Part 2

"We don't have to worry about that yet," was the answer, "we're not going fast enough. And the temperature outside is about sixty-five below."

Dynamon nodded and glanced again at the altimeter. The needle was steadily climbing, a mile every ten seconds. Once again he looked into the screen of the periscope. The Earth was now far enough away so that the young centurion could begin to make out the broad arc which was a part of the curving circumference of the globe. Silently he said a final good-bye to Keltry and turned to speak to Borion. At that moment the door of the control room burst open and an engineer stepped in and saluted the navigator.

"Stowaway, sir," the engineer said. "Just found her in the munitions compartment."

Dynamon stared out through the open door at the woman who stood out there between two soldiers.

It was Keltry.

* * * * *

It was a harried and heartsick centurion who, a few minutes later, called a conference in his own quarters. Borion and Thamon sat regarding him gravely, while Mortoch, the second in command, lounged against the wall, a faint, derisive smile on his lean face.

"We are faced with a situation," Dynamon said heavily. "I would like to hear some opinions."

"Flagrant case of indiscipline," Mortoch said promptly; "that is, if we can regard this impersonally."

"Personalities," said Dynamon sharply, "will have no influence on my final decision."

"In that case," said Mortoch harshly, "it seems to me, you are bound to put back to Earth and hand the woman over to the right people for corrective action."

"Good heavens!" cried Borion, "I hope we don't have to do that. We already have a problem on our hands in the shape of that Martian Carrier."

"What do you say, Thamon?" the centurion asked after a significant pause.

"Well," said the scientist quietly, "you can't altogether regard the situation without considering personalities. Keltry stowed away for a very personal reason, and one which it is hard to condemn entirely. I think we are over-emphasizing the official breach of discipline. I, personally, can't see that it makes so much difference. After all, we on this expedition are on our own and are likely to remain so for some time to come. I am in favor of going along about our business and forgetting how Keltry came aboard."

"Spoken like a civilian," said Mortoch sourly, "and I hold to my opinion. Just because Dynamon was promoted over my head, I see no reason for trying to curry favor with him."

There was an awkward silence during which Dynamon's face grew very pink and his blue eyes grew cold.

"I'm going to forget what you just said, Mortoch," he said. "You are a valued member of this expedition, and you are much too good a soldier to overlook the danger that lies in that kind of talk. Without my participation, you are out-voted two to one. We will not turn back."

He stood up with a gesture of dismissal and the three lieutenants filed out of the door. He paced the floor of his quarters for a few minutes, then walked to the door and gave orders for the prisoner to be sent in.

"Ah, Keltry darling," he said after the guard had left the two of them alone, "you have put me in an impossible position."

"I don't see why it should be that bad," Keltry answered. "It was an inhuman thing to do to separate us and I just wasn't going to permit it."

"Yes, but don't you see?" said Dynamon, "I will be accused of playing favorites because I don't turn around and take you back to Earth."

"I'm not asking favors," Keltry retorted calmly, "I just want to be a member of this expedition."

Whatever Dynamon was going to answer to that, it was interrupted by the loud-speaker booming:

"Centurion Dynamon is requested at the control room."

Dynamon leapt to his feet, crushed Keltry to him in a swift brief embrace and then opened the door.

"Escort the prisoner to the scientist's quarters," he ordered, "and release her."

* * * * *

Dynamon walked into the control room and saw that Borion's face was gray. The navigator was standing in front of the periscope screens looking from one to another. The centurion walked over and stood beside him.

"The Martians are showing their hand finally," said Borion. "They have decided that we're headed for another planet, and I don't think that they want to let us carry out our intention. See, here and here?" Dynamon peered into the port and starboard bow panels. He could see dozens of little red specks rapidly growing larger.

"They will try and surround us," Borion said, "and blanket our magnets with their own."

"That's not so good, is it?" Dynamon murmured. "What is our altitude from Earth?"

"Forty miles," was the reply, "and I think they still may be able to overhear our conversation."

