Part 2
The bat came down on his tail like another plane attacking. Flint dove straight at the planetoid. Behind him, Karen Vaun worked the pump madly, Hudson and Leggett stood by helplessly, staring up at the hairy face that grew larger every second above them.
Flint held his power dive till the last possible second. The planetoid changed from a globe to a flat surface. Trees separated from the green mass of jungle. Each leaf sprang up separate and distinct. Close behind the plane, the bat's mouth gaped open. Flint jammed his rise rockets in.
The trees came up with a sickening wobble, slanted back and down, then away. The plane brushed the branches as it zoomed skyward. Behind the plane, the bat twisted against its tremendous momentum, cut a wide swath through the tree tops. When it flapped up laboriously, circling, searching for them again, the plane was well beyond sight of its weak eyes.
Watching through the glass, Flint saw it circle higher, finally sail away toward the Ring. And as his fingers relaxed on the controls, he found himself laughing.
He headed the plane back toward the spot where the bat had interrupted their course. "Somebody keep pumping that jet," he said. "I was supposed to meet a fellow in another ship on the way out. He'll take you back to Saturn. I'm going after that bat."
* * * * *
Karen Vaun prevailed on her men to take over the pump. She came and stood behind Flint, holding tightly to the back of his chair. Her lips opened but it was a moment before any words came out. Finally, "You're going _after_ that thing!"
"Lady," Flint said, "if you knew how long I've been hunting one of those critters, you'd know how quick I want to get rid of you and get on its tail." He looked back at her, grinned. He had too much to do to be angry now. Get back, get his big guns in the plane, then find that bat. You couldn't miss something that size. Shoot him up a little. Not much--wing him. That circus wanted him alive. One million bucks!
The kidnapping, of course, was all off now. He felt almost friendly toward the woman. "You were a mighty big help on that pump, Miss Vaun," he said. "You're braver than I thought." It was the first kind word--or thought--he'd managed about her since they'd met.
"What--_was_ it?"
"Space bat. It's a kind of giant bat. Nobody knows where they come from--somewhere out in space. One comes in every year or so. It feeds on what wild life it can find, then sails back out into the darkness. They kill off almost as many animals as your fur hunters--" And this last, he regretted as soon as he'd said it. The woman's eyes misted, strangely enough; her lower lip trembled. And Flint frowned, suddenly amazed, as he looked at her.
Karen Vaun looked like an entirely different person. The office pallor was gone from her face; it was rouged with excitement. Her prim knot of hair had lost its pins and tumbled to her shoulders. Her whole body as she stood there, still breathing heavily, had taken on a slim vibrance that belied the memory of her former rigid dignity.
The real miracle was her eyes--her glasses lay broken on the floor. Her eyes were soft blue, bright as a spring morning now.
Flint shook his head in astonishment. "When you get back," he said, "take a look in a mirror and think things over. You've been wasting your time behind a desk." He turned back to the controls, and as he turned Greeno's plane appeared ahead and pulled up alongside.
"Well, here's where you get a new pilot." He'd take Greeno's plane. Greeno could limp back in this one and rent another one to follow him up. Flint was so sure of his bat money he wasn't worrying about the cost of anything any more.
He idled while Greeno's ship, skillfully, without a bump, hooked into the little clamps on the hull outside. A bell clanged--signal to unlock the port--and he got up, reached for the wheel on the safety door.
But Karen--it was odd that he didn't seem to think of her as Miss Vaun any more--reached out and stopped his hand on the wheel. "Mr. Flint," she said softly, "take me with you--to hunt the bat."
Flint stared at her, not believing her words. Hudson took her arm. "Now, Karen. You've had a very trying experience. You should--"
She jerked away from him. "Please let me go, Mr. Flint. This means more to me than you know. I haven't forgotten what you said about my not being a real woman. You're right. I've been nothing but a walking adding machine and I--"
"Look," Flint tried to put a stop to it, "if you'd let yourself go you'd be a pretty decent human being, mighty pretty without your glasses." He spun the wheel out of her grasp. "But I've got work to do now."
