not half so bad as the abrupt dissemination of energy through all Earth's metallic seams. The forces of unleashed lightning will be conducted to the surface through numberless veins of metal. Metal will become electrified; in parts seams will explode to allow volcanic forces to shatter forth.
"You can picture the rest. If there are any survivors from electric shock and other catastrophes I'll be surprised."
"Just how is this incredible voltage built up?" Val demanded.
"It's been built up ever since the Martians died or vacated the planet."
Townshend pointed to various points on the x-ray screen.
"Here is the central mechanism. It is consistently absorbing the electric charges of the planet itself, which it generates by its spin against the ether in dynamolike fashion. It's been doing it for untold ages. A colossal potential power has been building up all this time.
"Part of it has passed into these other smaller balls by means of deeply sunk underground wires I imagine, which we can't reach, or to hidden mechanisms such as the one which opened the floor trap. That power has partly expended itself, but the main bulk is conserved for outlet against the Earth. It is so well balanced a unit that it remains fixed at this potential and transmits surplus and overload automatically—so had we not come here for another five centuries it would have made no difference.
"Here," Townshend concluded grimly, "is the escape mechanism. It releases the potential through the ether shaft. Take a look at it and count the beats of the pendulum!"
THE engineers surveyed their watches then glanced at the shadowed machine Townshend had indicated. There was no doubt about it.
After every beat of the pendulum a tiny minute hand jerked up a slight degree, bringing it very gradually round to a giant hand fixed in the noon position of an Earth clock.
"See?" Townshend demanded. "Six hours have elapsed since this damned thing started. The numerical order of the clock is pretty similar to our own reckonings. That giant hand points to the twenty-four mark. Now, when the little hand is parallel with it it stands to reason that it will operate this catch on the left here, which you already see is slightly away from its fixture. It widens very gradually until, when the two fingers lie atop each other, the catch will be fully back and. . . ." He stopped, having no need to detail.
"Eighteen hours," Val whispered, plugging his pipe. "That's kind of short notice. . . ."
"We've got to try something!" Cliff said hoarsely. "We've got to get through this ball, even if it's only an inch at a time. We'll try blasting too. Morton, you, Sparks, get all the titanite you can lay your hands on and rush it down here. You others help me with the furnaces and batteries. . . ."
CHAPTER V
A Race Against Disaster
SUDDEN and tremendous activity descended on the cavern. Working at top speed. Cliff, Val and Townshend set up the ray-drillers in v-formation, ten all told, and centered them so that their blinding forces pointed directly on one focal point. They donned dark glasses, slammed the switches, and stood watching.
The brilliance of that one core of flame was blinding even through the dense goggles. At first it looked as though headway was being made, but
