Chapter V: Part 5

Presently he reached the bottom of the incline and shot out over the smooth, frozen surface of the sea. Here his momentum was quickly checked. As soon as he could regain his feet he stood up and peered round him. But only the driving snow, which all but obscured his hand before him, rewarded his gaze. He shouted several times, listening intently after each call. The snow seemed to muffle his cries in the making. Nothing was visible round him but a mil of snowflakes. His ears tingled with the bitter cold even under the fur cap he wore. He shouted again, removing his cap to listen afterward.

A faint answering cry floated back to him; but whether this was simply the rebound of his own cry from the dense wall of snow he did not know. As he continued to listen the same faint cry again came to him, this time a bit stronger, seemingly from away to his left. He clapped his cap on and strode off in that direction.

Several times he called out again, stopping to listen each time. Again that faint echo mocked him, but this time it seemed to come from behind. The well-known difficulty of determining the direction from which a sound comes in a fog came to Robert’s mind, and he despaired as he realized the same difficulty in attempting to find a distant call in the falling snow.

Just then the cry sounded again, and this time it was undeniably plainer. Robert shouted in reply and was overjoyed to hear it once more increased in volume. He hurried toward it, shouting and listening alternately.

A moment later Taggert strode from out of the white veil.

“The wandering echo found at last,” Robert greeted him, while they pounded each other on the back in joyous relief.

“Where in Sam Hill are we?” Taggert wanted to know.

“Question is, in which direction is the _Sphere_?” cried Robert.

“Well put. What’s the answer?”

“Have you any idea from what direction you slid out here?”

“Nope. Have you?”

They stared at each other blankly. Then the ridiculousness of their cross-questioning struck them and they laughed together. For the moment the seriousness of their plight was forgotten. The white flakes swirled about them, settling upon their heads and shoulders till they looked like snow-men.

An idea suddenly occurred to Robert.

“This storm arrived from ahead of us when we were on our way back to the _Sphere_, didn’t it?” he asked.

“Believe it did,” agreed Taggert.

“Well, then, unless the direction of the wind has changed, we have only to push on at right angles to it, with it blowing on our left, to eventually come upon the shore which we left.”

“Right you are!” exclaimed Taggert, after a moment’s reflection.

So they pushed ahead in the direction indicated for several minutes, making fair progress in spite of the rapidly increasing wind which swept the smooth ice clean, leaving a difficult footing. Each minute they expected to come upon the slope up the shore, where they hoped to find a crevice in the raised cakes which would offer sufficient footing to scramble up the slick incline to the ground beyond. Still the blank wall of driven white revealed nothing but the level floor of ice, ever stretching a few feet ahead of them as they shuffled along.

“Seems as if we should have raised something by this time,” said Taggert presently.

“The wind must have shifted,” said Robert. “If it hasn’t changed much, though, we should reach the shore anyway soon.”

So they continued onward, half blinded by the snow, the bitter wind whipping round their bodies. With each step the hope of reaching the _Sphere_ became weaker. The princess’ anxiety recurred to Robert as he plodded doggedly on ahead of Taggert. He wondered dully whether he should ever see her again. Well, at any rate, she was once more safely within her own country. He was thankful for that much. His reflections were cut short suddenly as he sprawled forward upon the ice, tripping up Taggert, who was following him closely. Caught unawares, Robert fell on all fours, knocking the breath out of him.

“’T’ell!” spluttered Taggert, scrambling up.

As Robert also struggled to his knees he saw that he had tripped over a crevice in the ice. It was the edge of a slightly higher block which sloped upward. The realization came to him suddenly that they had finally reached their first goal!

After some difficulty they managed to clamber up one of the perpendicular cracks between the slippery blocks.

Upon reaching the ground, where the snow had now collected several inches deep, they looked about eagerly but in vain for some sign of the _Sphere_, or of their erstwhile companions.

“There is nothing for us to do but to plod on against the wind until we reach the point where we left the _Sphere_,” said Robert. “We should be near where we slipped down before.”

“Lead on,” said Taggert.

* * * * *

Once more they plodded ahead, keeping close to the ice blocks on their left. The now fine snow drove directly into their faces with stinging force, making it almost impossible to keep their eyes open enough to see.

For half an hour they pursued their way painfully. Only the exertion kept them from freezing in the increasing cold. The fierce wind whined about them hungrily, pitilessly, as if eager to make an end of them, while the eddies and drifts of snow round each depression or rock grew steadily deeper and more nearly impossible for them to plow through as their strength waned.

Robert realized that ere this they should certainly have reached the vicinity of the _Sphere_, but the snow restricted their view to a radius of less than ten feet. Unless they were fortunate enough to run right up on the _Sphere_, their chances of sighting it were remote. Even now they had lost touch with the border of ice, and, but for the uniform slope of the ground, and the general direction of the wind, would not have known whether they were still following the shore in the original direction or not. They shouted together many times but got no response. The snowfall and howling wind so muffled their cries that they despaired of being heard. Having continued on for some minutes longer they decided finally to go no farther, as they were convinced that they had already passed the point where they had left, the _Sphere_. A convenient rock, some ten feet high and of about the same breadth, offered temporary shelter.

“If Professor Palmer fired a shot we should hear it here,” Taggert suggested.

“I doubt it,” replied Robert. “This hubbub and the muffling effect of the snowfall might drown a report within a hundred yards.”

Here a startling thought occurred to Robert. What if the Martians took advantage of Professor Palmer’s isolation and made off with the _Sphere_?

