 CHAPTER XIII. PROGRESS. His change of tactics had worked, although it made him feel like a brute, but only by arousing Quiven's anger could he stir her to continue the journey, and to remain would have ministered safety in her health. She had a good head start of him. The silver sky was turning crimson in the west, night was coming on, so he hurried after her down the wet and slippery trail. Alas, it became so dark that he had to slow down and walk, and finally, merely grop his way, shoving his feet ahead, one after the other, in order to be sure to keep to the trail and not to stumble. Time and again, his foot would touch something soft, which he would picture as a some strange and weird porovovian animal. Agnoper, for example, quickly he would withdraw the foot, then waiting in suspense for the creature either to go away or to spring upon him. Alas, he would cautiously push his foot forward, touching the objects again, kick it slightly and find that it was only a clump of porovovian grass or a rotted piece of lichen log. Poor Quiven, how terrified she must be at such encounters. After a while, he got a bit used to these occurrences, and accordingly, each succeeded one of them delayed him less than the preceding. He knew he said to himself, this will keep on until finally one of these obstacles will actually turn out to be a noper, and they'll eat me alive before I can get out of the way. Just then, his groping foot touched another of these soft objects. Get out of my way, cabbage shouted, and gave it a kick, but this time it was not attached to the soil. It yielded and wriggled a bit, then it gave a peculiar groaning sound. Finally, backward and waited, but nothing happened. So he tried to circle the creature again, again the groan. His scientific curiosity finally got the better of his caution. He approached once more and investigated more closely. Reaching down with his hand, the animal was covered with wet and muddy fur. It was Quiven. Finally, he raised a crumpled form in his arms and groped down on the treacherous trail. Miles wondered how long he could bear up with the stead-weight in his arms, but just as he was beginning to stagger, the road gave him a turn and flattened out, and there before him were lights, the flares and bonfires of a city. They had reached the plain. Quiven, he cried joyfully, this is home, there a head lies vacuering, but she may know reply, her body was cold and still. Quickly he laid her on the ground and placed one ear to her chest. Thanks to great builder, her heart still beats. So he chaffed his hands and feet and worked her arms violently back and forth, until she began to groan protestantly. Quiven, he cried, wake up, we are home. Are you here, Miles? She murmured faintly. Yes. And you won't make me walk anymore? No. Then I'll wake up for you, she murmured cheerfully and probably fell fast asleep. Again, lifting her tenderly in his arms, he resumed the journey. On reaching the city, he circled the wall until he came to one of the gates, where he stood the girl on the ground and shook her gently into consciousness. Where am I? she asked at the gate of Eric King, Miles answered. She ran her hands rapidly over her mud cake fur. Oh, but I can't go in like this, you will. I'm covered with mud from head to foot. Think how I must look. No, I refuse to go in. Well, if you stay here, he urged mildly. Then when morning comes, everyone will see you. The princess Quiven, bedraggled with mud, hanging around outside the city gates by the far to go in now and take a chance at being seen by only one sentinel. Oh, you beast, you beast, she saw beating him cutely with her tiny paws. For a ply he seeds her in his arms, swung her across one hip, and shouted, open wide to gates of Eric King for Cabot to Minori and Magician, to judge the excuse-maker and to his excellency Theop the Grim. The gate swung open, and the sentinel stared at them with surprise and some amusement. Miles whooped out his sword, and the smile froze on the soldier's face. Thus do I teach men not to laugh at Miles' Cabot, the earth man growled. Remember that you have seen nothing. And then he handed the soldier the choice blade of God the silent. The soldier smiled again. I've seen nothing but a Roy, he said, whom I robbed of his sword and drove off into the darkness. Oh, he's a fine sword, and I will remember that I have seen nothing. Made the great builder bless Miles' Cabot, the Minorian. Cabot glanced at his burden, Quiven, the beautiful. No wonder she did not want to be seen. It always humiliates a lady not to look her best in public. But by the same token, no one could possibly recognize her. He might perfectly have well saved the sword. So he passed on through the city streets, finally had to put the girl down and ask her to help him find a way, which she did, grudgingly. At the gate of Judd's compound, Miles again swung her across his hip, before he demanded entrance. No shortage this time, for diplomacy would take the place of payment. Miles' Cabot demanding entrance, he cried. The local guard inspected him carefully by the light of his torch. It is Cabot all right, he replied. And you look as though he had seen some hard fighting. But who is this with you? A girl of the Roy's, answered Miles. That is what we were fighting about. Not for me, the soldier asserted grimacing. Oh, there is no accounting for taste. They are filthy little beasts, and spitfires as well. So I'm told. My advice to you, sir, is to throw her down a well. Quiven, wriggled protestingly. Perhaps I will, Miles laughed. At their own gate at last, he placed her once more on her feet. Where at? She shook herself free, raced into the house, slammed the door of her room. Cabot himself went right to bed, without waiting to wash or anything, and dropped instantly to sleep the moment he touched his pile of bedding. So intent was he on wasting no time and getting cupia on the air, that he was up early the next morning. He found his laboratory force, sadly demoralized, owing to the absence of Quiven and himself. But he quickly brought order out of chaos, and set the men to work on their first real construction job, to which all the other work had been mere preliminary steps. Quiven kept her her rooms. But one of the other maids roguishly informed him, the golden one said she hates you. Now that his fire bricks were ready, Miles' cabinet laid out on paper the plans for his smelting plant. All the units which were to be lined with fire bricks. First he designed a furnace for roasting his ore. This furnace was to be made in two sections, one above the other, the lower one holding the charcoal fire, and the upper one holding the ore. Later he planned to use the sulfur fumes of this roaster to make chauffeuric acid, which in turn he would use to make the salamoniac for his batteries. But at present he had not yet figured out the process in detail. The smelting furnace for smelting the roasted ore into copper matter was to consist of a chimney about two feet in diameter, sloping sharply outward for about two feet, and then sloping gradually inward again for a height of about ten feet. Near the bottom were to be a number of small holes leading from an air passage. This air passage and the vent for the hot flames from the top of the smelter were to run parallel pipes made of hollow brick tile. The two chambers containing a checker work design of fire brick, the two pipes were to be interchangeable, so when the exhaust had heated one of the checker work grids to red hot, the pipes could be switched, and the incoming air would be warmed by passing through the heat grid. From nuper hide and wood, he could easily construct bellows to pump in the air for the blast. The molten copper mat and slag would be separately ran off through two separate openings at different levels near the bottom of the blast furnace. To further refine the mat, he designed a Bessemer converter, that is to say a barrel-shaped box of layers of clay. The unilayer being very rich in quartz sand, this barrel, when filled with molten mat, would be laid on its side, and a hot blast introduced through holes near the side would convert the mat into pure copper in about two hours. The first converter which he made was rather small, as he expected it would not last very well without metal reinforcements, and of course he would have no metal for reinforcing purposes until after he had run off at least one heat. With the extraction of iron, he made crucibles of fire clay, which he set in deep holes on the ground. On the second morning, after the unpleasant homecoming, women appeared. All her rage had burned out and she was meek and subdued. With downcast eyes, she reported to Miles, I'm ready to go to work now. With a welcoming smile, he patted her golden furred shoulder, where at her old anger started to flare again, but this one remaining ember merely flickered and died out, and she submitted with a shrug of resignation. So the radio man explained to her his plans for the furnaces, then leaving her in charge of the work. He set out once more to the river the Thilver Sands, this time accompanied by a heavy guard of vicarian soldiers, and flying a blue flag, as agreed on with Prince Otto of the Royes. As he was departing, Kevin flung her arms around him and begged him not to go to certain destruction. But he gently disengaged himself, smiling indulgently at this show of childish affection. My dear little girl, he admonished. Most of our troubles last time came from your fatherly me. This time I warn you that I shall be very displeased if you fail to stick closely to home and complete my two magic furnaces for me. Promise me that you will. So with tears of dread in her blue eyes, she promised any expedition set forth. They were gone about five days. The trip proved uneventful from any except a scientific viewpoint. They returned, burying several pounds of silvery grains, blaster mined from the river Sands, and some large lumps of galena crystals and nearly a ton of zinc blend. They found that under the skilful direction of little Quiven, the furnaces were nearly complete. Quiven, the golden flame, was overjoyed at Cabot's safe return, while even he had to confess considerable relief. He complimented her warmly on the progress of the furnaces, and noticed her pleasure at it as expressions of approval. A few details which had perplexed her were quickly straightened out, and the work was rushed to completion. Next he tested the silver grains which he had brought from the river. His method was a very simple one invented by himself. It consisted of filling a clay cup with water and weighing it, then weighing a quantity of the metal, and then putting this metal in the water and weighing the whole. A simple mathematical calculation from these three weights gave him the specific gravity of the metal. This process would have repeated a number of times to avoid error, and Gabe is an average of a figure of 21.5, which he remembered to be the specific gravity of pure platinum. As a further test he hammered some of the supposed platinum into a thin sheet, and attempted, without success, to melt it. Then he laid a silver of one of his lead bullets on it, and tried again, with the result that the lead melted and burned a hole through the metal sheet. This test convinced him that he had truly had found platinum. Cabot next turned his sentence to glass making. For ordinary