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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/29475-8.txt b/29475-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6430652 --- /dev/null +++ b/29475-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2347 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Under Arctic Ice, by H.G. Winter + +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: Under Arctic Ice + +Author: H.G. Winter + +Release Date: July 21, 2009 [EBook #29475] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDER ARCTIC ICE *** + + + + +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 January 1933. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + The Table of Contents is not part of the original magazine. + + + + A Sequel to "Seed of the Arctic Ice" + + + Under Arctic Ice + + _A Complete Novelette_ + + + By H.G. Winter + + * * * * * + + + + + Contents + + + I An Empty Room + II The Crash + III The Fate of the Peary + IV "No Chance Left" + V Last Assault + VI In a Biscuit Can + VII The Awakening + VIII The Duel + + * * * * * + + + + +[Sidenote: Ken Torrance races Poleward to the aid of the submarine +_Peary_, trapped in an icy limbo of avenging sealmen.] + +CHAPTER I + +_An Empty Room_ + + +The house where the long trail started was one of gray walls, gray +rooms and gray corridors, with carpets that muffled the feet which at +intervals passed along them. It was a house of silence, brooding +within the high fence that shut it and the grounds from a landscape +torpid under the hot sun of summer, and across which occasionally +drifted the lonely, mournful whistle of a train on a nearby railroad. +Inside the house there was always a hush, a heavy quiet--restful to +the brain. + +But now a voice was raised, young, angry, impatient, in one of the +gray-walled rooms. + +"Yes, I rang for you. I want my bags packed. I'm leaving this +minute!" + +The face of the man who had entered showed surprise. + +"Leaving, Mr. Torrance? Why?" + +"Read this!" + +[Illustration: _She was fastened in the mud of the gloomy sea-floor._] + +As if, knowing and therefore dreading what he would see, the attendant +took the newspaper held outstretched to him and followed the pointing +finger to a featured column. He scanned it: + + Deadline Passed for Missing Submarine + + Point Barrow, Aug. 17 (AP): Planes sent out to search for + the missing polar submarine _Peary_ have returned without + clue to the mystery of is disappearance. The close search + that has been conducted through the last two weeks, + involving great risks to the pilots, has been fruitless, and + authorities now hold out small hope for Captain Sallorsen, + his crew and the several scientists who accompanied the + daring expedition. + + If the _Peary_, as is generally thought, is trapped beneath + the ice floes or embedded in the deep silt of the polar + sea-floor, her margin of safety has passed the deadline, it + was pointed out to-day by her designers. Through special + rectifiers aboard, her store of air can be kept capable of + sustaining life for a theoretical period of thirty-one days. + And exactly thirty-one days have now elapsed since last the + _Peary's_ radio was heard from a position 72° 47' N, 162° + 22' W, some twelve hundred miles from the North Pole itself. + + In official circles, hope was practically abandoned for the + missing submarine, though attempts will continue to be made + to locate her.... + +"I'm sorry, Mr. Torrance," said the attendant nervously. "This paper +should--" + +"Should never have reached me, eh? Through some slip of the people who +censor my reading matter here, I read what I wasn't supposed +to--that's what you mean?" + +"It was thought better, Mr. Torrance, by the doctors, and--" + +"Good God! Thought better! Through their sagacity, these doctors have +probably condemned the men on this submarine to death! I haven't heard +a word about the expedition; didn't even know the _Peary_ was up +there, much less missing!" + +"Well, Mr. Torrance," the attendant stammered, more and more +unsettled, "the doctors thought that--that any news about it +would--well, upset you." + +The young man laughed bitterly; + +"Bring on my old 'trouble,' I suppose. The doctors have been +considerate, but I won't concern them any more. I'm through. I'm +leaving for the north--right now. There's a bare chance I might still +be in time." + +"I'm sorry, Mr. Torrance, but you can't." + +"Can't?" + +The attendant had retreated to the door. His eyes were nervous, his +face pale. + +"It's orders, Mr. Torrance. You've been under observation treatment, +and the doctors left strict orders that you must stay." + +The young man throbbed with dangerous anger. His hands clenched and +unclenched. He burst out, in a last attempt at reason: + +"But don't you see, I've _got_ to get to the _Peary_! It's the last +hope for those men! The position she was last heard from is right +where I--" + +"You can't leave, Mr. Torrance! I'm sorry, but I'll have to call a +guard!" + +For a minute their eyes held. With an effort, the young man said more +calmly: + +"I see. I see. I'm a prisoner. All right, leave me." + +The attendant was more than willing. The young man heard the door's +lock click. And then he lowered his head and pressed his hands hard +into his face. + +But a second later he was looking up again, at the single wide window +which gave out on the lonely landscape over which sometimes came +drifting the distant cry of a train's whistle. + + * * * * * + +Two months before, Kenneth Torrance had returned to the whaling +submarine _Narwhal_, of which he was first torpooner, with a confused +story of men who were half-seals that lived in mounds under the Arctic +ice,[1] who had captured him and--he found--had also captured the +second torpooner, Chanley Beddoes. In breaking free from their +mound-prison, Beddoes had killed one of the sealmen and had been +himself slain minutes later by a killer whale, one of the fierce +scavengers of the sea which the sealmen trapped for food even as the +_Narwhal_ sought them for oil. Ken Torrance alone came back. + +[Footnote 1: See the February, 1932, issue of Astounding Stories.] + +Over their doubts, he had stuck to his story. Later, he had repeated +it to officials of the Alaska Whaling Company, who worked the +submarine and several surface ships. They in return had sent him to a +private sanitarium in the State of Washington for a rest which they +hoped would "iron out the kink" in his brain. + +Here Ken had been for six weeks, while the exploring submarine _Peary_ +nosed her way northward toward the Pole. Here he had been, all +unknowing, while the world hummed with reports of the _Peary's_ +disappearance in that far-off ever-shrouded sea of mystery. + +She might, Ken knew, have struck a shaft of underwater ice, sending +her to the bottom; some of her machinery might have cracked up, +paralyzing her; the ice-fields under which she cruised might have +shifted suddenly, crushing her ribs--of these perils the world knew as +well as he. But the submarine's crew was prepared for them; the +_Peary_ was equipped with a circular saw for cutting up through the +ice from beneath, and she carried sea-suits which would allow her men, +if she were wrecked on the bottom, to leave her and get up on the ice +and wait for the first searching plane. + +Why, then, had not the planes which scoured the region found the +survivors? + +That was the mystery--but not to Ken Torrance. There was another +peril, of which he alone knew. Not far from where the _Peary's_ last +radio report had come, a group of hollowed-out mounds lay on the +sea-floor, swarming with brown-skinned, quick-swimming creatures. +Sealmen, they were--men who, like the seals, had gone back to the sea. +Months ago, Second Torpooner Chanley Beddoes had killed one of them. +They were intelligent; they could remember; they were capable of hate +and fear; they would be desirous of leveling the debt! + +There, Ken felt sure, lay the reason for the _Peary's_ baffling +silence, for the non-appearance of her men. + +There might still be time. No one of course would listen to him and +believe, so he would have to go in search of the _Peary_ and her crew +himself. + +Standing by the window, Kenneth Torrance quickly planned the several +steps which would take him to the Arctic and its silent ice-coated +sea. + +And when, some two hours later, after a short warning rap on the door, +the individual who served as Mr. Torrance's attendant entered his +room, he was confronted, not by the gentleman whose dinner he carried, +but by an empty room, a stripped bed, an open window, and a rope of +sheets dangling from it toward the ground two stories beneath. + +That was at seven o'clock in the evening. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +_The Crash_ + + +At a few minutes before eight o'clock, Air Mail Pilot Steve Chapman +was enjoying a quiet cigarette while waiting for the mechanics to warm +up the five hundred horses of his mail plane satisfactorily. Halfway +through, he heard, from behind, a quick patter of feet, and, turning, +he observed a figure clad in flannel trousers and sweater. The +cigarette dropped right out of his mouth as he cried: + +"Ken! Ken Torrance!" + +"Thank God you're here!" said Kenneth Torrance. "I gambled on it. +Steve, I've got to borrow your own personal plane." + +"What?" gasped Steve Chapman. "What--what--?" + +"Listen, Steve. I haven't been with the whaling company lately; been +resting, down here--secluded. Didn't know that submarine, the _Peary_, +was missing. I just learned. And I know damned well what's happened to +it. I've got to get to it, quick is I can, and I've got to have a +plane." + +Steve Chapman said rather faintly: + +"But--where was the _Peary_ when they last heard from her?" + +"Some twelve hundred miles from the Pole." + +"And you want to get there in a plane? From here?" + +"Must!" + +"Boy, you stand about one chance in twenty!" + +"Have to take it. Time's precious, Steve. I've got to stop in at the +Alaska Whaling Company's outpost at Point Christensen, then right on +up. I can't even begin unless I have a plane. You've got to help me on +my one chance of bringing the _Peary's_ men out alive! You'll probably +never see the plane again, Steve, but--" + +"To hell with the plane, if you come through with yourself and those +men," said the pilot. "All right, kid, I don't get it all, but I'm +playing with you. You're taking my own ship." + +He led Ken to a hangar wherein stood a trim five-passenger amphibian; +and very soon that amphibian was roaring out her deep-throated song of +power on the line, itching for the air, and Steve Chapman was shouting +a few last words up to the muffled figure in the enclosed control +cockpit. + +"Fuel'll last around forty hours," he finished. "You'll find two +hundred per, easy, and twenty-five hours should take you clear to +Point Christensen. I put gun and maps in the right pocket; food in +that flap behind you. Go to it, Ken!" + +Ken Torrance gripped the hand outstretched to his and held it tight. +He could say nothing, could only nod--this was a real friend. He gave +the ship the gun. + +Her mighty Diesel bellowed, lashed the air down and under; the +amphibian spun her retractable wheels over the straight hard ground +until they lifted lightly and tilted upward in a slow climb for +altitude. With fiery streams from the exhaust lashing her flanks, she +faded into the darkness to the north. + +"Well," murmured Steve Chapman, "I've got her instalments left, +anyway!" And he grinned and turned to the mail. + + * * * * * + +That night passed slowly by; and the next day; and all through night +and day the steady roar of beating cylinders hung in Kenneth +Torrance's ears. At last came Point Christensen and a descent; sleep +and then quick, decisive action; and again the amphibian rose, heavily +loaded now, and droned on toward the ice and the cold bleak skies of +the far north. On, ever on, until Point Barrow, Alaska's northernmost +spur, was left behind to the east, and the world was one of drifting +ice on gray water. Muscles cramped, mind dulled by the everlasting +roar, head aching and weary, Ken held the amphibian to her steady +course, until a sudden wind shook her momentarily from it. + +A rising wind. The skies were ugly. And then he remembered that the +men at Point Christensen had warned him of a storm that was brewing. +They'd told him that he was heading into disaster; and their +surprised, rather fearful faces appeared before him again, as he had +seen them just before taking off, after he had told them where he was +going. + +Of course they'd thought him crazy. He had brought the amphibian down +in the little harbor off the whaling company's base, gone ashore and +greeted his old friends. There was only a handful of men stationed +there; the _Narwhal_ was being overhauled in a shipyard at San +Francisco, and it wasn't the season for surface whalers. They knew +that he, Ken, had been put in a sanitarium; all of them had heard his +wild story about sealmen. But he concocted a plausible yarn to account +for his arrival, and they had fed him and given him a berth in the +bunkhouse for the night. + +For the night! Ken Torrance grinned as he recalled the scene. In the +middle of the night he had risen, quickly awakened four of the +sleeping men, and with his gun forced them to take a torpoon from the +outpost's storehouse and put it inside the amphibian's passenger +compartment. + +It was robbery, and of course they'd thought him insane, but they +didn't dare cross him. He had told them cheerfully he was going after +the _Peary_, and that if they wanted the torpoon back they were to +direct the searching planes to keep their eyes on the place where the +submarine was last heard from.... + + * * * * * + +Ken came back to the present abruptly as the plane lurched. The wind +was getting nasty. At least he did not have much farther to go; an +hour's flying time would take him to his goal, where he must descend +into the water to continue his search. His search! Had it been, he +wondered, a useless one from the start? Had the submarine's crew been +killed before he'd even read of her disappearance? If the sealmen got +them, would they destroy them immediately? + +"I doubt it," Ken muttered to himself. "They'd be kept prisoners in +one of those mounds, like I was. That is, if they haven't killed any +of the creatures. It hangs on that!" + +An hour's time, he had reckoned; but it was more than an hour. For +soon the world was blotted out by a howling dervish of wind and driven +snow that time and time again snatched the amphibian from Ken's +control and hurled it high, or threw it down like a toy toward the +inferno of sea and ice he knew lay beneath. He fought for altitude, +for direction, pitched from side to side, tumbled forward and back, +gaining a few hundred feet only to feel them plucked breathtakingly +out from under him as the screaming wind played with him. + +Now and again he snatched a glance at the torpoon behind. The +gleaming, twelve-foot, cigar-shaped craft, with its directional +rudders, propeller, vision-plate and nitro-shell gun lay safely +secured in the passenger compartment, a familiar and reassuring sight +to Ken, who, as first torpooner of the _Narwhal_, had worked one for +years in the chase for killer whales. Soon, it seemed, he would have +to depend on it for his life. + +For all the Diesel's power, it was not enough to cope with the dead +weight of ice which was forming over the plane's wings and fuselage. +He could not keep the altimeter up. However he fought, Ken saw that +finger drop down, down--up a trifle, quivering as the racked plane +quivered--and then down and down some more. + +He saw that the plane was doomed. He would have to abandon it--in the +torpoon--if he could. + +He was some thirty miles from his objective. The sea beneath would be +half hidden under ragged, drifting floes. In fair weather he could +have chosen a landing space of clear water, but now he could not +choose. The altitude dial said that the water was three hundred feet +beneath, and rapidly rising nearer. + +A margin of seconds in which to prepare! Ken locked the controls and +scrambled back into the passenger compartment. Steadying himself on +the bucking floor, he opened the torpoon's entrance port and slid in; +quickly he locked the port and strapped the inner body harness around +him; and then he waited. + +Now it was all chance. If the plane crashed into clear water, he was +safe; but if she hit ice.... He put that thought from him. + +The locked controls held the amphibian for perhaps thirty seconds. +Then with a scream the storm-giant took her. A mad up-current of wind +hurled her high, whirled her dizzily, toyed with her--and then she +spun and dove. Down, down, down; down with a speed so wild Ken grew +faint; down through the core of a maelstrom of snow till she crashed. + +Kenneth Torrance knew a sudden shaking impact; for an instant there +was uncertainty; and then came all-pervading quiet.... + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_The Fate of the Peary_ + + +Quiet, and utter, liquid darkness. + +Liquid! Around him, Ken heard a gurgling, at first loud and close, +then subsiding to a low whispering of currents. The amphibian had hit +water. + +Gone in an instant was the shriek and fury of the storm and in its +place the calm, slow-heaving silence of underwater. The plane was +shattered in a dozen places, but the torpoon had easily stood it. + +Ken turned to action. He switched on the torpoon's dashboard lights +and twin bow-beams, and saw that the shell was wedged in the fuselage. +The plane was apparently entirely under the surface, and her interior +filled with water. + +Holding the propeller in neutral, he revved up the powerful electric +motor. Then he bit the propeller in, slowly. The torpoon nudged back +for inches. Then, throwing the gear into forward, Ken gave her full +speed. The torpoon leaped ahead, crunched through the weakened corner +ahead and was free. + +It was a world of drab tones that she came into. Down below was +impenetrable blackness, shading softly overhead into blue-gray which +was mottled by lighter areas from breaks in the floes above. All was +calm. There was no sign of life save for an occasional vague shadow +that, melting swiftly away, might have been a fish or seaweed. Placid +always, would be this shrouded sea of mystery, no matter what furious +tempest raged above over the flat leagues of ice and water. + +But the seeming peacefulness was but a mask for danger. Kenneth +Torrance's face was set in sober lines as he sped the slim torpoon +northward, her bow lights shafting long white fingers before her. For +now there was only one path--and that lay ahead. He could not turn +back. Storm and water had destroyed the plane that could take him back +to land. He could not possibly reach any outpost of civilization in +the torpoon, for her cruising radius was only twenty hours. He had +planned to land the amphibian on the ice above the spot where the +_Peary_ had disappeared, then find a break in the ice and slide down +below in the torpoon on his quest--to return to the plane if it proved +fruitless. But now there was no retreat. It was succeed, or die. + +And with that realization a more dreadful thought flashed into his +mind. All those men, of the whaling company and the sanitarium, +thought him a little crazy. And, since lunatics are always convinced +of the reality of their visions, what if the sealmen--his adventure +amidst them--had been but a dream, a nightmare, an hallucination? What +if he were in truth crazy? The fear grew rapidly. What if he were? +God! He, hunting for the _Peary_, when all those planes and men had +failed! He, expecting to achieve what those searchers, with far +greater resources, had not been able to! Did not that give evidence +that his mind was twisted? Creatures, half-seal, half-men, living +under the ice--it certainly seemed a lunatic's obsession. + +Then something within him rose and fought back. + +"No!" he cried aloud. "I'll go bugs if I think like that! Those +sealmen were real--and I know where they are. I'm going on!" + +And, an hour later, the dashboard's shaded dials told him he was on +the exact spot where the _Peary_ had last reported.... + + * * * * * + +Here was the real Arctic, the real polar sea. No sun, no breath of the +world above could reach it through its eternal mask of solid ice. As +one of the few unfamiliar aspects of the earth, it was as far removed +from the imagination of man as if it were part of a far planet hung +spinning millions of miles out in space. Men could reach it in shells +of metal, but it was not meant for him, and was always hostile. A +dozen times a daring one could cross safely its cold lonely reaches, +but the thirteenth time it would snare and destroy him for the +unwanted trespasser he was. + +It was here that the _Peary_ had stepped off into mystery. At this +point her hull had throbbed with air, movement, life; at this point +all had been well. And then, minutes or hours later, close to here, +the sea devil had sprung. + +What had happened? What had trapped her? What, even more baffling, had +kept her men with their manifold safety devices from even reaching and +climbing up on the ice above to signal the searching planes? + +Ken Torrance, oppressively alone in the hovering torpoon, gazed +through its vision-plate of fused quartz around him. Gray sea, +filtering to black beneath; distant eerie shadows, probably meaning +nothing, but possibly all important; ceiling of thick ice above, rough +and in places broken by a sharp down-thrusting spur--these were his +surroundings. These were what he must hunt through, until he came upon +the crumpled remnant of a submarine, or the murky, rounded hillocks +which gave habitation to the creatures he suspected of capturing that +submarine's crew. + + * * * * * + +He began the search systematically. He angled the torpoon down to a +position halfway between sea-floor and ice-ceiling, then swung her in +an ever-widening circle. Soon his orbit had a diameter of a half-mile; +then a mile; then two. + +The torpoon slipped through the water at full speed, her light-beams +like restless antennae, now stabbing to the right to dissolve a +formless shadow, now to the left to throw into blinding white relief a +school of half-transparent fish which scurried with frantic wrigglings +of tails from the glare, now slanting up to bathe the cold glassy face +of an inverted ice-hill, now down to dig two white holes in the deeper +gloom. + +Ken continued this routine for hours. Steadily and low the electric +motor droned in the ears of the watchful pilot, and the stubby +propeller's blades flashed round in a blur of speed between the +slightly slanted rudders. Somewhere, miles away, a splintered +amphibian plane was slipping down to her last landing, and above, +perhaps, the white hell of storm which had brought her low still +bowled over the trackless wastes; but here were only shadows and +shifting gloom, straining the alert eyes to soreness and tensing the +watcher's brain with alarms that, one after another, were only false. + +Until at last he found her. + +Immediately he shut off all his lights. He no longer needed them. Far +in the distance, and below, wavered a faint yellow glow. It was no +fish; it could mean only one thing--the lights of a submarine. + +And lights meant life! There would be none burning in a deserted +submarine. His heart beat fast and his tight, sober lips widened in a +quick grin. He had found the _Peary_! And found her with some life +still aboard her! He was in time! + +So Ken rejoiced while he slid the torpoon down to a level just a few +feet above the silty sea bottom, reducing her to quarter-speed. There +was an urge inside him to switch on his bow-beams, reach them out +toward the submarine's hull to tell all within that help was at last +at hand; he wanted to send the torpoon ahead at full speed. But +caution restrained him to a more deliberate course. He was in the +realm of the sealmen, and he did not wish to attract the attention of +any. So he advanced like a furtive shadow slinking along the dark +sea-bottom, deep in the covering gloom. + +Nearer and nearer, while the distant blur of yellow light grew. Nearer +and nearer to the long-trapped men, while the consciousness that he +had succeeded intoxicated him. He alone had found them! Sealmen or no +sealmen, he had found the _Peary_! And found her with lights lit and +life inside! Nearer and nearer.... + +And then suddenly Ken halted the torpoon and stared with wide, alarmed +eyes. For the submarine was now plainly visible in detail--and he saw +her real plight and with it knew the answer to the mystery of her long +silence and the non-appearance of her men on the ice field above. + + * * * * * + +The _Peary_ was a spectacle of fantastic beauty. It was as if a huge, +rounded piece of amber, mellow, golden, lay in the murk of the +sea-floor. Not steel, hard and grim, but of transparent, shimmering +stuff she was built, all coated a soft yellow by her lights, clearly +visible inside. Ken had known something of her radical construction; +knew that a substance called quarsteel, similar to glass and yet fully +as tough as steel, had been used for her hull, making her a perfect +vehicle for undersea exploration. Her bow was capped with steel, and +her stern, propellers, diving rudders; her port-locks, for the +releasing of torpoons, were also of steel, as were the struts that +braced her throughout--but the rest was quarsteel, glowing and golden +as the heart of amber. + +Beautiful with a wild yet scientific beauty was the _Peary_, but she +was not free. She was trapped. She was fastened to the mud of the +gloomy sea-floor. + +Ropes held her down; and Ken Torrance knew those ropes of old. They +were tough and strong, woven of many strands of seaweed, and twenty or +thirty of them striped the _Peary's_ two hundred feet of hull. +Unevenly spaced, stretched clear over the ship from one side to the +other, they were caught around her up-jutting conning tower, fastened +through her rudders, and holding tight in a score of places. They held +the submarine down despite all the buoyancy of her emptied tanks and +the power of her twin propellers. + +And the sealmen swam around her. + + * * * * * + +Restless dark shadows against the golden hull, they wavered and darted +and poised, totally unafraid. Another in Kenneth Torrance's place +would have put them down as some strange school of large seals, +inordinately curious but nothing more; but the torpooner knew them as +men--men remodeled into the shape of seals; men who, ages ago, had +forsaken the land for the old home of all life, the sea; who, through +the years, had gradually changed in appearance as their flesh had +become coated with layers of cold-resisting blubber; whose movements +had become adapted to the water; whose legs and arms had evolved into +flippers; but whose heads still harbored the now faint spark of +intelligence that marked them definitely as men. + +Emotions similar to man's they had, though dulled; friendliness, +curiosity, anger, hate, and--Ken knew and feared--even a capacity for +vengeance. Vengeance! An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth--the old +law peculiar to man! Chanley Beddoes had slain one of them; if only +the _Peary's_ crew had not killed more! If only that, there might be +hope! + +First he must get inside the submarine. Warily, like a stalking cat, +Ken Torrance inched the torpoon toward the great shining ship. At +least he was in time. Within her he could see figures, most of them +stretched out on the decks of her different compartments, but one of +whom occasionally moved--slowly. He understood that. For weeks now the +_Peary_ had lain captive, and her air had passed beyond the aid of +rectifiers. Tortured, those survivors inside were, constantly +struggling for life, with vitality ever sinking lower. Some might +already be dead. But at least he could try to save the rest. + +He approached her from one side of the rear, for in the rear +compartment were her two torpoon port-locks. The one on his side was +empty, its outer door open. The torpoon it had held had been sent out, +probably for help, and had not returned. It provided a means of +entrance for him. + +At perhaps a hundred feet from the port-lock, Ken halted again. His +slim craft was almost indistinguishable in the murk: he felt +reasonably safe from discovery. For minutes he watched the swimming +sealmen, waiting for the best chance to dart in. + + * * * * * + +It was then, while studying the full length of the submarine more +closely, that he saw that one compartment of her four was filled with +water. Her steel-caped bow had been stove in. That, he conjectured, +had been the original accident which had brought her down. It was not +a fatal accident in itself, for there were three other compartments, +all separated by watertight bulkheads, and the flooded one could be +repaired by men in sea-suits--but then the sealmen had come and roped +her down where she lay. Some of the creatures, he saw, were actually +at that time inside the bow compartment, swimming around curiously +amidst the clustered pipes, wheels and levers. It was a weird sight, +and one that held his eyes fascinated. + +But suddenly, through his absorption, danger prickled the short hairs +of his neck. A lithe, sinuous shadow close ahead was wavering, and +large, placid brown eyes were staring at him. A sealman! He was +discovered! And instinctively, immediately, Ken Torrence brought the +torpoon's accelerator down flat. + +The shell jumped ahead with whirling propeller. The creature that had +seen him doubled around and sped in retreat. In brief snatches, as the +torpoon streaked across the hundred-foot gap to the empty port-lock, +Ken glimpsed his discoverer gathering a group of its fellows, and saw +brown-skinned bodies swarm after him with nooses of seaweed-rope--and +then the great transparent side wall of the _Peary_ was before him, +and the port-locks dark opening. Ken threw his motor into reverse, +slid the torpoon slightly to one side, and there was a jerk, a jar, +and a sensation of something moving behind. + +He turned to see the port-lock's outer door closing, activated by +controls inside the submarine--and just in time to shut out the first +of his pursuers. Then the port-lock's pumps were draining the water +from the chamber, and the inner door clicked and opened. + +Kenneth Torrance climbed stiffly from the torpoon to enter the +interior of the long-lost and besieged exploring submarine _Peary._ + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"_No Chance Left_" + + +His entrance was an unpleasant experience. He had forgotten the +condition of the air inside the submarine, and what its effect on him, +coming straight from comparatively good and fresh air, would be, until +he was seized by a sudden choking grip around his throat. He reeled +and gasped, and was for a minute nauseated. Lights flashed around him, +and teetering backward he leaned weakly, against some metal object +until gradually his head cleared; but his lungs remained tortured, and +his breathing a thing of quick, agonised gulps. + +Then came sounds. Figures appeared before him. + +"From where--" "Who are you?" + +"What--what--what--" "How did you?" + +The half-coherent questions were couched in whispers. The men around +him were blear-eyed and haggard-faced, their skins dry and bluish, and +not a one was clad in more than undershirt and trousers. Alive and +breathing, they were--but breathing grotesquely, horribly. They made +awful noises at it; they panted, in quick, shallow sucks. Some lay on +the deck at his feet, outstretched without energy enough to attempt to +rise. + +Beautiful and slumber-like the submarine had appeared from outside, +but inside that effect was lost. There were the usual appurtenances: a +maze of pipes, wheels, machinery, all silent now, and cold; here were +the two port-locks for torpoons; the emergency steering controls; the +small staterooms of the _Peary's_ officers. Looking forward, still +striving for complete clear-headedness and normality, Ken could see +the two intact forward compartments, silent and apparently lifeless, +with dim lamps burning. They ended with the watertight bulkhead which +stood between them and the flooded bow compartment. + +Ken at last found words, but even his short query cost a sickening +effort. + +"Where's--the commander?" he asked. + + * * * * * + +A man turned from where he had been leaning against a nearby wheel +control. He was stripped to the waist. His tall body was stooped, and +the skin of his ruggedly cut face drawn and parchment-like. His face +had once been dignified and authoritative, but now it was that of a +man who nears death after a long, bitter fight for life. The smile +which he gave to Ken was painful--a mockery. + +"I am," he said faintly. "Sallorsen. Just wait, please. A minute. I +worked port-lock. Breath's gone...." + +He sucked shallowly for air and let his smile go. And standing there, +beside him, gazing at the worn frame, Ken felt strength come back. He +had just entered; this man and the others had been here for weeks! + +"I'm Sallorsen," the captain went on at last. All his words were +clipped off, to cost minimum effort. "Glad you got through. Afraid +you're come to prison, though." + +"No!" Ken said emphatically. He spoke to the captain, but what he said +was also for all the others grouped around him. "No, Captain! I'm +Kenneth Torrance. Once torpooner with Alaska Whaling Company. They +thought me crazy--crazy--'cause I told about sealmen. Put me in +sanitarium. I knew they had you--when--heard you were missing." He +pointed at the brown-skinned creatures that clustered close around the +submarine outside her transparent walls. "I got free and came. Just in +time." + +"In time? For what?" + +Another voice gasped out the question. Ken turned to a +broad-shouldered man with a ragged growth of beard that had been a +trim Van Dyke; and before the torpooner