THE SKYLARK OF SPACE, by E.E. “Doc” Smith [Part 2]

CHAPTER XI

Through Space Into the Carboniferous

Seaton opened his eyes and gazed about him wonderingly. Only half conscious, bruised and sore in every part of his body, he could not at first realize what had happened. Instinctively drawing a deep breath, he coughed and choked as the undiluted oxygen filled his lungs, bringing with it a complete understanding of the situation. Knowing from the lack of any apparent motion that the power had been sufficient to pull the car away from that fatal globe, his first thought was for Dorothy, and he tore off his helmet and turned toward her. The force of even that slight movement, wafted him gently into the air where he hung suspended several minutes before his struggles enabled him to clutch a post and draw himself down to the floor. A quick glance around informed him that Dorothy, as well as the others, was still unconscious. Making his way rapidly to her, he placed her face downward upon the floor and began artificial respiration. Very soon he was rewarded by the coughing he had longed to hear. He tore off her helmet and clasped her to his breast in an agony of relief, while she sobbed convulsively upon his shoulder. The first ecstasy of their greeting over, Dorothy started guiltily.

“Oh, Dick!” she exclaimed. “How about Peggy? You must see how she is!”

“Never mind,” answered Crane’s voice cheerily. “She is coming to nicely.”

Glancing around quickly, they saw that Crane had already revived the stranger, and that DuQuesne was not in sight. Dorothy blushed, the vivid wave of color rising to her glorious hair, and hastily disengaged her arms from around her lover’s neck, drawing away from him. Seaton, also blushing, dropped his arms, and Dorothy floated away from him, frantically clutching at a brace just beyond reach.

“Pull me down, Dick!” she called, laughing gaily.

Seaton, seizing her instinctively, neglected his own anchorage and they hung in the air together, while Crane and Margaret, each holding a strap, laughed with unrestrained merriment.

“Tweet, tweet—I’m a canary!” chuckled Seaton. “Throw us a rope!”

“A Dicky-bird, you mean,” interposed Dorothy.

“I knew that you were a sleight-of-hand expert, Dick, but I did not know that levitation was one of your specialties,” remarked Crane with mock gravity. “That is a peculiar pose you are holding now. What are you doing—sitting on an imaginary pedestal?”

“I’ll be sitting on your neck if you don’t get a wiggle on with that rope!” retorted Seaton, but before Crane had time to obey the command the floating couple had approached close enough to the ceiling so that Seaton, with a slight pressure of his hand against the leather, sent them floating back to the floor, within reach of one of the handrails.

Seaton made his way to the power-plant, lifted in one of the remaining bars, and applied a little power. The Skylark seemed to jump under them, then it seemed as though they were back on Earth—everything had its normal weight once more, as the amount of power applied was just enough to equal the acceleration of gravity. After this fact had been explained, Dorothy turned to Margaret.

“Now that we are able to act intelligently, the party should be introduced to each other. Peggy, this is Dr. Dick Seaton, and this is Mr. Martin Crane. Boys, this is Miss Margaret Spencer, a dear friend of mine. These are the boys I have told you so much about, Peggy. Dick knows all about atoms and things; he found out how to make the Skylark go. Martin, who is quite a wonderful inventor, made the engines and things for it.”

“I may have heard of Mr. Crane,” replied Margaret eagerly. “My father was an inventor, and I have heard him speak of a man named Crane who invented a lot of instruments for airplanes. He used to say that the Crane instruments revolutionized flying. I wonder if you are that Mr. Crane?”

“That is rather unjustifiably high praise, Miss Spencer,” replied Crane, “but as I have been guilty of one or two things along that line, I may be the man he meant.”

“Pardon me if I seem to change the subject,” put in Seaton, “but where’s DuQuesne?”

“We came to at the same time, and he went into the galley to fix up something to eat.”

“Good for him!” exclaimed Dorothy. “I’m simply starved to death. I would have been demanding food long ago, but I have so many aches and pains that I didn’t realize how hungry I was until you mentioned it. Come on, Peggy, I know where our room is. Let’s go powder our noses while these bewhiskered gentlemen reap their beards. Did you bring along any of my clothes, Dick, or did you forget them in the excitement?”

“I didn’t think anything about clothes, but Martin did. You’ll find your whole wardrobe in your room. I’m with you, Dot, on that eating proposition—I’m hungry enough to eat the jamb off the door!”

* * * *

After the girls had gone, Seaton and Crane went to their rooms, where they exercised vigorously to restore the circulation to their numbed bodies, shaved, bathed, and returned to the saloon feeling like new men. They found the girls already there, seated at one of the windows.

“Hail and greeting!” cried Dorothy at sight of them. “I hardly recognized you without your whiskers. Do hurry over here and look out this perfectly wonderful window. Did you ever in your born days see anything like this sight? Now that I’m not scared pea-green, I can enjoy it thoroughly!”

The two men joined the girls and peered out into space through the window, which was completely invisible, so clear was the glass. As the four heads bent, so close together, an awed silence fell upon the little group. For the blackness of the interstellar void was not the dark of an earthly night, but the absolute black of the absence of all light, beside which the black of platinum dust is pale and gray; and laid upon this velvet were the jewel stars. They were not the twinkling, scintillating beauties of the earthly sky, but minute points, so small as to seem dimensionless, yet of dazzling brilliance. Without the interference of the air, their rays met the eye steadily and much of the effect of comparative distance was lost. All seemed nearer and there was no hint of familiarity in their arrangement. Like gems thrown upon darkness they shone in multi-colored beauty upon the daring wanderers, who stood in their car as easily as though they were upon their parent Earth, and gazed upon a sight never before seen by eye of man nor pictured in his imaginings.

Through the daze of their wonder, a thought smote Seaton like a blow from a fist. His eyes leaped to the instrument board and he exclaimed:

“Look there, Mart! We’re heading almost directly away from the Earth, and we must be making billions of miles per second. After we lost consciousness, the attraction of that big dud back there would swing us around, of course, but the bar should have stayed pointed somewhere near the Earth, as I left it. Do you suppose it could have shifted the gyroscopes?”

“It not only could have, it did,” replied Crane, turning the bar until it again pointed parallel with the object-compass which bore upon the Earth. “Look at the board. The angle has been changed through nearly half a circumference. We couldn’t carry gyroscopes heavy enough to counteract that force.”

“But they were heavier there—Oh, sure, you’re right. It’s mass, not weight, that counts. But we sure are in one fine, large jam now. Instead of being half-way back to the Earth we’re—where are we, anyway?”

They made a reading on an object-compass focused upon the Earth. Seaton’s face lengthened as seconds passed. When it had come to rest, both men calculated the distance.

“What d’you make it, Mart? I’m afraid to tell you my result.”

“Forty-six point twenty-seven light-centuries,” replied Crane, calmly. “Right?”

“Right, and the time was 11:32 P. M. of Thursday, by the chronometer there. We’ll time it again after a while and see how fast we’re traveling. It’s a good thing you built the ship’s chronometers to stand any kind of stress. My watch is a total loss. Yours is, too?”

“All of our watches must be broken. We will have to repair them as soon as we get time.”

“Well, let’s eat next! No human being can stand my aching void much longer. How about you, Dot?”

“Yes, for Cat’s sake, let’s get busy!” she mimicked him gaily. “Doctor DuQuesne’s had dinner ready for ages, and we’re all dying by inches of hunger.”

* * * *

The wanderers, battered, bruised, and sore, seated themselves at a folding table, Seaton keeping a watchful eye upon the bar and upon the course, while enjoying Dorothy’s presence to the full. Crane and Margaret talked easily, but at intervals. Save when directly addressed. DuQuesne maintained silence—not the silence of one who knows himself to be an intruder, but the silence of perfect self-sufficiency. The meal over, the girls washed the dishes and busied themselves in the galley. Seaton and Crane made another observation upon the Earth, requesting DuQuesne to stay out of the “engine room” as they called the partially-enclosed space surrounding the main instrument board, where were located the object-compasses and the mechanism controlling the attractor, about which DuQuesne knew nothing. As they rejoined DuQuesne in the main compartment, Seaton said:

“DuQuesne, we’re nearly five thousand light-years away from the Earth, and are getting farther at the rate of about one light-year per minute.”

“I suppose that it would be poor technique to ask how you know?”

“It would—very poor. Our figures are right. The difficulty is that we have only four bars left—enough to stop us and a little to spare, but not nearly enough to get back with, even if we could take a chance on drifting straight that far without being swung off—which, of course, is impossible.”

“That means that we must land somewhere and dig some copper, then.”

“Exactly.

“The first thing to do is to find a place to land.”

Seaton picked out a distant star in their course and observed it through the spectroscope. Since it was found to contain copper in notable amounts, all agreed that its planets probably also contained copper.

“Don’t know whether we can stop that soon or not,” remarked Seaton as he set the levers, “but we may as well have something to shoot at. We’d better take our regular twelve-hour tricks, hadn’t we, Mart? It’s a wonder we got as far as this without striking another snag. I’ll take the first trick at the board—beat it to bed.”

“Not so fast, Dick,” argued Crane, as Seaton turned toward the engine-room: “It’s my turn.”

“Flip a nickel,” suggested Seaton. “Heads I get it.”

Crane flipped a coin. Heads it was, and the worn-out party went to their rooms, all save Dorothy, who lingered after the others to bid her lover a more intimate good-night.

Seated beside him, his arm around her and her head upon his shoulder, Dorothy exclaimed:

“Oh, Dicky, Dicky, it is wonderful to be with you again! I’ve lived as many years in the last week as we have covered miles!”

Seaton kissed her with ardor, then turned her fair face up to his and gazed hungrily at every feature.

“It sure was awful until we found you, sweetheart girl. Those two days at Wilson’s were the worst and longest I ever put in. I could have wrung Martin’s cautious old neck!

“But isn’t he a wiz at preparing for trouble? We sure owe him a lot, little dimpled lady.”

Dorothy was silent for a moment, then a smile quirked at one corner of her mouth and a dimple appeared. Seaton promptly kissed it, whereupon it deepened audaciously.

“What are you thinking about—mischief?” he asked.

“Only of how Martin is going to be paid what we owe him,” she answered teasingly. “Don’t let the debt worry you any.”

“Spill the news, Reddy,” he commanded, as his arm tightened about her.

She stuck out a tiny tip of red tongue at him.

“Don’t let Peggy find out he’s a millionaire.”

“Why not?” he asked wonderingly, then he saw her point and laughed:

“You little matchmaker!”

“I don’t care, laugh if you want to. Martin’s as nice a man as I know, and Peggy’s a real darling. Don’t you let slip a word about Martin’s money, that’s all!”

“She wouldn’t think any less of him, would she?”

“Dick, sometimes you are absolutely dumb. It would spoil everything. If she knew he was a millionaire she would be scared to death—not of him, of course, but because she would think that he would think that she was chasing him, and then of course he would think that she was, see? As it is, she acts perfectly natural, and so does he. Didn’t you notice that while we were eating they talked together for at least fifteen minutes about her father’s invention and the way they stole the plans and one thing and another? I don’t believe he has talked that much to any girl except me the last five years—and he wouldn’t talk to me until he knew that I couldn’t see any man except you. Much as we like Martin, we’ve got to admit that about him. He’s been chased so much that he’s wild. If any other girl he knows had talked to him that long, he would have been off to the North Pole or somewhere the next morning, and the best part of it is that he didn’t think anything of it.”

* * * *

“You think she is domesticating the wild man?”

“Now, Dick, don’t be foolish. You know what I mean. Martin is a perfect dear, but if she knew that he is the M. Reynolds Crane, everything would be ruined. You know yourself how horribly hard it is to get through his shell to the real Martin underneath. He is lonely and miserable inside, I know, and the right kind of girl, one that would treat him right, would make life Heaven for him, and herself too.”

“Yes, and the wrong kind would make it.…”

“She would,” interrupted Dorothy hastily, “but Peggy’s the right kind. Wouldn’t it be fine to have Martin and Peggy as happy, almost, as you and I are?”

“All right, girlie, I’m with you,” he answered, embracing her as though he intended never to let her go, “but you’d better go get some sleep—you’re all in.”

Considerably later, when Dorothy had finally gone, Seaton settled himself for the long vigil. Promptly at the end of the twelve hours Crane appeared, alert of eye and of bearing.

“You look fresh as a daisy, Mart. Feeling fit?”

“Fit as the proverbial fiddle. I could not have slept any better or longer if I had had a week off. Seven hours and a half is a luxury, you know.”

“All wrong, old top. I need eight every night, and I’m going to take about ten this time.”

“Go to it, twelve if you like. You have earned it.”

Seaton stumbled to his room and slept as though in a trance for ten hours. Rising, he took his regular morning exercises and went into the saloon. All save Martin were there, but he had eyes only for his sweetheart, who was radiantly beautiful in a dress of deep bronze-brown.

“Good morning, Dick,” she hailed him joyously. “You woke up just in time—we are all starving again, and were just going to eat without you!”

“Good morning, everybody. I would like to eat with you, Dottie, but I’ve got to relieve Martin. How’d it be for you to bring breakfast into the engine room and cheer my solitude, and let Crane eat with the others?”

“Fine—that’s once you had a good idea, if you never have another!”

After the meal DuQuesne, who abhorred idleness with all his vigorous nature, took the watches of the party and went upstairs to the “shop,” which was a completely-equipped mechanical laboratory, to repair them. Seaton stayed at the board, where Dorothy joined him as a matter of course. Crane and Margaret sat down at one of the windows.

She told him her story, frankly and fully, shuddering with horror as she recalled the awful, helpless fall, during which Perkins had met his end.

“Dick and I have a heavy score to settle with that Steel crowd and with DuQuesne,” Crane said slowly. “We have no evidence that will hold in law, but some day DuQuesne will over-reach himself. We could convict him of abduction now, but the penalty for that is too mild for what he has done. Perkins’ death was not murder, then?”

“Oh, no, it was purely self-defense. Perkins would have killed him if he could. And he really deserved it—Perkins was a perfect fiend. The Doctor, as they call him, is no better, although entirely different. He is so utterly heartless and ruthless, so cold and scientific. Do you know him very well?”

“We know all that about him, and more. And yet Dorothy said he saved her life?”

“He did, from Perkins, but I still think it was because he didn’t want Perkins meddling in his affairs. He seems to me to be the very incarnation of a fixed purpose—to advance himself in the world.”

“That expresses my thoughts exactly. But he slips occasionally, as in this instance, and he will again. He will have to walk very carefully while he is with us. Nothing would please Dick better than an excuse for killing him, and I must admit that I feel very much the same way.”

“Yes, all of us do, and the way he acts proves what a machine he is. He knows just exactly how far to go, and never goes beyond it.”

They felt the Skylark lurch slightly.

“Oh, Mart!” called Seaton. “Going to pass that star we were headed for—too fast to stop. I’m giving it a wide berth and picking out another one. There’s a big planet a few million miles off in line with the main door, and another one almost dead ahead—that is, straight down. We sure are traveling. Look at that sun flit by!”

* * * *

They saw the two planets, one like a small moon, the other like a large star, and saw the strange sun increase rapidly in size as the Skylark flew on at such a pace that any earthly distance would have been covered as soon as it was begun. So appalling was their velocity that their ship was bathed in the light of that sun for only a short time, then was again surrounded by the indescribable darkness. Their seventy-two-hour flight without a pilot had seemed a miracle, now it seemed entirely possible that they might fly in a straight line for weeks without encountering any obstacle, so vast was the emptiness in comparison with the points of light that punctuated it. Now and then they passed so close to a star that it apparently moved rapidly, but for the most part the silent sentinels stood, like distant mountain peaks to the travelers in an express train, in the same position for many minutes.

Awed by the immensity of the universe, the two at the window were silent, not with the silence of embarrassment, but with that of two friends in the presence of something beyond the reach of words. As they stared out into the infinity each felt as never before the pitiful smallness of even our whole solar system and the utter insignificance of human beings and their works. Silently their minds reached out to each other in mutual understanding.

Unconsciously Margaret half shuddered and moved closer to her companion, the movement attracting his attention but not her own. A tender expression came into Crane’s steady blue eyes as he looked down at the beautiful young woman by his side. For beautiful she undoubtedly was. Untroubled rest and plentiful food had erased the marks of her imprisonment; Dorothy’s deep, manifestly unassumed faith in the ability of Seaton and Crane to bring them safely back to Earth had quieted her fears; and a complete costume of Dorothy’s simple but well-cut clothes, which fitted her perfectly, and in which she looked her best and knew it, had completely restored her self-possession. He quickly glanced away and again gazed at the stars, but now, in addition to the wonders of space, he saw masses of wavy black hair, high-piled upon a queenly head; deep down brown eyes half veiled by long, black lashes; sweet, sensitive lips; a firmly rounded but dimpled chin; and a perfectly-formed young body.

After a time she drew a deep, tremulous breath. As he turned, her eyes met his. In their shadowy depths, still troubled by the mystery of the unknowable, he read her very soul—the soul of a real woman.

“I had hoped,” said Margaret slowly, “to take a long flight above the clouds, but anything like this never entered my mind. How unbelievably great it is! So much vaster than any perception we could get upon earth! It seems strange that we were ever awed by the sea or the mountains…and yet.…”

She paused, with her lip caught under two white teeth, then went on hesitatingly:

“Doesn’t it seem to you, Mr. Crane, that there is something in man as great as all this? Otherwise, Dorothy and I could not be sailing here in a wonder like the Lark, which you and Dick Seaton have made.”

* * * *

Since from the first, Dorothy had timed her waking hours with those of Seaton—waiting upon him, preparing his meals, and lightening the long hours of his vigils at the board—Margaret took it upon herself to do the same thing for Crane. But often they assembled in the engine-room, and there was much fun and laughter, as well as serious talk, among the four. Margaret was quickly accepted as a friend, and proved a delightful companion. Her wavy, jet-black hair, the only color in the world that could hold its own with Dorothy’s auburn glory, framed features self-reliant and strong, yet of womanly softness; and in this genial atmosphere her quick tongue had a delicate wit and a facility of expression that delighted all three. Dorothy, after the manner of Southern women, became the hostess of this odd “party,” as she styled it, and unconsciously adopted the attitude of a lady in her own home.

Early in their flight, Crane suggested that they should take notes upon the systems of stars through which were passing.

“I know very little of astronomy,” he said to Seaton, “but with our telescope, spectroscope, and other instruments, we should be able to take some data that will be of interest to astronomers. Possibly Miss Spencer would be willing to help us?”

“Sure,” Seaton returned readily. “We’d be idiots to let a chance like this slide. Go to it!”

Margaret was delighted at the opportunity to help.

“Taking notes is the best thing I do!” she cried, and called for a pad and pencil.

Stationed at the window, they fell to work in earnest. For several hours Crane took observations, calculated distances, and dictated notes to Margaret.

“The stars are wonderfully different!” she exclaimed to him once. “That planet, I’m sure, has strange and lovely life upon it. See how its color differs from most of the others we have seen so near? It is rosy and soft like a home fire. I’m sure its people are happy.”

They fell into a long discussion, laughing a little at their fancies. Were these multitudes of worlds peopled as the Earth? Could it be that only upon Earth had occurred the right combination for the generation of life, so that the rest of the Universe was unpeopled?

“It is unthinkable that they are all uninhabited,” mused Crane. “There must be life. The beings may not exist in any form with which we are familiar—they may well be fulfilling some purpose in ways so different from ours that we should be unable to understand them at all.”

Margaret’s eyes widened in startled apprehension, but in a moment she shook herself and laughed.

“But there’s no reason to suppose they would be awful,” she remarked, and turned with renewed interest to the window.

Thus days went by and the Skylark passed one solar system after another, with a velocity so great that it was impossible to land upon any planet. Margaret’s association with Crane, begun as a duty, soon became an intense pleasure for them both. Taking notes or seated at the board in companionable conversation or sympathetic silence, they compressed into a few days more real companionship than is ordinarily enjoyed in months. Oftener and oftener, as time went on, Crane found the vision of his dream home floating in his mind as he steered the Skylark in her meteoric flight or as he strapped himself into his narrow bed. Now, however, the central figure of the vision, instead of being an indistinct blur, was clear and sharply defined. And for her part, more and more was Margaret drawn to the quiet and unassuming, but utterly dependable and steadfast young inventor, with his wide knowledge and his keen, incisive mind.

* * * *

Sometimes, when far from any star, the pilot would desert his post and join the others at meals. Upon one such occasion Seaton asked:

“How’s the book on astronomy, oh, learned ones?”

“It will be as interesting as Egyptian hieroglyphics,” Margaret replied, as she opened her notebook and showed him pages of figures and symbols.

“May I see it, Miss Spencer?” asked DuQuesne from across the small table, extending his hand.

She looked at him, hot hostility in her brown eyes, and he dropped his hand.

“I beg your pardon,” he said, with amused irony.

After the meal Seaton and Crane held a short consultation, and the former called to the girls, asking them to join in the “council of war.” There was a moment’s silence before Crane said diffidently:

“We have been talking about DuQuesne, Miss Spencer, trying to decide a very important problem.”

Seaton smiled in spite of himself as the color again deepened in Margaret’s face, and Dorothy laughed outright.

“Talk about a red-headed temper! Your hair must be dyed, Peggy!”

“I know I acted like a naughty child,” Margaret said ruefully, “but he makes me perfectly furious and scares me at the same time. A few more remarks like that ‘I beg your pardon’ of his and I wouldn’t have a thought left in my head!”

Seaton, who had opened his mouth, shut it again ludicrously, without saying a word, and Margaret gave him a startled glance.

“Now I have said it!” she exclaimed. “I’m not afraid of him, boys, really. What do you want me to do?”

Seaton plunged in.

“What we were trying to get up nerve enough to say is that he’d be a good man on the astronomy job,” and Crane added quickly:

“He undoubtedly knows more about it than I do, and it would be a pity to lose the chance of using him. Besides, Dick and I think it rather dangerous to leave him so much time to himself, in which to work up a plan against us.”

“He’s cooking one right now, I’ll bet a hat,” Seaton put in, and Crane added:

“If you are sure that you have no objections, Miss Spencer, we might go below, where we can have it dark, and all three of us see what we can make of the stargazing. We are really losing an unusual opportunity.”

Margaret hid gallantly any reluctance she might have felt.

“I wouldn’t deserve to be here if I can’t work with the Doctor and hate him at the same time.”

“Good for you, Peg, you’re a regular fellow!” Seaton exclaimed. “You’re a trump!”

* * * *

Finally, the enormous velocity of the cruiser was sufficiently reduced to effect a landing, a copper-bearing sun was located, and a course was laid toward its nearest planet.

As the vessel approached its goal a deep undercurrent of excitement kept all the passengers feverishly occupied. They watched the distant globe grow larger, glowing through its atmosphere more and more clearly as a great disk of white light, its outline softened by the air about it. Two satellites were close beside it. Its sun, a great, blazing orb, a little nearer than the planet, looked so great and so hot that Margaret became uneasy.

“Isn’t it dangerous to get so close, Dick? We might burn up, mightn’t we?”

“Not without an atmosphere,” he laughed.

“Oh,” murmured the girl apologetically, “I might have known that.”

Dropping rapidly into the atmosphere of the planet, they measured its density and analyzed it in apparatus installed for that purpose, finding that its composition was very similar to the Earth’s air and that its pressure was not enough greater to be uncomfortable. When within one thousand feet of the surface, Seaton weighed a five-pound weight upon a spring-balance, finding that it weighed five and a half pounds, thus ascertaining that the planet was either somewhat larger than the Earth or more dense. The ground was almost hidden by a rank growth of vegetation, but here and there appeared glade-like openings.

Seaton glanced at the faces about him. Tense interest marked them all. Dorothy’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes shone. She looked at him with awe and pride.

“A strange world, Dorothy,” he said gravely. “You are not afraid?”

“Not with you,” she answered. “I am only thrilled with wonder.”

“Columbus at San Salvador,” said Margaret, her dark eyes paying their tribute of admiration.

A dark flush mounted swiftly into Seaton’s brown face and he sought to throw most of the burden upon Crane, but catching upon his face also a look of praise, almost of tenderness, he quickly turned to the controls.

“Man the boats!” he ordered an imaginary crew, and the Skylark descended rapidly.

Landing upon one of the open spaces, they found the ground solid and stepped out. What had appeared to be a glade was in reality a rock, or rather, a ledge of apparently solid metal, with scarcely a loose fragment to be seen. At one end of the ledge rose a giant tree wonderfully symmetrical, but of a peculiar form. Its branches were longer at the top than at the bottom, and it possessed broad, dark-green leaves, long thorns, and odd, flexible, shoot-like tendrils. It stood as an outpost of the dense vegetation beyond. Totally unlike the forests of Earth were those fern-like trees, towering two hundred feet into the air. They were of an intensely vivid green and stood motionless in the still, hot air of noonday. Not a sign of animal life was to be seen; the whole landscape seemed asleep.

