Asteroid Man (8 page)

"Constellation Aquili! Good Lord! Yes, you're right so far." Greg snapped his fingers. "Go on."

"It's a white star; at least it would look white to you. Comparing it from your standpoint, it would give out about ten times as much light as your sun, and it's slightly larger."

"That's it; that is Altair! I can't understand this language coincidence." ,

"I'll explain some of that later; I think it's due to the fact that I have a special way of interpreting and translating. It's a mental process, but that's unimportant. I was beginning to tell you about my homeland. I am a Princess, Astra of the Altair Empire. There are seven planets in our system, and they, too, were in a united empire, much like yours. Beyond, for we are not so very far from you—only sixteen light years, in fact—our Altair, there are other star systems with which we have not yet made contact. Your own is one, and there are others far distant of whom we are afraid, of whom we have reason to be. I think I know what you meant by that word 'Out-worlders,' for we have a similar word for these people. Unlike you, however, who only guess at their existence we know of it, to our cost. They are jealous of our united Empire, avaricious to extend their control. For there are races out there, beyond your star and mine, who are as old as the universe itself; races out there as black as Algol. There are races darker than the infinities of night, stranger and colder than deep space. There are races who do not understand time as we have to understand it—and endure it on my world."

"And we," said the spaceman.

"From time to time these 'Out-worlders' have broken through our defenses," went on the girl, sadly. "I was on a state visit to one of our planets, I and my father and the Royal Court We have a type of constitutional monarchy which binds the nine planets together in their regions."

"We have a very similar system, but our supreme ruler is a President. He is regarded with equal affection by all his nine worlds," interrupted the spaceman. "But go on with your story."

"On this state visit, the general alarm was suddenly sounded. In my old home world it couldn't have happened, but this was one of the outer planets. The atmosphere was not good; the colonists dwelt under domes. The defenses were by no means perfect, for nobody can erect perfect defenses in a poisonous atmosphere. Suddenly over our heads this meteorite appeared, and we though it was a false alarm, and then a second warning came through, but by then it was too late. Its behavior was such that no normal meteorite could behave in just that way." Her voice had dropped to a husky whisper.

"And then?" prompted the spaceman.

"And then—" he was quite sure that it was a tear in her eye that he could see now—"and then—" She hesitated as though unable to go on. Suddenly he found that her hand was gripping his tightly, as though pent-up emotions were almost breaking the lovely heart that he felt sure must beat inside the perfect figure. "And then a thousand and one natural disasters broke loose. This thing, this beast, this master," she spat out the words through clenched teeth, "could control gravity. He was more deadly than a Nova, stronger and more terrible than destiny itself. I've never seen such technological power. Great tidal waves and earthquakes shook and destroyed every vestige of our defenses, and in the middle of the chaos, an attractor beam, for such I now know it to be, was poured out of this foul, dreadful satellite."

Greg felt sorry for her. She was a woman, and she was using the strongest language she had ever learnt and finding it inadequate. The adjectives she wanted would only have been found in a barrack room, and even had she known them, she would have been too refined to use them.

"I understand," said Greg. "And this beam—what did it do?"

"The asteroid came so close it was hovering above the heads of the crowd, scarcely four or five hundred feet, and as it hovered there, like a great black bird of ill omen, causing tides and hurricanes, and earthquakes, so this attractor beam picked up the royal carriage with my father and myself, like a child's toy, and whirled it into the sky at a fantastic rate. Father and I clung on for dear life; against the asteroid the beam seemed to switch itself off. And torn between the two gravities, by a masterpiece of technological juggling, we landed with scarcely a bump. A great doorway slid open and brought us into his presence."

"What's he like, this thing called the master?"

"Unbelievably horrible! Couldn't ever begin to try to describe him. Even to think about him makes me shudder. He brought us down and imprisoned us, then came day after day and fed us, and stared at us. We kept demanding to be released and threatened all sorts of vengeance, telling him that our armies would soon be here to rescue us."

"He laughed and kept repeating words like earthquake and whirlwind, and laughing again, as it to say that no army could ever frighten or worry him. He was like some insane god. He seemed to have all power in his hands, and then—" She closed her eyes and clenched her dainty little fists.

"Go on," said Gregg. "What happened then?"

"He wanted me to marry him."

"No. What did he want you to do that for?"

"Can't you guess?"

"Because you are a woman. I wondered if there was any political motive—if he wanted the power of your empire."

