Flying Legion

by George Allan England

  CHAPTER VI

  THE SILENT ATTACK

  At the exact instant when the second hand notched to the minute'sedge, and in precisely the spot indicated, a slight, luminous spotbecame dimly visible above the trees. The spot took uncertain formhigh above the ghost-glow rising from the unseen stockade. For aninstant it hung suspended, pale-greenish, evanescent.

  Then, as a faint plop! drifted to the watchers--a sound no louderthan a feeble clack of the tongue--this indefinite luminosity began tosink, to fade, falling slowly, gradually dissipating itself in the dimlight over the stockade.

  The Master nodded, smiling, with never any hint of praise orapprobation. The fulfilment of his order was to him no other than itis to you, when you drop a pebble into water, to hear the splash ofit. That his plan should be working out, seemed to him a perfectlyobvious, inevitable thing. The only factor that could possibly haveastonished him, just now, would have been the nonappearance of thatslight, luminous cloudlet at the precise spot and moment designated.

  Neither Bohannan, Alden, nor Rrisa was watching the slow descent ofthe lethal gas. All three had their eyes fixed on their own lethal-gaspistols and on their watches. At mathematically the correct second,Bohannan discharged his piece, correctly sighting direction andelevation.

  As he pressed trigger, a light sighing eased itself from the slimbarrel. Something flicked through the leaves; and, almost on theinstant, the phenomenon of the little phosphorescent spot repeateditself, though in a different place from the first one. CaptainAlden's and Rrisa's shots produced still other blurs of virescence.

  Then, as they all waited, crouching, came another and another tinyexplosion, high aloft, at precisely ten-second intervals. Here, there,they developed, until twenty-nine of these strange, bubble-like thingshad burst above and all about the huge enclosure. Then darkness andsilence once more settled down.

  Nothing seemed to have happened. Night still reigned, starry withglimpses of sky through wind-swayed trees. One would have saideverything still remained precisely as it had been before.

  Yet presently, within the stockade or near it, a certain uneasy_melange_ of sounds began to develop. Here a cry became audible, therea command. A startled voice called an order, but suddenly fell silent,half-way through it. The worrying of the dog ceased with eloquentsuddenness. A curse died, unfinished.

  And silence, as perfect as the silence of the unseen watchers strungall about the periphery of the stockade, once more dominated thenight.

  For precisely ten minutes, nothing broke that silence--minutesduring all of which the Master remained calmly waiting, with graveconfidence. Bohannan shuddered a little. His Celtic imagination was atwork, again. Uncanny the attack seemed to him, unreal and ghostlike.So, perhaps, might strange, unbelievable creatures from some otherplanet attack and conquer the world, noiselessly, gently, irrevocably.

  This assault was different from any other ever made since man and manfirst began battling together in the dim twilights of the primeval.Not with shout and cheer did it rush forward, nor yet with venomousgases that gave the alarm, that choked, that strangled, that tortured.

  Silence and concealment, and the invisible blight of sleep, like thegreater numbing that once fell on the hosts of Sennacherib, enfoldedall opposition. All who would have stood against the Legion, simplysighed once, perhaps spoke a few disjointed words, then sank intooblivion.

  So far as anyone could see, save for the bursting of twenty-nineinsignificant little light-bubbles, in mid-air, nothing at all hadhappened. And yet tremendously much had happened, inside the hugestockade.

  Ten minutes to a dot had drifted by, seeming at least six times aslong, when all at once the Master stood up.

  "The gas has dissipated enough now," said he, "so that we can advancein safety. Come!"

  The three also arose, half at his command, half from the independentimpulses given them by their watches as these came to the designatedsecond for the forward movement. The Master blew no whistle, gave nosignal to the many others scattered all through those darkly silentwoods; but right and left, and over beyond the stockade, he knew withthe precision of a mathematical equation every man was at that exactmoment also arising, also obeying orders, also preparing to closein on the precious thing whereof they meant to make themselves theowners.

  Forward the Master made his way, with the three others of hisimmediate escort. Though there no longer existed any need of silence,hardly a word was spoken. Something vast, imminent, overpowering,seemed to have laid its finger on the lips of all, to have muted themof speech.

  The vacuum-lights, however, were now freely flashing in the littleparty, as it advanced directly toward the stockade. The men clamberedover rocks, through bushes, across fallen logs. Rrisa stopped,suddenly, played his light on a little bundle of gray fur, and touchedit with a curious finger. It was a squirrel, curled into a tiny ballof oblivion.

