Astounding Stories of Super-Science January 1931 Read online

  _--And the ships, at that touch, fell helplessly downfrom the heights._]

  The Pirate Planet

  PART THREE OF A FOUR-PART NOVEL

  _By Charles W. Diffin_

  Two fighting Yankees--war-torn Earth's sole representatives on Venus--set out to spike the greatest gun of all time.

  WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

  The attack comes without warning; its reason is unknown. But Venus isapproaching the earth, and flashes from the planet are followed byterrific explosions that wreak havoc throughout the world. LieutenantMcGuire and Captain Blake of the U. S. Army Air Service see a greatship fly in from space. Blake attacks it with the 91st Squadron insupport, and Blake alone survives. McGuire and Professor Sykes, anastronomer of Mount Lawson, are captured.

  The bombardment ceases as Venus passes on, and the people of Earthsink into hopeless despondency. Less than a year and a half and theplanet will return, and then--the end! The armament of Earth is futileagainst an enemy who has conquered space. Blake hopes that sciencemight provide a means; might show our fighters how to go out intospace and throttle the attack at its source. But the hope is blasted,until a radio from McGuire supplies a lead.

  McGuire is on Venus. He and Sykes land on that distant planet,captives of a barbarous people. They are taken before Torg, theemperor, and his council, and they learn that these red, man-shapedbeasts intend to conquer the earth. Spawning in millions, they arecrowded, and Earth is to be their colony.

  Imprisoned on a distant island, the two captives are drugged andhypnotized before a machine which throws their thoughts upon a screen.Involuntary traitors, they disclose the secrets of Earth and itshelplessness; then attempt to escape and end their lives rather thanbe forced to further betrayal of their own people.

  McGuire finds a radio station and sends a message back to Earth. Heimplores Blake to find a man named Winslow, for Winslow has invented aspace ship and claims to have reached the moon.

  No time for further sending--McGuire does not even know if his messagehas been received--but they reach the ocean where death offers themrelease. A force of their captors attacking on land, they throwthemselves from a cliff, then swim out to drown beyond reach in theocean. An enemy ship sweeps above them: its gas cloud threatens notthe death they desire but unconsciousness and capture. "God help us,"says Sykes; "we can't even die!"

  They sink, only to be buoyed up by a huge metal shape. A metalprojector raises from the ocean, bears upon the enemy ship and sendsit, a mass of flame and molten metal, into the sea. And friendlyvoices are in McGuire's ears as careful hands lift the two men andcarry them within the craft that has saved them.

  CHAPTER XIII

  Lieutenant McGuire had tried to die. He and Professor Sykes hadwelcomed death with open arms, and death had been thwarted by theirenemies who wanted them alive--wanted to draw their knowledge fromthem as a vampire bat might seek to feast. And, when even death wasdenied them, help had come.

  The enemy ship had gone crashing to destruction where its meltingmetal made hissing clouds of steam as it buried itself in the ocean.And this craft that had saved them--Lieutenant McGuire had never beenon a submarine, but he knew it could be only that that held him nowand carried him somewhere at tremendous speed.

  This was miracle enough! But to see, with eyes which could not bedeceiving him, a vision of men, human, white of face--men likehimself--bending and working over Sykes' unconscious body--that couldnot be immediately grasped.

  Their faces, unlike the bleached-blood horrors he had seen, were aglowwith the flush of health. They were tall, slenderly built, graceful intheir quick motions as they worked to revive the unconscious man. Onestopped, as he passed, to lay a cool hand on McGuire's forehead, andthe eyes that looked down seemed filled with the blessed quality ofkindness.

  They were human--his own kind!--and McGuire was unable to take in atfirst the full wonder of it.

  Did the tall man speak? His lips did not move, yet McGuire heard thewords as in some inner ear.

  "We were awaiting you, friend Mack Guire." The voice was musical,thrilling, and yet the listening man could not have sworn that heheard a voice at all. It was as if a thought were placed within hismind by the one beside him.

  The one who had paused hurried on to aid the others, and McGuire lethis gaze wander.

  * * * * *

  The porthole beside him showed dimly a pale green light; they weresubmerged, and the hissing rush of water told him that they weretravelling fast. There was a door in the farther wall; beyond was aroom of gleaming lights that reflected from myriads of shining leversand dials. A control room. A figure moved as McGuire watched, to presson a lever where a red light was steadily increasing in brightness. Heconsulted strange instruments before him, touched a metal button hereand there, then opened a switch, and the rippling hiss of watersoutside their craft softened to a gentler note.

  The tall one was beside him again.

  "Your friend will live," he told him in that wordless tongue, "and weare almost arrived. The invisible arms of our anchorage have us nowand will draw us safely to rest."

  The kindly tone was music in McGuire's ears, and he smiled in reply."Friends!" he thought. "We are among friends."

  "You are most welcome," the other assured him, "and, yes, you aretruly among friends." But the lieutenant glanced upward in wonder, forhe knew that he had uttered no spoken word.

  Their ship turned and changed its course beneath them, then camefinally to rest with a slight rocking motion as if cushioned onpowerful springs. Sykes was being assisted to his feet as the tall manreached for McGuire's hand and helped him to rise.

  The two men of Earth stood for a long minute while they staredunbelievingly into each other's eyes. Their wonder and amazement foundno words for expression but must have been apparent to the one besidethem.

  "You will understand," he told them. "Do not question this realityeven to yourselves. You are safe!... Come." And he led the way throughan opening doorway to a wet deck outside. Beyond this was a wharf ofcarved stone, and the men followed where steps were inset to allowthem to ascend.

  Again McGuire could not know if he heard a tumult of sound or sensedit in some deeper way. The air about them was aglow with soft light,and it echoed in his ears with music unmistakably real--beautifulmusic!--exhilarating! But the clamor of welcoming voices, like thewords from their tall companion, came soundlessly to him.

  * * * * *

  There were people, throngs of them, waiting. Tall like the others,garbed, like those horrible beings of a past that seemed distant andremote, in loose garments of radiant colors. And everywhere werewelcoming smiles and warm and friendly glances.

  McGuire let his dazed eyes roam around to find the sculptured walls ofa huge room like a tremendous cave. The soft glow of light waseverywhere, and it brought out the beauty of flowing lines anddelicate colors in statuary and bas-relief that adorned the walls.Behind him the water made a dark pool, and from it projected the upperworks of their strange craft.

  His eyes were hungry for these new sights, but he turned with Sykes tofollow their guide through the colorful crowd that parted to let themthrough. They passed under a carved archway and found themselves inanother and greater room.

  But was it a room? McGuire marveled at its tremendous size. His eyestook in the smooth green of a grassy lawn, the flowers and plants, andthen they followed where the hand of Sykes was pointing. Theastronomer gripped McGuire's arm in a numbing clutch; his other handwas raised above.

  "The stars," he said. "The clouds are gone; it is night!"

  And where he pointed was a vault of black velvet. Deep hues of blueseemed blended with it, and far in its depths were the old familiarstar-groups of the skies. "Ah!" the scientist breathed, "thebeautiful, friendly stars!"

  Their guide waited; then, "Come," he urged gently, and led them towarda lake whose unruffled glassy surface mirrored the stars above. Besideit a man was waiting to receive
them.

  McGuire had to force his eyes away from the unreal beauty of opalwalls like the fairy structures they had seen. There was coloreverywhere that blended and fused to make glorious harmony that waspure joy to the eyes.

  * * * * *

  The man who waited was young. He stood erect, his face like that of aGrecian statue, and his robe was blazing with the flash of jewels.Beside him was a girl, tall and slender, and sweetly serious of face.Like the man, her garments were lovely with jeweled iridescence, andnow McGuire saw that the throng within the vast space was similarlyapparelled.

  The tall man raised his hand.

  "Welcome!" he said, and McGuire realized with a start that the wordswere spoken aloud. "You are most welcome, my friends, among the peopleof that world you call Venus."

  Professor Sykes was still weak from his ordeal; he wavered perceptiblywhere he stood, and the man before them them turned to give an order.There were chairs that came like magic; bright robes covered them; andthe men were seated while the man and girl also took seats beside themas those who prepare for an intimate talk with friends.

  Lieutenant McGuire found his voice at last. "Who are you?" he asked inwondering tones. "What does it mean? We were lost--and you saved us.But you--you are not like the others." And he repeated, "What does itmean?"

