"The master knows that there is danger. Something is wrong." The
hooded stranger spoke like a foreigner, but not a Martian, nor an
Earthman, and not like any person of Venus I had ever heard. It was a
strange, indescribable intonation, a flat, hollow voice.
"I say the master is concerned."
"Let him be."
"And he demanded I bring him here to find you. He is displeased that
you are here."
What gruesome thing was this? Their glances seemed to go to the box on
the floor at their feet, as though the master were in there. But the
lid of the box did not rise.
"Well, you have found me," Molo declared impatiently. "When you know
me better, always you will find I have my wits. The thing is for
tomorrow night, not tonight."
"But that, my master is not sure." The hollow voice was deferential
but insistent. "He fears danger; something has gone wrong. He is
working on it now, striving to receive the message! There is a
message. He knows that much. Perhaps from our world, Wandl, itself."
For a moment Molo had no answer. His sister had not spoken. I noticed
that her gaze seemed roving the room.
"What is it I should do?" Molo asked at last.
"Come with us to your home-room."
"But I have everything ready there. The contact is ready for tomorrow
night. Your world will control Earth."
"But if it be tonight?"
Again Molo was silent. My breath stopped. On our mirror I saw the
stranger's hood part just a little. There seemed to be no face; just
the blur of something brownish.
"But if it be tonight?" the voice insisted.
"I will go," Molo said abruptly, "but your coming here was dangerous.
Suppose we cannot get out undetected? You know I will never go to
where all our instruments are set up and have some damnable spy follow
me. Is all going well on Venus and Mars?"
"Yes. My master feels so. He seems to get messages. The contacts will
be made simultaneously." A gruesome chuckle. "The capture of these
three worlds. We shall have all three enchained at once. Helpless."
The lid of the black box seemed again about to rise when there came a
sharp cry from Meka. "This room is not insulated!"
Our eavesdropping was discovered. Beside me, I heard Halsey give a low
curse. On our mirror we saw sudden action. The ten-foot, cloaked
figure laboriously lifted the black box, and swung with it toward the
outer wall of the room. I saw now clearly with what a dragging, heavy
tread that giant shape moved, as though it weighed, here on Earth, far
more than the normal weight to which it was accustomed.
"Over there!" Molo gasped. "The escape-port; this room has one. Meka,
go with him. I will join you. You know where."