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Volume 8318

MOON MAID AT THE EARTH'S CORE by ANDY NUNEZ

CHAPTER EIGHT - WAR OF THE WORLDS

None of my training in the Army Air Corps prepared me for the things I had experienced in Pellucidar, the world at the Earth's center. Nothing I had gone through in Pellucidar up to this point prepared me for my visit with David Innes, the Emperor of Pellucidar (though, in fact, his empire encompassed but a fraction of the Inner World). I accompanied the huge warrior king Ghak the Hairy one, while Lightning followed at my heel. Giuseppe was being taken to a hospital. I still smile when I think of the sight we made. Even in the savage world of Pellucidar, the natives of Sari gave Lightning a wide berth. For his part, the tarag growled menacingly, but I could tell by the look in his eye that he was enjoying himself making the gilaks cringe.

As I have said, the city of Sari is a hodgepodge of buildings seemingly from various eras, but I was to learn that different styles of buildings were produced as builders and architects gained knowledge of new techniques. Stucco and brick buildings crowded mud huts. The broad ribbon of the railroad bisected the town, and cobblestone roads radiated from its bustling railroad yard. On a small rise dominating the city was a tall building of roughly dressed stone. By its grandeur and the number of fur-clad guards who marched around carrying their incongruous muskets, I knew it had to be the palace of David Innes.

Barbaric as they were, the guards saluted smartly as Ghak approached. He was admitted through large doors of polished wood, and there met a runner who went ahead to alert the Emperor. Presently, this worthy returned to inform Ghak that David Innes would see us immediately. I was pleased, but felt self-conscious and tried to straighten my soiled and tattered uniform as best I could. Admonishing Lightning to be on his best behavior, we followed Ghak through another set of brass-valved polished doors.

I expected the furnishings of an Emperor's throne room to be elaborate and gaudy, full of tapestries, with lots of ornaments and valuable items jammed into various corners, but the court of David Innes was unlike anything I would have imagined. It was more like a study, or vast library, than a royal throne room. The walls were covered with a dark, cherry wood paneling. Long side tables were sandwiched between tall bookcases. The tables were neatly piled with charts and drawings, or instruments and writing materials. The bookcases were full of hide-bound manuscripts, except for one very near the throne, which contained a set of books in cloth and leather bindings that must have come from the surface. David Innes' throne appeared to be the only sop to grandeur. Its back was some six feet, padded by thick and wonderfully marked furs, and from it erupted arms and legs carved to look like the claws of some beast. Two warriors dressed in polished leather, carrying steel-shod spears and pistols flanked their Emperor, who was discussing matters with a muscular warrior seated on a stool and the Emperor's left hand.

My first glimpse of David Innes as his head came up gave me little sense of the man who had conquered territory the size of the United States in less than 40 years. As he sat back to surmise me, though, I could see in his carriage and keenly intelligent face that rare combination of brains and determination, a combination that could forge an empire from scattered tribes of cavemen. Age had not lightened his hair, though I knew him to be over sixty, and he seemed no older than myself. He was dressed in leather, but with cloth undergarments. On a tray beside his throne sat a pitcher and cups and in their shadow was a small pistol more advanced than the flintlocks of his guards.

"So this is the man from above," he said to Ghak in the language of Pellucidar.

I bowed. "I am Byron Jasper Wells, your Majesty, late of the United States Army Air Force." I switched to the common tongue. "I have come here on a matter of grave urgency."

"You have my attention," Innes said. "You may also drop the formal stuff. I never liked the high-falutin' mummery that I am forced to employ to visiting chiefs - my friend Thoar of Zoram excepted, that is." He winked at his companion who grinned wolfishly. "Thoar is familiar with men from the surface, especially Americans, since his brother-in-law is of our breed."

"Jason Gridley, I presume," I said.

Thoar nodded. "A brave warrior. I fought at his side against monster and monstrous men. I would have no less to wed my sister. I hope you have better luck with flying machines than he."

"So far, so good," I told him. I turned to David Innes. "What can I get away with calling you, then?"

"David will be fine, amongst fellow Americans," he said. "Thoar is an honorary one by marriage."

"Very well," I continued. "Let me brief you on how I got here and what your immediate problem will be." I gave a short account from my advent in Pellucidar to the present, giving more detail as regards the men from the moon and their plans. David asked no questions, but listened closely. When I finished, he sat back and took a drink from his cup. He poured a cup for me, which I gratefully accepted, finding it to be a too-sweet fruit juice of some sort.

