Through Space to Mars Part 38

"They seem to have a new leader," remarked Jack. "I understood that the ruler, Silex Corundum, always went at the head of the troops when there was to be a battle, but there's a different person now."

A little in the rear of the crazy machinist was a Martian enveloped in a scarlet cloak, which hung from his shoulders to the ground. And fastened on his head to the golden circlet, which seemed to be a common badge of office for all leading Martians, was a small metal box.

"I believe that box has Cardite in it," said Jack. "Maybe he's the keeper of all the Cardite on this planet, and he and his soldiers have come to get it back."

"They don't look like soldiers," commented Mark.

"No; but they all have some sort of weapons," said Jack. "They look like sticks with small boxes of Cardite on the end of them.

They must be a new kind of gun."

"And probably very effective, too," commented the professor.

"But they are evidently going to hold a parley with us. The machinist and the Martian in the scarlet cloak are advancing alone."

The main body of Martians had come to a halt a short distance away from the projectile, while the two strange figures, so greatly contrasted--that of the insane man and the little officer-advanced together.

"Open the window to hear what they say," suggested Mr. Henderson, and the German scientist did so.

"h.e.l.lo, you in there!" called the machinist.

"Well, what do you want?" asked Mr. Henderson.

"We want you to come out and be killed. I'm going to pay you back for all the trouble you caused me. I couldn't wreck your airs.h.i.+p that you stole from me, but I'll have my revenge now.

These little fellows will do whatever I say, and I want you to come out and be killed."

"Suppose we refuse?"

"Then we'll make you! Oh, they've got the power to, all right.

I'm going to be their king next week, and they'll do anything I say. Come on out!"

"I'm afraid we shall have to decline," answered the professor.

The machinist began a rambling talk, and the scarlet-cloaked figure stepped forward. He spoke slowly, using simple words in the Martian tongue, such as he knew the travelers could understand.

"My name is Zun Flor," he began. "I am the keeper of the Cardite, and I am told by one of my a.s.sistants that you have taken some."

"Well?" asked Mr. Roumann.

"You must return it at once. It is against our laws for strangers to have any of the Cardite."

"But we came here to get it. We only took a little, and you have so much."

"That makes no difference. You must return it at once, and then you must go away. We do not want you here."

"Suppose we refuse?"

"Then you will peris.h.!.+ Be warned in time. Give up the Cardite, and take your departure."

"What will happen if we do not?"

"You and your machine shall vanish from this planet and never more be seen. We cannot have any of our precious Cardite taken away to another world."

"We have only taken a little," repeated Mr. Roumann. "We desire it for scientific purposes, and as you are so fond of science, you ought to let us keep it."

"Give it back!" exclaimed Zun Flor, and he seemed to be very angry. His big, bulging eyes flashed. "Return it to me, and all will be forgiven."

"We will not!" declared Mr. Roumann firmly.

"Then we shall attack you!"

"And we shall defend ourselves. Now, let me warn you. We have powerful forces within this projectile. We will use them against you and your men."

"You cannot harm us," insisted the Martian in the red cloak.

"Your machines of war will be powerless against those we have.

Be warned in time. You must choose between the Cardite and death!"

"We will keep the Cardite, and we will also keep our lives!"

retorted the German.

He slammed the gla.s.s window shut with a bang, and locked it.

Then he closed an inner shutter of steel over it.

"We, can't see what's going on, and what they do," objected Jack.

"Yes, we can," said Mr. Roumann.

He pressed a lever, and a shutter made of strong steel slats, that was on the plate-gla.s.s window of the projectile, opened.

This gave a view all about the Annihilator.

This done, the ports covering the muzzles of the electric cannons were let down, and four guns, two on either side, were aimed at the throng of Martians.

"They are going to fire, or something!" exclaimed Jack, as he looked outside. "They are pointing those sticks at us!"

Instantly every one in the projectile felt as if a thousand pins and needles were sticking into him.

"They're discharging an electric current, or something like it, at us!" cried Professor Henderson.

A moment later every one felt himself drawn against one side or the other of the projectile, just as a magnet draws steel filings to itself through a piece of cardboard.

"They're trying to pull us through the steel sides!" cried Mark.

"I can't move."

Neither could any one else. They were stuck there like flies on the wall.

"Maybe they are going to keep us here forever!" cried old Andy, while Was.h.i.+ngton was too frightened to use any big words.

Mr. Roumann was near some levers. He managed to pull one, and instantly those in the projectile felt themselves free.

"How did you do that?" asked Mr. Henderson.