Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. The Radio Planet by Ralph Milne Farley (detective books to read .TXT) 📖
- Author: Ralph Milne Farley
Book online «The Radio Planet by Ralph Milne Farley (detective books to read .TXT) 📖». Author Ralph Milne Farley
But before they could reach the plane, the noisome flock flapped heavily into the air and disappeared over the trees to the northward, Quivven’s childish face an agony of despair, and one little furry paw waving a forlorn farewell.
The next move was obvious. Myles and Doggo sprang to their places in the aircraft and soared after. It was an easy matter to overtake the clumsy-winged saurians, but not so easy to decide what to do after reaching them. The reptiles flew so close together their pursuers were afraid to fire on them for fear of hitting Quivven. The girl was as yet apparently unharmed, so the only thing to do seemed to be to follow and watch for some opportunity to effect a rescue.
Thus the chase continued for several stads without event. Myles was in an agony for the safety of his little friend, but even his deep concern did not keep his scientific mind from speculating about the pale green dragons which he was following. He had read about such beasts in books on paleontology as a child. These were undoubtedly pterodactyls.
He had seen somewhat similar stuffed specimens in the imperial museum at Kuana, capital of Cupia. He had encountered swarms of tiny pterosaurs, the size of sparrows, in the caves of Kar. But he had been informed by Cupian scientists that the larger species had long since become extinct on Poros.
Whence then these captors of Quivven?
While engaged thus in speculations, he flew a bit closer to the flock, whereat two of them suddenly turned and simultaneously attacked the plane from both sides. Doggo instantly dispatched his assailant with a rifle shot; but Myles did not dare let go of the control levers, as he was flying too close to the tree tops for safety as it was. Accordingly his assailant got a clawhold on the side of the fusilage, furled its wings and started to crawl in.
But the earth-man steered the machine high into the air, as his companion swung around and fired at the intruder, which promptly let go its hold, and, falling with a shriek of pain, crashed through the tree tops and disappeared from view.
Myles drew a deep breath of relief, and once more swooped down on the flock of pterosaurs. But this time he kept at a safe distance from them; and they, warned by the fate of their two comrades, did not attempt any further sallies at the plane.
So the pursuit continued. Occasionally, between the green wings, the two in the airship could catch a glimpse of the form of Quivven, held fast in the talons of her captor. She was still alive. She did not seem to be in pain. Once she waved feebly to her friends above. What would those beasts do with her?
The question was soon to be answered. But first it was to be succeeded by many other questions, for a large and prosperous looking city loomed ahead. Its appearance was unfamiliar to Cabot. Strange, he thought that he knew all the principal settlements of Cupia! Its architecture was of an unknown type, not the pueblolike piles of exaggerated toy building blocks affected by the Formians, nor the red-tiled spires and minarets of the Cupians, but rather a style somewhat resembling classical Greek or Roman.
The architecture was immaterial, however, compared with the fact that this was a city of some sort, a city of a high degree of civilization. The beasts were apparently headed straight for it, and thus there was every prospect of the inhabitants—presumably Cupians—rescuing Quivven.
Suppose, however, it was a deserted city. Its unfamiliar style and remote location suggested as much. Perhaps this was the long forgotten court of some Cupian Jamshyd, now kept by lion and lizard, or rather by woofus and pterodactyl.
This was not so, however; for, as Cabot drew nearer, he could clearly see that the buildings were in an excellent state of repair, with not a crumbling ruin among them. No, this was an inhabited city, to which the green dragons were bringing their prey. Could it be that the Cupian inhabitants kept these creatures as pets, and that this fact was unknown to the scientists at the Cupian metropolis?
Cabot’s cogitations were again cut short by his arrival over the city. The dragons made straight for an imposing centrally-located domed edifice, which they entered by one of the upper windows. The plane promptly dropped into a near-by plaza. Making a sign to the ant-man to guard the ship, Myles seized a rifle and cartridges, and rushed down a street which led toward the building which the green beasts had entered.
On the way he met several pterosaurs, four or five four-legged slate-colored reptiles ranging in size from that of a small dog to that of a horse, one large snake about thirty feet in length, various sorts of insects, and a few cat-like furry creatures; but not a single Cupian. If these were the pets of the city, where were their masters?
The strange creatures did not offer to molest him. In fact, they gave way to him with every indication of respect and not a little fear. This seemed to indicate that they were all thoroughly domesticated, so he made no effort to hurt them.
At last he arrived at the building which he sought. A wide incline led from the street up to its arched doorway. This smacked of Formia, for the ant-men before they were driven off the continent had used ramps everywhere instead of the flight of stairs employed by the Cupians.
Over the door was an inscription in unmistakable Porovian characters: “The Palace of the City of Yat.”
This must be Cupia, or old Formia—now occupied by the Cupians—for this was the language of those two races. But then, he reflected, it had also been the written language of the Vairkings, far across the boiling seas.
Putting an end to his speculations, he rushed up the ramp and entered the building.
The splendidly arched and vaulted interior was crowded with the strangest assortment of animals the earth-man had ever set eyes upon. Picture to yourself Frank Buck’s circus, the New York zoo, and the gr-ool of Kuana, all turned loose in one hall, and then you wouldn’t imagine one-half of it; for very few of these assembled beasts bore the slightest resemblance to anything which you, or even Myles Cabot, had ever seen. He paused aghast and surveyed the assemblage. There was not a human or Cupian present, not even an ant-man!