"Please!" she cried. "If--" But she never finished that; she stepped back from the door quickly as the man in the space suit came in from the other ship--Greeno, taking no chances on future identification. Wrinkled like a prune, the uninflated suit covered his body completely; only his eyes were visible through their glass slit.
"It's all off, Greeno," Flint said. "We ran across a bat on the way out! It's headed toward the Ring. Take these people back to Saturn and--" But the man in the space suit had whipped out his hand, caught Karen Vaun by the wrist.
It was only then that Flint remembered Greeno couldn't hear him, not only couldn't hear him because he was deaf but couldn't read his thoughts because he was surrounded by the metal hull of the ship. He stepped over and grabbed him by the shoulder, pointed to the girl, shook his head violently. "Cut it out! Skip it! It's all off!" he mouthed, hoping Greeno might read his lips.
"Who is it?" Hudson and Leggett looked on nervously. "What's he trying to do?"
Flint started to explain, but then how could he explain that he'd planned to kidnap Karen Vaun and changed his mind. He continued his sign language at Greeno.
Karen struggled, trying to free herself. "I don't understand! Stop him!"
Finally, Flint threw an arm around Greeno's neck. There was nothing else to do. Hudson grabbed Greeno's arm, tried to pry loose his grasp on the girl.
The wiry Venusian twisted out of Flint's arm before he could get a head-lock grip. Coming up with his other hand, he threw an uppercut at Hudson. The lawyer saw it coming, jerked his head back like a turtle. But Flint didn't see it coming.
The full force of Greeno's swing caught him exactly on the point of his chin.
The room spun wildly. Then it dissolved into blackness.
* * * * *
When Flint came to, he was lying on the floor. Hudson stood over him. He had acquired Flint's ice pistol, seemed prepared to use it at any moment.
As Flint sat up and looked around, Leggett said, "Just a moment and I'll let you in," and got up from the controls where he'd been talking into the radio. He went over to the door, twirled the wheel and Flint realized what he'd thought was his own head ringing was the safety bell. Through the glass he saw a slim light cruiser lying alongside where Greeno's ship had been. On its gleaming hull were the letters SP--the Stellar Patrol.
What were they doing here? Flint grabbed one of the seats, pulled himself up.
"Stay where you are!" Hudson waggled the ice gun threateningly. Then the door opened and three red-uniformed patrolmen crowded into the cabin, jet pistols leveled, eyes searching the room quickly.
"This him?" One of the patrolmen, blue-chinned and beefy, sized Flint up.
"I took his gun," Hudson said. He handed the ice pistol to the nearest patrolman as if he was glad to get rid of its responsibility. The group stood around Flint as if he were an animal they'd caught.
"The boys are on the way out to the Ring," the big patrolman said. "There's several billion planetoids out there, though--like looking for a needle in a haystack, isn't it, Flint?"
Flint was getting his thinking up to date now. He must have been out half an hour or so. Hudson and Leggett must have radioed the Patrol, told them the story. Of course they suspected him, the way he'd talked to Greeno. And now he was accused of something he'd tried his best to stop. Poetic justice had caught him red-handed.
"You were the bright boy who dreamed up the whole thing, weren't you, Flint?" the patrolman continued. "Headquarters works fast. We got a report on you on the way out here. We know you had reasons for wanting to get rid of Miss Vaun. We know all about your little talk with the Governor this evening; his secretary heard the whole thing."
"I'm sure he knew the man in the space suit," Leggett said. "He told us he was going to meet a man here and when he came in he called him 'Greeno.'"
And by now, Flint thought, Greeno had taken the girl back to his planetoid, following the plan exactly without the faintest idea it had misfired. If Greeno could only pick up thoughts at this distance! Flint cursed silently. Well, there were two things to be done and done fast. Get word to Greeno, somehow; tell him to get the girl back to Saturn. And get after that bat. He couldn't let this mess throw a hitch into something he'd been trying to do all these years.
The easiest way to straighten Greeno out was by radio; good thing he'd taken that set out to him. "Now, listen," he said, "I haven't got time to go into a lot of explanations. A space bat's showed up in the Ring; it's worth a lot of money to me. Let me get to the radio and I'll have Miss Vaun safely back on Saturn in an hour. It's all a mistake. When I get through bat hunting I'll clear up the whole business."
