 Chapter 1 It's too bad that Miles Cabot can't see this, I exclaimed, as my eye fell on the following item. Signals from Mars fail to reach Harvard. Cambridge, Massachusetts, Wednesday. The Harvard College radio station has for several weeks been in receipt of fragmentary signals of extraordinarily long wavelength. Professor Hammond announced yesterday. So far as it has been possible to test the direction of the source of these waves, it appears that the direction has a 24-hour cycle, thus indicating that the origin of these waves is some point outside the Earth. The university authorities will express no opinion as to whether or not these messages come from Mars. Miles alone of all the radio engineers of my acquaintance was competent to surmount these difficulties and thus enable the Cambridge Savants to receive with clearness the message from another planet. Twelve months ago he would have been available, for he was then quietly visiting at my farm, after five Earth years spent on the planet Venus, where by the aid of radio he had led the cupians to victory over their oppressors, a human-brained race of gigantic black ants. He had driven the last ant from the face of continental poros and had won and wed the Princess Lilla, who had borne him a son to occupy the throne of Cupia. While at my farm Cabot had rigged up a huge radio set and a matter transmitting apparatus, with which he had presumably shot himself back to poros on the night of the big October storm, which had wrecked his installation. I showed the newspaper item to Mrs. Farley and lamented on Cabot's absence. The response opened up an entirely new line of thought. Said she, doesn't the very fact that Mr. Cabot isn't here suggest to you that this may be a message not from Mars, but from him, or perhaps from the Princess Lilla inquiring about him in case he has failed in his attempted return? That had never occurred to me. How stupid! What had I better do about it, if anything, I asked? Drop, Professor Hammond, a line? But Mrs. Farley was afraid that I would be taken for a crank. That evening, when I was over in town, the clerk in the drugstore waylaid me to say that there had been a long-distance phone call from me in what I please call a certain Cambridge number. So after waiting an interminable time in the stuffy booth with my hands full of dimes, nickels, and quarters, I finally got my party. Mr. Farley? Speaking. This is Professor Kellogg. O. D. Kellogg, the voice replied. It was my friend of the Harvard Math Faculty, the man who had analyzed measurements of the streamlined projectile in which Miles Cabot had shot to earth the account of the first part of his adventures on Venus. Some further adventures Miles had told me in person during his stay on my farm. Professor Hammond thinks he is getting Mars on the air, the voice continued. Yes, I replied, I judge as much from what I read in this morning's paper, but what do you think? Kellogg's reply gave my sluggish mind the second jolt which it had received that day. Well, he said, in view of the fact that I am one of the few people among your readers who take your radio stories seriously, I think that Hammond is getting Venus. Can you run up here and help me try and convince him? So it was that I took the early boat next morning for Boston and had lunch with the two professors. As a result of her conference a small committee of engineers returned with me to Edkertown that evening for the purpose of trying to repair the wrecked radio set which Miles Cabot had left on my farm. They utterly failed to comprehend the matter transmitting apparatus, and so after the fallen tower had been re-erected and the rubbish cleared away, they had devoted their attention to the restoration of the conversational part of the set. To make a long story short, we finally restored it, and with the aid of some old blueprints of Cabots which Mrs. Farley, like Swiss family Robertson's wife, produced from somewhere, I was the first to try the earphones and was rewarded by a faint like the song of a Northwoods Blackfly. In conventional radioese I repeated the sounds to the Harvard group. A look of incredulity spread over their faces. Again came the same message, and again I repeated it. You're spoofing us, one of them shouted. Give me the earphones. And he snatched them up from my head, adjusting them on his own head. He spelled out to us C-Q-C-Q-C-Q-D-E-C-A-B-O-T-C-A-B-O-T-C-A-B-O-T. Seizing the big leaf switch, he threw it over. The motor generator began to hum. Grasping the key, the Harvard engineer ticked off into space. Cabot, Cabot, Cabot, D-E. As this stationer called letter, he hurriedly asked me. Yes, I answered quickly. One X-X-B. One X-X-B, he continued the ticking K. Interplanetary communication was an established fact at last, and not with Mars, after all these years of scientific speculations. But what meant more to me was that I was again in touch with my classmate, Miles Stangish Cabot, the radio man. The next day a party of prominent scientists, accompanied by a telegrapher and two stenographers, arrived at my farm. During the weeks that followed, there was recorded Miles' own account of the amazing adventures on the planet Venus, or Poros as its own inhabitants call it, which befell him upon his return there after his brief visit to the earth. I've edited these notes into the following coherent story. End of Chapter 1 Chapter 2 of The Radio Planet This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Lynette Calkins, Monument, Colorado The Radio Planet by Ralph Milne Farley Chapter 2 Too Much Static Miles Cabot had returned to the earth to study the latest developments of modern terrestrial science for the benefit of the Cupian nation. He was the regent of Cupia during the minority of his baby son, King Q. XIII. The loyal prince Tauron occupied the throne in his absence. The last of the Antmen and their ally, the renegade Cupian prince Yuri, had presumably perished in an attempt to escape by flying through the steam clouds which completely hem in continental Poros. What lay beyond the boiling seas no man knew. During his stay on my farm Cabot had built the matter transmitting apparatus, with which he had shot himself off into space on that October night on which he had received the message from the skies, S. O. S. Lilla. A thunderstorm had been brewing all that evening, and just as Miles had placed himself between the coordinate axes of his machine and had gathered up the strings which ran from his control levers to within the apparatus, there had come a blinding flash. Lightning had struck his aerial. How long his unconsciousness lasted he knew not. He was some time in regaining his senses, but when he had finally and fully recovered he found himself lying on a sandy beach beside a calm and placid lake beneath a silver sky. He fell to wondering vaguely and pleasantly where he was and how he had got here. Suddenly, however, his ears were jarred by a familiar sound. At once his senses cleared and he listened intently to the distant purring of a motor. Yes, there could be no mistake an airplane was approaching. Now he could see it, a speck in the sky far down the beach. Nearer and nearer it came. Miles sprang to his feet. To his intense surprise he found that the effort threw him quite a distance into the air. Instantly the idea flashed through his mind. I must be on Mars or some other strange planet. This idea was vaguely reminiscent of something. But while he was trying to catch this vaguely elusive train of thought his attention was diverted by the fact that, for some unaccountable reason, his belt buckle and most of the buttons which had held his clothes together were missing, so that his clothing came to pieces as he rose and that he had to shed it rapidly in order to avoid impeding his movements. He wondered at the cause of this. But his speculations were cut short by the alighting of the plane a hundred yards down the beach. What was his horror when out of it clambered not men, but ants. Ants six-footed and six feet high. Huge ants, four of them running toward him over the glistening sands. Gone was all his linger as he seized a piece of driftwood and prepared to defend himself. As he stood thus expectant Miles realized that his present position and condition, the surrounding scenery and the advance of the antmen were exactly item for item like the opening events of his first arrival on the planet Poros. He even recognized one of the antmen as old Dogo who had befriended him on his previous visit. Could it be that all his adventures in Cupia had been not but a dream? A recurring dream, in fact? Were his dear wife Lilla and his little son Q merely figments of his imagination? Horrible thought! And then events began to differ from those of the past for the three other Formians halted and Dogo advanced alone. By the agitation of the beast's antennae the earth man could see that it was talking to him. But Miles no longer possessed the wonderful electrical headset which he had contrived and built during his previous visit to that planet so as to talk with Cupians and Formians both of which races are earless and converse by means of radiations from their antennae. So he picked up two sticks from the beach and held them projecting from his forehead, then threw them to the ground with a grimace of disgust and pointed to his ears. Dogo understood and scratched with his paw and Cupian shorthand on the silver sands the message, Miles Cabot you are our prisoner. What again? Scratched Miles, then made a sign of submission. He dreaded the paralyzing bite which Formians usually administer to their victims and which he had twice experienced in the past, but fortunately it was not now forthcoming. The other three ants kept away from him as Dogo led him to the beached airplane and soon they were scutting along beneath silver skies northward as it later turned out. Far below them were silver green fields and tangled tropical woods interspersed with rivulets and little ponds. This was Cupia, his Cupia. He was home once more, back again upon the planet which held all that was dear to him in two worlds. His heart glowed with the warmth of homecoming. What mattered it that he was now a prisoner