Chapter XII

The silence in the auditorium was broken by the clicking of a telegraph instrument, which acted as a monitor on the receiving desk. The mechanical equipment on the stage was similar to that found in the radio department of any large New York newspaper office, with two typewriter desks, one fitted for the receiving and transcribing of code messages, the other equipped for their transmission.

The Martian signals were coming in by direct wire control, from the receiving station Henry had erected for his interstellar experiments, at great expense, at Orient Point, Long Island, about seventy miles from the city. The replies from the earth, that were to follow, would go by wire control from the stage to his transmitting station, situated at Longhampton. His two private stations were twenty-five miles apart, a distance necessary to prevent interference.

The moment Mars was reported on the air by the engineers at the Long Island receiving station, Henry's mind, likewise Olinski's, suddenly developed, as it were, enormous dynamic activity, and the audience seemed to become so remote to them as to be non-existent.

Henry strode back quickly to the microphone, and said: "Stand by all stations! Stand by, Mars! We can hear Mars calling! Lost their way? Hello, Mars! Earth--New York--calling!"

Olinski was an expert wireless operator and typist. His fingers flew over the keyboard as he transcribed the Martian code characters that were being impressed by the ink recorder on narrow tape, resembling ticker tape. Operated by a pull-motor, this tape ran in a brass-groove attached to the front of the typewriter, under the operator's eyes.

On the completion of each sentence, Olinski would call: "All right!" and Henry would rip off a short length of paper containing the sentence, and begin the second transcription, into understandable English--the Martian classical style. He wrote them in chalk, on the blackboard, while Olinski's laboratory assistant read them off into the microphone.

The blackboard was just about half filled when the short waves began to fade, and nothing further was heard except a weird chattering in a receiving apparatus at the back of the stage. The message, so far received, decoded and transcribed on the blackboard, ran as follows:

"Salutations to the men of the Blue Sphere, with one moon, from the
white men, your brothers in space, inhabitants of the Red Sphere,
with two moons! Electric waves, radiant energy of the gods, at last
bridges the fearsome gulf that yawns between us. No longer shall
we be as strangers in our great universe, but united in bonds of
sympathy and understanding. Your wireless messages fill the air;
they have taught us many strange and wonderful things. Yet we
thirst for more knowledge of thee, and the planet on which thou
dwellest. The Red Sphere is matter in old age, slowly drying up. We
are facing extinction. Long has been the struggle of the minority,
the white race, against the majority, the ape-men of the jungles,
now warring to become our masters...."

From this point on, a considerable portion of the message could not get through, apparently due to some ethereal disturbance; a turbulence, somewhere off in space, which Olinski labelled as "very spotty."

Suddenly, the engineers' efforts to re-contact Mars were successful. Fading and fluttering, the dots and dashes of the code began once again to register on the receiving machine. Transcribed by Henry on the blackboard, although piece-meal, the message was fairly intelligible, and really contained more startling information than the first part. It read thus:

"If thou desireth greater knowledge of our planet and people, look
for our ship in the sky. Search carefully, on your mountain-tops
and in the valleys. Fourteen suns have passed since the ship,
launched in the darkness of an equatorial solar eclipse, was caught
up in a cloud of cosmic bodies streaming over our planet. The key
of knowledge thou wilt find in this ship ... scroll written by
young priest-astronomer, darling of the gods, who first deciphered
code of your strange language.... Our astronomers study your planet
diligently through holes in your clouds.... They see great bluish
masses ... can this be water?..."

The second part of the message quickly fading out, Henry's presence of mind did not forsake him in this emergency. Immediately, he began to dictate a reply to the Martian message, which Olinski quickly coded and transmitted, with breathless interest on the part of the audience.

In this Mars-bound reply, Henry laid strong emphasis on the "ship," mentioned by the Martians in their message, concluding as follows:

"Explain more fully about the ship in the sky. We have no knowledge
of this. Meteors by the thousands have been spraying the Blue
Sphere for many days. This stream of meteors may be the same
swarm that your own planet encountered, fourteen suns ago. Answer
immediately."

But no answer came.

Highly agitated, and believing himself to be on the brink of a still greater discovery, Henry rushed again to the microphone, and immediately broadcast a world-wide appeal for assistance in finding the Martian "ship," which he described as a rocket. Then, as a cheerful glow of anticipated success diffused itself all over him, he offered a reward of $25,000 to any trooper, or constable, from Tokyo to Timbuctoo, or to any one, in any part of the world, who found the "ship."

