WITHIN an hour the wondering inhabitants of Alexandria saw the Russian
fleet rise a thousand feet into the air and form in two columns of
line ahead. Then the Aerian fleet ranged itself in two long lines five
hundred feet outside them and a thousand feet above them. A time-shell
from the _Ithuriel_ gave the signal to start, and the two fleets leapt
forward to the south-east at a speed of a hundred miles an hour, and
in a few minutes had vanished over the desert. The speed was quickly
increased to two hundred miles, and so they sped on all day and through
the next night--the Russian ships being forced to show their lights
while the Aerians remained in darkness--until, when morning dawned and
Olga and her captains looked for Alan’s fleet they found that it had
vanished, and that they were floating alone over the solitudes of the
Southern Ocean.
They had been escorted like offending school children out of harm’s
way, and then left to their own devices. It was a bitterly humiliating
ending to an expedition which had really produced such important
results, but there was no possibility of present revenge, and so Olga
gave the order to proceed straight to Mount Terror, intending to begin
there and then the working out of her part of the compact that she had
made with the Sultan.
This arrangement was briefly to the following effect:--Olga placed at
Khalid’s disposal all the necessary plans for the construction of both
air-ships and submarine vessels, and also supplied members of her own
immediate retinue, well skilled in the work, to supervise the building,
which was, of course, to be carried out with the utmost secrecy and
speed, so as to guard, as far as practicable, against the possible
destruction of the factories and dockyards by the Aerians.
The Sultan had engaged to find money and material for building a
thousand air-ships, and the same number of submarine cruisers,
within the year, and these were to be supplied with motive power at
conversion-stations established at the dockyards under the exclusive
control of certain of Olga’s lieutenants.
The secret of this motive power, which was identical save for slight
differences in the process of conversion with that possessed by the
Aerians--that is to say, electrical energy derived directly from
atomised carbon and vaporised petroleum--was retained in her own
keeping by Olga, who had simply promised that an unlimited supply of it
should be forthcoming as it was wanted.
She had insisted on a strict engagement that no one not authorised by
her should even approach the conversion-stations, and she had given the
Sultan and his ministers distinctly to understand that any attempt to
discover the secret of the process would terminate the alliance, and
expose the cities of the Moslem empire to destruction.
At the expiration of the year of truce, the Sultan’s army and navy,
supported by the immense aerial fleet that would then be in existence,
was to be in complete readiness for any emergencies. Olga was to be
proclaimed Tsarina in Moscow, and the House of Romanoff formally
restored in her person. If any portions of Russia refused to receive
her, they were to be terrorised into submission by the air-ships.
The tribesmen of Western and Central Asia were to be armed as rapidly
as possible, so as to be ready to form a reserve force for compelling
the submission of the Russians if they resisted the new order of
things, and to participate in the invasion of Europe, which was to
take place at several points as soon as the Holy War of Islam was
proclaimed, and Cross and Crescent once more confronted each other on
the battlefield.
Meanwhile, too, the resources of the dockyard at Mount Terror were
to be strained to the utmost, and the conspiracy in Russia for the
restoration of Olga to the throne of the Romanoffs was to be developed
by every means that money could purchase or skill devise.
The scheme of defence arranged by the Council of Aeria had already been
completed, and it was to execute this that the Aerian fleet had left
the Russian squadron during the night. Indeed, the Russians had been
travelling southward alone for more than eight hours before they had
discovered the fact. As soon as it became impossible for them to see
the Aerian vessels these had stopped, in accordance with a prearranged
plan, and had wheeled round and steered for London across the African
continent at a height of about ten thousand feet.
Flying at the full speed of the smaller vessels, a twenty-hour flight
carried the fleet over the eight thousand miles which separated its
starting-point from the capital of the world, and about six o’clock
in the evening of the 21st of May the fifty-two vessels, flying the
Aerian and British flags, appeared in the air over the open space
which is now called Hyde Park, and, to the amazement of the astonished
citizens, dropped quietly to the earth and lay open to the unrestricted
inspection of the thousands who speedily gathered in the park to avail
themselves of the unwonted spectacle, and to learn, if possible, the
reason of the unexpected visit.
No attempt was made by the crews of the ships to prevent the sightseers
from seeing all they could of the exteriors of the vessels, which
were arranged on the sward in two long lines, so that they could walk
down between them and admire their beautiful shape and wonderful
construction at their leisure. A sentry was stationed by each vessel
to warn the sightseers not to approach too close to the wings and
propellers, and that was the only precaution taken.
