The Radio Planet

by Ralph Milne Farley

  From time to time he rested and listened for the approach of Formians. Occasionally he ate and drank. During his longer rests, he carted the rifle, the ammunition and some provisions to a point quite a distance down the mountainside, and cached them there; for he had formulated a plan of escape. But mostly he stuck to his signaling. All Cupia, or such of it as might still possess long-distance radio sets in spite of the renewed dominion of Yuri, must be made to know of the return of Myles Cabot from the earth.

  Night fell, and with it came a respite from the danger of Formian attack; for these creatures would never venture forth in the darkness without lights, and lights would betray them. Myles spent part of the night in sending his message, part in watching for approaching lights, and part in dozing.

  Finally along toward morning he set about wrecking the set, for he did not wish the Formians to get into communication with Cupia and undo the effect of his own message by pointing out its falsity. Accordingly he smashed the tubes, unwound the inductances and transformers, cut all the wiring into little bits, bent the plates of the condensers, chiseled through the coils of the generator, pounded the trophil-engine to pieces, and drained the trophil tank. It would be many sangths before a new radio set could be built, if indeed these Formians knew enough of the art to ever build another.

  His work of destruction completed, he sat down to wait; but the inaction palled on him, and before he knew it he had fallen sound asleep.

  He awakened with a start. It was broad daylight. He listened. There was much rattling outside. So he walked to the door, unbarred it, and stepped out.

  He was not afraid; for on the evening before he had nailed above the door two crossed sticks, the Porovian equivalent of a flag of truce.

  At a short distance stood a band of thirty or forty ant-men, their leader holding a pair of crossed sticks. Accordingly the ragged earth-man advanced. Not one of them did he recognize, but this was no indication of their identity.

  Were these members of the Yuri faction, he wondered, or of the faction recently captained by the now deceased Doggo? If the former, they were conquerors intent on adding him to their list of conquests; but if the latter, then they might be fugitives like himself. It behooved him to find out.

  So he proceeded to a slight depression in the mountain-top, very near the group of Formians. This depression contained soil, and in it he scratched in Porovian shorthand the words: “Yuri or Doggo?” Then pointed to his message and withdrew for a slight distance.

  One of the ^ant-men advanced alone to the depression, stared at the words, rubbed one part of them, and returned to his comrades, at which Cabot in turn advanced.

  The one word remaining written in the dirt was “Yuri!” So these were victorious enemies, rather than fugitive friends.

  Waving a signal that the interview was at an end, Myles Cabot returned with dignity to the shack and pulled down his crossed sticks.

  But then, instead of entering, he suddenly dashed around the house and slid down the mountainside amid a shower of pebbles.

  Instantly the Formian pack rushed after him, but they were too late; for by the time they had gained the crest he was safely under cover of the bushes, making his way down the slope with his rifle, ammunition, and provision. The ant-men evidently feared an ambush, for they did not follow.

  This side”of the mountain (the eastern) was wooded, instead of the almost impassable boulders over which he had climbed up the other side two days ago. Accordingly the descent was easy, almost pleasant. Soon he struck a path beside a little brook, and followed it until it led out onto the fertile eastern plains which he had observed when first he had topped this range of hills.

  Beneath a large tree beside the brook, at the edge of the plain, Myles Cabot stopped and sat down for lunch; and it was while seated thus, with his back against the tree trunk, that an arrow suddenly whistled through the woods and imbedded itself in the bark just above his head.

  Startled, he sprang to his feet, seized his rifle, and looked around.

  A second arrow sped through the air, and this one did not miss him.

  In due course of time, Myles regained consciousness. He was lying on the ground beneath the same tree. There was an ugly gash in his head. His rifle,. ammunition, and food were gone. His face and body were covered with clotted blood, and he felt very faint.

  With difficulty he dragged himself to the stream, tore off a piece of his ragged toga, and washed away some of the gore. But it required an almost superhuman effort. He lay on the bank and panted. His head swam. His surroundings began to blur and dance about. And then he swooned again.