"One thing that I have always been able to count on is superior technology," David Innes said. "Against the pirates of Korsar my muskets were longer-ranged and more accurate, my rail system allows rapid troop movements to any part of the Empire to meet incursions; though, gladly, the necessity of same has been minor during recent days." Innes actually said "sleeps many" which appears to be a Pellucidarian term for "a long time."

Emperor Innes concluded, "Abner Perry's aircraft experiments were unsuccessful, but I believe he will succeed eventually."

"Time, however it is measured here, is not on his side," I pointed out. "The Race, as they call themselves, have planes that work very well. They also have airships and automatic weapons. While inferior to the weapons currently being used in the outer world, these machines and armament could bomb and strafe any army you could field and do so beyond your weapons' range."

Innes frowned for a moment, digesting the information. Almost as an aside he revealed, "Perry is designing a submarine, but it wouldn't sink. From what you have told me I believe Abner should speak to you and Giuseppe. He is at his workshop now, I suppose." Innes revealed something more in his next question. "How is your friend?"

"He will live, but he will take a while to heal. He is an engineer and, if I may say so, makes excellent technical drawings."

"Let him rest for now. Come, take a walk with me." The Emperor rose, as did Thoar of Zoram. David Innes led the way, with Ghak and the two guards included, following behind. He motioned for me to walk at his side.

"Tell me what's going on up there," he nodded up toward the sky. "It's been many sleeps since I heard from Gridley and Ed. I know that many outer world years have passed. Time means little in Pellucidar, no matter how ardently Perry and I have tried to introduce the concept. But what I have heard as rumors from various parts of the empire where those like you have entered the Inner World is there's a war on the surface."

"That's an understatement, sir. The Germans are intent on conquering the world and are allied with the Italians and Japanese. The Axis hurt us badly the last two years, both in Europe and the Pacific, but we've stopped their expansion. God willing, we will have them licked in a couple of years. This is a new kind of war, David. Ships and submarines and airplanes doing a lot of damage."

"The same thing could happen here." Innes indicated my P-38 as we passed close. "What could that thing do to Sari?"

"Fully fueled and with full ammmunition I could smash your palace flat with 200 rounds," I stated. "With the remaining ammunition, I could kill multiple dozens of your men. If I had bombs on the aircraft's hard points I could level a block or two. In seconds."

Innes frowned a second time. Rubbing his chin, the emperor said, "It sounds terrible, like some of the Barsoomian reports of aerial battle that Ed wrote about. Jason had some Burroughs' reports on his dirigible that he left with me. I have them back at the palace with the books I brought with me on my return trip. I confess these reports always sounded like fantasy."

"Believe me, sir, whatever you might think, on the surface we have tens of thousands planes fighting and bombing. Millions have died so far in this war. Even in your time the bow and arrow had been surpassed. The Crimean War in 1854 was a simple school-yard brawl compared to the American Civil War or World War I. The surface world is engaged in World War II, with the unhappy aspect of thirty years of advanced technology included. Killing 20 at a blow was considered excellent in 1850, killing 12,000 in an action was general in WWI, but today, sir, killing 35,000 to 50,000 or more in a single air attack is routine."

I had Innes' attention. We spoke no more before arriving at Perry's workshop, which was a large ramshackle building about the length of two football fields. Smoke issued from every crack and clanks and bangs filled the air. There was a sharp explosion, then silence, then I could hear a high-pitched stream of American expletive that went on for some seconds without a word repeated. David put his hand on the knob of a small door in the front of the building.

"Perry is a gentle soul, and very religious," David said. "However, he does get perturbed occasionally."

Inside the building was a combination of wizard's lair and Dante's inferno. Worktables lay at odd angles, piled with parts and drawings. Large sections of works in progress lay in rows along the walls. At the rear of the complex was a giant steam engine that ran a set of pulleys which animated various apparatus, a confusing complex of equipment, saws, lathes, drills, etc. A burst pipe was the cause of the explosion and the breakdown. Haranguing two burly workmen stripped down to loincloths because of the heat was the diminutive figure of Abner Perry, an almost trite example of a man who was endowed with a shock of snowy white hair.

"Perry!" David called. "We have a visitor."

