Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Astounding Stories of Super-Science, May, 1930 by Various (novels for teenagers TXT) 📖
- Author: Various
Book online «Astounding Stories of Super-Science, May, 1930 by Various (novels for teenagers TXT) 📖». Author Various
It seemed to me suddenly that we were in desperate plight. Was it premonition?
"Anita, listen: if anything happens and we have to make a dash—"
"Up through that dome-lock, Gregg?[218] It's a manual control; you can see the levers."
"Yes. It's a manual. But up there—how would we get down?"
She was far calmer than I. "There may be an outside ladder, Gregg."
"I don't think so. I haven't seen it."
"Then we can get out the way they brought us in. The hull-porte—it's a manual, too."
"Yes, I think I can find our way down through the hull corridors. I mean, for a quick run. If we have to run, you stay close behind me. I've this bullet projector, and evidently there aren't many men in the lower corridors."
"There are guards outside on the rocks."
We had seen them through the dome windows. But there were not many—only two or three. A surprise rush at them would turn the trick.
e donned our Erentz suits.
"What will we do with the helmets?" Anita demanded. "Leave them here?"
"No—take them with us. I'm not going to get separated from them; it's too dangerous."
"We'll look strange going up to that signal room equipped like this," she commented.
"I can't help it. We'll figure out something to explain it."
She stood before me, a queer-looking little figure in the now deflated, bagging suit with her slim neck and head protruding above the metal circle of its collar.
"Carry your helmet, Anita. I'll take mine."
We could adjust the helmets and start the Erentz motors all within a few seconds.
"I'm ready, Gregg."
"Come on, then. Let me go first."
I had the bullet projector in an outer pouch of the suit where I could instantly reach it. This was more rational: we had a fighting chance now. The fear which had swept me so suddenly began to recede. I was calm.
"We'll climb the tower to the signal room," I whispered. "Do it boldly."
We stepped from the cubby. Potan was not in sight; he was on the further deck beyond the central cabin structure perhaps, or had gone below.
On the deck, we were immediately accosted. This was different—our appearance in the Erentz suits!
"Where are you going?"
This fellow spoke in Martian. I answered in English.
"Up there."
e stood before us, towering over me. I saw a group of nearby workers stop to regard us. In a moment we would be causing a commotion, and it was the last thing I desired.
I said in Martian, "Commander Potan told me, what I wish I can do. From the dome we look around—see where is the Grantline camp—I am pilot of this ship to go there."
The man who had called himself Brotow passed near us. I appealed to him.
"We put on our suits. I thought we might go up on the dome for a minute and look around. If I'm to pilot the ship...."
He hesitated, his glance sweeping the deck as though to ask Potan. Someone said in Martian:
"The commander is down in the stern storeroom."
It decided Brotow. He waved away the Martian who had stopped me.
"Let them alone."
Anita and I gave him our most friendly smiles.
"Thanks."
He bowed to Anita with a sweeping gesture. "I will show you over the control room presently."
His gaze went to the peak of the bow. The little hooded cubby there was the control room. Satisfaction swept me. Then this, above us in the tower, must surely be the signal room. Would Brotow follow us up? I hoped not. I wanted to be alone with the[219] duty-man up there, giving me a chance to get at the projector controls if Miko's signal should come.
I drew Anita past Brotow, who had stood aside. "Thanks," I repeated. "We won't be long."
We mounted the little ladder.
CHAPTER XXXI In the Tower Cubby
urry, Anita!"
I feared that Potan might come up from the hull at any moment and stop us. The duty-man over us gazed down, his huge head and shoulders blocking the small signal room window. Brotow called up in Martian, telling him to let us come. He scowled, but when we reached the trap in the room floor-grid, we found him standing aside to admit us.
I flung a swift glance around. It was a metallic cubby, not much over fifteen feet square, with an eight-foot arched ceiling. There were instrument panels. The range-finder for the giant projector was here; its little telescope with the trajectory apparatus and the firing switch were unmistakable. And the signalling apparatus was here! Not a Martian set, but a fully powerful Botz ultra-violet helio sender with its attendant receiving mirrors. The Planetara had used the Botz system, so I was thoroughly familiar with it. I saw, too, what seemed to be weapons: a row of small fragile glass globes, hanging on clips along the wall—bombs, each the size of a man's fist. And a broad belt with bombs in its padded compartments.
My heart was pounding as my first quick glance took in these details. I saw also that the room had four small oval window openings. They were breast-high above the floor; from the deck below I knew that the angle of vision was such that the men down there could not see into this room except to glimpse its upper portion near the ceiling. And the helio set was banked on a low table near the floor.
In a corner of the room a small ladder led through a ceiling trap to the cubby roof. This upper trap was open. Four feet above the room-roof was the arch of the dome, with the entrance to the upper exit-lock directly above us. The weapons and the belt of bombs were near this ascending ladder, evidently placed here as equipment for use from the top of the dome.
turned to the solitary duty-man. I must gain his confidence at once. Anita had laid her helmet aside. She spoke first.