in the hands, or rather claws, of his old enemies, the Formians. He had been their prisoner before and had escaped. Once more he could escape and rescue the Princess Lilla. Poor girl, how eager he was to reach her side and save her from that peril whatever it was which had caused her to flash that SOS a hundred million miles across the solar system from Poros to the earth. He wondered what could have happened in Cupia since his departure only a few sancts ago. How was it that the Antmen had survived their airplane journey across the boiling seas? What had led them to return? Or perhaps these ants were a group who had hidden somewhere and thus had escaped the general extermination of their race. In either event how had they been able to reconquer Cupia? And where was their former leader, Yuri, the renegade Cupian Prince? These and a hundred other similar questions flooded in upon the earth man as the Formian airship carried him, a captive through the skies. He gazed again at the scene below and now noted one difference from the accustomed Peruvian landscape, for nowhere rammed the smooth concrete roads which bear the swift two-wheeled curcools of the Cupians to all parts of their continent. What uninhabited portion of Cupia could this be over which they were now passing? Turning to Dogo, Miles extended his left palm and made a motion as though riding on it with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand, but the Antman waved a negative with one of his forepaws. It was evident that there were no riding materials aboard the ship. Miles would have to wait until they reached their landing place, for doubtless they would soon hover down in some city or town, though just which one he could not guess as the country below was wholly unfamiliar. Finally a small settlement loomed ahead. It was of the familiar style of toy building block architecture affected by the Antman and from its appearance was very new. On its outskirts further building operations were actively in progress. Apparently a few survivors of the accursed race of Formians were consolidating their position and attempting to build up a new empire in some out-of-the-way portion of the continent. As the earth man was turning these thoughts over in his mind, the plane softly settled down upon one of the flat roofs and its occupants disembarked. Three of the ants advanced menacingly toward Miles, but Dogo held them off. Then all of the party descended down one of the ramps to the lower levels of the building. Narrow, slit-like window openings gave on to courtyards where fountains played and masses of blue and yellow flowers bloomed amid gray-branched lichens with red and purple twig knobs. It was in just such a garden, through just such a window, that he had first looked upon the lovely blue-eyed golden-haired lila crown princess of Cupia. The earth man sighed, where was his beloved wife now? That she needed his help was certain. He must therefore get busy, so once again he made motions of writing on the palm of his left hand with the thumb and forefinger of his right, and this time the sign language produced results, for Dogo halted the procession and led Cabot into a room. It was a plain, bare room, devoid of any furniture except a small table, for ant-men have no use for chairs and couches. The sky outside was already beginning to pinken with the unseen sun. With a sweep of his paw, Dogo indicated that this was to be Cabot's quarters. Then, with another wave, he pointed to the table, where lay a pad of paper and stylus, not a pencil-like stylus as employed by the Cupians, but rather one equipped with straps for attaching it to the claw of a formian. Even so, it was better than nothing. The earth man seized it eagerly, but before he could begin writing an ant entered bearing a Cupian toga, short-sleeved and bordered with Grecian wave designs in blue. Miles put on this garment, and then quickly filled a sheet with questions. How was my princess and my son the baby king? Whence came all Euformians, whose race I thought had been exterminated? What part of Cupia is this? What is this city? Where is Prince Yuri? And what do you intend to do with me this time? Then he passed the paper and stylus over to his old friend Dogo. They were alone together at last. The ant-man's reply consumed sheet after sheet of paper, but owning to the rapidity of Perovian shorthand did not take so very much more time than speaking would have required. As he completed each sheet, he passed it over to Miles, who read as follows. As to your princess and your son, I know not, for this is not Cupia. Do you remember how, when your victorious army and air navy swept to the southern extremity of what had been Formia, a few of our survivors rose in plains from the ruins of our last stronghold, and braved the dangers of the steam-clouds which overhang the boiling seas? Our leader was Prince Yuri, erstwhile contender for the throne of Cupia, splendid even in defeat. It was his brain that conceived our daring plan of escape. If there were other lands beyond the boiling seas, the lands which tradition taught were the origin of the Cupian race, then there we might prosper and raise up a new empire. At the worst we should merely meet death in another form, rather than at your hands. So we essayed. Your planes followed us, but turned back as we neared the area of terrific heat. Soon the vapor closed over us, blotting our enemies and our native land from view. For page after page, Dogo the Ant-Man related the harrowing details of that perilous flight across the boiling seas, ending with the words, Here we are, and here are you in Uriana, capital of new Formia. But how is it that you, Miles Cabot, have arrived here on this continent in exactly the same manner and condition in which I discovered you in old Formia, eight years ago? When Miles reached the end of reading this narrative, he in turn took the pad and stylus and related how he had gone to the planet Minos, which we call the Earth, to learn the latest discoveries and inventions there, and how his calculations for his return to Poros had been upset by some static conditions just as he had been about to transmit himself back, oh if only he had landed by chance upon the same beach as on his first journey through the skies. Wisely he refrained from mentioning the S.O.S. message from Lilla, but his recollection of her predicament spurred him to be anxious about her rescue. His immediate problem was to learn what the Ant-Man planned for him, so the concluding words which he wrote upon the pad were, and now that you have me in your power, what shall you do with me? Old friend, Dago wrote in reply, that depends entirely upon Uri our king, whose toga you now have on. 3 The Earth-Man grimaced, but then smiled, perhaps his succeeding to the toga of King Uri might prove to be an omen. So Uri is king of the ants, he asked. Yes, his captor replied, for Queen Formus did not survive the trip across the boiling seas. Then what of your empire, Miles inquired? No queen, no eggs. How can your race continue? For euformians are like the ants of my own planet, Minos. Dago's reply astounded him. Do you remember back at Watusa? I told you that some of us less formians had occasionally laid eggs. So now, behold, before you, Dago, admiral of the Formian air navy, and mother of a new queen Formus. This was truly a surprise. All along, Cabot had always regarded the formians as manish, and rightly so. For they performed in their own country the duties assigned to men among the cupians. Furthermore, all formians, save only the reigning Formus herself, were called by the Perovian pronoun which corresponds to he in English. When Miles had somewhat recovered from his astonishment, he warmly congratulated his friend by patting him on the side of the head, as is the Perovian custom. Dago, he wrote, this ought to constitute you a person of some importance among the formians. It ought to, the ant man replied, but as a matter of fact it merely intensifies your is mistrust and hatred of me. Now that I am mother of the queen, he fears that I may turn against him and establish Formus in his place as the head of an empire of the formians by the formians, and for the formians exclusively. Why don't you, Miles wrote, it seemed to him to be a bully, good idea, and incidentally a solution of his own difficulties. But Dago wrote in horror, it would be treason, then tore up all the correspondence. It is difficult to inculcate the thought of independence in the mind of one reared in an autocracy. The earth man, however, persisted. How many of the council can you count on, if the interests of Yuri should clash with those of Formus? Only one, myself. And again Dago tore up the correspondence. Miles tactfully changed the subject. Where is the archfiend now, he asked. We know not, the formian wrote in reply. Six days ago he left us in his airship and flew westward. When he failed to return we set out scout planes to search for him, and we have been hunting ever since. When we sighted you on the beach this morning we thought that you might be our lost leader, and that is why we landed and approached you. At about this point the conversation was interrupted by a worker ant who brought food, roast alta and green aphid milk. With what relish did the earth man plunge into the feast, his first taste of Perovian delicacies in many months. During the meal conversation lagged, owing to the difficulty of writing and eating at the same time. But now Miles Cabot seized his pad in stylus and wrote, Have you ever known me to fail in any undertaking on the planet Poros? No, the ant man wrote in reply. Have you ever known me to be untrue to a principal, a cause, or a friend? No, Dogo replied. Then Miles wrote, Let us make your daughter queen in fact as well as in name. It is treason, Dogo wrote in reply. But this time he did not tear up the correspondence. Treason? Miles asked. If he had spoken the word he would have spoken it with scorn and derision. Treason? Is it treason to support your own queen? What has become of the national pride of the once great Formians? Look, I pledge myself to the cause of Formus, rightful queen of Formia. Formus, daughter of Dogo, what