could answer, Sallorsen said: + +"Dr. Lawson. One of our scientists. In time for what?" + +"To get you and the submarine free," said Ken. + +"How?" + + * * * * * + +Ken paused before replying. He gazed around--out the side walls of +glistening quarsteel into the sea gloom, into the thick of the smooth, +lithe, brown-skinned shapes that now and again poised pressing against +the submarine, peering in with their liquid seal's eyes. Dimly he +could see the taut seaweed ropes stretching down from the top of the +_Peary_ to the sea-bottom. It looked hopeless, and to these men inside +it was hopeless. He knew he must speak in confident, assured tones to +drive away the uncaring lethargy holding them all, and he framed +definite, concise words with which to do it. + +"These creatures have caught you," he began, "and you think they want +to kill you. But look at them. They seem to be seals. They're not. +They're men! Not men like us--half-men--sealmen, rather--changed into +present form by ages of living in the water. I know. I was captured by +them once. They're not senseless brutes; they have a streak of man's +intelligence. We must communicate with that intelligence. Must reason +with them. I did once. I can do it again. + +"They're not really hostile. They're naturally peaceful; friendly. But +my friend--dead now--killed one of them. Naturally they now think all +creatures like us enemies. That's why they trapped your sub. + +"They think you're enemies; think you want to kill them. But I'll tell +them--through pictures, as I did once before--that you mean them no +harm. I'll tell them you're dying and must have air--just as they +must. I'll tell them to release submarine and we'll go away and not +disturb them again. Above all I must get across that you wish them no +harm. They'll listen to what my pictures will say--and let us +go--'cause at heart they're friendly!" + + * * * * * + +He paused--and with a ghastly, twisted smile, Captain Sallorsen +whispered: + +"The hell you say!" + +His sardonic comment brought a sudden chill to Kenneth Torrance. He +feared one thing that would render his whole value useless. He asked +quickly: + +"What have you done?" + +"Those seals," Sallorsen's labored voice continued "--they've killed +eight of us. Now they're killing all." + +"But have you killed any of them?" Breathless, Ken waited for the +answer be feared. + +"Yes. Two." + +The men were all staring at Ken, so he had to hide the awful dejection +which clamped his heart. He only said: + +"That's what I feared. It changes everything. No use trying to reason +with them now." He fell silent. "Well," he said at last, trying to +appear more cheerful, "tell me what happened. Maybe there's something +you've overlooked." + +"Yes," Sallorsen whispered. He started to come forward to the +torpooner, but stumbled and would have fallen had not Ken caught him +in time. He put one of the captain's arms around his shoulder, and one +of his own around the man's waist. + +"Thanks," Sallorsen said wryly. "Walk forward. Show you what +happened." + + * * * * * + +There were men in the second compartment, and they still fought to +live. From the narrow seamen's berths that lined the walls came the +sound of breathing even more torturous than that of the men in the +rear. In the single bulb's dim light Ken could see their shapes +stretched motionlessly out, panting and panting. Occasionally hands +reached up to claw at straining necks, as if to try and rid throats of +strangling grasps. Two figures had won free from the long struggle. +They lay silent and still, the outline of their dead bodies showing +through the sheets pulled over them. + +Slowly Sallorsen led Ken through this compartment and into the next, +which was bare of men. Here were the ship's main controls--her helm, +her central multitude of dials, levers and wheels, her televisiscreen +and old-fashioned emergency periscope. A metal labyrinth it was, all +long silent and inactive. Again the weird contrast struck Ken, for +outside he could still see the scene of vigorous, curious life that +the sealmen constituted. Close they came to the submarine's sheer +walls of quarsteel, peering in stolidly, then flashing away with an +effortless thrust of flippers, sometimes for air from some break in +the surface ice. + +Like men, the sealmen needed air to live, and got it fresh and clean +from the world above. Inside, real men were gasping, fighting, +hopelessly, yielding slowly to the invisible death that lay in the +poisonous stuff they had to breathe.... + +Ken felt Sallorsen nudge him. They had come to the forward end of the +control compartment, and could go no farther. Before them was the +watertight door, in which was set a large pane of quarsteel. The +captain wanted him to look through. + +Ken did so, knowing what to expect; but even so he was surprised by +the strangeness of the scene. In among the manifold devices of the +front compartment, its wheels and pipes and levers, glided slowly the +sleek, blubbery shapes of half a dozen sealmen. Back and forth they +swam, inspecting everything curiously, unhurried and unafraid; and as +Ken stared one of them came right up to the other side of the closed +watertight door, pressed close to the pane and regarded him with large +placid eyes. + +Other sealmen entered through a jagged rip in the plates on the +starboard side of the bow. At this Sallorsen began to speak again in +the short, clipped sentences, punctuated by quick gasps for air. + + * * * * * + +"Crashed, bow-on," he said. "Underwater ice. Outer and inner plates +crumpled like paper. Lost trim and hit bottom. Got this door closed, +but lost four men in bow compartment. Drowned. No chance. Sparks among +'em, at his radio. That's why we couldn't radio for help." He paused, +gasping shallowly. + +"Could've got away if we'd left immediately. One flooded compartment +not enough to hold this ship down. But I didn't know. I sent two men +out in sea-suits--inspect damage. Those devils got them. + +"The seal-things came in a swarm. God! Fast! We didn't realize. They +had ropes, and in seconds they'd lashed us down to the sea-floor. +Lashed us fast!" Again he paused and sucked for the poisoned air, and +Ken Torrance did not try to hurry him, but stood silent, looking +forward to the squashed bow, and out the sides to where he could see +the taut black lines of the seaweed-ropes. + +"The two men put up fight. Had crowbars. Useless--but they killed one +of the devils. That did it. They were torn apart in front of us. +Ripped. Mangled. By spears the things carry. Dead like that." + +"Yes," murmured Ken, "that would do it...." + +"I quick tried to get away," gasped Sallorsen. "Full-speed--back and +forth. No good. Ropes held. Couldn't break. All our power couldn't! So +then--then I acted foolishly. Damn foolish. But we were all a little +crazy. A nightmare, you know. Couldn't believe our eyes--those seals +outside, mocking us. So I called for volunteers. Four men. Put 'em in +sea-suits, gave 'em shears and grappling prongs. They went out. + +"They went out laughing--saying they'd soon have us free! Oh, God!" It +seemed he could not go on, but he forced the words out deliberately. +"Killed without a chance! Ripped apart like the others! No chance! +Suicide!" + +Ken felt the agony in the man, and was silent for a while before +quietly asking: + +"Did they kill any more of the sealmen?" + +"One. Just one. That made two of them--six of us. What the hell are +the rest of them waiting for?" Sallorsen cried. "They killed eight in +all! To our two! That's enough for them, isn't it?" + +"I'm afraid not," said Ken Torrance. "Well, what then?" + +"Sat down and thought. Carefully. Hit on a plan. Took one of our two +torpoons. Lashed on it steel plates, ground to sharp cutting edges. +Spent days at it. Thought torpoon could go out and cut the ropes. +Haines volunteered and we shot him and torpoon out." + +"They got the torpoon?" Ken asked. + +Sallorsen's arm raised in a pointing gesture. "Look." + + * * * * * + +Some fifty feet away from the _Peary_, on the side opposite to the one +Ken Torrance had approached, a dimly discernible object lay in the +mud. In miniature, it resembled the submarine: a cigar-shaped steel +shell, held down to the sea-bottom by ropes bound over it. Cutting +edges of steel had been fastened along its length. + +"I see," said Ken slowly. "And its pilot?" + +"Stayed in the torpoon thirty-six hours. Then went crazy. Put on +sea-suit and tried to get back here. Whisk--they got him. Killed and +mangled while we watched!" + +"But didn't his torpoon have a nitro-shell gun? Couldn't he have +fought them off for a time?" + +"Exploring submarine, this! No guns in torpoons like whalers. Gun +wouldn't help, anyway. These devils too fast. No use. No hope +anywhere...." Sallorsen sank back against the bulkhead, his lips +moving but no sound coming forth. Dully he stared ahead, through the +submarine, for a moment before uttering a cackling mockery of a laugh +and going on. + +"Even after that, still hoped! Blew every tank on ship; blew out most of +her oil. Threw out everything not vital. Lightened her as much as could. +Machinery--detachable metal--fixtures--baggage--instruments--knives, +plates, cups--everything! She rose a couple of feet--no more! Put motors +at full speed--back and forth--again, again, again. Buoyancy--power--no +good. No damn good! + +"And then we tried the last chance. Explosives. Had quite a store, +Nitromite, packed in cases; time-fuses to set it off. Had it for +blasting ice. I sent up a charge and blew hole in the ice overhead, +for our other torpoon. + +"Nothing else left. Knew planes must be nearby, searching. Last +torpoon was to shoot up to the hole--pilot to climb on ice and stay +there to signal a plane." + +"Did he get there?" + +"Hell no!" Sallorsen cackled again. "It was roped like the other. +Pilot tried to get back, but they got him like first. There's the +torpoon--out ahead." + +Ken could just make it out. It lay ahead, slightly to port, lashed +down like its fellow by seaweed-ropes. His eyes were held by it, even +when Sallorsen continued, in an almost hysterical voice: + +"Since then--since then--you know. Week after week. Air getting worse. +Rectifiers running down. No night, no day. Just the lights, and those +damned devils outside. Wore sea-suits for a while; used twenty-nine of +their thirty hours air-units. Old Professor Halloway died, and another +man. Couldn't do anything for 'em. Just sit and watch. Head aching, +throat choking--God!... + +"Some of the men went mad. Tried to break out. Had to show gun. Quick +death outside. Here, slow death, but always the chance that--Chance, +hell! There's no chance left! Just this poison that used to be air, +and those things outside, watching, watching, waiting--waiting for us +to leave--waiting to get us all! Waiting...." + +"Something's up!" said Ken Torrance suddenly. "They've got tired of +waiting!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +_The Last Assault_ + + +Sallorsen turned his head and followed the torpooner's intent, amazed +gaze. + +Ken said: + +"There's proof of their intelligence! I've been watching--didn't +realize at first. Look, here it comes!" + +Several sealmen, while Sallorsen had been talking, had come dropping +down from the main mass of the horde, and had grouped around the +abandoned torpoon which lay some feet ahead of the submarine's bow. +Expertly they had loosened the seaweed-ropes which bound it to the +sea-floor, then slid back, watching alertly, as if expecting the +torpoon to speed away of its own accord. Its batteries, of course, had +worn out weeks before, so the steel shell did net budge. The sealmen +came down close to it again, and lifted it. + +They lifted it easily with their prehensile flipper-arms, and with +maneuvering of delicate sureness guided it through the gash in the +_Peary's_ bow. Inside, they hesitated with it, midway between deck and +ceiling of the flooded compartment. They poised for perhaps a full +minute, judging the distance, while the two men stared; and then +quickly their powerful tail flippers lashed out and the torpoon jumped +ahead. It sped straight through the water, to crash its tough nose of +steel squarely into the quarsteel pane of the watertight door, then +rebounded, and fell to the deck. + +"My God!" gasped Sallorsen. But Ken wasted no words then. He pressed +closer to the quarsteel and examined it minutely. The substance showed +no visible effect, but the action of the sealmen destroyed whatever +hope he had felt. + +The sealmen had swerved aside at the last minute; and now, picking up +the torpoon again and guiding it back to the other end of the +compartment, they hurled it once more with a resounding crash into the +quarsteel pane. + +"How long will it last under that?" Ken asked tersely. + +Obviously, Sallorsen's wits were muddled at this turn. He remained +gaping at the creatures and at the torpoon, now turned against its +mother submarine. Ken repeated the question. + +"How long? Who knows? It's as strong as steel, but--there's the +pressure--and those blows hit one spot. Not--long." + + * * * * * + +Capping his words, there re-echoed again the loud crash of the +torpoon's on the quarsteel. The sealmen were working in quick routine +now; back and quickly forward, and then the crash and the +reverberation; and again and again.... + +The ominous crash and ringing echoes regularly repeated, seemed to +disorganise Ken's mind as he looked vainly for something with which to +brace the door. Nothing unattached was left--nothing! He ran and +examined the quarsteel pane again, and this time his brain heated in +alarm. A thin line had shot through the quarsteel--the beginning of a +crack. + +"Back!" Ken shouted to the still staring Sallorsen. "Back to the third +compartment. This door's going!" + +"Yes," Sallorsen mumbled. "It'll go. So will the others. They'll smash +them all. And when this is flooded--no hope of running the submarine +again. Controls in here." + +"That's too damned bad!" Ken said roughly. "Are there any sea-suits, +food, supplies in here?" + +"Only food. In those lockers." + +"I'll take it. Get into that third compartment--hear me?" ordered +Kenneth Torrance. "And have its door ready to close!" + +He shoved Sallorsen away, opened the indicated lockers and piled his +arms with the tins revealed. He had time for no more than one load. He +jumped back into the third compartment of the _Peary_ just as a +splintering crash sounded from behind. The door between was swung +closed and locked just as the one being battered crashed inward. + +Turning, Ken saw that the torpoon had cracked through the weakened +quarsteel and tumbled in a mad cascade of water to the deck of the +abandoned second compartment. In dread silence, he, with Sallorsen and +those of the men who had strength and curiosity enough to come +forward, watched the compartment rapidly fill--watched until they saw +the water pressed high against the door. And then horror swept over +Ken Torrance. + + * * * * * + +Water! There was a trickle of water down the quarsteel he was leaning +against! A fault along the hinge of the door--either its construction, +or because it had not been closed properly. + +Ken pointed it out to the captain. + +"Look!" he said. "A leak already--just from the pressure! This door +won't last more than a couple of minutes when they start on it--" + +Sallorsen stared stupidly. As for the rest; Ken might not have spoken. +They were as if in a trance, watching dumbly, with lungs automatically +gasping for air. + +One of the seal-creatures eeled through the shattered quarsteel of the +first door and swam slowly around the newly flooded compartment. At +once it was joined by five other lithe, sleek shapes which, with +placid, liquid eyes, inspected the compartment minutely. They came in +a group right up to the next door that barred their way and, with no +visible emotion, stared through the quarsteel pane at the humans who +stared at them. And then they gracefully turned and slid to the +battered torpoon. + +"Back!" Ken shouted, "You men!" He shook them, shoved them roughly +back toward the fourth, and last, compartment. Weakly, like automatons +they shuffled into it. The torpooner said bruskly to Sallorsen: + +"Carry those tins of food back. Hurry! Is there anything stored in +here we'll need? Sallorsen! Captain! Is there anything--" + +The captain looked at him dully; then, understanding, a cackle came +from his throat. "Don't need anything. This is the end. Last +compartment. Finish!" + +"Snap out of it!" Ken cried. "Come on, Sallorsen--there's a chance +yet. Is there anything we'll need in here?" + +"Sea-suits--in those lockers." + +Ken Torrance swung around and rapidly opened the lockers. Pulling out +the bulky suits, he cried: + +"You carry that food back. Then come and help me." + + * * * * * + +But of the corner of his eye, as he worked, he could see the ominous +preparations beyond in the flooded compartment--the sealmen raising +the torpoon, guiding it back to the far end; leveling it out. Ken was +sure the door could not stand more than two or three blows at the +most. Two or three minutes, that meant--but all the sea-suits had to +go back into the fourth compartment! + +He was in torment as he worked. For him, the conditions were just as +bad as for the men who had lived below in the submarine for a month; +the poisonous, foul air racked him just as much; what breath he got he +fought for just as painfully. But in his body was a greater store of +strength, and fresher muscles; and he taxed his body to its very +limit. + +Panting, his head seeming on the point of splitting, Ken Torrance +stumbled through into the last compartment laden with a pile of +sea-suits. He dropped them clattering in a pile around his feet and +forced himself back again. Another trip; and another.... + +It would never have been done had not Sallorsen and Lawson, the +scientist, come to his aid. The help they offered was meager, and +slow, but it sufficed. Laden for the fifth time, Ken heard what he had +been anticipating for every second of the all too short, agonizing +minutes: a sharp, grinding crack, and the following reverberation. He +snatched a glance around to see the torpoon falling to the deck of the +second compartment--the sealmen lifting it swiftly again--and a thin +but definite sliver in the quarsteel of the door. + +But the last suit was gotten into the fourth compartment, and the +connecting door closed and carefully locked and bolted. The removal of +the suits, had been achieved--but what now? + +Panting, completely exhausted, Ken forced his brain to the question. +From every side he attacked the problem, but nowhere could he find the +loophole he sought. Everything, it seemed, had been tried, and had +failed, during the _Peary's_ long captivity. There was nothing left. +True, he had his torpoon, and its nitro-shell gun with a clip of +nineteen shells; but what use were shells? Even if each one accounted +for one of the sealmen, there would still remain a swarm. + +And the sea-suits. He had struggled for them and had saved them, but +what use could he put them to? Go out leading a desperate final sally +for the hole in the ice above? Death in minutes! + +No hope. Nothing. Not even a fighting chance. These seal-creatures, +strange seed of the Arctic ice, had trapped the _Peary_ all too well. +On the roll of mysteriously missing ships would her name go down; and +he, Ken Torrance, would be considered a lunatic who had sought +suicide, and found it.... + + * * * * * + +Of the twenty-one survivors of the _Peary's_ officers and crew, only a +dozen had the will to watch the inexorable advance of the sealmen. The +rest lay in various attitudes on the deck of the rear compartment, +showing no sign of life save torturous, shallow pantings for air and, +occasionally, spasmodic clutchings at their throats and chests, as +they tried to fight off the deadly, invisible foe that was slowly +strangling them. + +Ken Torrance, Sallorsen, the scientist, Lawson, and a few others were +pressed together at the last watertight door, peering through the +quarsteel at the sea-creatures' systematic assault on the door leading +into the third compartment. A straight, hard smash at it; another +final splintering smash--and again the torpoon pushed through in the +van of a cascade of icy, greenish water, which quickly claimed the +control compartment for the attackers behind. The creatures were +growing bolder. More and more of them had entered the submarine, and +soon each open compartment was filled from deck to ceiling with the +slowly turning, graceful brown bodies, inspecting minutely the +countless wheels and levers and gauges, and inspecting also, in +turns, the pale, worn faces that stared with dull eyes at them +through the sole remaining door. + +There was no further retreat, now. Behind was only water and the swarm +that passed to and fro through it. Water and sealmen--ahead, above, to +the sides, behind--everywhere. Cooped in their transparent cell, the +crew of the submarine _Peary_ waited the end. + + * * * * * + +Once more, as well as he could with his throbbing head and heavy, +choking body, Kenneth Torrance tracked over the old road that had +brought him nowhere, but was the only road open. Carefully he took +stock of everything he had that he might possibly fight with. + +There were sea-suits for the men, and in each suit an hour's supply of +artificial but invigorating air. Two port-locks, one on each side of +the stern compartment. A torpoon, with a gun and nineteen shells. +Nothing else? There seemed to be, in his mind, a vague memory of +something else ... something that might possibly be of use ... +something.... But he could not remember. Again and again the agony of +slow strangulation he was going through drove everything but the +consciousness of pain from his shirking mind. But there was something +else--and perhaps it was the key. Perhaps if he could only remember +it--whatever it was--whether a tangible thing or merely a passing idea +of hours ago--the way out would be suddenly revealed. + +But he could not remember. He had the sea-suits, the port-locks and +the torpoon: what possible pattern could he weave them into to bring +deliverance? + +No, there was nothing. Not even a girder that could be unfastened in +time to brace the last door. No way of prolonging this last stand! + +Beside Ken, the strained, panting voice of Lawson whispered: + +"Getting ready. Over soon now. All over." + +All save five of the sealmen had left the third compartment, to join +the swarm constantly swimming around and over the submarine outside. +The five remaining were the crew for the battering ram. With measured +and deliberate movements they ranged their lithe bodies beside the +torpoon, lifted it and bore it smoothly back to the far end of the +compartment. There they poised for a minute, while from the men +watching sounded a pathetic sigh of anticipation. + +As one, the five seal-creatures lunged forward with their burden. + +_Crash!_ And the following dull reverberation. + +The last assault had begun. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_In a Biscuit Can_ + + +Ken Torrance glanced with dull, hopeless eyes over the compartment he +stood in. Figures stretched out all over the deck, gasping, panting, +strangling--men waiting in agony for death. His head sank down, and he +wiped wet hands across his aching forehead. Nothing to do but +wait--wait for the end--wait as the patient horde outside had been +waiting in the sea-gloom for their moment of triumph, when the soft +bodies inside the _Peary_ would be theirs to rip and mangle.... + +A dragging sound brought Ken's eyes wearily up and to the side. One of +the crew who had been lying on the deck was dragging his body +painfully toward a row of lockers at one side of the compartment. The +man's eyes were feverishly intent on the lockers. + +Ken watched his progress dully, without thinking, as inch by inch he +forced himself through the other bodies sprawled in his way. He saw +him reach the lockers, and for a minute, gasping, lie there. He saw a +clawing arm stretch almost up to the catch on one locker, while the +man whimpered like a child at his lack of quick success. + +_Crash!_ The grinding blow of the torpoon hitting the quarsteel +clanged out from behind. But Ken's mind was all on the reaching man's +strange actions. He saw the fingers at last succeed in touching the +catch. The door of the locker opened outward, and eagerly the man +reached inside and pulled. With a thump, a row of heavy objects strung +together rolled out onto the deck--and Ken Torrance sprang suddenly to +the man's side: + +"What are you doing?" he cried. + +The man looked up sullenly. He mumbled: + +"Damn fish--won't get me. I'll blow us all to hell, first!" + +At that the connection struck Ken. + +"Then that's nitromite!" he shouted. "That's the idea--the nitromite!" + +And stooping down, he wrenched the rope of small black boxes which +contained the explosive from the man who had worked so painfully to +get them. + +"I'll do the blowing, boy!" he said. "Don't worry; I'll do it +complete!" + + * * * * * + +Ken, holding the rope of explosives, crossed the deck and pulled +Sallorsen and Lawson around. Their worn faces, with lifeless, +bloodshot eyes, met his own strong features, and he said forcefully: + +"Now listen! I need your help. I've found our one last chance for +life. We three are the strongest, and we've got to work like hell. +Understand?" + +His enthusiasm and the vigor of his words roused them. + +"Yes," said Lawson. "What--we do?" + +"You say there's an hour's air left in the sea-suits?" Torrance asked +the captain. + +"Yes. An hour." + +"Then get the men into the suits," the torpooner ordered. "Help the +weaker ones; slap them till they obey you!" There came the ugly, +deafening crash of the hurled torpoon into the compartment door. Ken +finished grimly: "And for God's sake, hurry! I'll explain later." + +Sallorsen and Lawson unquestioningly obeyed. Ken had reached the +spirit in them, the strength not physical, that had all but been +driven out by the long, hopeless weeks and the poisonous stuff that +passed for air, and it had risen and was responding. Sallorsen's +voice, for the first time in days, had his old stern tone of command +in it as, calling on everything within him, he shouted: + +"Men, there's still a chance! Everyone into sea-suits! Quick!" + +A few of the blue-skinned figures lying panting on the deck looked up. +Fewer moved. They did not at once understand. Only four or five +dragged themselves with pathetic eagerness towards the pile of +sea-suits and the little store of fresh air that remained in them. +Sallorsen repeated his command. + +"Hurry! Men--you, Hartley and Robson and Carroll--your suits on! +There's air in them! _Put 'em on!_" + + * * * * * + +And then Lawson was among them, shaking the hopeless, dying forms, +rousing them to the chance for life. Several more crawled to obey. By +the time the next crash of the torpoon came, eleven out of the +twenty-one survivors were working with clumsy, eager fingers at their +sea-suits, pushing feet and legs in, drawing the tough fabric up over +their bodies, sliding their arms in, and struggling with quick panting +breaths to raise the heavy helmets and fasten them into place. +Then--air! + +Again the ear-shattering crash. The scientist and the captain drove at +the rest of the crew. They stumbled, those two fighting men, and twice +Lawson went down in a heap as his legs gave under him; but he got up +again, and they began dragging the suits to the men who had not even +the strength to rise, shoving inert limbs into place, switching on the +air-units inside the helmets and, gasping themselves, fastening the +helmets down. Theirs was a conflict as cruel, as hard and brutal as +men smashing at each other with fists, and they then proved their +right to the shining roll of honor, wherever and whatever that roll +may be. They fought on past pain, past sickness, past poisoning, that +man of action and men of the laboratory. + +And outside that foul transparent pit the tempo quickened also. The +sledging blows at the last door came quicker. All around the captive +_Peary_ the sleek brown bodies stirred uneasily. For weeks there had +been but little activity inside the submarine; now, all at once, three +of the figures that were men whipped the others into action, rousing +those lying dying on the deck--working, working. Observing this, the +lithe seal bodies moved with new nervous, restless strokes, to and +fro, never pausing--passing up and down in a milling stream the length +of the craft, clustering closest outside the walls of the fourth +compartment, where they pressed as close as they could, their wide +brown eyes already on the haggard forms that worked inside, their +smooth bodies patterned by the constantly shifting shadows of their +fellows above and behind. + +So they watched and waited, while in the third compartment the +battered torpoon was slung at the last door, and drawn back, and slung +again--waited for the final moment, the crisis of their month-long +siege beneath the floes of the silent Arctic sea! + + * * * * * + +Kenneth Torrance worked by himself. + +He saw that Sallorsen and Lawson had answered his call; man after man +was clad in his suit and sucking in the incomparably fresher, though +artificial, air of the units. As he had hoped, that air was +revitalizing the worn-out bodies rapidly, giving them new strength and +clearing their brains. His plan required that--strength for the men to +move and act for themselves--sane heads! + +The plan was basically simple. Bringing his best concentration to the +all-important details, Ken started to build the road to the world +above. + +First he opened the inner door of the starboard port-lock, wherein lay +his torpoon. Opening the entrance panel of the steel shell, he quickly +transferred within the cans of compressed food retrieved from the +second compartment. When he had finished, there was left barely room +for the pilot's body. + +And then the nitromite. + +The explosive was carried by the _Peary_ for the blasting of such ice +floes as might trap her. It was contained for chemical stability in a +half dozen six-inch-square, water-proof boxes, strung one after +another on an interconnecting wired rope. Ken would need them all; he +wished he had five times as many. It would not matter if the whole of +the _Peary_ were shattered to slivers. + +Ken tied the rope of boxes into a strong unit, as small as it could be +made. Firing and timing mechanisms were contained in each unit: he +would only have to set one of them. He wrapped the whole charge, +except for one small corner, in several pieces of the men's discarded +clothing--monkey jackets, thick sweaters, a dirty towel--and stuffed +it in an empty tin container for sea-biscuits. + + * * * * * + +All this had taken only minutes. But in those minutes the quarsteel of +the watertight door had been subjected to half a dozen smashing blows, +and already a flaw had appeared in the pane. Another grinding crunch, +and there would be the visible beginning of a crack. Three more, +perhaps, and the door would be down. + +But the plan was laid, the counter move ready; and, as Sallorsen and +Lawson, last of them all, got into suits, Ken Torrance, in short, +gasping sentences, explained it. + +"All the nitromite's in this," Ken said. "I hope it's enough. In a +moment I'll set the timing to explode it in one minute--then eject it +from the empty torpoon port-lock. It's a gamble, but I think the +explosion should kill every damned seal around the sub. Water carries +such shocks for miles, so it should stun, if not kill, all the others +within a long radius. See? We're inside sub, largely protected. When +the stuff explodes, you and men make for the hole you blew in the ice +above." + +Another crash sent echoes resounding through the remaining +compartment. All around the three were suit-clad figures, grotesque +clumsy giants, all feeling new strength as they gulped with leathern +throats and lungs at the artificial air which was giving them a +respite, however brief, from the death they had been sinking into. In +the third compartment of the _Peary_, five seal-like creatures with +swift and beautiful movements picked up their torpoon battering ram +again; while all around the outside of the _Peary_ their hundreds of +watching fellows pressed in closely. + + * * * * * + +"Yes!" cried Lawson, the scientist. "But the explosion--it might +shatter the ship!" + +"No matter; I expect it to!" answered Ken. "Then you can leave through +a crack instead of a port-lock." + +"Yes--but you!" objected the captain. "Get on a suit!" + +"No; I'm jumping into my torpoon in the other port-lock. I've got the +food in it. Now, Sallorsen, this is your job. I'll be in my torpoon, +but I won't be able to let myself out the port. You open it, right +after the explosion. Understand?" + +"Yes," replied Sallorsen, and Lawson nodded. + +"All right," gasped Ken Torrance. "Empty the chamber." As the captain +did so, Ken opened the lid of the biscuit can and adjusted the timing +device on the exposed unit in the clothing-wrapped bundle. Then he +replaced it, ticking, in the can and thrust the can bodily into the +emptied chamber of the port-lock. He closed the inner door of the +chamber, and said to the men by him: + +"Close your face-plates!" + +And Ken pushed the release button: and then he was running to the +other port-lock and to his torpoon, and harnessing himself in. + +His brain teemed with the possibilities of the situation as he lay +stretched out in the torpoon, waiting. How much would the submarine be +smashed? Would the charge of nitromite, besides killing the sealmen, +kill everyone inside the _Peary_? For that matter, would it affect the +sealmen at all? How much could the creatures stand? And would the +firing mechanism work? And then would he himself be able to get out; +or would the lock in which the torpoon lay be damaged by the explosion +and trap him there? + +Seconds, only