Flying Legion

by George Allan England

  CHAPTER XVI

  LECLAIR, ACE OF FRANCE

  Swooping, rising, falling like a falcon in swift search of quarry, thelast plane of the Azores squadron swept in toward the on-rushing Eagleof the Sky.

  Undismayed by the swift, inexplicable fall of all its companions, itstill thrust on for the attack. In a few minutes it had come off theport bows of the giant air-liner, no more than half a mile distant.Now the watchers saw it, slipping through some tenuous highercloud-banks that had begun to gather, a lean, swift, wasplikespeedster: one of the Air Control Board's--the A.C.B.'s--most rapidaerial police planes. The binoculars of the Master and Bohannan drewthe machine almost to fingers' touch.

  "Only one man aboard her, with a machine-gun," commented the Master,eyes at glass, as he watched the flick of sunlight on the attacker'sfuselage, the dip and glitter of her varnished wings, the blur of herpropellers. Already the roaring of her exhaust gusted down to them.

  "Ah, see? She's turning, now. Banking around! We may catch a burst ofmachine-gun fire, in a minute. Or, no--she's coming up on our tail,Major. I think she's going to try and board us!"

  "You going to let her?" protestingly demanded Bohannan. His handtwitched against the butt of the Lewis. "In two seconds I could sightan aft gun, sir, and blow that machine Hell-for-leather!"

  "No, no--let that fellow come aboard, if he wants," the Mastercommanded. And with eager curiosity in his dark eyes, with vast wonderwhat manner of human this might be who--all alone after having seenmore than a hundred comrades plunge--still ventured closing to grips,the Master watched.

  The air-wasp was already swerving, making a spiral glide, coming upastern with obvious intentions. As the two men watched--and as a scoreof other eyes, from other galleries and ports likewise observed--thelean wasp carried out her driver's plan. With a sudden, plungingswoop, she dived at the Eagle of the Sky for all the world like a hawkstooping at quarry.

  A moment she kept pace with the air-liner's whirring rush. Shehovered, dropped with a wondrous precision that proved her rider'sconsummate skill, made a perfect landing on the long take-off thatstretched from rudders to wing observation galleries, atop the liner.

  Forward on _Nissr_ the wasp ran on her small, cushioned wheels. Shestopped, with jammed-on brakes, and came to rest not forty feet abaftthe Eagle's beak.

  Quite at once, without delay, the little door of the pilot-pit in thewasp's head swung wide, and a heavily-swaddled figure clambered out.This figure stood a moment, peering about through goggles. Then with afree, quick stride, he started forward toward the gallery where he hadseen Bohannan and the Master.

  The two awaited him. Confidently he came into the wind-shieldedgallery on top of _Nissr's_ port plane. He advanced to withinabout six feet, stopped, gave the military salute--which they bothreturned--and in a throaty French that marked him as from Paris,demanded:

  "Which of you gentlemen is in command, here?"

  "_Moi, monsieur!_" answered the Master, also speaking French. "Andwhat is your errand?"

  "I have come to inform you, in the name of the A.C.B.'s law,recognized as binding by all air-traffic, that you and your entirecrew are under arrest."

  "Indeed? And then--"

  "I am to take charge of this machine at once, and proceed with it asper further instructions from International Aerial headquarters atWashington."

  "Very interesting news, no doubt," replied the Master, unmoved. "But Icannot examine your credentials, nor can we negotiate matters of suchimportance in so off-hand a manner. This gallery will not serve. Prayaccompany me to my cabin?"

  "_Parfaitement, monsieur!_ I await your pleasure!"

  The stranger's gesture, his bow, proclaimed the Parisian as well ashis speech. The Master nodded. All three proceeded in silence tothe hooded companion-way at the forward end of the take-off, thatsheltered the ladder. This they descended, to the main corridor.

  There they paused, a moment.

  "Major," said the Master, "pardon me, but I wish to speak toour--guest, alone. You understand."

  The major's glance conveyed a world of indignant protest, but heobeyed in silence. When he had withdrawn into the smoke-room, wherea brooding pipe would ill divert his mind from various wildspeculations, the Master slid open his own cabin door, and extended ahand of welcome toward it.

  "_Apres vous, monsieur!_" said he.

  The A.C.B. officer entered, his vigorous, compact figure alive withenergy, intelligence. The Master followed, slid the door shut andmotioned to a chair beside the desk. This chair, of metal, was itselfplaced upon a metal plate. The plate was new. At our last sight of thecabin, it had not been there.

