Part 2

Then a voice suddenly issued from the radiovisiphone. It was the operator.

“Mr. Dustin.”

“Yes.”

“Station WNB-437 announces that it is about to broadcast important international news. Shall I tune it in for you?”

“Please.”

A picture instantly flashed on the disc of the radiovisiphone—the announcer for the World News Broadcasters, standing in the station at Washington, D.C. He held a paper in one hand, and a watch in the other, evidently waiting for the exact second to begin his announcement. Presently he cleared his throat and looked up.

“We have just received a communication from Paris, France,” he announced. “A projectile similar to that which fell in the Thames near Gravesend has fallen into the heart of Paris. The city is in ruins and there has been a terrific loss of life, unestimated at this time. This shock, like the one which came a few hours ago, has been recorded by seismographs all over the world. Scientists who hold that the previous explosion was caused by the Dustin projectile have issued no statements regarding this one. No one we have consulted can offer any explanation of this singular and terrible occurrence.”

The announcer paused, then turned to receive a new sheet of paper from a messenger.

“The situation with regard to these projectiles is becoming more serious every minute,” he said. “I have here a radio message from New York City. A third missile has just fallen into New York Harbor, sinking or destroying all shipping in the vicinity, killing and maiming thousands of people, and shattering glass in the windows for miles around. Two Broadway skyscrapers are reported to have toppled to the street, adding to the shambles as panic-stricken people scurrying for shelter were crushed in the ruins.”

Again the announcer paused to receive a new sheet of paper.

“A message from Professor Fowler of the Yerkes Observatory states that he was looking at the moon this morning between the hours of one and four o’clock, and that during that period he saw five distinct and quite brilliant flashes of light in the region of the crater, Ptolemy. He has just learned of the explosions at London, Paris and New York, and thinks that they may have some connection with what he saw on the moon early this morning. It is his theory that the moon is suffering from a bombardment similar to that which the earth is undergoing.”

The picture of the announcer suddenly disappeared from the disc and that of Dustin’s operator appeared.

“I had to tune out WNB-437, sir,” she apologized. “The President of the United States is calling.”

“Tune him in,” replied Dustin.

Instantly there flashed on the disc the familiar countenance of President Whitmore. He looked worried, and his voice trembled slightly as he asked:

“Mr. Dustin, have you any explanation of the calamities that have overtaken the world in the last few hours?”

“I have no facts for you at present, Mr. President,” replied Dustin, “but I have a theory.”

“And what is that?”

“It is my belief that the moon is bombarding the earth. She reached an advantageous firing position last night, and Professor Fowler saw five flashes between one and four o’clock this morning. According to my theory she left five huge interplanetary mines in the path of the earth and we have already run afoul of three of them. Moreover, they were aimed and timed with such accuracy that one of our chief cities has been destroyed and two more came near to meeting the same fate.”

“You have stated that your projectile struck the moon. Do you believe that our satellite is inhabited, and that the explosions we have experienced were mines or missiles, fired in reprisal by the lunar inhabitants?”

“That is my belief, Mr. President.”

“Then, Mr. Dustin, you are jointly responsible with the Associated Governments of the Earth for this horrible and unexpected catastrophe, and we shall look to you to see that the bombardment is stopped.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. President, but I am without funds, and my company is to be taken from me by my creditors in a few days.”

“This, Mr. Dustin,” replied the President, “is an international emergency, and must be met with every ounce of power at our command. We need you—the world needs you and your organization. Draw on the government for such funds as you require at once, and I will issue an order on the treasury for sufficient funds to satisfy every one of your creditors.

“At present I can only promise you the cooperation of our own government, but I am calling a meeting of the Associated Governments today, and I feel sure they will be with us. Do all you can, as quickly as you can, and spare no expense to carry the thing through as swiftly as possible.”

“I’ll do my best, Mr. President,” replied Ted.

The picture of the President faded from the disc, and Roger rose from his seat, his face aglow with enthusiasm for this new undertaking.

