III + 

Garth knuckled under. There was nothing else to do. He knew Brown wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, and, after all, what the devil did Paula Trent mean to him? Her life was unimportant, compared to the hopeless quest that had quickened in his mind, despite himself. + 

For Doc Willard might still be alive. Even if he wasn’t, there was that notebook the Doc had always carried around with him⁠—a book that contained the medico’s theories about the Silver Plague. Even if that ghastly dreamlike memory were not merely delirium⁠—even if Garth, witless and unknowing, had killed Willard⁠—there was always that dim, desperate chance that the cure for the Plague might be found in the Black Forest. + 

So⁠—damn Paula Trent! She didn’t matter, when the lives of millions might depend on Garth’s penetrating the jungle that had baffled him for five years. + 

Without a word he turned and started back, Brown keeping close beside him. The huge chamber loomed before them, filled with its cryptic shadows. There was time now to see what they had missed in their quick flight a few moments ago⁠—though not much time, for pursuit might start at any minute. + 

Dead silence, and darkness, broken by the crossing beams of the brilliant lamps. Garth listened. + 

“Hear anything?” + 

Brown shook his head. + 

“Nothing.” + 

“Okay. We’ll try this way.” + 

Then went into a passage that sloped down, ending in a vaulted room larger than the first. Brown swung up his gun abruptly as a figure seemed to leap from blackness in the ray of the lamp. Garth caught his arm. + 

“Robot. Unpowered. They’re all over the city.” + 

The robots⁠—slaves of the Ancients, Garth thought, who had died with them, lacking the fuel that could quicken them to life. No Earthly scientists had ever been able to analyze the construction of the machines, for they were built of an alloy that was apparently indestructible. Acid and flame made no impression on the smooth, glittering black surface. + 

This one, like all the others, was roughly man-shaped, nearly eight feet tall, and with four arms, the hands extended into limber jointed fingers almost like tentacles. From the mask-like face complex glassy eyes stared blankly. It stood motionless, guarding a world that no longer needed guardians. + 

With a little shrug Garth went on, his ears alert for sounds. From the walls bizarre figures in muraled panels watched. Those murals showed a world of incredibly advanced science, Garth knew. He had seen them before. He spared them not a glance now. + 

The machines⁠— + 

What were they? They loomed like dinosaurs in the endless chain of high-domed vaults. They had once given Chahnn power and life and strength. The murals showed that. The Ancient Race had used antigravity⁠—a secret unknown to Earthmen⁠—and they had created food by the rearrangement of atomic patterns, not even requiring hydroponic tank cultures. They had ruled this world like gods. + 

And they had passed with no trace, leaving only these silent monuments to their greatness. With the power of the Ancients, Earth’s lack of fuel-reserves would not matter. If the secret of atomic power could be found again, these machines would roar into thundering life⁠—and machines like them would rise on Earth. + 

Power and greatness such as civilization had never known! Power even to reach the stars! + 

And⁠—Garth thought wryly⁠—a power that would be useless unless a cure for the Silver Plague could be found. + 

He was almost running now, his footsteps and Brown’s echoing hollowly in the great rooms. Silently he cursed Paula Trent. There were other levels below, many of them, and she might be down there⁠—which would make the task almost impossible. + 

A distant flicker of light jerked Garth to a halt. He switched off his lamp, motioning for Brown to do the same. + 

It came again, far away, a firefly glimpse. + 

“Paula?” the Captain said. + 

“Guess so. Unless they’re after us already.” + 

“Take it easy, then.” + 

They went on, running lightly on their toes. The light had vanished, but Garth knew the way. Suddenly they came out of a short tunnel into one of the great rooms, and relief flooded Garth as he saw Paula’s face, pale in reflected light, a dozen feet away. + 

Simultaneously a faint sound came rhythmically⁠—like dim drums. + 

Garth said sharply, “Hear that? Men coming down a ramp. Get the girl and let’s go!” + 

But Paula was already coming toward them, blinking in the glare. “Who’s that? Carver? I⁠—” + 

