Page 16 of Star Born


  16

  SURPRISE ATTACK

  So much had happened so quickly during the past hour that Dalgard hadno chance to plan or even sort out impressions in his mind. He had noguess as to where this stranger, now taking some of the burden of thewounded merman from him, had sprung from. The other's clothing, thehelmet covering his head were more akin to those worn by the aliensthan they were to the dress of the colonist. Yet the man beneath thosetrappings was of the same breed as his own people. And he could notbelieve he was a Peaceman of Pax--all he had done here spoke againstthose legends of dark Terran days Dalgard had heard from childhood.But where had he come from? The only answer could be another outlawcolony ship.

  "We are in the inner ways," Dalgard tried to reach the mind of themerman as they pounded on into the corridors which led from the arena."Do you know these--" He had a faint hope that the sea man because ofhis longer captivity might have a route of escape to suggest.

  "--down to the lower levels--" the thought came slowly, forced out bya weakening will. "Lower--levels--roads to the sea--"

  That was what Dalgard had been hoping for, some passage which wouldrun seaward and so to safety, such as he had found with Sssuri in thatother city.

  "What are we hunting?" the stranger broke in, and Dalgard realizedthat perhaps the other did not follow the mind talk. His words had anodd inflection, a clipped accent which was new.

  "A lower way," he returned in the speech of his own people.

  "To the right." The merman, struggling against his own weakness, hadraised his head and was looking about as one who searches for afamiliar landmark.

  There was a branching way to the right, and Dalgard swung into it,bringing the other two after him. This was a narrow passage, and twicethey brushed by sealed doors. It brought them up against a blank wall.The stranger wheeled, his odd weapon ready, for they could hear theshouts of pursuers behind them. But the merman pulled free of Dalgardand went down on the floor to dig with his taloned fingers at somedepressions there.

  "Open here," the thought came clearly, "then down!"

  Dalgard went down on one knee, able now to see the outline of a trapdoor. It must be pried up. His sword-knife was gone, the spear theyhad given him for the arena he had dropped when he dragged the mermanout of danger. He looked to the stranger. About the other's narrowhips was slung a belt from which hung pouches and tools the primitivecolonist could not evaluate. But there was also a bush knife, and hereached for it.

  "The knife--"

  The stranger glanced down at the blade he wore in surprise, as if hehad forgotten it. Then with one swift movement he drew it from itssheath and flipped it to Dalgard.

  On the track behind the clamor was growing, and the colony scoutworked with concentration at his task of fitting the blade into thecrack and freeing the door. As soon as there was space enough, themerman's claws recklessly slid under, and he added what strength hecould to Dalgard's. The door arose and fell back onto the pavementwith a clang, exposing a dark pit.

  "Got 'em!" the words burst from the stranger. He had pressed thefiring button of his weapon. Where the passage in which they stood metthe main corridor, there was an agitated shouting and then suddensilence.

  "Down--" The merman had crawled to the edge of the opening. From itrose a dank, fetid smell. Now that the noise in the corridor wasstilled Dalgard could hear something: the sound of water.

  "How do we get down?" he questioned the merman.

  "It is far, there are no climbing holds--"

  Dalgard straightened. Well, he supposed, even a leap into that wasbetter than to be taken a second time by Those Others. But was heready for such a desperate solution?

  "A long way down?" The stranger leaned over to peer into the well.

  "He says so," Dalgard nodded at the merman. "And there are no climbingholds."

  The stranger plucked at the front of his tunic with one hand, stillholding his weapon with the other. From an opening he drew a line, andDalgard grabbed it eagerly, testing the first foot with a sharp jerk.He had never seen such stuff, so light of weight and yet so tough. Hisdelight reached the merman, who sat up to gaze owlishly at the coilsthe stranger pulled from concealment.

  They used the door of the well for the lowering beam, hitching thecord about it. Then the merman noosed one end about him, and Dalgard,the door taking some of the strain, lowered him. The end of the cordwas perilously close to the scout's fingers when there was a signalingpull from below, and he was free to reel in the loose line. He turnedto the stranger.

  "You go. I'll watch them." The other waved his weapon to thecorridor.