The scrawny little man turned. I saw that his wizened face was black with soot from the explosion, which gave him a comical appearance. Perry smiled as he recognized his friend. "David, my boy!" Abner Perry exclaimed. "I have something to show you." His teeth gleamed in his sun-bronzed countenance.

Perry led us to a table which contained a humped shape under a woven covering. With a jubliant flourish Perry removed the covering to reveal a long rifle on a stout bipod support. The barrel curved sharply left, and included a mirror that was positioned on the curve.

"Looks like it warped during cooling," David said.

"Humph!" Perry snorted. "The shape is intentional, gentlemen. What you see before you will be a revolution in warfare. A gun that shoots around corners. A warrior no longer has to expose himself needlessly. He can use the mirror to see what is around the corner, then fire from cover."

"I see," David said, giving the weapon a dubious look. "We do experience a little fighting around buildings from time to time, Perry. Does it work?"

"Of course it works!" Perry said. "Though, I haven't tested it, it should work - in theory, that is. I have placed a target on the left wall." He indicated a scraped skin with a large circle drawn on its surface. "I simply line up my target in the mirror." He bent down, placed a cartridge in the breech (Besides David's pistol, this was the first breech loading weapon I had seen). "Then I pull the trigger." He squinted at the mirror while we all made sure that we were crouched a bit also. Perry squeezed the trigger and the rifle bucked. It bucked pretty hard, tilting the weapon off its bipod. The bullet missed the target and ricocheted off the wall to graze a dark line across one his assistant's posterior. We all hit the floor until the bullet's energy was spent.

David got up and dusted off his outfit. "Powerful, Perry," he admonished. "Too powerful. It looks like a good theory, but way too heavy. Perhaps a smaller version. I want to introduce you to Byron Wells. He is from America and comes with news, good and bad." Innes gave a short account of my encounter with the Race.

"How do you defend against air attacks up there?" Perry asked, brushing off a table to find some writing materials.

"Well, attack fighters are the best defense," I said. "Shooting down the enemy bombers before the aircraft reaches the target is the primary goal. We do use high-velocity cannons and machine guns in static positions around important installations, as well as fighter aircraft designed to hunt the bombers, but heavy bombers can avoid the ack-ack and can, occasionally, neuteralize the fighter aircraft."

Perry was about to launch into a thousand questions when Innes spoke. "What about this contraption of yours, Perry?" Innes gestured toward Perry's latest "wonder weapon" to fail. "The shell looks heavy enough to damage a plane. Can you speed up the rate of fire? What range?"

I, too, was interested in the inventor's answer as I examined one of the cartridges. The shell was over five inches in length and the more than a half-pound projectile was as thick as my little finger, very close to the .50 calibre rounds in my P-38.

Perry rubbed his chin, his brow in a contemplative frown. "I would have to keep the barrel straight. We'd have to test it, my boy, but I would not be surprised if the rifle has and effective range of two miles—maybe more." Perry paused, digging through a stack of drawings on his work bench.

Perry spread two diagrams on the desk for our view. "I started working on a design like the 1862 Gatling gun which is a gravity fed rack of 20 bullets with a two man fire rate of up to 300 rounds per minute, but this was with six revolving barrels. A weapon like this would be too much for even two men to transport. When I figured out a recoil ejection system a single barrel weapon made more sense, much like the 1908 Maxim machine gun, but I must confess, lad, I have not figured out how to feed a quantity of shells rapidly enough. I can, of course, use a gravity fed rack, but gravity will not keep up with the rifle's potential firing rate."

I grinned. "You're on the right track, Mr. Perry. May I suggest two possibilities? The first would be a 'rack'—we call them 'magazines' or 'clips' on the surface world. The clip is fed by a compressed spring and does not depend on gravity to feed the next round. The second suggestion is a link belt advanced by rotary action from the shell exhaust."

For a moment Abner Perry's eyes grew round as saucers, then narrowed with concentration as soon as his agile brain grasped the vague concepts. "A spring! Brilliant. Good for small arms and..."

David grinned, affectionately gripping the older man's shoulder. "Can it be done?"

Perry, so excited by the possibilities, had to take a deep breath to calm himself. "Yes."

"Then do it," David laughed.

