Alcatraz of the Starways (2024)

"Purple!" Mark Denning almost sobbed. "A purple Josmian!" Forgettingthe sweat in his eyes and the insufferable heat about him, hisclutching hand held up the mud-dripping globe the size of a baseball,iridescent in the Venusian night.

The phosphorescent glow that bathed the endless swamp in ghastlygreen, struck myriad shimmering rainbows from the dark sphere.

"Two more of those and you're free, lower species!" It was an ironicvoice, with the resonant sweetness of a cello in its depths, thatissued from the haze nearby.

Frantically Mark reached down into the tepid mud, where he had felt theswaying stems of Josmian lilies whip about his knees. Another globe methis hand. He tugged and twisted until it tore from the stem, but whenhe raised it to the surface, it was white.

Immediately it began to shrink. It would continue until it became thesize of a small marble, when it would either rot, as the majority did,or begin to crystallize into a priceless Venusian pearl. But thathappened only with one in ten thousand. It was different with thepurple ones, they never failed to crystallize into a violet globe ofunearthly beauty and incalculable value. Less than a hundred of thepurple had ever been found. They were so rare that any prisoner whoharvested three, was granted freedom.

"Pretty!" the cello voice taunted, behind Mark. "In a few hours it willbe rotting and stinking to high heaven!"

"Cut it, Aladdo!" Mark growled. He tossed the white Josmian intothe basket he pushed before him across the mud; the purple one heplaced carefully in his trouser pocket. He pushed on, searching thepungent-smelling mud that came up to his thighs.

Suddenly the warm ooze rose to his waist and crept inexorably higher.For an instant, Mark clawed at the mud. It was surging up to hisarmpits now, as he floundered in the tenacious sink hole. He shook hishead to get the sweat out of his eyes and the numbness from his brain.He stopped thrashing about, for he knew that was futile. He threw backhis head and gave a shout in which was more than a note of sheer terror.

At least a dozen men were moving near him, waist deep in the Venusianmud. At his cry, they stopped and stared at him dully, fatalistically.They could easily have formed a chain and pulled him out, but nonemoved. They'd seen too many repetitions of this tragedy to careanymore. It happened every day; a new man, a little careless, caught inone of the deadly sink holes ... it happened even to the veterans ofthis Venusian prison camp, sometimes deliberately, as they became wearyof a hopeless existence.

The mud was almost to Mark's chin now; only his forearms and his blondhead were visible. Hatred came into his eyes as he glared at the menabout him, most of them Earthmen like himself, who would not help him.Again he struggled, tried to hoist himself upward.

"Don't struggle, you fool!" came the resonant voice from behind him."Be still; every movement helps to sink you!" Then, in an undertone,"No human was ever able to think clearly, anyway."

Mark smiled despite his predicament, then he urged: "HurryAladdo—hurry!"

Over the expanse of hellish, green-lit muck, a tiny figure inchedtoward Mark. Scarcely five feet in height, Aladdo's arms and legs werenow outspread, to distribute his weight over as much area as possible.The rescuing figure was like an imp from hades, clad as it was in atight-fitting garment of metallic blue, which even the clinging mudfailed to dull; while membraneous wings of a lighter hue began at itswrists, joined to the entire under-arm and the sides of its body allthe way to its feet, much as the wings of a bat.

Swiftly it crawled and wriggled toward the Earthman, and without a wordgrasped him with both tiny hands by the arms. It braced itself on itswings, and heaved. A few inches of Mark Denning emerged from the mudwith a sucking sound. Again Aladdo made a prodigious effort, and againthe Earthman came up from the mud a few more inches.

The winged figure held him there, while it gasped for breath. "Now,spread your arms on the mud and stiffen your neck, sub-species!" Thewinged one laughed.

Swiftly it cupped its seemingly fragile hands under Mark's chin, andslowly but surely began to pull him back and out. Most of an hour wentby before the Earthman's superb torso had emerged and was able to helpthe rescuer. At last he was out of the sink hole, panting, almostexhausted and half nude.

He still found strength to feel at his trouser pocket, and wasgratified to find his purple Josmian still there. It was now about halfits original size, and soon would cease its shrinkage and begin tocrystallize.

Mark gazed into the oval face, panting next to his. The heavily fringedeyes were closed as it breathed in labored gasps, and the slender,fragile form shook now and then with nervous spasms. Mark never ceasedto wonder at the beauty of the Venusians, nor at their absolute andmaddening conviction that theirs was the only true intelligence inthe Universe. Now to these qualities Mark added that of indomitablecourage, as he gazed at Aladdo and marvelled.

"Well, Aladdo, thanks seems sort of a stupid word in a case like this;I owe you my life. I don't know how I'll ever repay the debt...."Mark's eyes roved over the weird scene, taking in the soulless,hopeless hulks that had once been men. And it suddenly occurred to himthat he'd had enough of this hellish corner of Venus; he had been heretwo months and already he was unable to think clearly, he was becomingidentified with the living death of the Venusian Prison Swamp. Hismission apparently had failed. What he had come to learn, remained asecret, and he was slowly becoming like these shells of men who prowledthe ocean of mud, eventually to disappear beneath it.

"No need to thank me, middle order, I would have missed our discussionshad you gone." The Venusian grinned impishly.

"What? I've been promoted! You must be ill, to call me anything abovea 'lower order' or a 'sub-species'!" Mark smiled too, but seriouslywondered what crime had condemned Aladdo to a prison reserved only forthe most hardened and hopeless criminals, or for political prisonerswhose existence was a threat to the Tri-Planetary League.

"At times, you're almost intelligent," the Venusian replied placidly."Any one of these other men would have struggled had they been in yourplace, and I would have been helpless."

"Why didn't you use your brain," Mark couldn't resist prodding theother, "and by flying above me, get to me quicker, instead of crawlingall that distance?"

The winged figure laughed mirthlessly, and for an answer held up itsarms. The azure membranes that were its wings, hung in limp folds.

"Useless, you see," he said quietly. "The tendons have been cut.Otherwise I could fly up and out of this swamp, despite its fivehundred mile width."

Mark could find no words to say. Since being assigned at his ownrequest to this last grim haven of the damned, by the Tri-PlanetaryPrison Bureau, on a special mission, there had been moments when thehorror of it all had made him doubt the wisdom of maintaining such aghastly place. He knew, of course, the tremendous deterrent influenceits existence exerted, besides the important revenue derived fromVenusian pearls; still it all seemed too inhuman.

"You don't seem criminal, Earthman!" the cello-like voice introduced onMark's thoughts. "I fail to catch the typical vibrations of the killersand ravagers. Your crime ... was it political?"

"Why, yes!" Mark assented hurriedly. It wouldn't do for this Venusianto suspect he was an operative. "To put it briefly, I am classified astoo individualistic for the new order of 'controlled endeavor'. Alsotyped as irreconcilable—and you know what that means!"

"Perfectly!" The enigmatic smile hovering on the Venusian's lips fadedslowly. "I, too, am a 'political'. My father was Bedrim, the Liberator.All we of Venus asked was real independence instead of the mock freedomyour Earth grants us; in reality we are a vassal state with no voicebut Earth's."

"Bedrim!" Mark exclaimed, aghast. For more than a decade that name hadmade history, engulfing three planets in a suicidal struggle that hadended in a stalemate. Bedrim was dead now, Mark knew; but in Venus andeven on Mars, the name was a glorious legend. It was only with thegreatest effort and vigilance that Earth was able to enforce the peace.

"So this is what became of you!" Mark said slowly, softly. "The threeworlds do not know, they still wonder—" Then he caught himself and bithis lip.

"Yes," Aladdo murmured bitterly. "The worlds do not know. I was to begiven amnesty, I was so young; but your inner Council decided that aslong as I lived I would be a rallying point for irreconcilables ofVenus, and so I was hunted from planet to planet until ... well, hereI am on my own world, but as far away from my people as if I were onBetelgeuse. Here I do not live."

"But surely there must be some way of convincing the Council thatyou're harmless! And if that fails, well ... of getting you out ofhere!"

"Out of Paradim?" Aladdo's smile had all the despairing bitterness ofa soul damned for all eternity; all the tears and the anguish and thewracking sorrow of the condemned since the world began seemed to befrozen for an instant in that smile. "Look about you, Earthman!"

It was true. Mark had to acknowledge the psychological genius whohad devised the Venusian Prison System. For five hundred miles theswamp Paradim extended in either direction, impassable, pitted withsink holes into which a man would disappear without trace. And beyondwere the impenetrable jungles, alive with lurking carnivora, lurkingmonsters of the night, red in tooth and claw. Only on the oppositehemisphere were the two larger and hospital continents of Venus.

Here, on this tiny continent, the prison ship came once a month, tohover over the tiny islet in the middle of the swamp, the only spot offirm ground for untold miles. Here it dropped supplies and food, andoccasionally picked up the little heaps of fabulous Venusian pearls.There were no guards and none were needed, for at night when theawful humidity increased, the men worked or died. With night came thedreaded fog, lurid in the ghostly illumination of the igniis fatui,the phosphorescent radiance of this vast graveyard. And the idle died.Decomposition of the blood set in; essential salts within their bodieswere dissolved, cellular activity ceased, and their bodies bloated.Not many, however, were idle.

Escape? For years it had been thought a virtual impossibility. The verythought would have brought smiles to the grim faces of that augustbody, the Tri-Planetary Bureau of Prisons. And yet—a notorious killerwho had been sent to this swamp only a year ago, had recently beenfound dead—out in space!

A patrol ship had found the body floating a few thousand miles offCallisto, an atom-blast hole drilled neatly through the forehead. Therewas not the slightest doubt that this was the same man. How had thiscriminal been able to escape the swamp and travel to Callisto, millionsof miles away? It was a mystery and above all, a challenge. Apparentlythe Venus Prison had ceased to be impregnable. And that was why MarkDenning, the Prison Bureau's leading investigator, was here.

"Guard your pearl, middle species," Aladdo's voice was ironic oncemore. "Escape, and with it you may buy a pardon!" Without a backwardglance, the Venusian moved on with nightmare slowness through theswirling mists, pushing his basket into which the Josmian globes wereloaded.

Escape, Mark thought, following the Venusian. He did not need toescape, he could signal the prison ship to pick him up the next timeit arrived. He wondered if he should. He had been here two months, andthey were an eternity that dwarfed any concept of hell. But he hadn'tany clue to the mystery of the escaping convicts, and he could hardlyreturn with a confession of failure.

He looked ahead through the mists, at the slender body of Aladdo in itstight-fitting sheath of metallic blue. "I would miss Aladdo," Markwhispered to himself; "and if he can stand it here, I should be ableto!"

"What are you mumbling about to yourself?" Aladdo's mocking voicecame back to him. "That lowers you from the middle species to the subspecies again." He held up a Josmian globe against the greenish swampglow. "White," he said contemptuously and threw it into the basket.

Pushing through the muck with his tremendous strength, Mark cut thedistance that separated them. "You may have my purple one, Aladdo. Iwill not need it, and perhaps you ... with it you might...."

"If I were to gather a hundred purple ones, I could not buy myrelease." The Venusian was staring at Mark peculiarly, as if wonderingwhy he should have made that offer. "Do you suppose, Earthman, any ofthe other men saw you find it? They would kill you for it—cheerfully."

"No, I think not; no one saw me bring it up but you."

"Then guard it." Aladdo eyed Mark's powerful frame critically. "Guardit with your life, for you may have to fight for it soon."

"Telepathy! You've caught someone's thought vibrations?" Mark asked ina whisper. He well knew that telepathy, although not commonly used, wasan established fact among the Venusians.

But Aladdo's long lashes rested against pallid cheeks, veiling eyesthat were abrim with something Mark could not understand. "No," thewinged one said at last, "it wasn't a thought vibration—not thatclear—perhaps a vibration of evil! Be alert, Earthman. I can say nomore."

"All right, thanks, Aladdo." But inwardly Mark cursed the inherentVenusian mania for ultra-reserve, for making a mystery of even the mostcommonplace affairs. "Let's head for the island, it's almost dawn."

Above, the cloud-cap was prismatic with color as the sun tried feeblyto penetrate the grayness and then gave up the attempt, as if it hadtried many times before and failed. Slowly the vast swamp's contourscame into view, with their small island a faint green line against thehorizon's rim. And as the grayish dawn light increased, suffusing thegrim morass, Mark and Aladdo made their slow way toward it.

II

"Up you go!" Mark's long muscles corded as he heaved and Aladdo's bodyleft the mud with a sucking sound, to sprawl on the solid ground of theisland. Presently the Earthman joined him, and for a few seconds theyrested silently.

All around them the vegetation surged, lush and matted, inextricablytangled with parasitic vines. Whereas the expanse of swamp was bareof the myriad growths of Venus, for some unknown chemical reason,the island itself was riotous with them. It was as if every inch ofterra firma were precious. The humid air was hot and stagnant, heavywith the overpowering fragrance of flowers. Even after two months ofconditioning, Mark had difficulty in breathing, as the odors of thisalien world increased as the temperature rose.

"Arrgh, what a world!" Mark said disgustedly, as he rose to his feet."I'm going to bathe, before the gang arrives. You'd better come too."Together they went up the vine-entangled path toward the barracks, and,rounding a corner of the building, followed another path to where asmall spring gushed from an elevation; it fell in a sparkling showerand then meandered a few feet to lose itself in the swamp.

Aladdo, as usual, merely let the water flow over the metallic suitthat sheathed the slender body. By the time they had finished bathing,the rest of the convicts began to emerge from radiating paths, to dumptheir swamp pearls onto the growing heap by the side of their barracks.Some of the men threw themselves on the ground, exhausted in mindsand bodies, and were almost instantly asleep. A few sat against thebarracks wall and chewed the deadly tsith stems, their eyes vacant,their faces gray. Tsith was awful stuff, even if it did banish pain.Mark knew that these men wouldn't last long, but he wondered if perhapsthey weren't the wiser ones after all!

Returning from his bath to the barracks, Mark found that Aladdo haddisappeared. He entered, and donned a thin rubberoid garment fromamong his meager store of personal belongings. It resembled one ofthe ancient woolen suits that Earthmen had used against the cold manycenturies before; but there was a great difference. Mark's garment wasimpervious to cold or heat, highly flexible, yet the interlining ofallurium mesh could intercept anything short of a ray blast.

When Mark emerged, he found Aladdo talking in very low tones, with atall, Martian-Venusian half-breed. This man was fantastic. He had theslenderness of the Venusians, and the finely chiseled features, but hiseyes were Martian—deep purple and immense, far too large for the face.The breadth of shoulder and barrel chest was Martian too, ludicrous incomparison with the wasp waist and slender thighs.

Mark had seen this half-breed about the swamp before, and wondered whohe was. Now Aladdo, glancing up, called to him. Mark walked over tothem.

