Chapter IV

Nathan had never been in the part of the cavern which they were entering. He knew the narrow passage must have been covered by a thin shell of rock in his time.

They came at last into a chamber that was the equal in size of the main one. There was daylight visible and the pink radiance from Firebird began to die. When it was gone she seemed smaller and more fragile than ever. Only the little blue lights in her eyes seemed hard and unyielding.

Within the chamber Nathan stopped and gasped. There was the glistening, silver hull of a space cruiser. And high on the nose of it was the dread name: _Corsair_.

_Corsair_--the famed pirate vessel that had outrun every ship that had ever pursued it. In a hundred acts of piracy, the Firebird had escaped without leaving a trace by means of the _Corsair_.

She watched as he admired the ship. "Like it?"

"So this is the famous _Corsair_," he said, "--and your hideout. You must be sure of your ability to win me as an ally or to kill me."

"I am--sure of both. But I need you more as an ally. Shall we go in?"

The needle-like hull housed a long, spiral catway that led to the cabins and control room. Halfway to the nose Firebird showed Nathan a tiny cabin which he could use.

"You'll find a supply of clothing," she said. "I find it necessary to prepare for occasional guests who forget to bring luggage."

Guests taken from space liners in the midst of interplanetary space, Nathan thought. He wondered what had become of the many that the Firebird had kidnapped that way.

"And now the control room," she said. "I want you to become familiar with the operation of the ship."

All the ships that Nathan had ever known seemed like clumsy scows beside this splendid vessel. Every device known to space navigation and combat was in the equipment. And many instruments he failed to recognize.

"Who designed this ship?"

"My father."

"Father--" Somehow Nathan found himself unable to associate the Firebird with any of the normalcies of life. "Who was your father?"

Her smile was wry. "A man who was little known during his lifetime."

He didn't pursue the subject; they could go into that later. He said, "What I'm interested in is what do we do now?"

"We are going to find the other three Jewels. One of them is in the hands of your father's murderer. We do not need to worry about losing track of that because he will follow us."

"You know who it is?"

"Yes--but you would not believe me."

"Tell me!" He stepped forward, his big hands closing as if upon a throat.

"Our bargain," the girl reminded him. "The Jewels first--I swear we'll not lose him."

"The other Jewels--where are they, then?"

"One of them is buried inaccessibly in a mountain on Mars. The other is in the possession of one of three outlaws, all of whom are on Mars. I have traced it to one of them. So that is where we are going."

"How do you know who has them?"

"That's a long story," said Firebird, "and one that has cost many years of my life. And would have cost more without Thymar's help."

"I'd like to know more of your story about him. He never told me until he died that he had known you."

"It can wait."

Satisfied that the controls were in order, the girl turned her attention to the engines.

"There's trouble in the port motor," she said. "It can't be repaired with the facilities available to us here. We'll have to take a chance using it."

Nathan was about to protest, then changed his mind. He and his father had gone into space so often with decrepit and half worn equipment that it should have made no difference, but this vessel was so sleek and perfect that danger seemed to lurk in any minor imperfection.

Nathan strapped himself into the inertia-controlling chair next to Firebird. He studied the duplicate controls in front of him but kept his hands off.

Firebird started the warming coils to preheat the tubes. After a moment she adjusted the ignition controls and twisted the fuel valve.

Nathan felt as if he had been slapped suddenly with a giant pillow that pressed him flat in the chair. The acceleration of the _Corsair_ was greater than any he had experienced before, and his father's old ship had never been equipped with inertia chairs.

He caught no glimpse of the edge of the cavern's maw as the ship passed upward through it. One instant they were in the cave, the next they were in the sky and only seconds passed until they were soaring above the thick cloud layer of Venus.

After five minutes of such intense acceleration, the Firebird relaxed and cut the controls to a point where they could breathe more easily.

"Why the hurry?" Nathan gasped. "Nobody is chasing us!"

Firebird made no answer. She reached towards the small panel at the lower edge of the control board and switched on the viewing plate. Silently, she scanned the heavens behind them and the surface of the planet they were leaving. The focus of the plate extended and retreated, then suddenly it concentrated upon a blunt-nosed black vessel rising somewhere below them.

"The Black Warrior," said Firebird. "He was watching for us to leave."

* * * * *

Nathan watched the black ship for hours while Firebird guided the _Corsair_. Steadily the strange vessel gained on them.

"We could outrun him easily," said Firebird, "if it weren't for that bad motor. Do you know how to handle light cruiser lances?"

"My father never carried a gun on his ship in his life."

"I remember," said Firebird. "How I used to argue with him. He said he wouldn't risk being caught by the police in an armed vessel, so he never came aboard the _Corsair_."

"Perhaps a wiser man than his son," said Nathan.

He told himself he wanted no part of this. He was an engineer, not a buccaneer. Yet as the black vessel approached he felt the thrill of its challenge. The challenge of combat in the impersonal depths of space.

His father had felt that challenge--the challenge of men and of space itself, and he had met it with his own bare hands. It was impossible for Nathan not to feel it.

They kept their steady pace at an acceleration something more than fifteen G's. Firebird gave Nathan brief instructions in the operation of the weapons and controls.

A viewing screen provided Nathan with sights. Its scale automatically corrected for the relative motions of the two vessels.