  "No," said the other with a slight smile, "we truly are not like thoseothers. They are not men such as you and I. They are something lessthan human: animals--vermin!--from whom God, in His wisdom, has seenfit to withhold the virtues that raise men higher than the beasts."

  His face hardened as he spoke and for a moment the eyes were stern,but he smiled again as he continued.

  "And we," he said, "you ask who we are. We are the people of Venus. Iam Djorn, ruler, in name, of all. 'In name' I say, for we rule here bycommon reason; I am only selected to serve. And this is my sister,Althora. The name, with us, means 'radiant light.'" He turned toexchange smiles with the girl at his side. "We think her well named,"he said.

  "The others,"--he waved toward the throng that clustered about--"youwill learn to know in time."

  * * * * *

  Professor Sykes felt the need of introductions.

  "This is Lieutenant--" he began, but the other interrupted with anupraised hand.

  "Mack Guire," he supplied; "and you are Professor Sykes.... Oh, weknow you!" he laughed; "we have been watching you since your arrival;we have been waiting to help you."

  The professor was open-mouthed.

  "Your thoughts," explained the other, "are as a printed page. We havebeen with you by mental contact at all times. We could hear, but, atthat distance, and--pardon me!--with your limited receptivity, wecould not communicate.

  "Do not resent our intrusion," he added; "we listened only for our owngood, and we shall show you how to insulate your thoughts. We do notpry."

  Lieutenant McGuire waved all that aside. "You saved us from them," hesaid; "that's the answer. But--what does it mean? Those others are incontrol; they are attacking our Earth, the world where we lived. Whydo you permit--?"

  Again the other's face was set in sterner lines.

  "Yes," he said, and his voice was full of unspoken regret, "they dorule this world; they _have_ attacked your Earth; they intend muchmore, and I fear they must be successful. Listen. Your wonderment isnatural, and I shall explain.

  "We are the people of Venus. Some centuries ago we ruled this world.Now you find us a handful only, living like moles in this underworld."

  "Underworld?" protested Professor Sykes. He pointed above to thefamiliar constellations. "Where are the clouds?" he asked.

  The girl, Althora, leaned forward now. "It will please my brother,"she said in a soft voice, "that you thought it real. He has hadpleasure in creating that--a replica of the skies we used to knowbefore the coming of the clouds."

  * * * * *

  Professor Sykes was bewildered. "That sky--the stars--they are notreal?" he asked incredulously. "But the grass--the flowers--"

  Her laugh rippled like music. "Oh, they are real," she told him, andher brother gave added explanation.

  "The lights," he said: "we supply the actinic rays that the clouds cutoff above. We have sunlight here, made by our own hands; that is whywe are as we are and not like the red ones with their bleached skins.We had our lights everywhere through the world when we lived above,but those red beasts are ignorant; they do not know how to operatethem; they do not know that they live in darkness even in the light."

  "Then we are below ground?" asked the flyer. "You live here?"

  "It is all we have now. At that time of which I tell, it was the redones who lived out of sight; they were a race of rodents in humanform. They lived in the subterranean caves with which this planet ispierced. We could have exterminated them at any time, but, in ourignorance, we permitted them to live, for we, of Venus--I use yourname for the planet--do not willingly take life."

  "They have no such compunctions!" Professor Sykes' voice was harsh; hewas remembering the sacrifice to the hungry plants.

  A flash as of pain crossed the sensitive features of the girl, and theman beside her seemed speaking to her in soundless words.

  "Your mind-picture was not pleasant," he told the scientist; thencontinued:

  "Remember, we were upon the world, and these others were within it.There came a comet. Oh, our astronomers plotted its course; they toldus we were safe. But at the last some unknown influence diverted it;its gaseous projection swept our world with flame. Only an instant;but when it had passed there was left only death...."

  * * * * *

  He was lost in recollection for a time; the girl beside him reachedover to touch his hand.

  "Those within--the red ones--escaped," he went on. "They poured forthwhen they found that catastrophe had overwhelmed us. And we, thehandful that were left, were forced to take shelter here. We havelived here since, waiting for the day when the Master of Destiniesshall give us freedom and a world in which to live."

  "You speak," suggested the scientist, "as if this had happened to you.Surely you refer to your ancestors; you are the descendants of thosewho were saved."

  "We are the people," said the other. "We lived then; we live now; weshall live for a future of endless years.

  "Have you not searched for the means to control the lifeprinciple--you people of Earth?" he asked. "We have it here. Yousee"--and he waved a hand toward the standing throng--"we are young toyour eyes and the others who greeted you were the same."

  McGuire and the scientist exchanged glances of corroboration.

  "But your age," asked Sykes, "measured in years?"

  "We hardly measure life in years."

  Professor Sykes nodded slowly; his mind found difficulty in acceptingso astounding a fact. "But our language?" he queried. "How is it thatyou can speak our tongue?"

  The tall man smiled and leaned forward to place a hand on a knee ofeach of the men beside him. "Why not," he asked, "when there doubtlessis relationship between us.

  "You called the continent Atlantis. Perhaps its very existence is buta fable now: it has been many centuries since we have had instrumentsto record thought force from Earth, and we have lost touch. But, myfriends, even then we of Venus had conquered space, and it was we whovisited Atlantis to find a race more nearly like ourselves than werethe barbarians who held the other parts of Earth.

  "I was there, but I returned. There were some who stayed and they werelost with the others in the terrible cataclysm that sank a wholecontinent beneath the waters. But some, we have believed, escaped."

  "Why have you not been back?" the flyer asked. "You could have helpedus so much."

  "It was then that our own destruction came upon us. The same comet,perhaps, may have caused a change of stresses in your Earth and sunkthe lost Atlantis. Ah! That was a beautiful land, but we have neverseen it since. We have been--here.

  "
But you will understand, now," he added, "that, with our insight intoyour minds, we have little difficulty in mastering your language."

  This talk of science and incredible history left Lieutenant McGuirecold. His mind could not wander long from its greatest concern.

  "But the earth!" he exclaimed. "What about the earth? This attack!Those devils mean real mischief!"

  "More than you know; more than you can realize, friend Mack Guire!"

  "Why?" demanded the flyer. "Why?"

  "Have your countries not reached out for other countries when land wasneeded?" asked the man, Djorn. "Land--land! Space in which tobreed--that is the reason for the invasion.

  "This world has no such continents as yours. Here the globe is coveredby the oceans; we have perhaps one hundredth of the land areas of yourEarth And the red ones breed like flies. Life means nothing to them;they die like flies, too. But they need more room; they intend to findit on your world."

  * * * * *

  "A strange race," mused Professor Sykes. "They puzzled me. But--'lessthan human,' I think you said. Then how about their ships? How couldthey invent them?"

  "Ours--all ours! They found a world ready and waiting for them.Through the centuries they have learned to master some few of ourinventions. The ships!--the ethereal vibrations! Oh, they have beencleverer than we dreamed possible."

  "Well, how can we stop them?" demanded McGuire. "We must. You have thesubmarines--"

  "One only," the other interrupted. "We saved that, and we brought somemachinery. We have made this place habitable; we have not been idle.But there are limitations."

  "But your ray that you projected--it brought down their ship!"

  "We were protecting you, and we protect ourselves; that is enough.There is One will deliver us in His own good time; we may not go forthand slaughter."

  There was a note of resignation and patience in the voice that filledMcGuire with hopeless forebodings. Plainly this was not an aggressiverace. They had evolved beyond the stage of wanton slaughter, and, evennow, they waited patiently for the day when some greater force shouldcome to their aid.

  The man beside them spoke quickly. "One moment--you will pardonme--someone is calling--" He listened intently to some soundless call,and he sent a silent message in reply.

  "I have instructed them," he said. "Come and you shall see howimpregnable is our position. The red ones have resented ourdestruction of their ship."

  The face of the girl, Althora, was perturbed. "More killings?" sheasked.

  "Only as they force themselves to their own death," her brother toldher. "Be not disturbed."

  * * * * *

  The throng in the vast space drew apart as the figure of their leaderstrode quickly through with the two men following close. There weremany rooms and passages; the men had glimpses of living quarters, ofplaces where machinery made soft whirring sounds; more sights thantheir eyes could see or their minds comprehend. They came at last toan open chamber.

