Chapter VII
There was silence for a moment. Then footsteps came crunching over the rocks towards the ghoul-burrow, and Channok got set. But the footsteps halted a few yards away.
"That's the one I was sitting on," Peer volunteered. "Nice, easy one to climb!"
"Yeah, I never saw a nicer looking rock," Nasal-voice said sourly. "We've got to climb it, too! I'm not trying any point-landings with jets. Get on up there then, before I boot you up!"
There were sounds of scrambling.
"Don't you move now!" Peer said suddenly.
"What are you talking about?" demanded Nasal-voice.
"Durn rock come loose!" muttered Peer. "Near flung me off!"
But Channok, meanwhile, had got the idea and settled back. It was not yet the Right Moment....
There were more scrambling sounds and some breathless swearing from Ezeff, who obviously had not spent his formative years in asteroid-hopping either. But at last all become quiet.
"And here we are!" Peer's voice floated down clearly. A small chunk of rock dropped right in front of the burrow's entrance, like a punctuation mark.
"Sit still, blast you!" said Nasal-voice, badly out of breath.
A large, dim shadow swept silently over the ground before the ghoul's burrow just then. That would be the launch, going towards the Mound. A prolonged silence overhead confirmed the impression.
"They want to give Flauval a surprise?" Peer inquired meekly at last.
Rather startlingly, Nasal-voice laughed.
"They sure do!" he agreed. "That's a good one! Yes, sir, they sure do!"
"Flauval's nice, don't you think?" continued Peer conversationally, picking up courage.
"Depends a lot on how you look at it," Nasal-voice said dreamily. "She's a real pretty thing anyhow, that Flauval! Luck of the devil she's had, too. But it's got to run out sometime."
There was another silence. Then Peer remarked:
"Boy, he set that launch down nice! Right quick spang on top of the--what the big guy said it was. On the Mound."
"We've got a good pilot," Nasal-voice agreed. "Flauval's going to get her surprise in just a minute now!"
"And there they come out of the launch," continued Peer. "One, two, three, four. All four of them. Marching right down into the Mound!"
"You've got sharp eyes," Nasal-voice acknowledged. "But that's funny!" he continued worriedly. "One of them was to stay with the guns."
"And now look at the launch!" cried Peer in a high, bright voice. "Getting _pulled_ right into the Mound!"
Nasal-voice was making loud, choking sounds.
"What _was_ that?" he screamed then. "What's happened? What's that over there?"
"Let go my arm!" cried Peer. "Don't pull it--you're pushing me off! _Here we go!_"
* * * * *
A small avalanche of weathered rock came down before the burrow's mouth as Channok shot out through it into the open. He looked up. In what looked like an inextricable tangle of arms and legs, Peer and Nasal-voice were sliding and scuffling down the steep side of the rock together. Nasal-voice was trying to hang on to the rock, but Peer was hanging on to him and jerking like a hooked fish whenever he got a momentary hold.
She looked down and saw Channok, put her boots into the small of Nasal-voice's back, pushed off and landed two yards from Channok on hands and feet. He flattened himself back against the boulder, while Nasal-voice skidded down the rest of the way unaided, wisely refraining from triggering his jets. In the position he was in, they simply would have accelerated his descent to a fatal degree.
He arrived more or less on his feet. Peer bounced up and down before him, her finger pointed, like a small lunatic.
"Surprise!" she screamed. "Surprise! Like Flauval got! When you locked her in her cabin and ran off with the launch, so she'd have to jump out into space!"
"That's right, kid," Nasal-voice panted softly, fumbling for his gun without taking his eyes off her. He looked somewhat like a white-faced lunatic himself just then. "Don't get scared, kid! Don't run off! I won't shoot."
He pulled the gun out suddenly.
But Channok had taken two soft steps forward by then, and he had only to swing. The Reaper was clubbed in his right hand, and he brought the butt end down on the top of Nasal-voice Ezeff's skull-tight flying cap as if he were trying to ram a stake through the surface rock of Old Nameless.
