Part 5

He called the men together and assigned them to posts at the furnaces, where they continued to turn out the metal that would be fashioned into the super rocket-tubes. Earth was massing its fleet and Venus was mobilizing. Mark realized that if a truce could not be called, they would need every one of the outlaw Spacers on the asteroid, and others as well. He took a few of the men with him to the arsenal, where they began to get every available weapon in readiness for the Tri-Planetary showdown that was sure to come.

* * * * *

"Tell the men to stop work," Aladdian said to Mark two days later, "then bring them to the laboratory. They have as much right as we to know what is happening. I have been working on the ethero-magnum sender, and I shall try to contact both Venus and Earth."

They gathered in the magnificent laboratory George Marnik had erected. Here, various machines were arranged in preponderant array, but all were dwarfed by the imposing ethero-magnum in the center of the room. Hidden atomomotors hummed a smooth and powerful threnody. The control panel, as tall as Aladdian herself, connected to huge coils of radical design which themselves led to the televise, a huge sensitized sheet of metal reaching clear up to the ceiling.

Carston, an Earth patriot to the end, watched these activities with misgivings. But he was silent, curiously so, and Mark wondered at it.

Mark was soon to know the reason for Carston's silence, and to realize that the Earth official did not give up so easily....

"I want you all to stand back against the walls," Aladdian said, "out of range of the televise. Luhor may pick this up, and he must not know there is anyone here but me."

She operated the dials quickly, surely, with tendril-like fingers. A faint, far away voice was heard droning monotonously. "Earth is sending to Venus now," Aladdian said, never once removing her gaze from the dancing dials before her. "If I can intercept the Earth beam, I can get my message to Venus through that channel, by drowning them out. I did it once before."

The sound of the voice increased, and words became distinguishable. They were haranguing, dictatorial--undoubtedly one of the Earth Council speaking to Venus. At the same time the huge metallic sheet above Aladdian's head took on a silvery glow, and a wavering scene began to appear. The scene was a crowded city square, with thousands of faces upturned to a televise screen atop one of the buildings.

"That is N'Vaarl, Capitol City of Venus," Aladdian murmured. "They are listening to the Earth broadcast. Now I will let them see me." Automatically her hand reached out, and grasped a lever which she threw downward. The atomomotors shrieked as they absorbed the increased power, and soon the sound rose above the audible. At the same time the Earth voice was drowned out, and the scene at N'Vaarl became very clear to the watchers in the room.

On the huge public televise screen at N'Vaarl, the image of Aladdian, Princess of Venus and daughter of Bedrim the Liberator, became visible. The crowd did not cheer, but awaited her message, knowing that at any moment the Earth would throw off the beam when it realized what was happening.

"Greetings, my people!" Aladdian spoke quickly. "As I told you before, Earth is mobilizing its fleet and I know that you are preparing for any contingency. That is well, but I entreat you not to act in any manner until you have heard further from me! There is a greater danger than that of Earth! I am safe and well, I cannot come to you now, but soon--"

* * * * *

In that moment the Earth beam ceased, and the scene on the televise blanked out. Aladdian turned with a satisfied smile to Mark and Cynthia and the others. "It is enough that they saw me. My people will not act now without word from me. I hope I shall never have to give that word."

"Aladdian," Mark spoke worriedly, "isn't it a risk for you to broadcast at all? The Earth Government doesn't know your present whereabouts, but if they were to send out tracer beams and learn you were operating from Vulcan ... well, it's true that no Patrol ship is equipped to land on Vulcan, but they could bottle us up here--"

Ernest Carston, who had been silent but eternally watchful, became suddenly tense at Mark's words.

"They _have_ sent out tracer beams," Aladdian replied, "but with this instrument I can neutralize them all." Fondly she touched the ethero-magnum by her side. "Anyway, the immediate danger is not from Earth, but from Luhor. Let us not forget that! And I must warn Earth, must make them understand."

She turned to the dialed panel again, and even as her fingers made swift connections, she continued to speak. "It may not be easy to establish a direct channel from here to Earth, but I think I have completed a new trans-telector beam on which George Marnik was working. It should do away with the magnetic disturbance caused by our close proximity to the sun. We shall see."

