As the animal showed no sign of leaving its retreat, Seaton pulled it out with the attractor and it broke for the surface. Rising through the water at full speed, it burst into the air and soared upward to such an incredible height that Seaton was amazed.
“I wouldn’t have believed that anything could fly in air this thin!” he exclaimed.
“It is thin up here,” assented Crane. “Less than three pounds to the square inch. I wonder how he does it?”
“It doesn’t look as though we are ever going to find out—he’s sure a bearcat!” replied Seaton, as the karlon, unable to ascend further, dropped in a slanting dive toward the lowlands of Kondal—the terrible, swampy region covered with poisonous vegetation and inhabited by frightful animals and even more frightful savages. The monster neared the ground with ever-increasing speed. Seaton, keeping close behind it, remarked to Crane:
“He’ll have to flatten out pretty quick, or he’ll burst something, sure.”
But it did not flatten out. It struck the soft ground head foremost and disappeared, its tentacles apparently boring a way ahead of it.
Astonished at such an unlooked-for development, Seaton brought the Skylark to a stop and stabbed into the ground with the attractor. The first attempt brought up nothing but a pillar of muck, the second brought to light a couple of wings and one writhing arm, the third brought the whole animal, still struggling as strongly as it had in the first contest. Seaton again lifted the animal high into the air.
“If he does that again, we’ll follow him.”
“Will the ship stand it?” asked DuQuesne, with interest.
“Yes. The old bus wouldn’t have, but this one can stand anything. We can go anywhere that thing can, that’s a cinch. If we have enough power on, we probably won’t even feel a jolt when we strike ground.”
Seaton reduced the force acting upon the animal until just enough was left to keep the attractor upon it, and it again dived into the swamp. The Skylark followed, feeling its way in the total darkness, until the animal stopped, refusing to move in any direction, at a depth estimated by Crane to be about three-quarters of a mile. After waiting some time Seaton increased the power of the attractor and tore the karlon back to the surface and into the air, where it turned on the Skylark with redoubled fury.
“We’ve dug him out of his last refuge and he’s fighting like a cornered rat,” said Seaton as he repelled the monster to a safe distance. “He’s apparently as fresh as when he started, in spite of all this playing. Talk about a game fish! He doesn’t intend to run any more, though, so I guess we’ll have to put him away. It’s a shame to bump him off, but it’s got to be done.”
Crane aimed one of the heavy X-plosive bullets at the savagely-struggling monster, and the earth rocked with the concussion as the shell struck its mark. They hurried back to the smelter, where Dunark asked eagerly:
“What did you find out about it?”
“Nothing much,” replied Seaton, and in a few words described the actions of the karlon. “What did your savants think of it?”
“Very little that any of us can understand in terms of any other known organism. It seems to combine all the characteristics of bird, beast, and fish, and to have within itself the possibilities of both bisexual and asexual reproduction.”
“I wouldn’t doubt it—it’s a queer one, all right.”
The copper bars were cool enough to handle, and the Skylark was loaded with five times its original supply of copper, the other vessel taking on a much smaller amount. After the Kofedix had directed the officer in charge to place the remaining bars in easily-accessible places throughout the nation, the two vessels were piloted back to the palace, arriving just in time for the last meal of the kokam.
“Well, Dunark,” said Seaton after the meal was over, “I’m afraid that we must go back as soon as we can. Dorothy’s parents and Martin’s bankers will think they are dead by this time. We should start right now, but …”
“Oh, no, you must not do that. That would rob our people of the chance of bidding you goodbye.”
“There’s another reason, too. I have a mighty big favor to ask of you.”
“It is granted. If man can do it, consider it done.”
“Well, you know platinum is a very scarce and highly useful metal with us. I wonder if you could let us have a few tons of it? And I would like to have another faidon, too—I want to see if I can’t analyze it.”
“You have given us a thousand times the value of all the platinum and all the jewels your vessel can carry. As soon as the foundries are open tomorrow we will go and load up your storerooms—or, if you wish, we will do it now.”
“That isn’t necessary. We may as well enjoy your hospitality for one more sleeping-period, get the platinum during the first work-period, and bid you goodbye just before the second meal. How would that be?”
“Perfectly satisfactory.”
The following kokam, Dunark piloted the Skylark, with Seaton, Crane, and DuQuesne as crew, to one of the great platinum foundries. The girls remained behind to get ready for their departure, and for the great ceremony which was to precede it. The trip to the foundry was a short one, and the three scientists of Earth stared at what they saw—thousands of tons of platinum, cast into bars and piled up like pig-iron, waiting to be made into numerous articles of everyday use throughout the nation. Dunark wrote out an order, which his chief attendant handed to the officer in charge of the foundry, saying:
“Please have it loaded at once.”
Seaton indicated the storage compartment into which the metal was to be carried, and a procession of slaves, two men staggering
