Maza of the Moon by Otis Adelbert Kline Read Free Book Online Page A

his larger vehicle could be completed.
    "Well I'll be damned!" exploded the President. "This is a pretty how d'ye do. Gone just when we need him most."
    "I'm sorry," answered Roger, "but he hoped to be able to stop the war by this trip. If there's anything I can do-"
    "Maybe there is," said the President, with forced calmness. "Perhaps you can explain some things that I had hoped he could explain. For instance, what is the cause of this intensely cold weather in the middle of the summer, and why does the moonlight appear green?"
    "We can't see the moon from here," replied Roger, "and it's not cold. There is a terrific storm raging, plenty of lightning rain and wind, but no cold."
    "A devastating cold wave has spread over this part of the country, affecting Washington and Baltimore, and extending as far south as Richmond," said the President. "The Potomac is frozen solid, and although we have our heating plants going to the utmost capacity, it is impossible to keep warm. Thousands of people, caught unexpectedly, have perished from the intense cold. My thermometer here in the White House registers 10 degrees above zero. Outside, I am told the thermometers have dropped under 60 degrees below zero, Fahrenheit."
    "And you say the moon looks green?"
    "As green as grass. The country is bathed in a weird, green light at this moment."
    "Must be some connection," mused Roger, "I mean between the green light and the intense cold localized around Washington. Wish Mr. Dustin were here."
    "But he isn't," snapped the President, "so see what you can find out, and report back, either by radiovisiphone or in person at your earliest convenience. Off!"
    As the face of the President disappeared from the disc, Roger slumped down in his chair and lighted a cigarette. What should he do? What could he do?
    There was a tap at the door.
    "Come in," he said, listlessly.
    Professor Ederson entered.
    "No use to try to use the radio tonight," he said. "With the unknown interference we have been getting lately and this storm, it would be useless to try to communicate with the moon. I had our operator notify all stations that we wouldn't attempt it tonight."
    "Hear about the cold snap in the east?" asked Roger.
    "Yes. Got it on the small set just before I came down. Terrible thing, isn't it?"
    "And about the green moonlight?"
    "Yes. Some new wrinkle of the Lunites, I fancy. They are clever and resourceful and, for all we know, a thousand years ahead of us in scientific knowledge."
    "What do you suppose it is?"
    "I don't know. An observation might be made from here, seeing that this part of the country is unaffected, if it were not for the raging storm. But it would be suicidal to go up in an electroplane just now."
    "If I thought there were anything to be learned, I'd go up," said Roger, "danger or no danger."
    "I mentioned it only as a possibility," replied the professor. "The probability is, that if you did learn anything, it would be of no material value, even if you were to be so extremely fortunate as to get back alive with it"
    "Nevertheless," replied Roger, "I'm going up, just on the strength of that possibility."
    "Don't be an utter fool," warned the professor, but Roger was already calling Bevans.
    "Have the Blettendorf 800 ready in five minutes," he said. "I'll be up in a jiffy."
    He dressed rapidly while the professor remonstrated with him.
    "No use," said Roger, "I'm going."
    "Very well," replied the professor. "If you must go I'll go with you. Perhaps the two of us can bring back some information of value--if we get back."
    They took the elevator to the top, stepped out on the roof, and battled their way through the driving rain, in which there was beginning to be a hint of sleet, to the electroplane. Eight men held it, just outside the hangar, while Bevans, in the pilot's seat, tested the motor.
    The two men entered and took their seats. Then Roger gave the order to ascend. Came a roar from the helicopter blades, and they were off.
    As they rose