  Taking off goggles and gauntlets, and throwing open his sheepskinjacket, the Frenchman sat down. The Master also plate was new. At ourlast sight of the cabin, it had not been there.

  Taking off goggles and gauntlets, and throwing open his sheepskinjacket, the Frenchman sat down. The Master also sat down at the desk.A brief silence, more pregnant than any speech, followed. Each mannarrowly appraised the other. Then said the newcomer, still in thatadmirable French of his:

  "You understand, of course, _n'est-ce pas?_ that it is useless tooffer any resistance to the authority of the A.C.B."

  "May I take the liberty of inquiring what your credentials may be, andwith whom I have the great pleasure of speaking?" returned the Master.His eyes, mirroring admiration, peered with some curiosity at thedark, lean face of the Frenchman.

  "I," answered the other, "am Lieutenant Andre Leclair, formerly ofthe French flying forces, now a commander in the International AirPolice."

  "Leclair?" demanded the Master quickly, his face lighting with aglad surprise. "Leclair, of the Mesopotamian campaign? Leclair, theworld-famous ace?"

  "Leclair, nothing else. I deprecate the adjectives."

  The Master's hand went out. The other took it. For a moment their gripheld, there under the bright white illumination of the cabin--for,though daylight had begun fingering round the drawn curtains, theglow-lamps still were burning.

  The hand-clasp broke. Leclair began:

  "As for you, monsieur, I already know you, of course. You are--"

  The Master raised a palm of protest.

  "Who I am does not matter," said he. "I am not a man, but an idea. Mypersonality does not count. All that counts is the program, the plan Istand for.

  "Many here do not even know my name. No man speaks it. I am quiteanonymous; quite so. Therefore I pray you, keep silent on that matter.What, after all, is the significance of a name? You are an ace, anofficer. So am I."

  "True, very true. Therefore I more keenly regret the fact that I mustplace you under arrest, and that charges of piracy in the high airmust be lodged against you."

  "Thank you for the regret, indeed," answered the Master dryly. Savefor the fact that this strange man never laughed and seldom smiled,one would have thought the odd twinkle in his eye prefaced merriment."Well, what now?"

  The Frenchman produced a silver cigarette-case, opened it and extendedit toward the man now technically his prisoner. As yet he had said noword concerning the tremendous execution done the air police forces.His offer of the cigarettes was as calm, as courteous as if they twohad met under circumstances of the most casual amity. The Master wavedthe cigarettes away.

  "Thank you, no," said he. "I never smoke. But you will perhaps pardonme if I nibble two or three of these khat leaves. You yourself, fromyour experience in Oriental countries, know the value of khat."

  "I do, indeed," said the other, his eyes lighting up.

  "And may I offer you a few leaves?"

  "_Merci_! I thank you, but tobacco still satisfies." The Frenchmanlighted his cigarette, blew thin smoke, and cast intelligent, keeneyes about the cabin. Said he:

  "You will not, of course, offer any resistance. I realize that I amhere among a large crew of men. I am all alone, it is true. You couldeasily overpower me, throw me into the sea, and _voila_--I die. Butthat would not be of any avail to you.

  "Already
perhaps a hundred and fifty air police have fallen thismorning. It is strange. I do not understand, but such is the fact.Nevertheless, I am here, myself. I have survived--survived, to conveyorganized society's message of arrest. Individuals do not count.They are only representatives of the mass-power of society. _N'est-cepas?_"

  "Quite correct. And then--"

  "Sooner or later you must land somewhere for petrol, you know. For_essence_, eh? Just as sea-pirates were wiped out by the coming ofsteam-power, which they had to adopt and which forced them to callat ports for coal, so air-pirates will perish because they must haveessence. That is entirely obvious. Have I the honor of your signedsurrender, my dear sir, including that of all your men?"

  "Just one question, please!"

  "A thousand, if you like," smiled the Parisian, inhaling smoke. Hiscourtesy was perfect, but the glint of his eye made one think of atiger that purrs, with claws ready to strike.

  "What," demanded the Master, "is your opinion of the peculiar andsudden fall of all your companions?"

  "I have no opinion as to that. Strange air-currents, failure ofignition due to lack of oxygen--how do I know? A thousand things mayhappen in the air."

  "Not to more than a hundred planes, all in a half-hour."

  The Frenchman shrugged indifferent shoulders and smiled.

  "It does not signify, in the least," he murmured. "I am here. Thatsuffices."