The five strangers stood near their vessel, conversing in low tones and enjoying the sensation of solid ground beneath their feet. After a few minutes DuQuesne remarked:

“This is undoubtedly a newer planet than ours. I should say that it was in the Carboniferous age. Aren’t those trees like those in the coal-measures, Seaton?”

“True as time, Blackie—there probably won’t be a human race here for ages, unless we bring out some colonists.”

Seaton kicked at one of the loose lumps of metal questioningly with his heavy shoe, finding that it was as immovable as though it were part of the ledge. Bending over, he found that it required all his great strength to lift it and he stared at it with an expression of surprise, which turned to amazement as he peered closer.

“DuQuesne! Look at this!”

DuQuesne studied the metal, and was shaken out of his habitual taciturnity.

“Platinum, by all the little gods!”

“We’ll grab some of this while the grabbing’s good,” announced Seaton, and the few visible lumps were rolled into the car. “If we had a pickaxe we could chop some more off one of those sharp ledges down there.”

“There’s an axe in the shop,” replied DuQuesne. “I’ll go get it. Go ahead, I’ll soon be with you.”

“Keep close together,” warned Crane as the four moved slowly down the slope. “This is none too safe, Dick.”

“No, it isn’t, Mart. But we’ve got to see whether we can’t find some copper, and I would like to get some more of this stuff, too. I don’t think it’s platinum, I believe that it’s X.”

As they reached the broken projections, Margaret glanced back over her shoulder and screamed. The others saw that her face was white and her eyes wide with horror, and Seaton instinctively drew his pistol as he whirled about, only to check his finger on the trigger and lower his hand.

“Nothing but X-plosive bullets,” he growled in disgust, and in helpless silence the four watched an unspeakably hideous monster slowly appear from behind the Skylark. Its four huge, squat legs supported a body at least a hundred feet long, pursy and ungainly; at the extremity of a long and sinuous neck a comparatively small head seemed composed entirely of a cavernous mouth armed with row upon row of carnivorous teeth. Dorothy gasped with terror and both girls shrank closer to the two men, who maintained a baffled silence as the huge beast passed his revolting head along the hull of the vessel.

“I dare not shoot, Martin,” Seaton whispered, “it would wreck the bus. Have you got any solid bullets?”

“No. We must hide behind these small ledges until it goes away,” answered Crane, his eyes upon Margaret’s colorless face. “You two hide behind that one, we will take this one.”

“Oh, well, it’s nothing to worry about, anyway. We can kill him as soon as he gets far enough away from the boat,” said Seaton as, with Dorothy clinging to him, he dropped behind one of the ledges. Margaret, her staring eyes fixed upon the monster, remained standing until Crane touched her gently and drew her down beside him.

“He will go away soon,” his even voice assured her. “We are in no danger.”

In spite of their predicament, a feeling of happiness flowed through Crane’s whole being as he crouched beside the wall of metal with one arm protectingly around Margaret, and he longed to protect her through life as he was protecting her then. Accustomed as he was to dangerous situations, he felt no fear. He felt only a great tenderness for the girl by his side, who had ceased trembling but was still staring wide-eyed at the monster through a crevice.

“Scared, Peggy?” he whispered.

“Not now, Martin, but if you weren’t here I would die of fright.”

At this reply his arm tightened involuntarily, but he forced it to relax.

“It will not be long,” he promised himself silently, “until she is back at home among her friends, and then.…”

There came the crack of a rifle from the Skylark. There was an awful roar from the dinosaur, which was quickly silenced by a stream of machine-gun bullets.

“Blackie’s on the job—let’s go!” cried Seaton, and they raced up the slope. Making a detour to avoid the writhing and mutilated mass they plunged through the opening door. DuQuesne shut it behind them and in overwhelming relief, the adventurers huddled together as from the wilderness without there arose an appalling tumult.

* * * *

The scene, so quiet a few moments before, was instantly changed. The trees, the swamp, and the air seemed filled with monsters so hideous as to stagger the imagination. Winged lizards of prodigious size hurtled through the air, plunging to death against the armored hull. Indescribable flying monsters, with feathers like birds, but with the fangs of tigers, attacked viciously. Dorothy screamed and started back as a scorpion-like thing with a body ten feet in length leaped at the window in front of her, its terrible sting spraying the glass with venom. As it fell to the ground, a huge spider—if an eight-legged creature with spines instead of hair, many-faceted eyes, and a bloated, globular body weighing hundreds of pounds, may be called a spider—leaped upon it and, mighty mandibles against poisonous sting, the furious battle raged. Several twelve-foot cockroaches climbed nimbly across the fallen timber of the morass and began feeding voraciously upon the body of the dead dinosaur, only to be driven away by another animal, which all three men recognized instantly as that king of all prehistoric creatures, the saber-toothed tiger. This newcomer, a tawny beast towering fifteen feet high at the shoulder, had a mouth disproportionate even to his great size—a mouth armed with four great tiger-teeth more than three feet in length. He had barely begun his meal, however, when he was challenged by another nightmare, a something apparently half-way between a dinosaur and a crocodile. At the first note the tiger charged. Clawing, striking, rending each other with their terrible teeth, a veritable avalanche of bloodthirsty rage, the combatants stormed up and down the little island. But the fighters were rudely interrupted, and the earthly visitors discovered that in this primitive world it was not only animal life that was dangerous.

The great tree standing on the farther edge of the island suddenly bent over, lashing out like a snake and grasping both. It transfixed them with the terrible thorns, which were now seen to be armed with needlepoints and to possess barbs like fish-hooks.

The great tree standing on the farther edge of the island suddenly bent over, lashing out like a snake and grasping both. It transfixed them with the terrible thorns, which were now seen to be armed with needlepoints and to possess barbs like fish-hooks. It ripped at them with the long branches, which were veritable spears. The broad leaves, armed with revolting sucking disks, closed about the two animals, while the long, slender twigs, each of which was now seen to have an eye at its extremity, waved about, watching each movement of the captives from a safe distance.

If the struggle between the two animals had been awful, this was Titanic. The air was torn by the roars of the reptile, the screams of the great cat, and the shrieks of the tree. The very ground rocked with the ferocity of the conflict. There could be but one result—soon the tree, having absorbed the two gladiators, resumed its upright position in all its beauty.

The members of the little group stared at each other, sick at heart.

“This is NO place to start a copper-mine. I think we’d better beat it,” remarked Seaton presently, wiping drops of perspiration from his forehead.

“I think so,” acquiesced Crane. “We found air and Earth-like conditions here; we probably will elsewhere.”

“Are you all right, Dottie?” asked Seaton.

“All right, Dicky,” she replied, the color flowing back into her cheeks. “It scared me stiff, and I think I have a lot of white hairs right now, but I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

She paused an instant, and continued:

“Dick, there must be a queer streak of brutality in me, but would you mind blowing up that frightful tree? I wouldn’t mind its nature if it were ugly—but look at it! It’s so deceptively beautiful! You wouldn’t think it had the disposition of a fiend, would you?”

A general laugh relieved the nervous tension, and Seaton stepped impulsively toward DuQuesne with his hand outstretched.

“You’ve squared your account, Blackie. Say the word and the war’s all off.”

DuQuesne ignored the hand and glanced coldly at the group of eager, friendly faces.

“Don’t be sentimental,” he remarked evenly as he turned away to his room. “Emotional scenes pain me. I gave my word to act as one of the party.”

“Well, may I be kicked to death by little red spiders!” exclaimed Seaton, dumbfounded, as the other disappeared. “He ain’t a man, he’s a fish!”

“He’s a machine. I always thought so, and now I know it,” stated Margaret, and the others nodded agreement.

“Well, we’ll sure pull his cork as soon as we get back!” snapped Seaton. “He asked for it, and we’ll give him both barrels!”

“I know I acted the fool out there,” Margaret apologized, flushing hotly and looking at Crane. “I don’t know what made me act so stupid. I used to have a little nerve.”

“You were a regular little brick, Peg,” Seaton returned instantly. “Both you girls are all to the good—the right kind to have along in ticklish places.”

Crane held out his steady hand and took Margaret’s in a warm clasp.

“For a girl in your weakened condition you were wonderful. You have no reason to reproach yourself.”

Tears filled the dark eyes, but were held back bravely as she held her head erect and returned the pressure of his hand.

“Just so you don’t leave me behind next time,” she returned lightly, and the last word concerning the incident had been said.

Seaton applied the power and soon they were approaching another planet, which was surrounded by a dense fog. Descending slowly, they found it to be a mass of boiling-hot steam and rank vapors, under enormous pressure.

The next planet they found to have a clear atmosphere, but the ground had a peculiar, barren look; and analysis of the gaseous envelope proved it to be composed almost entirely of chlorin. No life of an earthly type could be possible upon such a world, and a search for copper, even with the suits and helmets, would probably be fruitless if not impossible.

“Well,” remarked Seaton as they were again in space, “we’ve got enough copper to visit several more worlds—several more solar systems, if necessary. But there’s a nice, hopeful-looking planet right in front of us. It may be the one we’re looking for.”

Arrived in the belt of atmosphere, they tested it as before, and found it satisfactory.

CHAPTER XII

The Mastery of Mind Over Matter

They descended rapidly, directly over a large and imposing city in the middle of a vast, level, beautifully-planted plain. While they were watching it, the city vanished and the plain was transformed into a heavily-timbered mountain summit, the valleys falling away upon all sides as far as the eye could reach.

“Well, I’ll say that’s SOME mirage!” exclaimed Seaton, rubbing his eyes in astonishment. “I’ve seen mirages before, but never anything like that. Wonder what this air’s made of? But we’ll land, anyway, if we finally have to swim!”

The ship landed gently upon the summit, the occupants half expecting to see the ground disappear before their eyes. Nothing happened, however, and they disembarked, finding walking somewhat difficult because of the great mass of the planet. Looking around, they could see no sign of life, but they felt a presence near them—a vast, invisible something.

Suddenly, out of the air in front of Seaton, a man materialized: a man identical with him in every feature and detail, even to the smudge of grease under one eye, the small wrinkles in his heavy blue serge suit, and the emblem of the American Chemical Society upon his watch-fob.

“Hello, folks,” the stranger began in Seaton’s characteristic careless speech. “I see you’re surprised at my knowing your language. You’re a very inferior race of animals—don’t even understand telepathy, don’t understand the luminiferous ether, or the relation between time and space. Your greatest things, such as the Skylark and your object-compass, are merely toys.”

Changing instantly from Seaton’s form to that of Dorothy, likewise a perfect imitation, the stranger continued without a break:

“Atoms and electrons and things, spinning and whirling in their dizzy little orbits.…” It broke off abruptly, continuing in the form of DuQuesne:

“Couldn’t make myself clear as Miss Vaneman—not a scientific convolution in her foolish little brain. You are a freer type, DuQuesne, unhampered by foolish, soft fancies. But you are very clumsy, although working fairly well with your poor tools—Brookings and his organization, the Perkins Café and its clumsy wireless telephones. All of you are extremely low in the scale. Such animals have not been known in our universe for ten million years, which is as far back as I can remember. You have millions of years to go before you will amount to anything; before you will even rise above death and its attendant necessity, sex.”

The strange being then assumed form after form with bewildering rapidity, while the spectators stared in dumb astonishment. In rapid succession it took on the likeness of each member of the party, of the vessel itself, of the watch in Seaton‘s pocket—reappearing as Seaton.

“Well, bunch,” it said in a matter-of-fact voice, “there’s no mental exercise in you and you’re such a low form of life that you’re of no use on this planet; so I’ll dematerialize you.”

* * * *

A peculiar light came into its eyes as they stared intently into Seaton’s, and he felt his senses reel under the impact of an awful mental force, but he fought back with all his power and remained standing.

“What’s this?” the stranger demanded in surprise, “This is the first time in history that mere matter—which is only a manifestation of mind—has ever refused to obey mind. There’s a screw loose somewhere.”

“I must reason this out,” it continued analytically, changing instantaneously into Crane’s likeness. “Ah! I am not a perfect reproduction. This is the first matter I have ever encountered that I could not reproduce perfectly. There is some subtle difference. The external form is the same, the organic structure likewise. The molecules of substance are arranged as they should be, as are also the atoms in the molecule. The electrons in the atom—ah! There is the difficulty. The arrangement and number of electrons, as well as positive charges, are entirely different from what I had supposed. I must derive the formula.”

“Let’s go, folks!” said Seaton hastily, drawing Dorothy back toward the Skylark. “This dematerialization stunt may be play for him, but I don’t want any of it in my family.”

“No, you really must stay,” remonstrated the stranger. “Much as it is against my principles to employ brute force, you must stay and be properly dematerialized, alive or dead. Science demands it.”

As he spoke, he started to draw his automatic pistol. Being in Crane’s form, he drew slowly, as Crane did; and Seaton, with the dexterity of much sleight-of-hand work and of years of familiarity with his weapon, drew and fired in one incredibly rapid movement, before the other had withdrawn the pistol from his pocket. The X-plosive shell completely volatilized the stranger and hurled the party backward toward the Skylark, into which they fled hastily. As Crane, the last one to enter the vessel, fired his pistol and closed the massive door, Seaton leaped to the levers. As he did so, he saw a creature materialize in the air of the vessel and fall to the floor with a crash as he threw on the power. It was a frightful thing, like nothing ever before seen upon any world; with great teeth, long, sharp claws, and an automatic pistol clutched firmly in a human hand. Forced flat by the terrific acceleration of the vessel, it was unable to lift either itself or the weapon, and lay helpless.

“We take one trick, anyway!” blazed Seaton, as he threw on the power of the attractor and diffused its force into a screen over the party, so that the enemy could not materialize in the air above them and crush them by mere weight. “As pure mental force, you’re entirely out of my class, but when you come down to matter, which I can understand, I’ll give you a run for your money until my angles catch fire.”

“That is a childish defiance. It speaks well for your courage, but ill for your intelligence,” the animal said, and vanished.

A moment later Seaton’s hair almost stood on end as he saw an automatic pistol appear upon the board directly in front of him, clamped to it by bands of steel. Paralyzed by this unlooked-for demonstration of the mastery of mind over matter, unable to move a muscle, he lay helpless, staring at the engine of death in front of him. Although the whole proceeding occupied only a fraction of a second, it seemed to Seaton as though he watched the weapon for hours. As the sleeve drew back, cocking the pistol and throwing a cartridge into the chamber, the trigger moved, and the hammer descended to speed on its way the bullet which was to blot out his life. There was a sharp click as the hammer fell—Seaton was surprised to find himself still alive until a voice spoke, apparently from the muzzle of the pistol, with the harsh sound of a metallic diaphragm.

“I was almost certain that it wouldn’t explode,” the stranger said, chattily. “You see, I haven’t derived that formula yet, so I couldn’t make a real explosive. I could of course, materialize beside you, under your protective screen, and crush you in a vise. I could materialize as a man of metal, able to stand up under this acceleration, and do you to death. I could even, by a sufficient expenditure of mental energy, materialize a planet around your ship and crush it. However, these crude methods are distasteful in the extreme, especially since you have already given me some slight and unexpected mental exercise. In return, I shall give you one chance for your lives. I cannot dematerialize either you or your vessel until I work out the formula for your peculiar atomic structure. If I can derive the formula before you reach the boundaries of my home-space, beyond which I cannot go, I shall let you go free. Deriving the formula will be a neat little problem. It should be fairly easy, as it involves only a simple integration in ninety-seven dimensions.”

Silence ensued, and Seaton advanced his lever to the limit of his ability to retain consciousness. Almost overcome by the horror of their position, in an agony of suspense, expecting every instant to be hurled into nothingness, he battled on, with no thought of yielding, even in the face of those overwhelming mental odds.

“You can’t do it, old top,” he thought savagely, concentrating all the power of his highly-trained mind against the intellectual monster. “You can’t dematerialize us, and you can’t integrate above ninety-five dimensions to save your neck. You can’t do it—you’re slipping—you’re all balled up right now!”

For more than an hour the silent battle raged, during which time the Skylark flew millions upon millions of miles toward Earth. Finally the stranger spoke again.

“You three win,” it said abruptly. In answer to the unspoken surprise of all three men it went on: “Yes, all three of you got the same idea and Crane even forced his body to retain consciousness to fight me. Your efforts were very feeble, of course, but were enough to interrupt my calculations at a delicate stage, every time. You are a low form of life, undoubtedly, but with more mentality than I supposed at first. I could get that formula, of course, in spite of you, if I had time, but we are rapidly approaching the limits of my territory, outside of which even I could not think my way back. That is one thing in which your mechanical devices are superior to anything my own race developed before we became pure intellectuals. They point the way back to your Earth, which is so far away that even my mentality cannot grasp the meaning of the distance. I can understand the Earth, can visualize it from your minds, but I cannot project myself any nearer to it than we are at present. Before I leave you, I will say that you have conferred a real favor upon me—you have given me something to think about for thousands of cycles to come. Good-bye.”

Assured that their visitor had really gone, Seaton reduced the power to that of gravity and Dorothy soon sat up, Margaret reviving more slowly.

“Dick,” said Dorothy solemnly, “did that happen or have I been unconscious and just had a nightmare?”

“It happened, all right,” returned her lover, wiping his brow in relief. “See that pistol clamped upon the top of the board? That’s a token in remembrance of him.”

Dorothy, though she had been only half conscious, had heard the words of the stranger. As she looked at the faces of the men, white and drawn with the mental struggle, she realized what they had gone through, and she drew Seaton down into one of the seats, stroking his hair tenderly.

Margaret went to her room immediately, and as she did not return, Dorothy followed. She came back presently with a look of concern upon her face.

“This life is a little hard on Peggy. I didn’t realize how much harder for her it would be than it is for me until I went in there and found her crying. It is much harder for her, of course, since I am with you, Dick, and with you, Martin, whom I know so well. She must feel terribly alone.”

“Why should she?” demanded Seaton. “We think she’s some game little guy. Why, she’s one of the bunch! She must know that!”

“Well, it isn’t the same,” insisted Dorothy. “You be extra nice to her, Dick. But don’t you dare let her know I told you about the tears, or she’d eat me alive!”

Crane said nothing—a not unusual occurrence—but his face grew thoughtful and his manner, when Margaret appeared at mealtime, was more solicitous than usual and more than brotherly in its tenderness.

“I shall be an interstellar diplomat,” Dorothy whispered to Seaton as soon as they were alone. “Wasn’t that a beautiful bee I put upon Martin?”

Seaton stared at her a moment, then shook her gently before he took her into his arms.

* * * *

The information, however, did not prevent him from calling to Crane a few minutes later, even though he was still deep in conversation with Margaret. Dorothy gave him an exasperated glance and walked away.

“I sure pulled a boner that time,” Seaton muttered as he plucked at his hair ruefully. “It nearly did us.

“Let’s test this stuff out and see if it’s X, Mart, while DuQuesne’s out of the way. If it is X, it’s SOME find!”

Seaton cut off a bit of metal with his knife, hammered it into a small piece of copper, and threw the copper into the power-chamber, out of contact with the plating. As the metal received the current the vessel started slightly.

“It is X! Mart, we’ve got enough of this stuff to supply three worlds!”

“Better put it away somewhere,” suggested Crane, and after the metal had been removed to Seaton’s cabin, the two men again sought a landing-place. Almost in their line of flight they saw a close cluster of stars, each emitting a peculiar greenish light which, in the spectroscope, revealed a blaze of copper lines.

“That’s our meat, Martin. We ought to be able to grab some copper in that system, where there’s so much of it that it colors their sunlight.”

“The copper is undoubtedly there, but it might be too dangerous to get so close to so many suns. We may have trouble getting away.”

“Well, our copper’s getting horribly low. We’ve got to find some pretty quick, somewhere, or else walk back home, and there’s our best chance. We’ll feel our way along. If it gets too strong, we’ll beat it.”

When they had approached so close that the suns were great stars widely spaced in the heavens, Crane relinquished the controls to Seaton.

“If you will take the lever awhile, Dick, Margaret and I will go downstairs and see if we can locate a planet.”

After a glance through the telescope, Crane knew that they were still too far from the group of suns to place any planet with certainty, and began taking notes. His mind was not upon his work, however, but was completely filled with thoughts of the girl at his side. The intervals between his comments became longer and longer until they were standing in silence, both staring with unseeing eyes out into the trackless void. But it was in no sense their usual companionable silence. Crane was fighting back the words he longed to say. This lovely girl was not here of her own accord—she had been torn forcibly from her home and from her friends, and he would not, could not, make her already difficult position even more unpleasant by forcing his attentions upon her. Margaret sensed something unusual and significant in his attitude and held herself tense, her heart beating wildly.

At that moment an asteroid came within range of the Skylark’s watchful repeller, and at the lurch of the vessel, as it swung around the obstruction, Margaret would have fallen had not Crane instinctively caught her with one arm. Ordinarily this bit of courtesy would have gone unnoticed by both, as it had happened many times before, but in that heavily-charged atmosphere it took on a new significance. Both blushed hotly, and as their eyes met each saw that which held them spellbound. Slowly, almost as if without volition, Crane put his other arm around her. A wave of deeper crimson swept over her face and she bent her handsome head as her slender body yielded to his arms with no effort to free itself. Finally Crane spoke, his usually even voice faltering.

“Margaret, I hope you will not think this unfair of me…but we have been through so much together that I feel as though we had known each other forever. Until we went through this last experience I had intended to wait—but why should we wait? Life is not lived in years alone, and you know how much I love you, my dearest!” he finished, passionately.

Her arms crept up around his neck, her bowed head lifted, and her eyes looked deep into his as she whispered her answer:

“I think I do… Oh, Martin!”

Presently they made their way back to the engine-room, keeping the singing joy in their hearts inaudible and the kisses fresh upon their lips invisible. They might have kept their secret for a time, had not Seaton promptly asked:

“Well, what did you find, Mart?”

A panicky look appeared upon Crane’s self-possessed countenance and Margaret’s fair face glowed like a peony.

“Yes, what did you find?” demanded Dorothy, as she noticed their confusion.

“My future wife,” Crane answered steadily.

The two girls rushed into each other’s arms and the two men silently gripped hands in a clasp of steel; for each of the four knew that these two unions were not passing fancies, lightly entered into and as lightly cast aside, but were true partnerships which would endure throughout the entire span of life.

* * * *

A planet was located and the Skylark flew toward it. Discovering that it was apparently situated in the center of the cluster of suns, they hesitated; but finding that there was no dangerous force present, they kept on. As they drew nearer, so that the planet appeared as a very small moon, they saw that the Skylark was in a blaze of green light, and looking out of the windows, Crane counted seventeen great suns, scattered in all directions in the sky! Slowing down abruptly as the planet was approached, Seaton dropped the vessel slowly through the atmosphere, while Crane and DuQuesne tested and analyzed it.

“Pressure, thirty pounds per square inch. Surface gravity as compared to that of the Earth, two-fifths. Air-pressure about double that of the Earth, while a five-pound weight weighs only two pounds. A peculiar combination,” reported Crane, and DuQuesne added:

“Analysis about the same as our air except for two and three-tenths per cent of a gas that isn’t poisonous and which has a peculiar, fragrant odor. I can’t analyze it and think it probably an element unknown upon Earth, or at least very rare.”

“It would have to be rare if you don’t know what it is,” acknowledged Seaton, locking the Skylark in place and going over to smell the strange gas.

Deciding that the air was satisfactory, the pressure inside the vessel was slowly raised to the value of that outside and two doors were opened, to allow the new atmosphere free circulation.

Seaton shut off the power actuating the repeller and let the vessel settle slowly toward the ocean which was directly beneath them—an ocean of a deep, intense, wondrously beautiful blue, which the scientists studied with interest. Arrived at the surface, Seaton moistened a rod in a wave, and tasted it cautiously, then uttered a yell of joy—a yell broken off abruptly as he heard the sound of his own voice. Both girls started as the vibrations set up in the dense air smote upon their eardrums. Seaton moderated his voice and continued:

“I forgot about the air-pressure. But hurrah for this ocean—it’s ammoniacal copper sulphate solution! We can sure get all the copper we want, right here, but it would take weeks to evaporate the water and recover the metal. We can probably get it easier ashore. Let’s go!”

They started off just above the surface of the ocean toward the nearest continent, which they had observed from the air.

CHAPTER XIII

Nalboon of Mardonale

As the Skylark approached the shore, its occupants heard a rapid succession of heavy detonations, apparently coming from the direction in which they were traveling.

“Wonder what that racket is?” asked Seaton.

