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MOON MAID AT THE EARTH'S CORE by ANDY NUNEZ
CHAPTER SIX — DOGFIGHT DOWN BELOW
I felt helpless. If not a sitting duck, I was at least a barely maneuverable one. I gave the aircraft a quick glance as it dove below me. It looked like a madman's redesign of a Focke-Wulf FW-190 fighter, something I had only seen in drawings and photos. It had the same blunt, rounded nose with a bullet-shaped cover for its propeller hub. The lines of its canopy were more angular, and its wings were ribbed so that the trailing edges almost had a scalloped look to them. The tail section was much more rounded, again with the bat-wing feel to its outline. I had no more than this impression as I fought to gain altitude.
At first, I feared it belonged to the Empire of Pellucidar, and that we were going to be shot down by the very people that we were trying to reach, but I shoved that thought aside. From all that I had read, Pellucidarian science took one step forward and two steps back. Whoever this black craft belonged to it was going to chew me to pieces because I certainly was not going to be able to dogfight with the glider attached.
A glance showed that the black craft was looping upward and there was no way for me to turn to meet it. Lightning was snarling at the sudden shift in the plane's flight. Salome was oblivious for the time being. I looked around for a flat place to hand, in the frail hope that I could set us down before the enemy fighter could destroy us. As I swung in an arc to try to keep my plane toward the enemy, I suddenly felt a surge through the plane's frame.
Looking back, I saw that the glider was free. Giuseppe had guessed the situation correctly and had used the release mechanism he had installed. I twisted sharply, causing Salome to scream. I got a quick glimpse of the glider winging over and heading for a narrow plain beyond some trees, and then the enemy tried another burst. I felt a sharp slap or two along the frame as bullets struck, then he was past me again. His weapons seemed to fire at a very slow rate, otherwise I would have been stitched pretty well.
This time, I was ready to fight back. I shoved the stick forward, sending the P-38 into a steep dive toward the green mass of treetops. Salome's face was beet red. I checked my guns.
"What is happening?" Salome demanded. "You are going to kill us."
"Do me a favor and shut up," I snapped back. "Better yet, say nice things to Lightning back there, or he might just get so upset that he'll throw up on you. Worse, he might decide on a last meal and it would be you."
Salome's eyes grew large and she turned to Lightning's savage visage. "Nice kitty," she said somberly, "Nice kitty!"
A quick look showed that the enemy was right on my tail. I revved up my engines, flattened out my dive and pulled back on the stick. The P-38 clawed upward in a circular maneuver perfected by Max Immelman. When I snapped out of it, I was behind the enemy ship, lining up on his tail section. This was what I had signed on for, only I was trained to expect a Nazi Swastika or Japanese rising sun to be on the tail of my opponent.
My thumb stabbed the firing button and a stream of machine gun bullets hosed out. I didn't use the 20mm since the plane wasn't that big. The .50 caliber slugs tore the aft section of the plane apart as if it was a Japanese paper lantern. The damage was way out of proportion, I could only imagine that the plane was made out of some lightweight wood and fabric rather than the metal fame of my P-38. The enemy fighter didn't catch fire as it tumbled toward the ground like a broken kite, but I circled the area until it crashed on the opposite side of the forest where Giuseppe's glider had landed.
I would have liked to have seen further results but my first thought was of Ee-la-nah's safety. I turned the stick at near full-power and swung around toward where the glider had gone down. Keeping a sharp eye out for more mystery planes, I throttled back and circled the area. The sliver of unforested area was easy to pick out from the upward curving surface, though I found details to be flatter-looking as I lost altitude and details blended in easier. I saw a deep gash in the amber texture of the plain that ended in a mix of brush and trees. The tall trees threw down enough shadow to deny me a view of the glider.
I made one more pass and had no choice but to land. I brought the P-38 in for what turned out to be a harrowing landing because the grasses in the field were knee-height, tall enough to clog my props and damn near flipping the fighter nose over as the vegetation dragged on the landing gear. We didn't flip, but I couldn't taxi after we came to a halt—I wasn't sure if I could take off again, let alone with the glider attached. I killed the engines, unhappy I was not closer to the glider's crash site.
