The World Behind the Moon

  _By Paul Ernst_

  _They fell, for hours, into a deep chasm._]

  [Sidenote: Two intrepid Earth-men fight it out with the horrificmonsters of Zeud's frightful jungles.]

  Like pitiless jaws, a distant crater opened for their ship.Helplessly, they hurtled toward it: helplessly, because they werestill in the nothingness of space, with no atmospheric resistance onwhich their rudders, or stern or bow tubes, could get a purchase tosteer them.

  Professor Dorn Wichter waited anxiously for the slight vibration thatshould announce that the projectile-shaped shell had entered the newplanet's atmosphere.

  "Have we struck it yet?" asked Joyce, a tall blond young man with theshoulders of an athlete and the broad brow and square chin of one whocombines dreams with action. He made his way painfully towardWichter. It was the first time he had attempted to move since theshell had passed the neutral point--that belt midway between the moonand the world behind it, where the pull of gravity of each satellitewas neutralized by the other. They, and all the loose objects in theshell, had floated uncomfortably about the middle of the chamber forhalf an hour or so, gradually settling down again; until now it waspossible, with care, to walk.

  "Have we struck it?" he repeated, leaning over the professor'sshoulder and staring at the resistance gauge.

  "No." Absently Wichter took off his spectacles and polished them."There's not a trace of resistance yet."

  They gazed out the bow window toward the vast disc, like a serrated,pock-marked plate of blue ice, that was the planet Zeud--discoveredand named by them. The same thought was in the mind of each. Supposethere were no atmosphere surrounding Zeud to cushion their descentinto the hundred-mile crater that yawned to receive them?

  "Well," said Joyce after a time, "we're taking no more of a chancehere than we did when we pointed our nose toward the moon. We werealmost sure that was no atmosphere there--which meant we'd nose diveinto the rocks at five thousand miles an hour. On Zeud there might beanything." His eyes shone. "How wonderful that there should be such aplanet, unsuspected during all the centuries men have been studyingthe heavens!"

  Wichter nodded agreement. It was indeed wonderful. But what was morewonderful was its present discovery: for that would never havetranspired had not he and Joyce succeeded in their attempt to fly tothe moon. From there, after following the sun in its slow journeyaround to the lost side of the lunar globe--that face which the earthhas never yet observed--they had seen shining in the near distancethe great ball which they had christened Zeud.

  * * * * *

  Astronomical calculations had soon described the mysterious hiddensatellite. It was almost a twin to the moon; a very little smaller,and less than eighty thousand miles away. Its rotation was nearlysimilar, which made its days not quite sixteen of our earthly days. Itwas of approximately the weight, per cubic mile, of Earth. And thereit whirled, directly in a line with the earth and the moon, moving asthe moon moved so that it was ever out of sight beyond it, as a dimewould be out of sight if placed in a direct line behind a penny.

  Zeud, the new satellite, the world beyond the moon! In theirexcitement at its discovery, Joyce and Wichter had left themoon--which they had found to be as dead and cold as it had beensurmised to be--and returned summarily to Earth. They had replenishedtheir supplies and their oxygen tanks, and had come back--to circlearound the moon and point the sharp prow of the shell toward Zeud. Thegift of the moon to Earth was a dubious one; but the gift of apossibly living planet-colony to mankind might be the solution of theovercrowded conditions of the terrestial sphere!

  "Speed, three thousand miles an hour," computed Wichter. "Distance toZeud, nine hundred and eighty miles. If we don't strike a few atoms ofhydrogen or something soon we're going to drill this nearest crater alittle deeper!"

  Joyce nodded grimly. At two thousand miles from Earth there had stillbeen enough hydrogen traces in the ether to give purchase to theexplosions of their water-motor. At six hundred miles from the moonthey had run into a sparse gaseous belt that had enabled them tochange direction and slow their speed. They had hoped to find hydrogenat a thousand or twelve hundred miles from Zeud.

  "Eight hundred and thirty miles," commented Wichter, his slender,bent body tensed. "Eight hundred miles--ah!"

  A thrumming sound came to their ears as the shell quivered,imperceptibly almost, but unmistakeably, at the touch of some faintresistance outside in space.

  "We've struck it, Joyce. And it's much denser than the moon's, even aswe'd hoped. There'll be life on Zeud, my boy, unless I'm vastlymistaken. You'd better look to the motor now."