“It sounds like big guns,” said Crane, and DuQuesne nodded agreement.

“Big guns is right. They’re shooting high explosive shells, too, or I never heard any. Even allowing for the density of the air, that kind of noise isn’t made by pop-guns.”

“Let’s go see what’s doing,” and Seaton started to walk toward one of the windows with his free, swinging stride. Instantly he was a-sprawl, the effort necessary to carry his weight upon the Earth’s surface lifting him into the air in a succession of ludicrous hops, but he soon recovered himself and walked normally.

“I forgot this two-fifths gravity stuff,” he laughed. “Walk as though we had only a notch of power on and it goes all right. It sure is funny to feel so light when we’re so close to the ground.”

He closed the doors to keep out a part of the noise and advanced the speed lever a little, so that the vessel tilted sharply under the pull of the almost horizontal bar.

“Go easy,” cautioned Crane. “We do not want to get in the way of one of their shells. They may be of a different kind than those we are familiar with.”

“Right—easy it is. We’ll stay forty miles above them, if necessary.”

As the great speed of the ship rapidly lessened the distance, the sound grew heavier and clearer—like one continuous explosion. So closely did one deafening concussion follow another that the ear could not distinguish the separate reports.

“I see them,” simultaneously announced Crane, who was seated at one of the forward windows searching the country with his binoculars, and Seaton, who, from the pilot’s seat, could see in any direction.

The others hurried to the windows with their glasses and saw an astonishing sight.

“Aerial battleships, eight of ’em!” exclaimed Seaton, “as big as the Idaho. Four of ’em are about the same shape as our battleships. No wings—they act like helicopters.”

“Four of them are battleships, right enough, but what about the other four?” asked DuQuesne. “They are not ships or planes or anything else that I ever heard of.”

“They are animals,” asserted Crane. “Machines never were and never will be built like that.”

As the Skylark cautiously approached, it was evident to the watchers that four of the contestants were undoubtedly animals. Here indeed was a new kind of animal, an animal able to fight on even terms with a first-class battleship! Frightful aerial monsters they were. Each had an enormous, torpedo-shaped body, with scores of prodigiously long tentacles like those of a devil-fish and a dozen or more great, soaring wings. Even at that distance they could see the row of protruding eyes along the side of each monstrous body and the terrible, prow-like beaks tearing through the metal of the warships opposing them. They could see, by the reflection of the light from the many suns, that each monster was apparently covered by scales and joints of some transparent armor. That it was real and highly effective armor there could be no doubt, for each battleship bristled with guns of heavy caliber and each gun was vomiting forth a continuous stream of fire. Shells bursting against each of the creatures made one continuous blaze, and the uproar was indescribable—an uninterrupted cataclysm of sound appalling in its intensity.

* * * *

The battle was brief. Soon all four of the battleships had crumpled to the ground, their crews absorbed by the terrible sucking arms or devoured by the frightful beaks. They did not die in vain—three of the monsters had been blown to atoms by shells which had apparently penetrated their armor. The fourth was pursuing something, which Seaton now saw was a fleet of small airships, which had flown away from the scene of conflict. Swift as they were, the monster covered three feet to their one.

“We can’t stand for anything like that,” cried Seaton, as he threw on the power and the Skylark leaped ahead. “Get ready to bump him off, Mart, when I jerk him away. He acts hard-boiled, so give him a real one—fifty milligrams!”

Sweeping on with awful speed the monster seized the largest and most gaily decorated plane in his hundred-foot tentacles just as the Skylark came within sighting distance. In four practically simultaneous movements Seaton sighted the attractor at the ugly beak, released all its power, pointed the main bar of the Skylark directly upward, and advanced his speed lever. There was a crash of rending metal as the thing was torn loose from the plane and jerked a hundred miles into the air, struggling so savagely in that invisible and incomprehensible grip that the three-thousand-ton mass of the Skylark tossed and pitched like a child’s plaything. Those inside her heard the sharp, spiteful crack of the machine-gun, and an instant later they heard a report that paralyzed their senses, even inside the vessel and in the thin air of their enormous elevation, as the largest X-plosive bullet prepared by the inventors struck full upon the side of the hideous body. There was no smoke, no gas or vapor of any kind—only a huge volume of intolerable flame as the energy stored within the atoms of copper, instantaneously liberated, heated to incandescence and beyond all the atmosphere within a radius of hundreds of feet. The monster disappeared utterly, and Seaton, with unerring hand, reversed the bar and darted back down toward the fleet of airships. He reached them in time to focus the attractor upon the wrecked and helpless plane in the middle of its five-thousand-foot fall and lowered it gently to the ground, surrounded by the fleet.

The Skylark landed easily beside the wrecked machine, and the wanderers saw that their vessel was completely surrounded by a crowd of people—men and women identical in form and feature with themselves. They were a superbly molded race, the men fully as large as Seaton and DuQuesne; the women, while smaller than the men, were noticeably taller than the two women in the car. The men wore broad collars of metal, numerous metallic ornaments, and heavily-jeweled leather belts and shoulder-straps which were hung with weapons of peculiar patterns. The women carried no weapons, but were even more highly decorated than were the men—each slender, perfectly-formed body scintillated with the brilliance of hundreds of strange gems, flashing points of fire. Jeweled bands of metal and leather restrained their carefully-groomed hair; jeweled collars encircled their throats; jeweled belts, jeweled bracelets, jeweled anklets, each added its quota of brilliance to the glittering whole. The strangers wore no clothing, and their smooth skins shone a dark, livid, utterly indescribable color in the peculiar, unearthly, yellowish-bluish-green glare of the light. Green their skins undoubtedly were, but not any shade of green visible in the Earthly spectrum. The “whites” of their eyes were a light yellowish-green. The heavy hair of the women and the close-cropped locks of the men were green as well—a green so dark as to be almost black, as were also their eyes.

“Well, what d’you know about that?” pondered Seaton, dazedly. “They’re human, right enough, but ye gods, what a color!”

“It is hard to tell how much of that color is real, and how much of it is due to this light,” answered Crane. “Wait until you get outside, away from our daylight lamps, and you will probably look like a Chinese puzzle. As to the form, it is logical to suppose that wherever conditions are similar to those upon the Earth, and the age is anywhere nearly the same, development would be along the same lines as with us.”

“That’s right, too. Dottie, your hair will sure look gorgeous in this light. Let’s go out and give the natives a treat!”

“I wouldn’t look like that for a million dollars!” retorted Dorothy, “and if I’m going to look like that I won’t get out of the ship, so there!”

“Cheer up, Dottie, you won’t look like that. Your hair will be black in this light.”

“Then what color will mine be?” asked Margaret.

Seaton glanced at her black hair.

“Probably a very dark and beautiful green,” he grinned, his gray eyes sparkling, “but we’ll have to wait and see. Friends and fellow-countrymen, I’ve got a hunch that this is going to be SOME visit. How about it, shall we go ahead with it?”

Dorothy went up to him, her face bright with eagerness.

“Oh, what a lark! Let’s go!”

* * * *

Even in DuQuesne’s cold presence, Margaret’s eyes sought those of her lover, and his sleeve, barely touching her arm, was enough to send a dancing thrill along it.

“Onward, men of Earth!” she cried, and Seaton, stepping up to the window, rapped sharply upon the glass with the butt of his pistol and raised both hands high above his head in the universal sign of peace. In response, a man of Herculean mold, so splendidly decorated that his harness was one blazing mass of jewels, waved his arm and shouted a command. The crowd promptly fell back, leaving a clear space of several hundred yards. The man, evidently one in high command, unbuckled his harness, dropping every weapon, and advanced toward the Skylark, both arms upraised in Seaton’s gesture.

Seaton went to the door and started to open it.

“Better talk to him from inside,” cautioned Crane.

“I don’t think so, Mart. He’s peaceable, and I’ve got my gun in my pocket. Since he doesn’t know what clothes are he’ll think I’m unarmed, which is as it should be; and if he shows fight, it won’t take more than a week for me to get into action.”

“All right, go on. DuQuesne and I will come along.”

“Absolutely not. He’s alone, so I’ve got to be. I notice that some of his men are covering us, though. You might do the same for them, with a couple of the machine guns.”

Seaton stepped out of the car and went to meet the stranger. When they had approached to within a few feet of each other the stranger stopped. He flexed his left arm smartly, so that the finger-tips touched his left ear, and smiled broadly, exposing a row of splendid, shining, green teeth. Then he spoke, a meaningless jumble of sounds. His voice, though light and thin, nevertheless seemed to be of powerful timbre.

Seaton smiled in return and saluted.

“Hello, Chief. I get your idea all right, and we’re glad you’re peaceable, but your language doesn’t mean a thing in my young life.”

The Chief tapped himself upon the chest, saying distinctly and impressively:

“Nalboon.”

“Nalboon,” repeated Seaton, and added, pointing to himself:

“Seaton.”

“See Tin,” answered the stranger, and again indicating himself, “Domak gok Mardonale.”

“That must be his title,” thought Seaton rapidly. “Have to give myself one, I guess.”

“Boss of the Road,” he replied, drawing himself up with pride.

The introduction made, Nalboon pointed to the wrecked plane, inclined his head in thanks, and turned to his people with one arm upraised, shouting an order in which Seaton could distinguish something that sounded like “See Tin, Bass uvvy Rood.” Instantly every right arm in the assemblage was aloft, that of each man bearing a weapon, while the left arms snapped into the peculiar salute and a mighty cry arose as all repeated the name and title of the distinguished visitor.

Seaton turned to the Skylark, motioning to Crane to open the door.

“Bring out one of those big four-color signal rockets, Mart!” he called. “They’re giving us a royal reception—let’s acknowledge it right.”

* * * *

The party appeared, Crane carrying the huge rocket with an air of deference. As they approached, Seaton shrugged one shoulder and his cigarette-case appeared in his hand. Nalboon started, and in spite of his utmost efforts at self-control, he glanced at it in surprise. The case flew open and Seaton, taking a cigarette, extended the case.

“Smoke?” he asked affably. The other took one, but showed plainly that he had no idea of the use to which it was to be put. This astonishment of the stranger at a simple sleight-of-hand feat and his apparent ignorance of tobacco emboldened Seaton. Reaching into his mouth, he pulled out a flaming match, at which Nalboon started violently. While all the natives watched in amazement, Seaton lighted the cigarette, and after half consuming it in two long inhalations, he apparently swallowed the remainder, only to bring it to light again. Having smoked it, he apparently swallowed the butt, with evident relish.

“They don’t know anything about matches or smoking,” he said, turning to Crane. “This rocket will tie them up in a knot. Step back, everybody.”

He bowed deeply to Nalboon, pulling a lighted match from his ear as he did so, and lighted the fuse. There was a roar, a shower of sparks, a blaze of colored fire as the great rocket flew upward; but to Seaton’s surprise, Nalboon took it quite as a matter of course, saluting as an acknowledgment of the courtesy.

Seaton motioned to his party to approach, and turned to Crane.

“Better not, Dick. Let him think that you are the king of everything in sight.”

“Not on your life. If he is one king, we are two,” and he introduced Crane, with great ceremony, to the Domak as the “Boss of the Skylark,” at which the salute by his people was repeated.

Nalboon then shouted an order and a company of soldiers led by an officer came toward them, surrounding a small group of people, apparently prisoners. These captives, seven men and seven women, were much lighter in color than the rest of the gathering, having skins of a ghastly, pale shade, practically the same color as the whites of their eyes. In other bodily aspects they were the same as their captors in appearance, save that they were entirely naked except for the jeweled metal collars worn by all and a massive metal belt worn by one man. They walked with a proud and lofty carriage, scorn for their captors in every step.

Nalboon barked an order to the prisoners. They stared in defiance, motionless, until the man wearing the belt who had studied Seaton closely, spoke a few words in a low tone, when they all prostrated themselves. Nalboon then waved his hand, giving the whole group to Seaton as slaves. Seaton, with no sign of his surprise, thanked the giver and motioned his slaves to rise. They obeyed and placed themselves behind the party—two men and two women behind Seaton and the same number behind Crane; one man and one woman behind each of the others.

Seaton then tried to make Nalboon understand that they wanted copper, pointing to his anklet, the only copper in sight. The chief instantly removed the trinket and handed it to Seaton; who, knowing by the gasp of surprise of the guard that it was some powerful symbol, returned it with profuse apologies. After trying in vain to make the other understand what he wanted, he led him into the Skylark and showed him the remnant of the power-bar. He showed him its original size and indicated the desired number by counting to sixteen upon his fingers. Nalboon nodded his comprehension and going outside, pointed upward toward the largest of the eleven suns visible, motioning its rising and setting, four times.

He then invited the visitors, in unmistakable sign language, to accompany him as guests of honor, but Seaton refused.

“Lead on, MacDuff, we follow,” he replied, explaining his meaning by signs as they turned to enter the vessel. The slaves followed closely until Crane remonstrated.

“We don’t want them aboard, do we, Dick? There are too many of them.”

“All right,” Seaton replied, and waved them away. As they stepped back the guard seized the nearest, a woman, and forced her to her knees; while a man, adorned with a necklace of green human teeth and carrying a shining broadsword, prepared to decapitate her.

“We must take them with us, I see,” said Crane, as he brushed the guards aside. Followed by the slaves, the party entered the Skylark, and the dark green people embarked in their airplanes and helicopters.

Nalboon rode in a large and gaily-decorated plane, which led the fleet at its full speed of six hundred miles an hour, the Skylark taking a placing a few hundred yards above the flagship.

“I don’t get these folks at all, Mart,” said Seaton, after a moment’s silence. “They have machines far ahead of anything we have on Earth and big guns that shoot as fast as machine-guns, and yet are scared to death at a little simple sleight-of-hand. They don’t seem to understand matches at all, and yet treat fire-works as an every-day occurrence.”

“We will have to wait until we know them better,” replied Crane, and DuQuesne added:

“From what I have seen, their power seems to be all electrical. Perhaps they aren’t up with us in chemistry, even though they are ahead of us in mechanics?”

* * * *

Flying above a broad, but rapid and turbulent stream, the fleet soon neared a large city, and the visitors from Earth gazed with interest at this metropolis of the unknown world. The buildings were all the same height, flat-roofed, and arranged in squares very much as our cities are arranged. There were no streets, the spaces between the buildings being park-like areas, evidently laid out for recreation, amusement, and sport. There was no need for streets; all traffic was in the air. The air seemed full of flying vehicles, darting in all directions, but it was soon evident that there was exact order in the apparent confusion, each class of vessel and each direction of traffic having its own level. Eagerly the three men studied the craft, which ranged in size from one-man helicopters, little more than single chairs flying about in the air, up to tremendous multiplane freighters, capable of carrying thousands of tons.

Flying high over the city to avoid its congested air-lanes, the fleet descended toward an immense building just outside the city proper, and all landed upon its roof save the flagship, which led the Skylark to a landing-dock nearby—a massive pile of metal and stone, upon which Nalboon and his retinue stood to welcome the guests. After Seaton had anchored the vessel immovably by means of the attractor, the party disembarked, Seaton remarking with a grin:

“Don’t be surprised at anything I do, folks. I’m a walking storehouse of junk of all kinds, so that if occasion arises I can put on a real exhibition.”

As they turned toward their host, a soldier, in his eagerness to see the strangers, jostled another. Without a word two keen swords flew from their scabbards and a duel to the death ensued. The visitors stared in amazement, but no one else paid any attention to the combat, which was soon over; the victor turning away from the body of his opponent and resuming his place without creating a ripple of interest.

Nalboon led the way into an elevator, which dropped rapidly to the ground-floor level. Massive gates were thrown open, and through ranks of people prostrate upon their faces the party went out into the palace grounds of the Domak, or Emperor, of the great nation of Mardonale.

Never before had Earthly eyes rested upon such scenes of splendor. Every color and gradation of their peculiar spectrum was present, in solid, liquid, and gas. The carefully-tended trees were all colors of the rainbow, as were the grasses and flowers along the walks. The fountains played streams of many and constantly-changing hues, and even the air was tinted and perfumed, swirling through metal arches in billows of ever-varying colors and scents. Colors and combinations of colors impossible to describe were upon every hand, fantastically beautiful in that peculiar, livid light. Diamonds and rubies, their colors so distorted by the green radiance as to be almost unrecognizable; emeralds glowing with an intense green impossible in earthly light, together with strange gems peculiar to this strange world, sparkled and flashed from railings, statues, and pedestals throughout the ground.

“Isn’t this gorgeous, Dick?” whispered Dorothy. “But what do I look like? I wish I had a mirror—you look simply awful. Do I look like you do?”

“Not being able to see myself, I can’t say, but I imagine you do. You look as you would under a county-fair photographer’s mercury-vapor arc lamps, only worse. The colors can’t be described. You might as well try to describe cerise to a man born blind as to try to express these colors in English, but as near as I can come to it, your eyes are a dark sort of purplish green, with the whites of your eyes and your teeth a kind of plush green. Your skin is a pale yellowish green, except for the pink of your cheeks, which is a kind of black, with orange and green mixed up in it. Your lips are black, and your hair is a funny kind of color, halfway between black and old rose, with a little green and.…”

“Heavens, Dick, stop! That’s enough!” choked Dorothy. “We all look like hobgoblins. We’re even worse than the natives.”

“Sure we are. They were born here and are acclimated to it—we are strangers and aren’t. I would like to see what one of these people would look like in Washington.”

* * * *

Nalboon led them into the palace proper and into a great dining hall, where a table was already prepared for the entire party. This room was splendidly decorated with jewels, its many windows being simply masses of gems. The walls were hung with a cloth resembling silk, which fell to the floor in shimmering waves of color.

Woodwork there was none. Doors, panels, tables, and chairs were cunningly wrought of various metals. Seaton and DuQuesne could recognize a few of them, but for the most part they were unknown upon the Earth; and were, like the jewels and vegetation of this strange world, of many and various peculiar colors. A closer inspection of one of the marvelous tapestries showed that it also was of metal, its threads numbering thousands to the inch. Woven of many different metals, of vivid but harmonious colors in a strange and intricate design, it seemed to writhe as its colors changed with every variation in the color of the light; which, pouring from concealed sources, was reflected by the highly-polished metal and innumerable jewels of the lofty, domed ceiling.

“Oh…isn’t this too perfectly gorgeous?” breathed Dorothy. “I’d give anything for a dress made out of that stuff, Dick. Cloth-of-gold is common by comparison!”

“Would you dare wear it, Dottie?” asked Margaret.

“Would I? I’d wear it in a minute if I could only get it. It would take Washington by storm!”

“I’ll try to get a piece of it, then,” smiled Seaton. “I’ll see about it while we are getting the copper.”

“We’d better be careful in choosing what we eat here, Seaton,” suggested DuQuesne, as the Domak himself led them to the table.

“We sure had. With a copper ocean and green teeth, I shouldn’t be surprised if copper, arsenic, and other such trifles formed a regular part of their diet.”

“The girls and I will wait for you two chemists to approve every dish before we try it, then,” said Crane.

Nalboon placed his guests, the light-skinned slaves standing at attention behind them, and numerous servants, carrying great trays, appeared. The servants were intermediate in color between the light and the dark races, with dull, unintelligent faces, but quick and deft in their movements.

The first course—a thin, light wine, served in metal goblets—was approved by the chemists, and the dinner was brought on. There were mighty joints of various kinds of meat; birds and fish, both raw and cooked in many ways; green, pink, purple, and white vegetables and fruits. The majordomo held each dish up to Seaton for inspection, the latter waving away the fish and the darkest green foods, but approving the others. Heaping plates, or rather metal trays, of food were placed before the diners, and the attendants behind their chairs handed them peculiar implements—knives with razor edges, needle-pointed stilettoes instead of forks, and wide, flexible spatulas, which evidently were to serve the purposes of both forks and spoons.

“I simply can’t eat with these things!” exclaimed Dorothy in dismay, “and I don’t like to drink soup out of a can, so there!”

“That’s where my lumberjack training comes in handy,” grinned Seaton. “With this spatula I can eat faster than I could with two forks. What do you want, girls, forks or spoons, or both?”

“Both, please.”

Seaton reached out over the table, seizing forks and spoons from the air and passing them to the others, while the natives stared in surprise. The Domak took a bowl filled with brilliant blue crystals from the major-domo, sprinkled his food liberally with the substance, and passed it to Seaton, who looked at the crystals attentively.

“Copper sulphate,” he said to Crane. “It’s a good thing they add it at the table instead of cooking with it, or we’d be out of luck.”

Waving the copper sulphate away, he again reached out, this time producing a pair of small salt-and pepper-shakers, which he passed to the Domak after he had seasoned the dishes before him. Nalboon tasted the pepper cautiously and smiled in delight, half-emptying the shaker upon his plate. He then sprinkled a few grains of salt into his palm, stared at them with an expression of doubting amazement, and after a few rapid sentences poured them into a dish held by an officer who had sprung to his side. The officer studied them closely, then carefully washed his chief’s hand. Nalboon turned to Seaton, plainly asking for the salt-cellar.

“Sure, old top. Keep ’em both, there’s lots more where those came from,” as he produced several more sets in the same mysterious way and handed them to Crane, who in turn passed them to the others.

* * * *

The meal progressed merrily, with much conversation in the sign-language between the two parties. It was evident that Nalboon, usually stern and reticent, was in an unusually pleasant mood. The viands, though of peculiar flavor, were in the main pleasing to the palates of the Earthly visitors.

“This fruit salad, or whatever it is, is divine,” remarked Dorothy, after an experimental bite. “May we eat as much as we like, or had we better just eat a little?”

“Go as far as you like,” returned her lover. “I wouldn’t recommend it, as a steady diet, as I imagine everything contains copper and other heavy metals in noticeable amounts, and probably considerable arsenic, but for a few days it can’t very well hurt us much.”

After the meal, Nalboon bade them a ceremonious farewell, and they were escorted to a series of five connecting rooms by the royal usher, escorted by an entire company of soldiers, who mounted guard outside the doors. Gathered in one room, they discussed sleeping arrangements. The girls insisted that they would sleep together, and that the men should occupy the rooms at either side. As the girls turned away, the four slaves followed.

“We don’t want these people, and I can’t make them go away!” cried Dorothy.

“I don’t want them, either,” replied Seaton, “but if we chase them out they’ll get their heads chopped off. You girls take the women and we’ll take the men.”

Seaton waved all the women into the girls’ room, but they paused irresolutely. One of them went up to the man wearing the metal belt, evidently their leader, and spoke to him rapidly as she threw her arms around his neck. He shook his head, motioning toward Seaton several times as he spoke to her reassuringly. With his arm about her tenderly, he led her to the door, the other women following. Crane and DuQuesne having gone to their rooms with their attendants, the man wearing the belt drew the blinds and turned to assist Seaton in taking off his clothes.

“I never had a valet before, but go as far as you like if it pleases you,” remarked Seaton, as he began to throw off his clothes. A multitude of small articles fell from their hiding-places in his garments as he removed them. Almost stripped, Seaton stretched vigorously, the muscles writhing and rippling in great ridges under the satin skin of his broad back and mighty arms and shoulders as he filled his capacious lungs and twisted about, working off the stiffness caused by the days of comparative confinement.

The four slaves stared in open-mouthed astonishment at this display of muscular development and conversed among themselves as they gathered up Seaton’s discarded clothing. Their leader picked up a salt-shaker, a couple of silver knives and forks, and some other articles, and turned to Seaton, apparently asking permission to do something with them. Seaton nodded assent carelessly and turned to his bed. As he did so, he heard a slight clank of arms in the hall as the guard was changed, and lifting the blind a trifle he saw that guards were stationed outside as well. As he went to bed, he wondered whether the guards were guards of honor or jailers; whether he and his party were honored guests or prisoners.

Three of the slaves, at a word from their chief, threw themselves upon the floor and slept, but he himself did not rest. Opening the apparently solid metal belt, he took out a great number of small tools, many tiny instruments, and several spools of insulated wire. He then took the articles Seaton had given him, taking great pains not to spill a single grain of salt, and set to work. Hour after hour he labored, a strange, exceedingly complex instrument taking form under his clever fingers.

CHAPTER XIV.

Nalboon Unmasked

By the time you finish reading the final instalment of “The Skylark of Space,” we are certain that you will agree with us that it is one of the outstanding scienti-fiction stories of the decade; an interplanetarian story that will not be eclipsed soon. It will be referred to by all scienti-fiction fans for years to come. It will be read and reread. This is not a mere prophecy of ours, because we have been deluged with letters since we began publishing this story. In the closing chapters, you will follow the adventures with bated breath, and you will find that though the two preceding instalments were hair-raising and thought absorbing, the final instalment eclipses the others a good deal. Plots, counterplots, hair-raising and hair-breadth escapes, mixed with love, adventure and good science seem to fairly tumble all over the pages. By the time you finish this instalment, you will wish to go back to the beginning of the story and read it more carefully and thrill all over again.