say you? This time as he tore up the correspondence, Dogo signified an affirmative and thus there resulted further correspondence. Dogo, Miles wrote, Can you get to the antenna of the queen? The ant man indicated that he could. If she has inherited any of your character, Miles continued, she will assert herself if given half a chance. So the pit man's conversation continued. Longsense had the pink light of Peruvian evening faded from the western sky. The ceiling vapor lamps were lit. The night showed velvet black through the slit like windows and still the two old friends wrote on. Miles' standish cabot, the Bostonian, and Dogo, number 334-2-18, the only really human like ant man who Miles had ever known among the once dominant race of Poros. Finally, as the dials indicated midnight, the two conspirators ceased their labors. All was arranged for the coup d'état. They tore into shreds every scrap of used paper, leaving extant merely the ant man's concluding words. Meanwhile you are my prisoner. Dogo then rang a soundless bell which was answered by a worker ant, whom he inaudibly directed to bring sufficient draperies to form a bed for the earth man. These brought the two friends patted each other a fond good night, and the tired earth man lay down for the first sleep which he had had in over 40 earth hours. It hardly seemed possible. Night before last he had slept peacefully on a conventional feather bed in a little New England farmhouse. Then had come the SOS message from the skies, and here he was now, millions of miles away through space retiring on matted silver felting on a concrete floor of a Perovian ant house. Such are the mutations of fortune. With these thoughts the returned wanderer lapsed into a deep and dreamless sleep. When he awakened in the morning there was a guard posted at the door. Dogo did not show up until nearly noon when he rattled in, bristling with excitement. Seizing the pad he wrote, a stormy session of a council of twelve. We are all agreed that you must be indicted for high crimes and misdemeanors. But the great question is as to just what we can charge you with. Sorry I can't assist you, the earth man wrote. How would it be if I were to slap your daughter's face or something? Or why not try me for general cussedness? This is just what we finally decided to do, the ant man wrote in reply. We shall try you on general principles and let the proper accusation develop from the evidence. At some stage of the proceedings it will inevitably occur to some member of the council to suggest that you be charged with treason to Yuri, whereupon two members of the council, whom I have won over to the cause of my daughter, will raise the objection that Yuri is not our king. This will be the signal for the proclaiming of Queen Formus. If you will waive counsel the trial can take place tomorrow. I will waive anything, Miles replied, counsel, immunity, extradition, anything in order to speed up my return to Cupia, while Lillia awaits in some dire extremity. All right, Dogo wrote, and the conference was at an end. The morrow would decide the ascendancy of Miles' cabinet or Prince Yuri over the new continent. End of Chapter 3, Recording by John Brandon Chapter 4 of The Radio Planet This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by M. C. Lindholm The Radio Planet by Ralph Milne Farley Chapter 4 The Kudita The next morning, Miles' cabinet was led under guard to the council chamber of the Dread 13, Formus and her twelve advisors. The accused was placed in a wicker cage from which he surveyed his surroundings as the proceedings opened. On a raised platform stood the ant queen, surmounted by a scarlet canopy which set off the perfect proportions of her jet black body. On each side of her stood six refined and intelligent ant men, her counselors. One of the twelve was Dogo. Messenger ants hurried hither and thither. First, the accusation was read, Miles being furnished with a written copy. The witnesses were then called. They were veterans who had served in the wars in which Cabot had twice freed Cupia from the domination of its Formian oppressors. They spoke with bitterness of the downfall of their beloved Formia. Their testimony was brief. Then the accused was asked if he wished to say anything in his own behalf. Miles rose, then shrugged his shoulders, sat down again, and wrote, I fully realize the futility of making an argument through the antennae of another, whereupon the queen and the council went into executive session. Their remarks were not intended for the eyes of the prisoner, but he soon observed that some kind of a dispute was on between Dogo, supported by two counselors named M.U. and F.U.M. on one side, and a counselor named Barth on the other. As this dispute reached its height, a messenger ant rushed in and held up one paw. Cabot's interpreter, not deeming this a part of the executive session, obligingly translated the following into writing. The messenger, Yuri lives and reigns over Cupia. It is his command that Cabot die. Barth, it is the radio. No then, oh queen, and ye members of the council, that when we fled across the boiling sea under the gallant leadership of Prince Yuri, the man with the heart of a Formian. He brought with him one of those powerful radio sets invented by the beast who is our prisoner here today. Supporters of Yuri still remain among the Cubians, and he has been in constant communication with these ever since shortly after our arrival here. From them, he learned of the return of Miles Cabot to the planet Minos. Then Yuri disappeared. Those of us who were closest to him suspected that he had gone back across the boiling sea to claim as his own the throne of Cupia, but we hesitated to announce this until we were sure, for we feared that some of our own people would regard his departure as desertion. Yet who can blame him for returning to his fatherland and to the throne which is his by rights? To which the messenger added, And he offers to give us back our own old country if we too will return across the boiling seas again. It is a lie, Dogo shouted. Yuri, the usurper of the thrones of two continents, shouted Emu. Yuri, our rightful leader, shouted Barth. Give us a queen of our own race, shouted Fum. Release the prisoner! shouted the queen. And that is all that Miles learned of the conversation, for his interpreter at this juncture stopped writing and obeyed the queen. The earth man was free. With one bound he gained the throne where fighting was already in progress between the two factions. Barth and Dogo were rolling over and over on the floor in a death grapple, while the and queen had backed to the rear of the stage closely guarded by Emu and Fum. Seizing one of the pikes which supported the scarlet canopy, Miles wretched it loose and drove it into the thorax of Barth. In another instant the earth man and Dogo stood beside the queen. Ant men now came pouring into the chamber through all the entrances, taking sides as they entered and sized up the situation. If it had still been in vogue among the Formians to be known by numbers, rather than names, and to have these identifying numbers painted on the backs of their abdomens followed by the numbers of those whom they had defeated in the duals so common among them, then many a Formian would have got the number of many another that day. As Miles battled with his pike beside Formus, queen of the ants, he could well imagine the conflicting shouts of death to the usurper, Formia for the Formians, long live queen Formus, long live Prince Yuri, which must have resounded throughout the chamber. But to him all was silent, for he was without the antennae wherewith to pick up the radiated speech of the contenders. So as he wielded the pike in silence, he had opportunity to reflect on the incongruity of his position. Here was he, Miles Cabot, regent of Cupia, the man who had driven the ants forever from their dominion over his people, and yet now fighting side by side with their leaders defending the life of their queen. Yet was she not the daughter of Dago, his only friend among the ants, and would not her victory mean the speedy return of Miles to his own continent? As the earth man jabbed to right and left among the supporters of his enemy Yuri, there came to his human ears the sound of rifle fire. It might prove a godsend or an added menace, according to whose paw held the rifle. But no chances must be taken on the life of the queen, so Miles made frantic signs to Dago of impending danger. The queen and her supporters outnumbered were fighting with their backs to one of the walls of the room. A short distance along this wall on the side where Cabot stood was a door, so he now began edging his way along the wall to this door. This was not difficult, as the ant men having only their mandibles to fight with greatly respected his pike. He gained the door and passed by, but not through it. The shots came nearer and nearer, then Dago opened the door and slipped through with Formus and the rest of her immediate supporters. The door closed and Miles Cabot stood guarding the exit with his pike, alone, against the hordes of Anthem. He had no difficulty in defending himself from those in front of him, but the ants who began to close in on him from each side were a different matter. He received several bad scratches on his shoulders and hips, and his toga was ripped and torn. But fortunately, he was able to ward off their paralyzing bites. Nevertheless, his enemies pressed so close that it was difficult for him to manipulate his long weapon. In fact, it was only the jamming of the ants upon one another and upon the dead bodies of their slain comrades that kept them from him. He now was holding his pike by the middle, with both hands, using one end as a club and the other as a dagger. The black circle of the ants was steadily closing in on him. A pair of mandibles from his left snapped angrily within a few inches of his throat. Instantly, he drove the point of his lance home between the horrid jaws. But at the same instant, his butt was seized by a pair of jaws to his right. He could not pull it free. At last, he was weaponless. And not only that, but pinned to the wall by the shaft of his own