Indescribable voice! Human, animal or monster no one could say. But
the words were clear, precise; and for all their terror, they seemed
to hold an infinite command.
A wave of excitement swept the hall, but Brayley's gesture silenced
it. He leaped forward and bent low over the palpitating brain.
"So you can talk. You came as an enemy. We have given you every
chance today for friendship, and you have refused. What are you trying
to do to us?"
It only glared.
"Speak!"
"I will not tell you anything."
"Oh, yes, you will."
"No!"
All the men on the platform were crowding close to it now.
"Speak!" ordered Brayley again. "Here in Greater New York is a hiding
place. Where is it?"
No answer.
"Where is it? You are perhaps a leader of your world. I lead ours, and
I'm going to master you now. Where is this hiding place?"
The thing suddenly laughed, a gruesome, eerie cackle. "You will know
when it is too late. I think it is too late already."
"Too late for what?"
"To save your world. Doomed, your three worlds! Don't touch--me!"
It ended with a scream of apprehension as Nippor grasped the crooked
little arm. "Tell us!"
"No!" It screamed again. "Let--me--go!"
"Tell us!" Nippor strengthened his squeezing grip. The thing was
writhing, the thin ball of membrane palpitating, heaving. And suddenly
it burst. Over all its purpled surface, blood came with a gush.
Nippor and Brayley staggered backward. The scream of the brain ended
in a choking gurgle. The little legs and tiny body wilted under it;
the round ball of membrane sank to the table. It rolled sidewise upon
one arm and ear, and in a moment its palpitation ceased. A purple-red
mass of blood, it lay deflated and flabby.
It was dead.
4
"But see here," I said, "did they mention the Martian, Molo, at all?"
"They were discussing Molo before you arrived," Grantline told us.
We had drawn back from the doorway. The conference, with the dead
thing removed, was proceeding. Snap and I had momentarily forgotten
Anita and Venza; but now we were in a panic to get back to the Red
Spark.
"But you can't go," said Grantline. "Brayley ordered you here. He'll
want to see you in a moment."
"Well, why doesn't he see us now?" Snap protested. "I'm not going to
cool myself off sitting here."
"Oh yes, you are."
Grantline sent word to Brayley that we were here. In a moment the
answer came. We were to wait a short time; he would want to see us.
We swiftly told Grantline what had happened at the Red Spark, and
found that already he knew. Francis had relayed it to the conference,
and Halsey was in constant communication with the officials here.
"Then what is happening?" I demanded. "Where are the girls? Has Halsey
heard from them?"
Again Grantline went to a nearby room.
"Anita sent a message," he said, when he returned. "They are with
Molo. Halsey is ordering a squad of men to be ready."
Grantline told us what had been happening in the Red Spark. Anita and
Venza, simulating drunkenness with a skill for acting which I knew
both of them possessed, had joined Molo's party. Perhaps if Meka had
been there she would have seen through them.
But Molo did not. And they have since told me that the Martian himself
was far from sober, although he was probably not aware of it. He
yielded to their demands to leave the restaurant with him. He wanted,
as we know, to leave unobtrusively; and Venza threatened a scene
unless she could go.
He took them, leaving openly in a public fare-car. Doubtless he at
first intended to de-rail them somewhere, but they convinced him that
he was not being followed. Twice he used his detector, and Anita and
Halsey were clever enough to throw off their rays in time to avoid it.
Then Halsey lost connection with the fleeing car, and after that Molo
changed his mind about ditching the girls.
"But where are they now?" I demanded.
"You," said Grantline sternly, "are out of it. Do you think that
Halsey, under Brayley's orders, will neglect any chance to find out
where Molo is hiding? Something is about to happen. This conference is
wrestling with it. In Grebhar and Ferrok-Shahn they're striving to
find out what it is. Something impending _now_. Helios are pouring in
here from Venus and Mars. They're mobilizing their spaceships, just as
we are."
Grantline at last was letting out all his apprehensions on us, with
this burst. "Halsey didn't tell you that the entire resources of his
organization are out upon this thing tonight. Here at this conclave
there's a room of information-sorters. That's just where I came from a
moment ago. Every country on our Earth is making ready--for what,
nobody knows!
"He's had two fragmentary calls from Anita. He has a hundred men ready
to rush to their aid, and to capture Molo's lair. He expects another
message from Anita any moment. This conference here knows every
movement that is being made, within ten or twenty seconds of its
making. Perhaps upon Anita and Venza the whole outcome of this thing
may hang."
We had no answer to that. "Do you know who Molo is? He's an
interplanetary pirate; his ship is the _Star-Streak_."
