Maza of the Moon

12

Aerial Battle

Otis Adelbert Kline


AS Roger Sanders plunged downward from the sky, the fragments of Ted’s shattered Blettendorf dropping around him, the three strange globes that had wrought such swift destruction with their green rays in so short a time, disappeared from view in a blinding whirl of cloud and snow. His parachute was whipped about by the force of the wind until he feared the lashings would be torn loose, but they held, and he presently landed, waist deep, in a snow drift.

He was floundering about, endeavoring to extricate himself from the clutches of the wet, sticky mess, when suddenly he heard his name called:

“Mr. Sanders.”

He answered, and a moment later a figure shuffled toward him and helped him from the drift. It was Bevans.

“Didn’t fall in as deeply as you, sir,” he said. “Landed in the middle of the road, while you went in the ditch. I’ve been walking along, calling your name in the hope of locating you.”

“Did you notice where the professor fell?”

“Yes, sir. He leaped before I did, and I saw him fall on the bridge of that strange globe. He tried to jump off again, but one of those diamond-shaped port holes opened, and he was dragged inside. I suppose they slaughtered him. A horrible ending for one of the greatest minds of the century.”

“Awful,” replied Roger. “Ted will be broken up when he hears it—that is if he lives to hear it. But we can’t help things any by crying about them. Any idea where we are?”

“I should say we’re somewhere in Indiana, sir, and not far from a flying field. Have you noticed the flashes of light and dark in the snow above us at regular intervals? Must be from a beacon.”

“Well, let’s see if we can find out.”

Guided by the dimly seen flashes, the two at length found themselves at the airdrome of the South Bend Flying Field a government training station for student aviators since the advent of planes equipped to rise or descend vertically, and the consequent ability of experienced pilots to land “on a dime”:

Ridding themselves of a considerable weight of sticky snow by brushing each other, they entered the building, where a watchman, with a huge, foul smelling cob pipe in his mouth, was playing a game of solitaire.

Spying a radiovisiphone, Roger was hurrying toward it to make his report while Bevans explained things to the watchman, when the figure of a man in military uniform suddenly appeared in the disc. He read from a sheet of paper held in his hand:

M. O. 318,246

Three flying globes sighted by U. S. S. P’s 347, 1098 and 221. 347 destroyed by strange green ray from one of the globes. 1098 and 221 shelling them without apparent effect when their radios were silenced. All combat planes in Zone 36 are ordered to report, fully manned, to division headquarters, and stand by for orders.

General J. Q. Marshall.

“Oh, boy! There’ll be some scrap, now!” said Roger, “but I’m afraid our planes won’t stand much chance against those green rays. I’d like to be in on it, though.”

“I, too, sir,” said Bevans.

Roger rapidly whirled the dials of the radiovisiphone, presently obtaining direct communication with President Whitmore, to whom he made his report. He was ordered back to Chicago at once, a plane being requisitioned from the flying field for the purpose.

As he and Bevans were about to take off they noticed six combat planes, manned and waiting orders. These rose only a few seconds after they did.

The air was now much warmer, the snow having been replaced by a faint drizzle of rain. This, too, subsided before they had flown half way to their destination, but a heavy fog, following the swift melting of the snow, made the visibility exceedingly low.

Despite this handicap, however, the skillful Bevans landed his plane neatly on the roof of the Dustin Building, turning it over to another of Ted’s pilots to be returned immediately to the flying field.

The cold weather had passed as quickly as it had come, and this fact added to the evidence that it had been directly produced by the giant green ray from the moon.

Back in his office, Roger quickly communicated with his wife by wrist radiophone—then waded into the mass of work which had accumulated during his absence. According to the shop reports the great interplanetary vehicle would soon be ready for launching. But fully as important as this, he found that ten thousand pistol degravitors and a thousand large degravitors for use on combat planes were completed and ready to be loaded with the special anode-cathode ray batteries in process in another division. Turning to the report of the superintendent of the battery division, he found that a hundred of the large and five hundred of the small batteries were ready for use.

Going to the safe, he took out the directions for assembling and firing which Ted had left, and after giving them a careful reading, ordered ten of the large and a hundred of the small weapons and an equal number of suitable anode-cathode batteries sent up to his office.

Morning came before he had completed his work of assembling them. Then, carrying a large and a small degravitor to the roof, he tested them on the remains of Ted’s metal hangar and found that they worked satisfactorily.

Hurrying back to his office he set the safety catch on every weapon then ordered them packed and loaded into one of Ted’s freight-carrying electroplanes. And hour later, with Bevans as pilot, he was on his way to Washington.

As he neared the capital he used his binoculars on the surrounding territory, and noticed the havoc wrought by the green rays. At points where the effects of the rays had ended, rivers and creeks were blocked by ice gorges, overflowing the surrounding territory. The vegetation was wilted and lifeless, as if blighted by a heavy frost. In the villages and towns, Red Cross workers were going from house to house, relieving the sufferings of the survivors, followed by undertakers’ cars and large trucks, loaded with the canvas-wrapped remains of those who would suffer no more.