glass he would need quartz, silver, potash, and limestone. The reason for his employing both soda and potash, instead of merely one or the other, was that together they would have a lower fusing point, and thus be easier for him to handle with his crude equipment. For glass for his tubes he would use the lithridge in place of the limestone. The quartz and the limestone were already available. Soda would be a byproduct of the salamonic when he got around to making it. But this would not be until he had made sulfuric acid from his copper ore, which was the most complex process he remembered it. Potash could be got simply by dripping water through wood ashes, evaporating the water, roasting the sediment, dissolving it again in water, and then letting the impurity settle, and then evaporating the clear liquid and roasting it again. He started this process at once. But he had no idea how to make lithridge. Furthermore, he could not blow his glass until he made metal tubes, so he abandoned further steps for the present. While he was pondering over these problems, a messenger arrived, demanding his immediate presence, at the quarters of Judd, the excuse-maker. Judd was in a state of great excitement when the earthman arrived. Said Judd, Do you remember what you told me about the beast of the south, who swim through the air, talk down the speech, and use magic flinks like yours? Would you capture it from the roys near sir? Yes, Cabot replied. I hope by this time I have given sufficient demonstrations of my truthfulness so that you now believe the story. Oh, I believe that at the time, Judd hastily explained, but now I have proof of it, for we have captured one of these beasts, that is, we think it is one of them. I want you to see and identify it before we present it to Theop, the Grim. Thereby displaying commendable foresight, Miles commented, Where is this forming? In the cage of the zoo, the vicarine noble replied, Come, I will take you there. So together, two threaded streets of vicarine to the zoo. This was part of the city which the earthman had never before visited, as denizens fascinated him. There were huge water snakes with human-like hands. There were spherical beasts with rows of legs around the equator, a row of eyes around the trap of a cancer, and a circular mouth rimmed with teeth at the north pole. But at this point, Judd jured him into another room, where he promptly forgot all the other creatures in sight, which met his eyes. In a large wooden cage in the center of the room was an enraged ant man, knowing not to bar us. While a scorer or so of vicarine warriors stood around and prodded him with spears. Stop, Judd shouted at the soldiery, where they all fell back obediently. It was called the attention of the imprisoned beast of the newcomers. So he looked up and stared at them. Cabot stirred back. Then he rushed forward to the cage. End of Chapter 13, Recording by Kenneth Sargent Gagan Planet by Ralph Moon Farley Chapter 14, Old Friends Doggo, he cried. Doggo, they told me you were dead. But of course all this was lost on the radio speech sense of the prisoner. Baccarine soldiers interposed their spears between Miles Cabot and what they believed was short destruction. At the jaws of the black beast, Cabot recalled, Judd, he called out, order off your henchmen, I'm not crazy, nor do I court death. This creature is the only one of the four means who I can control. He will prove a valuable ally for us if we can persuade him to forgive the indignities which your men have already heaped upon him. I don't believe you, Judd replied. But how can men communicate with beasts, especially with strange speech such as this? Like to which a man never set eyes on before. Remember that I'm a magician, Miles returned somewhat testily. Then seeing that Judd was still obstinate, he addressed the guards, you know me, Mr. Magician? Yes, they sullenly admitted. And you know the magic of which I'm now engaged and to which all my recent expeditions relate? Yes, one replied. You seek to call down the lightnings of heaven and harness them to transport your words across the boiling seas. Brightly spoken, the radio man asserted, therefore, if you do not stand aside, I should call those lightnings down for another purpose, namely to blast you, stand aside. One of the guards spoke to another. Why should we risk our lives to save his? Let the magician save himself. So they stood aside. I, as Miles, stepped through the cage and he and Doggo each padded each other's cheeks through the bars. Judd, the excuse-maker sheepishly explained, I knew that he was speaking the truth, but I wanted to learn what method you were used to handle the soldiers. He did nobly. Bump, the earth man ejaculated. Oh, knowing that the vicarine would not understand him. What means that word, Judd inquired, much interested. That, Miles replied, grinning, is a complimenty term often applied on my own planet, the earth, to the remarks of our great leaders. Judd highly complimented. Let it go at that. Miles now ordered paper in a charcoal pencil and began a conversation with his ant friend. They told me you were a dead hero, or I never would have left the city of Urana or deserted your cause. My cause died with my daughter, the queen, Doggo replied. I'm a lone survivor. I escaped by plane and have been flitting around the country ever since until my alcohol gave out. Then these furry cupins captured me. They got me with a net so I could not fight back. Also, I was distant from my airship at the time, or I wouldn't have gone hard with them. For the ship is well-stocked with bombs and rifle cartridges and one rifle. Now tell me of yourself. How do you stand with these furry cupins? They're not cupins, Miles wrote. They are vacarines. I rage much like myself who send messages with their mouths and with their ears instead of using their antenna for both as the cupins and euformians do. Do you remember the old legend of cupia? That creature like me dwells beyond the boiling seas? Well, it appears to have been true, though how anyone could have known or even suspected it is a mystery to me. You've not told me how you stand, the Ant-Man reminded him. They recognize me as a great magician, Miles answered, and I have promised to build them a radio set and lead them to victory over the euformians. Just as you did for the cupins, dog home muse, but you will have a harder task here. For these furry creatures appear to know no medals nor any of the arts say wood carving. They patted each other's cheeks again. Then before anyone could interfere, Miles' cabinet unbolted the door of the cage and out walked Duggo, a free ant once more. The soldiers and Judd with him promptly scattered to the four walls of the room. Come over here, Judd Miles invited and meet my friend. That is, unless you are afraid. Oh, I do not fear him, Judd the excuse maker replied, but I do not consider it consistent with the dignity of my position to be seen fraternizing with a wild beast. It was typical, Miles laughed, and led the huge ant home with him to his quarters. Quiven was amazed, but not all frightened as a great black creature. And when an introduction had been affected on paper, she and Duggo developed quite a strong liking for each other. As soon as the four means have been fed and assigned to a room in the menage, some improvements over the manage array, by the way, his host and hostess took him on a tour of the inspection of their laboratory with a true scientific spirit. So characteristic of the culture but warlike race which once dominated Cupidia, Duggo plunged at once into the spirit of almost super provovian tasks which Miles had undertaken. And it soon became evident that a newcomer would prove to be an invaluable ascension. His scientific training would dovetail exactly with that of the earth man and which supplanted at every point. Almost at the start, he suggested a solution of the problems which had been puzzling Miles. Cabot's recollection of the process of sulfuric acid manufacture had been that it required a complicated roasting furs, two filtering towers, and a tunnel about 200 feet long made of lead and into which nitric acid fumes had to be injected. His recollection of nitric acid manufacture was that it required sulfuric acid among other ingredients. So how is he to make either acid without first having the other? And furthermore, where was he to procure enough lead to build the 200 foot tunnel? Duggo solved these problems very nicely by avoiding them. What do you need sulfuric acid for? He wrote merely to use in the making of hydrochloric acid, wrote the earth man in reply, and that to use in making salamoniac for my batteries. Do you need nitric acid for anything except the manufacture of sulfuric? No. Then Duggo suggested, let us make our salamoniac directly from its elements. We shall build a series of 20 vertical cast iron retorts. As soon as you have smothered your iron, the need we shall fill with damp salt pressed into box and dried. We shall heat the retorts with charcoal fires, and through them we shall pass then air and the sulfuric fumes of your ore roasting. After about 15 days, we shall daily cut out the first retort, dump out the soda which is formed in it, refill it and place it at the further end of the series. The liquid which condenses at the end of the series will be diluted hydrochloric acid. By passing the fumes of roasted animal refuse through it, we shall convert it into salamoniac solutions. Accordingly, the quicker they started their foundry operations, the better. By this time, shallow coprite quartz and charcoal were present in vicarin in large quantities. The ore was first roasted, and then was piled into the smelter with the quartz and charcoal. The airbells were started, first was inserted through the slack hole, and soon a raging pillar of flame served notice and all of vicarin, that the devil furnace of the great magician was in full blast. By this time it was night, but no one thought of stopping, of course. There were complications. The furry soldiers deserted the pumps at first, roar of green-tinged flame, but Doggle instantly stepped into the breach and operated all the bellows with his various legs. Finally, the warriors, unseen at miles and quiven, had survived the ordeal of fire, sheepishly returned to their post, and soon loudly boasting of their bravery and how their fellows would envy them on the morrow when they should relate their experiences. Long toward morning, Cabot drew his first heat of molten matter into a brick ladle, imported into the converter. It was an impressive sight, the shadow wooden walled encloser lit by wavering greenish flare on the pillar of fire, which metamorphosed the white skin of the man into that of a jaundice oriental. Tinge quiven with the green and golden, glinted off the shiny carapace of Doggle as off the facets of a bloodstone, and the darkness of the background toiled the workers at their pumps. Then there came a change of higher side down, the pumping ceased, oil lamps were lit, and the ghostly glare gave place to a faint but healthy light, although overall when the ominous silence of expectancy, the label was brought up, a hand-hold cover removed, and out flowed a crimson liquid, tinting all the eager surrounding faces with a sinister ruddiness. Again the red glare, as the ladle was poured into the barrel-shaped converter, then the pumps were