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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/29299-8.txt b/29299-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7378a54 --- /dev/null +++ b/29299-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1708 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pirates of the Gorm, by Nat Schachner + +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: Pirates of the Gorm + +Author: Nat Schachner + +Release Date: July 3, 2009 [EBook #29299] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIRATES OF THE GORM *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Astounding Stories May 1932. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + + [Illustration: _He jumped--directly over the Gorm!_] + + + Pirates of the Gorm + + By Nat Schachner + + * * * * * + + + + +[Sidenote: The trail of vanished space ships leads Grant Pemberton to +a marvellous lake of fire.] + + +Grant Pemberton sat up suddenly in his berth, every sense straining +and alert. What was it that had awakened him in the deathly stillness +of the space-flier? His right hand slid under the pillow and clutched +the handle of his gun. Its firm coolness was a comforting reality. + +There it was again. A tiny scratching on the door as though someone +was fumbling for the slide-switch. Very quietly he sat, waiting, his +finger poised against the trigger. Suddenly the scratching ceased, and +the panel moved slowly open. A thin oblong patch glimmered in the +light of the corridor beyond. Grant tensed grimly. + +A hand moved slowly around the slit--a hand that held a pencil-ray. +Even in the dim illumination, Grant noted the queer spatulate fingers. +A Ganymedan! In the entire solar system only they had those strange +appendages. + +Pemberton catapulted out of his berth like a flash. Not a moment too +soon, either. A pale blue beam slithered across the blackness, +impinged upon the pillow where his head had lain only a moment before. +The air-cushion disintegrated into smoldering dust. Grant's weapon +spat viciously. A hail of tiny bullets rattled against the panel, and +exploded, each in a puffball of flame. + +But it was too late. Already the unknown enemy was running swiftly +down the corridor, the sucking patter of his feet giving more evidence +of his Ganymedan origin. Pemberton sprang to the door, thrust it open +just in time to see a dark shape disappearing around a bend in the +corridor. There was no use of pursuit; the passageway ended in a spray +of smaller corridors, from which ambush would be absurdly easy. + + * * * * * + +HE glanced swiftly around. The corridor was empty, silent in the dim, +diffused light. The motley passengers were all sound asleep; no one +had been disturbed by the fracas. Earthmen, green-faced Martians, +fish-scaled Venusians, spatulate Ganymedans and homeward-bound +Callistans, all reposing through the sleep-period in anticipation of +an early landing in Callisto. + +All were asleep, that is, but one. That brought Pemberton back to the +problem of his mysterious assailant. Why had this Ganymedan tried to +whiff him out of existence? Grant frowned. No one on board knew of his +mission, not even the captain. On the passenger list he was merely +Dirk Halliday, an inconspicuous commercial traveler for Interspace +Products. Yet someone had manifestly penetrated his disguise and was +eager to remove him from the path of whatever deviltry was up. Who? + +Grant gave a little start, then swore softly. Of course! Why hadn't he +thought of it before! The scene came back to him, complete in every +detail, as though he were once more back on Earth, in the small, +simply furnished office of the Interplanetary Secret Service. + +The Chief of the Service was glancing up at him keenly. Beside him was +a tall, powerfully shouldered Ganymedan, Miro, Inspector for Ganymede. +Grant looked at him with a faint distaste as he sat there, drumming on +the arm of his chair with his spatulate fingers, his soft-suction +padded hoofs curled queerly under the seat. There was something +furtive, too, about the red lidless eyes that shifted with quick +unwinking movements. + + * * * * * + +But then, Pemberton had small use for the entire tribe of Ganymedans. +Damned pirates, that's all they were. It was not many years back since +they had been the scourge of the solar system, harrying spatial +commerce with their swift piratical fliers, burning and slaying for +the mere lust of it. + +That is, until an armada of Earth space-fliers had broken their power +in one great battle. The stricken corsairs were compelled to disgorge +their accumulations of plunder, give up all their fliers and armament, +and above all, the import of metals was forbidden them. For, +strangely enough, none of the metallic elements was to be found on +Ganymede. All their weapons, all their ships, were forged of metals +from the other planets. + +It was now five years since Ganymede had been admitted once again to +the Planetary League, after suitable declarations of repentance. But +the prohibitions still held. And Grant placed small faith in the +sincerity of the repentance. + +The Chief was speaking. + +"We've called you in--Miro and I," he said, in his usual swift, +staccato manner, "because we've agreed that you are the best man in +the Service to handle the mission we have in mind." + +Grant said nothing. + +"It's a particularly dangerous affair," the Chief continued. "Five +great space-fliers, traveling along regular traffic routes, have all +vanished within the space of a month--passengers, crews and all. Not a +trace of them can be found." + +"No radio reports, sir?" + +"That's the most curious part of the whole business. Everyone of the +fliers was equipped with apparatus that could have raised the entire +solar system with a call for help, and yet not the tiniest whisper was +heard." + + * * * * * + +The Chief got up and paced the floor agitatedly. It was plain that +this business was worrying him. Miro continued to sit calmly, +seemingly indifferent. "It's uncanny, I tell you. Gone as though empty +space had swallowed them up." + +"You've applied routine methods, of course," Grant ventured. + +"Of course," the Chief waved it aside impatiently. "But we can't +discover a thing. Battle fliers have patrolled the area without +success. The last ship was literally snatched away right under the +nose of a convoy. One minute it was in radio communication, and the +next--whiff--it was gone." + +"Where is this area you mention?" Already Pemberton's razor-edged +brain was at work on the problem. + +"Within a radius of five million miles from Jupiter. We've naturally +considered placing an embargo upon that territory, but that would mean +cutting off all of the satellites from the rest of the system." + +Miro stirred. His smooth slurred voice rolled out. + +"And my planet would suffer, my friend. Alas, it has already suffered +too much." He evoked a sigh from somewhere in the depths of his barrel +chest, and tried to cast up his small red eyes. + +Grant suffered too, a faint disgust. Damn his eyes, what business had +an erstwhile pirate, not too recently reformed, being self-righteous? + +"Miro thinks," the Chief continued unheeding, "that the Callistans +know more about this than they admit. He has a theory that Callisto is +somehow gathering up these ships to use in a surprise attack against +his own planet, Ganymede. He says Callisto has always hated them." + +"Damn good reason," Grant said laconically. + + * * * * * + +Miro's lidless eyes flamed into sudden life. "And what do you mean by +that, my friend?" + +Pemberton replied calmly. "Simply that your people have harried and +ravaged them for untold centuries. They were your nearest prey, you +know." + +Miro sprang to his feet, his soft suction pads gripping the floor as +though preparatory to a spring. Gone was the sanctimonious unction of +his former behavior; the ruthless savage glared out of the red eyes, +the flattened fingers were twisting and curling. + +"You beastly Earthling," he cried in a voice choked with rage, +"I'll--" + +The Chief intervened swiftly. "Here, none of that," he said sharply to +Miro. "Don't say anything you'll regret later." Then he turned to +Grant, who was steadily holding his ground: "There was no reason, +Pemberton, to insult an inspector of the Service. Consider yourself +reprimanded." But the edge of the rebuke was taken off by the slight +twinkle in the Chief's eye. + +Somehow a truce was patched up. Grant was to ship as an ordinary +passenger on the _Althea_, the great passenger liner that plied +between Callisto and the Earth. It was not his duty to prevent the +disappearance of the vessel, the Chief insisted, but to endeavor to +discover the cause. It was up to Grant then to escape, if he could, +and to report to Miro on Ganymede immediately with his findings. Miro +was leaving by his private Service flier at once for Ganymede, to +await him. Grant thought he saw a faint sardonic gleam in the +Inspector's eyes at that, but paid no particular heed to it at the +time. + + * * * * * + +Now, as Grant stood in the corridor of the great space-flier, +listening intently for further sounds from his hidden foe, it flashed +on him. Miro knew he was on board. It was a Ganymedan who had +treacherously attacked him. The puzzle was slowly fitting its pieces +together. But the major piece still eluded him. What would happen to +the ship? + +As he turned to go back to his room, a ripping, tearing, grinding +sound came to his startled ears. It was followed by a sudden swishing +noise. Grant knew what that meant. A meteor had ripped into the vitals +of the space-flier, and the precious air was rushing through the +fissure into outer space. He whirled without an instant's hesitation +and sprang down the long corridor toward the captain's quarters. If +caught in time, the hole could be plugged. + +Even as he ran, there was another grinding smash, then another, and +another. Good Lord, they must have headed right into a meteor shower. +Panels were sliding open, and people, scantily attired, thrust +startled heads out into the corridor. Someone called after him, but he +did not heed or stop his headlong race. He must get to the control +room at once. + +Already the air in the corridor was a sucking whirlpool that beat and +eddied about him in its mad rush to escape. It sounded like the +drumbeat of unsilenced exploders. A meteor shower of unprecedented +proportions! In the back of Grant's mind as he ran, hammered a +thought. Every swarm of meteors in the solar system was carefully +plotted. The lanes of travel were routed to avoid them. There was no +known shower in this particular area! + +He collided violently with a strange ungainly figure. In his desperate +haste he did not give much heed, but tried to push his way past. The +figure turned on him, and then Grant stopped short, an exclamation +frozen to his lips. Red unwinking eyes stared out at him from goggles +set in a helmet. The body was completely inclosed in lusterless +creatoid. It was a Ganymedan in a space-suit! + + * * * * * + +Grant saw the quick movement of the other toward an open side flap. He +did not hesitate an instant. His fist shot out and caught the +Ganymedan flush in the throat, while his left hand simultaneously +seized the creatoid-covered arm that gripped a pencil-ray. The +helmeted head went back with a sickening thud. But the Ganymedan was +a powerful brute. Even as he staggered back from the force of the +blow, vainly trying to release the pencil-ray for action, his right +foot jerked forward. The next moment both were rolling on the floor, +twisting and heaving in silent combat. Frightened passengers rushed +down the corridor, screaming with terror, half carried along by the +hurricane wind, clambering over the combatants in an insane desire to +get away, where, they knew not; and still neither relaxed his grip, +seeking a mortal hold. + +Pemberton was certain that his silent unknown foe held the clue to the +mystery he was trying to fathom. He fought on, silently, grimly. The +cold creatoid fabric was slippery, but a sudden jerk of an arm, a +certain quick twist that Grant was familiar with, and his enemy went +limp. Grant's breath was coming in quick, labored gasps. There was +very little air left now. But he did not care. He tugged at the +fastenings on the helmet. He must see who his captive was, wrest from +him the heart of the mystery. + +There came a clatter of feet behind him, a sudden rush of space-suited +figures that overwhelmed and passed over him with trampling strides. +He was torn loose from his prey, rolled over and over, gasping for +air. When he staggered to his feet again, bruised and shaken, the +corridor was swept clean of figures. His assailants had carried his +opponent away with them. + +A wild surge of anger swept through him. More Ganymedans, these +rescuers, all accoutered for airless space. They had been carefully +prepared for this. Heedless of all else, he swayed groggily after +them, intent only on joining battle once again. The illumination was +dim now, the cries of fear that had rung through the ship were gone; +only a deathly silence reigned now. His lungs were burning for want +of air; even the whirlwind had died down for lack of fuel. But still +he kept on, like a bloodhound on the trail. + + * * * * * + +He rounded a corner. A slight figure, swaying like a reed, collided +with him and would have fallen if he had not thrust out a supporting +arm. It was a girl. Even in the shadowy light he saw that she was +beautiful. Her delicately molded features were drained white, but her +deep pooled eyes were level in their gaze, unafraid. + +"I'm sorry," he managed, finding utterance labored, "Are you hurt?" + +"Quite all right," she said, with a wan smile, "if only I had some air +to breathe." + +The essential bravery of her touched him. He forgot all about the +escaped Ganymedans. + +"We'll have to try some other portion of the ship. Maybe some of the +bulkheads are uninjured." + +She shook her head. "I just saw the captain," she enunciated faintly. +"Every bulkhead is riddled. Said--I--should get space-suit--in +stateroom--though no use--doomed. Something wrong--wireless--not +working...." Her voice trailed. She had fainted. + +Grant caught up her slight form and lurched unsteadily into the +nearest cabin. The blood was roaring in his ears now, his heart was +pumping madly, but he forced himself on. His eyes strained toward the +compartment where the emergency space-suit was neatly compacted. Thank +God. It was still there. The inmate had evidently rushed out at the +first alarm to join the terror-maddened crush. + +Pemberton worked with feverish haste. Somehow he thrust the +unconscious girl into the suit, tightened the helmet into position, +opened the valve that started the steady measured flow of life-giving +oxygen. Then, with dark spots dancing before his eyes, he deposited +her gently on the floor, and managed to force himself in the now +almost total darkness toward another room. + + * * * * * + +His swelling hands fumbled. The compartment was empty. Despairing, +conscious only of a desire to lie down, to rest, he tried another. It, +too, was empty. He stumbled over sprawled bodies, fell, managed to get +up again. Again he fumbled into a compartment. The clammy feel of the +creatoid never was more welcome. His breath was coming in whistling +gasps. It seemed ages of strangulation before the first cool rush of +oxygen expanded his tortured lungs. For a full minute he stood there, +inhaling deep draughts. Then once more he was himself, his brain +functioning with keen clarity. + +He must find the Ganymedans and come to grips with them. There was no +doubt in his mind that somehow they had been responsible for the +cataclysm. Just how, he did not know, but he would find out. + +But the girl. He could not leave her. Duty and something else stirred +into conflict. He hesitated. In the flap of the suit was an emergency +flash. Throwing the beam on the walls and flooring, he managed to +retrace his steps to the cabin where he had left her. As he flashed it +inside, his heart gave a great bound. She was standing now. + +"Feel all right?" he spoke into the tiny transmitter that was part of +the regulation equipment. + +"Fine." Her warm, rich voice spoke in his ear. "But I'm not thinking +of myself. Are the others on board safe? What happened?" + +"I'm afraid we are the only ones alive," he told her gravely. "As to +what happened, I can only guess. We seem to have hit an unusually +heavy meteor shower that riddled us through and through, though--" He +paused. + +"Though what?" + +He ignored her question. "The first thing we've got to do is find out +where we are." His flash sought the window switch and found it. He +went over and pressed it. A section of the beryllium-steel casing slid +smoothly open, disclosing a thick flawless quartzite port. He stared +out at the dark pattern of space. Long he gazed, then a stifled +exclamation reached the girl. + +"What is it?" she cried. + +"Come and look," he told her gravely, and made room for her. + + * * * * * + +At first she saw only the unwinking stars of space. Then her eyes +shifted forward. Jupiter lay ahead, a vast cloud-girt disk. It was +ominously near. Somehow it gave the effect of rushing straight at her. + +Right along the equator floated, or seemed to float, a huge red +oval--the Great Red Spot of Jupiter. She had heard of it before. But +what caught her immediate attention was a tiny flare of intense +illumination, right in the very heart of the Spot. Bright orange it +was, tinged with yellow, dazzling even at this distance. She watched +it eagerly. Then she gave a sudden start. + +"You've seen it." Grant's voice sounded quietly in her helmet. + +"Yes. Why, it--it pulsates!" + +"Exactly. Now look along the hull of the ship." + +She did so, and gasped again. The steel-shod sides were bathed in an +unearthly orange glow. + +"Why, that must be the light from the orange spot down there." + +Grant nodded. "Yes, and more than that. They are power waves of a +nature that we've known nothing of before. We are being pulled down +along that beam straight for Jupiter, straight for the source of that +light!" + +"But that means there are intelligent beings on Jupiter." + +"No doubt." + +"But--but everyone know that there's no life on Jupiter. It's a frozen +waste swathed in impenetrable whirlwind clouds." + +"How does everyone know?" Grant retorted. "Has anyone ever penetrated +through those clouds?" + +"No," she admitted; "though there have been plenty of expeditions that +tried, and never came back." + +"That of course doesn't prove anything. Mind you," he added. "I didn't +say there was native life existing on Jupiter. I merely said there +were intelligent beings operating that illumination." + +"Who could it be then?" + +"We'll find out when we get down there." + + * * * * * + +The very calmness of his matter-of-fact statement brought her back +abruptly to their precarious situation. + +"But, great heavens, we'll smash and be killed. Can't we do +something?" + +"We'll not smash." Grant said positively. "Though very likely we shall +be killed. As for doing something, we can only wait and take our +chances, if the gentry who are hauling us in will only give us an +opportunity. You know," he added with a fine inconsecutiveness, "I +don't even know your name." + +She bubbled with sudden laughter. "Nona--Nona Gail. I was on my way to +Callisto, to meet my father," she explained. "He's an engineer, doing +some construction work for Interspace Products. But now that I've told +you all, what and who may you be?" + +He was frank. There was now no need for concealment. "Grant +Pemberton, an unimportant unit of the Interplanetary Secret Service." + +"Then you knew that the trip would be dangerous," she challenged. + +"Yes." + +"Why did you come?" + +"It is part of my duties." + +There was silence between them. He turned to stare out of the quartz +port-hole again. Jupiter was perceptibly nearer; an enormous, convex +globe that blotted out half the heavens. They were being drawn at a +frightful velocity toward the mysterious pulsating point, now blinding +in its brilliance. + +They both saw it simultaneously: a space-suited figure, far out in the +depths of interstellar space, caught up in a sudden flare of orange +illumination. The strange figure seemed to whirl around, straighten +up, and shoot at breakneck speed headlong for Jupiter. Behind it, and +in a direct line with the winking flame in the Great Spot, another +space denizen glowed luridly, startlingly, out of the blackness +beyond, whirled, and shot down the long invisible path. + +Nona cried out: "Grant, tell me quickly, what are they; what is +pulling them?" + +Even as she spoke, more and more figures were blazoned in that orange +ray, until a long file of beings were catapulting in a single straight +line past the space-ship, outdistancing it until they became faint +specks in the distance. + + * * * * * + +Pemberton's hand was upon her shoulder, his eyes literally blazing +through the goggles, while his voice shouted in her ears. "Come with +me: We haven't a second to lose." + +"But," she gasped, "you haven't told me--" + +"No time," he interrupted, and, shoving her in front of him, he rushed +her through corridor after corridor until they came to the air-lock +of the liner. + +"If only we have time," he groaned, and cursed himself for a bungling +fool for not having surmised the maneuver earlier. + +Just as he had expected, the great lock was open. The ship was as +silent as the grave. There was no air anywhere, only the unutterably +cold airlessness of space. Without pausing in his headlong rush, he +pushed the bewildered girl through the open port, out into the +overwhelming, intangible blackness. Nona's smothered cry of fear came +to him as the next instant he stepped forward and left the solid +footing to float in sudden weightlessness in a vast sea of +nothingness. + +The girl reached out and caught his arm convulsively. Even through the +fabric of their suits he could feel her trembling. Pemberton had taken +good care to retain a hold on the edge of the open air-lock. The two +swung unsteadily. + +"What is the reason for this?" Grant sensed, rather, than heard, the +tremor in her voice. She was making a desperate effort to control +herself. "We'll be lost--out here in space." + +"Don't worry," he said soothingly. "I'll explain in due course. In the +meantime you'll have to trust me. Did you see where that invisible ray +held when it illumined the last Ganymedan?" + +"Ganymedan?" she echoed in surprise. "What makes you