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Title: The Devolutionist and The Emancipatrix

Author: Homer Eon Flint

Release Date: June, 2004  [EBook #5965]
[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
[This file was first posted on October 1, 2002]

Edition: 10

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE DEVOLUTIONIST AND THE EMANCIPATRIX ***




Charles Franks and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.



THE DEVOLUTIONIST

And THE EMANCIPATRIX

By Homer Eon Flint






I

OUT OF THEIR MINDS





"Remember, now; don't make a sound, no matter what you see!"

Mrs. Kinney eyed her caller anxiously as they came to a pause in
front of the door. His glance widened at her caution, but he nodded
briefly. She turned the key in the lock.

Next second the two stepped softly into the room. Mrs. Kinney
carefully closed and locked the door behind them; and meanwhile the
man, peering closely into the shadows of the place, made out a scene
of such strangeness that he nearly forgot the woman's injunction.

The room was the private study of Dr. William Kinney. In itself, it
was not at all out of the ordinary. Shelves of books, cases of
surgical and psychological instruments, star charts, maps and
astronomical apparatus--these told at once both the man's vocation
and avocation. With these contents and rather severe furnishings the
room was merely interesting, not remarkable.

But its four chairs certainly were. Each of them was occupied by a
human being; and as Mrs. Kinney and her caller entered, neither of
the four so much as stirred. They were all asleep.

In the nearest chair was the doctor himself, half sitting and half
reclining; in fact, all four of the sleepers were in attitudes of
complete relaxation. The doctor's gray head was resting on one
shoulder wearily.

On his left was a man of medium height and commonplace countenance.
"Mr. Smith," whispered Mrs. Kinney, placing her mouth close to the
caller's ear, so that he might hear the better.

Opposite these two sat a man and a woman, their chairs placed close
together. The one was a slender, well-dressed, boyishly good looking
young woman of perhaps thirty; the other a large, aggressively
handsome fellow possibly five years older. "Mr. and Mrs. Van Emmon,"
explained Mrs. Kinney, still in a whisper.

The four sat absolutely motionless; the caller, looking very
closely, could hardly make out the rising and falling of their
chests as they breathed. Also, he saw that they were all connected,
the one with the other by means of insulated wires which ran to
brass bracelets around their wrists. At one point in this curious
circuit, a wire ran to a small group of electrical appliances placed
on a pedestal at the doctor's side; while the caller was still
further puzzled to note that each of the sleepers was resting his or
her feet on a stool, the legs of which, like the legs of each chair,
were tipped with glass.

After a minute of this the caller turned upon Mrs. Kinney in such
complete bewilderment that she instantly unlocked the door, and
again cautioning perfect silence, led the way into the corridor.
Here she again locked the door. Upon leaving the spot, a quiet young
man with keen gray eyes stepped from a room opposite, and at a nod
from Mrs. Kinney proceeded to do sentry duty outside the study.

Once down-stairs and safely within the living-room--

"This is rather mean of you Mrs. Kinney!" protested the man. "Tell
me all about it, quick!"

The lady complacently took a chair. "Well," she remarked innocently,
"I knew you'd want to see him."

"Yes, but--"

"It serves you right," she went on blithely, "for staying away so
long. Let's see--you left a year ago June, didn't you, Mr. Hill?"

He swallowed something and managed to reply, "Great guns, yes! I've
been in the wilds of New Guinea for a year--without news of any
kind! I saw my first newspaper on board the dirigible this morning!"

"Ah, well," commented Mrs. Kinney provokingly, "you'll have to be
humored, I suppose." She cogitated unnecessarily long, then left the
room to get a folio of newspapers and magazines. One of these she
selected with great deliberation, and opened it at the leading
article. Even then she would not hand it over right away. "You
remember that sky-car idea of the doctor's, don't you?"

"His machine to explore space? He couldn't talk of anything else
when I--you don't mean to say"--incredulously--"that he made a
success of that!"

"He certainly did. Took a three weeks' tour of the planets, month
before last!"

Hill stared in amazement, then leaned forward suddenly and whisked
the magazine out of Mrs. Kinney's fingers. He held the paper with
hands that trembled in excitement; and this is what he read, in the
matter-of-fact black-and-white of The Scientific New Zealander:

            STAR EXPLORERS RETURN

    Dr. Kinney and Party Visit Venus and Mercury

Bringing proofs which will satisfy the most skeptical, Dr. William
G. Kinney, G. Van Emmon, E. Williams Jackson, and John W. Smith, who
left the earth on December 9 in a powerful sky-car of the doctor's
design, returned on the 23rd, after having explored the two planets
which lie between the earth and the sun.

They found Mercury to be a dead world, like the moon, except that it
once supported a civilization nearly as advanced as our own. They
tell of a giant human, a veritable colossus, who was the planet's
last survivor.

But on Venus they discovered people still living! They are
marvelously developed people, infinitely more advanced than the
people of the earth, and enjoying a civilization that is well-nigh
incredible. Among other things, they have learned how to visit other
worlds without themselves leaving their planet. They do it by a kind
of telepathy; they know all about us here on the earth; and they
have accumulated data regarding the peoples of hundreds of thousands
of other planets! The four explorers are able to prove their
statements beyond the shadow of doubt. They possess photographs
which speak for themselves; they have brought back relics from
Mercury and materials from Venus, such as never existed on the
earth. They submit a vast library of extraordinarily advanced
scientific literature, which was given to them by the Venusians.

The article went on to detail, to the extent of some eight or ten
pages, the main features of the exploration. Hill, however, did not
stop to read it all just then. He looked up, his thoughts flying to
the strange scene in the room up-stairs. "What are they
doing--recuperating?"

"Not exactly." Mrs. Kinney was a little disappointed. "Here--let me
point out the paragraph." And she ran a finger down the column until
it indicated this line:

Among other things they have learned how to visit other worlds
without themselves leaving their planet. They do this by a kind of
telepathy.

"That's the explanation," Mrs. Kinney said quietly. Hill fairly
blinked when he read the paragraph. "They are trying out one of the
Venusian experiments?"

"Of course; you know the doctor. He couldn't resist the temptation.
And I must say the others are just as bad.

"Mr. Smith is quite as much interested as Mr. Van Emmon. Mr. Smith
is an electrical engineer; the other man is a geologist, and a very
adventurous spirit. As for Mrs. Van Emmon--"

"But this account mentions"--Hill referred to the magazine--"'E.
Williams Jackson.' Who was he?"

"She--not he. Mrs. Van Emmon now; she used to be an architect. She
had the other three fooled for ten days; she passed herself off as a
man!"

But Hill was too absorbed in the general strangeness of the affair
to note this amazing item. He again glanced at the article, opened
his mouth once or twice as though to ask a question, thought better
of it each time, and finally got to his feet.

"Let me have this?" referring to the magazine.

Mrs. Kinney handed over the rest of the collection.

"I am sure the doctor would want you to read them. I remember he
said, just before they started away, that he wished you could have
gone with him."

"Did he?" much pleased. Hill made some affectionate remark, under
his breath about "the star-gazing old fraud"; then, evidently in a
hurry to get off by himself and read, he made his excuses and left
the house.

Mrs. Kinney returned to the book she had been reading, glanced at
the clock, and noted that it was almost at the hour, previously
agreed upon, that she should arouse the four up-stairs. She put the
book down and started toward the stairs.

At that instant a large gong sounded in the hall. In the study
up-stairs, the doctor's hand moved away from a pushbutton. He
stirred in his chair; and as he did so, the other three awakened.
First Van Emmon, then "Billie," his wife, and lastly the engineer.

Next second all four were sitting bolt upright, and looking at each
other eagerly.






II

BACK ON EARTH





"Talk about results!" Billie was first to speak. "Why--where do you
suppose I found myself? Out in mid-ocean, in a small boat, with the
spray flying into my--that is, into the face of--" She broke off,
confused.

"Your agent?" the doctor put in. All Billie could do was to nod; Van
Emmon was bursting to talk.

"My agent was a Parisian apache, or I'm a bum guesser! I didn't
catch all that was going on, but it certainly sounded like the plans
and specifications of a garroting!"

"No such excitement here," said Smith. But his eyes were sparkling.
"I was going the rounds with a mail-carrier. How do you explain
that, doc? I've never given mail-carrying a second thought."

"That would have nothing to do with it. As for myself, I was looking
through the eyes of some member of the House of Representatives, in
Washington. I recognized the building. They were calling the roll at
the time."

He paused while he made a note of the incident, for the sake of
checking up the hour with the newspaper accounts later on. Then he
rubbed the knuckles of one hand in the palm of the other--a habit
which indicated that a diagnosis was going on in his mind. The
others waited expectantly.

"There's a big difference," commented he, thoughtfully, "between
these experiences and our last experiments. Then, each of us knew
exactly what to expect. Each had a definite image of a certain
particular person in mind when he went into the teleconscious state.
That made it comparatively easy for us to communicate the way we
did, even when you"--indicating the bride and groom--"were still in
Japan.

"But to-day neither of us had the slightest idea what was coming.
That is, if we followed the rule. Did you"--addressing Smith--"take
care to concentrate strictly upon the one idea of view-point?"

"Nothing else. I kept my attention fixed upon eyes and ears, only,
just as the instructions read."

"Same here," answered Billie, for herself and the geologist.

"Then we know this much: So long as the four of us are connected up
in this fashion"--holding up his braceleted wrists--"we combine our
forces to such an extent that we do not need a definite object. It's
simply the power of harmony."

Billie was anxious to get it down pat. "In other words, there's
nothing to prevent me from locating some one, although unknown to
me, so long as we four agree upon the same locality?"

"That's it exactly. If we agree to concentrate upon Greenland, even,
we shall find four people there whose view-points resemble our own.
The main thing is to find similar view-points."

There was some discussion along this line, in which the doctor made
it clear that view-point was simply another name for perspective,
and that it had nothing whatever to do with actual mental
accomplishments. The view-point was really the soul.

"As yet," he went on, "we should make no attempt to 'put ourselves
in the other fellow's place.' Such efforts require a violent
exertion of the imagination, and we need practice before tackling
the more advanced problems.

"Time enough, after a while, to get in touch with the Venusians.
There's none of them that has a view-point like ours. And once we've
done that--"

"What?" from Billie, breathlessly.

"Anything! The whole universe will be open to us! Why, I understand
from reading these books"--indicating the Venusian manuscripts--"that
there is such a thing as an intelligent creature, so utterly unlike
ourselves that--" He stopped short.

"For the time being," said Smith quickly, "we'd better be content
with something familiar. Is there some other planet in our solar
system that would do, doc?"

"No. According to the Venusians, the only others that are habitable
besides Venus and the earth, are Mars and Jupiter. And it seems that
the people on these two are so totally different--"

"We couldn't get an answer?"

"Very unlikely. Besides, I am having the cube refitted for a
two-months' cruise. Rather thought I'd like to visit Mars and
Jupiter in person.

"But when it comes to leaving the solar system entirely the
telepathic method is the only one that will work; even the nearest
of the fixed stars is out of the question."

"How far is that?" Smith inquired.

"The nearest? About four and a half light-years."

"Yes, but what's a light-year?"

"It amounts to sixty-three thousand times the distance from here to
the sun!"

Smith whistled. "Nothing doing in the cube, that's sure. Besides,
could we expect to find any people like us in the neighborhood of
that star?"

"Not Alpha Centauri." The doctor reached for one of the Venusian
books, and pointed out certain pages. "It seems that the Class IIa
stars--that is, suns--are the only ones which have planets in the
right condition for the development of humans. The astronomers
already suspected as much, by the way. But the Venusians have
definitely named a few systems whose evolution has reached points
almost identical with that of the earth.

"Now, until we have acquired a certain amount of ability"
--examining the books more closely--"our best chance will lie in the
neighborhood of a giant star known to us as Capella."

"Capella." Billie had drawn a star-chart to her side. "Where is that
located?"

"In Auriga, about half-way from Orion to the Pole Star. She's a big
yellow sun.

"At any rate, the Venusians say that this particular planet of
Capella's has people almost exactly the same as those of the earth,
except"--speaking very clearly--"except that they have had about one
century more civilization!"

Billie exclaimed with delight. "Say--this is going to be the best
yet! To think of seeing what the earth is going to be like, a
hundred years from now!"

Instantly Van Emmon's interest became acute. "By George! Is that
right, doc? Are we likely to learn what the next hundred years will
do for us?"

"Don't know exactly." The doctor spoke cautiously. "That's merely
what I infer from these books."

"If we do," ran on the geologist excitedly, "we'll see how a lot of
our present day theories will be worked out! I'm curious to see what
comes of them. Personally, I think most of them are plain nonsense!"

"That remains to be seen." The doctor glanced around. "Remember:
what we want is the view-point only; and the place is Capella's
planetary system. Ready?"

For answer the others leaned back in their chairs. The doctor
touched the button at his side, as a signal to his wife; he settled
himself in his chair; and in a minute his head was dropping over
against his shoulder. In another second the minds of the four
experimenters were out of their bodies; out, and in the twinkling of
an eye, traversing space at absolute speed.