started again and the blast from the converter replaced that of the furnace with its ghostly light. Two hours later the converter was tipped and pure molten copper was poured out into the ladle. Once more the sinister ruddiness. Quickly the molds were filled, the red light was gone, the spell was broken. Conversation was resumed. The first metal artery of the valkyrene was an accomplished fact. Then day came, and with it loud pounding on the gate, Cabot answered it carelessly and abstractly sliding back to boat before inquiring who was outside. The gate swung open with a bang, almost knocking miles into a flower bed, and in a rush of valkyrene youth with drawn sword and panting heavily, you beast, he cried lunging at the earthman as he spoke, but in his haste and anger he lunged too hard and too far. So the Cabot, although unarmed, was able to step under his guard and grasp him by the wrist. Before he recovered, quick as lightning, the boy's sword arm was bent up behind his back, slowly grimly. Cabot forced the imprisoned hand upward between the shoulder blades of his opponent. Until with it grown, the latter relinquished the sword, and it felt clattering to the ground. Smiling, Cabot stooped down and picked it up and forced the young intruder against the wall. Now, said the earthman, explain yourself, the boy faced miles like a cornered panther. It's quibbin, he snarled. You've stolen my quibbin. Nonsense, Miles explained. What do you mean? I am tippy to the steadfast, the youth replied. Long have I loved the gold flame, and you came to the city when you arrived. I was away on a military expedition. Winning distinctions to lay at the tiny feet of my fair one. Last night I returned to find her working at your laboratory. One or the other, you or I must die. Ah, you are absurd. In my country, tippy, you returned, looking the earthman straight in the eye. No common soldier is permitted to take manners to a gentleman. I repeat that quibbin. But at this point, Miles cuffed the young bikering over one ear, knocking him flat upon the walk. And as he scrambled sputtering to his feet, dealt him another blow, which sent him really into the street. Then Miles barred the gate and turned towards the house. Then the doorway stood quibbin, shaking with laughter. Miles was immediately embarrassed. He had known that his encounter had been observed. He hated to show off and was afraid that his actions had appeared very melodramatic. Isn't tippy silly? She asked. But he may make trouble with your father, Miles said, with a worried frown. Oh, I'm not afraid of father. But he will put an end to my experiments. So quibbin went to a chat with her father before young tippy could get there to stir up possible trouble. She returned later in the day to resume her work. But while she was gone, Cabot referred with Doggo. Why a billionaire's radio says the handman wrote, I do not ask you before in the presence of the lady, for I've held that perhaps you did not wish her to know your plans. Doggo, you show remarkable intuition, said Miles. It is true that I did not wish any of the vicarians to know my idea is to communicate with Cupia. Learn how Lila is getting along and encourage my supporters there to try and hold out until some way I can come secure a forming airship and return across the boiling seas. Then see your work, Doggo replied. For my plane in perfect condition, Miles carefully hid in the new wood, not a full day's journey from the city. Although we need his alcohol for the Trophil engines. End of Chapter 14, Recording by Kenneth Sergeant Gagan Please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Lyndon Godsell The Radio Planet By Ralph Milne Farley Plans for Escape We can make the alcohol in a few days in my laboratory, Cabot wrote. But it will not do for us to escape too precipitively lest our plans be discovered and blocked. The Verkings, like sleight of hand, and wish to keep me with them as their court magician. Let us bide our time until they become sufficiently accustomed to you so that they will not question your accompanying me on an expedition. Then way to the plane and off to Cupia. The ant man ascended. It seemed logical, and yet I wonder if this logic would not have done credit to Judd, the excuse maker. I wonder if Cabot was not subconsciously influenced by a scientific desire to complete his radio set in this land of people who used only wood and flint, I wonder. At all events, the work proceeded. He had planned to use the slag from the copper furnace as the ore for his iron, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that his high sulfur content would probably ruin any steel which he produced. Fortunately, however, he ran across a deposit of magnetic iron or near Verkin. This he ground and placed in his crucibles with charcoal, and they built charcoal fires in the pits around them. The slag he slammed off with copper later iron ladles. The melting had to be repeated many times in order to purify the iron sufficiently. And further in order to secure just the right carbon content for cast iron, steel or wrought iron according to which he needed for any particular purpose. This securing the proper carbon content was largely a matter of cut and try. With iron and steel available, he now made pots, retorts, hammers, anvils, drills, wire drawings, dyes, and the decent Besamer converter. Copper tubes for glassblowing and copper wire were drawn. A simple wooden lathe was made for winding thread around the wires. This thread, by the way, was the only Verkin yin product which the earthmen found ready to his hand. As soon as the iron retorts were available, the joint manufacture of cell, ammononiac, and soda was started, as already outlined by Dogo. In iron pots, Cabo melted together finely ground white sand with lime, soda, and potash and blew the resulting glass into bottles, retorts, test tubes, and other laboratory apparatus, also jars, for his electric batteries. He used both soda and potash, as this would render the glass more fusible than if made with either alone. Lead was melted from Galena crystal in small quantities for solder, thus was suggested to Dogo. The manufacture on the side of bullets, gunpowder, and cartridges, for the rifle which Miles had in his quarters, and for the one which lay in the concealed airplane. Tales of the copper smelt in its spread among the populace, who invents such great interest that double guards had to be placed, and maintained about laboratory enclosure. And every return in military expedition brought with it samples of unusual minerals. Meanwhile, Cabo instituted a regular campaign of getting Verkin yig accustomed to Dogo, every day Dogo would parade the high walled streets, with Quiven the golden flame perched upon his back, the ten foot ant inspired great interest and the considerable fear. She enjoyed her rides thoroughly, not only for the novelty of the thing, but also because her seat on his six foot high, back brought her head above the level of the fence parlings, and thus enabled her to survey the private yards of everyone. Tippi had not been seen or heard from. Arkylu, the beautiful thoroughly made up with the earth man, and even admitted that her love for him had been a mistake. Plans for her wedding with Judd proceeded rapidly. When this coming marriage was publicly announced, At the terrible scent in a royal runner, with the message that he didn't in the least care. Quiven now lived in the palace, so as to be near her father, but came to work regularly each day. Theof, the Grimm, interposed no objection to this, and in fact frequently accompanied his daughter to the laboratory. He loved to mess around the bottles and retorts, and lost much of the grimness when he engaged in this childless middlesomeness. So everyone was happy except Tippi, the steadfast and at the terrible. Judd continued the operation of the brickyard, even though Cabo had no more need of bricks, for Judd planned to build himself a brick palace which would outshine even the palace of King Theof. Melting the platinum for the wires presented a problem, until Miles thought of electrolyzing some ordinary water into its constituent hydrogen and oxygen, and then burning these two materials together in a double blowpipe, much like that used in oxyacetylene welding. But to do this he had to make batteries. To this end he already had cell, ammonic, and jars. He needed carbon and zinc, for carbon he pressed charcoal into compact blocks, to extract zinc from the blend, or he made long, syndrical retorts of clay, with a long clay pipe for a vent. The ore, after being thoroughly roasted in the copper roasting furnace to remove all sulfur, was ground, mixed with half its weight of powdered charcoal, and then charged into the retorts where it was baked. The result was to distill the pure zinc which condensed on the walls of the tubes. Cabot now at least had all the elements for the batteries, and so was able to employ about subvent cells in multitude, to get the two-volt 350 amperes necessarily to actualize the oxygen and hydrogen for melting his platinum. The platinum proved to be quite free of iridium, and so was easily drawn into wires. Needless to state, the distilling of alcohol in large quantities ostensibly for the laboratory burners, but actually for Dogo's airplane, was commenced as soon as they had blown their first glassed retorts. Miles was going strong. One day in the midst of all the technical progress, as Miles was passing through one of the streets of Varikinghi on some errand or other, and admiring the quaint and brightly colored wood carvings on the high walls which lined the way, his attention was arrested by the design over one of the gateways. It was a crimson swastika with a crimson triangle, the insignia of the priests of the lost religion of Kupia, the priests who had befriended him in their hidden refuge of the caves of Kaab when he was a fugitive during the dark days of his second war against the ant men. Could it be that the lost region was also implanted upon this continent? Miles had never discussed religion, an arky or judge or quiven or criota or any of his verkin friends. Somehow the subject had never come up, full of curiosity, Kaabo knocked in the door. Immediately a small aperture opened and a voice from within inquired. Whence come you? For reply the earth man gave one of the passwords of the Kupian religion to his surprise. The gate swung open and he was admitted into the presence of a long robed priest, clad exactly like his friends of the caves of Kaab. What do you wish? asked the guardian of the gate, having made his way so far. Miles decided to continue on the analogy of the religion of his own continent. Accordingly he boldly replied, I wish to speak with the holy leader. Very well said the guard and closing the gates and barring it. He led miles through many winding passages to a door on which he knocked three times. The knock was repeated from within. The door opened and Miles entered to gaze upon a strangely familiar scene. The room was richly carved and coloured. On three sides hung the stone lamps of the beddakings. Around the wall sat a score of more of long roam priests, some on the level and some on slightly raised platforms. On the highest platform of all, directly opposite the point where Kaab out had entered sat the only hooded figure in the chamber, quite evidently the leader of the faith. Him the