Part 3

Quickly the screen of material was torn from the new ship. A vat of necessary water and a case of food concentrate were hastily carried into the storage chamber. The twenty-four chosen Lyrians took their places. In the pilot cuddy, Standish nodded to Ga-Marr and pulled down the microphone of the ship address-system.

"Close stern hatch!" he ordered.

A dial flicked on the panel before him, and from the loudspeaker a voice answered:

"Hatch closed, sir."

"Close midships-tower."

"Midships-tower closed."

"Gunner's mate!" Standish called. "Test all gun swivels, air locks and automatic loaders."

There was a moment's pause. Then:

"All guns tested, sir."

Standish motioned Ga-Marr to shut the pilot cuddy hatch. But before Ga-Marr could swing the hermetic barrier into position, a lithe figure leaped down the ladder. It was the Earth girl--Thalia.

"I'm going with you," she said. "This is my battle as well as yours."

Standish looked into her defiant black eyes and frowned. But the refusal that rose to his lips died unsounded. He nodded and motioned her to the settee on the far side of the cuddy.

In rotation then, he snapped on the six atomic motors. A dull tremor of life and power shook the ship. Then Standish seized an electro-welder left behind by some workman, flung open the hatch and ran outside to the stern of the ship.

Roughly, while Ga-Marr watched bewildered, he seared the name, _Phantom_, on the _feloranium_ hull. He leaped back to the cuddy, slammed shut the hatch and threw over the acceleration lever.

The huge ship lifted from the field of its birth and roared up into the stratosphere.

VII

It was Standish's plan to permit the six departing Sirian cruisers to cover sufficient distance that they would not associate him--immediately at least--with the plundered planet, Lyra. With unleashed power at his fingertips, he planned to pass his quarry on a higher plane, then circle and return.

The _Phantom_ functioned like a dream. Up through space she bored, annihilating distance, sweeping out into the star fields in hot pursuit. Warm clear air circulated out from the oxygizers. Each dial and gauge told its proper story. Even the heat units, which had not been properly tested, operated smoothly.

Standish pulled down the cosmoscope and surveyed the way ahead. He saw star clusters and constellations. Ahead, tail sweeping out in a blaze of glory, a comet crossed his path. But nowhere did he sight the Sirian cruisers.

"I'm afraid they've got too great a start on us," said Ga-Marr. Thalia drew in her breath sharply.

"That black speck ahead...."

Standish threw over the accelerator another notch and twisted helm sharply. The _Phantom_ answered her controls. The Earthman was maneuvering for position now. Far below him, he saw the six cruisers materialize in his vision.

And then, with a dull roar, the _Phantom_ swung and leaped for the attack.

"They see us!" Thalia cried. "They're going into battle-formation!"

With Drum Faggard's flag ship in the lead, the six cruisers turned and headed toward them in squadron formation. It was evident that they were still unaware of the identity of the black ship. The visiscreen clicked on, and Faggard's face appeared in the panel.

"We are Section one, general Sirian Expeditionary Force, Sirius to Earth, heading for regular interplanetary lanes," he said, following the customary salutation. "Who are you?"

Standish flipped on his own microphone, but disconnected the vision panel so that no return image would be broadcast.

"Destroyer _Phantom_," he replied, muffling his voice. "Captain Ether commanding. Stand by for boarding or we open fire on you."

Faggard's gross face, crimson with rage, flashed back on the screen.

"Are you mad? We are six to your one. From what planet do you come? Show your colors."

"I'll show my colors," Standish muttered, a grim smile playing about his lips. He switched on the ship address system.

"Port gunner. Stand by for shot across enemy's bows. Elevation six. Trajectory five."

There was an excited reply. Standish twisted his helm a fraction of a turn.

"Fire!"

* * * * *

The _Phantom_ recoiled slightly, but there was no sound, no tell-tale streak of flame. Only on the Sirian flagship was there any evidence of what had happened. A gaping hole appeared in the vessel's hull. The ship faltered momentarily. Then, Standish knew, hermetic bulkheads automatically closed, and she swung on a wide arc.

"They're spreading out," Ga-Marr said. "They're going to attack from both sides."

The flagship shot into another plane. The remaining five cruisers surged toward the _Phantom_, firing as they came. Standish saw the strategy and realized he was pitted against no amateur fighter.

