Part 5

The water above the cleft grew streaky with light as the monsters abandoned the tenuous remnants of the lure to follow a trail of fresh blood. The noru gibbered in horror as he dodged along the rocky bottom.

"Let's go!" Barry barked. "_Straight up!_"

It was a long, tiring swim. At last they floated just below the surface.

"Can you find the colony?" Barry asked.

"We go to the nearest shore, near Last City," Xintel corrected. "We are not safe here over deep water."

They swam again, this time horizontally, guided once more by Xintel's compass sense. Once Barry raised his head, but all he could see was a narrow circle of rippled water upon which the ever-present mists pressed heavily. A slight rosy glow overhead, dim and diffuse, was the only indication of the sun.

Finally the girl stopped. "We are almost to the edge of the Above," she said.

Barry put his head up again but still could see nothing but water and mist. They swam a few strokes more, and then he and the girl lowered their feet to a bottom of soft mud.

When he stood up in the neck-deep water and emptied his lungs there was an interval of wracking coughing and gasping. But then he found with elation that he was breathing without too much difficulty. His practice sessions in the cavern were paying off.

Xintel too stood up and gasped in the warm, stench-filled air, floundering beside the taller Earthman as they waded toward a dimly seen bank ahead. The water had shoaled to her waist, when without warning, she staggered and collapsed.

Barry caught her as she fell, and with Earth habits returning, cradled her in his arms with her face above water.

"Xintel! What's wrong?"

She stirred in his arms and her eyes opened.

"Put me down," she requested.

Then she noticed the frightened expression on his face.

"I'll be all right soon," she assured him. "Just--tired. And air--too suddenly."

Tenderly he laid her in the shallow water.

"Sure you're all right?" he asked solicitously.

She nodded.

For a few minutes he waited beside her, thinking of the colony. He understood now Komso's reference to the beasts of the marshlands overturning the houses of the demons, and the priest's plan of battle. His lure would attract the monsters with which the colony had already had trouble. And when the colonists were forced outside by the hypervirulent bacteria of the Unseen, death would strike.

Without a warning the unsuspecting colony would be doomed, but without Xintel's guidance he could not reach them to give that warning.

"Barry." The Venusian girl's voice was still weak and unsteady. "The Place Of Change is on this shore. Go look at it. Perhaps you, with a different mind and a different knowledge, could--"

"You sure you'll be all right alone?"

She was sure, and finally Barry left her, emptied his lungs once again, and floundered up the muddy bank.

* * * * *

His body felt heavy without the support of the water to which it had become accustomed, but it was good to be walking like a true Earthman again. He plodded inland, cautiously forcing his way through the thick swamp vegetation. The ground underfoot was a tangle of roots, slime and jagged stones.

Last City was a disappointment. Nothing was left but a few scarcely discernible mounds almost hidden by the swamp jungle. It was impossible to tell even what sort of buildings once existed.

He was ready to turn back when a shift in the mists disclosed the Place Of Change.

It was a domed building, huge even by the engineering standards of Earth, and something done in ancient times had prevented the jungle from encroaching upon it. Half submerged in mud, tilted where the ground beneath it had softened and shifted, the great hemispherical shell nevertheless remained intact. Barry hastened forward, found a circular opening, evidently once a window high on the structure but now at ground level, and after a glance at the dimness within stooped and entered.

He had not known what to expect--Xintel had told him only that the Place Of Change was irreparably ruined--but certainly nothing so bleak and disheartening. There was nothing but mud within the great building. Whatever machinery or equipment had been used to change the Venusians to water-breathers had vanished without a trace. Barry's shoulders sagged as he turned back toward the window.

But then the engineering training of his years on Earth reasserted itself, and he wondered of what material the building had been constructed to withstand the ravages of the savage environment of the Venus. With the flat of one hand he brushed at the greenish, clinging slime that covered the walls. Etched into the wall were strange symbols arranged in an orderly fashion. Writing, obviously done by the Ancients.

It was possible that the inscriptions included the technical data on which the Place had been based.

