"Right," he said confidently. "But we might as well take it slow for a
minute or two."
They moved silently through the garden. George leaned forward and down
to the dog's face.
"Nice dog, Atal. You go slow till I tell you different."
In the street, Dee was drawing away, and Atal broke into a run.
George clung desperately. But it was unnecessary. The dog's strides were
even and long; its padded paws made no sound as they hit the ground; its
legs, all its muscles, seemed to give to the shock and absorb it.
They were running faster now; the dog's body seemed to settle closer to
the ground. The wind whistled by George's ears, but he felt curiously
secure. There was no question of the dog stumbling, falling; and its
gait, now at a steady run, was far easier to ride than any horse he had
ever mounted.
Dee was still ahead; the ends of the ribbon band about her head
fluttered out behind her. The white road was a blur; the houses and
gardens of the city were flying past.
An exhilaration--a feeling of triumph and power--came over George. He
was perfectly at home on the dog's back now. This little Dee was a
daredevil, as Loto had said. Well, that was the sort of girl he liked.
They'll overtake Toroh, kill him with a flash from the thunderbolt
globes and rescue Azeela.
George leaned forward over the dog's neck.
"We might as well catch up with Dee," he said into the silky ear.
"Faster, Atal!"
At once the dog increased its pace, overtaking its mate. Side by side,
they swept through the city.
To George the ride soon became a blur: a white moonlit road passing
under him, palm trees flashing by, occasional houses, thatched shacks;
the wind whistling past his ears, and that lithe, powerful body beneath
him, with its rippling muscles.
Dee rode gracefully and easily, leaning slightly forward into the rush
of air. Often she would draw ahead, but a whispered word from George to
the brute beneath him, and again the dogs were running side by side.
Presently Dee stopped them; the dogs stood panting, with tongues lolling
out.
"What is it?" George demanded. "Where are we?"
The girl's face was drawn with anxiety. "Azeela had been trying to find
out from Toroh why he takes her to Orleen."
"Yes?" he prompted. "And I wondered--"
"Toroh has told her now. Loto's old plane is there. He wants the plane!"
"Oh!" George's heart sank with dismay. "But the plane is in the Orleen
Cavern. How can they get to it? Isn't the cavern guarded?"
"Yes. Wait. Toroh says he can get it. He has a spy there--a man whom we
trust. One of the guards."
"Good grief! Dee, where are they now?"
"A few miles west of here. I can't tell how far--Azeela does not know
just where we are, either."
"Does Toroh know we're after him?"
"No."
George tried to think coherently. "Can't we overtake them, Dee? Before
they reach Orleen?"
"I don't know. Azeela says not. Their dogs are very fast--perhaps faster
than ours."
Suddenly George had an inspiration. The other plane--the one he and
Rogers had come in! It was back in the cavern in Anglese City. He and
Dee could get that, and he could operate it--he'd have to, now. Then
they could fly to Orleen, and perhaps by that method get there before
Toroh and Azeela.
He explained this swiftly to Dee. "We're not so far from Anglese City,
are we?"
"No," she agreed. "It's the best thing to do."
They turned the dogs, starting back over the road they had come.
A new thought occurred to George. "Dee, what does Toroh want with that
plane? Is he going to take Azeela north in it?"
The dogs were already at a run, but he caught her answer.
"No. He will take the plane back into time! He wants to get greater
weapons with which to conquer us!"
* * * * *
Fahn, Loto and Rogers hurried through the city streets. The faint
distant cries of the mob ahead drifted back to them. There were no Arans
to be seen, but the Bas men and women were everywhere, most of them
moving in the direction of the palace.
As Fahn and his two companions advanced, the turmoil ahead grew louder.
The palace stood on a rise of ground in the midst of a lavish garden,
with its swimming pool, its trellised pergolas and its graceful palms.
The building was a two story rectangular, with huge white columns from
the ground to the roof. A broad balcony ran the length of the second
story. The roof was flat, with palms growing upon it.
A crowd of Bas was surging up the hill toward the palace; in the
gardens, the armed mob was already massed, shouting, threatening, but
lacking, as yet, the courage to advance upon the building.
Fahn had turned into a side street at the foot of the hill.
"Where are we going?" Rogers demanded.
"We've got to get into the palace unseen, so we'll go through the
tower," Loto explained. "There's a secret way into it that the Bas don't
know."
The tower, which rose like the skeleton of a lighthouse, stood close
beside the main palace building; a covered bridge connecting the two as
the level of the second floor of the palace.
Swiftly Fahn led the two men to the beach that lay behind the bluff on
which the palace and its tower stood. The moonlit strand was deserted.
They came to a thick clump of palmettos in the heavy sand at the foot of
the bluff--a green tangled clump higher than a man's head. Into this
Fahn plunged unhesitatingly, forcing the fronds aside, pushing his way
in with the others after him. Inside the palmetto thicket was a small
tunnel mouth, leading downward.
It seemed an endless journey through a black underground passageway not
much higher than their heads and so narrow that they could always touch
both its walls with their outstretched arms. The air was heavy and
fetid. They went down a slope, across on a level, then up. Once they
arrived at an iron grating barring the way. But Fahn opened it in some
fashion and it swung on a central, horizontal pivot so that they might
crawl under it.
Ahead of them, up the incline, a tiny blue light shone. They reached it,
found a small circular staircase and climbed upward into the tower.
The whole process had taken perhaps fifteen minutes. The mob was still
in the garden; its shouts and mutterings sounded loud and ominous as the
little party ascended the interior of the tower and hastily crossed the
covered bridge.
