THE MAN WHO

  COULD NOT DIE

  By E.K. Jarvis

  Death comes for all of us, but wise men have said: "He who cannot die must be one who has no fear of death —one who laughs at death—one who cares not whether he lives or dies."

  "HO!" SHOUTED the green giant. He lunged forward, the long bright blade shooting out at the breast of the enemy.

  But the other wasn't there when the sword point arrived. Swift as light from the tower of Meso, he moved. A great laugh of joy rose from the depths of the huge chest as he parried the thrust of the sword with the one in his own left hand. As a snake strikes, so did his own thrusting blade seek the other's chest and enter to its entire length and more than a foot beyond.

  But Gomo did not fall. His fingers loosed the swords they held and seized the blade thrust through him. While the others watched with incredulity, Gomo snapped the blade, off an inch from where it entered his belly. Then he fell on his face and fountains of green blood spurted from the hole in his body. He writhed in agony.

  Sido continued his wild laughter as he looked down on the corpse of the man he had once called friend. And then the laughter slowly subsided as the great head shook in wonder at the dead man's strength. Sido kicked the body gently so that it rolled once or twice, then settled back to the pose death had given it. Still shaking his head, Sido turned, looked at the men sitting at the small table on the outside of the Cafe Mars, and shouted:

  "Ho, Earthmen! How did you like that?"

  For a long instant there was no answer. Then the corporal in charge of the squad said: "Sido is still a fool!" It was a flat statement of fact.

  The Martian's face stilled. Only the great red eyes seemed alive, and the hate which blazed out at the Earthmen was almost physical, so intense was it. Then the giant grunted an inaudible something and moved past the men at the table, with a swagger which made most of them clench their fists in impotent anger.

  "Gad!" said Kildeer, the youngest and rawest recruit on the squad. "What makes these goons tick? Is that all they live for, fight and die?"

  "DAMN 'EM!" Captain Haynes growled. "It's always on their minds, revolt. And revenge...." He sighed and leaned back in his chair. His deep-set eyes seemed even more sunken than usual. Sweat dripped in a steady stream down the sides of his face and stained his tunic and trousers. Captain Haynes looked very uncomfortable and unhappy. He looked up at the soldier before him, regarded the man with brooding, searching glance for an instant, then said tiredly, "Oh, relax, Lafarge! What the hell! We're not in the States. To hell with regulations.

  "Y'know, Lafarge. I worry about you. Doesn't make sense, does it? Because I know you worry about me, and with more reason. But maybe it's because I don't understand you and you do me. I don't know what you think of me, but I feel sure you don't think me a fool."

  "Not a fool, sir," Lafarge said.

  "No! Not a fool. Just incompetent ... And rightly so. But tell me, Lafarge. Why do you stay here and remain subordinate to men like myself? Certainly if I were C. O. C. you would have been a Major long ago. You run this post, as you have done since you came two years and some months ago. Without you, well, I don't know what would be...."

  "The Captain exaggerates."

  "The Captain speaks the truth. Six months I've been here, and it seems like six years. Heat, filth, beasts and Martians, and that damned pipeline from the depths of hell. Y'know, Lafarge, I curse the man who first split the atom...." Haynes suddenly leaned forward and placed his arms on the desk and peered up through slitted eyes at Lafarge. "Fort Allen. Fifty men and three officers...all that are between a hundred thousand Martians and damnation, or worse. Why? Because back on Earth someone found that what was thought to be canals or belts of vegetation were in reality gigantic pipelines. So they sent exploration parties to investigate. And what do they find. The solution to all their difficulties. No more atom splitting. No more worrying about chain reactions and mutations, climactic changes, water evaporation, and I don't know what else as a result of the atomic discharges. Within these pipes a constant stream of pure energy was flowing, the contribution of a long-dead Martian civilization. Lafarge..."

  "Sir...?"

  "The bottle there. I'm thirsty." Haynes drank noisily of the liquid. "Precious stuff, isn't it? The natives here kill for it, don't they?"