Alan learnt soon after landing that King Albert the Second, the fourth
in descent from Edward VII., who was King during the War of the
Terror, was at Windsor, and that the House of Commons and the Senate,
which for over a hundred years had filled the place of the old House of
Lords, had dissolved for the spring recess, and would not meet again
until after the General Election, which was held every 1st of June.
He therefore caused a message to be sent to His Majesty at Windsor,
requesting him to name a time for an interview on the following day,
and then, sufficient watches having been set on all the vessels, he and
Alexis, with the majority of the crews, took a few hours’ leave, not
a little glad of the opportunity of stretching their legs on _terra
firma_, after their three days’ confinement to the air-ships.
The reply which he received from the King fixed eleven o’clock in
the morning of the 22nd as the time of the interview for which he
had asked, and, just as the castle clock was beginning to sound the
strokes of the hour, the _Ithuriel_ swept up out of the distance
towards Windsor Castle, and, after hovering for a moment in mid-air,
sank quietly down until she rested on that portion of the terrace which
overlooks the Home Park. Her arrival had been announced to the King as
soon as she hove in sight, and he was on the terrace ready to receive
his visitors when she alighted.
Albert II., King of England, Emperor of Britain, and President of
the Anglo-Saxon Federation, was a monarch only in name. Nothing but
the trappings of sovereignty remained to himself or his station, and
he would not even have retained these had it not been for the fact
that, during its hundred years of actual rule, the Supreme Council had
insisted upon the maintenance of the monarchical principle in those
countries where it had obtained at the end of the nineteenth century.
The first formal greetings over, the King caused Alan to be escorted to
his private apartments in the castle, and as soon as they were alone
together in the room which he reserved for his own special use, he
motioned Alan to a seat and, throwing himself back upon a lounge with
an air of weariness which accorded but ill with the hour of the day, he
said in a somewhat querulous tone--
“We are quite alone now and you can speak with perfect freedom. I am
sure it must be important business that has brought you here with a
whole fleet of your air-ships, and I shall be glad if you will tell me
at once what it is. I hope nothing has occurred to imperil our peace
and safety?”
“On the contrary, your Majesty,” replied Alan. “I regret to say that my
errand is to tell you that, not only is that the case, but that it is a
practical certainty that within twelve months from now the whole world
will be plunged into war.”
“What! what!” exclaimed the King, jerking himself up to a sitting
posture. “Surely you don’t mean that? I thought that no war would be
possible without the permission of your Council. Surely you would not
allow the nations of the world to go to war with each other again, and
repeat all the horrors that happened a hundred and thirty years ago?”
“Your Majesty forgets that when we renounced the control of the world
six years ago we gave back to the nations the right of making war upon
each other, although we hardly believed that they would be foolish
enough and wicked enough to exercise it. That, however, is beside
the question, because war is now inevitable, and, what is even more
important, the Council of Aeria is unhappily powerless to prevent it.”
“Eh! what is that?” exclaimed the King, this time rising to his feet
and facing Alan with an air of petulant reproach. “Powerless to prevent
it? You, with all your fleets of air-ships and submarine vessels?
You, who have called yourselves the masters of the world for nearly a
century and a half--you cannot stop war?”
“We cannot do so, your Majesty,” said Alan, also rising to his
feet, “simply because I regret to say that we no longer possess the
undisputed empire of the air, and therefore, in a measure at least, we
have lost the command of the world.
“As for the responsibility which your words impute to us, I must tell
you at once that it does not exist. The rulers of the world, and
yourself among them, voluntarily and with full knowledge accepted
perfect freedom, and therefore the individual responsibility that is
inseparable from it. You knew that from the time we resigned the
world-throne you were free to make war upon each other, on land and by
sea.
“It is your fault and not ours that you are now so defenceless that you
have cause to fear the war against which you ask us to protect you.
You have known for nearly four years that the Sultan of Islam has been
creating armies and fleets, and diligently training millions of his
subjects in that art of war which we hoped was to be forgotten for ever
among men.
“Did you suppose, you Kings and Princes of the Anglo-Saxon Federation,
that Khalid the Magnificent, a man of boundless ambition, was creating
these armies and fleets simply to play with them? Could you not see
that nothing but some dream of world-wide conquest could be inspiring
him to do this, and do you need to be told that the realms of
Christendom offered him the only possible area of conquest in the world?
