Part 5

Dynamon looked over the silent group of soldiers, at Mortoch, shoulders hunched in the grip of two stalwarts. Then he bowed his head in thought for a moment.

"Men," he said, finally, "this is not a case of calling for volunteers. I think any one of us is brave enough to offer his life for the good of the rest of the human beings, but I think we should decide who is to do this dirty work by drawing lots."

"No!"

It was Mortoch. In his eyes was a wild, hunted look, and his voice was hoarse, but there was deep sincerity in his tones.

"Dynamon," said the Chief Decurion, "I went off my head with jealousy a minute ago. The madness is gone now, and I would give anything if I could undo what I did. You must give me the chance to redeem myself. If I am killed, so much the better for me. And if I am not, so much the better for all the human beings in the world."

Dynamon looked long and searchingly at the Decurion. Finally he said, "Mortoch, I cannot deny your appeal. Take this piece of tridium and go up the shaft. We will be close behind you to observe the experiment."

Just then, there was a shout from the two soldiers who were guarding the passageway to the pit.

"Martians!" they cried. "They are coming down on us! The shaft is full of them!"

Dynamon walked straight toward Mortoch and placed the piece of tridium in his hand.

"Your ordeal is at hand," he said simply, as, in a flash, the bright aura transferred itself to the person of Mortoch.

* * * * *

The two soldiers guarding the entrance to the pit were backing away to either side and throwing voltage bombs into the passageway as Mortoch ran toward them.

"Stop!" he shouted, never slackening his pace. "This is my job! Get out of range!"

He halted six feet away from the mouth of the passage and raised his arms up in a gesture of defiance. An admiring gasp went up from the crowd of watching humans at the tall, lean figure bathed in its luminous glow. Then a deathly silence shut down abruptly as four little figures erupted through the passageway. Martians!

They were scarcely two feet tall, with spindly little bodies and legs, but their heads were more than twice the size of human heads and looked doubly grotesque in their combination helmet-masks. One of them was holding a big, black cone--the Photo-Atomic generator. Quickly the little creature leveled it at Mortoch and pulled a lever on the side. An ominous high-pitched hum filled the air and everyone knew that the death Ray was being poured in all its deadly violence on Mortoch.

Thamon was the first to raise his voice in a shout as Mortoch, unharmed, strode forward and felled the Martian with one blow of his fist. The air rang with human cheers as Mortoch seized two more scurrying Martians by the legs and dashed their brains out on the ground.

"It works!" Thamon yelled, hysterically. "It's tridium! We're saved!"

The scientist was hacking crazily at the rock with his metal staff and jubilant soldiers swarmed around him, picking up pieces of tridium. In a few moments the whole force, every man surrounded by the luminous aura, was bolting through the passageway into the bottom of the pit.

For a short time the Martians tried to put up a battle. But with their chief weapon nullified, they were slaughtered by the dozen, and the survivors began flitting up the shaft. In the midst of the turmoil, Dynamon kept his wits about him. He knew that in order to realize the full value of the tridium discovery, the Martians on the surface must be kept from learning about it. He raised his voice in a mighty shout over the clamor.

"Masks on! Up the shaft at full speed! We must not allow a single Martian to reach the surface!"

Swiftly the Earth-soldiers fastened their masks and took off straight upward. Each one of them clung to their precious lumps of tridium, and in a short time the dark shaft presented an extraordinary spectacle. Each of the twenty-odd humans was bathed in his own ghostly envelope of light, and the fleeing Martians, looking downward, must have felt as if they were being pursued by a squadron of giant fireflies.

The survivors of the massacre below had a head start of their pursuers, but being so much lighter in weight, their gravity-repellors could not push them up through the atmosphere as fast as the humans could go. Gradually they were overtaken and destroyed by Dynamon's force--the last Martian being caught just at the upper mouth of the pit.

* * * * *

Dynamon quickly gathered his men about him while he took stock of the situation in the valley. The three Carriers were in the same position as they were before, but there were no Earth-soldiers left standing. A little circle of fallen bodies offered mute testimony to the hopeless battle put up by the force of three decuria which had made that ill-fated sortie from the Carrier. Now, the Martians from both of the red ships--excluding, of course, the group that had been cut to pieces in the pit--were gathered in a body near the Earth Carrier. Dynamon guessed that they were waiting to see what the Earth people were going to do next. They would soon find out, the centurion thought grimly. Even though there were probably close to two hundred of the evil little creatures down there, they would be no match for the brawny humans insulated against the Photo-Atomic Ray.

Swiftly, Dynamon formulated a plan of action. His first consideration was to try and seize both Martian Carriers. If possible, they must be prevented from leaving the ground and carrying back to Mars the warning that, at last, the humans had found a defense against the Ray. With that in mind, the centurion divided his little force in two. One decuria with its decurion he put under Mortoch, and the other, he commanded himself. Each group was to strike boldly at one of the Martian ships, Mortoch, the nearer one; himself, the farther one.