“Why the silence and corrugated brow?” queried Taggert “An idea?”

“An idea, but no good,” Robert responded, forcing a grin.

“Well, you needn’t grin about it. I don’t see anything comical about the prospect of being buried under several tons of snow,” chided Taggert.

The wind had fashioned a sheltered hollow in the lee of the rock where they had taken refuge. The intense cold which prevailed in spite of the heavy snowfall, however, made it imperative that they keep in motion to avoid being frozen. Already Robert recognized a warning feeling of drowziness. He shook himself alert with an effort.

“Can’t sit here,” he said, suiting the action to the word by rising and stamping his feet. Stabbings as of a thousand needles seemed to run through them at first. If only there were some fuel! Matches they had in plenty.

Taggert struck a listening attitude. A familiar humming was faintly audible above the whine of the blizzard!

Together they listened with bated breath as the humming grew plainer. Alas, a few moments later it passed away, and with it went their hopes.

“Missed us,” ejaculated Taggert, with an involuntary oath.

The realization that the _Sphere_ had just passed them by in a vain search for them brought their already drooping spirits to zero for a while. Here had been safety and comfort within perhaps a few rods, and they had been unable to make their presence known. Robert pictured Professor Palmer’s anxious gaze as he peered downward into the veil of flying snow.

“Cheer up, Tag,” Robert admonished, with an attempt at enthusiasm which his feelings belied. “The professor will be doubling back trying to find us. He’ll run up on us yet.”

“Maybe he will--if he doesn’t bounce the old ball into the lake,” replied Taggert, doubtfully. “Say, I wish one of us had brought a ‘gat’ along so that we could signal him if he gets near us again.”

For several minutes they stamped about their cramped shelter, beating their arms round their bodies in an effort to keep up their circulation. As the time slipped by without further sound of the _Sphere_ their hopes dropped still lower. The situation was becoming desperate.

Their dismal reflections were abruptly interrupted by a resumption of the humming sound, heralding the approach of the _Sphere_ again. Both men stiffened, listening intently, the spark of revived hope burning again within their breasts as the fleeting moments passed. Would the _Sphere_ come close enough in this game of blind man’s buff to discover them? Or would it pass them by again, leaving them finally to their doom?

The prospect of freezing to death in the arctic region of a strange planet seemed a dreadful thing. In the heat of battle a man may find death in the midst of wild enthusiasm and patriotism. But here, hemmed in by a wall of beautiful, but deadly, flying flakes, there was no excitement to mask the death awaiting them--only a fearful realization of their fate, millions of miles away from their countrymen--alone! Yet in those fateful moments Robert’s thoughts were mainly of Zola. Would he ever see her again?

With leaping heart he realized that the _Sphere_ was coming closer--closer than before. He strained his eyes as he endeavored to pierce the intangible walls of their vast prison. Ah, what was that dark blur hurtling through the white froth? It was passing them by again. He joined with Taggert in his shouts. Fools, to think their muffled cries could rise above the tumult of the gale and the whir of the _Sphere’s_ machinery, piercing its thick, metal walls!

The fast-fading blur seemed to pause in its flight a moment. But even as they dared to hope, it passed out of sight again. Then quite abruptly it appeared again, this time moving toward them slowly, less than a dozen feet above the ground. The _Sphere’s_ bulging walls plowed through the snow as it swooped down, sending up a great flurry of the fine flakes. Robert caught himself idly likening it to a cannon ball fired into a great bin of flour.

His next recollection was of stumbling up the short flight of metal stairs into the comfortable warmth of the _Sphere’s_ main chamber, aided by Professor Palmer.

The Martians seemed genuinely concerned over their plight, and offered a confusion of advice. Fortunately, neither Robert nor Taggert had suffered any serious damage from their severe buffeting in the elements and were soon quite comfortable.

Robert, unable to shake off a strange feeling that the princess was in danger, and anxious to return to her in all haste, insisted on operating the _Sphere_ again. The big metal ball fairly quivered as he utilized its maximum power to reduce the distance between them and the capital as rapidly as possible.

Exerting the full power of the disk, Robert shot the _Sphere_ upward. Suddenly they emerged from the gray twilight of flying flakes into the sunshine. Beneath them the turbulent mists boiled and tumbled as if with anger over the escape of their prey.

A few minutes later Robert checked the _Sphere’s_ upward flight, darting southward toward the metropolis and his princess at a terrific speed.

Darkness came on quickly after leaving the pole as they passed into the night which had long since enveloped that part of the planet toward which they were headed. Like a cannon ball the _Sphere_ roared southward, the dim topography of the planet swaying dizzily below.

Prevailed upon by Robert, the others had decided to snatch some rest after a light repast. But he felt no fatigue in his anxiety to reach the princess.

The sun’s edge was peeping over the horizon once more as they neared Svergad. The others woke up and watched their approach interestedly. Soon the spires and domes of the northern metropolis appeared in the distance. A few minutes later they were drifting preparatory to landing.

Suddenly one of the Martians gasped.

“The enemy!” he cried, pointing.

All eyes followed his outstretched arm. Thousands of tents dotted the level plain beyond the city’s distant boundary, extending in all directions and partly encircling the city!

