Back Aa

Hunters Out of Space

Close

<h2>CHAPTER 3</h2> GOING to the pool, Gunnar began to wash his bleeding arms. “Yes, Old Gunnar knew you would be here, Jack Odin, for it was writ in runes of silver long ago that a man will go to the gates of death and brave Old Nidhug the dragon there to find his maid.” “And how is she, Gunnar? Where is she?” But the dwarf did not answer for a few minutes. He stared moodily into the coals, and then feeling behind him in the dark he found a bright shirt and struggled into it. “I was getting ready to take a bath when the thing came at me,” he explained simply. “Gunnar! Where is Maya?” Gunnar’s big hand squeezed Odin’s shoulder. “Steady, lad. I wish I knew. I wish I knew. But you are here now, and we will go hunting together. For you are my friend and Maya is my friend. And I swore by my sword, the Blood-Drinker, to her father I swore it. And to Jul. That I would look after her. But I failed. And is my word no stronger than a puff of wind? I have sworn a new oath. I will find her. Even though we go farther than the graveyard of stars—or beyond the gates of hell, maybe—I will find her.” There was a sob in the squat man’s throat and Jack Odin could see by the light of the flickering coals that Gunnar had aged. His face was more seamed. The knots of muscle at each jaw were larger. His hair was gray-streaked and thinner. But those huge shoulders were huger still, and the big gnarled hands kept closing and unclosing as though they were grasping at a throat. “We will go together, then,” Odin said. “But tell me—” “Then swear it by my blade.” And Gunnar took the long sword and harness up from the sand where he had left it. “My people do not swear by the sword.” Gunnar cursed. “The tongues of your people are like two-edged knives. I have had enough of them. But you are not like them, Odin. I said before that you were a throwback to the men of old-time, when they went berserker together, or followed the whale’s path in their dragon-headed ships. Here, swear by the sword, my sword.” <hr class="tb" /> And Jack Odin reached forward and touched the sword and swore that he would go with Gunnar even to the edge of the stars— “Now,” Odin pleaded. “Tell me what happened down there.” “It is a long story. And not a pretty one, either. Have you anything to eat?” Odin produced some bread and jerked beef. As they sat there, with the coals winking red eyes at them, Gunnar told his tale between wolfish bites. “Grim Hagen planned well.” (So Gunnar began). “He planned well, and even yet I hope to kill him. “That was an evil day when you and Maya decided to go back to outer-earth. An evil day. Some of Grim Hagen’s men snared Maya with their thons. There was much fighting. We killed many but many got away. “I should have known from the black scowl which Grim Hagen had worn those many months that he would not be stopped by one defeat. You will remember, Odin, how I told you of the little flying machines that we strapped on our backs in the old days and went sailing through the air. They were outlawed. But during the time that Grim Hagen held the tower he must have found the plans for the flying machine, or maybe even one of the machines. For when his men attacked us, each one had such a machine. And each man carried dozens of little glass eggs. When they threw them they exploded and dissolved nearly everything for twenty foot around. “Oh, we fought. We killed many. But it is hard to fight the hawk. One by one they blew up our ships. Then, carrying Maya and a few other prisoners with them, they flew out to sea like a flight of evil birds—no, not birds, for not even the hawk is evil. What was the word that you used for the leather-winged, toothy things that live in the forest?” “Dactyls,” Jack Odin prompted. “Yes, that’s it,” Gunnar said as he stared into the fire. “Dactyls. I like that word. It has an evil, bloody ring to it.” He stopped talking to take a huge bite of stale bread that nearly choked him. Then he continued his story. “Meanwhile, in the city of the Scientists, the same kind of fighting had been going on. We learned later that when Grim Hagen’s men winged their way in from the sea, his army had already retaken the Tower. Ato and his soldiers were scattered. Half of them were dead. So, after scattering their explosive eggs across the city, and killing the very old and the very young, Grim Hagen and his men took refuge in the Tower and prepared to withstand our siege. They had learned much from their first defeat, and this time they held it well. “As soon as we could patch up our ships, we came a-following and joined forces with Ato’s soldiers. We assaulted the Tower day after day. Until the ground and the walks around it were black with our dried blood. But they held out. Not once did they try a counter-attack. We should have guessed at what Grim Hagen was planing. But we didn’t until one of the prisoners escaped. His name was Zol, and he was a friend of Maya’s father. Poor fellow, he is dead now, but if we of Opal went in for monuments we would build one a mile high for Zol. He told us that Grim Hagen was readying the Old Ship for flight into space. Also, he planned to leave the sea gates open. “Zol saved us. Or saved some of us and a part of Opal. Ato began training divers against the day when the tunnel would be flooded. We moved as many people as we could onto the ledges high up on the walls of Opal. We got our great pumps ready to cope with the flooding. “Also, Ato and I renewed our assault upon the Tower. But they bested us. They had learned too many of the old secrets. Most of the young men of the Neeblings died there against the walls. That is how we keep our promises, Nors-King. “But Old Gunnar had a trick or two left. Remember the tale that I read to you in the throne-room of Baldar. The first of the Brons to enter the world of Opal were soldiers sent from some blasted planet in outer space to find