He signaled to fire both forward guns, holding his position boldly. At that moment, one of the cruisers attempted a maneuver old in space warfare. Charging head-on toward the _Phantom_, the cruiser's commander sought to frighten Standish into turning broadside.

Thalia uttered a scream. "They're going to ram us!" she cried.

The Earthman nodded. "Let them. If they do, they'll be in for a surprise."

On came the cruiser. The _Phantom_ did not alter her course. And then, at the moment the Sirian realized the ruse had failed, Standish threw his helm, heading directly toward the enemy. The two vessels struck squarely.

In the pilot cuddy Standish, Ga-Marr and Thalia were hurled to the floor. The Earthman struggled erect, helped the girl to her feet.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No, but the ship...."

"Look!" Standish pointed out the port.

A horrible sight met the girl's eyes. The _Phantom's_ stout _feloranium_ sides were unharmed. But the Sirian cruiser had broken into three sections. Even as she watched, figures were catapulted out into space, and the whole mass of debris began to rotate slowly around another enemy ship, forming a macabre satellite.

The remaining four cruisers circled and began to close in.

"All starboard guns," Standish ordered. "Elevation one. Double charge. Fire!"

The recoil was jarring. Two cruisers fell back, rocket motors stilled, huge rents in their forward quarters. And with that, Drum Faggard's flag ship and the other cruiser turned about and fled.

"They've had enough," Ga-Marr exulted.

"Faggard is the one I want," Standish said. "We'll come back and tow in those two disabled ships later."

But the Earthman had reckoned without the huge planetoid swarm which lay directly in their path. The two Sirian ships plunged into the midst of these miniature worlds and in an instant were lost.

Power control wide open, Standish zoomed in pursuit. But though he swung the cosmoscope to every angle he saw no sign of his quarry.

"He's slid through our fingers this time," he told Ga-Marr bitterly. "But our chance will come again."

Heavily he swung the tiller and returned to the area of combat. The two helpless cruisers and the portions of the third were drifting idly without steerageway. Standish steered the _Phantom_ alongside, shot out the magnetic grappling bars and secured the two derelicts.

Then he headed the big ship back to Lyra.

A great crowd awaited them. As the _Phantom_ and its twin burden settled slowly downward, hundreds of Lyrians ran to the landing field. The court guard, resplendent in shining armor, took their places in formation, and the Emperor and his ministers hastily assembled on a raised pavilion.

Then the two wrecked cruisers were opened, and the prisoners led forth.

"You will be well treated," the Emperor addressed them collectively. "We do not subjugate our captives of war after your fashion; but until the Sirians cease their raids upon this planet, you will not be permitted to leave."

Standish ordered the _Phantom_ inspected and such damage as had been inflicted by Drum Faggard's guns repaired. Then with Thalia at his side, he moved slowly toward the palace.

"Some day," he said, "all this will be over. I don't know how, but I'm going to do everything in my power to bring this bloody war to an end. Then ..."

The girl smiled and lowered her eyes. "Then?" she prompted softly.

But Standish colored and became suddenly silent. Even during the heat of the battle, his heart had not beat as fast as it was beating now.

VIII

Six Lyrian months had passed since Standish and Ga-Marr had escaped from the unknown planet. During those months the fame of the _Phantom_ had spread fast as light. From the constellation Cygnus to the twelfth and fifteenth magnitude stars, the name of Captain Ether, behind which Standish hid his identity swept through the interplanetary lanes. Transports from powerful and peaceful Alpha Centauri moved with extra convoys, ready for instant action. No one knew when the _Phantom_ would strike. No one knew from what planet it came to attack like a black meteor without warning.

Yet Standish challenged no ship but those of Sirius. Haunting the lanes between Sirius and Earth, he seized enemy prison ships and troop transports alike with daring regularity.

The city of Calthedra was filled to overflowing with Sirian prisoners. But the man Standish wanted most, Drum Faggard, was never on a captured ship.

Desire to capture Faggard became almost an obsession as the Earthman went on. Through the powerful radio which he had built on Lyra, he learned of the situation on Earth, day by day.