  There was some sense to that, Dalgard had to agree. He made fast theend of the cord and went in his turn into the dark, burning the palmof one hand before he was able to slacken the speed of his descent.Then he landed thigh-deep in water, from which arose an unpleasantsmell.

  "All right--Come--" he put full force into the thought he beamed atthe stranger above. When the other did not obey, Dalgard began towonder if he should climb to his aid. Had the aliens broken throughand overwhelmed the other? Or what had happened? The rope whisked upout of his hands. And a moment later a voice rang eerily overhead.

  "Clear below! Coming down!"

  Dalgard scrambled out of the space under the opening, heading on intothe murk where the merman waited. There was a splash as the strangerhit the stream, and the rope lashed down behind him at their unitedjerk.

  "Where do we go from here?" The voice carried through the dark.

  Scaled fingers hooked about Dalgard's right hand and tugged him on. Hereached back in turn and locked grip with the stranger. So united thethree splashed on through the rancid liquid. In time they came out ofthe first tunnel into a wider section, but here the odor was worse,catching in their throats, making them sway dizzily. There seemed tobe no end to these ways, which Raf guessed were the drains of theancient city.

  Only the merman appeared to have a definite idea of where they weregoing, though he halted once or twice when they came to a side passageas if thinking out their course. Since the man from the arena acceptedthe furred one's guidance, Raf depended upon it too. Though hewondered if they would ever find their way out into the open oncemore.

  He was startled by sudden pain as the hand leading him tightened itsgrip to bone-bruising force. They had stopped, and the liquid washedabout them until Raf wondered if he would ever feel clean again. Whenthey started on, they moved much more swiftly. His companions were ina hurry, but Raf was unprepared for the sight which broke as they cameout in a high-roofed cavern.

  There was an odd, cold light there--but that light was not all he saw.Drawn up on a ledge rising out of the contaminated stream were rows ofthe furred people, all sitting in silence, bone spears resting acrosstheir knees, long knives at their belts. They watched with round,unblinking eyes the three who had just come out of the side passage.The rescued merman loosened his grip on Dalgard's hand and wadedforward to confront that quiet, waiting assembly. Neither he nor hisfellows made any sound, and Raf guessed that they had some other formof communication, perhaps the same telepathic ability to broadcastmessages which this amazing man beside him displayed.

  "They are of his tribe," the other explained, sensing that Raf couldnot understand. "They came here to try to save him, for he is one oftheir Speakers-for-Many."

  "Who are they? Who are you?" Raf asked the two questions which hadbeen with him ever since the wild adventure had begun.

  "They are the People-of-the-Sea, our friends, our knife brothers. AndI am of Homeport. My people came from the stars in a ship, but not aship of this world. We have been here for many years."

  The mermen were moving now. Several had waded forward to greet theirchief, aiding him ashore. But when Raf moved toward the ledge, Dalgardput out a restraining hand.

  "Until we are summoned--no. They have their customs. And this is aparty-for-war. This tribe knows not my people, save by rumor. Wewait."

  Raf looked over the ranks of the sea folk. The
light came from globesborne by every twentieth warrior, a globe in which something thatgave off phosphorescent gleams swam around and around. The spearswhich each merman carried were slender and wickedly barbed, the knivesalmost sword length. The pilot remembered the flame-throwers of thealiens and could not see any victory for the merman party.

  "No, knife blade against the fire--that is not equal."

  Raf started, amazed and then irritated that the other had read histhoughts so easily.

  "But what else can be done? Some stand must be taken, even if a wholetribe goes down to the Great Dark because they do it."

  "What do you mean?" Raf demanded.

  "Is it not the truth that Those Others went across the sea to plundertheir forgotten storehouse of knowledge?" countered the other. Hespoke slowly as if he found difficulty in clothing thoughts withwords. "Sssuri said that was why they came."

  Raf, remembering what he had seen--the stripping of shelves and tablesof the devices that were stored on them--could only nod.

  "Then it is also true that soon they will have worse than fire withwhich to hunt us down. And they shall turn against your colony as theywill against Homeport. For the mermen, and their own records, havetaught us that it is their nature to rule, that they can live in peaceonly when all living things on this world are their slaves."