After a long, sound sleep, Seaton awoke and sprang out of bed. No sooner had he started to shave, however, than one of the slaves touched his arm, motioning him into a reclining chair and showing him a keen blade, long and slightly curved. Seaton lay down and the slave shaved him with a rapidity and smoothness he had never before experienced, so wonderfully sharp was the peculiar razor. After Seaton had dressed, the barber started to shave the chief slave, without any preliminary treatment save rubbing his face with a perfumed oil.

“Hold on a minute,” interjected Seaton, who was watching the process with interest, “here’s something that helps a lot.” He lathered the face with his brush and the man looked up in surprised pleasure as his stiff beard was swept away without a sound.

Seaton called to the others and soon the party was assembled in his room, all dressed very lightly, because of the unrelieved and unvarying heat, which was constant at one hundred degrees. A gong sounded, and one of the slaves opened the door, ushering in a party of servants bearing a table, ready set. During the meal, Seaton was greatly surprised at hearing Dorothy carrying on a halting conversation, with one of the women standing behind her.

“I knew that you were a language shark, Dottie, with five or six different ones to your credit, but I didn’t suppose you could learn to talk this stuff in one day.”

“I can’t,” she replied, “but I’ve picked up a few words of it. I can understand very little of what they are trying to tell me.”

The woman spoke rapidly to the man standing behind Seaton, and as soon as the table had been carried away, he asked permission to speak to Dorothy. Fairly running across to her, he made a slight obeisance and in eager tones poured forth such a stream of language that she held up her hand to silence him.

“Go slower, please,” she said, and added a couple of words in his own tongue.

There ensued a strange dialogue, with many repetitions and much use of signs. She turned to Seaton, with a puzzled look.

“I can’t make out all he says, Dick, but he wants you to take him into another room of the palace here, to get back something or other that they took from him when they captured him. He can’t go alone—I think he says he will be killed if he goes anywhere without you. And he says that when you get there, you must be sure not to let the guards come inside.”

“All right, let’s go!” and Seaton motioned the man to precede him. As Seaton started for the door, Dorothy fell into step beside him.

“Better stay back, Dottie, I’ll be back in a minute,” he said at the door.

“I will not stay back. Wherever you go, I go,” she replied in a voice inaudible to the others. “I simply will not stay away from you a single minute that I don’t have to.”

“All right, little girl,” he replied in the same tone. “I don’t want to be away from you, either, and I don’t think that we’re in any danger here.”

Preceded by the chief slave and followed by half a dozen others, they went out into the hall. No opposition was made to their progress, but a full half-company of armed guards fell in around them as an escort, regarding Seaton with looks composed of equal parts of reverence and fear. The slave led the way rapidly to a room in a distant wing of the palace and opened the door. As Seaton stepped in, he saw that it was evidently an audience-chamber or court-room, and that it was now entirely empty. As the guard approached the door, Seaton waved them back. All retreated across the hall except the officer in charge, who refused to move. Seaton, the personification of offended dignity, first stared at the offender, who returned the stare, and stepped up to him insolently, then pushed him back roughly, forgetting that his strength, great upon Earth, would be gigantic upon this smaller world. The officer spun across the corridor, knocking down three of his men in his flight. Picking himself up, he drew his sword and rushed, while his men fled in panic to the extreme end of the corridor. Seaton did not wait for him, but in one bound leaped half-way across the intervening space to meet him. With the vastly superior agility of his earthly muscles he dodged the falling broadsword and drove his left fist full against the fellow’s chin, with all the force of his mighty arm and all the momentum of his rapidly moving body behind the blow. The crack of breaking bones was distinctly audible as the officer’s head snapped back. The force of the blow lifted him high into the air, and after turning a complete somersault, he brought up with a crash against the opposite wall, dropping to the floor stone dead. As several of his men, braver than the others, lifted their peculiar rifles, Seaton drew and fired in one incredibly swift motion, the X-plosive bullet obliterating the entire group of men and demolishing that end of the palace.

* * * *

In the meantime the slave had taken several pieces of apparatus from a cabinet in the room and had placed them in his belt. Stopping only to observe for a few moments a small instrument which he clamped upon the head of the dead man, he rapidly led the way back to the room they had left and set to work upon the instrument he had constructed while the others had been asleep. He connected it, in an intricate system of wiring, with the pieces of apparatus he had just recovered.

“That’s a complex job of wiring,” said DuQuesne admiringly. “I’ve seen several intricate pieces of apparatus myself, but he has so many circuits there that I’m lost. It would take an hour to figure out the lines and connections alone.”

Straightening abruptly, the slave clamped several electrodes upon his temples and motioned to Seaton and the others, speaking to Dorothy as he did so.

“He wants us to let him put those things on our heads,” she translated. “Shall we let him, Dick?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. “I’ve got a real hunch that he’s our friend, and I’m not sure of Nalboon. He doesn’t act right.”

“I think so, too,” agreed the girl, and Crane added:

“I can’t say that I relish the idea, but since I know that you are a good poker player, Dick, I am willing to follow your hunch. How about you, DuQuesne?”

“Not I,” declared that worthy, emphatically. “Nobody wires me up to anything I can’t understand, and that machine is too deep for me.”

Margaret elected to follow Crane’s example, and, impressed by the need for haste evident in the slave’s bearing, the four walked up to the machine without further talk. The electrodes were clamped into place quickly and the slave pressed a lever. Instantly the four visitors felt that they had a complete understanding of the languages and customs of both Mardonale, the nation in which they now were, and of Kondal, to which nation the slaves belonged, the only two civilized nations upon Osnome. While the look of amazement at this method of receiving instruction was still upon their faces, the slave—or rather, as they now knew him, Dunark, the Kofedix or Crown Prince of the great nation of Kondal—began to disconnect the wires. He cut out the wires leading to the two girls and to Crane, and was reaching for Seaton’s, when there was a blinding flash, a crackling sound, the heavy smoke of burning metal and insulation, and both Dunark and Seaton fell to the floor.

Before Crane could reach them, however, they were upon their feet and the stranger said in his own tongue, now understood by every one but DuQuesne:

“This machine is a mechanical educator, a thing entirely new, in our world at least. Although I have been working on it for a long time, it is still in a very crude form. I did not like to use it in its present state of development, but it was necessary in order to warn you of what Nalboon is going to do to you, and to convince you that the best way of saving your lives would save our lives as well. The machine worked perfectly until something, I don’t know what, went wrong. Instead of stopping, as it should have done, at teaching your party to speak our languages, it short-circuited us two completely, so that every convolution in each of our brains has been imprinted upon the brain of the other. It was the sudden formation of all the new convolutions that rendered us unconscious. I can only apologize for the break-down, and assure you that my intentions were of the best.”

“You needn’t apologize,” returned Seaton. “That was a wonderful performance, and we’re both gainers, anyway, aren’t we? It has taken us all our lives to learn what little we know, and now we each have the benefit of two lifetimes, spent upon different worlds! I must admit, though, that I have a whole lot of knowledge that I don’t know how to use.”

“I am glad you take it that way,” returned the other warmly, “for I am infinitely the better off for the exchange. The knowledge I imparted was nothing, compared to that which I received. But time presses—I must tell you our situation. I am, as you now know, the Kofedix of Kondal. The other thirteen are fedo and fediro, or, as you would say, princes and princesses of the same nation. We were captured by one of Nalboon’s raiding parties while upon a hunting trip, being overcome by some new, stupefying gas, so that we could not kill ourselves. As you know, Kondal and Mardonale have been at war for over ten thousand karkamo—something more than six thousand years of your time. The war between us is one of utter extermination. Captives are never exchanged and only once during an ordinary lifetime does one ever escape. Our attendants were killed immediately. We were being taken to furnish sport for Nalboon’s party by being fed to one of his captive kolono—animals something like your earthly devilfish—when the escort of battleships was overcome by those four karlono, the animals you saw, and one of them seized Nalboon’s plane, in which we were prisoners. You killed the karlon, saving our lives as well as those of Nalboon and his party.

* * * *

“Having saved his life, you and your party should be honored guests of the most honored kind, and I venture to say that you would be so regarded in any other nation of the universe. But Nalboon, the Domak—a title equivalent to your word ‘Emperor’ and our word ‘Karfedix’—of Mardonale, is utterly without either honor or conscience, as are all Mardonalians. At first he was afraid of you, as were we all. We thought you visitors from a planet of our fifteenth sun, which is now at its nearest possible approach to us. After your display of superhuman power and ability, we expected instant annihilation. However, after seeing the Skylark as a machine, discovering that you are short of power, and finding that you are gentle instead of bloodthirsty by nature, Nalboon lost his fear of you and resolved to rob you of your vessel, with its wonderful secrets of power. Though we are so ignorant of chemistry that I cannot understand the thousandth part of what I just learned from you, we are a race of mechanics and have developed machines of many kinds to a high state of efficiency, including electrical machines of all kinds. In fact, electricity, generated by our great waterfalls, is our only power. No scientist upon Osnome has ever had an inkling that intra-atomic energy exists. Nalboon cannot understand the power, but he solved the means of liberating it at a glance—and that glance sealed your death-warrants. With the Skylark, he could conquer Kondal, and to assure the downfall of my nation he would do anything.

“Also, he or any other Osnomian scientist would go to any lengths whatever—would challenge the great First Cause itself—to secure even one of those little bottles of the chemical you call ‘salt.’ It is far and away the scarcest and most precious substance in the world. It is so rare that those bottles you produced at the table held more than the total amount previously known to exist upon Osnome. We have great abundance of all the heavy metals, but the lighter metals are rare. Sodium and chlorin are the rarest of all known elements. Its immense value is due, not to its rarity, but to the fact that it is an indispensable component of the controlling instruments of our wireless power stations and that it is used as a catalyst in the manufacture of our hardest metals.

“For these reasons, you understand why Nalboon does not intend to let you escape and why he intends that this kokam (our equivalent of a day) shall be your last. About the second or third kam (hour) of the sleeping period he intends to break into the Skylark, learn its control, and secure the salt you undoubtedly have in the vessel. Then my party and myself will be thrown to the kolon. You and your party will be killed and your bodies smelted to recover the salt that is in them. This is the warning I had to give you. Its urgency explains the use of my untried mechanical educator; the hope that my party could escape with yours, in your vessel, explains why you saw me, the Kofedix of Kondal, prostrate myself before that arch-fiend Nalboon.”

“How do you, a captive prince of another nation, know these things?” asked Crane, doubtfully.

“I read Nalboon’s ideas from the brain of that officer whom the Karfedix Seaton killed. He was a ladex of the guards—an officer of about the same rank as one of your colonels. He was high in Nalboon’s favor, and he was to have been in charge of the work of breaking into the Skylark and killing us all. Let me caution you now; do not let any Mardonalian touch our hands with a wire, for if you do, your thoughts will be recorded and the secrets of the Skylark and your many other mysterious things, such as smoking, matches, and magic feats, will be secrets no longer.”

“Thanks for the information,” responded Seaton, “but I want to correct your title for me. I’m no Karfedix—merely a plain citizen.”

“In one way I see that that is true,” replied the Kofedix with a puzzled look. “I cannot understand your government at all—but the inventor of the Skylark must certainly rank as a Karfedix.”

As he spoke, a smile of understanding passed over his face and he continued:

“I see. Your title is Doctor of Philosophy, which must mean that you are the Karfedix of Knowledge of the Earth.”

“No, no. You’re way off. I’m.…”

“Certainly Seaton is the Karfedix of Knowledge,” broke in DuQuesne. “Let it go at that, anyway, whatever it means. The thing to do now is to figure a way out of this.”

“You chirped it then, Blackie. Dunark, you know this country better than we do; what do you suggest?”

“I suggest that you take my party into the Skylark and escape from Mardonale as soon as possible. I can pilot you to Kondalek, the capital city of our nation. There, I can assure you, you will be welcomed as you deserve. My father, the Karfedix, will treat you as a Karfedix should be treated. As far as I am concerned, nothing I can ever do will lighten the burden of my indebtedness to you, but I promise you all the copper you want, and anything else you may desire that is within the power of man to give you.”

* * * *

Seaton thought deeply a moment, then shook Dunark’s hand vigorously.

“That suits me, Kofedix,” he said warmly. “I thought from the first that you were our friend. Shall we make for the Skylark right now, or wait a while?”

“We had better wait until after the second meal,” the prince replied. “We have no armor, and no way of making any. We would be helpless against the bullets of any except a group small enough so that you could kill them all before they could fire. The kam after the second meal is devoted to strolling about the grounds, so that our visiting the Skylark would look perfectly natural. As the guard is very lax at that time, it is the best time for the attempt.”

“But how about my killing his company of guards and blowing up one wing of his palace? Won’t he have something to say about that?”

“I don’t know,” replied the Kofedix doubtfully. “It depends upon whether his fear of you or his anger is the greater. He should pay his call of state here in your apartment in a short time, as it is the inviolable rule of Osnome, that any visitor shall receive a call of state from one of his own rank before leaving his apartment for the first time. His actions may give you some idea as to his feelings, though he is an accomplished diplomat and may conceal his real feelings entirely. But let me caution you not to be modest or soft-spoken. He will mistake softness for fear.”

“All right,” grinned Seaton. “In that case I won’t wait to try to find out what he thinks. If he shows any signs of hostility at all, I’ll open up on him.”

“Well,” remarked Crane, calmly, “if we have some time to spare, we may as well wait comfortably instead of standing in the middle of the room. I, for one, have a lot of questions to ask about this new world.”

Acting upon this suggestion, the party seated themselves upon comfortable divans, and Dunark rapidly dismantled the machine he had constructed. The captives remained standing, always behind the visitors until Seaton remonstrated.

“Please sit down, everybody. There’s no need of keeping up this farce of your being slaves as long as we’re alone, is there, Dunark?”

“No, but at the first sound of the gong announcing a visitor we must be in our places. Now that we are all comfortable and waiting, I will introduce my party to yours.

“Fellow Kondalians, greet the Karfedo Seaton and Crane,” he began, his tongue fumbling over the strange names, “of a distant world, the Earth, and the two noble ladies, Miss Vaneman and Miss Spencer, soon to be their Karfediro.

“Guests from Earth, allow me to present to you the Kofedir Sitar, the only one of my wives who accompanied me upon our ill-fated hunting expedition.”

Then, still ignoring DuQuesne as a captive, he introduced the other Kondolians in turn as his brothers, sisters, cousins, nieces, and nephews—all members of the great ruling house of Kondal.

“Now,” he concluded, “after I have a word with you in private, Doctor Seaton, I will be glad to give the others all the information in my power.”

He led Seaton out of earshot of the others and said in a low voice:

“It is no part of Nalboon’s plan to kill the two women. They are so beautiful, so different from our Osnomian women, that he intends to keep them—alive. Understand?”

“Yes,” returned Seaton grimly, his eyes turning hard, “I get you all right—but what he’ll do and what he thinks he’ll do are two entirely different breeds of cats.”

Returning to the others, they found Dorothy and Sitar deep in conversation.

“So a man has half a dozen or so wives?” Dorothy was asking in surprise. “How do you get along together? I’d fight like a wildcat if my husband tried to have other wives!”

“We get along splendidly, of course,” returned the Osnomian princess in equal surprise. “I would not think of being a man’s only wife. I wouldn’t consider marrying a man who could win only one wife—think what a disgrace it would be! And think how lonely one would be while her husband is away at war—we would go insane if we did not have the company of the other wives. There are six of us, and we could not get along at all without each other.”

“I’ve got a compliment for you and Peggy, Dottie,” said Seaton. “Dunark here thinks that you two girls look good enough to eat—or words to that effect.” Both girls flushed slightly, the purplish-black color suffusing their faces. They glanced at each other and Dorothy voiced the thought of both as she said:

“How can you, Kofedix Dunark? In this horrible light we both look perfectly dreadful. These other girls would be beautiful, if we were used to the colors, but we two look simply hideous.”

“Oh, no,” interrupted Sitar. “You have a wonderfully rich coloring. It is a shame to hide so much of yourselves with robes.”

“Their eyes interpret colors differently than ours do,” explained Seaton. “What to us are harsh and discordant colors are light and pleasing to their eyes. What looks like a kind of sloppy greenish black to us may—in fact, does—look a pale pink to them.”

“Are Kondal and Mardonale the only two nations upon Osnome?” asked Crane.

“The only civilized nations, yes. Osnome is divided into two great and almost equal continents, separated by a wide ocean which encircles the globe. One is Kondal, the other Mardonale. Each nation has several nations or tribes of savages, which inhabit various waste places.”

* * * *

“You are the light race, Mardonale the dark,” continued Crane. “What are the servants, who seem half-way between?”

“They are slaves.…”

“Captured savages?” interrupted Dorothy.

“No. They are a separate race. They are a race so low in intelligence that they cannot exist except as slaves, but they can be trained to understand language and to do certain kinds of work. They are harmless and mild, making excellent servants, otherwise they would have perished ages ago. All menial work and most of the manual labor is done by the slave race. Formerly criminals were sterilized and reduced to unwilling slavery, but there have been no unwilling slaves in Kondal for hundreds of karkamo.”

“Why? Are there no criminals any more?”

“No. With the invention of the thought recorder an absolutely fair trial was assured and the guilty were all convicted. They could not reproduce themselves, and as a natural result crime died out.”

“That is,” he added hastily, “what we regard as crime. Duelling, for instance, is a crime upon Earth; here it is a regular custom. In Kondal duels are rather rare and are held only when honor is involved, but here in Mardonale they are an every-day affair, as you saw when you landed.”

“What makes the difference?” asked Dorothy curiously.

“As you know, with us every man is a soldier. In Kondal we train our youth in courage, valor, and high honor—in Mardonale they train them in savage blood-thirstiness alone. Each nation fixed its policy in bygone ages to produce the type of soldier it thought most efficient.”

“I notice that everyone here wears those heavy collars,” said Margaret. “What are they for?”

“They are identification marks. When a child is nearly grown, a collar bearing his name and the device of his house is cast about his neck. This collar is made of ‘arenak,’ a synthetic metal which, once formed, cannot be altered by any usual means. It cannot be scratched, cut, bent, broken, or worked in any way except at such a high temperature that death would result, if such heat were applied to the collar. Once the arenak collar is cast about a person’s neck he is identified for life, and any adult Osnomian not wearing a collar is put to death.”

“That must be an interesting metal,” remarked Crane. “Is your belt a similar mark?”

“This belt is an idea of my own,” and Dunark smiled broadly. “It looks like opaque arenak, but isn’t. It is merely a pouch in which I carry anything I am particularly interested in. Even Nalboon thought it was arenak, so he didn’t trouble to try to open it. If he had opened it and taken my tools and instruments, I couldn’t have built the educator.”

“Is that transparent armor arenak?”

“Yes, the only difference being that nothing is added to the matrix to color or make opaque the finished metal. It is in the preparation of this metal that salt is indispensable. It acts only as a catalyst, being recovered afterward, but neither nation has ever had enough salt to make all the armor they want.”

“Aren’t those monsters—karlono, I think you called them—covered by the same thing? And what are those animals, anyway?” Dorothy asked.

“Yes, they are armored with arenak, and it is thought that the beasts grow it, the same as fishes grow scales. The karlono are the most frightful scourge of Osnome. Very little is known of them, though every scientist has theorized upon them since time immemorial. It is very seldom that one is ever killed, as they easily outfly our swiftest battleships, and only fight when they can be victorious. To kill one requires a succession of the heaviest high-explosive shells in the same spot, a joint in the armor; and after the armor is once penetrated, the animal is blown into such small fragments that reconstruction is impossible. From such remains it has been variously described as a bird, a beast, a fish, and a vegetable; sexual, asexual, and hermaphroditic. Its habitat is unknown, it being variously supposed to live high in the air, deep in the ocean, and buried in the swamps. Another theory is that they live upon one of our satellites, which encounters our belt of atmosphere every karkam. Nothing is certainly known about the monsters except their terrible destructiveness and their insatiable appetites. One of them will devour five or six airships at one time, absorbing the crews and devouring the cargo and all of the vessels except the very hardest of the metal parts.”

“Do they usually go in groups?” asked Crane. “If they do, I should think that a fleet of warships would be necessary for every party.”

“No, they are almost always found alone. Only very rarely are two found together. This is the first time in history that more than two have ever been seen together. Two battleships can always defeat one karlon, so they are never attacked. With four battleships Nalboon considered his expedition perfectly safe, especially as they are now rare. The navies hunted down and killed what was supposed to be the last one upon Osnome more than a karkam ago, and none have been seen since, until we were attacked.…”

* * * *

The gong over the door sounded and the Kondalians leaped to their positions back of the Earthly visitors. The Kofedix went to the door. Nalboon brushed him aside and entered, escorted by a full company of heavily-armed soldiery. A scowl of anger was upon his face and he was plainly in an ugly mood.

“Stop, Nalboon of Mardonale!” thundered Seaton in the Mardonalian tongue and with the full power of his mighty voice. “Dare you invade my privacy unannounced and without invitation?”

The escort shrank back, but the Domak stood his ground, although he was plainly taken aback. With an apparent effort he smoothed his face into lines of cordiality.

“I merely came to inquire why my guards are slain and my palace destroyed by my honored guest?”

“As for slaying your guards, they sought to invade my privacy. I warned them away, but one of them was foolish enough to try to kill me. Then the others attempted to raise their childish rifles against me, and I was obliged to destroy them. As for the wall, it happened to be in the way of the thought-waves I hurled against your guards—consequently it was demolished. An honored guest! Bah! Are honored guests put to the indignity of being touched by the filthy hands of a mere ladex?”

“You do not object to the touch of slaves!” with a wave of his hand toward the Kondalians.

“That is what slaves are for,” coldly. “Is a Domak to wait upon himself in the court of Mardonale? But to return to the issue. Were I an honored guest this would never have happened. Know, Nalboon, that when you attempt to treat a visiting Domak of MY race as a low-born captive, you must be prepared to suffer the consequences of your rashness!”

“May I ask how you, so recently ignorant, know our language?”

“You question me? That is bold! Know that I, the Boss of the Road, show ignorance or knowledge, when and where I please. You may go.”

CHAPTER XV.

The Escape from Mardonale

“That was a wonderful bluff, Dick!” exclaimed the Kofedix in English as soon as Nalboon and his guards had disappeared. “That was exactly the tone to take with him, too—you’ve sure got him guessing!”

“It seemed to get him, all right, but I’m wondering how long it’ll hold him. I think we’d better make a dash for the Skylark right now, before he has time to think it over, don’t you?”

“That is undoubtedly the best way,” Dunark replied, lapsing into his own tongue. “Nalboon is plainly in awe of you now, but if I understand him at all, he is more than ever determined to seize your vessel, and every darkam’s delay is dangerous.”

The Earth-people quickly secured the few personal belongings they had brought with them. Stepping out into the hall and waving away the guards, Seaton motioned Dunark to lead the way. The other captives fell in behind, as they had done before, and the party walked boldly toward the door of the palace. The guards offered no opposition, but stood at attention and saluted as they passed. As they approached the entrance, however, Seaton saw the major-domo hurrying away and surmised that he was carrying the news to Nalboon. Outside the door, walking directly toward the landing dock, Dunark spoke in a low voice to Seaton, without turning.

“Nalboon knows by this time that we are making our escape, and it will be war to the death from here to the Skylark. I do not think there will be any pursuit from the palace, but he has warned the officers in charge of the dock and they will try to kill us as soon as we step out of the elevator, perhaps sooner. Nalboon intended to wait, but we have forced his hand and the dock is undoubtedly swarming with soldiers now. Shoot first and oftenest. Shoot first and think afterward. Show no mercy, as you will receive none—remember that the quality you call ‘mercy’ does not exist upon Osnome.”

Rounding a great metal statue about fifty feet from the base of the towering dock, they saw that the door leading into one of the elevators was wide open and that two guards stood just inside it. As they caught sight of the approaching party, the guards raised their rifles; but, quick as they were, Seaton was quicker. At the first sight of the open door he had made two quick steps and had hurled himself across the intervening forty feet in a long football plunge. Before the two guards could straighten, he crashed into them, his great momentum hurling them across the elevator cage and crushing them into unconsciousness against its metal wall.

“Good work!” said Dunark, as he preceded the others into the elevator, and, after receiving Seaton’s permission, distributed the weapons of the two guards among the men of his party. “Now we can surprise those upon the roof. That was why you didn’t shoot?”

“Yes, I was afraid to risk a shot—it would give the whole thing away,” Seaton replied, as he threw the unconscious guards out into the grounds and closed the massive door.

