WITH Bevans at the helm and Roger Sanders in command, the mighty interplanetary battleship which was the child of Ted Dustin’s fertile brain, took off from Chicago just four days after Roger’s radio conversation with Maza, and one day before his appointment with her in Peilong.
Buildings, housetops and thoroughfares were packed with millions of people with every conceivable eye-aid from opera glasses to telescopes, tensely awaiting the departure of the “Luna”—for such she had been christened.
She was only two hundred feet in length—smaller than the mighty aerial battleships of the United States Navy. But despite her relative smallness, she could easily have wiped out, in a few minutes, the entire fleet of a hundred great aerial battleships which formed a cordon around Ted’s plant, to see her off, and to fire parting salvoes. The air about this mighty fleet swarmed with every conceivable type of air craft from the small helicopter taxicabs to huge passenger ships.
Escorted by this stupendous array of air craft, the Luna soared gracefully upward to a height of ten miles—the utmost distance to which any of the other craft could follow her—then shot toward the zenith which such speed that in less than a minute she was lost to the view of the beholders.
Built for warfare of a type never previously contemplated by men of earth, she was a marvel of mechanical perfection and offensive and defensive efficiency. Her powerful atomotor could send her through space at a speed far greater than that attained by any of the planets in circling the sun—a speed so swift that no human eye could follow her movements.
She had two sets of degravitors—one for offensive and the other for defensive purposes. Each of the four central turrets above deck mounted four cannon-like degravitors that would disintegrate the toughest steel up to a distance of twenty-five thousand miles, and other substances at lesser or greater distances according to their various cohesive powers. The two end turrets, fore and aft, each mounted six degravitors of the same size and power as the others, and midway between keel and rail each side of the craft bristled with twelve more of these potent projectors of destruction, which were in movable, ball-in-socket mounts, capable of being pointed in any direction.
The defensive degravitors were much smaller and shorter than those to be used for offense, and instead of being pointed at the ends had short barrels and flaring blunderbuss-like muzzles. Instead of projecting their anode and cathode rays in nearly parallel lines, these weapons shot them out at widely diverging angles—scattered them so much that, placed as they were, their various rays united to form an invisible screen about the craft, impervious either to matter, light rays, or energy rays. When they were turned on the craft could have passed through a rapidly moving planetoid or even a planet without great shock, or danger either from heat, cold, or gravitational force. Sunlight, when striking them, was neither reflected nor absorbed, but converted into a white, innocuous luminescence, electrically and magnetically neutral, yet visible and transparent—a physical paradox that seemed like a ghost of real light.
With these rays turned on, projectiles fired at the craft would be disintegrated before they could reach it. Concentrated rays of either contraction or dispersion, cold or hot, would be rendered harmless, even though they might be admitted in the form of mild, ghostly light.
Sitting in the control cabin in the front of the craft, Roger watched the earth swiftly receding while Bevans, seated before a bewildering array of levers and buttons sent the craft hurtling swiftly toward the moon. The thick glass panels afforded a view upward, downward, straight ahead, and to either side, and mirrors connected with periscopes gave a clear view to the rear.
“This baby sure can step,” remarked Roger, glancing at his speedometer. “Thirty-five miles per second on the head at this instant.”
“She can that, sir,” replied Bevans, “and I haven’t opened her up all the way, either.”
“A hundred and twenty-six thousand miles per hour.” calculated Roger, “and still accelerating. Why man, we’ll be there in a couple of hours at this rate—a day ahead of time! It’s all right, though. We can hide out in some crater, do a little exploring, get accustomed to the Lunar gravity and have target practice with the degravitors. We’ll need it if P’an-ku sends a bunch of those fighting globes of his after us.”
Presently Roger looked out the forward window, then said:
“We’re getting pretty close to the moon, now. Start easing her down while I decide on a landing place. Better not go too close to Copernicus today. Too near the scene of activities. We might get into a scrap before our allies get there. On the other hand, if we land at Tycho we may be mistaken for enemies and have to fight Maza’s guards. I think the wise thing to do will be to land on the central peak of the crater Pitatus. It’s sort of in line between Tycho and Copernicus, and far enough from the latter so we would not be involved in a battle before we’re ready. We can keep a sharp lookout, and duck down into that deep valley between Pitatus and Hesiodus if we don’t care to fight an approaching enemy.”
Bevans, who had memorized the outstanding features of the moon, instantly pointed the craft toward Pitatus while he gradually slowed her headway with blasts from the forward exhaust arms of the atomotor.
In less than two hours after they left Chicago, they landed in a slight depression on the sharp central peak of Pitatus.
The rest of the day was spent in degravitor practice, and in preparation for the morrow’s battle. So far as light was concerned, the night was exactly like the day, nevertheless, officers and crew took their turns at sleeping and watching.
It was nearly noon of the next day by their earthly chronometers when Roger, who was about to give orders for the flight to Copernicus, was startled by a call from a lookout in one of the turrets. The voice of the man came from a small electric speaker at his elbow.
“A big fleet of globes coming from the northeast, sir.”
Roger took up his binoculars and trained them toward the northeast.