"This is Luhor, Earthman," the Venusian crossed both hands at thewrists in the immemorial Venusian gesture indicating that a friend wasbeing introduced. "Luhor, the Earthman's name is Mark. He is the one Itold you about. Note the muscular power of the body, the intelligenceof the face, no less than middle-order. I think you shall find him mostuseful."

Mark felt as if he were on the auction block, as Aladdo calmly pointedout his physical attributes. He was mystified. At the back of his minda vague memory strove to emerge; it was barely a sense of having seenthis man Luhor before, moving among the torpid convicts and whisperingto them briefly. Perhaps it had been an allusion of the swamp's nightglow, and yet, the feeling persisted. Mark extended his hand to theMartian-Venusian, who eyed him silently, expressionless, withoutgrasping the proffered hand. Around them, the atmosphere was electric.

At last Luhor spoke. "Only fifteen can go. They have been picked out!"His was a rumbling voice, emotionless—cold.

"Eliminate one then," Aladdo said imperiously.

"How? They'll fight like Ocelandians; they already know they've beenpicked, O Aladdian!"

Then Mark Denning understood. Escape was being planned. Aladdo was oneof those to go, and was trying to induce Luhor to include him! Mark'sheart was pounding, he knew that it was now or never; he must be amongthose who escaped. He would never again be so close to the solution ofthe mysteries he had been sent here to solve.

"I'm new here," Mark spoke hurriedly. "Look at my arms, my chest.I have tremendous strength and endurance. My vitality has not beensapped by the swamp as yet. Take me also, Luhor, I'll repay you beyondanything you can dream of!"

The half-breed's mouth twisted slowly into a cold sneer as he gazedat the Earthman, then he shrugged his shoulders. It might have meantanything, but Mark thought it meant denial. In silence Luhor bowed toAladdo and strode off toward a group of several men. It was odd, Markthought—a half-breed convict showing such a mark of respect to anotherconvict. But perhaps it was because Luhor was half Venusian, and Bedrimhad been Aladdo's father. Mark turned questioningly to Aladdo.

He was amazed to see sudden alarm leap into the Venusian's eyes,together with a warning cry.

Mark stepped lithely aside, but not in time to avoid a terrific blowbetween his shoulder-blades that left a burning point of fire in hisflesh. He half fell to his knees, but whirled around to confront abestial face, maddened now by blood-lust. In the attacker's hand wasthe haft and a piece of broken blade from what had evidently been asmuggled knife. It was useless now, shattered against the allurium meshinterlining of Mark's suit.

With a cry of baffled rage the attacking Earthman hurled the brokenweapon into Mark's face, and launched himself close behind it. Markrolled slightly aside, then gained his feet and whirled to face hisattacker. Mark was icy calm now. He awaited the convict's next rush,then sent a straight left unerringly to the man's head, driving himoff-balance. Mark kept facing him, balanced lightly on his toes as theman came boring back in tenaciously. Mark's right arm was a peg uponwhich he hung the convict's blow, while he used the boxer's left, longand weaving, throwing it swiftly three times like a cat sparring with amouse.

The killer rushed, aggressive and eager. Mark let his heels touch theground this time, refused to give way. He took a murderous hook to thestomach without flinching, countered with a quick left to the face andthen a vicious right-cross. The convict's face seemed to lose contour,its features blurred as the face went gory; his feet crossed and hisknees went suddenly rubbery, he fell with a crash and didn't get up.

Mark towered above him, breathing heavily, only now aware of the littlegroup of interested men who had watched.

"You fight like a Venusian Ocelandian—as ruthless, and as methodical."It was Luhor who stepped forward and spoke; he was grinning twistedlyas he surveyed Mark's handiwork.

"Now I wonder why he wanted to eliminate me?" Mark gestured puzzledly.

For an answer Aladdo, standing close by him, tapped the spot wherein a hidden, inner pocket reposed the purple pearl. The gesture wentunnoticed by Luhor, but Mark suddenly understood.

"What do you care?" Luhor waved a hand as if dismissing the fallen foe."He was one of the chosen. You may take his place, Earthman, sinceyou have so neatly disabled him." His large weird eyes took in Mark'sphysique with a new interest.

To Aladdo he said, "You have your wish." Again there was that odd noteof deference in his voice. He bowed slightly and turned away again tothe gathered little group of men.

"When do we start?" Mark whispered eagerly to Aladdo.

But the Venusian's eyes were preternaturally bright. A frail hand washeld up for silence. Mark stood tense, listening. The brightness ofAladdo's eyes seemed to increase.

And then Mark heard it. They all heard it. It was unbelievable.

The low, powerful hum of a repulsion beam rent the stillness. It wasfaint and far away at first, but became steadily louder. This, Markknew, was not the hornet's hum of the tiny craft the Prison Bureau sentwith supplies; this was the unmistakable vibration of a Spacer hoveringabove them!

Soon the immense bulk of the spaceship dropped slowly from the cloudbanks above, like a silvery ghost descending. It hovered fifty feetabove the islet, the powerful repulsion beam humming its deafeningdrone. An under-hull lock opened. A long flexible ladder rusheduncoiling through the murky atmosphere until it struck the ground adozen paces from the barracks.

"Back!" Luhor's voice crackled like an icy javelin as an avalanche ofhumanity scrambled toward the ladder, clawing, tearing and screaming.In his hand he held an atom-blast capable of annihilating that entiresnarling group. They saw it and halted uncertainly. Luhor strode calmlytoward the ladder and again shouted, "Back, you vermin!" He broughtthe weapon up as if to fire, and the tattered dregs who had been humanbeings still prized life enough to retreat sullenly.

In a cold voice Luhor called names from a list in his hand. His hugepurple orbs inspected each man to step forward, then he waved themtoward the ladder. Aladdo was first, and Mark's heart leaped as theVenusian scrambled up the weaving ladder, grasping the metal rungs withfragile hands. One by one, fifteen convicts were called. Mark was amongthe last, and he heard Luhor ordering the remaining convicts into theswamp. Two disobeyed and leaped forward desperately. Luhor's atom-blastspat, one man dropped in his tracks and the other went scrambling back.Cries, imprecations, curses and pleadings dwindled as the men retreatedto the mud.

It was then that Luhor himself began to ascend the rungs, as the ladderwas slowly pulled up. A rush of maddened convicts clawed at emptyair as the stairway to freedom rose above their heads. Luhor laughedmockingly down at them. Mark, just above, suddenly hated Luhor for that.

Inside the Spacer, with the air-lock closed, Luhor turned to thewaiting men. His rumbling voice rose commandingly. "Anyone withweapons, whatever they are, throw them on the floor before you; ifyou refuse, or we have to search you and find them, you'll be droppedthrough the air-lock into the swamp. Choose!"

The absolute cold finality of his tone left no doubt. A veritablearsenal of sharpened rocks, crude metal knives, and bent wires coatedwith deadly poison from Venusian plants, showered down.

"All through?" The half-breed's purple eyes ranged down the lineof men, as if he could see into their minds. There was a moment ofsilence, then one of the men hesitantly dropped an outmoded heat-gun,old-fashioned but deadly. Luhor's eyebrows went up, and he smiledthinly. "All right," he told a member of the crew, "gather up this junkand toss it out. You new men follow me. First you'll sluice off the mudand put on some decent clothes. Afterwards you'll see the Commander;and," he added, "the Commander will see you!" A fleeting smilehovered on his lips as if he had a little joke all his own.

Mark was amazed at the spaciousness of the ship, and at the luxury ofits appointments. It was apparent at once that this was no ordinarySpacer, for it was a fighting craft as well—a long, slim torpedo ofdeath modern beyond anything he'd ever seen. He only obtained a glimpseof a few of the craft's weapons, but they looked formidable enough totackle anything the Tri-Planetary ships could muster. He tried not toappear too curious, however; he knew that just now his best bet was tolook dazed and docile.

He glanced around for Aladdo, but the little Venusian had disappeared.Mark wasn't too surprised. He was satisfied to know that Aladdo was onthe ship, and that eventually he would appear.

The men scrubbed themselves with soap under needles of warm water, andachieved cleanliness for the first time in many months. Dressed inclean trousers and tunics, they were ready at last to go before theCommander. The men moved restlessly and whispered among themselves.None knew where they were going, or why. They only knew that a miraclehad happened and they had been delivered from the great swamp. Itdidn't occur to any of them as yet that there could be a situation evenremotely as bad as their living death in the swamp.

One by one, they were called, as they waited in the ship's comfortableleisure-room. At its far end was an automatic beryllium door, and aseach man's name was called through an amplifier, the door would opento permit a man to go through. Already nine men had passed through, andnone had emerged.

Mark could hardly restrain his impatience. Behind that door was thesolution of a great mystery—a mystery which had grown in importancebeyond anything the Prison Bureau officials had dreamed of, Markrealized, considering the perilous super-efficiency of this spaceship,now speeding away from Venus!

Mark's name was called last, and he tried to achieve a carelessnonchalance as he walked toward the door that opened silently forhim. He would not have been too surprised to find that Aladdo was theCommander of this ship; that thought had occurred to him. As he enteredthe huge compartment, however, he had only a confused impression ofbrilliant lighting and indiscriminate luxury. Magnificent, ceiling-hightapestries covered the metal walls; beneath his feet, the resilientpile of an imperial Martian rug was a splash of varicolored splendour.Ornaments from three planets were everywhere, some of them museumpieces, like the desk of extinct Martian Majagua wood, inlaid withminiature mosaics of semi-precious stones.

"Loot from the spacelanes!" Mark exclaimed inwardly. And then he wasbeyond all amazement as his gaze went across the bright room, and hesaw the two people present.

One was Luhor, dressed resplendently now, the shadow of a smileupturning the corners of his mouth. He was standing. Seated at a deskbeside him was a girl. She was clad in a close-fitting uniform of awhite, gleaming material like watered silk.

Mark slowly let out his breath, and then he crossed the room. Hewondered if she were really that beautiful, or if it was just thegarish lights and surroundings.

She spoke first. "If you must be amazed, please do it quickly. I amweary of these interviews."

Mark looked at her eyes that were blue but unsmiling, and lips thatsmiled thinly but didn't mean it. Her slightly turned-up nose wouldhave been amusing ordinarily but wasn't now. Coppery brown hair wasbrushed smoothly back from her forehead, to fall in waves to hershoulders. Mark wished she would smile with her eyes as well as herlips.

His own smile faded, he took a deep breath and said, "I am sufficientlyamazed."

"Good. Then we can proceed. Luhor, is this the last one?"

"Yes. He's the one I was telling you about."

She turned her cold blue eyes upon Mark again. Her voice wasemotionless, almost a monotone. "Luhor tells me you were exceedinglyanxious to leave the Venus swamp. Why?"

"Why!" Mark repeated in amazement. "Why does any man want to leavethere? It's a living death—and I was slowly going crazy."

"You had only been there a few months?"

"That's right."

"Why were you sent there?"

Mark hesitated for a split second, and decided he had better stick tothe same story he'd told Aladdo. "I'm a 'political'," he said.

She nodded, as though satisfied. "I have never been actually in theswamp. I understand that you worked hard there?"

"Yes, very hard. We had to, to stay alive."

"You will work very hard for me—for the same reason. Perhaps you willwish you had stayed in the swamp. What can you do?"

Mark brightened. "Around a spaceship? I can handle rocket-tubes, orcontrols. Also probably any weapon you care to mention. Calculationsand differential equations are pretty easy. I could almost quote youthe entire Advanced Principles of Space Navigation...." With a rushof nostalgia Mark was remembering all the mechanics and mathematicsof his four years in Government Spacer School. He went on with coolconfidence, "I could take one of your atomomotors apart, jumble thepieces and put it together again. I'm really a mechanic rather than aspaceman. Spacery's only a hobby of mine...."

She swung her eyes over to the half-breed. Luhor nodded, grinning withhuge amusem*nt. She said to Mark:

"You will work at the mines, where you are going. You can make that ahobby of yours. I do not like men with me in space who know more abouta ship than I do."

Mark slowly seethed, but said nothing. She waved a slim hand indismissal. Luhor, still grinning, showed Mark the door by which to goout.

III

Mark awakened suddenly, aware that someone was shaking him. Intenselight almost blinded him as he opened his eyes, and he shut themhurriedly. He lay for a few seconds enjoying the luxury of the berthon which he had slept. It had been long since he'd felt the yieldingcomfort of a coil-pad beneath his body, or cool Lynon sheets againsthis flesh.

"Rouse yourself, sluggard!" The voice was mocking, familiar, rich withgolden overtones. "Get that deficient brain of yours to working, lowerorder!"

"Aladdo! You Venusian demon—where have you been?" In his delightMark grabbed Aladdo's slender hands and almost crushed them. "I wasbeginning to think I'd have to tear this ship apart to find you!"

"My hands!" Aladdo exclaimed in alarm and withdrew them. But therewas shining joy in his smile. Perched on the edge of the berth, thetiny Venusian regarded the giant Earthman with laughing eyes, bluereven than the azure wings that hung like a cloak. But it was a subtlydifferent Aladdo; glowing and clean until the exquisitely chiseledface was like alabaster, the curling close-cropped hair blue-black andgleaming.

Dressed in a soft gray tunic and tight white trousers, the wings werevivid in contrast, almost iridescent. The tiny feet were encased inbootlets of red Ocelandian fur, and a belt of platinum links circledthe narrow waist, holding a holster with a small short-range atom-blast.

Surprised, Mark flicked a forefinger at the weapon and lookedinquiringly at Aladdo. "They let you have this?"

"Yes," the Venusian nodded. "Remember, Bedrim was my father; I canbe most useful to them. Although my father's dead, there are stillfollowers on three planets, ready at a moment's notice to rally behinda leader. I could be that leader—or at least appear to be. I am aguest of honor on this cruiser—a prisoner, of course," Aladdo smiledironically, "but shown every courtesy. I even have my own privatequarters instead of sleeping here with the crew."

"But what is it all about, Aladdo?" Mark was exasperated as themystery grew. "What's the purpose behind all this? Ruthless criminalssalvaged from a Venusian Prison swamp, and now this super-cruiser builtto withstand anything! And who is that girl? I—" But the Venusianinterrupted him.

"No time now. You'll learn everything presently. Dress quickly and comewith me."

"I'm dressed," Mark answered, springing up. He zipped on light,insulated shoes and followed Aladdo to the main cabin. The rest ofthe men were already there, clustered about the starboard ports in anexcited group. The light in this room was blazing. Mark could feel thegentle vibration of the atomomotors somewhere deep in the spaceship,and again the question overwhelmed him: where were they going?

He was soon to learn. Recklessly he gazed out into space. Instantly hepivoted away, as if a gigantic hand had spun him. He had looked almostdirectly into the sun!