19

Upon their arrival in the palace, Robert and his companions found the royal household in an uproar. The emperor’s army, vastly superior in numbers and weapons, had already fought its way round two sides of the city and was fast surrounding it. Striking with unexpected promptness, and transported swiftly the greater part of the distance by rail, the advance forces had appeared before the city shortly after the _Sphere’s_ departure for the pole. Thus did the emperor elect to reply to Hakon’s ultimatum. In another day the Svergadians expected to be in a state of absolute siege.

It must not be supposed that the Martians had done away with arms and soldiers, even though they enjoyed one universal government. Rebellions were not unknown, and the central government had its hands full keeping all factions quiet. Emperor Kharnov, himself a usurper, maintained a strong army, ostensibly for policing and preserving order, but in reality to protect himself against the aspirations of his numerous enemies.

With but some seventy hours of food supply within the city boundaries, the situation seemed desperate. So far, Kharnov had made no specific demands, but it was expected that the conditions which he would dictate after encircling the city would hinge upon the possession of Zola.

It was in this hour of impending disaster that Robert had greatness thrust upon him. With implicit confidence in Robert’s ability, Hakon begged him to take charge of his forces to resist the invader. Zola’s trustful belief in him and her urging decided Robert. He became chief commander of the besieged forces.

Immediately upon his appointment Robert in turn appointed Taggert as his aid and placed Professor Palmer in charge of the palace defenses. His next step was to organize an immediate surprize counter-attack upon the invaders. Though he had not slept in many hours, during which time he had endured much, Robert felt no desire for sleep. The excitement and emergency confronting him buoyed him up for the time. He refused to rest until forced to.

Another hasty ascent in the _Sphere_ revealed to them the exact situation. The emperor’s main army had pushed northward along the fertile region of one of the two great parallel canals. It had stopped south of the metropolis, sending out smaller contingents in either direction to begin the encircling movement. This movement had already made considerable progress, encountering little resistance in the nearly deserted, small outlying towns whose loyal defenders had all rallied to Hakon’s main forces in Svergad. The right spur of the invaders had made the most progress, having succeeded in pushing more than half-way round the metropolis.

It was at this right spur that Robert decided to strike first, in an attempt to take it by surprize, cutting it off from the main army, with the hope of defeating it before the main army could come to its aid. He also planned to launch an attack simultaneously upon the main army in an effort to divert its attention from the spur.

A brief council of war with Hakon and his leaders followed, in which the exact point of attacks were determined upon. Also, orders were wired to all loyal pumping stations situated near the southern edge of the regions loyal to Hakon to shut off the water supply. This would deprive Kharnov’s supporters in the region of the equator of all water supplied by ducts leading from the northern polar cap; thus the emperor’s armies and his present supporters would soon be confronted with the difficult problem of existing without water in many regions. An ultimatum, demanding the immediate withdrawal of his forces and informing him of the discontinuance of the water supply until his retreat was well under way, was dispatched to Kharnov at once.

A system of signals from the _Sphere_ was decided upon. It was agreed that, as a weapon of destruction and direction, the _Sphere_ was their most powerful aid. The greatest concern was over the dwindling supply of petrol in its tanks, and the extreme difficulty which Hakon’s best chemists were having in obtaining enough of the planet’s meager supply of mineral oils to produce any quantity of this fuel. Robert was facing the alternative of either remaining to help defend Zola and her people with the possibility of never being able to return to the Earth, or of returning at once with the now barely sufficient supply of petrol to make the trip. He felt that he owed his companions the chance to decide, though he himself was determined to stand by the princess in any event.

“Old man, I’m with you to the finish. Aren’t we all partners in this adventure anyway?” was Taggert’s reply when Robert told him of their quandary.

And Professor Palmer echoed him.

Without further delay the attacks were launched. Lacking any means of observation from above, the invaders were at a disadvantage in spite of their superior numbers. The separation of the spur from the main body was accomplished as planned, and a second body of Hakon’s men striking at the head of the column of invaders completed their rout, killing many and taking the rest prisoners.

The arms captured were a welcome acquisition; but the problem of feeding several thousand prisoners was a difficult one. Fortunately, a small food supply train was captured with them. They were immediately put to work throwing up earthworks and conveying heavy equipment about.

One general and several other high officers were captured. A special guard was set over these valuable hostages, for their possession would be of advantage to Hakon when terms came to be considered.

During the attack Robert had directed his forces by means of a simple smoke tube apparatus with which the _Sphere_ was equipped, and by means of which long or short puffs of dense black smoke were ejected by manipulation of a plunger. The smoke was produced in a small oven chamber from ignited briquettes.

As the attack progressed perfectly, Robert did not utilize the terrible destructive force of the Norrensen Tube. Owing to the small reserve of petrol and consequently of electric energy depending upon it, he decided to withhold all knowledge of this weapon from their enemies until a particularly opportune time for its use presented itself. The enemy was not so considerate of him, however. Several times projectiles fired by their artillery screamed uncomfortably close past the _Sphere_. Fortunately these had no means of bursting, there being no explosives available on the planet.

The immediate effect of their successful attack upon the invaders was the latters’ withdrawal of their left encircling spur, and an evident preparation for a concentrated frontal attack.

Having looked to all important details of preparation to resist such an attack, Robert snatched a few hours of sleep. He lay down with his clothes on, exacting the promise that he would be wakened upon the first signs of an actual attack. Pickets were posted so that the enemy could not approach closer without their knowledge. The _Sphere_ had been brought down again and Robert and his companions rested in their quarters within the palace.

It was not till close upon dawn that Robert was aroused by Taggert’s shaking him vigorously.

