Ganymedean Life

Slow, hard, and disheartening as the work had been at first, Stevens had never

slackened his pace, and after a time, as his facilities increased, the exasperating

setbacks decreased in number and severity and his progress became faster and faster.

Large as the Forlorn Hope was, space was soon at a premium, for their peculiarly-

shaped craft became a veritable factory, housing a variety of machinery and equipment

unknown in any single Earthly industrial plant. Nothing was ornamental— everything

was stripped to its barest fundamental necessities—but every working part functioned

with a smooth precision to delight the senses of any good mechanic.

     In a cavern under the falls was the great turbine, to be full-fed by the crude but

tight penstock which clung to the wall of the gorge, angling up to the brink of that

stupendous cataract. Bedded down upon solid rock there was a high-tension alternator

capable of absorbing the entire output of the mighty turbine. This turbo-alternator was

connected to a set of converters from which the energy would flow along three great

copper cables—the receptors of the lifeboats being altogether too small to carry the

load—to the now completely exhausted accumulators of the Forlorn Hope. All high-

tension apparatus was shielded and grounded, so that no stray impulses could reveal to

the possible detectors of the Jovians the presence of this foreign power plant. Housings,

frames, spiders, every stationary part, were rough, crude, and massive; but bearings,

shafts, armatures, all moving parts, were of a polished and finished accuracy and

balance that promised months and years of trouble-free operation. Everything ready for

the test, Stevens took off his frayed and torn leather coveralls and moccasins—he never

walked down—and climbed nimbly up the penstock. Opening the head-gate, he poised

sharply upon its extremity and took off in a perfect swan-dive; floating unconcernedly

downward toward that boiling maelstrom two hundred feet below. He struck the water

with a sharp, smooth "slup!" and raced ashore, seizing his suit as he ran toward the

turbo-alternator. It was running smoothly, and, knowing that everything was tight at the

receiving end, he lingered about the power plant until he was assured that nothing

would go wrong and that his home-distilled lubricating oil and grease would keep those

massive bearings cool.

     Hunger assailed him, and glancing at the sun he noted that it was well past

dinner-time.

     "Wow!" he exclaimed aloud. "The boss just loves to wait meals—she'll burn me

up for this!"

     He ran lightly toward "home", eager to tell his sweetheart that the long-awaited

moment had arrived—that power was now flowing into their accumulators.

     "Hi, Diana of the silver bow!" he called. "How come you no blow the dinner bell?

Power's on—come give it a look!"

     There was no answer to his hail, and Stevens paused in shocked amazement.

He knew that never of her own volition would she be out so late—Nadia was gone! A

rapid tour of inspection quickly confirmed that which he already knew only too well.

Forgotten was his hunger, forgotten the power plant, forgotten everything except the

fact that his Nadia, the buoyant spirit in whom centered his Universe, was lost or . . . he

could not complete the thought, even to himself.

     Swiftly he came to a decision and threw off his suit, revealing the body of a

Hercules—a body ready for any demand he could put upon it. Always in hard training,

months of grinding physical labor and of heavy eating had built him up to a point at

which he would scarcely have recognized himself, could he have glanced into a mirror.

Mighty but pliable muscles writhed and swelled under his clear skin as he darted here

and there, selecting equipment for what lay ahead of him. He donned the heavily

armored space-suit which they had prepared months before, while they were still

suspicious of possible attack. It was covered with heavy steel at every point, and the

lenses of the helmet, already of unbreakable glass, had been re-enforced with thick

steel bars. Tanks and valves supplied air at normal pressure, so that his powerful body

could function at full efficiency, not handicapped by the lighter atmosphere of

Ganymede. The sleeves terminated in steel-protected rubber wristlets which left his

hands free, yet sheltered from attack—wristlets tight enough to maintain the difference

in pressure, yet not tight enough to cut off the circulation. He took up his mighty war-

bow and the full quiver of heavy arrows—full-feathered and pointed with savagely

barbed, tearing heads of forged steel—and slipped into their sheaths the long and

heavy razor-sharp sword and the double-edged dirk, which, he had made and ground

long since for he knew not what emergency and whose bell-shaped hilts of steel further

protected his hands and wrists. Thus equipped, he had approximately his normal

Earthly weight; a fact which would operate to his advantage, rather than otherwise, in

case of possible combat. With one last look around the Forlorn Hope, whose every

fitting shrieked aloud to him of the beloved mistress who was gone, he filled a container

with water and cooked food and opened the door.