  After what seemed an interminable time he became dimly conscious that he was lying on something less hard than the ground. Soft arms were around him. Some one was crooning to him sweet words and low.

  Was this a dream? Or was he back once more in Cupia with his loved ones?

  VI

  THE VAIRKINGS

  Myles Cabot opened his weary eyes. Around him hung barbaric tapestries. He was lying on a couch covered by the same materials.

  Seated on the couch beside him was a creature human in form, but covered with short golden-brown fur. It seemed to be a young woman of some species. But of what species?

  Myles threw back his head and studied the creature’s face, expecting to see the prognathous features of some anthropoid ape. But no; for eyes, nose, mouth, ears, and all were human, distinctly human, and of high type. They might have been the features of an earth-girl, except for the fact that the short brown fur persisted on the face as on the rest of the body. The general effect reminded Cabot for all the world of a teddy bear. Yes, that is what this creature was, an animated human teddy bear.

  Seeing Cabot looking at her, the creature smiled down at him, and murmured some strange words in a soothing musical voice. Also she stroked his cheek with one of her furry paws.

  At this moment the hangings parted, and there stepped into their presence a man of the species, wearing a leather tunic and leather helmet, and carrying a wooden spear. Bowing low before the furry lady, he spoke to her in the same soft tongue which she had employed in addressing Myles.

  Not a single syllable was familiar to the earth-man, but he caught the words “Roy” and “Vairking” repeated a number of times, and also made out that the furry man had addressed the furry lady as “Arkilu.”

  Arkilu now arose from the couch and, taking a tablet and a stick of charcoal from a near-by stand, wrote some characters upon a sheet of paper and handed it to the man, who bowed and withdrew.

  The pad and charcoal gave Myles an idea. If he was to stay any length of time with these creatures he had better start in at once learning both their written and their spoken language.

  And perhaps, when he had mastered it, he could persuade these kindly yet warlike folk to assist him against the Formians. He judged that they were kindly, because of the actions of the furry lady; and they were warlike, because of the habiliments of the furry man.

  Putting his idea into action, Myles sat up, gathering a gaudy blanket about his shoulders, and pointed to the writing materials. With a furry smile Arkilu brought them to him.

  Having been through this game once before, he knew just where to begin. He pointed to the couch, and handed her the pad and charcoal.

  Whereupon the lady spoke some absolutely unintelligible sound, and wrote upon the pad, in unmistakable Cupian shorthand, the familiar Cupian word for couch!

  Myles could hardly believe his senses. He stared at the paper, rubbed his eyes, and then stared again. How was it that this creature employed a written character identical with the ‘word used by another race, far across the impassable boiling seas, to designate the same thing? But perhaps this was merely a coincidence.

  So he pointed to another object. Again there came a strange sound, coupled with the familiar Cupian symbol.

  The experiment was repeated and repeated, always with the same result.

  Then Cabot himself took the writing materials and in
scribed a number of words which sounded somewhat alike in Porovian antenna speech. To these words Arkilu gave an entirely different set of similar sounds.

  “Aha,” said Cabot to himself, “this language employs exactly the same words as are used on our continent, but translates the sound-symbols of these words into entirely different sounds!”

  Cabot’s interpretation of the situation proved correct in the main, which fact made it extremely easy for him to master the new language, Already he could carry on a written conversation with his benefactress; and before long it became possible, by dint of great care, for him to talk aloud in simple sentences.

  Of course, all this progress was not made at one sitting, for Arkilu insisted that her patient take frequent rests. From time to time meals were served by female attendants, meals abounding in strange meats, mostly lobsterlike, but some resembling fish and flesh. Each night Arkilu departed, leaving a furry man-creature on guard, with leather armor and wooden spear.

  As he mastered the language, Myles learned the following facts from Arkilu. Her people were called the Vairkings, and she was the eldest daughter of Theoph, their ruler. The Vairkings were a primitive race. Apparently they knew nothing of any of the metals, but had made considerable progress in the arts of tanning, weaving and carpentry.

