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“These are strange craft you use,” he heard Teuxical say. “I have seen them in only one of the multitude of other worlds on which I have set my feet, worlds which all pay tribute to Malfero of Lodore. It is safer and swifter to ride the magnetic currents than it is to ride the unstable currents of the air.”
Dirk caught the significance of the reference to tribute and he admired the clever diplomacy of Teuxical while, at the same time, he wondered if the earth and all of those who dwelt upon it were doomed to fall under the sway of some remote and unseen despot.
He also realized that the Lodorians had, in some way, devised a craft that rode the great magnetic streams which flowed through the universe in much the same way that men, in ships, navigated the streams of the earth.
He threw on the helicopter switch and the plane rose swiftly into the air, the myriad other flying craft which were circling nearby keeping at a safe distance from it.
“Land on the grand terrace,” Fragoni directed. The flight was short and rapid and it was only a matter of seconds before Dirk brought the plane down on the landing stage which they had left only a scant half-hour before.
He opened the cabin door and stepped out of the plane and the others filed out after him.
Fragoniled the way along the stage, walking and chatting with Teuxical, and Dirk, following after the others, was the last to turn a corner that brought him a sweeping view of the magnificent terrace that fronted the private apartments of the banker and his daughter.
And, when he did, he saw that Inga was standing there, superbly beautiful, with Stanton a few paces behind her.
Her lovely eyes were alive with awe and wonder and her slender white hands were crossed over her heart.
And Dirk saw, too, that Zitlan, son of Teuxical, had paused and was standing quite still, with his unwavering and insolent eyes fixed on the girl. Resentment, and a touch of apprehension, agitated Dirk when he saw the expression on the face of the young Lodorian.
There was admiration in that disagreeable countenance, but it was blended with arrogance, haughtiness and ill-concealed desire.
Dirk went quickly to Inga, standing between the girl and the one from Lodore who was staring at her so brazenly.
“What does it all mean, Dirk?” she asked in a low voice. “Those strange people, where are they from?”
Stanton had come quickly forward and had joined Inga and Dirk.
“They are from some far-off world, Inga,” he explained, “that we know nothing about as yet.”
“But what do they want?” she persisted. “What do they intend to do? I saw those horrible creatures through the magnascope when they came swarming out of the inside of that thing on the water and I thought, at first, that they were going to kill you all.”
“No, they seem to come in peace,” Dirk replied. “Teuxical, their leader, seems to be gracious and kindly.”
“Weare all doomed,” asserted Stanton, “unless something happens. They can crumble our cities with heat and bury us under the ruins of them.”
“Keep your silence!” breathed Dirk, quietly but tensely. “We will find a way to destroy those creatures if it becomes necessary.”
“That man who keeps staring at me, who is he?” asked Inga in a voice that betrayed her nervousness.
Dirk turned and saw that Zitlan was still standing where he had paused and that he still was looking with searching eyes in the direction of the girl.
He returned the insolent gaze of the young Lodorian with an impatient and threatening stare and the countenance405of Zitlan at once became stern and menacing. He came striding in the direction of Inga, Dirk and Stanton and paused within a few feet of them, his rapacious eyes still fixed on the girl.
“My lady,” he said, “your beauty pleases me. I have walked on many worlds but never before have I seen one as lovely as yourself. Of the spoils of this world, all that I crave possession of is you. When we return to Lodore,” he added with an air of finality, “I will take you with me and place you with my other women in the Seraglio of the Stars.”
Dirk swiftly stepped close to Zitlan and the latter quickly clasped a tube that hung at his side, a tube of the sort that the soldiers had carried.
“Your words and your manner are insolent,” asserted Dirk angrily, “and I warn you now to cease making yourself offensive.”
“Dog!” exclaimed Zitlan fiercely, leveling the metal tube, “I’ll––”
But the left fist of Dirk cut short his threat as it made a sudden impact with his chin, and the Lodorian went crashing backward into some exotic shrubbery with a look of surprise on his countenance.
Then Dirk heard an odd hissing and crackling sound, and he felt himself becoming dizzy and weak.
Darkness seemed to sweep in upon him; he felt that he was dropping swiftly through space, and then he lost consciousness.
