II
An Incredible Story
Bull Mike’s open hand drove at him, its hard heel striking his chin. With a gasp the Martian collapsed and would have fallen had not Neil caught and supported him.
“Here, none of that, Bull Mike!” barked Sukune. “You don’t know your own strength—and very little else, either. Pour water on the fellow, Neil.”
The Martian revived. He fingered his bruised face and glared up at the three Terrestrials. He still refused to answer questions.
But he couldn’t have come all the way from home. “How far is it to Mars?” queried Bull Mike.
“We’ll see,” said Neil, turning to the television and checking the distance-finding device on it. “H’m, Mars is nearly on the other side of the sun. ’Way out of flight-shot. That little asteroid shows at about a hundred and fifty million miles.”
“That asteroid!” repeated the Martian in a frightened voice. All three stared at him in surprise. He recovered himself. “What asteroid?” he queried more calmly.
“Asking, are you?” said Neil. “Well, I think you know. Where does that asteroid come in?”
“I’m not talking,” said the Martian doggedly.
“We’ll remedy that,” announced Sukune grimly. “Get that spacesuit off of him, you two.”
The prisoner struggled fiercely, but his puny strength was futile against their muscles, attuned to Earth’s greater gravity. Quickly they overpowered him and stripped away his armor of metal and insulated fabric.
“Make him lie down on his face—so!” The Japanese had a hard gleam in his eye. “Hold him by the wrists, Neil. And you, Bull Mike, hold his ankles.”
They did so. “Will you talk now?” Sukune asked the Martian.
“I’ll not!”
“Well,” sighed Sukune, “this may seem a little crude, my friend, but it’s necessary. Earth needs the information—and, if you’ll remember, you did attack an unarmed ship.”
Kneeling, he laid the tips of his fingers on the prisoner’s flanks. It seemed no more than the lightest touch, yet the Martian shrieked out as if in an ecstasy of pain.
“You’ll talk?” prompted the torturer.
“I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”
“A little spot of jiujitsu,” Sukune said to his friends, rising. “It is strange how much the Martian nerve centers resemble the Terrestrial in position and response to stimuli. Let him up again.”
The Martian dropped weakly on a seat, the defiance gone out of him. Sukune produced a metal flask and unscrewed the stopper.
“Here, drink this,” he told the captive. “It’s Terrestrial wine, it’ll strengthen you. There, feel better? All right, tell us where you came from.”
The Martian licked his lips with his dark, pointed tongue. “You guessed it at once,” he said. “I’m from the asteroid. I was on a lone scout, like you; got too far away from home and ran out of fuel. I thought I’d capture you and fill my tanks.”
“Nonsense!” said Sukune. “That asteroid isn’t as large as lots of mountains on Earth. If a body of Martians had dwellings and fortifications on it, our astronomers would have made them out. You don’t mean to tell us that you’ve been living on it.”
The captive frowned and hesitated until he saw Sukune’s wiry fingers crook suggestively. Then he made haste to reply.
“Not on it. Inside it. It’s an artificial asteroid.”
They looked at him in astonishment, only half-comprehending.
“Already you know about the giant ship on the Moon, that housed so many men—”
“You mean,” said Neil, “that the asteroid is a giant ship also?”
“It’s more than one. On Mars we built four tremendous craft, each about one of your Earth miles in length and shaped like a quarter-slice from a round fruit. Then we took the four into space, one at a time, to the point where we wanted the asteroid’s orbit to be. There we joined them together, like the quarters of the fruit fitted into shape again. The outer surfaces of them are roughcast to represent the natural rocky landscape of a little planet. And there we have a little world of our own, midway between Mars and your Earth.”
The three Terrestrials were still mute with amazement. The Martian had recovered enough of his courage to laugh at them.
“I know that it sounds impossible. And so it must be, to such as you. Only on Mars, where we have the greatest metal resources, the most skillful mechanics, the wisest scientists in all the great universe, could such a thing be possible.”
“Well,” said Sukune, “what about it?”
“The Earth revolves around the sun every three hundred and sixty-five days, Mars in twice that. They will not come into opposition again for fully an Earth year from now. Naturally, Earth feels secure. Her mighty ships of war are idle, her millions of manpower loll in peaceful repose. They do not dream that this little artificial world may be dangerous. But it makes its journey around the sun in approximately four hundred and eighty days, and that can be speeded or slowed somewhat by means of tremendous rocket-engines. It will come into opposition with unthinking Earth in one hundred and fifty days, as I approximate it.”
“Next April!” figured Neil quickly. “And then?”
