The Mammoth Book of Golden Age SF Read Online Free PDF

finally, his last coherent thought had gone. Yet he seemed to know what had happened. There was a skeleton in a cave on an asteroid – millions of years from now. And the ship had struck.
     
    Tony moved, opened his eyes. The lights were out, but a pale shaft of radiance was streaming through the still-intact port. Sounds insinuated themselves into his consciousness. The wet drip of rain, the low murmur of spasmodic wind, a guttural
kutakikchkut
that drifted eerily, insistently, down the wind.
    Tony slowly levered himself to his feet. He was lying atop Braker. The man was breathing heavily, a shallow gash on his forehead. Involuntarily, Tony’s eyes dropped to the ring. It gleamed – a wicked eye staring up at him. He wrenched his eyes away.
    Yates was stirring, mumbling to himself. His eyes snapped open, stared at Tony.
    “What happened?” he said thickly. He reeled to his feet. “
Phew!
”
    Tony smiled through the gloom. “Take care of Braker,” he said, and turned to the door, which was warped off its hinges. He loped down the corridor to the control room, slowing down on the lightless lower deck ramp. He felt his way into the control room. He stumbled around until his foot touched a body. He stooped, felt a soft, bare arm. In sudden, stifling panic, he scooped Laurette’s feebly breathing body into his arms. She might have been lead, as his feet seemed made of lead. He forced himself up to the upper corridor, kicked open the door of her father’s room, placed her gently on the bed. There was light here, probably that of a moon. He scanned her pale face anxiously, rubbing her arms toward the heart. Blood came to her cheeks. She gasped, rolled over. Her eyes opened.
    “Lieutenant,” she muttered.
    “You all right?”
    Tony helped her to her feet.
    “Thanks, lieutenant. I’ll do.” She tensed. “What about my father?”
    “I’ll bring him up,” said Tony.
    Five minutes later, Overland was stretched on the bed, pain in his open eyes. Three ribs were broken. Erle Masters hovered at the foot of the bed, dabbing at one side of his face with a reddened handkerchief, a dazed, scared look in his eyes. Tony knew what he was scared of, but even Tony wasn’t playing with that thought now.
    He found a large roll of adhesive in the ship’s medicine closet. He taped Overland’s chest. The breaks were simple fractures. In time, they would do a fair job of knitting. But Overland would have to stay on his back.
    Masters met Tony’s eyes reluctantly.
    “We’ll have to get pressure suits and take a look outside.”
    Tony shrugged. “We won’t need pressure suits. We’re already breathing outside air, and living under this planet’s atmospheric pressure. The bulkheads must be stowed in some place.”
    Overland’s deep voice sounded, slowly. “I think we’ve got an idea where we are, Erle. You can feel the drag of this planet – a full-size planet, too. Maybe one and a half gravities. I can feel it pulling on my ribs.” A bleak expression settled on his stubbled face. He looked at Tony humorlessly. “Maybe I’m that skeleton, son.”
    Tony caught his breath. “Nonsense. Johnny Braker’s wearing the ring. If anybody’s that skeleton, he is.
Not
that I wish him any bad luck, of course.” He nodded once, significantly, then turned toward the door with a gesture at Masters. Masters, plainly resenting the soundless command, hesitated, until Laurette made an impatient motion at him.
     
    They prowled through the gloomy corridor toward the small engine room, pushed the door open. The overpowering odor of ozone and burning rubber flung itself at them.
    Masters uttered an expressive curse as Tony played a beam over what was left of the reversed Fitz-Gerald Contraction machinery. His nails clicked startlingly loud in the heavy silence.
    “Well, that’s that,” he muttered.
    “What d’you mean – that’s that?” Tony’s eyes bored at him through the darkness.
    “I mean that we’re stuck here, millions of