It was a sun vast beyond imagining, tongues of flame flickering slowlyout for thousands of miles. He knew it was only the thickness of theCrystyte ports that saved the men's eyes. Slowly Mark's eyes becameaccustomed to the fierce glare and by shading them obliquely he coulddiscern the object of the men's excitement—a dark little speck of aplanet sweeping in its orbit just beyond the sun's rim. It rapidly grewlarger as the spaceship moved inward on a long tangent.

"Mercury!" Mark exclaimed, staring.

"No, we crossed the orbit of Mercury two hours ago." It was Aladdo whospoke beside him.

"Then, that must be ... but it's impossible!" Mark laughed a littlewildly. "How long since we left Venus?"

"Ten hours, Earthman. It is possible. That is the planet Vulcan."

"Unbelievable," Mark almost whispered. "Why, it takes the fastestPatrol cruiser forty-eight hours to reach Mercury's orbit from Venus.Lord! What sort of speed has this Spacer?"

But Aladdo didn't answer. A door had opened and Luhor stepped in.

"Vulcan," he said tonelessly. "As we approach, even the thickness ofthese ports won't be enough. Put on these."

He handed the men pairs of Crystyte goggles, the lenses speciallyprocessed.

"Does this mean we're actually going to attempt a landing on Vulcan?"Mark asked the half-breed. "It's madness! It has never been done!"

"But it has been done." Luhor gazed at Mark frigidly. "You merely havenever heard of it."

"Who's at the controls?" Mark struggled to subdue the excitement in hisvoice.

"Why, the Commander, naturally—assisted by myself." Luhor's vast chestarched with pride. "Observe closely, Earthman, and you will be treatedto as masterly a feat of navigation as you're likely ever to seeagain!" His purple orbs roved over the men, clean-dressed, and rested,the haunted look beginning to fade from their eyes. He nodded approval,as he turned and left.

"A base at Vulcan!" Mark was repeating inwardly. And a cold fear atthis growing mystery grew apace within him.

It was not only a masterly feat of navigation—it was incredible as thehurtling spaceship continued along its tangent, until Vulcan, slightlysmaller than Mercury, came swinging around to bisect their trajectory.

Very neatly, their speed was manipulated to allow the planet to comebetween them and the sun; then the great Spacer began to pursue adirect course. Mark noticed that Vulcan kept one side eternallysunwards. Swiftly the spaceship approached the dark, outward side.Actually it was not "dark" but it could be called so in comparison withthe molten sunward side.

Mark realized the almost insurmountable difficulty of keeping theSpacer on a trajectory, with the sun's tremendous gravitational pull sodangerously near; the slightest deviation now would send them hurtlingpast Vulcan and into that naming hecotomb. He knew, as well, that therecould be no atmosphere on Vulcan to help them brake.

But even as these thoughts were racing through his mind, Vulcan camerushing up at them with the fury of a miniature hell running rampant.Its surface was lividly aglow, with the flaming curve of the sun as abackdrop blotting out the horizon. Suddenly they were leveling over itssurface, at a speed that to Mark spelled disaster. He saw the fore-jetsflaming over a wide terrain of what might have been lava or pumice, butthat didn't seem to check their reckless speed at all. Directly aheadblack mountain ranges sheered upward as if to disembowel the ship onjagged summits. Mark merely closed his eyes, awaiting the crash thatseemed inevitable. No ship he knew could ever brake in time at thatsuicidal speed.

A terrific force jarred him to the floor. A profound nausea made himretch. Then Luhor was touching his shoulder, and Mark opened his eyes.

"All out, we're home!" the half-breed grinned. "You're lucky that thesynchronized magnetic fields minimize deceleration, Earthman." Doorswere opening, voices were drifting into the ship. The vibration of theatomomotors had ceased.

White-faced and shaken, the men debarked into a wide corridor hewn outof solid rock, into which the ship had berthed. Glancing back, Mark sawmetal doors of titanic proportions now hermetically closed; ahead weresimilar doors. Then he heard the deep, far-away throbbing of generatorsand he knew that he was in an air-lock built on a gigantic scale. A fewseconds later the inner doors slid open.

As they walked forward Luhor turned to Mark with a proud smile. "Youwon't find that type of navigation in the 'Advanced Principles,' eh,Earthman?"

"No, indeed not," Mark admitted. "But I still don't understand thatbraking process!"

Luhor pointed to colossal sets of coils, in niches along each side ofthe vast corridor. "Synchronized magnetic degravitation fields; theyarrest mass and speed synchronously, finally stopping the spacer in agraduating net of force. Similar coils to these exist for a mile alongthe gorge back there, through which we came. Even so it is a verydelicate and precise process."

They stepped into a grotto so vast as to dwarf anything Mark had everimagined. It extended for miles, sheltering an entire little city! Marksaw rows of stone dwellings, stream-lined, ultra-modern. From largerbuildings came the sounds of blast furnaces and an occasional flash ofruddy glow. Groups of workmen hurried past, glanced curiously at thenew arrivals but didn't stop to fraternize. And then Mark saw Carston.

Ernest Carston! One of the very highest men among the Tri-PlanetaryPrison Bureau officials! The surprise stopped Mark Denning in histracks, but fortunately, thanks to his training, he managed to keep hisface impassive as they recognized each other simultaneously. Carstonflashed him a quick look that seemed to say, "Later!"

Then the newcomers were marching in silence to a spacious building,where they were assigned rooms. The furnishings were simple, butcomfortable, and Luhor led them to the rear of the building where thedining-room was located.

They ate with the famished eagerness of men who had long subsisted oncompressed synthetic rations. Then they were issued cigarettes. To themen who had been doomed on Venus only a few hours previously, it waslike awakening in heaven from a nightmare in hell.

Through Mark's mind ran an ancient saying: "Eat, drink and be merry,for tomorrow...."

IV

Standing in the doorway, the girl of the unsmiling blue eyes surveyedthe new men silently. Her trim, aloof figure instantly commanded theirattention, and their respect as well.

"I cannot waste words on you," she said abruptly, "for my time islimited. I know all of your names, so you shall know mine as well,although it will mean nothing to you. I am Cynthia Marnik, but you willaddress me always as Commander. You will obey me implicitly in allthings here. Second to me, you will obey Luhor.

"All of you volunteered to come. Now that you're here, you are part ofour scheme of things and you will work as hard as you did in the swamp.It is dangerous work, but you will have ample remuneration. Idlersand grumblers will be done away with, I promise you. Your lives wereforfeit in the swamp, and that is not altered by your being on Vulcan."She paused as if waiting for objections, but every man was silent.

"Very well; Luhor will explain later what you're here for. Meanwhileyou are free to go anywhere you like within the city, but be ready towork about eight earth-hours from now." As abruptly as she had come,Commander Cynthia Marnik turned and was gone.

The men smoked and talked among themselves, speculating what theirtasks might be. The memory of the Prison Swamp was too recent for themto care much.

Mark rose quietly and stepped out of the dining-room. He'd noticed thatAladdo was absent from the meal, and he wondered if his Venusian friendwas still an 'honored guest.' Deciding to inspect the city, Mark triedto retrace his steps to those buildings where he had heard the blastfurnaces; but at the first cross-corridor Ernest Carston stepped outand walked beside him. He smiled at Mark Denning, but held a warningfinger to his lips.

They walked in silence, while the corridors became rockier and moredimly lighted. At last, far away from the city, Carston stopped underan immense jutting rock and quietly gripped Mark's hand. There was aworld of feeling in his voice as he said barely whispering:

"I'd lost hope of ever seeing any of you again!"

"How did you get here?" Mark asked the question that had been burningin his mind. "Did they pick you up at the swamp, too?"

"Yes. We're both on the same trail—and here the trail ends."

"But I had no idea you'd preceded me," Mark told him. "It must havebeen considered a far more important assignment than I was told, tosend you to the Swamp!"

"We didn't know, we weren't certain," Carston said thoughtfully. "Butwe received a bit of information which, if true, was of the greatestimportance. It seemed impossible, fantastic, but the hazard was sogreat, that even what amounted to a vague rumor warranted my going. Youwere to follow in a few months, without knowing I had gone ahead. Well,you already know most of the rest; but Earth's government doesn't evensuspect the deadly peril it will soon have to face!"

"I'm afraid," Mark stated frankly, "that there are a lot of gaps inwhat I do know. I can tell, of course, that something mighty big isgoing on here. But what was that bit of information you received?"

"It goes back nearly a quarter of a century," Carston replied slowly,"and concerns a man named George Marnik. He, and his young wife, wereamong the first pioneers to venture out to Callisto. Those were theruthless years, when the great Earth Monopolies stopped at nothing,were very often lawless, and usually got what they wanted." Carstonpaused to light a cigarette.

"George Marnik," he went on, "discovered one of the richest palladiumveins on Callisto, and was developing it slowly. But—one of theMonopolies decided that it wanted Marnik's rich vein. In an ensuingstruggle with some of the Monopoly's hired hoodlums, Marnik's wife wasburned down brutally with an electro-gun. She left a daughter, aboutfive years old, whom they had named Cynthia ... do you follow me?"

"Go on," Mark said in a cold, dry voice.

"Well, after the tragedy, George Marnik disappeared. He was never heardof again—except by the Earth Monopolies. They heard of him plenty. Heterrorized the spacelanes for years, and more than one Monopoly wentunder, bankrupt by the incessant attacks on their ships by an enemy whohad achieved a ruthlessness greater even than theirs. It was rumoredthat Marnik had vowed never to set foot on Earth again, and that hislife was dedicated to the destruction of the Monopolies. He almostachieved his task, except that the Earth's government finally steppedin and dissolved the Monopolies." Carston paused and drew in a longbreath.

"And then?" Mark urged, as if fascinated by this saga of another day.

"Why, then as you know, Emperor Bedrim of Venus achieved his famousalliance with Dar Vaajo of Mars, and together they sought to endEarth's domination and exploitation of their planets. You know aboutthe bitter ten years' war—that's history. But when the Tri-PlanetaryPatrol was formed, during the truce that followed at the death ofBedrim, half the Solar System was searched for George Marnik's base andthe rich plunder he was reputed to have there. It was all in vain. Youcan now see why! The Patrol has never been able to land on Vulcan."

"But if I remember correctly," Mark Denning said reminiscently, "GeorgeMarnik was certified as dead, as the years went by and piracy ceased.The records gave no information as to his daughter Cynthia, she wasmerely marked 'Missing.'"

"Precisely!" Carston assented.

"Then that vital bit of information you received must have concernedthis base on Vulcan!"

"No. Worse! It concerned that George Marnik was alive and planning toend the Inter-Planetary Truce, to loose bitter war upon three worldsagain!"

"Good Lord!" Mark was stunned. "But how? Venus and Mars were disarmedunder Earth's dictated peace!"

"Yes, true. Mars is a small and dying race and not to be greatlyfeared. But Venus has never become reconciled. You know their unholypride and their utter conviction that theirs are the greatest mindsin our universe. Underneath the apparently peaceful surface, revolt'ssmoldering."

"Revolt fanned by Marnik?"

"Yes," Carston went on. "If George Marnik did have some fantastic planin mind, Venus would be the likeliest place for him to find backingand followers. On the face of it, it seemed absurd, of course. Butwhen the supply of Venusian Pearls dwindled to a mere trickle, and acriminal from the swamp was found dead millions of miles away, in thevicinity of Callisto, we knew then that there was a definite tie-up.It was time to investigate. George Marnik, the last space pirate, isalive—an ancient, embittered wreck living on hate!" Carston fellsilent.

"And Commander Cynthia, his daughter," Mark whispered musingly, "is theone in charge now!"

"Yes. You wouldn't have believed it possible, eh? But remember, duringthose reckless years when her father was the most hunted man in theuniverse, Cynthia grew up with him, constantly at his side, learningall the tricks of a master at piracy. She must share her father'shatred for a world that only brought them tragedy and sorrow. Marnik'spsychopathic, of course, his mind's warped; she must share his views,although at times I wonder ... sometimes when I look at her...." Hisvoice dwindled.

"So it all boils down to one thing," Mark's analytical mind had alreadyabsorbed all the facts. "That Spacer that brought us here is a menaceto civilization. Its speed alone is beyond anything we have at present;a fleet of them could wreak havoc on Earth's forces. Earth must bewarned at all costs, Carston!"

Ernest Carston looked at Mark pityingly, lines of weariness and anxietycreasing his face. "Do you think," he said slowly, "if there were anyway out, I would be here? Vulcan and the Venus Swamp both have a thingin common: there's no escape, except through Marnik. Commander Cynthiaonly carries out his orders."

"But she's a woman, Carston. If she could be made to realizewhat another Inter-Planetary war means—the awful carnage, thedestruction—perhaps she could somehow be reached!"

"I wish that were possible!" Carston exclaimed fervently. "But she'slike a being that's hypnotized. George Marnik must dominate hercompletely, old and decrepit as he must be. Remember, it's the onlylife she's ever known. He must be the only being she's ever loved."

"Have you any concrete knowledge of their plans?"

"No. Only deductions. Dar Vaajo, ruler of Mars, was here three weeksago. Cynthia brought him. For hours he was with Marnik in the latter'spalace. That can only mean one thing, of course. And then there's thenew metal. That is the real problem and the real menace!"

"Metal? A new alloy?" Mark Denning was all interest.

"Nothing so simple as that," Carston explained with tragic calm. "Ametal unique in the universe! A new, allotropic form of berylliumwhich beyond a certain temperature reacts by hardening in directratio to pressure and heat! Once cast, it is literally heat and blastproof, and so light that it triples efficiency in relation to fuelconsumption. And George Marnik's building, has been building, a fleetof these Super-Spacers!"

"I suppose they're mining that metal here?" Mark's face was white.

"Yes, on the sunward side of Vulcan! That's what swamp convicts arebrought here for."

"And I suppose either the ore, or the smelted metal's being shipped tosecret bases on Mars and Venus?" Mark's voice was strained and opaque.

"Not yet, Earthman!" The alien voice was at once like a whiplash andlike a fragment of music. Both men whirled about.

Out of the shadows, as if emerging from the bizarre scene of torturedrocks and twisted cavern-walls, stepped a slender figure with pendantwings.

"Aladdo!" Mark felt a curious tingling at sight of his Venusian friend,as he went forward with hands outstretched.

It was nothing compared to the shock mirrored on Carston's face."Aladdian!" he too exclaimed, a mixture of despair and impotent rage inhis voice.

"Peace, lower order!" Aladdo laughed, but hiding his hands behind hisback as he addressed Mark. "I shall not trust my hands to you again.It is enough to have crippled wings!" The Venusian stared full intoCarston's eyes as he uttered the last words significantly, and thelatter's face turned deep red.

"Are you still a guest? Where are they keeping you? I've missedyou...." Mark turned to Carston, his face alight. "Aladdo saved my lifein the swamp!"

"I'm staying with the Commander and her father. It is a small universeafter all," he added, turning to Carston, "eh, Colonel?"

