The were Mitchell Prell's into a corner, where Midas Touch pistols, low, play against it. Then they would no walls, and with the same beams. The air itself would up considerably. Combustible dust, would to dust. Drafts would hurricanes.
"There's a way out—if we hurry," Mitchell Prell said. "Imitate my movements."
And so they in the atmosphere. But without other it would have been slow going indeed. But the motion of the direction of air that be into and used to distance.
Still, progress to the and the microscopes, and the from which they had been but a minutes before, was slow. By luck and offered by the jar, this had not yet been or moved by Loman and his men.
Ed and his came to at last on the surface where little were around the and their apparatus.
"Tools that we can use," Ed said. "And materials that we can work. We've got to try to take some along. To make weapons. Could we Midas Touch pistols that we hold?"
"Maybe," Prell answered. "I so. Take this, and that—and that over there. Hurry."
Creatures of vitaplasm, with its of the hydrocarbons, and its that involve and energy release, still die under conditions.
The three to and to themselves. Ed was in the new conditions, where the to tear him away from any foothold. But he himself down.
Before they were all that they use, the and of Midas Touch weapons, low so as not to Mitchell Prell's apparatus, but to any of life that Carter Loman might the presence of, them. Prell's plant life slowly.
"Lead on!" Ed Dukas shouted.
And so, though had for them, they across the surface the of the little and into the air at its edge. It was like from a cliff. But it was different, too. For if they had not been so burdened, they might not have fallen. Being such small objects, they had a surface than large objects, in to their bulk. This surface, like a sail presented to the wind, offered a larger area for to hit; hence, without the equipment, they would have been as as particles.
Still together by their joining of floss, the three slowly to the of the shelf.
"An more to go," Prell shouted, in humor. "A long one, I'm afraid."
Again they crept. Rough of the rose around them, than they had known. And it reddish-violet. Fluorescence, it must be, from the of the Midas Touch weapons. Tediously the three toward escape, as if through a night of fire and violence. Finally they a minute door in the of the cupboard, in the of the stone.
They closed the door them and its bolt. The space around them now was narrower—more in to their own size. And there was a here—at least to their final eyesight. Perhaps there was a of in the the glow. The were as as a cave's.
"Just a in the stone," Barbara commented.
"Yes," Prell replied. "A leading out to the of the formation. Feel the of Martian night air? It would and freeze you if you were as you were born. But our not only cold, it can create of itself. We will be perfectly here, and safe—I think. Do you want to rest?"
"No," Barbara told him. "We don't need that, either, do we? So let's what must be done. What are our plans, Ed?"
"We'll make a things, if we can," Ed replied. "Then to a somehow. I that if we the right wind at the right time, it will us there—eh, Uncle Mitch? Then we'll do as you did—drift into a space and a free home to Earth. There—well, we'll see. If we're very, very lucky, we might our old back."
Just then that to be his greatest, most yearning, with many, many in its way. Even their personal were in enemy hands now. Small though those were, they were too for them to move or to think of recapturing.
"Where can we start to work?" Ed said to his uncle.
"Farther along the cleft," Prell told him. "I've already some there. And there's a level space in a protected from these air currents."
Now they and let the them. The of in the from which they had just escaped, they left them. They in the work area and got at once.
Near they the of sounds. So they air currents, by of dust, to a that sky and the desert. Thus they saw Carter Loman's start toward Port Karnak, with its of all that Mitchell Prell had here: the fruit of a man's mind. But to Loman it was also the of the world's inventions. Loman was an and also, obviously, a figure, a of some importance, or he would not have been sent on this mission. But his mind that of a bigot.
Just then Ed Dukas a in one of the smallest to at the three vehicles. "Loman, Granger and the of you," he said, "there'll come a time. You've been fools. You were too late."
The work on for days—more than Ed have imagined, with only hand to use. The same old hard at this size level—and in texture—as if the themselves had expanded. Barbara and with a of mineral, only what a for a polish. Hammering did little good in such metals, though Ed Dukas and Mitchell Prell were so much than they had been. Only and pressure were effective, when by the of a forge—a of by a and screened, though vitaplasm, being or itself, was less by than protoplasm.
But at last they produced three rough, and their fittings.
