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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/25627-h.zip b/25627-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a249336 --- /dev/null +++ b/25627-h.zip diff --git a/25627-h/25627-h.htm b/25627-h/25627-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..540ae3a --- /dev/null +++ b/25627-h/25627-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1679 @@ +<!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"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Hunted Heroes, by Robert Silverberg + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: left; clear: both; font-weight: normal;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; visibility: hidden;} + .fx {clear: both; margin: 2em auto;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin: 1em 0 1em 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center; width: 331px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + img {border: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .theend {text-align: right; margin-top: 2em;} + .bk0 {float: left;} + .bk1 {margin: 0; width: 15em; float: right;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunted Heroes, by Robert Silverberg + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + +Title: The Hunted Heroes + +Author: Robert Silverberg + +Release Date: May 27, 2008 [EBook #25627] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNTED HEROES *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bk0"><h1><big>THE<br /> +HUNTED<br /> +HEROES</big></h1> + +<h2>By ROBERT SILVERBERG</h2></div> + +<div class="bk1"><p><i>The planet itself was tough enough—barren, desolate, +forbidding; enough to stop the most adventurous and +dedicated. But they had to run head-on against a mad +genius who had a motto:</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Death to all Terrans!</i></p></div> + +<hr class="fx" /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">"Let's</span> keep moving," I told +Val. "The surest way to +die out here on Mars is to +give up." I reached over and +turned up the pressure on her +oxymask to make things a +little easier for her. Through +the glassite of the mask, I +could see her face contorted +in an agony of fatigue.</p> + +<p>And she probably thought +the failure of the sandcat was +all my fault, too. Val's usually +about the best wife a guy +could ask for, but when she +wants to be she can be a real +flying bother.</p> + +<p>It was beyond her to see +that some grease monkey back +at the Dome was at fault—whoever +it was who had failed +to fasten down the engine +hood. Nothing but what had +stopped us <i>could</i> stop a sandcat: +sand in the delicate +mechanism of the atomic engine.</p> + +<p>But no; she blamed it all on +me somehow: So we were out +walking on the spongy sand +of the Martian desert. We'd +been walking a good eight +hours.</p> + +<p>"Can't we turn back now, +Ron?" Val pleaded. "Maybe +there isn't any uranium in +this sector at all. I think +we're crazy to keep on searching +out here!"</p> + +<p>I started to tell her that the +UranCo chief had assured me +we'd hit something out this +way, but changed my mind. +When Val's tired and overwrought +there's no sense in +arguing with her.</p> + +<p>I stared ahead at the bleak, +desolate wastes of the Martian +landscape. Behind us +somewhere was the comfort +of the Dome, ahead nothing +but the mazes and gullies of +this dead world.</p> + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="331" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +<b><small>He was a cripple in a wheelchair—helpless as a rattlesnake.</small></b></div> + +<p>"Try to keep going, Val." +My gloved hand reached out +and clumsily enfolded hers. +"Come on, kid. Remember—we're +doing this for Earth. +We're heroes."</p> + +<p>She glared at me. "Heroes, +hell!" she muttered. "That's +the way it looked back home, +but, out there it doesn't seem +so glorious. And UranCo's +pay is stinking."</p> + +<p>"We didn't come out here +for the pay, Val."</p> + +<p>"I know, I know, but just +the same—"</p> + +<p>It must have been hell for +her. We had wandered fruitlessly +over the red sands all +day, both of us listening for +the clicks of the counter. And +the geigers had been obstinately +hushed all day, except +for their constant undercurrent +of meaningless noises.</p> + +<p>Even though the Martian +gravity was only a fraction of +Earth's, I was starting to +tire, and I knew it must have +been really rough on Val with +her lovely but unrugged legs.</p> + +<p>"Heroes," she said bitterly. +"We're not heroes—we're +suckers! Why did I ever let +you volunteer for the Geig +Corps and drag me along?"</p> + +<p>Which wasn't anywhere +close to the truth. Now I +knew she was at the breaking +point, because Val didn't lie +unless she was so exhausted +she didn't know what she was +doing. She had been just as +much inflamed by the idea of +coming to Mars to help in the +search for uranium as I was. +We knew the pay was poor, +but we had felt it a sort of +obligation, something we +could do as individuals to +keep the industries of radioactives-starved +Earth going. +And we'd always had a roving +foot, both of us.</p> + +<p>No, we had decided together +to come to Mars—the +way we decided together on +everything. Now she was +turning against me.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>I tried to jolly her. "Buck +up, kid," I said. I didn't dare +turn up her oxy pressure any +higher, but it was obvious she +couldn't keep going. She was +almost sleep-walking now.</p> + +<p>We pressed on over the +barren terrain. The geiger +kept up a fairly steady click-pattern, +but never broke into +that sudden explosive tumult +that meant we had found pay-dirt. +I started to feel tired +myself, terribly tired. I longed +to lie down on the soft, +spongy Martian sand and +bury myself.</p> + +<p>I looked at Val. She was +dragging along with her eyes +half-shut. I felt almost guilty +for having dragged her out to +Mars, until I recalled that I +hadn't. In fact, she had come +up with the idea before I did. +I wished there was some way +of turning the weary, bedraggled +girl at my side back into +the Val who had so enthusiastically +suggested we join +the Geigs.</p> + +<p>Twelve steps later, I decided +this was about as far as +we could go.</p> + +<p>I stopped, slipped out of +the geiger harness, and lowered +myself ponderously to +the ground. "What'samatter, +Ron?" Val asked sleepily. +"Something wrong?"</p> + +<p>"No, baby," I said, putting +out a hand and taking hers. +"I think we ought to rest a +little before we go any further. +It's been a long, hard +day."</p> + +<p>It didn't take much to persuade +her. She slid down beside +me, curled up, and in a +moment she was fast asleep, +sprawled out on the sands.</p> + +<p><i>Poor kid</i>, I thought. Maybe +we shouldn't have come to +Mars after all. But, I reminded +myself, <i>someone</i> had to do +the job.</p> + +<p>A second thought appeared, +but I squelched it:</p> + +<p>Why the hell me?</p> + +<p>I looked down at Valerie's +sleeping form, and thought of +our warm, comfortable little +home on Earth. It wasn't +much, but people in love don't +need very fancy surroundings.</p> + +<p>I watched her, sleeping +peacefully, a wayward lock of +her soft blonde hair trailing +down over one eyebrow, and +it seemed hard to believe that +we'd exchanged Earth and all +it held for us for the raw, untamed +struggle that was Mars. +But I knew I'd do it again, if +I had the chance. It's because +we wanted to keep what we +had. Heroes? Hell, no. We +just liked our comforts, and +wanted to keep them. Which +took a little work.