Brown gripped her arm. “There’s no time to talk now, Paula. We’re in a jam. Keep your mouth shut and come along. Garth, can you get us back to that secret passage?” + 

“Maybe. It’ll be blind luck if we make it. Turn your lamps out and link hands. Here.” He felt Paula’s firm, warm palm hard against his, and remembrance of Moira was suddenly unexpectedly painful. He had not seen an Earthgirl for years.⁠ ⁠… + 

What of it, now? Garth moved cat-footedly forward, leading the others. He went fast. Once or twice he clicked on his light briefly. They could hear the noise of the search-party now, and a few times, could see distant lights. + 

“If they find that open panel⁠—” Brown whispered. + 

“Keep quiet.” + 

Garth pressed them back into an alcove as footsteps grew louder. Luck stayed with them. The searchers turned off at another passage. After that⁠— + 

It was like a nightmare, a blind, stumbling race through the blackness of Chahnn, with menace hiding everywhere. Garth’s hand was slippery with perspiration against Paula’s by the time he stopped, his light clicking on and off again almost instantly. + 

“This is it,” he said. “The panel’s shut.” + 

“Good. Sampson must have had sense enough to close it. Unless⁠—” + 

Garth found the spring and pressed it. He flashed his light into the darkness, to see the familiar faces of Brown’s men staring at him. The Captain thrust him forward. Paula was instantly beside him, and then Brown himself was through the oval gap. + 

“They’re coming,” he murmured. “How in hell does this work?” + 

“Here.” Garth didn’t use his light. Under his deft fingers the panel slid back into place, shutting off the noise of approaching steps. He gasped a little with relief. + 

“Okay,” he said in a natural voice. “These walls are soundproof. We can use our lights. We’ll have to.” + 

“What happened?” Paula’s voice said. “You said we were in a jam, Carver. Well?” + 

“We’ll talk as we go. Garth, you first. Paula, stay with me. Sampson, bring up the rear, will you?” + 

Garth obediently set out down the sloping tunnel, scarcely listening to Brown’s explanation. There were side branches to the passage here and there. He had to use his memory, which seemed less accurate than he remembered. Once he almost blundered, but caught himself in time. + 

Brown said, “Garth, we’ve got thirty miles of tunnel and twenty more above ground till we hit the Forest. Right? This is rough going. We won’t get out of here till daylight. So we’d better camp in the passage, at the other end, till tomorrow night.” + 

“We don’t have to do that,” Garth grunted. “This isn’t Earth. Jupiter won’t rise for thirteen hours.” + 

“The men have heavy packs.” Brown shifted his own big one uncomfortably. “Fifty miles is quite a way. Still, the quicker we reach the Forest, the safer we’ll be.” + 

“There’s a river.” Garth’s voice was doubtful. “We might use that.” + 

“Would it help?” + 

“Yeah. But it’s dangerous.” + 

“Why?” + 

“Spouts. Geysers. The water’s apt to explode under you any time. And there are big lizards⁠—” + 

“Would it take long to make a raft?” + 

Garth shook his head. “Lata-trees are better than balsa, and they grow on the banks. Plenty of vines, too. But⁠—” + 

“We’ll do that, then,” Brown said decisively. “Speed it up. We’ve got thirteen hours. We can make it, all right.” + 

Garth didn’t answer. + 

After that it was pure monotony, a dull driving march through a bare tunnel, up slopes and down them, till leg muscles were aching with fatigue. Garth dropped into a state of tired apathy. He had no pack to carry, but nevertheless his liquor-soaked body rebelled at the unaccustomed exertion. But he knew that each step brought him closer to his goal. + 

The thoughts swung monotonously through his brain. Doc Willard. The notebook. The cure. The Plague. Maybe⁠—maybe⁠—maybe! + 

If he got through⁠—if he found the notebook⁠—if it had the cure⁠—that was what he wanted, of course. + 

