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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..ea164a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #62137 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/62137) diff --git a/old/62137-h.zip b/old/62137-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 09ebe0c..0000000 --- a/old/62137-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/62137-h/62137-h.htm b/old/62137-h/62137-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 2be214c..0000000 --- a/old/62137-h/62137-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2737 +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 Venus Enslaved, by Manly Wade Wellman. - </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 Venus Enslaved, by Manly Wade Wellman - -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: Venus Enslaved - -Author: Manly Wade Wellman - -Release Date: May 15, 2020 [EBook #62137] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VENUS ENSLAVED *** - - - - -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="349" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>Venus Enslaved</h1> - -<h2>By MANLY WADE WELLMAN</h2> - -<p>What chance had the castaway Earthman and<br /> -his crossbow-weaponed Amazons against the<br /> -mighty Frogmasters of the Veiled Planet?</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Summer 1942.<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>Black velvet infinity all around, punctured and patterned with the -many-hued jewels of space—comforting, somehow, because they made the -same constellation patterns you used to see on Earth. There was the -Dipper, there Scorpio, there Orion. But the twinkle was shut off, as -though every star had turned cold and silently watchful toward your -impudent invasion of emptiness.</p> - -<p>So big was the universe that the little recess which did duty for -control-room, observation-point and living-cabin seemed even smaller -than it was; which was very small indeed. Planter forgot the dizzy -lightness of head and body, here beyond gravity, and turned his -wondering eyes outward from where he lay strapped in his spring-jointed -hammock, toward the firmament, and decided that there was nothing in -all his past life that he would change if he could.</p> - -<p>"Check blast-tempo," came the voice of Disbro just beyond his head, -a high, harsh, commanding voice. "Check lubrication-loss and check -sun-direction. Then brace yourself. We may land quicker than we -thought."</p> - -<p>Planter leaned toward the instrument panel that covered most of the -bulkhead to the right of his hammock. The pale glow from the dials -highlighted his face, young, bony, intent. "Blast-tempo adequate," he -called back to Disbro. "Lubrication-loss about seven point two. Three -point nine six degrees off sunward. Air loss nil."</p> - -<p>"Who asked for air loss?" snubbed Disbro from his hammock forward. -He was leaner than Planter, taller, older. Even in his insulated -coveralls, bulking against whatever temperature or pressure danger -might be threatened by the outer space, he was of a dangerous elegance -of figure and attitude. His face, framed in tight, cushioned helmet, -was so narrow that it seemed compressed sidewise—dark eyes crowded -together with only a disdainful blade of nose between them, a mouth -short but strong, a chin like the pointed toe of a stylish boot, a -cropped black mustache. Back on lost Earth, Disbro had frightened men -and fascinated women. His cunning crime-administration had been almost -too neat for the police, but not quite; or he would not have been here, -with his life barely held in his elegant fingertips.</p> - -<p>"Venus plumb center ahead," he told Planter. "Have a look."</p> - -<p>That last as if he were granting a favor. Planter twisted in the -hammock. He saw the taut-slung cocoon that would be Disbro's netted -body, the control board like a bigger, more complex typewriter where -Disbro could reach and strike key-combinations to steer, speed or -otherwise maneuver the ship.</p> - -<p>Beyond, a great round port, at its middle a disk the size of a -table-top. Against the black, airless sky, most of that disk looked -as blue as the thinnest of milk. One smooth edge was brightened to -cream—the sunward limb of Venus. But even the dimmer expanse showed -fluffy and gently rippling, a swaddling of opaque cloud.</p> - -<p>"That," said Disbro, "is our little gray home in the west."</p> - -<p>"I wonder what's underneath the clouds," mused Planter, for the -millionth time.</p> - -<p>"All those science-pots, sitting home on the seats of their expensive -striped pants, wonder that," snarled Disbro. "That's why they sent -eight rockets before us, smack into the cloud. That's why, with eight -silences out of a possible eight, they rigged this ninth. That's why, -when nobody was fool enough to volunteer, they dug up three convicts -who were all neatly earmarked to be killed anyway, and gave them a bang -at the job."</p> - -<p>Three convicts—Planter, Disbro, and Max. Planter had forgotten Max, as -everyone was apt to, including Max himself. For Max had been a sturdy -athlete, a coming heavyweight champion, until too many gaily-accepted -blows had done something to his mind. Doctors said some concussion -unbalanced him, but not far enough so that he didn't know right and -wrong apart when he killed his manager for cheating on certain gate -receipts. And so, prison and a sentence to the chair with the reprieve -that came by recommendation of the Rocket Foundation on March 30, 2082. -Now Max was in the compartment aft, keeping the levers kicking that ran -the rocket engines. Show Max how to do a thing and he'd keep right on -doing it until you pulled him away, or until he dropped.</p> - -<p>What would Max's last name be, wondered Planter. He studied the face of -Venus. He sang to himself, softly:</p> - -<p>"<i>Oh, thou sublime sweet evening star</i>...."</p> - -<p>Softly, but not too softly for Disbro's excellent ears. Disbro chuckled.</p> - -<p>"You know opera, Planter? Pretty fancy for an ex-con."</p> - -<p>"I know that piece," said Planter shortly. "Wolfram's hymn to Venus, -from <i>Tannhauser</i>."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It had started him thinking again. Gwen had played it so often on her -violin. Played it and sung it. Those were the days he hadn't known she -was married, down in her red-and-gold apartment in the Artists Quarter. -He'd been sculpting her—she'd had the second best figure he ever saw. -Then he found out about her husband, for the husband burst in upon -them. The husband had tried to kill Planter, but Planter had killed the -husband. And Gwen had sworn his life away.</p> - -<p>"Check elapsed time," Disbro bade him.</p> - -<p>"Fifty-eight days nine hours and fifty-four minutes point seven," -rejoined Planter at once.</p> - -<p>"Prompt, aren't you? We'll be on Venus before the sixty-fourth day." -Planter saw Disbro shift over in his hammock. "I'm going to shave. Then -eat."</p> - -<p>Disbro turned a stud in the wall. His electric razor began to hum. -Planter opened a locker-valve and brought forth his own rations—a -package of concentrated solid, compounded of chocolate, meat extract, -several vitamin agents. It would sustain him for hours, but was -anything but a fill to his hunger. He chewed it slowly to make it last -longer, and sipped from a snipe-nosed container of water, slightly -effervescent and acidulated. A few drops escaped between snout and lip, -and swam lazily in the gravityless air of the cabin, like shiny little -bubbles.</p> - -<p>"Planter," said Disbro, suddenly pleasant, "we're going to fool 'em."</p> - -<p>He shut off his razor. Planter took another nibble. "Yes, Disbro?"</p> - -<p>"We'll land at the north pole."</p> - -<p>Planter shook his head. "We can't. This rocket is set at mid-point on -the Venusian disk."</p> - -<p>"We can. I've tinkered with the controls. A break for us, no break for -the Foundationeers at home. They're watching us through telescopes. -What they want is our crash on Venus, with a great upflare of the -exploding fuel. Then they'll know that we landed, and can shake hands -all 'round on a 'successful advancement.' But we're curving away, then -in. I've fixed that. We'll not blow off and make any signal; but we'll -live."</p> - -<p>"North pole," mused Planter, pensively.</p> - -<p>"No spin to Venus up there. We'll land solidly. We'll land where it's -coolest, and none too cool. Her equator must be two degrees hotter than -Satan's reception hall. The pole may be endurable."</p> - -<p>"What then?" asked Planter.</p> - -<p>"We'll live, I say. Don't you want to live?"</p> - -<p>Planter hadn't thought about it lately. But suddenly he knew that he -did want to live. His was a family of considerable longevity. His -grandfather had attained the age of one hundred and seven, and had -claimed to remember the end of the Second World War.</p> - -<p>"Six days to study it over," Disbro was saying. "Then we'll have a try. -If we land alive, we'll laugh. If we die trying, we'll have nothing to -worry about. Float up here, will you? Take over. I'm going to have a -little sleep."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Through choking steam, white and ever-swirling, drove the silvery -cigar that was the ninth rocket ship to attempt to voyage across -space. From its snout blossomed sudden flame, blue and red and blue -again—rocket counter-blasts that were designed to act as brakes. They -worked, somewhat. The speed cut from bullet-rate to falling-rate. From -falling-rate to flying-rate. Then, of a sudden, partial clarity around -it. Within an upper envelope of blinding vapors, Venus had a thinner -atmosphere, partially transparent. Below showed a surface of fluffy -greens, all sorts of greens—lettuce, apple, olive, emerald, spinach, -sea greens. Vegetation, plainly, and lots of it. The ship, steadying in -its plunge like a skilled diver, nosed across toward a wet, slate-dark -patch that must be open ground. From the stern, where rocket tubes had -ceased blazing, broke out a massive expanse of fabric—a parachute. -Another and another. Down floated the craft, thudding, at last, upon -its resting place.</p> - -<p>Planter felt a cramping pain. He realized that to feel pain one must -be alive. Then his head throbbed—it hung head downward. Gravity was -back. He groped for his hammock fastenings, loosened them, and lowered -himself to a standing position beneath, on the round port that had been -forward. Disbro hung in his hammock, motionless but moaning faintly.</p> - -<p>Planter hurriedly freed him and laid him flat on his back. He fumbled a -locker open, brought out a water-pot. A little spurt between Disbro's -short, scornful lips brought him back to consciousness.</p> - -<p>"We made it," was Disbro's first comment, full of triumph and savagery. -"Help me up. Thanks. Whoooh! We seem to have socked in somewhere, nose -first."</p> - -<p>He was right. No sign of light or open air showed through the forward -port, nor the side ports from which Planter had been wont to study -the reaches of space. Disbro looked up. The after bulkhead, now their -ceiling, had a hatchway. "Hoist me," he said to Planter, who made a -stirrup of his hands and obliged. The slightly lesser gravitational -pull of Venus made Disbro more active than on Earth. He caught -Planter's hammock, got his foot on a side-bracket for steadiness, and -climbed up to the hatch. A tug at the clamps opened it, and he wriggled -through.</p> - -<p>"Wake up, you big buffalo," Planter heard him snarling. Max was -evidently unconscious up there. Planter, without a helper to lift him, -made shift by climbing Disbro's hammock, then his own, to gain the -compartment above.</p> - -<p>"He'd have died if he had an ounce of brains," commented Disbro, -pointing. Max lay crumpled against the bulkhead, close to the great -bank of levers he had been working. In his hands were grasped broken -pieces of network from his hammock.</p> - -<p>"He was out of the lashings when we landed," Disbro went on. "We were -about to hit, and he grabbed hold. Must have passed out. But the big -lump's single-minded—abnormally so. He hung on without knowing, and -the breaking of those strands kept him from crashing full force."</p> - -<p>Planter knelt and pulled Max straight. Max was tremendous, a burly -troll in his coveralls. His shoulders were almost a yard wide, his -hands like oversize gloves. His big face, with its broad jaw, heavy -dark brows and ruddy cheeks, might have been handsome, was not the nose -smashed in by a blow taken in some old ring battle.</p> - -<p>"Don't waste water," cautioned Disbro as Planter hunted for the -food-locker. "I'll bring him out of it." He knelt and slapped the -inert face sharply.</p> - -<p>Max's mouth opened, showing a gap where his front teeth had been -beaten out. He gave a grumbling yell, then sprang erect so suddenly -that Disbro, starting away, almost fell through the hatchway. Max saw -Planter, scowled and snorted, then fell into a boxing stance. He inched -forward, his mighty fists fiddling hypnotically.</p> - -<p>"Time!" yelled Planter at once. "This isn't a fight, Max! We've -landed—safe and alive—on Venus!"</p> - -<p>Max's eyes widened a little. He grinned loosely, and pulled off his -helmet. His skull was thatched with bushy, black hair. "Uhh," he said, -in a deep, chiding tone. "I forgot. Uhhh."</p> - -<p>"Forgot!" echoed Disbro scornfully. "He sounds as if he had the ability -to remember."</p> - -<p>Planter studied the ports in this compartment. They, too, were obscured -by wet-looking grail soil. The ship must be well buried in the crust of -Venus. What if it was completely submerged, a tomb for them? He glanced -upward to another hatchway, one that would lead past the rocket engines.</p> - -<p>"Don't go up," Max cautioned him throatily. "Hot up there."</p> - -<p>"Brilliant," was Disbro's ill-humored rejoinder. "Max actually knows -that the engines will be hot."</p> - -<p>Planter clapped Max on the big shoulder. "It'll be all right," he -reassured the giant. "Get me a wrench, will you? That long-shanked one -for tightening tube-housings will do."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He scrambled up along the levers, which made a ladder of sorts. The -hatch to the engines had to be loosened with the wrench. Beyond, as -Max had sagely warned him, it was stiflingly hot. He avoided gleaming, -sweltering tubes and housings, scrambling to where a four-foot circle -of nuts showed in the bulkheading. This would be the plate that closed -the central stern, among the rear rocket-jets. He began to loosen one.</p> - -<p>"Stop that, you fool!" It was Disbro, who had climbed after him and was -watching. "Who knows about this lower atmosphere of Venus?"</p> - -<p>"I'm going to find out about it," replied Planter, a little roughly, -for he did not like Disbro's manner. He gave the nut another turn.</p> - -<p>"Wait, wait," cautioned Disbro. He climbed all the way into view, -holding up a glass flask with a neck attachment of gauges and pipings. -"I got a sample, through the lock-panel—plenty of air-bubbles were -carried down with us. Let me work it out before you do anything heroic."</p> - -<p>Disbro was right. He was usually right, about technologies. Planter -mopped his brow on the sleeve of his coverall, and waited.</p> - -<p>"Yes," Disbro was commenting. "Oxygen—nice article of that, and -plenty. Nitrogen, too. Just like Earth. Quite a bit of carbon dioxide. -It'll be from all that vegetation. Certified breathable. Go on and -unship that plate."</p> - -<p>Planter did so. He loosed the last net, and pushed against the plate. -It stirred easily—the after part of the ship would still be in the -open. Disbro, climbing after him, caught his elbow.</p> - -<p>"I go out first," he announced. "They marked me down as senior of the -expedition. One side."</p> - -<p>Planter stared quizzically, and once again did as Disbro told him. The -lean man thrust up the plate like a trapdoor, and crept out.</p> - -<p>"At last!" he yelled back. "Men on Venus! Come on, Planter!"</p> - -<p>Planter called back to Max, who was bringing up a bundle of articles -Disbro had chosen for the venture outside—two repeating rifles, two -pistols, several tools, and tins of food, coils of rope. Planter helped -him with the load, and they got outside with it.</p> - -<p>Disbro had slid down the step bulge of the hull. He clung to a -grab-iron, his feet just above the gray muck into which they had -plunged. He stared up.</p> - -<p>"First man to set foot on Venus," he was saying. "Who was second of you -two?"</p> - -<p>"We didn't stop to bother," Planter replied. "What now?"</p> - -<p>He stared around, to answer his own question. Venus was dull, like -a very cloudy day at home. The air was moist, but fresh, and little -wreaths and veils of mist kept one from seeing far. But he made out -that they had found lodgment in a sterile-looking clearing with a muddy -floor that might or might not sustain a man's weight. All around was a -crowded wall of vegetation—towering high above the range of his vision -into upper fog, tight grown as a hedge, and vigorously fat of twig and -leaf. Planter, no botanist, yet was aware at once of strangeness beyond -his power to describe. He knew that specimens should be gathered and -preserved to take home.</p> - -<p>To take home? Home to Earth? But the ship was almost buried in this -mud. He remembered Disbro's dry comment—"Our little gray home in the -west." They were on Venus. Undoubtedly to stay.</p> - -<p>Max, beside him, gave a sort of gurgling bellow of surprise and fear.</p> - -<p>"Uhhh! Something's got Mr. Disbro!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For once, Max was being articulate. For once, Disbro was being silent.</p> - -<p>Glancing down, Planter saw the slender, elegant figure writhed close -against the metal hull, clutching with both hands the grab-iron. Disbro -stared groundwards, and what could be seen of his face was as white as -a wood-boring grub. One of his legs was drawn up, knee bracing upon the -plates, the other stretched out grotesquely, as if to point a toe at -something in the muck.</p> - -<p>It took a second staring study to realize that a whiplike strand of -something that gleamed and tightened was snapped around Disbro's ankle.</p> - -<p>"Rope, Max," snapped Planter. He made a quick hitch around a -rocket-tube, and lowered himself in a rush. His free hand grasped a -heavy automatic pistol. He paused in his descent just above Disbro, -studying the black, shiny tether.</p> - -<p>It protruded from the semi-glutinous mud, which stirred and quivered -around the protrusion. A sense was there of rigid grasp and slowly -contracting pressure. It was squeezing the captured ankle, it was -shortening itself to pull Disbro down. Disbro said nothing because he -had caught his breath for an effort at wrenching free. But he could not -do that. His strong, lean fingers were beginning to slip on the grab -iron. He turned horror-widened eyes toward Planter.</p> - -<p>"Hang on," muttered Planter, and aimed his pistol. No sure shot, he -nevertheless was close to his target. He fired a .50 caliber slug, -another and another. Two of them hit the tail, tentacle or proboscis.</p> - -<p>At once it let go of Disbro, gesticulating wildly. Blood sprang forth -on its shiny integument—Venusian blood was red, mused Planter, even -as Venusian herbage was green. Disbro gave a choking gurgle that might -have been thanks, relief or effort. A moment later he was swarming up -Planter's rope like a monkey.</p> - -<p>But Planter did not follow. The appendage he had wounded was drawing -out of sight, like a worm into its hole; but two more just like it had -fastened upon his foot and knee.</p> - -<p>He lost his grip and fell into the mud. It was like a dip into thick -gravy. The stuff lapped and closed over his head, and he let go of the -pistol to try to swim. A couple of laborious strokes brought him back -to the surface, gasping and blowing away thick lumps from nose and -mouth. A moment later two more tentacles were groping and seizing at -his shoulder and waist. Four bonds now tightened upon him, like lariats.</p> - -<p>Planter seemed to be thinking in two compartments. One set of thoughts -dictated his floundering, desperate struggle. The other considered the -situation with a curiosity dispassionate and almost mild. The creature -that snared him was just what he might have expected—something on the -octopus order. How many science fiction stories had dealt with such -monsters on strange worlds? The creepy writhings of tentacles appealed -to fantasy writers—the neat, simple, active structure of the brute was -logical to the great mechanic who devised Nature. The thing had him, in -any case, if he could not kick or struggle or cut free.</p> - -<p><i>Cut free!</i> That was it. He had a knife, in the side pocket of his -coveralls.</p> - -<p>He dug for it, almost dropped it from his muddy fingers, then yanked -open the biggest blade. He slashed at the nearest tentacle, the one -around his waist. It parted like a cane-stalk before a machete. The -other arms quivered and slackened, plainly shocked by pain. Planter -rolled out of their grip, started to swim away anywhere.</p> - -<p>He looked over his shoulder and saw his enemy as it humped itself -partially into view.</p> - -<p>Not such an octopus, after all.</p> - -<p>The dispassionate part of Planter's brain called the thing an animated -tall tree. The slender tentacles sprouted from a thicker trunk, -that could curve and writhe and wallow, but not so readily. It was -of a rubbery gray-brown, and at the upper end, nested among the -tentacle-roots, was what must be its mouth. That mouth opened and shut -in almost wistful hunger. Planter swam furiously. He wanted to reach -and climb the stern of the rocket ship, but the thing knew his wish, -and moved to head him off. He kicked and fought his way toward the far -mass of leaves that bordered this mud-pit.</p> - -<p>From among those leaves glowed for an instant a sort of splinter of -yellow light. A small object sang over Planter's helmeted head like a -bee, and struck behind him with a little <i>chock</i>. It must have found -lodgment against the hall-tree thing, which paused in its pursuit -to flop and spatter the mud with its tentacles. Planter blessed the -diversion, whatever it was, and strove nearer to the shore.</p> - -<p>The forest was alive, he suddenly decided. Out of its misty tangle -a great leafy branch swung knowingly toward him. He clutched at it, -brought away a fat, moist handful of strange-shaped leaves. His other -hand made good its hold on the branch itself, and with the last of his -strength he dragged himself to where roots hummocked above the mud.</p> - -<p>Then he saw where the branch had come from. A slim, active figure stood -among the stems, pressing with both hands upon the base of the branch -to make it move into the open. As Planter scrambled to safety, the -figure relaxed its helpful shoving, and the branch moved back toward -the perpendicular.</p> - -<p>Planter gazed in utter lost unbelief at this stranger.</p> - -<p>It was a woman, young, fair, fine-limbed. She wore the briefest of -garments, belted around with strange weapons, and her feet were shod in -cross-gartered buskins. Upon her tumble of golden curls rode a metal -helmet that reminded him of Grecian antiquity. Her bare arms, round -but strong, cradled something with a stock and butt of a musket, but -with a short, tight-strung bow at its muzzle—surely the pattern of a -medieval crossbow.</p> - -<p>Her face was of a flawless pink-and-white beauty, just now stamped with -utter disdain. Its short, rosy mouth opened, and formed words.</p> - -<p>Words that Planter understood!</p> - -<p>"You fool," said the girl with the crossbow. "You scurvy fool."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Disbro, barely able to stir for shock and weariness, climbed only a -few hand's breadths out of danger before he must stop and wheeze for -breath. At last he could make himself heard:</p> - -<p>"Max! You pighead, help me!"</p> - -<p>"Uhh," came the grunt of assent from above, as the big fellow slid -down in turn. He slipped a thick arm around Disbro, hoisting the tall, -slender body as if it were a bundle of old clothes, and slid it across -a shoulder like the jut of a crag. Then Max scaled the rope once again, -to the safe top of the nosed-over rocket ship.</p> - -<p>Disbro found his own feet, and shakily wiped his clear-cut face, still -pale from exertion and terror. "That was close."</p> - -<p>"Say," ventured Max, "Mr. Planter, he's gone."</p> - -<p>Disbro looked around. The mud expanse around them was stirred up as if -by boiling struggles, but there was no sign of Planter or the thing -with the tentacles.</p> - -<p>"That thing got him," decided Disbro, but Max shook his heavy head.</p> - -<p>"Huh-uh," he demurred. "No. The girl, she got him."</p> - -<p>"Girl?" echoed Disbro, and scowled.</p> - -<p>"What girl?"</p> - -<p>Max pointed with a finger like the haft of a hammer. "She was in the -trees. Got him."</p> - -<p>Disbro peered at the trees, then at Max. His scowl deepened. "What are -you drivelling about?"</p> - -<p>"The girl," said Max.</p> - -<p>Disbro snorted and skinned his teeth in scorn.</p> - -<p>"How," he demanded of the misty skies, "do I get mixed up with minus -quantities like this? A girl, the man says! Here on Venus!"</p> - -<p>"A girl," repeated Max firmly.</p> - -<p>Disbro wheeled upon him.</p> - -<p>"Come off of that!" he commanded sharply. "Planter's gone. Dead. You're -all I have to associate with. You'll act sane, whether you are or not."</p> - -<p>Max's big, pained eyes faltered before the glittering accusation of -Disbro's gaze. "All right," he conceded.