“Hate to do it, Bob,” he was saying, as Robert sat up suddenly, “but those Wops are getting ready to raise hell again. Old Kharnov has sent a note of defiance, stating that as he will shortly be in possession of Svergad the temporary shutting off of the water supply doesn’t matter.”

Robert was on his feet in a moment and was striding through the doorway when he became aware of a hesitant restraining hand upon his arm. He turned to see Zola at his side. She crept into his arms.

“Darling!”

“Ah, my Robert, they would not let me come to you because Zola’s love does not matter when everyone is so busy fighting. But I couldn’t let you go away again without seeing you.”

“Little ghost! You come and go like a dream. How did you get here at this time?”

“Taggert, he helped me. No one else knows but my maid.”

“Good old Tag! But now I must hurry, dear, to help fight for you.”

“Take me with you, Ro-bert.”

“Not now, sweetheart. Stay here in safety till I return, and then you shall go back home with me if you wish,”

“And be with you always, my Robert?”

“Always!”

Here Taggert appeared suddenly, as from nowhere.

“Sorry to interrupt your tête-à-tête, people, but we must be getting on.”

A hurried leave-taking followed. Zola placed in Robert’s hands a small package, which he did not have time to examine then.

A thick haze hung over the dark landscape, which was just visible in the dim starlight. A tense quiet prevailed.

The _Sphere’s_ stall was readied quickly. All was well, and a few minutes later Robert and Taggert were rising rapidly in it above the sleeping city. The package given Robert by Zola was discovered to contain a small bottle of excellent wine and some _lana_, a nutritious cake, both of which were quite welcome, as he had not eaten anything for several hours.

Rising to a height of about four thousand feet, Robert allowed the _Sphere_ to drift slowly over the enemy’s lines. With the ports open, the sound of activity below came to them with startling clearness. It was plain that preparations were being made for an attack on the city.

Robert had reduced the speed of the gyrostats to a minimum in order that the invaders might not be aware of its proximity. Every light in the _Sphere_ was extinguished. It hung above the busy Martians--a great, dark globe of unsuspected menace.

Suddenly a sharp command rang out below. Immediately there followed a series of flashes accompanied by a corresponding series of dull thuds--sounds of the curious Martian electric artillery in action. Robert’s heart sank as he thought of Zola’s danger.

With the first thuds of the artillery below and the answering fire from the metropolis, the entire plain seemed fairly to seethe with activity. Bugles were blown, and commands rang out above the other sounds.

Robert switched on the _Sphere’s_ giant searchlight. A blinding shaft of light shot down upon the broiling mass of humanity beneath. A great cry of consternation was wafted up to them.

“Not exactly elated at our presence,” remarked Taggert, dryly.

“We’ll be about as welcome as a plague a few minutes from now,” remarked Robert.

Swinging the reflector about, he followed every movement of the army of invaders, pausing at intervals to flash instructions to the defenders by a prearranged code of signals corresponding to the smoke signals of the day. Already the enemy was swarming upon the small force of defenders in the outskirts of the metropolis.

Several projectiles sang past the _Sphere_, indicating that the invaders were not going to submit to its presence idly. A number of smaller searchlights were directed upon it from beneath, almost blinding Robert and Taggert as their eyes sought to pierce the darkness below. The invaders were not without defense.

Adopting a swift, staggered course, Robert managed partly to avoid the blinding beams of light. Instructing Taggert to continue these tactics, Robert prepared to use the _Sphere’s_ powerful weapon, the Norrensen Tube, against their enemies. He prayed only that it would not fail him now, and that their power would hold out long enough.

Calling out to Taggert to steady the _Sphere’s_ course, Robert carefully aimed the tube into the thickest of the invaders where Taggert played the searchlight’s shaft back and forth. Robert pulled the lever releasing the lightning bolt!

A blinding flash, and a rending crash followed! The _Sphere_ vibrated like a violin string. Only the goggles which they wore made it possible for Robert and Taggert to look upon the jagged pillar of incandescent flame which spattered upon the plain below with terrific force. So swift and brilliant was its course, that almost ere it had registered upon the retina of their eyes, it was gone, leaving them nearly powerless to see.

When they were again able to see and hear with fair distinctness, they became aware of a great hubbub below. The firing of the artillery had ceased and the attack of the invaders had turned into a rout. Hakon’s men were driving them back like sheep!

“God!” ejaculated Taggert, for once jarred out of his habitual sangfroid.

Robert was silent.

A vast pit was visible where the bolt had struck, and the bodies of hundreds of men were strewn round it. The demoralization of that division for the present was complete. The destructive force of the bolt was appalling, but the spectacle it presented had been even more so. The invaders were terrified beyond control by panic fear of this leaping bolt of fire from above.

Robert had no desire to take lives unnecessarily: If the first bolt was sufficient to cause the invaders to retreat or to cease fighting, he determined not to release a second one. He studied closely the movements of the armies. As if afraid to antagonize the _Sphere_ further, the invaders had ceased to play the beams of their searchlights upon it.

In the east the first faint flush of dawn was visible. Already the tall spires of the metropolis were touched with coral.

Robert became aware that the _Sphere_ had settled too close to the ground for safety in case of further firing from the hostile artillery.

“Better raise her another thousand, Taggert,” he called, turning to the latter, who was operating the machinery.

“Just what I was trying to do, old man, but she doesn’t respond.”

