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Volume 8319

MOON MAID AT THE EARTH'S CORE by ANDY NUNEZ

CHAPTER NINE — FLIGHT TO PHUTRA

I don't know how long I slept, the sun was still in the same place it had been when I lay down inside the hut. I woke up refreshed and looked outside. While I slept, a human guard had been added. He took off when I awoke, presumably to tell the Emperor that I was up and about. The hut was furnished with plenty of fresh water, so I cleaned up as best I could. Lightning growled a warning, and I turned to find a large delegation approaching. Several men carried bundles. I went to the door and greeted them before Lightning had time to decide whether to eat them or not.

The foremost bowed and indicated the bearers.

"His Majesty the Emperor bids you accept these small tokens of his appreciation for having warned us of the threat to our kingdom," he said.

Some carried platters of fruit, cheese and breads, while others carried packages of clothing. No doubt David Innes had taken pity on my sorry rags. I untied the bundles to find an assortment of cloth shirts and trousers. At least I would not be forced to wear furs. I picked out some items that I believed would fit and ducked back inside to try them on. I was satisfied with a comfortable cotton shirt and pants. One package contained a leather vest and a belt. The vest had pockets, something that the shirt lacked, so I donned it, and looped the belt in my trousers. The belt had snaps and loops of its own, so I could hang my pistol, plus one of the fancy automatics I had acquired, and my survival knife. I stuffed my pockets with cartridges for my carbine and the pistols, then sat down beside Lightning and ate a decent breakfast. Lightning was brought a carcass of some kind of primitive deer to feast on. The clothes and meal perked me up considerably, so I sent word by this delegation how much I appreciated these gifts, and that I was preparing to depart.

Lightning and I walked to my P-38, and found another set of men with small charts of what was known of Pellucidar. These maps emphasized landmarks and distance, since time and direction had no meaning here. Also, there were some dried provisions and some canteens. While I was checking over the plane and trying to calculate if I had enough fuel, I heard my name and turned to find Giuseppe walking slowly toward me, aided by a stick and wearing some lightweight clothing.

"You clean up pretty good," I told him. "First time I have seen you in something other than skins. "But say, shouldn't you be in bed? When I left you, you couldn't even sit up."

"Ha!" He snorted. "Since I last saw you, I dwelled in paradise, eating from the hands of my lovely nurses, and having my wounds cleaned and treated continuously. I slept several times, and, while sore, I feel pretty good. They gave me these clothes, and I started working on things for this Abner Perry. He's pretty crazy, you know, but it's a good crazy. I look at some of his plans, and Dio Mio! They don't make much sense sometimes. He had this formula for poison gas, and I think he could sell it to Air-Wick. It smelled pretty good, anyway. They sent word you are going for the girl."

"I should have left before sleeping. Sounds like a week went by."

"Who knows? This is Pellucidar. While you nap, I could have gone to Korsar and back. Time makes no sense here. I came to get one of those peashooters. I figure if one bunch can make it down here, then I can make it. I also got some ideas for air defense. I am glad you told me about how this war up top is fought. You come back, maybe I surprise you."

"Finding Ee-la-nah is the only thing I am worried about now," I said. "I've got to go. Here is one of the Race's pistols. It's loaded, so be careful. Look, do you think we could fly to the moon?"

"It's only a mile from the surface. I don't know how thin the air is, but Ee-la-nah breathes down here fine, so it should be OK. Even one plane like yours can't fight all they must have, though. You be careful."

"I will. Now go and design a flying battleship or something that will sweep the Race from the sky."

He grinned and we shook hands.

I opened up the canopy and Lightning jumped in, taking his place behind me. I stowed some of the food in one of the booms, keeping the water and a snack for us both up front. I made sure everything was fine and climbed aboard. With a last word to Giuseppe about synthesizing motor oil and lubricants in addition to fuel, I closed the canopy and checked my instruments. The engines fired beautifully.

I knew, though, as I taxied along, that without a complete overhaul, my plane would not work perfectly forever. It still had bullet holes and brass parts machined on lathes made by the Mahars. I thought back on what I knew of the Mahars. Once, they dominated this part of Pellucidar, dwelling in many cities. Phutra, however, seemed to be their capitol, and it was there that David Innes stole their Great Secret. He had been forced to return it in exchange for Dian the Beautiful. Later, the Mahars had been defeated by Emperor Innes human armies and most of the Mahar cities were wrecked by dropping kegs of black powder into their entrances. The intelligent giant flying reptiles had promised to head for wilder parts of the continent and leave humans in peace. Whether the Great Secret was destroyed with Phutra was unknown. David Innes last encountered them when they sought his protection from the Korsars.