</p> - -<p>"There wasn't any girl there, you idiot!"</p> - -<p>Max nodded. "I saw—"</p> - -<p>"Shut up!" Disbro cut him off. "No girl, I said!"</p> - -<p>"No girl," repeated Max obediently.</p> - -<p>Rain began to fall, fat drops the size of marbles.</p> - -<p>"Back inside," commanded Disbro. "There'll be lots of this kind of -weather. We'll have something to eat, then study another way to reach -the trees yonder."</p> - -<p>"No girl," said Max. "But I saw."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The rain that drove Disbro and Max back into their shelter filtered -through layers of leafage, beginning to wash the mud from Planter's -clothing. He stared again at his rescuer.</p> - -<p>"I seem to have understood what you said," he managed at last.</p> - -<p>"Isn't so strange, that?" she flung back, in words somehow run -together. "E'en though you're mad enow to sport with yonder muck-worm," -and her wide, bright blue eyes flicked toward the danger he had lately -avoided, "you'll have the tongue of mankind. Art no man?"</p> - -<p>"Man enough, young woman," rejoined Planter, a little nettled. "I -suppose it's like the fantasies—we can read each other's minds, or -something."</p> - -<p>"Something," she echoed, as if humoring a child.</p> - -<p>"And I owe you thanks for saving my life."</p> - -<p>"Oh, 'twas no great matter." She shouldered the crossbow. "Come, for -the Skygors will be about our heels."</p> - -<p>She picked her way rapidly among the steam, with the surest and -cleverest of feet. Women on Earth were never so graceful or sure, -decided Planter, hurrying after. He was aware that he did not step -on the muddy surface of Venus, but upon a matted over-floor, of -roots, fallen stems, ground-vines, sometimes great sturdy leaves like -lily-pads grown to the size of double mattresses. "Wait, young lady," -he called, "who are the Skygors, you mentioned and why should they be -after us?"</p> - -<p>She halted again, swung and studied him with more of that disdainful -curiosity. "'Tis a gruel-brained idiot," she decided, as if to herself. -"For that they cast him out. Methought 'twas strange that a man should -flee, of himself, from sure shelter and victual."</p> - -<p>It was raining harder. The great roof of vegetation only partially -broke that downpour. It sluiced away the coating of mud from Planter, -and soaked his stout garments through. He felt miserable in the -dampness, but his girl guide throve, if anything, in the drops that -struck and rolled down her bare arms and shoulders.</p> - -<p>He saw, too, that she followed something of a trail among the stalks -and stems. It was barely wider than his own stalwart shoulders could -pass, and wound crazily here and there; but one must stick to it, for -to right and left the jungle grew thicker than a basket. He called out -again.</p> - -<p>"Miss! Young lady!"</p> - -<p>She turned, as before. "What now?"</p> - -<p>"This path—what is it? Did you make it? Tell me things." He made a -gesture of appeal, for she was putting on that look of contempt once -more. "You see, I'm no more than an hour old on this planet—"</p> - -<p>"Od so! Your brain is younger than that. Leave me, I have no time for -idiots."</p> - -<p>Abruptly she stiffened, widened her eyes, lifted a finger to her red -lips for silence. The two of them stood close together in the misty -rain, their ears sharpened. Planter heard what she had heard—a -rustling, crunching approach, along some other angle of the jungle path.</p> - -<p>The girl wrenched apart two sappy lengths of vine, and with a jerk -of her head bade Planter slip through into the great thicket. He did -so, and she followed. Turning, her lithe body close against his, she -brought her crossbow to the ready.</p> - -<p>"Danger?" whispered Planter, and she nodded bleakly.</p> - -<p>The approach was coming near. Planter judged that whatever threatened -them was two-legged, weighty, and great-lunged—many yards off, it -wheezed like a faulty engine. His companion's ears were better than -his, or more experienced. She gauged the nearness of the stranger, and -the crossbow went to her shoulder like a rifle. Planter saw that it -operated on a spring trigger that would trip a latch and release the -string. The bow, violently recovering from its bending, would force the -missile along a groove in the top of the stock. All parts—stock, bow, -and string—were of some massive dark metal, apparently treated with -grease to save it from the constant dampness. The missile itself was -not an arrow, but seemed the size and shape of a silvery fountain pen. -Planter burned to ask questions about it; but the enemy was in sight by -now, something of mottled green and black that shouldered upright along -the way between the thickets.</p> - -<p>Planter felt his companion's body grow tense against his shoulder. Her -finger touched the trigger lightly. The metal string twanged, and with -a waspy hum the missile leaped toward its target. At the same time, a -little burst of flame showed from it, bright yellow. <i>Chock!</i> the shot -went home, as that other shot against the thing called a muck-worm.</p> - -<p>Down floundered the green-spotted form. At once the girl was out of -hiding, and stooping above her quarry.</p> - -<p>Planter, following, peered with wonder and caution. He saw a body -larger than himself, and grotesquely of the same build. A dumpy torso -on massive back-bent legs like a cricket's; wide flapper feet, a -round, low head with a monstrous slash of mouth, big eyes now filming -with death, no nose at all—the creature was very like a nightmare -frog. But this frog wore garments, of linked and plaited metal wire -and rubbery-looking fabric. It had a silver belt, with pouches and -holsters. These pouches and holsters the girl was now plundering.</p> - -<p>"Quick," she snapped at Planter over her rosy shoulder. "Take the -spoil. He will have friends, and they must not find us."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Her tone was still reminiscent of Disbro speaking to Max. Planter's -ravenous curiosity was at last completely overridden. "Young lady," he -said flatly. "I'm not prepared to endure any more—"</p> - -<p>She suddenly screamed, not like a warrior but like any girl who is -mortally frightened.</p> - -<p>Planter had the time to realize that she saw something just beyond him. -He pivoted and set himself as another of the froggy beings charged.</p> - -<p>"More Skygors!" he heard a cry behind him, and he knew that it was -Skygors he faced.</p> - -<p>Planter was a boxer of sorts, strong if not brilliant, and his -unthinking reflex was to plant his feet, bend his knees, and crouch -for attack or defense. That reflex shortened his height by several -inches, and saved his life. The Skygors that rushed him had pointed a -pistol-form weapon, from which came yellow flame as from the crossbow. -A silvery object meant to scatter his brains only sang above his head -with millimeters to spare. Before the pistol-like weapon could aim and -spit again, Planter had charged in.</p> - -<p>It was all he could do, but it was enough. He jabbed viciously with his -left fist, followed with his right to the abdomen. The left knuckles -slashed soft flesh about the wide mouth, his right hand almost broke -on a hard belt-buckle. Both blows were staggering to the wheezing -adversary, who dropped its pistol and yelled with a voice like a steam -whistle. It made words, each of them almost deafening to Planter. To -silence it more than anything else, Planter drove in closer still and -lifted an uppercut as though it were a shovelful of gravel.</p> - -<p>It found the point where a Terrestrial man would have a chin. Down -floundered the clumsy body, and Planter, with no thought of referees -or rules, set his heavy boot on the face and bashed it in. He stepped -across the subsiding form, in time to encounter another.</p> - -<p>This one got great flappy hands upon him. Their grip was knowing, -powerful, wicked. The Skygor plucked him close, its mouth grinned into -a gape. It had teeth, it was going to bite.</p> - -<p>He was held by the shoulders, and doubted if he could break away. -Instead of trying, he put his own hands to the thing's elbows, drew -his right knee tight to his chest and planted a toe in a metal-clad -midriff. Then, even as the open paw sought to seize his face, he threw -himself backward. Landing flat on his shoulder blades, he drew down -with his hands and hoisted with his feet.</p> - -<p>His opponent somersaulted in air, and fell with a heavy squashing thump -upon the root-tangled floor of the trail. In a flash, Planter was up. -He jumped with both feet. Bones broke under the impact. A second -Skygor was down—dead or dying—</p> - -<p>"Aside!" the girl was calling, and he obeyed, flattening against a -cross-weaving of vine stems. She was risen upon one knee, crossbow to -shoulder. It twanged, flashed, and once again its successful charge -sounded its <i>chock</i>. Planter glanced down the trail in time to see a -fourth and last Skygor drop down.</p> - -<p>He found that he was gasping for air, and trembling as though the -danger were still to come instead of past. The girl rose, came to him, -and touched his arm. She smiled, her eyes shone. Gone was the contempt, -the superiority. She only admired, completely and frankly.</p> - -<p>"Sink me, you're a fighter," she said. "Ecod! I saw only the flight of -fists, and a Skygor went down, and another! You saved my life—and we -have four Skygors to strip, with none to boom about where we went from -here. Your name, friend?"</p> - -<p>"Planter," he said. "David Planter."</p> - -<p>"David Planter," she repeated. Her "A" was very broad, so that she made -the name almost "Dyvid." Again she smiled. "A king's name, is't not? I -am called Mara. Come, help me take what is valuable from this carrion."</p> - -<p>Planter's heart warmed to her. "Thanks for your kind words," he smiled -back. "But I did what any man would do."</p> - -<p>"All men are slaves," she surprised him by saying. "You will amaze the -other girl-warriors, when I bring you to the Nest."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Disbro, standing on the glass port-pane that was now floor for the -control-room, labored and cursed at his keyboard. He pressed one, two, -an octave. The nosed-over ship stirred, but did not rise.</p> - -<p>"Max!" bawled Disbro to the upper hatch. "Pressure!"</p> - -<p>"Giving you all there is," Max informed him timidly.</p> - -<p>Disbro turned from his controls, shrugging in disgust.</p> - -<p>"Those bow-tubes are jammed or displaced," he cursed. "We can't clear -off till we get her up and clean them—and we can't get her up and -clean them until they work. Huhh!"</p> - -<p>Max's big, diffident face framed itself in the hatchway, registering a -small hope.</p> - -<p>"We're floating," he volunteered. "Close to those trees and things."</p> - -<p>Disbro showed interest. "Then we'll get our feet on solid ground, -or nearly solid. That tentacle-thing won't be sloshing around." He -beckoned. "Come down."</p> - -<p>Max obeyed. From a locker Disbro took a pressure squirt of -waterproofing liquid. He sprayed Max's clothes, then his own. "That'll -shed rain," he said. "Buckle on a pistol, if you're smart enough to use -one. And give me two."</p> - -<p>Once more the hammocks in the lower chamber, and the levers in the -higher, gave them a ladder-way up. Disbro, emerging first into the -damp, warm mist, saw at once that they had visitors.</p> - -<p>The ship, as Max said, floated close to the mat of growth that fringed -the muddy pool. Here the jungle consisted of meaty stems, straight, -thick and close-set, with tangled fermiform foliage. A little above -mud-level, gnarled roots wove into a firm footing, and upon it, -pressing from the thickets toward the ship, were huge biped creatures -in gleaming metal harness.</p> - -<p>These had chopped down spongy trunks and branches, on which to venture -over the mud-surface as on rafts. Coming near the ship, they had -passed cables of grease-clotted metal wire around it, mooring it fast -to thicker trunks. As Disbro stared down, several of them began to -converse in tones that rang and boomed like great gongs. Half-deafened, -Disbro still could perceive that their voices had inflection and sense. -Harness, concerted action, tools, a language—here was a master race, -comparable to Terrestrial humanity.</p> - -<p>One of them turned a bulging black eye upward, and saw Disbro. Its flat -face split across, and a mouth like an open Gladstone bag shouted its -discovery. One green paw, webbed but prehensile, snatched a weapon from -a metal-linked waist belt, and aimed it at the Terrestrial.</p> - -<p>But Disbro, too, was quick on the draw. His gang-rule on Earth had -necessitated shooting skill as well as leadership. His own automatic -sprang into his hand. "No, you don't!" he snapped, and shot the weapon -out of the Venusian's flipper.</p> - -<p>It screamed in a voice that vibrated the steamy air, and its companions -started and shrank back in startled wonder. Disbro drew a second -pistol, leveling it at them.</p> - -<p>"I'll shoot the first one that moves," he promised, as if they could -understand; and understand they did. Up went shaky flipper-hands.</p> - -<p>"No! No!" they boomed in thunderous humility. "Don't! Don't!"</p> - -<p>He had not the time to wonder that they spoke words he knew. He swung -his weapons in swift arcs, covering them all. Max, behind, had sense -enough to level the long barrel of a repeating rifle. "Please!" roared -a Venusian who seemed to be a leader. "We do naught to you!"</p> - -<p>"Better not," cautioned Disbro loftily. "We're more profitable as -friends than as enemies."</p> - -<p>"Friends!" agreed the leader. "Friends!"</p> - -<p>"If you try any funny business—" went on Disbro. "Well, watch!"</p> - -<p>He snapped his right-hand gun up and fired. The bullet snipped away a -leaf the size of an opened umbrella. As the great green blob drifted -down, Disbro fired again and again, until, ripped to rags, the leaf -fell limply among the Venusians. They moaned, like awe-struck fog horns.</p> - -<p>"Understand?" taunted Disbro. "Savvy? I could kill you all as easy as -look at you."</p> - -<p>"Friends!" promised the leader again.</p> - -<p>"Max," muttered Disbro, "these birds quit very easily without a fight. -But keep me covered from up here."</p> - -<p>Planter's rope still dangled along the hull. Disbro slid down, coming -to his feet on the raft-heap below. The Venusians gave back in wary -confusion. Disbro allowed himself to smile upward.</p> - -<p>"See what an ape you are, Max?" he chuckled. "You got a look at one of -these, and thought it was a girl! You're not much of a picker, Max."</p> - -<p>To the Venusian chief he said: "I think I'll muscle in on your -territory."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Mara, the crossbow-girl, brought Planter to the place she called the -Nest.</p> - -<p>It was hollowed out in the thickest part of the towering jungle, as a -rabbit's form is hollowed among tall grasses. The floor was of plaited -and pressed withes, supported on stumps and roots of many tall growths. -Rounding upward and outward from this were walls, also of wooden poles -and twigs, woven into the growing tangle. The roof was similarly made, -but strengthened and waterproofed with earth, dried and baked by some -sort of intense heat.</p> - -<p>The space thus blocked off was shaped like the rough inside of a hollow -pumpkin, and in size was comparable to the auditorium of a large -theater. Within it were set up smaller huts and bowers. There were -common cooking-fires, in ovens of stone and mud-brick, and a great -common light suspended from the ceiling by a long heavy chain. This was -a metal lamp, fed by oily sap from some sort of tree.</p> - -<p>Finding the Nest was difficult. Mara had picked a careful way through -mazes of thick vegetation, paying special attention to the rearranging -of leaves and branches behind them. Sagely she explained that the -Skygors, when hunting her kind, were thus completely lost. Even at the -very doorstep of the Nest, the tangled vines, branches and leaf-sprays -obscured any hint of such a place at hand.</p> - -<p>The dwellers in the Nest were all women.</p> - -<p>They came cautiously forward, twenty or so, as Mara ushered Planter -inside. They were active specimens, dressed scantily and attractively, -like Mara. Most of them were young, several comely. All were fair of -skin and hair, a logical condition in the cloudy air of Venus. They -wore daggers, hatchets, ammunition pouches. Even at home, they all -carried crossbows.</p> - -<p>"What does this man here?" demanded a lean, harsh-faced woman of middle -age. "Is he not content with servitude?"</p> - -<p>Mara shook her head. "He's like none we know. He fights more fiercely -than we—Ecod, shouldst have seen him! Bare-handed, he o'ercame two -Skygors. I slew two more. Look at our trove!"</p> - -<p>She opened a parcel of great leaves, and showed dozens of the silver -pens that were ammunition for both the Skygor pistols and the -human crossbows. Planter also showed what he had brought from the -battlefield—several belts, numerous harness fastenings, and two of the -guns. These latter made the crossbow-girls nervous.</p> - -<p>"We stand by these," Mara said, tapping her crossbow.</p> - -<p>Planter fiddled with a pistol. Its mechanism was strange but -understandable, and he flattered himself that he could learn to use -it. As for the pen-missiles, they seemed to contain a charge that -burned violently on exposure to air. The trigger-mechanism, whether of -pistol or crossbow, punctured it, set it afire, and the vehemence of -combustion not only propelled it but destroyed the target completely.</p> - -<p>The older woman, whose name was Mantha, nodded her head over a decision.</p> - -<p>"Let the man have the dag," she granted, with an air of authority. "If -he fights as Mara says, he may be of aid. Yet he is unlike those we -know, in hue and aspect."</p> - -<p>True enough, Planter was dark of complexion, with black curls and ruddy -tan jaws. He spoke to Mantha, respectfully, for the others called her -"Mother" and treated her as a commander.</p> - -<p>"I'm not of your people," he said. "I come from another planet. Earth."</p> - -<p>"Earth?" she repeated. "You come from there? Why, so do we all."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Down a trail went a patrol of Skygors. Among them, not much under -them in size, tramped Max. His broad shoulders bore a great burden of -supplies from the ship. At the head of the procession, next to the -chief, walked Disbro.</p> - -<p>As someone else was saying to Planter at almost the same moment, the -chief Skygor boomed to Disbro: "You are not like men we know."</p> - -<p>"Naturally not," agreed Disbro. "Your race is more like a bunch of -freak reptiles."</p> - -<p>"Not my race," demurred the chief Skygor. "Men. Slaves."</p> - -<p>Disbro understood only part, and took exception to that. "I'm no slave -of yours," he warned.</p> - -<p>"No. Equal. We have long needed equal men, to kill off the wild girls."</p> - -<p>"You see, Mr. Disbro?" chimed in Max from behind.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>David Planter was embarrassed.</p> - -<p>Inside the Nest, he sat on a crude chair opposite Mantha, the Mother. -The overhead light burned dim, and damp-banishing fires in the ovens -mingled red glows. Planter asked questions, but was distracted by -the crossbow-girls, who watched him with round eyes, whispering and -giggling. Mara, near by, scowled at the noise-makers.</p> - -<p>"This Venus world has much that's unknown," Mantha said. "Here in the -north can we dwell. Not many days off the steam is thick, the heat -horrid, the jungle dreadful. None go there and return."</p> - -<p>"Mother, if you are called that, enlighten me," begged Planter. "You -say you come from Earth."</p> - -<p>"Our fathers came. Lifetimes agone."</p> - -<p>Planter's good-looking face showed his amazement. Interworld flight was -new, he had thought. But some unknown expedition might have tried it, -succeeded, and then never returned to report.</p> - -<p>"'Twas for fear of black Cromwell," Mantha enlarged.</p> - -<p>"Cromwell!" echoed Planter. "The Puritan leader who fought and wiped -out the English Cavaliers?"</p> - -<p>Mantha seized on one word. "Cavaliers. Yes. Our lives were forfeit. We -flew hither."</p> - -<p>It explained everything—human beings in a world never meant for -anything but amphibians, their fair complexions, their quaint but -understandable speech, the crossbows that would be familiar weapons to -Shakespere, Drake or Captain John Smith. Yes, it explained everything, -except how pre-machine age Britishers could succeed on a voyage where -eight space-ships before Planter's had failed.</p> - -<p>"How did you fly?" demanded Planter, amazed.</p> - -<p>Mantha shook her graying locks. "Nay, I know not. 'Twas long ago, and -all records are held in the Skygor fastness."</p> - -<p>"They stole from you?"</p> - -<p>"After our fathers made landfall, there was war," Mantha said, her -voice bitter. "The Skygors were many, and would have slain all, but -thought to hold slaves. And as slaves our fathers dwelt and died, and -their children after them."</p> - -<p>"But you aren't slaves," protested Planter.</p> - -<p>"'Tis Skygor fashion to keep all men, and such women as are hale enow -for toil. Others who seem weak they cast forth to die, like us!"</p> - -<p>"Who did not die," chimed in Mara, plucking her bowstring. "We found -fruits, meat, shelter, and joined. Now we slay Skygors for their metals -and shot. Lately they slay weaklings, lest they join us."</p> - -<p>Planter whistled. This was a harsh proof of human tenacity. The Skygors -discarding unprofitable servants and finding them a menace. "None of -you are weaklings," he said.</p> - -<p>"Freedom brings health," replied Mantha sententiously. "Yet they are -many more than we, well fortified, and have a strange spell to whelm -those who attack." She grimaced in distaste. "We but lurk and linger, -fighting when we must and fleeing when we may. As the last of us dies—"</p> - -<p>Things began to happen.</p> - -<p>A tall, robust girl, very handsome, had been hitching her woven chair -close to Planter. With a pert boldness she touched his hand.</p> - -<p>"I've seen no man since I was driven forth, a child," she informed him. -"I like you. I am Sala."</p> - -<p>Mara rose from her own seat, swore a rather Elizabethan oath, and -slapped Sala's face resoundingly.</p> - -<p>Sala, too, sprang up. Larger than Mara, she clutched her assailant's -shoulders and tripped her over a neatly extended foot. Mara spun -sidewise in falling, broke Sala's hold, came to her feet with a drawn -dagger.</p> - -<p>This happened silently and swiftly, with none of the screaming and -fumbling that marks the rare battles between Terrestrial women. Planter -stared, half aghast and half admiring. Another girl whispered behind -him: "Let them fight, send them ill days! Look at me, I am not ugly."</p> - -<p>Perhaps to flee this new admirer, Planter threw himself between the -two fighters. As Mara attempted to stab Sala, Planter caught her -weapon wrist and wrenched the knife from her. Meanwhile, Sala snatched -up a crossbow. Leaving Mara, Planter struck the thing out of aiming -line just in time. The pen-missile tore through the baskety wall of -the Nest, and Planter gained possession of the crossbow, not without -trouble.</p> - -<p>"Are you girls fighting over me?" he demanded.</p> - -<p>"Egad, what else?" challenged Mantha, who had also sprung forward. "Art -a man of height and presence. For any man these my manless girls would -contend."</p> - -<p>"Aye, would we," agreed one of the bevy, with frightening candor.</p> - -<p>"He's mine," snapped Mara, holding her own crossbow at the ready. "Step -forth who will, and I speak true."</p> - -<p>"I'm nobody's," exploded Planter. "Anyway, I'm going—I've two friends -near here that I've got to find, and soon!"</p> - -<p>"More men!" ejaculated Sala, forgetting her anger.</p> - -<p>"Fighters, with weapons," said Planter, ignoring her. "They'll help you -smoke out these Skygors and set free your kinsmen."</p> - -<p>Happy cries greeted his words.</p> - -<p>"I'll guide you home, David Planter," offered Mara, and Mantha gestured -approval.</p> - -<p>Mara and Planter left the Nest by a new jungle trail. Mara explained -that these tunnels were made by great floundering beasts, and served -as runways for smaller land life. The girl trod the green, fog-filled -labyrinths with assurance. Within minutes they reached the pool where -Disbro had landed the ship.</p> - -<p>At the edge floated the limp, dead thing that Mara had killed to save -Planter. Small flutterers, like gross-winged flies but as large as -gulls, swarmed to dig out morsels. Mara called the creature a krau, -the flying scavengers ghrols. "Skygor words, for ugly beasts," she -commented. "Neither is good for food."</p> - -<p>Planter picked his way from root to root toward the ship. "Disbro!" he -called. "Max!"</p> - -<p>There was no answer. He scrambled up and inside, then out again. -"Something's happened," he said gravely.</p> - -<p>Mara studied the massed logs that made a rough raft. "Skygor work. And -eke the rope of wires about your ship."</p> - -<p>"They've been captured by Skygors? For slaves?" Planter had climbed -down again. His hand sought the Skygor pistol at his belt, his face -was tense and pale. "I'll get them back. Where's this swamp-city you -mention?"</p> - -<p>She pointed. "Not far. But the way is perilous. The trails throng with -Skygors, and there is the spell."</p> - -<p>"That sounds like some old superstition," snorted Planter. "I'm not -afraid of Skygors. I killed two today."