“Atta boy, Ted!” he said. “When do we start? And how?”

IV. MOON PEOPLE

On the following day the factory of Theodore Dustin, Inc., hummed with an activity it had not known for weeks.

The fact that Ted’s prediction regarding the other two missiles from the moon had come true shortly after he had uttered them, solidified public confidence in him to a degree even greater than that he had enjoyed before the firing of his own projectile and his subsequent condemnation by the official observers.

The last two missiles to strike the earth had apparently not been aimed so accurately as the others, but the intent of those who fired them had been just as evident, for one had plumped into the middle of Lake Michigan, not far from Chicago, and the other had alighted in the Tyrrhenian Sea near Rome, both causing tidal waves and some damage to shipping, but without the large number of fatalities which attended the falls of the others.

There were people, of course, who condemned Ted for having fired his projectile to the moon and thus having brought about the bombardment in reprisal—a bombardment which, for all they knew, might take place every month at the time the moon was in a favorable firing position.

None there were, however, who condemned the youthful scientist so thoroughly as he condemned himself. Not that he spent his time, or any part of it, in self-reproach. There was, in fact, no time for anything but work, with the busy program he had set for himself and his men.

Two major projects, both being carried on at once, claimed every minute of his waking time. One was the building of a gigantic radio station, with which he hoped to get into communication with the inhabitants of the moon. The other, the construction of an interplanetary vehicle driven by atomotors, in which he hoped to reach the moon in person. The radio, he expected to have ready for service in two weeks, but the vehicle, because the manufacture of many of its delicate and intricate parts could only be entrusted to a few of his best men, would take six weeks to complete at the very least.

During the first three days and nights he worked without sleep. Then outraged nature asserted itself, and he was compelled to rest. From then until the day of the completion of the radio station, he put himself on a sleep ration of four hours a day.

On May 19th, just two weeks after the projectiles from the moon had struck the earth, and nearly two months from the day Dustin’s projectile had exploded on the moon, there was a large and august assemblage in the general office of Theodore Dustin, Inc.

Forty of the world’s leading linguists, representing every race and color on the globe, talked excitedly in a multiplicity of tongues. Nor were modern languages solely represented, for there was a small group of men whose life studies had been the forgotten languages of the past—men who had wrested from crypts, pyramids, monuments, caves, and the ruins of ancient cities, temples and fortresses, the secrets of the speech of the ancients.

Nor were these all. A still smaller group consisted of the greatest men of science, sent by the leading nations of the earth.

From time to time, they glanced expectantly at the door of Dustin’s private office.

Presently the door opened and Dustin stepped out, accompanied by President Whitmore of the United States.

Instantly the buzz of conversation ceased, as Ted held his hand aloft for silence.

“We are ready, gentlemen,” he announced. “Follow me to the elevators.”

Three trips of the elevators landed everyone on the roof. In the center was a building containing the sending and receiving apparatus. Overhead were stretched the wires of the gigantic aerial.

Ted conducted his party to the doorway of the building and into a small auditorium with seats and desks arranged in a semicircle. Here Sanders met them and assisted Ted in showing each man to the desk which had been provided for him.

When all were seated, Ted and Roger pulled back two sliding doors which disclosed a small stage and a radiovisiphone with a disc ten feet in diameter, which faced the gathering.

“Now, Mr. President,” said Ted, “if you will do us the honor of pressing the button on the desk before you, you will close the circuit of the set through which we hope to establish communication with the inhabitants of the moon. The zero hour has arrived. In accordance with the orders of the Associated Governments of the Earth, every broadcasting station in the world has ceased to function.”

The President smiled and pressed the button. A terrific crackling roar from the radiovisiphone followed his action.

Ted speedily adjusted a set of dials on the desk before him, and the roar subsided. Then he stepped before the radiovisiphone.

“People of the Moon,” he said, “we know not in what language to address you, so we are about to speak to you in all the known languages of the earth. Our mission is one of peace—our purpose to make apology for having wronged you—a people of whom we know nothing, and whose very existence we did not suspect. Will you answer us, People of the Moon?”

