The Buccaneers of Venus Collection (Three novels in one volume!) (7 page)

    Grandon marked their course, and noted that they flew straight toward a distant mountain peak from which a wisp of smoke lazily ascended. If Vernia had been carried off by grampites, this was the direction in which they must have taken her.

    He walked around the rim of the lake, cut through the surrounding tree ferns and emerged on a broad, rolling plain that was covered with a carpet of resilient moss. Several hours were consumed in crossing the plain, then he came to another fern forest.

    A short walk brought him abruptly to the edge of a small, crystalline lake, similar to the one he had just left. Instantly he leaped back in the shadow of the trees, for the place was literally alive with grampites. They were apparently engaged in harvesting the underwater fruit, and he watched the process with interest.

    Skirting the lake with great care, he again pressed forward toward his smoking guide post. He dodged and circled several more grampite-infested lakes. Then he came to a chain of low-lying, rocky hills that were without vegetation of any kind.

    As he clambered over the jagged rocks, he noted a pungent odor in the air like that of sulphur, or perhaps some sulphurous compound. The atmosphere grew warmer and warmer until the heat was almost unbearable, and the acrid odor stung his nostrils and smarted his lungs. The rocks over which he scrambled now took on a uniform greenish-yellow hue.

    Several times Grandon had wondered why these flying monsters had not been exterminated by the soldiers of the princess. He learned the reason as he brought up at the edge of a body of boiling water more than half a mile in width, and stretching in a broad, sweeping curve to his right and left. From this caldron rose greenish-yellow vapor, which would have asphyxiated anyone attempting to cross in a boat.

    The huge mountain was in plain view now, its peak less than a mile away. Myriads of grampites swarmed about the summit.

    Some of the incoming messengers were laden with fruit, others with the bodies of animals; and one, which flew over Grandon's head, carried the limp form of a sailor, its talons hooked through his belt. Grandon aimed his tork and was about to press the button, when the thought came that perhaps the man still lived, and a shot would precipitate both victim and captor into the bubbling, hissing sulphur lake.

    As it was evident that he could not possibly cross the fuming barrier before him, he decided to follow the margin in the hope that he might find some means of ingress. Accordingly, he turned to the right, keeping just out of reach of the deadly vapors, and traveled as swiftly as the rugged character of the rocky formation would permit.

    He had covered a distance of more than six miles before he brought up at the point from which he had started. The mountain was completely surrounded by boiling, fuming sulphurous water!

    Disheartened by his discovery, and at the point of exhaustion, Grandon sat down on a boulder to plan his next move. Obviously he could not hope to rescue the girl now. No doubt she was already dead, or would be, soon.

    No, he could not save her, but he would die avenging her.

    As he rose to carry out his purpose, his attention was attracted by an airship, similar in shape to Vorn Vangal's, but considerably larger, flying low over the rocky hills. While he watched, it made a landing less than a quarter of a mile from him, and two men stepped from the cab. Without a moment's hesitation, Grandon ran toward them.

    One of the men raised a cylindrical object to his eyes, evidently a telescope, and pointed it toward the mountain. He gazed for some time, then handed it to his companion. Both were so engrossed by the strange sight before them that they did not see two menacing forms swooping down on them from behind.

    Grandon saw, and shouted a warning, but too late. The curved talons hooked their quarry with unerring precision, and both men were carried struggling, out over the boiling water.

    The man with the telescope turned and beat his assailant with the instrument, gripping the furry belly with one hand as he swung his weapon with the other. Apparently he succeeded in breaking a wing, for captor and captive plunged to death a moment later. The other Olban, still struggling, was carried out of sight.

    Saddened and infuriated, Grandon walked to the airship just as he reached the side of the craft, darkness descended.

    Grandon groped his way to the Olban airship in the pitchy darkness. While it was yet light, he had noticed that the side door of the domelike cab stood open. A brilliant flash from the volcano, reflected by the clouds, the boiling water, and the crystal dome, showed him his objective. He entered the cab and closed the door.