Again the atomomotors whined and ascended the scale. This time, there was a new exultant note. Minutes passed, then the overhead screen began to take on a hazy, shifting blur. Aladdian's fingers moved unerringly on the dials. The blur came suddenly, sharply into focus.

Carston, standing against the far wall next to Mark Denning, leaned tensely forward, his eyes aglow. The scene on the televise was the Earth Council. Carston almost leaped forward in his excitement, but Mark gripped his arm tightly.

Aladdian was speaking to the Council. In slow, matter-of-fact tones she told of George Marnik, of the new metal, of Luhor and Luhor's plans. She told of the asteroid and the fleet being assembled there, without revealing the asteroid's position. She described the properties of the new metal but was careful not to hint of its source.

"I seek to warn you," Aladdian's voice came fervent and clear. "You are plunging into disaster. It is not my people I think of now, but the Tri-Planet Federation! If you continue to mobilize your fleet I am not sure I can control the Irreconcilables among my people--I certainly cannot control Dar Vaajo of Mars, who is headstrong beyond reason. It will mean an hecatomb in space, with Luhor holding his asteroid in readiness for the final blow!"

"This Luhor and the formidable asteroid of which you speak," came the cold, sneering voice of the Earth Coordinator. "Tell us more of them. Give us the location of the asteroid."

Aladdian hesitated for an instant. "No. That I cannot do."

"You cannot, because no such asteroid and no such metal exists! You would try to frighten us with this story of a demon asteroid and a super space fleet! It would not be that you seek to gain time for your people to rally to you, now that they know you have escaped the Prison Swamp? Or perhaps you need time in which to coordinate your resources with those of Dar Vaajo of Mars! Let us advise you, Aladdian, that within a week the main body of our fleet will be at Venus, and it will not go well with your Irreconcilables. We shall know how to handle them this time, we shall not be so lenient as before! Perhaps, in order to spare them, you will wish to give yourself up to us, daughter of Bedrim!"

Aladdian's slender body grew taut as though struck by a whip lash. With a single sweep of the control lever she cut off the beam. Dazedly she crossed the room, oblivious to the murmurs of the others; her usually alabaster face was now chalk white beneath her curling blue-black hair, her lips were pressed tight but they trembled nevertheless.

At the laboratory door Mark caught her arm, walked beside her. "Aladdian," he choked. "I--"

She became aware of him then, smiled up at him through her bitterness.

"Aladdian, I am--I just wanted to say--I'm sorry I'm an Earthman!"

She stopped suddenly, faced him, took one of his hands in both of hers. "No, Mark! Do not say that, do not ever say it. For you are more than that ... much more...."

IX

It was night, and the overhead lights in the corridors were dimmed. Ernest Carston tossed restlessly in his bed. He could not sleep, he had been unable to sleep since seeing and hearing the Earth Council on the ethero-magnum.

Carston arose, and dressed quickly. Silently he crossed the room to the outer door, and stepped out into the corridor. He paced slowly, aimlessly, his brow knit in deep thought. Finally he made a decision, and turned his footsteps in the direction of the palace and the laboratory. He was still an Earth official; he had known all the time that he would have to take matters here into his own hands.

Before he reached the corridor leading to the laboratory, however, he heard the soft shuffle of footsteps. Carston leaped back into the shadows just as a lone figure emerged from one of the transverse corridors. It passed very close to him, and he saw that it was Cynthia Marnik; her face seemed very white, and her steps were hurried.

Carston's heart quickened a pace, as he followed her at a safe distance, keeping to the shadows. She continued along the main corridor, past the men's quarters and past the furnaces. With a shock, Carston realized she was heading for the outer air-lock.

He reached there in time to see the huge door slide open, then Cynthia stepped through, and the door closed. Carston waited, giving her time to leave the tunnel, before he followed. Finally he entered the tunnel himself, having long since learned how to operate the mechanism of these doors. Cynthia was gone; the outer doors were closed.