                         *  *  *  *  *

"It won't be long now, now it won't be long," Nadia caroled happily, buckling on her pack

straps and taking up bow and arrows for her daily hunt. "I never thought that he could

do it, but what it takes to do things he's got lots of", she continued to improvise the song

as she left the Hope, with its multitudinous devices whose very variety was a never-

failing delight to her; showing as it did the sheer ability of the man whose brain and

hands had almost finished a next-to-impossible task.

     Through the canyon and up a well-worn trail she climbed, and soon came out

upon the sparsely timbered bench that was her hunting grounds. Upon this day,

however, she was full of happy anticipation and her mind was everywhere except upon

her work. She was thinking of Stevens, of their love, of the power which he might turn

on that very day, and of the possible rescue for which she had hitherto scarcely dared to

hope. Thus it was that she walked miles beyond her usual limits without having loosed

an arrow, and she was surprised when she glanced up at the sun to see that half the

morning was gone and that she was almost to the foothills, beyond which rose a

towering range of mountains.

     "Snap out of it, girl!" she reprimanded herself. "Go on wool-gathering like this and

your man'll go hungry— and he'll break you right off at the ankles!" She became again

the huntress, and soon saw an animal browsing steadily along the base of a hill. It was

a six-legged, deer-like creature, much larger than anything she had as yet seen. But it

was meat and her time was short, therefore she crept within range and loosed an arrow

with the full power of her hunting bow. Unfamiliar as she was with the anatomy of the

peculiar creature, the arrow did not kill. The "hex-aped", as she instantly named it, sped

away and she leaped after it. She, like her companion, had developed amazingly in

musculature, and few indeed were the denizens of Ganymede who could equal her

speed .upon that small globe, with its feeble gravitational force.

     Up the foothills it darted. Beyond the hills and deep into a valley between two

towering peaks the chase continued before Nadia's third arrow brought the animal

down. Bending over the game, she became conscious of a strange but wonderfully

sweet perfume and glanced up, to see something which she certainly had not noticed

when the hexaped had fallen. It was an enormous flower, at least a foot in diameter and

indescribably beautiful in its crimson and golden splendor. Almost level with her head

the gorgeous blossom waved upon its heavy stem; based by a massive cluster of

enormous, smooth, dark green leaves. Entranced by this unexpected and marvelous

floral display, Nadia breathed deeply of the inviting fragrance — and collapsed

senseless upon the ground. Thereupon the weird plant moved over toward her, and the

thick leaves began to enfold her knees. This carnivorous thing, however, did not like the

heavy cloth of her suit and turned to the hexaped. It thrust several of its leaves into the

wounds upon the carcass and fed, while two other leaves rasped together, sending out

a piercing call.

     In answer to the sound the underbrush crackled, and through it and upon the

scene there crashed a vegetable-animal nightmare—the parent of the relatively tiny

thing whose perfume had disabled the girl.

     Its huge and gorgeous blossom was supported by a long, flexible, writhing stem,

and its base was composed of many and highly specialized leaves. There were saws

and spears and mighty, but sinuous tendrils; there were slender shoots which seemed

to possess some sense of perception; there was the massive tractor base composed of

extensible leaves which by their contraction and expansion propelled the mass along

the ground. Parent and child fell upon the hexaped, and soon bones and hair were all

that remained. The slender shoots then wandered about the unconscious girl in her

strange covering, and as a couple of powerful tendrils coiled about her and raised her

into the air over the monstrous base of the thing its rudimentary brain could almost be

perceived working as it sluggishly realized that, now full fed, it should carry this other

victim along, to feed its other offspring when they should return to its side.

                         *  *  *  *  *

Barely outside the door of the Forlorn Hope Stevens whirled about with a bitter

imprecation. He had already lost time needlessly—with a lookout plate he could cover

more ground in ten minutes than he could cover afoot in a week. He flipped on the

power and shot the violet beam out over the plateau to the district where he knew Nadia

was wont to hunt. Not finding her there, he swung the beam in an ever widening circle

around that district. Finally he saw a few freshly broken twigs, and scanned the scene

with care. He soon found the trail of fresh blood which marked the path of the flight of

the hexaped, and with the peculiar maneuverability of the device he was using it was

not long until he was studying the scene where the encounter had taken place. He

gasped when he saw the bones and perceived three of Nadia's arrows, but soon saw

that the skeleton was not human and was reassured. Casting about in every direction,

he found Nadia's bow, and saw a peculiar, freshly trampled path leading from the kill,

past the bow, and down the valley. He could not understand the spoor, but it was easily

followed, and he shot the beam along it at headlong speed until he came up with the

monstrous creature that was making it—until he saw what burden that organism was

carrying.

