Each day his voice was less human, less easy to understand. And each day a slight change was noticeable in each of the other victims as they slid back along the long road to life's beginnings.
As Bommelsmeth had said, Wimpolo had plenty of time for undisturbed reflection. Except to bring her food none came near her.
At last she felt the sub stop. Bommelsmeth came in.
"Welcome to my undersea domain. Am I to take it that we are now friends?"
She glared.
"Come up on deck," he said. "I will give you one last chance before you go into one of those cages."
She came up on deck and saw the vast cavern, the machines, the zekolos and apemen unloading this and other subs and taking out unconscious prisoners.
"You see," Bommelsmeth said, "how vast is my cavern. Most of it was carved out by my own dissolving thread-ray. Above our heads is a thick layer of rocks, and above that nearly a mile of salt water. I have metallic ores here, and vast factories. I am invincible. Your father and his armies can never trace you here. None of your friends can ever find you here."
His booming, boasting voice was interrupted by a commotion below her. A death-ray seemed to be sweeping round the docks, knocking men and apes over. She looked down.
Don Hargreaves stood on the deck of the sub, death-ray box in hand. Beside him was a strange Martian and a zekolo that she recognized as her own.
"I'll be back!" Don shouted, waving an arm. Then he, Martian and zekolo dived into the water.
"Kill them!" Bommelsmeth shouted.
Taking advantage of his distracted attention. Princess Wimpolo dived also, deep into the warm, queer-tasting water of this inner sea of Mars.
CHAPTER VI
Undersea Land
DON HARGREAVES swam as far as he could under water before he came up. Large submarines were all round him. A large searchlight blazed out, looking for him. He went under again, and swam to get the nearest hull between him and the light. He could see nothing of Vans Holors. It seemed to him that the Martian must have been struck by one of the death-rays as he dived. That was one of the advantages of being small: one made a smaller target, and stood a better chance of living through a fusillade of bullets, death-rays or anything else.
Many lights were now searching the waters. Don reached a small quay supported by metal pillars, and hid beneath it.
The zekolo, which, he knew, could hold its breath for remarkably long periods, swam with only the tips of its stalked eyes above the water. It plucked at him as he sat on the tracery of girders, trying to tell him something. At last it went away.
Soon it was back again, swimming among the girders under the quay. Upon its back sat Princess Wimpolo, wet but unharmed.
"My little Earthling," she said. "Your coming saved me from a terrible fate. If ever we get away from here we'll be married at once. I promise you that." And she outlined what Bommelsmeth had told her.
"The fiend," Don muttered. "We'll get away from here all right. Once the commotion dies down we'll steal a boat and put out to sea."
"There is no getting out of here that