Dynamon issued his commands by signs, hoping to remain unnoticed by the enemy if he refrained from using the radio-phone. But as he led his group off along the hillside, a sudden activity among the Martians in the valley told him that he had been sighted. They came streaming across the valley floor toward the heights on a shallow crescent, each wing spreading to perform an enveloping movement.

What an unpleasant surprise the nasty little devils are going to get, thought Dynamon, and he switched on his radio-phone. "Follow me, now, on the dead run!"

He dug his toes into the yielding gray sand and ran along the hillside, bending low into the wind. It was heavy going, but the humans were able to make faster progress than their enemies because of their greater weight. Dynamon saw that he and his group were outrunning the Martians and would probably reach their objective sooner. Two thoughts arose in his mind to worry him. One was, that the Martians inside the red ships might lock their doors and take off before he and Mortoch, respectively, could reach them. The other was the fear that Borion, inside the Earth-Carrier, not knowing of the new defense against the Ray, would sally out in a desperate attempt to save--as he might think--the two isolated detachments of humans.

However, Dynamon reflected, those were eventualities over which he had no control. All he could do under the circumstances was pray for good luck.

* * * * *

A glance down into the valley told him that he and his little force were abreast of the Earth-Carrier by now, with a half a mile still to go to reach the Martian ship. The Martians, running parallel, were falling behind a little. Rapping out a command into his transmitter, Dynamon changed his direction slightly, and swung downhill on a direct line with the red ship. At the same time, he and his men readjusted their gravity-control so that their speed was almost doubled. Away to their left, the Martian horde was dropping behind. Dynamon gave an involuntary shout of triumph. He and his party was going to win the race.

As the little knot of speeding humans approached within a hundred yards of the Martian Carrier, another cheer broke from Dynamon's lips. The door at the side of the Carrier swung open and a score of little creatures carrying the once-dreaded black cones tumbled out. The Martians inside the ship, far from running away, were coming out to fight--mistakingly confident that the twelve humans were at their mercy!

Quickly, Dynamon issued orders that two of his men should immediately penetrate the inside of the Carrier and seize the control-room, while the rest stayed outside and engaged the Martian warriors. Then, panting for breath, but none the less confident, the decuria closed in on the Martians.

They were within twenty-five yards of the dwarf-like little creatures before the Martians discovered that something was amiss with the Photo-Atomic Ray. The ugly little men hesitated in momentary dismay, and then started to make a dash for the inside of the Carrier. But by that time, it was too late.

The twelve humans, clothed in their life-preserving auras, swept down on the Martians like avenging angels. All the pent-up hatred against this diabolically cruel enemy now found release. At last, the Martian superiority in weapons was broken. Dynamon and his men waded implacably into the terrified little ogres and slew them without mercy. The whole business was over in less than two minutes.

Without the loss of a man, Dynamon had annihilated the defenders of the Carrier, and two of his soldiers were inside in possession of the control-room. There remained now the job of handling the hundred or so Martians who were moving over the gray sand toward his victorious decuria.

But this force of the enemy had realized that something was radically wrong. They were no longer running, but, in fact, were slowing up to a halt about fifty yards away. Dynamon swung an arm and began to walk toward them. The black cones came up, pointing, all along the long line of Martians. Dynamon's men fanned out on either side of him, walking forward slowly, inexorably.

The line of Martians wavered uncertainly, and then began to fall back in terrified confusion, as the humans remained unharmed by the Ray. Dynamon's voice crackled in nine sets of ear-phones, and the decuria lunged forward. In a moment, they were in the midst of a panic-stricken mass of scurrying Martians. Again, the soldiers from Earth slew pitilessly, until in a short while, fifty-odd of the harried little creatures lay dead. The rest were scattered in headlong flight over the valley.

* * * * *

The business was accomplished none too soon. The thing which Dynamon had feared might happen earlier, happened now. A force of humans, unprotected by tridium, emerged from the big gray Carrier and hastened toward Dynamon. A few minutes earlier and these men would have been mowed down by the Ray. The centurion sighed with relief and ordered the newcomers back to the Cosmos Carrier.

The danger was over.

Twenty minutes later, Dynamon had joined forces again with Mortoch's detachment and was marching back to the mouth of the pit, where Keltry and Thamon were waiting. The past hour had seen a complete and sweeping triumph for the humans. Mortoch's attack on the other Martian ship had been as successful as Dynamon's. Now, both of the Martian Carriers were captured, and their crews and warriors cut to pieces. And, all this had been accomplished with the loss of but one man. One of Mortoch's soldiers had fallen and dropped his lump of tridium. The man had instantly died under the Photo-Atomic Ray.