Carston hurried down the long tunnel. The magnetic degravitizing coils along each side were silent now, would remain so until the Spacer's return. Carston reached the racks of vacuum suits near the outer door, quickly donned one and was soon outside the Base.

Against the sun-swept horizon, a hundred yards away, he could easily discern Cynthia's metal-encased figure. She kept close to the shadows at the foot of the low lying cliffs. Not once did she look back. A quarter of a mile further, she turned sharply, entered a narrow, steep-walled canyon.

Puzzled, Carston hurried forward. He reached the canyon and entered it, realizing that this must be one of the few places on Vulcan's surface where there was anything simulating night; it wasn't really dark, but sort of a twilight gloom between the rock cliffs sheering upward.

And he saw Cynthia. She hadn't gone far. Her vacuum-suited figure stood very still, and she seemed to be staring up at the immensity of space. Carston crept closer, came very near indeed, until he could see the profiled whiteness of her face beneath the helmet.

Carston stared too, following her gaze. At first he didn't see a thing. Then, high on the horizon, out of the sun's glare, right between the canyon walls ... he caught the bright blue glint of a star. He suddenly realized what it was, and with a sharp intake of breath he whispered: "Earth!"

* * * * *

She must have had her helmet phones on. She turned slowly to face him, and Carston was startled at the clear-cut radiance of her face.

"It's the Earth, yes ... it's beautiful. There's no other place on this planet where you can see it like that, and then only when the position is right. Sometimes not for months...."

Carston stepped quickly to her side. Cynthia averted her face, but not before he saw the glint of tears in her eyes, and the lengthening glimmer of one that rolled down her cheek beneath the transparent helmet.

For an instant, Carston was dumbfounded. Then a vast exultation surged within him. "I knew it!" he whispered fiercely. "Almost from the first moment I saw you, I sensed there was something artificial beneath your mask of hardness. This is it! You don't hate Earth at all, Cynthia, you've never hated it!"

"Yes," she spoke softly, her voice deepening. "I've never hated Earth. It was only father--" Abruptly she stopped, and her gaze strayed to where the blue star shone like an aquamarine ablaze. "I can't remember clearly; it's like a vague dream--but I have a dim vision of green fields and golden light, and clouds in an unreal blue sky; and trees beside a wide lake, with a crisp tang of air, different from the air here. To me, that's Earth. I was born there." Her voice faded, and as if from a great distance Carston heard her say, "Oh perhaps it's just a dream."

"No, it's not a dream," Carston whispered, standing very close to her now. "It's part of you, it belongs to you! All Earthians feel that out here, a yearning to get back. Cynthia, I've loved you from the very first ... didn't you know? Let me take you back with me, out of this madness that can only mean death for us all!" He stopped, at the sight of her upturned face, white and wan.

"I guessed. Yes, I know. I've been waiting a long time to hear you say this. And I'd go with you, Carston, but how is it possible now? My life's forfeit, you yourself said so!"

Now Carston was very sure of himself. "No, my dear," he said softly, trying to filter the triumph from his voice. "Your life's not forfeit if you help prevent the carnage and destruction that Aladdian's mad dream will bring about. She doesn't know, she _can't_ know the awful power of Earth's fleet. Luhor's vaunted super-cruisers will be so many leaves scattered in the void. This allotropic metal on which his hope of invincibility is based, can be neutralized and destroyed!"

"But how? What can we do?" Cynthia's voice held a note of despair, as her hand unconsciously went out to his.

"We can give Earth the location of Luhor's asteroid, and the secret of Vulcan!" He said it so softly, so insinuatingly that it was little more than a thought. "I can promise you an absolute pardon, my dear--more! I can promise you honor for aiding Earth. The Council knows how to reward, as it knows how to punish."

"But Aladdian and Mark? Would it not mean death, or worse, for them both?" She shuddered, as a vision of the Swamp came before her eyes. "I could never condemn them to that," she thought aloud.

"With my influence, I can get amnesty for them--leniency at least," Carston said with the glibness of one to whom nothing mattered but the ultimate task that must be accomplished at all costs. "All Earth wants is to avoid another war. If we make it possible for Earth's fleet to capture Luhor and neutralize the asteroid, I'm certain the Council will pardon Aladdian and Mark." He pressed her hand confidently in both of his.

