The Revolt of the Star Men by Raymond Z. Gallun (most inspirational books of all time txt) 📖

But the driver twisted levers with a quick jerk, and the luckless riflemen found themselves facing four streams of steel. Those that could, darted out of range and renewed the attack from a different angle.

Frequently, throughout the battle, Shelby had wondered what had happened to Hekalu Selba and the Atomic Ray. Why wasn't he on hand to assist his ally, the Black Emperor? Oh, well, regardless of whether the Martian was there or not the outcome would evidently be the same—only now it would be more dragged out.

The Earthian was surprised therefore, when suddenly the efforts of the enemy to exterminate them, which had been so intense in the brief moments since they had closed, suddenly lessened. Alkebarians were darting hastily toward the rear. Their actions did not suggest flight; it seemed that they were going to meet a new and more terrible enemy. The rebels could wait.

And the people of the rebel chief for the moment did not pursue—did not even fire. For they too saw! To the rear, in the center of Alkebar's horde, came the dazzling flares of explosions. So many and so close together were they, that they looked like a titanic conflagration of green flame. Against the light, the silhouettes of confused and bewildered space riders careened, like frightened pollywogs. The holocaust moved—swung. It was like a tapered column of fire veiled by a faint bluish haze.

The Earthians, Telaba, and the two remaining Space Men, forgetful of everything else, were staring in awed wonder at the phenomenon through the forward observation bay. It was Shelby who found the first part of the explanation.

"It's the Atomic Ray!" he almost shrieked. "Freeing the atomic energy in the materials that make up the bodies of Alkebar's men—literally causing their flesh and bones to explode! But how—what the devil—!"

"Look!" cried Jan. She pointed far up over their heads to where the cone of faintly bluish light swung, free from the milling horde. Up and up to its apex, and there hung what appeared to be a tiny cocoon of burnished silver.

The girl peered through her binoculars for a long moment. "I see the name. It is the Selba," she said. "Hekalu has made a mistake—he's attacking the wrong force! Or—or some ally of ours has gained control of the ship!" she hazarded.

"No time to make guess now," said Telaba. "To fight, much better." He had returned to the signaling mechanism, and was working it with cool efficiency, rallying his battered forces.

Like tigers they fell upon the Alkebarians, shattering them out of existence with a steady storm of rifle bullets. They met with only a weak resistance for the foe seemed to realize that the fates had played them false. The blue ray had been their promise, and now, like the sword of their ancient god of destruction, it was weaving calmly this way and that, snuffing them into nothingness. The Black Emperor's horde was dissolving, scattering.

Battalions of terrified Space Men poured past the rebel chieftain's car, shooting only hurried and ineffective volleys at their enemies, who pressed fiercely upon them. And never did Jan and Shelby miss a chance to spray them with searing bursts of machine-gun fire.

There was a lull. The Earthians took the opportunity to look up at the angel of death that was the Selba, far above. Most of Alkebar's huge army had already perished, or had dispersed in flight into the desert of space from which it had been recruited. But that the space ship would presently be engaged in a serious fight was evident.

A determined force which must have numbered a hundred thousand, was hurtling up at it, surrounding the craft with a halo of bursting torpedoes. At the head of the body of Space Men was a huge beast bearing on its back a car similar to Telaba's. Veri-colored signal stars spurted from it. Alkebar himself must be in it directing operations!

Coolly the guiding hand aboard the Selba was swinging his dreadful weapon this way and that, annihilating the attackers as one might annihilate a swarm of mosquitoes with a blowtorch. Half of them had already been reduced to those basic, intangible vibrations which constitute all substance. It was terrible, it was glorious; but what could it all mean? Hekalu's ship!

The still formidable remnants of the vengeance squadron was seeking to close in—to grapple with the vessel. The Selba was trying to dart out of their way, but the speed of the Space Men, a gift of Nature, was greater than that of this fastest ship designed by man. Grimly, in the face of almost certain death, they kept on. A score or so succeeded in landing on the curving hull, and, like leeches they clung to it. The Atomic Ray arched angrily, cutting a deep swath through those who still sought a hold.

