Meanwhile Billie was still "haunting" Mona, and shortly was able to tell the other three that Fort had called, taking the surgeon out in a machine large enough to hold them both. They proceeded to a near-by park, where a game of aerial punt-ball was already in progress. [Footnote: The game is described more or less completely in various sporting publications.]
Billie took great interest in the darting play of the little flylike machines, the action of the mechanical catapults, and the ease with which the twelve-inch ball was usually caught in the baskets on the machines' prows. She reported the score from time to time in a manner which would have made a telegrapher jealous.
Returning from the game, Mona and Fort became pretty confidential, the natural result of a common enthusiasm; for their side won. But Fort was content for a while to merely watch Mona, who was driving.
Finally the conversation made an opening for him to say, "I asked your mother, Mona, what she thought of me as a prospective son-in-law."
The girl was in no way rattled. "I suppose she told you that it wouldn't make any difference what she might say; I'd do as I pleased anyhow. Didn't she?"
Fort nodded, slightly taken back. Then his boldness returned. "Well, I had to bring up the subject somehow. And now that I've done it—do you love me well enough to marry me, Mona?"
She pretended to be very busy with the driving; so that Billie never knew whether Fort looked anxious or not. Presently Mona said:
"I think—I rather think I like you too well to marry you. What I mean is, I'm afraid it would spoil you, my dear boy. You're too well satisfied with yourself. I don't want to marry a man who is content to fly around half the time and admire me the other half; although," she added, "I like to be admired as well as any one."
Fort looked as though he would, with an ounce more provocation, take her in his arms and say something to get quick results. But he didn't. "I see," pretty soberly, for him. "You want me to get in and do something important. Like Powart?" suddenly.
But Mona would not answer him directly. "It's only fair to say that I've given him an ultimatum, too." She hinted at what she had told the chairman. "I said nothing about—you."
Fort took a deep breath. Mona gave him a glance or two, and Billie could see a startling change come over him. It was amazing; Fort, for the first time in his life had made a serious resolve!
"This makes everything very different!" he declared; and even his voice was altered. There was a determined, purposeful ring about it which was altogether unlike his usual reckless tones.
"Thanks for not telling Mr. Powart," Fort went on in the same quiet way. "Clearly, I should tell him myself. And I shall. After that it is up to me!"
Next instant he had thrown off his seriousness, and for the remainder of the flight was his former jovial self. He seemed a trifle ashamed, however, of his old lightheartedness; so much so that Mona warned him not to tamper too much with his disposition. "I like it too well, boy."
He went straight home after a hurried leave-taking, and Mona did not see him again until after the declaration of war. The next the four heard of him was through Van Emmon; Fort called upon the self-made commander-in-chief as quickly as he could.
"I have the honor to inform you," said Fort, coming straight to the point, "that Miss Mona has seen fit to encourage my suit. In short, sir," with the strange new note of resolution in his voice, "I am your rival for her hand! I thought it only right that you should know."
Powart took this as he took everything, standing. And Van Emmon could see no sign that the announcement had disturbed his poise.
"You are considerate," he stated with the faintest trace of sarcasm. "Let me call your attention to the fact that, because of the position which recent events have forced upon me, it is quite within my power to dispose of your opposition"—significantly.
"Quite so! I shall appreciate your consideration also." Then the athlete permitted himself a slight smile. "On second thoughts, however, you can't afford to be other than considerate. If anything happens to me now, Miss Mona will naturally think of you; for she knows I have come here!"
A single exclamation escaped Powart, and from the light in Fort's eyes, Van Emmon knew that the chief was sorely provoked. However, he spoke with his usual coolness and certainty.
"Under the circumstances, you will be exempt, Mr. Fort, from the conscription which is now under way. I shall do nothing that might hinder your activities in any way? I take it"—evenly—"that you hope to accomplish something—big?"
Fort bowed. "It is my intention to set a mark even further than your own, sir!"
For the first time Powart laughed. It was a really hearty laugh, as though Fort's preposterous boast was so utterly ridiculous that sarcasm was out of place.
"Mr. Fort"—when his mirth had subsided—"I only wish your judgment was as sound as your optimism! Tell me—do you intend to make yourself ruler of a bigger world than this?"
Fort dropped his seriousness for an instant. "To tell the truth, Powart, I haven't any plan at all—yet. Thanks for the exemption. In return, I assure you that whatever I do will be as truly in the interests of the people as what you have done."
Powart eyed him keenly. For a moment Van Emmon thought he would try to learn if Fort had any suspicions. But he said nothing further than a curt, "The audience is ended."
A few minutes later Billie, through Mona, knew that Fort was reporting progress. He did it by telephone.
"Thought you'd like to know," he finished. "Hope I didn't rouse you out of bed."
It was night in Mona's part of the world, and Billie had come upon the girl just as she was preparing for bed.
