The 22nd Golden Age of Science Fiction Read online

  “Devils!” Craig said huskily. “They’re devils. They don’t even take care of their own wounded comrades.”

  “If they treat their own men that way, what will they do to their captives?” Michaelson questioned.

  Craig could only stare at him in horror.

  “Ask him,” he jerked a finger toward Guru, “if the gas kills the people who inhale it.”

  The scientist put the question. Guru, squatting on his haunches, answered slowly.

  “He says they are only asleep, that after awhile they will wake up,” Michaelson said.

  “God!” Craig groaned. “I was afraid of that. Ask him what the Ogrum will do with their captives?”

  Again the scientist questioned the dawn man.

  “He says the Ogrum will take them to their city and feed them to the white beast that is always hungry.”

  Craig said nothing. He turned and looked at the Idaho. The skin was drawn tight across his face and knots were bulging at the corners of his jaws. He could see the Ogrum dancing on the decks. They looked something like humans except that their bodies were distorted, out of proportion. One was tall and very skinny. Another was short and fat. A third had one long arm and one short arm. Another had a long body and two very short legs. Just looking at them, he hated them.

  “Damn you,” he whispered. “Damn you—”

  Something touched his arm. He turned and saw that Guru had risen to his feet. The dawn man, a look of sympathy on his face, was awkwardly trying to pat him on the shoulder.

  “Guru is trying to tell you that he is sorry,” Michaelson said.

  “Thanks,” Craig said chokingly. “We—we’re not licked yet.”

  In his heart, he knew that he was whistling to keep up his own courage when he said they weren’t licked. If the Ogrum could conquer the Idaho, what could a handful of sailors do against them? True, there were several exploring parties ashore, but all of them did not total fifty men.

  What chance had fifty men against the might of the Ogrum? Fifty men armed with sub-machine guns when there had been more than a thousand men on the Idaho, armed with anti-aircraft cannons!

  * * * *

  From the shore, Craig and his companions watched the Ogrum loot the ship. Oddly, they were not interested in any of the fittings of the mighty vessel. The loot that interested them was—men! They brought in large, cargo carrying planes, powered by the same weirdly silent motors, moored them in the water beside the ship, then one by one carried the sleep-stricken members of the crew to the side and dumped them into the cargo planes. Craig thought he saw them drop Margy Sharp into one of the planes. He sat silently cursing, fists clenched. Several times the Ogrum missing connections in loading the cargo planes, with the result that the unconscious human fell into the sea. The Ogrum made no attempt to rescue the fallen men but let them float away in the current flowing from the river. Triangular fins tore through the water toward these helpless floaters.

  “What the Ogrum miss, the sharks get!” Craig said fiercely. Blood was flowing down his chin from his bitten lips. The sailors with him were white-faced and grimly silent. Michaelson, after watching the scene for a few minutes, turned abruptly and walked a few feet along the shore. They could hear him being sick.

  One by one the loaded cargo planes took off, carrying their loads of helpless human freight. The fighter planes buzzed after them. The Idaho was left deserted. Either the Ogrum had not known there were men ashore or were not at present interested in them.

  The sun was low in the west before Craig dared to venture back to the Idaho. The other exploring parties, who had been watching from hidden spots along the shore, joined him. Silently the little boats moved toward the bulk of the deserted battle wagon.

  * * * *

  The gas had long since disappeared from the ship. By sun-down, Craig knew the whole story.

  About two hundred men, caught in the lower parts of the ship by the attack and protected from the full effects of the gas by doors, were reviving. Most of them were too deathly sick to be of any immediate use. Mrs. Miller and her baby had been found hidden in the hospital bay, safe but sick.

  Captain Higgins had not been found.

  Margy Sharp had not been found.

  One man had been dragged, trembling, from the lowest hold where he had taken refuge—Voronoff.

  On the main deck, Craig held a conference with Michaelson and Guru. The answers to the questions he asked left him with a grim look on his face. He called the sailors together.

