There was no hold, nothing but dirt towering thirty feet up.
Solo nodded. "I see what you mean. Our weapons are all designed for the twentieth century; they're useless against a pit of simple dirt. So they didn't bother to take them."
Illya nodded.
"We can cut through metal, wood, concrete. We can blow up doors and locks. But what do you do against dirt?"
Illya shrugged. Solo laughed.
"Well, nothing is all bad," Solo said. "It's the first time I've ever seen you speechless."
Illya glared. Solo laughed again. The girl, Penny Parsons, began to cry. Solo looked around.
"There must be some way out," Solo said.
Illya nodded and pointed off to the left. Solo saw a hole in the side of the pit. A large hole like a passage that seemed to lead downward. Solo studied it and nodded.
"This pit is connected to something else," Solo said. "Do you know where it leads?"
Illya nodded, and shrugged.
"Well, we have to try something. Maybe you missed a way out. Let's go."
Illya nodded again. The two agents took hold of Penny Parsons and led the girl to the large hole. They crawled into the hole with Solo leading.
The passage led downward at a sharp angle. It seemed to go on and on. But at last Solo saw light ahead. They emerged in an enormous underground chamber. Solo looked around. Many other holes led off all around the circular chamber. Illya pointed up.
Solo looked up and saw the gigantic base of the space station launching rocket. The rocket engines protruded from the base, ten of the largest engine cones he had ever seen. And they were different in appearance. Solo looked at Illya.
"Nuclear engines?" Solo said.
Illya nodded.
"This is the blast chamber. The passages to the pits are to give escape for the exhaust gases when it lifts off," Solo said.
Illya nodded. The small Russian indicated a sudden explosion, gas spreading out and into the exhaust holes, and filling the pits beyond. Then Illya indicated the end, finished. Solo nodded.
"The gases will finish us. Is there a way out of this chamber, maybe up along the rocket?" Solo asked.
Illya indicated that they could try. Solo looked around and saw the steel ladder that led up the side of the chamber to a platform on a level with the engine above. He walked to the ladder and climbed up to the stage. Illya came up behind him. On the platform the two agents looked at the rocket, and then upward.
There was no way up the sheer steel sides of the rocket pit. Solo shrugged and leaned out. He reached the tail section of the rocket itself and pulled himself up. Illya walked around and did the same on the other side. Slowly, painfully, both men pulled themselves up over the gigantic tail section.
Solo reached the end of the tail section. Above him the monster rocket stretched round and smooth. There was nothing more to hold on to and the steel-sided pit faded away above. Solo tried, but it was no use. He slid, slipped, and fell back to the tail section. There was no way up.
On the platform he waited. Illya appeared. Obviously the small Russian had had no better luck. The two men descended the ladder and rejoined Penny Parsons on the bottom. The deadly engines towered above them. Solo looked at the hundreds of holes all around to allow the ignition gases to escape.
"Well, we might as well see if they lead anywhere better than our original pit," Solo said.
Illya shrugged and the girl began to cry again. Solo patted her heaving shoulders.
"We might find something," Solo said.
But they did not.
They searched all the exhaust passages, but found nothing but more pits exactly like the one they had been dropped into. They split up and searched. There was nothing.
Dawn light tinged the open space above the pits. A hum had begun somewhere. The rocket was being readied. Then Illya came out of a side passage and nodded his blond head eagerly. The small Russian picked up his flat suitcase and motioned for Solo and the girl to follow.
The hum of engines warming grew louder.
Solo crawled along the dark passage behind the girl. Illya was up ahead. They emerged into another pit—a pit exactly like all the others they had reached. Solo swore.
"Damn it, Illya, this is—"
Illya pointed up. Solo looked up to where a very faint dawn light showed some kind of object hanging over the pit.
Solo narrowed his eyes and looked at the object. Then he saw what it was—a crane!
Above this pit there was a crane and boom hanging out over the hole itself. A crane intended to lower material into the pit. The cable of the crane dangled tantalizingly over the pit.
If they could somehow manage to reach it.
THREE
ILLYA OPENED his small suitcase and brought out the tiny electronic meter and activator. Solo looked at the tiny instrument designed to activate any electrically-controlled device. Then he looked up at the crane. It was just possible . . .
"If it can range that far," Solo said.
Illya's quizzical eyes smiled, indicated that the range was okay; the question was whether or not the crane was electrically operated and controlled.
"What have we got to lose?" Solo said.
Illya set the controls of the tiny actuator and aimed it upward. There was a silence.
Illya increased the power in the actuator.
Nothing happened.
The two agents looked at each other. Somewhere the hum of the nuclear engines pre-heating grew louder.
Illya slowly changed the direction of the electronic signal from the actuator, revolving the instrument in his hands.
Above an engine coughed, missed, struggled—and went on.
The crane began to vibrate. The sound was that of a gasoline engine, started by an electric spark.
"Now, are the controls electric?" Solo said. "Give it the gun, my Russian optimist."
Illya twisted the control dial on the actuator. There was a grinding of gears above, a whirring of a drum, and the cable began to move upward.
"Quick!" Solo cried. "If it reaches the top it could jam!"
Illya reversed the controls. There was a loud grinding of gears. The crane boom above shuddered as the gears reversed. The whole machine above shook, hesitated.
At the bottom of the pit, Solo and Illya watched.
Illya increased the power on the actuator the fraction of a turn. The crane shook—and the cable started down. It came down fast now. When it reached the bottom Illya stopped it with a flick of the control. There was a large cargo sling at the end.
Solo went first, his foot in the stirrup of the cargo sling, holding to the cable, riding up. He crouched and peered out as he was raised clear of the edge. There was no one near.
Penny Parsons came up next, then Illya.
In the faint light of dawn a thick mist rose from the swamp all around the island. Vague figures moved in the mist far off. Solo and Illya kept the girl between them as they advanced warily, unable to see more than twenty feet.
The mist that hid their enemies from them, hid them from their enemies. Men passed close to them in the thick white mist and did not even glance at them. The base was a beehive of activity. None of the men who passed them were armed until, suddenly they came out into an open space in front of a thick- walled concrete building.
The mist has thinned. It still hung heavy over the water of the swamp that surrounded the island, but here it had thinned. Two armed men stood in front of the main doorway into the building. Illya nodded to Solo. The two agents warned Penny Parsons to stay where she was, and vanished into the swirling mist.