“And then the little world will empty itself. It can bring forth two thousand heavily-armed ships, manned by six hundred thousand picked men. The space armies of Earth with their ships and weapons will be mighty and many, but unwary. Those two thousand Martian raiders will sell themselves at the highest cost, crippling and destroying Earth’s defenses and cities to the utmost of their power. If they are lucky, you and your comrades will be prostrated, so that, months later, the expeditionary force from Mars can capture the planet without serious opposition.”
The Martian bowed slightly, as if he were concluding a public address.
“I wonder if he’s lying,” said Bull Mike.
“Not at all, gentlemen,” said the Martian. “Do you give me credit for inventing such a wonderful tale?”
“Let’s get back to Earth,” suggested Neil.
“Right,” seconded Sukune. “Back there we’ll turn ourselves in for being absent without leave, but they’ll forget about us when they check this lad’s veracity under the truth-ray.”
The three agreed. First they bound their prisoner hand and foot. Bull Mike was told off to mount guard over him and Sukune returned to the controls. Putting on the Martian’s spacesuit, Neil hopped out and across the abyss to the other ship where it still clung by its automatic grapple. Transferring some new fuel to its tanks, he sent it speeding along in the wake of Sukune’s craft.
In the stratosphere above St. Louis a patrol sighted and hailed them. The Martian craft was instantly boarded and seized, and the commander of the patrol bombarded the occupants of the two vessels with sharp, suspicious questions. At last he listened to the pleadings of the young Terrestrials and took them and their prisoner direct to their home rocketport, where Commander Scholom Raws, the officer of the space-scout squadron to which they belonged, was called to hear their story.
His first sharp accusation of truancy was stilled as they poured out their strange tale. When they had finished he ordered them to form a guard for the Martian and led the way at once to staff headquarters of the Intelligence Department many levels below.
The group of intelligence officers who heard the report was deadly serious. First it held a whispered conference behind closed doors. Then the officers emerged again to question Neil, Bull Mike and Sukune, one at a time. The three were sworn not to discuss their adventure, even among themselves, and directed to return to their quarters.
The Martian prisoner also repeated his story. Subjected to the truth-rays, which, properly administered, eliminate the power of lying, he answered all questions in substantially the same manner as before. He was prevailed upon to draw diagrams of the artificial planetoid in which his fellows were whirling ever nearer to their opposition with Earth.
Finally he was imprisoned and a trusted guard set over him, with every precaution taken to insure absolute secrecy. Should Martian spies, still thick in every Terrestrial community, despite the ceaseless war waged upon them, find out the facts of the man’s capture, the plans of the Terrestrial high command might go for naught.
Commander Raws mentioned the affair once only. That was when he called Neil and his two friends into his quarters; and first making sure that nobody could hear them, spoke as follows:
“I do not condone your absence without leave although it may have chanced to bring fortune to our cause. Yet the high command feels that there is some reward due you.”
He paused and studied the three young faces.
“That reward will be the knowledge of what your part will be in further action against this Martian force,” he continued. “Well, I have asked for and received permission for my squadron to be included in the raiding group that is going to tackle them. No, ask no questions. Dismiss!”
Thereafter nothing more was said and no further hint of the nature of the plan of campaign was forthcoming. Only here and there, all over Earth’s surface, isolated flights and squadrons of war-craft were given extra-duty training, were led in longer and more intricate maneuvers than their fellows; were ordered to install fighting equipment on their ships and to practice its use.
The number of Martians inside the round hull of the asteroid, according to the prisoner, was about six hundred thousand. The asteroid would have several thousand swift, light raiding ships, all fully armed and, in addition, the sham world would assuredly be defended and fortified to a high degree. Undoubtedly it was well guarded and observers with television and astronomical equipment would keep close watch on Earth as they approached. A fleet of spaceships could hardly steal upon that mile-size ball through coverless space—surprise would be out of the question. And chances seemed hardly better that the battle could be won by sheer force of arms.
However, a group of six thousand spaceships was organized for the attempt, ranging in size and model from small scouts such as were included in Commander Raws’ squadron to huge and powerful dreadnaughts of space. Since these larger, heavier craft were less fitted for long journeys, the start of the expedition was delayed until the middle of January, 2676. Should the group start from Earth at that time, computations showed, the Martian asteroid would be met at a point some seventy million miles away, shortly after the first of March. Even for that comparatively short journey the big ships would have to be refitted with special tanks for reserve fuel and the crews would have to be cut down accordingly. In the end, barely three hundred thousand men were included in the plans.