seconds, to wait, small fractions of time--but they were +more important than the days and the weeks that the _Peary_ had lain, +a lashed-down captive, under the Arctic ice; for in these seconds was +to be given fate's final answer to the prayer and courage of them all. + +Time for Ken expanded. Surely the charge should have gone off long +before this! The pulse beat so loudly in his brain that he could hear +nothing else. He counted: "... nine, ten, eleven--" Had the fuse +failed? Surely by now--"... twelve, thirteen, fourteen--" + +On that the submarine _Peary_ leaped. Ken Torrance, himself inside the +torpoon, felt a sharp roll of thunder made tangible, and then complete +darkness took him.... + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_The Awakening_ + + +He had no idea of how long he had been unconscious when, his full +senses returning, he eagerly peered ahead through the torpoon's +vision-plate. For some seconds he could see nothing; but he knew, at +least, that the torpoon had survived the shock, for he was dry and +snug in his harness. And then his eyes became accustomed to the +darkness, and he saw that he was outside the submarine. Sallorsen had +followed his orders; had opened the port-lock! The undersea reaches +lay ahead of him, and the way was clear. + +Ken stared into a gray, silent sea, no longer shadowed with moving +brown-skinned bodies. He tried his motors. Their friendly, rhythmic +hum answered him, and carefully he slipped into gear and crept up off +the sea-floor. He did not dare use his lights. + +The _Peary_ was a great, blurred shadow, a dead thing without glow or +movement, with no figures of sealmen around her. As Ken's eyes gained +greater vision, he was able to make out a wide, long rent running +clear across the top of the fourth compartment of the submarine. The +explosion had done that to her, but what had it done to her crew? What +had it done to the sealmen? + +He saw the sealmen first. Some were quite close, but in the murk he +had missed them. Silent specters, they were apparently lifeless, +strewn all around at different levels, and most of them floating +slowly up toward the dim ice ceiling. + +But up under the ice was movement! Living figures were there! And at +the sight Kenneth Torrance's lips spread in their first real grin for +days. The plan had worked! The sealmen had been destroyed, and already +some of the _Peary's_ men were up there and fumbling clumsily across +the hundred feet which separated them from the hole in the ice that +was the last step to the world above. + + * * * * * + +A ghostly gray haze of light filtered downward through the water from +the hole. Ken counted twelve figures making their way to it. As he +wondered about the rest of the crew, he saw three bulging, swaying +shapes suddenly emerge from the split in the top of the _Peary_, and +begin an easy rise toward the ice ceiling ninety feet above. There was +no apparent danger, and they went up quite slowly, with occasional +brief pauses to avoid the risk of the bends. Clasped together, the +group of three were, and when they were halfway to the glassy ceiling +of the ice, three more left the rent in the submarine and followed +likewise. Twelve men were at the top; six others were swimming up; +three more were yet to leave the submarine--and after they had +abandoned her, he, Ken, would follow with the torpoon and the food it +contained. + +So he thought, watching from where he lay, down below, and there was +in him a great weariness after the triumph so bitterly fought for had +been achieved. He rested through minutes of quiet and relaxation, +watching what he had brought about; but only minutes--for suddenly +without warning all security was gone. + +From out the murky shadows to the left a sleek shape came flashing +with great speed, to jerk Ken Torrance's eyes around and to widen them +with quick alarm. + +A sealman! A sealman alive, and moving--and vengeful! A sealman which +the explosion of nitromite had not reached! + +Doubtless the lone creature was surprised upon seeing all its fellows +motionless, drifting like corpses upward, and the men of the _Peary_ +escaping. With graceful, beautiful speed, a liquid streak, it flashed +into the scene, eeling up and around and down, trying to understand +what extraordinary thing had happened. But finally it slowed down and +hovered some thirty feet directly above the dark hull of the _Peary_. + +The men rising toward the ice had seen the sealman at the same time +Ken Torrance had, and at once increased their efforts, fearing +immediate attack. Quickly the two groups shot to the top where the +other twelve were, and began a desperate fumbling progress over toward +the hole that alone gave exit. But the sealman paid no attention to +them. It was looking at something below. + +Ken saw what it was. + +The last three men were leaving the _Peary_. Awkward, swaying objects, +they rose up directly in front of the hovering creature. + + * * * * * + +With an enraged thrust of flippers, it drove at them. The three +humans--Sallorsen, Lawson and one other, Ken knew they must be--were +clasped together, and the long, lithe, muscular body smote them +squarely, sent them whirling and helpless in different directions in +the sea-gloom. One of them was driven down by the force of the blow, +and that one the sealman chose to finish first. It lashed at him, its +strong teeth bared to rip the sea-suit, concentrating on him all the +rage and all the thirst for vengeance it had. + +But by then, down below, the torpoon's motors were throbbing at full +power; the thin directional rudders were slanting; the torpoon was +turning and pointing its nose upward; and Ken Torrance, his face bleak +as the Arctic ice, was grasping the trigger of the nitro-shell gun. + +He might perhaps have saved the doomed man had he swept straight up +then and fired, but a quick mounting of the odds distracted him for a +fatal second. Out of the deeper gloom at the left came a swiftly +growing shadow, and Ken, with a sinking in his stomach, knew it for a +second sealman. + +Then another similar shadow brought his eyes to the right. + +Two more sealmen! Three now--and how many more might come? + +At once Ken knew what he must do before ever he fired a shell at one +of the brown-skinned shapes. The man just attacked had to be +sacrificed in the interests of the rest. The torpoon swerved, thrust +up toward the ice ceiling under the full force of her motors; and when +halfway to it, and her gun-containing bow was pointed at a spot in the +ice only twenty feet in front of the foremost of the men stroking +desperately towards the distant exit-hole, Ken pressed the trigger; +and again, and again and again.... + +Twelve shells, quick, on the same path, bit into the ice. Almost +immediately came the first explosion. It was swelled by the others. +The ice shivered and crumbled in jagged splinters--and then there was +a new column of light reaching down from the world of air and life +into the darkness of the undersea. A roughly circular hole gaped in +the ice sixty or seventy feet nearer the swimming men than the old +one. + +"That'll give 'em a chance," muttered Kenneth Torrance. He plunged the +torpoon around and down. "And now for a fight!" + + * * * * * + +Without pause, now, there was, straight ahead, a hard, desperate duel, +a fitting last fight for any torpoon or any man riding one. Each of +the seven shells left in the nitro-gun's magazine had to count; and +the first of them gave a good example. + +Ken turned down in time to see the death of the man first attacked. +His suit was ripped clean across, his air of life went up in bubbles, +and the water came in. The seal-creature lunged at its falling victim +a last time, and as it did so its smooth brown body crossed Ken's +sights. The torpooner fired, and saw his shell strike home, for the +body shuddered, convulsed, and the sealman, internally torn, went +sinking in a dark cloud after the human it had slain. + +That sight gave pause to the other two creatures that had arrived, and +gave Ken Torrance a good second chance. Motor throbbing, the torpoon +turned like a thing alive. Its snout and gun-sights swerving straight +toward the next target. But, when just on the point of pressing the +trigger, Ken's torpoon was struck a terrific blow and tumbled over and +over. The whole external scene blurred to him, and only after a moment +was he able to bring the torpoon back to an even keel. + +He saw what had happened. While he had been sighting on the second +seal-creature, the third had attacked the torpoon from the rear by +striking it with all the strength of its heavy, muscular body. But it +did not follow up its attack. For it had crashed in to the whirling +propeller, and now it was hanging well back, its head horribly gashed +by the steel blades. + +For a moment the three combatants hung still, both sealmen staring at +the torpoon as if in wonder that it could strike both with its bow and +stern, and Ken Torrance rapidly glancing over the situation. The +remaining two of the last group of three men, he saw, had reached the +top, and the foremost of the _Peary's_ crew were within several feet +of the new hole in the ice. In a very short time all would be out and +safe. Until then he had to hold off the two sealmen. + +Two? There were no longer only two, but five--ten--a dozen--and more. +The dead were coming to life! + +Here and there in the various levels of drifting, motionless brown +bodies that he thought the explosion had killed, one was stirring, +awakening! The explosion had but stunned many or most of them, _and +now they were returning to consciousness_! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +_The Duel_ + + +Upon seeing this, all hope for life left Ken. He had only six shells +left, and at best he could kill only six sealmen. Already, there were +more than twenty about him, completely encircling the torpoon. They +seemed afraid of it, and yet desirous of finishing it--they hung back, +watching warily the thing that could strike and hurt from either end; +but Ken knew, of course, that he could not count on their inaction +long. One concerted charge would mean his quick end, and the death of +most of the men above. + +Well, there was only one thing to do--try to hold them off until those +men above had climbed out, every one. + +With this plan in mind, he maneuvered for a commanding position. +Quietly he slid his motor into gear, and slowly the torpoon rose. At +this first movement, the wall of hesitating brown bodies broke back a +little. It quickly pressed in again, however, as the torpoon came to a +halt where Ken wanted it--a position thirty feet beneath, and slightly +to one side, of the escaping men above, with an angle of fire +commanding the area the sealmen would have to cross to attack them. + +Almost at once came action. One of the surrounding creatures swerved +suddenly up toward the men. Instinctively angling the torp, Ken sent a +nitro-shell at it; and the chance aim was good. The projectile caught +the sealman squarely, and, after the convulsion, it began to drift +downward, its body torn apart. + +"That'll teach you, damn you!" Ken muttered savagely, and, to heighten +the effect he had created, he brought his sights to bear on another +sealman in the circle around him--and fired and killed. + +This sight of sudden death told on the others. They grew obviously +more fearful and gave back, though still forming a solid circle around +the torpoon. The circle was ever thickening and deepening downward as +more of those that the explosion had rendered unconscious returned to +life. + +And then, above, the first man reached the hole, clawed at its rough +edges and levered himself through. + +That was a signal. From somewhere beneath, two brown bodies flashed +upward in attack. Fearing a general rush at any second, Ken fired +twice swiftly. One shell missed, but the other slid to its mark. +Almost alongside its fellow, one of the creatures was shattered and +torn, and that evidently altered the other's intentions, for it +abandoned the attack and sought safety in the mass of its fellows on +the farther side. + +Another respite. Another man through the hole. And but two +nitro-shells left! + + * * * * * + +The deadly circle, like wolves around a lone trapper who crouches +close to his dying fire, pressed in a little; and by their ominous +quietness, by the sight of their eyes all turned in on him, their +concerted inching closer, Ken sensed the nearness of the charge that +would finish him. All this in deep silence, there in the gloomy +quarter-light. He could not yell and brandish his fists at them as the +trapper by the fire might have done to win a few extra minutes. The +only cards he had to play were two shells--and one was needed now! + +He fired it with deliberate, sure aim, and grunted as he saw its +victim convulse and die, with dark blood streaming. Again the swarm +hesitated. + +Ken risked a glance above. Only three men left, he saw; and one was +pulled through the hole as he watched. Below, in one place, several +seal-creatures surged upward. + +"Get back, damn you!" he cursed harshly. "All right--take it! That's +the last!" + +And the last shell hissed out from the gun even as the last man, +above, was pulled through up into the air and safety. + +Ken felt that he had given half his life with that final shell. +Completely surrounded by a hundred or more of the sealmen, he could +not possibly hope to maneuver the torpoon up to the hole in the ice +and leave it, without being overwhelmed. He had held off the swarm +long enough for the others to escape, but for himself it was the end. + +So he thought, and wondered just when that end would come. Soon, he +knew. It would not take them long to overcome their fear when they saw +that he no longer reached out and struck them down in sudden bloody +death. Now it was their turn. + +"Anyway," the torpooner murmured, "I got 'em out. I saved them." + +But had he? Suddenly his mind turned up a dreadful thought. He had +saved them from the sealmen, but they were up on the ice without food. +There had been no time to apportion rations in the submarine; all the +supplies were stacked around him in the torpoon! + +Searching planes would eventually appear overhead, but if he could not +get the food up to the men it meant their death as surely as if they +had stayed locked in the _Peary_! + +But how could he do it without shells, and with that living wall +edging inch by inch upon him, visibly on the brink of rushing him. +Some carried ropes with which they would lash the torpoon down as they +had the others. Must all he and those men had gone through, be in +vain? Must he die--and the others? For certainly without food, those +men above on the lonely ice fields, all of them weakened by the long +siege in the submarine, would perish quickly.... + +And then a faintly possible plan came to him. It involved an attempt +to bluff the seal-creatures. + + * * * * * + +Thirty feet above the lone man in the torpoon was the hole he had +blasted in the ice. He knew that from the cone of light which filtered +down; he did not dare to take his eyes for a second from the creatures +around him, for all now depended on his judging to a fraction just +when the lithe, living wall would leap to overwhelm him. + +Now the torpoon was enclosed by what was more a sphere of brown bodies +than a circle. But it was not a solid sphere. It stretched thinly to +within a few feet of the ice ceiling where, in one place, was the hole +Ken had blown in the ice. + +He began to play the game. He edged the gears into reverse, gently +angled the diving-planes, and slowly the torpoon tilted in response +and began to sink back to the dark sea-floor. + +Motion appeared in the curved facade of sleek brown heads and bodies +in front and to the sides. The creatures behind and below, Ken could +not see; he could only trust to the fear inspired by the damage his +propeller had wreaked on one of them, to hold them back. However, he +could judge the movements of those behind and below by the +synchronized movements of those in front; for the sealmen, in this +tense siege, seemed to move as one--just as they would move as one +when a leader got the courage to charge across the gap to the torpoon. + +In reverse, slowly, the torpoon backed downward. Every minute seemed a +separate eternity of time, for Ken dared not move fast at this +juncture, and he needed to retreat not less than fifty feet. + +Fifty feet! Would they hold off long enough for him to make it? + +Foot by foot the torpoon edged down at her forty-five-degree angle, +and with every foot the watching bodies became visibly bolder. There +was no light inside the torpoon--inner light would decrease the +visibility outside--but Ken knew her controls as does the musician his +instrument. Slowly the propeller whirled over, the torpoon dropped, +slowly the diffused light from the hole above diminished--and slowly +the eager wall of sealmen followed and crept in. + +Twenty-five feet down; and then, after a long time, thirty-five feet, +and forty. Seventy feet up, in all, to the hole in the ice.... + +Ken wanted seventy-five feet, but he could not have it. For the wall +of sleek bodies broke. One or two of the creatures surged forward; +other followed; they were coming! + +The slim torpoon leaped under the unleashed power of her +motors--forward. + + * * * * * + +For one awful moment Ken thought he was finished. The vision of the +hole was obscured by a twisting, whirling maelstrom of bodies, and the +torpoon quivered and shook like a living thing in agony under glancing +blows. + +But then came a patch of light, a pathway of light, leading straight +up at a forty-five-degree angle to the hole in the ice above. + +Sealmen and torpoon had leaped forward at the same moment. Doubtless +the creatures had not expected the shell to move so suddenly and +decisively ahead, so that when it did, those in the van swerved to +escape head-on contact. + +The torpoon gained speed all too slowly for her pilot. It naturally +took time to gain full forward speed from a standing start. But she +moved, and she moved fast, and after her poured the full tide of +sealmen, now that they saw their prey running in retreat. + +From somewhere ahead appeared a rope, noosed to catch the fleeing +prey. It slipped off the side. Another touched the bow, but it too was +thrown off. The torpoon's forward momentum was now great; she was +sweeping up at the full speed Ken had gone back to be able to attain. +He needed full speed! The plan would fail at the last moment without +it! + +Another rope; but it was the seal-creature's last gesture. Through the +side plates of quarsteel the light grew fast; the ice was only ten +feet away; a slight directional correction brought the hole dead +ahead--and at full speed, twenty-four miles an hour, the torpoon +passed through and into the thin air of the world of light and life. + +Right out of the hole, a desperate fugitive from below, she leaped, +her propeller suddenly screaming, and arched high through the air +before she dove with a rending, splintering crash onto the upper side +of the sheet ice. + +And the sun of a cloudless, perfect Arctic day beat down on her; and +men were all around, eagerly reaching to open her entrance port. It +was done. + + * * * * * + +Kenneth Torrance, dazed, battered, hurting in every joint but +conscious, found the torpoon's port open, and felt hands reach in and +clasp him. Wearily he helped them lift him out into the thin sunlight. +Sitting down, slitting his eyes against the sudden glare, he peered +around. + +Captain Sallorsen was beside him, supporting him with one hand and +pounding him on the back with the other; and there in front was the +bearded scientist, Lawson, and the rest of the men. + +Ken took a great gulp of the clean, cold air. + +"Gosh!" was all he could say. "Gosh, that tastes good!" + +"Man, you did it!" shouted Sallorsen. "How, in God's name, I don't +know--but you did it!" + +"He did!" said Lawson. "And he did it all himself. Even to the food, +which should keep us till a plane comes by. If they haven't stopped +searching for us." + +His words reminded Ken of something. + +"Oh, there'll be a plane over," he said. "Forgot to tell you, but I +stole this torpoon--see?--and told the fellows they could come and get +it somewhere right around here." + +Kenneth Torrance grinned, and glanced down at the battered steel shell +which had borne him out of the water below. + +"And here it is," he finished. "A little damaged--but then I didn't +promise it would be as good as new!" + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Under Arctic Ice, by H.G. 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Winter + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { width: 60%; padding: 1em; text-align: left; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + +.tocch { text-align: right; vertical-align: top;} + +.tocpg {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} + +.img1 {border:solid 1px; } + +.f1 {font-size:xx-large; font-weight:bolder; } + +a[name] { position: static; } +a:link { border:none; color:#0000ff; text-decoration:none; } +a:visited {color:#0000ff; text-decoration:none; } +a:hover { color:#ff0000; } + +.blockquote { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-right: 0.5em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + + + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Under Arctic Ice, by H.G. Winter + +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: Under Arctic Ice + +Author: H.G. Winter + +Release Date: July 21, 2009 [EBook #29475] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDER ARCTIC ICE *** + + + + +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 January 1933. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p> +<p class="center">The Table of Contents is not part of the original magazine.</p></div> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img class="img1" src="images/image_001.jpg" width="500" height="509" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<h4>A Sequel to "Seed of the Arctic Ice"</h4> +<p> </p> +<h1>Under Arctic Ice</h1> + +<h4><i>A Complete Novelette</i></h4> +<p> </p> +<h2>By H.G. Winter</h2> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="Contents"> +<tr> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + <td> </td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">I</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_I">An Empty Room</a></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">II</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_II">The Crash</a></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">III</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_III">The Fate of the Peary</a></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">IV</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">"No Chance Left"</a></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">V</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_V">The Last Assault</a></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">VI</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">In a Biscuit Can</a></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">VII</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">The Awakening</a></td> + </tr> +<tr> + <td class="tocch">VIII</td> + <td> </td> + <td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">The Duel</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> + +<h2><i>An Empty Room</i></h2> + + +<p><span class="f1">T</span>he house where the long trail started was one of gray walls, gray +rooms and gray corridors, with carpets that muffled the feet which at +intervals passed along them. It was a house of silence, brooding +within the high fence that shut it and the grounds from a landscape +torpid under the hot sun of summer, and across which occasionally +drifted the lonely, mournful whistle of a train on a nearby railroad. +Inside the house there was always a hush, a heavy quiet—restful to +the brain.</p> + +<div class="sidenote">Ken Torrance races Poleward to the aid of the submarine +<i>Peary</i>, trapped in an icy limbo of avenging sealmen.</div> + +<p>But now a voice was raised, young, angry, impatient, in one of the +gray-walled rooms.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I rang for you. I want my bags packed. I'm leaving this +minute!"</p> + +<p>The face of the man who had entered showed surprise.</p> + +<p>"Leaving, Mr. Torrance? Why?"</p> + +<p>"Read this!"</p> + +<p>As if, knowing and therefore dreading what he would see, the attendant +took the newspaper held outstretched to him and followed the pointing +finger to a featured column. He scanned it:</p> + +<blockquote><p class="center"><b>Deadline Passed for Missing Submarine</b></p> + +<p>Point Barrow, Aug. 17 (AP): Planes sent out to search for +the missing polar submarine <i>Peary</i> have returned without +clue to the mystery of is disappearance. The close search +that has been conducted through the last two weeks, +involving great risks to the pilots, has been fruitless, and +authorities now hold out small hope for Captain Sallorsen, +his crew and the several scientists who accompanied the +daring expedition.</p> + +<p>If the <i>Peary</i>, as is generally thought, is trapped beneath +the ice floes or embedded in the deep silt of the polar +sea-floor, her margin of safety has passed the deadline, it +was pointed out to-day by her designers. Through special +rectifiers aboard, her store of air can be kept capable of +sustaining life for a theoretical period of thirty-one days. +And exactly thirty-one days have now elapsed since last the +<i>Peary's</i> radio was heard from a position 72° 47' N, 162° +22' W, some twelve hundred miles from the North Pole itself.</p> + +<p>In official circles, hope was practically abandoned for the +missing submarine, though attempts will continue to be made +to locate her.... </p></blockquote> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Mr. Torrance," said the attendant nervously. "This paper +should—"</p> + +<div> +<img class="figleft" src="images/image_002_01.jpg" width="243" height="422" alt="" /> +<img class="figleft" src="images/image_002_02.jpg" width="500" height="415" alt="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Should never have reached me, eh? Through some slip of the people who +censor my reading matter here, I read what I wasn't supposed +to—that's what you mean?"</p> + +<p>"It was thought better, Mr. Torrance, by the doctors, and—"</p> + +<p>"Good God! Thought better! Through their sagacity, these doctors have +probably condemned the men on this submarine to death! I haven't heard +a word about the expedition; didn't even know the <i>Peary</i> was up +there, much less missing!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Mr. Torrance," the attendant stammered, more and more +unsettled, "the doctors thought that—that any news about it +would—well, upset you."</p> + +<p>The young man laughed bitterly;</p> + +<p>"Bring on my old 'trouble,' I suppose. The doctors have been +considerate, but I won't concern them any more. I'm through. I'm +leaving for the north—right now. There's a bare chance I might still +be in time."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Mr. Torrance, but you can't."</p> + +<p>"Can't?"</p> + +<p>The attendant had retreated to the door. His eyes were nervous, his +face pale.</p> + +<p>"It's orders, Mr. Torrance. You've been under observation treatment, +and the doctors left strict orders that you must stay."</p> + +<p>The young man throbbed with dangerous anger. His hands clenched and +unclenched. He burst out, in a last attempt at reason:</p> + +<p>"But don't you see, I've <i>got</i> to get to the <i>Peary</i>! It's the last +hope for those men! The position she was last heard from is right +where I—"</p> + +<p>"You can't leave, Mr. Torrance! I'm sorry, but I'll have to call a +guard!"</p> + +<p>For a minute their eyes held. With an effort, the young man said more +calmly:</p> + +<p>"I see. I see. I'm a prisoner. All right, leave me."</p> + +<p>The attendant was more than willing. The young man heard the door's +lock click. And then he lowered his head and pressed his hands hard +into his face.</p> + +<p>But a second later he was looking up again, at the single wide window +which gave out on the lonely landscape over which sometimes came +drifting the distant cry of a train's whistle.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">T</span>wo months before, Kenneth Torrance had returned to the whaling +submarine <i>Narwhal</i>, of which he was first torpooner, with a confused +story of men who were half-seals that lived in mounds under the Arctic +ice,<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> who had captured him and—he found—had also captured the +second torpooner, Chanley Beddoes. In breaking free from their +mound-prison, Beddoes had killed one of the sealmen and had been +himself slain minutes later by a killer whale, one of the fierce +scavengers of the sea which the sealmen trapped for food even as the +<i>Narwhal</i> sought them for oil. Ken Torrance alone came back.</p> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> See the February, 1932, issue of Astounding Stories.</p></div> + +<p>Over their doubts, he had stuck to his story. Later, he had repeated +it to officials of the Alaska Whaling Company, who worked the +submarine and several surface ships. They in return had sent him to a +private sanitarium in the State of Washington for a rest which they +hoped would "iron out the kink" in his brain.</p> + +<p>Here Ken had been for six weeks, while the exploring submarine <i>Peary</i> +nosed her way northward toward the Pole. Here he had been, all +unknowing, while the world hummed with reports of the <i>Peary's</i> +disappearance in that far-off ever-shrouded sea of mystery.</p> + +<p>She might, Ken knew, have struck a shaft of underwater ice, sending +her to the bottom; some of her machinery might have cracked up, +paralyzing her; the ice-fields under which she cruised might have +shifted suddenly, crushing her ribs—of these perils the world knew as +well as he. But the submarine's crew was prepared for them; the +<i>Peary</i> was equipped with a circular saw for cutting up through the +ice from beneath, and she carried sea-suits which would allow her men, +if she were wrecked on the bottom, to leave her and get up on the ice +and wait for the first searching plane.</p> + +<p>Why, then, had not the planes which scoured the region found the +survivors?</p> + +<p>That was the mystery—but not to Ken Torrance. There was another +peril, of which he alone knew. Not far from where the <i>Peary's</i> last +radio report had come, a group of hollowed-out mounds lay on the +sea-floor, swarming with brown-skinned, quick-swimming creatures. +Sealmen, they were—men who, like the seals, had gone back to the sea. +Months ago, Second Torpooner Chanley Beddoes had killed one of them. +They were intelligent; they could remember; they were capable of hate +and fear; they would be desirous of leveling the debt!</p> + +<p>There, Ken felt sure, lay the reason for the <i>Peary's</i> baffling +silence, for the non-appearance of her men.</p> + +<p>There might still be time. No one of course would listen to him and +believe, so he would have to go in search of the <i>Peary</i> and her crew +himself.</p> + +<p>Standing by the window, Kenneth Torrance quickly planned the several +steps which would take him to the Arctic and its silent ice-coated +sea.</p> + +<p>And when, some two hours later, after a short warning rap on the door, +the individual who served as Mr. Torrance's attendant entered his +room, he was confronted, not by the gentleman whose dinner he carried, +but by an empty room, a stripped bed, an open window, and a rope of +sheets dangling from it toward the ground two stories beneath.</p> + +<p>That was at seven o'clock in the evening.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> + +<h2><i>The Crash</i></h2> + + +<p><span class="f1">A</span>t a few minutes before eight o'clock, Air Mail Pilot Steve Chapman +was enjoying a quiet cigarette while waiting for the mechanics to warm +up the five hundred horses of his mail plane satisfactorily. Halfway +through, he heard, from behind, a quick patter of feet, and, turning, +he observed a figure clad in flannel trousers and sweater. The +cigarette dropped right out of his mouth as he cried:</p> + +<p>"Ken! Ken Torrance!"</p> + +<p>"Thank God you're here!" said Kenneth Torrance. "I gambled on it. +Steve, I've got to borrow your own personal plane."</p> + +<p>"What?" gasped Steve Chapman. "What—what—?"</p> + +<p>"Listen, Steve. I haven't been with the whaling company lately; been +resting, down here—secluded. Didn't know that submarine, the <i>Peary</i>, +was missing. I just learned. And I know damned well what's happened to +it. I've got to get to it, quick is I can, and I've got to have a +plane."</p> + +<p>Steve Chapman said rather faintly:</p> + +<p>"But—where was the <i>Peary</i> when they last heard from her?"</p> + +<p>"Some twelve hundred miles from the Pole."</p> + +<p>"And you want to get there in a plane? From here?"</p> + +<p>"Must!"</p> + +<p>"Boy, you stand about one chance in twenty!"</p> + +<p>"Have to take it. Time's precious, Steve. I've got to stop in at the +Alaska Whaling Company's outpost at Point Christensen, then right on +up. I can't even begin unless I have a plane. You've got to help me on +my one chance of bringing the <i>Peary's</i> men out alive! You'll probably +never see the plane again, Steve, but—"</p> + +<p>"To hell with the plane, if you come through with yourself and those +men," said the pilot. "All right, kid, I don't get it all, but I'm +playing with you. You're taking my own ship."</p> + +<p>He led Ken to a hangar wherein stood a trim five-passenger amphibian; +and very soon that amphibian was roaring out her deep-throated song of +power on the line, itching for the air, and Steve Chapman was shouting +a few last words up to the muffled figure in the enclosed control +cockpit.