"Let them," said Dynamon quietly, "We have no secrets from them and they may as well know that we're going to out-run them. Full speed, Borion!"

The Navigator advanced the "repellor" lever as far as it would go. There was a slight jerk under foot. Then he adjusted a needle on a large dial and moved the "attractor" lever to its full distance. There was another jerk as the great Carrier lunged forward through space. Borion smiled.

"I put the attractor beam on the moon," he said, "and we'll be hitting it up close to nineteen miles a second in a few minutes. We should walk away from those drops of blood, over there."

"Are we pointing away from them enough?" Dynamon asked. "What's to prevent them from changing their course and cutting over to intercept us? See, that's what they appear to be doing now."

The navigator peered critically at the forward periscope screens. "It may be a close shave at that," he admitted. "But please trust me, Dynamon, I'll make it past them."

* * * * *

The tiny red specks in the periscope screens were growing shockingly fast, indicating the frightful speed at which the Earth-Carrier was traveling. Bigger and bigger they grew under Dynamon's fascinated gaze. The centurion darted a glance at Borion. In this fantastic encounter, every second counted. Could the navigator elude the pursuing red Carriers? Borion haunched tensely over the control levers, his eyes glued to the screens. The Martian ships were as big as cigars now and tripling their size with every heartbeat. Dynamon clenched his fist involuntarily and fought down an impulse to shout a warning. That would be worse than useless now--the fate of the expedition was entirely in the hands of Borion.

Dynamon held his breath as a flash of red flicked across the port bow periscope screen. The Carrier heaved under his feet for a second then quickly settled to an even keel again. The sweat stood out in little drops on Borion's forehead.

"Too close for comfort," muttered the navigator. His eyes widened as another huge red shape loomed up in the starboard bow screen. Borion's hands flicked over a dial spinning a needle around. Then he hung desperately back on the repellor. There was a momentary shock. The Carrier seemed to bounce off something. Borion staggered and Dynamon hurled forward and crashed into the forward bulkhead of the control room.

Then Borion shouted, "We're through!"

Dynamon picked himself up off the floor with a rueful smile. "I thought we were _all_ through for a minute," he observed.

"Well! That was a bad minute there!" said Borion excitedly. "I thought that one fellow was going to get us, but I kicked him off by throwing the beam on him and giving him the repellor. But you can see for yourself, they are far behind now, and they'll never in the world be able to catch up."

Dynamon peered into the port and starboard quarter screens and saw a group of rapidly diminishing red specks. He looked up with a sigh of relief.

"Good work, Borion," he said, and the navigator grinned.

"I don't think we will have to worry any more about the Martian ships from now on, if we're careful," Borion said. "I'm going to run for the shadow of the moon and from there I'll plot a course straight for Jupiter, avoiding Mars entirely."

* * * * *

The door to the control room opened, and a smiling, spectacled face peered in. It was Thamon, the scientist.

"That was quite a bump," Thamon observed. "Were we trying to knock down an asteroid?"

Dynamon gave a short laugh. "No, that was merely some of our friends from Mars trying to head us off. But they're far behind now and we don't anticipate any trouble for a good many days."

"Ah, round one to the Earth people," Thamon observed. "In that case, Dynamon, have you decided how you are going to conduct affairs within the Carrier in the immediate future?"

"Not quite," Dynamon replied. "Suppose we discuss that, in my quarters?"

Thamon nodded. "I'm at your disposal, Centurion."

Dynamon led the way down the little stair and into the compartment that served as his office. Once there, he threw off his long military cloak and sat down at a little table, his great bronzed shoulders gleaming in the soft artificial light.

"I suppose the first question," said Thamon, sitting down opposite the centurion, "is whether to institute suspended animation on board?"

"I think we'd better, don't you?" said Dynamon.

"It would save a lot of food and oxygen," the scientist replied. "You see, even at our tremendous rate of speed now, it will take two hundred and twenty-six days to reach the outer layer of Saturn's atmosphere. Until we actually land the ship, there is no conceivable emergency that couldn't be handled by a skeleton crew."

