CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A month went by in days and weeks of activity throughout the island. To the Scientists it was a time of unparalleled stress and anxiety. The government was in their hands for the first time in history, and a war--the first that anyone of that time-world had ever faced--was impending.

With Toroh's return his attack would not be long postponed. Fahn knew it. The radio proclaimed it to the Bas everywhere. An army must be trained at once; the Bas, Arans and Scientists were appealed to for volunteers.

It was Fahn's plan not to wait for the Noths to land on the island; but to anticipate the attack and send an army to meet it. The nation responded to the appeal. Conscription had been considered, but within a day the Bas had offered themselves in such numbers that it was obvious any form of conscription would be unnecessary.

The second day after the radio appeal for volunteers, the fact became evident that the Arans were refusing to go to war. In every village recruiting stations were listing the names of the young men of the Bas who presented themselves, but no Arans came. By the audible broadcasting Fahn called them severely to account; but still they remained in hiding. They were sought out. Cowardice, sullenness, declaration that their birthright made it unnecessary--they seemed to have a score of reasons, but the fact remained they would not willingly serve.

Scenes of violence were reported the next day. A Bas father, giving two sons to the coming war, had struck down an Aran youth whom he encountered; a party of Bas, angered into unlawfulness, had entered an Aran household in Orleen and beaten a group of Arans who were holding festivities; an Aran woman had been killed.

"Serves them right," George exclaimed indignantly. "I'd kill them all."

Fahn was perturbed, but then he shrugged. "We have far more young men from the Bas than we can use. I shall tell them to ignore the Arans. And in warfare such as this, an unwilling fighter is worse than none."

"Damned cowards," George muttered. "We'll save their hides for 'em, while they stay home and have parties."

The Scientist had caught the words. "Yes, George, because now that is easiest for us. I want no trouble here on the island. But afterward--when we have won--_then_ we can deal with the Arans."

"I wouldn't have 'em on the island," George declared. It would have been an unfortunate Aran youth who encountered George during the days that followed.

The recruiting, hand in hand with the manufacturing activities of the cavern, went steadily on. In every principal village the Bas youths were registered and drilled, as yet without weapons. Officered by older men of the Bas, they waited for the equipment and orders to come to them from Anglese City.

The information Fahn had regarding Toroh and his Noth army was vague, unsatisfactory; its very meagerness seemed to forecast disaster. Somewhere beyond the mountains the Noths were gathering along the Atlantic Coast. Hordes of men and fighting dogs were coming southward. But their scientific weapons were practically unknown. The thunderbolt globes--of what power Fahn could not say--were all that he was positive they possessed.

It was Toroh's trip back into time that seemed to hold the greatest menace. He had secured some apparatus. What was it? Something invincible, perhaps; something so completely different from anything with which the Anglese were familiar that they could not hope to cope with it.

There were no answers to these questions.

The flying lens--the only one the Anglese possessed--had been destroyed. Others were now being hastily constructed, and with them Fahn intended to reconnoiter extensively over the Noth territory. The information thus attained would be immensely valuable.

The principle of this radio-controlled flying platform, as Fahn had said, was newly invented. It was not yet wholly practical. The dais at the Festival was the first crude model; the flying lens was the second. It had been so successful a model for a beginning that Fahn was encouraged to use it with a broader scope. Larger platforms were now being built, and thunderbolt projectors were to be mounted on them--projectors with an effective radius of a thousand feet. A number of these flying platforms would constitute a mechanical army. Controlled by radios whose operators stayed safely at home, it could be sent forth to battle--with the human army to follow behind it.

The perfecting of the electric fabric repulsive to the earth--an invention revived out of the past and brought to practicability only within the last few months--was the basis of the equipment for the Anglese army now being mobilized. It was kept secret until the last moment.

Two weeks after George's return, the first flying organization was equipped. Two hundred young men selected from the ranks of the Scientists began drilling secretly at night in an open space near Anglese City. Among them were George and Loto. For the men from our time-world, the experience was the most extraordinary they had ever undergone. The fabric was like thin black gauze. A loose suit of it encased each man, bound tightly at his wrists, throat and ankles. About his waist was strapped a broad, cloth belt with several pockets in which to carry various weapons. There was some sort of a battery attached to the belt, from which a current was turned into the gauze suit.

One of Fahns assistants came over to George and adjusted the current to his normal weight, while George stood eyeing the man fearsomely. He could feel the current as it was turned on. It was not unpleasant; it made him tingle all over.