A vagueand shadowy figure was standing close by his side and peering down into his face. After a while he realized that it was Steinholt.
“Steinholt!” he gasped. “Why––why am I here––in Fragoni’s? I must have had a dream––and yet....”
He furrowed his brow in thought and, gradually, he commenced to remember what had happened.
“It was no dream,” said the scientist softly. “Do you remember the trouble that you had with Zitlan?”
“Yes,” replied Dirk. “I remember that he was insolent to Inga and that I lost my temper and struck him. But what happened to me? I don’t recall that anybody hit me. I did hear sort of a peculiar sound just before I started to pass out, but––”
“Teuxical took a shot at you,” said Steinholt, “and you have been unconscious for over thirty-six hours.”
“Took a shot at me!” exclaimed Dirk. “What did he shoot me with?”
“That is what we all would like to know,” said Steinholt. “He leveled one of those damn tubes at you and pressed a button on it. There was a hissing sound, a flash of light, and you got groggy, and went out. He potted Zitlan, too,” continued Steinholt, “and he apologized for the trouble that his son was responsible for. Do you know,” he added, “I sort of like the old man.”
Lazarre, with a sympathetic smile on his face, entered the room at that moment and overheard the conversation.
“Old man is right,” he remarked, with a little note of awe in his voice. “Teuxical admits that he is three thousand years old and that he has at least two thousand more ahead of him. That Lodore must be a queer world,” he commented, shaking his grizzly head.
“It is not so queer when you take everything into consideration,” said Steinholt. “It seems quite natural when Teuxical explains it. Lodore it seems, is something like a hundred thousand times as big as this miniature world we live on. It took Lodore infinitely longer to solidify from a gaseous state than it took this world, and its entire evolution has been relatively slower than ours. Therefore, according to Teuxical, the people up there live longer and, incidentally, know infinitely more than we do.”
“Whattime is it now?” asked Dirk, after a moment of thought.
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“It is just about twelve o’clock at night,” Steinholt informed him.
“Have these Lodorians made any demands yet?” Dirk asked. “Does anybody know what they are going to do or what they want?”
“They are liable to do almost anything,” said Lazarre, “and it looks as though they will be able to get anything that they want. Teuxical, as I understand it, just gave you a slight shock with his death-ray device. If he had pulled the trigger all the way you would have become just a little pile of dust that the first breeze would have blown away.”
“Our own death-rays are somewhat similar,” said Steinholt, “but they are not a hundredth as powerful. And they won’t work on the Lodorians, either,” he added, “because those metal sheaths that they wear make them immune to all kinds of destructive rays.”
“Itappears,” remarked Lazarre morosely, “as if this little world of ours is going to be taken for a ride. And it’s too bad, considering that it’s the only world we’ve got. There has been no formal presentation of demands yet, but it seems to be sort of understood that the earth is going to become a tributary of Lodore. It is a good thing,” he added, “that Teuxical, and not Zitlan, is the boss of that outfit. I don’t like the looks of that young fellow. He’s only twelve hundred years old and he is sort of hot-blooded, I guess.”
“I was talking with Anteucan,” said Steinholt, “and he told me that the Lodorians usually make heavy levies on worlds which they discover and dominate. As soon as Teuxical returns to Lodore and announces a new discovery a fleet of those damned monsters is sent out to mop up the new planet. That Malfero, who is the emperor of Lodore, is considerable of a monarch, and it seems that he has a passion for piling up wealth. Gold and platinum are as precious on Lodore as they are here and he also likes pretty stones.”
“And what is worse,” added Steinholt, “is his practice of enslaving entire populations and making toilers or warriors out of them. Those soldiers on the ship are not Lodorians. Millions of them were seized on some planet and converted into troops. It was a strange conversion, too,” said Steinholt with a shudder. “Their brains were operated on and most of their faculties removed. They have no sense of fear, no consciences, no power of reasoning. They respond only to certain signals on a whistle and their only definite and active impulse is that of murder and destruction.”
“There is nothing to do,” said Dirk positively, “but to kill all of these interlopers, if we hope to save our world from being desolated.”
