Part 56 (1/2)

”No!”

”Going--back to Mars--to rest with the fire-makers--where I came from. I was thinking--maybe you would kiss me, Gregg?”

Anita gently pushed me down. I pressed the white, faintly smiling lips with mine. She sighed, and it ended with a rattle in her throat.

”Thank you--Gregg--closer--I can't talk so loudly--”

One of her gloved hands struggled to touch me, but she had no strength and it fell back. Her words were the faintest of whispers:

”There was no use living--without your love. But I want you to see--now--that a Martian girl can die with a smile--”

Her eyelids fluttered down; it seemed that she sighed and then was not breathing. But on her livid face the faint smile still lingered, to show me how a Martian girl could die.

We had forgotten for the moment where we were. As I glanced up I saw through the inner panel, past the secondary lock, that the hull's corridor was visible. And along its length a group of Martians was advancing! They saw us, and came running.

”Anita! Look! We've got to get out of here!”

The secondary lock was open to the corridor. We jammed on our helmets.

The unhelmeted brigands by then were fumbling at the inner panel. I pulled at the lever of the outer panel. The brigands were hurrying, thinking that they could be in time to stop me. One of the more cautious fumbled with a helmet.

”Anita, run! Try and keep your feet.”

I slid the outer panel and pushed at Anita. Simultaneously the brigands opened the inner port.

The air came with a tempestuous rush. A blast through the inner port--through the small pressure lock--a wild rush, out to the airless Moon. All the air in the s.h.i.+p madly rus.h.i.+ng to escape....

Like feathers, we were blown with it. I recall an impression of the hurtling brigand figures and swift flying rocks under me. A silent crash as I struck.

Then soundless, empty blackness.

x.x.xVIII

”Is he conscious? We'd better take him back: get his helmet off.”

”It's over. We can get back to the camp now. Venza dear, we've won--it's over.”

”He hears us!”

”Gregg!”

”He hears us. He'll be all right!”

I opened my eyes, I lay on the rocks. Over my helmet, other helmets were peering, and faint, familiar voices mingled with the roaring in my ears.