On his arrival at the Capitol he sought and gained an immediate interview with the President.

The chief executive of the country looked up from the stack of papers on his desk as Roger entered, and greeted him with:

“Now, what the devil are you doing here? I thought I ordered you back to Chicago last night. Who is going to look after your plant and radio station with both you and Dustin away?”

“Important business,” replied Roger. “I’ll be leaving for Chicago again within the hour, but I’ve something to show you that, for the present, I don’t dare make public over the air.”

“What about your code? Afraid someone will figure them out?”

“Not at all, but this is something you will have to be shown. I have some new weapons invented by Mr. Dustin, a few of which have been manufactured in his plant under my direction during his absence—weapons with which I believe we can successfully combat the green rays of the moon men.”

“Where are they?”

“In one of our freight carriers, now on the roof of the Lincoln Hotel under guard.”

Without waiting to hear more, President Whitmore seized his hat and said:

“We’ll have a look at them right now.”

On the way out he gave orders that Secretary of War Jamison and General Marshall meet him on the roof of the Lincoln in fifteen minutes. Once out of the Capitol, they were quickly transported to the hotel roof in the President’s private helicopter limousine.

Roger brought out one of the pistol degravitors, unwrapped it, and explained its use to the chief executive. Then he had an old propeller blade suspended on a wire, and proceeded to demolish it before the eyes of the astonished President.

At this moment Secretary Jamison and General Marshall arrived, and another old blade was disintegrated for their benefit.

Secretary Jamison, a newly appointed civilian, showed wonder and amazement, but General Marshall seemed unconvinced.

“What is the effective range of this weapon?” he asked.

“The theoretical range of this one,” replied Roger, “as worked out by Mr. Dustin, is one mile. In other words, it is supposed to completely disintegrate any known matter of any possible hardness or tensile strength, up to that distance. Beyond that distance, however, it would be deadly to man or animals, even though it should not completely destroy their bodies, up to a distance of perhaps two miles. I have with me, also, weapons constructed on the same principle, but much larger, with a theoretical range of twenty-five miles.”

“Have the weapons been tested at the ranges you name?”

“Not to my knowledge, but when Mr. Dustin figures something out it is usually right.”

“I would respectfully suggest, Mr. President,” said the General, stiffly, “that they be so tested.”

“And I was about to suggest the same thing,” rejoined Roger.

“We’ll make the tests at once,” decided the President. “While the General is arranging for the aerial targets you may get out one of the larger weapons, Mr. Sanders.”

Fifteen minutes later, Roger and the President were hovering on the shore of Chesapeake Bay in the latter’s helicopter limousine. Several hundred feet above the General and the Secretary of War hovered in a government plane, while one of their men directed the four aerial targets, miniature helicopter planes controlled by radio.

When one of them had flown a distance of a mile out over the bay the General signaled Roger who promptly brought it down with his pistol degravitor. A second, placed two miles away, presently crumpled and fell, although it withstood about five minutes’ exposure to the rays of the small weapon at that distance.

Then Roger mounted his large degravitor on a tripod, and with the assistance of his powerful field glasses, brought down one of the targets which meanwhile bad been stationed at a distance of twenty-five miles up the bay. The fourth target, placed thirty-five miles away, which was as far as he could see it with his glasses, suffered a similar fate after only a few seconds exposure to the rays.

“Marvelous!” commented the President, as they winged their way back to the Capitol. “How many of these degravitors are ready for use?”

“I brought ten of the large and a hundred of the small ones with me,” replied Roger. “Within the week I can send you ninety more of the large and four hundred of the small.”

“And how fast can you turn them out after that?”

“We are equipped to turn out five hundred small and one hundred large a week. If more are required we can enlarge our capacity at any time.”

“Let the order stand on the weekly basis you mention, then,” said the President as they got out of the limousine, “unless I send you word to increase it.”

They returned once more to the President’s office, where he was immediately signaled by the radiovisiphone operator.

“World News Broadcasters on the air will announce important tidings from China in one minute. Shall I tune them in, sir?”

“Yes,” replied the President, seating himself at his desk and watching the disc.

A picture of the World News Announcer quickly flashed on the screen, and he stood looking at them for a moment, holding his chronometer in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other. Then he said:

“Our correspondent in Peiping announces that the three strange globes from the moon, which destroyed three scout planes with their green rays last night and then disappeared, arrived in Peiping this morning.

“A dozen of the queer, round-bodied men immediately went into conference with the Chinese president and his cabinet. As soon, however, as the odd visitors had been described to the Chinese people, and, of course, seen by many of them, and it became generally known that the government purposed submitting to the rule of the moon government and assisting the lunar emperor to conquer the earth, a revolution was fomented and the Capitol attacked.