"Quite right," said Dynamon. "I'll have Mortoch take charge of the arrangements, if you will stand by to supervise the technical side."

"It's as good as done," said Thamon. "We have the newest type of refrigeration system in the main saloon. I can drop the temperature one hundred and fifty degrees in one-fifth of a second. By the way, I was a little worried by that outburst of Mortoch's when we were talking about Keltry."

"Oh, well," said Dynamon, "Mortoch is only human. He was a Senior Decurion and I was passed over him for this job. He couldn't help but be a little jealous. But he will be all right, he's a soldier, after all."

"I hope so," said Thamon, doubtfully.

"Why certainly," Dynamon affirmed. "As a matter of fact, I wish he had been given the command in the first place. Between you and me, I'm not too keen about this expedition to a comparatively unknown planet. Thamon, why on earth weren't human beings content to stay at home? Why did they have to go to such endless pains to construct these Cosmos Carriers? Before these things were invented, the inhabitants of Earth and the inhabitants of Mars didn't know that each other existed, and they were perfectly happy about it. But when they both began spinning around through space between the planets, all of a sudden the Solar System was not big enough to hold both Peoples."

"It's some fatal restlessness in the make-up of human beings," Thamon replied. "Do you realize how far back Man has been trying to reach out to other planets?"

"Well, the first successful trip in a Cosmos Carrier was made seventy-eight years ago," said Dynamon.

Thamon chuckled.

"As far as we _know_, that was the first successful trip," the scientist corrected. "As a matter of fact, the first Cosmos Carrier was anticipated hundreds of years ago. Just the other day in the library, I found a very interesting account of an archaeological discovery made up in North Central 3A--the island that the ancients called Britain. A complete set of drawings and building plans was found in an admirable state of preservation. The date on the plans was 1956, and as you will remember from your school history, all of North Central by that time had been terribly ravaged by the wars. The inventor, whose name was Leonard Bolton, called his contrivance a 'space ship.' Wonderful, those old names, aren't they? But the most remarkable thing of all, is, that the designs for that 'space ship' were very practical. If the man ever had a chance to build one, which he probably didn't, it might very well have been a successful vehicle."

"That's very interesting," said Dynamon. "Were there any clues as to what happened to Leonard Bolton?"

"None at all," the scientist replied. "All we know about him is that he designed the 'space ship' and then was presumably blotted out by the savage weapons used in the warfare of those days. But, as I say, the remarkable thing is that when we got around to building a Cosmos Carrier eighty years ago, we were able to use several of Leonard Bolton's ideas. Which all goes to show, I suppose, there's nothing new under the sun."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Dynamon with a smile. "I've an idea that we're going to bump into several things new to us on the planet Saturn."

"As to that," Thamon nodded, "I shouldn't be surprised if you are right. Now I suppose I'd better go and make arrangements for the refrigeration job. Will Mortoch be responsible for providing each individual with a hypodermic and return-to-life tablets?"

"That will be taken care of," said Dynamon. "I'll see you later."

* * * * *

Dynamon stood beside Borion in the control room, staring fascinatedly at the periscope screens. The images that were reflected in the six panels made up a composite scene that was awe-inspiring and fearsome. The great Cosmos Carrier was finally arriving at the end of its seven months' journey. In front of the Earthcraft, a vast, barren expanse, uniformly dark gray in color spread for thousands of miles. To one side of the Carrier a wide belt of mist and shimmering particles stretched upward from the planet out toward space. Dynamon realized that this was a small section of the great ring encircling Saturn, that could be seen in the powerful telescopes from Earth. Glancing at the stern vision screens, Dynamon saw the sun twinkling. So far away it was now, that it was hardly bigger than a large star and gave off not much more light. Even though they were coming to Saturn in the middle of a Saturnian day, there was no more than a gloomy half-light to illumine their way.