At the farther side of the chamber, on a raised platform, there sat—or, rather, squatted—a gigantic pterosaur, whose wingspread must have been at least twenty feet from tip to tip. This beast, unlike those which had kidnapped Quivven, was pale slate-blue rather than green. His head was square, with a sharp crested beak, large circular lidless eyes, and earholes, but no ears.
Four legs he had, very much like those of a toad, except that the fifth finger of each hand, the finger which should have been the “little” finger, extended backward over his hips to a distance of about six feet, and served as the other supporting edge of his leathery wings, which now lay furled at his side.
In front of this creature stood Quivven the Golden Flame, guarded by two of the smaller pterodactyls, and seemingly unhurt and unafraid. None of the animals appeared to have noticed Cabot’s entrance, so he decided to wait a few moments and size up the situation before doing anything rash.
As he watched the scene, a huge snake some thirty feet in length and at least half a yard in diameter squirmed on to the platform beside the slate-colored dragon. This snake had two rudimentary legs and two small arms, none of which it used to help its progression; but in one hand it carried what appeared to be a sheet of paper, which it handed with a hiss to the dragon, who hissed in reply, and taking the paper appeared to read it.
This called the attention of the earth-man to the fact that each of the Alice-in-Wonderland animals about him was equipped with a pad and stylus. Occasionally one would scratch something on its pad, and then make two sharp clicks with its mouth, at which a small winged lizard would take the missive and fly with it to some other part of the chamber.
Standing very near Myles there was a small and particularly inoffensive-looking furry animal somewhat resembling a beaver. In Cupia Myles would have assumed that it was some species of mathlab, except for its lack of antennae.
This looked like a good safe specimen to experiment upon, so he reached for its pad, which, to his great surprise, the creature promptly handed him without demur, together with its stylus.
Remembering the inscription above the arched doorway, Myles wrote in Porovian shorthand: “Most Excellent King—Myles Cabot, a weary sojourner, craves protection for himself and the golden one who now stands before you. We are from Cupia and Vairkingi respectively. What country is this?”
Then he folded the paper and clicked twice with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Instantly a fluttering messenger was at his side. Indicating the platform with a gesture, he handed the note to the little winged reptile, who flew away with it. Myles passed the pad and stylus back to the furry creature from whom he had borrowed it, and then watched the great dragon to whom he had written.
This beast received and read the note, while the messenger hovered nigh. Then, steadying a pad against the floor with one front claw, he wrote on it with a stylus held in the other. What he had written he showed to the snake which lay coiled beside him, and upon obtaining a hiss of approval, folded the note and gave it to the little bat, who flew back with it to Myles.
On the paper, written in unmistakable Porovian characters, were the words: “Welcome to Yat, Myles Cabot. You and your mate are our guests. We know of no country of either Cupia or Vairkingi. This is the land of the Whoomangs, and I am Boomalayla, their king. You have permission to approach the throne.”
So that explained the strange plants, the dirt roads, the unfamiliar architecture, and the absence of Cupians and Vairkings! This must be a third continent intermediate between the other two. Well, the plane was intact, and King Boomalayla had assured him that they were guests, so that it was just as well that they had landed on this Azores of the boiling seas. Reassured, the earth-man made his way through the strange throng to the foot of the throne where he bowed low before the hideous reptile monarch.
Little Quivven, with a cry of glad surprise, rushed over to him and nestled confidingly by his side. Placing one arm protectingly around her, he boldly confronted the winged king.
This beast, after some penciled conversation with his serpent adviser, handed Myles a note reading as follows: “Our nation was founded many years ago by a creature closely resembling yourself. Therefore you are an honored guest among us. We have long awaited this day. It is true that you have killed the bodies of two of my subjects, and thereby subjected their souls to a premature birth. The penalty for this would ordinarily be to have a similar death imposed upon your own body. But because of your resemblance to our great originator, Namllup, I shall spare your body. Furthermore, I fear that, like him, you may perhaps have no soul, although this deficiency can easily be supplied.”
Myles read the note and handed it to Quivven, then pointed to the writing materials of the saurian. Instantly two of the tiny winged messengers brought him a pad and stylus.
Thus supplied, he asked the king: “Great ruler, does your offer of protection include my wings and the black creature who guards them in the public square outside?”
“And how about little me?” asked Quivven, reading over his shoulder.
“He has already pledged his friendship to both of us,” replied Myles, handing the note to one of the tiny pterosaurs.
Back came the answer from the king: “You and yours shall all be protected. I will now send guards to relieve your guard at the wings, and to summon him into my presence.”
But the earth-man held up one hand in a gesture of protest, and hurriedly wrote: “Better not, your majesty, unless you wish a fight. I will send a note, explaining all. You can then follow it in a few paraparths with your detachment of guards.”
To this proposal the huge saurian assented, so Myles dispatched to Doggo by one of the tiny pterosaurs a long written explanation of the situation. A few minutes later, under orders from the reptile king, the flock of green pterodactyls who had been the original captors of Quivven departed with much leathery flapping through one of the windows overhead, and presently one of them returned on foot with Doggo.
“What kind of a gr-ool is this we have got into?” were the ant-man’s first words, as Cabot handed
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