For thought, like gravitation, is instantaneous.






III

SMITH'S MIND WANDERS





Secretly Smith hoped he might find an agent who also was an
engineer. He had this in mind all the while he was repeating the
Venusian formula, the sequence of thought-images which was
necessary to bring on the required state of mind. The formula had
the effect of closing his mind to all save telepathic energy, and
opening wide the channels through which it controlled the brain.

No sooner had he repeated the words, meanwhile concentrating with
all the force of his newly trained will upon the single idea of
seeing and hearing what was happening on the unknown, yet quite
knowable planet--no sooner had his head sunk on his chest than he
became aware of a strange sound.

On all sides unseen apparatus gave forth a medley of subdued jars
and clankings. A variety of hissing sounds also were distinguishable.
And meanwhile Smith was staring hard, with the eyes he had borrowed
along with the ears, at a pair of human hands.

These hands were manipulating a group of highly polished levers and
hand-wheels. So long as his borrowed sight was fixed upon that group
Smith was entirely ignorant of the surroundings. All he could
surmise was that his agents operated some sort of machinery.

Then the agent glanced up; and Smith got his first shock. For he now
saw a cluster of indicating dials, such as one may see on the
instrument board of any automobile; but the trained engineer found
himself absolutely unable to interpret one of them. They were marked
with unknown figures!

Nevertheless, the engineer received an unmistakable impression,
quite as vivid as though something had been said aloud. "Progress;
all safe," was the thought-image that came to him.

He listened closely in hope of hearing a spoken word. Also, he tried
his best to make his agent look around the place. Other people might
be within sight. However, for a couple of minutes the oddly familiar
hands kept manipulating the unfamiliar instruments.

Then, somewhere quite close at hand, a deep-toned gong sounded a
single stroke. Instantly the agent looked up; and Smith saw that he
was inspecting the interior of a large engine-room. He had time to
note the huge bulk of a horizontal cylinder, perhaps fifty feet in
diameter, in the immediate background; also a variety of other
mechanisms, more like immensely enlarged editions of laboratory
apparatus than ordinary engines. Smith looked in vain for the
compact form of a dynamo or motor, and listened in vain for the
sound of either. Then, in swift succession, came two strokes on the
unseen gong, followed by a shrill whistle.

Smith's borrowed eyes became fixed upon that group of dials again.
Their indicators began to shift, some rapidly, some slowly. Once the
agent gave a swift glance through a round window--the place seemed
to be lighted by ordinary daylight--and Smith saw something
unrecognizable flit by.

A little further progress, and then came three strokes on the gong,
followed by a low thrumming. In response to these, the agent
deliberately picked out two levers, and pulled them down. When his
glance returned to the dials, one of them showed immense
acceleration.

By and by came another triple clanging, another pair of levers was
pulled down, and instantly the jarring and clanking gave way to a
decided rumble, low and distinct, but so powerful that it shook the
air. At the same time the agent quit his post and went over to the
giant horizontal cylinder.

Now Smith could see that this vast structure was merely part of an
engine whose dimensions were quite beyond any former experience. It
was a simple affair, being merely a reciprocal machine like the most
elementary form of steam engine. But, instead of being operated by
steam, it was a chemical machine; Smith's trained eyes told him that
the cylinder was really an enormous retort. And he noted with
further perplexity that the prodigious piston-rod not only moved
with terrific speed, but in a strictly back-and-forth motion; its
far end did not revolve.

The agent seemed satisfied with it all. He turned about and
walked--so far as Smith could sense in the usual manner of earth's
humans--back to the dials again. Just then a door opened a short
distance away and another man entered.

Smith would have mistaken him for the employee of some garage. He
was dressed in a suit of greasy blue overalls; and as he advanced
toward the eyes Smith was using, he looked about the room with
practiced glance. He merely nodded to Smith's man, who returned the
nod just as silently; and such was the extreme brevity of it all,
Smith was afterward unable to describe the man.

His agent, thus relieved of his duty temporarily, strolled out
another door, which took him through a narrow corridor and another
door, opening on to some sort of a balcony, or deck. Smith fully
expected to look upon an ocean.

Instead, he found himself gazing into a sea of clouds. He was in
some sort of aircraft!

Next moment, quite as though it had all been prearranged, a large
sky-cruiser hove into sight perhaps a quarter of a mile away. It
seemed to materialize out of the clouds, and rapidly bore down upon
the craft in which the agent stood.

But the practical man of the earth was eying the air-ship in
increasing amazement. For it was truly a ship; a huge vessel
wonderfully like one of the old-fashioned freighters which used to
sail the seas of the earth. What was more, it had four tall, sloping
masts, each spread with something remarkably like canvas; and that
whole incredible hulk was actually swinging in mid air!

Looking closer, Smith saw that the masts were exceedingly tall; they
held enough canvas to propel ten ships. And each stick sloped back
at so sharp an angle--much sharper than forty-five degrees--that the
wind not only blew the craft along in its course, but actually
supported it as well.

It meant a wind which would make a hurricane seem tame. Either that,
or air with greater density than any Smith knew about.

Suddenly the cruiser came about into the wind, and at the same
instant it began to take in sail, all the sheets furling in unison.
Simultaneously great finlike wings shot out of slits in the sides of
the hull; and immediately they began to beat the air, back and
forth, back and forth, with the speed and motion of swallows.

So this was the meaning of the giant reciprocal engine! Instead of
the screw propeller which characterized earth's aircraft, these
vessels employed the true bird principle, combining it with the
simple methods of primitive sailing craft.

As soon as the ship stopped its wind-driven rush and began to employ
its wings, the speed straightway slackened; and the ships began to
descend. About the same time the figures of several people appeared
on what might be called the bridge; and assuming that these people
were as large as the man whom Smith had seen enter the engine-room--a
chap of average height--then that ship, in proportion, was all of a
mile long!

But Smith's awe was not shared by his agent, who turned
indifferently away and looked about the sky as though in search of
other sights. In doing so, he leaned over the deck's railing; and
Smith saw the sheer sides of the giant ship, extending fore and aft
almost indefinitely; while far overhead billowed vast clouds of
white cloth. The vessel was now under sail.

About a mile higher up, and almost that distance to one side, the
agent's eyes made out two tiny specks. He watched them closely for a
moment as they pitched and tossed queerly about; then darted into
the engine-room, secured a pair of binoculars of an old, squat
pattern, and swiftly focused upon the nearer of the two.

Smith instantly sensed a disaster. The object was a small air-craft,
of a sort entirely strange to the engineer; yet he knew that it was
disabled. One of its queer wings was broken and fluttering, as the
little machine dropped, tumbling and twisting erratically, in an
inexplicably slow fashion toward the unseen ground. Smith glimpsed a
single figure, presumably strapped in the seat.

Then the focus changed to cover the other machine. It was of the
same type; and Smith saw that it was swooping in a steep spiral, its
driver leaning over in his seat, looking down.

Next moment the two were in focus together. Every second they
dropped closer and closer to Smith's borrowed eyes. And in less time
than it takes to tell it, they had come so close that when the
occupant of the disabled craft lurched heavily to one side, Smith
could plainly make out the long, flying hair of a woman.

She was unconscious, and strapped in!

Her craft capsized. At the same time the other driver--a
man--maneuvered so as to spiral exactly around the wreck as it fell.
When it came right side up again--now only a half a mile away--he
drove down so close that his machine nearly grazed the woman's head.
As he did so, he leaned over and tried to unfasten her. But the
unsteadiness of her craft prevented this.

He made a second try. This time his own machine narrowly escaped
injury; he steered it hastily away from that damaged wing. And then
he made a supreme effort.

Bringing his machine directly across the top of the other as it once
more righted itself, he touched one of his controls, so that his own
flier's spiral increased in steepness. Straightening up, he poised
himself while he coolly measured the distance; and then he calmly
leaped a matter of ten or twelve feet, over and down to the top of
the other craft.

The shock of his landing steadied it. Clinging fast with one hand,
the man bent and unbuckled the woman's strap. Next instant he had
lifted her, a dead weight, into his arms and then over his
shoulders.

His own machine was still scooting downward, its speed even greater
than that of the broken flier. When the man saw it swinging past and
below him, he instantly clambered, burden and all, to the edge of
the cockpit. For a second he stood, balancing precariously; and
then, half jumping, half diving, he plunged once more.

Man and woman landed in a heap in the sound machine. In a flash the
rescuer snatched his controls, and tried with all his might to
"straighten out." But it began to skid; and Smith saw, despite the
shakiness with which his excited agent held the binoculars, that the
craft was hopelessly out of control. Next instant the man caught
sight of the ship, not a hundred yards away; and steered straight
for her.

Smith's agent rushed back to the engine-room, where he immediately
located a new group of instruments. Smith recognized a telephone and
some wireless apparatus; then found himself staring into some sort
of a compound mirror system. Probably it was an illuminated tunnel
affair, opening into a long white cabin. Seemingly the place was an
emergency-ward.

A moment later the unconscious forms of the two aviators were
brought within perhaps twenty feet. Smith could hear nothing; the
apparatus seemed made for looking only. But he saw the doctors hurry
in, saw restoratives administered, and saw both people revive.

The man was first to become conscious. He looked around, seemed to
take in the situation at a glance, and swiftly got to his feet. The
doctors laid restraining hands upon him, but he shook them off with
a laugh.

He was a powerfully built man, considerably taller than normal and
very deep in the chest. He was decidedly blond, and good looking in
a cheerful, reckless sort of way.

His concern was for the woman. She regained her senses in half a
minute, and shortly was sitting up and looking around. And Smith,
ordinarily unobservant of the other sex, found himself staring with
all his eyes.

She was young; for that matter, the man was under thirty, also. And
the white bandage on her forehead only emphasized the dark eyes and
vivid coloring of her face. Smith was half angry that he could not
see her more distinctly. He decided that every feature was
exquisitely modeled, that he had never seen such delicate lines, nor
eyes as large, as appealing and as soft.

Then he was watching the man again. He approached the woman and took
her outstretched hand. He was laughing easily; she, smiling
tremulously and gratefully. They looked into one another's eyes
quite as though there were no one else in the cabin to be looked at.
Next second one of the doctors stepped up bruskly, and Smith saw a
swift blush come to the girl's cheeks. The man reddened, too, and
turned away laughing to hide his confusion.

Smith's connection with his agent ended right there. When he
reported to the other three, later on, he had to admit that, so far
as he knew, the man and the girl were still holding hands.






IV

NEW HEARTS FOR OLD





Billie's experience was totally different. She found herself
transformed into a mental humming-bird.

Her mind seemed to be darting with infinite rapidity, here and there
throughout the universe. She got only the most lightninglike glimpse
of any one spot; flash after flash of unfamiliar, indescribable
situations succeeded each other like the speeded-up scenes of a
photoplay farce. For an unguessable length of time this
helter-skelter process occupied her mind.

Then there came a scene which stayed. It was dim at first; she was
more thoroughly aware of the sound of voices than anything else.
Then she saw clearly.

She--that is, her agent--was in some sort of a room, giving
instructions to a group of white-clad figures. Before Billie could
concentrate upon what was being said the talk ceased; and next
moment, amid perfect silence, the agent bent over something which
lay on a high table.

Whereupon Billie got a severe jolt. For, unless she was most
woefully mistaken, the thing she was now looking at was the
unconscious form of a patient; the place was the operating-room of a
hospital; and the eyes she was using belonged to a surgeon.

She watched breathlessly. The surgeon's nimble fingers proceeded
with the utmost unconcern to open wide the patient's torso. Other
pairs of hands, belonging to nurses, aided in this; and Billie found
the intricate process decidedly interesting rather than otherwise.
Of course she was spared the odor of blood.

As soon as the ribs were entirely displaced, the lungs were
carefully laid aside. Extraordinary delicacy seemed called for here.
Billie shortly began to wonder if it were not high time to quit when
her agent, assisted as before, calmly exposed the patient's heart to
full view.

Billie could see it throbbing; more, she could hear it. She watched
in wonder for the next step.

They consisted in forcibly untangling the mass of tubes and arteries
all about the organ. Presently everything was clear; and then,
without delay, the nurses brought forward a strange-looking device.

It was of silver, shaped like a flattened egg, and a trifle smaller
than that laboring, human blood-pump; To it was attached a pair of
long, flexible, silver pipes, which led to Billie knew not where.
And near one extremity the egg was provided with eight curious
nozzles.

At times the flying hands partly interfered with Billie's vision;
yet she saw nearly all that amazing process, from beginning to end.
To put it briefly, the eight nozzles were boldly introduced, almost
at a single operation, into tiny incisions in the eight
corresponding tubes of the heart. In they were forced, until they
filled the arteries and veins; and once inserted, silver clamps were
instantly tightened on the outsides of the tubes. All this was done
in two or three seconds; and when all was complete, the heart itself
had been entirely isolated and its place absolutely taken by that
little silver egg.

The patient gave no sign that anything out of the ordinary had
occurred. Not a drop of blood had been spilled except in the process
of getting at the organ; but now, with a few deft motions of certain
instruments, the heart was sliced away from the surrounding tissues,
the tubes were severed, and the whole powerful pump, still beating
faintly, was removed from the body altogether.