* * * * *
"What happened over there on the Mound?" he inquired in a voice that kept wanting to quaver. He was hurriedly pulling on Nasal-voice's flight suit.
"Here's his goggles," said Peer, also shakily. "Tell you tonight about the Mound. But Santis was right!"
"That's what it sounded like," Channok admitted. He slipped on the goggles. "Do I look like this Ezeff now?"
"Not very much," Peer said doubtfully. "You still got that nose and that jaw. Better hold me close up to your face! I'll put on a good act."
"All right. As soon as I set you down in the lock, jump past the guard and yell, or something. If he looks after you, we mightn't have to kill this one." He held out his arms. "Hop up! We'd better get started before those last two on the _Ra-Twelve_ decide to come over."
Peer hopped up. Channok wrapped his right arm carefully around her. They looked at each other thoughtfully for a moment.
"All set?" he asked.
"Sure," said crew-member Peer. She smiled faintly.
He triggered the jets with his left hand, and they shot upwards. Peer drew a deep breath.
"Quit bossing me around all the time, you big lug!" she yelled suddenly. She reached up for that nose and gave it a good yank.
"All right," Channok muttered, startled. "You don't have to be so realistic! He can't even see us yet!"
"Just because you're bigger'n me!" shrieked Peer as they soared over the top of the rocks into view of the _Asteroid's_ lock. She hooked a smart right to Channok's left ear.
"Cut that out now, Peer!" he ordered futilely.
He was lightly battered all around by the time they reached the _Asteroid's_ lock, though the act did get them in safely. But then--whether it was the nose or the jaw--the instant he dropped Peer to her feet, the guard stopped laughing and brought a gun out and up faster than Channok ever had seen a man produce one before. However, the Reaper had been ready in his hand all the time; so, with a safe fraction of a second to spare, it talked first--
The glare of the discharge seemed about fifty times brighter than normal.
"Hit the floor, Channy!" he heard Peer's shout.
He hit it without thought, dropping over the dead guard's legs....
Sound rammed at him enormously, roared on and began banging itself about and away among distant mountains. The _Asteroid's_ floor had surged up ponderously, settled back, quivered a bit and become stable again.
"An earthquake," Channok muttered, sitting up dazedly, "was exactly all we needed right now!"
"That wasn't any earthquake!" said Peer, standing pale-faced above him. "Get up and look!"
* * * * *
Long veils of stuff, presumably solid chunks of mountain, were drifting down the distant, towering face of the cliff at the foot of which they had buried the _Ra-Twelve_. Rising to meet them, its source concealed beyond the horizon of the plain, was the slow, grey cloud of some super-explosion.
"I guess," he said slowly, "one of those two must have got curious about Koyle's wall-safe!"
"We were pretty smart about that," nodded Peer.
"We were, for once!" Channok agreed. He was looking around for something to sit down on quietly when he caught sight of the dead guard again. He started violently.
"Almost forgot about him! I guess now I'll have to bury him, and that Ezeff, the first thing. Maybe this one is carrying something that will show who they were."
He found something almost instantly--and he was glad then that Peer was still watching the oily writhings of the cloud across the plain. It was in a flat steel case he took out of one of the dead man's pockets: the identification disk of a member of the Imperial Secret Service--
_The_ Service!
And they would have murdered us, he thought, shocked. They were going to do it!
He turned the guard over on his back. A big muscular young man with a look of sudden purpose and confidence still fixed on his face. It was the same face as the one on the disk.
Channok put the disk back in its case and shoved the case into the dead man's pocket. He stood up, feeling rather sick. Peer turned around from the lock and regarded him reflectively for a moment.
"You know, Channy," she stated carefully, "if you can't help it, it doesn't count."
He looked back at her. "I guess not," he said--and suddenly, for a moment, he could see four men marching one after the other down into the Mound. "Of course, it doesn't count!" he told her firmly.
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Captives of the Thieve-StarChapter VII
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