“They had it here-!”
Raf saw what Soriki meant by that outburst. Destruction had struck. He had seen the atomic ruins of his own world, those which were free enough from radiation to explore. But he had never seen anything like these chilling scars. In long strips the very stone which provided foundation for the tiered city had been churned and boiled, had run .in rivulets of lava down to the sea, enclosing narrow tongues of still untouched structures. The fire whip the globe had used, magnified to some infinitely greater extent-? It could be.
The alien at his side pressed tightly against the windshield gazing down at the ruins. And now he mouthed a gabble of words which was echoed by his fellow sitting with Soriki. Their excitement must mean that this was their goal, Raf slacked speed, waiting for the globe to point a way to a landing.
But to his surprise the alien ship shot forward inland. The long day was almost over as they came to a second city with a river knotting a ribbon through .its middle. Here were no traces of the fury which had laced the seaport with havoc. This collection of buildings seemed whole and perfect.
There was, oddly enough, no landing strip within the city. The globe coasted over the rough oval and came down in open fields to the west. It was a maneuver which Raf copied, though he first dropped a flare as a precaution and brought the flyer down in its red glare, with the warrior expressing shrill disapproval.
“I don’t think they like fireworks,” Soriki remarked.
Raf snorted. “So they don’t like fireworks! Well, I don’t like crack-ups, and I’m the pilot!” But he didn’t believe that the com-tech was really protesting. Soriki had been very quiet since they had witnessed the attack on the island.
“Grim-looking place,” was his second comment as they touched ground.
Since Raf privately had held that opinion of all the alien settlements he had so far seen, he agreed. Their two alien passengers were out of the flitter as soon as he opened the bubble shield. And as they stood by the Terran flyer, they held their weapons ready, facing out into the dusk as if they half expected trouble. After the earlier episode that day, Raf did not wonder at their preparedness. Terror begets terror, and ruthlessness arouses retaliation in kind.
“Kurbi! Soriki!” Hobart’s voice sounded out of the shadows. “Stay where you are for the present.”
Soriki settled deeper in his seat. “He doesn’t have to tell me to brake jets,” he muttered. “I like it here-“
Raf did not need to echo that. He had a strong surmise that had he been tempted to roam away from the flitter the move would not have been encouraged by the alien guardsmen. If this was their treasure city, they would not welcome any independent investigation by strangers.
When the captain joined them, he was accompanied by the officer who had first shown Raf the globe. And the warrior was either disturbed or angry, for he was talking in a steady stream and his hands were whirling in explanatory gestures.
“They didn’t like that flare,” Hobart remarked. But there was no reproof in his words. As a spacer pilot he knew that Raf had only done what duty demanded. “We’re to remain here-for the night.”
“Where’s Lablet?” Soriki wanted to know.
“He’s staying with Yussoz, the alien commander. He thinks he has the language problem about solved.”
“Good enough.” Soriki pulled out his bed roll. “We’re out of touch with the ship-“
There was a second of silence, unduly prolonged it seemed to Raf. Then Hobart spoke:
“We couldn’t expect to keep in call forever. The best com has its range. When did you lose contact?”
“Just before these wrapped-up heroes played with fire back there. I gave the boys all I knew up until then. They know we were headed west, and they had us beamed as long as they could.”
So it wasn’t too bad, thought Raf. But he didn’t like it; even with that mitigating factor. To all purposes the four
Terrans were now surrounded by some twenty times their number, in an unknown country, out of all communication with the rest of their kind. It could add up to disaster.
9
SEA GATE
“WHAT IS IT?” Dalgard asked his question as Sssuri, his attention still on their back trail, stole along cautiously on a retracing of their path.
But that retreat ended abruptly with the merman plastered against the wall, his whole shadowy form a tense warning which stopped Dalgard short. In that moment the answer flashed from mind to mind.
“There are those which follow-“
“Snake-devils? Those Others?” The colony scout supplied the only two explanations he had, sending his own thought out questing. But as usual he could not hope to equal the more sensitive merman whose race had always used that form of communication.
“Those who have long haunted the darkness,” was the only reply he could get.
But Sssuri’s actions were far more indicative of danger. For the merman turned and caught at Dalgard, pulling the larger colonist along a step or two with the urgency of his grip.
“We cannot return this way-and we must travel fast!”
For Sssuri who would face and had faced up to a snake devil with a spear his sole weapon, this timidity was new. Dalgard was wise enough to accept his verdict of the wisdom of flight. Together they ran along the underground corridor, soon putting a mile between them and the point where the merman had first taken alarm.
“From what do we flee?” As the merman began to slacken pace, Dalgard sent that query.
“There are those who live in this darkness. By one, or by two, we could speedily remove them from life. But they hunt in packs and they are as greedy for the kill as are the snake devils scenting meat. Also they are intelligent. Once, long before the days of burning, they served Those Others as hunters of game. And Those Others tried to make them ever more intelligent and crafty so they might be sent to hunt without a huntsman. At last they grew too knowing for their masters. Then Those Others, realizing their menace, tried to kill them all with traps and tricks. But only the most stupid and the slowest were so disposed of. The others withdrew into underground ways such as this, venturing forth only in the dark of night.”
“Put if they are intelligent,” countered the scout, “why can they not be reached by the mind touch?”
“Trough the years they have developed their own ways of thought. And these are not the simple creatures of the sun, or such as the runners. Once they were taught to answer only to
Those Others. Now they answer only to each other. But” he spread out his hands in one of his quick, nervous gestures
= “to those who are cornered by one of their packs, they are sudden death!”
Since they could not, by Sssuri’s reckoning, turn back, there was only one course before them, to follow the passage they had chanced upon. The merman was certain that it under ran the river and that eventually they would reach the sea-unless some side turn before that point would make them free in the countryside once more.
Dalgard doubted if it had ever been a well-used way. And the presence of earth falls here and there, over which they stumbled and clawed their way, led him to consider the wisdom of keeping -on to what might be a dead end. But his trust in Sssuri’s judgment was great, and as the merman plowed forward with every appearance of confidence, he continued to trot along without complaint.
They snatched moments of rest, taking turns at guard. But the walls about them were so unchanging that it was hard to measure time or distance. Dalgard chewed at his emergency rations, a block of dried meat and fruit pounded together to an almost rocklike consistency, and tried to make the crumbs he sucked loose satisfy his growing hunger.
The passageway was growing damper; water trickled down the walls and gathered in fetid pools on the floor. Dalgard’s dislike of the place grew. His shoulders hunched involuntarily as he strode along, for his imagination pictured the rock above them giving away to dump tons of the oily river water down to engulf them. But though Sssuri avoided splashing through the pools wherever he might, he did not appear to find anything upsetting about the moisture.
At last the human could stand it no longer. “How much farther to the sea?” he asked without any hope of a real answer.
As he had expected him to do, Sssuri shrugged. “We should be close. But having never trod this way before, how can I tell you?”
Once more they rested, choosing a stretch which was reasonably dry, munching their dried food and drinking sparingly from the stoppered duocorn horns which swung from their belts. A man would have to be dying of thirst, Dalgard thought, before he would palm up any of the stagnant water from the passage pools.