There was no hope for the battleship. The sharp, deadly, armored point of the gantor struck it amidships fifteen feet above the ground and rammed into it for fifty feet, firing its bow guns and its forward port and starboard guns, raking the whole interior of the battleship.
As it hung there a moment, finishing its work of destruction, the other gantor passed it, and you may rest assured the remainder of the Pangan fleet gave it a wide berth, opening up a broad path for it; and though there was no ship in front of it, it kept on straight toward the city.
The first gantor in the meantime backed out of the stricken battleship and, apparently unscathed, followed its companion. I saw now that each of them was headed for a gate, and I instantly recognized the real purpose for which they had been constructed. We followed close behind one of them with several other athgans. Behind us came a column of battleships.
“If we get inside the city,” said our rokor, “we are to take the first left-hand avenue. It leads to the barracks. That is the objective of our squadron. Shoot anyone who offers resistance.”
The gates of Hor are of wood covered with armorplate, but; when the gantor hit them, they crashed down upon the avenue beyond, and the gantors went over them and we followed, turning into the first avenue at the left.
Through the gates behind us the great battleships had rolled. On toward the center of the city they moved. We could hear the sound of the battle that was being carried into the heart of Hor as we made our way toward the barracks. This building, or series of buildings, we found along one side of an enormous parade ground.
The Pangans were certainly unprepared for anything of this sort. There was not a single gun ready to receive us, the men who rushed from the barracks having only their r-ray pistols and rifles, which were utterly useless against our armored athgan.
The battle went on in the city until almost dark. Falsan athgans ranged the avenues, striking terror to the hearts of her citizens, while the battleships massed in the great square before the jong’s palace and dealt death and destruction until the jong surrendered. But in the meantime the main body of the Pangan fleet had escaped through the rear gates of the city. However, Hor had been taken and the ten-year war was supposedly over.
During the fighting in the city we had suffered three casualties on the 975. The pilot had been killed by a chance r-ray shot through an open port, as had our rokor, and the man at the port gun. I was not piloting the athgan, and as the pilot is supposed to rank directly beneath the rokor, I assumed command of the ship. The only reason I got away with it was because there was no superior officer to know about it and the three remaining Falsans were simple warriors who could have been commanded by anyone with initiative.
XLVII
I waited in the plaza for some time, expecting instructions from my squadron commander, but I got none. Pangans, mostly girls, were moving about the plaza freely; and presently I saw a number of Falsan warriors with them, and it was evident that the men had been drinking. About this time three Pangan girls came to the 975 and offered us liquor in small jugs. Ero Shan and I refused, but the three Falsans on board accepted it enthusiastically, and after a few drinks they became hilarious; and, remarking something to the effect that to the victors belong the spoils, they left the ship and went off arm in arm with the Pangan girls.
Ero Shan and I were left alone on the ship. We discussed our situation and what we might do under the circumstances.
“Now that we have complete possession of the 975,” I said, “we might as well take advantage of it and go out and search for Duare.”
“We stand about one chance in a million of finding her,” he replied, “but I’m for that millionth chance if you are.”
“Well, we certainly can’t find her in the city of Hor,” I said; “so we might as well go out and scour the country in the vicinity of the place where she disappeared.”
“You realize, of course, what the penalty will be for stealing a ship and deserting when we are finally picked up.”
“Oh, we’re not deserting,” I said, “we’re looking for our squadron commander.”
Ero Shan laughed. “It’s all right if you can get away with it,” he said.
I headed the 975 back along the avenue down which we had come from the gate at which we had entered the city. Along the entire route we encountered crowds of drunken warriors, singing and dancing with Pangan girls.
“The Pangans seem to be a most hospitable people,” remarked Ero Shan.
“The Falsans say that they are fools,” I said, “but I should say that it is the Falsans who are the fools right now.”
When we reached the gate, which still lay where the great gantor had thrown it, we found it heavily guarded by Falsan warriors, who halted us. There were no girls here, and these men had not been drinking. An officer approached and asked where we thought we were going.
“I am looking for my squadron commander,” I replied. “I can’t find him in the city and I thought possibly the squadron might have formed outside of Hor.”
“You will probably find him up around the central plaza,” said the officer. “Most of the fleet is there and none of our fleet is outside the city.”
Disappointed, I turned back and took the main avenue which led toward the center of the city and the jong’s palace; and as we proceeded, evidence of the hospitality of the Pangans multiplied, the visible effects of which had degenerated into nothing less than a drunken orgy. One thing that was particularly noticeable was the absence of Pangan men from the avenues, and the fact that few, if any, of the Pangan girls appeared to be under the influence of liquor.
In the central plaza, before the jong’s palace, pandemonium reigned. A great many ships of our fleet were there, packed in without military order, their decks filled with Pangan girls and drunken Falsan warriors.
For the purpose of carrying out the fiction that I was looking for my squadron commander, I made inquiries from a warrior attached to the flagship, a man who I knew would recognize and remember me.
“Squadron commander,” he repeated. “He is probably in the palace. The jong is giving a banquet for the officers of our fleet.” He handed me a jug. “Have a drink,” he invited. “It is good liquor, the best I ever tasted. These Pangans are really wonderful people, treating us this way now that, after ten years, we have won the war and conquered Hor. Have a drink.”
“No, thanks,” I said. “I have got to get into the palace and find my squadron commander.” And we moved off in the direction of the great gates of the jong’s palace.
“Do you really mean that you want to get in there?” asked Ero Shan.
“I certainly do,” I said. “I think Danlot should know that his entire force is drunk. You come with me, Ero Shan. Whatever happens, we will stick together.”
The guard at the palace gate halted us. “I have an important message for the lotokor Danlot,” I said.
The man sized us up. Except for our helmets, we wore no regulation article of the Falsan uniform. The fellow hesitated and then he called an officer, to whom I repeated my statement.
“Certainly,” he said; “come right in. You will find your commanding officer in the banquet hall.”
The corridors of the palace, and the apartments into which we could see as we made our way toward the banquet hall, were filled with drunken Falsan officers and sober Pangans. At the entrance to the banquet hall we were halted again, and once again I repeated the statement that I had a message for Danlot. While we were waiting for an officer whom the sentry had summoned, we had an opportunity to take in the scenes in the banquet hall. Long tables filled the room, at which were seated all the higher officers of the Falsan navy, practically all of whom were obviously under the influence of liquor; and beside each drunken Falsan sat a sober Pangan. On a raised platform at the far end of the room, at a smaller table, sat Jahan, jong of Panga, with the highest officers of his realm and the ranking officers of the Falsan navy. Danlot sat on the jong’s right. He was slumped in his chair, his chin resting on his breast. He seemed to be asleep.