"Thank you," she said, through a tremendous yawn. "I was just about to retire. Good luck"—another yawn—"and good—"
Her voice changed. "Mr. Fort!" sharply. "Powart's declaration of war on Alma is a frame-up! Never mind how I happen to know; it is true; they are not planning to invade us at all! He trumped up this affair in order to make himself dictator!"
"What!" The athlete was astounded. "Are you sure of this, Mona?"
The girl's manner had changed again. "I beg your pardon?" she inquired, vastly confused. "Did I say something that—why, I am not aware, Mr. Fort, that I had said anything more than 'good night'!"
"You AREN'T!" His voice was strained and excited. "Mona—you just now said something of the most extraordinary—surely—incredulously—you recall saying something, don't you?"
She was still bewildered. "I do not!" Then gathering her poise again, "What did I say?"
"You said—" He stopped and waited a long while before going on.Then he stated with a soberness that was almost stern:
"Mona, you told me something which could have come only through a supernatural agency. I am sure of it, from your manner. You were temporarily possessed." He paused again.
She sensed his earnestness, and spoke just as seriously. "It is not impossible. I have heard of such things before. I was sleepy, and—the point is, what did I say?" she demanded.
"I do not intend to tell—you. What I learned gives me a great advantage over Powart; that's all I can say. More would be dishonorable. Will you take my word for that, Mona?"
"Certainly," with swift decision, and a grace that Billie envied. Whereupon she went to bed, but not to sleep until after many an hour of wide-eyed wondering.
Fort next showed himself to Smith, through Reblong. He had secured a pass to the engine-room of the Cobulus; and shortly his breezy manner completely broke down the engineer's usual reserve.
"Always glad to show the machinery," said Reblong, denying that the visitor was making any trouble. Fort's technical knowledge had delighted him. "Come again any time you like."
Which Fort did, the very next day. And this time he brought a package of sweetmeats, during the eating of which the two men became pretty friendly.
"You're different from most of the folks of your—station," Reblong finally made bold to remark. "Any harm in my saying so?"
"On the contrary," laughed the athlete. "I rather pride myself on my democracy.
"The fact is, I want you to tell me a few things about your fellow-workers. I understand you're one of the officers of your guild?"
"Secretary," replied Reblong, a little dubiously. Was Fort a secret investigator?
"Then you can tell me. Is there any dissatisfaction? Are the men entirely content with their treatment?"
Reblong hesitated about replying, and Fort assured him, "This is a purely personal matter with me, old man. I am really anxious to know whether the working world is as well satisfied, as happy as I am."
And thus Fort discovered, just as another man had already discovered, that the average Capellan workman was entirely satisfied with what he knew to be unjust treatment. Even when Fort told Reblong what he had learned about Powart's trickery—leaving out all details about Mona, of course—the engineer would not listen to any hint of revolution.
"I don't like to question your word, Mr. Fort"—Reblong was very uncomfortable—"but I have such confidence in the commission that—well, you understand."
And Fort said, just as the other fellow had said after talking with Reblong—Reblong, the representative Capellan workman; Reblong, who voiced the opinions of his billions of fellow-workmen when he refused to consider a rebellion—Fort said:
"Well, I'll be utterly damned!"
Van Emmon was pretty cross because Billie, through Mona, had told Fort about Powart's game. More than once he protested hotly, "You shouldn't have done that! It's all their affair, not ours!"
And Billie usually returned, just as warmly, "I don't care! I think Powart is a scoundrel!" And it was in the midst of one of these tiffs that the doctor interrupted, exactly as though the telepathy was telephony:
"Quiet, you two. Fort has called at the prison, and is being introduced to young Ernol. He—"
"I've been talking with your father," Fort was saying to the son. The guard had left them alone in the cell. "But he isn't interested in my ideas. He seems to think he's done all that needs to be done in getting himself imprisoned."
The boy nodded. "He considers himself a martyr, Mr. Fort; and I guess he's satisfied like everybody else." He spoke bitterly.
All Fort's own youthful enthusiasm returned with a rush. "You're just the chap I'm looking for! If you're genuinely ambitious to do the people a great service, now's your chance!"
And he went on to tell the boy about Powart's frame-up. He gave every detail of Mona's strange disclosure, and the boy believed him absolutely.
"I might have known there was some trick about it!" cried the lad. "Alma isn't that kind of a planet! By Heaven, Powart deserves to be assassinated!"
"Nothing doing," replied the athlete promptly, his eyes sparkling with the old light. "The first thing is to get you out of here; you, and the other hundred and fifty who were put in at the same time."
Whereupon he proceeded to outline a scheme such as would look utterly incredible in the mere planning. Perhaps it is best to relate the thing as it happened, instead.
Two nights after Fort's call on Ernol, Fort again presented himself to Reblong. This time it was at the engineer's apartments.
"I was hoping to find you about to go on duty. I've been wondering how your engines control the steering." He was eying Reblong steadily. "Some time when it is convenient I wish you would show me all over the ship, and explain everything." He turned as though to leave.