"Saturn revolves on its axis with such speed," observed Borion, "that I should imagine there will be tremendous prevailing winds on the surface. I think I can see a range of steep mountains down there; it might not be a bad idea if we landed in the lee of them."

"Yes," agreed Dynamon, "I think that would be a good idea. As a matter of fact, we may have to dig below the surface entirely to prevent being blown away. How is the gravitation pull?"

"It's a curious thing," Borion replied. "It should be tremendous but the centrifugal force is so strong that it counterbalances to a certain extent. The ship is handling very easily."

"How soon do you think we'll make the surface?" said Dynamon.

"I should estimate somewhere around six hours from now," the navigator answered. "I could make it sooner but I'm feeling my way."

"That suits me," said Dynamon. "That will give us just time to turn off the refrigeration and bring our people back to life. Lucky devils to be able to sleep through this trip--have you ever been so bored in your life?"

"Never," agreed Borion. "But I am not bored now."

Dynamon walked across the control room and threw a large switch in the wall panel.

"Decurion Mortoch and Scientist Thamon," he said into the loud-speaker system. "Proceed at once to remove the suspension-of-life condition in the main saloon. As soon as everyone is revived, stand by to take landing stations."

As the centurion closed the switch and turned away, Borion called him over again to the periscope screens.

"That _is_ a range of mountains," said the navigator. "I can see it more clearly now. I think I'll slow up our descent a little bit so that by the time we're ready to land it will be midday again. As you probably know, Saturn makes a complete revolution in only a little more than ten hours."

"That sounds sensible," said Dynamon. "We'll need all the light we can get to make a safe landing."

Borion nodded and reached toward the repellor lever. He pushed it gently forward and then looked at his altimeter. He seemed to be dissatisfied with the altimeter reading and pushed forward the repellor lever a little more. Then he looked again at the altimeter, and an expression of bewilderment came over his face. With a muttered exclamation he jammed the repellor lever as far ahead as it would go, at the same time watching the altimeter. Dynamon sensed that something was wrong as he watched the color drain out of the navigator's face.

"The Saints preserve us!" the navigator cried hoarsly. "Something has gone terribly wrong--the repellor isn't working! We're dropping at a frightful rate of speed--!"

Borion leapt to the loud-speaker system and issued rapid orders to the navigating engineers.

"What's going to happen to us?" Dynamon demanded.

"I don't know," Borion said, his face ashen. "I think it is just a simple mechanical failure in the controls from the repellor lever down to the magnets. I don't know how soon my workers can discover the trouble and repair it. In the mean time--"

"In the mean time," Dynamon broke in gloomily, "we may all be spattered all over that gray landscape."

"Either that," Borion gritted, "or we burn to a crisp from the atmospheric friction. I can feel it getting warmer in here already."

* * * * *

Dynamon fought down the sickening sensation of panic that was starting to creep over him.

"How long do you think we have got?" he said with an effort.

"At the most," said Borion staring, white lipped, at the altimeter, "at the most, I should say a half an hour."

The door to the control room burst open and Thamon rushed in closely followed by Keltry.

"I heard you talking to your engineers, Borion," the scientist said rapidly. "Are we in trouble?"

"We are," said Borion, "and it may be the last trouble any of us ever have. Our repellor has gone out for some reason. And we're heading for the surface of Saturn like a meteorite."

"Can't anything be done?" said Thamon.

"My engineers are doing all they can to find the source of the trouble," Borion replied. "But until they do, I can't slow the ship up."

Keltry's great brown eyes were enormous as she moved over beside Dynamon and took his right hand in hers.

"As long as I'm with you, Dynamon," she said in a low voice, "I'm not afraid to die. But I hate to see your expedition fail. Perhaps the fate of the Earth depends on us here in this Carrier."

"I know," said Dynamon, squeezing her hand. His eyes followed Borion as the navigator went to the loud-speaker system again. But apparently the news from below was not encouraging, and Borion's shoulders sagged as he turned to face the other three people in the control room.

