needed no second bidding. He leaped forward with astounding energy, leading the way across the barren red plain in the direction of the main giant cleft in the Seven Peak range. Weary, unutterably leaden, the two jogged after him. Then, suddenly, Claire, exhausted beyond measure, could stand it no longer. She sank weakly to the ground. “It’s no good; I can’t make it!” she panted, her face pale and strained in the Europa light.
Cardew braced himself against the screaming wind and looked down at her in perplexity. Certainly he could not carry her; his own weight was severe enough. He glanced anxiously to the rear and beheld visible streams of redness crawling through the night—searing overflows from the erupting Spot. Once through the cleft there would be safety, but here— To wait until dawn meant certain death.
“Only another few miles, Claire!” he implored desperately. “We’ve got to make it! It’s the difference between life and death—”
She did not answer—only lay flat and relaxed.
Then Jo descended from the gloom. “No dice?” he questioned anxiously. “Claire lie down?”
“It’s the damned gravity,” Cardew growled. “We’re not used to it.”
Jo did not respond. Without a moment’s hesitation he bent down and hauled the girl, spacesuit and all, onto his broad left shoulder; then, before Cardew could grasp the situation, he was treated likewise on the other shoulder. The next thing he knew he was flying through the air with dizzying speed, heart and lungs strained to the uttermost by the upward pulls against the gravity.
“Trifles mere!” Jo tossed out enthusiastically, vaulting mightily with legs and tail. “I have clever brain and big legs. Strength in large size. Get you safe, or else—”
Cardew couldn’t reply; he was too strained for that. But the apparent marvel of Jo’s activity soon vanished from his mind. The odd creature, gifted by Nature with a complex brain in which there ran a decided streak of generosity, was deliberately risking his own life to save two people of another world—unless it was for love of the smelling salts. The extraordinary nature of his giant strength became more and more evident as time passed. He seemed to regard the weight on his shoulders with no more concern than a man would trouble over a couple of canaries.
And he kept it up, mixing American slang with observations of considerable scientific significance ever and again—until at last the mountain cleft was reached and all possible danger from the overflowing Red Spot was far behind.
Ahead, in the light of the moons, lay the amazing Turquoise Ocean, greenish blue in the pale light—enormous in extent, pure ammonia; its heavy, turgid waves thundering ear-splittingly on a beach that was red rock, backed to the rear with crawling cliffs of white, frozen oxygen.
Here Jo stopped and dropped his burdens rather violently on the shore. Like a gray streak, he headed toward the cliffs and began tearing at their frozen hardness, until, at last, he wrested free a jagged, splintering square.
By the time Cardew and the girl had sat up, he was eating the stuff hungrily. When at last he finished, he came forward rather sheepishly.
“The eats,” he explained.
Cardew nodded as he and Claire allowed tabloids to drop into their own mouths. “Not surprised, old man. Guess I’d never get used to your diet any more than you’d get used to mine. Incidentally, how much further shall we have to go after staying the night?”
“No further. Spaceship right here.”
“Here!” Cardew looked round in puzzlement. He only saw the bleak desolation of that ammoniated shore. “Think again, Jo!” he said. “I reckon we’ve another hundred and fifty miles to cover at least.”
“Get wise to yourself!” Jo suggested calmly. Then he motioned, with his thick arm, toward the cliffs.
Fatigued though they were, the two got to their feet and followed him, stopping finally before the argent masses. Jo pointed to the red ground and grinned gleefully.
Cardew started and the girl gave a little cry as they beheld a mighty circle of metal, apparently similar to itanium, sunken into the redness—a colossal manhole cover.
“We live below,” Jo explained calmly. “Rarely come up except for special reason. Two reasons this time. We have many instruments. They showed us spaceship fall and two people leaving prison settlement. I was told to get the lot—you and spaceship.”
Cardew felt something clutch at his heart. “You—you damned traitorous little horror!” he burst out. “You mean you’ve kept up with us all this time so you could turn us into your rotten underworld? Why, you—”
“Keep on shirt!” Jo interrupted quickly. “No captives. I could easily lose you. Our leader wants you, sure—but I don’t. Prefer to help. Very clever and generous; that’s me.”
“You mean you’ll let us go?” Claire asked anxiously.
“You betcha!”
“But how can we—without a spaceship?” Cardew yelped. “You say you were told to capture it—”
“I did; it’s down below—but only in the first gallery. I can get it. Now you know how came I on the surface to meet you. Obeying orders.”
“That’s clear enough.” Cardew nodded tensely. “But about the ship. You say it’s below. Did you drive it here?”’
“I can do anything. I carried it.”
“Carried it?” Cardew’s voice was faint with amazement.
“Sure. Damned easy! I’ll show you.”
The two stood aside and watched, in bewilderment, as he locked his hand in the manhole’s ring and pulled with all his power. By degrees the great valve rose upward under his enormous strength until it was vertical. Then he jumped down into a cavernous pit.
For nearly five minutes the two waited; then they both gasped in surprise as the familiar, blunted nose of a small private space flier began to appear. Little by little the whole ship began to emerge, thrust up the long pit incline by Jo’s tremendous muscles. When at last it was on the flat ground he looked at them anxiously.
“Down below it was safe from pressure for much longer time than up,” he explained. “Better go quick, scram. Very light to me—almost vacuum.”
Cardew quickly looked the ship over. It was only dented from its earlier fall. He turned to Jo. “Did you manage to find out who it belonged to?”
“Sure. Two people like you—Pluto travelers. Caught in drag and crashed—necks broken. I read their brains before I threw them outside. Darned smart of me, and then some!”
Cardew looked; at him gratefully. “You’re a great scout, Jo,” he said warmly. “I only wish I could repay your generosity. Your orientation was right, by the way. How the devil you knew your way to these cliffs from the Fishnet is more than I can figure.”
Jo’s huge mouth grinned expansively.
“Oriental sense first class,” he agreed modestly. “You carbohydrates—me ammonia, but we think regular, Darned good race mine. Wish I could come with you, but your world
