It was after five o’clock when all the reports were in. Five
projectiles, larger than the former, and each destructive over a fifty
mile radius, had struck the earth. The one which had so shaken Chicago
had struck at Rochelle, Illinois, completely destroying that city and
spreading death and destruction up to the very suburbs of Chicago on one
side and across the Mississippi into Iowa on the other.
The second projectile had demolished Cincinnati, Covington and
surrounding cities and hamlets with terrific loss of life. The third had
struck squarely in the center of Birmingham, England, destroying,
killing and maiming as far as Stafford, Shrewsbury, Ludlow, Worcester
and Rugby. The fourth, alighting in the harbor of Tunis, had sunk and
destroyed shipping, and created a tidal wave which had drowned many
people on shore. The fifth had laid waste to Quito, Ecuador and the
surrounding territory.
At five thirty, a report from Peiping stated that Khobr and nearby towns
had been destroyed or suffered terrific casualties from a sixth
projectile.
Leaving Roger in charge, Ted promptly took a super-electroplane to
Washington. While he was closeted that morning in conference with the
President, fifty aerial fleets of army engineers left the Capital,
flying in various directions, but with their destinations kept secret.
During the day, representatives of various nations were called into the
conference. Each representative, as he left the President’s office, was
seen to speed away in a fast electroplane. Not one representative of a
Mongoloid Asiatic nation was asked into conference.
After a busy day, Ted rushed back to his office where he found Roger up
to his eyebrows in work, endeavoring to placate his wife for his
tardiness to dinner, over his wrist radiophone.
“Listen, Leah,” he was saying. “I simply can’t get away now. I’m trying
to manage things alone, you know, and—hello! Ted’s here now. Be home,
toot sweet, honey. Bye bye.”
“You married men—” began Ted.
“Have got it all over you single ones in many ways,” interrupted Roger.
“Get things going in Washington?”
“Pretty well. I’ve organized our defense force, and have warned every
nation that we have reason to believe is friendly. Before the moon gets
into favorable firing position again we’ll have enough powerful magnetic
poles set up to take care of the United States, and if the other
countries keep on their toes they’ll be ready, too.”
“How do you know the poles will work?”
“Fragments of the lunar projectiles show that they contain large
quantities of steel. We’ve divided the country into fifty zones, in each
of which a powerful electro-magnet will be erected. Having erected these
in the least populated districts of each zone, and warned the
inhabitants to leave the danger area, our sole remaining problem is to
make them powerful enough to attract the projectiles, which we can
easily do with the resources at our command. Our power plants will be
far enough from the magnetic poles to keep them from injury, and as soon
as one pole is destroyed another can be quickly erected.”
“You sure have some head on you, Ted. What about the Mongoloid Asiatics?
Find out anything?”
“Nothing definite. For the present we’re sitting tight and saying
nothing. Professor Ederson will, no doubt, be able to check up on them.
If they haven’t double crossed us there will still be plenty of time to
explain my plan of defense to them.”
Professor Ederson did not arrive until late the following afternoon.
Roger met him on the roof, and immediately escorted him to Ted’s private
office. He was a little, wizened man, with a grizzled Van Dyke, a thin,
aquiline nose, and huge, thick-lensed glasses which gave him an owl-like
expression.
“I’ve been studying the translation of Dr. Wu while Bevans, your
admirable pilot, conducted me here,” said the professor when greetings
were over. “It seems to me to be quite accurate.”
“What about the message he wrote for me?” asked Ted.
“I cannot, for the life of me, understand why you sent so belligerent a
message,” replied the professor.
“Belligerent? What do you mean?”
Ted quickly produced an English copy of the message which he has asked
Dr. Wu to translate into the Lunite language for him.
“Why,” said the professor, scanning it in surprise, “this is nothing
like the message I have translated.”
“Let me have your translation,” requested Ted.
The professor produced a sheaf of papers from his inside coat pocket,
selected one, and handed it to Ted.
The latter read it aloud:
_To the Imperial Government of P’an-ku_:
_Greeting_:
The Associated Governments of the Earth have found cause for much
mirth in the note of the Imperial Government of P’an-ku.
It is the intention of the Associated Governments of the Earth to
quickly and completely destroy Ma Gong (The Moon) if its inhabitants
refuse to submit to the viceroys which the Associated Governments of
the Earth are preparing to send to rule over them.
