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diff --git a/32706.txt b/32706.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a09ef70 --- /dev/null +++ b/32706.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10887 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Triplanetary, by Edward Elmer Smith + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Triplanetary + +Author: Edward Elmer Smith + +Release Date: June 6, 2010 [EBook #32706] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRIPLANETARY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Graeme Mackreth and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + +_ONE MAN DISCOVERED THE TRUTH_ + + --The Fall of Rome, the Wars that racked the world, mass murder and + horror.... + + Men thought they were historical accidents, "human nature." + + But each one was a move in a Universe-wide battle--and the men who + suffered and died were the big chessmen. + + Finally, one man discovered the truth--and faced his strange destiny + in the ultimate struggle for control of the Universe. + +_First of the Famous Lensman Series_ + + + + +NOVELS OF SCIENCE FICTION by "DOC" SMITH + + +_The Lensman series_ + + TRIPLANETARY + FIRST LENSMAN + GALACTIC PATROL + GRAY LENSMAN + SECOND STAGE LENSMAN + CHILDREN OF THE LENS + MASTERS OF THE VORTEX + +_The Skylark series_ + + THE SKYLARK OF SPACE + SKYLARK THREE + SKYLARK OF VALERON + SKYLARK DU QUESNE + + + + +TRIPLANETARY + +E.E. "DOC" SMITH + +_PYRAMID BOOKS_ _NEW YORK_ + + + + +TRIPLANETARY + +A PYRAMID BOOK +Published by arrangement with the Author + +Fantasy Press edition published 1948 + +Pyramid edition published August 1965 +Eighth printing, January 1973 + +Copyright 1948 by Edward E. Smith, Ph.D. + +No part of this book may be reprinted without +written permission of the publishers. + +All Rights Reserved. + +ISBN 0-515-02890-8 + +Printed in the United States of America + +PYRAMID BOOKS are published by Pyramid Communications, Inc. +Its trademarks consisting of the word "Pyramid" and the portrayal +of a pyramid are registered in the United States Patent Office. + +Pyramid Communications, Inc. +919 Third Avenue +New York, New York 10022 + +CONDITIONS OF SALE + +"Any sale, lease, transfer or circulation of this book by way of trade or +in quantities of more than one copy, without the original cover bound +thereon, will be construed by the Publisher as evidence that the parties +to such transaction have illegal possession of the book, and will subject +them to claim by the Publisher and prosecution under law." + + * * * * * + +Transcibers Note +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on +this publication was renewed. + + * * * * * + + + + +_TO ROD_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + +Chapter Page + + +BOOK ONE: DAWN + +I. Arisia and Eddore 11 + +II. The Fall of Atlantis 18 + +III. The Fall of Rome 36 + + +BOOK TWO: THE WORLD WAR + +IV. 1918 53 + +V. 1941 63 + +VI. 19--? 80 + + +BOOK THREE: TRIPLANETARY + +VII. Pirates of Space 93 + +VIII. In Roger's Planetoid 107 + +IX. Fleet Against Planetoid 121 + +X. Within the Red Veil 130 + +XI. Nevian Strife 145 + +XII. Worm, Submarine, and Freedom 159 + +XIII. The Hill 165 + +XIV. The Super-Ship Is Launched 175 + +XV. Specimens 183 + +XVI. Super-Ship in Action 187 + +XVII. Roger Carries On 199 + +XVIII. The Specimens Escape 215 + +XIX. Giants Meet 229 + + + + +BOOK ONE + + + + +DAWN + + + + +CHAPTER 1 + +ARISIA AND EDDORE + + +Two thousand million or so years ago two galaxies were colliding; or, +rather, were passing through each other. A couple of hundreds of +millions of years either way do not matter, since at least that much +time was required for the inter-passage. At about that same time--within +the same plus-or-minus ten percent margin of error, it is +believed--practically all of the suns of both those galaxies became +possessed of planets. + +There is much evidence to support the belief that it was not merely a +coincidence that so many planets came into being at about the same time +as the galactic inter-passage. Another school of thought holds that it +was pure coincidence; that all suns have planets as naturally and as +inevitably as cats have kittens. + +Be that as it may, Arisian records are clear upon the point that before +the two galaxies began to coalesce, there were never more than three +solar systems present in either; and usually only one. Thus, when the +sun of the planet upon which their race originated grew old and cool, +the Arisians were hard put to it to preserve their culture, since they +had to work against time in solving the engineering problems associated +with moving a planet from an older to a younger sun. + +Since nothing material was destroyed when the Eddorians were forced into +the next plane of existence, their historical records also have become +available. Those records--folios and tapes and playable discs of +platinum alloy, resistant indefinitely even to Eddore's noxious +atmosphere--agree with those of the Arisians upon this point. +Immediately before the Coalescence began there was one, and only one, +planetary solar system in the Second Galaxy; and, until the advent of +Eddore, the Second Galaxy was entirely devoid of intelligent life. + +Thus for millions upon untold millions of years the two races, each the +sole intelligent life of a galaxy, perhaps of an entire space-time +continuum, remained completely in ignorance of each other. Both were +already ancient at the time of the Coalescence. The only other respect +in which the two were similar, however, was in the possession of minds +of power. + +Since Arisia was Earth-like in composition, atmosphere, and climate, the +Arisians were at that time distinctly humanoid. The Eddorians were not. +Eddore was and is large and dense; its liquid a poisonous, sludgy syrup; +its atmosphere a foul and corrosive fog. Eddore was and is unique; so +different from any other world of either galaxy that its very existence +was inexplicable until its own records revealed the fact that it did not +originate in normal space-time at all, but came to our universe from +some alien and horribly different other. + +As differed the planets, so differed the peoples. The Arisians went +through the usual stages of savagery and barbarism on the way to +Civilization. The Age of Stone. The Ages of Bronze, of Iron, of Steel, +and of Electricity. Indeed, it is probable that it is because the +Arisians went through these various stages that all subsequent +Civilizations have done so, since the spores which burgeoned into life +upon the cooling surfaces of all the planets of the commingling galaxies +were Arisian, not Eddorian, in origin. Eddorian spores, while +undoubtedly present, must have been so alien that they could not develop +in any one of the environments, widely variant although they are, +existing naturally or coming naturally into being in normal space and +time. + +The Arisians--especially after atomic energy freed them from physical +labor--devoted themselves more and ever more intensively to the +exploration of the limitless possibilities of the mind. + +Even before the Coalescence, then, the Arisians had need neither of +space-ships nor of telescopes. By power of mind alone they watched the +lenticular aggregation of stars which was much later to be known to +Tellurian astronomers as Lundmark's Nebula approach their own galaxy. +They observed attentively and minutely and with high elation the +occurrence of mathematical impossibility; for the chance of two galaxies +ever meeting in direct, central, equatorial-plane impact and of passing +completely through each other is an infinitesimal of such a high order +as to be, even mathematically, practically indistinguishable from zero. + +They observed the birth of numberless planets, recording minutely in +their perfect memories every detail of everything that happened; in the +hope that, as ages passed, either they or their descendants would be +able to develop a symbology and a methodology capable of explaining the +then inexplicable phenomenon. Carefree, busy, absorbedly intent, the +Arisian mentalities roamed throughout space--until one of them struck an +Eddorian mind. + + * * * * * + +While any Eddorian could, if it chose, assume the form of a man, they +were in no sense man-like. Nor, since the term implies a softness and a +lack of organization, can they be described as being amoeboid. They were +both versatile and variant. Each Eddorian changed, not only its shape, +but also its texture, in accordance with the requirements of the moment. +Each produced--extruded--members whenever and wherever it needed them; +members uniquely appropriate to the task then in work. If hardness was +indicated, the members were hard; if softness, they were soft. Small or +large, rigid or flexible; joined or tentacular--all one. Filaments or +cables; fingers or feet; needles or mauls--equally simple. One thought +and the body fitted the job. + +They were asexual: sexless to a degree unapproached by any form of +Tellurian life higher than the yeasts. They were not merely +hermaphroditic, nor androgynous, nor parthenogenetic. They were +completely without sex. They were also, to all intents and purposes and +except for death by violence, immortal. For each Eddorian, as its mind +approached the stagnation of saturation after a lifetime of millions of +years, simply divided into two new-old beings. New in capacity and in +zest; old in ability and in power, since each of the two "children" +possessed in toto the knowledges and the memories of their one "parent." + +And if it is difficult to describe in words the physical aspects of the +Eddorians, it is virtually impossible to write or to draw, in any +symbology of Civilization, a true picture of an Eddorian's--_any_ +Eddorian's--mind. They were intolerant, domineering, rapacious, +insatiable, cold, callous, and brutal. They were keen, capable, +persevering, analytical, and efficient. They had no trace of any of the +softer emotions or sensibilities possessed by races adherent to +Civilization. No Eddorian ever had anything even remotely resembling a +sense of humor. + +While not essentially bloodthirsty--that is, not loving bloodshed for +its own sweet sake--they were no more averse to blood-letting than they +were in favor of it. Any amount of killing which would or which might +advance an Eddorian toward his goal was commendable; useless slaughter +was frowned upon, not because it was slaughter, but because it was +useless--and hence inefficient. + +And, instead of the multiplicity of goals sought by the various entities +of any race of Civilization, each and every Eddorian had only one. The +same one: power. _Power!_ P-O-W-E-R!! + +Since Eddore was peopled originally by various races, perhaps as similar +to each other as are the various human races of Earth, it is +understandable that the early history of the planet--while it was still +in its own space, that is--was one of continuous and ages-long war. And, +since war always was and probably always will be linked solidly to +technological advancement, the race now known simply as "The Eddorians" +became technologists supreme. All other races disappeared. So did all +other forms of life, however lowly, which interfered in any way with the +Masters of the Planet. + +Then, all racial opposition liquidated and overmastering lust as +unquenched as ever, the surviving Eddorians fought among themselves: +"push-button" wars employing engines of destruction against which the +only possible defense was a fantastic thickness of planetary bedrock. + +Finally, unable either to kill or to enslave each other, the +comparatively few survivors made a peace of sorts. Since their own space +was practically barren of planetary systems, they would move their +planet from space to space until they found one which so teemed with +planets that each living Eddorian could become the sole Master of an +ever increasing number of worlds. This was a program very much +worthwhile, promising as it did an outlet for even the recognizedly +insatiable Eddorian craving for power. Therefore the Eddorians, for the +first time in their prodigiously long history of fanatical +non-cooperation, decided to pool their resources of mind and of material +and to work as a group. + +Union of a sort was accomplished eventually; neither peaceably nor +without highly lethal friction. They knew that a democracy, by its very +nature, was inefficient; hence a democratic form of government was not +even considered. An efficient government must of necessity be +dictatorial. Nor were they all exactly alike or of exactly equal +ability; perfect identity of any two such complex structures was in fact +impossible, and any difference, however slight, was ample justification +for stratification in such a society as theirs. + +Thus one of them, fractionally more powerful and more ruthless than the +rest, became the All-Highest--His Ultimate Supremacy--and a group of +about a dozen others, only infinitesimally weaker, became his Council; a +cabinet which was later to become known as the Innermost Circle. The +tally of this cabinet varied somewhat from age to age; increasing by one +when a member divided, decreasing by one when a jealous fellow or an +envious underling managed to perpetrate a successful assassination. + +And thus, at long last, the Eddorians began really to work together. +There resulted, among other things, the hyper-spatial tube and the fully +inertialess drive--the drive which was, millions of years later, to be +given to Civilization by an Arisian operating under the name of +Bergenholm. Another result, which occured shortly after the galactic +inter-passage had begun, was the eruption into normal space of the +planet Eddore. + +"I must now decide whether to make this space our permanent headquarters +or to search farther," the All-Highest radiated harshly to his Council. +"On the one hand, it will take some time for even those planets which +have already formed to cool. Still more will be required for life to +develop sufficiently to form a part of the empire which we have planned +or to occupy our abilities to any great degree. On the other, we have +already spent millions of years in surveying hundreds of millions of +continua, without having found anywhere such a profusion of planets as +will, in all probability, soon fill both of these galaxies. There may +also be certain advantages inherent in the fact that these planets are +not yet populated. As life develops, we can mold it as we please. +Krongenes, what are your findings in regard to the planetary +possibilities of other spaces?" + +The term "Krongenes" was not, in the accepted sense, a name. Or, rather, +it was more than a name. It was a key-thought, in mental shorthand; a +condensation and abbreviation of the life-pattern or ego of that +particular Eddorian. + +"Not at all promising, Your Supremacy," Krongenes replied promptly. "No +space within reach of my instruments has more than a small fraction of +the inhabitable worlds which will presently exist in this one." + +"Very well. Have any of you others any valid objections to the +establishment of our empire here in this space? If so, give me your +thought now." + +No objecting thoughts appeared, since none of the monsters then knew +anything of Arisia or of the Arisians. Indeed, even if they had known, +it is highly improbable that any objection would have been raised. +First, because no Eddorian, from the All-Highest down, could conceive or +would under any circumstances admit that any race, anywhere, had ever +approached or ever would approach the Eddorians in any quality +whatever; and second, because, as is routine in all dictatorships, +disagreement with the All-Highest did not operate to lengthen the span +of life. + +"Very well. We will now confer as to ... but hold! That thought is not +one of ours! Who are you, stranger, to dare to intrude thus upon a +conference of the Innermost Circle?" + +"I am Enphilistor, a younger student, of the planet Arisia." This name, +too, was a symbol. Nor was the young Arisian yet a Watchman, as he and +so many of his fellows were so soon to become, for before Eddore's +arrival Arisia had had no need of Watchmen. "I am not intruding, as you +know. I have not touched any one of your minds; have not read any one of +your thoughts. I have been waiting for you to notice my presence, so +that we could become acquainted with each other. A surprising +development, truly--we have thought for many cycles of time that we were +the only highly advanced life in this universe...." + +"Be silent, worm, in the presence of the Masters. Land your ship and +surrender, and your planet will be allowed to serve us. Refuse, or even +hesitate, and every individual of your race shall die." + +"Worm? Masters? Land my ship?" The young Arisian's thought was pure +curiosity, with no tinge of fear, dismay, or awe. "Surrender? Serve you? +I seem to be receiving your thought without ambiguity, but your meaning +is entirely...." + +"Address me as 'Your Supremacy'," the All-Highest directed, coldly. +"Land now or die now--this is your last warning." + +"Your Supremacy? Certainly, if that is the customary form. But as to +landing--and warning--and dying--surely you do not think that I am +present in the flesh? And can it be possible that you are actually so +aberrant as to believe that you can kill me--or even the youngest +Arisian infant? What a peculiar--what an _extraordinary_--psychology!" + +"Die, then, worm, if you must have it so!" the All-Highest snarled, and +launched a mental bolt whose energies were calculated to slay any living +thing. + +Enphilistor, however, parried the vicious attack without apparent +effort. His manner did not change. He did not strike back. + +The Eddorian then drove in with an analyzing probe, only to be surprised +again--the Arisian's thought could not be traced! And Enphilistor, while +warding off the raging Eddorian, directed a quiet thought as though he +were addressing someone close by his side: + +"Come in, please, one or more of the Elders. There is a situation here +which I am not qualified to handle." + +"We, the Elders of Arisia in fusion, are here." A grave, deeply resonant +pseudo-voice filled the Eddorians' minds; each perceived in +three-dimensional fidelity an aged, white-bearded human face. "You of +Eddore have been expected. The course of action which we must take has +been determined long since. You will forget this incident completely. +For cycles upon cycles of time to come no Eddorian shall know that we +Arisians exist." + +Even before the thought was issued the fused Elders had gone quietly and +smoothly to work. The Eddorians forgot utterly the incident which had +just happened. Not one of them retained in his conscious mind any +inkling that Eddore did not possess the only intelligent life in space. + + * * * * * + +And upon distant Arisia a full meeting of minds was held. + +"But why didn't you simply kill them?" Enphilistor asked. "Such action +would be distasteful in the extreme, of course--almost impossible--but +even I can perceive...." He paused, overcome by his thought. + +"That which you perceive, youth, is but a very small fraction of the +whole. We did not attempt to slay them because we could not have done +so. Not because of squeamishness, as you intimate, but from sheer +inability. The Eddorian tenacity of life is a thing far beyond your +present understanding; to have attempted to kill them would have +rendered it impossible to make them forget us. We must have time ... +cycles and cycles of time." The fusion broke off, pondered for minutes, +then addressed the group as a whole: + +"We, the Elder Thinkers, have not shared fully with you our +visualization of the Cosmic All, because until the Eddorians actually +appeared there was always the possibility that our findings might have +been in error. Now, however, there is no doubt. The Civilization which +has been pictured as developing peacefully upon all the teeming planets +of two galaxies will not now of itself come into being. We of Arisia +should be able to bring it eventually to full fruition, but the task +will be long and difficult. + +"The Eddorians' minds are of tremendous latent power. Were they to know +of us now, it is practically certain that they would be able to develop +powers and mechanisms by the use of which they would negate our every +effort--they would hurl us out of this, our native space and time. We +must have time ... given time, we shall succeed. There shall be Lenses +... and entities of Civilization worthy in every respect to wear them. +But we of Arisia alone will never be able to conquer the Eddorians. +Indeed, while this is not yet certain, the probability is exceedingly +great that despite our utmost efforts at self-development our +descendants will have to breed, from some people to evolve upon a planet +not yet in existence, an entirely new race--a race tremendously more +capable than ours--to succeed us as Guardians of Civilization." + + * * * * * + +_Centuries passed. Millenia. Cosmic and geologic ages. Planets cooled to +solidity and stability. Life formed and grew and developed. And as life +evolved it was subjected to, and strongly if subtly affected by, the +diametrically opposed forces of Arisia and Eddore._ + + + + +CHAPTER 2 + +THE FALL OF ATLANTIS + +1. EDDORE + + +"Members of the Innermost Circle, wherever you are and whatever you