He ran to another section of wall and wiped at it, then at random to a third spot. More writing. It meant nothing to him, but in the colony there were specialists who might--

His chest began to burn, bringing his mind back to his present situation. There was nothing he could do for the present, and he must warn the colony. There was no telling how far Komso's plans had progressed. Perhaps the attack had already started.

He hurried out through the window, slid and stumbled through the swamp, plunged into the water. Xintel was sitting up.

"Can you find the colony?" he asked.

She nodded, "Far along the shore, that way, I can feel the presence of life. Your kind of life."

"That's it! Let's go!"

They followed the shoreline, and as the minutes passed a happy excitement grew in the Earthman at the prospect of seeing his own kind again. Xintel was silent.

When they came to the opening of the slough, Xintel pointed.

"That way. Not far."

Barry shook his head vigorously. "They'd shoot first and look later," he explained. "Particularly after Komso's first raid. I'll have to approach overland."

Half a mile beyond the slough a huge tree had fallen and was lying half in the swamp and half in the water.

"This should be far enough," he decided. "Wait here for me. And be careful."

He stuck his head out, studying the treacherous, mist-shrouded swamp he must cross, then ducked under again. The Venusian girl looked at him for an instant. Her hands moved as though to detain him.

"Good-bye Barry."

He kissed her and held her close.

"It's not good-bye," he promised. "I'll come back."

Xintel smiled tremulously.

He released her and climbed to the tree trunk, emptied his lungs of water and slogged off into the swamp. It was filthy and difficult and dangerous traveling, but a sense of urgency was upon him.

After a while he began to sing, loudly and hoarsely and off key. He sang the popular songs of his last days on Earth, cowboy ballads, ribald and unprintable construction camp ditties. The sounds drifted thinly into the enshrouding mists.

He did not sing from happiness. The colony would be an armed camp and the songs of Earth offered his only means of identification in the fog. At the end of each verse he paused and listened.

* * * * *

He finished a particularly lugubrious cowboy number entitled _Blood On The Saddle_.

"Hey! Who's that out there?" A voice reached him through the mist.

"Ya-hoo!" Barry called. "Where are you?"

"Over here!" the voice replied.

"Keep yelling, and--don't--shoot!" Barry called, spacing his words for clearness.

But sounds moved in tricky ways through the moist, opaque air and it was only after long floundering that he saw the dim shadows of men.

"Who are you?" the voice called sharply. "What are you doing out here?"

"I'm Barry Barr."

"You lie!" someone shouted. "Barry Barr's dead!"

Barry recognized the voice.

"That's what you think, Phillips!"

He sloshed his way over to join them and they stared in amazement.

"Where you been?" one of them demanded.

"At the bottom of the sea."

"This ain't no time for kidding!" the man retorted angrily.

"I mean it," Barry declared earnestly. "But guide me in quick. There's hell brewing."

* * * * *

He waited impatiently in the vestibule of the central building while they peeled off their rubberized swamp suits. Then he was inside, back in the colony he had never expected to see again.

"Call the council of captains and get the leading technical men of each division," he snapped. "Emergency!"

He coughed, his lungs irritated by the artificially dehumidified air of the building. Just then Dr. Jensen passed down the hallway. He saw his erstwhile patient and came running.

"What happened to you, son?" he asked.

"Water machine stopped," Barry said shortly, unwilling to be diverted from more pressing matters by past events. "Had to get out or die."

"The devil!" the doctor exclaimed. "It was running all right when I came back, but the window was smashed."

For Barry that was conclusive evidence--if such were needed--that the breakdown had been no accident. Hind had turned on the water and power again to cover his deed.

Dr. Jensen grabbed Barry's arm. "Let me make some tests on you," he asked eagerly.

"No time now," Barry snapped.

The four spaceship captains and as many technicians as could crowd into the room, set up a babble of questions as Barry entered. He glanced around quickly, searching for two faces, but neither Dorothy Voorhees nor Robson Hind was there. He held up a hand for silence.

The noise subsided.

"Gentlemen, there is intelligent life on Venus, intelligent _human_ life of an origin common to our own. You tangled with them recently."

"My God!" a man exclaimed. "We thought it was some animal that killed Evans."