In another moment George was ready. Thin cloth slippers were on his feet; by the pressure against the soles he felt as though he weighed not more than five pounds. Involuntarily, he clutched at Loto, who stood beside him. He felt that a breath of wind would blow him away.

"Let go," Loto grinned. "Make a leap, George."

Obediently George leaped gingerly into the air. He floated upward, turned over, arms and legs flying, and floated downward, landing gently on his face in the sand. But after a few trials he could hold his balance; the air seemed fluid, like water. With wings fastened to his arms and legs, he could have swum through it.

He suggested that to Loto. "Why, with practice, a man could swim through the air, darting about like a fish through water."

Loto laughed. "You'd make a fine inventor, George. That probably was the first crude way it was used. But later they developed a much better way of propulsion, and we have revived it now."

The motive power consisted of a single metal cylinder to be held in the left hand--an apparatus which in weight and shape was not unlike an ordinary flashlight. As George understood its fundamental principle, the thing altered the density of the air in whatever direction it was pointed.

Loto tried to explain it with as few technical words as he could. A spreading, invisible ray from the cylinder penetrated the air for a distance of some ten feet. It separated the molecules of the air, drove them apart. Its action was incredibly swift.

"Well?" demanded George.

"The atmosphere exerts a pressure here of some sixteen pounds to the square inch," Loto said. "The air immediately in advance of this cylinder mouth is almost instantly thinned out. The ray charges the molecules of air and makes them slightly repellent. The result is, George, that immediately in advance of your body the atmospheric pressure is somewhat lessened. Thus, your body moves forward, pushed by the air pressure from behind."

The cylinder had a sliding lever by which its ray was turned on or off. George held it over his head and moved the lever. His body left the ground and shot straight up at increasing speed. There was no rush of wind toward him; instead the air from below seemed to be wafting him upward.

The ground was dropping away. Fifty feet! A hundred feet! Panic struck George; all he could think of to do was shut off the cylinder power. At once he floated down, turning over helplessly. He landed quite gently, several hundred feet from where he had started, with Loto running there to meet him, laughing at his discomfiture.

You couldn't very well get hurt, that was the beauty of the thing. George plunged enthusiastically into learning how to handle himself in the air.

With a week this organization of two hundred Scientist young men were fairly expert with the new flying apparatus. There were several thousand Bas youths now registered in different parts of the island; but the suits and air cylinders for them were not ready. Finally, another hundred were released, and at Anglese City, Mogruud, the Bas leader, and a hundred selected Bas young men began learning to use them.

In spite of the indignant protests of Loto and George, both Fahn's daughters urged that they be allowed to try the apparatus, and Fahn gave his permission.

"I have no sons to give," he said quietly. "And this warfare is of skill, not strength or endurance. If my girls can help their country, it is their duty--and mine--to make the sacrifice."

With this precedent, other Scientist girls--several at Orleen, and twenty at Anglese City--enthusiastically volunteered. Without exception, the girls proved superior to the men. The new art demanded a deft agility, a quickness of thought and movement, which seemed to come to the girls more naturally.

Within a few days, Azeela and Dee could dart through the air with incredible dexterity. The cylinder held in the left hand could be pointed quickly in any direction and the body would be drawn that way. Dee, especially, became proficient. She could dart upward, turn, come swooping down head-first or with slow somersaults, graceful as a dancer, to right herself a few feet above the ground and land on tiptoe.

The result of the girls' proficiency was that they were organized into a separate squad. There were twenty-eight girls in all; thirteen commanded by Azeela, and thirteen by Dee.

During all this time, the Arans had remained in seclusion, keeping off the streets as much as possible. The Bas, drilling without weapons, were eager to be equipped. The king and his council confined themselves to the palace at Anglese City.

There were no boats on the island except crude sailing canoes. A few of the newly equipped flying corps went northward; but Fahn, anticipating the completion of other flying lenses, ordered them not to cross the channel. In the cavern, day and night, operators watched the mirrors, flashing the viewpoints from every coast tower on the island, to guard against a surprise attack.

A month had passed since George's return in the plane. He had suggested several times that the plane might be used in the war. But Rogers refused this. George had exhausted the proton current to the point where there was barely enough left for a return to Roger's time-world. And the plane in itself, as a means of flying through space, would have been of little value in this warfare.