may +be doing, tune in!" the All-Highest broadcast. "Analysis of the data +furnished by the survey just completed shows that in general the Great +Plan is progressing satisfactorily. There seem to be only four planets +which our delegates have not been or may not be able to control +properly: Sol III, Rigel IV, Velantia III, and Palain VII. All four, you +will observe, are in the other galaxy. No trouble whatever has developed +in our own. + +"Of these four, the first requires drastic and immediate personal +attention. Its people, in the brief interval since our previous general +survey, have developed nuclear energy and have fallen into a cultural +pattern which does not conform in any respect to the basic principles +laid down by us long since. Our deputies there, thinking erroneously +that they could handle matters without reporting fully to or calling for +help upon the next higher operating echelon, must be disciplined +sharply. Failure, from whatever cause, can not be tolerated. + +"Gharlane, as Master Number Two, you will assume control of Sol III +immediately. This Circle now authorizes and instructs you to take +whatever steps may prove necessary to restore order upon that planet. +Examine carefully this data concerning the other three worlds which may +very shortly become troublesome. Is it your thought that one or more +others of this Circle should be assigned to work with you, to be sure +that these untoward developments are suppressed?" + +"It is not, Your Supremacy," that worthy decided, after a time of study. +"Since the peoples in question are as yet of low intelligence; since one +form of flesh at a time is all that will have to be energized; and since +the techniques will be essentially similar; I can handle all four more +efficiently alone than with the help or cooperation of others. If I read +this data correctly, there will be need of only the most elementary +precaution in the employment of mental force, since of the four races, +only the Velantians have even a rudimentary knowledge of its uses. +Right?" + +"We so read the data." Surprisingly enough, the Innermost Circle agreed +unanimously. + +"Go, then. When finished, report in full." + +"I go, All-Highest. I shall render a complete and conclusive report." + + +2. ARISIA + +"We, the Elder Thinkers in fusion, are spreading in public view, for +study and full discussion, a visualization of the relationships existing +and to exist between Civilization and its irreconcilable and implacable +foe. Several of our younger members, particularly Eukonidor, who has +just attained Watchmanship, have requested instruction in this matter. +Being as yet immature, their visualizations do not show clearly why +Nedanillor, Kriedigan, Drounli, and Brolenteen, either singly or in +fusion, have in the past performed certain acts and have not performed +certain others; or that the future actions of those Moulders of +Civilization will be similarly constrained. + +"This visualization, while more complex, more complete, and more +detailed than the one set up by our forefathers at the time of the +Coalescence, agrees with it in every essential. The five basics remain +unchanged. First: the Eddorians can be overcome only by mental force. +Second: the magnitude of the required force is such that its only +possible generator is such an organization as the Galactic Patrol toward +which we have been and are working. Third: since no Arisian or any +fusion of Arisians will ever be able to spear-head that force, it was +and is necessary to develop a race of mentality sufficient to perform +that task. Fourth: this new race, having been instrumental in removing +the menace of Eddore, will as a matter of course displace the Arisians +as Guardians of Civilization. Fifth: the Eddorians must not become +informed of us until such a time as it will be physically, +mathematically impossible for them to construct any effective +counter-devices." + +"A cheerless outlook, truly," came a somber thought. + +"Not so, daughter. A little reflection will show you that your present +thinking is loose and turbid. When that time comes, every Arisian will +be ready for the change. We know the way. We do not know to what that +way leads; but the Arisian purpose in this phase of existence--this +space-time continuum--will have been fulfilled and we will go eagerly +and joyfully on to the next. Are there any more questions?" + +There were none. + +"Study this material, then, each of you, with exceeding care. It may be +that some one of you, even a child, will perceive some facet of the +truth which we have missed or have not examined fully; some fact or +implication which may be made to operate to shorten the time of conflict +or to lessen the number of budding Civilizations whose destruction seems +to us at present to be sheerly unavoidable." + +Hours passed. Days. No criticisms or suggestions were offered. + +"We take it, then, that this visualization is the fullest and most +accurate one possible for the massed intellect of Arisia to construct +from the information available at the moment. The Moulders therefore, +after describing briefly what they have already done, will inform us as +to what they deem it necessary to do in the near future." + +"We have observed, and at times have guided, the evolution of +intelligent life upon many planets," the fusion began. "We have, to the +best of our ability, directed the energies of these entities into the +channels of Civilization; we have adhered consistently to the policy of +steering as many different races as possible toward the intellectual +level necessary for the effective use of the Lens, without which the +proposed Galactic Patrol cannot come into being. + +"For many cycles of time we have been working as individuals with the +four strongest races, from one of which will be developed the people who +will one day replace us as Guardians of Civilization. Blood lines have +been established. We have encouraged matings which concentrate traits +of strength and dissipate those of weakness. While no very great +departure from the norm, either physically or mentally, will take place +until after the penultimates have been allowed to meet and to mate, a +definite general improvement of each race has been unavoidable. + +"Thus the Eddorians have already interested themselves in our budding +Civilization upon the planet Tellus, and it is inevitable that they will +very shortly interfere with our work upon the other three. These four +young Civilizations must be allowed to fall. It is to warn every Arisian +against well-meant but inconsidered action that this conference was +called. We ourselves will operate through forms of flesh of no higher +intelligence than, and indistinguishable from, the natives of the +planets affected. No traceable connection will exist between those forms +and us. No other Arisians will operate within extreme range of any one +of those four planets; they will from now on be given the same status as +has been so long accorded Eddore itself. The Eddorians must not learn of +us until after it is too late for them to act effectively upon that +knowledge. Any chance bit of information obtained by any Eddorian must +be obliterated at once. It is to guard against and to negate such +accidental disclosures that our Watchmen have been trained." + +"But if all of our Civilizations go down...." Eukonidor began to +protest. + +"Study will show you, youth, that the general level of mind, and hence +of strength, is rising," the fused Elders interrupted. "The trend is +ever upward; each peak and valley being higher than its predecessor. +When the indicated level has been reached--the level at which the +efficient use of the Lens will become possible--we will not only allow +ourselves to become known to them; we will engage them at every point." + +"One factor remains obscure." A Thinker broke the ensuing silence. "In +this visualization I do not perceive anything to preclude the +possibility that the Eddorians may at any time visualize us. Granted +that the Elders of long ago did not merely visualize the Eddorians, but +perceived them in time-space surveys; that they and subsequent Elders +were able to maintain the status quo; and that the Eddorian way of +thought is essentially mechanistic, rather than philosophic, in nature. +There is still a possibility that the enemy may be able to deduce us by +processes of logic alone. This thought is particularly disturbing to me +at the present time because a rigid statistical analysis of the +occurrences upon those four planets shows that they cannot possibly +have been due to chance. With such an analysis as a starting point, a +mind of even moderate ability could visualize us practically in toto. I +assume, however, that this possibility has been taken into +consideration, and suggest that the membership be informed." + +"The point is well taken. The possibility exists. While the probability +is very great that such an analysis will not be made until after we have +declared ourselves, it is not a certainty. Immediately upon deducing our +existence, however, the Eddorians would begin to build against us, upon +the four planets and elsewhere. Since there is only one effective +counter-structure possible, and since we Elders have long been alert to +detect the first indications of that particular activity, we know that +the situation remains unchanged. If it changes, we will call at once +another full meeting of minds. Are there any other matters of moment...? +If not, this conference will dissolve." + + +3. ATLANTIS + +Ariponides, recently elected Faros of Atlantis for his third five-year +term, stood at a window of his office atop the towering Farostery. His +hands were clasped loosely behind his back. He did not really see the +tremendous expanse of quiet ocean, nor the bustling harbor, nor the +metropolis spread out so magnificently and so busily beneath him. He +stood there, motionless, until a subtle vibration warned him that +visitors were approaching his door. + +"Come in, gentlemen.... Please be seated." He sat down at one end of a +table molded of transparent plastic. "Psychologist Talmonides, Statesman +Cleto, Minister Philamon, Minister Marxes and Officer Artomenes, I have +asked you to come here personally because I have every reason to believe +that the shielding of this room is proof against eavesdroppers; a thing +which can no longer be said of our supposedly private television +channels. We must discuss, and if possible come to some decision +concerning, the state in which our nation now finds itself. + +"Each of us knows within himself exactly what he is. Of our own powers, +we cannot surely know each others' inward selves. The tools and +techniques of psychology, however, are potent and exact; and Talmonides, +after exhaustive and rigorous examination of each one of us, has +certified that no taint of disloyalty exists among us." + +"Which certification is not worth a damn," the burly Officer declared. +"What assurance do we have that Talmonides himself is not one of the +ringleaders? Mind you, I have no reason to believe that he is not +completely loyal. In fact, since he has been one of my best friends for +over twenty years, I believe implicitly that he is. Nevertheless the +plain fact is, Ariponides, that all the precautions you have taken, and +any you can take, are and will be useless insofar as definite knowledge +is concerned. The real truth is and will remain unknown." + +"You are right," the Psychologist conceded. "And, such being the case, +perhaps I should withdraw from the meeting." + +"That wouldn't help, either." Artomenes shook his head. "Any competent +plotter would be prepared for this, as for any other contingency. One of +us others would be the real operator." + +"And the fact that our Officer is the one who is splitting hairs so +finely could be taken to indicate which one of us the real operator +could be," Marxes pointed out, cuttingly. + +"Gentlemen! Gentlemen!" Ariponides protested. "While absolute certainty +is of course impossible to any finite mind, you all know how Talmonides +was tested; you know that in his case there is no reasonable doubt. Such +chance as exists, however, must be taken, for if we do not trust each +other fully in this undertaking, failure is inevitable. With this word +of warning I will get on with my report. + +"This worldwide frenzy of unrest followed closely upon the controlled +liberation of atomic energy and may be--probably is--traceable to it. It +is in no part due to imperialistic aims or acts on the part of Atlantis. +This fact cannot be stressed too strongly. We never have been and are +not now interested in Empire. It is true that the other nations began as +Atlantean colonies, but no attempt was ever made to hold any one of them +in colonial status against the wish of its electorate. All nations were +and are sister states. We gain or lose together. Atlantis, the parent, +was and is a clearing-house, a co-ordinator of effort, but has never +claimed or sought authority to rule; all decisions being based upon free +debate and free and secret ballot. + +"But now! Parties and factions everywhere, even in old Atlantis. Every +nation is torn by internal dissensions and strife. Nor is this all. +Uighar as a nation is insensately jealous of the Islands of the South, +who in turn are jealous of Maya. Maya of Bantu, Bantu of Ekopt, Ekopt of +Norheim, and Norheim of Uighar. A vicious circle, worsened by other +jealousies and hatreds intercrossing everywhere. Each fears that some +other is about to try to seize control of the entire world; and there +seems to be spreading rapidly the utterly baseless belief that Atlantis +itself is about to reduce all other nations of Earth to vassalage. + +"This is a bald statement of the present condition of the world as I see +it. Since I can see no other course possible within the constituted +framework of our democratic government, I recommend that we continue our +present activities, such as the international treaties and agreements +upon which we are now at work, intensifying our effort wherever +possible. We will now hear from Statesman Cleto." + +"You have outlined the situation clearly enough, Faros. My thought, +however, is that the principal cause of the trouble is the coming into +being of this multiplicity of political parties, particularly those +composed principally of crackpots and extremists. The connection with +atomic energy is clear: since the atomic bomb gives a small group of +people the power to destroy the world, they reason that it thereby +confers upon them the authority to dictate to the world. My +recommendation is merely a special case of yours; that every effort be +made to influence the electorates of Norheim and of Uighar into +supporting an effective international control of atomic energy." + +"You have your data tabulated in symbolics?" asked Talmonides, from his +seat at the keyboard of a calculating machine. + +"Yes. Here they are." + +"Thanks." + +"Minister Philamon," the Faros announced. + +"As I see it--as any intelligent man should be able to see it--the +principal contribution of atomic energy to this worldwide chaos was the +complete demoralization of labor," the gray-haired Minister of Trade +stated, flatly. "Output per man-hour should have gone up at least twenty +percent, in which case prices would automatically have come down. +Instead, short-sighted guilds imposed drastic curbs on production, and +now seem to be surprised that as production falls and hourly wages rise, +prices also rise and real income drops. Only one course is possible, +gentlemen; labor _must_ be made to listen to reason. This +feather-bedding, this protected loafing, this...." + +"I protest!" Marxes, Minister of Work, leaped to his feet. "The blame +lies squarely with the capitalists. Their greed, their rapacity, their +exploitation of...." + +"One moment, please!" Ariponides rapped the table sharply. "It is highly +significant of the deplorable condition of the times that two Ministers +of State should speak as you two have just spoken. I take it that +neither of you has anything new to contribute to this symposium?" + +Both claimed the floor, but both were refused it by vote. + +"Hand your tabulated data to Talmonides," the Faros directed. "Officer +Artomenes?" + +"You, our Faros, have more than intimated that our defense program, for +which I am primarily responsible, has been largely to blame for what has +happened," the grizzled warrior began. "In part, perhaps it was--one +must be blind indeed not to see the connection, and biased indeed not to +admit it. But what should I have done, knowing that there is no +practical defense against the atomic bomb? Every nation has them, and is +manufacturing more and more. Every nation is infested with the agents of +every other. Should I have tried to keep Atlantis toothless in a world +bristling with fangs? And could I--or anyone else--have succeeded in +doing so?" + +"Probably not. No criticism was intended; we must deal with the +situation as it actually exists. Your recommendations, please?" + +"I have thought this thing over day and night, and can see no solution +which can be made acceptable to our--or to any real--democracy. +Nevertheless, I have one recommendation to make. We all know that +Norheim and Uighar are the sore spots--particularly Norheim. We have +more bombs as of now than both of them together. We know that Uighar's +super-sonic jobs are ready. We don't know exactly what Norheim has, +since they cut my Intelligence line a while back, but I'm sending over +another operative--my best man, too--tonight. If he finds out that we +have enough advantage in speed, and I'm pretty sure that we have, I say +hit both Norheim and Uighar right then, while we can, before they hit +us. And hit them hard--pulverize them. Then set up a world government +strong enough to knock out any nation--including Atlantis--that will not +cooperate with it. This course of action is flagrantly against all +international law and all the principles of democracy, I know; and even +it might not work. It is, however, as far as I can see, the only course +which _can_ work." + +"You--we all--perceive its weaknesses." The Faros thought for minutes. +"You cannot be sure that your Intelligence has located all of the danger +points, and many of them must be so far underground as to be safe from +even our heaviest missiles. We all, including you, believe that the +Psychologist is right in holding that the reaction of the other nations +to such action would be both unfavorable and violent. Your report, +please, Talmonides." + +"I have already put my data into the integrator." The Psychologist +punched a button and the mechanism began to whir and to click. "I have +only one new fact of any importance; the name of one of the higher-ups +and its corollary implication that there may be some degree of +cooperation between Norheim and Uighar...." + +He broke off as the machine stopped clicking and ejected its report. + +"Look at that graph--up ten points in seven days!" Talmonides pointed a +finger. "The situation is deteriorating faster and faster. The +conclusion is unavoidable--you can see yourselves that this summation +line is fast approaching unity--that the outbreaks will become +uncontrollable in approximately eight days. With one slight +exception--here--you will notice that the lines of organization and +purpose are as random as ever. In spite of this conclusive integration I +would be tempted to believe that this seeming lack of coherence was due +to insufficient data--that back of this whole movement there is a +carefully-set-up and completely-integrated plan--except for the fact +that the factions and the nations are so evenly matched. But the data +are sufficient. It is shown conclusively that no one of the other +nations can possibly win, even by totally destroying Atlantis. They +would merely destroy each other and our entire Civilization. According +to this forecast, in arriving at which the data furnished by our Officer +were prime determinants, that will surely be the outcome unless remedial +measures be taken at once. You are of course sure of your facts, +Artomenes?" + +"I am sure. But you said you had a name, and that it indicated a +Norheim-Uighar hookup. What is that name?" + +"An old friend of yours...." + +"Lo Sung!" The words as spoken were a curse of fury. + +"None other. And, unfortunately, there is as yet no course of action +indicated which is at all promising of success." + +"Use mine, then!" Artomenes jumped up and banged the table with his +fist. "Let me send two flights of rockets over right now that will blow +Uigharstoy and Norgrad into radioactive dust and make a thousand square +miles around each of them uninhabitable for ten thousand years! If +that's the only way they can learn anything, let them learn!" + +"Sit down, Officer," Ariponides directed, quietly. "That course, as you +have already pointed out, is indefensible. It violates every Prime Basic +of our Civilization. Moreover, it would be entirely futile, since this +resultant makes it clear that every nation on Earth would be destroyed +within the day." + +"What, then?" Artomenes demanded, bitterly. "Sit still here and let them +annihilate us?" + +"Not necessarily. It is to formulate plans that we are here. Talmonides +will by now have decided, upon the basis of our pooled knowledge, what +must be done." + +"The outlook is not good: not good at all," the Psychologist announced, +gloomily. "The only course of action which carries any promise whatever +of success--and its probability is only point one eight--is the one +recommended by the Faros, modified slightly to include Artomenes' +suggestion of sending his best operative on the indicated mission. For +highest morale, by the way, the Faros should also interview this agent +before he sets out. Ordinarily I would not advocate a course of action +having so little likelihood of success; but since it is simply a +continuation and intensification of what we are already doing, I do not +see how we can adopt any other." + +"Are we agreed?" Ariponides asked, after a short silence. + +They were agreed. Four of the conferees filed out and a brisk young man +strode in. Although he did not look at the Faros his eyes asked +questions. + +"Reporting for orders, sir." He saluted the Officer punctiliously. + +"At ease, sir." Artomenes returned the salute. "You were called here for +a word from the Faros. Sir, I present Captain Phryges." + +"Not orders, son ... no." Ariponides' right hand rested in greeting upon +the captain's left shoulder, wise old eyes probed deeply into +gold-flecked, tawny eyes of youth; the Faros saw, without really +noticing, a flaming thatch of red-bronze-auburn hair. "I asked you here +to wish you well; not only for myself, but for all our nation and +perhaps for our entire race. While everything in my being rebels against +an unprovoked and unannounced assault, we may be compelled to choose +between our Officer's plan of campaign and the destruction of +Civilization. Since you already know the vital importance of your +mission, I need not enlarge upon it. But I want you to know fully, +Captain Phryges, that all Atlantis flies with you this night." + +"Th ... thank you, sir." Phryges gulped twice to steady his voice. "I'll +do my best, sir." + +And later, in a wingless craft flying toward the airfield, young Phryges +broke a long silence. "So _that_ is the Faros ... I like him, Officer +... I have never seen him close up before ... there's something about +him.... He isn't like my father, much, but it seems as though I have +known him for a thousand years!" + +"Hm ... m ... m. Peculiar. You two are a lot alike, at that, even though +you don't look anything like each other. ... Can't put a finger on +exactly what it is, but it's there." Although Artomenes nor any other of +his time could place it, the resemblance was indeed there. It was in and +back of the eyes; it was the "look of eagles" which was long later to +become associated with the wearers of Arisia's Lens. "But here we are, +and your ship's ready. Luck, son." + +"Thanks, sir. But one more thing. If it should--if I don't get +back--will you see that my wife and the baby are...?" + +"I will, son. They will leave for North Maya tomorrow morning. They will +live, whether you and I do or not. Anything else?" + +"No, sir. Thanks. Goodbye." + +The ship was a tremendous flying wing. A standard commercial job. +Empty--passengers, even crewmen, were never subjected to the brutal +accelerations regularly used by unmanned carriers. Phryges scanned the +panel. Tiny motors were pulling tapes through the controllers. Every +light showed green. Everything was set. Donning a water-proof coverall, +he slid through a flexible valve into his acceleration-tank and waited. + +A siren yelled briefly. Black night turned blinding white as the +harnessed energies of the atom were released. For five and six-tenths +seconds the sharp, hard, beryllium-bronze leading edge of the +back-sweeping V sliced its way through ever-thinning air. + +The vessel seemed to pause momentarily; paused and bucked viciously. She +shuddered and shivered, tried to tear herself into shreds and chunks; +but Phryges in his tank was unconcerned. Earlier, weaker ships went to +pieces against the solid-seeming wall of atmospheric incompressibility +at the velocity of sound; but this one was built solidly enough, and +powered to hit that wall hard enough, to go through unharmed. + +The hellish vibration ceased; the fantastic violence of the drive +subsided to a mere shove; Phryges knew that the vessel had leveled off +at its cruising speed of two thousand miles per hour. He emerged, +spilling the least possible amount of water upon the polished steel +floor. He took off his coverall and stuffed it back through the valve +into the tank. He mopped and polished the floor with towels, which +likewise went into the tank. + +He drew on a pair of soft gloves and, by manual control, jettisoned the +acceleration tank and all the apparatus which had made that unloading +possible. This junk would fall into the ocean; would sink; would never +be found. He examined the compartment and the hatch minutely. No +scratches, no scars, no mars; no tell-tale marks or prints of any kind. +Let the Norskies search. So far, so good. + +Back toward the trailing edge then, to a small escape-hatch beside which +was fastened a dull black ball. The anchoring devices went out first. He +gasped as the air rushed out into near-vacuum, but he had been trained +to take sudden and violent fluctuations in pressure. He rolled the ball +out upon the hatch, where he opened it; two hinged hemispheres, each +heavily padded with molded composition resembling sponge rubber. It +seemed incredible that a man as big as Phryges, especially when wearing +a parachute, could be crammed into a space so small; but that lining had +been molded to fit. + +This ball _had_ to be small. The ship, even though it was on a +regularly-scheduled commercial flight, would be scanned intensively and +continuously from the moment of entering Norheiman radar range. Since +the ball would be invisible on any radar screen, no suspicion would be +aroused; particularly since--as far as Atlantean Intelligence had been +able to discover--the Norheimans had not yet succeeded in perfecting any +device by the use of which a living man could bail out of a super-sonic +plane. + +Phryges waited--and waited--until the second hand of his watch marked +the arrival of zero time. He curled up into one half of the ball; the +other half closed over him and locked. The hatch opened. Ball and +closely-prisoned man plummeted downward; slowing abruptly, with a +horrible deceleration, to terminal velocity. Had the air been any trifle +thicker the Atlantean captain would have died then and there; but that, +too, had been computed accurately and Phryges lived. + +And as the ball bulleted downward on a screaming slant, it _shrank_! + +This, too, the Atlanteans hoped, was new--a synthetic which air-friction +would erode away, molecule by molecule, so rapidly that no perceptible +fragment of it would reach ground. + +The casing disappeared, and the yielding porous lining. And Phryges, +still at an altitude of over thirty thousand feet, kicked away the +remaining fragments of his cocoon and, by judicious planning, turned +himself so that he could see the ground, now dimly visible in the first +dull gray of dawn. There was the highway, paralleling his line of +flight; he wouldn't miss it more than a hundred yards. + +He fought down an almost overwhelming urge to pull his rip-cord too +soon. He had to wait--wait until the last possible second--because +parachutes were big and Norheiman radar practically swept the ground. + +Low enough at last, he pulled the ring. Z-r-r-e-e-k--WHAP! The chute +banged open; his harness tightened with a savage jerk, mere seconds +before his hard-sprung knees took the shock of landing. + +That was close--too close! He was white and shaking, but unhurt, as he +gathered in the billowing, fighting sheet and rolled it, together with +his harness, into a wad. He broke open a tiny ampoule, and as the drops +of liquid touched it the stout fabric began to disappear. It did not +burn; it simply disintegrated and vanished. In less than a minute there +remained only a few steel snaps and rings, which the Atlantean buried +under a meticulously-replaced circle of sod. + +He was still on schedule. In less than three minutes the signals would +be on the air and he would know where he was--unless the Norsks had +succeeded in finding and eliminating the whole Atlantean under-cover +group. He pressed a stud on a small instrument; held it down. A line +burned green across the dial--flared red--vanished. + +"Damn!" he breathed, explosively. The strength of the signal told him +that he was within a mile or so of the hide-out--first-class +computation--but the red flash warned him to keep away. Kinnexa--_it had +better be Kinnexa!_--would come to him. + +How? By air? Along the road? Through the woods on foot? He had no way of +knowing--talking, even on a tight beam, was out of the question. He made +his way to the highway and crouched behind a tree. Here she could come +at him by any route of the three. Again he waited, pressing infrequently +a stud of his sender. + +A long, low-slung ground-car swung around the curve and Phryges' +binoculars were at his eyes. It was Kinnexa--or a duplicate. At the +thought he dropped his glasses and pulled his guns--blaster in right +hand, air-pistol in left. But no, that wouldn't do. She'd be suspicious, +too--she'd have to be--and that car probably mounted heavy stuff. If he +stepped out ready for business she'd fry him, and quick. Maybe not--she +might have protection--but he couldn't take the chance. + +The car slowed; stopped. The girl got out, examined a front tire, +straightened up, and looked down the road, straight at Phryges' hiding +place. This time the binoculars brought her up to little more than arm's +length. Tall, blonde, beautifully built; the slightly crooked left +eyebrow. The thread-line of gold betraying a one-tooth bridge and the +tiny scar on her upper lip, for both of which he had been +responsible--she always did insist on playing cops-and-robbers with boys +older and bigger than herself--it _was_ Kinnexa! Not even Norheim's +science could imitate so perfectly every personalizing characteristic of +a girl he had known ever since she was knee-high to a duck! + +The girl slid back into her seat and the heavy car began to move. +Open-handed, Phryges stepped out into its way. The car stopped. + +"Turn around. Back up to me, hands behind you," she directed, crisply. + +The man, although surprised, obeyed. Not until he felt a finger +exploring the short hair at the back of his neck did he realize what she +was seeking--the almost imperceptible scar marking the place where she +bit him when she was seven years old! + +"Oh, Fry! It _is_ you! _Really_ you! Thank the gods! I've been ashamed +of that all my life, but now...." + +He whirled and caught her as she slumped, but she did not quite faint. + +"Quick! Get in ... drive on ... not too fast!" she cautioned, sharply, +as the tires began to scream. "The speed limit along here is seventy, +and we can't be picked up." + +"Easy it is, Kinny. But _give_! What's the score? Where's Kolanides? Or +rather, what happened to him?" + +"Dead. So are the others, I think. They put him on a psycho-bench and +turned him inside out." + +"But the blocks?" + +"Didn't hold--over here they add such trimmings as skinning and salt to +the regular psycho routine. But none of them knew anything about me, nor +about how their reports were picked up, or I'd have been dead, too. But +it doesn't make any difference, Fry--we're just one week too late." + +"What do you mean, too late? Speed it up!" His tone was rough, but the +hand he placed on her arm was gentleness itself. + +"I'm telling you as fast as I can. I picked up his last report day +before yesterday. They have missiles just as big and just as fast as +ours--maybe more so--and they are going to fire one at Atlantis tonight +at exactly seven o'clock." + +"Tonight! Holy gods!" The man's mind raced. + +"Yes." Kinnexa's voice was low, uninflected. "And there was nothing in +the world that I could do about it. If I approached any one of our +places, or tried to use a beam strong enough to reach anywhere, I would +simply have got picked up, too. I've thought and thought, but could +figure out only one thing that might possibly be of any use, and I +couldn't do that alone. But two of us, perhaps...." + +"Go on. Brief me. Nobody ever accused you of not having a brain, and you +know this whole country like the palm of your hand." + +"Steal a ship. Be over the ramp at exactly Seven Pay Emma. When the lid +opens, go into a full-power dive, beam Artomenes--if I had a second +before they blanketed my wave--and meet their rocket head-on in their +own launching-tube." + +This was stark stuff, but so tense was the moment and so highly keyed up +were the two that neither of them saw anything out of the ordinary in +it. + +"Not bad, if we can't figure out anything better. The joker being, of +course, that you didn't see how you could steal a ship?" + +"Exactly. I can't carry blasters. No woman in Norheim is wearing a coat +or a cloak now, so I can't either. And just look at this dress! Do you +see any place where I could hide even one?" + +He looked, appreciatively, and she had the grace to blush. + +"Can't say that I do," he admitted. "But I'd rather have one of our own +ships, if we could make the approach. Could both of us make it, do you +suppose?" + +"Not a chance. They'd keep at least one man inside all the time. Even if +we killed everybody outside, the ship would take off before we could get +close enough to open the port with the outside controls." + +"Probably. Go on. But first, are you sure that you're in the clear?" + +"Positive." She grinned mirthlessly. "The fact that I am still alive is +conclusive evidence that they didn't find out anything about me. But I +don't want you to work on that idea if you can think of a better one. +I've got passports and so on for you to be anything you want to be, from +a tube-man up to an Ekoptian banker. Ditto for me, and for us both, as +Mr. and Mrs." + +"Smart girl." He thought for minutes, then shook his head. "No possible +way out that I can see. The sneak-boat isn't due for a week, and from +what you've said it probably won't get here. But you might make it, at +that. I'll drop you somewhere...." + +"You will not," she interrupted, quietly but definitely. "Which would +_you_ rather--go out in a blast like that one will be, beside a good +Atlantean, or, after deserting him, be psychoed, skinned, salted, +and--still alive--drawn and quartered?" + +"Together, then, all the way," he assented. "Man and wife. +Tourists--newlyweds--from some town not too far away. Pretty well fixed, +to match what we're riding in. Can do?" + +"Very simple." She opened a compartment and selected one of a stack of +documents. "I can fix this one up in ten minutes. We'll have to dispose +of the rest of these, and a lot of other stuff, too. And you had better +get out of that leather and into a suit that matches this passport +photo." + +"Right. Straight road for miles, and nothing in sight either way. Give +me the suit and I'll change now. Keep on going or stop?" + +"Better stop, I think," the girl decided. "Quicker, and we'll have to +find a place to hide or bury this evidence." + +While the man changed clothes, Kinnexa collected the contraband, +wrapping it up in the discarded jacket. She looked up just as Phryges +was adjusting his coat. She glanced at his armpits, then stared. + +"Where are your blasters?" she demanded. "They ought to show, at least a +little, and even I can't see a sign of them." + +He showed her. + +"But they're so tiny! I never saw blasters like that!" + +"I've got a blaster, but it's in the tail pocket. These aren't. They're +air-guns. Poisoned needles. Not worth a damn beyond a hundred feet, but +deadly close up. One touch anywhere and the guy dies right then. Two +seconds max." + +"Nice!" She was no shrinking violet this young Atlantean spy. "You have +spares, of course, and I can hide two of them easily enough in +leg-holsters. Gimme, and show me how they work." + +"Standard controls, pretty much like blasters. Like so." He +demonstrated, and as he drove sedately down the highway the girl sewed +industriously. + +The day wore on, nor was it uneventful. One incident, in fact--the +detailing of which would serve no useful purpose here--was of such a +nature that at its end: + +"Better pin-point me, don't you think, on that ramp?" Phryges asked, +quietly. "Just in case you get scragged in one of these brawls and I +don't?" + +"Oh! Of course! Forgive me, Fry--it slipped my mind completely that you +didn't know where it was. Area six; pin-point four seven three dash six +oh five. + +"Got it." He repeated the figures. + +But neither of the Atlanteans was "scragged", and at six P.M. an +allegedly honeymooning couple parked their big roadster in the garage at +Norgrad Field and went through the gates. Their papers, tickets +included, were in perfect order; they were as inconspicuous and as +undemonstrative as newlyweds are wont to be. No more so, and no less. + +Strolling idly, gazing eagerly at each new thing, they made their +circuitous way toward a certain small hangar. As the girl had said, this +field boasted hundreds of super-sonic fighters, so many that servicing +was a round-the-clock routine. In that hangar was a sharp-nosed, +stubby-V'd flyer, one of Norheim's fastest. It was serviced and ready. + +It was too much to hope, of course, that the visitors could actually get +into the building unchallenged. Nor did they. + +"Back, you!" A guard waved them away. "Get back to the Concourse, where +you belong--no visitors allowed out here!" + +F-f-t! F-f-t! Phryges' air-gun broke into soft but deadly coughing. +Kinnexa whirled--hands flashing down, skirt flying up-and ran. Guards +tried to head her off; tried to bring their own weapons to bear. +Tried--failed--died. + +Phryges, too, ran; ran backward. His blaster was out now and flaming, +for no living enemy remained within needle range. A rifle bullet +w-h-i-n-g-e-d past his head, making him duck involuntarily and +uselessly. Rifles were bad; but their hazard, too, had been considered +and had been accepted. + +Kinnexa reached the fighter's port, opened it, sprang in. He jumped. She +fell against him. He tossed her clear, slammed and dogged the door. He +looked at her then, and swore bitterly. A small, round hole marred the +bridge of her nose: the back of her head was gone. + +He leaped to the controls and the fleet little ship screamed skyward. He +cut in transmitter and receiver, keyed and twiddled briefly. No soap. He +had been afraid of that. They were already blanketing every frequency he +could employ; using power through which he could not drive even a tight +beam a hundred miles. + +But he could still crash that missile in its tube. Or--could he? He was +not afraid of other Norheiman fighters; he had a long lead and he rode +one of their very fastest. But since they were already so suspicious, +wouldn't they launch the bomb _before_ seven o'clock? He tried vainly to +coax another knot out of his wide-open engines. + +With all his speed, he neared the pin-point just in time to see a trail +of super-heated vapor extending up into and disappearing beyond the +stratosphere. He nosed his flyer upward, locked the missile into his +sights, and leveled off. Although his ship did not have the giant +rocket's acceleration, he could catch it before it got to Atlantis, +since he did not need its altitude and since most of its journey would +be made without power. What he could do about it after he caught it he +did not know, but he'd do _something_. + +He caught it; and, by a feat of piloting to be appreciated only by those +who have handled planes at super-sonic speeds, he matched its course and +velocity. Then, from a distance of barely a hundred feet, he poured his +heaviest shells into the missile's war-head. He _couldn't_ be missing! +It was worse than shooting sitting ducks--it was like dynamiting fish in +a bucket! Nevertheless, nothing happened. The thing wasn't fuzed for +impact, then, but for time; and the activating mechanism would be +shell-and shock-proof. + +But there was still a way. He didn't need to call Artomenes now, even if +he could get through the interference which the fast-approaching +pursuers were still sending out. Atlantean observers would have lined +this stuff up long since; the Officer would know exactly what was going +on. + +Driving ahead and downward, at maximum power, Phryges swung his ship +slowly into a right-angle collision course. The fighter's needle nose +struck the war-head within a foot of the Atlantean's point of aim, and +as he died Phryges knew that he had accomplished his mission. Norheim's +missile would not strike Atlantis, but would fall at least ten miles +short, and the water there was very deep. Very, _very_ deep. Atlantis +would not be harmed. + +It might have been better, however, if Phryges had died with Kinnexa on +Norgrad Field; in which case the continent would probably have endured. +As it was, while that one missile did not reach the city, its frightful +atomic charge exploded under six hundred fathoms of water, ten scant +miles from Atlantis' harbor, and very close to an ancient geological +fault. + +Artomenes, as Phryges had surmised, had had time in which to act, and he +knew much more than Phryges did about what was coming toward Atlantis. +Too late, he knew that not one missile, but seven, had been launched +from Norheim, and at least five from