IT WAS IN THE READING room of the Neilson-Aldebar space liner, Ekova, that two young people came unexpectedly upon a third person who sat alone, absently skimming through a copy of the Interplanetarian. When the girl caught sight of him she uttered a little acclamation of surprise. “Hekki-you!” she cried.
The one addressed looked up. A smile of greeting came over his swarthy, aristocratic features. “Hello, Jan. It is I—none other,” he said. “Aren’t you glad to see me?” Here he shot a quick glance at the girl’s companion.
“Why certainly I am, Hekki,” she replied a trifle nervously. “But how can it be? A week ago you left for the deepest, most mysterious part of the Taraal desert on Mars, to collect objects of ancient art, and now you are here. Where have you kept yourself during the voyage?”
The other smiled again—this time a cryptic, secretive smile. “Business,” he said mysteriously. “It called me to Earth at the last moment, and since we left the docks at Taboor, it has kept me occupied in my stateroom. This is but the third time I have ventured out of it. Alka brought me my meals.” Hekki arched his finely penciled eyebrows slightly as he looked up at the lady’s companion. “And you too have had business, Janice,” he added. “A new boy friend?” There was a hint of something unpleasant in his tone, but the girl ignored it.
She nodded her golden head. “We met on the night of the departure from Mars, and since then, we’ve had a happy week together. Austin,” she said, turning to the youth, “I want you to know Hekalu Selba of Taboor. Hekki, this is Austin Shelby, who hails from Chicago. You ought to get along well together, because you are both so interested in mechanics,” she added. The men shook hands. For the past few moments Shelby had been trying to analyze from the scanty data at hand the character of Hekki. He saw the tapering, effeminate hands—one twiddled nervously a long Martian cigarette—the dark straight hair and fine features; the mouth, that could curl so insolently; the faultless, white silk clothing.
Shelby decided that he did not like Hekki. The reason at first seemed obvious, but presently the young Earthman realized that his feeling towards this child of the Red Planet was stronger than mere dislike. What was the explanation? Was it because Hekki was a friend of Janice Darell? Since he had met her aboard the Ekova on this glorious return to Earth, after having spent a whole Martian year at an engineering school at Taboor, Shelby had learned to know love. Was he jealous of this noble of another world? A little, perhaps. But this did not account for the vague, sinister aura he sensed about Hekalu Selba.
Something in Shelby’s brain was trying to surge its way to the surface of his consciousness; he struggled with it, and it came out clear. Only thirty-six hours before, during the period designated for sleep, he had wandered into a seldom frequented passageway, high up in the hull of the Ekova. Here there were portholes through which he could see the curving metal expanse of the ship’s huge form, gleaming dimly under the stars of space. It had looked like the back of a great silver whale.
For a minute or two he had stared absently through the little circular window, and then, hearing footsteps down the corridor, he had turned to see two figures some hundred feet distant moving away from him. They had obviously entered from a side passage and had probably not seen him. One had been this very Hekalu Selba; Austin was sure of it. Beside him had moved a shadow. The Earthman had not seen it clearly, for the illuminating globes burning here during the sleep period were dim and far between.
He had but a vague fleeting impression of a huge knotty form, bent and grotesque. Its arms were so long that its big hands almost dragged on the floor. Its head was very large and bulbous. The pair had seemed to carry something heavy between them, but Austin had not seen what it was. In a moment the Martian had opened a door in the side of the passage and the two had vanished into it.
When Austin had returned to his stateroom, he was not quite sure he had really seen the monstrous horror. Surely nothing like it was known to exist within the orbit of Jupiter! Shelby had thought of reporting the incident to the commander of the vessel, but he had dismissed the idea as too pointless. Now, however, the memory of that vague black form was haunting him. He knew that it was the key, in part at least, to his feeling toward Hekalu Selba.
The Martian had cast his magazine aside. He was patting the soft cushions of the divan on which he was lounging. “Sit here, my friends,” he said in his smooth, precise English. “We shall talk, and then perhaps we shall have a little refreshment.” The two complied.
“It will be only for a moment,” said the girl. “The ship lands in an hour, and I haven’t gathered my things together yet.”
Shelby was intensely interested in this queer individual, about whose personality there lingered a strangely indefinable web of mystery—of evil, almost.
