“That settles it,” said Yaxa. “We’ll get along together, I’m sure.”
“Senator W. L. Marcy of our United States once said, ‘To the victors belong the spoils,’ ” continued Sukune. “We’ll admit for the time being that you are victors and we’re the spoils. Until the situation reverses itself we’ll be model prisoners.”
They gathered in friendly fashion around the television screen and dialed in the image of the asteroid. It appeared half light, half dark, like a moon at the half. They could pick out the roughnesses of mountains, ravines and plains, all made in miniature by clever Martian artisans. They discussed what they saw like real comrades, all enmity apparently forgotten.
When two days had passed they watched the diminishing Earth by television and, sure enough, sighted great clouds of shining specks—the hundreds of flights of spaceships that were taking the ether. They saw how some flew slowly, others swiftly, so that in a short time they had formed into the conventional “curtain front”—an open order formation of three dimensions, roughly disk-like in shape and perpendicular to the line of advance. It was about a thousand miles in diameter and about as thick through as the distance in which three or four ships could fly in single column. Against the black sky it looked like a moving galaxy of runaway stars.
In front of this formation danced several flights of speedy scouts. “Raws and the boys are among those,” said Sukune.
“Don’t the Martians inside the asteroid see that attacking force?” asked Bull Mike. “They can fly away, can’t they? Well, why don’t they?”
“A body of that size could hardly carry enough fuel for a long, sustained trip,” Yaxa explained. “It just boosts itself along occasionally as it follows the orbit to which it is held by the sun’s gravitational pull. That being the case, it could hardly hope to escape from those lighter, further-traveling ships. My companions inside doubtless figure that they might as well face the attack first as last.”
There was something uncanny in the thought of what was being done and decided inside that floating globe, so like a lifeless planetoid and yet the work of mortal hands. Brimful of men and weapons it was destined to destroy whatever of Earth it might.
A month passed. And then another week. Larger and ever larger grew the mock asteroid until it filled a sizeable portion of the television screen that reflected it. At last they swooped down toward it, a great uneven globe the color of clay that spun slowly upon its tilted axis. Lightly as a falling leaf the ship descended. Neil was at the controls inside, while Yaxa sent code messages by radio. A great black opening suddenly appeared. Into this the craft slipped.
It fitted into the end of a long tube, like a nut dropped into a mouse-hole. As it came to a stop Yaxa opened the lock-panel to the outside. At once several Martians, all heavily armed, looked in. At the sight of the Terrestrials they levelled automatic rifles and pistols.
“It’s all right,” said Yaxa. “One of these is a friend, the other two are prisoners.”
Still suspicious, a guard took the four to an officer. There Yaxa made a long report in an undertone. The three Terrestrials were questioned next, one at a time. In the end Sukune and Bull Mike were sent away to be confined.
“As for you,” the officer said to Neil, “I find that you have done a great service to us and that at a great personal sacrifice. Consider yourself one of us. We are prepared to offer you whatever reward you ask within reason.”
“Thank you,” replied Neil. “I know nothing that I would like at present except a chance to inspect your wonderful asteroid.”
“We will gladly grant you such a chance,” he was assured.
Some conversation about the oncoming Terrestrial force then followed, but Neil, a simple scout in rank, was unable to give much information. At last he was allowed to go away with Yaxa, who by this time looked upon him as a close friend.
They walked through long, high corridors, walled with gray metal and flanked by doors opening into compartments of various styles and equipment. Aided by Yaxa’s explanations. Neil was not long in visualizing the whole structure as a series of spherical surfaces, one within another, each surface utilized as the floor of a level. Artificial gravity was set up at the core and elevators and sloping runways permitted the garrison to progress from one level to another.
“Most of all,” said Neil, “I want to view this wonderful mechanism which holds the four parts of your asteroid together.”
“A trifle, nothing but a trifle,” Yaxa replied with a deprecatory gesture. “The principal is a simple magnetic one. The four sections—the fruit slices, I once described them—bring their inner angles together along a common line. That common line is a long, thin cable made of six different kinds of metal, each of the six connected with a special motor at either end. They set up the current among themselves, and the cable acts as the pole of our world.”
“And if the current was cut off?”
“Then the four sections would float apart. But the current will endure as long as the cable is not cut clean in two.”
“Then where is the center of gravity?”
“At the very midpoint of the cable, which is also the center of the asteroid and of each concentric sphere within it.”
“I would greatly like to see this cable,” said Neil again.
“That is the only request I cannot grant you,” the Martian replied. “It is the most sacred, the most jealously fenced object of all. Every foot is guarded by trusted men, each one sworn to defend it with his last drop of blood. Only the commander of this garrison can be admitted to the tubular compartment which surrounds its central emanator of gravity, or to the shops where the motors run. But don’t feel disappointed over such a prohibition. Come, we’ll go to a theater and on the
