the ground. Its buoyancy was now virtually the same as the slightly
denser atmosphere at this height. It drifted slowly for several minutes,
the gyrostats continuing to revolve softly.
The Martians had crowded round in a generous circle below. Mingled fear
and curiosity were written upon their upturned faces, which could be
seen quite clearly in the rapidly brightening daylight. A pompous
officer pushed forward into the open space directly beneath the
_Sphere_. Robert leaned out and addressed this individual.
“As emissaries of his excellency, the Governor of Svergad, I demand the
immediate withdrawal of these forces,” Robert began, affecting a
confidence which he was far from feeling.
“Fine. Go to it, boy!” encouraged Taggert in a hoarse whisper.
The officer did not seem surprized at Robert’s demand. But,
unfortunately, in spite of his pompous manner, it appeared that he was
not of sufficiently high rank to treat with so important a matter. Every
moment was precious, for at any instant the _Sphere_ might betray their
weakness by settling to the ground.
The officer politely stated that their demand would be referred at once
to the generalissimo. Realizing the importance of satisfactorily
completing negotiations before the _Sphere_ descended, Robert decided to
take a bold stand.
“The generalissimo will not do. I must speak with the emperor
quickly--here.”
As expected, the officer was visibly taken aback. Several valuable,
fleeting seconds passed before he recovered from his surprize and
indecision.
“Your request will be communicated to the emperor at once through the
generalissimo,” he answered presently.
The minutes seemed like hours as Robert and Taggert anxiously awaited
the reappearance of the official. Meanwhile the _Sphere_ very slowly
settled lower and lower. Taggert’s efforts to start the engine had
availed nothing. They could but wait idly with what patience they could
summon. To have attempted utilizing part of the disk’s power to carry
them beyond the enemy’s lines would but have resulted in disaster, for
their present buoyancy was maintained only with the aid of the disk’s
power (directed absolutely perpendicularly).
A small group moving toward them heralding the probable approach of the
emperor or generalissimo revived hope in their breasts. They might yet
maintain their strategic position long enough to drive home a bargain
that the Martians would honor when they were obliged to descend and
attempt to bluff their way through a difficult situation somehow.
“The old boy himself,” ejaculated Taggert as the group drew near.
Robert recognized the emperor in a car pulling up below. Seated opposite
him was the officer to whom they had first talked, while beside the
emperor was a much decorated and bedecked individual who he hoped was
the generalissimo himself.
The latter stepped out of the car after the officer, and assisted the
emperor to alight. The three of them slowly paced beneath the _Sphere_
as it drifted lightly with the soft morning breeze. The emperor was
plainly angered and making a poor attempt to conceal the fact.
“What means this rude summons which his Highness, the emperor, has
chosen to humor?” said the generalissimo; for that this _was_ the
generalissimo they quickly discovered. His voice carried up to them
clearly. Barely thirty feet separated them now.
“I will speak directly with the emperor himself,” Robert began. “As
emissary of his Highness, the Governor of Svergad, I demand the
immediate withdrawal of all forces from this region. Unless such a
movement is begun without delay, we are prepared to wipe out your entire
army by means of the terrible weapon which you have seen.”
The emperor raised a countenance dark with passion. The generalissimo
checked him with a nervous grip on his arm as he was about to speak,
addressing him earnestly in an undertone.
The emperor calmed himself with evident effort.
“You have the advantage of us,” he said. “Therefore, my armies will
retire at once; but I warn you that you shall be conquered in the end
and be made to suffer for this.”
“Very well, your Highness. I suggest that you give orders immediately
for their retirement as, unless it is commenced within a few minutes. I
shall resume their destruction.”
Again the generalissimo was obliged to restrain the emperor’s burst of
passion. A moment later, at a curt nod of assent, from the emperor, the
generalissimo dispatched the officer with a command to begin an
immediate general retirement of all forces.
* * * * *
The first contingent was soon moving northward. The emperor and
generalissimo had departed ominously for their headquarters. The
_Sphere_ continued to drift idly, settling ever closer to the ground.
