There were marks in the dirt, the tracks of sandaled feet. "Thulon, the
three who were with him, wore sandals!" Hargraves rasped. "They came
back here. They opened these graves."
"But what happened after that? Are you suggesting those primitive
gray-beards resurrected Hal Sarkoff?"
"I'm not suggesting anything because I don't know anything," Hargraves
answered. "I am just remembering that Thulon and the three who were with
him _looked human too_! I am also remembering that the sphere which
attacked us seemingly was without a crew. Our beams blasted it wide
open. It was seemingly filled with machinery. Nothing else. If there
were any intelligent creatures in it, they were in no form that we
recognize. Come on!" Hargraves started running toward the ship.
The ship, badly damaged as it was, represented their sole hope of
survival. Without it, they would be helpless.
Hal Sarkoff was with the ship. Or the thing that was masquerading as
Sarkoff. Thulon had looked human too. Possibly Sarkoff and his two dead
comrades had been removed from their graves in order to make possible a
perfect duplication of their bodies, the probing of cell structure, both
body and brain. Perhaps the things that lurked here on this world could
read memories from dead minds. That might be the explanation of
Sarkoff's memory.
The important fact was that Sarkoff's body was not in its grave. Where
so much was unknown, this was one indisputable fact. The thing that was
on the ship must be placed not only under heavy guard but in a cage from
which escape was impossible. Then an examination could begin.
There was evil on this world. The trees, the vegetation, the ground
under his racing feet, was evil. In his calmer moments Jed Hargraves
would have said that evil was another word for danger. He wasn't calm
now. The panic he had been rigidly excluding from his mind had burst the
dam he had built before it. He could feel danger in the air. It was in
the dawn, in the light of the sky. It was everywhere. He and his
companions were aliens on this world, and the planet was striking at
them, striving to eliminate them, contriving to destroy them.
He heard it before he saw it.
Something was grunting in the air. Above the tops of the trees something
was grunting. He needed seconds to recognize the sound. Then he
recognized it. And jerked himself to a halt, his eyes wildly probing
upward.
He saw it.
* * * * *
The ship. The grunting roar had come from the Kruchek drivers fighting
the gravity of the planet.
The ship had taken off without them.
Had Nielson gone mad? Had he seen danger approaching and jumped the ship
into the sky to escape it?
"Wait! Nielson! Pick us up!"
The ship flew on. Gaining speed, it passed over their heads. They caught
another glimpse of it as it passed over an opening in the branches of
the trees. Then it was gone, the throb of the drivers dying quickly
away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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