“What have you done to defend yourselves, or to prepare against
a possible day of battle? You have done nothing. Saving your
international police, now little more than an ornamental body of
officials, the Federation does not possess a single soldier. You have
seen the Sultan building battleships and arming them with the deadliest
weapons that skill and science could devise, and you, with all your
wealth, and skill, and knowledge, have not built a single vessel that
would be of use in time of war.
“I understand that the Council has warned you again and again that
the Sultan’s designs could not have been peaceable, and yet your
Parliaments have not voted a single pound for the defence of your homes
and your riches.”
“Ah, yes!” broke in the King, now in an apologetic tone, for he was
completely cowed by the direct, earnest force of Alan’s reproving
words. “That is it! You must not blame myself or my fellow-monarchs,
you must blame the Parliaments. We can do nothing without them; they
have usurped all the power that formerly belonged to Kings. It is this
democracy that has weakened us and left us defenceless. Every man
thinks himself a ruler, and so there are no rulers, except in name.
Every man has a vote, therefore every man must be consulted about
everything, and so nothing can be done but what the multitude wishes.
They want only riches, splendid buildings and cities, light work, and
comfortable lives. That is all they have cared about, and so that is
all they have got. If we, their Kings and duly appointed rulers, could
have done as we wished to do affairs would have been very different;
but it is impossible to rule where every man fancies himself a king!”
“That is but a poor excuse, King Albert,” replied Alan sternly and yet
somewhat sadly. “It is the old story of Greece and Rome and Byzantium
over again. The weakness of the rulers has been the strength of the
demagogues, and that has always spelt national decay from the days of
Cleon until now.
“I might ask you how it comes that Sultan Khalid has been able to keep
his millions of subjects in hand and to be to-day the sole actual ruler
of the greatest empire the world has ever seen; but neither you nor
I have any more time to waste, either in reproaching each other or
regretting what cannot now be helped.”
“No, no!” said the King, almost appealingly. “That is quite
right--quite right. Tell me, if you please, what has really happened to
bring about this terrible danger which threatens us, and let us see if
we cannot yet protect ourselves.”
“You can yet make such preparations as will at least enable you to
meet your enemies on equal terms,” replied Alan, following the King’s
example, and seating himself again, “and it is to put before you a
necessary scheme of defence that I have come here, and when I have
described it you will see that we Aerians have not forgotten that our
ancestors once led Anglo-Saxondom to the conquest of the world.”
“Pray proceed,” said the King, sitting up on his lounge again. “I can
assure you that I am all attention.”
Alan then began, and told in detail all that was necessary for the King
to know of what had happened during the last six years, concluding
with a graphic narrative of startling vividness of the marvellous
and momentous events that had been crowded so thickly into the last
twenty-one days.
It would not be saying too much to state that the close of the recital,
which he had listened to with the most anxious attention, left King
Albert in a state of nervous excitement that bordered closely upon
absolute panic. He had heard enough to show him that the splendid
fabric of Anglo-Saxon civilisation would, if left in its present
defenceless state, totter and fall like a house of cards at the first
onslaught of its powerful and disciplined enemies.
He saw that its wealth and splendour, like those of the effete empires
of old, were a source of weakness and not of strength, a temptation to
its foes and an encumbrance to itself.
Then, as Alan went on to describe the scheme of defence proposed by
the Council of Aeria, he seemed to find support and consolation in the
quiet, masterful tones of the man who, without a tremor in his voice,
could calmly discuss the prospect of a war which would involve the
whole of humanity in one colossal struggle, which could have no other
result than an indescribably appalling loss of human life and the
complete subjection, if not destruction, of those who were vanquished
in it.
Yet when he had finished King Albert shook his head sadly and
doubtfully, and said--
“Yes, yes, it is a splendid scheme, a scheme worthy of you and your
wonderful race, but it can only be accomplished if our Parliaments
agree together to sanction it and support it. I hope with all my heart
that they will do so, but I sadly fear that not even your influence,
and the fearful danger which threatens them, will make them agree one
with another.
“Of late years, since the power of the democracy has increased so
enormously, they wrangle for weeks over the smallest matters of
municipal government. As for national policy, they seem to have
forgotten what it means. I may be wrong, and with all my soul I hope I
am, but I sadly fear they will never consent to what they will call a
military despotism, even to save themselves. The elections take place
during the last four days of this month, and by that time the news that
you have brought me shall be published everywhere, so that the people
may know what is before them, but everything will depend upon the men
and women whom they return to Parliament.”