think--" + +"Never mind that. Did you?" he insisted. + +"Yes," she admitted, "it was about over there." She indicated the spot +with an outthrust arm. "About a hundred yards, I should judge." + +"Exactly," he agreed. "Well, young lady, our lives, and far more, +depend upon our reaching that exact line in space immediately." + +"I don't know what you are talking about, but even so, how can we +make it? I'm not a rocket." + +"It's difficult, I admit, but we must. Now hold on tight to my arm, +and press your feet firmly against the wall of the ship." She obeyed. + +"Now when I count three, shove off violently, and pray that we're +going straight. Are you game?" + +She stiffened; then, very slowly, "All right; start counting." + +"Good girl," Grant said approvingly. "One--two--th-r-ee-ee!" + +They flexed their legs in perfect unison. And shoved off. + + * * * * * + +Out into the blackness of space they shot, lost to all sense of +motion: yet the hull of the space-flier, dimly gleaming in the thin +light of the far off sun, retreated from them with terrifying +swiftness. + +They were alone in space! It was an uncanny, a horribly helpless +sensation. All about them was infinity, a vast void out of which +peered at them the cold, unwinking stars. They were like swimmers in +mid-ocean, without even the buoyant feel of the salt water to comfort +them. + +Nona's grip on Grant's arm was agonizing in its intensity. + +"Scared?" Grant queried. + +"A--a little," she admitted; "but don't bother about me. I'm all +right." + +She could be depended upon to keep up her end, Grant thought +admiringly. + +On and on they floated in the welter of space. And still there was no +ray, nothing but unrelieved blackness. Pemberton was somewhat worried. +Had the saving ray been quenched at the source? Were they too late? If +so, they were doomed to a frightful obliterating fall to the surface +of the planet, or worse still, they were destined to swing endlessly +in space. Already the liner was far away, out of their grasp, even +had they desired to return. + +His breath was coming in quick gasps now. "Scared?" he once more asked +the silent figure beside him. + +"Frightfully--but carry on. We'll get there, wherever it is." + +Her gay determination strengthened him wonderfully. On and on they +floated. + +Suddenly the dim, dark bulk of the girl caught the uncanny orange +light. The next instant the creatoid fabric of his own suit caught it, +too. + +"Thank God," he cried joyously. "It's still on. Just relax, Nona, the +ray will take care of us now." + +He felt a powerful tug at his body, he was whirled completely around, +and then there was a steady pull. He was being catapulted down the ray +to the mysterious point of brilliance in the Great Red Spot. The girl +was right beside him. The space-liner was passed with a smooth rush, +and soon receded to a dwindling speck. + + * * * * * + +"Now will you explain?" asked Nona impatiently, after she had caught +her breath in sudden relief. + +Grant stretched luxuriously before he began. + +"Certainly. There's nothing for us now to do but wait until we get +pulled down to Jupiter, and that'll take some time. I hope we look +like Ganymedans." + +"Will you get on with your story!" she cried. + +He obeyed. He started from the beginning and went right up to the time +when he had so rudely thrust her out into space. + +"You see," he explained. "I had put the puzzle together a bit, but +there were still pieces missing. For instance, those chaps down there +know that every space-liner is equipped with emergency space-suits. +Why pull the ship down with live men on board? That would naturally +mean a fight, and we have no mean weapons, what with disintegrator +ray-projectors and explosive electro-bullets." Then, again, for some +reason, there were Ganymedans on board. They would very likely be +whiffed out in the mêlée. The ship might be destroyed also, and they +evidently are very careful about getting the ship down intact. The +little meteor holes can easily be plugged up, and the liner made as +good as new. At least that was my guess. + +"I was trying to puzzle it out, rather hopelessly," he continued, +"when I saw the ray out in space pick up those floating figures. That +was the last little piece in the jigsaw. + +"The Ganymedans evidently had to leave the ship because, as it +approaches the planet, something will be done to kill off any +unfortunates who are still alive, waiting their chance to fight the +invisible enemy. Possibly a penetrating lethal gas that will be forced +into the interior. So they evolved the ray to carry the Ganymedan +passengers down gently, safely. And we are stowaways," he concluded +grimly. + +Nona had listened intently to the long recital. + +"But why," she expostulated, "was it necessary to have their own +people on board? The meteors that riddled the ship were projectiles +shot from their station on Jupiter. So was the attraction-ray that +pulls the ship down." + +"Because they required a sufficient force to disable the radio +apparatus. All radio waves used on interplanetary liners are shielded +from interference. It is impossible to blank them out. And with the +radio intact, every battle flier in space would be on their trail in a +hurry." + + * * * * * + +Several hours passed, and still they fell endlessly through space, +unaware of their motion except that Jupiter was now a huge orb +blotting out the universe. The grim face of the giant planet was +enswathed in endless billowing clouds. No one had ever penetrated to +the real core. But what held their eager, straining attention was a +vast blood red disk, cyclonic in character, directly beneath them. The +Great Red Spot! And immediately in the center of it was the tiny, +blindingly brilliant yellow orange oval, winking up at them with +quick, steady pulsations. + +"What can it be?" Nona wondered. + +"The source of their power, evidently. But what interests me more just +now is where the Ganymedans have their hangout in those clouds, and +what they're doing with the ships they capture." + +Jupiter was now a flat level stretch that reached on all sides as far +as the eye could see. Grant felt a sudden sensation of weight again, +as though something was pressing with crushing force against his +chest. + +"Hello," he said, "our fall is being checked. They're making sure +their friends come to no harm." And he laughed bitterly, thinking of +the men and women lying with lungs ruptured, cold and stiff, in the +interior of the _Althea_; of the possible few wretches who had managed +to huddle into space-suits, ignorant of the deadly gas that was soon +to search out their seemingly impenetrable habiliments. + +Slowly, ever more slowly, they fell. Thin wisps of reddish vapor +rushed upward toward them, and then they were enveloped in vast swirls +of cloud masses. They were within the Great Spot! + +Then the lurid clouds parted suddenly, revealing a deep hole, at the +bottom of which flamed and flared the mysterious yellow-orange +brilliance. Down the long shaft they fell, while all around its +invisible walls dark red cyclones stirred and beat in vain. + + * * * * * + +Just as it seemed as if they were doomed to fall headlong into the +blaze, they were swerved violently into an opening that angled off +from the main shaft. Down this branching shaft they continued to +fall--interminably--when suddenly it widened, and they were dropping +through the interior of a great dome of which the arched roof was the +swirling clouds they had just penetrated. Directly beneath floated a +flat island of smooth rock, supported and upheld by a shining sea of +vapors. + +The girl exclaimed sharply, but Grant only nodded to himself with grim +satisfaction. He had expected something like this. For, clustered in +serried rows at the end of the island directly beneath them were +sleek, stream-lined grayhounds of the interplanetary traffic lanes, +now resting immovably on the smooth gray stone--the missing +space-liners! + +The island was bisected by a huge forbidding wall, over which, at +their angle, Grant was unable to see. + +The ground was encumbered too with clumps of intricate machinery, all +of the same polished gray stone; Ganymedan stone, Ganymedan machinery, +Pemberton recognized at once. Hundreds of figures were scurrying +awkwardly around, clad in the inevitable space-suit. Several were +working desperately at a huge concave glass reflector. Others were +pointing a stone nozzle, extending out of a pit, directly upward. + +"I'm afraid." Nona shuddered and pressed closer to Grant. + +"Don't be," he assured her. "Just say nothing when we land. Let me do +the talking." + +All this while they had been floating gently downward toward what they +now saw to be a miniature replica of the vaster orange brightness at +the bottom of the main shaft from which they had been diverted. It was +a pool of liquid fire, so intense in its brilliance that their eyes +were dazzled staring at it. It rose and fell in regular pulsations. +They were not far above it now, and still no one on the strange island +seemed to be aware of their coming. + +Nona cried out, "Grant, we're going to fall right into it!" + +Pemberton looked down at the small fiery pool with anxious eyes. +Unless something happened, and that quickly, they would be seared to a +crisp. Already the heat was uncomfortable, even through their suits. +He tried to kick himself aside, but the pull of the liquid was too +powerful for him. Then he resolved on a desperate expedient. + +"Say, you fellows down there," he cried in the smooth, slurred +Ganymedan speech. "What are you trying to do, fry us? Hurry up and +prepare our landing." + + * * * * * + +For a moment they were tense with the tenseness of imminent death. +Were the Ganymedans equipped with communication disks; would they +sense the strangeness of the accent? Nona was gripping his hand with a +pressure that penetrated the fabric. And every second brought them +down closer and closer to the dread lake. + +"Ah!" Nona's breath came in a shuddering sigh. For one of the figures +glanced upward and saw them dropping. He shouted something to his +fellows, and darted for a lever set in the stone next to the pool. He +threw it over swiftly. Immediately what seemed to be a smooth slab of +transparent glassite shot into position over the pulsating flame, not +an instant too soon, either, for it had barely covered the flaming +death when the Earthlings' feet were already touching it. + +"It would have served you two fools right if I had let you drop in," +their savior grumbled disgustedly. "What in Jupiter took you so long? +Everyone else arrived hours ago. Didn't know there were any more." + +"Sorry, but we couldn't help it," Grant responded carefully. "You see, +we got mixed up in a scrap with some Earthmen who evidently suspected +us, just as we were diving out of the air-lock. We had the devil's own +job of beating them off." + +"You too! The Chief came down foaming at the mouth. Some dumb Earthman +almost throttled him before he got away. He swears he'll blast Earth +out of space. He's that mad. But here, I've got no time to be talking +to your fellows. I've got work to do. Better report to the Chief at +once, and heaven help you. He's sure in a black rage at this minute." + +With that he moved away, over to the gang of Ganymedans holding the +stone nozzle and looking expectantly up at the large, round hole in +the cloud ceiling. + +Nona stood close to Grant. "What are they doing with the queer +affair?" She indicated the nozzle. + +"I'm afraid we'll find out only too soon," he answered grimly. +"Look--" he broke off. + +Far overhead, through the great round orifice, darted a tremendous +shape, pointed, glittering. + +"Why, that's the _Althea_," Nona exclaimed. + +"Yes. Now watch. Damn--all we can do is watch," Grant gritted between +his teeth. + + * * * * * + +Down sped the gleaming liner, pride of the fleet. The men at the +mirror were swerving it on gimbals until a ray from it flashed on the +burnished nose. As though it were a physical impact, the vessel +slackened its tremendous speed and hung suspended midway between the +cloud concavity and the island. + +The men with the nozzle spurred into activity. A thin stream of fluid +shot out of the orifice straight up for the captive liner. The tip of +the expanding spray impinged on the hull--and Nona gasped her +astonishment. For the liquid passed clean through the hull as though +it were a porous network instead of four-inch thick beryllium-steel. + +"Just as I thought," Grant groaned. "Lethal gas that penetrates +everything. Those poor people on board--for their own sakes I hope +none remained alive to hit this." + +"Can't we do anything?" Nona asked desperately. + +"Nothing for the _Althea_. But plenty to prevent any more disasters +like it." There was a hard ring to his voice. "Come on." He stepped +off the transparent slab onto the stone floor of the island. + +"Where to?" asked Nona, following. + +"We're going to locate that orange oval we saw from the _Althea_. +That's the secret of all this. The pool of liquid fire here is +unimportant, secondary." + +They were at one edge of the floating island. The other side was +hidden from them by the solid wall that stretched across its full +diameter. + +"We'll scout beyond there," Grant pointed out. "I'll miss my guess if +what we're looking for is not on the other side." + +As they started for the wall, they saw the Althea brought slowly down +to the rock, another captive to swell the motionless fleet. It did +not take them long to reach the barrier. Some fifty feet high it was, +of smooth polished Ganymedan stone, and no door or opening in its +straight unbroken surface. + +"How shall we get through?" Nona asked. + +Grant surveyed it thoughtfully. + +"There must be a hidden spring somewhere," he said. + +He walked carelessly along the wall, tapping it idly here and there. +His quick probing fingers were searching. + +With a sharp "Ah!" he stopped short. He bent over a moment; his +fingers moved deftly. Then he straightened with a grunt of +satisfaction. A section of the seemingly solid, immovable stone was +sliding silently open. He looked through. + + * * * * * + +Nona saw him jerk his head back, heard his involuntary cry of horror. +Then she heard another cry: an excited warning shout. She whirled +around in time to see a Ganymedan running toward them from behind. A +deadly pencil-ray pointed straight at her companion. Without a +moment's hesitation she sprang at Grant, pushed him violently so that +he staggered and fell through the opening to the other side. In so +doing, she tripped over his body, and fell prone. That saved her life, +for a blue flame sheared clean through the stone, inches above her +head. + +Grant squirmed around underneath. The electro-gun was somehow out of +the side flap and now it spat its explosive hail. The tiny bullets +flared into little puff balls of flame against the space-suit of the +Ganymedan. A long howl of anguish came to them as he threw up his +hands and fell into a shapeless heap. But a moment later there were +other cries, angry shouts. Pemberton was on his feet again with the +quickness of a cat. He pulled Nona up after him, thrust her to one +side, behind the protection of the wall. His eyes were blazing now, +aflame with the ardor of battle. Very carefully he leaned out and +pressed the trigger. The surging mob was caught in full flight. The +electro-bullets spread fanwise, exploded into flaming deaths. The +Ganymedans went down as though a huge scythe had swept through their +ranks. The survivors scattered hastily, throwing themselves headlong +to the surface of the rock to escape further execution. + +"That'll hold them for a while," Grant laughed grimly. + +"Drop your gun, and turn around--both of you." A cold, smooth voice +spoke in deadly menace directly behind them--a voice that came from +the mysterious inner side of the wall. + +Grant spun around, his gun ready to fire. A ray snapped out at him, a +ray with a greenish tinge. The fingers of his gun hand grew suddenly +nerveless; the weapon dropped unresistingly from his paralyzed hand. + +A tall Ganymedan towered before him, unhidden by a space-suit. +Evidently there was a layer of air in here. The red lidless eyes were +filled with a cold fury. Spatulate fingers tensed on the button of a +pencil ray. + +"Miro," Grant breathed to himself unbelievingly. A great light burst +upon him. + + * * * * * + +The Inspector of the Service for Ganymede did not recognize him, +swathed as Grant was in the depths of his space-suit, nor did he +notice the little movement of surprise. He was too furiously angry. +His words came tumbling out in a tremble of rage. + +"You damned scoundrels; have you gone mad? What do you mean by coming +in here through the secret way? Don't you know it is death for anyone +to pass the barrier? And what do you mean by shooting down your +fellows with an Earth weapon? Answer, damn you, before I thrust you +into the Gorm." + +Both were silent; Nona because she did not know what to say, and Grant +because he knew his voice would be recognized by Miro's keen ears. He +kept his eyes fixed on the Ganymedan, waiting hawk-like for one false +move, for the tiniest wavering of attention. But the pencil-ray was +pointed squarely at his breast. + +"You won't talk?" Miro's voice was choked with passion. "Well, there +are ways to make you." With one foot he kicked at the open slab, while +his weapon commanded them unwaveringly. There was a smooth soundless +rush. Grant knew that the wall was an unbroken surface again. They +were cut off on the secret side of the island, alone with Miro. + +Yet that was the horror of it. They were not alone. For Grant's first +darting look inside when he had first opened the panel had shown him +the others. Hundreds of them there were, men of all races and planets, +a motley crew. And each man walked stiffly, unnaturally, looking +neither to the right nor to the left. Their eyes were fixed and +glassy; the skin of their faces, no matter what their origin, was +uniformly parched and gray. A cold sweat broke out on Grant's +forehead. They looked like automatons: beings from whom life had been +drained. He heard a little choked cry from Nona; she had seen them, +too. + +Miro plucked out with his free hand a little pear-shaped mechanism +punctured with innumerable holes. He blew into it, once--twice. It +gave forth a high whining note. Instantly two of the strange lifeless +men wheeled angularly, and with queer mechanical movements headed +straight for them. A bloodless hand stretched out, grasped Nona. Grant +heard her scream and saw her struggling in a loathsome grip. + + * * * * * + +Forgetting everything, forgetting the deadly ray in Miro's hands, he +sprang to her rescue. The next instant he was in the grip of a similar +hand, a frail, dead-white naked arm, yet endowed with the strength of +steel. Struggle as he might, dash his fist as hard as he could against +the unresisting blank face, he could not loose that grip. Miro watched +his futile strugglings mockingly. + +"Take these traitors over to the Gorm and let me look at their faces," +he ordered. + +Grant and Nona were picked up in those emaciated, powerful arms as +easily as though they were children, and the unhuman creatures +proceeded at a slow, awkward pace away from the hall, toward the outer +edge of the island. From his uncomfortable vantage point, Pemberton +noticed that they were passing clumps of intricate stone machinery. +Dead-faced automatons, similar to their captors, were tending the +whirring machinery with ordered, stiff-legged movements. + +Then, straight ahead, Grant saw the edge of the island, against which +beat and billowed in furious, gigantic heaves, the reddish overarching +clouds of the Great Spot. Strangely enough, though they whirled and +eddied, they could not seem to break through the invisible barrier. +And then the lake of fire sprang into view--the mysterious place of +flame they had seen from afar, that had pulled the hapless _Althea_ +out of its course down to destruction on Jupiter. This then was the +Gorm! + +A wide circular pool it was, of an unearthly yellow-orange brilliance. +The midday sun was no more dazzling to the eye. Out it stretched from +the island into the vapors of the Great Red Spot, only touching the +stone rim of the island at one thin point. Its liquid fires were +waveless now, oily, yet there was something horrible, too, about its +smooth quiescence. + +Miro whistled. The rigid guards dropped their burdens roughly and +stood at attention. One was an Earthman, the other a fish-faced +Venusian. Yet the queer dead look of their eyes was exactly the same. + +"Will you remove your helmets, or shall I ask the Doora to assist +you?" Miro's voice was silky. + + * * * * * + +Because there was nothing else to do, Grant unscrewed his helmet and +let it fall back on its hinge. Then he looked very calmly and steadily +at the Inspector of the Service for Ganymede. + +A dull flame leaped into Miro's eyes at the sight of his captive. + +"You!" Then he smiled, a peculiarly horrible smile. "You are cleverer +than I thought, my Earth friend. You should have been strangled to +death on the _Althea_, or made into one of--" + +He stopped short, and the smile widened cruelly. "But it is not too +late. No, it is not too late." + +Grant disregarded his cryptic phrases. He smiled, too, a contemptuous +smile that cut like a lash. + +"You, Miro, an Inspector of the Service, are only a lying, +treacherous, butchering Ganymedan. Filthy scum of the Universe." + +Miro started forward with a roar, a dark flush of rage suffusing his +green-tinged countenance. His blunt-edged finger trembled on the +button of the pencil-ray. Grant knew he was perilously on the verge +of sudden death, yet his scornful glance did not waver. + +It was Nona, hitherto unnoticed, her helmet removed, who darted upon +the giant Ganymedan with small beating fists. Miro saw her coming and +swung her sprawling away with one sweep of his free hand, while he +covered Grant with the other. + +He had recovered his composure. Some secret merriment seemed to +convulse him. + +"Ho! ho!" he shouted. "Who is this little spitfire? By Jupiter, she is +a tempting morsel." And his red eyes took in the flushed beauty of the +panting girl speculatively. + +Grant tensed for a quick spring. + +"Stand where you are," Miro barked. "One move and it will be your +last." Gone was the smooth unctuous speech of former times. His tone +now was cutting, deadly. + + * * * * * + +"You damned Earthmen have been crowing long enough," he said. "When Miro +and Ganymede get through with you, the