    Moving his hands carefully about the interior, he felt two cushioned seats and a number of handles, levers and buttons. At random, he pressed a small button, whereupon a tiny light cast its radiance down on him from the top of the dome.

    For a moment he was bewildered by the imposing array of levers, handles and buttons. Then, to his delight, he saw that each was marked in the simple phonetic characters of the universal language which had been taught him by Vorn Vangal.

    He seized a lever marked "Cab Control" and moved it to the left. Immediately the cab revolved to the right, sliding smoothly and noiselessly. He pressed downward on the lever and the cab slanted backward. Being in the form of a perfect sphere it could not only be turned from side to side, but could be tilted forward or backward in its socket. Upon his straightening the lever, the cab resumed its original position.

    The advantage of such an arrangement was obvious. From the front of the craft, to right and left, projected two guns labeled "Mattork." The mattorks were weapons similar in construction to torks, but much larger, and firing projectiles of far heavier caliber. Another projected through the keel. By a touch of the cab control lever these mattorks could be trained on an enemy in any position.

    Grandon loaded one mattork with explosive metal bullets and the other with deadly glass bullets; the keel-mattork was already loaded with explosive metal bullets. What a battle he would give the accursed grampites in the morning!

    Constant thoughts of Vernia dominated his mind. His reason told him that she must be dead, but despite this, hope persisted.

    As he hoped, he wished intensely—earnestly. Then suddenly his wish bore fruit, for the airship began slowly to rise from the ground.

    He had once listened, with scant attention, to a lecture by a noted para-psychologist. He recalled dimly the assertion that every living human being is endowed at birth with all the power of telekinesis after a fashion, but needed practice to develop and perfect it. Before making for the mountain he sailed about in the air for a considerable time, practicing the turning, elevating, and lowering of his craft by purely mental control. At length, feeling that he was master of the airship, he made for the mountain peak.

    Very cautiously he made a landing on the outer rim of the crater, then crept to the top to reconnoiter. As he peered over the brink, it was as if the most terrible dreams of Milton and Dante had been fused into one to form the fearful reality before him. There in the blood-red glow of the molten lava swarmed thousands of the demoniac inhabitants of this planetary inferno, croaking hoarsely to each other as they moved about on the ledges or fluttered from place to place. Mingled in the bedlam of sounds that came up to him, were the bleating and cries of countless animals in the pits.

    Directly beneath him, a huge grampite emerged from a cave and heaved a human body far out into the fiery lake. Grandon recognized the uniform of the Olban officer who had been captured at the side of the airship, a few hours before.

    Grandon walked stealthily around the edge of the pit, hoping to find some path by which he might make his way, unnoticed, to the ledges beneath. He had gone perhaps a third of the way around the mountain top when he heard a scream of terror. It was the voice of Vernia.

    Startled to instant action, Grandon scrambled and slid precipitately down to the top ledge, leaped the ten feet to the second and a like distance to the third, and ran directly to the pit from which the sounds emanated. Twelve feet down he saw Vernia struggling with her captor, while two terrified little animals hugged the wall. In an instant he was at her side. A stroke of his blade severed the arm that gripped her; another sent the head of the monster rolling.

    "Come," he said, "we must get out of here at once."

    "But how?" she asked. "The walls are as smooth as glass. I'm afraid escape from this pit is impossible. If we could fly…"

    Her words were cut short by an onslaught from above. Grandon had been seen and a general alarm had been sounded.

    With his back to the wall and the girl crouching at his side, Grandon fought desperately with sword and knife. The pile of carcasses before him grew breast high before he realized that they were likely to be smothered beneath them. Calling to the girl to follow, he leaped atop the pile, and fought from that position. After that he constantly shifted from side to side, while the pit continued to fill with slain assailants, who came on in increasing numbers.