The big patrolman laughed. "He'll be glad to help us out when he gets time; that's a good one." Then he stopped laughing, took a step toward Flint. "You're going to tell us where this Greeno took the girl. Right now."
Flint saw a free-for-all shaping up. There seemed to be no other way out. He got ready for trouble, but he didn't think it was coming so quick.
Apparently the big patrolman was used to getting his information the hard way. His hand shot out in a short arc and swatted Flint across the mouth. "Talk!"
Flint staggered back, got his balance, and let go at the beefy face under the red cap. One of the other patrolmen caught his arm. The third one brought the barrel of his ray gun down on his head. Flint sat down on the jump seat.
"Where's Greeno's hideout?" the big one said. "You know every planetoid in the Ring. Where'd Greeno take her?"
Flint felt the bump on his head. "You and I got a lot of other things to discuss now, Fatty."
The beefy one stepped away from the door. "Okay. Go cut our rockets off, Mike," he said to one of his men who stood there, twirling Flint's ice gun on his forefinger. "This guy wants to play with us. We'll have to give him the air treatment."
As the one with the ice gun opened the door and went into the police plane, the other stuck his pistol in Flint's side. "Get up." And Flint knew he was really in for it now. He'd heard of this. Third degree? This was the _fourth_ degree!
* * * * *
A ship had two doors, the inside one and one opening outside the hull. Between the two was a narrow air space. It was used as an air lock in which one could return to normal pressure before entering the ship from some thin-aired world. If you put a man in there and turned the pressure wide open--
"This makes even a Venusian talk," the big patrolman told Hudson and Leggett. "When the pressure gets up around two hundred and their ear drums start cracking, they get mighty conversational."
When the patrolman who had gone into the police plane returned, he held the door open and the pistol in Flint's side pushed him toward it.
But at the door, the radio stopped them. The lawyer had left the speaker on.
"_Calling Saturn Relay Station. Relay to Earth, to K. V. Vaun Fur Fashions, Inc., New York City. Message as follows: Miss Vaun has been kidnapped. She is held for one million dollars ransom. Forward to Saturn by tonight's Space Express one million dollars in raw platinum. Saturn Express Agency will be informed later how to deliver it. End of message._"
The big patrolman turned to Flint standing beside the door. "Pretty smart, except that it didn't work." Then to the fellow holding the pistol at Flint's back: "Throw him in and squirt the air. I'll call Saturn and tell 'em to forget that relay message."
But once again the radio stopped them.
"_Look! At the door!_" The voice was sharp and high. It was Karen Vaun's.
"_Keep still! Don't let it hear us!_" Greeno again.
"What in hell--" the patrolman breathed.
"_It's reaching in!_" Karen's voice, a terrified whisper. "_Look out for its claws!_"
Two explosions rang out--Greeno's old bullet gun; he didn't have an ice pistol. Greeno yelled "_Get back!_" There was fright in even his mechanical voice as a dull crash merged with his words.
Then there was instant silence. Something had smashed Greeno's radio set.
"It's the bat!" Flint said. "It's got them cornered! We've got to get out there!" Somehow, now, the thought of that thing reaching into the door, clawing at Karen Vaun, pressed back against the wall, made him forget all about his plans for capturing the bat, forget he was under arrest for kidnapping. "Let's go--I'll take you to them!"
"It's another of his tricks," one of the patrolmen said. "Trying to lead us into a trap of some kind."
"Listen, you stupid fools," Flint almost yelled, "don't you understand? That bat's out there. They haven't a rabbit's chance. We haven't got time to talk about it."
The big fellow winked at the others. "If it's a space bat," he said, "we'll need help. I'll call for some of the boys to go with us, with some bigger guns--for the bat or for any little ambush you might have planned."
And Flint saw he was only wasting time. He leaped forward and caught the man full in the face with his fist. The blow sprawled the patrolman backward against the controls. Before he could get up, Flint was on him again, struggling for his gun. If he could get out of here, get that police plane--
He got his hand on the gun. Twisted. But it had taken too long.