Next, the surgeon proceeded to stanch the bleeding of the tubes;
that is, of the stubs projecting below those tight silver nozzles.
This done, the nimble fingers calmly replaced the lungs and other
items, quite as though they were reassembling a piece of machinery.
Lastly, the opening was sewed up in a manner which would have
delighted any seamstress.

The two long silver pipes were left protruding. Now, for the first
time, Billie saw where they led to.

On a stand alongisde the operating-table stood an extremely small,
flat box, with its lid open. The pipes ended there. And as the
surgeon inspected the outfit Billie saw that it comprised, in
effect, a pair of diminutive air-pumps. There were two tiny dials, a
regulating device, some sort of an automatic electric switch, and
what looked like a steel storage tank; all on a watchlike scale.

Looking more closely, Billie made out two pairs of electric wires
running from this case to another of the same size. The surgeon
lifted its lid, disclosing two electric storage batteries, each with
its own circuit.

In short, the arrangement provided duplicate sources, in vest-pocket
size, of power for operating a mechanical heart. The electricity
worked the air-pumps, which in turn supplied the little silver
egg--implanted in the patient--with both pressure and vacuum, while
doubtless the artificial organ itself housed a valve system which
did the rest. The regulating device kept the blood circulating at
the proper rate.

The surgeon seemed satisfied with it all, and, after another
critical examination of the patient, glanced about the room,
straightened up, took a deep breath, and spoke:

"Quick work. Thanks very much, everybody."

And Billie did not know which to be the more astonished at: the fact
that the voice was unmistakably a woman's, or that she, Billie, was
able to understand all that was said. She did not fully appreciate
until afterward that it was her own brain which did the translating;
the surgeon's subconscious mind had merely furnished a thought-image
which would have been exactly the same, regardless of language.

"Any special instructions, Surgeon Aldor?" inquired one of the
white-clad, face-swathed figures.

"No. The usual handling. Simply keep the batteries charged in
rotation."

The surgeon took off a mouth mask and a blood-soaked apron, and then
swiftly washed her hands. Next she stepped briskly from the room;
and the architect who was using her eyes rejoiced to see the
door-knobs of the standard height of thirty-five inches, indicating
that this agent of hers was of about her own height. From the sound
of her footsteps, however, Billie concluded that she was somewhat
heavier than herself.

Reaching another room, the surgeon proceeded to don hat and coat.
Next, she stepped in front of a long mirror; but the action was so
quick, and it took Billie so completely by surprise, she was not
able to inspect the image closely. To be frank, she looked first at
the woman's clothes, finding that her suit was a very trim affair of
blue leather, cut in a semi-military fashion. Slashes of dark-red
material across the sleeves were repeated about the collar, while
the cap, a jaunty affair with a bell crown, matched the suit. The
lower ends of the breeches, much like ordinary riding trousers, were
tucked into high lace-up boots of red leather.

Before Billie could see any more other than that the surgeon was
small-featured in striking contrast to the robustness of her body,
she stepped from the room. A moment later an automatic elevator took
her to a lower floor, where she was greeted by a person whom Billie
assumed to be a head nurse.

"Anything out of the ordinary, surgeon?"

"No," with a bruskness which was startling by comparison with her
cheeriness upstairs. "I understand that Dr. Norbith wishes to go
home as soon as possible?"

"Yes."

"He may go as soon as the cast is hard. Make sure his machine is a
smooth one."

The nurse simply nodded as the surgeon stepped on, through a very
ordinary pair of sliding doors, and so on out into an anteroom and
thence to a porch, where she stood looking into the street for a
moment.

It was exceedingly broad, and lined on both sides with imposing
structures whose architecture was entirely strange to Billie. She
would liked to have examined them all in detail; but she had no
control over her agent, who straightway walked down a short flight
of steps and thence to a sidewalk.

Here Billie became perfectly willing to neglect the architecture.
People were coming and going; people apparently quite as human as
herself. Except for a certain gorgeous voluminousness of dress, they
seemed for the most part simply men and women of affairs.

For it was comparatively easy to distinguish the sexes. The women's
garments, while not making any display of the strictly feminine
lines, nevertheless did not attempt to disguise them. Billie saw
that loose breeches had completely displaced the skirt with these
women; while the men invariably wore either knickerbockers or some
other form of short trousers; so that the general effect was very
youthful. She saw no men with beards, although several wore their
hair long, down to their shoulders, as though to compensate for
those women who chose to wear theirs short.

The surgeon seemed to have more leisure than most doctors. She stood
for some minutes, greeting perhaps a score of passers-by, all of
whom seemed to be proud of the acquaintance. Presently, however, the
sidewalk became temporarily clear of pedestrians; and then Billie
heard the surgeon mutter something to herself, such as was past all
understanding at the time:

"The fools! The poor, ignorant cattle!"

And she turned and stepped to the middle of the street, where Billie
had already marked a large number of flying-machines. In fact, the
space from curb to curb was practically filled with them, all neatly
parked.

Without exception they were ornithopters; that is, machines built on
the bird-wing principle, sustaining themselves by a flapping motion
rather than by air-pressure due to a propeller. Their size varied
from one-seater affairs of very small size to craft large enough to
hold a score. Most were gaudily painted.

The surgeon's own machine was a two-seater, small but powerful in
design. She stepped up a short ladder into a comfortable cockpit,
provided with a folding top, which at that time was laid back out of
the way. She proceeded to adjust various levers and hand-wheels,
glanced at certain dials, touched a button, and immediately the
craft took flight, its wings beating the air with a dull leathery
rhythm which drowned out the faint clanking of the machinery.

A moment later the flier was high above the street. To Billie's
disappointment, the surgeon did not glance down enough to tell the
architect whether the street belonged to a city of any size.
Instead, her agent drove carefully through the traffic, which Billie
would have called dangerously dense. She remembered that she had
seen nothing but aircraft in that street; no automobiles at all.

And then the flier was rushing through the air at a lively rate.
Billie caught quick glimpses of innumerable machines, few of which
were moving in the same direction as the surgeon's.

A few minutes more elapsed, and then Billie was experiencing a much
higher level, with the machine flying at what must have been a
tremendous velocity. Shortly it was all but alone in the sky.

After a while the surgeon's eyes made out something far below, which
puzzled Billie exceedingly. It seemed to be a ship under full sail;
only, so far as she could see the craft was resting upon clouds, not
air. It was still a long way ahead.

And then Billie was given a glance aloft, where she saw another
craft, a small flapping affair like the surgeon's. It was just
rising on a long slant so as to cross above her course. And at that
very instant there came a sharp crack, followed by a splintering
crash. The surgeon's flier lurched heavily to one side.

Next second the woman was staring at her left wing. It was broken
about the middle and thrashing wildly. Another instant, and a part
of the thing came loose, flew off, and struck the surgeon on the top
of her head. A muffled cry, and then blackness came.

And the next thing Billie saw was the emergency ward of Smith's
great skycruiser, with the surgeon, blinking as she recovered,
looking up into the smiling face of her big blond rescuer.






V

CAPELLA'S DAUGHTER





The first thing that met the doctor's gaze, when his mind entered
that of his distant agent, was a clock. It was a very ordinary sort
of an instrument, such as one sees in schools and offices; it had
two hands, and a pendulum of the usual size and length.

However, this pendulum was swinging at a very rapid rate; nearly
twice as fast, judged the doctor, as that of his own chronometer.
And its dial was divided into twenty-five equal parts, instead of
twelve, each of these parts being further divided into five equal
portions. At the moment, these two hands indicated what would have
been called, on the earth, about half past three.

Before the doctor could speculate on this, his unknown agent shifted
his gaze to a newspaper on a desk before him. Apparently he was
thinking of something entirely different; for he absently turned the
pages, one by one, his subconscious mind taking it all in.

And the doctor saw that the paper was called simply The Hourly
Journal; that it was of very nearly the size of most sheets; and
that it consisted of about ten pages. The front and back pages,
only, contained news items; the remainder were packed solid with
advertisements. Not one of these were striking enough for the doctor
to remember; he said they were exactly like large-size professional
"cards," except that they applied to every business, from candy to
bridges. As for the news items, each was short, unsensational, with
the simplest kind of head-lines. More the doctor had no chance to
observe.

Abruptly the agent stowed the paper away, and looked up. Presumably
he was seated in some sort of a theater. Directly ahead was the
familiar white rectangle of a photoplay-house screen. And all about
him were heads and shoulders, seemingly belonging to young folks, of
about high-school age. Even to "low necks" for the girls and white
collars for the boys, they were identically like people of the
earth.

In fact, if it had not been for that clock the doctor would have
concluded that there was some mistake, and have ended the
experiment. For some time he learned little; the place was filled
with a confused murmur. His agent, however, took no part in the
conversation that produced this effect; once or twice he yawned.

Suddenly the buzz came to a stop; and next moment a tall figure
stepped upon the platform in front of the screen.

"Class," began this person immediately, "to-day we will summarize
what we have learned during the past week about the solar system of
which our planet is one element."

And as he spoke the doctor saw that there had been no mistake. For,
although the agent's subconscious mind had served to translate what
was said into language understandable by the doctor, yet his eyes
plainly told him that the professor's lips were saying something
else.

There was no doubt about it. For all that the doctor could tell by
watching the speaker's mouth, he might have been talking in Eskimo.
But his meaning was quite as clear as though he had said it in
English.

"We will begin with a picture of the sun herself." As the words were
spoken, a motion-picture film was projected on the screen. The
doctor instantly noted the natural colors, stereoscopic effect, and
marvelous clearness, such as branded this exhibition as not of the
earth. But the professor was saying:

"The sun controls, besides this world, no less than thirty
others"--and the doctor knew, as well as other people know their A B
C's, that the earth's planetary family consists of only eight--"no
less than thirty others, of which eight are now without life." The
speaker turned toward a student on the far left. "Tell us how many
of the thirty are still too hot to support life, Miss Ballens."

The girl did not get to her feet. "Ten," was her answer.

"Which leaves, of course, twelve besides our own planet which now
possess life in one form or another. Mr. Ernol, can you give us some
idea of conditions on any one of these?"

To the doctor's immense satisfaction, the brain whose loan he was
enjoying responded to the question. "On Saloni, the vertebrates have
not yet appeared. None but the lowest forms of life have been
found."

"Is this planet larger or smaller than ours, Mr. Ernol?"

"Larger. It will be a matter of millions of centuries before such
beings as humans are evolved there."

"How do we know these facts?"

As though it were a signal, the entire class, with one accord,
uttered a single word: "Runled!"

And the doctor found his agent's eyes turned, together with those of
every other student in the room, toward the portrait of a highly
intellectual-looking man; it hung in the most conspicuous spot on
the wall.

"We must never forget," continued the man on the platform, "that,
but for the explorations of this man and his space-boat, some eighty
years ago, we should know very little. Can any one tell me why his
explorations have never been repeated?"

Two hands went up. The professor nodded to a girl seated next to the
young fellow whom the doctor now knew as "Ernol." This girl spoke
very clearly: "Because the expedition was extremely costly, and the
commission has never been willing to appropriate enough to duplicate
the work."

"The commission's judgment is, of course, sound," commented the
professor calmly. Then he signaled for a change in the picture,
which had been showing, in rapid succession, glimpses of world after
world. The new picture was more leisurely.

"The planet Alma. Can any one explain why it is of special interest
to us?"

For a moment there was no comment, and the doctor found himself
studying a "panorama" of some exceedingly striking people. There was
quite a crowd; and the doctor was amazed to note how much like the
Venusians they were. Without exception they were delicately built,
with thin, shriveled legs; all were seated, none standing, in
cigar-shaped aircraft of a type entirely new to the doctor.

"The people of Alma," spoke up a boy out of sight of Ernol, "are
especially interesting to us because they are, so far as is known,
the most highly developed beings in existence."

"In what way are they like us?"

"They are vertebrates, mammals, primates, just as we are."

"And how do they differ from us?"

"They are 'cooperative democrats'; that is, they do not compete with
each other for a living, but work together in all things, in
complete equality. In this way they have become so wonderfully
advanced that--"

The professor interrupted. "We will not go into that." The scene
shifted from people to things: a large, complicated-looking column
of some sort was being shown. "What does this tell us?"

"It tells us," spoke up some one, "that Alma is entirely surrounded
and covered by a great roof, which stands several miles above the
surface." [Footnote: Compare with Venus. It would seem that,
whenever a planet reached a certain age, its people will always take
steps to preserve its atmosphere; that is, provided their
civilization is high enough.]

"What is the purpose of this roof?"

"To keep in the air and moisture, which all other planets are
steadily losing. Alma is a much older planet than ours, which is why
her people are so far advanced."

Next came "close-ups" of some inhabitants. At once the doctor saw
that these were not Venusians; they had facial expressions as sour
and cynical as the typical Venusian's had been pleasant and wise.

"You will note," commented the professor very quietly, "that these
people are far from happy."

The class seemed to take it for granted; but the doctor's trained
ears instantly caught a false note in the speaker's voice. Was the
man sure of his statement?