"You know each other?" Mark asked, surprised.

Carston's face reddened and then paled. "I'm a servant of myGovernment," he answered the Venusian stiffly. "My duty is to obey, notto question orders, Princess!"

"What is all this? What do you mean, 'Princess'? Will someone explain?"Mark was exasperated.

"Aladdian's the daughter of the late Emperor Bedrim of Venus," Carstonsaid, then fell silent.

A look at the Venusian's smiling face told Mark it was true. His ownface was ludicrous, his mouth partly open, for the moment speechless.Then a dark flush of anger swept up like a tide to the roots of hishair.

"A girl ... a defenseless girl that's never committed a crime in herlife, condemned to that Venus Swamp! To the most ghastly, the mostcruel living-death in the universe...." Words failed him as he shookwith rage. "What was Earth's Government thinking of? The Council musthave been mad!" Mark Denning choked.

"Careful!" Ernest Carston warned. "Remember you're an Earthman,Denning. To question the Council is treason!"

"Treason be damned, and the Council too!" Mark raged. "There arelimits! There's no reason for that Prison Swamp except greed. Betteratom-blast habitual criminals than to condemn them there; that isworse than any crime!" He towered above Carston, a formidable engine ofdestruction, his face a mask of fury.

Then a tiny, fragile hand was on his arm and the Venusian's calm voicerose in the brief silence, "It is too late to remould the past. But wecan refashion the immediate future, Mark Denning."

"Can we? How? It seems that Marnik and Commander Cynthia hold all thecards!"

"Not all," Aladdian shook her exquisite head. "They have perfectedtheir plans for the immediate future—but we can be the element of theunpredictable!"

"You mean ... you're not in sympathy with their plans? That you won'tserve as a rallying point to sway the masses of Venus?" Carston lookedbewildered. "I thought when I saw you, that was the reason they'dbrought you here! We know that your people would revolt at a word fromyou, Princess! That's what our Government feared."

"I know. And I will not lead my people to an hecatomb in space. Butneither will the Earth continue to exploit my planet and debauch mypeople. This time, there will be a peace and it will be equitable."Aladdian had drawn herself to a full four feet eleven inches, and therewas an imperious note in her voice. Carston stood silent and grim.

Mark, looking at his Venusian friend anew, thought irrelevantly that,with the spike-heeled sandals of Earth, Aladdian would be only slightlyunder the average height of an Earth girl. He shook his head irritably.This was no time to ponder inconsequential things.

"Aladdian," he said, "do you know much of their plans and what is beingdone with this new metal?"

"Partly. We have discussed ways and means since my arrival here.George Marnik is very impatient; I think he fears he may die beforehe can see his plans carried through. First he will equip a fleetequal or superior to Earth's forces. Then he will take over Callisto,the new Gibraltar, between the inner and outer planets, after whichhe will complete an alliance with Venus and Mars. He does not planto conquer Earth, he knows it would take years; but his scheme wouldbottle your planet, relegate it to the status of a minor power, withoutinter-planetary colonies, without outer revenues. Venus and Mars alonewould expand in the Solar System."

"For a while," Mark said laconically. "Mars would never be content withanything short of complete rule, as long as Dar Vaajo lives! And themetal?..."

"It is smelted here under a secret process, and parts for the spacecruisers and special rockets manufactured. Then they are stored in oneof the asteroids where they will be assembled later into a fleet. Thatis all the data I have now."

"But this Luhor," Mark asked, "what is his real status? CommanderCynthia seems to trust him implicitly."

"She does," Aladdian replied. "He's an old friend of George Marnik,one of his trusted lieutenants from the pirate days. But he's a colddevil—combines the worst from both Venusian and Martian. Don'tunder-estimate him ... he can be deadly!"

"I've had occasion to see that," Mark said dryly.

"They're all deadly in this deadly little planet!" Carston saidvehemently. He looked far older than his scant thirty years, his facewas bleak and haggard.

"But this is heaven in comparison with the Prison Swamp," Aladdiantold him coldly. She seemed to have a determined animosity toward thehigh-ranking Earth official.

"It wasn't I who sent you there!"

"No. It was only your relentless pursuit that eventually resulted inmy capture," the Venusian answered, "and it was only you who cut thetendons of my wings. Oh, I know—you were only acting under orders."

Aladdian was smiling again as she turned back to Mark. "We had betterall go back to our quarters now, but it would be best if we did notreturn together." She moved away, then added: "Watch Luhor, Mark; I amnot sure, but I think he too is part of the 'unpredictable.'"

Mark watched her slim figure, with the azure wings and tight-curling,blue-black hair, melt away into the shadows.

"I will see you tomorrow," her voice floated back like a golden moltenstream.

V

"Only twenty-two men, Luhor?" Commander Cynthia Marnik stood verystraight and very slim in the center of the air-lock, surveying the newmen plus a sprinkling of others, preparatory to the trip outside. "Evenless than the last trip!" Annoyance creased a frown between her blueeyes.

"All we can spare, Commander. Every available man's at the furnaces;your father has ordered it so." Turning to the waiting men, Luhor beganto instruct them in the operation of their metal surface suits.

"As you can see, they're two suits in one," he explained tersely,"operating on the vacuum principle. Here's the cooling device betweeneach metal sheathing. You'll have to bear more heat than you've everendured, but don't get panicky. Here's where you regulate the oxygenflow into the helmet." He indicated a little dial.

Each man was assigned to a wide, flat-bottomed sled which he was topull behind him. They were also equipped with curious, spur-like picks.Mark failed to understand the reason for such primitive methods, butremained discreetly silent.

"You men who have made the trip before, help the new arrivals,"Luhor ordered curtly. Mark noted that Luhor himself was not going toaccompany them, but Cynthia Marnik was already encased in her suit.Ernest Carston went over to help her adjust the helmet.

"I can manage quite all right, thank you," she said. But it did notescape Mark that her voice was soft and that she smiled at Carston.Carston came over to give Mark a hand. He smiled reassuringly throughhis helmet's visiplate, then flicking on Mark's radio-phone, saidbriefly:

"Stay close to me! I'm one of the veterans."

"Bring Vulc, we're about ready," the Commander's voice soundedstartlingly inside Mark's headpiece.

"Who's Vulc?" Mark asked Carston in a whisper.

Before the latter could answer, there was a sudden unearthly rumblingbehind them. Mark turned, stared, then froze in his tracks. A huge,awesome apparition was lumbering in a straight line for the Commander.It was vaguely human in that it possessed a head, torso, four limbsof elephantine proportions, and it waddled upright. But the humanresemblance went no further.

The creature's skin, if skin it was, gleamed silvery metallic and gavethe impression of being fluid! It reminded Mark of nothing so much asan immense blob of mercury that might at any moment collapse into apuddle and spread over the floor.

But Vulc didn't collapse. He approached the Commander and stooddocilely waiting. She patted the creature's arm and then handed hima package of something. Vulc rumbled his appreciation and pouredthe contents into a gash that appeared in his face. Then he waddledcontentedly to a large sled and took up the reins.

"Wow! Where did you ever dig up that?" Mark turned white-faced toCarston.

"Vulc? He's a native of this planet, but more than that, he's ourambassador of peace!"

The Commander's crisp voice made further conversation impossible."Single file, you men. Stay as close to each other as the sleds willpermit. Carston, you stay in the middle, as usual, and watch out forthe Blitzees. If you men work hard, we should be back within ten hours."

Silently the outer door of the lock slid open and the men began to fileout, with the gigantic Vulc at the head. The brightness was intense,although they were on the planet's "dark side." Shimmering waves ofheat danced before them over the flat terrain.

At the very end of the line Commander Cynthia kept pace with them.

"What did you mean by 'ambassador of peace,' Carston?" Mark hadpurposefully fallen into line next to him.

"Adjust your radio-phone to its shortest distance communication,"Carston directed him, "so it will be inaudible to anyone else." As Markdid so, Carston continued, "We couldn't get out the metal we're after,without Vulc. His home is on the Neutral strip where we're going—thatpart of the planet where the outward and sunward side meet. All ofVulc's kin are there, and they resent us. They have attacked us before.We bring Vulc as an evidence of friendly intentions; they have a speechof sorts, and Vulc's supposed to pacify them."

"What was it the Commander gave him before we left?"

"Powdered metal, filings, and tiny scraps from the factories. That'swhat's in those big sacks up there on Vulc's sled—a peace offering forhis people."

"They subsist on metal!" Mark Denning was aghast.

"Everything on this planet does—that is, everything native to it. Andthey're impervious to heat, of course. If Vulc had not been captured byGeorge Marnik almost immediately after it was born, it would never havebeen conditioned to the comparatively cool atmosphere of the Base."

In silence they trudged mile after mile, following the same line ofblack hills that housed their Base. Mark marvelled at how comfortablethe vacuum suits were, but he knew the real heat hadn't started yet.

It came presently, as they veered further outward from the hills. Theheat increased steadily and became more intense than anything Mark hadever experienced. Perspiration dripped stickily within his suit. Hewanted to wipe his face but couldn't; he could only shake his head tokeep the sweat from his eyes.

But there was no keeping the mirages from his eyes. In every directionthe terrain rocked and rolled under huge undulating hazes of heat.Horizons leaped at him in wave after wave, and fled away again. The menahead seemed to do fantastic dances.

They no longer trod on rock. The ground beneath was soft, white andleprous looking, powdery almost as dust. Mark felt it hot around hismetal-clad ankles. Now he realized the reason for the flat-bottomedsleds. He knew, too, that a spaceship could never venture over here andget back safely; compasses and magniplates and everything else would gohaywire. Peering ahead, he discerned Vulc's fantastic bulk which nowhad turned a glowing cherry red! He shuddered at the thought of whatwould happen to a man suddenly bereft of the protecting vacuum suit.

Out of the silence, a vast rumbling sound rose like magnified thunder.Mark saw Carston fumble with his radio-phone then peer all about intothe haze.

"Blitzees coming!" he yelled into his instrument.

Everyone stopped. Mark followed Carston's line of sight, but hecouldn't see a thing.

"Swarm coming from the left!" Carston yelled again.

The Commander moved hurriedly along the line. "Lie down everyone, faceto the left! Upend your sleds and if you value your lives, stay behindthem!"

For a second all was confusion as the men flung themselves to thepowdery soil; then a metal barrier sprang up as the sleds came end toend. Still nothing could be seen.

Suddenly then they came. The air was blue from crackling sparks asdozens of the Blitzees struck the sleds with the impact of bullets. Asound like the humming of millions of hornets was in their ears, as thegreater part of the swarm passed overhead. Mark had a confused visionof electric blue streaks that writhed and zig-zagged, landed and leapedagain, propelling themselves blindly. As suddenly as it had come, thedanger was over.

The men arose somewhat shakily. The ground about them was strewnwith the snake-like Blitzees. Mark picked one up and found it to bemetallic, about five inches in length, transparent blue in color. Thehead was triangular, eyeless; along its back Mark felt a thin, wirysort of filament!

"They're like living bolts of electricity," Carston told him. "Theyseem to short-circuit themselves when they strike the sleds." Thecaravan continued.

Hours later they arrived at their destination, a small rise in theterrain before them, covered with glittering crystals in huge,boulder-like lumps. The sides of the little hill was composed of thesame ore, apparently in limitless amount.

But as if guarding it against them, rows of redly-glowing Vulcs stoodmotionless, elephantine, facing them. Mark couldn't tell whether theywere friendly or hostile. To him there was no expression to be seenon those fluid heads. But Commander Cynthia's Vulc went over to hishenchmen and jabbered in rumbling noises, pointing to the huge sacks onhis own sled. Presently three of the Vulcs came over and snatched atthe sacks, opened them and grabbed handfuls of the metallic filings.Seemingly satisfied, the trio lumbered off followed by the rest,bearing the sacks.

The men began to work then, loading the ore on the sleds and breakingit with their small hand-picks. Even to have come here was badenough, and to breathe was an agony—but to work, in this inferno ofunimaginable heat and blinding glare, was a nightmare. More than onceMark felt himself sway, and stood quite still until the dizzinesspassed. One of the men pitched forward and lay still.

Commander Cynthia examined the fallen man. She gestured to Vulc whograsped him and stretched him over the ore in his own sled. TheCommander's face was drawn and white through the visiplate, and hereyes were tragic. Mark was seeing evidences today that she was notentirely cold and heartless, as he had at first thought.

It seemed an eternity before they were through with their task. Atlast the sleds were loaded to capacity, and they rested a while beforestarting the return journey.

They could only pull the heavy sleds slowly now, and only the knowledgethat every mile brought them nearer to the Base, away from thissuffocating hell, spurred them on.

After a while the Commander called a halt, and the men sank downagainst their sleds like puppets whose strings have been cut. Therewas a strange absence of curses and rebellion against the appallingexperience they were undergoing; there was not enough strength left forthat.

Then Mark saw Commander Cynthia suddenly stand up. Through thevisiplate her eyes were wide, and they mirrored horror!

VI

"Up on your feet, every man of you! Test your oxygen tanks—quickly!"Her voice was tense with suppressed emotion.

Something in her tone seemed to cut a path through the heat-riddenlethargy of their minds, for the men staggered to their feet, handsfumbling for the testing buttons.

Mark found his, and his eyes darted to the tiny dial inside his helmet.The pointer swung and registered one hour. Frantically he pressedthe button again; once more the pointer inexorably indicated the sameperiod of time.

"One hour!" he breathed, stunned. That was barely a third of thetime it would take to return to the Base! Out of the dancing miragebefore him the alabaster face of Aladdian seemed to float and smile.With infinite, pain-laden regret Mark realized that unless a miraclehappened he would never see her again, and now for the first time itdawned on him how much he wanted to.

Around him the men were milling in confusion, panic-stricken. Their fewhours' stay at the Base had been like a brief taste of heaven, and lifehad become precious once more.

"All of us can't get back," the Commander was saying. "But there'senough oxygen among us to permit seven, at most eight, to do so. I'mwilling to draw lots with the rest of you. But decide quickly! Everyinstant is precious!"

"No!" a man screamed hysterically, near the breaking point. "I'd rathertake my chances...." His voice ended in a hoarse sob.

Then a strange thing happened. Ernest Carston, white-faced andunsteady, stepped forward.

"You can take my supply, Commander Cynthia," he offered. "You need notdraw lots; let the men do that."

She waved him aside and shook her head, but her eyes softenedgratefully. She glanced at the teletimer at her wrist. "I will giveyou men just thirty seconds to make your decision; otherwise I will beforced to make it."

But from the group came no decision, only sullen argument and franticbabbling. Some of them measured the distance between them and the girl,eying hungrily the atom-blast guns at either side of her wrist.

"What a woman!" Carston murmured to himself, lost in admiration. ButMark heard him.