  * * * * *

  Joyce went to the water-motor. This was a curious, but extremelysimple affair. There was a glass box, ribbed with polished steel,about the size and shape of a cigar box, which was full of water.Leading away from this, to the bow and stern of the shell, were twosmall pipes. The pipes were greatly thickened for a period of threefeet or so, directly under the little tank, and were braced bybed-plates so heavy as to look all out of proportion. Around thethickened parts of the pipes were coils of heavy, insulated copperwire. There were no valves nor cylinders, no revolving parts: that wasall there was to the "motor."

  Joyce didn't yet understand the device. The water dripped from thetank, drop by drop, to be abruptly disintegrated, made into anexplosive, by being subjected to a powerful magnetic field induced inthe coils by a generator in the bow of the shell. As each drop ofwater passed into the pipes, and was instantaneously broken up, therewas a violent but controlled explosion--and the shell was kickedanother hundred miles ahead on its journey. That was all Joyce knewabout it.

  He threw the bow switch. There was a soft shock as the motor exhaustedthrough the forward tube, slowing their speed.

  "Turn on the outside generator propellers," ordered Wichter. "I thinkour batteries are getting low."

  Joyce slipped the tiny, slim-bladed propellers into gear. They beganto turn, slowly at first in the almost non-existent atmosphere.

  "Four hundred miles," announced Wichter. "How's the temperature?"

  Joyce stepped to the thermometer that registered the heat of the outerwall. "Nine hundred degrees," he said.

  "Cut down to a thousand miles an hour," commanded Wichter. "Fivehundred as soon as the motor will catch that much. I'll keep ourcourse straight toward this crater. It's in wells like that, thatwe'll find livable air--if we're right in believing there is such athing on Zeud."

  * * * * *

  Joyce glanced at the thermometer. It still registered hundreds ofdegrees, though their speed had been materially reduced.

  "I guess there's livable air, all right," he said. "It's pretty thickoutside already."

  The professor smiled. "Another theory vindicated. I was sure thatZeud, swinging on the outside of the Earth-moon-Zeud chain and hencetraveling at a faster rate, would pick up most of the moon'satmosphere over a period of millions of years. Also it must have beenshielded by the moon, to some extent, against the constant smallatmospheric leakage most celestial globes are subject to. Just thesame, when we land, we'll test conditions with a rat or two."

  At a signal from him, Joyce checked their speed to four hundred milesan hour, then to two hundred, and then, as they descended below thehighest rim of the circular cliffs of the crater, almost to a fullstop. They floated toward the surface of Zeud, watching withbreathless interest the panorama that unfolded beneath them.

  They were nosing toward a spot that was being favored with the Zeudiansunrise. Sharp and clear the light rays slanted down, illuminatingabout half the crater's floor and leaving the cliff protected half indim shadow.

  The illuminated part of the giant pit was as bizarre as the landscapeof a nightmare. There were purplish trees, immense beyond belief.There were broad, smooth pools of inky black fluid that was oily andtroubled in spots as though disturbed by some moving things under thesurface.
There were bare, rocky patches where the stones, the longdrippings of ancient lava flow, were spread like bleaching grayskeletons of monsters. And over all, rising from pools and bare groundand jungle alike, was a thin, miasmic mist.

  * * * * *

  Sustained by the slow, steady exhaust of the motor, rising a littlewith each partly muffled explosion and sinking a little further ineach interval, they settled toward a bare, lava strewn spot thatappealed to Wichter as being a good landing place. With a last hiss,and a grinding jar, they grounded. Joyce opened the switch to cut offthe generator.

  "Now let's see what the air's like," said Wichter, lifting down asmall cage in which was penned an active rat.

  He opened a double panel in the shell's hull, and freed the littleanimal. In an agony of suspense they watched it as it leaped onto thebare lava and halted a moment....

  "Seems to like it," said Joyce, drawing a great breath.

  The rat, as though intoxicated by its sudden freedom, raced away outof sight, covering eight or ten feet at a bound, its legs scurryingludicrously in empty air during its short flights.

  "That means that we can dispense with oxygen helmets--and that we'dbetter take our guns," said Wichter, his voice tense, his eyessnapping behind his glasses.

  He stepped to the gun rack. In this were half a dozen air-guns. Longand of very small bore, they discharged a tiny steel shell in whichwas a liquid of his invention that, about a second after the heat ofits forced passage through the rifle barrel, expanded instantly ingaseous form to millions of times its liquid bulk. It was the mostpowerful explosive yet found, but one that was beautifully safe tocarry inasmuch as it could be exploded only by heat.

