CHAPTER ELEVEN

MANY obstacles remained before the others got around to seeing everything in my light. I'd soon acquainted them with the facts of Mark's logic and my own reappraisal of the situation. I tried to implant the notion of superiority in them and, to an extent, succeeded. It was known to us that our technology was far in advance of the giants' and, beyond size, they were no match for us mentally. If anything, we were the mental giants on this planet! Yet, I knew, Mark and I were alone when it came to fully accepting the premise that giants no longer constituted the same danger they formerly had seemed. Even Dan lost track of the finer points I wanted them to grasp. "Steve, you're way out on this 'think bigger than giants' deal. Sure, they're slow-minded semi-morons compared to Mark's I.Q. but that doesn't give us the right to believe we can outwit them. We're small. And small men nearly always get clobbered." Fitzhugh snorted. "I disagree. Small men are the pride of mankind. History proves that stature alone is no guarantee of mental agility. Tall and lean makes a man weak and over-confident." "Enough!" I yelled, losing my temper. "Must we always revert to type? Can't we ever make plans without a full-scale debate? I'm ordering everybody to look for the gun. When we find it - and we will - there'll be ample opportunity to discuss ways of getting it into position and how to fire it." Chipper barked excitedly as Barry snapped a finger and headed for the long grass. The boy was prepared to take orders. His dog had already been trained in that respect. They were the example I required. The others slowly followed in Barry's wake - silently mulling over what I'd said, no doubt. "You've got them hopping - just see you keep on top," Mark said as we walked through the thicker, taller weeds. I didn't answer. I detested giving orders. I was used to authority as captain of a sub-orbital rocket craft. Crew - and in emergencies, passengers - obeyed the captain's instructions unquestioningly. Yet, this wasn't aboard ship. I was in the same spot as any of them. Each had to pull his or her weight if we could ever dare hope to see Earth again. Command was power and power could corrupt. I didn't imagine I could be corrupted by my limited power but they didn't know this. To them, as a tyrant ruler, I was as bad as, or worse than, a giant. That's how it struck me and I wasn't exactly enthusiastic with the prospect of issuing commands. Somebody had to - but, I found myself thinking, why me? Why not Dan? Or Mark? Even Fitzhugh had intelligence and could easily have assumed authority. Always providing we would accept a leader who gave orders from the refuge of his tent. Into battle, men - I'm behind you... far behind! "It's somewhere near here, Steve." Dan waited as I joined them. To the right, stretching in an arc towards the forests, the sandy acres of death lay tranquil, unbroken except for the occasional leaf resting lightly on its surface. We'd good reason to know the treachery of these sands. We'd almost lost the ship here. With Dan, Valerie, Barry, Betty included. I could still visualise the titanic struggle as the giant convict clung to the ship, threshing wildly as the quicksands sucked him down into their bottomless depths. Only luck and the convict's unyielding desire to live had saved the day. Plus, of course, a generous helping hand from three tiny Earthmen called Mark, Alex and Steve. "Spread out," I told them, adding a warning, "and don't go within ten yards of the sand. When you see the gun - yell." We separated. Mark was closest to me. I didn't mention that he should still be working on the hydrogen cells. Once we found the gun and dragged it into position he would have an abundance of help. Dan was to my left, scowling blackly at the brush as he ploughed into it, almost lost from sight in the fantastic growth. "Steve... I've found it!" Betty stood pointing as we converged on her. "How can we get that?" Valerie asked, disappointment showing on her face. The gun lay lodged between two branches, several feet from the ground. A canopy of leaves shielded it from above but the sand under it was suspect - extremely suspect. "Is it...?" Barry asked timidly. "We'll soon see," I replied, and, praying with every step, walked forward - onto the sand. Grains dislodged under my feet but it held... held... until I was directly beneath the gun. Stretching, I felt the corrugated butt with my fingertips. The gun moved - and creaking branches sent a shiver racing down my spine. If it fell. "Start making some form of sled," I yelled. "Dan, you and Valerie find several large sticks. We'll push the gun out of its perch." "No! Wait." I slowly faced Mark. He had a dreamy look about him and his gaze wandered up into the soaring tree. "We're overlooking a very important fact here," he said softly. "Why should we expend all our energies dragging the gun back to the platform...?" He stared at me then, smile widening into a huge grin. I frowned, studied the situation anew. Dan laughed. "Of course. Now I'm with you and Steve. We're thinking small again! But the gun has a range capable of reaching the ship, the shelter, the giant. Maybe security headquarters if we could climb that tree and aim it." Mark nodded sagely. "Exactly, Dan. Steve - you others - always remember what takes us an hour is hardly a journey for a giant. We didn't travel far so that means, giant-size, we're within reach of the platform already. Now, supposing we did drag the gun back with us - we'd have to secure it in position for firing. If we save our strength, we can haul it into the tree, lash it and attach a rope to the trigger. Then, a pull and . bye-bye giant!" "Brilliant," Fitzhugh remarked sarcastically. "Now tell me how we can lift that heavy gun into the tree? We can't even climb it." "I can," Barry said proudly. I smiled. "Not you, Barry. Dan and I will manage okay. Ready, Dan?" The co-pilot eyed the tree speculatively. "It's mighty big, Steve. I suppose." He laughed, shook his head in disgust. "There I go again, thinking small. Come on, captain - give me a boost up." Being diminutive has advantages under certain circumstances. This was one of them. A giant could not have found handholds on this tree yet we managed easily. Indentations incapable of providing a fingertip ledge were more than deep enough for us to rest upon. The gnarling bark was a series of cracks and pathways for us to travel and, outside of a feeling of being on the side of the Empire State Building, we soon reached an impossible height from which we could see the spreading countryside. "Lord, look!" Dan eyed the forests with disgust. From below, the land was a continuous forest interrupted by a ribbon of majestic road and then, became forest again. Now, for the first time since we landed here, we could see exactly what lay around us. Our forests were little more than a huge city parkway - completely surrounded by towering skyscrapers and everything that went to make a city. Streets, houses, other parks, complexes of squat, concrete- solid buildings, and, distant, rising mountains. "If we'd tried to pick a spot right in the middle of the giants," Dan remarked, "we couldn't have found one more central." I smiled. "Look over there, Dan. That's the edge of town. Open country beyond - if only we could lift the ship . there'd be more safety out there where the real forests are." "We will, Steve," he replied. "First, let's get the gun hoisted." He stared down. Our friends were minute specks amid the tangled undergrowth of the park. Only the gleaming metal of the gun was clearly visible. "How the hell?" he moaned. "You stay there, Dan. I'll climb down. We'll make ropes from vines. I'll bring a lightweight one up and we'll haul the strong ones after it. It may mean," and I judged the distance and reckoned the gun's bulk before adding, "they'll all have to come up with us. We've got lots to do before dark." "Go ahead, sir," he laughed. "I don't mind waiting. The view is fantastic." Leaving him to his sightseeing, I scrambled down the trunk, glad to set foot on firm ground again. Mark asked, "Can it be done?" "With an awful lot of effort, Mark. Now listen, all of you." and I waited until they grouped round me before continuing, "We need rope. Enough to reach to Dan and back. We need a pulley - Barry, go back to the ship and fetch us the apparatus we used to construct the canopy of leaves. That should do the trick." Barry grinned, stuck his small chest out, whistled. "Chipper - come on, boy." I warned, "Be careful, Barry. Don't let Chipper run off." "Chipper does what he's told, Steve," the boy replied proudly. "I'll be back in a flash." He ruffled Chipper's shaggy coat, ran into the forest with the bounding, yelping dog on his heels. "Okay! That's the pulley settled. Let's find vines and anything else that'll make a rope," I said. I glanced at the sky. "We haven't much time left before nightfall so hurry. I want the gun raised, lashed and fired before this day ends." Valerie laughed. "Come on gang - think big! Do big! Be big! And, brother, we'll have to be mighty big to fulfil this order!" She winked at Betty and, together, the girls went off seeking the vital vines. Fitzhugh snorted but, wordlessly, strolled away. I didn't expect him to do much. He'd probably find a quiet nook and rest his body in ardent contemplation of hanging vines. That was his way and I wasn't inclined to start trouble with a lecture. Mark and I could work harder. When Barry returned laden under the weight of the twin pulleys we were stringing, weaving the collected vines. Fitzhugh had surprised us all. He had discovered the largest quantity of creepers and had actually struggled back to the tree with them - alone. A spirit of urgency helped us slave harder. Mark and I did more than our fair share but I couldn't find fault with the others. Dan had disobeyed orders and come down the tree and was helping Valerie to fashion a loop round the gun. At last, everything was ready. Dan and I climbed the tree again, trailing a light vine behind, climbing ... climbing into the rarefied stratosphere of the dizzy heights of this alien world. First, we pulled the pulleys up and fastened them to a stout branch. Then, satisfied it would hold, we manhandled the heavier vines through the pulley-wheels until we had them taut. I signalled Mark and the ground crew took the strain. Dan and I positioned ourselves on the branch immediately below the pulleys and, as they began to groan, we pulled in conjunction with the others. Slowly, back-breakingly so, the gun lifted, swung, started to ascend. Sweat poured down my cheeks and sides as we laboured to hoist the gun into the tree. Without the pulleys we could not have managed. Once or twice, as the strain proved too much for one or the other, the gun dangled, slid back a few feet, held until united effort once again got it started on its upward journey. At last, the gun dangled within reach. Dan manoeuvred himself onto another branch and guided the muzzle into position. Then, standardising our movements, we eventually swung the heavy