And then the gleaming form of the Selba was completely hidden by the swarm of enraged horrors that poured over it. The Atomic Ray was snuffed out. The beholders saw the air lock being pried open, and the Space Men crowding into the interior of the craft. For a second the Selba wobbled crazily, and then her rocket motors ceased to flame.

"What are we waiting for? We have friends up there!" Jan cried.

Telaba flashed his orders, and the entire cavalcade charged toward the vessel, their guns spewing flame.

It was only a matter of a minute or so before that hurtling torrent of rebels had swept the Alkebarians from their prey. Those of the Black Emperor's men who had forced their way into the ship managed to hold the entrance for a short time, but under the urgings of their intrepid chief, the zealous rebels shot and hewed their enemies down as though they had been paper marionettes. The way was clear.

Telaba waved an order to his driver, and the space beast drew up alongside the Selba. Expectantly eager, the Earthians clambered aboard, followed by the chief.

The ship was a shambles. Its corridors were littered with bodies of Space Men who wore on their breasts the red circle which signified loyalty to the Black Emperor. Telaba's followers had done well.

The three made their way to the control room. Intuitively they had sensed what they would find there, and so, they were not surprised at what they saw—wreckage and the carcasses of Alkebar's warriors. The Martian had put up a stiff fight.

Shelby bent over the armored form of Akar Hekalu Selba which was sprawling on the floor, beside the pilot seat. A gaping hole in the tough metal plating under his right arm, and a thin trickle of blood, told clearly what had happened. "They got him," the Earthman muttered. "But why?"

Jan's eyes had wandered to the narrow desk before the pilot seat. There were the instruments and devices by means of which the ship was controlled, and there was the lever which had moved the ray projector in its mounting just beneath the nose of the craft. A calculating pad and a stylus were lying on the desk.

Something was written on the pad—a message. She called to Shelby, and together they read the brief, hastily scrawled note. It was in English:

"To Janice Darell and Austin Shelby, Greeting. Alkebar is breaking into the ship, and Telaba is coming. You will be with him, I know. From among my enemies I have chosen my friends. A man must have friends, and traitors do not serve. Forgive me for stealing your glory, Mr. Shelby. I shall be grateful. Sidi Yadi, Hekalu Selba, Akar."

Shelby looked at Jan and then at Telaba who was standing close beside them. "So that's it," he said slowly. "Nobody is totally bad."

"Not even Hekki," Jan put in. A hint of a wistful smile flickered about her lips. "I guess it's the end now," she went on. "A glorious adventure. Back to Earth!" Her voice had taken on a dreamy exultant quality.

"The end, Jan?" Austin asked. "Haven't you forgotten something?"

She looked puzzled, and then she laughed a brief gay little laugh which made roguish dimples twinkle in her cheeks. Even her fantastic attire could not hide her beauty. "You ridiculous old dumb-bell! Of course it isn't the end—just the beginning—with you!"

It was a considerable time before Shelby was able to repair the Selba sufficiently so that she could get underway for Mars but the task was finished at last. Escorted by the rebel chief's fierce hordesmen, they set out for the Red Planet.

Somehow, snatches of the ancient Bedouin song tinkled in Shelby's mind. He had read old books. "Across the desert I come to thee, On a stallion shod with fire...."

That did not quite fit the situation, for Jan was with him. But his steed, the Selba, was truly shod with fire. The rocket nozzles—and damaged though she was, she behaved like a thoroughbred. And out there in the void beside the ship—what were those shapes?—bizarre, impossible, yet real—real.

In docks scattered over Earth and Mars, battleships of space and their crews wait expectantly for an alarm that may never come. Telescopes comb the sky. Out there the Star People, new arrivals in the solar system, are shifting, moving about restlessly. But the planets feel secure. Their fleets could cope with the Space Men, were they a hundred times more numerous. And once in a while, on the desolate Sahara, or Mohave or Taraal, shadows come, settling down like flecks of darkness from the midnight heaven. They are Telaba's and Ankova's people. For a while—a day perhaps—they stay, bartering their exotic treasures for human wares. Then silently, mysteriously, they are gone, into the night....

THE END