  "Are we ready?" he said, handing a gun to Joyce. "Then--let's go!"

  * * * * *

  But for a breath or two they hesitated before opening the heavy doubledoor in the side of the hull, savoring to the full the immensity ofthe moment.

  The rapture of the explorer who is the first to set foot on a vast newcontinent was theirs, magnified a hundredfold. For they were the firstto set foot on a vast new planet! An entire new world, containingheaven alone knew what forms of life, what monstrous or infinitesimalcreatures, lay before them. Even the profound awe they had experiencedwhen landing on the moon was dwarfed by the solemnity of thisoccasion; just as it is less soul stirring to discover an arcticcontinent which is perpetually cased in barren ice, than to discover acontinent which is warmly fruitful and, probably, teeming with life.

  Still wordless, too stirred to speak, they opened the vault-like doorand stepped out--into a humid heat which was like that of their owntropical regions, but not so unendurable.

  In their short stay on the moon, during which they had taken severalwalks in their insulated suits, they had become somewhat accustomed tothe decreased weight of their bodies due to the lesser gravity, sothat here, where their weight was even less, they did not make anyblunders of stepping twenty feet instead of a yard.

  Walking warily, glancing alertly in all directions to guard againstany strange animals that might rush out to destroy them, they movedtoward the nearest stretch of jungle.

  * * * * *

  The first thing that arrested their attention was the size of thetrees they were approaching. They had got some idea of their hugenessfrom the shell, but viewed from ground level they loomed even larger.Eight hundred, a thousand feet they reared their mighty tops, withtrunks hundreds of feet in circumference; living pyramids whose baseswove together to make an impenetrable ceiling over the jungle floor.The leaves were thick and bloated like cactus growths, and their colorwas a pronounced lavender.

  "We must take back several of those leaves," said Wichter, hisscientific soul filled with cold excitement.

  "I wish we could take back some of this air, too." Joyce filled hislungs to capacity. "Isn't it great? Like wine! It almost counteractsthe effects of the heat."

  "There's more oxygen in it than in our own," surmised Wichter. "MyGod! What's that!"

  They halted for an instant. From the depths of the lavender jungle hadcome an ear shattering, screaming hiss, as though some monstrousserpent were in its death agony.

  They waited to hear if the noise would be repeated. It wasn't.Dubiously they started on again.

  "We'd better not go in there too far," said Joyce. "If we didn't comeout again it would cost Earth a new planet. No one else knows thesecret of your water-motor."

  "Oh, nothing living can stand against these guns of ours," repliedWichter confidently. "And that noise might not have been caused byanything living. It might have been steam escaping from some volcaniccrevice."

  They started cautiously down a well defined, hard packed trail throughthorny lavender underbrush. As they went, Joyce blazed marks onvarious tree trunks marking the direction back to the shell. The toughfibres exuded a bluish liquid from the cuts that bubbled slowly likeblood.

  * * * * *

  To the right and left of them were cup-shaped bushes that looked liketraps; and that their looks were not deceiving was proved by amuffled, bleating cry that rose from the compressed leaves of one ofthem they passed. Sluggish, blind crawling things like three-footslugs flowed across their path and among the tree trunks, leavingviscous trails of slime behind them. And there were larger things....

  "Careful," said Wichter suddenly, coming to a halt and peering intothe gloom at their right.

  "What did you see?" whispered Joyce.

  Wichter shook his head. The gigantic, two-legged, purplish figure hehad dimly made out in the steamy dark, had moved away. "I don't know.It looked a little like a giant ape."

  They halted and took stock of their situation, mechanically wipingperspiration from their streaming faces, and pondering as to whetheror not they should turn back. Joyce, who was far from being a coward,thought they should.

  "In this undergrowth," he pointed out, "we might be rushed before wecould even fire our guns. And we're nearly a mile from the shell."

  But Wichter was like an eager child.

  "We'll press on just a little," he urged. "To that clear spot in frontof us." He pointed along the trail to where sunlight was blazing downthrough an opening in the trees. "As soon as we see what's there,we'll go back."

  With a shrug, Joyce followed the eager little man down the weird trailunder the lavender trees. In a few moments they had reached theclearing which was Wichter's goal. They halted on its edge, gazing atit with awe and repulsion.

  * * * * *

  It was a circular quagmire of festering black mud about a hundredyards across. Near at hand they could see the mud heaving, veryslowly, as though abysmal forms of life were tunneling along justunder the surface. They glanced toward the center of the bog, whichwas occupied by one of the smooth black pools, and cried aloud atwhat they saw.