But suppose he also found the skeleton of Doc Willard on an altar, with a knife-hilt protruding from the ribs? + 

He couldn’t have killed Doc consciously. That was unthinkable. Yet the damnable influence of the Noctoli pollen did odd things to a man’s mind. + 

Doc Willard⁠—Moira⁠—the Silver Plague⁠— + 

Half asleep, aching with exhaustion, he slogged ahead, moving like an automaton. And, whenever he slowed his pace, Brown’s sharp voice urged him on faster. + 

Grudgingly the Captain allowed them rest periods. But by the time they reached the tunnel’s end the men were panting and sweating, and both Paula and Garth were near exhaustion. Thirty miles at a fast pace, with only occasional rests, is wearing work. + 

They emerged from the passage to find themselves on the slope of a rocky hillock. Low ridges rose around them, silhouetted in triple-moonlight. A whitish haze hung close to the ground, filling the hollows like shining water. + 

Instinctively Brown looked up. A meteor, drawn by the immense gravity of Jupiter, flamed across the sky⁠—that was all. And that was a familiar enough sight. + 

Garth, reeling with fatigue, nodded. “River⁠—down there. Half a mile. The fog’s thicker⁠—” + 

“Okay. Let’s go.” + 

This lap of the journey was nearly the hardest. But the low roar of the river steadily grew louder as they stumbled on, the luminous mist lapping their ankles, their knees, their waists. It closed above their heads, so that they moved in a ghostlike, shadowless world in which the very air seemed dimly lighted. + 

Trees were visible. Garth, almost spent, searched for a shelving beach, found it, and dropped in a limp heap. He saw Paula sink down beside him. The men threw off their heavy packs with relief. + 

Brown⁠—the man was made of rawhide and steel!⁠—said, “I’ll need help to make a raft. The boys that feel tired can keep their eyes open for pursuit planes. I don’t think the Commander would send out truck-cats at night, but he’ll use searching planes.” + 

“They can’t see us in this fog,” Paula said faintly. + 

“They could hear us, with their motors muffled. So we’ll work fast. Garth!” + 

“Yeah. What?” + 

“What trees do we want?” + 

Garth pointed. “Lata. Like that one, over there. They’re easy to cut down, and they float. You’ll find tough vines all around here.” He forced the words out with an effort. Brown mustered eight of his men, including the red-haired Sampson, and led them away. The sound of ringing axes presently drifted back. + 

Two others had been stationed on hillocks, above the low-lying fog, to watch for planes. Garth, alone with Paula, was almost too tired to be conscious of her presence. He heard her voice. + 

“Cigarette?” + 

“Thanks.⁠ ⁠…” Garth took one. + 

“Sorry I can’t offer you a drink.” + 

“So am I,” Garth grunted. He could feel her eyes on him. He drew the smoke deep into his lungs, exhaling luxuriously. + 

“Got a gun?” + 

“Yes. Why?” + 

“Oh⁠—things come out of the river sometimes. Hunting water-lizards, carnivorous. You learn to sleep with one eye open on Ganymede.” + 

“It’s a funny world,” Paula acknowledged. “Once it was highly civilized. Now it’s gone back to savagery.” + 

“Conditions are bad here. Too vigorous. Jupiter gives light but not much heat. Animals and plants have to be tough to survive. This is summer-season, but it’s plenty cold.” + 

“How much do you know about the Zarno?” she asked abruptly. + 

Garth blinked. “Not much. Why?” + 

“Not many people have ever seen them. I’m wondering. I managed to translate some inscriptions from Chahnn.⁠ ⁠… The Zarno aren’t human, are they?” + 

Garth didn’t answer. Paula went on. + 

“The Ancients knew them, though. They tried to educate them⁠—like Rome colonizing savage races. That’s probably why the Zarno are supposed to speak the Ancient Tongue.” + 

“They do.” + 

“And then the Ancients died out⁠—somehow. The Zarno were left. They became barbarous again. I wish I knew what they were like. Natives who’ve seen them don’t seem able to describe the creatures. They wear shining armor, don’t they?” + 

