14
THE PRISONER
Raf was two streets away from the circling box but still able to keepit in sight when its easy glide stopped, and, in a straight line, itswooped toward a roof emitting a shrill, rising whistle. It rose againa few seconds later as if baffled, but it continued to hover at thatpoint, keening forth its warning. The pilot reached the nextbuilding, but a street still kept him away from the conical structureabove which the box now hung.
Undecided, he stayed where he was. Should he go down to street leveland investigate? Before he had quite made up his mind he saw theforemost of the alien scouting party round into the thoroughfare belowand move purposefully at the cone tower, weapons to the fore. Judgingby their attitude, the box had run to earth there the prey they hadbeen searching for.
But it wasn't to be so easy. With another eerie howl the machinesoared once more and bobbed completely over the cone to the streetwhich must lie beyond it. Raf knew that he could not miss the end ofthe chase and started on a detour along the roof tops which shouldbring him to a vantage point. By the time he had made that journey hefound himself on a warehouse roof which projected over the edge of theriver.
From a point farther downstream a small boat was putting out. Two ofthe aliens paddled while a third crouched in the bow. A second partywas picking its way along the bank some distance away, both groupsseemingly heading toward a point a building or two to the left of theone where Raf had taken cover.
He heard the shrilling of the box, saw it bobbing along a line towardthe river. But in that direction there was only a mass of green. Theend to the weird chase came so suddenly that he was not prepared, andit was over before he caught a good look at the quarry. Somethingmoved down on the river bank and in that same instant the box hurtledearthward as might a spear. It struck, and the creature who had justcrawled out--out of the ground as far as Raf could see--toppled intothe stream. As the waters closed over the body, the box slued aroundand came to rest on the bank. The party in the boat sent their smallcraft flying toward the spot where the crawler had sunk.
One of the paddlers abandoned his post and slipped over the side,diving into the oily water. He made two tries before he was successfuland came to the surface with the other in tow. They did not try toheave the unconscious captive into the boat, merely kept the lollinghead above water as they turned downstream once more and vanished fromRaf's sight around the end of a pier, while the second party on thebank reclaimed the now quiet box and went off.
But Raf had seen enough to freeze him where he was for a moment. Thecreature which had popped out of the ground only to be struck by thebox and knocked into the river--he would take oath on the fact that itwas not one of the furred animals he had seen on the sea island.Surely it had been smooth-skinned, not unlike the aliens inconformation--one of their own kind they had been hunting down, acriminal or a rebel?
Puzzled, the pilot moved along from roof to roof, trying to pick upthe trail of the party in the boat, but as far as he could now see,the river was bare. If they had come ashore anywhere along here, theyhad simply melted into the city. At last he was forced to use thehoming beam, and it guided him back across the deserted metropolis tothe field.
There was still activity about the globe; they were bringing in theloot from the warehouse, but Lablet and Hobart stood by the flitter.As the pilot came up to them, the captain looked up eagerly.
"What happened?"
Raf sensed that there had been some change during his absence, thatHobart was looking to him for an explanation to make clear happeningshere. He told his story of the hunt and its ending, the capture of thestranger. Lablet nodded as he finished.
"That is the reason for this, you may depend upon it, Captain. One oftheir own people is at the bottom of it."
"Of what?" Raf wanted to ask, but Soriki did it for him.
Hobart smiled grimly. "We are all traveling back together. Take off inthe early morning. For some reason they wanted us out of the globe ina hurry--practically shoved us out half an hour ago."
Though the Terrans kept a watch on the larger ship as long as thelight lasted, the darkness defeated them. They did not see theprisoner being taken aboard. Yet none of them doubted that sometimeduring the dusky hours it had been done.
It was barely dawn when the globe took off the next day, and Rafbrought the flitter up on its trail, heading westward into the seawind. Below them the land held no signs of life. They swept over thedeserted, terraced city that was the gateway to the guarded interior,flew back over the line of sea islands. Raf climbed higher, not caringto go too near the island where the aliens had wrought their terriblevengeance on the trip out. And all four of the Terrans knew relief,though they might not admit it to each other, when once more Sorikiwas able to establish contact with the distant spacer.