  At the brink of the pool was lying a gigantic creature like a great,thick snake--a snake with a lizard's head, and a series ofmany-jointed, scaled legs running down its powerful length. Its mouthwas gaping open to reveal hundreds of needle-sharp, backward pointingteeth. Its legs and thick, stubbed tail were threshing feebly in themud as though it were in distress; and its eyes, so small as to beinvisible in its repulsive head, were glazed and dull.

  "Was that what we heard back a ways?" wondered Joyce.

  "Probably," said Wichter. His eyes shone as he gazed at the nightmareshape. Impulsively he took a step toward the stirring mud.

  "Don't be entirely insane," snapped Joyce, catching his arm.

  "I must see it closer," said Wichter, tugging to be free.

  "Then we'll climb a tree and look down on it. We'll probably be saferup off the ground anyway."

  * * * * *

  They ascended the nearest jungle giant--whose rubbery bark was soringed and scored as to be as easy to climb as a staircase--to thefirst great bough, about fifty feet from the
ground, and edged outtill they hung over the rim of the quagmire. From there, with the aidof their binoculars, they expected to see the dying monster in everydetail. But when they looked toward the pool it was not in sight!

  "Were we seeing things?" exclaimed Wichter, rubbing his glasses. "I'dhave sworn it was lying there!"

  "It was," said Joyce grimly. "Look at the pool. That'll tell you whereit went."

  The black, secretive surface was bubbling and waving as though, downin its depths, a terrific fight were taking place.

  "Something came up and dragged our ten-legged lizard down to its den.Then that something's brothers got onto the fact that a feast wasbeing held, and rushed in. That pool would be no place for abefore-breakfast dip!"

  * * * * *

  Wichter started to say something in reply, then gazed, hypnotized, atthe opposite wall of the jungle.

  From the dense screen of lavender foliage stretched a glistening,scale-armored neck, as thick as a man's body at its thinnest point,which was just behind a tremendous-jawed crocodilian head. It taperedback for a distance of at least thirty feet, to merge into a body asbig as that of a terrestial whale, that was supported by four squat,ponderous legs.

  Moving with surprising rapidity, the enormous thing slid into the mudand began ploughing a way, belly deep, toward the pool. Shapeless,slow-writhing forms were cast up in its wake, to quiver for a momentin the sunlight and then melt below the mud again.

  One of the bloated, formless mud-crawlers was snapped up in the hugejaws with an abrupt plunge of the long neck, and the monster began tofeed, hog-like, slobbering over the loathsome carcass.

  Wichter shook his head, half in fanatical eagerness, half in despair."I'd like to stay and see more," he said with a sigh, "but if that'sthe kind of creatures we're apt to encounter in the Zeudian jungle,we'd better be going at once--"

  "Sh-h!" snapped Joyce. Then, in a barely audible whisper: "I think thething heard your voice!"

  The monster had abruptly ceased its feeding. Its head, thrust high inthe air, was waving inquisitively from side to side. Suddenly itexpelled the air from its vast lungs in a roaring cough--and starteddirectly for their tree.

  "Shoot!" cried Wichter, raising his gun.

  * * * * *

  Moving with the speed of an express train, the monster had almost gotto their overhanging branch before they could pull the triggers. Bothshells imbedded themselves in the enormous chest, just as the longneck reached up for them. And at once things began to happen withcataclysmic rapidity.

  Almost with their impact the shells exploded. The monster stopped,with a great hole torn in its body. Then, dying on its feet, it thrustits great head up and its huge jaws crunched over the branch to whichits two puny destroyers were clinging.

  With all its dozens of tons of weight, it jerked in a gargantuan deathagony. The tree, enormous as it was, shook with it, and the branchitself was tossed as though in a hurricane.

  There was a splintering sound. Wichter and Joyce dropped their guns tocling more tightly to the bole of the drooping branch that was theironly security. The guns glanced off the mountainous body--and, with alast convulsion of the mighty legs, were swept underneath!

  The monster was still at last, its insensate jaws yet gripping thebough. The two men looked at each other in speechless consternation.The shell a mile off through the dreadful jungle.... Themselves,helpless without their guns....

  "Well," said Joyce at last. "I guess we'd better be on our way.Waiting here, thinking it over, won't help any. Lucky there's nonight, for a couple of weeks at least, to come stealing down on us."