"Oh yes, that was part of it; that wasn't the part that really mattered. He wanted me because I was a woman and because he had been alone in space for centuries and because strange and weird and dreadfully repulsive as he was, he still had ordinary feelings. But he was so loathsome, like a reptile. I can't begin to describe how he looks."

"What happened when you said 'no'?" asked Greg, though he had already guessed, for he had seen no sign of the king.

"He said he would kill him slowly until I said 'yes.' He said that every day I would hear him scream."

"And what did you do?"

"I couldn't have stood it. I should have had to give in."

"But you didn't. What happened?"

"My father killed himself as soon as he knew, so that he couldn't be used as a weapon against me."

Greg had already guessed as much.

"I see," he said quietly. It was being forcibly borne in upon him that this creature controlling the asteroid had a great deal coming to it. Masterson's eyes gleamed with anger.

"I'd like to see that he gets what's coming to him," he said bitterly. "The sooner the better." There was a sudden shrilling jangle of sirens and alarm bells. The entire asteroid seemed to vibrate.

The girl's beautiful face turned suddenly strangely white and tense.

"They're coming," she gasped.

"Who're coming?" asked Masterson, thrusting her behind him protectingly. The gun in his hand looked even more menacing than usual.

"Who's coming?" he repeated.

"The things that do his bidding," she said hesitatingly. The things…

The jangling of the bells and the wailing of the sirens petered away into a dull oppressive silence. The asteroid ceased its jarring vibrations.

"Anywhere we can hide?" asked Masterson suddenly, taking her by the hand. "You know your way about this place."

"Yes, I have free run of it; he knows I can't get off. He can always send them to send me back."

"Well?" Greg's voice held a question.

"I'm afraid I don't know much about strategy or places that are easily defensible. I'll try and find one somewhere."

"These servants—what are they like?"

She shuddered. "Horrible," she whispered. "As bad as he is."

"What are they like; what do they look like? How strong are they?" asked Masterson. She gave another involuntary shudder.

"They're stronger than human beings like us," she blurted, "and they're just terrible; they're—they're things!" Masterson felt his own courage trying to ebb away. He caught at it desperately, as a drowning man clutches at a straw.

"What kind of things?" he persisted. "Are they monsters like that thing outside? Are they human or do they look human? Are they as big as a house? They can't be that big, or they couldn't get through these passages after us. Have they got teeth or claws or scales?" In answer the girl pointed one trembling hand down the corridor along which she herself had just come.

"Now you try and describe them to me."

"Good God," said Greg. The thing that was coming was remotely like a human being, and yet so remote was the resemblance that it was more a caricature than anything else. It shambled, as though its bones had all been smashed and set in the wrong way. It had two forelimbs, and it walked upright. The eyes in its hideous, twisted face were evil and blemished. The teeth, great fang-like teeth, protruded from a mass of ebullient flash; the forelimbs hung by its side, in the style of a great, anthropoid ape. It was covered with matted red-brown hair.

"Are they all like this?" gasped Masterson.

"No—only some of them. The others are worse."

"Worse! Is there anything worse than that? Good grief, it must have been spawned in hell!"

"It was spawned in the brain of the master," she said quietly, "and that's worse than hell, a thousand thousand times worse. The devil would never take the likes of him."

"I bet he wouldn't. He'd corrupt their morals! Ye gods, a man who could think up a thing like that would probably put the brimstone out!"

The thing was uttering low articulate growlings as it came, a half human, half animal roar, like a beast that has been deprived of its prey. It stood, Masterson would have said at a guess, about eight feet tall, but it looked bigger than its probably was. The great shoulders of the brute rubbed against the side of the corridor as it ambled and lurched along. Its hideous, mottled eyes were fixed on the spaceman and the girl cowering behind him.

"We'll see how he likes a dose of this," said Masterson, and pressed the trigger savagely. There was no result.

"It knows you're here," said the girl. "It's put on the nullifying rays."

"Blast," muttered Masterson. He looked round for some other weapon. There had to be something. If this thing could neutralize the effects of an atomic charge he'd have to try something older.

The awful, claw-like extremity at the end of the creature's arms were the focal point of Greg's gaze. He realized now why the door handles were designed so oddly. The thing had no thumbs. The awful face twisted into the caricature of a grin as it came shambling forward.

"Back away and get ready to dodge up one of the other passages while I deal with this brute," said Masterson. "If I don't get away, run for your life."