  “I have been talking to Guru,” he said. “Guru tells me that the city of the Ogrum is not far from here. He says we can reach it tonight, if we go by land, and if we use the big logs that float—by which he means our power boats—we can reach it by midnight.”

  He paused and looked expectantly at the sailors. A little stir ran through them. They instantly grasped what he was driving at.

  “Moreover,” he continued, “Guru tells me that the city is usually unguarded, that the Ogrum do not bother to post sentries.”

  Craig watched the men closely. There was hard, bitter resentment on their faces. They had seen their comrades carted away like so many sticks of wood to some unguessed fate. All they wanted was a chance to rescue their friends, or failing in that, to avenge them.

  Craig wasted few words. “I am going to the city of the Ogrum,” he said. “All of you who want to go with me, step forward.”

  The fierce shout that answered him told him all he wanted to know. The blue-jackets were with him. Only one man failed to step forward. It was Voronoff. Craig eyed him.

  “What about you, Voronoff?” he said.

  “Don’t be a damned fool!” Voronoff spat out the words. “We don’t have a chance.”

  “No?”

  “No! The Ogrum have planes and gas and everything else. If we jump them, they’ll mow us down.”

  “What would you recommend that we do?” Craig asked. His voice was soft and there was a worried expression on his face. He looked like a man who is faced with a tough problem and is weighing all the possibilities before deciding what to do.

  “There is only one thing to do,” Voronoff snapped. “Get to hell away from here as fast as we can. Hide in the jungle. Maybe the Ogrum don’t know there are any of us left alive. If we jump them, they’ll know we’re alive and they’ll clean us out.”

  “Hmmm,” Craig said thoughtfully. “You’ve probably got something there. But what about the men the Ogrum have captured?”

  Voronoff shrugged indifferently. “They’re done for,” he said. “We can’t help what happens to them.”

  * * * *

  A low growl came from the mass of sailors as Voronoff spoke.

  “I suppose we really can’t help what happens to them,” Craig said. “But I, for one am going to try to help it. We need every able-bodied man we have. That includes you, Voronoff. Are you going with us or aren’t you?”

  Craig’s voice was still soft and pleasant. Voronoff completely misinterpreted it.

  “Include me out!” he snapped. “I’m not going.”

  “No?”

  “No! You can’t make me volunteer if I don’t want to.”

  “But we need you, Voronoff,” Craig pleaded. “We need all the strength we can muster.”

  “You can go to hell!” Voronoff said sullenly.

  “You won’t go?”

  “I won’t go!”

  Craig glanced over the side of the ship. Dusk had already fallen but there was still enough light for him to see the triangular fins cutting the surface. He nodded toward the water. “Either you go with us, Voronoff,” he said evenly, “Or I, personally, am going to throw you overboard.”

  Voronoff looked like a man who did not believe his own ears. A low growl of approval came from the sailors. They remembered how they had found this man hiding in the lowest depths
of the ship when they had come aboard. While their kidnapped comrades had fought, he had gone to hide.

  “You—you don’t mean it,” Voronoff whispered.

  “I never meant anything more,” Craig answered. “We can’t have any slackers here. Either you go with us or you go overboard and take your chances of swimming ashore.”

  His voice was hard and flat and there was not the slightest trace of sympathy in it. There was no mistaking his meaning. Voronoff turned pale. He looked quickly around as though seeking a place to hide.

  “You’ve got no hole to pull in after you now,” Craig said. “What is your answer.”

  Voronoff gulped. “I’ll—I’ll go with you,” he said.

  “Good,” Craig said. He gave swift orders for the preparation of the attacking party. The sailors scurried to do his bidding. He was aware that Michaelson was plucking at his sleeve.

  “Weren’t you being rather hard on him?” the scientist questioned.

  “Maybe,” Craig answered. “The truth is, I don’t like him. There is something furtive about him. He impresses me as being pretty much of a rat. Besides, we need every man we can get.”