A swift examination proved Robert’s fears--that their reserve of power had been virtually exhausted by the tube! The speed of the gyrostats was perceptibly slackening. The _Sphere_ was sinking!

Feverishly they turned to the engine which drove the dynamo. With this running, enough current soon would be generated to lift the _Sphere_ out of danger. It was then that the extent of their calamity was discovered. The engine stubbornly refused to start, for one of those mysterious reasons to which engines are addicted. It persistently defied their combined efforts to diagnose the trouble.

In order to avoid crashing upon the plain, now less than a thousand feet below, Robert swung the disk upright and opened the shutters from its entire face. Even with its weakened power, unaided by the dying current, it would be almost sufficient to balance the _Sphere’s_ weight, as long as the gyrostats were turning slowly. Thus the crash might be averted, but at the same time it was impossible to utilize any side pull of the disk to carry them beyond the enemy’s lines. They were facing capture--perhaps death!

Finding that each was in the other’s way, Taggert, who had a knowledge of engines, continued to tinker with it while Robert looked on from a window, where he kept an eye also on the plain below.

The _Sphere_ continued to settle slowly, though they knew not what moment the gyrostats might stop, allowing them to crash down upon the plain. With each hundred feet of descent their hope grew stronger; but that they would fall into the enemy’s hands was now inevitable, for they were sinking into the very center of the camp.

Off to the south the sounds of fighting had ceased. Stretcher bearers were bringing in the wounded from that direction. Robert wondered dully how long it would be before he and Taggert would fall into the hands of the invaders.

Curiously enough, the Martians below were equally perturbed at the approach of the _Sphere_. Having witnessed its terrible destructive power, they felt absolutely at its mercy, and feared even to train a gun on it for fear that they would be wiped out immediately in retaliation. So far they did not suspect that the _Sphere_ was not descending at the will of its occupants.

Realization of this occurred to Robert.

“Maybe we can bluff it through, Tag,” he said, hopefully. “It’s our only chance.”

By this time the _Sphere_ had settled to within a bare fifty yards of the ground. Its buoyancy was now virtually the same as the slightly denser atmosphere at this height. It drifted slowly for several minutes, the gyrostats continuing to revolve softly.

The Martians had crowded round in a generous circle below. Mingled fear and curiosity were written upon their upturned faces, which could be seen quite clearly in the rapidly brightening daylight. A pompous officer pushed forward into the open space directly beneath the _Sphere_. Robert leaned out and addressed this individual.

“As emissaries of his excellency, the Governor of Svergad, I demand the immediate withdrawal of these forces,” Robert began, affecting a confidence which he was far from feeling.

“Fine. Go to it, boy!” encouraged Taggert in a hoarse whisper.

The officer did not seem surprized at Robert’s demand. But, unfortunately, in spite of his pompous manner, it appeared that he was not of sufficiently high rank to treat with so important a matter. Every moment was precious, for at any instant the _Sphere_ might betray their weakness by settling to the ground.

The officer politely stated that their demand would be referred at once to the generalissimo. Realizing the importance of satisfactorily completing negotiations before the _Sphere_ descended, Robert decided to take a bold stand.

“The generalissimo will not do. I must speak with the emperor quickly--here.”

As expected, the officer was visibly taken aback. Several valuable, fleeting seconds passed before he recovered from his surprize and indecision.

“Your request will be communicated to the emperor at once through the generalissimo,” he answered presently.

The minutes seemed like hours as Robert and Taggert anxiously awaited the reappearance of the official. Meanwhile the _Sphere_ very slowly settled lower and lower. Taggert’s efforts to start the engine had availed nothing. They could but wait idly with what patience they could summon. To have attempted utilizing part of the disk’s power to carry them beyond the enemy’s lines would but have resulted in disaster, for their present buoyancy was maintained only with the aid of the disk’s power (directed absolutely perpendicularly).

A small group moving toward them heralding the probable approach of the emperor or generalissimo revived hope in their breasts. They might yet maintain their strategic position long enough to drive home a bargain that the Martians would honor when they were obliged to descend and attempt to bluff their way through a difficult situation somehow.

“The old boy himself,” ejaculated Taggert as the group drew near.

Robert recognized the emperor in a car pulling up below. Seated opposite him was the officer to whom they had first talked, while beside the emperor was a much decorated and bedecked individual who he hoped was the generalissimo himself.

The latter stepped out of the car after the officer, and assisted the emperor to alight. The three of them slowly paced beneath the _Sphere_ as it drifted lightly with the soft morning breeze. The emperor was plainly angered and making a poor attempt to conceal the fact.

“What means this rude summons which his Highness, the emperor, has chosen to humor?” said the generalissimo; for that this _was_ the generalissimo they quickly discovered. His voice carried up to them clearly. Barely thirty feet separated them now.

“I will speak directly with the emperor himself,” Robert began. “As emissary of his Highness, the Governor of Svergad, I demand the immediate withdrawal of all forces from this region. Unless such a movement is begun without delay, we are prepared to wipe out your entire army by means of the terrible weapon which you have seen.”

The emperor raised a countenance dark with passion. The generalissimo checked him with a nervous grip on his arm as he was about to speak, addressing him earnestly in an undertone.

The emperor calmed himself with evident effort.

“You have the advantage of us,” he said. “Therefore, my armies will retire at once; but I warn you that you shall be conquered in the end and be made to suffer for this.”

“Very well, your Highness. I suggest that you give orders immediately for their retirement as, unless it is commenced within a few minutes. I shall resume their destruction.”

