A World is Born | Page 9

the ledge, hidden from the men below.
"Back into the cave!" he yelled. His urgent hand fairly lifted Dio. The Martian glared at him, then obeyed. Bullets snarled against the rock. The light was too bad for accurate shooting, but luck couldn't stay with them forever.
Gray glanced over his shoulder as they scrambled up on the ledge. Caron waited by his ship. Ward and the others were charging the slope. Gray's teeth gleamed in a cruel grin.
Sweeping Jill into his arms, he stepped into the lapping flow of fire. Dio swore viciously, but he followed. They started toward the cave mouth, staggering in the rush of the wind.
"For God's sake, don't fall," snapped Gray. "Here they come!"
The pilot and one of the nondescript men were the first over. They were into the river of fire before they knew, it, and then it was too late. One collapsed and was buried. The pilot fell backward, and then other man died under his body, of a broken neck.
Ward stopped. Gray could see his face, dark and hard and calculating. He studied Gray and Dio, and the dead men. He turned and looked back at Caron. Then, deliberately, he stripped off his gun belt, threw down his gun, and waded into the river.
Gray remembered, then, that Ward too wore rubber boots, and had no metal on him.
* * * * *
Ward came on, the glowing ropes sliding surf-like around his boots. Very carefully. Gray handed Jill to Dio.
"If I die too," he said, "there's only Caron down there. He's too fat to stop you."
Jill spoke, but he turned his back. He was suddenly confused, and it was almost pleasant to be able to lose his confusion in fighting. Ward had stopped some five feet away. Now he untied the length of tough cord that served him for a belt.
Gray nodded. Ward would try to throw a twist around his ankle and trip him. Once his body touched those swarming creatures....
He tensed, watchfully. The rat's grin was set on Ward's dark face. The cord licked out.
But it caught Gray's throat instead of his ankle!
Ward laughed and braced himself. Cursing, Gray caught at the rope. But friction held it, and Ward pulled, hard. His face purpling, Gray could still commend Ward's strategy. In taking Gray off guard, he'd more than made up what he lost in point of leverage.
Letting his body go with the pull, Gray flung himself at Ward. Blood blinded him, his heart was pounding, but he thought he foresaw Ward's next move. He let himself be pulled almost within striking distance.
Then, as Ward stepped, aside, jerking the rope and thrusting out a tripping foot, Gray made a catlike shift of balance and bent over.
His hands almost touched that weird, flowing surf as they clasped Ward's boot. Throwing all his strength into the lift, he hurled Ward backward.
Ward screamed once and disappeared under the blue fire. Gray clawed the rope from his neck. And then, suddenly, the world began to sway under him. He knew he was falling.
Some one's hand caught him, held him up. Fighting down his vertigo as his breath came back, he saw that it was Jill.
"Why?" he gasped, but her answer was lost in a titanic roar of thunder. Lightning blasted down. Dio's voice reached him, thin and distant through the clamor.
"We'll be killed! These damn things will attract the bolts!"
It was true. All his work had been for nothing. Looking up into that low, angry sky, Gray knew he was going to die.
Quite irrelevantly, Jill's words in the tunnel came back to him. "You're a fool ... lost truth ... not true to lie!"
Now, in this moment, she couldn't lie to him. He caught her shoulders cruelly, trying to read her eyes.
Very faintly through the uproar, he heard her. "I'm sorry for you, Gray. Good man, gone to waste."
Dio stifled a scream. Thunder crashed between the sounding boards of the cliffs. Gray looked up.
A titanic bolt of lightning shot down, straight for them. The burning blue surf was agitated, sending up pseudopods uncannily like worshipping arms. The bolt struck.
The air reeked of ozone, but Gray felt no shock. There was a hiss, a vast stirring of creatures around him. The blue light glowed, purpled.
Another bolt struck down, and another, and still they were not dead. The fire-things had become a writhing, joyous tangle of tenuous bodies, glowing bright and brighter.
Stunned, incredulous, the three humans stood. The light was now an eye-searing violet. Static electricity tingled through them in eerie waves. But they were not burned.
"My God," whispered Gray. "They eat it. They eat lightning!"
Not daring to move, they stood watching that miracle of alien life, the feeding of living things on raw current. And when the last bolt had struck, the tide turned and rolled back down the wind-tunnel,