</p> + +<p>"Fuel'll last around forty hours," he finished. "You'll find two +hundred per, easy, and twenty-five hours should take you clear to +Point Christensen. I put gun and maps in the right pocket; food in +that flap behind you. Go to it, Ken!"</p> + +<p>Ken Torrance gripped the hand outstretched to his and held it tight. +He could say nothing, could only nod—this was a real friend. He gave +the ship the gun.</p> + +<p>Her mighty Diesel bellowed, lashed the air down and under; the +amphibian spun her retractable wheels over the straight hard ground +until they lifted lightly and tilted upward in a slow climb for +altitude. With fiery streams from the exhaust lashing her flanks, she +faded into the darkness to the north.</p> + +<p>"Well," murmured Steve Chapman, "I've got her instalments left, +anyway!" And he grinned and turned to the mail.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">T</span>hat night passed slowly by; and the next day; and all through night +and day the steady roar of beating cylinders hung in Kenneth +Torrance's ears. At last came Point Christensen and a descent; sleep +and then quick, decisive action; and again the amphibian rose, heavily +loaded now, and droned on toward the ice and the cold bleak skies of +the far north. On, ever on, until Point Barrow, Alaska's northernmost +spur, was left behind to the east, and the world was one of drifting +ice on gray water. Muscles cramped, mind dulled by the everlasting +roar, head aching and weary, Ken held the amphibian to her steady +course, until a sudden wind shook her momentarily from it.</p> + +<p>A rising wind. The skies were ugly. And then he remembered that the +men at Point Christensen had warned him of a storm that was brewing. +They'd told him that he was heading into disaster; and their +surprised, rather fearful faces appeared before him again, as he had +seen them just before taking off, after he had told them where he was +going.</p> + +<p>Of course they'd thought him crazy. He had brought the amphibian down +in the little harbor off the whaling company's base, gone ashore and +greeted his old friends. There was only a handful of men stationed +there; the <i>Narwhal</i> was being overhauled in a shipyard at San +Francisco, and it wasn't the season for surface whalers. They knew +that he, Ken, had been put in a sanitarium; all of them had heard his +wild story about sealmen. But he concocted a plausible yarn to account +for his arrival, and they had fed him and given him a berth in the +bunkhouse for the night.</p> + +<p>For the night! Ken Torrance grinned as he recalled the scene. In the +middle of the night he had risen, quickly awakened four of the +sleeping men, and with his gun forced them to take a torpoon from the +outpost's storehouse and put it inside the amphibian's passenger +compartment.</p> + +<p>It was robbery, and of course they'd thought him insane, but they +didn't dare cross him. He had told them cheerfully he was going after +the <i>Peary</i>, and that if they wanted the torpoon back they were to +direct the searching planes to keep their eyes on the place where the +submarine was last heard from....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">K</span>en came back to the present abruptly as the plane lurched. The wind +was getting nasty. At least he did not have much farther to go; an +hour's flying time would take him to his goal, where he must descend +into the water to continue his search. His search! Had it been, he +wondered, a useless one from the start? Had the submarine's crew been +killed before he'd even read of her disappearance? If the sealmen got +them, would they destroy them immediately?</p> + +<p>"I doubt it," Ken muttered to himself. "They'd be kept prisoners in +one of those mounds, like I was. That is, if they haven't killed any +of the creatures. It hangs on that!"</p> + +<p>An hour's time, he had reckoned; but it was more than an hour. For +soon the world was blotted out by a howling dervish of wind and driven +snow that time and time again snatched the amphibian from Ken's +control and hurled it high, or threw it down like a toy toward the +inferno of sea and ice he knew lay beneath. He fought for altitude, +for direction, pitched from side to side, tumbled forward and back, +gaining a few hundred feet only to feel them plucked breathtakingly +out from under him as the screaming wind played with him.</p> + +<p>Now and again he snatched a glance at the torpoon behind. The +gleaming, twelve-foot, cigar-shaped craft, with its directional +rudders, propeller, vision-plate and nitro-shell gun lay safely +secured in the passenger compartment, a familiar and reassuring sight +to Ken, who, as first torpooner of the <i>Narwhal</i>, had worked one for +years in the chase for killer whales. Soon, it seemed, he would have +to depend on it for his life.</p> + +<p>For all the Diesel's power, it was not enough to cope with the dead +weight of ice which was forming over the plane's wings and fuselage. +He could not keep the altimeter up. However he fought, Ken saw that +finger drop down, down—up a trifle, quivering as the racked plane +quivered—and then down and down some more.</p> + +<p>He saw that the plane was doomed. He would have to abandon it—in the +torpoon—if he could.</p> + +<p>He was some thirty miles from his objective. The sea beneath would be +half hidden under ragged, drifting floes. In fair weather he could +have chosen a landing space of clear water, but now he could not +choose. The altitude dial said that the water was three hundred feet +beneath, and rapidly rising nearer.</p> + +<p>A margin of seconds in which to prepare! Ken locked the controls and +scrambled back into the passenger compartment. Steadying himself on +the bucking floor, he opened the torpoon's entrance port and slid in; +quickly he locked the port and strapped the inner body harness around +him; and then he waited.</p> + +<p>Now it was all chance. If the plane crashed into clear water, he was +safe; but if she hit ice.... He put that thought from him.</p> + +<p>The locked controls held the amphibian for perhaps thirty seconds. +Then with a scream the storm-giant took her. A mad up-current of wind +hurled her high, whirled her dizzily, toyed with her—and then she +spun and dove. Down, down, down; down with a speed so wild Ken grew +faint; down through the core of a maelstrom of snow till she crashed.</p> + +<p>Kenneth Torrance knew a sudden shaking impact; for an instant there +was uncertainty; and then came all-pervading quiet....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h2><i>The Fate of the Peary</i></h2> + + +<p><span class="f1">Q</span>uiet, and utter, liquid darkness.</p> + +<p>Liquid! Around him, Ken heard a gurgling, at first loud and close, +then subsiding to a low whispering of currents. The amphibian had hit +water.</p> + +<p>Gone in an instant was the shriek and fury of the storm and in its +place the calm, slow-heaving silence of underwater. The plane was +shattered in a dozen places, but the torpoon had easily stood it.</p> + +<p>Ken turned to action. He switched on the torpoon's dashboard lights +and twin bow-beams, and saw that the shell was wedged in the fuselage. +The plane was apparently entirely under the surface, and her interior +filled with water.</p> + +<p>Holding the propeller in neutral, he revved up the powerful electric +motor. Then he bit the propeller in, slowly. The torpoon nudged back +for inches. Then, throwing the gear into forward, Ken gave her full +speed. The torpoon leaped ahead, crunched through the weakened corner +ahead and was free.</p> + +<p>It was a world of drab tones that she came into. Down below was +impenetrable blackness, shading softly overhead into blue-gray which +was mottled by lighter areas from breaks in the floes above. All was +calm. There was no sign of life save for an occasional vague shadow +that, melting swiftly away, might have been a fish or seaweed. Placid +always, would be this shrouded sea of mystery, no matter what furious +tempest raged above over the flat leagues of ice and water.</p> + +<p>But the seeming peacefulness was but a mask for danger. Kenneth +Torrance's face was set in sober lines as he sped the slim torpoon +northward, her bow lights shafting long white fingers before her. For +now there was only one path—and that lay ahead. He could not turn +back. Storm and water had destroyed the plane that could take him back +to land. He could not possibly reach any outpost of civilization in +the torpoon, for her cruising radius was only twenty hours. He had +planned to land the amphibian on the ice above the spot where the +<i>Peary</i> had disappeared, then find a break in the ice and slide down +below in the torpoon on his quest—to return to the plane if it proved +fruitless. But now there was no retreat. It was succeed, or die.</p> + +<p>And with that realization a more dreadful thought flashed into his +mind. All those men, of the whaling company and the sanitarium, +thought him a little crazy. And, since lunatics are always convinced +of the reality of their visions, what if the sealmen—his adventure +amidst them—had been but a dream, a nightmare, an hallucination? What +if he were in truth crazy? The fear grew rapidly. What if he were? +God! He, hunting for the <i>Peary</i>, when all those planes and men had +failed! He, expecting to achieve what those searchers, with far +greater resources, had not been able to! Did not that give evidence +that his mind was twisted? Creatures, half-seal, half-men, living +under the ice—it certainly seemed a lunatic's obsession.</p> + +<p>Then something within him rose and fought back.</p> + +<p>"No!" he cried aloud. "I'll go bugs if I think like that! Those +sealmen were real—and I know where they are. I'm going on!"</p> + +<p>And, an hour later, the dashboard's shaded dials told him he was on +the exact spot where the <i>Peary</i> had last reported....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">H</span>ere was the real Arctic, the real polar sea. No sun, no breath of the +world above could reach it through its eternal mask of solid ice. As +one of the few unfamiliar aspects of the earth, it was as far removed +from the imagination of man as if it were part of a far planet hung +spinning millions of miles out in space. Men could reach it in shells +of metal, but it was not meant for him, and was always hostile. A +dozen times a daring one could cross safely its cold lonely reaches, +but the thirteenth time it would snare and destroy him for the +unwanted trespasser he was.</p> + +<p>It was here that the <i>Peary</i> had stepped off into mystery. At this +point her hull had throbbed with air, movement, life; at this point +all had been well. And then, minutes or hours later, close to here, +the sea devil had sprung.</p> + +<p>What had happened? What had trapped her? What, even more baffling, had +kept her men with their manifold safety devices from even reaching and +climbing up on the ice above to signal the searching planes?</p> + +<p>Ken Torrance, oppressively alone in the hovering torpoon, gazed +through its vision-plate of fused quartz around him. Gray sea, +filtering to black beneath; distant eerie shadows, probably meaning +nothing, but possibly all important; ceiling of thick ice above, rough +and in places broken by a sharp down-thrusting spur—these were his +surroundings. These were what he must hunt through, until he came upon +the crumpled remnant of a submarine, or the murky, rounded hillocks +which gave habitation to the creatures he suspected of capturing that +submarine's crew.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">H</span>e began the search systematically. He angled the torpoon down to a +position halfway between sea-floor and ice-ceiling, then swung her in +an ever-widening circle. Soon his orbit had a diameter of a half-mile; +then a mile; then two.</p> + +<p>The torpoon slipped through the water at full speed, her light-beams +like restless antennae, now stabbing to the right to dissolve a +formless shadow, now to the left to throw into blinding white relief a +school of half-transparent fish which scurried with frantic wrigglings +of tails from the glare, now slanting up to bathe the cold glassy face +of an inverted ice-hill, now down to dig two white holes in the deeper +gloom.</p> + +<p>Ken continued this routine for hours. Steadily and low the electric +motor droned in the ears of the watchful pilot, and the stubby +propeller's blades flashed round in a blur of speed between the +slightly slanted rudders. Somewhere, miles away, a splintered +amphibian plane was slipping down to her last landing, and above, +perhaps, the white hell of storm which had brought her low still +bowled over the trackless wastes; but here were only shadows and +shifting gloom, straining the alert eyes to soreness and tensing the +watcher's brain with alarms that, one after another, were only false.</p> + +<p>Until at last he found her.</p> + +<p>Immediately he shut off all his lights. He no longer needed them. Far +in the distance, and below, wavered a faint yellow glow. It was no +fish; it could mean only one thing—the lights of a submarine.</p> + +<p>And lights meant life! There would be none burning in a deserted +submarine. His heart beat fast and his tight, sober lips widened in a +quick grin. He had found the <i>Peary</i>! And found her with some life +still aboard her! He was in time!</p> + +<p>So Ken rejoiced while he slid the torpoon down to a level just a few +feet above the silty sea bottom, reducing her to quarter-speed. There +was an urge inside him to switch on his bow-beams, reach them out +toward the submarine's hull to tell all within that help was at last +at hand; he wanted to send the torpoon ahead at full speed. But +caution restrained him to a more deliberate course. He was in the +realm of the sealmen, and he did not wish to attract the attention of +any. So he advanced like a furtive shadow slinking along the dark +sea-bottom, deep in the covering gloom.</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer, while the distant blur of yellow light grew. Nearer +and nearer to the long-trapped men, while the consciousness that he +had succeeded intoxicated him. He alone had found them! Sealmen or no +sealmen, he had found the <i>Peary</i>! And found her with lights lit and +life inside! Nearer and nearer....</p> + +<p>And then suddenly Ken halted the torpoon and stared with wide, alarmed +eyes. For the submarine was now plainly visible in detail—and he saw +her real plight and with it knew the answer to the mystery of her long +silence and the non-appearance of her men on the ice field above.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">T</span>he <i>Peary</i> was a spectacle of fantastic beauty. It was as if a huge, +rounded piece of amber, mellow, golden, lay in the murk of the +sea-floor. Not steel, hard and grim, but of transparent, shimmering +stuff she was built, all coated a soft yellow by her lights, clearly +visible inside. Ken had known something of her radical construction; +knew that a substance called quarsteel, similar to glass and yet fully +as tough as steel, had been used for her hull, making her a perfect +vehicle for undersea exploration. Her bow was capped with steel, and +her stern, propellers, diving rudders; her port-locks, for the +releasing of torpoons, were also of steel, as were the struts that +braced her throughout—but the rest was quarsteel, glowing and golden +as the heart of amber.</p> + +<p>Beautiful with a wild yet scientific beauty was the <i>Peary</i>, but she +was not free. She was trapped. She was fastened to the mud of the +gloomy sea-floor.</p> + +<p>Ropes held her down; and Ken Torrance knew those ropes of old. They +were tough and strong, woven of many strands of seaweed, and twenty or +thirty of them striped the <i>Peary's</i> two hundred feet of hull. +Unevenly spaced, stretched clear over the ship from one side to the +other, they were caught around her up-jutting conning tower, fastened +through her rudders, and holding tight in a score of places. They held +the submarine down despite all the buoyancy of her emptied tanks and +the power of her twin propellers.</p> + +<p>And the sealmen swam around her.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">R</span>estless dark shadows against the golden hull, they wavered and darted +and poised, totally unafraid. Another in Kenneth Torrance's place +would have put them down as some strange school of large seals, +inordinately curious but nothing more; but the torpooner knew them as +men—men remodeled into the shape of seals; men who, ages ago, had +forsaken the land for the old home of all life, the sea; who, through +the years, had gradually changed in appearance as their flesh had +become coated with layers of cold-resisting blubber; whose movements +had become adapted to the water; whose legs and arms had evolved into +flippers; but whose heads still harbored the now faint spark of +intelligence that marked them definitely as men.</p> + +<p>Emotions similar to man's they had, though dulled; friendliness, +curiosity, anger, hate, and—Ken knew and feared—even a capacity for +vengeance. Vengeance! An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth—the old +law peculiar to man! Chanley Beddoes had slain one of them; if only +the <i>Peary's</i> crew had not killed more! If only that, there might be +hope!</p> + +<p>First he must get inside the submarine. Warily, like a stalking cat, +Ken Torrance inched the torpoon toward the great shining ship. At +least he was in time. Within her he could see figures, most of them +stretched out on the decks of her different compartments, but one of +whom occasionally moved—slowly. He understood that. For weeks now the +<i>Peary</i> had lain captive, and her air had passed beyond the aid of +rectifiers. Tortured, those survivors inside were, constantly +struggling for life, with vitality ever sinking lower. Some might +already be dead. But at least he could try to save the rest.</p> + +<p>He approached her from one side of the rear, for in the rear +compartment were her two torpoon port-locks. The one on his side was +empty, its outer door open. The torpoon it had held had been sent out, +probably for help, and had not returned. It provided a means of +entrance for him.</p> + +<p>At perhaps a hundred feet from the port-lock, Ken halted again. His +slim craft was almost indistinguishable in the murk: he felt +reasonably safe from discovery. For minutes he watched the swimming +sealmen, waiting for the best chance to dart in.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">I</span>t was then, while studying the full length of the submarine more +closely, that he saw that one compartment of her four was filled with +water. Her steel-caped bow had been stove in. That, he conjectured, +had been the original accident which had brought her down. It was not +a fatal accident in itself, for there were three other compartments, +all separated by watertight bulkheads, and the flooded one could be +repaired by men in sea-suits—but then the sealmen had come and roped +her down where she lay. Some of the creatures, he saw, were actually +at that time inside the bow compartment, swimming around curiously +amidst the clustered pipes, wheels and levers. It was a weird sight, +and one that held his eyes fascinated.</p> + +<p>But suddenly, through his absorption, danger prickled the short hairs +of his neck. A lithe, sinuous shadow close ahead was wavering, and +large, placid brown eyes were staring at him. A sealman! He was +discovered! And instinctively, immediately, Ken Torrence brought the +torpoon's accelerator down flat.</p> + +<p>The shell jumped ahead with whirling propeller. The creature that had +seen him doubled around and sped in retreat. In brief snatches, as the +torpoon streaked across the hundred-foot gap to the empty port-lock, +Ken glimpsed his discoverer gathering a group of its fellows, and saw +brown-skinned bodies swarm after him with nooses of seaweed-rope—and +then the great transparent side wall of the <i>Peary</i> was before him, +and the port-locks dark opening. Ken threw his motor into reverse, +slid the torpoon slightly to one side, and there was a jerk, a jar, +and a sensation of something moving behind.</p> + +<p>He turned to see the port-lock's outer door closing, activated by +controls inside the submarine—and just in time to shut out the first +of his pursuers. Then the port-lock's pumps were draining the water +from the chamber, and the inner door clicked and opened.</p> + +<p>Kenneth Torrance climbed stiffly from the torpoon to enter the +interior of the long-lost and besieged exploring submarine <i>Peary.</i></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> + +<h2>"<i>No Chance Left</i>"</h2> + + +<p><span class="f1">H</span>is entrance was an unpleasant experience. He had forgotten the +condition of the air inside the submarine, and what its effect on him, +coming straight from comparatively good and fresh air, would be, until +he was seized by a sudden choking grip around his throat. He reeled +and gasped, and was for a minute nauseated. Lights flashed around him, +and teetering backward he leaned weakly, against some metal object +until gradually his head cleared; but his lungs remained tortured, and +his breathing a thing of quick, agonised gulps.</p> + +<p>Then came sounds. Figures appeared before him.</p> + +<p>"From where—" "Who are you?"</p> + +<p>"What—what—what—" "How did you?"</p> + +<p>The half-coherent questions were couched in whispers. The men around +him were blear-eyed and haggard-faced, their skins dry and bluish, and +not a one was clad in more than undershirt and trousers. Alive and +breathing, they were—but breathing grotesquely, horribly. They made +awful noises at it; they panted, in quick, shallow sucks. Some lay on +the deck at his feet, outstretched without energy enough to attempt to +rise.</p> + +<p>Beautiful and slumber-like the submarine had appeared from outside, +but inside that effect was lost. There were the usual appurtenances: a +maze of pipes, wheels, machinery, all silent now, and cold; here were +the two port-locks for torpoons; the emergency steering controls; the +small staterooms of the <i>Peary's</i> officers. Looking forward, still +striving for complete clear-headedness and normality, Ken could see +the two intact forward compartments, silent and apparently lifeless, +with dim lamps burning. They ended with the watertight bulkhead which +stood between them and the flooded bow compartment.</p> + +<p>Ken at last found words, but even his short query cost a sickening +effort.</p> + +<p>"Where's—the commander?" he asked.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">A</span> man turned from where he had been leaning against a nearby wheel +control. He was stripped to the waist. His tall body was stooped, and +the skin of his ruggedly cut face drawn and parchment-like. His face +had once been dignified and authoritative, but now it was that of a +man who nears death after a long, bitter fight for life. The smile +which he gave to Ken was painful—a mockery.</p> + +<p>"I am," he said faintly. "Sallorsen. Just wait, please. A minute. I +worked port-lock. Breath's gone...."</p> + +<p>He sucked shallowly for air and let his smile go. And standing there, +beside him, gazing at the worn frame, Ken felt strength come back. He +had just entered; this man and the others had been here for weeks!</p> + +<p>"I'm Sallorsen," the captain went on at last. All his words were +clipped off, to cost minimum effort. "Glad you got through. Afraid +you're come to prison, though."</p> + +<p>"No!" Ken said emphatically. He spoke to the captain, but what he said +was also for all the others grouped around him. "No, Captain! I'm +Kenneth Torrance. Once torpooner with Alaska Whaling Company. They +thought me crazy—crazy—'cause I told about sealmen. Put me in +sanitarium. I knew they had you—when—heard you were missing." He +pointed at the brown-skinned creatures that clustered close around the +submarine outside her transparent walls. "I got free and came. Just in +time."</p> + +<p>"In time? For what?"</p> + +<p>Another voice gasped out the question. Ken turned to a +broad-shouldered man with a ragged growth of beard that had been a +trim Van Dyke; and before the torpooner could answer, Sallorsen said:</p> + +<p>"Dr. Lawson. One of our scientists. In time for what?"</p> + +<p>"To get you and the submarine free," said Ken.</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">K</span>en paused before replying. He gazed around—out the side walls of +glistening quarsteel into the sea gloom, into the thick of the smooth, +lithe, brown-skinned shapes that now and again poised pressing against +the submarine, peering in with their liquid seal's eyes. Dimly he +could see the taut seaweed ropes stretching down from the top of the +<i>Peary</i> to the sea-bottom. It looked hopeless, and to these men inside +it was hopeless. He knew he must speak in confident, assured tones to +drive away the uncaring lethargy holding them all, and he framed +definite, concise words with which to do it.</p> + +<p>"These creatures have caught you," he began, "and you think they want +to kill you. But look at them. They seem to be seals. They're not. +They're men! Not men like us—half-men—sealmen, rather—changed into +present form by ages of living in the water. I know. I was captured by +them once. They're not senseless brutes; they have a streak of man's +intelligence. We must communicate with that intelligence. Must reason +with them. I did once. I can do it again.</p> + +<p>"They're not really hostile. They're naturally peaceful; friendly. But +my friend—dead now—killed one of them. Naturally they now think all +creatures like us enemies. That's why they trapped your sub.</p> + +<p>"They think you're enemies; think you want to kill them. But I'll tell +them—through pictures, as I did once before—that you mean them no +harm. I'll tell them you're dying and must have air—just as they +must. I'll tell them to release submarine and we'll go away and not +disturb them again. Above all I must get across that you wish them no +harm. They'll listen to what my pictures will say—and let us +go—'cause at heart they're friendly!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">H</span>e paused—and with a ghastly, twisted smile, Captain Sallorsen +whispered:</p> + +<p>"The hell you say!"</p> + +<p>His sardonic comment brought a sudden chill to Kenneth Torrance. He +feared one thing that would render his whole value useless. He asked +quickly:</p> + +<p>"What have you done?"</p> + +<p>"Those seals," Sallorsen's labored voice continued "—they've killed +eight of us. Now they're killing all."</p> + +<p>"But have you killed any of them?" Breathless, Ken waited for the +answer be feared.</p> + +<p>"Yes. Two."</p> + +<p>The men were all staring at Ken, so he had to hide the awful dejection +which clamped his heart. He only said:</p> + +<p>"That's what I feared. It changes everything. No use trying to reason +with them now." He fell silent. "Well," he said at last, trying to +appear more cheerful, "tell me what happened. Maybe there's something +you've overlooked."</p> + +<p>"Yes," Sallorsen whispered. He started to come forward to the +torpooner, but stumbled and would have fallen had not Ken caught him +in time. He put one of the captain's arms around his shoulder, and one +of his own around the man's waist.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," Sallorsen said wryly. "Walk forward. Show you what +happened."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">T</span>here were men in the second compartment, and they still fought to +live. From the narrow seamen's berths that lined the walls came the +sound of breathing even more torturous than that of the men in the +rear. In the single bulb's dim light Ken could see their shapes +stretched motionlessly out, panting and panting. Occasionally hands +reached up to claw at straining necks, as if to try and rid throats of +strangling grasps. Two figures had won free from the long struggle. +They lay silent and still, the outline of their dead bodies showing +through the sheets pulled over them.</p> + +<p>Slowly Sallorsen led Ken through this compartment and into the next, +which was bare of men. Here were the ship's main controls—her helm, +her central multitude of dials, levers and wheels, her televisiscreen +and old-fashioned emergency periscope. A metal labyrinth it was, all +long silent and inactive. Again the weird contrast struck Ken, for +outside he could still see the scene of vigorous, curious life that +the sealmen constituted. Close they came to the submarine's sheer +walls of quarsteel, peering in stolidly, then flashing away with an +effortless thrust of flippers, sometimes for air from some break in +the surface ice.</p> + +<p>Like men, the sealmen needed air to live, and got it fresh and clean +from the world above. Inside, real men were gasping, fighting, +hopelessly, yielding slowly to the invisible death that lay in the +poisonous stuff they had to breathe....</p> + +<p>Ken felt Sallorsen nudge him. They had come to the forward end of the +control compartment, and could go no farther. Before them was the +watertight door, in which was set a large pane of quarsteel. The +captain wanted him to look through.</p> + +<p>Ken did so, knowing what to expect; but even so he was surprised by +the strangeness of the scene. In among the manifold devices of the +front compartment, its wheels and pipes and levers, glided slowly the +sleek, blubbery shapes of half a dozen sealmen. Back and forth they +swam, inspecting everything curiously, unhurried and unafraid; and as +Ken stared one of them came right up to the other side of the closed +watertight door, pressed close to the pane and regarded him with large +placid eyes.</p> + +<p>Other sealmen entered through a jagged rip in the plates on the +starboard side of the bow. At this Sallorsen began to speak again in +the short, clipped sentences, punctuated by quick gasps for air.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">"C</span>rashed, bow-on," he said. "Underwater ice. Outer and inner plates +crumpled like paper. Lost trim and hit bottom. Got this door closed, +but lost four men in bow compartment. Drowned. No chance. Sparks among +'em, at his radio. That's why we couldn't radio for help." He paused, +gasping shallowly.</p> + +<p>"Could've got away if we'd left immediately. One flooded compartment +not enough to hold this ship down. But I didn't know. I sent two men +out in sea-suits—inspect damage. Those devils got them.</p> + +<p>"The seal-things came in a swarm. God! Fast! We didn't realize. They +had ropes, and in seconds they'd lashed us down to the sea-floor. +Lashed us fast!" Again he paused and sucked for the poisoned air, and +Ken Torrance did not try to hurry him, but stood silent, looking +forward to the squashed bow, and out the sides to where he could see +the taut black lines of the seaweed-ropes.</p> + +<p>"The two men put up fight. Had crowbars. Useless—but they killed one +of the devils. That did it. They were torn apart in front of us. +Ripped. Mangled. By spears the things carry. Dead like that."</p> + +<p>"Yes," murmured Ken, "that would do it...."</p> + +<p>"I quick tried to get away," gasped Sallorsen. "Full-speed—back and +forth. No good. Ropes held. Couldn't break. All our power couldn't! So +then—then I acted foolishly. Damn foolish. But we were all a little +crazy. A nightmare, you know. Couldn't believe our eyes—those seals +outside, mocking us. So I called for volunteers. Four men. Put 'em in +sea-suits, gave 'em shears and grappling prongs. They went out.</p> + +<p>"They went out laughing—saying they'd soon have us free! Oh, God!" It +seemed he could not go on, but he forced the words out deliberately. +"Killed without a chance! Ripped apart like the others! No chance! +Suicide!"</p> + +<p>Ken felt the agony in the man, and was silent for a while before +quietly asking:</p> + +<p>"Did they kill any more of the sealmen?"</p> + +<p>"One. Just one. That made two of them—six of us. What the hell are +the rest of them waiting for?" Sallorsen cried. "They killed eight in +all! To our two! That's enough for them, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not," said Ken Torrance. "Well, what then?"</p> + +<p>"Sat down and thought. Carefully. Hit on a plan. Took one of our two +torpoons. Lashed on it steel plates, ground to sharp cutting edges. +Spent days at it. Thought torpoon could go out and cut the ropes. +Haines volunteered and we shot him and torpoon out."</p> + +<p>"They got the torpoon?" Ken asked.</p> + +<p>Sallorsen's arm raised in a pointing gesture. "Look."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">S</span>ome fifty feet away from the <i>Peary</i>, on the side opposite to the one +Ken Torrance had approached, a dimly discernible object lay in the +mud. In miniature, it resembled the submarine: a cigar-shaped steel +shell, held down to the sea-bottom by ropes bound over it. Cutting +edges of steel had been fastened along its length.</p> + +<p>"I see," said Ken slowly. "And its pilot?"</p> + +<p>"Stayed in the torpoon thirty-six hours. Then went crazy. Put on +sea-suit and tried to get back here. Whisk—they got him. Killed and +mangled while we watched!"</p> + +<p>"But didn't his torpoon have a nitro-shell gun? Couldn't he have +fought them off for a time?"</p> + +<p>"Exploring submarine, this! No guns in torpoons like whalers. Gun +wouldn't help, anyway. These devils too fast. No use. No hope +anywhere...." Sallorsen sank back against the bulkhead, his lips +moving but no sound coming forth. Dully he stared ahead, through the +submarine, for a moment before uttering a cackling mockery of a laugh +and going on.</p> + +<p>"Even after that, still hoped! Blew every tank on ship; blew out most +of her oil. Threw out everything not vital. Lightened her as much as +could. Machinery—detachable +metal—fixtures—baggage—instruments—knives, plates, +cups—everything! She rose a couple of feet—no more! Put motors at +full speed—back and forth—again, again, again. Buoyancy—power—no +good. No damn good!