CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The palm-dotted island fell silently away. Ahead lay the blue channel;

to the right the open sea. To George the flight--the first of any

duration he had taken--was exhilarating. It was soundless; the absence

of any rush of air against him made it totally unlike flying in a plane.

He seemed to be wafting forward as though the air were his native

element.

Loto was just ahead of him. Behind him came the army, maintaining its

arc-like formation. A little in front, and at a slightly lower level,

were the two squads of girls. They were all slim, graceful creatures,

most of them under twenty. The black gauze--loose trousers and

blouse--showed the white of their limbs beneath. Their heads were bound

in deep-red rubber cloth, tight over the forehead and tied in back with

flowing ends. With cylinders extended from the left hand they slid

gracefully forward through the air.

Though George felt no rush of air, he found he could not talk to Loto,

even though no more than twenty feet separated them. The rushing wind

between them tore away the words.

Soon they were over the channel. The girls were drifting much lower now.

Loto darted down a few feet; then as though he had changed his mind, he

came up again. He reached for a mouthpiece that dangled under his chin

and fitted it to his lips. His voice, magnified to a stentorian roar,

rolled out.

"_Azeela! Dee! Come higher! You must not go so low!_"

Obediently the two girls rose to the higher level, their little squads

following them. When they were over the mouth of the channel, George saw

Toroh's barges--tiny dark smudges on the water some miles up the coast

and a mile or so off shore. His heart leaped, began pounding in spite of

his efforts to quiet it.

Following Loto he swept diagonally upward and forward. Presently he

could count six barges. They were tremendous things, crowded with men

and dogs and mechanical apparatus. Spread over each was a huge caging of

flashing silver metal. One barge was some distance in the lead; the

others straggled out irregularly behind it for about a mile. All the

Noth vessels were being drawn slowly through the water by ranks of

harnessed dogs.

Loto momentarily shut off his cylinder; his speed was slackening. George

overtook him, put an arm on his shoulder. The nearest of the barges was

now less than a mile ahead.

An upward flash from the leading barge was followed in a few seconds by

a crack of thunder. The bolt dissipated harmlessly into the air. But

obviously it was powerful, with an effective range of two thousand

feet--twice that of the Anglese defense.

Toroh's plan now became apparent. He would batter the Anglese coast

projectors while still beyond reach of them, and then make his landing.

The cages over the barges were for protection from the smaller

thunderbolts of the attacking aerial army.

George knew the cages were only partially effective. A bolt was

difficult to aim, but it did queer things when it struck. From a short

distance--a hundred feet or less--the barges could be set on fire and

sunk. Their thin metal hulls were not protected. They could be pierced.

The wooden super-structure could be fired; the swimming dogs struck and

killed.

In hurried whispers Loto was constantly talking with Fahn back in the

cavern. The Scientist's orders he repeated with his electrically

magnified voice that could be heard easily by every one of the little

aerial army.

For a time they circled about, above the barges, but keeping well

beyond the two-thousand foot range. Against the blue of the sky their

figures must have shown plainly to the Noths. Occasionally a bolt would

flash up, but they were harmless at that distance. And the barges pushed

steadily forward.

At last Fahn decided the moment for attack had arrived. Loto repeated

the order. George's division and Mogruud's separated from the rest. One

hundred turned seaward, the others toward land. They dropped swiftly;

straight down, like divers, heavily laden with lead, dropping through

water. And then a darting, twisting swarm of insects--from every side at

once they attacked the leading barge.

In the depths of the cavern at Anglese City, Fahn sat in his room of

mirrors. A metal band about his head held a receiver to his ear. A black

mouthpiece hung against his chest and by lowering his head he could

bring his lips to it. Rogers was at his side. The mirrors in every part

of the room were lighted, giving the viewpoints of the coast towers near

the mouth of the channel. In several of the mirrored scenes, over the

distant water and in the air, black specks were visible; the enemy and

Fahn's army above them.

