water and exiles all flying into space. All this she did.Why?"
"Why what?" asked Izak, not comprehending.
"Yes, why what?" repeated Parr. "I can only guess, Izak, and none of myguesses have been worth much lately. Let's go home, and keep an eyepeeled on our neighbors."
* * * * *
The Martians had come again--the same space-patroller, repaired, andtwice as many hands and a new skipper. They carried no Terrestrialexile--for once their errand was different.
Four of them, harnessed into erect human posture, armed and armored,stood around the evening fire in the central clearing of the village nowruled by Varina Pemberton. The skipper was being insistent, but notparticularly deadly.
"We rrecognize that fourr dead among you will ssettle forr one deadMarrtian," he told the gathered exiles. "The morre sso ass you assurreme that the man rressponssible hass been drriven frrom among you. But wemake one demand--the arrmorr taken frrom the body of the dead Marrtian."
"I am sorry about that," the chieftainess replied from her side. "Wedidn't know that you valued it. If we get it back for you--"
"Ssuch action would rreflect favorrably upon you," nodded the Martianskipper. "Get the arrmorr again, and we will rrefrrain frrom punitivemeassurress."
"Why do you want that armor so much?" inquired Shanklin boldly. Hehimself had never thought of it as worth much. He was more satisfied tohave the knife, which he now hid behind him lest the Martians see andclaim. But the skipper only shook his petalled skull.
"It iss no prroblem of yourrss," he snubbed Shanklin. And, to VarinaPemberton: "What time sshall we grrant you? A day? Two dayss?... Comebefore the end of that time and rreporrt to me at the patrrol vessel."
He turned and led his followers back toward the plain where the ship wasparked.
Night had well fallen, and silence hung about the vessel. Only arectangle of soft light showed the open hatchway. The Martian officerled the way thither, ducked his head, entered--
Powerful hairy hands caught and overpowered him. Before he could collecthimself for resistance, other hands had disarmed him and were dragginghim away. His three companions, narrowly escaping the same fate, fellback and drew their guns and ray throwers. A voice warned them sharply:
"Don't fire, any of you. We've got your friends in here, and we've takentheir electro-automatics. Give us the slightest reason, and we'll wipethem out first--you second."
"Who arre you?" shrilled one of the Martians, lowering his weapon.
"My name's Fitzhugh Parr," came back the grim reply. "You framed me intothis exile--it's going to prove the worst day's work you Martianflower-faces ever did. Not a move, any of you! The ship's mine, and I'mgoing to take off at dawn."
The three discomfited hands tramped away again. Inside the control room,Parr spoke to his shaggy followers, who grinned and twinkled like somany gnomes doing mischief.
"They won't dare rush us," he said, "but two of you--Ling and Izak--stayat the door with those guns. Dead sure you can still use 'em?... You,Ruba, come here to the controls. You say you once flew space-craft."
Ruba's broad, coarse hand ruffled the bushy hair that grew on his almostbrowless head. "Once," he agreed dolefully. "Now I--many thing I don'tremember." His face, flat-nosed and blubber-lipped, grew bleak andplaintive as he gazed upon instruments he once had mastered.
"You'll remember," Parr assured him vehemently. "I never flew anythingbut a short-shot pleasure cruiser, but I'm beginning to dope things out.We'll help each other, Ruba. Don't you want to get away from here, gohome?"
"Home!" breathed Ruba, and the ears of the others--pointed, some ofthose ears, and all of them hairy--pricked up visibly at that word.
"Well, there you are," Parr said encouragingly. "Sweat your brains, lad.We've got until dawn. Then away we go."
"You will never manage," slurred the skipper from the corner where theMartian captives, bound securely, sprawled under custody of a beast-manwith a lever bar for a club. "Thesse animalss have not mental powerr--"
"Shut up, or I'll let that guard tap you," Parr warned him. "They hadmental power enough to fool you all over the shop. Come on, Ruba. Isn'tthis the rocket gauge? Please remember how it operates!"