earth man approached and bowed low. Where at there came the unexpected words, welcome to Variginghi, Miles Kaabot. Then the priest descended, took the visitor by the hand and led him to a seat at his own left. A few minutes later the assembly had been temporarily suspended and Miles and his host were chatting together like old friends. Miles told the venerable Prillat the complete history of all the adventures on both continents of the planet Poros, not omitting to dwell with considerable detail upon the vicissitudes of the lost religion of Kopia. This interested the priest greatly and he asked numerous questions in that connection. Strange, strange he remunated. It is undoubtedly the same religion as ours, so they must at some point have been some connection between the two continents. Yes, there must have been, the earth man ascended. For the written language of both Kopia and Variginghi is the same, yet the total different flora and fauna of the two continents negates this history. Where did Kaabicius originate, if you know, the priest inquired? We do not know, Miles replied, but there are two conflicting legends. One is that the forerunners of the race came from across the boiling seas. The other is that they sprang, fully formed from the soil. There is also a legend that creatures like me dwell beyond the boiling sea, and this legend at least appears to be born out of the existence of your Varikings. Strange, still more strange the Prillat declared. For we have but one story of our origin, the race of Varikings descended from another world above the skies. Who knows, but that we, like you, came from that place you call the planet? Minos, I think you said. After some further conversation, the conclave was called to order again, and Miles took this as the signal for his departure. He was given a warm invitation to return. Truly a newer avenue of speculation had been opened up to him by his chance meeting with the Holy Leader. Miles firmly resolved to return again at the earliest opportunity, but from this time on events moved with such rapidity that never again did he enter the sacred precincts. First he was stumped by his radio tubes. How was he to make a vacuum pump, which would exhaust the air? The solution when he finally occurred to him was absurdly simple, utilised atmospheric pressure. He made a glass tube thirty feet long and sealed his grid, his plates and his lead wires into one end, closing that end off hermetically, then he fashioned a piston of waterproof cloth fiber so as to fit into the closed end, almost touching these elements, and yet free to move away from them without tearing them. Then he filled the tube with water and inverted it, but the water did not drop away to a height of about twenty-eight feet, as it would have done on earth. Of course not, for this was Venus. Venus of an atmospheric pressure, particularly equal to that of earth, holding the water up, and yet with gravity much less than that of earth tending to pull the water down. But by lengthening in the pipe sufficiently, Cabo finally got the proper balance, the fiber piston was pulling down, and a practical vacuum practically free of water vapor had been created. He then sealed off the upper portion of the glass tube with his blowtorch and he had his radio triad. For these radio tubes the glass was made accordingly to a special formula of this same glass, Cabo fashioned lenses for the goggles which he and Dogo plan to wear on their trip home across the boiling seas. One of the constituents of this special glass is lead monoscope, and commonly known as lithrages. This gave the radio man some concern until Dogo suggested melting lead into a rotating syndrical iron drum with spiral rips. By pumping cold air in one end of his drum fine particles of lithrages were driven out through the other, where the accompanied in a stationary container. About this time the king and Judd began clamouring for results, so Cabo made a few electric lights with platinum filaments. And entirely apart from pacifying his two patrons, it was well that he did this, for the speedy burning out of these lights showed him that he had a new problem to face, namely the elimination of all traces of oxygen in his tubes. He got rid of considerable by placing tubes in the strong magnetic field while exhausting, but this was not quite enough. It looked as though his experiments would have to end at this point, for with an immense quantity of alcohol completed and with Pyrex glass for their goggles, everything was all set for the conspirates to locate Dogo's hidden plane and fly across the boiling seas to Cupia. The Verikings were by now sufficiently used to the huge ant man and his participation in Cabo's scientific experiments. So not no objection would be raised to his accompanying the radio man on one of the latter's expeditions in search of certain minerals which he believed could be found in the country. Two carts were laden with tents, food and bedding were taken along and beneath these supplies he placed the alcohol and goggles. There was no need to conceal them, for none of the Verikings except Quiven ever had any distinct knowledge of what he was about and to her he explained that the alcohol was the purpose of loosening certain materials from the solid rocks and that the goggles were to protect his and Dogo's eyes from the fumes. A squad of soldiers pulled the carts, Dogo had demurred at this suggesting that the soldiers be left behind, an offering to pull them himself, but Miles pointed out how easily he could scatter the Verikings when the time came by threatening him with the magic slingshot, i.e. the rifle. Early in the morning they set forth, just as the unseen rising sun began to tint the eastern sky with purple. When the time came to say farewell to Quiven, Miles found to his surprise that his voice was positively choked with emotion. Goodbye, goodbye flame, he said, please wish me a safe journey. Of course I do, she said, but why so sad you sound though you never expected to see me again? One never can tell, he replied. Your food had disagreed with you, she banded. I feel confident that you will return, for have you not often quoted to me, they cannot kill a Minerion. Run along and come back safely. Thus he left her, a smile on his face and a tear in his eye. He hated to deceive Quiven, who had been a good little pal, in spite of her occasional fairps of temper. He looked and waved to her, where she stood like a golden statue upon the city wall. It would be his last glimpse of a true friend. Then he set his face residently to the east wood. Not only did he feel a pang at leaving Quiven, but he felt even more of a pang at leaving his radio set half finished. The scientist always predominated his makeup, and besides, like the good workman that he was, he hated an unfinished job. But he realized that his radio project had been only a means to an end, the end being to get in touch with his friends and family in Coupier, and that his end was about to be accomplished more directly. Just think, tomorrow night, he would be home, ready to do battle for his loved ones against the usurper Yuri. The thought thrilled him, and all regrets passed away. Lilia! He was to see his beautiful, dainty Lilia once more, and his baby son, Q, rightful ruler of Coupier. He resolved that, once back with them, he would never more leave them. Lilia had been right. His return to her had been a foolhardly venture. Results had proved it. As Popluff, the Coupian philosopher, used to say, the test of a plan is how it works out. Cabo was eager, even impatient, to see the ant pace, which was to carry him home. He was bubbling over with questions to ask his ant man companion, the condition of the plane, its exact location, how well it had been concealed, and so forth. But his only means of communication with Dogo was writing, and it would never do to delay the expedition for the purpose of indulging in a written conversation. So he merely fretted and fumed, and urged the Verkin pullers of the cart to greater speed. But, along toward evening, a calm settled over him, a joyous calm. He was going home, going home. The words sang in his ears. He was going to Coupier to baby Q and Princess Lilia. A nervous warm flooded through his being, and tingled at his fingertips he felt the strength to overcome any obstacles, which might confront him. He was going home. Just before sunset, the party encamped on the outskirts of a small grove of trees, which Dogo indicated as the hiding place of his plane and other supplies. It had already been agreed that they should not inspect the machine before morning, for they did not wish to give even the slow brains of Verkin soldiers a chance to figure out their ulterior purpose, and perhaps to dispatch a runner to Verkingi with a warning to Theo and Judd. So Miles was forced to possess his soul in patience, and await the dawn, to keep his mind off his troubles. He sat with the fury warriors about their campfire, and told them tales of Coupier and the planet Earth. Never before in their experience had this strange, furlough leader of theirs been so graciously condescending or so sociable. It was an evening which they would long remember. Finally they all turned in for the night. The earthmen slept fitfully, and dreamed of encounters in which with his back to the wall he fought with a wooden sword, alone against Prince Yuri, and Ant-Man, and Verkin's, and Coupier's, and whistling bees in defence of Lya and her son. Yet such is the strange alchemy of dreams that sometimes Lilia's face seemed to be covered with golden fur. With a first red flush of morning, Cabo and Dogo bestirred themselves and informed their campmates that they intended to do a bit of prospecting before breakfast. Then they set out into the interior of the wood, the Ant-Man leading the way. At least they came to a small cleaning, and beyond it's a thicket which Dogo indicated with a one pour as being the spot which they sought. There was the plain. Parting the foliage they looked inside, but the thickest was empty. On the farther side the bushes had been recently chopped down, and thence there lay a wide swath of cut trees clear out of the woods. It was only too evident that the precious plain had been stolen. Chapter 16 After Thoughts There could be no doubt of it. Dogo's plain was gone, and with it had vanished all hopes of a speedy return to Cupia. Sadly the two returned to camp and gave directions to start back to Verkingi. But Miles' Cabot was not a man to despair, or he would have yielded to fate many times in the past during his radio adventures on the silver planet. Already, as the porters were loading the carts, his agile mind was busy seeking some way whereby to snatch victory from defeat. So when the expedition was ready to start, he led it around the woods until he picked up the trail of the stolen airship. Quite evidently the theft had not been made by ant men, for they would have flown the machine away upon clearing the woods. No, it had obviously been taken by either Royus or Verking's, who had wheeled or dragged it away. If he and Dogo could follow its path, they might yet be able to locate and recover the stolen property. The trail led north until it struck at right angles, a broad and much-rutted road, which ran from Verkingi to the northeast territory of the Verkings. And at this point the trail completely vanished. Miles