“Even the libraries, which would have been of inestimable value to them, were on the airless surface of Ma Gong where they could not be reached, and most of these had been destroyed by the meteoric clusters projected from Lu Gong. The others succumbed to age and the incessant battering of planetesimal particles which followed the destruction of our atmosphere, before they could be reached.
“The eldest son of P’an-ku, who became P’an-ku at the death of his father, had been commander in chief of our interplanetary war fleets, and had been taken prisoner by the ruler of Lu Gong. He had left a wife with child, and she fled with the few hundreds who were the progenitors of our present race into the great caverns of our world. There a male child was born to her, and as he was the eldest son of that P’an-ku who never came back to us, he was the hereditary ruler of my people, and his descendants have directed their destinies ever since.
“Nearly a thousand years after the great war, our ancestors, who had multiplied in numbers and increased in knowledge, were able to construct suits in which they could explore the surface of our world, breathing air which was concentrated in tanks they carried with them. While searching the ruins of the ancient capital of P’an-ku, they came upon a metal cylinder which contained a message left there by his eldest son a thousand years before. It stated that he had escaped from Lu Gong, as there were none left alive there to detain him, and had come to Ma Gong in his one man space flyer, only to find his world destitute of people and untenable because of its lack of atmosphere.
“He stated that he was leaving for Du Gong—that world inhabited, in those days, by strange monsters and savage peoples, and that he would never have deserted Ma Gong had he found but a single one of his subjects alive, but that he could no longer stay in a dead world when there was a chance that he might find life and an empire in a live one. In closing, he implored the Great Lord Sun to pardon him for† this desire to live and, if possible, perpetuate his race and his imperial line.”
“But what of the white race which now inhabits Ma Gong?” asked the professor. “Whence did they come?”
“About twelve hundred years after the great war,” said Kwan Tsu Khan, “a party of our ancestors who were exploring the surface of our world, met a party of white people, descendants of the Lu Gong colonists they afterward learned, who had fled to the inner caverns during the great war. They, too, had invented heat proof, cold proof suits and concentrated air tanks which enabled them to travel on the crust of our world. A parley was started, but because of the great hatred between the two races, a quarrel quickly became a battle, and only a few of the explorers from either side returned to tell their stories to their respective countrymen.
“This started a war between the two races once more, and my people were conquered because, while the enemy had succeeded in manufacturing their red ray projectors, our scientists had been unable, thus far, to reproduce the green ray projectors of their ancestors. For hundreds of years thereafter the heirs of P’an-ku ruled only as viceroys for the emperors of the white race. This lasted until half a century ago, when our people were freed by a magnanimous and peace loving ruler of the white people named Mazo Khan. The languages of the two races were, meanwhile, fused into one, which is now the universal speech of Ma Gong.
“Our scientists had been quietly at work for centuries, endeavoring to regain the secret of the green ray, as well as to reconstruct interplanetary vehicles as efficient as those of their ancestors. When they were set free by the magnanimous Mazo Khan work went on with redoubled vigor and, as you see, we now have both.
“The present ruler of the white race, who still calls herself ‘Maza of Ma Gong,’ the hereditary title of the supreme ruler of Ma Gong, is the granddaughter of the man who set us free, and even though she may desire to once more enslave us, she cannot do so because we now have the green ray and the interplanetary vehicles.
“We, on our part, could enslave her and her people only† by a terrific loss of life on both sides, so we prefer to leave her unmolested as long as she does not bother us, and extend our conquests along lines of less resistance for the present. Of course we must conquer her people eventually, for there cannot be two rulers of Ma Gong, but the time is not yet ripe.
“The arrested motion of the vehicle tells me that we are now at our destination, so I must leave the globe for a while. If you will give me your word that you will not attempt to escape I will permit you the freedom of my ship.”
“Where are we?” asked the professor.
“We are in the capital city of the descendants of that P’an-ku who visited your world many thousands of years ago. I am to meet some of his descendants in conference.”
“I will give you my word not to try to escape,” said the professor.
“Very well. So long as you stay on the ship you will be unmolested.”
He pressed a button in the wall behind him, and Lin Ching instantly opened the door.
“You will permit the wise Khan, Am-Er-I, the freedom of the ship, Lin Ching,” he said, “but you will see that he is either recaptured or killed if he attempts to leave it.”
“Lin Ching hears, and Lin Ching obeys,” replied that individual, bowing the professor out of the room.