Thethree men looked at each other in silence for a moment and then Dirk, somewhat weakly, rose into a sitting position in the bed which he had been occupying.
“But how,” asked Steinholt, “can we kill them? We might, of course, get rid of a few of them, but that simply would lead to our destruction by those who were left.”
“There must be some way,” asserted Dirk, “and it is up to us to think of it without delay. If we let those Lodorians get a foothold on the world all will be lost.”
“The old man seems to be reasonable enough,” said Lazarre. “He doesn’t seem inclined to be destructive.”
“We must not trust him or any of the others,” said Dirk imperatively. “We must rid the earth of every one of them. And the sooner we strike the better!”
“It had best be soon if it is to be at all,” said Steinholt. “Fragoni has arranged to have Teuxical appear before the Congress, and the meeting has been called for to-night when, I imagine, certain specific demands will be made upon us. We all will go to The Hague together on the ship of the Lodorians.”
“And we leave?” questioned Dirk.
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“The meeting is set for ten P. M., New York time,” said Lazarre. “We will start east at about four o’clock in the morning, I guess, because it will only take a minute or so to arrive at our destination.”
“Is Fragoni going?” asked Dirk.
“Naturally,” replied Lazarre.
“And Inga?”
“I believe so,” Lazarre told him. “Fragoni was both afraid to take her and to leave her behind, but finally he decided that he wanted her with him in case of trouble.”
“Andare they––the Lodorians––still here?” queried Dirk.
“Yes,” responded Lazarre. “Teuxical returned to his ship last night with Zitlan and his other followers, but they came back late this afternoon, and they are still here. Zitlan seemed to be all right this afternoon, too. They must have used some means of bringing him out of the daze that he was in. We did everything we could to revive you, but none of our measures were effective.”
“I’m all right now,” asserted Dirk, as he finished attiring himself. “I want to see Fragoni at once.”
“We’ll go out on the terrace then,” said Steinholt. “They are all out there.”
Dirk, with his two companions, strolled out through the maze of rooms and corridors that led to the garden which hung so high above the city and the Sound below it.
The first thing that Dirk saw, when he passed out onto the terrace, was the white tunic of Inga, who was leaning against a coping and talking with Zitlan.
The latter was pointing skyward and, very apparently, he was telling her of worlds which circled high among the stars.
As if she were suddenly aware of his presence, Inga turned and saw Dirk and he realized, by the expression on her face, that she was distraught and nervous. She came toward him quickly, after a few words to Zitlan, and the face of the latter darkened. There was hatred in his expression as he stared malevolently at Dirk.
Steinholtand Lazarre passed along and joined Fragoni and Teuxical, who were the center of a group that had formed in another part of the terrace.
“Oh, Dirk,” said Inga, “I am so afraid of that frightful Zitlan. He has been telling me again that he is going to take me back to his own world with him and it makes me shudder to think of it. He is so strange and queer and his eyes are so terrible. He can’t be as young as he looks, because he speaks of years like we speak of minutes. I will die if I ever find myself in that monster’s power! He has been telling me of all the creatures he has slain on the worlds on which he has landed, and I tell you, Dirk, that he is cruel and ruthless and horrible.”
“He will never have you!” swore Dirk. “And if I hear of any more of his insolence, I will throw him headlong from this terrace.”
“Please, Dirk,” she begged, “don’t do anything––not yet. He is utterly unscrupulous, Dirk. He told me that, even now, he is plotting against some Malfero who rules Lodore like a god, and that he is planning to seize the throne of the planet. He wants to make me the queen of that fearful world when he becomes king. He boasted that, if I were on the throne, millions of people from other worlds would be sacrificed in my honor in the temples of Lodore.” Her voice trembled and her eyes were terror-stricken as she continued. “They tear out the hearts of living victims,” she whispered, “and burn them on their high and mammoth pyramids.”
Ragetook possession of Dirk and, casting a glance at Zitlan, he saw that the Lodorian was smiling insolently at him.
“I’ll kill that beast, if it’s the last408thing that I do!” he exclaimed to Inga.
“Dirk, Dirk,” she implored, “don’t even look at him. He is proud and impetuous, and he will kill you in defiance of his own father.”