a new home. They could fly their ship, but they knew nothing of the science and the magic that had gone into it. We of the Neeblings learned that. And we Neeblings were their historians for a thousand years. Also, it was we who pieced together what little is known of their trip through space. And this is why: “We of Opal have always kept up with the world above us. About thirty years ago there were some popular stories in your land about Tani of Ekkis* whose people came through the void in a spaceship. They traveled slow, and this is how they made the trip. They had discovered something which kept most of the crew under suspended animation for years upon years. That tale was not far from right. For the Brons too had a capsule, red like a ruby, which made them sleep for a score of years. There was an antidote, a yellow liquid like curdled flames. Three drops into the veins and the sleeper would awake. That is how they made the trip. Only a pilot, a co-pilot, a navigator, and a chief engineer were ever awake at one time. Their log-books were brief. But we of the Neeblings have them. <div class="footnote">*Amazing Stories, c. 1929. </div> <hr class="tb" /> “So,” (Gunnar continued, drawing a huge forearm across his moist blue eyes) “I persuaded Zol to go back to the Tower. I might as well have run him through, but he was our best and last hope. Wolden gave him a tiny cube, no larger than a ring-case. In it was a crystal with a number of silver wires woven into it, but it was a good transmitter. Better than yours, Jack Odin. For a week we heard from him daily. “I say it was a week. We were working the clock around and our little sun was misbehaving again. It was a feverish week, not measured by day and night, for the sun would wink on and off as though it were getting ready to give up. “For a week we heard from Zol. He gave the ruby capsule to Maya. She sleeps and will continue to sleep for twenty years unless the antidote which looks like curdled yellow flame is given to her. I have it. Grim Hagen may kill her or cast her adrift in space, but he cannot awaken her. That hound of hell can taunt her no more. She sleeps, until Gunnar stands by her side. “Then Zol sent us his last message. Maya was sleeping. He was barricaded in one of the rooms of the Tower, and Grim Hagen and his men were battering down the door. From what we heard in the next few minutes, I suppose that the door gave way and Zol died. Then Grim Hagen’s voice came to us, screaming in rage. He had all that he wanted. Even though our princess slept, he would take her into space with him. And she would awaken some day with the smoke of plundered worlds in her nostrils. Yes, she would awaken—to be his slave, even as he had promised us that night in Maya’s home when we fought. And I wish I had killed the beast then. But Zol was dead and there was no sense in listening to this man’s ravings, so we turned off our radio. And that is the last we ever heard from Grim Hagen. “It was the next day when he opened the sea-gates and trundled the ship out upon the floor of the sea. We had done all that we could to be prepared. But it was not enough. “The water came pouring in upon Opal. Half of the people died. Many had taken refuge in ships, and I doubt if a single ship survived that night. Yes, just as the water came flooding in, our little sun went out. We fought. The waters flooded both Valla and the Scientists’ City. Here it rose nearly to the top of the Tower. There were only a few forests and meadows in the land that were not flooded. These were high up against the walls. As for the creatures of the deep, the reptiles and amphibians, most of them were dead. Many crawled into the ancient caves and fled upward. Most of them died. “That is nearly all. We know now that Grim Hagen and his ship, with all his prisoners and loot, took off from the bed of the sea with a flourish which was just like Grim Hagen. “Meanwhile, Ato and his crews got the gates closed and started the pumps. Only a few men of that crew are alive today, for the tunnel was radio-active at that time. It was weeks before the pumps could force the water back into the Gulf. Most of our plants were lost. My men and I have been foraging in the world above for these—and have helped ourselves to your cattle when we could. “The waters are back to their old level, but they left a soggy, ruined world behind them. There is a deal of work to be done before it will be like the world that you knew. And our sun is of so little use that it can scarcely dry out the sloughs. “Meanwhile, Wolden and his men are working on another ship. Even a larger ship than the one which Grim Hagen stole. They work day and night. Grim Hagen took his choice of our treasures. He stole our princess, and he killed millions. We are going after him, even if he drives to the edge of space. And I am going because of a promise I made long ago, and because of the love that I have for Maya. And because of you, Jack Odin. The sword is forged now. It is white-hot upon the anvil. The sparks leap out like stars as the hammer of the smith clangs down. And I will follow Grim Hagen as far as a man can go—even a league beyond the outer shell of space—or a day’s journey beyond the grave.” (So Gunnar’s tale was ended. And the two sat there in silence, watching the coals wink out, and feeling the all-devouring dark coming back into the cavern.) “Then I will go with you,” Jack Odin told Gunnar. “To fight at your right side until we find my princess—” “And until Grim Hagen is dead,” Gunnar added. “For he is a noisome leaven that will pollute all of space that he touches.” The last coal went back to ashes. Odin turned on his light, and Gunnar blinked in pain at the sudden glare. Then they went onward and downward, past columns of limestone that were already old when the world was young. Table of Contents <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

1 of 2

2 of 2