Vulcan's Workshop

By Harl Vincent

Transcriber's Note: This e-text was produced from Astounding Stories, June, 1932. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. 

Savagely cursing, Luke Fenton reeled backward from the porthole, hisgreat hairy paws clapped over his eyes. No one had warned him, and hedid not know that total blindness might result from gazing too earnestlyinto the sun's unscreened flaming orb, especially with that body notmore than twenty million miles distant in space. 

[Sidenote: Mighty Luke Fenton swaggers defiantly in Vulcan's Workshop, most frightful of Martian prisons. ]

He did not know, in fact, that the ethership was that close: Luke hadnot the faintest notion of the vast distances of the universe or of theabsence of air in space which permitted the full intensity of thedazzling rays to strike into his optics unfiltered save by the thick butclear glass which covered the port. He knew only that the sun, evidentlyvery near, was many times its usual size and of infinitely greaterbrilliance. And he was painfully aware of the fact that thefantastically enlarged and blazing body had seared his eyeballs andcaused the floating black spots which now completely obscured hisvision. 

Stumbling in his blindness, he fell across the hard cot that was thesole article of furniture in the cell he had occupied for more than twoweeks. Lying there half dazed and with splitting head, he cursed theguard who had opened the inner cover of the port; cursed anew thefish-eyed Martian judge who had sentenced him to a term in Vulcan'sWorkshop. 

Several of Luke's thirty-eight years had been spent in jails and sundryother penal institutions devised by Earthman and Martian for thepunishment of offenders against the laws of organized society. And yetthey had failed to break his defiant spirit or to convince him of theinfallibility of his creed that might makes right. Nor had they takenfrom him the gorillalike strength that was in his broad squat body, themagnificent brute lustihood that made him a terror to police and citizenalike. Instead, the many periods of incarceration had only served toincrease his hatred of mankind and his contempt of the forces of law andorder. Especially was he contemptuous of the book-learning that gave theauthorities their power. 

As the pain back of his eyes abated, Luke could see dimly the shaft oflight that slanted down from the porthole to the bare steel floor. Hissight was returning, yet he lay there still, growling in his throat, hismind occupied with thoughts of his checkered past. 

 * * * * *

Steel-worker, mechanic, roustabout, he had worked in most of thepopulous cities of Earth and had managed to get into serious troublewherever he went. It was his boast that he had never killed a man exceptin fair fight. And yet, at thirty, finding himself wanted by the policeof a half dozen cities of Earth, he had signed up in the black gang of atramp ethership bound for Mars, knowing he would never return and caringnot at all. 

At first, he had been riotously happy in the changed life on the newworld. There had been plenty of soul-satisfying brawls and plenty ofchulco, the fiery Martian distillate. On his many and frequent jobsthere were excellent opportunities to rebel against authority, and hehad fomented numerous mutinies in which he was always victorious butwhich usually landed him in one of the malodorous Martian jails for amore or less extended stay. 

Then had come that final fracas in the Copau foundry on the bank ofCanal Pyramus. Overly optimistic, Luke's new boss had struck out at thechunky, red-headed Earthman during an inconsequential argument and hadpromptly measured his length in a sand pile as a hamlike fist crashedhome in return. They had picked up the foreman and taken him to theinfirmary where it was found that his skull was fractured and that hehad little chance for life. There were the red police after that, andLuke, single-handed, trounced four of them so soundly and thoroughlythat someone sent in a riot call. It had taken a dozen of the reservesto club him into submission at the last. 

That was too much for Martian justice. In pronouncing sentence the judgehad termed Luke an incurably vicious character and a menace to societysuch as the planet had never harbored. And Luke, his head swathed inbandages from which his wiry red hair bristled like the comb of agamecock, had grinned evilly and snarled his defiance. 

And so they were taking him to the dread prison camp known as Vulcan'sWorkshop, a mysterious place of horror and hardship from which noconvict had ever returned. Vaguely Luke knew that it was located onstill another world, away off somewhere in the heavens. He had seen thelips of men go white when they were condemned to its reputed torture, had heard them plead for death in preference. Yet its terrors had notawed him; they did not awe him now. He had beaten the law before; he'dbeat it again--even in Vulcan's Workshop. 

 * * * * *

A key rattled in the lock and Luke Fenton leaped to his feet, facing thebarred door with feet spread wide and with his massive shoulders hunchedexpectantly. He could see now, with much blinking and watering of hisstill aching eyes, and he looked out with sneering disapproval at thethree guards in the corridor. They were afraid of him, singly, theseMartian cops, even though armed with the deadly dart guns and withshot-loaded billies. So afraid, Luke chuckled inwardly, that they hadkept him from the other prisoners throughout the trip, kept him insolitary confinement. 

The door was opening and it came to Luke that the ethership wasstrangely and hollowly silent. The rocket tubes were stilled, that wasit, and even the motors that drove the great ventilating fans had beenstopped. They had arrived. 

No time now to start anything. He would have to submit tamely towhatever they might mete out to him in the way of punishment--until hegot the lay of the land. It would require some time to study things outand to plan. But plan he would, and act; they'd never hold him hereuntil he died of whatever it was that killed men quickly in Vulcan'sWorkshop. Not Luke Fenton. 

Sullenly docile, he was prodded forward to the air-lock. A draft of hotfetid air swept through the corridor, carrying with it the forewarningof unspeakable things to come. And a shriek of mortal terror wafted infrom outside by the stinking breeze, told of some poor devil alreadydemoralized. The thick muscles of Luke's biceps tightened to hard knotsunder his black prison jacket. 

 * * * * *

They were outside then and Luke essayed a deep breath, a breath that waschokingly acrid in his throat. 

"Waugh!" he coughed, and spat. One of the guards laughed. 