</p> - -<p>"Aye," she smiled. "They are not great fighters in these parts. But -there are more than two at the city ... come along."</p> - -<p>"You can go back to the Nest."</p> - -<p>She smiled more broadly. "How else will you find the way, my David? For -you <i>are</i> my David."</p> - -<p>"Don't start that again," he bade her, more roughly than he felt. "Lead -the way."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Mara took a nearby jungle trail. After some time, she paused and -studied the matted footing. "Tracks," she pronounced. "Certain Skygors, -and two pairs of feet shod like yours."</p> - -<p>Planter looked at the muddled marks thus diagnosed by the skilled -trail-eye of Mara. "My friends and their captors?"</p> - -<p>"Aye, that. They went this way. Come."</p> - -<p>She slipped aside through the close-set stems. Planter did likewise. -Mara slung her crossbow behind her, and climbed a trunk as a beetle -scales a flower-stalk. "'Tis safer from Skygors up here," she told him -over her shoulder "Follow me carefully."</p> - -<p>Planter did so, with difficulty. He was a vigorous climber, and the -lesser gravity of Venus made him more agile. But Mara, some forty feet -overhead, swung through the criss-cross of limbs and vines like a -squirrel. "Wait!" he called, striving to catch up.</p> - -<p>She paused, finger to lips. As he came near, she said softly: "Not so -loud! We come close. Feel you the spell?"</p> - -<p>Hanging quietly, Planter did feel it.</p> - -<p>Uneasiness came, chilling his back despite the steamy warmth. His hair -stirred on his head, his teeth gritted, and he could not reason himself -out of the mood. Mara moved ahead, and he followed. Growing accustomed -to the climbing, he made progress. But the uncomfortable sense of peril -grew rather than diminished.</p> - -<p>Once in their strange journey Mara paused, and from a belt-pouch -produced food. It consisted of fire-dried fruits, strange to Planter -but tasty and substantial; also two meat-dumplings, made by wrapping a -nut-flavored dough around morsels of flesh. For drink she plucked long -spear-like leaves from a vine, and Planter found them full of pungent -juice. While they munched, he heard boomings in the distance, which -Mara identified as Skygor speech.</p> - -<p>"We are almost there," she whispered. "Look well."</p> - -<p>She rose, and again they took up the journey. After a time she paused -again, and pointed.</p> - -<p>Just beyond them the branches thinned out over a great open space in -the jungle. Under a far-flung canopy of white vapors lay the swamp-city -of the Skygors.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Planter, gazing in wonder at the strange city, thought of old Venice, -or of a beaver colony in a diked pond. Before and beneath him was a -quiet greeny-clear body of water. Around its rim grew shrubs, bushes -and huge reeds, their roots clasping the great facing of white rock -which apparently paved the banks and bottom of the pool. In the water -itself, poking above the surface in little pointed clusters and plainly -visible where they extended beneath, were the houses of the Skygors.</p> - -<p>They were of some kind of soil or clay that had been processed to a -concrete hardness, and were tinted in various colors. Some of the -smaller dwellings were roughly spherical, and crowned with cone-shaped -roofs. Others, larger, protruded well above the water in cylindrical -form. Here and there travel-ways connected the clustered groups.</p> - -<p>But it was beneath the surface that the town was complex and great. It -seemed to lie tier above tier, closely built and grouped, with here and -there protruding arms or wings of building, like coral budded from the -main mass. In those depths swam myriads of Skygors, plainly at home -under water. More of them, at the window-holes of the upper towers -or paddling on the surface, boomed and roared to each other in their -deafening language. From on high, Planter saw them as smaller and less -to be dreaded. They might have been slight fantasy things, water-elves -or super-intelligent frogs.</p> - -<p>"Look you, David Planter," prompted Mara, at his elbow.</p> - -<p>From a tunnel-like hole in the jungle, a group of Skygors emerged. -Among them were two human figures, clad like Planter in loose overalls -and helmets.</p> - -<p>"Your friends?" Mara questioned.</p> - -<p>"Right," snapped Planter grimly. He drew the pistol-weapon and glared.</p> - -<p>Disbro and Max, the latter stooping under a great bale of goods from -the ship, had paused on the brink of the water. A Skygor was thundering -to them, in words of English which Planter, across the water, found -hard to catch. Other Skygors motioned at the pool, and one or two -jumped in and struck out for nearby buildings.</p> - -<p>"They want your friends to dive," Mara informed him. "See, the slim -one shakes his head."</p> - -<p>Planter rested the pistol on his forearm, and sighted on the Skygor -who harangued Disbro. Meanwhile, other Skygors were bringing up -what appeared to be a small, inflated boat, that operated with a -paddle-wheel arrangement behind.</p> - -<p>Mara saw what Planter was doing. "No!" she gasped. "Don't, David!"</p> - -<p>"I'm going to," he told her.</p> - -<p>"We'll be next!"</p> - -<p>"Nonsense! Those flapper-footed devils can't climb! They're too heavy, -too clumsy!"</p> - -<p>She caught at his weapon wrist, but he had fired.</p> - -<p>The Skygor weapon was a wondrous one. Even an indifferent shot like -Planter could not miss with it. The Skygor beside Disbro seemed to -burst into flame around his flat, bushel-mouthed face, and then he -collapsed and lay still. His companions swarmed to his side, rending -the air with their horrid yells.</p> - -<p>Planter chuckled, and Mara moaned. The man moved forward among the -branches, to a place where he could be seen.</p> - -<p>"Hai, Disbro!" he trumpeted, as loudly as any Skygor. "Max! It's David -Planter! Run while you have the chance, I'll pick those toads off!"</p> - -<p>But neither of his friends offered to escape. They only stood and gazed -at him.</p> - -<p>"You idiots!" blazed Planter, and then saw that two of the Skygors on -the inflated boat were aiming weapons at him. He sent a silver pen -at their craft, and it melted abruptly as its air escaped from the -puncture. A third shot took one of the Skygors splashing in the water. -"Run, you two!" Planter bade his companions once more.</p> - -<p>He felt a grip on his ankle, and glanced down. Mara had crouched low, -was trying to pull him back from view. As soon as she had his eye, she -let him go, and thrust both fingers into her ears in some sort of a -sign he did not comprehend.</p> - -<p>Understanding dawned suddenly, and too late.</p> - -<p>The mist trembled and swirled at a sudden outburst of sound louder than -even a Skygor chorus. Planter dropped his weapon, began to lift his -hands to his ears in imitation of Mara. But he could not!</p> - -<p>The noise possessed him, as a rush of electric current might course -through a body, paralyzing and agonizing it. He swayed and floundered -among the branches. His hair bristled, his ears rang, his blood -coursed, every fiber of him vibrated. Yet something about it was -vaguely familiar, as though it was something he had experienced, or a -magnification of such a something.</p> - -<p>Yes, of course ... the uneasiness that Mara called the "spell." Some -device made a noise-vibration, normally sub-audible but unpleasant -enough to warn aliens away. In a time like this, when attack came, it -could be intensified to the point of striking the enemy stupid.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, he was falling, through branches and leafage, to splash -clumsily into the water of the pool. Abruptly the noise ceased. The -Skygors were around him, their flipper-hands fastening upon him, and he -was too wrung out, too grateful for silence, to resist.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He may have fainted. Later on, he could not be sure. But his next clear -memory was of lying in one of the inflated paddle-boats, in which sat -Skygors with weapons. There also sat Disbro, watching him intently.</p> - -<p>"Disbro!" muttered Planter. "They got you, too?"</p> - -<p>"No, they didn't get me, too," mimicked Disbro. "I'm in the racket with -them, understand?"</p> - -<p>Planter sat up, and two Skygors half-drew their weapons to warn him. "I -thought you were captured," he mumbled.</p> - -<p>"Not me. I do things neatly. Showed I could be an enemy, but would -rather be a friend. You butted in, killing two of them. Someone says -you got two others earlier today. They're holding you a prisoner, and -probably you'll be killed."</p> - -<p>Planter studied Disbro. "Easy does it," he said softly. "Better not act -as if you know me. You might get mixed up in—"</p> - -<p>"No chance!" snarled Disbro. "I told them that you were an enemy of -mine. I'm not mixed up in anything."</p> - -<p>Planter subsided. Plainly Disbro was able to take care of himself. -Plainly Planter must do the same, with no help from anyone. He -wondered about Mara, with a sudden chilled pang. The brave girl -had guided him here, despite her knowledge that Skygor country was -dangerous. She had done it to please him, because she liked him. He -wondered what had happened to her.</p> - -<p>He lounged under the Skygor guns, thinking of Mara. In his mind he saw -the light of her steady blue eyes, felt the touch of her slim, strong -hand. His heart quickened.</p> - -<p>"Hang it," he told himself, "you aren't in love with her. She's a -savage, and you only met her a few hours ago! You're only worried -because you feel responsibility."</p> - -<p>But he knew he lied.</p> - -<p>The boat brought them to an entrance-hole at water-level, in a large -cylindrical structure. Disbro swaggered inside, with his new friends. -A guard prodded Planter with his pistol-barrel to follow. As Planter -obeyed, he saw behind him another boat, in which rode Max with all the -baggage he had been carrying. Skygors sat with Max, plainly on good -terms. Max saw Planter, too, and his face twitched and scowled as in an -effort to rationalize.</p> - -<p>Inside, he found himself in a large bare room with dry, rough-cast -walls. Disbro waited there, with a Skygor whose elaborate chain-mail -suggested that he was an officer.</p> - -<p>"Disbro," boomed this individual cordially, "You say this is your -enemy? What shall be done to him?"</p> - -<p>"I leave that to you, Phra," answered Disbro, with the grand manner of -bestowing gifts. "You have your own ways of handling such problems. I -am content."</p> - -<p>Another Skygor approached, and the officer discussed the case in -deafening Skygor language. Then, facing Planter, he resumed English:</p> - -<p>"Your life is forfeit, but you look strong. Perhaps you can prove -yourself worth keeping. Join the slaves."</p> - -<p>He struck his webbed hands together. A human man ran in.</p> - -<p>Like Mara and the other crossbow-girls, this man was blond, but the -resemblance ended there. He wore loose, brief garments of elastic -fabric, no weapons, and his face was mild and servile. Phra pointed to -Planter.</p> - -<p>"Below with him! Put him to the spring mill!"</p> - -<p>The slave beckoned, and led Planter away, studying him curiously.</p> - -<p>Planter spoke at once: "You have many friends here, in slavery? Perhaps -I can get you out of this."</p> - -<p>"Out of this!" The echo was horrified. "To starve in the jungle? Marry, -sir, art mad or sick to say such a thing! Come, down these stairs."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Planter obeyed his new companion. They went down a dim, stone stairway, -lighted with green bulbs. From below came sounds of mechanical action.</p> - -<p>"What's your name?" Planter asked the slave.</p> - -<p>"Glanfil. And you?"</p> - -<p>"David Planter. How many slaves are there here? Human slaves?"</p> - -<p>"Two hundred, belike. Half as many as the Skygors."</p> - -<p>That was a new thought to Planter. On Earth, races were numbered in -the millions—here, by the scores. Of course, this might not be the -only Skygor city. Mara had mentioned the difficulty of exploring any -distance from this habitable pole. For a moment he felt the thirst -for knowledge. Wasn't this world as large as his own planet? Might it -not have continents, oceans, mountain ranges, whole genera of strange -species, perhaps other civilizations and climates? Then he remembered. -He was a slave. And a booming voice drove the memory home.</p> - -<p>"Below, men," thundered a Skygor guard. "You are not fed and lodged to -be idle."</p> - -<p>"Pardon," mumbled Glanfil, and quickened his descent. Planter followed, -beating down a rage of battle at the rough shouting of the guard.</p> - -<p>The under-water levels were not flooded, though the walls were gloomily -damp. Planter found himself in a great rambling chamber, bordered and -cumbered with machines, at which men toiled. Glanfil was presenting him -to a Skygor, who made notes with a crayon-like instrument on a board. -"New?" he questioned in his ear-dulling roar. "Whence came he? Never -stop to answer—show him how to work your machine."</p> - -<p>Glanfil led him to a cylindrical appliance against a wall. It had a -multitude of levers and push-buttons, and lights shone in its glassed -forefront. Most of these were green, but one turned red as they -approached. Glanfil pushed a button and turned a lever. The light -switched to green again.</p> - -<p>"The red means a faulty rhythm somewhere in the light system," -explained Glanfil. "Fix it by manipulating the buttons and levers near -the red lights—yes, so. It takes not skill, but wary watching."</p> - -<p>Planter took over. He found time to observe the rest of the -slave-teemed basement.</p> - -<p>Some operated a treadmill, others wound at keys or turned cranks. The -machines were strange but not mysterious. He judged that they pumped, -elevated, and modelled. Glanfil answered his questions:</p> - -<p>"'Tis the Skygor method. We supply power by our labors. Springs, -levers, such things, are worked."</p> - -<p>"Springs and levers?" repeated Planter. "Is this a clockwork town? Why -not fuel? Steam?"</p> - -<p>Glanfil shook his head. "We men make small fires, but the Skygors not. -Their nature is moist, they want such things not. As you say, clockwork -is the use of this place."</p> - -<p>"If you refuse to do this slave work, what then?"</p> - -<p>Glanfil shrugged, and shuddered. "If the sin is not too great, you go -to a level below this. Men drag upon a capstan, to wind the mightiest -of springs for town works."</p> - -<p>"Like rowing in a galley!" Planter summed up wrathfully. "But if the -sin is pretty sinful?"</p> - -<p>A Skygor overseer came close, saw that Planter had learned the simple -machine, and called Glanfil to some other task. Planter worked until -such time as a raucous voice bade another shift take over. Marshalled -with twenty or more slaves, he was led away to a musty vault, one side -of which was lined with cell-like sleeping quarters. Here was a brick -oven—perhaps those in the Nest were designed from it—over which two -sturdy women toiled at cookery. As the slaves entered, these women -quickly passed out stone plates and metal spoons. Into these were -poured generous portions of hot, appetizing stew.</p> - -<p>"They feed you well, these Skygors," commented Planter to Glanfil as -he finished his plateful.</p> - -<p>"'Tis their fashion. They seek to make us happy."</p> - -<p>Planter went to the kettles for another helping of stew, and ate more -slowly. "I'd rather eat in freedom," he commented, half to himself.</p> - -<p>"Freedom?" echoed Glanfil, as if scornful. "We hear of what freedom can -be. Scant commons, rough beds, danger and damp. Better to toil honestly -and fare well."</p> - -<p>"Aye," said a bigger slave, with a spade beard of reddish tinge. "Did -not the Skygors help our first fathers, stranger, as now they help you?"</p> - -<p>"I've heard otherwise," Planter rejoined. "It seems there was a -fight—the men were licked—the survivors made captive and put to work. -That's what happened to me."</p> - -<p>"Best be silent," murmured Glanfil, bending close. "That talk makes few -friends."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Planter changed the subject, asking various questions about Venus. His -companions eyed him strangely as he displayed his ignorance, but made -cheerful answer.</p> - -<p>The noise that had overwhelmed him was a vibrating metal instrument, -they said. Their description made it sound like an organ of sorts. As -he had surmised, it was always in some sort of operation, and could -be turned on full force if need be. The Skygors, with senses meant to -endure great noises, were not hurt by such a din, but human ears would -be tortured if not quickly closed. "Our labors give the instrument -power," informed Glanfil, rather proudly.</p> - -<p>Planter thought over his experiences of the day. "The Skygors have many -human devices," he ventured.</p> - -<p>"Aye, that," agreed the big bearded one. "In the first days, our -fathers brought many articles, which the Skygors developed and used."</p> - -<p>"There's what I'm driving at!" Planter broke in, forgetting Glanfil's -council to be cautious. "They not only enslaved you, they took your -ideas and improved themselves. I'll wager they were savages to begin -with! And you're actually grateful for the chance to crawl at their -big, webbed feet!"</p> - -<p>"This world belongs to the Skygors," spoke up one of the women as she -washed dishes. "Without them we would be shelterless and foodless, like -the weaklings they drove forth."</p> - -<p>Planter refrained to tell what he knew of the crossbow-girls. Plainly -he was up against an attitude of content from which it would be hard -to free his new companions—harder than to free them from guards and -prison walls.</p> - -<p>He slept that night in a hammock-like bed, and next day worked at the -machine. His toil was long, but not sapping, and food was good. Once -a Skygor came to take his clothing, shoes and possessions, giving him -a sleeveless shirt and shorts instead. Otherwise he was not bothered -by the masters of the city. For days—perhaps ten—he followed this -routine, masking his feeling of revolt.</p> - -<p>Then came a Skygor messenger to lead him away along under-water -corridors to someone who had sent. At the end of the journey he entered -an office. There sat the person he least expected to see.</p> - -<p>Disbro.</p> - -<p>"You rat," Planter began, but Disbro waved the insult aside.</p> - -<p>"Don't be a bigger ape than usual," he sniffed. "I've been able to do -you a favor."</p> - -<p>"You didn't do me much of a one when I was captured," reminded Planter.</p> - -<p>"How could I?" argued Disbro, in the charming fashion he could -sometimes achieve. "I was only on probation. If I'd tried to help you -then, we'd both be dead, instead of both on top of this Turkish Bath -world. Sit down." They took stools on opposite sides of a heavy, wooden -table. "Planter, how would you like to help me run Venus?"</p> - -<p>"You're going to get away from these Skygors?"</p> - -<p>Again Disbro waved the words away. "Why should I? I'll run them, too. -Look, we landed safely, didn't we? Observations on Earth will show -that, won't they?"</p> - -<p>"Right," agreed Planter, mystified. "There'll be more ships coming, to -look for us and maybe set up a colony."</p> - -<p>"That's it. We'll ambush those ships."</p> - -<p>"Ambush?" repeated Planter sharply. "Losing your mind, Disbro?"</p> - -<p>"No. I'm only thinking for all of us. Ships will come, I say. Loaded -with supplies, valuables all sorts of things. We can overwhelm them as -they land. Some of their crews will join us—the others can be rubbed -out. And the law can't touch us, Planter! Not for a minute!"</p> - -<p>"What are you driving at?" Planter demanded.</p> - -<p>"I'm the law," said Disbro, tapping his chest. "Just now I string -with the Skygors. Later I may knock 'em off. But anyway, I'm the -commander of the first expedition to land on Venus. I have a right to -take possession, in my own name." He got up, his voice rising clear -and proud. "Possession, like Columbus! Not of a continent—of a whole -world!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Planter, leaning forward on his stool, clutched the edge of the table -so strongly that his knuckles whitened.</p> - -<p>"And what," he asked slowly and quietly, "do you want me to do?"</p> - -<p>"I'm coming to that," said Disbro, smiling with superior craftiness. -"You're going to help me solidify these loud-mouthed Skygors."</p> - -<p>"They hold me for a slave," reminded Planter harshly, for he did not -like the life as well as Glanfil and the others who toiled among the -clockwork. But Disbro brushed the complaint aside.</p> - -<p>"That's because they don't know what I know. Your lady friends, I mean."</p> - -<p>Planter glanced up sharply. Disbro chuckled.</p> - -<p>"I talk a lot with these Skygors. Not bad fellows, if you muffle your -ears. Anyway, they tell me about a herd of wild girls that bushwacks -them constantly, and which they hope I'll find and destroy. Lately -some of those girls have been scouting around, yelling for something. -The Skygors haven't the best of English, and don't know what the words -mean. But I do. Those girls are calling your name. David Planter."</p> - -<p>Mara had come back for him, then. She braved the terrors of the Skygor -fortress, trying to get him back. Planter felt warmth around his heart. -He faced Disbro and shook his head.</p> - -<p>"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "You must be -getting drunk with your Skygor friends."</p> - -<p>"They don't have any kind of liquor, only some sort of sniff-powder I -wouldn't touch. And you're a cheerful liar, Planter. You know all about -those girls, and you're probably good friends with them. Don't be a -fool, I'm offering you a slice of my empire!"</p> - -<p>"Empire!" echoed Planter, honestly scornful. "You really think you'll -go through with this idea of grabbing Venus for yourself?"</p> - -<p>"I know all the angles. Back on Earth I was boss of quite an -organization."</p> - -<p>"And ended up in jail, buying your way out by gambling your life on -this voyage!" Planter rushed those words into speech, but made them -clear, biting and passionate. "You're a case for brain doctors, not -jail wardens. I don't know why I listen to you."</p> - -<p>"I know why," hurled back Disbro. "Because I'm already quite a pet -among these Skygors. I can kill you or save you. Meanwhile, we're -changing the subject. I want you to lead me to these wild girls, and -after we're solid with them, a bunch of Skygors will come—"</p> - -<p>"Nothing doing!"</p> - -<p>"In other words, you now admit that there is such a group! And you'll -take orders, Planter. I'm still chief of the expedition."</p> - -<p>Planter shook his head. "I can give you arguments on that. You've -betrayed the trust of the Foundation back home. That lets you out. You -don't have authority over me."</p> - -<p>He rose abruptly. "Send me back to the basement, Disbro."</p> - -<p>Disbro, too, jumped up. He held something in his hand. It was a gun, -not a Skygor curiosity but a Terrestrial-made automatic.</p> - -<p>"You don't get off that easy, Planter. I need you badly. And you need -your insides badly. Knuckle down, before I blow them out!"</p> - -<p>Planter smiled, broadly and rather sunnily. Suddenly he lifted a -toe. He kicked over the table against and upon Disbro. Down went the -elegant, lean figure, and a bullet sang over Planter's head as he dived -in to grapple and fight.</p> - -<p>Disbro, the lighter of the two, was wondrously agile. Almost before -he struck the concrete floor, he was wriggling clear of the table. -Planter's weight threw him flat again, but he struck savage, choppy -blows with the pistol he still held. Half-dazed, Planter could not get -a tight grip, and Disbro got away and up. Planter, shaking the mist -from his battered head, staggered after him, caught his weapon wrist -and wrung the gun away. It clanged down at their feet.</p> - -<p>"All right, Planter, if you want it that way," muttered Disbro -savagely, and took a long stride backward. He got time to fall on guard -like the accomplished boxer he was.</p> - -<p>Planter sprang after him. Disbro met him with a neat left jab, followed -it with a hook that bobbed Planter's head back, and easily slid away -from a powerful but clumsy return. When Planter faced him again, he -stood out of danger, smiling and lifting a little on his toes.</p> - -<p>"How do you like it?" he laughed. "Didn't know I was a fancy Dan, eh?"</p> - -<p>Planter charged again. Disbro slipped right and left tries at his jaw, -returned a smart peg to Planter's belly, and then let the bigger man -blunder past and fetch up against a wall. Planter was forced to lean -there a nauseous moment, and Disbro hooked him hard under the ear. A -moment later, Planter was crouching and backing away, sheltering his -bruised head with crossed arms. He heard Disbro laugh again. "This is -fun," pronounced Disbro. "I've been taught by professionals, Planter. -Good ones, not washouts like poor Max."</p> - -<p>Planter clinched at last, but Disbro's wiry body spun loose. The two -faced each other, and Planter felt some of his strength and wit come -back.</p> - -<p>He realized that he was being beaten. He must change tactics. He -remembered what he could of fist-science, and abruptly crouched. Again -he advanced, but not in a rush. Inch by inch he shuffled in, head sunk -between his shoulders, hands lifted to strike or defend.</p> - -<p>"You look like a turtle," mocked Disbro, and tried with a left. It -glanced off of Planter's forehead, and Planter sidled to his left, away -from Disbro's more dangerous right. Bobbing and weaving lower still, he -baffled more efforts to sting him. A moment later, Disbro was backing, -and Planter had him in a corner, close in.