Phutra lay some 375 miles or so east of Sari by the map I was given. It was, in fact the easternmost point of reference on the lumpy peninsula that also contained Sari and Greenwich. Beyond it was the Lural Az and its chains of islands. Phutra was just north of the tip of the Mountains of the Clouds, and South of a large lake or inland sea. I flew in a straight line, constantly watching the skies. I kept the mixture lean, flying high and taking every advantage to save fuel. I knew what amount of fuel was needed to make the return leg back to Sari with Ee-la-nah. It was going to be close.

It was over an hour before I saw the inland sea. Beyond it I could see the great wheel shape of Phutra, which, like the other Mahar city I had visited, looked more like an inlaid pattern than a city, since it was mostly underground. From the air, I easily saw the destruction wrought by David Innes. Whole sections of the city were collapsed downward in soft heaps reclaimed by the jungle. Amid the radiating paths that led to the ancient watchtowers that bespoke mightier times for the flying reptiles, I was chagrined to see two black cross shapes of Race aircraft. Worse, three more were taking off!

I had a definite height advantage, and hoped that they did not see me. Three to one odds were bad enough, but five to one could have only one outcome. I waited for the black craft to pass beneath me, and then I did a wing over and curved down to the planes still on the ground. The pilots were just climbing in when I buzzed down. A short burst from the machine guns sent them spinning away. The impact on one craft broke it in half. I didn't waste further ammunition since the planes were useless without their pilots. I looked up, expecting to see the others turn to attack me, but, to my surprise, they continued on in a southwesterly directly, by my best guess.

It would take a lot of fuel to catch them, so I reluctantly let them escape and continued on my primary mission. I found the area near the Race's planes to be flat enough, so I set my own crate down. Lightning was out almost before I could finish pushing back the canopy. I snatched up my carbine and followed closely. The big cat checked the two enemy pilots, but my bullets had done their work. One of the planes actually looked flyable, but the other was wrecked. I marveled at how the Race handled these flimsy things, little more substantial than Japanese lanterns. My Japanese analogy reminded me of the nimble A6M Zero fighter that had given our heavier Brewster fighters fits until we could match the Nipon aircraft with newer models.

However, I felt the real analogy was the more ancient planes that were used in the Great War. The Race was still experimenting, and I hoped we could defeat them before they could perfect their war machines. I spent no more time, other than to grab a couple of clips for the little automatic from the nearest pilot's belt and stuffed them in my vest. I pointed at the body to Lightning.

"Find where they went!" I told him. "Find Ee-la-nah!"

Lightning almost nodded as if he understood, and leaped away, bounding toward an intact tunnel entrance. I followed as best I could, hoping that the Mahar's illumination system had not been wrecked. I was somewhat reward by a dim half-light when I got to the bottom of the ramp. I looked around, seeing the same neglect that I found in the other city. Dust told a tale, though, and I could see the new booted prints of the Race clearly. They overlaid, though, older tracks, the splayed talons of the Mahar, and the smaller, softer spoor that could only have been Ee-la-nah's.

The tracks went through a vast arena, where I could picture David Innes' struggle with the wild Beasts of Pellucidar, and the surging crowds when chaos broke loose in the stands. The light was better here, and I could see a shaft of real light across the arena, where the prints went. I found the passageway half-clogged, but I could clamber over after slinging my carbine. In this close area I found the tiny automatic of the Race to be easy to handle. The prints became sparse amid the rubble, and I made a couple of wrong turns, even with Lightning, before we got back on track.

The way grew narrower, and Lightning stopped abruptly before a pile of brass cartridges and a great splash of blood. The stench sickened me, but I pressed on, pistol ready. Farther down, I found the corpse of one of the race, uniform ripped by diagonal marks. It appeared that he had been smashed against the wall, killed by the force of impact, to lie in a heap. Blood and cartridges trailed on until I came to a larger room. It was dimmer here, full of tables and cabinets. Strange devices littered the room, and Lightning growled as a scraping sound came from one corner. Pistol ready, I crept forward.

I made out a large, bulky shape amid a smear of blood. It had propped itself beside a low table, and I could see its red eyes faintly shining. I approached slowly, now hearing a soughing wheeze. Black blood speckled its form, rivulets traveling down its leathery wings. Though all Mahars appear similar, I needed no better light to realize that this was the Mahar from the north, who had escaped with Ee-la-nah. He hissed when I approached, but I put away the pistol and held up my hands. He raised his head slightly, as if acknowledging who I was, and snaked one wing-caped forearm across the table. It snatched up a device which it placed over its head and put some part of it near its throat. For all the world, it looked like a complex version of an operator's headset. The Mahar depressed a stud and a soft glow emanated from some parts of this bizarre headgear. It moved its mouth, and suddenly, I could hear the common tongue of Pellucidar emanate from its device!

