One Against the Moon (15 page)

"Good," said the Russian rocketeer. "Only how do we get to the surface? I have a space suit, which is probably in Von Borck's cave. Von Borck must have a suit too, if we can find it, though I think it will be much too big for you."

Robin explained about his homemade space suit. Piotr was quite impressed. The suit which was packed in Robin's big sack was in the prison cave where it had been thrown and they unpacked it. Piotr examined the helmet with interest. "Very good. It might work. It seems airtight."

"I tested it under water," said Robin. "It didn't leak any bubbles."

The Russian nodded. "But I don't believe your big bag of air would work. How would you blow it up in the first place? I think you would have had a hard time anyway. But fortunately there are three oxygen tanks on my own suit. I can detach one for your use."

He nodded, looking over the homemade helmet. In the half light of the cave Robin looked at his new friend with interest. There was something about his face which struck an odd chord in Robin's mind. Something about him brought back faint, almost forgotten memories, dim frightening memories of bombs exploding, of falling buildings, of a frightened child, and great loss.

Robin suddenly asked, "How did you learn to speak English so well?"

Piotr looked up. "I was wondering when you would ask that. I always knew English, I spoke it as a little child. When I was found by the soldiers in Dresden, I was but a little boy, maybe six or seven. I spoke some German, but mostly I spoke English. They could find no sign of my parents, my family, so they took me back to Russia with them. I studied English too in school, but I always knew it."

Robin started, his heart pounding very strangely. "Where did you get your name? That's Russian."

The other stared at him hard. "No, it's not. My name—Piotr Ivanovitch Kareff—means Peter the son of John Kareff."

Robin was sure he knew now, but he doggedly insisted on his next question. "My father's name was also John. John Carew. And how do you spell your last name?"

"Why," said Peter, a curious smile beginning to force its way to his lips, "just like it's pronounced in Russia—Kareff—C-A-R-E-W—Kareff."

And at the same instant, tears of joy sprang uncontrollably to their eyes and the two brothers grabbed each other, laughing and pounding one another's back in wild reunion.

Korree stared uncomprehendingly at the curious sight of two Earth men apparently taken leave of their senses.

After they had recovered from their outburst of enthusiasm the two let go of each other and sat down out of breath. "Well, this is really amazing," said Robin finally. "Here I have to go to the Moon to find my brother. You know I really do not remember very much."

"Of course not. You could not have been more than four years old when we parted. I was about three years older, I guess. Perhaps we can put what we do know together and find out what did happen. I know that Father and Mother were interned in Germany by the Nazis. That when the war was nearing its end, the Germans started to move them and other prisoners around. In the confusion, we were stranded somewhere and there was heavy bombardment going on. I lost you and Mom and Dad somewhere, wandered by myself for many days. I was with a band of Russian people who had been taken to Germany by the Nazis to do slave labor. They were making their way back to their homes and I clung to them. So the Soviet Army simply counted me among its own orphans and took me back. But maybe you know more about our family?" Peter looked expectantly at his younger brother.

Robin nodded. "I don't remember what happened. I was too young. I only remember being terribly frightened and alone and things going bang. When I was older I looked up the orphanage records. It seems that Dad had been some sort of business agent in Germany and when the U.S. got into the war he was interned along with Mom and the two of us. Evidently they were killed in some sort of bombardment at the war's end and I was the only one who survived. You are listed as having been killed with them, according to the American Army report."

Korree was moving restlessly during this conversation, not understanding very much of it. Now he pulled at Robin's sleeve, pointed. "Look. Cheeky come."

Sure enough Robin's simian pet had finally found them. Evidently having easily avoided capture by the Glassies, the little animal had been searching for his master. Now his little head appeared around the edge of the big rock that sealed their cave. At a whistle from Robin, Cheeky pushed his way through the narrow gap and scampered to his friend.

Peter watched the monkey with interest. "I wonder if we can't make use of your pet to help us get out of here," he said. "We really ought to start thinking of escape. I don't know when Von Borck will take the notion to start something bad."