     He leaped to the controls of the lifeboat, then dropped his hand. While the stream

of power now flowing was ample to operate the lookout plates, yet it would be many

hours before the accumulator cells would be in condition to drive the craft even that

short distance.

     "It'll take an hour to get there—here's hoping I can check in on time", he

muttered, as he took careful note of the location and direction of the creature's trail and

set off at a fast jog-trot.

     The carnivorous flower's first warning that all was not well was received when

Stevens' steel-shod feet landed squarely upon its base and one sweeping cut of his

sword lopped off the malignant blossom and severed the two tendrils that still held the

unconscious Nadia. With a quick heave of his shoulder he tossed her lightly backward

into the smooth-beaten track the creature had made and tried to leap away—but the

instant he had consumed in rescuing the girl had been enough for the thing to seize

him, and he found himself battling for his very life. No soft-leaved infant this, but a full-

grown monster, well equipped with mighty weapons of offense and defense. Well it was

for the struggling man that he was encased in armor steel as those saw-edged, hard-

spiked leaves drove against him with crushing force; well it was for him that he had his

own independent air supply, so that that deadly perfume eddied ineffective about his

helmeted head! Hard and fiercely driven as those terrible thorns were, they could do no

more than dent his heavy armor. His powerful left arm, driving the double-razor-edged

dirk in short, resistless arcs, managed to keep the snaky tendrils from coiling about his

right arm, which was wielding the heavy, trenchant sword. Every time that mighty blade

descended it cleaved its length through snapping spikes and impotently grinding leaves;

but more than once a nailing tendril coiled about his neck armor and held his helmet

immovable as though in a vise, while those frightful, grinding saws sought to rip their

way through the glass to the living creature inside the peculiar metal housing. Dirk and

saber and magnificent physique finally triumphed, but it was not until leaf had been

literally severed from every other leaf that the outlandish organism gave up the ghost.

     Nadia had been tossed out into pure air, beyond the zone of the stupefying

perfume, and she recovered her senses in time to see the finish of the battle. Stevens,

assured that his foe was hors de combat, turned toward the spot where he had thrown

Nadia's body. He saw that she was unharmed, and sprang toward her in relief. He was

surprised beyond measure, however, to see her run away at a pace he could not hope

to equal, encumbered as he was; motioning frantically at him the while to keep away

from her. He stopped, astounded, and started to unscrew his helmet, whereupon she

dashed back toward him, signaling him emphatically to leave his armor exactly as it

was. He stood still and stared at her, an exasperated question large upon his face, until

she made clear to him that he was to follow her at a safe distance, then she set off at a

rapid walk. She led him back to where the hexaped had fallen, where she retrieved her

bow and arrows; then, keeping a sharp lookout upon all sides, she went on to a small

stream of water. She made the dumbfounded man go out into the middle of the creek

and lie down and roll over in the water, approaching him and sniffing cautiously between

immersions. She made him continue the bathing until she could detect not even the

slightest trace of the sweet, but noxious fragrance of that peculiarly terrible form of

Ganymedean life. Only then did she allow him to remove his helmet, so that she could

give him the greeting for which they both had longed, and tell him what it was all about.

     "So that's it!" he exclaimed, still holding her tightly in his iron embrace. "Great

balls of fire! I thought maybe you were still a little cuckoo. Anaesthetic perfume, huh?

Hot stuff, I'd say—no wonder you bit—I would, too. It's lucky for us I was air-tight—we'd

both be fee . . . "

     "Clam it!" she interrupted him sharply. "Forget it— don't ever even think of it!"

     "All x, ace. It's out like the well-known light. What to do? It's getting darker than a

hat, and we're a long ways from home. Don't know whether I could find my way back in

the dark or not; and just between you and me, I'm not particularly keen on night travel in

these parts after what's just happened. Are you?"

     "Anything else but," she assured him, fervently. I'd lots rather stay hungry until

tomorrow."

     "No need of that—I've brought along enough supper for both of us. I'm hungry as

a wolf, too, now that I have time to think of it. We'll eat and den up somewhere—or

climb a tree. Those wampuses probably can't climb trees!"

     "There's a nice little cave back there about a hundred meters. We'll pretend it's

the Ritz," and they soon had a merry fire blazing in front of the retreat. There they ate of

the provisions Stevens had brought. Then, while the man rolled up boulders before the

narrow entrance of the cave, Nadia gathered leaves and made a soft bed upon its

warm, dry floor.

     "Good night, lover," and the girl, untroubled and secure now that Stevens was at

her side, was almost instantly asleep; but the man was not sleepy. He thought of the

power plant, even now sending its terrific stream of energy into his accumulators. He

thought of the ultra-radio—where could he get all the materials needed? He thought of

his friends, wondering whether or not they would receive his message. He thought of

Breckenridge and the other human beings who had been aboard the Arcturus,

wondering poignantly as to their fate. He thought of Newton and of his own people, who

had certainly given them up for dead long since.