"They haven't found the source of the trouble yet," he said dully, "and there's not a thing to be done until they do. I'm sorry that, as navigator of this Carrier, I am plunging you all to your death. But it's a case of a simple mechanical failure which I couldn't foresee."

Keltry stepped forward impulsively and laid her hand on the navigator's wrist.

"Nobody could blame you, Borion," she said gently. "It isn't your fault if the attractor or the repellor lever, whichever it is, gets broken. You are already--"

"Wait a minute!" Borion shouted, eyes darting out of his head. "The attractor! In my excitement I forgot!"

The navigator leapt to the control levers, spun the dial and put his hand on the attractor lever.

"If--I'm only--on time!" he muttered agonizedly. "It's just possible--the counter-attraction of Jupiter--Lord it's hot!"

The control room was silent as death as the navigator eased the attractor lever carefully forward. Dynamon whipped a glance at the periscope screens. The ground was rushing up at a terrific rate, and out behind the Carrier, a dense cloud of black smoke was forming. The veins were standing out in Borion's forehead as he inched the attractor lever forward. The girl and the two men watched him with bated breath as he slowly raised his eyes to the altimeter. A wild incredulous expression appearing on the navigator's face.

"_It's--it's working!_" Borion muttered hoarsly, "_the attractor beam from Jupiter is slowing us up!_"

* * * * *

Dynamon's heart leapt and he sprang back to the periscope screens. The column of smoke behind them was still there but it seemed to be thinning out. But the surface of Saturn seemed to be rushing upward just as fast as ever. Dynamon twisted his head around to look at Borion. A feverish smile was lighting up the navigator's face as he pressed forward on the attractor lever.

"We may just make it!" he breathed, and Dynamon said a little prayer.

In the screen a range of dark gray mountains stood out in bold relief and seemed to reach claw-like peaks toward the speeding Carrier. But the smoke had ceased to whip past, and only a small black cloud far behind served to remind Dynamon of the fearful friction that the surface of the ship had been subjected to. At the same time Dynamon felt an invisible force dragging him toward the front bulkhead of the control room, and he knew that the Carrier was slowing up its forward speed. Through the bow periscopes the jagged range of mountains seemed so close that Dynamon almost felt he could reach out and touch them. Miraculously, they rose up to one side of the ship. A moment later a voice sounded in the loud-speaker system.

"The magnet room calling the navigator. A break in the control shaft has been discovered and repaired. Throw the repellor lever into neutral and then advance it."

Borion gave a little sob, flicked back the repellor and then pushed it forward again. The floor of the control room heaved for a minute and then settled on an even keel, Dynamon stared unbelievingly at the starboard midship's periscope screens and saw that the great Carrier was resting immobile not more than twenty feet above the gray soil of Saturn.

"Saved!" cried Borion hysterically, "and it was Keltry who did it! In my excitement I would have let all of us plunge to our death, if Keltry hadn't reminded me that there was such a thing as an attractor lever! Dynamon, Thamon, we should get down on our knees and thank our stars that Keltry was in here!"

The door of the control room opened and Mortoch stepped in.

"Do you have to toss us around like that?" the lean decurion said. "I had a near-panic on my hands with some of those people just coming out of their suspended animation. Oh!--" Mortoch smiled ironically--"I begin to see why we had such a rough passage. If beautiful stowaways are given the run of the control room, I should imagine it would be hard for the navigator to keep his mind on his work."

Borion started forward with a snarl but Dynamon's voice cracked like a whip.

"Attention! Both of you! Try and remember that you are modern, civilized men, not twentieth century brutes."

Borion's hands fell to his sides, and he began to laugh.

"You're absolutely right, Dynamon," he said, "I don't know why I should let myself be annoyed by this crude soldier. After all, the cream of the joke is that Mortoch would never have been able to come in here and make sarcastic remarks about Keltry, if Keltry hadn't been here for the past half hour."

"What do you mean by that?" said Mortoch suspiciously.

"I mean," said Borion, "that if Keltry had not been in here, you and everybody else aboard this Carrier would now be dead."