At the same time the doctor became aware of a certain dullness in
the vision he was borrowing. Also, the speaking became much less
distinct. It occurred to him that the boy might be drowsy; and an
unmistakable nodding shortly made this certain.

"As we see from these photographs," droned the voice on the
platform, "happiness does not exist on Alma. And if not there, where
else can we expect to find it? Certainly not among the less
developed planets.

"So we must conclude that ours is the only world where the people
are truly happy. We must thank the commission for the peculiar
distinction which we enjoy. Ours is the only civilization which
guarantees happiness to all; these pictures prove it for us."

At that instant young Ernol lifted his head with a jerk. "How do we
know," he demanded, "that these photographs were not very cunningly
selected to give us a wrong idea? Perhaps they lie, professor!"

Instantly consternation reigned. The professor fairly froze in his
tracks, while every eye in the room was turned in amazement upon the
lad.

"What!" exclaimed the speaker sternly. "Where did you get such an
extraordinary notion, Mr. Ernol?"

The boy had sat up straight, looking about uncertainly. He got
unsteadily to his feet. "Why--" he stammered helplessly. "Why, I
haven't any idea--What have I been saying, sir?"

The professor checked a hasty answer. He said quietly: "Do you mean
to say you are unaware that you spoke just now?"

"Yes, sir. I mean--" The boy was badly puzzled. "To be frank, sir, I
was almost asleep. I studied about Alma years ago. I know I said
something, but as to what it was--"

"That will do." The professor made a sign, and Ernol sat down,
tremendously embarrassed. "The class will understand that people,
when talking in their sleep, usually say things which are the exact
opposite of what they know to be true."

The man wet his lips, as though with satisfaction at the neatness of
his wording. He added in a generous tone: "I will not reprimand Mr.
Ernol, because his previous work indicates, as he says, that Alma is
an old topic to him. I only wish that he stood as well in certain
other studies!"

A ripple of laughter ran over the class, and again the puzzled youth
was the target for the combined stares of the students. He slipped
down deep into his seat.

"That will do for to-day," said the teacher, glancing at the clock.
"Tomorrow we will begin the study of the other suns of the
universe--what we commonly call stars.

"However, before you go"--his voice took on a certain
ominousness--"let me remind you that it is the custom not to
question the sources of our information. We take them for granted.
In fact, it is more than a custom; the regulations require that any
student who is not satisfied with the sincerity of our public school
system shall be suspended for the first objection, and for the
second shall forfeit all educational rights whatever.

"You will readily see for yourselves, then, that it will not be wise
for any of you to repeat what Mr. Ernol unconsciously let slip. And
of course none of you will be so unkind as to remind him of what he
said."

The students rose thoughtfully to their feet, and Ernol passed out
with the rest. He had no idea what it was all about, nor the
slightest suspicion that his eyes and ears had been used.

But the doctor had learned something of enormous value. He had
learned that, when his agent was in a semiconscious state, his--the
doctor's--conscious mind could influence the agent.

It was not Ernol, but the doctor, who had made the slip!






VI

THE WORLD'S BOSSES





Van Emmon was afterward unable to recall any experience between his
entering the sublimial state and becoming tele-conscious. That is,
his only recollection was of a definite scene, experienced through
the eyes and ears of his agent.

The place was a large high-ceilinged room, its architecture
suggesting some public building. In the center, and directly in
front of Van Emmon's agent, stood a large, rectangular table, about
which sat a number of men. Van Emmon counted nine of them.

The whole atmosphere was solemn and important. Van Emmon was
reminded of old photographs of cabinet meetings in Washington, of
strategy boards during the great war. He listened intently for
something to be said.

Near the foot of the table--Van Emmon's agent sat at the head--a
tall man with an imposing, square-cut beard rose to his feet. He
gazed at each of the other eight in turn, significantly; and when he
spoke the geologist was so impressed with the deadly seriousness of
the scene that he forgot to be amazed at his ability to understand
what was said, forgot to marvel that these men were, undeniably,
human beings of exceptional character.

"Gentlemen," said the man who had risen, "I do not need to remind
you of the seriousness of this occasion. I only wish to congratulate
you, and myself, on the fact that we now have a chairman to whom we
can look with confidence. I say this without meaning any reflection
upon his predecessor."

He sat down, and immediately a white-haired man with a wide,
complacent type of face arose and declared: "No reflection is felt,
sir. On the contrary, I am exceedingly glad that Mr. Powart is to
take my place. I only wish that the commission felt free to discard
its rule of choosing by lots; I should like to present Mr. Powart
with the chair for as long a period as he would care to fill it."

He took his seat amid a general murmur of approval, while nine pair
of eyes were turned in unison upon the pair Van Emmon was sharing.
His agent, then, was chairman of some sort of a council, known as
"the commission."

Powart got to his feet. Even in this simple act his motions were
swift and sure; they harmonized perfectly with the way he talked.

"Thanks, both you. To be frank, I am glad, for the sake of the
association, that the youngest commissioner has come to its head at
this time. If there were a younger than myself, I would say the
same."

He paused and glanced at some memoranda in his hand. Van Emmon was
struck, first, by the smooth skin and perfect formation of the hand
and wrist; and, second, by the peculiar writing on the papers. He
had no idea what it meant, although his agent certainly did.
(Afterward the four concluded that, in the case of words written in
code or otherwise requiring an effort of the agent's conscious mind,
the people on the earth, being in touch only with the subconscious,
were never informed. But they never had any trouble in understanding
anything that was said aloud.)

"If there are any special matters which should be handled in general
session, now is the time to bring them up," said Powart, and
remained standing.

An undersized man with a remarkably large head of hair spoke up from
the righthand side of the table: "I want to suggest that it is high
time we sent another expedition to Alma."

"I agree," from the man who had been Powart's predecessor.
Apparently these ten men had nearly dispensed with parlimentary
rules. "What are the prospects, Powart?"

"First rate. Runled's old space-boat has been renovated recently,
and I understand that enough of the required materials have been
mined to insure one round trip."

"It is very fortunate that we shall be able to visit Alma again,
even though we use up our entire supply in the attempt. It seems
that we shall soon need, and need badly, certain chemical secrets
which they alone possess."

"When can the boat start?"

"Within a week. I shall keep in touch with the crew by wireless, and
advise you of their progress from time to time. Alma is a sort of a
hobby with me; I wouldn't mind taking the trip myself."

There was a long pause. Powart waited, as though in expectation of
further remarks, then gave another glance at his memoranda and
began:

"Of course, we are mainly concerned with the demonstration in
Calastia. As to its cause, I may mention that Eklan Norbith was in a
hospital at the time, having a substitution. Had he been on the
spot, the uprising would have been checked before any one heard of
it.

"But it now seems that Calastia, during the last few hours, has
become a seething hotbed of rebellion. Of course, we have isolated
the district, and a search for arms is now in progress.

"The head of the recalcitrants is a man named Ernol. He takes his
confinement as a matter of course, and no amount of pressure will
induce him to talk. Neither can we get anything from his companions,
nor from his son.

"It is up to us to decide what measures to adopt."

A large, pugnacious-looking man on the left put in the first
comment. "Would it not be a saving of time to provoke violence, in
one way or another, and thus form a pretext for disposing of the
entire lot?"

"I admire your bluntness," remarked the former chairman across the
table, "although I can't say as much for your philosophy. It is our
duty to keep everybody contented; we cannot do any public
weeding-out until the others are satisfied that the malcontents are
really weeds."

"That is clear enough," spoke the shock-headed man. "What are the
conditions, Powart?"

"Nearly normal. The percentage of overhead is only slightly higher
than average. Until Ernol moved into the locality every one seemed
contented with the regular arrangements."

"What is his contention?"

"The usual democratic nonsense. He claims that the commission is
autocratic, down to its last deputy. Denies that we have the right
to apportion one-half the earnings to the workers and the other half
to the owners. States that our system is wasteful, unjust, and
demoralizing."

"And what does he propose?"

"Democratic control of industry. You know--that old line of talk."

"Does he deny that the commission has abolished poverty and war?"

"No; but he points out that our present standard of living has not
changed for generations, and argues that degeneration must result.
Of course, he is right in his fact but wrong in his conclusion."

"Doesn't he admit the necessity of some sort of an international
governing body?"

"Yes; but he claims that the commission should be elected by direct
vote of the people!"

A general smile of derision greeted this. The only face that
remained serious was that of the shock-headed man. He said:

"There must be a slip somewhere, Powart. Isn't there a heavy fine
and imprisonment for teaching such stuff? How did Ernol ever get
hold of the notion?"

"Probably through tradition. We can't keep people from talking to
their own children; perhaps Ernol's great-grandparents told him of
the days when every one was allowed to vote."

The shock-headed man got another idea. "What has the man to say
against our system of voting in proportion to property interests?"

"Says it's all right in principle; but he claims that the earth
belongs to one and all, equally, and therefore each should have an
equal voice in its disposition and government."

This time there was no smiling. The pugnacious-looking man spoke for
the rest when he said:

"We cannot allow such ideas to gain headway, Powart! Have you a
plan?"

"We must keep a close watch upon Calastia, and allow no one to leave
its borders. As for Ernol, I have concluded that the best thing will
be--turn him loose!"

They looked at him in consternation. He explained:

"I have been reading up the experience of the past few centuries in
such cases; and if there is one thing that stands out clearer than
any other it is this: the surest way to make the public sympathize
with a radical is to persecute him. But disregard him and ridicule
him, and his philosophy doesn't last long.

"Instead of trying to make an example of this chap, by severely
punishing him, we shall let him go. It may be that he will object to
this; he may have discovered the same truths I have been reading,
and would like nothing better than to become a 'martyr.' But we
shall force him out, if need be."

"But suppose he continues his talking?"

"In that case we must simply watch our chance, and take him
secretly; if need be, arrest a thousand others at the same time. The
main thing is secrecy; so that the people cannot know, no matter
what they may suspect, what has become of him. His final dispostion
will be a question of mere exediency."

The former chairman approved heartily. "You've got the right idea,
Powart. Is there anything further on tap?"

Powart put his notes away. "Every national report is the same as
usual; all quiet, and people apparently well satisfied.

"If there is no further business, we may consider ourselves
adjourned."

The men got to their feet with the usual accompanying noises. The
tall man with the square-cut beard immediately came and offered
Powart his hand. Van Emmon noticed that they shook hands almost
exactly as Americans would.

"Things seem to be coming your way, my boy," said the bearded man,
his keen eyes softening slightly. "I saw the paper this morning.
Congratulations! She is one girl in millions. Has she fixed the
date?"

"No. Mona was rather taken by surprise--to be frank with you,
uncle."

As Powart spoke, he was eyeing the door and nodding permission for
an attendant to enter. The man stepped obsequiously forward and
presented a message, for all the world like any ordinary aerogram.
Powart opened it while his uncle signed.

The chairman gave a low whistle of surprise. "Mona had an accident
with her flier, a little while ago, and was rescued by "--he looked
closer at the aerogram--"a chap named Fort. She is now recuperating
on board the Cobulus."

The tall man took the message and read it himself, while Powart
glanced about the room. Van Emmon caught a glimpse of a clock, and
he noted the pendulum especially. But before he could learn anything
further, Dr. Kinney's hand jerked as before, and the gong rang. The
four awakened.

They had been "visiting" over an hour.






VII

A WORLD BECALMED





"I think we have learned enough to form some general conclusions,"
said the doctor, after the four had told what each had heard and
seen. "Van Emmon's friend, Powart, seems to be anything but a
democrat. He probably represents the most aristocratic element on
the planet; while this man Fort, who rescued the girl, is also
probably a member of the leisure class.

"On the other hand, we have Smith's agent, whose name we do not
know; he seems to be one of the working class, which Powart
despises. The two are at opposite ends of the social scale. Young
Ernol, whose father is in trouble, appears to be a rising young
revolutionist.

"But Mona--to use the name Powart gave his fiancee--Billie's
surgeon--the girl whose life Fort saved--she is not so easy to
classify. On the earth we would call her occupation a middle-class
one; but that remark she made about people being cattle gives me the
impression that she is an aristocrat at heart. I call her a mystery,
for the time being.

"As for the planet itself--of course, the people simply refer to it
as the earth, or some term which translates that way to us. We need
a name for it. What shall we call her--this daughter of Capella's?"

"Capellette," from Billie promptly.

"Fine!" The other two looked their approval. "Now, we are ready to
analyze things. What shall we say of her people in general?"

"Speaking for my surgeon," observed Billie, "doesn't she argue a
rather high degree of development?"

The others were plainly willing for the doctor to take the lead. He
rubbed his knuckles harder than ever as he considered Billie's
suggestion.

"A higher degree of development? H-m! Not easy to say. Safer to
assume that the development is higher in spots, not in general.
Perhaps we'll do well to consider other things first.

"Take those two clocks, for instance. The one that I saw had a
pendulum of ordinary length, which vibrated twice as fast as
that"--indicating an astronomical clock at his side. "What about the
time-piece you saw, Van?"

"Twenty-five-hour dial, and a pendulum of the usual length, same as
yours. But--it vibrated no faster than any I ever saw before."

