by Earl
“Valdasc!” said Talscon with a slight sneer. “We think differently, Valdasc and I. Valdasc says to let the war go on. I say to stop it!”
“But can you?” gasped Milo.
Talscon seemed about to say more, but instead shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. The two scientists became more and more puzzled in the next, six days. They inquired about their balloon and were told vaguely that it was being repaired, but was not yet ready. They were not allowed to see it. Nor were they allowed to use a radio transmitter, to inform their ground crew of their strange predicament. They began to realize that they were being caught up in something significant in the sky city.
Talscon, on the days he was their guide, seemed anxious to impress them with Vikia’s power resources. He showed them the many humming machines which extracted energy from the cosmic rays, He pointed out with pride the robot converters which used for raw material the nitrogen atom and created from it countless products. He took them to control rooms where myriad clicking relays handled Gargantuan energies.
Valdasc, on the other hand, told them more and more of their smooth social system, their general happiness, their peace and quiet.
Each night when they went to bed, they talked over things, and were more puzzled over just what their presence meant in this city of the stratosphere. They began to get somewhat irked.
“Do you know, chief, the word ‘guests’ is a politer form of the word ‘prisoners.’ ?” stormed Milo the eighth night they were there. “We can’t find out where our balloon is. We can’t radio Earth. We can run all around the city, just so we run around with appointed guides. What’s behind it all? Are we sort of guinea pigs in the hands of a superrace?”
An hour later they were no closer to any reasonable explanation. As an afterthought, Milo said, “Another thing that beats me is why this big, lighted city hasn’t been observed from Earth’s surface.”
Dumont was ready with an explanation. “Big though it is, it’s only a pin point at eighteen miles. At night its lights shoot outward from Earth, only a faint diffused glow revealing itself Earthward. It must have been sighted in telescopes at various times by astonished people, but probably never twice in the same place, or by the same person. Besides, I have a faint suspicion they maneuver this thing around. I seem to sense a change in motion at times. Perhaps they always hide behind cloud banks.”
“Why?” Milo was thoughtfully undressing.
“I don’t know. But if they are averse to having their presence known on Earth, they’ll have to take it and like it in a few years, when rocket ships are developed to fly the stratosphere.”
Milo snapped his fingers suddenly. “Say, chief, I think you’ve hit something there. They’re afraid, maybe, to have contact with Earth, but see they can’t escape it. Tomorrow I’m going to ask Valdasc an important question.”
“Is it about Daveena?” asked Dumont. He knew that his young friend had fallen madly in love with her.
Milo growled a negative, but dreamed of the blond Viking girl.
VI.
TRUE TO HIS PROMISE, Milo asked Valdasc his question the next morning. “Have you any means of lowering, or controlling the motion of this city of yours, Valdasc?”
The prince of the sky people started.
“Has Talscon——” he began, and stopped. Abruptly, he changed the subject. “To-night,” he announced, “we have an audience before the kahn. In the meantime, let me show you our astronomical observatory.”
They had a telescope which probed deeply into the void. The daylight did not seem to affect it. Its incredible powers were able to pierce the thick mists of Venus and reveal scampering forms of savage life in the endless swamps. Mars and Jupiter were not in the sky, but Saturn revealed itself as an abode of life. Shining monsters that seemed to be armor plated with metals fought one another in demoniac ferocity. The rings were laid bare as a legion of Tom Thumb planetoids. The various moons showed few signs of life in their lunar jaggedness. The all-seeing eye showed Pluto next, as a bleak wilderness without end.
The two surface men were amazed at the revelations and realized more than ever what a superscience had built this city. They asked many questions, but Valdasc seemed preoccupied. Daveena did her best to make up for her father’s negligence.
Milo began to tell her much about the surface world, and in the telling began to realize what a difference there was in the two civilizations. Here was peace, contentment and spiritual simplicity. Down below was struggle, chicanery and bawdiness. Life in Vikia was lived as beautifully as the city was beautiful.