  The men looked up to see above them a tremendous inverted-cone, andthere was the gold of cloudland glowing through an opening at the top.It was the inside of a volcano where they stood, and McGuireremembered the island and its volcanic peak where the ship had swervedaside. He felt that he knew now where they were.

  Above them, a flash of light marked the passage of a ship over thecrater's mouth, and he realized that the ships of the reds were notavoiding the island now. Did it mean an attack? And how could thesenew friends meet it?

  Before them on the level volcanic floor were great machines that camesuddenly to life, and their roar rose to a thunder of violence, while,in the center, a cluster of electric sparks like whirling stars formeda cloud of blue fire. It grew, and its hissing, crackling lengthreached upward to a fine-drawn point that touched the opening above.

  "Follow!" commanded their leader and went rapidly before them where apassage wound and twisted to bring them at last to the light of day.

  The flame of the golden clouds was above them in the midday sky, andbeneath it were scores of ships that swept in formations through theair.

  "Attacking?" asked the lieutenant with ill-concealed excitement.

  "I fear so. They tried to gas us some centuries ago; it may be theyhave forgotten what we taught them then."

  * * * * *

  One squadron came downward and swept with inconceivable speed over aportion of the island that stretched below. The men were a shortdistance up on the mountain's side, and the scene that lay before themwas crystal clear. There were billowing clouds of gas that spread overthe land where the ships had passed. Other ships followed; they wouldblanket the island in gas.

  The man beside them gave a sigh of regret. "They have struck the firstblow," he said. He stood silent with half-closed eyes; then: "I haveordered resistance." And there was genuine sorrow and regret in hiseyes as he looked toward the mountain top.

  McGuire's eyes followed the other's gaze to find nothing at first savethe volcanic peak in hard outline upon the background of gold; thenonly a shimmer as of heat about the lofty cone. The air above himquivered, formed to ripples that spread in great circles where theenemy ships were flashing away.

  Swifter than swift aircraft, with a speed that shattered space, theyreached out and touched--and the ships, at that touch, fell helplesslydown from the heights. They turned awkwardly as they fell or droppedlike huge pointed projectiles. And the waters below took them silentlyand buried in their depths all trace of what an instant sooner hadbeen an argosy of the air.

  The ripples ceased, again the air was clear and untroubled, butbeneath the golden clouds was no single sign of life.

  * * * * *

  The flyer's breathless suspense ended in an explosive gasp. "What awashout!" he exclaimed, and again he thought only of this as a weaponto be used for his own ends. "Can we use that on their fleets?" heasked. "Why, man--they will never conquer the earth; they will nevereven make a start."

  The tall figure of Djorn turned and looked at him. "The lust to kill!"he said sadly. "You still have it--though you are fighting for yourown, which is some excuse.

  "No, this will not destroy their fleets, for their fleets will notcome here to be destroyed. It will be many centuries before ever againthe aircraft of the reds dare venture near."

  "We will build another one and take it where they are--" The voice ofthe fighting man was vibrant with sudden hope.

  "We were two hundred years building and perfecting this," the othertold him. "Can you wait that long?"

  And Lieutenant McGuire, as he followed dejectedly behind the leader,heard nothing of Professor Sykes' eager questions as to how thismiracle was done.

  "Can you wait that long?" this man, Djorn, had asked. And the flyersaw plainly the answer that spelled death and destruction to theworld.

  CHAPTER XIV

  The mountains of Nevada are not noted for their safe and easy landingplaces. But the motor of the plane that Captain Blake was pilotingroared smoothly in the cool air while the man's eyes went searching,searching, for something, and he hardly knew what that something mightbe.

  He went over again, as he had done a score of times, the remarks ofLieutenant McGuire. Mac had laughed that day when he told Blake of hisexperience.

  "I was flying that transport," he had said, "and, boy! when one motorbegan to throw oil I knew I was out of luck. Nothing but rocky peaksand valleys full of trees as thick and as pointed as a porcupine'squills. Flying pretty high to maintain altitude with one motor out, soI just naturally _had_ to find a place to set her down. I found it,too, though it seemed too good to be true off in that wilderness.

  "A fine level spot, all smooth rock, except for a few clumps of grass,and just bumpy enough to make the landing interesting. But, say,Captain! I almost cracked up at that, I was so darn busy staring atsomething else.

  "Off in some trees was a dirigible--Sure; go ahead and laugh; I didn'tbelie
ve it either, and I was looking at it. But there had been a whaleof a storm through there the day before, and it had knocked over sometrees that had been screening the thing, and there it was!

  "Well, I came to in time to pull up her nose and miss a rock or two,and then I started pronto for that valley of trees and the thing thatwas buried among them."

  * * * * *

  Captain Blake recalled the conversation word for word, though he hadtreated it jokingly at the time. McGuire had found the ship and aman--a half-crazed nut, so it seemed--living there all alone. And hewasn't a bit keen about Mac's learning of the ship. But leave it toMac to get the facts--or what the old bird claimed were facts.

  There was the body of a youngster there, a man of about Mac's age. Hehad fallen and been killed the day before, and the old man was halfcrazy with grief. Mac had dug a grave and helped bury the body, andafter that the old fellow's story had come out.

  He had been to the moon, he said. And this was a space ship. Wouldn'ttell how it operated, and shut up like a clam when Mac asked if he hadgone alone. The young chap had gone with him, it seemed, and the manwouldn't talk--just sat and stared out at the yellow mound where theyoungster was buried.

  Mac had told Blake how he argued with the man to prove up on hisclaims and make a fortune for himself. But no--fortunes didn'tinterest him. And there were some this-and-that and be-damned-to-'empeople who would never get _this_ invention--the dirty, thieving rats!

  And Mac, while he laughed, had seemed half to believe it. Said the oldcuss was so sincere, and he had nothing to sell. And--there was theship! It never got there without being flown in, that was a cinch. Andthere wasn't a propellor on it nor a place for one--just open portswhere a blast came out, or so the inventor said.

  Captain Blake swung his ship on another slanting line and continued tocomb the country for such marks as McGuire had seen. And one moment hetold himself he was a fool to be on any such hunt, while the nextthought would remind him that Mac had believed. And Mac had a levelhead, and he had radioed from Venus!

  There was the thing that made anything seem possible. Mac had got amessage through, across that space, and the enemy had ships that coulddo it. Why not this one?

  And always his eyes were searching, searching, for a level rockyexpanse and a tree-filled valley beyond, with something, it might be,shining there, unless the inventor had camouflaged it more carefullynow.

  * * * * *

  It was later on the same day when Captain Blake's blocky figureclimbed over the side of the cockpit. Tired? Yes! But who could thinkof cramped limbs and weary muscles when his plane was resting on abroad, level expanse of rock in the high Sierras and a sharp-cutvalley showed thick with pines beyond. He could see the corner only ofa rough log shack that protruded.

  Blake scrambled over a natural rampart of broken stone and wentswiftly toward the cabin. But he stopped abruptly at the sound of aharsh voice.

  "Stop where you are," the voice ordered, "and stick up your hands!Then turn around and get back as fast as you can to that plane ofyours." There was a glint of sunlight on a rifle barrel in the windowof the cabin.

  Captain Blake stopped, but he did not turn. "Are you Mr. Winslow?" heasked.

  "That's nothing to you! Get out! Quick!"

  Blake was thinking fast. Here was the man, without doubt--and he washostile as an Apache; the man behind that harsh voice meant business.How could he reach him? The inspiration came at once. McGuire was thekey.

  "If you're Winslow," he called in a steady voice, "you don't want meto go away; you want to talk with me. There's a young friend of yoursin a bad jam. You are the only one who can help."

  "I haven't any friends," said the rasping voice: "I don't want any!Get out!"

  "You had one," said the captain, "whether you wanted him or not. Hebelieved in you--like the other young chap who went with you to themoon."

  * * * * *

  There was an audible gasp of dismay from the window beyond, and thebarrel of the rifle made trembling flickerings in the sun.

  "You mean the flyer?" asked the voice, and it seemed to have lost itsharsher note. "The pleasant young fellow?"

  "I mean McGuire, who helped give decent burial to your friend. And nowhe has been carried off--out into space--and you can help him. Ifyou've a spark of decency in you, you will hear what I have to say."

