Cry Chaos!

CRY CHAOS!

By Dwight V. Swain

The dark star held a dread secret that Gar
Shane had to discover before our solar system was
destroyed. But to go there meant certain death....

They got the great silver ship's hatches pried open, finally, and dragged Shane out by his heels. They dumped him on his face in the gravel and cinders of the ramp like a pole-axed
huecco
.

He wasn't a particularly big man, as men came out here in the spaceways. But there was a spare, hard quality to his close-knit body, and the old scars that marked him told of forgotten battles, bitter fights to the death with no quarter asked or given. Strange suns had burnt him dark as a
Malya
. Mercury's blazing sands, the high deserts of Mars, had dulled the crisp brown of his hair. Faint bluish pockmarks along his left cheek bespoke Pluto and the ice-things that dwelt there.

And the
Chonya
belt still girded his waist; the great iron belt of the asteroids, one link for every chief who'd vowed fealty, eternal symbol of his power as
gar
.

So he lay there in the dirt of the ramp like a dog, while the motley rabble that were his captors gathered round. And because he was the man he was; because of the stories and scars; above all, because of that great iron belt of brotherhood he wore, the token of his might, they hung back just a little, still touched by awe of this fallen great one.

Only then Shane's eyes opened—eyes of that strange, pale blue found only among Earthmen; blank now, unseeing. His fingers scrabbled the dirt. Saliva drooled from the loose mouth and puddled beneath his cheek.

Explosively, a hard-faced Venusian
Pervod
laughed. "I claim the belt!" he cried, and sprang forward, reptilian claws gouging Shane's flesh, rolling the Earthman over.

An incoherent, protestful sound rose in Shane's throat. His mouth worked, and his hands batted clumsily at the
Pervod's
claws.

The Venusian's laugh rang out again—harsh, contemptuous. Skillfully, he fended Shane's blows with bony vestigial wings. His claws worked at the boss that clasped the belt.

Shane's blue eyes lost a little of their blankness. The loose mouth drew in a fraction. "No!" he choked. "No!" He clutched at the
Pervod's
wrists; tried to pull them away.

The
Pervod
twisted free. His claws left bloody paths across Shane's palms. Catching the Earthman's shoulders, he lifted him half clear of the ramp, then slammed him down again with stunning force.

Shane lay limp—panting, head lolled to one side.

The
Pervod
unclasped the belt and pulled it free of Shane's body.

Feebly, Shane clutched for the Venusian's ankle, and missed. Shaking, sobbing for breath, he struggled to a sitting position, bracing himself with his arms.

The
Pervod
dangled the belt tantalizingly. "Do you want it, Earthman?" he mocked. "Come get it—quick, while you have the chance!"

Veins stood out at Shane's temples. His fingers dug into the dirt. He brought one leg forward—levered up on it, lurched to his feet, stood swaying.

"The belt of the
Chonyas
!" the
Pervod
shrilled gleefully. "Here it is,
starbo
! The belt of a
gar
for the taking!"

He flicked the belt past Shane's face.

The Earthman lunged for it, staggering wildly. Only collision with the hull of the space ship kept him from pitching to the ground again.

"What? You don't want it?" cried the
Pervod
, sidling closer. "I thought you were
gar
of the asteroids,
yanat
—high chief of the
Chonyas
! Why don't you take your belt?"

Again Shane lunged. But this time the Venusian did not dart away. Instead, he ducked beneath the Earthman's outstretched arms and hurled his whole weight into Shane's middle.

Shane catapulted backward under the impact and crashed against a heavy-thewed Uranian.

"Not there,
Gar
Shane! Here! This way!" shrilled the Venusian.

The Uranian gave Shane a monstrous shove toward the
Pervod
.

But the Venusian side-stepped swiftly. Shane lurched past him, into the arms of a ghoulishly grinning Martian.

The Martian, in turn, shoved Shane on, sent him caroming off at yet another angle. From one to another they drove him, bouncing him about the ring they had formed like the huge ball in a game of
ha lao
. And all the time the
Pervod
danced and waved the belt and shrieked sadistic laughter.

And then, just once, he came too close.

Like the flash of a meteor, Shane's hand shot out. He caught one end of the belt and let it bring him up short.

His weight jerked the Venusian off balance. Before the
Pervod
could recover, Shane was upon him.

Claws slashing, the reptilian fought to hold the belt.

Only then, of a sudden, Shane let go of the precious links of iron. Catching the
Pervod's
wrist, turning as he moved, he ducked between arm and body and levered the arm up behind the Venusian's back.

The brittle reptilian bones snapped with a sound like the crackling of an angry fire. The
Pervod
shrieked in anguish.

The crowd stood frozen in stunned, unbelieving silence.

Shane caught the end of the iron belt and flicked it out in a loop that circled the
Pervod's
scaly throat. Then, one end in each hand, he whipped it tight.

The Venusian's scream cut off in mid-breath. His legs, his unbroken arm, flailed desperately.

But Shane stayed behind him, out of reach of the murderous claws, drawing the belt ever tighter.

The
Pervod
sagged.

The crowd's paralysis broke. The air rang with shouts. Beings from a dozen far-flung planets rushed forward.

The muscles in Shane's arms and shoulders bulged. Belt-ends still tight in his hands, he spun about, dragging the Venusian with him, elbowing the others out of the way. Faster he turned, and faster ... faster, till he was whirling like some monstrous gyro-top, the body of the
Pervod
swinging in a giant arc beyond him, clubbing the other raiders down.

They scrambled back as fast as they'd come, the laughter, the mockery, dead within them.

Shane let go one end of the belt. The
Pervod's
body shot out like a stone from a sling, the head half torn from the torso.

Dizzily, the Earthman lurched to the space ship and braced himself against it. Then, very deliberately, he slung the belt about his waist and snapped the clasp. The blue eyes flamed, no longer blank. Knots of muscle stood out at the hinges of his jaws.

"Who
dares
to try take the iron belt of the asteroids?" he shouted at the rabble ring that hemmed him in.

No one moved. No one spoke.

Shane swept them with cold, contemptuous eyes. "Scum!" he spat. "Scum of the spaceways! Carrion, one and all!"

But he swayed as he said it, and his face showed white beneath the tan.

"Scum ..." he repeated in a voice gone dead, and pitched forward, unconscious, to the ground.