“Aren’t you going to kill them?” asked Sitar, amazement in every feature and a puzzled expression in her splendid eyes. A murmur arose from the other Kondalians, which was quickly silenced by the Kofedix.

“It is dishonorable for a soldier of Earth to kill a helpless prisoner,” he said briefly. “We cannot understand it, but we must not attempt to sway him in any point of honor.”

Dunark stepped to the controls and the elevator shot upward, stopping at a landing several stories below the top of the dock. He took a peculiar device from his belt and fitted it over the muzzle of his strange pistol.

“We will get out here,” he instructed the others, “and go up the rest of the way by a little-used flight of stairs. We will probably encounter some few guards, but I can dispose of them without raising an alarm. You will all stay behind me, please.”

Seaton remonstrated, and Dunark went on:

“No, Seaton, you have done your share, and more. I am upon familiar ground now, and can do the work alone better than if you were to help me. I will call upon you, however, before we reach the dock.”

The Kofedix led the way, his pistol resting lightly against his hip, and at the first turn of the corridor they came full upon four guards. The pistol did not move from its place at the side of the leader, but there were four subdued clicks and the four guards dropped dead, with bullets through their brains.

“Seaton, that is some silencer,” whispered DuQuesne. “I didn’t suppose a silencer could work that fast.”

“They don’t use powder,” Seaton replied absently, all his faculties directed toward the next corner. “The bullets are propelled by an electrical charge.”

In the same manner Dunark disposed of several more guards before the last stairway was reached.

* * * *

“Seaton,” he whispered in English, “now is the time we need your rapid pistol-work and your high-explosive shells. There must be hundreds of soldiers on the other side of that door, armed with machine-cannon shooting high-explosive shells at the rate of a thousand per minute. Our chance is this—their guns are probably trained upon the elevators and main stairways, since this passage is unused and none of us would be expected to know of it. Most of them don’t know of it themselves. It will take them a second or two to bring their guns to bear upon us. We must do all the damage we can—kill them all, if possible—in that second or two. If Crane will lend me a pistol, we’ll make the rush together.”

“I’ve a better scheme than that,” interrupted DuQuesne. “Next to you, Seaton, I’m the fastest man with a gun here. Also, like you, I can use both hands at once. Give me a couple of clips of those special cartridges and you and I will blow that bunch into the air before they know we’re here.”

It was decided that the two pistol experts should take the lead, closely followed by Crane and Dunark. The weapons were loaded to capacity and put in readiness for instant use.

“Let’s go, bunch!” said Seaton. “The quicker we start the quicker we’ll get back. Get ready to run out there, all the rest of you, as soon as the battle’s over. Ready? On your marks—get set—go!”

He kicked the door open and there was a stuttering crash as the four automatic pistols simultaneously burst into practically continuous flame—a crash obliterated by an overwhelming concussion of sound as the X-plosive shells, sweeping the entire roof with a rapidly-opening fan of death, struck their marks and exploded. Well it was for the little group of wanderers that the two men in the door were past masters in the art of handling their weapons; well it was that they had in their tiny pistol-bullets the explosive force of hundreds of giant shells! For rank upon rank of soldiery were massed upon the roof; rapid-fire cannon, terrible engines of destruction, were pointing toward the elevators and toward the main stairways and approaches. But so rapid and fierce was the attack, that even those trained gunners had no time to point their guns. The battle lasted little more than a second, being over before either Crane or Dunark could fire a shot, and silence again reigned even while broken and shattered remnants of the guns and fragments of the metal and stone of the dock were still falling to the ground through a fine mist of what had once been men.

Assured by a rapid glance that not a single Mardonalian remained upon the dock, Seaton turned back to the others.

“Make it snappy, bunch! This is going to be a mighty unhealthy spot for us in a few minutes.”

Dorothy threw her arms around his neck in relief. With one arm about her, he hastily led the way across the dock toward the Skylark, choosing the path with care because of the yawning holes blown into the structure by the terrific force of the explosions. The Skylark was still in place, held immovable by the attractor, but what a sight she was! Her crystal windows were shattered; her mighty plates of four-foot Norwegian armor were bent and cracked and twisted; two of her doors, warped and battered, hung awry from their broken hinges. Not a shell had struck her: all this damage had been done by flying fragments of the guns and of the dock itself; and Seaton and Crane, who had developed the new explosive, stood aghast at its awful power.

They hastily climbed into the vessel, and Seaton assured himself that the controls were uninjured.

“I hear battleships,” Dunark said. “Is it permitted that I operate one of your machine guns?”

“Go as far as you like,” responded Seaton, as he placed the women beneath the copper bar—the safest place in the vessel—and leaped to the instrument board. Before he reached it, and while DuQuesne, Crane, and Dunark were hastening to the guns, the whine of giant helicopter-screws was plainly heard. A ranging shell from the first warship, sighted a little low, exploded against the side of the dock beneath them. He reached the levers just as the second shell screamed through the air a bare four feet above them. As he shot the Skylark into the air under five notches of power, a steady stream of the huge bombs poured through the spot where, an instant before, the vessel had been. Crane and DuQuesne aimed several shots at the battleships, which were approaching from all sides, but the range was so extreme that no damage was done.

They heard the continuous chattering of the machine gun operated by the Kofedix, however, and turned toward him. He was shooting, not at the warships, but at the city rapidly growing smaller beneath them; moving the barrel of the rifle in a tiny spiral; spraying the entire city with death and destruction! As they looked, the first of the shells reached the ground, just as Dunark ceased firing for lack of ammunition. They saw the palace disappear as if by magic, being instantly blotted out in a cloud of dust—a cloud which, with a spiral motion of dizzying rapidity, increased in size until it obscured the entire city.

* * * *

Having attained sufficient altitude to be safe from any possible pursuit and out of range of even the heaviest guns, Seaton stopped the vessel and went out into the main compartment to consult with the other members of the group, about their next move.

“It sure does feel good to get a breath of cool air, folks,” he said, as he drew with relief a deep breath of the air, which, at that great elevation, was of an icy temperature and very thin. He glanced at the little group of Kondalians as he spoke, then leaped back to the instrument board with an apology on his lips—they were gasping for breath and shivering with the cold. He switched on the heating coils and dropped the Skylark rapidly in a long descent toward the ocean.

“If that is the temperature you enjoy, I understand at last why you wear clothes,” said the Kofedix, as soon as he could talk.

“Do not your planes fly up into the regions of low temperature?” asked Crane.

“Only occasionally, and all high-flying vessels are enclosed and heated to our normal temperature. We have heavy wraps, but we dislike to wear them so intensely that we never subject ourselves to any cold.”

“Well, there’s no accounting for tastes,” returned Seaton, “but I can’t hand your climate a thing. It’s hotter even than Washington in August; ‘and that,’ as the poet feelingly remarked, ‘is going some!’

“But there’s no reason for sitting here in the dark,” he continued, as he switched on the powerful daylight lamps which lighted the vessel with the nearest approach to sunlight possible to produce. As soon as the lights were on, Dorothy looked intently at the strange women.

“Now we can see what color they really are,” she explained to her lover in a low voice. “Why, they aren’t so very different from what they were before, except that the colors are much softer and more pleasing. They really are beautiful, in spite of being green. Don’t you think so, Dick?”

“They’re a handsome bunch, all right,” he agreed, and they were. Their skins were a light, soft green, tanned to an olive shade by their many fervent suns. Their teeth were a brilliant and shining grass-green. Their eyes and their long, thick hair were a glossy black.

The Kondalians looked at the Earthly visitors and at each other, and the women uttered exclamations of horror.

“What a frightful light?” exclaimed Sitar. “Please shut it off. I would rather be in total darkness than look like this!”

“What’s the matter, Sitar?” asked the puzzled Dorothy as Seaton turned off the lights. “You look perfectly stunning in this light.”

“They see things differently than we do,” explained Seaton. “Their optic nerves react differently than ours do. While we look all right to them, and they look all right to us, in both kinds of light, they look just as different to themselves under our daylight lamps as we do to ourselves in their green light. Is that explanation clear?”

“It’s clear enough as far as it goes, but what do they look like to themselves?”

“That’s too deep for me—I can’t explain it, any better than you can. Take the Osnomian color ‘mlap,’ for instance. Can you describe it?”

“It’s a kind of greenish orange—but it seems as though it ought not to look like that color either.”

“That’s it, exactly. From the knowledge you received from the educator, it should be a brilliant purple. That is due to the difference in the optic nerves, which explains why we see things so differently from the way the Osnomians do. Perhaps they can describe the way they look to each other in our white light.”

“Can you, Sitar?” asked Dorothy.

“One word describes it—‘horrible.’” replied the Kondalian princess, and her husband added:

“The colors are distorted and unrecognizable, just as your colors are to your eyes in our light.”

“Well, now that the color question is answered, let’s get going. I pretty nearly asked you the way, Dunark—forgot that I know it as well as you do.”

* * * *

The Skylark set off at as high an altitude as the Osnomians could stand. As they neared the ocean several great Mardonalian battleships, warned of the escape, sought to intercept them; but the Skylark hopped over them easily, out of range of their heaviest guns, and flew onward at such speed that pursuit was not even attempted. The ocean was quickly crossed. Soon the space-car came to rest over a great city, and Seaton pointed out the palace; which, with its landing dock nearby, was very similar to that of Nalboon, in the capital city of Mardonale.

Crane drew Seaton to one side.

“Do you think it is safe to trust these Kondalians, any more than it was the others? How would it be to stay in the Lark instead of going into the palace?”

“Yes, Mart, this bunch can be trusted. Dunark has a lot of darn queer ideas, but he’s square as a die. He’s our friend, and will get us the copper. We have no choice now, anyway, look at the bar. We haven’t an ounce of copper left—we’re down to the plating in spots. Besides, we couldn’t go anywhere if we had a ton of copper, because the old bus is a wreck. She won’t hold air—you could throw a cat out through the shell in any direction. She’ll have to have a lot of work done on her before we can think of leaving. As to staying in her, that wouldn’t help us a bit. Steel is as soft as wood to these folks—their shells would go through her as though she were made of mush. They are made of metal that is harder than diamond and tougher than rubber, and when they strike they bore in like drill-bits. If they are out to get us they’ll do it anyway, whether we’re here or there, so we may as well be guests. But there’s no danger, Mart. You know I swapped brains with him, and I know him as well as I know myself. He’s a good, square man—one of our kind of folks.”

Convinced, Crane nodded his head and the Skylark dropped toward the dock. While they were still high in air, Dunark took an instrument from his belt and rapidly manipulated a small lever. The others felt the air vibrate—a peculiar, pulsating wave, which, to the surprise of the Earthly visitors, they could read without difficulty. It was a message from the Kofedix to the entire city, telling of the escape of his party and giving the news that he was accompanied by two great Karfedo from another world. Then the pulsations became unintelligible, and all knew that he had tuned his instrument away from the “general” key into the individual key of some one person.

“I just let my father, the Karfedix, know that we are coming,” he explained, as the vibrations ceased.

From the city beneath them hundreds of great guns roared forth a welcome, banners and streamers hung from every possible point, and the air became tinted and perfumed with a bewildering variety of colors and scents and quivered with the rush of messages of welcome. The Skylark was soon surrounded by a majestic fleet of giant warships, who escorted her with impressive ceremony to the landing dock, while around them flitted great numbers of other aircraft. The tiny one-man helicopters darted hither and thither, apparently always in imminent danger of colliding with some of their larger neighbors, but always escaping as though by a miracle. Beautiful pleasure-planes soared and dipped and wheeled like giant gulls; and, cleaving their stately way through the numberless lesser craft; immense multiplane passenger liners partially supported by helicopter screws turned aside from their scheduled courses to pay homage to the Kofedix of Kondal.

As the Skylark approached the top of the dock, all the escorting vessels dropped away and Crane saw that instead of the brilliant assemblage he had expected to see upon the landing-place there was only a small group of persons, as completely unadorned as were those in the car. In answer to his look of surprise, the Kofedix said, with deep feeling:

“My father, mother, and the rest of the family. They know that we, as escaped captives, would be without harness or trappings, and are meeting us in the same state.”

* * * *

Seaton brought the vessel to the dock near the little group, and the Earthly visitors remained inside their vessel while the rulers of Kondal welcomed the sons and daughters they had given up for dead.

After the affecting reunion, which was very similar to an earthly one under similar circumstances, the Kofedix led his father up to the Skylark and his guests stepped down upon the dock.

“Friends,” Dunark began, “I have told you of my father, Roban, the Karfedix of Kondal. Father, it is a great honor to present to you those who rescued us from Mardonale—Seaton, Karfedix of Knowledge; Crane, Karfedix of Wealth; Miss Vaneman; and Miss Spencer. Karfedix DuQuesne,” waving his hand toward him, “is a lesser Karfedix of Knowledge, captive to the others.”

“The Kofedix Dunark exaggerates our services,” deprecated Seaton, “and doesn’t mention the fact that he saved all our lives. But for him we all should have been killed.”

The Karfedix, disregarding Seaton’s remark, acknowledged the indebtedness of Kondal in heartfelt accents before he led them back to the other party and made the introductions. As all walked toward the elevators, the emperor turned to his son with a puzzled expression.

“I know from your message, Dunark, that our guests are from a distant solar system, and I can understand your accident with the educator, but I cannot understand the titles of these men. Knowledge and wealth are not ruled over. Are you sure that you have translated their titles correctly?”

“As correctly as I can—we have no words in our language to express the meaning. Their government is a most peculiar one, the rulers all being chosen by the people of the whole nation.…”

“Extraordinary!” interjected the older man. “How, then, can anything be accomplished?”

“I do not understand the thing myself, it is so utterly unheard-of. But they have no royalty, as we understand the term. In America, their country, every man is equal.

“That is,” he hastened to correct himself, “they are not all equal, either, as they have two classes which would rank with royalty—those who have attained to great heights of knowledge and those who have amassed great wealth. This explanation is entirely inadequate and does not give the right idea of their positions, but it is as close as I can come to the truth in our language.”

“I am surprised that you should be carrying a prisoner with you, Karfedo,” said Roban, addressing Seaton and Crane. “You will, of course, be at perfect liberty to put him to death in any way that pleases you, just as though you were in your own kingdoms. But perchance you are saving him so that his death will crown your home-coming?”

The Kofedix spoke in answer while Seaton, usually so quick to speak, was groping for words.

“No, father, he is not to be put to death. That is another peculiar custom of the Earth-men; they consider it dishonorable to harm a captive, or even an unarmed enemy. For that reason we must treat the Karfedix DuQuesne with every courtesy due his rank, but at the same time he is to be allowed to do only such things as may be permitted by Seaton and Crane.”

“Yet they do not seem to be a weak race,” mused the older man.

“They are a mighty race, far advanced in evolution,” replied his son. “It is not weakness, but a peculiar moral code. We have many things to learn from them, and but few to give them in return. Their visit will mean much to Kondal.”

* * * *

During this conversation they had descended to the ground and had reached the palace, after traversing grounds even more sumptuous and splendid than those surrounding the palace of Nalboon. Inside the palace walls the Kofedix himself led the guests to their rooms, accompanied by the major-domo and an escort of guards. He explained to them that the rooms were all inter-communicating, each having a completely equipped bathroom.

“Complete except for cold water, you mean,” said Seaton with a smile.

“There is cold water,” rejoined the other, leading him into the bathroom and releasing a ten-inch stream of lukewarm water into the small swimming pool, built of polished metal, which forms part of every Kondalian bathroom. “But I am forgetting that you like extreme cold. We will install refrigerating machines at once.”

“Don’t do it—thanks just the same. We won’t be here long enough to make it worth while.”

Dunark smilingly replied that he would make his guests as comfortable as he could, and after informing them that in one kam he would return and escort them in to koprat, took his leave. Scarcely had the guests freshened themselves when he was back, but he was no longer the Dunark they had known. He now wore a metal-and-leather harness which was one blaze of precious gems, and a leather belt hung with jeweled weapons replaced the familiar hollow girdle of metal. His right arm, between the wrist and the elbow, was almost covered by six bracelets of a transparent metal, deep cobalt-blue in color, each set with an incredibly brilliant stone of the same shade. On his left wrist he wore an Osnomian chronometer. This was an instrument resembling the odometer of an automobile, whose numerous revolving segments revealed a large and constantly increasing number—the date and time of the Osnomian day, expressed in a decimal number of the karkamo of Kondalian history.

“Greetings, oh guests from Earth! I feel more like myself, now that I am again in my trappings and have my weapons at my side. Will you accompany me to koprat, or are you not hungry?” as he attached the peculiar timepieces to the wrists of the guests, with bracelets of the deep-blue metal.

“We accept with thanks,” replied Dorothy promptly. “We’re starving to death, as usual.”

As they walked toward the dining hall, Dunark noticed that Dorothy’s eyes strayed toward his bracelets, and he answered her unasked question:

“These are our wedding rings. Man and wife exchange bracelets as part of the ceremony.”

“Then you can tell whether a man is married or not, and how many wives he has, simply by looking at his arm? We should have something like that on Earth, Dick—then married men wouldn’t find it so easy to pose as bachelors!”

Roban met them at the door of the great dining hall. He also was in full panoply, and Dorothy counted ten of the heavy bracelets upon his right arm as he led them to places near his own. The room was a replica of the other Osnomian dining hall they had seen and the women were decorated with the same barbaric splendor of scintillating gems.

After the meal, which was a happy one, taking the nature of a celebration in honor of the return of the captives, DuQuesne went directly to his room while the others spent the time until the zero hour in strolling about the splendid grounds, always escorted by many guards. Returning to the room occupied by the two girls, the couples separated, each girl accompanying her lover to the door of his room.

Margaret was ill at ease, though trying hard to appear completely self-possessed.

“What is the matter, sweetheart Peggy?” asked Crane, solicitously.

“I didn’t know that you.…” she broke off and continued with a rush: “What did the Kofedix mean just now, when he called you the Karfedix of Wealth?”

“Well, you see, I happen to have some money.…” he began.

“Then you are the great M. Reynolds Crane?” she interrupted, in consternation.

“Leave off ‘the great,’” he said, then, noting her expression, he took her in his arms and laughed slightly.

“Is that all that was bothering you? What does a little money amount to between you and me?”

“Nothing—but I’m awfully glad that I didn’t know it before,” she replied, as she returned his caress with fervor. “That is, it means nothing if you are perfectly sure I’m not.…”

Crane, the imperturbable, broke a life-long rule and interrupted her.

“Do not say that, dear. You know as well as I do that between you and me there never have been, are not now, and never shall be, any doubts or any questions.”

* * * *

“If I could have a real cold bath now, I’d feel fine,” remarked Seaton, standing in his own door with Dorothy by his side. “I’m no blooming Englishman but in weather as hot as this I sure would like to dive into a good cold tank. How do you feel after all this excitement, Dottie? Up to standard?”

“I’m scared purple,” she replied, nestling against him, “or, at least, if not exactly scared, I’m apprehensive and nervous. I always thought I had good nerves, but everything here is so horrible and unreal, that I can’t help but feel it. When I’m with you I really enjoy the experience, but when I’m alone or with Peggy, especially in the sleeping-period, which is so awfully long and when it seems that something terrible is going to happen every minute, my mind goes off in spite of me into thoughts of what may happen. Why, last night, Peggy and I just huddled up to each other in a ghastly yellow funk—dreading we knew not what—the two of us slept hardly at all.”

“I’m sorry, little girl,” replied Seaton, embracing her tenderly, “sorrier than I can say. I know that your nerves are all right, but you haven’t roughed it enough, or lived in strange environments enough, to be able to feel at home. The reason you feel safer with me is that I feel perfectly at home here myself, not that your nerves are going to pieces or anything like that. It won’t be for long, though, sweetheart—as soon as we get the chariot fixed up we’ll beat it back to the Earth so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

“Yes, I think that’s the reason, lover. I hope you won’t think I’m a clinging vine, but I can’t help being afraid of something here every time I’m away from you. You’re so self-reliant, so perfectly at ease here, that it makes me feel the same way.”

“I am perfectly at ease. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ve been in hundreds of worse places, right on Earth. I sure wish I could be with you all the time, sweetheart girl—only you can understand just how much I wish it—but, as I said before, it won’t be long until we can be together all the time.”

Dorothy pushed him into his room, followed him within it, closed the door, and put both hands on his arm.

“Dick, sweetheart,” she whispered, while a hot blush suffused her face, “you’re not as dumb as I thought you were—you’re dumber! But if you simply won’t say it, I will. Don’t you know that a marriage that is legal where it is performed is legal anywhere, and that no law says that the marriage must be performed upon the Earth?”

He pressed her to his heart in a mighty embrace, and his low voice showed in every vibration the depth of the feeling he held for the beautiful woman in his arms as he replied:

“I never thought of that, sweetheart, and I wouldn’t have dared mention it if I had. You’re so far away from your family and your friends that it would seem.…”

“It wouldn’t seem anything of the kind,” she broke in earnestly. “Don’t you see, you big, dense, wonderful man, that it is the only thing to do? We need each other, or at least, I need you, so much now.…”

“Say ‘each other’; it’s right,” declared her lover with fervor.

“It’s foolish to wait. Mother would like to have seen me married, of course; but there will be great advantages, even on that side. A grand wedding, of the kind we would simply have to have in Washington, doesn’t appeal to me any more than it does to you—and it would bore you to extinction. Dad would hate it, too—it’s better all around to be married here.”

Seaton, who had been trying to speak, silenced her.

“I’m convinced, Dottie, have been ever since the first word. If you can see it that way I’m so glad that I can’t express it. I’ve been scared stiff every time I thought of our wedding. I’ll speak to the Karfedix the first thing in the morning, and we’ll be married tomorrow—or rather today, since it is past the zero kam,” as he glanced at the chronometer upon his wrist, which, driven by wireless impulses from the master-clock in the national observatory, was clicking off the darkamo with an almost inaudible purr of its smoothly-revolving segments.

“How would it be to wake him up and have it done now?”

“Oh, Dick, be reasonable! That would never do. Tomorrow will be most awfully sudden, as it is! And Dick, please speak to Martin, will you? Peggy’s even more scared than I am, and Martin, the dear old stupid, is even less likely to suggest such a thing as this kind of a wedding than you are. Peggy’s afraid to suggest it to him.”

“Woman!” he said in mock sternness, “Is this a put-up job?”

“It certainly is. Did you think I had nerve enough to do it without help?”

Seaton turned and opened the door.

“Mart! Bring Peggy over here!” he called, as he led Dorothy back into the girls’ room.

“Heavens, Dick, be careful! You’ll spoil the whole thing!”

“No, I won’t. Leave it to me—I bashfully admit that I’m a regular bear-cat at this diplomatic stuff. Watch my smoke!”

“Folks,” he said, when the four were together, “Dottie and I have been talking things over, and we’ve decided that today’s the best possible date for a wedding. Dottie’s afraid of these long, daylight nights, and I admit that I’d sleep a lot sounder if I knew where she was all the time instead of only part of it. She says she’s willing, provided you folks see it the same way and make it double. How about it?”

Margaret blushed furiously and Crane’s lean, handsome face assumed a darker color as he replied:

“A marriage here would, of course, be legal anywhere, provided we have a certificate, and we could be married again upon our return if we think it desirable. It might look as though we were taking an unfair advantage of the girls, Dick, but considering all the circumstances, I think it would be the best thing for everyone concerned.”

He saw the supreme joy in Margaret’s eyes, and his own assumed a new light as he drew her into the hollow of his arm.

“Peggy has known me only a short time, but nothing else in the world is as certain as our love. It is the bride’s privilege to set the date, so I will only say that it cannot be too soon for me.”

“The sooner the better,” said Margaret, with a blush that would have been divine in any earthly light, “did you say ‘today,’ Dick?”

“I’ll see the Karfedix as soon as he gets up,” he answered, and walked with Dorothy to his door.

“I’m just too supremely happy for words,” Dorothy whispered in Seaton’s ear as he bade her good-night. “I won’t be able to sleep or anything!”

CHAPTER XVI.

An Osnomian Marriage

Seaton awoke, hot and uncomfortable, but with a great surge of joy in his heart—this was his wedding day! Springing from the bed, he released the full stream of the “cold” water, filling the tank in a few moments. Poising lightly upon the edge, he made a clean, sharp dive, and yelled in surprise as he came snorting to the surface. For Dunark had made good his promise—the water was only a few degrees above the freezing point! After a few minutes of vigorous splashing in the icy water, he rubbed himself down with a coarse towel, shaved, threw on his clothes, and lifted his powerful, but musical, bass voice in the wedding chorus from “The Rose Maiden.”