Uighar. The retaliatory rockets +which were to wipe out Norgrad, Uigharstoy, and thousands of square +miles of environs were on their way long before either bomb or +earthquake destroyed all of the Atlantean launching ramps. + +But when equilibrium was at last restored, the ocean rolled serenely +where a minor continent had been. + + + + +CHAPTER 3 + +THE FALL OF ROME + +1. EDDORE + + +Like two high executives of a Tellurian corporation discussing business +affairs during a chance meeting at one of their clubs, Eddore's All +Highest and Gharlane, his second in command, were having the Eddorian +equivalent of an after-business-hours chat. + +"You did a nice job on Tellus," the All-Highest commended. "On the other +three, too, of course, but Tellus was so far and away the worst of the +lot that the excellence of the work stands out. When the Atlantean +nations destroyed each other so thoroughly I thought that this thing +called 'democracy' was done away with forever, but it seems to be mighty +hard to kill. However, I take it that you have this Rome situation +entirely under control?" + +"Definitely. Mithradates of Pontus was mine. So were both Sulla and +Marius. Through them and others I killed practically all of the brains +and ability of Rome, and reduced that so-called 'democracy' to a +howling, aimless mob. My Nero will end it. Rome will go on by +momentum--outwardly, will even appear to grow--for a few generations, +but what Nero will do can never be undone." + +"Good. A difficult task, truly." + +"Not difficult, exactly ... but it's so damned _steady_." Gharlane's +thought was bitter. "But that's the hell of working with such +short-lived races. Since each creature lives only a minute or so, they +change so fast that a man can't take his mind off of them for a second. +I've been wanting to take a little vacation trip back to our old +time-space, but it doesn't look as though I'll be able to do it until +after they get some age and settle down." + +"That won't be too long. Life-spans lengthen, you know, as races +approach their norms." + +"Yes. But none of the others is having half the trouble that I am. Most +of them, in fact, have things coming along just about the way they want +them. My four planets are raising more hell than all the rest of both +galaxies put together, and I know that it isn't me--next to you, I'm the +most efficient operator we've got. What I'm wondering about is why I +happen to be the goat." + +"Precisely because you _are_ our most efficient operator." If an +Eddorian can be said to smile, the All-Highest smiled. "You know, as +well as I do, the findings of the Integrator." + +"Yes, but I am wondering more and more as to whether to believe them +unreservedly or not. Spores from an extinct life-form--suitable +environments--operation of the laws of chance--Tommyrot! I am beginning +to suspect that chance is being strained beyond its elastic limit, for +my particular benefit, and as soon as I can find out who is doing that +straining there will be one empty place in the Innermost Circle." + +"Have a care, Gharlane!" All levity, all casualness disappeared. "Whom +do you suspect? Whom do you accuse?" + +"Nobody, as yet. The true angle never occurred to me until just now, +while I have been discussing the thing with you. Nor shall I either +suspect or accuse, ever. I shall determine, then I shall act." + +"In defiance of _me_? Of _my_ orders?" the All-Highest demanded, his +short temper flaring. + +"Say, rather, in support," the lieutenant shot back, unabashed. "If some +one is working on me through my job, what position are you probably +already in, without knowing it? Assume that I am right, that these four +planets of mine got the way they are because of monkey business inside +the Circle. Who would be next? And how sure are you that there isn't +something similar, but not so far advanced, already aimed at you? It +seems to me that serious thought is in order." + +"Perhaps so.... You may be right.... There have been a few +nonconformable items. Taken separately, they did not seem to be of any +importance; but together, and considered in this new light...." + +Thus was borne out the conclusion of the Arisian Elders that the +Eddorians would not at that time deduce Arisia; and thus Eddore lost its +chance to begin in time the forging of a weapon with which to oppose +effectively Arisia's--Civilization's--Galactic Patrol, so soon to come +into being. + +If either of the two had been less suspicious, less jealous, less +arrogant and domineering--in other words, had not been Eddorians--this +History of Civilization might never have been written; or written very +differently and by another hand. + +Both were, however, Eddorians. + + +2. ARISIA + +In the brief interval between the fall of Atlantis and the rise of Rome +to the summit of her power, Eukonidor of Arisia had aged scarcely at +all. He was still a youth. He was, and would be for many centuries to +come, a Watchman. Although his mind was powerful enough to understand +the Elders' visualization of the course of Civilization--in fact, he had +already made significant progress in his own visualization of the Cosmic +All--he was not sufficiently mature to contemplate unmoved the events +which, according to all Arisian visualizations, were bound to occur. + +"Your feeling is but natural, Eukonidor." Drounli, the Moulder +principally concerned with the planet Tellus, meshed his mind smoothly +with that of the young Watchman. "We do not enjoy it ourselves, as you +know. It is, however, _necessary_. In no other way can the ultimate +triumph of Civilization be assured." + +"But can nothing be done to alleviate...?" Eukonidor paused. + +Drounli waited. "Have you any suggestions to offer?" + +"None," the younger Arisian confessed. "But I thought ... you, or the +Elders, so much older and stronger ... could...." + +"We can not. Rome will fall. It must be allowed to fall." + +"It will be Nero, then? And we can do nothing?" + +"Nero. We can do little enough. Our forms of flesh--Petronius, Acte, and +the others--will do whatever they can; but their powers will be exactly +the same as those of other human beings of their time. They must be and +will be constrained, since any show of unusual powers, either mental or +physical, would be detected instantly and would be far too revealing. On +the other hand, Nero--that is, Gharlane of Eddore--will be operating +much more freely." + +"Very much so. Practically unhampered, except in purely physical +matters. But, if nothing can be done to stop it.... If Nero must be +allowed to sow his seeds of ruin...." + +And upon that cheerless note the conference ended. + + +3. ROME + +"But what have you, Livius, or any of us, for that matter, got to live +for?" demanded Patroclus the gladiator of his cell-mate. "We are well +fed, well kept, well exercised; like horses. But, like horses, we are +lower than slaves. Slaves have some freedom of action; most of us have +none. We fight--fight whoever or whatever our cursed owners send us +against. Those of us who live fight again; but the end is certain and +comes soon. I had a wife and children once. So did you. Is there any +chance, however slight, that either of us will ever know them again; or +learn even whether they live or die? None. At this price, is your life +worth living? Mine is not." + +Livius the Bithynian, who had been staring out past the bars of the +cubicle and over the smooth sand of the arena toward Nero's garlanded +and purple-bannered throne, turned and studied his fellow gladiator from +toe to crown. The heavily-muscled legs, the narrow waist, the +sharply-tapering torso, the enormous shoulders. The leonine head, +surmounted by an unkempt shock of red-bronze-auburn hair. And, lastly, +the eyes--gold-flecked, tawny eyes--hard and cold now with a ferocity +and a purpose not to be concealed. + +"I have been more or less expecting something of this sort," Livius said +then, quietly. "Nothing overt--you have builded well, Patroclus--but to +one who knows gladiators as I know them there has been something in the +wind for weeks past. I take it that someone swore his life for me and +that I should not ask who that friend might be." + +"One did. You should not." + +"So be it. To my unknown sponsor, then, and to the gods, I give thanks, +for I am wholly with you. Not that I have any hope. Although your tribe +breeds men--from your build and hair and eyes you descend from +Spartacus himself--you know that even he did not succeed. Things now are +worse, infinitely worse, than they were in his day. No one who has ever +plotted against Nero has had any measure of success; not even his +scheming slut of a mother. All have died, in what fashions you know. +Nero is vile, the basest of the base. Nevertheless, his spies are the +most efficient that the world has ever known. In spite of that, I feel +as you do. If I can take with me two or three of the Praetorians, I die +content. But by your look, your plan is not what I thought, to storm +vainly Nero's podium yonder. Have you, by any chance, some trace of hope +of success?" + +"More than a trace; much more." The Thracian's teeth bared in a wolfish +grin. "His spies are, as you say, very good. But, this time, so are we. +Just as hard and just as ruthless. Many of his spies among us have died; +most, if not all, of the rest are known. They, too, shall die. Glatius, +for instance. Once in a while, by the luck of the gods, a man kills a +better man than he is; but Glatius has done it six times in a row, +without getting a scratch. But the next time he fights, in spite of +Nero's protection, Glatius dies. Word has gone out, and there are +gladiators' tricks that Nero never heard of." + +"Quite true. One question, and I too may begin to hope. This is not the +first time that gladiators have plotted against Ahenobarbus. Before the +plotters could accomplish anything, however, they found themselves +matched against each other and the signal was always for death, never +for mercy. Has this...?" Livius paused. + +"It has not. It is that which gives me the hope I have. Nor are we +gladiators alone in this. We have powerful friends at court; one of whom +has for days been carrying a knife sharpened especially to slip between +Nero's ribs. That he still carries that knife and that we still live are +proofs enough for me that Ahenobarbus, the matricide and incendiary, has +no suspicion whatever of what is going on." + +(At this point Nero on his throne burst into a roar of laughter, his +gross body shaking with a merriment which Petronius and Tigellinus +ascribed to the death-throes of a Christian woman in the arena.) + +"Is there any small thing which I should be told in order to be of +greatest use?" Livius asked. + +"Several. The prisons and the pits are so crowded with Christians that +they die and stink, and a pestilence threatens. To mend matters, some +scores of hundreds of them are to be crucified here tomorrow." + +"Why not? Everyone knows that they are poisoners of wells and murderers +of children, and practitioners of magic. Wizards and witches." + +"True enough." Patroclus shrugged his massive shoulders. "But to get on, +tomorrow night, at full dark, the remaining hundreds who have not been +crucified are to be--have you ever seen sarmentitii and semaxii?" + +"Once only. A gorgeous spectacle, truly, almost as thrilling as to feel +a man die on your sword. Men and women, wrapped in oil-soaked garments +smeared with pitch and chained to posts, make splendid torches indeed. +You mean, then, that...?" + +"Aye. In Caesar's own garden. When the light is brightest Nero will ride +in parade. When his chariot passes the tenth torch our ally swings his +knife. The Praetorians will rush around, but there will be a few moments +of confusion during which we will go into action and the guards will +die. At the same time others of our party will take the palace and kill +every man, woman, and child adherent to Nero." + +"Very nice--in theory." The Bithynian was frankly skeptical. "But just +how are we going to get there? A few gladiators--such champions as +Patroclus of Thrace--are at times allowed to do pretty much as they +please in their free time, and hence could possibly be on hand to take +part in such a brawl, but most of us will be under lock and guard." + +"That too, has been arranged. Our allies near the throne and certain +other nobles and citizens of Rome, who have been winning large sums by +our victories, have prevailed upon our masters to give a grand banquet +to _all_ gladiators tomorrow night, immediately following the mass +crucifixion. It is going to be held in the Claudian Grove, just across +from Caesar's Gardens." + +"Ah!" Livius breathed deep; his eyes flashed. "By Baal and Bacchus! By +the round, high breasts of Isis! For the first time in years I begin to +live! Our masters die first, then and there ... but hold--weapons?" + +"Will be provided. Bystanders will have them, and armor and shields, +under their cloaks. Our owners first, yes; and then the Praetorians. But +note, Livius, that Tigellinus, the Commander of the Guard, is mine--mine +alone. I, personally, am going to cut his heart out." + +"Granted. I heard that he had your wife for a time. But you seem quite +confident that you will still be alive tomorrow night. By Baal and +Ishtar, I wish I could feel so! With something to live for at last, I +can feel my guts turning to water--I can hear Charon's oars. Like as +not, now, some toe-dancing stripling of a retiarius will entangle me in +his net this very afternoon, and no mercy signal has been or will be +given this day. Such is the crowd's temper, from Caesar down, that even +you will get 'Pollice verso' if you fall." + +"True enough. But you had better get over that feeling, if you want to +live. As for me, I'm safe enough. I have made a vow to Jupiter, and he +who has protected me so long will not desert me now. Any man or any +thing who faces me during these games, dies." + +"I hope so, sin ... but listen! The horns ... and someone is coming!" + +The door behind them swung open. A lanista, or master of gladiators, +laden with arms and armor, entered. The door swung to and was locked +from the outside. The visitor was obviously excited, but stared +wordlessly at Patroclus for seconds. + +"Well, Iron-heart," he burst out finally, "aren't you even curious about +what you have got to do today?" + +"Not particularly," Patroclus replied, indifferently. "Except to dress +to fit. Why? Something special?" + +"_Extra_ special. The sensation of the year. Fermius himself. Unlimited. +Free choice of weapons and armor." + +"Fermius!" Livius exclaimed. "Fermius the Gaul? May Athene cover you +with her shield!" + +"You can say that for me, too," the lanista agreed, callously. "Before I +knew who was entered, like a fool, I bet a hundred sesterces on +Patroclus here, at odds of only one to two, against the field. But +listen, Bronze-head. If you get the best of Fermius, I'll give you a +full third of my winnings." + +"Thanks. You'll collect. A good man, Fermius, and smart. I've heard a +lot about him, but never saw him work. He has seen me, which isn't so +good. Both heavy and fast--somewhat lighter than I am, and a bit faster. +He knows that I always fight Thracian, and that I'd be a fool to try +anything else against him. He fights either Thracian or Samnite +depending upon the opposition. Against me his best bet would be to go +Samnite. Do you know?" + +"No. They didn't say. He may not decide until the last moment." + +"Unlimited, against me, he'll go Samnite. He'll have to. These +unlimiteds are tough, but it gives me a chance to use a new trick I've +been working on. I'll take that sword there--no scabbard--and two +daggers, besides my gladius. Get me a mace; the lightest real mace +they've got in their armory." + +"A _mace_! Fighting _Thracian_, against a _Samnite_?" + +"Exactly. A mace. Am I going to fight Fermius, or do you want to do it +yourself?" + +The mace was brought and Patroclus banged it, with a two-handed +roundhouse swing, against a stone of the wall. The head remained solid +upon the shaft. Good. They waited. + +Trumpets blared; the roar of the vast assemblage subsided almost to +silence. + +"Grand Champion Fermius versus Grand Champion Patroclus," came the +raucous announcement. "Single combat. Any weapons that either chooses to +use, used in any way possible. No rest, no intermission. Enter!" + +Two armored figures strode toward the center of the arena. Patroclus' +armor, from towering helmet down, and including the shield, was of +dully-gleaming steel, completely bare of ornament. Each piece was marred +and scarred; very plainly that armor was for use and had been used. On +the other hand, the Samnite half-armor of the Gaul was resplendent with +the decorations affected by his race. Fermius' helmet sported three +brilliantly-colored plumes, his shield and cuirass, enameled in half the +colors of the spectrum, looked as though they were being worn for the +first time. + +Five yards apart, the gladiators stopped and wheeled to face the podium +upon which Nero lolled. The buzz of conversation--the mace had excited +no little comment and speculation--ceased. Patroclus heaved his +ponderous weapon into the air; the Gaul whirled up his long, sharp +sword. They chanted in unison: + + "Ave, Caesar Imperator! + Morituri te salutant!" + +The starting-flag flashed downward; and at its first sight, long before +it struck the ground, both men moved. Fermius whirled and leaped; but, +fast as he was, he was not quite fast enough. That mace, which had +seemed so heavy in the Thracian's hands a moment before, had become +miraculously maneuverable--it was hurtling through the air directly +toward the middle of his body! It did not strike its goal--Patroclus +hoped that he was the only one there who suspected that he had not +expected it to touch his opponent--but in order to dodge the missile +Fermius had to break his stride; lost momentarily the fine co-ordination +of his attack. And in that moment Patroclus struck. Struck, and struck +again. + +But, as has been said, Fermius was both strong and fast. The first +blow, aimed backhand at his bare right leg, struck his shield instead. +The left-handed stab, shield-encumbered as the left arm was, ditto. So +did the next trial, a vicious forehand cut. The third of the mad flurry +of swordcuts, only partially deflected by the sword which Fermius could +only then get into play, sheared down and a red, a green, and a white +plume floated toward the ground. The two fighters sprang apart and +studied each other briefly. + +From the gladiators' standpoint, this had been the veriest preliminary +skirmishing. That the Gaul had lost his plumes and that his armor showed +great streaks of missing enamel meant no more to either than that the +Thracian's supposedly surprise attack had failed. Each knew that he +faced the deadliest fighter of his world; but if that knowledge affected +either man, the other could not perceive it. + +But the crowd went wild. Nothing like that first terrific +passage-at-arms had ever before been seen. Death, sudden and violent, +had been in the air. The arena was saturated with it. Hearts had been +ecstatically in throats. Each person there, man or woman, had felt the +indescribable thrill of death--vicariously, safely--and every fiber of +their lusts demanded more. More! Each spectator knew that one of those +men would die that afternoon. None wanted, or would permit them both to +live. This was to the death, and death there would be. + +Women, their faces blotched and purple with emotion, shrieked and +screamed. Men, stamping their feet and waving their arms, yelled and +swore. And many, men and women alike, laid wagers. + +"Five hundred sesterces on Fermius!" one shouted, tablet and stylus in +air. + +"Taken!" came an answering yell. "The Gaul is done--Patroclus all but +had him there!" + +"One thousand, you!" came another challenge. "Patroclus missed his +chance and will never get another--a thousand on Fermius!" + +"Two thousand!" + +"Five thousand!" + +"Ten!" + +The fighters closed--swung--stabbed. Shields clanged vibrantly under the +impact of fended strokes, swords whined and snarled. Back and +forth--circling--giving and taking ground--for minute after endless +minute that desperately furious exhibition of skill, of speed and of +power and of endurance went on. And as it went on, longer and longer +past the time expected by even the most optimistic, tension mounted +higher and higher. + +Blood flowed crimson down the Gaul's bare leg and the crowd screamed its +approval. Blood trickled out of the joints of the Thracian's armor and +it became a frenzied mob. + +No human body could stand that pace for long. Both men were tiring fast, +and slowing. With the drive of his weight and armor, Patroclus forced +the Gaul to go where he wanted him to go. Then, apparently gathering his +every resource for a final effort, the Thracian took one short, choppy +step forward and swung straight down, with all his strength. + +The blood-smeared hilt turned in his hands; the blade struck flat and +broke, its length whining viciously away. Fermius, although staggered by +the sheer brute force of the abortive stroke, recovered almost +instantly; dropping his sword and snatching at his gladius to take +advantage of the wonderful opportunity thus given him. + +But that breaking had not been accidental; Patroclus made no attempt