Ed Dukas to to littleness. But to see with their of through the thin air its wonder. Crazy was all around: strange, rich colors; notes—fine of normal sounds. Sometimes, in the daylight, near open to the outdoors, you saw than yourself: Martian life; little of deep, with red and with of an warm hue. These were Martian in by the breeze.
And once there was something else that Ed and Barbara saw: something like the smallest of Earthly insects, but not that, either. A thing of steel-blue and great eyes, and as as plastic. Ed that he it with his hands. It rested in the for a moment; then it was gone.
"I that there are star worlds as odd as this," Barbara commented.
She was herself—an being that in the air, her there was or darkness. To Ed, she was part of his from Earth. In himself to an where the act of walking was a memory, it that Earth away, easily yet frighteningly, like a dream, until Ed that, by degree, his mind was different than it had been, and he not the same person. And it more so with Babs.
"Bacon and eggs for breakfast, Eddie," she once, lightly. "Walks under old trees a river. The Youth Center. Teachers I used to know. Yes, I remember. But the memory to dim. And I want to on. Got to, there are to be done. But sometimes I wonder if I shouldn't the duty. I think of in or high over trees—being as as children and can imagine. We do it! It's part of being super, isn't it? And I used to be of an android!"
It was fun, and from grimness, to her talk like that. And now, too, he that being of was not so bad. Yet part of him still for his old dimensions. And here in smallness he sometimes that she was so much that he was her—that she would let herself be away into the vastness, to be again.
They ate a food-jelly, which Prell had prepared long ago for his here, and silicates. In it you see the and the of between. Viscosity etiquette. Everything to to you. You laughed and it off as best you could.
But in moments didn't fade. Hard work helped them. Murder and were too new. The on Earth was still too plain—perhaps on hours or of time. Speed was the keynote.
Only once the three micro-beings into the that had to Mitchell Prell, colossus. It was empty now, with the of left by the Midas Touch pistols. No one had to it, as had surely been done with the equipment.
Mitchell Prell had a radio, like one he had owned before. A of dust, a of metal, an power supply. Simple, compact. Certain were to radio waves. And at these dimensions, they electric almost directly into that ears hear.
So Ed Dukas the again: "... Android groups are still in large numbers to safety among their own and to out their own plans. There is a calm. Fear of so to have in check. We that it can hold."
Later there was a from Port Smitty: "... This was but has now been released. The of Mitchell Prell's is solved after ten years. What is to be his body—much damaged, since he and his confederates, one of is to be a close relative, and had to be down—was in to Port Smitty and is now en to Earth, along with some equipment. The man who Prell is Carter Loman, a scientist in his own right, who has had a but career in Interworld Security. Detailed is under seal, but Prell, a of 'improved mankind,' has been wanted for and possible for a long time. It has been that his had gone than most would to imagine."
Mitchell Prell, micro-being, chuckled. "The part," he remarked, "is that I a full-size myself. My old good enough. Or I didn't around to a change."
But Ed didn't at this. And he looked when one of Tom Granger's speeches was rebroadcast: "Prell ended? Can we it? There is an that him in ways. Now are there unknowns, too? Haven't we had enough? Some from are destroyed, but others come, to make our nights hideous. A with a fifty-foot on a house, and people die. Are any different from what they create? But we are fortified, armed. If we must, we'll to the last."
No there was truth the oratory—at least as as the was concerned. Barbara sadly.
"He's earnest, I think," she offered. "So there's that much and in him, if there isn't any control. And you keep wondering, Is he right?"
"I know," Ed answered with some contrition. "But I'd have what he a scientific than nothing. Well, we'll soon be en to Earth—unseen. Then maybe we'll out and something. Lack of sense, like Granger's, or the way in which laws are often now, will work. That's one I'm sure of, in a booby-trapped situation."
Ed was trying to be optimistic. In three they had that they they use. The three were Midas Touch pistols—neutron blast that a of the of any solid or liquid that their touched. They also had a dozen of the same and to rations. There was a radio for each of the three—for reception, but also useful as transmitters. And there were and from and as Prell had to do.
"We'll catch the Earth-bound ship that we can," Prell said. "Queer, isn't it? If we walk, going a mile would impossible. But the and a little will us to Port Karnak. The train will take us to the space ships."