"Yes, she is magnificent," he agreed in a dry croak. "A pity all thatcourage and...." He checked himself and fell dully silent again.

It was then that Mark saw something or thought he did, far away,shimmering through the dancing heat. He wiped the sparkling dust fromhis visiplate and strained his eyes desperately, praying that it wasnot a mirage. He clutched at Carston and pointed.

"The hills ... are those the hills? Our hills?"

Carston nodded dumbly. At last he managed to croak, "Yes, but theentrance is miles away ... at the other end."

"But there may be a chance! Remember Aladdian, the corridors—ahoneycomb of caverns? Commander!" Mark turned up his radio-phone, hisvoice drowning out the babble of the men. "How far is that range ofhills, Commander?"

She followed his pointing arm. "A little less than an hour, at itsclosest point."

"And the system of caverns—how far does it extend? Aren't those hillspractically honeycombed their entire length? We might find—"

"Wait!" The word came explosively, as her mind darted into the past,down the corridor of years. "Yes, I remember ... some of the cavernsdid lead out to this side, and father sealed them to make the Baseairtight...." She gazed at the distant hills as if trying to recapturea forgotten scene. And a bulky shape hurtled forward, clawing for theweapons at her waist.

But Carston had been watching. He thrust out a metal-shod foot and theconvict went sprawling ludicrously into the swirling white dust.

"Thank you, again!" the Commander said in a whisper. "This trip hasbeen a revelation—in so many ways." Her face was as white as thepowdery soil underfoot, and she was near collapse; but from someunknown source she still drew from enough strength reserve to maintainher authority. Hands on her atom-blast guns, she faced the men.

"Into line as before. We've got to make the hills in less than onehour. Leave the sleds. It's the hills or your lives!"

The effect was miraculous. Suddenly they were docile, grasping at theslender hope she offered them and content to have her bear the burden.Quickly they fell into line, with Vulc leading the way again. The menneeded no urging; the knowledge that they only had one more hour ofoxygen was enough.

If their trek up to now had been a nightmare, this latterstage surpassed even the most secret refinements of a Martiantorture-chamber. In an agony of slowness the minutes lengthened andseemed to stand still. The low range of hills seemed to dance mockinglyand recede into the distance beyond the horizon's endless rim. Inaddition now to the heat in their brains and the glare in their eyes,their lungs were tortured as they regulated the oxygen intake-valves tothe barest minimum.

After an eternity in which even memory seemed to have fled, they werewalking on rock and the heat began imperceptibly to abate. Directlybefore them, the hills rose out of the torturing blaze. Cries that werelittle more than miserable croakings echoed through the radio-phonesas the men broke ranks; they staggered on, holding to each other forsupport.

Mark looked around for the Commander, and saw her clutching atCarston's shoulder for support, while his arm was about her waist,half-holding her up. The girl disengaged herself and by sheerwill-power drove toward the base of the low-lying cliffs before them.

"Wait!" she ordered.

She stopped, and the men halted behind her, weaving on their feet. Shestared around us as if desperately trying to recall something deeplyimbedded in the matrix of the past; then she veered to the right,waving for Vulc and the men to follow.

Mark tested his oxygen tank and glanced at the dial again. It read "tenminutes." It was a race with time which now, perversely, seemed to berushing by on flying feet.

Thirty yards further, the cliffs curved in sharply. Rounding it, theCommander gave a glad cry. In the center was a gigantic metal door,hermetically sealing what had once been the entrance to a cave. The menstaggered forward, some of them clawing feebly at the barrier. Otherssank wordlessly to the rocky ground. They weren't even sure thatbeyond that metal wall they would find life-giving air.

The Commander had drawn both atom-pistols, and stood there surveyingthe barrier as if paralyzed.

"What are you waiting for?" Mark pressed forward. "In minutes, the menwill be dying! Blast an opening!"

For the very first time, Mark saw her hesitant, indecisive, as ifunable to think. "But the air ..." she managed to gasp. "It will escapefrom the caves, clear back to the Base! All those men there ... andfather ... their lives are more important than ours!"

In those brief seconds Mark admired her. Despite the deadly threat tothe Earth she embodied, he admired her for her humanity and loyaltyto the men at the Base. But there was no time to lose. He made herdecision superfluous.

"We've got to chance it!" With a swift, darting movement he wrested anatom-blast gun from her hand and discharged it steadily at the metaldoor, at a point just above the ground. A second later she was helpinghim with the other gun. Instantly the metal turned fiery red, thenwhite, and finally a circular section fell outward with a hissing rushof air.

"Dive in, men!" With the dregs of a strength he didn't know he stillpossessed, Mark grasped the men and pushed them toward the aperture,helped shove them through. "Throw your helmets back!" he shouted. "Inyou go," he told the Commander, and despite her protests he lifted heroff her feet, almost handing her through the blasted entrance.

Only Vulc and Mark were left. As the Earthman crawled through, hemotioned for Vulc to follow. The metallic being dropped to all foursand pushed in his arms, his head, his massive shoulders. His sidesscraped the still hot edges of the aperture. And there he stuck.The men inside grasped his arms and pulled, but in vain. Vulc gazedludicrously from side to side and heaved prodigiously, but in vain. TheVulcanian seemed molded to the hole.

"Wait! Tell him not to struggle, not to move!" Mark was exultant as heturned to the girl. "The air's no longer rushing away; if he'll onlyremain there until we can get back with equipment to seal that hole,the danger's over!"

Vulc seemed to be pondering; his limbs sprawled like a distortedswastika, and on his usually blank, fluid face was something likesurprise. In the dim recesses of his alien mind he could find noparallel to this.

The Commander spoke to him slowly, with desperate emphasis; reachinginto a pocket of her suit, she brought out another package of powderedmetal which Vulc promptly stuffed into his mouth. "He understands," shesaid at last. "But I'll leave one of you here with him, to be certainhe does."

For a while they rested, lying prone, helmets thrown back, luxuriatingin the comparative coolness and the draughts of pure air. All werethirsty, their throats parched and aching. But the nightmare was over.Presently the Commander rose to her feet and gave the order to march.She was almost her usual self again, detached, impersonal. But she waswhite to the lips and her eyes were electric as she said:

"Luhor will pay for this!"

She barely breathed it, but Mark heard her. And he knew what she meant.It was Luhor who had prepared the units of oxygen for the suits.

VII

Under the dim illumination maintained even as far as these outlyingcaves, the group went grimly on. Their passage through the tortuouscorridors was dotted by discarded vacuum suits. But no echoes driftedback to them from the activity of the Base.

Twice they lost their way, ending up against blank rock walls andretracing their steps. But at last the inter-connecting tunnel chainbecame familiar to the Commander.

"She blames Luhor for the oxygen business!" Mark murmured to Carstonwalking beside him.

"Should!" Carston exclaimed laconically, grimly. "Aladdian warned usagainst Luhor, remember? There'll be hell to pay when we get back!Any monkey-wrench thrown into the machinery of their plans, helps theEarth. I hope...."

He broke off, staring moodily ahead.

"She's far more human than you think," Mark Denning said softly.

"Yes, I noticed that today." Carston's voice sounded glad. "It's onlythe Spartan training she learned while cruising the spacelanes withher piratical father that keeps her up—that, and the old man's insanewill, driving her on through a sense of loyalty to him."

They were so near to the Base now that Mark expected momentarily tohear the clang of metal in the factories, the voices of workmen. Hisheart quickened at the thought of seeing Aladdian, and he forgot hisweariness in embroidering upon that thought.

But the ominous stillness remained unbroken.

They entered the final corridor leading to the vast central chamber.The Commander ran forward, with the anxious men close behind her. Theyentered the grotto. The subterranean Base extended into the distancebefore their startled, unbelieving eyes.

"What—" Cynthia began bewilderedly.

It was a dead city, soundless and inert. Under the distant cavern roofit had the air of a ghost town drained of all life.

Mark's heart leaped into his mouth. "Aladdian!" he cried involuntarily,and his hands clenched in an agony of anxiety of helpless rage.

Commander Cynthia was already running toward the palace, a deathly fearmirrored in her eyes.

The men had stopped uncertainly, too weary and exhausted to understand.Then driven by a single thought, they staggered off to their buildingin search of water and food.

Scarcely had the echoes of Mark's cry stopped reverberating, when fromthe shadows of a transverse corridor emerged the elfin figure of theVenusian.

Aladdian gazed at Mark as if he had returned from the dead. She closedher eyes, swayed a little. Mark caught her in his arms. He too wassilent. No words would serve.

"To the palace!" she finally breathed, gently disengaging herself.Followed by Carston, they hurried to the imposing building where oldGeorge Marnik reigned. Aladdian led them swiftly through the panelledouter hall, through the magnificent salon where the loot from manyyears was a fabulous welter of wealth. Mark had no eyes for it now.They did not stop until they reached the inner chambers and finallycame to George Marnik's room, where no one but Cynthia was everpermitted.

Lying grotesquely twisted on the priceless Martian tapestry thatcovered the bed, the ancient pirate was dead. Cynthia Marnik waskneeling beside him, weeping softly. There was no doubt as to themanner of his death. The pencil-thin opening through his temple couldonly have been done by an atom-blast.

"Luhor," Aladdian said, indicating the wound with a gesture.

They withdrew, leaving Cynthia alone with her grief. The two menfollowed the Venusian girl to the immense palace dining-room. With herown hands she served them food and drink, asking no questions, utteringno words until their vast hunger and thirst were appeased. Then she satdown.

"And so," she began without preamble, "the unpredictable has entered."At their rush of questions she held up a hand. "Let me explain," shebegged. "I can do it briefly if you are silent. After you left, Luhorordered every man here to go aboard the Spacer. He blasted down twoor three who refused; you will find them in the air-lock. Previousto that, I heard him arguing with George Marnik. He atom-blastedMarnik from behind. I know, because I deliberately contacted his mind,although the effort nearly drove me mad; it is not easy for us to tuneto an alien intellect, but Luhor being partly Venusian helped."

"The miracle is that he didn't take you with him," Carston ventured."You were too valuable to leave behind!"

"When we came here yesterday," she said simply, "I studied the plansof these caverns. When I learned what was in Luhor's mind, I hid in amaze of abandoned corridors. They searched for me a while, but sincehe plans to return, he gave up the search for the present. He had notime to waste! The Patrol has been to the Prison Swamp; failing to findeither of you, and learning of my disappearance, Earth has mobilizedits fleet!"

"How—how do you know this?" Both men leaned tensely forward.

"Through the ethero-magnum George Marnik has in his laboratoryhere—the most powerful receiving and transmission instrument I've everseen, greater even than the ethero-magnum we have on Venus!"

"So that's how he kept always a step ahead of the Patrol," Carstonmused. "The scientists he used to kidnap from space-liners—he musthave forced them to perfect scientific inventions here!"

"Yes," the Venusian girl nodded, "but I haven't told you the mostimportant part, Luhor's plan. If he succeeds, there will be no peace.He has taken the men to the asteroid where Marnik's new fleet of spacevessels are to be assembled. But worse than that—they are also tofit gigantic rockets to the asteroid itself! It is very dense, andgreatly pitted, which simplifies things. With the rockets of this newmetal he can guide the asteroid's course! It will be the terror ofspace, literally invulnerable, with banks of immense electro-cannon andatom-blasts, and cradling a swarm of the new Spacers!"

Ernest Carston could only hold his head in his hands. Earth's greatestenemy had died in Marnik, but a greater, more ruthless one had arisenin Luhor!

"Go on, Aladdian, please," Mark's tones were reassuring.

"Luhor does not suspect that I contacted his mind. He believes all ofyou have died in the wastes—I got that from his mind, too. Since hewill return, because Vulcan's to be the seat of his empire, and hewants me, we have time to plan how we are going to receive him. He'spersuaded that the only living being on Vulcan now is a defenselessgirl." She smiled enigmatically.

"But that asteroid! That hellish threat to Earth!" Carston was besidehimself.

"And to Venus, and Mars," Aladdian reminded him gently. "It will takemonths for those rockets to be installed, Earthman. He will be herelong before that, I am certain of it—as only a woman can be certain."She raised her eyes and gazed at the doorway.

Framed at the entrance to the dining-room, Cynthia Marnik stood lookingsomberly and dry-eyed. Aladdian rose swiftly and went over to her.

"My dear ..." the Venusian said softly, a world of compassion inher voice. Cynthia smiled wanly and took the tumbler of water thatCarston extended to her. She drank dazedly and then sat down with theinexpressible weariness of one whose world has come tumbling downabout her head. Aladdian darted to the kitchen and upon returning madethe Earth girl drink a cup of concentrate, then led her away, to herbedroom. "You must sleep," Aladdian was saying softly, monotonously,with a hypnotic cadence in her voice.

"I wonder if it will be safe to arm the men?" Carston questionedthoughtfully, his mind grappling with the problem.

"That's a chance we'll have to take," Mark Denning replied. "A fewamong them are not really hardened criminals, but are politicals, asyou know. I think they will all fight for us, provided we can offerthem freedom when, and if, we win."

"I can make them no promises not sanctioned by the Earth Council,"Carston said stiffly. "Remember, their lives are forfeit!"

"And so will ours be, if you don't snap out of that single-track rut inwhich you've grooved your brain!" Mark exclaimed acidly. "Council or noCouncil, the Earth, Venus, Mars and the colonies must be saved! This isno time to quibble about ethics. A hell of a lot will be left of yourCouncil if we don't stop Luhor!"

"You startle me sometimes, Mark Denning. You do not sound as a trueservant of the Earth State!"

"Because to you," Mark said slowly, "the State is the few decrepitmembers calling themselves the Council, and the top-heavy Government ofEarth. But to me, the 'State' are the millions and billions of humanbeings whose destinies are ruled by a self-appointed few, and who arenow facing even a worse slavery if we don't succeed in being whatAladdian calls 'the unpredictable!'"

Carston's face flushed with anger. He drew himself to his full heightas he said, "I represent the Government of Earth, which rules thePlanets—and I am your superior officer!"

"You're wrong!" Mark Denning countered, rising too. "I'm a free agentas of this moment, and recognize no superior. I'll not be hamstrung byrules and regulations which can't serve us now, Carston!"

"No need to quarrel," Aladdian spoke placidly from the doorway where,unnoticed, she had been listening. "Because only I and Cynthia can maketerms with Earth, if we survive."

"You and Commander Cynthia?" Carston exclaimed. "Both of your liveshave been forfeit. I doubt if the Council will be willing to listen toany terms coming from you."

Mark Denning's face was stained by a dull flush, and he took a stepforward; but Aladdian laid her hand lightly on his arm and stopped him.

"The Colonel belongs to the old order," she said very softly, "it isdifficult for him to adjust himself to a changing universe. But thistime it is beyond his control."

"Why?" Carston uttered the word grimly.

