Captured!

Certainly my situation was no less desperate. Unless I could find some method of compensating for my lost ballast, the inverse gravity of my inertron ship would hurl me continuously upward until I shot forth from the last air layer into space. I thought of jumping, and floating down on my inertron belt, but I was already too high for this. The air was too rarefied to permit breathing outside, though my little air compressors were automatically maintaining the proper density within the shell. If I could compress a sufficiently large quantity of air inside the craft, I would add to its weight. But there seemed little chance that I would myself be able to withstand sufficient compression.

My situation was certainly no less desperate. I had to find some way to replace my lost ballast. Otherwise, my inertron ship’s inverse gravity would keep hurling me upward, until I shot beyond the last layer of air into space. I thought of jumping and floating down on my inertron belt, but I was already too high. The air outside was too thin to breathe. Inside the shell, though, my small air compressors were automatically keeping the air at the proper density. If I could compress enough air inside the craft, I would add to its weight. But there seemed little chance that I could withstand enough pressure myself.

I thought of releasing my inertron belt, but doubted whether this would be enough. Besides I might need the belt badly if I did find some method of bringing the little ship down, and it came too fast.

I thought about releasing my inertron belt, but I doubted it would be enough. Besides, I might need the belt badly if I found a way to bring the little ship down and it came down too fast.

At last a plan came into my half-numbed brain that had some promise of success, though it was desperate enough. Cutting one of the hose pipes on my air compressor, and grasping it between my lips, I set to work to saw off the heads of the rivets that held the entire nose section of the swooper (inertron plates had to be grooved and riveted together, since the substance was impervious to heat and could not be welded). Desperately I sawed, hammered and chiseled, until at last with a wrench and a snap, the plate broke away.

At last, a plan came to my half-numbed brain that had some chance of success, though it was desperate. I cut one of the hoses on my air compressor and held it between my lips. Then I began sawing off the heads of the rivets that held the swooper's entire nose section in place. (The inertron plates had to be grooved and riveted together because the substance was impervious to heat and could not be welded.) I sawed, hammered, and chiseled desperately until, at last, the plate broke away with a wrench and a snap.

The released nose of the ship shot upward. The rest began to drop with me. How fast I dropped I do not know, for my instruments went with the nose. Half fainting, I grimly clenched the rubber hose between my teeth, while the little compressor "carried on" nobly, despite the wrecked condition of the ship, giving me just enough air to keep my lungs from collapsing.

The ship’s nose broke free and shot upward. The rest of the ship began to fall with me. I don’t know how fast I fell because my instruments went with the nose. Half fainting, I clenched the rubber hose between my teeth. Despite the wrecked ship, the little compressor "carried on" nobly, giving me just enough air to keep my lungs from collapsing.

At last I shot through a cloud layer, and a long time afterward, it seemed, another. From the way in which they flashed up to meet me and to appear away above me, I must have been dropping like a stone.

At last I shot through a layer of clouds. What seemed like a long time later, I shot through another. The clouds rushed up to meet me and flashed past, leaving them far above me. I must have been falling like a stone.

At last I tried the rocket motor, very gently, to check my fall. The swooper was, of course, dropping tail first, and I had to be careful lest it turn over with a sharp blast from the motor, and dump me out.

At last I tried the rocket motor, using it very gently to slow my fall. The swooper was falling tail first, of course. I had to be careful. A strong blast from the motor could flip it over and throw me out.

Passing through the third layer of clouds I saw the earth beneath me. Then I jumped, pulling myself up through the jagged opening, and leaping upward while the remains of my ship shot away below me.

As I passed through the third layer of clouds, I saw the earth below me. Then I pulled myself up through the jagged opening and jumped. As I leaped upward, the remains of my ship shot away below me.

On approaching the ground I opened my chute-cape, to further check my fall, and landed lightly, with no further mishap. Whereupon I promptly threw myself down and slept, so exhausted was I with my experience.

As I approached the ground, I opened my chute-cape to slow my fall further. I landed lightly, without further trouble. Then I immediately lay down and slept, exhausted by what I had been through.

It was not until the next morning that I awoke and gazed about me. I had come down in mountainous country. My intention was to get my bearing by tuning in headquarters with my ultrophone. But to my dismay I found the little battery disks had been torn from the earflaps of my helmet, though my chest-disk transmitter was still in place, and so far as I could see, in working order. I could report my experience, but could receive no reply.

I didn't wake up and look around until the next morning. I had come down in mountainous country. I planned to contact headquarters with my ultrophone to find out where I was. But to my dismay, I found that the little battery disks had been torn from my helmet's earflaps. My chest-disk transmitter was still in place, though, and as far as I could tell, it was working. I could report what had happened, but I couldn't receive a reply.

I spent a half hour repeating my story and explanation on the headquarters channel, then once more surveyed my surroundings, trying to determine in which direction I had better leap. Then there came a stab of pain on the top of my head, and I dropped unconscious.