very memory of your filthy planet +will have been erased from the solar system." His voice rose higher. +"You thought you had us beaten down with your space-battleships and your +embargoes on metals. And we were meekly repentant. Oh yes, we were! We +took you in nicely. Why, they even made me, Miro, Inspector of your +rotten Service. + +"But we have been preparing against the day for years. Here on this +island that we built we worked, hidden from interference. We are ready +now. Our fleets will sail out, in your own ships, to smash the +combined space navies of the solar system." + +In spite of himself Grant could not hide a sudden grin of relief. The +man was mad, to think of pitting a few liners against armored battle +craft. Miro saw that grin. + +"You think I'm mad, don't you?" he gloated. "Just listen to this, +then. We have found a substance that no ray, no electro-bullet can +penetrate. Every ship will be coated with it. And the Gorm here"--he +pointed to the oily lake--"will draw your proud cruisers down to +destruction, or thrust them far out into the uncharted spaces, +helpless, just as it pleases us. You wonder how it works? Look! Now it +attracts, and powerfully. But when I reverse the current passing +through it like this"--he leaned over and pulled a switch set in the +rock right by the edge--"it repels everything. We'll just stand off in +space and pick off your proud warships one by one, without a scratch +to ourselves. See?" He fairly hissed the last word. + +Grant saw, and the cold sweat burst out on his forehead. His brain +raced desperately in a vain effort to find some way out, some method +of foiling this beast. + +"You sure talk big, Miro," he said in bored fashion, feigning +indifference; "but it means nothing to me. The point is, what do you +intend doing with us?" + + * * * * * + +The Ganymedan's lips writhed. "Nothing at all to your pretty friend," +he leered. "I have plans for her. But as for you--see these creatures +all about?" + +"Well?" + +"You are going to be one of them. They are passengers and crews who +had the misfortune to be alive when the captured ships were sprayed +with our gas. It does not kill. Oh, no! It just numbs their faculties, +paralyzes them. Then our surgeons get busy. They know how to remove +the memory and reasoning areas of the brain and leave just machines, +automata, to do our bidding. Clever, aren't they? When Earth is +captured, I intend subjecting all your damned breed to the operation. +They make very willing slaves, I've found. Two blasts on this toy"--he +raised the whistle to his lips--"and an Earth-Doora comes for you." + +Nona sprang forward. "No, no, Miro. Please do not touch Mr. Pemberton. +I'll--I'll--" + +"What will you?" The Ganymedan's pig-eyes devoured her. + +"I'll--" Then, to Grant's eternal horror, she sank into Miro's arms. +The surprised look on Miro's face changed slowly to one of passion, as +he held her close to him with his great hairy arm. + +"Nona!" Grant gasped and saw red. Heedless of the unwavering weapon at +his breast, he sprang. Miro snarled as he saw him coming. His finger +pressed down. But at that instant the Earth girl struck out with all +the power of her slender arm. It was not much of a blow, but it +managed to jar the weapon aside. The blue flame leaped hissing through +the air. + +Miro roared with rage, and flung her yards away, to lie, an unmoving +pathetic bundle. Then he swung his ray back into play. + +But he never had a chance to use it. All the strength and fury of +Grant's lithe, steel sinews and bone were behind the solid smash that +landed squarely on the Ganymedan's chin. He went down in a slump, +completely out. + + * * * * * + +Grant stooped to pick up the fallen pencil-ray, thrust it in the side +flap, then hurried over to the limp figure of Nona. + +"Darling," he cried, "if anything's happened to you, I'll--" + +The still form stirred, sat up. + +"Say that again." She was smiling weakly, but happily. + +Grant flushed. "As many times later as you'll want," he said, "but now +that you're not hurt, we can't waste any time in trying to get out of +here." + +He walked over to Miro, who was just coming to. + +"Listen, you rat," he told the Ganymedan, who was rubbing his chin and +groaning: "you do exactly as I say, if you know what's good for you." +He shook the pencil-ray significantly. + +"You can't get away with it," Miro snarled, muttering a string of +curses. There was baffled rage in his red pig-eyes. + +Grant surveyed him coldly. + +"We'll see about that," he snapped. "Get up." He reinforced his demand +with a well-placed kick. The huge Ganymedan came quickly to his feet. + +"Walk to the wall," was the next order, "and open the trick door." + +With a glance of savage hate, Miro obeyed. Grant followed him with his +pistol in readiness. The poor mindless creatures paid no heed to what +was going on, but dully continued their appointed tasks. + +Pemberton hid himself behind the wall to one side. Nona did likewise, +having picked up the electro-gun meanwhile. Only Miro stood before the +opening. + +"Now tell your cutthroat friends out there we want one of the liners +brought directly over the Gorm, you understand. Not the Althea, +though--that's still full of holes. And only one Ganymedan to guide +her over the wall. Be very explicit, and not a false move out of you, +or it'll be your last." + +With the knowledge that two deadly weapons were pointing squarely at +him, Miro shouted unwillingly the necessary instructions to his +subordinates outside. Then Grant leaned over and kicked the slide +shut. + + * * * * * + +There followed tense moments of waiting. Would the workers beyond obey +their leader? Had they become suspicious, and were even now massing +for a surprise attack? Grant had no means of telling. + +Then to his ears came the most welcome soft roar of muted rockets. A +huge shape swept over the high wall, soared directly over the Gorm, +and nestled down in little jets of flame until the stern rested on the +solid rock, and the bow swung idly over the brilliant pool. + +"Keep your gun trained on this bird," Grant told Nona swiftly. She +nodded. The air-lock door on the ship was already sliding open. A +Ganymedan, space-suited, was coming through. He saw them, tried to +spring back into the shelter of the ship. But a blue ray stabbed out +and caught him in mid-flight. There was a spatter of dust, and the +hapless creature disintegrated into thin air. + +"Sorry I had to do it, but I couldn't afford to let him give the +alarm. Now for the dirty work, Nona. You hustle this big bully into +the ship, and keep him covered. I'll be right along." + +The girl cast him a look of anxiety. "What do you intend doing?" + +"Don't worry," he assured her; "I won't get hurt." + +After he had seen them within the liner, he got to work. First he +brought out from the ship coils of wiring and jumbles of instruments. +He took them over to the edge of the Gorm, to the place where he had +seen Miro pull the switch, and for the next ten minutes was busy +connecting wires, attaching batteries, putting his instruments in +place. Then, when he was satisfied that everything was ready, he +reversed the switch. The great space-ship, some fifty feet away, was +already trembling in every line. + +Just as he was rising to sprint for the slowly moving liner, he heard +a smooth rushing noise. He whirled. The slide was opening in the wall. +A mob of Ganymedans were pouring through. They paused uncertainly a +moment, then, as they spied him, there was a concerted rush forward. + +Grant acted quickly. Already the space-ship was off the ground, +soaring upward. He had not an instant to spare. He dove toward it. The +mob yelled, and raced forward to cut him off. His pencil-ray was +useless--the distance was too great for its limited range. But then, +that applied equally to the weapons of the Ganymedans. + + * * * * * + +The blue rays snapped forward at him angrily, but fell short. The ship +was moving faster now. It was already several feet off the ground. +Grant's heavy space-suit impeded his progress. The charging Ganymedans +were dangerously close now. That last beam had missed him by inches. +The ship was gathering speed. He was five feet away from the open +air-lock when they got the range. A sharp searing pain right across +his shoulder. The creatoid material of his suit was cut away as with a +knife. A layer of flesh lay exposed. The skin had been whiffed into +nothingness. + +But that very instant he was leaping off the ground with a mighty +effort. The ship was going upward with a rush now. His fingers clawed +desperately at the edge of the air-lock. For one breathless instant he +clung; then, to his horror, the smooth creatoid covering refused to +hold. Slowly he slipped, in spite of every effort, as the surface of +the hull refused purchase to his bleeding hands, then down he went +with a thud. + +A cry of triumph arose from the onrushing Ganymedans as Grant +scrambled to his feet, bruised and shaken. He cast a swift, despairing +glance upward. The huge liner was a hundred feet up now, gathering +speed swiftly. To one side was the Gorm, a place of dread and menace. +The gloating enemy were almost upon him. Even the comfort of a weapon, +the grim satisfaction of taking some of his foes to death with him, +was denied him. + +The pencil-ray had been jarred out of his hand by the impact and had +doubtless fallen into the Gorm. + +Grant felt that he had come to the end of the rope. There was no +tremor of fear in him, only regret that he had met the girl and lost +her so soon. What would she do, out in space, alone with Miro? No time +to think of that now, though. The foremost of the Ganymedans were +almost upon him. They intended taking him alive, did they? He braced +himself for the attack, ready to go down fighting. + + * * * * * + +Then a brilliant plan beat suddenly upon his dazzled mind. It was +breath-taking, so simple, yet so desperate did it appear. If it +worked--he would win through. If not--but Grant dismissed that thought +quickly; one form of death was no worse than another. + +Without an instant's hesitation, he whirled and jumped as high as he +could--directly over the Gorm! There was a yell of astonishment from +the Ganymedans--one had already clutched at his intended victim--as +they fell back in horror from the edge. This Earthling was mad to +brave the terrors of the Gorm! + +But Grant heard nothing. He was instantly conscious of a searing, +racking pain that penetrated his every fiber. He forced his eyes +upward, anywhere but beneath him. Was his theory correct, or was he +destined to drop into the fiery lake. For a single interminable +instant, he suffered untold agonies. + +Then his body quivered, and he felt an unmistakable push against him. +He was moving upward, just as he had hoped. The Gorm was repelling +him, even as it had the ship. + +Faster and faster he shot up, chasing the liner. Would he catch up +with it? He strained his eyes. Exultation flooded through him as he +realized that the distance was rapidly lessening between them. The +added impetus of his leap over the Gorm had given him the required +extra fillip of speed. By now, rays were streaking by him. + +Soon he was directly underneath. For an instant he had a quick fear +that he might overshoot his mark. But no--he was sliding past the open +air-lock. He threw himself sideways and caught at it. This time his +fingers held. + +As he squirmed and wriggled into the lock, they were already careening +into the orange tube through the red swirling clouds. There was no +longer any air. Choking, he managed with numbed fingers to screw his +helmet on. Then, closing the lock, he proceeded into the ship. + +Nona was guarding her prisoner vigilantly. Miro sat there, sullen, +defiant. Her glad, welcoming cry filled Grant with a new strange +warmth. + +"I was so afraid for you when the ship started and you didn't show +up," she said, "but I didn't dare leave him alone." She indicated +Miro. + +"Good girl," he said admiringly. "We'll bind him now and then I want +to show you something." + + * * * * * + +They stood a little later at the bow quartz port-hole. Down the long +shaft through which they had risen they saw the glaring flame of the +Gorm. As they looked, its regular pulsations turned irregular: it +leaped and splashed as though it was a stormy, choppy sea. Then it +gave one final mighty heave, and the universe seemed to shatter +beneath them. The "walls" of the shaft collapsed about them and they +were enswathed in a raging storm of red clouds. + +Nona turned to Grant. "Now, will you explain?" + +"Certainly," he grinned boyishly. "I simply reversed the switch that +changes the current of the Gorm. I knew that it would then repel the +liner out into space, as Miro was incautious enough to inform me. + +"Then I figured that if instead of direct current, an alternating flow +could be induced, so as to attract and repel in quick succession, +enough of a disturbance would be raised in that highly unstable +mixture to start fireworks. So I rigged up an automatic break in the +circuit, timed it to permit us to get up enough speed from the +repulsion to be safely on our way before it would start. The +circuit-breaker worked and the alternating current did the rest. That +island is wiped out, and so is the Gorm. There'll be no further threat +of danger to the solar system from that." + +"And Miro, what are we going to do with him?" + +"Turn him over to the Service. They'll take care of him. And now, +young lady, if you have no further questions, shall I say it again?" + +She smiled up at him tenderly, answering: + +"If you wish." + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pirates of the Gorm, by Nat Schachner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIRATES OF THE GORM *** + +***** This file should be named 29299-8.txt or 29299-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/9/29299/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, 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 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: Pirates of the Gorm + +Author: Nat Schachner + +Release Date: July 3, 2009 [EBook #29299] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIRATES OF THE GORM *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Astounding Stories May 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> +<p> </p> +</div> +<div class="center"><img src="images/image_001.jpg" alt="" width="500" height="742" /></div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figright"><img src="images/image_002_01.jpg" alt="" width="600" height="455" /></div> +<div class="figright"><img src="images/image_002_02.jpg" alt="" width="300" height="564" /></div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + + +<p class="f1">Pirates of the Gorm</p> + +<p class="f2"> By Nat Schachner</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="sidenote">The trail of vanished space ships leads Grant Pemberton to +a marvellous lake of fire.</div> + + +<p><span class="f3">G</span>rant Pemberton sat up suddenly in his berth, every sense straining +and alert. What was it that had awakened him in the deathly stillness +of the space-flier? His right hand slid under the pillow and clutched +the handle of his gun. Its firm coolness was a comforting reality.</p> + +<p>There it was again. A tiny scratching on the door as though someone +was fumbling for the slide-switch. Very quietly he sat, waiting, his +finger poised against the trigger. Suddenly the scratching ceased, and +the panel moved slowly open. A thin oblong patch glimmered in the +light of the corridor beyond. Grant tensed grimly.</p> + +<p>A hand moved slowly around the slit—a hand that held a pencil-ray. +Even in the dim illumination, Grant noted the queer spatulate fingers. +A Ganymedan! In the entire solar system only they had those strange +appendages.</p> + +<p>Pemberton catapulted out of his berth like a flash. Not a moment too +soon, either. A pale blue beam slithered across the blackness, +impinged upon the pillow where his head had lain only a moment before. +The air-cushion disintegrated into smoldering dust. Grant's weapon +spat viciously. A hail of tiny bullets rattled against the panel, and +exploded, each in a puffball of flame.</p> + +<p>But it was too late. Already the unknown enemy was running swiftly +down the corridor, the sucking patter of his feet giving more evidence +of his Ganymedan origin. Pemberton sprang to the door, thrust it open +just in time to see a dark shape disappearing around a bend in the +corridor. There was no use of pursuit; the passageway ended in a spray +of smaller corridors, from which ambush would be absurdly easy.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">H</span>e glanced swiftly around. The corridor was empty, silent in the dim, +diffused light. The motley passengers were all sound asleep; no one +had been disturbed by the fracas. Earthmen, green-faced Martians, +fish-scaled Venusians, spatulate Ganymedans and homeward-bound +Callistans, all reposing through the sleep-period in anticipation of +an early landing in Callisto.</p> + +<p>All were asleep, that is, but one. That brought Pemberton back to the +problem of his mysterious assailant. Why had this Ganymedan tried to +whiff him out of existence? Grant frowned. No one on board knew of his +mission, not even the captain. On the passenger list he was merely +Dirk Halliday, an inconspicuous commercial traveler for Interspace +Products. Yet someone had manifestly penetrated his disguise and was +eager to remove him from the path of whatever deviltry was up. Who?</p> + +<p>Grant gave a little start, then swore softly. Of course! Why hadn't he +thought of it before! The scene came back to him, complete in every +detail, as though he were once more back on Earth, in the small, +simply furnished office of the Interplanetary Secret Service.</p> + +<p>The Chief of the Service was glancing up at him keenly. Beside him was +a tall, powerfully shouldered Ganymedan, Miro, Inspector for Ganymede. +Grant looked at him with a faint distaste as he sat there, drumming on +the arm of his chair with his spatulate fingers, his soft-suction +padded hoofs curled queerly under the seat. There was something +furtive, too, about the red lidless eyes that shifted with quick +unwinking movements.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">B</span>ut then, Pemberton had small use for the entire tribe of Ganymedans. +Damned pirates, that's all they were. It was not many years back since +they had been the scourge of the solar system, harrying spatial +commerce with their swift piratical fliers, burning and slaying for +the mere lust of it.</p> + +<p>That is, until an armada of Earth space-fliers had broken their power +in one great battle. The stricken corsairs were compelled to disgorge +their accumulations of plunder, give up all their fliers and armament, +and above all, the import of metals was forbidden them. For, +strangely enough, none of the metallic elements was to be found on +Ganymede. All their weapons, all their ships, were forged of metals +from the other planets.</p> + +<p>It was now five years since Ganymede had been admitted once again to +the Planetary League, after suitable declarations of repentance. But +the prohibitions still held. And Grant placed small faith in the +sincerity of the repentance.</p> + +<p>The Chief was speaking.</p> + +<p>"We've called you in—Miro and I," he said, in his usual swift, +staccato manner, "because we've agreed that you are the best man in +the Service to handle the mission we have in mind."</p> + +<p>Grant said nothing.</p> + +<p>"It's a particularly dangerous affair," the Chief continued. "Five +great space-fliers, traveling along regular traffic routes, have all +vanished within the space of a month—passengers, crews and all. Not a +trace of them can be found."</p> + +<p>"No radio reports, sir?"</p> + +<p>"That's the most curious part of the whole business. Everyone of the +fliers was equipped with apparatus that could have raised the entire +solar system with a call for help, and yet not the tiniest whisper was +heard."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">T</span>he Chief got up and paced the floor agitatedly. It was plain that +this business was worrying him. Miro continued to sit calmly, +seemingly indifferent. "It's uncanny, I tell you. Gone as though empty +space had swallowed them up."</p> + +<p>"You've applied routine methods, of course," Grant ventured.</p> + +<p>"Of course," the Chief waved it aside impatiently. "But we can't +discover a thing. Battle fliers have patrolled the area without +success. The last ship was literally snatched away right under the +nose of a convoy. One minute it was in radio communication, and the +next—whiff—it was gone."</p> + +<p>"Where is this area you mention?" Already Pemberton's razor-edged +brain was at work on the problem.</p> + +<p>"Within a radius of five million miles from Jupiter. We've naturally +considered placing an embargo upon that territory, but that would mean +cutting off all of the satellites from the rest of the system."</p> + +<p>Miro stirred. His smooth slurred voice rolled out.</p> + +<p>"And my planet would suffer, my friend. Alas, it has already suffered +too much." He evoked a sigh from somewhere in the depths of his barrel +chest, and tried to cast up his small red eyes.</p> + +<p>Grant suffered too, a faint disgust. Damn his eyes, what business had +an erstwhile pirate, not too recently reformed, being self-righteous?</p> + +<p>"Miro thinks," the Chief continued unheeding, "that the Callistans +know more about this than they admit. He has a theory that Callisto is +somehow gathering up these ships to use in a surprise attack against +his own planet, Ganymede. He says Callisto has always hated them."</p> + +<p>"Damn good reason," Grant said laconically.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">M</span>iro's lidless eyes flamed into sudden life. "And what do you mean by +that, my friend?"</p> + +<p>Pemberton replied calmly. "Simply that your people have harried and +ravaged them for untold centuries. They were your nearest prey, you +know."</p> + +<p>Miro sprang to his feet, his soft suction pads gripping the floor as +though preparatory to a spring. Gone was the sanctimonious unction of +his former behavior; the ruthless savage glared out of the red eyes, +the flattened fingers were twisting and curling.