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>Time to get moving.</i> But +then Val stirred and rolled +over in her sleep, and I didn't +have the heart to wake her. I +sat there, holding her, staring +out over the desert, watching +the wind whip the sand up +into weird shapes.</p> + +<p>The Geig Corps preferred +married couples, working in +teams. That's what had finally +decided it for us—we were a +good team. We had no ties on +Earth that couldn't be broken +without much difficulty. So +we volunteered.</p> + +<p><i>And here we are.</i> Heroes. +The wind blasted a mass of +sand into my face, and I felt +it tinkle against the oxymask.</p> + +<p>I glanced at the suit-chronometer. +Getting late. I decided +once again to wake Val. +But she was tired. And I was +tired too, tired from our +wearying journey across the +empty desert.</p> + +<p>I started to shake Val. But +I never finished. It would be +<i>so</i> nice just to lean back and +nuzzle up to her, down in the +sand. So nice. I yawned, and +stretched back.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>I awoke with a sudden startled +shiver, and realized angrily +I had let myself doze off. +"Come on, Val," I said savagely, +and started to rise to +my feet.</p> + +<p>I couldn't.</p> + +<p>I looked down. I was neatly +bound in thin, tough, plastic +tangle-cord, swathed from +chin to boot-bottoms, my +arms imprisoned, my feet +caught. And tangle-cord is +about as easy to get out of as +a spider's web is for a trapped +fly.</p> + +<p>It wasn't Martians that +had done it. There weren't +any Martians, hadn't been for +a million years. It was some +Earthman who had bound us.</p> + +<p>I rolled my eyes toward +Val, and saw that she was +similarly trussed in the sticky +stuff. The tangle-cord was still +fresh, giving off a faint, repugnant +odor like that of drying +fish. It had been spun on +us only a short time ago, I +realized.</p> + +<p>"Ron—"</p> + +<p>"Don't try to move, baby. +This stuff can break your +neck if you twist it wrong." +She continued for a moment +to struggle futilely, and I had +to snap, "Lie still, Val!"</p> + +<p>"A very wise statement," +said a brittle, harsh voice +from above me. I looked up +and saw a helmeted figure +above us. He wasn't wearing +the customary skin-tight pliable +oxysuits we had. He +wore an outmoded, bulky +spacesuit and a fishbowl helmet, +all but the face area +opaque. The oxygen cannisters +weren't attached to his +back as expected, though. +They were strapped to the +back of the wheelchair in +which he sat.</p> + +<p>Through the fishbowl I +could see hard little eyes, a +yellowed, parchment-like face, +a grim-set jaw. I didn't recognize +him, and this struck me +odd. I thought I knew everyone +on sparsely-settled Mars. +Somehow I'd missed him.</p> + +<p>What shocked me most was +that he had no legs. The +spacesuit ended neatly at the +thighs.</p> + +<p>He was holding in his left +hand the tanglegun with +which he had entrapped us, +and a very efficient-looking +blaster was in his right.</p> + +<p>"I didn't want to disturb +your sleep," he said coldly. +"So I've been waiting here +for you to wake up."</p> + +<p>I could just see it. He might +have been sitting there for +hours, complacently waiting +to see how we'd wake up. +That was when I realized he +must be totally insane. I could +feel my stomach-muscles +tighten, my throat constrict +painfully.</p> + +<p>Then anger ripped through +me, washing away the terror. +"What's going on?" I demanded, +staring at the half +of a man who confronted us +from the wheelchair. "Who +are you?"</p> + +<p>"You'll find out soon +enough," he said. "Suppose +now you come with me." He +reached for the tanglegun, +flipped the little switch on its +side to MELT, and shot a +stream of watery fluid over +our legs, keeping the blaster +trained on us all the while. +Our legs were free.</p> + +<p>"You may get up now," he +said. "Slowly, without trying +to make trouble." Val and I +helped each other to our feet +as best we could, considering +our arms were still tightly +bound against the sides of our +oxysuits.</p> + +<p>"Walk," the stranger said, +waving the tanglegun to indicate +the direction. "I'll be +right behind you." He holstered +the tanglegun.</p> + +<p>I glimpsed the bulk of an +outboard atomic rigging behind +him, strapped to the +back of the wheelchair. He +fingered a knob on the arm of +the chair and the two exhaust +ducts behind the wheel-housings +flamed for a moment, +and the chair began to roll.</p> + +<p>Obediently, we started +walking. You don't argue +with a blaster, even if the +man pointing it is in a wheelchair.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"What's going on, Ron?" +Val asked in a low voice as we +walked. Behind us the wheelchair +hissed steadily.</p> + +<p>"I don't quite know, Val. +I've never seen this guy before, +and I thought I knew +everyone at the Dome."</p> + +<p>"Quiet up there!" our captor +called, and we stopped +talking. We trudged along together, +with him following +behind; I could hear the +<i>crunch-crunch</i> of the wheelchair +as its wheels chewed +into the sand. I wondered +where we were going, and +why. I wondered why we had +ever left Earth.</p> + +<p>The answer to that came to +me quick enough: we had to. +Earth needed radioactives, +and the only way to get them +was to get out and look. The +great atomic wars of the late +20th Century had used up +much of the supply, but the +amount used to blow up half +the great cities of the world +hardly compared with the +amount we needed to put +them back together again.</p> + +<p>In three centuries the shattered +world had been completely +rebuilt. The wreckage +of New York and Shanghai +and London and all the other +ruined cities had been hidden +by a shining new world of +gleaming towers and flying +roadways. We had profited by +our grandparents' mistakes. +They had used their atomics +to make bombs. We used ours +for fuel.</p> + +<p>It was an atomic world. +Everything: power drills, +printing presses, typewriters, +can openers, ocean liners, +powered by the inexhaustible +energy of the dividing atom.</p> + +<p>But though the energy is +inexhaustible, the supply of +nuclei isn't. After three centuries +of heavy consumption, +the supply failed. The mighty +machine that was Earth's industry +had started to slow +down.</p> + +<p>And that started the chain +of events that led Val and me +to end up as a madman's prisoners, +on Mars. With every +source of uranium mined dry +on Earth, we had tried other +possibilities. All sorts of +schemes came forth. Project +Sea-Dredge was trying to get +uranium from the oceans. In +forty or fifty years, they'd +get some results, we hoped. +But there wasn't forty or +fifty years' worth of raw stuff +to tide us over until then. In a +decade or so, our power would +be just about gone. I could +picture the sort of dog-eat-dog +world we'd revert back +to. Millions of starving, freezing +humans tooth-and-clawing +in it in the useless shell of +a great atomic civilization.</p> + +<p>So, Mars. There's not much +uranium on Mars, and it's not +easy to find or any cinch to +mine. But what little is there, +helps. It's a stopgap effort, +just to keep things moving +until Project Sea-Dredge +starts functioning.</p> + +<p>Enter the Geig Corps: volunteers +out on the face of +Mars, combing for its uranium +deposits.</p> + +<p>And here we are, I thought.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>After we walked on a +while, a Dome became visible +up ahead. It slid up over the +crest of a hill, set back between +two hummocks on the +desert. Just out of the way +enough to escape observation.