  "My colony?" Raf was momentarily diverted. "I'm one of a spacer'screw, not the member of any colony!"

  Dalgard stared at the stranger. His guess had been right. A new ship,another ship which had recently crossed deep space to find them hadflown the dark wastes even as the First Elders had done! It must bethat more outlaws had come to find a new home! This was wonderfulnews, news he must take to Homeport. Only, it was news which mustwait. For the sea people had come to a decision of their own.

  "What are they going to do now?" Raf asked.

  The mermen were not retreating, instead they were slipping from theledge in regular order, forming somewhat crooked ranks in the water.

  Dalgard did not reply at once, making mind touch not only to ask butto impress his kinship on the sea people. They were united in asingle-minded purpose, with failure before them--unless--He turned tothe stranger.

  "They go to war upon Those Others. He who guided us here knows alsothat the new knowledge they have brought into the city is danger. Ifan end is not put to it before they can use it, then"--heshrugged--"the mermen must retreat into the depths. And we, who cannot follow them--" He made a quick, thrusting gesture as if using aknife on his own throat. "For a time Those Others have been growingfewer in number and weaker. Their children are not many and sometimesthere are years when none are born at all. And they have forgotten somuch. But now, perhaps they can increase once more, not only in wisdomand strength of arms, but in numbers. The mermen have kept a watch onthem, content to let matters rest, sure that time would defeat them.But now, time no longer fights on our side."

  Raf watched the furred people with their short spears, their knives.He recalled that rocky island where the aliens had unleashed the fire.The expeditionary force would not have a chance against that.

  "But _your_ weapons would." The words addressed to him were clear,though they had not been spoken aloud. Raf's hand went to the pocketwhere two more of the blast bombs rested. "And this is your battle asmuch as ours!"

  But it wasn't his fight! Dalgard had gone too far with thatsuggestion. Raf had no ties on this world, the _RS 10_ was waiting totake him away. It was strictly against all orders, all his training,for him to become involved in alien warfare. The pilot's hand wentback to his belt. He was not going to allow himself to be pushed ontoanything foolish, whether this "colonist" could read his mind or not.

  The first ranks of the mermen had already waded past them, headinginto the way down which the escaping prisoners had come. To Raf's eyesnone of them paid any attention to the two humans as they went, thoughthey were probably in mental touch with his companion.

  "You are already termed one of us in _their_ eyes," Dalgard wascareful to use oral speech this time. "When you came to our rescue inthe arena they believed that you were of our kind. Do you think youcan return to walk safely through the city? So"--he drew a hissingbreath of surprise when the thought which leaped into Raf's mind wasplain to Dalgard also--"you have--there are more of you there! Butalready Those Others may be moving against them because of what youhave done!"

  Raf who had been about to join the mermen stopped short. That aspecthad not struck him before. What had happened to Soriki and theflitter, to the captain and Lablet, who had been in the heart of theenemy territory when he had challenged the aliens? It would be onlylogical that the painted people would consider them all dangerous now.He must get out of here, back to the flitter, try to help whereunwittingly he had harmed--

  Dalgard caught up with him. He had been able to read a little of whathad passed through the other's mind. Though it was difficult to sortorder out of the tangled thoughts. The longer he was with thestranger, the more aware he became of the differences between them.Outwardly they might appear of the same species, but inwardly--Dalgardfrowned--there was something that he must consider later, when theyhad a thinking space. But now he could understand the other'sagitation. It was very true that Those Others might turn on thestranger's fellows in retaliation for his deeds.

  Together they joined the mermen. There was no talk, nothing to breakthe splashing sound of bodies moving against the current. As theypressed on, Raf was sure that this was not the same way they had come.And once more Dalgard answered his unspoken question.

  "We seek another door into the city, one long known to thesetribesmen."

  Raf would gladly have run, but he could not move faster than hisguides, and while their pace seemed deliberate, they did not pause torest. The whole city, he decided, must be honeycombed with thesedrains. After traversing a fourth tunnel, they climbed out of theflood onto a dry passage, which wormed along, almost turning on itselfat times.

