“I don’t like the looks of this,” I said to Ero Shan in a whisper.
“Neither do I,” he replied. “I think we should get out of here. It would be a waste of time delivering your message to Danlot.”
“I’m afraid it’s too late anyway,” I said. I had scarcely ceased speaking, and we still stood looking into the banquet hall, when Jahan the jong rose and drew his sword. It was evidently a prearranged signal, for simultaneously every Pangan officer in the banquet hall followed the example of his jong, and every Pangan sword was pointed at the breast of a Falsan. Trumpets sounded, and other trumpets carried the call to arms down every corridor of the palace and out into the city.
I snatched off Ero Shan’s helmet and my own and tossed them on the floor. He looked at me in sudden surprise and then smiled, for he realized that now no one could identify us as Falsans, and that for the time being we might be overlooked, possibly long enough to permit us to escape.
A few of the Falsan officers resisted and were killed, but most of them were disarmed and made prisoners. In the confusion we made our way out of the palace and through the gates with a number of Pangan officers.
As we reached the plaza we saw Pangan troops pouring in from every avenue, while Pangan girls were pouring from every ship and fleeing to safety.
The fighting in the plaza was soon over, as it was in other parts of the city, for the drunken, disorganized Falsans could put up little or no resistance since most of them had been surreptitiously disarmed by the Pangan girls.
Within an hour the Falsans had been herded into the plaza before the barracks, and were being held there under guard. Most of them lay asleep on the sward in drunken stupors. A few of those who had been on guard at the gates escaped on foot out into the night. The Pangans had taken thousands of prisoners and the entire Falsan land fleet. It looked to me as though the ten-year-old war was over.
“The Pangans were not such fools after all,” I said to Ero Shan.
We were standing near the 975, looking at it longingly and wondering how we could get out of the city with it, when an officer came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.
“Who are you two?” he demanded as I turned around to face him.
“We were prisoners of the Falsans,” I replied, “but after the men who were guarding us got drunk, we escaped.” Then I had an inspiration. “We are both gunners,” I said, “and I am a pilot. We would like to enlist in the service of your jong.”
The officer scratched his head. “You don’t look like Falsans,” he admitted, “But you’re not Pangans; so I’ll put you under arrest until morning, and then the proper authorities can decide what is to be done to you.” He summoned some soldiers then and told them to lock us up until morning and then to bring us to his headquarters. From his insignia I saw that he held a rank similar to that of colonel. Nowhere that I have been on Venus have I found any differentiation between Army and Navy, and the ranks that I have translated into military titles a Navy man would probably have translated into Navy titles. I like the system, for it certainly simplifies matters of precedence and rank, and makes for a unified fighting force comprising all branches of every service.
Ero Shan and I were taken to a guardhouse and locked up and there ended a day of action, excitement, successes, and reversals; and with it the blasting of my hopes to steal the 975 and prosecute my search for Duare.
XLVIII
The following morning no one came to take us to the officer who had arrested us until after noon, and as we were conducted through the city we saw columns of dejected Falsans marching through the gates of Hor out onto the plains beyond. Our guard told us that Danlot and several other high Falsan officers were being held as hostages until the signing of a peace treaty satisfactory to Panga. In the meantime the remainder of the Falsans were being permitted to depart for home, taking with them two ships loaded with provisions. They were faced with a march of some two thousand miles, with only humiliation and vain regret as their constant companions. Yesterday they had been a victorious army; today they were defeated and disarmed, their entire grand fleet captured by the Pangans.
“I do not envy the next girl who offers one of those men a drink,” remarked Ero Shan.
We were taken to the headquarters of Banat, the yorkokor who had caused our arrest; and he accompanied us to a still higher officer, a lotokor, or general; unless you are a Navy man, in which event you may call him an admiral. Banat explained the circumstances of our arrest, and repeated the statement that I had made to him at the time.
“Where are you from, if you are not from Falsa?” demanded the general. “Perhaps you are from Hangor or Maltor.”
“Ero Shan is from Havatoo,” I explained, “and I am from Korva, which lies beyond the mountain range to the south.”
“There is nothing beyond that mountain range,” said the general. “That is the end of the world. Were you to cross those mountains, you would fall into the sea of molten rock upon which Amtor floats.”
“There are many countries beyond those mountains,” I replied; “and I have lived in several of them ever since I first came to Amtor”
“Since you first came to Amtor!” exclaimed the general. “What do you mean by that? You must have been born on Amtor, and you couldn’t have lived anywhere before you were born.”
“I was not born on Amtor,” I replied. “I was born in a world, which at its nearest approach to Amtor is 26,000,000 miles away.”
“The man is mad,” said the general. “There is no other world but Amtor.”
“I am not so mad,” I replied, “but that I can fight a gun and pilot a ship; and I would like the chance to do that for Panga until I can resume my search for my mate.”
“Your mate? Where is she?”
“She, too, was captured by the Falsans when our anotar was shot down, but she escaped from them the night before they attacked Hor.”
“What is an anotar?” he asked.
“It is a ship that flies in the air,” I replied. “Ero Shan, my mate, and I were trying to reach Korva in it when the Falsans shot us down.”
“A ship that flies in the air!” snorted the general. “First you tell me that you are from another world, and now you tell me that you ride around in a ship that flies in the air. Are you trying to insult my intelligence?”
“Possibly his last statement is true,” said Banat. “I was talking with some of the Falsan officers at the jong’s banquet last night, and they told me of this marvelous invention which they had shot down, in which two men and a woman were riding through the sky.”
“They were drunk,” snapped the general.
“They told me this before they had started to drink,” replied Banat. “I am sure that in this matter the man is speaking the truth.”
“Well, if you want to assume the responsibility for them,” said the general, “you may have them and assign them to such duties as you wish.”
After we left the general I told Banat that I was more familiar with the small scout ships than with any others, and that I had been a prisoner on the 975, which was in the plaza before the palace and that I was perfectly capable of piloting it.
Banat took us to his own home, which seemed strange to me until I discovered that he was tremendously interested in what I had told him about another world than Amtor. He questioned me at length and showed a very intelligent interest in my explanation of our solar system.
“You mean to say that Amtor is a round ball flying around the thing you call the Sun?” he demanded. “And that it turns all the way around every day? Why don’t we fall off when it’s upside down? There’s something, my friend, that you will have hard work explaining.”