Any foul epithet that might have formed on Fenton's lips was forgottenin the sight that met his eyes. A barren and rugged terrain stretchedout from the landing stage, a land utterly desolate of vegetation andincapable of supporting life. Pockmarked with craters and seamed withyawning fissures from which dense vapors curled, it was seemingly devoidof habitation. And the scene was visible only in the lurid half light offlame-shot mists that hung low over all. In the all too near distance, awesomely vast and ruddy columns of fire rose and fell with monotonousregularity. For the first time, Luke experienced something of thesuperstitious fear exhibited by even the most hardened criminals whenfaced with a term at Vulcan's Workshop. That term, to them, meant horrorand misery, torture and swift death. And he, too, was ready to believeit now. 

He was prodded down an incline that led from the landing stage to therocks below. The guards from the ethership, he saw, remained behind onthe platform and there were new guards awaiting him below. Huskyfellows, these were, in strange bulky clothing and armed with thehighest powered dart guns. The other prisoners from the vessel werealready down there, a huddled and frightened mass--a squashed pile, almost--silent now and watchful of their jailers. 

 * * * * *

"Come on, show some speed, tough guy!" a guard yelled from the foot ofthe runway. "Think this is a reception?"

Another of the guards guffawed hoarsely, and Luke choked back theblasting retort that rose in his throat. Plenty of time yet before he'dbe ready to make things hot for those birds. 

The runway, he observed, was a strip of yielding metal that glowedfaintly with an unnatural greenish light. He was nearing its lower endwhen the siren of the ethership shrieked and he heard the clang of theouter door of its air-lock as it swung to its seat. 

Then he stepped out to the smooth stone slab on which the nearest of theguards was standing. Immediately it was as if a tremendous weight wasflung upon him, bearing him down until his knees buckled beneath him. Hewas rooted to the spot by an enormous force which dragged at his vitalsand weighted his limbs to leaden uselessness. With a mighty effort heraised his head to look up into the grinning yellow face of the guard, and his thick neck muscles were taut gnarled ridges under the strain. 

"Damn your hide!" he howled. "It's a trick. I'll break you in two forthis, you slob!"

His huge biceps tensed and his fists came up. But they came up slowlyand ineffectually, ponderous things he could scarcely lift. A greatroaring of rocket tubes was in his ears then, and the ethership screamedoff through the red mists while he dabbed futilely at the leering yellowface. And vile curses rasped from between his set teeth at the laughterof the guards. 

 * * * * *

Luke Fenton never had taken the trouble to learn or he would have knownsomething about this planet Vulcan on which he was a prisoner. As farback as 1859, by Earth chronology, its existence within the orbit ofMercury had been reported by one Lescarbault, a French physician. Butother astronomers had failed to confirm, in fact had ridiculed hisdiscovery, and it was not until some years after the establishing ofinterplanetary travel in the first decade of the twenty-first centurythat the body was definitely located. 

Vulcan, the smallest and innermost of the planets, circles the sun withgreat rapidity at a mean distance of twenty million miles. Its periodsof rotation and revolution are equal, so that it always presents thesame face toward the solar system's great center of heat and light--forwhich reason one side is terrifically hot and the other, that facinginto outer space, unbearably cold. 

There is no life native to the body, and mankind has found it possibleto exist only in the narrow belt immediately on the dark side of theterminator, the line of demarcation between night and day. Here thereare the dense vapors, illuminated perpetually by refracted light fromthe daylight side and by the internal fires of the planet itself, fireswhich erupt at regular intervals through many fissures and craters. Andit is only under greatest hardship that man can exist even here, whatwith the noxious gases and the extremes of heat and cold to which hisbody it subjected. There is no natural source of water or of food, sothese essentials must of necessity be conveyed from Mars or Earth byethership. 

In spite of all this, man has persisted in establishing himself in thevapor belt of Vulcan for the sake of wresting from the rocky soil itsvast deposits of rare ores, and a great number of mining operations arecontinually in progress. All of these are commercial projects and areworked by adventurous seekers of fortune, save only the penal colonyknown as Vulcan's Workshop: But no Terrestrial or Martian, howevergreedy for riches, would dare to remain longer than two lunar months, which is the average time limit of human endurance. Only the condemnedremain, and these remain to die. 

 * * * * *

Though hardly more than two hundred miles in diameter, Vulcan ispossessed of a surface gravity almost six times greater than that onEarth. This is due to the planet's core of neutronium, the densest knownsubstance of the universe, a little understood concentration of matterwhose atoms comprise only nuclei from which all negative electrons havebeen stripped by some stupendous cataclysm of nature. 

And so it was that Luke Fenton, uninsulated from the tremendous gravitypull when he stepped from the charged metal of the runway, wasstruggling against his own bodily weight, suddenly increased to morethan twelve hundred pounds. 

Doggedly, the Earthman pitted his mighty sinews against the force hecould not understand. Here was an intangible thing, yet it was a powerthat challenged his own brute strength, and he exerted himself to thelimit in accepting the challenge. With legs spread wide and with sweatoozing from every pore, he heaved himself erect, straightening knees andspine and standing there firmly on his two feet. 

"He's carrying it!" came the husky whisper of a guard. "This bird _is_tough. "

Craftily, Luke bared his white, even teeth in a good-humored grin. Hehad seen what they were doing with the other prisoners, fitting them oneby one with the strange bulky breeches--garments that gave forth a faintgreenish glow like that of the runway. And each of the men, so attired, was enabled somehow to get to his feet easily and walk about as ifunhampered by the force which had flattened him to the rocks and whichstill held Luke's straining body in its grip. 

 * * * * *

The yellow-skinned guard, a Terrestrial of Asiatic origin, was solemnlyengaged now in lacing the slitted legs of a similar garment to Luke'srigid nether limbs. Yet there was no cessation of that awful weight whenthe thing was done. The guard stepped back and leered wickedly. He hadslung his dart gun over his shoulder and now produced a slender blacktube which he leveled at Luke's midsection. 