  Side passages ran out from this corridor like rootlets from a parentroot, and small parties of mermen broke from the regiment to followcertain ones, leaving without orders or farewells. At the fifth ofthese Dalgard touched Raf's arm and drew him aside.

  "This is our way." Tensely the scout waited. If the stranger refused,then the one plan the scout had formed during the past half-hour wouldfail. He still held to the hope that Raf, with what Raf carried, couldsucceed in the only project which would mean, perhaps not his safetynor the safety of the tribe he now marched among, but the eventualsafety of Astra itself, the safety of all the harmless people of thesea, the little creatures of the grass and the sky, of his own land atHomeport. He would have to force Raf into action if need be. He didnot use the mind touch; he knew now the unspoken resentment whichfollowed that. If it became necessary--Dalgard's hands balled intofists--he would strike down the stranger--take from him--Swiftly heturned his thoughts from that. It might be easy, now that he hadestablished mental contact with this off-worlder, for the other topick up a thought as vivid as that.

  But luckily Raf obediently turned into the side passage with the sixmermen who were to attack at this particular point. The way grewnarrower until they crept on hands and knees between rough walls whichwere not of the same construction as the larger tunnels. The smallermermen had no difficulty in getting through, but twice Raf's equipmentbelt caught on projections and he had to fight his way free.

  They crawled one by one into a ventilation shaft much like the one hehad climbed at the Center. Dalgard's whisper reached him.

  "We are now in the building which houses their sky ship."

  "I know that one," Raf returned almost eagerly, glad at last to beback so close to familiar territory. He climbed up the hand-andfootholds the sea-monster lamp disclosed, wishing the mermen aheadwould speed up.

  The grille at the head of the shaft had been removed, and the invadersarose one by one into a dim and dusty place of motionless machinery,which, by all tangible evidence, had not been entered for some time.But th
e cautious manner in which the sea people strung out to approachthe far door argued that the same might not be true beyond.

  For the first time Raf noticed that his human companion now held oneof the knives of the merpeople, and he drew his stun gun. But he couldnot forget the flame-throwers which might at that very moment betrained upon the other side of that door by the aliens. They might bewalking into a trap.

  He half expected one of those disconcerting thought answers fromDalgard. But the scout was playing safe--nothing must upset thestranger. Confronted by what had to be done, he might be influencedinto acting for them. So Dalgard strode softly ahead, apparently notinterested in Raf.

  One of the mermen worked at the door, using the point of his spear asa lever. Here again was a vista of machinery. But these machines werealive; a faint hum came from their casings. The mermen scattered,taking cover, a move copied by the two humans.

  The pilot remained in hiding, but he saw one of the furred peoplerunning on as light-footedly as a shadow. Then his arm drew back, andhe cast his spear. Raf fancied he could hear a faint whistle as theweapon cut the air. There was a cry, and the merman ran on, vanishinginto the shadows, to return a second or two later wiping stains fromhis weapon. Out of their places of concealment, his fellows gatheredabout him. And the humans followed.

  Now they were fronted by a ramp leading up, and the mermen took itquickly, their bare, scaled feet setting up a whispering echo whichwas drowned by the clop of Raf's boots. Once more the party was alert,ready for trouble, and taking his cue from them, he kept his stun gunin his hand.

  But the maneuver at the head of the ramp surprised him. For, though hehad heard no signal, all the party but one plastered their bodies backagainst the wall, Dalgard pulling Raf into position beside him, thescout's muscular bare arm pinning the pilot into a narrow space. Onemerman stood at the crack of the door at the top of the ramp. Hepushed the barrier open and crept in.

  Meanwhile those who waited poised their spears, all aimed at thatdoor. Raf fingered the button on his gun to "spray" as he had when hehad faced the attack of the scavengers in the arena tunnels.

  There was a cry, a shout with a summons in it. And the venturesomemerman thudded back through the door. But he was not alone. Two of theblack guardsmen, their flamers spitting fiery death, ran behind him,and the curling lash of one of those flames almost wreathed the runnerbefore he swung aside. Raf fired without consciously aiming. Both ofthe sentries fell forward, to slide limply down the ramp.

  Then Dalgard pulled him on. "The way is open," he said. "This is it!"There was an excited exultation in his voice.