pike as well. And then, to his surprise, the ants before him separated as at a command. The butt of his lance was dropped, as Miles wretched the point loose from the dead body of the Formian in which it had been stuck, and gazed expectant down the long aisle, which had opened before him, he saw confronting him at the other end, an ant-men, armed with the peculiar type of claw-operated rifle which the Formians had adapted from those which Miles himself had built for cupian use in the First War of Liberation. Briefly, the two surveyed each other. Then, slowly the rifle was raised until its aim settled squarely upon the earth man's chest. Instantaneously, the glance of Miles' cabot swept the black hordes which hemmed him in on each side. There was no escape. Yet how can man die better than facing fearful odds? With a wild war-woop, which was utterly lost on the radio sense of the assembled Formians, Miles charged down the narrow way straight into the muzzle of the rifle of his antagonist. The astonished ant-men hastily pulled the trigger. A shot rang out, but still the impetuous rush of Miles continued, and before the rifle could be discharged a second time, Miles had driven his spear deep into the leering insect face. The Formians staggered back. The rifle clattered to the floor. The earth man, not waiting to withdraw his own weapon, stooped and seized the fallen firearm and wheeled to confront his enemies who fell back in a snarling arc before this new menace. Miles stood now in one of the entranceways of the council chamber, and thus was secure against flank attack, but not against an assault from the rear. In fact, even as he stood thus irresolute, a rattling noise behind him in the hallways revealed to his human ears the approach of a new enemy. What was he to do? To remain as he was meant carte blanche to this newcomer, whereas to turn about would mean that those within the chamber would undoubtedly rush him. In this predicament, Miles grasped his gun firmly and wheeled backward to the left until he was flattened against the wall of the corridor in which he was standing. From this position he could turn his head slightly to the left and see into the council chamber, or to the right and look down the long hall. Directly opposite him was one of those narrow, slit like windows so typical of Perovian architecture. It was too narrow for the passage of the huge body of an ant man, but a human being could conceivably squeeze through. Thus it offered a means out, a way of escape. The lone ant in the corridor was joined by the others. They and their compatriots within the chamber slowly closed in on the cornered earth man. There was no time to speculate upon the depth of the drop outside. With a suddenness which caused his aggressors to recoil momentarily, Miles dashed across the window, forced his way through, and still grasping his rifle plunged headlong two stories into a clump of gray lichens in the courtyard below. Hastily extracting himself he looked up at the window which he had just quitted. There, framed by the masonry, was the head of an ant man. A quick shot in the head stared at him no more. Before another formian could take the post at the window to observe the direction of Cabot's departure, the latter ran quickly from the courtyard garden into the interior of the building again. His first thought was to join Dago, Queen Formus, and their faction. So, taking a firm hold of his rifle, he hurried in the direction in which they had made their escape. The first ant man whom he met within the building was Emu, one of the three members of the council who had been a party to the original conspiracy. This ant was fleeing from something in very evident terror so that it was all Cabot could do to stop him, but the threat of rifle shooting was finally effective. Then, extracting a cartridge from the magazine of his firearm, Cabot scratched upon the smooth wall the brief question, what of Dago and Formus? Emu snatched the cartridge and quickly wrote the reply, dead, both dead, the revolution has collapsed, flee for your life. Then the ant man clattered rapidly down the corridor, taking the precious cartridge with him. He had not been too flustered to think of that. Miles heaved a sigh of self-reproach at having brought his friends to this sad end. But then he reflected, Dago had been in a situation in which conflict with the authorities and then execution would have been inevitable sooner or later. The revolution had been his one best bet, and it was no one's fault that it had failed. Now that Dago and Formus were dead, there was no longer any obligation binding Miles to stay and fight. In fact, he owed it to his loved ones in Cupid to preserve his own life until he could find some way of rejoining them. So he set out to escape from the city. For some time, he threaded the corridors without meeting any ants. Although occasionally, there drifted down to him the sounds of fighting on the upper levels. But at last, as he rounded a turn, he saw before him a Formian, and it was one whom he recognized, namely the messenger ant who had brought to the trial the radiogram from Prince Yuri. The ant's back was toward him. Cabot cautiously withdrew a step. Then, raising his rifle, he again advanced and fired full at the enemy. But the hammer merely clicked. There was no explosion. The magazine was empty. Cabot's first impulse was to throw the weapon away. Then he reflected that even an unloaded gun might well serve to all his enemies and hold them at a distance, so he retained it. By this time, the messenger ant had disappeared around a turn further down the corridor, so Cabot hastened after him. For it had suddenly occurred to the Earthman that this ant was undoubtedly returning to the hidden radio set once he had come. Radio. Means of a communication with his own continent if he could but reach the instruments. The messenger had announced at the trial that Yuri was in Cupidia and knew of Cabot's presence in this new land. Thus, it was certain that complete wireless communication had been established between the two continents. But equally, undoubtedly, this communication had been established at a wavelength which kept the knowledge of Cabot's return pretty much a secret of Prince Yuri and his own followers. This information would probably induce the Renegade Prince to speed up whatever nefarious schemes he had afoot in Cupidia. But if Cabot could once get on the air and adjust the Formian sending set to the wavelength of Luno Castle or run it through all its available wavelengths, he could broadcast to the Cupidian nation the fact that he was alive and well and would return again, though he knew not how to lead them. Such news should strengthen the hearts of the loyal Cupidians to rally to the cause of his wife, the Princess Lila, and his son, the baby king. So he quickened his pace and soon caught sight of the messenger ant. From then on he stealthily stalked his query, who led him through many a winding passageway before finally they emerged from the city into the open fields. Beyond the fields lay the rocky foothills of a mountain range. Caution dictated that Cabot remain under the shelter of the city walls until the Formian disappeared among the rocks. Then he ran lightly across the plain to take up the trail once more. As he too gained the rocks he glanced back to see if his departure had been noted. No, there was no sign of life. Evidently the fighting had drawn all the inhabitants to the interior of the city, so with a sigh of relief, Miles hurried after the messenger ant. At the place where Miles had noticed the Formian enter the rocks, there was the well-defined beginning of a trail, so up this winding trail he sped and soon caught sight of his query. From that time on more caution was necessary, but nevertheless the pursuer was able to keep the pursuit always in sight, until just after a turn in the road had obscured his view, Miles came upon a place where the way forked. Pausing, he scratched his head in dismay, then carefully examined the ground for evidence of claw marks, but none were apparent. Dropping to his hands and knees the earth man scrutinized the dirt with even more care, and at last imagining that he observed some slight scratches to the right, he took the right hand branch. It was necessary for him to proceed with great rapidity if he would catch up with the messenger ant, so Miles broke into a dog-trot. On and on he ran, up into the rocky mountains. As he sat down, exhausted on a large boulder, just as the silvery sky turned crimson in the west, and darkness crept up out of the east, it was quite evident that he had taken the wrong road at the fork, and also that he must now spend the night, half clad and alone, amid the rocks of the mountains of this strange new continent. End of Chapter 4, Kudita, recorded by M. C. Lindholm Recording by Kuro Demeninko, The Radio Planet, by Ralph Milne Farley But although Miles' capid was lost, he was free for the first time since his return to Paris. The nut disheartened, he arose and proceeded along the trail, looking for food and a place to spend the night, and presently came upon a green cow, as he would want to call the aphids which are kept by both cupians and formians for the honeydew which they produce. It made no objection to Cabot's approach, nor to his manipulating of the two horns which projected from its back, with the result that the tired man was presently regaling himself with a satisfying draft of green milk from the leafy cup. The bush, which furnished the leaf to fashion the cup, closely resembled the tartan bushes of Coupier, whose heart-shaped leaves are put to so many uses in that country, Miles' capid accordingly stripped off a considerable portion of the foliage, and laid down in a bed of warm, thick green for the night. The morning dawn silver bright. Miles drew another meal from the grazing aphid, and then pressed on up the rocky file. He did not dare return for fear of meeting Ant-Man, and besides, now that a night's rest at, to some extent, tempered his chagrin, at not catching up with a particular Ant-Man who he had been pursuing, he could not be sure he had taken the wrong road after all. So on he went