weapon into its niche. Like a pair of monkeys excitedly surveying a new tree- top abode, Dan and I clambered around the huge trunk, lashing the gun securely. "Phew! I wouldn't want to do this for a living," Dan said as we waved success to the ground-crew. "Nor I. Okay, rest-period finished. Now - where is the platform?" Dan's look sizzled me. "Slave-driver. It's out there." he gestured towards the solid block of the security building which was clearly visible from our eyrie. Faintly, and only because I was aware that the platform existed, I could distinguish it. Once, I thought, I detected slight movement inside its camouflaged drapery. Climbing onto the gun-butt, I peered along the sights. It was akin to staring through a huge telescope with ragged-edged notches and projections rising to give an indefinite aim. I cursed the giants' workmanship. Earth would never have tolerated such poor finishing on a weapon of death. Earth demanded perfection in its ability to destroy, maim and kill. "Lower the barrel, Dan." He swung from the barrel, his slight weight doing little to bring the muzzle down. But, little or not, the gun slowly, agonisingly slowly, dropped until... "Okay! That's it!" He dropped to the branch, almost falling off. "I suppose we've got to secure it in this position now?" He smiled. "When you're ready - like immediately," I replied with an answering smile. While we lashed the gun into its final rigidity, I had a sudden flash of intuition. I halted, stared at the hammer, said, "It won't work, Dan. Not unless we can cock the hammer. If we begin pulling on the trigger we'll knock it off-target for sure." He grunted. "Then we're beaten, Steve. You and I couldn't move that." "We could if Fitzhugh and Mark gave us a hand." Dan laughed uproariously. "Fitzhugh up here?" Ignoring his comment, I shouted to the watching, waiting group gathered at the bottom of the tree. "Mark. can you hear me?" Ever so faint, Mark's voice reached us. "Just. what's wrong?" "We need you and Fitzhugh to help us." "Stay there, Steve. We'll be up." Dan eased himself to the edge of his branch and stared down in amazement as, rapidly, Fitzhugh followed Mark up the tree. "I'll be damned," he muttered. "The man's mad. What went on down there I don't know about?" I didn't dare reply. I was just as amazed as Dan. Fitzhugh was behaving with remarkable co-operation. Contrary to his nature. Contrary to his opinion of our plan. Contrary to all expectations. After an eternity of waiting, Fitzhugh's head appeared over the branch, closely trailed by Mark. "Ooooof!" the fat man panted. "Welcome to the penthouse," Dan grinned, extending a hand to assist Fitzhugh. "Take a breather, men," I remarked sympathetically. "We've got one helluva job to do." Fitzhugh looked suspiciously, asked, "What?" Dan pleasured himself by pointing, saying lightly, "Nothing much except we've got to cock the hammer." "What?" Mark grinned, straddled the branch. Actually, he tried to straddle it but the branch was thicker than he was high and all he succeeded in doing was to spread his legs to an impossible width and lean forward with hands resting on the comforting solidity of the wood. "It could be dangerous, Steve. What happens if the hammer slips and the gun accidentally fires?" "We'll be blasted off the tree and be killed," Fitzhugh replied majestically, seemingly aloof to this new danger. "And you're not worried?" Dan asked him. "Of course I'm worried," the fat man declared. "I'm also worried about this hair-brained scheme to rid us of a giant. I'm against the plan but," and he shrugged nonchalantly, "a democratic vote is a binding responsibility one must strictly adhere to unless there is a desire to cut oneself off from humanity and become a hermit." I didn't believe my ears. Nor did Dan and Mark. We stared at Fitzhugh, unable to comprehend this changed attitude to our basic problems. Dan spoke for us all. "Fitzhugh - you're sick!" The man smiled. Leaving aside the fact he carried too much fat and his naturally-shifty countenance when ruminating over devious schemes for ill-gotten wealth, Alex Fitzhugh wasn't ugly. If he lost about forty pounds he could even be classified as reasonably handsome. Under other circumstances - always providing he dropped his penchant for castigating everyone with a poison-pen tongue - he could be a pleasant companion. If this new Fitzhugh was a criterion I could visualise a completely revitalised existence for us on the planet of giants. "Shall we commence tinkering?" Fitzhugh asked, all sweetness and smiles. Not wanting his mood to evaporate, I said, "Yes. We'll have to mount the butt and pull together to cock the hammer. It'll be crowded but we can manage." Mark studied the situation, head inclined, looking at the gun from every conceivable angle. Then, he announced, "It should be easier than that, Steve. Fitzhugh was right - if it accidentally fires we'd be dead ducks. Let's place the pulleys above the hammer, and to one side. We can fix a rope to both and pull from here. Then, if it should go off, we'd only get blast hitting us." We did as Mark suggested, working quickly. Daylight had begun to fade fast. The forest-park held that eerie shadowy mist that usually clings to vegetation at dusk and dawn. Under normal conditions it was a sight I appreciated - the half-light world of superstition; the mysterious moment of imagination. But not today. Today was a time for work and bustle and hope. Inch by inch we gently drew the hammer back, listening to the sharp metallic clicking noises coming from inside the gun-housing. Each click sounded like a major explosion. The rope refused to move and Mark gasped, "Hold it! I'll climb up and check if it's going to stay back." Before we could argue, he scrambled over the butt and lay between hammer and casing, testing the tension with his feet braced against the hammer. "Let go!" We slowly released the rope . and waited breathlessly. Nothing happened! Mark grinned down at us. "Okay, she's ready to fire!" "See if it's still sighted on the platform, Mark," I called. He squirmed higher on the butt, squinting along the open sights. "Near enough, Steve. We daren't move it now. If that giant stays smack in the centre of his platform we've got him." I studied the situation closely. I certainly didn't trust our ability to climb down the tree fast enough once we fired the gun. The pulleys were invaluable but more expendable than any of us. Reluctantly, I told them, "Unfasten the pulleys and let's fix the rope to the trigger." Again, Fitzhugh was first to begin working. The man was an enigma. I couldn't fathom his desire to be of utmost assistance. But I didn't worry about it - not then. Time was slipping through the glass and our sands were fast running out. Standing back, I examined the trigger fixture. It looked okay. Rope went through pulleys to the trigger mechanism and the other end dangled towards the ground. If we had fashioned our rope right the gun should fire with a minimum of effort - and the bullet find its mark. "Everybody down below," I barked. Fitzhugh took off at once. Dan smiled at his retreating back, said, "I don't get it!" He glared at Mark. "Did you have anything to do with this change?" "Not me," Mark grinned, levering himself over the branch. "I like it, though," and his head vanished from sight. "Like it or not, I'm getting the hell out of here," Dan said, taking one last look at our fantastic weapon arrangement. "Let's hope you behave, baby," he told the gun and then, he too, had gone. I didn't stay long. Just one quick panoramic view of the countryside and I was climbing down the trunk, hearing muttered oaths from below as the others got into difficulties through their haste. On the ground, Valerie played with the dangling rope. "Can I pull it, Steve?" "Try..." She put everything into the pull and achieved nothing. "I'm afraid we will all be equally guilty of killing the giant," I explained. "Let's get a good hold and, when I give the word, pull together." We strung out, Chipper getting his teeth into the trailing end as well. I checked to make absolutely sure the rope wasn't snagged.. "Pull!" The rope grew taut. I felt it start to move ... move ... our feet digging into the ground as we backed away - straining, pulling steadily. For a moment I thought we'd failed somewhere. All our pulling and still no explosion from above... Then. CRAAACK! We tumbled in a heap as the rope slid off the trigger and came slithering down the tree. The explosion sounded terrific. Flame licked in a thin-streaking line from the gun-muzzle and we could hear the whine of the bullet as it started its deadly journey. I recall thinking how our tiny ears picked up every minute noise before the shattering noise itself deafened me. "Grab the rope," I shouted, unable to hear my own voice. They hadn't heard me, either. I grasped rope and motioned for them to do likewise. Between us, we soon had the ropes bundled, coiled, split into six separate sections. Our hearing had returned by then and I told them, "Get back to the ship. We'll save the rope for later use. I don't want anyone outside when they start searching for the source of the shot." Mark, matching me stride for stride, asked, "Do you think anyone will have heard it, Steve?" "It's possible, Mark." I hefted my coil of rope, broke into a trot. "They may not have, though. Traffic noise would limit the distance the sound travelled. It would be better for us if nobody heard it but let's not count on that, eh?" Chipper barked at my heels, playfully leaping at a strand of rope flopping on my thighs. I grinned. "That's a boy, Chipper. You help too." He growled, leapt, and clung to the rope getting himself a joy- ride for several yards. Once inside the ship, we rested. Fitzhugh collapsed into his chair and promptly went asleep. Gentle snores rocked the cabin. "That man!" Dan said. Barry smiled. "He's tired, Dan. He worked awfully hard to protect us." Dan and I exchanged significant glances. Was Barry's influence with Fitzhugh paying off already? We didn't know. Until another near- disaster overtook us Fitzhugh's friendly help was open to doubt. Only when that happened would we have an inkling of Fitzhugh's generosity and companionship. "I'm going out to see what we achieved," I announced abruptly. Dan climbed wearily from his seat. "I'll come along." I was about to order him to remain but I saw the look on his face. I relented, nodded and headed for the doorway. Company was appreciated in this strange world. One never knew what dangers lurked behind every blade of grass.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

