CHAPTER XI
_"Bullard, of the I.B.C.!"_
The controls of a meteor ship held steady without the touch of thepilot's hand. Chet Bullard was staring at a radiocone on the instrumentboard in the control room where a voice from some super-powered stationwas calling. His own radio had been crackling a call, and now thisresponse was coming across the void.
"Orders from the Stratosphere Control Board: You will proceed at once toNew York. Radiobeacon 2X12 will guide you down. Your message receivedand we acknowledge report of the finding of the space-flyer, PilotHaldgren. Do not discharge any passengers and land nowhere else than atNew York without direct orders of the Board. Keep your directionalsignal on full power; our cruisers will pick you up in the highestlevel. Signed: Commander of Air."
Spud O'Malley, it was, who broke the silence of the room where only thesound of the terrific exhaust came thinly through.
"May divils confound him! And it's back on the Moon with those otherbeasts I'm wishin' I was. At least a man can get close enough to slamthem in their ugly faces; but the Commander and his cruisers! Sure,there's nothin' we can do!"
"Just take our medicine," said Chet Bullard quietly. "But I have provedhim wrong; Haldgren, here, is the living evidence of that. And I said Iwould laugh him from the Service--well, I'm not so sure of that."
"But surely," broke in Haldgren's booming voice, "there will be onlypraise for what you have done. I do not understand--"
"You don't know the Commander, my boy," Spud broke in dryly. "And youdon't know that the lad, here, defied him to his face and ran thegantlet of his cruisers' guns to get away and go after you."
"Ah!" grunted the giant. "And now I understand. It is the old story--anincompetent man in a place of authority--"
* * * * *
Chet broke in.
"Not quite right; this Commander of ours has done much--he is a driverof men--but there are some of us who think he lacks vision. He can neversee beyond the stratosphere he rules so ably; and his position issupreme."
"There is still the Governing Council--we will appeal--"
But the master pilot was not listening to Haldgren's words; his slim,sensitive hand was reaching for the ball-control to build up still morethe tremendous blast of a forward exhaust that was checking their speedand making them as heavy as if their bodies were of meteoric iron.
A forward lookout showed a black globe; its circle was rimmed with firefrom the Sun that it blotted out. A hemisphere of night lay below--theblack, mysterious night of a waiting Earth. But one strong signal camein on the instruments at Chet's side to show him where on that horizonwas New York; and the call of a flagship of cruisers was flashing beforehim as the lift of the Repelling Area was felt.
"Follow!" flashed the order. "You will follow to New York!" And, throughthe black night, faint flashes of light marked the fleet of swiftguardians of the skies that closed in, then swept downward and out--animpregnable convoy about the speeding, roaring ship.
And there was that in Chet's face as he handled the controls thatbrought Anita Haldgren to his side that she might lift his free hand inwordless comfort and press it to her face.
* * * * *
That venerable and beloved man, the President of the FederationAeronautique Internationale, stood silent before a vast audience.Throughout the great auditorium was silence; each of the gatheredthousands was listening to the shrieking sirens from the landing fieldon the roof overhead.
Skylights above showed the night air ablaze with red, through which thevivid green of landing signals pierced in staccato bursts. From the roofof that building to the highest level of the stratosphere the air wascleared; no craft of the Service would venture to pierce the barrage oflight and radio waves that hemmed that aerial shaft. And down the shaft,in a thunder of roaring exhausts, came a shining shape.
She sparkled and flashed in the crimson and green of that emergencylight, and from her bow poured a tornado that blasted the air, thenstreamed out behind in hot gas like a comet of flame. Then the thundersdied; the shining shape turned once slowly in air to show her blunt noseand cylindrical body before she settled softly as a homing bird to theembrace of great waiting arms of steel. And, inside the building, awhite-haired man was saying:
"They are here! Thank God, they are here! Their radio has prepared us;our signals have guided them home. And now it is not New York, nor eventhe United States of America alone who attends; the whole world will besummoned. Look!"