</p> + +<p>"And then we tried the last chance. Explosives. Had quite a store, +Nitromite, packed in cases; time-fuses to set it off. Had it for +blasting ice. I sent up a charge and blew hole in the ice overhead, +for our other torpoon.</p> + +<p>"Nothing else left. Knew planes must be nearby, searching. Last +torpoon was to shoot up to the hole—pilot to climb on ice and stay +there to signal a plane."</p> + +<p>"Did he get there?"</p> + +<p>"Hell no!" Sallorsen cackled again. "It was roped like the other. +Pilot tried to get back, but they got him like first. There's the +torpoon—out ahead."</p> + +<p>Ken could just make it out. It lay ahead, slightly to port, lashed +down like its fellow by seaweed-ropes. His eyes were held by it, even +when Sallorsen continued, in an almost hysterical voice:</p> + +<p>"Since then—since then—you know. Week after week. Air getting worse. +Rectifiers running down. No night, no day. Just the lights, and those +damned devils outside. Wore sea-suits for a while; used twenty-nine of +their thirty hours air-units. Old Professor Halloway died, and another +man. Couldn't do anything for 'em. Just sit and watch. Head aching, +throat choking—God!...</p> + +<p>"Some of the men went mad. Tried to break out. Had to show gun. Quick +death outside. Here, slow death, but always the chance that—Chance, +hell! There's no chance left! Just this poison that used to be air, +and those things outside, watching, watching, waiting—waiting for us +to leave—waiting to get us all! Waiting...."</p> + +<p>"Something's up!" said Ken Torrance suddenly. "They've got tired of +waiting!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> + +<h2><i>The Last Assault</i></h2> + + +<p><span class="f1">S</span>allorsen turned his head and followed the torpooner's intent, amazed +gaze.</p> + +<p>Ken said:</p> + +<p>"There's proof of their intelligence! I've been watching—didn't +realize at first. Look, here it comes!"</p> + +<p>Several sealmen, while Sallorsen had been talking, had come dropping +down from the main mass of the horde, and had grouped around the +abandoned torpoon which lay some feet ahead of the submarine's bow. +Expertly they had loosened the seaweed-ropes which bound it to the +sea-floor, then slid back, watching alertly, as if expecting the +torpoon to speed away of its own accord. Its batteries, of course, had +worn out weeks before, so the steel shell did net budge. The sealmen +came down close to it again, and lifted it.</p> + +<p>They lifted it easily with their prehensile flipper-arms, and with +maneuvering of delicate sureness guided it through the gash in the +<i>Peary's</i> bow. Inside, they hesitated with it, midway between deck and +ceiling of the flooded compartment. They poised for perhaps a full +minute, judging the distance, while the two men stared; and then +quickly their powerful tail flippers lashed out and the torpoon jumped +ahead. It sped straight through the water, to crash its tough nose of +steel squarely into the quarsteel pane of the watertight door, then +rebounded, and fell to the deck.</p> + +<p>"My God!" gasped Sallorsen. But Ken wasted no words then. He pressed +closer to the quarsteel and examined it minutely. The substance showed +no visible effect, but the action of the sealmen destroyed whatever +hope he had felt.</p> + +<p>The sealmen had swerved aside at the last minute; and now, picking up +the torpoon again and guiding it back to the other end of the +compartment, they hurled it once more with a resounding crash into the +quarsteel pane.</p> + +<p>"How long will it last under that?" Ken asked tersely.</p> + +<p>Obviously, Sallorsen's wits were muddled at this turn. He remained +gaping at the creatures and at the torpoon, now turned against its +mother submarine. Ken repeated the question.</p> + +<p>"How long? Who knows? It's as strong as steel, but—there's the +pressure—and those blows hit one spot. Not—long."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">C</span>apping his words, there re-echoed again the loud crash of the +torpoon's on the quarsteel. The sealmen were working in quick routine +now; back and quickly forward, and then the crash and the +reverberation; and again and again....</p> + +<p>The ominous crash and ringing echoes regularly repeated, seemed to +disorganise Ken's mind as he looked vainly for something with which to +brace the door. Nothing unattached was left—nothing! He ran and +examined the quarsteel pane again, and this time his brain heated in +alarm. A thin line had shot through the quarsteel—the beginning of a +crack.</p> + +<p>"Back!" Ken shouted to the still staring Sallorsen. "Back to the third +compartment. This door's going!"</p> + +<p>"Yes," Sallorsen mumbled. "It'll go. So will the others. They'll smash +them all. And when this is flooded—no hope of running the submarine +again. Controls in here."</p> + +<p>"That's too damned bad!" Ken said roughly. "Are there any sea-suits, +food, supplies in here?"</p> + +<p>"Only food. In those lockers."</p> + +<p>"I'll take it. Get into that third compartment—hear me?" ordered +Kenneth Torrance. "And have its door ready to close!"</p> + +<p>He shoved Sallorsen away, opened the indicated lockers and piled his +arms with the tins revealed. He had time for no more than one load. He +jumped back into the third compartment of the <i>Peary</i> just as a +splintering crash sounded from behind. The door between was swung +closed and locked just as the one being battered crashed inward.</p> + +<p>Turning, Ken saw that the torpoon had cracked through the weakened +quarsteel and tumbled in a mad cascade of water to the deck of the +abandoned second compartment. In dread silence, he, with Sallorsen and +those of the men who had strength and curiosity enough to come +forward, watched the compartment rapidly fill—watched until they saw +the water pressed high against the door. And then horror swept over +Ken Torrance.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">W</span>ater! There was a trickle of water down the quarsteel he was leaning +against! A fault along the hinge of the door—either its construction, +or because it had not been closed properly.</p> + +<p>Ken pointed it out to the captain.</p> + +<p>"Look!" he said. "A leak already—just from the pressure! This door +won't last more than a couple of minutes when they start on it—"</p> + +<p>Sallorsen stared stupidly. As for the rest; Ken might not have spoken. +They were as if in a trance, watching dumbly, with lungs automatically +gasping for air.</p> + +<p>One of the seal-creatures eeled through the shattered quarsteel of the +first door and swam slowly around the newly flooded compartment. At +once it was joined by five other lithe, sleek shapes which, with +placid, liquid eyes, inspected the compartment minutely. They came in +a group right up to the next door that barred their way and, with no +visible emotion, stared through the quarsteel pane at the humans who +stared at them. And then they gracefully turned and slid to the +battered torpoon.</p> + +<p>"Back!" Ken shouted, "You men!" He shook them, shoved them roughly +back toward the fourth, and last, compartment. Weakly, like automatons +they shuffled into it. The torpooner said bruskly to Sallorsen:</p> + +<p>"Carry those tins of food back. Hurry! Is there anything stored in +here we'll need? Sallorsen! Captain! Is there anything—"</p> + +<p>The captain looked at him dully; then, understanding, a cackle came +from his throat. "Don't need anything. This is the end. Last +compartment. Finish!"</p> + +<p>"Snap out of it!" Ken cried. "Come on, Sallorsen—there's a chance +yet. Is there anything we'll need in here?"</p> + +<p>"Sea-suits—in those lockers."</p> + +<p>Ken Torrance swung around and rapidly opened the lockers. Pulling out +the bulky suits, he cried:</p> + +<p>"You carry that food back. Then come and help me."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">B</span>ut of the corner of his eye, as he worked, he could see the ominous +preparations beyond in the flooded compartment—the sealmen raising +the torpoon, guiding it back to the far end; leveling it out. Ken was +sure the door could not stand more than two or three blows at the +most. Two or three minutes, that meant—but all the sea-suits had to +go back into the fourth compartment!</p> + +<p>He was in torment as he worked. For him, the conditions were just as +bad as for the men who had lived below in the submarine for a month; +the poisonous, foul air racked him just as much; what breath he got he +fought for just as painfully. But in his body was a greater store of +strength, and fresher muscles; and he taxed his body to its very +limit.</p> + +<p>Panting, his head seeming on the point of splitting, Ken Torrance +stumbled through into the last compartment laden with a pile of +sea-suits. He dropped them clattering in a pile around his feet and +forced himself back again. Another trip; and another....</p> + +<p>It would never have been done had not Sallorsen and Lawson, the +scientist, come to his aid. The help they offered was meager, and +slow, but it sufficed. Laden for the fifth time, Ken heard what he had +been anticipating for every second of the all too short, agonizing +minutes: a sharp, grinding crack, and the following reverberation. He +snatched a glance around to see the torpoon falling to the deck of the +second compartment—the sealmen lifting it swiftly again—and a thin +but definite sliver in the quarsteel of the door.</p> + +<p>But the last suit was gotten into the fourth compartment, and the +connecting door closed and carefully locked and bolted. The removal of +the suits, had been achieved—but what now?</p> + +<p>Panting, completely exhausted, Ken forced his brain to the question. +From every side he attacked the problem, but nowhere could he find the +loophole he sought. Everything, it seemed, had been tried, and had +failed, during the <i>Peary's</i> long captivity. There was nothing left. +True, he had his torpoon, and its nitro-shell gun with a clip of +nineteen shells; but what use were shells? Even if each one accounted +for one of the sealmen, there would still remain a swarm.</p> + +<p>And the sea-suits. He had struggled for them and had saved them, but +what use could he put them to? Go out leading a desperate final sally +for the hole in the ice above? Death in minutes!</p> + +<p>No hope. Nothing. Not even a fighting chance. These seal-creatures, +strange seed of the Arctic ice, had trapped the <i>Peary</i> all too well. +On the roll of mysteriously missing ships would her name go down; and +he, Ken Torrance, would be considered a lunatic who had sought +suicide, and found it....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">O</span>f the twenty-one survivors of the <i>Peary's</i> officers and crew, only a +dozen had the will to watch the inexorable advance of the sealmen. The +rest lay in various attitudes on the deck of the rear compartment, +showing no sign of life save torturous, shallow pantings for air and, +occasionally, spasmodic clutchings at their throats and chests, as +they tried to fight off the deadly, invisible foe that was slowly +strangling them.</p> + +<p>Ken Torrance, Sallorsen, the scientist, Lawson, and a few others were +pressed together at the last watertight door, peering through the +quarsteel at the sea-creatures' systematic assault on the door leading +into the third compartment. A straight, hard smash at it; another +final splintering smash—and again the torpoon pushed through in the +van of a cascade of icy, greenish water, which quickly claimed the +control compartment for the attackers behind. The creatures were +growing bolder. More and more of them had entered the submarine, and +soon each open compartment was filled from deck to ceiling with the +slowly turning, graceful brown bodies, inspecting minutely the +countless wheels and levers and gauges, and inspecting also, in +turns, the pale, worn faces that stared with dull eyes at them +through the sole remaining door.</p> + +<p>There was no further retreat, now. Behind was only water and the swarm +that passed to and fro through it. Water and sealmen—ahead, above, to +the sides, behind—everywhere. Cooped in their transparent cell, the +crew of the submarine <i>Peary</i> waited the end.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">O</span>nce more, as well as he could with his throbbing head and heavy, +choking body, Kenneth Torrance tracked over the old road that had +brought him nowhere, but was the only road open. Carefully he took +stock of everything he had that he might possibly fight with.</p> + +<p>There were sea-suits for the men, and in each suit an hour's supply of +artificial but invigorating air. Two port-locks, one on each side of +the stern compartment. A torpoon, with a gun and nineteen shells. +Nothing else? There seemed to be, in his mind, a vague memory of +something else ... something that might possibly be of use ... +something.... But he could not remember. Again and again the agony of +slow strangulation he was going through drove everything but the +consciousness of pain from his shirking mind. But there was something +else—and perhaps it was the key. Perhaps if he could only remember +it—whatever it was—whether a tangible thing or merely a passing idea +of hours ago—the way out would be suddenly revealed.</p> + +<p>But he could not remember. He had the sea-suits, the port-locks and +the torpoon: what possible pattern could he weave them into to bring +deliverance?</p> + +<p>No, there was nothing. Not even a girder that could be unfastened in +time to brace the last door. No way of prolonging this last stand!</p> + +<p>Beside Ken, the strained, panting voice of Lawson whispered:</p> + +<p>"Getting ready. Over soon now. All over."</p> + +<p>All save five of the sealmen had left the third compartment, to join +the swarm constantly swimming around and over the submarine outside. +The five remaining were the crew for the battering ram. With measured +and deliberate movements they ranged their lithe bodies beside the +torpoon, lifted it and bore it smoothly back to the far end of the +compartment. There they poised for a minute, while from the men +watching sounded a pathetic sigh of anticipation.</p> + +<p>As one, the five seal-creatures lunged forward with their burden.</p> + +<p><i>Crash!</i> And the following dull reverberation.</p> + +<p>The last assault had begun.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> + +<h2><i>In a Biscuit Can</i></h2> + + +<p><span class="f1">K</span>en Torrance glanced with dull, hopeless eyes over the compartment he +stood in. Figures stretched out all over the deck, gasping, panting, +strangling—men waiting in agony for death. His head sank down, and he +wiped wet hands across his aching forehead. Nothing to do but +wait—wait for the end—wait as the patient horde outside had been +waiting in the sea-gloom for their moment of triumph, when the soft +bodies inside the <i>Peary</i> would be theirs to rip and mangle....</p> + +<p>A dragging sound brought Ken's eyes wearily up and to the side. One of +the crew who had been lying on the deck was dragging his body +painfully toward a row of lockers at one side of the compartment. The +man's eyes were feverishly intent on the lockers.</p> + +<p>Ken watched his progress dully, without thinking, as inch by inch he +forced himself through the other bodies sprawled in his way. He saw +him reach the lockers, and for a minute, gasping, lie there. He saw a +clawing arm stretch almost up to the catch on one locker, while the +man whimpered like a child at his lack of quick success.</p> + +<p><i>Crash!</i> The grinding blow of the torpoon hitting the quarsteel +clanged out from behind. But Ken's mind was all on the reaching man's +strange actions. He saw the fingers at last succeed in touching the +catch. The door of the locker opened outward, and eagerly the man +reached inside and pulled. With a thump, a row of heavy objects strung +together rolled out onto the deck—and Ken Torrance sprang suddenly to +the man's side:</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?" he cried.</p> + +<p>The man looked up sullenly. He mumbled:</p> + +<p>"Damn fish—won't get me. I'll blow us all to hell, first!"</p> + +<p>At that the connection struck Ken.</p> + +<p>"Then that's nitromite!" he shouted. "That's the idea—the nitromite!"</p> + +<p>And stooping down, he wrenched the rope of small black boxes which +contained the explosive from the man who had worked so painfully to +get them.</p> + +<p>"I'll do the blowing, boy!" he said. "Don't worry; I'll do it +complete!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">K</span>en, holding the rope of explosives, crossed the deck and pulled +Sallorsen and Lawson around. Their worn faces, with lifeless, +bloodshot eyes, met his own strong features, and he said forcefully:</p> + +<p>"Now listen! I need your help. I've found our one last chance for +life. We three are the strongest, and we've got to work like hell. +Understand?"</p> + +<p>His enthusiasm and the vigor of his words roused them.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Lawson. "What—we do?"</p> + +<p>"You say there's an hour's air left in the sea-suits?" Torrance asked +the captain.</p> + +<p>"Yes. An hour."</p> + +<p>"Then get the men into the suits," the torpooner ordered. "Help the +weaker ones; slap them till they obey you!" There came the ugly, +deafening crash of the hurled torpoon into the compartment door. Ken +finished grimly: "And for God's sake, hurry! I'll explain later."</p> + +<p>Sallorsen and Lawson unquestioningly obeyed. Ken had reached the +spirit in them, the strength not physical, that had all but been +driven out by the long, hopeless weeks and the poisonous stuff that +passed for air, and it had risen and was responding. Sallorsen's +voice, for the first time in days, had his old stern tone of command +in it as, calling on everything within him, he shouted:</p> + +<p>"Men, there's still a chance! Everyone into sea-suits! Quick!"</p> + +<p>A few of the blue-skinned figures lying panting on the deck looked up. +Fewer moved. They did not at once understand. Only four or five +dragged themselves with pathetic eagerness towards the pile of +sea-suits and the little store of fresh air that remained in them. +Sallorsen repeated his command.</p> + +<p>"Hurry! Men—you, Hartley and Robson and Carroll—your suits on! +There's air in them! <i>Put 'em on!</i>"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">A</span>nd then Lawson was among them, shaking the hopeless, dying forms, +rousing them to the chance for life. Several more crawled to obey. By +the time the next crash of the torpoon came, eleven out of the +twenty-one survivors were working with clumsy, eager fingers at their +sea-suits, pushing feet and legs in, drawing the tough fabric up over +their bodies, sliding their arms in, and struggling with quick panting +breaths to raise the heavy helmets and fasten them into place. +Then—air!</p> + +<p>Again the ear-shattering crash. The scientist and the captain drove at +the rest of the crew. They stumbled, those two fighting men, and twice +Lawson went down in a heap as his legs gave under him; but he got up +again, and they began dragging the suits to the men who had not even +the strength to rise, shoving inert limbs into place, switching on the +air-units inside the helmets and, gasping themselves, fastening the +helmets down. Theirs was a conflict as cruel, as hard and brutal as +men smashing at each other with fists, and they then proved their +right to the shining roll of honor, wherever and whatever that roll +may be. They fought on past pain, past sickness, past poisoning, that +man of action and men of the laboratory.</p> + +<p>And outside that foul transparent pit the tempo quickened also. The +sledging blows at the last door came quicker. All around the captive +<i>Peary</i> the sleek brown bodies stirred uneasily. For weeks there had +been but little activity inside the submarine; now, all at once, three +of the figures that were men whipped the others into action, rousing +those lying dying on the deck—working, working. Observing this, the +lithe seal bodies moved with new nervous, restless strokes, to and +fro, never pausing—passing up and down in a milling stream the length +of the craft, clustering closest outside the walls of the fourth +compartment, where they pressed as close as they could, their wide +brown eyes already on the haggard forms that worked inside, their +smooth bodies patterned by the constantly shifting shadows of their +fellows above and behind.</p> + +<p>So they watched and waited, while in the third compartment the +battered torpoon was slung at the last door, and drawn back, and slung +again—waited for the final moment, the crisis of their month-long +siege beneath the floes of the silent Arctic sea!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">K</span>enneth Torrance worked by himself.</p> + +<p>He saw that Sallorsen and Lawson had answered his call; man after man +was clad in his suit and sucking in the incomparably fresher, though +artificial, air of the units. As he had hoped, that air was +revitalizing the worn-out bodies rapidly, giving them new strength and +clearing their brains. His plan required that—strength for the men to +move and act for themselves—sane heads!</p> + +<p>The plan was basically simple. Bringing his best concentration to the +all-important details, Ken started to build the road to the world +above.</p> + +<p>First he opened the inner door of the starboard port-lock, wherein lay +his torpoon. Opening the entrance panel of the steel shell, he quickly +transferred within the cans of compressed food retrieved from the +second compartment. When he had finished, there was left barely room +for the pilot's body.</p> + +<p>And then the nitromite.</p> + +<p>The explosive was carried by the <i>Peary</i> for the blasting of such ice +floes as might trap her. It was contained for chemical stability in a +half dozen six-inch-square, water-proof boxes, strung one after +another on an interconnecting wired rope. Ken would need them all; he +wished he had five times as many. It would not matter if the whole of +the <i>Peary</i> were shattered to slivers.</p> + +<p>Ken tied the rope of boxes into a strong unit, as small as it could be +made. Firing and timing mechanisms were contained in each unit: he +would only have to set one of them. He wrapped the whole charge, +except for one small corner, in several pieces of the men's discarded +clothing—monkey jackets, thick sweaters, a dirty towel—and stuffed +it in an empty tin container for sea-biscuits.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">A</span>ll this had taken only minutes. But in those minutes the quarsteel of +the watertight door had been subjected to half a dozen smashing blows, +and already a flaw had appeared in the pane. Another grinding crunch, +and there would be the visible beginning of a crack. Three more, +perhaps, and the door would be down.</p> + +<p>But the plan was laid, the counter move ready; and, as Sallorsen and +Lawson, last of them all, got into suits, Ken Torrance, in short, +gasping sentences, explained it.</p> + +<p>"All the nitromite's in this," Ken said. "I hope it's enough. In a +moment I'll set the timing to explode it in one minute—then eject it +from the empty torpoon port-lock. It's a gamble, but I think the +explosion should kill every damned seal around the sub. Water carries +such shocks for miles, so it should stun, if not kill, all the others +within a long radius. See? We're inside sub, largely protected. When +the stuff explodes, you and men make for the hole you blew in the ice +above."</p> + +<p>Another crash sent echoes resounding through the remaining +compartment. All around the three were suit-clad figures, grotesque +clumsy giants, all feeling new strength as they gulped with leathern +throats and lungs at the artificial air which was giving them a +respite, however brief, from the death they had been sinking into. In +the third compartment of the <i>Peary</i>, five seal-like creatures with +swift and beautiful movements picked up their torpoon battering ram +again; while all around the outside of the <i>Peary</i> their hundreds of +watching fellows pressed in closely.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">"Y</span>es!" cried Lawson, the scientist. "But the explosion—it might +shatter the ship!"</p> + +<p>"No matter; I expect it to!" answered Ken. "Then you can leave through +a crack instead of a port-lock."</p> + +<p>"Yes—but you!" objected the captain. "Get on a suit!"</p> + +<p>"No; I'm jumping into my torpoon in the other port-lock. I've got the +food in it. Now, Sallorsen, this is your job. I'll be in my torpoon, +but I won't be able to let myself out the port. You open it, right +after the explosion. Understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," replied Sallorsen, and Lawson nodded.</p> + +<p>"All right," gasped Ken Torrance. "Empty the chamber." As the captain +did so, Ken opened the lid of the biscuit can and adjusted the timing +device on the exposed unit in the clothing-wrapped bundle. Then he +replaced it, ticking, in the can and thrust the can bodily into the +emptied chamber of the port-lock. He closed the inner door of the +chamber, and said to the men by him:</p> + +<p>"Close your face-plates!"</p> + +<p>And Ken pushed the release button: and then he was running to the +other port-lock and to his torpoon, and harnessing himself in.</p> + +<p>His brain teemed with the possibilities of the situation as he lay +stretched out in the torpoon, waiting. How much would the submarine be +smashed? Would the charge of nitromite, besides killing the sealmen, +kill everyone inside the <i>Peary</i>? For that matter, would it affect the +sealmen at all? How much could the creatures stand? And would the +firing mechanism work? And then would he himself be able to get out; +or would the lock in which the torpoon lay be damaged by the explosion +and trap him there?</p> + +<p>Seconds, only seconds, to wait, small fractions of time—but they were +more important than the days and the weeks that the <i>Peary</i> had lain, +a lashed-down captive, under the Arctic ice; for in these seconds was +to be given fate's final answer to the prayer and courage of them all.</p> + +<p>Time for Ken expanded. Surely the charge should have gone off long +before this! The pulse beat so loudly in his brain that he could hear +nothing else. He counted: "... nine, ten, eleven—" Had the fuse +failed? Surely by now—"... twelve, thirteen, fourteen—"</p> + +<p>On that the submarine <i>Peary</i> leaped. Ken Torrance, himself inside the +torpoon, felt a sharp roll of thunder made tangible, and then complete +darkness took him....</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> + +<h2><i>The Awakening</i></h2> + + +<p><span class="f1">H</span>e had no idea of how long he had been unconscious when, his full +senses returning, he eagerly peered ahead through the torpoon's +vision-plate. For some seconds he could see nothing; but he knew, at +least, that the torpoon had survived the shock, for he was dry and +snug in his harness. And then his eyes became accustomed to the +darkness, and he saw that he was outside the submarine. Sallorsen had +followed his orders; had opened the port-lock! The undersea reaches +lay ahead of him, and the way was clear.</p> + +<p>Ken stared into a gray, silent sea, no longer shadowed with moving +brown-skinned bodies. He tried his motors. Their friendly, rhythmic +hum answered him, and carefully he slipped into gear and crept up off +the sea-floor. He did not dare use his lights.</p> + +<p>The <i>Peary</i> was a great, blurred shadow, a dead thing without glow or +movement, with no figures of sealmen around her. As Ken's eyes gained +greater vision, he was able to make out a wide, long rent running +clear across the top of the fourth compartment of the submarine. The +explosion had done that to her, but what had it done to her crew? What +had it done to the sealmen?</p> + +<p>He saw the sealmen first. Some were quite close, but in the murk he +had missed them. Silent specters, they were apparently lifeless, +strewn all around at different levels, and most of them floating +slowly up toward the dim ice ceiling.</p> + +<p>But up under the ice was movement! Living figures were there! And at +the sight Kenneth Torrance's lips spread in their first real grin for +days. The plan had worked! The sealmen had been destroyed, and already +some of the <i>Peary's</i> men were up there and fumbling clumsily across +the hundred feet which separated them from the hole in the ice that +was the last step to the world above.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">A</span> ghostly gray haze of light filtered downward through the water from +the hole. Ken counted twelve figures making their way to it. As he +wondered about the rest of the crew, he saw three bulging, swaying +shapes suddenly emerge from the split in the top of the <i>Peary</i>, and +begin an easy rise toward the ice ceiling ninety feet above. There was +no apparent danger, and they went up quite slowly, with occasional +brief pauses to avoid the risk of the bends. Clasped together, the +group of three were, and when they were halfway to the glassy ceiling +of the ice, three more left the rent in the submarine and followed +likewise. Twelve men were at the top; six others were swimming up; +three more were yet to leave the submarine—and after they had +abandoned her, he, Ken, would follow with the torpoon and the food it +contained.</p> + +<p>So he thought, watching from where he lay, down below, and there was +in him a great weariness after the triumph so bitterly fought for had +been achieved. He rested through minutes of quiet and relaxation, +watching what he had brought about; but only minutes—for suddenly +without warning all security was gone.</p> + +<p>From out the murky shadows to the left a sleek shape came flashing +with great speed, to jerk Ken Torrance's eyes around and to widen them +with quick alarm.</p> + +<p>A sealman! A sealman alive, and moving—and vengeful! A sealman which +the explosion of nitromite had not reached!</p> + +<p>Doubtless the lone creature was surprised upon seeing all its fellows +motionless, drifting like corpses upward, and the men of the <i>Peary</i> +escaping. With graceful, beautiful speed, a liquid streak, it flashed +into the scene, eeling up and around and down, trying to understand +what extraordinary thing had happened. But finally it slowed down and +hovered some thirty feet directly above the dark hull of the <i>Peary</i>.</p> + +<p>The men rising toward the ice had seen the sealman at the same time +Ken Torrance had, and at once increased their efforts, fearing +immediate attack. Quickly the two groups shot to the top where the +other twelve were, and began a desperate fumbling progress over toward +the hole that alone gave exit. But the sealman paid no attention to +them. It was looking at something below.</p> + +<p>Ken saw what it was.</p> + +<p>The last three men were leaving the <i>Peary</i>. Awkward, swaying objects, +they rose up directly in front of the hovering creature.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">W</span>ith an enraged thrust of flippers, it drove at them. The three +humans—Sallorsen, Lawson and one other, Ken knew they must be—were +clasped together, and the long, lithe, muscular body smote them +squarely, sent them whirling and helpless in different directions in +the sea-gloom. One of them was driven down by the force of the blow, +and that one the sealman chose to finish first. It lashed at him, its +strong teeth bared to rip the sea-suit, concentrating on him all the +rage and all the thirst for vengeance it had.</p> + +<p>But by then, down below, the torpoon's motors were throbbing at full +power; the thin directional rudders were slanting; the torpoon was +turning and pointing its nose upward; and Ken Torrance, his face bleak +as the Arctic ice, was grasping the trigger of the nitro-shell gun.</p> + +<p>He might perhaps have saved the doomed man had he swept straight up +then and fired, but a quick mounting of the odds distracted him for a +fatal second. Out of the deeper gloom at the left came a swiftly +growing shadow, and Ken, with a sinking in his stomach, knew it for a +second sealman.</p> + +<p>Then another similar shadow brought his eyes to the right.</p> + +<p>Two more sealmen! Three now—and how many more might come?</p> + +<p>At once Ken knew what he must do before ever he fired a shell at one +of the brown-skinned shapes. The man just attacked had to be +sacrificed in the interests of the rest. The torpoon swerved, thrust +up toward the ice ceiling under the full force of her motors; and when +halfway to it, and her gun-containing bow was pointed at a spot in the +ice only twenty feet in front of the foremost of the men stroking +desperately towards the distant exit-hole, Ken pressed the trigger; +and again, and again and again....</p> + +<p>Twelve shells, quick, on the same path, bit into the ice. Almost +immediately came the first explosion. It was swelled by the others. +The ice shivered and crumbled in jagged splinters—and then there was +a new column of light reaching down from the world of air and life +into the darkness of the undersea. A roughly circular hole gaped in +the ice sixty or seventy feet nearer the swimming men than the old +one.</p> + +<p>"That'll give 'em a chance," muttered Kenneth Torrance. He plunged the +torpoon around and down. "And now for a fight!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">W</span>ithout pause, now, there was, straight ahead, a hard, desperate duel, +a fitting last fight for any torpoon or any man riding one. Each of +the seven shells left in the nitro-gun's magazine had to count; and +the first of them gave a good example.