  “I know we do,” Michaelson said slowly. “But would you honestly have thrown him overboard if he had refused to go?”

  Craig shrugged. “Don’t ask me such questions. I don’t know the answers. Maybe I would and maybe I wouldn’t.”

  “I see,” the scientist smiled. “You’re a hard man, Craig. All I can say is that in this situation we need a hard man and I’m glad we have you to lead us.”

  “Thank you,” Craig said.

  * * * *

  Hours later Craig stood on the side of a mountain looking down at an incredible scene. Guru, by devious paths known only to the dawn man, had guided them here. Below them lay the city of the Ogrum.

  The city was located on the edge of a huge, circular bay that had apparently at some time in the remote past been the crater of a large volcano. To the east where the walls of the volcano had crumbled down was a vast swamp, a favorite feeding ground for the dinosaurs. Hundreds of the great beasts could be heard screaming and fighting in the swamp.

  The city itself held Craig’s eyes.

  He had seen the Ogrum in airplanes, he had seen them use gas, both of which meant an advanced civilization, with a great knowledge of technology. He had expected to find a city bright with lights, numbering hundreds of thousands of inhabitants, with large factories, broad streets, and—since they used planes—landing fields.

  None of these things was visible. The city of the Ogrum was unlighted. There were no wide streets, no factories in sight. There was only one large building in the city, and the buildings which apparently served as homes for the Ogrum were little better than crude huts. There was a brilliant full moon overhead, clearly revealing the whole scene.

  “It’s not possible!” Craig whispered to Michaelson. “This can’t be the city of the Ogrum. Guru brought us to the wrong place.”

  The scientist questioned Guru. Craig could hear the dawn man’s replies.

  “Guru says this is the right place,” Michaelson spoke. “He says this is the city of the Ogrum, that there is no other city.”

  “But with the exception of that temple, this place is a dump!” Craig protested. “I have seen Papuan head-hunters who had built more pretentious cities than this. The Ogrum have planes. You can’t build planes without a complex industrial system.”

  “It is certainly strange,” the scientist said musingly. “But Guru insists this is the place and I am inclined to believe him. You will note also that the city below us is not laid out in streets and I see no evidence of a lighting system.”

  “Maybe they’ve got a black-out on,” a sailor suggested.

  Guru, consulted on this point, said no, the city of the Ogrum was always dark at night. Guru had a great deal of difficulty in understanding what was meant by light, but once he grasped the idea, he insisted the Ogrum never used lights.

  “Well, it’s a damned mystery,” Craig said. “And I’m going down there and find out about it. Guru, come with me.”

  Craig had spent the hours in the boats trying to grasp the language of the dawn man. He still did not understand Guru as well as Michaelson did but he could understand enough for his purpose.

  “Just the two of you going down there?” Michaelson questioned.

  “Yes. Any more would only increase the chances of discovery. We’ve got to know the lay of the land and we’ve got to have some idea of what we will meet down there before we attempt a rescue. We probably will not be able to make an attack before tomorrow night anyhow.”

  After disposing his force and ordering them to get as much rest as possible, Craig and Guru started down to the city of the Ogrum. Michaelson had to be restrained from accompanying them.

  “You stay here,” Craig bluntly told the scientist. “You’re not as young as I am and you need a rest.”

  Overhead was a broad tropic moon. There was no wind. From the great swamp came the only sound that broke the silence of the night, the scream of the dinosaurs, the roaring of the great lions of this time. Below lay the strange city of the Ogrum.

  * * * *

  Craig felt the weirdness of the scene as he and Guru started down the side of the mountain. What kind of creatures were the Ogrum? What secret lay behind their existence? They had left no mark on history as he knew it. So far as the human race knew, the Ogrum had never existed. And yet—the sudden thought was startling—there was a word in the English language that came close to describing these creatures—ogre! Ogre and Ogrum were very similar. Were these the original ogres, those mythological monsters who devoured human beings? Had the Ogrum, known, feared, and named by the dawn men, come down through legends as ogres?

