The Triton's Treasure
"I must have at least two tons of vitalium," the Prince of Space told
Bill, when the newspaperman came to the bridge of the _Red Rover_ after
twenty hours in the bunk. The Prince was pale and weak from loss of
blood, but seemed to suffer no other ill effects from his encounter
with the Martian.
"Two tons of vitalium!" Bill exclaimed. "A small demand! I doubt if
there is that much on the market, if you had all the Confederation's
treasury to buy it with."
"I must have it, and at once! I am going to fit out the _Red Rover_ for
a voyage to Mars. It will take that much vitalium for the batteries."
"We are going to Mars!"
"The only hope for humanity is for us to strike first and to strike
hard!"
"If the world knew of the danger, we could get help."
"That's where you come in. I told you that I should need publicity. It
is your business to tell the public about things. I want you to tell
humanity about the danger from Mars. Make it convincing and make it
strong! Say anything you like so long as you leave the Prince of Space
out of it. I have the body of the Martian that attacked me preserved in
alcohol. You have that and the wreckage in the desert to substantiate
your story. I will land you at Trainor's Tower in New York tonight. You
will have twenty-four hours to convince the world, and raise two tons
of vitalium. It has to be done!"
"A big order," Bill said doubtfully. "But I'll do my best."
The city was a bright carpet of twinkling lights when the _Red Rover_
darted down out of a black sky, hovering for a moment over Trainor's
Tower. When it flashed away, Bill was standing alone on top of the
loftiest building on earth, in his pocket a sheaf of manuscript on
which he had been at work for many hours, beside him a bulky package
that contained the preserved body of the weird monster from Mars.
He opened the trapdoor--which was conveniently unlocked--took up the
package, and clambered down a ladder into the observatory. An intent
man was busy at the great telescope--which pointed toward the red
planet Mars. The man looked understandingly at Bill, and nodded toward
the elevator.
In half an hour Bill was exhibiting his package and his manuscript to
the night editor of the _Herald-Sun_.
"The greatest news in the century!" he cried. "The Earth attacked by
Mars! It was a Martian ship that took the _Helicon_. I have one of the
dead creatures from Mars in this box."
The astounded editor formed a quick opinion that his star reporter had
met with some terrifying experience that had unsettled his brain. He
listened skeptically while Bill related a true enough account of the
cruise of the Moon Patrol ships, and of the battle with the blue globe.
Bill omitted any mention of the City of Space and its enigmatic ruler;
but let it be assumed that the _Fury_ had rammed the globe and that it
had fallen in the desert. He ended with a wholly fictitious account of
how a mysterious scientist had picked him up in a sunship, had told
him of the invaders from Mars, and had sent him to collect two tons
of vitalium to equip his ship for a raid on Mars. Bill had spent many
hours in planning his story; he was sure that it sounded as plausible
as the amazing reality of the Prince of Space and his wonderful city.
The skeptical editor was finally convinced, as much by his faith in
Bill's probity as by the body of the green monster, the scraps of
a strange white metal, and the photographs, which he presented as
material evidence. The editor radioed to have a plane sent from El
Paso, Texas, to investigate the wrecks. When it was reported that they
were just as Bill had said, the _Herald-Sun_ issued an extra, which
carried Bill's full account, with photographs of the dead monster, and
scientific accounts of the other evidence. There was an appeal for two
tons of vitalium, to enable the unknown scientist to save the world by
making a raid on Mars.
The story created an enormous sensation all over the world. A good many
people believed it. The _Herald-Sun_ actually received half a million
eagles in subscriptions to buy the vitalium--a sum sufficient to
purchase about eleven ounces of that precious metal.
Most of the world laughed. It was charged that Bill was insane. It was
charged that the _Herald-Sun_ was attempting to expand its circulation
by a baseless canard. Worse, it was charged that Bill, perhaps in
complicity with the management of the great newspaper, was making the
discovery of a new sort of creature in some far corner of the world the
basis for a gigantic fraud, to secure that vast amount of vitalium.
Examination proved that the wrecks in the desert had been demolished by
explosion instead of by falling. A court injunction was filed against
the _Herald-Sun_ to prevent collection of the subscriptions, and Bill
might have been arrested, if he had not wisely retired to Trainor's
Tower.
Finally, it was charged that the pirate, the Prince of Space, was at
the bottom of it--possibly the charge was suggested by the fact that
the chief object of the Prince's raids had always been vitalium. A
rival paper asserted that the pirate must have captured Bill and sent
him back to Earth with this fraud.
Public excitement became so great that the reward for the capture of
the Prince of Space, dead or alive, was raised from ten to fifteen
million eagles.
Twenty-four hours later after he had been landed on Trainor's Tower,
Bill was waiting there again, with bright stars above him, and the
carpet of fire that was New York spread in great squares beneath him.
The slim silver ship came gliding down, and hung just beside the
vitrolite dome while eager hands helped him through the air-lock.
Beyond, he found the Prince waiting, with a question in his eyes.
"No luck," Bill grunted hopelessly. "Nobody believed it. And the town
was getting too hot for me. Lucky I had a getaway."
