'We've got to.' Max's mouth was clamped shut, and his eyes were a frosty blue.
Slowly, they went back to Venustown.
Things were quiet in Venustown, and eyes were turned to the topmost level and the hidden exits. Out there was air and the sun and space - and Earthmen.
They had settled several miles up the river-bed. Their rude houses were springing up. Surrounding land was being cleared.
Farms were being staked out. Planting was taking place.
And in the bowels of Venus, eleven hundred Tweenies shaped their home and waited for an old man to track down the elusive equations that would enable a stat-ray to spread in two dimensions and curve.
Irene brooded somberly as she sat upon the rocky ledge and stared ahead to where the dim gray light indicated the existence of an exit to the open. Her shapely legs swung gently back and forth and Henry Scanlon, at her side, fought desperately to keep his gaze f ocussed harmlessly upon air.
'You know what, Henry?'
'What?'
'I'll bet the Phibs could help us.'
'Help us do what, Irene?'
'Help us get rid of the Earthmen.'
Henry thought it over carefully, 'What makes you think that?'
'Well, they're pretty clever - cleverer than we think. Their minds are altogether different, though, and maybe they could fix it. Besides - I've just got a feeling.' She withdrew her hand suddenly, 'You don't have to hold it, Henry.'
Henry swallowed, 'I - I thought you had a sort of unsteady seat there - might fall, you know.'
'Oh!' Irene looked down the terrific three-foot drop. 'There's something hi what you say. It does look pretty high here.'
Henry decided he was in the presence of a hint, and acted accordingly. There was a moment's silence while he seriously considered the possibility of her feeling a bit chilly - but before he had quite decided that she probably was, she spoke again.
'What I was going to say, Henry, was this. Why don't we go out and see the Phibs?'
'Dad would take my head off if I tried anything like that.'
'It would be a lot of fun.'
'Sure, but it's dangerous. We can't risk anyone seeing us.'
Irene shrugged resignedly, 'Well, if you're afraid, we'll say no more about it.'
Henry gasped and reddened. He was off the ledge in a bound, 'Who's afraid? When do you want to go?'
'Right now, Henry. Right this very minute.' Her cheeks flushed with enthusiasm.
'All right then. Come on.' He started off at a half-run, dragging her along. - And then a thought occurred to him and he stopped short.
He turned to her fiercely, 'I'll show you if I'm afraid.' His arms were suddenly about her and her little cry of surprise was muffled effectively.
'Goodness,' said Irene, when in a position to speak once more. 'How thoroughly brutal!'
'Certainly. I'm a very well-known brute,' gasped Henry, as he uncrossed his eyes and got rid of the swimming sensation in his head. 'Now let's get to those Phibs; and remind me, when I'm president, to put up a memorial to the fellow who invented kissing.'
Up through the rock-lined corridor, past the backs of outward-gazing sentries, out through the carefully camouflaged opening, and they were upon the surface.
The smudge of smoke on the southern horizon was grim evidence of the presence of man, and with that in mind, the two young Tweenies slithered through the underbrush into the forest and through the forest to the lake of the Phibs.
Whether in some strange way of their own the Phibs sensed the presence of friends, the two could not tell, but they had scarcely reached the banks when approaching dull-green smudges beneath water told of the creatures' coming.
A wide, goggle-eyed head broke the surface, and, in a second, bobbing frogheads dotted the lake.
Henry wet his hand and seized the friendly forelimb outstretched to him.
'Hi there, Phib.'
The grinning mouth worked and made its soundless answer.
'Ask him about the Earthmen, Henry,' urged Irene. Henry motioned impatiently.
'Wait a while. It takes time. I'm doing the best I can.'
For two slow minutes, the two, Tweenie and Phib, remained motionless and stared into each other's eyes. And then the Phib broke away and, at some silent order, every lake-creature vanished, leaving the Tweenies alone.
Irene stared for a moment, nonplussed, 'What happened?'
Henry shrugged, 'I don't know. I pictured the Earthmen and he seemed to know who I meant. Then I pictured Earthmen fighting us and killing us - and he pictured a lot of us and only a few of them and another fight in which we killed them. But then I pictured us killing them and then a lot more of them coming - hordes and hordes - and killing us and then -'
But the girl was holding her hands to her tortured ears, 'Oh, my goodness. No wonder the poor creature didn't understand. I wonder he didn't go crazy.'
'Well, I did the best I could,' was the gloomy response. 'This was all your nutty idea, anyway.'
Irene got no further with her retort than the opening syllable, for in a moment the lake was crowded with Phibs once more. 'They've come back,' she said instead.
A Phib pushed forward and seized Henry's hand while the others crowded around in great excitement. There were several moments of silence and Irene fidgeted.
'Well?' she said.
'Quiet, please. I don't get it. Something about big animals, or monsters, or-' His voice trailed away, and the furrow between his eyes deepened into painful concentration.
He nodded, first abstractedly, then vigorously.
He broke away and seized Irene's hands. 'I've got it - and it's the perfect solution. We can save Venustown all by ourselves, Irene, with the help of the Phibs - if you want to come to the Lowlands with me tomorrow. We can take along a pair of Tonite pistols and food supplies and if we follow the river, it oughtn't to take us more than two or three days there and the same time back. What do you say, Irene?'
Youth is not noted for forethought. Irene's hesitation was for effect only, 'Well - maybe we shouldn't go ourselves, but -but I'll go - with you.' There was the lightest accent on the last word.
Ten seconds later, the two were on their way to Venustown, and Henry was wondering, if on the whole, it weren't better to put up two memorials to the fellow who invented kissing.
The flickering red-yellow of the fire sent back ruddy highlights from Henry's lordly crest of hair and cast shifting shadows upon his brooding face.
It was hot in the Lowlands, and the fire made it worse, yet Henry huddled close and kept an anxious eye upon the sleeping form of Irene on the other side. The teeming life of the Venusian jungle respected fire, and the flames spelt safety.
They were three days from the plateau now. The stream had become a lukewarm, slowly-moving river, the shores of which were covered with the green scum of algae. The pleasant forests had given way to the tangled, vine-looped growths of the jungle. The mingled sounds of life had grown in volume and increased to a noisy crescendo. The air became warmer and damper; the ground swampier; the surroundings more fantastically unfamiliar.
And yet there was no real danger - of that, Henry was convinced. Poisonous life was unknown on Venus, and as for the tough-skinned monsters that lorded the jungles, the fire at night and the Phibs during day would keep them away.
Twice the ear-splitting shriek of a Centosaur had sounded in the distance and twice the sound of crashing trees had caused the two Tweenies to draw together in fear. Both times, the monsters had moved away again.
This was the third night out, and Henry stirred uneasily. The Phibs seemed confident that before morning they could start their return trip, and somehow the thought of Venustown was rather attractive. Adventure and excitement are fine and with every passing hour the glory of his scintillating bravery grew in Irene's eyes - which was wonderful - but still Venus-town and the friendly Highlands were nice to think about.