</p> + +<p>Ken turned down in time to see the death of the man first attacked. +His suit was ripped clean across, his air of life went up in bubbles, +and the water came in. The seal-creature lunged at its falling victim +a last time, and as it did so its smooth brown body crossed Ken's +sights. The torpooner fired, and saw his shell strike home, for the +body shuddered, convulsed, and the sealman, internally torn, went +sinking in a dark cloud after the human it had slain.</p> + +<p>That sight gave pause to the other two creatures that had arrived, and +gave Ken Torrance a good second chance. Motor throbbing, the torpoon +turned like a thing alive. Its snout and gun-sights swerving straight +toward the next target. But, when just on the point of pressing the +trigger, Ken's torpoon was struck a terrific blow and tumbled over and +over. The whole external scene blurred to him, and only after a moment +was he able to bring the torpoon back to an even keel.</p> + +<p>He saw what had happened. While he had been sighting on the second +seal-creature, the third had attacked the torpoon from the rear by +striking it with all the strength of its heavy, muscular body. But it +did not follow up its attack. For it had crashed in to the whirling +propeller, and now it was hanging well back, its head horribly gashed +by the steel blades.</p> + +<p>For a moment the three combatants hung still, both sealmen staring at +the torpoon as if in wonder that it could strike both with its bow and +stern, and Ken Torrance rapidly glancing over the situation. The +remaining two of the last group of three men, he saw, had reached the +top, and the foremost of the <i>Peary's</i> crew were within several feet +of the new hole in the ice. In a very short time all would be out and +safe. Until then he had to hold off the two sealmen.</p> + +<p>Two? There were no longer only two, but five—ten—a dozen—and more. +The dead were coming to life!</p> + +<p>Here and there in the various levels of drifting, motionless brown +bodies that he thought the explosion had killed, one was stirring, +awakening! The explosion had but stunned many or most of them, <i>and +now they were returning to consciousness</i>!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + +<h2><i>The Duel</i></h2> + + +<p><span class="f1">U</span>pon seeing this, all hope for life left Ken. He had only six shells +left, and at best he could kill only six sealmen. Already, there were +more than twenty about him, completely encircling the torpoon. They +seemed afraid of it, and yet desirous of finishing it—they hung back, +watching warily the thing that could strike and hurt from either end; +but Ken knew, of course, that he could not count on their inaction +long. One concerted charge would mean his quick end, and the death of +most of the men above.</p> + +<p>Well, there was only one thing to do—try to hold them off until those +men above had climbed out, every one.</p> + +<p>With this plan in mind, he maneuvered for a commanding position. +Quietly he slid his motor into gear, and slowly the torpoon rose. At +this first movement, the wall of hesitating brown bodies broke back a +little. It quickly pressed in again, however, as the torpoon came to a +halt where Ken wanted it—a position thirty feet beneath, and slightly +to one side, of the escaping men above, with an angle of fire +commanding the area the sealmen would have to cross to attack them.</p> + +<p>Almost at once came action. One of the surrounding creatures swerved +suddenly up toward the men. Instinctively angling the torp, Ken sent a +nitro-shell at it; and the chance aim was good. The projectile caught +the sealman squarely, and, after the convulsion, it began to drift +downward, its body torn apart.</p> + +<p>"That'll teach you, damn you!" Ken muttered savagely, and, to heighten +the effect he had created, he brought his sights to bear on another +sealman in the circle around him—and fired and killed.</p> + +<p>This sight of sudden death told on the others. They grew obviously +more fearful and gave back, though still forming a solid circle around +the torpoon. The circle was ever thickening and deepening downward as +more of those that the explosion had rendered unconscious returned to +life.</p> + +<p>And then, above, the first man reached the hole, clawed at its rough +edges and levered himself through.</p> + +<p>That was a signal. From somewhere beneath, two brown bodies flashed +upward in attack. Fearing a general rush at any second, Ken fired +twice swiftly. One shell missed, but the other slid to its mark. +Almost alongside its fellow, one of the creatures was shattered and +torn, and that evidently altered the other's intentions, for it +abandoned the attack and sought safety in the mass of its fellows on +the farther side.</p> + +<p>Another respite. Another man through the hole. And but two +nitro-shells left!</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">T</span>he deadly circle, like wolves around a lone trapper who crouches +close to his dying fire, pressed in a little; and by their ominous +quietness, by the sight of their eyes all turned in on him, their +concerted inching closer, Ken sensed the nearness of the charge that +would finish him. All this in deep silence, there in the gloomy +quarter-light. He could not yell and brandish his fists at them as the +trapper by the fire might have done to win a few extra minutes. The +only cards he had to play were two shells—and one was needed now!</p> + +<p>He fired it with deliberate, sure aim, and grunted as he saw its +victim convulse and die, with dark blood streaming. Again the swarm +hesitated.</p> + +<p>Ken risked a glance above. Only three men left, he saw; and one was +pulled through the hole as he watched. Below, in one place, several +seal-creatures surged upward.</p> + +<p>"Get back, damn you!" he cursed harshly. "All right—take it! That's +the last!"</p> + +<p>And the last shell hissed out from the gun even as the last man, +above, was pulled through up into the air and safety.</p> + +<p>Ken felt that he had given half his life with that final shell. +Completely surrounded by a hundred or more of the sealmen, he could +not possibly hope to maneuver the torpoon up to the hole in the ice +and leave it, without being overwhelmed. He had held off the swarm +long enough for the others to escape, but for himself it was the end.</p> + +<p>So he thought, and wondered just when that end would come. Soon, he +knew. It would not take them long to overcome their fear when they saw +that he no longer reached out and struck them down in sudden bloody +death. Now it was their turn.</p> + +<p>"Anyway," the torpooner murmured, "I got 'em out. I saved them."</p> + +<p>But had he? Suddenly his mind turned up a dreadful thought. He had +saved them from the sealmen, but they were up on the ice without food. +There had been no time to apportion rations in the submarine; all the +supplies were stacked around him in the torpoon!</p> + +<p>Searching planes would eventually appear overhead, but if he could not +get the food up to the men it meant their death as surely as if they +had stayed locked in the <i>Peary</i>!</p> + +<p>But how could he do it without shells, and with that living wall +edging inch by inch upon him, visibly on the brink of rushing him. +Some carried ropes with which they would lash the torpoon down as they +had the others. Must all he and those men had gone through, be in +vain? Must he die—and the others? For certainly without food, those +men above on the lonely ice fields, all of them weakened by the long +siege in the submarine, would perish quickly....</p> + +<p>And then a faintly possible plan came to him. It involved an attempt +to bluff the seal-creatures.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">T</span>hirty feet above the lone man in the torpoon was the hole he had +blasted in the ice. He knew that from the cone of light which filtered +down; he did not dare to take his eyes for a second from the creatures +around him, for all now depended on his judging to a fraction just +when the lithe, living wall would leap to overwhelm him.</p> + +<p>Now the torpoon was enclosed by what was more a sphere of brown bodies +than a circle. But it was not a solid sphere. It stretched thinly to +within a few feet of the ice ceiling where, in one place, was the hole +Ken had blown in the ice.</p> + +<p>He began to play the game. He edged the gears into reverse, gently +angled the diving-planes, and slowly the torpoon tilted in response +and began to sink back to the dark sea-floor.</p> + +<p>Motion appeared in the curved facade of sleek brown heads and bodies +in front and to the sides. The creatures behind and below, Ken could +not see; he could only trust to the fear inspired by the damage his +propeller had wreaked on one of them, to hold them back. However, he +could judge the movements of those behind and below by the +synchronized movements of those in front; for the sealmen, in this +tense siege, seemed to move as one—just as they would move as one +when a leader got the courage to charge across the gap to the torpoon.</p> + +<p>In reverse, slowly, the torpoon backed downward. Every minute seemed a +separate eternity of time, for Ken dared not move fast at this +juncture, and he needed to retreat not less than fifty feet.</p> + +<p>Fifty feet! Would they hold off long enough for him to make it?</p> + +<p>Foot by foot the torpoon edged down at her forty-five-degree angle, +and with every foot the watching bodies became visibly bolder. There +was no light inside the torpoon—inner light would decrease the +visibility outside—but Ken knew her controls as does the musician his +instrument. Slowly the propeller whirled over, the torpoon dropped, +slowly the diffused light from the hole above diminished—and slowly +the eager wall of sealmen followed and crept in.</p> + +<p>Twenty-five feet down; and then, after a long time, thirty-five feet, +and forty. Seventy feet up, in all, to the hole in the ice....</p> + +<p>Ken wanted seventy-five feet, but he could not have it. For the wall +of sleek bodies broke. One or two of the creatures surged forward; +other followed; they were coming!</p> + +<p>The slim torpoon leaped under the unleashed power of her +motors—forward.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">F</span>or one awful moment Ken thought he was finished. The vision of the +hole was obscured by a twisting, whirling maelstrom of bodies, and the +torpoon quivered and shook like a living thing in agony under glancing +blows.</p> + +<p>But then came a patch of light, a pathway of light, leading straight +up at a forty-five-degree angle to the hole in the ice above.</p> + +<p>Sealmen and torpoon had leaped forward at the same moment. Doubtless +the creatures had not expected the shell to move so suddenly and +decisively ahead, so that when it did, those in the van swerved to +escape head-on contact.</p> + +<p>The torpoon gained speed all too slowly for her pilot. It naturally +took time to gain full forward speed from a standing start. But she +moved, and she moved fast, and after her poured the full tide of +sealmen, now that they saw their prey running in retreat.</p> + +<p>From somewhere ahead appeared a rope, noosed to catch the fleeing +prey. It slipped off the side. Another touched the bow, but it too was +thrown off. The torpoon's forward momentum was now great; she was +sweeping up at the full speed Ken had gone back to be able to attain. +He needed full speed! The plan would fail at the last moment without +it!</p> + +<p>Another rope; but it was the seal-creature's last gesture. Through the +side plates of quarsteel the light grew fast; the ice was only ten +feet away; a slight directional correction brought the hole dead +ahead—and at full speed, twenty-four miles an hour, the torpoon +passed through and into the thin air of the world of light and life.</p> + +<p>Right out of the hole, a desperate fugitive from below, she leaped, +her propeller suddenly screaming, and arched high through the air +before she dove with a rending, splintering crash onto the upper side +of the sheet ice.</p> + +<p>And the sun of a cloudless, perfect Arctic day beat down on her; and +men were all around, eagerly reaching to open her entrance port. It +was done.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="f1">K</span>enneth Torrance, dazed, battered, hurting in every joint but +conscious, found the torpoon's port open, and felt hands reach in and +clasp him. Wearily he helped them lift him out into the thin sunlight. +Sitting down, slitting his eyes against the sudden glare, he peered +around.</p> + +<p>Captain Sallorsen was beside him, supporting him with one hand and +pounding him on the back with the other; and there in front was the +bearded scientist, Lawson, and the rest of the men.</p> + +<p>Ken took a great gulp of the clean, cold air.</p> + +<p>"Gosh!" was all he could say. "Gosh, that tastes good!"</p> + +<p>"Man, you did it!" shouted Sallorsen. "How, in God's name, I don't +know—but you did it!"</p> + +<p>"He did!" said Lawson. "And he did it all himself. Even to the food, +which should keep us till a plane comes by. If they haven't stopped +searching for us."</p> + +<p>His words reminded Ken of something.</p> + +<p>"Oh, there'll be a plane over," he said. "Forgot to tell you, but I +stole this torpoon—see?—and told the fellows they could come and get +it somewhere right around here."</p> + +<p>Kenneth Torrance grinned, and glanced down at the battered steel shell +which had borne him out of the water below.</p> + +<p>"And here it is," he finished. "A little damaged—but then I didn't +promise it would be as good as new!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Under Arctic Ice, by H.G. 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Winter + +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: Under Arctic Ice + +Author: H.G. Winter + +Release Date: July 21, 2009 [EBook #29475] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK UNDER ARCTIC ICE *** + + + + +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 January 1933. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the + U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. + + The Table of Contents is not part of the original magazine. + + + + A Sequel to "Seed of the Arctic Ice" + + + Under Arctic Ice + + _A Complete Novelette_ + + + By H.G. Winter + + * * * * * + + + + + Contents + + + I An Empty Room + II The Crash + III The Fate of the Peary + IV "No Chance Left" + V Last Assault + VI In a Biscuit Can + VII The Awakening + VIII The Duel + + * * * * * + + + + +[Sidenote: Ken Torrance races Poleward to the aid of the submarine +_Peary_, trapped in an icy limbo of avenging sealmen.] + +CHAPTER I + +_An Empty Room_ + + +The house where the long trail started was one of gray walls, gray +rooms and gray corridors, with carpets that muffled the feet which at +intervals passed along them. It was a house of silence, brooding +within the high fence that shut it and the grounds from a landscape +torpid under the hot sun of summer, and across which occasionally +drifted the lonely, mournful whistle of a train on a nearby railroad. +Inside the house there was always a hush, a heavy quiet--restful to +the brain. + +But now a voice was raised, young, angry, impatient, in one of the +gray-walled rooms. + +"Yes, I rang for you. I want my bags packed. I'm leaving this +minute!" + +The face of the man who had entered showed surprise. + +"Leaving, Mr. Torrance? Why?" + +"Read this!" + +[Illustration: _She was fastened in the mud of the gloomy sea-floor._] + +As if, knowing and therefore dreading what he would see, the attendant +took the newspaper held outstretched to him and followed the pointing +finger to a featured column. He scanned it: + + Deadline Passed for Missing Submarine + + Point Barrow, Aug. 17 (AP): Planes sent out to search for + the missing polar submarine _Peary_ have returned without + clue to the mystery of is disappearance. The close search + that has been conducted through the last two weeks, + involving great risks to the pilots, has been fruitless, and + authorities now hold out small hope for Captain Sallorsen, + his crew and the several scientists who accompanied the + daring expedition. + + If the _Peary_, as is generally thought, is trapped beneath + the ice floes or embedded in the deep silt of the polar + sea-floor, her margin of safety has passed the deadline, it + was pointed out to-day by her designers. Through special + rectifiers aboard, her store of air can be kept capable of + sustaining life for a theoretical period of thirty-one days. + And exactly thirty-one days have now elapsed since last the + _Peary's_ radio was heard from a position 72 deg. 47' N, 162 deg. + 22' W, some twelve hundred miles from the North Pole itself. + + In official circles, hope was practically abandoned for the + missing submarine, though attempts will continue to be made + to locate her.... + +"I'm sorry, Mr. Torrance," said the attendant nervously. "This paper +should--" + +"Should never have reached me, eh? Through some slip of the people who +censor my reading matter here, I read what I wasn't supposed +to--that's what you mean?" + +"It was thought better, Mr. Torrance, by the doctors, and--" + +"Good God! Thought better! Through their sagacity, these doctors have +probably condemned the men on this submarine to death! I haven't heard +a word about the expedition; didn't even know the _Peary_ was up +there, much less missing!" + +"Well, Mr. Torrance," the attendant stammered, more and more +unsettled, "the doctors thought that--that any news about it +would--well, upset you." + +The young man laughed bitterly; + +"Bring on my old 'trouble,' I suppose. The doctors have been +considerate, but I won't concern them any more. I'm through. I'm +leaving for the north--right now. There's a bare chance I might still +be in time." + +"I'm sorry, Mr. Torrance, but you can't." + +"Can't?" + +The attendant had retreated to the door. His eyes were nervous, his +face pale. + +"It's orders, Mr. Torrance. You've been under observation treatment, +and the doctors left strict orders that you must stay." + +The young man throbbed with dangerous anger. His hands clenched and +unclenched. He burst out, in a last attempt at reason: + +"But don't you see, I've _got_ to get to the _Peary_! It's the last +hope for those men! The position she was last heard from is right +where I--" + +"You can't leave, Mr. Torrance! I'm sorry, but I'll have to call a +guard!" + +For a minute their eyes held. With an effort, the young man said more +calmly: + +"I see. I see. I'm a prisoner. All right, leave me." + +The attendant was more than willing. The young man heard the door's +lock click. And then he lowered his head and pressed his hands hard +into his face. + +But a second later he was looking up again, at the single wide window +which gave out on the lonely landscape over which sometimes came +drifting the distant cry of a train's whistle. + + * * * * * + +Two months before, Kenneth Torrance had returned to the whaling +submarine _Narwhal_, of which he was first torpooner, with a confused +story of men who were half-seals that lived in mounds under the Arctic +ice,[1] who had captured him and--he found--had also captured the +second torpooner, Chanley Beddoes. In breaking free from their +mound-prison, Beddoes had killed one of the sealmen and had been +himself slain minutes later by a killer whale, one of the fierce +scavengers of the sea which the sealmen trapped for food even as the +_Narwhal_ sought them for oil. Ken Torrance alone came back. + +[Footnote 1: See the February, 1932, issue of Astounding Stories.] + +Over their doubts, he had stuck to his story. Later, he had repeated +it to officials of the Alaska Whaling Company, who worked the +submarine and several surface ships. They in return had sent him to a +private sanitarium in the State of Washington for a rest which they +hoped would "iron out the kink" in his brain. + +Here Ken had been for six weeks, while the exploring submarine _Peary_ +nosed her way northward toward the Pole. Here he had been, all +unknowing, while the world hummed with reports of the _Peary's_ +disappearance in that far-off ever-shrouded sea of mystery. + +She might, Ken knew, have struck a shaft of underwater ice, sending +her to the bottom; some of her machinery might have cracked up, +paralyzing her; the ice-fields under which she cruised might have +shifted suddenly, crushing her ribs--of these perils the world knew as +well as he. But the submarine's crew was prepared for them; the +_Peary_ was equipped with a circular saw for cutting up through the +ice from beneath, and she carried sea-suits which would allow her men, +if she were wrecked on the bottom, to leave her and get up on the ice +and wait for the first searching plane. + +Why, then, had not the planes which scoured the region found the +survivors? + +That was the mystery--but not to Ken Torrance. There was another +peril, of which he alone knew. Not far from where the _Peary's_ last +radio report had come, a group of hollowed-out mounds lay on the +sea-floor, swarming with brown-skinned, quick-swimming creatures. +Sealmen, they were--men who, like the seals, had gone back to the sea. +Months ago, Second Torpooner Chanley Beddoes had killed one of them. +They were intelligent; they could remember; they were capable of hate +and fear; they would be desirous of leveling the debt! + +There, Ken felt sure, lay the reason for the _Peary's_ baffling +silence, for the non-appearance of her men. + +There might still be time. No one of course would listen to him and +believe, so he would have to go in search of the _Peary_ and her crew +himself. + +Standing by the window, Kenneth Torrance quickly planned the several +steps which would take him to the Arctic and its silent ice-coated +sea. + +And when, some two hours later, after a short warning rap on the door, +the individual who served as Mr. Torrance's attendant entered his +room, he was confronted, not by the gentleman whose dinner he carried, +but by an empty room, a stripped bed, an open window, and a rope of +sheets dangling from it toward the ground two stories beneath. + +That was at seven o'clock in the evening. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +_The Crash_ + + +At a few minutes before eight o'clock, Air Mail Pilot Steve Chapman +was enjoying a quiet cigarette while waiting for the mechanics to warm +up the five hundred horses of his mail plane satisfactorily. Halfway +through, he heard, from behind, a quick patter of feet, and, turning, +he observed a figure clad in flannel trousers and sweater. The +cigarette dropped right out of his mouth as he cried: + +"Ken! Ken Torrance!" + +"Thank God you're here!" said Kenneth Torrance. "I gambled on it. +Steve, I've got to borrow your own personal plane." + +"What?" gasped Steve Chapman. "What--what--?" + +"Listen, Steve. I haven't been with the whaling company lately; been +resting, down here--secluded. Didn't know that submarine, the _Peary_, +was missing. I just learned. And I know damned well what's happened to +it. I've got to get to it, quick is I can, and I've got to have a +plane." + +Steve Chapman said rather faintly: + +"But--where was the _Peary_ when they last heard from her?" + +"Some twelve hundred miles from the Pole." + +"And you want to get there in a plane? From here?" + +"Must!" + +"Boy, you stand about one chance in twenty!" + +"Have to take it. Time's precious, Steve. I've got to stop in at the +Alaska Whaling Company's outpost at Point Christensen, then right on +up. I can't even begin unless I have a plane. You've got to help me on +my one chance of bringing the _Peary's_ men out alive! You'll probably +never see the plane again, Steve, but--" + +"To hell with the plane, if you come through with yourself and those +men," said the pilot. "All right, kid, I don't get it all, but I'm +playing with you. You're taking my own ship." + +He led Ken to a hangar wherein stood a trim five-passenger amphibian; +and very soon that amphibian was roaring out her deep-throated song of +power on the line, itching for the air, and Steve Chapman was shouting +a few last words up to the muffled figure in the enclosed control +cockpit. + +"Fuel'll last around forty hours," he finished. "You'll find two +hundred per, easy, and twenty-five hours should take you clear to +Point Christensen. I put gun and maps in the right pocket; food in +that flap behind you. Go to it, Ken!" + +Ken Torrance gripped the hand outstretched to his and held it tight. +He could say nothing, could only nod--this was a real friend. He gave +the ship the gun. + +Her mighty Diesel bellowed, lashed the air down and under; the +amphibian spun her retractable wheels over the straight hard ground +until they lifted lightly and tilted upward in a slow climb for +altitude. With fiery streams from the exhaust lashing her flanks, she +faded into the darkness to the north. + +"Well," murmured Steve Chapman, "I've got her instalments left, +anyway!" And he grinned and turned to the mail. + + * * * * * + +That night passed slowly by; and the next day; and all through night +and day the steady roar of beating cylinders hung in Kenneth +Torrance's ears. At last came Point Christensen and a descent; sleep +and then quick, decisive action; and again the amphibian rose, heavily +loaded now, and droned on toward the ice and the cold bleak skies of +the far north. On, ever on, until Point Barrow, Alaska's northernmost +spur, was left behind to the east, and the world was one of drifting +ice on gray water. Muscles cramped, mind dulled by the everlasting +roar, head aching and weary, Ken held the amphibian to her steady +course, until a sudden wind shook her momentarily from it. + +A rising wind. The skies were ugly. And then he remembered that the +men at Point Christensen had warned him of a storm that was brewing. +They'd told him that he was heading into disaster; and their +surprised, rather fearful faces appeared before him again, as he had +seen them just before taking off, after he had told them where he was +going. + +Of course they'd thought him crazy. He had brought the amphibian down +in the little harbor off the whaling company's base, gone ashore and +greeted his old friends. There was only a handful of men stationed +there; the _Narwhal_ was being overhauled in a shipyard at San +Francisco, and it wasn't the season for surface whalers. They knew +that he, Ken, had been put in a sanitarium; all of them had heard his +wild story about sealmen. But he concocted a plausible yarn to account +for his arrival, and they had fed him and given him a berth in the +bunkhouse for the night. + +For the night! Ken Torrance grinned as he recalled the scene. In the +middle of the night he had risen, quickly awakened four of the +sleeping men, and with his gun forced them to take a torpoon from the +outpost's storehouse and put it inside the amphibian's passenger +compartment. + +It was robbery, and of course they'd thought him insane, but they +didn't dare cross him. He had told them cheerfully he was going after +the _Peary_, and that if they wanted the torpoon back they were to +direct the searching planes to keep their eyes on the place where the +submarine was last heard from.... + + * * * * * + +Ken came back to the present abruptly as the plane lurched. The wind +was getting nasty. At least he did not have much farther to go; an +hour's flying time would take him to his goal, where he must descend +into the water to continue his search. His search! Had it been, he +wondered, a useless one from the start? Had the submarine's crew been +killed before he'd even read of her disappearance? If the sealmen got +them, would they destroy them immediately? + +"I doubt it," Ken muttered to himself. "They'd be kept prisoners in +one of those mounds, like I was. That is, if they haven't killed any +of the creatures. It hangs on that!" + +An hour's time, he had reckoned; but it was more than an hour. For +soon the world was blotted out by a howling dervish of wind and driven +snow that time and time again snatched the amphibian from Ken's +control and hurled it high, or threw it down like a toy toward the +inferno of sea and ice he knew lay beneath. He fought for altitude, +for direction, pitched from side to side, tumbled forward and back, +gaining a few hundred feet only to feel them plucked breathtakingly +out from under him as the screaming wind played with him. + +Now and again he snatched a glance at the torpoon behind. The +gleaming, twelve-foot, cigar-shaped craft, with its directional +rudders, propeller, vision-plate and nitro-shell gun lay safely +secured in the passenger compartment, a familiar and reassuring sight +to Ken, who, as first torpooner of the _Narwhal_, had worked one for +years in the chase for killer whales. Soon, it seemed, he would have +to depend on it for his life. + +For all the Diesel's power, it was not enough to cope with the dead +weight of ice which was forming over the plane's wings and fuselage. +He could not keep the altimeter up. However he fought, Ken saw that +finger drop down, down--up a trifle, quivering as the racked plane +quivered--and then down and down some more. + +He saw that the plane was doomed. He would have to abandon it--in the +torpoon--if he could. + +He was some thirty miles from his objective. The sea beneath would be +half hidden under ragged, drifting floes. In fair weather he could +have chosen a landing space of clear water, but now he could not +choose. The altitude dial said that the water was three hundred feet +beneath, and rapidly rising nearer. + +A margin of seconds in which to prepare! Ken locked the controls and +scrambled back into the passenger compartment. Steadying himself on +the bucking floor, he opened the torpoon's entrance port and slid in; +quickly he locked the port and strapped the inner body harness around +him; and then he waited. + +Now it was all chance. If the plane crashed into clear water, he was +safe; but if she hit ice.... He put that thought from him. + +The locked controls held the amphibian for perhaps thirty seconds. +Then with a scream the storm-giant took her. A mad up-current of wind +hurled her high, whirled her dizzily, toyed with her--and then she +spun and dove. Down, down, down; down with a speed so wild Ken grew +faint; down through the core of a maelstrom of snow till she crashed. + +Kenneth Torrance knew a sudden shaking impact; for an instant there +was uncertainty; and then came all-pervading quiet.... + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +_The Fate of the Peary_ + + +Quiet, and utter, liquid darkness. + +Liquid! Around him, Ken heard a gurgling, at first loud and close, +then subsiding to a low whispering of currents. The amphibian had hit +water. + +Gone in an instant was the shriek and fury of the storm and in its +place the calm, slow-heaving silence of underwater. The plane was +shattered in a dozen places, but the torpoon had easily stood it. + +Ken turned to action. He switched on the torpoon's dashboard lights +and twin bow-beams, and saw that the shell was wedged in the fuselage. +The plane was apparently entirely under the surface, and her interior +filled with water. + +Holding the propeller in neutral, he revved up the powerful electric +motor. Then he bit the propeller in, slowly. The torpoon nudged back +for inches. Then, throwing the gear into forward, Ken gave her full +speed. The torpoon leaped ahead, crunched through the weakened corner +ahead and was free. + +It was a world of drab tones that she came into. Down below was +impenetrable blackness, shading softly overhead into blue-gray which +was mottled by lighter areas from breaks in the floes above. All was +calm. There was no sign of life save for an occasional vague shadow +that, melting swiftly away, might have been a fish or seaweed. Placid +always, would be this shrouded sea of mystery, no matter what furious +tempest raged above over the flat leagues of ice and water. + +But the seeming peacefulness was but a mask for danger. Kenneth +Torrance's face was set in sober lines as he sped the slim torpoon +northward, her bow lights shafting long white fingers before her. For +now there was only one path--and that lay ahead. He could not turn +back. Storm and water had destroyed the plane that could take him back +to land. He could not possibly reach any outpost of civilization in +the torpoon, for her cruising radius was only twenty hours. He had +planned to land the amphibian on the ice above the spot where the +_Peary_ had disappeared, then find a break in the ice and slide down +below in the torpoon on his quest--to return to the plane if it proved +fruitless. But now there was no retreat. It was succeed, or die. + +And with that realization a more dreadful thought flashed into his +mind. All those men, of the whaling company and the sanitarium, +thought him a little crazy. And, since lunatics are always convinced +of the reality of their visions, what if the sealmen--his adventure +amidst them--had been but a dream, a nightmare, an hallucination? What +if he were in truth crazy? The fear grew rapidly. What if he were? +God! He, hunting for the _Peary_, when all those planes and men had +failed! He, expecting to achieve what those searchers, with far +greater resources, had not been able to! Did not that give evidence +that his mind was twisted? Creatures, half-seal, half-men, living +under the ice--it certainly seemed a lunatic's obsession. + +Then something within him rose and fought back. + +"No!" he cried aloud. "I'll go bugs if I think like that! Those +sealmen were real--and I know where they are. I'm going on!" + +And, an hour later, the dashboard's shaded dials told him he was on +the exact spot where the _Peary_ had last reported.... + + * * * * * + +Here was the real Arctic, the real polar sea. No sun, no breath of the +world above could reach it through its eternal mask of solid ice. As +one of the few unfamiliar aspects of the earth, it was as far removed +from the imagination of man as if it were part of a far planet hung +spinning millions of miles out in space. Men could reach it in shells +of metal, but it was not meant for him, and