The Stars Are Ours! a-1 Page 9

  “The ship’s going to blast off!” So that was it! He was now one of an expendable rear guard, left to hold the fort while the star ship won free. Dard studied the rifle he held, with eyes which did not see either the metal of barrel or wood of stock.

  Well, he told himself savagely, wasn’t this just what he knew was going to happen-ever since that moment when Kimber had admitted with his silence that all those in the Cleft would not go out into space?

  “Hey!” a hand joggling his elbow snapped his attention back to the job at hand. “See-down there—”

  He followed the line set by that dirty finger. Something moved around the wreckage of the ’copter farthest from the barrier-a black tube. Dard frowned as he studied its out- line. The tube was being slued around to face the barrier. That was no rifle-too large. It was no form of gun he had seen before.

  “Santee! Hey, Santee!” his companion shouted. “They’re bringing up a burper!”

  A man scrambled up and Dard was shoved painfully against a tree branch as the black beard took his place.

  “You’re right-damn it! I didn’t think they had any of those left! Well, we’ve got to stay as long as we can. I’ll pass the word to the boys. In the meantime try a little ricochet work. Might pick off one or two of that beauty’s crew. If we’re lucky. Which I’m beginning to think now we certainly ain’t!”

  He crawled out of the hollow and Dard got thankfully back into station. His companion patted down a ridge of dirt on which to rest the barrel of his rifle. Dard saw that he was aiming, not at the ugly black muzzle of the burper, but at the rock wail behind the gun. So-that was what Santee meant by ricochet work! Fire at the rock wall and hope that the bullets would be deflected back against the men serving the burper. Neat-if it could be done. Dard lined the sights of his own weapon to cover what he hoped was the proper point. Others had the same idea. The shots came in a ragged volley. And the trick worked, for with a scream a man reeled out and fell.

  “Why don’t they use that green gas?” asked Dard, remembering his own introduction to the fighting methods of the Cleft dwellers.

  “How do you think we crashed those ’copters, kid? And the boys got a couple more machines the same way out by the river. Only something went wrong when they triggered the blast to seal off the valley this way. And the gas gun- with a couple of very good guys-came down with this-underneath.

  For a space the burper did not move. Perhaps the defenders had wiped out its crew with the ricochet volley. Just as they were beginning to hope that this was so, the black muzzle, moving with the ponderous slowness of some big animal, eased back into concealment. Dard’s partner watched this maneuver sourly.

  “Cookin’ up something else now. They must have had a guy with brains come in to run things. And if that’s so, we’re not going to have it so good. Yahh!” His voice arose sharply.

  But Dard needed no warning. He, too, had seen that black sphere rising in a lazy course straight at the barrier.

  “Head down, kid! Head ”

  Dard burrowed into the side of the hollow, his face scratching across the frozen dirt, his hunched shoulders and arms protecting his head. The explosion rocked the ground and was followed by a scream and several moans. Dazed, the boy shook himself free of loose earth and snow.

  To the left there was a sizeable gap in the barrier. With a white patch halfway down-not snow but a hand buried to the wrist in the slide the explosion had ripped down.

  “Dan- and Red-and Loften got it. Nice bag for Pax,” his fellow sniper muttered. “Now was that just a lucky shot -or do they have our range?”

  The forces of Pax had the range. A second ragged tear was sliced across the rock and earth dam. Before the stones stopped rattling down, Dard was shaken out of his crouch roughly.

  “If you ain’t dead, kid, come on! Santee’s passed the word to fall back, to the next turn of the canyon. On the double, because we’re going to blow again, and if you get caught on this side-it’s your skin!”

  Dard tumbled down the barrier behind his guide, falling once and scraping both sleeve and skin from his forearm in the process. Seconds later eight defenders, their sides heaving, their dirty faces haunted and drawn, gathered around Santee and were waved on down the canyon. Santee himself stood counting off seconds aloud. At “ten” he plunged his hand down on the black box beside him.