</p> + +<p>For a puzzled moment I +thought it was our Dome, the +settlement where all of UranCo's +Geig Corps were located, +but another look told me that +this was actually quite near +us and fairly small. A one-man +Dome, of all things!</p> + +<p>"Welcome to my home," he +said. "The name is Gregory +Ledman." He herded us off to +one side of the airlock, uttered +a few words keyed to his +voice, and motioned us inside +when the door slid up. When +we were inside he reached up, +clumsily holding the blaster, +and unscrewed the ancient +spacesuit fishbowl.</p> + +<p>His face was a bitter, +dried-up mask. He was a man +who hated.</p> + +<p>The place was spartanly +furnished. No chairs, no tape-player, +no decoration of any +sort. Hard bulkhead walls, +rivet-studded, glared back +at us. He had an automatic +chef, a bed, and a writing-desk, +and no other furniture.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he drew the tanglegun +and sprayed our legs +again. We toppled heavily to +the floor. I looked up angrily.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"I imagine you want to +know the whole story," he +said. "The others did, too."</p> + +<p>Valerie looked at me anxiously. +Her pretty face was a +dead white behind her oxymask. +"What others?"</p> + +<p>"I never bothered to find +out their names," Ledman +said casually. "They were +other Geigs I caught unawares, +like you, out on the +desert. That's the only sport I +have left—Geig-hunting. Look +out there."</p> + +<p>He gestured through the +translucent skin of the Dome, +and I felt sick. There was a +little heap of bones lying +there, looking oddly bright +against the redness of the +sands. They were the dried, +parched skeletons of Earthmen. +Bits of cloth and plastic, +once oxymasks and suits, still +clung to them.</p> + +<p>Suddenly I remembered. +There had been a pattern +there all the time. We didn't +much talk about it; we chalked +it off as occupational hazards. +There had been a pattern +of disappearances on the desert. +I could think of six, eight +names now. None of them +had been particularly close +friends. You don't get time to +make close friends out here. +But we'd vowed it wouldn't +happen to us.</p> + +<p>It had.</p> + +<p>"You've been hunting +Geigs?" I asked. "<i>Why?</i> +What've they ever done to +you?"</p> + +<p>He smiled, as calmly as if +I'd just praised his house-keeping. +"Because I hate +you," he said blandly. "I intend +to wipe every last one of +you out, one by one."</p> + +<p>I stared at him. I'd never +seen a man like this before; I +thought all his kind had died +at the time of the atomic +wars.</p> + +<p>I heard Val sob, "He's a +madman!"</p> + +<p>"No," Ledman said evenly. +"I'm quite sane, believe me. +But I'm determined to drive +the Geigs—and UranCo—off +Mars. Eventually I'll scare +you all away."</p> + +<p>"Just pick us off in the desert?"</p> + +<p>"Exactly," replied Ledman. +"And I have no fears of an +armed attack. This place is +well fortified. I've devoted +years to building it. And I'm +back against those hills. They +couldn't pry me out." He let +his pale hand run up into his +gnarled hair. "I've devoted +years to this. Ever since—ever +since I landed here on +Mars."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"What are you going to do +with us?" Val finally asked, +after a long silence.</p> + +<p>He didn't smile this time. +"Kill you," he told her. "Not +your husband. I want him as +an envoy, to go back and tell +the others to clear off." He +rocked back and forth in his +wheelchair, toying with the +gleaming, deadly blaster in +his hand.</p> + +<p>We stared in horror. It was +a nightmare—sitting there, +placidly rocking back and +forth, a nightmare.</p> + +<p>I found myself fervently +wishing I was back out there +on the infinitely safer desert.</p> + +<p>"Do I shock you?" he asked. +"I shouldn't—not when +you see my motives."</p> + +<p>"We don't see them," I +snapped.</p> + +<p>"Well, let me show you. +You're on Mars hunting uranium, +right? To mine and +ship the radioactives back to +Earth to keep the atomic engines +going. Right?"</p> + +<p>I nodded over at our geiger +counters.</p> + +<p>"We volunteered to come to +Mars," Val said irrelevantly.</p> + +<p>"Ah—two young heroes," +Ledman said acidly. "How +sad. I could almost feel sorry +for you. Almost."</p> + +<p>"Just what is it you're +after?" I said, stalling, stalling.</p> + +<p>"Atomics cost me my legs," +he said. "You remember the +Sadlerville Blast?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Of course." And I did, too. +I'd never forget it. No one +would. How could I forget +that great accident—killing +hundreds, injuring thousands +more, sterilizing forty miles +of Mississippi land—when +the Sadlerville pile went up?</p> + +<p>"I was there on business at +the time," Ledman said. "I +represented Ledman Atomics. +I was there to sign a new +contract for my company. +You know who I am, now?"</p> + +<p>I nodded.</p> + +<p>"I was fairly well shielded +when it happened. I never got +the contract, but I got a good +dose of radiation instead. Not +enough to kill me," he said. +"Just enough to necessitate +the removal of—" he indicated +the empty space at his +thighs. "So I got off lightly." +He gestured at the wheelchair +blanket.</p> + +<p>I still didn't understand. +"But why kill us Geigs? <i>We</i> +had nothing to do with it."</p> + +<p>"You're just in this by accident," +he said. "You see, after +the explosion and the amputation, +my fellow-members on +the board of Ledman Atomics +decided that a semi-basket +case like myself was a poor +risk as Head of the Board, +and they took my company +away. All quite legal, I assure +you. They left me almost a +pauper!" Then he snapped +the punchline at me.</p> + +<p>"They renamed Ledman +Atomics. Who did you say you +worked for?"</p> + +<p>I began, "Uran—"</p> + +<p>"Don't bother. A more inventive +title than Ledman +Atomics, but not quite as +much heart, wouldn't you +say?" He grinned. "I saved +for years; then I came to +Mars, lost myself, built this +Dome, and swore to get even. +There's not a great deal of +uranium on this planet, but +enough to keep me in a style +to which, unfortunately, I'm +no longer accustomed."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He consulted his wrist +watch. "Time for my injection." +He pulled out the tanglegun +and sprayed us again, +just to make doubly certain. +"That's another little souvenir +of Sadlerville. I'm short +on red blood corpuscles."</p> + +<p>He rolled over to a wall +table and fumbled in a container +among a pile of hypodermics. +"There are other injections, +too. Adrenalin, insulin. +Others. The Blast turned +me into a walking pin-cushion. +But I'll pay it all +back," he said. He plunged +the needle into his arm.</p> + +<p>My eyes widened. It was +too nightmarish to be real. I +wasn't seriously worried +about his threat to wipe out +the entire Geig Corps, since +it was unlikely that one man +in a wheelchair could pick us +all off. No, it wasn't the +threat that disturbed me, so +much as the whole concept, so +strange to me, that the human +mind could be as warped +and twisted as Ledman's.</p> + +<p>I saw the horror on Val's +face, and I knew she felt the +same way I did.</p> + +<p>"Do you really think you +can succeed?" I taunted him. +"Really think you can kill +every Earthman on Mars? Of +all the insane, cockeyed—"</p> + +<p>Val's quick, worried head-shake +cut me off. But Ledman +had felt my words, all right.