The young inventor evidently did not expect a reply—not so soon, at least. He turned, and beckoned to the German linguist to take his place. It was his purpose to have the speech repeated in each language in turn. About to step down from the platform, he was startled by sudden cries of amazement from the men facing him.

“Look, Ted! Look quickly, behind you!” he heard Roger shout.

As he faced the radiovisiphone once more, it was his turn to gasp in astonishment not unmingled with awe, for revealed in the pellucid depths of the ten foot disk, and apparently not five feet from him, stood a woman—a glorious vision of feminine beauty that held him entranced.

She was not large—a scant five feet in height, he judged—but there was a certain dignity in her bearing which somehow made her appear taller. The golden glory that was her hair, dressed in a style new and strange to the inventor, was held by a band of platinum-like metal powdered with glistening jewels. Her clothing, if judged by earthly standards, was not clothing at all. Gleaming meshes of white metal, woven closely together, formed a light, shimmering garment that covered though it revealed the lines of her shapely breasts, slender waist, and lissom hips, leaving arms, shoulders and legs bare. A jeweled dagger hung from a chain-like belt about her waist, and a huge ruby blazed on the index finger of her left hand. On her feet were sandals, apparently constructed from the white metal.

Behind the young lady whose appearance had so amazed the distinguished gathering of scientists, stood two men, each well over six feet tall. They appeared to be guards, for each leaned on the hilt of a huge, broad-bladed, scimitar-like weapon that reached from the floor to the level of his breast, and both wore shining plate armor and helmets of strange design.

The girl smiled, revealing at the same time, a set of small, even white teeth, and a most adorable pair of dimples. Then she spoke. Ted stood like one bewitched, listening to the clear, flute-like tones, but Roger had the presence of mind to turn on the recorder.

She had not spoken more than a dozen words, however, when the image in the disc blurred and her voice was drowned by a confusion of discordant sounds.

“What’s wrong?” asked the President of the United States, anxiously.

“Another station cutting in, damn it!” replied Ted, frantically turning his wave-trap dial with one hand and the selector dials with the other.

While he labored with the dials an image seemed slowly to be forming in the disc, taking the place of the one which had just disappeared. For a time, two voices were heard, one unmistakably that of the girl, growing fainter and fainter, the other, the coarse tones of a man, constantly increasing in intensity.

As the new image cleared, it proved to be that of a man of remarkable dimensions—with a body that was almost globular, to which were attached incongruously slender arms and legs. Although he could not have been more than five feet tall, his round head was nearly twice as large as that of the average earth man of six feet. His nose was flat, and his eyes slanted toward his temples above exceptionally prominent cheek bones. As he spoke in sing-song monosyllables, he disclosed rat-like teeth, set far apart, and wobbled a long, thin moustache, the two ends of which drooped from the corners of his mouth to his breast.

On his head was a tall pointed helmet of gleaming yellow metal, built up in tiers like a pagoda and ending in a sharp spike. His body was encased in scale-like armor of the same yellow metal, and his breast was crossed by two purple sashes, fastened at their intersection by a golden medallion on which was emblazoned a scarlet dragon. From one of these depended a sword with a small, round guard, and a hilt nearly a foot in length, and from the other, a weapon which slightly resembled an automatic pistol. Behind him stood a semicircle of smaller beings of similar rotund shape, whose helmets were shorter and of copper-colored metal, as were their suits of armor. They wore brown sashes and copper medallions emblazoned with green dragons, and in addition to weapons similar to those of the larger man, carried tall poles surmounted by sharp discs that slightly resembled buzz-saws with exceptionally long teeth.

The appearance of the girl had created a stir in the room, but when these grotesque creatures became plainly visible on the disc, animated whispers turned to an uproar, and Ted was forced to call for silence.

Scarcely had the confusion abated, ere an aged Chinese doctor arose and came up beside Ted.

