Chapter I

It was in the reading room of the Neilson-Aldebar space liner, Ekova, that two young people came unexpectedly upon a third person who sat alone, absently skimming through a copy of the Interplanetarian. When the girl caught sight of him she uttered a little acclamation of surprise. “Hekki-you!” she cried.

The one addressed looked up. A smile of greeting came over his swarthy, aristocratic features. “Hello, Jan. It is I--none other,” he said. “Aren’t you glad to see me?” Here he shot a quick glance at the girl’s companion.

“Why certainly I am, Hekki,” she replied a trifle nervously. “But how can it be? A week ago you left for the deepest, most mysterious part of the Taraal desert on Mars, to collect objects of ancient art, and now you are here. Where have you kept yourself during the voyage?”

The other smiled again--this time a cryptic, secretive smile. “Business,” he said mysteriously. “It called me to Earth at the last moment, and since we left the docks at Taboor, it has kept me occupied in my stateroom. This is but the third time I have ventured out of it. Alka brought me my meals.” Hekki arched his finely penciled eyebrows slightly as he looked up at the lady’s companion. “And you too have had business, Janice,” he added. “A new boy friend?” There was a hint of something unpleasant in his tone, but the girl ignored it.

She nodded her golden head. “We met on the night of the departure from Mars, and since then, we’ve had a happy week together. Austin,” she said, turning to the youth, “I want you to know Hekalu Selba of Taboor. Hekki, this is Austin Shelby, who hails from Chicago. You ought to get along well together, because you are both so interested in mechanics,” she added. The men shook hands. For the past few moments Shelby had been trying to analyze from the scanty data at hand the character of Hekki. He saw the tapering, effeminate hands--one twiddled nervously a long Martian cigarette--the dark straight hair and fine features; the mouth, that could curl so insolently; the faultless, white silk clothing.

Shelby decided that he did not like Hekki. The reason at first seemed obvious, but presently the young Earthman realized that his feeling towards this child of the Red Planet was stronger than mere dislike. What was the explanation? Was it because Hekki was a friend of Janice Darell? Since he had met her aboard the Ekova on this glorious return to Earth, after having spent a whole Martian year at an engineering school at Taboor, Shelby had learned to know love. Was he jealous of this noble of another world? A little, perhaps. But this did not account for the vague, sinister aura he sensed about Hekalu Selba.

Something in Shelby’s brain was trying to surge its way to the surface of his consciousness; he struggled with it, and it came out clear. Only thirty-six hours before, during the period designated for sleep, he had wandered into a seldom frequented passageway, high up in the hull of the Ekova. Here there were portholes through which he could see the curving metal expanse of the ship’s huge form, gleaming dimly under the stars of space. It had looked like the back of a great silver whale.

For a minute or two he had stared absently through the little circular window, and then, hearing footsteps down the corridor, he had turned to see two figures some hundred feet distant moving away from him. They had obviously entered from a side passage and had probably not seen him. One had been this very Hekalu Selba; Austin was sure of it. Beside him had moved a shadow. The Earthman had not seen it clearly, for the illuminating globes burning here during the sleep period were dim and far between.

He had but a vague fleeting impression of a huge knotty form, bent and grotesque. Its arms were so long that its big hands almost dragged on the floor. Its head was very large and bulbous. The pair had seemed to carry something heavy between them, but Austin had not seen what it was. In a moment the Martian had opened a door in the side of the passage and the two had vanished into it.

When Austin had returned to his stateroom, he was not quite sure he had really seen the monstrous horror. Surely nothing like it was known to exist within the orbit of Jupiter! Shelby had thought of reporting the incident to the commander of the vessel, but he had dismissed the idea as too pointless. Now, however, the memory of that vague black form was haunting him. He knew that it was the key, in part at least, to his feeling toward Hekalu Selba.

The Martian had cast his magazine aside. He was patting the soft cushions of the divan on which he was lounging. “Sit here, my friends,” he said in his smooth, precise English. “We shall talk, and then perhaps we shall have a little refreshment.” The two complied.

“It will be only for a moment,” said the girl. “The ship lands in an hour, and I haven’t gathered my things together yet.”

Shelby was intensely interested in this queer individual, about whose personality there lingered a strangely indefinable web of mystery--of evil, almost.

“So you too have a passion for mechanics,” he said. “Somewhere I am sure I have heard of you before. Kelang Aggar, an instructor of mine at Taboor, spoke occasionally of a young Martian student--”

“Kelang Aggar is my friend,” Hekki broke in. “He assisted me with several experiments. But they were nothing--a new alloy, very hard, and having a high point of fusion. The heads of the Space Ship Construction Company said it was ideal for rocket nozzles, but they paid me a mere pittance for the invention. This, and a few even lesser ones are my sole accomplishments in the line of mechanics.” Hekalu Selba laughed lightly.

“Let us talk of other things, my friends,” he continued. “Let us allow our minds to ramble. See those two beautiful potted palms over there--children of the deserts of Earth, and beside them the slender graceful stem of the purple Kelan, dug from the marshes along the Selgur waterway of my own planet. I have seen them both in their native habitat, waving their fronds as though in cadence with some great silent symphony of the universe. See that tapestry over yonder, with the beast woven into it?”

Here Janice Darell pointed up toward the flattened glass dome that roofed the room. “There is old Mother Earth looking down at us, and the sun is peeping around her rim,” she said. “See how the light of Sol sifts through the terrestrial atmosphere. There is a streak of red, of gold, of opal, and beyond are the stars and the blackness of space.”

“The contrast of the forces of darkness with those of light,” Shelby put in softly.

Hekki was smiling absently. “There are many contrasts,” he mused. “The contrast of life and death, of power and weakness, of nightmare and reality.”

Words popped into Austin Shelby’s head, and, carelessly, he uttered them without thinking: “You often walk with your nightmares, don’t you, Hekalu?”

A hard light came into the Martian’s eyes as he stared straight at the Earthman. “Perhaps,” he said, “and you, Mr. Shelby, often walk in your sleep!” But apparently the incident was immediately forgotten.

Austin wondered how much the girl knew about the luxurious Hekalu. A quick glance of intelligence passed between them.

“I’ll have to pack now,” Janice said. “Won’t you boys walk along with me a little ways?” She took Austin’s arm as they arose. Hekki fell in beside them. At the entrance to the corridor which led to the girl’s stateroom they paused.