"You're sure?" At the emphatic nod the doctor frowned. "We are
forced to conclude that Capellette is not as round as our earth. No
other way to account for such a difference in gravitation as the two
clocks indicate. Roughly, I should say that the planet's diameter,
at the place where I saw the clock, is fifty per cent greater than
at the point where Van's agent is located; maybe ten thousand miles
in its greatest diameter, Capellette.

"Having greater gravitation would explain why that disabled aircraft
which Smith saw fell so very slowly; the planet has much more air
than the earth, which means far greater density near the surface. It
also explains those big sailing cruisers; nothing else can.

"At any rate, we can guess why we have seen no surface travel. The
people of Capellette never tried to work out such a thing as an
automobile; why should they, with the birds to imitate, and extra
dense air all about them?

"I think we have found the key." The doctor cogitated for a second
or two.

"However, let's consider that schoolroom a bit. It was in no way
different from what you will find on the earth right now. Why?"

Smith had a notion. "There is such a thing as perfection. Like some
electrical apparatus; you simply can't improve them."

"Sounds reasonable," from Van Emmon.

"Yes. And that is undoubtedly how the Capellettes look at the
matter.

"Why haven't they got talking-pictures? Because they've perfected
the silent variety, of course. Why don't they reform their ways of
living, instead of replacing a worn-out heart with a new one?
They've perfected surgery, that's why! And why haven't they tried
the screw-propeller? They've perfected the bird-wing principle!"

"But that doesn't explain," objected Billie, "why they've been
content with an autocratic system of government."

Van Emmon considered this a dig at Powart. "Why, of course their
government is autocratic, dear! How else can it be protective?"

"You seem to have a lot of admiration for your Mr. Powart," laying
her hand on his.

"I have. He and the others seem to be highly capable fellows, who
have undertaken to maintain happiness, and have made good."

"But without the direct consent of the people."

"What of that?" warmly. "Most folks don't care to burden their heads
with law-making, anyhow. They'd rather leave it up to specialists."

"Who are only too willing, my dear, to handle the matter--at their
own price!"

The doctor put in hastily: "From what you tell me, Van, this
commission determines the living conditions for the majority,
although it has no popular authority whatever. Moreover, conditions
are no better than they were a hundred years ago. There's been no
progress. Powart admits that.

"Now, placing that fact alongside the rest, I reach this conclusion:
that the people of Capallette, no matter what may have been their
experience in the past, do not now care for revolutionary ideas.
They want standardization, not change.

"It all roots back in that extra dense air of theirs. See why?"

Apparently the three did not. The doctor explained: "Life is much
easier for them than for us. It is no great struggle to gain a
livelihood where transportation is so easy and simple. In
consequence of this their advancement was much more rapid than ours
here on the earth, up to a certain point; and they've reached that
point already.

"Coming back to that commission again: instead of trying out a
democratic form of government, in which every citizen would be
equally responsible regardless of property--they've standardized the
protective, paternalistic principle."

"Which is precisely the correct method!" insisted the geologist.
"Radical changes of any kind are always dangerous. The only safe
method is to improve what we already have."

"Suppose," remarked Billie--"suppose government becomes so
thoroughly standardized that it can't be improved further?"

"Then it becomes permanent."

"If it isn't overthrown."

The doctor smilingly interposed. "Let me finish and get this out of
my system. By their own confession, the commission's chief function
is to keep the majority in ignorance, which is said to be the same
thing as bliss. This man Ernol and his pitiful rebellion only serve
to prove the rule.

"In a word, the Capellans have carried the principle of improvement,
as opposed to reform, to its logical conclusion. They can go no
further."

"And why not?" challenged Van Emmon. "Because the fittest have
survived, on Capellette as elsewhere. These commissioners are the
fittest."

The doctor nodded gravely. "True enough, Van. But the point I want
to make is, the commissioners have put an end to the processes of
evolution. They won't allow progress. They stopped all that a
century ago.

"Friend, Capellette is a world that has given up. It has quit!"






VIII

THE UPPER CRUST





The next time Billie went into the tele-conscious state, forty-eight
hours later, she found that she had "arrived" in the midst of a
conversation. It told her worlds.

"I answered the telephone," some one was saying, "and Mr. Powart
clearly said that he would be here within the hour." [Footnote: The
word hour is used advisedly. Of course, the Capellan hour may have
an entirely different length from ours.]

"I suppose it is just as well," answered the surgeon whom Billie now
knew as Mona. "Yes, I dare say it is quite as well."

"Is there any reason why he shouldn't, dear?" inquired the other
party, a middle-aged woman, magnificently dressed, of decidedly
distinguished appearance.

"No, mother," replied the girl; "not so far as he is concerned.
But--Mr. Fort also is coming to-day."

The older woman saw nothing alarming about this. "I am glad to hear
it. He impressed me as being a very nice boy, although rather
impulsive."

"You don't understand. It's going to be very embarrassing for me.
Mr. Fort warned me last night--laughingly, of course, but I think he
meant it--that he intended to propose to-day."

Swift anxiety came to the mother's face. For a while she kept
silence. And while Mona's conscious mind was occupied with thoughts
which Billie could not fathom, her subconscious mind was faithfully
taking in all that her roving eyes beheld.

The two Capellans were seated upon the terrace of a large, handsome
house, whose architecture Billie tentatively classified as
semi-Moorish. Mona next glanced into the grounds, telling Billie
that the house was set upon a knoll, high up on the ridge of a
tremendous range of mountains. Similar houses dotted what landscape
was visible through a mass of foliage. It was just the sort of
residence colony that Billie herself would have chosen.

Then the eyes came back to the mother, who was saying: "Perhaps, my
dear, you would rather that I told Mr. Fort of your engagement." She
watched the daughter as though expecting her to refuse the offer.

Which is just what the heart-specialist did, with a proud toss of
the head. "Thank you; but I cannot have him think that I lack the
nerve to tell him myself."

She excused herself and went into the house, passing through rooms
so rapidly that Billie learned little, save that the place fairly
swarmed with men in livery. Once in Mona's room, however, Billie
discovered that metallic furniture was the rule; that the windows
were without screens, [Footnote: The Capellans seem to have utterly
stamped out all forms of insect life except those directly
beneficial to man.] and that the bed was set down very close to the
floor. Otherwise, the room was much like any on the earth.

Mona's clothes interested Billie immensely. Without exception the
garments were skirtless, and a large proportion of the suits were in
one piece. Headgear was limited to caps, of which Mona owned an
immense variety; while she wore nothing but high lace-up boots or
pumps. Billie was sure that these were all of leather.

With the aid of no less than four maids, all of whom were very
pretty girls, Mona changed to a garment of some lustrous brown
material, like silk velvet but with a much longer nap, together with
stockings of the golf pattern, and black pumps. Next she proceeded
to inspect herself carefully in a mirror.

Billie saw that Smith's estimate of "not over thirty" was accurate
enough. The girl was still young as to face, although her body was
remarkably robust. And Billie found that her delicacy of feature did
not suffer from the close-up.

Instead, her refinement was made only the more striking. Probably it
was the high arching of her eyebrows that had made her face
patrician; that, together with the sensitiveness of her nostrils.
For there was nothing at all cold about her eyes; they were a very
dark brown, large and full. And her lips were anything but haughty;
they were a deep red and piquantly upturned at the corners. The
whole carriage of her head, however, marked her as an aristocrat,
but a lovable one.

As she turned from the glass the sound of a laugh came from the
front of the house. Billie instantly recognized Fort's voice. Mona
gave her hair a final touch and went straight to the terrace.

"How do you do?" said the surgeon coolly, as she took Fort's eagerly
outstretched hand. And again Billie was more interested in the man's
gray-leather flying suit, so well becoming his fine muscular
development, than in the conventional reply he made. Next moment
Mona's mother was saying:

"I have been trying to thank Mr. Fort for what he did yesterday. It
was a remarkably brave thing!"

"Indeed it was," declared Mona, with feeling. "And yet, try as I
might last night, I was unable to make him see that it was anything
out of the ordinary, mother."

"Why, of course," protested the athlete carelessly. "There was
nothing brave about it. One is not brave unless one is afraid; and I
wasn't afraid. I can take no credit for the thing."

"Do you mean," questioned Mona, "that you are never afraid?"

"Not when I am in the air."

There was silence for a minute, and again Billie used Mona's eyes to
good advantage. Fort was certainly a good-looking chap, although
slightly untidy in small items of his costume. He was the kind which
looks best when somewhat disheveled, anyhow. As to face--a large,
handsomely curved mouth, a slightly Roman nose, eyes as big as
Mona's and as blue as hers were brown. Decidedly, the man was worth
looking at, again and again. Most daredevils are sharp-featured;
Fort was kindly. There was something positively reassuring about his
kind of audacity.

Presently the mother mentioned Ernol, the radical; seemingly these
people had been privately informed of what Powart was keeping from
the workers. Fort commented:

"I was really frightened when I heard of it. Why, if that fellow's
philosophy is listened to, we all may have to work for a living!"
His laughter rang above the rest; then he thought of Mona. "Oh, I
say, I quite forgot, I assure you."

"Don't mention it," returned the surgeon humorously. "I don't mind
telling you that this service of mine is largely camouflage. I
belong to the Delusion Brigade."

Fort was greatly surprised. "You, a volunteer?"

"Quite so. There must always be some one of our class to whom people
can look, whenever they suspect that we are not democratic. Besides,
I have always fancied surgery." She told briefly of her work.

"Why, you are a famous person!" declared the athlete.

"You make me ashamed; I do nothing at all but amuse myself."

"Which is quite as well, Mr. Fort," the mother assured him. "I tried
my best to keep Mona out of this; a social conquest is what I had
planned for her. But she had set her mind on surgery; so--" And she
left the rest to Fort's imagination.

A moment later Billie heard a flying-machine approaching. Shortly it
came near enough for her to see that it was greatly like a yacht,
painted white all over, and possessing exceptionally tall masts. The
canvas was already unfurled and the vessel descending under the
control of some unusually powerful wings.

"Mr. Powart's official boat," Mona explained to Fort.

The craft landed softly on the edge of the lawn, some distance away.
The three on the terrace did not stir from their places as Powart,
accompanied by eight men in uniform, stepped swiftly down a short
ladder and strode rapidly to the house. The eight guards, each of
whom carried a brown leather box, like a motion-picture camera, took
up unobtrusive positions near at hand. These cases, however, were
not used for taking photographs; Billie thought them more like some
kind of condensed rapid-fire guns.

Before Powart got within ear-shot, Mona leaned toward Fort. "This is
my fiance," she said with an evident effort; and when she
straightened up her hands were trembling.

Fort took it astonishingly well. He concealed any hint of his
feelings as the chairman was introduced. Powart gave him a single
penetrating glance, then advanced in his sure, self-confident way,
and took both the girl's hands in his own. She remained in her seat.

"I am very glad to see you looking so well. Do you feel fully
recovered, Mona?"

"Yes, thank you," coolly. "Or perhaps I should say, thanks to Mr.
Fort, here."

Powart turned his keen gray eyes upon the athlete. "If there is any
way I can show you how much I appreciate this--"

Fort waved his hand jauntily. "Wait till I do something that costs
me a real effort!"

Something in his voice caught the chairman's ear. He scrutinized the
athlete more closely; and Billie found herself comparing the two.
They were both big fellows; otherwise there was no resemblance. The
one was as dark as the other was blond; moreover, he was somewhat
heavier than Fort, and of the sort which must be dressed
immaculately at all times. His good looks were due to the clean-cut
lines of his face; for his eyes were stern and his mouth very
strong.

If the one was impulsive, the other was sure. Fort loved to take a
chance; the other, would not act until he was absolutely certain.
Billie decided that he was the steadier, the more reliable of the
two; also, the least likable, for that very reason. Infallibility is
a fearsome thing.

The mother arose with some remark about going into the gardens, and
Fort offered his arm. Powart took their going purely as a matter of
course, and continued to stand--he seldom sat down--directly in
front of Mona.

"I hope," said he in his direct fashion, "that you can see your way
clear to consider wearing this," and he produced a small, blue
velvet case from an inner pocket. And next moment Billie was peeking
over Mona's shoulder, so to speak, to see a ring made of some
milk-white metal, set with a single oval stone of a blood-red hue.
The surgeon gave a tiny gasp at the sight of it.

"Bribery and corruption!" she cried, and started to slip the ring on
to the middle finger of her left hand. Before it was done, however,
she paused.

"I almost forgot." She gave Powart a sidelong glance. "Last night I
thought it over, and--Well, you know how women are about changing
their minds."

"Surely you haven't completely altered your opinion of me?"
incredulously, rather than anxiously.

"No; I just want more time to think it over, that's all. It is not
that I think less of you than before, but somehow, since having such
a close call--I haven't quite as much confidence in my ability to
meet your expectations." This as though she had worded it
beforehand.

Powart showed little concern. "Of course I am sorry; but perhaps it
is just as well. Beyond a doubt you will soon come to see it as
clearly as you did the other day." He paused as the girl slowly
extended the ring to him. "Why not wear it anyhow, Mona?"