  The fact that they had made cloth accounted for the fact that they had paper. Their leather they had obtained from the hides of a large variety of nocturnal reptiles, known indiscriminately as “gnoopers,” and ranging in size from that of a cat to that of an elephant, though all possessed the common characteristics of small heads, long necks, stumpy legs, and long heavy tails.

  She explained as follows to her guest how he had been rescued: “Our home is in the city of Vairkingi, far away, a little east of north from here. We Vairkings stick pretty close to the cities, for the great open spaces of our land are inhabited by predatory tribes of wild creatures very like ourselves, called Roies. The leader of one of the largest tribes of these, Att the Terrible, sought alliance with my father, and, as the price of this alliance, a union between Att and myself. But I spurned him.

  “His hordes then attacked Vairkingi, but we repulsed them and drove them to the southward. At present we are on a punitive expedition into their territory. Our warriors are under the command of Jud the Excusemaker; and my father (Theoph—the Grim) and I have accompanied the headquarters, so as to witness the downfall of Att the Terrible.

  “It was undoubtedly one of the Roies who wounded you, but the approach of our men drove them off before they had time to dp you further harm. It was I myself who found you lying beside the brook, and I would fain possess you as my own, you who are unlike any man whom I have ever seen. Whence come you?”

  “I am from the planet Minos, O Arkilu the Beautiful,” replied Cabot.

  But the princess incredulously shook her head, saying, “I know not whereof you speak, nor know I the meaning of the word ‘planet.’ There are no other worlds than this continent which we inhabit, surrounded by boiling seas on all sides; though rumor says that strange beasts from somewhere have landed ‘and are building a city to the eastward of the mountains.”

  “Rumor has it right,” Myles laconically interjected, “for I had just escaped from those beasts when I was wounded by the arrow of the Roies.” . Arkilu opened her eyes in wonder.

  “Tell me about them,” she breathed.

  So the earth-man sat up, swathed in the gaudy tapestries of the Vairkings, and related to the furry princess the story of his adventures on the planet Poros. It was difficult to put it all into words within her comprehension, for neither she nor. her people could know anything of radio, of the solar system, of airplanes, or of rifles. Accordingly his account ran about as follows:

  “Know, O Princess, that there is another land called ‘Minos’, or in our own language ‘the earth’, far above those silver clouds, one million times the distance from here to your capital city, Vairkingi. Also there is, beyond the boiling seas, another land much like this, where dwell hairless men called ‘Cupians’, and also the black beasts to whom you have referred. These beasts are called ‘Formians’.

  “Cupians and Formians cannot talk with their mouths as you and I. Nor do they have ears to hear with. Instead, they communicate by a kind of soundless magic, called ‘radio’. But they write the same language as do you Vairkings.

  “On the earth I was master of this magic, radio. But one day my own magic proved too strong for me, and shot me through the skies, to Formia, where the Formians captured me. I found that the Cupians were the slaves of the Formians.

  “By means of radio I was able to talk with both races. I escaped from the Formians. By other magic, which could throw small black stones faster than arrows and with more deadly results, I led the Cupians to victory over their oppressors. Their princess, Lilla, became my bride, and our son, Kew, now sits on the throne of Cupia. But Prince Yuri, a renegade Cupian, rebelled against us, for he too loved Lilla!”

  Myles continued: “Yuri and his allies possessed magic wagons which could fly through the air—”

  “What is ‘fly’?” Arkilu interrupted. “If you mean ‘swim’ it is impossible, for no creature ever lived which could swim in air.”

  “Ah, but this is magic, you must remember,” he assured her. “Have you Vairkings never seen any peculiar black objects sailing through the sky since the rumored arrival of the Formians on your continent?”

  Arkilu pursed her lips in thought. “Yes,” she admitted, “there have been rumors of that too.”