"I am going to find them," I told Salome. "You will stay in the plane and scream if anybody bothers you."
She cast a horrified look at Lightning. "What about the tarag?" She asked.
I had a thought, swiftly contained, then said: "He comes with me." Salome was relieved.
I grabbed the M-1 carbine and deplaned. Lightning followed close behind, happy to get out of the cockpit. The tarag paused to answer the call of nature then coursed ahead, bounding in leaps through the tall grass with a swiftness I wished I could emulate. Near the forest edge I found the glider, in the shadow of trees I judged to be at least two hundred feet tall. The glider was wedged between two giant tree boles, its wings snapped off, crumpled masses which lay to either side of the rude fuselage. The door was open, but there was no answer to my frantic call. Inspecting the inside of the glider, I found a large splash of blood but at the same time I found no bodies.
Unfortunately, I am no Tarzan. Wilderness tracking was not one of my skills so any hope of following the erratic blood trail leading away from the glider was limited. My mind raced at the prospect of the scaly Mahar having devouring my beloved and Giuseppe. I made a thorough search of the surrounding area, but to no avail. Lightning seemed unsure what was going on, and then I realized that his sense of smell was probably sufficient to hunt for them. My hopes rose steadily as I returned to the plane. Salome was sweating when I pushed back the Plexiglas canopy to retrieve supplies, food, and water.
"At last," Salome rapidly breathed, fanning her face. "This clear ceiling," she smacked the canopy with irritation, "makes it very hot on Salome. You did not find them?" She didn't seem very distressed by that possibility.
"No, but Lightning can track them," I said. I rapidly filled a pack with necessaries, ignoring Lightning making a rodent kill near the tail section. The beast could feed himself. "What are you doing?" Salome asked?" "I'm going after Giuseppe and Ee-la-nah." "What about the black flyer?" she asked. "His tough luck, but I suspect he's got problems of his own if he isn't dead. You have a choice. You can stay with the plane or come with me." She did not seem happy with either thought. At the moment I had other things on my mind and was not interested in Salome's feelings.
"There's enough food and water left for a short spell." I said, hoisting the pack to my shoulder. I checked the carbine and looked to Lightning licking the kill's blood off his paws. The tarag's ears pricked smartly when I whistled. The great cat came to heel, bumping my thigh, surprising me since cats are as alien creatures, that is, they are not dogs. Lightning rubbed against me, eyes fixed on the forest and seeming to partner with my desires.
I was no more than twenty steps away from the aircraft before Salome dropped to the ground. She hurried forward. "Let us hope we don't have to walk far." She piled on as much disdain as any human voice could muster, while at the same time desperately clutching my elbow.
I shook her off, gently, and struggled to keep an even temper. "If we do, we do, but I hope not."
Were moon women a lazy, pampered bunch?
I carried all my ammunition and both guns, plus my survival knife. Salome had a stone knife, but I had never seen her draw it except to hack off huge pieces of meat that Lightning had brought home. I remembered how skillful she was at that, gobbling down extra meal portions before anybody could guess exactly how greedy she was.
We went back to the glider. I waved Salome to wait as I approached the craft filled with greedy little lizards and possum-like mammals fighting over the food stored in the glider. Lesser creatures chewed on the hide coverings and anything else that seemed edible. I could not get close enough to the craft to find the trail start so I fired a round from the rifle. Almost instantly the fuselage was vacated by Pellucidar's scavengers. I knew this would not last-in fact the scavengers might become impatient and attack us-so I investigated immediately.
The spare fuel cans were intact. The P-38 could be refueled, but that was not the most important thing on my mind. Looking down at the dirt around the plane I picked out a slim footprint that had to belong to Ee-la-nah. I whistled to Lightning. Pointing to the spoor, I said: "Go find her, boy!"