"I'd rather not--not until I am sure. It's a dreadful temptation,
though!"

And Powart had no choice other than to reflect her smile with one of
his own, while he quietly slipped the little case back into his
pocket.

Almost with the same motion he took out a watch. "You must excuse
me. Business of state, as usual."

"Certainly," as she rose. She gave a quick glance around, then shook
her head playfully as Powart took a single eager step toward her.
"Next time," she said; and he bit his lip, gripped her hand tightly,
and strode away. In a minute he and his guards were back in the
yacht, and in three minutes out of sight.

By that time Fort and Mona's mother had returned. There was a quick
exchange of glances between the two women, and then the mother
excused herself and went in the house. Fort suddenly became
awkwardly self-conscious.

"Well, I must be going." He paused; a gleam of mischief flashed into
his eyes--a kind of final come-back. "Next time I rescue you, young
lady, I shall let you get hurt ever so much worse, so that I can
have an excuse to call more than I have so far!"

His face sobered swiftly. "I nearly forgot. May I congratulate you
upon your--engagement? Mr. Powart is a very fine man."

"Thank you; so he is. Really, I have lately come to wonder if I am
good enough for him." Then, significantly: "The date has been
postponed indefinitely. It is not impossible that I may give him
up."

Fort stared incredulously for a second, then saw that she meant it.
The blood rushed to his face, leaving him white and shaky with
excitement. He made a sudden move toward the girl, checking himself
just as suddenly.

"Well!" His usually easy speech nearly failed him. But he laughed as
boldly as ever. "I am convinced that you are far from being a well
woman, Miss Mona! I shall have to call--often!"

And with a short but exceedingly intense gaze of infinite meaning,
he wheeled, clapped his cap to his head, dashed to his machine and
was gone.






IX

THE STAGNANT WORLD





Smith entered the mind of his Capellan agent at a moment when he was
clearly off duty. In fact, the engineer of the Cobulus was at the
time enjoying an uncommonly good photoplay.

Smith had arrived too late to see the beginning of the picture; but
he found it to be a more or less conventional society drama. And for
a while he was mainly interested in the remarkably clear
photography, the natural coloring and stereoscopic effect that the
doctor had already noted through young Ernol. Smith nearly
overlooked the really fine music, all coming from a talking machine
of some kind.

And then the picture came to an end, and a farce-comedy began. It
was an extraordinarily ingenious thing, with little or no plot;
afterward Smith could not describe it with any accuracy. However,
Mrs. Kinney, down-stairs, plainly heard him laughing as though his
sides would give way.

The picture over, Smith's man got up and left the place; and once
outside he glanced at his watch and took up a position on the curb,
much as Smith had often done when a younger man. The Capellan seemed
to know a good many of the people who came out of the playhouse; and
meanwhile Smith took note of something of extreme importance.

The playhouse did not have any advertising whatever in sight, except
for a single bulletin-board, like the bill of fare of a cafeteria.
Moreover--and this is the significant thing--there was no
box-office, neither was any one at the door to take tickets.

The place was wide open to the world. It was located on a very busy
street in what appeared to be a good-sized city; but, to all
appearances, any one might enter who chose to.

"Free amusements," thought Smith, "to keep the boobs happy."

Shortly his agent stepped down the street, which seemed to be
greatly like one in any city on the earth, except that there was
remarkably little noise. Perhaps it was due to the total lack of
street-cars and surface machinery in general. Certainly the space
between the sidewalks was used for little else than the parking of
flying-machines. The buildings housed a variety of stores, all built
on a large scale. There were no small shops at all.

Smith's agent quickly reached his own flier, a small two-seater
ornithopter finished in dull gray--Smith's favorite color,
incidentally--and in a minute or two he was well under way. Smith
had a chance to watch, at close range, the distorted S-motion of the
machine's wings. But the flight lasted only a few minutes, and
presently the craft was again at rest.

This time it was parked under a tremendously long shed, which Smith
afterward saw was really a balcony, one of a tier of ten. Opposite
the spot was a large building, like a depot; and over its roof Smith
saw the huge bulk of an airship.

It was, of course, the Cobulus; and it was when Smith's agent passed
through a checking-in room that his name was heard for the first
time. "All right, Reblong," was the way it came, from the official
who punched his time-card. And Reblong, with Smith making eager use
of his eyes, went directly through a hatch in the side of the great
ship, and thence down a corridor to his engine-room.

Smith got little opportunity to study the machinery. Reblong gave
the place a single sweeping glance, then strode to a short,
black-bearded chap who stood near the instrument board.

"Everything as usual, my friend?" He had a pleasant voice, as Smith
learned for the first time.

"Yes--as usual!" The man's voice was bitter. "That's just what's
wrong! There's never any improvement; it's always--as usual! Say,
Reblong; no offense, but I think we are fools to put up with what we
are given!"

Smith's man complacently seated himself in front of the instruments.
"Personally, I think we are mighty lucky, instead of foolish."

"Lucky!" The other man snorted. "I wish Ernol could hear you say
that! He'd have a fit!"

Reblong was not at all disturbed. "By the way, what's become of the
chap? I haven't seen him around for weeks?"

"Don't know, exactly," with some uneasiness. "He went back to
Calastia, and that's the last I heard of him."

"Calastia? I saw an item in the paper last night, to the effect that
Calastia was under quarantine. All news cut off."

The man instantly smelled a mouse. "Quarantine! Why should that
cause the news to be cut off? There's something more than quarantine
the matter, Reblong!" He began to pace the room excitedly. "I say it
again, we're fools to believe everything the commission tells us. I
think they've been hoodwinking us about long enough!"

Reblong suppressed a yawn. "I don't care if they do, old man. I'm
willing to leave it up to them to run the government."

"And that's exactly what's the matter!" cried the other. "You and
every other chap except those Ernol has taught, thinks that the
commission is God-given and can do no wrong!"

"Yes?" politely. "Maybe so; only, you can't blame us for thinking
pretty highly of a government that has done this." Reblong checked
the items off on his fingers, meanwhile eying his companion
steadily: "It has done away with the liquor traffic; it has fully
protected women in industry; it has put an end to child labor; it
has abolished poverty; it has abolished war; and"--with considerable
emphasis for so quiet a man--"it has provided you and me and
everybody else with a mighty fine education, free of charge!"

Reblong's manner, by its very emphasis, had the effect of making the
other man suddenly quite cool. "Correct; I admit them all. And at
the same time I want to show you that the commission has
accomplished all this, not primarily for our benefit, but in the
interests of the owners.

"They gave us prohibition because drinking was bad for business; no
other reason, Reblong! And that's why the women are protected, too;
a protected, contented woman brings in better dividends to the
owners than one who is worked to death.

"Neither did it pay to allow child labor; it resulted in misery and
reduced production, in the long run, and that meant reduced
dividends. Poverty didn't pay, either; poor people do not make
efficient workmen. War was abolished, Reblong, not for any
humanitarian motives, but because peace brought in fatter profits
and less waste.

"And as for our compulsory education"--he snapped his fingers
contemptuously--"just what does it amount to? Simply this: it didn't
pay the owners to allow illiteracy! An educated workman is a better
dividend-producer than an ignorant one. That's all there is to it,
Reblong! Don't fool yourself into thinking that the commission has
done all this for your benefit! Not much!"

"Maybe you're right," conceded Reblong. "As for myself, I don't care
a rap what the commission's reasons were. I'm satisfied!"

The other man looked disgusted. "Satisfied! Just because you're
guaranteed your dollar an hour, and your pension at sixty!
Satisfied, when half the company's profits go to the owners, not one
of whom ever did a bit of work in his life! A bunch of people who do
nothing but blow in the money we earn, and spend more in a day than
we do in a month!"

"They're welcome," commented Reblong with much indifference. "If I
got all that you have told me is coming to me, I'd probably ruin
myself with high living anyhow."

"You don't mean to say that you've swallowed that old piffle!" said
the black-bearded chap incredulously.

"I don't see any piffle about it. As I look at the matter, the
owners are doing us a genuine favor. Not only do they take the
burden of our surplus earnings off our shoulders, but they run our
government for us without charge."

"Well, I'll be utterly damned!" The other fellow looked as though
the words were not half strong enough. "I never thought a full-grown
man could continue to believe the stuff we were taught when we were
kids! Don't you ever think for yourself, Reblong? Why, look here!"

He came closer and spoke with painstaking clearness, as though he
were addressing a child.

"The commission, instead of assuring us that increased wages would
be our ruin, could just as well be educating us to spend wisely!
Just as well, Reblong! And as for child labor--man, children ought
to be kept out of industry until they're twenty, instead of sixteen!
Every last one of us ought to be given a college education, instead
of merely the children of the rich! And all this could be done, too.
There's no earthly reason why we should permit that bunch of
parasites in Hafen to graft off us any longer! Put 'em to work, like
you and me, and make life easier for us all!"

"But," objected Reblong, a little upset, "there's only a few of the
owners. They couldn't help much."

"But their servants could. Do you know that there's ten servants, on
an average, to every family of the rich? Servants who do nothing but
make life still easier for people who already hog it all!"

"Well, suppose they did all go to work; who would run our government
for us, my friend?"

"Who! Why--if we can do the work, I guess we can certainly do the
governing, Reblong."

Reblong turned away, plainly bewildered. "It doesn't look right to
me, old man. I'd rather let things stand as they are, so far as I'm
concerned."

Somewhere a warning instrument was thrumming loudly. The man with
the democratic ideas automatically turned to his locker, and
proceeded to change his outer clothing. Reblong meanwhile took off
his suit and slipped into some full-length overalls. As he buttoned
them up around the neck he stepped in front of a glass.

Smith was nearly floored. The man was almost his exact double; an
ordinary, everyday sort of a chap, with a very commonplace face.
Perhaps, like Smith's, his face concealed a remarkable technical
knowledge; but nobody would have given him a second glance. Was he,
thought Smith, a typical Capellan workman?

The other man was ready to go. He hesitated, studying the floor;
then said, regretfully:

"The worst part of it is, Reblong, everybody I talk to is as bad as
you are. They all admit that things are not what they should be--but
nobody cares!"

He went to the door, and Reblong heard him say, under his breath, as
he turned the knob:

"Great Heavens! What's come over the world anyhow? Has it gone
stagnant?"






X

A RIPPLE IN THE POOL





It seemed as though he were right. The whole great pool of humanity
which comprised Capellette was still, quiescent, stagnant. Was there
nothing to arouse it, no ripple in the pool?

The doctor had this question uppermost in his mind when he located
young Ernol. He found him getting ready to accompany his father, who
seemed about to take advantage of the freedom Powart had
conditionally given him. There was no doubt about it; the radical
was going straight back to his revolutionary teaching.

He was saying, "Of course, my boy, I can't compel you to stay at
home." The doctor delighted in the vigorous, frank manner and
powerful voice of the man; they belonged perfectly with his black
hair and bristling beard, his flashing eyes and aggressive nose.
"I'd rather you stayed out of this; at the same time, I'd be a proud
man if you didn't!"

The student calmly finished his dressing. "What time did you tell
the men to come?" was all he said; and the father chuckled, then
sighed.

The two took flight in a small two-seater. It was night, and the
doctor took note of the planet's system of signal lights. Within
five minutes, however, the flight ended with a landing in some sort
of a deep depression; the doctor called it a ravine.

Climbing from the machine, the two apostles stepped a few paces in
total darkness; then the elder man produced a small electric torch,
which he wig-wagged above his head. There was a series of answering
flashes at a distance; and next moment a door, let into the side of
the ravine, opened right in front of the pair.

They stepped in and closed the door after them, then turned their
light down a long corridor. Reaching the end of this the doctor
noted a loophole in the wall, from which projected something
suspiciously, like the muzzle of a machine gun. He had no difficulty
in imagining the consequences should some one open that hidden door
without first giving the signal.

Much as one might enter a lodge-room, the two radicals showed their
faces at a port-hole in a door, after which they passed guards with
masklike helmets. In a few seconds they found themselves in a
brilliantly lighted hall, very large and commodious except for the
heavy pillars which supported its low ceiling. It was half filled
with men.

The elder Ernol had no use for formality. After brief greetings to
some kind of a committee, he took his place on a platform; while his
son unconsciously gratified the doctor by looking over the crowd.
Presumably they were all workers; and in one way they were all
alike; the habitual contentment in their faces had been momentarily
replaced by excitement. However, they were quiet and well behaved
enough.

"Comrades," began the radical without delay, "I appreciate your
coming here at all, under the circumstances. The commission plainly
warned me that any further teaching would be disastrous. I am not
sure, but I imagine they would arrest both myself and those found
with me. If there is any one who feels that he would rather not take
the risk, now is the time for him to go."

There was a moment's pause; then, in the back of the hall, two men
who had been sitting together got up and hurriedly went out. Ernol
waited, but there was no further exodus.

"I will lose no time then, but proceed to give you the proofs
regarding the commission." He produced a small parcel of
photographs. "These pictures are the most dangerous things I have
ever carried on my person. I took them in the dead of night, by
flashlight, in the library of the University of Calastia.