She seemed to hesitate, but Carston knew she had already made up her mind. "If you're sure you can obtain the pardon--and stop this senseless war--yes--yes, my dear, I'll give the Earth Council any information you wish--"

Her voice dwindled and stopped as Carston took her into his arms. He, himself, was white and trembling with the reaction of having accomplished his task. Over her shoulder he could see the twinkling blue dot of Earth. He smiled, and it was a very smug smile. His breath was long and trembling, but his intense emotion at the moment was _not_ akin to love.

X

"Soon, now."

Carston's murmur echoed eerily against the shrill hum of the atomomotors in the upper scales. The phantasmal glow of the selector screens suffused the chamber. Selenic cells poured additional power into the trans-telector beam as Cynthia's fingers trembled over the shining dials. Carston, standing beside her, was white-faced and tense.

Slowly a shifting blur materialized on the huge televise of the ethero-magnum. It focused, and the thin-lipped, ascetic features of the Earth Coordinator materialized in the immense Council room of Earth. The Council in full session surrounded him. All were intent on their receiving screens, on which Carston and Cynthia were reflected.

Cynthia stepped nervously aside, and Carston came forward. He bowed low. Then his voice, hoarse with uncontrollable elation, rose in greeting.

"Your Beneficence, and Elders of the Council! I am speaking from _Vulcan_, the long-sought base of Captain George Marnik, where I have been a prisoner for many months! But no longer. This," he gestured hesitantly, "is Cynthia, George Marnik's daughter, for whom I beseech the Coordinator's and the Council's clemency for the service she is about to do."

Then in slow and measured words Carston told in detail all that had happened, beginning with his own release from the Swamp by Cynthia, relating Luhor's murder of Marnik, and finally telling of the asteroid where Luhor's space cruisers were being assembled, and of the new allotropic metal being mined on Vulcan. Then he motioned for Cynthia to come forward.

The Coordinator had listened in silence, his grim face impassive. Every eye in the Council room was unwaveringly on the screen, and the silence lay heavy between two distant worlds. Slowly, Cynthia walked toward the ethero-magnum sender, a sheaf of note paper in her hand. She smiled wanly, but confidently at Carston. Then in a colorless voice she read her mathematical figures giving the position of the asteroid in space, and the formula for the shortest approach from Vulcan, as the key for computation of the trajectory from Earth. Without animation, she gave the formula for the allotropic metal process, and the secret of the entrance to Vulcan.

Then she fell silent. As if she didn't know what to do, she turned to Carston and caught for a fleeting instant the smug smile of triumph on his lips; but before she could comprehend its meaning, it was gone.

"Will ... will I be pardoned?" Cynthia questioned aloud, more to Carston than to the Coordinator on the screen.

But the silence in the Council room of Earth persisted, as busy mathematicians already were furiously computing the mathematical formulae. A thin, contemptuous smile had parted the Coordinator's lips. It was the first time Carston had ever seen him smile, and the room where he and Cynthia stood, although millions of miles distant, seemed colder suddenly as that glacial glimmer came through the screen.

Carston opened his lips to speak. "Your Beneficence," he began--

* * * * *

But suddenly, catapulted from the deepening darkness of the corridors, an azure-winged figure with curved hands outstretched fell like an avenging fury upon Carston's back! Dainty hands, suddenly transformed into claws, dug like spikes of steel; a supple body too ethereal for strength, now seemed made of metal as the Venusian girl attacked him with a savagery that brought every man of Earth's distant Council room to his feet!

Close on her heels Mark Denning had barely time to separate the tangled figures. Carston's face dripped blood where Aladdian's fingernails had furrowed deep. Cynthia seemed rooted to the spot. So incredibly swift had it been, that the battle was over in seconds. Aladdian's eyes were pools of fire as she faced the Council. Her streaming hair seemed to shimmer as she spat her venom into the screen.