The big cat's great head bent down until the points of his down-curving fangs almost impaled his tawny breast. He glanced up at me with a rumbling meow. I nodded and pointed again. He got the idea and started off, glancing back only to make sure I followed. Motioning to Salome, I followed, trotting as best I could.
The privations of life in Pellucidar had toughened me beyond the limits of my combat experiences on the surface. The way through the trees was fairly clear, since their interlacing trees kept out the sun except in dazzling shafts at intervals. Otherwise, the forest was dark and gloomy, and our footfalls seemed unnaturally loud through the colonnade of trunks.
I saw few creatures, but heard their passing rustling in the forest as lesser beasts ran at our not-too-subtle approach. It was only by God's grace that we encountered no giant carnivores either reptile or mammal. Salome shrank so close to me that I could feel the trim of her clothing and the warmth of her body. It gave me little pleasure, though. My mind was almost wholly focused on finding Ee-la-nah. Lightning gave a warning growl. I was sure that we had closed on them and brought my carbine bear, then I heard a groan from behind a rubbery tangle of roots.
Leaping around the trunk, weapon ready, I discovered not my beloved but Giuseppe prostrate and filthy. Blood lay in brown streaks across his abdomen. He was so covered with grime that he looked more like one of his country's former Ethiopian colonists. Putting away my rifle, I bent to examine him. As I did, a cloud of flies and other insects rose to circle in annoyance. He suffered from several deep lacerations along his stomach and ribs, but none so deep as to reach his vitals.
I washed Giuseppe's wounds with water from our supplies. This ministration caused him some discomfort. He awakened with a grimace of pain. "It's me," I said as he weakly struggled.
Giuseppe subsided, though he was not clearly focused until he managed to take some water. "My friend," he said as I bandaged his wounds with the meager supplies that I had brought with me from the P-38's first aid kit. He fainted as I bound his wounds, then revived moments later. The Italian's eyes focused on mine. "Giuseppe?" I asked. "I am living," he said, clutching his side with a wry smile that was neither wry or a smile. It was a grimace. "What happened?" I asked.
"That plane came a giant bat from Hell," he said, pausing with an occasional wince as I ministered to him. "I knew you couldn't fight him dragging us, so the release cable. I let her go. I tried to land on the grass, but glider pilot I damn good dirigible engineer." The Italian's laugh was caught mid humor by a pain spasm.
Giuseppe caught his breath Closing his eyes, the small man continued. "She went in the trees. We throw around. The Mahar, she get cut a little. Make her mad. She whistle like Mt. Etna. Then, she stare at the girl. Girl-she holds head like it hurts worse than after a three-day drunk.
"I get up and yell at the Mahar but it kicks me good and out the plane I go. Then, she grabs girl and go into the woods. Well, I got these marks on me and they hurt like I been in a knife fight with a consigliore, but I am not going to let that overgrown newt with wings get away, so I jump up and run after them. After a while, I start to hurt worse, and then I lose them, so I faint, then got up, then drag myself to...I do not remember...and here are you."
"You're lucky you aren't dead," I said, finishing up. "We'll get some food in you and see if you can travel. Did Ee-la-nah say anything before you lost sight of her?"
"Sure, sure," Giuseppe licked his lips looking anguished. I gave him another drink. "She said 'Phutra!'" the little Italian said. Softer, more privately, he added: "Tell Byron-Jasper-Wells I love him'."
Blinking twice, stunned by the words, yet thrilled like any Burroughs hero, which I am not, the expression made me dizzy. Several moments passed before I could speak. "Plain enough," I said. "They're headed for Phutra. We'll get back to the plane and beat them there. Salome can help me load the extra fuel and we'll fly there. If I had just one thousand pounder, I'd threaten to blow that city to kingdom come if that refugee from a King Kong movie wouldn't let her go."
"Well, we don't got that," Giuseppe said. "We have a crazy American, a cut-up Italian mechanic, a saber-tooth tiger and a girl from the moon. That makes the odds about even, I guess."