“What is it, Dr. Wu?” asked the young scientist, his hands busy with the dials. “Can you understand him?”

“A word, here and there, seems intelligible—something like the language of my revered ancestors.”

At sight of Dr. Wu, the speaker in the disc paused and nodded. It was as if he had recognized someone racially akin to him. The doctor bowed and smiled in return, and said something in a monosyllabic tongue. Its phonetic similarity to that which had come from the globular being was striking, as was the fact that there was a slight facial resemblance between Dr. Wu and the lunar speaker.

The Lunite pursed his lips and knit his brows as if endeavoring to understand. He turned to the semicircle of men behind him. They all appeared puzzled. Then he dispatched one of them, who disappeared from the disc, and facing Dr. Wu once more, uttered a short sentence.

It was the doctor’s turn to knit his brows and shake his head. Again he essayed speech with the armored man. Apparently he was not understood. The process was repeated several more times with the same result. It seemed that the two were on the verge of understanding each other, yet could not quite make themselves intelligible.

Then the man who had disappeared from the disc a few minutes before reappeared with another, a bent figure who hung on his arm for support. His face was wrinkled and toothless, his sparse moustache was gray, and his limbs were more spindly than those of the others. Instead of armor he wore a garment of quilted black cloth over his emaciated form.

The man in the gold armor looked at Dr. Wu, then pointed to the old man and uttered a few words. The doctor nodded, and addressed him. The old fellow pondered for a moment, then shook his head. Again Dr. Wu spoke to him. He shook his head once more, and reaching beneath his robe, drew forth a scroll and writing brush. After rapidly tracing a number of characters on the scroll, he held it up. The writing bore a striking resemblance to Chinese.

Seizing Ted’s sleeve, the doctor spoke excitedly.

“Is the photo-recorder on?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I believe I can translate that writing, given time.”

Facing the old man in the disc, Dr. Wu again nodded and smiled. Then he pointed skyward and said:

“_T’ien._”

The old man nodded, smiled, and repeated excitedly: “_T’ien! T’ien!_” then bowed as if in devotion.

The doctor also made the devotional obeisance and said:

“_Shang Ti._”

The old man shook his head, signifying that he could not understand. Then he pointed to the man in the golden armor, and said:

“_P’an-ku._”

“_P’an-ku!_” repeated the doctor with a look of astonishment on his face, and made obeisance to the golden one.

That individual, with a look of annoyance, suddenly turned on the old man and released a volley of monosyllables. The old fellow groveled before him and shook his head.

Then he of the golden armor made a sign with his hand, whereupon the disc suddenly became blank.

“Guess the interview is over,” said Ted, shutting off the radio. “Now how can we find out what it was all about?”

“I can explain the last three words,” said Dr. Wu. “‘_T’ien_,’ is the oldest word in our language which has the meaning of ‘The Heavens’ or ‘God.’ This word was understood. ‘_Shang Ti_,’ a later word for ‘God,’ was unintelligible. The old man pointed to the one who was evidently the ruler, and said: ‘_P’an-ku_.’ According to our traditions, ‘_P’an-ku_’ was the first human being, corresponding to the ‘Adam’ of your Bible.”

“From which one might deduce,” said Ted, “that the people we have just interviewed are remotely related to your earliest ancestors.”

“So it seems. If you will let me have the phonetic and written records, and a fast electroplane, I believe that by consulting our ancient writings I may be able to render a translation in a few days.”

“Splendid!” replied Ted. “Both will be ready within an hour.”

V. ULTIMATUM OF P’AN-KU

Three days later Ted received a radiogram from Peiping, reading as follows:

Honorable Sir:

I avail myself of the privilege of submitting below the result of my poor efforts at deciphering the written characters of the Moon People. The spoken language was, with the exception of a few scattered words which cannot be put together to make sense, wholly unintelligible to me.