But these were not the vital crystal mirrors. A small one--a foot square

perhaps--stood on the table before Fahn. He and Rogers were gazing into

it intently. The mirror was connected with a tiny lens strapped to

Loto's forehead; it gave Loto's viewpoint of the battle, showed the

scene exactly as Loto saw it.

Fahn was silent; a stern, anxious old man, with all his science around

him, sitting in seclusion to direct this warfare upon which the fate of

his people depended. Occasionally he would murmur something to Rogers,

and the other man would speak into a mouthpiece--an order for the

operator of the broadcasted aerial voices, controlled from another part

of the cavern. Then throughout the island, cheering words to the Bas

would resound, news of the progress of the battle. But Fahn's gaze never

wavered from the little mirror.

George's and Mogruud's divisions descended upon the leading barge. The

barge spat forth its bolts, but it could discharge only one or two

against a hundred of the tiny ones from its attackers. Looking down,

from Loto's viewpoint overhead, the barge was assailed on every side by

the pencils of electrical flame. Figures dropped, inert, into the water;

others, wounded, wavered upward. The wire cage over the barge was

sizzling and crackling; the swimming dogs, a dozen or more of them,

crumpled in the water and were dragged forward in their harness by the

others.

The engagement had lasted no more than a minute when the air about the

barge was suddenly plunged into blackness. Everything down there was

blotted out--a patch of solid ink on the sea. The Noth vessel had

exploded a bomb whose etheric vibration absorbed all light over a radius

of five hundred feet.

Fahn smiled grimly. The darkness there would pass presently. His own

leaders, Loto, George, Mogruud and the two girls, had the same

equipment. Each of them could discharge such a bomb; a puff of darkness,

cloaking everything around them in temporary invisibility.

Fahn heard his own orders roared by Loto. The attacking figures came up.

But there were not two hundred of them now: about twenty lay down there

in the water; a dozen more were wounded; a few were moving slowly

homeward through the air.

The darkness still hung around the attacked Noth vessel. But it was

thinning out; now the vague outlines of the barge could be seen. Within

a minute the dark patch was gone. One end of the barge was blazing, but

the Noths were extinguishing the flames. Other figures were cutting

loose the dead dogs in the water, while new dogs were leaping overboard

to take their places.

The attacked barge presently moved onward; slowly, inexorably, they were

all coming down the coast. They were no more than a mile or two now from

the estuary of the channel-mouth.

Three times more Fahn ordered a division down at the same barge. The

Noth tactics were repeated. The barge discharged a few of its bolts and

then enveloped itself in blackness--an absence of light that even the

thunderbolts could not illumine.

These brief engagements were largely a matter of individual action.

Warfare was new to the Anglese, but they were learning. The huge bolts

from the barge could not parallel the water level for long; inevitably

they turned downward to discharge themselves. Close to the water the

attackers were comparatively safe.

When the Anglese came up after these attacks and reformed themselves in

orderly array, there were only ten more of their number missing. But it

was fifty in all, and a score of wounded.

The attacked barge was blazing end to end. Its crowded deck was a

turmoil of figures. They were plunging overboard--men and dogs--to avoid

the flames. In a moment the barge tilted upward at its stern. Its torn

bow was admitting the water; it slid downward, hissing, and disappeared

beneath the surface. Figures bobbed up from the swirl, inert, charred

figures; others among them, still alive, swam about in aimless

confusion.

One barge! But there were five more. And these others had all pushed

forward until now they were almost down to the channel. Fahn realized

that there were five hundred Noths and as many dogs crowded into each of

them. They could take to the water while they were still beyond range of

his coast projectors and come forward individually, each man mounted

upon his swimming dog. The coast defense could strike down no more than

a few of them if they came in that fashion. Twenty-five hundred men and

their giant brutes, landing on the island.

Azeela and Dee were hovering close to Loto; they were asking their

father's permission to try a new plan. The battle could not be

maintained as it was going; the hand thunderbolt globes held but ten

charges each, and the equipment of each individual was only three

globes. A third of the thunderbolts were already exhausted in sinking

one barge.

