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<h2 id="c26">XXVI THE DEBACLE</h2> Myles drew his knife, crouched in a corner of the dark room, and prepared to sell his life dearly. He was ready for searchers who might come groping through the room, but he was wholly unprepared for the sudden switching on of the electric lights. As he sprang to his feet and rubbed his eyes, he saw before him Nan-nan and the sharpshooter whom he had sent back to the plane to get his second radio set. Behind them in the doorway were a score or more of Cupians. Snatching the new set he fastened it in place, while the others waited. Then, articulate once more, “You have come in the nick of time. How did it happen?” <div class="pb" id="Page_207">207</div> The young priest replied, “Through spies of our religion I located Oya Buh; he rounded up a number of his followers, and we hastened hither. The wall we found unguarded, with a rope ladder hanging down, and at its foot six dead soldiers in black togas. We took their arms and mounted the wall, only to be driven back by shots.” “My shots,” Myles interjected. “Not all,” Nan-nan replied, “for some came from the arsenal; we could tell by the flashes. Several of our party were hit—although not by you, so your conscience may feel clear—before we put a stop to this by shooting out all the outside lights. Then we rushed the guardhouse, and here we are. But where are your men?” “Dead—all dead,” the earth-man sadly replied. “Even Buh Tedn.” Oya Buh then stepped forward and greeted his former chief. “Yahoo, Cabot!” he cried. “May the dead rest beyond the waves. We, the living, have work to do. Look—the sky turns pink and silver in the east! Morning has come. What do you propose?” “Morning means that the whistling bees will soon be upon us,” Myles answered. “We must capture the arsenal before they arrive.” The party then took inventory of their supplies. There were thirty-eight rifles, forty Cupians, and Myles Cabot. One man was promptly sent to the roof with crossed sticks. When these were recognized, thirty-eight men under arms were marched up onto the roof as well. It was considered advisable for Cabot himself to keep under cover. Then Oya Buh unbarred the door and stepped out. An officer from the arsenal advanced to meet him. The two gravely patted each other’s cheek. The officer, whose rank was that of pootah, inquired: “What is the idea of defying your king, professor?” <div class="pb" id="Page_208">208</div> “The idea,” Oya replied, “is that we have come to restore Kew XIII to the throne and the Cupians to their proper dominion over the bees. The guardhouse, as you see, is manned by sharpshooters, fully armed. A vast force, unarmed but determined, awaits outside the walls. If you surrender, we shall spare your lives. If not, we shall rush the gates while our sharpshooters pick off any one who opposes, and shall kill all whom we find within. What say you?” The pootah shrugged his shoulders. “What is there to say?” he replied. “We surrender, provided we are given safe conduct.” “Safe conduct without arms?” “Agreed.” So the guard, about a hundred in number, in their black togas, filed out of the arsenal, through the guardhouse, onto the wall, along it, and down the rope ladder. The ladder was then hauled up again. The pootah looked around him. “Where is your vast army?” he asked. “On the other side of the wall,” Oya Buh replied, with a smile. “Now run along away from here, like a good little boy.” But the officer and his followers started circling the wall to investigate. Before he gained the main gate, however, it had been opened and, for all he could tell, the “vast army” had passed inside. A guard stationed there advised him to get out of rifle range as speedily as possible, and twelve sentinels, who by now had manned the wall, bore out this menace; so, grumbling somewhat the pootah led his men off toward the city. Thus did Myles Cabot and forty-seven practically unarmed followers capture the Kuana arsenal from its hundred defenders. Straggling Cupians now began to drift in from the city. These were put to work carting arms and ammunition out of the arsenal and stacking it up in widely separated piles wherever cover could be found. Every Cupian who reported was issued a rifle and a full bandoleer of cartridges. “We may perhaps thus arm some enemies,” Myles admitted, “but we must take the risk. The majority will be friends.” <div class="pb" id="Page_209">209</div> It was well that they removed all the ammunition which they could. It would have been better if they could have removed more. They all worked feverishly for half the morning, even taking the guards off the wall for this purpose, but they had scarcely made a dent in the supplies stored in the arsenal when a fleet of bees appeared on the southern horizon. In spite of the approaching menace, Myles and his men continued to work. The Hymernians flew low straight at the arsenal, until a volley from Cabot’s men brought down two of them and caused the rest to soar into the sky. Whereupon