They went to the kahn’s palace after a meal together. He was in the same chamber and on the same throne. He looked the one hundred and fifty years of age he was. Talscon was there, crafty-eyed and smiling.
After a few polite inquiries into their health and enjoyment, the king cleared his throat, looked from Talscon to Valdasc, and spoke solemnly: “I have this day come to an important decision. For twelve thousand years we have refrained from interfering in any way with surface affairs. Perhaps we have been wrong, since we had the power to stop war at any time. We will put it up to the two beings most affected of any of us in Vikia. Would you, Professor Dumont and Milo Gibson, wish to see the war that is now defiling your world stopped?”
Milo looked at Dumont, and Dumont looked at Milo. Then Milo yelled, “Whoopee! We certainly would, kahn, old boy!”
Dumont nodded his head vigorously, unable to trust his voice. They believed the sky people’s ability to do this thing without question.
Valdasc’s voice rang out suddenly. “I do not think that would be wise! My worthy friend Talscon may think so, but I do not. Such an act would be of questionable merit! Earth must fight its own battles!”
Valdasc and Talscon measured one another with fierce eyes. Then Talscon turned to the two meteorologists. “The king has asked you a question. Do you, or do you not, want the war stopped?”
Dumont gave Valdasc a frigid glance and stepped away from him.
Milo stood indecisively for a moment, glanced helplessly at Daveena, and then joined his companion. Valdasc’s shoulders seemed to sag. Daveena avoided Milo’s eyes.
“We certainly would want the war stopped,” said Dumont. “It is a senseless, mad slaughter of human life and waste of human ingenuity. Victory on either side is meaningless. If you can stop the war, stop it!”
“Talscon,” said the kahn imperiously, “to-morrow you will take the surface men to the ray chamber. Valdasc, you are not to interfere.”
That was all. They filed out of the throne room silently. Valdasc and Daveena left with politely murmured farewells. Talscon conducted the visitors to their room. “You see,” he said before he left, “I have been your friend all the time. Valdasc would rather see your people kill each other for a month or so—for entertainment!” He left, smiling benignly.
Milo kicked off his slippers sullenly. “I don’t believe that,” he muttered, “about Valdasc. Nor do I trust Talscon. I wish we’d given Valdasc a chance to explain himself. Still,” he said, “why should we oppose a humanitarian measure like that?”
Dumont shook his head. “No use trying to figure these people out, Milo. We can only be sure of one thing, that stopping the war—however they can do it, but I’m sure they can—is a great and wonderful thing. If some inexplicable fate landed us here just to bring about that one thing, we can be satisfied.”
Yet Milo could not forget the hurt look in Daveena’s eyes when he had deserted the side of her father.
DUMONT AND MILO did not try to understand the mysterious weapon that Talscon showed them the next day. It was contained in a chamber hung below the huge metal plate which upheld the city, like the gondola of a Zeppelin. Its entrance was in the courtyard of the castle, through a kiosk with a locked metal door for which Talscon had a key. A steel ladder took them ten feet below, to the roof entrance of the gondola. The powerful hum of some nameless energy sang through the room as Talscon applied his hands to the levers and co
ntrols.
“This weapon was originally made, twelve thousand years ago, to protect us from possible attack by our enemies, the Atlanteans, in case they revoked their grant of the sky to Vikia. It is simply a beam of energy that paralyzes a human being, to any degree wished. No enemy can approach Vikia from below, at least not without being paralyzed. Its range and power are almost limitless. It can reach to any portion of Earth visible. With the weapon of peace, I will single out all warlike activities on Earth’s surface and paralyze the combatants, for a full day. Now, how much paralysis would you suggest, and where shall I start? We are at present hovering over America’s Pacific coast.”
“Start right here,” said Dumont. “Paralyze them to the extent that they can just barely crawl around. So that they can’t handle guns, but can take care of their personal needs.”