"The scientists of Phutra were working on this before they were bombed," it croaked in sepulchral tones. "They recognized after David Innes that humans did possess an intelligence. What irony! After untold generations, we learn that the gilaks have brains as quick as our own. Their weapons, I fear, are certainly much deadlier."

"Where is Ee-la-nah?" I demanded.

The thing let out a mournful whistle, and its eyes blazed. "The she? I took her with me, so that you would not molest me while I searched the ruins here. I had no intention of eating her. She could translate my thoughts, too valuable a tool to be devoured. I found other things to satisfy my hunger, and shared them with her. The other gilak, he tried to stop me. I could not permit this."

"Now I know what Ee-la-nah meant when she told me how cold your thoughts were," I said. "You are like a machine, with no feeling, only logical decisions."

"Trust me, this is not the lubricant of a machine spilling from me," It said, leaving me with a strong impression it released a sigh of regret. "We Mahars have our emotions, and our pleasures, but you would not understand."

"I have seen the heaps of skulls. I understand too well. Where is she?"

"I was looking for the One Book, the Great Secret. You understand that the book is sacred to all Mahars. I believe it was lost in the bombing. She helped me, and promised not to run away. No hard decision, since I could have caused her unbearable mental anguish. I located this room, and saw that the others of my race were trying to figure out how to communicate with humans without benefit of Sagoths. This trinket was one such experiment. I found these other records" - it indicated a pile of leather bound books on the table beside it," - and they told me of the history of our race, about the discovery of the Great Secret, and the Schism from Males. We were investigating when the small gilaks appeared. Ee-la-nah, as much as she hated me, did not want to go with them. She recognized their leader."

"Jehoida!" I snarled. "Go on."

"I found that they could communicate their thoughts to me," it revealed. "They demanded the she, in return for my life. They wondered about the machines, and offered to allow me to live on the moon. I found the idea of being subservient to gilaks absurd, and decided that they were tastier than thags. You often warned me about the power of your weapons. I should have paid them more respect. I did manage to kill one, and wound another. The power of those things of yours! I feel my life ebbing away, to join the river of beings to the End of Things."

"It was a noble act, to try to protect her," I said.

"It was purely in my self-interest," it replied. "I needed her. Do not overlay your gilak ways on me. Its all for naught, anyway. The Great Secret is buried. The only hope is to return to the beginning, to the land of Mahar'ktari, where we left the males of our kind. It was a primitive existence, compared to the later achievements. We were little better than thipdars, dominated by the males. The Secret and the Schism changed all that forever."

"For what its worth, I'm sorry," I said.

It slumped and the pile of books fell, one sliding open in a cloud of dust. I saw a drawing on one vellum-like sheet, a map. It showed the great Peninsula that contained all the Empire of Pellucidar, but the indications were in the writing of the Mahars. Beyond a sea to the west, beyond mountains and jungles, there was another country, marked in the Mahar script. The dying creature noted my interest.

"Mahar'ktari," it whispered. "Lend me the air of your wings, my ancestors, as I rush to join you! Farewell, gilak. After all this, I am still unsure who the real monster is, I and my ways, or those of you who use these terrible weapons."

With that, the light died from its eyes, and its head fell forward. I stood and regarded the corpse for a moment, and the small pile of books for which it had kidnaped the woman I loved. I felt a small trace of pity for the strange creature as I knelt down to lift one of the small books. Examining the pages in the dim light I wondered what knowledge might these volumes contain. With thought came action. I began stuffing the books inside my shirt and made a quick tour of the chamber, finding three others, including one of great age by its appearance. My search had brought me full  circle around the room and I again looked down on the strange creature which had been the cause of so much trouble and anguish; yet, where once I completely loathed the reptile master as a presence of evil incarnate, I sensed a little of the creature's motivation and desire for life. Though the Mahar life will forever be alien to humanity, I could not suppress a brief gesture of admiration to this being who, regardless of selfish purpose, had protected my Ee-na-lah and had given me the information I needed to find the girl. I solemnly saluted the crumpled Mahar and exited the chamber.