The professor strolled around the ship, examining its interior with considerable interest. Then he opened one of the diamond-shaped doors, and stepped out onto the bridge—instantly recognizing a section of Peiping with which he was familiar. He saw that the other two flying globes hovered near the one he was on and that several Lunites were descending each of the swaying ladders which hung down from the interplanetary vehicles.
He was gazing idly down at the crowd which milled in the street below him, when he suddenly spied a familiar face looking curiously up at him. A smile of recognition crossed the face of the Chinaman in the crowd beneath, but the professor instantly made a gesture of caution and then indicated that he wanted his friend to wait below him.
Hastily jerking pencil and notebook from his pocket, the professor quickly wrote a short note in Chinese characters. It was addressed to General Fu Yen, its contents as follows:
“I am a prisoner on a lunar globe, and have given my word of honor that I will not try to escape while here. I have not, however, made any promise that I will not write notes to my friends.
“My captors are now negotiating with your government for the purpose of finally signing the agreement which will make your people the subjects of a round-bodied monarch who calls himself P’an-ku, and rules a race which inhabits the moon.
“Your people have fought and bled for freedom and a voice in their government. Are they going to renounce all this now? You, and you only, my friend, can save them. Act quickly if you would not be too late.
Sincerely,
Geo. Ederson.”
Crumpling the note into a ball, the professor called softly to the man below, who instantly took off his large helmet and held it upside down. Into this wide, inverted bowl, the professor dropped the note.
“For Fu Yen,” he called, softly.
The Chinaman nodded, pocketed the note, replaced his hat on his head, and moved away, a part of the crowd.
Then, with unexpected suddenness, vise-like fingers closed on the neck of the professor, and he was shaken like a rat.
“Worm,” grated a voice in his ear. “Tell me what you tossed to that person in the crowd, or by the Great Lord Sun, you shall not live to say aught else.”
XV. MOON TRAVEL
Awakened with each of his arms pinned to the ground by an armored warrior and the sword of a third who knelt on his chest menacing his throat, Ted blinked dazedly and wondered if he was indeed awake, or only dreaming.
Then he heard the voice of Maza utter a sharp command.
The three warriors instantly released him and stood at attention as he rose unsteadily to his feet. Evidently these were her own soldiers who had mistaken him for an enemy. Their white skins and non-Mongoloid features showed that they were not of the race of P’an-ku.
At a second command from the girl the men filed down to the water’s edge, where a long, low craft constructed of white metal, was moored. It was fashioned in the shape of a flying dragon like the one he had seen the girl riding some time before, the metallic wings held upward with edges closing at the top to make a fantastic roof for the cabin. As it was without rudder, oars or paddles, Ted was puzzled as to its means of locomotion.
Beckoning him to follow, the girl leaped lightly aboard. As the earth man stepped in after her, one of the warriors pushed off and another, seated in the prow before a small keyboard, pressed several buttons with his fingers. There was a roar from the rear of the craft and it shot backward into midstream. The helmsman pressed another row of buttons and the boat started down stream with a louder roar and a terrific burst of speed.
Making his way astern, Ted saw that the boat was both propelled and steered by two sets of three jointed pipes each, which extended from the back of the boat under water. Something, either highly compressed air or some other gas, rushed out of each pipe as the correct button was touched by the operator, and the wake, as a result, was a mass of seething bubbles. To turn right or left the helmsman had only to shut off the set of pipes on the side toward which he wished to go. To reverse the boat, he but needed to press buttons which bent the flexible jointed ends of the pipes downward and toward the front, thus reversing the direction of the pressure.
Going forward once more, Ted crouched by the side of the girl and watched the queer lunar scenery hurtle past them. The boat, he judged, must be making at least a hundred miles an hour, so his glimpses of the queer, subterranean flora and fauna were but cursory. The phosphorescent vegetation with its eerie luminosity persisted as league after league of the winding stream was left behind them. Gigantic flying reptiles sometimes darted downward at the boat, but invariably underestimated its great speed, striking the water from one to two hundred feet behind it, then rising to flap lazily and disgustedly away in search of other less elusive quarry.
After they had traveled in this manner for nearly six hours the helmsman suddenly reversed his power, bringing the craft to a stop before two huge, heavily barred gates which extended from the bottom of the stream to the surface of a great arch of masonry that marked the beginning of a tunnel.