"We were with Set Miko," she said smilingly, "in the wreck of the Planetara. You heard of it? We know where the treasure is."
This duty-man was a full seven feet tall, and the most heavy-set Martian I had ever seen. A tremendous, beetling-browed, scowling fellow. He stood with hands on his hips, his leather-garbed legs spread wide; and as I fronted him I felt like a child. He was silent, glaring down at me as I drew his attention from Anita.
"You speak English? We are not skilled with Martian."
I wondered if at the next time of sleep this fellow would be on duty here. I hoped not; it would not be easy to trick him and find an opportunity to flash a signal. But that task was some hours away as yet; I would worry about it when the time came. Just now I was concerned with Miko and his little band, who at any moment might arrive in sight. If we could persuade this scowling duty-man to turn the projector on them....
He answered me in ready English:
"You are the man Gregg Haljan? And this is the sister of George Prince—what do you want up here?"
"I am a navigator. Brotow wants me to pilot the ship when we advance to attack Grantline."
"This is not the control room."
"No, I know it isn't."
I put my helmet carefully on the floor-grid beside Anita's. I straight[220]ened to find the brigand gazing at her. He did not speak; he was still scowling. But in the dim blue glow of the cubby I caught the look in his eyes.
said hastily, "Grantline knows your ship has landed here on Archimedes. His camp is off there on the Mare Imbrium. He sent up a signal—you saw it, didn't you?—just before Miss Prince and I came aboard. He was trying to pretend that he was your Earth-party, Miko and Coniston."
"Why?"
The fellow turned his scowl on me, but Anita brought his gaze back to her. She put in quickly:
"Grantline, as Brother always said, has no great cunning. I believe he's planning now to creep up on us, catch us unaware by pretending that he is Miko."
"If he does that," I said, "we will turn this electronic projector on him and annihilate him. You have its firing mechanism here."
"Who told you so?" he shot at me.
I gestured. "I see it here. It's obvious. I'm skilled at trajectory-firing. If Grantline appears down there now, I'll help you—"
"Is it connected?" Anita demanded boldly.
"Yes," he said. "You have on your Erentz suits: are you going to the dome-roof? Then go."
But that was what we did not want to do. Anita's glance seemed to tell me to let her handle this. I turned toward one of the cubby windows; she said sweetly:
"Are you in charge of this room? Show me how that projector is operated; it will be invincible against the Grantline camp."
"Yes."
had my back to them for a moment. Through the breast-high oval I could see down across the deck-space and out through the side dome windows. And my heart suddenly leaped into my throat. It seemed that down there in the Earthlit shadows, where the spreading base of the giant crater joined the plains, a light was bobbing. I gazed, stricken. Miko's lights? Was he advancing, preparing to signal? I tried to gauge the distance; it was not over two miles from here.
Or was it not a light at all? With the naked eye, I could not be sure. Perhaps there was a telescopic finder here in the cubby....
I was subconsciously aware of the voices of Anita and the duty-man behind me. Then abruptly I heard Anita's low cry. I whirled around.
The giant Martian had gathered her into his huge arms, his heavy-jowled gray face with a leering grin close to hers!
He saw me coming. He held her with one arm: his other flung at me, caught me, knocked me backward. He rasped:
"Get out of here! Go up to the dome, leave us."
Anita was silently struggling with her little hands at his thick throat. His blow flung me against a settle. But I held my feet. I was partly behind him. I leaped again, and as he tried to disengage himself from Anita to front me, her clutching fingers impeded him.
My bullet projector was in my hand. But in that second as I leaped, I had the sense to realize I should not fire it and with its noise alarm the ship. I grasped its barrel, reached upward and struck with its heavy metal butt. The blow caught the Martian on the skull, and simultaneously my body struck him.
We went down together, falling partly upon Anita. But the giant had not cried out, and as I gripped him now, I felt his body limp. I lay panting. Anita squirmed silently from under us. Blood from the giant's head was welling out, hot and sticky against my face as I lay sprawled on him.
cast him off. He was dead, his fragile Martian skull split open by my blow.[221]
There had been no alarm. The slight noise we made had not been heard down on the busy deck. Anita and I crouched by the floor. From the deck all this part of the room could not be seen.
"Dead!"
"Oh, Gregg—"
It forced our hand. I could not wait now for Miko to come. But I could flash the Earth signal now, and then we would have to make our run to escape.
Abruptly I remembered that light down at the crater-base! I kept Anita out of sight on the floor and went cautiously to a window. The deck was in turmoil with brigands moving about excitedly. Not because of what had happened in our tower signal room; they were unaware of that.
Miko's signals were showing! I could see them now plainly, down at the crater-base. A group of hand-lights and a small waving helio-beam.
And they were being answered from the ship! Potan was on the deck—a babble of voices, above which his rose with roars of command. At one of the dome windows a brigand with a hand search-beam was sending its answering light. And I saw that Potan was working over a deck telescope-finder.
It had all come so suddenly that I was stunned. But I did not wait to read the signals. I swung back at Anita.
"It's Miko! And they are answering him! Get your helmet; I'll try firing the projector."
Or would I instead try to send a
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