held a written conference with Dogo, at which it was decided to return at once to the city and make inquiries there as to the stolen plane. If no one there knew of it, Dogo was to be dispatched on a new expedition into the northeast territory, and in the meantime Cabot was to rush the completion of his radio set. So they turned to the left and took up the march to Verkingi. It was a tired and disgusted human who returned that evening to the quarters which he had never expected to set eyes on again. Miles Cabot gave himself up to a few moments of unrestrained grief. As he sat thus, a soft, sympathetic voice said, didn't you succeed in finding that which you sought? I am so sorry, at least you came back safely to me. But the blandishments of little Quiven, his pal, failed to comfort him. That evening, when Judd returned from the brickyard, Miles sought an audience with him and demanded news of the plane. Said Miles, this beast friend of mine came near here in a magic wagon which travels through the air. Possession of this magic wagon would mean much to Verkingi in your wars, and especially if the beast ever take it into their heads to attack you, as they undoubtedly will do sooner or later. Yesterday Dogo and I embarked on a secret expedition to bring this magic wagon as a surprise to you and Theof. But we find that it has been stolen. We have traced it to the northeast road, and there the trail ends. It must be either in this city or in the northeast territory. Will you help me to find it? But Judd smiled a crafty smile and said, It is not in Verkingi. Of that I am certain. Nor will I send into the northeast territory to find it for you. For I well know that you would use it to return to your own land beyond the boiling seas. We wish you to stay with us and do wonders for us. We believe that we can make your lot among us a happy one. But remember that, although you are treated with great honors, you are nevertheless still my slave. Any attempt on your part to locate the magic wagon will be met with severe punishment, and an end will be put to your experiments. I have spoken. Miles Cabot met the other's eye squarely. You have spoken, Judd, he said. Miles was now convinced that Judd knew more about the missing plane than he was willing to admit. So the only thing to do was to lie low, bite his time, keep an ear out for news about the plane, and continue the manufacture of the radio set. Thus the earth man ruminated as he walked slowly back to his quarters. And then the linking of radio and airplanes in his mind gave him an idea. He had felt all along that he was doing the correct thing in building a radio set rather than in manufacturing firearms with which to attack the Formians, or in trying to fabricate an airplane for a flight across the boiling seas. His intuition had been correct. His subconscious mind must have guided him to make the radio in order to phone Copia for a plane to come over to a fair Kingi and get him. Why hadn't he realized this before? It gave him new heart. With a laugh he reflected that this afterthought was pretty much like those so characteristic of the man whom he had just left. Judd the excuse-maker, always bungling and always with a perfectly good excuse or alibi, thought up afterward to explain why he did something which, when he did it, was absolutely pointless. Miles had always looked down on the very King Noble because of this failing. But now what he found himself going through exactly the same mental processes, he began to wonder if perhaps Judd were not guided by a fairly high-grade intuition. Perhaps Judd's afterthoughts and excuses were but the breaking through of a realization of some real forethoughts on the part of Judd's subconscious mind. Miles wondered. He was still wondering when he fell asleep that night. The next morning he plunged into his work with renewed vigor. He now had copper wire, copper plates, wood, mica, solder, platinum, glass, and batteries, everything that he needed for his radio set except a better vacuum for his tubes. But without that he was as far from success as when he started. Of course he knew what he needed, magnesium. But it was one thing to step into a drugstore on the earth or into a chemical laboratory in Cupia and take magnesium off the shelves, and quite another matter to pick this elusive element out of thin air in Verkinghi. Nevertheless, in spite of this lack, Miles kept on working. He found his inductances, transformers, earphones, and rheostats. He assembled his variable condensers and microphones. He fashioned his sockets and lamp bases. He strung his antennae. He wired up his baseboard and panel. Small sets were installed in Quiven's rooms at the palace, at Judd's house, and at the brickyard. Each of these was equipped with a transformer coupling for Dago's antennae, as well as with mouthpieces for the others, so that now, at last, oral conversation was possible with his Formian friend. Later he would prepare a portable headset such as he had worn in Cupia. Laboratory experiments demonstrated the success of his sets in everything except durability of tubes. Yet, in spite of this drawback, he was able to communicate across his laboratory and even with Judd's house, and under favorable conditions with Quiven at the palace by using a cold-tube hookup. But this was not powerful enough to send as far as the brickyard, let alone Cupia. At this juncture there appeared one morning at his gate a Verking soldier in leather tunic and helmet, requesting entrance with important secret news. Miles grudgingly left his workbench and gave audience. The fellow had a strangely familiar appearance and smiled in a quizzical manner, yet Miles could not place him. Who are you? Miles asked. Do you not know me? The other asked in reply. No. The soldier doved his leather cap. Do you know me now? No. A life for a life? Now I know you, Cabot exclaimed. You are Otto the Bold, son of Grodd the Silent, who is king of the Royas. To paraphrase one of the proverbs of my own country, a face that is familiar in Serr is often a stranger in Verkingi. I did not recognize you away from the surroundings in which we met. What good fortune brings you here? Not good fortune, but bad, the Roy replied. It is true that Grodd my father is our king, but it is also true that at the terrible likewise claims the kingship. At loves our Kielu, and is even at this moment on the march against Verkingi with the largest army of Royas ever gathered. Miles smiled. We are grateful for the information, he said. With this forewarning we are secure against attack. If you will pardon me, Otto continued, I think that you are not secure. For one of your own Verkings, Tipi by name, marches with At. At has promised Tipi the glorious golden quiven in return for Tipi's support, and Tipi has many partisans within this city. Miles continued to smile. We can deal with traitors, he asserted smugly, there are many lampposts in our city. But Otto kept on. Serr has fallen. What! the earthman shouted, at last shocked out of his complacency. The rock-bound impregnable fortress of Serr fallen? Impossible! Not impossible to those who travel through the skies and drop black stones which fly to pieces with a loud noise, Otto calmly replied. The beasts of the south have made alliance with At the terrible, and Tipi the steadfast, and are marching with them. Good builder, they are upon us even now! Quick, the beasts enter this very room! Come, draw, defend yourself! Wheeling quickly, Cabot confronted Dago standing in the doorway. Much relieved, he explained to Otto who this newcomer was. Then, seizing a pad and a lead stylus of his own manufacture, he hurriedly sketched the situation to his foremean friend. In reply, Dago wrote, At last I have magnesium ore, some soldiers brought it in, attracted by its pretty red color. There is no time to be lost. To the laboratory. You must complete our set and summon aid from Capia. Meanwhile, I will get Judd on the air and call him here for a conference. We have no time to wait upon him, or even Theoph in this emergency. Miles read the message aloud to Otto. It is well, the latter commented. Now, if you will excuse me, I must be running along. My disguise as a verking soldier will get me safely out of your city, and I must join my father, who is planning to counter-attack if a fit opportunity presents itself. Till we meet again. Till we meet again, in this life or beyond the waves, the earthman replied. And may the builder bless you for your help this day. Then he rushed to the laboratory. Dago was already tuning the set. Judd is not at home, he wrote. Shall I waste a tube on the brickyard? No, Miles signified with the shake of his head. Then, seizing the pad and stylus again, he wrote, I will try and get Judd. You, meanwhile, attempt to extract magnesium from this piece of carnalite. The ant-man knew exactly how to proceed. Grinding the ore, he mixed it with salt and melted the mass in an iron pot, which he connected electrically with the carbon terminal of a line of electric batteries. In the boiling pot, he placed a copper plate connected with the zinc elements of his cells. By the time the earthman returned from calling Judd on the radio, a coating of pure magnesium had begun to form on the copper anode. An hour or so later, he scraped off his first yield of the precious metal, the final necessity of his projected radio set. At this stage Judd appeared. Pardon the delay, he started to explain. You see, I, but Miles cut him short with, never mind explanations now. It is enough that you are here. Sir has fallen. The beasts of the south and at the terrible are on the warpath. They seek to rob you of your archelu. With their aerial wagons they will drop magic rocks upon the city and destroy it. Give Dago back his plane, and he will try to combat them. But Judd shook his head. You would merely escape, he replied, and then we would be worse off than now. Then you admit that you know the whereabouts of Dago's plane? Miles eagerly asked. Not at all, not at all! The verking swabbly replied. I was merely stating that, even if I knew where this plane, as you call it, is. For builder's sake, man, Cabot cut in, this is no time to quibble over words. Give us the plane, if you would save Theof, yourself, and archelu. It's hardly necessary, Judd asserted, unruffled. Don't get so excited. If At wants archelu, he certainly won't drop things on the palace. And we can defend the palace against all the Royus in verkingi. But not against magic slingshots, replied the earthman. Perhaps not, the noble said with a crafty smile. But we shall see. Now I go to prepare the defence. You are at liberty to come with us, if you will, or putter around in your tubes if you had rather. Good-bye. Shift for yourselves, then! Miles shouted after him and frantically resumed his work. His attempt to get the plane by stratagem had failed. Perhaps Judd did not know anything about the plane after all. It would be typical of him. Miles had plenty of sets of grids, plates, and filaments all prepared. Also plenty of long tubes of Pyrex glass. All that remained necessary was to coat the platinum elements with magnesium, fuse them into the tube, exhaust the air by the water method as before, seal the tube, and his radio set would be complete. Where is Quiven, he wrote to Dogo. She ought to be here helping with this. On her way from the palace, the ant-man replied, I radio