"You walk now, Fenton, " he snarled. 

The Earthman rose upward as if he would leave the ground. Two or threeinches seemed added to his stature, and his muscles trembled from thesudden release. He stepped a pace forward. 

Then a light beam flashed forth from the black tube and Luke sagged downwith an astonished oath squeezed grunting from his throat. The swiftrenewal of the inexplicable force had caught him off balance and hedropped ignominiously to his knees. 

"Ha!" gloated the Oriental. "It is thus we control the tough ones, Fenton. I've given you a warning; now get up--and march!"

On the last word came blessed release and the return of Luke's strength. He marched, meekly falling in with the file of new prisoners. He evensmiled through the red stubble of his beard. But black hatred was in hisheart, and renewed determination that he'd get away from this placesomehow--alive. 

Time would show him the way. 

 * * * * *

Fenton's slow but retentive mind absorbed many things during thesucceeding few days. There was neither day nor night in this hellishplace--only the flame-lit mists; but they had clocks like those ofEarth, and you worked fourteen hours on the slope or in the smelter andhad the rest of each so-called day of twenty-four hours in which to eatand sleep. 

The food was coarse, but there was plenty of it. There was only water todrink, lukewarm stinking stuff, doled out sparingly in rusty tin cups. And, during the sleeping periods, you were required to take off thegravity-insulated garments and sleep in huts with insulated floorcoverings. The charged floor, of course, allowed you to sleep withoutbeing smashed flat on the uncomfortable cots. But they had you safe inthese sleeping huts; they took away your clothes and you couldn't stepout of the door without taking on the weight of a half a dozen men. 

The Workshop itself was in a vast excavation from whose slopes asilvery-veined ore was being removed. There were the blast furnace andreduction plant on the one side and the convicts' huts and morepretentious houses of the guards on the other. And the choking mists, and the lurid flame behind. The stifling heat, Luke learned, too, thatevery ninth day, with what they called the libration of Vulcan, therecame an equal period of raw and biting cold to replace the heat. As bador worse, that would be. 

There were perhaps three hundred prisoners here, Luke guessed, and aguard allotted to each squad of fifteen men. Not many guards for solarge a number of convicts--but enough. The weird gravity of Vulcan hadtaken care of that, and the flashlight things they always carried--queerlights that would instantly neutralize the insulating property of hisclothing and render a man helpless. 

 * * * * *

Luke was working high up on the slope, with rock drill and pick. Thegroup to which he had been assigned was composed entirely of newprisoners, mostly white men, but with a few blacks and onecoppery-skinned drylander of Mars. Whimpering, hopeless creatures, allof them; not worth his notice. All day he labored without speaking toany of them and the quantities of ore he removed gave mute evidence ofhis tireless vigor. If Kulan, the giant Martian guard, took any noticeof it he gave no sign. 

During the sleeping period, which they persisted in calling night, things were different. No guards were needed in the escape-proof hutsand there was some surreptitious fraternizing among the prisoners. Aslong as they made no undue noise, they were left to their own devices. But for the most part they went to sleep heavily and wordlessly as soonas they flung into their bunks. A broken-spirited lot. 

Luke saw men suffering from some horrible malady that made them coughand scream and bleed from nose and mouth. Old-timers, these were, menwho had survived for as many as three of four months. He saw them, intheir agony, beg the guards for merciful death; heard the brutallaughter of their tormentors. Only when they were no longer able to risefrom their bunks were they put out of their misery by one of the singingdarts from the senior guard's gun. 

Novak had it, this malady known as X. C. --Novak, the scar-faced, yellow-fanged rat who occupied the bunk beneath Luke's and who talked tohim in hoarse whispers long after the others had gone to sleep. It wasfrom Novak that Luke was learning, and the knowledge he gained bylistening to the doomed man served only to intensify the flame of hatethat smoldered deep in his barrel-like chest. 

After three red-lit days of grueling labor and three similarly red-litnights of listening to Novak, he reached the grudging conclusion thatescape from this place was impossible. With this conviction there cameto him a deeper bitterness and the resolve that he, Luke Fenton, wouldhave his revenge before he went the way of the rest. 

Perhaps the law had him for keeps this time--it certainly seemed so; buthe'd leave his mark on its representatives yet. 

 * * * * *

At inspection preceding the next labor period, Luke began doing things. 

The prisoners were lined up and the guards were parading the line, reassigning them to new working squads, which were shifted andrearranged every third day. Kulan, the big Martian, selected Luke. 

"You, Fenton, " he snapped, "ten paces forward. "

Luke grinned but made no move. 

Amazed, the guard stepped closer. "You heard me!" he roared. "I'mkeepin' you in my squad, tough guy. "

A ripple of astonished comment ran along the line and the other guardsbellowed for silence. Kulan fingered the black tube of his neutro-beamand his broad face was chalky white. 

Luke advanced two paces, still grinning. And he looked up sneeringlyinto the grim face that was a foot above his own. 

"That's right, you big ape, " he grated, "you ain't man enough to fightthe way men fight. Gotta use dart guns, or gravity. "

It was sheer baiting of the big Martian. Fenton was shrewd and he knewthe fellow's kind, quick to resent insult and prouder of their physicalsize and prowess than of any other possession. He saw the flush thatrose to replace the guard's pallor, saw the huge lithe body go tense. Laughing derisively, he completed his ten paces with leisurely aplomb. 

Speechless with rage, Kulan stood rigid. Furtive boos and a few hoarsecheers came from somewhere in the long line of convicts, and Luke sawseveral men flattened to the ground by swift darting neutro-beams. 

And then the head guard came running from the small bastion. "What thehell?" he demanded of Kulan. "Any trouble?"

Kulan saluted, and his eyes were narrow slits. "No sir, " he returnedstiffly, "no trouble. "

Eyeing Luke suspiciously, the senior guard grunted, then moved on alongthe line. And the work of reallotting squads went on. 