“Ah,” interrupted Alan, stroking his beard to conceal a smile, “I had
forgotten for the moment. You have lady legislators now as well as
male ones. We were ungallant enough to refuse them admittance to the
Parliament during our period of control.”
“Yes,” said the King, with a smile that had but little mirth in it.
“But we have progressed fast since then. In our Parliament men and
women were almost equally balanced in both Chambers, and scarcely any
business was done during the year.”
“Which proves,” said Alan, “that what was called our discourtesy and
unfairness was not so very unwise after all.”
The interview ended shortly after this remark, for the time for action
had already arrived. Alan had learnt enough from the King’s own lips
to see that he was merely a crowned puppet in the hands of the rival
parties, which contended in both Chambers for the favour of the
democracy and the continuance of office. He therefore saw further that,
if anything was to be done in working out the scheme of international
defence, he would have to take the initiative.
As full discretion had been given to him in his commission from the
Council of Aeria, he did not scruple to half-persuade and half-frighten
the King into investing him with such authority as he could give,
and, armed with this, he went to work that very day with a vigour and
promptness which amazed the feeble monarch, and raised a storm of
indignation among the members of the two Chambers who were seeking
re-election.
A very short experience of these people proved to him that nothing must
be hoped from them. Day after day he met committees and deputations of
them, who argued with him and wrangled among themselves until he was
utterly disgusted and out of patience with them.
At last, on the evening of the 27th, after he had spent the whole
day in striving to convince a joint-committee, consisting of twenty
members of each Chamber, of the tremendous danger which threatened the
Federation, and the immediate and urgent necessity of united action in
preparing to meet it, he lost the last remnants of his temper, and,
springing to his feet, he faced them with anger in his eyes and scorn
on his lips, and said--
“We have talked enough, ladies and gentlemen! I came here expecting to
find the old spirit of Anglo-Saxondom still alive, and so far as you
are concerned I find it dead. You are not patriots or competent rulers.
You are simply members of a noisy and verbose debating society! When
absolute destruction at the hands of a well-armed and implacable foe
is threatening your country and your allies, you talk of averting the
calamity by discussion and arbitration, instead of armed resistance.
By all means discuss and arbitrate, if you can, but also prepare
for battle in case it proves, as I am certain it will prove, to be
inevitable. Do you suppose that the lamb can argue with the wolf, or
that the rich and defenceless man can save his wealth from the armed
plunderer by mere force of argument or an appeal to his moral sense? If
you do, you are something worse than simple, you are guilty of a folly
which is a crime against those who have committed their affairs to your
keeping.
“But I, like most of my people, have Anglo-Saxon blood in my veins, and
I will not leave my kindred defenceless. I bear an English name, and
that name and my descent shall be my title to do what I now tell you
I am going to do. In my own person, and with the full authority and
sanction of the Council of Aeria and your own lawful monarch, I here
and now reassert the supremacy over the realms of Anglo-Saxondom which
my father resigned in St. Paul’s Cathedral six years and a half ago!
Hold your elections if you choose, and conduct your noisy pretence at
government according to your own tastes, but do not expect me to be
guided or bound by any enactments that you may choose to make. You may
call this a revolution if you will. So it is, but remember that your
foolishness has made it necessary! I can make Anglo-Saxondom ready to
meet its enemies on equal terms when the day of battle comes, as come
it surely will in less than twelve months from now, and, God helping
me, I will do it! You either cannot or will not do this, but I will
take good care that you do not prevent it being done.
“I believe that the old spirit which won the Armageddon of 1904 still
survives in Anglo-Saxon breasts, and I believe that it will respond to
the call to arms which shall be heard throughout the length and breadth
of the Federation before another sun has set. To-morrow I shall take
possession of the means of intercommunication, and I warn you that you
will oppose me at your peril.
“You know that I have a force at command before which you are as
helpless as the worms that crawl in the earth, and as there is a heaven
above me I will use it without ruth or scruple if I see that the
interests of Anglo-Saxondom require me to do so. You have your choice,
to act with me or to remain neutral. Oppose me, and I will destroy you
as traitors and enemies to your country and your race!”
So saying, Alan turned his back upon the committees, and strode out of
the room in which he had met them, leaving them speechless with anger
and dismay.