“Nuts to that,” retorted the captain. “We’re so close that their detectors are tracking us already. We’re picking up their identification-calls and we can’t answer, not knowing their code. Pretty soon it will sink into their heads that we’re hostile. They’ll send up a shower of proximity-fused missiles, as usual too late. The moment we dive below their radar horizon they’ll start a full-scale aerial search covering five hundred miles around the point where we disappeared.” He gave Mowry a warning frown. “And you, chum, would be dead centre of that circle.”
“Looks like you’ve done this job a few times before.” prompted Mowry, hoping for a revealing response.
Refusing to take the bait, the captain continued, “Once we’re running just above tree-top level they can’t track us radar-wise. So we’ll duck down a couple of thousand miles from your dropping-point and make for there on a cockeyed. course. It’s my responsibility to dump you where you want to be put without betraying you to the whole lousy world. If I don’t succeed the entire trip has been wasted. Leave this to me, will you?”
“Sure,” agreed Mowry, abashed. “Anything you say.”
They went out, leaving him to brood. Presently the alarm-gong clanged upon the cabin wall, he grabbed handholds and hung on while the ship made a couple of violent swerves, first one way, then the other. He could see nothing, hear nothing save the dull moan of steering-jets, but his imagination pictured a cluster of fifty ominous vapour-trails rising from below, fifty long, explosive cylinders eagerly sniffing around for the scent of alien metal.
Eleven more times the alarm sounded, followed at once by aerial acrobatics. By now the ship resounded to the soft whistle of passing atmosphere which built up to a faint howl as it thickened.
Getting near now.
Mowry gazed absently at his fingers. They were steady but sweaty. There were queer electric thrills running up and down his spine. His knees felt weak and his stomach felt weaker. He prayed for enough resolution to land without spewing in plain sight of everybody. Hell of a hero he’d look if he did that.
Far away across the void was a planet with a fully comprehensive card-system and because of that he was about to have his pointed head shoved into the lion’s mouth. Mentally he damned card-systems, those who’d invented them, those who operated them. The cussing relieved his feelings somewhat but did not restore strength to his knees.
With the arrival so close the philosophic resignation that had sustained him had now evaporated. He fidgeted nervily around, occasionally grabbing the handhold heartily wishing the whole dirty business were done with and over.
By the time propulsion ceased and the ship stood silently upon its antigravs above the selected spot he had generated the fatalistic impatience of a man facing a major operation that no longer can be avoided. He half-ran, half-slid down the nylon ladder to ground. A dozen of the corvette’s crew followed, equally in a hurry but for different reasons. They worked like maniacs, all the time keeping a wary eye upon the sky.
CHAPTER II
The cliff was part of an upthrust plateau rising four hundred feet above the forest. At bottom were two caves, one wide and shallow, one narrow but deep. Before the caves stretched a beach of tiny pebbles at the edge of which a small stream swirled and bubbled.
Cylindrical duralumin containers, thirty in all, were lowered from the ship’s belly to the beach, seized and carried to the back of the deep cave, stacked so that the code numbers on their lids faced the light. That done, the twelve scrambled monkeylike up the ladder which was promptly reeled in. An officer waved a hand from the open lock, shouted a last word of encouragement.
“Give ’em hell, Sonny.”
The corvette’s tail snorted and whumped, making trees wave their tops in a mile-long lane of superheated air. That in itself added to the list of possible risks; if the leaves got scalded, withered and changed colour, a scouting aeroplane would view the phenomenon as a gigantic arrow pointing to the cave. But it was a chance that had to be taken. With swiftly increasing speed the big vessel went away, keeping low and turning in the distance to follow the valley northward.
Watching it depart, Mowry knew that it would not yet head straight for home. First the crew would take added chances for his sake by zooming in plain view over a number of cities and military strongholds. With luck this tactic might persuade the enemy to jump to the conclusion that it was engaged in photographic reconnaissance, that no surreptitious landing of personnel had been intended or performed.
The testing time would come during the long hours of daylight and already dawn was breaking to one side. Systematic aerial search in the vicinity would prove that the enemy’s suspicions had been aroused in spite of the corvette’s misleading antics. Lack of visible search would not prove the contrary because for all he knew the hunt might be up elsewhere, in the wrong place far beyond his sight and hearing.
Full light would be needed for his trek through the forest the depths of which were dark enough even at midday. While waiting for the sun to rise he sat on a boulder and gazed in the direction in which the ship had gone. He wouldn’t have that captain’s job, he decided, for a sack of diamonds. And probably the captain wouldn’t have his for two sacks.
After an hour he entered the cave, opened a container, drew from it a well-worn leather case of indisputable Sirian manufacture. There’d be no sharp eyes noting something foreign-looking about that piece of luggage; it was his own property purchased in Masham, on Diracta, many years ago.
Making an easy jump across the little stream he went into the forest and headed westward, frequently checking his direction with the aid of a pocket compass. The going proved rough but not difficult. The forest was wholly a forest and not a jungle. Trees grew large and close together, forming a canopy that shut out all but occasional glimpses of the sky. Luckily, undergrowth was sparse. One could walk with ease and at fast pace providing one took care not to fall over projecting roots. Also, as he soon realised, progress was helped quite a piece by the fact that on Jaimec his weight was down by most of twenty pounds while his luggage was raduced in the same proportion.
Two hours before sunset he reached the road, having covered twenty miles with one stop for a meal and many brief pauses to consult the compass. Behind a roadside tree he upended the case, sat on it and enjoyed fifteen minutes rest before making wary survey of the road. So far he’d heard no planes or scout-ships snooping overhead in frantic search of Terra’s one-man task force. Neither was there any abnormal activity upon the road; in fact during his wait nothing passed along it in either direction.
Refreshed by the sit, he tidied himself, brushed dirt and leaves from his shoes and pants,. reknotted his typical neck-scarf as only a Sirian could knot it. Then he examined himself in a steel mirror. His Earthmade copy of Sirian clothes would pass muster, he had no doubt of that. His purple face, pinned-back ears and Mashambi accent would be equally convincing. But his greatest protection would be the mental block in every Sirian’s mind; they’d just naturally not think of an Earthman masquerading as a Sirian because the idea was too ridiculous to contemplate.
Satisfied that he fitted his role a hundred percent, he emerged from the shelter of the trees, walked boldly across the road and from the other side made careful study of his exit from the forest. It was essential that he should be able to remember it speedily and accurately. The forest was the screen of camouflage around his bolt-hole and there was no telling when he might need to dive into it in a deuce of a hurry.
Fifty yards farther along the road stood an especially tall tree with a peculiarly wrapped growth around its trunk and a very gnarly branch formation. He fixed it firmiy in his mind and for good measure lugged a tablet-shaped slab of stone onto the grass verge and stood it upright beneath the tree.