to +recover his balance. Instead, he ducked past the surprised and shaken +Gaul. Still stooping, he seized the mace, which everyone except he had +forgotten, and swung; swung with all the totalized and synchronized +power of hands, wrists, arms, shoulders, and magnificent body. + +The iron head of the ponderous weapon struck the center of the Gaul's +cuirass, which crunched inward like so much cardboard. Fermius seemed to +leave the ground and, folded around the mace, to fly briefly through the +air. As he struck the ground, Patroclus was upon him. The Gaul was +probably already dead--that blow would have killed an elephant--but that +made no difference. If that mob knew that Fermius was dead, they might +start yelling for his life, too. Hence, by lifting his head and poising +his dirk high in air, he asked of Caesar his Imperial will. + +The crowd, already frantic, had gone stark mad at the blow. No thought +of mercy could or did exist in that insanely bloodthirsty throng; no +thought of clemency for the man who had fought such a magnificent fight. +In cooler moments they would have wanted him to live, to thrill them +again and yet again; but now, for almost half an hour, they had been +loving the hot, the suffocating thrill of death in their throats. Now +they wanted, and would have, the ultimate thrill. + +"Death!" The solid structure rocked to the crescendo roar of the demand. +"_Death_! DEATH!" + +Nero's right thumb pressed horizontally against his chest. Every vestal +was making the same sign. Pollice verso. Death. The strained and +strident yelling of the mob grew even louder. + +Patroclus lowered his dagger and delivered the unnecessary and unfelt +thrust; and-- + +"Peractum est!" arose one deafening yell. + + * * * * * + +Thus the red-haired Thracian lived; and also, somewhat to his own +surprise, did Livius. + +"I'm glad to see you, Bronze-heart, by the white thighs of Ceres, I am!" +that worthy exclaimed, when the two met, the following day. Patroclus +had never seen the Bithynian so buoyant. "Pallas Athene covered you, +like I asked her to. But by the red beak of Thoth and the sacred Zaimph +of Tanit, it gave me the horrors when you made that throw so quick and +missed it, and I went as crazy as the rest of them when you pulled the +real coup. But now, curse it, I suppose that we'll all have to be on the +lookout for it--or no, unlimiteds aren't common, thank Ninib the Smiter +and his scarlet spears!" + +"I hear you didn't do so badly, yourself," Patroclus interrupted his +friend's loquacity. "I missed your first two, but I saw you take +Kalendios. He's a high-rater--one of the best of the locals--and I was +afraid he might snare you, but from the looks of you, you got only a +couple of stabs. Nice work." + +"Prayer, my boy. Prayer is the stuff. I prayed to 'em in order, and hit +the jackpot with Shamash. My guts curled up again, like they belong, and +I knew that the portents were all in my favor. Besides, when you were +walking out to meet Fermius, did you notice that red-headed Greek +posturer making passes at you?" + +"Huh? Don't be a fool. I had other things to think of." + +"So I figured. So did she, probably, because after a while she came +around behind with a lanista and made eyes at me. I must have the next +best shape to you here, I guess. What a wench! Anyway, I felt better and +better, and before she left I knew that no damn retiarius that ever +waved a trident could put a net past my guard. And they couldn't either. +A couple more like that and I'll be a Grand Champion myself. But they're +digging holes for the crosses and there's the horn that the feast is +ready. This show is going to be really good." + +They ate, hugely and with unmarred appetite, of the heaped food which +Nero had provided. They returned to their assigned places to see +crosses, standing as close together as they could be placed and each +bearing a suffering Christian, filling the whole vast expanse of the +arena. + +And, if the truth must be told, those two men enjoyed thoroughly every +moment of that long and sickeningly horrible afternoon. They were the +hardest products of the hardest school the world has ever known: trained +rigorously to deal out death mercilessly at command; to accept death +unflinchingly at need. They should not and can not be judged by the +higher, finer standards of a softer, gentler day. + +The afternoon passed; evening approached. All the gladiators then in +Rome assembled in the Claudian Grove, around tables creaking under their +loads of food and wine. Women, too, were there in profusion; women for +the taking and yearning to be taken; and the tide of revelry ran open, +wide, and high. Although all ate and apparently drank with abandon, most +of the wine was in fact wasted. And as the sky darkened, most of the +gladiators, one by one, began to get rid of their female companions upon +one pretext or another and to drift toward the road which separated the +festivities from the cloaked and curious throng of lookers-on. + +At full dark, a red glare flared into the sky from Caesar's garden and +the gladiators, deployed now along the highway, dashed across it and +seemed to wrestle briefly with cloaked figures. Then armed, +more-or-less-armored men ran back to the scene of their reveling. +Swords, daggers, and gladii thrust, stabbed, and cut. Tables and benches +ran red; ground and grass grew slippery with blood. + +The conspirators turned then and rushed toward the Emperor's brilliantly +torch-lit garden. Patroclus, however, was not in the van. He had had +trouble in finding a cuirass big enough for him to get into. He had been +delayed further by the fact that he had had to kill three strange +lanistae before he could get at his owner, the man he really wanted to +slay. He was therefore some little distance behind the other gladiators +when Petronius rushed up to him and seized him by the arm. + +White and trembling, the noble was not now the exquisite Arbiter +Elegantiae; nor the imperturbable Augustian. + +"Patroclus! In the name of Bacchus, Patroclus, why do the men go there +now? No signal was given--I could not get to Nero!" + +"What?" the Thracian blazed. "Vulcan and his fiends! It _was_ given--I +heard it myself! What went wrong?" + +"Everything." Petronius licked his lips. "I was standing right beside +him. No one else was near enough to interfere. It was--should have +been--easy. But after I got my knife out I couldn't move. It was his +_eyes_, Patroclus--I swear it, by the white breasts of Venus! He has the +evil eye--I couldn't move a muscle, I tell you! Then, although I didn't +want to, I turned and ran!" + +"How did you find _me_ so quick?" + +"I--I--I--don't know," the frantic Arbiter stuttered. "I ran and ran, +and there you were. But what are we--you--going to do?" + +Patroclus' mind raced. He believed implicitly that Jupiter guarded him +personally. He believed in the other gods and goddesses of Rome. He more +than half believed in the multitudinous deities of Greece, of Egypt, and +even of Babylon. The other world was real and close; the evil eye only +one of the many inexplicable facts of every-day life. Nevertheless, in +spite of his credulity--or perhaps in part because of it--he also +believed firmly in himself; in his own powers. Wherefore he soon came to +a decision. + +"Jupiter, ward from me Ahenobarbus' evil eye!" he called aloud, and +turned. + +"Where are you going?" Petronius, still shaking, demanded. + +"To do the job _you_ swore to do, of course--to kill that bloated toad. +And then to give Tigellinus what I have owed him so long." + +At full run, he soon overtook his fellows, and waded resistlessly into +the fray. He was Grand Champion Patroclus, working at his trade; the +hard-learned trade which he knew so well. No Praetorian or ordinary +soldier could stand before him save momentarily. He did not have all of +his Thracian armor, but he had enough. Man after man faced him, and man +after man died. + +And Nero, sitting at ease with a beautiful boy at his right and a +beautiful harlot at his left, gazed appreciatively through his emerald +lens at the flaming torches; the while, with a very small fraction of +his Eddorian mind, he mused upon the matter of Patroclus and Tigellinus. + +Should he let the Thracian kill the Commander of his Guard? Or not? It +didn't really matter, one way or the other. In fact, nothing about this +whole foul planet--this ultra-microscopic, if offensive, speck of cosmic +dust in the Eddorian Scheme of Things--really mattered at all. It would +be mildly amusing to watch the gladiator consummate his vengeance by +carving the Roman to bits. But, on the other hand, there was such a +thing as pride of workmanship. Viewed in that light, the Thracian could +not kill Tigellinus, because that bit of corruption had a few more jobs +to do. He must descend lower and lower into unspeakable depravity, +finally to cut his own throat with a razor. Although Patroclus would not +know it--it was better technique not to let him know it--the Thracian's +proposed vengeance would have been futility itself compared with that +which the luckless Roman was to wreak on himself. + +Wherefore a shrewdly-placed blow knocked the helmet from Patroclus' head +and a mace crashed down, spattering his brains abroad. + + * * * * * + +Thus ended the last significant attempt to save the civilization of +Rome; in a fiasco so complete that even such meticulous historians as +Tacitus and Suetonius mention it merely as a minor disturbance of Nero's +garden party. + + * * * * * + +_The planet Tellus circled its sun some twenty hundred times. Sixty-odd +generations of men were born and died, but that was not enough. The +Arisian program of genetics required more. Therefore the Elders, after +due deliberation, agreed that that Civilization, too, must be allowed to +fall. And Gharlane of Eddore, recalled to duty from the middle of a +much-too-short vacation, found things in very bad shape indeed and went +busily to work setting them to rights. He had slain one fellow-member of +the Innermost Circle, but there might very well have been more than one +Master involved._ + + + + +BOOK TWO + +THE WORLD WAR + + + + +CHAPTER 4 + +1918 + + +Sobbing furiously, Captain Ralph Kinnison wrenched at his stick--with +half of his control surfaces shot away the crate was hellishly logy. He +could step out, of course, the while saluting the victorious Jerries, +but he wasn't on fire--yet--and hadn't been hit--yet. He ducked and +flinched sidewise as another burst of bullets stitched another seam +along his riddled fuselage and whanged against his dead engine. Afire? +Not yet--good! Maybe he could land the heap, after all! + +Slowly--oh, _so_ sluggishly--the Spad began to level off, toward the +edge of the wheatfield and that friendly, inviting ditch. If the krauts +didn't get him with their next pass.... + +He heard a chattering beneath him--Brownings, by God!--and the expected +burst did not come. He knew that he had been just about over the front +when they conked his engine; it was a toss-up whether he would come down +in enemy territory or not. But now, for the first time in ages, it +seemed, there were machine-guns going that were not aimed at him! + +His landing-gear swished against stubble and he fought with all his +strength of body and of will to keep the Spad's tail down. He almost +succeeded; his speed was almost spent when he began to nose over. He +leaped, then, and as he struck ground he curled up and rolled--he had +been a motorcycle racer for years--feeling as he did so a wash of heat: +a tracer had found his gas-tank at last! Bullets were thudding into the +ground; one shrieked past his head as, stooping over, folded into the +smallest possible target, he galloped awkwardly toward the ditch. + +The Brownings still yammered, filling the sky with cupro-nickeled lead; +and while Kinnison was flinging himself full length into the protecting +water and mud, he heard a tremendous crash. One of those Huns had been +too intent on murder; had stayed a few seconds too long; had come a few +meters too close. + +The clamor of the guns stopped abruptly. + +"We got one! We got one!" a yell of exultation. + +"Stay down! Keep low, you boneheads!" roared a voice of authority, quite +evidently a sergeant's. "Wanna get your blocks shot off? Take down them +guns; we gotta get to hell out of here. Hey, you flyer! Are you O.K., or +wounded, or maybe dead?" + +Kinnison spat out mud until he could talk. "O.K.!" he shouted, and +started to lift an eye above the low bank. He stopped, however, as +whistling metal, sheeting in from the north, told him that such action +would be decidedly unsafe. "But I ain't leaving this ditch right +now--sounds mighty hot out there!" + +"You said it, brother. It's hotter than the hinges of hell, from behind +that ridge over there. But ooze down that ditch a piece, around the +first bend. It's pretty well in the clear there, and besides, you'll +find a ledge of rocks running straight across the flat. Cross over there +and climb the hill--join us by that dead snag up there. We got to get +out of here. That sausage over there must have seen this shindig and +they'll blow this whole damn area off the map. Snap it up! And you, you +goldbricks, get the lead out of your pants!" + +Kinnison followed directions. He found the ledge and emerged, scraping +thick and sticky mud from his uniform. He crawled across the little +plain. An occasional bullet whined through the air, far above him; but, +as the sergeant had said, this bit of terrain was "in the clear." He +climbed the hill, approached the gaunt, bare tree-trunk. He heard men +moving, and cautiously announced himself. + +"OK., fella," came the sergeant's deep bass. "Yeah, it's us. Shake a +leg!" + +"That's easy!" Kinnison laughed for the first time that day. "I'm +shaking already, like a hula-hula dancer's empennage. What outfit is +this, and where are we?" + +"BRROOM!" The earth trembled, the air vibrated. Below and to the north, +almost exactly where the machine-guns had been, an awe-inspiring cloud +billowed majestically into the air; a cloud composed of smoke, vapor, +pulverized earth, chunks of rock, and debris of what had been trees. Nor +was it alone. + +"Crack! Bang! Tweet! Boom! Wham!" Shells of all calibers, high explosive +and gas, came down in droves. The landscape disappeared. The little +company of Americans, in complete silence and with one mind, devoted +themselves to accumulating distance. Finally, when they had to stop for +breath: + +"Section B, attached to the 76th Field Artillery," the sergeant answered +the question as though it had just been asked. "As to where we are, +somewhere between Berlin and Paris is about all I can tell you. We got +hell knocked out of us yesterday, and have been running around lost ever +since. They shot off a rally signal on top of this here hill, though, +and we was just going to shove off when we seen the krauts chasing you." + +"Thanks. I'd better rally with you, I guess--find out where we are, and +what's the chance of getting back to my own outfit." + +"Damn slim, I'd say. Boches are all around us here, thicker than fleas +on a dog." + +They approached the summit, were challenged, were accepted. They saw a +gray-haired man--an old man, for such a location--seated calmly upon a +rock, smoking a cigarette. His smartly-tailored uniform, which fitted +perfectly his not-so-slender figure, was muddy and tattered. One leg of +his breeches was torn half away, revealing a blood-soaked bandage. +Although he was very evidently an officer, no insignia were visible. As +Kinnison and the gunners approached, a first lieutenant--practically +spic-and-span--spoke to the man on the rock. + +"First thing to do is to settle the matter of rank," he announced, +crisply. "I'm First Lieutenant Randolph, of...." + +"Rank, eh?" The seated one grinned and spat out the butt of his +cigarette. "But then, it was important to me, too, when I was a first +lieutenant--about the time that you were born. Slayton, Major-General." + +"Oh ... excuse me, sir...." + +"Skip it. How many men you got, and what are they?" + +"Seven, sir. We brought in a wire from Inf...." + +"A _wire_! Hellanddamnation, why haven't you got it with you, then? Get +it!" + +The crestfallen officer disappeared; the general turned to Kinnison and +the sergeant. + +"Have you got any ammunition, sergeant?" + +"Yes, sir. About thirty belts." + +"Thank God! We can use it, and you. As for you, Captain, I don't +know...." + +The wire came up. The general seized the instrument and cranked. + +"Get me Spearmint ... Spearmint? Slayton--give me Weatherby.... This is +Slayton ... yes, but ... No, but I want ... Hellanddamnation, Weatherby, +shut up and let me talk--don't you know that this wire's apt to be cut +any second? We're on top of Hill Fo-wer, Ni-yun, Sev-en--that's +right--about two hundred men; maybe three. Composite--somebody, +apparently, from half the outfits in France. Too fast and too far--both +flanks wide open--cut off ... Hello! Hello! Hello!" He dropped the +instrument and turned to Kinnison. "You want to go back, Captain, and I +need a runner--bad. Want to try to get through?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"First phone you come to, get Spearmint--General Weatherby. Tell him +Slayton says that we're cut off, but the Germans aren't in much force +nor in good position, and for God's sake to get some air and tanks in +here to keep them from consolidating. Just a minute. Sergeant, what's +your name?" He studied the burly non-com minutely. + +"Wells, sir." + +"What would you say ought to be done with the machine-guns?" + +"Cover that ravine, there, first. Then set up to enfilade if they try to +come up over there. Then, if I could find any more guns, I'd...." + +"Enough. Second Lieutenant Wells, from now. GHQ will confirm. Take +charge of all the guns we have. Report when you have made disposition. +Now, Kinnison, listen. I can probably hold out until tonight. The enemy +doesn't know yet that we're here, but we are due for some action pretty +quick now, and when they locate us--if there aren't too many of their +own units here, too--they'll flatten this hill like a table. So tell +Weatherby to throw a column in here as soon as it gets dark, and to +advance Eight and Sixty, so as to consolidate this whole area. Got it?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Got a compass?