</p> + +<p>"Yes! I'll get even with +every one of you for taking +away my legs! If we hadn't +meddled with the atom in the +first place, I'd be as tall and +powerful as you, today—instead +of a useless cripple in a +wheelchair."</p> + +<p>"You're sick, Gregory Ledman," +Val said quietly. +"You've conceived an impossible +scheme of revenge and +now you're taking it out on +innocent people who've done +nothing, nothing at all to you. +That's not sane!"</p> + +<p>His eyes blazed. "Who are +you to talk of sanity?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Uneasily I caught Val's +glance from a corner of my +eye. Sweat was rolling down +her smooth forehead faster +than the auto-wiper could +swab it away.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you do something? +What are you waiting +for, Ron?"</p> + +<p>"Easy, baby," I said. I +knew what our ace in the hole +was. But I had to get Ledman +within reach of me first.</p> + +<p>"Enough," he said. "I'm going +to turn you loose outside, +right after—"</p> + +<p>"<i>Get sick!</i>" I hissed to Val, +low. She began immediately +to cough violently, emitting +harsh, choking sobs. "Can't +breathe!" She began to yell, +writhing in her bonds.</p> + +<p>That did it. Ledman hadn't +much humanity left in him, +but there was a little. He lowered +the blaster a bit and +wheeled one-hand over to see +what was wrong with Val. +She continued to retch and +moan most horribly. It almost +convinced me. I saw Val's +pale, frightened face turn to +me.</p> + +<p>He approached and peered +down at her. He opened his +mouth to say something, and +at that moment I snapped my +leg up hard, tearing the tangle-cord +with a snicking rasp, +and kicked his wheelchair +over.</p> + +<p>The blaster went off, burning +a hole through the Dome +roof. The automatic sealers +glued-in instantly. Ledman +went sprawling helplessly out +into the middle of the floor, +the wheelchair upended next +to him, its wheels slowly revolving +in the air. The blaster +flew from his hands at the +impact of landing and spun +out near me. In one quick motion +I rolled over and covered +it with my body.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Ledman clawed his way to +me with tremendous effort +and tried wildly to pry the +blaster out from under me, +but without success. I twisted +a bit, reached out with my +free leg, and booted him +across the floor. He fetched +up against the wall of the +Dome and lay there.</p> + +<p>Val rolled over to me.</p> + +<p>"Now if I could get free of +this stuff," I said, "I could get +him covered before he comes +to. But how?"</p> + +<p>"Teamwork," Val said. She +swivelled around on the floor +until her head was near my +boot. "Push my oxymask off +with your foot, if you can."</p> + +<p>I searched for the clamp +and tried to flip it. No luck, +with my heavy, clumsy boot. +I tried again, and this time it +snapped open. I got the tip +of my boot in and pried upward. +The oxymask came off, +slowly, scraping a jagged red +scratch up the side of Val's +neck as it came.</p> + +<p>"There," she breathed. +"That's that."</p> + +<p>I looked uneasily at Ledman. +He was groaning and +beginning to stir.</p> + +<p>Val rolled on the floor and +her face lay near my right +arm. I saw what she had in +mind. She began to nibble the +vile-tasting tangle-cord, running +her teeth up and down +it until it started to give. She +continued unfailingly.</p> + +<p>Finally one strand snapped. +Then another. At last I +had enough use of my hand +to reach out and grasp the +blaster. Then I pulled myself +across the floor to Ledman, +removed the tanglegun, and +melted the remaining tangle-cord +off.</p> + +<p>My muscles were stiff and +bunched, and rising made me +wince. I turned and freed Val. +Then I turned and faced Ledman.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you'll kill me +now," he said.</p> + +<p>"No. That's the difference +between sane people and insane," +I told him. "I'm not +going to kill you at all. I'm +going to see to it that you're +sent back to Earth."</p> + +<p>"<i>No!</i>" he shouted. "No! +Anything but back there. I +don't want to face them again—not +after what they did to +me—"</p> + +<p>"Not so loud," I broke in. +"They'll help you on Earth. +They'll take all the hatred and +sickness out of you, and turn +you into a useful member of +society again."</p> + +<p>"I hate Earthmen," he spat +out. "I hate all of them."</p> + +<p>"I know," I said sarcastically. +"You're just all full of +hate. You hated us so much +that you couldn't bear to hang +around on Earth for as much +as a year after the Sadlerville +Blast. You had to take right +off for Mars without a moment's +delay, didn't you? You +hated Earth so much you <i>had</i> +to leave."</p> + +<p>"Why are you telling all +this to me?"</p> + +<p>"Because if you'd stayed +long enough, you'd have used +some of your pension money +to buy yourself a pair of prosthetic +legs, and then you +wouldn't need this wheelchair."</p> + +<p>Ledman scowled, and then +his face went belligerent +again. "They told me I was +paralyzed below the waist. +That I'd never walk again, +even with prosthetic legs, because +I had no muscles to fit +them to."</p> + +<p>"You left Earth too quickly," +Val said.</p> + +<p>"It was the only way," he +protested. "I had to get off—"</p> + +<p>"She's right," I told him. +"The atom can take away, but +it can give as well. Soon after +you left they developed +<i>atomic-powered</i> prosthetics—amazing +things, virtually robot +legs. All the survivors of +the Sadlerville Blast were +given the necessary replacement +limbs free of charge. All +except you. You were so sick +you had to get away from the +world you despised and come +here."</p> + +<p>"You're lying," he said. +"It's not true!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, but it is," Val smiled.</p> + +<p>I saw him wilt visibly, and +for a moment I almost felt +sorry for him, a pathetic legless +figure propped up against +the wall of the Dome at +blaster-point. But then I remembered +he'd killed twelve +Geigs—or more—and would +have added Val to the number +had he had the chance.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"You're a very sick man, +Ledman," I said. "All this +time you could have been +happy, useful on Earth, instead +of being holed up here +nursing your hatred. You +might have been useful, on +Earth. But you decided to +channel everything out as revenge."</p> + +<p>"I still don't believe it—those +legs. I might have walked +again. No—no, it's all a lie. +They told me I'd never walk," +he said, weakly but stubbornly +still.</p> + +<p>I could see his whole structure +of hate starting to topple, +and I decided to give it +the final push.</p> + +<p>"Haven't you wondered +how I managed to break the +tangle-cord when I kicked you +over?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—human legs aren't +strong enough to break tangle-cord +that way."</p> + +<p>"Of course not," I said. I +gave Val the blaster and slipped +out of my oxysuit. +"Look," I said. I pointed to +my smooth, gleaming metal +legs. The almost soundless +purr of their motors was the +only noise in the room. "I was +in the Sadlerville Blast, too," +I said. "But I didn't go crazy +with hate when I lost <i>my</i> +legs."</p> + +<p>Ledman was sobbing.</p> + +<p>"Okay, Ledman," I said. +Val got him into his suit, and +brought him the fishbowl helmet. +"Get your helmet on and +let's go. Between the psychs +and the prosthetics men, +you'll be a new man inside of +a year."</p> + +<p>"But I'm a murderer!"</p> + +<p>"That's right. And you'll be +sentenced to psych adjustment. +When they're finished, +Gregory Ledman the killer +will be as dead as if they'd +electrocuted you, but there'll +be a new—and sane—Gregory +Ledman." I turned to Val.