Astounding Stories, August, 1931

by Various

  Brood of the Dark Moon

  (_A Sequel to "Dark Moon"_)

  BEGINNING A FOUR-PART NOVEL

  _By Charles Willard Diffin_

  _He landed one blow on the nearest face._]

  [Sidenote: Once more Chet, Walt and Diane are united in a wild ride tothe Dark Moon--but this time they go as prisoners of their deadlyenemy Schwartzmann.]

  CHAPTER I

  _The Message_

  In a hospital in Vienna, in a room where sunlight flooded throughultra-violet permeable crystal, the warm rays struck upon smooth wallsthe color of which changed from hot reds to cool yellow or gray or tosoothing green, as the Directing Surgeon might order. An elusiveblending of tones, now seemed pulsing with life; surely even aflickering flame of vitality would be blown into warm livingness insuch a place.

  Even the chart case in the wall glittered with the same clean,brilliant hues from its glass and metal door. The usual revolvingpaper disks showed white beyond the glass. They were moving; and theink lines grew to tell a story of temperature and respiration and ofevery heart-beat.

  On the identification-plate a name appeared and a date: "ChetBullard--23 years. Admitted: August 10, 1973." And below that theever-changing present ticked into the past in silent minutes: "August15, 1973; World Standard Time: 10:38--10:39--10:40--"

  For five days the minutes had trickled into a rivulet of time thatflowed past a bandaged figure in the bed below--a silent figure andunmoving, as one for whom time has ceased. But the surgeons of theAllied Hospital at Vienna are clever.

  10:41--10:42--The bandaged figure stirred uneasily on a snow-whitebed....

  * * * * *

  A nurse was beside him in an instant. Was her patient about to recoverconsciousness? She examined the bandages that covered a ragged woundin his side, where all seemed satisfactory. To all appearances the manwho had moved was unconscious still; the nurse could not know of thethought impressions, blurred at first, then gradually clearing, thatwere flashing through his mind.

  Flashing; yet, to the man who struggled to comprehend them, theypassed laggingly in review: one picture followed another withexasperating slowness....

  Where was he? What had happened? He was hardly conscious of his ownidentity....

  There was a ship ... he held the controls ... they were flying low....One hand reached fumblingly beneath the soft coverlet to search for atriple star that should be upon his jacket. A triple star: theinsignia of a Master Pilot of the World!--and with the movement therecame clearly a realization of himself.

  Chet Bullard, Master Pilot; he was Chet Bullard ... and a wall ofwater was sweeping under him from the ocean to wipe out the greatHarkness Terminal buildings.... It was Harkness--Walt Harkness--fromwhom he had snatched the controls.... To fly to the Dark Moon, ofcourse--

  What nonsense was that?... No, it was true: the Dark Moon had raisedthe devil with things on Earth.... How slowly the thoughts came! Whycouldn't he remember?...

  Dark Moon!--and they were flying through space.... They had conqueredspace; they were landing on the Dark Moon that was brilliantly alight.Walt Harkness had set the ship down beautifully--

  * * * * *

  Then, crowding upon one another in breath-taking haste, came clearrecollection of past adventures:

  They were upon the Dark Moon--and there was the girl, Diane. They mustsave Diane. Harkness had gone for the ship. A savage, half-human shapewas raising a hairy arm to drive a spear toward Diane, and he, Chet,was leaping before her. He felt again the lancet-pain of thatblade....

  And now he was dying--yes, he remembered it now--dying in the night ona great, sweeping surface of frozen lava.... It was only a momentbefore that he had opened his eyes to see Harkness' strained face andthe agonized look of Diane as the two leaned above him.... But now hefelt stronger. He must see them again....

  He opened his eyes for another look at his companions--and, instead ofblack, star-pricked night on a distant globe, there was dazzlingsunlight. No desolate lava-flow, this; no thousand fires that flaredand smoked from their fumeroles in the dark. And, instead of Harknessand the girl, Diane, leaning over him there was a nurse who laid onecool hand upon his blond head and who spoke soothingly to him ofkeeping quiet. He was to take it easy--he would understand later--andeverything was all right.... And with this assurance Chet Bullarddrifted again into sleep....

  * * * * *

  The blurring memories had lost their distortions a week later, as hesat before a broad window in his room and looked out over thehousetops of Vienna. Again he was himself, Chet Bullard, with a MasterPilot's rating: and he let his eyes follow understandingly the movingpicture of the world outside. It was good to be part of a world whoseevery movement he understood.

  Those cylinders with stubby wings that crossed and recrossed the sky;their sterns showed a jet of thin vapor where a continuous explosionof detonite threw them through the air. He knew them all: the pleasurecraft, the big, red-bellied freighters, the sleek liners, whosemultiple helicopters spun dazzlingly above as they sank down throughthe shaft of pale-green light that marked a descending area.

  That one would be the China Mail. Her under-ports were open before thehold-down clamps had gripped her; the mail would pour out in anavalanche of pouches where smaller mailships waited to distribute thecargo across the land.

  And the big fellow taking off, her hull banded with blue, was one ofSchwartzmann's liners. He wondered what had become of Schwartzmann,the man who had tried to rob Harkness of his ship; who had brought thepatrol ships upon them in an effort to prevent their take-off on thatwild trip.

  For that matter, what had become of Harkness? Chet Bullard wasseriously disturbed at the absence of any word beyond the one messagethat had been waiting for him when he regained consciousness. He drewthat message from a pocket of his dressing gown and read it again:

  "Chet, old fellow, lie low. S has vanished. Means mischief. Think best not to see you or reveal your whereabouts until our position firmly established. Have concealed ship. Remember, S will stop at nothing. Trying to discredit us, but the gas I brought will fix all that. Get yourself well. We are planning to go back, of course. Walt."

  Chet returned the folded message to his pocket. He arose and walkedabout the room to test his returning strength: to remain idle wasbecoming increasingly difficult. He wanted to see Walter Harkness,talk with him, plan for their return to the wonder-world they hadfound.

  * * * * *

  Instead he dropped again into his chair and touched a knob on thenewscaster beside him. A voice, hushed to the requirements of thesehospital precincts spoke softly of market quotations in the farcorners of the earth. He turned the dial irritably and set it on"World News--General." The name of Harkness came from the instrumentto focus Chet's attention.

  "Harkness makes broad claims," the voice was saying. "Viennaphysicists ridicule his pretensions.

  "Walter Harkness, formerly of New York, proprietor of HarknessTerminals, whose great buildings near New York were destroyed in theDark Moon wave, claims to have reached and returned from the DarkMoon.

  "Nearly two months have passed since the new satellite crashed intothe gravitational field of Earth, its coming manifested by earthshocks and a great tidal wave. The globe, as we know, was invisible.Although still unseen, and only a black circle that blocks out distantstars, it is visible in the telescopes of the astronomers; itsdistance and its orbital motion have been determined.

  "And now this New Yorker claims to have penetrated space: to havelanded on the Dark Moon: and to have returned to Earth. Broad claims,indeed, especially so in view of the fact that Harkness refuses tosubmit his ship for examination by the Stratosphere Control Board. Hehas filed notice of ownership, thus introducing some novel legaltechnicalities, but, since space-travel is still a dream of thefuture, there will be none to dispute his claims.

  "Of immediate inte
rest is Harkness' claim to have discovered a gasthat is fatal to the serpents of space. The monsters that appearedwhen the Dark Moon came and that attacked ships above the RepellingArea are still there. All flying is confined to the lower levels; fastworld-routes are disorganized.

  "Whether or not this gas, of which Harkness has a sample, came fromthe Dark Moon or from some laboratory on Earth is of no particularimportance. Will it destroy the space-serpents? If it does this, ourhats are off to Mr. Walter Harkness; almost will we be inclined tobelieve the rest of his story--or to laugh with him over one of thegreatest hoaxes ever attempted."

  Chet had been too intent upon the newscast to heed an opening door athis back....

  * * * * *

  "How about it, Chet?" a voice was asking. "Would you call it a hoax orthe real thing?" And a girl's voice chimed in with exclamations ofdelight at sight of the patient, so evidently recovering.

  "Diane!" Chet exulted, "--and Walt!--you old son-of-a-gun!" He foundhimself clinging to a girl's soft hand with one of his, while with theother he reached for that of her companion. But Walt Harkness' armwent about his shoulders instead.

  "I'd like to hammer you plenty," Harkness was saying, "and I don'teven dare give you a friendly slam on the back. How's the side wherethey got you with the spear?--and how are you? How soon will you beready to start back? What about--"

  Diane Delacouer raised her one free hand to stop the flood ofquestions. "My dear," she protested, "give Chet a chance. He must bedying for information."

  "I was dying for another reason the last time I saw you," Chetreminded her, "--up on the Dark Moon. But it seems that you got meback here in time for repairs. And now what?" His nurse came into theroom with extra chairs; Chet waited till she was gone before herepeated: "Now what? When do we go back?"

  Harkness did not answer at once. Instead he crossed to the newscasterin its compact, metal case. The voice was still speaking softly; at atouch of a switch it ceased, and in the silence came the soft rush ofsound that meant the telautotype had taken up its work. Beneath aglass a paper moved, and words came upon it from a hurricane oftype-bars underneath. The instrument was printing the news story asrapidly as any voice could speak it.

  Harkness read the words for an instant, then let the paper pass on towind itself upon a spool. It had still been telling of the gigantichoax that this eccentric American had attempted and Harkness repeatedthe words.

  "A hoax!" he exclaimed, and his eyes, for a moment, flashed angrilybeneath the dark hair that one hand had disarranged. "I would like totake that facetious bird out about a thousand miles and let him playaround with the serpents we met. But, why get excited? This is allSchwartzmann's doing. The tentacles of that man's influence, reach outlike those of an octopus."

  * * * * *

  Chet ranged himself alongside. Tall and slim and blond, he contrastedstrongly with this other man, particularly in his own quietself-control as against Harkness' quick-flaring anger.

  "Take it easy, Walt," he advised. "We'll show them. But I judge thatyou have been razzed a bit. It's a pretty big story for them toswallow without proof. Why didn't you show them the ship? Or whydidn't you let Diane and me back up your yarn? And you haven'tanswered my other questions: when do we go back?"