Nodding, I continued. "My friend Giuseppe is an engineer. He's not an inventor, but he's damn good with his hands and making things happen. I am sure he will be a great help to you, when he recovers. I captured some pistols from the Race. I will give you one to disassemble and copy. The weapons are either semi-automatic or full automatic, I am not sure which. Giuseppe can design aircraft and airships for you, as well as machinery. He developed a method of refining crude oil into gasoline. He can also tell you about the other weapons we use on the surface to kill each other, like tanks and flame-throwers and poison gas."

"What about you, my boy," Perry said, "I am sure you have a lot of knowledge also."

"I'm no slouch," I admitted without embarrassment, "but I have always been a man of action rather than a builder. Perhaps one day you can pick my brain, but for now I must go, Mr. Perry." My thoughts turned grim. "My mate is a prisoner of the Mahars."

This utterance was the first time I clearly realized Ee-na-lah was my mate, if she would have me! To say those words thrilled me beyond belief, yet I maintained a pleasant poker face as I took Perry's hand in mine. "I am going to Phutra to get her back, sir, even if I must tear through the rubble stone by stone. When I am done I will come back to help you and David fight the Race."

David Innes clapped a sun-bronzed hand to my shoulder. "Well said, Bryon!"

Innes threw an arm about my shoulder and Perry's and led us out of the workshop. "Just like the old days, eh, Abner? Bryon off to rescue his Dian, Damn the Torpedoes, Full Speed Ahead!"

Abner Perry offered a polite chuckle. "David, my boy, there are no old days, just today," and the old man jerked his thumb toward the Pellucidarian zenith. "You are an incorrigible romantic. I have only one question to ask, are you going to let Mr. Wells undertake this rescue alone? You do remember what it was like when you had to rescue Dian, don't you?"

Innes did not lose his smile. "I love you, Abner. I have not forgotten a thing. In fact, I believe I might have learned a thing or two over the last day," the last word was expressed in such a manner that we all knew the eternal noon of Pellucidar was referenced. In a softer tone, as he released us as we walked through the street back to the palace, Innes explained his comment. "Abner, these are different winds and I fear we are ill-equipped to deal with them. Bryon brings a warning and he also brings some practical technology—whatever he knows or his Italian friend knows. Bryon, I pray you will allow us time to get answers to questions before you depart. Perry, make the best of this time because Mr. Wells will not long wait. He has a ship that can make his rescue possible, yet, in the meantime we have to maximize every concept he can express if we are to deal with this new threat. I'll reveal a truth, which I believe both of you can instantly grasp: I am Emperor of Pellucidar by the skin of my teeth. I'm not so vain to believe this rank was acquired because of my good looks or my military accumein. I'm not an idiot, but I'm not a god-in-earth with all the answers."

I nearly bent double when Innes slapped my back with a laugh. I had to grip the thick fur of Lightning's nape to squash the growl the sabertooth uttered believing I had been attacked.

Abner sputtered. "But you are the Emperor, my boy! I am as proud of you as if you were my own son! I—"

Innes gripped the older man's shoulder, almost painfully. In a low voice, David grinned. "Just ask Dian how wonderful or emperorly is her husband."

Abner's face split with a huge grin. "Yes, sir, your majesty, your hen-pecked." To me Perry said with sincerity, "We will not delay you, but if you find it possible to share information, we would be most pleased."

Innes strong hand gripped the back of my neck and shook gently. "What about it, Bryon?"

"One sleep," I replied, how could I refuse? "One sleep for me and the kitty cat."

David smiled, shaking me again with enthusiasim. "I will have the royal cartographer get you a set of maps for your journey while we talk. And the royal cook will fill your belly with delights gastronomical."

"Very well," I assented, "but I think we might accomplish more if we include my friend Giuseppe."

"The honor is mine," David said. He turned to Ghak, who had been with us all along, courteously in the background. "Ghak, have plenty of food brought for us, and some raw meat for this tarag, and join us with your captains. On second thought, feed this tarag first." Innes looked at Lightning brushing close against my leg, my free hand caressing the great beast's head. "Bryon's pet looks hungry and I fear we cannot spare a single body with a war coming."

"This 'war' sounds dishonorable," Ghak snorted. I stepped aside as the burly figure approached Innes, his large fist wrapped about the hilt of a pistol.

Ghak, primitive he might have once been, was not without intelligence. "Flying machines that kill us from so high up we cannot fight them. Rifles that fire at high rates. Invaders from the Pendant Moon. This is no kind of war for us, David. We only have his word that such a war is coming."