  * * * * *

  He started down the great trunk, with Wichter following close behind.Walking as rapidly as they could, they hurried back along the tunneledtrail toward their shell.

  They hadn't covered a hundred yards when they heard a mighty crashingof underbrush behind them. Glancing back, they saw tooth-studded jawsgaping cavernously at the end of a thirty-foot neck--little,dead-looking eyes glaring at them--a hundred-foot body smashing itsway over the trap-bushes and through tangles of vines anddown-drooping branches.

  "The mate to the thing we killed back there!" Joyce panted. "Run, forGod's sake!"

  Wichter needed no urging. He hadn't an ounce of fear in his spare,small body. But he had an overwhelming desire to get back to Earth anddeliver his message. He was trembling as he raced after Joyce, thirtyfeet to a bound, ducking his head to avoid hitting the thick lavenderfoliage that roofed the trail.

  "One of us must get through!" he panted over and over. "One of us mustmake it!"

  It was speedily apparent that they could never outrun their pursuer.The reaching jaws were only a few yards behind them now.

  "You go," called Joyce, sobbing for breath. He slowed his pacedeliberately.

  "No--you--" Wichter slowed too. In a frenzy, Joyce shoved him alongthe trail.

  "I tell you--"

  He got no further. In front of them, where there had appeared to besolid ground, they suddenly saw a yawning pit. Desperately, they triedto veer aside, but they were too close. Their last long birdlike leapcarried them over the edge. They fell, far down, into a deep chasm,splashing into a shallow pool of water.

  A few clods of earth cascaded after them as the monster above dug itsgreat splay feet into the ground and checked its rush in time to keepfrom falling after them. Then the top of the pit slowly darkened as acovering of some sort slid across it. They were in a prison asprofoundly quiet and utterly black as a tomb.

  * * * * *

  "Dorn," shouted Joyce. "Are you all right?"

  "Yes," came a voice in the near darkness. "And you?"

  "I'm still in one piece as far as I can feel." There was a splashingnoise. He waded toward it and in a moment his outstretched handtouched the professor's shoulder.

  "This is a fine mess," he observed shakily. "We got away from thosetooth-lined jaws, all right, but I'm wondering if we're much betteroff than we would have been if we hadn't escaped."

  "I'm wondering the same thing." Wichter's voice was strained. "Did yousee the way the top of the pit closed above us? That means we're in atrap. And a most ingenious trap it is, too! The roof of it iscamouflaged until it looks exactly like the rest of the trail floor.The water in here is just shallow enough to let large animals breaktheir necks when they fall in and just deep enough to preserve smallanimals--like ourselves--alive. We're in the hands of some sort ofreasoning, intelligent beings, Joyce!"

  "In that case," said Joyce with a shudder, "we'd better do our best toget out of here!"

  But this was found to be impossible. They couldn't climb up out of thepit, and nowhere could they feel any openings in the walls. Onlysmooth, impenetrable stone met their questing fingers.

  "It looks as though we're in to stay," said Joyce finally. "At leastuntil our Zeudian hosts, whatever kind of creatures they may be, comeand take us out. What'll we do then? Sail in and die fighting? Or gopeaceably along with them--assuming we aren't killed at once--on thechance that we can make a break later?"

  "I'd advise the latter," answered Wichter. "There is a small animal onour own planet whose example might be a good one for us to follow.That's the 'possum." He stopped abruptly, and gripped Joyce's arm.

  From the opposite side of the pit came a grating sound. A crack ofgreenish light appeared, low down near the water. This widened jerkilyas though a door were being hoisted by some sort of pulleyarrangement. The walls of the pit began to glow faintly withreflected light.

  "Down," breathed Wichter.

  * * * * *

  Noiselessly they let themselves sink into the water until they werefloating, eyes closed and motionless, on the surface. Playing dead tothe best of their ability, they waited for what might happen next.

  They heard a splashing near the open rock door. The splashing neared them,and high-pitched hissing syllable
s came to their ears--variegated soundsthat resembled excited conversation in some unknown language.

  Joyce felt himself touched by something, and it was all he could do tokeep from shouting aloud and springing to his feet at the contact.

  He'd had no idea, of course, what might be the nature of theircaptors, but he had imagined them as man-like, to some extent atleast. And the touch of his hand, or flipper, or whatever it was,indicated that they were not!

  They were cold-blooded, reptilian things, for the flesh that hadtouched him was cold; as clammy and repulsive as the belly of a deadfish. So repulsive was that flesh that, when he presently felt himselflifted high up and roughly carried, he shuddered in spite of himselfat the contact.

