His voice jangled with broken syllables in my receiver.
"Do for you now, Haljan--"
It was an eery combat. We swayed, shoving, kicking, wrestling. His hold around my middle shut off the Erentz circulation; the warning buzz rang in my ears to mingle with the rasp of his curses. I flung him off, and my tiny Erentz motors recovered. He staggered away, but in a great leap came at me again.
I was taller, heavier and far stronger than Coniston. But I found him crafty, and where I was awkward in handling my lightness, he seemed more skilfully agile.
I became aware that we were on the twenty-foot square grid of the observatory platform. It had a low metal railing. We surged against it. I caught a dizzying glimpse of the abyss. Then it receded as we bounced the other way. And then we fell to the grid. His helmet bashed against mine, striking as though b.u.t.ting with the side of his head to puncture my visor-panel. His gloved fingers were trying to rip at the fabric around my throat.
As we regained our feet, I flung him off, and bounded, like a diver, head-first into him. He went backward, but skilfully kept his feet, gripped me again and shoved me.
I was tottering at the head of the staircase--falling. But I clutched at him.
We fell some twenty or thirty feet to the next lower spider landing.
The impact must have dazed us both. I recall my vague idea that we had fallen down the cliff--my Erentz motors smashed--my air shut off. Then the air came again. The roaring in my ears was stilled; my head cleared, and I found that we were on the landing--fighting.
He presently broke away from me, bounded to the summit, with me after him. In the close confines of the suit I was bathed in sweat, and gasping. I had had no thought to increase the oxygen content of my air. But I sorely needed more oxygen for my laboring, pounding heart and my panting breath. I fumbled for the oxygen control-lever. I could not find it; or it would not operate.
I realized I was fighting sluggishly, almost aimlessly. But so was Coniston!
It seemed dreamlike. A phantasmagoria of blows and staggering steps. A nightmare with only the horrible vision of this goggled helmet always before my eyes.
It seemed that we were rolling on the ground, back on the summit. The unshadowed Earthlight was clear and bright. The abyss was beside me.
Coniston, rolling, was now on top, now under me, trying to shove me over the brink. It was all like a dream--as though I were asleep, dreaming that I did not have enough air.
I strove to keep my senses. He was struggling to roll me over the brink. Ah, that would not do! But I was so tired. One cannot fight without oxygen!
I suddenly knew that I had shaken him off and gained my feet. He rose up, swaying. He was as tired, confused, half-asphyxiated as I.
The brink of the abyss was behind us. I lunged, desperately shoving, avoiding his clutch.
He went over, and fell soundlessly, his body whirling end over end down into the shadows, far down.
I drew back. My senses faded as I sank panting to the rocks. But with inactivity, my thumping heart quieted. My respirations slowed. The Erentz circulation gained on my poisoned air. It purified.
That blessed oxygen! My head cleared again. Strength came to me. I felt better.
Coniston had fallen to his death. I was victor. I went to the brink, cautiously, for I was still dizzy. I could see, far down there on the crater-floor, a little patch of Earthlight in which a mashed human figure was lying.
I staggered back again. A moment or two must have pa.s.sed while I stood there on the summit, with my senses clearing and my strength renewed as the blood-stream cleared in my veins.
I was victor. Coniston was dead. I saw now, down on the lower staircase below the camp-ledge, another goggled figure lying huddled.
That was Wilks, no doubt. Coniston had doubtless caught him there, surprised him, killed him.
My attention, as I stood gazing, went down to the camp-buildings.
Another figure was outside! It bounded along the ledge, reached the foot of the ascending staircase at the top of which I was standing.
With agile leaps, it came mounting at me!
Another brigand! Miko? No, it was not large enough to be Miko, not nearly large enough. I was still confused. I thought of Hahn. But that was absurd. Hahn was in the wreck of the _Planetara_. One of the stewards then....
The figure came up the staircase recklessly, to a.s.sail me. I took a step backward, bracing myself to receive this new antagonist.
And then I saw Miko! Unquestionably he: for there was no mistaking his giant figure. He was down on the camp-ledge, running toward the foot of the staircase, coming up to help this other man in advance of him.
I thought of my revolver. I turned to try and find it. I was aware that the first of my a.s.sailants was at the stairhead. I could not locate at once where the revolver had fallen. I would be caught, leaped upon from behind. Should I run?
I swung back to see what the oncoming brigand was doing. He had reached the summit. His arms went up, legs bent under him. With a sailing leap he launched for me. I could have bounded way, but with a last look to locate the revolver, I braced myself for the shock.
The figure hit me. It was small and light in my clutching arms. I recall I saw that Miko was half-way up the staircase. I gripped my a.s.sailant. The audiphone contact brought a voice.
"Gregg! Is it you?"
It was Anita clutching at me!
CHAPTER XXVI
_At Bay_
"Gregg, you"re safe!"
She had heard the camp corridors resounding with the shouts that Wilks and Haljan were fighting. She had come upon a suit and helmet by the manual emergency lock, had run out through the lock, confused, with her only idea to stop Wilks and me from fighting. Then she had seen one of us killed. Impulsive, barely knowing what she was doing, she mounted the stairs, frantic to find if I were alive.
"Anita!"
Miko was coming! She had not seen him: for she had no thought of brigands--only the belief that either Wilks or I had been killed.
But now, as for an instant we stood together on the rocks near the observation platform, I could see the towering figure of Miko nearing the top of the stairs.
"Anita, that"s Miko! We must run."
Then I saw my bullet projector. It lay in a bowl-like depression quite near us. I jumped for it. And as I tore loose from Anita, she leaped down after me. It was a broken bowl in the rocks, some six feet deep.
It was open on the side facing the staircase--a narrow, ravinelike gully, full of gray, broken, tumbled rock-ma.s.ses. The little gully was littered with crags and boulders. But I could see out through it.
Miko had come to the head of the staircase. He stopped there, his great figure etched sharply by the Earthlight. I think he must have known that Coniston was the one who had fallen over the cliff, as my helmet and Coniston"s were different enough for him to recognize which was which. He did not know who I was, but he did know me for an enemy.
He stood now at the summit, peering to see where we had gone. He was no more than fifty feet from us.
"Anita, lie down."
I pulled her down on the rocks. I took aim with the bullet projector.