Part 6
He had no difficulty locating the death broadcasting machine. It was housed in a tremendous hall in the Dohlmite temple of science. It was a delicate affair of tubes and wires. The cylinders, he saw, were fed into it automatically so that it could broadcast its messages of death with machine gun rapidity.
He seized a chair, savagely smashed the machine into fragments. It was a weapon of enslavement. No good could come of it. At length, he paused. The cylinders and the force wall remained, but they could wait.
With a growing sense of triumph, he left the temple of science, retraced his steps down the hill between the silent houses.
While still half way to the gate, he made out hundreds of men crowded just beyond the force wall. As he drew closer he recognized Koal and Acpsahme in the front ranks. He went into the glassite shack, threw the switch that shut off the segment of the wall. He forced himself to walk across the silver track, say in a calm voice:
"The Dohlmites are dead, Koal. The machine is destroyed. We're free."
A savage cheer rang up from the men. Runners left to inform the rest of the city. Koal seized his hand, nearly wrung it off.
Acpsahme said, "The men of the Venusian Export Lines attacked us. They bit off more than they could chew."
"Pepperell? Where's Pepperell?" asked Norman.
"Here," replied the T.I.S. agent.
"Pepperell," said Norman. "Get in touch with the Terrestial Intelligence Service over the radio at once. You know their code. Tell them to send an accredited ambassador of the Earth Congress in the Empire's fastest space ship toward Neptune, but don't reveal our location. We'll contact the ship beyond the orbit of Jupiter. I want," he said with a sudden laugh, "to arrange a surprise for the ambassador."
XII
During the following days a bacchanalian orgy swept Behrl as former slaves and pirates went wild with freedom. It was the maddest spree in the history of the System. Only in the apartment of Norman Saint Clair did sanity hold forth.
There the nine remaining men of the original thirteen who had launched the Sinn Feiners, worked ceaselessly to bring order out of chaos. Hops, the traitor, was dead. Pepperell, in charge of a picked crew, had been despatched in the _Rocket_ to fetch the ambassador of the Earth Congress. Two of the Martians had been killed in the battle with the men of the Venusian Export Lines.
Many of the pirates and slaves would desire to remain, Norman thought. Here was a new world, a rich world with unguessed resources waiting for exploitation. But for those who wished to return, transportation to Earth had to be arranged.
At the present, the nine original members of the Sinn Feiners had assumed control of Behrl, but a permanent form of government also must be drawn up. The vast housing facilities and factories thrown open to the colonists demanded cooperative ownership, a communal government. With a sigh, Norman turned over his radium mines to the new state.
The nine men were seated about a long table which had been installed in his living-room. He said with a wry grin, "Gentlemen, I'm absolutely the only man in history to turn down mastery of the Solar System and then toss away a fortune on top of it."
The buzzer softly announced a visitor. Koal rose, admitted Pepperell, the ex-T.I.S. agent. The men crowded about him, firing questions. "Did he have the ambassador with him? Was there any trouble?"
Pepperell laughed, held up his hands.
"Give me a chance, gentlemen. Give me a chance. Yes, I've got the ambassador."
"Did everything go as planned?" asked Norman anxiously.
Pepperell nodded. "Yes. We contacted the Empire's ship. They had no suspicion that we were anywhere about until we caught them in the paralysis ray. We boarded them successfully, took the ambassador off. He was a very surprised ambassador when he woke up aboard the _Rocket_--and a very thoughtful one."
"How much does he know?"
"He hasn't been told anything," said Pepperell.
The buzzer rang a second time.
"That must be him now." Pepperell went to the door.
The ambassador was in the corridor. He had been escorted to the apartment by a squad of men from the _Rocket_.
"Gentlemen," Pepperell introduced him, "may I present Mustapha Tiflis, Ambassador of the Empire."
"Jupiter!" Norman breathed. The Earth Congress had sent their ablest member, the man who was slated to be the next Autocrat.
Norman seated him at the table. Mustapha Tiflis was an Earth man of Oriental origin. His hair and eyes were black, his nose strongly hooked. He appeared to be in his early fifties. His features bore an expression of guarded surprise. The surprise spread as Norman related briefly the origin of the terror and how they had finally destroyed the plant men. He said:
"Ambassador, we kidnapped you in the fashion we did for two reasons. First, until we have been granted citizenship, we prefer to keep our hiding place a secret. Second, we wanted to impress you with the effectiveness of the invisible ship and the paralysis ray."
"You succeeded," said Mustapha Tiflis.
"Now in regard to our citizenship, we wish to be taken into the Empire, not as a colony, but as a sovereign state with a seat in the Earth Congress."
Mustapha Tiflis frowned. "It's quite without precedent," he said. "As you know, all colonies are administered by a governor."
"But we are in a position to bargain," said Norman handing the ambassador the document which the nine had drawn up. "We have the secret of the invisible ships to offer the Empire, the paralysis ray and a world."
Mustapha Tiflis was an ambitious man and quick to recognize opportunity. In later years, he was to rise to a position of almost absolute dictatorship, and with the aid of the invisible ships and paralysis ray, bring Mars and Venus under the wings of the Empire. He read the document carefully, scrawled his signature at the bottom. "And now, gentlemen, if you would be so kind, just exactly where the hell am I?"
* * * * *
As the last of the Executive Committee trooped outside, Norman turned back into the apartment, saw Jennifer watching him from the doorway.
"It's finished," he said. He looked faintly embarrassed. "We've come a long way together, haven't we?"
The girl nodded, slipped into the room.
His embarrassment mounted. "I was hoping ..." he began. "This is a good world now that the plant men are dead. We...."
"Yes?" said Jennifer.
He drew his breath. "Would you...."
"Yes," said Jennifer and the next moment she was in his arms. "A good slave always obeys her master."
Suddenly the door to the apartment was flung violently open. The Duchess charged into the room.
"Where's that bag of mine?" she demanded excitedly. "There's a ship sailing for Earth at seventeen-hundred." She dashed for her room. "Broadway, here I come!"
End of Project Gutenberg's The Great Green Blight, by Emmett McDowell