was always hostile. A +dozen times a daring one could cross safely its cold lonely reaches, +but the thirteenth time it would snare and destroy him for the +unwanted trespasser he was. + +It was here that the _Peary_ had stepped off into mystery. At this +point her hull had throbbed with air, movement, life; at this point +all had been well. And then, minutes or hours later, close to here, +the sea devil had sprung. + +What had happened? What had trapped her? What, even more baffling, had +kept her men with their manifold safety devices from even reaching and +climbing up on the ice above to signal the searching planes? + +Ken Torrance, oppressively alone in the hovering torpoon, gazed +through its vision-plate of fused quartz around him. Gray sea, +filtering to black beneath; distant eerie shadows, probably meaning +nothing, but possibly all important; ceiling of thick ice above, rough +and in places broken by a sharp down-thrusting spur--these were his +surroundings. These were what he must hunt through, until he came upon +the crumpled remnant of a submarine, or the murky, rounded hillocks +which gave habitation to the creatures he suspected of capturing that +submarine's crew. + + * * * * * + +He began the search systematically. He angled the torpoon down to a +position halfway between sea-floor and ice-ceiling, then swung her in +an ever-widening circle. Soon his orbit had a diameter of a half-mile; +then a mile; then two. + +The torpoon slipped through the water at full speed, her light-beams +like restless antennae, now stabbing to the right to dissolve a +formless shadow, now to the left to throw into blinding white relief a +school of half-transparent fish which scurried with frantic wrigglings +of tails from the glare, now slanting up to bathe the cold glassy face +of an inverted ice-hill, now down to dig two white holes in the deeper +gloom. + +Ken continued this routine for hours. Steadily and low the electric +motor droned in the ears of the watchful pilot, and the stubby +propeller's blades flashed round in a blur of speed between the +slightly slanted rudders. Somewhere, miles away, a splintered +amphibian plane was slipping down to her last landing, and above, +perhaps, the white hell of storm which had brought her low still +bowled over the trackless wastes; but here were only shadows and +shifting gloom, straining the alert eyes to soreness and tensing the +watcher's brain with alarms that, one after another, were only false. + +Until at last he found her. + +Immediately he shut off all his lights. He no longer needed them. Far +in the distance, and below, wavered a faint yellow glow. It was no +fish; it could mean only one thing--the lights of a submarine. + +And lights meant life! There would be none burning in a deserted +submarine. His heart beat fast and his tight, sober lips widened in a +quick grin. He had found the _Peary_! And found her with some life +still aboard her! He was in time! + +So Ken rejoiced while he slid the torpoon down to a level just a few +feet above the silty sea bottom, reducing her to quarter-speed. There +was an urge inside him to switch on his bow-beams, reach them out +toward the submarine's hull to tell all within that help was at last +at hand; he wanted to send the torpoon ahead at full speed. But +caution restrained him to a more deliberate course. He was in the +realm of the sealmen, and he did not wish to attract the attention of +any. So he advanced like a furtive shadow slinking along the dark +sea-bottom, deep in the covering gloom. + +Nearer and nearer, while the distant blur of yellow light grew. Nearer +and nearer to the long-trapped men, while the consciousness that he +had succeeded intoxicated him. He alone had found them! Sealmen or no +sealmen, he had found the _Peary_! And found her with lights lit and +life inside! Nearer and nearer.... + +And then suddenly Ken halted the torpoon and stared with wide, alarmed +eyes. For the submarine was now plainly visible in detail--and he saw +her real plight and with it knew the answer to the mystery of her long +silence and the non-appearance of her men on the ice field above. + + * * * * * + +The _Peary_ was a spectacle of fantastic beauty. It was as if a huge, +rounded piece of amber, mellow, golden, lay in the murk of the +sea-floor. Not steel, hard and grim, but of transparent, shimmering +stuff she was built, all coated a soft yellow by her lights, clearly +visible inside. Ken had known something of her radical construction; +knew that a substance called quarsteel, similar to glass and yet fully +as tough as steel, had been used for her hull, making her a perfect +vehicle for undersea exploration. Her bow was capped with steel, and +her stern, propellers, diving rudders; her port-locks, for the +releasing of torpoons, were also of steel, as were the struts that +braced her throughout--but the rest was quarsteel, glowing and golden +as the heart of amber. + +Beautiful with a wild yet scientific beauty was the _Peary_, but she +was not free. She was trapped. She was fastened to the mud of the +gloomy sea-floor. + +Ropes held her down; and Ken Torrance knew those ropes of old. They +were tough and strong, woven of many strands of seaweed, and twenty or +thirty of them striped the _Peary's_ two hundred feet of hull. +Unevenly spaced, stretched clear over the ship from one side to the +other, they were caught around her up-jutting conning tower, fastened +through her rudders, and holding tight in a score of places. They held +the submarine down despite all the buoyancy of her emptied tanks and +the power of her twin propellers. + +And the sealmen swam around her. + + * * * * * + +Restless dark shadows against the golden hull, they wavered and darted +and poised, totally unafraid. Another in Kenneth Torrance's place +would have put them down as some strange school of large seals, +inordinately curious but nothing more; but the torpooner knew them as +men--men remodeled into the shape of seals; men who, ages ago, had +forsaken the land for the old home of all life, the sea; who, through +the years, had gradually changed in appearance as their flesh had +become coated with layers of cold-resisting blubber; whose movements +had become adapted to the water; whose legs and arms had evolved into +flippers; but whose heads still harbored the now faint spark of +intelligence that marked them definitely as men. + +Emotions similar to man's they had, though dulled; friendliness, +curiosity, anger, hate, and--Ken knew and feared--even a capacity for +vengeance. Vengeance! An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth--the old +law peculiar to man! Chanley Beddoes had slain one of them; if only +the _Peary's_ crew had not killed more! If only that, there might be +hope! + +First he must get inside the submarine. Warily, like a stalking cat, +Ken Torrance inched the torpoon toward the great shining ship. At +least he was in time. Within her he could see figures, most of them +stretched out on the decks of her different compartments, but one of +whom occasionally moved--slowly. He understood that. For weeks now the +_Peary_ had lain captive, and her air had passed beyond the aid of +rectifiers. Tortured, those survivors inside were, constantly +struggling for life, with vitality ever sinking lower. Some might +already be dead. But at least he could try to save the rest. + +He approached her from one side of the rear, for in the rear +compartment were her two torpoon port-locks. The one on his side was +empty, its outer door open. The torpoon it had held had been sent out, +probably for help, and had not returned. It provided a means of +entrance for him. + +At perhaps a hundred feet from the port-lock, Ken halted again. His +slim craft was almost indistinguishable in the murk: he felt +reasonably safe from discovery. For minutes he watched the swimming +sealmen, waiting for the best chance to dart in. + + * * * * * + +It was then, while studying the full length of the submarine more +closely, that he saw that one compartment of her four was filled with +water. Her steel-caped bow had been stove in. That, he conjectured, +had been the original accident which had brought her down. It was not +a fatal accident in itself, for there were three other compartments, +all separated by watertight bulkheads, and the flooded one could be +repaired by men in sea-suits--but then the sealmen had come and roped +her down where she lay. Some of the creatures, he saw, were actually +at that time inside the bow compartment, swimming around curiously +amidst the clustered pipes, wheels and levers. It was a weird sight, +and one that held his eyes fascinated. + +But suddenly, through his absorption, danger prickled the short hairs +of his neck. A lithe, sinuous shadow close ahead was wavering, and +large, placid brown eyes were staring at him. A sealman! He was +discovered! And instinctively, immediately, Ken Torrence brought the +torpoon's accelerator down flat. + +The shell jumped ahead with whirling propeller. The creature that had +seen him doubled around and sped in retreat. In brief snatches, as the +torpoon streaked across the hundred-foot gap to the empty port-lock, +Ken glimpsed his discoverer gathering a group of its fellows, and saw +brown-skinned bodies swarm after him with nooses of seaweed-rope--and +then the great transparent side wall of the _Peary_ was before him, +and the port-locks dark opening. Ken threw his motor into reverse, +slid the torpoon slightly to one side, and there was a jerk, a jar, +and a sensation of something moving behind. + +He turned to see the port-lock's outer door closing, activated by +controls inside the submarine--and just in time to shut out the first +of his pursuers. Then the port-lock's pumps were draining the water +from the chamber, and the inner door clicked and opened. + +Kenneth Torrance climbed stiffly from the torpoon to enter the +interior of the long-lost and besieged exploring submarine _Peary._ + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +"_No Chance Left_" + + +His entrance was an unpleasant experience. He had forgotten the +condition of the air inside the submarine, and what its effect on him, +coming straight from comparatively good and fresh air, would be, until +he was seized by a sudden choking grip around his throat. He reeled +and gasped, and was for a minute nauseated. Lights flashed around him, +and teetering backward he leaned weakly, against some metal object +until gradually his head cleared; but his lungs remained tortured, and +his breathing a thing of quick, agonised gulps. + +Then came sounds. Figures appeared before him. + +"From where--" "Who are you?" + +"What--what--what--" "How did you?" + +The half-coherent questions were couched in whispers. The men around +him were blear-eyed and haggard-faced, their skins dry and bluish, and +not a one was clad in more than undershirt and trousers. Alive and +breathing, they were--but breathing grotesquely, horribly. They made +awful noises at it; they panted, in quick, shallow sucks. Some lay on +the deck at his feet, outstretched without energy enough to attempt to +rise. + +Beautiful and slumber-like the submarine had appeared from outside, +but inside that effect was lost. There were the usual appurtenances: a +maze of pipes, wheels, machinery, all silent now, and cold; here were +the two port-locks for torpoons; the emergency steering controls; the +small staterooms of the _Peary's_ officers. Looking forward, still +striving for complete clear-headedness and normality, Ken could see +the two intact forward compartments, silent and apparently lifeless, +with dim lamps burning. They ended with the watertight bulkhead which +stood between them and the flooded bow compartment. + +Ken at last found words, but even his short query cost a sickening +effort. + +"Where's--the commander?" he asked. + + * * * * * + +A man turned from where he had been leaning against a nearby wheel +control. He was stripped to the waist. His tall body was stooped, and +the skin of his ruggedly cut face drawn and parchment-like. His face +had once been dignified and authoritative, but now it was that of a +man who nears death after a long, bitter fight for life. The smile +which he gave to Ken was painful--a mockery. + +"I am," he said faintly. "Sallorsen. Just wait, please. A minute. I +worked port-lock. Breath's gone...." + +He sucked shallowly for air and let his smile go. And standing there, +beside him, gazing at the worn frame, Ken felt strength come back. He +had just entered; this man and the others had been here for weeks! + +"I'm Sallorsen," the captain went on at last. All his words were +clipped off, to cost minimum effort. "Glad you got through. Afraid +you're come to prison, though." + +"No!" Ken said emphatically. He spoke to the captain, but what he said +was also for all the others grouped around him. "No, Captain! I'm +Kenneth Torrance. Once torpooner with Alaska Whaling Company. They +thought me crazy--crazy--'cause I told about sealmen. Put me in +sanitarium. I knew they had you--when--heard you were missing." He +pointed at the brown-skinned creatures that clustered close around the +submarine outside her transparent walls. "I got free and came. Just in +time." + +"In time? For what?" + +Another voice gasped out the question. Ken turned to a +broad-shouldered man with a ragged growth of beard that had been a +trim Van Dyke; and before the torpooner could answer, Sallorsen said: + +"Dr. Lawson. One of our scientists. In time for what?" + +"To get you and the submarine free," said Ken. + +"How?" + + * * * * * + +Ken paused before replying. He gazed around--out the side walls of +glistening quarsteel into the sea gloom, into the thick of the smooth, +lithe, brown-skinned shapes that now and again poised pressing against +the submarine, peering in with their liquid seal's eyes. Dimly he +could see the taut seaweed ropes stretching down from the top of the +_Peary_ to the sea-bottom. It looked hopeless, and to these men inside +it was hopeless. He knew he must speak in confident, assured tones to +drive away the uncaring lethargy holding them all, and he framed +definite, concise words with which to do it. + +"These creatures have caught you," he began, "and you think they want +to kill you. But look at them. They seem to be seals. They're not. +They're men! Not men like us--half-men--sealmen, rather--changed into +present form by ages of living in the water. I know. I was captured by +them once. They're not senseless brutes; they have a streak of man's +intelligence. We must communicate with that intelligence. Must reason +with them. I did once. I can do it again. + +"They're not really hostile. They're naturally peaceful; friendly. But +my friend--dead now--killed one of them. Naturally they now think all +creatures like us enemies. That's why they trapped your sub. + +"They think you're enemies; think you want to kill them. But I'll tell +them--through pictures, as I did once before--that you mean them no +harm. I'll tell them you're dying and must have air--just as they +must. I'll tell them to release submarine and we'll go away and not +disturb them again. Above all I must get across that you wish them no +harm. They'll listen to what my pictures will say--and let us +go--'cause at heart they're friendly!" + + * * * * * + +He paused--and with a ghastly, twisted smile, Captain Sallorsen +whispered: + +"The hell you say!" + +His sardonic comment brought a sudden chill to Kenneth Torrance. He +feared one thing that would render his whole value useless. He asked +quickly: + +"What have you done?" + +"Those seals," Sallorsen's labored voice continued "--they've killed +eight of us. Now they're killing all." + +"But have you killed any of them?" Breathless, Ken waited for the +answer be feared. + +"Yes. Two." + +The men were all staring at Ken, so he had to hide the awful dejection +which clamped his heart. He only said: + +"That's what I feared. It changes everything. No use trying to reason +with them now." He fell silent. "Well," he said at last, trying to +appear more cheerful, "tell me what happened. Maybe there's something +you've overlooked." + +"Yes," Sallorsen whispered. He started to come forward to the +torpooner, but stumbled and would have fallen had not Ken caught him +in time. He put one of the captain's arms around his shoulder, and one +of his own around the man's waist. + +"Thanks," Sallorsen said wryly. "Walk forward. Show you what +happened." + + * * * * * + +There were men in the second compartment, and they still fought to +live. From the narrow seamen's berths that lined the walls came the +sound of breathing even more torturous than that of the men in the +rear. In the single bulb's dim light Ken could see their shapes +stretched motionlessly out, panting and panting. Occasionally hands +reached up to claw at straining necks, as if to try and rid throats of +strangling grasps. Two figures had won free from the long struggle. +They lay silent and still, the outline of their dead bodies showing +through the sheets pulled over them. + +Slowly Sallorsen led Ken through this compartment and into the next, +which was bare of men. Here were the ship's main controls--her helm, +her central multitude of dials, levers and wheels, her televisiscreen +and old-fashioned emergency periscope. A metal labyrinth it was, all +long silent and inactive. Again the weird contrast struck Ken, for +outside he could still see the scene of vigorous, curious life that +the sealmen constituted. Close they came to the submarine's sheer +walls of quarsteel, peering in stolidly, then flashing away with an +effortless thrust of flippers, sometimes for air from some break in +the surface ice. + +Like men, the sealmen needed air to live, and got it fresh and clean +from the world above. Inside, real men were gasping, fighting, +hopelessly, yielding slowly to the invisible death that lay in the +poisonous stuff they had to breathe.... + +Ken felt Sallorsen nudge him. They had come to the forward end of the +control compartment, and could go no farther. Before them was the +watertight door, in which was set a large pane of quarsteel. The +captain wanted him to look through. + +Ken did so, knowing what to expect; but even so he was surprised by +the strangeness of the scene. In among the manifold devices of the +front compartment, its wheels and pipes and levers, glided slowly the +sleek, blubbery shapes of half a dozen sealmen. Back and forth they +swam, inspecting everything curiously, unhurried and unafraid; and as +Ken stared one of them came right up to the other side of the closed +watertight door, pressed close to the pane and regarded him with large +placid eyes. + +Other sealmen entered through a jagged rip in the plates on the +starboard side of the bow. At this Sallorsen began to speak again in +the short, clipped sentences, punctuated by quick gasps for air. + + * * * * * + +"Crashed, bow-on," he said. "Underwater ice. Outer and inner plates +crumpled like paper. Lost trim and hit bottom. Got this door closed, +but lost four men in bow compartment. Drowned. No chance. Sparks among +'em, at his radio. That's why we couldn't radio for help." He paused, +gasping shallowly. + +"Could've got away if we'd left immediately. One flooded compartment +not enough to hold this ship down. But I didn't know. I sent two men +out in sea-suits--inspect damage. Those devils got them. + +"The seal-things came in a swarm. God! Fast! We didn't realize. They +had ropes, and in seconds they'd lashed us down to the sea-floor. +Lashed us fast!" Again he paused and sucked for the poisoned air, and +Ken Torrance did not try to hurry him, but stood silent, looking +forward to the squashed bow, and out the sides to where he could see +the taut black lines of the seaweed-ropes. + +"The two men put up fight. Had crowbars. Useless--but they killed one +of the devils. That did it. They were torn apart in front of us. +Ripped. Mangled. By spears the things carry. Dead like that." + +"Yes," murmured Ken, "that would do it...." + +"I quick tried to get away," gasped Sallorsen. "Full-speed--back and +forth. No good. Ropes held. Couldn't break. All our power couldn't! So +then--then I acted foolishly. Damn foolish. But we were all a little +crazy. A nightmare, you know. Couldn't believe our eyes--those seals +outside, mocking us. So I called for volunteers. Four men. Put 'em in +sea-suits, gave 'em shears and grappling prongs. They went out. + +"They went out laughing--saying they'd soon have us free! Oh, God!" It +seemed he could not go on, but he forced the words out deliberately. +"Killed without a chance! Ripped apart like the others! No chance! +Suicide!" + +Ken felt the agony in the man, and was silent for a while before +quietly asking: + +"Did they kill any more of the sealmen?" + +"One. Just one. That made two of them--six of us. What the hell are +the rest of them waiting for?" Sallorsen cried. "They killed eight in +all! To our two! That's enough for them, isn't it?" + +"I'm afraid not," said Ken Torrance. "Well, what then?" + +"Sat down and thought. Carefully. Hit on a plan. Took one of our two +torpoons. Lashed on it steel plates, ground to sharp cutting edges. +Spent days at it. Thought torpoon could go out and cut the ropes. +Haines volunteered and we shot him and torpoon out." + +"They got the torpoon?" Ken asked. + +Sallorsen's arm raised in a pointing gesture. "Look." + + * * * * * + +Some fifty feet away from the _Peary_, on the side opposite to the one +Ken Torrance had approached, a dimly discernible object lay in the +mud. In miniature, it resembled the submarine: a cigar-shaped steel +shell, held down to the sea-bottom by ropes bound over it. Cutting +edges of steel had been fastened along its length. + +"I see," said Ken slowly. "And its pilot?" + +"Stayed in the torpoon thirty-six hours. Then went crazy. Put on +sea-suit and tried to get back here. Whisk--they got him. Killed and +mangled while we watched!" + +"But didn't his torpoon have a nitro-shell gun? Couldn't he have +fought them off for a time?" + +"Exploring submarine, this! No guns in torpoons like whalers. Gun +wouldn't help, anyway. These devils too fast. No use. No hope +anywhere...." Sallorsen sank back against the bulkhead, his lips +moving but no sound coming forth. Dully he stared ahead, through the +submarine, for a moment before uttering a cackling mockery of a laugh +and going on. + +"Even after that, still hoped! Blew every tank on ship; blew out most of +her oil. Threw out everything not vital. Lightened her as much as could. +Machinery--detachable metal--fixtures--baggage--instruments--knives, +plates, cups--everything! She rose a couple of feet--no more! Put motors +at full speed--back and forth--again, again, again. Buoyancy--power--no +good. No damn good! + +"And then we tried the last chance. Explosives. Had quite a store, +Nitromite, packed in cases; time-fuses to set it off. Had it for +blasting ice. I sent up a charge and blew hole in the ice overhead, +for our other torpoon. + +"Nothing else left. Knew planes must be nearby, searching. Last +torpoon was to shoot up to the hole--pilot to climb on ice and stay +there to signal a plane." + +"Did he get there?" + +"Hell no!" Sallorsen cackled again. "It was roped like the other. +Pilot tried to get back, but they got him like first. There's the +torpoon--out ahead." + +Ken could just make it out. It lay ahead, slightly to port, lashed +down like its fellow by seaweed-ropes. His eyes were held by it, even +when Sallorsen continued, in an almost hysterical voice: + +"Since then--since then--you know. Week after week. Air getting worse. +Rectifiers running down. No night, no day. Just the lights, and those +damned devils outside. Wore sea-suits for a while; used twenty-nine of +their thirty hours air-units. Old Professor Halloway died, and another +man. Couldn't do anything for 'em. Just sit and watch. Head aching, +throat choking--God!... + +"Some of the men went mad. Tried to break out. Had to show gun. Quick +death outside. Here, slow death, but always the chance that--Chance, +hell! There's no chance left! Just this poison that used to be air, +and those things outside, watching, watching, waiting--waiting for us +to leave--waiting to get us all! Waiting...." + +"Something's up!" said Ken Torrance suddenly. "They've got tired of +waiting!" + + + + +CHAPTER V + +_The Last Assault_ + + +Sallorsen turned his head and followed the torpooner's intent, amazed +gaze. + +Ken said: + +"There's proof of their intelligence! I've been watching--didn't +realize at first. Look, here it comes!" + +Several sealmen, while Sallorsen had been talking, had come dropping +down from the main mass of the horde, and had grouped around the +abandoned torpoon which lay some feet ahead of the submarine's bow. +Expertly they had loosened the seaweed-ropes which bound it to the +sea-floor, then slid back, watching alertly, as if expecting the +torpoon to speed away of its own accord. Its batteries, of course, had +worn out weeks before, so the steel shell did net budge. The sealmen +came down close to it again, and lifted it. + +They lifted it easily with their prehensile flipper-arms, and with +maneuvering of delicate sureness guided it through the gash in the +_Peary's_ bow. Inside, they hesitated with it, midway between deck and +ceiling of the flooded compartment. They poised for perhaps a full +minute, judging the distance, while the two men stared; and then +quickly their powerful tail flippers lashed out and the torpoon jumped +ahead. It sped straight through the water, to crash its tough nose of +steel squarely into the quarsteel pane of the watertight door, then +rebounded, and fell to the deck. + +"My God!" gasped Sallorsen. But Ken wasted no words then. He pressed +closer to the quarsteel and examined it minutely. The substance showed +no visible effect, but the action of the sealmen destroyed whatever +hope he had felt. + +The sealmen had swerved aside at the last minute; and now, picking up +the torpoon again and guiding it back to the other end of the +compartment, they hurled it once more with a resounding crash into the +quarsteel pane. + +"How long will it last under that?" Ken asked tersely. + +Obviously, Sallorsen's wits were muddled at this turn. He remained +gaping at the creatures and at the torpoon, now turned against its +mother submarine. Ken repeated the question. + +"How long? Who knows? It's as strong as steel, but--there's the +pressure--and those blows hit one spot. Not--long." + + * * * * * + +Capping his words, there re-echoed again the loud crash of the +torpoon's on the quarsteel. The sealmen were working in quick routine +now; back and quickly forward, and then the crash and the +reverberation; and again and again.... + +The ominous crash and ringing echoes regularly repeated, seemed to +disorganise Ken's mind as he looked vainly for something with which to +brace the door. Nothing unattached was left--nothing! He ran and +examined the quarsteel pane again, and this time his brain heated in +alarm. A thin line had shot through the quarsteel--the beginning of a +crack. + +"Back!" Ken shouted to the still staring Sallorsen. "Back to the third +compartment. This door's going!" + +"Yes," Sallorsen mumbled. "It'll go. So will the others. They'll smash +them all. And when this is flooded--no hope of running the submarine +again. Controls in here." + +"That's too damned bad!" Ken said roughly. "Are there any sea-suits, +food, supplies in here?" + +"Only food. In those lockers." + +"I'll take it. Get into that third compartment--hear me?" ordered +Kenneth Torrance. "And have its door ready to close!" + +He shoved Sallorsen away, opened the indicated lockers and piled his +arms with the tins revealed. He had time for no more than one load. He +jumped back into the third compartment of the _Peary_ just as a +splintering crash sounded from behind. The door between was swung +closed and locked just as the one being battered crashed inward. + +Turning, Ken saw that the torpoon had cracked through the weakened +quarsteel and tumbled in a mad cascade of water to the deck of the +abandoned second compartment. In dread silence, he, with Sallorsen and +those of the men who had strength and curiosity enough to come +forward, watched the compartment rapidly fill--watched until they saw +the water pressed high against the door. And then horror swept over +Ken Torrance. + + * * * * * + +Water! There was a trickle of water down the quarsteel he was leaning +against! A fault along the hinge of the door--either its construction, +or because it had not been closed properly. + +Ken pointed it out to the captain. + +"Look!" he said. "A leak already--just from the pressure! This door +won't last more than a couple of minutes when they start on it--" + +Sallorsen stared stupidly. As for the rest; Ken might not have spoken. +They were as if in a trance, watching dumbly, with lungs automatically +gasping for air. + +One of the seal-creatures eeled through the shattered quarsteel of the +first door and swam slowly around the newly flooded compartment. At +once it was joined by five other lithe, sleek shapes which, with +placid, liquid eyes, inspected the compartment minutely. They came in +a group right up to the next door that barred their way and, with no +visible emotion, stared through the quarsteel pane at the humans who +stared at them. And then they gracefully turned and slid to the +battered torpoon. + +"Back!" Ken shouted, "You men!" He shook them, shoved them roughly +back toward the fourth, and last, compartment. Weakly, like automatons +they shuffled into it. The torpooner said bruskly to Sallorsen: + +"Carry those tins of food back. Hurry! Is there anything stored in +here we'll need? Sallorsen! Captain! Is there anything--" + +The captain looked at him dully; then, understanding, a cackle came +from his throat. "Don't need anything. This is the end. Last +compartment. Finish!" + +"Snap out of it!" Ken cried. "Come on, Sallorsen--there's a chance +yet. Is there anything we'll need in here?" + +"Sea-suits--in those lockers." + +Ken Torrance swung around and rapidly opened the lockers. Pulling out +the bulky suits, he cried: + +"You carry that food back. Then come and help me." + + * * * * * + +But of the corner of his eye, as he worked, he could see the ominous +preparations beyond in the flooded compartment--the sealmen raising +the torpoon, guiding it back to the far end; leveling it out. Ken was +sure the door could not stand more than two or three blows at the +most. Two or three minutes, that meant--but all the sea-suits had to +go back into the fourth compartment! + +He was in torment as he worked. For him, the conditions were just as +bad as for the men who had lived below in the submarine for a month; +the poisonous, foul air racked him just as much; what breath he got he +fought for just as painfully. But in his body was a greater store of +strength, and fresher muscles; and he taxed his body to its very +limit. + +Panting, his head seeming on the point of splitting, Ken Torrance +stumbled through into the last compartment laden with a pile of +sea-suits. He dropped them clattering in a pile around his feet and +forced himself back again. Another trip; and another.... + +It would never have been done had not Sallorsen and Lawson, the +scientist, come to his aid. The help they offered was meager, and +slow, but it sufficed. Laden for the fifth time, Ken heard what he had +been anticipating for every second of the all too short, agonizing +minutes: a sharp, grinding crack, and the following reverberation. He +snatched a glance around to see the torpoon falling to the deck of the +second compartment--the sealmen lifting it swiftly again--and a thin +but definite sliver in the quarsteel of the door. + +But the last suit was gotten into the fourth compartment, and the +connecting door closed and carefully locked and bolted. The removal of +the suits, had been achieved--but what now? + +Panting, completely exhausted, Ken forced his brain to the question. +From every side he attacked the problem, but nowhere could he find the +loophole he sought. Everything, it seemed, had been tried, and had +failed, during the _Peary's_ long captivity. There was nothing left. +True, he had his torpoon, and its nitro-shell gun with a clip of +nineteen shells; but what use were shells? Even if each one accounted +for one of the sealmen, there would still remain a swarm. + +And the sea-suits. He had struggled for them and had saved them, but +what use could he put them to? Go out leading a desperate final sally +for the hole in the ice above? Death in minutes! + +No hope. Nothing. Not even a fighting chance. These seal-creatures, +strange seed of the Arctic ice, had trapped the _Peary_ all too well. +On the roll of mysteriously missing ships would her name go down; and +he, Ken Torrance, would be considered a lunatic who had sought +suicide, and found it.... + + * * * * * + +Of the twenty-one survivors of the _Peary's_ officers and crew, only a +dozen had the will to watch the inexorable advance of the sealmen. The +rest lay in various attitudes on the deck of the rear compartment, +showing no sign of life save torturous, shallow pantings for air and, +occasionally, spasmodic clutchings at their throats and chests, as +they tried to fight off the deadly, invisible foe that was slowly +strangling them. + +Ken Torrance, Sallorsen, the scientist, Lawson, and a few others were +pressed together at the last watertight door, peering through the +quarsteel at the sea-creatures' systematic assault on the door leading +into the third compartment. A straight, hard smash at it; another +final splintering smash--and again the torpoon pushed through in the +van of a cascade of icy, greenish water, which quickly claimed the +control compartment for the attackers behind. The creatures were +growing bolder. More and more of them had entered the submarine, and +soon each open compartment was filled from deck to ceiling with the +slowly turning, graceful brown bodies, inspecting minutely the +countless wheels and levers and gauges, and inspecting also, in +turns, the pale, worn faces that stared with dull eyes at them +through the sole remaining door. + +There was no further retreat, now. Behind was only water and the swarm +that passed to and fro through it. Water and sealmen--ahead, above, to +the sides, behind--everywhere. Cooped in their transparent cell, the +crew of the submarine _Peary_ waited the end. + + * * * * * + +Once more, as well as he could with his throbbing head and heavy, +choking body, Kenneth Torrance tracked over the old road that had +brought him nowhere, but was the only road open. Carefully he took +stock of everything he had that he might possibly fight with. + +There were sea-suits for the men, and in each suit an hour's supply of +artificial but invigorating air. Two port-locks, one on each side of +the stern compartment. A torpoon, with a gun and nineteen shells. +Nothing else? There seemed to be, in his mind, a vague memory of +something else ... something that might possibly be of use ... +something.... But he could not remember. Again and again the agony of +slow strangulation he was going through drove everything but the +consciousness of pain from his shirking mind. But there was something +else--and perhaps it was the key. Perhaps if he could only remember +it--whatever it was--whether a tangible thing or merely a passing idea +of hours ago--the way out would be suddenly revealed. + +But he could not remember. He had the sea-suits, the port-locks and +the torpoon: what possible pattern could he weave them into to bring +deliverance? + +No, there was nothing. Not even a girder that could be unfastened in +time to brace the last door. No way of prolonging this last stand! + +Beside Ken, the strained, panting voice of Lawson whispered: + +"Getting ready. Over soon now. All over." + +All save five of the sealmen had left the third compartment, to join +the swarm constantly swimming around and over the submarine outside. +The five remaining were the crew for the battering ram. With measured +and deliberate movements they ranged their lithe bodies beside the +torpoon, lifted it and bore it smoothly back to the far end of the +compartment. There they poised for a minute, while from the men +watching sounded a pathetic sigh of anticipation. + +As one, the five seal-creatures lunged forward with their burden. + +_Crash!