Abruptly, and without warning, the Black Warrior fired. The _Corsair's_ defensive screens caught the blast with an absorption of energy that made the dissipators whine and grow incandescent.

"He's using high powered stuff," said Nathan. "Those screens can't take much of that."

"They weren't meant to. The _Corsair's_ main defense is her speed. There wasn't room for heavy screens. This time our defense has to be better shooting. Watch this."

As she spoke, she caught the enemy ship dead in the sights and depressed the firing button. A cloud of bright vapor seemed to envelope the black hull. Then all was as before.

"He's got our screens beat," said Nathan. "We'll never get through them."

Firebird smiled. "That's the first time that's been said in the _Corsair_. I hope your pessimism doesn't jinx us."

The black ship was swinging back, maneuvering closer.

"Hang on!" Firebird exclaimed. She flung the _Corsair_ into a tight turn and held it.

Simultaneously, she fired the four big lances in the stern and left a trail of flame balls that made it impossible for the enemy to follow in their wake. Then, forcing the ship into a close spiral, she nosed towards the black ship and fired the four forward lances together.

Nathan watched, his hands clenched to knuckle whiteness on the control panel, as the four flames combined and enveloped the enemy. This time the Black Warrior's screens flamed lividly. The big ship heeled crazily away, twisting under the forces unleashed upon it.

But the black ship was vicious in its death agonies. Nathan saw its beams lash out and yelled to Firebird, "Don't cross his stern!"

Firebird saw her mistake. Both of them twisted at the dual controls to swing the _Corsair_ away from that cone of destruction into which it was plunging.

It was too late. They swept across the stern of the Black Warrior which was blasting with all it had. The _Corsair's_ screen lit momentarily. Then the dissipators exploded in a crushing blast in the depths of the ship.

The interior of the control room came alive with flame. Firebird flung her hands before her face and her silver helmet was encased in a halo of fire.

What protected him, Nathan never knew, but he seemed to be just outside the sphere of burning destruction that burst through the walls of the control room in a hundred million pin pricks of flame. For an eternity he seemed frozen there watching the flame creeping over the slim form of Firebird--watching it burn and smother her.

Automatic cells closed the innumerable pin pricks made in the hull by the entering ions of fire. The control panel was blackened and burned. Then the flame-points faded out.

His hypnosis induced by the flame could not have lasted more than a fraction of a second, Nathan knew. But when he leaped out of the chair towards Firebird, he shuddered.

The bronze and pink of her flesh was burned to blackness.

* * * * *

It was impossible, he told himself numbly. This couldn't be the end of the storied Firebird. But it was. That charred corpse could never hold life again.

A poignant pain of sorrow filled him as he looked upon the figure and remembered the beauty of Firebird. He felt lost, and all the supreme purpose in their flight to Mars had ceased.

His mind drifted back to the scene in the cave when he had witnessed his father's death. He recalled the words his father had spoken--"You'll never rest until you have found all Seven of the Jewels--or death."

That's the way it had been with Thymar Ormondy. That's the way it had been with Firebird. All they had found was death.

Then, with a shock of horror, Nathan realized that was the way it would be with him, too. His father's words were true. He would never rest until he had found the secret of those evil Jewels or suffered the same fate that had befallen all the other spacemen who'd given their lives in that vain search.

But he'd find those Jewels, he knew. And someday he'd know the secret of the beautiful, the fantastic Firebird.

He wondered if his father's murder had been avenged with the death of Firebird. And he knew that he would never be sure as long as he lived.

Nathan cut the acceleration of the ship, and then bent over to unfasten the straps that held her in the inertia chair. Tenderly he picked up the light body that had held the strong will of Firebird.

He took a step towards the passage leading to the airlocks. And then he stopped in horror. The blackened lips of Firebird moved.

There was no sound. Only the ghostly movement of those lips to show that Firebird lived.

This was worse than death, Nathan thought. But she could not live long. He carried her to her own stateroom and laid her on the bed. He bent down and heard the faint beating of her heart.

From a cabinet he obtained salves and drugs to ease the pain when and if she regained consciousness. Even as he finished she began to stir.

She moved as if in tremendous pain, and facial expression was impossible for her. Her lips moved again. But there was no sound.

If she should live, he knew he ought to head for Earth where the only adequate medical facilities were. But it was a long journey to the other side of the sun this time of year. The defunct motor would make it even longer. It seemed impossible that she could survive the trip.

The lips of Firebird were still moving, and now Nathan caught the trace of a word. He bent closer. She repeated the same sound over and over again.

"Luline--Luline--" was the word she breathed.

It made no sense to him. He wondered if the name were that of some unknown relative--or if she were merely delirious.

"Luline--Luline--take me to Luline--"

He spoke gently into her ear. "Who is Luline?"

She struggled mightily within herself against the pain waves attacking her. She gasped, "Chart C-R-46. Luline."

Nathan raced to the chart room. There it was. On Chart C-R-46, circled in red, was the word "Luline" beside a tiny asteroid.

This was more incomprehensible than ever. Or was the asteroid a burial place for her mysterious clan?

He debated heading for Earth. And then another question arose as he thought of her burned and tortured body. Even if she could live would she want to? On Earth her existence would be in the double prison of iron bars and her own damaged body.

He set the course for the asteroid, Luline.