  The thought sent a shivery feeling up Craig’s spine. Was he going down into a city of monsters? Were Stinky Higgins and Margy Sharp and hundreds of men from the Idaho held as prisoners by ogres? What horrible secret was hidden down there in that silent city?

  They reached the edge of the city. It was larger than Craig had thought. Hundreds, possibly thousands of rude huts, were hidden in the jungle growth. The place smelled bad. Apparently no effort at sanitation had ever been made. A nauseous stench arose from the ground. Craig wrinkled his nose in disgust.

  “Filth!” he muttered. “This place needs nothing so much as it needs burning to the ground. Where Ogrum, Guru?” he said, turning to the dawn man.

  “Ogrum sleep,” Guru answered. “In little caves,” he said, nodding toward the huts. “Ogrum sleep.”

  “Where prisoners?” Craig asked. He had to rephrase the question and repeat it several times before the dawn man understood.

  “In big cave,” Guru said, understanding at last.

  “Where big cave?” Craig asked.

  “Big rock cave,” Guru answered, pointing toward the large stone temple that stood in the center of the city.

  “Then that is where we are going,” Craig said. “Come on.”

  Guru hung back. Craig sensed the dawn man’s fear. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Monster that is always hungry in big cave,” Guru answered.

  “Ah,” Craig said. The monster that is always hungry! The bright beast that eats forever! A shiver passed through him as he remembered how Guru had described whatever was in the cave. “What is the monster?” he questioned.

  But Guru either did not understand or could not explain, and Craig was left with no knowledge of the nature of the monster. However he could guess that the Ogrum regarded the thing in the temple as a god and offered sacrifices to it, an impression which Guru confirmed.

  “Tomorrow when sun goes,” Guru said. “Ogrum feed one man to bright beast that is always hungry. Next day when sun goes feed beast again. Keep up until no one left to feed. Then go hunt more people.”

  Cr
aig recognized the performance as an incredibly ancient ritual of sacrifice to ensure the return of the sun. The Ogrum seemingly had no real knowledge of the universe. Each night when the sun went down they were not sure that it would rise again. To make certain the bright light in the sky would return again, they offered a sacrifice to it.

  “What do they do when they run out of captives?” he asked.

  “Catch Ogrum, feed him to beast,” the dawn man answered.

  When they ran out of captives, the Ogrum sacrificed their own people!

  “Well, we’ve still got to find out what is in that temple and where our people are being held,” Craig said grimly. “If Guru is afraid, Guru may stay here. I will go alone.”

  Guru was afraid. There was no doubt about that. Craig did not criticize the dawn man for being afraid. He regarded it as evidence of good, sound sense. But, afraid or not, Guru went with him. Slipping like a pair of ghosts through the rough paths that served as streets, they entered the silent city. Guru was as noiseless as a shadow, and Craig, every sense alert, moved as quietly as an Indian. The big American knew that from any of the huts an Ogrum might emerge at any moment.

  * * * *

  They reached the temple unobserved.

  It was a bigger building than had been apparent from the mountain above. Unlike the huts, it was constructed of stone. Roughly circular in shape, a line of columns circled the outer edge. The construction was crude. The Ogrum either had not yet invented the arch or scorned to use it. Numerous holes big enough for a man to enter standing erect, but not much bigger, served as entrances. The holes were without doors, another invention the Ogrum apparently had not yet made, and Craig was again struck by the strangely warped development of this race that knew how to build airplanes and to use poison gas but still did not know how to build arches.

  Unlike the city, the temple was guarded. Yellow-robed, shaven-headed sentries paced around the building keeping inside the circles of the columns.

  “Friends of the bright beast that is always hungry,” Guru called them. Craig decided they were priests, temple guards. He saw they were armed with spears and swords. In addition each guard carried a pouch of small, round objects that looked like grenades.