Innes calculated amusement did not completely vanish, but when he spoke to the King of Sari he spoke directly without obfuscation. "We must find a way, though, old friend, for I do not doubt the report of danger." David laid a firm hand on Ghak's hairy shoulder. "The question is simple. We ignore the warning, and are conquered, or we embrace the warning and are merely ready for something which might not materialize. We cannot be hurt with the latter, and with the latter we can minimize the former if that happens. I'd rather be ready too much than not ready at all. What do you think, Ghak?"

A heartbeat only passed before the King of Sari departed through the palace corridors calling for cooks and mapmakers.

Perry commenced picking my brain as we drank sweet fruit juices on a veranda. The old man, however inept he initially appeared, was sharp as a tack and had a good hand for drawing plans as we chatted. We were all empty of belly when Ghak returned.

"The physician says the Etalan should not be moved. Shall I have lunch sent to his quarters?"

"By all means," Innes said, rising.

We made our way to the large hut inside the palace grounds where Giuseppe lay on a bed of furs where three young females tended his wounds. He tried to rise as we entered, but one girl held him back with a slim hand.

"Hey, mi amici," Giuseppe said upon recognizing me. "This is not so bad, eh? Pretty girls running their hands all over me. This is everyman's dream, eh? To regret is, I cannot do anything about it!"

"How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Bene, bene," Giuseppe waved a neglient hand, but stoically grimaced as the attentive girls ministered to him. "My wounds they say are clean. They stitch and sew and put some native matter to supposed is to pass for anti-septic. Who are your friends?"

I made introductions and brought Giuseppe up to date. "I leave you in good hands," I said. "Behave yourself, amico. These Belladona are maidens of mercy and not angels to sate your desire of mercy of woman," I winked.

"Che cosa 衱uesto? What is this?" Giuseppe asked as servants arrived with trays of meat and fruits.

"Ci򠨠un pranzo con la sovranitଠil mio amico. Imperatore Innes, Inventore Perry and Re Ghak. Lunch with royals, Giuseppe. Your langage has invaded my speach these last days."

Giuseppe laughed, and the laughter caused him pain from his wounds, but his eyes were bright a clear and highly amused. "There is only one day, amico. You must be the—what you say?—il idiot savant imparare così¡´anto in un giorno."

We brought Giuseppe up to speed during the meal. After appetites were sated my Italian friend said, "Well, that's okay, but you must be careful. You cannot dimiss with the Mahar. You see him reptile you shoot first then ask the questions, eh? Well, down to business. You, Signore Perry, tell me about the airplane design you got going."

Perry gave the Italian a detailed report of how the project had worked. The esoteric aspects were lost on me because my concept of aerodynamics is too recent, and too unnessary as a prerequiste to fly a fighter aircraft in battle, but Giuseppe laughed so hard upon hearing Abner's ardent presentation that he had to cough and the girls fussed at him, fearing he would bust a stitch.

"You better stick to stuff that stays on the ground, Professore," Giuseppe laughed. You the thing construct it will probably fly backwards."

"Well - er - well, it did," Perry said with embarrassment.

"Do not worry," Giuseppe said with a wink to me. "I make it soar like the eagle. However, we need to have how they say, mass production. Byron describes these craft as lightweight, made of wood or fabric like in the war of my youth. I have an idea or two of things we can do if they attack before we build planes."

I finished eating and lingered over a juice drink which had a kick, perhaps a crude wine or a fermented beer or mead I had never encountered before. I left as Perry, taking notes, and Giuseppe seemed to hit full stride. A moment later David, Thoar, and Ghak joined me in light of the eternal sun. Each of them smiled regarding the intensity of the two still inside the hut.

Before I could say a word about my eagerness to depart, Innes said, "You need a sleep. I have private quarters prepared for you. By the time you wake, you will have maps and provisions. Please do not be as stupid as I have been in my past—embark rested. You will have a better chance of success than flying of semi-delirious from lack of sleep."

I was showed to a dark appartment with an inviting set of furs. I was fagged out. I was stumbling on my feet. I—shook their hands and the head honchos of Pellucidar departed. No sooner had they left did the combination of good food and exhaustion began to overwhelm me. Lightning stretched himself before the entrance of the hut. I fell asleep as soon as I lay down on the furs.