“We will find some way to rid the world of the scourge that has descended upon it,” asserted Dirk confidently, “and he will die with the rest of that monstrous crew.”
“I am going in, Dirk,” Inga said. “Please,” she begged, “don’t do anything rash. If––something––should happen to you, I would lose all the hope that I have and I would, I think, kill myself.”
“Don’t lose hope, my dear,” said Dirk reassuringly. “I believe that I know of a way to destroy the plague that menaces us.”
He pressed her hand and, after she left him, he walked over and joined the other men on the terrace. Zitlan, coming from the terrace wall, stretched out in a chair not far from Dirk.
Teuxical regarded the latter with a countenance that was calm and amicable. “I am sorry, my young friend,” he apologized, “that I had to intervene between you and my son.” He paused a moment and sat in silence, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Ah,” he then said, “what disasters have arisen out of the desire of men for women. In my wanderings over the starlit worlds, I have seen....” He ceased speaking, brooded for a moment, and then shook his head slowly. “But you cannot say that I was not just,” he continued, addressing Dirk. “I punished Zitlan for his presumption. Fragoni tells me that the woman has pledged herself to you. Let her pledge be kept!” he exclaimed sternly, looking straight at Zitlan.
“We are the conquerors,” asserted the latter boldly, “and to us should belong the spoils of our daring!”
“Silence!” thundered Teuxical. “My own son, above all others, shall be obedient to my commands! Or, like others have done, he shall die because of insubordination!”
Zitlan, a defiant expression on his face, ceased to speak, but Dirk could see that he was livid with suppressed rage.
“As I was saying,” Teuxical remarked, turning to Fragoni, “I am getting old and long have I been weary of conquest. I have seen your world and it pleases me. It is a tiny and peaceful place, far removed from the strife and turbulence of the restless centers of the universe. So it is my will to leave you unscathed and return to Lodore for a brief time to ask of the mighty Malfero the grant of this little provincial land. And then, with his permission, I will return here and rule it with wisdom and benevolence.
“I will bring to you much knowledge, and peace will be to the people of this earth and peace will be to me.”
“It is well,” replied Fragoni. “No world, I am certain, could hope for a wiser and more just ruler than yourself, and our Congress surely will receive you with acclaim.”
Teuxical bowed in recognition of the compliment, and his countenance indicated that he was gratified.
“We will go, now, back to our vessel,” he said, addressing the other Lodorians. “We will return for you at the appointed hour and conduct you to our ship,” he added, speaking to Fragoni.
“We will be ready,” Fragoni replied.
Zitlanhad arisen with the rest of them and Dirk, with a look of contempt and amusement in his eyes, regarded him casually.
“May I have the honor of conducting our guests back to their ship in a plane?” Stanton requested of Fragoni.
The latter nodded and Stanton walked across the terrace in the direction of the landing stage.
Zitlan, as he followed after the others, passed close to Dirk and, pausing for a moment, fixed his hateful eyes on him.
“You dog,” he whispered malignantly,409“remember what I tell you! The time will come when I will cast you to the carnaphlocti in the dark and icy caverns of sunless Tiganda. You will die,” he swore, “the death of a million agonies!”
For a moment Dirk felt an almost irresistible impulse to hurl himself on the Lodorian and slay him.
He managed to maintain his control, however, and only regarded Zitlan with disdain as the latter turned and went on his way.
In another moment the plane, containing Stanton and the Lodorians, was high up in the darkness.
Dirk glanced at the great clock that gleamed atop of the beacon-tower on the Metropole Landing Field.
The hour was close to twelve-thirty A. M.
A momentof silence on the terrace followed the departure of the plane that bore the Lodorians back to their craft.
For an hour the clouds had been gathering in the sky and now a fine, cold rain commenced to fall.
A peal of thunder echoed above them after a sharp flash of lightning had streaked across the black night above them.
A servant appeared from the entrance to the apartment and pressed a button close to the door.
Protective plates of glass noiselessly enveloped the terrace, sheltering those upon it from the inclement weather.