Again the generalissimo was obliged to restrain the emperor’s burst of passion. A moment later, at a curt nod of assent, from the emperor, the generalissimo dispatched the officer with a command to begin an immediate general retirement of all forces.

* * * * *

The first contingent was soon moving northward. The emperor and generalissimo had departed ominously for their headquarters. The _Sphere_ continued to drift idly, settling ever closer to the ground. The enemy forces still stretched more than a mile between the _Sphere_ and the city. How Robert and Taggert yearned for a stiffening of the breeze that they might be swept safely beyond the enemy’s lines before the descending _Sphere_ placed them in their power! Even now soldiers below paused in their preparations for retreat to gaze up at them curiously, albeit anxiously, evidently wondering why the _Sphere_ hovered so low. Should the true reason be guessed, their temporary victory would be lost.

The next ten minutes seemed like an eternity to Robert. It had brought them only a little nearer the city and their friends, while scarcely thirty feet separated them from the enemy. Some of the troops were already marching off toward the south beneath them, but it was a physical impossibility for the thousands still between the _Sphere_ and its goal to move out of the way in less than half an hour. And half an hour spelled almost certain disaster for the _Sphere_.

“Looks as if we’ll have to indulge in a little more diplomacy,” Robert remarked.

“Drop in upon his Royal Highness to bid him goo’bye, so to speak,” said Taggert.

“Something like that.”

At this moment the suspense was broken by a sudden lurch of the _Sphere_. The gyrostats had stopped!

With but the disk’s diminished power to break its fall, the _Sphere_ dropped into the sand with a jarring thud.

The Martians had carefully avoided the section beneath the _Sphere_. Consequently it fell clear. For several minutes they kept their distance. It was evident that they all feared this mysterious machine greatly.

Presently a pompous officer strode into the space about the _Sphere_. Clearly he saw in the situation great possibilities for his own future and he intended making the most of it. Yet, like the rest, he was not certain that the _Sphere_ was as helpless as it seemed. Before he had given an order. Robert stepped out of the _Sphere_.

Robert interrupted the officer as he was about to speak.

“I come to give warning that unless the retirement of all the emperor’s forces is accomplished more rapidly, I will resume their destruction,” he said, imperiously.

The Martian was visibly undecided. Perhaps he and his regiment would be wiped out if he attempted to hold the _Sphere_. He observed Taggert glaring at him balefully from a window. Nevertheless he was a brave man, especially when he thought of the brilliant future he might enjoy if he got away with this. A disagreeable smile disfigured his sharp-featured countenance.

“I think the emperor will soon have changed his mind about the retirement--just as soon as he knows that you have honored him by landing within his lines.”

“The emperor is too wise a man to delay the withdrawal of these troops,” answered Robert, “for even at this moment, should I choose, every man in sight would be blasted into atoms at a signal from me!”

The cocky officer’s assurance again was visibly shaken. Neither knowing that the death-dealing Norrensen shaft was rendered useless on account of its outlet being buried in the sand, nor being certain that the _Sphere’s_ power was exhausted, he must have feared instant annihilation if he persisted. A cunning light came into his eyes suddenly, and was as quickly veiled. Affecting a friendly attitude he strode over to within a couple feet of Robert. To have backed away from him would but have advertised their weakness, and any retreat from the circle about them was impossible. So he stood his ground and waited the officer’s next move.

As if about to take Robert into his confidence, he placed his hand upon Robert’s shoulder. Then like a flash he rapped out a command, at the same instant covering Robert with his _lahan_, the Martian electric automatic.

Immediately the ring of Martians closed in upon the _Sphere_, while the officer’s two aids hurried to his help. Counting on his immunity from a possible blast from the _Sphere_ while in close proximity to Robert, the crafty officer had dared to defy the _Sphere_. But he had not counted upon his prisoner’s hot-headedness.

Even as he whipped out the _lahan_, Robert started a dashing uppercut to his head. Before the surprized officer could fire or dodge, the blow caught him on the point of his jaw with a beautiful precision. He staggered and fell just before his anxious aids could reach him. Notwithstanding the gravity of the situation, Robert could not repress a laugh over the comical appearance of the little, pointed red beard on his late opponent’s chin, which was tilted serenely skyward, as he sprawled on his pompous back.

A few minutes later Robert was securely bound and led roughly away. His last glimpse of the _Sphere_ showed him a ring of shouting Martians round it, but no sign of Taggert.

20

Robert was taken to a large tent near by, where, without ceremony, he was securely fastened to the large center pole by means of chain and anklet like a criminal. Two armed guards were set to watch him, after having searched him and taken away the automatic with which he had been armed when he left the _Sphere_.

At noon a plate of coarse food was brought to him, and a cup of water. He found the food palatable and, being hungry despite the gloomy outlook, ate all of it. His guards stared at him intently all the while, evidently regarding the eating of an Earthbeing as a great curiosity.

The chain, a stout-linked affair which would have weighed heavily had he been on the Earth, allowed Robert little freedom of movement. The wooden stool which he had been furnished affording no rest for his back, soon grew dreadfully tiresome. He tried every position he could conceive for relief, each of which his guards regarded with fresh suspicion. Once he tried to engage them in conversation, but he succeeded only in drawing grunts and uneasy stares from them.

Sounds of activities without drifted to him. There seemed to be considerable movement of troops past the tent, all in one direction. Although he was not certain in which direction Svergad lay, Robert knew that they were in all probability moving back to the attack, now that the menace of the _Sphere_ was removed. He wondered dully what had happened to Taggert.