Prell had spoken too soon. Within that same hour, to the newscast, they learned: "For security reasons, traffic has been suspended."
Ed Dukas as if in pain. He and Barbara and Prell looked at one another. In Ed's strange, small body, and anger hummed.
"Security reasons." That be a excuse—minus explanations—for almost anything. Loman, of something and microscopic, and at an from Mars, well have had a hand in the order. He was wary, and not sure that he had his enemies.
The three at the that they had so hard to produce. But Ed, like many another man him who had been cornered, couldn't have if he had it. Stubborn spunk, fear, need to losses, self-preservation and the of the of millions of well-intentioned individuals, and human, all took part in the reason. And you add the and for revenge.
Ed with the others on the of their in the rock. "Wait," he said at last. "Haven't small objects space naturally—at least in hypothesis? Yes! Spores—living dust, their functions suspended. The old Arrhenius Theory of the of life from world to world and to system—throughout the universe. A spore, high in an atmosphere, through and the pressure of light. It's into space, and onward. Uncle Mitch, couldn't the same thing to us more readily, since we're not and we have minds to help direct our movements? Since we have of from the Midas Touch weapons? And aren't we more than the androids? Wouldn't we have a to space itself?"
Mitchell Prell him quietly. Perhaps his a trifle. "Something like that to me once—a long time ago, Ed," he at last, his voice very calm. "I didn't think it through. I it just too out of the ordinary for me. And there wasn't any need to try it. Perhaps I was scared."
"There's need now," Ed said.
Barbara's was a study of and fear. "Eddie, have you maybe something?" she exclaimed. "Uncle Mitch, if there is any that it would work, I'm game to try it!"
After a moment the scientist nodded. "I that there's a good it will work," he said.
Before the next they were ready. Clothed in of fiber, they looked like from fifty thousand years before. Yet their present condition have to no era. They were by a line of strands, and their was to their backs. To they would have been as as spirits. Were they to demonstrate, unintentionally, in yet another field? Maybe, maybe not.
From the of the in the rock, they themselves into the above the desert. Their great at this stage was that, at the Martian fringe, there were many updrafts, for the air, at night, was already warming. At once they were upward, as if by a wind. Still, the phase of their climb took many hours. They for upward-moving to them. Short, of from their Midas Touch provided the or to them into the currents.
Mars below, a plain marked here and there by the straight, or "canals." The relative of a world to beings of was by the of altitude, until it looked no more than it would have to the that used to be theirs. Mars a visible and a of haze, to by the sun. The sky above from hard, toward the of space, and the sharpened. The sun whitely, and the of its to show. The to a surface the three voyagers.
They had spoken little in their ascent; but now the free movement of was by the vacuum, and there were only and lip movements to meanings.
But there was not much that needed to be said. The plan simple: into of upward-jetting molecules, marked by small or of light. Absorb some of that into yourselves. How often had this same thing happened, without design? Molecules move fast in a high vacuum. Molecular was heat, wasn't it? But here it not burn. For is to matter, and here there was just not to be hot.
Ed that they must be close to the Martian of now. Only three-point-two miles second. They might have it more by making use of their Midas Touch cylinders. There was any more than that of at almost the speed of light. But there was a in it in a more difficult way. Besides, the energy supply for the must be conserved.
But now Prell with his hand, and they to use the in earnest, shifting their little by little from the and in the direction of the sun. For it was time to inward—earthward. Swiftly now, there was no around them at all. Sense of motion out. Their high was only by the of Mars them; unless, from there came a minute, thrust. Light pressure? But it would take a longer time in space than they meant to be to slow them at all.
"We've done this much!" Ed said with his lips, but without a voice.
Barbara and to smile, and he out and pressed her hand. Prell looked and bemused.
Ed then to read part of their in the of his strange, minute to the of space. It was an more than it was a chemical one. Therefore, it needed no breath. And the strong, energy of the sun it a little, so he did not cold. Hard light not to it. There was only a as of the of its hide—perhaps an of its vitality—to protect the of it against the of space. The be or liquid air—it was that adaptable. Prell had said this recently. Such did not freeze easily. But they evaporated. So water the best in space. For in the full light of the sun, and with a metabolism, was not a great danger.
