Chapter V

Outside again, Ric flashed a warning look at Tal Horan and said tentatively to Kueelo:

"As a spaceman and engineer, all of this interests me! Just what is the nature of these spores? How did you manage to get them across to Mars? And"--he looked about the empty streets--"where are the Phobians?"

"You shall learn these things in due time. And, if you are entertaining thoughts of escaping from here," Kueelo said with calm assurance, "you may as well forget it. You will work, Earthman; you will work very hard, in order to stay alive. You'll soon learn why! Later ... you may be of even more use to us."

They entered the car again and soon were speeding away from the city. The shimmering blue surface light began to fade away. They entered a twilight place where the walls were of dull gray stone.

"Where are you taking us now?" Praana asked.

"You shall see! I feel it is best that you understand fully what we have accomplished here, and it is only the beginning. Our plans are far-reaching!"

Far-reaching. Ric thought he knew what that meant, but he remained silent and watchful. A few miles further they entered a region of pallid, purplish vegetation. There were vast patches of it, acres wide, growing from the surface. And they saw the Phobians. Hundreds of these frail, pallid people were working listlessly into the growth, harvesting it, placing it in small fibroid carts to be hauled away.

"You asked about the nature of the spores," Kueelo said to Ric. "Touch it, then. I want you to see for yourself."

Ric examined it curiously. It grew in thick masses close to the stone, almost lichen-like. It was the strangest stuff he had ever seen. It seemed literally to crawl! Carefully he reached out a hand. A faint tingling, almost radioactive, went through his skin.

"Touch it with metal," Kueelo said.

Ric searched his pockets, found a small silver coin. Gingerly he extended it. When the metal was yet a few inches from the fungoid growth, it seemed to be snatched from his fingers! The growth reached swiftly upward at it, and the metal dissolved away. For a three foot radius the growth turned from the pallid purple to blood red ... seemed trying to tear itself from the stone. Ric could even feel a faint heat from it.

So this was Gorak's weapon! This was the stuff he had launched, somehow, upon Mars. It was diabolic ... and Ric could understand, now, how Mars had been devastated in a matter of weeks! Questions were pounding in his brain; but before he could speak, Kueelo was saying with supreme confidence:

"You wonder how we control it. We have only partially done that, by use of the new allotropic metal from Mercury. Under special processing in our atomic furnaces we have been able to strengthen the atomic structure of the Mercury metal, at least to the point where it will counter-act the spores temporarily. With that accomplished, it was a simple matter to propel them on robot-control across the short space to Mars."

"And upon landing there," Tal Horan's voice came fraught with hate, "the spores broke down the metal and were free to spread on Mars! It's diabolic!"

"Let us say, clever," Kueelo continued coldly. "And with the formula you have provided, I believe we can strengthen the atomic structure still more. We can increase our range. We shall have a weapon indeed!"

He dismissed the subject abruptly and turned to Ric. "Tal Horan will assist me tomorrow at the laboratories. _Your_ work will be here. You are new, and can do the work of a hundred of these Phobians."

There was secret meaning, secret amusement in the words. Ric looked again at the Phobians moving slowly, automaton-like, listless and dull-eyed. He felt an awful foreboding as he wondered how long before he became like these shells of men....

* * * * *

They returned to the city where Kueelo assigned them to their quarters. They didn't lack for comfort, but Phobian guards, obviously not of the worker class, patrolled the corridors ceaselessly.

"Their plan is obvious!" Ric said when they were alone. "Earth is to be next, unless it capitulates to their demands. And lord knows what those will be!"

"Yes." Praana was thoughtful. "I think Kueelo would have bargained with Mars, but Gorak wanted his revenge, the wholesale destruction of our people. And he probably figures it will be a good object lesson to Earth."

"They couldn't have picked a better time, with Earth divided on the question of the Mars refugees, and Wessell using the Fleet for his own political ambitions! Tal ... you'll be working with Kueelo tomorrow. Pretend to co-operate, but slow them down if you can! Learn what their plans are. Find out how much time we have!"

Tal nodded. "We'll all have to keep our eyes and ears open. Our only chance is to get back to that spaceship."

"How? Even if we got past the guards, we could never find our way back to that air-lock." Ric laughed bitterly. "Direction is meaningless in this crazy world!"

Then he was strangely silent, as his mind struggled on the threshold of an idea. There was something Kueelo had said, in his boastful mood, something Ric should have remembered. Something....