     But above all he thought of the beautiful, steel-true companion lying there asleep

at his mailed feet, and he gazed down at her, his heart in his eyes. The firelight shone

through the chinks Between the boulders, casting a flickering ruddy light throughout the

little cavern. Nadia lay there, her head pillowed upon one strong, brown little hand. Her

lips were red and sweetly curved, her cheek was smooth and firm as so much brown

velvet. She was literally aglow with sheer beauty and with perfect health; and the man

reflected, as he studied her hungrily, that this wild life certainly had agreed with

her—she was becoming more surpassingly beautiful with every passing day.

     "You little trump—you wonderful, lovely, square little brick!" he breathed silently,

and bent over to touch her cheek lightly with his lips. Slight as the caress was, it

disturbed her, and even in her sleep her subconscious mind sent out an exploring hand,

to touch her Steve and thus be reassured. He pressed her hand and she settled back

comfortably, with a long, deep breath; and he stretched his ironclad length beside her

and closed his eyes, firmly resolved not to waste a minute of this wonderful night in

sleep.

     When he opened them an instant later it was broad daylight, the boulders had

been rolled away, the fragrance of roasting meat permeated the atmosphere, and Nadia

was making a deafening clamor, beating his steel breastplate lustily with the flat of his

huge saber.

     "Daylight in the swamp, you sleeper!" she exclaimed. "Roll out or roll up! Come

and get it, before I throw it away!"

     "I must've been kind of tired," he said sheepishly, when he saw that she had shot

a bird and had cooked breakfast for them both while he had been buried in oblivion.

     "Peculiar, too, isn't it?" Nadia asked, pointedly. "You only did about ten day's

work yesterday in ten minutes, swinging this frightful snickersnee of yours. Why, you

played with it ~as though it were a knitting-needle, and when I wanted to wake you up

with it, I could hardly lift it."

     "Thought you didn't want that subject ever mentioned?" he tried to steer the talk

away from his prowess with the broad-sword.

     "That was yesterday," airily. "Besides, I don't mind talking about you—it's thinking

about us being—you know

     —that I can't stand."

     "All x, ace. I get you—right. Let's eat."

     Breakfast over, they started down the valley, Stevens carrying his helmet under

his arm. Hardly had they started, however, than Nadia's keen eyes saw a movement

through the trees, and she stopped and pointed. Stevens looked once, then hand in

hand they dashed back to their cave.

     "We'll pile up some of the boulders and you lie low," he instructed her as he

screwed on his helmet. She snapped open his face-plate.

     "But what about you ? Aren't you coming in, too ?" she demanded.

     "Can't—they'd surround us and starve us out. I'm safe in this armor—thank

Heaven we made it as solid as we did —and I'll fight 'em in the open. I'll show 'em what

the bear did to the buckwheat!"

     "All x, I guess, but I wish I had my armor, too," she mourned as he snapped shut

his plate and walled her into the cave with the same great rocks he had used the night

before. Then, Nadia safe from attack, he drew his quiver of war-arrows into position

over his shoulder, placed one at the ready in his bow, and turned to face the horde of

things rushing up the valley toward him. Wild animals he had supposed them, but as he

stood firm and raised his weapon shrill whistles sounded in the throng, and he gasped

as he realized that those frightful creatures must be intelligent beings, for not only did

they signal to each other, but he saw that they were armed with bows and arrows,

spears, and slings!

     Six-limbed creatures they were, of a purplish-red color, with huge, tricornigerous

heads and with staring, green, phosphorescent eyes. Two of the six limbs were always

legs, two always arms; the intermediate two, due to a mid-section jointing of the six-foot-

long, almost cylindrical body, could be used at will as either legs or arms. Now, out of

range, as they supposed, they halted and gathered about one who was apparently their

leader; some standing erect and waving four hands while shaking their horns savagely

in Stevens' direction, others trotting around on four legs, busily gathering stones of

suitable size for their vicious slings.

     Too far away to use their own weapons and facing only one small four-limbed

creature, they considered their game already in the bag, but they had no

comprehension of Earthly muscles, nor any understanding of the power and range of a

hundred-pound bow driving a steel-headed war arrow. Thus, while they were arguing

Stevens took the offensive, and a cruelly barbed steel war-head tore completely through

the body of their leader and mortally wounded the creature next beyond him. Though

surprised, they were not to be frightened off, but with wild, shrill screams rushed to the

attack. Stevens had no ammunition to waste, and every, time that mighty bow twanged

a yard-long arrow transfixed at least one of the red horde—and a body through which

had torn one of those ghastly, hand-forged arrow-heads was of very little use thereafter.

