! If Harris hadn't been lagging a considerable -distance behind Miller, they both would have been caught!" - -"Sounds logical," one of the men nodded. "But why all these traps? And -who's setting them?" - -Grant picked up the broken end of the wire. - -"That," he said grimly, "is what we're going to find out. At the other -end of this wire is the source of power for these traps. And that's -where we'll find the person or being who's setting them! Let's go!" - -The spacemen nodded, faces tense behind their helmets. Leaving the -trail, they struck out across the rough terrain, following the thin -thread of wire. The scenery grew wilder and wilder as they progressed, -until they seemed spectres in some gehenna of weird, jagged rocks, -grasping shadows. Suddenly Grant, in the lead, drew a sharp breath. - -Ahead, the copper wire passed between two basalt walls, less than four -feet wide. And at the other end of this passage was a portable _radite_ -lamp, its bluish beams revealing a small motor, a row of tall oxygen -flasks, wires, metal plates, the missing equipment from the _Comet's_ -storehold. And bent over the motors was a powerful space-suited figure! - -"Quick!" Grant roared. "We've got him!" Fingers fumbling for his -heat-gun, he sprang forward. - - * * * * * - -Grant's leap, in the light gravity, carried him clear of the ground, -and at that precise instant the dark figure before him threw a switch. -A sudden shock hit Grant; he felt as if his hands and feet had been -lashed by invisible bonds. He glanced down, gasped. He was standing on -empty air, some two feet above the rocky floor of the corridor! - -Behind him, the rest of the spacemen were frozen into position, -writhing and twisting in vain efforts to free themselves! Grant -struggled to draw his gun from its holster, but his hands, while free -to move sideways, could not be raised or lowered a fraction of an inch. -As Kennerly and Miller had been trapped in the vertical, so they were -caught in the horizontal! - -"Good evening, gentlemen!" The voice in their earphones was mocking. -"I've been expecting you! I hoped that the wire would lead you -here, into my little snare!" The space-suited figure glanced at the -struggling men. "All present except Harris and the girl! And they'll -open the airlock to admit an old friend miraculously returned from the -dead!" - -Grant, catching a glimpse of the face behind the unknown's helmet, gave -a quick gasp. - -"Allers!" he cried. "Then ... then Kennerly's message was a lie." - -"I wrote it myself." A grin spread over Allers' coarse red countenance. -"Just to keep suspicion from me. You see, Grant, I was with old Conway -when he stumbled on the pitchblend pocket, and I knew the fortune it -contained. But when Conway died, I didn't have enough money to finance -an expedition here. So as soon as I heard his daughter was going to -outfit a ship on his life insurance, I joined up." He laughed harshly. -"You've been such fools! Night after night, during these six months, -I've been bringing necessary equipment from the ship to this hide-out. -Oxygen, food, metal, this little auxiliary motor, and fuel to run it. -When you had done all the work of cleaning out the pocket, I cracked -the main intake valve, volunteered to get word through to Bowman's -Crater. And while you were waiting, I set my traps along the trail." - -Allers nodded complacently, drew a small, complicated piece of -machinery from his pocket. - -"Here's the spare intake valve," he said. "Harris and the girl will -be overjoyed to see dear old Allers return. They won't be suspecting -anything and should be easy." He patted the heat gun at his side. "The -ship and the million in radium ore will be mine with no trouble at -all. And there're places on Venus or Mars where no questions are asked, -so long as you've the money to spend." - -"But what's holding us here?" Grant exclaimed. - -Allers smiled thinly. "Think it over," he suggested. "You'll have three -hours before your heating units give out, as Kennerly's did. And even -if you do find out the cause, you won't be able to do anything about -it." He strode easily past the helpless figures, unaffected by the -mysterious force. "Good-bye, gentlemen! Enjoy yourselves!" A moment -later he had disappeared in the gloom. - - * * * * * - -Left to themselves, the trapped men renewed their struggles, but to no -avail. Grant felt as though his feet and hands were caught between two -boards, able to slide sideways but neither forward and backward, nor up -and down. He glanced over his shoulder. The others were in ridiculous -positions, like some bizarre Laocoon group. Some, like him, had leaped -clear of the floor when caught. Others had one foot or one hand raised, -were unable to lower them; some, with their guns half-drawn, could not -continue to pull the weapons from their holsters or shove them back. -Miller, hands and feet arrested in a flying tackle, groaned. - -"This is worse than before," he muttered. "I could at least jump up and -down the other way. Now, without being able to lift our feet, we're -rooted to one spot. And my heating unit's two hours gone already." - -Grant stared at the frantic man. Like some queer piece of action -sculpture they seemed, arms and legs raised. And back aboard the -_Comet_ Joan and Harris would surely admit Allers. Once inside, he -could cover them with his gun, replace the broken valve, and take off -for Venus. - -"We'll have to go at this logically," he said. "We just saw Allers walk -past us without being affected. Anybody notice anything unusual