Six more weeks rolled by and, now the Asiatic Air Fleet advancing up
the Mississippi Valley was only five hundred miles from Chicago. Should
this last big city of the Occident be destroyed, all hope for further
resistance would immediately crumble; for here were situated the
munition factories and here was the government that kept the dwindling
energies of the United States organized.
Surrender was useless to the Americans. The blood lust of their foes
had grown to such proportions that they had proclaimed that only the
complete extermination of Occidentals would satisfy them. In a few more
days, when the needed reinforcements had arrived from China, there
would be a battle surpassing in magnitude and horrors all previous
struggles. Then the men from the East would dump tons of chemicals upon
the American metropolis; her twenty million inhabitants would suffer a
moment of intense agony and, in a few minutes, she would be left silent
and empty. So, at least, thought Tsu Tsin Ho, "The Wizard of the East,"
and many another wise head among the invaders; for the air fleet of
the United States was outnumbered three to one.
But there was one thing that the brilliant Orientals did not know of.
In Whitley Park, Chicago's most important pleasure ground, an unusual
engineering operation was in progress. Four slender, two-thousand-foot
towers of steel, seemingly as frail as spider web, were rising as if by
magic. They were arranged in a square and between them skillful workmen
were fastening a maze of fine wires.
In the center of the rectangle formed by the towers two enigmatic
machines were being assembled. One was a huge apparatus, very similar
in appearance to a gas engine of the twentieth century. Fully a hundred
feet its eight bulky cylinders reared, gleaming with a glossy black
sheen. There was something sinister and awesome about it--a suggestion
that within its slumbering frame there lurked sufficient power to send
the earth hurtling from its orbit. Beside the engine a great drum-like
contrivance was slowly taking form beneath the hammers and riveters of
the construction crew. It was a generator that would soon supply energy
to the mass of wires overhead.
What was the sinister purpose of this gigantic wireless power plant?
Only a few men knew, and these often smiled grimly.
With feverish haste Chicago's factories were turning out new and
strange devices by the thousand--things the purpose of which even their
builders did not know. They were tubes of varying sizes, from one foot
in length to twelve, made of black enameled steel.
The report that the impending battle was very near came sooner than
was expected. In the midst of a glorious June day, the sunny serenity
of which was mocked by the awful contest that was going on, a lone
air scout raced over the city from the south. He brought news that
the enemy was preparing every available ship, evidently for the final
struggle.
Ten minutes after the arrival of the messenger, a hundred and fifty
battleships, America's only reserve force, arose majestically from the
landing stage to join the main fleet.
What appeared to be Chicago's last day of life was drawing to a
close when they reached their destination. With this reinforcement
the American fleet numbered about 2,000 large battlecraft. They hung
stationary, supported high above the earth by their gravitational
screens, awaiting the attack.
To the south of them, at a distance of perhaps twenty miles, the ships
of the enemy were being arranged in battle formation. From deck,
port and bridge, keen eyes watched their movements, through powerful
glasses. There were at least five thousand of them--all first-class
fighting machines of the largest size. Accompanying them was a
countless hoard of small fliers.
Now the Orientals began to advance in a great V-shaped arrangement.
A thousand feet above them, the one-man craft moved like a swarm of
hornets.
Suddenly the position of the Asiatic fleet seemed to change from
south to a little west by south in a way that would have made a man
of the twentieth century doubt the evidence of his senses. But these
latter-day Americans knew well what was happening. It was merely a
weird illusion--another creation of Thomas Whitley's master mind.
Soon after he invented the gravitational screen, he had found that,
under the influence of certain electromagnetic waves produced by a
special generator, air could be made to refract light enormously. This
discovery was of tremendous advantage in war. Both the Caucasians and
the Mongolians used it to prevent each other from knowing the exact
position of their forces. It practically eliminated battles at long
range since, without knowing exactly where the enemy is, a gun crew
cannot fire with any degree of accuracy. At a range of less than five
miles the Whitley "mirafractor," as the device was called, was useless;
and consequently within these limits the great contests were fought. At
such close quarters the guns shooting projectiles filled with the new
radioactive explosive, _terrorium_, could be used with dreadful effect.