Garth closed his eyes, trying to remember. A vague, dim picture was growing in his mind⁠—manlike figures that glowed, faces that were craggy, hideous creatures.⁠ ⁠… + 

“I’ve seen them,” he said, “but I’ve forgotten. The Noctoli poison⁠—it wrecked my memory.” + 

“You don’t recall anything?” + 

“I⁠—” Garth rubbed his forehead. “Not human⁠—no. Creatures like living statues, shining and moving.⁠ ⁠… I don’t know.” + 

“Silicate life?” Paula theorized thoughtfully. “It’s possible. And it might evolve on a planet where conditions are so tough for survival. Such creatures wouldn’t be affected by the Noctoli pollen, either, would they?” + 

“No. Or they’ve built up resistance. The virus is active only in daylight, when the flowers are open. I don’t know why. Before we go too far into the Black Forest I’ll have to give everyone antitoxin shots⁠—everyone but me. The pollen doesn’t work on me any more.” + 

They were silent, resting. It seemed only a moment before Brown appeared, announcing that the raft was ready. + 

“It’s a makeshift job, but it’s strong,” he said. “Listen, Garth, what about the planes spotting us on the river? We’ll be an easy target.” + 

“They wouldn’t fire on us?” + 

“No. But they’d use sleep-gas, and nab us when we drifted ashore. We don’t want that.” + 

Garth rose, his muscles aching. “It’s a chance. Most of the time there’ll be fog on the river. That’ll help.” He found his medical kit and shouldered it. “I’m ready.” + 

The men were already on the raft, a big platform of light, tough lata-logs bound together by vines. Garth took his place near the pile of equipment in the center. “Keep to midstream,” he cautioned. “Watch for bubbles breaking ahead. Swing wide of those. Waterspouts.” + 

The raft slid out from the bank, long poles guiding it. Water washed aboard and slipped away as the platform found its balance. Presently they were drifting downstream in the dimly-lighted fog, the black river murmuring quietly beneath them. + 

Garth kept his gaze ahead. It was hard to see in the faint, filtered light of the moons, but a ray-lamp would have been betraying to any planes that might be searching above. + 

“Swing left. Hard,” he called. + 

The men obeyed. Oily bubbles were breaking the surface. As the raft moved toward the bank, a sudden geyser burst up from the river, a spouting torrent that tipped the platform dangerously and showered its occupants with icy spray. + 

Garth met Brown’s eyes. “See what I mean?” he remarked. + 

“Yeah. Still, if that’s all⁠—” + 

The river flowed fast. Once or twice the plated back of a giant saurian was visible, but the water-reptiles did not attack, made wary, perhaps, by the bulk of the raft. There were other waterspouts, but the men soon became adept at avoiding them. + 

Sometimes they drifted through fog, sometimes the mists were dissipated by winds, though not often. During one of the latter periods a faint droning drifted down from above. It was the worst possible timing, for the two larger moons were directly overhead, blazing down on the river. The stub-winged shape of a plane loomed against the starry sky. + 

Brown said sharply, “Drop flat. Don’t move.” He forced Garth and Paula down. “No, don’t look up. They’d see our faces.” + 

“They can’t miss us,” Sampson muttered. + 

“There’s fog ahead.” + 

The sound of the plane’s motors grew louder. Abruptly there was a splash. Another. Something shattered on the raft. + 

“Hold your breath!” Brown snapped. + 

Garth tried to obey. A stinging ache had crept into his nostrils. His lungs began to hurt. The plane had spotted them⁠—that was obvious. Sleep-gas works fast. + 

Another soft crash. Garth scarcely heard it. He saw a stubby, cruciform shadow sweep over the raft, as the plane swooped, and then the wall of silvery fog was looming up ahead. Paula gave a little gasp. Her body collapsed against him. + 

The fire in Garth’s chest was blazing agony. Despite himself, he let breath rush into his lungs. + 

After that, complete blackness and oblivion. + 