“It is well,” remarked Fragoni, breaking the silence, “that we were found by a leader like Teuxical. Our tribute will not be unbearable, and he will bestow many benefits upon us.”
“But surely,” protested Dirk, “you do not intend to surrender without a struggle! Nothing but disaster,” he asserted earnestly, “will come upon the earth if you do. Teuxical may be honest and just but, after all, he neither is immortal nor all-powerful, and something may happen to him at any moment. And there are those like Zitlan who would turn the world over to ravage and rape, and then convert it into a blazing pyre, if they had their way. These vandals,” he insisted, “must be slain one and all, or, mark my words, our world will be laid waste.”
Dirkspoke with such a sense of conviction that his words held his listeners spellbound.
“Who is Teuxical,” he asked, “but the vassal of a monarch whose corsairs, very apparently, are carrying on a war of conquest in the universe? It will be disastrous, I say, to place any dependence in the good will of this one Lodorian. If he, or any of his men, return to that far-off planet where they dwell word will be carried there of the existence of our world. But who can say that Teuxical ever will return here again? It may be the whim of his ruler to refuse his request, or any one of a thousand other events might arise to thwart his desire to live among us. No,” concluded Dirk passionately, “it never will do to let that great engine of destruction rise into the skies again!”
“He is right!” asserted Steinholt positively. “It will be far better to annihilate these raiders, if such a thing can be accomplished!”
Lazarre was rather inclined to take sides with Fragoni.
“But how,” he demanded, “can such destruction be brought about? We know nothing of the capabilities of that monster that is lying down there in the Sound. It is undoubtedly equipped with the deadliest of devices and they all will be turned upon us if we fail in an effort to destroy the thing and those who have come from space upon it. If there was a way to smite them suddenly, to bring death to the Lodorians and to those swarming, mindless, murderous minions who act in obedience to them, I would favor doing it.
“But, as it is,” he concluded, “it seems like inviting disaster even to410think of such an attempt, much less to try it.”
“It can be done, though,” asserted Dirk, “or there is at least a fighting chance of accomplishing it. The electrosceotan––” He paused, and looked questioningly at Steinholt. “The top of that monster is open and....”
TheTeuton furrowed his brow and considered the proposition for a moment.
“Yes,” he said, nodding his head, “it might be done.” Again he silently gave the subject his thought. “It is well worth trying,” he asserted with an air of decision. “But we will have to make haste,” he warned, “if the thing is to be done before the flight to The Hague.”
“So be it,” said Fragoni. “We will apply ourselves to the task at hand. I, too,” he confessed, “had rather see these vandals destroyed like so much vermin rather than have them carry the news of the existence of this earth back into those strange worlds in the depth of space. I will only regret the passing of Teuxical, who could have taught us much wisdom. And now,” he continued briskly, “I will place myself under your orders, Dirk. You are the one who suggested this plan and upon you will fall the responsibility of executing it. And, if it succeeds,” he added, “the glory will be yours.”
“I care little for the glory,” replied Dirk, “but I gladly accept the duties and the responsibilities. These,” he said to Fragoni, “are my instructions to you. Inasmuch as Teuxical and his captains will return here at about four o’clock in the morning to convey us back to their craft, it will be necessary to have this building emptied of its inhabitants by that time. Let all of those who dwell here depart from it, a few at a time, so as not to excite suspicion. Inga, above all others, must leave and retreat to a place of safety. Then, as the hour approaches for the arrival of the Lodorians, we will escape by plane from one of the rear terraces. They will land in search of us and––well, then they will feel the force of our power.”
“I will follow your orders explicitly,” promised Fragoni. “I wonder,” he added, “where Stanton is? He should be advised of what we are going to attempt.”
“He will return in due time,” replied Dirk. “And, if not, it will be the worse for him. Lazarre will remain here with you,” he then told Fragoni, “and Steinholt and I will now go about our part of the task at hand.”
Dirk, followed by Steinholt, hurried across the terrace and, leaving the shelter of its quartzite plates, sought the landing stage.
The rain still was falling and the heavens were congested with dark and heavy clouds.
Dirk, selecting one of the smaller planes, entered the cabin and Steinholt, following after him, closed the door and threw on the lights.