“Rise, sweet maid, arise, arise,

Rise, sweet maid, arise, arise,

’Tis the last fair morning for thy maiden eyes,”

he sang lustily, out of his sheer joy in being alive, and was surprised to hear Dorothy’s clear soprano, Margaret’s pleasing contralto, and Crane’s mellow tenor chime in from the adjoining room. Crane threw open the door and Seaton joined the others.

“Good morning. Dick, you sound happy,” said Crane.

“Who wouldn’t be? Look what’s doing today,” as he ardently embraced his bride-to-be. “Besides, I found some cold water this morning.”

“Everyone in the palace heard you discovering it,” dryly returned Crane, and the girls laughed merrily.

“It surprised me at first,” admitted Seaton, “but it’s great after a fellow once gets wet.”

“We warmed ours a trifle,” said Dorothy. “I like a cold bath myself, but not in ice-water.”

All four became silent, thinking of the coming event of the day, until Crane said:

“They have ministers here, I know, and I know something of their religion, but my knowledge is rather vague. You know more about it than we do, Dick, suppose you tell us about it while we wait.”

Seaton paused a moment, with an odd look on his face. As one turning the pages of an unfamiliar book of reference, he was seeking the answer to Crane’s question in the vast store of Osnomian information received from Dunark. His usually ready speech came a little slowly.

“Well, as nearly as I can explain it, it’s a funny kind of a mixture—partly theology, partly Darwinism, or at least, making a fetish of evolution, and partly pure economic determinism. They believe in a Supreme Being, whom they call the First Cause—that is the nearest English equivalent—and they recognize the existence of an immortal and unknowable life-principle, or soul. They believe that the First Cause has decreed the survival of the fittest as the fundamental law, which belief accounts for their perfect physiques.…”

“Perfect physiques? Why, they’re as weak as children,” interrupted Dorothy.

“Yes, but that is because of the smallness of the planet,” returned Seaton. “You see, a man of my size weighs only eighty-six pounds here, on a spring balance, so he would need only the muscular development of a boy of twelve or so. In a contest of strength, either of you girls could easily handle two of the strongest men upon Osnome. In fact, the average Osnomian could stand up on our Earth only with the greatest difficulty. But that isn’t the fault of the people; they are magnificently developed for their surroundings. They have attained this condition by centuries of weeding out the unfit. They have no hospitals for the feeble-minded or feeble-bodied—abnormal persons are not allowed to live. The same reasoning accounts for their perfect cleanliness, moral and physical. Vice is practically unknown. They believe that clean living and clean thinking are rewarded by the production of a better physical and mental type.…”

“Yes, especially as they correct wrong living by those terrible punishments the Kofedix told us about,” interrupted Margaret.

“That probably helps some. They also believe that the higher the type is, the faster will evolution proceed, and the sooner will mankind reach what they call the Ultimate Goal, and know all things. Believing as they do that the fittest must survive, and thinking themselves, of course, the superior type, it is ordained that Mardonale must be destroyed utterly, root and branch. They believe that the slaves are so low in the scale, millions of years behind in evolution, that they do not count. Slaves are simply intelligent and docile animals, little more than horses or oxen. Mardonalians and savages are unfit to survive and must be exterminated.

“Their ministers are chosen from the very fittest. They are the strongest, cleanest-living, and most vigorous men of this clean and vigorous nation, and are usually high army officers as well as ministers.”

* * * *

An attendant announced the coming of the Karfedix and his son, to pay the call of state. After the ceremonious greetings had been exchanged, all went into the dining hall for darprat. As soon as the meal was over, Seaton brought up the question of the double wedding that kokam, and the Karfedix was overjoyed.

“Karfedix Seaton,” he said earnestly, “nothing could please us more than to have such a ceremony performed in our palace. Marriage between such highly-evolved persons as are you four is wished by the First Cause, whose servants we are. Aside from that, it is an unheard-of honor for any ruler to have even one karfedix married beneath his roof, and you are granting me the privilege of two! I thank you, and assure you that we will do our poor best to make the occasion memorable.”

“Don’t do anything fancy,” said Seaton hastily. “A simple, plain wedding will do.”

Unheeding Seaton’s remark, the Karfedix took his wireless from its hook at his belt and sent a brief message.

“I have summoned Karbix Tarnan to perform the ceremony. Our usual time for ceremonies is just before koprat—is that time satisfactory to you?”

Assured that it was, he turned to his son.

“Dunark, you are more familiar than I with the customs of our illustrious visitors. May I ask you to take charge of the details?”

While Dunark sent a rapid succession of messages, Dorothy whispered to Seaton:

“They must be going to make a real function of our double wedding, Dick. The Karbix is the highest dignitary of the church, isn’t he?”

“Yes, in addition to being the Commander-in-Chief of all the Kondalian armies. Next to the Karfedix he is the most powerful man in the empire. Something tells me, Dottie, that this is going to be SOME ceremony!”

As Dunark finished telegraphing, Seaton turned to him.

“Dorothy said, a while ago, that she would like to have enough of that tapestry-fabric for a dress. Do you suppose it could be managed?”

“Certainly. In all state ceremonials we always wear robes made out of the same fabric as the tapestries, but much finer and more delicate. I would have suggested it, but thought perhaps the ladies would prefer their usual clothing. I know that you two men do not care to wear our robes?”

“We will wear white ducks, the dressiest and coolest things we have along,” replied Seaton. “Thank you for your offer, but you know how it is. We should feel out of place in such gorgeous dress.”

“I understand. I will call in a few of our most expert robe-makers, who will weave the gowns. Before they come, let us decide upon the ceremony. I think you are familiar with our marriage customs, but I will explain them to make sure. Each couple is married twice. The first marriage is symbolized by the exchange of plain bracelets and lasts four karkamo, during which period divorce may be obtained at will. The children of such divorced couples formerly became wards of the state, but in my lifetime I have not heard of there being any such children—all divorces are now between couples who discover their incompatibility before children are conceived.”

“That surprises me greatly,” said Crane. “Some system of trial-marriage is advocated among us on Earth every few years, but they all so surely degenerate into free love that no such system has found a foothold.”

“We are not troubled in that way at all. You see, before the first marriage, each couple, from the humblest peasantry to the highest royalty, must submit to a mental examination. If they are marrying for any reason at all other than love, such as any thought of trifling in the mind of the man, or if the woman is marrying him for his wealth or position, he or she is summarily executed, regardless of station.”

No other questions being asked, Dunark continued:

“At the end of four karkamo the second marriage is performed, which is indissoluble. In this ceremony jeweled bracelets are substituted for the plain ones. In the case of highly-evolved persons it is permitted that the two ceremonies be combined into one. Then there is a third ceremony, used only in the marriage of persons of the very highest evolution, in which the ‘eternal’ vows are taken and the faidon, the eternal jewel, is exchanged. As you are all in the permitted class, you may use the eternal ceremony if you wish.”

“I think we all know our minds well enough to know that we want to be married for good—the longer the better,” said Seaton, positively. “We’ll make it the eternal, won’t we, folks?”

“I should like to ask one question,” said Crane, thoughtfully. “Does that ceremony imply that my wife would be breaking her vows if she married again upon my death?”

“Far from it. Numbers of our men are killed every karkam. Their wives, if of marriageable age, are expected to marry again. Then, too, you know that most Kondalian men have several wives. No matter how many wives or husbands may be linked together in that way, it merely means that after death their spirits will be grouped into one. Just as in your chemistry,” smiling in comradely fashion at Seaton, “a varying number of elements may unite to form a stable compound.”

* * * *

After a short pause, the speaker went on:

“Since you are from the Earth and unaccustomed to bracelets, rings will be substituted for them. The plain rings will take the place of your Earthly wedding rings, the jeweled ones that of your engagement rings. The only difference is that while we discard the plain bracelets, you will continue to wear them. Have you men any objections to wearing the rings during the ceremony? You may discard them later if you wish and still keep the marriage valid.”

“Not I! I’ll wear mine all my life,” responded Seaton earnestly, and Crane expressed the same thought.

“There is only one more thing,” added the Kofedix. “That is, about the mental examination. Since it is not your custom, it is probable that the justices would waive the ruling, especially since everyone must be examined by a jury of his own or a superior rank, so that only one man, my father alone, could examine you.”

“Not in a thousand years!” replied Seaton emphatically. “I want to be examined, and have Dorothy see the record. I don’t care about having her put through it, but I want her to know exactly the kind of a guy she is getting.”

Dorothy protested at this, but as all four were eager that they themselves should be tested, the Karfedix was notified and Dunark clamped sets of multiple electrodes, connected to a set of instruments, upon the temples of his father, Dorothy, and Seaton. He pressed a lever, and instantly Dorothy and Seaton read each other’s minds to the minutest detail, and each knew that the Karfedix was reading the minds of both.

After Margaret and Crane had been examined, the Karfedix expressed himself as more than satisfied.

“You are all of the highest evolution and your minds are all untainted by any base thoughts in your marriage. The First Cause will smile upon your unions,” he said solemnly.

“Let the robe-makers appear,” the Karfedix ordered, and four women, hung with spools of brilliantly-colored wire of incredible fineness and with peculiar looms under their arms, entered the room and accompanied the two girls to their apartment.

As soon as the room was empty save for the four men, Dunark said:

“While I was in Mardonale, I heard bits of conversation regarding an immense military discovery possessed by Nalboon, besides the gas whose deadly effects we felt. I could get no inkling of its nature, but feel sure that it is something to be dreaded. I also heard that both of these secrets had been stolen from Kondal, and that we were to be destroyed by our own superior inventions.”

The Karfedix nodded his head gloomily.

“That is true, my son—partly true, at least. We shall not be destroyed, however. Kondal shall triumph. The discoveries were made by a Kondalian, but I am as ignorant as are you concerning their nature. An obscure inventor, living close to the bordering ocean, was the discoverer. He was rash enough to wireless me concerning them. He would not reveal their nature, but requested a guard. The Mardonalian patrol intercepted the message and captured both him and his discoveries before our guard could arrive.”

“That’s easily fixed,” suggested Seaton. “Let’s get the Skylark fixed up, and we’ll go jerk Nalboon out of his palace—if he’s still alive—bring him over here, and read his mind.”

“That might prove feasible,” answered the Kofedix, “and in any event we must repair the Skylark and replenish her supply of copper immediately. That must be our first consideration, so that you, our guests, will have a protection in any emergency.”

The Karfedix went to his duties and the other three made their way to the wrecked space-car. They found that besides the damage done to the hull, many of the instruments were broken, including one of the object-compasses focused upon the Earth.

“It’s a good thing you had three of them, Mart. I sure hand it to you for preparedness,” said Seaton, as he tossed the broken instruments out upon the dock. Dunark protested at this treatment, and placed the discarded instruments in a strong metal safe, remarking:

“These things may prove useful at some future time.”

“Well, I suppose the first thing to do is to get some powerful jacks and straighten these plates,” said Seaton.

“Why not throw away this soft metal, steel, and build it of arenak, as it should be built? You have plenty of salt,” suggested Dunark.

“Fine! We have lots of salt in the galley, haven’t we, Mart?”

“Yes, nearly a hundred pounds. We are stocked for emergencies, with two years’ supply of food, you know.”

* * * *

Dunark’s eyes opened in astonishment at the amount mentioned, in spite of his knowledge of earthly conditions. He started to say something, then stopped in confusion, but Seaton divined his thought.

“We can spare him fifty pounds as well as not, can’t we, Mart?”

“Certainly. Fifty pounds of salt is a ridiculously cheap price for what he is doing for us, even though it is very rare here.”

Dunark acknowledged the gift with shining eyes and heartfelt, but not profuse, thanks, and bore the precious bag to the palace under a heavy escort. He returned with a small army of workmen, and after making tests to assure himself that the power-bar would work as well through arenak as through steel, he instructed the officers concerning the work to be done. As the wonderfully skilled mechanics set to work without a single useless motion, the prince stood silent, with a look of care upon his handsome face.

“Worrying about Mardonale, Dunark?”

“Yes. I cannot help wondering what that terrible new engine of destruction is, which Nalboon now has at his command.”

“Say, why don’t you build a bus like the Skylark, and blow Mardonale off the map?”

“Building the vessel would be easy enough, but X is as yet unknown upon Osnome.”

“We’ve got a lot of it.…”

“I could not accept it. The salt was different, since you have plenty. X, however, is as scarce upon Earth as salt is upon Osnome.”

“Sure you can accept it. We stopped at a planet that has lots of it, and we’ve got an object-compass pointing at it so that we can go back and get more of it any time we want it. We’ve got more of it on hand now than we’re apt to need for a long time, so have a hunk and get busy,” and he easily carried one of the lumps out of his cabin and tossed it upon the dock, from whence it required two of Kondal’s strongest men to lift it.

The look of care vanished from the face of the prince and he summoned another corps of mechanics.

“How thick shall the walls be? Our battleships are armed with arenak the thickness of a hand, but with your vast supply of salt you may have it any thickness you wish, since the materials of the matrix are cheap and abundant.”

“One inch would be enough, but everything in the bus is designed for a four-foot shell, and if we change it from four feet we’ll have to redesign our guns and all our instruments. Let’s make it four feet.”

Seaton turned to the crippled Skylark, upon which the first crew of Kondalian mechanics were working with skill and with tools undreamed-of upon Earth. The whole interior of the vessel was supported by a complex falsework of latticed metal, then the four-foot steel plates and the mighty embers, the pride of the great MacDougall, were cut away as though they were made of paper by revolving saws and enormous power shears. The sphere, grooved for the repellers and with the members, braces, and central machinery complete, of the exact dimensions of the originals, was rapidly moulded of a stiff, plastic substance resembling clay. This matrix soon hardened into a rock-like mass into which the doors, machine-gun emplacements, and other openings were carefully cut. All surfaces were then washed with a dilute solution of salt, which the workmen handled as though it were radium. Two great plates of platinum were clamped into place upon either side of the vessel, each plate connected by means of silver cables as large as a man’s leg to the receiving terminal of an enormous wireless power station. The current was applied and the great spherical mass apparently disappeared, being transformed instantly into the transparent metal arenak. Then indeed had the Earth-men a vehicle such as had never been seen before! A four-foot shell of metal five hundred times as strong and hard as the strongest and hardest steel, cast in one piece with the sustaining framework designed by the world’s foremost engineer—a structure that no conceivable force could deform or injure, housing an inconceivable propulsive force!

* * * *

The falsework was rapidly removed and the sustaining framework was painted with opaque varnish to render it plainly visible. At Seaton’s suggestion the walls of the cabins were also painted, leaving transparent several small areas to serve as windows.

The second work-period was drawing to a close, and as Seaton and Crane were to be married before koprat, they stopped work. They marveled at the amount that had been accomplished, and the Kofedix told them:

“Both vessels will be finished tomorrow, except for the controlling instruments, which we will have to make ourselves. Another crew will work during the sleeping-period, installing the guns and other fittings. Do you wish to have your own guns installed, or guns of our pattern? You are familiar with them now.”

“Our own, please. They are slower and less efficient than yours, but we are used to them and have a lot of X-plosive ammunition for them,” replied Seaton, after a short conference with Crane.

After instructing the officers in charge of the work, the three returned to the palace, the hearts of two of them beating high in anticipation. Seaton went into Crane’s room, accompanied by two attendants bearing his suitcase and other luggage.

“We should have brought along dress clothes, Mart. Why didn’t you think of that, too?”

“Nothing like this ever entered my mind. It is a good thing we brought along ducks and white soft shirts. I must say that this is extremely informal garb for a state wedding, but since the natives are ignorant of our customs, it will not make any difference.”

“That’s right, too—we’ll make ’em think it’s the most formal kind of dress. Dunark knows what’s what, but he knows that full dress would be unbearable here. We’d melt down in a minute. It’s plenty hot enough as it is, with only duck trousers and sport-shirts on. They’ll look green instead of white, but that’s a small matter.”

Dunark, as best man, entered the room some time later.

“Give us a look, Dunark,” begged Seaton, “and see if we’ll pass inspection. I was never so rattled in my life.”

They were clad in spotless white, from their duck oxfords to the white ties encircling the open collars of their tennis shirts. The two tall figures—Crane’s slender, wiry, at perfect ease; Seaton’s broad-shouldered, powerful, prowling about with unconscious, feline suppleness and grace—and the two handsome, high-bred, intellectual faces, each wearing a look of eager happiness, fully justified Dunark’s answer.

“You sure will do!” he pronounced enthusiastically, and with Seaton’s own impulsive good will he shook hands and wished them an eternity of happiness.

“When you have spoken with your brides,” he continued, “I shall be waiting to escort you into the chapel. Sitar told me to say that the ladies are ready.”

Dorothy and Margaret had been dressed in their bridal gowns by Sitar and several other princesses, under the watchful eyes of the Karfedir herself. Sitar placed the two girls side by side and drew off to survey her work.

“You are the loveliest creatures in the whole world!” she cried.

They looked at each other’s glittering gowns, then Margaret glanced at Dorothy’s face and a look of dismay overspread her own.

“Oh, Dottie!” she gasped. “Your lovely complexion! Isn’t it terrible for the boys to see us in this light?”

There was a peal of delighted laughter from Sitar and she spoke to one of the servants, who drew dark curtains across the windows and pressed a switch, flooding the room with brilliant white light.

“Dunark installed lamps like those of your ship for you,” she explained with intense satisfaction. “I knew in advance just how you would feel about your color.”

Before the girls had time to thank their thoughtful hostess she disappeared and their bridegrooms stood before them. For a moment no word was spoken. Seaton stared at Dorothy hungrily, almost doubting the evidence of his senses. For white was white, pink was pink, and her hair shone in all its natural splendor of burnished bronze.

In their wondrous Osnomian bridal robes the beautiful Earth-maidens stood before their lovers. Upon their feet were jeweled slippers. Their lovely bodies were clothed in softly shimmering garments that left their rounded arms and throats bare—garments infinitely more supple than the finest silk, thick-woven of metallic threads of such fineness that the individual wires were visible only under a lens; garments that floated and clung about their perfect forms in lines of exquisite grace. For black-haired Margaret, with her ivory skin, the Kondalian princess had chosen a background of a rare white metal, upon which, in complicated figures, glistened numberless jewels of pale colors, more brilliant than diamonds. Dorothy’s dress was of a peculiar, dark-green shade, half-hidden by an intricate design of blazing green gems—the strange, luminous jewels of this strange world. Both girls wore their long, heavy hair unbound, after the Kondalian bridal fashion, brushed until it fell like mist about them and confined at the temples by metallic bands entirely covered with jewels.

Seaton looked from Dorothy to Margaret and back again; looked down into her violet eyes, deep with wonder and with love, more beautiful than any jewel in all her gorgeous costume. Unheeding the presence of the others, she put her dainty hands upon his mighty shoulders and stood on tiptoe.

“I love you, Dick. Now and always, here or at home or anywhere in the Universe. We’ll never be parted again,” she whispered, and her own beloved violin had no sweeter tones than had her voice.

A few minutes later, her eyes wet and shining, she drew herself away from him and glanced at Margaret.

“Isn’t she the most beautiful thing you ever laid eyes on?”

“No,” Seaton answered promptly, “she is not—but poor old Mart thinks she is!”

* * * *

Accompanied by the Karfedix and his son, Seaton and Crane went into the chapel, which, already brilliant, had been decorated anew with even greater splendor. Glancing through the wide arches they saw, for the first time, Osnomians clothed. The great room was filled with the highest nobility of Kondal, wearing their heavily-jeweled, resplendent robes of state. Every color of the rainbow and numberless fantastic patterns were there, embodied in the soft, lustrous, metallic fabric.

As the men entered one door Dorothy and Margaret, with the Karfedir and Sitar, entered the other, and the entire assemblage rose to its feet and snapped into the grand salute. Moving to the accompaniment of strange martial music from concealed instruments, the two parties approached each other, meeting at the raised platform or pulpit where Karbix Tarnan, a handsome, stately, middle-aged man who carried easily his hundred and fifty karkamo of age, awaited them. As he raised his arms, the music ceased.

It was a solemn and wonderfully impressive spectacle. The room, of burnished metal, with its bizarre decorations wrought in scintillating gems; the constantly changing harmony of colors as the invisible lamps were shifted from one shade to another; the group of mighty nobles standing rigidly at attention in a silence so profound that it was an utter absence of everything audible as the Karbix lifted both arms in a silent invocation of the great First Cause—all these things deepened the solemnity of that solemn moment.

When Tarnan spoke, his voice, deep with some great feeling, inexplicable even to those who knew him best, carried clearly to every part of the great chamber.

“Friends, it is our privilege to assist today in a most notable event, the marriage of four personages from another world. For the first time in the history of Osnome, one karfedix has the privilege of entertaining the bridal party of another. It is not for this fact alone, however, that this occasion is to be memorable. A far deeper reason is that we are witnessing, possibly for the first time in the history of the Universe, the meeting upon terms of mutual fellowship and understanding of the inhabitants of two worlds separated by unthinkable distances of trackless space and by equally great differences in evolution, conditions of life, and environment. Yet these strangers are actuated by the spirit of good faith and honor which is instilled into every worthy being by the great First Cause, in the working out of whose vast projects all things are humble instruments.

“In honor of the friendship of the two worlds, we will proceed with the ceremony.

“Richard Seaton and Martin Crane, exchange the plain rings with Dorothy Vaneman and Margaret Spencer.”

They did so, and repeated, after the Karbix, simple vows of love and loyalty.

“May the First Cause smile upon this temporary marriage and render it worthy of being made permanent. As a lowly servant of the all-powerful First Cause I pronounce you two, and you two, husband and wife. But we must remember that the dull vision of mortal man cannot pierce the veil of futurity, which is as crystal to the all-beholding eye of the First Cause. Though you love each other truly, unforeseen things may come between you to mar the perfection of your happiness. Therefore a time is granted you during which you may discover whether or not your unions are perfect.”

A pause ensued, then Tarnan went on:

“Martin Crane, Margaret Spencer, Richard Seaton, and Dorothy Vaneman, you are before us to take the final vows which shall bind your bodies together for life and your spirits together for eternity. Have you considered the gravity of this step sufficiently to enter into this marriage without reservation?”

“I have,” solemnly replied the four, in unison.

“Exchange the jeweled rings. Do you, Richard Seaton and Dorothy Vaneman; and you, Martin Crane and Margaret Spencer; individually swear, here in the presence of the First Cause and that of the Supreme Justices of Kondal, that you will be true and loyal, each helping his chosen one in all things, great and small; that never throughout eternity, in thought or in action, will either your body or your mind or your conscious spirit stray from the path of fairness and truth and honor?”

“I do.”

“I pronounce you married with the eternal marriage. Just as the faidon which you each now wear—the eternal jewel which no force of man, however applied, has yet been able to change or deform in any particular; and which continues to give off its inward light without change throughout eternity—shall endure through endless cycles of time after the metal of the ring which holds it shall have crumbled in decay: even so shall your spirits, formerly two, now one and indissoluble, progress in ever-ascending evolution throughout eternity after the base material which is your bodies shall have returned to the senseless dust from whence it arose.”

* * * *

The Karbix lowered his arms and the bridal party walked to the door through a double rank of uplifted weapons. From the chapel they were led to another room, where the contracting parties signed their names in a register. The Kofedix then brought forward two marriage certificates—heavy square plates of a brilliant purple metal, beautifully engraved in parallel columns of English and Kondalian script, and heavily bordered with precious stones. The principals and witnesses signed below each column, the signatures being deeply engraved by the royal engraver. Leaving the registry, they were escorted to the dining hall, where a truly royal repast was served. Between courses the highest nobles of the nation welcomed the visitors and wished them happiness in short but earnest addresses. After the last course had been disposed of, the Karbix rose at a sign from the Karfedix and spoke, his voice again agitated by the emotion which had puzzled his hearers during the marriage service.

“All Kondal is with us here in spirit, trying to aid us in our poor attempts to convey our welcome to these our guests, of whose friendship no greater warrant could be given than their willingness to grant us the privilege of their marriage. Not only have they given us a boon that will make their names revered throughout the nation as long as Kondal shall exist, but they have also been the means of showing us plainly that the First Cause is upon our side, that our age-old institution of honor is in truth the only foundation upon which can be built a race fitted to survive. At the same time they have been the means of showing us that our hated foe, entirely without honor, building his race upon a foundation of bloodthirsty savagery alone, is building wrongly and must perish utterly from the face of Osnome.”

His hearers listened, impressed by his earnestness, but plainly not understanding his meaning.