"Because through the ethero-magnum I have already warned Venus andMars. My planet is being mobilized. Mars will soon take the necessarysteps. But the most important reason of all, is that Earth has nomeans of landing a fleet on Vulcan, does not know the location ofLuhor's asteroid, and does not even suspect the existence of the newallotropic metal."

Carston looked baffled as the Venusian girl spoke, then turned to MarkDenning with the expression of a man who for once felt hopelessly lost.

"I can promise the men who aid us a fortune to each," Aladdiancontinued, "and the leisure to spend it—on Venus. As for the Earth,"she said thoughtfully—"only Commander Cynthia and I know the formulafor the new metal, and the location of the asteroid!"

"I will talk to the men!" Mark said with a finality that left no doubt."Let them rest for a few hours, then I'll see to it that they're onour side. I know how to rouse them. Wait until they learn that Luhorshort-changed them on oxygen! How much backing can you expect fromVenus, Aladdian?"

"To the last man," she said quietly. "They have already seen me throughthe ethero-magnum, and heard my story. I intercepted the Tri-PlanetaryBeam as the Earth broadcast, and transmitted our beam along theirchannel. By the time Earth's Government set out their interceptor toneutralize my beam, it was already too late; the three planets areseething!"

"And Luhor? Wouldn't he have picked up your beam on the Spacer andheard you?"

Aladdian shrugged. "He knows I'm here. The confusion created by mybroadcast only served to aid his plans for the moment. He has nothingto fear, as far as he knows. A war between the planets would only makehis conquest simpler."

"And knowing that," Carston spoke bitterly, "you still broadcast yourstory and let your image be seen! Do you suppose Venus will ever becontent now with anything short of war?"

"Yes, I do. We are intelligent beings, not Martian atavisms, nor do wehave your Earth's insane will to Power. We only want peace and withit freedom. But the game is ruthless, Carston, the universe is thestake!" Aladdian turned to leave.

"Mark," she said gently from the doorway, "Cynthia can show you wherethe arsenal is located; you'll find every imaginable weapon. Also, youhad better study the combination that opens the air-locks, and thesynchronized degravitators. I suspect that Luhor will be back heresoon—very soon."

Suddenly the terrific reaction of that day hit Mark with sickeningimpact. He was hardly able to rise to his feet. Carston was slumpedover the table; Mark went over and shook him gently, and somehow aidedthe older man to his feet. Together they went into the fabulouslyfurnished salon, and unable to go any further, threw themselves oncouches piled with priceless rugs and embroidered scarves from thevarious planets. Carston instantly was asleep.

Despite his utter weariness, Mark slept fitfully, awakening anddropping back to sleep as the hours passed in their eternal caravan.Something clamored at the back of his brain, something he had forgottenbecause of the major crisis they'd had to confront on their return tothe Base.

And suddenly he sat upright. The overhead lights had automaticallydimmed, no one was stirring. With a shock, Mark had remembered Vulc andthe man they had left to watch him! He leaped to his feet, aching inevery bone, and ran to the building where the men were quartered.

"If Vulc gets tired of waiting and wriggles through that hole!..." Hetried not to think of the rest.

He burst into the building and roused the men. "Up, on your feet,there's no time to waste!" His terrible urgency instilled them with anameless fear, prodding them as nothing else would have done.

"Your lives are at stake," he told them bluntly, and reminded them ofVulc. "At any moment he might decide he's waited long enough. Who amongyou knows how to repair that breach?"

Three of the men came forward. "All right," Mark told them, "hurry tothe shops and get what instruments and materials you need—but hurry!"

The men could not return to sleep now, knowing that at any moment theBase's life-giving air might go rushing away. This emergency, followingso close upon the other hardships of the day, seemed too much. Marksaw that they were all very near the breaking point. Now was thepsychological moment to speak to them, and by giving them the entirepicture, lift them above the present crisis as well as inspire themwith hope for the future.

Calmly he told of Luhor's treachery in giving them a short oxygensupply, with the intention of murdering them all. Deliberately, withcalculated phrases, he aroused their hatred and thirst for revenge.

Mark paused, letting it sink in, giving time for their dark passionsto reach a peak. Then he told of Luhor's asteroid, and the threat tothe planets. He dangled before their eyes the promise of untold wealth,and freedom on Venus for the rest of their lives. To give his promisesauthority and weight, he made no bones about the fact that he was ahigh operative of the Tri-Planetary Bureau of Prisons—but he climaxedit with the guarantee of a blanket pardon from the Earth Council itself.

"You will see and hear the Council on the ethero-magnum, but we shallbe making the terms," Mark Denning said forcefully. "There's no trickin this, you have everything to gain and nothing to lose! In theSwamp, your lives were forfeit; they were forfeit here on Vulcan too.I promise you wealth on Venus, and the freedom you'll never have anyother way! Who's with me?"

He need not have asked, for the clamor that answered him wasaffirmative and unanimous. Gone for the moment was their fatigue, asthey embroidered upon the possibilities of the days to come.

Not until the trio returned from repairing the breach, bringing Vulcwith them, did the men return to their sleep with the first and onlyhope they had had in years. Only Mark Denning realized the trials tocome. These few men had been won over easily. Not so easy would bethe negotiated terms with Earth. The Earth Government had won itsdominance over the System the hard way, only after a bitter ten-years'inter-planetary war, and it would not easily relinquish its position.

VIII

The days that followed were eternities to the little group leftstranded on Vulcan Base. Nerves were taut and tempers were short. Everyman there, as well as the two women, realized that their very lives aswell as the fate of the System depended on the day of Luhor's returnfrom the asteroid.

Mark had aroused the men too well. They were impatient and restless.They didn't want their freedom handed to them on a silver platter,they wanted to fight for it. Aladdian had said Luhor would be backsoon—very soon. Mark questioned her about it.

"Even with that fast Spacer," Aladdian replied, "it will take himseveral days to get out to that asteroid and back again. Cynthia tellsme her father sent a crew of men there a month ago, to assemble thenew Spacers. Luhor will undoubtedly win them all to his side, and bringhalf of them back to continue the work here. Cynthia says—"

"Cynthia seems to have confided a lot in you!" Mark exclaimed with asudden, unexplainable suspicion.

Aladdian smiled wearily, and slowly shook her head. "You are demotedback to the lower order, Mark Denning," she said with a hint of thesame mockery Mark had known in the Swamp. "Cynthia Marnik needs ourhelp now. She only carried out her father's orders, but now that thedynasty is crumbling about her ears, she's bewildered and a littlefrightened. Something else has happened to her too, for the first timein her life."

"What's that?"

"Never mind," Aladdian said enigmatically. "Ernest Carston knows.It will turn out all right. Meanwhile you had better put the menhere to work, it will help pass the time. Goodbye ... Mark." Like anazure-winged elf she hurried back to the laboratory where she spentmost of her time.

That was the first instance Mark could remember when Aladdian hadcalled him by his first name, and he liked it.

He called the men together and assigned them to posts at the furnaces,where they continued to turn out the metal that would be fashionedinto the super rocket-tubes. Earth was massing its fleet and Venus wasmobilizing. Mark realized that if a truce could not be called, theywould need every one of the outlaw Spacers on the asteroid, and othersas well. He took a few of the men with him to the arsenal, where theybegan to get every available weapon in readiness for the Tri-Planetaryshowdown that was sure to come.

"Tell the men to stop work," Aladdian said to Mark two days later,"then bring them to the laboratory. They have as much right as weto know what is happening. I have been working on the ethero-magnumsender, and I shall try to contact both Venus and Earth."

They gathered in the magnificent laboratory George Marnik had erected.Here, various machines were arranged in preponderant array, but allwere dwarfed by the imposing ethero-magnum in the center of the room.Hidden atomomotors hummed a smooth and powerful threnody. The controlpanel, as tall as Aladdian herself, connected to huge coils of radicaldesign which themselves led to the televise, a huge sensitized sheet ofmetal reaching clear up to the ceiling.

Carston, an Earth patriot to the end, watched these activities withmisgivings. But he was silent, curiously so, and Mark wondered at it.

Mark was soon to know the reason for Carston's silence, and to realizethat the Earth official did not give up so easily....

"I want you all to stand back against the walls," Aladdian said, "outof range of the televise. Luhor may pick this up, and he must not knowthere is anyone here but me."

She operated the dials quickly, surely, with tendril-like fingers. Afaint, far away voice was heard droning monotonously. "Earth is sendingto Venus now," Aladdian said, never once removing her gaze from thedancing dials before her. "If I can intercept the Earth beam, I can getmy message to Venus through that channel, by drowning them out. I didit once before."

The sound of the voice increased, and words became distinguishable.They were haranguing, dictatorial—undoubtedly one of the Earth Councilspeaking to Venus. At the same time the huge metallic sheet aboveAladdian's head took on a silvery glow, and a wavering scene began toappear. The scene was a crowded city square, with thousands of facesupturned to a televise screen atop one of the buildings.

"That is N'Vaarl, Capitol City of Venus," Aladdian murmured. "Theyare listening to the Earth broadcast. Now I will let them see me."Automatically her hand reached out, and grasped a lever which she threwdownward. The atomomotors shrieked as they absorbed the increasedpower, and soon the sound rose above the audible. At the same time theEarth voice was drowned out, and the scene at N'Vaarl became very clearto the watchers in the room.

On the huge public televise screen at N'Vaarl, the image of Aladdian,Princess of Venus and daughter of Bedrim the Liberator, becamevisible. The crowd did not cheer, but awaited her message, knowing thatat any moment the Earth would throw off the beam when it realized whatwas happening.

"Greetings, my people!" Aladdian spoke quickly. "As I told you before,Earth is mobilizing its fleet and I know that you are preparing for anycontingency. That is well, but I entreat you not to act in any manneruntil you have heard further from me! There is a greater danger thanthat of Earth! I am safe and well, I cannot come to you now, but soon—"

In that moment the Earth beam ceased, and the scene on the televiseblanked out. Aladdian turned with a satisfied smile to Mark and Cynthiaand the others. "It is enough that they saw me. My people will not actnow without word from me. I hope I shall never have to give that word."

"Aladdian," Mark spoke worriedly, "isn't it a risk for you to broadcastat all? The Earth Government doesn't know your present whereabouts, butif they were to send out tracer beams and learn you were operating fromVulcan ... well, it's true that no Patrol ship is equipped to land onVulcan, but they could bottle us up here—"

Ernest Carston, who had been silent but eternally watchful, becamesuddenly tense at Mark's words.

"They have sent out tracer beams," Aladdian replied, "but withthis instrument I can neutralize them all." Fondly she touched theethero-magnum by her side. "Anyway, the immediate danger is not fromEarth, but from Luhor. Let us not forget that! And I must warn Earth,must make them understand."

She turned to the dialed panel again, and even as her fingers madeswift connections, she continued to speak. "It may not be easy toestablish a direct channel from here to Earth, but I think I havecompleted a new trans-telector beam on which George Marnik was working.It should do away with the magnetic disturbance caused by our closeproximity to the sun. We shall see."

Again the atomomotors whined and ascended the scale. This time, therewas a new exultant note. Minutes passed, then the overhead screenbegan to take on a hazy, shifting blur. Aladdian's fingers movedunerringly on the dials. The blur came suddenly, sharply into focus.

Carston, standing against the far wall next to Mark Denning, leanedtensely forward, his eyes aglow. The scene on the televise was theEarth Council. Carston almost leaped forward in his excitement, butMark gripped his arm tightly.

Aladdian was speaking to the Council. In slow, matter-of-fact tones shetold of George Marnik, of the new metal, of Luhor and Luhor's plans.She told of the asteroid and the fleet being assembled there, withoutrevealing the asteroid's position. She described the properties of thenew metal but was careful not to hint of its source.

"I seek to warn you," Aladdian's voice came fervent and clear. "You areplunging into disaster. It is not my people I think of now, but theTri-Planet Federation! If you continue to mobilize your fleet I am notsure I can control the Irreconcilables among my people—I certainlycannot control Dar Vaajo of Mars, who is headstrong beyond reason. Itwill mean an hecatomb in space, with Luhor holding his asteroid inreadiness for the final blow!"

"This Luhor and the formidable asteroid of which you speak," came thecold, sneering voice of the Earth Coordinator. "Tell us more of them.Give us the location of the asteroid."

Aladdian hesitated for an instant. "No. That I cannot do."

"You cannot, because no such asteroid and no such metal exists! Youwould try to frighten us with this story of a demon asteroid and asuper space fleet! It would not be that you seek to gain time for yourpeople to rally to you, now that they know you have escaped the PrisonSwamp? Or perhaps you need time in which to coordinate your resourceswith those of Dar Vaajo of Mars! Let us advise you, Aladdian, thatwithin a week the main body of our fleet will be at Venus, and it willnot go well with your Irreconcilables. We shall know how to handle themthis time, we shall not be so lenient as before! Perhaps, in orderto spare them, you will wish to give yourself up to us, daughter ofBedrim!"

Aladdian's slender body grew taut as though struck by a whip lash. Witha single sweep of the control lever she cut off the beam. Dazedly shecrossed the room, oblivious to the murmurs of the others; her usuallyalabaster face was now chalk white beneath her curling blue-black hair,her lips were pressed tight but they trembled nevertheless.

At the laboratory door Mark caught her arm, walked beside her."Aladdian," he choked. "I—"

She became aware of him then, smiled up at him through her bitterness.

"Aladdian, I am—I just wanted to say—I'm sorry I'm an Earthman!"

She stopped suddenly, faced him, took one of his hands in both of hers."No, Mark! Do not say that, do not ever say it. For you are more thanthat ... much more...."

IX

It was night, and the overhead lights in the corridors were dimmed.Ernest Carston tossed restlessly in his bed. He could not sleep, he hadbeen unable to sleep since seeing and hearing the Earth Council on theethero-magnum.

Carston arose, and dressed quickly. Silently he crossed the room tothe outer door, and stepped out into the corridor. He paced slowly,aimlessly, his brow knit in deep thought. Finally he made a decision,and turned his footsteps in the direction of the palace and thelaboratory. He was still an Earth official; he had known all the timethat he would have to take matters here into his own hands.

Before he reached the corridor leading to the laboratory, however,he heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Carston leaped back into theshadows just as a lone figure emerged from one of the transversecorridors. It passed very close to him, and he saw that it was CynthiaMarnik; her face seemed very white, and her steps were hurried.

Carston's heart quickened a pace, as he followed her at a safedistance, keeping to the shadows. She continued along the maincorridor, past the men's quarters and past the furnaces. With a shock,Carston realized she was heading for the outer air-lock.

He reached there in time to see the huge door slide open, then Cynthiastepped through, and the door closed. Carston waited, giving her timeto leave the tunnel, before he followed. Finally he entered the tunnelhimself, having long since learned how to operate the mechanism ofthese doors. Cynthia was gone; the outer doors were closed.