  There was a dull rumble, less noise than the burper shots had made. Dard watched in a sort of fascinated horror as the whole opposite cliff moved majestically outward into space before it crashed down to make a second and taller wall. The stones and earth had not ceased to roll before Santee was leading his force up it to dig in and face the enemy. Once more Dard lay in wait with a rifle, this time alone.

  The burper sounded regularly, systematically pounding down the first barrier. But, save for that, there was no sign of Pax activity. And how long would it be before they brought the burper up to this assault? Then would the few left retreat again and blow down another section of the mountain?

  There was a flicker of movement down at the first barrier, and it was answered by a shot from the defense. A second later more shots, all down by the battered dam. Dard guessed what had happened, wounded and left behind, one of the Cleft dwellers was firing his last round to delay the victors. The flurry of fire was only a prelude to what they were waiting to see-the black snub nose of the burper rising above the rubble.

  8. COLD SLEEP

  UNABLE TO SEE the burper’s crew the defenders had only the narrowest and most impossible mark to shoot at-the gun’s muzzle. Perhaps that action was only to occupy their minds, by concentrating on that menace, by seeing or thinking of nothing else, they could, each and everyone, forget for a space that the ship they fought for could only take a numbered few-that when it blasted off, some of the Cleft would still be here.

  Dessie! Dard twisted in the hole he had hollowed with his body. Surely Dessie would be aboard. There were so few children-so few women-Dessie would be an asset!

  He tried to think only of a shadow he thought he saw move then. Or a shadow he wanted to believe had moved as he snapped a shot at it. When this battle had begun, or rather when he had come on the scene-it had been mid- morning. Once during the day he had choked down some dry food which had been passed along, taking sips from a shared canteen. Now the dusk of evening lengthened the patches of gloom. Under the cover of the dark the burper would rumble up to them, to gnaw away at this second barrier. And the defenders would withdraw-to delay and delay.

  But maybe the end of that battle would not wait upon nightfall after all. The familiar sound of blades beating the air was a warning which reached them before they saw the ’copter skimming up, its undercarriage scraping the top of their first wall.

  Dard watched it resignedly, too apathetic to duck when its occupants hurled grenades. He crouched unmoving as the machine climbed for altitude. The explosion caught him in his hollow a second later. There was the sense of being torn out of hiding, of being flung free. Then he was on his hands and knees, creeping through a strangely silent world of rolling stones and sliding earth.

  Some feet away a man struggled to free his legs from a mound of earth. He clawed at his covering with a single hand, the other, welling red, lay at a queer twisted angle. Dard crept over and the man stared at him wildly, mouthing words Dard could not hear through the buzzing which filled his head. He dug with torn fingers into the mass which held the other prisoner.

  Another figure loomed over them and Dard was shoved aside. The huge Santee knelt, scooping away soil and rock, until together they were able to pull the injured man free. Dard, his shaking head still ringing with noise of its own, helped to lift the limp body and carry it back into the inner valley of the star ship. Santee stumbled and brought all three of them down. Dard got to his knees and turned his head carefully to blink at what he saw behind him.

  Those in the ’copter had not ripped apart the barrier as they had planned. The grenades had jarred some hidden fault bringing do
wn more tons of soil and rocks. Anyone viewing that spot now would never believe that there had once been an opening there.

  Of the defenders who had held that barricade only the three of them remained-he, Santee, and the wounded man they had dragged with them.

  Dard wondered if he had been deafened by the explosion. The roaring in his head, which affected his balance when he tried to walk, had no connection with normal sound and he could hear nothing Santee was saying. He ran his hands aimlessly across his bruised and aching ribs, content to remain where he was.

  But the enemy was not satisfied to leave them alone. Spurts of dust stung up from the rock wall. Dard stared at them a second or two before Santee’s heavy fist sent him sprawling, and he realized that the three of them were cut off in a pocket while snipers in the ’copter tried to pick them off. This was the end-but to think that brought him no sensation of fear. It was enough to just lie still and wait.