Here follows my sorry translation:

_Why have you destroyed Ur? You, the people of Du Gong have thrown to us, the Imperial Government of P’an-ku, mightiest emperor of Ma Gong, the tcha-tsi_ (meaning unknown to translator) _of war. We are greater and wiser than you, and can crush you with ease._

_You have demonstrated that you are not fit to govern yourselves—that you are a menace to the people of the great Lord Sun, his eight apostles and their children. The Imperial Government of P’an-ku will send a viceroy to rule over you. Submit, and you will live happily, the subjects of P’an-ku. Resist, and you will be destroyed._

In my humble and unworthy opinion, the word, “_tcha-tsi_,” means either some instrument of war or perhaps a challenge to war, and has the same symbolical significance as does the gauntlet in English.

Dr. Wu

The contents of this message were immediately transmitted to the President of the United States, and he lost no time in calling a council of the Associated Governments of the Earth by radiovisiphone. Ted Dustin was a party to the conference, and assisted in drafting a placatory note to P’an-ku. The note, which was sent to Dr. Wu for translation into the Lunite language, was as follows:

_To the Imperial Government of P’an-ku_:

_Greeting_:

The Associated Governments of the Earth regret the destruction of Ur, and are willing to do all in their power to make amends.

The destruction was unintentional, as the Associated Governments of the Earth were unaware that Ma Gong was inhabited.

The Associated Governments of the Earth make full apology for having wronged the people of Ur, and stand willing to pay a reasonable indemnity in treasure, food, raw materials, or manufactured products, but are united in the purpose to resist and retaliate for any attempt at conquest.

After the note had been drafted and dispatched it was unanimously decided at the meeting that Ted was entitled to the million dollar reward, there being now no longer any doubt that his projectile had struck the moon. The treasurer of the association was, accordingly, ordered to pay him that amount.

It was late in the evening when Ted called Roger into his private office.

“Get that translation from Dr. Wu, yet?” he asked.

“Yes. I had it painted in large white letters on a black placard and mounted on an easel in front of the big disc.”

“Good. We’ll go up now. Everything will be ordered off the air in five minutes, and we’ll try to get it through.”

They took the elevator to the tower room, where the linguists, scientists, and representatives of the associated powers were assembled as before. President Whitmore was not present, however, because of urgent business in Washington. His place was taken by the Secretary of State. Dr. Wu, who was also unable to be present, was represented by Dr. Fang, a Chinese scholar of almost equal repute.

At ten o’clock, the zero hour, Ted promptly pressed the button and began manipulating the dials.

This time he was instantly rewarded by the appearance of the dazzlingly beautiful girl who had faded from his vision on the occasion of his last attempt at communication. She was attended by two armed guards as before, and in addition by a bent, graybearded man who wore a richly embroidered robe of dark blue, and sandals.

Both glanced at the writing on the placard which Ted held up. Eagerly watching their faces, he saw that they registered amazement and horror. Wondering what there could be about this pacific message to cause such a reaction, he called Dr. Fang and asked him to write the query: “What is wrong?”

The doctor, a thin, rat-faced Manchu, came forward, but said he did not know the symbols for the words.

The girl, meanwhile, had a scroll and writing brush brought forward by a female attendant. The latter held the scroll aloft so its surface was fully visible, and the girl began rapidly writing two sets of characters thereon. One set was similar to those which had been used in the previous communication. The other was totally unlike it and bore no resemblance to any known earthly characters. Her purpose, however, was quite evident. The two sets of characters were written in alternating perpendicular line side by side, in order that the former language might be used as a key to the latter.

Quick to grasp her idea, Ted called for the photo-record of the message from the Imperial Government of P’an-ku. Beside it, he wrote the English translation, using Roman capital letters for the sake of simplicity. Then beside the placarded note to the Government of P’an-ku, he wrote the original of that note, also in Roman capitals. In addition, he pointed out and distinctly pronounced the English words, one by one.

The girl nodded, smiled, and pointed questioningly at him.

“Ted Dustin,” he said.

She pointed to herself and said:

“_Maza an Ma Gong._”