</p> + +<p>"You beastly Earthling," he cried in a voice choked with rage, +"I'll—"</p> + +<p>The Chief intervened swiftly. "Here, none of that," he said sharply to +Miro. "Don't say anything you'll regret later." Then he turned to +Grant, who was steadily holding his ground: "There was no reason, +Pemberton, to insult an inspector of the Service. Consider yourself +reprimanded." But the edge of the rebuke was taken off by the slight +twinkle in the Chief's eye.</p> + +<p>Somehow a truce was patched up. Grant was to ship as an ordinary +passenger on the <i>Althea</i>, the great passenger liner that plied +between Callisto and the Earth. It was not his duty to prevent the +disappearance of the vessel, the Chief insisted, but to endeavor to +discover the cause. It was up to Grant then to escape, if he could, +and to report to Miro on Ganymede immediately with his findings. Miro +was leaving by his private Service flier at once for Ganymede, to +await him. Grant thought he saw a faint sardonic gleam in the +Inspector's eyes at that, but paid no particular heed to it at the +time.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">N</span>ow, as Grant stood in the corridor of the great space-flier, +listening intently for further sounds from his hidden foe, it flashed +on him. Miro knew he was on board. It was a Ganymedan who had +treacherously attacked him. The puzzle was slowly fitting its pieces +together. But the major piece still eluded him. What would happen to +the ship?</p> + +<p>As he turned to go back to his room, a ripping, tearing, grinding +sound came to his startled ears. It was followed by a sudden swishing +noise. Grant knew what that meant. A meteor had ripped into the vitals +of the space-flier, and the precious air was rushing through the +fissure into outer space. He whirled without an instant's hesitation +and sprang down the long corridor toward the captain's quarters. If +caught in time, the hole could be plugged.</p> + +<p>Even as he ran, there was another grinding smash, then another, and +another. Good Lord, they must have headed right into a meteor shower. +Panels were sliding open, and people, scantily attired, thrust +startled heads out into the corridor. Someone called after him, but he +did not heed or stop his headlong race. He must get to the control +room at once.</p> + +<p>Already the air in the corridor was a sucking whirlpool that beat and +eddied about him in its mad rush to escape. It sounded like the +drumbeat of unsilenced exploders. A meteor shower of unprecedented +proportions! In the back of Grant's mind as he ran, hammered a +thought. Every swarm of meteors in the solar system was carefully +plotted. The lanes of travel were routed to avoid them. There was no +known shower in this particular area!</p> + +<p>He collided violently with a strange ungainly figure. In his desperate +haste he did not give much heed, but tried to push his way past. The +figure turned on him, and then Grant stopped short, an exclamation +frozen to his lips. Red unwinking eyes stared out at him from goggles +set in a helmet. The body was completely inclosed in lusterless +creatoid. It was a Ganymedan in a space-suit!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">G</span>rant saw the quick movement of the other toward an open side flap. He +did not hesitate an instant. His fist shot out and caught the +Ganymedan flush in the throat, while his left hand simultaneously +seized the creatoid-covered arm that gripped a pencil-ray. The +helmeted head went back with a sickening thud. But the Ganymedan was +a powerful brute. Even as he staggered back from the force of the +blow, vainly trying to release the pencil-ray for action, his right +foot jerked forward. The next moment both were rolling on the floor, +twisting and heaving in silent combat. Frightened passengers rushed +down the corridor, screaming with terror, half carried along by the +hurricane wind, clambering over the combatants in an insane desire to +get away, where, they knew not; and still neither relaxed his grip, +seeking a mortal hold.</p> + +<p>Pemberton was certain that his silent unknown foe held the clue to the +mystery he was trying to fathom. He fought on, silently, grimly. The +cold creatoid fabric was slippery, but a sudden jerk of an arm, a +certain quick twist that Grant was familiar with, and his enemy went +limp. Grant's breath was coming in quick, labored gasps. There was +very little air left now. But he did not care. He tugged at the +fastenings on the helmet. He must see who his captive was, wrest from +him the heart of the mystery.</p> + +<p>There came a clatter of feet behind him, a sudden rush of space-suited +figures that overwhelmed and passed over him with trampling strides. +He was torn loose from his prey, rolled over and over, gasping for +air. When he staggered to his feet again, bruised and shaken, the +corridor was swept clean of figures. His assailants had carried his +opponent away with them.</p> + +<p>A wild surge of anger swept through him. More Ganymedans, these +rescuers, all accoutered for airless space. They had been carefully +prepared for this. Heedless of all else, he swayed groggily after +them, intent only on joining battle once again. The illumination was +dim now, the cries of fear that had rung through the ship were gone; +only a deathly silence reigned now. His lungs were burning for want +of air; even the whirlwind had died down for lack of fuel. But still +he kept on, like a bloodhound on the trail.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">H</span>e rounded a corner. A slight figure, swaying like a reed, collided +with him and would have fallen if he had not thrust out a supporting +arm. It was a girl. Even in the shadowy light he saw that she was +beautiful. Her delicately molded features were drained white, but her +deep pooled eyes were level in their gaze, unafraid.</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry," he managed, finding utterance labored, "Are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>"Quite all right," she said, with a wan smile, "if only I had some air +to breathe."</p> + +<p>The essential bravery of her touched him. He forgot all about the +escaped Ganymedans.</p> + +<p>"We'll have to try some other portion of the ship. Maybe some of the +bulkheads are uninjured."</p> + +<p>She shook her head. "I just saw the captain," she enunciated faintly. +"Every bulkhead is riddled. Said—I—should get space-suit—in +stateroom—though no use—doomed. Something wrong—wireless—not +working...." Her voice trailed. She had fainted.</p> + +<p>Grant caught up her slight form and lurched unsteadily into the +nearest cabin. The blood was roaring in his ears now, his heart was +pumping madly, but he forced himself on. His eyes strained toward the +compartment where the emergency space-suit was neatly compacted. Thank +God. It was still there. The inmate had evidently rushed out at the +first alarm to join the terror-maddened crush.</p> + +<p>Pemberton worked with feverish haste. Somehow he thrust the +unconscious girl into the suit, tightened the helmet into position, +opened the valve that started the steady measured flow of life-giving +oxygen. Then, with dark spots dancing before his eyes, he deposited +her gently on the floor, and managed to force himself in the now +almost total darkness toward another room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">H</span>is swelling hands fumbled. The compartment was empty. Despairing, +conscious only of a desire to lie down, to rest, he tried another. It, +too, was empty. He stumbled over sprawled bodies, fell, managed to get +up again. Again he fumbled into a compartment. The clammy feel of the +creatoid never was more welcome. His breath was coming in whistling +gasps. It seemed ages of strangulation before the first cool rush of +oxygen expanded his tortured lungs. For a full minute he stood there, +inhaling deep draughts. Then once more he was himself, his brain +functioning with keen clarity.</p> + +<p>He must find the Ganymedans and come to grips with them. There was no +doubt in his mind that somehow they had been responsible for the +cataclysm. Just how, he did not know, but he would find out.</p> + +<p>But the girl. He could not leave her. Duty and something else stirred +into conflict. He hesitated. In the flap of the suit was an emergency +flash. Throwing the beam on the walls and flooring, he managed to +retrace his steps to the cabin where he had left her. As he flashed it +inside, his heart gave a great bound. She was standing now.</p> + +<p>"Feel all right?" he spoke into the tiny transmitter that was part of +the regulation equipment.</p> + +<p>"Fine." Her warm, rich voice spoke in his ear. "But I'm not thinking +of myself. Are the others on board safe? What happened?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we are the only ones alive," he told her gravely. "As to +what happened, I can only guess. We seem to have hit an unusually +heavy meteor shower that riddled us through and through, though—" He +paused.</p> + +<p>"Though what?"</p> + +<p>He ignored her question. "The first thing we've got to do is find out +where we are." His flash sought the window switch and found it. He +went over and pressed it. A section of the beryllium-steel casing slid +smoothly open, disclosing a thick flawless quartzite port. He stared +out at the dark pattern of space. Long he gazed, then a stifled +exclamation reached the girl.</p> + +<p>"What is it?" she cried.</p> + +<p>"Come and look," he told her gravely, and made room for her.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">A</span>t first she saw only the unwinking stars of space. Then her eyes +shifted forward. Jupiter lay ahead, a vast cloud-girt disk. It was +ominously near. Somehow it gave the effect of rushing straight at her.</p> + +<p>Right along the equator floated, or seemed to float, a huge red +oval—the Great Red Spot of Jupiter. She had heard of it before. But +what caught her immediate attention was a tiny flare of intense +illumination, right in the very heart of the Spot. Bright orange it +was, tinged with yellow, dazzling even at this distance. She watched +it eagerly. Then she gave a sudden start.</p> + +<p>"You've seen it." Grant's voice sounded quietly in her helmet.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why, it—it pulsates!"</p> + +<p>"Exactly. Now look along the hull of the ship."</p> + +<p>She did so, and gasped again. The steel-shod sides were bathed in an +unearthly orange glow.</p> + +<p>"Why, that must be the light from the orange spot down there."</p> + +<p>Grant nodded. "Yes, and more than that. They are power waves of a +nature that we've known nothing of before. We are being pulled down +along that beam straight for Jupiter, straight for the source of that +light!"</p> + +<p>"But that means there are intelligent beings on Jupiter."</p> + +<p>"No doubt."</p> + +<p>"But—but everyone know that there's no life on Jupiter. It's a frozen +waste swathed in impenetrable whirlwind clouds."</p> + +<p>"How does everyone know?" Grant retorted. "Has anyone ever penetrated +through those clouds?"</p> + +<p>"No," she admitted; "though there have been plenty of expeditions that +tried, and never came back."</p> + +<p>"That of course doesn't prove anything. Mind you," he added. "I didn't +say there was native life existing on Jupiter. I merely said there +were intelligent beings operating that illumination."</p> + +<p>"Who could it be then?"</p> + +<p>"We'll find out when we get down there."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">T</span>he very calmness of his matter-of-fact statement brought her back +abruptly to their precarious situation.</p> + +<p>"But, great heavens, we'll smash and be killed. Can't we do +something?"</p> + +<p>"We'll not smash." Grant said positively. "Though very likely we shall +be killed. As for doing something, we can only wait and take our +chances, if the gentry who are hauling us in will only give us an +opportunity. You know," he added with a fine inconsecutiveness, "I +don't even know your name."</p> + +<p>She bubbled with sudden laughter. "Nona—Nona Gail. I was on my way to +Callisto, to meet my father," she explained. "He's an engineer, doing +some construction work for Interspace Products. But now that I've told +you all, what and who may you be?"</p> + +<p>He was frank. There was now no need for concealment. "Grant +Pemberton, an unimportant unit of the Interplanetary Secret Service."</p> + +<p>"Then you knew that the trip would be dangerous," she challenged.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Why did you come?"</p> + +<p>"It is part of my duties."</p> + +<p>There was silence between them. He turned to stare out of the quartz +port-hole again. Jupiter was perceptibly nearer; an enormous, convex +globe that blotted out half the heavens. They were being drawn at a +frightful velocity toward the mysterious pulsating point, now blinding +in its brilliance.</p> + +<p>They both saw it simultaneously: a space-suited figure, far out in the +depths of interstellar space, caught up in a sudden flare of orange +illumination. The strange figure seemed to whirl around, straighten +up, and shoot at breakneck speed headlong for Jupiter. Behind it, and +in a direct line with the winking flame in the Great Spot, another +space denizen glowed luridly, startlingly, out of the blackness +beyond, whirled, and shot down the long invisible path.</p> + +<p>Nona cried out: "Grant, tell me quickly, what are they; what is +pulling them?"</p> + +<p>Even as she spoke, more and more figures were blazoned in that orange +ray, until a long file of beings were catapulting in a single straight +line past the space-ship, outdistancing it until they became faint +specks in the distance.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">P</span>emberton's hand was upon her shoulder, his eyes literally blazing +through the goggles, while his voice shouted in her ears. "Come with +me: We haven't a second to lose."</p> + +<p>"But," she gasped, "you haven't told me—"</p> + +<p>"No time," he interrupted, and, shoving her in front of him, he rushed +her through corridor after corridor until they came to the air-lock +of the liner.</p> + +<p>"If only we have time," he groaned, and cursed himself for a bungling +fool for not having surmised the maneuver earlier.</p> + +<p>Just as he had expected, the great lock was open. The ship was as +silent as the grave. There was no air anywhere, only the unutterably +cold airlessness of space. Without pausing in his headlong rush, he +pushed the bewildered girl through the open port, out into the +overwhelming, intangible blackness. Nona's smothered cry of fear came +to him as the next instant he stepped forward and left the solid +footing to float in sudden weightlessness in a vast sea of +nothingness.</p> + +<p>The girl reached out and caught his arm convulsively. Even through the +fabric of their suits he could feel her trembling. Pemberton had taken +good care to retain a hold on the edge of the open air-lock. The two +swung unsteadily.</p> + +<p>"What is the reason for this?" Grant sensed, rather, than heard, the +tremor in her voice. She was making a desperate effort to control +herself. "We'll be lost—out here in space."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," he said soothingly. "I'll explain in due course. In the +meantime you'll have to trust me. Did you see where that invisible ray +held when it illumined the last Ganymedan?"</p> + +<p>"Ganymedan?" she echoed in surprise. "What makes you think—"</p> + +<p>"Never mind that. Did you?" he insisted.</p> + +<p>"Yes," she admitted, "it was about over there." She indicated the spot +with an outthrust arm. "About a hundred yards, I should judge."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," he agreed. "Well, young lady, our lives, and far more, +depend upon our reaching that exact line in space immediately."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you are talking about, but even so, how can we +make it? I'm not a rocket."</p> + +<p>"It's difficult, I admit, but we must. Now hold on tight to my arm, +and press your feet firmly against the wall of the ship." She obeyed.</p> + +<p>"Now when I count three, shove off violently, and pray that we're +going straight. Are you game?"</p> + +<p>She stiffened; then, very slowly, "All right; start counting."</p> + +<p>"Good girl," Grant said approvingly. "One—two—th-r-ee-ee!"</p> + +<p>They flexed their legs in perfect unison. And shoved off.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">O</span>ut into the blackness of space they shot, lost to all sense of +motion: yet the hull of the space-flier, dimly gleaming in the thin +light of the far off sun, retreated from them with terrifying +swiftness.</p> + +<p>They were alone in space! It was an uncanny, a horribly helpless +sensation. All about them was infinity, a vast void out of which +peered at them the cold, unwinking stars. They were like swimmers in +mid-ocean, without even the buoyant feel of the salt water to comfort +them.</p> + +<p>Nona's grip on Grant's arm was agonizing in its intensity.</p> + +<p>"Scared?" Grant queried.</p> + +<p>"A—a little," she admitted; "but don't bother about me. I'm all +right."</p> + +<p>She could be depended upon to keep up her end, Grant thought +admiringly.</p> + +<p>On and on they floated in the welter of space. And still there was no +ray, nothing but unrelieved blackness. Pemberton was somewhat worried. +Had the saving ray been quenched at the source? Were they too late? If +so, they were doomed to a frightful obliterating fall to the surface +of the planet, or worse still, they were destined to swing endlessly +in space. Already the liner was far away, out of their grasp, even +had they desired to return.</p> + +<p>His breath was coming in quick gasps now. "Scared?" he once more asked +the silent figure beside him.</p> + +<p>"Frightfully—but carry on. We'll get there, wherever it is."</p> + +<p>Her gay determination strengthened him wonderfully. On and on they +floated.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the dim, dark bulk of the girl caught the uncanny orange +light. The next instant the creatoid fabric of his own suit caught it, +too.</p> + +<p>"Thank God," he cried joyously. "It's still on. Just relax, Nona, the +ray will take care of us now."</p> + +<p>He felt a powerful tug at his body, he was whirled completely around, +and then there was a steady pull. He was being catapulted down the ray +to the mysterious point of brilliance in the Great Red Spot. The girl +was right beside him. The space-liner was passed with a smooth rush, +and soon receded to a dwindling speck.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">"N</span>ow will you explain?" asked Nona impatiently, after she had caught +her breath in sudden relief.</p> + +<p>Grant stretched luxuriously before he began.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. There's nothing for us now to do but wait until we get +pulled down to Jupiter, and that'll take some time. I hope we look +like Ganymedans."</p> + +<p>"Will you get on with your story!" she cried.</p> + +<p>He obeyed. He started from the beginning and went right up to the time +when he had so rudely thrust her out into space.</p> + +<p>"You see," he explained. "I had put the puzzle together a bit, but +there were still pieces missing. For instance, those chaps down there +know that every space-liner is equipped with emergency space-suits. +Why pull the ship down with live men on board? That would naturally +mean a fight, and we have no mean weapons, what with disintegrator +ray-projectors and explosive electro-bullets." Then, again, for some +reason, there were Ganymedans on board. They would very likely be +whiffed out in the mêlée. The ship might be destroyed also, and they +evidently are very careful about getting the ship down intact. The +little meteor holes can easily be plugged up, and the liner made as +good as new. At least that was my guess.</p> + +<p>"I was trying to puzzle it out, rather hopelessly," he continued, +"when I saw the ray out in space pick up those floating figures. That +was the last little piece in the jigsaw.</p> + +<p>"The Ganymedans evidently had to leave the ship because, as it +approaches the planet, something will be done to kill off any +unfortunates who are still alive, waiting their chance to fight the +invisible enemy. Possibly a penetrating lethal gas that will be forced +into the interior. So they evolved the ray to carry the Ganymedan +passengers down gently, safely. And we are stowaways," he concluded +grimly.</p> + +<p>Nona had listened intently to the long recital.</p> + +<p>"But why," she expostulated, "was it necessary to have their own +people on board? The meteors that riddled the ship were projectiles +shot from their station on Jupiter. So was the attraction-ray that +pulls the ship down."</p> + +<p>"Because they required a sufficient force to disable the radio +apparatus. All radio waves used on interplanetary liners are shielded +from interference. It is impossible to blank them out. And with the +radio intact, every battle flier in space would be on their trail in a +hurry."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">S</span>everal hours passed, and still they fell endlessly through space, +unaware of their motion except that Jupiter was now a huge orb +blotting out the universe. The grim face of the giant planet was +enswathed in endless billowing clouds. No one had ever penetrated to +the real core. But what held their eager, straining attention was a +vast blood red disk, cyclonic in character, directly beneath them. The +Great Red Spot! And immediately in the center of it was the tiny, +blindingly brilliant yellow orange oval, winking up at them with +quick, steady pulsations.</p> + +<p>"What can it be?" Nona wondered.</p> + +<p>"The source of their power, evidently. But what interests me more just +now is where the Ganymedans have their hangout in those clouds, and +what they're doing with the ships they capture."</p> + +<p>Jupiter was now a flat level stretch that reached on all sides as far +as the eye could see. Grant felt a sudden sensation of weight again, +as though something was pressing with crushing force against his +chest.</p> + +<p>"Hello," he said, "our fall is being checked. They're making sure +their friends come to no harm." And he laughed bitterly, thinking of +the men and women lying with lungs ruptured, cold and stiff, in the +interior of the <i>Althea</i>; of the possible few wretches who had managed +to huddle into space-suits, ignorant of the deadly gas that was soon +to search out their seemingly impenetrable habiliments.</p> + +<p>Slowly, ever more slowly, they fell. Thin wisps of reddish vapor +rushed upward toward them, and then they were enveloped in vast swirls +of cloud masses. They were within the Great Spot!