</p> + +<p>"Got the geigers, honey?"</p> + +<p>For the first time since +Ledman had caught us, I remembered +how tired Val had +been out on the desert. I realized +now that I had been driving +her mercilessly—me, with +my chromium legs and atomic-powered +muscles. No wonder +she was ready to fold! +And I'd been too dense to see +how unfair I had been.</p> + +<p>She lifted the geiger harnesses, +and I put Ledman +back in his wheelchair.</p> + +<p>Val slipped her oxymask +back on and fastened it shut.</p> + +<p>"Let's get back to the Dome +in a hurry," I said. "We'll +turn Ledman over to the authorities. +Then we can catch +the next ship for Earth."</p> + +<p>"Go back? <i>Go back?</i> If you +think I'm backing down now +and quitting you can find +yourself another wife! After +we dump this guy I'm sacking +in for twenty hours, and then +we're going back out there to +finish that search-pattern. +Earth needs uranium, honey, +and I know you'd never be +happy quitting in the middle +like that." She smiled. "I +can't wait to get out there +and start listening for those +tell-tale clicks."</p> + +<p>I gave a joyful whoop and +swung her around. When I +put her down, she squeezed +my hand, hard.</p> + +<p>"Let's get moving, fellow +hero," she said.</p> + +<p>I pressed the stud for the +airlock, smiling.</p> + +<p class="theend"><b>THE END</b></p> + +<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b><br /> +This etext was produced from <i>Amazing Stories</i> September 1956. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunted Heroes, by Robert Silverberg + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNTED HEROES *** + +***** This file should be named 25627-h.htm or 25627-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/6/2/25627/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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 + + +Title: The Hunted Heroes + +Author: Robert Silverberg + +Release Date: May 27, 2008 [EBook #25627] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNTED HEROES *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + THE + HUNTED + HEROES + + By ROBERT SILVERBERG + + + _The planet itself was tough enough--barren, desolate, + forbidding; enough to stop the most adventurous and + dedicated. But they had to run head-on against a mad + genius who had a motto:_ + + _Death to all Terrans!_ + + +"Let's keep moving," I told Val. "The surest way to die out here on Mars +is to give up." I reached over and turned up the pressure on her oxymask +to make things a little easier for her. Through the glassite of the +mask, I could see her face contorted in an agony of fatigue. + +And she probably thought the failure of the sandcat was all my fault, +too. Val's usually about the best wife a guy could ask for, but when she +wants to be she can be a real flying bother. + +It was beyond her to see that some grease monkey back at the Dome was at +fault--whoever it was who had failed to fasten down the engine hood. +Nothing but what had stopped us _could_ stop a sandcat: sand in the +delicate mechanism of the atomic engine. + +But no; she blamed it all on me somehow: So we were out walking on the +spongy sand of the Martian desert. We'd been walking a good eight hours. + +"Can't we turn back now, Ron?" Val pleaded. "Maybe there isn't any +uranium in this sector at all. I think we're crazy to keep on searching +out here!" + +I started to tell her that the UranCo chief had assured me we'd hit +something out this way, but changed my mind. When Val's tired and +overwrought there's no sense in arguing with her. + +I stared ahead at the bleak, desolate wastes of the Martian landscape. +Behind us somewhere was the comfort of the Dome, ahead nothing but the +mazes and gullies of this dead world. + +[Illustration: He was a cripple in a wheelchair--helpless as a +rattlesnake.] + +"Try to keep going, Val." My gloved hand reached out and clumsily +enfolded hers. "Come on, kid. Remember--we're doing this for Earth. +We're heroes." + +She glared at me. "Heroes, hell!" she muttered. "That's the way it +looked back home, but, out there it doesn't seem so glorious. And +UranCo's pay is stinking." + +"We didn't come out here for the pay, Val." + +"I know, I know, but just the same--" + +It must have been hell for her. We had wandered fruitlessly over the red +sands all day, both of us listening for the clicks of the counter. And +the geigers had been obstinately hushed all day, except for their +constant undercurrent of meaningless noises. + +Even though the Martian gravity was only a fraction of Earth's, I was +starting to tire, and I knew it must have been really rough on Val with +her lovely but unrugged legs. + +"Heroes," she said bitterly. "We're not heroes--we're suckers! Why did I +ever let you volunteer for the Geig Corps and drag me along?" + +Which wasn't anywhere close to the truth. Now I knew she was at the +breaking point, because Val didn't lie unless she was so exhausted she +didn't know what she was doing. She had been just as much inflamed by +the idea of coming to Mars to help in the search for uranium as I was. +We knew the pay was poor, but we had felt it a sort of obligation, +something we could do as individuals to keep the industries of +radioactives-starved Earth going. And we'd always had a roving foot, +both of us. + +No, we had decided together to come to Mars--the way we decided together +on everything. Now she was turning against me. + + * * * * * + +I tried to jolly her. "Buck up, kid," I said. I didn't dare turn up her +oxy pressure any higher, but it was obvious she couldn't keep going. She +was almost sleep-walking now. + +We pressed on over the barren terrain. The geiger kept up a fairly +steady click-pattern, but never broke into that sudden explosive tumult +that meant we had found pay-dirt. I started to feel tired myself, +terribly tired. I longed to lie down on the soft, spongy Martian sand +and bury myself. + +I looked at Val. She was dragging along with her eyes half-shut. I felt +almost guilty for having dragged her out to Mars, until I recalled that +I hadn't. In fact, she had come up with the idea before I did. I wished +there was some way of turning the weary, bedraggled girl at my side back +into the Val who had so enthusiastically suggested we join the Geigs. + +Twelve steps later, I decided this was about as far as we could go. + +I stopped, slipped out of the geiger harness, and lowered myself +ponderously to the ground. "What'samatter, Ron?" Val asked sleepily. +"Something wrong?" + +"No, baby," I said, putting out a hand and taking hers. "I think we +ought to rest a little before we go any further. It's been a long, hard +day." + +It didn't take much to persuade her. She slid down beside me, curled up, +and in a moment she was fast asleep, sprawled out on the sands. + +_Poor kid_, I thought. Maybe we shouldn't have come to Mars after all. +But, I reminded myself, _someone_ had to do the job. + +A second thought appeared, but I squelched it: + +Why the hell me? + +I looked down at Valerie's sleeping form, and thought of our warm, +comfortable little home on Earth. It wasn't much, but people in love +don't need very fancy surroundings. + +I watched her, sleeping peacefully, a wayward lock of her soft blonde +hair trailing down over one eyebrow, and it seemed hard to believe that +we'd exchanged Earth and all it held for us for the raw, untamed +struggle that was Mars. But I knew I'd do it again, if I had the chance. +It's because we wanted to keep what we had. Heroes? Hell, no. We just +liked our comforts, and wanted to keep them. Which took