The flying discs, mounted with observing lenses and thunderbolt projectors, were now ready. They were sent out one night, controlled from the cavern.

It was the first aggressive act of the war; a mechanical army sweeping northward to attack the enemy.

In the cavern room, Fahn and his friends sat watching the mirrors, which showed the scene from the viewpoint of the flying mechanisms.

The discs swept northward, following the coastline. Beyond the mountains, far ahead, loomed a great encampment close to the shore, dim and vague in the moonlight. In a few minutes the mechanisms would be there.

Suddenly, one of the mirrors in operation went black. In the others, the scene showed that Toroh was sending up some opposing mechanisms. Dots of silver were mounting from the encampment. They floated slowly upward, but they seemed to seek out the Anglese flying platforms, pursuing them as though with human intelligence.

One by one the mirrors were going black, as the flying lenses were being destroyed. In a moment only one was left. It was almost over Toroh's encampment--almost in range where it could have discharged its bolt.

In the mirrored scene, a white dot was growing as it came closer to the lens. Its image grew; it resolved itself from a dot, so what Fahn saw was a thin, gleaming disc. It looked as though it might be whirling. The thing turned, pursued the lens, overtook it--the last mirror went dark.

The operators, greatly upset, left their instruments and gathered around Fahn. Toroh had sent up some unknown mechanisms; the flying thunderbolt platforms had crashed to the ground before any of them had come within range of the enemy.

It was during this same night that Toroh first used his audible broadcasting beams. Fahn's audible voices in the air had constantly been encouraging his people. Now, abruptly, the air burst forth with other voices. Somewhere in the mountains across the channel, Toroh had erected a broadcasting station. He was sending threats through the air to the Anglese!

It was a surprise, and it disturbed Fahn greatly. Everywhere on the island aerial voices of the enemy were leering, threatening, boasting of the coming triumph of the Noths. Would the Bas be intimidated? It might be disastrous; with the defeat of the flying discs, Fahn was depending more than ever now upon the Bas army.

All that night and next day, the sender from the cavern sent forth its cheering messages.

By the following noon information began coming to Anglese City that the Bas were apparently not alarmed. They were jeering back at Toroh's aerial voices; but they were demanding vigorously that the Scientists give them weapons.

"In a week we shall be ready," Fahn told Rogers. "Five thousand air-pressure cylinders are now in the last process of manufacture. The other weapons are ready. One week more is all we need."

Amid Toroh's aerial threats that day had come the reiterated, triumphant statement that in two weeks more his attack would come. Two weeks still! It was more than Fahn had hoped for.

The statement was Toroh's trickery. Eighteen hours later--the next morning at dawn--a member of the aerial patrol over the channel returned hurriedly to Anglese City with the news that Toroh's expedition had started by water. Huge barges were coming down the coast, pulled by the giant dogs swimming before them--_barges crowded with men and dogs and apparatus_.

That morning was one of almost complete chaos. The invaders would enter the channel near Anglese City. The thunderbolt projectors which had been distributed thinly about the coast were rushed eastward and concentrated at the channel-mouth. There was no time now to equip the main Bas army. The attack would have to be repelled by the coast defense, and by the small aerial army already formed: one hundred Bas led by Mogruud; two hundred Scientists with whom Loto and George were to serve, and the twenty-six Scientist girls, led by Azeela and Dee.

That morning the aerial voices ordered every able-bodied Bas man on the island to come toward Anglese City with every dog that could be procured. If the invaders landed, the dogs could best oppose them.

It was at this juncture that the king announced the change of his royal capital to Orleen. The royal family, the councilors, their retainers--all fled in their dog carriages from Anglese City. Orleen, much further down the channel, would be safe. News of the king's action spread over the island. Arans from everywhere fled after him, huddling in Orleen.

In the confusion of those hours, the contempt for the Arans passed almost without comment. Orleen was the safest place, and the Bas there--men and women both--scornful of remaining among the cowards, came eastward.

By noon the flying army was fully accoutered and waiting in a field near Anglese City. Loto, equipped to remain in constant telephonic communication with Fahn, was virtually the leader. George, with his several weapons in his belt, stood beside Loto. Mogruud had his hundred Bas around him. The girls were in two small groups apart.

At a signal from Fahn, the little army rose swiftly into the sunlit sky. The watching throng was stricken silent with awe. The figures in the air arranged themselves in a broad arc, with the officers in front, and then swept forward, over the channel toward the mountains and the distant sea.