</p> + +<p>Then the lurid clouds parted suddenly, revealing a deep hole, at the +bottom of which flamed and flared the mysterious yellow-orange +brilliance. Down the long shaft they fell, while all around its +invisible walls dark red cyclones stirred and beat in vain.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">J</span>ust as it seemed as if they were doomed to fall headlong into the +blaze, they were swerved violently into an opening that angled off +from the main shaft. Down this branching shaft they continued to +fall—interminably—when suddenly it widened, and they were dropping +through the interior of a great dome of which the arched roof was the +swirling clouds they had just penetrated. Directly beneath floated a +flat island of smooth rock, supported and upheld by a shining sea of +vapors.</p> + +<p>The girl exclaimed sharply, but Grant only nodded to himself with grim +satisfaction. He had expected something like this. For, clustered in +serried rows at the end of the island directly beneath them were +sleek, stream-lined grayhounds of the interplanetary traffic lanes, +now resting immovably on the smooth gray stone—the missing +space-liners!</p> + +<p>The island was bisected by a huge forbidding wall, over which, at +their angle, Grant was unable to see.</p> + +<p>The ground was encumbered too with clumps of intricate machinery, all +of the same polished gray stone; Ganymedan stone, Ganymedan machinery, +Pemberton recognized at once. Hundreds of figures were scurrying +awkwardly around, clad in the inevitable space-suit. Several were +working desperately at a huge concave glass reflector. Others were +pointing a stone nozzle, extending out of a pit, directly upward.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid." Nona shuddered and pressed closer to Grant.</p> + +<p>"Don't be," he assured her. "Just say nothing when we land. Let me do +the talking."</p> + +<p>All this while they had been floating gently downward toward what they +now saw to be a miniature replica of the vaster orange brightness at +the bottom of the main shaft from which they had been diverted. It was +a pool of liquid fire, so intense in its brilliance that their eyes +were dazzled staring at it. It rose and fell in regular pulsations. +They were not far above it now, and still no one on the strange island +seemed to be aware of their coming.</p> + +<p>Nona cried out, "Grant, we're going to fall right into it!"</p> + +<p>Pemberton looked down at the small fiery pool with anxious eyes. +Unless something happened, and that quickly, they would be seared to a +crisp. Already the heat was uncomfortable, even through their suits. +He tried to kick himself aside, but the pull of the liquid was too +powerful for him. Then he resolved on a desperate expedient.</p> + +<p>"Say, you fellows down there," he cried in the smooth, slurred +Ganymedan speech. "What are you trying to do, fry us? Hurry up and +prepare our landing."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">F</span>or a moment they were tense with the tenseness of imminent death. +Were the Ganymedans equipped with communication disks; would they +sense the strangeness of the accent? Nona was gripping his hand with a +pressure that penetrated the fabric. And every second brought them +down closer and closer to the dread lake.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" Nona's breath came in a shuddering sigh. For one of the figures +glanced upward and saw them dropping. He shouted something to his +fellows, and darted for a lever set in the stone next to the pool. He +threw it over swiftly. Immediately what seemed to be a smooth slab of +transparent glassite shot into position over the pulsating flame, not +an instant too soon, either, for it had barely covered the flaming +death when the Earthlings' feet were already touching it.</p> + +<p>"It would have served you two fools right if I had let you drop in," +their savior grumbled disgustedly. "What in Jupiter took you so long? +Everyone else arrived hours ago. Didn't know there were any more."</p> + +<p>"Sorry, but we couldn't help it," Grant responded carefully. "You see, +we got mixed up in a scrap with some Earthmen who evidently suspected +us, just as we were diving out of the air-lock. We had the devil's own +job of beating them off."</p> + +<p>"You too! The Chief came down foaming at the mouth. Some dumb Earthman +almost throttled him before he got away. He swears he'll blast Earth +out of space. He's that mad. But here, I've got no time to be talking +to your fellows. I've got work to do. Better report to the Chief at +once, and heaven help you. He's sure in a black rage at this minute."</p> + +<p>With that he moved away, over to the gang of Ganymedans holding the +stone nozzle and looking expectantly up at the large, round hole in +the cloud ceiling.</p> + +<p>Nona stood close to Grant. "What are they doing with the queer +affair?" She indicated the nozzle.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid we'll find out only too soon," he answered grimly. +"Look—" he broke off.</p> + +<p>Far overhead, through the great round orifice, darted a tremendous +shape, pointed, glittering.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's the <i>Althea</i>," Nona exclaimed.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Now watch. Damn—all we can do is watch," Grant gritted between +his teeth.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">D</span>own sped the gleaming liner, pride of the fleet. The men at the +mirror were swerving it on gimbals until a ray from it flashed on the +burnished nose. As though it were a physical impact, the vessel +slackened its tremendous speed and hung suspended midway between the +cloud concavity and the island.</p> + +<p>The men with the nozzle spurred into activity. A thin stream of fluid +shot out of the orifice straight up for the captive liner. The tip of +the expanding spray impinged on the hull—and Nona gasped her +astonishment. For the liquid passed clean through the hull as though +it were a porous network instead of four-inch thick beryllium-steel.</p> + +<p>"Just as I thought," Grant groaned. "Lethal gas that penetrates +everything. Those poor people on board—for their own sakes I hope +none remained alive to hit this."</p> + +<p>"Can't we do anything?" Nona asked desperately.</p> + +<p>"Nothing for the <i>Althea</i>. But plenty to prevent any more disasters +like it." There was a hard ring to his voice. "Come on." He stepped +off the transparent slab onto the stone floor of the island.</p> + +<p>"Where to?" asked Nona, following.</p> + +<p>"We're going to locate that orange oval we saw from the <i>Althea</i>. +That's the secret of all this. The pool of liquid fire here is +unimportant, secondary."</p> + +<p>They were at one edge of the floating island. The other side was +hidden from them by the solid wall that stretched across its full +diameter.</p> + +<p>"We'll scout beyond there," Grant pointed out. "I'll miss my guess if +what we're looking for is not on the other side."</p> + +<p>As they started for the wall, they saw the Althea brought slowly down +to the rock, another captive to swell the motionless fleet. It did +not take them long to reach the barrier. Some fifty feet high it was, +of smooth polished Ganymedan stone, and no door or opening in its +straight unbroken surface.</p> + +<p>"How shall we get through?" Nona asked.</p> + +<p>Grant surveyed it thoughtfully.</p> + +<p>"There must be a hidden spring somewhere," he said.</p> + +<p>He walked carelessly along the wall, tapping it idly here and there. +His quick probing fingers were searching.</p> + +<p>With a sharp "Ah!" he stopped short. He bent over a moment; his +fingers moved deftly. Then he straightened with a grunt of +satisfaction. A section of the seemingly solid, immovable stone was +sliding silently open. He looked through.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">N</span>ona saw him jerk his head back, heard his involuntary cry of horror. +Then she heard another cry: an excited warning shout. She whirled +around in time to see a Ganymedan running toward them from behind. A +deadly pencil-ray pointed straight at her companion. Without a +moment's hesitation she sprang at Grant, pushed him violently so that +he staggered and fell through the opening to the other side. In so +doing, she tripped over his body, and fell prone. That saved her life, +for a blue flame sheared clean through the stone, inches above her +head.</p> + +<p>Grant squirmed around underneath. The electro-gun was somehow out of +the side flap and now it spat its explosive hail. The tiny bullets +flared into little puff balls of flame against the space-suit of the +Ganymedan. A long howl of anguish came to them as he threw up his +hands and fell into a shapeless heap. But a moment later there were +other cries, angry shouts. Pemberton was on his feet again with the +quickness of a cat. He pulled Nona up after him, thrust her to one +side, behind the protection of the wall. His eyes were blazing now, +aflame with the ardor of battle. Very carefully he leaned out and +pressed the trigger. The surging mob was caught in full flight. The +electro-bullets spread fanwise, exploded into flaming deaths. The +Ganymedans went down as though a huge scythe had swept through their +ranks. The survivors scattered hastily, throwing themselves headlong +to the surface of the rock to escape further execution.</p> + +<p>"That'll hold them for a while," Grant laughed grimly.</p> + +<p>"Drop your gun, and turn around—both of you." A cold, smooth voice +spoke in deadly menace directly behind them—a voice that came from +the mysterious inner side of the wall.</p> + +<p>Grant spun around, his gun ready to fire. A ray snapped out at him, a +ray with a greenish tinge. The fingers of his gun hand grew suddenly +nerveless; the weapon dropped unresistingly from his paralyzed hand.</p> + +<p>A tall Ganymedan towered before him, unhidden by a space-suit. +Evidently there was a layer of air in here. The red lidless eyes were +filled with a cold fury. Spatulate fingers tensed on the button of a +pencil ray.</p> + +<p>"Miro," Grant breathed to himself unbelievingly. A great light burst +upon him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">T</span>he Inspector of the Service for Ganymede did not recognize him, +swathed as Grant was in the depths of his space-suit, nor did he +notice the little movement of surprise. He was too furiously angry. +His words came tumbling out in a tremble of rage.</p> + +<p>"You damned scoundrels; have you gone mad? What do you mean by coming +in here through the secret way? Don't you know it is death for anyone +to pass the barrier? And what do you mean by shooting down your +fellows with an Earth weapon? Answer, damn you, before I thrust you +into the Gorm."</p> + +<p>Both were silent; Nona because she did not know what to say, and Grant +because he knew his voice would be recognized by Miro's keen ears. He +kept his eyes fixed on the Ganymedan, waiting hawk-like for one false +move, for the tiniest wavering of attention. But the pencil-ray was +pointed squarely at his breast.</p> + +<p>"You won't talk?" Miro's voice was choked with passion. "Well, there +are ways to make you." With one foot he kicked at the open slab, while +his weapon commanded them unwaveringly. There was a smooth soundless +rush. Grant knew that the wall was an unbroken surface again. They +were cut off on the secret side of the island, alone with Miro.</p> + +<p>Yet that was the horror of it. They were not alone. For Grant's first +darting look inside when he had first opened the panel had shown him +the others. Hundreds of them there were, men of all races and planets, +a motley crew. And each man walked stiffly, unnaturally, looking +neither to the right nor to the left. Their eyes were fixed and +glassy; the skin of their faces, no matter what their origin, was +uniformly parched and gray. A cold sweat broke out on Grant's +forehead. They looked like automatons: beings from whom life had been +drained. He heard a little choked cry from Nona; she had seen them, +too.</p> + +<p>Miro plucked out with his free hand a little pear-shaped mechanism +punctured with innumerable holes. He blew into it, once—twice. It +gave forth a high whining note. Instantly two of the strange lifeless +men wheeled angularly, and with queer mechanical movements headed +straight for them. A bloodless hand stretched out, grasped Nona. Grant +heard her scream and saw her struggling in a loathsome grip.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">F</span>orgetting everything, forgetting the deadly ray in Miro's hands, he +sprang to her rescue. The next instant he was in the grip of a similar +hand, a frail, dead-white naked arm, yet endowed with the strength of +steel. Struggle as he might, dash his fist as hard as he could against +the unresisting blank face, he could not loose that grip. Miro watched +his futile strugglings mockingly.</p> + +<p>"Take these traitors over to the Gorm and let me look at their faces," +he ordered.</p> + +<p>Grant and Nona were picked up in those emaciated, powerful arms as +easily as though they were children, and the unhuman creatures +proceeded at a slow, awkward pace away from the hall, toward the outer +edge of the island. From his uncomfortable vantage point, Pemberton +noticed that they were passing clumps of intricate stone machinery. +Dead-faced automatons, similar to their captors, were tending the +whirring machinery with ordered, stiff-legged movements.</p> + +<p>Then, straight ahead, Grant saw the edge of the island, against which +beat and billowed in furious, gigantic heaves, the reddish overarching +clouds of the Great Spot. Strangely enough, though they whirled and +eddied, they could not seem to break through the invisible barrier. +And then the lake of fire sprang into view—the mysterious place of +flame they had seen from afar, that had pulled the hapless <i>Althea</i> +out of its course down to destruction on Jupiter. This then was the +Gorm!</p> + +<p>A wide circular pool it was, of an unearthly yellow-orange brilliance. +The midday sun was no more dazzling to the eye. Out it stretched from +the island into the vapors of the Great Red Spot, only touching the +stone rim of the island at one thin point. Its liquid fires were +waveless now, oily, yet there was something horrible, too, about its +smooth quiescence.</p> + +<p>Miro whistled. The rigid guards dropped their burdens roughly and +stood at attention. One was an Earthman, the other a fish-faced +Venusian. Yet the queer dead look of their eyes was exactly the same.</p> + +<p>"Will you remove your helmets, or shall I ask the Doora to assist +you?" Miro's voice was silky.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">B</span>ecause there was nothing else to do, Grant unscrewed his helmet and +let it fall back on its hinge. Then he looked very calmly and steadily +at the Inspector of the Service for Ganymede.</p> + +<p>A dull flame leaped into Miro's eyes at the sight of his captive.</p> + +<p>"You!" Then he smiled, a peculiarly horrible smile. "You are cleverer +than I thought, my Earth friend. You should have been strangled to +death on the <i>Althea</i>, or made into one of—"</p> + +<p>He stopped short, and the smile widened cruelly. "But it is not too +late. No, it is not too late."</p> + +<p>Grant disregarded his cryptic phrases. He smiled, too, a contemptuous +smile that cut like a lash.</p> + +<p>"You, Miro, an Inspector of the Service, are only a lying, +treacherous, butchering Ganymedan. Filthy scum of the Universe."</p> + +<p>Miro started forward with a roar, a dark flush of rage suffusing his +green-tinged countenance. His blunt-edged finger trembled on the +button of the pencil-ray. Grant knew he was perilously on the verge +of sudden death, yet his scornful glance did not waver.</p> + +<p>It was Nona, hitherto unnoticed, her helmet removed, who darted upon +the giant Ganymedan with small beating fists. Miro saw her coming and +swung her sprawling away with one sweep of his free hand, while he +covered Grant with the other.</p> + +<p>He had recovered his composure. Some secret merriment seemed to +convulse him.</p> + +<p>"Ho! ho!" he shouted. "Who is this little spitfire? By Jupiter, she is +a tempting morsel." And his red eyes took in the flushed beauty of the +panting girl speculatively.</p> + +<p>Grant tensed for a quick spring.</p> + +<p>"Stand where you are," Miro barked. "One move and it will be your +last." Gone was the smooth unctuous speech of former times. His tone +now was cutting, deadly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">"Y</span>ou damned Earthmen have been crowing long enough," he said. "When Miro +and Ganymede get through with you, the very memory of your filthy planet +will have been erased from the solar system." His voice rose higher. +"You thought you had us beaten down with your space-battleships and your +embargoes on metals. And we were meekly repentant. Oh yes, we were! We +took you in nicely. Why, they even made me, Miro, Inspector of your +rotten Service.</p> + +<p>"But we have been preparing against the day for years. Here on this +island that we built we worked, hidden from interference. We are ready +now. Our fleets will sail out, in your own ships, to smash the +combined space navies of the solar system."</p> + +<p>In spite of himself Grant could not hide a sudden grin of relief. The +man was mad, to think of pitting a few liners against armored battle +craft. Miro saw that grin.</p> + +<p>"You think I'm mad, don't you?" he gloated. "Just listen to this, +then. We have found a substance that no ray, no electro-bullet can +penetrate. Every ship will be coated with it. And the Gorm here"—he +pointed to the oily lake—"will draw your proud cruisers down to +destruction, or thrust them far out into the uncharted spaces, +helpless, just as it pleases us. You wonder how it works? Look! Now it +attracts, and powerfully. But when I reverse the current passing +through it like this"—he leaned over and pulled a switch set in the +rock right by the edge—"it repels everything. We'll just stand off in +space and pick off your proud warships one by one, without a scratch +to ourselves. See?" He fairly hissed the last word.</p> + +<p>Grant saw, and the cold sweat burst out on his forehead. His brain +raced desperately in a vain effort to find some way out, some method +of foiling this beast.</p> + +<p>"You sure talk big, Miro," he said in bored fashion, feigning +indifference; "but it means nothing to me. The point is, what do you +intend doing with us?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">T</span>he Ganymedan's lips writhed. "Nothing at all to your pretty friend," +he leered. "I have plans for her. But as for you—see these creatures +all about?"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"You are going to be one of them. They are passengers and crews who +had the misfortune to be alive when the captured ships were sprayed +with our gas. It does not kill. Oh, no! It just numbs their faculties, +paralyzes them. Then our surgeons get busy. They know how to remove +the memory and reasoning areas of the brain and leave just machines, +automata, to do our bidding. Clever, aren't they? When Earth is +captured, I intend subjecting all your damned breed to the operation. +They make very willing slaves, I've found. Two blasts on this toy"—he +raised the whistle to his lips—"and an Earth-Doora comes for you."</p> + +<p>Nona sprang forward. "No, no, Miro. Please do not touch Mr. Pemberton. +I'll—I'll—"</p> + +<p>"What will you?" The Ganymedan's pig-eyes devoured her.</p> + +<p>"I'll—" Then, to Grant's eternal horror, she sank into Miro's arms. +The surprised look on Miro's face changed slowly to one of passion, as +he held her close to him with his great hairy arm.</p> + +<p>"Nona!" Grant gasped and saw red. Heedless of the unwavering weapon at +his breast, he sprang. Miro snarled as he saw him coming. His finger +pressed down. But at that instant the Earth girl struck out with all +the power of her slender arm. It was not much of a blow, but it +managed to jar the weapon aside. The blue flame leaped hissing through +the air.</p> + +<p>Miro roared with rage, and flung her yards away, to lie, an unmoving +pathetic bundle. Then he swung his ray back into play.</p> + +<p>But he never had a chance to use it. All the strength and fury of +Grant's lithe, steel sinews and bone were behind the solid smash that +landed squarely on the Ganymedan's chin. He went down in a slump, +completely out.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">G</span>rant stooped to pick up the fallen pencil-ray, thrust it in the side +flap, then hurried over to the limp figure of Nona.</p> + +<p>"Darling," he cried, "if anything's happened to you, I'll—"</p> + +<p>The still form stirred, sat up.</p> + +<p>"Say that again." She was smiling weakly, but happily.</p> + +<p>Grant flushed. "As many times later as you'll want," he said, "but now +that you're not hurt, we can't waste any time in trying to get out of +here."</p> + +<p>He walked over to Miro, who was just coming to.</p> + +<p>"Listen, you rat," he told the Ganymedan, who was rubbing his chin and +groaning: "you do exactly as I say, if you know what's good for you." +He shook the pencil-ray significantly.</p> + +<p>"You can't get away with it," Miro snarled, muttering a string of +curses. There was baffled rage in his red pig-eyes.</p> + +<p>Grant surveyed him coldly.</p> + +<p>"We'll see about that," he snapped. "Get up." He reinforced his demand +with a well-placed kick. The huge Ganymedan came quickly to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Walk to the wall," was the next order, "and open the trick door."</p> + +<p>With a glance of savage hate, Miro obeyed. Grant followed him with his +pistol in readiness. The poor mindless creatures paid no heed to what +was going on, but dully continued their appointed tasks.</p> + +<p>Pemberton hid himself behind the wall to one side. Nona did likewise, +having picked up the electro-gun meanwhile. Only Miro stood before the +opening.</p> + +<p>"Now tell your cutthroat friends out there we want one of the liners +brought directly over the Gorm, you understand. Not the Althea, +though—that's still full of holes. And only one Ganymedan to guide +her over the wall. Be very explicit, and not a false move out of you, +or it'll be your last."</p> + +<p>With the knowledge that two deadly weapons were pointing squarely at +him, Miro shouted unwillingly the necessary instructions to his +subordinates outside. Then Grant leaned over and kicked the slide +shut.