Read Ebook: Exiles of the Three Red Moons by Selwyn Carl Morey Leo Illustrator

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Ebook has 350 lines and 12644 words, and 7 pages

E se elle teve, emfim, manchas ensanguentadas, Tambem o sol as tem, que ficam offuscadas, Pela irradia??o da sua luz brilhante...

Est? limpo o pedestal da estatua do gigante! Elle foi da Justi?a o bra?o vingador, Como depois na Fran?a os homens do Terror.

Saudai-o Mocidade! Um brado bem seguro, Apostolos da Luz, videntes do Futuro! V?s, que saudastes j? o genio de Cam?es, Erguei-lhe um monumento em vossos cora??es. ? justo que fa?ais dupla consagra??o: --Ao genio da Epopeia e ao genio da Instruc??o!

Valen?a, 8 de Maio de 1882.

"I think you know the rest," said Spike. "Here's Fish."

Rusty noticed for the first time the frail form of a Venusian in the shadows. He moved silently to Rusty, extended a finny hand in the Earthian clasp adopted by the Universe.

Venusians were an eternal surprise to Rusty. Half the height of an average man, limbs thin and tipped with prehensile spines, they were covered with fish-like scales, a delicate lavender in color. A single eye in the middle of the forehead, throughout the Universe they carried optional misnomers, "Cyclops" or "Fish."

Rusty shook the cold hand and for a moment forgot his plight, as he felt his usual presentiments. These weird creatures from the cloud-hidden planet never failed to arouse unreasoning tingles of distrust.

"When do we leave?" asked Rusty. He must have action. The thought of his abandonment here would soon drive him raving mad.

"All ready," said Spike. "Waiting for the moon to get in position."

Lothar tapped Rusty on the shoulder, his huge, four-fingered hand almost knocking him down.

"Make words," he boomed in his throat. "You go. Must be one with us--steal moon ship--pirates."

"He means we head for the Great Moon, steal a plane there and see what we can pick up in the Earthian traffic lanes," Spike translated. "It took me a long time to persuade them that you were okey, so be nice!"

"Sure," said Rusty. He had barely heard the words. "Sure."

Lothar stared at him with his slanting, narrow eyes. He finally nodded, moved away.

The little ship was crudely made, Rusty noticed, of cans in which the prisoners had been dropped. It was held down by ropes stretching over the hull. The thick, insulated drift-tubes were simple antigravitic units of low power. With the engineering skill of the Martians, six of these had been fixed together, forming a squat hull, blunt at one end. Powered by fuel salvaged from countless near-dry tubes, it was planned, he was told, to wait till the nearby satellite was directly overhead, then release the ship, allowing it to drift upward. After a few miles--with an over-load of fuel they would drift fast--they would be caught by the pull of the larger planet, sucked into it. The gravity of the Great Moon would overcome their diminished power and they would drift down. There was, of course, no oxygen equipment and they would doubtless lose consciousness. But it would be only a few moments in space and they should revive in the dense atmosphere of the moon. It was a chance they would have to take.

Creeping comets! thought Rusty. Wouldn't he have a story if he ever reached the Tele-news plant again! But would he ever see Earth again?

"We're waiting till the Plain comes around again," Spike answered Rusty's thoughts. "Have to leave navigation to the Martians. They have an uncanny sense of precision."

"What--" began Rusty.

He heard a slithering in the plants behind them.

They turned. Rusty saw three Bugs crawl into the dim light. Yellow horrors, they moved swiftly. Sharp feelers waving, they advanced like giant cockroaches. Others came behind them. They swarmed into the clearing.

He turned to run. There was no fighting them. There was no running away--Bugs poured from all sides. Lord! must he die now? When a chance was so near? They were surrounded. He stood staring, the others behind him, weaponless.

Rusty remembered one man he had seen after their work. He sickened at the picture. Blood was what they smelled, what they sought. Those feelers chopped at one's legs, severed the feet, hovered with sucking mouths about the face of the victim, still alive.

The Bugs came on.

One neared Rusty. A tendril knifed at him. He kicked madly into the yellow mass, felt the pulpy insect crush under the blow. The ground was a blanket of writhing yellow, spreading toward them. He hoped it would be quick. But it never was. One died slowly. The life sucked from him. Rusty kicked at another. The others were stamping wildly.

"Into the ship!" yelled Spike.

The tubes! They would be safe there. Rusty leaped a slashing wave as there was a rush for the ship. He went into the ochre, crawling things with one bound, into a drift-can with another. He clanged the port over him, heard the others slam shut.

Rusty lay in the silent darkness, unable to move in the cramped cylinder. They would have to wait for the Bugs to leave. It might be days! The air was slowly becoming bad. He would have to open the port soon. He might be able to open it just a fraction, but those tendrils were thin, they might whip in. The place was stifling. His throat ached. There was bursting panic in his lungs.

Suddenly he was pressed against the bottom of the tube by an invisible force. They were moving.

But why? How? The Great Moon was not in position yet! They would miss it! He raised a hand to the port-lock. It would be better to jump. And the air--he could not breathe. He fumbled with the lock, could not open it. Weakly he clawed at the port. They would--drift--into--space....

Slowly, his mind relaxed into unconsciousness.

Rusty opened his eyes and breathed deeply of exquisite air. He saw green foliage above him. He was lying upon a verdant substance, soft and moist. It was very hot. His furs had been removed.

"It's time you came to!" said a voice, and Rusty sat up, saw the rotund Earthian approaching. He glanced around, saw the drift-lube nearby, half-buried in the mud. The others were standing beside it, their odd appearance increased by the removal of their heavy clothing.

They had made it. They had escaped! He was free!

"What happened?" he asked, head dizzy.

"Fool Bugs cut the ropes," said Spike. "We floated off Pluto. Several of them must have held on the rope-ends for a while. Their weight slowed us down till the moon came over, but we hit in the jungle--an ocean, either way, between us and the Plain."

"Lord!" said Rusty. "No man ever crossed this part of the planet on foot!"

"Nobody ever escaped from Pluto either," said Spike. "Until ten minutes ago." He yanked Rusty to his feet.

Rusty looked at the dense wall of plants about them. There was barely room for a man to pass between the twisted trunks and vines. Overhead was the same thick mass of green. Faint light seeped through. But here was a single, tangible thing--something one could grasp with the hands, fight for life--a goal at the end. There was a hope! It was better than Pluto.

The others came up.

"What now?" said one of the Martians in his toneless voice.

"Cross jungle, cross sea," said Lothar.

"Let's get going," said Spike. He turned to the seemingly impenetrable growths surrounding them.

Rusty followed. His heart stopped.

A great white thing fell slowly in front of them. It dangled in mid-air. It was a spider--bigger than an Earthian cow. Green, checked eyes bulging, it hung from a thick strand of translucent material.

Spike sprang back as the monstrosity reached out a hairy tendril. Rusty stood hypnotized by the pale hideousness of the creature.

With a quick movement it swung toward them.

Rusty broke his trance. He leaped aside. A tentacle slapped across his face as he sprawled into the mire.

He started up, saw the insect crouched upon the writhing form of a Martian. Shrill, animal screams cut the air as the red man struggled frantically to escape the tightening white claws. The gaping man drew close.

"Get him, Lothar!" shouted Spike from the edge of the jungle.

The eight-foot Uranian plodded to the thing, short legs working rapidly. With a massive hand, he caught one stalk-like feeler, and wrenched and twisted it from the globose body.

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