Ross against a guard, was off, and against the as the man Ross not understand. A from the leader a of order, but it was plain that they had not been this. Ross was out of the room to his cell. His were opening the door when a second was and he was into with no ceremony.
He against the security of the wall, waiting through two more earth waves, of which were or by sounds. Bombing! That last was bad. Ross himself on the floor, along the earth. His with a any he had before. It was as if the very security of the world had been from under him.
But that last explosion—if it was an explosion—appeared to be the end. Ross sat up after long moments which no more moved the and walls. A line of light marked the door, where none had existed. Ross, not yet to try erect, was toward it on his hands and when a noise him him to a stop.
There was no light to see by, but he was that the of metal against metal from the of the wall. He and put his ear to the surface. Now he not only that scraping, but an of clicks, chippings....
Under his hands the surface as as ever, however. Then suddenly, a from his head, there a of metal. The was being from the other side! Ross a of very weak light, and moving in it was the point of a tool at the surface of the wall. It away with a sound, and a hand a light through the aperture.
Ross if he should catch that wrist, but the that the might just possibly be an him motionless. After the hand with the light the wall, a wide gave away and a through, by a second. In the limited he saw the enough.
"Assha!"
Ross was for what his cry. The man moved with a panther's speed, and Ross was back. A hand like a ring on his the away from his lungs; the other's him in of his struggles. The light of the small his as he to his lungs. Then the hand on his was gone and he gasped, a little dizzy.
"Murdock! What are you doing—?" Ashe's voice was by another explosion. This time the earth not only them from their feet, but to along the and across the ceiling. Ross, his in the of his arm, not himself of the that the was being slowly into scrap. When the was over he his head.
"What's going on?" He McNeil ask.
"Attack." That was Ashe. "But why, and by whom—don't ask me! You are a prisoner, I suppose, Murdock?"
"Yes, sir." Ross was that his voice normal enough.
He someone and it was McNeil. "Another party." There was in that.
"I don't understand," Ross to that of the dark where Ashe had been. "Have you been here all the time? Are you trying to your way out? I don't see how you can cut out of this that we're under——"
"Glacier!" Ashe's was as as the tremors. "So we're a glacier! That it. Yes, we've been here—"
"On ice!" McNeil and then laughed. "Glacier—ice—that's right, isn't it?"
"We're collaborating," Ashe continued. "Supplying our dear friends with a of they already have and some of they about. However, they didn't know we had a of our own about. It's what the boys at the project can pack away in a belt, or of in a boot. So we've been in some of our own——"
"But I didn't have any gadgets." Ross was by the of that.
"No," Ashe agreed, his voice and cold, "they are not to first-run men. You might up and use them at the moment. However, you appear to have done well...."
The of Ross's anger was by the noise which over their heads, ground to them through the walls, and them. He had those the end of this ice and the world; he that this one was.
And the that was as in its way as the had been. Then there was a shout, a shriek. The space of light near the door was as that barrier, from its lock, open slowly. The of being sent the men in that direction.
"Out!"
Ross was to respond to that order, but they were stopped by a of that be only one thing—rapid-fire guns. Somewhere in this a was in progress. Ross, the of the ship's officer, if this was not an attack in force—the against the Reds. If so, would the ship people those here. He not.
The room was clear, but not for long. As they watching, two men in, then to at each other. A voice from as if ordering them to some post. One of them took a step in obedience, but the other his arm and him away. They to run, and an cracked.
The man nearest Ross gave a little and to his knees, on his face. His at him for an instant, and then into the passage beyond, by a which the door as he through it.
No one followed, for there was a of noise—shouting, of pain, an hissing. Ashe into the room, taking by the body. Then he came back, the fellow's gun in his hand, and with a of his the other two. He them on in a direction away from the of battle.
"I don't all this," McNeil as they the next passage. "What's going on? Mutiny? Or have our boys through?"
"It must be the ship people," Ross answered.
"What ship?" Ashe him up swiftly.
"The big one the Reds have been looting——"
"Ship?" McNeil. "And where did you that rig?" In the light it was easy to see Ross's dress. McNeil the material wonderingly.
"From the ship," Ross returned impatiently. "But if the ship people are attacking, I don't think they will notice any us and the Reds...."
There was a of ear-splitting sound. For the third time Ross was from his feet. This time the lights flickered, dimmed, and out.
"Oh, fine," McNeil out of the dark. "I did for blindman's buff."
"The transfer plate—" Ross to his own plan of escape—"if we can that—"
The light which had Ashe and McNeil in their on. Since the earth appeared to be over for a while, they moved on, with Ashe in the lead and McNeil up the rear. Ross Ashe the way. The of had died out, so one or the other must have the victory. They might have only a moments left to pass undetected.
Ross's of direction was acute, but he not have gone so to what he as Ashe did. Only he did not lead them to the room with the plate, and Ross a as they came to a small record room.
On a table were three of tape which Ashe up avidly, two in the of his tunic, the third to McNeil. Then he about trying the on the walls, but all were locked. His hand from the last latch, Ashe came to the door where Ross waited.
"To the plate!" Ross urged.
Ashe the once more regretfully. "If we have just ten minutes here——"
McNeil snorted. "Listen, you may to be the in an ice sandwich, but I don't! Another and we'll be so a couldn't us. Let's out now. The kid is right about that—if we still can."
Once more Ashe took the lead and they through rooms to what must have been the of the post—the transfer point. To Ross's the plate was glowing. He had been by the that when the lights out the transfer plate might also have been affected. He jumped for the plate.
Neither Ashe McNeil time in joining him there. As they together there was a from them, by a shot. Ross, Ashe against him, him in his arms. By the of the plate he saw the Red leader of the post and him, his in the gloom, was the alien. Were those two now allies? Before Ross be sure that he had them, the of space time him and the of the room away.