  "The natives here kill for no apparent reason, sir," Lafarge said.

  "But in us they would find a reason," Haynes said. "What keeps them from rushing the fort? I've seen them fight each other. They have no fear; they have no concept of it. And they know that in all this vast section of this damned planet we are alone."

  "I think they're waiting for something." Lafarge heaved a mental sigh of relief. Now that Haynes was through with his talking perhaps he would have a chance to get off his mind what was on it. "They're suddenly more insolent, more sure of themselves. Something's in the wind. I'd like to take a patrol out...."

  "To where?" Haynes asked.

  "To the edge of the desert, where the great dunes lie. I have a feeling that the mystery lies in those hills somewhere. All I'll need will be ten men and two trucks."

  "Pick them. And take enough ammo and supplies to last a week, Lafarge."

  Corporal Vincent Lafarge came to attention, saluted and did an about-face and marched from the office. Elation flushed his rather pale cheeks. Now he could get to the bottom of it. Just the business of picking his squad. And that wouldn't be too hard.

  THEY WERE haggard, drawn, utterly spent in spirit, as they struggled out from under the loads of the sand-weighted blankets. The wind was still strong, but now it was only blowing in gusts. The fury of the storm had been spent. Tired as he was, and knowing his men to be in the same condition, Lafarge ordered them to work.

  When they had done he called them together and put the problem before them. They could go back to Fort Allen or continue to their goal, the spot in the desert where the pipelines from the depths of Mars came out into the open. It was a day's journey either way. But at one end there might be disappointment. For the water at the oasis had been shut off for them the same might hold true at the next place. Lafarge felt quite sure that there would be no attack now. The storm had seen to that.

  "Well," said Kildeer. "We've got our walkie-talkies. If things get bad we can call Captain Haynes and have him send help."

  "We'd have to wait till the Captain contacted Meso," Lafarge said. "He doesn't have enough men at the fort. And help from Meso might not arrive for a couple of days...."

  "Could I ask a question, Corporal?" a man named Sellers asked.

  "Shoot."

  "Just what sort of mission are we on?"

  "I think the pipeline in the desert is being tampered with. Something is wrong there, I'm sure. Do you know why Sido and his friend fought yesterday?"

  They shook their heads.

  " . . . Because the other man showed something from his pouch to Mowee, the cafe owner. I saw it. It was a piece of fused sand. A piece about a foot in length. It looked as if a fire of intense heat had been laid down its length. If there is a break in the pipe some of that energy is being lost. And if the break widens it would be impossible to say what the result would be. But I can say this much. This whole planet would become a mass of molten flame, if all the energy escapes. I feel sure it becomes combustible on contact with the air. And I feel sure Sido, Mowee and others know of the leak. But these damned green monsters haven't the scientific knowledge to figure out the calamity which might follow. They might reason that if they enlarge the break or leak it would be sabotage and a means of vengeance. So we might have to fight the green boys and fix the break or leak.

  "That's why I picked you men. You're all construction-unit men. And that was why the second truck is filled with equipment."

  "Does the Captain know this, Corporal?" Maloney asked.

  Lafarge shook his head. Perhaps he had been wrong in not telling Haynes. But he knew what would have happened. Haynes would have contacted Meso. There, it would have had to go through routine and red tape. A week might have gone by before an investigation would have taken place. A week might be six days too long....

  "No, he doesn't. Now the cat's out of the bag. This is my idea. And if it's as bad as I think we'll have our work cut out for us. What's more, there won't be any medals or honors in store if we do succeed, because there isn't going to be a report except that we found and repaired a leak on pipe No. 9. So talk up now."

  One by one the men stepped forward and shook Lafarge's hand. There was an odd trace of wetness in his eyes as he gave the command to proceed.

  THE HILL was not sheer and it took but a half dozen bounds to reach the top. Each man held his machine pistol at the ready, the long grip-container holding a hundred of the tiny needle-like explosive shells. The pistol was calibrated so that each press of the trigger let loose ten of the tiny missles.