A warrior in the stern then struck a gong three times, and the gates slowly swung back, whereupon the boat entered the tunnel, which was lighted from above by a soft, phosphorescent radiance that emanated from hemispherical dome lights placed at regular intervals. Armored guards with long spears in their hands, and swords and ray projectors strapped to their belts, stood on each side of the gateway before small block houses. Ted noticed that they reversed their spears and bent the knee as the boat passed—evidently the military obeisance to their ruler.
Three more gates, similarly guarded, were opened for them at distances of about a quarter of a mile apart along the tunnel. Then Ted saw, a short distance ahead, a fifth gate through which a flood of bright light poured. This gate, too, opened in response to three strokes of the gong, and the boat emerged into an open stream once more.
A few buildings of white stone dotted the banks of the stream, which appeared to be under cultivation. Each of the buildings was surmounted by an enormous metal contrivance supported by a shaft that projected upward from the center of the roof, and was shaped like an umbrella turned inside out. That these were for the purpose of capturing and in some way utilizing the sun’s energy, Ted did not doubt.
Noticing that all were tilted at precisely the same angle, he glanced upward to note the position of the sun, only to meet with a new surprise, for the entire valley into which they had come, nearly ten miles in width at this point, was roofed over with a vault of glass, fitted in large frames and braced with elaborately constructed metal arches. The nearer walls of the valley rose, sheer and rugged, for about two miles. The farther walls were shrouded in blue mist that made them barely discernible.
Presently the boat stopped at a dock which projected out over the water from the side of a large building surmounted by a tall, round tower. Four taut cables, stretching from a row of similar towers about a mile to the left, passed through a great arched opening near the top of the tower, continuing through a row of towers, the first of which was about a mile to the right.
Two attendants saluted with bent knees and bowed heads, then held the boat while Maza and Ted stepped out.
They entered a building and passed through a large, arched room where a number of men, women and children bent the knee as Maza passed. A few of the men wore armor and carried weapons, but the greater number appeared to be civilians. Among these, the men wore brightly colored sleeveless cloth jackets that reached to their thighs and were belted about the waist, and which included nearly all the colors of the rainbow. They were bare armed and bare legged, and many were bare footed, although a few wore coarse sandals of plaited grass held by strands of grass rope.
The women were uniformly attired in white, clinging garments of translucent material that half revealed, half concealed their forms, and Ted was struck by this contrast to earthly customs where women dress brightly and men usually wear somber colors.
The very small children romped about quite naked. Those a little older wore breech clouts, and the larger imitated their elders according to their sexes.
Having crossed this room, Maza and Ted entered a lift which quickly whisked them to the place near the top of the tower which he had previously noticed, and through which the four cables were stretched. Suspended on overhead wheels from one of these cables was a bullet-shaped car of white metal with transparent panels in the sides and a sliding door near the center, which had apparently been held awaiting their coming.
An attendant closed the door after them as they stepped in and sank into luxuriously cushioned seats. Then the vehicle started smoothly, accelerating rapidly until Ted computed that they were going at least four hundred miles an hour.
As hour after hour slipped by and their speed continued unabated, Ted wondered at the great length of the valley. He consulted his wrist compass and noticed that they were traveling toward the southeast. The valley appeared quite uniform in width, and although there were a few wooded areas was, for the most part, apparently under cultivation. Most of the farms were irrigated by small ditches which branched out from a broad canal that extended down the center of the valley, and was fed from time to time, by streams which flowed through tunnels in the rocky walls on either side. Men and women were at work in the fields, some using farm machinery of unknown motive power, some assisted by dragon-like draft animals, and others using only hand tools.
Noticing that Ted was apparently trying to compute the distance and direction they had traveled, his companion took a rolled parchment from a pocket in the wall. It proved to be a map of the moon. She spread it out before them and pointed to the longest known lunar ray—the one which extends from the crater, Tycho, near the bottom of the southeast quadrant of the moon, curves across the southwest and northwest quadrants, and ends near the north pole in the Mare Frigoris.
With the pink tip of her dainty forefinger she indicated their start at the crater Hipparchus, their underground trip to the glassed over crack or valley in the moon’s surface which terrestrial astronomers had always referred to as “one of the rays of Tycho,” and the distance they had traveled since they entered the cable railway. She then pointed to Tycho and said: “Ultu.”
Ted understood from this that Tycho or “Ultu” was their destination, and was probably a subterranean lunar city. As Ultu was the center of the most extensive ray system on the moon, Ted assumed that it was probably the capital of one of the most populous nations.