"Oh, that's all right, Mr. Fort," Reblong hurried to assure him. "I'd just as soon accommodate you right now as at any time. The ship is always open to me."
Reblong had said exactly what Fort had hoped and planned that he would say. Fifteen minutes later the two men were inside the big air-cruiser, alone except for a few cleaners, who were finishing the usual work of preparing the ship for its next cruise. But Reblong could not know that Fort had carefully made sure of this fact beforehand.
The engineer took the athlete from one end of the cruiser to the other, showing him how the pilot was able to control its motions with the utmost delicacy, thanks to automatic mechanism in the engine-room, electrically connected with the bridge.
"Suppose I was the pilot now," commented Fort, standing on the bridge and looking up at the stars. "All I need to do is to set these dials"—indicating the pilot's instruments—"to 'ascend,' and the engine-room would do the rest automatically. Is that it?"
Reblong said this was practically true, and led the way back to the engine-room. The place was full of a gurgling sound, now, due to the fuel being run into the tanks. Reblong glanced at the indicating tube. "We've already got enough," he estimated, "to take the ship a thousand miles."
And next instant Fort had leaped upon him. Reblong staggered back in his surprise, stumbled against a chair, and sat down heavily, helpless as a child in the athlete's iron grip.
"Sorry, old man," remarked Fort, meanwhile pushing him, chair and all, toward the instrument-table. "But it's simply got to be done." Like a flash he let go the engineer and snatched a strap from the table—where he had of course previously placed it—and again threw himself upon his man before Reblong recovered from his surprise. In a second he was strapped tight in his chair; and not until then did he think to use his feet. Another strap put an end to his kicking.
"Surprised you, didn't I?" The athlete was enjoying himself hugely."Now—I must remind you that I'm taking a big chance in doing this.If you make a noise, I shall treat you as any desperate man wouldtreat you!" There was a look in his eyes which clinched the matter.
Immediately he disappeared in the direction of the nearest cleaners. Reblong heard sounds of struggling from time to time; and evidently he implicitly believed that Fort would take vengeance upon him if he called for help; for he kept perfectly quiet. After perhaps twenty minutes the athlete returned, breathing heavily, but happy.
"The last one almost spilled my beans," said he—to use the expression Smith employed. "He happened to see me shutting another one into a closet, and jumped me from behind. I had to lay him out." Reblong must have looked alarmed. "Oh, no harm done. They'll all live to tell about it for the next twenty years."
Next he made certain adjustments in the engine-room mechanism. Then he went to the telephone, and located the man in charge of the depot. "Hello—Mr. Fort speaking; Reblong isn't able to come to the phone." He winked at the man in the chair. "There's something wrong with the fuel indicator. Shut off the supply for a while, will you?"
The gurgling soon stopped. Reblong watched in continued silence asFort disappeared again, this time taking the elevator to the bridge.He was back again in a couple of minutes.
"Now, old man," addressing the engineer, "you can guess what I'm up to. I'm going to navigate this cruiser alone!"
"I've set everything for the ascent. You see what I've done; if I've made any mistakes, it means good-by for the Cobulus, for me, and—for you!
"I leave it to your good sense to tell me if there's anything I've overlooked." And he laid his hands on the starting-levers.
Reblong said nothing so far, such was his chagrin and wonder. But now he evidently considered seriously what Fort had said.
"I see you mean it, Mr. Fort. And—you ought to know that once you've cleared the landing-dock, you'll have a hard time to keep her level unless you're up on the bridge. That is, while you're shifting the wing-angle. But you ought to be down here to do that; and, meanwhile, she might nose down and slam into something, and—" Reblong shuddered.
"I see." The athlete pondered for a moment. Then he lifted the engineer bodily, chair and all, and moved him over nearer the instrument. Next he loosened one of Reblong's hands, just enough to permit him to reach certain of the levers. He also did some more tying of knots and shifting of buckles, roped the chair to a stanchion, and made sure that Reblong could not undo himself.
"It's up to you," said Fort with the new light in his eyes. "You run this thing as it ought to be run, and you're safe. Trick me in any way, and I'll get you!"
Reblong took a single look at those eyes. "I understand," said he, in a low voice; and without further ado the athlete went to the elevator.
In less than a minute the order came to "cast off." The engineer did not hesitate, but threw the levers and turned the wheels which Fort had expected to operate himself. Another second and the great craft was rising from its seat.
Shouts, muffled and faint because of the ship's double windows, sounded from outside. Reblong saw the sheds sinking rapidly below him. In thirty seconds the vessel was free of the dock.
"First gear ahead," came the signal; and again Reblong obeyed. Practically he had no choice. Another man, of nobler training, might have preferred to be loyal at all costs. But Reblong, the representative Capellan workman, saw the lights of the sheds shift slowly to the rear, then go out of sight as the speed increased. He saw one or two fliers preparing to pursue, but he knew that the cruiser would easily outstrip the best of them.