"STEVE, I hate to mention this but we should get back to making those repairs on the hydrogen cells. Mark gave a deadline for their safety..." I'd forgotten! Halting on the perimeter of our clearing, I stared at Dan. "My God! Come on - we've got to arouse them again. If anything should ever happen to the cells we can kiss good-bye to an Earthly welcome." Mark shot from his chair when we burst into the ship. "The cells!" I wanted to burst out laughing. His face was a study fit for a Sunday- supplement cartoon. He hastened round the cabin, shaking each of the others into some resemblance of liveliness. Except Fitzhugh! The fat man growled, twisted, tried to slink back into a slumberous cave. Mark shook him violently. Fitzhugh opened one eye, glared from it and declared, "Not another ounce of my energy will I spend this night," and closed it, snuggling down into the soft, deep padding. Dan bent over him. "Implosion, Fitzhugh!" Both eyes opened fast. Sleep fell from his features and he came upright. "Implosion? Now?" "Soon," Dan replied. "How about your help?" There was an infinite sadness expressed as Fitzhugh reluctantly left his seat. He walked automatically towards the door, sighing and stretching away his dream. Dan grinned, shrugged. "It still happens!" he commented. On the way to the shelter, Mark asked, "Have you checked on the result of our target practice?" "Not yet, Mark. The cells come first." "Go ahead and check, Steve," he whispered. "I have all the hands I require for this stage of the operation. A few hours more or less isn't going to matter." "You're positive?" He slapped my back. "I'd be the first to bitch if I wasn't." "I won't be long, Mark." I slipped into the familiar darkness of the forest-park, waving to his retreating shadow as I left the beaten path from ship to shelter. The slow processional tramp-tramp of their feet faded and I picked my way towards the tree-platform. When I reached it I got a shock. A leg hung down from the carefully- constructed hanging garden of leaves the giants had built around the platform. A leg that swung gently back and forth. I dived for cover, thinking the giant was about to climb from his hiding place to take a break. Weeds and damp grass slashed at me. Something slimey and long wriggled away, flicking at my thighs with its white, round hindquarters. I sighed. A worm. A gigantic, crawling worm. I watched the giant's legs, waiting for the rest of him to appear. I waited - impatiently as the time drifted past and still no sign of further movement. Finally, unable to hold back longer, I crawled from my cover and softly approached the platform. No wonder he didn't emerge! Something kept plopping from the platform to form a growing pool on the ground. One look and I knew we'd hit the target. It was blood - seeping through the rough platform of branches. The leg moved as a breeze riffled the upper foliage of the tree. It had been that I'd noticed. Nothing more. The giant was dead. And, unless the killer from security came to investigate, the assassination attempt had been stalled. E.S.P. The initials shot through my mind as I darted for cover a second time. The heavy thunder of giant feet coming near sent a shiver down my spine. Had I inadvertently communicated my thoughts through telepathetic channels to the killer? I doubted it but it did seem strange that I'd been considering the possibility just as I caught the noise of a giant coming through the forest. Two giants! Flashlights beamed on the path and they entered the area surrounding the platform-tree. ".swears he heard a shot from in here." "He's getting jumpy since he found evidence the little people were inside the building. I wonder what they want with us?" I could have told them - absolutely nothing! The giants kept flashing their lights in ever-increasing circles as they also kept moving closer, and closer to my hiding place. I knew, of course, they had nothing to do with the assassination. They were security men obeying orders - and not sure of what they were looking for until. "Look!" The flashlights coned into a single illuminating beam, concentrating on the leg hanging from the tree. "It's...it's a foot!" "Cover me! If he moves - shoot!" The flashlights separated and one moved cautiously to the tree. I saw a gun-barrel poke the dangling leg and watched it swing lifelessly. "Come here! He's dead!" The second light wavered and moved to join the other. Both probed the tree. "I can see... hey, what's that?" "Some kind of platform, I guess." "I don't like this. It's above our heads. Get back and bring reinforcements." "Hadn't you better check and make sure he's dead?" "No! He can't fake that. Anyway, I'll keep him covered with my gun. One move and I'll finish him off for good." The two lights hesitated, swinging from the dangling leg to the platform, back to the leg and all over the immediate area. Once, as they swept across the undergrowth, I found myself smashed in the eyes by both beams simultaneously. I closed my eyes, not breathing, frozen into immobility. Onward swung the lights and I slipped further down into the grass, thankful for my presence of mind and the fact that a small creature was not exactly what the giants were looking for then. "Whoever did it has gone." "And you'd better be gone, too. Hurry. I don't want to stay out here alone longer than I can help it." A light whipped round and running feet thundered ponderously off into the forest-park. I waited, wondering if it was advisable to notify the group of this latest development. I decided against any undue movement. I wanted to know exactly what reaction the giants gave. I wanted to be sure we could work undisturbed throughout the remainder of the night. There was another reason for not leaving yet. If Mark and the rest considered themselves safe from surprise they could accomplish a lot more than trying to work under circumstances similar to mounting fear. The lone giant kept humming to himself, occasionally sweeping his flashlight cone around. I guess he felt scared. I didn't blame him. Darkness covered many evils and death - once it struck - had a bad habit of returning to strike again. Unlike lightning, the killer usually returned to the scene. Mentally, I browsed through permutations of supposition and conjecture as I waited for further developments. There were so many possibilities following in the wake of the discovery of the body that I felt dizzy trying to separate them. If, for example, the security killer-giant happened to be in the building when the report reached there, he may feel it necessary to postpone the assassination attempt. He'd remarked that this was the only site where such an attempt could successfully be made. If the Security giants were aware of the platform and formulated ideas for its subsequent use then, surely, I thought, the killer must give up his grandiose scheme. On the other hand, it was entirely possible that the killer had enough authority to suspend investigation until after another plotter had carried out the death threat. Then, too - and this one bothered me most, a different officer might make the initial investigation and decide to go tramping through the forest-park in search of clues. As I ruminated over the probabilities and possibilities I saw lights weaving through the brush. There were about ten flashlights and the thud-thud of their feet made me almost sick to my stomach. The vibrations shook me where my body crushed flat on the ground. My head reeled and I lost track of their arrival overcoming a wave of nausea. Then... "...don't recognise him. There's nothing up here to identify him, either. Bring that folding ladder and help me get him down." The lights formed a circle round the tree and I could see several giants working to get the body lowered. In the light I could see the result of our shooting - a bullet-hole smack in the face. If we'd tried we couldn't have hit him in a more deadly area. Chalk one up for marksmanship. It was then I noticed the killer-giant standing on the edge of their circle. His face was a blur against the dark forest and the wavering field of brilliance but I could feel his expressionless hatred for whoever had done this. At last, they laid the dead giant on the ground and the killer stepped forward, bent to examine the body. His eyes glinted coldly, his hands working into fists - clenching and unclenching as he fought to control his emotions. "He wasn't shot at close range, anyway," the giant remarked. "Frankly, I think we're getting excited over nothing. My guess is he built this platform for a personal reason and was accidentally shot by a poacher..." Another giant wearing insignia smiled, obviously enjoying a senior's embarrassment. "A poacher using a pistol?" he asked sarcastically. "Why not?" The killer straightened, stood facing his subordinate. "Have not you ever hunted with your service pistol?" "Yes - but I'm not a professional poacher, sir." "And you have evidence, I suppose, to prove this man was killed by a professional?" The dice were being loaded against the unlucky subordinate. Our killer enemy was a master tactician. He was systematically wearing down opposition to his viewpoint. He wanted to minimise opposition - and the best weapon he commanded was his rank. "Come, come - think again! What useful purpose could this tree- platform serve? Who else but a careless amateur hunting here could have shot him? There is no evidence to suggest robbery. Nothing to associate the corpse with us. No," and he smiled benignly on his men, "I feel we should turn this case over to the local police. It is an accidental homicide - not a question of security!" The unfortunate subordinate grunted. "I've got a feeling..." "And so have I - case closed! Bring the body back to headquarters. We'll hold it for the police. Leave everything as it is. I'll personally notify those concerned to take responsibility for my actions." He nodded to the other giants, strode off without a backward glance. He had spoken. His law was not to be broken. The sullen subordinate glared after his retreating back, swung to the others, barked viciously, "You heard! Bring the body along. I'll be in my office. I want written reports from the men who found this...this..." he jabbed a finger at the corpse in disgust. "If there are any questions bring them to me." He slowly swung away and tramped off in pursuit of his chief. I felt sorry for the subordinate. He knew there was more to the killing than a mere accident yet, he was hand-tied by orders. I suspected trouble from him. He didn't look the type of man to take things lying down - always. On the face of it, he was obeying authority. Yet, somehow, his stance suggested a desire to carry on his own investigation and trust to luck he could sway his chief with new evidence. When the giants finally departed with the body, I slowly walked back to the shelter. I was confused. We'd gone to extreme lengths to remove a potential danger and now - all seemed to no avail. The killer was too powerful to be balked at the last moment. He would simply substitute one assassin for another. We faced the same difficulties we had before using the old pistol. When the assassin fired his fatal bullet we would become the innocent victims of an all-out search and political intrigue. Unless... There was a chance. If the killer was so damned powerful maybe he would stifle an investigation. Perhaps, and it was a slim chance only, he would assume greater power and call off the bloodhounds. My head was still ringing with chaotic thoughts when I stepped inside the make-shift shelter.

