The Beast of Space | Page 2

had been the first
one to the right. Now he crossed to the opening in the opposite wall.
The mouth of this cave was much larger, wider than the other. He stood

in the opening, slowly swung the beam of his torch around the smooth
walls, still holding Digger, who, by now, was indicating that he'd like
to be set down. Nat released him unthinkingly, his mind fully taken up
with what the light revealed.
* * * * *
Spaceships! The room was packed with them--all sizes, old and new. A
veritable sargasso. At first, he thought they might be craft belonging to
nameless inhabitants of this world, but, as he approached them, he
recognized Terrestrial identifications.
The first was a scout ship of American Spaceways! Nat recognized the
name: Ceres, remembered a telecast account of its disappearance in
space. There was a neat little reward for information as to its
whereabouts. Nat's lips curled in derision: it wouldn't equal the expense
of his journey out here. There was a deep groove in the smooth material
of the floor where the ship had been dragged through the doorway into
the room. What machines could have done this work without leaving
their own traces? He went to the other ships: all were small, mostly
single or two-passenger craft. The last entry in the logs of many was to
the effect that they were about to land on the Asteroid Moira to rescue a
girl held captive there.
None had crashed; all ships were in perfect order. But all were deserted.
Two doors were gone from the interior of one of the vessels. They
might have been removed for any of a hundred reasons--but why here?
Nat's glance swept the room, came to rest on the figure of a heavy duty
robot of familiar design. Semi-human in form, it looked like some
misshapen, bent, headless giant. He inspected it: Meyers Robot, Inc.
Earth designed for mining operations on Mars.
"Well, Digger, I can see now how these ships were brought in here; that
robot could move any one of these with ease. But that doesn't explain
where the humans have gone. It might be space pirates using this
asteroid for a base, or it might be some alien form of life. We're still
free. Shall we beat it or stay and try to check this out?"

He did not know how much of this got over to the spacehound, but the
impressions he received in answer were those of approving their
remaining where they were.
"I suppose the best system is to explore the rest of the caves in order;
let's go."
Followed by Digger, he walked quietly toward the next cave on the left,
slipped through the doorway, and, standing with his back against the
wall, swung the light of his torch in a wide, swift arc about the room.
Halfway around, he stopped abruptly; a slim, petite figure appeared
clearly in the searchlight's glare. The girl he had seen on the televisor
stood in the middle of the room, facing a telecaster, her back toward
him. She did not seem aware of him as he moved forward. What could
be wrong; surely that light would arouse her.
The figure did not turn as he approached. So near was he now that he
could seize her easily, still she made no move. Nat stepped to one side,
flashed his torch in her face. Her beautifully-lashed eyes stared straight
ahead unblinkingly; the expression on her lovely composed face did not
change. A robot! He laughed bitterly. But then, he was not the only
one....
She was an earth product; Nat opened her helmet and found the
trade-mark of Spurgin's Robots hung like a necklace about her throat.
But whoever had lured him here easily could have removed her from
one of the vessels in the front cave. It did not seem like the work of
pirates, more likely unknown intelligent beings.
He turned to examine the televisor. It, too, was an earth product. The
mechanism was of old design; evidently it had been taken from the first
of the ships to land here. Outside of the telecaster and the solitary robot,
there was nothing to be seen in this cave.
A sound behind him. He whirled, heat-rod poised for swift, stabbing
action. Nothing--except--small bowling-ball things rolling in through a
narrow door. Ridiculous things of the same yellowish-quartz material
as composed the cave-walls. At regular intervals a dull, bluish light

poured forth from rounded holes in their smooth sides. And issuing
forth from within these comic globes was the same weird, compelling
music he had heard before. They rolled up to him, brushed against his
toes; a shrilling in his brain told him that Digger was aware of them.
"Back, Digger!" he thought as he