"Well, let's start planning it out," said Robin. "First, we ought to see what we have to work with. I think that the Glassies simply threw everything I had with me in here too. That should make things fairly simple. What did they have of yours?"

They went over to the pile of things, with Korree along to light the way, and examined it. Everything was present. Of Peter's property, his space suit was there, intact, with its three shoulder oxygen tanks. Robin picked up a gun belt that had evidently been part of the outfit, but the holster was empty. Peter commented, "Von Borck took it when he turned on me. He is armed also."

But Robin noticed that the German rocket pilot had evidently not thought to take the pack of additional pistol ammunition that was clipped to the belt. He withdrew a clip and turned it over, then said:

"We should be able to use these to start a diversion of some sort. If we can get their attention elsewhere, we can easily push aside the rock that seals our cave and make a run for it. We ought not to wait for Von Borck to make up his mind."

"Ah yes," said his brother. "There is good gunpowder in those bullets. We could make a small bomb for a fuse or a display."

"I think a bomb will do the trick. Let's get at it." Robin suited his action to the words. He sat down, spread a clean piece of cloth he found among Peter's property on the floor and began to pull the cartridges apart and gently shake out the powder.

Back on Earth, such a job would have been hard without instruments and great force. Here on the Moon, it was not easy but their strength enabled them to twist off the metal rims. Soon they had a neat little pile of explosive powder gathered together.

This they packed into a small glass tube among Peter's explorational equipment until it was tight and filled the space. They twisted a dry fiber until it was cordlike and rolled it in a little remaining powder till it was thoroughly blackened. This they inserted in the end of the tube as a fuse.

"Now we should get our stuff together and get ready," said Robin. "I don't think it would be a good idea to go back the way I came in; we'd just be cutting ourselves off. The idea is to reach your rocket on the surface. Which way did you come?"

Peter indicated the opposite direction. "I came in through a hole rather high in the wall, came down here along a narrow ledge. I can find it again, I think."

"Then let's get into our equipment and get ready," said Robin. He began to load his huge pack again, but Peter intervened.

"You really can leave some of that behind now," he said. "Make it easier to move fast. Besides we've got some narrow places to squeeze through on our way to the surface. I'd suggest leaving most of the food behind. Take enough for a couple of meals more. You'll only need your space helmet and space clothes."

Peter was climbing into his space suit, an airtight rubberized affair with electric heating grids. This on, he put on his space helmet for the sake of convenience, though he left the little panel of the face window open. Robin slung his own helmet from his shoulder—its vision plate, being homemade, was fixed in place.

When they were ready, they went over to the entrance and peeked through the narrow, open space. "Why, it's dark outside!" said Robin.

Where before the deep cleft had been lighted by the white light of the outside sun, now it was dark. It was not as dark as the bubble-caverns below had been, for a faint light still penetrated down from the ceiling. They could make out the darker shadows of the surrounding growth, and the Glassies outside were moving figures each illuminated by a small circle of light from their head stalks.

"Evidently the sun is going down on the Moon's surface," said Peter. "It was low on the horizon when my rocket arrived. I wonder how cold it will get in this place?"

"It seems to be a little colder already," said Robin. "This may bring Von Borck out of his cave to see what's happening."

Robin called to Korree, explained what they were about to do. Then while Korree kept a hand on Cheeky, the two Earthlings leaned their shoulders against the big boulder and pushed it aside easily—an effort which would have blocked Moon muscles.

Korree had dimmed his headlight and the two men kneeled down and carefully lighted the fuse of their bomb with Robin's flint and steel. The end of the fiber sputtering, Robin took Cheeky and pressed the glass vial into the monkey's paws. "Over there," he whispered to the monkey urgently, and pointed a finger to the darkness opposite the direction in which they would be heading. "Take it over there and leave it," he whispered.

He'd often taught Cheeky to fetch and carry, and he hoped the animal would obey. It did. Grabbing the glass tube with its smoking fuse, the monkey dashed off into the darkness.