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

WORK stopped immediately I entered. Mark was standing directly facing me, shirt-sleeves rolled back and grease streaked across his forehead. His eyes questioned silently - but not so Fitzhugh. "Captain, may we have a report?" the fat man asked. I caught Mark's subtle shake and knew there'd been trouble in my absence. I smiled disarmingly at Fitzhugh, said, "They discovered the body. We made a perfect hit. They've taken the corpse away and, from what was said, we can expect no further action tonight." Fitzhugh beamed. "Ahhh!" Mark queried my statement with raised eyebrows. I winked. He caught my intention and relaxed, said, "That settles one matter. Now, may I have your undivided attention and let's get moving on this job?" Dan sidled close to me, whispered, "Is that actually what happened, Steve?" I countered. "What's been happening here, Dan?" Our eyes clashed. He smiled, asked, "Like that?" I nodded. "Then, for your information, friend Fitzhugh has been making rather disconcerting remarks concerning your absence. He feels it places an unbearable strain on his energy reserves to carry the work for the missing captain. Mark has had a few goddam words to say on that score but - well, you know Fitzhugh!" I did, only too well! The man was a shirker most of the time. He managed, occasionally, to carry his fair share of the load and yet, there was always a background symphony of complaint. "How far forward are we, Dan?" He shrugged casually. "Not far enough, Steve. Mark's worried. He's falling further behind schedule." "Have the cell-housings been repaired yet?" "Nope! Mark is trying desperately to extract radium from the luminous dial of the watch. He's worked like a Trojan, Steve. I feel we could repair the housing ourselves. Why don't you suggest it to Mark?" I grinned. "Why don't you?" "Because," he laughed, "Mark would blow his top! You're the captain. All decisions rest with you - eventually. Mark has authority where the repairs are concerned but he gets that authority from you, Steve. Not me!" I understood what Dan meant. We were, normally, a close-knit group trying our combined best to get off this planet. But, as with any group of people, everyone had an individualistic approach to a problem. Fitzhugh was always at odds. Valerie sometimes. Barry sided with us but, when the pressure was on, he often switched over to Fitzhugh's views. Betty, Dan, Mark and I were the backbone and tried to systemise our energies and ideas to a master plan. Even then, Mark considered the flight-worthiness of the ship his prime responsibility. And that caused certain difficulties. Like when we had to dispose of a giant! "I'll mention it to Mark," I told Dan. "Get the others going full- steam ahead." I waited until Dan circulated again, urging the passengers to do their utmost. Fitzhugh threw several side-glances in my direction but refrained from begging me to pitch in with willing hands. Mark smiled grimly as I drew him aside. "It's touch and go, Steve. We've lost a lot of time arguing." "We could lose a lot more, too," I warned him. "Things are balanced on a fine point, Mark. The giants are split down the middle. I don't think we've accomplished a damned postponement by shooting the platform watcher. Our killer is almighty in security and my guess is he'll have another marksman in position by the morning." "That's bad news, Steve." "Agreed. Look - Dan asked me to bring up the housing repairs. I feel he and I could work on them. You've got metal from the watch. I understand how cell-housings are constructed. I propose to get inside the rockets and make the strengthening repairs from there. How's that sound?" He considered the work that was progressing in complete silence. All faces showed the strain; all ears were cocked for a word or two coming from us. "It's a hazardous task, Steve. The risk of contamination inside the rocket chamber is too high for me to say yes. That decision must rest on your shoulders. And Dan's. I'm not against anything that will move the job along faster. In fact, we don't need all of us stuck in here. Alright. go ahead, providing you are fully aware of the dangers." I slapped his back and turned to the others. "Dan and I are going inside the ship to make repairs to the cell-housings. I want all the thin metal you have taken from the watch brought to the ship now. Afterwards, Mark will instruct each of you how to co-ordinate your chosen chore to a new schedule. Any questions... Fitzhugh?" The fat man smiled enigmatically. "None, captain. None at this moment." "I have, Steve..." Barry stepped forward. I hoped he hadn't been primed by Fitzhugh again. That worry soon vanished when he spoke again. "Chipper is missing. I left him inside the ship. If you see him, let me know. I'm worried." "I promise to get word to you immediately we find Chipper," I smiled. "Thanks, captain," the boy replied, swinging on Fitzhugh. "Chipper isn't just any old dog, Mr. Fitzhugh. He's just the same as us. He's lost here, too." Fitzhugh patted Barry's head and placed an arm round one of those small, lean shoulders. "I find Chipper's company stimulating, Barry. I'm sure our captain will do his best to find him." Fitzhugh stared at me. Suddenly, I felt myself drawn to the man. There was a wealth of compassion underneath the crusty exterior. Barry had helped bring this sense of humanity to the surface yet it had had to be dormant, waiting to rise prior to our arrival on this alien planet. With encouragement, Fitzhugh would make a respected member of society yet. "Fitzhugh, I guarantee that Chipper's welfare comes first," I said softly. The fat man nodded, dropped his arm from Barry's shoulder, glared at the girls, said, "Come on you're supposed to be working. Am I supposed to do it all?" Valerie laughed, bent to help Betty scrape phosphorescence off the watch dial. I could see Betty smiling as she lowered her head and began chipping away with a small chisel. "I think it's time we left them alone," Dan voiced in my ear. He bent, picked up a roll of metal that had once backed the dial, lifted it easily. "I'll get the rest across to the ship in a few minutes, Steve," Mark said. Not to be outdone, I grabbed an armful of sheeting, staggered off with it. I hoped Chipper wasn't trapped in an inaccessible part of the ship. We were deadlined and every delay meant upping the risk of losing the ship. Usually, the dog stuck pretty near Barry but, as he had said, he'd left the animal inside the ship. I could only figure Barry had a reason for parting company with his faithful companion. They were closer than the Gemini twins in heaven. Dan waited for me just inside the ship. His face expressed grave doubts as he gestured hopelessly with spread hands. "Not here, Steve. I've called him but no answer. Not a bark even." I didn't want to mention my own fears. The sensation had been growing steadily - Chipper was definitely on the missing list. "We'll get this stuff down into the rocket chamber before making a detailed inventory of the ship, Dan. He could be sleeping in a quiet corner..." "Unlikely. Very unlikely. Barry came over here just before you returned and he couldn't find him." The nagging sensation strengthened. Why was it everything seemed to go wrong all at once? First, the would-be assassination. Then, the implosive factor of the hydrogen cells. Now, Chipper. "We've got to find him, Dan. Not just because of Barry. That dog has become a symbol of what we left behind on Earth. He's our contact with reality." Dan nodded thoughtfully, opening the hatch that led to an under-deck network of service tunnels. "If the dog has gone we could face a female mutiny. Betty and Valerie won't work while Chipper is missing. They haven't the same dedicated desire to save the ship regardless of personal loss." "Do you, Dan? "I asked. His face lifted and he stared at me from inside the tunnel. "In this case - I'm with them," he smiled. "I'd like to make it home but not if..." His pause gave me time to reflect. I knew what he meant. All or nothing! Chipper included. I felt better already. My companions would stand out in any crowd of humans. Animal lovers de luxe ... or was it just that they, like myself, accepted Chipper as a fellow-wanderer in space? I grunted, handed the metal roll and my sheeting down through the hatch. It was dark inside the tunnel - dark and dismal. When the ship was in regular service this sector could be red-hot but inactivity and lack of power had left it colder than in the cabins. Dan was already crawling towards the rocket chamber and I eased through the hatch, pushing the sheeting ahead of me, cursing when it snagged, sweating all the while in the confined space. Suddenly, Dan halted. I bumped into his feet. "Steve ... this is worse than Mark thought," his voice called. "How?" "Acid pools..." My blood chilled. Acid leaking from the cells spelt big, big trouble. If the loss was high we could find ourselves without power - eternally. The only course open to us was - plunge ahead and stem the acid flow. "Can you walk through it, Dan?" He shuffled forward a few feet then, "I think so. Watch it when you come to the chamber