The Cobulus had got clear away!
It was an hour later that the four, this time through the doctor and young Ernol, learned the sequel to Fort's daring feat. The boy was alone in his cell, awake in the darkness, when one of the guards marched up to his door and unlocked it.
"Come out," he ordered; and Ernol preceded him down the corridor, up a flight of stairs, through another corridor and thence into the exercise grounds. On the other side of this was a small building, with no opening save one door, now bright with light. Inside, Ernol found the other men who had been arrested with him, closely watched by a dozen of the prison guards. His father was not there; apparently they were waiting for him to be brought.
"It worked all right," whispered the man at Ernol's right, as the boy was lined up. Ernol only nodded slightly, keeping his eyes fixed upon the door. A moment later, the elder Ernol arrived, accompanied by a man whom the doctor instantly recognized.
It was Eklan Norbith, the man whose infernally ingenious use of the clock's pendulum had wrung the truth about the secret photographs from the boy's father. He looked even more cruel and repellant now, than he had that night on the couch. Apparently quite recovered, he made a truly forbidding figure.
He had evidently been sent for by the warden; for, with a slow, malignant stare at the row of prisoners, he stated the case in his heavy, ominous tones:
"You are all supposed to know the rules. One of you has been smuggling drugs into the prison; we have found specimens in each cell. It only remains to learn which of you is the guilty party; and that, I propose to uncover within one minute!"
He paused, and glared around again. The stillness was unbroken for a moment; then one prisoner coughed nervously. This started half the rest to doing the same; and under cover of the noise, Ernol whispered to the man on his right:
"No sight of him yet! I'm afraid you showed the drug too soon."
"I waited until I heard the clock strike," protested the other; and then both stood on their guard as the commission's deputy went on with his arraignment:
"It is my duty to inform you, although you probably already know it, that this building is made of iron. Floor, walls, and ceiling are the same." The doctor saw that the prisoners' feet were all bare. "And the whole place is heavily wired with high-power electricity!
"The guards and I will now leave you to yourselves." His teeth showed in an evil smile. "We will give you a few kilowatts as a starter, and shut it off after ten seconds. If you are not ready by that time to tell me which of you is guilty, I will then let you have the current twice as strong!"
The prisoners looked at each other anxiously. Ernol threw back his head defiantly.
"Don't weaken!" he exclaimed. "The juice can't hurt you!"
Immediately the guards backed out, keeping their weapons trained on the crowd. Norbith was the last to go. He left the door open; and from where the boy stood he could plainly watch the man as he worked the switches, just outside.
Instantly the place was in an uproar. Of course, the doctor felt nothing of the prickling, nerve-shaking pain that gripped every one of those barefoot men. They leaped and darted here and there, bluish sparks flashing wherever they touched the iron; or they fell after a step or two and writhed on the floor, shrieking and cursing with the exquisite torture of that awful current. Ernol alone kept from shouting; he stood and took it, trembling like a leaf.
But it lasted only a moment or two. The uproar ceased. Norbith stepped back into the room.
"Well?" The slow smile again. "Want to tell now?"
For answer the boy clapped his hand to his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. Norbith stared in astonishment. Then, all of a sudden, a tremendous thing happened.
A veritable hurricane swooped down upon the place. There was a vast rush of wind, accompanied by a thunderous noise, like breakers. Then two huge masses of metal clanged against the sides of the building; there was a grinding crash, and the whole structure rocked and swayed as though in the grasp of some supernatural monster. Next second the lights went out; the wires had snapped.
"All aboard; look out, below!" sang out a voice. It was Fort, calling from far overhead.
And then, slowly at first but with quickening speed, the iron building rose into the air; arose, and floated away like a toy balloon. It was fast in the grip of the Cobulus's grappling-irons!
Norbith was the only officer left in the room. He regained his senses with lightning speed. Out came his electric torch; he trained it on the prisoners.
"By God!" he cursed. "You'll not get away, you—" And he fumbled with the weapon in his belt.
It was one of the boxlike machine guns. Young Ernol hesitated only an instant. Then he dashed forward.
The box spat fire. The boy threw his weight against the deputy, so that the man lost his balance and toppled out the door into the arms of the guards below.
And the doctor brought his own mind back to his body not one second before the lad, burnt through and through by the flame of the man's weapon, fell back into the room—dead.
From then on until the end the doctor was out of it. Try as he might, he could find no other mind with which to connect, no other view-point like his own. He had to content himself with what the others learned.
Their knowledge of the rescue stopped short soon after the Cobulus, with its living freight, quitted the prison grounds. Reblong, as Smith watched, continued to operate the engines during about two hundred miles of flight; then Fort, having shown one of his new comrades how to steer, came down to the instruments, leading the force of cleaners whom he had kidnaped.
