A World is Born | Page 3

Leigh Douglass Brackett
Shadow side at their backs, fighting
against wind and storm and heat to build a world to replace the ones the
War had taken from them.
"So much could happen," she whispered. "An accident, an escape...."

The inter-dome telescreen buzzed its signal. Jill, caught in a queer
mood of premonition, went to it.
The face of Dio the Martian appeared on the screen, still wet and dirty
from the storm-soaked fields, disheveled from his battle across the
plain in the chaotic winds.
"I want to see you, Miss Moulton," he said. "There's something funny I
think you ought to know."
"Of course," said Jill, and met her father's eyes. "I think we'll see, now,
which one of us is right."
* * * * *
The barracks were quiet, except for the mutter of distant thunder and
the heavy breathing of exhausted men. Tom Ward crouched in the
darkness by Mel Gray's bunk.
"You ain't gonna go soft at the last minute, are you?" he whispered.
"Because I can't afford to take chances."
"Don't worry," Gray returned grimly. "What's your proposition?"
"I can give you the combination to the lock of the hangar passage. All
you have to do is get into Moulton's office, where the passage door is,
and go to it. The ship's a two-seater. You can get her out of the valley
easy."
Gray's eyes narrowed in the dark. "What's the catch?"
"There ain't none. I swear it."
"Look, Ward. I'm no fool. Who's behind this, and why?"
"That don't make no difference. All you want ... ow!"
Gray's fingers had fastened like steel claws on his wrist.

"I get it, now," said Gray slowly. "That's why I was sent here.
Somebody wanted me to make trouble for Moulton." His fingers
tightened agonizingly, and his voice sank to a slow drawl.
"I don't like being a pawn in somebody else's chess game."
"Okay, okay! It ain't my fault. Lemme go." Ward rubbed his bruised
wrist. "Sure, somebody--I ain't sayin' who--sent you here, knowin'
you'd want to escape. I'm here to help you. You get free, I get paid, the
Big Boy gets what he wants. Okay?"
Gray was silent, scowling in the darkness. Then he said.
"All right. I'll take a chance."
"Then listen. You tell Moulton you have a complaint. I'll...."
Light flooded the dark as the door clanged open. Ward leaped like a
startled rabbit, but the light speared him, held him. Ward felt a pulse of
excitement beat up in him.
The long ominous shadows of the guards raised elongated guns. The
barracks stirred and muttered, like a vast aviary waking.
"Ward and Gray," said one of the guards. "Moulton wants you."
Gray rose from his bunk with the lithe, delicate grace of a cat. The
monotony of sleep and labor was ended. Something had broken. Life
was once again a moving thing.
* * * * *
John Moulton sat behind the untidy desk. Dio the Martian sat grimly
against the wall. There was a guard beside him, watching.
Mel Gray noted all this as he and Ward came in. But his cynical blue
eyes went beyond, to a door with a ponderous combination lock. Then
they were attracted by something else--the tall, slim figure standing
against the black quartz panes of the far wall.

It was the first time he had seen Jill Moulton. She looked the perfect
sober apostle of righteousness he'd learned to mock. And then he saw
the soft cluster of black curls, the curve of her throat above the dark
dress, the red lips that balanced her determined jaw and direct grey
eyes.
Moulton spoke, his shaggy head hunched between his shoulders.
"Dio tells me that you, Gray, are not a volunteer."
"Tattletale," said Gray. He was gauging the distance to the hangar door,
the positions of the guards, the time it would take to spin out the
combination. And he knew he couldn't do it.
"What were you and Ward up to when the guards came?"
"I couldn't sleep," said Gray amiably. "He was telling me bedtime
stories." Jill Moulton was lovely, he couldn't deny that. Lovely, but not
soft. She gave him an idea.
Moulton's jaw clamped. "Cut the comedy, Gray. Are you working for
Caron of Mars?"
Caron of Mars, chairman of the board of the Interplanetary Prison
Authority. Dio had mentioned him. Gray smiled in understanding.
Caron of Mars had sent him, Gray, to Mercury. Caron of Mars was
helping him, through Ward, to escape. Caron of Mars wanted Mercury
for his own purposes--and he could have it.
"In a manner of speaking, Mr. Moulton," he said gravely, "Caron of
Mars is working for me."
He caught Ward's sharp hiss of remonstrance. Then Jill Moulton
stepped forward.
"Perhaps he doesn't understand what he's doing, Father." Her eyes
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