a little work. + + * * * * * + +_Time to get moving._ But then Val stirred and rolled over in her sleep, +and I didn't have the heart to wake her. I sat there, holding her, +staring out over the desert, watching the wind whip the sand up into +weird shapes. + +The Geig Corps preferred married couples, working in teams. That's what +had finally decided it for us--we were a good team. We had no ties on +Earth that couldn't be broken without much difficulty. So we +volunteered. + +_And here we are._ Heroes. The wind blasted a mass of sand into my face, +and I felt it tinkle against the oxymask. + +I glanced at the suit-chronometer. Getting late. I decided once again to +wake Val. But she was tired. And I was tired too, tired from our +wearying journey across the empty desert. + +I started to shake Val. But I never finished. It would be _so_ nice just +to lean back and nuzzle up to her, down in the sand. So nice. I yawned, +and stretched back. + + * * * * * + +I awoke with a sudden startled shiver, and realized angrily I had let +myself doze off. "Come on, Val," I said savagely, and started to rise to +my feet. + +I couldn't. + +I looked down. I was neatly bound in thin, tough, plastic tangle-cord, +swathed from chin to boot-bottoms, my arms imprisoned, my feet caught. +And tangle-cord is about as easy to get out of as a spider's web is for +a trapped fly. + +It wasn't Martians that had done it. There weren't any Martians, hadn't +been for a million years. It was some Earthman who had bound us. + +I rolled my eyes toward Val, and saw that she was similarly trussed in +the sticky stuff. The tangle-cord was still fresh, giving off a faint, +repugnant odor like that of drying fish. It had been spun on us only a +short time ago, I realized. + +"Ron--" + +"Don't try to move, baby. This stuff can break your neck if you twist it +wrong." She continued for a moment to struggle futilely, and I had to +snap, "Lie still, Val!" + +"A very wise statement," said a brittle, harsh voice from above me. I +looked up and saw a helmeted figure above us. He wasn't wearing the +customary skin-tight pliable oxysuits we had. He wore an outmoded, bulky +spacesuit and a fishbowl helmet, all but the face area opaque. The +oxygen cannisters weren't attached to his back as expected, though. They +were strapped to the back of the wheelchair in which he sat. + +Through the fishbowl I could see hard little eyes, a yellowed, +parchment-like face, a grim-set jaw. I didn't recognize him, and this +struck me odd. I thought I knew everyone on sparsely-settled Mars. +Somehow I'd missed him. + +What shocked me most was that he had no legs. The spacesuit ended neatly +at the thighs. + +He was holding in his left hand the tanglegun with which he had +entrapped us, and a very efficient-looking blaster was in his right. + +"I didn't want to disturb your sleep," he said coldly. "So I've been +waiting here for you to wake up." + +I could just see it. He might have been sitting there for hours, +complacently waiting to see how we'd wake up. That was when I realized +he must be totally insane. I could feel my stomach-muscles tighten, my +throat constrict painfully. + +Then anger ripped through me, washing away the terror. "What's going +on?" I demanded, staring at the half of a man who confronted us from the +wheelchair. "Who are you?" + +"You'll find out soon enough," he said. "Suppose now you come with me." +He reached for the tanglegun, flipped the little switch on its side to +MELT, and shot a stream of watery fluid over our legs, keeping the +blaster trained on us all the while. Our legs were free. + +"You may get up now," he said. "Slowly, without trying to make trouble." +Val and I helped each other to our feet as best we could, considering +our arms were still tightly bound against the sides of our oxysuits. + +"Walk," the stranger said, waving the tanglegun to indicate the +direction. "I'll be right behind you." He holstered the tanglegun. + +I glimpsed the bulk of an outboard atomic rigging behind him, strapped +to the back of the wheelchair. He fingered a knob on the arm of the +chair and the two exhaust ducts behind the wheel-housings flamed for a +moment, and the chair began to roll. + +Obediently, we started walking. You don't argue with a blaster, even if +the man pointing it is in a wheelchair. + + * * * * * + +"What's going on, Ron?" Val asked in a low voice as we walked. Behind us +the wheelchair hissed steadily. + +"I don't quite know, Val. I've never seen this guy before, and I thought +I knew everyone at the Dome." + +"Quiet up there!" our captor called, and we stopped talking. We trudged +along together, with him following behind; I could hear the +_crunch-crunch_ of the wheelchair as its wheels chewed into the sand. I +wondered where we were going, and why. I wondered why we had ever left +Earth. + +The answer to that came to me quick enough: we had to. Earth needed +radioactives, and the only way to get them was to get out and look. The +great atomic wars of the late 20th Century had used up much of the +supply, but the amount used to blow up half the great cities of the +world hardly compared with the amount we needed to put them back +together again. + +In three centuries the shattered world had been completely rebuilt. The +wreckage of New York and Shanghai and London and all the other ruined +cities had been hidden by a shining new world of gleaming towers and +flying roadways. We had profited by our grandparents' mistakes. They had +used their atomics to make bombs. We used ours for fuel. + +It was an atomic world. Everything: power drills, printing presses, +typewriters, can openers, ocean liners, powered by the inexhaustible +energy of the dividing atom. + +But though the energy is inexhaustible, the supply of nuclei isn't. +After three centuries of heavy consumption, the supply failed. The +mighty machine that was Earth's industry had started to slow down. + +And that started the chain of events that led Val and me to end up as a +madman's prisoners, on Mars. With every source of uranium mined dry on +Earth, we had tried other possibilities. All sorts of schemes came +forth. Project Sea-Dredge was trying to get uranium from the oceans. In +forty or fifty years, they'd get some results, we hoped. But there +wasn't forty or fifty years' worth of raw stuff to tide us over until +then. In a decade or so, our power would be just about gone. I could +picture the sort of dog-eat-dog world we'd revert back to. Millions of +starving, freezing humans tooth-and-clawing in it in the useless shell +of a great atomic civilization. + +So, Mars. There's not much uranium on Mars, and it's not easy to find or +any cinch to mine. But what little is there, helps. It's a stopgap +effort, just to keep things moving until Project Sea-Dredge starts +functioning. + +Enter the Geig Corps: volunteers out on the face of Mars, combing for +its uranium deposits. + +And here we are, I thought. + + * * * * * + +After we walked on a while, a Dome became visible up ahead. It slid up +over the crest of a hill, set back between two hummocks on the desert. +Just out of the way enough to escape observation. + +For a puzzled moment I thought it was our Dome, the settlement where +all of UranCo's Geig Corps were located, but another look told me that +this was actually quite near us and fairly small. A one-man Dome, of all +things! + +"Welcome to my home," he said. "The name is Gregory Ledman." He herded +us off to one side of the airlock, uttered a few words keyed to his +voice, and motioned us inside when the door slid up. When we were inside +he reached up, clumsily holding the blaster, and