Standish severed the mooring cable of the ship with one shot from his
genithode pistol. The two men yanked shut the hatch, screwed down the
air lock. With a yank, the Earthman threw over the control lever.
Up from the ground the ship shot. Through the floor panel, Standish saw
the ground receding.
"Take the controls," he told Ga-Marr. "I'm going to try and chart a
course for your planet."
* * * * *
The planet rose up before them like a great ripened peach. It had taken
Standish long hours to calculate with his elementary astrophysics the
location of their destination. Ga-Marr had supplied what information he
could; but he knew only that the planet, Lyra, was bordered by a spiral
nebulae on one side, and that it revolved about a sun some hundred
million miles distant.
As they approached now, Ga-Marr betrayed no emotion. "The city of
Calthedra is on the other hemisphere," he said. "I'll direct you to the
landing."
They crept slowly along the surface, and the Earthman found himself
looking upon a land similar in many respects to his own. Nostalgia
seized him. Here were lakes and woods and broad fields in the state of
cultivation. Here were lanes, roads and hedges, a tracery of browns and
greens that was good to see.
But when a moment later Ga-Marr pointed out the port and said,
"Calthedra," Standish's jaw set hard. The city had been devastated.
Buildings stood in ruins. Towers were crumbling masses of masonry.
Only one structure seemed to have escaped the fearful onslaught, a
globe-shaped building, fashioned of some kind of black metal.
The Earthman saw the landing place and guided the ship downward. Below
he could see people milling about excitedly, groups of them pointing
upward.
The moment the ship came to a rest, Ga-Marr threw open the hatch
and climbed out. Standish followed, to find an assemblage drawn up
suspiciously in battle array, their weapons ready for any hostile move
of the newcomers.
In the foreground stood a taller man of Lyra, wearing a suit of
copper-colored chain mail and a helmet studded with gleaming chips of
yellow metal. At his sides were two men in white flowing robes. All had
high brows, penetrating eyes and frond-like appendages in lieu of arms
and legs.
Ga-Marr ran forward and embraced the man in the helmet.
"My father," he said, "this man is Mason Standish, a great warrior from
the planet Earth. He has rescued me from certain death, and has brought
me back to your empire at the risk of his life."
The Emperor paced forward, a benevolent smile playing across his lips.
"He who befriends my son has my gratitude," he said softly.
* * * * *
Standish was bewildered. Ga-Marr had made no mention of the fact that
he was of royal birth. It was a long time before the Earthman found his
tongue.
"Your son tells me that your people and my people are at war with a
common enemy. May I ask how long since the Sirians made their last
attack upon you?"
"Within the risings of twelve suns," the Emperor replied. "But come.
Let us go to the palace where we may speak alone."
* * * * *
Standish missed no detail of his passage through the city. Calthedra,
besides being hard hit by the invaders, was quite evidentally in the
process of decay. Streets were racked and unrepaired. House windows
were broken and open to the elements. And on all sides the Earthman saw
faces devoid of intelligence staring at him.
But when he climbed the steps and followed Ga-Marr and the Emperor into
the black metal globe, he entered a different world.
A vast pillared hall stretched before him. On one side a balustrated
ramp led to the upper levels. Opposite were a series of high triangular
doorways, each opening into separate chambers. The air was cool and
exhilarating and seemed to have a different chemical content than that
of the street.
"This is our palace," Ga-Marr said, "built thousands of years before
when our people were a great civilization. It alone has withstood all
the attacks our planet has been exposed to."
"Why?" demanded Standish. "I should think this would be the enemy's
first striking place."
Ga-Marr stook his head. "I do not understand the science of it myself.
It is something in the black metal. It is an electon-stripped element,
I believe, tremendously heavy and impregnable to any weapon of cosmic
warfare."
They reached the last doorway and entered the royal quarters. The
Emperor and his son sat down before a circular table and motioned
Standish to a chair opposite. The older man removed his helmet and
closed his eyes as if in weariness.
"Earthman," he said at length, "you come at a time when my planet is
sorely in need of help. I don't know how much my son has told you, but
if you will listen I will tell you the history of Lyra. But first I
have something to show you."
He touched a button on the table, and a chime sounded melodiously in
the outer corridor. A servant appeared in the doorway.
"Tell Thalia I would see her at once," the Emperor said.
A moment later light steps sounded and Standish looked up curiously.
What he saw brought him out of his chair with a cry of pleasure and
amazement.
The figure of a girl--an Earth girl of his own race stood there on the
threshold.