  The rifle vanished within the cabin; a door opened to frame a pictureof a tall man. He was stooped; the years, or solitude, perhaps, hadborne heavily upon him; his face was a mat of gray beard that was acontinuation of the unkempt hair above. The rifle was still in hishand.

  But he motioned to the waiting man, and "Come in!" he commanded. "I'llsoon know if you're telling the truth. God help you if you're not....Come in."

  An hour was needed while the bearded man learned the truth. And Blake,too, picked up some facts. He learned to his great surprise that hewas talking with an educated man, one who had spent a lifetime inscientific pursuits. And now, as the figure before him seemed more thescientist and less the crazed fabricator of wild fancies, the truth ofhis claims seemed not so remote.

  Half demented now, beyond a doubt! A lifetime of disappointments andone invention after another stolen from him by those who knew more oflaw than of science. And now he held fortune in the secret of hisship--a secret which he swore should never be given to the world.

  "Damn the world!" he snarled. "Did the world ever give anything to me?And what would they do with this? They would prostitute it to theirown selfish ends; it would be just one more means to conquer and kill;and the capitalists would have it in their own dirty hands so that newlines of transportation beyond anything they dared dream would betheirs to exploit."

  * * * * *

  Blake, remembering the history of a commercial age, found no readyreply to that. But he told the man of McGuire and the things that hadmade him captive; he related what he, himself, had seen in the darknight on Mount Lawson, and he told of the fragmentary message thatshowed McGuire was still alive.

  "There's only one way to save him," he urged. "If your ship is whatyou claim it is--and I believe you one hundred per cent--it is allthat can save him from what will undoubtedly be a horrible death.Those things were monsters--inhuman!--and they have bombarded theearth. They will come back in less than a year and a half to destroyus."

  Captain Blake would have said he was no debater, but the argument andpersuasion that he used that night would have done credit to aSocrates. His opponent was difficult to convince, and not till thenext day did the inventor show Blake his ship.

  "Small," he said as he led the flyer toward it. "Designed just for themoon trip, and I had meant to go alone. But it served; it took usthere and back again."

  He threw open a door in the side of the metal cylinder. Blake stoodback for only a moment to size up the machine, to observe its smoothduralumin shell and the rounded ends where portholes opened for theexpelling of its driving blast. The door opening showed a thick wallthat gave insulation. Blake followed the inventor to the interior ofthe ship.

  * * * * *

  The man had seen Winslow examining the thick walls. "It's cold outthere, you know," he said, and smiled in recollection, "but thegenerator kept us warm." He pointed to a simple cylindrical castingaft of the ship's center part. It was massive, and braced to theframework of the ship to distribute a thrust that Blake knew must betremendous. Heavy conduits took the blast that it produced and pouredit from ports at bow and stern. There were other outlets, too, aboveand below and on the sides, and electric controls that weremanipulated from a central board.

  "You've got a ship," Blake admitted, "and it's a beauty. I knowconstruction, and you've got it here. But what is the power? How doyou drive it? What throws it out through space?"

  "Aside from one other, you will be the only man ever to know." Thebearded man was quiet now and earnest. T
he wild light had faded fromhis eyes, and he pondered gravely in making the last and finaldecision.

  "Yes, you shall have it. It may be I have been mistaken. I have knownpeople--some few--who were kindly and decent; I have let the othersprejudice me. But there was one who was my companion--and there wasMcGuire, who was kind and who believed. And now you, who will giveyour life for a friend and to save humanity!... You shall have it. Youshall have the ship! But I will not go with you. I want nothing ofglory or fame, and I am too old to fight. My remaining years I chooseto spend out here." He pointed where a window of heavy glass showedthe outer world and a grave on a sloping hill.

  * * * * *

  "But you shall have full instructions. And, for the present, you mayknow that it is a continuous explosion that drives the ship. I havelearned to decompose water into its components and split them intosubatomic form. They reunite to give something other than matter. Itis a liquid--liquid energy, though the term is inaccurate--thatseparates out in two forms, and a fluid ounce of each is the productof thousands of tons of water. The potential energy is all there. Acurrent releases it; the energy components reunite to give matteragain--hydrogen and oxygen gas. Combustion adds to their volumethrough heat.

  "It is like firing a cannon in there,"--he pointed now to the massivegenerator--"a super-cannon of tremendous force and a cannon that firescontinuously. The endless pressure of expansion gives the thrust thatmeans a constant acceleration of motion out there where gravity islost.

  "You will note," he added, "that I said 'constant acceleration.' Itmeans building up to speeds that are enormous."

  Blake nodded in half-understanding.

  "We will want bigger ships," he mused. "They must mount guns and beheavy enough to take the recoil. This is only a sample; we mustdesign, experiment, build them! Can it be done? ... It _must_ bedone!" he concluded and turned to the inventor.

  "We don't know much about those devils of the stars, and they may havemeans of attack beyond anything we can conceive, but there is just oneway to learn: go up there and find out, and take a licking if we haveto. Now, how about taking me up a mile or so in the air?"

  * * * * *

  The other smiled in self-deprecation. "I like a good fighter," hesaid; "I was never one myself. If I had been I would have accomplishedmore. Yes, you shall go up a mile or so in the air--and a thousandmiles beyond." He turned to close the door and seal it fast.

  Beside the instrument board he seated himself, and at his touch thegenerator of the ship came startlingly to life. It grumbled softly atfirst, then the hoarse sound swelled to a thunderous roar, while themetal grating surged up irresistibly beneath the captain's feet. Hisweight was intolerable. He sank helplessly to the floor....

  Blake was white and shaken when he alighted from the ship an hourlater, but his eyes were ablaze with excitement. He stopped to seizethe tall man by the shoulders.

  "I am only a poor devil of a flying man," he said, "but I am speakingfor the whole world right now. You have saved us; you've furnished themeans. It is up to us now. You've given us the right to hope thathumanity can save itself, if humanity will do it. That's my nextjob--to convince them. We have less than a year and a half...."

  * * * * *

  There was one precious week wasted while Captain Blake chafed andwaited for a conference to be arranged at Washington. A spirit ofhopelessness had swept over the world--hopelessness and a mental sloththat killed every hope with the unanswerable argument: "What is theuse? It is the end." But a meeting was arranged at Colonel Boynton'sinsistence, though his superiors scoffed at what he dared suggest.

  Blake appeared before the meeting, and he told them what he knew--toldit to the last detail, while he saw the looks of amusement orcommiseration that passed from man to man.

  There were scientists there who asked him coldly a question or two andshrugged a supercilious shoulder; ranking officers of both army andnavy who openly excoriated Colonel Boynton for bringing them to hearthe wild tale of a half-demented man. It was this that drove Blake toa cold frenzy.

  The weeks of hopeless despair had worn his nerves to the breakingpoint, and now, with so much to be done, and so little time in whichto do it, all requirements of official etiquette were swept aside ashe leaped to his feet to face the unbelieving men.

  "Damn it!" he shouted, "will you sit here now and quibble over whatyou think in your wisdom is possible or not. Get outside thosedoors--there's an open park beyond--and I'll knock your technicalitiesall to hell!"

  The door slammed behind him before the words could be spoken to placehim under arrest, and he tore across a velvet lawn to leap into ataxi.

  There was a rising storm of indignant protest within the room that hehad left. There were admirals, purple of face, who made heated remarksabout the lack of discipline in the army, and generals who turnedaccusingly where the big figure of Colonel Boynton was still seated.

  It was the Secretary of War who stilled the tumult and claimed theprivilege of administering the rebuke which was so plainly needed."Colonel Boynton," he said, and there was no effort to soften thecutting edge of sarcasm in his voice, "it was at your request andsuggestion that this outrageous meeting was held. Have you any morerequests or suggestions?"

  The colonel rose slowly to his feet.

  "Yes, Mr. Secretary," he said coldly, "I have. I know Captain Blake.He seldom makes promises; when he does he makes good. My suggestion isthat you do what the gentleman said--step outside and see yourtechnicalities knocked to hell." He moved unhurriedly toward the door.

  * * * * *

  It was a half-hour's wait, and one or two of the more openly skepticalhad left when the first roar came faintly from above. Colonel Boyntonled the others to the open ground before the building. "I have alwaysfound Blake a man of his word," he said quietly, and pointed upwardwhere a tiny speck was falling from a cloud-flecked sky.