“Must be at least a hundred of them,” he said to Bevans, “and they’re coming at quite a lively clip. Too late to try and dodge out of sight now. I think the best plan is to keep perfectly still. Moving objects catch the eye much quicker than stationary ones.”
“I don’t believe they’ll notice us here, at all, sir,” answered
Bevans, using his own glasses. “Looks as if they are going to pass right over the center of Hesiodus, in which case they’ll miss us by about forty-five miles.”
The globes were traveling with such speed that it took but a minute for them to confirm Bevans’ assertion, which they did, almost to a mile, continuing on toward the southwest.
“Wonder what they’re up to,” mused Roger. “They seem to be heading straight toward Tycho. Why, it’s plain as day. They’re sneaking over to attack Maza’s capital from above ground while she’s attacking theirs from below. Mighty clever of old P’an-ku. Well, here’s where our little Luna gets busy.”
He gave a few brief orders, and the Luna gently rose from her resting place and set out after the menacing fleet. As soon as he got near enough to Tycho to use his binoculars, Roger saw that the battle was already in progress. Red rays were flashing out at the invaders from the crater walls and central peaks, and nak-kar riders swarmed upward from the underground shafts like bees from a hive. The raiders had formed in a huge circle sixty miles in diameter, just outside the crater rim, and were pouring their powerful green rays in on the defenders with deadly effect. Roger saw two of the globes burst into flames and fall, but during that time more than a score of the stationary rays were put out of business, and hundreds of nak-kar riders were wiped out.
The fleet of P’an-ku was easily slated for a quick victory before the Luna suddenly entered the lists. Then the degravitors went into action, and the menacing globes began dropping right and left, emitting lurid flashes of light where the invisible rays struck them. Before a green ray could even be trained toward the Luna half of the magnificent war fleet of P’an-ku had been destroyed. Then the green rays carne thick and fast, but Roger did not mind them, for his degravitor barrage made them as harmless as sunlight.
Not more than a dozen of the globes remained when the commander of the fleet evidently discovered that his rays could not harm the strange craft from earth, and that his only chance for safety would be in flight. These remaining globes shot swiftly upward—so swiftly that it was difficult for the eye to note their progress, but the Luna was after them in an instant, and kept them well in range while her marksmen used the degravitors with deadly effect. Soon but one lone globe remained. It seemed to have an especially clever helmsman, who dodged hither and thither with such speed and in such unexpected ways that he had been able to elude the Luna’s gunners. He suddenly set out in a zigzag course toward Copernicus, with the Luna in swift pursuit. A degravitor ray brought him down inside the crater just after he had crossed the rim and was ready to drop to safety.
Bevans was unable to instantly check the forward flight of the Luna, and her momentum carried her ten miles past the crater rim and only a little over fifteen miles from the nearest central peak. Hundreds of powerful green rays instantly flashed up at the invader, and giant globes swarmed upward from the yawning mouths of mighty shafts, to attack. The globes were cut down by Roger’s marksmen almost as fast as they emerged, and the green rays did no damage.
Then there suddenly flashed from the second peak of the central group, a mighty green ray so powerful it would easily have made a thousand of the smaller defensive rays. It was pointed straight upward at the earth hanging in the heavens above them, and the spot where it struck—apparently some five hundred miles in diameter, plainly showed as a great greenish-white area in the Pacific Ocean when, a moment later, the ray winked out.
The operators evidently had stopped for a moment to note its effect—perhaps to send a radio message to earth demanding instant surrender or threatening annihilation.
“Turn the degravitors on the peak of that mountain,” ordered Roger. “The globes can wait. We’ll get them later.”
Before his instructions could be carried out it seemed that the ray operator had anticipated them, for the huge green ray flashed out once more, but this time it did not strike the earth. Instead, its powerful, deadly green light enveloped the Luna.
Although the earth-craft was insulated against the cold of absolute zero, and was, in addition, protected by her aura of degravitor rays, she could not help feeling the tremendous power of the terrific de-energizing rays. In an instant her interior temperature, which had been kept comfortably warm at 70 degrees Fahrenheit, dropped to the freezing point and rapidly went lower.
“Up,” ordered Roger, and Bevans shot the craft upward, temporarily escaping the paralyzing effect of the great ray. But the projector could be turned swiftly, and in a moment it was trained on them again. It was now the turn of the Luna to do some zig-zagging and dodging. As for her offensive tactics, Roger found that his degravitor rays were rendered harmless when in conflict with the rays from the great projector, and only took effect at times when they could, for a moment, elude the huge green beam which came from the mountain top.
“We can’t keep this up,” said Roger, as the cabin grew colder and colder. “Try diving toward the base of the mountain, then up beneath the projector. I don’t believe it can be pointed towards its own base, and P’an-ku will destroy his own city if he points it downward too far.”
Bevans instantly dropped the craft to within a hundred feet of the crater floor, then shot toward the base of the peak on which the ray was mounted. The mighty green ray followed them down so far it clipped a great valley through the crater wall behind them, but it could go no further.
“Now!” said Roger, “Let them have it!”
The degravitors were instantly trained on the mountain peak while the craft shot swiftly upward.