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Pick up a tin hat and get going. A hair north of due west, about a +kilometer and a half. Keep cover, because the going will be tough. Then +you'll come to a road. It's a mess, but it's ours--or was, at last +accounts--so the worst of it will be over. On that road, which goes +south-west, about two kilometers further, you'll find a Post--you'll +know it by the motorcycles and such. Phone from there. Luck!" + +Bullets began to whine and the general dropped to the ground and crawled +toward a coppice, bellowing orders as he went. Kinnison crawled, too, +straight west, availing himself of all possible cover, until he +encountered a sergeant-major reclining against the south side of a great +tree. + +"Cigarette, buddy?" that wight demanded. + +"Sure. Take the pack. I've got another that'll last me--maybe more. But +what the hell goes on here? Who ever heard of a major general getting +far enough up front to get shot in the leg, and he talks as though he +were figuring on licking the whole German army. Is the old bird nuts, or +what?" + +"Not so you would notice it. Didn'cha ever hear of 'Hellandamnation' +Slayton? You will, buddy, you will. If Pershing doesn't give him three +stars after this, he's crazier than hell. He ain't supposed to be on +combat at all--he's from GHQ and can make or break anybody in the AEF. +Out here on a look-see trip and couldn't get back. But you got to hand +it to him--he's getting things organized in great shape. I came in with +him--I'm about all that's left of them that did--just waiting for this +breeze to die down, but its getting worse. We'd better duck--over +there!" + +Bullets whistled and stormed, breaking more twigs and branches from the +already shattered, practically denuded trees. The two slid precipitately +into the indicated shell-hole, into stinking mud. Wells' guns burst into +action. + +"Damn! I hated to do this," the sergeant grumbled, "On accounta I just +got half dry." + +"Wise me up," Kinnison directed. "The more I know about things, the more +apt I am to get through." + +"This is what is left of two battalions, and a lot of casuals. They made +objective, but it turns out the outfits on their right and left +couldn't, leaving their flanks right out in the open air. Orders come in +by blinker to rectify the line by falling back, but by then it couldn't +be done. Under observation." + +Kinnison nodded. He knew what a barrage would have done to a force +trying to cross such open ground in daylight. + +"One man could prob'ly make it, though, if he was careful and kept his +eyes wide open," the sergeant-major continued. "But you ain't got no +binoculars, have you?" + +"No." + +"Get a pair easy enough. You saw them boots without any hobnails in 'em, +sticking out from under some blankets?" + +"Yes. I get you." Kinnison knew that combat officers did not wear +hobnails, and usually carried binoculars. "How come so many at once?" + +"Just about all the officers that got this far. Conniving, my guess is, +behind old Slayton's back. Anyway, a kraut aviator spots 'em and dives. +Our machine-guns got him, but not until after he heaved a bomb. Dead +center. Christ, what a mess! But there's six-seven good glasses in +there. I'd grab one myself, but the general would see it--he can see +right through the lid of a mess-kit. Well, the boys have shut those +krauts up, so I'll hunt the old man up and tell him what I found out. +_Damn_ this mud!" + +Kinnison emerged sinuously and snaked his way to a row of blanket +covered forms. He lifted a blanket and gasped: then vomited up +everything, it seemed, that he had eaten for days. But he _had_ to have +the binoculars. + +He got them. + +Then, still retching, white and shaken, he crept westward; availing +himself of every possible item of cover. + +For some time, from a point somewhere north of his route, a machine-gun +had been intermittently at work. It was close; but the very loudness of +its noise, confused as it was by resounding echoes, made it impossible +to locate at all exactly the weapon's position. Kinnison crept forward +inchwise; scanning every foot of visible terrain through his powerful +glass. He knew by the sound that it was German. More, since what he did +not know about machine-guns could have been printed in bill-poster type +upon the back of his hand, he knew that it was a Maxim, Model 1907--a +mean, mean gun. He deduced that it was doing plenty of damage to his +fellows back on the hill, and that they had not been able to do much of +anything about it. And it was beautifully hidden; even he, close as he +must be, couldn't see it. But damn it, there _had_ to be a.... + +Minute after minute, unmoving save for the traverse of his binoculars, +he searched, and finally he found. A tiny plume--the veriest wisp--of +vapor, rising from the surface of the brook. Steam! Steam from the +cooling jacket of that Maxim 1907! And there was the tube! + +Cautiously he moved around until he could trace that tube to its +business end--the carefully-hidden emplacement. There it was! He +couldn't maintain his westward course without them spotting him; nor +could he go around far enough. And besides ... and besides that, there +would be at least a patrol, if it hadn't gone up the hill already. And +there were grenades available, right close.... + +He crept up to one of the gruesome objects he had been avoiding, and +when he crept away he half-carried, half-dragged three grenades in a +canvas bag. He wormed his way to a certain boulder. He straightened up, +pulled three pins, swung his arm three times. + +Bang! Bam! Pow! The camouflage disappeared; so did the shrubbery for +yards around. Kinnison had ducked behind the rock, but he ducked still +deeper as a chunk of something, its force pretty well spent, clanged +against his steel helmet. Another object thudded beside him--a leg, +gray-clad and wearing a heavy field boot! + +Kinnison wanted to be sick again, but he had neither the time nor the +contents. + +And damn! What _lousy_ throwing! He had never been any good at baseball, +but he supposed that he could hit a thing as big as that gun-pit--but +not one of his grenades had gone in. The crew would probably be +dead--from concussion, if nothing else--but the gun probably wasn't even +hurt. He would have to go over there and cripple it himself. + +He went--not exactly boldly--forty-five in hand. The Germans looked +dead. One of them sprawled on the parapet, right in his way. He gave the +body a shove, watched it roll down the slope. As it rolled, however, it +came to life and yelled; and at that yell there occurred a thing at +which young Kinnison's hair stood straight up inside his iron helmet. On +the gray of the blasted hillside hitherto unseen gray forms moved; moved +toward their howling comrade. And Kinnison, blessing for the first time +in his life his inept throwing arm, hoped fervently that the Maxim was +still in good working order. + +A few seconds of inspection showed him that it was. The gun had +practically a full belt and there was plenty more. He placed a box--he +would have no Number Two to help him here--took hold of the grips, +shoved off the safety, and squeezed the trip. The gun roared--what a +gorgeous, what a heavenly racket that Maxim made! He traversed until he +could see where the bullets were striking: then swung the stream of +metal to and fro. One belt and the Germans were completely disorganized; +two belts and he could see no signs of life. + +He pulled the Maxim's block and threw it away; shot the water-jacket +full of holes. That gun was done. Nor had he increased his own hazard. +Unless more Germans came very soon, nobody would ever know who had done +what, or to whom. + +He slithered away; resumed earnestly his westward course: going as fast +as--sometimes a trifle faster than--caution would permit. But there were +no more alarms. He crossed the dangerously open ground; sulked rapidly +through the frightfully shattered wood. He reached the road, strode +along it around the first bend, and stopped, appalled. He had heard of +such things, but he had never seen one; and mere description has always +been and always will be completely inadequate. Now he was walking right +into it--the thing he was to see in nightmare for all the rest of his +ninety-six years of life. + +Actually, there was very little to see. The road ended abruptly. What +had been a road, what had been wheatfields and farms, what had been +woods, were practically indistinguishable, one from the other; were +fantastically and impossibly the same. The entire area had been churned. +Worse--it was as though the ground and its every surface object had been +run through a gargantuan mill and spewed abroad. Splinters of wood, +riven chunks of metal, a few scraps of bloody flesh. Kinnison screamed, +then, and ran; ran back and around that blasted acreage. And as he ran, +his mind built up pictures; pictures which became only the more vivid +because of his frantic efforts to wipe them out. + +That road, the night before, had been one of the world's most heavily +traveled highways. Motorcycles, trucks, bicycles. Ambulances. Kitchens. +Staff-cars and other automobiles. Guns; from seventy-fives up to the big +boys, whose tremendous weight drove their wide caterpillar treads inches +deep into solid ground. Horses. Mules. And people--_especially_ +people--like himself. Solid columns of men, marching as fast as they +could step--there weren't trucks enough to haul them all. That road had +been crowded--jammed. Like State and Madison at noon, only more so. +Over-jammed with all the personnel, all the instrumentation and +incidentalia, all the weaponry, of war. + +And upon that teeming, seething highway there had descended a rain of +steel-encased high explosive. Possibly some gas, but probably not. The +German High Command had given orders to pulverize that particular area +at that particular time; and hundreds, or perhaps thousands, of German +guns, in a micrometrically-synchronized symphony of firepower, had +pulverized it. Just that. Literally. Precisely. No road remained; no +farm, no field, no building, no tree or shrub. The bits of flesh might +have come from horse or man or mule; few indeed were the scraps of metal +which retained enough of their original shape to show what they had once +been. + +Kinnison ran--or staggered--around that obscene blot and struggled back +to the road. It was shell-pocked, but passable. He hoped that the +shell-holes would decrease in number as he went along, but they did not. +The enemy had put this whole road out of service. And that farm, the +P.C., ought to be around the next bend. + +It was, but it was no longer a Post of Command. Either by directed +fire--star-shell illumination--or by uncannily accurate chart-work, they +had put some heavy shell exactly where they would do the most damage. +The buildings were gone; the cellar in which the P.C. had been was now a +gaping crater. Parts of motorcycles and of staff cars littered the +ground. Stark tree trunks--all bare of leaves, some riven of all except +the largest branches, a few stripped even of bark--stood gauntly. In a +crotch of one, Kinnison saw with rising horror, hung the limp and +shattered naked torso of a man; blown completely out of his clothes. + +Shells were--had been, right along--coming over occasionally. Big ones, +but high; headed for targets well to the west. Nothing close enough to +worry about. Two ambulances, a couple of hundred meters apart, were +coming; working their way along the road, between the holes. The first +one slowed ... stopped. + +"Seen anybody--Look out! Duck!" + +Kinnison had already heard that unmistakable, unforgettable screech, was +already diving headlong into the nearest hole. There was a crash as +though the world were falling apart. Something smote him; seemed to +drive him bodily into the ground. His light went out. When he recovered +consciousness he was lying upon a stretcher; two men were bending over +him. + +"What hit me?" he gasped. "Am I...?" He stopped. He was afraid to ask: +afraid even to try to move, lest he should find that he didn't have any +arms or legs. + +"A wheel, and maybe some of the axle, of the other ambulance, is all," +one of the men assured him. "Nothing much; you're practically as good as +ever. Shoulder and arm bunged up a little and something--maybe shrapnel, +though--poked you in the guts. But we've got you all fixed up, so take +it easy and...." + +"What we want to know is," his partner interrupted, "Is there anybody +else alive up here?" + +"Uh-huh," Kinnison shook his head. + +"O.K. Just wanted to be sure. Lots of business back there, and it won't +do any harm to have a doctor look at you." + +"Get me to a 'phone, as fast as you can," Kinnison directed, in a voice +which he thought was strong and full of authority, but which in fact +was neither. "I've got an important message for General Weatherby, at +Spearmint." + +"Better tell us what it is, hadn't you?" The ambulance was now jolting +along what had been the road. "They've got phones at the hospital where +we're going, but you might faint or something before we get there." + +Kinnison told, but fought to retain what consciousness he had. +Throughout that long, rough ride he fought. He won. He himself spoke to +General Weatherby--the doctors, knowing him to be a Captain of Aviation +and realizing that his message should go direct, helped him telephone. +He himself received the General's sizzlingly sulphurous assurance that +relief would be sent and that that quadruply-qualified line would be +rectified that night. + +Then someone jabbed him with a needle and he lapsed into a dizzy, fuzzy +coma, from which he did not emerge completely for weeks. He had lucid +intervals at times, but he did not, at the time or ever, know surely +what was real and what was fantasy. + +There were doctors, doctors, doctors; operations, operations, +operations. There were hospital tents, into which quiet men were +carried; from which still quieter men were removed. There was a larger +hospital, built of wood. There was a machine that buzzed and white-clad +men who studied films and papers. There were scraps of conversation. + +"Belly wounds are bad," Kinnison thought--he was never sure--that he +heard one of them say. "And such contusions and multiple and compound +fractures as those don't help a bit. Prognosis unfavorable--distinctly +so--but we'll soon see what we can do. Interesting case ... fascinating. +What would you do, Doctor, if you were doing it?" + +"I'd let it alone!" A younger, stronger voice declared, fervently. +"Multiple perforations, infection, extravasation, oedema--uh-uh! I am +watching, Doctor, and learning!" + +Another interlude, and another. Another. And others. Until finally, +orders were given which Kinnison did not hear at all. + +"Adrenalin! Massage! Massage hell out of him!" + +Kinnison again came to--partially to, rather--anguished in every fiber +of his being. Somebody was sticking barbed arrows into every square inch +of his skin; somebody else was pounding and mauling him all over, taking +particular pains to pummel and to wrench at all the places where he hurt +the worst. He yelled at the top of his voice; yelled and swore bitterly: +"QUIT IT!" being the expurgated gist of his luridly profane protests. +He did not make nearly as much noise as he supposed, but he made enough. + +"Thank God!" Kinnison heard a lighter, softer voice. Surprised, he +stopped swearing and tried to stare. He couldn't see very well, either, +but he was pretty sure that there was a middle-aged woman there. There +was, and her eyes were not dry. "He is going to live, after all!" + +As the days passed, he began really to sleep, naturally and deeply. + +He grew hungrier and hungrier, and they would not give him enough to +eat. He was by turns sullen, angry, and morose. + +In short, he was convalescent. + +For Captain Ralph K. Kinnison, THE WAR was over. + + + + +CHAPTER 5 + +1941 + + +Chubby, brownette Eunice Kinnison sat in a rocker, reading the Sunday +papers and listening to her radio. Her husband Ralph lay sprawled upon +the davenport, smoking a cigarette and reading the current issue of +EXTRAORDINARY STORIES against an unheard background of music. Mentally, +he was far from Tellus, flitting in his super-dreadnaught through parsec +after parsec of vacuous space. + +The music broke off without warning and there blared out an announcement +which yanked Ralph Kinnison back to Earth with a violence almost +physical. He jumped up, jammed his hands into his pockets. + +"Pearl Harbor!" he blurted. "How in.... How could they have let them get +_that_ far?" + +"But _Frank_!" the woman gasped. She had not worried much about her +husband; but Frank, her son.... "He'll have to go...." Her voice died +away. + +"Not a chance in the world." Kinnison did not speak to soothe, but as +though from sure knowledge. "Designing Engineer for Lockwood? He'll want +to, all right, but anyone who was ever even exposed to a course in +aeronautical engineering will sit this war out." + +"But they say it can't last very long. It can't, can it?" + +"I'll say it can. Loose talk. Five years minimum is my guess--not that +my guess is any better than anybody else's." + +He prowled around the room. His somber expression did not lighten. + +"I knew it," the woman said at length. "You, too--even after the last +one.... You haven't said anything, so I thought, perhaps...." + +"I know I didn't. There was always the chance that we wouldn't get drawn +into it. If you say so, though, I'll stay home." + +"Am I apt to? I let you go when you were really in danger...." + +"What do you mean by _that_ crack?" he interrupted. + +"Regulations. One year too old--Thank Heaven!" + +"So what? They'll need technical experts, bad. They'll make exceptions." + +"Possibly. Desk jobs. Desk officers don't get killed in action--or even +wounded. Why, perhaps, with the children all grown up and married, we +won't even have to be separated." + +"Another angle--financial." + +"Pooh! Who cares about that? Besides, for a man out of a job...." + +"From you, I'll let that one pass. Thanks, Eunie--you're an ace. I'll +shoot 'em a wire." + +The telegram was sent. The Kinnisons waited. And waited. Until, about +the middle of January, beautifully-phrased and beautifully-mimeographed +letters began to arrive. + +"The War Department recognizes the value of your previous military +experience and appreciates your willingness once again to take up arms +in defense of the country ... Veteran Officer's Questionnaire ... please +fill out completely ... Form 191A ... Form 170 in duplicate ... Form +315.... Impossible to forecast the extent to which the War Department +may ultimately utilize the services which you and thousands of others +have so generously offered ... Form ... Form.... Not to be construed as +meaning that you have been permanently rejected ... Form ... Advise you +that while at the present time the War Department is unable to use +you...." + +"Wouldn't that fry you to a crisp?" Kinnison demanded. "What in hell +have they got in their heads--sawdust? They think that because I'm fifty +one years old I've got one foot in the grave--I'll bet four dollars that +I'm in better shape than that cursed Major General and his whole damned +staff!" + +"I don't doubt it, dear." Eunice's smile was, however, mostly of +relief. "But here's an ad--it's been running for a week." + +"CHEMICAL ENGINEERS ... shell loading plant ... within seventy-five +miles of Townville ... over five years experience ... organic chemistry +... technology ... explosives...." + +"They want _you_," Eunice declared, soberly. + +"Well, I'm a Ph.D. in Organic. I've had more than five years experience +in both organic chemistry and technology. If I don't know something +about explosives I did a smart job of fooling Dean Montrose, back at +Gosh Whatta University. I'll write 'em a letter." + +He wrote. He filled out a form. The telephone rang. + +"Kinnison speaking ... yes ... Dr. Sumner? Oh, yes, Chief Chemist.... +That's it--one year over age, so I thought.... Oh, that's a minor +matter. We won't starve. If you can't pay a hundred and fifty I'll come +for a hundred, or seventy five, or fifty.... That's all right, too. I'm +well enough known in my own field so that a title of Junior Chemical +Engineer wouldn't hurt me a bit ... O.K., I'll see you about one o'clock +... Stoner and Black, Inc., Operators, Entwhistle Ordnance Plant, +Entwhistle, Missikota.... What! Well, maybe I could, at that.... +Goodbye." + +He turned to his wife. "You know what? They want me to come down right +away and go to work. Hot Dog! _Am_ I glad that I told that louse +Hendricks exactly where he could stick that job of mine!" + +"He must have known that you wouldn't sign a straight-salary contract +after getting a share of the profits so long. Maybe he believed what you +always say just before or just after kicking somebody's teeth down their +throats; that you're so meek and mild--a regular Milquetoast. Do you +really think that they'll want you back, after the war?" It was clear +that Eunice was somewhat concerned concerning Kinnison's joblessness; +but Kinnison was not. + +"Probably. That's the gossip. And I'll come back--when hell freezes +over." His square jaw tightened. "I've heard of outfits stupid enough to +let their technical brains go because they could sell--for a +while--anything they produced, but I didn't know that I was working for +one. Maybe I'm not exactly a Timid Soul, but you'll have to admit that I +never kicked anybody's teeth out unless they tried to kick mine out +first." + + * * * * * + +Entwhistle Ordnance Plant covered twenty-odd square miles of more or +less level land. Ninety-nine percent of its area was "Inside the fence." +Most of the buildings within that restricted area, while in reality +enormous, were dwarfed by the vast spaces separating them; for +safety-distances are not small when TNT and tetryl by the ton are +involved. Those structures were built of concrete, steel, glass, +transite, and tile. + +"Outside the Fence" was different. This was the Administration Area. Its +buildings were tremendous wooden barracks, relatively close together, +packed with the executive, clerical, and professional personnel +appropriate to an organization employing over twenty thousand men and +women. + +Well inside the fence, but a safety-distance short of the One Line--Loading +Line Number One--was a long, low building, quite inadequately named the +Chemical Laboratory. "Inadequately" in that the Chief Chemist, a highly +capable--if more than a little cantankerous--Explosives Engineer, had +already gathered into his Chemical Section most of Development, most +of Engineering, and all of Physics, Weights and Measures, and Weather. + +One room of the Chemical Laboratory--in the corner most distant from +Administration--was separated from the rest of the building by a +sixteen-inch wall of concrete and steel extending from foundation to +roof without a door, window, or other opening. This was the laboratory +of the Chemical Engineers, the boys who played with explosives high and +low; any explosion occurring therein could not affect the Chemical +Laboratory proper or its personnel. + +Entwhistle's main roads were paved; but in February of 1942, such minor +items as sidewalks existed only on the blue-prints. Entwhistle's soil +contained much clay, and at that time the mud was approximately six +inches deep. Hence, since there were neither inside doors nor sidewalks, +it was only natural that the technologists did not visit at all +frequently the polished-tile cleanliness of the Laboratory. It was also +natural enough for the far larger group to refer to the segregated ones +as exiles and outcasts; and that some witty chemist applied to that +isolated place the name "Siberia." + +The name stuck. More, the Engineers seized it and acclaimed it. They +were Siberians, and proud of it, and Siberians they remained; long after +Entwhistle's mud turned into dust. And within the year the Siberians +were to become well and favorably known in every ordnance plant in the +country, to many high executives who had no idea of how the name +originated. + +Kinnison became a Siberian as enthusiastically as the youngest man +there. The term "youngest" is used in its exact sense, for not one of +them was a recent graduate. Each had had at least five years of +responsible experience, and "Cappy" Sumner kept on building. He hired +extravagantly and fired ruthlessly--to the minds of some, senselessly. +But he knew what he was doing. He knew explosives, and he knew men. He +was not liked, but he was respected. His building was good. + +Being one of the only two "old" men there--and the other did not stay +long--Kinnison, as a Junior Chemical Engineer, was not at first accepted +without reserve. Apparently he did not notice that fact, but went +quietly about his assigned duties. He was meticulously careful with, but +very evidently not in any fear of, the materials with which he worked. +He pelleted and tested tracer, igniter, and incendiary compositions; he +took his turn at burning out rejects. Whenever asked, he went out on the +lines with any one of them. + +His experimental tetryls always "miked" to size, his TNT +melt-pours--introductory to loading forty-millimeter on the Three +Line--came out solid, free from checks and cavitations. It became +evident to those young but keen minds that he, alone of them all, was on +familiar ground. They began to discuss their problems with him. Out of +his years of technological experience, and by bringing everyone present +into the discussion, he either helped them directly or helped them to +help themselves. His stature grew. + +Black-haired, black-eyed "Tug" Tugwell, two hundred pounds of +ex-football-player in charge of tracer on the Seven Line, called him +"Uncle" Ralph, and the habit spread. And in a couple of weeks--at about +the same time that "Injun" Abernathy was slightly injured by being blown +through a door by a minor explosion of his igniter on the Eight line--he +was promoted to full Chemical Engineer; a promotion which went +unnoticed, since it involved only changes in title and salary. + +Three weeks later, however, he was made Senior Chemical Engineer, in +charge of Melt-Pour. At this there was a celebration, led by "Blondie" +Wanacek, a sulphuric-acid expert handling tetryl on the Two. Kinnison +searched minutely for signs of jealousy or antagonism, but could find +none. He went blithely to work on the Six line, where they wanted to +start pouring twenty-pound fragmentation bombs, ably assisted by Tug and +by two new men. One of these was "Doc" or "Bart" Barton, who, the +grapevine said, had been hired by Cappy to be his Assistant. His motto, +like that of Rikki-Tikki-Tavi, was to run and find out, and he did so +with glee and abandon. He was a good egg. So was the other newcomer, +"Charley" Charlevoix, a prematurely gray paint-and-lacquer expert who +had also made the Siberian grade. + +A few months later, Sumner called Kinnison into the office. The latter +went, wondering what the old hard-shell was going to cry about now; for +to be called into that office meant only one thing--censure. + +"Kinnison, I like your work," the Chief Chemist began, gruffly, and +Kinnison's mouth almost dropped open. "Anybody who ever got a Ph.D. +under Montrose would have to know explosives, and the F.B.I. report on +you showed that you had brains, ability, and guts. But none of that +explains how you can get along so well with those damned Siberians. I +want to make you Assistant Chief and put you in charge of Siberia. +Formally, I mean--actually, you have been for months." + +"Why, no ... I didn't.... Besides, how about Barton? He's too good a man +to kick in the teeth that way." + +"Admitted." This _did_ surprise Kinnison. He had never thought that the +irascible and tempestuous Chief would ever confess to a mistake. This +was a Cappy he had never known. "I discussed it with him yesterday. He's +a damned good man--but it's decidedly questionable whether he has got +whatever it is that made Tugwell, Wanacek and Charlevoix work straight +through for seventy two hours, napping now and then on benches and +grabbing coffee and sandwiches when they could, until they got that frag +bomb straightened out." + +Sumner did not mention the fact that Kinnison had worked straight +through, too. That was taken for granted. + +"Well, I don't know." Kinnison's head was spinning. "I'd like to check +with Barton first. O.K.?" + +"I expected that. O.K." + +Kinnison found Barton and led him out behind the testing shed. + +"Bart, Cappy tells me that he figures on kicking you in the face by +making me Assistant and that you O.K.'d it. One word and I'll tell the +old buzzard just where to stick the job and exactly where to go to do +it." + +"Reaction, perfect. Yield, one hundred percent." Barton stuck out his +hand. "Otherwise, I would tell him all that myself and more. As it is, +Uncle Ralph, smooth out the ruffled plumage. They'd go to hell for you, +wading in standing straight up--they might do the same with me in the +driver's seat, and they might not. Why take a chance? You're IT. Some +things about the deal I don't like, of course--but at that, it makes me +about the only man working for Stoner and Black who can get a release +any time a good permanent job breaks. I'll stick until then. O.K.?" It +was unnecessary for Barton to add that as long as he was there he would +really work. + +"I'll say it's O.K.!" and Kinnison reported to Sumner. + +"All right, Chief, I'll try it--if you can square it with the +Siberians." + +"That will not be too difficult." + +Nor was it. The Siberians' reaction brought a lump to Kinnison's throat. + +"Ralph the First, Czar of Siberia!" they yelled. "Long live the Czar! +Kowtow, serfs and vassals, to Czar Ralph the First!" + +Kinnison was still glowing when he got home that night, to the +Government Housing Project and to the three-room "mansionette" in which +he and Eunice lived. He would never forget the events of that day. + +"What a gang! _What_ a gang! But listen, ace--they work under their own +power--you couldn't _keep_ those kids from working. Why should I get the +credit for what they do?" + +"I haven't the foggiest." Eunice wrinkled her forehead--and her +nose--but the corners of her mouth quirked up. "Are you quite sure that +you haven't had _anything_ to do with it? But supper is ready--let's +eat." + +More months passed. Work went on. Absorbing work, and highly varied; the +details of which are of no importance here. Paul Jones, a big, hard, +top-drawer chicle technologist, set up the Four line to pour demolition +blocks. Frederick Hinton came in, qualified as a Siberian, and went to +work on Anti-Personnel mines. + +Kinnison was promoted again: to Chief Chemist. He and Sumner had never +been friendly; he made no effort to find out why Cappy had quit, or had +been terminated, whichever it was. This promotion made no difference. +Barton, now Assistant, ran the whole Chemical Section save for one +unit--Siberia--and did a superlative job. The Chief Chemist's secretary +worked for Barton, not for Kinnison. Kinnison was the Czar of Siberia. + +The Anti-Personnel mines had been giving trouble. Too many men were +being killed by prematures, and nobody could find out why. The problem +was handed to Siberia. Hinton tackled it, missed, and called for help. +The Siberians rallied round. Kinnison loaded and tested mines. So did +Paul and Tug and Blondie. Kinnison was testing, out in the Firing Area, +when he was called to Administration to attend a Staff Meeting. Hinton +relieved him. He had not reached the gate, however, when a guard car +flagged him down. + +"Sorry, sir, but there has been an accident at Pit Five and you are +needed out there." + +"Accident! Fred Hinton! Is he...?" + +"I'm afraid so, sir." + +It is a harrowing thing to have to help gather up what fragments can be +found of one of your best friends. Kinnison was white and sick as he got +back to the firing station, just in time to hear the Chief Safety +Officer say: + +"Must have been carelessness--rank carelessness. I warned this man +Hinton myself, on one occasion." + +"Carelessness, hell!" Kinnison blazed. "You had the guts to warn _me_ +once, too, and I've forgotten more about safety in explosives than you +ever will know. Fred Hinton was _not_ careless--if I hadn't been called +in, that would have been me." + +"What is it, then?" + +"I don't know--yet. I tell you now, though, Major Moulton, that I _will_ +know, and the minute I find out I'll talk to you again." + +He went back to Siberia, where he found Tug and Paul, faces still +tear-streaked, staring at something that looked like a small piece of +wire. + +"This is it, Uncle Ralph," Tug said, brokenly. "Don't see how it could +be, but it is." + +"What is what?" Kinnison demanded. + +"Firing pin. Brittle. When you pull the safety, the force of the spring +must break it off at this constricted section here." + +"But damn it, Tug, it doesn't make sense. It's tension ... but +wait--there'd be some horizontal component, at that. But they'd have to +be brittle as glass." + +"I know it. It doesn't seem to make much sense. But we were there, you +know--and I assembled every one of those God damned mines myself. +Nothing else could possibly have made that mine go off just when it +did." + +"O.K., Tug. We'll test 'em. Call Bart in--he can have the scale-lab boys +rig us up a gadget by the time we can get some more of those pins in off +the line." + +They tested a hundred, under the normal tension of the spring, and three +of them broke. They tested another hundred. Five broke. They stared at +each other. + +"That's it." Kinnison declared. "But this will stink to high +Heaven--have Inspection break out a new lot and we'll test a thousand." + +Of that thousand pins, thirty two broke. + +"Bart, will you dictate a one-page preliminary report to Vera and rush +it over to Building One as fast as you can? I'll go over and tell +Moulton a few things." + +Major Moulton was, as usual, "in conference," but Kinnison was in no +mood to wait. + +"Tell him," he instructed the Major's private secretary, who had barred +his way, "that either he will talk to me right now or I will call +District Safety over his head. I'll give him sixty seconds to decide +which." + +Moulton decided to see him. "I'm very busy, Doctor Kinnison, but...." + +"I don't give a swivel-eyed tinker's damn how busy you are. I told you +that the minute I found out what was the matter with the M2 mine I'd +talk to you again. Here I am. Brittle firing pins. Three and two-tenths +percent defective. So I'm...." + +"Very irregular, Doctor. The matter will have to go through +channels...." + +"Not this one. The formal report is going through channels, but as I +started to tell you, this is an emergency report to you as Chief of +Safety. Since the defect is not covered by specs, neither Process nor +Ordnance can reject except by test, and whoever does the testing will +very probably be killed. Therefore, as every employee of Stoner and +Black is not only authorized but positively instructed to do upon +discovering an unsafe condition, I am reporting it direct to Safety. +Since my whiskers are a trifle longer than an operator's, I am reporting +it direct to the Head of the Safety Division; and I am telling you that +if you don't do something about it damned quick--stop production and +slap a HOLD order on all the M2AP's you can reach--I'll call District +and make you personally responsible for every premature that occurs from +now on." + +Since any safety man, anywhere, would much rather stop a process than +authorize one, and since this particular safety man loved to throw his +weight around, Kinnison was surprised that Moulton did not act +instantly. The fact that he did not so act should have, but did not, +give the naive Kinnison much information as to conditions existing +Outside the Fence. + +"But they need those mines very badly; they are an item of very heavy +production. If we stop them ... how long? Have you any suggestions?" + +"Yes. Call District and have them rush through a change of spec--include +heat-treat and a modified Charpy test. In the meantime, we can get back +into full production tomorrow if you have District slap a +hundred-per-cent inspection onto those pins." + +"Excellent! We can do that--very fine work, Doctor! Miss Morgan, get +District at once!" + +This, too, should have warned Kinnison, but it did not. He went back to +the Laboratory. + +Tempus fugited. + +Orders came to get ready to load M67 H.E., A.T. (105 m/m High Explosive, +Armor Tearing) shell on the Nine, and the Siberians went joyously to +work upon the new load. The explosive was to be a mixture of TNT and a +polysyllabic compound, everything about which was highly confidential +and restricted. + +"But what the hell's so hush-hush about _that_ stuff?" demanded Blondie, +who, with five or six others, was crowding around the Czar's desk. +Unlike the days of Cappy Sumner, the private office of the Chief Chemist +was now as much Siberia as Siberia itself. "The Germans developed it +originally, didn't they?" + +"Yes, and the Italians used it against the Ethiopians--which was why +their bombs were so effective. But it says 'hush-hush,' so that's the +way it will be. And if you talk in your sleep, Blondie, tell Betty not +to listen." + +The Siberians worked. The M67 was put into production. It was such a +success that orders for it came in faster than they could be filled. +Production was speeded up. Small cavitations began to appear. Nothing +serious, since they passed Inspection. Nevertheless, Kinnison protested, +in a formal report, receipt of which was formally acknowledged. + +General Somebody-or-other, Entwhistle's Commanding Officer, whom none of +the Siberians had ever met, was transferred to more active duty, and a +colonel--Snodgrass or some such name--took his place. Ordnance got a new +Chief Inspector. + +An M67, Entwhistle loaded, prematured in a gun-barrel, killing twenty +seven men. Kinnison protested again, verbally this time, at a staff +meeting. He was assured--verbally--that a formal and thorough +investigation was being made. Later he was informed--verbally and +without witnesses--that the investigation had been completed and that +the loading was not at fault. A new Commanding Officer--Lieutenant-Colonel +Franklin--appeared. + +The Siberians, too busy to do more than glance at newspapers, paid very +little attention to a glider-crash in which several notables were +killed. They heard that an investigation was being made, but even the +Czar did not know until later that Washington had for once acted fast +in correcting a bad situation; that Inspection, which had been under +Production, was summarily divorced therefrom. And gossip spread abroad +that Stillman, then Head of the Inspection Division, was not a big +enough man for the job. Thus it was an entirely unsuspecting Kinnison +who was called into the innermost private office of Thomas Keller, the +Superintendent of Production. + +"Kinnison, how in hell do you handle those Siberians? I never saw +anything like them before in my life." + +"No, and you never will again. Nothing on Earth except a war could get +them together or hold them together. I don't 'handle' them--they can't +be 'handled'. I give them a job to do and let them do it. I back them +up. That's all." + +"Umngpf." Keller grunted. "That's a hell of a formula--if I want +anything done right I've got to do it myself. But whatever your system +is, it works. But what I wanted to talk to you about is, how'd you like +to be Head of the Inspection Division, which would be enlarged to +include your present Chemical Section?" + +"Huh?" Kinnison demanded, dumbfounded. + +"At a salary well up on the confidential scale." Keller wrote a figure +upon a piece of paper, showed it to his visitor, then burned it in an +ash-tray. + +Kinnison whistled. "I'd like it--for more reasons than that. But I +didn't know that you--or have you already checked with the General and +Mr. Black?" + +"Naturally," came the smooth reply. "In fact, I suggested it to them and +have their approval. Perhaps you are curious to know why?" + +"I certainly am." + +"For two reasons. First, because you have developed a crew of technical +experts that is the envy of every technical man in the country. Second, +you and your Siberians have done every job I ever asked you to, and done +it fast. As a Division Head, you will no longer be under me, but I am +right, I think, in assuming that you will work with me just as +efficiently as you do now?" + +"I can't think of any reason why I wouldn't." This reply was made in all +honesty; but later, when he came to understand what Keller had meant, +how bitterly Kinnison was to regret its making! + +He moved into Stillman's office, and found there what he thought was +ample reason for his predecessor's failure to make good. To his way of +thinking it was tremendously over-staffed, particularly with Assistant +Chief Inspectors. Delegation of authority, so widely preached +throughout Entwhistle Ordnance Plant, had not been given even lip +service here. Stillman had not made a habit of visiting the lines; nor +did the Chief Line Inspectors, the boys who really knew what was going +on, ever visit him. They reported to the Assistants, who reported to +Stillman, who handed down his Jovian pronouncements. + +Kinnison set out, deliberately this time, to mold his key Chief Line +Inspectors into just such a group as the Siberians already were. He +released the Assistants to more productive work; retaining of Stillman's +office staff only a few clerks and his private secretary, one Celeste de +St. Aubin, a dynamic, vivacious--at times explosive--brunette. He gave +the boys on the Lines full authority; the few who could not handle the +load he replaced with men who could. At first the Chief Line Inspectors +simply could not believe; but after the affair of the forty millimeter, +in which Kinnison rammed the decision of his subordinate past Keller, +past the General, past Stoner and Black, and clear up to the Commanding +Officer before he made it stick, they were his to a man. + +Others of his Section Heads, however, remained aloof. Pettler, whose +Technical Section was now part of Inspection, and Wilson, of Gages, were +two of those who talked largely and glowingly, but acted obstructively +if they acted at all. As weeks went on, Kinnison became wiser and wiser, +but made no sign. One day, during a lull, his secretary hung out the "In +Conference" sign and went into Kinnison's private office. + +"There isn't a reference to any such Investigation anywhere in Central +Files." She paused, as if to add something, then turned to leave. + +"As you were, Celeste. Sit down. I expected that. Suppressed--if made at +all. You're a smart girl, Celeste, and you know the ropes. You know that +you can talk to me, don't you?" + +"Yes, but this is ... well, the word is going around that they are going +to break you, just as they have broken every other good man on the +Reservation." + +"I expected that, too." The words were quiet enough, but the man's jaw +tightened. "Also, I know how they are going to do it." + +"How?" + +"This speed-up on the Nine. They know that I won't stand still for the +kind of casts that Keller's new procedure, which goes into effect +tonight, is going to produce ... and this new C.O. probably will." + +Silence fell, broken by the secretary. + +"General Sanford, our first C.O., was a soldier, and a good one," she +declared finally. "So was Colonel Snodgrass. Lieutenant Colonel Franklin +wasn't; but he was too much of a man to do the dir ..." + +"Dirty work," dryly. "Exactly. Go on." + +"And Stoner, the New York half--ninety five percent, really--of Stoner +and Black, Inc., is a Big Time Operator. So we get this damned +nincompoop of a major, who doesn't know a f-u-s-e from a f-u-z-e, direct +from a Wall Street desk." + +"So what?" One must have heard Ralph Kinnison say those two words to +realize how much meaning they can be made to carry. + +"So what!" the girl blazed, wringing her hands. "Ever since you have +been over here I have been expecting you to blow up--to smash +something--in spite of the dozens of times you have told me 'a fighter +can not slug effectively, Celeste, until he gets both feet firmly +planted.' When--_when_--are you going to get your feet planted?" + +"Never, I'm afraid," he said glumly, and she stared. "So I'll have to +start slugging with at least one foot in the air." + +That startled her. "Explain, please?" + +"I wanted _proof_. Stuff that I could take to the District--that I could +use to tack some hides out flat on a barn door with. Do I get it? I do +not. Not a shred. Neither can you. What chance do you think there is of +ever getting any real proof?" + +"Very little," Celeste admitted. "But you can at least smash Pettler, +Wilson, and that crowd. _How_ I hate those slimy snakes! I wish that you +could smash Tom Keller, the poisonous moron!" + +"Not so much moron--although he acts like one at times--as an ignorant +puppet with a head swelled three sizes too big for his hat. But you can +quit yapping about slugging--fireworks are due to start at two o'clock +tomorrow afternoon, when Drake is going to reject tonight's run of +shell." + +"Really? But I don't see how either Pettler or Wilson come in." + +"They don't. A fight with those small fry--even smashing them--wouldn't +make enough noise. Keller." + +"Keller!" Celeste squealed. "But you'll...." + +"I know I'll get fired. So what? By tackling him I can raise enough hell +so that the Big Shots will have to cut out at least some of the rough +stuff. You'll probably get fired too, you know--you've been too close to +me for your own good." + +"Not me." She shook