  Harkness took the queries in turn.

  "I didn't show the old boat," he explained, "because I'm not readyfor that yet. I want it kept dark--dark as the Dark Moon. I want to domy preliminary work there before Schwartzmann and his experts see ourship. He would duplicate it in a hurry and be on our trail.

  "And now for our plans. Well, out there in space the Dark Moon iswaiting. Have you realized, Chet, that we own that world--you andDiane and I? Small--only half the size of our old moon--but what aplace! And it's ours!

  "Back in history--you remember?--an ambitious lad named Alexandersighed for more worlds to conquer. Well, we're going Alexander onebetter--we've found the world. We're the first ever to go out intospace and return again.

  "We'll go back there, the three of us. We will take no othersalong--not yet. We will explore and make our plans for development;and we will keep it to ourselves until we are ready to hold it againstany opposition.

  "And now, how soon can you go? Your injury--how soon will you be wellenough?"

  "Right now," Chet told him laconically; "to-day, if you say the word.They've got me welded together so I'll hold, I reckon. But where's theship? What have you done--" He broke off abruptly to listen--

  * * * * *

  To all three came a muffled, booming roar. The windows beside themshivered with the thud of the distant explosion; they had not ceasedtheir trembling before Harkness had switched on the news broadcast.And it was a minute only until the news-gathering system was on theair.

  "Explosion at the Institute of Physical Science!" it said. "This isVienna broadcasting. An explosion has just occurred. We are giving apreliminary announcement only. The laboratories of the ScientificInstitute of this city are destroyed. A number of lives have beenlost. The cause has not been determined. It is reported that thelaboratories were beginning analytical work, on the so-called HarknessDark Moon gas--

  "Confirmation has just been radioed to this station. Dark Moon gasexploded on contact with air. The American, Harkness, is either acriminal or a madman; he will be apprehended at once. Thisconfirmation comes from Herr Schwartzmann of Vienna who left theInstitute only a few minutes before the explosion occurred--"

  And, in the quiet of a hospital room, Walter Harkness, drew a longbreath and whispered: "Schwartzmann! His hand is everywhere.... Andthat sample was all I had.... I must leave at once--go back toAmerica."

  He was halfway to the door--he was almost carrying Diane Delacouerwith him--when Chet's quiet tones brought him up short.

  "I've never seen you afraid," said Chet; and his eyes were regardingthe other man curiously; "but you seem to have the wind up, as the oldflyers used to say, when it comes to Schwartzmann."

  * * * * *

  Harkness looked at the girl he held so tightly, then grinned boyishlyat Chet. "I've someone else to be afraid for now," he said.

  His smile faded and was replaced by a look of deep concern. "I haven'ttold you about Schwartzmann," he said; "haven't had time. But he'spoison, Chet. And he's after our ship."

  "Where is the ship; where have you hidden it? Tell me--where?"

  Harkness looked about him before he whispered sharply: "Our oldshop--up north!"

  He seemed to feel that some explanation was due Chet. "In this day itseems absurd to say such things," he added; "but this Schwartzmann isa throw-back--a conscienceless scoundrel. He would put all three of usout of the way in a minute if he could get the ship. _He_ knows wehave been to the Dark Moon--no question about that--and he wants thewealth he can imagine is there.

  "We'll all plan to leave; I'll radio you later. We'll go back to theDark Moon--" He broke off abruptly as the door opened to admit thenurse. "You'll hear from me later," he repeated; and hurried DianeDelacouer from the room.

  But he returned in a moment to stand again at the door--the nurse wasstill in the room. "In case you feel like going for a hop," he toldChet casually, "Diane's leaving her ship here for you. You'll find itup above--private landing stage on the roof."

  Chet answered promptly, "Fine; that will go good one of these days."All this for the benefit of listening ears. Yet even Chet would havebeen astonished to know that he would be using that ship within anhour....

  * * * * *

  He was standing at the window, and his mind was filled, not withthoughts of any complications that had developed for his friendHarkness, but only of the adventures that lay ahead of them both. TheDark Moon!--they had reached it indeed; but they had barely scratchedthe surface of that world of mystery and adventure. He was wild witheagerness to return--to see again that new world, blazing brightlybeneath the sun; to see the
valley of fires--and he had a score tosettle with the tribe of ape-men, unless Harkness had finished themoff while he, himself, lay unconscious.... Yes, there seemed littledoubt of that; Walt would have paid the score for all of them.... Heseemed actually back in that world to which his thoughts went wingingacross the depths of space. The burr of a telephone recalled him.

  It was the hospital office, he found, when he answered. There was amessage--would Mr. Bullard kindly receive it on the telautotype--levernumber four, and dial fifteen-point-two--thanks.... And Chet depresseda key and adjusted the instrument that had been printing the newscast.

  The paper moved on beneath the glass, and the type-bars clicked moreslowly now. From some distant station that might be anywhere on orabove the earth, there was coming a message.

  The frequency of that sending current was changed at some centraloffice; it was stepped down to suit the instrument beside him. And thetype was spelling out words that made the watching man breathless andintent--until he tore off the paper and leaped for the call signalthat would summon the nurse. Through her he would get his own clothes,his uniform, the triple star that showed his rating and his authorityin every air-level of the world.

  That badge would have got him immediate attention on any landingfield. Now, on the flat roof, with steady, gray eyes and a voice whosevery quietness accentuated its imperative commands, Chet had the staffof the hospital hangars as alert as if their alarm had sounded ageneral ambulance call.

  * * * * *

  Straight into the sky a red beacon made a rigid column of light; aradio sender was crackling a warning and a demand for "clear air."From the forty level, a patrol ship that had caught the signal camecorkscrewing down the red shaft to stand by for emergency work....Chet called her commander from the cabin of Diane's ship. A word ofthanks--Chet's number--and a dismissal of the craft. Then the whitelights signaled "all clear" and the hold-down levers let go with asoft hiss--

  The feel of the controls was good to his hands; the ship roared intolife. A beautiful little cruiser, this ship of Diane's; her twinhelicopters lifted her gracefully into the air. The column of redlight had changed to blue, the mark of an ascending area; Chet toucheda switch. A muffled roar came from the stern and the blast drove himstraight out for a mile; then he swung and returned. He was nosing upas he touched the blue--straight up--and he held the vertical climbtill the altimeter before him registered sixty thousand.

  Traffic is north-bound only on the sixty-level, and Chet set his shipon a course for the frozen wastes of the Arctic; then he gave her thegun and nodded in tight-lipped satisfaction at the mounting thunderthat answered from the stern.

  Only then did he read again the message on a torn fragment oftelautotype paper. "Harkness," was the signature; and above, a briefwarning and a call--"Danger--must leave at once. You get ship andstand by. I will meet you there." And, for the first time, Chet foundtime to wonder at this danger that had set the hard-headed,hard-hitting Walt Harkness into a flutter of nerves.

  * * * * *

  What danger could there be in this well-guarded world? A patrol-shippassed below him as he asked himself the question. It was symbolic ofa world at peace; a world too busy with its own tremendous developmentto find time for wars or makers of war. What trouble could this manSchwartzmann threaten that a word to the Peace Enforcement Commissionwould not quell? Where could he go to elude the inescapable patrols?

  And suddenly Chet saw the answer to that question--saw plainly whereSchwartzmann could go. Those vast reaches of black space! IfSchwartzmann had their ship he could go where they had gone--go out tothe Dark Moon.... And Harkness had warned Chet to get their ship andstand by.

  Had Walt learned of some plan of Schwartzmann's? Chet could not answerthe question, but he moved the control rheostat over to the lastnotch.

  From the body of the craft came an unending roar of a generator wherenothing moved; where only the terrific, explosive impact of burstingdetonite drove out from the stern to throw them forward. "A goodlittle ship," Chet had said of this cruiser of Diane's; and he noddedapproval now of a ground-speed detector whose quivering needle hadleft the 500 mark. It touched 600, crept on, and trembled at 700 milesan hour with the top speed of the ship.

  There was a position-finder in the little control room, and Chet'sgaze returned to it often to see the pinpoint of light that creptslowly across the surface of a globe. It marked their ever-changinglocation, and it moved unerringly toward a predetermined goal.

  * * * * *

  It was a place of ice and snow and bleak outcropping of half-coveredrocks where he descended. Lost from the world, a place where even thehigh levels seldom echoed to the roar of passing ships, it had been aperfect location for their "shop." Here he and Walt had assembledtheir mystery ship.

  He had to search intently over the icy waste to find the exactlocation; a dim red glow from a hidden sun shone like pale fireacross distant black hills. But the hills gave him a bearing, and helanded at last beside a vaguely outlined structure, half hidden indrifting snow.

  The dual fans dropped him softly upon the snow ground and Chet, as hewalked toward the great locked doors, was trembling from other causesthan the cold. Would the ship be there? He was suddenly a-quiver withexcitement at the thought of what this ship meant--the adventure, theexploration that lay ahead.

  The doors swung back. In the warm and lighted room was a cylinder ofsilvery white. Its bow ended in a gaping port where a mighty exhaustcould roar forth to check the ship's forward speed; there were otherports ranged about the gleaming body. Above the hull a control-roomprojected flatly; its lookouts shone in the brilliance of the nitronilluminator that flooded the room with light....

  Chet Bullard was breathless as he moved on and into the room. His wildexperiences that had seemed but a weird dream were real again. TheDark Moon was real! And they would be going back to it!

  * * * * *

  The muffled beating of great helicopters was sounding in his ears;outside, a ship was landing. This would be Harkness coming to joinhim; yet, even as the thought flashed through his mind, it wascountered by a quick denial. To the experienced hearing of the MasterPilot this sound of many fans meant no little craft. It was a big shipthat was landing, and it was coming down fast. The blue-stripedmonster looming large in the glow of the midnight sun was not entirelya surprise to Chet's staring eyes.

  But--blue-striped! The markings of the Schwartzmann line!--He hadhardly sensed the danger when it was upon him.

  A man, heavy and broad of frame, was giving orders. Only once had Chetseen this Herr Schwartzmann, but there was no mistaking him now. Andhe was sending a squad of rushing figures toward the man who struggledto close a great door.

