Still gripping his nostrils, Leeming jerked open the door, dashed along the passage and out of the building. Hearing the clatter of his boots, three more guards rushed out of a room, pulled up as if held back by an invisible hand and threw their dinners over each other.
Outside, Leeming let go his nose. His straining lungs took in great gasps of fresh air as he sprinted toward the helicopter that had brought him here. This machine provided his only chance of freedom since the barracks and the entire village would be aroused at any moment and he could not hope to outrun the lot on foot.
Reaching the helicopter, he clambered into it, locked its door. The alien controls did not baffle him because he had made careful note of them during his previous ride. Still breathing hard while his nerves twanged with excitement, he started the motor. The vanes began to turn.
Nobody had yet emerged from the stench-ridden exit he had used but somebody did come out of another door farther along the building. This character was unarmed and apparently unaware that anything extraordinary had taken place. But he did know that the humming helicopter was in wrong possession. He yelled and waved his arms as the vanes speeded up. Then he dived back into the building, came out holding a rifle.
The ’copter made its usual preliminary bumps, then soared. Below and a hundred yards away the rifle went off like a firecracker. Four holes appeared in the machine’s plastic dome, something nicked the lobe of Leeming’s left ear and drew blood, the tachometer flew to pieces on the instrument-board. A couple of fierce, hammer like clunks sounded on the engine but it continued to run without falter and the ’copter gained height.
Bending sideways, Leeming looked out and down through the perforated dome. His assailant was frantically shoving another magazine into the gun. A second burst of fire came when the ’copter was five hundred feet up and scooting fast There came a sharp ping as a sliver of metal flew off the tail-fan but that was the only hit.
Leeming took another look below. The marksman had been joined by half a dozen others, all gazing skyward. None were attempting to shoot because the fugitive was now out of range. Even as he watched, the whole bunch of them ran into the building, still using the smell-free door. He could give a guess where they were heading for, namely, the radio-room.
The sight killed any elation he might have enjoyed. He had the sky to himself but it wasn’t going to be forever. Now the moot question was whether he could keep it to himself long enough to make distance before he landed in the wilds and took to his heels again.
FIVE
Definitely he was not escaping the easy way. In many respects he was worse off than he’d been before. Afoot in the forest he’d been able to trudge around. in concealment, feed himself, get some sleep. Now the whole world knew—or soon would know—that a Terran was on the loose. To keep watch while flying he needed eyes in the back of his head and even those wouldn’t save him if something superfast such as a jetplane appeared. And if he succeeded in dumping his machine unseen he’d have to roam the world without a weapon of any kind.
Mentally he cursed the extreme haste with which he had dashed out of that room. The guard who’d fired the stink-gun had promptly collapsed upon it, hiding it with his body, but there might have been time to roll the fellow out of the way and snatch it up. And by the door had been two rifles either of which he could have grabbed and taken with him. He awarded himself the Idiot’s Medal for passing up these opportunities despite the knowledge that at the time his only concern had been to hold his breath long enough to reach uncontaminated air.
Yes, his sole object had been to race clear of a paralysing nausea—but that needn’t have stopped him from swiping a gun if he’d been quicker on the uptake. Perhaps there was a gun aboard the ’copter. Flying at two thousand feet, he was trying to keep full attention six ways at once, before, behind, to either side, above and below. He couldn’t do that and examine the machine’s interior as well. The search would have to wait until after he had landed.
By now he was some distance over the forest in which he’d been wandering. It struck him that when he’d been captured and taken away two helicopters had remained parked in this area. Possibly they had since departed for an unknown base. Or perhaps they were still there and about to rise in response to a radioed alarm.
His alertness increased, he kept throwing swift glances around in all directions while the machine hummed onward. After twenty minutes a tiny dot arose from the far horizon. At that distance it was impossible to tell whether it was a ’copter, a jetplane, or what. His motor chose this moment to splutter and squirt a thin stream of smoke. The whirling vanes hesitated, resumed their steady whup-whup.
Leeming sweated with anxiety and watched the faraway dot. Again the motor lost rhythm and spurted more smoke. The dot grew a little larger but was moving at an angle that showed it was not heading straight for him. Probably it was the herald of an aerial hunt that would find him in short time.
The motor now became asthmatic, the vanes slowed, the ’copter lost height. Greasy smoke shot from its casing in a series of forceful puffs, a fishy smell came with them. If a bullet had broken an oil-line, thought Leeming, he couldn’t keep up much longer. It would be best to descend while he still retained some control.
As the machine lowered he swung its tail-fan in an effort to zigzag and find a suitable clearing amid the mass of trees. Down he went to one thousand feet, to five hundred, and nowhere could he see a gap. There was nothing for it but to use a tree as a cushion and hope for the best. Reversing the tail-fan to arrest his forward motion, he sank into an enormous tree that looked capable of supporting a house. Appearances proved deceptive for the huge branches were so brittle and easily gave way under the weight imposed upon them. To the accompaniment of repeated cracks the ’copter fell through the foliage in a rapid series of halts and jolts that made its occupant feel as though locked in a barrel that was bumping down a steep flight of stairs.
The last drop was the longest but ended in thick bushes and heavy undergrowth that served to absorb the shock. Leeming crawled out with bruised cheekbone and shaken frame. Blood slowly oozed from the ear lobe that had been. grazed by a bullet. He gazed upward. There was now a wide hole in the overhead vegetation but he doubted whether. it would be noticed by any aerial observer unless flying very low.
The ’copter lay tilted to one side, its bent and twisted vanes forced to a sharp angle with the drive shaft, bits of twig and bark still clinging to their edges. Hurriedly he searched the big six-seater cabin for anything that might prove useful. Of weapons there were none. In the toolbox he did find a twenty-inch spanner of metal resembling bronze and this he confiscated thinking it better than nothing.
Under the two seats at the rear he discovered neat compartments filled with alien food. It was peculiar stuff and not particularly appetizing in appearance but right now he was hungry enough to gnaw a long-dead goat covered with flies. So he tried a circular sandwich made of what looked and tasted like two flat disks of unleavened bread with a thin layer of white grease between them. It went down, stayed down and made him feel better. For all he knew the, grease might have been derived from a pregnant lizard. He was long past caring. His belly demanded more and he ate another two sandwiches.