The news was black. Canada, Mexico and Central America were now a part of the armed camp of the invaders. The Greater United States alone had managed to remain independent. Breastworks a quarter of a mile high had been erected on the Canadian and Mexican frontiers.

The only bright spot was the fact that Faggard's "big push" had failed. Often Standish smiled as he listened in on radio messages between the Sirian government and Drum Faggard at his Frisco base.

"The _Phantom_ has been sighted, lurking near Ganymede. Dispatch five cruisers to that satellite immediately."

And again: "The _Phantom_, it is learned on definite authority, comes from some point in future time. It is able to maintain a speed in excess of light, violating the Fitzgerald contraction, riding the fourth dimensional continuum."

To which Drum Faggard always snarled the same reply. "Whoever Captain Ether is, I'll get him. Give me time."

* * * * *

It was the day of his return from his most successful raid; and Standish and Thalia were walking arm in arm through the palace garden on Lyra. Flowers were in the full bloom of the planet's early summer, and the sun glowed upon them warmly.

"The _Phantom_ is not enough," the Earthman said. "Powerful as she is, she can only plague the Sirians like a single hornet. With all my efforts, I have not halted the war against Earth one iota."

Thalia shook her head. "You've done all one person possibly could do."

"I need an army and a fleet," Standish said. "Yet on all Lyra there will not be sufficiently trained men to furnish either for a long time."

The girl stood there, idly plucking the petals of a flower. Abruptly she turned.

"The Sirian prisoners! Even the private soldiers are equipped with scientific knowledge. Why not use them?"

But Standish shook his head. "They would refuse. We could force them to do physical work, of course. But that's all ... I ..."

"Listen." Excitement suddenly entered Thalia's voice. "In the laboratories in the lower levels there is a machine built by the early Lyrians long ago. No one understands its operation now. But its some kind of an electro-hypnotic machine. Couldn't you use it on the Sirians and make them _want_ to help us?"

A glitter in his eyes, Standish considered a moment, then leaped to his feet.

"Let's have a look," he said.

They left the garden, crossed the square and entered the ancient tunnel that led to the old laboratories. In the first level the Earthman found nothing that answered the girl's description. But in a storage room far back in the second tier he came upon two of the strange machines, dust covered, in places red with rust.

Mounted on wheels, the instruments consisted of a small cart with twin panels and a confusing array of dials. Above each machine was a helix of tightly wound silver wire. At the bottom was a transparent globe still half-filled with a thick greenish liquid.

"According to Ga-Marr," Thalia said, "these machines were used by the early Sirians for medical purposes. They found in the principal of applied hypnosis a cure for a great many ills."

Standish nodded. Without further word, he took up a small wrench and removed the panel from one of the instruments, carefully examining the revealed wiring.

"They seemed to be constructed for use on ordinary electric power. But not the power supplied by Calthedra's dynamoes. I'll have to step up the frequency."

He opened a wall switchboard and quickly connected two wires to the machine. On a table he found a transformer. Thalia stood by in silence while he hooked up wires, condensers, and a small loading coil. Presently he looked up with a nod.

"We'll give her a try and see what happens."

"Stand over there in front of the helix," Standish said. "I don't think there's any danger. Unless I'm wrong, the thing simply places the patient in an electro magnetic field and transmits an alternating vibration to the human brain."

He played with the dials a long time, twisted a rheostat experimentally.

"Notice anything?"

"Yes, I ..." The Earth girl's voice died off. A vacant look entered her eyes. "What is your wish?" she asked suddenly.

Standish made a quick adjustment to the controls. "Sit down," he commanded.

Obediently, Thalia moved across to a chair and sat stiffly erect.

"You have studied some mathematics," Standish said then. "Tell me, what is the principal of the algebraic curve?"

Without hesitation Thalia replied, "A curve, the equation of which contains no transcendental quantities; a figure the intercepted diameters of which bear always the same proportion to their respective ordinates."

Standish uttered a low cry of triumph and threw over the reverse lever of the machine. An instant later Thalia stared at him in bewilderment.

"What happened?"

"It worked," Standish replied. "With that device and a hundred more like it I will build, I can control every last Sirian prisoner. I can make them help us build an entire fleet, using all their scientific knowledge."

Thalia's eyes glowed. "We'll be fighting them with their own people," she said.

