guide, he would follow through and see what could be seen. After that—well, he’d see about his get-away!
Chapter 10 "The Fiends Wear Stripes!"
"It a signal from Kunosh, Nelson flicked on his helmet light and the old man, with a wave of his hand over a spot near the entranceway, turned off the glow in the room. Then, in the restricted rays of the helmet, the two left and started off down the corridor.
Nelson’s heart beat faster as they went on down through the deserted corridors near the surface of the little moon. At long last it seemed to him that he was going to see the ancient Martians at their occupations, to learn the mysteries of their civilization, to know what sort of secrets were tucked away in their vaults beneath the red world’s surface.
It was apparent to the young man that the entire moon of Deimos was honeycombed with rooms and tunnels. It must, he realized, be almost hollow. He turned and asked Kunosh, who was moving silently before him through the gloom of the corridors.
The old man quickly shook his head. “Not now. I haven’t time to answer questions. Wait, we are coming to places where there will be people.”
Now the lighting in the corridors was becoming brighter and the air seemed fresher. Nelson felt a breeze against his face, a breeze that came and went and he realized that an artificial air-circulation system . was in operation near the central depths of Deimos. The floors were no longer dusty and began to show the marks of feet and usage. Then at last they rounded a turn and came face to face with a group of people walking.
The strangers’ faces showed recognition and unconcern when they saw Kunosh, who was ahead, but as soon as they set eyes on Nelson Parr there was visible consternation. They shrank against the walls to let him pass with the widest of margins, their faces went pale, and they showed every sign of outright terror.
The people were of the same race as Kunosh and all were clad in very much the same sort of undistinctive garments. The women among them were distinguished only by a slightly smaller size, a delicate cast of features and somewhat more ornate clothing, generally of a lighter shade of blue, or in several cases even green. Nelson supposed that perhaps these differences indicated marital status or perhaps work relationships.
Now there were doors that were open and sometimes even open underground plazas. Nelson could see that they were passing through a busy community. He saw workshops where oddly shaped machinery worked unattended at unguessable tasks. He looked into doorways that led into homes, where two or three pale-faced and fragile children would look soberly at him and shrink back out of sight. He passed people carrying packages, women carrying babies. He saw open chambers at junctions in the network of tunneling where markets seemed to be in progress, and once they walked through a series of rooms wherein strange green-gray plants were growing under the glare of sun-type lamps. This was obviously one of their chemically operated farms, such as would have been necessary to sustain life in such a sunless world.
But wherever Kunosh and Nelson put in their appearance, there were fright and terror. On Earth, Nelson thought, if strangers appeared in some remote region of the world, they would be surrounded by inquiring, curious grownups and screaming, excited children. But these people were lacking in all that. They seemed terrified of anything strange, they seemed —he groped in his mind for the picture he sought— they seemed like rabbits or even pale frightened white mice.
None of the men questioned Kunosh, though plainly he was recognized by all. Whenever he and Nelson put in an appearance, there was silence and a scurrying away of all who dared flee.
Nelson was aware that they were nearing the heart of the little world. At last Kunosh stopped before a door, opened it, and they slipped into a narrow
Chapter 10 "The Fiends Wear Stripes!"
"It a signal from Kunosh, Nelson flicked on his helmet light and the old man, with a wave of his hand over a spot near the entranceway, turned off the glow in the room. Then, in the restricted rays of the helmet, the two left and started off down the corridor.
Nelson’s heart beat faster as they went on down through the deserted corridors near the surface of the little moon. At long last it seemed to him that he was going to see the ancient Martians at their occupations, to learn the mysteries of their civilization, to know what sort of secrets were tucked away in their vaults beneath the red world’s surface.
It was apparent to the young man that the entire moon of Deimos was honeycombed with rooms and tunnels. It must, he realized, be almost hollow. He turned and asked Kunosh, who was moving silently before him through the gloom of the corridors.
The old man quickly shook his head. “Not now. I haven’t time to answer questions. Wait, we are coming to places where there will be people.”
Now the lighting in the corridors was becoming brighter and the air seemed fresher. Nelson felt a breeze against his face, a breeze that came and went and he realized that an artificial air-circulation system . was in operation near the central depths of Deimos. The floors were no longer dusty and began to show the marks of feet and usage. Then at last they rounded a turn and came face to face with a group of people walking.
The strangers’ faces showed recognition and unconcern when they saw Kunosh, who was ahead, but as soon as they set eyes on Nelson Parr there was visible consternation. They shrank against the walls to let him pass with the widest of margins, their faces went pale, and they showed every sign of outright terror.
The people were of the same race as Kunosh and all were clad in very much the same sort of undistinctive garments. The women among them were distinguished only by a slightly smaller size, a delicate cast of features and somewhat more ornate clothing, generally of a lighter shade of blue, or in several cases even green. Nelson supposed that perhaps these differences indicated marital status or perhaps work relationships.
Now there were doors that were open and sometimes even open underground plazas. Nelson could see that they were passing through a busy community. He saw workshops where oddly shaped machinery worked unattended at unguessable tasks. He looked into doorways that led into homes, where two or three pale-faced and fragile children would look soberly at him and shrink back out of sight. He passed people carrying packages, women carrying babies. He saw open chambers at junctions in the network of tunneling where markets seemed to be in progress, and once they walked through a series of rooms wherein strange green-gray plants were growing under the glare of sun-type lamps. This was obviously one of their chemically operated farms, such as would have been necessary to sustain life in such a sunless world.
But wherever Kunosh and Nelson put in their appearance, there were fright and terror. On Earth, Nelson thought, if strangers appeared in some remote region of the world, they would be surrounded by inquiring, curious grownups and screaming, excited children. But these people were lacking in all that. They seemed terrified of anything strange, they seemed —he groped in his mind for the picture he sought— they seemed like rabbits or even pale frightened white mice.
None of the men questioned Kunosh, though plainly he was recognized by all. Whenever he and Nelson put in an appearance, there was silence and a scurrying away of all who dared flee.
Nelson was aware that they were nearing the heart of the little world. At last Kunosh stopped before a door, opened it, and they slipped into a narrow
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