United States or Senegal ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Johnny dictated the message of his location which we received. In his incautious excitement he ignored the secret code. An interval passed. No message had come from us just Snap's routine signal in the weak infra-red, which we hoped Grantline would not get. The men crowding Grantline's instrument room waited in tense silence. Then Grantline tried the television again.
But they had normalized at once when the shot was past. The duty man's voice sounded from the grid in answer to Grantline's question: "Five degrees colder in your building. Can't you feel it?" The disturbed, weakened Erentz system had allowed the outer cold to radiate through a trifle. The walls had had a trifle extra explosive pressure from the air. A strain but that was all.
How skilled at mathematics were these brigands? Miko, Coniston, Hahn could I fool them? If I could learn Grantline's location on the Moon, and keep the Planetara away from it. A pretended error of charting. Time lost and perhaps Snap could find an opportunity to signal Earth, get help. Miko answered my question as bluntly as I asked it. "I don't know where Grantline is located.
It was obvious that at least two of our passengers were plotting with Miko and George Prince; trying on this voyage to learn what they could about Grantline's activities on the Moon scheming doubtless to seize the treasure when the Planetara stopped at the Moon on the return voyage. I thought I could name those masquerading passengers. Ob Hahn, supposedly a Venus mystic.
"Let's watch from here a moment," I whispered. She nodded, standing with her hand on my arm. I felt that we were very small, here in the midst of these seven foot Martian men. I was all in white, the costume used in the warm interior of Grantline's camp. Bareheaded, white silk Planetara uniform jacket, broad belt and tight-laced trousers.
Then it was extinguished. The goggled, bloated figure came leaping down after a moment. Grantline's exterior watchman making his rounds. He came back to the main building. Fastened the weights on his shoes. Signaled. The lock opened. The figure went inside. It was early evening. After the dinner hour and before the time of sleep according to the camp routine Grantline was maintaining.
Creeping or would he make a swift, unexpected rush? The feeling that he was upon us abruptly swept me. I jumped to my feet, against Anita's effort to hold me. Where was he now? Was my imagination playing me tricks?... I sank back. "That ship should be here in a few hours." I told her what Grantline's signal had suggested; the ship was hovering overhead.
Apparatus was being brought up from below to be assembled. There was a pile of Erentz suits and helmets, of Martian pattern, but still very similar to those with which Grantline's expedition was equipped. There were giant projectors of several kinds, some familiar to me, others of a fashion I had never seen before.
I told him what Snap and I had learned: the rays from the Moon, proving that Grantline had concentrated a considerable ore body. I also told him of Grantline's message. "We'll stop on the way back, as he directs, Gregg." He bent closer to me. "At Ferrok-Shahn I'm going to bring back a cordon of Interplanetary Police. The secret will be out, of course, when we stop at the Moon.
This, her last resting place. She lay here, in her open tomb, shattered, broken, unbreathing. The lights on her were extinguished. The Erentz system had ceased to pulse the heart of the dying ship, for a while beating faintly, but now at rest. We left the two girls with some of Grantline's men at the admission port. Snap, Grantline and I, with three others, went inside.
Word Of The Day