Accurately-sped arrows splintered harmlessly against the re-enforced windows of his

helmet and against the steel guards protecting his hands. He was almost deafened by

the din as the stone missiles of the slingers rebounded from his reverberating shell of

steel, but he fired carefully, steadily, and powerfully until his last arrow had been loosed.

Then, the wicked dirk in his left hand and the long and heavy saber weaving a circular

path of brilliance in the sun, he stepped forward a couple of paces to meet the

attackers. For a few moments nothing could stand before that fiercely driven blade —

severed heads, limbs, and fragments of torsos literally filled the air, but sheer weight of

numbers bore him down. As he fell he saw the white shaft of one of Nadia's hunting-

arrows flash past his helmet and bury itself to the nock in the body of one of the horde

above him. Nadia knew that her arrows could not harm her lover, and through a chink

between two boulders she was shooting into the thickest of the mob, speeding her light

arrows with the full power of her bow.

     Though down, the savages soon discovered that Stevens was not out. In such

close quarters he could not use his sword, but the fourteen-inch blade of the dirk,

needle-pointed as it was and with two razor-sharp, serrated cutting edges, was itself no

mean weapon, and time after time he drove it deep, taking life at every thrust. Four

more red monsters threw themselves upon the prostrate man, but, not sufficiently

versed in armor to seek out its joints, their fierce short spear-thrusts did no damage.

Presently four more corpses lay still and Stevens, with his to them incredible Earthly

strength, was once more upon his feet in spite of their utmost efforts to pinion his mighty

limbs, and was again swinging his devastating weapon. Half their force lying upon the

field, wiped out by a small, but invincible and apparently invulnerable being, the

remainder broke and ran, pursued by Stevens to the point where the red monsters had

first halted. He recovered his arrows and returned to the cave, opening his face-plate as

he came.

     "All x, sweetheart?" he asked, rolling away the boulders. "Didn't get anything

through to you, did they ?"

     "No, they didn't even realize that I was taking part in the battle, I guess. Did they

hurt you while they had you down ? I was scared to death for a minute."

     "No, the old armor held. One of them must've gnawed on my ankle some,

between the greave and the heel-plate, but he couldn't quite get through. 'Sa darn small

opening there, too—must've bent my foot 'way round to get in at all. Have to tighten that

joint up a little, I guess. I'll bet I've got a black and blue spot there the size of my hand—

maybe it's only the size of yours, though."

     "You won't die of that, probably. Heavens, Steve, that cleaver of yours is a

frightful thing in action! Suppose it's safe for us to go home?"

     "Absolutely—right now's the best chance we'll ever have, and something tells me

that we'd better make it snappy. They'll be back, and next time they won't be so easy to

take."

     "All x, then—hold me, Steve, I can't stand the sight of that, let alone wade

through it. I'm going to faint or something, sure."

     "As you were!" he snapped. "You aren't going to pass out now that it's all over!

It's a pretty ghastly mess, I know, but shut your eyes and I'll carry you out of sight."

     "Aren't we out of sight of that place yet?" she demanded after a time.

     "Have been for quite a while," he confessed, "but you're sitting pretty, aren't you

? And you aren't very heavy —not here on Ganymede, anyway!"

     "Put me down!" she commanded. "After that crack I won't play with you any more

at all—I'll pick up my marbles and go home!"

     He released her and they hurried back toward their waterfall, keeping wary eyes

sharp-set for danger in any form, animal or vegetable. On the way back across the

foothills Stevens shot another hexaped, and upon the plateau above the river Nadia

bagged several birds and small animals; but it was not until they were actually in their

own little canyon that their rapid pace slackened and their vigilance relaxed.

     "After this, ace, we hunt together and we go back to wearing armor while we're

hunting. It scared me out of a year's growth when you checked up missing."

     "We sure do, Steve," she concurred emphatically. "I'm not going to get more than

a meter away from you from now on. What do you suppose those horrible things are ?"

     "Which?"

     "Both."

     "Those flowers aren't like anything Tellus ever saw, so we have no basis of

comparison. They may be a development of a kind of flycatcher, or they may be a link

between the animal and the vegetable kingdom. However, we don't intend to study 'em,

so let's forget 'em. Those animals were undoubtedly intelligent beings; they probably are

a race of savages of this satellite."

     "Then the really civilized races are probably . . ."

     "Not necessarily — there may well be different types, each struggling toward

civilization. There certainly are on Venus, and there once were on Mars."