"I told you that was a knife wound and not the mark of teeth," another interrupted.

"We heard Fred shooting out beside the slough," someone explained. "But by the time we got there he was dead and there was nothing in sight."

"Don't underestimate these Venusians," Barry warned. "They live under water. No knowledge of fire or explosives--they lost those when they went aquatic--but their bacteriology is advanced. They once staged a full scale bacterial war. And they knew enough biological science--a damn sight more than we know--to deliberately become water-breathers to escape the mess their war created."

He noticed sceptical looks on some of the faces.

"Just look at me," he said. "What happens by accident can be done on purpose. This colony is facing death. A fanatical group of Venusians are planning to wipe us out, and the attack will come soon. They will use a chemical that attracts every swamp beast and water monster within miles.

"It works. I know it works," he insisted, and shuddered as he remembered the torvaks.

"Then there will be hypervirulent bacteria. You know what that means!"

"Why should they attack us?" someone demanded.

"You're strange to them, alien, and there is a leader among them who fears outside influences will undermine his absolute control."

"All right! Let's get ready, shoot the works, and give them what they're asking for!" The man who spoke had been a close friend of Evans.

"No!" Barry said decisively. "That would be the worst thing possible!"

"What would you advise?" one of the captains asked.

"Many of them would be friendly if given a chance," Barry explained. "But if you plant mines in the slough and wipe out the attacking party it will mean enmity between colonists and the surviving Venusians for all time to come. Both sides will be vulnerable, you to bacterial attack, they to depth charges, and the surface of Venus will be rendered uninhabitable for years or even centuries."

"What's the alternative?" Captain Reno demanded.

The door opened and Barry glanced around. Even in mud-streaked coveralls Dorothy Voorhees was beautiful. He had forgotten just how desirable she was.

"Barry!" she cried joyfully, and ran to him.

Instinctively he responded to her kiss--until he remembered Xintel and his own condition.

"I won't be able to stay," he told her, deliberately making his voice harsh. "I'm not cured and probably never will be."

"But--but your water machine can be fixed," she protested.

"There's more than that," he said, and with an effort turned away.

IX

"As I was saying, gentlemen. Using the electric secondaries from the ships, with submerged electrodes, you can set up a high-voltage, low-amperage barrier across the slough that will stun without killing. If this first attack can be warded off without killing, perhaps we can establish friendly relations."

"What makes you think they could be friendly?" a man asked suspiciously.

"Because of a girl named Xintel who would undoubtedly become their leader if Komso were killed or discredited. She saved my life, and since then we have lived together and fought side by side. She is waiting on the edge of the swamp now, an outcast from her own people because she dared help me."

Dorothy understood more from his tone than his words alone conveyed. Her face paled.

"Barry," she began, her voice strained. "You--?"

The door opened again and three men crowded into the room. One was Robson Hind. The electronics expert's face went gray as he saw his supposed victim still alive. Barry itched to get at him but for the moment too much was at stake to permit personal revenge.

"Rig the shock charges at once," he suggested. "Xintel and I will do our best to head off the attack under water."

There were objections. Some considered it too dangerous. A heated argument broke out, but at last the council of captains nodded agreement. A sublethal current was to be used, but it was to be backstopped by mortars, machine guns and flame throwers. Any creature showing its head above water was to be blasted on sight.

"I'll attend to the power supply," Hind suddenly volunteered.

Barry guessed what was really in his mind. From Hind's unbalanced, paranoid viewpoint it was essential he be removed to forestall an investigation. He turned to the spaceship captains.

"I most strongly urge that someone other than Robson Hind take charge of the work."

"Why?" Captain Reno snapped.

"My reasons are valid, believe me. I'll explain later."

"The man's crazy!" Hind spluttered.

Captain Reno looked at his fellow officers and they nodded.

"Podtiaguine, take charge of the installation," Reno commanded.

The dry air was hurting Barry's lungs; Komso might attack at any moment; and Xintel was all alone where hostile swamp met hostile sea.

"I've got to get out," he declared. "Give me a pair of liquid fire pistols."

