Chapter III

Artana awakened them as he had promised. His first words were of the widowed Queen. "Boada is here," he told Ross. "She has slept, and will greet you after you have eaten."

They breakfasted in the chamber, on food that Artana had commandeered from the rocket ship, with some of the pale, delicious Moon pears beside the familiar Earth fare. Artana talked fast as the two Earth-men ate.

"Two of the Cavern men came in with the Queen." As the two flyers looked up in plain surprise, he smiled. "Yes, they were Horta's men. But they say they do not wish to serve him longer. They say he plans to rule the Moon Kingdom alone, and will make war with the Earth."

The two leaned forward, food forgotten. "Did they say," asked Ross, "how Horta plans to make war? With what weapons?"

Artana shook his head sadly. "They deny all knowledge of such things. They are star savants, and they say all Horta's war secrets are known only to his war chiefs."

The flyers' disappointment impelled Artana to go on. "They do say that Horta and most of his forces are gathered in the Great Cavern, where all his secrets are kept. And that, too, is where he has set up his ray machines."

Ross narrowed his eyes. "The Great Cavern, eh? Well, that's what we'll have a shot at."

"You would have me accompany you?" Artana asked eagerly.

"Ah, no, Artana. You are needed here. What if Horta were to make a sudden attack? You must give us a guide, though, to show us the Great Cavern. And I will leave my chief signalman, Jorgens, so that we may keep in touch with you."

Artana assented, somewhat cast down. Truly, the Great Cavern held a secret, and the Lord of the Peaks was as eager as any to learn it. But he regained his cheerfulness as they sought out the Queen.

She was in the great chamber where Artana had first received the Earth-men. Erect and haughty, she sat on the central divan, regarding them with brooding eyes as they entered. So much Ross saw before his glance went to the slim figure beside her. He caught his breath.

A dream! A goddess! This girl--ah, yes, the Princess Illeria. But a woman now! Not the scrawny girl of five years ago. Ross tore his eyes from her with a jerk. Artana was presenting him to the Queen Widow.

"--Commander Ross, leader of the Earth-fleet, was a visitor at court five years ago," Artana reminded the Queen.

She extended her hand, surveying him with a softening of her austere expression. As he bent over it she said in a harsh voice that was obviously held steady with an effort, "Commander Ross, you come at an unhappy time."

Ross murmured condolences, then plunged into the subject that was filling him with impatience. "I seek permission from you, Queen, and from the Lord Artana to fly over the Caverns and report on conditions there."

Queen Boada darted a sharp glance at Artana, then averted her head. "I see no occasion for such a flight," she said curtly.

Artana stepped forward. "A rebellion, O Queen? Surely that is occasion enough?"

She met his eyes, frowning. "But these are not our people."

"Yet," argued Artana, "the Earth people are at peace with us."

Ross saw the Princess regarding her mother curiously. Moore, too, was staring in frank astonishment at the Queen. As she sensed their intent regard she relaxed her rigid pose. "Oh, very well. But there shall be no fighting?"

"None, O Queen," Ross hastened to say.

Artana nodded with satisfaction. "There remains, then, the finding of a guide for the fleet. I could send Calisto--"

The Princess spoke for the first time. "Calisto has not the gift of the Earth-tongue. Who guides the Commander Ross must speak the tongue he knows best."

"That's true," muttered Artana, taken aback. "Who, then--"

* * * * *

The Princess was looking at Ross. Almost hostilely, he thought confusedly. Had she resented his long open stare? She was such a picture, clad in only a single filmy garment, caught at the waist with a gold twisted belt and cut tunic-like at the knee. Bare-armed, with softly swelling contours and a skin like peach down, she was an entrancing sight.

His confused thoughts were set at rest. The Princess had a plan. "I shall go with the Commander Ross," she said.

The Queen turned sharply. Artana scowled. "No, no!" he cried sharply. "If there should be fighting--"

"Fighting?" echoed Boada in a whip-like tone.

"No, no, not fighting," Artana hastened to correct himself. "But danger, perhaps."

Boada's brooding gaze came to rest inquiringly on Ross.

"There can be no danger, I think," he assured her. And wondered why he did so. For if Horta was on the war path, surely the Earth ships would be his targets.

He felt his heart beat faster as he considered the possibility of this amazing girl standing beside him in the control room of his flagship, then a moment of depression as he reflected that the queen would refuse her consent. But to his surprise Boada, after one dark look at the Lord of the Peaks, nodded.