Talscon nodded and touched a stud, then a dial. On the silvery surface of a slowly revolving drum, a scene sprang into view, of dancing blue ocean. Talscon twisted the dial and they seemed to rush over the water. Then a cloud of smoke came into view. The telescopic eve pierced behind it and discovered a Japanese and American fleet, both visibly battered, still pounding away at one another. Talscon manipulated his controls, till the entire battle scene was contained in a numbered circle on the drum.
“Now!” he said, jerking a lever. A deep reactive hum sounded somewhere in the room, but that was all. Dumont and Milo waited breathlessly. Could this truly miraculous instrument do what it was supposed to do? Quite suddenly the cannon belchings stopped in that battle scene. In a few minutes the smoke began to clear away. The ships began to wallow aimlessly.
“That’s that,” said Talscon in deep satisfaction. “Now where? I can move our city anywhere you wish, using Earth’s magnetic field as a medium of motion.”
“To the Atlantic seacoast,” sang Dumont. “We’ll stop this bally war, we will!” He was elated at the thought.
Some Titanic power caught at the floating city and moved it eastward at an accelerating pace. Talscon had already sent a warning up to the city, so that no one would be caught out in the open in a terrific wind. In two short hours the drum pictured the coastline of Cape Cod.
“Good Lord!” gulped Milo. “They’re bombing New York!”
The Alliance fleet was hurling its shells into the cubistic mass of New York City. Several buildings were down. Milo could picture the mad scenes in its crowded streets.
“For Heaven’s sake, hurry!” cried Dumont, shaking Talscon by the shoulder.
The sky man played with his magic weapon and put a stop to it in five minutes. It seemed like a dream to Milo and Dumont. They went next in the Caribbean and stopped the dueling of fleets there, then across the wide Atlantic to England. Here Talscon worked till dark, limning front after front in his circle of paralysis. Britain had been a beehive of invasion at every part of its coast, at noon. By dark it was as quiet as Sunday afternoon.
Talscon tuned in an Earth announcer after it was over. His voice a ragged shred from excitement, the commentator was saying, “Unbelievable, but true. No one knows why, but almost every unit of war on both sides of the Atlantic is mysteriously out of commission. It is rumored to be some sort of paralysis. Is this some dread plague, or epidemic, that has come in the wake of war? How long will it last? Will the powers rush fresh troops into action? No one knows!”
The next day, a close check-up with the vision instrument revealed that fighting had recommenced in various places. The belligerents had evidently taken it as a strange, but natural, event and ordered their now-recovered men back into action. Talscon snarled as he said, “This time I’ll give them a dose that will last a week!” He went over the same ground he had the day before, in reverse order, again silencing the cannon, quieting the war forces. When he had finished this, he straightened up with a terrible look in his eye. The two days of playing with godlike forces had brought something out in him.
“Those puny things!” he shouted. “I have them all under my thumb. If they dare to start their petty little war again now——”
He left it unfinished, but Dumont and Milo were glad to get out of his presence. They went to their rooms, rather stunned. They had seen something in these two days that shook their very souls: a demonstration of illimitable power.
THEIR NERVES were so fagged that they jumped when there was a soft knock on the door of their private room. Daveena stepped in. Milo stood, embarrassed.
“Well?” said Milo wonderingly.
The girl came forward. “Milo, listen to me. You’ve got to. You don’t know what is going on. You were unfair not to let my father explain himself about this war matter. I’ve sacrificed my pride to come here, and we Vikings are very proud people. You must come and see my father. Perhaps this can be straightened out.”
Milo answered the appeal in his heart more than in his mind. He dressed hurriedly. Dumont hesitated only a moment and then dressed also. As the three of them walked toward the door, it swung open. Talscon stood there, still with that strange look in his eye.
“So?” he drawled. “I find the princess keeping secret rendezvous with——”
That’s all he said, for the rest was jarred out of him by Milo’s fist on his jaw. Talscon’s face became very surprised and then he bent at the knees and slowly crumpled.
“Come on!” said Milo grimly. “I want to get at the truth of this thing, and your father is the only one can give it. I see that now.”