     "Why haven't we seen anything like that before, in all these months ? Things

have been so calm and peaceful that we thought we had the whole world to ourselves,

as far as danger or men were concerned."

     "We never saw them before because we never went where they lived—you were

a long ways from your usual stamping-grounds, you know. That animal-vegetable flower

is probably a high-altitude organism, living in the mountains and never coming as low as

we are down here. As for the savages—whatever they are—they probably never come

within five kilometers of the falls. Many primitive peoples think that waterfalls are

inhabited by demons, and maybe these folks are afflicted the same way."

     "We don't know much about our new world yet, do we?"

     "We sure don't—and I'm not particularly keen on finding out much more about it

until we get, organized for trouble, either. Well, here we are—just like getting back home

to see the Hope, isn't it?"

     "It if home, and will be until we get one of our own on Earth," and after Stevens

had read his meters, learning with satisfaction that the full current was still flowing into

the accumulators, he began to cut up the meat.

     "Now that you've got the power-plant running at last, what next?" asked Nadia,

piling the cuts in the freezer.

     "Brandon's ultra-radio comes next, but it's got more angles to it than a cubist's

picture of a set of prisms; so many that I don't know where to begin. There, that job's

done— let's sit down and I'll talk at you a while. Maybe between us we can figure out

where to start. I've got everything to build it lined up except for the tube, but that's got

me stopped cold. You see, fields of force are all right in most places, but I've got to have

one tube, and it's got to have the hardest possible vacuum. That means a mercury-

vapor super-pump. Mercury is absolutely the only thing that will do the trick and mercury

is one thing that is conspicuous by its absence in these parts. So are tungsten for

filaments, tantalum for plates, and platinum for leads; and I haven't found anything that I

can use as a getter, either — a metal, you know, to flash inside the tube to clean up the

last traces of atmosphere in it."

     "I didn't suppose that such a simple thing as a radio tube could hold you up, after

the perfectly unbelievable things that you have done already—but I see now how it

could. Of course the tubes in our receiver over there are too small ?"

     "Yes, they are only receiver and communicator tubes, and I need a high-power

transmitting tube—a fifty-kilowatter, at least. I'd give my left leg to the knee joint for one

of those big water-cooled, sixty-kilowatt ten-nineteens right now—it'd save us a lot of

grief."

     "Maybe you could break up those tubes and use the plates and so on?"

     "I thought of that, but it won't work—there isn't half enough metal in the lot, and

the filaments in particular are so tiny that I couldn't possibly work them over into a big

one. Then, too, we haven't got many spare tubes, and if I smash the ones we're using I

put our communicators out of business for good, so that we can't yell for help if we have

to drift home—and I still don't get any mercury."

     "Do you mean to tell me there's no mercury on this whole planet?"

     "Not exactly; but I do mean that I haven't been able to find any, and that it's

probably darned scarce. And since all the other metals I want worst are also very dense

and of high atomic weight, they're probably mighty scarce here, too. Why ? Because

we're on a satellite, and no matter what hypothesis you accept for the origin of satellites,

you come to the same conclusion—that heavy metals are either absent or most awfully

scarce and buried deep down toward the center. There are lots of heavy metals in

Jupiter somewhere, but we probably couldn't find them. Jupiter's atmosphere is one

mass of fog, and we couldn't see, since we haven't got an infra-red transformer. I could

build one, in time, but it'd take quite a while—and we couldn't work on Jupiter, anyway,

because of its gravity and probably because of its atmosphere. And even if we could

work there, we don't want to spend the rest of our lives prospecting for mercury."

Stevens fell silent, brow wrinkled in thought.

     "You mean, dear, that we're . . ." Nadia broke off, the sentence unfinished.

     "Gosh, no! There's lots of things not tried yet, and we can always set out to drift

it. I was thinking only of building the tube. And I'm trying to think . . . say, Nadia, what do

you know about Cantrell's Comet ?"

     "Not a thing, except that I remember reading in the newspapers that it was

peculiar for something or other. But what has Cantrell's Comet got to do with the high

cost of living—or with radio tubes? Have you gone nuts all of a sudden?"

     "You'd be surprised!" Stevens grinned at her puzzled expression. "Cantrell's

Comet is one of Jupiter's comet family, and is peculiar in being the most massive one

known to science. It was hardly known until after they built that thousand-foot reflector

on the Moon, where the seeing is always perfect, but it has been studied a lot since

then. Its nucleus is small, but extremely heavy—it seems to have an average density of

somewhere around sixteen. There's platinum and everything else that's heavy there,

girl. They ought to be there in such quantity that even such a volunteer chemist as I am

could find them."

