XXX
The deck glowed lurid in the queer blue-greenish glare of Martianelectro-fuse lights. It was in a bustle of ordered activity. Sometwenty of the crew were scattered about, working in little groups.Apparatus was being brought up from below to be assembled. There was apile of Erentz suits and helmets, of Martian pattern, but still verysimilar to those with which Grantline's expedition was equipped. Therewere giant projectors of several kinds, some familiar to me, others ofa fashion I had never seen before. It seemed there were six or eightof them, still dismantled, with a litter of their attendant batteriesand coils and tube amplifiers.
They were to be mounted here on the deck, I surmised; I saw in thedome side one or two of them already rolled into position.
Anita and I stood outside Potan's cubby, gazing around us curiously.The men looked at us but none of them spoke.
"Let's watch from here a moment," I whispered. She nodded, standingwith her hand on my arm. I felt that we were very small, here in themidst of these seven foot Martian men. I was all in white, the costumeused in the warm interior of Grantline's camp. Bareheaded, white silk_Planetara_ uniform jacket, broad belt and tight-laced trousers. Anitawas a slim black figure beside me, somber as Hamlet, with her paleboyish face and wavy black hair.
The gravity being maintained here on the ship we had found to bestronger than that of the Moon and rather more like Mars.
"There are the heat rays, Gregg."
A pile of them was visible down the deck length. And I saw caskets offragile glass globes, bombs of different styles, hand projectors ofthe paralyzing ray; search beams of several varieties; the Bensoncurve light, and a few side arms of ancient Earth design--swords anddirks, and small bullet projectors.
There seemed to be some mining equipment also. Far along the deck,beyond the central cabin in the open space of the stern, steel railswere stacked; half a dozen tiny-wheeled ore carts; a tiny motor enginefor hauling them and what looked as though it might be the dismemberedsections of an ore chute.
The whole deck was presently strewn with this mass of equipment.
Potan moved about, directing the different groups of workers. The newshad spread that we knew the location of the treasure. The brigandswere jubilant. In a few hours the ship's armament would be ready, andit would advance.
I saw many glances cast out the dome side windows toward the distantplains of the Mare Imbrium. The brigands believed that the Grantlinecamp lay in that direction.
Anita whispered, "Which is their giant electronic projector, Gregg?"
I could see it amidships of the deck. It was already in place. Potanwas there now, superintending the men who were connecting it. The mostpowerful weapon on the ship. It had, Potan said, an effective range ofsome ten miles. I wondered what it would do to a Grantline building!The Erentz double walls would withstand it for a time, I was sure. Butit would blast an Erentz fabric suit, no doubt of that. Like alightning bolt, it would kill--its flashing free stream of electronsshocking the heart, bringing instant death.
I whispered, "We must smash that before we leave! But first turn it onMiko, if he signals now."
I was tensely watchful for that signal. The electronic projectorobviously was not ready. But when it was connected, I must be near it,to persuade its duty man to fire it on Miko. With this done we wouldhave more time to plan our other tasks. I did not think Potan would beready for his attack before another time of sleep here in the ship'sroutine. Things would be quieter then; I would watch my chance to senda signal to Earth, and then we would escape.
With my thoughts roving, we had been standing quietly at the cubbydoor for about fifteen minutes. My hand in my side pouch clutched thelittle bullet projector. The brigands had taken it from me and givenit to Potan. He had placed it on the settle with my Erentz suit; andwhen we gained his confidence he had forgotten it and left it there. Ihad it now, and the feel of its cool sleek handle gave me a measure ofcomfort. Things could go wrong so easily. But if they did, I wasdetermined to sell my life as dearly as possible. And a vague thoughtwas in my mind: I must not use the last bullet. That would be forAnita.
"That electronic projector is remote controlled. Look, Anita, that'sthe signal room over us. The giant projector will be aimed and firedfrom up there."
A thirty foot skeleton tower stood on the deck near us, with a spiralladder leading up to a small, square, steel cubby at the top. Throughthe cubby window I could see instrument panels. A single Martian wasup there; he had called down to Potan concerning the electronicprojector.
The roof of this little tower room was close under the dome--a spaceof no more than four feet. A pressure lock exit in the dome was upthere, with a few steps leading up to it from the roof of the towersignal room.
We could escape that way, perhaps. In the event of dire necessity itmight be possible. But only as a desperate resort, for it would put uson the top of the glassite dome, with a sheer hundred feet or moredown its sleek bulging exterior side, and down the outside bulge ofthe ship's hull, to the rocks below. There might be a spider ladderoutside leading downward, but I saw no evidence of it. If Anita and Iwere forced to escape that way, I wondered how we could manage ahundred foot jump to the rocks, and land safely. Even with the slightgravity of the Moon, it would be a dangerous fall.
