The Lost World MEGAPACK®. Lin Carter

has the advantage. He has more men and more arms. Good Lord, what can we do?”

      It was not stalemate. It was certain victory for the enemy.

      * * * *

      Dusk came, as the sun slowly sank. Darkness settled over the valley of invisibility and terror. And menace.

      “Suppose they attack at night?” Jondra breathed.

      “I doubt it,” the Invisible Robin Hood said. “Darkness gives us more advantage than they, on the defensive. All blitzkrieg tactics take full advantage of the best, not the worst of conditions. However, we’ll take precautions. I’ll stand guard outside. Crane, you sleep at the door. The rest back in the cave.”

      The night hours wore away. Crane awoke from the doze he had achieved, disturbed by some sound in the forest’s night quiet. The stealthy pad of feet! Closer they came, silently shrieking of threat.

      Where was the Invisible Robin Hood? Why wasn’t he on the job? Had he left them exposed to throat-slitting by the invisible Harlan?

      Quivering at the frightful thought, Crane raised his rifle. He felt blind and helpless, as so often before. How could he fight an unseen presence who could come from any side, strike at any unannounced moment?

      Was a sharp knife even at that moment sweeping toward his unprotected back?

      The next sound Crane heard was the most welcome in the world. It was a sniff. An animal sniff, followed by the low growl of an invisible bear, snooping around the camp for tidbits of food, most likely.

      Crane fumbled for a piece of the deer meat and tossed it out.

      “Here you are, old top,” he whispered. “I’m glad it’s you rather than a certain invisible snake. Hope all your children are visible. Now scram.”

      A pleased grunt sounded, and the slice of meat floated off into the starlit night.

      Crane didn’t doze any more. Dawn was breaking. A new day was here—the day that would tell the story, one way or another.

      A hand gripped his shoulder.

      “I’m back, Crane.”

      “Robin Hood! Where were you? Damn you, man, do you realize you left us at the mercy of Harlan, if he had come?”

      “I knew he wouldn’t,” the unseen man said calmly. “He was too busy guarding his own camp. Besides, it’s chilly at night. Don’t forget, he has to run around naked. His clothes are still visible.

      “I went to their camp. I had grenades along. I thought of blowing the plane up, with them all inside. But only four were in. The rest were elsewhere, in some cliff cave I’d have to search for all night. If I did eliminate the four, Harlan would again have raced here and bombed this camp to smithereens. Any way I looked at it, they would come out ahead.”

      His voice changed to bafflement.

      “I’ve been thinking all night, hoping to figure out some other plan. We must try something soon, now that day is here—”

      “For Pete’s sake!” Crane exclaimed, thumping his head with his knuckles. “What am I waiting for? If Harlan could become invisible, why can’t I? Two invisible men against one and we can get him!”

      He was already ducking into the cave, striding for the work bench at the rear and its bottles and cans of invisible blood. He picked up a flask, apparently empty, but heavy with its unseen contents.

      Pulling out the stopper, Crane filled a hypodermic lying nearby. Eagerly he brought the needle close to his left arm’s largest vein, for injection.

      A hand knocked the hypodermic away, shattering it on the ground.

      Dr. Damon had watched, rubbing his eyes, and then bounded from his bunk.

      “You fool!” he barked. “That stuff is poison. I would have suggested it yesterday, except for that. Any animal blood is poison in a human being’s veins, except certain types of anthropoid blood. Harlan will be dead before this day is over!”

      “Did he know that?” Crane gasped.

      The scientist nodded.

      “The fifth columnists are fanatics,” the Invisible Robin Hood remarked. “Harlan sacrificed his life for the cause.”

      The words seemed to echo in the cave.

      Crane picked up another hypodermic, grimly.

      “Two invisible men against one, and we have a chance—”

      Dr. Damon looked at him, but said nothing. The Invisible Robin Hood made no move to interfere. They would have to stand aside now, and watch deliberate suicide.

      With a tightening of his lips, Crane prepared to plunge the needle home. Again it was knocked out of his hands.

      “I can’t let you!” Jondra sobbed. “Isn’t there anything else we can do?”

      She was facing the spot at which the Invisible Robin Hood stood, bitterly. “In smashing the fifth column, Mr. Robin Hood, you’re smashing us just as ruthlessly. You started all this—by not exposing Harlan at the beginning. You played the game your way, and we suffer as pawns. There’s probably no room for emotion—love, for instance—in your career of giant-killing. You’re just a cold, unfeeling human robot—”

      The tirade ended in a choke, as the girl buried her head against Crane’s chest.

      Love! That was a queer thing to bring up in this valley of hate and death and menace.

      An aura of sudden sadness radiated from the unseen man. Crane could feel it. Hard he might be at times, striving for his goals at any cost, but beneath it he was human. And somewhere, something had seared his soul—but still left him human.

      There was the merest murmur.

      “Love? I loved a girl once. She is like you, fair, sweet…”

      The voice trailed away. Then it spoke softly again.

      “Wait here. I’ll investigate the enemy’s activity. If anything else can be done—”

      He was gone.

      * * * *

      His voice was still soft when he returned, an hour later. Soft but grim.

      “They’ve set up three field guns, about two miles back. Judging by their positions, and the stacks of ammunition beside them, they’re ready to bombard this entire end of the valley. Raze it flat!”

      Broooommmm!

      The dull thump sounded, followed a few seconds later by a ground-shaking roar. A quarter-mile to the left of them, where the shell landed, a shower of dirt sprayed into the air. With it, unseen, had gone a shredding of the valley’s shadow-life.

      A second shell landed fifty feet nearer. A third still nearer, bringing down on them a fine stinging hail. The artillerists were finding the range rapidly.

      “They’ll systematically sweep every inch of our end of the valley,” the Invisible Robin Hood said, still softly. “Everything will go—forest, cave, animals, dragons—”

      “Dragons!” It was Pierre’s voice, in a deadly rage. “They kill dragon! Fear dragon! But I will kill them! I, Pierre, will lead my dragons—”

      He lapsed into rapid French, shaking his fist in the direction of the thumping guns. The others watched in astonishment.

      “Pierre!” Crane snapped. “Keep your head, now of all times. We need every man—”

      He stopped, gasping. Pierre was stripping off his clothes. The garments dropped. The body exposed was translucent. Direct rays of the sun stabbed through and through, outlining the bones. And rapidly, even the skeleton was fading into the unseen background of air, as the hormone of invisibility bleached the guide beyond the color-spectrum faster than any dye had ever worked.

      “Pierre!”