  “Well,” he continued, “those were the flying wagons of the Formians. When we finally defeated them and drove them across the boiling seas in these wagons, I revisited the planet earth by means of the radio magic of which I have told you. But on my attempted return to Cupia I landed on your continent instead, by mistake, and was again captured by my Formian enemies. Of my escape from them, my wounding by the Roy arrow, and my rescue by you, you already know.”

  Arkilu smiled ingratiatingly. “You are a pretty spinner of tales. Therefore I shall keep you to amuse me. Methinks that even Theoph the Grim will revel in your fantasies.”

  And she leaned over and caressed Cabot’s cheek with one furry hand. He cringed at the touch, yet strove not to offend her, whose continued friendship might mean so much toward his return to his own country.

  He wanted her good will and her influence; but, out of loyalty to Lilla, he dreaded her love.

  To change the subject he inquired: “When shall I be well enough to get up?”

  “You are well enough now,” she replied “Try to stand.”

  At Myles’s insistence, a leather suit was sent for; he soon found himself dressed like a soldier of the Vairkings.- Thus arrayed he stood and walked about a little inside the tent, but Arkilu would not permit him to venture outside until he should be stronger.

  Before leaving for the night Arkilu announced: “Tomorrow our expedition starts back for Vairkingi. When we reach the city I shall marry you, for I have decided that I love you.”

  VII

  RADIO ONCE MORE

  So Arkilu, the furry beauty, planned to marry Myles Cabot, the earth-man, he who already loved and was wed to Lilla of Cupia! A happy prospect indeed! Yet he dared not repulse the Vairkingian” maiden, lest thereby he lose his chance of returning to his home and family.

  For at last he had formulated a plan of action, namely to arm the hordes of Vairkingia, lead them against the ant-men, seize an ant-plane and with it fly back to Cupia. So, for the present, he appeared to fall in with the matrimonial whim of the princess.

  Early the next morning, however, as he was prowling around inside the tent, testing his weak legs, he overheard a conversation on the outside, which changed the situation considerably.

  “But, father,” remonstrated a voice which Myles recognized as that of Arkilu, “I found him, and therefore he is mine. I want him. He is beautiful!”

  “Beautiful? Humph!” a stern male voice sarcastically re
plied. “He must be, without any fur! Oh, to think that my royal daughter would wish to wed a freak of nature, and a common soldier at that!”

  “He’s not a common soldier!” asserted the voice of Arkilu. “He wears clothes merely so as to preserve his health for my sake.”

  “Well, a sickly cripple then,” answered her father’s voice, “which is just as bad. At all events, Jud is the leader of this expedition, and therefore this captive belongs to him. You can have him only if Jud so wills. It is the law.”

  Myles Cabot stealthily crossed the tent and put his eye to an opening between the curtains at the tent opening. There stood the familiar figure of Arkilu, and confronting her was a massive male Vairking. His fur, however, was snow white, so that his general appearance resembled that of a polar bear. His face was appropriately harsh and cold. This was Theoph the Grim, ruler of the Vairkings! The dispute continued. And then there approached another man of the species. The newcomer, black-furred, was short, squat, and gnarled, yet possessed of unquestionable intelligence and a certain dignity which clearly indicated that he was of noble rank. He wore a leather helmet and carried a wooden lance.

  Theoph the Grim hailed him with: “Ho, Jud, what brings you here?”

  Jud raised his spear diagonally across his chest as a salute, and replied: “A change of plans, excellency. Upon reaching the river, I decided that it would be wiser not to return to Vairkingi by that route.”

  “Really meaning,” Arkilu interposed, with a laugh, “that you found it impossible to throw a bridge across at that point.”

  “Why do you always doubt the reasons for my actions?” Jud asked in an aggrieved tone.

  “You wrong me,” she replied, “I never doubt your reasons. Your reasons are always of the best. What I doubt is your excuses.”

  “Enough, enough!” the king shouted. “For I wish to discuss more immediate matters than nice distinctions of language. Jud’s reasons or excuses, or whatever, are good enough for me. Jud, I wish to inform you that my daughter has recently captured a strange furless being, whom it is my pleasure to turn over to you. I have not yet seen this oddity—”