The Lightning's Course

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Comet January 41. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

It was only a robot, tiny, chubby, for all the universe like a Ganymedean monkey. It stood in the dark old mansion alone, stiff, immovable. Its pink, bewhiskered, rubberoid face seemed twisted with abject loneliness.... Aye, it stood alone and lonely, as if awaiting the return of its master--

The song pulsed in a vibrant, ominous cadence through the streets of nightclad Certagarni, clashed against the glassite atmosphere--retaining walls of the ancient Martian city, and penetrated faintly into a dimly lighted room of the Earth Embassy where the two earthmen sat smoking, listening.

One of them spoke in a hoarse whisper which cut out above the dull, endless drone of discontented voices like the scream of a tortured soul:

"God, if it would only break! Flame across a world--battles to be fought and won!"

"And lost, Del Andres!" came the other's calm voice. "If this revolt does come, it'll be so big that we'll never stamp it down without the Legion!" His slender fingers rose to caress thoughtfully a close-cropped, golden beard.

A twisted, bitter smile played on Del Andres' full, sensitive lips. Strange pain was etched on his dark, handsome face and in the black pools of his eyes flame burned. He remained silent.

"What are you thinking about, Del?"

"Battle--and death! War like we had in Alpha Centauri. A blaze of conquest like the Fall of Kackijakaala. What else is there to live for?"

"There are many things!"

"Not any more, Frederix. The years have been too cruel." The dark eyes were staring out into the night, thrusting aside the enfolding curtain of a dozen decades and many trillion miles of outer space. "Oh, why did I stay here fooling around with robots when I could have gone out to Sirius with the Legion--to battle, to glory?"

"Because you're needed here. Hear those voices! Of what are they singing? Revolt, of course. And why? Because they think earthmen are wholly to blame for the loss of control of their industry and commerce!"

"Aren't they?" blazed Andres. "We think we're always right, we of Earth. Because we were the first to conquer space we think we should rule its farthest bounds, cosmic policeman, arbitrator of all internal strife from here to the ultimate!

"We went out to Centauri over a century ago, brought the Vrons out of subjugation beneath the Dwares, gave them freedom after tying up all kinds of trade agreements for our benefit; and then skipped over to Lalande and fixed everything according to our scale of values. And now Sirius!

"Here in our own system what goes on? I need not mention the names of the men who are undermining and usurping the greatest Martian institutions. Earthmen all!

"Mars has as much a right to freedom and monopoly on its own civilization as Earth on hers. Because a few greedy men spread tyranny through Certagarni, the Thyles, Botrodus, Zabirnza and other regions, they blame all of Earth. Neither you nor I can say they're wrong!"

"It's deeper than that, Del. The Vrons of Centauri have as great a hand in it as Wilcox, Onupari and the other earthmen here. You'll find--"

"Bosh!" snapped Andres, and then that smouldering flame was in his eyes again, something that leaped to the lure of the far places and spoke of the meteoric winds that blow between the worlds. His deep, resonant voice grew strained, lingered on his words:

"I wonder--"