The enemy forces still stretched more than a mile between the _Sphere_
and the city. How Robert and Taggert yearned for a stiffening of the
breeze that they might be swept safely beyond the enemy’s lines before
the descending _Sphere_ placed them in their power! Even now soldiers
below paused in their preparations for retreat to gaze up at them
curiously, albeit anxiously, evidently wondering why the _Sphere_
hovered so low. Should the true reason be guessed, their temporary
victory would be lost.
The next ten minutes seemed like an eternity to Robert. It had brought
them only a little nearer the city and their friends, while scarcely
thirty feet separated them from the enemy. Some of the troops were
already marching off toward the south beneath them, but it was a
physical impossibility for the thousands still between the _Sphere_ and
its goal to move out of the way in less than half an hour. And half an
hour spelled almost certain disaster for the _Sphere_.
“Looks as if we’ll have to indulge in a little more diplomacy,” Robert
remarked.
“Drop in upon his Royal Highness to bid him goo’bye, so to speak,” said
Taggert.
“Something like that.”
At this moment the suspense was broken by a sudden lurch of the
_Sphere_. The gyrostats had stopped!
With but the disk’s diminished power to break its fall, the _Sphere_
dropped into the sand with a jarring thud.
The Martians had carefully avoided the section beneath the _Sphere_.
Consequently it fell clear. For several minutes they kept their
distance. It was evident that they all feared this mysterious machine
greatly.
Presently a pompous officer strode into the space about the _Sphere_.
Clearly he saw in the situation great possibilities for his own future
and he intended making the most of it. Yet, like the rest, he was not
certain that the _Sphere_ was as helpless as it seemed. Before he had
given an order. Robert stepped out of the _Sphere_.
Robert interrupted the officer as he was about to speak.
“I come to give warning that unless the retirement of all the emperor’s
forces is accomplished more rapidly, I will resume their destruction,”
he said, imperiously.
The Martian was visibly undecided. Perhaps he and his regiment would be
wiped out if he attempted to hold the _Sphere_. He observed Taggert
glaring at him balefully from a window. Nevertheless he was a brave man,
especially when he thought of the brilliant future he might enjoy if he
got away with this. A disagreeable smile disfigured his sharp-featured
countenance.
“I think the emperor will soon have changed his mind about the
retirement--just as soon as he knows that you have honored him by
landing within his lines.”
“The emperor is too wise a man to delay the withdrawal of these troops,”
answered Robert, “for even at this moment, should I choose, every man in
sight would be blasted into atoms at a signal from me!”
The cocky officer’s assurance again was visibly shaken. Neither knowing
that the death-dealing Norrensen shaft was rendered useless on account
of its outlet being buried in the sand, nor being certain that the
_Sphere’s_ power was exhausted, he must have feared instant annihilation
if he persisted. A cunning light came into his eyes suddenly, and was as
quickly veiled. Affecting a friendly attitude he strode over to within a
couple feet of Robert. To have backed away from him would but have
advertised their weakness, and any retreat from the circle about them
was impossible. So he stood his ground and waited the officer’s next
move.
As if about to take Robert into his confidence, he placed his hand upon
Robert’s shoulder. Then like a flash he rapped out a command, at the
same instant covering Robert with his _lahan_, the Martian electric
automatic.
Immediately the ring of Martians closed in upon the _Sphere_, while the
officer’s two aids hurried to his help. Counting on his immunity from a
possible blast from the _Sphere_ while in close proximity to Robert, the
crafty officer had dared to defy the _Sphere_. But he had not counted
upon his prisoner’s hot-headedness.
Even as he whipped out the _lahan_, Robert started a dashing uppercut to
his head. Before the surprized officer could fire or dodge, the blow
caught him on the point of his jaw with a beautiful precision. He
staggered and fell just before his anxious aids could reach him.
Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation, Robert could not repress a
laugh over the comical appearance of the little, pointed red beard on
his late opponent’s chin, which was tilted serenely skyward, as he
sprawled on his pompous back.
A few minutes later Robert was securely bound and led roughly away. His
last glimpse of the _Sphere_ showed him a ring of shouting Martians
round it, but no sign of Taggert.
