Spacewrecked on Venus Part 4

The spiralled figures inside the fence had stopped at sound of the voice and were waiting for us to comply with the order from the s.p.a.ce ship.

More of the brigands in their electric resistors were advancing through the lightning bolts which crackled noisily. The powerful voltage danced and played upon the spirals, disappearing into the ground.

Cragley paused, undecided. Lines of broken resolve creased his face.

Previously, he had remained strong and stubborn in the face of overwhelming adversity when chances were slim. There now remained not even the slimmest of chances, and stubborn courage yielded to reason.

"I guess the game's up, Quentin." He turned to regard his under officer in speculation.

Quentin waited for his captain's orders. Again came the voice from the outlaw craft in its strident tones. They were tinged with a touch of impatience.

"Show yourselves inside of one minute, or else be executed at once!

Unless----"

"Hold out!" cried a new voice from the speaker, breaking in upon the first voice. "You have friends on----"

Then came sounds of scuffling. To our ears came imprecations and curses.

"Don't go out there!" warned the second voice in laboring gasps.

"Stay----"

With a sudden snap, the speaker was cut off. Nothing more was heard. For a moment the lightning bolts comprising the electric fence flashed out--then reappeared. A few seconds later they disappeared once more, returning shortly to flicker in a peculiar manner.

It was evident that some sort of a struggle was taking place inside the outlaw ship. The electric display crackled and sputtered louder than ever. With a sudden, explosive thunder clap, the four terminal posts blew to pieces.

The spiralled figures turned in alarm back toward their craft. One of them, hovering close to our haven of retreat, did not follow his comrades. Instead, he drew forth from a long side pocket a black object.

At first glance, it seemed shaped like a pistol. But it was much longer and was proportioned differently.

He waited patiently until several more of the brigands had returned to the ship. Raising the black weapon, he aimed carefully at his fellow outlaws. The man's strange actions amazed me. He was turning upon his own comrades. Several of the brigands fell backward off the deck of the outlaw craft.

Cragley, beside me, was speechless in surprise at the rapid succession of events. The outlaw's strange weapon which emitted no flash had us all wondering. Later, we discovered that it was a radium gun, a new instrument of destruction still in the experimental stage.

"Who is he?" voiced Cragley.

"Can't be the fellow we heard over the speaker," observed Quentin. "This man came through the electric fence with the first ones."

"Somebody over there is pulling for us," insisted Cragley, "and the man with the black gun must be a friend, too."

A flash darted out from the ship, hitting the spiralled figure operating his mystifying weapon. The spiral glowed brilliantly. The man inside the spiral remained unaffected, continuing to manipulate the k.n.o.b of his weapon. Something went wrong with it, for the outlaw who had so suddenly turned against his friends tinkered with it a moment, then threw it from him in disgust. Meanwhile, the brigands had ma.s.sed inside the ship.

With a loud crackling, the speaker's volume was thrown on again. An alarmed voice vibrated in our ears. Above the words came a rattling and banging--also the m.u.f.fled sound of shouting men.

"Jasper! Come t' the control room! I'm locked in! They're bustin' down the door! Bring that gun o' yours! Hurry, lad!"

Jasper looked upon his broken weapon, hesitated a moment, then picked it up--b.u.t.t foremost. Seizing it in cudgel fashion, he made for the ship.

"Come on!" roared Cragley exultantly. "Now's our chance!"

We found our numbers reduced to ten, but every one of us leaped forward at Cragley's order, ready to stake everything on the one desperate, fighting chance which had come so unexpectedly. We had nearly overtaken the man we had heard addressed as Jasper when a crackling flame of lightning leaped out at us. A hissing roar smote our ear drums and we were temporarily dazzled by an intense light. The aim had been too high.

The electric charge had gone over our heads. The man in the control room had frustrated the attempt to electrocute us.

Several of the brigands jumped out of the ship to meet us. They still wore the enc.u.mbering spirals. A powerful gas of paralyzing effect was shot into our faces. We became as immobile as statues. Jasper, too, was overcome. Instantly, we were divested of our weapons.

The man locked in the control room of the ship had been taken. Whoever these two men were who had championed our cause, their desperate efforts had failed, and now we were all in the same boat. The one who had addressed us over the speaker was led out of the ship and shoved into our group beside his fellow traitor, Jasper. The latter's spiral was promptly torn off.

As the outlaws pa.s.sed among us, searching for concealed weapons, I felt a cold object thrust cautiously into my hand. My heart thrilled to the contact of a pistol. I held my hand close to my side that none might see. The effects of the gas wore off quickly.

The chief of the brigands, his brutal face set in anger, strode up to the pair who had turned against him during the stress of combat. His dark eyes blazed, and he raised his clutching hands menacingly above the two. Jasper and his friend stared back unabashed, a reckless glitter in their eyes, ready for what might happen.

"I don't know who you are, but I've got suspicions!" snapped the outlaw.

"You'll both die horribly--the kind of death we reserve for such as you!"

He turned upon Cragley. "Where's the platinum?" he demanded. "Is it over there?" He pointed to the clump of bushes from which we had lately emerged. "Or have you hidden it?"

"See for yourself!" snapped Cragley.

"When we find it, all tongues will be silenced," he remarked significantly. "If it's hidden, we'll find it just the same. We know how to make tongues wag."

It was a desperate situation. Cragley knew that the time of reckoning had come. The platinum lay in an open s.p.a.ce among the bushes where we had taken our stand on seeing the approach of the outlaw ship. I fondled the gun I held out of sight.

Leaving a large force of his men to guard us, the leader of the brigands took the balance of his men and headed for the spot where Captain Cragley had left the boxes of platinum.

"Well, Ben," observed Jasper, philosophically scratching his head, "we did the best we could."

"Which weren't quite enough, Jasper, m'lad."

"Who are you two?" queried Cragley.

Each one looked at the other questioningly. For a moment neither spoke.

Then through a rough, unkempt beard, Ben grinned at his companion.

"Might as well tell 'im, Jasper. The game's up."

"We ain't outlaws, that's sure, though we might have made believe so,"

said Jasper. "He's Ben Cartley, the best pal a man ever had. I'm Jasper Jezzan. We're from the Hayko Unit."

My mouth fell open in surprise. I nearly dropped the gun I had kept concealed in a fold of my clothing. Everyone, at some time or another, had heard of the famous Hayko Unit. The order, established since the perfection of s.p.a.ce flying, was comprised of men pledged to keep the s.p.a.ce lanes and colonies safe from the lawless element.

"We'll be in the death unit when Ledageree and his men come back,"

cracked Ben, chuckling at his own grim joke. "Did you plant the platinum, or is it back there?"

"Back there," echoed Cragley dejectedly. "We haven't a chance. I thought maybe we could make Deliphon with the stuff before these outlaws got wise."

"We followed the trail easily from the air," remarked Cartley. "First, we found the s.p.a.ce ship and the cylinder. After that, we just watched for the green campfire markers is all."

"Campfire markers?" questioned Cragley in excitement. "What do----"

"There comes Ledageree!" interrupted Jasper.