 * * * * *

It was exactly as Fenton had expected. This Kulan, a head over him instature and broad in proportion, was sure in his mind that he couldhandle the red-headed Earthman without resort to weapons. And the tauntas to his physical ability had struck home. In some way that guard wouldmaneuver matters so the encounter could come about. Besides, he wouldendeavor to keep Luke in his squad where he would be able to drive himto the utmost. The guards, Novak had said, were on the job only a monthwhen they were replaced by fresh recruits--and their pay was based onthe productivity of the squads they commanded. Kulan had seen that theEarthman was a real sapper; worth three of the others. And he'd try tokeep it so. 

That working period was a highly gratifying one to Luke. With therankling hatred concentrated and directed at Kulan, he was positivelygleeful. And yet he was content to bide his time. He swung his pick andwielded his rock drill with joyful abandon, so that three men were keptbusy loading the ore he removed. 

Kulan, he saw with satisfaction, was sullen and watchful. But no wordpassed between the two. And the Earthman knew he had planted a seed thatwas bound to sprout and grow until it bore fruit. 

 * * * * *

At the midday mess it happened. The shifting of men had brought Novak inthe same squad with Luke and they came in to sit at the long tabletogether. Kulan eyed them narrowly from the head of the board. 

"Say, " Novak whispered, "yuh got under Kuley's skin, know it? He'll runyuh ragged. "

"Yes?" Luke looked up at the guard, saw he was scowling darkly in theirdirection, and grinned evilly. "I'll run him, you mean. I'll bust him intwo if I get my hands on him. "

"Yuh ain't got a chance, I tell yuh. I seen a guy once, take a poke at aguard, and what they done to him was plenty. They----"

With that, the wasted body of Novak bent double and he dropped to theground screaming. Blood gushed from his nostrils. Luke had seen the samething happen to several others and he knew what to expect. It was allover for Novak, or nearly over. 

Kulan came running and turned the stricken man face up. 

"You'll last another period, " he snarled. "Get up and eat. "

He yanked Novak to his feet and shook him as he would a sack of meal. The sick man moaned and begged, his head rolling from side to side andhis eyes filmed with pain. 

"Let me have it, " he whimpered. "I'm done, I tell yuh Kuley. GetGannett, if yuh don't believe me. "

Kulan slapped him heavily with the flat of his massive hand. "You'llwork another period, sewer rat, if I have to prop you up!"

Then Luke Fenton took a chance. He didn't care particularly for Novak, nor was he overly concerned by what might happen to him. But this gavehim an excuse, an opening. 

He hooked his thick fingers in the collar of Kulan's jacket and twisteduntil the big Martian loosed Novak and whirled around. Then Luke drove ahard fist to his jaw--a pulled punch so as not to betray his realstrength. Nevertheless it set the guard back on his heels and split thetaut skin where it landed. 

 * * * * *

Pandemonium broke loose in the mess hall. Gannett, the senior guard, came bellowing down the aisle, and the squad guards were on their feetin an instant, neutro-tubes and dart guns ready. The uproar of theprisoners died down. 

Kulan shook his shaggy head and crouched low as he circled the Earthman. Murder was in his heart, and the urge to break this tough guy Fentonwith his bare hands. But Gannett was between them. 

"Hell's bells!" he yelped. "What goes on here?"

Then he saw Novak--and heard him. Novak was writhing on the ground, begging for death. And the chief guard's dart gun twanged as itsneedlelike missile sped forth and drove into the sick man's breast whereit sang its shrill song of vibratory dissolution. 

In the twinkling of an eye where Novak had lain was only the dust ofcomplete disintegration and a few scintillating, dancing light flecksthat swiftly snuffed out. A speedy and merciful end. 

In the silence that followed, Gannett turned on Kulan. "Why didn't yousend for me?" he demanded. 

The guard, white with rage, indicated Luke. 

"So--the tough guy Fenton again. Can't you handle him?"

Kulan's yellow eyes flashed fire. "Sure I can; I will. But I want yourpermission, sir. With my hands. "

"No, "--flatly. And then Gannett whirled to look over the mess tables, whence a few scattered hisses had arisen. 

His gaze was solemn when he returned it to Kulan. Swiftly his black eyesmeasured the Martian's giant body, and then they swung to Luke. Thecomparison evidently pleased him, for he changed his mind. 

"On second thought, yes, " he said to Kulan. "It'll be good fordiscipline. Only don't disable him; he's too valuable a worker. "

Luke concealed his unholy glee; stood glowering savagely. "In fairfight?" he put in. 

"In fair fight, " sneered Gannett. He took personal charge of Kulan'sweapons. "All right, you, " he yelled then to the mess, "you can watchthis. But if there's a sound or a move from any one of you there'll bethe neutro-broadcast and full gravity for an hour for the wholeflea-bitten gang of you. "

He drew back, motioning Luke and Kulan to an open space nearby. Therewas not the slightest doubt in his mind as to the outcome, for theMartian towered over his stocky opponent and was fully fifty poundsheavier. This irregular procedure would put a stop to some of the openhomage paid to this reputed tough guy by the prisoners, and to therestlessness among them which his coming had occasioned. 

 * * * * *

They fought instantly and with silent deadliness of purpose, these two. Luke drove in two terrible blows to the big Martian's body in thesplit-second before they closed, breathtaking punches that rocked Kulanyet did not slow him up in the least. And then the tangle of arms andlegs and bodies of the two was so swift moving and violent that thewatchers could not follow them. 

Now they were up, slugging, clinching; now down, rolling over and over, straining and tearing at each other like beasts of the jungle. Once, breaking free, Luke was seen to batter Kulan's face to a bloody masswith swift, hammering fists that thudded too rapidly to count. And thenthe Martian had flung him to the rocky ground so heavily that it seemedcertain the Earthman's end had come. But such was not the case, forthere was a flailing scramble and Luke Fenton rose up with the greatbody of Kulan across his shoulders. He spread his legs wide and heavedmightily. 

