The ledge on which they were perched began to vibrate and a few pebbles bounced down past them, dislodged from the path above. At least one tank was nearing their position, and all it had to do was blunder down the slope above them to bring their lives to a sudden and very violent conclusion. Is this really the end? Petra thought, her mind chilled with fear. Are we about to be crushed by a driver less tank, or become food for a pack of…?
“Food!” she cried out. “That’s it—food!”
Jan stared at her in bafflement.
“Look how many of the horrors are packed into the moat. It can’t possibly provide enough food for them—so they must be cannibals!”
“What does…?” Jan’s brow cleared. “If we cut some of them…start them eating each other…it might distract them enough to let us swim across.”
“It’s our only hope.”
Moving with controlled urgency, aware of the rock face trembling with the weight of the approaching tank, Jan and Petra unsheathed their swords and stabbed down at one of the cruising black shapes. The incredibly sharp plastic blades sliced into the dark flesh, releasing swirls of inky fluid.
The result was immediate, dramatic and appalling.
Almost before they were able to withdraw their swords there was a convergent surge of glistening black bodies which completely overwhelmed the wounded creature. Within a few seconds it had disappeared, torn apart by dozens of its fellows, some of which—in a primal frenzy of blood lust—blindly attacked each other. Hundreds of others, drawn by the scent of food, swarmed into the area with incredible speed, turning the surface of the moat into a heaving, threshing mass of scaly bodies and tentacles.
Jan and Petra knew at once that there was no hope of swimming across the moat. They glanced at each other, wide-eyed, as the same desperate idea was born in their minds. In that instant of near-telepathic communion, both knew exactly what had to be done, and they rose to their feet as the menacing shape of a tank blotted out the light from above them. Not daring to think about what might happen, they launched themselves out from the rocky ledge—on to the living surface.
With three superhuman, fear-boosted strides—moving in perfect unison—they crossed the moat and gained the opposite bank. Jaws snapped loudly at their heels.
Reaching firm ground, driven by all the forces of nightmare, they ran for the jungle without looking back. Behind them there was a sliding rumble followed by a crash, and Jan knew the tank had careered down into the moat.
“That’s the third time we’ve been lucky,” he said, feeling thankful simply to be alive.
Petra shot him a sideways glance. “Yes, but there has to be a limit…”
As if to confirm her words, the pattern of events changed immediately. On previous occasions when one of the pursuing machines had been put out of action there had been a blessed lull in the activity, as though the effort of propelling the juggernaut by remote control had tired the malign alien. This time, however, they were not to be granted a breathing space. As they neared the wall of trees and foliage the mechanical screeching behind them abruptly increased in volume, going into a crescendo. The shrieking of rusted metal wheels and tracks, forced into motion for the first time in two years, made the air hideous.
Jan and Petra glanced back and their spirits quailed when they saw that every intact war machine and vehicle in the cleared area was stirring into life.
It was obvious that the alien monster was going all out for the kill!
With the clamour of the pursuing armour ringing in their ears, they reached the edge of the jungle and plunged into it. Before they had covered more than a few metres they were forced to use their swords to hack a path through tough undergrowth. They consoled themselves with the thought that the jungle was a natural barrier which was helping to save their lives. It was possible for them to slip in between the closely spaced tree trunks, whereas the bulky vehicles were forced to make detours.
As Petra was hacking at a barrier of tough vines it occurred to her that the tanks might be able to do the same thing on a vastly larger scale with their weapons. She put the idea to Jan and was relieved when he shook his head.
“The tanks’ laser cannon and flame throwers would have been able to blast a path through the jungle if they had been in working order,” he said. “But two years of rain and rust are bound to have put them out of action.”
That was one factor in their favour, they knew, but was it enough to enable them to negotiate safely the two horrendously difficult kilometres to the planet’s north pole?
As they struggled to cut their way step by step through the impeding masses of foliage, Jan was forced to admit to himself that he was rapidly running out of strength. He glanced at Petra. Her hair had straggled down from under her jungle hat and, though she was keeping up the pace and wielding her sword as effectively as any man, her face was taut with weariness and strain. She had displayed boundless courage and loyalty—and he knew she was prepared to go with him into the alien’s lair itself—but their growing exhaustion was a major cause for concern…
Jan ceased his battle against the resilient vegetation, and on seeing him pause Petra did likewise.
“Are you all right?” she said, taking deep draughts of the humid air.
He shook his head, chest heaving as he laboured for breath. “I’m having second thoughts. This is killing us. Even if we manage to reach the tower that Major Haines talked about, we’re bound to be on the point of exhaustion—and the tanks might still be on our trail.”
“We can’t let the monster get away with everything it has done.”
“No, but I’m beginning to think that the sensible thing to do—and also the surest way to finish the monster off—would be for us to head back to the Seeker and get away from this hellhole. As soon as we get into orbit we’re bound to be picked up by a police vessel.”
“That’s…” Petra paused as an unusually fierce bolt of lightning was followed by an ear-punishing thunderclap. “That’s all very well—we’d be scolded and packed off home—but what about the monster?”
Jan wiped sweat from his brow. “That’s the whole point! We are the only two human beings who know of the monster’s existence. But when what we have learned is passed on to the Council of Empire our armed forces will easily be able to deal with the alien. It calls all the shots when it’s dealing with ground forces, but just one nuclear bomb lobbed down from orbit would blast it to hell.”
“You’re forgetting the Council has closed the book on this planet,” Petra said. “They just aren’t interested in it.”
“That was when they thought they were up against the natural forces of the whole planet,” Jan insisted. “But when they learn they’re dealing with a single alien entity—a murderous invader—everything will be different. When they realise they can have an entire world for the cost of a single bomb they’ll have a rush of patriotism to the head. That’s the way those people think.”
“You could be right,” Petra said, tilting her head as she weighed up the idea. “There’s going to be a problem in getting them to believe us, though—we should have taken Major Haines’ recorder.”
“Damn!” Jan slashed at a visibly moving creeper. “It’s too late now—we’ll just have to convince everybody by our own efforts. What do you say? Do we head back to the Seeker?”
“Suits me.” Petra gave him a tired smile. “This is hardly my idea of a perfect day, you know.”
“That’s it decided then.” Jan gave a sigh of relief. “We head back to the Seeker.”