</p> - -<p>He struck, not for Disbro's adroit head, but for his body. His left -found the pit of the stomach, just within the apex of the shallow, -inverted V where ribs slope down from breastbone. Disbro grunted in -pain, and Planter put all his shoulders behind a short, heavy peg under -the heart. Again to the belly, twice—thrice—he felt Disbro sag. A -hook glanced from Planter's jowl, but it was weak and shaky. Disbro -managed to slip out of the corner, but Planter was now the stronger -and surer. Across the room he followed his enemy, playing ever for the -body—kidneys, abdomen, heart. Disbro was hanging on, his breath came -in choking grunts. Planter struggled loose, and sank one clean, hard -right uppercut.</p> - -<p>Disbro spun off of his feet, fell across the overturned table, and lay -moaning and gasping.</p> - -<p>"Had enough?" Planter challenged.</p> - -<p>Disbro was crawling on the floor, trying to grab the pistol. Planter -sprang in, stamped on Disbro's knuckles. Disbro had only the strength -and breath for one scream, and collapsed.</p> - -<p>Abruptly Skygors entered, Skygors with hard eyes and leveled weapons. -"What," demanded one, "is this?"</p> - -<p>Disbro, helped to his shaky feet, pointed to Planter. -"He—he—refused," he managed to wheeze out.</p> - -<p>Disbro nodded, and Planter felt a sudden rush of joy. They would drive -him forth, as they used to drive forth unprofitable female slaves. And -he would find the Nest again, and Mara.</p> - -<p>He was being herded along a passage, up stairs. The Skygors who guarded -him kept their weapons close against his ribs. "No escape," they -promised him balefully.</p> - -<p>He wondered at that, but only a little. Now they had brought him out -upon an open, railed bridge between two buildings. Below was water, -above the thick Venusian mist. "Jump," a Skygor bade him.</p> - -<p>"I need no second chance," Planter replied, breezily, and dived in.</p> - -<p>He still wore the scanty costume of a slave, and it allowed him to -strike out easily for the edge of the pool. Behind him the Skygors were -discussing him, but in their own guttural tongue which he could not -understand. As he swam, he studied the city beneath the water.</p> - -<p>He meant to come back and assail that city some time, and there must -be worthwhile secrets to note. For instance, he was now aware that -this pool was artificial—he made out the sluices and gates of a large -dam. To one side was a spacious submarine chamber that must be the -clockwork-jammed cellar where his erstwhile companions, the slaves, -worked.</p> - -<p>But something else was under water, something that moved darkly, -but had arms and legs, though it was as vast as an elephant. It was -approaching him swiftly, knowingly.</p> - -<p>Now he knew why he had been told, with such a voice of doom, to jump -into the water.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Planter's blood was still up because of that brisk battle with Disbro. -He was young, strong, in gilt-edge condition. His new impulse was to -keep on fighting, against the thing which had the size, the intention, -and apparently the appetite, to engulf him.</p> - -<p>The huge swimmer was a Skygor, of tremendous size. Logic in the back of -Planter's head bade him not to be amazed; on this damp, fecund world, -monsters of such sort were not too unthinkable. As it broke surface, -he heard a hubbub like many steam sirens. The smaller Skygors, on -housetops and bridges, were all chanting some sort of ear-bursting -litany, waving their flippers in unison. Plainly they worshiped this -giant of their race. He, Planter, was a gift—a sacrifice.</p> - -<p>He swam speedily, but his pursuer was speedier still. With ponderous -overhand strokes it overhauled him. An arm as long as his body, with a -flipper-hand like a tremendous scoop shovel, extended to clutch at him. -A mouth like an open trunk gaped, large enough to gulp him bodily.</p> - -<p>Only one thing to do. He did it—dived at once, turning under water -and darting below and in an opposite direction from the great swimmer. -By pure, happy chance, his kicking feet struck the soft cushion of its -mighty belly, and he heard the thrumming gasp of the wind he knocked -out of it. Coming up beyond, he swam desperately toward a nearby -building. If he could climb up, away, from this huge, hungry being.</p> - -<p>"No, not here!" That was a Skygor, poking its ugly smirking face from -a window-hole. He tried to seize the sill to draw himself out of the -water, and it lifted a dagger to slash at his knuckles.</p> - -<p>But then it gasped, wriggled. The paw opened, the knife fell. Planter -managed to catch it as it struck the water. A moment later he saw what -had happened—big human hands were fastened on the slimy throat from -behind. The Skygor, struggling, was pulled back out of sight. In its -place showed the flat, simple features of Max.</p> - -<p>"Huhh!" gurgled Max. "You in trouble, Mr. Planter?"</p> - -<p>He put out a hand to help. At the same moment a monstrous flipper -struck at Planter, driving him deep under water.</p> - -<p>He filled his lungs with air at the last moment, spun and tried to kick -away. His enemy had its hooked claws in his clothing and was drawing -him toward the dark cavern of its mouth. Planter struck with the knife -he had snatched, and buried the blade in the slimy-green lower lip of -the creature. It let go, and a cloud of blood—red as the blood of -Earth's creatures—suddenly obscured the water, so that Planter could -attempt another escape.</p> - -<p>He reached the top once again. The giant held itself half out of the -water, big and grotesque as some barbaric sculpture, one webbed hand -held against its wounded mouth. As Planter came into view, its big, -bitter eyes caught sight of him. Dropping its hand, it howled at him. -All the Skygors at their watch-points echoed that howl and began to -repeat their uncouth litany once again. The monster pursued as before.</p> - -<p>But from his watch-window, Max threw his burly pugilist's body.</p> - -<p>Coarsely built Max might have been. Stupid he undoubtedly was. Cowardly -and clumsy he was not. As he flung himself into space, he shifted so -that his feet were down. He drove them hard between the shoulders of -the huge Skygor demon, and the impact of his flying weight drove it -under water.</p> - -<p>"Get out of here!" yelled Max at Planter. "Get out!"</p> - -<p>He had time for no more, for he, too, submerged. Planter clasped his -knife in his teeth, and turned in the water. He could not desert that -plucky rescuer.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Righting itself, the big Skygor grimaced under the troubled, gory -surface. It was having trouble—more trouble than ever before in -its freakish, idle, overstuffed life as deity and champion of the -community. Two alien dwarfs, of a species it had looked on hitherto as -only enticing meat, were viciously attacking and wounding it. Hunger -was overlaid by a stern lust for vengeance.</p> - -<p>It spied one of the enemy very close, swimming away. Max was not as -much at home in the water as Planter, and he could not dodge its -grasping talons. Treading water, the thing hoisted him clear, as a -child might lift a kitten. Its other paw struck him, with openwebbed -palm, hard as a mule's kick.</p> - -<p>Max went limp. Once again that awful mouth opened to its full extent.</p> - -<p>"No, you don't!" cried Planter, battling his way close. For a -second time he drove with the knife, sheathing it to the hilt in a -slate-colored chest, close to one armpit.</p> - -<p>A fountain of blood sprang forth, drenching his face and weapon hand. -He dragged strongly downward, felt his weapon point grating on bone, -then coming free. That was a terrible wound, but not a disabling one. -In a frenzy of pain and rage, the Skygor giant threw Max far away into -the water, and whirled to look for its other tormentor.</p> - -<p>But Planter had dived yet again. The fresh blood obscured his passage -as before. He came up, panted for air, and seized the limp wrist of -Max. As he kicked away for shore, he heard the whine and <i>splat</i> of a -missile.</p> - -<p>The Skygors were shooting at him.</p> - -<p>He bobbed under, bringing Max with him. As he fought through the water, -he felt his friend quiver and beat with his hands. He felt fierce joy. -Max was alive, he too, would escape. He had to come up.</p> - -<p>"Duck down, Planter," Max told him at once. "They're going to give us -another volley."</p> - -<p>His voice was suddenly intelligent, his words sensible and articulate. -Planter took the advice, swam forward again.</p> - -<p>"Shore's that way," said Max, when they came up. "Can you make it? -Give me your hand."</p> - -<p>The ex-pugilist was climbing over a tangle of roots, to solid ground at -last. Planter made shift to follow him.</p> - -<p>"What—happened—" Planter barely whispered.</p> - -<p>Max laughed, very cheerfully. "What a wallop that sea-elephant has! I -guess it knocked my senses back into me. Another belt dizzied me back -on Earth. So it's logical that—"</p> - -<p>Yes, logical.... Max was no longer a dim, stupid child in a big man's -body.</p> - -<p>Planter felt himself weakening. He had fought himself out. Even as he -turned toward the jungle, he stumbled and fell, rolled over on his back.</p> - -<p>He could see the whole surface of the water-city. Skygors were coming -in throngs to recapture him, crowded aboard their inflated boats, -or swimming. For ahead of them, something like an awful goblin was -scrambling out—the mighty freak he and Max had dodged up to now. It -stood erect on powerful, awkward legs, its eyes probing here and there -to pick up the trail of its prey.</p> - -<p>Planter tried to tell Max to run, but his strength and breath were -spent. He could only lie and watch. Max had torn up a kind of sapling, -whirled it aloft like a club. The tottering colossus approached them, -heavily and grimly. It grinned relentlessly, its bloody muzzle opened -and slavered.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="650" height="488" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Out of the jungle moved another figure. A smaller Skygor? No—<i>Mara</i>!</p> - -<p>She sprang across the prostrate form of Planter. He managed to rise -to an elbow, just as she planted herself in the way of the oncoming -destruction. It loomed high above her, paws lifted to seize and crush -her. But she had lifted her crossbow.</p> - -<p>Pale fire flashed. The string hummed. At a scant five feet of distance -she slammed a pen-missile full into the thing's immense chest.</p> - -<p>It staggered back from her, its face gone into a terrible oversize -mask of awful pain. Those great legs, like dark, gnarled stumps, bowed -and bent. It fell uncouthly, supported itself on spread hands. Planter -could see the hole Mara had burned in it, a great red raw pit the size -of a bushel basket. Then it was down, motionless. Dead.</p> - -<p>Max had helped Planter up. "Can you run?" he was demanding.</p> - -<p>"No! No!" Mara interposed, hurrying back to them. "Not run! Fight!"</p> - -<p>"Fight?" Planter echoed, rather idiotically.</p> - -<p>"Fight the Skygors! See, your friends have come!"</p> - -<p>Through the jungle to the water's edge pressed other human figures, in -Terrestrial overalls and helmets.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A slim, square-faced man in the neatest of overall costumes had grabbed -Planter's elbow. It was beginning to rain again. Thunder sounded, like -Skygors grumbling high in the mist. "Quick!" said the square-faced man. -"You're Planter, aren't you? And that other man—but where's Disbro."</p> - -<p>Planter pointed toward the water-city. "Who are you?" he demanded, as -if they had all day.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Hommerson. Commanding this new expedition. Ten of us in the big -new ship started when they reported you landing safely. We cracked up, -not far from where your ship bogged down. This girl found us, said—"</p> - -<p>"Whatever she said was true!" cut in Planter. "Quick, defend yourself -against those Skygors."</p> - -<p>"They'll defend themselves against us," rejoined Dr. Hommerson bleakly. -"If they're smart, and if they're lucky."</p> - -<p>His companions had formed a sort of skirmish line among the thickest -stems at the water's edge. With a variety of weapons—force-rifles, -machine guns, one or two portable grenade throwers—they had opened on -the Skygors.</p> - -<p>The amphibian dwellers in the water-city had started to chase Planter -and Max, but the destruction of their giant kinsman had daunted and -immobilized them. Now they had something else to shake their courage, -which was never too great. Well-aimed shots were picking them off, in -the boats, in the water, on the housetops and bridges.</p> - -<p>"Don't show yourselves more than is necessary!" Dr. Hommerson was -barking. "If they know there's only a handful of us, they might—" He -unlimbered a patent pistol, one with a long barrel, a magazine of -fourteen rounds in the stock, and a wooden holster that could fit into -a slot and form a makeshift butt like that of a rifle. Lifting this to -his shoulder, he began to shoot at such of the Skygors as still showed -themselves.</p> - -<p>Mara had rushed to Planter's side. "They're retreating!" she cried. -"The spell—remember the <i>spell</i>!"</p> - -<p>True enough, he'd forgotten. That wild, unmanning storm of noise that -defended Skygor country, that had knocked him into their webbed fingers -as a captive and slave, might begin at any moment. Even now the Skygors -were retiring inside their buildings, but with a certain purposeful -orderliness. As Planter watched, Max ran up to his other side.</p> - -<p>"She's telling the truth. I know all about that thing they sound off," -he said breathlessly in his new, knowing voice. "When I was with -Disbro—working for him—I had a look at it."</p> - -<p>"Stop your ears," Mara was bidding. "Quick! A rag from your garment -will do!"</p> - -<p>She ripped away part of Planter's shirt, tore the piece in two, and -thrust wads into his ears with her forefinger. Max was plugging his own -ears. Then the sound began.</p> - -<p>When it began, nobody could say. Suddenly, it was there, filling space -with itself as though it were a crushing solid thing.</p> - -<p>Planter, even with his ears partially muffled, almost collapsed. His -body vibrated as before in every fiber, only not unendurably. He saw -Max reel, but stay on his feet. Dr. Hommerson's men, a moment ago -almost in the victor's position, were down, floundering in half-crazy -agony. Planter understood, in that rear compartment of his mind that -was always diagnosing strange things, even in the moment of worst -danger.</p> - -<p>The Skygors were ill-cultured, poor of spirit, prospered chiefly by -ideas stolen from the human beings they enslaved. But they understood -sound waves, could use them roughly as an electrician might use -electric vibrations. There were all the tales he had heard, of a chord -on the organ that shattered window panes, of certain orators who could -employ voice-frequencies to spellbind and impassion their audiences. -This was something like that, only more so.</p> - -<p>Then he saw that Mara, who had thought of saving his ears, was down at -his feet.</p> - -<p>"Mara!" he cried, though nobody could have heard him. He knelt, ripping -away more rags of his shirt. He crammed them furiously into her ears. -She stirred, got to her knees. She, too, could endure it now, and she -smiled at him, drawnly.</p> - -<p>"I knew you would come back," her lips formed words. "David Planter—my -David Planter—"</p> - -<p>Then she was up, crossbow at the ready.</p> - -<p>Because back came the Skygors, a wave of them in boats and as swimmers. -Sure of their victory through sound, they were going to mop up the -attackers.</p> - -<p>Max had a rifle. He lifted it, but on inspiration Planter leaped at -him and gestured for him to hold fire. From beside one of the fallen -Terrestrials he caught a grenade thrower. It was a simple amplification -of an ordinary rifle. Upon the muzzle fitted a metal device like a -bottomless bottle, the neck clamping tight to the barrel. Into the -spread body of the bottle could be slid a cylindrical grenade, the size -and shape of a condensed-milk tin. The grenade was pierced with a hole, -and the gun, if fired, would send its bullet through that hole, while -the gases of the exploding powder operated to hurl the grenade far and -forcefully and accurately.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Planter had never used one, but he had seen them used. A quick check -showed him that the rifle's magazine was full. From the belt of the -fallen man he twitched a grenade, slipped it into place. He knelt, -placed the rifle butt on the soggy mass of rotting vegetation that made -up the shoreside jungle floor. By guess, he slanted his weapon about -forty-five degrees forward. The foremost press of Skygors approached.</p> - -<p><i>Bang!</i> At Planter's trigger-touch, the grenade rose upward. For a -moment the three conscious watchers could see it, outlined against the -upper mists at the hesitating apex of its flight. Then it fell, too far -to demoralize the first ranks of Skygors, but smashing two inflated -boats in its explosion and tossing several slimy-green forms like -chips through the air. Planter slid in another grenade, worked the -rifle-bolt, and raised the weapon to his shoulder.</p> - -<p>It spoke again, louder even than the din of the noisemaker Mara called -the "spell." This time it struck water among the leading Skygors, and -exploded on contact. Three or four sank abruptly, several more thrashed -the water into pinky-red foam in the pain of bad wounds, the rest -wavered.</p> - -<p>Now Max opened fire with his rifle, and Mara with her crossbow. Both -scored hits, and the Skygors gave back. Something was going wrong, they -were realizing. The destroying sound was not paralyzing their enemy. -Meanwhile, it was best to take cover. Some ducked under the water, -others fell back toward the buildings.</p> - -<p>"Dynamite 'em!" cried Planter, forgetting that he could not be heard. -Stooping, he stripped away the whole beltful of grenades from its -helpless owner. He whirled it around his head as though he were -throwing a hammer on an athletic field, and sent it flying out over the -water. The shock of its fall into the depths set it off—all grenades -at once. Skygors came bounding to the top, twitching feebly. The -explosion had destroyed them, as fish are destroyed by the shock of -detonating dynamite in nearby waters.</p> - -<p>Then the paralyzing noise stopped.</p> - -<p>Hommerson was the first man up. He was dazed and groggy, but fight -was the first impulse that woke in him. Mara, Max and Planter dragged -others to their feet, shook and shouted their senses back into them.</p> - -<p>"They're retreating!" Planter yelled. "Let's counter-attack!"</p> - -<p>Close in to shore drifted one of the abandoned boats. Max had run into -the water, dragging it closer. The Terrestrials tumbled aboard, and one -of them got the paddle-wheel running. Planter, at the bow directing -fire at any Skygors who showed their heads, saw that Mara had not come -along. He worried a moment, then worried no more. She was shouting in -the jungle, and other voices—feminine voices—answered her. More of -the crossbow-girls were coming to help.</p> - -<p>The boat made a landing at the building where Planter had first -been dragged to slavery. It was not made for defense, and the -invaders split into small parties, ranging the corridors and outer -bridges. Planter, hurrying downstairs, heard the <i>spat</i> of the Skygor -pen-missiles, with the replying crackle of gunfire. After a while, Mara -and other girls began to shout and chatter. They had also found a boat -and had come over.</p> - -<p>On the floor, above the basement where the slaves worked, he came -face to face with a Skygor, who lifted his arms appealingly, in the -surrender gesture that must be universal among all creatures who have -arms. "I want no fight," begged this one. "You are master."</p> - -<p>"Then come downstairs," snapped Planter. He clattered down, among the -slaves. "Stop work!" he bawled, almost as loudly as a Skygor, and the -men, bred to obey big voices, did so.</p> - -<p>"Outside!" was Planter's next command. One or two moved to obey, others -hung back.</p> - -<p>"Outside," the surrendered Skygor echoed Planter, and they came -obediently. Planter hurried them to their quarters, then slammed the -door to the big workshop.</p> - -<p>"That closes down your power plants," he commented to the Skygor. "Now, -quick! Which way to the controls of the dam?"</p> - -<p>"Dam?" the Skygor repeated stupidly.</p> - -<p>Planter caught the green shoulders and shook the creature roughly. It -was larger than he, but cowered. "I will show," it yielded, and led -him away. In a nearby corridor were huge handles, three of them, like -pivoted clinker-bars. Planter seized one, pulled it down. He heard -waters roaring. He pulled another.</p> - -<p>"You will drain the pool," protested the Skygor.</p> - -<p>"I want to drain the pool," Planter said.</p> - -<p>"Then—" The Skygor caught the third lever and pulled it down.</p> - -<p>Planter hurried upstairs again. His prisoner kept at his heels.</p> - -<p>"Why did you help me?" he asked it.</p> - -<p>"Because you conquer," was the booming reply. "The conquered must obey."</p> - -<p>"I think you believe that stuff, like the slaves," Planter sniffed.</p> - -<p>"Of course, I believe," responded the Skygor.</p> - -<p>From the upper levels came Hommerson's voice:</p> - -<p>"Planter! These frog-folk are giving up! They haven't any fight left in -them!"</p> - -<p>But Planter paused, on a landing. He looked into a small office, where -two human figures stood close together.</p> - -<p>One was Max. The other was Disbro. Max had Disbro by the throat, not -shaking or wrestling him. Only squeezing.</p> - -<p>"Max!" called Planter. "Why—"</p> - -<p>"Why not?" countered Max plausibly. "Planter, I think maybe you were -the thick-headed one. You always tried to get along with Disbro, as -if he was honest. I was a crazy-house case, but from the first I knew -he was wrong. It took the return of sense to understand that the only -thing to do was this."</p> - -<p>He let go, and Disbro fell on the floor like an empty suit of clothes.</p> - -<p>Max brushed his hands together, as if to clear them of dust.</p> - -<p>"I wonder how long I've wanted to do that," he said. "Let's go up and -watch the final mop-up."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Out of the mud pool where once a snake-armed krau had pursued Planter, -the combined strength of many arms was hoisting the bogged ship. -Cables had been woven through pulley-blocks at the tops of the biggest -and strongest poolside stems. Free men of Venus, once slaves, hauled -on these cables in brief, concerted rhythms. Here and there in the -rope-gangs toiled a Skygor, accepting defeat and companionship with the -same mild grace. Women—free women—laughed and encouraged, and now -and again threw themselves into the tugging labor that was a game, Max -oversaw everything.</p> - -<p>Near by, machete had hewn a little clearing. Here a waterproof tent -over a beehive framework sheltered Planter and Dr. Hommerson. They -watched as the ship, its bow-rockets toiling to help the tugging -cables, finally stirred out of its bed.</p> - -<p>Hommerson smiled. "Time to hold a sort of recapitulation, isn't it? As -in old-fashioned mystery yarns, when the case is solved and the danger -done away with? Of course, it all happened suddenly, but we can say -this much:</p> - -<p>"The Skygor mistake was that of every softened master setup. They had -a half-rigged defense against mild dangers, and never looked for real -trouble. They beat that Seventeenth Century space-expedition simply -because Terrestrials of that day hadn't the proper weapons. Otherwise, -man might have been ruling here for four hundred years and more."</p> - -<p>"The Skygors did have one tremendous device," observed Planter. "That -super-siren that deadens you by sound waves."</p> - -<p>Hommerson laughed. "And which providentially did what all clockwork -mechanisms are apt to do—ran down. It's dismantled now, anyway. We're -a fuel-engine civilization, and the Skygors will have to wonder and -admire a while before they steal our new tricks."</p> - -<p>Planter fingered another trophy of the battle, a great brass-bound -log book, old and yellowed, but still readable. "This answers more -riddles," he put in. "The record of those ancient fugitives from -Cromwell. Who'd have thought that their times could produce a -successful flight from planet to planet?"</p> - -<p>"It was a great century," reminded Hommerson. "Don't forget that -they also invented the microscope, the balloon, the principle of -maneuverable armies. Their century began with Francis Bacon and ended -with Sir Isaac Newton. That rocket fuel, which the Skygors only half -understood and used for ammunition—"</p> - -<p>"Doctor!" broke in Planter. "Do you remember the old Puritan tales of -witches, flying on what seemed like broomsticks?"</p> - -<p>"And Cyrano de Bergerac, in France about 1640, writing a tale of a -rocket to the moon? We simply forgot that they had something then. The -real complete knowledge flew here to Venus, and waited for our age to -develop it again from the beginning."</p> - -<p>It was so. Planter pondered awhile, and while he pondered one of the -expedition came in to make a report.</p> - -<p>"We can send back three in this ship when it's set," he said to -Hommerson. "Who are you taking, sir?"