A Columbus of Space
By GARRETT P. SERVISS
(Continued)
we saw, but beyond the fact that the objects were aerial he could learn nothing definite.
A Language of Colors of the Spectrum
As we approached the coast we saw other airships heading toward us from various directions. We guessed at once that some kind of a greeting was in preparation for the returning explorers, but we could never have imagined the magnificence which the reception would assume. It was not long before our eyes were opened.
When we were, perhaps, ten miles off the coast, a vast flock of airships seemed to rise like birds from the land. In a little while they became innumerable, and it is impossible to depict the beauty of the spectacle which they presented.
The aerial vessels of our little fleet were all of one type, and, while they were excellent travelers, they were quite unpretending in their build and ornamentation. But those that were approaching showed a hundred different shapes and sizes. Chinese kites could not for an instant be compared with some of them in grotesqueness.
Many soared in vast circles at a great height, sweeping around and over us like eagles. Others flanked us on either side, and timed their progress with ours. Still others, probably a hundred in number, advanced to meet us in a great semicircle, where each kept its place with the precision of marching soldiers.
Suddenly, at a signal apparently, the air was filled with fluttering colors. To this day I have never been able to understand how that effect was produced. The colors were not on or in the airships only, but in the atmosphere all about. They were exquisite beyond all description.
It was as if the air had suddenly turned to crystal, with a thousand rainbows playing through it, their arches constantly shifting and interchanging. Presently from the craft that carried us answering shafts of color were shot out. Then I began to notice that there was a remarkable rhythm in the swift changes.
I do not know how to describe the impression better than by saying that it was as if a piano or organ should send forth from its keys harmonic vibrations consisting not of concordant sounds, but of even more delicately related waves of color. The permutations and combinations of the chromatic scale was marvelous. The shades of color seemed infinite in their variety, and the effect was magical. It thrilled us with awe and wonder.
A Threatened Collision Averted by Killing a Venustian Air Pilot
"That is a language," cried Edmund. "They are conversing in this way. They have the whole gamut of the spectrum of light at their command, and every varying shade speaks to them as musical notes do to us; only the meaning conveyed to their minds is as definite as that of spoken words."
"But that cannot be possible!" I objected.
"It is perfectly possible,” he replied. "It simply shows how far they exceed us in the delicacy of their nervous organization."
Soon we were all convinced that Edmund was right, and that we were looking upon a display of aerial telegraphy more wonderful than that of Marconi.
After a while the fluttering colors ceased to play. The communication was evidently ended for the time being. Most of the airships now turned and circled toward the land, escorting us.
But half a dozen continued to approach, and in a few minutes one of them, which had got very near, and which was moving at great speed, suddenly turned directly upon us. I expected to see it come to rest, but it kept bearing down with undiminished velocity.
"By Heavens," said Jack, "that fellow is going to run us down!"
There was no doubt of it. On came the ponderous vessel, its prow aimed straight for us, and a long projecting beam threatening to rake our little vessel like the tongue of a runaway fire-engine. There was a momentary excitement among our people.
Surrounded by a Fleet of Airplanes
Ala gave an order, and a quick attempt was made to alter our course, But it was too late. Ala had advanced near the bow, and the projecting beam seemed about to strike her.
We turned pale with excitement, and my heart quailed.
A tall, handsome fellow stood near the prow of the approaching craft, and seemed to be making terrible efforts to manage some machinery.
"Blank the fool!" said Edmund. "Will he never get out of the way?"
An instant more and a cracking report broke upon the air. Edmund had fired his automatic rifle.
The effect was amazing. The prow of the approaching airship swerved instantly to one side, the threatening beam grazed the shrinking form of Ala, and she narrowly escaped being thrown overboard. But the danger was over in a flash, and the craft that had seemed certain to run us down shot harmlessly past our quarter.
For a few minutes none of us could speak. We could hardly think, so imminent had been the peril and so instantaneous the deliverance from it. At last I found voice.
"Edmund," I said, "how in Heaven's name did you do it?"
He was as pale as the rest of us, but his self-command was perfect. To my astonishment, there was a tone of deep regret in his voice as he replied:
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