I spent half an hour repeating my story and explanation over the headquarters channel. Then I looked around again, trying to decide which direction to leap. Suddenly, a sharp pain struck the top of my head, and I fell unconscious.

I regained consciousness to find myself, much to my surprise, a prisoner in the hands of a foot detachment of some thirty Hans. My surprise was a double one; first that they had not killed me instantly; second, that a detachment of them should be roaming this wild country afoot, obviously far from any of their cities, and with no ship hanging in the sky above them.

I woke to find, much to my surprise, that I was a prisoner of about thirty Hans traveling on foot. I was surprised for two reasons. First, they had not killed me at once. Second, they were roaming this wild country on foot, obviously far from any of their cities. There was no ship in the sky above them.

As I sat up, their officer grunted with satisfaction and growled a guttural command. I was seized and pulled roughly to my feet by four soldiers, and hustled along with the party into a wooded ravine, through which we climbed sharply upward. I surmised, correctly as it turned out, that some projectile had grazed my head, and I was in such shape that if it had not been for the fact that my inertron belt bore most of my weight, they would have had to carry me. But as it was I made out well, and at the end of an hour's climb was beginning to feel like myself again, though the Han soldiers around me were puffing and drooping as men will, no matter how healthy, when they are totally unaccustomed to physical effort.

As I sat up, their officer grunted with satisfaction and growled a command in a guttural voice. Four soldiers grabbed me, pulled me roughly to my feet, and hurried me along with the party. We entered a wooded ravine and climbed steeply upward through it. I guessed that some projectile had grazed my head, and it turned out I was right. I was in such bad shape that they would have had to carry me if my inertron belt had not supported most of my weight. But with the belt, I managed well enough. After an hour’s climb, I was beginning to feel like myself again. The Han soldiers around me, though, were panting and sagging with exhaustion. Even healthy men get that way when they are completely unaccustomed to physical effort.

At length the party halted for a rest. I observed them curiously. Except for a few brief exciting moments at the time of our air raid on the intelligence office in Nu-Yok, I had seen no living specimens of this yellow race at close quarters.

Eventually, the party stopped to rest. I watched them curiously. I had only seen living members of this yellow race up close once before. That was during a few brief, exciting moments in our air raid on the intelligence office in Nu-Yok.

They looked little like the Mongolians of the Twentieth Century, except for their slant eyes and round heads. The characteristic of the high cheek bones appeared to have been bred out of them, as were those of the relatively short legs and the muddy yellow skin. To call them yellow was more figurative than literal. Their skins were whiter than those of our own weather-tanned forest men. Nevertheless, their pigmentation was peculiar, and what there was of it looked more like a pale orange tint than the ruddiness of the Caucasian. They were well formed, but rather undersized and soft-looking, small-muscled and smooth-skinned, like young girls. Their features were finely chiseled, eyes beady, and nose slightly aquiline.

They looked little like the Mongolians of the twentieth century, except for their slanted eyes and round heads. Their high cheekbones, relatively short legs, and muddy yellow skin seemed to have been bred out of them. Calling them yellow was more figurative than literal. Their skin was whiter than that of our own weather-tanned forest men. Still, their coloring was unusual. What color they had looked more like a pale orange tint than the ruddiness of the Caucasian. They were well formed, but rather small and soft-looking, with small muscles and smooth skin, like young girls. Their features were finely chiseled, their eyes beady, and their noses slightly hooked.

They were uniformed, not in close-fitting green or other shades of protective coloring, such as the unobtrusive gray of the Jersey Beaches or the leadened russet of the autumn uniforms of our people. Instead they wore loose fitting jackets of some silky material, and loose knee pants. This particular command had been equipped with form-moulded boots of some soft material that reached above the knee under their pants. They wore circular hats with small crowns and wide rims. Their loose jackets were belted at the waist, and they carried for weapons each man a knife, a short double-edged sword and what I took to be a form of magazine rocket gun. It was a rather bulky affair, short-barrelled, and with a pistol grip. It was obviously intended to be fired either from the waist position or from some sort of support, like the old machine guns. It looked, in fact, like a rather small edition of the Twentieth Century arm.

They wore uniforms, but not close-fitting green or other camouflage colors. Our people wore such colors, like the inconspicuous gray of the Jersey Beaches or the dull russet of their autumn uniforms. Instead, these men wore loose jackets of some silky material and loose knee-length pants. This particular unit had soft, form-fitting boots that reached above the knee, under their pants. They wore round hats with small crowns and wide brims. Their loose jackets were belted at the waist. Each man carried a knife, a short double-edged sword, and what I took to be a magazine rocket gun. The gun was rather bulky, with a short barrel and a pistol grip. It was clearly meant to be fired from the waist or from some kind of support, like the old machine guns. In fact, it looked like a rather small version of the Twentieth Century weapon.

And have I mentioned the color of their uniforms? Their circular hats and pants were a bright yellow; their coats a flaming scarlet. What targets they were!