up the rocky path. Around noon, the path petered out at the top of an eminent, which gave Cabot an opportunity to survey the surrounding scenery. To the westward lay the city from which he had fled. What had become, he wondered, of the supporters of his friend Dago, an informus, the Ant Queen, whose cause he had disposed. According to Emu, Dago and Formus were both dead, or Cabot would have never deserted them. Cabot turned his attention next to the northward. His great joy, on the next peak to the one where he sat, there stood two rough wooden towers, spanned by an aerial. He decided to cut across the country and attempt to approach the installation by stealth, so he started scrambling down into the intervening valley. Never before had the earthmen traveled through such difficult country. As soon as he had gone a short distance below the summit, he encountered a continuous expanse of boulders, raging in size from a man's head to 20 feet or more in diameter, and piled aimlessly together, lying crossways in every direction, upon and between the rocks, with a gaunt's skeletons of foam trees in all stages of decay. The sharp edges of the rock cut and tore the bare feet of the earthmen, while the splinters of the fallen trees jabbed his body. Time and again he slipped and nearly fell into one of the chasms, which yawned between the boulders, and on one of those occasions he must have inadvertently let go of the ant rifle, which he had treasured so far so carefully, for presently he noticed that it was gone. But to all this there was one extenuating feature, although Miles did not realize it at the time, namely that his physical pain and the need for constant vigilance on his part so occupied his mind, as to spare him from the mental pain which yet has been almost constant companion since his return to porous. The attention necessary to avoid mistratching a step, or slipping into a dark deep hole, or being impaled by a tree branch, crowded out of his mind, even his great love and anxiety for Princess Lilla and Baby Q. Through the maze of obstacles, Cabot toiled all day long, oh, to reach the radio station established by his enemy Yuri, and get it into touch with his own continent. Thus he could learn what has happened in Coupier, and also give word of his safe arrival on the planet. Safe. He smiled grimly at the word. I must reach that station, he thought. And then, when I have talked with Coupier, I must secure a Formian plane by hook or by crook, and brave the boiling seas. If ants have crossed these seas safely, if Urias safely crossed them twice, then why cannot I, the Menorian? As he communed this with himself, a faint pink flush appeared in the sky. Slowly, painfully, he continued his way. Gradually the pink light turned to crimson in the west, and then darkened to a royal purple. Gradually the black night crept up out of the east. But also gradually the boulders became smaller and smaller as he clamored upward. Until just as darkness finally enveloped the planet, the tired man gained the smooth rocks of the summit, and laid down amid some leaves. He had had nothing to eat or drinks in his breakfast of green milk that morning. He had undergone an exhausting journey. His feet were bruised and cut. His body covered with innumerable scratches, and he was weary, thirsty, and hungry. But he had almost reached the point which he had been seeking, and this thought comforted him as his eyes closed in a healthy and dreamless sleep. Next morning, early he was up, rested, parched, and ravenous. As the first faint pink tinged the eastern sky, Miles Cabot shook off the leaves and completed the ascent. It only required a few moments for him to reach the top, a narrow plateau, about a mile in length near the farther end of which there stood a small cabin, with its two towers and aerial. With a cry of joy, which he knew the earless formians could not hear, he erased towards it. The huge chain and lock, which secured its doors on the outside, indicated that it was unoccupied, and a glance through the narrow, slick-like windows confirmed this. The glance through the window also revealed the presence of a complete radio, sending and receiving set of the same general hookup which he himself had adapted for the use of the cupians and formians on the other continent. Imitation is the most insulting form of flattery. As pobloth, the cupian philosopher used to say, yet Cabot was willing to brook the insult, until suddenly dawned on him that the set had no earphones nor microphone. Of course not, since it was designed for use by creatures who possess neither ears nor vocal speech. Gone then was all hope of news from home, even if he could succeed in breaking in. At the most, he would merely be able, by interposing an interrupter in the primary or secondary of that aerial circuit, to send a dot-dash message across the boiling seas. I used the term aerial circuit, because antenna circuit would be ambiguous, as the latter term might have either its conventional or significance, or might mean the circuit in which the formian operator would place his living antenna in sending and receiving. Well, even a chance to send to cupia a message to the effect that he was free and safe would be worth something. Miles Cabot tried the slit-like windows, and finding them too narrow, slit quickly down the nearby slope, soon to return laboriously with the twenty pound rock which he heaved against the door. Again and again he heaved the rock, until he had the satisfaction of seeing the door crack and then give. Finally, a large enough opening was affected to afford passage for a man, although not for a formian, and through this breach, Miles Cabot squeezed into the station. A few minutes scrutiny familiarized him with the details of the hookup, the generator set, and the trophy engine. Everything was in running order, and the fuel tank was full, so he fashioned a rude sending key, broke one of the circuits, and tied in the key. Then he warmed up and cranked the trophy engine, clutched in the generator, threw the mainswitch, and sat down to flash across the seas, the message which he was to hold firm his partisans in cupia, until he could join them. But at that instant, an arrow hummed through the hole in the door, and struck quivering in the bench beside him. Cabot sprang to his feet, and slid home the huge beam which barred the door on the inside. This was a precaution which he had neglected to take before. Next, he filled the hole in the door with some boards hastily wrenched from the workbench. Then, picking up a formian rifle and bandolier which hung on the wall, he made his way to one of the slit windows on the same side as the door, and peeped cautiously out. The result was immediate. An arrow sped through the window and passed just above his head. But even as he ducked instinctively, he saw a dark form moving behind a bush at some distance outside. So quickly rising again, he just charged the rifle squared the bush. There came a cry of pain followed by silence, and there was no more feathered intrusions. Not knowing whether his enemy has been disposed of, or whether the cessation of the stream of arrows was merely a ruse, he enticed him from his shelter. Miles did not dare went her forth to investigate. From the first time the arrow had struck the workbench, until the final squelching of the unknown enemy, Miles had been engrossed in action. Now came the reaction. As he realized how narrowly he had twice escaped from death in the last few minutes, he shuddered at the thought and turned pale. Not however at the danger to himself, but rather at the danger to his loved ones in Cupia. He must keep himself alive until he could reach and save them from whatever peril it was that has caused Lua to send the SOS, which had recalled him to Porus. But being ever the inquisitive scientist, his attention was soon distracted by the arrow which stood sticking to the bench. Its shaft was of some hard and very springy wood. Its tip was of chopped stone resembling flint and bound to the shaft by vegetable fibers. Its feathers were thin laminate of wood. Doubtless because birds, and hence true feathers, are unknown on Porus. Why on earth, or rather on Porus, were the ant men employing such crude weapons? Rifles they had aplenty, and powder was easy to manufacture. Besides, what did they know of bows and arrows, which had never been used by them, even in the days before Cabot the Menorian introduced firearms upon the plan. Thus these arrows presented a perplexing problem, but a practical job remained to be performed before Miles was to have any time for abstract questions. The message to Coupia must be send off. The earth men returned to the radio set. The trophy engine and the generator were still running. The whole apparatus appeared to be functioning properly. And so Miles stuck off into space the following message. CQ, CQ, CQ, DE, Cabot, Cabot, Cabot. I have returned to Porus for minutes. I am on the continent of the Formians. I am in complete control there. That was a lie, but it would serve to hearten his supporters, or throw the fear of the supreme boulder into the partisans of Yuri, which it reached. The message continued, Do not expect me soon, for the first time I must consolidate what I have gained here. But when I do come, Yuri beware. My friends, hold out until then, I have spoken, DE, Cabot. This message he sent again and again, at every wavelength of which the installation was capable. He repeated and repeated it until he was tired. And then, for the first time, he remembered his thirst and his hunger. Fortunately, there was both food and drink in the shack. So Cabot satisfied his wants, and then went at his message again. When at last he paused once more for a rest and shut off the trophy engine. His human ears got a familiar rattling sound. Instantly he realized the situation. One or more ant men were approaching. Sure enough, as he looked out of a window in the direction of the sound, he saw two of these creatures trotting toward him across the plateau. Both carried rifles slung at their backs, so without waiting for their nearer approach, miles open fire. One of the four men strut, but the other turned and fled, and