the automatic inner door to the chart-room slide closed. He stood a moment to get his balance and then dropped into the lock chamber and closed its outer door after him.
Normality returned at once. He landed up the side wall of the room; but the interior gravity of the Comet—maintained to simulate the gravity of Earth—immediately claimed him. He fell into a tumbled heap upon the floor. It seemed, instantly that the ship had righted herself and lay now upon an even keel. . .
There were a few moments while Graham lay in darkness, listening to the hiss of the air as it came in to fill the lock-chamber. Then the pressure was normal. Graham moved to the inner slide. In a moment he would be in the chartroom. He would seize a rifle; meet Kol on equal terms outside on the catwalk—
Some instinct of caution made Graham keep on his helmet, and maintain the air circulation within his pressure suit. He pulled the inner door lever; and as the panel slid aside, he drew suddenly back from the opening. Fortuitous caution! The figure of Kol with leveled rifle crouched in the chart-room. The rifle spat flame; the bullet missed Graham and thudded against the further metal wall of the lock.
Graham crouched motionless in the blackness. He was helpless here; but he believed that. Kol had not seen him; had only fired assuming he would be in the opening when the panel slid aside. A moment passed. The Martian crept slowly forward. The chart-room was very dim, but Graham could see the blur of his figure. Kol presently thrust the rifle muzzle over the threshold, pointing it sidewise to command the lock's interior.
The muzzle, just for an instant, wavered past Graham's shoulder. He seized it; jerked at it. The spurt of its shot flashed past his visor. . . Impelled by the jerk, Kol came over the threshold and Graham seized him.
At once they were struggling. The rifle fell unheeded between them. They swayed, locked together, the Martian seemingly small in Graham's huge bloated grip. But the suit was hampering and Kol had the swift sure movements of a cat. In the narrow confines of the tiny pressure porte Graham staggered to the wall and rebounded. Kol was stooping for the rifle but again Graham was upon him.
Through the visor pane of his huge heavy helmet Graham could see almost nothing. He felt the Martian tearing at him, trying to rip his suit, shoving him away from where Graham realized that the rifle was lying. . .
They came, swaying upon their feet, locked together, with a thud against the wall. Kol's back was to it, with Graham pressing against him. A little shaft of light from the chart-room door struck upon the Martian's grey-green face. It was set with a leer.
And the shaft of light showed that for that instant, Kol's head was touching the metal wall of the lock. . . Graham stooped and with a desperate jerk of his neck struck his heavy helmet against the Martian's face. Through the audiphone contact Graham heard the man's queer split screem. For an instant he went limp.
Then he revived; was fighting again. But now Graham had him over by the outer pressure porte. It was closed; but with a free hand, Graham seized the lever. The panel slid open; the automatic chart-room door banged closed.
The air in the lock went out with a tumultuous rush. At the outer threshold Graham stood clinging, with Kol gripping him. But the Martian's hold in an instant broke away. His air was gone; he was choking. There was a faint gasp from his lips. Graham cast him loose, and the rush of pressure took him like a wind-blown feather. His body blew out into the void. . .
At the threshold Graham gazed into the starry abyss. Kol's body sailed slowly out, stiff as iron. And by chance that other man's body came floating calmly past. Kol collided with it and the two bodies, embraced in death, wavered, found their new orbit, and gruesomely locked together moved slowly on. . . ✱✱✱ Graham renewed the lock-air; went through the chart-room; discarded his helmet and suit. Whitefaced and shuddering he pounded at the helio-room door.
"Alma! Alma, are you alive? It's Graham! Let me in!"
A horrible moment of silence.
Then the door slid. She lay on the floor gasping. But the rush of pure air revived her.
"Alma—"
"Graham—you—you came at last—"
They presently stood together at a window near the end of the catwalk gazing at the blazing stars. . . The locked bodies went slowly, inexorably, past. . .
"Don't look, Alma! Don't—But here, look off this way! Alma—the patrol ship! It's coming! See the lights?"
Against the blackness of Space and the great blazing stars, a tiny line of colored lights was swiftly advancing. . .
The End
Another thrilling story by
Ray Cummings
"The Great Transformation"
appears in the February, 1931 Issue of Wonder Stories—on sale Jan. 1, 1931.