  Chet crouched to meet the attack. He was outnumbered; he could neverwin out. But the knowledge of his own helplessness was nothing besidethat other conviction that flooded him with sickening certainty--

  A hoax!--that was what they had called Walt's story; Schwartzmann hadso named it, and now Schwartzmann had been the one to fool them; themessage was a fake--a bait to draw him out; and he, Chet, had takenthe bait. He had led Schwartzmann here; had delivered their ship intohis hands--

  He landed one blow on the nearest face; he had one glimpse of aclubbed weapon swinging above him--and the world went dark.

  CHAPTER II

  _Into Space_

  A pulsing pain that stabbed through his head was Chet's firstconscious impression. Then, as objects came slowly into focus beforehis eyes, he knew that above him a ray of light was strikingslantingly through the thick glass of a control-room lookout.

  Other lookouts were black, the dead black of empty space. Throughthem, sparkling points of fire showed here and there--suns, sendingtheir light across millions of years to strike at last on a speedingship. But, from the one port that caught the brighter light, came thatstraight ray to illumine the room.

  "Space,"
thought Chet vaguely. "That is the sunlight of space!"

  He was trying to arrange his thoughts in some sensible sequence. Hishead!--what had happened to his head?... And then he remembered. Againhe saw a clubbed weapon descending, while the face of Schwartzmannstared at him through bulbous eyes....

  And this control-room where he lay--he knew in an instant where hewas. It was his own ship that was roaring and trembling beneathhim--his and Walt Harkness'--it was flying through space! And, withthe sudden realization of what this meant, he struggled to arise. Onlythen did he see the figure at the controls.

  The man was leaning above an instrument board; he straightened tostare from a rear port while he spoke to someone Chet could not see.

  "There's more of 'em coming!" he said in a choked voice. "_Mein Gott!_Neffer can we get away!"

  * * * * *

  He fumbled with shaking hands at instruments and controls; and nowChet saw his chalk-white face and read plainly the terror that waswritten there. But the cords that cut into his own wrists and anklesreminded him that he was bound; he settled back upon the floor. Whystruggle? If this other pilot was having trouble let him get out of itby himself--let him kill his own snakes!

  That the man was having trouble there was no doubt. He looked oncemore behind him as if at something that pursued; then swung theball-control to throw the ship off her course.

  The craft answered sluggishly, and Chet Bullard grinned where he layhelpless upon the floor; for he knew that his ship should have beenthrown crashingly aside with such a motion as that. The answer wasplain: the flask of super-detonite was exhausted; here was the lastfeeble explosion of the final atoms of the terrible explosive that wasbeing admitted to the generator. And to cut in another flask meant theopening of a hidden valve.

  Chet forgot the pain of his swelling hands to shake with suppressedmirth. This was going to be good! He forgot it until, through alookout, he saw a writhing, circling fire that wrapped itself aboutthe ship and jarred them to a halt.

  The serpents!--those horrors from space that had come with the comingof the Dark Moon! They had disrupted the high-level traffic of theworld; had seized great liners; torn their way in; stripped these ofevery living thing, and let the empty shells crash back to earth. Chethad forgotten or he had failed to realize the height at which this newpilot was flying. Only speed could save them; the monsters, with theirsnouts that were great suction-cups, could wrench off a metaldoor--tear out the glass from a port!

  * * * * *

  He saw the luminous mass crush itself against a forward lookout andfelt the jar of its body against their ship. Soft and vaporous, thesecloud-like serpents seemed as they drifted through space; yet theimpact, when they struck, proved that this new matter had mass.

  Chet saw the figure at the controls stagger back and cower in fear;the man's bullet-shaped head was covered by his upraised arms: therewas some horror outside those windows that his eyes had no wish tosee. Beside him the towering figure of Schwartzmann appeared; he hadsprung into Chet's view, and he screamed orders at the fear-strickenpilot.

  "Fool! Swine!" Schwartzmann was shouting. "Do something! You said youcould fly this ship!" In desperation he leaped forward and reached forthe controls himself.

  Chet's blurred faculties snapped sharply to attention. That yellowglow against the port--the jarring of their ship--it meant instantdestruction once that searching snout found some place where it couldsecure a hold. If the air-pressure within the ship were released; ifeven a crack were opened!--

  "Here, you!" he shouted to the frantic Schwartzmann who was jerkingfrenziedly at the controls that no longer gave response. "Cut theseropes!--leave those instruments alone, you fool!" He was suddenlyvibrant with hate as he realized what this man had done: he had struckhim, Chet, down as he would have felled an animal for butchery; he hadstolen their ship; and now he was losing it. Chet hardly thought ofhis own desperate plight in his rage at this threat to their ship, andat Schwartzmann's inability to help himself.

  "Cut these ropes!" he repeated. "Damn it all, turn me loose; I can flyus out!" He added his frank opinion of Schwartzmann and all his men.And Schwartzmann, though his dark face flushed angrily red for oneinstant, leaped to Chet's side and slashed at the cords with a knife.

  The room swam before Chet's dizzy eyes as he came to his feet. He halffell, half drew himself full length toward the valve that he aloneknew. Then again he was on his feet and he gripped at the ball-controlwith one hand while he opened a master throttle that cut in this newsupply of explosive.

  * * * * *

  The room had been silent with the silence of empty space, save onlyfor the scraping of a horrid body across the ship's outer shell. Thesilence was shattered now as if by the thunder of many guns. Therewas no time for easing themselves into gradual flight. Chet thrustforward on the ball-control, and the blast from their stern threw theship as if it had been fired from a giant cannon.

  The self-compensating floor swung back and up; Chet's weight wasalmost unbearable as the ship beneath him leaped out and on, and theterrific blast that screamed and thundered urged this speeding shellto greater and still greater speed. And then, with the facility thatthat speed gave, Chet's careful hands moved a tiny metal ball withinits magnetic cage, and the great ship bellowed from many ports as itfollowed the motion of that ball.

  Could an eye have seen the wild, twisting flight, it must have seemedas if pilot and ship had gone suddenly mad. The craft corkscrewed andwhirled; it leaped upward and aside; and, as the glowing mass wasthrown clear of the lookout, Chet's hand moved again to that maximumforward position, and again the titanic blast from astern drove themon and out.

  There were other shapes ahead, glowing lines of fire, luminous masseslike streamers of cloud that looped themselves into contorted formsand writhed vividly until they straightened into sharp lines of speedthat bore down upon the fleeing craft and the human food that wasescaping these hungry snouts.

  Chet saw them dead ahead; he saw the out-thrust heads, each ending ina great suction-cup, the row of disks that were eyes blazing above,and the gaping maw below. He altered their course not a hair's breadthas he bore down upon them, while the monsters swelled prodigiouslybefore his eyes. And the thunderous roar from astern came with never abreak, while the ship itself ceased its trembling protest against thesudden blast and drove smoothly on and into the waiting beasts.

  There was a hardly perceptible thudding jar. They were free! And theforward lookouts showed only the brilliant fires of distant suns andone more glorious than the rest that meant a planet.

  * * * * *

  Chet turned at last to face Schwartzmann and his pilot where they hadclung helplessly to a metal stanchion. Four or five others crept infrom the cabin aft; their blanched faces told of the fear that badgripped them--fear of the serpents; fear, too, of the terrific plungesinto which the ship had been thrown. Chet Bullard drew the metalcontrol-ball back into neutral and permitted himself the luxury of alaugh.

  "You're a fine bunch of highway-men," he told Schwartzmann; "you'llsteal a ship you can't fly; then come up here above the R. A. leveland get mixed up with those brutes. What's the idea? Did you think youwould just hop over to the Dark Moon? Some little plan like that inyour mind?"

  Again the dark, heavy face of Schwartzmann flushed deeply; but it washis own men upon whom he turned.

  "You," he told the pilot--"you were so clever; you would knock thisman senseless! You would insist that you could fly the ship!"

  The pilot's eyes still bulged with the fear he had just experienced."But, Herr Schwartzmann, it was you who told me--"

  A barrage of unintelligible words cut his protest short. Schwartzmannpoured forth imprecations in an unknown tongue, then turned to theothers.

  "Back!" he ordered. "Bah!--such men! The danger it iss over--yess!This pilot, he will take us back safely."

  He turned his attention now
to the waiting Chet. "Herr Bullard, iss itnot--yess?"

  He launched into extended apologies--he had wanted a look at this somarvelous ship--he had spied upon it; he admitted it. But thismurderous attack was none of his doing; his men had got out of hand;and then he had thought it best to take Chet, unconscious as he was,and return with him where he could have care.

  * * * * *

  And Chet Bullard kept his eyes steadily upon the protesting man andsaid nothing, but he was thinking of a number of things. There wasWalt's warning, "this Schwartzmann means mischief," and the fakedmessage that had brought him from the hospital to get the ship fromits hiding place; no, it was too much to believe. But Chet's eyes wereunchanging, and he nodded shortly in agreement as the other concluded.

  "You will take us back?" Schwartzmann was asking. "I will repay youwell for what inconvenience we have caused. The ship, you will returnit safely to the place where it was?"

  And Chet, after making and discarding a score of plans, knew there wasnothing else he could do. He swung the little metal ball into asharply-banked turn. The straight ray of light from an impossiblybrilliant sun struck now on a forward lookout; it shone across theshoulder of a great globe to make a white, shining crescent as of agiant moon. It was Earth; and Chet brought the bow-sights to bear onthat far-off target, while again the thunderous blast was built up todrive them back along the trackless path on which they had come. Buthe wondered, as he pressed forward on the control, what the real planof this man, Schwartzmann, might be....

  * * * * *

  Less than half an hour brought them to the Repelling Area, and Chetfelt the upward surge as he approached it. Here, above this magneticfield where gravitation's pull was nullified, had been the air-lanesfor fast liners. Empty lanes they were now; for the R. A., as theflying fraternity knew it--the Heaviside Layer of an earlierday--marked the danger line above which the mysterious serpents lay inwait. Only the speed of Chet's ship saved them; more than one of theluminous monsters was in sight as he plunged through the invisible R.A. and threw on their bow-blast strongly to check their fall.

  Then, as he set a course that would take them to that section of theArctic waste where the ship had been, he pondered once more upon thesubject of this Schwartzmann of the shifty eyes and the glib tongueand of his men who had "got out of hand" and had captured this ship.

