"I am glad to see so many moving-picture men," said Mona
thoughtfully. "If it were not for photographs, I doubt if coming
generations would believe this."
And she turned her glasses again upon the scene. From the cockpit of
Fort's newest ornithopter, about three hundred yards from the ground
and less than that distance from the spot, she could watch
operations with exceptional ease. Fort agreed with her comment.
"Yes; to merely state that the mouth of that cannon is a hundred
feet in diameter, and that it is set a mile and a half into the
ground, at an angle of thirty degrees--it's too much of a strain on
the imagination. However, I understand they've taken flash-light
pictures from the interior, such as will make it easier to believe."
A huge compound crane was slowly swinging the first projectile into
place over the muzzle of that colossal gun. Mona eyed the immense
shell with curiosity.
"As I understand it," she said, "the projectile is really a number
of shells, telescoping, one within another. I've forgotten how many
there are."
"Fifty. The idea, of course, is that the original charge of powder
within the cannon will send the projectile at something like two
miles a second. Upon reaching a certain point in space another
charge will be automatically fired in the base of the outermost
shell. Thus it will act as another cannon, from which the remaining
shells will be shot. And so on, until the forty-ninth shell has been
blown to the rear. The remaining one will, by that time, have
traveled far enough to get out of our gravitation into Alma's."
"What is the size of the fiftieth shell?"
"Only two feet in diameter; [Footnote: All dimensions are
necessarily a matter of judgment; but they represent the opinion of
an architect, whose sense of proportion is presumably better than
average.] but of such length that it will hold five tons of
explosive. It is expected to demolish a square mile of their roof."
The great projectile was carefully lowered until its tip was flush
with the volcano-like mouth of the cannon. The proceeding took a
long time; and it was well toward the end of the work that Powart's
handsome yacht swept into the space provided for it in the circle of
spectators. By prearrangement this space was next to that occupied
by Mona and Fort.
As soon as the yacht had come to a stop its thrumming wings keeping
it as steadily suspended in mid air as any of the lighter craft
roundabout, Powart himself stepped out upon the tiny bridge. It was
the signal for a great outburst of applause, in which Fort joined as
heartily as any one.
"You don't seem at all envious of Mr. Powart," commented Mona,
watching the athlete curiously.
He looked around as though surprised, and protested:
"On the contrary, I am really proud of his success. You see, it's
this way, Mona: If he fails, then I fail too!"
And before she could ask what he meant he raised his voice enough
for the dictator to hear:
"Congratulations, Powart! Everything coming along all right?"
Powart gave Fort one of his piercing looks, but showed no sign of
irritation as he replied: "All reports satisfactory. We shall have
our little fireworks promptly on the second." Then to Mona: "Sorry I
cannot invite you aboard my ship; but I shall be so occupied with
the ceremonial end of this, you know, that--"
"Of course," instantly. "I would really be in the way; and I
shouldn't care to be that, to-day of all days."
And Van Emmon, through Powart's eyes, judged that the dictator stood
mountain-high in her respect at that instant.
Fort listened with the utmost indifference, seeming to take a boy's
rapt interest in the spectacle below him rather than in the affair
at his elbow. He glanced at his watch and remarked: "Less than half
an hour now. I can hardly wait!"
Mona eyed him speculatively. "What did you mean, just now, about
your success depending upon Mr. Powart's?"
"Just that," he returned lightly. "Why, if he fails, my little
scheme is a miserable fiasco! I shan't be able to marry you at all;
that is, unless you grant an extension!"
Mona did not respond to his levity.
"I wish you'd be serious!" she rebuked him. "Just think what this
affair means!"
He pretended to be thoughtful. "Oh, to Alma, you mean! Yes, indeed;
the folks will be badly upset, I imagine, if the projectile actually
reaches their roof."
"Why, do you think it may not?" surprised.
"It's barely possible. The whole thing has been very scientifically
calculated, of course; but the slightest flaw in the mathematics
could cause a miss. Yes, the projectile may never reach its mark;
it's something to be considered."
"In which case," returned Mona, evidently convinced that he was
teasing, "in which case, your own scheme falls through!"
"Oh, no," with the utmost calm. "My scheme depends upon the cannon,
not upon the projectile."
Mona nearly lost her temper. "I wish you wouldn't talk in riddles!"
But Fort was plainly unwilling to say anything further just then; he
changed the subject, directing Mona's glasses toward a point far to
the rear, where the blue wall of the contact loomed, some twenty
miles away. The spot had been chosen, of course, because there were
fewer inhabitants in that locality than any other; the discharge of
the gun would mean an immense volume of smoke and gas, likely to
prove disagreeable for days. Nobody cared to live near the contact,
because of its queer, sunless conditions.
"Almost time we were getting out of here," said Fort, after another
look at his watch. As he spoke a warning whistle on Powart's yacht
sounded shrilly; and with one accord the surrounding horde of
sightseers--all belonging to the leisure class, of course--began to
back away from the spot. The workmen, down below, were already
taking flight. A moment later Powart, speaking for the benefit of a
recording phonograph, began as follows:
"Precisely at the hour, minute and second determined by the
commission's mathematicians the projectile will be slid into the
cannon. The concussion will explode the powder in the breech. This
final act is to take place"--he glanced at his watch--"within two
minutes.
"By so doing, the people of Hafen and Holl, through me, their
commander-in-chief, do hereby deliberately take the offensive
against Alma." He hesitated, then went on with fresh determination:
"Rather than permit them to prepare for the threatened invasion,
then, we thus proceed to bombard their roof, in order to so harass
them that they shall be made helpless against us."
Mona turned her gaze from the dictator, and took up her glasses. The
great cannon was nearly a mile away from them now; not a single
aircraft was closer than Fort's and Powart's, which were still
backing away. The blast was not a thing to be sneered at. Mona's
hands shook with excitement.
Powart's eyes were on his watch. "The thing is beyond all human
power to prevent now. The projectile will be released by clockwork.
In fact"--his voice rose, his excitement finally getting the better
of him--"it is even now sliding! It is only a matter of seconds; the
projectile is lubricated so as to slide easily."
A breathless pause; another look at the watch, then:
"By this time, my friends, the projectile has reached--"
And even as the words quit his mouth, the cannon belched forth.