_ And the following dull reverberation. + +The last assault had begun. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +_In a Biscuit Can_ + + +Ken Torrance glanced with dull, hopeless eyes over the compartment he +stood in. Figures stretched out all over the deck, gasping, panting, +strangling--men waiting in agony for death. His head sank down, and he +wiped wet hands across his aching forehead. Nothing to do but +wait--wait for the end--wait as the patient horde outside had been +waiting in the sea-gloom for their moment of triumph, when the soft +bodies inside the _Peary_ would be theirs to rip and mangle.... + +A dragging sound brought Ken's eyes wearily up and to the side. One of +the crew who had been lying on the deck was dragging his body +painfully toward a row of lockers at one side of the compartment. The +man's eyes were feverishly intent on the lockers. + +Ken watched his progress dully, without thinking, as inch by inch he +forced himself through the other bodies sprawled in his way. He saw +him reach the lockers, and for a minute, gasping, lie there. He saw a +clawing arm stretch almost up to the catch on one locker, while the +man whimpered like a child at his lack of quick success. + +_Crash!_ The grinding blow of the torpoon hitting the quarsteel +clanged out from behind. But Ken's mind was all on the reaching man's +strange actions. He saw the fingers at last succeed in touching the +catch. The door of the locker opened outward, and eagerly the man +reached inside and pulled. With a thump, a row of heavy objects strung +together rolled out onto the deck--and Ken Torrance sprang suddenly to +the man's side: + +"What are you doing?" he cried. + +The man looked up sullenly. He mumbled: + +"Damn fish--won't get me. I'll blow us all to hell, first!" + +At that the connection struck Ken. + +"Then that's nitromite!" he shouted. "That's the idea--the nitromite!" + +And stooping down, he wrenched the rope of small black boxes which +contained the explosive from the man who had worked so painfully to +get them. + +"I'll do the blowing, boy!" he said. "Don't worry; I'll do it +complete!" + + * * * * * + +Ken, holding the rope of explosives, crossed the deck and pulled +Sallorsen and Lawson around. Their worn faces, with lifeless, +bloodshot eyes, met his own strong features, and he said forcefully: + +"Now listen! I need your help. I've found our one last chance for +life. We three are the strongest, and we've got to work like hell. +Understand?" + +His enthusiasm and the vigor of his words roused them. + +"Yes," said Lawson. "What--we do?" + +"You say there's an hour's air left in the sea-suits?" Torrance asked +the captain. + +"Yes. An hour." + +"Then get the men into the suits," the torpooner ordered. "Help the +weaker ones; slap them till they obey you!" There came the ugly, +deafening crash of the hurled torpoon into the compartment door. Ken +finished grimly: "And for God's sake, hurry! I'll explain later." + +Sallorsen and Lawson unquestioningly obeyed. Ken had reached the +spirit in them, the strength not physical, that had all but been +driven out by the long, hopeless weeks and the poisonous stuff that +passed for air, and it had risen and was responding. Sallorsen's +voice, for the first time in days, had his old stern tone of command +in it as, calling on everything within him, he shouted: + +"Men, there's still a chance! Everyone into sea-suits! Quick!" + +A few of the blue-skinned figures lying panting on the deck looked up. +Fewer moved. They did not at once understand. Only four or five +dragged themselves with pathetic eagerness towards the pile of +sea-suits and the little store of fresh air that remained in them. +Sallorsen repeated his command. + +"Hurry! Men--you, Hartley and Robson and Carroll--your suits on! +There's air in them! _Put 'em on!_" + + * * * * * + +And then Lawson was among them, shaking the hopeless, dying forms, +rousing them to the chance for life. Several more crawled to obey. By +the time the next crash of the torpoon came, eleven out of the +twenty-one survivors were working with clumsy, eager fingers at their +sea-suits, pushing feet and legs in, drawing the tough fabric up over +their bodies, sliding their arms in, and struggling with quick panting +breaths to raise the heavy helmets and fasten them into place. +Then--air! + +Again the ear-shattering crash. The scientist and the captain drove at +the rest of the crew. They stumbled, those two fighting men, and twice +Lawson went down in a heap as his legs gave under him; but he got up +again, and they began dragging the suits to the men who had not even +the strength to rise, shoving inert limbs into place, switching on the +air-units inside the helmets and, gasping themselves, fastening the +helmets down. Theirs was a conflict as cruel, as hard and brutal as +men smashing at each other with fists, and they then proved their +right to the shining roll of honor, wherever and whatever that roll +may be. They fought on past pain, past sickness, past poisoning, that +man of action and men of the laboratory. + +And outside that foul transparent pit the tempo quickened also. The +sledging blows at the last door came quicker. All around the captive +_Peary_ the sleek brown bodies stirred uneasily. For weeks there had +been but little activity inside the submarine; now, all at once, three +of the figures that were men whipped the others into action, rousing +those lying dying on the deck--working, working. Observing this, the +lithe seal bodies moved with new nervous, restless strokes, to and +fro, never pausing--passing up and down in a milling stream the length +of the craft, clustering closest outside the walls of the fourth +compartment, where they pressed as close as they could, their wide +brown eyes already on the haggard forms that worked inside, their +smooth bodies patterned by the constantly shifting shadows of their +fellows above and behind. + +So they watched and waited, while in the third compartment the +battered torpoon was slung at the last door, and drawn back, and slung +again--waited for the final moment, the crisis of their month-long +siege beneath the floes of the silent Arctic sea! + + * * * * * + +Kenneth Torrance worked by himself. + +He saw that Sallorsen and Lawson had answered his call; man after man +was clad in his suit and sucking in the incomparably fresher, though +artificial, air of the units. As he had hoped, that air was +revitalizing the worn-out bodies rapidly, giving them new strength and +clearing their brains. His plan required that--strength for the men to +move and act for themselves--sane heads! + +The plan was basically simple. Bringing his best concentration to the +all-important details, Ken started to build the road to the world +above. + +First he opened the inner door of the starboard port-lock, wherein lay +his torpoon. Opening the entrance panel of the steel shell, he quickly +transferred within the cans of compressed food retrieved from the +second compartment. When he had finished, there was left barely room +for the pilot's body. + +And then the nitromite. + +The explosive was carried by the _Peary_ for the blasting of such ice +floes as might trap her. It was contained for chemical stability in a +half dozen six-inch-square, water-proof boxes, strung one after +another on an interconnecting wired rope. Ken would need them all; he +wished he had five times as many. It would not matter if the whole of +the _Peary_ were shattered to slivers. + +Ken tied the rope of boxes into a strong unit, as small as it could be +made. Firing and timing mechanisms were contained in each unit: he +would only have to set one of them. He wrapped the whole charge, +except for one small corner, in several pieces of the men's discarded +clothing--monkey jackets, thick sweaters, a dirty towel--and stuffed +it in an empty tin container for sea-biscuits. + + * * * * * + +All this had taken only minutes. But in those minutes the quarsteel of +the watertight door had been subjected to half a dozen smashing blows, +and already a flaw had appeared in the pane. Another grinding crunch, +and there would be the visible beginning of a crack. Three more, +perhaps, and the door would be down. + +But the plan was laid, the counter move ready; and, as Sallorsen and +Lawson, last of them all, got into suits, Ken Torrance, in short, +gasping sentences, explained it. + +"All the nitromite's in this," Ken said. "I hope it's enough. In a +moment I'll set the timing to explode it in one minute--then eject it +from the empty torpoon port-lock. It's a gamble, but I think the +explosion should kill every damned seal around the sub. Water carries +such shocks for miles, so it should stun, if not kill, all the others +within a long radius. See? We're inside sub, largely protected. When +the stuff explodes, you and men make for the hole you blew in the ice +above." + +Another crash sent echoes resounding through the remaining +compartment. All around the three were suit-clad figures, grotesque +clumsy giants, all feeling new strength as they gulped with leathern +throats and lungs at the artificial air which was giving them a +respite, however brief, from the death they had been sinking into. In +the third compartment of the _Peary_, five seal-like creatures with +swift and beautiful movements picked up their torpoon battering ram +again; while all around the outside of the _Peary_ their hundreds of +watching fellows pressed in closely. + + * * * * * + +"Yes!" cried Lawson, the scientist. "But the explosion--it might +shatter the ship!" + +"No matter; I expect it to!" answered Ken. "Then you can leave through +a crack instead of a port-lock." + +"Yes--but you!" objected the captain. "Get on a suit!" + +"No; I'm jumping into my torpoon in the other port-lock. I've got the +food in it. Now, Sallorsen, this is your job. I'll be in my torpoon, +but I won't be able to let myself out the port. You open it, right +after the explosion. Understand?" + +"Yes," replied Sallorsen, and Lawson nodded. + +"All right," gasped Ken Torrance. "Empty the chamber." As the captain +did so, Ken opened the lid of the biscuit can and adjusted the timing +device on the exposed unit in the clothing-wrapped bundle. Then he +replaced it, ticking, in the can and thrust the can bodily into the +emptied chamber of the port-lock. He closed the inner door of the +chamber, and said to the men by him: + +"Close your face-plates!" + +And Ken pushed the release button: and then he was running to the +other port-lock and to his torpoon, and harnessing himself in. + +His brain teemed with the possibilities of the situation as he lay +stretched out in the torpoon, waiting. How much would the submarine be +smashed? Would the charge of nitromite, besides killing the sealmen, +kill everyone inside the _Peary_? For that matter, would it affect the +sealmen at all? How much could the creatures stand? And would the +firing mechanism work? And then would he himself be able to get out; +or would the lock in which the torpoon lay be damaged by the explosion +and trap him there? + +Seconds, only seconds, to wait, small fractions of time--but they were +more important than the days and the weeks that the _Peary_ had lain, +a lashed-down captive, under the Arctic ice; for in these seconds was +to be given fate's final answer to the prayer and courage of them all. + +Time for Ken expanded. Surely the charge should have gone off long +before this! The pulse beat so loudly in his brain that he could hear +nothing else. He counted: "... nine, ten, eleven--" Had the fuse +failed? Surely by now--"... twelve, thirteen, fourteen--" + +On that the submarine _Peary_ leaped. Ken Torrance, himself inside the +torpoon, felt a sharp roll of thunder made tangible, and then complete +darkness took him.... + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +_The Awakening_ + + +He had no idea of how long he had been unconscious when, his full +senses returning, he eagerly peered ahead through the torpoon's +vision-plate. For some seconds he could see nothing; but he knew, at +least, that the torpoon had survived the shock, for he was dry and +snug in his harness. And then his eyes became accustomed to the +darkness, and he saw that he was outside the submarine. Sallorsen had +followed his orders; had opened the port-lock! The undersea reaches +lay ahead of him, and the way was clear. + +Ken stared into a gray, silent sea, no longer shadowed with moving +brown-skinned bodies. He tried his motors. Their friendly, rhythmic +hum answered him, and carefully he slipped into gear and crept up off +the sea-floor. He did not dare use his lights. + +The _Peary_ was a great, blurred shadow, a dead thing without glow or +movement, with no figures of sealmen around her. As Ken's eyes gained +greater vision, he was able to make out a wide, long rent running +clear across the top of the fourth compartment of the submarine. The +explosion had done that to her, but what had it done to her crew? What +had it done to the sealmen? + +He saw the sealmen first. Some were quite close, but in the murk he +had missed them. Silent specters, they were apparently lifeless, +strewn all around at different levels, and most of them floating +slowly up toward the dim ice ceiling. + +But up under the ice was movement! Living figures were there! And at +the sight Kenneth Torrance's lips spread in their first real grin for +days. The plan had worked! The sealmen had been destroyed, and already +some of the _Peary's_ men were up there and fumbling clumsily across +the hundred feet which separated them from the hole in the ice that +was the last step to the world above. + + * * * * * + +A ghostly gray haze of light filtered downward through the water from +the hole. Ken counted twelve figures making their way to it. As he +wondered about the rest of the crew, he saw three bulging, swaying +shapes suddenly emerge from the split in the top of the _Peary_, and +begin an easy rise toward the ice ceiling ninety feet above. There was +no apparent danger, and they went up quite slowly, with occasional +brief pauses to avoid the risk of the bends. Clasped together, the +group of three were, and when they were halfway to the glassy ceiling +of the ice, three more left the rent in the submarine and followed +likewise. Twelve men were at the top; six others were swimming up; +three more were yet to leave the submarine--and after they had +abandoned her, he, Ken, would follow with the torpoon and the food it +contained. + +So he thought, watching from where he lay, down below, and there was +in him a great weariness after the triumph so bitterly fought for had +been achieved. He rested through minutes of quiet and relaxation, +watching what he had brought about; but only minutes--for suddenly +without warning all security was gone. + +From out the murky shadows to the left a sleek shape came flashing +with great speed, to jerk Ken Torrance's eyes around and to widen them +with quick alarm. + +A sealman! A sealman alive, and moving--and vengeful! A sealman which +the explosion of nitromite had not reached! + +Doubtless the lone creature was surprised upon seeing all its fellows +motionless, drifting like corpses upward, and the men of the _Peary_ +escaping. With graceful, beautiful speed, a liquid streak, it flashed +into the scene, eeling up and around and down, trying to understand +what extraordinary thing had happened. But finally it slowed down and +hovered some thirty feet directly above the dark hull of the _Peary_. + +The men rising toward the ice had seen the sealman at the same time +Ken Torrance had, and at once increased their efforts, fearing +immediate attack. Quickly the two groups shot to the top where the +other twelve were, and began a desperate fumbling progress over toward +the hole that alone gave exit. But the sealman paid no attention to +them. It was looking at something below. + +Ken saw what it was. + +The last three men were leaving the _Peary_. Awkward, swaying objects, +they rose up directly in front of the hovering creature. + + * * * * * + +With an enraged thrust of flippers, it drove at them. The three +humans--Sallorsen, Lawson and one other, Ken knew they must be--were +clasped together, and the long, lithe, muscular body smote them +squarely, sent them whirling and helpless in different directions in +the sea-gloom. One of them was driven down by the force of the blow, +and that one the sealman chose to finish first. It lashed at him, its +strong teeth bared to rip the sea-suit, concentrating on him all the +rage and all the thirst for vengeance it had. + +But by then, down below, the torpoon's motors were throbbing at full +power; the thin directional rudders were slanting; the torpoon was +turning and pointing its nose upward; and Ken Torrance, his face bleak +as the Arctic ice, was grasping the trigger of the nitro-shell gun. + +He might perhaps have saved the doomed man had he swept straight up +then and fired, but a quick mounting of the odds distracted him for a +fatal second. Out of the deeper gloom at the left came a swiftly +growing shadow, and Ken, with a sinking in his stomach, knew it for a +second sealman. + +Then another similar shadow brought his eyes to the right. + +Two more sealmen! Three now--and how many more might come? + +At once Ken knew what he must do before ever he fired a shell at one +of the brown-skinned shapes. The man just attacked had to be +sacrificed in the interests of the rest. The torpoon swerved, thrust +up toward the ice ceiling under the full force of her motors; and when +halfway to it, and her gun-containing bow was pointed at a spot in the +ice only twenty feet in front of the foremost of the men stroking +desperately towards the distant exit-hole, Ken pressed the trigger; +and again, and again and again.... + +Twelve shells, quick, on the same path, bit into the ice. Almost +immediately came the first explosion. It was swelled by the others. +The ice shivered and crumbled in jagged splinters--and then there was +a new column of light reaching down from the world of air and life +into the darkness of the undersea. A roughly circular hole gaped in +the ice sixty or seventy feet nearer the swimming men than the old +one. + +"That'll give 'em a chance," muttered Kenneth Torrance. He plunged the +torpoon around and down. "And now for a fight!" + + * * * * * + +Without pause, now, there was, straight ahead, a hard, desperate duel, +a fitting last fight for any torpoon or any man riding one. Each of +the seven shells left in the nitro-gun's magazine had to count; and +the first of them gave a good example. + +Ken turned down in time to see the death of the man first attacked. +His suit was ripped clean across, his air of life went up in bubbles, +and the water came in. The seal-creature lunged at its falling victim +a last time, and as it did so its smooth brown body crossed Ken's +sights. The torpooner fired, and saw his shell strike home, for the +body shuddered, convulsed, and the sealman, internally torn, went +sinking in a dark cloud after the human it had slain. + +That sight gave pause to the other two creatures that had arrived, and +gave Ken Torrance a good second chance. Motor throbbing, the torpoon +turned like a thing alive. Its snout and gun-sights swerving straight +toward the next target. But, when just on the point of pressing the +trigger, Ken's torpoon was struck a terrific blow and tumbled over and +over. The whole external scene blurred to him, and only after a moment +was he able to bring the torpoon back to an even keel. + +He saw what had happened. While he had been sighting on the second +seal-creature, the third had attacked the torpoon from the rear by +striking it with all the strength of its heavy, muscular body. But it +did not follow up its attack. For it had crashed in to the whirling +propeller, and now it was hanging well back, its head horribly gashed +by the steel blades. + +For a moment the three combatants hung still, both sealmen staring at +the torpoon as if in wonder that it could strike both with its bow and +stern, and Ken Torrance rapidly glancing over the situation. The +remaining two of the last group of three men, he saw, had reached the +top, and the foremost of the _Peary's_ crew were within several feet +of the new hole in the ice. In a very short time all would be out and +safe. Until then he had to hold off the two sealmen. + +Two? There were no longer only two, but five--ten--a dozen--and more. +The dead were coming to life! + +Here and there in the various levels of drifting, motionless brown +bodies that he thought the explosion had killed, one was stirring, +awakening! The explosion had but stunned many or most of them, _and +now they were returning to consciousness_! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +_The Duel_ + + +Upon seeing this, all hope for life left Ken. He had only six shells +left, and at best he could kill only six sealmen. Already, there were +more than twenty about him, completely encircling the torpoon. They +seemed afraid of it, and yet desirous of finishing it--they hung back, +watching warily the thing that could strike and hurt from either end; +but Ken knew, of course, that he could not count on their inaction +long. One concerted charge would mean his quick end, and the death of +most of the men above. + +Well, there was only one thing to do--try to hold them off until those +men above had climbed out, every one. + +With this plan in mind, he maneuvered for a commanding position. +Quietly he slid his motor into gear, and slowly the torpoon rose. At +this first movement, the wall of hesitating brown bodies broke back a +little. It quickly pressed in again, however, as the torpoon came to a +halt where Ken wanted it--a position thirty feet beneath, and slightly +to one side, of the escaping men above, with an angle of fire +commanding the area the sealmen would have to cross to attack them. + +Almost at once came action. One of the surrounding creatures swerved +suddenly up toward the men. Instinctively angling the torp, Ken sent a +nitro-shell at it; and the chance aim was good. The projectile caught +the sealman squarely, and, after the convulsion, it began to drift +downward, its body torn apart. + +"That'll teach you, damn you!" Ken muttered savagely, and, to heighten +the effect he had created, he brought his sights to bear on another +sealman in the circle around him--and fired and killed. + +This sight of sudden death told on the others. They grew obviously +more fearful and gave back, though still forming a solid circle around +the torpoon. The circle was ever thickening and deepening downward as +more of those that the explosion had rendered unconscious returned to +life. + +And then, above, the first man reached the hole, clawed at its rough +edges and levered himself through. + +That was a signal. From somewhere beneath, two brown bodies flashed +upward in attack. Fearing a general rush at any second, Ken fired +twice swiftly. One shell missed, but the other slid to its mark. +Almost alongside its fellow, one of the creatures was shattered and +torn, and that evidently altered the other's intentions, for it +abandoned the attack and sought safety in the mass of its fellows on +the farther side. + +Another respite. Another man through the hole. And but two +nitro-shells left! + + * * * * * + +The deadly circle, like wolves around a lone trapper who crouches +close to his dying fire, pressed in a little; and by their ominous +quietness, by the sight of their eyes all turned in on him, their +concerted inching closer, Ken sensed the nearness of the charge that +would finish him. All this in deep silence, there in the gloomy +quarter-light. He could not yell and brandish his fists at them as the +trapper by the fire might have done to win a few extra minutes. The +only cards he had to play were two shells--and one was needed now! + +He fired it with deliberate, sure aim, and grunted as he saw its +victim convulse and die, with dark blood streaming. Again the swarm +hesitated. + +Ken risked a glance above. Only three men left, he saw; and one was +pulled through the hole as he watched. Below, in one place, several +seal-creatures surged upward. + +"Get back, damn you!" he cursed harshly. "All right--take it! That's +the last!" + +And the last shell hissed out from the gun even as the last man, +above, was pulled through up into the air and safety. + +Ken felt that he had given half his life with that final shell. +Completely surrounded by a hundred or more of the sealmen, he could +not possibly hope to maneuver the torpoon up to the hole in the ice +and leave it, without being overwhelmed. He had held off the swarm +long enough for the others to escape, but for himself it was the end. + +So he thought, and wondered just when that end would come. Soon, he +knew. It would not take them long to overcome their fear when they saw +that he no longer reached out and struck them down in sudden bloody +death. Now it was their turn. + +"Anyway," the torpooner murmured, "I got 'em out. I saved them." + +But had he? Suddenly his mind turned up a dreadful thought. He had +saved them from the sealmen, but they were up on the ice without food. +There had been no time to apportion rations in the submarine; all the +supplies were stacked around him in the torpoon! + +Searching planes would eventually appear overhead, but if he could not +get the food up to the men it meant their death as surely as if they +had stayed locked in the _Peary_! + +But how could he do it without shells, and with that living wall +edging inch by inch upon him, visibly on the brink of rushing him. +Some carried ropes with which they would lash the torpoon down as they +had the others. Must all he and those men had gone through, be in +vain? Must he die--and the others? For certainly without food, those +men above on the lonely ice fields, all of them weakened by the long +siege in the submarine, would perish quickly.... + +And then a faintly possible plan came to him. It involved an attempt +to bluff the seal-creatures. + + * * * * * + +Thirty feet above the lone man in the torpoon was the hole he had +blasted in the ice. He knew that from the cone of light which filtered +down; he did not dare to take his eyes for a second from the creatures +around him, for all now depended on his judging to a fraction just +when the lithe, living wall would leap to overwhelm him. + +Now the torpoon was enclosed by what was more a sphere of brown bodies +than a circle. But it was not a solid sphere. It stretched thinly to +within a few feet of the ice ceiling where, in one place, was the hole +Ken had blown in the ice. + +He began to play the game. He edged the gears into reverse, gently +angled the diving-planes, and slowly the torpoon tilted in response +and began to sink back to the dark sea-floor. + +Motion appeared in the curved facade of sleek brown heads and bodies +in front and to the sides. The creatures behind and below, Ken could +not see; he could only trust to the fear inspired by the damage his +propeller had wreaked on one of them, to hold them back. However, he +could judge the movements of those behind and below by the +synchronized movements of those in front; for the sealmen, in this +tense siege, seemed to move as one--just as they would move as one +when a leader got the courage to charge across the gap to the torpoon. + +In reverse, slowly, the torpoon backed downward. Every minute seemed a +separate eternity of time, for Ken dared not move fast at this +juncture, and he needed to retreat not less than fifty feet. + +Fifty feet! Would they hold off long enough for him to make it? + +Foot by foot the torpoon edged down at her forty-five-degree angle, +and with every foot the watching bodies became visibly bolder. There +was no light inside the torpoon--inner light would decrease the +visibility outside--but Ken knew her controls as does the musician his +instrument. Slowly the propeller whirled over, the torpoon dropped, +slowly the diffused light from the hole above diminished--and slowly +the eager wall of sealmen followed and crept in. + +Twenty-five feet down; and then, after a long time, thirty-five feet, +and forty. Seventy feet up, in all, to the hole in the ice.... + +Ken wanted seventy-five feet, but he could not have it. For the wall +of sleek bodies broke. One or two of the creatures surged forward; +other followed; they were coming! + +The slim torpoon leaped under the unleashed power of her +motors--forward. + + * * * * * + +For one awful moment Ken thought he was finished. The vision of the +hole was obscured by a twisting, whirling maelstrom of bodies, and the +torpoon quivered and shook like a living thing in agony under glancing +blows. + +But then came a patch of light, a pathway of light, leading straight +up at a forty-five-degree angle to the hole in the ice above. + +Sealmen and torpoon had leaped forward at the same moment. Doubtless +the creatures had not expected the shell to move so suddenly and +decisively ahead, so that when it did, those in the van swerved to +escape head-on contact. + +The torpoon gained speed all too slowly for her pilot. It naturally +took time to gain full forward speed from a standing start. But she +moved, and she moved fast, and after her poured the full tide of +sealmen, now that they saw their prey running in retreat. + +From somewhere ahead appeared a rope, noosed to catch the fleeing +prey. It slipped off the side. Another touched the bow, but it too was +thrown off. The torpoon's forward momentum was now great; she was +sweeping up at the full speed Ken had gone back to be able to attain. +He needed full speed! The plan would fail at the last moment without +it! + +Another rope; but it was the seal-creature's last gesture. Through the +side plates of quarsteel the light grew fast; the ice was only ten +feet away; a slight directional correction brought the hole dead +ahead--and at full speed, twenty-four miles an hour, the torpoon +passed through and into the thin air of the world of light and life. + +Right out of the hole, a desperate fugitive from below, she leaped, +her propeller suddenly screaming, and arched high through the air +before she dove with a rending, splintering crash onto the upper side +of the sheet ice. + +And the sun of a cloudless, perfect Arctic day beat down on her; and +men were all around, eagerly reaching to open her entrance port. It +was done. + + * * * * * + +Kenneth Torrance, dazed, battered, hurting in every joint but +conscious, found the torpoon's port open, and felt hands reach in and +clasp him. Wearily he helped them lift him out into the thin sunlight. +Sitting down, slitting his eyes against the sudden glare, he peered +around. + +Captain Sallorsen was beside him, supporting him with one hand and +pounding him on the back with the other; and there in front was the +bearded scientist, Lawson, and the rest of the men. + +Ken took a great gulp of the clean, cold air. + +"Gosh!" was all he could say. "Gosh, that tastes good!" + +"Man, you did it!" shouted Sallorsen. "How, in God's name, I don't +know--but you did it!" + +"He did!" said Lawson. "And he did it all himself. Even to the food, +which should keep us till a plane comes by. If they haven't stopped +searching for us." + +His words reminded Ken of something. + +"Oh, there'll be a plane over," he said. "Forgot to tell you, but I +stole this torpoon--see?--and told the fellows they could come and get +it somewhere right around here." + +Kenneth Torrance grinned, and glanced down at the battered steel shell +which had borne him out of the water below. + +"And here it is," he finished. "A little damaged--but then I didn't +promise it would be as good as new!" + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Under Arctic Ice, by H.G. 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