Meek’s legs worked like pistons, his breath gasping in his throat, his body soaring through space as he covered long distances at each leap under the influence of lesser gravity.
Thunderous blasts hammered at the earphones in his helmet and as he ran he craned his head skyward.
Shooting down toward the plateau, forward rockets braking, was a small spaceship!
Hope rose within him and he glanced back over his shoulder. Hope died instantly. The Prowler was gaining on him, gaining fast.
Suddenly his legs gave out. Simply folded up, worn out with the punishment they had taken. He threw up his arms to shield his helmet plate and sobbed in panic.
The Asteroid Prowler would get him now. Sure as shooting. Just at the minute rescue came, the Prowler would get him.
But the Prowler didn’t get him. Nothing happened at all. Surprised, he sat up and spun around, crouching.
The ship had landed, almost at the edge of the plateau and a man was tumbling out of the port. The Prowler had changed his course, was galloping toward the ship.
The man from the ship ran in leaping bounds, a pistol in one gloved hand, and his yelp of terror rang in Meek’s earphones.
“Run, dang you. Run! That dad-blamed Prowler will be after us any minute now.”
“Stiffy,” yelled Meek. “Stiffy, you came out to get me.”
Stiffy landed beside him, hauled him to his feet.
“Dang right I came to get you,” he panted. “I thought them hoodlums would be up to some dirty tricks, so I stuck around and watched.”
He jerked at Meek’s arm.
“Come on, Oliver, we got to get along.”
But Meek jerked his arm away.
“Look what he’s doin!” he shouted. “Just look at him!”
The Prowler seemed to be bent on systematic destruction of the space ship. His jaws were ripping at the steel plating. … Ripping at it and tearing it away, peeling it off the frame as one might peel an orange.
“Hey,” howled Stiffy. “You can’t do that. Get out of there, you danged. …”
The Prowler turned to look at them, a heavy power cable in its mouth.
“You’ll be electrocuted,” yelped Stiffy. “Danged if it won’t serve you right.”
But, far from being electrocuted, the Prowler seemed to be enjoying himself. He sucked at the power cable and his eyes eyes glowed blissfully.
Stiffy flourished his pistol.
“Get away,” he yelled. “Get away or I’ll blister your danged hide.”
Almost playfully the Prowler minced away from the ship, feet dancing.
“He did it!” said Meek.
“Did what?” Stiffy scowled bewilderedly.
“Got away from that ship, just like you told him to.”
Stiffy snorted. “Don’t ever kid yourself he did it because I told him to. He couldn’t even hear me, probably. Living out here like this, he wouldn’t have anything to hear with. Probably he’s just trying to decide which one of us he’ll catch first. Better be ready to kick you up some dust.”
The Prowler trotted toward them, head bobbing up and down.
“Get going,” Stiffy yelled at Meek and brought up his pistol. A blue shaft of light whipped out, smacked the Prowler in the head, but the Prowler didn’t even falter in his stride. The energy charge seemed to have no power at all. It didn’t even spatter … it looked as if the blue pencil of raging death was boring straight into the spread of forehead between the monstrous eyes.
“Run, you danged fool,” Stiffy screeched at Meek. “I can’t hold him off.”
But Meek didn’t run … instead he sprang straight into the Prowler’s path, arm upraised.
“Stop!” he yelled.
III
The Prowler skidded to a stop, his metal hooves leaving scratches on the solid rock.
For a moment the three of them stood stock still, Stiffy’s jaw hanging in astonishment.
Meek reached out a hand and patted the Prowler’s massive shoulder.
“Good boy,” he said. “Good boy.”
“Come away from there!” Stiffy yelled in sudden terror. “Just one good gulp and that guy would have you.”
“Ah, shucks,” said Meek, “he won’t hurt anybody. He’s only hungry, that’s all.”
“That,” declared Stiffy, “is just what I’m afraid of.”
“You don’t understand,” insisted Meek. “He isn’t hungry for us. He’s starved for energy. Give him another shot from the gun.”
Stiffy stared at the gun hanging in his hand.
“You’re sure it wouldn’t make him sore?” he asked.
“Gosh, no,” said Meek. “That’s what he wants. He soaks it up. Didn’t you notice how the beam went right into him, without spattering or anything. And the way he sucked that power cable. He drained your ship of every drop of energy it had.”
“He did what?” yelped Stiffy.
“He drained the ship of energy. That’s what he lives on. That’s why he chased you. He wanted you to keep on shooting.”
Stiffy clapped a hand to his forehead.
“We’re sunk for certain, now,” he declared. “There might have been a chance to get back with just a few plates ripped off the ship. But with all the energy gone. …”
“Hey, Stiffy,” yelled Meek, “take a look at this.”
Stiffy moved nearer, cautiously.
“What you got now?” he demanded irritably.
“These marks on his shoulder,” said Meek. His gloved finger shook excitedly as he pointed. “They’re the same kind of marks as were on those stones I read about in the book. Marks no one could read. Fellow who wrote the book figured they were made by some other race that had visited Juno. Maybe a race from outside the Solar System, even.”
“Good gravy,” said Stiffy, in awe, “you don’t think. …”
“Sure, I do,” Meek declared with the air of a man who is sure of his knowledge. “A race came here one time and they had the Prowler along. For some reason they left him. Maybe he was just a robot and they didn’t have room for him, or maybe something happened to them. …”
“Say,” said Stiffy, “I bet you that’s just what he is. A robot. Attuned to thought waves. That’s why he minds you.”
“That’s what I figured,” Meek agreed. “Thought waves would be the same, no matter who thought them … human being or a … well … or something else.”
A sudden thought struck Stiffy. “Maybe them guys found the Lost Mine! By cracky,
