"No," admitted Artana. "The rains have not been heavy. The reservoirs
are but half full." He sighed. "Horta might escape the flood."
"That's no good, then," Ross said emphatically. "Tell you what, Moore
and I will go and scout the Cavern on foot. We may be able to get near
enough to the ray works to smash 'em."
"You would die," Artana said somberly. "Horta guards his Cavern well."
Ross nodded. "Maybe. But there's no other chance. Horta can knock us
down out of the air, and he's knocking Earth cities to dust. He must be
stopped. If we die, you can hold out on the Peaks, and flood him out
when the rains come."
"That's right, Artana," Moore agreed. "But let me go, Chief. I'll take
a couple of good men. You stay here."
"No dice, Harry," Ross assured him firmly. "I'm the head man and it's
my job. I'd like to have you along, though."
"Sure," said Moore mildly.
Artana regarded them with admiration. "You are brave men! But what can
I do?"
"Just sit tight, Artana, and wait for the rain to fall," grinned Moore.
"And when it comes, avenge us."
"That will I!" swore Artana.
* * * * *
They set out in the dark, Moore and Ross and the guide whom Artana had
indicated with a gesture. They had covered only half a mile when Ross
turned sharply, suspiciously, to the guide. "Sure you speak the Earth
tongue?" he demanded. "If you do, why can't you say something?"
The guide threw back the cowl-like head covering and Ross caught his
breath. "Illeria! What are you doing on this tour?"
"I go to die with you, my lord," said the princess simply.
"My lord!" squawked Moore. "Excuse me!" He walked forward hurriedly.
Ross, his face burning in the gloom, took Illeria's arm roughly. "This
is no job for you, Princess! There will be danger!"
"Even death," agreed the slim princess equably. "No matter. And the
Lord Artana is agreed that I go."
"Artana agreed?" Ross was taken aback. He looked ahead to where Moore
waited, looked back over the way they had come, then shrugged. "Oh,
well! Here we go!"
Happily Illeria caught his arm, and they strode forward. Moore chuckled
in the dark. "Everything settled?"
"Yes, dammit," grated Ross. "Did you ever see such a mess?"
Moore's reply was sober. "We couldn't have a better guide," he pointed
out. "And we know the princess is loyal. How could we be sure of some
other guide? A jigger who might sell us out to the first Horta sentry?"
* * * * *
Ross grunted agreement, and they trudged on. They saw no one, heard no
one, until the first of the craters lay behind, and the Moon terrain
sloped down and down into the caverns. They came upon the first two
sentries suddenly. Both swung their ray-guns up, but Moore was quicker.
His gas-pistol spat twice, and the sentries crumpled.
"Are they dead?" asked the princess, amazed.
"Dead to the world--er, I should say, dead to the Moon," Ross assured
her. "They'll stay that way twelve hours, which ought to be long enough
for us."
Moore chuckled. "Before then we'll be on top of the world--I mean on
top of the Moon--or dead heroes."
The way was easy, a steady down slope, for a while. Then the rock
formations began. They slipped and crawled. The princess suffered a cut
on her knee, but shrugged at the suggestion of a bandage. The second
set of sentries were easily overpowered. They lolled at ease against a
ridge, and Ross shot twice to gas them to sleep. Here the light was
better, and Ross paused to look them over. They were darker than the
Peak men, with less color, and their veins stood out against their
blue-white skin. They bore the ray-rifle of all the Moon soldiers, and
another curious weapon besides, a jagged-edged sword with a hooked
point.
"It's the old Moon sword," said Illeria. "Horta worships the old
customs, and swears by the beliefs of the astrologers. It's the
astrologers who direct his actions, my mother had said."
"It's a dirty weapon," shuddered Moore. "I'll take a ray-gun any time."
He came within an ace of regretting his choice a moment later, when a
whole squad of soldiers rounded an outcrop of rock. Ross whispered a
warning, and shot fast. Moore went into action then, but not before one
of the Horta men had fired. The ray blasted past them and sheared off a
half-ton of rock behind them.
"Whew, that was close," gasped Moore as the last of the soldiers fell.
"How about ray-guns now?" gibed Ross. "Do you know, I think we're in
luck. This party is evidently supposed to relieve the sentries we
met--so there'll be no alarm over their condition."
"You're right!" exclaimed Moore. "Now all we have to do is to get to
that ray machine!"
They stood within sight of it when the heavy hand of Horta fell.
* * * * *
In the shadows of the cavern they had crept from arsenal to foundry,
until they had inspected from far or near every establishment in this
dim and fearsome chasm. And finally they saw it, a great cylinder
nestling deep in the ground and looming high in the cavern, supported
by guy beams of gleaming metal.
"A ray-gun!" cried Moore. His incautious exclamation was their undoing.
A half-clad foundry worker, looking like a gnome in his eye-shade
helmet and drooping gauntlets, gaped at them. Ross shot a split second
too late to stop the shout of alarm. The foundryman dropped, but a
dozen soldiers came on the run. Moore and Ross fired and fired again,
but they went down in a charge of scores of Horta soldiers. The flat
of a sword struck Ross a stunning blow on the side of his head.
He came to his senses to find himself in a strange room, bound hand and
foot and prone on a stone floor. Beside him was Moore.
"Where are we?" muttered Ross.
"In Horta's headquarters," whispered Moore. "Here's Horta."
Ross twisted his head. He blinked. For Horta was an eyeful.
The Lord of the Caverns was a giant. Fully seven feet tall, he must
have weighed four hundred pounds. But he bore his great bulk with ease
and a certain dignity. He strode over to the two prisoners, looked them
over with curiosity but without visible rancor, and spoke sharply to a
guard in the Moon tongue. The guard hastened to free the two flyers.
They exchanged glances of surprise. "You don't suppose he's a pal in
disguise?" asked Moore blandly. He looked up with a start when he heard
a rumbling chuckle.
Horta was amused. "No, Earth-man. You are prisoners. But I have no need
to bind you, for you cannot escape. Yet you need not fear death, for if
you will stay and serve me you shall have life and all the blessings
that will be showered upon a new Kingdom."
"New Kingdom?" Moore blinked. "It's a Regency, isn't it?"
Horta's great laugh boomed out. "Nay! I am the King! And for my
queen--well, you have delivered her to me!"