20
Robert was taken to a large tent near by, where, without ceremony, he
was securely fastened to the large center pole by means of chain and
anklet like a criminal. Two armed guards were set to watch him, after
having searched him and taken away the automatic with which he had been
armed when he left the _Sphere_.
At noon a plate of coarse food was brought to him, and a cup of water.
He found the food palatable and, being hungry despite the gloomy
outlook, ate all of it. His guards stared at him intently all the while,
evidently regarding the eating of an Earthbeing as a great curiosity.
The chain, a stout-linked affair which would have weighed heavily had he
been on the Earth, allowed Robert little freedom of movement. The wooden
stool which he had been furnished affording no rest for his back, soon
grew dreadfully tiresome. He tried every position he could conceive for
relief, each of which his guards regarded with fresh suspicion. Once he
tried to engage them in conversation, but he succeeded only in drawing
grunts and uneasy stares from them.
Sounds of activities without drifted to him. There seemed to be
considerable movement of troops past the tent, all in one direction.
Although he was not certain in which direction Svergad lay, Robert knew
that they were in all probability moving back to the attack, now that
the menace of the _Sphere_ was removed. He wondered dully what had
happened to Taggert.
He was just shifting his position for about the fifty-first time when
the flap of the tent was raised and the pompous officer of the morning’s
encounter stepped in, followed by two fellow officers. The guards came
to attention stiffly.
The pompous officer scowled ominously. Plainly he intended dealing with
Robert as severely as possible. He strode over to him.
“Well, how does it feel to be in chains, my vicious friend?” he rasped.
“Quite all right, you old toad,” Robert answered pleasantly in English.
“What?”
“I said, ‘Quite comfortable, old chap,’” said Robert, this time in the
Martian tongue, interestedly surveying a discolored lump on his captor’s
right jaw where he had landed his fist that morning.
The officer’s face went dark with passion. He raised his cane as if to
strike Robert. Before he could do so, however, Robert jerked up his
stool to protect himself. Simultaneously the two guards sprang forward
to protect their superior. But the latter’s courage failed him at the
menace of the stool and he let his hand with the cane fall to his side.
He contented himself for the time with a murderous look at Robert, who
put the chair down, but remained standing for greater freedom of action.
The guards fell back, visibly relieved.
“You shall be handled later, sir,” barked the officer. “Meanwhile, do
you know the fate in store for your friends?”
“The privilege of beating hell out of your rotten army,” Robert shot
back at him. He could have sworn that he saw a brief flicker of
amusement in one of the other officer’s eyes as he said this.
Once more the angry officer seemed on the verge of striking Robert, but
his eyes fastened upon the stool and he changed his mind. He controlled
himself with an effort.
“Another day and you will change your song,” he managed to sputter.
“Until then _you_ will have the ‘privilege’ of reflecting here in
comfort, while a suitable punishment is devised to repay you for your
destruction of our men!”
With that he turned and stamped out of the tent, followed by the other
officers.
The two guards viewed Robert with evident awe after this interview.
Clearly they were unused to hearing their high officers abused so
roundly and carelessly. Perhaps they were saying to themselves something
to the effect that this Earth-being must be _some_ guy.
Their one-cylinder brains were further startled here by Robert’s
tumbling the dreaded stool over, preparatory to reclining upon the sandy
floor. They exchanged glances uneasily. One of them started as if to
object, then seemed to think better of it, relapsing again into a stupid
dumbness.
The afternoon sun was well down in the sky when the curious sound of
distant firing of the Martians’ _hilwai_ came to Robert’s ears--the
first he had heard since his capture. His heart sank as he considered
the probable result of the bitter struggle which it heralded. If only
that confounded engine had not failed them at the critical moment!
The sounds of battle continued until after sunset, when his guards were
relieved by two others whose intelligence and curiosity appeared to be
about on a par with those of the first two. One of them possessed a
rather remarkable, rudderlike nose which fascinated and diverted Robert
for a time, to its owner’s evident discomfiture.
Somehow Robert managed to pass the night in troubled dozing on his hard
bed of sand, tormented by anxious thoughts of Zola. He welcomed the
first flush of dawn with thanksgiving, despite his weariness. The sound
of firing was resumed about this time.
