Triplanetary
of a peculiar odor, was eminently breathable, and even though the vessel
was motionless in space, an almost-normal gravitation gave them a large
fraction of their usual weight. The space suits were removed with care,
and after the three had been relieved of their pistols and other
articles which the Nevians thought might prove to be weapons, the
strange paralysis was lifted entirely. The earthly clothing puzzled the
captors immensely, but so strenuous were the objections raised to its
removal, but they did not press the point, but fell back to study their
find in detail.
Then faced each other the representatives of the civilizations of two
widely separated solar systems. The Nevians studied the human beings
with interest and curiosity blended largely with loathing and repulsion;
the three Terrestrials regarded the unmoving, expressionless "faces"--if
those coned heads could be said to possess such things--with horror and
disgust, as well as with other emotions, each according to his type and
training. For to human eyes the Nevian is a fearful thing. Even to-day
there are few Terrestrials--or Solarians for that matter--who can look
at a Nevian, eye to eye, without feeling a creeping of the skin and
experiencing a "gone" sensation in the pit of the stomach. The horny,
wrinkled, drought-resisting Martian, whom we all know and rather like,
is a hideous being indeed. The bat-eyed, colorless, hairless,
practically skinless Venerian is worse. But they both are, after all,
remote cousins of Terra's humanity, and we get along with them quite
well whenever we are compelled to visit Mars or Venus. But the Nevians--
The horizontal, flat, fish body is not so bad, even supported as it is
by four, short, powerful, scaly, flat-footed legs; and terminating as it
does in the weird, four-vaned tail. The neck, even, is endurable,
although it is long and flexible, heavily scaled, and is carried in
whatever eye-wringing loops, knots, or angles the owner considers most
convenient or ornamental at the time. Even the smell of a Nevian--a
malodorous reek of over-ripe fish--does in time become tolerable,
especially if sufficiently disguised with creosote, which purely
Terrestrial chemical is the most highly prized perfume of Nevia. But the
head! It is that member that makes the Nevian so appalling to earthly
eyes, for it is a thing utterly foreign to all Solarian history or
experience. As most Tellurians already know, it is fundamentally a
massive cone, covered with scales, based spearhead-like upon the neck.
Four great sea-green, triangular eyes are spaced equidistant from each
other about half way up the cone. The pupils are contractile at will,
like the eyes of the cat, permitting the Nevian to see equally well in
any ordinary extreme of light or darkness. Immediately below each eye
springs out a long, jointless, boneless, tentacular arm; an arm which at
its extremity divides into eight delicate and sensitive, but very
strong, fingers. Below each arm is a mouth: a beaked, needle-tusked
orifice of dire potentialities. Finally, under the overhanging edge of
the cone-shaped head are the delicately frilled organs which serve
either as gills or as nostrils and lungs, as may be desired. To other
Nevians the eyes and other features are highly expressive, but to us
they appear utterly cold and unmoving. Terrestrial senses can detect no
changes of expression in a Nevian's "face." Such were the frightful
beings at whom the three prisoners stared with sinking hearts.
But if we human beings have always considered Nevians grotesque and
repulsive, the feeling has always been mutual. For those "monstrous"
beings are a highly intelligent and extremely sensitive race, and
our--to us--trim and graceful human forms seems to them the very
quintessence of malformation and hideousness.
"Good Heavens, Conway!" Clio exclaimed, shrinking against Costigan as
his left arm flashed around her. "What monstrosities! And they can't
talk--not one of them has made a sound--suppose they can be deaf and
dumb?"
But at the same time Nerado was addressing his fellows.
"What hideous, deformed creatures they are! Truly a low form of life,
even though they do possess some intelligence. They cannot talk, and
have made no signs of having heard our words to them--do you suppose
that they communicate by sight? That those weird contortions of their
peculiarly placed organs serve as speech?"
Thus both sides, neither realizing that the other had spoken. For the
Nevian voice is pitched so high that the lowest note audible to them is
far above our limit of hearing. The shrillest note of a Terrestrial
piccolo is to them so profoundly low that it cannot be heard.
"We have much to do." Nerado turned away from the captives. "We must
postpone further study of the specimens until we have taken aboard a
full cargo of the iron which is so plentiful here."
"What shall we do with them, sir?" asked one of the Nevian officers.
"Lock them in one of the storage rooms?"
"Oh, no! They might die there, and we must by all means keep them in
good condition, to be studied most carefully by the fellows of the
College of Science. What a commotion there will be when we bring in this
group of strange creatures, living proof that there are other suns
possessing planets; planets which are supporting organic and intelligent
life! You may put them in three communicating rooms, say in the fourth
section--they will undoubtedly require light and exercise. Lock all
exits, of course, but it would be best to leave the doors between the
rooms unlocked, so that they can be together or apart, as they choose.
Since the smallest one, the female, stays so close to the larger male,
it may be that they are mates. But since we know nothing of their habits
or customs, it will be best to give them all possible freedom compatible
with safety."