The Prince smiled bitterly as the newspaperman told of his attempt to
enlist the aid of humanity.
"About what I expected," he said. "Men will act like men. It might be
better, in the history of the cosmos, to let the Martians have this old
world. They might make something better of it. But I am going to give
humanity a chance--if I can. Perhaps man will develop into something
better, in a million years."
"Then there is still a chance--without the vitalium?" Bill asked
eagerly.
"Not without vitalium. We have to go to Mars. We must have the metal to
fit our flier for the trip. But I have needed vitalium before; when I
could not buy it. I took it."
"You mean--piracy!" Bill gasped.
"Am I not the Prince of Space--'notorious interplanetary outlaw' as you
have termed me in your paper? And is not the good of the many more than
the good of the few? May I not take a few pounds of metal from a rich
corporation, to save the earth for humanity?"
"I told you to count me in," said Bill. "The idea was just a little
revolutionary."
"We haven't wasted any time while you were in New York. I have means
of keeping posted on the shipments of vitalium from the moon. We have
found that the sunship _Triton_ leaves the moon in about twenty hours,
with three months production of the vitalium mines in the Kepler
crater. It should be well over two tons."
* * * * *
Thirty hours later the _Red Rover_ was drifting at rest in the lunar
lane, with ray tubes dead and no light showing. Men at her telescopes
scanned the heavens moonward for sight of the white repulsion rays of
the _Triton_ and her convoy.
Bill was with Captain Brand in the bridge-room. Eager light flashed
in Brand's eyes as he peered through the telescopes, watched his
instruments, and spoke brisk orders into the tube.
"How does it feel to be a pirate?" Bill asked, "after so many years
spent hunting them down?"
Captain Brand grinned. "You know," he said, "I've wanted to be a
buccaneer ever since I was about four years old. I couldn't, of course,
so I took the next best thing, and hunted them. I'm not exactly
grieving my heart out over what has happened. But I feel sorry for my
old pals of the Moon Patrol. Somebody is going to get hurt!"
"And it may be we," said Bill. "The _Triton_ will be convoyed by
several war-fliers, and she can fight with her own rays. It looks to me
like a hard nut to crack."
"I used to dream about how I would take a ship if I were the Prince
of Space," said Captain Brand. "I've just been talking our course of
action over with him. We've agreed on a plan."
In an hour the Prince and Dr. Trainor entered the bridge. Paula
appeared in a few moments. Her face was drawn and pale; unhappiness
cast a shadow in her brown eyes. Eagerly, she asked the Prince how he
was feeling.
"Oh, about as well as ever, thanks," the lean young man replied in a
careless voice. His dark, enigmatic eyes fell upon her face. He must
have noticed her pallor and evident unhappiness. He met her eyes for a
moment, then took a quick step toward her. Bill saw a great tenderness
almost breaking past the bitter cynicism in those dark eyes. Then the
Prince checked himself, spoke shortly:
"We are preparing for action, Paula. Perhaps you should go back to your
stateroom until it is over."
The girl turned silently and moved out of the room. Bill thought she
would have tottered and fallen if there had been enough gravity or
acceleration to make one fall.
In a few minutes a little group of flickering lights appeared among the
stars ahead, just beside the huge, crater-scarred, golden disk of the
moon.
"The _Triton_ and her convoy!" shouted the men at the telescopes.
"All men to their stations, and clear the ship for action!" Captain
Brand gave the order.
"Two Moon Patrol sunships are ahead, cruising fifty miles apart,"
came the word from the telescope. "A hundred miles behind them is the
_Triton_, with two more Patrol fliers twenty-five miles behind her and
fifty miles apart."
Brand spoke to the Prince, who nodded. And Brand gave the order.
"Show no lights. Work the ship around with the gyroscopes until our
rear battery of tubes will cover the right Patrol ship of the leading
pair, and our bow tubes the other."
The whir of the electric motors came from below. The fliers swung
about, hanging still in the path of the approaching _Triton_.
"All ready, sir," came a voice from the tube.
A few anxious minutes went by. Then the _Red Rover_, dark and silent,
was hanging squarely between the two forward Patrol ships, about
twenty-five miles from each of them.
"Fire constantly with all tubes, fore and aft, until the enemy appears
to be disabled," Brand gave the order. The Prince spoke to him, and he
added, "Inflict no unnecessary damage."
Dazzling white rays flashed from the tubes. Swiftly, they found the
two forward sunships. The slender octagons of silver shone white under
the rays. They reeled, whirled about, end over end, under the terrific
pressure of atomic bombardment. In a moment they glowed with dull
red incandescence, swiftly became white. A bluish haze spread about
them--the discharge of the electric energy carried by the atoms, which
would electrocute any man not insulated against it.
From the three other ships flaming white rays darted, searching for
the _Red Rover_. But they had hardly found the mark when Brand ordered
his rays snapped out. The two vessels he had struck were but whirling
masses of incandescent wreckage--completely out of the battle, though
most of the men aboard them still survived in their insulated cells.
The Prince himself spoke into the tube. "Maneuver number forty-one.
Drive for the _Triton_."