Swiftly they shot straight up into the air, Dirk ignoring all of the rules of flight in his haste to be under way. Once in the westbound lane, he headed his plane toward Manhattan and threw his rheostat wide open. In a few minutes they were skimming over the great city and past the three-thousand-foot steel tower of the Worldwide Broadcasting Station.
For fifteen minutes more he kept the plane on a straight course and then, bringing it to a quick stop, he let it drop like a plummet toward the earth.
It landed, among many other planes, on the transparent, quartzite roof of a vast building and, looking down into the interior, they could see several rows of great dynamos. Some of them were turning, and the humming that they made could be heard plainly.
Dirkand Steinholt ran rapidly across the roof until they came to a superstructure, which they entered. There was a shaft inside. Dirk pressed a button, and an elevator shot411up and stopped at the door, which automatically flashed open.
He closed it after he and his companion had entered the cage and, dropping rapidly downward, they came to a stop in a lighted chamber that was far below the surface of the ground.
A stoop-shouldered old man greeted them, an expression of surprise on his face.
“Gentlemen!” he exclaimed. “What is––”
“Power, Gaeble!” commanded Steinholt tensely. “Power! Let every dynamo run its swiftest. To-night we have to use for the electrosceotan!”
“But I thought it was peace that those from the stars desired,” said the old electrician. “Through my radiovisor I heard––”
“That was sent out,” explained Steinholt, “to relieve the fears of the people and to keep them in order.”
Swiftly the distorted figure of the old man sped to a great switchboard, where he pressed button after button.
The very ground commenced to vibrate around them and the massive structure seemed to be alive with straining power.
Then Steinholt, going to a corner of the intricate board, adjusted a few levers, while his gnomelike companion watched him carefully.
“And now, Gaeble,” the scientist said impressively, “these are your orders. At precisely the hour of four o’clock in the morning make one connection with this switch.”
Heindicated, with a stubby finger, the lever to be operated.
“Keep the circuit closed for just four seconds,” he added slowly, “and then break it. Do you understand, Gaeble?” he demanded.
“I do,” replied the old man.
“Then,” continued Steinholt, “after you break that connection you quickly will close this next circuit. Keep it closed for four seconds and then, after opening it for one second, close it again for four seconds. Repeat the procedure twice more, Gaeble, after that, and then await my further instructions. Is everything clear?” he asked.
“It is, sir,” the old man replied. “I will follow your orders implicitly.”
“There is one thing more,” Steinholt said. “Get the Worldwide Tower on the televisor and warn them of what is to happen.”
“I will do that immediately,” Gaeble replied.
Dirk and Steinholt shot up to the roof again and the building over which they walked seemed to be quivering with life.
They could see that all of the mammoth dynamos beneath them were revolving and the humming which they had heard before had changed into an ugly, vibrant roar.
Againthey took flight and, reaching Manhattan, they continued north and east to the shore of Long Island Sound.
Long before the old East River had been filled in and the space which it had occupied reclaimed for building purposes. All indications of its former bed had been obliterated by mammoth terraced structures.
When they reached their destination on the shore of the Sound a small submarine, which Dirk had ordered by radio, was awaiting them.
“Submerge and proceed up the Sound,” Dirk ordered the officer, “and take us directly under the craft of the Lodorians.”
In a few minutes they were skimming over the surface of the water and, when a sufficient depth had been gained, the tiny boat disappeared beneath the rain-rippled sea.
Dirk sat at a port and watched the aquatic life as it was illuminated by the powerful aquamarine searchlights.
Progress under the water was comparatively slow, as mankind had made but little progress in underwater navigation. Air liners long before had almost superseded travel by land and sea412and the abolition of warfare had swept all of the old navies from the ocean.
It was more than an hour before the officer in charge of the boat announced that the mammoth hull of the monster that was lying on the Sound was visible directly above them.
Both Dirk and Steinholt donned diving apparatus, and the former carefully adjusted the mechanism that was contained in a metallic box about two feet square.
Thenthey stepped up into a chamber in the conning tower of the boat and, after a door slipped shut beneath them, water slowly commenced to pour into the compartment.