  "Why in thunder are we back here?" Chet asked himself in perplexity."This big boy means to keep the ship; and, whatever his plans may havebeen before, he will never stop short of the Dark Moon now that he hasseen the old boat perform. Then why didn't he keep on when he wasstarted? Had the serpents frightened him back?"

  He was still mentally proposing questions to which there seemed noanswer when he felt the pressure of a metal tube against his back. Thevoice of Schwartzmann was in his ears.

  "This is a detonite pistol"--that voice was no longer unctuous andself-deprecating--"one move and I'll plant a charge inside you thatwill smash you to a jelly!"

  * * * * *

  There were hands that gripped Chet before he could turn; his arms werewrenched backward; he was helpless in the grip of Schwartzmann's men.The former pilot sprang forward.

  "Take control, Max!" Schwartzmann snapped; but he followed it with aquestion while the pilot was reaching for the ball. "You can fly itfor sure, Max?"

  The man called Max answered confidently.

  "_Ja wohl!_" he said with eager assurance. "Up top there would havebeen no trouble yet for that _verdammt, verloren_ valve. That oneexperimental trip is enough--I fly it!"

  Those who held Chet were binding his wrists. He was thrown to thefloor while his feet were tied, and, as a last precaution, a gag wasforced into his mouth. Schwartzmann left this work to his men. He paidno attention to Chet; he was busy at the radio.

  He placed the sending-levers in strange positions that would effect ablending of wave lengths which only one receiving instrument couldpick up. He spoke cryptic words into the microphone, then dropped intoa language that was unfamiliar to Chet. Yet, even then, it was plainthat he was giving instructions, and he repeated familiar words.

  "Harkness," Chet heard him say, and, "--Delacouer--_ja!_--Mam'selleDelacouer!"

  Then, leaving the radio, he said, "Put my ship inside the hangar;" andthe pilot, Max, grounded their own ship to allow the men to leap outand float into the big building the big aircraft in which Schwartzmannhad come.

  "Now close the doors!" their leader ordered. "Leave everything as itwas!" And to the pilot he gave added instructions: "There iss no airtraffic here. You will to forty thousand ascend, und you will waitover this spot." Contemptuously he kicked aside the legs of the boundman that he might walk back into the cabin.

  * * * * *

  The take-off was not as smooth as it would have been had Chet's slimhands been on the controls; this burly one who handled them now wasnot accustomed to such sensitivity. But Chet felt the ship lift andlurch, then settle down to a swift, spiralling ascent. Now he laystill as he tried to ponder the situation.

  "Now what dirty work are they up to?" he asked himself. He had seen asullen fury on the dark face of Herr Schwartzmann as he spoke thenames of Walt and Diane into the radio. Chet remembered the look now,and he struggled vainly with the cords about his wrists. Even adetonite pistol with its tiny grain of explosive in the end of eachbullet would not check him--not when Walt and Diane were endangered.And the expression on that heavy, scowling face had told him all tooclearly that some real danger threatened.

  But the cords held fast on his swollen wrists. His head was stillthrobbing; and even his side, not entirely healed, was adding to thetorment that beat upon him--beat and beat with his pulsingblood--until the beating faded out into unconsciousness....

  Dimly he knew they were soaring still higher as their radio picked upthe warning of an approaching patrol ship; vaguely he realized thatthey descended again to a level of observation. Chet knew in somecorner of his brain that Schwartzmann was watching from an underlookout with a powerful glass, and he heard his excited command:

  "Down--go slowly, down!... They are landing.... They have entered thehangar. Now, down with it, Max! Down! down!"

  * * * * *

  The plunging fall of the ship roused Chet from his stupor. He felt thejolt of the clumsy landing despite the snow-cushioned ground; heheard plainly the exclamations from beyond an open port--the startledoath in Walter Harkness' voice, and the stinging scorn in the words ofDiane Delacouer.

  Herr Schwartzmann had been in the employ of Mademoiselle Delacouer,but he was taking orders no longer. There was a sound of scufflingfeet, and once the thud of a blow.... Then Chet watched with heavy,hopeless eyes as the familiar faces of Diane and Walt appeared in thedoorway. Their hands were bound; they, too, were threatened with aslim-barreled pistol in the hands of the smirking, exultantSchwartzmann.

  A tall, thin-faced man whom Chet had not seen before followed theminto the room. The newcomer was motioned forward now, as Schwartzmanncalled an order to the pilot:

  "All right; now we go, Max! Herr Doktor Kreiss will give you thebearings; he knows his way among the stars."

  Herr Schwartzmann doubled over in laughing appreciation of his ownsuccess before he straightened up and regarded his captives with coldeyes.

  "Such a pleasure!" he mocked: "such charming passengers to take withme on my first trip into space; this ship, it iss not so goot. I willbuild better ships later on; I will let you see them when I shall cometo visit you."

  He laughed again at sight of the wondering looks in the eyes of thethree; stooping, he jerked the gag from Chet's mouth.

  "You do not understand," he exclaimed. "I should haff explained. Yousee, _meine guten Freunde_, we go--ach!--you have guessed it already!We go to the Dark Moon. I am pleased to take you with me on the tripout; but coming back, I will have so much to bring--there will be noroom for pa
ssengers.

  "I could have killed you here," he said; and his mockery gave placefor a moment to a savage tone, "but the patrol ships, they areeverywhere. But I have influence here und there--I arranged that yourflask of gas should be charged with explosive, I discredited you, andyet I could not so great a risk take as to kill you all."

  "So came inspiration! I called your foolish young friend here from thehospital. I ordered him to go at once to the ship hidden where I couldnot find, and I signed the name of Herr Harkness."

  * * * * *

  Chet caught the silent glances of his friends who could yet smilehopefully through the other emotions that possessed them. He groundhis teeth as the smooth voice of Herr Schwartzmann went on:

  "He led me here; the young fool! Then I sent for you--and this time Isigned his name--und you came. So simple!"

  "Und now we go in my ship to my new world. And," he added savagely,"if one of you makes the least trouble, he will land on the DarkMoon-yess!-but he will land hard, from ten thousand feet up!"

  The great generator was roaring. To Chet came the familiar lift of theR. A. effect. They were beyond the R. A.; they were heading out andaway from Earth; and his friends were captives through his ownunconscious treachery, carried out into space in their own ship, withthe hands of an enemy gripping the controls....

  Chet's groan, as he turned his face away from the others who had triedto smile cheerfully, had nothing to do with the pain of his body. Itwas his mind that was torturing him.

  But he muttered broken words as he lay there, words that had referenceto one Schwartzmann. "I'll get him, damn him! I'll get him!" he waspromising himself.

  And Herr Schwartzmann who was clever, would have proved his clevernessstill more by listening. For a Master Pilot of the World does not gethis rating on vain boasts. He must know first his flying, his shipsand his air--but he is apt to make good in other ways as well.

  CHAPTER III

  _Out of Control_

  Walter Harkness had built this ship with Chet's help. They haddesigned it for space-travel. It was the first ship to leave the Earthunder its own power, reach another heavenly body, and come back for asafe landing. But they had not installed any luxuries for thepassengers.

  In the room where the three were confined, there were noself-compensating chairs such as the high-liners used. But theacceleration of the speeding ship was constant, and the rear wallbecame their floor where they sat or paced back and forth. Their bondshad been removed, and one of Harkness' hands was gripping Diane'swhere they sat side by side. Chet was briskly limbering his crampedmuscles.

  He glanced at the two who sat silent nearby, and he knew what was intheir minds--knew that each was thinking of the other, forgettingtheir own danger: and it was these two who had saved his life on theirfirst adventure out in space.

  Walt--one man who was never spoiled by his millions; andDiane--straight and true as they make 'em! Some way, somehow, theymust be saved--thus ran his thoughts--but it looked bad for them all.Schwartzmann?--no use kidding themselves about that lad; he was onebad hombre. The best they could hope for was to be marooned on theDark Moon--left there to live or to die amid those savagesurroundings; and the worst that might happen--! But Chet refused tothink of what alternatives might occur to the ugly, distorted mind ofthe man who had them at his mercy.

  There was no echo of these thoughts when he spoke; the smile thatflashed across his lean face brought a brief response from thedespondent countenances of his companions.

  "Well," Chet observed, and ran his hand through a tangle of blondhair, "I have heard that the Schwartzmann lines give service, and Ireckon I heard right. Here we were wanting to go back to the DarkMoon, and,"--he paused to point toward a black portlight whereoccasional lights flashed past--"I'll say we're going; going somewhereat least. All I hope is that that Maxie boy doesn't find the Dark Moonat about ten thousand per. He may be a great little skipper on a nice,slow, five-hundred-maximum freighter, but not on this boat. I don'tlike his landings."

  * * * * *

  Diane Delacouer raised her eyes to smile approvingly upon him. "You'regood, Chet," she said; "you are a darn good sport. They knock you downout of control, and you nose right back up for a forty-thousand footzoom. And you try to carry us with you. Well, I guess it's time we gotover our gloom. Now what is going to happen?"

  "I'll tell you," said Walter Harkness, looking at his watch: "if thatfool pilot of Schwartzmann's doesn't cut his stern thrust and build upa bow resistance, we'll overshoot our mark and go tearing on a fewhundred thousand miles in space."

  Diane was playing up to Chet's lead.

  "_Bien!_" she exclaimed. "A few million, perhaps! Then we may see someof those Martians we've been speculating about. I hear they arehandsome, my Walter--much better looking than you. Maybe this is allfor the best after all!"

  "Say," Harkness protested, "if you two idiots don't know enough toworry as you ought, I don't see any reason why I should do all theheavy worrying for the whole crowd. I guess you've got the right ideaat that: take what comes when it gets here--or when we get there."

  Small wonder, thought Chet, that Herr Schwartzmann stared at them inpuzzled bewilderment when he flung open the door, and took one longstride into the room. Stocky, heavy-muscled, he stood regarding them,a frown of suspicion drawing his face into ugly lines. Plainly he wasdisturbed by this laughing good-humor where he had expected misery andhopelessness and tears. He moved the muzzle of a detonite pistol backand forth.

  * * * * *

  "You haff been drinking!" he stated at last. "You are intoxicated--allof you!" His eyes darted searching glances about the little room thatwas too bare to hide any cause for inebriation.