"Thanks very much," to Reblong, in the voice of a man who was having the time of his life. "I dare say you feel a little sour about this; but later on you can have the satisfaction of having helped, even though against your will."
"What are you going to do now?" Reblong wanted to know as the athlete released him from his chair. The other Capellans were content to stare and listen.
The strange glint came back into Fort's eyes. "It's up to you, folks!" And he explained the situation, making it clear that they, the cruiser's workmen, would not dare return and tell the truth, for fear of punishment for disloyalty. In the end the Cobulus was halted, and Reblong and the rest were set down in an unsettled mountain country, with enough supplies to last a year.
Thus the engineer became a fugitive. Smith learned nothing further from him. For all practical purposes, the investigation was narrowed down to what Billie, through Mona, and her husband, through Powart, were able to uncover. But it was enough; enough to strain their imaginations to the snapping point, and make all four doubt their new-found senses.
Van Emmon declared that he intended to warn Powart that his plan was suspected. "It's only fair," stoutly, "after what you told Fort, through Mona." And Billie had no answer to that.
So the geologist watched the chief closely, finding it decidedly hard to catch him in the required state of semiconsciousness. Apparently Powart was always alert, even up to the exact moment of going to sleep; after which he invariably slept like a log, but awakening with a start, bolt upright in bed. But Van Emmon continued to watch his chance.
Meanwhile another message had been received from the Alma expedition. It ran as follows, after decoding:
People here are planning to construct a great fleet to visit Hafen and Holl about the middle of next year. To carry a regular army of missionaries, to preach the gospel of social democracy.
Better make the most of your reign while it lasts, Mr. Powart.Married yet?
The chairman was glad to get this, rather than otherwise. Somehow the thing strengthened his whole plan. From his standpoint the proposed invasion of missionaries "to preach the gospel of social democracy," was far more to be feared than a military invasion.
So, although he made certain changes in the message, he did not have to counterfeit his earnestness when he presented the matter to his staff, the former commission. Perhaps the expedition's last remark, "Married yet?" had something to do with the vigor of his tones.
"They are planning," he told the nine, "to undo all that our civilization has accomplished. Unless we can circumvent them, Hafen and Holl will be turned into bedlam."
He lost no time about what he had next to say. "Knowing what we do about Alma's designs upon us, I believe that it would be folly to wait until we are attacked. They doubtless possess inventions against which we would be powerless; they are such highly advanced people in such matters. So what I propose is to prevent them from attacking us at all!"
He paused portentously, finding in each face before him an anxious excitement which was exactly what he wanted. They were hanging breathlessly upon his words.
"Let me remind you that Alma is not only our nearest neighbor in the solar system, but that, at present, only a few million miles separate us. She is within a few weeks of the nearest point. Furthermore"—speaking with care—"we must remember that Alma is not only nearer the sun than we are, but it is a much older planet. Were it not for the glass with which she is completely roofed in, the people would suffer from lack of air. In short, this roof of theirs is vitality itself to them. Now, my campaign—subject to your suggestions and advices—shall be to puncture that roof!"
The sensation was tremendous. None of the nine had ever heard the like before. And yet, such was the dominating energy of their commander, it bridged the gap for them all; instantly they saw that his idea was the best possible.
"The only question, of course—sir—is the matter of means." The shock-headed man spoke with immense respect. The others looked as though they envied him his nerve.
Powart was ready with his reply. "I have already considered this. Briefly we shall construct a piece of artillery of such dimensions that we can bombard the planet directly!"
He explained that it meant operations on a scale never before attempted. It meant a cannon as much beyond what had ever been made before, as that roof had exceeded anything of the kind. "And so far as I have figured the matter, the total resources of Holl will have to be pressed into service for the purpose. There will be no opportunity for insurrection while this work is in progress."
And he went on to elaborate. The nine made some suggestions, a few of which were adopted. The thing was worked out, then and there, with such completeness that the plan was publicly announced the very next day.
Powart himself carried a copy of the manifesto to Mona. He found her superintending the work of her gardeners. She did suggest going into the house, but offered him a seat on the grass beside her. He stood instead.
"It seems to be the only thing to do," commented the surgeon, after reading the document in silence. She had not the remotest idea, of course, that the whole thing was based upon pure fraud. "Are you sure that this bombardment will not cost a good many lives?"
"I doubt if there will be any loss at all," he replied. "It is my intention to communicate with Alma just before the first shot is fired, and warn them what to expect; so that they can keep away from the spot we shall aim at, and get supplies ready for repairing the break."
"I see. Your plan is to keep them so busy mending breaks that they will lose all interest in their proposed invasion." She laughed a little. "Really, it is a rather comical sort of warfare. But you certainly deserve a great deal of credit for finding such a humane way out of the difficulty. You will go down in history as the world's greatest man!"
Powart drew a deep breath. But he said quietly enough, "Don't you think that I have done enough to—dispose of that objection of yours?"