  Lafarge, first to the top, fell flat on his face. His men did likewise. He peered over the edge down at the busy scene below. Pipe No. 9, like all the other pipes, was a mile wide and rose some ten feet above the surface. But now they saw what they had never seen before. How deep the pipe had been buried. The excavation around it was fully four hundred feet deep and extended beyond the edges of the pipe for a distance of fifty feet each way. Thousands of the green giants were busily engaged in digging below the pipe. But what took the attention of Lafarge and the others were the strange creatures standing about, watching the green men dig.

  They were things out of a nightmare. T here was no torso, no legs or arms, just a gigantic bald skull and crab-like tentacles on which they scuttled back and forth along the edges of the excavation.

  "Kildeer!" La f arge whispered. "Contact Captain Haynes! Quickly!" Kildeer worked the walkie-talkie for several seconds, raised the fort and started to send his message through. Instead, Lafarge saw his face go pale as he listened in rapt attention to the receiver.

  "The fort's being attacked," Kildeer announced. "Captain Haynes is asking Meso for reinforcements. A couple of thousand of the green goons are trying to get in...."

  Lafarge pounded a fist into a palm. It was clear as crystal now. These monstrous things below; they had something to do with the attack on the fort, with the suddenly insolent and cocksure attitude of Sido and his friends, with the sly looks Mowee had sent them as they sat in the cafe But who were they, and what did they want?

  "What'll we do now, corporal?" Maloney asked.

  What was there to do, Lafarge wondered. There was no place to retreat to, no water, and they couldn't attack. The whole thing was taken out of his hands in very short order. For suddenly some of the crab-like monstrosities stopped their scuttling and paused in listening attitudes.

  Something was said, some message given, for immediately all activity ceased. And like avenging angels the green men swarmed upward toward the small group at the top of the hill. There was no need for hiding now. An odd feeling of relief broke the despair around Lafarge's heart. Action! That was what they needed. Fanning the machine pistol slowly before them, Lafarge let loose a stream of explosive needles at the oncoming horde. It was the signal for the rest of his men to follow. The green men died by the hundreds in the first wild rush. But now the other creatures took charge. The next wave of green men did not come charging wildly and straight up. They came, some rushing forward, while others fell to the ground and crawled, to suddenly come erect and charge a few yards, only to fall on their faces until they had a better opportunity to advance.

  Had the hill been higher the green men might not have made the crest. But some came through on both flanks. Lafarge detailed four of the squad to cover the others with their fire. He and the rest continued to pour their shots down at whatever they saw.

  Suddenly Ryerson, one of those on cover, shouted: "Corporal! Those bloody goons are wrecking our trucks!"

  Lafarge leaped to Ryerson's side and peered down to the spot where the trucks had been left. Ryerson was right. For suddenly twin bursts of flame spouted from the trucks ... The die had been cast. There was no retreat now. They were finished.

  THE EIGHT Earthmen were shoved forward along a wide and level path which led straight between the center row of girders. And though they did not see them, they could hear the shouted directions of these strange beings. And at last they arrived at the strangest of all places.

  It was a vast crypt, extending for miles. Countless little chambers were to be seen. And sticking out from the nearest of those chambers were the huge heads of the strange beings. The gloom was not so intense Lafarge could not make out their features. Oddly, he found their faces showing every sign of advanced intelligence, with high wide foreheads, and bright intense glance. Their mouths, noses and ears were small by comparison to the gigantic skull, but it was to be expected.

  Lafarge wondered suddenly how he and the others had heard their voices. And the nearest of the skulls answered, in rather mild tones:

  "Voice projection, through the medium of extrasensory perception. All beings, human and animal, have it. We have merely made a science of it!"

  "And also mind reading," Lafarge said.