unscrewed the ancient +spacesuit fishbowl. + +His face was a bitter, dried-up mask. He was a man who hated. + +The place was spartanly furnished. No chairs, no tape-player, no +decoration of any sort. Hard bulkhead walls, rivet-studded, glared back +at us. He had an automatic chef, a bed, and a writing-desk, and no other +furniture. + +Suddenly he drew the tanglegun and sprayed our legs again. We toppled +heavily to the floor. I looked up angrily. + + * * * * * + +"I imagine you want to know the whole story," he said. "The others did, +too." + +Valerie looked at me anxiously. Her pretty face was a dead white behind +her oxymask. "What others?" + +"I never bothered to find out their names," Ledman said casually. "They +were other Geigs I caught unawares, like you, out on the desert. That's +the only sport I have left--Geig-hunting. Look out there." + +He gestured through the translucent skin of the Dome, and I felt sick. +There was a little heap of bones lying there, looking oddly bright +against the redness of the sands. They were the dried, parched skeletons +of Earthmen. Bits of cloth and plastic, once oxymasks and suits, still +clung to them. + +Suddenly I remembered. There had been a pattern there all the time. We +didn't much talk about it; we chalked it off as occupational hazards. +There had been a pattern of disappearances on the desert. I could think +of six, eight names now. None of them had been particularly close +friends. You don't get time to make close friends out here. But we'd +vowed it wouldn't happen to us. + +It had. + +"You've been hunting Geigs?" I asked. "_Why?_ What've they ever done to +you?" + +He smiled, as calmly as if I'd just praised his house-keeping. "Because +I hate you," he said blandly. "I intend to wipe every last one of you +out, one by one." + +I stared at him. I'd never seen a man like this before; I thought all +his kind had died at the time of the atomic wars. + +I heard Val sob, "He's a madman!" + +"No," Ledman said evenly. "I'm quite sane, believe me. But I'm +determined to drive the Geigs--and UranCo--off Mars. Eventually I'll +scare you all away." + +"Just pick us off in the desert?" + +"Exactly," replied Ledman. "And I have no fears of an armed attack. This +place is well fortified. I've devoted years to building it. And I'm back +against those hills. They couldn't pry me out." He let his pale hand run +up into his gnarled hair. "I've devoted years to this. Ever since--ever +since I landed here on Mars." + + * * * * * + +"What are you going to do with us?" Val finally asked, after a long +silence. + +He didn't smile this time. "Kill you," he told her. "Not your husband. I +want him as an envoy, to go back and tell the others to clear off." He +rocked back and forth in his wheelchair, toying with the gleaming, +deadly blaster in his hand. + +We stared in horror. It was a nightmare--sitting there, placidly rocking +back and forth, a nightmare. + +I found myself fervently wishing I was back out there on the infinitely +safer desert. + +"Do I shock you?" he asked. "I shouldn't--not when you see my motives." + +"We don't see them," I snapped. + +"Well, let me show you. You're on Mars hunting uranium, right? To mine +and ship the radioactives back to Earth to keep the atomic engines +going. Right?" + +I nodded over at our geiger counters. + +"We volunteered to come to Mars," Val said irrelevantly. + +"Ah--two young heroes," Ledman said acidly. "How sad. I could almost +feel sorry for you. Almost." + +"Just what is it you're after?" I said, stalling, stalling. + +"Atomics cost me my legs," he said. "You remember the Sadlerville +Blast?" he asked. + +"Of course." And I did, too. I'd never forget it. No one would. How +could I forget that great accident--killing hundreds, injuring thousands +more, sterilizing forty miles of Mississippi land--when the Sadlerville +pile went up? + +"I was there on business at the time," Ledman said. "I represented +Ledman Atomics. I was there to sign a new contract for my company. You +know who I am, now?" + +I nodded. + +"I was fairly well shielded when it happened. I never got the contract, +but I got a good dose of radiation instead. Not enough to kill me," he +said. "Just enough to necessitate the removal of--" he indicated the +empty space at his thighs. "So I got off lightly." He gestured at the +wheelchair blanket. + +I still didn't understand. "But why kill us Geigs? _We_ had nothing to +do with it." + +"You're just in this by accident," he said. "You see, after the +explosion and the amputation, my fellow-members on the board of Ledman +Atomics decided that a semi-basket case like myself was a poor risk as +Head of the Board, and they took my company away. All quite legal, I +assure you. They left me almost a pauper!" Then he snapped the punchline +at me. + +"They renamed Ledman Atomics. Who did you say you worked for?" + +I began, "Uran--" + +"Don't bother. A more inventive title than Ledman Atomics, but not +quite as much heart, wouldn't you say?" He grinned. "I saved for years; +then I came to Mars, lost myself, built this Dome, and swore to get +even. There's not a great deal of uranium on this planet, but enough to +keep me in a style to which, unfortunately, I'm no longer accustomed." + + * * * * * + +He consulted his wrist watch. "Time for my injection." He pulled out the +tanglegun and sprayed us again, just to make doubly certain. "That's +another little souvenir of Sadlerville. I'm short on red blood +corpuscles." + +He rolled over to a wall table and fumbled in a container among a pile +of hypodermics. "There are other injections, too. Adrenalin, insulin. +Others. The Blast turned me into a walking pin-cushion. But I'll pay it +all back," he said. He plunged the needle into his arm. + +My eyes widened. It was too nightmarish to be real. I wasn't seriously +worried about his threat to wipe out the entire Geig Corps, since it was +unlikely that one man in a wheelchair could pick us all off. No, it +wasn't the threat that disturbed me, so much as the whole concept, so +strange to me, that the human mind could be as warped and twisted as +Ledman's. + +I saw the horror on Val's face, and I knew she felt the same way I did. + +"Do you really think you can succeed?" I taunted him. "Really think you +can kill every Earthman on Mars? Of all the insane, cockeyed--" + +Val's quick, worried head-shake cut me off. But Ledman had felt my +words, all right. + +"Yes! I'll get even with every one of you for taking away my legs! If we +hadn't meddled with the atom in the first place, I'd be as tall and +powerful as you, today--instead of a useless cripple in a wheelchair." + +"You're sick, Gregory Ledman," Val said quietly. "You've conceived an +impossible scheme of revenge and now you're taking it out on innocent +people who've done nothing, nothing at all to you. That's not sane!" + +His eyes blazed. "Who are you to talk of sanity?" + + * * * * * + +Uneasily I caught Val's glance from a corner of my eye. Sweat was +rolling down her smooth forehead faster than the auto-wiper could swab +it away. + +"Why don't you do something? What are you waiting for, Ron?" + +"Easy, baby," I said. I knew what our ace in the hole was. But I had to +get Ledman within reach of me first. + +"Enough," he said. "I'm going to turn you loose outside, right after--" + +"_Get sick!