about -him?" - -There was a moment's silence, then one of the space-hands spoke up. - -"He didn't have on gravity shoes or radium-insulation gloves, if that -means anything." - -"They're both lead," Grant muttered. "And ... by all space! I think -I've got it! Look! The temperature here is only a couple of degrees -above absolute zero. And though the inside of our suits are warmed, -insulated, the soles of our shoes, the outside of our thick lead -gloves, must be near that temperature! Lead, at six above absolute -zero, takes on super-conductivity. No resistance to electricity! Weak -currents become immensely powerful!" - -"Super-conductivity?" Miller repeated. "But what in hell's that got to -do with our being caught here? We've got to get free, and damn soon, -before our heating units give out!" - -"Look," Grant snapped. "He's got magnets set in the walls of this -gorge! And when the lead on our hands and feet, in a state of -super-conductivity, cuts the fields of the magnets, a powerful -current's set up in 'em! Set up in such a direction as to oppose the -motion! Like the armature of a shorted dynamo! Get it? We can move only -in the direction of the lines of force! Sideways! Just like the magnet -that caught you, buried beneath your feet, kept you in the vertical -plane! Super-conductivity, and magnets! That's what's got us!" - -"Knowing what it is doesn't help," Miller grated. "We can't get our -heat-guns free, and even if we could, we wouldn't dare turn them on our -hands and feet! Looks like we're here to stay until our heating units -wear down and we freeze! We're finished, Grant! Finished!" - - * * * * * - -Grant swore. His hands and feet, inside the space-suit, were warm, -but the outer lead gloves that were a part of every radium miner's -equipment, and the thick lead soles of their gravity shoes, were at -approximately six above absolute zero. A degree, or even half a degree, -of warmth, and super-conductivity would cease. They would be free! -Their lives, and Joan Conway's fate, depended upon those few precious -degrees. Desperately Grant tried to pull his heat-gun from its holster, -but to no avail. And the leaden gloves, the gravity shoes, were -securely fastened to his space-suit. No chance of removing them without -cutting wires or filing bolts. - -Grant moved his hands experimentally. They slid sideways, following the -lines of magnetic force that crossed the passage, though at different -levels; one on a level with the butt of his gun, the other higher and -extended in front of his body. Backward and forward motion was also -impossible, since that, too, would be contrary to the lines of force. -Suddenly Grant stiffened. Arrested motion.... - -Extending his arm as far as possible without raising it, he crashed -his hand against the holstered heat gun that hung at his waist. Again -and again the lead-sheathed fist struck the heavy holster in a rain of -blows. Miller, watching wide-eyed, shook his head. - -"What is it?" he muttered. "You ... you're nuts! If that gun should go -off, it'd rip open your suit, kill you!" - -"Better than freezing, anyhow," Grant panted. "And if this works...." -He redoubled his blows, crashing hand against gun-butt. "Arrested -motion gives heat. Like pounding a hammer against an anvil. Only need a -degree or so at most. I ... Ah!" He twisted his hand about, found that -he could move it freely. - -Quickly, before the heat radiated off, Grant drew his heat-gun, focused -it on the floor of the defile. Under the lambent blue bolt, the rock -began to glow red, waves of heat radiated upward. All at once Grant -found himself falling, and his feet struck the glowing rock. The -lead soles of his shoes melting like butter on the white-hot rock, -he stumbled toward Miller, turned the heat blast on a spot near the -latter's feet. Within a few moments the heat had restored resistance to -the lead and Miller was free. - -"Release the others!" Grant shouted. "And then make tracks to the -_Comet_! I'm going on ahead! Hurry! We've got to reach the ship before -Allers takes off for Venus!" Plunging into the shadowy gloom, he headed -toward the trail. - - * * * * * - -Ken Grant had little memory of that wild race across the Cerean -Darkside. The thin starlight ... the insane landscape ... the sprawling -shadows ... all these made a jumbled montage in his mind. Vaguely he -remembered racing onward, onward, muscles aching, until he saw red -flashes of light ahead. The _Comet's_ rockets, warming up preparatory -to taking off! - -Desperately Grant lunged down the slope toward the ship. Now it was -before him, a sleek, slender shape, glowing in the crimson flare of the -rockets. Grant gripped the handle of the airlock, sunk flush in the -hull, and tugged. The outer door swung open. Closing it behind him, -he threw open the inner one and burst into the cabin, gun in hand. -Before him stood Joan, very pale, chin high. Harris lay upon the floor, -blood seeping from a gash on his temple. All this Grant took in with -one swift glance, but before he could move he felt the muzzle of a gun -dig into his back. Allers, standing to one side of the airlock as he -entered, held him covered. - -"Drop your gun!" Allers shouted to make himself heard through Grant's -helmet. - -Helpless, Grant obeyed, then threw back the transparent plastic dome -that covered his head. - -"Over there against the wall! Next to the girl!" Allers ordered. "I -don't know how you got free, but I'm not staying to investigate! -We're leaving for Venus!" He moved toward the controls, bent over -them, keeping Grant