The Imperial Government of P’an-ku has complained of the destruction
of Ur. This is only a minute sample of the destruction which will be
wrought on Ma Gong if there are any further acts of hostility on the
part of the Imperial Government of P’an-ku.
“Whew!” exclaimed Roger. “No wonder the girl and the old man looked
horrified.”
“And it’s no wonder the imperious and belligerent P’an-ku sneered,” said
Ted. “Looks as if we’re in for it, sure enough, now.”
“What about having Professor Ederson fix up a new note, right away,
explaining everything and trying to patch things up?” asked Roger.
“We’ll try it,” replied Ted, “but I can’t bring myself to feel very
sanguine as to the result.”
“Before we draft the note,” said the professor, “there are two things I
should like to bring to your attention. First, a gigantic radio station
has been set up in Peiping. Second, despite the fact that China reported
the destruction of Khobr and nearby towns, I flew over Khobr and
vicinity and could see no sign that there had been a disturbance there
of any kind.”
“Professor Fowler only saw five flashes, all of which were accounted
for,” said Ted. “The destruction of Khobr would have meant a sixth
projectile, which left the moon without a telltale flash. As always, two
and two continue to make four. There can only be one reason why Dr. Wu
miswrote our pacific message—only one reason why the government of China
lied about Khobr.”
“And the reason?” asked the professor.
“A secret alliance projected—perhaps even perfected by now—between the
Chinese royalists and the Imperial Government of P’an-ku.”
“Precisely my theory,” said Professor Ederson. “The Chinese and racially
allied peoples revere their ancestors to the point of actual worship.
Small wonder, then, if they should have reverence for the living
representative of their supposed first earthly ancestor, P’an-ku, and
cast their lot with him and his people. Why man, the thing was
inevitable.”
“And terrible to contemplate,” said Ted, dejectedly. “A united world
could have fought off a dozen moons, but a divided world will have a
slim chance. And the whole damnable affair is my fault.”
“Millions of sparks fall harmlessly, but here and there one starts a
huge conflagration,” said the professor. “No earthly being could have
foreseen the far-reaching effect of your apparently harmless spark, and
you certainly are not morally responsible.”
“I hold myself so,” said Ted, “and it would be a small thing to me,
could I but forfeit my own life to end the conflict. I have a plan, but
I may not speak of it yet.”
“I hope you are not contemplating any foolhardy personal risks,” said
the professor. “The world needs you more than any other living man, at
present. We have thousands of scientists, but only one Ted Dustin.”
“Who has proven himself the greatest calamity yet born to the earth,”
replied Ted. “But let’s prepare that message.”
A half hour elapsed before a message, satisfactory to all, had been
drafted for the Imperial Government of P’an-ku. It took the professor an
hour more to put it in the language of the Lunites. Then the air was
cleared, and the three men went aloft to the gigantic radio tower.
While the professor held the message on a placard, Ted worked at the
dials and Roger managed the recorder.
Their first efforts were rewarded by the faint sound of a woman’s voice
and a dim vision of the beautiful girl seen on two previous occasions.
Almost as soon as it began to appear, the image was blotted from the
disc, and from then on until early morning, when the three tired men
relinquished their unsuccessful attempt, they were rewarded only by
blackness and a faint rumbling sound which greatly resembled distant
thunder.
“Looks as if P’an-ku had severed diplomatic relations,” said Roger,
rising from his seat at the recorder and stretching his cramped limbs.
“I’m afraid you are right,” replied the professor, leaning his placard
against a chair.
“We’ll try again, and keep on trying,” said Ted. “The Lunites should be
amenable to reason if we can get the message through.”
Try they did, the following night, and each night thereafter for nearly
two weeks. The results were only darkness, and the distant thunderous
rumbling. Even the image of the girl had failed to appear for so much as
a fraction of a second.
When the efforts of the last night had proved unavailing, Ted threw off
the switch and rose with a look of grim determination.
“We must face the facts,” he said. “War is inevitable unless P’an-ku can
be reached and influenced by a specific message. It will take two more
weeks at the very least, to complete our large interplanetary vehicle.
By that time the war will undoubtedly be in full progress.”
“What do you propose to do about it?” asked the professor.
“I will take the message in person,” replied Ted.
“How?” chorused his two surprised companions in unison.
“Come with me and I’ll show you, but you must preserve absolute
secrecy.”