suddenly the pressure was gone.
They were still falling.
The drive groaned in the stern of the ship and relays chattered. Butit didn't start again. The two men stared at each other, unmoving, forthe unmeasurable unit of time that the ship fell.
As the ship dropped it turned and hit at an angle. The end came forJason in an engulfing wave of thunder, shock and pain. Sudden impactpushed him against the restraining straps, burst them with the inertiaof his body, hurled him across the control room. His last consciousthought was to protect his head. He was lifting his arm when he struckthe wall.
* * * * *
There is a cold that is so chilling it is a pain not a temperature.Cold that slices into the flesh before it numbs and kills.
Jason came to with the sound of his own voice crying hoarsely. Thecold was so great it filled the universe. Cold water he realized as hecoughed it from his mouth and nose. Something was around him and ittook an effort to recognize it as Mikah's arm; he was holding Jason'sface above the surface while he swam. A receding blackness in thewater could only have been the ship, giving off bubbles and groans asit died. The cold water didn't hurt now and Jason was just relaxingwhen he felt something solid under his feet.
"Stand up and walk, curse you," Mikah gasped hoarsely. "I can't ...carry you ... can't carry myself...."
They floundered out of the water, side by side, four-legged crawlingbeasts that could not stand erect. Everything had an unreality to itand Jason found it hard to think. He should not stop, that he was sureof, but what else could he do? There was a flickering in the darkness,a wavering light coming towards them. Jason could say nothing, but heheard Mikah cry out for help.
Nearer came the light, some kind of a flare or torch, held high. Mikahpulled to his feet as the flame approached.
It was a nightmare. It wasn't a man but a thing that held the flare. Athing of angles, sharp corners, fang-faced and horrible. It had aclubbed extremity it used to strike down Mikah. The tall man fellwordlessly and the creature turned towards Jason. He had no strengthto fight with, though he struggled to climb to his feet. His fingersscratched at the frosted sand, but he could not rise, and exhaustedwith this last effort he fell forward face down. Unconsciousnesspulled at his brain but he would not submit. The flickering torchlightcame closer and the scuffle of heavy feet in the sand; he could nothave this horror behind him. With the last of his strength he leveredhimself over and lay on his back, staring up at the thing that stoodover him, with the darkness of exhaustion filming his eyes.
IV
It did not kill him at once, but stood staring down at him, and asthe slow seconds ticked by and Jason was still alive he forced himselfto consider this menace that appeared from the blackness.
"_K'e vi stas el...?_" the creature said, and for the first time Jasonrealized it was human. The meaning of the question picked at the edgeof his exhausted brain, he felt he could almost understand it, thoughhe had never heard the language before. He tried to answer but therewas only a hoarse gargle from his throat.
"_Ven k'n torcoy--r'pidu!_"
More lights sprang from the darkness inland and with them the sound ofrunning feet. As they came closer Jason had a clearer look at the manabove him and could understand why he had mistaken him for someinhuman creature. His limbs were completely wrapped in lengths ofstained leather, his chest and body protected by thick and overlappingleather plates covered with blood-red designs. Over his head wasfitted the cochlea shaped shell of some animal, spiraling to a pointin front: two small openings had been drilled in it for eye holes.Great, finger-long teeth had been set in the lower edge of the shellto heighten the already fearsome appearance. The only thing at allhuman about the creature was the matted and filthy beard that trickledout of the shell below the teeth. There were too many other detailsfor Jason to absorb so suddenly; something bulky slung behind oneshoulder, dark objects at the waist, a heavy club reached and proddedJason in the ribs, but he was too close to unconsciousness to resist.
A guttural command halted the torch-bearers a full five meters fromthe spot where Jason lay. He wondered vaguely why the armored man hadnot let them approach closer since the light from their torches barelyreached this far: everything on this planet seemed inexplicable. For afew moments Jason must have lost consciousness because when he lookedagain the torch was stuck in the sand at his side and the armored manhad one of Jason's boots off and was pulling at the other. Jason couldonly writhe feebly but not prevent the theft, for some reason he couldnot force his body to follow his will. His sense of time seemed tohave altered as well and though every second dragged heavily by eventsoccurred with startling rapidity.