  Captain Blake had had little training in the operation of the ship,but he had flown it across the land and had concealed it where fellowofficers were sworn to secrecy. And he felt that he knew how to handlethe controls.

  But the drop from those terrible heights was a fearful thing, and itended only a hundred feet above the heads of the cowering, shoutinghumans who crouched under the thunderous blast, where a great shellchecked its vertical flight and rebounded to the skies.

  Again and again the gleaming cylinder drove at them like a projectilefrom the mortars of the gods, and it roared and thundered through theair or turned to vanish with incredible speed straight up into theheights, to return and fall again ... until finally it hung motionlessa foot above the grass from which the uniformed figures had fled. OnlyColonel Boynton was there to greet the flyer as he laid his strangecraft gently down.

  "Nice little show, Captain," he said, while his broad face broke intothe widest of grins. "A damn nice little show! But take that look offof your face. They'll listen to you now; they'll eat right out of yourhand."

  CHAPTER XV

  If Lieutenant McGuire could have erased from his mind the thought ofthe threat that hung over the earth he would have found nothing butintensest pleasure in the experiences that were his.

  But night after night they had heard the reverberating echoes of thegiant gun speeding its messenger of death toward the earth, and he sawas plainly as if he were there the terrible destruction that must comewhere the missiles struck. Gas, of course; that seemed the chief andonly weapon of these monsters, and Djorn, the elected leader of theVenus folk, confirmed him in this surmise.

  "We had many gases," he told McGuire, "but we used them for good ends.You people of Earth--or these invaders, if they conquer Earth--mustsome day engage in a war more terrible than wars between men. Theinsects are your greatest foe. With a developing civilization goes themultiplication of insect and bacterial life. We used the gases forthat war, and we made this world a heaven." He sighed regretfully forhis lost w
orld.

  "These red ones found them, and our factories for making them. Butthey have no gift for working out or mastering the other means we hadfor our defense--the electronic projectors, the creation of tremendousmagnetic fields: you saw one when we destroyed the attacking ships.Our scientists had gone far--"

  "I wish to Heaven you had some of them to use now," said thelieutenant savagely, and the girl, Althora, standing near, smiled insympathy for the flyer's distress. But her brother, Djorn, onlymurmured: "The lust to kill: that is something to be overcome."

  The fatalistic resignation of these folk was disturbing to a man ofaction like McGuire. His eyes narrowed, and his lips were set for anabrupt retort when Althora intervened.

  "Come," she said, and took the flyer's hand. "It is time for food."

  * * * * *

  She took him to the living quarters occupied by her brother andherself, where opal walls and jewelled inlays were made lovely by thesoft light that flooded the rooms.

  "Just one tablet," she said, and brought him a thin white disc, "thenplenty of water. You must take this compressed food often and in smallquantities till your system is accustomed."

  "You make this?" he asked.

  "But certainly. Our chemists are learned men. We should lack for food,otherwise, here in our underground home."

  He let the tablet dissolve in his mouth. Althora leaned forward totouch his hand gently.

  "I am sorry," she said, "that you and Djorn fail to understand oneanother. He is good--so good! But you--you, too, are good, and youfear for the safety of your own people."

  "They will be killed to the last woman and child," he replied, "orthey will be captured, which will be worse."

  "I understand," she told him, and pressed his hand; "and if I canhelp, Lieutenant Mack Guire, I shall be so glad."

  He smiled at her stilted pronunciation of his name. He had had thegirl for an almost constant companion since his arrival; the sexes, hefound, were on a level of mutual freedom, and the girl's companionshipwas offered and her friendship expressed as openly as might have beenthat of a youth. Of Sykes he saw little; Professor Sykes was deep inastronomical discussions with the scientists of this world.

  But she was charming, this girl of a strange race so like his own. Askin from the velvet heart of a rose and eyes that looked deep intohis and into his mind when he permitted; eyes, too, that could crinkleto ready laughter or grow misty when she sang those weird melodies ofsuch thrilling sweetness.

  Only for the remembrance of Earth and the horrible feeling of impotentfury, Lieutenant McGuire would have found much to occupy his thoughtsin this loveliest of companions.

  * * * * *

  He laughed now at the sounding of his name, and the girl laughed withhim.

  "But it _is_ your name, is it not?" she asked.

  "Lieutenant Thomas McGuire," he repeated, "and those who like me callme 'Mac.'"

  "Mac," she repeated. "But that is so short and hard sounding. And whatdo those who love you say?"

  The flyer grinned cheerfully. "There aren't many who could qualify inthat respect, but if there were they would call me Tommy."

  "That is better," said Althora with engaging directness; "that is muchbetter--Tommy." Then she sprang to her feet and hurried him out wheresome further wonders must be seen and exclaimed over without delay.But Lieutenant McGuire saw the pink flush that crept into her face,and his own heart responded to the telltale betrayal of her feelingfor him. For never in his young and eventful life had the man foundanyone who seemed so entirely one with himself as did this lovely girlfrom a distant star.

  He followed where she went dancing on her way, but not for long couldhis mind be led away from the menace he could not forget. And on thisday, as on many days to come, he struggled and racked his brain tofind some way in which he could thwart the enemy and avert or delaytheir stroke.

  * * * * *

  It was another day, and they were some months on their long journeyaway from the earth when an inspiration came. Althora had offered tohelp, and he knew well how gladly she would aid him; the feelingbetween them had flowered into open, if unspoken love. Not that hewould subject her to any danger--he himself would take all of thatwhen it came--but meanwhile--

  "Althora," he asked her, "can you project your mind into that of oneof the reds?"

  "I could, easily," she replied, "but it would not be pleasant. Theirminds are horrible; they reek of evil things." She shuddered at thethought, but the man persisted.

  "But if you could help, would you be willing? I can do so little; Ican never stop them; but I may save my people from some suffering atleast. Here is my idea:

  "Djorn tells me that I had it figured right: they plan an invasion ofthe earth when next the two planets approach. He has told me of theirarmies and their fleets of ships that will set off into space. I can'tprevent it; I am helpless! But if I knew what their leader wasthinking--"

  "Torg!" she exclaimed. "You want to know the mind of that beast ofbeasts!"

  "Yes," said the man. "It might be of value. Particularly if I couldknow something of their great gun--where it is and what it is--well, Imight do something about that."

  The girl averted her eyes from the savage determination on his face."No--no!" she exclaimed; "I could not. Not Torg!"

  McGuire's own face fell at the realization of the enormity of thisfavor he had demanded. "That's all right," he said and held her softhand in his; "just forget it. I shouldn't have asked."

  But she whispered as she turned to walk away: "I must think, I mustthink. You ask much of me, Tommy; but oh, Tommy, I would do much foryou!" She was sobbing softly as she ran swiftly away.

  And the man in khaki--this flyer of a distant air-service--strodeblindly off to rage and fume at his helplessness and his inability tostrike one blow at those beings who lived in that world above.

  * * * * *

  There were countless rooms and passages where the work of the worldbelow went on. There were men and women whose artistic ability foundoutlet in carvings and sculpture, chemists and others whose work wasthe making of foods and endless experimentation, some thousand of menand women in the strength of their endless youth, who worked for thelove of the doing and lived contentedly and happily while they waitedfor the day of their liberation. But of fighters there were none, andfor this Lieutenant McGuire grieved wholeheartedly.

  He was striding swiftly along where a corridor ended in blacknessahead. There was a gleaming machine on the floor beside him when ahand clutched at his arm and a warning voice exclaimed: "No further,Lieutenant McGuire; you must not go!"

  "Why?" questioned the lieutenant. "I've got to walk--do something tokeep from this damnable futile thinking."

  "But not there," said the other; "it is a place of death. Ten pacesmore and you would have vanished in a flicker of flame. Theprojector"--he touched the mechanism beside them--"is always on. Ourcaves extend in an endless succession; they join with the labyrinthwhere the red ones used to live. They could attack us but for this.Nothing can live in its invisible ray; they are placed at all suchentrances."

  "Yet Djorn," McGuire told himself slowly, "said they had no weapons.He knows nothing of war. But, great heavens! what wouldn't I give fora regiment of scrappers--good husky boys with their faces tanned and aspark in their eyes and their gas masks on their chests. With aregiment, and equipment like this--"

  And again he realized the futility of armament with none to serve anddirect it.