  It was Mam'selle Diane who answered him with an emphatic shake of herdark head; an engaging smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "_Maisnon!_ my dear Herr Schwartzmann," she assured him: "it is joy--justhappiness at again approaching our Moon--and in such good company,too."

  "Fortunes of war, Schwartzmann," declared Harkness; "we know how toaccept them, and we don't hold it against you. We are down now, butyour turn will come."

  The man's reply was a sputtering of rage in words that neither Chetnor Harkness could understand. The latter turned to the girl with aquestion.

  "Did you get it, Diane? What did he say?"

  "I think I would not care to translate it literally," said DianeDelacouer, twisting her soft mouth into an expression of distaste;"but, speaking generally, he disagrees with you."

  Herr Schwartzmann was facing Harkness belligerently. "You think youknow something! What is it?" he demanded. "You are under my feet: Ikick you as I would _meinen Hund_ and you can do nothing." He aimed asavage kick into the air to illustrate his meaning, and Harkness' faceflushed suddenly scarlet.

  * * * * *

  Whatever retort was on Harkness' tongue was left unspoken; a sharplook from Chet, who brought his fingers swiftly to his lips in agesture of silence, checked the reply. The action was almostunconscious on Chet's part; it was as unpremeditated as the suddenthought that flashed abruptly into his mind--

  They were helpless; they were in this brute's power beyond theslightest doubt. Schwartzmann's words, "You know something. What isit?" had fired a swift train of thought.

  The idea was nebulous as yet ... but if they could throw a scare intothis man--make him think there was danger ahead.... Yes, that was it:make Schwartzmann think they knew of dangers that he could not avoid.They had been there before: make this man afraid to kill them. Thedreadful alternative that Chet had feared to think of might beaverted....

  All this came in an instantaneous, flashing correlation of hisconscious thoughts.

  "I'll tell you what we mean," he told Schwartzmann. He even leanedforward to shake an impressive finger before the other's startledface. "I'll tell you first of all that it doesn't make a damn bit ofdifference who is on top--or it won't in a f
ew hours more. We'll allbe washed out together.

  "I've landed once on the Dark Moon; I know what will happen. And doyou know how fast we are going? Do you know the Moon's speed as itapproaches? Had you thought what you will look like when that foolpilot rams into it head on?

  "And that isn't all!" He grinned derisively into Schwartzmann'sflushed face, disregarding the half-raised pistol; it was as if somesecret thought had filled him with overpowering amusement. His broadgrin grew into a laugh. "That isn't all, big boy. What will you do ifyou do land? What will you do when you open the ports and the--?" Hecut his words short, and the smile, with all other expression, wascarefully erased from his young face.

  "No, I reckon I won't spoil the surprise. We got through it all right;maybe you will, too--maybe!"

  * * * * *

  And again it was Diane who played up to Chet's lead without a moment'shesitation.

  "Chet," she demanded, "aren't you going to warn him? You would notallow him and his men to be--"

  She stopped in apparent horror of the unsaid words; Chet gave her anapproving glance.

  "We'll see about that when we get there, Diane."

  He turned abruptly back to Schwartzmann. "I'll forget what a rottenwinner you have been; I'll help you out; I'll take the controls if youlike. Of course, your man, Max, may set us down without damage; thenagain--"

  "Take them!" Schwartzmann ungraciously made an order of hisacceptance. "Take the controls, Herr Bullard! But if you make asingle false move!" The menacing pistol completed the threat.

  But "Herr Bullard" merely turned to his companion with a level,understanding look. "Come on," he said; "you can both help in workingout our location."

  He stepped before the burly man that Diane might precede them throughthe door. And he felt the hand of Walt Harkness on his arm in apressure that told what could not be said aloud.

  * * * * *

  There were pallid-faced men in the cabin through which they passed;men who stared and stared from the window-ports into the blackimmensity of space. Chet, too, stopped to look; there had been noport-holes in that inner room where they had been confined.

  He knew what to expect; he knew how awe-inspiring would be the sightof strange, luminous bodies--great islands of light--masses ofanimaculae--that glowed suddenly, then melted again into velvet black.A whirl of violet grew almost golden in sudden motion; Chet knew itfor an invisible monster of space. Glowingly luminous as it threwitself upon a subtle mass of shimmering light, it faded like aflickering flame, and went dark as its motion ceased.

  Life!--life everywhere in this ocean of space! And on every hand wasdeath. "Not surprising," Chet realized, "that these other Earthmen areawed and trembling!"

  The sun was above them; its light struck squarely down through theupper ports. This was polarized light--there was nothing outside toreflect or refract it--and, coming as a straight beam from above, itmade a brilliant circle upon the floor from which it was diffusedthroughout the room. It was as if the floor itself was theilluminating agent.

  No eye could bear to look into the glare from above; nor was thereneed, for the other ports drew the eyes with their black depths ofunplumbed space.

  Black!--so velvet as to seem almost tangible! Could one have reachedout a hand, that blackness, it seemed, must be a curtain that the handcould draw aside, where unflickering points of light pricked throughthe dark to give promise of some radiant glory beyond.

  * * * * *

  They had seen it before, these three, yet Chet caught the eyes ofHarkness and Diane and knew that his own eyes must share something ofthe look he saw in theirs--something of reverent wonder and a strangehumility before this evidence of transcendent greatness.

  Their own immediate problem seemed gone. The tyranny of this gloweringhuman and his men--the efforts of the whole world and its strugglingmillions--how absurdly unimportant it all was! How it faded toinsignificance! And yet....

  Chet came from the reverie that held him. There was one man by whomthis beauty was unseen. Herr Schwartzmann was angrily ordering themon, and, surprisingly, Chet laughed aloud.

  This problem, he realized, was _his_ problem--his to solve with thehelp of the other two. And it was _not_ insignificant; he knew withsome sudden wordless knowledge that there was nothing in all the greatscheme but that it had its importance. This vastness that was beyondthe power of human mind to grasp ceased to be formidable--he was partof it. He felt buoyed up; and he led the way confidently toward thecontrol-room door where Schwartzmann stood.

  The scientist, whom Schwartzmann had called Herr Doktor Kreiss, wasbeside the pilot. He was leaning forward to search the stars in theblackness ahead, but the pilot turned often to stare through the rearlookouts as if drawn in fearful fascination by what was there. Chettook the controls at Schwartzmann's order; the pilot saluted with atrembling hand and vanished into the cabin at the rear.

  "Ready for flying orders, Doctor," the new pilot told Herr Kreiss."I'll put her where you say--within reason."

  Behind him he heard the choked voice of Mademoiselle Diane:"_Regardez! Ah, mon Dieu_, the beauty of it! This loveliness--ithurts!"

  * * * * *

  One hand was pressed to her throat; her face was turned as the pilot'shad been that she might stare and stare at a quite impossible moon--agreat half-disk of light in the velvet dark.

  "This loveliness--it hurts!" Chet looked, too, and knew what Diane wasfeeling. There was a catch of emotion in his own throat--a feelingthat was almost fear.

  A giant half-moon!--and he knew it was the Earth. Golden Earth-lightcame to them in a flooding glory; the blazing sun struck on it fromabove to bring out half the globe in brilliant gold that melted tosoftest, iridescent, rainbow tints about its edge. Below, hungmotionless in the night, was another sphere. Like a reflection ofEarth in the depths of some Stygian lake, the old moon shone, too, ina half-circle of light.

  Small wonder that these celestial glories brought a gasp of delightfrom Diane, or drew into lines of fear the face of that other pilotwho saw only his own world slipping away. But Chet Bullard, MasterPilot of the World, swung back to scan a star-chart that the scientistwas holding, then to search out a similar grouping in the black depthsinto which they were plunging, and to bring the cross-hairs of arigidly mounted telescope upon that distant target.

  "How far?" he asked himself in a half-spoken thought, "--how far havewe come?"

  * * * * *

  There was an instrument that ticked off the seconds in this seeminglytimeless void. He pressed a small lever beside it, and, beneath aglass that magnified the readings, there passed the time-tape. Eachhour and minute was there; each movement of the controls wasindicated; each trifling variation in the power of the generator'sblast. Chet made some careful computations and passed the paper toHarkness, who tilted the time-tape recorder that he might see therecord.

  "Check this, will you, Walt?" Chet was asking. "It is based on thetime of our other trip, acceleration assumed as one thousand miles perhour per hour out of air--"

  The scientist interrupted; he spoke in English that was carefullyprecise.

  "It should lie directly ahead--the Dark Moon. I have calculated withexactness."

  Walter Harkness had snatched up a pair of binoculars. He swung sharplyfrom lookout to lookout while he searched the heavens.

  "It's damned lucky for us that you made a slight error," Chet wastelling the other.

  "Error?" Kreiss challenged. "Impossible!"

  "Then you and I are dead right this minute," Chet told him. "We arecrossing the orbit of the Dark Moon--crossing at twenty thousand milesper hour relative to Earth, slightly in excess of that figure relativeto the Dark Moon. If it had been here--!" He had been watchingHarkness anxiously; he bit off his words as the binoculars were thrustinto his hand.

  "There she comes," Harkness told him quietly; "it's up to you!" />
  But Chet did not need the glasses. With his unaided eyes he could seea faint circle of violet light. It lay ahead and slightly above, andit grew visibly larger as he watched. A ring of nothingness, whoseoutline was the faintest shimmering halo; more of the distant starswinked out swiftly behind that ghostly circle; it was the DarkMoon!--and it was rushing upon them!

  * * * * *

  Chet swung an instrument upon it. He picked out a jet of violet lightthat could be distinguished, and he followed it with the cross-hairswhile he twirled a micrometer screw; then he swiftly copied thereading that the instrument had inscribed. The invisible disk with itsghostly edge of violet was perceptibly larger as he slammed over thecontrol-ball to up-end them in air.

  Under the control-room's nitron illuminator the cheeks of Herr DoktorKreiss were pale and bloodless as if his heart had ceased to function.Harkness had moved quietly back to the side of Diane Delacouer and washolding her two hands firmly in his.

  The very air seemed charged with the quick tenseness of emotions.Schwartzmann must have sensed it even before he saw the onrushingdeath. Then he leaped to a lookout, and, an instant later, sprang atChet calmly fingering the control.