  Alden's foot narrowly missed the body of a sleeping robin. An owl,lodged in the fork of a tree, moved not as the men passed. It, too,was whelmed in deep, temporary Nirvana.

  The party's next find arrested them, with a thrill of genuineemotion, a triumph that could not be denied some few half-whisperedexclamations of exultation from the Master's three companions. Hehimself was the only one who spoke no word. But, like the others, hehad stopped and was pointing the beam of his light on the figure lyinginert among broken bushes.

  With his toe he touched this figure. His light picked up the man'sface from the gloom. That face was looking at him with wide-open eyes.The eyes saw nothing; but a kind of overwhelming astonishment stillseemed mirrored there, caught in the last moment of consciousness asthe man had fallen.

  The effect was startling, of that sleeping face, those open eyes, thatlax mouth. The man was breathing easily, peacefully as a tired child.The Master's brows contracted a little. His lips tightened. Then henodded, and smiled the ghost of a smile.

  "Lord!" exclaimed Bohannan, half awed by the weirdness of theapparition. "Staring at us, that way--and all! Is he asleep?"

  "Try him in any way your ingenuity may suggest," answered the Master,while Alden blinked strangely through his eyeholes, and Rrisa inArabic affirmed that there is no God but Allah. "Try to force somesense-impression to his brain. It is sleep, but it is more than that.The best experiment for any doubting Thomas to employ is just to wakenthis guard--if possible."

  Bohannan shook his head.

  "No," he answered, "I'm not going to make a fool of myself. There's nogoing against any of your statements. I'm beginning to find that out,definitely. Let's be on our way!"

  The Master spoke a few quick words of Arabic to his orderly. Rrisaknelt by the prostrate man. Then, while the Master kept the light-beamon him, Rrisa unbuckled the guard's belt, with cartridges and holstercontaining an ugly snouted gun. This belt the Arab slung round his ownbody. He arose. In silence, leaving the unconscious man just as he hadfallen, they once more pushed onward.

  Lights were beginning to gleam ahead, now, in what appeared to be along, high line. The trees half hid them, but moment by moment theyappeared more distinctly. Meantime, too, the glow over the stockadewas getting stronger. Presently the trees ceased; and there beforethem the men saw a wide, cleared space, a hundred feet of empty landbetween the woods and a tall, stout fence topped with live wires andwith numerous incandescents.

  "Nice place to tackle, if anybody were left to defend it!" commentedBohannan. None of the others answered. The Master started diagonallyacross the cleared space, toward a cluster of little buildings andstout gate-posts.

  Hardly had they emerged from the woods, when, all up and down theline, till it was broken by the woods at both ends where the stockadejoined its eastern and western wall, other men began appearing. Andall, alike, converged toward the gate.

  But to these, the little party of four gave no heed. Other menabsorbed their interest--sleeping men, now more and more thicklyscattered all along the stockade. Save for a slight, saline tangto the air--an odor by no means unpleasant--not
hing remained of thelethal gas.

  But its victims still lay there, prone, in every possible attitude ofcomplete and overpowering abandonment. And all, as the party of fourpassed, were quickly disarmed. Up and down the open space, otherLegionaries were at the same work.

  The Master and his companions reached the gate-house first of anyin the party. The gate was massive, of stout oaken planks heavilystrapped with iron. About it, and the gate-house, a good manyguards were lying. All showed evidence of having dropped asleep withirresistible suddenness.

  Some were gaping, others foolishly grinning as if their last sensationhad been agreeable--as indeed it had been--while others stareddisconcertingly. The chin of one showed an ugly burn where his Turkishcigarette had sagged, and had smoldered to extinction on the flesh.

  One had a watch in his hand, while another gripped a newspaper. In thegate-house, two had fallen face downward on the table that occupiedthe center of the rough room; checker-pieces lay scattered from thegame they had been playing. Several men sprawled just outside thelittle house, on the platform. Under the incandescents, the effectgrew weird.

  Bohannan shuddered, as he glanced from one to another, then up at someof the approaching men of the expedition. Rrisa affirmed that Mohammedwas indeed the prophet of Allah, and that the ways of the _Nasara_were most strange.

  "Good!" exclaimed the Master, with his first word of approval. Evenhis aplomb was a little shaken by the complete success of the attack."It's all working like a clock."

  "How about disarming these men, sir?" queried Captain Alden.

  "No. They fall under the orders of another group."

  "The way is clear, then--"

  "Absolutely! These men will sleep almost precisely thirty minutes. Theway is clear ahead of us. Forward into the Palisade!"