He was just shifting his position for about the fifty-first time when the flap of the tent was raised and the pompous officer of the morning’s encounter stepped in, followed by two fellow officers. The guards came to attention stiffly.

The pompous officer scowled ominously. Plainly he intended dealing with Robert as severely as possible. He strode over to him.

“Well, how does it feel to be in chains, my vicious friend?” he rasped.

“Quite all right, you old toad,” Robert answered pleasantly in English.

“What?”

“I said, ‘Quite comfortable, old chap,’” said Robert, this time in the Martian tongue, interestedly surveying a discolored lump on his captor’s right jaw where he had landed his fist that morning.

The officer’s face went dark with passion. He raised his cane as if to strike Robert. Before he could do so, however, Robert jerked up his stool to protect himself. Simultaneously the two guards sprang forward to protect their superior. But the latter’s courage failed him at the menace of the stool and he let his hand with the cane fall to his side. He contented himself for the time with a murderous look at Robert, who put the chair down, but remained standing for greater freedom of action. The guards fell back, visibly relieved.

“You shall be handled later, sir,” barked the officer. “Meanwhile, do you know the fate in store for your friends?”

“The privilege of beating hell out of your rotten army,” Robert shot back at him. He could have sworn that he saw a brief flicker of amusement in one of the other officer’s eyes as he said this.

Once more the angry officer seemed on the verge of striking Robert, but his eyes fastened upon the stool and he changed his mind. He controlled himself with an effort.

“Another day and you will change your song,” he managed to sputter. “Until then _you_ will have the ‘privilege’ of reflecting here in comfort, while a suitable punishment is devised to repay you for your destruction of our men!”

With that he turned and stamped out of the tent, followed by the other officers.

The two guards viewed Robert with evident awe after this interview. Clearly they were unused to hearing their high officers abused so roundly and carelessly. Perhaps they were saying to themselves something to the effect that this Earth-being must be _some_ guy.

Their one-cylinder brains were further startled here by Robert’s tumbling the dreaded stool over, preparatory to reclining upon the sandy floor. They exchanged glances uneasily. One of them started as if to object, then seemed to think better of it, relapsing again into a stupid dumbness.

The afternoon sun was well down in the sky when the curious sound of distant firing of the Martians’ _hilwai_ came to Robert’s ears--the first he had heard since his capture. His heart sank as he considered the probable result of the bitter struggle which it heralded. If only that confounded engine had not failed them at the critical moment!

The sounds of battle continued until after sunset, when his guards were relieved by two others whose intelligence and curiosity appeared to be about on a par with those of the first two. One of them possessed a rather remarkable, rudderlike nose which fascinated and diverted Robert for a time, to its owner’s evident discomfiture.

Somehow Robert managed to pass the night in troubled dozing on his hard bed of sand, tormented by anxious thoughts of Zola. He welcomed the first flush of dawn with thanksgiving, despite his weariness. The sound of firing was resumed about this time.

* * * * *

Shortly after his breakfast Robert was visited by Kharnov.

The ruler’s crafty features were disfigured with a scowl. He entered the tent alone, commanding his escort to remain outside.

“You have returned hostility for hospitality, and the penalty shall be death,” he said.

His tones fell with deadly precision, like the pronouncement of a sentence by a criminal judge. An involuntary chill swept over Robert in spite of his effort to appear unmoved.

“I was but protecting a helpless girl from your unwelcome attentions,” he replied, ashamed that he could control the nervousness in his voice only by a great effort. “That you have chosen to pursue her with an army to be resisted is your own folly.”

“I am not here to discuss fine points with you, sir,” returned the emperor sharply, “but to offer you a means of saving your life. You shifted your loyalty once; you can do it again. Aid my army with the _Sphere_ and you may return to your planet in peace. Refuse and suffer the consequences!”

“My loyalty was and is only to the right,” retorted Robert. “Your proposition doesn’t interest me.”

He almost forgot his personal fear as he realized with a thrill that Kharnov’s latest attack must have been successfully repulsed or he would not have made this offer.

“Beware! I am offering you your life.”

“I don’t care to buy it at that price.”

The emperor was patently more perplexed than angered by Robert’s rejection of his terms. His code did not permit of an understanding of anyone’s refusal of life for principle. He was concerned merely in deciding just what concession it was necessary to hold out to Robert in order to secure his acquiescence. A crafty thought occurred to him.

“You will also be given as many of the diamonds, so highly valued on your planet, as you can take with you. Does that interest you? Of course, I should require that two or three of my men accompany you while you were operating against the government’s enemies.”

An inspiration came to Robert. Once he got the _Sphere_ in midair again--three or a dozen Martians--he might frighten them into submission and land within the city. It was worth trying anyway, and, if it failed, they could but take his life, which it seemed certain he would lose anyway if he flatly refused the emperor’s demand.

“You have the advantage of me,” he said finally. “I accept your terms. But my friend must accompany me to assist in the operation of the _Sphere_.”

“One of my men will assist you after you have instructed him. Your friend must remain a hostage till you have carried out your part of the contract. No harm shall come to him unless you fail.”

This put the matter in a different light. Here was an obstacle that would require real diplomacy to hurdle.

“I fear your man can not learn quickly enough, but I’ll try to teach him,” said Robert, hoping to find some solution later. “However, the _Sphere_ can not be operated until I have discovered and corrected some defect in its machinery.”