Carston hurried down the long tunnel. The magnetic degravitizing coilsalong each side were silent now, would remain so until the Spacer'sreturn. Carston reached the racks of vacuum suits near the outer door,quickly donned one and was soon outside the Base.

Against the sun-swept horizon, a hundred yards away, he could easilydiscern Cynthia's metal-encased figure. She kept close to the shadowsat the foot of the low lying cliffs. Not once did she look back. Aquarter of a mile further, she turned sharply, entered a narrow,steep-walled canyon.

Puzzled, Carston hurried forward. He reached the canyon and entered it,realizing that this must be one of the few places on Vulcan's surfacewhere there was anything simulating night; it wasn't really dark, butsort of a twilight gloom between the rock cliffs sheering upward.

And he saw Cynthia. She hadn't gone far. Her vacuum-suited figure stoodvery still, and she seemed to be staring up at the immensity of space.Carston crept closer, came very near indeed, until he could see theprofiled whiteness of her face beneath the helmet.

Carston stared too, following her gaze. At first he didn't see a thing.Then, high on the horizon, out of the sun's glare, right between thecanyon walls ... he caught the bright blue glint of a star. He suddenlyrealized what it was, and with a sharp intake of breath he whispered:"Earth!"

She must have had her helmet phones on. She turned slowly to face him,and Carston was startled at the clear-cut radiance of her face.

"It's the Earth, yes ... it's beautiful. There's no other place on thisplanet where you can see it like that, and then only when the positionis right. Sometimes not for months...."

Carston stepped quickly to her side. Cynthia averted her face, butnot before he saw the glint of tears in her eyes, and the lengtheningglimmer of one that rolled down her cheek beneath the transparenthelmet.

For an instant, Carston was dumbfounded. Then a vast exultation surgedwithin him. "I knew it!" he whispered fiercely. "Almost from the firstmoment I saw you, I sensed there was something artificial beneath yourmask of hardness. This is it! You don't hate Earth at all, Cynthia,you've never hated it!"

"Yes," she spoke softly, her voice deepening. "I've never hated Earth.It was only father—" Abruptly she stopped, and her gaze strayed towhere the blue star shone like an aquamarine ablaze. "I can't rememberclearly; it's like a vague dream—but I have a dim vision of greenfields and golden light, and clouds in an unreal blue sky; and treesbeside a wide lake, with a crisp tang of air, different from the airhere. To me, that's Earth. I was born there." Her voice faded, and asif from a great distance Carston heard her say, "Oh perhaps it's just adream."

"No, it's not a dream," Carston whispered, standing very close to hernow. "It's part of you, it belongs to you! All Earthians feel that outhere, a yearning to get back. Cynthia, I've loved you from the veryfirst ... didn't you know? Let me take you back with me, out of thismadness that can only mean death for us all!" He stopped, at the sightof her upturned face, white and wan.

"I guessed. Yes, I know. I've been waiting a long time to hear you saythis. And I'd go with you, Carston, but how is it possible now? Mylife's forfeit, you yourself said so!"

Now Carston was very sure of himself. "No, my dear," he said softly,trying to filter the triumph from his voice. "Your life's not forfeitif you help prevent the carnage and destruction that Aladdian's maddream will bring about. She doesn't know, she can't know the awfulpower of Earth's fleet. Luhor's vaunted super-cruisers will be so manyleaves scattered in the void. This allotropic metal on which his hopeof invincibility is based, can be neutralized and destroyed!"

"But how? What can we do?" Cynthia's voice held a note of despair, asher hand unconsciously went out to his.

"We can give Earth the location of Luhor's asteroid, and the secret ofVulcan!" He said it so softly, so insinuatingly that it was little morethan a thought. "I can promise you an absolute pardon, my dear—more!I can promise you honor for aiding Earth. The Council knows how toreward, as it knows how to punish."

"But Aladdian and Mark? Would it not mean death, or worse, for themboth?" She shuddered, as a vision of the Swamp came before her eyes. "Icould never condemn them to that," she thought aloud.

"With my influence, I can get amnesty for them—leniency at least,"Carston said with the glibness of one to whom nothing mattered but theultimate task that must be accomplished at all costs. "All Earth wantsis to avoid another war. If we make it possible for Earth's fleet tocapture Luhor and neutralize the asteroid, I'm certain the Council willpardon Aladdian and Mark." He pressed her hand confidently in both ofhis.

She seemed to hesitate, but Carston knew she had already made upher mind. "If you're sure you can obtain the pardon—and stop thissenseless war—yes—yes, my dear, I'll give the Earth Council anyinformation you wish—"

Her voice dwindled and stopped as Carston took her into his arms.He, himself, was white and trembling with the reaction of havingaccomplished his task. Over her shoulder he could see the twinklingblue dot of Earth. He smiled, and it was a very smug smile. His breathwas long and trembling, but his intense emotion at the moment was notakin to love.

X

"Soon, now."

Carston's murmur echoed eerily against the shrill hum of theatomomotors in the upper scales. The phantasmal glow of the selectorscreens suffused the chamber. Selenic cells poured additional powerinto the trans-telector beam as Cynthia's fingers trembled over theshining dials. Carston, standing beside her, was white-faced and tense.

Slowly a shifting blur materialized on the huge televise of theethero-magnum. It focused, and the thin-lipped, ascetic features of theEarth Coordinator materialized in the immense Council room of Earth.The Council in full session surrounded him. All were intent on theirreceiving screens, on which Carston and Cynthia were reflected.

Cynthia stepped nervously aside, and Carston came forward. He bowedlow. Then his voice, hoarse with uncontrollable elation, rose ingreeting.

"Your Beneficence, and Elders of the Council! I am speaking fromVulcan, the long-sought base of Captain George Marnik, where I havebeen a prisoner for many months! But no longer. This," he gesturedhesitantly, "is Cynthia, George Marnik's daughter, for whom I beseechthe Coordinator's and the Council's clemency for the service she isabout to do."

Then in slow and measured words Carston told in detail all that hadhappened, beginning with his own release from the Swamp by Cynthia,relating Luhor's murder of Marnik, and finally telling of the asteroidwhere Luhor's space cruisers were being assembled, and of the newallotropic metal being mined on Vulcan. Then he motioned for Cynthia tocome forward.

The Coordinator had listened in silence, his grim face impassive. Everyeye in the Council room was unwaveringly on the screen, and the silencelay heavy between two distant worlds. Slowly, Cynthia walked toward theethero-magnum sender, a sheaf of note paper in her hand. She smiledwanly, but confidently at Carston. Then in a colorless voice she readher mathematical figures giving the position of the asteroid in space,and the formula for the shortest approach from Vulcan, as the key forcomputation of the trajectory from Earth. Without animation, she gavethe formula for the allotropic metal process, and the secret of theentrance to Vulcan.

Then she fell silent. As if she didn't know what to do, she turned toCarston and caught for a fleeting instant the smug smile of triumph onhis lips; but before she could comprehend its meaning, it was gone.

"Will ... will I be pardoned?" Cynthia questioned aloud, more toCarston than to the Coordinator on the screen.

But the silence in the Council room of Earth persisted, as busymathematicians already were furiously computing the mathematicalformulae. A thin, contemptuous smile had parted the Coordinator's lips.It was the first time Carston had ever seen him smile, and the roomwhere he and Cynthia stood, although millions of miles distant, seemedcolder suddenly as that glacial glimmer came through the screen.

Carston opened his lips to speak. "Your Beneficence," he began—

But suddenly, catapulted from the deepening darkness of the corridors,an azure-winged figure with curved hands outstretched fell like anavenging fury upon Carston's back! Dainty hands, suddenly transformedinto claws, dug like spikes of steel; a supple body too ethereal forstrength, now seemed made of metal as the Venusian girl attacked himwith a savagery that brought every man of Earth's distant Council roomto his feet!

Close on her heels Mark Denning had barely time to separate the tangledfigures. Carston's face dripped blood where Aladdian's fingernails hadfurrowed deep. Cynthia seemed rooted to the spot. So incredibly swifthad it been, that the battle was over in seconds. Aladdian's eyes werepools of fire as she faced the Council. Her streaming hair seemed toshimmer as she spat her venom into the screen.

"Very well, send your space fleet, you clumsy fools! Let your madnesscondemn the planets to a bath of blood! Yes, you have the formula forthe allotropic metal—but what good is it to you without a source ofsupply? You have the location of the asteroid—but do you suppose yourfleet can stand against such a mobile fortress as Luhor will make it?But it's a waste of words, I know I can never convince you. Only deathand destruction can. But this I do tell you! Never, never again willyou enslave Venus! Never again will you imprison me in that inhumanSwamp, and never will you land on Vulcan! For I have one weapon left,one which only we of Venus possess. We have used it once on Mars, oncein our history only, for we are not warlike. But before Luhor and theMartian hordes overrun my planet and yours as he certainly can, Iwill use this weapon, Earthian!"

On the screen, the Coordinator's face was livid. "Arrest her," he saidacross the immense distance to Carston. "In the name of the SupremeCouncil of the Tri-Planetary Federation, arrest her! Her life'sforfeit!"

But Carston stood motionless, pale as death, suddenly confronted by thegrim figure of Mark who gripped an electro-pistol in his hand.

At this veritable moment, out of the void, cutting in on the beam likethe disembodied cachination of some strange creature, wave upon wave ofgigantic mirth poured on two worlds! And as every participant of thisdrama stood tense, watching their screens, there slowly emerged thehalf-breed figure of Luhor, his gargantuan laughter still roaring inuncontrollable paroxysms.

"So that's it!" Luhor managed to choke between spasms. "Whatentertainment you have provided me with—and what information! Andto think, Aladdian, that I'd planned to make you my empress. Why, mylittle dove has claws!" he exclaimed admiringly. His immense, ugly bulkdominated the entire screen, as his bellowing laughter began again.

The Earth Coordinator, almost beside himself, threw a master switch;the televise screens of two worlds flickered and went blank, thepulsing whine of the atomomotors was like a dirge.

Cynthia passed a trembling hand across her eyes, and her gaze waveredbefore Aladdian's accusing stare. She glanced briefly at Carston with aslowly dawning wonderment, as if an awareness of his aims had begun toawaken within her.

"I—I'm afraid I've made a mess of things," she said in a slow, deepvoice. "Ever since father's death, I seem to have lost my grip. I'm sosorry, Aladdian, I thought it was for the best; Carston assured me we'dbe pardoned...." Her voice trailed off as she turned her face away fromthem all.

"I should burn you!" Mark Denning said to Carston in a cold, tightvoice, and Carston went white. "You've managed to wreck our plansabout as completely as possible. If the Earth blasts Luhor out ofspace, we face surrender or slow starvation. If Luhor wins, he canstarve us out or blast his way in here with his allotropic cruisers,now that he's forewarned by you. Either way we lose—but I guaranteeyou, Carston, you won't come out of this easily!" Each word was likeice, and Aladdian nodded slowly at Mark's words, a strange light in herbrilliant eyes.

"We haven't lost yet, Mark." With a swift motion she crossed to theethero-magnum again, and turned it on. "Remember, I have still aweapon. My people are behind me."

"But Venus doesn't have a fleet! Earth has seen to that."

"Wait." Her unerring precision brought the screen to life in a burstof light. A scene took place, alien, exotic—the imperial palace onVenus. A great crowd stood before it in silence, extending into thedistance, as if the park-like expanse had become a place of pilgrimage.In eternal vigil all faced the televise screen that rose from the floorlevel to the top of the palace. Fantastic blue-green mountains filledthe background, dwarfing the small fragile figure that materialized onthe receiving screen.

"My people, I speak to you for the third, perhaps for the last time—"There was a world of yearning in the cello-like voice as Aladdianopened her arms toward them. A cyclonic roar burst forth in tribute andgreeting, but quickly died down as they awaited her message.

"When I last spoke, I told you not to act without word from me. Ihoped I would never have to give that word, but now I fear I must. Thehour is almost here. What I will ask of you, is the supreme sacrifice.You know what that means. I, too, am prepared to make it. There is noother way. Many will die, but only that the others may avoid an evenworse slavery than they now endure, and that we may attain our rightfulinheritance, an equal place in the Planetary Federation." The voicerose like a stream of music, and tears were in Aladdian's eyes. "Thechoice is yours, my people!"

When the thunderous response had died down in waves of overpoweringsound, Aladdian stood in silence for several moments; in silence, too,the Venusian multitude remained with upturned faces. Mark had an eeriefeeling that a Planet was in tune with the fragile, winged figure.

When the connection had been broken, and once more the laboratory hadreverted to semi-gloom, Mark turned to Carston and removed his weaponsfrom him. "I can't take any chances with you now," he said coldly,"after what you've done. You wanted to become a hero in the eyes of theEarth Council. Well, from now on you'll dance to my tune."

"But not for long!" Carston sneered openly, recovering his poise andconfidence. "The game's up, Denning; you're a renegade to Earth andshall be treated as such. It'll be child's play for Earth's fleet toburn Luhor and his asteroid to a crisp. After that—" He stopped andgrinned contemptuously.

"After that, we'll be taken care of?" It was Aladdian who spoke,and her voice was soft like dark molten gold. "Careful, Mark," sheinterposed quickly, placing her hand on Mark's arm as his griptightened on the electro.

"I don't deserve any lenience," Cynthia said dully. "I've been afool."

Aladdian gazed at the Earth-girl with a universe of pity in her eyes,and a great understanding. "No, my dear," she said softly, "not a fool.Only a girl in love."

"But you!" she lashed at Carston. "You shall reap the whirlwind; and Iassure you, a Venusian whirlwind is beyond your ken!"

XI

"No sign of the asteroid!" Mark Denning's voice was harsh as headdressed the restless group of men milling in front of the laboratory."We've picked up Earth's fleet, that is all; it's now proceeding beyondthe orbit of Mars. Come in and watch if you wish, but it may be hoursyet."

The clang and clamor of the furnaces had long ago ceased, as Vulcanawaited the outcome of the space struggle that would mean so much tothem all. Since Carston's betrayal had become known, the men haddiscussed the situation from every angle. Paradoxically they hoped forLuhor's victory, so that they could deal with the Martian half-breed.At the very worst, death was better than Paradim, which surely awaitedthem again if Earth won in this crisis.

As Earth's fleet in awesome array, advanced toward the asteroid'sposition which Cynthia had given, Aladdian kept a ceaseless vigilat the televise. In far off N'Vaarl, the palace grounds were a seaof upturned Venusian faces intent upon their screen. Dar Vaajo satbrooding on his barbaric throne on Mars, his craggy face dark withpassion, thinking of the upstart Luhor who had wrecked his plans.Within the austere Council chamber of Earth, the Coordinator pacedto and fro before the screen, while the awed Council didn't dare tostir. It hadn't been hard for the ethero-screens of each world to pickout the flaming majesty of Earth's fleet, and they had followed itsprogress for hours. The meteoric speed seemed a snail's pace, acrossthe respective televise panels.