entrance, though. There's a helluva pool. I almost flopped into it myself." "Get any on you?" I asked quickly. "No, Steve. Luckily I spotted the shimmer on the surface. I can never figure why they don't put strip lighting inside service tunnels. A guy could find himself in a nasty predicament in the dark." I agreed with him. I'd have to suggest this improvement to Mark. If he ever got back home he could instruct his engineers to provide better lighting facilities for service men. The acid seepage was bad. I side-stepped the pool Dan had mentioned and stood upright inside the propulsion chamber. The muzzles of the rockets bored right through the vaulted chamber and, to one side, the shielding of the nuclear power plant formed an impenetrable barrier. Opposite this, safeguarded by a thin layer of metal, the hydrogen cells resided within a trough the length of the chamber. One end of this trough had broken apart and acid trickled from it - forming rivers and placid pools on the deck. "The interconnecting pipes haven't corroded yet," Dan said, pointing to the tubular corrugations stretched across the deck. I whistled. "It won't be long before they do, Dan. God, this is a stinking mess." My hands moved swiftly over the outside shell. I could feel the rivets holding the plates, the little cables carrying electrical wires, the channels where, usually, exhaust gases filtered from the chamber. I touched a projection and began twisting the stopcock, feeling it turn. slowly. I could hear Dan grunting further along the hull as he, too, sought to open the run-off valve to let the excess acid spill onto the ground outside. The fumes in the rocket chamber were overpowering and it was all I could do to keep twisting the stopcock. My lungs ached for fresh air, my eyes watered as the stinging, acrid fumes rose in sickening waves. The steady rush of acid into the exit channel gave me new life. Dan sighed and I heard the extra shish of acid flowing from his exit, too. "Get the rear panel off, Steve," he gasped. "I'll start on this side...." He hurried towards the metallic panel that separated the chamber from the propulsion bay. We worked fast and furious, fumbling with the lever-releases. Finally, the panel slipped outwards and cold air gushed into the chamber. A faint gleam of light filtered through the rocket-exhaust grill and we saw the full extent of the damage clearly then. "That's the one we've got to repair first," I said, indicating the trough break. Dan was already working along the hydrogen cells, checking each, trying to ascertain which had leaked the worst. His face grew tense and, when he reached the trough break, he turned, said, "Three out of ten need fixing, Steve!" "How are the levels?" "Almost zero on each. Indicators read danger - but that's not all..." I stared at him. "What else?" "Radium dangerous in the same three!" My eyes smarted and I could barely make out the radium dials but I wiped tears away and peered. He was correct. All three cells showed minimum radium levels. I hoped Mark appreciated this fact. "Dare we start making repairs to the cells before Mark has refilled the radium activators?" Dan asked. "Truthfully - I don't know," I told him. "And what about Chipper?" I wanted to scream. Things had snowballed on me. Chipper was important but could we now stop the vital repairs to spend valuable time searching for the dog? "You go look for Chipper, Dan. I'll start wrapping this sheeting round the trough. While you're up top - fetch back a hammer and wrench. We're going to need Mark, too. Better inform him how serious the situation is. He waved, said, "Don't stay down too long, Steve. The fumes..." "I'll be okay. Just you find the dog." I didn't wait for him to leave. I was placing a sheet of metal against the trough and Dan was forgotten already. I couldn't see how I'd manage to fit the sheeting round the trough without having a hammer but I was determined to make every effort possible. The ship was in grave danger. I'd worked solidly for half an hour when I heard Dan's voice calling from the service tunnel. "Steve... Steve... you okay?" "Yeah, Dan. I'm still in here." He entered the chamber, grinning and carrying a heavy bag. I stopped working and wiped sweat from my face. I felt sticky and my clothes adhered like glue. "Chipper?" "Sleeping, of all places, inside the control cabin. Barry found him. They all insisted on coming back to the ship to search for their dog." He laughed. "When we get back to Earth there's going to be some frustrated people. Every darned one of them wants Chipper - and Barry. Even Fitzhugh. I suspect he would willingly marry Valerie to get Barry legally adopted - to say nothing of getting his hands on her fortune, too!" I sighed deeply. Chipper found was a relief. The dog had been a worry and had helped to slow me down in Dan's absence. My brain was tired and the pressure of constantly living in danger was beginning to take its toll. "Did you tell Mark?" "Yes." He dropped the heavy bag and leant against the nuclear shield. I waited, and when he didn't speak I asked in slight annoyance, "So what did he say?" "Not to worry. He's quite aware of the danger. The readings we get are altered ones. Mark deliberately changed the dials to confound Fitzhugh supposing the crook came down here to check." That was a relief. But a small one. I pointed at the trough. The sheeting was wrapped around the break and not a drop of acid now seeped from it. "Hammer that tight round the old trough, Dan. I'm bushed." I held out my hands. Broken skin showed raw flesh beneath where I'd slaved to curve the metal by sheer strength alone. "I'll go up top and salve these. When we start mucking about with the cells they'll feel the acid more in this state." His eyes showed compassion. "Don't hurry, Steve. I'll be a while." "Promise me you won't touch the cells until I come back, Dan." "I promise, Steve - I'm not an idiot." I laughed harshly. "No, that you are not but," and I shrugged, "you could try to be heroic and think you were saving me from added torture." He didn't answer. Instead, the hammer rang joyously against metal and his back covered whatever his thinking could show on that dark face. I hurried. Dan's promise was one he would cheerfully break. If our positions had been reversed I'd have promised anything to make him take a break and have his hands attended to. The first-aid kit hung in a bracket inside the control cabin. I detached it and began searching for the salve when the ship began to rock. I knew immediately what had caused the rocking and ran to the forward window. My vision was almost totally blocked by a huge foot. Beyond this another foot came into sight. I froze, expecting the worst - discovery. Then, I noted that the feet were turned away from the ship. Whichever giant stood outside, his attention was definitely not on the ship. I listened. The noise of Dan's hammering sounded faint in the cabin but we'd removed the panel leading to the propulsion area and the noise was free to travel from there through the open-work grills. If the giant heard Dan's hammer... The nearest foot moved, began to turn its toes in our direction. I prayed right then that he hadn't heard anything peculiar. Through the window I saw the foot brush against the ship before it lifted out of sight. I watched with bated breath as the second foot soared above us and then ... just the heavy, ponderous thud-thud as the giant walked away from us. It was only at that moment I realised it was daylight outside. This was the day of the assassination attempt. Had the giant been aware of this? Was it the killer roaming the forest-park? Was it the assassin? Or could it be one of the security men - the subordinate? - carrying out an investigation? Too many questions without answers. I wanted to know what was happening. It was vital we all know. I quickly rubbed salve into the raw flesh, found a pair of gloves and slipped them on. They rubbed against the flesh at first and I was sorely tempted to peel them off. I didn't. It would be much worse without them. Dan glanced round from the housing of one cell as I stepped into the chamber. He grinned, said, "Sorry, Steve - I finished the other chore." I wasn't sore at him for breaking a promise. I didn't even let him finish making excuses. I could see the acid trough was repaired, and, if he wanted to continue working alone, that, too, was perfectly alright with me now. A giant almost flattened the ship," I said. "I'm going to check on what they're doing." "You do that, Steve. Those hands of yours need a rest." He placed both his palms against the cell, added, "It's not hot yet. I can handle it alone." I smiled although there was nothing humorous in what he'd said. "If it gets hot, Dan - run like hell." "If it gets hot, Steve - I won't have much time for running." He frowned. "Ask Mark if he can spare some of that radium he has. There's another cell showing signs of falling level." "Four of them!" "Four!" he replied. "It never seems to get better for us, does it, Steve?" "Never," I agreed. "I'll tell Mark. Take care, Dan." He waved as I turned into the service tunnel. I didn't know then how close I'd come to never seeing him again...