Retracing my path at a dead run, Lightning leading the way, there was now no other course. Upon emerging from the ruined underground city I went to my plane, delayed only by the necessity of shooting two reptiles about the size of an Airdale equipped with more teeth than a shark. The bipedal beasts were trying to claw their way to the food stored in the fighter's starboard boom. Though the access hatch was badly scratched and dented, it was secure. I stowed the books in the boom as I contemplated what came next.

My fuel reserves would not take me to the moon of Pellucidar and back to Sari, a trip of some two thousand miles. I studied the two black aircraft which were relatively intact. In fact, the fuel tanks of both aircraft were undamaged. I confirmed, by smell, feel, and taste that the fluid in the black ships was similar, if not better, than Guissepi's crude brew in the P-38. I removed the cylindrical tanks which were about twice the size of oxy-acetane bottles, that is, about as long as I am tall and thicker than my upper thigh.

Drenched with sweat from the effort of extracting the tanks, I taxied the P-38 as near to the wrecks as possible to reduce the distance I must move the fuel tanks to my aircraft. I am a strong man, and I was a man with a purpose which added more strength to my muscles, but rolling that first cylinder across the rough ground was almost beyond my power. Then, like a playful kitten amused that round things roll when pushed with a paw, Lightning was at my side, his large, powerful paw shoving against the tank. I knew my feline companion was strong, I had felt the restrained power when we occasionally engaged in physical play, but exactly how strong the beast had become was evident in the ease Lightning amused himself in this new game. Moments later the tank was beside the P-38 and I had a moment of worry persuading Lightning that we had played with this tank long enough. With what appeared to be a pout on his savage contenence, Lightning turned away to seek the shade of a nearby tree. The big cat commenced cleaning his mottled fur with a large, raspy tongue.

I had a short period of frustration attaching the hand pump kept in the P-38's aft locker to the fuel tank because the fittings were dissimilar in size, but eventually solved the problem with strips of cloth, mud, and a tight fist about the collar as I pumped with the other hand. When the P-38 was completely refueled there was at least a third capacity left in the black aircraft tank. With the distance I expected to travel I was loathe to leave any fuel behind.

Sitting in the shade of my aircraft's wing I leaned back to take a moment of rest. My eyes traveled upward, inspecting the wing as would any conscientious pilot, and almost slapped my forehead for being dense. If a P-38 could carry bombs and external fuel tanks why couldn't I take these tanks with me?

I worked at fashioning slings from jungle lianas until I was hungry. As I ate I saw that Lightning had already fended for himself, the sabertooth was lazily gnawing the bones of something he had killed earlier.

Beginning to ache in every muscle, I snugged the partly empty tank inboard on the left side. Satisfied the tank was well clear of the ground and securely attached, I called to Lightning as I went to the second tank. "Want to play? Give me a hand, Lightning!"

The big cat yawned. Licking his blood-spattered paw, the sabertooth did not seem interested in rolling the tank. But a moment later Lightning regally paced closer. I started the game, pushing against the tank. After the third push I scowled at the feline. "You're some help!"

Lightning snorted then leisurely batted the tank, sending it five feet in the right direction! Lightning was again disappointed when I shoved him away when the tank was properly positioned, but I had a new game for the cat...if only he understood!

I played tug-o-war with a short piece of liana like we had done when Lightning was a cub. Once reminded of the game and still willing to play, I quickly wrapped the long liana beneath the tank and gave the sabertooth the other end. "Pull, boy! Pull!"

The tank whammed up to the underside of the wing. "Pull! Pull!" I urged as I swiftly secured the fuel tank. "Okay, you can let go. Let go!" I pleaded as Lightning was beginning to turn the P-38 on its tricycle carriage. Lightning was thoroughly amused and would not cease, so I used my knife to cut the vine. Lightning rolled head over heels when the liana parted, then sulked as I knelt to rough his stiff neck fur. When that rasp-like tongue near removed the beard on the side of my face I knew I had been forgiven.

Rough-housing with Lightning I looked at the "drop tanks," which were not a thing of beauty but, by my most pessimistic estimate, I believed I could now travel some 2500 miles if I encountered no problems.

Lightning curled up beside me, eyes closed, his fearsome incisors draped over a sturdy leg as I thought out my strategy. I examined the map Innes' people had provided. If the distances were reasonably accurate, my best route would be a straight flight across the bay west of the knot of land that I was currently on, using some island named Indiana (a joke name by Perry, I later discovered) as a reference, and right to the moon. How I expected to land on the moon unmolested I did not know, but I knew one thing: Jehoida had taken Ee-la-nah to the moon of Pellucidar and I would never rest until she was safe. I opened the cockpit and called to Lightning.