"Very well, send your space fleet, you clumsy fools! Let your madness condemn the planets to a bath of blood! Yes, you have the formula for the allotropic metal--but what good is it to you without a source of supply? You have the location of the asteroid--but do you suppose your fleet can stand against such a mobile fortress as Luhor will make it? But it's a waste of words, I know I can never convince you. Only death and destruction can. But this I do tell you! Never, _never again_ will you enslave Venus! Never again will you imprison me in that inhuman Swamp, and never will you land on Vulcan! For I have one weapon left, one which only we of Venus possess. We have used it once on Mars, once in our history only, for we are not warlike. But before Luhor and the Martian hordes overrun my planet and _yours_ as he certainly can, I will use this weapon, Earthian!"

On the screen, the Coordinator's face was livid. "Arrest her," he said across the immense distance to Carston. "In the name of the Supreme Council of the Tri-Planetary Federation, arrest her! Her life's forfeit!"

But Carston stood motionless, pale as death, suddenly confronted by the grim figure of Mark who gripped an electro-pistol in his hand.

At this veritable moment, out of the void, cutting in on the beam like the disembodied cachination of some strange creature, wave upon wave of gigantic mirth poured on two worlds! And as every participant of this drama stood tense, watching their screens, there slowly emerged the half-breed figure of Luhor, his gargantuan laughter still roaring in uncontrollable paroxysms.

"So that's it!" Luhor managed to choke between spasms. "What entertainment you have provided me with--and what information! And to think, Aladdian, that I'd planned to make you my empress. Why, my little dove has claws!" he exclaimed admiringly. His immense, ugly bulk dominated the entire screen, as his bellowing laughter began again.

The Earth Coordinator, almost beside himself, threw a master switch; the televise screens of two worlds flickered and went blank, the pulsing whine of the atomomotors was like a dirge.

Cynthia passed a trembling hand across her eyes, and her gaze wavered before Aladdian's accusing stare. She glanced briefly at Carston with a slowly dawning wonderment, as if an awareness of his aims had begun to awaken within her.

"I--I'm afraid I've made a mess of things," she said in a slow, deep voice. "Ever since father's death, I seem to have lost my grip. I'm so sorry, Aladdian, I thought it was for the best; Carston assured me we'd be pardoned...." Her voice trailed off as she turned her face away from them all.

"I should burn you!" Mark Denning said to Carston in a cold, tight voice, and Carston went white. "You've managed to wreck our plans about as completely as possible. If the Earth blasts Luhor out of space, we face surrender or slow starvation. If Luhor wins, he can starve us out or blast his way in here with his allotropic cruisers, now that he's forewarned by you. Either way we lose--but I guarantee you, Carston, _you_ won't come out of this easily!" Each word was like ice, and Aladdian nodded slowly at Mark's words, a strange light in her brilliant eyes.

* * * * *

"We haven't lost yet, Mark." With a swift motion she crossed to the ethero-magnum again, and turned it on. "Remember, I have still a weapon. My people are behind me."

"But Venus doesn't have a fleet! Earth has seen to that."

"Wait." Her unerring precision brought the screen to life in a burst of light. A scene took place, alien, exotic--the imperial palace on Venus. A great crowd stood before it in silence, extending into the distance, as if the park-like expanse had become a place of pilgrimage. In eternal vigil all faced the televise screen that rose from the floor level to the top of the palace. Fantastic blue-green mountains filled the background, dwarfing the small fragile figure that materialized on the receiving screen.

"My people, I speak to you for the third, perhaps for the last time--" There was a world of yearning in the cello-like voice as Aladdian opened her arms toward them. A cyclonic roar burst forth in tribute and greeting, but quickly died down as they awaited her message.

"When I last spoke, I told you not to act without word from me. I hoped I would never have to give that word, but now I fear I must. The hour is almost here. What I will ask of you, is the supreme sacrifice. You know what that means. I, too, am prepared to make it. There is no other way. Many will die, but only that the others may avoid an even worse slavery than they now endure, and that we may attain our rightful inheritance, an equal place in the Planetary Federation." The voice rose like a stream of music, and tears were in Aladdian's eyes. "The choice is yours, my people!"