in spite of the hail of bullets which the earthmen sent after it, reached the crest in apparent safety, and disappeared from view. Cabot knew what that meant to him. It portened in an early return of the fugitive ant with scores of his fellows. To lay siege to the radio station. Then a doubt occurred to him. What if these ants were a member of Dalgo's faction, and he had killed a friend? And so, at the risk of his life, he unborrowed the door and rushed out to inspect the dead body. But it was no ant whom he knew. Time would tell whether the surviving ant would return with friends or foes. Meanwhile, Cabot must get busy with his message. So, at it again, he went, first barring the door again. From time to time, he rested and listened for their approach of the Formians. Occasionally he ate and drank. During his long arrests, he carted the rifle, the ammunition, and some provisions to appoint quite a distance down the mountain side, and cache-ate them there. For he had formulated a plan of escape. Mostly, he stuck to his signaling. Alcupia, or such of it as might still possess long distance radio sets, in spite of the renewed dominion of Yuri, must be made to know of the return of Miles Cabot from the earth. Night fell, and with it came a respite from the danger of Formian attack. For these creatures would never venture forth in the darkness without lights, and lights would betray them. Miles spent part of the night in sending his message, part in watching for approaching lights, and part in dozing. Finally, along toward morning, he set about wrecking the set. For he did not wish the Formians to get into communication with Coupia, and undo the effect of his own message by pointing out its falsity. Accordingly, he smashed the tubes, unwound the inductances and transformers, cut all the wiring into little bits, bend the plates of the condensers, chiseled through the coils of the generator, pounded the trophal engine to pieces, and drained the trophal tank. It would be many songs before the new radio set could be built, if indeed these Formians knew enough of the art to even build another. His work of destruction completed. He sat down to wait, but the inaction pawled on him, and before he knew it he had fallen soundlessly. He awakened with a start. It was broad daylight. He listened. There was much rattling outside. So he walked to the door, unbarded, and stepped out. He was not afraid. For on the evening before, he had nailed above the door two cross sticks, the Peruvian equivalent of a flag of truce. At a short distance stood a band of thirty or forty antmen, their leader holding a pair of cross sticks. Accordingly, the ragged earth men advanced, not one of them did he recognize. But this was no indication of their identity. Were these members of the urethaction, he wondered? Or of the faction recently captained by the now-diseased Dago? If the former, they were conquerors intent on adding him to their list of conquests. But if the latter, then they might be fugitives like himself. It behooved him to find out, so he proceeded to a slight depression in the mountaintop, very near the group of Formians. This depression contained soil, and in it he scratched the Peruvian shorthand the words, yuri or dago, then pointed to his message and withdrew for a slight distance. One of the antmen advanced alone to the depression, stared at the words, rubbed one part of them, and returned to his comrades, at which Cabot in turn advanced. The one word remaining written in the dirt was yuri, so these were vicious enemies, rather than fugitive friends. The waving signal that the interview was at an end, Miles Cabot returned with dignity to the shack and pulled down his cross sticks. But then, instead of entering, he suddenly dashed around the house and slid down the mountainside amid a shower of pebbles. Instantly the Formian pack rushed after him, but they were too late, for by the time they had gained the crest he was safely under cover of the bushes, making his way down the slope with his rifle, ammunition, and provision. That meant evidently feared an ambush, for they did not follow. This side of the mountain, the eastern, was wooded, instead of the almost impassable boulders over which he had climbed up the other side two days ago. Accordingly, the descent was easy, almost pleasant. Soon he struck a path besides a little brook, and followed it until it led out onto the fertile eastern plains, which he had observed when he had topped the syringe of hills. Behind a large tree besides the brook, at the edge of the plain, Miles Cabot stopped and sat down for lunch, and it was while seated thus, with his back against the tree trunk, that an arrow suddenly whistled through the woods and embedded itself in the bark just above his head. Startled, he sprang to his feet, seized his rifle, and looked around. The second arrow sped through the air, and this one did not miss him. In due course of time, Miles regained consciousness. He was lying on the ground, beneath the same tree. There was an ugly gash in his head. His rifle, ammunition, and food were gone. His face and body were covered with clotted blood, and he felt very faint. With difficulty, he dragged himself to the street, tore off a piece of his ragatoga, and washed away some of the gore. But it required an almost superhuman effort. He lay on the bank and panted. His head swam. His surroundings began to blur and dance about. And then he swooned again. After what seemed an interminable time, he became dimly conscious that he was lying on something less hard than the ground. Soft arms were around him. Someone was crooning to him, sweet words and low. Was this a dream, or was he back once more in Kupia with his loved ones? Miles opened his weary eyes. Around him hung barbaric tapestries. He was lying on a couch covered by the same materials. Seated on the couch beside him was a creature, human, in form, but covered with short golden brown fur. It seemed to be a young woman of some species. But of what species? Miles threw back his head and studied the creature's face, expecting to see the prognathous features of some anthropoid ape. But no, for eyes, nose, mouth, ears and all were human, distinctly human, and of high type. They might have been the features of an earth girl, except for the fact that the short brown fur persisted on the face as on the rest of the body. The general effect reminded Cabot for all the world of a teddy bear. Yes, that is what this creature was, an animated human teddy bear. Seeing Cabot looking at her, the creature smiled down at him and murmured some strange words in a soothing musical voice. Also she stroked his cheek with one of her furry paws. At this moment the hangings parted, and there stepped into their presence a man of the species, wearing a leather tunic and leather helmet, and carrying a wooden spear. Vowing low before the furry lady, he spoke to her in the same soft tongue, which he had employed in addressing Miles. Not a single syllable was familiar to the earth man, but he caught the words Roy and Verking repeated a number of times, and also made out that the furry man had addressed the furry lady as Archie Lu. Archie Lu now arose from the couch, and taking a tablet and a stick of charcoal from a nearby stand, wrote some characters upon a sheet of paper, and handed it to the man who bowed and withdrew. The pet and charcoal gave Miles an idea. If he was to stay any length of time with these creatures, he had better start in at once learning both their written and their spoken language. And perhaps when he had mastered it, he could persuade these friendly yet warlike folk to assist him against the Formians. He judged that they were kindly because of the actions of the furry lady, and they were warlike because of the habiliments of the furry man. Putting his idea into action, Miles sat up, gathering a gaudy blanket about his shoulders, and pointed to the writing materials. With a furry smile, Archie Lu brought them to him. Having been through this game once before, he knew just where to begin. He pointed to the couch, and handed her the pad and charcoal, whereupon the lady spoke some absolutely unintelligible sound, and wrote upon the pad, in unmistakable, cupien shorthand, the familiar cupien word for couch. Miles could hardly believe his senses. He stared at the paper, rubbed his eyes, and then stared again. How was it that this creature employed a written character, identical with the word used by another race, far across the impassable boiling seas, to designate the same thing? But perhaps this was merely a coincidence. So he pointed to another object. Again there came a strange sound, coupled with the familiar cupien symbol. The experiment was repeated, and repeated, always with the same result. Then Cabot himself took the writing materials and inscribed a number of words, which sounded somewhat alike in Barovian and Tennis Beach. To these words Archie Lu gave an entirely different set of similar sounds. Aha! said Cabot himself. This language employs exactly the same words as are used on our continent, but translates the sound symbols of these words into entirely different sounds. Cabot's interpretation of the situation proved correct in the main, which fact made it extremely easy for him to master the new language. Already he could carry on a written conversation with his benefactress, and before long it became possible by dint of great care for him to talk aloud in simple sentences. Of course all this progress was not made at one sitting, for Archie Lu insisted that her patient take frequent rests. From time to time meals were served by female attendants. Meals abounding in strange meats, mostly lobster-like, but some resembling fish and flesh. Each night Archie Lu departed, leaving a furry man creature on guard with leather armor and wooden spear. As he mastered the language, Miles learned the following facts from Archie Lu. Her people were called the Verkings, and she was the eldest daughter of Theof, their ruler. The Verkings were a primitive race. Apparently they knew nothing of any of the metals, but had made considerable progress in the arts of tanning, weaving, and carpentry. The fact that they