He felt the hard jab of one of the patrolmen's pistols against his back. "Get off him!"
Flint stepped back slowly, hands hanging limp, ready for the slightest opening. But it didn't come.
The big man got off the controls, holding his hand over a nose that was probably broken. "Put him in that air lock," he ordered. "Give him enough pressure to cave his ribs in!"
The inside door was open. Flint was shoved into the lock. The door clanged shut behind him.
* * * * *
Around the wall in the narrow air chamber was a line of tiny holes. From these came a shrill hissing like a nest of snakes. The pointer of the pressure gauge on the wall trembled, then slowly moved across the dial.
The chamber was six feet high, three feet wide. The air holes were near the ceiling beside Flint's ears. But he didn't stand there listening to the rising pressure. A moment ago, one of the patrolmen had passed through here. Immediately, he tried the other door, the one leading outside where the police ship was hooked on, but it was locked now.
The doors of a space-ship's safety chamber worked together. When one was locked, the other locked automatically. But when one door was unlocked, the other was also unlocked. He leaned against the outside door, his mind racing. If he could stay conscious against the air pressure--if he could slip through this outside door when they opened the inner one--he'd be in the police plane--
The pressure gauge was calibrated in pounds. With each mark the pointer climbed, he shuddered. He jammed his fingers into his ears, closed his eyes, swallowed constantly. His face turned white under rivulets of sweat.
His shirt was quickly soaked through, his big arms wet and glistening. Swiftly he felt his strength leaving him. The pointer on the gauge quivered at the hundred mark, slowly climbed higher.
Flint found his knees sagging. His heart pounded with the exertion of standing up. His body had turned to lead. And in his mind was the terrible fear that he'd black out completely, be lying there on the floor when the other door unlocked and gave him his only chance.
But he _couldn't_ black out! He had to keep on his feet! He was Karen's and Greeno's only chance.
The pointer stood at a hundred and fifty. His ribs felt as if steel bands were being tightened around his chest. He couldn't breathe. He knew he couldn't stand much more.
He turned his head toward the inside door and with all the lung power he could find yelled, "Let me out! I'll talk!"
They heard him. The whistling in his ears ceased for one second, then returned, but now it was the sucking sound of air going out. He got hold of the outer door handle, leaned his weight back against it. His glazed eyes were on the pressure dial. He knew the men in the ship were watching its counterpart.
The pointer came back around slowly and each jump brought blessed relief as the pressure slackened. It was like a tremendous weight being lifted from every square inch of his body.
When the pointer hit zero, he heard the lock click in the door behind him and the door against which he was pulling swung suddenly open. He almost fell backward, then managed to struggle forward through the door.
"Stop him! He's trying to get into our ship!"
He heard feet clattering through the chamber after him. He slammed the door against a beefy blurred face. Stumbling through the double doors of the police plane's air chamber, he managed to close and lock them against his pursuers. Then he staggered over to the control panel.
He cut the switch, pressed the starter. The jets roared behind him as he shot away from his own plane.
* * * * *
The jets had left a vapor trail miles long before he could look back. He saw the flare of his own ship as it started in pursuit but he knew they'd never overtake him with the busted fuel pump and he wasn't worrying now about their following his trail later with a blast analyzer. He wasn't worrying about anything that would happen later. All he was thinking about now was Greeno and the girl.
His own ship was no longer in sight when he swept into the outskirts of the Ring. He remembered to step up the air pressure to avoid the bends. Then, a little grimly, he smiled. There on the control panel was his ice pistol where the patrolman had left it. He stuck it in his empty holster. His luck was turning.
Whipping in and out of the rough-hewn worlds, the police clock had ticked off only ten minutes when in the distance ahead he could see the sagging cable between the two little globes that were Greeno's domain. He remembered Greeno's words that very day, "You, my friend of many seasons." He remembered the way Karen Vaun looked with her hair trailing on her shoulders, her blue eyes....
If only it wasn't too late.