Driven by alternate burst from front and rear motor tubes, the _Red
Rover_ started a curiously irregular course toward the treasure ship.
Spinning end over end, describing irregular curves, she must have been
an almost impossible target.
And twice during each spin, when her axis was in line with the
_Triton_, all tubes were fired for an instant, striking the treasure
ship with a force that reeled and staggered her, leaving her plates
half-fused, twisted and broken.
Three times a ray caught the _Red Rover_ for an instant, but her
amazing maneuvers, which had evidently been long practised by her crew,
carried her on a course so erratic and puzzling that the few rays that
found her were soon shaken off.
Before the pirate flier reached the _Triton_, the treasure vessel
was drifting helpless, with all rays out. The _Red Rover_ passed by
her, continuing on her dizzily whirling course until she was directly
between the two remaining fliers.
"Hold her still," the Prince then shouted into the tube. "And fire all
rays, fore and aft."
* * * * *
Blinding opalescent rays jetted viciously from the two rings of tubes.
Since the _Red Rover_ lay between the two vessels, they could not
avoid firing upon each other. Her own rays, being fired in opposite
directions, served to balance each other and hold her at rest, while
the rays of the enemy, as well as those of the pirate that impinged
upon them, tended to send them into spinning flight through space.
Blinding fluorescence obscured the vitrolite panels, and the stout
walls of the _Red Rover_ groaned beneath the pressure of the hail of
atoms upon them. Swiftly they would heat, soften, collapse. Or the
insulation would burn away and the electric charge electrocute her
passengers.
The enemy was in a state as bad. The white beams of the pirate flier
had found them earlier, and could be held upon them more efficiently.
It was a contest of endurance.
Suddenly the jets of opalescence snapped off the pirate. Bill, gazing
out into star-dusted space, saw the two Patrol vessels spinning in mad
flight before the pressure of the rays, glowing white in incandescent
twisted ruin.
A few minutes later the _Red Rover_ was drifting beside the _Triton_
holding the wrecked treasure-flier with electromagnetic plates. The
air-lock of the pirate vessel opened to release a dozen men in metal
vacuum suits, armed with ray pistols and equipped with wrecking tools
and oxygen lances. The Prince was their leader.
They forced the air-lock of the _Triton_, and entered the wreck. In a
few minutes grotesque metal-suited figures appeared again, carrying
heavy leaden tubes filled with the precious vitalium.
The _Red Rover_ was speeding into space, an hour later, under full
power. The Prince of Space was in the bridge-room, with Bill, Captain
Brand, Dr. Trainor, and Paula. Bill noticed that the girl seemed
pathetically joyous at the Prince's safety, though he gave her scant
attention.
"We have the two tons of vitalium," said the Prince. "Nearly forty-six
hundred pounds, in fact. Easily enough to furnish power for the voyage
to Mars. We have the metal--provided we can get away with it."
"Is there still danger?" Paula inquired nervously.
"Yes. Most of the passengers of the _Triton_ were still alive. When
I gave her captain my card, he told me that they sent a heliographic
S.O.S. as soon as we attacked. Some forty or fifty fliers of the Moon
Patrol will be hot on our trail."
The _Red Rover_ flew on into space, under all her power. Presently the
lookouts picked up a score of tiny flickering points of light behind
them. The Moon Patrol was in hot pursuit.
"Old friends of mine," said Captain Brand. "Every one of them would
give his life to see us caught. And I suppose every one of them feels
now that he has a slice of that fifteen million eagles reward! The Moon
Patrol never gives up and never admits defeat."
Tense, anxious hours went by while every battery was delivering its
maximum current, and every motor tube was operating at its absolutely
highest potential.
Paula waited on the bridge, anxiously solicitous for the Prince's
health--he was still pale and weak from the adventure in the desert.
Presently, evidently noticing how tired and worried she looked, he sent
her to her stateroom to rest. She went, in tears.
"No chance to fight, if they run us down," said Captain Brand. "We can
handle four, but not forty."
Time dragged heavily. The _Red Rover_ flew out into space, past the
moon, on such a course as would not draw pursuit toward the City of
Space. Her maximum acceleration was slightly greater than that of the
Moon Patrol fliers, because of the greater number and power of her
motor tubes. Steadily she forged away from her pursuers.
At last the flickering lights behind could be seen no longer.
But the _Red Rover_ continued in a straight line, at the top of her
speed, for many hours, before she turned and slipped cautiously toward
the secret City of Space. She reached it in safety, was let through
the air-lock. Once more Bill looked out upon the amazing city upon the
inner wall of a spinning cylinder. He enjoyed the remarkable experience
of a walk along a street three miles in length, which brought him up in
an unbroken curve, and back to where he had started.
It took a week to refit the _Red Rover_, in preparation for the voyage
to Mars. Her motor ray tubes were rebuilt, and additional vitalium
generators installed. The precious metal taken from the _Triton_ was
built into new batteries to supply power for the long voyage. Good
stocks of food, water, and compressed oxygen were taken aboard, as well
as weapons and scientific equipment of all variety.
"We start for Mars in thirty minutes," Captain Brand told Bill when the
warning gong had called him and the others aboard.