  Instantly the thing that bore him stopped. Joyce held his breath. Hefelt an excruciating, stabbing pain in his arm, after which thejourney through the water was resumed. Stubbornly he kept up hispretence of lifelessness.

  The splashing ceased, and he heard flat wet feet slapping along on dryrock, indicating that they had emerged from the pit. Then he sank intoreal unconsciousness.

  The next thing he knew was that he was lying on smooth, bare rock in aperfect bedlam of noises. Howls and grunts, snuffling coughs andsnarls beat at his ear-drums. It was as though he had fallen into avast cage in which were hundreds of savage, excited animals--animals,however, that in spite of their excitement and ferocity weresurprisingly motionless, for he heard no scraping of claws, or paddingof feet.

  Cautiously he opened his eyes....

  * * * * *

  He was in a large cave, the walls of which were glowing with greenish,phosphorescent light. Strewn about the floor were seemingly deadcarcasses of animals. And what carcasses there were! Blubber-coatedthings that looked like giant tadpoles, gazelle-like creatures with asingle, long slim horn growing from delicate small skulls, four-leggedbeasts and six-legged ones, animals with furry hides and crawlers withscaled coverings--several hundred assorted specimens of the smallerlife of Zeud lay stretched out in seeming lifelessness.

  But they were not dead, these bizarre beasts of another world. Theylived, and were animated with the frenzied fear of trapped things.Joyce could see the tortured heaving of their furred and scaled sidesas they panted with terror. And from their throats issued theoutlandish noises he had heard. They were alive enough--only theyseemed unable to move!

  There was nothing in his range of vision that might conceivably be thebeings that had captured them, so Joyce started to lift his head andlook around at the rest of the cavern. He found that he could notmove. He tried again, and his body was as unresponsive as a log. Infact, he couldn't feel his body at all! In growing terror, heconcentrated all his will on moving his arm. It was as limp as a rag.

  He relaxed, momentarily in the grip of stark, blind panic. He was ashelpless as the howling things around him! He was numbed, completelyparalyzed into immobility!

  The professor's voice--a weak, uncertain voice--sounded from behindhim. "Joyce! Joyce!"

  He found that he could talk, that the paralysis that gripped the restof his muscles had not extended to the vocal cords. "Dorn! Thank Godyou're alive! I couldn't see you, and I thought--"

  "I'm alive, but that's about all," said Wichter. "I--I can't move."

  "Neither can I. We've been drugged in some manner--just as all theother animals in here have been drugged. I must have got my dose inthe pit. I was cut, or stabbed, in the arm."

  * * * * *

  Joyce stopped talking as he suddenly heard steps, like human footstepsyet weirdly different--flap-flapping sounds as though awkward flipperswere slapping along the rock floor toward them. The steps stoppedwithin a few feet of them; then, after what seemed hours, they soundedagain, this time in front of him.

  He opened his eyes, cautiously, barely moving his eyelids, and saw atlast, in every hideous detail, one of the super-beasts that hadcaptured Wichter and himself.

  It was a horrible cartoon of a man, the thing that stood there in thegreenish glow of the cave. Nine or ten feet high, it loomed; hairless,with a faintly iridescent, purplish hide. A thick, cylindrical trunksloped into a neck only a little smaller than the body itself. Set onthis was a bony, ugly head that was split clear across by liplessjaws. There was no nose, only slanted holes like the nostrils of ananimal; and over these were set pale, expressionless, pupil-less eyes.The arms were short and thick and ended in bifurcated lumps of fleshlike swollen hands encased in old-fashioned mittens. The legs werealso grotesquely short, and the feet mere shapeless flaps.

  It was standing near one of the smaller animals, apparently regardingit closely. Observing it himself, Joyce saw that it was moving alittle. As though coming out of a coma, it was raising its bizarrehead and trying to get on its feet.

  Leisurely the two-legged monster bent over it. Two long fangs gleamedin the lipless mouth. These were buried in the neck of the revivingbeast--and instantly it sank back into immobility.

  Having reduced it to helplessness--the monster ate it! The liplessjaws gaped widely. The shapeless hands forced in the head of theanimal. The throat muscles expanded hugely: and in less than a minuteit had swallowed its living prey as a boa-constrictor swallows amonkey.

  * * * * *

  Joyce closed his eyes, feeling weak and nauseated. He didn't open themagain till long after he had heard the last of the awkward, flappingfootsteps.

