Part 3 (2/2)
”From the way these chaps fight, it's evident that they have no weapons, other than the bow of their s.h.i.+p, and possibly some short-range ray pistols, or the still more antiquated guns using some form of explosive to expel metal bullets. As soon as the shadow of the cliff throws this section of the crater into darkness, I'm going to do a little exploring, and see if I can't find out where these rats hide, when they're not out in s.p.a.ce. Linet, you throw a line of pickets around the s.h.i.+p; Edwards, get started on repairs, and Erickson, keep on trying to get in touch with our companions.”
Scarcely had he finished speaking when the light began to fade, and in a few minutes it was pitch black. Refusing to take anyone along with him, Holden crept out of the air-lock, and with an occasional glance at the compa.s.s fastened inside his suit, always pointing toward the _San Francisco_, he set out in the general direction of the wrecked s.p.a.ce s.h.i.+ps he had seen piled along the base of the cliff. He made good time, despite the weight of his suit and the poor footing afforded by the loosely piled dust, and finally saw ahead of him the silvery gleam of a s.h.i.+p's side. Afraid to use his light, he crept toward the bow of the craft, past a huge hole, and reached the name-plate. Following the deeply engraved characters, he slowly spelled out the name ”G-L-O-R-,”
his heart gave a great thump. _Gloriana_, the Earth-Mars pa.s.senger transport into which his own Jean had stepped so happily a year previously!
A sudden hope flared up and then died down as he remembered the gaping hole he had just pa.s.sed. The cowards had probably attacked without warning; the terrible cold of outer s.p.a.ce had flooded through the opening made by that sharp-pointed prow,--. He could not bear to carry the image further; with a sob in his throat and murderous hatred in his heart, he continued his search for the pirate stronghold.
Winding his way among other shattered s.h.i.+ps, he came to the base of the towering cliff, and turned to the right along it, finding his way by constantly touching the hard rock with his gloved hand. Suddenly there was a s.p.a.ce where he could touch nothing, then the texture of the material changed.
Carefully s.h.i.+elding the glow, he flashed a light on the wall for a moment. It was metal, not rock! The pirates had walled in a cave with plates from the captured transports; probably they were living within, in all the luxury of their stolen wealth.
A few yards farther on his searching hand touched a seam in the metal, still farther, another, evidently the air-lock through which the pirates took their s.h.i.+p into the cave. Holden sat down to think. At that moment the wall against which he leaned began to move slowly outward! A dim ray of light came from the opening, which, as he turned to look, he saw to be an air-lock. The inner door was closed, obviously someone was expected to enter. He drew a deep breath, clasped his gun firmly in his right hand, and plunged in.
As soon as he entered, the outer door closed; he heard valves click open, air rushed into the chamber, and the inner door slowly opened, revealing a long hall, dark and ominous.
Without removing the helmet of his s.p.a.ce-suit, he started down the hall, but had gone no more than a few steps before he felt a hand on his sleeve, drawing him through a darkened doorway. The door closed, a light flashed on, and before him stood, smiling and happy, his sweetheart, Jean!
With a single movement he flung off his helmet and seized her in his arms. For a short, delicious moment she clung to him, whispering those words that lovers know so well. At last she said, ”We haven't a minute to lose, Jack. Let me tell you all I know about this place.”
”But Jean, how did you get here? How does it happen that you had access to the air-lock?”
”I was captured by these fiends, and am a prisoner, together with about fifteen others, only five of them being men. All the rest were killed, either when the pirates rammed the s.h.i.+ps, or here, when they decided the place was becoming crowded.” Her face paled at the memory of the horrible ma.s.sacres, but she went bravely on.
”We have no s.p.a.ce-suits, and the pirates, of whom there are perhaps seventy-five, let us wander around pretty much as we please. We know of practically everything that goes on. I happened to hear your name mentioned in the phone room the other day, when a spy on your s.h.i.+p sent a message. When the pirates brought their s.h.i.+p in, crippled by the fight, I was sure that you were around somewhere. I have been watching ever since, making use of a sound detector pieced together from some sc.r.a.ps of material I picked up unnoticed.
”There aren't any guards because the gang is busy repairing the _Silver Death_, as they call their s.h.i.+p, preparatory to finis.h.i.+ng the job they started today. Oh, Jack, you must go, now. They may be through at any time. I don't know when I will see you again, if ever, but I couldn't resist talking to you, touching you, just once more.”
”One moment, dear. I have an idea. Is there any compartment, farther back or lower down, where you could gather the prisoners together, and be safe in case the outer wall was broken down?”
”Yes,” she replied breathlessly, ”one of the older, smaller caves is still airtight, and while the gang is busy on the _Silver Death_ we could go there and close the locks. What good would that do, though?
They are certain you can't get in here, or they wouldn't leave the place unguarded. They have your s.h.i.+p surrounded by a wave-proof s.h.i.+eld, so you can't communicate with the others of your fleet, you know.”
”I know that, but I think I can steal a leaf from their own book. Will they all be working, say three hours from now?”
”I think so. Your guns did a great deal of damage, weakening the forward structures of their craft.”
”All right. Get your friends together in the old cave you mentioned, seal it, and then wait till I come back.”
Tenderly he kissed her good-bye, then hastened away, anxious to get his work done before the shadow of the cliff again receded.
Thanking the fates for the good fortune that had saved Jean, and had led her to the air-lock at the moment he was there, he stumbled over the rocks and dust piles until halted by the picket line surrounding the _San Francisco_. He called the men into the s.h.i.+p, and hastened to the pilot room, where Edwards was testing the controls.
”Any luck?”
”Yes, a lot. Can you get the s.h.i.+p in shape to travel in three hours?”
<script>