they started dropping bombs on the arsenal, and on the men carting materials therefrom. Naturally, this put an abrupt end to Cabot’s operations. His men scattered as rapidly as possible; and individually made for the city with small quantities of arms, keeping to cover as well as they could. Cupians from Kuana helped themselves to the rest, and by nightfall the captured supplies were pretty well distributed. The arsenal was a smoking ruin. All through the afternoon the bees, flying low, harassed whoever they saw moving on the streets, especially such as were carrying rifles; but these retaliated by firing at all bees that came within range, in spite of which very few bees were killed. Night brought a cessation of this sort of warfare. Emsul arrived and of course at once gave up the idea of his projected peace mission to Yuri. He and Cabot and Nan-nan and Oya Buh spent the night under heavy guard at separated points throughout the city, securing much-needed sleep. Under cover of the darkness, many of their followers foraged in the ruins of the arsenal and secured a surprising quantity of undamaged material, being joined in the morning by the army in kerkools from the north. Before daybreak a resolute band of several thousand loyal Cupians had gathered in the streets and houses surrounding the palace, and promptly at sunrise they launched an attack. They had expected to find the palace guard unarmed; but evidently a large quantity of the rifles and ammunition, which had been distributed throughout the city, had found their way to the palace, for the assault was at once repulsed by heavy fire from the palace guards. <div class="pb" id="Page_210">210</div> As Cabot’s forces reformed for a second attack, they were deluged with explosives from above. The bee-people had evidently not returned to their base at Wautoosa, but had spent the night near by, so as to be on hand to protect the palace. Whenever they sighted even a small group of Cupians, or wherever they had reason to suspect that some building was hostilely occupied, there they would drop one of their devastating bombs. Cabot’s forces were completely at the mercy of the Hymernians. There was but one thing to do—flee. In vain, the earth-man and his able lieutenants tried to rally their troops. What was the use in assembling, when assembly was the signal for a bomb from above? What was the use of attacking the invincible bees? Myles Cabot stood irresolute in one of the public squares. He was as near to despairing as he had ever been in his many vicissitudes on the planet Poros, since his first arrival there five earth-years ago. Oh, if only he had airplanes with which to subdue the Hymernians as in the days of old! Almost was he tempted to return to the vicinity of the arsenal, ascertain whether his one plane was intact, and if so fly alone in a last desperate attempt to give battle to his winged enemies. The more he thought of the plan, the more it appealed to him. There seemed to be no other way out. His bravely engineered revolution had crumbled. If he stayed where he was, he would undoubtedly be tracked down, and put to some ignominious end by the usurper. How much better, then, to die bravely fighting for his Lilla and his adopted country. And his baby? He wondered where the little darling had disappeared to. At least the infant king was out of Yuri’s clutches. <div class="pb" id="Page_211">211</div> So, his mind made up, Myles set out on a run for the wood overlooking the arsenal. After a few paraparths he reached it. There stood his plane. Rapidly he went over all the struts, and stays, and engine parts. Everything appeared to be in first class order. The fuel tanks contained plenty of alcohol. How this machine had escaped capture or destruction was a marvel, but probably the bees had been too busy bombing groups of Cupians, to take the time to explore the apparently deserted grove. Myles sprang aboard and was just about to start the trophil engine, when a familiar sound, smiting upon his earthborn ears, caused him to delay for a moment. From the southward came the purr of many motors. Was the wish the father to the thought? His longing for an air fleet, with which to vanquish the bees, had been so intense; had it affected his mind and caused him to hear things which did not exist? Impossible, for the purr of the motors was unmistakable. He strained his eyes toward the southern horizon, so that they might see what his ears heard; but there was nothing there. The radiant silver sky was untouched save by an occasional small cloud. The bees still kept up their bombing of the city. He could see them flying low over the housetops, and up and down the principal thoroughfares, ferreting out any groups of Cupians who dared to gather in Cabot’s cause, dropping bombs on any houses which presumed to fly the blue pennant of the Kew dynasty in place of the yellow of Yuri. The bees did not heed the approaching planes from the south. Of course not! For the whistling bees of Poros had no ears. They heard with their antennae, and