phoned her there. Presently she entered, and jauntily inquired what all the excitement was about. Miles explained as briefly as possible. Her only answer was to shrug her golden shoulders and remark, Tippi is a little fool. He can have me if he can get me. She then took her seat at the workbench. After a while she inquired, Why the rush with the radio set when Verkingi is in peril? Miles replied, Our only hope now is to get Cupia on the air and persuade my followers there to send across the boiling seas enough aerial wagons to defeat the Beats of the South, or Formians as we call them. And will you talk with your lila? she asked innocently. Yes, if the builder wills, he eagerly and reverently replied. To his surprise Quiven jumped to her feet with flashing eyes and seizing a small iron anvil from the workbench, she held it over the precious pile of platinum elements. And if I drop this anvil, you will not talk to her, is that not so? Miles horrified, sat rooted to his seat, unable to move. End of Chapter 16 Chapter 17 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 Millley Farley Chapter 17 The Battle for Verkingi But the flaming Quiven did not drop the anvil on the precious tube elements. Instead she flung it from her to the floor and sank limply into her seat, her golden head on her arms on the workbench. I couldn't do it, she moaned between sobs. For I too know what it is to love. Talk to her, Miles, and I will help you. He gasped with relief. You wouldn't spoil all our days and days of labor, I am sure, he said. What is the matter? I don't understand you. You wouldn't, was her reply, as she shook herself together, and resumed work. After a while one of the soldiers attached to the laboratory brought in word that the roys and formians were attacking the walls, and that planes were sailing around in the sky over head. Cabot gave word to mass his men to defend the laboratory at all costs, and went on working. One by one the tubes were completed and tested. From time to time Quiven would step into the yard, glance at the sky, and then report back to Miles. The formian planes were scouting low, but were not dropping bombs. Judd had apparently been right in one thing, that the beasts would not risk entering the expected prizes of war, namely Archie, Lou, and Quiven. From time to time runners brought word of the fighting at the outer wall of the city. It would have been an easy matter for the ant men to bomb the gates, and thus let in their roy allies, but evidently they were playing safe even there. At last, however, word came that traitors, presumably friends of Chippy, had opened one of the gates, and that the enemy was now within the city. Still Miles works steadily on. Suddenly Quiven returned from one of her scouting trips in the yard with a cry. One of the air wagons has seen me and is coming down. At that the radio man permitted himself to leave his bench for a few moments, and go to the door. True the plane was hovering down, eagerly awaited by a score or so of Cabot's fair king soldiers armed with swords, spears, and bows. As the formians came within bowshot they were met with a shower of arrows, most of which, however, glanced harmlessly off the metallic bottom of the fuselage. The ant men at once retaliated with a shower of bullets. Two fair kings dropped the ground, and the others frantically rushed to cover within the buildings, forcing back Miles and his two companions, as the fugitives crowded through the door. Where is your magic slingshot? One of them taunted him as they swept by. The earth man shook himself and passed the back of one hand across his tired brow, then hurried to his living room. Seizing his rifle he cautiously approached one of the slit windows which overlooked the yard and peeked out. The plane was on the ground. Four ants were disembarking. Here at last was a chance to secure transportation. Miles opened fire. The formians were taken completely by surprise. Oh how it did Cabot's heart good to see those ancient enemies drop and squirm as he pumped lead into them. They made no attempt to return his fire, but scuttled toward their beached plane. Only one of them reached it, but one was enough to deprive the earth man of his booty. Up shot the craft, followed by a parting bullet from Miles. Then he proceeded to the yard once more. His furry soldiers, brave now that all danger was over, were already there before him, putting an end to the three wounded ant men with swords and spears. A strong and pungent odor filled the air. Miles sniffed. It was alcohol in large quantities. The plane could not last long, for he had punctured its fuel tank. Each of the dead enemies had been fully armed, so that although Miles failed in his plan to secure the airship, the encounter had at least netted him three rifles and three bandoliers of cartridges. These he bestowed on Dogo, Weven, and the captain of his guards, saying you three, with four or five others, had better go at once to Judd's compound, before the fighting reaches here, for now that the formients have located Weven, they are sure to attack again, sooner or later. But the golden furred princess remonstrated with him. Let us stay together, fight together, and if need be, die together. For the builders' sake, run along, he replied testily. We are wasting valuable time. I will join you if the fighting gets too thick hereabouts. But how can you? By the back way which you taught me. But you need the help of Dogo and myself. No longer, for the set is complete. All that remains to be done is to tune in and either get Kupia on the air or not. Now, as you are my true friends, please run along. So with a shrug and a pout, she left him. And with her went Dogo and the captain and five of the guard. Much relieved, the radio man returned to his workbench, although the move truly was wise for the safety of Weven. The real motive which actuated Miles was a desire to have her absent, when and if he should talk to his Lilla. He leaned his rifle against the bench, hung the bandolier handily nearby, and set to work. A few more connections, and his hookup was complete. He surveyed the assembled set with a great deal of satisfaction, for although it really was a means to an end, yet it was a considerable end in itself after all, as any radio fan can appreciate. Once more, Miles Standish Cabot, electrical engineer, had demonstrated his premiership on two worlds. He had made a complete radio set out of basic natural elements, without the assistance of a single previously fabricated tool or material. It was an unbelievable feat, yet it had been completed successfully. With trembling hands he adjusted the controls and listened. Gradually he tuned in a station. It seemed a nearby station. A voice was saying, We could not report before, O Master, for we have only just repaired the set, which this Cabot wrecked. The Minorean lied when he told you that he had affairs well in hand, for even at that moment he was a fugitive. He is now with the furry cupians who live to the north of New Formia. Today our forces are attacking their city. It is only a matter of a few paths, before he will be in our hands. I have spoken, and shall now stand by to receive. This was the supreme test. Could Miles Cabot hear the reply? Adjusting his set to the extreme limit of its sensitivity, he waited, his hands on the wavelength dials. Faintly, but distinctly, came the answer in the well-known voice of Yuri the Usurperer. You have done well. Now I will hand the antenaphone to the Princess Lilla, and I wish you to repeat to her what you have just told me, so that she may hear it with her own antennae and believe. A pause. And then Cabot heard the ant-man stationed at the shack on the mountains near Yoriana recount the tale of Doggo's aborter of revolution and flight, of Cabot's wrecking the radio set and disappearing, of the Formian alliance with Ott the Terrible, of the Fall of Sur, and of the attack on Verkingi, ending with the words which he had already caught. As he listened to this narration, the earth-man was rapidly making up his mind what to do, and as soon as the ant-man signed off, Cabot cut in with, Lilla, dearest, do not show any sign of surprise, but listen intently, as though the Formian were still speaking. This is your own miles. I am sending from a station which I have only just completed after many sancts of intensive work. It is true that the Formians are now attacking our city, but they cannot win. Sir fell because we were taken by surprise, but we were warned in time to defend Verkingi. Already I myself have driven off one plane and killed three Formians. As yet I have been unable to secure an airship, or I should have flown back to you. Please get in touch with Toren, or some other of my friends, and persuade them to fly across the boiling seas and bring me back. Yuri has made it twice, and what man has done, that man can do. Now I am about to finish. When I sign off, please request Yuri for permission to talk to the Formian at Uriana, to ask him some questions. Then tell me as much as you can of yourself, our baby, and the situation in Kupia, before Yuri shuts you off. I have spoken, dearest, and Miles stood by to receive. With what a thrill did he hear his own Lilla's voice answer. Oh, Formian, I have Prince Yuri's permission to speak to you. You may answer what I ask you, and reply to what I tell you. But he himself will receive, lest I hear something which I ought not. This leads me to believe that affairs are not so bad with Cabot as you report. She is doing fine. Miles remarked to himself admiringly. So far Yuri will not suspect that she is talking to me. Lilla's voice continued. You and the other Formians may be interested to know that Prince Yuri is in complete control here. Baby Q and I are well, and are being respectfully treated by Prince Yuri as his guests in the palace at Kuvana. He has promised me that if I will marry him, Q can have the succession after his death. And this I might have accepted for the baby's sake, but now that I know that you are still alive, this cannot be. She has made a slip. Cabot moaned. Evidently she realized it herself for her voice hurried on. You see the whistling bees? Then Yuri's voice cut in abruptly. With congratulations, Cabot. I don't see how you did it. Your ex-wife would have gotten across a lot more information to you if she hadn't inadvertently let me know to whom she was talking by her careless use of the word you. I don't know what you said to her, but I shall be on my guard, no more radial for the Princess Lilla, until my henchmen in new Formia report your death, which I hope will be soon. Goodbye, you cursed spot of sunshine. Yuri, King of Kupia, signing off for the night. So that was that. Miles switched off the set, and Satsa merged in thought. Lilla and his baby were safe. He doubted not that she would sooner or later find means to send him a plane. He had given Yuri cause to doubt the glorious story told by the Formian radio operator. The new set had fulfilled its mission. But how had Yuri succeeded in climbing into power again in Kupia? Nine-tenths of the inhabitants of which were loyal to Princess Lilla and the baby king. Then Miles remembered her closing words. The whistling bees. It was as little Jacqueline Farley had prophesied on her father's New England farm during Cabot's brief revisit to the earth. Cabot had stated there can be no peace on any