The Martian guard kicked and squirmed, lashing out with his huge fistsat the squarely-built and squarely-planted body of the Earthman belowhim. But to no avail. Grasping a shoulder and a thigh, Fentonstraightened his thick arms and Kulan was hoisted aloft. Amazingly then, the madly struggling guard was flung out and away to land with asickening thud, smashed and crumpled on the rocks. 

Luke stood swaying on those spreadeagled legs and his lungs were nearbursting from the exertion in the noxious atmosphere. "There you are, Gannett, " he howled through swollen lips. "That fair enough for you?"

In the ominous silence a cracked voice yelped: "Attaboy Fenton!"

Wild disorder followed. Immediately there was the raucous call of thegeneral alarm siren and a flashing light from the bastion that paled thered mists to a sickly, luminous pink. Full gravity coming down withcrushing force on the hapless prisoners. 

Luke, as he was flattened, gasping painfully under the enormouspressure, saw that Gannett and the rest of the guards were not affectedby the neutro-broadcast. They stood erect and moved freely among theprisoners who sprawled everywhere in grotesque squashed heaps. Queer. There was no way of beating the authorities at this game. 

 * * * * *

Gannett transferred Luke to the dreaded sealed cell in the reductionplant, a room spoken of in hushed whispers by the convicts, and in whichit was reported an inmate suffered indescribable tortures for the betterpart of three weeks. Then he died in horrible misery, for one could notsurvive longer than that. 

Kulan had not been killed. He would recover, but was pretty well smashedup, with a fractured hip and several broken ribs, one of which hadpunctured a lung. It would be necessary to return him to Mars on thenext ethership, due in two days. Strangely, the news brought Luke nogreat amount of satisfaction. 

When they locked him up in the sealed cell for his first period of laborhe saw there was only one other occupant. A tall lanky Earthman withnarrow aristocratic features and keen gray eyes. He was perhapsforty-five, slightly stooped, and with thin graying hair. Luke had seenhim several times at mess and had contemptuously classed him as ahighbrow. Fuller, his name was. 

This was a small room where several slender chutes brought down tumblingcrystals of a silvery salt from somewhere above, emptying it into glasscontainers that stood in endless rows in wooden racks. You filled thesecontainers with the salt, then sealed them in lead tubes and packed themfor shipment. There was a faint pungent odor in the air of the room, anew smell that widened Luke's nostrils and caught at his throat andlungs. 

In this place you were watched by a guard who came regularly each halfhour and spied on you through a peephole. 

Child's play, the work in the sealed cell. Luke went at ithalf-heartedly and he spoke no word to Fuller after the heavy door hadclosed them in. After ten minutes of silence he caught himself watchinghis companion furtively. 

What was there about Fuller that marked him as superior to Luke and therest of the convicts? A good gust of wind would blow the man away; awoman might easily beat him in a rough and tumble. Yet this man hadsomething which unmistakably proclaimed greatness, the same somethingthat gave authority and power to the smart guys of Earth and Mars. Brains--book-learning! Luke snorted. 

Fuller was looking at him with calmly appraising gaze. Luke scowleddarkly, but the keen eyes that measured him did not waver. 

"You're a fool, Fenton, " came from the thin lips. 

"What!" Luke advanced threateningly. 

"I repeat: you are a fool. " Still the gray eyes were unwavering. 

"Why, you--you----" Spasmodically Luke's fingers closed down on thespare shoulder with crushing force. 

 * * * * *

By not so much as the flicker of an eyelash did Fuller betray the painthat must have come with that grip. He did not even wince, but swiftlylashed out with a bony fist, raking Luke's cheek with sharp knuckles. The blow stung, but was utterly futile. With a single cuff Luke couldsend the man sprawling; with a single wrench of his powerful hands, snaphis spine. Yet he did neither, and the impulse to laugh coarsely died inhis throat. Here was courage of a kind he never had encountered; here aman in whose bright eyes fearlessness and defiance mingled with a cooldisdain that brought the first real feeling of inferiority Luke ever hadexperienced. 

He relaxed his grip of Fuller's shoulder and his big hands fell looselyat his sides. It was that action which saved Fenton. He did not know itat the time, nor would he have believed it. But he was to remember manytimes and finally to realize it, though he never fully understood. 

"That's better, " breathed Fuller. And the ghost of a smile crinkled thecorner of his mouth. 

At the old man's warning Luke returned to his own work bench and wasindustriously engaged when the guard's eye showed at the peephole. Thenthe eye was gone and he grinned over at Fuller. 

"How long you been in here?" he ventured. 

"Five days in the sealed cell; ten altogether in the Workshop. "

Luke pondered this. "How'd you get in the cell?"

"Same way you did--I struck a guard. "

"No!" marveled Luke. "Mean to tell me you----"

"I had a reason to get in here, " Fuller broke in mildly. 

"You--you _wanted_ to get in?" Luke was incredulous. 

"I did. "

"My God, you ain't crazy, are you--wantin' to get yourself killed offquicker?"

 * * * * *

"No, that isn't it, " Fuller explained patiently. "I've a plan to escapeand only by taking the chance of spending some time here could I obtainaccess to the necessary materials. Fenton, I'm a scientist and Iknow----"

"Escape!" Luke snorted. "You _are_ crazy. Where you goin' to go?"

"Listen, Fenton. " The other dropped his voice. "I'm not doing thisblindly; I have friends outside. And you can help me. You can get awayyourself, alive. I called you a fool and by that I meant that you haverelied too much on brute force in your lifetime and had not sense enoughto realize that this brought only trouble. Combine your brawn with mybrains, now, and do as I say--if you will I promise you freedom. Willyou do it, or do you want to keep on being a fool?"