“Ah, so that explains your strange landing.”

“Exactly.”

Kharnov pondered a moment.

“Very well,” he resumed. “I shall select the men to accompany you and return later. Meanwhile I will see that you are made more comfortable here.”

A sinister smile played over his face as he turned to go, giving Robert a feeling of unknown, impending evil.

True to Kharnov’s promise, however, the tent promptly was equipped with various comforts, including a couch, table and chair, and other welcome additions. Good food and excellent wines also were brought him.

The soft couch and soothing wine, after his night of sleeplessness, produced a pleasant drowziness which Robert found difficult to resist. He slept, and it was dusk when he awoke.

* * * * *

The distant sounds of battle had ceased again. Dinner was brought to him and two hours passed without further word from Kharnov. Once more drowziness overtook Robert and he dozed. His two guards, who had so far watched him with eyes of hawks, relaxed their vigilance somewhat. They envied him his privilege of sleeping.

“Brother,” said Rudderbeak, finally, “it is not necessary that two of us watch over this sleeper. Let us decide by chance which of us may rest also.”

“Words of wisdom, indeed. Let us do so by all means.”

Fate decided against Rudderbeak. The pebble which he cast at the line drawn on the sand in the tent rolled a trifle too far. So, grumblingly, he took up the long night watch while his companion stretched out upon the floor with a sigh of contentment. He was to be warned in ample time at the approach of anyone.

Here fate again took a hand. Rudderbeak found standing too great an effort with two peacefully slumbering beings before him. He felt that he was at least entitled to the luxury of sitting down. So he availed himself of the comfortable chair so lately brought in for their captive.

The chair creaked as he settled his weight in it. Had it not been for this, another sound just outside the tent might have attracted his attention. Even as he stretched his long legs in extravagant comfort a shadow without flattened itself upon the ground.

A little while after that Robert woke abruptly to see a face within a few inches of his. The lantern suspended in the tent top cast weird shadows around the enclosure, giving the features of the countenance above his a horrible aspect. An involuntary cry arose in his throat, but was suddenly checked. For there was a strange familiarity about the glint of red in the intruder’s hair! The shadow-blurred features quickly lost their ferocity. It was Taggert.

Their hands met in a clasp of glad reunion. No word passed between them as Taggert proceeded to examine the length of chain with which Robert was fastened. He shook his head as he saw the heavy links.

Robert saw his mouth straighten into a firm, hard line as he stared at the sleeping guards. He removed the gun from the side of the sitting guard. Then, drawing an object from his pocket, he walked over to where Rudderbeak lay. He hesitated.

“Got to be done,” he muttered. Raising his arm he brought the object down upon the slumbering guard’s head forcibly. The Martian slumped deeper into his chair. His gun slipped to the sand. Stooping quickly, Taggert picked up the fallen gun, retaining it and handing Robert his automatic. The other guard, stretched upon the ground, had not stirred yet.

Deftly Taggert searched the stunned guard. But the key he was looking for was not in the Martian’s possession. He turned his attention to the other guard, who still slumbered. As Taggert meditated, the sleeping guard stirred uneasily. In spite of the reporter’s efforts to avoid noise the disturbance had evidently been sufficient to break into the sleeping guard’s subconscious mind. He opened his eyes suddenly, looking directly at Taggert.

Before the Martian could, gather his senses, however, Taggert pressed the _lahan_ against his chest.

“Not a sound!” he commanded in the Martian tongue. “Now give me the key to this anklet--quick.”

The Martian was wide awake enough to realize his helplessness. He promptly pulled the desired key out of his pocket and handed it to Taggert.

Robert covered the Martian with the automatic while Taggert fitted the key to the anklet. A moment later he was free.

They were now faced by the problem of binding and gagging the conscious Martian. No rope was available within the tent.

“His shirt,” suggested Robert, following his inspiration by pulling the garment off the now completely cowed Martian.

Swiftly they bound, gagged and blindfolded him, the twisted arms of the shirt making fair substitutes for cord, though there was not enough to bind him as thoroughly as they wished. They locked the anklet upon him after shortening the chain by twisting and knotting it round the big center-pole. The unconscious Martian they left as he was.

Warning the bound Martian with dire threats, they slipped out of the tent into the night.

Had Phobus been shining then they would surely have been seen at once; but the little Martian moon had set an hour past. Creeping painfully past the clustered tents they came at last to the edge of the camp, which, fortunately, was not a great distance away.

Here it was necessary for them to pass the pickets. The brilliant starlight and level, open desert made their escape extremely difficult. How far apart the pickets were stationed they did not know, but one paced slowly across a stretch just ahead of where they lay partly concealed in a slight depression or wave in the desert’s floor.

Cautiously they wormed forward to another shallow depression while the near-by sentry’s back was turned. Here they waited anxiously as he paced back and again turned away. One thing in their favor for the present was that the sentry directed his attention chiefly in the opposite direction, toward the city. That would become their disadvantage, however, when once they succeeded in getting past the sentries and between them and the city.

No sooner had the sentry turned his back again than they were scrambling feverishly toward a distant, faint strip of shadow, which indicated their next scanty haven of temporary safety. Their arms and knees were weary to the point of exhaustion; but they pressed on desperately. Still the little line of shadow ahead seemed far away. Would they make it before the sentry turned and discovered them? Surely he would notice the track where they had pawed their way through the loose sand.