and Joan covered with his heat gun. Grant laughed -harshly. A nice mess he'd made of things! - -One of Allers' hands was on the main control, the other gripped the -heat gun. An idea began to take form in Grant's mind. The cold, the -bitter cold just above absolute zero, was what Allers had counted on to -trap them. Perhaps it might save them as well. He hadn't been in the -cabin long enough for the cold to wear off. Grant drew a deep breath. - -"Shoot, damn you!" he roared, hurtling forward. - -Face set in a vulpine grin, Allers pressed the trigger of the heat-gun. -Joan's horrified scream ripped through the cabin like a jagged knife -blade. - -"Ken!" she cried. "Ken!" - -The ray of the heat-gun was like a white hot lance, thrusting against -Grant's chest as he plunged toward Allers. In spite of the space-suit's -insulation it would normally have charred him to a crisp, but the suit, -bitterly cold from the fierce temperature of Darkside, sucked up the -heat like a sponge. Grant felt as though a glowing brand had touched -his chest, the pain was terrible, but the frigid cold of the suit -absorbed the full force of the heat blast long enough for him to reach -his opponent. - -One blow of Grant's lead-gloved fist caught Allers' face, spun him -about. The heat-gun flew from his hand, slithered under the big control -board. Bruised, bloody, snarling in savage rage, Allers shook himself, -hurtled forward, fists flailing. - -Grant, encased in the heavy space-suit, was clumsy, awkward. Allers -circled him like a tiger stalking its prey. Darting in, his fist would -crash into his opponent's face before Grant could raise his heavy arms -to guard. And by the time he was ready for a return blow, Allers was -dancing out of reach, a grinning, ugly phantom. - - * * * * * - -Doggedly, Grant pursued his elusive antagonist. His face was a battered -pulp from Allers' blows and the space-suit, the gravity shoes seemed to -weigh tons. Except for that first blow he had not reached his opponent -once, and Allers was laughing mockingly as he methodically cut Grant's -face to ribbons. The latter was beginning to stumble now, had to force -his limbs to move. If only he could corner Allers! Smash his fist into -that evil, taunting countenance. - -Knotted knuckles crashed flush against Grant's jaw, before he could -raise his clumsy arm to block the blow. Backward he tottered against -the wall, groggy, and through half-closed eyes saw Allers spring -forward for the kill. But as Allers leaped toward him, another figure -ran across the cabin, seized his arm. Joan! Clinging with all her -weight to the space-rat, holding him back. - -"Now, Ken!" she cried. "Now!" - -With a single motion of his squat, powerful frame Allers shook the girl -off, spun her across the cabin against the iron bulkhead, but in that -moment Grant had reached him. His lead-encased hands shot out, gripped -Allers' throat. The cold of the leaden gloves burned the man's neck -like a brand and he screamed in agony. Tighter and tighter Grant's -hands locked about his throat, heedless of the blows Allers rained upon -him, and the agonized scream turned into a gurgling moan. - -"Think of Kennerly!" Grant growled. "Dying out there in the cold! Think -of him, you rat!" - -Then a million stars danced before Grant's eyes, and he slumped -back, half-conscious. Through wavering mists he saw Allers stagger -to his feet, gripping a heavy wrench. The space-rat's groping hands -had encountered it, brought the weapon down upon his opponent's head -with brutal force. It was all like a dream, now, to Grant. Stunned, -helpless, he saw Allers moving toward him, face set in a furious grin, -the heavy wrench raised for a final terrible blow. - -Instinctively Grant twisted sideways, his fingers fumbled with the -emergency outlet of his space-suit's oxygen tank. On his shoulders it -had escaped the heat-ray's blast and Grant knew it was still full of -semi-liquid oxygen, under heavy pressure. - -Allers' muscles were tensing, the heavy wrench was about to descend in -a crushing, deadly stroke. It took all of Grant's failing strength to -twist the outlet of the air valve. - -The cloud of whitish vapor spurted from the space-suit's outlet in an -icy stream. For just an instant Allers stood motionless as the blast -of semi-liquid oxygen struck him. A howl of agony broke from his lips, -the wrench fell from his half-frozen fingers. Then, crimsoned features -strangely set, body rigid, Allers toppled to the floor. - -"Ken!" Joan whispered. "Ken, you ... you're all right?" - -"O ... okay!" His gaze lingered on her piquant features, with their -firm, level eyes, brave set of chin. "You know," he said slowly, "I -believe that crack on the head knocked me silly. So silly that for a -moment I actually believed you wouldn't mind if I ki...." He paused as -Miller and the rest of the crew pounded excitedly on the massive outer -door of the airlock. - -"Let them wait," Joan Conway said peremptorily, "and finish what you -were saying!" Then, as he hesitated, "Orders, Mr. Grant!" - -"Aye, aye, Commander," Grant grinned. "I was going to say I believed -you wouldn't mind if I kissed you. Like this!" - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Satellite of Fear, by Frederic Arnold Kummer - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SATELLITE OF FEAR *** - -***** This file should be named 61869.txt or 61869.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/8/6/61869/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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