</p> - -<p>"These two who survived the earlier flight, Planter and his big, tough -friend. The rest of you can wait and develop a landing field."</p> - -<p>Planter spoke: "Did you see the girl called Mara out there?"</p> - -<p>"She was watching us," said the man. "Finally she went into the jungle."</p> - -<p>"With no message for me?"</p> - -<p>"No message for anybody."</p> - -<p>"Dr. Hommerson," said Planter, "pick someone else instead of me. Here I -stay."</p> - -<p>Hommerson looked up sharply. "Until the next ship comes?"</p> - -<p>"Here I stay," repeated Planter. "From now on."</p> - -<p>He sought a certain jungle trail, one he had traversed before. "Mara!" -he called down it.</p> - -<p>She was not hard to catch up with, for she was not walking fast. As he -came alongside, she looked at him with eyes too bright to be dry.</p> - -<p>"You came to bid goodbye," she suggested.</p> - -<p>He shook his head. The mist seemed less than ever before on Venus. "No. -Never goodbye."</p> - -<p>"Isn't the ship leaving?"</p> - -<p>"Leaving, all right. But not with me in it. This is home now."</p> - -<p>She looked down at her sandalled feet, and one hand played with the -dagger in her belt. "Methought you would be glad to regain Earth."</p> - -<p>"Earth? Other people gained it long ago." He pulled her hand away from -the dagger-hilt. "Stop fiddling with that stabbing-iron, there's no -fighting to be done just now.</p> - -<p>"You said I was yours," he told her furiously. "You said it just as if -you'd won me in a game of some sort."</p> - -<p>"And you brushed it aside without answering me. You had none of it."</p> - -<p>"Hang it, Mara, a man decides those things! And I've been deciding -them. You're the bravest creature I ever knew—the most graceful—the -most honest. You did love me once. Have you stopped?"</p> - -<p>"I have not stopped," she said. "But why have you waited to say these -words?"</p> - -<p>"I haven't had time, and I'm going to have little time for a while, -what with organization and building and food-hunting and colonizing. -But—"</p> - -<p>Her mouth, close at hand, was too delectable. He kissed her fiercely. -She jumped away, startled, then uttered a little breathless laugh.</p> - -<p>"That likes me well," she told him. "Let us do it again."</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Venus Enslaved, by Manly Wade Wellman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VENUS ENSLAVED *** - -***** This file should be named 62137-h.htm or 62137-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/1/3/62137/ - -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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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: Venus Enslaved - -Author: Manly Wade Wellman - -Release Date: May 15, 2020 [EBook #62137] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VENUS ENSLAVED *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - Venus Enslaved - - By MANLY WADE WELLMAN - - What chance had the castaway Earthman and - his crossbow-weaponed Amazons against the - mighty Frogmasters of the Veiled Planet? - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Summer 1942. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Black velvet infinity all around, punctured and patterned with the -many-hued jewels of space--comforting, somehow, because they made the -same constellation patterns you used to see on Earth. There was the -Dipper, there Scorpio, there Orion. But the twinkle was shut off, as -though every star had turned cold and silently watchful toward your -impudent invasion of emptiness. - -So big was the universe that the little recess which did duty for -control-room, observation-point and living-cabin seemed even smaller -than it was; which was very small indeed. Planter forgot the dizzy -lightness of head and body, here beyond gravity, and turned his -wondering eyes outward from where he lay strapped in his spring-jointed -hammock, toward the firmament, and decided that there was nothing in -all his past life that he would change if he could. - -"Check blast-tempo," came the voice of Disbro just beyond his head, -a high, harsh, commanding voice. "Check lubrication-loss and check -sun-direction. Then brace yourself. We may land quicker than we -thought." - -Planter leaned toward the instrument panel that covered most of the -bulkhead to the right of his hammock. The pale glow from the dials -highlighted his face, young, bony, intent. "Blast-tempo adequate," he -called back to Disbro. "Lubrication-loss about seven point two. Three -point nine six degrees off sunward. Air loss nil." - -"Who asked for air loss?" snubbed Disbro from his hammock forward. -He was leaner than Planter, taller, older. Even in his insulated -coveralls, bulking against whatever temperature or pressure danger -might be threatened by the outer space, he was of a dangerous elegance -of figure and attitude. His face, framed in tight, cushioned helmet, -was so narrow that it seemed compressed sidewise--dark eyes crowded -together with only a disdainful blade of nose between them, a mouth -short but strong, a chin like the pointed toe of a stylish boot, a -cropped black mustache. Back on lost Earth, Disbro had frightened men -and fascinated women. His cunning crime-administration had been almost -too neat for the police, but not quite; or he would not have been here, -with his life barely held in his elegant fingertips. - -"Venus plumb center ahead," he told Planter. "Have a look." - -That last as if he were granting a favor. Planter twisted in the -hammock. He saw the taut-slung cocoon that would be Disbro's netted -body, the control board like a bigger, more complex typewriter where -Disbro could reach and strike key-combinations to steer, speed or -otherwise maneuver the ship. - -Beyond, a great round port, at its middle a disk the size of a -table-top. Against the black, airless sky, most of that disk looked -as blue as the thinnest of milk. One smooth edge was brightened to -cream--the sunward limb of Venus. But even the dimmer expanse showed -fluffy and gently rippling, a swaddling of opaque cloud. - -"That," said Disbro, "is our little gray home in the west." - -"I wonder what's underneath the clouds," mused Planter, for the -millionth time. - -"All those science-pots, sitting home on the seats of their expensive -striped pants, wonder that," snarled Disbro. "That's why they sent -eight rockets before us, smack into the cloud. That's why, with eight -silences out of a possible eight, they rigged this ninth. That's why, -when nobody was fool enough to volunteer, they dug up three convicts -who were all neatly earmarked to be killed anyway, and gave them a bang -at the job." - -Three convicts--Planter, Disbro, and Max. Planter had forgotten Max, as -everyone was apt to, including Max himself. For Max had been a sturdy -athlete, a coming heavyweight champion, until too many gaily-accepted -blows had done something to his mind. Doctors said some concussion -unbalanced him, but not far enough so that he didn't know right and -wrong apart when he killed his manager for cheating on certain gate -receipts. And so, prison and a sentence to the chair with the reprieve -that came by recommendation of the Rocket Foundation on March 30, 2082. -Now Max was in the compartment aft, keeping the levers kicking that ran -the rocket engines. Show Max how to do a thing and he'd keep right on -doing it until you pulled him away, or until he dropped. - -What would Max's last name be, wondered Planter. He studied the face of -Venus. He sang to himself, softly: - -"_Oh, thou sublime sweet evening star_...." - -Softly, but not too softly for Disbro's excellent ears. Disbro chuckled. - -"You know opera, Planter? Pretty fancy for an ex-con." - -"I know that piece," said Planter shortly. "Wolfram's hymn to Venus, -from _Tannhauser_." - - * * * * * - -It had started him thinking again. Gwen had played it so often on her -violin. Played it and sung it. Those were the days he hadn't known she -was married, down in her red-and-gold apartment in the Artists Quarter. -He'd been sculpting her--she'd had the second best figure he ever saw. -Then he found out about her husband, for the husband burst in upon -them. The husband had tried to kill Planter, but Planter had killed the -husband. And Gwen had sworn his life away. - -"Check elapsed time," Disbro bade him. - -"Fifty-eight days nine hours and fifty-four minutes point seven," -rejoined Planter at once. - -"Prompt, aren't you? We'll be on Venus before the sixty-fourth day." -Planter saw Disbro shift over in his hammock. "I'm going to shave. Then -eat." - -Disbro turned a stud in the wall. His electric razor began to hum. -Planter opened a locker-valve and brought forth his own rations--a -package of concentrated solid, compounded of chocolate, meat extract, -several vitamin agents. It would sustain him for hours, but was -anything but a fill to his hunger. He chewed it slowly to make it last -longer, and sipped from a snipe-nosed container of water, slightly -effervescent and acidulated. A few drops escaped between snout and lip, -and swam lazily in the gravityless air of the cabin, like shiny little -bubbles. - -"Planter," said Disbro, suddenly pleasant, "we're going to fool 'em." - -He shut off his razor. Planter took another nibble. "Yes, Disbro?" - -"We'll land at the north pole." - -Planter shook his head. "We can't. This rocket is set at mid-point on -the Venusian disk." - -"We can. I've tinkered with the controls. A break for us, no break for -the Foundationeers at home. They're watching us through telescopes. -What they want is our crash on Venus, with a great upflare of the -exploding fuel. Then they'll know that we landed, and can shake hands -all 'round on a 'successful advancement.' But we're curving away, then -in. I've fixed that. We'll not blow off and make any signal; but we'll -live." - -"North pole," mused Planter, pensively. - -"No spin to Venus up there. We'll land solidly. We'll land where it's -coolest, and none too cool. Her equator must be two degrees hotter than -Satan's reception hall. The pole may be endurable." - -"What then?" asked Planter. - -"We'll live, I say. Don't you want to live?" - -Planter hadn't thought about it lately. But suddenly he knew that he -did want to live. His was a family of considerable longevity. His -grandfather had attained the age of one hundred and seven, and had -claimed to remember the end of the Second World War. - -"Six days to study it over," Disbro was saying. "Then we'll have a try. -If we land alive, we'll laugh. If we die trying, we'll have nothing to -worry about. Float up here, will you? Take over. I'm going to have a -little sleep." - - * * * * * - -Through choking steam, white and ever-swirling, drove the silvery -cigar that was the ninth rocket ship to attempt to voyage across -space. From its snout blossomed sudden flame, blue and red and blue -again--rocket counter-blasts that were designed to act as brakes. They -worked, somewhat. The speed cut from bullet-rate to falling-rate. From -falling-rate to flying-rate. Then, of a sudden, partial clarity around -it. Within an upper envelope of blinding vapors, Venus had a thinner -atmosphere, partially transparent. Below showed a surface of fluffy -greens, all sorts of greens--lettuce, apple, olive, emerald, spinach, -sea greens. Vegetation, plainly, and lots of it. The ship, steadying in -its plunge like a skilled diver, nosed across toward a wet, slate-dark -patch that must be open ground. From the stern, where rocket tubes had -ceased blazing, broke out a massive expanse of fabric--a parachute. -Another and another. Down floated the craft, thudding, at last, upon -its resting place. - -Planter felt a cramping pain. He realized that to feel pain one must -be alive. Then his head throbbed--it hung head downward. Gravity was -back. He groped for his hammock fastenings, loosened them, and lowered -himself to a standing position beneath, on the round port that had been -forward. Disbro hung in his hammock, motionless but moaning faintly. - -Planter hurriedly freed him and laid him flat on his back. He fumbled a -locker open, brought out a water-pot. A little spurt between Disbro's -short, scornful lips brought him back to consciousness. - -"We made it," was Disbro's first comment, full of triumph and savagery. -"Help me up. Thanks. Whoooh! We seem to have socked in somewhere, nose -first." - -He was right. No sign of light or open air showed through the forward -port, nor the side ports from which Planter had been wont to study -the reaches of space. Disbro looked up. The after bulkhead, now their -ceiling, had a hatchway. "Hoist me," he said to Planter, who made a -stirrup of his hands and obliged. The slightly lesser gravitational -pull of Venus made Disbro more active than on Earth. He caught -Planter's hammock, got his foot on a side-bracket for steadiness, and -climbed up to the hatch. A tug at the clamps opened it, and he wriggled -through. - -"Wake up, you big buffalo," Planter heard him snarling. Max was -evidently unconscious up there. Planter, without a helper to lift him, -made shift by climbing Disbro's hammock, then his own, to gain the -compartment above. - -"He'd have died if he had an ounce of brains," commented Disbro, -pointing. Max lay crumpled against the bulkhead, close to the great -bank of levers he had been working. In his hands were grasped broken -pieces of network from his hammock. - -"He was out of the lashings when we landed," Disbro went on. "We were -about to hit, and he grabbed hold. Must have passed out. But the big -lump's single-minded--abnormally so. He hung on without knowing, and -the breaking of those strands kept him from crashing full force." - -Planter knelt and pulled Max straight. Max was tremendous, a burly -troll in his coveralls. His shoulders were almost a yard wide, his -hands like oversize gloves. His big face, with its broad jaw, heavy -dark brows and ruddy cheeks, might have been handsome, was not the nose -smashed in by a blow taken in some old ring battle. - -"Don't waste water," cautioned Disbro as Planter hunted for the -food-locker. "I'll bring him out of it." He knelt and slapped the -inert face sharply. - -Max's mouth opened, showing a gap where his front teeth had been -beaten out. He gave a grumbling yell, then sprang erect so suddenly -that Disbro, starting away, almost fell through the hatchway. Max saw -Planter, scowled and snorted, then fell into a boxing stance. He inched -forward, his mighty fists fiddling hypnotically. - -"Time!" yelled Planter at once. "This isn't a fight, Max! We've -landed--safe and alive--on Venus!" - -Max's eyes widened a little. He grinned loosely, and pulled off his -helmet. His skull was thatched with bushy, black hair. "Uhh," he said, -in a deep, chiding tone. "I forgot. Uhhh." - -"Forgot!" echoed Disbro scornfully. "He sounds as if he had the ability -to remember." - -Planter studied the ports in this compartment. They, too, were obscured -by wet-looking grail soil. The ship must be well buried in the crust of -Venus. What if it was completely submerged, a tomb for them? He glanced -upward to another hatchway, one that would lead past the rocket engines. - -"Don't go up," Max cautioned him throatily. "Hot up there." - -"Brilliant," was Disbro's ill-humored rejoinder. "Max actually knows -that the engines will be hot." - -Planter clapped Max on the big shoulder. "It'll be all right," he -reassured the giant. "Get me a wrench, will you? That long-shanked one -for tightening tube-housings will do." - - * * * * * - -He scrambled up along the levers, which made a ladder of sorts. The -hatch to the engines had to be loosened with the wrench. Beyond, as -Max had sagely warned him, it was stiflingly hot. He avoided gleaming, -sweltering tubes and housings, scrambling to where a four-foot circle -of nuts showed in the bulkheading. This would be the plate that closed -the central stern, among the rear rocket-jets. He began to loosen one. - -"Stop that, you fool!" It was Disbro, who had climbed after him and was -watching. "Who knows about this lower atmosphere of Venus?" - -"I'm going to find out about it," replied Planter, a little roughly, -for he did not like Disbro's manner. He gave the nut another turn. - -"Wait, wait," cautioned Disbro. He climbed all the way into view, -holding up a glass flask with a neck attachment of gauges and pipings. -"I got a sample, through the lock-panel--plenty of air-bubbles were -carried down with us. Let me work it out before you do anything heroic." - -Disbro was right. He was usually right, about technologies. Planter -mopped his brow on the sleeve of his coverall, and waited. - -"Yes," Disbro was commenting. "Oxygen--nice article of that, and -plenty. Nitrogen, too. Just like Earth. Quite a bit of carbon dioxide. -It'll be from all that vegetation. Certified breathable. Go on and -unship that plate." - -Planter did so. He loosed the last net, and pushed against the plate. -It stirred easily--the after part of the ship would still be in the -open. Disbro, climbing after him, caught his elbow. - -"I go out first," he announced. "They marked me down as senior of the -expedition. One side." - -Planter stared quizzically, and once again did as Disbro told him. The -lean man thrust up the plate like a trapdoor, and crept out. - -"At last!" he yelled back. "Men on Venus! Come on, Planter!" - -Planter called back to Max, who was bringing up a bundle of articles -Disbro had chosen for the venture outside--two repeating rifles, two -pistols, several tools, and tins of food, coils of rope. Planter helped -him with the load, and they got outside with it. - -Disbro had slid down the step bulge of the hull. He clung to a -grab-iron, his feet just above the gray muck into which they had -plunged. He stared up. - -"First man to set foot on Venus," he was saying. "Who was second of you -two?" - -"We didn't stop to bother," Planter replied. "What now?" - -He stared around, to answer his own question. Venus was dull, like -a very cloudy day at home. The air was moist, but fresh, and little -wreaths and veils of mist kept one from seeing far. But he made out -that they had found lodgment in a sterile-looking clearing with a muddy -floor that might or might not sustain a man's weight. All around was a -crowded wall of vegetation--towering high above the range of his vision -into upper fog, tight grown as a hedge, and vigorously fat of twig and -leaf. Planter, no botanist, yet was aware at once of strangeness beyond -his power to describe. He knew that specimens should be gathered and -preserved to take home. - -To take home? Home to Earth? But the ship was almost buried in this -mud. He remembered Disbro's dry comment--"Our little gray home in the -west." They were on Venus. Undoubtedly to stay. - -Max, beside him, gave a sort of gurgling bellow of surprise and fear. - -"Uhhh! Something's got Mr. Disbro!" - - * * * * * - -For once, Max was being articulate. For once, Disbro was being silent. - -Glancing down, Planter saw the slender, elegant figure writhed close -against the metal hull, clutching with both hands the grab-iron. Disbro -stared groundwards, and what could be seen of his face was as white as -a wood-boring grub. One of his legs was drawn up, knee bracing upon the -plates, the other stretched out grotesquely, as if to point a toe at -something in the muck. - -It took a second staring study to realize that a whiplike strand of -something that gleamed and tightened was snapped around Disbro's ankle. - -"Rope, Max," snapped Planter. He made a quick hitch around a -rocket-tube, and lowered himself in a rush. His free hand grasped a -heavy automatic pistol. He paused in his descent just above Disbro, -studying the black, shiny tether. - -It protruded from the semi-glutinous mud, which stirred and quivered -around the protrusion. A sense was there of rigid grasp and slowly -contracting pressure. It was squeezing the captured ankle, it was -shortening itself to pull Disbro down. Disbro said nothing because he -had caught his breath for an effort at wrenching free. But he could not -do that. His strong, lean fingers were beginning to slip on the grab -iron. He turned horror-widened eyes toward Planter. - -"Hang on," muttered Planter, and aimed his pistol. No sure shot, he -nevertheless was close to his target. He fired a .50 caliber slug, -another and another. Two of them hit the tail, tentacle or proboscis. - -At once it let go of Disbro, gesticulating wildly. Blood sprang forth -on its shiny integument--Venusian blood was red, mused Planter, even -as Venusian herbage was green. Disbro gave a choking gurgle that might -have been thanks, relief or effort. A moment later he was swarming up -Planter's rope like a monkey. - -But Planter did not follow. The appendage he had wounded was drawing -out of sight, like a worm into its hole; but two more just like it had -fastened upon his foot and knee. - -He lost his grip and fell into the mud. It was like a dip into thick -gravy. The stuff lapped and closed over his head, and he let go of the -pistol to try to swim. A couple of laborious strokes brought him back -to the surface, gasping and blowing away thick lumps from nose and -mouth. A moment later two more tentacles were groping and seizing at -his shoulder and waist. Four bonds now tightened upon him, like lariats. - -Planter seemed to be thinking in two compartments. One set of thoughts -dictated his floundering, desperate struggle. The other considered the -situation with a curiosity dispassionate and almost mild. The creature -that snared him was just what he might have expected--something on the -octopus order. How many science fiction stories had dealt with such -monsters on strange worlds? The creepy writhings of tentacles appealed -to fantasy writers--the neat, simple, active structure of the brute was -logical to the great mechanic who devised Nature. The thing had him, in -any case, if he could not kick or struggle or cut free. - -_Cut free!