A storekeeper hurried to get them, and as Barry buckled the holster belt around his waist he looked for Dorothy. She was gone.

"Remember," he warned. "No killing unless absolutely necessary, but watch out for tricks. If my luck holds I'll be back. I have things to settle."

He looked meaningfully at Hind, then turned abruptly and strode down the hall, his ragged trousers flapping damply, his Venusian sandals squishing at every step. The warm, stench-filled Venusian mist closed around him, revivifying him and soothing his tormented lungs as he started toward the swamp.

"Barry!" It was Dorothy.

"Barry, I want a straight answer."

"Yes?"

"Have you stopped loving me?"

His answer was unhesitating. "No, and I never will. But I have no right since I became--like this."

She made a sound between a gasp and a sob.

"But that Venusian girl?"

Barry fumbled for words. "I--I love her too. It's just that I--well--you and she belong in different worlds and I'm--I'm part of both but not fully of either."

"Oh! But you'll come back--for short periods at least?"

"If I live through what's coming," he answered soberly.

She smiled with an effort. "Be careful, Barry dear, and--good luck!"

She turned, running back toward the buildings, and he plunged into the reeking swamp, backtracking along his own trail of muddy footprints and crushed vegetation.

He emerged at the fallen tree, dived in, and with a sense of relief filled his lungs with water.

"Xintel!" he called.

"Here!" He swung around. The bank beneath the tree trunk had been hollowed out by the action of ripples on the soft mud, and she crouched there, protected on three sides.

"I was so afraid you weren't coming back!"

"I told you I'd return."

"Barry?" Her voice trembled. "Did you see--her?"

He nodded.

"And yet you came back to me!" She spoke as though she could hardly believe it.

"Listen closely," he broke in. "What do the women of Tana think of Komso's plans?"

"They know many of their men will never return."

"Do you think you could--?"

"Perhaps I could sneak back into Tana. But what good would that do?"

Barry frowned thoughtfully. "Could you persuade some of them, as many as possible, to follow the war party and overtake their men? When they see you're alive, that Komso's curse didn't work--"

Xintel shook her head. "Most have never been outside Tana in their lives. Even to save their men they would be too fearful of the sea dangers and of Komso's wrath. They would never follow me."

Barry drew one of his fire pistols and moved aside.

"Watch this," he told her. The liquid charge was self-oxidizing and should burn under water, but there was a distinct danger the gun would backfire. His nerves were screaming as he squeezed the trigger.

Scarlet fire lanced from the muzzle with a sizzling roar that nearly broke their eardrums.

The water surged and heaved.

Xintel pressed her hands to her ears; her eyes were round with amazement.

"What was that?" she gasped.

"That was fire," Barry answered, handing her both weapons. "Now you have magic to surpass anything of Komso's. Would that help persuade the women?"

Xintel smiled grimly. "They will follow me or else--And if Komso or a Chosen One should interfere, would it--?"

"It would. And tell the women that if your people and mine can meet as friends there will be guns like this for everyone. Norus and torvaks will hold no more terrors."

"But you?" she asked.

"I must wait at the mouth of the slough and stop Komso there."

"But--?"

"Waste no more time! Hurry!"

* * * * *

After she was gone he swam along the shore to the slough and settled on the bottom. He waited interminably it seemed before he spotted the distant streaks of light left by Komso's men, perhaps a hundred of them in a close group.

He remained crouched, waiting until they were just beyond crossbow range. Then he stood up, waving his arms to create enough light to make his identity unmistakable. He had decided his only course lay in turning Komso's own propaganda against him.

"Stop!" he commanded.

For a moment there was confusion in the ranks, and those in front backed water.

"Come forth, Komso, and look upon me!" Barry called. "You are a trickster and a fraud, and your curses are without power!"

Komso's jaw went slack and his face grew crimson. The priest spoke softly to a Chosen One.

"Men," he declared. "Only a demon could survive the curse of the Gods Of The Deeps--but even a demon can die!"