"Good Lord!"
We had heard of him. For five years past, a gray spaceship, with a
base supposedly hidden in the Polar deserts of Mars, had been
terrorizing interplanetary shipping.
"They think," Grantline went on, "that Molo was cruising with his
pirate ship. He has, as you know, a band of criminals drawn from all
the three worlds. There are about fifty of them, commanded by his
sister and himself. We think that Molo encountered the three ships
which that new planet sent out. The _Star-Streak_ was captured,
perhaps destroyed. Molo and his band, joined with this new enemy, to
save themselves, and because they have been promised rewards."
"But why should these brains want their help?" Snap demanded.
"Wouldn't you say it was because, in Ferrok-Shahn, Grebhar and here in
Greater New York, simultaneously tonight, something has to be
accomplished, something the brains themselves could not do? Molo and
his band know all three cities. How they landed here in Greater New
York nobody knows; the enemy spaceship is 200,000 miles out. Obviously
they came from it, landed secretly with some smaller ship somewhere on
Earth and made their way here."
A buzzer sounded beside us. A voice commanded: "Grantline, bring Gregg
Haljan and Daniel Dean to room six at once."
* * * * *
In room six we stood before the War Secretary, who had arrived there a
moment ahead of us.
"Ah, Haljan and Dean. I'm glad to see you."
He was still white and shaken. Beads of perspiration stood upon his
forehead. He mopped them off.
"I've just had a rather terrible experience." He did not suggest that
we sit down. He went on crisply: "Grantline no doubt has told you of
what's going on. Disturbing, terrifying. Haljan, we have a ship being
rushed into commission tonight. You know her, the _Cometara_."
"I know her," I said.
"Quite so. She is taking off as soon as we can ready her. She will
carry about fifty men. Grantline is in charge of the armament and men.
You, Dean, we want to handle her radio-helio."
"Right," said Snap.
"And you, Haljan, we can think of no one better to navigate her."
He waved away my appreciation. "Within a brief time we shall have
thirty such ships in space. Mars and Venus also are mobilizing."
He stood up. "We feel, Haljan, that if anyone can handle the
_Cometara_ with skill enough to combat this lurking enemy, it will be
you."
"I'll do my best, sir."
"We know that. The ship is leaving from the Tappan Interplanetary
Stage shortly after dawn. When have you and Dean last slept?"
"Last night," we both said.
"Quite so. Then you need sleep now. I want you to go at once to the
Tappan Fieldhouse. The commander there will make you comfortable. Eat,
and sleep if you can. We want you in good shape. You're to keep out of
this night's activities here in the city; you understand?"
"Yes sir."
An orderly was approaching behind Brayley. "I'll be back in a moment,
Rollins."
He shook hands with us. "I may not see you again before it's over.
Good luck, lads. Grantline, they need you for a moment in the hall;
something about electronic space weapons, further equipment for the
_Cometara_. Then you'd better go to Tappan House too, and get some
sleep."
We were dismissed. Snap and I regarded each other hesitantly. I said
impulsively, "Mr. Brayley, Detective-Colonel Halsey is using two
girls."
"Yes, we're watching that, Haljan."
"They're the girls we're to marry," I added. "May we communicate with
Colonel Halsey?"
"Yes. Call him from here." He smiled wanly. "But keep out of it; we
need you at dawn."
The Tappan departure-stage was only a few miles up the Hudson; we
could get there in half an hour. It was now nearly trinight, halfway
between midnight and dawn. I had my portable audiphone and got Halsey
at once.
"You Gregg?"
"Yes. They're through with us at the Conclave. Where is Anita?"
"We heard from her twice. I'm expecting...."
We could hear someone interrupting him. Then he came back. "Gregg?
Molo took them somewhere. I didn't dare fling after them. He had his
detector going, and Anita warned me not to try it. She had to stop
connection herself. God knows how she was able to whisper to me at
all."
His voice, like Brayley's, had the ring of a man strained to the
breaking point. I could appreciate how Halsey must feel, forced to
remain at his desk with its encircling banks of instruments; holding
all the network of his farflung activities centralized; his
decisions, his commands in a hundred places almost simultaneously,
while his body sat there inactive.
"Gregg, the girls must have arrived at Molo's place by now. If only
they know where they are! I have lookouts throughout the city with
intricate and complete connecting equipment. Gregg, I must
disconnect."
"Colonel, give me Anita's frequency. Maybe Snap or I can pick up the
message."
He named the oscillating frequency, then disconnected.
"Try that frequency," Snap suggested. "We've got to do something."