But Ric couldn't recall it now. Events had happened too swiftly. The more he tried to grasp the idea the more it eluded him. At last his weary mind gave it up, and he sank into a sleep of exhaustion.

He was awakened roughly and looked up to see Kueelo. Tal and Praana were already up, and some Phobian servants were bringing breakfast in to them.

"You won't find existence here too hard," Kueelo told them, "so long as you do as you're told. Eat your breakfast, then you, Tal Horan, will accompany me, and you, Ric Martin, will go with Naric to the spore-fields. As for Praana ... Gorak wishes to confer further with her."

Tal Horan glanced at her anxiously, but Praana whispered, "It's all right, Tal, I can take care of myself; and I may be able to help!"

Ric accompanied Naric, and they reached the spore-fields where groups of Phobians were already beginning the day's work. Ric was given a leather hood that came over his head and around his neck, and soft leather gloves.

He went to work slowly, methodically, following the example of the others. The roots of the growth, he found, were embedded deep. It clung tenaciously. And soon, even through his clothes, through the protecting gear, he could feel faint radiations at work on his skin.

Before an hour had passed, it began to take its toll of him. Sweat was in his eyes, but he did not mind that. Much worse, something seemed to be happening to his metabolism. His blood moved sluggishly in his veins, as a terrible impassivity gripped him. Almost it was as though essential salts within his body were being dissolved, to slow up cellular activity! Ric paused to stare around at the phosphorescent glow that clung about the place like a ghastly pall.

* * * * *

A group of Phobians moved toward him, pushing one of the half-filled carts. Ric watched them dully, feeling only a desire to give up, to sink down into the lichen growth that came about his ankles. To move, even to think, was an effort. Then one of the Phobians came toward him.

"You are new," the man said without emotion. "To stand still is fatal. You must keep working, keep moving, if you want to last long."

"Thanks." With an effort Ric roused himself from his lethargy, and joined the group. He worked fast now. It was tiring work, and the sweat still poured from him, but he felt his brain gradually clearing, and the blood didn't pound so heavily at his temples. He knew well what Kueelo had meant when he said, "You will work very hard, Earthman ... in order to stay alive."

"My name is Yarnith," said the Phobian who had first spoken, as he moved and worked beside Ric.

Ric didn't see what that mattered, and he made no reply.

"You are Earthian," the man went on. "I don't know how you came here, but you are strong, stronger than four of us. Stay with our group, Earthman!"

Ric looked at him, then, and at the others in the group. There were perhaps a dozen. They were frail and pallid, but somehow their eyes were not so vacant, there was not the gray look of death upon their faces.

"You've not been here so long as the others!" Ric ventured.

Yarnith's face twisted bitterly. "No. Once we worked in the city, at the laboratories, carrying on Gorak's great work. He has promised us much ... expansion, and the respect of other worlds and the glory that once was ours. But I've seen our people sent here to the spore-fields in increasing numbers! It's a living death!"

Ric saw the others nod in agreement, as they listened to Yarnith. "How much longer will it be?" one of them grumbled. "I for one do not intend to stay here and become as these others!" He indicated the hundreds of Phobians moving listlessly about their work.

Ric's heart leaped. "You mean ... you're planning an escape?"

But immediately he saw he was wrong. Yarnith looked at him in puzzlement. "Escape ... how can that be? This is our world, and where could we go?"

Ric knew, then, that these people knew little of Gorak's plans. They were probably unaware of the secret air-lock leading from their hollow world! Not for three generations had a Phobian set foot on the barren outer surface. Gorak was using them as pawns in his insatiable plan.

Again Ric looked about him. Their cart was half-filled now, and they were moving toward a group of rough stone buildings that apparently served as barracks. Yarnith whispered, "Be alert, Earthman!"

Ric was puzzled, but stayed with them. They rounded a corner of one of the buildings, out of sight of the other workers. Then Yarnith acted quickly. He burrowed deep into the cart, came up with a small leather pouch; then as the other Phobians gathered 'round, he portioned out the contents.

Ric thought he recognized the brownish stuff. The dread _eishn_ stems, a powerful narcotic. He'd encountered it once on Venus.