Barry almost missed seeing the Chosen One raise his crossbow, but some instinct warned him just as the weapon twanged. He sidestepped and the missile whizzed by. It had been close. If they were to open upon him in volleys--

"Komso's curses are powerless but mine are not!" he declared loudly, concealing his nervousness. "You are forgiven this time, but the next man who raises a weapon against me will feel my wrath. He shall die screaming in slow agony!"

"Rush him! Kill him!" Komso ordered, attempting to rally his wavering ranks. But Barry's boast, and their belief that he was a demon, held them back.

Barry scanned the sea for the patch of light that would indicate Xintel approaching with the women of Tana. Nothing. Stalling was his only chance.

"Men of Tana," he began. "If you follow Komso you go to certain death. Already you have seen that his so-called curse means nothing. And now I shall tell you how--"

"Close your ears!" Komso shrieked. "Listen to this infidel and the curse of the Gods will be upon you too!"

The men trembled, torn between fear of the demon and fear of their own leader.

"Those from Above would be your friends," Barry argued. "They are not demons, but men very like yourselves."

"Liar!" Komso bellowed. "The people of Tana are the only true men!"

The warriors nodded, accepting the oft-repeated dogma as indisputable truth. Barry realized it was useless to argue. He waited, hoping something would swing the balance. Meanwhile Komso deployed his forces in a crescent across the mouth of the slough. To Barry it looked like preparation for a rush that would overwhelm him.

Each warrior, he saw, carried a large sealed wooden cylinder. They handled them gingerly. Barry guessed their purpose. They contained the hypervirulent bacterial cultures with which the colony was to be exterminated. But of course, to the Venusians themselves, they were magic.

Just when it seemed Komso's men were rallying from their fright, Barry sighted a speck of brightness far out to sea. One of the men saw it too and called the priest's attention to it. Komso's stare of puzzlement changed to fury as he made out the forms of thirty women.

Xintel darted ahead of the group, past Komso's men, and before the priest could give an order, she had reached Barry's side.

"I had to use all the fire," she said in a low voice. "There were torvaks, and it killed them."

Barry squeezed her hand, although he wished she had saved one charge with which to impress the war party.

Komso's forces were disorganized. Several of the men had left ranks to join their frightened, panting mates and a series of shrill family quarrels were in progress despite all the priest's efforts. Men cursed their wives for leaving Tana and were in turn cursed for everything the near-hysterical females could lay tongue to.

"Hear me!" Komso bellowed. "Hear me!"

The quarreling stopped abruptly.

"I challenge the demon to single, bare-handed combat!"

Barry gulped. He had wanted for a long time to get his hands on Komso, and now the opportunity was here.

"I accept!" he said firmly.

Xintel's face was ashen; her lips were trembling.

"Barry! My father believed the Leaders used poison under their fingernails; the slightest scratch means death," she whispered.

Barry dared not back down now. He watched Komso advance.

* * * * *

The priest swam upward and stopped, slight motions of arms and legs holding him there. Barry recognized it as a clever move. Komso had seen what the Earthman's muscles could do when he was able to plant his feet solidly.

"Come meet your doom, Demon!" Komso taunted.

Barry sensed the interest of the watchers. Many times they had seen Komso's powers displayed, and they were waiting for the demon to flee or die.

Suddenly Barry launched himself from the bottom in a headlong rush.

Komso dodged and his hands came out in a clawing, scratching reach. In that instant Barry knew Xintel had been right.

He knocked Komso's arm aside and whipped his fist toward the smirking face. It struck, but only a glancing blow. It left him floundering off balance. The water around them glowed with increasing brightness as they twisted and turned.

Again and again Komso's poisoned nails reached out, but each time Barry managed to escape. He tried to maneuver the battle toward the bottom, but Komso stayed above and made short, threatening swoops. Barry was forced to move upward again or remain entirely on the defensive. He did not dare grapple.

In desperation he relaxed his guard and tried a judo chop at Komso's shoulder muscles. The priest uttered a cry of pain, but the blow had not disabled. Fingernails scraping along his neck filled him with blind panic. Luckily they failed to break the skin.

Komso drew away, dove in again, this time low, clawing at Barry's legs and keeping clear of his punishing fists.

Barry drew his legs up, and as the Venusian passed under him, pumped them down with all his strength.