The Black Star Passes | Page 8

go right to your father's office and ask
him over to our place for supper, and see if Fuller can come too. I think
we'll be able to use that molecular controller on this job; it's almost
finished, and with it we'll need a good designing engineer. Then our
little movie show will no doubt be of interest!"
There was a low rumble that quickly mounted to a staccato roar as the
great propellers began whirling and the engines took up the load. The
ground began to flash behind them; then suddenly, as flying speed was
reached, there was a slight start, the roaring bark of the engine took on
a deeper tone, the rocking stopped and the ground dropped away. Like
some mighty wild bird, the plane was in the air, a graceful, sentient
thing, wheeling in a great circle as it headed for San Francisco. Now
the plane climbed steadily in a long bank; up, up, up she went, and
gradually the terrific roar of the engine died to a low throbbing hum as
the low pressure of the air silenced the noise.
Below them the giant city contracted as the great ship rode higher. The
tiny private helicops were darting about below them like streams of
nigh invisible individuals, creeping black lines among the buildings of
the city. The towering buildings shone in the noon sun in riotous hues
as the colored tile facing reflected the brilliant sunlight with glowing
warmth of color.
It was a city of indescribable beauty now. It was one of the things that
made this trip worthwhile.
Now the shining city dropped behind them, and only the soft green of
the Jersey hills, and the deep purple-black of the sky above were visible.
The sun blazed high in the nigh-black heavens, and in the rarefied air,
there was so little diffusion that the corona was readily visible with the
aid of a smoked glass. Around the sun, long banners in space, the
Zodiacal light gleamed dimly. Here and there some of the brighter stars

winked in the dark sky.
Below them the landscape swung slowly by. Even to these men who
had made the trip dozens of times, the sight was fascinating, inspiring.
It was a spectacle which had never been visible before the development
of these super-planes. Whole flying observatories had been made that
had taken photographs at heights of fifteen miles, where the air was so
rarefied that the plane had to travel close to eight hundred miles an hour
to remain aloft.
Already ahead of them Arcot and Morey could see the great splotch of
color that was Chicago, the mightiest city of Earth. Situated as it was in
the heart of the North American continent, with great water and ground
landing facilities and broad plains about it, it made a perfect airport.
The sea no longer meant much, for it was now only a source of power,
recreation and food. Ships were no longer needed. Planes were faster
and more economical; hence seacoast cities had declined in importance.
With its already great start toward ascendancy, Chicago had rapidly
forged ahead, as the air lines developed with the great super-planes.
The European planes docked here, and it was the starting point of the
South American lines. But now, as they swung high above it, the
glistening walls of soft-colored tiles made it a great mass of changing,
flashing color beneath them. Now they could see a great air liner, twice
the size of their plane, taking off for Japan, its six giant propellers
visible only as flashing blurs as it climbed up toward them. Then it was
out of sight.
It was over the green plains of Nebraska that the Pirate usually worked,
so there the men became more and more alert, waiting for the first sign
of abnormal drowsiness. They sat quietly, not talking, listening intently
for some new note, but knowing all the while that any sound the Pirate
might make would be concealed by the whirring roar of the air
sweeping past the giant airfoils of the plane.
Suddenly Arcot realized he was unbearably sleepy. He glanced
drowsily toward Morey who was already lying down. He found it a
tremendous effort of the will to make himself reach up and close the
switch that started the little camera whirring almost noiselessly. It

seemed he never pulled his arm back--he just--lay there--and--
A white uniformed man was bending over him as he opened his eyes.
To one side of him he saw Morey smiling down at him.
"You're a fine guard, Arcot. I thought you were going to stay awake
and watch them!"
"Oh, no, I left a much more efficient watchman! It didn't go to
sleep--I'm willing to bet!"
"No, it may not have gone to sleep, but