IX

The electro-hypnosis machines finished, Standish enlisted Ga-Marr's aid and proceeded to try them on a group of Sirian prisoners.

"After all," the Earthman said, "what we're doing is for the sake of your planet and mine. These prisoners will suffer no ill effect, but by organizing their efforts, we can aid a great cause."

He turned a control knob, and a low hum sounded in the machine. The green liquid in the globe began to bubble, and a column of mist climbed upward through the connecting tube.

Improved as they were by Standish, the machines immediately placed the Sirians in a mental state where they were receptive to all commands. Yet they retained full control of their mental faculties.

The work began. Frameworks for twenty space destroyers were laid. Like automatons the Sirians toiled, worked side by side with the men of Lyra. The twenty hulls were completed, and the atomic motors were being installed when Standish called Ga-Marr aside.

"I'm going to leave you in charge," the Earthman said, "while I take the _Phantom_ out again. The more prisoners, the quicker we'll have a fleet. Besides the Sirians will have grown careless again by now."

This time, however, Standish steadfastly refused to take Thalia along.

"I'm going to skirt the very stratosphere of Earth," he told her, "and it'll be too dangerous. But I'll be back soon."

Thalia pouted, but Standish was firm.

With another Lyrian, Dar-ley, as his lieutenant, Standish took off. He headed at full speed for the interplanetary lane between Sirius and Earth. As he went on, suspicion assailed him. Not a single Sirian ship did he see. Once a slow-moving freighter from far off Protorus crossed his path. The freighter clapped on all speed in a frantic attempt to escape. But Standish viewed it without interest.

He was drawing close to Earth. Alert, Standish kept the moon between him and his home planet, advancing cautiously. But there was no sign of trouble. The spaceways were empty.

Now the cold expanse of the moon opened before him. The _Phantom_ soared over Tycho, Aristotle and Petavius, dipped downward and came to a rest on a barren lava plain. Standish took down a space suit, and a small magno telescope and went out through the air lock. Pacing slowly across the frigid flat, he tried to fathom the growing puzzle.

A hundred yards from the ship he trained his scope on Earth, staring long and intently. But the range was too great and the scope too weak for detailed observation.

And then abruptly he stiffened. Through the powerful retinite lens a tiny dot focused his vision. A rocket ship! He adjusted the glass and studied her lines. Unquestionably she was Sirian and heading toward the moon on an oblique angle.

Standish ran for the _Phantom_. The air lock closed; he threw over the control lever, and the big ship headed with a lurch for the enemy.

In the pilot cuddy Dar-Ley watched the cosmoscope and intoned the distance measurements.

"Thirty thousand miles. Enemy still following same course."

"Twenty thousand. No change."

"Eight hundred."

A frown crossed Standish's face. The Sirian ship must have seen them by now. Alone and without convoy, it should have turned and fled.

Puzzled, the Earthman ordered a shot across the enemy's bows. The Sirian did not change her course. And then Dar-Ley gave a frantic cry.

"Behind us. Look!"

* * * * *

Six Sirian ships were racing out from the surface of the moon in battle formation. Even as Standish looked, he saw four more cruisers join the others, spread out to cut off the _Phantom_.

He realized then that he had blundered into a trap. The Sirians had been waiting for him. The single cruiser had been the bait which he had swallowed blindly.

"We'll have to run for it," Dar-Ley cried. "They're too many for us."

Standish's teeth came together grimly. "We'll give them a fight for their money first."

On toward the cruiser the _Phantom_ raced. The ship staggered as the Sirian opened fire, and two of the shots glanced harmlessly off the _feloranium_ hull. But with five well-placed shots Standish demolished the Sirian's guns and left her floating helplessly. Then the _Phantom_ turned helm and ran alongside on the opposite side of the cruiser.

In an instant Dar-Ley saw Standish's strategy. The _Phantom_ was now protected with the cruiser between her and the fleet. The Earthman flipped open his microphone switch.

"Rocket bomb. Full charge. Point four."

There was a deafening report as the bomb erupted from its cylinder. Through the port Standish saw the nearest Sirian ship explode into fragments. He smiled grimly and swung his helm far over.

"Here we go, Dar-Ley. If they catch us, they'll have to move."