     "Heavens, Steve!" A look of alarm flashed over Nadia's face, then disappeared

as rapidly as it had come into being. "But of course comets aren't really dangerous."

     "Sure not. A comet's tail, which so many people are afraid of as being poison

gas, is almost a perfect vacuum, even at its thickest, and we'd have to wear space-suits

anyway. And speaking of vacuum . . . whoopee! We don't need mercury any more than

a goldfish needs a gas-mask. When we get Mr. Tube done, we'll take him out into

space, leaving his mouth open, and very shortly he'll be as empty as a bobby-soxer's

skull. Then we'll seal him up, flash him out, come back here, and start spilling our

troubles into Brandon's shell-like ear!"

     "Wonderful! You do get an idea occasionally, don't you? But how do we get out

there? Where is this Can-Cell's Comet?"

     ''I don't know, exactly—there's one rub. Another is that I haven't even started the

transmitter and receptor units. But we've got some field-generators here On board that I

can use, so it won't be so bad. And our comet is in this part of the Solar System

somewhere fairly close. Wish we had an Ephemeris, a couple of I-P solar charts, and a

real telescope."

     "You can't do much without an Ephemeris, I shouldn't think. It's a good thing you

kept the chronometers going. You know the I-P time, day, and dates, anyway."

     "I'll have to do without some things, that's all," and the man stared absently at the

steel wall. "I remember something about its orbit, since it is one thing that all I-P vessels

have to steer clear of. Think I can figure it close enough so that we'll be able to find it in

our little telescope, or even on our plate, since we'll be out of atmosphere. And it might

not be a bad idea for us to get away, anyway. I'm afraid of those folks on that space-

ship, whoever they were, and they must live around here somewhere. Cantrell's Comet

swings about fifty million kilometers outside Jupiter's orbit at aphelion—close enough for

us to reach, and yet probably too far for them to find us easily. By the time we get back

here, they probably will have quit looking for us, if they look at all. Then too, I expect

these savages to follow us up. What say, little ace—do we try it or do we stay here ?"

     "You know best, Steve. As I said before, I'm with you from now on, in whatever

you think best to do. I know that you think it best to go out there. Therefore, so do I."

     "Well," he said, finally, "I'd better get busy, then— there's a lot to do before we

can start. The radio doesn't come next, after all — the transmitter and receptor units

come ahead of it. They won't mean wasted labor, in any event, since we'll have to have

them in case the radio fails. You'd better lay in a lot of supplies while I'm working on that

stuff, but don't go out of sight, and yell like fury if you see anything. We'd both better

wear full armor every time we go out-of-doors—unless I'm all out of control we aren't

done with those savages yet. Even though they may be afraid of the demons of the

falls, I think they'll have at least one more try at us."

     While Nadia brought in meat and vegetables and stored them away, Stevens

attacked the problem of constructing the pair of tight-beam, auto-dirigible transmitter

and receptor units which would connect his great turbo-alternator to the accumulators of

their craft, wherever it might be in space. From the force-field generators of the Forlorn

Hope he selected the two most suitable for his purpose, tuned them to the exact

frequency he required, and around them built a complex system of condensers and

coils.

     Day after day passed. Their larder was full, the receptor was finished, and the

beam transmitter was almost ready to attach to the turbo-alternator before the calm was

broken.

     "Steve!" Nadia shrieked. Glancing idly into the communicator plate, she had been

perfunctorily surveying the surrounding territory. "They're coming! Thousands of them!

They're all over the bench up there, and just simply pouring down the hills and up the

valley!"

     "Wish they'd waited a few hours longer—we'd've been gone. However, we're just

about ready for them," he commented grimly, as he stared over her shoulder into the

communicator plate. "We'll make a lot of those Indians wish that they had stayed at

home with their papooses."

     "Have you got all those rays and things fixed up ?"

     "Not as many as I'd like to have. You see, I don't know the composition of the I-P

ray, since it is outlawed to everybody except the police. Of course I could have found

out from Brandon, but never paid any attention to it. I've got some nice ultra-violet,

though, and a short-wave oscillatory that'll cook an elephant to a cinder in about eight

seconds. We'll keep 'em amused, no fooling! Glad we had time to cover our open sides,

and it looks as though that meteorite armor we put over the projectors may be mighty

useful, too."

     On and on the savages came, massed in formations showing some signs of rude

discipline. This time there was neither shrieking nor yelling; the weird creatures

advanced silently and methodically. Here and there were massed groups of hundreds,

dragging behind them engines which Stevens studied with interest.