  "Could you see it?" asked Wichter, who was lying so closely behind himthat he couldn't observe the monstrous Zeudian. "What did it do? Whatwas it like?"

  Joyce told him of the way the creature had fed. "We are evidently intheir provision room," he concluded. "They keep some of their foodalive, it seems.... Well, it's a quick death."

  "Tell me more about the way the other animal moved, just before it waseaten."

  "There isn't much to tell," said Joyce wearily. "It didn't move longafter those fangs were sunk into it."

  "But don't you see!" There was sudden hope in Wichter's voice. "Thatmeans that the effect of the poison, which is apparently injected bythose fangs, wears off after a time. And in that case--"

  "In that case," Joyce interjected, "we'd have only an unknown army often-foot Zeudians, the problem of finding a way to the surface of theground again, and the lack of any kind of weapons, to keep us fromescaping!"

  "We're not quite weaponless, though," the professor whispered back."Over in a corner there's a pile of the long, slender horns thatsprout from the heads of some of these creatures. Evidently theZeudians cut them out, or break them off before eating thatparticular type of animal. They'd be as good as lances, if we couldget hold of them."

  * * * * *

  Joyce said nothing, but hope began to beat in his own breast. He hadnoticed a significant happening during the age-long hours in thecommissary cave. Most of the Zeudians had entered from the directionof the pit. But one had come in through an opening in the oppositeside. And this one had blinked pale eyes as though dazzled from brightsunlight--and was bearing some large, woody looking tubers that seemedto have been freshly uprooted! There was a good chance, thought Joyce,that that opening led to a tunnel up to the world above!

  He drew a deep breath--and felt a dim pain in his back, caused by thecramping position in which he had lain for so long.

  He could have shouted aloud with the thrill of that discovery. Thiswas the first time he had felt his body at all! Did it mean that theeffect of the poison was wearing off--that it wasn't as lastinglyparalyzing to his earthly nerve centers as to those of Zeudiancreatures around them? He flexed the muscles of his leg. The leg moveda fraction of an inch.

  "Dorn!" he called softly, "I can move a little! Can you?"

  "Yes," Wichter answered, "I've been able to wriggle my fingers forseveral minutes. I think I could walk in an hour or two."

  "Then pray for that hour or two. It might mean our escape!" Joyce toldhim of the seldom used entrance that he thou
ght led to the open air."I'm sure it goes to the surface, Dorn. Those woody looking tubers hadbeen freshly picked."

  * * * * *

  Three of the two-legged monsters came in just then. They relapsed intolifeless silence. There was a horrible moment as the three paused overthem longer than any of the others had. Was it obvious that theeffects of the numbing poison was wearing off? Would they be bittenagain--or eaten?

  The Zeudians finally moved on, hissing and clicking to each other.Eventually the cold-blooded things fed, and dragged lethargically outof the cave in the direction of the pit.

  With every passing minute Joyce could feel life pouring back into hisnumbed body. His cramped muscles were in agony now--a pain that gavehim fierce pleasure. At last, risking observation, he lifted his headand then struggled to a sitting position and looked around.

  No Zeudian was in sight. Evidently they were too sure of their poisonglands to post a guard over them. He listened intently, and could hearno dragging footsteps. He turned to Wichter, who had followed hisexample and was sitting up, feebly rubbing his body to restorecirculation.

  "Now's our chance," he whispered. "Stand up and walk a little tosteady your legs, while I go over and get us a couple of those sharphorns. Then we'll see where that entrance of mine goes!"

  He walked to the pile of bones and horns in the corner and selectedtwo of the longest and slimmest of the ivory-like things. Just as hehad rejoined Wichter he heard the sound with which he was now sogrimly familiar--flapping, awkward footsteps. Wildly he signaled theprofessor. They dropped in their tracks, just as the approachingmonster stumped into the cave.

  * * * * *

  For an instant he dared hope that their movement had gone unobserved,but his hope was rudely shattered. He heard a sharp hiss: heard theZeudian flap toward them at double-quick time. Abandoning allpretense, he sprang to his feet just as the thing reached him, itsfangs gleaming wickedly in the greenish light.

  He leaped to the side, going twenty feet or more with the press of hisEarth muscles against the reduced gravity. The creature rushed ontoward the professor. That game little man crouched and awaited itsonslaught. But Joyce had sprung back again before the two could clash.