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

IF the night had a thousand devils chasing shadows the day had more than enough giants prowling around to make the comforting darkness welcome. That's how I felt after passing Dan's message along to a distraught Mark. Things inside the shelter had not been progressing at an even pitch. They, too, had suffered from giant-sized interruptions. Valerie was now doing duty outside, ready to pass warnings if giants appeared. And, Fitzhugh had worked himself into a coma. He was sleeping off a fantastic drain of energy. Mark spoke of the man's efforts with pride. Mark, himself, was suffering from lack of sleep - as were Betty and Barry. The boy refused to take a single break and Betty, bless her heart, had toiled to keep all their spirits high as she helped prepare the crude phosphorous. But the end of their co-ordinated work was at hand. They simply couldn't continue without sleep. In fact, before leaving Mark, I'd voiced the opinion that they would only botch the job if they tried to keep going. Mark, never one to quit, had mumbled something about hidden reserves of strength but even he had to reach an end of cohesive ability. I was dissatisfied with what was happening. Everybody wanted to do all they could yet the feeling was growing within me that they would only wind up being frustrated, quarrelsome and slipshod. And that could be as disastrous as having the ship implode. The forest-park teemed with wildlife today. I heard the aroused chirrupings of birds high in the trees. That presented another danger of walking about in daylight. To the birds in this alien land we were tasty morsels - not any larger than mice on Earth to an owl. Constant vigilance was needed - from ground-level to the soaring tips of the gigantic trees. Everything here was potentially our enemy. We had no friends - except, perhaps, the long green grass which provided cover against our multitude of foes. A chattering squirrel flipped its fantastically huge tail and bounded past me, pausing inquisitively to inspect this moving creature. It towered over me - furry monster of unfriendliness. I waved my arms, shouted, and, I suspect, gave the dumb animal a laugh. It flicked its majestic tail, winked several times and, chattering anew took off out of sight. The platform-tree was within hailing distance now and I crept forward, conscious of a sensation of being watched. I let it slip, thinking the watcher was a bird perched on a high branch. The tree seemed deserted, the platform as it had been the night before - empty, a scene of recent death. Not far distant, giants moved - their heavy feet making the ground tremble. I found myself wondering why they had chosen this day to infiltrate the park. Normally, we got one or two visitors a week but from the sounds, there were about ten giants moving around. Then, I realised what was happening. The man chosen as an assassination target was due to arrive at security headquarters today. Naturally, security would go through the motions of protection. But our killer would make good and sure the trees would not become a focal point of over-zealous guards. As I thought it I felt a sudden rush of air and saw gigantic fingers sweeping along the ground, brushing aside grass and weed as they came racing towards me. I leapt to my feet and started running. The feeling of eyes boring into my back had intensified and I stumbled through the undergrowth - hoping against hope the giant would lose sight of me. Fingers smelling of grass wrapped around me and I was lifted - bodily, into the air. My ears pounded as I was swept upwards . upwards . until, suddenly, I was staring at a pair of quizzical, laughing orbs. They were enormous eyes. Giant eyes. And the face stretching up and below my level was . very familiar! Sound blasted me as the giant chuckled. Hot, fetid breath beat me to a pulp as he spoke. "At last! I thought I'd find you. oh, does my voice hurt your small ears?" He held me tighter, enjoying the look of pain on my face. "Do my fingers squeeze you too tightly?" Laughter gusted in terrific roars from him as, thankfully, he held me out beyond the danger range of shattered eardrums. I couldn't move. My arms were hard against my sides, my feet swinging free below this small finger. Anger clouded his face now and he growled, "How did you manage to kill my man?" I squirmed but he squeezed harder, almost cutting me in two. "Answer me!" he roared. I yelled, "Let go!" He frowned, bent forward, spoke below his clenched hand. "Speak again." "Let go, you ape!" His head cocked and I was staring into his ear. "Repeat that!" he said. I took a deep breath, shouted, "Let go!" He swung me outwards, gazed at my face in perplexity. "You can hear me but I can't understand a word you say. We'll have to get an amplifier to make you speak up." He grinned evilly. "I'll enjoy that - after we take care of." He broke off, glanced into the forest-park, brows beetling furiously. His hand moved swiftly, and, with a quick flip, I felt myself thrust into a pocket and sent tumbling into its dark, cloying depths. Sound was fuzzy and muffled through the cloth but I could still hear the crashing approach of another giant feel the sudden, jerky movements of my captor. "Wait.oh, sorry, sir! I thought." "Didn't I give you orders not to come near this tree?" roared my jailer. "Er.yes, sir." "Then what are you doing here?" "I heard a noise, sir. You also said we were to make absolutely sure nobody got close to headquarters today." "Ah, yes. I did. Alright, man - you can go now." "Yes.are you coming, sir?" "Not immediately." "Yes, sir. Sorry, sir." The footsteps retreated - fast. I probed the bottom of the pocket, trying to find a weakness between cloth and thread. None existed. I felt the giant's hand pat the outside of the pocket, checking to make sure I was still trapped. The pat could have been gentle for one his size but it almost killed me. I'd once been slammed by a hurricane- blown door. It felt exactly the same. All the air whooshed from my body and I dropped insensible to the bottom of his pocket. Time means nothing to the semi-conscious man. I knew I was slowly suffocating inside the airless pocket yet I couldn't force myself to move. Every bone, every muscle screamed its protestations when I tried to open my eyes and I relaxed, content to let what was happening continue to happen. My giant strutted back and forth, short journeys that rocked and jarred me back to full consciousness. Sweat dripped from me and every mouthful of air was a tortured gulping of nitrogen that did little to satisfy my craving for oxygen. I had to have air. My fingers tightened round a pocket-knife I always carried and I jabbed - feeling the heavy cloth resist. I wanted to scream as my head started pounding, my body sagging. I forced myself to jab and stab at the pocket material until, when my strength seemed unable to continue the battle, a tiny pin-prick of light lit my dark prison. Air filtered through the minute hole and I gulped it greedily. The knife worked slowly, back and forth, from side to side, up and down - always enlarging the hole, working steadily as a sweet flow of air enveloped me. Funny how I knew exactly what the giant was doing. His every motion translated inside my brain to short walks, hurried gestures of impatience and pauses for reflection on gigantic problems. When I had finally ripped a hole large enough for me to squeeze through I poked my head out. I had to smile inwardly. The giant was padding like a captured lion - around and around the tree, swinging his arms in wild, angry sweeps as he paused to gaze into the forest- park. By straining, I could just peer upwards and see his face - a frowning black mass of hate below those beetling brows. Once, I caught the swift rush of his hand in time to duck back into his pocket before he patted it. I felt the terrific concussion press me against his hip and the breath whooshed from me a second time. I had to escape. I couldn't take much more of this battering. Yet, how could I? It was a long way down from his pocket and even supposing I could fashion a tiny parachute the giant was bound to notice me. I had a problem. King-sized. Almost giant-sized. Recovering from the second beating, I peered outside again. The giant stood perfectly still now, crouched under the tree. I heard the thunder of an approaching pair of heavy feet and then. "Where have you been?" A second booming voice thundered. "I got delayed by the traffic. And having your men stationed all around the park didn't help, either. They nearly spotted me." "Have you brought the rifle?" "Certainly. Inside this case." "Open it. I want to make absolutely certain that nothing else will go wrong." I heard the bang of wood against stone and then, I felt as though I'd gone over a roller-coaster bump. Sick sensation in the stomach, falling . falling, jerking to a halt with breaking speed. I pulled myself off the cloth and crawled to the hole. The ground was closer and, just below, a huge clump of grass and flower formed a perfect landing area. I couldn't see the second giant and reckoned now was my chance to make a jump for it. I squeezed through the hole, clinging to the ruptured cloth. I dangled, looking down, checking - and, with a grim prayer, let go. My feet crashed through the flower's petals, my hands aching as I felt the stalk rubbing my raw flesh even through the gloves. My feet smashed leaves aside and, suddenly, I crumpled as the springy grass took the initial shock and coiled under my weight. I grinned. I hadn't even twisted an ankle. I was safely down and the recoiling grass was raising me above the ground - safe and snug and unscathed. I could see the two giants now in all their fantastic girth. They bent over an open case, intent on the rifle which the newcomer was fitting together. I knew the type. A sniper's rifle which broke down into easily transportable parts, but, when assembled, was as deadly as anything a front-line soldier carries, More in fact. My bottom slid down the gentle grass and I reached ground level. Before my feet actually touched firm soil I was going through the motions of running and sped into the enveloping grass, ploughing a small furrow as I veered away from our normal path. I didn't want the