When it was full a sliding door that was in front of them slowly opened and they passed out onto the deck of the underwater craft.
Steinholt had been provided with some welding apparatus and, in a few minutes, the box which Dirk had carried was attached securely to the bottom of the craft of the Lodorians.
They then reentered the submarine by reversing the process which had attended their exit. Very soon they were in the cabin of the boat again.
“If everything goes well,” said Dirk, “those damned Lodorians will never know what struck them.”
“I only hope,” said Steinholt, “that we don’t destroy that leviathan altogether. We might solve the secret of it and then we, too, could ride out into the heart of the universe.”
“It is impossible to imagine what will happen,” Dirk replied, “until after we launch our attack.”
Both of the men were silent during the return trip of the small undersea craft, which emerged at its dock a little before three-thirty in the morning.
“We’ll have to hurry,” urged Dirk nervously, “because we will need a little time to make preparations after we get back to Fragoni’s.”
They entered their plane and Dirk shot it swiftly up into the night, following the red shaft of light that rose almost directly from the point at which they had made their landing.
Then, having reached the eastbound level, he headed straight in the direction of the palace of Fragoni.
Dirk cast a glance at the great city that lay far beneath him. High up into the heavens it tossed thefulgurantfires that betokened its wealth and power. And, down among those myriad lights, millions and millions of people were restless under the danger that menaced them. It was only a matter of moments now before their fate, and the fate of their great metropolis, would be decided. By dawn they would be free forever from the threat of subjugation and slavery or else they, and all that they had toiled and striven for, would be the veriest dust of dying embers.
And whatever befell them likewise would befall the rest of the world and every living thing that moved upon it.
Dirk was high above Fragoni’s when he stopped the forward flight of the plane and, dropping it rapidly through the misty night, brought up easily on the landing stage. The other planes which had been there when he and Steinholt had taken their departure were gone and Dirk felt a sense of relief when he observed this. Inga, then, must have departed with the other occupants of the colossal structure. Things were going according to the plan that he had conceived. He stepped out of the cabin, followed by Steinholt, and proceeded hastily along the terrace and turned the corner into the garden.
Then he came to an abrupt halt because there, before him, was Zitlan, with one of the deadly ray-tubes of the Lodorians in hishand.
Dirkknew immediately that something unexpected had happened and that he was in the power of one who not only hated him but who had an unholy desire for Inga.
He realized, too, that any show of resistance would be nothing short of413suicide, for he was well aware of the deadliness of the strange weapon with which he and Steinholt were being menaced by the gloating Lodorian.
“One false move and you die!” warned Zitlan. “Come forward, now, and join those two others over whom Anteucan and Huazibar are watching.”
Dirk and Steinholt promptly obeyed the command of Zitlan and walked over to where Fragoni andLazarrewere being guarded by two of the conquerors.
The rain had ceased to fall, but the skies were dark and overcast with heavy clouds. There was an occasional flash of lightning, and thunder rolled and echoed through the night.
The terrace, however, was brightly illuminated and every detail of the scene around him was visible to Dirk.
He saw Stanton, on another part of the terrace, standing among some Lodorians he had not seen before. Stanton, apparently, was not being treated as a prisoner and Dirk wondered, rather vaguely, why this was.
“What happened?” Dirk asked Fragoni quietly.
“According to what I have heard,” the latter replied, “Zitlan murdered his father in a fit of rage, and has taken over the command of the ship. Many of the Lodorians are his adherents and even those who do not favor him are so terrified that they will be obedient to his wishes.”
“AndInga?” questioned Dirk.
“She is inside the apartment,” said Fragoni, a note of desperation in his voice. “Zitlan surprised us completely and he and his men had us covered before we realized that Teuxical was not among them.”
Zitlan, in the meantime, had entered the suite of Fragoni and he now came out, Inga walking before him.
She was silent and proudly erect but there was a pallor in her face that indicated her realization of the danger that she was threatened with.
When Dirk saw her she gave him a brave smile, which he answered with a glance of reassurance.
He could see the great clock in the Metropole Tower, and he noticed, with a feeling of grave apprehension, that it was twenty minutes to four o’clock.