_" I hissed to Val, low. She began immediately to cough +violently, emitting harsh, choking sobs. "Can't breathe!" She began to +yell, writhing in her bonds. + +That did it. Ledman hadn't much humanity left in him, but there was a +little. He lowered the blaster a bit and wheeled one-hand over to see +what was wrong with Val. She continued to retch and moan most horribly. +It almost convinced me. I saw Val's pale, frightened face turn to me. + +He approached and peered down at her. He opened his mouth to say +something, and at that moment I snapped my leg up hard, tearing the +tangle-cord with a snicking rasp, and kicked his wheelchair over. + +The blaster went off, burning a hole through the Dome roof. The +automatic sealers glued-in instantly. Ledman went sprawling helplessly +out into the middle of the floor, the wheelchair upended next to him, +its wheels slowly revolving in the air. The blaster flew from his hands +at the impact of landing and spun out near me. In one quick motion I +rolled over and covered it with my body. + + * * * * * + +Ledman clawed his way to me with tremendous effort and tried wildly to +pry the blaster out from under me, but without success. I twisted a bit, +reached out with my free leg, and booted him across the floor. He +fetched up against the wall of the Dome and lay there. + +Val rolled over to me. + +"Now if I could get free of this stuff," I said, "I could get him +covered before he comes to. But how?" + +"Teamwork," Val said. She swivelled around on the floor until her head +was near my boot. "Push my oxymask off with your foot, if you can." + +I searched for the clamp and tried to flip it. No luck, with my heavy, +clumsy boot. I tried again, and this time it snapped open. I got the tip +of my boot in and pried upward. The oxymask came off, slowly, scraping a +jagged red scratch up the side of Val's neck as it came. + +"There," she breathed. "That's that." + +I looked uneasily at Ledman. He was groaning and beginning to stir. + +Val rolled on the floor and her face lay near my right arm. I saw what +she had in mind. She began to nibble the vile-tasting tangle-cord, +running her teeth up and down it until it started to give. She continued +unfailingly. + +Finally one strand snapped. Then another. At last I had enough use of my +hand to reach out and grasp the blaster. Then I pulled myself across the +floor to Ledman, removed the tanglegun, and melted the remaining +tangle-cord off. + +My muscles were stiff and bunched, and rising made me wince. I turned +and freed Val. Then I turned and faced Ledman. + +"I suppose you'll kill me now," he said. + +"No. That's the difference between sane people and insane," I told him. +"I'm not going to kill you at all. I'm going to see to it that you're +sent back to Earth." + +"_No!_" he shouted. "No! Anything but back there. I don't want to face +them again--not after what they did to me--" + +"Not so loud," I broke in. "They'll help you on Earth. They'll take all +the hatred and sickness out of you, and turn you into a useful member of +society again." + +"I hate Earthmen," he spat out. "I hate all of them." + +"I know," I said sarcastically. "You're just all full of hate. You hated +us so much that you couldn't bear to hang around on Earth for as much as +a year after the Sadlerville Blast. You had to take right off for Mars +without a moment's delay, didn't you? You hated Earth so much you _had_ +to leave." + +"Why are you telling all this to me?" + +"Because if you'd stayed long enough, you'd have used some of your +pension money to buy yourself a pair of prosthetic legs, and then you +wouldn't need this wheelchair." + +Ledman scowled, and then his face went belligerent again. "They told me +I was paralyzed below the waist. That I'd never walk again, even with +prosthetic legs, because I had no muscles to fit them to." + +"You left Earth too quickly," Val said. + +"It was the only way," he protested. "I had to get off--" + +"She's right," I told him. "The atom can take away, but it can give as +well. Soon after you left they developed _atomic-powered_ +prosthetics--amazing things, virtually robot legs. All the survivors of +the Sadlerville Blast were given the necessary replacement limbs free of +charge. All except you. You were so sick you had to get away from the +world you despised and come here." + +"You're lying," he said. "It's not true!" + +"Oh, but it is," Val smiled. + +I saw him wilt visibly, and for a moment I almost felt sorry for him, a +pathetic legless figure propped up against the wall of the Dome at +blaster-point. But then I remembered he'd killed twelve Geigs--or +more--and would have added Val to the number had he had the chance. + + * * * * * + +"You're a very sick man, Ledman," I said. "All this time you could have +been happy, useful on Earth, instead of being holed up here nursing your +hatred. You might have been useful, on Earth. But you decided to channel +everything out as revenge." + +"I still don't believe it--those legs. I might have walked again. +No--no, it's all a lie. They told me I'd never walk," he said, weakly +but stubbornly still. + +I could see his whole structure of hate starting to topple, and I +decided to give it the final push. + +"Haven't you wondered how I managed to break the tangle-cord when I +kicked you over?" + +"Yes--human legs aren't strong enough to break tangle-cord that way." + +"Of course not," I said. I gave Val the blaster and slipped out of my +oxysuit. "Look," I said. I pointed to my smooth, gleaming metal legs. +The almost soundless purr of their motors was the only noise in the +room. "I was in the Sadlerville Blast, too," I said. "But I didn't go +crazy with hate when I lost _my_ legs." + +Ledman was sobbing. + +"Okay, Ledman," I said. Val got him into his suit, and brought him the +fishbowl helmet. "Get your helmet on and let's go. Between the psychs +and the prosthetics men, you'll be a new man inside of a year." + +"But I'm a murderer!" + +"That's right. And you'll be sentenced to psych adjustment. When they're +finished, Gregory Ledman the killer will be as dead as if they'd +electrocuted you, but there'll be a new--and sane--Gregory Ledman." I +turned to Val. + +"Got the geigers, honey?" + +For the first time since Ledman had caught us, I remembered how tired +Val had been out on the desert. I realized now that I had been driving +her mercilessly--me, with my chromium legs and atomic-powered muscles. +No wonder she was ready to fold! And I'd been too dense to see how +unfair I had been. + +She lifted the geiger harnesses, and I put Ledman back in his +wheelchair. + +Val slipped her oxymask back on and fastened it shut. + +"Let's get back to the Dome in a hurry," I said. "We'll turn Ledman over +to the authorities. Then we can catch the next ship for Earth." + +"Go back? _Go back?_ If you think I'm backing down now and quitting you +can find yourself another wife! After we dump this guy I'm sacking in +for twenty hours, and then we're going back out there to finish that +search-pattern. Earth needs uranium, honey, and I know you'd never be +happy quitting in the middle like that." She smiled. "I can't wait to +get out there and start listening for those tell-tale clicks." + +I gave a joyful whoop and swung her around. When I put her down, she +squeezed my hand, hard. + +"Let's get moving, fellow hero," she said. + +I pressed the stud for the airlock, smiling. + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ September 1956. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and + typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Hunted Heroes, by Robert Silverberg + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HUNTED HEROES *** + +***** This file should be named 25627.txt or 25627.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/6/2/25627/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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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