  He raised the long horn and plunged it into the smooth, purplish back.Again and again he drove it home, as the monster writhed under him. Ithad enormous vitality. Gashed and dripping, it yet struggled on,attempting to encircle Joyce with its stubby arms. Once it succeeded,and he felt his ribs crack as it contracted its powerful body. But afinal stroke finished the savage fight. He got up and, with anincoherent cry to Wichter, raced toward the opening on which theypinned their hopes of reaching the upper air.

  Hissing cries and the thudding of many feet came to them just as theyreached the arched mouth of the passage. But the cries, and theconstant pandemonium of the paralysed animals died behind them as theybounded along the tunnel.

  * * * * *

  They emerged at last into the sunlight they had never expected to seeagain, beside one of the great lavender trees. They paused an instantto try to get their bearings.

  "This way," panted Joyce as he saw, on a hard-packed path ahead ofthem, one of the trail-marks he had blazed.

  Down the trail they raced, toward their space shell. Fortunately theymet none of the tremendous animals that infested the jungles; andtheir journey to the clearing in which the shell was lying wasaccomplished without accident.

  "We're safe now," gasped Wichter, as they came in sight of the barelava patch. "We can outrun them five feet to their one!"

  They burst into the clearing--and halted abruptly. Surrounding theshell, stumping curiously about it and touching it with theirshapeless hands, were dozens of the Zeudians.

  "My God!" groaned Joyce. "There must be at least a hundred of them!We're lost for certain now!"

  They stared with hopeless longing at the vehicle that, if only theycould reach it, could carry them back to Earth. Then they turned toeach other and clasped hands, without a word. The same thought was inthe mind of each--to rush at the swarming monsters and fight till theywere killed. There was absolutely no chance of winning through to theshell, but it was infinitely better to die fighting than be swallowedalive.

  * * * * *

  So engrossed were the Zeudians by the strange thing that had falleninto their province, that Joyce and Wichter got within a hundred feetof them before they turned their pale eyes in their direction. Then,baring their fangs, they streamed toward the Earth men, just as thepursuing Zeudians entered the clearing from the jungle trail.

  The two prepared to die as effectively as possible. Each grasped hislace-like horn tightly. The professor mechanically adjusted hisglasses more firmly on his nose....

  With his move, the narrowing circle of Zeudians halted. A violentclamor broke out among them. They glared at the two, but made nofurther step toward them.

  "What in the world--" began Wichter bewilderedly.

  "Your glasses!" Joyce shouted, gripping his shoulder. "When you movedthem, they all stopped! They must be afraid of them, somehow. Takethem clear off and see what happens."

  Wichter removed his spectacles, and swung them in his hand, peeringnear-sightedly at the crowding Zeudians.

  Their reaction to his simple move was remarkable! Hisses ofconsternation came from their lipless mouths. They faced each otheruneasily, waving their stubby arms and covering their own eyes asthough suddenly afraid they would lose them.

  Taking advantage of their indecision, Joyce and Wichter walked boldlytoward them. They moved aside, forming a reluctant lane. Some of theZeudians in the rear shoved to close in on them, but the ones in frontheld them back. It wasn't until the two were nearly through that thelane began to straggle into a threatening circle around them again.The Zeudians were evidently becoming reassured by the fact thatWichter continued to see all right in spite of the little strangecreature's alarming act of removing his eyes.

  "Do it again," breathed Joyce, perspiration beading his forehead asthe giants moved closed, their fangs tentatively bared for the numbingpoison stroke.

  * * * * *

  Wichter popped his glasses on, then jerked them off with a cry, asthough he were suffering intensely. Once more the Zeudians falteredand drew back, feeling at their own eyes.

  "Run!" cried Joyce. And they raced for the haven of the shell.

  The Zeudians swarmed after them, snarling and hissing. Barely ahead ofthe nearest, Joyce and Wichter dove into the open panel. They slammedit closed just as a powerful, stubby arm reached after them. There wasa screaming hiss, and a cold, cartilagenous lump of flesh dropped tothe floor of the shell--half the monster's hand, sheared off betweenthe sharp edge of the door and the metal hull.

  Joyce threw in the generator switch. With a soft roar the water-motorexploded into action, sending the shell far into the sky.

  "When we return," said Joyce, adding a final thousand miles an hour totheir speed before they should fly free of the atmosphere of Zeud, "Ithink we'd better come at the head of an army, equipped with air-gunsand explosive bombs."

  "And with glasses," added the professor, taking off his spectacles andgazing at them as though seeing them for the first time.