“You do not understand?” he went on, with a deep light shining in his eyes. “It is inevitable that two peoples inhabiting worlds so widely separated as are our two should be possessed of widely-varying knowledge and abilities, and these strangers have already made it possible for us to construct engines of destruction which shall obliterate Mardonale completely.…” A fierce shout of joy interrupted the speaker and the nobles sprang to their feet, saluting the visitors with upraised weapons. As soon as they had reseated themselves, the Karbix continued:

“That is the boon. The vindication of our system of evolution is easily explained. The strangers landed first upon Mardonale. Had Nalboon met them in honor, he would have gained the boon. But he, with the savagery characteristic of his evolution, attempted to kill his guests and steal their treasures, with what results you already know. We, on our part, in exchange for the few and trifling services we have been able to render them, have received even more than Nalboon would have obtained, had his plans not been nullified by their vastly superior state of evolution.”

The orator seated himself and there was a deafening clamor of cheering as the nobles formed themselves into an escort of honor and conducted the two couples to their apartments.

Alone in their room, Dorothy turned to her husband with tears shining in her beautiful eyes.

“Dick, sweetheart, wasn’t that the most wonderful thing that anybody ever heard of? Using the word in all its real meaning, it was indescribably grand, and that old man is simply superb. It makes me ashamed of myself to think that I was ever afraid or nervous here.”

“It sure was all of that, Dottie mine, little bride of an hour. The whole thing gets right down to where a fellow lives—I’ve got a lump in my throat right now so big that it hurts me to think. Earthly marriages are piffling in comparison with that ceremony. It’s no wonder they’re happy, after taking those vows—especially as they don’t have to take them until after they are sure of themselves.

“But we’re sure already, sweetheart,” as he embraced her with all the feeling of his nature. “Those vows are not a bit stronger than the ones we have already exchanged—bodily and mentally and spiritually we are one, now and forever.”

CHAPTER XVII.

Bird, Beast, or Fish?

“These jewels rather puzzle me, Dick. What are they?” asked Martin, as the four assembled, waiting for the first meal. As he spoke he held up his third finger, upon which gleamed the royal jewel of Osnome in its splendid Belcher mounting of arenak as transparent as the jewel itself and having the same intense blue color. “I know the name, ‘faidon,’ but that’s all I seem to know.”

“That’s about all that anybody knows about them. It is a naturally-occurring, hundred-faceted crystal, just as you see it there—deep blue, perfectly transparent, intensely refractive, and constantly emitting that strong, blue light. It is so hard that it cannot be worked, cut, or ground. No amount of the hardest known abrasive will even roughen its surface. No blow, however great, will break it—it merely forces its way into the material of the hammer, however hard the hammer may be. No extremity of either heat or cold affects it in any degree, it is the same when in the most powerful electric arc as it is when immersed in liquid helium.”

“How about acids?”

“That is what I am asking myself. Osnomians aren’t much force at chemistry. I’m going to try to get hold of another one, and see if I can’t analyze it, just for fun. I can’t seem to convince myself that a real atomic structure could be that large.”

“No, it is rather large for an atom,” and turning to the two girls, “How do you like your solitaires?”

“They’re perfectly beautiful, and the Tiffany mounting is exquisite,” replied Dorothy, enthusiastically, “but they’re so awfully big! They’re as big as ten-carat diamonds, I do believe.”

“Just about,” replied Seaton, “but at that, they’re the smallest Dunark could find. They have been kicking around for years, he says—so small that nobody wanted them. They wear big ones on their bracelets, you know. You sure will make a hit in Washington, Dottie. People will think you’re wearing a bottle-stopper until they see it shining in the dark, then they’ll think it’s an automobile headlight. But after a few jewelers have seen these stones, one of them will be offering us five million dollars apiece for them, trying to buy them for some dizzy old dame who wants to put out the eyes of some of her social rivals. Yes? No?”

“That’s about right, Dick,” replied Crane, and his face wore a thoughtful look. “We can’t keep it secret that we have a new jewel, since all four of us will be wearing them continuously, and anyone who knows jewels at all will recognize these as infinitely superior to any known Earthly jewel. In fact, they may get some of us into trouble, as fabulously valuable jewels usually do.”

“That’s true, too. So we’ll let it out casually that they’re as common as mud up here—that we’re just wearing them for sentiment, which is true, and that we’re thinking of bringing back a shipload to sell for parking lights.”

“That would probably keep anyone from trying to murder our wives for their rings, at least.”

“Have you read your marriage certificate, Dick?” asked Margaret.

“Not yet. Let’s look at it, Dottie.”

She produced the massive, heavily-jeweled document, and the auburn head and the brown one were very close to each other as they read together the English side of the certificate. Their vows were there, word for word, with their own signatures beneath them, all deeply engraved into the metal. Seaton smiled as he saw the legal form engraved below their signatures, and read aloud:

“I, the Head of the Church and the Commander-in-Chief of the armed forces of Kondal, upon the planet Osnome, certify that I have this day, in the city of Kondalek, of said nation and planet, joined in indissoluble bonds of matrimony, Richard Ballinger Seaton, Doctor of Philosophy, and Dorothy Lee Vaneman; Doctor of Music; both of the city of Washington, District of Columbia, United States of America, upon the planet Earth, in strict compliance with the marriage laws, both of Kondal and of the United States of America. Tarnan.”

Witnesses:
Roban, Emperor of Kondal.
Tural, Empress of Kondal.
Dunark, Crown Prince of Kondal.
Sitar, Crown Princess of Kondal.
Marc C. DuQuesne, Ph. D., Washington, D. C.

“That is some document,” remarked Seaton. “Probably a lawyer could find fault with his phraseology, but I’ll bet that this thing would hold in any court in the world. Think you’ll get married again when we get back, Mart?”

Both girls protested, and Crane answered:

“No, I think not. Our ceremony would be rather an anticlimax after this one, and this one will undoubtedly prove legal. I intend to register this just as it is, and get a ruling from the courts. But it is time for breakfast. Pardon me—I should have said ‘darprat,’ for it certainly is not breakfast-time by Washington clocks. My watch says that it is eleven-thirty P. M.”

“This system of time is funny,” remarked Dorothy. “I just can’t get used to having no night, and.…”

“And it’s such a long time between eats, as the famous governor said about the drinks,” broke in Seaton.

“How did you know what I was going to say, Dick?”

“Husbandly intuition,” he grinned, “aided and abetted by a normal appetite that rebels at seventeen hours between supper and breakfast, and nine hours between the other meals. Well, it’s time to eat—let’s go!”

* * * *

After eating, the men hurried to the Skylark. During the sleeping-period the vessel had been banded with the copper repellers: the machine guns and instruments, including the wonderful Osnomian wireless system, had been installed; and, except for the power-bars, she was ready for a voyage. The Kondalian vessel was complete, even to the cushions, but was without instruments.

After a brief conversation with the officer in charge, Dunark turned to Seaton.

“Didn’t you find that your springs couldn’t stand up under the acceleration?”

“Yes, they flattened out dead.”

“The Kolanix Felan, in charge of the work, thought so, and substituted our compound-compensated type, made of real spring metal, for them. They’ll hold you through any acceleration you can live through.”

“Thanks, that’s fine. What’s next, instruments?”

“Yes. I have sent a crew of men to gather up what copper they can find—you know that we use practically no metallic copper, as platinum, gold, and silver are so much better for ordinary purposes—and another to erect a copper-smelter near one of the mines which supply the city with the copper sulphate used upon our tables. While they are at work I think I will work on the instruments, if you two will be kind enough to help me.”

Seaton and Crane offered to supply him with instruments from their reserve stock, but the Kofedix refused to accept them, saying that he would rather have their help in making them, so that he would thoroughly understand their functions. The electric furnaces were rapidly made ready and they set to work; Crane taking great delight in working that hitherto rare and very refractory metal, iridium, of which all the Kondalian instruments were to be made.

“They have a lot of our rare metals here, Dick.”

“They sure have. I’d like to set up a laboratory and live here a few years—I’d learn something about my specialty or burst. They use gold and silver where we use copper, and platinum and its alloys where we use iron and soft steel. All their weapons are made of iridium, and all their most highly-tempered tools, such as their knives, razors, and so on, are made of opaque arenak. I suppose you’ve noticed the edge on your razor?”

“How could I help it? It is hard to realize that a metal can be so hard that it requires forty years on a diamond-dust abrasive machine to hone a razor—or that once honed, it shaves generation after generation of men without losing in any degree its keenness.”

“I can’t understand it, either—I only know that it’s so. They have all our heavy metals in great abundance, and a lot more that we don’t know anything about on Earth, but they apparently haven’t any light metals at all. It must be that Osnome was thrown off the parent sun late, so that the light metals were all gone?”

“Something like that, possibly.”

The extraordinary skill of the Kofedix made the manufacture of the instruments a short task, and after Crane had replaced the few broken instruments of the Skylark from their reserve stock, they turned their attention to the supply of copper that had been gathered. They found it enough for only two bars.

“Is this all we have?” asked Dunark, sharply.

“It is, your Highness,” replied the Kolanix. “That is every scrap of metallic copper in the city.”

“Oh, well, that’ll be enough to last until we can smelt the rest,” said Seaton. “With one bar apiece we’re ready for anything Mardonale can start. Let ’em come!”

The bars were placed in the containers and both vessels were tried out, each making a perfect performance. Upon the following kokam, immediately after the first meal, the full party from the Earth boarded the Skylark and accompanied the Kofedix to the copper smelter. Dunark himself directed the work of preparing the charges and the molds, though he was continually being interrupted by wireless messages in code and by messengers bearing tidings too important to trust into the air.

“I hope you will excuse all of these delays,” said Dunark, after the twentieth interruption, “but.…”

“That’s all right, Dunark. We know that you’re a busy man.”

“I can tell you about it, but I wouldn’t want to tell many people. With the salt you gave us, I am preparing a power-plant that will enable us to blow Mardonale into.…”

He broke off as a wireless call for help sounded. All listened intently, learning that a freight-plane was being pursued by a karlon a few hundred miles away.

“Now’s the time for you to study one, Dunark!” Seaton exclaimed. “Get your gang of scientists out here while we go get him and drag him in!”

* * * *

As Dunark sent the message, the Skylark’s people hurried aboard, and Seaton drove the vessel toward the calls for help. With its great speed it reached the monster before the plane was overtaken. Focusing the attractor upon the enormous metallic beak of the karlon, Seaton threw on the power and the beast halted in midair as it was jerked backward and upward. As it saw the puny size of the attacking Skylark, it opened its cavernous mouth in a horrible roar and rushed at full speed. Seaton, unwilling to have the repellers stripped from the vessel, turned on the current actuating them. The karlon was hurled backward to the point of equilibrium of the two forces, where it struggled demoniacally.

Seaton carried his captive back to the smelter, where finally, by judicious pushing and pulling, he succeeded in turning the monster flat upon its back and pinning it to the ground in spite of its struggles to escape.

Soon the scientists arrived and studied the animal thoroughly, at as close a range as its flailing arms permitted.

“I wish we could kill him without blowing him to bits,” wirelessed Dunark. “Do you know any way of doing it?”

“We could if we had a few barrels of ether, or some of our own poison gases, but they are all unknown here and it would take a long time to build the apparatus to make them. I’ll see if I can’t tire him out and get him that way as soon as you’ve studied him enough. We may be able to find out where he lives, too.”

The scientists having finished their observations, Seaton jerked the animal a few miles into the air and shut off the forces acting upon it. There was a sudden crash, and the karlon, knowing that this apparently insignificant vessel was its master, turned in headlong flight.

“Have you any idea what caused the noise just then, Dick?” asked Crane; who, with characteristic imperturbability, had taken out his notebook and was making exact notes of all that transpired.

“I imagine we cracked a few of his plates,” replied Seaton with a laugh, as he held the Skylark in place a few hundred feet above the fleeing animal.

Pitted for the first time in its life against an antagonist, who could both outfly and outfight it, the karlon redoubled its efforts and fled in a panic of fear. It flew back over the city of Kondalek, over the outlying country, and out over the ocean, still followed easily by the Skylark. As they neared the Mardonalian border, a fleet of warships rose to contest the entry of the monster. Seaton, not wishing to let the foe see the rejuvenated Skylark, jerked his captive high into the thin air. As soon as it was released, it headed for the ocean in an almost perpendicular dive, while Seaton focused an object-compass upon it.

“Go to it, old top,” he addressed the plunging monster. “We’ll follow you clear to the bottom of the ocean if you go that far!”

There was a mighty double splash as the karlon struck the water, closely followed by the Skylark. The girls gasped as the vessel plunged below the surface at such terrific speed, and seemed surprised that it had suffered no injury and that they had felt no jar. Seaton turned on the powerful searchlights and kept close enough so that he could see the monster through the transparent walls. Deeper and deeper the quarry dove, until it was plainly evident to the pursuers that it was just as much at home in the water as it was in the air. The beams of the lights revealed strange forms of life, among which were huge, staring-eyed fishes, which floundered about blindly in the unaccustomed glare. As the karlon bored still deeper, the living things became scarcer, but still occasional fleeting glimpses were obtained of the living nightmares which inhabited the oppressive depths of these strange seas. Continuing downward, the karlon plumbed the nethermost pit of the ocean and came to rest upon the bottom, stirring up a murk of ooze.

“How deep are we, Mart?”

“About four miles. I have read the pressure, but will have to calculate later exactly what depth it represents, from the gravity and density readings.”

As the animal showed no sign of leaving its retreat, Seaton pulled it out with the attractor and it broke for the surface. Rising through the water at full speed, it burst into the air and soared upward to such an incredible height that Seaton was amazed.

“I wouldn’t have believed that anything could fly in air this thin!” he exclaimed.

“It is thin up here,” assented Crane. “Less than three pounds to the square inch. I wonder how he does it?”

“It doesn’t look as though we are ever going to find out—he’s sure a bear-cat!” replied Seaton, as the karlon, unable to ascend further, dropped in a slanting dive toward the lowlands of Kondal—the terrible, swampy region covered with poisonous vegetation and inhabited by frightful animals and even more frightful savages. The monster neared the ground with ever-increasing speed. Seaton, keeping close behind it, remarked to Crane:

“He’ll have to flatten out pretty quick, or he’ll burst something, sure.”

* * * *

But it did not flatten out. It struck the soft ground head foremost and disappeared, its tentacles apparently boring a way ahead of it.

Astonished at such an unlooked-for development, Seaton brought the Skylark to a stop and stabbed into the ground with the attractor. The first attempt brought up nothing but a pillar of muck, the second brought to light a couple of wings and one writhing arm, the third brought the whole animal, still struggling as strongly as it had in the first contest. Seaton again lifted the animal high into the air.

“If he does that again, we’ll follow him.”

“Will the ship stand it?” asked DuQuesne, with interest.

“Yes. The old bus wouldn’t have, but this one can stand anything. We can go anywhere that thing can, that’s a cinch. If we have enough power on, we probably won’t even feel a jolt when we strike ground.”

Seaton reduced the force acting upon the animal until just enough was left to keep the attractor upon it, and it again dived into the swamp. The Skylark followed, feeling its way in the total darkness, until the animal stopped, refusing to move in any direction, at a depth estimated by Crane to be about three-quarters of a mile. After waiting some time Seaton increased the power of the attractor and tore the karlon back to the surface and into the air, where it turned on the Skylark with redoubled fury.

“We’ve dug him out of his last refuge and he’s fighting like a cornered rat,” said Seaton as he repelled the monster to a safe distance. “He’s apparently as fresh as when he started, in spite of all this playing. Talk about a game fish! He doesn’t intend to run any more, though, so I guess we’ll have to put him away. It’s a shame to bump him off, but it’s got to be done.”

Crane aimed one of the heavy X-plosive bullets at the savagely-struggling monster, and the earth rocked with the concussion as the shell struck its mark. They hurried back to the smelter, where Dunark asked eagerly:

“What did you find out about it?”

“Nothing much,” replied Seaton, and in a few words described the actions of the karlon. “What did your savants think of it?”

“Very little that any of us can understand in terms of any other known organism. It seems to combine all the characteristics of bird, beast, and fish, and to have within itself the possibilities of both bisexual and asexual reproduction.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it—it’s a queer one, all right.”

The copper bars were cool enough to handle, and the Skylark was loaded with five times its original supply of copper, the other vessel taking on a much smaller amount. After the Kofedix had directed the officer in charge to place the remaining bars in easily-accessible places throughout the nation, the two vessels were piloted back to the palace, arriving just in time for the last meal of the kokam.

“Well, Dunark,” said Seaton after the meal was over, “I’m afraid that we must go back as soon as we can. Dorothy’s parents and Martin’s bankers will think they are dead by this time. We should start right now, but.…”

“Oh, no, you must not do that. That would rob our people of the chance of bidding you goodbye.”

“There’s another reason, too. I have a mighty big favor to ask of you.”

“It is granted. If man can do it, consider it done.”

“Well, you know platinum is a very scarce and highly useful metal with us. I wonder if you could let us have a few tons of it? And I would like to have another faidon, too—I want to see if I can’t analyze it.”

“You have given us a thousand times the value of all the platinum and all the jewels your vessel can carry. As soon as the foundries are open tomorrow we will go and load up your store-rooms—or, if you wish, we will do it now.”

“That isn’t necessary. We may as well enjoy your hospitality for one more sleeping-period, get the platinum during the first work-period, and bid you goodbye just before the second meal. How would that be?”

“Perfectly satisfactory.”

The following kokam, Dunark piloted the Skylark, with Seaton, Crane, and DuQuesne as crew, to one of the great platinum foundries. The girls remained behind to get ready for their departure, and for the great ceremony which was to precede it. The trip to the foundry was a short one, and the three scientists of Earth stared at what they saw—thousands of tons of platinum, cast into bars and piled up like pig-iron, waiting to be made into numerous articles of every-day use throughout the nation. Dunark wrote out an order, which his chief attendant handed to the officer in charge of the foundry, saying:

“Please have it loaded at once.”

Seaton indicated the storage compartment into which the metal was to be carried, and a procession of slaves, two men staggering under one ingot, was soon formed between the pile and the storage room.

* * * *

“How much are you loading on, Dunark?” asked Seaton, when the large compartment was more than half full.

“My order called for about twenty tons, in your weight, but I changed it later—we may as well fill that room full, so that the metal will not rattle around in flight. It doesn’t make any difference to us, we have so much of it. It is like your gift of the salt, only vastly smaller.”

“What are you going to do with it all, Dick?” asked Crane. “That is enough to break the platinum market completely.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” returned Seaton, with a gleam in his gray eyes. “I’m going to burst this unjustifiable fad for platinum jewelry so wide open that it’ll never recover, and make platinum again available for its proper uses, in laboratories and in the industries.

“You know yourself,” he rushed on hotly, “that the only reason platinum is used at all for jewelry is that it is expensive. It isn’t nearly so handsome as either gold or silver, and if it wasn’t the most costly common metal we have, the jewelry-wearing crowd wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. Useless as an ornament, it is the one absolutely indispensable laboratory metal, and literally hundreds of laboratories that need it can’t have it because over half the world’s supply is tied up in jeweler’s windows and in useless baubles. Then, too, it is the best thing known for contact points in electrical machinery. When the Government and all the scientific societies were abjectly begging the jewelers to let loose a little of it they refused—they were selling it to profiteering spendthrifts at a hundred and fifty dollars an ounce. The condition isn’t much better right now; it’s a vicious circle. As long as the price stays high it will be used for jewelry, and as long as it is used for jewelry the price will stay high, and scientists will have to fight the jewelers for what little they get.”

“While somewhat exaggerated, that is about the way matters stand. I will admit that I, too, am rather bitter on the subject,” said Crane.

“Bitter? Of course you’re bitter. Everybody is who knows anything about science and who has a brain in his head. Anybody who claims to be a scientist and yet stands for any of his folks buying platinum jewelry ought to be shot. But they’ll get theirs as soon as we get back. They wouldn’t let go of it before, they had too good a thing, but they’ll let go now, and get their fingers burned besides. I’m going to dump this whole shipment at fifty cents a pound, and we’ll take mighty good care that jewelers don’t corner the supply.”

“I’m with you, Dick, as usual.”

Soon the storage room was filled to the ceiling with closely-stacked ingots of the precious metal, and the Skylark was driven back to the landing dock. She alighted beside Dunark’s vessel, the Kondal, whose gorgeously-decorated crew of high officers sprang to attention as the four men stepped out. All were dressed for the ceremonial leave-taking, the three Americans wearing their spotless white, the Kondalians wearing their most resplendent trappings.

“This formal stuff sure does pull my cork!” exclaimed Seaton to Dunark. “I want to get this straight. The arrangement was that we were to be here at this time, all dressed up, and wait for the ladies, who are coming under the escort of your people?”

“Yes. Our family is to escort the ladies from the palace here. As they leave the elevator the surrounding war-vessels will salute, and after a brief ceremony you two will escort your wives into the Skylark, Doctor DuQuesne standing a little apart and following you in. The war-vessels will escort you as high as they can go, and the Kondal will accompany you as far as our most distant sun before turning back.”

For a few moments Seaton nervously paced a short beat in front of the door of the space-car.

“I’m getting more fussed every second,” he said abruptly, taking out his wireless instrument. “I’m going to see if they aren’t about ready.”

“What seems to be the trouble, Dick? Have you another hunch, or are you just rattled?” asked Crane.

“Rattled, I guess, but I sure do want to get going,” he replied, as he worked the lever rapidly.

“Dottie,” he sent out, and, the call being answered, “How long will you be? We’re all ready and waiting, chewing our finger-nails with impatience.”

“We’ll soon be ready. The Karfedix is coming for us now.”

Scarcely had the tiny sounder become silent when the air was shaken by an urgently-vibrated message, and every wireless sounder gave warning.

CHAPTER XVIII

The Invasion

The pulsating air and the chattering sounders were giving the same dire warning, the alarm extraordinary of invasion, of imminent and catastrophic danger from the air.

“Don’t try to reach the palace. Everyone on the ground will have time enough to hide in the deep, arenak-protected pits beneath the buildings, and you would be killed by the invaders long before you could reach the palace. If we can repel the enemy and keep them from landing, the women will be perfectly safe, even though the whole city is destroyed. If they effect a landing we are lost.”

“They’ll not land, then,” Seaton answered grimly, as he sprang into the Skylark and took his place at the board. As Crane took out his wireless, Seaton cautioned him.

“Send in English, and tell the girls not to answer, as these devils can locate the calls within a foot and will be able to attack the right spot. Just tell them we’re safe in the Skylark. Tell them to sit tight while we wipe out this gang that is coming, and that we’ll call them, once in a while, when we have time, during the battle.”

Before Crane had finished sending the message the crescendo whine of enormous propellers was heard. Simultaneously there was a deafening concussion and one entire wing of the palace disappeared in a cloud of dust, in the midst of which could be discerned a few flying fragments. The air was filled with Mardonalian warships. They were huge vessels, each mounting hundreds of guns, and the rain of high-explosive shells was rapidly reducing the great city to a wide-spread heap of debris.

Seaton’s hand was upon the lever which would hurl the Skylark upward into the fray. Crane and DuQuesne, each hard of eye and grim of jaw, were stationed at their machine-guns.

“Something’s up!” exclaimed Seaton. “Look at the Kondal!”

Something had happened indeed. Dunark sat at the board, his hand upon the power lever, and each of his crew was in place, grasping his weapon, but every man was writhing in agony, unable to control his movements. As they stared, momentarily spellbound, the entire crew ceased their agonized struggles and hung, apparently lifeless, from their supports.

“They’ve got to ’em some way—let’s go!” yelled Seaton.

As his hand tightened upon the lever, a succession of shells burst upon the dock, wrecking it completely, all three men fancied that the world had come to an end as the stream of high explosive was directed against their vessel. But the four-foot shell of arenak was impregnable, and Seaton shot the Skylark upward into the midst of the enemy fleet. The two gunners fired as fast as they could sight their weapons, and with each shot one of the great warships was blown into fragments. The Mardonalians then concentrated the fire of their entire fleet upon their tiny opponent.

From every point of the compass, from above and below, the enemy gunners directed streams of shells against the dodging vessel. The noise was more than deafening, it was one continuous, shattering explosion, and the Earth-men were surrounded by such a blaze of fire from the exploding shells that they could not see the enemy vessels. Seaton sought to dodge the shells by a long dive toward one side, only to find that dozens of new opponents had been launched against them—the deadly airplane-torpedoes of Osnome. Steered by wireless and carrying no crews, they were simply winged bombs carrying thousands of pounds of terrific electrical explosive—enough to kill the men inside the vessel by the concussion of the explosion, even should the arenak armor be strong enough to withstand the blow. Though much faster than the Osnomian vessels, they were slow beside the Skylark, and Seaton could have dodged a few of them with ease. As he dodged, however, they followed relentlessly, and in spite of those which were blown up by the gunners, their number constantly increased until Seaton thought of the repellers.