"You are Gregg Haljan?"
I stared as one of the brigands, coming up behind, addressed me.
"Yes."
"Commander Potan tells me you were chief navigator of the_Planetara_?"
"Yes."
"You shall pilot us when we advance upon the Grantline camp. I amcontrol-commander here--Brotow, my name."
He smiled. A giant fellow, but spindly. He spoke good English. Heseemed anxious to be friendly.
"We are glad to have you and George Prince's sister with us." He shotAnita an admiring glance. "I will show you our controls, Haljan."
"All right," I said. "Whatever I can do to help...."
"But not now. It will be some hours before we are ready."
I nodded, and he wandered away. Anita whispered: "Did he mean thatsignal room up in the tower? Oh Gregg, maybe it's only the controlroom."
"Suppose we go up and see? Miko's signals might start any minute."
And the electronic projector seemed about ready. It was time for me toact. But a reluctant instinct was upon me. Our Erentz suits were closebehind us in Potan's cubby. I hated to leave them. If anythinghappened, and we had to make a sudden dash, there would be no time togarb ourselves in the suits. To adjust the helmets would be badenough.
I whispered swiftly, "We must get into our suits--find some pretext."I drew her back through the cubby doorway where we would be moresecluded.
"Anita, listen. I've been a fool not to plan our escape morecarefully. We're in too great a danger here!"
Suddenly it seemed to me that we were in desperate plight! Was itpremonition?
"Anita, listen: if anything happens and we have to make a dash--"
"Up through that dome lock, Gregg? It's a manual control; you can seethe levers."
"Yes. It's a manual. But once up there how would we get down?"
She was far calmer than I. "There may be an outside ladder, Gregg."
"I don't think so. I haven't seen it."
"Then we can get out the way they brought us in. The hull port--it's amanual, too."
"Yes, I think I can find our way down through the hull corridors."
"There are guards outside on the rocks."
We had seen them through the dome windows. But there were not many,only two or three. I was armed and a surprise rush would do the trick.
We donned our Erentz suits.
"What will we do with the helmets?" demanded Anita. "Leave them here?"
"No, take them with us. I'm not going to get separated from them!"
"We'll look strange going up to that signal room equipped like this."
"I can't help it, Anita. We'll explain it, somehow."
She stood before me, a queer-looking little
figure in the nowdeflated, bagging suit with her slim neck and head protruding aboveit.
"Carry your helmet, Anita. Ill take mine."
We could adjust the helmets and start the motors all within a fewseconds.
"I'm ready, Gregg."
"Come on, then. Let me go first."
I had the bullet projector in an outer pouch of the suit where I couldinstantly reach it. This was more rational; we had a fighting chancenow. The fear which had swept me began to recede.
"We'll climb the tower to the signal room," I whispered. "Do itboldly."
We stepped from the cubby. Potan was not in sight; perhaps he was onthe further deck beyond the central cabin structure.
On the deck, we were immediately accosted. This was different--ourappearance in the Erentz suits!
"Where are you going?" This fellow spoke in Martian.
I answered in English, "Up there."
He stood before us, towering over me. I saw a group of nearby workersstop to regard us. In a moment we would be causing a commotion, and itwas the last thing I desired.
I said in Martian, "Commander Potan told me, what I wish I can do.From the dome we look around to see where is the Grantline camp fromhere. I am pilot of this ship to go there."
The man who had called himself Brotow passed near us. I appealed tohim.
"We put on our suits. After our experience, we feel safer that way. IfI'm to pilot the ship...."
He hesitated, his glance sweeping the deck as though to ask Potan.Someone said in Martian:
"The Commander is down in the stern storeroom."
It decided Brotow. He waved away the Martian who had stopped me.
"Let them pass."
Anita and I gave him our most friendly smiles.
"Thanks."
He bowed to Anita with a sweeping gesture. "I will show you over thecontrol room presently."
His gaze went to the peak of the bow.
The little hooded cubby there was the control room, then. Satisfactionswept me. Then above us in the tower, must surely be the signal room.Would Brotow follow us up? I hoped not. I wanted to be alone with theduty man up there, giving me a chance to get at the projector controlsif Miko's signal should come.
I drew Anita past Brotow, who had stood aside. "Thanks," I repeated."We won't be long."
We mounted the little ladder.