Levitating corridors took them to the rooms of Valdasc Olo-Kwar in the same building: The prince of the sky people had been staring moodily out of a window. He turned in surprise as his daughter entered. Then his face changed and mirrored a frigid aloofness as he saw the two men behind her.
“What do you want of me?” he asked coldly. “I who allow your people to be slaughtered without lifting a finger?”
Dumont and Milo both flushed. “Maybe we’re wrong about that,” responded Dumont. “Knowing so little of things here, perhaps we have not seen things in their true light. We would like to hear the truth from you.”
Valdasc looked from his daughter to the two meteorologists stonily. Milo went up to him and put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “We have wronged you, Valdasc,” he said earnestly. “Forgive us. We do not trust Talscon. We have come to you.”
Aware of their deep sincerity, Valdasc hesitated no longer. He waved them toward chairs, and began speaking when they were all seated.
“Talscon has apparently done a great and noble thing, stopping the surface war. But his motive behind it is not so altruistic. He wanted only a chance to test the paralysis weapon, which has never been used in our history before. He played upon the kalin’s feelings, and upon yours, to get the chance to see how effective the weapon could be. Now he is sure it works. And now he is sure he can become the conqueror he wishes to become!”
Dumont and Milo started. “Conqueror?” they echoed.
“Yes,” continued Valdasc, his eyes blazing suddenly. “Talscon dreams great dreams. I have detected his most secret thoughts. He realizes that with our superior science we could become rulers of Earth—but not beneficent rulers. In Talscon’s conception of it, it would be tyranny! A worse tyranny than any Roman or Hun overlordship was in history!”
Valdasc went on, groping for expression. “I have many things to say, and so few words to say them with. If you knew telepathy, it would be easier. However, we sky people have realized for a long time that we have a great moral responsibility toward Earth. We can bring it chaos or enlightenment. For twelve thousand years we have not taken a single step either way, content to take the easier course of nonintervention. But with the recent rise of science on Earth, it has come to mean an eventual meeting of our two civilizations.”
He hesitated before he went on. “Therefore, it was imperative that we make a choice of procedure. In recent times, two factions have arisen here in Vikia. One faction, led by Talscon. believes in subjugation of Earth before it can become strong enough to threaten our safet
y and peace. The other faction, led by myself, hopes to affect a permanent alliance with Earth. The landing of your gondola here has become of great significance to us of Vikia. To Talscon and his group it means the threat of future struggle. To me it means that in a few more years, when your world has achieved regular stratosphere flight, perhaps in rocket ships, we will form a truce with Earth and distribute our science freely. And with it, our philosophy of peace, developed over a period of twelve thousand years. Thus we will benefit Earth and establish everlasting peace between us.”
“I SEE!” breathed Dumont slowly. Milo stared from Valdasc’s noble face to the lovely one of Daveena and wondered how he could ever have mistrusted them in the slightest.
“Do you see also,” continued Valdasc tensely, “why I had to be heartless, as it seemed, about not stopping the war? Perhaps it would be a good thing, if it stopped there. But one thing leads to another. I knew it would start a chain of events, and in the wrong direction. Talscon now knows the power in his hand. He is a strange, warped man, brilliant, but ruthless. He will now try to win favor to his scheme. He will glibly dupe thousands of others as he has his followers, and eventually swing Vikia toward his goal. When our present arbiter ruler dies, the succession will rest between—Talscon and myself! By popular choice! And Kahn Zimini-Dar, being very old, may die any day, any minute.”
There was silence in the luxurious chamber for a while, as Dumont and Milo tried to grasp the implications of this tremendous situation—a situation unfolding eighteen miles above a world that did not even suspect the presence of anything above it—one that would echo down the halls of history, for better or for worse.
Here in this miracle city of superscience were two men of destiny: one who wanted to preach the beauty of life, as they knew it, to a chaotic, warring world, bringing it the peaceful philosophy of a mellowed civilization; another, who wanted to shackle Earth with the illimitable power within his grasp.