giant locating us because I was scared enough to head straight for home. If he had a scent for me then I'd take him a merry dance before finally losing him. It seemed ages before I heard the roar. I grinned, urged my legs to pump faster. My escape was known. How far had I travelled? Was it far in giant distance? Could he simply take a few long strides and grab me as I ran? My ribs hurt from the after-effects of his playful-type pats. Breathing was sheer agony now and I was forced to slow my pace . forced to seek a hiding place as the thunder of his feet shook the earth so violently I could hardly stand erect. Branches crashed to the ground as he charged recklessly through the brush. I heard his agitated panting and then. silence. Strained, deathly silence. I waited, the frustration of not knowing burning me up with curiosity. I wanted to creep outside from under the tangled roots of the old tree where I'd found my secluded cave. I didn't . and thank goodness I'd had the patience to stay hidden. I suddenly heard an explosive rasp of air coming from giant lips. I felt the exhalation brush past me and the sickening smell of fetid breath was his. He'd been outside - waiting. Probably kneeling if the force of exhaled air was a criterion. Did he suspect I was close to him? I moved slowly forward and peered through the moss-covered tangle of roots. He was on hands and knees head twisting back and forth, searching the grass for me. He didn't know! That was my first joyful thought. He'd chosen my doorstep accidentally. Suddenly, he chuckled. It sounded like the death peal of bells. Every alternating intonation of his demonic chuckle sent shivers down my spine. His intentions were filled with evil and we were his prospective victims. I heard the sharp metallic click and edged forward for a better view. If he had tried shooting bullets along the grass it would not have surprised me. But he wasn't interested in using his gun. Flame sprang from a huge lighter and, as I watched in utter fascination, he brought the flame down . down until it touched the grass. He waved it back and forth, blowing great gusts of stale air on the flame . fanning it into fire. He was a maniac. Surely he knew that a fire here would eventually reach his tree-platform and consume the hidden marksman. Surely he wasn't so intensely hostile towards us that he would risk his grand scheme to revenge my escape. Smoke curled from the burning grass and he continued to breathe hate on the spreading flames. Crackling twigs joined in now and, with a swiftness that startled him, the entire area burst into soaring flames. He jerked erect, still chuckling and stepped over the blaze out of my sight. I wanted to cough. Smoke trailed between the twisted, gnarled roots and surrounded me with tenuous tendrils. I had to move fast or be caught at the centre of the conflagration. My feet got hot as I stepped gingerly across the charred grass, trying to follow the noise of his feet as he seven-leagued through the dense undergrowth. The heat of the growing fire lashed at me and, for one terror-filled moment, I almost believed I was completely surrounded by flames. I wasn't. A gap beckoned and I plunged through it, thankful for his haste and the trampled grass that had refused to ignite. Smoke billowed and, caught on a breeze, belched in angry puffs between the soaring trees. Birds added the sound of excited chittering to the crackle of the fire, and somewhere beyond my immediate area of influence, small creatures began a migration from the fire-path. I was running blind now. Direction meant nothing in the confusion. The feeling of being completely lost persisted as I stumbled through thicker grass interleaved with twisted creeper. Not one landmark was recognisable and I began to worry about the ship - and the others. If, as I had estimated, the fire was sweeping towards the tree- platform it must also be dangerously close to our encampment. Some captain I was! Separated from my command, cut-off from contact - direct or indirect - and, on top of that, a babe in a wood, lost and getting madder all the while. A chipmunk darted past, squealing angrily at me for getting in his path. That settled it in my mind. The fire was out of control. The ship was definitely in danger. I had to find a way back to it. Probably there was nothing I could do to save it being burnt to a cinder but I had a duty to try. I couldn't let this planet beat me. Not now. Not ever. I selected a tree and started climbing. My hands hurt through the gloves but I soldiered on - up.up. above the smoke. Out . onto a branch and, squatting, I began a survey of the region. I grinned. I'd circled the tree-platform. Three gigantic oaks away, the platform visible as the inhabitant pulled aside his curtain of leaves to assess the approaching fire, stood the assassin's den. The fire was swirling in vicious arms away from where the ship stood. Long, narrow fingers of smoke wreathed into the trees but, from above, it wasn't anything disastrous. Simply a grass-fire. Nothing to cause undue worry to the giants. Security wouldn't even bother to alert themselves. The fire department would smile and shrug off the eddies of smoke as a normal prank set by giant-children or a careless smoker. Yet, for us, the fire could still be a major calamity. We could not rise above its lower billows and smoke suffocation was not something I wanted to die from. If we climbed trees we could avoid the smoke but we had a stake in the ship. A sudden change of wind and the ship would be a blazing inferno. If the nuclear reactor and the hydrogen cells ignited that would be the final blow. I didn't like to contemplate building a new ship but, providing the power source existed, it was feasible to construct a hull. Feasible, but highly improbable. I slithered down the tree and, like an arrow, headed straight for the shelter. "Steve! What the hell is happening? Who started the fire?" I winked at Dan, glanced at the work-benches Mark had fitted inside the shelter. Parts of the dismantled watch littered the bench nearest and a coiled spring occupied the entire second bench. Fitzhugh laboured without once stopping to glance at me, hands artistically fashioning metal into elongated strips suitable for cell-dividers. "Before I fill you in, Dan - how is the work progressing?" He grinned, waved at the shelter interior. "All cells operating perfectly. The acid seepage has been halted. Fitzhugh is making several spares in case we should have another failure. Mark is willing to test power but I held him back until you arrived." I felt fifty years younger - which made me less than a twinkle in any eye. "Where is Mark?" "Sleeping in the ship." "Okay. Let's all get to the ship. Fitzhugh." The fat man stopped working with the metal, glared at me. "Yes?" "To the ship!" "To hell!" he retorted caustically. "Where have you been, captain? I understood that we would all pull our weight. I believe that I was suspected of not giving enough to the group. But where have you been while we slaved over the repairs?" I spoke slowly, softly. "If you'll come with us you'll hear all about my adventures. You've got a legitimate right to feel annoyed. Without knowing the details I suppose I'd be inclined to let off steam when an idle hand appeared after the work had been finished." He snorted disgustedly and dropped the metal strips. His face showed he would be hard to convince but I had no worries on that score. I knew even Alexander Fitzhugh would become pliant after hearing of my escapade with the giant. When I finished telling them the story I sat back and surveyed the cabin. We had gathered inside the passenger lounge and every face seemed strangely relaxed. I'd expected tensing of muscles, frowns of worry. But no. Just an inner contentment and attentiveness as I spoke now reflected in complete relaxation. "Something has happened here," I accused. "What?" Mark smiled and stretched weary legs. "We're almost ready to attempt a return journey, Steve." I stared at him, noting the smiles on every face as I had at last been told. This is why my brush with the giant had gone over without the usual frightened look, I thought. "You're sure, Mark?" "Almost," he replied nonchalantly. "We need a power test first. When I see how she reacts to booster-propulsion I'll be able to say definitely - or not!" "And you'd like to test her when?" "The second you and Dan feel like taking the controls!" The cabin was very silent as each held his breath waiting for my answer. Mark had placed the baby in my lap. I alone could decide what to do. The ultimate decisions always rested on the captain's shoulders. I knew the dangers. If one tiny slip had been made the ship could be damaged beyond repair. If the hydrogen cells leaked in flight there would not only be no more ship - they could kiss good- bye to life. Slowly, I climbed to my feet and walked toward the door. Before I stepped outside into the smoke-wreathed air I said, "Let me think about it for a few minutes, Mark. I don't want to jump into anything." "Do that, Steve. But, when you're thinking, remember this - I sincerely believe the ship is space-worthy. I've checked and double- checked the power plant. Nowhere can I find the slightest thing to suggest we cannot make Earth safely. Yet, I can't positively state that this is so without a brief test flight. You and Dan are the pilots. You know how the ship handles under all circumstances. If we test her and you say she's not completely ready for the journey then there's nothing else to do but keep working until she is one hundred per cent fit." I smiled at him. "Thanks, Mark. I'll give you my answer in a minute or two. You understand - I'd like to weigh the pro's and con's in private." "I understand, Steve," he replied sympathetically. There was no further exchange between them and me. I stepped down onto the grass and walked towards the brush beyond the ship. I couldn't help wondering how this could affect the assassination attempt. If the ship had not been repaired we would still be battling to prevent the marksman from firing his sniper's rifle. That would have been imperative. Now, it looked like security was the least of our worries. And a giant was going to walk into a trap just because we had no further cause to protect his life!