"... free. Get a move on!"
Ross across Ashe's to McNeil's face. The other was at Ashe, who was only half-conscious. A of blood from a in his the upper of his Beaker tunic, but as they him them, he some measure of and moved his as they him off the plate.
Well, they were free if only for a seconds, and there was no waiting for them. Ross gave thanks for those two small favors. But if they were now returned to the Bronze Age village, they were still in enemy territory. With Ashe wounded, the against them were so high it was almost hopeless.
Working with from McNeil's kilt, they managed to stop the of blood from Ashe's wound. Although he was still groggy, he was fighting, by the which them all—time was one of their enemies. Ross, Ashe's gun in hand, watch on the transfer plate, to shoot at anything appearing there.
"That will have to do!" Ashe free from McNeil. "We must move." He hesitated, and then the of tape from his tunic, passed them to McNeil. "You'd these."
"All right," the other answered almost absently.
"Move!" The of that order from Ashe sent them into the beyond. "The plate...."
But the plate clear. And Ross noted that they must have returned to the proper time, for the about them were the and of the village he remembered.
"Someone through?"
"Should be—soon."
They fled, the of the other two making only the of sound, Ross's foam-soled none at all. He not have the door to the world, but again Ashe them, and only once did they have to cover. At last they a door. Ashe against the wall, McNeil supporting him, as Ross free the locking beam. They let themselves out into the night.
"Which way?" McNeil asked.
To Ross's Ashe did not turn to the gate in the stockade. Instead he at the in the opposite direction. "They'll us to try for the pass. So we had go up the there."
"That has the look of a climb," McNeil.
Ashe stirred. "When it too for me"—his voice was dry—"I shall say so, fear."
He started out with some of his old of movement, but his closed in on either side, to offer aid. Ross often later if they have free of the village on their own that night. He was sure their would have been equal to the attempt, but their would have upon a of luck such as men encounter.
As it was, they had just a of a small some two away from the one they had fled, when the began. As if on the three themselves flat. From the of the at the center of the village a pencil of brilliant-green light pointed up into the sky, and around that of the of more natural red-and-yellow flames. Figures from doors as the fire the of the roof.
"Now!" In of the clamor, Ashe's voice to his two companions.
The three for the palisade, with men who ran out of the other cabins. The of fire on, providing light, too much light. Ashe and McNeil pass as part of the crowd, but Ross's might be easily marked.
Others were for the wall. Ross and McNeil Ashe to the top, saw him over in safety. McNeil followed. Ross was just to himself up when he was in a of light.
A high, call, any he had heard, the clamor. Frantically Ross for a hold, that he was a perfect for those behind. He the top of the stockade, looked into a black of shadow, not Ashe and McNeil were waiting for him or had gone ahead. Hearing that again, Ross out into the darkness.
He badly, hard to bruise, but thanks to the skill he had learned for parachuting, he no bones. He got to his and on in the direction of the Ashe had as their goal. There were others over the of the village and moving through the shadows, so he not call out for of the enemy.
The village had been set in the part of the valley. Behind its the open ground swiftly, like the point of a funnel, and all from the settlement had to pass through that to escape. Ross's was that he had with Ashe and McNeil, and that he would be able to up their in the ahead.
Thankful for the dark he which was in the night, he twice into the to allow parties of to pass him. Hearing them speak the speech he had learned from Ulffa's people, Ross that they were of the village's purpose. These people were they had been by night demons. Perhaps there had only been a of Reds in that retreat.
Ross himself up a hard climb, and to catch his breath, looked back. He was not to see moving about the village the cabins, in search of the inhabitants. Each of those was in a form-fitting that matched his own, and their white in the firelight. Ross was to see that they passed through of flame, and by the heat.
The beings in the town and ran, or and their and hands on the ground, the invaders. Each was to a of near the main building. Some were out again into the dark, unharmed; a others were retained. A of was in progress. There was no question that the ship people had through into this time, and that they had their own for the Reds.
Ross had no to learn the particulars. He started again, the pass at last. Beyond, the ground away again, and Ross into the full of the night with a of thankfulness.
Finally, he stopped he was too weary, too hungry, to keep on his without stumbling, and a in the dark on these be costly. Ross a small a tree and into it as best he could, his against his ribs, a of pain into his with every he drew.
He all at once with the of a man who is to present danger. A hand warm and hard over his mouth, and above it his met McNeil's. When he saw that Ross was McNeil his hand. The was warm about them. Moving of his stiff, body, Ross out of the hollow. He looked around, but McNeil there alone. "Ashe?" Ross questioned him.
McNeil, a with days' of rusty-brown beard, his toward the slope. Fumbling his kilt, he out something in his and offered it to Ross. The out his and McNeil it with a of coarse-ground grain. Just to look at the Ross long for a drink, but he mouthed it and chewed, up to McNeil into the tree-grown slopes.
"It's not good." McNeil spoke jerkily, using Beaker speech. "Ashe is out of his some of the time. That in his is than we it was, and there's always the threat of infection. This whole is full of people out of that village! Most of them—all I've seen—are natives. But they have it planted in their minds now that there are after them. If they see you that suit——"
"I know, and I'd if I could," Ross agreed. "But I'll have to other first; I can't in this cold."
"That might be safer," McNeil growled. "I don't know just what there, but it must have been plenty!"
Ross a very of and then to up some in the of a tree root. It was not as as a drink, but it helped. "You said Ashe is out of his head. What do we do for him, and what are your plans?"
"We have to the river, somehow. It to the sea, and at its mouth we are to make with the sub."
The to Ross, but so many had he was to go along with the idea—as long as he could. Gathering up more snow, he it into his mouth he the already McNeil.