  * * * * *

  It was a month or more before Althora consented to the tests. Djornadvised against it and made his protest emphatic, but here, as in allthings, Althora was a free agent. It was her right to do as she sawfit, and there was none to prevent in this small world whereindividual liberty was unquestioned.

  And it was still longer before she could get anything of importance.The experiments were rackin
g to her nerves, and McGuire, seeing theterrible strain upon her, begged her to stop. But Althora had gainedthe vision that was always before her loved one's eyes--a world ofdeath and disaster--and he, here where the bolt would be launched, andpowerless to prevent. She could not be dissuaded now.

  It was a proud day for Althora when she sent for McGuire, and he foundher lying at rest, eyes closed in her young face that was lined andtortured with the mental horror she was contacting. She silenced hisprotests with a word.

  "The gun," she whispered; "they are talking about the gun ... and thebombardment ... planning...."

  More silent concentration. Then:

  "The island of Bergo," she said, "--remember that! The gun is there ...a great bore in the earth ... solid rock ... but the casing oftitanite must be reinforced ... and bands shrunk about the muzzle thatprojects ... heavy bands ... it shows signs of distortion--theheat!..."

  She was listening to the thoughts, and selecting those that bore upongun.

  "... Only fifty days ... the bombardment must begin ... Tahnor hasprovided a hundred shells; two thousand tals of the green gas-powderin each one ... the explosive charges ready ... yes--yes!..."

  "Oh!" she exclaimed and opened her troubled eyes. "The beast is socomplacent, so sure! And the bombardment will begin in fifty days!Will it really cause them anguish on your Earth, Tommy?"

  "Just plain hell; that's all!"

  McGuire's voice was low; his mind was reaching out to find and rejectone plan after another. The gun!... He must disable it; he could dothat much at least. For himself--well, what of it?--he would die, ofcourse.

  The guard he had been taught to place about his own thoughts must haverelaxed, for Althora cried out in distress.

  "No--no!" she protested; "you shall not! I have tried to help you,Tommy dear--say that I have helped you!--but, oh, my beloved, do notgo. Do not risk your life to silence this one weapon. They would stillhave their ships. Remember what Djorn has told of their mighty fleets,their thousands of fighting men. You cannot stop them; you can hardlyhinder them. And you would throw away your life! Oh, please do notgo!"

  McGuire was seated beside her. His face was hidden in one hand whilethe other was held tight between the white palms of Althora's tensehands. He said nothing, and he shielded his eyes and locked his mindagainst her thought force.

  "Tommy," said Althora, and now her voice was all love and softness,"Tommy, my dear one! You will not go, for what can you do? And if youstay--oh, my dear!--you can have what you will--the secret of lifeshall be yours--to live forever in perpetual youth. You may have that.And me, Tommy.... Would you throw your life away in a hopelessattempt, when life might hold so much? Am I offering so little,Tommy?"

  And still the silence and the hand that kept the eyes from meetinghers; then a long-drawn breath and a slim figure in khaki that stoodunconsciously erect to look, not at the girl, but out beyond the solidwalls, through millions of miles of space, to the helpless speckcalled Earth.

  "You offer me heaven, my dear," he spoke softly. "But sometimes"--andhis lips twisted into a ghost of a smile--"sometimes, to earn ourheaven, we have to fight like hell. And, if we fail to make the fight,what heaven worth having is left?

  "And the people," he said softly; "the homes in the cities and townsand villages. My dear, that's part of loving a soldier: you can neverown him altogether; his allegiance is divided. And if I failed my ownfolk what right would I have to you?"

  * * * * *

  He dared to look at the girl who lay before him. That other vision wasgone but he had seen a clear course charted, and now, with his mind atrest, he could smile happily at the girl who was looking up at himthrough her tears.

  She rose slowly to her feet and stood before him to lay firm handsupon his shoulders. She was almost as tall as he, and her eyes, thathad shaken off their tears but for a dewy fringe, looked deep andstraight into his.

  "We have thought," she said slowly, "we people of this world, that wewere superior to you and yours; we have accepted you as someone ashade below our plane of advancement. Yes, we have dared to believethat. But I know better. We have gone far, Tommy, we people of thisstar; we have lived long. Yet I am wondering if we have lost somevirtues that are the heritage of a sterner race.

  "But I am learning, Tommy; I am so thankful that I can learn and thatI have had you to teach me. We will go together, you and I. We willfight our fight, and, the Great One willing, we will earn our heavenor find it elsewhere--together."

  She leaned forward to kiss the tall man squarely upon the lips withher own soft rose-petal lips that clung and clung ... and the reply ofLieutenant McGuire, while it was entirely wordless, seemed eminentlysatisfactory.

  * * * * *

  Althora, the beautiful daughter of Venus, had the charm and allure ofher planet's fabled namesake. But she thought like a man and sheplanned like a man. And there was no dissuading her from her course.She was to fight beside McGuire--that was her intention--and beyondthat there was no value in argument. McGuire was forced to accept theinsistent aid, and he needed help.

  Sykes dropped his delving into astronomical lore and answered to thecall, but there was no other assistance. Only the three, McGuire,Althora and Sykes. There were some who would agree to pilot thesubmarine that was being outfitted, but they would have no part in theventure beyond transporting the participants.

  More than once McGuire paused to curse silently at the complaisance ofthis people. What could he not do if they would help. Ten companies oftrained men, armed with their deadly electronic projectors thatdisintegrated any living thing they reached--and he would clutch athis tousled hair and realize that they were only three, and go grimlyback to work.

  "I don't know what we can do till we get there," he told Sykes. "Herewe are, and there is the gun: that is all we know, except that thething must be tremendous and our only hope is that there is somefiring mechanism that we can destroy. The gun itself is a greatdrilling in the solid rock, lined with one of their steel alloys, andwith a big barrel extending up into the air: Althora has learned that.

  "They went deep into the rock and set the firing chamber there; it'sheavy enough to stand the stress. They use a gas-powder, as Althoracalls it, for the charge, and the same stuff but deadlier is in theshell. But they must have underground workings for loading and firing.Is there a chance for us to get in there, I wonder! There's the bigbarrel that projects. We might ... but no!--that's too big for us totackle, I'm afraid."

  "How about that electronic projector on the submarine?" Sykessuggested. "Remember how it melted out the heart of that big ship? Wecould do a lot with that."

  "Not a chance! Djorn and the others have strictly forbidden the men toturn it on the enemy since they have given no offense.

  "No offense!" he repeated, and added a few explosive remarks.

  "No, it looks like a case of get there and do what dirty work we canto their mechanism before they pot us--and that's that!"

  * * * * *

  But Sykes was directing his thoughts along another path.

  "I wonder ..." he mused; "it might be done: they have laboratories."

  "What are you talking about? For the love of heaven, man, if you'regot an idea, let's have it. I'm desperate."

  "Nitrators!" said the scientist. "I have been getting on pretty goodterms with the scientific crowd here, and I've seen some mighty prettymanufacturing laboratories. And they have equipment that was nevermeant for the manufacture of nitro-explosives, but, with a fewmodifications--yes, I think it could be done."

  "You mean nitro-glycerine? TNT?"

  "Something like that. Depends upon what materials we can get to startwith."

  The lieutenant was pounding his companion upon the back and shoutinghis joy at this faintest echo of encouragement.

  "We'll plant it alongside the gun--No, we'll get into their workingunderground. We'll blow their equipment into scrap-iron, and perhapswe can eve
n damage the gun itself!" He was almost beside himself withexcitement at thought of a weapon being placed in his straininghelpless hands.

  * * * * *

  It was the earth-shaking thunder of the big gun that hastened theirfinal preparations and made McGuire tremble with suppressed excitementwhere he helped Sykes to draw off a syrupy liquid into heavy crystalflasks.

  There were many of these, and the two men would allow no others totouch them, but stored them themselves and nested each one in a softbed within the submarine. Then one last repetition of theirhalf-formed plans to Djorn and his followers and a rush toward thewharf where the submarine was waiting.

  Althora was waiting, too, and McGuire wasted minutes in a petitionthat he knew was futile.

  "Wait here, Althora," he begged. "I will come back; this is no venturefor you to undertake. I can take my chances with them, but you--! Itis no place for you," he concluded lamely.