had made cloth accounted for the fact that they had paper. Their leather they had obtained from the hides of a large variety of nocturnal reptiles, known indiscriminately as noopers, and ranging in size from that of a cat to that of an elephant. Though all possessed the common characteristics of small heads, long necks, stumpy legs, and long heavy tails. She explained, as follows to her guest, how he had been rescued. Our home is in the city of Verkingi, far away, a little east of north from here. We Verkings stick pretty close to the cities. For the great open spaces of our land are inhabited by predatory tribes of wild creatures, very like ourselves called roys. The leader of one of the largest tribes of these, Ot the Terrible, sought alliance with my father, and as the price of his alliance, a union between Ot and myself. But I spurned him. His hordes then attacked Verkingi but repulsed them and drove them to the southward, at present we are on a punitive expedition into their territory. Our warriors are under the command of Jud the Excuse-Maker. And my father, Theoth the Grim, and I have accompanied the headquarters, so as to witness the downfall of Ot the Terrible. It was undoubtedly one of the roys who wounded you, but the approach of our men drove them off before they had time to do you further harm. It was I myself who found you lying beside the brook, and I would feign possess you as my own, you who are unlike any man whom I have ever seen. Whence come you? I am from the planet Minos. O arkilu, the beautiful? Replyed Cabot. But the princess incredulously shook her head, saying, I know not whereof you speak, nor know I the meaning of the word planet. There are no other worlds than this continent which we inhabit, surrounded by boiling seas on all sides. Though rumour says that strange beasts from somewhere have landed and are building a city to the eastward of the mountains. Rumour has it right. Miles laconically interjected. For I had just escaped from those beasts when I was wounded by the arrow of the roys. Arkilu opened her eyes in wonder. Tell me about them, she breathed. So the earth man sat up, swathed in the gory tapestries of the ver-kings, and related to the furry princess the story of his adventures on the planet Poros. It was difficult to put it all into words within her comprehension, for neither she, nor her people, could know anything of radio, of the solar system, of airplanes, or of rifles. Accordingly his account ran about as follows. Know, O princess, that there is another land called Minos, or, in our own language, the earth. Far above those silver clouds, one million times the distance from here to your capital city, ver-kingi. Also there is, beyond the boiling seas, another land much like this, where dwell hairless men called cupians. And also the black beasts to whom you have referred. These beasts are called formians. Cupians and formians cannot talk with their mouths, as you and I. Nor do they have ears to hear with. Instead they communicate by a kind of soundless magic called radio. But they write the same language as do you ver-kings. On the earth I was master of this magic radio, but one day my own magic proved too strong for me, and shot me through the skies to Formia, where the Formians captured me. I found that the cupians were the slaves of the Formians. By means of radio I was able to talk with both races. I escaped from the Formians. By other magic, which could throw small black stones faster than arrows, and with more deadly results, I led the cupians to victory over their oppressors. Their princess, Lilla, became my bride, and our son Q now sits on the throne of Cupia. But Prince Yuri, a renegade Cupian, rebelled against us, for he too loved Lilla. Miles continued, Yuri and his allies possessed magic wagons, which could fly through the air. What is fly? Arkelu interrupted. If you mean swim, it is impossible, for no creature ever lived which could swim in air. Ah, but this is magic, you must remember, he assured her. Have you, Verkings, never seen any peculiar black objects sailing through the sky since the rumored arrival of the Formians on your continent? Arkelu pursed her lips and thought. Yes, she admitted, there have been rumors of that too. Well, he continued, those were the flying wagons of the Formians. When we finally defeated them and drove them across the boiling seas in these wagons, I revisited the planet Earth by means of the radio magic of which I have told you, but on my attempted return to Cupia I landed on your continent instead by mistake and was again captured by my Formian enemies. Of my escape from them, my wounding by the royal arrow and my rescue by you, you already know. Arkelu smiled ingratiatingly. You are a pretty spinner of tales, therefore I shall keep you to amuse me. Me thinks that even Theoph the Grim will revel in your fantasies. And she leaned over and caressed Cabot's cheek with one furry hand. He quenched at the touch, yet strove not to offend her, whose continued friendship might mean so much toward his return to his own country. He watered her goodwill and her influence, but out of loyalty to Lilla he dreaded her love. To change the subject he inquired, when shall I be well enough to get up? You are well enough now, she replied, try to stand. At Miles insistence a leather suit was sent for. He soon found himself dressed like a soldier of the Bear Kings. Thus arrayed he stood and walked about a little inside the tent, but Arkelu would not permit him to venture outside until he should be stronger. Before leaving for the night, Arkelu announced, Tomorrow our expedition starts back for Varrakingi. When we reach the city I shall marry you, for I have decided that I love you. End of Chapter 6 Recording by John Brandon Chapter 7 Of The Radio Planet This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by John Brandon. The Radio Planet by Ralph Milne Farley Chapter 7 Radio Once More So Arkelu, the furry beauty, planned to marry Miles Cabot, the earth man. He who already loved and was wed by Lilla of Cupia. A happy prospect indeed. Yet he dared not repulse the Varrakingian maiden, lest thereby he lose his chance of returning to his home and family. For at last he had formulated a plan of action, namely to arm the hordes of Varrakingia. Lead them against the ant men, seize an ant plane, and with it fly back to Cupia. So for the present he appeared to fall in with matrimonial whim of the princess. Early the next morning, however, as he was prowling around inside the tent, testing his weak legs, he overheard a conversation on the outside, which changed the situation considerably. But father, Remin Trader to voice which Miles recognized as that of Arkelu, I found him, and therefore he's mine. I want him. He is beautiful. Beautiful? A stern male voice sarcastically replied, He must be without any fur. Oh, to think that my royal daughter would wish to wed a freak of nature, and a common soldier at that. He's not a common soldier, asserted the voice of Arkelu. He wears clothes merely so as to preserve his health for my sake. Well, a sickly cripple then, answered her father's voice. Which is just as bad. At all events, Judd is the leader of this expedition, and therefore this captive belongs to him. You can save him only if Judd so wills. It is the law. Miles' cabinet stealthily crossed the tent and put his eye to an opening between the curtains at the tent opening. There stood the familiar figure of Arkelu, and confronting her was a massive male verking. His fur, however, was snow-white, so that his general appearance resembled that of a polar bear. His face was appropriately harsh and cold. This was Theoth, the Grimm, ruler of the Bear Kings. The dispute continued, and then there approached another man of the species. The newcomer, Blackford, was short, squat, and gnarled, yet possessed of unquestionable intelligence, and a certain dignity was clearly indicated that he was of noble rank. He wore a leather helmet and carried a wooden lance. Theoth, the Grimm, hailed him with, Oh, Judd, what brings you here? Judd raised his spear diagonally across his chest as a salute and replied, A change of plans, Excellency! Upon reaching the river I decided that it would be wiser not to return to Bear Kingy by that route, really meaning Arkelu interposed with a laugh that you found it impossible to throw a bridge across that point. Why do you always doubt the reasons for my actions? Judd asked in an aggrieved tone. You wrong me, she replied. I never doubt your reasons. Your reasons are always of the best. What I doubt is your excuses. Enough, enough, the King shouted. For I wish to discuss more immediate matters than nice distinctions of language. Judd's reasons or excuses, or whatever, are good enough for me. Judd, I wish to inform you that my daughter has recently captured a strange, furlous being, whom it is my pleasure to turn over to you. I have not yet seen this oddity. Father, please, Arkelu begged, but at this juncture, Miles exasperated by Theof's remarks, part of the tent curtains, and stepped out. Look well, O King, he shouted. Here stands Miles Cabot, the Menorian. Beast from another world, freak of nature, sickly cripple common soldier, and all that. Look well, O King. A bit loud-mouthed, I should say, the off-the-grim sniffed. Not one whittabashed. Watch him crumple at the presence of a real man, added Judd the excuse-maker. Suiting the action to the word, the latter stepped over to Miles and suddenly slapped him on the face. As a boy the earth man had often seen larger boys point to their cheek or shoulder with the words, There is an electric button there. Touch it and something will fly out and hit you. But never as a boy had he dared to press the magic button, for he could well imagine the result. Such a result now occurred to Judd, for the instant his fingers touched Cabot's cheek, out blew Cabot's clenched fist. Smacked to the point of Judd's jaws, tumbled him in the dust. Judd picked himself up snarling, shook himself, and then rushed bull-like at the earth man who stood his ground, ducked the flying arms of his antagonist, and tackled him as in the old football days at college. Judd was thrown for a