  "Fool!" he screamed, "you would kill us all? Turn away from it! Awayfrom it!"

  He threw himself in a frenzy upon the pilot. The detonite pistol wasstill in his hand. "Quick!" he shouted. "Turn us!"

  Harkness moved swiftly, but the scientist, Kreiss, was nearer; it washe who smashed the gun-hand down with a quick blow and snatched at theweapon.

  Schwartzmann was beside himself with rage. "You, too?" he demanded."Giff it me--traitor!"

  * * * * *

  But the tall man stood uncompromisingly erect. "Never," he said, "haveI seen a ship large enough to hold two commanding pilots. I take yourorders in all things, Herr Schwartzmann--all but this. If we die--wedie."

  Schwartzmann sputtered: "We should haff turned away. Even yet wemight. It will--it will--"

  "Perhaps," agreed Kreiss, still in that precise, class-room voice,"perhaps it will. But this I know: with an acceleration of onethousand m.p.h. as this young man with the badge of a Master Pilotsays, we cannot hope, in the time remaining, to overcome our presentvelocity; we can never check our speed and build up a relativelyopposite motion before that globe would overwhelm us. If he hasfigured correctly, this young man--if he has found the true resultantof our two motions of approach--and if he has swung us that we maydrive out on a line perpendicular to the resultant--"

  "I think I have," said Chet quietly. "If I haven't, in just a fewminutes it won't matter to any of us; it won't matter at all." He metthe gaze of Herr Doktor Kreiss who regarded him curiously.

  "If we escape," the scientist told him, "you will understand that I amunder Herr Schwartzmann's command; I will be compelled to shoot you ifhe so orders. But, Herr Bullard, at this moment I would be very proudto shake your hand."

  And Chet, as he extended his hand, managed a grin that was meant alsofor the tense, white-faced Harkness and Diane. "I like to see 'emdealt that way," he said, "--right off the top of the deck."

  But the smile was erased as he turned back to the lookout. He had tolean close to see all of the disk, so swiftly was the approachingglobe bearing down.

  * * * * *

  It came now from the side; it swelled larger and larger before hiseyes. Their own ship seemed unmoving; only the unending thunder of thegenerator told of the frantic efforts to escape. They seemed hung inspace; their own terrific speed seemed gone--added to and fused withthe orbital motion of the Dark Moon to bring swiftly closer thatmessenger of death. The circle expanded silently; became menacinglyhuge.

  Chet was whispering softly to himself: "If I'd got hold of her an hoursooner--thirty minutes--or even ten.... We're doing over twentythousand an hour combined speed, and we'll never really hit it....We'll never reach the ground."

  He turned this over in his mind, and he nodded gravely in confirmationof his own conclusions. It seemed somehow of tremendous importancethat he get this clearly thought out--this experience that was closeahead.

  "Skin friction!" he added. "It will burn us up!"

  He had a sudden vision of a flaming star blazing a hot trail throughthe atmosphere of this globe; there would be only savage eyes tofollow it--to see the line of fire curving swiftly across theheavens.... He, himself, was seeing that blazing meteor so plainly....

  His eyes found the lookout: the globe was gone. They wereclose--close! Only for the enveloping gas that made of this a darkmoon, they would be seeing the surface, the outlines of continents.

  Chet strained his eyes--to see nothing! It was horrible. It had beenfearful enough to watch that expanding globe.... He was abruptly awarethat the outer rim of the lookout was red!

  For Chet Bullard, time ceased to have meaning; what were seconds--orcenturies--as he stared at that glowing rim? He could not have told.The outer shell of their ship--it was radiant--shining red-hot in thenight. And above the roar of the generator came a nerve-rippingshriek. A wind like a blast from hell was battering and tearing attheir ship.

  "Good-by!" He had tried to call; the demoniac shrieking from withoutsmothered his voice. One arm was across his eyes in an unconsciousmotion. The air of the little room was stifling. He forced his armdown: he would meet death face to face.

  * * * * *

  The lookout was ringed with fire; it was white with the terrible whiteof burning steel!--it was golden!--then cherry red! It was dying, asthe fire dies from glowing metal plunged in its tempering bath--orthrown into the cold reaches of space!

  In Chet's ears was the roar of a detonite motor. He tried to realizethat the lookouts were rimmed with black--cold, fireless black! Anincredible black! There were stars there like pinpoints of flame! Butconviction came only when he saw from a lookout in another wall acircle of violet that shrank and dwindled as he watched....

  A hand was gripping his shoulder; he heard the voice of WalterHarkness speaking, while Walt's hand crept over to raise the triplestar that was pinned to his blouse.

  "Master Pilot of the World!" Harkness was saying. "That doesn't coverenough territory, old man. It's another rating that you're entitledto, but I'm damned if I know what it is."

  And, for once, Chet's ready smile refused to form. He stared dumbly athis friend; his eyes passed to the white face of Mademoiselle Diane;then back to the controls, where his hand, without conscious volition,was reaching to move a metal ball.

  "Missed it!" he assured himself. "Hit the fringe of the air--just thevery outside. If we'd been twenty thousand feet nearer!..." He wasmoving the ball; their bow was swinging. He steadied it and set theship on an approximate course.

  "A stern chase!" he said aloud. "All our momentum to be overcome--butit's easy sailing now!"

  He pushed the ball forward to the limit, and the explosion-motor gavethunderous response.

  CHAPTER IV

  _The Return to the Dark Moon_

  No man faces death in so shocking a form without feeling the effects.Death had flicked them with a finger of flame and had passed them by.Chet Bullard found his hands trembling uncontrollably as he fumbledfor a book and opened it. The tables of figures printed there wereblurred at first to his eyes, but he forced himself to forget thethreat that was past, for there was another menace to consider now.

  And uppermost in his mind, when his thoughts came back into someapproximate order, was condemnation of himself for an opportunity thatwas gone.

  "I could have jumped him," he told himself with bitter self-reproach;"I could have grabbed the pistol from Kreiss--the man was petrified."And then Chet had to admit a fact there was no use of denying: "I wasas paralyzed as he was," he said, and only knew he had spoken aloudwhen he saw the puzzled look that crossed Harkness' face.

  Harkness and Diane had drawn near. In a far corner of the little roomSchwartzmann had motioned to Kreiss to join him
; they were as far awayfrom the others as could be managed. Schwartzmann, Chet judged, neededsome scientific explanation of these disturbing events; also heneeded to take the detonite pistol from Kreiss' hand and jam it intohis own hand. His eyes, at Chet's unconscious exclamation, had comewith instant suspicion toward the two men.

  "Forty-seven hours, Walt," the pilot said, and repeated it loudly forSchwartzmann's benefit; "--forty-seven hours before we return to thisspot. We are driving out into space; we've crossed the orbit of theDark Moon, and we're doing twenty thousand miles an hour.

  "Now we must decelerate. It will take twenty hours to check us to zerospeed; then twenty-seven more to shoot us back to this same pointin space, allowing, of course, for a second deceleration. The samefiguring with only slight variation will cover a return to the DarkMoon. As we sweep out I can allow for the moon-motion, and we'll hitit at a safe landing speed on the return trip this time."

  * * * * *

  Chet was paying little attention to his companion as he spoke. Hiseyes, instead, were covertly watching the bulky figure ofSchwartzmann. As he finished, their captor shot a volley of questionsat the scientist beside him; he was checking up on the pilot'sremarks.

  Chet was leaning forward to stare intently from a lookout, his headwas close to that of Harkness.

  "Listen, Walt," he whispered; "the Moon's out of sight; it's easy tolose. Maybe I can't find it again, anyway--it's going to take somenice navigating--but I'll miss it by ten thousand miles if you say so,and even the Herr Doktor can't check me on it."

  Chet saw the eyes of Schwartzmann grow intent. He reachedostentatiously for another book of tables, and he seated himself thathe might figure in comfort.

  "Just check me on this," he told Harkness.

  He put down meaningless figures, while the man beside him remainedsilent. Over and over he wrote them--would Harkness never reach adecision?--over and over, until--

  "I don't agree with that," Harkness told him and reached for thestylus in Chet's hand. And, while he appeared to make his own swiftcomputations, there were words instead of figures that flowed from hispen.

  "Only alternative: return to Earth," he wrote. "Then S will hold off;wait in upper levels. Kreiss will give him new bearings. We'll shootout again and do it better next time. Kreiss is nobody's fool. S meansto maroon us on Moon--kill us perhaps. He'll get us there, sure. Wemight as well go now."

  * * * * *

  Chet had seen a movement across the room. "Let's start all overagain," he broke in abruptly. He covered the writing with a cleansheet of paper where he set down more figures. He was well under waywhen Schwartzmann's quick strides brought him towering above them.Again the detonite pistol was in evidence; its small black muzzlemoved steadily from Harkness to Chet.

  "For your life--such as is left of it--you may thank Herr DoktorKreiss," he told Chet. "I thought at first you would have attempted tokill us." His smile, as he regarded them, seemed to Chet to beentirely evil. "You were near death twice, my dear Herr Bullard; andthe danger is not entirely removed.

  "'Forty-seven hours' you have said; in forty-seven hours you will landus on the Dark Moon. If you do not,"--he raised the pistolsuggestively--"remember that the pilot, Max, can always take us backto Earth. You are not indispensable."

  Chet looked at the dark face and its determined and ominous scowl."You're a cheerful sort of soul, aren't you?" he demanded. "Do youhave any faint idea of what a job this is? Do you know we will shootanother two hundred thousand miles straight out before I can checkthis ship? Then we come back; and meanwhile the Dark Moon has gone onits way. Had you thought that there's a lot of room to get lost in outhere?"

  "Forty-seven hours!" said Schwartzmann. "I would advise that you donot lose your way."

  Chet shot one quizzical glance at Harkness.

  "That," he said, "makes it practically unanimous."

  Schwartzmann, with an elaborate show of courtesy, escorted DianeDelacouer to a cabin where she might rest. At a questioning lookbetween Diane and Harkness, their captor reassured them.

  "Mam'selle shall be entirely safe," he said. "She may join you herewhenever she wishes. As for you,"--he was speaking to Harkness--"Iwill permit you to stay here. I could tie you up but this iss notnecessary."