"Look!" Aladdian cried, spilling the cup of hot concentrate Cynthia hadbrought to her.

With electrifying suddenness, the scene in the panel had leaped tovivid life. Concentric whorls of green, disintegrating light flashedfrom all units of Earth's fleet simultaneously, merging into a singleappalling cloud that preceded the fleet itself. To the watchers, thespread of the light seemed slow, but it must have encompassed thousandsof miles.

"But why?" Aladdian breathed, even as she twisted the dials tryingto center the scene more perfectly. "They're not within hours of theasteroid belt, and they will only give their position away to Luhor!"

Carston, Mark and the others had come crowding into the room towatch the scene. Carston whispered, exultantly, "That green light isradio-active disintegrating energy! It merges with whatever it touches,unbalancing the atomic structure of metal. Wait'll they envelop Luhor'sasteroid in that!"

"Yes, I know it well," Aladdian murmured. "They used it in the long waragainst Venus. But there is a neutralizing force now, which even Earthdoes not know. George Marnik developed it, right here on Vulcan Base."

Carston's lips curled, but he said nothing. The sight of Earth'smighty armada sweeping forward on its mission had instilled him with aswaggering confidence. They continued to watch the scene in silence,even as the Earth Council and the people of Venus and Dar Vaajo on Marswere watching.

Still the Fleet swept forward. Minutes passed. The greenish half-circleof light preceded it, beating back the darkness, expanding unimaginabledistances as though reaching out greedy hands.

Then suddenly Aladdian's words came true.

From a point in space far in advance of the Fleet, a tiny white beamof light became visible. It reached out like a slashing saber, swiftlyexpanding and closing the gap of darkness. It came from the asteroiditself, now revealed to the watchers for the first time—merely a tinydark mass that seemed to move forward with infinite caution against theFleet.

"There it is!" Mark breathed. "Luhor's carried his plan through! He'smade a rogue asteroid of it, moved it clear out of the belt—"

Words ceased, as they watched the preliminary maneuvers. The asteroid'sslashing saber of white touched the disintegrating power of the green.But it was the green that disintegrated! Slowly, almost carressingly,the pale beam moved across the advancing blanket of light. Where ittouched, the green dissolved magically as though it had never been.

"That's what I meant. The etheric inertia ray!" Aladdian's murmur wastinged with exultation, as she sensed Carston standing beside her tautwith surprise.

Still the Earth Fleet moved forward in battle formation, in staggeredhorizontal tiers. Impelled by the terrific momentum, it depended uponmaneuverability to escape the impending danger. But, inexorably, theasteroid moved forward also, as if hungry to meet its enemy. Limnedbehind its own ghastly light, it was revealed as a leisurely rotatingmass of rock and mineral, with jagged pinnacles reaching out and deepblack gullies agape.

A blinding lance of electric blue lashed from Earth's Flagship, likea probing finger searching for a weak point. It stabbed Luhor's whiteray and ended in a corruscating upheaval of incandescent light. Theasteroid was very close now; it seemed as if nothing could prevent thatsidereal mass, some ten miles in diameter, from plowing through thetiers of Earth Spacers.

But in that veritable moment when disaster seemed certain, Earth'smassed fleet executed one of the most spectacular feats of navigationthe Universe had ever witnessed. The units literally broke apart andmoved outward into a perfect cone-like formation, with the base, oropen end, toward the asteroid. Again the green radiance, from all sidesnow, went out to envelop the asteroid in a glaucous sheath, as the darkmass drifted into the trap.

"This is it!" Carston gloated hoarsely. "Now watch your asteroidcrumble!" The others said nothing. All were tense, as the tinyten-mile world entered the open end of the cone to what seemed certaindestruction. Now the white etheric inertia ray lashed out savagelyagain, sweeping in swift arcs, but failed to dispel the concentratedwaves of green fire.

Then from the surface of the dark world, Luhor's own space fleetarose—six cruisers only, dwarfed in size by some of Earth's largerships. With blinding speed, the six allotropic cruisers headed for theclosing jaws of the trap.

The Earth Commander was not prepared for such acceleration. It wasunbelievable. He had little time to think, as Luhor's cruisers blastedwith the raking fire of electro-cannon at close range. Three Earthships went hurtling end over end through the void, ripped from sternto bow. Impervious to the wild fire of Earth's Fleet, the allotropiccruisers plowed on. Two Earth cruisers at the jaws of the trap wereunable to maneuver in time. Luhor's ships in a straight line hit themhead-on, plowed through them and out again, leaving behind a tangledwreck of twisted girders and scattered debris.

Luhor's six ships were out of the trap now, and they wheeled in amighty arc, hung chain-poised as though to watch.

Behind, the now glowing asteroid erupted the real destruction. This hadbeen Luhor's plan from the first. The balance of men taken from ParadimSwamp, left on the bleak little world to fight for their lives, nowreleased hidden rocket tubes that blasted in perfectly spaced rotation.The rocky world began to spin, as it plunged ponderously forward. Bankupon bank of electro-cannon lashed out like uncurled blue lightning.Atomite bombs burst among Earth's fleet which surrounded this deadlypinwheel. In less than a minute Earth's vast armada was completelydisorganized, space became a shambles of ripped metal plates, twistedrocket tubes and blasted hulls.

Like a livid, craggy corner of hell running rampant, the rogueasteroid spun faster and faster, spewing annihilation. But this wasits death throes. The concentrated disintegrating glow had takeneffect, and could not now be stopped. The craggy world began tocrumble in great masses of rock and metal like a leprous organism.The few remaining units of the Earthian fleet tried desperately toescape the disintegrating lethal mass—but behind them now, at a safedistance from it all, Luhor's ships barred the way. Pitilessly hiselectro-cannon raked them, impervious to their erratic salvos. HisFlagship with its impossible speed darted among them like a cosmicscimitar, until barely half a dozen of Earth's former armada were ableto flee in scattered disarray.

Half a dozen, out of more than a hundred. Contemptuously, Luhor did noteven deign to pursue.

Where an immense battle fleet and a dwarf world had battled forsupremacy in space, now only shattered metal fragments and adisintegrated rain of mineral and rock remained veiled by cosmicdarkness.

XII

It had been too much and too sudden for speech. Aladdian was on herfeet now, even she was still gripped by the awe of the vast debacle.Mark watched Ernest Carston stumble dazedly from the Laboratory room,the appalling horror in his eyes betraying how intimately Earth'stragedy was his. He'd sent them out there to conquer, and they hadremained to die. No one spoke. The crowding men who'd hoped for avictory by Luhor, even turned away before the magnitude of his power.

The laboratory on Vulcan reflected in miniature the shocked silence offour worlds. They'd seen the mightiest armada of all time reduced tonothing in a space of minutes.

Aladdian was the first to act. With the same beam, through which they'dwatched the holocaust, she contacted Earth. She tuned the Councilchamber where gray faces looked to the Coordinator in bewilderment andfear. But the Coordinator, stricken to the depths of his narrow soul,was incapable of speech. In the oppressive silence Aladdian's wingedfigure materialized on the screen.

"I greet you, Earthians, for the last time." Her molten voice hadovertones of sadness. "You have seen your mighty fleet destroyed. Earthis defenseless. Luhor is on his way to Earth."

"How—how do you know?" The Coordinator was moved to speech now,galvanized into life by a more immediate fear!

"How? Because I am right now in telepathic contact with Luhor's mind."

"We shall fight to the end!"

"Yes, I expected that of you. You would condemn Earth to the same fateas your Fleet. Awaken, Earthmen! No weapon that you have can destroyallotropic metal. You have seen Luhor's ships slice through yourvessels as if they were paper. You're at his mercy now."

Aladdian allowed her words to sink while she widened the beam toinclude Mars and Venus as well as Earth, that her voice might carry tothe entire Federation.

"I am not speaking to you only, now, but to three worlds whose fatedepends on your decision. Agree to what I ask, and the danger fromLuhor will be eliminated."

"What do you ask?" The Coordinator's voice came through as a merewhisper.

"Three things only. Absolute liberation of Venus and Mars, which meansequal representation at the Tri-Planetary Federation Council. Completeabolishment of the inhuman Swamp of Paradim. And Venus to retainVulcan with its allotropic metal as a measure of final safety. Agree tothese points before the assembled peoples of the inhabited planets whoare listening now, and Luhor shall never reach Earth."

On Mars and Earth and Venus her winged figures were reflected, whileher voice cadenced in the ears of untold millions.

"First," came the Coordinator's voice, "how are you to prevent thatfiend Luhor from pursuing his course? And second, what guarantees willwe have that Venus will not build more of the allotropic cruisers toattack?" Although white and shaken, the Coordinator could still snarl.

"I will answer your second question first. As you well know, Venushas never in all her history resorted to war. Rather than kill," hervoice became bitter, "we submitted to Earth's cruel domination. We sawthe inhuman Prison Swamp spring into being, for greed of the Josmianpearls; death and persecution for the sake of power. I even personallysuffered this!" She held up her wings whose tendons had been cut. "Yetdespite it all, history does not record murder by Venusians. That,Earthian, is your guarantee that we shall keep the peace. As to Luhor,I and I alone can stop him now. This is an offered chance you may takeor leave. Remember, Luhor's fleet has ten times the speed of Earth'sfastest vessel, and will be there sooner than you suppose. Think fast,Earthian!"

"Think also," Mark interposed in a voice of steel, "that here on Vulcanwe have the allotropic metal, the means to work it, and the men tobuild our own cruisers if we so desire!"

"I accept," the Coordinator said sullenly. Despite his fear andhelpless rage, he could only envisage defeat and destruction shouldLuhor arrive at Earth. As for Aladdian on Vulcan stopping the madhalf-breed, he did not see how it was possible; but he had nothingfurther to lose by agreeing. With a gesture, he ordered the Council todraw up a pact.

Four worlds watched the signatures grow one by one. Then, and not untilthen, did Aladdian play her last card as she brought Venus into focus.

"NOW!"

The single word was the last she uttered as she opened her arms. Herpeople were ready. They knew the sacrifice.

Millions of miles away an entire Planet, as if it had been a singlecosmic mind, concentrated on Luhor's fleet. A mighty stream of thoughtflowed out, vast but intangible. Wave upon wave, directed by Aladdian,the accumulated thought-vibrations beat ceaselessly upon the mindsof Luhor and his men. And on Venus, slowly, here and there a wingedfigure fell and lay still, its mind sapped by the prodigious effortthat knew no bounds. But the knowledge that Aladdian, their Princess,who directed the combined flow, was under an infinitely greater mentalstrain than any of them individually, gave them added inspiration.

Aladdian had long since made all the others, even Mark, leave theLaboratory. She maintained her vigil and efforts alone. On her magnumscreen, which had shifted to cosmic space, the six invulnerable vesselscontinued their purposeful route toward Earth. Serenely they sped.

But suddenly, with an odd twist, one of the Spacers plunged headlongwithout warning into a sister ship. Both exploded into a cataract offlame. Another wavered, wheeled, then plunged toward outer space atvertiginous speed, to disappear in a dwindling dot of silver. Of theremaining three, one began to fire broadsides against the others,then rotated over and over out of control, while air-locks opened andfigures leaped out to instantaneous death in the frigidity of space. Itwas a scene of silent horror.

But while scores died in space, hundreds died on Venus at the magnitudeof the effort. Still the Venusian populace of millions concentrated inpurposeful silence.

A sense of madness unleashed stole into the laboratory room whereAladdian stood alone, motionless and white-faced. She scarcelybreathed. Her blue eyes were dilated. On the screen now only onecruiser remained. Not until then did Aladdian move, her hand reachingout automatically to the dials. A second later the interior of Luhor'scruiser lay revealed.

The huge half-breed had held out to the last. He'd realized what washappening, knew that the thought-power of an entire telepathic nationwas reaching out across vast distances of space, the ghastly vibrationof madness battering against the brains of his men. Now even Luhorbegan to succumb, his brutal face contorted by spasms of demoniacevil. His crew of men around him were already insane. A few sobbedmonotonously on their knees, rocking from side to side. Others werealready dead. One crewman was absorbed in daintily flaying another witha bright, keen penknife, while the rest were systematically destroyingthe ship and each other.

In the midst of the scene, Luhor's face went suddenly grey andblank. He drew his electro-pistol and like a man possessed, used itmethodically about him until only he remained alive. It was then thatAladdian used her last remaining strength, directing Luhor like anautomaton to the controls, where he remained frozen. The vessel heeledin space and changed course, heading away from Earth now, speedingdirectly sunward toward Vulcan Base.

Within the laboratory room, Aladdian swayed, her face whiter thandeath; she grasped at the instrument panel for support, but her fingersclosed on air, as she crumpled to the floor.

XIII

She was barely conscious of Mark and Cynthia and Carston seconds later,bursting into the room. And of Mark's face mirroring his anxiety as hehurried to her.

In the same instant she knew that her people's accumulative vibrationhad reached an apex of power, and like an avenging fury was turningtheir way—centering on one person in that laboratory room!Desperately Aladdian tried to stop it, but she was too near exhaustionand too late.

Like a concentrated, cosmic javelin of death, that stream of madnessreached Carston alone. He shrieked but once, and leaped wildly, handsclutching at his temples; then he crumpled to the floor. He had beenblasted to death as suddenly as if a gigantic atom-blast had drilledhim between the eyes.

Not until then, could Aladdian rise wearily to her feet, assisted byMark. Sorrowfully she looked at the figure of Carston. Already onVenus, she knew, thousands lay dead, and perhaps hundreds more had diedin this final vengeful effort.

"They could not forget," she said sadly, "that it was Carston whohounded me throughout the System to result in my imprisonment atParadim; and that it was he who cut the tendons of my wings."

She still clung to Mark's arm, half-supported by him. But despite herutter weariness and all she had gone through, Aladdian still had eyesfor Cynthia, who stood there, a forlorn, shattered figure, staring downat the body of Carston.

"Do not mind too much, my dear." Aladdian's voice and heart went out inpity to the Earth girl. "In a short time you will forget all that hashappened here. Come with us to Venus, I know you will find happinessthere."

"With us?" It was Mark who spoke, his voice a bare whisper of hope.

"Yes, Mark." Aladdian smiled at him, the impish smile he had known inParadim. Then from the recesses of her tunic she drew forth a gleaming,iridescent pearl.

"The purple Josmian!" Mark gasped. "The one I found in the Swamp. I'dforgotten about it!"

"I kept it for you, Mark, knowing I would need it for this moment. Fromlower species to middle order," her smile was impish again, "is not badfor an Earthman. Take the Josmian now, it's yours; with it I elevateyou to the highest order and—"

But she said no more, for within Mark's arms she was deciding he wasn'tmuch taller than the average Venusian; no, not a great deal taller, atall.