heard only radio waves at that, in fact only short-length radio waves. The noise of a large fleet of airships swept on out of the south. Nearer and nearer it came, until it was right over the city, and still not a single plane appeared in sight. Meanwhile the bees continued their depredations, and the earth-man sat in his own plane and watched and waited. <div class="pb" id="Page_212">212</div> As he watched, he saw one of the bees who happened to be flying higher than the rest, suddenly vanish in a puff of smoke. And then another and another. The Hymernians, too, saw this and rose to investigate, whereat there came the shut-off whir of descending planes. Fascinated, Myles stared into the sky, whence came these sounds, and saw occasionally, against gathering clouds, a glint of silver light. Several more of the ascending bees exploded. And now Myles was able to see from time to time, silhouetted on a background of cloud, the ghostly form of an airship. The bees, too, saw, and flew to the attack. What was this shadow fleet? Had the spirits of the brave Cupian aviators of the past returned to free their beloved country from Hymernian domination? The two fleets, bees and ghostly planes, had now completely joined battle, and were drifting slowly to the southeast. Myles came out of his trance, started his engine, and rose into the air, intent on joining the fray. On his way, he circled over the city, and gave it a glance in passing. Then he gave it a second glance, for the Cupians, relieved of the menace of the bees, were forming for a second attack on the palace. Instantly his plans changed. What business had he running off to watch however interesting a sky battle when right here before him lay a chance to do what he had braved so many misfortunes to accomplish, namely free his Lilla from the unspeakable Yuri! Veering sharply, he landed on one of the upper terraces of the palace. He still wore his bandoleer of cartridges, and still carried his rifle. Filling the magazine, he boldly descended into the building. No one guarded the approaches from the air, for they depended on their aerial allies to do that for them. The upper rooms were deserted, doubtless because the womenfolk were cowering in the basements and because the palace guards and Yuri’s other henchmen were resisting the attack of Cabot’s Cupians at the ground levels. <div class="pb" id="Page_213">213</div> Cabot himself explored the place unimpeded and unchallenged. Here he was at last at his journey’s end, but where was Lilla? Lilla the blue-eyed princess, Lilla of the golden curls, his Lilla! The rooms which he and she had occupied showed every sign of continued and present occupancy, even to the crib of the baby king, emblazoned with the arms of the House of Kew. Cabot looked reverently around the living rooms of his wife and child, and then swept on into the lower levels of the palace. Occasionally he would come upon groups of defenders; but they, naturally assuming that he was one of them—especially as he still wore the black toga of the arsenal guard—gave him but little heed. Whenever the group was not too numerous he would shoot them. He hated to do this, but he knew he had to in order to save his loved ones. Thus he traversed practically the whole of the upper reaches of the palace without encountering his arch enemy Yuri, or any of the womenfolk. Yuri was no coward. However much of a scoundrel he might be, no one would ever accuse him of that. Therefore he was not in hiding. He was apparently not in command of the defense. Therefore he must be either away from the palace, or concocting some devilment. Figuring thus, Cabot continued to descend to levels below the ground floor. While treading these subterranean passages, searching, ever searching for either Lilla or Yuri, he came upon one of the palace guards. The fellow was unarmed, so Cabot did not shoot. Instead he ordered, “Up with your hands.” The guard promptly obeyed. “Now,” said his captor, “the price of your life is to lead me to your king.” “Indeed, I will with pleasure,” the soldier replied with a sneer, “for King Yuri will make short work of one who turns traitor to his black garb.” The earth-man smiled. “I am no traitor,” he announced, “and this black toga is mere borrowed fur. Do you not know Cabot the Minorian?” <div class="pb" id="Page_214">214</div> The other blanched. “Good Builder!” he exclaimed. “We did not believe the story that you had returned from the planet Minos. But I am at your orders, for I am one of the old guard who served under King Kew the Twelfth, the father of Princess Lilla, may he rest beyond the waves.” “Lead on, and no treachery,” Myles curtly replied. “I trust no one who has ever worn the livery of Prince Yuri.” So the guard led the way through many winding passages, down into the very bowels of the subterranean labyrinths of the palace. What could Prince Yuri be doing way down here unless he was hiding, which seemed unlikely? Cabot became very suspicious, and, rifle in hand and finger on trigger, watched his