There remained only one more piece of business to conclude successfully the expedition to Saturn, and Dynamon set about it promptly. Once again he led the way down the pit to the Nether World.

There was great excitement at the bottom of the shaft. The Saturnians were disposing of the bodies of the Martians who had fallen in the first onslaught when Mortoch had proven the efficacy of tridium. And, as Dynamon landed among them, closely followed by Thamon, Keltry and the soldiers, the Saturnians crowded around in a condition bordering on hysteria. They had never before seen Martians, or even dreamed of their existence, so it was not to be wondered at that the primitive humans of the Nether World were excited when the sudden, fierce combat broke out almost in their midst. With the greatest difficulty, Dynamon quieted them down enough so that they heard and complied with his request to be taken to their Queen.

"Queen Diana," he said directly, "in your kingdom, you have any quantity--thousands of tons--of this luminous rock which we have identified as tridium. This substance is the one thing which can save the people of the Earth from the death-ray of the Martians. Will you give me your permission to carry away some of these rocks back to Earth, so that our armies can defend themselves against our enemies?"

The little Queen gave Dynamon a long languorous look.

"If you stay here and be my King," she answered, at length, "I will permit your people to carry away as many of the rocks as they want."

Dynamon's heart sank. He had hoped that Queen Diana had got over that idea. What was he going to do?

"Well, Queen Diana," he said, slowly, trying frantically to think of some way out, "I can't tell you how flattered I am at your proposal, but I don't see how I can accept it."

"Why not?" the queen demanded, imperiously.

* * * * *

Dynamon shook his head helplessly. He was trying to think of some tactful way of telling this spoiled little woman that his heart already belonged to Keltry.

"Well, perhaps you have noticed," he began, "that someone else on this expedition has a--a claim--er--"

"Who do you mean?" the Queen interrupted, "The tall, dark man? The one called Mortoch?"

"Mortoch?" said Dynamon wonderingly.

"Yes, isn't that what you're trying to tell me? Mortoch! That's very interesting," said the Queen dreamily, "Come to think of it, I _had_ noticed that he looked at me very intensely."

A great light dawned on Dynamon. The Queen was jumping to a quite different set of conclusions. He had tried to tell her that he was in love with Keltry, and she thought he was telling her that Mortoch was in love with her, the Queen!

"I think that is very generous of you, Dynamon," said the Queen with a brilliant smile. "You are standing aside in favor of Mortoch because in your eyes, his bravery in facing the Martians gives him a greater claim on my hand."

Dynamon nodded wisely.

"He is a very handsome man," the Queen went on, looking off into space, "perhaps you're right."

"He is just outside," said Dynamon rising. "Let me bring him in to you."

Before the little Queen could say anything more, Dynamon walked briskly out to the mouth of the cave and hailed Mortoch.

"I remember hearing you say," he said, as the Chief Decurion came up to him, "that you wouldn't mind staying here with Queen Diana. Well, it seems that you are to have your wish. The Queen is determined to marry one of us, and right at this moment, she is inclining toward you as a husband. I think it's a fine idea."

Mortoch turned startled eyes on the centurion. Then he began to grin.

"Is that a command?" he asked.

"It is," Dynamon replied.

"I could do lots worse," said Mortoch, "although I'm liable to get homesick now and then."

"Don't forget," said Dynamon, "you'll be King of Saturn, or at least, of this part of Saturn. Go on inside, now, she's waiting for you."

Not long afterwards, Queen Diana, her eyes shining, appeared at the entrance to her cave. Her hand rested lightly on Mortoch's arm, and she announced to her people that at last she was taking a husband and giving the Nether World of Saturn, a King. As cheer after cheer went up from the bearded Saturnians, Dynamon bent over the Queen's hand and kissed it. He, then, received gracious permission to take away as much tridium as he needed.

* * * * *

Keltry stood between Dynamon and Thamon and the three of them stared into the bow periscope screens in the control-room of the Carrier. Borion came over and joined them.

"Well, there she is," said the navigator, fondly. "There was a time back there on Saturn when I kind of doubted that any of us would ever see her again."

The chief image in the screens was a glowing sphere about the size of a man's head. It was Earth. Already, the watchers in the control-room could make out the outlines of the continents.

"But at that, I guess we got off lightly," continued Borion, "We lost thirty-nine men--including Mortoch--but just think what we're bringing back! We've got enough tridium in these three Carriers to divide up among ten thousand men. I was afraid we might have trouble with so much of the stuff--afraid it might affect the magnets."

"No, it's a curiously inert substance," said Thamon, "I suppose that's why it can absorb the terrific shock of the Photo-Atomic Ray so easily. What's the news from Headquarters, Dynamon?"