She was momentarily at a loss for words. "Really—the thing is so immense—I can hardly believe that you did all this entirely on my account. Did you?"
He was taken off his guard. "Yes—I mean, no. Your objection was what set me to thinking; but the opportunity of doing our people a service—that, Mona, is what—" He hesitated; it was not easy, with the girl staring innocently at him, declare that he had not deliberately formed his opportunity out of thin air.
But she had no suspicions. Billie had not been able to reach her again.
The four on the earth knew little of Fort. He called up Powart two days after the Cobulus's sensational flight, reporting that he had been kidnapped "by some masked men" along with Reblong and the others, but that he alone had escaped. The ship, was found, abandoned, in an undeveloped part of Holl; and all signs indicated that the former prisoners had separated at this point. Prolonged search failed to locate them, or the missing employees.
Fort continued to go and come quite as before. He called frequently upon Mona, with whom he was exceedingly careful to avoid all reference to Powart, for fear he might blurt out the truth. The girl told him that he still had a lot of time to make good; she would not marry, she said, until after all danger from Alma was past. He was satisfied.
"I have a little scheme up my sleeve," casually, "such as may amount to something, and may not. I need just about that much time to finish it, anyhow."
"Is it anything you can talk about now?"
"Not yet."
And the subject was dropped.
Thus matters stood when half the industrial army of Holl, taken from their regular tasks, were set to the making of the giant gun and its equally giant projectiles. Monstrous though they were to be, however, they were no less prodigious than Powart. Could Fort, wondered Mona, possibly equal him?
And so the weeks passed into months, and finally the great day came.
"I am glad to see so many moving-picture men," said Mona thoughtfully. "If it were not for photographs, I doubt if coming generations would believe this."
And she turned her glasses again upon the scene. From the cockpit of Fort's newest ornithopter, about three hundred yards from the ground and less than that distance from the spot, she could watch operations with exceptional ease. Fort agreed with her comment.
"Yes; to merely state that the mouth of that cannon is a hundred feet in diameter, and that it is set a mile and a half into the ground, at an angle of thirty degrees—it's too much of a strain on the imagination. However, I understand they've taken flash-light pictures from the interior, such as will make it easier to believe."
A huge compound crane was slowly swinging the first projectile into place over the muzzle of that colossal gun. Mona eyed the immense shell with curiosity.
"As I understand it," she said, "the projectile is really a number of shells, telescoping, one within another. I've forgotten how many there are."
"Fifty. The idea, of course, is that the original charge of powder within the cannon will send the projectile at something like two miles a second. Upon reaching a certain point in space another charge will be automatically fired in the base of the outermost shell. Thus it will act as another cannon, from which the remaining shells will be shot. And so on, until the forty-ninth shell has been blown to the rear. The remaining one will, by that time, have traveled far enough to get out of our gravitation into Alma's."
"What is the size of the fiftieth shell?"
"Only two feet in diameter; [Footnote: All dimensions are necessarily a matter of judgment; but they represent the opinion of an architect, whose sense of proportion is presumably better than average.] but of such length that it will hold five tons of explosive. It is expected to demolish a square mile of their roof."
The great projectile was carefully lowered until its tip was flush with the volcano-like mouth of the cannon. The proceeding took a long time; and it was well toward the end of the work that Powart's handsome yacht swept into the space provided for it in the circle of spectators. By prearrangement this space was next to that occupied by Mona and Fort.
As soon as the yacht had come to a stop its thrumming wings keeping it as steadily suspended in mid air as any of the lighter craft roundabout, Powart himself stepped out upon the tiny bridge. It was the signal for a great outburst of applause, in which Fort joined as heartily as any one.
"You don't seem at all envious of Mr. Powart," commented Mona, watching the athlete curiously.
He looked around as though surprised, and protested:
"On the contrary, I am really proud of his success. You see, it's this way, Mona: If he fails, then I fail too!"
And before she could ask what he meant he raised his voice enough for the dictator to hear:
"Congratulations, Powart! Everything coming along all right?"
Powart gave Fort one of his piercing looks, but showed no sign of irritation as he replied: "All reports satisfactory. We shall have our little fireworks promptly on the second." Then to Mona: "Sorry I cannot invite you aboard my ship; but I shall be so occupied with the ceremonial end of this, you know, that—"
"Of course," instantly. "I would really be in the way; and I shouldn't care to be that, to-day of all days."
And Van Emmon, through Powart's eyes, judged that the dictator stood mountain-high in her respect at that instant.
Fort listened with the utmost indifference, seeming to take a boy's rapt interest in the spectacle below him rather than in the affair at his elbow. He glanced at his watch and remarked: "Less than half an hour now. I can hardly wait!"
Mona eyed him speculatively. "What did you mean, just now, about your success depending upon Mr. Powart's?"