_ That was it. He had a knife, in the side pocket of his -coveralls. - -He dug for it, almost dropped it from his muddy fingers, then yanked -open the biggest blade. He slashed at the nearest tentacle, the one -around his waist. It parted like a cane-stalk before a machete. The -other arms quivered and slackened, plainly shocked by pain. Planter -rolled out of their grip, started to swim away anywhere. - -He looked over his shoulder and saw his enemy as it humped itself -partially into view. - -Not such an octopus, after all. - -The dispassionate part of Planter's brain called the thing an animated -tall tree. The slender tentacles sprouted from a thicker trunk, -that could curve and writhe and wallow, but not so readily. It was -of a rubbery gray-brown, and at the upper end, nested among the -tentacle-roots, was what must be its mouth. That mouth opened and shut -in almost wistful hunger. Planter swam furiously. He wanted to reach -and climb the stern of the rocket ship, but the thing knew his wish, -and moved to head him off. He kicked and fought his way toward the far -mass of leaves that bordered this mud-pit. - -From among those leaves glowed for an instant a sort of splinter of -yellow light. A small object sang over Planter's helmeted head like a -bee, and struck behind him with a little _chock_. It must have found -lodgment against the hall-tree thing, which paused in its pursuit -to flop and spatter the mud with its tentacles. Planter blessed the -diversion, whatever it was, and strove nearer to the shore. - -The forest was alive, he suddenly decided. Out of its misty tangle -a great leafy branch swung knowingly toward him. He clutched at it, -brought away a fat, moist handful of strange-shaped leaves. His other -hand made good its hold on the branch itself, and with the last of his -strength he dragged himself to where roots hummocked above the mud. - -Then he saw where the branch had come from. A slim, active figure stood -among the stems, pressing with both hands upon the base of the branch -to make it move into the open. As Planter scrambled to safety, the -figure relaxed its helpful shoving, and the branch moved back toward -the perpendicular. - -Planter gazed in utter lost unbelief at this stranger. - -It was a woman, young, fair, fine-limbed. She wore the briefest of -garments, belted around with strange weapons, and her feet were shod in -cross-gartered buskins. Upon her tumble of golden curls rode a metal -helmet that reminded him of Grecian antiquity. Her bare arms, round -but strong, cradled something with a stock and butt of a musket, but -with a short, tight-strung bow at its muzzle--surely the pattern of a -medieval crossbow. - -Her face was of a flawless pink-and-white beauty, just now stamped with -utter disdain. Its short, rosy mouth opened, and formed words. - -Words that Planter understood! - -"You fool," said the girl with the crossbow. "You scurvy fool." - - * * * * * - -Disbro, barely able to stir for shock and weariness, climbed only a -few hand's breadths out of danger before he must stop and wheeze for -breath. At last he could make himself heard: - -"Max! You pighead, help me!" - -"Uhh," came the grunt of assent from above, as the big fellow slid -down in turn. He slipped a thick arm around Disbro, hoisting the tall, -slender body as if it were a bundle of old clothes, and slid it across -a shoulder like the jut of a crag. Then Max scaled the rope once again, -to the safe top of the nosed-over rocket ship. - -Disbro found his own feet, and shakily wiped his clear-cut face, still -pale from exertion and terror. "That was close." - -"Say," ventured Max, "Mr. Planter, he's gone." - -Disbro looked around. The mud expanse around them was stirred up as if -by boiling struggles, but there was no sign of Planter or the thing -with the tentacles. - -"That thing got him," decided Disbro, but Max shook his heavy head. - -"Huh-uh," he demurred. "No. The girl, she got him." - -"Girl?" echoed Disbro, and scowled. - -"What girl?" - -Max pointed with a finger like the haft of a hammer. "She was in the -trees. Got him." - -Disbro peered at the trees, then at Max. His scowl deepened. "What are -you drivelling about?" - -"The girl," said Max. - -Disbro snorted and skinned his teeth in scorn. - -"How," he demanded of the misty skies, "do I get mixed up with minus -quantities like this? A girl, the man says! Here on Venus!" - -"A girl," repeated Max firmly. - -Disbro wheeled upon him. - -"Come off of that!" he commanded sharply. "Planter's gone. Dead. You're -all I have to associate with. You'll act sane, whether you are or not." - -Max's big, pained eyes faltered before the glittering accusation of -Disbro's gaze. "All right," he conceded. - -"There wasn't any girl there, you idiot!" - -Max nodded. "I saw--" - -"Shut up!" Disbro cut him off. "No girl, I said!" - -"No girl," repeated Max obediently. - -Rain began to fall, fat drops the size of marbles. - -"Back inside," commanded Disbro. "There'll be lots of this kind of -weather. We'll have something to eat, then study another way to reach -the trees yonder." - -"No girl," said Max. "But I saw." - - * * * * * - -The rain that drove Disbro and Max back into their shelter filtered -through layers of leafage, beginning to wash the mud from Planter's -clothing. He stared again at his rescuer. - -"I seem to have understood what you said," he managed at last. - -"Isn't so strange, that?" she flung back, in words somehow run -together. "E'en though you're mad enow to sport with yonder muck-worm," -and her wide, bright blue eyes flicked toward the danger he had lately -avoided, "you'll have the tongue of mankind. Art no man?" - -"Man enough, young woman," rejoined Planter, a little nettled. "I -suppose it's like the fantasies--we can read each other's minds, or -something." - -"Something," she echoed, as if humoring a child. - -"And I owe you thanks for saving my life." - -"Oh, 'twas no great matter." She shouldered the crossbow. "Come, for -the Skygors will be about our heels." - -She picked her way rapidly among the steam, with the surest and -cleverest of feet. Women on Earth were never so graceful or sure, -decided Planter, hurrying after. He was aware that he did not step -on the muddy surface of Venus, but upon a matted over-floor, of -roots, fallen stems, ground-vines, sometimes great sturdy leaves like -lily-pads grown to the size of double mattresses. "Wait, young lady," -he called, "who are the Skygors, you mentioned and why should they be -after us?" - -She halted again, swung and studied him with more of that disdainful -curiosity. "'Tis a gruel-brained idiot," she decided, as if to herself. -"For that they cast him out. Methought 'twas strange that a man should -flee, of himself, from sure shelter and victual." - -It was raining harder. The great roof of vegetation only partially -broke that downpour. It sluiced away the coating of mud from Planter, -and soaked his stout garments through. He felt miserable in the -dampness, but his girl guide throve, if anything, in the drops that -struck and rolled down her bare arms and shoulders. - -He saw, too, that she followed something of a trail among the stalks -and stems. It was barely wider than his own stalwart shoulders could -pass, and wound crazily here and there; but one must stick to it, for -to right and left the jungle grew thicker than a basket. He called out -again. - -"Miss! Young lady!" - -She turned, as before. "What now?" - -"This path--what is it? Did you make it? Tell me things." He made a -gesture of appeal, for she was putting on that look of contempt once -more. "You see, I'm no more than an hour old on this planet--" - -"Od so! Your brain is younger than that. Leave me, I have no time for -idiots." - -Abruptly she stiffened, widened her eyes, lifted a finger to her red -lips for silence. The two of them stood close together in the misty -rain, their ears sharpened. Planter heard what she had heard--a -rustling, crunching approach, along some other angle of the jungle path. - -The girl wrenched apart two sappy lengths of vine, and with a jerk -of her head bade Planter slip through into the great thicket. He did -so, and she followed. Turning, her lithe body close against his, she -brought her crossbow to the ready. - -"Danger?" whispered Planter, and she nodded bleakly. - -The approach was coming near. Planter judged that whatever threatened -them was two-legged, weighty, and great-lunged--many yards off, it -wheezed like a faulty engine. His companion's ears were better than -his, or more experienced. She gauged the nearness of the stranger, and -the crossbow went to her shoulder like a rifle. Planter saw that it -operated on a spring trigger that would trip a latch and release the -string. The bow, violently recovering from its bending, would force the -missile along a groove in the top of the stock. All parts--stock, bow, -and string--were of some massive dark metal, apparently treated with -grease to save it from the constant dampness. The missile itself was -not an arrow, but seemed the size and shape of a silvery fountain pen. -Planter burned to ask questions about it; but the enemy was in sight by -now, something of mottled green and black that shouldered upright along -the way between the thickets. - -Planter felt his companion's body grow tense against his shoulder. Her -finger touched the trigger lightly. The metal string twanged, and with -a waspy hum the missile leaped toward its target. At the same time, a -little burst of flame showed from it, bright yellow. _Chock!_ the shot -went home, as that other shot against the thing called a muck-worm. - -Down floundered the green-spotted form. At once the girl was out of -hiding, and stooping above her quarry. - -Planter, following, peered with wonder and caution. He saw a body -larger than himself, and grotesquely of the same build. A dumpy torso -on massive back-bent legs like a cricket's; wide flapper feet, a -round, low head with a monstrous slash of mouth, big eyes now filming -with death, no nose at all--the creature was very like a nightmare -frog. But this frog wore garments, of linked and plaited metal wire -and rubbery-looking fabric. It had a silver belt, with pouches and -holsters. These pouches and holsters the girl was now plundering. - -"Quick," she snapped at Planter over her rosy shoulder. "Take the -spoil. He will have friends, and they must not find us." - - * * * * * - -Her tone was still reminiscent of Disbro speaking to Max. Planter's -ravenous curiosity was at last completely overridden. "Young lady," he -said flatly. "I'm not prepared to endure any more--" - -She suddenly screamed, not like a warrior but like any girl who is -mortally frightened. - -Planter had the time to realize that she saw something just beyond him. -He pivoted and set himself as another of the froggy beings charged. - -"More Skygors!" he heard a cry behind him, and he knew that it was -Skygors he faced. - -Planter was a boxer of sorts, strong if not brilliant, and his -unthinking reflex was to plant his feet, bend his knees, and crouch -for attack or defense. That reflex shortened his height by several -inches, and saved his life. The Skygors that rushed him had pointed a -pistol-form weapon, from which came yellow flame as from the crossbow. -A silvery object meant to scatter his brains only sang above his head -with millimeters to spare. Before the pistol-like weapon could aim and -spit again, Planter had charged in. - -It was all he could do, but it was enough. He jabbed viciously with his -left fist, followed with his right to the abdomen. The left knuckles -slashed soft flesh about the wide mouth, his right hand almost broke -on a hard belt-buckle. Both blows were staggering to the wheezing -adversary, who dropped its pistol and yelled with a voice like a steam -whistle. It made words, each of them almost deafening to Planter. To -silence it more than anything else, Planter drove in closer still and -lifted an uppercut as though it were a shovelful of gravel. - -It found the point where a Terrestrial man would have a chin. Down -floundered the clumsy body, and Planter, with no thought of referees -or rules, set his heavy boot on the face and bashed it in. He stepped -across the subsiding form, in time to encounter another. - -This one got great flappy hands upon him. Their grip was knowing, -powerful, wicked. The Skygor plucked him close, its mouth grinned into -a gape. It had teeth, it was going to bite. - -He was held by the shoulders, and doubted if he could break away. -Instead of trying, he put his own hands to the thing's elbows, drew -his right knee tight to his chest and planted a toe in a metal-clad -midriff. Then, even as the open paw sought to seize his face, he threw -himself backward. Landing flat on his shoulder blades, he drew down -with his hands and hoisted with his feet. - -His opponent somersaulted in air, and fell with a heavy squashing thump -upon the root-tangled floor of the trail. In a flash, Planter was up. -He jumped with both feet. Bones broke under the impact. A second -Skygor was down--dead or dying-- - -"Aside!" the girl was calling, and he obeyed, flattening against a -cross-weaving of vine stems. She was risen upon one knee, crossbow to -shoulder. It twanged, flashed, and once again its successful charge -sounded its _chock_. Planter glanced down the trail in time to see a -fourth and last Skygor drop down. - -He found that he was gasping for air, and trembling as though the -danger were still to come instead of past. The girl rose, came to him, -and touched his arm. She smiled, her eyes shone. Gone was the contempt, -the superiority. She only admired, completely and frankly. - -"Sink me, you're a fighter," she said. "Ecod! I saw only the flight of -fists, and a Skygor went down, and another! You saved my life--and we -have four Skygors to strip, with none to boom about where we went from -here. Your name, friend?" - -"Planter," he said. "David Planter." - -"David Planter," she repeated. Her "A" was very broad, so that she made -the name almost "Dyvid." Again she smiled. "A king's name, is't not? I -am called Mara. Come, help me take what is valuable from this carrion." - -Planter's heart warmed to her. "Thanks for your kind words," he smiled -back. "But I did what any man would do." - -"All men are slaves," she surprised him by saying. "You will amaze the -other girl-warriors, when I bring you to the Nest." - - * * * * * - -Disbro, standing on the glass port-pane that was now floor for the -control-room, labored and cursed at his keyboard. He pressed one, two, -an octave. The nosed-over ship stirred, but did not rise. - -"Max!" bawled Disbro to the upper hatch. "Pressure!" - -"Giving you all there is," Max informed him timidly. - -Disbro turned from his controls, shrugging in disgust. - -"Those bow-tubes are jammed or displaced," he cursed. "We can't clear -off till we get her up and clean them--and we can't get her up and -clean them until they work. Huhh!" - -Max's big, diffident face framed itself in the hatchway, registering a -small hope. - -"We're floating," he volunteered. "Close to those trees and things." - -Disbro showed interest. "Then we'll get our feet on solid ground, -or nearly solid. That tentacle-thing won't be sloshing around." He -beckoned. "Come down." - -Max obeyed. From a locker Disbro took a pressure squirt of -waterproofing liquid. He sprayed Max's clothes, then his own. "That'll -shed rain," he said. "Buckle on a pistol, if you're smart enough to use -one. And give me two." - -Once more the hammocks in the lower chamber, and the levers in the -higher, gave them a ladder-way up. Disbro, emerging first into the -damp, warm mist, saw at once that they had visitors. - -The ship, as Max said, floated close to the mat of growth that fringed -the muddy pool. Here the jungle consisted of meaty stems, straight, -thick and close-set, with tangled fermiform foliage. A little above -mud-level, gnarled roots wove into a firm footing, and upon it, -pressing from the thickets toward the ship, were huge biped creatures -in gleaming metal harness. - -These had chopped down spongy trunks and branches, on which to venture -over the mud-surface as on rafts. Coming near the ship, they had -passed cables of grease-clotted metal wire around it, mooring it fast -to thicker trunks. As Disbro stared down, several of them began to -converse in tones that rang and boomed like great gongs. Half-deafened, -Disbro still could perceive that their voices had inflection and sense. -Harness, concerted action, tools, a language--here was a master race, -comparable to Terrestrial humanity. - -One of them turned a bulging black eye upward, and saw Disbro. Its flat -face split across, and a mouth like an open Gladstone bag shouted its -discovery. One green paw, webbed but prehensile, snatched a weapon from -a metal-linked waist belt, and aimed it at the Terrestrial. - -But Disbro, too, was quick on the draw. His gang-rule on Earth had -necessitated shooting skill as well as leadership. His own automatic -sprang into his hand. "No, you don't!" he snapped, and shot the weapon -out of the Venusian's flipper. - -It screamed in a voice that vibrated the steamy air, and its companions -started and shrank back in startled wonder. Disbro drew a second -pistol, leveling it at them. - -"I'll shoot the first one that moves," he promised, as if they could -understand; and understand they did. Up went shaky flipper-hands. - -"No! No!" they boomed in thunderous humility. "Don't! Don't!" - -He had not the time to wonder that they spoke words he knew. He swung -his weapons in swift arcs, covering them all. Max, behind, had sense -enough to level the long barrel of a repeating rifle. "Please!" roared -a Venusian who seemed to be a leader. "We do naught to you!" - -"Better not," cautioned Disbro loftily. "We're more profitable as -friends than as enemies." - -"Friends!" agreed the leader. "Friends!" - -"If you try any funny business--" went on Disbro. "Well, watch!" - -He snapped his right-hand gun up and fired. The bullet snipped away a -leaf the size of an opened umbrella. As the great green blob drifted -down, Disbro fired again and again, until, ripped to rags, the leaf -fell limply among the Venusians. They moaned, like awe-struck fog horns. - -"Understand?" taunted Disbro. "Savvy? I could kill you all as easy as -look at you." - -"Friends!" promised the leader again. - -"Max," muttered Disbro, "these birds quit very easily without a fight. -But keep me covered from up here." - -Planter's rope still dangled along the hull. Disbro slid down, coming -to his feet on the raft-heap below. The Venusians gave back in wary -confusion. Disbro allowed himself to smile upward. - -"See what an ape you are, Max?" he chuckled. "You got a look at one of -these, and thought it was a girl! You're not much of a picker, Max." - -To the Venusian chief he said: "I think I'll muscle in on your -territory." - - * * * * * - -Mara, the crossbow-girl, brought Planter to the place she called the -Nest. - -It was hollowed out in the thickest part of the towering jungle, as a -rabbit's form is hollowed among tall grasses. The floor was of plaited -and pressed withes, supported on stumps and roots of many tall growths. -Rounding upward and outward from this were walls, also of wooden poles -and twigs, woven into the growing tangle. The roof was similarly made, -but strengthened and waterproofed with earth, dried and baked by some -sort of intense heat. - -The space thus blocked off was shaped like the rough inside of a hollow -pumpkin, and in size was comparable to the auditorium of a large -theater. Within it were set up smaller huts and bowers. There were -common cooking-fires, in ovens of stone and mud-brick, and a great -common light suspended from the ceiling by a long heavy chain. This was -a metal lamp, fed by oily sap from some sort of tree. - -Finding the Nest was difficult. Mara had picked a careful way through -mazes of thick vegetation, paying special attention to the rearranging -of leaves and branches behind them. Sagely she explained that the -Skygors, when hunting her kind, were thus completely lost. Even at the -very doorstep of the Nest, the tangled vines, branches and leaf-sprays -obscured any hint of such a place at hand. - -The dwellers in the Nest were all women. - -They came cautiously forward, twenty or so, as Mara ushered Planter -inside. They were active specimens, dressed scantily and attractively, -like Mara. Most of them were young, several comely. All were fair of -skin and hair, a logical condition in the cloudy air of Venus. They -wore daggers, hatchets, ammunition pouches. Even at home, they all -carried crossbows. - -"What does this man here?" demanded a lean, harsh-faced woman of middle -age. "Is he not content with servitude?" - -Mara shook her head. "He's like none we know. He fights more fiercely -than we--Ecod, shouldst have seen him! Bare-handed, he o'ercame two -Skygors. I slew two more. Look at our trove!" - -She opened a parcel of great leaves, and showed dozens of the silver -pens that were ammunition for both the Skygor pistols and the -human crossbows. Planter also showed what he had brought from the -battlefield--several belts, numerous harness fastenings, and two of the -guns. These latter made the crossbow-girls nervous. - -"We stand by these," Mara said, tapping her crossbow. - -Planter fiddled with a pistol. Its mechanism was strange but -understandable, and he flattered himself that he could learn to use -it. As for the pen-missiles, they seemed to contain a charge that -burned violently on exposure to air. The trigger-mechanism, whether of -pistol or crossbow, punctured it, set it afire, and the vehemence of -combustion not only propelled it but destroyed the target completely. - -The older woman, whose name was Mantha, nodded her head over a decision. - -"Let the man have the dag," she granted, with an air of authority. "If -he fights as Mara says, he may be of aid. Yet he is unlike those we -know, in hue and aspect." - -True enough, Planter was dark of complexion, with black curls and ruddy -tan jaws. He spoke to Mantha, respectfully, for the others called her -"Mother" and treated her as a commander. - -"I'm not of your people," he said. "I come from another planet. Earth." - -"Earth?" she repeated. "You come from there? Why, so do we all." - - * * * * * - -Down a trail went a patrol of Skygors. Among them, not much under -them in size, tramped Max. His broad shoulders bore a great burden of -supplies from the ship. At the head of the procession, next to the -chief, walked Disbro. - -As someone else was saying to Planter at almost the same moment, the -chief Skygor boomed to Disbro: "You are not like men we know." - -"Naturally not," agreed Disbro. "Your race is more like a bunch of -freak reptiles." - -"Not my race," demurred the chief Skygor. "Men. Slaves." - -Disbro understood only part, and took exception to that. "I'm no slave -of yours," he warned. - -"No. Equal. We have long needed equal men, to kill off the wild girls." - -"You see, Mr. Disbro?" chimed in Max from behind. - - * * * * * - -David Planter was embarrassed. - -Inside the Nest, he sat on a crude chair opposite Mantha, the Mother. -The overhead light burned dim, and damp-banishing fires in the ovens -mingled red glows. Planter asked questions, but was distracted by -the crossbow-girls, who watched him with round eyes, whispering and -giggling. Mara, near by, scowled at the noise-makers. - -"This Venus world has much that's unknown," Mantha said. "Here in the -north can we dwell. Not many days off the steam is thick, the heat -horrid, the jungle dreadful. None go there and return." - -"Mother, if you are called that, enlighten me," begged Planter. "You -say you come from Earth." - -"Our fathers came. Lifetimes agone." - -Planter's good-looking face showed his amazement. Interworld flight was -new, he had thought. But some unknown expedition might have tried it, -succeeded, and then never returned to report. - -"'Twas for fear of black Cromwell," Mantha enlarged. - -"Cromwell!" echoed Planter. "The Puritan leader who fought and wiped -out the English Cavaliers?" - -Mantha seized on one word. "Cavaliers. Yes. Our lives were forfeit. We -flew hither." - -It explained everything--human beings in a world never meant for -anything but amphibians, their fair complexions, their quaint but -understandable speech, the crossbows that would be familiar weapons to -Shakespere, Drake or Captain John Smith. Yes, it explained everything, -except how pre-machine age Britishers could succeed on a voyage where -eight space-ships before Planter's had failed. - -"How did you fly?" demanded Planter, amazed. - -Mantha shook her graying locks. "Nay, I know not. 'Twas long ago, and -all records are held in the Skygor fastness." - -"They stole from you?" - -"After our fathers made landfall, there was war," Mantha said, her -voice bitter. "The Skygors were many, and would have slain all, but -thought to hold slaves. And as slaves our fathers dwelt and died, and -their children after them." - -"But you aren't slaves," protested Planter. - -"'Tis Skygor fashion to keep all men, and such women as are hale enow -for toil. Others who seem weak they cast forth to die, like us!" - -"Who did not die," chimed in Mara, plucking her bowstring. "We found -fruits, meat, shelter, and joined. Now we slay Skygors for their metals -and shot. Lately they slay weaklings, lest they join us." - -Planter whistled. This was a harsh proof of human tenacity. The Skygors -discarding unprofitable servants and finding them a menace. "None of -you are weaklings," he said. - -"Freedom brings health," replied Mantha sententiously. "Yet they are -many more than we, well fortified, and have a strange spell to whelm -those who attack." She grimaced in distaste. "We but lurk and linger, -fighting when we must and fleeing when we may. As the last of us dies--" - -Things began to happen. - -A tall, robust girl, very handsome, had been hitching her woven chair -close to Planter. With a pert boldness she touched his hand. - -"I've seen no man since I was driven forth, a child," she informed him. -"I like you. I am Sala." - -Mara rose from her own seat, swore a rather Elizabethan oath, and -slapped Sala's face resoundingly. - -Sala, too, sprang up. Larger than Mara, she clutched her assailant's -shoulders and tripped her over a neatly extended foot. Mara spun -sidewise in falling, broke Sala's hold, came to her feet with a drawn -dagger. - -This happened silently and swiftly, with none of the screaming and -fumbling that marks the rare battles between Terrestrial women. Planter -stared, half aghast and half admiring. Another girl whispered behind -him: "Let them fight, send them ill days! Look at me, I am not ugly." - -Perhaps to flee this new admirer, Planter threw himself between the -two fighters. As Mara attempted to stab Sala, Planter caught her -weapon wrist and wrenched the knife from her. Meanwhile, Sala snatched -up a crossbow. Leaving Mara, Planter struck the thing out of aiming -line just in time. The pen-missile tore through the baskety wall of -the Nest, and Planter gained possession of the crossbow, not without -trouble. - -"Are you girls fighting over me?" he demanded. - -"Egad, what else?" challenged Mantha, who had also sprung forward. "Art -a man of height and presence. For any man these my manless girls would -contend." - -"Aye, would we," agreed one of the bevy, with frightening candor. - -"He's mine," snapped Mara, holding her own crossbow at the ready. "Step -forth who will, and I speak true." - -"I'm nobody's," exploded Planter. "Anyway, I'm going--I've two friends -near here that I've got to find, and soon!" - -"More men!" ejaculated Sala, forgetting her anger. - -"Fighters, with weapons," said Planter, ignoring her. "They'll help you -smoke out these Skygors and set free your kinsmen." - -Happy cries greeted his words. - -"I'll guide you home, David Planter," offered Mara, and Mantha gestured -approval. - -Mara and Planter left the Nest by a new jungle trail. Mara explained -that these tunnels were made by great floundering beasts, and served -as runways for smaller land life. The girl trod the green, fog-filled -labyrinths with assurance. Within minutes they reached the pool where -Disbro had landed the ship. - -At the edge floated the limp, dead thing that Mara had killed to save -Planter. Small flutterers, like gross-winged flies but as large as -gulls, swarmed to dig out morsels. Mara called the creature a krau, -the flying scavengers ghrols. "Skygor words, for ugly beasts," she -commented. "Neither is good for food." - -Planter picked his way from root to root toward the ship. "Disbro!" he -called. "Max!" - -There was no answer. He scrambled up and inside, then out again. -"Something's happened," he said gravely. - -Mara studied the massed logs that made a rough raft. "Skygor work. And -eke the rope of wires about your ship." - -"They've been captured by Skygors? For slaves?" Planter had climbed -down again. His hand sought the Skygor pistol at his belt, his face -was tense and pale. "I'll get them back. Where's this swamp-city you -mention?" - -She pointed. "Not far. But the way is perilous. The trails throng with -Skygors, and there is the spell." - -"That sounds like some old superstition," snorted Planter. "I'm not -afraid of Skygors. I killed two today." - -"Aye," she smiled. "They are not great fighters in these parts. But -there are more than two at the city ... come along." - -"You can go back to the Nest." - -She smiled more broadly. "How else will you find the way, my David? For -you _are_ my David." - -"Don't