* * * * *
Behind, and high above him on a wall, was a radio panel. Its signallamps went suddenly dark. The thin, blue-veined hand of the speaker waspointing.
"Only twice has the world-call flashed: once when the Molemen came andthe future of the world was at stake; once when the Dark Moon crasheddown from the void and the serpents of space menaced aerial traffic. Andnow--once again!--the whole world is summoned! Every city and hamlet ofEarth--every ship of the air and the sea--every vessel on the ocean,under the ocean, and in the air levels above--"
His voice broke sharply. From the panel there came a thin call, aquivering that was more a trembling than a sound; it reached out totouch raspingly the nerves of every listener. Then the whole board burstforth in a flash of fire where a flaming crystal leaped to life--andnone could see that pulsing flame without thrilling to the knowledgethat it was calling a whole world with its wordless summons.
The light died; a television detector whined as its motors came tospeed; and each watcher knew that the waiting world was connected withthat auditorium in New York; all that happened, there--each sight andsound--was circling the globe.
An announcer's voice roared briefly before the regulator cut down on itsvolume.
"You are seeing the Radio-central Auditorium in New York. On the landingstage above, after a journey of five hundred thousand miles, a strangecraft has settled to rest. Its pilot: Chester Bullard, once rated asMaster Pilot of the World! Its journey, now safely completed: from theEarth to the Moon, and return!
"The world is waiting to greet Pilot Bullard, though of this he, as yet,is unaware. World-wide radio control is now transferred to Radio-centralAuditorium in New York! They are coming! They are entering!"
* * * * *
But the thousands gathered in that great hall heard no other words fromthe radiocone. Their attention was focused upon the broad stage, where,descending from a lift, a strange group stepped out upon the stage,stood an instant in startled wonder that was near embarrassment, thentook the seats to which they were shown.
And again the venerable President of the Federation AeronautiqueInternationale was speaking.
"It is less than a month since I stood here before you, when, as againis true to-night, the entire personnel of the executives of theStratosphere Control Board was gathered to do honor to the pioneers ofspace--the discoverer--"
On the stage near the speaker, Chet Bullard stared in consternation at agirl in a pilot's suit as grimed and ragged as his own. His gaze passedon to the set features of Pilot O'Malley--to the blue eyes of aflaxen-haired giant--then on to where Walt Harkness and Diane, his wife,sat regarding him with happy smiles. Dimly Chet heard the man at thespeakers' stand.
"--and on that other occasion, Mr. Bullard refused a decoration tenderedhim and marking him as the first to travel through airless space.
"I have here"--the speaker smiled slightly as he extended his hand wherea jewel flashed fire from a velvet case--"the identical jewel and medal.And to-night, while the peoples of Earth are gathered throughout theworld to do honor to Mr. Bullard, it has been given to me the proudprivilege of welcoming him home."
* * * * *
He turned and held out a beckoning hand toward Chet. In a daze theyounger man arose and moved beside the one who had called him.
"And now, Chester Bullard, on behalf of the Governing Council of theRuling Nations of this
Earth, I greet you: Pilot of the Stratosphere nolonger--but Pilot of Endless Space! The world welcomes you; and, throughme, it places in your hands this jewel.
"But you will observe that we older ones may still learn, and we do notrepeat our former mistake. We hand you this medal, emblematic of thefirst penetration of space, to do with as you will."
The thin hand was shaking as the speaker turned and swept the audiencewith one all-inclusive gesture.
"To you who are before me now; to you out beyond wherever parallels oflongitude and latitude are known--I present the Columbus of theStars!--Chester Bullard!"
And suddenly Chet found himself alone in a pandemonium of sound. Fromthe countless faces that blurred into one unrecognizable sea came a roarof human voices like waves thundering against storm-worn cliffs; abovethe clamor was the sound of shrieking sirens; and through all, when itseemed that no other sound could be heard, came the full-volume,nerve-stunning clangor from the radiocone's wide-opened throat as thetrumpets and brass of all the monster bands of Earth broke forth, underradio control, in one synchronous song--till even that was drowned underthe roaring welcomes in strange tongues as the nations of Earth cut in.