  "Do you realize that I, perhaps, have forces at my command which maynegative ordinary conditions and recognized laws?"

  "Nothing can negative the forces of organized society. I repeat myrequest, _monsieur_, for your unconditional written surrender."

  The Master's hand slid over the desk and rested a moment on a buttonthere. A certain slight tremor passed through the Frenchman's body.Into his eyes leaped an expression of wonder, of astonishment. Hismouth quivered, as if he would have spoken; but he remained dumb.The hand that held his cigarette, resting on his knee, relaxed; thecigarette fell, smoldering, to the metal plate. And on the instant thefire in it died, extinguished by some invisible force.

  "Are you prepared to sign a receipt for this airship, if I deliver herover to you, sir?" demanded the Master, still speaking in French. Hesmiled oddly.

  No answer. A certain swelling of the Frenchman's throat becamevisible, and his lips twitched slightly, but no sound was audible. Adull flush mounted over his bronzed cheek.

  "Ah, you do not answer?" asked the other, with indulgent patronage."I assume, however, that you have the authority to accept my surrenderand that of my crew. I assume, also, that you are willing to sign forthe airship." He opened a drawer, took a paper, and on it wrote a fewwords. These he read over carefully, adding a comma, a period.

  Leclair watched him with fixed gaze, struggling against some strangeparalysis that bound him with unseen cords of steel. The Frenchman'seyes widened, but remained unblinking with a sort of glazed fixity.The Master slid the paper toward him on the desk.

  "_Voila, monsieur!_" said he. "Will you sign this?"

  A shivering tremor of the Frenchman's muscles, as the ace sat there sostrangely silent and motionless, betrayed the effort he was makingto rise, to lift even a hand. Beads of sweat began to ooze on hisforehead; veins to knot there Still he remained seated, without powerto speak or move.

  "What? You do not accept?" asked the Master, frowning as withpuzzlement and displeasure. "But, _allons donc!_ this is strangeindeed. Almost as strange as the fact that your whole air-squadron,with the sole exception of your own plane, was dropped through theclouds.

  "I have no wish unnecessarily to trouble your mind. Let me state thefacts. Not one of those machines was precipitated into the sea. Nolife was lost. Ah, that astonishes you?"

  The expression in the Frenchman's face betrayed intense amazement,through his eyes alone. The rest of his features remained almostimmobile. The Master smiling, continued:

  "The fleet was dropped to exactly one thousand feet above the sea.There the inhibition on the engines was released and the engines beganfunctioning again. So no harm was done. But not one of those machinescan rise again higher than one thousand feet until I so choose.

  "They are all hopelessly outdistanced, far down there below thecloud-floor. Midges could catch a hawk as readily as _they_ couldoverhaul this Eagle of the Sky.

  "Nowhere within a radius of twenty-five miles can any of those planesrise to our level. This is curious, but true. In the same way, on muchthe same principle, though through a very different application of it,you cannot speak or move until I so desire. All your voluntary musclesare completely, even though temporarily, paralyzed. The involuntaryones, which carry on your vital processes, are untouched.

  "In one way, _monsieur_, you are as much alive as ever In another youare almost completely dead. Your fleet has enjoyed the distinction ofhaving been the very first to serve as the object of a most importantexperiment. Likewise, your own person has had the honor of servingas material for another experiment, equally important--an experimentwhose effect on your body is similar to that of the first one on theair-fleet.

  "You can hear me, perfectly. You can see me. I ask you to watch meclosely. Then consider, if you please, the matter of placing me underarrest."

  His hand touched a small disk near the button he had first pressed;a disk of some strange metal, iridescent, gleaming with a peculiargreenish patina that, even as one watched it, seemed to blend intoother shades, as an oil-scum transmutes its hues on water.

  Now a faint, almost inaudible hum began to make itself heard. This humwas not localized. One could not have told exactly whence it came. Itfilled the cabin with a kind of soft murmuring that soothed the senseslike the drowsy undertone of bees at swarm.

  For a moment nothing happened. Then the pupils of Leclair's eyes beganto dilate with astonishment. Immovable though he still remained, themost intense wonder made itself apparent in his look. Even somethingakin to fear was mirrored in his gaze. Again his lips twitched. Thoughhe could form no word, a dry, choking gasp came from his throat.

  And there was cause for astonishment; yes, even for fear. A thingwas beginning to take place, there in the brightly lighted cabin of_Nissr_, such as man's eye never yet had beheld.

  The Master was disappearing.