"Turn north, sir?" the pilot suggested. "I could ride her beam in fromhere--we don't have to follow them home." He wanted to do that sobadly it was almost a compulsion to make his hand move on thecontrols. And when Hobart did not answer at once, he was sure that thecaptain would give that very order, taking them out of the company ofthose he had never trusted.
But Lablet spoiled that. "We have their word, Captain. That anti-gravunit that they showed us last night alone--"
So Hobart shook his head, and they meekly continued on the path set bythe globe across the ocean.
As the hours passed Raf's inner uneasiness grew. For some queer reasonwhich he could not define to himself or explain to anyone else, he wasnow possessed by an urgency to trail the globe which transcended andthen erased his dislike of the aliens. It was as if some appeal forhelp was being broadcast from the other ship, drawing him on. It wasthen that he began to question his assumption that the prisoner wasone of them.
Over and over again in his mind he tried to re-picture the capture ashe had witnessed it from the building just too far away and atslightly the wrong angle for a clear view. He would swear that thebody he had seen tumble into the flood had not been furred, that muchhe was sure of. But clothing, yes, there had been clothing. Not--hismind suddenly produced that one scrap of memory--not the bandagewindings of the aliens. And hadn't the skin been fairer? Was thereanother race on this continent, one they had not been told about?
When they at last reached the shore of the western continent andfinally the home city of the aliens, the globe headed back to itsberth, not in the roof cradle from which it had arisen, but sinkinginto the building itself. Raf brought the flitter down on a roof asclose to the main holding of the painted people as he could get. Noneof the aliens came near them. It seemed that they were to be ignored.Hobart paced along the flat roof, and Soriki sat in the flyer, nursinghis com, intent upon the slender thread of beam which tied them to theparent ship so many miles away.
"I don't understand it." Lablet's voice arose almost plaintively."They were so very persuasive about our accompanying them. They wereeager to have us see their treasures--"
Hobart swung around. "Somehow the balance of power has changed," heobserved, "in their favor. I'd give anything to know more about thatprisoner of theirs. You're sure it wasn't one of the furry people?" heasked Raf, as if hoping against hope that the pilot would reply indoubt.
"Yes, sir." Raf hesitated. Should he air his suspicions, that thecaptive was not of the same race as his captors either? But whatproof had he beyond a growing conviction that he could notsubstantiate?
"A rebel, a thief--" Lablet was ready to dismiss it as immaterial."Naturally they would be upset if they were having trouble with one oftheir own men. But to leave now, just when we are on the verge of newdiscoveries--That anti-gravity unit alone is worth our whole trip!Imagine being able to return to earth with the principle of that!"
"Imagine being able to return to earth with our skins on our backs,"was Soriki's whispered contribution. "If we had the sense of aVenusian water nit, we'd blast out of here so quick our tail fumes'dtake off with us!"
Privately Raf concurred, but the urge to know more about themyster
ious prisoner was still pricking at him, until he, contrary tohis usual detachment, felt driven to discover all that he could. Itwas almost, but Raf shied away from that wild idea, it was almost asif he were hearing a voiceless cry for aid, as if his mind was one ofSoriki's coms tuned in on an unknown wave length. He was angrilyimpatient with himself for that fantastic supposition. At the sametime, another part of his mind, as he walked to the edge of the roofand looked out at the buildings he knew were occupied by the aliens,was busy examining the scene as if he intended to crawl about on rooftops on a second scouting expedition.