When they had finished with the map, Ted took a note book and pencil from his pocket and wrote some of the Lunite words he had learned from the translation of Professor Ederson. The girl helped him to construct and pronounce sentences, indicating meanings by signs and by drawing pictures. Then Ted, in turn, helped his fair companion with her English. Thus the time was passed pleasantly until their arrival in Ultu.
When they reached the great central station, from which cable railways radiated in all directions, and Maza stepped out of the car, her easy camaraderie disappeared, and Ted saw her on her dignity as a royal princess.
Evidently the news of her escape from capture at the hands of P’an-ku had become the common property of all of her subjects, as the huge terminal was crowded with people and the city streets around it were so choked with human beings that all traffic had been suspended. Two files of soldiers held open a lane for her as she walked down from the landing platform to where a number of gorgeously decked individuals who sparkled with jewels, some in shining armor and others in civilian attire, waited to greet her with bent knees and what Ted took to be fervent exclamations of joy at her deliverance. These were evidently the great civil and military dignitaries of her realm.
Behind the lines of soldiers, the common people were equally demonstrative. Many of the men as well as the women, wept for joy. It was plain to be seen that the young ruler was as popular as she was beautiful.
Until they had reached the great arched opening which led to the street, Ted had walked behind Maza in company with two of her most magnificently attired nobles. When they reached this point, however, she took his arm and holding one hand aloft, addressed the people. To the surprise of Ted, they all burst into loud cheering when she had finished, and the great nobles crowded around him, jostling each other for the honor of kissing his hand. It was evident that he had been given quite favorable mention for his part in her rescue from the soldiers of P’an-ku and the flying reptile.
At the foot of the steps a carriage magnificently decked in silver and crimson and drawn by two wingless dragons awaited the Princess. She kept Ted’s arm, and together they descended the stairs. He assisted her into the carriage, but hesitated to enter until she took his hand and drew him in after her.
A path was instantly cleared for them by the soldiers, and the two great reptiles that had appeared so huge and awkward started away at a fast clip.
A few minutes ride took them to the imperial palace—an imposing building of shining black stone set in white metal in lieu of mortar.
Here Ted’s companion turned him over to a pompous appearing chamberlain who conducted him to a sumptuous private suite. A young, but well trained valet assisted him to remove his armor and drew a bath for him. After a refreshing bath and a shave, he was given a suit of shimmering golden yellow fabric trimmed with black binding, of a style worn by the nobles of the court. Then his attendant strapped comfortable, soft soled sandals on his feet, and buckled his belt containing his degravitors and pocket pouch, about his waist.
Presently the pompous chamberlain appeared at the door and beckoned to him. He followed the officer, who led him through a maze of hallways into a large, arched throne room, where Maza, attired in the gleaming white metal in which he had first seen her with his radiovisiphone—her golden hair held by a band of platinum-like metal powdered with glistening jewels—presided on a throne of scarlet and silver that was raised on a dias at one end of the room.
Standing at respectful attention on either side of the throne were her guards, men and women attendants, and notables both civil and military.
As he advanced beside the chamberlain, Ted noticed a familiar figure standing at the left near the foot of the throne—a venerable graybeard who wore a richly embroidered robe of dark blue. He instantly recognized him as the old man who had been with the princess when he had tried, for the second time, to communicate with the moon by radiovisiphone.
The court officer, having conducted him before the throne, bowed low and withdrew.
Although gracious and smiling, Maza was dignified, as befitted a royal princess at a formal audience. With such English words as she could muster, she introduced Ted to all the notables in turn, each of whom bowed low as his name was pronounced. The last one to be presented was the venerable graybeard.
“Ted Dustin, greatest scientist of Du Gong,” she said “give di tcha-tsi to Vanible Khan, greatest scientist of Ma Gong.”
“Di tcha-tsi,” said Ted, uttering this unintelligible word of greeting because it seemed the thing to do.
“Di tcha-tsi na mu,” replied the great Lunite, bowing profoundly.
“Vanible Khan, you will instruct Ted Dustin in our language, then report to me,” commanded Maza.
Making profound obeisance, the old man motioned Ted to follow him, and they departed. In the suite which had been assigned to him, Ted began his lessons that day. His slight knowledge of the Lunite language and Vanible Khan’s slight knowledge of English helped them greatly at the start. He learned that “di tcha-tsi” meant “no challenge” or “peace” and “na mu” was translated “to you.”