Several days out from Mars the three a small swarm—maybe a of a moving and earthward. They moved with the and on a of eight through at its largest diameter. But to them it was an world into which they burrow, the entrance to their with dust—a thing, for in the open the sun's and of space were out their and their minds.
The proved not lifeless, for on it clear and rose again. Call it biology, that one know where something might thrive. In a into any atmosphere, such would surely be away without a trace.
Ed and Barbara and Prell learned to speech by lip movements. The need for still in their minds, but over them—perhaps another was here, related to the of animals in winter. It of when were not too favorable. But you its if you your will.
The moved on in the direction of Earth. The would take weeks, and though Ed that had there been a of as as this one, still the passage of time, and the events it held, was always with him and his companions.
There was a way for them still to sounds, here. The quartz-flake radio sets, pressed tight to their ears, through their own substance, when there was no air. They of from Earth. Pictures of what was there came to mind:
A score of by parties. A issue, really. For in post and line, man the that his knowledge had produced. When there were no to the forces, you just where those lines would be.
But the scared, the pleading, the voices, in the distance, gave the mood, if not the clear view. Tom Granger was there, and others like him. The latest was that gave off radiations—not very true on Earth, where its energy mainly chemical.
Those with also to be heard. And there were other voices calling for the to and the doing of work by hand. Such a of white clouds, green and have its appeal. But how its and billions? Even if it were not just a the last battle?
And in the of all this babble, there was another voice that was thunder: "... Got of our own now, here in the woods! Even our own station. Damn, we've taken enough! We Phonies won't go no further! Time to be stubborn—even if we all die for it and come back! They say would like to me—which how much they've got! Even if they got the chance, it wouldn't work!"
With a smile, Barbara's the name for her to read: "Abel Freeman...."
Ed nodded, his uncle's over an and a that he had only them tell about. And Ed had his own reactions, of admiration, and that came close to hatred. Whatever else he was, Abel Freeman was also a of power.
Barbara's mouth—she was more than a pixy—shaped other as they at the entrance of a that they had into their meteor. Outside, the blazed.
"I've almost said it before, Ed," she remarked. "All these on Earth are still to me—never fear. But I'm a little too different now to to it. It like a dream—kind of remote."
Ed had been this himself—almost with panic, he was the person he had been to with the and of what at home. Yet somehow part of him was away on its own special course.
"Hold on, Babs, a little longer," he urged.
They into sleep after they had a to them with an electric at an time. It their and allowed them to pass the long quickly.
Ed Dukas's was not dreamless. Like shadows, people moved in his mind. His parents. His old friend Les Payten, who had the white and had been to a small viewpoint. Schaeffer, one of the scientists, in his in the City. And Harwell, the but adventurer—another of his boyhood, who was to the star ship. And most of all, there was that bigot, Carter Loman, who his black fury.
Perhaps Ed slept than the others and more to the of electricity, he had to the show. The major of was his.
He his wife and his uncle and pointed to the blue-green that was the Earth, still miles away. Lashing their to their and onto one another's like Alpine climbers, they into space one more, pushed by the of their Midas Touch cylinders. They had to make the of their from their meteor, which would not pass any nearer to Earth.
When the home was by to a great, mottled, bubble, Ed at the line for attention and spoke without in the silence: "We've talked over before," he said. "So we know what to do—though only generally. We'd like to together. But there is just no way to do that and work fast—which may be a point. So we'll soon have to scatter. But we'll on our receivers. At least one of us should be able to a way to back. Failing that, we still know where to meet. Remember—the by my old house. The by the and the branch."
Prell's knitted, his mind in the swift, action to come. Barbara gave a laugh.
"The of an oak!" her commented. "What a place! But it natural enough. Are we mad, or were we once just dull?"
Was her just bravado, or was she as as she seemed? Ed that she was cool. Tugging at the line that joined them, Ed himself close to her.
"You don't have to speak, Eddie," she told him. "I know what you're thinking. But why shouldn't I—and all of us—be all right?"
Her had sobered. She looked strong. And so he was relieved. He her. Perhaps it was odd that dust-mote beings still do that.