Free Captain Future 13 - The Face of the Deep (Winter 1943) by Edmond Hamilton Page B

juices before it eats him!” exclaimed Curt. “Try to reach him.”
    But they couldn’t reach him. Each of them had a coiling branch around him. Only the fact that most of the tangle-tree’s branches were occupied with Grag made it possible for them to avoid being drawn in also.
    Grag, bellowing in rage and completely covered by sticky plant-juice, was now being drawn remorselessly down into the hollow calyx of the trunk. He disappeared inside it, though his muffled roaring still sounded.
    “Good Lord, he’s g-g-gone!” stammered McClinton. “The thing has d-d-devoured him.”
    But after a few moments, during which they fought to free themselves, Grag was suddenly drawn up again from the calyx of the tree.
    The robot was held as before, while the sticky digestive juices of the carnivorous tree spurted again over his raging figure.
    Otho uttered a mirthful shout as he tore himself free from the branch holding him. “The tree couldn’t digest Grag’s iron carcass that time, so it’s going to try again.”
    In fact, Grag was now being drawn back down into the calyx of the massive trunk. Again came his muffled bellowing. Curt and McClinton had by now managed to release themselves also.
    But there was no need for the three to spring forward to Grag’s aid. For now the robot was being hoisted up again out of the calyx. And with an almost human gesture of disappointment and disgust, the tangle-tree’s gripping branches hurled the robot away. He flew through the air and lit upon the soft ground some distance away, with a resounding thud.
    Otho collapsed in a fit of laughter when they reached Grag’s side. “The thing couldn’t digest Grag, nohow! I’ll never forget how he looked squirming up there with the tangle-tree hopefully squirting sap over him!”
    “Laugh, you misbegotten son of a test-tube!” roared Grag furiously.
    The big robot was a ludicrous figure, smeared from head to foot with thick green plant-juice.
    Curt, too, was shaking with mirth. “It’s lucky the tree did happen to grab you instead of one of us,” he consoled the angry robot. “Any one of us would have found it no joke.”
    Grag ruefully tried to clean himself off. “Of all the screwy forms of life that I ever —”
    Captain Future suddenly interrupted, holding up his hand sharply. “Listen! I heard a cry!”
    A distant yell came to them through the green gloom of the weird forest.
    “One of the other parties has run into trouble!” Curt exclaimed. “Come on!”
    They plunged through the jungle in the direction from which the cry had come. Now they could hear a chorus of alarmed voices.
    It was one of the work-parties headed by Grabo, the Jovian, that was doing the shouting. The squat Jovian pirate turned as Curt and his companions appeared.
    “Look at those things!” he exclaimed. “We don’t know what to make of ‘em.”
     
    CURT NEWTON stared. He too, in all his extensive experience with the strange life of far worlds, had seen no creatures such as these.
    There were six of the creatures, and they were busily working in a little open glade of the forest. Each of the things looked like a giant centipede, with an oddly geometrical body eight feet long and many square legs set along it. They were carrying slabs of stone along.
    A closer look revealed the amazing details of their appearance. Each of these big creatures appeared to be composed of scores of small, living fleshy pink cubes. Each cube was four inches square, and had two twinkling, bright little eyes and a small mouth-opening.
    “Why, I never saw anything like these before,” Captain Future muttered, stepping forward.
    “You haven’t seen the half of it yet!” exclaimed Grabo. “They can split themselves up when we start toward ‘em. Look at ‘em! They’re doing it again!”
    The weird, geometrical creatures had until now ignored Curt Newton and the others, diligently resuming their work of carrying away the stone slabs.
    But now, as Captain Future