For two days the two scientists pursued their linguistic studies, stopping only to eat and sleep. Each found the other such an apt pupil that they progressed with amazing rapidity. Toward the end of the second day, Vanible Khan said:
“Come with me. I have something to show you.”
Together they went to the palace courtyard, where two flying dragons were saddled and ready for them.
“To direct your mount,” said Vanible Khan, “simply use our words for the right or left, up or down, or straight. The beast will proceed accordingly.”
Both men mounted.
“Up,” commanded Vanible Khan. “Up,” shouted Ted, and both beasts after running forward for a short distance with outspread wings, took to the air.
They presently alighted before a large building near the outskirts of the city, and leaving their mounts in charge of an attendant, entered a great, arched doorway.
Ted found himself in one of the largest factories he had ever seen. Hundreds of bullet shaped cars of a kind he had ridden in with Maza on his trip to Ultu were here being manufactured or repaired by thousands of busy workers.
He cried out in pleased surprise when he suddenly spied his own interplanetary vehicle. Evidently it had been brought in by the order of Maza, and had just arrived, for workmen were removing chains by which it had been carried.
“We have many skilled mechanics here,” said Vanible Khan. “If your flier can be repaired, you have but to command us.”
“Summon a headman,” said Ted, “and I will show him what to do.”
While the chief mechanic was being brought, Ted quickly took pad and pencil from his belt pouch and drew diagrams of the missing parts. Under his and Ted’s joint direction, with linguistic assistance when necessary, from Vanible Khan, the wreckage of the prow was cut away and orders were put through for the missing parts.
“In two days your flier will be ready,” said the chief mechanic, when he departed.
Two days later, when Ted, in company with Vanible Khan, called at the factory, he entered the cab, and closing it, flew about under the great arched roof of the factory. The motor and controls worked perfectly. Delighted, he returned to the assembling floor, invited his fellow scientist into the cab, and darting out of the large doorway, flew with him to the roof of the palace in a few seconds.
They had scarcely alighted from the craft when a messenger hurried breathlessly up to them, and bowed low.
“Her Imperial Majesty summons your lordships to the observation room, at once,” he said. “The people of Du Gong are in deadly peril.”
XVI. TED ATTACKS
Ted and his companion, Vanible Khan, hurried down a maze of stairways and hallways until they arrived in a large, square room, the walls of which were divided into panels. On each panel was a moving picture which seemed to shine through from the rear. An operator sat at a switchboard in the center of the room, pressing various buttons on the instrument before him from time to time.
Maza was there with two of her gigantic guards, and several of her oldest counselors. She pointed to one of the panels as they entered.
“P’an-ku is attacking your people with a terrible weapon, Ted Dustin,” she said. “Look.”
He looked at the panel she indicated, and saw as through a powerful telescope, a side view of the great lunar crater which he had learned to recognize as Copernicus. Shooting upward from the center of the crater was a bright band of green light.
“Now look at this picture,” continued Maza, pointing to another panel.
He looked, and saw a telescopic view of the earth. Despite the many storm areas which hid outlines of land and water, he made out the shape of North America, and saw that Washington and the territory surrounding it were in an immense spot of green light.
“What can those rays do at that distance?” he asked Vanible Khan.
“That,” replied the lunar scientist, thoughtfully stroking his long white beard, “depends wholly on the power of the ray projector which P’an-ku is employing. If powerful enough, the green rays will contract and destroy all matter which they come in contact. When nearly spent, they still have the power to remove much of the heat from everything they touch. I should say, off hand, that the area they reach at present is intensely cold—perhaps even uninhabitable for human beings.”
Ted turned suddenly to Maza.
“May I have a glass helmet and a suit of insulated armor?” he asked. “My own suit is useless until I can fit a new helmet to it.”
“You may, of course. But where are you going?”
“To destroy that green ray projector.”
“Ten thousand of my nak-kar cavalry will fly with you,” she said.
“You are very kind to offer help,” he replied, “but I prefer to go alone. This is my war and my people are being killed.”
“You refuse?” He could see that she was nettled.
“I decline with sincere thanks, if you please. Time is precious, and in my vehicle I can reach the projector before your flying beasts are well on the way, thereby saving many lives which otherwise might be sacrificed by delay.”