Finally the rest decided that Lablet and Hobart were to try toestablish contact with the aliens once more. After they had gone, Rafopened a compartment in the flitter, the contents of which were hisparticular care. He squatted on his heels and surveyed the neatlystowed objects inside thoughtfully. A survival kit depended a greatdeal on the type of terrain in which the user was planning tosurvive--an aquatic world would require certain basic elements, afrozen tundra others--but there were a few items common to everyemergency, and those were now at Raf's fingertips. The blast bombs,sealed into their pexilod cases, guaranteed to stop all the attackersthat Terran explorers had so far met on and off worlds, a coil of ropehardly thicker than a strand of knitting yarn but of inconceivabletoughness and flexibility, an aid kit with endurance drugs and peppills which could keep a man on his feet and going long after food andwater failed. He had put them all in their separate compartments.
For a long moment he hunkered there, studying the assortment. Andthen, almost as if some will other than his own was making a choice,he reached out. The rope curled about his waist under his tunic sotautly that its presence could not be detected without a search, blastbombs went into the sealed seam pocket on his breast, and two flatcontainers with their capsules were tucked away in his belt pouch. Hesnapped the door shut and got to his feet to discover Soriki watchinghim. Only for a moment was Raf disconcerted. He knew that he would notbe able to explain why he must do what he was going to do. There wasno reason why he should. Soriki, except for being a few years hissenior, had no authority over him. He was not under the com-tech'sorders.
"Another trip into the blue?"
The pilot replied to that with a nod.
"Somehow, boy, I don't think anything's going to stop you, so whywaste my breath? But use your homer--and your eyes!"
Raf paused. There was an unmistakable note of friendliness in thecom-tech's warning. Almost he was tempted to try and explain. But howcould one make plain feelings for which there was no sensible reason?Sometimes it was better to be quiet.
"Don't dig up more than you can rebury." That warning, in the slangcurrent when they had left Terra, was reassuring simply because it wasof the earth he knew. Raf grinned. But he did not head toward the roofopening and the ramp inside the building. Instead he set a course hehad learned in the other city, swinging down to the roof of theneighboring structure, intent on working away from the inhabitedsection of the town before he went into the streets.
Either the aliens had not set any watch on the Terrans or else alltheir interest was momentarily engaged elsewhere. Raf, having gonethree or four blocks in the opposite direction to his goal, made hisway through a silent, long-deserted building to the street withoutseeing any of the painted people. In his ear buzzed the comforting humof the com, tying him with the flitter and so, in a manner, to safety.
He knew that the alien community had gathered in and around thecentral building they had visited. To his mind the prisoner was noweither in the headquarters of the warriors, where the globe had beenberthed, or had been taken to the administration building. Whether hecould penetrate either stronghold was a question Raf did not yet facesquarely.
But the odd something which tugged at him was as persistent as thebuzz in his earphones. And an idea came. If he _were_ obeying somestrange call for assistance, couldn't that in some way lead him towhat he sought? The only difficulty was that he had no way of beingmore receptive to the impulse than he now was. He could not use it asa compass bearing.
In the end he chose the Center as his goal, reasoning that if theprisoner were to be interviewed by the leaders of the aliens, he wouldbe taken to those rulers, they would not go to him. From a concealedplace across from the open square on which the building fronted, thepilot studied it carefully. It towered several stories above thesurrounding structures, to some of which it was tied by the ways abovethe streets. To use one of those bridges as a means of entering theheadquarters would be entirely too conspicuous.
As far as the pilot was able to judge, there was only one entrance onthe ground level, the wide front door with the imposingpicture-covered gates. Had he had free use of the flitter he mighthave tried to swing down from the hovering machine after dark. But hewas sure that Captain Hobart would not welcome the suggestion.
Underground? There had been those ways in that other city, a citywhich, though built on a much smaller scale, was not too different ingeneral outline from this one. The idea was worth investigation.
The doorway, which had afforded him a shelter from which to spy outthe land, yielded to his push, and he went through three large roomson the ground floor, paying no attention to the strange groups offurnishings, but seeking something else, which he had luck to find inthe last room, a ramp leading down.