  He brought his hands up to support his buzzing head. Then someone tugged roughly at his belt, rolling him over. Dard opened his eyes to see Santee taking the stun gun from him. Out of that thick mat of black hair which masked most of the man’s face his teeth showed in a white snarl of rage.

  But there were only two charges in the stun gun. Maybe he was able to say that aloud, for Santee glanced at him and then examined the clip. Two shots from a stun gun wasn’t going to bring down a ’copter. The humor of that pricked him and he laughed quietly to himself. A stun gun against a ’copter!

  Santee was up on his knees behind the rock he had chosen for protection, his head straining back on his thick neck as he watched the movements of the ’copter.

  What happened next might have astonished Dard earlier, but now he was past all amazement. The ’copter, making a wide turn, smashed into some invisible barrier in the air. Through the twilight they saw it literally bounce back, as if some giant hand had slapped at an annoying insect. Then, broken as the insect would have been, it came tumbling down. Two of its passengers jumped and floated gracefully through the air, supported by some means Dard could not identify. Santee scrambled to his feet and took careful aim with the stun gun.

  He picked off the nearer. But a second shot missed the other. And the big man ducked only just in time to escape the return fire of the enemy. Making contact with the ground the Peaceman dodged behind the crumpled fuselage of the ’copter. Why didn’t he just walk across and finish them off, Dard speculated fretfully? Why draw out the process? It was getting darker-darker. He pawed at his eyes, was his sight as well as his hearing going to fail him?

  But, no, he could still see Santee who had gone down on his belly and was now wriggling around the rocks, proceeding worm-fashion along a finger of the slide toward the ’copter. Though how he expected to attack the man hidden there-with his bare hands and an empty stun gun-against a rifle!

  Dard’s detachment persisted. He watched the action in which he was not involved critically. Wanting to see how it would end he pulled himself up to follow Santee’s slow progress. When the crawler disappeared from his range of vision Dard was irritated. Suppose the man waiting over there was to believe that they were trying to escape down valley-wouldn’t all his attention be for that direction- not at Santee?

  Dard felt about him in the gloom, hunting stones of a suitable size, weighing and discarding until he held one larger than both his fists. Two more he lined up before him. With all the strength he could muster he sent the first and largest hurtling down the valley. A flash of fire answered its landing.

  The second and third rock followed at intervals. Each time he saw the mark of answering shots. His hearing was coming back-he caught the faint echo of the last one. New stones were found and sent after the others-to keep up the illusion of escape. But now there was no shot to reply. Had Santee reached that sniper?

  The boy sprawled back against the wall of the cleft and waited, for what he did not altogether know. Santee’s return? Or the star ship’s blast off? Had they brought time enough for the frenzied workers back there? Was tonight going to see Kimber setting that course they had won from the Voice, piloting the ship out into space before he, too, went under the influence of Lars’ drug and began the sleep from which there might be no awakening? But if the voyagers did awaken! Dard drew a deep breath and for a moment he forgot everything-his own aching, punished body, the rocky trap which enclosed him, the lack of future-he forgot all these in a dream of what might lie beyond the sky which he now searched for the first wink of starlight. Another world-another sun-a fresh start!

  He started as a shape loomed out of the dark to cut off the sight of that star he had just discovered. Fingers clawed painfully into his shoulders bringing him up to his feet. Then, mainly by Santee’s brute force of body and will, they picked up the rescued man and started in a drunken stagger back into the valley. Dard forgot his dream, he needed all his strength to keep his feet, to go as Santee drove him.

  They made a half-turn to avoid a boulder and came to a stop as lights blinded them. The ship was surrounded by a circle of blazing flares. The fury of industry which had boiled about it during the loading had stemmed to a mere trickle. Dard could see no women at all and most of the men were gone also. The few who remained in sight were passing boxes up a ramp. Soon that would be done, and then those down there would enter that silvery shape. The hatch would close, the ship would rise on fire.