I laughed as we sat down for some food. Later, Giuseppe said that he felt well enough to get back to the plane, so I helped him to stand. He wobbled unsteadily and I grabbed him around the waist.
"Give me a hand, Salome!" I growled when she did not bounce up to give me a hand with the Italian.
The woman frowned petulantly, but acquiesced, lending a soft shoulder on Giuseppe's opposite side. We half-carried the small man back to the plane and though he said nothing, I realized he felt worse than he let on. By the time we got to the P-38, he was in constant pain and his wounds were beginning to stain the bandages. I knew we had to let him rest a while, so I made camp just inside the trees amid the wreckage of the glider. While Giuseppe slept, I loaded the extra fuel in the glider and stripped what useable items from it that I could.
The enemy plane had punched a couple of holes in my crate, but I patched them up after making sure no serious damage was done. I figured I could cram Giuseppe in with the rest of us and still have plenty of power to take off if the grass didn't slow me down too much. Giuseppe slept on, so I took the time to mash down the grass as best I could in a path that I though I would use on take-off. When I returned, I found that he was still asleep, so I decided to rest myself. I chafed at not being able to fly up and go to Phutra, but Giuseppe had been a loyal friend, and I had risked his life enough on the trek back to the plane. He had to rest and heal before I put him on a bumpy plane ride.
I gathered dead wood and made a large fire using parts of the glider for tinder. I figured this would keep away all but the largest predators, and even they would think twice. Once the fire was going, I made another one on the opposite side of us and hoped it would conceal us. I threw down a fur from the glider and prepared for a short snooze. Lightning looked hungry, or so I thought.
"Hunt," I told him. "I think we'll be fine for awhile."
I waved at the surrounding woods and the great cat cavorted with glee and charged into the brush. Fatigue began to creep on me and I lay down. No sooner had my eyes closed, though, than I felt a warm form press itself against me. Opening my eyes, I found Salome, her nose nearly touching mine. I was too stunned to move. I stole a glance at Giuseppe, but he was blithely snoring.
"What are you doing?" I whispered. "Your man is there, hurt. Snuggle up to him."
"He may die," she said, dark eyes studying me. "The Mahar will eat the slave girl. I have watched you. You are strong, and brave, and handsome. You tame this metal thipdar, and you tame Salome. There is no man like you, either on Pellucidar, or above it, on my home. Mate with me, and I will give you all you desire in a she. You will have many strong children."
"I love Ee-la-nah," I told her. "Go to Giuseppe."
"How can you love that which is no more? As for him, he is short and makes much foul air. You are for me, and I am for you."
At that she dragged my head down to meet her waiting lips. Her unvarnished desire had no effect on me except to make me angry. No sooner had our mouths touched than I thrust her roughly from me. She rolled so far that the hem of her skirt touched the bonfire and began to catch. She jumped up quickly and beat it out with her hands.
"I am not for you," I told her. "You are Giuseppe's, and if you continue to act this way, I will leave you at the first tribe of Neanderthals I find."
Fire blazed in her eyes and her face turned purple. "You spurn Salome!" She shrieked. "I hate you! You will never have that pale little thing! The Mahar has eaten her! The Mahar will eat you too."
"Shut up," I told her, "or I will take you over my knee and give you a spanking."
"I hate you!" She screamed again, and ran into the forest.
My anger cooled as she disappeared. I was sure that she would come back after she calmed down. Armed only with that little stone knife, she wouldn't last a New York minute in this world. I lay down and don't remember falling asleep, but I must have. I awoke to something hard poking me in the back.
"Those teeth hurt, Lightning," I said. The prodding did not stop, so I turned over.
Facing me was a half-circle of men in black leather clothes. The foremost was holding what appeared to be a long barreled pistol, now pointed directly between my eyes. The most remarkable thing about this group, however, was that they were all a head shorter than average and were pale with big luminous eyes just like Ee-la-nah!