"It's pretty sketchy," said the centurion, "Argallum was afraid to say too much for fear the Martians might be able to decode the message. But it looks as if we are going to be just about in the nick of time. The Martian invasion began ten months ago, just about the time we were leaving Saturn. Even though they came without warning in thousands of ships, our people managed to beat them off for quite a while. Some cities were destroyed, but Copia wasn't touched--too well guarded. But then, even though our people maintained, and still do maintain, superiority in the air, those Martian devils found some remote desert spot unguarded and landed thousands of their men. They were all equipped with the Ray, of course, and our land forces simply couldn't stand up against them. They've been driving steadily ever since, and right now, they're within seventy miles of Copia."

"Whew!" gasped Borion.

"I should say we _are_ in the nick of time," said Keltry.

"Heavens!" exclaimed Thamon, "I shudder to think what would happen to the World right now, Keltry, if you hadn't fallen down that pit!"

"That's right," laughed Dynamon.

Just then, a communications man walked into the control-room and handed Dynamon a message.

He read it avidly.

"That's good news," the centurion remarked, looking up from the piece of paper, "Argallum is sending a heavy convoy to meet us. How soon will we be landing, Borion?"

"Well, we should hit the top of the stratosphere in less than an hour," the navigator replied. "From there on down--at reduced speed--will probably take another two hours."

"In that case," said Dynamon, "I think we'd better shut down on all conversation. Even Argallum doesn't know what we're bringing back--I'm taking no chances on having our secret get out to the enemy. He only knows that we are returning with two captured Martian Carriers. So, make your dispositions, Borion, because in five minutes I'm going to order everyone on all three ships to landing stations."

* * * * *

The next three hours were tense ones for the returning expedition. Even though a convoy had been promised, Dynamon was apprehensive about possible attacks by the Martians, who, he was sure, must know something of what was going on. But as it worked out, a perfect cloud of gray Cosmos Carriers came out to meet the voyagers from Saturn, and Dynamon was able to set his ships down at Vanadium Field without mishap.

A heavy guard was thrown around the precious cargoes, and the young centurion was whisked away to Government City.

"What did you find?" The Commander-in-Chief's face was haggard.

"We found tridium," said Dynamon, "tons of it. We had an opportunity to test it, and it proved to be a complete defense against the Ray."

"How difficult is it to get at?"

"Not difficult at all," said Dynamon, "we brought back enough to equip nearly ten thousand men."

"Heaven be praised!" said Argallum fervently, "We might pull out of this situation yet. Those devils have been sweeping everything before them. We cut off their communications with our air power but that didn't stop them. They've been living off the land, and they're so powerful that they've been able to overrun territory at will."

Dynamon glanced at his watch. "It is almost noon," he said, "It will take just one counter-attack to break through their line and roll it up in both directions. If you throw attack-units forward as fast as they can be equipped with tridium, you will have the Martians in a rout before sundown."

And it was so.

Dynamon stood beside Argallum two hours later, on a little knoll sixty miles out of Copia. A wide plain stretched before their eyes and across its width, a beaten, discouraged army of humans gave ground slowly before hordes of tiny, malevolent creatures from another planet. As the two men watched, a fresh column of Earth-soldiers issued forth from a woods in the center of the plain. There was a curious greenish shimmer surrounding this new column--a will-o'-the-wisp, mirage-like quality--and it advanced without hesitation straight into the serried ranks of the terrible Martians.

"Great Heavens!" cried Argallum, "They're walking right up to them! And not a man is down! Look! The Martians are reeling back! Our voltage bombs are killing them like flies!"

Dynamon turned away from the scene of carnage with a curious smile. He knew that Argallum in his gratitude would probably want to throw every conceivable honor and promotion at him. For bringing three Carrier loads of tridium back from Saturn, he, Dynamon, would very likely become a World-wide hero. And yet, he reflected, it was a feat which could never have been accomplished if it hadn't been for a series of unrelated incidents. If Keltry hadn't stowed away, she couldn't have fallen down the pit, thus leading to the discovery of Queen Diana's Nether World. If Mortoch had not rebelled and tried to kill him with a voltage bomb--. If he hadn't happened to touch the rock with his back--.

Dynamon turned and looked out on to the battle field where the victorious Earth-soldiers in their tridium-auras were vengefully slaughtering the hideous Martians. And he thought of the incident which had to precede all the other incidents so that he could bring back the tridium. That was the incident which had occurred hundreds of years before, when a man named Leonard Bolton had built a "space ship" and had traveled to Saturn in it, breaking through the burnt-out crust into the Nether World, boring the long hole with his clumsy medieval Carrier. That was the hole that Keltry had fallen into.

Dynamon shook his head. Leonard Bolton had built his "space ship" in the year 1956, the last year but one of the long series of frightful wars, in which the divided peoples of the World tried to destroy one another--and very nearly succeeded.