  "In a mild way. It really isn't necessary. Humans react according to a formula, depending on environment, mental state, and exterior influence. For example, let us take yourself. I called upon you to surrender and immediately you thought that surrender would give you another lease on life. And it did. But one which we can lift at our own discretion. Therefore act with reason and intelligent foresight and all will be well. I address myself to you because it is obvious that you are the leader, both in the status of your calling, and mentally so. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes. Very. If we don't do as we're told, death will come to call on us."

  "I would have phrased if otherwise. But the idea is as stated."

  "Well, since this is conversation mind telling me who you people are and what is behind all this?"

  "Not at all. A most reasonable request. We are the Liktii. The last of the cultured races which lived on Mars when it was a planet which held life. But we knew that someday life would end on the planet. And so we sought to prevent it or subvert it to our ends. So we discovered that we could do so, but not in our lifetime thought it was great, compared to yours. Let me see, a measure of Earth time is a hundred years, I believe....

  Well, we found that in a hundred thousand times a hundred years the energy we let loose within the walls of this vast tunnel would reach the stage at which it could be harnessed. But we wanted to be here when that stage was reached. A rather difficult problem. This is the result of a vast program of research. Each of us was injected with a liquid which our scientists discovered. It was first injected into organisms which could live a hundred thousand times the period specified and still be observed. If it worked and they came out of the cataleptic state then we knew it would work with us. And as you have seen ...."

  Lafarge threw his hand out in an all-embracing gesture.

  "And all these tiny cribs contain people like yourself?"

  "Yes! A million of us. The Liktii were the greatest of all the races which lived on Mars. These green beings now living here are, at best, beasts. But we can utilize their strength in the work which must be done."

  "And what about the pipeline?" Lafarge asked.

  "Well, what about it?"

  "Do you know it is being used right now? And for about the same purpose? By the peoples of the planet Earth?"

  HAD THE Liktii eyebrows, Lafarge was certain they would have lifted. Only the voice became more unctious: "All this was taken into account. We realized that the scale of evolution would produce a thinking, inventive being on your planet. For it was very similar in structure to ours. And we even provided for that emergency, should it arrive, and we found on our awakening that Mars was occupied by the peoples of another world. For example, we knew we would be in need of workers. There was but a limited supply of the master liquid, enough only for, well, for us.... So we planted the seed which became after the many thousands of years the green race you know. And within the soul of these things we produced by artificial means, we planted the germ of memory which would never let them forget we were the master race. I will say that there was not a thing left undone."

  "No, there wasn't," Lafarge agreed. "Except maybe the fact that the world of the Earth produced creatures a bit different from yourselves. Perhaps in the eventual evolutive scale we would evolve to a state approximating yours. I can safely suppose so. But the one factor you might not have considered—the personal one—might make a vast difference in your plans."

  The Liktii's voice rose an octave: "Personal factor? How do you mean?"

  "The peoples of the Earth feel that these pipelines, these vast tunnels which contain pure energy, were a discovery of theirs. And that by right of discovery they belong to them. Are you prepared for war...?"

  "The probe of your words strikes deep. And I will answer. It isn't a matter of argument, nor a question of rights. These tunnels were built for us, by us, to provide a new life on a planet revitalized by the energy now contained in these tunnels. They belong to no other race, of Mars or any other planet. Nor will we consider any prior rights. There are none, either of discovery or conquest! Do I make myself clear?"

  "Perfectly," Lafarge said. "And is the attack on Fort Allen a physical symbol of your coming to power? Will you attack the large garrison at Meso?"

  "We will rid ourselves of all and any foreignors, on Meso or at any other place on Mars. Here! Come along, Earthman...."

  LAFARGE followed the crab-like creature scuttling along before him with mixed feelings. Part of it was revulsion, and part wonder that what the Liktii had told him could be and was, probably, true. The Liktii had given orders that the green men stay by the others of Lafarge's command. He knew Lafarge wouldn't attempt escape. The man had too much curiosity, too much desire to learn. And the Liktii was right. Escape from the depths of his prison, Lafarge realized, was not a matter of the moment. And certainly not of this moment.

 

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