“Very well. It is your war now, because I have not yet officially declared war on P’an-ku. I will do so immediately. Then, if we cannot be allies, I will fight him in my way and you in yours.”
She turned to one of the armored nobles who stood nearby.
“See that Ted Dustin is outfitted for surface flying at once,” she commanded.
Fifteen minutes later, Ted stood on the roof of the palace attired in the bell-like glass helmet and white, wooly, insulated armor of Maza’s people. He fidgeted impatiently while a great nak-kar was being saddled in order that its rider might guide him up through one of the huge and tortuous air shafts which led from the subterranean city of Ultu to the ringed plain of Tycho above.
At his side stood Vanible Khan, stroking his long white beard and coolly supervising the preparations. When the flying dragon was saddled and its rider seated, the old scientist placed his hand on Ted’s shoulder, and said:
“You are taking desperate chances, boy. It is doubtful if you will ever get near enough to the projector to destroy it, but if you do you will almost certainly be killed. I bid you farewell, and my prayers and those of our people go with you.”
“I realize the chances and thank you for your good wishes. Goodbye,” replied Ted, closing his visor and turning to climb into his craft.
Just as he placed his foot on the lower step a hand was laid on his arm. He turned and saw Maza, flushed and panting from the exertion of hurriedly climbing to the roof. As he turned and looked down into her eyes he saw they were flashing with anger.
She reached up and raised his visor with dainty, pink-tipped fingers.
“How dare you leave me, Ted Dustin, without saying farewell,” she said. “Why you might n-never come back.”
A tear rolled down her velvety cheek, and she shook her fluffy head to dislodge it.
He started to bend over—to kiss her hand. Her eyes softened—drew him to the beautiful upturned face. Before he knew what had happened, he was kissing her, and she was returning his kiss with closed eyes, her arms around his neck, her small, lithe body close to his.
Suddenly he released her, leaped into the cab, and signaled the nak-kar rider that he was ready. He elevated his craft slowly while the great dragon clumsily lumbered forward with wings outspread—took to the air, and circled upward toward a dark opening above.
Although the flying reptile moved swiftly through the maze of passageways and caverns, evidently of volcanic origin, which led upward, it seemed to Ted that their progress was exceedingly slow. The nak-kar rider kept his bright head lamp lighted until they reached the surface, where it was no longer necessary. Then, with a wave of his hand, he indicated a vertical band of green light which emerged from the northeastern horizon, and made a circle of green light on the face of the earth.
With an answering wave of farewell, Ted seized the controls and gave the Lunite such an exhibition of speed as must have commanded his awe and wonder.
Flying high above the moon’s surface in the tenuous lunar atmosphere, he traveled at a speed far surpassing that of the bullet cars which the Lunites used in traversing the glazed ray-valleys. As he progressed toward Copernicus he noticed that the valleys which radiated from Tycho grew fewer and further apart, and that there were other glazed valleys coming down from the north. While the former had appeared a glistening white in the sunlight, these latter were yellowish in appearance, evidently due to the fact that they were roofed with amber instead of clear glass. The great green ray, the projector of which it was his purpose to destroy, gave him the exact location of Copernicus and showed him that these yellow ray-valleys ramified from that place.
He was less than a hundred miles from his objective when the spherical bulk of a lunar flying globe suddenly loomed ahead. A deadly green ray instantly shot toward him, but Ted was now ready to profit by his first experience with the war globes of P’an-ku.
Instead of continuing on his course, he suddenly dropped for a thousand feet, and while manipulating his atomotor with his left hand brought a degravitor gun into play with his right. His aim was true, and the forward revolving disc of the flying globe flashed and disappeared when struck by the invisible rays. The globe instantly made a half turn and commenced a swift nose dive groundward. Before the aft disc could be reversed, Ted aimed his degravitor at this, also, destroying it instantly. A half dozen green rays shot out from various parts of the globe, flashing like the spokes of a giant wheel as the craft hurtled to the ground—then disappeared as a lurid explosion announced the destruction of the ship.
Fearing that, having been seen by the aerial patrol, his presence had been announced by radio, Ted decided to attack at once. He therefore aimed his craft as if it had been a projectile, in a curved trajectory which would carry him at a height of about ten miles over the huge rim of Copernicus, and downward toward the central source of light. With both forward degravitors turned on and the atomotor running at the maximum speed possible in the presence of the tenuous atmospheric gases, the craft instantly became a terrific missile of destruction.