There were only a few minutes more in which to make a desperate and apparently a hopeless effort to save Inga, his friends and himself from a catastrophe which he had been instrumental in contriving.
Then Zitlan stood before him, haughty and arrogant, his lowering countenance ugly with hatred.
“So, dog,” he said, “you who dared to defy Zitlan now stand before him a captive!”
Neither Dirk nor any one of the three others who were guarded with him replied to the utterance.
“You and that woman of yours,” continued the Lodorian insolently, “both are my prisoners to do with as I please. Your fate,” he continued, “I already have planned for you and I assure you that it will not be as pleasurable as the one to which she is destined. You will find that Tigana, on which you and those with you will be cast, is a world of terror such as you never could dream of. Even the monsters which crawl through the deliriums of the mind are not as horrible as those which infest the mad and haunted world of which I speak.”
Hepaused a moment, a cruel smile on his face, as if he wished the full import of his words to sear themselves into the minds of the doomed men.
“But the woman,” he added, “will return to Lodore with me and be the queen of all women. And soon,” he said savagely, “she may be queen of all Lodore, of the worlds which pay tribute to Lodore, and of other worlds which I will conquer and ravage. My father stood in my way and he died at my own hands. So will others perish414who thwart my ambition, and I will become supreme in the universe!”
A feeling of reckless fury possessed Dirk as he listened to the words of Zitlan and he felt an almost irresistible desire to drive a fist square between the mad, glittering eyes of the Lodorian.
He glanced at the great clock, however, and he saw that the time to act had not yet come. At the last moment he would make one desperate attempt to frustrate the evil designs of Zitlan. If it failed––well, all would be lost. But it was a far better thing to die resisting the despicable Zitlan and his minions than it would be to live and to know that, without a struggle, he had abandoned to degradation the girl he loved.
“This world of yours will be my world,” he heard Zitlan boast, “and the spoils from it will add to my riches. This one here,” he continued, indicating Stanton, “has offered to show me where all of the treasures of the earth may be found. And, as a reward, he will return to Lodore with me and there be elevated to a high position.”
That, then, was why Stanton was not under guard like the rest of them.
“Our good friend, Stanton,” said Lazarre, “seems to have become something of a Judas.”
“And let his name be forever cursed, like the name of Judas,” said Dirk.
“Silence!” thundered the Lodorian. “I, Zitlan, am speaking.” He paused a moment. “When I garner up the treasures of this world in the way of precious stones and metals I also shall gather more priceless loot in the way of women. And then, having taken all that I desire, I will lay waste to this earth so that those who survive will fear the name of Zitlan and will grovel before him like a god when once again he appears to them.”
While Zitlan had been speaking, Dirk had been studying the opponents with whom he soon had to clash.
The two Lodorians who were standing guard over himself and his companions were close to his left side. Zitlan was directly in front of him, and there were seven of his minions clustered behind him.
Again Dirk glanced at the great dial of the clock, and he saw that it was seven minutes of four.
The moment had come to act if action was to prove of any avail.
“I will––”
But the words of Zitlan were interrupted by Dirk, who suddenly made a mighty sweep with his left arm and knocked the deadly tubes from the hands of Anteucan and Huazibar. Startled by the assault, they went reeling backward. At almost the same instant Dirk leaped forward and, seizing Zitlan, hurled him among those Lodorians who had been massed behind him. Then he threw himself violently into the tangled mass, his fists driving in and out with deadly strength!
Outof the corner of one eye he saw Inga pass the melee and dart swiftly to the corner of the terrace. Instead of passing around to the landing stage, however, she lingered there and watched the combat.
Dirk, as he fought, became conscious that Steinholt and Fragoni were at his side, battling with him against his enemies. He saw, too, that Stanton had retired to the far end of the terrace and that he was watching the struggle with frightened eyes.
“We must reach the plane and get away,” gasped Dirk. “In another three minutes––”
He felled a Lodorian who, having lost his tube, was about to grapple with him. He saw Steinholt send another one of their opponents reeling backward.
“Fragoni!” he exclaimed. “The plane! Get in with Inga! We will come!”
Even as he spoke his fists were flailing back and forth between each one of hisstaccatocommands.