Van Emmon was pretty cross because Billie, through Mona, had told
Fort about Powart's game. More than once he protested hotly, "You
shouldn't have done that! It's all their affair, not ours!"
And Billie usually returned, just as warmly, "I don't care! I think
Powart is a scoundrel!" And it was in the midst of one of these
tiffs that the doctor interrupted, exactly as though the telepathy
was telephony:
"Quiet, you two. Fort has called at the prison, and is being
introduced to young Ernol. He--"
"I've been talking with your father," Fort was saying to the son.
The guard had left them alone in the cell. "But he isn't interested
in my ideas. He seems to think he's done all that needs to be done
in getting himself imprisoned."
The boy nodded. "He considers himself a martyr, Mr. Fort; and I
guess he's satisfied like everybody else." He spoke bitterly.
All Fort's own youthful enthusiasm returned with a rush. "You're
just the chap I'm looking for! If you're genuinely ambitious to do
the people a great service, now's your chance!"
And he went on to tell the boy about Powart's frame-up. He gave
every detail of Mona's strange disclosure, and the boy believed him
absolutely.
"I might have known there was some trick about it!" cried the lad.
"Alma isn't that kind of a planet! By Heaven, Powart deserves to be
assassinated!"
"Nothing doing," replied the athlete promptly, his eyes sparkling
with the old light. "The first thing is to get you out of here; you,
and the other hundred and fifty who were put in at the same time."
Whereupon he proceeded to outline a scheme such as would look
utterly incredible in the mere planning. Perhaps it is best to
relate the thing as it happened, instead.
Two nights after Fort's call on Ernol, Fort again presented himself
to Reblong. This time it was at the engineer's apartments.
"I was hoping to find you about to go on duty. I've been wondering
how your engines control the steering." He was eying Reblong
steadily. "Some time when it is convenient I wish you would show me
all over the ship, and explain everything." He turned as though to
leave.
"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Fort," Reblong hurried to assure him.
"I'd just as soon accommodate you right now as at any time. The ship
is always open to me."
Reblong had said exactly what Fort had hoped and planned that he
would say. Fifteen minutes later the two men were inside the big
air-cruiser, alone except for a few cleaners, who were finishing the
usual work of preparing the ship for its next cruise. But Reblong
could not know that Fort had carefully made sure of this fact
beforehand.
The engineer took the athlete from one end of the cruiser to the
other, showing him how the pilot was able to control its motions
with the utmost delicacy, thanks to automatic mechanism in the
engine-room, electrically connected with the bridge.
"Suppose I was the pilot now," commented Fort, standing on the
bridge and looking up at the stars. "All I need to do is to set
these dials"--indicating the pilot's instruments--"to 'ascend,' and
the engine-room would do the rest automatically. Is that it?"
Reblong said this was practically true, and led the way back to the
engine-room. The place was full of a gurgling sound, now, due to the
fuel being run into the tanks. Reblong glanced at the indicating
tube. "We've already got enough," he estimated, "to take the ship a
thousand miles."
And next instant Fort had leaped upon him. Reblong staggered back in
his surprise, stumbled against a chair, and sat down heavily,
helpless as a child in the athlete's iron grip.
"Sorry, old man," remarked Fort, meanwhile pushing him, chair and
all, toward the instrument-table. "But it's simply got to be done."
Like a flash he let go the engineer and snatched a strap from the
table--where he had of course previously placed it--and again threw
himself upon his man before Reblong recovered from his surprise. In
a second he was strapped tight in his chair; and not until then did
he think to use his feet. Another strap put an end to his kicking.
"Surprised you, didn't I?" The athlete was enjoying himself hugely.
"Now--I must remind you that I'm taking a big chance in doing this.
If you make a noise, I shall treat you as any desperate man would
treat you!" There was a look in his eyes which clinched the matter.
Immediately he disappeared in the direction of the nearest cleaners.
Reblong heard sounds of struggling from time to time; and evidently
he implicitly believed that Fort would take vengeance upon him if he
called for help; for he kept perfectly quiet. After perhaps twenty
minutes the athlete returned, breathing heavily, but happy.
"The last one almost spilled my beans," said he--to use the
expression Smith employed. "He happened to see me shutting another
one into a closet, and jumped me from behind. I had to lay him out."
Reblong must have looked alarmed. "Oh, no harm done. They'll all
live to tell about it for the next twenty years."
Next he made certain adjustments in the engine-room mechanism. Then
he went to the telephone, and located the man in charge of the
depot. "Hello--Mr. Fort speaking; Reblong isn't able to come to the
phone." He winked at the man in the chair. "There's something wrong
with the fuel indicator. Shut off the supply for a while, will you?"
The gurgling soon stopped. Reblong watched in continued silence as
Fort disappeared again, this time taking the elevator to the bridge.
He was back again in a couple of minutes.
"Now, old man," addressing the engineer, "you can guess what I'm up
to. I'm going to navigate this cruiser alone!"
"I've set everything for the ascent. You see what I've done; if I've
made any mistakes, it means good-by for the Cobulus, for me,
and--for you!
"I leave it to your good sense to tell me if there's anything I've
overlooked." And he laid his hands on the starting-levers.
Reblong said nothing so far, such was his chagrin and wonder. But
now he evidently considered seriously what Fort had said.
"I see you mean it, Mr. Fort. And--you ought to know that once
you've cleared the landing-dock, you'll have a hard time to keep her
level unless you're up on the bridge. That is, while you're shifting
the wing-angle. But you ought to be down here to do that; and,
meanwhile, she might nose down and slam into something, and--"
Reblong shuddered.