Luke bristled, but the earnestness of that steady gaze served to checkhis rising temper. "I still think you're nuts, " he growled, "but hell, Iain't fool enough to pass up any kind of chance of gettin' outa here. Gimme the dope. "

Fuller coughed slightly and a fleck of red-tinged foam appeared at hislips. "It'll have to be to-day, " he whispered. "One more day in thisplace and it'll be too late for me. "

X. C. ! Luke stared, horrified. Fuller had it already and didn't know it. Poor devil; he was a goner before he started this crazy break of his. Strangely, Luke was deeply concerned. It was a new experience, thisfeeling of compassion for a fellow man. 

"To-day!" he grunted. "You ain't figurin' on gettin' out to-day?"

"Positively--it must be to-day. I'll explain. "

 * * * * *

Much of what followed was unintelligible to Luke Fenton, but he absorbedenough of the scientist's explanation to understand that his plan wasnot impossible of realization. He waxed enthusiastic. 

Tom Fuller was vague concerning his own past, but Luke gathered that apolitical crime had been responsible for his sentence to the Workshop. There was much bitterness in the scientist's refusal to dwell on thispoint. This, too, Luke was able to understand. The bond between themstrengthened. 

"It's like this, " Fuller told him: "these suits which enable us to moveabout comfortably in Vulcan's gravity are really quite simple in theirfunctioning. A maze of fine wires is woven into the fabric, and thesewires are charged with anti-gravity energies from tiny capsules whichare inserted under the belt of the garment. The capsules are reallyminiature atomic generators and are replaced with fresh ones each nightduring the sleeping period, since the initial charge lasts only eighteenhours. The generated energies neutralize more than eighty percent of theeffect of gravity and our weight thus becomes approximately the same asit is on Earth. Such garments are worn by all prospectors and othervisitors to Vulcan. "

"How come the neutro-beams?" asked Luke. 

They are used only here in the Workshop and they operate the same as theneutro-broadcast from the bastion, the only difference being that thebroadcast blankets an area of about two miles in all directions. In bothcases vibratory ether waves are sent out and these are of such frequencyand wave form as to neutralize the anti-gravity energies originating inour capsules. They render our suits useless, but those of the guards areprovided with insulating coverings which block off the waves and thuspermit their own garments to function even when the neutro-broadcast isin operation. "

"Smart guys, " commented Luke. "Too smart. How the devil we gonna getaway, then? They'll send out the alarm and----"

"Ah, that is where we fool them, Fenton. With the radium. "

"Radium!"

 * * * * *

"Yes, didn't you know? This ore we mine here contains a higherpercentage of that valuable element than any on Earth or Mars. Itsemanations, together with certain atmospheric gases of Vulcan, are whatcause X. C. --a swift destruction of tissue in the lungs and other vitalorgans. And this concentrate"--Fuller waved his hand toward the rows oftubes before him--"is most highly radioactive of all the products of theWorkshop. That is why the sealed cell is so very dangerous to work in. But it is this radioactive salt that gives us the means for escape----"

Both men turned quickly to their labors on hearing the footsteps of theguard. 

"My suit is already prepared, " continued Fuller, when the eye had gonefrom the peephole. "Now to prepare yours. I discovered that thisradioactivity can be used to defeat the purpose of the neutro-rays aswell or better than the regular insulation, which, of course, we can notobtain. That is why I wanted to be in the sealed cell for a time. Wemerely pack a quantity of the radioactive salt around the capsules inthe lining of our garments, and the radium emanations continue theexcitation of the tiny atomic generators even under the influence of theneutralizing vibrations. Do you follow me?"

"Yes. "

Luke did comprehend, even though the technical explanation was beyondhis understanding. They would be able to defy this terrible gravity ofVulcan. They could fight unhampered; walk, or run--to meet thesemysterious friends of Fuller's. The flashlights and the broadcast wouldbe useless against them. 

The lanky scientist outlined the further details of his plan in swiftwhispers while he worked with the energizing capsule of Luke's garment. 

 * * * * *

Actual escape was surprisingly easy. They waited until the labor periodwas finished, when Chan Dai, the yellow-skinned guard, came to unlockthe door. As agreed, Tom Fuller came out first and Luke held back, dragging his feet and cursing softly to himself. 

"What'd you say?" the guard snarled. 

Luke grinned disarmingly. "Nothin', " he drawled. Still he hung back, scarcely moving from where he stood just within the door. 

"Come on, tough guy, a little speed. " Chan Dai reached for him. 

And then Luke was upon him. The neutro-beam flashed harmlessly. Luke'sbig hands moved with lightning swiftness, his left one scooping theguard's dart gun from its shoulder strap and his right closing on theastonished Oriental's wind-pipe. It was the work of only an instant tochoke him in unconsciousness and lock him in the sealed cell. 

"Quick, the chute!" hissed Fuller. He dived head foremost into arectangular wooden trough that was used for the disposal of the ganguefrom a crushing mill above. This chute, Fuller had said, led to theoutside at the back of the reduction plant. 

Across the passage Luke saw a squad of convicts and two guards emergingfrom the lift. Then he plunged down the steeply inclined trough afterFuller. As he slid and tumbled into the darkness, he heard the hoarseshouting of the guards. 

He landed heavily in the pile of gangue at the base of the chute; thenwas scrambling and slipping down with an avalanche of the sharp edgedstone. At the bottom, he saw that Fuller had already started up theslope of the great pit which enclosed the Workshop. Luke darted afterhim. 

 * * * * *

They were hidden from the bastion by the buildings of the smelter andreduction plant. But the loud yelling of guards back there in the pitgave evidence that word of the escape was being passed along to Gannett. Before they were halfway up the slope there was the shriek of the alarmsiren, and Luke felt his body sag with a sudden increase of weight. Foolthat he had been to trust the scrawny scientist!

"It's the broadcast, " panted Fuller, beside him. There is some effect, of course. You're probably carrying fifty extra pounds. "

"Huh!" Luke hoped it would be no worse. 