* * * * *
Shortly after his breakfast Robert was visited by Kharnov.
The ruler’s crafty features were disfigured with a scowl. He entered the
tent alone, commanding his escort to remain outside.
“You have returned hostility for hospitality, and the penalty shall be
death,” he said.
His tones fell with deadly precision, like the pronouncement of a
sentence by a criminal judge. An involuntary chill swept over Robert in
spite of his effort to appear unmoved.
“I was but protecting a helpless girl from your unwelcome attentions,”
he replied, ashamed that he could control the nervousness in his voice
only by a great effort. “That you have chosen to pursue her with an army
to be resisted is your own folly.”
“I am not here to discuss fine points with you, sir,” returned the
emperor sharply, “but to offer you a means of saving your life. You
shifted your loyalty once; you can do it again. Aid my army with the
_Sphere_ and you may return to your planet in peace. Refuse and suffer
the consequences!”
“My loyalty was and is only to the right,” retorted Robert. “Your
proposition doesn’t interest me.”
He almost forgot his personal fear as he realized with a thrill that
Kharnov’s latest attack must have been successfully repulsed or he would
not have made this offer.
“Beware! I am offering you your life.”
“I don’t care to buy it at that price.”
The emperor was patently more perplexed than angered by Robert’s
rejection of his terms. His code did not permit of an understanding of
anyone’s refusal of life for principle. He was concerned merely in
deciding just what concession it was necessary to hold out to Robert in
order to secure his acquiescence. A crafty thought occurred to him.
“You will also be given as many of the diamonds, so highly valued on
your planet, as you can take with you. Does that interest you? Of
course, I should require that two or three of my men accompany you while
you were operating against the government’s enemies.”
An inspiration came to Robert. Once he got the _Sphere_ in midair
again--three or a dozen Martians--he might frighten them into submission
and land within the city. It was worth trying anyway, and, if it failed,
they could but take his life, which it seemed certain he would lose
anyway if he flatly refused the emperor’s demand.
“You have the advantage of me,” he said finally. “I accept your terms.
But my friend must accompany me to assist in the operation of the
_Sphere_.”
“One of my men will assist you after you have instructed him. Your
friend must remain a hostage till you have carried out your part of the
contract. No harm shall come to him unless you fail.”
This put the matter in a different light. Here was an obstacle that
would require real diplomacy to hurdle.
“I fear your man can not learn quickly enough, but I’ll try to teach
him,” said Robert, hoping to find some solution later. “However, the
_Sphere_ can not be operated until I have discovered and corrected some
defect in its machinery.”
“Ah, so that explains your strange landing.”
“Exactly.”
Kharnov pondered a moment.
“Very well,” he resumed. “I shall select the men to accompany you and
return later. Meanwhile I will see that you are made more comfortable
here.”
A sinister smile played over his face as he turned to go, giving Robert
a feeling of unknown, impending evil.
True to Kharnov’s promise, however, the tent promptly was equipped with
various comforts, including a couch, table and chair, and other welcome
additions. Good food and excellent wines also were brought him.
The soft couch and soothing wine, after his night of sleeplessness,
produced a pleasant drowziness which Robert found difficult to resist.
He slept, and it was dusk when he awoke.
* * * * *
The distant sounds of battle had ceased again. Dinner was brought to him
and two hours passed without further word from Kharnov. Once more
drowziness overtook Robert and he dozed. His two guards, who had so far
watched him with eyes of hawks, relaxed their vigilance somewhat. They
envied him his privilege of sleeping.
“Brother,” said Rudderbeak, finally, “it is not necessary that two of us
watch over this sleeper. Let us decide by chance which of us may rest
also.”
“Words of wisdom, indeed. Let us do so by all means.”
Fate decided against Rudderbeak. The pebble which he cast at the line
drawn on the sand in the tent rolled a trifle too far. So, grumblingly,
he took up the long night watch while his companion stretched out upon
the floor with a sigh of contentment. He was to be warned in ample time
at the approach of anyone.