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">T</span>here followed tense moments of waiting. Would the workers beyond obey +their leader? Had they become suspicious, and were even now massing +for a surprise attack? Grant had no means of telling.</p> + +<p>Then to his ears came the most welcome soft roar of muted rockets. A +huge shape swept over the high wall, soared directly over the Gorm, +and nestled down in little jets of flame until the stern rested on the +solid rock, and the bow swung idly over the brilliant pool.</p> + +<p>"Keep your gun trained on this bird," Grant told Nona swiftly. She +nodded. The air-lock door on the ship was already sliding open. A +Ganymedan, space-suited, was coming through. He saw them, tried to +spring back into the shelter of the ship. But a blue ray stabbed out +and caught him in mid-flight. There was a spatter of dust, and the +hapless creature disintegrated into thin air.</p> + +<p>"Sorry I had to do it, but I couldn't afford to let him give the +alarm. Now for the dirty work, Nona. You hustle this big bully into +the ship, and keep him covered. I'll be right along."</p> + +<p>The girl cast him a look of anxiety. "What do you intend doing?"</p> + +<p>"Don't worry," he assured her; "I won't get hurt."</p> + +<p>After he had seen them within the liner, he got to work. First he +brought out from the ship coils of wiring and jumbles of instruments. +He took them over to the edge of the Gorm, to the place where he had +seen Miro pull the switch, and for the next ten minutes was busy +connecting wires, attaching batteries, putting his instruments in +place. Then, when he was satisfied that everything was ready, he +reversed the switch. The great space-ship, some fifty feet away, was +already trembling in every line.</p> + +<p>Just as he was rising to sprint for the slowly moving liner, he heard +a smooth rushing noise. He whirled. The slide was opening in the wall. +A mob of Ganymedans were pouring through. They paused uncertainly a +moment, then, as they spied him, there was a concerted rush forward.</p> + +<p>Grant acted quickly. Already the space-ship was off the ground, +soaring upward. He had not an instant to spare. He dove toward it. The +mob yelled, and raced forward to cut him off. His pencil-ray was +useless—the distance was too great for its limited range. But then, +that applied equally to the weapons of the Ganymedans.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">T</span>he blue rays snapped forward at him angrily, but fell short. The ship +was moving faster now. It was already several feet off the ground. +Grant's heavy space-suit impeded his progress. The charging Ganymedans +were dangerously close now. That last beam had missed him by inches. +The ship was gathering speed. He was five feet away from the open +air-lock when they got the range. A sharp searing pain right across +his shoulder. The creatoid material of his suit was cut away as with a +knife. A layer of flesh lay exposed. The skin had been whiffed into +nothingness.</p> + +<p>But that very instant he was leaping off the ground with a mighty +effort. The ship was going upward with a rush now. His fingers clawed +desperately at the edge of the air-lock. For one breathless instant he +clung; then, to his horror, the smooth creatoid covering refused to +hold. Slowly he slipped, in spite of every effort, as the surface of +the hull refused purchase to his bleeding hands, then down he went +with a thud.</p> + +<p>A cry of triumph arose from the onrushing Ganymedans as Grant +scrambled to his feet, bruised and shaken. He cast a swift, despairing +glance upward. The huge liner was a hundred feet up now, gathering +speed swiftly. To one side was the Gorm, a place of dread and menace. +The gloating enemy were almost upon him. Even the comfort of a weapon, +the grim satisfaction of taking some of his foes to death with him, +was denied him.</p> + +<p>The pencil-ray had been jarred out of his hand by the impact and had +doubtless fallen into the Gorm.</p> + +<p>Grant felt that he had come to the end of the rope. There was no +tremor of fear in him, only regret that he had met the girl and lost +her so soon. What would she do, out in space, alone with Miro? No time +to think of that now, though. The foremost of the Ganymedans were +almost upon him. They intended taking him alive, did they? He braced +himself for the attack, ready to go down fighting.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">T</span>hen a brilliant plan beat suddenly upon his dazzled mind. It was +breath-taking, so simple, yet so desperate did it appear. If it +worked—he would win through. If not—but Grant dismissed that thought +quickly; one form of death was no worse than another.</p> + +<p>Without an instant's hesitation, he whirled and jumped as high as he +could—directly over the Gorm! There was a yell of astonishment from +the Ganymedans—one had already clutched at his intended victim—as +they fell back in horror from the edge. This Earthling was mad to +brave the terrors of the Gorm!</p> + +<p>But Grant heard nothing. He was instantly conscious of a searing, +racking pain that penetrated his every fiber. He forced his eyes +upward, anywhere but beneath him. Was his theory correct, or was he +destined to drop into the fiery lake. For a single interminable +instant, he suffered untold agonies.</p> + +<p>Then his body quivered, and he felt an unmistakable push against him. +He was moving upward, just as he had hoped. The Gorm was repelling +him, even as it had the ship.</p> + +<p>Faster and faster he shot up, chasing the liner. Would he catch up +with it? He strained his eyes. Exultation flooded through him as he +realized that the distance was rapidly lessening between them. The +added impetus of his leap over the Gorm had given him the required +extra fillip of speed. By now, rays were streaking by him.</p> + +<p>Soon he was directly underneath. For an instant he had a quick fear +that he might overshoot his mark. But no—he was sliding past the open +air-lock. He threw himself sideways and caught at it. This time his +fingers held.</p> + +<p>As he squirmed and wriggled into the lock, they were already careening +into the orange tube through the red swirling clouds. There was no +longer any air. Choking, he managed with numbed fingers to screw his +helmet on. Then, closing the lock, he proceeded into the ship.</p> + +<p>Nona was guarding her prisoner vigilantly. Miro sat there, sullen, +defiant. Her glad, welcoming cry filled Grant with a new strange +warmth.</p> + +<p>"I was so afraid for you when the ship started and you didn't show +up," she said, "but I didn't dare leave him alone." She indicated +Miro.</p> + +<p>"Good girl," he said admiringly. "We'll bind him now and then I want +to show you something."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f3">T</span>hey stood a little later at the bow quartz port-hole. Down the long +shaft through which they had risen they saw the glaring flame of the +Gorm. As they looked, its regular pulsations turned irregular: it +leaped and splashed as though it was a stormy, choppy sea. Then it +gave one final mighty heave, and the universe seemed to shatter +beneath them. The "walls" of the shaft collapsed about them and they +were enswathed in a raging storm of red clouds.</p> + +<p>Nona turned to Grant. "Now, will you explain?"</p> + +<p>"Certainly," he grinned boyishly. "I simply reversed the switch that +changes the current of the Gorm. I knew that it would then repel the +liner out into space, as Miro was incautious enough to inform me.</p> + +<p>"Then I figured that if instead of direct current, an alternating flow +could be induced, so as to attract and repel in quick succession, +enough of a disturbance would be raised in that highly unstable +mixture to start fireworks. So I rigged up an automatic break in the +circuit, timed it to permit us to get up enough speed from the +repulsion to be safely on our way before it would start. The +circuit-breaker worked and the alternating current did the rest. That +island is wiped out, and so is the Gorm. There'll be no further threat +of danger to the solar system from that."</p> + +<p>"And Miro, what are we going to do with him?"</p> + +<p>"Turn him over to the Service. They'll take care of him. And now, +young lady, if you have no further questions, shall I say it again?"</p> + +<p>She smiled up at him tenderly, answering:</p> + +<p>"If you wish."</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pirates of the Gorm, by Nat Schachner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIRATES OF THE GORM *** + +***** This file should be named 29299-h.htm or 29299-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/9/29299/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, 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 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: Pirates of the Gorm + +Author: Nat Schachner + +Release Date: July 3, 2009 [EBook #29299] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIRATES OF THE GORM *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Astounding Stories May 1932. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + + [Illustration: _He jumped--directly over the Gorm!_] + + + Pirates of the Gorm + + By Nat Schachner + + * * * * * + + + + +[Sidenote: The trail of vanished space ships leads Grant Pemberton to +a marvellous lake of fire.] + + +Grant Pemberton sat up suddenly in his berth, every sense straining +and alert. What was it that had awakened him in the deathly stillness +of the space-flier? His right hand slid under the pillow and clutched +the handle of his gun. Its firm coolness was a comforting reality. + +There it was again. A tiny scratching on the door as though someone +was fumbling for the slide-switch. Very quietly he sat, waiting, his +finger poised against the trigger. Suddenly the scratching ceased, and +the panel moved slowly open. A thin oblong patch glimmered in the +light of the corridor beyond. Grant tensed grimly. + +A hand moved slowly around the slit--a hand that held a pencil-ray. +Even in the dim illumination, Grant noted the queer spatulate fingers. +A Ganymedan! In the entire solar system only they had those strange +appendages. + +Pemberton catapulted out of his berth like a flash. Not a moment too +soon, either. A pale blue beam slithered across the blackness, +impinged upon the pillow where his head had lain only a moment before. +The air-cushion disintegrated into smoldering dust. Grant's weapon +spat viciously. A hail of tiny bullets rattled against the panel, and +exploded, each in a puffball of flame. + +But it was too late. Already the unknown enemy was running swiftly +down the corridor, the sucking patter of his feet giving more evidence +of his Ganymedan origin. Pemberton sprang to the door, thrust it open +just in time to see a dark shape disappearing around a bend in the +corridor. There was no use of pursuit; the passageway ended in a spray +of smaller corridors, from which ambush would be absurdly easy. + + * * * * * + +HE glanced swiftly around. The corridor was empty, silent in the dim, +diffused light. The motley passengers were all sound asleep; no one +had been disturbed by the fracas. Earthmen, green-faced Martians, +fish-scaled Venusians, spatulate Ganymedans and homeward-bound +Callistans, all reposing through the sleep-period in anticipation of +an early landing in Callisto. + +All were asleep, that is, but one. That brought Pemberton back to the +problem of his mysterious assailant. Why had this Ganymedan tried to +whiff him out of existence? Grant frowned. No one on board knew of his +mission, not even the captain. On the passenger list he was merely +Dirk Halliday, an inconspicuous commercial traveler for Interspace +Products. Yet someone had manifestly penetrated his disguise and was +eager to remove him from the path of whatever deviltry was up. Who? + +Grant gave a little start, then swore softly. Of course! Why hadn't he +thought of it before! The scene came back to him, complete in every +detail, as though he were once more back on Earth, in the small, +simply furnished office of the Interplanetary Secret Service. + +The Chief of the Service was glancing up at him keenly. Beside him was +a tall, powerfully shouldered Ganymedan, Miro, Inspector for Ganymede. +Grant looked at him with a faint distaste as he sat there, drumming on +the arm of his chair with his spatulate fingers, his soft-suction +padded hoofs curled queerly under the seat. There was something +furtive, too, about the red lidless eyes that shifted with quick +unwinking movements. + + * * * * * + +But then, Pemberton had small use for the entire tribe of Ganymedans. +Damned pirates, that's all they were. It was not many years back since +they had been the scourge of the solar system, harrying spatial +commerce with their swift piratical fliers, burning and slaying for +the mere lust of it. + +That is, until an armada of Earth space-fliers had broken their power +in one great battle. The stricken corsairs were compelled to disgorge +their accumulations of plunder, give up all their fliers and armament, +and above all, the import of metals was forbidden them. For, +strangely enough, none of the metallic elements was to be found on +Ganymede. All their weapons, all their ships, were forged of metals +from the other planets. + +It was now five years since Ganymede had been admitted once again to +the Planetary League, after suitable declarations of repentance. But +the prohibitions still held. And Grant placed small faith in the +sincerity of the repentance. + +The Chief was speaking. + +"We've called you in--Miro and I," he said, in his usual swift, +staccato manner, "because we've agreed that you are the best man in +the Service to handle the mission we have in mind." + +Grant said nothing. + +"It's a particularly dangerous affair," the Chief continued. "Five +great space-fliers, traveling along regular traffic routes, have all +vanished within the space of a month--passengers, crews and all. Not a +trace of them can be found." + +"No radio reports, sir?" + +"That's the most curious part of the whole business. Everyone of the +fliers was equipped with apparatus that could have raised the entire +solar system with a call for help, and yet not the tiniest whisper was +heard." + + * * * * * + +The Chief got up and paced the floor agitatedly. It was plain that +this business was worrying him. Miro continued to sit calmly, +seemingly indifferent. "It's uncanny, I tell you. Gone as though empty +space had swallowed them up." + +"You've applied routine methods, of course," Grant ventured. + +"Of course," the Chief waved it aside impatiently. "But we can't +discover a thing. Battle fliers have patrolled the area without +success. The last ship was literally snatched away right under the +nose of a convoy. One minute it was in radio communication, and the +next--whiff--it was gone." + +"Where is this area you mention?" Already Pemberton's razor-edged +brain was at work on the problem. + +"Within a radius of five million miles from Jupiter. We've naturally +considered placing an embargo upon that territory, but that would mean +cutting off all of the satellites from the rest of the system." + +Miro stirred. His smooth slurred voice rolled out. + +"And my planet would suffer, my friend. Alas, it has already suffered +too much." He evoked a sigh from somewhere in the depths of his barrel +chest, and tried to cast up his small red eyes. + +Grant suffered too, a faint disgust. Damn his eyes, what business had +an erstwhile pirate, not too recently reformed, being self-righteous? + +"Miro thinks," the Chief continued unheeding, "that the Callistans +know more about this than they admit. He has a theory that Callisto is +somehow gathering up these ships to use in a surprise attack against +his own planet, Ganymede. He says Callisto has always hated them." + +"Damn good reason," Grant said laconically. + + * * * * * + +Miro's lidless eyes flamed into sudden life. "And what do you mean by +that, my friend?" + +Pemberton replied calmly. "Simply that your people have harried and +ravaged them for untold centuries. They were your nearest prey, you +know." + +Miro sprang to his feet, his soft suction pads gripping the floor as +though preparatory to a spring. Gone was the sanctimonious unction of +his former behavior; the ruthless savage glared out of the red eyes, +the flattened fingers were twisting and curling. + +"You beastly Earthling," he cried in a voice choked with rage, +"I'll--" + +The Chief intervened swiftly. "Here, none of that," he said sharply to +Miro. "Don't say anything you'll regret later." Then he turned to +Grant, who was steadily holding his ground: "There was no reason, +Pemberton, to insult an inspector of the Service. Consider yourself +reprimanded." But the edge of the rebuke was taken off by the slight +twinkle in the Chief's eye. + +Somehow a truce was patched up. Grant was to ship as an ordinary +passenger on the _Althea_, the great passenger liner that plied +between Callisto and the Earth. It was not his duty to prevent the +disappearance of the vessel, the Chief insisted, but to endeavor to +discover the cause. It was up to Grant then to escape, if he could, +and to report to Miro on Ganymede immediately with his findings. Miro +was leaving by his private Service flier at once for Ganymede, to +await him. Grant thought he saw a faint sardonic gleam in the +Inspector's eyes at that, but paid no particular heed to it at the +time. + + * * * * * + +Now, as Grant stood in the corridor of the great space-flier, +listening intently for further sounds from his hidden foe, it flashed +on him. Miro knew he was on board. It was a Ganymedan who had +treacherously attacked him. The puzzle was slowly fitting its pieces +together. But the major piece still eluded him. What would happen to +the ship? + +As he turned to go back to his room, a ripping, tearing, grinding +sound came to his startled ears. It was followed by a sudden swishing +noise. Grant knew what that meant. A meteor had ripped into the vitals +of the space-flier, and the precious air was rushing through the +fissure into outer space. He whirled without an instant's hesitation +and sprang down the long corridor toward the captain's quarters. If +caught in time, the hole could be plugged. + +Even as he ran, there was another grinding smash, then another, and +another. Good Lord, they must have headed right into a meteor shower. +Panels were sliding open, and people, scantily attired, thrust +startled heads out into the corridor. Someone called after him, but he +did not heed or stop his headlong race. He must get to the control +room at once. + +Already the air in the corridor was a sucking whirlpool that beat and +eddied about him in its mad rush to escape. It sounded like the +drumbeat of unsilenced exploders. A meteor shower of unprecedented +proportions! In the back of Grant's mind as he ran, hammered a +thought. Every swarm of meteors in the solar system was carefully +plotted. The lanes of travel were routed to avoid them. There was no +known shower in this particular area! + +He collided violently with a strange ungainly figure. In his desperate +haste he did not give much heed, but tried to push his way past. The +figure turned on him, and then Grant stopped short, an exclamation +frozen to his lips. Red unwinking eyes stared out at him from goggles +set in a helmet. The body was completely inclosed in lusterless +creatoid. It was a Ganymedan in a space-suit! + + * * * * * + +Grant saw the quick movement of the other toward an open side flap. He +did not hesitate an instant. His fist shot out and caught the +Ganymedan flush in the throat, while his left hand simultaneously +seized the creatoid-covered arm that gripped a pencil-ray. The +helmeted head went back with a sickening thud. But the Ganymedan was +a powerful brute. Even as he staggered back from the force of the +blow, vainly trying to release the pencil-ray for action, his right +foot jerked forward. The next moment both were rolling on the floor, +twisting and heaving in silent combat. Frightened passengers rushed +down the corridor, screaming with terror, half carried along by the +hurricane wind, clambering over the combatants in an insane desire to +get away, where, they knew not; and still neither relaxed his grip, +seeking a mortal hold. + +Pemberton was certain that his silent unknown foe held the clue to the +mystery he was trying to fathom. He fought on, silently, grimly. The +cold creatoid fabric was slippery, but a sudden jerk of an arm, a +certain quick twist that Grant was familiar with, and his enemy went +limp. Grant's breath was coming in quick, labored gasps. There was +very little air left now. But he did not care. He tugged at the +fastenings on the helmet. He must see who his captive was, wrest from +him the heart of the mystery. + +There came a clatter of feet behind him, a sudden rush of space-suited +figures that overwhelmed and passed over him with trampling strides. +He was torn loose from his prey, rolled over and over, gasping for +air. When he staggered to his feet again, bruised and shaken, the +corridor was swept clean of figures. His assailants had carried his +opponent away with them. + +A wild surge of anger swept through him. More Ganymedans, these +rescuers, all accoutered for airless space. They had been carefully +prepared for this. Heedless of all else, he swayed groggily after +them, intent only on joining battle once again. The illumination was +dim now, the cries of fear that had rung through the ship were gone; +only a deathly silence reigned now. His lungs were burning for want +of air; even the whirlwind had died down for lack of fuel. But still +he kept on, like a bloodhound on the trail. + + * * * * * + +He rounded a corner. A slight figure, swaying like a reed, collided +with him and would have fallen if he had not thrust out a supporting +arm. It was a girl. Even in the shadowy light he saw that she was +beautiful. Her delicately molded features were drained white, but her +deep pooled eyes were level in their gaze, unafraid. + +"I'm sorry," he managed, finding utterance labored, "Are you hurt?" + +"Quite all right," she said, with a wan smile, "if only I had some air +to breathe." + +The essential bravery of her touched him. He forgot all about the +escaped Ganymedans. + +"We'll have to try some other portion of the ship. Maybe some of the +bulkheads are uninjured." + +She shook her head. "I just saw the captain," she enunciated faintly. +"Every bulkhead is riddled. Said--I--should get space-suit--in +stateroom--though no use--doomed. Something wrong--wireless--not +working...." Her voice trailed. She had fainted. + +Grant caught up her slight form and lurched unsteadily into the +nearest cabin. The blood was roaring in his ears now, his heart was +pumping madly, but he forced himself on. His eyes strained toward the +compartment where the emergency space-suit was neatly compacted. Thank +God. It was still there. The inmate had evidently rushed out at the +first alarm to join the terror-maddened crush. + +Pemberton worked with feverish haste. Somehow he thrust the +unconscious girl into the suit, tightened the helmet into position, +opened the valve that started the steady measured flow of life-giving +oxygen. Then, with dark spots dancing before his eyes, he deposited +her gently on the floor, and managed to force himself in the now +almost total darkness toward another room. + + * * * * * + +His swelling hands fumbled. The compartment was empty. Despairing, +conscious only of a desire to lie down, to rest, he tried another. It, +too, was empty. He stumbled over sprawled bodies, fell, managed to get +up again. Again he fumbled into a compartment. The clammy feel of the +creatoid never was more welcome. His breath was coming in whistling +gasps. It seemed ages of strangulation before the first cool rush of +oxygen expanded his tortured lungs. For a full minute he stood there, +inhaling deep draughts. Then once more he was himself, his brain +functioning with keen clarity. + +He must find the Ganymedans and come to grips with them. There was no +doubt in his mind that somehow they had been responsible for the +cataclysm. Just how, he did not know, but he would find out. + +But the girl. He could not leave her. Duty and something else stirred +into conflict. He hesitated. In the flap of the suit was an emergency +flash. Throwing the beam on the walls and flooring, he managed to +retrace his steps to the cabin where he had left her. As he flashed it +inside, his heart gave a great bound. She was standing now. + +"Feel all right?" he spoke into the tiny transmitter that was part of +the regulation equipment. + +"Fine." Her warm, rich voice spoke in his ear. "But I'm not thinking +of myself. Are the others on board safe? What happened?" + +"I'm afraid we are the only ones alive," he told her gravely. "As to +what happened, I can only guess. We seem to have hit an unusually +heavy meteor shower that riddled us through and through, though--" He +paused. + +"Though what?" + +He ignored her question. "The first thing we've got to do is find out +where we are." His flash sought the window switch and found it. He +went over and pressed it. A section of the beryllium-steel casing slid +smoothly open, disclosing a thick flawless quartzite port. He stared +out at the dark pattern of space. Long he gazed, then a stifled +exclamation reached the girl. + +"What is it?" she cried. + +"Come and look," he told her gravely, and made room for her. + + * * * * * + +At first she saw only the unwinking stars of space. Then her eyes +shifted forward. Jupiter lay ahead, a vast cloud-girt disk. It was +ominously near. Somehow it gave the effect of rushing straight at her. + +Right along the equator floated, or seemed to float, a huge red +oval--the Great Red Spot of Jupiter. She had heard of it before. But +what caught her immediate attention was a tiny flare of intense +illumination, right in the very heart of the Spot. Bright orange it +was, tinged with yellow, dazzling even at this distance. She watched +it eagerly. Then she gave a sudden start. + +"You've seen it." Grant's voice sounded quietly in her helmet. + +"Yes. Why, it--it pulsates!" + +"Exactly. Now look along the hull of the ship." + +She did so, and gasped again. The steel-shod sides were bathed in an +unearthly orange glow. + +"Why, that must be the light from the orange spot down there." + +Grant nodded. "Yes, and more than that. They are power waves of a +nature that we've known nothing of before. We are being pulled down +along that beam straight for Jupiter, straight for the source of that +light!" + +"But that means there are intelligent beings on Jupiter." + +"No doubt." + +"But--but everyone know that there's no life on Jupiter. It's a frozen +waste swathed in impenetrable whirlwind clouds." + +"How does everyone know?" Grant retorted. "Has anyone ever penetrated +through those clouds?" + +"No," she admitted; "though there have been plenty of expeditions that +tried, and never came back." + +"That of course doesn't prove anything. Mind you," he added. "I didn't +say there was native life existing on Jupiter. I merely said there +were intelligent beings operating that illumination." + +"Who could it be then?" + +"We'll find out when we get down there." + + * * * * * + +The very calmness of his matter-of-fact statement brought her back +abruptly to their precarious situation. + +"But, great heavens, we'll smash and be killed. Can't we do +something?" + +"We'll not smash." Grant said positively. "Though very likely we shall +be killed. As for doing something, we can only wait and take our +chances, if the gentry who are hauling us in will only give us an +opportunity. You know," he added with a fine inconsecutiveness, "I +don't even know your name." + +She bubbled with sudden laughter. "Nona--Nona Gail. I was on my way to +Callisto, to meet my father," she explained. "He's an engineer, doing +some construction work for Interspace Products. But now that I've told +you all, what and who may you be?" + +He was frank. There was now no need for concealment. "Grant +Pemberton, an unimportant unit of the Interplanetary Secret Service." + +"Then you knew that the trip would be dangerous," she challenged. + +"Yes." + +"Why did you come?" + +"It is part of my duties." + +There was silence between them. He turned to stare out of the quartz +port-hole again. Jupiter was perceptibly nearer; an enormous, convex +globe that blotted out half the heavens. They were being drawn at a +frightful velocity toward the mysterious pulsating point, now blinding +in its brilliance. + +They both saw it simultaneously: a space-suited figure, far out in the +depths of interstellar space, caught up in a sudden flare of orange +illumination. The strange figure seemed to whirl around, straighten +up, and shoot at breakneck speed headlong for Jupiter. Behind it, and +in a direct line with the winking flame in the Great Spot, another +space denizen glowed luridly, startlingly, out of the blackness +beyond, whirled, and shot down the long invisible path. + +Nona cried out: "Grant, tell me quickly, what are they; what is +pulling them?" + +Even as she spoke, more and more figures were blazoned in that orange +ray, until a long file of beings were catapulting in a single straight +line past the space-ship, outdistancing it until they became faint +specks in the distance. + + * * * * * + +Pemberton's hand was upon her shoulder, his eyes literally blazing +through the goggles, while his voice shouted in her ears. "Come with +me: We haven't a second to lose." + +"But," she gasped, "you haven't told me--" + +"No time," he interrupted, and, shoving her in front of him, he rushed +her through corridor after corridor until they came to the air-lock +of the liner. + +"If only we have time," he groaned, and cursed himself for a bungling +fool for not having surmised the maneuver earlier. + +Just as he had expected, the great lock was open. The ship was as +silent as the grave. There was no air anywhere, only the unutterably +cold airlessness of space. Without pausing in his headlong rush, he +pushed the bewildered girl through the open port, out into the +overwhelming, intangible blackness. Nona's smothered cry of fear came +to him as the next instant he stepped forward and left the solid +footing to float in sudden weightlessness in a vast sea of +nothingness. + +The girl reached out and caught his arm convulsively. Even through the +fabric of their suits he could feel her trembling. Pemberton had taken +good care to retain a hold on the edge of the open air-lock. The two +swung unsteadily. + +"What is the reason for this?" Grant sensed, rather, than heard, the +tremor in her voice. She was making a desperate effort to control +herself. "We'll be lost--out here in space." + +"Don't worry," he said soothingly. "I'll explain in due course. In the +meantime you'll have to trust me. Did you see where that invisible ray +held when it illumined the last Ganymedan?" + +"Ganymedan?" she echoed in surprise. "What makes you think--" + +"Never mind that. Did you?" he insisted. + +"Yes," she admitted, "it was about over there." She indicated the spot +with an outthrust arm. "About a hundred yards, I should judge." + +"Exactly," he agreed. "Well, young lady, our lives, and far more, +depend upon our reaching that exact line in space immediately." + +"I don't know what you are talking about, but even so, how can we +make it? I'm not a rocket." + +"It's difficult, I admit, but we must. Now hold on tight to my arm, +and press your feet firmly against the wall of the ship." She obeyed. + +"Now when I count three, shove off violently, and pray that we're +going straight. Are you game?" + +She stiffened; then, very slowly, "All right; start counting." + +"Good girl," Grant said approvingly. "One--two--th-r-ee-ee!" + +They flexed their legs in perfect unison. And shoved off. + + * * * * * + +Out into the blackness of space they shot, lost to all sense of +motion: yet the hull of the space-flier, dimly gleaming in the thin +light of the far off sun, retreated from them with terrifying +swiftness. + +They were alone in space! It was an uncanny, a horribly helpless +sensation. All about them was infinity, a vast void out of which +peered at them the cold, unwinking stars. They were like swimmers in +mid-ocean, without even the buoyant feel of the salt water to comfort +them. + +Nona's grip on Grant's arm was agonizing in its intensity. + +"Scared?" Grant queried. + +"A--a little," she admitted; "but don't bother about me. I'm all +right." + +She could be depended upon to keep up her end, Grant thought +admiringly. + +On and on they floated in the welter of space. And still there was no +ray, nothing but unrelieved blackness. Pemberton was somewhat worried. +Had the saving ray been quenched at the source? Were they too late? If +so, they were doomed to a frightful obliterating fall to the surface +of the planet, or worse still, they were destined to swing endlessly +in space. Already the liner was far away, out of their grasp, even +had they desired to return. + +His breath was coming in quick gasps now. "Scared?" he once more asked +the silent figure beside him. + +"Frightfully--but carry on. We'll get there, wherever it is." + +Her gay determination strengthened him wonderfully. On and on they +floated. + +Suddenly the dim, dark bulk of the girl caught the uncanny orange +light. The next instant the creatoid fabric of his own suit caught it, +too. + +"Thank God," he cried joyously. "It's still on. Just relax, Nona, the +ray will take care of us now." + +He felt a powerful tug at his body, he was whirled completely around, +and then there was a steady pull. He was being catapulted down the ray +to the mysterious point of brilliance in the Great Red Spot. The girl +was right beside him. The space-liner was passed with a smooth rush, +and soon receded to a dwindling speck. + + * * * * * + +"Now will you explain?" asked Nona impatiently, after she had caught +her breath in sudden relief. + +Grant stretched luxuriously before he began. + +"Certainly. There's nothing for us now to do but wait until we get +pulled down to Jupiter, and that'll take some time. I hope we look +like Ganymedans." + +"Will you get on with your story!" she cried. + +He obeyed. He started from the beginning and went right up to the time +when he had so rudely thrust her out into space. + +"You see," he explained. "I had put the puzzle together a bit, but +there were still pieces missing. For instance, those chaps down there +know that every space-liner is equipped with emergency space-suits. +Why pull the ship down with live men on board? That would naturally +mean a fight, and we have no mean weapons, what with disintegrator +ray-projectors and explosive electro-bullets." Then, again, for some +reason, there were Ganymedans on board. They would very likely be +whiffed out in the melee. The ship might be destroyed also, and they +evidently are very careful about getting the ship down intact. The +little meteor holes can easily be plugged up, and the liner made as +good as new. At least that was my guess. + +"I was trying to puzzle it out, rather hopelessly," he continued, +"when I saw the ray out in space pick up those floating figures. That +was the last little piece in the jigsaw. + +"The Ganymedans evidently had to leave the ship because, as it +approaches the planet, something will be done to kill off any +unfortunates who are still alive, waiting their chance to fight the +invisible enemy. Possibly a penetrating lethal gas that will be forced +into the interior. So they evolved the ray to carry the Ganymedan +passengers down gently, safely. And we are stowaways," he concluded +grimly. + +Nona had listened intently to the long recital. + +"But why," she expostulated, "was it necessary to have their own +people on board? The meteors that riddled the ship were projectiles +shot from their station on Jupiter. So was the attraction-ray that +pulls the ship down." + +"Because they required a sufficient force to disable the radio +apparatus. All radio waves used on interplanetary liners are shielded +from interference. It is impossible to blank them out. And with the +radio intact, every battle flier in space would be on their trail in a +hurry." + + * * * * * + +Several hours passed, and still they fell endlessly through space, +unaware of their motion except that Jupiter was now a huge orb +blotting out the universe. The grim face of the giant planet was +enswathed in endless billowing clouds. No one had ever penetrated to +the real core. But what held their eager, straining attention was a +vast blood red disk, cyclonic in character, directly beneath them. The +Great Red Spot! And immediately in the center of it was the tiny, +blindingly brilliant yellow orange oval, winking up at them with +quick, steady pulsations. + +"What can it be?" Nona wondered. + +"The source of their power, evidently. But what interests me more just +now is where the Ganymedans have their hangout in those clouds, and +what they're doing with the ships they capture." + +Jupiter was now a flat level stretch that reached on all sides as far +as the eye could see. Grant felt a sudden sensation of weight again, +as though something was pressing with crushing force against his +chest. + +"Hello," he said, "our fall is being checked. They're making sure +their friends come to no harm." And he laughed bitterly, thinking of +the men and women lying with lungs ruptured, cold and stiff, in the +interior of the _Althea_; of the possible few wretches who had managed +to huddle into space-suits, ignorant of the deadly gas that was soon +to search out their seemingly impenetrable habiliments. + +Slowly, ever more slowly, they fell. Thin wisps of reddish vapor +rushed upward toward them, and then they were enveloped in vast swirls +of cloud masses. They were within the Great Spot! + +Then the lurid clouds parted suddenly, revealing a deep hole, at the +bottom of which flamed and flared the mysterious yellow-orange +brilliance. Down the long shaft they fell, while all around its +invisible walls dark red cyclones stirred and beat in vain. + + * * * * * + +Just as it seemed as if they were doomed to fall headlong into the +blaze, they were swerved violently into an opening that angled off +from the main shaft. Down this branching shaft they continued to +fall--interminably--when suddenly it widened, and they were dropping +through the interior of a great dome of which the arched roof was the +swirling clouds they had just penetrated. Directly beneath floated a +flat island of smooth rock, supported and upheld by a shining sea of +vapors. + +The girl exclaimed sharply, but Grant only nodded to himself with grim +satisfaction. He had expected something like this. For, clustered in +serried rows at the end of the island directly beneath them were +sleek, stream-lined grayhounds of the interplanetary traffic lanes, +now resting immovably on the smooth gray stone--the missing +space-liners! + +The island was bisected by a huge forbidding wall, over which, at +their angle, Grant was unable to see. + +The ground was encumbered too with clumps of intricate machinery, all +of the same polished gray stone; Ganymedan stone, Ganymedan machinery, +Pemberton recognized at once. Hundreds of figures were scurrying +awkwardly around, clad in the inevitable space-suit. Several were +working desperately at a huge concave glass reflector. Others were +pointing a stone nozzle, extending out of a pit, directly upward. + +"I'm afraid." Nona shuddered and pressed closer to Grant. + +"Don't be," he assured her. "Just say nothing when we land. Let me do +the talking." + +All this while they had been floating gently downward toward what they +now saw to be a miniature replica of the vaster orange brightness at +the bottom of the main shaft from which they had been diverted. It was +a pool of liquid fire, so intense in its brilliance that their eyes +were dazzled staring at it. It rose and fell in regular pulsations. +They were not far above it now, and still no one on the strange island +seemed to be aware of their coming. + +Nona cried out, "Grant, we're going to fall right into it!" + +Pemberton looked down at the small fiery pool with anxious eyes. +Unless something happened, and that quickly, they would be seared to a +crisp. Already the heat was uncomfortable, even through their suits. +He tried to kick himself aside, but the pull of the liquid was too +powerful for him. Then he resolved on a desperate expedient. + +"Say, you fellows down there," he cried in the smooth, slurred +Ganymedan speech. "What are you trying to do, fry us? Hurry up and +prepare our landing." + + * * * * * + +For a moment they were tense with the tenseness of imminent death. +Were the Ganymedans equipped with communication disks; would they +sense the strangeness of the accent? Nona was gripping his hand with a +pressure that penetrated the fabric. And every second brought them +down closer and closer to the dread lake. + +"Ah!" Nona's breath came in a shuddering sigh. For one of the figures +glanced upward and saw them dropping. He shouted something to his +fellows, and darted for a lever set in the stone next to the pool. He +threw it over swiftly. Immediately what seemed to be a smooth slab of +transparent glassite shot into position over the pulsating flame, not +an instant too soon, either, for it had barely covered the flaming +death when the Earthlings' feet were already touching it. + +"It would have served you two fools right if I had let you drop in," +their savior grumbled disgustedly. "What in Jupiter took you so long? +Everyone else arrived hours ago. Didn't know there were any more." + +"Sorry, but we couldn't help it," Grant responded carefully. "You see, +we got mixed up in a scrap with some Earthmen who evidently suspected +us, just as we were diving out of the air-lock. We had the devil's own +job of beating them off." + +"You too! The Chief came down foaming at the mouth. Some dumb Earthman +almost throttled him before he got away. He swears he'll blast Earth +out of space. He's that mad. But here, I've got no time to be talking +to your fellows. I've got work to do. Better report to the Chief at +once, and heaven help you. He's sure in a black rage at this minute." + +With that he moved away, over to the gang of Ganymedans holding the +stone nozzle and looking expectantly up at the large, round hole in +the cloud ceiling. + +Nona stood close to Grant. "What are they doing with the queer +affair?" She indicated the nozzle. + +"I'm afraid we'll find out only too soon," he answered grimly. +"Look--" he broke off. + +Far overhead, through the great round orifice, darted a tremendous +shape, pointed, glittering. + +"Why, that's the _Althea_," Nona exclaimed. + +"Yes. Now watch. Damn--all we can do is watch," Grant gritted between +his teeth. + + * * * * * + +Down sped the gleaming liner, pride of the fleet. The men at the +mirror were swerving it on gimbals until a ray from it flashed on the +burnished nose. As though it were a physical impact, the vessel +slackened its tremendous speed and hung suspended midway between the +cloud concavity and the island. + +The men with the nozzle spurred into activity. A thin stream of fluid +shot out of the orifice straight up for the captive liner. The tip of +the expanding spray impinged on the hull--and Nona gasped her +astonishment. For the liquid passed clean through the hull as though +it were a porous network instead of four-inch thick beryllium-steel. + +"Just as I thought," Grant groaned. "Lethal gas that penetrates +everything. Those poor people on board--for their own sakes I hope +none remained alive to hit this." + +"Can't we do anything?" Nona asked desperately. + +"Nothing for the _Althea_. But plenty to prevent any more disasters +like it." There was a hard ring to his voice. "Come on." He stepped +off the transparent slab onto the stone floor of the island. + +"Where to?" asked Nona, following. + +"We're going to locate that orange oval we saw from the _Althea_. +That's the secret of all this. The pool of liquid fire here is +unimportant, secondary." + +They were at one edge of the floating island. The other side was +hidden from them by the solid wall that stretched across its full +diameter. + +"We'll scout beyond there," Grant pointed out. "I'll miss my guess if +what we're looking for is not on the other side." + +As they started for the wall, they saw the Althea brought slowly down +to the rock, another captive to swell the motionless fleet. It did +not take them long to reach the barrier. Some fifty feet high it was, +of smooth polished Ganymedan stone, and no door or opening in its +straight unbroken surface. + +"How shall we get through?" Nona asked. + +Grant surveyed it thoughtfully. + +"There must be a hidden spring somewhere," he said. + +He walked carelessly along the wall, tapping it idly here and there. +His quick probing fingers were searching. + +With a sharp "Ah!" he stopped short. He bent over a moment; his +fingers moved deftly. Then he straightened with a grunt of +satisfaction. A section of the seemingly solid, immovable stone was +sliding silently open. He