Fahn's expression did not change; only the grip of his fingers as he

clenched them and the rising muscles under his thin cheeks betokened his

emotion. His voice was steady, grim as always, when he ordered his

daughters to their desperate venture.

Azeela and Dee, with their twenty-six comrades, selected the barge that

had replaced the leader. In a closely knit group they hovered above it.

Thunderbolts shot up, but could not reach them. The girls aimed a

pure-white beam of light downward--twenty-six tiny rays blending into

one. Rogers, bending over Fahn to gaze into the little mirror, was

amazed. Unlike any beam of light he had ever seen, this one was curved;

It descended in a slightly bent bow, ending at the barge.

Fahn whispered a swift explanation to Rogers. To the Noths, looking

upward along the beam, it would not appear curved, but straight. The

figures of the girls, by an optical illusion, would be seen, not where

they actually were, but to one side.

The girls held their curved ray steady. And plunging down the beam,

following its slightly curved path, were the figures of Azeela and Dee.

The Noths saw them coming; a dozen bolts leaped into the air, one upon

the other, but they flashed harmlessly to one side of their mark.

Within twenty seconds the two girls were close to the barge; yellow-red

spurts of flame leaped from their weapons--flame that could be hurled

thirty feet but no farther. It enveloped the barge with licking,

seething, burning liquid gases that withered everything they touched. A

puff of darkness, which the retreating girls had left behind them,

blotted out the scene. An instant later Azeela and Dee emerged from the

darkness, safe. The shaft of light from the girls above was extinguished

as the two rose to join them.

When light shone again around the barge, it was sinking. Soon the

swirling water held nothing but black, twisted figures.

The maneuver could not be repeated successfully. From the other barges

the Noths would have seen the curved beam, understood it and made

allowances for it. Azeela and Dee, triumphant and flushed with their

success, pleaded to try it again, but Fahn would not let them.

The afternoon was waning; the western sky was red and overhead clouds

were gathering. And then Fahn ordered a general attack on all the

barges.

The sun had set; the twilight deepened into night--a night of flashing

lights, crackling, artificial thunder, spurts of lurid flame and the

hissing of fire against water. At intervals, rockets came up; bursting,

they cast a blue-white glare that for the space of a minute clearly

outlined the menacing, darting figures for the Noths.

The atmospheric disturbance of the past hours suddenly brought forth an

electrical storm. Nature, more powerful than man, shot forth her own

bolts to add to the din. They were, in character, very different from

the harnessed, man-made lightning; forked, jagged, crackling with their

nearness, they leaped downward out of the low-hanging clouds.

The storm was as brief as it was severe. It swept away and the moon

rose, blood-red, casting its lurid light over the water.

Another Noth vessel had been sunk. There were only three barges left

afloat, and they were in distress. Many of their swimming dogs lay dead

in harness. Aboard all three of them, figures were fighting the flames.

They clustered in a group near the center of the channel.

Loto had withdrawn his forces, reduced now to half their original

number. With ammunition almost exhausted, they hovered out of range

above their adversaries. The wounded were still straggling back through

the air; a few of them had already arrived at the cavern.

Again Fahn ordered his army down. It would be the last attempt.

In the cavern room, Fahn had not moved from his seat for hours. Often he

could not see the battle plainly, for Loto, disobeying orders, had many

times cast himself into the thick of it.

But now Loto was aloft; by the moonlight and the glare of the rockets

and bombs, Fahn saw that another Noth vessel had appeared--a very small

barge. It was close to shore, coming swiftly forward and little objects

of gleaming silver were mounting from it. One after the other they came

sailing up.

Fahn rasped an order; Loto's voice roared it out. The men and girls who

were descending to the attack halted, circling about, wondering what had

happened.

The first of the white objects came sailing slowly horizontally across

the channel. It seemed to be a whirling white disc some foot or two in

diameter.