"This so-called ship," he explained to his audience, visible and invisible, "is most likely a metal rocket, which the Martians have catapulted into the sky during a solar eclipse and meteoric display. Their two tiny moons are so close to the surface of Mars, and their speeds are so great, that along the Martian equator there are three or four total solar eclipses every day.

"Apparently, they have taken advantage of one of these eclipses, in their astronomical calculations, in directing the rocket earthward. It may have been driven, by some mighty engine, beyond the planet's weak pull of gravity, into this very same cloud of cosmic bodies that are at present showering the earth. The 'fourteen suns,' mentioned in their radio message, really mean fourteen days. Their day is but a half hour longer than our own. Making all allowances, it would take a rocket, catapulted from Mars, about two weeks to travel through space, and reach the earth."

By this time, every one in the auditorium was on the edge of their seats, actually quivering with excitement. It was like a mad-house when the meeting was finally adjourned. People stood on their seats, waving hats and handkerchiefs, and cheering Henry and Olinski.

That night stands out in my mind as one of gradually accumulating excitement. The demonstration ending in the wildest sort of clamor, and a general rush for the stage, to congratulate my brother and his co-worker, I became separated from my party. Jane disappeared from my view as completely as though she had dropped through a trap-door in the floor.

Pat, somehow, lost sight of Prince Matani in the crush. I don't think she minded much, or she may have lost him intentionally. I spent ten excited and violent minutes looking for her and Jane. When I finally reached the lobby, there I found Pat talking to McGinity, as calmly as you please, and she looked entirely happy. After a quick and agitated good-night, he left her in my care, and dashed off to the Daily Recorder office, to write what he termed a "new lead" for the second edition. During the demonstration, he had despatched his copy, page by page, by messenger boy, from the press table.

Pat and I had to literally fight our way through the milling thousands, outside the NRC Building, to reach our car, in a nearby parking space. We found Jane in the car. She acted rather peevish, and steadily persisted in saying that it was my fault that we had become separated. There we waited a full hour for Henry. At last, I left the car to look for him.

Suddenly, I was caught in a crowd that had broken through the police lines. A stout man collided with me, and knocked me down; then some one ran over me as I lay on the pavement. I believe the crowd would have trampled me to death then and there if a policeman had not rescued me. Then Olinski came rushing up to me. I must have presented a queer sight to him, my hat at a strange angle and my clothes mussed up.

"Where's Henry?" I gasped.

"In a telephone booth, in the lobby, hiding from the crowd," Olinski replied, breathlessly. "The crowd insists on carrying us both around on its shoulders, like a hero aviator, or a victorious football player. I've just escaped by the merest chance. Better get back to your car, and wait."

He dashed off, and I returned to the car. Another half hour, and still no sign of Henry. I was beginning to be quite alarmed when he appeared, at last, accompanied by a young man.

"Bob!" exclaimed Pat, when she saw them coming.

Sure enough, it was McGinity. Henry had waited until he had cleaned up on his story, and was now taking him to our country place to spend the night. It was plain to see Henry had formed a sort of attachment for the young reporter. As it turned out, McGinity was to be a valuable ally the next day.

"I'm up to the neck in this thing now," Henry explained, as he joined us in the car, "and no one can render me more valuable assistance than Mr. McGinity. I've asked him to help me in making up a statement for the press, which I've promised to hand out, first thing in the morning."

McGinity insisted on riding in the front seat with the chauffeur. One look at Pat convinced me that she was very pleased to have him with us, even if he rode astride the radiator hood, which was hardly possible, with the chauffeur's usual rocket-like speed as we rushed through the dark countryside.

It was long past midnight when we rolled through the lodge-gate at our Sands Cliff estate. During the drive from the city, many meteors had flashed across the sky. We had just stepped up to our front door when there was a sudden flash of prismatic colors almost directly over our heads, a soft whirring noise, like a plane makes in the dead of night, followed by a heavy thud, indicating that perhaps some heavy object had struck the ground. Then everything became dark and quiet again.

The incident had an electrical effect on Henry. "That was a meteorite, as sure as shot!" he exclaimed. "Looks like it fell somewhere along the water-front. What about going down, and having a look round?"

"Let's go," said McGinity, eagerly.

It took some argument on the part of Jane and myself to keep them from making the search, but at last we managed it. Half an hour later, we were all in our beds. I was so dead tired, I felt that I would never wake up once I got to sleep.

It was bright daylight, seven o'clock in the morning, when I was wakened by Niki knocking loudly at my bedroom door.