“So you too have a passion for mechanics,” he said. “Somewhere I am sure I have heard of you before. Kelang Aggar, an instructor of mine at Taboor, spoke occasionally of a young Martian student—”
“Kelang Aggar is my friend,” Hekki broke in. “He assisted me with several experiments. But they were nothing—a new alloy, very hard, and having a high point of fusion. The heads of the Space Ship Construction Company said it was ideal for rocket nozzles, but they paid me a mere pittance for the invention. This, and a few even lesser ones are my sole accomplishments in the line of mechanics.” Hekalu Selba laughed lightly.
“Let us talk of other things, my friends,” he continued. “Let us allow our minds to ramble. See those two beautiful potted palms over there—children of the deserts of Earth, and beside them the slender graceful stem of the purple Kelan, dug from the marshes along the Selgur waterway of my own planet. I have seen them both in their native habitat, waving their fronds as though in cadence with some great silent symphony of the universe. See that tapestry over yonder, with the beast woven into it?”
Here Janice Darell pointed up toward the flattened glass dome that roofed the room. “There is old Mother Earth looking down at us, and the sun is peeping around her rim,” she said. “See how the light of Sol sifts through the terrestrial atmosphere. There is a streak of red, of gold, of opal, and beyond are the stars and the blackness of space.”
“The contrast of the forces of darkness with those of light,” Shelby put in softly.
Hekki was smiling absently. “There are many contrasts,” he mused. “The contrast of life and death, of power and weakness, of nightmare and reality.”
Words popped into Austin Shelby’s head, and, carelessly, he uttered them without thinking: “You often walk with your nightmares, don’t you, Hekalu?”
A hard light came into the Martian’s eyes as he stared straight at the Earthman. “Perhaps,” he said, “and you, Mr. Shelby, often walk in your sleep!” But apparently the incident was immediately forgotten.
Austin wondered how much the girl knew about the luxurious Hekalu. A quick glance of intelligence passed between them.
“I’ll have to pack now,” Janice said. “Won’t you boys walk along with me a little ways?” She took Austin’s arm as they arose. Hekki fell in beside them. At the entrance to the corridor which led to the girl’s stateroom they paused.
“My business will occupy me tonight and tomorrow,” said Hekalu, “so I shall bid you goodbye until, let us say, the following evening, Jan, but if you like I shall have Alka take you home.”
“Mr. Shelby has asked permission to perform that little service, you industrious old business man,” she replied mischievously. And again that dark shadow flickered momentarily on the Martian’s features.
“But you will let me see you the day after tomorrow?” he asked. “I have found a little paradise out at Oak Park patterned after the fairy palaces of my own planet, and besides, I have a new jewel to show you.”
“Fie on your jewels, Hekki,” she smiled, adopting the stiff trite speech the Martians often fell into. “But anyway, perhaps I shall favor you with my incomparable company. The time you mention is still a ways away. Sidi yadi, my friend. Remember I shall be expecting a view-phone call from you soon.” Then turning to Shelby: “I’ll meet you in the lounge right after the boat lands. Don’t fail me!”
“You needn’t worry about that, Jan,” he assured her.
In a moment she was hurrying up the corridor in the pink glow of the lights. As Austin gazed after her, he could not help but think how wonderful was this fluffy little wisp of blonde beauty. Was she for him? Over her he felt there lurked a dark shadow, but this only strengthened the spell she had cast over him, for it gave to him the pleasure which virile males experience when they know that their loved one requires protection.
Hekki cleared his throat to attract the attention of his companion. When Shelby turned toward him he was fumbling in one of the voluminous sleeve pockets of his blouse. Presently he drew forth a very thin rectangle of a substance resembling ivory, and handed it to the Earthman. Shelby glanced at it. It was one of the name cards commonly used by Martian men. It bore the legend in the interplanetary symbols:
Hekalu Selba, Akar
414 Teldasa
Taboor, P. 4.
Beneath in small letters appeared Hekki’s Chicago address.
“I shall want to see you again soon, my friend,” said the Martian cordially. “There are many things at my establishment which I would like to show you—much that we can talk about.”
Austin Shelby accepted the card and handed Hekki his own. Here was an opportunity to get some first hand information on the mysterious man of Mars and his more mysterious, perhaps sinister doings. The idea that he might be placing himself in a dangerous position, Shelby gave scarcely a moment’s thought, for he had in him the spirit of the adventurer.