The capture of the ship had been easy, so easy. The guard had been wellkept only until the skipper and his party had gone out of sight towardthe human village. Nobody ever expected trouble from beast-men, and thewatch on board had not dreamed of a rush until they were down andsecure. But this--the rationalization of intricate space-machinery--wasby contrast a doleful obstacle. "Please remember," Parr pleaded withRuba again.
And so for hours. And at last, prodded and cajoled and bullied, thedegenerated intelligence of Ruba had partially responded. His clumsypaws, once so skilful, coaxed the mechanism into life. The blastsemitted preliminary belches. The whole fabric of the ship quivered, likea sleeper slowly wakening.
"Can you get her nose up, Ruba?" Parr found himself able to inquire atlast.
"Huh, boss," spoke Ling from his watch at the door. "Come. I see whitething."
Parr hurried across to look.
The white thing was a tattered shirt, held aloft on a stick. From thedirection of the village came several figures, Martian and Terrestrial.Parr recognized the bearer of the flag of truce--it was VarinaPemberton. With her walked the three Martian hands whom he had warnedoff, their tentacles lifted to ask for parley, their weapons sheathed attheir belts. Sadau was there, and Shanklin.
"Ready, guns," Parr warned Ling and Izak. "Stand clear of us, outthere!" he yelled. "We're going to take off."
"Fitzhugh Parr," called back Varina Pemberton, "you must not."
"Oh, must I not?" he taunted her. "Who's so free with her orders? I'vegot a gun myself this time. Better keep your distance."
The others stopped at the warning, but the girl came forward. "Youwouldn't shoot a woman," she announced confidently. "Listen to me."
Parr looked back to where Ruba was fumbling the ship into more definiteaction. "Go on and talk," he bade her. "I give you one minute."
"You've got to give up this foolish idea," she said earnestly. "It can'tsucceed--even if you take off."
"No if about it. We're doing wonders. Make your goodbyes short. I wishyou joy of this asteroid, ma'am."
"Suppose you do get away," she conceded. "Suppose, though it's a small,crowded ship, you reach Earth and land safely. What then?"
"I'll blow the lid off this dirty Martian Joke," he told her. "Exhibitthese poor devils, to show what the Martians do to Terrestrials theyconvict. And then--"
"Yes, and then!" she cut in passionately. "Don't you see, Parr?Relations between Mars and Earth are at breaking point now. They havebeen for long. The Martians are technically within their rights whenthey dump us here, but you'll be a pirate, a thief, a fugitive fromjustice. You can cause a break, perhaps war. And for what?"
"For getting away, for giving freedom to my only friends on thisasteroid," said Parr.
"Freedom?" she repeated. "You think they can be free on Earth? Can theyface their wives or mothers as they are now--no longer men?"
"Boss," said Ling suddenly and brokenly, "she tell true. No. I won't gohome."
It was like cold water, that sudden rush of ghastly truth upon Parr. Thegirl was right. His victory would be the saddest of defeats. He lookedaround him at the beast-men who had placed themselves under hiscontrol--what would happen to them on Earth? Prison? Asylum? _Zoo_?...
"Varina Pemberton," he called, "I think you win."
The hairy ones crowded around him, sensing a change in plan. He spokequickly:
"It's all off, boys. Get out, one at a time, and rush away for cover.Nobody will hurt you--and we'll be no worse off than we were." He raisedhis voice again: "If I clear out, will we be left alone?"
"You must give back that armor," she told him. "The Martians insist."
"It's a deal." He stripped the stuff from him and threw it across thefloor to lie beside the bound prisoners. "I'm trusting
you, VarinaPemberton!" he shouted. "We're getting out."
They departed at his orders, all of them. Ling and Izak went last,dropping the stolen guns they had held so unhandily. Parr waited for allof them to be gone, then he himself left the ship.
At once bullets began to whicker around him. He dodged behind the ship,then ran crookedly for cover. By great good luck, he was not hit.