"Just that," he returned lightly. "Why, if he fails, my little scheme is a miserable fiasco! I shan't be able to marry you at all; that is, unless you grant an extension!"
Mona did not respond to his levity.
"I wish you'd be serious!" she rebuked him. "Just think what this affair means!"
He pretended to be thoughtful. "Oh, to Alma, you mean! Yes, indeed; the folks will be badly upset, I imagine, if the projectile actually reaches their roof."
"Why, do you think it may not?" surprised.
"It's barely possible. The whole thing has been very scientifically calculated, of course; but the slightest flaw in the mathematics could cause a miss. Yes, the projectile may never reach its mark; it's something to be considered."
"In which case," returned Mona, evidently convinced that he was teasing, "in which case, your own scheme falls through!"
"Oh, no," with the utmost calm. "My scheme depends upon the cannon, not upon the projectile."
Mona nearly lost her temper. "I wish you wouldn't talk in riddles!" But Fort was plainly unwilling to say anything further just then; he changed the subject, directing Mona's glasses toward a point far to the rear, where the blue wall of the contact loomed, some twenty miles away. The spot had been chosen, of course, because there were fewer inhabitants in that locality than any other; the discharge of the gun would mean an immense volume of smoke and gas, likely to prove disagreeable for days. Nobody cared to live near the contact, because of its queer, sunless conditions.
"Almost time we were getting out of here," said Fort, after another look at his watch. As he spoke a warning whistle on Powart's yacht sounded shrilly; and with one accord the surrounding horde of sightseers—all belonging to the leisure class, of course—began to back away from the spot. The workmen, down below, were already taking flight. A moment later Powart, speaking for the benefit of a recording phonograph, began as follows:
"Precisely at the hour, minute and second determined by the commission's mathematicians the projectile will be slid into the cannon. The concussion will explode the powder in the breech. This final act is to take place"—he glanced at his watch—"within two minutes.
"By so doing, the people of Hafen and Holl, through me, their commander-in-chief, do hereby deliberately take the offensive against Alma." He hesitated, then went on with fresh determination: "Rather than permit them to prepare for the threatened invasion, then, we thus proceed to bombard their roof, in order to so harass them that they shall be made helpless against us."
Mona turned her gaze from the dictator, and took up her glasses. The great cannon was nearly a mile away from them now; not a single aircraft was closer than Fort's and Powart's, which were still backing away. The blast was not a thing to be sneered at. Mona's hands shook with excitement.
Powart's eyes were on his watch. "The thing is beyond all human power to prevent now. The projectile will be released by clockwork. In fact"—his voice rose, his excitement finally getting the better of him—"it is even now sliding! It is only a matter of seconds; the projectile is lubricated so as to slide easily."
A breathless pause; another look at the watch, then:
"By this time, my friends, the projectile has reached—"
And even as the words quit his mouth, the cannon belched forth.
Mona removed from her ears two tiny devices like collar-buttons. She noted Fort and the others doing the same. Without this protection their eardrums would have been burst. And while the girl was doing this she heard the athlete hailing the dictator:
"Good for you, Powart! It's a fine job, and I'm ever so much obliged to you."
The dictator stared in amazement. Mona looked from the one to the other, perplexed. Fort was laughing shakily.
"You may as well make your apologies now, Powart; you're out of it!I've won, and you've lost! I've done a bigger thing than you have!"
Mona gave an exclamation of impatience. "What do you mean?" she cried shrilly. "Are you out of your head?"
"Not a bit of it! I mean just what I say! Powart hasn't succeeded; he's failed. And because he has failed, I've outdone him."
He was gazing impudently at the dictator as he said this; Powart was leaning over the railing of the bridge, a short distance away, too indignant to speak. Next instant, however, Fort glanced at his watch.
"Have to be leaving you now," he called. He turned his machine around. "You'll learn soon enough, Powart, exactly what I mean. And you'll know that I'm right. Good-by!"
Within a minute he and Mona were two miles away. Fort kept silent all the while. He seemed to be intent upon getting the most out of his machine, and kept looking anxiously at his watch. Finally Mona could hold in no longer.
"Boy, I've simply got to know what your game is. You've kept me waiting long enough."
He immediately began to explain. First, he told her frankly and fully, just what she had said to him over the telephone, when she was under Billie's "influence." "I was so sure it was genuine I went right ahead on that lead, Mona."
"You are positive you heard me say that?" from the girl thoughtfully.
"Absolutely. And somehow I knew it was the truth."
"Powart had tricked us; not merely the workers, whom he has been hoodwinking all along, but you and me and all the rest! So I looked into the matter and discovered that the poor devils on Holl have been treated all wrong. All wrong, Mona! I never realized it before, until I investigated; but they've been enduring rank injustice for generations, and we've encouraged them to be satisfied with it."
"I know it," she interrupted softly. "I've known it for years, boy.What could we do to help them?"