"I hope he remembers to drop it and come back," said Robin. Peter nodded. "Let's get started."

The men and Korree started slowly out of the cave. There was a very faint dimness about them, a starlight glow that was just enough to distinguish the presence of objects. They moved slowly, avoiding the telltale lights of passing Glassies. Korree kept his own stalklight dark.

Suddenly the peace and darkness were split by a sharp, violent explosion somewhere behind them. Immediately following was a screeching, recognizable as the sound of an angry monkey and almost as frightening.

For an instant there was stunned silence and then pandemonium broke loose. Glassies came running in all directions, slamming into each other, not knowing what had happened. Some were running away from the noise, some were running to investigate the terrible bang, and others were simply running for cover in the caves. In the mad helter-skelter, Robin and Peter and Korree ran as fast as they could to the far end of the cleft.

They dodged tree stalks, pushed through other patches, stumbled occasionally over obstacles, but carried on. Robin noticed even as he ran that the vegetation was already drying up and dying rapidly. The cessation of sunlight had probably been quite abrupt as the sun had sunk behind whatever crater walls made up the horizon above them. Evidently the growth here was geared to a short, heavy life and sudden death.

Over the frightened, high-pitched voices of the Glassies, Robin now heard another sound, the roaring voice of a man. Von Borck had been brought out. He was yelling something, shouting angrily.

Peter called to Robin as they dashed along. "He's trying to get them to order. He knows we did it. But they don't understand him."

On they ran. Now behind them they heard some signs of pursuit. Evidently Peter was overoptimistic. Somehow Von Borck must have managed to get the Glassies to realize his meaning. Hitting some and shoving others, he had clearly gotten a few, who were still in awe of his "magic," to follow him. They could hear the sounds of stalks cracking far behind them as they ran. But they had a good head start.

Robin had been hanging on to Korree's arm, dragging him with him in huge, leaping steps. But as they dashed on, he realized that Peter was slowing his own steps to accommodate and that the sounds of Von Borck's rush behind them were beginning to be louder.

Korree evidently realized this too. "Leave me," he gasped. "I make out." With a twist he slipped out of Robin's hand and ran into the darkness.

"Wait!" yelled Robin after him, stopping. But Peter turned back, grabbed his brother. "He's right. He'll be better off here. We couldn't get him to the surface anyway. Come on! Quick!"

With a sudden lurch of his heart and lump in his throat Robin recognized the truth of this. He grabbed Peter's hand and the two of them started off faster than ever, heading for the far wall in huge Earthborn leaps.

It was an eerie experience dashing madly along in the near blackness of the cleft. The faint glow which came from above, probably only the light of a million million faraway stars, filtered through the curious translucent material of the cleft top, serving only to make patches of blackness against patches of even greater blackness. Far behind them a faint flickering indicated the movements of the natives. Now and then a startling flicker would prove the presence of some startled Moonworm, uncovered as a stalk was thrown over in the rush.

Behind them they could hear a crashing and every now and then a shouted word. Robin wondered what was being said, but Peter, sensing his wonder, gasped out, "He's shouting ... the word for devils! When ... he came to ... he believed himself ... in some sort ... of Troll kingdom ... with me ... as a ... devil."

"Crazy! Stark raving mad!" shouted Robin back.

On they went. The helmet banging against Robin's back made him feel clumsy and odd, yet he moved through the air with the agility of a phantom.

Now, suddenly, there loomed a dark wall before them and they caught themselves back just in time to keep from smashing headlong into it. "The wall!" shouted Robin.

Peter pulled his arm, started hurrying along to one side. He gave a sharp cry of relief, pulled Robin to him. "Here we are, the ledge. Go on up!"

Peter started off. Robin followed as fast as was possible. There was evidently a thin ledge running up the side of the cave. In places it was a gentle slope angling upward, in other parts there was a sudden step. In their haste there was no time to pick and choose their steps. Several times Robin tripped, almost falling, but he had built up such a momentum that he simply slammed and banged over the obstacles, charging up the ledge with a luck and agility that would have made a mountain goat jealous.