Start to the Moon
Kosloff came into Joan’s room, and surveyed her with sneering eyes.
“Get ready! Quick! There is no time to lose. You are going with us.”
“Going with you? Where?”
Joan felt a sudden depression creep over her. Was this man going to
separate her from her brother?
“Ask the general, or wait and find out. I have my instructions.”
With another sneer Kosloff turned to the door, paused, and looked
back, and added:
“I am coming back in less than half an hour for you.”
“I must get word to Julian or Billy,” Joan gasped. “Where can they be
taking me? Once separated from my friends my life will be a constant
misery.”
She paused in her cogitations, and began to tremble. What could be
ahead of her? She did not find out, and threw herself across her bed.
She was still lying with her head buried in the bedspread when Kosloff
returned. This time he was accompanied by several guards, who were
none too polite. They lifted the girl in their arms, and carried her
aboard a large airship. While they were taking her up a steel-like
ladder Joan had an opportunity to observe the machine carefully. It
was the biggest thing she had ever seen in the way of an aircraft,
being eight hundred yards long, three hundred feet wide. In shape it
was an elongated cylinder, and she knew enough about modern metal to
discover that it was made of beryllium—a wonderful new material
impervious to heat or cold. The walls were hollow, and heavily armored
so that it was proof against the strongest shells. The openings were
sliding doors with an inner door of glass. Thus, when the outer door
was closed, the entire ship seemed compactly built without an opening.
It was propelled by rockets fired from long metal tubes located in the
bow, in the stern, and on both sides.
With rude hands her captors shoved her through an open door and along
a narrow companionway to a small cabin daintily and charmingly
furnished. Here they threw her on the floor and departed, slamming the
door behind them. The second they were gone she sprang to her feet.
When she tested the door she found that it had locked so that it would
be impossible to break out of the cabin. Then she began a search for a
window. There was none, and she ran around and around the small
chamber like a frightened rat without getting anywhere.
Presently she began to beat the walls with her clenched hands. She did
not expect to gain anything by this but it gave vent to her feelings.
In the rear of the room she accidentally struck a small round knob
with her thumb. The blow caused a secret panel to slide back and
expose an opening about eight inches square. The opening was above her
head but she found a stool and climbed up on it.
Her eyes took in a large warehouse-like room full of boxes and
supplies piled from the floor to the ceiling, and extending three
hundred feet toward the rear of the airship. Her mental comment was to
the effect that it was a mammoth apartment, and that it held supplies
enough to care for an army for several months.
But the most interesting part of the room that confronted her were the
men who were loading the airship. There were only three people in the
warehouse department, and two of them were Julian Epworth and Billy
Sand. They were being herded around by a single guard who talked to
them amiably and in a friendly manner.
Fortunately as she looked through the opening they passed very near,
and the guard lagged.
“Julian! Billy!” she whispered softly. “I have been locked up in this
place. Can’t you get me out?”
Epworth heard her but for some time he could not locate her. When he
did, the guard was hurrying them away. Joan saw them disappear behind
some boxes, and imagining that they had not heard her, allowed despair
to fill her soul. With a deep moan she sank on a couch near by and
buried her face in her hands, leaving the panel open slightly but held
firm by the spring. She thought that she was deserted, and her eyes
filled with tears.
Epworth, however, had no idea of deserting her. The second he heard
her voice he knew that she was entrapped on the airship and that he
must devise some scheme to save her. With this end in view, he dragged
slowly back of the guard. Billy, noticing this, fell behind to talk to
him.
“Where do you suppose this ship is going?” Billy asked indolently as
he lowered his last burden to the floor. “She seems to be loading up
for a trip around the world.”
“Worse than that,” the guard called out in an undertone. “That mighty
scientist, Herman Toplinsky, is going to try to go to the moon, and,
unfortunately, I have been detailed to go with the crew.”
“Say, sonny,” Billy exclaimed enthusiastically, “that sounds good to
me. I don’t care if he never gets back. Snap up, Epworth. We may find
a chance to break away while he is speeding along the interplanetary
ways.”
“I’m thinking of going with him,” Epworth whispered. “He is kidnaping
Joan, and taking her with him.”
Billy gulped.
“How’d you find out?”
“Get a move on you, slow boys!” the guard called out. “It is about
time you were leaving the ship.”
As he spoke he turned his back carelessly on the two Americans.
Epworth glanced at Billy; Billy nodded his head. Both edged up softly
toward the guard.
“Out you go,” the guard shouted again. “Drop down and I will stay on
top until she starts.”
With two bounds Epworth and Billy were on him. He was attacked
unexpectedly and before he recovered the two had him on the floor of
the airship, and his own gun sticking in his face.
“Not a word!” Epworth hissed.
“Not even a squeak,” Billy added.
The guard grinned up into their faces. It was a good natured smile and
half disarmed them.
“I do not get the idea,” he said in a low voice. “Are you two
contemplating a trip to the moon as a pleasure jaunt? If you hold me
here ten minutes you will be on your way.”
“We couldn’t part with you, Michael,” Billy lisped. “No indeed. We
love you too well.”
“We have known you long enough, Michael,” Epworth explained, “to know
that you are a good sort, and I will tell you what we are doing. My
sister has been put aboard this airship, and is now a prisoner in the
room adjoining the wareroom. We are staying to see that she is not
mistreated.”
“Toplinsky is a dirty scrub,” Michael burst out, angrily “and his
people would not stand for this—not after he had given his word.
Anyway I am not going to stand for it. Let me up—I am with you. I’ll
drop aboard and leave here, and get together a bunch of men who will
force Toplinsky to leave the girl here. I am sure——”
The airship trembled from stem to stem, a muffled explosion was heard
on the outside; there came a sudden upward jerk, and then a smooth,
even motion of acceleration.
“Too late,” Michael groaned nervously. “We are off, and Toplinsky will
boss you for several years longer unless we are lost in space.” He
paused and added. “Do you know, Americans,” he spoke very plain
English, “that I have always thought that man was crazy. He may have
been hitting the moon with his cylinder projectiles but I’ve always
doubted it, and I don’t feel good starting out to explore space. It
gives me the shakes.”
“Were it not for the fact that my sister is aboard this plane I would
feel the same way,” Epworth said. “But with her future unsettled I am
not thinking of what is in front of me.”