It was in the underground that he made his first important find. Theyhad seen ground vehicles in the city, a few still in operation, butRaf had gathered that the fuel and extra parts for the machines werenow so scarce that they were only used in emergencies. Here, however,was a means of transportation quite different, a tunnel through whichran a ribbon of belt, wide enough to accommodate three or fourpassengers at once. It did not move, but when Raf dared to step outupon its surface, it swung under his weight. Since it ran in thegeneral direction of the Center he decided to use it. It trembledunder his tread, but he found that he could run along it making nosound.
The tunnel was not in darkness, for square plates set in the roof gavea diffused violet light. However, not too far ahead, the light wasbrighter, and it came from one side, not the roof. Another station onthis abandoned way? The pilot approached it with caution. If his bumpof direction was not altogether off, this must be either below theCenter or very close to it.
The second station proved to be a junction where more than one of theelastic paths met. Though he crouched to listen for a long momentbefore venturing out into that open space, he could hear or seenothing which suggested that the aliens ever came down now to theselevels.
They had provided an upward ramp, and Raf climbed it, only to meet hisfirst defeat at its top. For here was no opening to admit him to theground floor of what he hoped was the Center. Baffled by the smoothsurface over which he vainly ran his hands seeking for some clue tothe door, he decided that the aliens had, for some purpose of theirown, walled off the lower regions. Discouraged, he returned to thejunction level. But he was not content to surrender his plans soeasily. Slowly he made a circuit of the platform, examining the wallsand celling. He found an air shaft, a wide opening striking up intothe heart of the building above.
It was covered with a grille and it was above his reach but....
Raf measured distances and planned his effort. The mouth of a junctiontunnel ran less than two feet away from that grille. The opening wasoutlined with a ledge, which made a complete arch from the floor. Hestopped and triggered the gravity plates in his space boots. Made togive freedom of action when the ship was in free fall, they might justprovide a weak suction here. And they did! He was able to climb thatarch and, standing on it, work loose the grille which had beenfashioned to open. Now....
The pilot flashed his hand torch up into that dark well. He had beenright--and lucky! There were holds at regular intervals, somethingmust have been serviced by workmen in here. This was going to be easy.His fingers found the first hold, and he wormed his way into theshaft.
It was not a difficult climb, for there were niches along the waywhere the
alien mechanics who had once made repairs had either restedor done some of their work. And there were also grilles on each levelwhich gave him at least a partial view of what lay beyond.
His guess was right; he recognized the main hall of the Center as heclimbed past the grid there, heading up toward those levels where hewas sure the leaders of the aliens had their private quarters. Twicehe paused to look in upon conferences of the gaudily wrapped andpainted civilians, but, since he could not understand what they weresaying, it was a waste of time to linger.
He was some eight floors up when chance, luck, or that mysterioussomething which had brought him into this venture, led him to theright place at the right time. There was one of those niches, and hehad just settled into it, peering out through the grid, when he sawthe door at the opposite end of the room open and in marched a partyof warriors with a prisoner in their midst.
Raf's eyes went wide. It was the captive he sought; he had no doubt ofthat. But who--what--was that prisoner?
This was no fur-covered half-animal, nor was it one of thedelicate-boned, decadent, painted creatures such as those who nowringed in their captive. Though the man had been roughly handled andnow reeled rather than walked, Raf thought for one wild instant thatit was one of the crew from the spacer. The light hair, showing ringsof curl, the tanned face which, beneath dirt and bruises, displayed avery familiar cast of features, the body hardly covered by rags ofclothing--they were all so like those of his own kind that his mind atfirst refused to believe that this was _not_ someone he knew. Yet asthe party moved toward his hiding place he knew that he was facing atotal stranger.
Stranger or no, Raf was sure that he saw a Terran. Had another shipmade a landing on this planet? One of those earlier ships whose fatehad been a mystery on their home world? Who--and when--and why? Hehuddled as close to the grid as he could get, alert to the slightestmovement below as the prisoner faced his captors.