"Exactly!" cried Fort, looking ahead and down, toward the chasm of the contact, then at his watch once more. "Exactly what I found out, Mona! There was no use telling them the truth; they wouldn't believe it! They were too well satisfied.
"And so, when I heard of Powart's scheme to bombard Alma, I saw a way to free the poor idiots on Holl! A way to release them from their bondage—OUR bonds, Mona—and defeat Powart's trickery, and win you—all at one move!"
The girl was plainly thrilled. Yet she kept her voice comparatively cool as she asked:
"So far, so good. But I don't see that you've done anything at all except to kidnap me."
He made an impatient gesture. "Look at the ground!" he ordered curtly; and Mona wonderingly obeyed.
They were nearly to the contact. This time, however, they were not flying down into the cleft, but over it. The curious, canonlike chasm where the two worlds touched was perhaps ten miles below them.
"Look closely!" shouted Fort excitedly. He was glancing at his watch again, and changing the angle of his wings. "By heavens, we are just in time!" The craft dove perilously; he straightened its course. "Look closely, I tell you! It's something you've never seen before, and will never see again!"
And Mona, staring down at the point where Hafen and Holl came together—the curious region of balanced gravitations, like nothing else anywhere in the universe—saw, as she passed over, something that made her senses whirl.
Hafen and Holl were no longer one!
The two globes were now a quarter of a mile apart, and the distance was steadily growing. Even as Mona watched the gap increased until almost a mile separated the two great worlds.
"Do you see?" cried Fort, fairly squirming in his seat. "Do you see what I've done, Mona?"
"I've taken Ernol and his friends—the bunch I rescued from the prison—and put them to work. Put them to work digging a tunnel! We've been flying above that tunnel just now. It runs—from the contact to the cannon—the bottom of the cannon, Mona!
"When Powart's shot was fired, the recoil—the kick—broke the contact! Understand? Do you see it?"
Mona stared in dull wonder. When she found voice it was strangely flat and commonplace.
"Yes, but—I don't see how the recoil could separate two worlds as large as Hafen and Holl!"
Fort chuckled breathlessly. "Your forget something. You're thinking only of the gravitation; you're forgetting the centrifugal force."
Hafen and Holl, by their daily rotation—around the contact as a center—were always tending to separate. That recoil was just enough to turn the balance; they'll never touch again.
"And what's more," he rushed on, "Powart's shot is sure to miss! The recoil threw the cannon out of line. Hafen had already mooved before the projectile left the gun. Powart—has failed!"
Suddenly the surgeon wheeled upon the athlete. "Boy, we're headed in the wrong way! We'll land in Holl, not in Hafen!"
"Who wants to live in Hafen now?" he shouted, clinging desperately to his controls. The craft was tossing in the newly created air-currents. "Don't you see?
"I've cut Hafen from Holl forever! The workers aren't to be slaves any longer; they're to have their world to themselves, to use entirely for their own benefit; not for the owners!
"And the owners—back there—they're going to have their own world, too, just as they've always insisted! But from now on it's to be their farm, too, and their factory; they've got to get along without Holl from now on.
"Mona—the commission wouldn't allow evolution, and the workers wouldn't listen to revolution! So I've given them—devolution!"
"What?" she cried.
"I've given them devolution. I've given the race of man—a fresh start."
But Mona was scarcely listening.
"Turn back!" she screamed. "I want to go back to my home! I don't want to live in Holl. Turn back, I tell you!"
Fort's face went white. He looked up at her appealingly. "You don't mean that, Mona! Say you don't!"
"I do! I want to go back!" She glanced down at the ever-widening gap. "Hurry! Turn back, or I'll do it myself!"
Fort gazed straight into her eyes for an instant; then, his face whiter than ever, he brought the craft to an abrupt halt in mid air. He looked at his watch for the last time, and said, in a strangely hollow voice:
"Just as you wish, Mona. There's plenty of time to get back before the air gets too thin in the gap.
"The point is, though, that if you go, you go alone!" They looked at one another unwaveringly. "So far as I'm concerned, I shall spend the rest of my life on Holl! No Hafen for mine! From now on I live with the workers. Come—what do you say, Mona?"
She answered instantly and stubbornly: "I go back. What about you?"
He took a parachute from a locker. "Holl is below." He buckled the thing across his chest and stepped up on the edge of the cockpit.
"Do you mean it, dear?" said he softly.
She stared at him stonily. He turned away, his mouth shaking slightly, then held out his hand.
"Good-by, then, for the last time!"
Mona suddenly grasped his hand. For an instant hope flared in Fort's eyes, then faded, leaving his face gray and drawn. He poised hiself, letting go her hand reluctantly. Then he turned resolutely.
"It's the only thing for a man to do, Mona! As for you—turn about and go as fast as you canl You've got just time enough. Good-by!"
And with Mona unable to utter a single word, able only to watch and to feel, the athlete leaned to one side so as to clear the wing, pulled his cap down tightly, and jumped into space.