looked through. + + * * * * * + +Nona saw him jerk his head back, heard his involuntary cry of horror. +Then she heard another cry: an excited warning shout. She whirled +around in time to see a Ganymedan running toward them from behind. A +deadly pencil-ray pointed straight at her companion. Without a +moment's hesitation she sprang at Grant, pushed him violently so that +he staggered and fell through the opening to the other side. In so +doing, she tripped over his body, and fell prone. That saved her life, +for a blue flame sheared clean through the stone, inches above her +head. + +Grant squirmed around underneath. The electro-gun was somehow out of +the side flap and now it spat its explosive hail. The tiny bullets +flared into little puff balls of flame against the space-suit of the +Ganymedan. A long howl of anguish came to them as he threw up his +hands and fell into a shapeless heap. But a moment later there were +other cries, angry shouts. Pemberton was on his feet again with the +quickness of a cat. He pulled Nona up after him, thrust her to one +side, behind the protection of the wall. His eyes were blazing now, +aflame with the ardor of battle. Very carefully he leaned out and +pressed the trigger. The surging mob was caught in full flight. The +electro-bullets spread fanwise, exploded into flaming deaths. The +Ganymedans went down as though a huge scythe had swept through their +ranks. The survivors scattered hastily, throwing themselves headlong +to the surface of the rock to escape further execution. + +"That'll hold them for a while," Grant laughed grimly. + +"Drop your gun, and turn around--both of you." A cold, smooth voice +spoke in deadly menace directly behind them--a voice that came from +the mysterious inner side of the wall. + +Grant spun around, his gun ready to fire. A ray snapped out at him, a +ray with a greenish tinge. The fingers of his gun hand grew suddenly +nerveless; the weapon dropped unresistingly from his paralyzed hand. + +A tall Ganymedan towered before him, unhidden by a space-suit. +Evidently there was a layer of air in here. The red lidless eyes were +filled with a cold fury. Spatulate fingers tensed on the button of a +pencil ray. + +"Miro," Grant breathed to himself unbelievingly. A great light burst +upon him. + + * * * * * + +The Inspector of the Service for Ganymede did not recognize him, +swathed as Grant was in the depths of his space-suit, nor did he +notice the little movement of surprise. He was too furiously angry. +His words came tumbling out in a tremble of rage. + +"You damned scoundrels; have you gone mad? What do you mean by coming +in here through the secret way? Don't you know it is death for anyone +to pass the barrier? And what do you mean by shooting down your +fellows with an Earth weapon? Answer, damn you, before I thrust you +into the Gorm." + +Both were silent; Nona because she did not know what to say, and Grant +because he knew his voice would be recognized by Miro's keen ears. He +kept his eyes fixed on the Ganymedan, waiting hawk-like for one false +move, for the tiniest wavering of attention. But the pencil-ray was +pointed squarely at his breast. + +"You won't talk?" Miro's voice was choked with passion. "Well, there +are ways to make you." With one foot he kicked at the open slab, while +his weapon commanded them unwaveringly. There was a smooth soundless +rush. Grant knew that the wall was an unbroken surface again. They +were cut off on the secret side of the island, alone with Miro. + +Yet that was the horror of it. They were not alone. For Grant's first +darting look inside when he had first opened the panel had shown him +the others. Hundreds of them there were, men of all races and planets, +a motley crew. And each man walked stiffly, unnaturally, looking +neither to the right nor to the left. Their eyes were fixed and +glassy; the skin of their faces, no matter what their origin, was +uniformly parched and gray. A cold sweat broke out on Grant's +forehead. They looked like automatons: beings from whom life had been +drained. He heard a little choked cry from Nona; she had seen them, +too. + +Miro plucked out with his free hand a little pear-shaped mechanism +punctured with innumerable holes. He blew into it, once--twice. It +gave forth a high whining note. Instantly two of the strange lifeless +men wheeled angularly, and with queer mechanical movements headed +straight for them. A bloodless hand stretched out, grasped Nona. Grant +heard her scream and saw her struggling in a loathsome grip. + + * * * * * + +Forgetting everything, forgetting the deadly ray in Miro's hands, he +sprang to her rescue. The next instant he was in the grip of a similar +hand, a frail, dead-white naked arm, yet endowed with the strength of +steel. Struggle as he might, dash his fist as hard as he could against +the unresisting blank face, he could not loose that grip. Miro watched +his futile strugglings mockingly. + +"Take these traitors over to the Gorm and let me look at their faces," +he ordered. + +Grant and Nona were picked up in those emaciated, powerful arms as +easily as though they were children, and the unhuman creatures +proceeded at a slow, awkward pace away from the hall, toward the outer +edge of the island. From his uncomfortable vantage point, Pemberton +noticed that they were passing clumps of intricate stone machinery. +Dead-faced automatons, similar to their captors, were tending the +whirring machinery with ordered, stiff-legged movements. + +Then, straight ahead, Grant saw the edge of the island, against which +beat and billowed in furious, gigantic heaves, the reddish overarching +clouds of the Great Spot. Strangely enough, though they whirled and +eddied, they could not seem to break through the invisible barrier. +And then the lake of fire sprang into view--the mysterious place of +flame they had seen from afar, that had pulled the hapless _Althea_ +out of its course down to destruction on Jupiter. This then was the +Gorm! + +A wide circular pool it was, of an unearthly yellow-orange brilliance. +The midday sun was no more dazzling to the eye. Out it stretched from +the island into the vapors of the Great Red Spot, only touching the +stone rim of the island at one thin point. Its liquid fires were +waveless now, oily, yet there was something horrible, too, about its +smooth quiescence. + +Miro whistled. The rigid guards dropped their burdens roughly and +stood at attention. One was an Earthman, the other a fish-faced +Venusian. Yet the queer dead look of their eyes was exactly the same. + +"Will you remove your helmets, or shall I ask the Doora to assist +you?" Miro's voice was silky. + + * * * * * + +Because there was nothing else to do, Grant unscrewed his helmet and +let it fall back on its hinge. Then he looked very calmly and steadily +at the Inspector of the Service for Ganymede. + +A dull flame leaped into Miro's eyes at the sight of his captive. + +"You!" Then he smiled, a peculiarly horrible smile. "You are cleverer +than I thought, my Earth friend. You should have been strangled to +death on the _Althea_, or made into one of--" + +He stopped short, and the smile widened cruelly. "But it is not too +late. No, it is not too late." + +Grant disregarded his cryptic phrases. He smiled, too, a contemptuous +smile that cut like a lash. + +"You, Miro, an Inspector of the Service, are only a lying, +treacherous, butchering Ganymedan. Filthy scum of the Universe." + +Miro started forward with a roar, a dark flush of rage suffusing his +green-tinged countenance. His blunt-edged finger trembled on the +button of the pencil-ray. Grant knew he was perilously on the verge +of sudden death, yet his scornful glance did not waver. + +It was Nona, hitherto unnoticed, her helmet removed, who darted upon +the giant Ganymedan with small beating fists. Miro saw her coming and +swung her sprawling away with one sweep of his free hand, while he +covered Grant with the other. + +He had recovered his composure. Some secret merriment seemed to +convulse him. + +"Ho! ho!" he shouted. "Who is this little spitfire? By Jupiter, she is +a tempting morsel." And his red eyes took in the flushed beauty of the +panting girl speculatively. + +Grant tensed for a quick spring. + +"Stand where you are," Miro barked. "One move and it will be your +last." Gone was the smooth unctuous speech of former times. His tone +now was cutting, deadly. + + * * * * * + +"You damned Earthmen have been crowing long enough," he said. "When Miro +and Ganymede get through with you, the very memory of your filthy planet +will have been erased from the solar system." His voice rose higher. +"You thought you had us beaten down with your space-battleships and your +embargoes on metals. And we were meekly repentant. Oh yes, we were! We +took you in nicely. Why, they even made me, Miro, Inspector of your +rotten Service. + +"But we have been preparing against the day for years. Here on this +island that we built we worked, hidden from interference. We are ready +now. Our fleets will sail out, in your own ships, to smash the +combined space navies of the solar system." + +In spite of himself Grant could not hide a sudden grin of relief. The +man was mad, to think of pitting a few liners against armored battle +craft. Miro saw that grin. + +"You think I'm mad, don't you?" he gloated. "Just listen to this, +then. We have found a substance that no ray, no electro-bullet can +penetrate. Every ship will be coated with it. And the Gorm here"--he +pointed to the oily lake--"will draw your proud cruisers down to +destruction, or thrust them far out into the uncharted spaces, +helpless, just as it pleases us. You wonder how it works? Look! Now it +attracts, and powerfully. But when I reverse the current passing +through it like this"--he leaned over and pulled a switch set in the +rock right by the edge--"it repels everything. We'll just stand off in +space and pick off your proud warships one by one, without a scratch +to ourselves. See?" He fairly hissed the last word. + +Grant saw, and the cold sweat burst out on his forehead. His brain +raced desperately in a vain effort to find some way out, some method +of foiling this beast. + +"You sure talk big, Miro," he said in bored fashion, feigning +indifference; "but it means nothing to me. The point is, what do you +intend doing with us?" + + * * * * * + +The Ganymedan's lips writhed. "Nothing at all to your pretty friend," +he leered. "I have plans for her. But as for you--see these creatures +all about?" + +"Well?" + +"You are going to be one of them. They are passengers and crews who +had the misfortune to be alive when the captured ships were sprayed +with our gas. It does not kill. Oh, no! It just numbs their faculties, +paralyzes them. Then our surgeons get busy. They know how to remove +the memory and reasoning areas of the brain and leave just machines, +automata, to do our bidding. Clever, aren't they? When Earth is +captured, I intend subjecting all your damned breed to the operation. +They make very willing slaves, I've found. Two blasts on this toy"--he +raised the whistle to his lips--"and an Earth-Doora comes for you." + +Nona sprang forward. "No, no, Miro. Please do not touch Mr. Pemberton. +I'll--I'll--" + +"What will you?" The Ganymedan's pig-eyes devoured her. + +"I'll--" Then, to Grant's eternal horror, she sank into Miro's arms. +The surprised look on Miro's face changed slowly to one of passion, as +he held her close to him with his great hairy arm. + +"Nona!" Grant gasped and saw red. Heedless of the unwavering weapon at +his breast, he sprang. Miro snarled as he saw him coming. His finger +pressed down. But at that instant the Earth girl struck out with all +the power of her slender arm. It was not much of a blow, but it +managed to jar the weapon aside. The blue flame leaped hissing through +the air. + +Miro roared with rage, and flung her yards away, to lie, an unmoving +pathetic bundle. Then he swung his ray back into play. + +But he never had a chance to use it. All the strength and fury of +Grant's lithe, steel sinews and bone were behind the solid smash that +landed squarely on the Ganymedan's chin. He went down in a slump, +completely out. + + * * * * * + +Grant stooped to pick up the fallen pencil-ray, thrust it in the side +flap, then hurried over to the limp figure of Nona. + +"Darling," he cried, "if anything's happened to you, I'll--" + +The still form stirred, sat up. + +"Say that again." She was smiling weakly, but happily. + +Grant flushed. "As many times later as you'll want," he said, "but now +that you're not hurt, we can't waste any time in trying to get out of +here." + +He walked over to Miro, who was just coming to. + +"Listen, you rat," he told the Ganymedan, who was rubbing his chin and +groaning: "you do exactly as I say, if you know what's good for you." +He shook the pencil-ray significantly. + +"You can't get away with it," Miro snarled, muttering a string of +curses. There was baffled rage in his red pig-eyes. + +Grant surveyed him coldly. + +"We'll see about that," he snapped. "Get up." He reinforced his demand +with a well-placed kick. The huge Ganymedan came quickly to his feet. + +"Walk to the wall," was the next order, "and open the trick door." + +With a glance of savage hate, Miro obeyed. Grant followed him with his +pistol in readiness. The poor mindless creatures paid no heed to what +was going on, but dully continued their appointed tasks. + +Pemberton hid himself behind the wall to one side. Nona did likewise, +having picked up the electro-gun meanwhile. Only Miro stood before the +opening. + +"Now tell your cutthroat friends out there we want one of the liners +brought directly over the Gorm, you understand. Not the Althea, +though--that's still full of holes. And only one Ganymedan to guide +her over the wall. Be very explicit, and not a false move out of you, +or it'll be your last." + +With the knowledge that two deadly weapons were pointing squarely at +him, Miro shouted unwillingly the necessary instructions to his +subordinates outside. Then Grant leaned over and kicked the slide +shut. + + * * * * * + +There followed tense moments of waiting. Would the workers beyond obey +their leader? Had they become suspicious, and were even now massing +for a surprise attack? Grant had no means of telling. + +Then to his ears came the most welcome soft roar of muted rockets. A +huge shape swept over the high wall, soared directly over the Gorm, +and nestled down in little jets of flame until the stern rested on the +solid rock, and the bow swung idly over the brilliant pool. + +"Keep your gun trained on this bird," Grant told Nona swiftly. She +nodded. The air-lock door on the ship was already sliding open. A +Ganymedan, space-suited, was coming through. He saw them, tried to +spring back into the shelter of the ship. But a blue ray stabbed out +and caught him in mid-flight. There was a spatter of dust, and the +hapless creature disintegrated into thin air. + +"Sorry I had to do it, but I couldn't afford to let him give the +alarm. Now for the dirty work, Nona. You hustle this big bully into +the ship, and keep him covered. I'll be right along." + +The girl cast him a look of anxiety. "What do you intend doing?" + +"Don't worry," he assured her; "I won't get hurt." + +After he had seen them within the liner, he got to work. First he +brought out from the ship coils of wiring and jumbles of instruments. +He took them over to the edge of the Gorm, to the place where he had +seen Miro pull the switch, and for the next ten minutes was busy +connecting wires, attaching batteries, putting his instruments in +place. Then, when he was satisfied that everything was ready, he +reversed the switch. The great space-ship, some fifty feet away, was +already trembling in every line. + +Just as he was rising to sprint for the slowly moving liner, he heard +a smooth rushing noise. He whirled. The slide was opening in the wall. +A mob of Ganymedans were pouring through. They paused uncertainly a +moment, then, as they spied him, there was a concerted rush forward. + +Grant acted quickly. Already the space-ship was off the ground, +soaring upward. He had not an instant to spare. He dove toward it. The +mob yelled, and raced forward to cut him off. His pencil-ray was +useless--the distance was too great for its limited range. But then, +that applied equally to the weapons of the Ganymedans. + + * * * * * + +The blue rays snapped forward at him angrily, but fell short. The ship +was moving faster now. It was already several feet off the ground. +Grant's heavy space-suit impeded his progress. The charging Ganymedans +were dangerously close now. That last beam had missed him by inches. +The ship was gathering speed. He was five feet away from the open +air-lock when they got the range. A sharp searing pain right across +his shoulder. The creatoid material of his suit was cut away as with a +knife. A layer of flesh lay exposed. The skin had been whiffed into +nothingness. + +But that very instant he was leaping off the ground with a mighty +effort. The ship was going upward with a rush now. His fingers clawed +desperately at the edge of the air-lock. For one breathless instant he +clung; then, to his horror, the smooth creatoid covering refused to +hold. Slowly he slipped, in spite of every effort, as the surface of +the hull refused purchase to his bleeding hands, then down he went +with a thud. + +A cry of triumph arose from the onrushing Ganymedans as Grant +scrambled to his feet, bruised and shaken. He cast a swift, despairing +glance upward. The huge liner was a hundred feet up now, gathering +speed swiftly. To one side was the Gorm, a place of dread and menace. +The gloating enemy were almost upon him. Even the comfort of a weapon, +the grim satisfaction of taking some of his foes to death with him, +was denied him. + +The pencil-ray had been jarred out of his hand by the impact and had +doubtless fallen into the Gorm. + +Grant felt that he had come to the end of the rope. There was no +tremor of fear in him, only regret that he had met the girl and lost +her so soon. What would she do, out in space, alone with Miro? No time +to think of that now, though. The foremost of the Ganymedans were +almost upon him. They intended taking him alive, did they? He braced +himself for the attack, ready to go down fighting. + + * * * * * + +Then a brilliant plan beat suddenly upon his dazzled mind. It was +breath-taking, so simple, yet so desperate did it appear. If it +worked--he would win through. If not--but Grant dismissed that thought +quickly; one form of death was no worse than another. + +Without an instant's hesitation, he whirled and jumped as high as he +could--directly over the Gorm! There was a yell of astonishment from +the Ganymedans--one had already clutched at his intended victim--as +they fell back in horror from the edge. This Earthling was mad to +brave the terrors of the Gorm! + +But Grant heard nothing. He was instantly conscious of a searing, +racking pain that penetrated his every fiber. He forced his eyes +upward, anywhere but beneath him. Was his theory correct, or was he +destined to drop into the fiery lake. For a single interminable +instant, he suffered untold agonies. + +Then his body quivered, and he felt an unmistakable push against him. +He was moving upward, just as he had hoped. The Gorm was repelling +him, even as it had the ship. + +Faster and faster he shot up, chasing the liner. Would he catch up +with it? He strained his eyes. Exultation flooded through him as he +realized that the distance was rapidly lessening between them. The +added impetus of his leap over the Gorm had given him the required +extra fillip of speed. By now, rays were streaking by him. + +Soon he was directly underneath. For an instant he had a quick fear +that he might overshoot his mark. But no--he was sliding past the open +air-lock. He threw himself sideways and caught at it. This time his +fingers held. + +As he squirmed and wriggled into the lock, they were already careening +into the orange tube through the red swirling clouds. There was no +longer any air. Choking, he managed with numbed fingers to screw his +helmet on. Then, closing the lock, he proceeded into the ship. + +Nona was guarding her prisoner vigilantly. Miro sat there, sullen, +defiant. Her glad, welcoming cry filled Grant with a new strange +warmth. + +"I was so afraid for you when the ship started and you didn't show +up," she said, "but I didn't dare leave him alone." She indicated +Miro. + +"Good girl," he said admiringly. "We'll bind him now and then I want +to show you something." + + * * * * * + +They stood a little later at the bow quartz port-hole. Down the long +shaft through which they had risen they saw the glaring flame of the +Gorm. As they looked, its regular pulsations turned irregular: it +leaped and splashed as though it was a stormy, choppy sea. Then it +gave one final mighty heave, and the universe seemed to shatter +beneath them. The "walls" of the shaft collapsed about them and they +were enswathed in a raging storm of red clouds. + +Nona turned to Grant. "Now, will you explain?" + +"Certainly," he grinned boyishly. "I simply reversed the switch that +changes the current of the Gorm. I knew that it would then repel the +liner out into space, as Miro was incautious enough to inform me. + +"Then I figured that if instead of direct current, an alternating flow +could be induced, so as to attract and repel in quick succession, +enough of a disturbance would be raised in that highly unstable +mixture to start fireworks. So I rigged up an automatic break in the +circuit, timed it to permit us to get up enough speed from the +repulsion to be safely on our way before it would start. The +circuit-breaker worked and the alternating current did the rest. That +island is wiped out, and so is the Gorm. There'll be no further threat +of danger to the solar system from that." + +"And Miro, what are we going to do with him?" + +"Turn him over to the Service. They'll take care of him. And now, +young lady, if you have no further questions, shall I say it again?" + +She smiled up at him tenderly, answering: + +"If you wish." + + * * * * * + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pirates of the Gorm, by Nat Schachner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PIRATES OF THE GORM *** + +***** This file should be named 29299.txt or 29299.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/9/29299/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, 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 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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