continent which is inhabited by more than one race of intelligent beings. Where at little Jacqueline had pointed out that the whistling bees were intelligent beings. Joutless Yuri had stirred up trouble between the bees and the Kupian allies and had ridden to the throne on the crest of this trouble. Poor Therys, king of the bees, had undoubtedly been deposed, for he was too loyal to Miles to stand for this. The earth man's reverberate was rudely interrupted at this point by one of his soldiers who rushed into the laboratory shouting, Sir, there is fighting in your very yard. Cabot slipped the bandolier over his shoulders, adjusted the straps, picked up his rifle and hurried to the door. In the yard his guards were struggling in hand-to-hand combat with a superior force of Roy's. He could tell them apart, not only by the contrasts between the fine features of his own men and ape-like faces of the intruders, but more easily by the contrasts between the leather tunics of the Verkings and the nakedness of the Roy's. So standing calmly in the doorway, Miles began picking off the enemy one by one with his rifle. It was too easy, almost like trap shooting, but it didn't last long, for the Roy's soon learned what was up and breaking away from their opponents, crowded out through the gate, followed by a shower of missiles and maledictions. Cabot's Verkings were for following, but their master peremptorily called them back and directed them to barricade the laboratory. It was well that he did so, for presently the heads of the enemy began to appear above the top of the fence. Evidently, they had built a platform in the street. Soon arrows and pebbles began to fly at the windows of the house. The Verkings replied with a volley, but Cabot cautioned them to conserve their ammunition and, watch him pick off with his rifle one by one, the heads which showed themselves above the pailing. This soon ceased to be interesting, so giving the rifle and bandolier to one of the more intelligent of his men, and instructing them to hold the laboratory at all costs, the Earthman set out, sword in hand, by a back way to rejoin Doggle and Quiven. The allies which he threaded were deserted. He reached the rear of Judd's compound without a vent and passed in to one of the enclosures through a small and well-concealed gate in the face of the wall. Quiven had pointed this route out to him before, but never had he traversed it farther than this point. He looked cautiously around him, then he rubbed his eyes and looked again. He could hardly believe his senses. There stood a Formian airplane in apparently perfect condition, approaching it gingerly with drawn sword. He circled it carefully, to make sure that it contained no enemies. But it was deserted. A heasty inspection disclosed that everything was in working order, except that the fuel tank was empty. Probably then, this was the plane at which he had fired. But no, for this plane did not even smell of alcohol. The tank had evidently been dry for some time. And there was no sign of any bullet hole in it. Gradually the fact dawned on him that this was Doggle's plane, which Judd had concealed from them for so long. He must reach Doggle and tell him. At the farther side of the enclosure, from the side at which he had entered, there was a door. Miles raced toward it and flung it open. Beyond it there was a second enclosure, similar to the first. Miles raced across this one as well, and flung open another door, whereupon outpoured a crowd of roys, upsetting him, and throwing him, sprawling upon the ground. But they were as surprised as he was at the encounter, and this fact enabled him to regain his sword and scramble to his feet, before they were upon him again, with parry and thrust. Good swordsmen, as he was, they had soon forced him, his back against the wall, to defend his life with his trusty wooden blade. Time and again one of their points would reach his tunic, but he kept his neck well guarded, and so was able to stand them off. When he had drawn his breath and got his bearings, and his defense had become slightly a matter of routine, he recognized the leader of the enemy as none other than the traitor, Tippi. His first thought was to run Tippi through for his treachery, but then he reflected that quite likely Quiven really loved Tippi after all. It would be a shame to kill this boy, merely because his unrequited love had caused him to lose his head. From then on Miles had no time to reflect on anything, for he was engaged in the difficult task of trying to defend himself without hurting Tippi. The young bear king had recognized the earth man, and was hurling vituperations at him, but Miles saved his breath for his sword play. Even so he gradually tired. His sword hand no longer instantly responded to every command of his agile brain, and even his brain itself became less agile. It was only a matter of time when he would be certain to make a misplay and go down before his opponents, yet still he struggled on. And then suddenly a new complication entered the game, for he was seized from behind the arms and was lifted, struggling and kicking off the ground. End of Chapter 17. Recording by John Brandon Chapter 18 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 18. The Fall of Verkingi. As Miles was lifted from the ground by the unknown force behind which had seized him beneath the armpits, his royal opponents fell back away from him in surprise. But immediately their expressions changed to intense pleasure. Quite evidently they regarded this mysterious new power as an ally. Miles could not squirm around to see what was holding him. So still grasping his sword in his right hand, he felt with his left hand under his armpit and found there the claw of a formian. In another moment he would be within reach of its horrid jaws and then would come the paralyzing bite which he knew so well from past experience. Nevertheless he could die fighting. Shifting his sword quickly so that he held it point upward, he struck backward with it across his shoulder and had the satisfaction of hearing and feeling at glint on the carapace of his captor. A few more strokes and by lucky chance his blade might find a joint in the black shell of the Ant-Man. But just as he was about to strike again a familiar voice behind him called out, Stop Miles for builder's sake, stop. It is Dogo who holds you and is rescuing you from your enemies. It was the voice of Quiven. Tippi and the Roy's instantly understood and made a rush at their late victim. But they were too late for Dogo had lifted the earth man safely over the wall. There stood Quiven and the members of their guard. Quick Dogo, the rifles, Miles shouted. Your missing plane is in the next enclosure. You must reach it before the enemy does. Of course this was all lost on the radio sense of the formian, but the other members of the party acted at once. On their side of the wall there was a platform near the top. Springing lightly onto this, the furry maid and the captain of the guard covered the Roy's with their rifles. You exclaimed Tippi in surprise. What did you expect, Quiven taunted? You attacked this city in search of me, here I am. You can have me, if you can catch me. But you had better not try it just now, for I and my friends have these magic slingshots which can kill at almost any distance. Go quickly before I try it on you for old time's sake go. But Tippi and his Roy's stood steadfast. The captain and Quiven fired. Two Roy's dropped, and the others fled precipitately out through the gates by which they entered. Tippi the steadfast was left alone confronting Cabot and his companions, but he never budged. Over the fence vaulted the five Verking guardsmen in their leather armor and attacked their renegade countrymen, who being a noble wore only a leather helmet. The unequal contest could have but one result, yet Quiven looked on complacently at the impending downfall of her former sweetheart. Cabot, however, had more heart. Running along the platform within the wall, he vaulted over at a point distant from the contest. Sneak steadily up on Tippi, and suddenly throttled him from behind, at the same time shouting to his own henchmen to desist. The five Verkings obediently dropped their swords, and then trussed up the young noble with his own leather belt and sword sling by placing him in a sitting posture, tying his ankles together, slipping a piece of stick beneath his knees, placing his elbows under the ends of this stick, and tying his wrists together in front of his shins. Also they gagged him, and thus they left the traitor, rolled ignominiously into a corner, his eyes blazing with a piteous hate. Meanwhile Dogo exploring the exits had seen his plane. He returned to the group bristling with excitement and made signs to them to follow him. Out of respect for his joy, none of the party let on that Cabot had been the first to find the airship, and had already informed them of it. So they followed Dogo, and gave every indication of being much impressed. With loving touch, the huge black ant man caressed each strut and brace, and guy and joint and lever, as he made a thorough inspection of his long lost craft. All appeared to be in perfect condition. Even the bombs, the rifle, and the ammunition were intact. From somewhere in the interior of the fuselage, Dogo produced a pad of paper and a form in stylus and wrote, alcohol, we must have alcohol. Then away from these accursed shores for ever. Seizing the writing materials, Miles replied, you have four rifles. Let me take one of them. Protect this plane with the other three. While I return alone by the back way and bring the alcohol here under convoy of the entire laboratory guard. Then, giving no time for dissent, he sees the rifle and vandalier from the plane and was gone. Out through the next enclosure he went. Slid open the secret door in the wall and peered cautiously out. One lone ant man with rifle and vandalier was parading the alley. Miles fired but missed. The Formian promptly took cover behind a pile of rubbish and fired back. Miles hastily withdrew then cautiously put his head through the opening again in order to take a shot at his enemy. But the enemy fired first. The bullet grazed the leather helmet of the earth man and stunning him considerably. So he sat on the ground within the enclosure and rubbed his sore head for a few minutes. What a narrow escape. Then he had an idea. He propped his hat on a stick so that it would sway gently in the breeze. Its rim just projecting through the opening in the wall giving every indication of life. Then he ran quickly along inside the wall until he came to a corner which he judged must be about opposite the rubbish heap which sheltered the Formian. Climbing quietly up the studding at this point he peered carefully over. There lay his black enemy only a few feet away steadily watching the bobbing edge of the helmet. Two shots from Cabot's rifle and the vigil was over and soon the earth man his helmet regained and with an extra rifle and cartridge belt flung across his shoulders was proceeding unmolested down the alley. He reached the laboratory without further adventure and found everything as he had left it. The guard however reported that they had had to repulse three assaults by Roy's the last of which had been led by a Formian armed with a rifle. If it had not been for this magic slingshot which you left