four-yard loss, with much of the breath knocked out of his body. Be off the grim. With a worried frown, Anarchy blew the beautiful with an entranced smile, stood by and watched the contest. The verking noble lay motionless on his back as Miles scrambled to his knees astride the other's body and placed his hands on the other's shoulders. But suddenly the underdog threw up his left leg, caught Miles on the right shoulder, and pushed him backward. In an instant both men were on their feet again, glaring at each other. Then they clenched and went down once more, this time with Judd on top. He off's look changed to a smile, and Archie Lou became worried. But before Judd had time to follow up his advantage, Cabot secured a hammerlock around his neck and shoulders, and then slowly forced him to one side, until their positions were reversed and the shoulders and hips of the furry one were squarely touching the ground. In a wrestling match this would have constituted a victory for Miles Cabot, but this was a fight and not a mere wrestling match. So the earth man secured a hammerlock again and turned Judd the excuse maker over until he lay prone, whereupon the victor rubbed the nose of the vanquished back and forth in the dirt, until he heard a muffled sound, which he took to be the Verkingian equivalent of the Nuff, so familiar to every pugnacious American schoolboy. His honor satisfied Judd arose, rushed himself off, and vowed to the two spectators. Judd sheepishly got to his feet as well. All the fight knocked out of them. They off stared at the victor with displeasure, and at his own countrymen with disgust. But Archelieu rushed over to Cabot with a little cry, lunged her arms around him, and drew him within the tent. As they passed through the curtains, Miles heard Judd the excuse maker explaining to the king, I decided to let him beat me, so that thereby I might give pleasure to her whom I love. Inside the tent Archelieu bathed the scratches and bruises of the earth man, and hovered around him and fussed over him as though he had accomplished something much more wonderful than merely to have come out on top in a schoolboy rough-and-tumble fight. Miles was very sorry that it all had happened, in the first place he had lost his temper, which was to his discredit. In the second place, he had made a hero of himself in the eyes of the lady whose love he was most anxious to avoid, and in the third place he had fought the man who was best calculated to protect him from that undesired love. Altogether he had made a mess of things, and all he could do about it was make Lee submit to the administrations of the furry princess. What a life! Finally Archelieu departed, leaving Cabot alone with recriminations for his rashness, longings for his own princess Lilla, and worries for her safety. The next day the expedition took up its delayed start homeward, Judd having found a route which required no alibis. The tents were struck and were piled with the other impedimenta on two-wheeled carts, which the common soldiers fold with long ropes. In spite of Archelieu's pleadings, Miles was assigned to one of these gangs. The off, grimly remarking, if the hairless one is well enough to vanquish Judd, he is well enough to do his share of the work. Judd explained to Archelieu that the real reason why he had suggested this was that he sincerely believed that the exercise would be good for Cabot's health. During one of the halls, when Judd happened to be near Cabot's gang, the earth man strode over to the commander, who instinctively cringed at his approach. I'm not fighting today, Miles assured the Bear King with an engaging smile, but may I have a word with you. So the two withdrew a short distance out of earshot of the rest, and Miles continued, I do not love Archelieu the beautiful. You do. Let us understand one another and help one another. You assist me to keep away from the princess, and I shall assist you by keeping away from the princess. Later I shall make further suggestions as to how we can cooperate to mutual advantage. I have spoken. Judd stared at him with perplexed admiration. Who are you? he asked. Who stands unabashed in the presence of kings and nobles, who addresses a superior without permission and yet without offensive familiarity? I am Cabot the Minorean, the other replied, ruler over Kupia, a nation larger and more powerful than yours. A race of fearsome beasts have landed on the western shores of your continent. They are enemies of mine and will become enemies of yours, as they extend their civilization and run counter to yours. Impossible, Judd exclaimed. For how could these mythical creatures cross the boiling seas to land on our shores? My magic answered Miles, magic which they stole from me, and they held me personal until I overthrew their magic and escaped, to be found by your expedition. Then you are a magician? Yes. Ah, that explains how you defeated me in combat yesterday. Judd asserted with a relieved sigh. We will let it go at that, Miles agreed, smiling, but to continue, let me frankly warn you that unless you destroy these formians, they will eventually destroy you. They now possess magic, against which you, their kings, would be powerless. Magic methods of soundless speech, magic devices for transmitting that speech as far as from here to their king, magic wagons which can travel through the air and at such a speed that they could go from here to their king and back in a twelfth part of a day, and magic bows which shoot death-dealing pellets faster than the speed of sound, and which could outrange your bows and arrows ten to one. But if you will give me a work room and materials and keep Arcee Lou away from me, I can devise magic which will overcome their magic and which will make their king the unquestioned master of this whole continent in spite of the roys and the formians. Then I shall seize one of the formian magic wagons, fly back in it to my own country and leave you in peaceful dominion over this continent. What do you say? I say, the their king replied, that you are an amusing fellow, and an able spinner of yarns, but you talk with evident earnestness and sincerity. Therefore I shall give you your workshop and your materials, but on one condition, namely that you entertain us likewise. I have spoken. And thus it came to pass that Judd the excuse-maker attached the earthmen to his personal retinue and placed a laboratory at his disposal upon the return arrival of the expedition at Burkingi. This city was built entirely of wood. It was surrounded by a high stockade and was divided by stockades into sections, each presided over by a noble, save only the central section which housed the retinue of himself. Within the sections each family had its own walled-off enclosure. All streets and alleys passed between high wooded walls, the buildings and fences were carved and gauntly colored. As the returning expedition approached the Great Wall they were met by blasts of trumpet music from the parapets. Then a huge gate opened and they passed inside. Here they quickly separated and each detachment, hastened to the quarter of the nobleman from whom they had been drawn, Judd and his detachment proceeded down many a high wall street until they came to a gate bearing the insignia of Judd himself. Inside there were more streets of the same character through which Judd's retinue dispersed to the gates of their own little enclosures until Judd and Myles' Cabot were left alone. The noble led his new acquisition to a gate. This enclosure is vacant, Judd explained. It will be yours. Enter and take possession. Within you will find a small house and a shop. Serving maids will be sent from my own household to make you comfortable. Prepare to my palace tonight and tell me some more stories. Meanwhile, goodbye for the present. And he strode off and disappeared around the bend in the street, Cabot passed in through the gate. He found a well from which he drew water to fill a carefully fashioned wooden pool. Scares had he finished bathing when a group of furry girls arrived from the house of his patron, bearing brooms and blankets and food. One of them also bore a note which read as follows. If you love me, you will find a way to reach me. Archie Lu. And if not, what? said Myles to himself. After he had rested and dined, and the place had been made thoroughly neat, all the girls withdrew, saved the one who had brought the note. She informed him that her name was Quiven, and that she had been ordered to remain in the enclosure as his servant. She was small in life. Her hair was a brilliant yellow-gold and her eyes were blue. If it had not been for her fur, she would have passed for a twin to his own lila. This fact brought an intense pang to him and caused such a wave of homesickness that he sat down on the couch and hid his face in his hands. But the pretty creature made no attempt to comfort him. Instead, she merely remarked half aloud to herself, I wonder what Archie Lu could possibly see in him. Even ought the terrible is much more handsome. Finally, Myles arose with more determination and courage than he had felt at any time since his return to Poros. Guided by Quiven, he set out with Judd's dwelling. Firmly resolved to take steps that very night, which would result eventually in his reaching Coupia and rescuing his family from the renegade Yuri. Judd's palace was elaborate and barbaric. Judd himself was seated on a divan surrounded by Virkingian beauties. They all were frankly inquisitive to see this hairless creature from another world, yet they rather turned up their pretty noses at him. When they found him dressed like a common soldier, Cabot regaled the gathering with an account of his first arrival on Poros, and of the two wars of liberation which had freed Coupia from the domination of the ants. All the while he was most eager to get down to business with the noble, yet he realized that he had been employed for a definite purpose, namely storytelling, and that his first duty was to please his patron. Finally, the ladies withdrew. In Miles' Cabot, the radio man began his first discussion of radio that he had undertaken since his return to Poros. End of Chapter 7 Recording by John Brandon