start that again," he bade her, more roughly than he felt. "Lead -the way." - - * * * * * - -Mara took a nearby jungle trail. After some time, she paused and -studied the matted footing. "Tracks," she pronounced. "Certain Skygors, -and two pairs of feet shod like yours." - -Planter looked at the muddled marks thus diagnosed by the skilled -trail-eye of Mara. "My friends and their captors?" - -"Aye, that. They went this way. Come." - -She slipped aside through the close-set stems. Planter did likewise. -Mara slung her crossbow behind her, and climbed a trunk as a beetle -scales a flower-stalk. "'Tis safer from Skygors up here," she told him -over her shoulder "Follow me carefully." - -Planter did so, with difficulty. He was a vigorous climber, and the -lesser gravity of Venus made him more agile. But Mara, some forty feet -overhead, swung through the criss-cross of limbs and vines like a -squirrel. "Wait!" he called, striving to catch up. - -She paused, finger to lips. As he came near, she said softly: "Not so -loud! We come close. Feel you the spell?" - -Hanging quietly, Planter did feel it. - -Uneasiness came, chilling his back despite the steamy warmth. His hair -stirred on his head, his teeth gritted, and he could not reason himself -out of the mood. Mara moved ahead, and he followed. Growing accustomed -to the climbing, he made progress. But the uncomfortable sense of peril -grew rather than diminished. - -Once in their strange journey Mara paused, and from a belt-pouch -produced food. It consisted of fire-dried fruits, strange to Planter -but tasty and substantial; also two meat-dumplings, made by wrapping a -nut-flavored dough around morsels of flesh. For drink she plucked long -spear-like leaves from a vine, and Planter found them full of pungent -juice. While they munched, he heard boomings in the distance, which -Mara identified as Skygor speech. - -"We are almost there," she whispered. "Look well." - -She rose, and again they took up the journey. After a time she paused -again, and pointed. - -Just beyond them the branches thinned out over a great open space in -the jungle. Under a far-flung canopy of white vapors lay the swamp-city -of the Skygors. - - * * * * * - -Planter, gazing in wonder at the strange city, thought of old Venice, -or of a beaver colony in a diked pond. Before and beneath him was a -quiet greeny-clear body of water. Around its rim grew shrubs, bushes -and huge reeds, their roots clasping the great facing of white rock -which apparently paved the banks and bottom of the pool. In the water -itself, poking above the surface in little pointed clusters and plainly -visible where they extended beneath, were the houses of the Skygors. - -They were of some kind of soil or clay that had been processed to a -concrete hardness, and were tinted in various colors. Some of the -smaller dwellings were roughly spherical, and crowned with cone-shaped -roofs. Others, larger, protruded well above the water in cylindrical -form. Here and there travel-ways connected the clustered groups. - -But it was beneath the surface that the town was complex and great. It -seemed to lie tier above tier, closely built and grouped, with here and -there protruding arms or wings of building, like coral budded from the -main mass. In those depths swam myriads of Skygors, plainly at home -under water. More of them, at the window-holes of the upper towers -or paddling on the surface, boomed and roared to each other in their -deafening language. From on high, Planter saw them as smaller and less -to be dreaded. They might have been slight fantasy things, water-elves -or super-intelligent frogs. - -"Look you, David Planter," prompted Mara, at his elbow. - -From a tunnel-like hole in the jungle, a group of Skygors emerged. -Among them were two human figures, clad like Planter in loose overalls -and helmets. - -"Your friends?" Mara questioned. - -"Right," snapped Planter grimly. He drew the pistol-weapon and glared. - -Disbro and Max, the latter stooping under a great bale of goods from -the ship, had paused on the brink of the water. A Skygor was thundering -to them, in words of English which Planter, across the water, found -hard to catch. Other Skygors motioned at the pool, and one or two -jumped in and struck out for nearby buildings. - -"They want your friends to dive," Mara informed him. "See, the slim -one shakes his head." - -Planter rested the pistol on his forearm, and sighted on the Skygor -who harangued Disbro. Meanwhile, other Skygors were bringing up -what appeared to be a small, inflated boat, that operated with a -paddle-wheel arrangement behind. - -Mara saw what Planter was doing. "No!" she gasped. "Don't, David!" - -"I'm going to," he told her. - -"We'll be next!" - -"Nonsense! Those flapper-footed devils can't climb! They're too heavy, -too clumsy!" - -She caught at his weapon wrist, but he had fired. - -The Skygor weapon was a wondrous one. Even an indifferent shot like -Planter could not miss with it. The Skygor beside Disbro seemed to -burst into flame around his flat, bushel-mouthed face, and then he -collapsed and lay still. His companions swarmed to his side, rending -the air with their horrid yells. - -Planter chuckled, and Mara moaned. The man moved forward among the -branches, to a place where he could be seen. - -"Hai, Disbro!" he trumpeted, as loudly as any Skygor. "Max! It's David -Planter! Run while you have the chance, I'll pick those toads off!" - -But neither of his friends offered to escape. They only stood and gazed -at him. - -"You idiots!" blazed Planter, and then saw that two of the Skygors on -the inflated boat were aiming weapons at him. He sent a silver pen -at their craft, and it melted abruptly as its air escaped from the -puncture. A third shot took one of the Skygors splashing in the water. -"Run, you two!" Planter bade his companions once more. - -He felt a grip on his ankle, and glanced down. Mara had crouched low, -was trying to pull him back from view. As soon as she had his eye, she -let him go, and thrust both fingers into her ears in some sort of a -sign he did not comprehend. - -Understanding dawned suddenly, and too late. - -The mist trembled and swirled at a sudden outburst of sound louder than -even a Skygor chorus. Planter dropped his weapon, began to lift his -hands to his ears in imitation of Mara. But he could not! - -The noise possessed him, as a rush of electric current might course -through a body, paralyzing and agonizing it. He swayed and floundered -among the branches. His hair bristled, his ears rang, his blood -coursed, every fiber of him vibrated. Yet something about it was -vaguely familiar, as though it was something he had experienced, or a -magnification of such a something. - -Yes, of course ... the uneasiness that Mara called the "spell." Some -device made a noise-vibration, normally sub-audible but unpleasant -enough to warn aliens away. In a time like this, when attack came, it -could be intensified to the point of striking the enemy stupid. - -Meanwhile, he was falling, through branches and leafage, to splash -clumsily into the water of the pool. Abruptly the noise ceased. The -Skygors were around him, their flipper-hands fastening upon him, and he -was too wrung out, too grateful for silence, to resist. - - * * * * * - -He may have fainted. Later on, he could not be sure. But his next clear -memory was of lying in one of the inflated paddle-boats, in which sat -Skygors with weapons. There also sat Disbro, watching him intently. - -"Disbro!" muttered Planter. "They got you, too?" - -"No, they didn't get me, too," mimicked Disbro. "I'm in the racket with -them, understand?" - -Planter sat up, and two Skygors half-drew their weapons to warn him. "I -thought you were captured," he mumbled. - -"Not me. I do things neatly. Showed I could be an enemy, but would -rather be a friend. You butted in, killing two of them. Someone says -you got two others earlier today. They're holding you a prisoner, and -probably you'll be killed." - -Planter studied Disbro. "Easy does it," he said softly. "Better not act -as if you know me. You might get mixed up in--" - -"No chance!" snarled Disbro. "I told them that you were an enemy of -mine. I'm not mixed up in anything." - -Planter subsided. Plainly Disbro was able to take care of himself. -Plainly Planter must do the same, with no help from anyone. He -wondered about Mara, with a sudden chilled pang. The brave girl -had guided him here, despite her knowledge that Skygor country was -dangerous. She had done it to please him, because she liked him. He -wondered what had happened to her. - -He lounged under the Skygor guns, thinking of Mara. In his mind he saw -the light of her steady blue eyes, felt the touch of her slim, strong -hand. His heart quickened. - -"Hang it," he told himself, "you aren't in love with her. She's a -savage, and you only met her a few hours ago! You're only worried -because you feel responsibility." - -But he knew he lied. - -The boat brought them to an entrance-hole at water-level, in a large -cylindrical structure. Disbro swaggered inside, with his new friends. -A guard prodded Planter with his pistol-barrel to follow. As Planter -obeyed, he saw behind him another boat, in which rode Max with all the -baggage he had been carrying. Skygors sat with Max, plainly on good -terms. Max saw Planter, too, and his face twitched and scowled as in an -effort to rationalize. - -Inside, he found himself in a large bare room with dry, rough-cast -walls. Disbro waited there, with a Skygor whose elaborate chain-mail -suggested that he was an officer. - -"Disbro," boomed this individual cordially, "You say this is your -enemy? What shall be done to him?" - -"I leave that to you, Phra," answered Disbro, with the grand manner of -bestowing gifts. "You have your own ways of handling such problems. I -am content." - -Another Skygor approached, and the officer discussed the case in -deafening Skygor language. Then, facing Planter, he resumed English: - -"Your life is forfeit, but you look strong. Perhaps you can prove -yourself worth keeping. Join the slaves." - -He struck his webbed hands together. A human man ran in. - -Like Mara and the other crossbow-girls, this man was blond, but the -resemblance ended there. He wore loose, brief garments of elastic -fabric, no weapons, and his face was mild and servile. Phra pointed to -Planter. - -"Below with him! Put him to the spring mill!" - -The slave beckoned, and led Planter away, studying him curiously. - -Planter spoke at once: "You have many friends here, in slavery? Perhaps -I can get you out of this." - -"Out of this!" The echo was horrified. "To starve in the jungle? Marry, -sir, art mad or sick to say such a thing! Come, down these stairs." - - * * * * * - -Planter obeyed his new companion. They went down a dim, stone stairway, -lighted with green bulbs. From below came sounds of mechanical action. - -"What's your name?" Planter asked the slave. - -"Glanfil. And you?" - -"David Planter. How many slaves are there here? Human slaves?" - -"Two hundred, belike. Half as many as the Skygors." - -That was a new thought to Planter. On Earth, races were numbered in -the millions--here, by the scores. Of course, this might not be the -only Skygor city. Mara had mentioned the difficulty of exploring any -distance from this habitable pole. For a moment he felt the thirst -for knowledge. Wasn't this world as large as his own planet? Might it -not have continents, oceans, mountain ranges, whole genera of strange -species, perhaps other civilizations and climates? Then he remembered. -He was a slave. And a booming voice drove the memory home. - -"Below, men," thundered a Skygor guard. "You are not fed and lodged to -be idle." - -"Pardon," mumbled Glanfil, and quickened his descent. Planter followed, -beating down a rage of battle at the rough shouting of the guard. - -The under-water levels were not flooded, though the walls were gloomily -damp. Planter found himself in a great rambling chamber, bordered and -cumbered with machines, at which men toiled. Glanfil was presenting him -to a Skygor, who made notes with a crayon-like instrument on a board. -"New?" he questioned in his ear-dulling roar. "Whence came he? Never -stop to answer--show him how to work your machine." - -Glanfil led him to a cylindrical appliance against a wall. It had a -multitude of levers and push-buttons, and lights shone in its glassed -forefront. Most of these were green, but one turned red as they -approached. Glanfil pushed a button and turned a lever. The light -switched to green again. - -"The red means a faulty rhythm somewhere in the light system," -explained Glanfil. "Fix it by manipulating the buttons and levers near -the red lights--yes, so. It takes not skill, but wary watching." - -Planter took over. He found time to observe the rest of the -slave-teemed basement. - -Some operated a treadmill, others wound at keys or turned cranks. The -machines were strange but not mysterious. He judged that they pumped, -elevated, and modelled. Glanfil answered his questions: - -"'Tis the Skygor method. We supply power by our labors. Springs, -levers, such things, are worked." - -"Springs and levers?" repeated Planter. "Is this a clockwork town? Why -not fuel? Steam?" - -Glanfil shook his head. "We men make small fires, but the Skygors not. -Their nature is moist, they want such things not. As you say, clockwork -is the use of this place." - -"If you refuse to do this slave work, what then?" - -Glanfil shrugged, and shuddered. "If the sin is not too great, you go -to a level below this. Men drag upon a capstan, to wind the mightiest -of springs for town works." - -"Like rowing in a galley!" Planter summed up wrathfully. "But if the -sin is pretty sinful?" - -A Skygor overseer came close, saw that Planter had learned the simple -machine, and called Glanfil to some other task. Planter worked until -such time as a raucous voice bade another shift take over. Marshalled -with twenty or more slaves, he was led away to a musty vault, one side -of which was lined with cell-like sleeping quarters. Here was a brick -oven--perhaps those in the Nest were designed from it--over which two -sturdy women toiled at cookery. As the slaves entered, these women -quickly passed out stone plates and metal spoons. Into these were -poured generous portions of hot, appetizing stew. - -"They feed you well, these Skygors," commented Planter to Glanfil as -he finished his plateful. - -"'Tis their fashion. They seek to make us happy." - -Planter went to the kettles for another helping of stew, and ate more -slowly. "I'd rather eat in freedom," he commented, half to himself. - -"Freedom?" echoed Glanfil, as if scornful. "We hear of what freedom can -be. Scant commons, rough beds, danger and damp. Better to toil honestly -and fare well." - -"Aye," said a bigger slave, with a spade beard of reddish tinge. "Did -not the Skygors help our first fathers, stranger, as now they help you?" - -"I've heard otherwise," Planter rejoined. "It seems there was a -fight--the men were licked--the survivors made captive and put to work. -That's what happened to me." - -"Best be silent," murmured Glanfil, bending close. "That talk makes few -friends." - - * * * * * - -Planter changed the subject, asking various questions about Venus. His -companions eyed him strangely as he displayed his ignorance, but made -cheerful answer. - -The noise that had overwhelmed him was a vibrating metal instrument, -they said. Their description made it sound like an organ of sorts. As -he had surmised, it was always in some sort of operation, and could -be turned on full force if need be. The Skygors, with senses meant to -endure great noises, were not hurt by such a din, but human ears would -be tortured if not quickly closed. "Our labors give the instrument -power," informed Glanfil, rather proudly. - -Planter thought over his experiences of the day. "The Skygors have many -human devices," he ventured. - -"Aye, that," agreed the big bearded one. "In the first days, our -fathers brought many articles, which the Skygors developed and used." - -"There's what I'm driving at!" Planter broke in, forgetting Glanfil's -council to be cautious. "They not only enslaved you, they took your -ideas and improved themselves. I'll wager they were savages to begin -with! And you're actually grateful for the chance to crawl at their -big, webbed feet!" - -"This world belongs to the Skygors," spoke up one of the women as she -washed dishes. "Without them we would be shelterless and foodless, like -the weaklings they drove forth." - -Planter refrained to tell what he knew of the crossbow-girls. Plainly -he was up against an attitude of content from which it would be hard -to free his new companions--harder than to free them from guards and -prison walls. - -He slept that night in a hammock-like bed, and next day worked at the -machine. His toil was long, but not sapping, and food was good. Once -a Skygor came to take his clothing, shoes and possessions, giving him -a sleeveless shirt and shorts instead. Otherwise he was not bothered -by the masters of the city. For days--perhaps ten--he followed this -routine, masking his feeling of revolt. - -Then came a Skygor messenger to lead him away along under-water -corridors to someone who had sent. At the end of the journey he entered -an office. There sat the person he least expected to see. - -Disbro. - -"You rat," Planter began, but Disbro waved the insult aside. - -"Don't be a bigger ape than usual," he sniffed. "I've been able to do -you a favor." - -"You didn't do me much of a one when I was captured," reminded Planter. - -"How could I?" argued Disbro, in the charming fashion he could -sometimes achieve. "I was only on probation. If I'd tried to help you -then, we'd both be dead, instead of both on top of this Turkish Bath -world. Sit down." They took stools on opposite sides of a heavy, wooden -table. "Planter, how would you like to help me run Venus?" - -"You're going to get away from these Skygors?" - -Again Disbro waved the words away. "Why should I? I'll run them, too. -Look, we landed safely, didn't we? Observations on Earth will show -that, won't they?" - -"Right," agreed Planter, mystified. "There'll be more ships coming, to -look for us and maybe set up a colony." - -"That's it. We'll ambush those ships." - -"Ambush?" repeated Planter sharply. "Losing your mind, Disbro?" - -"No. I'm only thinking for all of us. Ships will come, I say. Loaded -with supplies, valuables all sorts of things. We can overwhelm them as -they land. Some of their crews will join us--the others can be rubbed -out. And the law can't touch us, Planter! Not for a minute!" - -"What are you driving at?" Planter demanded. - -"I'm the law," said Disbro, tapping his chest. "Just now I string -with the Skygors. Later I may knock 'em off. But anyway, I'm the -commander of the first expedition to land on Venus. I have a right to -take possession, in my own name." He got up, his voice rising clear -and proud. "Possession, like Columbus! Not of a continent--of a whole -world!" - - * * * * * - -Planter, leaning forward on his stool, clutched the edge of the table -so strongly that his knuckles whitened. - -"And what," he asked slowly and quietly, "do you want me to do?" - -"I'm coming to that," said Disbro, smiling with superior craftiness. -"You're going to help me solidify these loud-mouthed Skygors." - -"They hold me for a slave," reminded Planter harshly, for he did not -like the life as well as Glanfil and the others who toiled among the -clockwork. But Disbro brushed the complaint aside. - -"That's because they don't know what I know. Your lady friends, I mean." - -Planter glanced up sharply. Disbro chuckled. - -"I talk a lot with these Skygors. Not bad fellows, if you muffle your -ears. Anyway, they tell me about a herd of wild girls that bushwacks -them constantly, and which they hope I'll find and destroy. Lately -some of those girls have been scouting around, yelling for something. -The Skygors haven't the best of English, and don't know what the words -mean. But I do. Those girls are calling your name. David Planter." - -Mara had come back for him, then. She braved the terrors of the Skygor -fortress, trying to get him back. Planter felt warmth around his heart. -He faced Disbro and shook his head. - -"I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "You must be -getting drunk with your Skygor friends." - -"They don't have any kind of liquor, only some sort of sniff-powder I -wouldn't touch. And you're a cheerful liar, Planter. You know all about -those girls, and you're probably good friends with them. Don't be a -fool, I'm offering you a slice of my empire!" - -"Empire!" echoed Planter, honestly scornful. "You really think you'll -go through with this idea of grabbing Venus for yourself?" - -"I know all the angles. Back on Earth I was boss of quite an -organization." - -"And ended up in jail, buying your way out by gambling your life on -this voyage!" Planter rushed those words into speech, but made them -clear, biting and passionate. "You're a case for brain doctors, not -jail wardens. I don't know why I listen to you." - -"I know why," hurled back Disbro. "Because I'm already quite a pet -among these Skygors. I can kill you or save you. Meanwhile, we're -changing the subject. I want you to lead me to these wild girls, and -after we're solid with them, a bunch of Skygors will come--" - -"Nothing doing!" - -"In other words, you now admit that there is such a group! And you'll -take orders, Planter. I'm still chief of the expedition." - -Planter shook his head. "I can give you arguments on that. You've -betrayed the trust of the Foundation back home. That lets you out. You -don't have authority over me." - -He rose abruptly. "Send me back to the basement, Disbro." - -Disbro, too, jumped up. He held something in his hand. It was a gun, -not a Skygor curiosity but a Terrestrial-made automatic. - -"You don't get off that easy, Planter. I need you badly. And you need -your insides badly. Knuckle down, before I blow them out!" - -Planter smiled, broadly and rather sunnily. Suddenly he lifted a -toe. He kicked over the table against and upon Disbro. Down went the -elegant, lean figure, and a bullet sang over Planter's head as he dived -in to grapple and fight. - -Disbro, the lighter of the two, was wondrously agile. Almost before -he struck the concrete floor, he was wriggling clear of the table. -Planter's weight threw him flat again, but he struck savage, choppy -blows with the pistol he still held. Half-dazed, Planter could not get -a tight grip, and Disbro got away and up. Planter, shaking the mist -from his battered head, staggered after him, caught his weapon wrist -and wrung the gun away. It clanged down at their feet. - -"All right, Planter, if you want it that way," muttered Disbro -savagely, and took a long stride backward. He got time to fall on guard -like the accomplished boxer he was. - -Planter sprang after him. Disbro met him with a neat left jab, followed -it with a hook that bobbed Planter's head back, and easily slid away -from a powerful but clumsy return. When Planter faced him again, he -stood out of danger, smiling and lifting a little on his toes. - -"How do you like it?" he laughed. "Didn't know I was a fancy Dan, eh?" - -Planter charged again. Disbro slipped right and left tries at his jaw, -returned a smart peg to Planter's belly, and then let the bigger man -blunder past and fetch up against a wall. Planter was forced to lean -there a nauseous moment, and Disbro hooked him hard under the ear. A -moment later, Planter was crouching and backing away, sheltering his -bruised head with crossed arms. He heard Disbro laugh again. "This is -fun," pronounced Disbro. "I've been taught by professionals, Planter. -Good ones, not washouts like poor Max." - -Planter clinched at last, but Disbro's wiry body spun loose. The two -faced each other, and Planter felt some of his strength and wit come -back. - -He realized that he was being beaten. He must change tactics. He -remembered what he could of fist-science, and abruptly crouched. Again -he advanced, but not in a rush. Inch by inch he shuffled in, head sunk -between his shoulders, hands lifted to strike or defend. - -"You look like a turtle," mocked Disbro, and tried with a left. It -glanced off of Planter's forehead, and Planter sidled to his left, away -from Disbro's more dangerous right. Bobbing and weaving lower still, he -baffled more efforts to sting him. A moment later, Disbro was backing, -and Planter had him in a corner, close in. - -He struck, not for Disbro's adroit head, but for his body. His left -found the pit of the stomach, just within the apex of the shallow, -inverted V where ribs slope down from breastbone. Disbro grunted in -pain, and Planter put all his shoulders behind a short, heavy peg under -the heart. Again to the belly, twice--thrice--he felt Disbro sag. A -hook glanced from Planter's jowl, but it was weak and shaky. Disbro -managed to slip out of the corner, but Planter was now the stronger -and surer. Across the room he followed his enemy, playing ever for the -body--kidneys, abdomen, heart. Disbro was hanging on, his breath came -in choking grunts. Planter struggled loose, and sank one clean, hard -right uppercut. - -Disbro spun off of his feet, fell across the overturned table, and lay -moaning and gasping. - -"Had enough?" Planter challenged. - -Disbro was crawling on the floor, trying to grab the pistol. Planter -sprang in, stamped on Disbro's knuckles. Disbro had only the strength -and breath for one scream, and collapsed. - -Abruptly Skygors entered, Skygors with hard eyes and leveled weapons. -"What," demanded one, "is this?" - -Disbro, helped to his shaky feet, pointed to Planter. -"He--he--refused," he managed to wheeze out. - -Disbro nodded, and Planter