"It helps," Yarnith explained. "It combats the fatigue, builds up a cellular resistance and re-activates the blood stream. But we don't have much of it here, and--"

One of the men gave a warning cry. Ric whirled, saw another group of Phobians appear around the corner of the building. Their dull eyes took on a glint as they saw the _eishn_ stems. Some of the newcomers carried crude knives. Then they were rushing forward, and Ric found himself battling beside Yarnith and the others, battling for his life.

He lashed out as two of the Phobians converged upon him. His fist caught one of them, the man's face lost contour and his frail body sailed backward. The other went down from a blow to the body. Then a dozen of them were upon him, hands tearing at his arms and throat, and Ric felt himself going down. He fought back, using fists and knees now. The dread lethargy of this place was gone from him. He was feeling the first joy of battle against odds.

Soon he was clear, using his Earth strength to advantage. He rolled aside as a knife flashed toward him, grazing his cheek. He gained his feet. Yarnith and the others were fighting against overwhelming odds. He saw Yarnith seize a fallen knife, and two Phobians went down with blood gushing from their throats.

The very silence lent an unreality. Ric was everywhere now, unleashing sledgehammer fists that cut a path through the attackers. He evaded the slashing knives, seized one of the Phobians and hurled him bodily.

Yarnith fought on by Ric's side, exulting, using the knife. The attacking group was falling back now. Panic seized them as they witnessed the Earthman's strength. Soon they were fleeing, leaving a half-dozen of their dead and dying on the ground.

Ric towered there, still feeling the fierce surge of blood that was a tonic to him. He heard Yarnith's exultant voice.

"That was a battle, Earthman! I'm glad you were with us. They'll kill to get a few of these _eishn_ stems." It seemed not to matter to Yarnith that these were his own people. He extended the pouch, but Ric waved it away. Yarnith seemed puzzled, then shrugged, as the group went back to their work.

Disgust flooded Ric like a cold wave from the sea. These people were lost, struggling against a hopeless existence. They were little more than beasts, and the addiction to the _eishn_ stems only hastened the inevitable. He could not even feel pity--and certainly he could expect no help from them.

* * * * *

He returned to their quarters in the city, weary of body and mind. It was hours before the dread effect of the spores left him--but Ric was determined not to resort to the _eishn_ stems. Praana and Tal Horan had returned, and they compared notes for the day.

"They've gone far," Tal said grimly, "much farther than I ever dreamed! They have an improved type of atomic furnace. They process and shape the new metal into bomb-casings for the spores; but they're using it for new rocket-tubes as well! According to Kueelo, it will give them tubes that are absolutely blast proof and triples efficiency in relation to fuel consumption. Already they've equipped two new spacers, and will have more of them ready in the event that Earth refuses the Phobian ultimatum."

Ric listened wearily, his mind trying to seize the problem. "What will the ultimatum be?"

"I learned that today," Praana said. "Gorak will demand full recognition of Phobos as a member of the Inner Planet Federation, with himself as supreme ruler of Mars once he reclaims it from the red plague."

"Earth Council will never agree!"

"I learned even more," Praana went on. "Dar Mihelson managed to reach Luna safely with all units! They are safe for the time being, deep within Tycho. And Ric ... the balance of Earth's fleet has sided with your Earth Council, and against Wessell. Already a showdown battle is in the making!"

Ric groaned. "Just what Gorak wanted! It will give him the time he needs. Tal, how far have they gone?"

"Unfortunately, Kueelo's already deciphered our formula and it gives them the missing equation! You see, Bedril and I were working on a principle which meant stripping the outer sheathe of electrons from the new metal, without disrupting the atom itself--and the power generated would serve to counter-act the spores. Here, in their new type of atomic furnace, they have the necessary heat and pressure to do that."

"What will it mean, then?" Ric's brows furrowed.

"Simply that, in a manner of speaking, they'll be able to control the spore action, and they'll soon be able to launch the spore-bombs all the way to Earth!"

Ric arose and paced the room angrily. He stepped to the outer door and peered along the corridor, but a group of guards hurried toward him with electros held in readiness. They had been instructed well. Ric turned and continued to pace the room.

"It will be at least a few days before they're ready," Tal said. "There's little I can do to slow them down, Ric--but my chance may come!"

Ric paused. Already an idea was growing apace within him. It was a desperate idea but they had to try something--anything! He said, "I think somewhere in this city there's a supply of _eishn_ stems. I saw some of the workers using it today--maybe it's smuggled out to them occasionally. I want to get hold of some! All I can get! Praana, suppose you work on that. If you can, find out where the stuff's kept!"