The boots were gone now and the man fumbled at Jason's clothes,stopping every few seconds to glance up at the row of torch-bearers.The magnetic seals were alien to him, the sharp teeth sewn into theleather over his knuckles dug into Jason's flesh as he struggled toopen the seals or to tear the resistant metalcloth. He was growlingwith impatience when he accidentally touched the release button on themedikit and it dropped into his hand. The shining gadget seemed toplease him, but when one of the sharp needles slipped through histhick hand-coverings and stabbed him he howled with rage, throwing themachine down, and grinding it into a splintered ruin in the sand. Theloss of this irreplaceable device goaded Jason into motion, he sat upand was trying to reach the medikit when unconsciousness surged overhim.
* * * * *
Sometime before dawn the pain in his head drove him reluctantly backto awareness. There were some foul-smelling hides draped over him thatretained a little of his body heat. He pulled away the stifling foldthat covered his face and stared up at the stars, cold points of lightthat glittered in the frigid night. The air was a stimulant and hesucked deep gasps of it that burned his throat but seemed to clear histhoughts. For the first time he realized that his disorientation hadbeen caused by that crack on the head he had received when the shipcrashed; his exploring fingers found a swollen rawness on his skull.He must have a brain concussion, that would explain his earlierinability to move or think straight. The cold air was numbing his faceand he willingly pulled the hairy skin back over his head.
He wondered what had happened to Mikah Samon after the local thug inthe horror outfit had bashed him with the club. This was a messy andunexpected end for the man after he had managed to survive the crashof the ship. Jason had no special affection for the under-nourishedzealot, but he did owe him a life. Mikah had saved him after thecrash, only to be murdered himself by this local assassin. Jason madea mental note to kill the man just as soon as he was physically up toit, at the same time he was a little astonished at his reflexiveacceptance of the need for this blood-thirsty atonement of a life fora life. Apparently his long stay on Pyrrus had trodden down his normaldislike for killing except in self-defense and from what he had seenso far of this world the Pyrran training would certainly be mostuseful. The sky showed gray through a tear in the hide and he pushedit back to look at the dawn.
Mikah Samon lay next to him his head projecting from a covering fur.He hair was matted and caked with dark blood, but he was stillbreathing.
"Harder to kill than I thought," Jason grunted as he levered himselfpainfully up onto one elbow and took a good look at this world wherehis spaceship sabotage had landed them.
It was a grim desert, lumped with huddled bodies like the aftermath ofa battle at world's-end. A few of them were stumbling to their feet,holding their skins around them, the only signs of life in thatimmense waste of gritty sand. On one side a ridge of dunes cut offsight of the sea, but he could hear the dull boom of waves on theshore. White frost rimed the ground and the chill wind made his eyesblink and water. On the top of the dunes a remembered figure suddenlyappeared, the armored man, doing something with what appeared to belengths of rope; there was metallic tinkling, suddenly cut off. MikahSamon groaned and stirred.
"How do you feel," Jason asked. "Those are two of the finestblood-shot eye
balls I have ever seen."
"Where am I?"
"Now that is a bright and original question--I didn't pick you for thetype who watched historical spaceopera on the TV. I have no idea wherewe are--but I can give you a brief synopsis of how we arrived here, ifyou are up to it."
"I remember we swam ashore, then something evil came from thedarkness, like a demon from hell. We fought...."
"And he bashed in your head, one quick blow and that was about all thefight there was. I had a better look at your demon, though I was in nobetter condition to fight him than you were. He's a man dressed in aweird outfit out of an addict's nightmare and appears to be the bossof this crew of rugged campers. Other than that I have little idea ofwhat is going on--except that he stole my boots and I'm going to getthen back if I have to kill him for them."
"Do not lust after material