  And Harkness must have agreed that it was indeed unnecessary, foreither Kreiss or Max, or some other of Schwartzmann's men, was at hisside continuously from that moment on.

  * * * * *

  Chet would have liked a chance for a quiet talk and an exchange ofideas. It seemed that somewhere, somehow, he should be able to find ananswer to their problem. He stared moodily out into the blacknessahead, where a distant star was seemingly their goal. Harkness stoodat his side or paced back and forth in the little room, until he threwhimself, at last, upon a cot.

  And always the great stern-blast roared; muffled by the insulatedwalls, its unceasing thunder came at last to be unheard. To the pilotthere was neither sound nor motion. His directional sights wereunswervingly upon that distant star ahead. Seemingly they weresuspended, helpless and inert, in a black void. But for the occasionalglowing masses of strange living substance that flashed past in thisocean of space, he must almost have believed they were motionless--adead ship in a dead, black night.

  But the luminous things flashed and were gone--and their coming,strangely, was from astern; they flicked past and vanished up ahead.And, by this, Chet knew that their tremendous momentum was unchecked.Though he was using the great stern blast to slow the ship, it wasdriving stern-first into outer space. Nor, for twenty hours, was therea change, more than a slackening of the breathless speed with whichthe lights went past.

  Twenty hours--and then Chet knew that they were in all truth hungmotionless, and he prayed that his figures that told him this werecorrect.... More timeless minutes, an agony of waiting--and adimly-glowing mass that was ahead approached their bow, swung off andvanished far astern. And, with its going, Chet knew that the returntrip was begun.

  He gave Harkness the celestial bearing marks and relinquished thehelm. "Full speed ahead as you are," he ordered: "then atnineteen-forty on W.S. time, we'll cut it and ease on bow repulsion tothe limit."

  And, despite the strangeness of their surroundings, the ceaseless,murmuring roar of the exhaust, the weird world outside, where endlessspace was waiting for man's exploration--despite the deadly menacethat threatened, Chet dropped his head upon his outflung arms andslept.

  * * * * *

  To his sleep-drugged brain it was scarcely a moment until a hand wasdragging at his shoulder.

  "Forty-seven hours!" the voice of Schwartzmann was saying.

  And: "Some navigating!" Harkness was exclaiming in flatteringamazement. "Wake up, Chet! Wake up! The Dark Moon's in sight. You'vehit it on the nose, old man: she isn't three points off the sights!"

  The bow-blast was roaring full on. Ahead of them Chet's sleepy eyesfound a circle of violet; and he rubbed his eyes savagely that hemight take his bearings on Sun and Earth.

  As it had been before, the Earth was a giant half-moon; like amirror-sphere it shot to them across the vast distance the reflectedglory of the sun. But the globe ahead was a ghostly world. Its blackdisk was lost in the utter blackness of space. It was a circle, markedonly by the absence of star-points and by the halo of violet glow thatedged it about.

  Chet cut down the repelling blast. He let the circle enlarge, thenswung the ship end for end in mid-space that the more powerful sternexhaust might be ready to counteract the gravitational pull of the newworld.

  Again those impalpable clouds surrounded them. Here was the envelopinggas that made this a dark moon--the gas, if Harkness' theory wascorrect, that let the sun's rays pass unaltered; that took the lightthrough freely to illumine this globe, but that barred its returnpassage as reflected light.

  Black--dead black was the void into which they were plunging, untilthe darkness gave
way before a gentle glow that enfolded their ship.The golden light enveloped them in growing splendor. Through everylookout it was flooding the cabin with brilliant rays, until, frombelow them, directly astern of the ship, where the thundering blastchecked their speed of descent, emerged a world.

  * * * * *

  And, to Chet Bullard, softly fingering the controls of the first shipof space--to Chet Bullard, whose uncanny skill had brought the tinyspeck that was their ship safely back from the dark recesses of theunknown--there came a thrill that transcended any joy of the firstexploration.

  Here was water in great seas of unreal hue--and those seas were his!Vast continents, ripe for adventure and heavy with treasure--and they,too, were his! His own world--his and Diane's and Walt's! Who was thisman, Schwartzmann, that dared dream of violating their possessions?

  A slender tube pressed firmly, uncompromisingly, into his back to givethe answer to his question. "Almost I wish you had missed it!" HerrSchwartzmann was saying. "But now you will land; you will set us downin some place that you know. No tricks, Herr Bullard! You are clever,but not clever enough for that. We will land, yess, where you know itis safe."

  From the lookout, the man stared for a moment with greedy eyes; thenbrought his gaze back to the three. His men, beside Harkness andDiane, were alert; the scientist, Kreiss, stood close to Chet.

  "A nice little world," Schwartzmann told them. "Herr Harkness, youhave filed claims on it; who am I to dispute with the great HerrHarkness? Without question it iss yours!"

  He laughed loudly, while his eyes narrowed between creasing wrinklesof flesh. "You shall enjoy it," he told them; "--all your life."

  And Chet, as he caught the gaze of Harkness and Diane, wondered howlong this enjoyment would last. "All your life!" But this was ratherindefinite as a measure of time.

  CHAPTER V

  _A Desperate Act_

  The ship that Chet Bullard and Harkness had designed had none of theinstruments for space navigation that the ensuing years were to bring.Chet's accuracy was more the result of that flyer's sixth sense--thatsame uncanny power that had served aviators so well in an earlier day.But Chet was glad to see his instruments registering once more as heapproached a new world.

  Even the sonoflector was recording; its invisible rays were dartingdownward to be reflected back again from the surface below. Thatabsolute altitude recording was a joy to read; it meant a definiterelationship with the world.

  "I'll hold her at fifty thousand," he told Harkness. "Watch for someoutline that you can remember from last time."

  There was an irregular area of continental size; only when they hadcrossed it did Harkness point toward an outflung projection of land."That peninsula," he exclaimed; "we saw that before! Swing south andinland.... Now down forty, and east of south.... This ought to be thespot."

  Perhaps Harkness, too, had the flyer's indefinable power oforientation. He guided Chet in the downward flight, and his pointingfinger aimed at last at a cluster of shadows where a setting sunbrought mountain ranges into strong relief. Chet held the ship steady,hung high in the air, while the quick-spreading mantle of night sweptacross the world below. And, at last, when the little world wasdeep-buried in shadow, they saw the red glow of fires from a hiddenvalley in the south.

  "Fire Valley!" said Chet. "Don't say anything about me being anavigator. Wait, you've brought us home, sure enough."

  "Home!" He could not overcome this strange excitement of a home-comingto their own world. Even the man who stood, pistol in hand, behind himwas, for the moment, forgotten.

  Valley of a thousand fires!--scene of his former adventures! Eachfumerole was adding its smoky red to the fiery glow that illumined theplace. There were ragged mountains hemming it in; Chet's gaze passedon to the valley's end.

  Down there, where the fires ceased, there would be water; he wouldland there! And the ship from Earth slipped down in a long slantingline to cushion against its under exhausts, whose soft thunder echoedback from a bare expanse of frozen lava. Then its roaring faded. Thesilvery shape sank softly to its rocky bed, as Chet cut the motor thathad sung its song of power since the moment when Schwartzmann hadcarried him off--taken him from that frozen, forgotten corner of anincredibly distant Earth.

  * * * * *

  "Iss there air?" Schwartzmann demanded. Chet came to himself againwith a start: he saw the man peering from the lookout to right and toleft as if he would see all that there was in the last light of day.

  "Strange!" he was grumbling to himself. "A strange place! But thosehills--I saw their markings--there will be metals there. I willexplore; later I return: I will mine them. Many ships I must build toestablish a line. The first transportation line of space. Me, JacobSchwartzmann--I will do it. I will haff more than anyone else onEarth; I will make them all come to me crawling on their bellies!"

  Chet saw the hard shine of the narrowed eyes. For an instant only, hedared to consider the chance of leaping upon the big, gloating figure.One blow and a quick snatch for the pistol!... Then he knew the follyof such a plan: Schwartzmann's men were armed; he would be downed inanother second, his body a shattered, jellied mass.

  Schwartzmann's thoughts had come back to the matter of air; hemotioned Chet and Harkness toward the port.

  Diane Delacouer had joined them and she thrust herself quickly betweenthe two men. And, though Schwartzmann made a movement as if he wouldsnatch her back, he thought better of it and motioned for the portalto be swung. Chet felt him close behind as he followed the others outinto the gathering dark.

  * * * * *

  The air was heavy with the fragrance of night-blooming trees. Theywere close to the edge of the lava flow. The rock was black in thelight of a starry sky; it dropped away abruptly to a lower glade. Astream made silvery sparklings in the night, while beyond it werewaving shadows of strange trees whose trunks were ghostly white.

  It was all so familiar.... Chet smiled understandingly as he saw WaltHarkness' arm go about the trim figure of Diane Delacouer. No mannishattire could disguise Diane's charms; nor could nerve and cold couragethat any man might envy detract from her femininity. Her dark, curlinghair was blowing back from her upraised face as the scented breezesplayed about her; and the soft beauty of that face was enhanced by thevery starlight that revealed it.

  It was here that Walt and Diane had learned to love; what wonder thatthe fragrant night brought only remembrance, and forgetfulness oftheir present plight. But Chet Bullard, while he saw them and smiledin sympathy, knew suddenly that other eyes were watching, too; he feltthe bulky figure of Herr Schwartzmann beside him grow tense and rigid.

  But Schwartzmann's voice, when he spoke, was controlled. "All right,"he called toward the ship; "all iss safe."

  Yet Chet wondered at that sudden tensing, and an uneasy presentimentfound entrance to his thoughts. He must keep an eye on Schwartzmann,even more than he had supposed.

  Their captor had threatened to maroon them on the Dark Moon. Chet didnot question his intent. Schwartzmann would have nothing to gain bykilling them now. It would be better to leave them here, for he mightfind them useful later on. But did he plan to leave them all or onlytwo? Behind the steady, expressionless eyes of the Master Pilot,strange thoughts were passing....

  * * * * *

  There were orders, at length, to return to the ship. "It is darkalready," Schwartzmann concluded: "nothing can be accomplished atnight."

  "How long are the days and nights?" he asked Harkness.