     "Hm . . . m . . . m. Catapults," he mused. "You were right, girl of my dreams —

armor and bows and arrows wouldn't help us much right now. They're going to throw

rocks at us that'll have both mass and momentum. With those things they can cave in

our side-armor, and might even dent our roof. When one of those projectiles hits, we

want to be where it ain't, that's all."

     Stevens cast off the heavily-insulated plug connecting the power plant leads to

his now almost fully charged accumulators, strapped himself and Nadia into place at the

controls, and waited, staring into the plate. Catapult after catapult was dragged to the lip

of the little canyon, until six of them bore upon the target. The huge stranded springs of

hair, fibre, and sinew were wound up to the limit, and enormous masses of rock were

toilsomely rolled upon the platforms. Each "gunner" seized his trip, and as the leader

shrieked his signal the six ponderous masses of metalliferous rock heaved into the air

as one. But they did not strike their objective, for as the signal was given, 'Stevens shot

power into his projectors. The Forlorn Hope leaped out of the canyon and high into the

air over the open meadow, just as the six great projectiles crashed into the ground upon

the spot which, an instant before, she had occupied.

     Rudimentary discipline forgotten, the horde rushed down into the canyon and the

valley, in full clamor of their barbaric urges. Horns and arms tossed fiercely, savage

noises rent the air, and arrows splintered harmlessly upon steel plate as the mystified

and maddened warriors upon the plain below gave vent to their outraged feelings.

     "Look, Nadia! A whole gang of them are smelling around that power plug. Pretty

soon somebody's going to touch a hot spot, and when he does we'll cut loose on the

rest of them."

     The huge insulating plug, housing the ends of the three great cables leading to

the converters of the turbo-alternator, lay innocently upon the ground, its three yawning

holes invitingly open to savage arms. The chief, who had been inspecting the power-

plant, walked along the triplex lead and joined his followers at its terminus. Pointing with

his horns he jabbered orders, and three red monsters, one at each cable, bent to lift the

plug, while the leader himself thrust an arm into each of the three contact holes. There

was a flash of searing flame and the reeking smoke of burning flesh—those three arms

had taken the terrific no-load voltage of the three-phase converter system, and the full

power of the alternator had been shorted directly to ground through the comparatively

small resistance of his body.

     Stevens had poised the Forlorn Hope edgewise in mid-air, so that the gleaming,

heavily armored parabolic reflectors of his projectors, mounted upon the leading edge of

the fortress, covered the scene below. As the charred corpse of the savage chieftain

dropped to the ground, it seemed to the six-limbed creatures that the demons of the

falls had indeed been annoyed beyond endurance by their intrusion; for, as if in

response to the flash of fire from the power plug, that structure so peculiarly and so

stolidly hanging in the air came plunging down toward them. From it there reached

down twin fans of death and destruction: one flaming an almost invisibly incandescent

violet which tore at the eyes and excruciatingly disintegrated brain and nervous tissues;

the other dully glowing an equally invisible red, at the touch of which body temperature

soared to lethal heights and foliage burst cracklingly into spontaneous flame.

     In their massed hundreds the savages dropped where they stood, life rived away

by the torturing ultra-violet, burned away by the blast of pure heat, or consumed by the

conflagrations that raged instantly wherever that wide-sweeping fan encountered

combustible material. In the face of power supernatural they lost all thought of attack or

of conquest, and sought only and madly to escape. Weapons were thrown away, the

catapults were abandoned, and, every man for himself, the mob fled in wildest disorder,

each striving to put as much distance as possible between himself and that place of

dread mystery, the waterfall.

     "Well, I guess that'll hold 'em for a while," Stevens dropped their craft back into

its original quarters in the canyon. "Whether they ever believed before that this falls was

inhabited by devils or not, they think so now. I'll bet that it'll be six hundred Jovian years

before any of them ever come within a hundred kilometers of it again. I'm glad of it, too,

because they'll let our power plant alone now. Well, let's get going—we've got to make

things hum for a while!"

     "Why all the rush ? You just said that we have scared them away for good."

     "The savages, yes, but not those others. We've just turned loose enough

radiation to affect detectors all over the system, and it's up to us to get this beam

projector set up, get away from here, and get our power shut off before they can trace

us. Snap it up, ace!"

     The transmitter unit was installed at the converters, the cable was torn out; and

having broken the last material link between it and Ganymede, Stevens hurled the

Forlorn Hope out into space, using the highest acceleration Nadia could endure. Hour

after hour the massive wedge of steel bored outward, away from Jupiter; hour after hour

Stevens' anxious eyes scanned his instruments; hour after hour hope mounted and

relief took the place of anxiety as the screens remained blank throughout every inquiring

thrust into the empty ether.