  "There is no other place for me," she said; "only where you are." Andshe led the way while the others followed into the lighted controlroom of the big under-water craft.

  McGuire's eyes were misty with a blurring of tears that were partlyfrom excitement, but more from a feeling of helpless remonstrance thatwas mingled with pure pride. And his lips were set in a straight line.

  The magnetic pull that held them to their anchorage was reversed; theship beneath them was slipping smoothly beneath the surface and out tosea, guided through its tortuous windings of water-worn caves androcky chambers under the sea by the invisible electric cords that drewit where they would.

  And ahead on some mysterious island was a gun, a thing of size andpower beyond anything of Earth. He was going to spike that gun if itwas the last act of his life; and Althora was going with him. He drewher slim body to him, while his eyes stared blindly, hopefully, towardwhat the future held.

  CHAPTER XVI

  Throughout the night they drove hour after hour at terrific speed. Theship was running submerged, for McGuire was taking no slightest chanceof their being observed from the air. He and the others slept attimes, for the crew that handled the craft very evidently knew theexact course, and there were mechanical devices that insured theirsafety. A ray was projected continuously ahead of them; it wouldreflect back and give on an indicator instant warning of any derelictor obstruction. Another row of quivering needles gave by the samemethod the soundings from far ahead.

  But the uncertainty of what their tomorrow might hold and the worryand dread lest he find himself unable to damage the big gun made realrest impossible for McGuire.

  But he was happy and buoyant with hope when, at last, the green lightfrom the ports showed that the sun was shining up above, and theslackening drive of the submarine's powerful motors told that theirobjective was in sight.

  They lay quietly at last while a periscope of super-sensitiveness wasthrust cautiously above the water. It brought in a panoramic view ofthe shoreline ahead, amplified it and projected the picture inclear-cut detail upon a screen. If Lieutenant McGuire had stood on thewet deck above and looked directly at the island the sight could havebeen no clearer. The colors of torn and blasted tree-growths showed inall their pale shades, and there was stereoscopic depth to the picturethat gave no misleading illusions as to distance.

  The shore was there with the white spray of breakers on a rocky shoal,and a beach beyond. And beyond that, in hard outline against a goldensky, was a gigantic tube that stood vertically in air to reach beyondthe upper limits of the periscope's vision.

  * * * * *

  McGuire tingled at the sight. To be within reach of this weapon thathad sent those blasting, devastating missiles upon the earth! He pacedback and forth in the small room to stop and stare again, and resumehis pacing that helped to while away the hours they must wait. Forthere were man-shapes swarming over the land, and the dull, blood-redof their loose uniforms marked them as members of the fighting forcespawned by this prolific breed.

  "Not a chance until they're out of the picture," said the impatientman; "they would snow us under. It's just as I thought: we must waituntil the gun is ready to fire; then they will beat it. They won'twant to be around when that big boy cuts loose."

  "And then?" asked Althora.

  "Then Sykes and I will take our collection of gallon flasks ashore,and I sure hope we don't stumble." He grinned cheerfully at the girl.

  "That reinforced concrete dome seems to be where they get down intothe ground; it is close to the base of the gun. We will go there--blowit open if we have to--but manage in some way to get down below. Thena time-fuse on the charge, and the boat will take me off, and we willleave as fast as these motors can drive us."

  He omitted to mention any possible danger to Sykes and himself in thehandling of their own explosive, and he added casually, "You will stayhere and see that there is no slip-up on the getaway."

  He had to translate the last remark into language the girl couldunderstand. But Althora shook her head.

  "You do try so hard to get rid of me, Tommy," the laughed, "but it isno use. I am going with you--do not argue--and I will help you withthe attack. Three will work faster than two--and I am going."

  McGuire was silent, then nodded his assent. He was learning, thisEarth-man, what individual freedom really meant.

  * * * * *

  Only the western sky showed golden masses on the shining screen whenMcGuire spoke softly to the captain:

  "Your men will put us ashore; you may ask them to stand by now." Andto Professor Sykes, "Better get that 'soup' of yours ready to load."

  The red-clad figures were growing dim on the screen, and the blotchesof colors that showed where they were grouped were few. Some therewere who left such groups to flee precipitately toward a waitingairship.

  This was something the lieutenant had not foreseen. He had expectedthat the force that served the gun would have some shock-proofshelter; he had not anticipated a fighting ship to take them away.

  "That's good," he exulted; "that is a lucky break. If they just getout of sight we will have the place to ourselves."

  There were no red patches on the screen now, and the picture thrownbefore them showed the big ship, its markings of red and whitedistinct even in the shadow-light of late afternoon, rising slowlyinto the air. It gathered speed marvelously and vanished to a speckbeyond the land.

  "We're getting the breaks," said McGuire crisply. "All right--let'sgo!"

  The submarine rose smoothly, and the sealed doors in thesuperstructure were opened while yet there was water to come tricklingin. Men came with a roll of cloth that spread open to the shape of asmall boat, while a metal frame expanded within it to hold it taut.

  McGuire gasped with dismay as a seaman launched it and leaped heavilyinto the frail shell to attach a motor to one end.

  "Metal!" the captain reassured him; "woven metal, and water-tight! Youcould not pierce it with anything less than a projector."

  * * * * *

  Sykes was ready with one of the crystal flasks as the boat was broughtalongside, and McGuire followed with another. They took ten of theharmless-looking containers, and both men held their breaths as theboat grounded roughly on the boulder-strewn shore.

  They lifted them out and bedded them in the sand, then returned to thesubmarine. This time Althora, too, stepped into the boat. They loadedin the balance of the containers; the motor purred. Another landing,and they stood at last on the island, where a mammoth tube toweredinto the sky and the means for its destruction was at their feet.

  But there was little time; already the light was dimming, and the timefor the firing of the big weapon was drawing near. The men worked likemad to carry the flasks to the base of the gun, where a dome ofconcrete marked the entrance to the rooms below.

  Each man held a flask of the deadly fluid when Althora led the waywhere stairs went deep down into the earth under the domed roof. Thispart of the work had been
foreseen, and the girl held a slendercylinder that threw a beam of light, intensely bright.

  They found a surprising simplicity in the arrangements underground.Two rooms only had been carved from the solid rock, and one of theseended in a wall of gray metal that could be only the great base of thegun. But nowhere was a complication of mechanism that might be damagedor destroyed, nor any wiring or firing device.

  A round door showed sharp edges in the gray metal, but only thestrength of many men could have removed its huge bolts, and these twoknew there must be other doors to seal in the mighty charge.

  "Not a wire!" the scientist exclaimed. "How do they fire it?" Theanswer came to him with the question.

  "Radio, of course; and the receiving set is in the charge itself; thebarrel of the gun is its own antenna. They must fire it from adistance--back on the island where we were, perhaps. It would need tobe accurately timed."

  "Come on!" shouted McGuire, and raised the flask of explosive to hisshoulder.

  * * * * *

  Each one knew the need for haste; each waited every moment for theterrible blast of gun-fire that would jar their bodies to a lifelesspulp or, by detonating their own explosive, destroy them utterly. Butthey carried the flasks again to the top, and the three of them workedbreathlessly to place their whole supply where McGuire directed.

  The massive barrel of the gun was beside them; it was held intremendous castings of metal that bolted to anchorage in the ground.One great brace had an overhanging flange; the explosive was placedbeneath it.

  Professor Sykes had come prepared. He attached a detonator to one ofthe flasks, and while the other two were placing the explosive inposition he fastened two wires to the apparatus with steady buthurrying fingers; then at full speed he ran with the spool from whichthe wires unwound.

  McGuire and Althora were behind him, running for the questionablesafety of the sand-hills. Sykes stopped in the shelter of a tinyvalley where winds had heaped the sand.

  "Down!" he shouted. "Get down--behind that sand dune, there!"

  He dropped beside them, the bared ends of the wires in his hands.There was a battery, too, a case no larger than his hands. ProfessorSykes, it appeared, had gained some few concessions from his friends,who had learned to respect him in the field of science.

  One breathless moment he waited; then--

  "Now!" he whispered, and touched the battery's terminals with the barewires.

  * * * * *

  To McGuire it seemed, in that instant of shattering chaos, that thegreat gun itself must have fired. He had known the jar of heavyartillery at close range; he had had experience with explosives. Hehad even been near when a government arsenal had thrown thecountryside into a hell of jarring, ear-splitting pandemonium. But theconcussion that shook the earth under him now was like nothing he hadknown.