So swiftly did it fly that the view of the rugged, crater-pitted landscape beneath became blurred, despite the great size and sharp detail of the major formations.
Ted spotted his objective before he was above the great outer ring of Copernicus. It was the tallest of the five great central mountain peaks which project upward from the floor of the crater. The great green ray which was trained on the earth was coming directly from the tip of this peak, and the entire crater of the mighty ring mountain was bathed in a weird green light, evidently reflections of the ray from the glistening walls and peaks.
In a moment Ted was directly over the southwest rim of the huge crater. Instantly, he pointed his craft downward, and the invisible rays of the two forward degravitors struck the peak of the tallest inner mountain—still more than thirty miles away. Even at that distance the telltale flash from the mountain top told him that his aim was true. Then, with degravitors set rigidly in position, he dived straight for his target.
From one of the pits beneath, a green ray of ordinary dimensions suddenly burst forth. Others flashed out, searching the sky for the marauder who had dared this attack on the mighty ray projector of P’an-ku. But Ted was flying so swiftly and his craft was so high in the air and so small that it was not easy for the Lunites to locate him. At the moment they only knew of his presence because the tip of the mountain peak which surrounded their green ray projector was rapidly melting away under the attack of his invisible rays.
As he progressed toward the central peak, Ted noticed that the searching green rays grew thicker and thicker. Suddenly one sheared away the stern of his craft, and with it the rear atomotor outlets. The crippled vehicle was carried forward for a few seconds by its own momentum, but gradually succumbing to the insistent pull of gravity it deviated from its course—wobbled unsteadily, and began to fall groundward.
Releasing his now useless atomotor controls, Ted concentrated his attention on the two forward degravitors. As his ship fell, wobbling this way and that, he kept his two ray guns steadily pointed at the mountain top from which the great green ray emerged. His craft was falling with terrific speed when he had the satisfaction of seeing the green ray wink out, and the section of the mountain top containing what was left of the projecting machinery, topple over, hurtle down the mountainside in an avalanche of debris, and crash to the ground in an enormous cloud of dust and smoke.
But he had not noticed his own proximity to the crater floor. There came a sudden shock that smashed the keel of his craft like an egg shell—then oblivion.
XVII. ALLIANCE
Standing before the big radiovisiphone of the President of the United States, in Washington, Roger Sanders waited impatiently for the silencing of all terrestrial stations that he might be tuned in with Ted Dustin’s powerful super-station which was to relay a message from the moon.
Presently the signal: “All clear,” came through, and Roger, looking into the disc of the President’s instrument, saw, as if reflected in a mirror, the huge disc of Ted’s radiovisiphone with the operator seated before it manipulating the dials.
Indistinct figures appeared a number of times in the pellucid depths of the great disc, and there were a few unintelligible sounds. Then it suddenly cleared, and Roger and President Whitmore were dazzled, as before, by the appearance of the beautiful Maza with two armored guards and the aged scientist, Vanible Khan.
To the surprise of both, Vanible Khan addressed them in English.
“Despite the powerful interference waves broadcasted by P’an-ku, we have at last succeeded in breaking through,” he said. “Do I address friends of Ted Dustin?”
“You are speaking to his superior, President Whitmore of the United States of America, and also to his assistant, Roger Sanders,” replied Roger.
“That is indeed fortunate,” said the old scientist, smiling. “I am Vanible Khan, chief scientist of Ma Gong, and speak for Her Imperial Majesty, Maza an Ma Gong. She bids me inform you that Ted Dustin left Ultu, her capital, which is situated beneath the crater which you on Du Gong call ‘Tycho,’ two revolutions of your planet ago. He went with the avowed intention of destroying the projector of the great green ray which was turned on your world. It appears that he has succeeded in destroying the ray, but as he has not returned we assume that he has either been killed or captured. The ray, as you are no doubt aware, was projected from a central peak of the ring mountain which you call Copernicus. Beneath this mountain is the capital city of P’an-ku, which is called Peilong.
“Since the departure of Ted Dustin, Her Majesty has declared war on P’an-ku. Tonight she will personally conduct a mighty army which will march on Peilong through the subterranean forests. She has not thought it wise to use her nak-kars—the flying beasts which can live for nine of your days without air—because of their slowness and inefficiency compared to P’an-ku’s flying globes.
“She intends to attack Peilong in five of your days. If you, the friends of Ted Dustin, have a way to simultaneously strike from above, it is possible that we may save him or avenge his death, and subdue P’an-ku, thus bringing about peace between the peoples of Du Gong and the yellow race of Ma Gong.