  Muted by the pain in his head he heard the booming shout of a deep voice. Below, the loaders stopped work. Grouped together they faced the survivors of the barrier battle. Santee called again, and that group broke apart as the men ran up to them.

  Dard sat down beside the injured man, his legs giving way under him. With detachment he watched the coming of that other party. One man had his shirt badly torn across the shoulder-would he land on another world across the void of space with that tatter still fluttering? The problem had some interest.

  Now a circle of legs walled the boy in, boots spurted snow in his face. He was brought to his feet, arms about his shoulders, led along to the ship. But that wasn’t right, he thought mistily. Kimber had said not room enough-he was one of the expendables-

  But he could find no words to argue with those who helped him along, not even when he was pushed up that ramp into the ship. Kordov stood in the hatch door waving them ahead with an imperious arm. Then Dard found himself in a tiny room and a cup of milky liquid was thrust against his lips and held there until he docilely swallowed its contents to the last tasteless drop. When that was in him he was lowered onto a folding seat pulled down from the starkly bare metal wall and left to hold his spinning head in his hands.

  “Yeah- the force field’s still holdin’—”

  “Won’t be able to plow through that last slide, eh?”

  “Not with anything they’ve got now.”

  Words, a lot of words, passing back and forth across him. Sometimes for a second or two they made good sense, then meaning faded again.

  “Can pretty well take your own time now—” Was that rumble from Santee?

  And that quick, crisp voice cutting in, “What about the kid?”

  “Him? He’s some scrapper. Got a head on him, too. Just shaken up a lot when that last blowup hit us, but he’s still in one piece.”

  Kimber! That had been Kimber asking about him. But Dard hadn’t strength left to raise his head and look for the pilot.

  “We’ll patch up Tremont first and send him under. You two will have to wait a while. Give them the soup and that first powder, Lui—”

  Again Dard was given a drink-this time of hot steamy stuff which carried the flavor of rich meat. After it there was a capsule to be swallowed.

  Bruises and aches-when he moved his body he was just one huge ache. But he straightened up and tried to take an interest in his surroundings. Santee, his shirt a few rags about his thick hairy shoulders and arms, squatted on another pull-down seat directly across from Dard. Along the passage outside there was a constant coming and going. Scraps of conve
rsation reached them, most of which he did not understand.

  “Feelin’ better, kid?” the big man asked.

  Dard answered that muffled question with a nod and then wished that he hadn’t moved his head. “Are we going along?” he shaped the words with difficulty Santee’s beard wagged as he roared with laughter. “Like to see ’em throw us off ship now! What made you think we weren’t, kid?”

  “No room- Kimber said.”

  Laughter faded from the eyes of the man opposite him.

  “Might not have been, kid. Only a lot of good men died back there puttin’ such a plug in the valley that these buggers aren’t goin’ to git in ’til too late. Since the warp’s still workin’, flyin’ won’t bring ’em neither. So we ain’t needed out there no more. An’ maybe some good fightin’ men will be needed where this old girl’s headed. So in we come, an’ they’re gonna pack us away with the rest of the cargo. Ain’t that so, Doc?” he ended by demanding of the tall young man who had just entered.

  The newcomer’s parrot crest of blond hair stood up from his scalp in a twist like the stem of a pear and his wide eyes glowed with enthusiasm.

  “You’re young Nordis, aren’t you?” he demanded of Dard, ignoring Santee. “I wish I could have known your brother! He-what he did-! I wouldn’t have believed such results possible if I hadn’t seen the formula! Hibernation and freezing-his formula combined with Tas’s biological experiments! Why, we’ve even put three of Hammond’s calves under-what grass they’ll graze on before they die! And it’s all due to Lars Nordis!”

  Dard was too tired to show much interest in that. He wanted to go to sleep to forget everything and everybody.

  "To sleep, perchance to dream"- the old words shaped pat- terns for him. Only-not to dream would be better now. Did one dream in space-and what queer dreams haunted men lying in slumber between worlds? Dard mentally shook himself-there was something important-something he had to ask before he dared let sleep come.