GODS OF SPACE-10
1151 Words
ALONE, ATWOOD FACED the Ruler and the prostrate throng. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Ah-li standing stiffly erect, with arms outstretched as though in benediction. And as the Selah now was intoning some ritual, Atwood drew himself up and lifted his arms.
But tensely, alertly he was watching. Where was Bohr? The big Marlan seemed to have vanished. A dozen of Bohr’s men were in a little drunken group, their boistering voices suppressed now as they stood at the edge of the platform behind the Selah’s cradle. The barrage was close behind them. And as Atwood’s apprehensive gaze stared at the purple radiance, dimly behind it he could see that the genes were crowding. Attracted by the scent of the human crowd here, they had gathered outside the barrage. Thousands of them—ghastly, tumbling, tentacled balls of saffron, milling one upon the other as they pressed forward. Thousands? There could have been millions; a saffron sea of them out there.
“The Man-God will speak to us now.” It was Ah-li’s voice, prompting him.
Atwood gathered his wits. He began to talk. What matter the words. He hardly knew what he was saying, for abruptly behind the Ruler-Selah, Bohr had appeared. Bohr with a knife in his hand. And in that same instant, with a ponderous leap he plunged the knife into the Selah’s bloated back!
There was a second of ghastly startled silence. Then chaos. The prostrate Marlans gasped; then leaped to their feet, shouting, milling with terror and confusion. Bohr’s men from behind the platform leaped upon it. All of them with knives, plunging the blades into the Ruler’s puffed, toadlike body; and then standing, shouting at the crowd.
It was a startled instant while Atwood stood numbed. Bohr again had vanished; and then suddenly he appeared on the platform with Ah-li and was standing beside her, with his heavy arm around her as she sagged against him in terror. He, too, was shouting at the crowd now; and then he shouted in English:
“I am the Man-God! Your Man-God and the new Ruler.”
All in a few seconds, and then Atwood recovered his wits. Like an awkward plunging bird he leaped from one platform to the other, landing full upon Ah-li and the shouting Bohr. It took Bohr by surprise. Atwood’s body struck him full so that he rocked, staggered a little, his grip releasing the girl as wildly he flailed his arms to ward off this huge attacking thing clinging to him. The impact against Bohr’s solidity all but knocked the breath from Atwood. He found himself hanging with feet off the ground as he clung. And desperately he fought for the knife. Bohr’s fingers in his confusion must have gripped it loosely; and abruptly Atwood had it, stabbed it into Bohr’s face.
Gruesome thrust. It went slowly into the tough, heavy flesh as with all his strength Atwood shoved it to the hilt. Bohr screamed. His twitching arms pushed Atwood a dozen feet away. With the knife still in his face and horrible ooze bubbling around it, he staggered and fell heavily from the platform. Then he was up on his feet, staggering, half blinded doubtless—staggering toward the barrage. And his scream rang out, first in the Marlan language and then in English:
“Not to be the Man-God—”
On the platform Atwood gripped the shaking, terrified girl. “We’ve got to get away from here.”
“Why—why this is terrible.”
“You listen to me! Don’t talk! If you don’t run with me, then I’m going to carry you.” He shook her. “We’re going, you understand?”
“Not to be the Man-God—” Bohr’s scream still rang over the turmoil. He had staggered, found himself at one of the barrage-braziers. And suddenly in a frenzy he overturned the brazier. Its light went out. A slit of darkness leaped into the barrage.
“Not to be the Man-God—” A frenzy of disappointment, disillusionment was in Bohr’s wild voice. All his plans now gone awry as he felt himself dying from the knifeblade in his head.
A slit of darkness in the barrage.... And now Bohr had staggered and overturned another brazier. It was his last act. He staggered and fell as through the widened dark slit, the hideous torrent of screaming, chattering saffron monsters rolled through. In a second Bohr was engulfed. The milling Marlans, shouting in wild terror now, were trying to run. Ponderous, sluggish steps.... The horrible yellow torrent engulfed them.
“Ah-li! Ah-li dear—” Atwood gasped. The girl, fascinated with horror had been resisting him. “We’ve got to try to get away.”
“Yes. Oh, yes—I see it.”
She guided him. Hand in hand they leaped—a great sailing leap that carried them across the square into a now almost deserted section of the village. And then another—over two or three of the mound-dwellings. Another, and they went through the opposite side of the barrage.
- - - -
* * * *
OPEN COUNTRY. THE MONSTERS were all rushing toward the barrage-break. With a leap Atwood and Ah-li went over a milling, tumbling group of a hundred of them. It was a wild, scrambling, leaping run.... The dark little spaceship lying flat on its hull-fins at the edge of the forest was a blessed haven to the panting, bruised Atwood.
“Inside! Quick now—” he gasped.
Genes were here, rolling forward; monstrous bobs of saffron as Atwood shoved the girl into the porte and slid its door. Through the heavy bulls-eye pane the gathering monsters were a turgid yellow blur.... Then the little ship was rising, with its rocket streams flaring out like a comet tail behind it. Atwood and the girl—escaping Gods, from a world which had become a purgatory.
- - - -
* * * *
IN THE CONTROL TURRET they sat, staring ahead at the great stars that glittered in the black firmament. The Earth was a tiny glowing dot.
“There it is,” Atwood said. “Your world, and mine. We’ve got the Xarite, Ah-li. You wanted to do good on that little planetoid. There’ll be plenty of chance, on Earth.”
“And that is Earth?” she murmured. “So small.”
“It’s very big,” he said smilingly. “You’ll see. If only my father and Dr. Johns were alive now, to greet us as we come with the Xarite. They worked so hard for this.”
“Dr. Johns?” She was staring at him, startled. And then suddenly on her face and in her eyes there was the light of memory. “Dr. Johns? Why—why—”
“Yes?” he prompted. “Try and think!”
“Dr. Johns? Why—Gloria—yes, yes there was a Gloria! Why—that is my other name! His daughter—Gloria Johns—why, of course!”
Gloria Johns.... “Then your father and mine—they were friends,” Atwood murmured.
The familiar scenes of Earth would bring everything back to her. And Ah-li, Goddess of the planet, would be gone. There would just be Gloria Johns.
They sat gazing at the immensity of Space—at the tiny dot of light which was their great world waiting for them.
- Writer