He flashed over the twin planetoids, circled around their far side. It was easy to tell the bat had been there. For miles around, the jungle was criss-crossed with splintered tree tops where its wing tips had brushed them like a hurricane. Then, coming round to the spot where Greeno's shack was, Flint saw the real scene of violence. What had been a small clearing in the brush, not even large enough to land on, was an area big as a football field. And in the center of it lay the bat.
The thing lay there like a blotch of spilled ink, grotesque and horrible. It was using horny claws on the tips of its wings to slam Greeno's space-ship house back and forth like a nut. Greeno and Karen must be inside.
Flint streaked down, thumbs trembling on the triggers of the police plane's guns. He held his screaming dive till he was within yards of the thing. Then into its back he poured his stream of liquid fire. Kicking the controls, he zoomed away, head craned back to watch the result.
The bat came up like a volcano erupting. There was a wide furrow burned along its black hairy back. Trees bent hundreds of yards away under the beat of its wings. Rising high in the greenish twilight, it sailed over the planetoid, searching for its attacker.
Flint circled higher still. Far below he saw two small figures crawl out of the house, stare upward. Karen and Greeno were safe, so far.
Banking over, looking down at them, Flint's eyes left the bat for a second. In that second the bat's eyes found him. It was upon him with the speed of a glance. It came on, unmindful of the jet blast in its face, its hair singeing like a grass fire. And though Flint threw the ship into every contortion he knew--full throttle five, bullet roll, reverse jet dodge, everything--the bat stayed on his tail, following his every maneuver as if it knew what he was going to do in advance.
Its wings worked in a dark blur, trying to gain the few yards to close its pile-driver jaws upon the plane. Slowly, inexorably, the space between the beast and the plane narrowed. Then Flint played his final card, the same trick he'd used with the bat before.
He dived for the planetoid, straight down, holding it till his nerves screamed with the wind, the bat right behind him. Then, almost in the tree tops, he pulled out. He stared back over his shoulder. If the bat plunged on into the jungle, if it floundered there for one minute, the plane's guns might be able to burn a wing off. He watched the bat twisting out of its dive, tree tops splaying.
Then it happened.
* * * * *
A wisp in the view-plate, a hair-line growing, rushing at the nose of the plane. Before Flint turned in time to see it, the cable that stretched between the twin planetoids had been struck by the plane's nose, had screeched along its side in a shower of sparks. Then it caught. A solid jolt.
The little hooks along the hull, the device for boarding another ship, had caught the cable, jerked it free from one of the planetoids and torn out by the roots the tree to which the other end was anchored.
When Flint again got the plane under control, it mushed along, weighed down by a ton of steel cable that had a full-grown tree dangling on its far end.
Flint's first thought was of the bat. He glanced around frantically. But the cable had stopped the plane so abruptly and the bat had swept back up so fast, it was now well beyond the range of its weak eyes. And as Flint watched, it apparently forgot the plane, glided across the jungle like a great shadow, headed back toward Greeno and the girl.
Pressing his eye to the filterscope, Flint brought them up close, standing in the wreckage of the trees, scanning the sky. They didn't know the bat was on the way back, coming in low now behind them.
"_Run!_" Flint yelled the word as if they could hear him across the five miles between them. Standing there beside Greeno, Karen Vaun's hair glistened in the twilight, her eyes looking right at him, almost as if she could see him. Flint beat his fists on the control panel helplessly.
Then they heard the rush of the bat's wings behind them. They whirled, stood there frozen before the gigantic creature hurtling at them. Then, too late to run back for the house, they fled toward the woods. And the woods was just where the bat wanted them.
Flint knew he had to get there now. He had to do something quick. The bat started systematically flattening the trees, searching for them in the terrifying way it always hunted its prey. Four times the size of an elephant, the winged monster splintered like matchsticks hundred-foot high mahogany and ironwood trees.
Flint's hands jerked the plane's controls as if he could hurl it bodily forward, dragging the weight of cable and tree behind him. But the ship was now a winged snail. And when he _did_ get there, he knew there wasn't a chance of getting the bat in his sights. He couldn't outmaneuver it any more. And there was no time now to land and do what he could afoot with a pistol.