Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 101: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE RADIO BEASTS. ing in Toron, Hah Babbuh, Poblath and Buh Tedn, and—alternately tuning to the two ranges of speech—broached to them his plan. ‘““ Portheris,”’ said he, “ how is it that you know our language although your range is so different from ours?” “That question has oft been discussed among us,” replied the bee, ‘ and we have alwavs regarded the other inhabitants of Poros as either stupid or rude. Do you re- member calling out to me after the fight at Saltona, ‘Don’t! Was it for this that I saved vou from the spider?’ I heard vou, and stayed my sting. Yet, when I an- swered you, you gave no heed. It has al- ways been thus. Cupians and Formians alike have never replied when spoken io by Hymernians, or bees as vou call us. Why is it, I ask you in turn?” ‘Stop this whistling,” interjected Po- blath, “ and tell us what it is atl about.” But Cabot, being tuned to another wave length, did not hear him. The bee, how- ever, heard and informed Cabot, who obligingly shifted his controls and explained. ‘As I figure it out.” said he, “ these bees can send and receive on either of two different wave lengths. One of these is about the same as that of Cupian speech, and on this the bees merely whistle, so that whistling is the only sound which you ever hear them utter. On the other wave length they talk, but as this is outside the range of your antennze, you never hear it. But they can hear you talk, when they are tuned to receive the whistles of their own breed. And I can both hear them and send to them, by tuning my artificial speech- organs to their higher wave length.” | “Tt sounds plausible,”’ assented Toron judicially. The others were astounded. Then tuning back to the shorter wave length the earth-man continued his conver- Sation with the bee. “Tf you Hymernians have the intelli- gence to understand and to talk our lan- guage, how is it that you have no more sense than to attack the ant-men, whose rifles render then invincible against you?” “T know not.” Portheris replied, ‘‘ save that we cannot resist a fight. I suppose it 891 is for the same reason as leads smaller in- sects to seek a light, only to be destroyed.” “Then if you must fight,” suggested Cabot, “ why do you not fight in swarms, and thus overwhelm your adversaries by sheer weight of numbers?” “It never occurred to any of us,” an- swered the bee, simply. ‘‘ We are an inde- pendent race, who fight for the love of fight- ing, rather than any desire for victory.” ‘Would you consider a project whereby you could achieve more, and more efiective, battles?”’ asked Myles. ‘ Probably.” “What do you think, then, of this plan? I will equip each Hymernian with a fighting man armed with a rifle, to ride upon his back. If you will assemble your brethren together, I will train them in the tactics of aerial battle formation. Of course, all your fighting will have to be done right- side-up, lest you dislodge your riders. No side-slips, no spirals, no loop-the-loops. But this disadvantage will be offset by the weight of overwhelming numbers. By the way, speaking of numbers, how many Hy- mernians could vou muster?” The bee made a mental calculation. ‘“About three thousand,” said he. ‘Fine!’ ejaculated the earth-man. ‘The Formians at present cannot have more than one thousand ships. Thus, with the training which we can give you, and with the equipment which we can supply to you, you can go forth and conquer your hereditary enemies, the ant-men. And when you have returned victorious, you shall live at peace with the Cupians, who will breed for vou special herds of the choic- est auks to satisfy your need for food. What do you say, O Hymernian?” “Tt is a wonderful pian!” murmured Portheris devoutly. ‘ Mav the Great Arch- itect speed the mending of my wing.” The plan and its approval were then con- veyed to the assembled Cupians, who went wild with enthusiasm at the prospect of once more regaining control of the air. ‘It spells sure victory,” said Hah Bab- buh soberly. “Yes,” assented Poblath the philosopher, “the Great Architect builds to peculiar plans, but the resulting edifice is perfect.” CO GIOok