But fast though the _Phantom_ was, the fleet hung steadily in her wake. Finally the Earthman switched on the boosters, auxiliary machines which drew power from intra-spacial emanations and built up the speed of the atomic motors. Gradually the fleet dropped behind.

"Close call!" Standish breathed. "Faggard almost got me that time."

X

Standish had never believed in hunches, yet the moment he entered the stratosphere of Lyra he knew something was wrong. A moment later he was free of the cloud level and over Calthedra. A wave of despair shot through him.

The city was a ruin. Not a single building remained. The great palace was a mass of debris, and the choked streets were deserted. With a great fear he headed the _Phantom_ for the landing field. Here a cry of dismay escaped his lips.

The sleek space ships which had dotted the level were no more. Twisted lumps of metal and scattered pieces of broken machinery were all that remained of the fleet.

"In heaven's name," cried Dar-Ley, "what has happened?"

"Drum Faggard," said Standish heavily. "He attacked while we were gone. It must have been only his lieutenants we met off the moon."

The _Phantom_ dropped to a landing, and the two men climbed out, followed by the crew. A death-like silence reigned. As he stood there staring at the grim devastation, the Earthman's fists clenched. The Lyrians, the prisoners, the Emperor ... had they all gone?

And then he thought of Thalia!

He lurched into a stumbling run and headed for the ruined city. In the metropolis the destruction was even more terrible. Ray guns had leveled every structure to the ground. Dead Lyrians lay on all sides. Every labor-saving device which had been constructed through Standish's efforts had been shattered.

But an instant later, in the midst of this wreckage, he saw a familiar figure stagger toward him. Ga-Marr!

The Emperor's son's face was caked with blood and his clothing was torn to shreds, but he managed to gasp a single word:

"Water...!"

Standish dispatched Dar-Ley back to the _Phantom_ for a canteen, then tore off his coat and rolled it into a pillow, forcing Ga-Marr to rest his head upon it. But when the Lyrian struggled up on one elbow and drank thirstily from Dar-Ley's canteen, Standish choked out the question that was uppermost in his mind.

"Thalia! Where is she?"

Ga-Marr's voice was a sob. "Drum Faggard! He surprised us with an entire fleet while you were gone. He kidnaped my father, and he took Thalia."

A blur rose up before Standish's eyes. "And the others?" he demanded. "The rest of your people? Can it be they all are dead?"

Ga-Marr shook his head. "They fled to the hills. I alone remained here because I knew you would return."

It was time, Standish realized, for action. But what action? His fleet was gone, all his work destroyed. Even the girl he had come to love had been taken from him. He turned and stared helplessly at the black hulled _Phantom_ resting on its mooring platform. Powerful as that ship was, he knew it was not enough. He might raid more Sirian ships, destroy more transports, but what would it avail him. He had played his hand, and he had lost. He was up against a blank wall.

* * * * *

And then a single object on the far side of the palace ruins focused in his vision. Stone and debris were piled high there, but the little, crudely-built space ship with which he and Ga-Marr had escaped from the unknown planet had escaped damage. For a moment Standish's brow furrowed in thought; then he uttered an exclamation.

"To the _Phantom_!" he said. "There may yet be a way...."

With Ga-Marr supported by Standish, they hurried down the debris-choked streets and across to the landing field. Reaching the ship, the Earthman turned his crew of twenty-four over to Dar-Ley, ordering them to leave at once for the hills where they were to aid the Lyrians.

"But what are you going to do without a crew?" objected Dar-Ley.

Standish's face was a block of granite. "I'm going to fight trickery with trickery," he said.

Then the Earthman and Ga-Marr entered the destroyer alone. Slowly, Standish guided the big ship over the ruins of the city of Calthedra. Above the palace, he suddenly shot out the magnetic grappling bars and secured the little space ship.

"What can you do with that?" Ga-Marr frowned. "The thing has little power and...."

But Standish, lips set hard, was moving the controls with silent determination. Up the _Phantom_ shot, boring forward like a hound to the hunt, carrying the crude little ship with it. Standish threw over the accelerator to the farthest notch and switched on both boosters. He motioned Ga-Marr into the control seat.

"Head directly for Earth. I'm going back and see if I can get a little more speed out of those motors."