felt a sudden rush of joy. They would drive -him forth, as they used to drive forth unprofitable female slaves. And -he would find the Nest again, and Mara. - -He was being herded along a passage, up stairs. The Skygors who guarded -him kept their weapons close against his ribs. "No escape," they -promised him balefully. - -He wondered at that, but only a little. Now they had brought him out -upon an open, railed bridge between two buildings. Below was water, -above the thick Venusian mist. "Jump," a Skygor bade him. - -"I need no second chance," Planter replied, breezily, and dived in. - -He still wore the scanty costume of a slave, and it allowed him to -strike out easily for the edge of the pool. Behind him the Skygors were -discussing him, but in their own guttural tongue which he could not -understand. As he swam, he studied the city beneath the water. - -He meant to come back and assail that city some time, and there must -be worthwhile secrets to note. For instance, he was now aware that -this pool was artificial--he made out the sluices and gates of a large -dam. To one side was a spacious submarine chamber that must be the -clockwork-jammed cellar where his erstwhile companions, the slaves, -worked. - -But something else was under water, something that moved darkly, -but had arms and legs, though it was as vast as an elephant. It was -approaching him swiftly, knowingly. - -Now he knew why he had been told, with such a voice of doom, to jump -into the water. - - * * * * * - -Planter's blood was still up because of that brisk battle with Disbro. -He was young, strong, in gilt-edge condition. His new impulse was to -keep on fighting, against the thing which had the size, the intention, -and apparently the appetite, to engulf him. - -The huge swimmer was a Skygor, of tremendous size. Logic in the back of -Planter's head bade him not to be amazed; on this damp, fecund world, -monsters of such sort were not too unthinkable. As it broke surface, -he heard a hubbub like many steam sirens. The smaller Skygors, on -housetops and bridges, were all chanting some sort of ear-bursting -litany, waving their flippers in unison. Plainly they worshiped this -giant of their race. He, Planter, was a gift--a sacrifice. - -He swam speedily, but his pursuer was speedier still. With ponderous -overhand strokes it overhauled him. An arm as long as his body, with a -flipper-hand like a tremendous scoop shovel, extended to clutch at him. -A mouth like an open trunk gaped, large enough to gulp him bodily. - -Only one thing to do. He did it--dived at once, turning under water -and darting below and in an opposite direction from the great swimmer. -By pure, happy chance, his kicking feet struck the soft cushion of its -mighty belly, and he heard the thrumming gasp of the wind he knocked -out of it. Coming up beyond, he swam desperately toward a nearby -building. If he could climb up, away, from this huge, hungry being. - -"No, not here!" That was a Skygor, poking its ugly smirking face from -a window-hole. He tried to seize the sill to draw himself out of the -water, and it lifted a dagger to slash at his knuckles. - -But then it gasped, wriggled. The paw opened, the knife fell. Planter -managed to catch it as it struck the water. A moment later he saw what -had happened--big human hands were fastened on the slimy throat from -behind. The Skygor, struggling, was pulled back out of sight. In its -place showed the flat, simple features of Max. - -"Huhh!" gurgled Max. "You in trouble, Mr. Planter?" - -He put out a hand to help. At the same moment a monstrous flipper -struck at Planter, driving him deep under water. - -He filled his lungs with air at the last moment, spun and tried to kick -away. His enemy had its hooked claws in his clothing and was drawing -him toward the dark cavern of its mouth. Planter struck with the knife -he had snatched, and buried the blade in the slimy-green lower lip of -the creature. It let go, and a cloud of blood--red as the blood of -Earth's creatures--suddenly obscured the water, so that Planter could -attempt another escape. - -He reached the top once again. The giant held itself half out of the -water, big and grotesque as some barbaric sculpture, one webbed hand -held against its wounded mouth. As Planter came into view, its big, -bitter eyes caught sight of him. Dropping its hand, it howled at him. -All the Skygors at their watch-points echoed that howl and began to -repeat their uncouth litany once again. The monster pursued as before. - -But from his watch-window, Max threw his burly pugilist's body. - -Coarsely built Max might have been. Stupid he undoubtedly was. Cowardly -and clumsy he was not. As he flung himself into space, he shifted so -that his feet were down. He drove them hard between the shoulders of -the huge Skygor demon, and the impact of his flying weight drove it -under water. - -"Get out of here!" yelled Max at Planter. "Get out!" - -He had time for no more, for he, too, submerged. Planter clasped his -knife in his teeth, and turned in the water. He could not desert that -plucky rescuer. - - * * * * * - -Righting itself, the big Skygor grimaced under the troubled, gory -surface. It was having trouble--more trouble than ever before in -its freakish, idle, overstuffed life as deity and champion of the -community. Two alien dwarfs, of a species it had looked on hitherto as -only enticing meat, were viciously attacking and wounding it. Hunger -was overlaid by a stern lust for vengeance. - -It spied one of the enemy very close, swimming away. Max was not as -much at home in the water as Planter, and he could not dodge its -grasping talons. Treading water, the thing hoisted him clear, as a -child might lift a kitten. Its other paw struck him, with openwebbed -palm, hard as a mule's kick. - -Max went limp. Once again that awful mouth opened to its full extent. - -"No, you don't!" cried Planter, battling his way close. For a -second time he drove with the knife, sheathing it to the hilt in a -slate-colored chest, close to one armpit. - -A fountain of blood sprang forth, drenching his face and weapon hand. -He dragged strongly downward, felt his weapon point grating on bone, -then coming free. That was a terrible wound, but not a disabling one. -In a frenzy of pain and rage, the Skygor giant threw Max far away into -the water, and whirled to look for its other tormentor. - -But Planter had dived yet again. The fresh blood obscured his passage -as before. He came up, panted for air, and seized the limp wrist of -Max. As he kicked away for shore, he heard the whine and _splat_ of a -missile. - -The Skygors were shooting at him. - -He bobbed under, bringing Max with him. As he fought through the water, -he felt his friend quiver and beat with his hands. He felt fierce joy. -Max was alive, he too, would escape. He had to come up. - -"Duck down, Planter," Max told him at once. "They're going to give us -another volley." - -His voice was suddenly intelligent, his words sensible and articulate. -Planter took the advice, swam forward again. - -"Shore's that way," said Max, when they came up. "Can you make it? -Give me your hand." - -The ex-pugilist was climbing over a tangle of roots, to solid ground at -last. Planter made shift to follow him. - -"What--happened--" Planter barely whispered. - -Max laughed, very cheerfully. "What a wallop that sea-elephant has! I -guess it knocked my senses back into me. Another belt dizzied me back -on Earth. So it's logical that--" - -Yes, logical.... Max was no longer a dim, stupid child in a big man's -body. - -Planter felt himself weakening. He had fought himself out. Even as he -turned toward the jungle, he stumbled and fell, rolled over on his back. - -He could see the whole surface of the water-city. Skygors were coming -in throngs to recapture him, crowded aboard their inflated boats, -or swimming. For ahead of them, something like an awful goblin was -scrambling out--the mighty freak he and Max had dodged up to now. It -stood erect on powerful, awkward legs, its eyes probing here and there -to pick up the trail of its prey. - -Planter tried to tell Max to run, but his strength and breath were -spent. He could only lie and watch. Max had torn up a kind of sapling, -whirled it aloft like a club. The tottering colossus approached them, -heavily and grimly. It grinned relentlessly, its bloody muzzle opened -and slavered. - -Out of the jungle moved another figure. A smaller Skygor? No--_Mara_! - -She sprang across the prostrate form of Planter. He managed to rise -to an elbow, just as she planted herself in the way of the oncoming -destruction. It loomed high above her, paws lifted to seize and crush -her. But she had lifted her crossbow. - -Pale fire flashed. The string hummed. At a scant five feet of distance -she slammed a pen-missile full into the thing's immense chest. - -It staggered back from her, its face gone into a terrible oversize -mask of awful pain. Those great legs, like dark, gnarled stumps, bowed -and bent. It fell uncouthly, supported itself on spread hands. Planter -could see the hole Mara had burned in it, a great red raw pit the size -of a bushel basket. Then it was down, motionless. Dead. - -Max had helped Planter up. "Can you run?" he was demanding. - -"No! No!" Mara interposed, hurrying back to them. "Not run! Fight!" - -"Fight?" Planter echoed, rather idiotically. - -"Fight the Skygors! See, your friends have come!" - -Through the jungle to the water's edge pressed other human figures, in -Terrestrial overalls and helmets. - - * * * * * - -A slim, square-faced man in the neatest of overall costumes had grabbed -Planter's elbow. It was beginning to rain again. Thunder sounded, like -Skygors grumbling high in the mist. "Quick!" said the square-faced man. -"You're Planter, aren't you? And that other man--but where's Disbro." - -Planter pointed toward the water-city. "Who are you?" he demanded, as -if they had all day. - -"Dr. Hommerson. Commanding this new expedition. Ten of us in the big -new ship started when they reported you landing safely. We cracked up, -not far from where your ship bogged down. This girl found us, said--" - -"Whatever she said was true!" cut in Planter. "Quick, defend yourself -against those Skygors." - -"They'll defend themselves against us," rejoined Dr. Hommerson bleakly. -"If they're smart, and if they're lucky." - -His companions had formed a sort of skirmish line among the thickest -stems at the water's edge. With a variety of weapons--force-rifles, -machine guns, one or two portable grenade throwers--they had opened on -the Skygors. - -The amphibian dwellers in the water-city had started to chase Planter -and Max, but the destruction of their giant kinsman had daunted and -immobilized them. Now they had something else to shake their courage, -which was never too great. Well-aimed shots were picking them off, in -the boats, in the water, on the housetops and bridges. - -"Don't show yourselves more than is necessary!" Dr. Hommerson was -barking. "If they know there's only a handful of us, they might--" He -unlimbered a patent pistol, one with a long barrel, a magazine of -fourteen rounds in the stock, and a wooden holster that could fit into -a slot and form a makeshift butt like that of a rifle. Lifting this to -his shoulder, he began to shoot at such of the Skygors as still showed -themselves. - -Mara had rushed to Planter's side. "They're retreating!" she cried. -"The spell--remember the _spell_!" - -True enough, he'd forgotten. That wild, unmanning storm of noise that -defended Skygor country, that had knocked him into their webbed fingers -as a captive and slave, might begin at any moment. Even now the Skygors -were retiring inside their buildings, but with a certain purposeful -orderliness. As Planter watched, Max ran up to his other side. - -"She's telling the truth. I know all about that thing they sound off," -he said breathlessly in his new, knowing voice. "When I was with -Disbro--working for him--I had a look at it." - -"Stop your ears," Mara was bidding. "Quick! A rag from your garment -will do!" - -She ripped away part of Planter's shirt, tore the piece in two, and -thrust wads into his ears with her forefinger. Max was plugging his own -ears. Then the sound began. - -When it began, nobody could say. Suddenly, it was there, filling space -with itself as though it were a crushing solid thing. - -Planter, even with his ears partially muffled, almost collapsed. His -body vibrated as before in every fiber, only not unendurably. He saw -Max reel, but stay on his feet. Dr. Hommerson's men, a moment ago -almost in the victor's position, were down, floundering in half-crazy -agony. Planter understood, in that rear compartment of his mind that -was always diagnosing strange things, even in the moment of worst -danger. - -The Skygors were ill-cultured, poor of spirit, prospered chiefly by -ideas stolen from the human beings they enslaved. But they understood -sound waves, could use them roughly as an electrician might use -electric vibrations. There were all the tales he had heard, of a chord -on the organ that shattered window panes, of certain orators who could -employ voice-frequencies to spellbind and impassion their audiences. -This was something like that, only more so. - -Then he saw that Mara, who had thought of saving his ears, was down at -his feet. - -"Mara!" he cried, though nobody could have heard him. He knelt, ripping -away more rags of his shirt. He crammed them furiously into her ears. -She stirred, got to her knees. She, too, could endure it now, and she -smiled at him, drawnly. - -"I knew you would come back," her lips formed words. "David Planter--my -David Planter--" - -Then she was up, crossbow at the ready. - -Because back came the Skygors, a wave of them in boats and as swimmers. -Sure of their victory through sound, they were going to mop up the -attackers. - -Max had a rifle. He lifted it, but on inspiration Planter leaped at -him and gestured for him to hold fire. From beside one of the fallen -Terrestrials he caught a grenade thrower. It was a simple amplification -of an ordinary rifle. Upon the muzzle fitted a metal device like a -bottomless bottle, the neck clamping tight to the barrel. Into the -spread body of the bottle could be slid a cylindrical grenade, the size -and shape of a condensed-milk tin. The grenade was pierced with a hole, -and the gun, if fired, would send its bullet through that hole, while -the gases of the exploding powder operated to hurl the grenade far and -forcefully and accurately. - - * * * * * - -Planter had never used one, but he had seen them used. A quick check -showed him that the rifle's magazine was full. From the belt of the -fallen man he twitched a grenade, slipped it into place. He knelt, -placed the rifle butt on the soggy mass of rotting vegetation that made -up the shoreside jungle floor. By guess, he slanted his weapon about -forty-five degrees forward. The foremost press of Skygors approached. - -_Bang!_ At Planter's trigger-touch, the grenade rose upward. For a -moment the three conscious watchers could see it, outlined against the -upper mists at the hesitating apex of its flight. Then it fell, too far -to demoralize the first ranks of Skygors, but smashing two inflated -boats in its explosion and tossing several slimy-green forms like -chips through the air. Planter slid in another grenade, worked the -rifle-bolt, and raised the weapon to his shoulder. - -It spoke again, louder even than the din of the noisemaker Mara called -the "spell." This time it struck water among the leading Skygors, and -exploded on contact. Three or four sank abruptly, several more thrashed -the water into pinky-red foam in the pain of bad wounds, the rest -wavered. - -Now Max opened fire with his rifle, and Mara with her crossbow. Both -scored hits, and the Skygors gave back. Something was going wrong, they -were realizing. The destroying sound was not paralyzing their enemy. -Meanwhile, it was best to take cover. Some ducked under the water, -others fell back toward the buildings. - -"Dynamite 'em!" cried Planter, forgetting that he could not be heard. -Stooping, he stripped away the whole beltful of grenades from its -helpless owner. He whirled it around his head as though he were -throwing a hammer on an athletic field, and sent it flying out over the -water. The shock of its fall into the depths set it off--all grenades -at once. Skygors came bounding to the top, twitching feebly. The -explosion had destroyed them, as fish are destroyed by the shock of -detonating dynamite in nearby waters. - -Then the paralyzing noise stopped. - -Hommerson was the first man up. He was dazed and groggy, but fight -was the first impulse that woke in him. Mara, Max and Planter dragged -others to their feet, shook and shouted their senses back into them. - -"They're retreating!" Planter yelled. "Let's counter-attack!" - -Close in to shore drifted one of the abandoned boats. Max had run into -the water, dragging it closer. The Terrestrials tumbled aboard, and one -of them got the paddle-wheel running. Planter, at the bow directing -fire at any Skygors who showed their heads, saw that Mara had not come -along. He worried a moment, then worried no more. She was shouting in -the jungle, and other voices--feminine voices--answered her. More of -the crossbow-girls were coming to help. - -The boat made a landing at the building where Planter had first -been dragged to slavery. It was not made for defense, and the -invaders split into small parties, ranging the corridors and outer -bridges. Planter, hurrying downstairs, heard the _spat_ of the Skygor -pen-missiles, with the replying crackle of gunfire. After a while, Mara -and other girls began to shout and chatter. They had also found a boat -and had come over. - -On the floor, above the basement where the slaves worked, he came -face to face with a Skygor, who lifted his arms appealingly, in the -surrender gesture that must be universal among all creatures who have -arms. "I want no fight," begged this one. "You are master." - -"Then come downstairs," snapped Planter. He clattered down, among the -slaves. "Stop work!" he bawled, almost as loudly as a Skygor, and the -men, bred to obey big voices, did so. - -"Outside!" was Planter's next command. One or two moved to obey, others -hung back. - -"Outside," the surrendered Skygor echoed Planter, and they came -obediently. Planter hurried them to their quarters, then slammed the -door to the big workshop. - -"That closes down your power plants," he commented to the Skygor. "Now, -quick! Which way to the controls of the dam?" - -"Dam?" the Skygor repeated stupidly. - -Planter caught the green shoulders and shook the creature roughly. It -was larger than he, but cowered. "I will show," it yielded, and led -him away. In a nearby corridor were huge handles, three of them, like -pivoted clinker-bars. Planter seized one, pulled it down. He heard -waters roaring. He pulled another. - -"You will drain the pool," protested the Skygor. - -"I want to drain the pool," Planter said. - -"Then--" The Skygor caught the third lever and pulled it down. - -Planter hurried upstairs again. His prisoner kept at his heels. - -"Why did you help me?" he asked it. - -"Because you conquer," was the booming reply. "The conquered must obey." - -"I think you believe that stuff, like the slaves," Planter sniffed. - -"Of course, I believe," responded the Skygor. - -From the upper levels came Hommerson's voice: - -"Planter! These frog-folk are giving up! They haven't any fight left in -them!" - -But Planter paused, on a landing. He looked into a small office, where -two human figures stood close together. - -One was Max. The other was Disbro. Max had Disbro by the throat, not -shaking or wrestling him. Only squeezing. - -"Max!" called Planter. "Why--" - -"Why not?" countered Max plausibly. "Planter, I think maybe you were -the thick-headed one. You always tried to get along with Disbro, as -if he was honest. I was a crazy-house case, but from the first I knew -he was wrong. It took the return of sense to understand that the only -thing to do was this." - -He let go, and Disbro fell on the floor like an empty suit of clothes. - -Max brushed his hands together, as if to clear them of dust. - -"I wonder how long I've wanted to do that," he said. "Let's go up and -watch the final mop-up." - - * * * * * - -Out of the mud pool where once a snake-armed krau had pursued Planter, -the combined strength of many arms was hoisting the bogged ship. -Cables had been woven through pulley-blocks at the tops of the biggest -and strongest poolside stems. Free men of Venus, once slaves, hauled -on these cables in brief, concerted rhythms. Here and there in the -rope-gangs toiled a Skygor, accepting defeat and companionship with the -same mild grace. Women--free women--laughed and encouraged, and now -and again threw themselves into the tugging labor that was a game, Max -oversaw everything. - -Near by, machete had hewn a little clearing. Here a waterproof tent -over a beehive framework sheltered Planter and Dr. Hommerson. They -watched as the ship, its bow-rockets toiling to help the tugging -cables, finally stirred out of its bed. - -Hommerson smiled. "Time to hold a sort of recapitulation, isn't it? As -in old-fashioned mystery yarns, when the case is solved and the danger -done away with? Of course, it all happened suddenly, but we can say -this much: - -"The Skygor mistake was that of every softened master setup. They had -a half-rigged defense against mild dangers, and never looked for real -trouble. They beat that Seventeenth Century space-expedition simply -because Terrestrials of that day hadn't the proper weapons. Otherwise, -man might have been ruling here for four hundred years and more." - -"The Skygors did have one tremendous device," observed Planter. "That -super-siren that deadens you by sound waves." - -Hommerson laughed. "And which providentially did what all clockwork -mechanisms are apt to do--ran down. It's dismantled now, anyway. We're -a fuel-engine civilization, and the Skygors will have to wonder and -admire a while before they steal our new tricks." - -Planter fingered another trophy of the battle, a great brass-bound -log book, old and yellowed, but still readable. "This answers more -riddles," he put in. "The record of those ancient fugitives from -Cromwell. Who'd have thought that their times could produce a -successful flight from planet to planet?" - -"It was a great century," reminded Hommerson. "Don't forget that -they also invented the microscope, the balloon, the principle of -maneuverable armies. Their century began with Francis Bacon and ended -with Sir Isaac Newton. That rocket fuel, which the Skygors only half -understood and used for ammunition--" - -"Doctor!" broke in Planter. "Do you remember the old Puritan tales of -witches, flying on what seemed like broomsticks?" - -"And Cyrano de Bergerac, in France about 1640, writing a tale of a -rocket to the moon? We simply forgot that they had something then. The -real complete knowledge flew here to Venus, and waited for our age to -develop it again from the beginning." - -It was so. Planter pondered awhile, and while he pondered one of the -expedition came in to make a report. - -"We can send back three in this ship when it's set," he said to -Hommerson. "Who are you taking, sir?" - -"These two who survived the earlier flight, Planter and his big, tough -friend. The rest of you can wait and develop a landing field." - -Planter spoke: "Did you see the girl called Mara out there?" - -"She was watching us," said the man. "Finally she went into the jungle." - -"With no message for me?" - -"No message for anybody." - -"Dr. Hommerson," said Planter, "pick someone else instead of me. Here I -stay." - -Hommerson looked up sharply. "Until the next ship comes?" - -"Here I stay," repeated Planter. "From now on." - -He sought a certain jungle trail, one he had traversed before. "Mara!" -he called down it. - -She was not hard to catch up with, for she was not walking fast. As he -came alongside, she looked at him with eyes too bright to be dry. - -"You came to bid goodbye," she suggested. - -He shook his head. The mist seemed less than ever before on Venus. "No. -Never goodbye." - -"Isn't the ship leaving?" - -"Leaving, all right. But not with me in it. This is home now." - -She looked down at her sandalled feet, and one hand played with the -dagger in her belt. "Methought you would be glad to regain Earth." - -"Earth? Other people gained it long ago." He pulled her hand away from -the dagger-hilt. "Stop fiddling with that stabbing-iron, there's no -fighting to be done just now. - -"You said I was yours," he told her furiously. "You said it just as if -you'd won me in a game of some sort." - -"And you brushed it aside without answering me. You had none of it." - -"Hang it, Mara, a man decides those things! And I've been deciding -them. You're the bravest creature I ever knew--the most graceful--the -most honest. You did love me once. Have you stopped?" - -"I have not stopped," she said. "But why have you waited to say these -words?" - -"I haven't had time, and I'm going to have little time for a while, -what with organization and building and food-hunting and colonizing. -But--" - -Her mouth, close at hand, was too delectable. He kissed her fiercely. -She jumped away, startled, then uttered a little breathless laugh. - -"That likes me well," she told him. "Let us do it again." - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Venus Enslaved, by Manly Wade Wellman - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VENUS ENSLAVED *** - -***** This file should be named 62137.txt or 62137.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/2/1/3/62137/ - -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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