Fuller slipped into a narrow crevasse that ran slantwise of the slopeand extended upward to the rim of the pit. The going was much easierhere and they made rapid progress toward the top. Suddenly Luke realizedthat it was growing very cold; there was a bite to the foul air, andmoisture from the red mist was frosting his beard. The liberation of thetiny planet and consequent shifting of the terminator was bringingfrigidity to Vulcan's Workshop. 

They came up out of the crevasse at the top of the pit and Luke couldnot resist looking back. Every convict in sight was flattened to theground. They sprawled singly and in heaps, each one a squashed inertthing that would not move again until the neutro-broadcast wasdiscontinued. The guards, confident they would find the escapedprisoners in like condition, were searching the slope below them. 

Luke raised Chan Dai's, dart gun to his shoulder. 

Fuller struck aside the muzzle of the weapon. "No!" he protested, "Nounnecessary killing, Fenton. They're completely fooled, and we'll bewell on our way before they know the truth. "

Grumbling, Luke drew back from the rim of the excavation. 

 * * * * *

Up here the ground was fairly level, but there were many fissures andsmall craters which made the footing precarious. The mists were so densethey could see scarcely two hundred feet ahead. 

"We'll be lost in the vapors when they finally wake up and come outafter us, " Fuller said. "And look Fenton, off there to the left are thethree columns of fire that mark the rendezvous. "

They plunged on through the red mist toward the flaming pillars. Thosebeacons, even though they subsided at regular intervals, quicklyreappeared after each cessation. And their brilliance penetrated themists with ease at this distance of about two miles. There was no fearof missing their destination. 

"Sure your friends'll be there?" Luke asked doubtingly. He was beginningto have some misgivings about the matter--the scientist had beenanything but explicit as to who these friends were. And the longer histhoughts dwelt upon the things Fuller had told him the more suspicioushe became. Pretty cagey about everything but the actual getting awayfrom the Workshop, Fuller had been. 

"Certainly they will; they've been waiting two days. " Fuller's tone wasimpatient and his words came painfully. "You leave that part of it tome, Fenton, " he gasped. There was a fleck of blood at his lips. 

As the scientist stumbled on through the mists, Luke's doubts increasedand he began to lose his respect for the man's intellect and for thecunning which had enabled him to outwit the neutralizing energies usedby the guards. After all, he was a weak and puny specimen. They allwere, the smart guys who held the people of two worlds in their power byexercising the knowledge they had learned from books. And this one hadfailed even in that; whatever he might have been, he had run afoul ofthe law himself and was already a doomed man. Tricks! This trick ofFuller's had gotten them away, but of what use was it without the bruteforce necessary to carry on to a successful end?

The brawn Tom had spoken of so slightingly was what they needed fromthis time on, and nothing else would save them. Luke had that brawn;Fuller did not. The scientist slipped and nearly lost his balance at theedge of a fissure, but Luke made no move to help him. It was every manfor himself at this stage of the game. 

 * * * * *

Increasing difficulty came with every step. Now they were sliding androlling into a deep crater, now scrambling up its steep sides with handstorn and bodies bruised by the jagged boulders. A yawning crevasseopened before them and they were forced to skirt its edge for fully ahalf mile in the wrong direction before they found a crossing. And thecold was unbelievably intense. Numbed and silent, with their eyes halfblinded and lungs seared by the frosty air, they struggled on toward thethree pillars of flame. 

And still Tom Fuller carried on, though Luke was now in the lead. 

They had covered probably half the distance to the flaming columns whenshouts arose behind them. The guards were on their trail. 

"Can't--find us, " Fuller panted. "The mists----"

"Hell, the mists are clearing, " Luke snarled. "You ain't so damn smartas you think. "

What he said was true. Though there was less light on account of the newangle with the sun farther below the horizon, the red mist wasdefinitely lighter in color, noticeably less dense. Visibility was goodto several hundred yards. Luke turned his head, but could see nothing oftheir pursuers. 

"They can't, " Fuller insisted weakly. 

Luke, pushed on with renewed vigor, ignoring him, cursing. 

And then there came faintly to his ears the twang of a dart gun; theshrill scream of its deadly vibrating missile; a violent blow that flunghim headlong. 

 * * * * *

Like a cat, he bounced to his feet, crouching with Chan Dai's dart gunat his shoulder. A strangely grotesque heap was at his feet--Tom Fuller. Off there in the thinning mist he saw a shadowy figure and he fired atit twice. Whether his darts found their mark he was never to know, for awall of white swept down suddenly to obscure his vision. Snow! Greatmassed flakes falling endlessly--the moisture of the mist crystallizedand closing in on him to hide him even more safely, than had the miststhemselves. 

He was on his knees then at Fuller's side. A brilliant flash and ascreaming roar over amongst the rocks apprised him of the fact that theguard's dart had gone wide. And yet Fuller was down, moaning with pain. Luke tried to turn him over and found that his body had taken ontremendous weight. He was flattened, crushed to the rocky surface ofVulcan by the full force of its gravity!

"What the devil!" he grunted as he heaved and strained. "What'd they doto you, old man?"

With great effort he succeeded in turning the scientist face up. Then hesaw what had happened, and knew in a flash that Fuller had saved himfrom the singing dart whose energy was making a sizzling puddle of thestones where it had landed. The missile, in passing, had carried awaythe belt and part of the fabric of Tom's garment--carried away thecapsule and the radium that energized it. Made the thing worse thanuseless. And Fuller had done this for him; he had flung himself uponLuke to shove him out of the line of fire ... Risking his own lifegladly ... Lucky the deadly dart had missed his body, but.... 