"They are"--he paused portentously--"reproductions of pages from the
secret census!"

To most of the men this meant something highly significant. They
cranned their necks in their excitement.

"I am going to pass them around, negatives and all. You see where I
have checked off the most important items. They prove to any one
with reason that the commission has been lying to us; that the
workers are being taxed more heavily than the owners; that the
owners are being favored in every way. I don't care whether you
agree with my ideas or not; these photographs"--his voice shook the
hall--"prove that the commission is not even giving you what you
thought you were getting!"

He took a single step down from the platform, his hand outstretched,
about to pass the parcel to the man in the nearest seat. At that
instant all the lights were extinguished.

There was a moment's stunned silence; then the place broke into an
uproar. Yells of fright and anger, the crashing of chairs, screams
of pain; all these young Ernol heard without himself giving voice.
He was sprinting down one side of the hall.

Suddenly there came a flash of light straight ahead. Ernol had
reached the outer corridor. And the doctor heard a great commotion
going on outside the door in the ravine; a smashing and thudding,
which filled the corridor with noise. Next second the door gave way,
and simultaneously young Ernol leaped into the niche behind the
thing which the doctor thought a machine gun. Another second, and he
had the device in operation.

From its muzzle shot a thin stream of fire, which extended the whole
length of the corridor. It lighted up everything with a bluish-white
glare, revealing a mob of men at the door. They fell back, yelling
with pain, some of them dropping in their tracks. And all the while
the apparatus was dealing, not a shower of bullets, but a streak of
liquid fire, which hissed and screamed like the blast from an oxygen
blow-pipe.

But it was all over in a second or two. A noise from behind, and
young Ernol started up suddenly, only to find himself in the grip of
a veritable giant of a man. His struggles were simply useless. In a
moment he was being carried bodily back into the hall, which the
doctor saw was now lighted as before.

On one side, lined up amid a mass of wrecked chairs, stood most of
the workers at bay. On the other were four men with small boxlike
devices, such as Billie had already seen in the hands of Powart's
guards, and which were kept trained threateningly upon the crowd. On
the platform stood Ernol, now quite helpless in the grasp of two
stalwart fellows.

The mob from the door poured in. Immediately they made captors of
all the workers, who had precious little to say. Apparently they had
been warned. The doctor also concluded that the capture was a piece
of treachery, in which bribery had been employed.

Two minutes later young Ernol was placed in a large passenger flier,
which the doctor labeled "Black Maria." Presumably the elder radical
was taken in another; at any rate after another flight in the
darkness, father and son shortly found themselves together again.

They were now in the drawing-room of some private residence,
concluded the doctor. This puzzled him somewhat until, after a brief
wait under the eyes of a half-dozen guards, the two radicals were
taken into another room.

Here, lying on a couch, was a man whom the doctor soon identified.
He was none other than Mona's patient, Eklan Norbith, the
commission's deputy in Calastia. He was a burly, dark-featured
fellow; and even though rigid in his plaster cast, he looked
competent and formidable.

"Ernol," said he in a heavy, domineering voice, "there is no need to
state the case to a man of your intelligence. You gave your word to
stop your teachings; you have been caught in the act. Frankly, I
rather thought you would do it; that is why I am here to-night. I
want--to deal with you personally."

He paused for breath, and then went on, still ignoring the student,
"Ernol, you know what I want. I want those photographs; and what is
more, I am going to have them. You must have passed them to some one
who escaped in the confusion; they have not been located on any one
who has been captured, nor were they hid in the hall. Now I will
give you exactly ten seconds [Footnote: For the sake of clearness,
the Capellan second, whose actual length is of course unknown, is
used here as though it were uniform with earth standards.] to tell
me what you did with them."

He eyed a clock on the wall.

The radical, whose hands were tied behind him, nevertheless managed
to strike a defiant pose. "I don't intend to tell you, Norbith. It
is true that I handed them to one of my comrades; but I shall not
tell you which one."

"Your time is up," said the man with the silver heart evenly. "Will
you tell?"

Ernol contented himself with a contemptuous shake of the head. The
man of the couch, for the first time conceding young Ernol's
presence, now ordered him brought forward.

"I know," he told the father, "that it would be useless to work with
YOU. You are just fool enough to imagine that suffering means
martyrdom.

"But I told you that I must have those photographs. I meant it. I
shall have that information if I have to torture you until I get
it!"

"Go right ahead!" taunted the revolutionist; but his face was white.

Norbith turned to the boy's guards. "Strap him into this chair!"

It was done in half a minute. The doctor had no way of seeing how
the boy took it, except that he studiously avoided his father's
eyes, and that he made no sound.

"Now move him under that clock!"

One of the guards gave a low exclamation, instantly checked at a
cold stare from Norbith. And meanwhile the boy was being placed just
below, and a little to one side of the big clock.

"Remove the lower half of the clock-case!"

It was done in a few seconds. The instrument's pendulum now vibrated
freely in the air, its weight swinging almost to the boy's head
where he sat.

"Move him until I drop my hand," said Norbith.

A slight push, and instantly the doctor became aware that the heavy
pendulum of the clock, on reaching the outward extremity of its
swing, was now gently tapping at the boy's left temple.
TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP it went, with the peculiar quickness due to the
planet's powerful gravity.

"Keep him there until I tell you to move him."

The tapping continued. To the doctor, of course, the thing was
entirely devoid of pain. It made much the same noise the dentist
makes with his mallet, only it went on and on, until perhaps two
minutes had passed.

"Stop!"

Instantly the boy was moved away. The student said nothing; neither
did the father. Yet the doctor noticed something which meant volumes
to his trained senses.

The boy's gaze was no longer clear. Instead, dancing lights appeared
wherever he looked; tiny flashes of violet and orange, which
shimmered before his pupils even though he closed his lids.

"Will you ask your father to tell?" inquired Norbith.

"No--damn you!"

It was the first thing the boy had said. And it came through set
teeth, in a voice which the doctor scarcely knew.

"Move him back; a little further this time."

The tapping began again. This time the boy's head got more of the
force of the swing; the tapping was more like a blow. THUD-THUD-THUD
came the sound now; and in a few seconds the boy could see nothing
for the shivering flames. He gave a faint groan.

"Ready to talk now?"

"Damn you--no!" in a voice that shook with pain.

"Move him closer!"

The thud became a pound. The doctor looked for the skull to give way
at any moment; he tried his best to control the subconscious, but
the boy's agony was too great. The dancing lights had become a
continuous flare; the lad moaned steadily.

And then quite without warning, the boy broke down and gave out a
terrible shriek. Norbith ordered the guards to move him away from
the clock.

"Ready now?" he inquired calmly.

The boy's answer was a snarl. "No!"

"Once more!"

The thud-thudding began again, and now it had a sharp sound which
the doctor instantly recognized. In a moment the boy was shaking the
air with cries of such awful agony that the doctor--

"Stop!" cried the father convulsively, his face streaming with
tears. "God--the boy doesn't--know! Don't torture him--like that!"

The man with the metal heart said:

"Will you tell now?"

"Don't do it father!" the boy whispered through palsied lips. But no
Capellan heard him.

The father was saying to Norbith, "I gave the whole outfit to--"

And then that crashing and smashing came to an end. The boy had
fainted.






XI

THE DOUBLE WORLD





The four felt that they understood the situation quite well, indeed.
It was really simple, this far-off world with its standardized life,
this petrified civilization in which everything was guaranteed
except the one real essential--progress.

But what was Fort going to do about it? Billie was not the only one
who was interested; Van Emmon was equally curious, and Smith
privately believed that the geologist was slightly jealous of the
distant athlete. Certainly he was as eager as any one to continue
the investigation, and stoutly defended Powart against any
criticism.

"He's the right man in the right place!" he insisted. "Lord, I wish
I was in his boots!"

"Well, I'm rather thankful you're not, dear," commented Billie with
a look which quickly brought an answering light to his eyes. Yet,
behind her remark there was a certain wistfulness which the doctor
did not overlook.

Yes, the four felt that they were very well acquainted with
Capellette.

But the most amazing part of the whole proposition was yet to be
discovered. It was not until after nearly two weeks of daily
investigation, in fact, that the whole astonishing truth of the
matter was uncovered.

It came through Billie. Fort was now calling regularly at Mona's
house, evidently trying his best to understand the girl and make
himself understood; for he said not a word about his suit. And one
day he suggested that they make a much longer flight than any they
had so far taken together.

"I haven't been down into the contact for a long while. Have you?"

And the two set out, Billie wondering mightily what "the contact"
might be. They flew for several hours in a direction which would
have been called "westerly" on the earth; and during the time they
were above land, Billie saw no sign of factories, farms, or other
forms of industry. In fact, hill and valley alike were laid out with
handsome residences, beautifully kept grounds, vast parks and
extensive greens, suggesting golf. That was all.

Then she noticed something that made her marvel. The sun, which had
stood directly overhead when they left the house, within less than
three hours began to descend with increasing rapidity; so that in
half the length of an ordinary afternoon it had approached to within
an hour of setting. Its motion was so rapid that it could almost be
seen.

Soon Billie concluded that the two fliers were bound for the bottom
of some unusually wide and exceptionally deep canon. She tried to
remember what she had read of the earth's greatest chasms; was it
possible for the sun to disappear in mid-afternoon in such? And yet
the flight went on and on, until Billie began to wonder if a chasm
could be a hundred miles deep.

Soon she could dimly discern the dark mass of the opposite side. The
fliers were steadily approaching this, and all the time going deeper
and deeper. Once Mona turned her eyes searching to the right and
left; whereupon Billie was still further mystified to see that,
although the cleft was fifty or sixty miles in length, yet its
extreme ends seemed entirely open to the world. Nothing but a deep
"V" of blue sky was to be seen in either direction.

The sun disappeared altogether. Always the two walls grew closer and
closer together, until at last Billie could see, despite the
semidarkness, a heavy growth of vegetation on the opposite wall.
Beneath her, as well, the surface was densely wooded.

Still they descended! It was unbelievable; surely the chasm did not
extend right into the heart of the globe. They had been flying for
hours!

At last came a time when the far wall of the cleft was so near that
Billie could have shot a deer upon it. She estimated the distance at
two hundred yards; and then, and not until then, did she realize
that Mona, in order to inspect this bank, was now LOOKING up. The
wall which had seemed right ahead, all along, was now actually
overhead!

Were they entering some sort of a cave? If so, it had dimensions
that staggered the imagination. What was more, if it were a cave,
how could the mind of man account for vegetation on its roof?

Within a few minutes Fort called from his machine; whereupon Mona
located a landing-place, a small clearing dimly visible in the
distance. The opposite wall of the chasm--or the roof of the cave,
whichever it was--now approached to within five yards of the tops of
the two machines. Mona and the athlete stepped out, and looked
around.

Billie's senses swam. This clearing, as has been said, was only a
few yards away from the tops of the bushes on the roof. Moreover,
all this vegetation, instead of growing at right angles from the
surface in the usual way, was all lying flat against the soil, and
all pointing in one direction--back, the way they had come!

The sky was not overhead any longer; it was a mere strip of very
dark blue, lying far off on the horizon. That is, to the right; on
the left, the cavelike cleft extended still further, its limits
shrouded in darkness.

"Queer, isn't it?" laughed Fort. "Shall we walk around?"

Whereupon the two young people set out on a narrow, but much worn
trail. Keeping the sky always at their right, they passed through
the thicket, Mona's eyes telling Billie that the queer horizontal
vegetation grew always toward the light.

It was much like the growth at the bottom of any gulch; only the two
were walking in the normal way, upright, at right angles to the
surface, quite as though it were level ground!

Overhead the thicket grew in the same fashion; Billie thought the
foliage much like ferns. Here and there, however, was a small
flowering shrub; and it was to one of these that a tiny,
orange-colored bird came flying.

And Billie wondered why Mona did not gasp in astonishment. For the
bird, when it alighted upon the shrub, was not over eight feet above
Mona's eyes; and unless there was something decidedly wrong with the
girl's vision, the bird had alighted upside down!

There it clung, chirping flatly, moving its head from side to side
and watching the two with bright, unfrightened eyes. But Mona was
not much interested; she and Fort moved on. And shortly Billie was
gazing at a fresh wonder.

Directly opposite them, on what Billie was now calling the roof,
instead of the wall, there appeared a deep furrow in the ferns. She
saw that it was a path, much like the one Mona was treading; it
meandered in and out of sight from time to time. What was the
meaning of it? Billie began to wonder if "the contact" was the name
of some mechanical illusion, like a distorted mirror.

The two had been walking for nearly an hour when, right ahead of
them, the thicket opened up, and another clearing presented itself.
That is, Billie called it another clearing, until she looked more
closely and made out two flying-machines in it. They were the ones
the pair had come in!

Now Billie was positive that they had not turned around in their
walk; they had kept the sky on their right all the while. In fact,
the sky was still on that side. They were approaching the clearing
from the side opposite the one they had gone out from!

Yet, neither the athlete nor the surgeon seemed to see anything
peculiar in the fact. Instead, they looked at one another as much as
to say, "Well, time to go, isn't it?"