* * * * *
And Chet Bullard, his blouse still torn where a Commander of Air hadripped off a three-starred emblem of a Master Pilot, shook his blondhead to clear it of the confusion that seemed beating him down. And hestared and stared, not at the rioting throng before him, but atsomething he could in part comprehend--a glowing, flashing jewel thatrested in his hand. And slowly there crept into his eyes a look ofunderstanding, while a ghost of a smile twitched and tugged at thecorners of his mouth.
The hall, which one instant was a bedlam of roaring voices, went silentas Chet Bullard raised his hand. He was still smiling as he bowed towardthe white-haired man whose happy face belied the moisture in his eyes;then he faced the throng, and his voice held no hint of trembling oruncertainty.
"The Columbus of the Stars! I thank you for that title, which I canaccept only most humbly. For I ask you to go back with me into historyand remember, as I am remembering, that before Columbus there wereothers whose names are lost.
"The Norsemen--those Vikings of old!--who dared the unknown seas, werefirst. And again history repeats. But this time the pioneer will notremain unknown. I have been to the Moon; I have reached out intospace--but I followed another's trail.
"Frithjof Haldgren!" he shouted, and extended a hand toward the gentlegiant whose face was aflame as he came to Chet's side. "FrithjofHaldgren, I present you to the world. Only one can be the first; andyours is the honor and glory. This medal is yours alone; I place itwhere it belongs!"
* * * * *
And Frithjof Haldgren, white of face and lips now instead of fiery red,stood silent and trembling while Chet fastened a jewel upon his grimytattered blouse; then retired to his chair as if beaten back by therolling waves of sound.
But to Chet, as he watched the man go, came a quick sense ofdisappointment. Unconsciously, his hand went to the same place on hisown chest where had rested an emblem he had prized above all else--andnow his searching fingers found only the mark of his disgrace. Then heknew again that the aged President was speaking, while he held Chetbeside him with one detaining hand.
"We older ones have served, perhaps; we have done what we could; we praythat the world is better for our efforts! And we shall continue toserve; yet it is to youth that we must look for the progress which is tocome.
"Today we face a new life whose horizons, once bounded by the limitingair, have been pushed back. We have conquered space, and before us isthe waiting marvel of man's extension of his activities throughout theuniverse.
"How far shall we go in this new and endless sphere? With interplanetarytravel, what is our goal? Only youth can give the answer. And in thehands of youth must the command of this great adventure be placed.
* * * * *
"Gentlemen, the Governing Council of the Ruling Nations of this Earthhas created a new command. By the acts of this man who stands beside me,and by his fellow-explorer, Walter Harkness, the Council has been forcedto take this step.
"That command will rank second only to the Governing Council itself; abody of men shall compose it who shall be known as the InterstellarBoard of Control." He turned squarely toward Chet. "I am placing inyour hands, Mr. Bullard, your commission as Commander of that Board. Thebest minds of all nations will be at your call. Will you accept--willyou gather these men about you and do your part in this great work forthe greater future of mankind?"
The ears of a listening world waited long for an answer. But the eyes ofthat world saw a figure whose blond head was suddenly lowered as if tohide a betrayal of what was in his heart; they saw him raise his bowedhead to stare mutely toward a girl whose eyes of blue were swimming withhappy tears as she gave him a trembling smile--and only then did theysee Chet Bullard draw himself erect, while his voice went out with thespeed of light to a waiting world.
"I accept, Mr. President. Proudly--humbly--I accept!"
And the eyes of the world, if they were understanding eyes, must havesmiled with his, as the Commander of the Interstellar Board of Controlgrasped, among others, the congratulatory hand of his subordinate, theCommander of Air.
But if there were any who expected to read mockery in those smilingeyes, they had yet to learn the measure of Commander Bullard--"Bullard,of the I.B.C.!"
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