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CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Dan cleared his throat and asked, "You're sure this is the best way, Steve?" I inclined my head, busily checking the instruments. "Don't you?" He hesitated. His hands moved swiftly across the banks of power switches, opening some, closing others preparatory to inducing the rockets to belch forth their thrusting comet of fire. Lights winked and blinked and, seated behind us, strapped to his chair, Mark held himself in readiness for blast-off. "Dan?" I questioned again. "Hell, Steve, how can I answer? I suppose you're right but all I can think about is the glowing orb of Mother Earth. What is right or wrong here isn't of paramount importance to me." I glanced at Mark. He shrugged, stayed strangely silent. "Look, I made my decision to give the ship a thorough testing. I also found I was unable to leave without one final try." Dan grunted, circuiting power into my controls now. "To save a giant, Steve, is an admirable desire. Especially one we have no reason to believe would lift a finger to assist us." He made it sound like a string of obscenities. He was riled, angered by my bold decision to prevent the assassination at all costs short of endangering the ship. When I'd announced this I had been greeted with an explosion from Fitzhugh - as expected. But I hadn't expected the reaction of the others. Not one voice had raised in support of my plan. Not one cared enough for a single giant to risk time and limb. I, personally, felt indebted to the unknown victim of the dastardly assassination plot. Without him we would not have gotten the watch from which we had managed to repair the hydrogen cells. We would not have seen co- ordinated work that had saved the ship from implosion. I felt we owed the giant that much. More - I felt we had a duty to save his life. "Dan, if you disagree so strongly, don't sit next to me. I want someone I can trust to act in a responsible fashion. There'll be enough to do when the time comes without having to worry whether or not you're going to obey my every order." He grinned and presented me with circled finger and thumb. "I disagree, Steve - but I have never disobeyed an order in my life. The day will come when I, too, have command of a ship. I'd like to think my co-pilot would obey unquestioningly." Ignoring the obvious statement of gratitude I carried on checking the controls. Power vibrated throughout the ship. All that was required now was for me to command Dan to open the throttles. "Let's have power, Dan!" "Good luck, Steve," Mark's voice said softly from behind. Dan's hands eased the throttles back and a dull-throated roar surged from the rockets. I could imagine the scene outside - the leaves burning as flames erupted from the ship's stern, a gentle lift-off and, moving forward at a slow speed, the grass flattening under the gusting rush of exhaust. "She's responding beautifully, Steve." I glanced quickly at Dan. His face was a mass of smile. His eyes twinkled as the thrill of handling the ship in flight surged through him again. "This is it," I shouted and, sweeping my hands along the twin banks of levers attached to the dual control sticks, I gave her everything. Vibrations ebbed down the hull and the ship rose on a column of blasting flame. Rose . gently, effortlessly . rose above the clearing and the shelter into the gigantic trees. "We made it!" Dan yelled triumphantly. Through the forward window I watched the trees blossom into fantastic mushrooms of intertwined leaves and branches. It was weird seeing them on a level. For a long while we'd gazed upward at the almost hidden tops and wondered how it would feel to be on a par with the foliage there. Now we could sense power flowing through ship and body. We were little people - but powerful little people. The giant kingdom was about to be conquered. "Seems like you called the tune, Mark," I grinned. Mark had removed his straps and stood at my shoulder. The ship skipped over the foliage with an ease that was unbelievable after so many months of grounding. "But will she be capable of blasting away from the strong gravitational pull of this huge planet?" Mark asked softly. My nerves screamed. He was correct - the real test would come when I pointed her nose at the sky and tried to overcome the gravity attraction. It was like asking a stone to suddenly rise and shoot into space from an Earth-type mass. "If the rockets function perfectly there's no valid reason for assuming she won't make it," Dan replied with more hope than logic. Mark patted his back. "Keep believing that, Dan. I've always thought that positive waves gave positive results." Dan grunted. "Engineering ability you may have but let's not step into the realms of supernatural and E.S.P." "Is there a division?" Mark asked. I silenced them. The ship zoomed across the first open space. Dead ahead of us the complex of security reared high over the ship. Our altimeter showed us at three thousand feet yet, according to a visual reading we had not yet reached a height beyond the third floor windows of security. "How's our fuel situation, Dan?" He rose and stood before the computer. I heard the deft switching as he operated the machine. Then, "Not knowing how far we are from Earth I'd hate to make an estimate. The tanks are reading two-thirds and the nuclear pile is fast building to full power load." I brought the ship to run along the wide ribbon of road below. In the distance, I could see a motorcade approaching security headquarters. "There they are," I remarked. Dan and Mark crowded close, gazing down at the ponderously moving cars. Even at this height, the giants lining the procession route were huge. We saw them standing stiffly to attention and, in groups around security, the heavily-armed guards waited for their very important visitor to arrive. "How about it?" Mark opened his mouth, closed it and returned to his chair. Dan gulped, nodded, quickly seated himself and grasped his controls in anticipation. My hand closed round the intercom and I opened the switch. "We are directly over the motorcade now," I informed the passengers. "Make absolutely certain you are securely strapped into your seats. I can't tell what reaction we'll get when I buzz them. It could be we'll become a target for every gun or they may just be too startled to shoot." Dan's hand closed the switch. "Tell them no matter what happens Mark and I agree it's got to be done." I cleared the line and spoke again, feeling a glow of comfort flooding my heart. Dan disagreed with me yet, when the chips were down, he wanted everyone else to know - he was not going to object. More. He was wholeheartedly throwing himself into the hair-brained scheme. "It should be of interest to hear that Dan and Mark are in accord with me on the procedure. I would like to think that all of you shared the same opinion before I begin." Betty's voice came over the loudspeaker. "We're with you, Steve. Go ahead." Dan grinned and held out his dark hand. I shook it, feeling the gently pressure reassure me of his loyalty. "Grab your seats - here we go!" I shouted and, dropping the communicator, shoved the controls forward. The road blurred as power surged from the rocket-thrusters. The ship speared down . straight for the first car in the caravan. I could see amazed eyes lifting to fix us in focus and then, we were swinging over the car, zooming upwards across the low fronts of bungalow-type homes. I circled, aimed for the procession and sent the ship into a screaming dive - again concentrating on the leading car. I wanted to halt the procession. I had to stop it if my scheme was to work. Angry flames spurted from a dozen guns as the security guards opened- fire on us. I wasn't unduly worried about them. Our size made us an extremely difficult target - almost akin to using a high-powered rifle to hit a swiftly-darting sparrow on Earth. And, as any rifleman knows, that is a near impossibility. A one in a million chance, to be exact. I slowed the ship and cut across the car, almost mis-timing the manoeuvre. I could see the huge, onrushing hulk of the sleek car scrape past the window and then, up again, zooming round for another pass. Tracer bullets cut a fiery path through the sky and gave us a fantastic display to watch. None came close but they were a distraction. I concentrated on the speeding cars. Now they were weaving and tearing along at greater speed. I started to smile as the front-running car sped past security. Perhaps I had succeeded without resorting to the final part of the plan. My smile faded as the car swung, backed, shot forward again. I could see what they were going to do now. The other cars were forming a triple ranked counter to my manoeuvres and the one holding the potential victim had reached its destination. The ship groaned as I sent it into a tight turn. I aimed, gave her thrust, and arrowed down. "Steve... no more! She's giving out!" Mark's voice knifed through my mind. Giving out! The test was negative. But... Figures climbed from the car and darted towards security's door. I could make out the face of each and my blood froze as I recognised the killer and his intended victim. Everything depended on me now. I was sure that even this unscheduled interruption would not save the man-giant. The ship was juddering violently as power ebbed disastrously. I had to fight to keep her on target but as I set the nose down to make my final approach, I saw the killer suddenly stop and grab his victim. The tableau etched itself on my memory. There was the innocent giant held with his back facing the tree-platform as the vicious killer smiled enigmatically from the safety of the victim's bulk. This was the moment! The ship was nearly out of control but I had to safeguard our shelter. We were doomed to stay on this planet and my intentions were to land in the same clearing again - after I saved the giant. Bullets ripped across the window but I held the ship steady. Faces blurred as we sped past them and then, with a horrified look over his victim's shoulder, the security killer suddenly realised that he would be smashed by us if he didn't move. Like a snake, the killer uncoiled from behind his comrade and leapt for safety. At the same moment, his sudden lunge sent the other giant off-balance... The rocket flames seared them as I hauled the ship out of her dive. There was no time for another pass. The ship had taken all it could stand and the throb of power was little more than a purr of objection as I sent her gliding towards the forest-park again.

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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

MARK stripped the power plant and announced after an initial examination, "She needs major overhauling. We've got to get further supplies of higher grade radium and thicker metals for the housings" Fitzhugh sighed. For once, he had held back his sarcasm and ever since the abortive attempt to depart this land of the giants, he had been remarkably affable. "There is no danger now. I insist we catch up on lost sleep. Later - in a few days perhaps - we can begin making new exploratory journeys to find a source of radium." Dan laughed and teased Chipper with a rag. The dog loved it and snarled happily as he clamped small teeth into the rag, swinging back and fourth as he worried it. Rain sounded like rolling thunder as it fell on the clearing. I was glad we'd been able to move the ship back under its canopy of leaves. We knew, too, that should the occasion arise in future, we had enough power left to make one small, low-level flight. That gave us hope. And a certain amount of confidence. "Did you see what actually happened, Steve?" I faced Betty. "No - and I haven't asked, either." "You should know..." I grimaced painfully. "I'm aware that my scheme didn't pay off. All I'm thankful for is the fact that we worried over nothing. No search for the assassin. No giants prowling the forests looking for little people." She laughed. "Only because the wrong giant was murdered." I stared at her. "What.?" Silence descended over the ship. When we'd crash-landed in the clearing I'd made it plain that we would not speak again about the wacky plan to prevent an assassination. I'd naturally assumed that after we passed over the marksman had been given an adequate target. Betty steepled her hands and smiled wistfully at me over the fingertips. "The killer was killed, Steve. Your friendly giant didn't get shot." "Then..." "That's right," she replied fast. "When he was thrown off balance that was the precise moment the sniper fired. I watched it all from the port viewer." "You could have told me." I accused. "Like heck," she snorted. "Your orders stated categorically that none of us were to mention the shooting episode." "And why have you mentioned it?" "Because Fitzhugh is right, We can sleep in peace - free from all interruptions. I also wanted to stop you from going to investigate. Don't say you weren't. I know you, Steve Burton. You couldn't stay away not knowing what had actually taken place." She was perfectly correct in that assumption. I wanted to know, to be sure. Now... "Thanks, Betty." She smiled sweetly and took my hands in hers. Our eyes locked. Something chemical starting working. Then, it vanished. She winked. "We'll keep trying, Steve. One day we'll discover the way back." I nodded slowly. One day. Back home. And the nightmares of giant creatures would become distant fantasies to amuse our children. Perhaps. She caught my mood and removed her hands from my grasp. Her mouth formed an `O' as she retreated across the cabin. I caught Dan's twinkling gaze and blushed. It wasn't possible. Or was it? Anything was possible in the land of the giants. Anything - including... "Okay," I growled to cover my embarrassment. "Let's get some shut- eye. Barry...how do you feel?" "Fine, Steve." "Good. You're elected to close the door." I laughed. "On just one more adventure..."

THE END

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