“‘Nobody Holme’ is right!” he exclaimed, as he threw on the power actuating the copper bands which encircled the hull in all directions. Instantly the torpedoes were hurled backward, exploding as the force struck them, and even the shells were ineffective, exploding harmlessly, as they encountered the zone of force. The noise of the awful detonations lessened markedly.

“Why the silence, I wonder?” asked Seaton, while the futile shells of the enemy continued to waste their force some hundreds of feet distant from their goal, and while Crane and DuQuesne were methodically destroying the huge vessels as fast as they could aim and fire. At every report one of the monster warships disappeared—its shattered fragments and the bodies of its crew hurtling to the ground. His voice could not be heard in even the lessened tumult, but he continued:

“It must be that our repellers have set up a partial vacuum by repelling even the air!”

* * * *

Suddenly the shelling ceased and the Skylark was enveloped by a blinding glare from hundreds of great reflectors; an intense, searching, bluish-violet light that burned the flesh and seared through eyelids and eyeballs into the very brain.

“Ultra-violet!” yelled Seaton at the first glimpse of the light, as he threw on the power. “Shut your eyes! Turn your heads down!”

Out in space, far beyond reach of the deadly rays, the men held a short conference, then donned heavy leather-and-canvas suits, which they smeared liberally with thick red paint, and replaced the plain glasses of their helmets with heavy lenses of deep ruby glass.

“This’ll stop any ultra-violet ray ever produced,” exulted Seaton, as he again threw the vessel into the Mardonalian fleet. A score of the great vessels met their fate before the Skylark was located, and, although the terrible rays were again focused upon the intruder in all their intensity, the carnage continued.

In a few minutes, however, the men heard, or rather felt, a low, intense vibration, like a silent wave of sound—a vibration which smote upon the eardrums as no possible sound could smite, a vibration which racked the joints and tortured the nerves as though the whole body were disintegrating. So sudden and terrible was the effect that Seaton uttered an involuntary yelp of surprise and pain as he once more fled into the safety of space.

“What the devil was that?” demanded DuQuesne. “Was it infra-sound? I didn’t suppose such waves could be produced.”

“Infra-sound is right. They produce most anything here,” replied Seaton, and Crane added:

“Well, about three fur suits apiece, with cotton in our ears, ought to kill any wave propagated through air.”

The fur suits were donned forthwith, Seaton whispering in Crane’s ear:

“I’ve found out something else, too. The repellers repel even the air. I’m going to shoot enough juice through them to set up a perfect vacuum outside. That’ll kill those air-waves.”

Scarcely were they back within range of the fleet when DuQuesne, reaching for his gun to fire the first shot, leaped backward with a yell.

“Beat it!”

Once more at a safe distance, DuQuesne explained.

“It’s lucky I’m so used to handling hot stuff that from force of habit I never make close contact with anything at the first touch. That gun carried thousands of volts, with lots of amperage behind them, and if I had had a good hold on it I couldn’t have let go. We’ll block that game quick enough, though. Thick, dry gloves covered with rubber are all that is necessary. It’s a good thing for all of us that you have those fancy condensite handles on your levers, Seaton.”

“That was how they got Dunark, undoubtedly,” said Crane, as he sent a brief message to the girls, assuring them that all was well, as he had been doing at every respite. “But why were we not overcome at the same time?”

“They must have had the current tuned to iridium, and had to experiment until they found the right wave for steel,” Seaton explained.

“I should think our bar would have exploded, with all that current. They must have hit the copper range, too?”

Seaton frowned in thought before he answered.

“Maybe because it’s induced current, and not a steady battery impulse. Anyway, it didn’t. Let’s go!”

“Just a minute,” put in Crane. “What are they going to do next, Dick?”

“Search me. I’m not used to my new Osnomian mind yet. I recognize things all right after they happen, but I can’t seem to figure ahead—it’s like a dimly-remembered something that flashes up as soon as mentioned. I get too many and too new ideas at once. I know, though, that the Osnomians have defenses against all these things except this last stunt of the charged guns. That must be the new one that Mardonale stole from Kondal. The defenses are, however, purely Osnomian in character and material. As we haven’t got the stuff to set them up as the Osnomians do, we’ll have to do it our own way. We may be able to dope out the next one, though. Let’s see, what have they given us so far?”

“We’ve got to hand it to them,” responded DuQuesne, admiringly. “They’re giving us the whole range of wave-lengths, one at a time. They’ve given us light, both ultra-violet and visible, sound, infra-sound, and electricity—I don’t know what’s left unless they give us a new kind of X-rays, or Hertzian, or infra-red heat waves, or.…”

“That’s it, heat!” exclaimed Seaton. “They produce heat by means of powerful wave-generators and by setting up heavy induced currents in the armor. They can melt arenak that way.”

“Do you suppose we can handle the heat with our refrigerators?” asked Crane.

“Probably. We have a lot of power, and the new arenak cylinders of our compressors will stand anything. The only trouble will be in cooling the condensers. We’ll run as long as we have any water in our tanks, then go dive into the ocean to cool off. We’ll try it a whirl, anyway.”

* * * *

Soon the Skylark was again dealing out death and destruction in the thick of the enemy vessels, who again turned from the devastation of the helpless city to destroy this troublesome antagonist. But in spite of the utmost efforts of light-waves, sound-waves, and high-tension electricity, the space-car continued to take its terrible toll. As Seaton had foretold, the armor of the Skylark began to grow hot, and he turned on the full power of the refrigerating system. In spite of the cooling apparatus, however, the outer walls finally began to glow redly, and, although the interior was comfortably cool, the ends of the rifle-barrels, which were set flush with the surface of the revolving arenak globes which held them, softened, rendering the guns useless. The copper repellers melted and dripped off in flaming balls of molten metal, so that shells once more began to crash against the armor. DuQuesne, with no thought of quitting apparent in voice or manner, said calmly:

“Well, it looks as though they had us stopped for a few minutes. Let’s go back into space and dope out something else.”

Seaton, thinking intensely, saw a vast fleet of enemy reinforcements approaching, and at the same time received a wireless call directed to Dunark. It was from the grand fleet of Kondal, hastening from the bordering ocean to the defense of the city. Using Dunark’s private code, Seaton told the Karbix, who was in charge of the fleet, that the enemy had a new invention which would wipe them out utterly without a chance to fight, and that he and his vessel were in control of the situation; and ordered him to see that no Kondalian ship came within battle range of a Mardonalian. He then turned to Crane and DuQuesne, his face grim and his fighting jaw set.

“I’ve got it doped right now. Give the Lark speed enough and she’s some bullet herself. We’ve got four feet of arenak, they’ve got only an inch, and arenak doesn’t even begin to soften until far above a blinding white temperature. Strap yourselves in solid, for it’s going to be a rough party from now on.”

They buckled their belts firmly, and Seaton, holding the bar toward their nearest antagonist, applied twenty notches of power. The Skylark darted forward and crashed completely through the great airship. Torn wide open by the forty-foot projectile, its engines wrecked and its helicopter-screws and propellers completely disabled, the helpless hulk plunged through two miles of empty air, a mass of wreckage.

The Skylark darted forward and crashed completely through the great airship.… She was an embodied thunderbolt; a huge, irresistible, indestructible projectile, directed by a keen brain inside.…

Darting hither and thither, the space-car tore through vessel after vessel of the Mardonalian fleet. She was an embodied thunderbolt; a huge, irresistible, indestructible projectile, directed by a keen brain inside it—the brain of Richard Seaton, roused to his highest fighting pitch and fighting for everything that man holds dear. Tortured by the terrible silent waves, which, now that the protecting vacuum had been destroyed, were only partially stopped by the fur suits; shaken and battered by the terrific impacts and the even greater shocks occurring every second as the direction of the vessel was changed; made sick and dizzy by the nauseating swings and lurches as the Skylark spun about the central chamber; Seaton’s wonderful physique and his nerves of steel stood him in good stead in this, the supreme battle of his life, as with teeth tight-locked and eyes gray and hard as the fracture of high-carbon steel, he urged the Skylark on to greater and greater efforts.

Though it was impossible for the eye to follow the flight of the space-car, the mechanical sighting devices of the Mardonalian vessels kept her in as perfect focus as though she were stationary, and the great generators continued to hurl into her the full power of their death-dealing waves. The enemy guns were still spitting forth their streams of high-explosive shells, but unlike the waves, the shells moved so slowly compared to their target that only a few found their mark, and many of the vessels fell to the ground, riddled by the shells of their sister-ships.

* * * *

With anxious eyes Seaton watched the hull of his animated cannon-ball change in color. From dull red it became cherry, and as the cherry red gave place to bright red heat, Seaton threw even more power into the bar as he muttered through his set teeth:

“Well, Seaton, old top, you’ve got to cut out this loafing on the job and get busy!”

In spite of his utmost exertions and in spite of the powerful ammonia plant, now exerting its full capacity, but sadly handicapped by the fact that its cooling-water was now boiling, Seaton saw the arenak shell continue to heat. The bright red was succeeded by orange, which slowly changed, first to yellow, then to light yellow, and finally to a dazzling white; through which, with the aid of his heavy red lenses, he could still see the enemy ships. After a time he noted that the color had gone down to yellow and he thrilled with exultation, knowing that he had so reduced the numbers of the enemy fleet that their wave-generators could no longer overcome his refrigerators. After a few minutes more of the awful carnage there remained only a small fraction of the proud fleet which, thousands strong, had invaded Kondal—a remnant that sought safety in flight. But even in flight, they still fought with all their weapons, and the streams of bombs dropped from their keel-batteries upon the country beneath marked the path of their retreat with a wide swath of destruction. Half inclined to let the few remaining vessels escape, Seaton’s mind changed instantly as he saw the bombs spreading devastation upon the countryside, and not until the last of the Mardonalian vessels had been destroyed did he drop the Skylark into the area of ruins which had once been the palace grounds, beside the Kondal, which was still lying as it had fallen.

After several attempts to steady their whirling senses, the three men finally were able to walk, and, opening a door, they leaped out through the opening in the still glowing wall. Seaton’s first act was to wireless the news to Dorothy, who replied that they were coming as fast as they could. The men then removed their helmets, revealing faces pale and drawn, and turned to the helpless space-car.

“There’s no way of getting into this thing from the outside.…” Seaton began, when he saw that the Kofedix and his party were beginning to revive. Soon Dunark opened the door and stumbled out.

“I have to thank you for more than my life this time,” he said, his voice shaken by uncontrollable emotion as he grasped the hands of all three men. “Though unable to move, I was conscious and saw all that happened—you kept them so busy that they didn’t have a chance to give us enough to kill us outright. You have saved the lives of millions of our nation and have saved Kondal itself from annihilation.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” answered Seaton, uncomfortably. “Both nations have been invaded before.”

“Yes—once when we developed the ultra-violet ray, once when Mardonale perfected the machine for producing the silent sound-wave, and again when we harnessed the heat-wave. But this would have been the most complete disaster in history. The other inventions were not so deadly as was this one, and there were terrible battles, from which the victors emerged so crippled that they could not completely exterminate the vanquished, who were able to re-establish themselves in the course of time. If it had not been for you, this would have been the end, as not a Kondalian soldier could move—any person touching iridium was helpless and would have been killed.”

He ceased speaking and saluted as the Karfedix and his party rounded a heap of boulders. Dorothy and Margaret screamed in unison as they saw the haggard faces of their husbands, and saw their suits, dripping with a thick substance which they knew to be red, in spite of its purplish-black color. Seaton dodged nimbly as Dorothy sought to take him in her arms, and tore off his suit.

“Nothing but red paint to stop their light-rays,” he reassured her as he lifted her clear from the ground in a soul-satisfying embrace. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the Kondalians staring in open-mouthed amazement at the Skylark. Wheeling swiftly, he laughed as he saw a gigantic ball of frost and snow! Again donning his fur suit, he shut off the refrigerators and returned to his party, where the Karfedix gave him thanks in measured terms. As he fell silent, Dunark added:

“Thanks to you, the Mardonalian forces, instead of wiping us out, are themselves destroyed, while only a handful of our vessels have been lost, since the grand fleet could not arrive until the battle was over, and since the vessels that would have thrown themselves away were saved by your orders, which I heard. Thanks to you, we are not even crippled, though our capital is destroyed and the lives of some unfortunates, who could not reach the pits in time, have probably been lost.

“Thanks to you,” he continued in a ringing voice, “and to the salt and the new source of power you have given us, Mardonale shall now be destroyed utterly!”

After sending out ships to relieve the suffering of the few wounded and the many homeless, Dunark summoned a corps of mechanics, who banded on new repellers and repaired the fused barrels of the machine-guns, all that was necessary to restore the Skylark to perfect condition.

* * * *

Facing the party from Earth, the Karfedix stood in the ruins of his magnificent palace. Back of him were the nobles of Kondal, and still further back, in order of rank, stood a multitude of people.

“Is it permitted, oh noble Karfedo, that I reward your captive for his share in the victory?” he asked.

“It is,” acquiesced Seaton and Crane, and Roban stepped up to DuQuesne and placed in his hand a weighty leather bag. He then fastened about his left wrist the Order of Kondal, the highest order of the nation.

He then clasped about Crane’s wrist a heavily-jeweled, peculiarly-ornamented disk wrought of a deep ruby-red metal, supported by a heavy bracelet of the same material, the most precious metal of Osnome. At sight of the disk the nobles saluted and Seaton barely concealed a start of surprise, for it bore the royal emblem and delegated to its bearer power second only to that of the Karfedix himself.

“I bestow upon you this symbol, Karfedix Crane, in recognition of what you have this day done for Kondal. Wherever you may be upon Kondalian Osnome, which from this day henceforth shall be all Osnome, you have power as my personal representative, as my eldest son.”

He drew forth a second bracelet, similar to the first except that it bore seven disks, each differently designed, which he snapped upon Seaton’s wrist as the nobles knelt and the people back of them threw themselves upon their faces.

“No language spoken by man possesses words sufficiently weighty to express our indebtedness to you, Karfedix Seaton, our guest and our savior. The First Cause has willed that you should be the instrument through which Kondal is this day made supreme upon Osnome.

In small and partial recognition of that instrumentality, I bestow upon you these symbols, which proclaim you our overlord, the ultimate authority of Osnome.

While this is not the way in which I had thought to bid you farewell, the obligations which you have heaped upon us render all smaller things insignificant. When you return, as I hope and trust you soon will, the city shall be built anew and we can welcome you as befits your station.”

Lifting both arms above his head he continued:

“May the great First Cause smile upon you in all your endeavors until you solve the Mystery: may your descendants soon reach the Ultimate Goal. Goodbye.”

Seaton uttered a few heartfelt words in response and the party stepped backward toward the Skylark. As they reached the vessel the standing Karfedix and the ranks of kneeling nobles snapped into the double salute—truly a rare demonstration in Kondal.

“What’ll we do now?” whispered Seaton.

“Bow, of course,” answered Dorothy.

They bowed, deeply and slowly, and entered their vessel. As the Skylark shot into the air with the greatest acceleration that would permit its passengers to move about, the grand fleet of Kondalian warship fired a deafening salute.

* * * *

It had been planned before the start that each person was to work sixteen hours out of the twenty-four. Seaton was to drive the vessel during the first two eight-hour periods of each day. Crane was to observe the stars during the second and to drive during the third. DuQuesne was to act as observer during the first and third periods. Margaret had volunteered to assist the observer in taking his notes during her waking hours, and Dorothy appointed herself cook and household manager.

As soon as the Skylark had left Osnome, Crane told DuQuesne that he and his wife would work in the observation room until four o’clock in the afternoon, at which time the prearranged system of relief would begin, and DuQuesne retired to his room.

Crane and Margaret made their way to the darkened room which housed the instruments and seated themselves, watching intently and making no effort to conceal their emotion as first the persons beneath them, then the giant war-vessels, and finally the ruined city itself, were lost to view. Osnome slowly assumed the proportions of a large moon, grew smaller, and as it disappeared Crane began to take notes. For a few hours the seventeen suns of this strange solar system shone upon the flying space-car, after which they assumed the aspect of a widely-separated cluster of enormous stars, slowly growing smaller and smaller and shrinking closer and closer together.

At four o’clock in the afternoon, Washington time, DuQuesne relieved Crane, who made his way to the engine room.

“It is time to change shifts, Dick. You have not had your sixteen hours, but everything will be regular from now on. You two had better get some rest.”

“All right,” replied Seaton, as he relinquished the controls to Crane, and after bidding the new helmsman goodnight he and Dorothy went below to their cabin.

Standing at a window with their arms around each other they stared down with misty eyes at the very faint green star, which was rapidly decreasing in brilliance as the Skylark increased its already inconceivable velocity. Finally, as it disappeared altogether, Seaton turned to his wife and tenderly, lovingly, took her in his arms.

“Littlest Girl.… Sweetheart.…” he whispered, and paused, overcome by the intensity of his feelings.

“I know, husband mine,” she answered, while tears dimmed her glorious eyes. “It is too deep. With nothing but words, we can’t say a single thing.”

CHAPTER XIX

The Return to Earth

DuQuesne’s first act upon gaining the privacy of his own cabin was to open the leather bag presented to him by the Karfedix. He expected to find it filled with rare metals, with perhaps some jewels, instead of which the only metal present was a heavily-insulated tube containing a full pound of metallic radium. The least valuable items in the bag were scores of diamonds, rubies, and emeralds of enormous size and of flawless perfection. Merely ornamental glass upon Osnome, Dunark knew that they were priceless upon Earth, and had acted accordingly. To this great wealth of known gems, he had added a rich and varied assortment of the rare and strange jewels peculiar to his own world, the faidon alone being omitted from the collection. DuQuesne’s habitual calmness of mind almost deserted him as he classified the contents of the bag.

The radium alone was worth millions of dollars, and the scientist in him exulted that at last his brother scientists should have ample supplies of that priceless metal with which to work, even while he was rejoicing in the price he would exact for it. He took out the familiar jewels, estimating their value as he counted them—a staggering total. The bag was still half full of the strange gems, some of them glowing like miniature lamps in the dark depths, and he made no effort to appraise them. He knew that once any competent jeweler had compared their cold, hard, scintillating beauty with that of any Earthly gems, he could demand his own price.

“At last,” he breathed to himself, “I will be what I have always longed to be—a money power. Now I can cut loose from that gang of crooks and go my own way.”

He replaced the gems and the tube of radium in the bag, which he stowed away in one of his capacious pockets, and made his way to the galley.

* * * *

The return voyage through space was uneventful, the Skylark constantly maintaining the same velocity with which she had started out. Several times, as the days wore on, she came within the zone of attraction of various gigantic suns, but the pilot had learned his lesson. He kept a vigilant eye upon the bar, and at the first sign of a deviation from the perpendicular he steered away, far from the source of the attraction. Not content with these precautions, the man at the board would, from time to time, shut off the power, to make sure that the space-car was not falling toward a body directly in its line of flight.

When half the distance had been covered, the bar was reversed, the travelers holding an impromptu ceremony as the great vessel spun around its center through an angle of one hundred and eighty degrees. A few days later the observers began to recognize some of the fixed stars in familiar constellations and knew that the yellowish-white star directly in their line of flight was the sun of their own solar system. After a time they saw that their course, instead of being directly toward that rapidly-brightening star, was bearing upon a barely visible star a little to one side of it. Pointing their most powerful telescope toward that point of light, Crane made out a planet, half of its disk shining brightly. The girls hastened to peer through the telescope, and they grew excited as they made out the familiar outlines of the continents and oceans upon the lighted portion of the disk.

It was not long until these outlines were plainly visible to the unaided vision. The Earth appeared as a great, softly shining, greenish half-moon, with parts of its surface obscured by fleecy wisps of cloud, and with its two gleaming ice-caps making of its poles two brilliant areas of white. The returning wanderers stared at their own world with their hearts in their throats as Crane, who was at the board, increased the retarding force sufficiently to assure himself that they would not be traveling too fast to land upon the Earth.

After Dorothy and Margaret had gone to prepare a meal, DuQuesne turned to Seaton.

“Have you gentlemen decided what you intend to do with me?”

“No. We haven’t discussed it yet. I can’t make up my own mind what I want to do to you, except that I sure would like to get you inside a square ring with four-ounce gloves on. You have been of too much real assistance on this trip for us to see you hanged, as you deserve. On the other hand, you are altogether too much of a thorough-going scoundrel for us to let you go free. You see the fix we are in. What would you suggest?”

“Nothing,” replied DuQuesne calmly. “As I am in no danger whatever of hanging, nothing you can say on that score affects me in the least. As for freeing me, you may do as you please—it makes no difference to me, one way or the other, as no jail can hold me for a day. I can say, however, that while I have made a fortune on this trip, so that I do not have to associate further with Steel unless it is to my interest to do so, I may nevertheless find it desirable at some future time to establish a monopoly of X. That would, of course, necessitate the death of yourself and Crane. In that event, or in case any other difference should arise between us, this whole affair will be as though it had never existed. It will have no weight either way, whether or not you try to hang me.”

“Go as far as you like,” Seaton answered cheerfully. “If we’re not a match for you and your gang, on foot or in the air, in body or in mind, we’ll deserve whatever we get. We can outrun you, outjump you, throw you down, or lick you; we can run faster, hit harder, dive deeper, and come up dryer, than you can. We’ll play any game you want to deal, whenever you want to deal it; for fun, money, chalk, or marbles.”

His brow darkened in anger as a thought struck him, and the steady gray eyes bored into the unflinching black ones as he continued, with no trace of his former levity in his voice:

“But listen to this. Anything goes as far as Martin and I personally are concerned. But I want you to know that I could be arrested for what I think of you as a man; and if any of your little schemes touch Dottie or Peggy in any way, shape or form, I’ll kill you as I would a snake—or rather, I’ll take you apart as I would any other piece of scientific apparatus. This isn’t a threat, it’s a promise. Get me?”

“Perfectly. Good-night.”

For many hours the Earth had been obscured by clouds, so that the pilot had only a general idea of what part of the world was beneath them, but as they dropped rapidly downward into the twilight zone, the clouds parted and they saw that they were directly over the Panama Canal. Seaton allowed the Skylark to fall to within ten miles of the ground, when he stopped so that Martin could get his bearings and calculate the course to Washington, which would be in total darkness before their arrival.

DuQuesne had retired, cold and reticent as usual. Glancing quickly about his cabin to make sure that he had overlooked nothing he could take with him, he opened a locker, exposing to view four suits which he had made in his spare time, each adapted to a particular method of escape from the Skylark. The one he selected was of heavy canvas, braced with steel netting, equipped with helmet and air-tanks, and attached to a strong, heavy parachute. He put it on, tested all its parts, and made his way unobserved to one of the doors in the lower part of the vessel. Thus, when the chance for escape came, he was ready for it. As the Skylark paused over the Isthmus, his lips parted in a sardonic smile. He opened the door and stepped out into the air, closing the door behind him as he fell. The neutral color of the parachute was lost in the gathering twilight a few seconds after he left the vessel.

The course laid, Seaton turned almost due north and the Skylark tore through the air. After a short time, when half the ground had been covered, Seaton spoke suddenly.

“Forgot about DuQuesne, Mart. We’d better iron him, hadn’t we? Then we’ll decide whether we want to keep him or turn him loose.”

“I will go fetch him,” replied Crane, and turned to the stairs.

He returned shortly, with the news of the flight of the captive.

“Hm…he must have made himself a parachute. I didn’t think even he would tackle a sixty-thousand-foot drop. I’ll tell the world that he sure has established a record. I can’t say I’m sorry that he got away, though. We can get him again any time we want him, anyway, as that little object-compass in my drawer is still looking right at him,” said Seaton.

“I think he earned his liberty,” declared Dorothy, stoutly, and Margaret added:

“He deserves to be shot, but I’m glad he’s gone. He gives me the shivers.”

At the end of the calculated time they saw the lights of a large city beneath them, and Crane’s fingers clenched upon Seaton’s arm as he pointed downward. There were the landing-lights of Crane Field, seven peculiarly-arranged searchlights throwing their mighty beams upward into the night.

“Nine weeks, Dick,” he said, unsteadily, “and Shiro would have kept them burning nine years if necessary.”

The Skylark dropped easily to the ground in front of the testing shed and the wanderers leaped out, to be greeted by the half-hysterical Jap. Shiro’s ready vocabulary of peculiar but sonorous words failed him completely, and he bent himself double in a bow, his yellow face wreathed in the widest possible smile. Crane, one arm around his wife, seized Shiro’s hand and wrung it in silence. Seaton swept Dorothy off her feet, pressing her slender form against his powerful body. Her arms tightened about his neck as they kissed each other fervently and he whispered in her ear:

“Sweetheart wife, isn’t it great to be back on our good old Earth again?”