Then Fort stared up at the mysterious roof. There was another
clearing there, a little to one side; which accounted for Billie's
overlooking it at first. Fort led the way over opposite.

"Shall we try it?" he dared Mona.

"You first," she replied, indifferently.

Whereupon the athlete, without another word, pulled his cap down
tight, made sure his pockets were buttoned, cleared the shrubbery
away from his feet and--leaped! Leaped straight into the air, and as
he went up, he flipped his body as only an acrobat can, so that he
turned a mid air somersault.

But he did not come back to where he jumped from. Instead, his jump
took him five yards, which separated the ground from the roof; and
when he landed HIS FEET WERE RESTING ON THE ROOF, AND HIS HEAD WAS
POINTING DOWNWARD, TOWARD MONA.

"It's easy," he remarked, craning his neck so that he could look at
the girl. "Come on; I'll catch you!"

And then Billie's senses whirled as the surgeon duplicated the feat.
Next second Mona was standing beside Fort, five yards above the spot
she had just left; and in that second everything had become
precisely reversed; the two were now looking up! Looking up, to
behold their machines, apparently upside down, just over their
heads!

As though this were not enough, Mona picked a leaf from a shrub and
threw it some seven or eight feet up. It remained motionless in mid
air!

It was too much for Billie. She felt that she could not contemplate
the thing any longer with safety to her sanity. She exerted her
will, and broke the connection with Mona; so that a few minutes
later her three friends on the earth were listening to her account.

The doctor waited until she was all through; then, "While you were
having that experience I was in touch with young Ernol again. The
boy has recovered and is still in jail, but they let him have his
books now. And I've been helping him study geography."

"Well?" eagerly.

"Very simple. Capellete is a double world!"

"Double!"

"Yes! There are two globes, instead of one. They're twins, and
Siamese twins at that!" He drew a figure on his knee, thus:

[Illustration: two circles touching each other]

"Just imagine the earth and Venus of the same size, and so near to
one another that their combined gravity has brought them together!
That's Capellette! And the contact is the place where they touch!"

They considered this in wondering silence for a while. Then the
doctor continued:

"It's just as we had deduced; each of the planets is larger than the
earth. I saw the figures in that geography.

"But astronomically they are one. They revolve around Capella
together; the rotate about a common center daily, just as the earth
rotates on its axis. This common center is, of course, in the
contact."

"Are both globes inhabited?" Billie was greatly interested.

"Yes. All parts of both planets are developed to the same extent,
and evenly settled. They are just one great nation, with a common
language. This, of course, is traceable to the great density of the
air, enabling the people to fly wherever they wanted to go. There
never has been such a thing as an 'Old World' and a 'New World' with
them.

"The really remarkable fact, however, Billie has already hinted at.
The country near Mona's home shows no sign of industry; there's
nothing but parks and magnificent estates. And the geography
explains it all. One of the planets is devoted entirely to industry
and the homes of those who are engaged therein; the workers inhabit
that globe exclusively. There are about ten billion of them.

"The other globe is exclusively a residence tract, set aside for the
homes of the rich; what they call the owners. There is no industry
of any kind. No workers live there, excepting the army of servants
and park attendants which the owners need for their own comfort. The
population is about a hundred million, of which only one in ten is a
capitalist. The rest are serving people."

Van Emmon seemed to feel that it was his place to comment. "In other
words, Newport on a grand scale!"

"Is that the way Powart seems to regard it?" from Billie.

"Apparently. There were a lot of things in his talk which I couldn't
understand until now; but it's clear enough--the doctor's right."

"Then," pursed the girl deliberately, "the Capellans have divided
the world between them, so that the working classes inhabit
one-half, and the capitalists the other?"

The doctor explained that the dividing was all done by the owners.
"Every bit of the land on the residence planet is privately owned,
with the exception of certain small amusement tracts. Theoretically,
the planet is open to one and all; practically no worker is welcome
there for more than a few hours, and then only in one of those
parks. There is no hotel."

Van Emmon was straining his memory. "Let's see--I heard Powart name
the place. He called it--called it--Hafen!"

"Yes. And the other--the world which is the home of the working
people, but which they do not own; the world whose factories and
farms provide a standard living for the workers and lives of luxury
for the owners--this world is known as Holl. But if I read young
Ernol's mind aright, these words mean nothing more or less
than--Heaven and hell!"






XII

CAUSE AND EFFECT





From that time on the four did not hold any more formal discussions
of what they learned. This was due to a most extraordinary
discovery.

They found that they could keep in touch with each other while they
were "visiting"! It was a tremendous help; it enabled them to
communicate and compare notes as they went along. The doctor
declared that the Venusians themselves had not been able to do more.

Thus, when Powart called on Mona a few days after she had declined
his ring, Billie was able to tell the other three all that took
place, as fast as it happened. As usual, Powart's stay was a brief
one.

"I hope you have recovered your former self-confidence," said he,
consciously repressing the masterful note in his voice. "Not that I
am unwilling to wait, Mona."

"You are very patient," she assured him. "I am glad to say that I am
no longer troubled with any doubts of myself. Something else worries
me now."

He frowned at the implication. "What is it?" coldly.

"Frankly, it is your record." She knew she was jarring him terribly,
but she went on with evident relish, "You are the most important man
in the world. Odd, isn't it, that I should find fault with that? But
it is a serious objection. You are still a very young man; you have
become one of the commission; for a year, you are its head. The
point is, what's before you?" She paused to let this take effect.
"You've already accomplished all that any man can possible
accomplish in the political field. You haven't any future!"

Powart grasped the thought with his usual instant decision. "I
understand. You are right, too. I had not thought of it before." A
slight pause. "You fear that you may come to tire of me; is that
it?"

She nodded emphatically. "If you had asked me a few years ago,
before you had reached the top--it would have been different."

He remained standing, frowning hard. Presently he glanced at his
watch, and said he would have to be going.

"I will see what can be done about it," he stated. "I have a plan
which should get results."

"Are you going to take up a hobby?" eagerly.

"Not a new one; but a hobby I have always had." And with this
enigmatic reply he was off.

Van Emmon kept track of his further movements, and reported
everything to the other three. Powart had not been in flight long
before he sent off a wireless despatch, to which he received a most
extraordinary reply. It was from the expedition which he had sent to
Alma a week before:

People of Alma give us warm welcome. Invite us to stay. We propose
to do so. The planet infinitely preferable to either Hafen or Holl.
Accept our resignations or not, as you please, and be damned to you!

Powart made no comment upon this, which he read in privacy after
carefully decoding it. Van Emmon had no idea what he was thinking,
of course, but wondered mightily how the chairman was going to deal
with the situation. He could scarcely read that aerogram to the
commission. For some time he paced the cabin of his yacht, and at
the end he behaved like a man whose mind had been pretty strongly
made up.

The commission met, it seems, in a central part of Hafen. Powart
reached the place some hours after leaving Mona. He arrived to find
the other nine members waiting for him; and without the least delay
he took his place at the head of the table.

"We will postpone the usual routine until the next session if you
like," said he. There was no objection; whereupon Powart produced a
message from his pocket.

"You will recall the expedition to Alma. I have just received their
first report since reaching the planet." And then, to the vast
amazement of the people on the earth, he read--not what Van Emmon
had seen him receive, but this, in his strong, matter-of-fact voice:

"People of Alma facing starvation, due to overpopulation and
land-exhaustion. Have disabled our boat and will not permit us to
return, although allowing us to use wireless, which they do not
understand.

"They are constructing a fleet of huge space-boats, all heavily
armed, intending to cross over to Hafen and Holl, and conquer the
Capellans."

Powart glanced keenly around the table. "This is all that has been
received. Evidently our men were prevented from sending any more. I
expect nothing further. It remains for us to decide, at once, what
we should do."

The silence of the next few minutes was largely due to
consternation. To most of the commissioners the problem was
staggering. They looked up in eager relief as the shock-headed man
broke the silence.

"It seems to me that war is not inevitable. Apparently the thing
that Alma needs is food. We still have a good deal of underdeveloped
land on Holl; why not make a bargain with them?"

"You mean present them with enough land to raise the food they
need?" from the former chairman.

"Yes, in exchange for whatever manufactured goods they can supply,
and which we need. I see no reason for an invasion."

Powart coughed slightly. "I do. We must not think that Alma is the
same sort of a world as ours. It is a much older planet, and
somewhat smaller. Yet it is more than eight times as densely
populated as Holl. What land we could spare would be only a fraction
of what they need. They intend not merely to invade and conquer us,
but to destroy us just as we destroyed the Ammians!" [Footnote:
Doubtless referring to some aboriginal tribe or race, such as the
Indians of America.]

The nine sat for an instant in stunned silence at this amazing
fabrication. Then the big man with the aggressive face leaped to his
feet, brought his fist down upon the table with a thump, and
shouted:

"Well, then, if it's war, it's war!"

"Aye!" cried Powart's uncle; and in a flash the whole council was on
its feet. "War be it!" they shouted.

In another moment the excitement had abated as suddenly as it had
arisen. They got back into their seats, looking slightly abashed.
Powart still remained standing.

"Then the only question is, shall we make preparations at once, or
wait until we have thought the matter over further?" His tone was
one of scientific indifference; and the discussion of the next few
minutes was all in favor of his scheme. It ended in a motion to
resolve the commission into a ways and means committee for the
purpose of common defense.

"Second the motion!" cried the aggressive man; and the response was
unanimous. Powart directed that a memorandum be made of the vote;
then pressed one of a row of pushbuttons at his hand. An attendant
immediately entered.

"Bring File 6, Folio 1,164, Sheet 10," ordered Powart with his usual
decisive exactness. The attendant disappeared, and in less than a
minute returned with a large sheet of parchment. Powart immediately
located the passage he desired.

"The action you have just taken," he stated, "amounts to a
declaration that a state of war exists. Under such circumstances,
the law explicitly states the function of the chair. Read!" and he
handed the parchment to the nearest commissioner. Within ten minutes
the law had been read by every man present. Powart instantly
continued with his statement:

"This commission is hereby automatically converted into a general
staff, with myself, the chairman, as supreme commander. Your
functions, while this state of war endures, will consist partly in
proposing what steps I shall take, partly, in advising me regarding
my decisions, and partly in carrying out whatever orders I may
give."

He pressed another button, and when the attendant responded, Powart
made a signal with his hand. The attendant turned on his heel,
saluting, faced the door he had left open behind him, and ordered:

"In single file--march!"

A company of guards trooped straight into the hall, and formed a
hollow square about the table. The nine men stared at Powart in
astonishment and perplexity. He did not keep them waiting.

"Pursuant to the authority vested in me by these acts, I hereby
declare that a state of war exists between us and the people of
Alma. I also declare the International Commission dissolved as such;
the same is now my general staff, and will remain where it now
is--indefinitely!"

The nine looked at each other blankly. Were they under arrest?

"And further, I hereby declare that martial law now exists
throughout all the domain formerly under the rule of the commission!
Until peace is declared, my word"--he paused ominously--"is the sole
and only lawl"






XIII

THE REBEL





Meanwhile Billie was still "haunting" Mona, and shortly was able to
tell the other three that Fort had called, taking the surgeon out in
a machine large enough to hold them both. They proceeded to a
near-by park, where a game of aerial punt-ball was already in
progress. [Footnote: The game is described more or less completely
in various sporting publications.]

Billie took great interest in the darting play of the little flylike
machines, the action of the mechanical catapults, and the ease with
which the twelve-inch ball was usually caught in the baskets on the
machines' prows. She reported the score from time to time in a
manner which would have made a telegrapher jealous.

Returning from the game, Mona and Fort became pretty confidential,
the natural result of a common enthusiasm; for their side won. But
Fort was content for a while to merely watch Mona, who was driving.

Finally the conversation made an opening for him to say, "I asked
your mother, Mona, what she thought of me as a prospective
son-in-law."

The girl was in no way rattled. "I suppose she told you that it
wouldn't make any difference what she might say; I'd do as I pleased
anyhow. Didn't she?"

Fort nodded, slightly taken back. Then his boldness returned. "Well,
I had to bring up the subject somehow. And now that I've done it--do
you love me well enough to marry me, Mona?"

She pretended to be very busy with the driving; so that Billie never
knew whether Fort looked anxious or not. Presently Mona said:

"I think--I rather think I like you too well to marry you. What I
mean is, I'm afraid it would spoil you, my dear boy. You're too well
satisfied with yourself. I don't want to marry a man who is content
to fly around half the time and admire me the other half; although,"
she added, "I like to be admired as well as any one."

Fort looked as though he would, with an ounce more provocation, take
her in his arms and say something to get quick results. But he
didn't. "I see," pretty soberly, for him. "You want me to get in and
do something important. Like Powart?" suddenly.

But Mona would not answer him directly. "It's only fair to say that
I've given him an ultimatum, too." She hinted at what she had told
the chairman. "I said nothing about--you."

Fort took a deep breath. Mona gave him a glance or two, and Billie
could see a startling change come over him. It was amazing; Fort,
for the first time in his life had made a serious resolve!

"This makes everything very different!" he declare