Chapter V: The Race Through Space

Immediately the Earthman set himself to the task of examining everything in his prison. But as he had expected, there was little or nothing to discover. The walls which his tether permitted him to reach were all perfectly smooth and solid. He realized with a sheepish grin that it had been foolish of him to even dare to hope that they would be otherwise. The chain fastened to the fetter was quite adequate to hold him. The window, even if it might have been used as an avenue of escape, was securely fastened with bolts, so that it would have taken a man equipped with a heavy set of wrenches, an hour to remove it. To shatter the flexible pane was next to an impossibility. The table was firmly welded to the floor. Beyond the table, Shelby could not go, for the chain prevented him. But he was quite sure that there was nothing movable in the entire room massive enough to be used as a tool or weapon.

He slumped down on his bunk, and let one hand rest on a small power-pipe which ran along the wall and up to the illumination globe above. For a minute dejection almost got a firm grip on him. But he fought it off. This was no time to give up. Why, the struggle hadn’t even started yet!

Shelby felt a faint vibration of the power-pipe under his hand. For a considerable time the impressions had been coming to him, but they had scarcely penetrated into his consciousness. They seemed no more significant than the hundred and one little noises and disturbances that go with the running of any space ship. Presently however, the regular sequence of the pulsations attracted his attention. Something made him think of the almost obsolete Morse code. Then the realization came to him. Someone in another room on he ship was tapping on the power-pipe--signaling--signaling him! He spelled the word out--A-u-s-t-i-n, repeated over and over again.

His first thought was of Jan. It must be she who was calling him for there was no one else.

Quickly, with his heavy signet ring, he tapped out an answer: “It is I, Jan, A. S. shoot--”

With tensed muscles, and with fingers firmly clutching the power-pipe that he might not miss a single signal, Shelby crouched, receiving the message. Somehow there was an urgency, an insistence, an appeal about those hurried pulsations that no human voice could have conveyed. It was fantastically like communicating with one who is buried alive.

“We must escape not later than five hours from now,” the tapping spelled. “You have been unconscious for a long time--drugged. In five hours we land on Mars. Then escape will be impossible.

“Hekki has told me much, and I have seen much. The horrors that are Selba’s henchmen--three times some of them came to the ship, once in a band of over a hundred. Hekki is worried. He has not troubled me yet. Too busy I suppose. I have tried to make believe that I agree to his plans. I thought I could control him that way. But he has been taking the Elar drug.

“We must escape, Austin. We must! Can’t you think of a way? I will help! If they get you to the concentration base in the Taraal they will torture you. And we must remember our homeland!”

The hurrying vibrations ceased, and then, almost before he knew what he was doing, Shelby was tapping out an answer promising the impossible.

“Never fear, dearest,” he signaled. “Just let me think for a few minutes.” A moment later this phrase almost made him laugh. The sap hero of a comedy which had recently been broadcast over the radio-view had said almost these exact words. Think? Of what? Escape within five hours? How? But Jan’s appeal sent in such an odd way had an almost magical effect on him, and made his brain work harder almost than ever before. And then the ghost of an idea came. There was a chance that it would work. He signaled to Jan, and then for half an hour, they put their heads together--planning.

Somewhat nervous, Shelby walked to the door and hammered loudly upon it. A thin-faced slave whose hide was burned by desert suns to the color of mahogany, appeared almost immediately.

Shelby answered his inquiring look briefly: “I would speak to your master,” he said in Pagari--”right away.” The slave nodded and reclosed the door.

In excited impatience the Earthman waited. Now and then he tapped short messages of encouragement to Jan. Would Hekalu never come? The strain of suspense was not exactly pleasant. Finally, unable to contain himself any longer, he rose from the bunk where he had been reclining in readiness for the first move of the coup he was planning, and began to pace the floor.

He chanced to glance out of the window. On the railed walk beyond, a man clad in space armor was bending over a small portable case which was supported on a tripod. Shelby surmised correctly that this man was Hekalu Selba.

Beside him, paying close attention to whatever the Martian was doing, stood the black Alkebar. The Earthman frowned in puzzlement, almost in awe. For Hekki’s weird companion wore nothing that would be of the least help in protecting him from interplanetary cold and lack of air pressure. Not even an oxygen helmet! And yet, as the monster examined interestedly, every dial and switch that Hekalu touched, he showed not the slightest hint of discomfort. The airless emptiness of space seemed home to him. How could such things be? A strange thrill tingled and vibrated along Shelby’s spine when he realized how alien was Alkebar. There was no kinship between him and the creatures of either Earth or Mars.

Presently Hekki looked up, and as though moved by some intuitive realization that he was being watched, turned awkwardly in his cumbersome attire, and glanced along the row of portholes in the side of the vessel. He saw the Earthman and smiled at him. Shelby felt that it was the kind of smile which a tolerant father might show to his youngest son. Hekalu waved his hand, and his lips, behind the glazed front of the helmet, formed several words which Shelby could not interpret. Then the Martian returned his attention to his apparatus.

When Selba entered his prisoner’s room some moments later, he found him lounging on the bunk.

The Martian looked enquiringly at Shelby. “You have reached some conclusion, my friend?” he asked.

Without changing his position on the bunk the young man nodded. There was an expression of dejection and sullen resignation on his face which he was trying hard, above the intense excitement which possessed him, to make realistic. Still acting the part he spoke: “Yes, Akar Hekalu,” he said between teeth that were apparently gritted with rage, “I have decided to reveal to you the secret of the Atomic Ray.”

A triumphant gleam came into the Martian’s eyes. “Ah, my friend,” he said, “you at last see the light. I knew that you would. But what has been the cause for this sudden change in attitude? The torture chamber, perhaps?” There was an undercurrent of suspicion in Hekalu’s voice.

Shelby turned his head sullenly away, feigning shame. He said nothing. A minute passed during which time Hekalu stared at his captive, a sardonic smirk of contempt curling his thin coral lips.

Finally he said, “I will have Koo Faya bring you writing materials, and you will describe in writing every detail of the manufacture of the missing element.”

“No,” replied Shelby, turning his face toward the Martian, “I haven’t the ability to do that. It will be necessary for you to take me to the laboratory of the ship where I can demonstrate the process to you. It is much too delicate and complicated.”

The noble’s eyes wavered slightly. “Once,” he said, “you tried to trick me, but I warn you that I am on guard now so do not attempt it again.”

He signed to Alkebar who had been standing silently beside the open door. The giant drew a key from a pouch at his side, and kneeling, unlocked the fetter fastened about Shelby’s ankle. It rattled to the floor. And at the same time the Earthian, leaning back on the bunk with arms stretching over his head, tapped sharply three times with his signet ring on the power-pipe. It seemed to be only an unconscious gesture--nervousness perhaps.

Immediately there was a terrific crash from down the passage way, followed by an agonized scream. Another crash. More screams.

Hekalu started, and then making a hurried gesture to Alkebar which indicated that he was to guard the inventor of the Atomic Ray, he drew his automatic and dashed down the corridor to investigate the disturbance. The Earthman however, was in no mood to be guarded. No longer shackled, he leaped to his feet and over to the center of the room. The great voiceless beast from the stars stood before the doorway with his long arms outstretched. He was not trying to capture the Earthman--only seeking to block his path.