Savagely, Ron Farr tore and blasted through the
Saturnian moon's jungle, snarling at the timid
natives to keep their distance. He sought
eternal life—and they might get in his way....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1947.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Others before him had tried—and failed. Ron Farr meant to succeed. Hehad come fully prepared to surmount whatever obstacles might lie inhis path, to conquer the dread guardian jungle and its unknown terrorsand return triumphant to Earth, master of destiny and possessor ofundreamed of power.
Farr knew the obstacles would be there, for he sought the secret ofeternal life, the fabulous elixir that lay hidden somewhere on Phoebe,enigmatic moon of Saturn, and there was little doubt in his mind thatthe ancients of the ringed planet had made ample provision for theprotection of this, their most cherished treasure. One by one, a dozeneager men had gone in quest of the secret—none had returned. That wasenough proof for him.
But, in spite of this grim evidence, Farr was not afraid. He wasready to face death itself, if need be, to gain the goal that wouldprostrate the world at his feet. He was ready to face death, but hehad taken every precaution against it. For instance, in selecting alikely landing place, he had shunned the area in which the life secretwas reputed to be, for his instruments had detected some sort offorce-field above the region. Invisible to the eye, the field wouldhave crushed his ship in an instant, had he attempted to enter the areawithout consulting the instrument panel.
The region was boxed in on three sides by sheer cliffs, leaving but oneavenue of approach. That was through the dense and foreboding junglethat stretched for miles across the face of the canyon.
Farr had taken that avenue. Now, as he stepped from his ship andregarded the jungle's fringe with clear, steady eyes, he lookedanything but the ruthless brigand he was.
Straight black hair, high forehead, firm, unsmiling lips—all gave theman the appearance of a gentlemanly scholar. But behind those austerefeatures lurked a cunning, treacherous mind. That he should be seekingthe secret of eternal life in so surreptitious a manner was proof thatthe gaining of it would be put to his own advantage, and not to thebenefit of mankind.
Now the thin lips parted in a wry smile as his searching gaze focusedon a group of watchful creatures gathered silently at the jungle'sedge. Somber eyes stared unwinkingly back at him.
Harmless beings, these, the Mumums of Phoebe. They resembled Earthlypygmies in stature, but were wholly alien in anatomy. Hairless andebon-skinned, they wore only a loincloth as protection against theelements. Depending from this brief garment by means of a length ofchain swung a small silvery, tubelike affair. Some sort of tribalfetish, Farr thought, intended to ward off evil spirits. The tubesgave off a musical tinkling whenever the pygmies moved, and he almosthad to laugh at their ignorance in believing such nonsense could avertsickness and injury.
They seemed to be attempting to bar his way. He drew his blaster andbalanced it in his hand, smiling grimly. If nothing more ferocious thanthese miserable beings were to test his strength and cunning, securingthe life secret was going to be an easy task.
He stepped forward. The Mumums did not move. His steps brought himcloser, and still they remained in his way. Farr curled his lips andraised his blaster. If it was necessary to teach them a lesson, hewould.
One m