They left at once. There was a moment of delay when Illeria, given an oxygen helmet, demurred at the idea of wearing it until she was convinced that it would save her life if the shell of the rocket ship were pierced in the upper air. She wore it with ease, the straps fitting snugly over the flowing golden locks and the oxygen tubes crossing her face to add to the piquant enigmatic look she wore.

The flagship took off with a rush, the six following ships keeping their distance. Once in the air, they formed the echelon. Then Ross turned to the princess, and led her to the telescopes trained through the floor of the ship.

She studied the crater surfaces wonderingly, like a child with a strange toy. Then she remembered her duty. "Sail there," she directed, pointing.

Amusedly, Ross gave the order. Privately Artana had given him a full description of the Great Cavern, so that once he had sighted it he could map his own course. But the girl had guided him truly. In a few minutes the yawning chasm lay on their bow.

He called Moore. "All the cameras set?"

"All set," grunted Moore, squinting through a glass. "Going to skirt the cavern?"

Ross nodded. "No use tipping Horta off at the outset. We may get a good look without his knowing we're here."

As the last word left his lips a cry from the port lookout froze the three in their places. They turned, fearfully. The lookout's face was working. As they watched, tears began to stream down his face. He tried to speak, but he could only point.

Ross sprang to the window. The sky was clear, save for the following ships. Number Two, and Four, and Five. Six? Where was Six? And Seven? He whirled on the lookout.

The man gulped, drew a deep breath, and said huskily, "There was a flash, sir, and--and then--nothing! Nothing, where Number Seven was flying! And then Number Six--went the same way!"

Ross and Moore stared frantically at one another. Then Ross sprang to the signal post. "Jorgens! Where's Jorgens?"

A white-faced signalman spoke up. "He's back at Peak Four, sir."

"Oh, yes." Ross in his agitation had forgotten. "Well, signal Ships Two, Three, Four and Five to sheer off the Cavern and return to Peak Four!"

The man sprang to obey. Ross turned to order the course changed. But the crashing din that followed silenced him. His body hurtled against the stanchion, and suddenly he found his arms about the Princess Illeria.

* * * * *

Her body was soft to his touch, her silky hair caressed his cheek, her breath sweet on his face. But he pushed her aside, and cried out to the helmsman, "How does she fly?"

The helmsman, craning his neck as he curled an arm about the wheel, shouted back, "On even keel, sir, but she won't steer!"

Ross pushed the Princess unceremoniously from him and stood erect. He rushed to the window and saw with relief that the ship was circling away from the Crater. Gauges showed that the ship flew steady except for that odd circling. An artisan, bursting into the control room from the after gun station, explained the mystery.

"One rudder flange haywire, sir!"

"So that's it!" Ross spoke calmly. "Shot away?"

The man's face worked. "Burned away, sir!"

"Burned--" Ross thought fast. He nodded to the artisan, who departed with a scared look about.

Moore had heard the report. He whistled. "Burned away, huh? Sounds like a B-ray."

"B-ray? What's that?" snapped Ross.

"B for blue," explained Moore affably. "Horta's draining the blue stars, or I'm no Harvard man."

Ross eyed the navigator narrowly. "You really think that?"

"What else?" countered Moore calmly. "Horta was a washout on the R-ray--and besides, our red ray doesn't burn like that. I think Horta's got something."

Ross turned to the helmsman, then studied the chart that Artana had provided. "We can circle just like this, and make Peak Four if we can cut that drag a bit. Try reducing the speed."

It worked. At reduced speed the ship flew more truly, with less pressure on the rudder. Ross sighed in relief. "Keep her there." He spied the Princess leaning against the stanchion, and walked over. "Quite a scare, wasn't it?"

She regarded him steadily. "You do not like me?"

He gaped at her. "Why do you say that?"

"You pushed me away from you."

"Oh, that!" Ross was nettled. "A man must fight his ship, Princess."

"Yes." She nodded agreement. "But I was afraid. I thought we were doomed. And I wished you to be with me. It is not given to every woman to die with the man of her choice. And you are the man I wish for."

Ross stared open-mouthed. "Say-ay!" he asked cautiously. "You didn't get a knock on the head, did you?"

She shook her head unsmilingly. "The Earth-girls, they do not speak so to men?"

"I'll say they don't," Ross assured her feelingly.

"Oh!" said the Princess Illeria in a small voice.

Ross didn't know what to say then. "Well," he exclaimed, "we'll soon be back at Peak Four."

He was right. But grim news awaited them at the peak.