  "Six hours," Harkness told him; "our little world spins fast."

  "Then for six hours we sleep," was the order. And again HerrSchwartzmann conducted Mademoiselle Delacouer to her cabin, while ChetBullard watched until he saw the man depart and heard the click of thelock on the door of Diane's room.

  Then for six hours he listened to the sounds of sleeping men who weresprawled about him on the floor; for six hours he saw the o
ne man whosat on guard beside a light that made any thought of attack absurd.And he cursed himself for a fool, as he lay wakeful and vainlyplanning--a poor, futile fool who was unable to cope with this man whohad bested him.

  Nineteen seventy-three!--and here were Harkness and Diane and himself,captured by a man who was mentally and morally a misfit in a modernworld. A throw-back--that was Schwartzmann: Harkness had said it. Hebelonged back in nineteen fourteen.

  Harkness was beyond the watching guard; from where he lay came soundsof restless movement. Chet knew that he was not alone in this mood ofhopeless dejection. There was no opportunity for talk; only with thecoming of day did the two find a chance to exchange a few quick words.

  The guard roused the others at the first light of sunlight beyond theports. Harkness sauntered slowly to where Chet was staring from alookout. He, too, leaned to see the world outside, and he spokecautiously in a half-whisper:

  "Not a chance, Chet. No use trying to bluff this big crook any more.He's here, and he's safe; and he knows it as well as we do. We'll lethim ditch us--you and Diane and me. Then, when we're on our own, we'llwatch our chance. He will go crazy with what he finds--may getcareless--then we'll seize the ship--" His words ended abruptly. AsSchwartzmann came behind them, he was casually calling Chet'sattention to a fumerole from which a jet of vapor had appeared.Yellowish, it was; and the wind was blowing it.

  Chet turned away; he hardly saw Schwartzmann or heard Harkness' words.He was thinking of what Walt had said. Yes, it was all they could do;there was no chance of a fight with them now. But later!

  Diane Delacouer came into the control-room at the instant; her darkeyes were still lovely with sleep, but they brightened to flash anencouraging smile toward the two men. There were five ofSchwartzmann's men in the ship besides the pilot and the scientist,Kreiss. They all crowded in after Diane.

  They must have had their orders in advance; Schwartzmann merelynodded, and they sprang upon Harkness and Chet. The two were caughtoff their guard; their arms were twisted behind them before resistancecould be thought of. Diane gave a cry, started forward, and wasbrushed back by a sweep of Schwartzmann's arm. The man himself stoodstaring at them, unmoving, wordless. Only the flesh about his eyesgathered into creases to squeeze the eyes to malignant slits. Therewas no mistaking the menace in that look.

  * * * * *

  "I think we do not need you any more," he said at last. "I think, HerrHarkness, this is the end of our little argument--and, Herr Harkness,you lose. Now, I will tell you how it iss that you pay.

  "You haff thought, perhaps, I would kill you. But you were wrong, asyou many times have been. You haff not appreciated my kindness; youhaff not understood that mine iss a heart of gold.

  "Even I was not sure before we came what it iss best to do. But now Iknow. I saw oceans and many lands on this world. I saw islands inthose oceans.

  "You so clever are--such a great thinker iss Herr Harkness--and on oneof those islands you will haff plenty of time to think--yess! You canthink of your goot friend, Schwartzmann and of his kindness to you."

  "You are going to maroon us on an island?" asked Walt Harknesshoarsely. Plainly his plans for seizing the ship were going awry. "Youare going to put the three of us off in some lost corner of thisworld?"

  Chet Bullard was silent until he saw the figure of Harkness strugglingto throw off his two guards. "Walt," he called loudly, "take it easy!For God's sake, Walt, keep your head!"

  This, Chet sensed, was no time for resistance. Let Schwartzmann goahead with his plans; let him think them complacent and unresisting;let Max pilot the ship; then watch for an opening when they could landa blow that would count! He heard Schwartzmann laughing now, laughingas if he were enjoying something more pleasing than the struggles ofWalt.

  * * * * *

  Chet was standing by the controls. The metal instrument-table wasbeside him; above it was the control itself, a metal ball that hungsuspended in air within a cage of curved bars.

  It was pure magic, this ball-control, where magnetic fields crossedand recrossed; it was as if the one who held it were a genie who couldthrow the ship itself where he willed. Glass almost enclosed the cageof bars, and the whole instrument swung with the self-compensatingplatform that adjusted itself to the "gravitation" of acceleratedspeed. The pilot, Max, had moved across to the instrument-table, readyfor the take-off.

  Schwartzmann's laughter died to a gurgling chuckle. He wiped his eyesbefore he replied to Harkness' question.

  "Leave you," he said, "in one place? _Nein!_ One here, the otherthere. A thousand miles apart, it might be. And not all three of you.That would be so unkind--"

  He interrupted himself to call to Kreiss who was opening the port.

  "No," he ordered; "keep it closed. We are not going outside; we aregoing up."

  But Kreiss had the port open. "I want a man to get some fresh water,"he said; "he will only be a minute."

  He shoved at a waiting man to hurry him through the doorway. It wasonly a gentle push; Chet wondered as he saw the man stagger and graspat his throat. He was coughing--choking horribly for an instantoutside the open port--then fell to the ground, while his legs jerkedawkwardly, spasmodically.

  Chet saw Kreiss follow. The scientist would have leaped to the side ofthe stricken man, whose body was so still now on the sunlit rock; buthe, too, crumpled, then staggered back into the room. He pushed feeblyat the port and swung it shut. His face, as he turned, was drawn intofearful lines.

  "Acid!" He choked out the words between strangled breaths."Acid--sulfuric--fumes!"

  * * * * *

  Chet turned quickly to the spectro-analyzer; the lines of oxygen andnitrogen were merged with others, and that meant an atmosphere unfitfor human lungs! There had been a fumerole where yellowish vapor wasspouting; he remembered it now.

  "So!" boomed Schwartzmann, and now his squinting eyes were full onChet. "You--you _schwein!_ You said when we opened the ports therewould be a surprise! Und this iss it! You thought to see us killourselves!"

  "Open the port!" he shouted. The men who held Chet released him andsprang forward to obey. The pilot, Max, took their place. He put onehand on Chet's shoulder, while his other hand brought up athreatening, metal bar.

  Schwartzmann's heavy face had lost its stolid look; it was alive withrage. He thrust his head forward to glare at the men, while he stoodfirmly, his feet far apart, two heavy fists on his hips. He whirledabruptly and caught Diane by one arm. He pulled her roughly to him andencircled the girl's trim figure with one huge arm.

  "Put you _all_ on one island?" he shouted. "Did you think I would putyou _all_ out of the ship? You"--he pointed at Harkness--"andyou"--this time it was Chet--"go out now. You can die in your damnedgas that you expected would kill me! But, you fools, youimbeciles--Mam'selle, she stays with me!" The struggling girl washelpless in the great arm that drew her close.

  Harkness' mad rage gave place to a dead stillness. From bloodless lipsin a chalk-white face he spat out one sentence:

  "Take your filthy hands off her--now--or I'll--"

  Schwartzmann's one free hand still held the pistol. He raised it withdeadly deliberation; it came level with Harkness' unflinching eyes.

  "Yes?" said Schwartzmann. "You will do--what?"

  * * * * *

  Chet saw the deadly tableau. He knew with a conviction that grippedhis heart that here was the end. Walt would die and he would be next.Diane would be left defenseless.... The flashing thought that followedcame to him as sharply as the crack of any pistol. It seemed to burstinside his brain, to lift him with some dynamic power of its own andproject him into action.

  He threw himself sideways from under the pilot's hand, out frombeneath the heavy metal bar--and he whirled, as he leaped, to face theman. One lean, brown hand clenched to a fist that started a longswing from somewhere near his knees; it shot upward to crash beneaththe pilot's out-thru
st jaw and lift him from the floor. Max had aimedthe bar in a downward sweep where Chet's head had been the momentbefore; and now man and bar went down together. In the same instantChet threw himself upon the weapon and leaped backward to his feet.

  One frozen second, while, to Chet, the figures seemed as motionless asif carved from stone--two men beside the half-opened port--Harkness inconvulsive writhing between two others--the figure of Diane, strained,tense and helpless in Schwartzmann's grasp--and Schwartzmann, whoseaim had been disturbed, steadying the pistol deliberately uponHarkness--

  "Wait!" Chet's voice tore through the confusion. He knew he must gripSchwartzmann's attention--hold that trigger finger that was tensed tosend a detonite bullet on its way. "Wait, damn you! I'll answer yourquestion. I'll tell you what we'll do!"

  In that second he had swung the metal bar high; now he brought itcrashing down in front of him. Schwartzmann flinched, half turned asif to fire at Chet, and saw the blow was not for him.

  With a splintering crash, the bar went through an obstruction. Therewas sound of glass that slivered to a million mangled bits--the sharptang of metal broken off--a crash and clatter--then silence, save forone bit of glass that fell belatedly to the floor, its tiny jinglingcrash ringing loud in the deathly stillness of the room....

  It had been the control-room, this place of metal walls and ofshining, polished instruments, and it could be called that no longer.For, battered to useless wreckage, there lay on a metal table a cagethat had once been formed of curving bars. Among the fragments a metalball that had guided the great ship still rocked idly from its fall,until it, too, was still.

  It was a room where nothing moved--where no person so much asbreathed....

  Then came the Master Pilot's voice, and it was speaking with quietfinality.

  "And that," he said, "is your answer. Our ship has made its lastflight."

  His eyes held steadily upon the blanched face of Herr Schwartzmann,whose limp arms released the body of Diane; the pistol hung weakly atthe man's side. And the pilot's voice went on, so quiet, so hushed--socuriously toneless in that silent room.

  "What was it that you said?--that Harkness and I would be stayinghere? Well, you were right when you said that, Schwartzmann; but it'sa hard sentence, that--imprisonment for life."

  Chet paused now, to smile deliberately, grimly at the dark face sobleached and bloodless, before he repeated:

  "Imprisonment for life!--and you didn't know that you were sentencingyourself. For you're staying too, Schwartzmann, you contemptible,thieving dog! You're staying with us--here--on the Dark Moon!"

  (_To be continued._)