Loto was still some distance away from it when a group of girls passed

between him and the disc. The thing seemed to turn toward them. One of

the girls became confused; it struck her and she fell. The disc, its

rotation halted, fell also. Loto saw then what it was: broad, thin,

crossed blades of steel, inclined to each other like the blades of a

propeller. It had risen up and sustained itself in the air by rotation.

Loto remembered the defeat of the flying thunderbolt platforms which

Fahn had sent northward to Toroh's encampment. These whirling knives

were what had destroyed them!

The newly arrived barge was now sending up, in every direction, a slow

but steady stream of the whirling knives. They seemed so easy to avoid

that the aerial army at first paid them little heed. Loto's warning from

Fahn rang out, but it came almost too late. The knives sought out the

figures in the air. They began falling--cut, mangled by the whirling

blades. There was confusion. The army mounted higher, but other knives

had been sent straight upward and were floating down. Uncannily, they

seemed to single out their victims.

Fahn understood now. This was the weapon Toroh had procured from that

time-world of the past. These whirling knives were strangely, powerfully

magnetized; they followed the human bodies passing near them, seeking

contact.

The Scientist leader had ordered his fighters to the sea level; the

knives, as they came lower, seemed to have spent themselves. They could

be avoided. But nearly forty of the Anglese had met death before the

lesson was learned.

The three larger barges were again advancing toward the Anglese coast.

Without warning, without orders from Fahn, the little remnant of girls

led by Azeela and Dee, darted at them. It was a movement, not foolhardy,

but well and swiftly planned. The girls, holding close to the surface,

got themselves between two of the barges. The Noths could not fire, for

they would have struck each other. A puff of inky darkness spread over

the ships, and out of it, at close range, jets of fire sprang at the

Noths; then the girls came back. One of the Noth vessels was a mass of

flames; the other two wavered--and began retreating.

For a moment there was silence and darkness, lighted only by the moon

and the flickering light from the blazing barge. The whirling blades

were no longer being launched; the Anglese were again poised in the air.

Fahn had ordered that the small barge be attacked when, abruptly, a low

hum sounded from it. George and Loto were hovering together at the

moment; the barge was some five hundred feet below them and slightly off

to one side. There didn't seem to be any dogs on it; only a few men

under its wire cage, and a single large piece of apparatus.

The hum grew louder, more intense, as though some gigantic dynamo had

been set into motion.

"What's that?" George demanded.

But Loto did not know.

Mogruud, with the remains of his division, was in the air half a mile

away. He was on the other side of the small barge; his men, moving in

scattered groups, began passing over it.

The hum was rising in pitch, up the scale until it became a shrill

electrical scream. Mogruud's men wavered--struggled as though to avoid

being pulled downward.

Then Loto realized that it must be the rest of the apparatus Toroh had

secured out of the past--a giant electromagnet of some unknown variety.

It was pulling at every figure in the air, drawing them irresistibly

toward it.

Loto and George could feel the pull; invisible fingers were snatching at

them. The girls near at hand were fighting against it. Mogruud was

moving forward with an effort, like a swimmer struggling with the clutch

of an undertow. Several of his men, closer to the barge, had been drawn

to it, flattened helplessly against its wire caging. Fire was leaping

through their bodies...they were electrocuted.

In the cavern Fahn sat tense, impotent. He could hear, as plainly as

though he were out there over the sea, the scream of that uncanny thing

that was reaching out its invisible electrical fingers to gather in its

victims.

At his side, for the past hour, Rogers had been operating the larger

mirrors, flashing into them scenes from the various towers along the

coast. Now Fahn heard him give a sharp, horrified exclamation.

Rogers was staring at a mirrored scene from a coast tower near Orleen:

moonlight, purple, starry sky and the deep purple of the channel; to one

side, the dim outlines of the Orleen houses. And from the channel off

Orleen, lights were flashing; a bomb burst and its glare shone on

crowded barges close inshore! One of them, already at the beach, was

disgorging its men and brutes!

The man who mastered time · 第 39 / 41 题