Fahn was still leading the way. They pushed aside a curtained doorway
and found themselves in a broad, second-floor corridor of the palace,
dimly lighted. A white-bearded old man was crossing it hastily,
disappearing into a room at its further end.
Another room was near at hand, with a latticed grating in its doorway
that now stood open. A soft, blue-white light flooded out through it to
the hall. The castle's interior was evidently in confusion; cries
sounded, mingled with the threatening shouts of the mob outside.
A girl, shaking with fright, stood in the nearer doorway, the light from
behind glowing through her soft draperies. Other girls crowded forward
from the room--a dozen frightened young girls, no more than matured.
They saw Fahn, and ran to him for protection.
"The king's wives," Loto explained to his father.
Fahn's face softened, and as the girls huddled round him, he tried to
comfort them.
"The guilt within them," muttered Rogers. "They think the Bas are coming
to kill them--_only them_."
Fahn caught the words and his eyes flashed. "There is no guilt here, my
friend. They are women born to such as this."
With the girls in a clinging group around him, the scientist proceeded
down the hallway, followed by Loto and his father.
The room at the end of the hall--it seemed a sort of audience room--was
in confusion; most of the occupants of the palace were gathered there.
The king was pacing up and down near the entrance, his frightened
councilors and advisors around him.
On a low divan sat the queen, a woman of forty, regal in a paneled robe,
with her hair dressed high on her head. At her knees two children were
huddled--the little prince and princess of the Arans. The queen was
bending down over them as the strangers entered. When she saw Fahn with
the girl-wives of her king, she frowned, stood up, and with an imperious
gesture ordered the girls from the room. But Fahn, with a stern command,
bade them stay. The queen seemed amazed at the scientist's defiance; the
king looked undecided, but he did not interfere.
With Fahn's arrival, the room quieted; its occupants gained confidence.
The king seemed utterly relieved. He spoke a few placating words to the
queen, but she had withdrawn haughtily to a corner, her eyes flashing at
the frightened girls who were huddled across the room.
The mob outside was shouting, surging about, but still lacking the
courage for a concerted attack. Fahn went to a window, with Rogers and
Loto after him. The moonlight outside showed the crowd plainly. The Bas
were waving their weapons.
"Look!" Loto exclaimed.
A score or more of men were gathering in a group near the center of the
garden. A man mounted the rim of a fountain, inciting the group with his
shouts. His words had effect. The little knot of men waved their
cane-knives and came surging toward the palace entrance. The crowd made
way for them, following behind with shouts of triumph. Missiles were
thrown upward at the palace windows; one or two at first, then a
hailstorm.
Fahn quietly stepped out on a balcony that ran along the entire front of
the building. Loto and his father followed. The moonlight fell full upon
them, and the crowd recognized the Scientists' leader.
A great shout went up--a cry of defiance mingled with fear. The men
rushing at the building wavered and stopped; the crowd near at hand
began pressing backward.
Slowly, Fahn advanced to the waist-high parapet; with his hands upon it
he stood like an orator facing a friendly throng and calmly waited for
silence. A stone whistled past his head, struck the building and
clattered to the stone floor of the balcony, but he did not heed it.
His calmness, the confident power of his demeanor, quieted the mob. In a
little open space on the terrace, a leader of the Bas sprang into
prominence--a giant man who shouted a brief sentence.
"Mogruud," whispered Loto. "He tells them to listen to what Fahn has to
say."
Silence came at last, and then Fahn spoke, quietly, earnestly. He seemed
to be winning them over, when from the palace behind the king suddenly
appeared on the balcony. At the sight of him an angry shout rolled up
from the crowd. A long, thin knife, with a tail of feathers on it, flew
up from below and stuck, quivering, in the window casement beside the
king's head. The king retreated.
Fahn continued speaking, but now the mob would not listen to him. A
woman's shrill laugh of derision floated upward.
At once Fahn's tone changed. He rasped out a stern command, but a
scattering hail of stones was his answer. Then, without warning, his
hand went to his robe. He flung a little ball into the air. It burst
fifty feet from his hand with a shrill whistling scream, and a shower of
sparks scattered downward over the garden. They were harmless, but they
sent a mild electric shock through every individual member of the mob.
The Bas were frightened into silence.
"He does not want to kill even one of them," Loto whispered. "Never
before have the Bas been in open demonstration. It might spread to other
cities--_anything might happen_."
Fahn was now whispering into a tiny mouthpiece, talking to his guards at
the cavern a mile or so away. From the cavern-mountain across the city,
a blue-white shaft of light sprang into the sky. The Bas saw it and
stared. And then suddenly the air seemed to be bursting with
voices--four words, repeated by the audible radio that the cavern was
sending out.
"_Death to disloyal Bas! Death to disloyal Bas!_"
A million aerial voices were proclaiming it everywhere. And then the
words changed.
"_We must win against Toroh! The Bas must help us win against Toroh!_"
The threat and its so swiftly following appeal were irresistible.
Mogruud shouted an enthusiastic answer to Fahn, and the crowd applauded.
The voices in the air were presently stilled; the light over the cavern
disappeared. And, still with his hands quietly on the parapet, Fahn
again addressed the people below him.
"Mogruud says the laws should be changed," Loto whispered swiftly to his
father. "The Bas women should have their children without exile."
Fahn seemed to make a sudden decision. He spoke again into his
mouthpiece. Again the light sprang over the cavern. From the air came
the words:
"_Bas women will not be exiled! Bas children will be free!_"
Surprised, awed, then frantic with joy, the crowd in the palace gardens
took up the cry, and all over the island the radio voices were
proclaiming it:
"_Bas children will be free! The Scientists promise Bas children will be
free!_"