"I see." The athlete pondered for a moment. Then he lifted the
engineer bodily, chair and all, and moved him over nearer the
instrument. Next he loosened one of Reblong's hands, just enough to
permit him to reach certain of the levers. He also did some more
tying of knots and shifting of buckles, roped the chair to a
stanchion, and made sure that Reblong could not undo himself.
"It's up to you," said Fort with the new light in his eyes. "You run
this thing as it ought to be run, and you're safe. Trick me in any
way, and I'll get you!"
Reblong took a single look at those eyes. "I understand," said he,
in a low voice; and without further ado the athlete went to the
elevator.
In less than a minute the order came to "cast off." The engineer did
not hesitate, but threw the levers and turned the wheels which Fort
had expected to operate himself. Another second and the great craft
was rising from its seat.
Shouts, muffled and faint because of the ship's double windows,
sounded from outside. Reblong saw the sheds sinking rapidly below
him. In thirty seconds the vessel was free of the dock.
"First gear ahead," came the signal; and again Reblong obeyed.
Practically he had no choice. Another man, of nobler training, might
have preferred to be loyal at all costs. But Reblong, the
representative Capellan workman, saw the lights of the sheds shift
slowly to the rear, then go out of sight as the speed increased. He
saw one or two fliers preparing to pursue, but he knew that the
cruiser would easily outstrip the best of them.
The Cobulus had got clear away!
It was an hour later that the four, this time through the doctor and
young Ernol, learned the sequel to Fort's daring feat. The boy was
alone in his cell, awake in the darkness, when one of the guards
marched up to his door and unlocked it.
"Come out," he ordered; and Ernol preceded him down the corridor, up
a flight of stairs, through another corridor and thence into the
exercise grounds. On the other side of this was a small building,
with no opening save one door, now bright with light. Inside, Ernol
found the other men who had been arrested with him, closely watched
by a dozen of the prison guards. His father was not there;
apparently they were waiting for him to be brought.
"It worked all right," whispered the man at Ernol's right, as the
boy was lined up. Ernol only nodded slightly, keeping his eyes fixed
upon the door. A moment later, the elder Ernol arrived, accompanied
by a man whom the doctor instantly recognized.
It was Eklan Norbith, the man whose infernally ingenious use of the
clock's pendulum had wrung the truth about the secret photographs
from the boy's father. He looked even more cruel and repellant now,
than he had that night on the couch. Apparently quite recovered, he
made a truly forbidding figure.
He had evidently been sent for by the warden; for, with a slow,
malignant stare at the row of prisoners, he stated the case in his
heavy, ominous tones:
"You are all supposed to know the rules. One of you has been
smuggling drugs into the prison; we have found specimens in each
cell. It only remains to learn which of you is the guilty party; and
that, I propose to uncover within one minute!"
He paused, and glared around again. The stillness was unbroken for a
moment; then one prisoner coughed nervously. This started half the
rest to doing the same; and under cover of the noise, Ernol
whispered to the man on his right:
"No sight of him yet! I'm afraid you showed the drug too soon."
"I waited until I heard the clock strike," protested the other; and
then both stood on their guard as the commission's deputy went on
with his arraignment:
"It is my duty to inform you, although you probably already know it,
that this building is made of iron. Floor, walls, and ceiling are
the same." The doctor saw that the prisoners' feet were all bare.
"And the whole place is heavily wired with high-power electricity!
"The guards and I will now leave you to yourselves." His teeth
showed in an evil smile. "We will give you a few kilowatts as a
starter, and shut it off after ten seconds. If you are not ready by
that time to tell me which of you is guilty, I will then let you
have the current twice as strong!"
The prisoners looked at each other anxiously. Ernol threw back his
head defiantly.
"Don't weaken!" he exclaimed. "The juice can't hurt you!"
Immediately the guards backed out, keeping their weapons trained on
the crowd. Norbith was the last to go. He left the door open; and
from where the boy stood he could plainly watch the man as he worked
the switches, just outside.
Instantly the place was in an uproar. Of course, the doctor felt
nothing of the prickling, nerve-shaking pain that gripped every one
of those barefoot men. They leaped and darted here and there, bluish
sparks flashing wherever they touched the iron; or they fell after a
step or two and writhed on the floor, shrieking and cursing with the
exquisite torture of that awful current. Ernol alone kept from
shouting; he stood and took it, trembling like a leaf.
But it lasted only a moment or two. The uproar ceased. Norbith
stepped back into the room.
"Well?" The slow smile again. "Want to tell now?"
For answer the boy clapped his hand to his mouth and blew a shrill
whistle. Norbith stared in astonishment. Then, all of a sudden, a
tremendous thing happened.
A veritable hurricane swooped down upon the place. There was a vast
rush of wind, accompanied by a thunderous noise, like breakers. Then
two huge masses of metal clanged against the sides of the building;
there was a grinding crash, and the whole structure rocked and
swayed as though in the grasp of some supernatural monster. Next
second the lights went out; the wires had snapped.
"All aboard; look out, below!" sang out a voice. It was Fort,
calling from far overhead.
And then, slowly at first but with quickening speed, the iron
building rose into the air; arose, and floated away like a toy
balloon. It was fast in the grip of the Cobulus's grappling-irons!
Norbith was the only officer left in the room. He regained his
senses with lightning speed. Out came his electric torch; he trained
it on the prisoners.
"By God!" he cursed. "You'll not get away, you--" And he fumbled
with the weapon in his belt.
It was one of the boxlike machine guns. Young Ernol hesitated only
an instant. Then he dashed forward.
The box spat fire. The boy threw his weight against the deputy, so
that the man lost his balance and toppled out the door into the arms
of the guards below.
And the doctor brought his own mind back to his body not one second
before the lad, burnt through and through by the flame of the man's
weapon, fell back into the room--dead.