Air Wonder Stories, August 1929 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

126 AIR WONDER STORIES faise it to the surface before life had fled from its human cargo! With those dire thoughts in my mind, I dozed. Joan was too intent upon controlling the plane to engage in conversation with me, and as the aero- speedster sped. toward its destination I slept, exhausted by worry and grief. ; After what seemed an exceptionally brief period, T was awakened by a sudden shriek from the plane’s right-of-way siren. I sat bolt upright, bewildered. Joan was smiling at me and motioned for me to look down through the floor squares. It was daylight and San Diego lay directly below us, its tall flat-topped buildings: rising like monumental obelisks. Hundreds of aircraft skudded through the air at various eleva- tions. Another day of activity had begun over the Southwest’s aero-metropolis! The bay was dotted thickly. with amphibian craft and the government aero- drome, with its swarms of fighting planes, stood out in bas-relief against’ the green of the area surround- ing it. Suddenly Joan tilted the aerofoil controls and the plane plunged headlong toward the earth. At-a terrific speed it shot, plummet-like, toward the landing atop the Lindbergh Aero-Hotel. The building seemed to shoot up to meet us like some gigantic rocket. Wind whistled and whined. along the narrow aerofoils of the speedster as it sped in a perpendicular nose-dive, toward earth. I sat in my chair rigid, struggling for breath. I cast a frightened glance at Joan. A deter- mined smile played around.-her lips and her eyes sparkled with the joy of the thrilling drop. “For. God’s sake, Joan!” I managed to say between choking gulps. “Remember that I’m an old man!” “This will make you young again, daddy,” she smiled. “But I promise not to do it any more with you in the plane. You're old-fashioned—like Ralph “Y’d. rather be an old-fashioned fogey than an up- to-date corpse, Joan!” I said, as she twisted the ster out of its nose-dive-and pointed its whining airscrews toward the government aerodrome across San Diego Bay. “We'll go direct to the governmenit field, daddy,” she said. e “But you can’t make a landing there, Joan. You know they don't allow private craft to land on the reservation,” I said. “Just the same we land, father!” she replied, de- terminedly. “T’m going to be on the inside of the barricades when they begin to rescue the Asnthilator. It will be up to you to get us out of any: difficulties.” “T haven't any friends there, Joan.” I complained. “T don’t believe you ought to-——_”" “I don't care, daddy!” she said. “We are going to drop there! Tell them you are former essinan Holdon and everything will be alright, I’m sure.” “Well, alright, Joan. Go right ahead!’ I said with Tesignation. Begin Firing OAN' shot the tiny plane toward the government aerodrome, shut off the twin-screws and elevated the heliocopter blades. The plane hovered over the field for an instant and then dropped slowly to the ground without so much as a warning from its siren to tell of its arrival. It settled between two gigantic combat ships, their big guns casting long shadows that almost completely hid the streamlined speedster from the rising sun. But the plane had been. observed on landing, and before we could get out of the cabin, armed guards had come up. I stepped out first, Joan hopped down beside me. “T’m sorry, sir,” said a debonair young naval officer as I dropped down to the ground. “I have an order for your arrest, sir.” “What are the charges, son?” I asked. The young guard ‘smiled, “Landing on a government reservation, sir,” he said. I turned to Joan, grimacing. “See what you've done, young lady?” I said, severely. “You've led us before a firing squad—it will serve you right if they shoot you at sundown!” “Tt’s not that serious an offense, sir,” the guard said with a grin. “We don't shoot beautiful young ladies at sundown or any: other time, sir. Though you will have to explain yourselves to the Officer of the Day.” “Oh, never mind the O.D., son,” I said. “Take us direct to the Officer in command. I am Congressman Holdon and this is my daughter, Joan. We'll explain to the commander.” rahe officer gulped and his face reddened beneath is tan. “Very well, sir. Follow. me,” he-said, nodding to the other guards to disband: He turned on his heel and walked swiftly toward the administration build- ings nearby. We followed. “This is-indeed_an honor, Mr. Holdon,’ Commander Wilkins said after I introduced Joan and myself and explained our visit, “But I am very sorry that such an urgent cause brought you here. I have very grave hopes for our.men recovering the Annihilator, You aude Holdon are welcome to remain to watch the work.” ‘ : “Thank you, Commander,” Joan said, pleasantly, glancing at her wrist chronometer. “Isn’t it time the work began?” “We begin firing at 4:50, Miss Holdon,” Com- mander Wilkins replied. “And will continue at brief intervals until shortly after five. The Annihilator is expected to pass over here at exactly. 4:59.” “Begin firing?” I-asked, awed. “Do you intend to create a downward vacuum in the outer atmospheres with high explosives?” “Not at all, Mr. Holdon,” the commander smiled. “Our largest anti-aircraft gims in battery: formation, are loaded with gravity nullifying cobalt-steel pro- jectiles. Each one contains ten pounds of concen- trated nitro-radium. These projectiles, insulated against gravity as they are, will be given greater impetus from the earth by the added force of high-explosives in the guns. As the Annihilator races along the other air- stream, magnetized steel nets will be hanging from her belly to pick up any of the missiles that might be in her path. Therefore our guns will hurl shells into the air through the pocket over which she will pass, five feet. apart and at intervals of 30 seconds.” “Lord!” I exclaimed. with apprehension and alarm. “Suppose she fails to pick up any of the projectiles? Then what?” “Oh, father! Joan cried. “They must not fail!” Commander Wilkins hung his head and stared down at the toe of-a restless, booted foot. I turned at the sound of a voice in back of me. “Pardon. me, sir,” said a white-coated ordezly. “Radiogram for Commander Wilkins from the Annihilator. I beg to report, sir, that the batteries are ready to begin firing.” COMME ee — PP eee apy eed reef a. 7