“The Chinese president and the members of his cabinet were all slain in the battle that followed, as were the twelve moon men closeted with them. After laying waste the greater part of the city, and killing hundreds of thousands with their green rays, the globes then departed, flying eastward. They were last sighted flying high over southern Japan with terrific speed, apparently bound for the United States.

“General Fu Yen, the revolutionary leader and new provisional president, announces his intention to stand by the other nations of the world in the war with the moon, and will shortly send official messages to the other powers to that effect. It is believed that he is supported in this decision by at least ninety percent of the Chinese people.

“One of his first official acts was to place Dr. Fang, the Manchu, under arrest as an instigator of the plot to sell out the nation to the moon monarch, Dr. Wu, his co-conspirator, having been slain with the former president and cabinet members during the attack on the Capitol.”

“Interesting, and vastly relieving, if true,” commented the President, “so far as the Chinese are concerned. But we still have those flying globes to contend with. They are on their way over here now, and nobody knows how fast they can travel. I think you brought out the new weapons in the nick of time, Mr. Sanders. Would you care to direct a combat squadron sent out to meet our belligerent visitors?”

“I’d be delighted with the honor,” replied Roger.

“Very well. Hurry over and get your weapons unlimbered. I’ll have ten expert gunners over at the hotel roof in as many minutes, and while you are explaining the weapons to them, five combat planes will be made ready.”

Five minutes later, Roger, with the help of Bevans, was hastily unloading the large degravitors from the freighter, when an air alarm siren sounded below them, followed by another and another until the city was in an uproar.

In a moment a fleet of combat planes left the ground and headed westward. Using his glasses, Roger saw the reason. The three huge lunar globes which had, only a few minutes before, been reported on the way to the United States, were flying swiftly toward the Capitol, raking the ground beneath them with their deadly green rays, more than a dozen of which shone from each globe—and occasionally destroying aircraft that approached them.

Standing on the hotel roof beside Ted’s aerial freighter was the helicopter limousine of the President. Its chauffeur was idly leaning against a wing, watching the fast disappearing squadron which had just risen.

“Quick, Bevans!” said Roger. “It’s you and me for it! Grab those controls and I’ll bring a degravitor!”

They rose, a moment later, with helicopters roaring, while the President’s pilot, who had lost his prop and his balance, scrambled to his feet and gaped after them. The plane was a swift one, and in a few minutes Bevans had brought it close behind the aerial squadron.

“Straight up, now,” ordered Roger, “and make it snappy.”

As they began their assent the battle started with the rattle of machine guns and the boom of rapid fire turret guns. Then the globes, apparently unharmed by the gunfire, began systematically wiping out the defense squadron with their green rays. One by one, huge combat planes were crumpling and crashing to the ground, when Roger brought his degravitor to bear on the foremost globe. His invisible ray cut a round hole about four feet in diameter clear through the center of the lunar vehicle, with no apparent effect on its progress or lethal ray projectors. But be had only to lower, then slightly elevate his weapon, and the globe was divided as neatly as a knife divides an apple, both halves crashing instantly to the ground.

Swinging his degravitor into line on another globe, Roger proceeded to halve it as he had the first, but before he could turn it on the third globe, the latter, its commander apparently fearing the fate of the first two, elevated its forward disc and shot straight up into the air with such appalling speed that it disappeared completely in a moment.

Roger clapped his binoculars to his eyes, but even they failed to reveal the swiftly flying globe.

“No use to follow that bird, Bevans,” he said. “He’s well on his way to the moon by this time. Let’s go and have a look at the ones we brought down.”

They descended, but a half dozen of the government combat planes were ahead of them, and the men were dragging the bodies of stunned and dead Lunites from the wrecks when they arrived. Forty dazed prisoners, most of whom had fractured limbs, were taken from the wrecks, and twenty-six bodies.

Roger’s great fear was that he might find the body of Professor Ederson in the wrecks, but there was no sign of it. Either he had been completely destroyed by the degravitor rays, or was in the globe which had escaped.

Only thirty of the squadron of fifty combat planes which had flown out to meet the foe accompanied Roger back to the Capitol. The others, together with their crews, had been utterly destroyed by the green rays.

Back in the President’s office, Roger received the commendation of the chief executive with a deprecatory shrug.

“It was nothing,” he said. “Easier than breaking clay pigeons with a trap gun.”

“I don’t believe the General will ask for any more demonstrations,” smiled the President. “From now on, he’ll be crying night and day for degravitors.”

At this moment the President’s radiovisiphone operator appeared in the disc and said:

“Chicago is calling Mr. Sanders, Sir.”

“Tune them in,” said the President.

There instantly appeared in the disc, the face of Ted’s day operator, Miss Whitley.

“Mr. Stanley, in charge of the big radiovisiphone, thinks the moon people are trying to get in touch with us,” she said.

“Tell him to hold them, if he can, until we can silence all broadcasting stations,” replied Roger. “Then connect me with him.”


Maza of the Moon    |     13 - Flying Reptiles


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