Now I turned the periscope back on the enemy bridge and saw a foot protruding beneath the shield of the gun directly opposite me. I set my sights on the foot and blew it off. I heard the fellow scream and then I saw him roll to the deck. He should have held on to himself better, for now his head was exposed, and a couple of seconds later that followed his foot. The gun, however, kept on firing. There might be two more gunners behind that shield.
The t-ray travels in a straight path, not much greater in diameter than an ordinary lead pencil. The two bursts that I had fired from the gun had convinced me that it was an extremely accurate weapon. Naturally, the rolling and the bumping of the two ships as they forged along side by side made almost any hit more or less an accident. No matter how much a ship rolls, there is an instant at each end of its roll when it is static, and it was at this instant that I had fired my two bursts. Now I determined to try for another lucky shot, and sought to train my gun on the tiny opening in the muzzle of the enemy gun that was facing me. If I could strike that tiny target, the gun would be permanently disabled. Following that little target with my sight was nerve-racking. I fired a dozen bursts without accomplishing anything and then for a fraction of a second the two ships seemed to stand perfectly still simultaneously. My sight was directly on the opening in the muzzle of the enemy gun as I pressed the button which liberates the t-ray. I could see the gun quiver as the t-rays bored completely through it, and I knew that I had made a direct hit and that that gun would fire no more.
Only one gun was now in action on the enemy bridge, and I could see two of its gunners lying dead outside the shield; so I was pretty sure that it was manned by only one man and that the surviving gunner or gunners of the piece I had hit would try to reach the remaining gun and reinforce its crew; so I turned my piece on the space between the two guns and waited. Sure enough, both gunners started to dart across simultaneously and I got them both.
Looking around for new worlds to conquer, I turned my periscope on other parts of the enemy battleship. It had taken a terrific beating, but most of its guns were still in action. I saw a point, very low down on the hull, where a chemical shell had burst. It was on the armored apron that protects the running gear. I turned my piece on that spot and pressed the button. It was impossible to hold it there constantly because of the movement of the two ships, but I had the satisfaction of seeing a hole appear in the armor; and I kept on plugging away at it until there was a hole there as big as a man’s head, exposing the great metal track upon which the monster traveled. The track was moving so fast that the t-rays were spread over a considerable surface, with the result that no immediate effects were observable; but presently I saw the tracks crumple beneath the giant wheels, and jam. Instantly the battleship swung toward us with the blocking of its wheels on the port side, while the starboard side was still in motion. We veered away at full speed just in time to avoid a collision; and then, as the enemy ship came to a stop, we left her to the mercy of the destroyers and scout ships that swarmed around her like hyenas and jackals.
For the first time since I had manned the gun I had an opportunity to look about me and I saw that the enemy fleet was in full flight, with our destroyers and cruisers harassing it. Astern as far as the eye could see the plain was dotted with disabled ships of both sides, and I could see hand to hand fighting on the ground as the Falsans sought to take prisoners.
Night was falling and the flagship was signaling the fleet to return to formation. As far as I was concerned, the battle was over; and as I looked around the bridge I could appreciate why the officer had suggested that I go below. He and I and two gunners were the only survivors of the engagement. As I stood up and surveyed the carnage, he came over and spoke to me.
“You fought that gun well,” he said.
“Not much like a Pangan spy, do you think?” I said, smiling.
“No, nor not much like a man who has never seen a lantar before,” he said.
“I have seen other ships, and fought them too, but they sailed on oceans and not on land.”
“You will get plenty more fighting tomorrow,” he remarked. “We should reach Hor by early afternoon, and then there will really be fighting.”
“What is this war all about?” I asked.
“It’s a matter of grazing land for the herds,” he replied. “Panga wants it all. So we have been fighting over it for the last ten years, and while we have been fighting, the men of Hangor have stolen nearly all of their herds and the men of Maltor have stolen nearly all of ours.”
“Doesn’t either side ever win any decisive battles?” I asked.
“Our fleet always defeats theirs,” he replied. “But so far we have been unable to take the city of Hor; that would decide the war.”
“And then what?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he said, “but the chances are we will go to war with Maltor to recover our stolen herds.”
After the battle a couple of hospital ships and a transport came up from the rear. The transport brought replacements and the hospital ships took the wounded aboard. Most of the night was devoted to making repairs and there was little sleep.
When morning broke I saw two very strange-looking craft that had come up during the night. They were heavily armored, enormous monstrosities, with cone-shaped prows that came to a point about fifteen feet above the ground. Each had four very heavy guns pointing straight ahead just in rear of the cones. The muzzle of each gun was flush with the surface of the armorplate, the guns themselves being hidden in the interior of the hull. There was one on either side, one above, and one below the prow; lighter, protective t-ray guns, fired from ports along the sides and at the stern. The hulls were cylindrical in shape and the whole ship looked like an enormous torpedo. I could not see what their purpose could be, for it was evident that their maneuverability would be very poor.
Shortly after daylight we got under way, and soon thereafter Danlot sent for me.
“Your conduct during yesterday’s action has been reported to me,” he said. “Your action was highly commendable and I would like to show my appreciation in some way.”
“You can do that,” I replied, “by permitting me to rejoin my mate.”
“That was another matter I wished to speak to you about,” he said. “Your mate is missing.”
“Missing!” I exclaimed. “What do you mean? Was she killed during yesterday’s action?”
“No,” he replied. “Vantor’s body was found in his cabin this morning. He had been stabbed through the heart, and your mate was not on the ship when they searched it for her.”
XLVI
Duare gone! Out there somewhere alone and on foot in this strange land. “You must let me go and look for her,” I said.
Danlot shook his head. “You could accomplish nothing,” he said. “I have sent two scouting lantars to search the country for her.”
“That is kind of you,” I said.
He looked at me in surprise. “Evidently you do not understand,” he said. “Your mate has murdered one of our of fixers, or at least the evidence indicates as much and she must be brought to justice.”
I was appalled. “You cannot mean that!” I exclaimed. “It is quite obvious why she had to kill him. It is evident that he deserved to be killed.”
“We do not look at such matters that way,” replied Danlot. “Vantor was a good officer, with years of training. He was extremely valuable to Falsa, much more valuable than forty women.