“Her Majesty awaits your answer.”
“I have a way,” replied Roger, half turning toward the President as he spoke. “The powerful interplanetary battleship we are building will be ready in four days. With your permission I will then leave for the moon, and will attack Peilong in conjunction with the army of Her Majesty.”
“But what of the flying globes of P’an-ku?” asked the President “He may have hundreds of them, in which case your task will be hopeless, and we’ll have nobody left to run the Dustin factory.”
“The factory can run under the directions of our superintendents whether Ted and I are present or not,” replied Roger, “and there will be no let-down in production if we never return, as long as money and materials are supplied. As for flying globes, if P’an-ku has thousands of them, I will still be glad to go, counting it a small sacrifice to risk my life in this mighty battleship when Ted has braved the same dangers in his tiny, one-man flier.”
“Go then, with my best wishes for a glorious victory and a safe return,” replied the President. “If it were not for the demands of the nation which especially require my presence in this crisis, I should like to go with you.”
“You may tell Her Majesty,” said Roger, addressing Vanible Khan, “that I will attack P’an-ku from above in five days.”
Maza evidently understood his reply, for she smiled and spoke for the first time during the interview.
“In five days, then, Roger Sanders, I will meet you in the imperial palace at Peilong, and may we be in time to save Ted Dustin.”
The disc suddenly became blank, and Roger, after bidding farewell to President Whitmore, hurried away to his electro-plane, which Bevans had ready for the trip to Chicago.
XVIII. TORTURE CHAMBERS
Professor Ederson was small but wiry, and it took him but a moment to squirm from the grasp of the Lunite who had seized him from behind after he dropped a note addressed to General Fu Yen from the bridge of the flying globe. Turning, he beheld Lin Ching, his features contorted with rage. He whipped out a sword, and in his great anger would surely have beheaded the professor then and there, had not Kwan Tsu Khan appeared on the scene and seized his sword arm from behind.
“What’s this, Lin Ching?” he asked. “Has the prisoner attempted to escape, that you threaten his life?”
“Worse than that, my lord Kwan Tsu Khan,” replied Lin Ching. “The miserable worm just dropped something to someone in the crowd and refuses to tell me what it was.”
“I refused nothing,” cut in the professor. “This man came up behind me and, seizing me by the neck, shook me. As I dislike being shaken, I twisted from his grasp.”
“Perhaps then, you will tell me what it was that you dropped to the person in the crowd.” said Kwan Tsu Khan.
“To be sure,” replied the professor. “I dropped a note, written to a friend of mine who lives here.”
“And what did the note say?”
“That,” replied the professor, “is strictly my business.”
“I will make it my business to find out when I have more time,” said Kwan Tsu Khan with his suave smile. “In the meantime, Lin Ching, put the prisoner where he can send no more notes. I go, now, to confer with our allies.”
Lin Ching bowed and grinned. Then he pointed with his sword to the diamond-shaped door behind him.
“Enter, Am-Er-I-Khan,” he commanded, “and follow the passageway until I bid you halt.”
The professor did as he was told, and was eventually stopped before a door near the opposite side of the globe.
Taking a bunch of keys from his belt pouch, Lin Ching unlocked the door, then bade his prisoner enter.
The savant found himself in a small, windowless room, faintly illuminated by a tiny dome light overhead. In the center of the room was a chair, suspended on powerful coil springs. Other springs connected it to the floor, and still others to the walls on four sides.
“Be seated,” ordered Lin Ching.
No sooner had the professor seated himself in the chair than his captor proceeded to strap him down securely. His hands were so fastened to the arms of the chair that he was unable to reach the fastenings of the straps which held his body, legs and feet.
Having completed his work, Lin Ching stood back with arms akimbo and grinned.
“His lordship will make you glad to talk when he returns,” he said. “In the meantime I wish you pleasant and profound meditations.”
With that, he stepped out and closed and locked the door. A moment later the dome light snapped off, and the savant was left, alone and helpless, in total darkness.
How long he hung there in his suspended chair in complete silence the professor had no means of knowing. Suddenly, however, sounds came to him which indicated that projectiles of some sort were striking the outer shell of the craft. Despite his predicament, he smiled to himself in the darkness, for this was, he felt sure, the reply of his friend, General Fu Yen to his hastily written note.