Nerado turned back to his instruments and three of the frightful crew
came up to the human beings. One walked away, waving a couple of arms in
an unmistakable signal that the prisoners were to follow him. The three
obediently set out after him, the other two guards falling behind.
"Now's our best chance!" Costigan muttered, as they passed through a low
doorway and entered a narrow corridor. "Watch that one ahead of you,
Clio--hold him for a second if you can. Bradley, you and I'll take the
two behind us--now!"
Costigan stopped and whirled. Seizing a cable-like arm, he pulled the
outlandish head down, the while the full power of his mighty right leg
drove a heavy service boot into the place where scaly neck and head
joined. The Nevian fell, and instantly Costigan leaped at the leader,
ahead of the girl. Leaped; but dropped to the floor, again paralyzed.
For the Nevian leader had been alert, his four eyes covering the entire
circle of vision, and he had acted rapidly. Not in time to stop
Costigan's first Berserk attack--the First Officer's reactions were
practically instantaneous, and he moved like chain lightning--but in
time to retain command of the situation. Another Nevian appeared and,
while the stricken guard was recovering, all four arms wrapped tightly
around his convulsively looping, knotting neck, the three helpless
Terrestrials were lifted into the air and carried bodily into the
quarters to which Nerado had assigned them. Not until they had been
placed upon cushions in the middle room and the heavy metal doors had
been locked upon them did they again find themselves able to use arms or
legs.
"Well, that's another round we lose," Costigan commented, cheerfully. "A
guy can't mix it very well when he can neither kick, strike, nor bite. I
expected those lizards to rough me up, but they didn't."
"They don't want to hurt us. They want to take us home with them,
wherever that is, as curiosities, like wild animals or something,"
decided the girl, shrewdly. "They're pretty bad, of course, but I like
them a lot better than I do Roger and his robots, anyway."
"I think you have the right idea, Miss Marsden," Bradley rumbled.
"That's it, exactly. I feel like a bear in a cage. I should think you'd
feel worse than ever. What chance has an animal of escaping from a
menagerie?"
"These animals, lots. I'm feeling better and better all the time," Clio
answered, and her serene bearing bore out her words. "You two got us out
of that horrible place of Roger's, and I'm pretty sure that you will get
us away from here, somehow or other. They may think we're stupid
animals, but before you two and the Secret Service get done with them
they'll have another think coming."
"That's the old fight, Clio!" cheered Costigan. "I haven't got it
figured out as close as you have, but I see you, eye to eye. These
four-legged fish carry considerably heavier stuff than Roger did, I'm
thinking; but they'll be up against something themselves pretty quick,
that is NO light-weight, believe me!"
"Do you _know_ something, or are you just whistling in the dark?"
Bradley demanded.
"I know a little; not much. The Science Service has been working on a
new ship for a long time; a ship to travel so much faster than light
that it can go anywhere in the Galaxy and back in a month or so. New
sub-ether drive, new power, new armament, new everything. Only bad thing
about it is that it doesn't work so good yet--it's fuller of "bugs" than
a Venerian's kitchen. It has blown up five times that I know of, and has
killed twenty-nine men. But when they get it licked they'll _have
something!_"
"When, or if?" asked Bradley, pessimistically.
"I said _when!_" snapped Costigan, his voice cutting like a knife. "When
that gang goes after anything they get it, and when they get it it
stays...." He broke off abruptly and his voice lost its edge. "Sorry.
Didn't mean to get high, but I think we'll have help, if we can keep our
heads up a while. And it looks good--these are first-class cages they've
given us. All the comforts of home, even to lookout plates. Let's see
what's going on, shall we?"
After some experimenting with the unfamiliar controls Costigan learned
how to operate the Nevian visiray, and upon the plate they saw the Cone
of Battle hurling itself toward Roger's planetoid. They saw the pirate
fleet rush out to do battle with Triplanetary's massed forces, and with
bated breath they watched every maneuver of that epic battle to its
savagely sacrificial end. And that same battle was being watched, also
with intense interest, by the Nevians.
"It is indeed a blood-thirsty combat," mused Nerado at his observation
plate. "And it is peculiar--or rather, probably only to be expected from
a race of such a low stage of development--that they employ only
ether-borne forces. Warfare seems universal among primitive
types--indeed, it is not so long ago that our own cities, few in number
though they are, ceased fighting each other and combined against the
semi-civilized fishes of the greater deeps."
He fell silent, and for many minutes watched the furious battle between
the two navies of the void. That conflict ended, he watched the
Triplanetary fleet reform its battle cone and rush upon the planetoid.
"Destruction, always destruction," he sighed, adjusting his power
switches. "Since they are bent upon mutual destruction I can see no
purpose in refraining from destroying all of them. We need the iron, and
they are a useless race."
He launched his softening, converting field of dull red energy. Vast as
that field was, it could not encompass the whole of the fleet, but half
of the lip of the gigantic cone soon disappeared, its component vessels
subsiding into a sluggishly flowing stream of allotropic iron. Instantly
the fleet abandoned the attack upon the planetoid and swung its cone
around, to bring the flame-erupting axis to bear upon the inchoate