And have I mentioned the color of their uniforms? Their round hats and pants were bright yellow. Their coats were flaming scarlet. What targets they made!

I must have chuckled audibly at the thought, for their commander who was seated on a folding stool one of his men had placed for him, glanced in my direction, and, at his arrogant gesture of command, I was prodded to my feet, and with my hands still bound, as they had been from the moment I recovered consciousness, I was dragged before him.

I must have chuckled aloud at the thought, because their commander glanced at me. He was sitting on a folding stool one of his men had set out for him. He gave an arrogant gesture of command, and I was prodded to my feet and dragged before him. My hands were still bound, as they had been since I regained consciousness.

Then I knew what it was about these Hans that kept me in a turmoil of irritation. It was their sardonic, mocking, cruel smiles; smiles which left their stamp on their faces, even in repose. Now the commander was smiling tauntingly at me. When he spoke, it was in my own language.

Then I realized what it was about the Hans that kept irritating me. It was their mocking, cruel smiles. Those smiles left their mark on their faces, even when they were at rest. Now the commander was smiling at me, taunting me. When he spoke, he used my own language.

"So!" he sneered. "You beasts have learned to laugh. You have gotten out of control in the last year or so. But that shall be remedied. In the meantime, a simple little surgical operation would make your smile a permanent one, reaching from ear to ear. But there, my orders are to deliver you and your equipment, all we have of it, intact. The Heaven-Born has had a whim."

"So!" he sneered. "You beasts have learned to laugh. You've gotten out of control over the past year or so. But we'll fix that. Meanwhile, a simple little operation could give you a permanent smile, stretching from ear to ear. But never mind. My orders are to deliver you and all the equipment we have taken from you intact. The Heaven-Born has taken a fancy."

"And who," I asked, "is this Heaven-Born?"

"And who," I asked, "is this Heaven-Born?"

"San-Lan," he replied, "misbegotten spawn of the late High Priestess Nlui-Mok, and now Most Glorious Air Lord of All the Hans." He rolled out these titles with a bow of exaggerated respect toward the west, and in a tone of mockery. Those of his men who were near enough to hear, snickered and giggled.

"San-Lan," he replied, "the illegitimate offspring of the late High Priestess Nlui-Mok, and now Most Glorious Air Lord of All the Hans." He recited these titles mockingly, bowing toward the west with exaggerated respect. His men who were close enough to hear snickered and giggled.

I was to learn that this amazing attitude of his was typical rather than exceptional. Strange as it may seem, no Han rendered any respect to another, nor expected it in return; that is, not genuine respect. Their discipline was rigid and cold-bloodedly heartless. The most elaborate courtesies were demanded and accorded among equals and from inferiors to superiors, but such was the intelligence and moral degradation of this remarkable race, that every one of them recognized these courtesies for what they were; they must of necessity have been hollow mockeries. They took pleasure in forcing one another to go through with them, each trying to outdo the other in cynical, sardonic thrusts, clothed in the most meticulously ceremonious courtesy. As a matter of fact, my captor, by this crude reference to the origin of his ruler, was merely proving himself a crude fellow, guilty of a vulgarity rather than of a treasonable or disrespectful remark. An officer of higher rank and better breeding, would have managed a clever innuendo, less direct, but equally plain.

I would learn that his amazing attitude was typical, not exceptional. Strange as it may seem, no Han showed another genuine respect or expected it in return. Their discipline was rigid and cold-bloodedly heartless. Elaborate courtesies were demanded and shown among equals, and by inferiors to superiors. But this remarkable race was so intelligent and morally degraded that everyone recognized these courtesies for what they were. They could only be hollow mockeries. They enjoyed forcing one another to observe these courtesies. Each tried to outdo the other with cynical, sarcastic jabs, wrapped in the most meticulous ceremonial politeness. In fact, my captor’s crude reference to his ruler’s origin merely showed that he was a crude fellow. He had been vulgar, not treasonous or disrespectful. An officer of higher rank and better breeding would have made a clever hint, less direct but equally clear.

I was about to ask him what part of the country we were in and where I was to be taken, when one of his men came running to him with a little portable electronophone, which he placed before him, with much bowing and scraping.

I was about to ask him what part of the country we were in and where I was being taken. Just then, one of his men came running up with a small portable electronophone. He placed it before him, bowing and scraping as he did so.

He conversed through this for a while, and then condescended to give me the information that a ship would soon be above us, and that I was to be transferred to it. In telling me this, he managed to convey, with crude attempts at mock-courtesy, that he and his men would feel relieved to be rid of me as a menace to health and sanitation, and would take exquisite joy in inflicting me upon the crew of the ship.

He talked through it for a while, then finally deigned to tell me that a ship would soon be above us. I was to be transferred to it. As he told me this, he made crude attempts at mock courtesy. He made it clear that he and his men would be relieved to get rid of me, since I was a threat to health and sanitation. They would also take great delight in inflicting me on the ship’s crew.