"Its no good running," said the girl. "They'll only take me back to him. If it gets you, I'm just back where I started from." There was an awful, dull resignation in her voice.

"It hasn't got me yet," said Masterson, "and I don't intend it to. How strong would you say that brute is?"

"It can open that door as easily as you or I could put a finger through a piece of tissue paper."

He remembered the space suit. Among the tools on it was an axe! It seemed the ideal weapon. "Move," he urged. "Third passage on the right as you go back! My space suit is lying there. I left it as a decoy. There's an axe on the belt."

He spoke as he ran, reached the space suit, unsnapped the axe with fingers that shook a little, and turned to meet the beast in the wider space where the corridors met. The thing continued to give vent to the hideous guttural sounds. They seemed very appropriate from so dreadful a throat.

One of the great raking talons swung toward him.

"No, you don't," said Masterson sharply, and swung with the axe. The creature backed away with a scream that was more expressive of pain than anything else.

"Ah, so you're vulnerable, are you, you brute? Then see how you like this!" The girl had backed away into the passage and covered her face with her hands. The thing came on again, swinging the undamaged claw. Masterson slashed at that. There was another scream of pain. The hideous distorted face was only a few feet from his own. The axe was short but heavy. He held it in both hands and swung down with the strength of a pole-axe. There was a satisfying thud as the axe went home in the enemy. It fell down and lay still.

"Got it," said Masterson. "Got the swine! Astra, don't be afraid; it's dead! Astra! Astra!" he spun round, shouting. The corridor was empty. There was nothing but echoing darkness. From the darkness, seemingly very distant and far away, he heard a faint guttural laugh, and a girl's faint scream for help.

"Darn!" he swore savagely. He called himself every kind of fool under the sun. He knew nothing of these labyrinths, but the creatures, servants of the master, did. Even as he had been laying this brute low, one of the things had come from the other direction and dragged the girl away. The question was along which passage? He listened again, and then, switching on his torch, and with the bloodstained axe held at the ready in his strong right arm, the useless gun thrust into the belt at his waist, he hurried off in what he hoped was the right direction. It was eerie, following that slim pencil of white light along the corridor. The girl's own green vapor light apparatus had disappeared along with her, and he realized how inefficient his own light was. It was looking at everything through the wrong end of a telescope. His field of vision was very badly limited, but he had to keep on. He didn't know how it had happened; he couldn't even begin to understand. He had always been a lonely, adventurous, shyly masculine type of man; a man's man, an adventurer, a man who had never allowed himself to have time for women. And now he found himself like a tongue-tied schoolboy in the presence of this beautiful princess, who was a helpless prisoner of the foul thing that controlled this miniature world. He knew that his bold, carefree heart had been bound; he knew that he was held as no force field ever could hold him. He was desperately in love with a girl that he had met only a few minutes ago. Was it minutes, or was it an eternity? Was it possible that he had just met her for the first time? His mind went winging back over the great fields of philosophical speculation. Was there any truth in the reincarnation stories? he wondered. Had he met her before in another world, another life? Had he been separated from her by time and space; had they lived and loved a million years and a million worlds away? Was there, after all, an answer to his apparently insoluble question about the soul of man? Was there a tiny external inextinguishable flame, a tiny spark, a glowing, incandescent immortal something hidden within flesh and blood, and had that tiny spark known that girl before somewhere? Beside that immortal spark, time and space were meaningless. Distance had no real objective existence. Time was as irrelevant as a child's toy to a full-grown man. He knew, deeply intuitively and instinctively, knew by the depths of this passion that had flared up within him, that it must be so. The feelings that he had were too great, too enormous. They had to have always been; just as he knew that if there was a God, then that God must be an eternal being, so he knew his feelings must be eternal. They were too great to have been born out of the complex nerve endings which he called his physical brain. There was something in that feeling that went beyond physical attraction, though he would have been the last to deny that the girl was attractive. He didn't want her in the sense that a cave man wanted a mate to share his rough skin bed and raise his young. He wanted her as a companion, not for a time alone, but forever and forever, and for all the tomorrows that forever might hold. Would he be risking his life pursuing her into the depths of this crazy asteroid if it was purely a physical instinct that urged him on? He realized that it had to be more than a mere instinct. The strongest instinct of all was self-preservation, and when two basic instincts come into conflict it is the stronger which wins, and he knew that self-preservation was the strongest of all. That was basic psychology, first-year college stuff.