guide with eagle eye. Finally they came upon a form in an elaborate yellow toga, huddled in a corner. “King Yuri,” said the soldier laconically. At the sound of the voice the usurper looked around; and now it became evident that he was crouching there not for fear, but rather because he was engaged in repairing something with a set of typical Porovian queer-looking tools. Apparently not at all surprised, he hailed his deadliest enemy and rival as though the latter were a long lost friend, “Yahoo, Cabot the Minorian. I rather expected you would turn up sooner or later. Just a minute until I fix this wire, and then I will be at your service. You see, one of my mines wouldn’t explode; no one else seemed able to get at the cause of the trouble, and so I had to come down here in person.” And so saying he turned back to his work. Myles stepped forward to see what Prince Yuri was doing. For a brief moment the earth-man’s scientific curiosity got the better of his caution. But that moment, brief as it was, proved long enough for the watchful soldier, who had led him hither, to snatch Myles’ rifle from his hand, and cover him with its muzzle. “Up with your hands!” the soldier peremptorily commanded. Cabot obeyed. Not to do so would have been suicide. <div class="pb" id="Page_215">215</div> Yuri, still unperturbed, remarked, “Well done, Tobo; you shall be promoted for this.” “Shall I shoot him, sire?” Tobo eagerly asked. “N-no,” the usurper ruminated, waving his antennae thoughtfully, “not just now. Wait until I finish with this wire. In the meantime you might let the Minorian lean against the wall, so that he will be more comfortable.” So Myles leaned against the wall and waited, his hands still held high, while the prince puttered around in the corner. Finally, after a seemingly interminable period, Yuri arose, slung his tools together, brushed one hand against the other, and looked at his victim with a cruel smile. “Shall I kill him now?” asked Tobo. “No. I am reserving that pleasure for myself,” the prince replied. Then to Cabot: “At last, you are in my power. I intend to shoot you myself. I intend to shoot you down, unarmed.” Turning to Tobo, the prince asked, “How is our battle going?” “Very well, sire,” the soldier replied. “We are repulsing all assaults, in spite of the departure of the bees to the southward.” A momentary cloud of doubt spread over the sinister handsome visage of Prince Yuri. Then he smiled and said, “Doubtless the bees know what they are about, and will soon return to the fray. So let us proceed with the execution. Follow me!” Myles followed. Almost was he tempted to spring upon his enemy and attempt to throttle him before the inevitable bullet from Tobo could do its work. It would be well worth the sacrifice of his own life to rid Cupia of this incubus. But what if Yuri should survive? No, it would never do to risk this. So he meekly followed. The prince led the way up several levels, until they came to a small circular chamber hung with curtains. At one side was a dais. An electric vapor-lamp on the ceiling furnished the light. <div class="pb" id="Page_216">216</div> Prince Yuri took the rifle from the guard, stood Myles in the center of the room, and sat down himself on the dais. Then he directed Tobo, “Go and summon the Princess Lilla hither, for I wish her to see me kill this lover of hers, this beast from another world.” Myles winced at the mention of his beloved, and thereat his tormentors smiled. The soldier departed on his errand. Yuri toyed with the weapon, and watched his victim, with a sneer on his handsome lips. Myles returned his stare without flinching. “You can put down your hands now, if you wish, you fur-faced mathlab,” the prince remarked. Cabot did so, and instinctively felt of his face. The insult was unwarranted, for he had shaved only that morning. “Don’t go too far!” he admonished his captor. “Remember Poblath’s proverb: ‘You cannot kill a Minorian’.” “I’ve a mind to kill you right now,” the prince replied, “just to prove to you that your friend is wrong.” “Go ahead and try it,” Myles challenged, half hoping that Yuri would take him at his word, and thus spare Lilla the pain of attending the execution. A grim look settled on the usurper’s face as he slowly raised the rifle and pointed it at the earth-man’s right side. “Left side,” Myles admonished. “Remember that my heart is on the other side than is the case with you Cupians.” “My, but you are a cool one!” Yuri admired, shifting his arm as directed. “Now, are you prepared to die?” “Yes,” Myles replied. It all seemed like a dream. It couldn’t be possible that he was really going to die on the far-away planet Venus. Perhaps all his adventures in the skies had been a mere dream, and he was now about to be awakened. “Thus do I bring peace to Poros!” the Cupian sententiously declaimed. His finger closed upon the trigger. The rifle spat fire. <div class="pb" id="Page_217">217</div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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