    Torn and bleeding from many wounds, he at length stood with head and shoulders above the edge of the pit. This left him open to attack from the rear, and forced him to adopt new tactics. Bringing his tork into play, he sent a spray of bullets about him in a circle, temporarily demoralizing the attackers. The slight respite gave him time to assist Vernia from the pit, and together they ran into the cave.

    They found a narrow passageway at the back of the cave, and groped their way in the blackness for some distance before they came to another narrow gallery crossing it at right angles. Soon they were in a veritable labyrinth of caves and galleries, leading farther into the mountain.

    They had wandered for more than an hour in the subterranean maze when a narrow-lighted opening appeared ahead. Very cautiously Grandon led the way toward this opening, hoping it would offer an avenue of escape. When they were within a short distance of it, he went ahead alone to reconnoiter. A moment later he returned, enjoining the utmost silence to his companion, and together they tiptoed forward.

    They were at the rear door of a cave similar to the one through which they had entered the mountain, but considerably larger. Within was a grampite family in repose. There were twelve individuals in the family group, the huge male, his mate, six tiny specimens on which the down had just begun to appear, and four about half grown, all hanging upside down by their sharp, curved toenails, which were hooked in crevices in the wall. The father of the family hung near the cave mouth, the mother depended from one side with the six members of her latest litter beside her, and the half grown offsprings occupied positions on the opposite wall.

    "Come," he whispered. "I believe we can get out without disturbing them. If they waken I will use the tork."

    Very quietly, they made their way toward the cave mouth. When they reached the center of the floor the male grampite stirred uneasily, and Grandon held his weapon in readiness, but the creature merely stretched one wing a bit, then folded it and resumed his slumber. A moment later they stood on the topmost ledge with fifteen feet of steep crater wall to negotiate before they could reach the rim.

    They succeeded in clambering to the top, unobserved, and to his inestimable relief, Grandon sighted the glistening dome of the Olban airship only a hundred yards from where they emerged.

    Vernia's eyes were wide with amazement as he opened the door of the cab and seated her on the cushions. "An Olban airship!" she gasped. "Where did you get it? Why, I thought only trained Olban officers could run them."

    While she spoke, they were mounting high in the air. She turned and looked him squarely in the eyes. "Grandon of Terra, have you deceived me? Are you of Olba?"

    He related how he had acquired the airship, and she shuddered as he told of the death of the two officers who had brought it thither.

    "As for deceiving you, my princess," he concluded, "I should sooner tear out my right eye."

    She laid her hand gently on his arm. "It makes me very happy to hear you say that."

    He thrilled at her touch and words, but did not turn his head. The craft was now poised far above the glowing crater.

    "What are you going to do?" she asked.

    "I'm going to teach those devils a lesson," he replied. "The ship of the two men they murdered will now wreak vengeance on them."

    They descended swiftly until the airship was on a level with the topmost ledge. Grandon pulled the cab control lever, until both mattorks were trained over the side, then circled the crater and poured a deadly fusillade among the bewildered grampites. Soon the air was black with the creatures, dozens of whom attacked the craft, but without success. A number of them swarmed on the deck and endeavored to get at the inmates of the cab.

    "Give me your tork," said Vernia.

    He unbuckled his belt and handed her the weapon. She opened the door a little way and soon cleared the deck of enemies. Then, while Grandon raked ledge after ledge, she shot down those of the flying attackers who came within range. Most of them fell into the fiery lake, and soon the air was filled with the stench of scorched flesh and hair.

    For more than an hour they circled the crater, at the end of which time not a living grampite was in sight. The ledges were strewn with carcasses, and the lake of lava was sending up black clouds of smoke as it consumed those brought down by the tork. Grandon estimated that at least two-thirds of the population of that crater had been exterminated; the others had been driven to cover.

    The avenging craft again rose high above the mountain.

    "Now to return you to Reabon," said Grandon. "Can you tell me which way it lies from here?"

    "As I recall it, this place lies across the Azpok Ocean, directly south of Reabon. If you will steer due north, we should be able to arrive on ground that will be familiar to me, and we can then easily make our way to the capital."