with us said the guardsman we should have been beaten but the surprise of the savage ones at finding us thus armed was so great that even their leader could not rally them. Though the beast did kill several of our men before he finally fled with his Roy Henchman. The radio man then informed them of his intention to cart the alcohol to Judd's enclosure where new wonders would be performed. Accordingly all except a few sentinels withdrew into the laboratory to load up. First Miles sorted out the bottles which were small enough to carry conveniently and then filled these bottles with alcohol from the large car boys in which it was stored. This left a dozen or so car boys still unemptied. It would be a pity to leave these behind but it would be impossible to get a cart out by the back way. So the radio man gave hasty directions to take an empty cart through his front gate under guard and attempt to get it around by the various winding streets into the alley without it's being captured by the enemy. Meanwhile all the alcohol was moved to the alley gate and heavily guarded there. While this was being done Miles Cavett took a few minutes time for a farewell glance around his laboratory which he was about to quit for the last time. He had enjoyed working here for there is no human pleasure greater than the joy of accomplishment and here he had accomplished the almost superhuman task of building up a complete sending and receiving radio set out of its basic elements. Even though he was about to journey home to his Lella and his baby son in Cubia he hated to leave this precious set and your resistable impulse drew him to it as a loadstone draws a magnet. He placed his fingers on the controls. He tuned to the same wavelength in which he had talked and received earlier in the day. A voice was speaking in the language of Formia and Cubia. Berkingi is about to fall all master and with it the Minorean must certainly get into our hands for our scout flyers are circling the outer walls to the city to prevent his escape. So that is why the ant planes hadn't bothered them recently. But old master the voice of the ant man continued, I have bad news to report along with the good. For while practically our entire populace was engaged with the hordes of our ally, Ot the Terrible in besieging Berkingi, other hordes of furry savages undergroud the silent have attacked and captured our own city of Uriana and with it have seized our reserve planes and supplies of ammunition. I have, but before the Formian could complete his signing off, Miles slammed over the leaf switch and cut in with, Cabot speaking, Cabot speaking. No then, O Uri, that Berkingi will not fall. My arms of victory is here at your Ant City of Uriana. Presently you will cease to receive any further messages from either here or your own mountain station and then you will know that the last of your Formians has perished off the face of this continent. Soon you may expect me and my furry allies to fly across the boiling seas to redeem Gupia, but of our coming we shall give you no further warning. Tremble and await us. Meanwhile, believe none of the stories which your henchmen will falsely send you to keep up your courage. Answer me now and tell me that you have received my message. I have spoken. Then he set the switches to receive. Back came the answer, but it was from the mountain station to the south, and it came from Prince Uri in Gupia. It is a lie, the Menorrian lies. Of course it was a lie, but it was war, and Uri would not know which version to credit. If anything would happen to the sendings set near the city of the ants, Uri certainly would believe the worst from that time on. Cabot smiled to himself. The Formian continued denying and explaining and apologizing. Finally he signed off, and then Prince Uri got on the air. Listen, O Formian, he said, and you, O Cabot, I received both of your messages. Naturally I believe my own man. Call me again when you have something further to report. I have spoken. He may believe his own henchman now. Cabot muttered to himself, but later he will begin to doubt. Then shutting off his set, he penned a hurried note in duplicate to Otto the Bold. Congratulations on the capture of the city of the Black Beasts. Destroy their hut in the mountains, where you first shot arrows at me, and first saw me use the magic slingshot. Destroy it at all costs, for with it ends the power of the beasts. Cabot the Menorian. One copy he gave to each of two of the most trusted of his laboratory guards, and adjured them at all costs to break through the line separately and get the message to the Prince of the friendly faction of the Roys. If either of my Bear Kings succeeds in reaching Prince Otto, Miles said to himself, it will mean the end of Yuri's reports from this continent. Then with his sigh the radio man picked up an iron mallet and demolished his own radio set, the work of so many hours of care. When he had finished there was not a fragment left intact. This too must pass, he quoted sadly. At this point one of his Bear Kings rushed in upon him with a shout, a party of Roys is attacking the alley gate. Shaking himself together the radio man bade farewell to his beloved laboratory, picked up his two rifles and his ammunition, and hastened to take command of his forces. He found that his cart had safely got around to the gate, but that a hand to hand conflict for its possession was now in progress between the guard and a large force of Roys. So intermingled were the contestants that the leader of the Bear Kings had not dared to use his rifle. Cabot, however, had the confidence of greater experience. A few well-placed shots fired by him from the gate, and the enemy broke away and retreated down the alley. Miles handed out one of his own two rifles, thus raising the number of his riflemen to two. These with several bullmen took cover down the alley to hold off any counter-attack by the enemy. The car boys of alcohol were then quickly loaded into the cart, along with all the reserve ammunition which Doggo had manufactured and the expedition set forth. Cabot with his rifle in the lead, the other two riflemen and the archers forming a rear guard, closely followed by the hostile band of Roys. But in spite of this pursuit all went well until the party turned into the alley of the secret door to Judd's enclosure. Here they found the way blocked by a formidable body of furry savages led by half a dozen ant men armed with rifles. Luckily there was plenty of rubbish in the alley behind which to take cover from those ahead those behind were not much of a problem not having any firearms other than bows and arrows. But it was aggravating to be stopped within sight of one's goal. Furthermore three of the rifle armed ants promptly departed, doubtless for the purpose either of bringing up reinforcements or of joining the Roys who were on the other side of Cabot's party. There was no time to be lost. The rifles were now three to three. Accordingly the earth man called his archers from the rear and ordered a charge. Of course his porters could not fight while carrying a bottle of alcohol under each arm so all the bottles were piled around the cart and left with a small guard. The attack proved temporarily successful. Step by step the three ants and their Roys allies were driven back. But just as Cabot and his vera kings were about to gain the secret opening in the wall word was brought that the Roys in the rear were attacking the cart so Cabot had to order a speedy retreat to save his precious alcohol. Thus giving up in an instant the ground which it had taken so long to gain. The Roys were readily repulsed from the cart and retreated down the alley in disorder but the party with whom Cabot and his vera kings had just been fighting formed at once for a counter attack. At this juncture a row of heads suddenly and unexpectedly appeared over the top of the wall. Quiven the golden flame, Dogo the ant man and six vera king guardsmen. Quiven and two guardsmen held rifles with which they promptly covered the approaches to the alley while Dogo started hurling airplane bombs into the group of Roys led by his three countrymen. When the smoke cleared the alley was cleared as well. Here and there were arms and legs and other anatomical sections of Roys and formiants. All the survivors had fled. Miles picked up two ant rifles and the twisted remains of a third and hurriedly passed what was left of his precious liquid fuel in through the little gate in the wall. Nearly half the bottles and car boys had been broken during the fighting. The vera king dead numbered about a dozen with several more wounded. These were brought within the enclosure and ministered to by Quiven. By this time the pink twilight had begun to settle over the planet Poros. Departure that day was now out of the question. Accordingly guards were posted and the rest of the party prepared to spend the night close to the plain on tapestries filched from the palace of Judd the excuse maker. The radial man himself was nearly exhausted having worked steadily for 36 hours on the completion of his set and the subsequent fighting. Yet before he turned in he inquired about the state of the battle. It appeared that little was known save that the city was overrun by ant men and the furry savages about the terrible and that isolated groups of vera kings were defending as best they could their respective enclosures against the invaders. Cavett reported the capture of the ant city by Grodd the silent which news served to hearten his own little band considerably. The mention of the radio set whereby he had obtained this information suggested to him to ask have you tried to get to the palace of the off the grim with the small set in Judd's quarters. Yes Quiven replied repeatedly but no one answers. You see the palace set is in my own rooms and it is probably not occurred to anyone to go there. Then they lay down for a fitful night of shouts and shots and flares but no one attacked the enclosure which they occupied. Along toward morning the earth man fell into a soundless sleep only to be awakened by one of his vera king soldiers shaking him roughly by the shoulders. Awake! the Leatherclad warrior shouted. Awake! Vera Kingi is in flames. The fire is rapidly eating its way toward us. It was true all around them was the uncanny red of the conflagration. Overhead there sped flocks of sparks against the background of billowy clouds of smoke and a further background of jet black sky. Immediate steps were necessary to protect the airship from the flying embers. Accordingly the bottles and carboys of alcohol were emptied into the fuel tank of the craft and then filled with water. Brooms of brush were brought and used to beat out such sparks as endangered the plane. Doggo tested the motors and found them in good order. The tapestries were loaded on board. Then there remained nothing they could do except keep watch, guard the plane and await the dawn. Although of course if the holocaust should approach too near it would become necessary for them to fly night or no night. Meanwhile it occurred to Miles to try once more to get the palace on the air. So with rifle and ammunition slung over his shoulders and carrying a torch he proceeded to Judd's quarters. On the way he spied a dark form crouching in a corner of the fence of one of the enclosures. End of chapter 18 recording by John Brandon