Here fate again took a hand. Rudderbeak found standing too great an
effort with two peacefully slumbering beings before him. He felt that he
was at least entitled to the luxury of sitting down. So he availed
himself of the comfortable chair so lately brought in for their captive.
The chair creaked as he settled his weight in it. Had it not been for
this, another sound just outside the tent might have attracted his
attention. Even as he stretched his long legs in extravagant comfort a
shadow without flattened itself upon the ground.
A little while after that Robert woke abruptly to see a face within a
few inches of his. The lantern suspended in the tent top cast weird
shadows around the enclosure, giving the features of the countenance
above his a horrible aspect. An involuntary cry arose in his throat, but
was suddenly checked. For there was a strange familiarity about the
glint of red in the intruder’s hair! The shadow-blurred features quickly
lost their ferocity. It was Taggert.
Their hands met in a clasp of glad reunion. No word passed between them
as Taggert proceeded to examine the length of chain with which Robert
was fastened. He shook his head as he saw the heavy links.
Robert saw his mouth straighten into a firm, hard line as he stared at
the sleeping guards. He removed the gun from the side of the sitting
guard. Then, drawing an object from his pocket, he walked over to where
Rudderbeak lay. He hesitated.
“Got to be done,” he muttered. Raising his arm he brought the object
down upon the slumbering guard’s head forcibly. The Martian slumped
deeper into his chair. His gun slipped to the sand. Stooping quickly,
Taggert picked up the fallen gun, retaining it and handing Robert his
automatic. The other guard, stretched upon the ground, had not stirred
yet.
Deftly Taggert searched the stunned guard. But the key he was looking
for was not in the Martian’s possession. He turned his attention to the
other guard, who still slumbered. As Taggert meditated, the sleeping
guard stirred uneasily. In spite of the reporter’s efforts to avoid
noise the disturbance had evidently been sufficient to break into the
sleeping guard’s subconscious mind. He opened his eyes suddenly, looking
directly at Taggert.
Before the Martian could, gather his senses, however, Taggert pressed
the _lahan_ against his chest.
“Not a sound!” he commanded in the Martian tongue. “Now give me the key
to this anklet--quick.”
The Martian was wide awake enough to realize his helplessness. He
promptly pulled the desired key out of his pocket and handed it to
Taggert.
Robert covered the Martian with the automatic while Taggert fitted the
key to the anklet. A moment later he was free.
They were now faced by the problem of binding and gagging the conscious
Martian. No rope was available within the tent.
“His shirt,” suggested Robert, following his inspiration by pulling the
garment off the now completely cowed Martian.
Swiftly they bound, gagged and blindfolded him, the twisted arms of the
shirt making fair substitutes for cord, though there was not enough to
bind him as thoroughly as they wished. They locked the anklet upon him
after shortening the chain by twisting and knotting it round the big
center-pole. The unconscious Martian they left as he was.
Warning the bound Martian with dire threats, they slipped out of the
tent into the night.
Had Phobus been shining then they would surely have been seen at once;
but the little Martian moon had set an hour past. Creeping painfully
past the clustered tents they came at last to the edge of the camp,
which, fortunately, was not a great distance away.
Here it was necessary for them to pass the pickets. The brilliant
starlight and level, open desert made their escape extremely difficult.
How far apart the pickets were stationed they did not know, but one
paced slowly across a stretch just ahead of where they lay partly
concealed in a slight depression or wave in the desert’s floor.
Cautiously they wormed forward to another shallow depression while the
near-by sentry’s back was turned. Here they waited anxiously as he paced
back and again turned away. One thing in their favor for the present was
that the sentry directed his attention chiefly in the opposite
direction, toward the city. That would become their disadvantage,
however, when once they succeeded in getting past the sentries and
between them and the city.
No sooner had the sentry turned his back again than they were scrambling
feverishly toward a distant, faint strip of shadow, which indicated
their next scanty haven of temporary safety. Their arms and knees were
weary to the point of exhaustion; but they pressed on desperately. Still
the little line of shadow ahead seemed far away. Would they make it
before the sentry turned and discovered them? Surely he would notice the
track where they had pawed their way through the loose sand.