 * * * * *

"You go on, Fenton, " the scientist was whispering through lips that wereblue and stiff. "Leave me here. I'm licked. But you can carry on thework; go to my friends and tell them--everything. Tell them what you sawback there--tell them----"

"Shut up!" Luke's words were softly growled. There was a new and utterlyunaccountable huskiness in his voice as he straddled the prone body andlocked his strong fingers underneath. "You ain't gonna be left behind, "he grunted. "We're goin' on, brother, together. "

His back straightened and Fuller was swung clear of the ground. His hugebiceps tensed and the scrawny scientist was in the air, up and above thebowed head, then let down gently to rest across the broad shoulders ofLuke Fenton. Fuller hung there, bent double by the immense weight ofhim, crushed to painful contact with the taut muscles that carried thestrain. 

On Earth, Fuller might have tipped the scales at a scant one hundred andthirty pounds; now his sagging body was a load in excess of sevenhundredweight. With that load upon him, and glorying in the effort itcost, Luke staggered on toward the triple red glow, which, even in theblinding whiteness of the snowfall, marked the location of the columnsof fire. 

That all feeling had left his limbs in the deep-biting cold meantnothing; that his lungs were near bursting under the terrific strainmeant even less. Luke Fenton had found a man. One he would fight for, not against. And, miraculously, he had found himself. 

 * * * * *

After that there was a blur of interminable torture. Reeling andstumbling, his leg and back muscles shot through with stabbing pain asthe frost worked slowly upward, Luke plodded doggedly ahead. Anoccasional shout came from far behind where the guards still searchedthe rocky plateau. 

Across his great shoulders, Luke's burden was a dead weight, ofcorpselike rigidity and stillness. Yet Luke clung to it tenaciously, disposing the drooping leaden limbs as comfortably as possible by thejudicious spreading of his own brawny arms. 

Fuller, he was sure, had not long to live in any event. X. C. Hadalready progressed to such a point that it was hardly possible he couldrecover. And yet, these smart guys Luke always had detested--the doctorsand surgeons and such--they might be able to do something for the poordevil. Anyway, he determined, he'd get the scientist to his friends deador alive, and he'd see to it that they treated him right. If theydidn't.... 

The red glow was suddenly very bright and a silvery metallic shapeloomed up before him in the whiteness. An ethership! Luke tried to callout but his bellowing voice was gone; only faint gurgling sounds camefrom his throat. He pushed forward with a savage summoning of his lastounce of energy and Fuller's weight was that of a mastodon upon him. Thecurved hull of the vessel was overhead when he slipped and fell to oneknee in the thick carpet of snow. 

Luke saw them then, a dozen strangers running from the open air-lock ofthe ship. In uniform, some of them--government officials of Earth andMars. Damn them, it was a trap!

Knowing vaguely that they had surrounded him, he let Fuller slip fromhis shoulders and lowered him gently to the snow. Lurching to his feet, he stood swaying above the scientist's body, ready to defend thehelpless man against any who came to take him. Defiant curses died inhis paralyzed throat as darkness swooped down to blot out allconsciousness. His steel-sinewed body, beaten at last, slumpedprotectingly over the lanky form of his new-found friend. 

 * * * * *

When Luke next saw the light he stared long and hard at immaculate whitewalls and ceiling that shut him in. A gentle purring was in his ears andhe knew he was in an ethership that was under way. He lay weak andhelpless beneath snowy covers, on an iron hospital bed. 

There were voices in the room, hushed, awed voices, and Luke moved hishead painfully to stare across the room. Fuller, he saw, was stretchedon another cot, pale and still. And a white-clad nurse was there, bending over him, talking softly to a doctor. The words that passedbetween them brought enlightenment to Luke--and more. They brought a newelation, and understanding, and hope. 

When the doctor and nurse had left, Luke lay for a long time with histhoughts. There was a man--Tom Fuller. Unafraid, as an agent of aspecial governmental committee investigating prison conditions he hadvolunteered to get the evidence on Vulcan's Workshop. And he had doneit, even though it was almost certain that his own life was to be theprice. He had dared the misery and hardship, dared X. C. And thehorrible death it brought, that this hellhole of Vulcan might beexposed, that it might be wiped out of existence by governmentagreement. Vulcan's Workshop, where the gold dust of a certain politicalclique, brought torture and disease and extinction to hapless prisonerswho might otherwise be remade into useful members of society by the useof scientific methods--all this was to be no more. 

Fuller had succeeded where many others had failed. And Fuller was not todie. Only one of his lungs had been affected by X. C. And this not tooextensively to respond to treatment. Many months of careful attendancewould be required, and many more months of convalescence. But Fuller, they were sure, would live, Luke gloated. 

From what he had heard, Luke gathered that there was to be no troubleabout his own pardon. Oddly enough, this gave him no satisfaction. Something had happened to him--inside. For the first time he realisedhis debt to society and would have preferred that just sentence becarried out upon him. But not in that place, not in Vulcan's Workshop!Luke shuddered. 

 * * * * *

And lying there, he swore a mighty oath that the remainder of his lifewas to be devoted to entirely different pursuits. It was not too late toface about, not too late to learn. If Fuller would help him, he _would_learn. He had acquired a healthy respect for the book-learning heformerly ridiculed, and he wanted some of it for himself--as much as hecould get. His old creed was forgotten, and his bitterness vanished. 

"Luke!" At the scientist's husky whisper he turned his head. Fuller wasgazing at him with wide, solemn eyes. 

"Thanks, Luke, " the thin lips murmured. 

"Thanks yourself. Where'd we be right now if it wasn't for your radium?"

There was silence as they regarded one another. 

"I need you, Luke, " Fuller whispered then, "in my laboratory back home. I'll be laid up for a long time, you know, and there's much to be done. Your brawn and my brain--we'll both profit. What do you say to that, Fenton, will you do it?"

Luke grinned. "Will I? Just watch me!"

Then, with a queer lump choking him, Luke looked away. He could think ofno words to suit the occasion; he couldn't think at all somehow. 

Blissfully, he fell asleep.