“Thank you, Akar Hekalu. I shall get in touch with you. And in the meanwhile you can reach me at my address through the view-phone at almost any time for I shall be working on a new mechanism there. Sidi yadi.“
“Sidi yadi, my friend.”
The two men parted.
Fifteen minutes later a rustling whisper was audible throughout the Ekova, above the steady purr of the forward-pointing decelerating rockets. It became a deep-toned soughing which rapidly increased in volume to a loud roar, and then to a screeching hiss. The ship swayed and rocked a little. It was tearing its way into the terrestrial atmosphere.
In the conning tower forward, the pilot and his assistant were working calmly and cooly over the bewildering array of controlling mechanisms. Getting those thousands of tons of metal safely lowered into a space ship’s cradle on the landing stage, was a difficult task, but the experience and efficiency of the two men was quite competent to cope with it.
Far below was a vast sea of winking lights—Chicago, its colossal skyscrapers looming up severe and white and beautiful in the glow.
The pilot’s nimble fingers turned a small horizontal wheel at his side. The liner dipped and dropped slowly earthward toward an area of white light. A mass of cloud poured over the huge hull for an instant and then passed by. The outer shell of the great silvery whale which had been chilled to a degree from absolute zero, by the cold of space had been warmed but slightly by the rapid passage through the atmosphere and now gleamed with jewel-like hoar frost.
Down, down it floated until it was only three hundred feet above the landing stage. A red signal light gleamed suddenly on a panel within the control room, and the wizard of that eerie chamber shifted a tiny lever. The space ship halted and hung motionless supported by its repulsion plates. On the ground in the glare of floodlights white-clad men hurried about. Four mighty arms of metal groped upward from a mass of heavy framework. They clutched the craft with a grating noise, and then, with the slow deliberation of a sleepy giant, they drew it gently down into its cradle.
Within the Ekova all was abustle. Its doors, built solidly like the breeches of big cannons, swung open, permitting the cool night air to enter the ship, which for seven days had been a world sufficient unto itself. Gangplanks were let down, and the passengers, jesting gaily with one another began their leisurely descent to the ground. Customs officials worked feverishly. A webby derrick arm pointing out from an opening in the side of the liner, was unloading mail and costly material and equipment sent to Earth from the Red Planet.
The routine processes of debarkation over, Shelby and Janice Darell entered the covered causeway which led to the great terminal building of the Space Travel Company.
The two had caught but a fleeting glimpse of Hekki. He was talking earnestly to a white-clad official, and had not seen them; nor had they tried to attract his attention. Conspicuous among the Martian’s numerous possessions was a large basket of metal wickerwork, such as were commonly used to convey dogs and similiar pets from place to place. The sight of that basket had aroused again in Shelby’s mind that peculiar sense of the presence of something sinister. Was the monster he had seen in Hekalu Selba’s company hidden within that case of woven wire?
Within the causeway was a moving walk which carried Shelby and his companion to the depot. Here the intermittent whirring of pneumatic tube-cars operating in a vast network throughout the city was audible. The young Earthian pair, and the two attendants bearing their light luggage entered an elevator, which carried them swiftly to the landing platform for atmospheric craft on the roof of the building.
Shelby presented his identification tag and gave the number of his plane to the official in charge. The man led the way to a hangar at the side of the platform. Shelby had sent an order by radio to the Sutherland Aircraft Company a few hours before, and, complying with his request, a bright new flier had been delivered and housed here, awaiting his arrival.
The official closed a switch on the wall of the building, and the hangar door rolled open. While the two Earthians were entering the craft the attendants quickly placed the luggage into the load compartment.
Shelby fumbled with the destination mechanism and pressed the starting lever. The propellers, whirled at high speed by the soundless atomic motor, thrummed softly. In a moment, the plane, unguided by human hands, hoisted itself almost vertically into the night and was off. Unerringly it would carry its occupants to their destination.
A Strange Story
SHELBY LOOKED DOWN AT HIS companion. For a time she had been strangely quiet. Could it be that there was just a hint of a troubled look on her beautiful face? The young engineer felt himself drawn to her more than ever. He wanted to know more about his new Martian acquaintance, but he disliked to ask a direct question concerning him, for he feared vaguely that it might give her offense.
“Jan,” he said, “you look worried. Is anything wrong?”
She shook her head, slowly, absently, without looking at him. “No, I was just thinking.” She paused, and then in the same absent manner she continued: “Only Hekalu Selba is back, and I thought I was rid of him.”