  The hill of sand that sheltered them vanished to sweep in a sheetabove their heads. And the air struck down with terrific weight, thenleft them in an airless void that seemed to make their bodies swelland explode. It rushed back in a whirling gale to sweep showers ofsand and pebbles over the helpless forms of the three who lay batteredand stunned.

  An instant that was like an age; then the scientist pointed with aweak and trembling hand where a towering spire of metallic gray leanedslowly in the air. So slowly it moved, to the eyes of the watchers--agreat arc of gathering force and speed that shattered the ground whereit struck.

  "The gun!" was all that the still-dazed lieutenant could say."The--the gun!" And he fell to shivering uncontrollably, while tearsof pure happiness streamed down his face.

  The mammoth siege gun--the only weapon for bombardment of the helplessEarth--was a mass of useless metal, a futile thing that lay twistedand battered on the sands of the sea.

  * * * * *

  The submarine now showed at a distance; it had withdrawn, byprearrangement, to the shelter of the deeper water. McGuire lookedcarefully at the watch on his wrist, and listened to make certain thatthe explosion had not stopped it. Sykes had told him the length of theVenusian day--twenty hours and nineteen minutes of Earth time, and hehad made his calculations from the day of the Venusians. And, morningand night, McGuire had set his watch back and had learned to make arough approximation of the time of that world.

  The watch now said five-thirteen, and the sun was almost gone; a lineof gold in the western sky; and McGuire knew that it was a matter onlyof minutes till the blast of the big gun would rock the island. Oneheavy section of the great barrel was resting upon the shattered base,and McGuire realized that this blocking of the monster's throat mustmean it would tear itself and the island around it to fragments whenit fired. He ran toward the beach and waved his arms wildly in air tourge on the speeding craft that showed dim and vague across theheaving sea.

  It drove swiftly toward them and stopped for the launching of thelittle boat. There was a delay, and McGuire stood quivering withimpatience where the others, too, watched the huddle of figures on thesubmarine's deck.

  It was Althora who first sensed their danger. Her voice was shrillwith terror as she seized McGuire's arm and pointed landward.

  "Tommy--Tommy!" she said. "They are coming! I saw them!"

  * * * * *

  A swarming of red figures over the nearby dunes gave quickconfirmation of her words. McGuire looked about him for aweapon--anything to add efficiency to his bare hands--and the swarmwas upon them as he looked.

  He leaped quickly between Althora and the nearest figures thatstretched out grasping hands, and a red face went white under thesmashing impact of the flyer's fist.

  They poured over the sand-hills now---scores of leapingman-shapes--and McGuire knew in an instant of self-accusation thatthere had been a shelter after all, where a portion of the enemy forcehad stayed. The explosion had brought them, and now--

  He struck in a raging frenzy at the grotesque things that came racingupon them. He knew Sykes was fighting too. He tore wildly at the leanarms that bound him and kept him from those a step or two away whowere throwing the figure of a girl across the shoulders of one oftheir men, while her eyes turned hopelessly toward McGuire.

  They threw the two men upon the sand and crowded to kneel on theprostrate bodies and strike and tear with their long hands, then tiedthem at ankles and wrists with metal cords, and raised them helplessand bound in the air.

  One of the red creatures pointed a long arm toward the demolished gunand shrieked something in a terror-filled tone. The others, at thesound, raced off through the sand, while those with the burden of thethree captives followed as best they could.

  "The gun!" said Professor Sykes in a thick voice: the words werejolted out of him as the two who carried him staggered and ran. "Theyknow--that it--hasn't--gone off--"

  * * * * *

  The straggling troop that strung out across the dim-lit dunes wasapproaching another domed shelter of heavy concrete. They crowdedinside, and the bodies of the three were thrown roughly to the floor,while the red creatures made desperate haste to close the heavy door.Then down they went into the deeper safety of a subterranean room,where the massive walls about them quivered to a nerve-deadening jar.It shook those standing to the floor, and the silence that followedwas changed to a bedlam by the inhuman shrieking of the creatures whowere gloating over their safety and the capture they had achieved.They leaped and capered in a maniacal outburst and ceased only at theshrill order of one who was in command.

  At his direction the three were carried out of doors and thrown uponthe ground. McGuire turned his head to see the face of Althora. Therewas blood trickling from a cut on her temple, and her eyes were dazedand blurred, but she managed a trembling smile for the anxious eyes ofthe man who could only struggle hopelessly against the thin wires thatheld him.

  Althora hurt! Bound with those cutting metal cords! Althora--in suchbeastly hands! He groaned aloud at the th
ought.

  "You should never have come; I should never have let you. I have gotyou into this!" He groaned again in an agony of self-reproach, thenlay silent and waited for what must come. And the answer to hisspeculations came from the night above, where the lights of a shipmarked the approach of an enemy craft.

  * * * * *

  The ships of the red race could travel fast, as McGuire knew, but theair monster whose shining, pointed beak hung above them where they layhelpless in the torturing bonds of fine wire, was to give him a newconception of speed.

  It shot to the five thousand-foot level, when the captives were safeaboard, and the dark air shrieked like a tortured animal where thesteel shell tore it to tatters. And the radio, in an adjoining room,never ceased in its sputtering, changing song.

  The destruction of the Earth-bombarding gun! The capture of the twoEarth-men who had dared to fight back! And a captive woman of thedreaded race of true Venusians! There was excitement and news enoughfor one world. And the discordant singing of the radio was sounding inthe ears of the leaders of that world.

  They were waiting on the platform in the great hall where Sykes andMcGuire had stood, and their basilisk eyes glared unwinkingly down atthe three who were thrown at their feet.

  The leader of them all, Torg himself, arose from his ornate throne andstrode forward for a closer view of the trophies his huntsmen hadbrought in. A whistled word from him and the wires that had boundAlthora's slim ankles were cut, while a red-robed warrior dragged herroughly to her feet to stand trembling and swaying as the blood shotcruelly through her cramped limbs.

  Torg's eyes to McGuire were those of a devil feasting on human flesh,as he stared appraisingly and gloatingly at the girl who tried vainlyto return the look without flinching. He spoke for a moment in a harshtone, and the seated councilors echoed his weird notes approvingly.

  "What does he say?" McGuire implored, though he knew there could benothing of good in that abominable voice. "What does he say, Althora?"

  * * * * *

  The face that turned slowly to him was drained of the last vestige ofcolor. "I--do not--know," she said in a whisper scarcely audible; "buthe thinks--terrible things!"

  She seemed speaking of some nightmare vision as she added haltingly,"There is a fleet of many ships, and Torg is in command. He hasthousands of men, and he goes forth to conquer your Earth. He goesthere to rule." She had to struggle to bring the words to her lipsnow. "And--he takes me--with--him!"

  "No--no!" the flyer protested, and he struggled insanely to free hishands from the wires that cut the deeper into his flesh. The voice ofAlthora, clear and strong now, brought him back.

  "I shall never go, Tommy; never! The gift of eternal life is mine, butit is mine to keep only if I will. But, for you and your friend--" Shetried to raise her hands to her trembling lips.

  "Yes," said Lieutenant McGuire quietly, "for us--?"

  But there were some things the soft lips of Althora refused to say.Again she tried vainly to raise her hands, then turned her white,stricken face that a loved one might not see the tears that weremingling with the blood-stains on her cheeks, nor read in her eyes thehorror they beheld.

  But she found one crumb of comfort for the two doomed men.

  "You will live till the sailing of the ships, Tommy," she choked, "andthen--we will go together, Tommy--you and I."

  Her head was bowed and her shoulders shaking, but she raised her headproudly erect as she was seized by a guard whose blood-red handsforced her from the room.

  And the dry, straining eyes of Lieutenant McGuire, that watched hergoing, saw the passing to an unknown fate of all he held dear, and theend of his unspoken dreams.

  He scarcely felt the grip of the hands that seized him, nor knew whenhe and Sykes were carried from the room where Torg, the Emperor, heldhis savage court. The stone walls of the room where they were throwncould not hold his eyes; they looked through and beyond to see onlythe white and piteous face of a girl whose lips were whispering: "Wewill go together, Tommy--you and I."

  (_Concluded in the next issue_)