her head vigorously. "The minute they terminate you, +I quit. Poof! Who cares? Besides, I can get a better job in Townville." + +"Without leaving the Project. That's what I figured. It's the boys I'm +worried about. I've been getting them ready for this for weeks." + +"But they will quit, too. Your Siberians--your Inspectors--of a surety +they will quit, every one!" + +"They won't release them; and what Stoner and Black will do to them, +even after the war, if they quit without releases, shouldn't be done to +a dog. They won't quit, either--at least if they don't try to push them +around too much. Keller's mouth is watering to get hold of Siberia, but +he'll never make it, nor any one of his stooges.... I'd better dictate a +memorandum to Black on that now, while I'm calm and collected; telling +him what he'll have to do to keep my boys from tearing Entwhistle +apart." + +"But do you think he will pay any attention to it?" + +"I'll say he will!" Kinnison snorted. "Don't kid yourself about Black, +Celeste. He's a smart man, and before this is done he'll know that he'll +have to keep his nose clean." + +"But you--how can you do it?" Celeste marveled. "Me, I would urge them +on. Few would have the patriotism...." + +"Patriotism, hell! If that were all, I would have stirred up a +revolution long ago. It's for the boys, in years to come. They've got to +keep _their_ noses clean, too. Get your notebook, please, and take this +down. Rough draft--I'm going to polish it up until it has teeth and +claws in every line." + +And that evening, after supper, he informed Eunice of all the new +developments. + +"Is it still O.K. with you," he concluded, "for me to get myself fired +off of this high-salaried job of mine?" + +"Certainly. Being you, how can you do anything else? Oh, how I wish I +could wring their necks!" That conversation went on and on, but +additional details are not necessary here. + +Shortly after two o'clock of the following afternoon, Celeste took a +call; and listened shamelessly. + +"Kinnison speaking." + +"Tug, Uncle Ralph. The casts sectioned just like we thought they would. +Dead ringers for Plate D. So Drake hung a red ticket on every tray. +Piddy was right there, waiting, and started to raise hell. So I chipped +in, and he beat it so fast that I looked to see his coat-tail catch +fire. Drake didn't quite like to call you, so I did. If Piddy keeps on +going at the rate he left here, he'll be in Keller's office in nothing +flat." + +"O.K., Tug. Tell Drake that the shell he rejected are going to stay +rejected, and to come in right now with his report. Would you like to +come along?" + +"_Would_ I!" Tugwell hung up and: + +"But do you want _him_ here, Doc?" Celeste asked, anxiously, without +considering whether or not her boss would approve of her eavesdropping. + +"I certainly do. If I can keep Tug from blowing his top, the rest of the +boys will stay in line." + +A few minutes later Tugwell strode in, bringing with him Drake, the +Chief Line Inspector of the Nine Line. Shortly thereafter the office +door was wrenched open. Keller had come to Kinnison, accompanied by the +Superintendent whom the Siberians referred to, somewhat contemptuously, +as "Piddy." + +"Damn your soul, Kinnison, come out here--I want to talk to you!" Keller +roared, and doors snapped open up and down the long corridor. + +"Shut up, you God damned louse!" This from Tugwell, who, black eyes +almost emitting sparks, was striding purposefully forward. "I'll sock +you so damned hard that...." + +"Pipe down, Tug, I'll handle this." Kinnison's voice was not loud, but +it had then a peculiarly carrying and immensely authoritative quality. +"Verbally or physically; however he wants to have it." + +He turned to Keller, who had jumped backward into the hall to avoid the +young Siberian. + +"As for you, Keller, if you had the brains that God gave bastard geese +in Ireland, you would have had this conference in private. Since you +started it in public, however, I'll finish it in public. How you came to +pick _me_ for a yes-man I'll never know--just one more measure of your +stupidity, I suppose." + +"Those shell are perfect!" Keller shouted. "Tell Drake here to pass +them, right now. If you don't, by God I'll...." + +"Shut up!" Kinnison's voice cut. "I'll do the talking--you listen. The +spec says quote shall be free from objectionable cavitation unquote. The +Line Inspectors, who know their stuff, say that those cavitations are +objectionable. So do the Chemical Engineers. Therefore, as far as I am +concerned, they are objectionable. Those shell are rejected, and they +will _stay_ rejected." + +"That's what _you_ think," Keller raged. "But there'll be a new Head of +Inspection, who will pass them, tomorrow morning!" + +"In that you may be half right. When you get done licking Black's boots, +tell him that I am in my office." + +Kinnison re-entered his suite. Keller, swearing, strode away with Piddy. +Doors clicked shut. + +"I _am_ going to quit, Uncle Ralph, law or no law!" Tugwell stormed. +"They'll run that bunch of crap through, and then...." + +"Will you promise not to quit until they do?" Kinnison asked, quietly. + +"Huh?" "What?" Tugwell's eyes--and Celeste's--were pools of +astonishment. Celeste, being on the inside, understood first. + +"Oh--to keep his nose clean--I see!" she exclaimed. + +"Exactly. Those shell will not be accepted, nor any like them. On the +surface, we got licked. I will get fired. You will find, however, that +we won this particular battle. And if you boys stay here and hang +together and keep on slugging you can win a lot more." + +"Maybe, if we raise enough hell, we can make them fire us, too?" Drake +suggested. + +"I doubt it. But unless I'm wrong, you can just about write your own +ticket from now on, if you play it straight." Kinnison grinned to +himself, at something which the young people could not see. + +"You told me what Stoner and Black would do to us," Tugwell said, +intensely. "What I'm afraid of is that they'll do it to you." + +"They can't. Not a chance in the world," Kinnison assured him. "You +fellows are young--not established. But I'm well-enough known in my own +field so that if they tried to black-ball me they'd just get themselves +laughed at, and they know it. So beat it back to the Nine, you kids, and +hang red tickets on everything that doesn't cross-section up to +standard. Tell the gang goodbye for me--I'll keep you posted." + +In less than an hour Kinnison was called into the Office of the +President. He was completely at ease; Black was not. + +"It has been decided to ... uh ... ask for your resignation," the +President announced at last. + +"Save your breath," Kinnison advised. "I came down here to do a job, and +the only way you can keep me from doing that job is to fire me." + +"That was not ... uh ... entirely unexpected. A difficulty arose, +however, in deciding what reason to put on your termination papers." + +"I can well believe that. You can put down anything you like," Kinnison +shrugged, "with one exception. Any implication of incompetence and +you'll have to prove it in court." + +"Incompatibility, say?" + +"O.K." + +"Miss Briggs--'Incompatibility with the highest echelon of Stoner and +Black, Inc.,' please. You may as well wait, Dr. Kinnison; it will take +only a moment." + +"Fine. I've got a couple of things to say. First, I know as well as you +do that you're between Scylla and Charybdis--damned if you do and damned +if you don't." + +"Certainly not! Ridiculous!" Black blustered, but his eyes wavered. +"Where did you get such a preposterous idea? What do you mean?" + +"If you ram those sub-standard H.E.A.T. shell through, you are going to +have some more prematures. Not many--the stuff is actually almost good +enough--one in ten thousand, say: perhaps one in fifty thousand. But you +know damned well that you can't afford _any_. What my Siberians and +Inspectors know about you and Keller and Piddy and the Nine Line would +be enough; but to cap the climax that brainless jackal of yours let the +cat completely out of the bag this afternoon, and everybody in Building +One was listening. One more premature would blow Entwhistle wide +open--would start something that not all the politicians in Washington +could stop. On the other hand, if you scrap those lots and go back to +pouring good loads, your Mr. Stoner, of New York and Washington, will be +very unhappy and will scream bloody murder. I'm sure, however, that you +won't offer any Plate D loads to Ordnance--in view of the temper of my +boys and girls, and the number of people who heard your dumb stooge give +you away, you won't dare to. In fact, I told some of my people that you +wouldn't; that you are a smart enough operator to keep your nose clean." + +"You _told_ them!" Black shouted, in anger and dismay. + +"Yes? Why not?" The words were innocent enough, but Kinnison's +expression was full of meaning. "I don't want to seem trite, but you are +just beginning to find out that honesty and loyalty are a hell of a hard +team to beat." + +"Get out! Take these termination papers and GET OUT!" + +And Doctor Ralph K. Kinnison, head high, strode out of President Black's +office and out of Entwhistle Ordnance Plant. + + + + +CHAPTER 6 + +19--? + + +"Theodore K. Kinnison!" a crisp, clear voice snapped from the speaker of +an apparently cold, ordinary-enough-looking radio-television set. + +A burly young man caught his breath sharply as he leaped to the +instrument and pressed an inconspicuous button. + +"Theodore K. Kinnison acknowledging!" The plate remained dark, but he +knew that he was being scanned. + +"Operation Bullfinch!" the speaker blatted. + +Kinnison gulped. "Operation Bullfinch--Off!" he managed to say. + +"Off!" + +He pushed the button again and turned to face the tall, trim +honey-blonde who stood tensely poised in the archway. Her eyes were wide +and protesting; both hands clutched at her throat. + +"Uh-huh, sweets, they're coming--over the Pole," he gritted. "Two hours, +more or less." + +"Oh, Ted!" She threw herself into his arms. They kissed, then broke +away. + +The man picked up two large suitcases, already packed--everything else, +including food and water, had been in the car for weeks--and made +strides. The girl rushed after him, not bothering even to close the door +of the apartment, scooping up _en passant_ a leggy boy of four and a +chubby, curly-haired girl of two or thereabouts. They ran across the +lawn toward a big, low-slung sedan. + +"Sure you got your caffeine tablets?" he demanded as they ran. + +"Uh-huh." + +"You'll need 'em. Drive like the devil--_stay ahead_! You can--this heap +has got the legs of a centipede and you've got plenty of gas and oil. +Eleven hundred miles from anywhere and a population of one-tenth per +square mile--you'll be safe there if anybody is." + +"It isn't us I'm worried about--it's you!" she panted. "Technos' wives +get a few minutes' notice ahead of the H-blast--I'll be ahead of the +rush and I'll stay ahead. It's you, Ted--_you_!" + +"Don't worry, keed. That popcycle of mine has got legs, too, and there +won't be so much traffic, the way I'm going." + +"Oh, blast! I didn't mean that, and you know it!" + +They were at the car. While he jammed the two bags into an +exactly-fitting space, she tossed the children into the front seat, slid +lithely under the wheel, and started the engine. + +"I know you didn't, sweetheart. I'll be back." He kissed her and the +little girl, the while shaking hands with his son. "Kidlets, you and +mother are going out to visit Grand-dad Kinnison, like we told you all +about. Lots of fun. I'll be along later. Now, Lady Lead-Foot, scram--and +shovel on the coal!" + +The heavy vehicle backed and swung; gravel flew as the accelerator-pedal +hit the floor. + +Kinnison galloped across the alley and opened the door of a small +garage, revealing a long, squat motorcycle. Two deft passes of his hands +and two of his three spotlights were no longer white--one flashed a +brilliant purple, the other a searing blue. He dropped a perforated +metal box into a hanger and flipped a switch--a peculiarly-toned siren +began its ululating shriek. He took the alley turn at an angle of +forty-five degrees; burned the pavement toward Diversey. + +The light was red. No matter--everybody had stopped--that siren could be +heard for miles. He barreled into the intersection; his step-plate +ground the concrete as he made a screaming left turn. + +A siren--creeping up from behind. City tone. Two red spots--city cop--so +soon--good! He cut his gun a trifle, the other bike came alongside. + +"Is this IT?" the uniformed rider yelled, over the coughing thunder of +the competing exhausts. + +"Yes!" Kinnison yelled back. "Clear Diversey to the Outer Drive, and the +Drive south to Gary and north to Waukegan. Snap it up!" + +The white-and-black motorcycle slowed; shot over toward the curb. The +officer reached for his microphone. + +Kinnison sped on. At Cicero Avenue, although he had a green light, +traffic was so heavy that he had to slow down; at Pulaski two policemen +waved him through a red. Beyond Sacramento nothing moved on wheels. + +Seventy ... seventy five ... he took the bridge at eighty, both wheels +in air for forty feet. Eighty five ... ninety ... that was about all he +could do and keep the heap on so rough a road. Also, he did not have +Diversey all to himself any more; blue-and-purple-flashing bikes were +coming in from every side-street. He slowed to a conservative fifty and +went into close formation with the other riders. + +The H-blast--the city-wide warning for the planned and supposedly +orderly evacuation of all Chicago--sounded, but Kinnison did not hear +it. + +Across the Park, edging over to the left so that the boys going south +would have room to make the turn--even such riders as those need _some_ +room to make a turn at fifty miles per hour! + +Under the viaduct--biting brakes and squealing tires at that sharp, +narrow, right-angle left turn--north on the wide, smooth Drive! + +That highway was made for speed. So were those machines. Each rider, as +he got into the flat, lay down along his tank, tucked his chin behind +the cross-bar, and twisted both throttles out against their stops. They +were in a hurry. They had a long way to go; and if they did not get +there in time to stop those trans-polar atomic missiles, all hell would +be out for noon. + +Why was all this necessary? This organization, this haste, this +split-second timing, this city-wide exhibition of insane hippodrome +riding? Why were not all these motorcycle-racers stationed permanently +at their posts, so as to be ready for any emergency? Because America, +being a democracy, could not strike first, but had to wait--wait in +instant readiness--until she was actually attacked. Because every good +Techno in America had his assigned place in some American Defense Plan; +of which Operation Bullfinch was only one. Because, without the presence +of those Technos at their every-day jobs, all ordinary technological +work in America would perforce have stopped. + +A branch road curved away to the right. Scarcely slowing down, Kinnison +bulleted into the turn and through an open, heavily-guarded gate. Here +his mount and his lights were passwords enough: the real test would come +later. He approached a towering structure of alloy--jammed on his +brakes--stopped beside a soldier who, as soon as Kinnison jumped off, +mounted the motorcycle and drove it away. + +Kinnison dashed up to an apparently blank wall, turned his back upon +four commissioned officers holding cocked forty-fives at the ready, and +fitted his right eye into a cup. Unlike fingerprints, retinal patterns +cannot be imitated, duplicated, or altered; any imposter would have died +instantly, without arrest or question. For every man who belonged +aboard that rocket had been checked and tested--_how_ he had been +checked and tested!--since one spy, in any one of those Technos' chairs, +could wreak damage untellable. + +The port snapped open. Kinnison climbed a ladder into the large, but +crowded, Operations Room. + +"Hi, Teddy!" a yell arose. + +"Hi, Walt! Hi-ya, Red! What-ho, Baldy!" and so on. These men were +friends of old. + +"Where are they?" he demanded. "Is our stuff getting away? Lemme take a +peek at the Ball!" + +"I'll say it is! O.K., Ted, squeeze in here!" + +He squeezed in. It was not a ball, but a hemisphere, slightly oblate and +centered approximately by the North Pole. A multitude of red dots moved +slowly--a hundred miles upon that map was a small distance--northward +over Canada; a closer-packed, less numerous group of yellowish-greens, +already on the American side of the Pole, was coming south. + +As had been expected, the Americans had more missiles than did the +enemy. The other belief, that America had more adequate defenses and +better-trained, more highly skilled defenders, would soon be put to +test. + +A string of blue lights blazed across the continent, from Nome through +Skagway and Wallaston and Churchill and Kaniapiskau to Belle Isle; +America's First Line of Defense. Regulars all. Ambers almost blanketed +those blues; their combat rockets were already grabbing altitude. The +Second Line, from Portland, Seattle, and Vancouver across to Halifax, +also showed solid green, with some flashes of amber. Part Regulars; part +National Guard. + +Chicago was in the Third Line, all National Guard, extending from San +Francisco to New York. Green--alert and operating. So were the Fourth, +the Fifth, and the Sixth. Operation Bullfinch was clicking; on schedule +to the second. + +A bell clanged; the men sprang to their stations and strapped down. +Every chair was occupied. Combat Rocket Number One Oh Six Eight Five, +full-powered by the disintegrating nuclei of unstable isotopes, took off +with a whooshing roar which even her thick walls could not mute. + +The Technos, crushed down into their form-fitting cushions by three G's +of acceleration, clenched their teeth and took it. + +Higher! Faster! The rocket shivered and trembled as it hit the wall at +the velocity of sound, but it did not pause. + +Higher! Faster! Higher! Fifty miles high. One hundred ... five hundred +... a thousand ... fifteen hundred ... two thousand! Half a radius--the +designated altitude at which the Chicago Contingent would go into +action. + +Acceleration was cut to zero. The Technos, breathing deeply in relief, +donned peculiarly-goggled helmets and set up their panels. + +Kinnison stared into his plate with everything he could put into his +optic nerve. This was not like the Ball, in which the lights were +electronically placed, automatically controlled, clear, sharp, and +steady. This was radar. A radar considerably different from that of +1948, of course, and greatly improved, but still pitifully inadequate in +dealing with objects separated by hundreds of miles and traveling at +velocities of thousands of miles per hour! + +Nor was this like the practice cruises, in which the targets had been +harmless barrels or equally harmless dirigible rockets. This was the +real thing; the targets today would be lethal objects indeed. Practice +gunnery, with only a place in the Proficiency List at stake, had been +exciting enough: this was too exciting--_much_ too exciting--for the +keenness of brain and the quickness and steadiness of eye and of hand so +soon to be required. + +A target? Or was it? Yes--three or four of them! + +"Target One--Zone Ten," a quiet voice spoke into Kinnison's ear and one +of the white specks upon his plate turned yellowish green. The same +words, the same lights, were heard and seen by the eleven other Technos +of Sector A, of which Kinnison, by virtue of standing at the top of his +Combat Rocket's Proficiency List, was Sector Chief. He knew that the +voice was that of Sector A's Fire Control Officer, whose duty it was to +determine, from courses, velocities, and all other data to be had from +ground and lofty observers, the order in which his Sector's targets +should be eliminated. And Sector A, an imaginary but sharply-defined +cone, was in normal maneuvering the hottest part of the sky. Fire +Control's "Zone Ten" had informed him that the object was at extreme +range and hence there would be plenty of time. Nevertheless: + +"Lawrence--two! Doyle--one! Drummond--stand by with three!" he snapped, +at the first word. + +In the instant of hearing his name each Techno stabbed down a series of +studs and there flowed into his ears a rapid stream of figures--the +up-to-the-second data from every point of observation as to every +element of motion of his target. He punched the figures into his +calculator, which would correct automatically for the motion of his own +vessel--glanced once at the printed solution of the problem--tramped +down upon a pedal once, twice, or three times, depending upon the +number of projectiles he had been directed to handle. + +Kinnison had ordered Lawrence, a better shot than Doyle, to launch two +torpedoes; neither of which, at such long range, was expected to strike +its mark. His second, however, should come close; so close that the +instantaneous data sent back to both screens--and to Kinnison's--by the +torpedo itself would make the target a sitting duck for Doyle, the less +proficient follower. + +Drummond, Kinnison's Number Three, would not launch his missiles unless +Doyle missed. Nor could both Drummond and Harper, Kinnison's Number Two, +be "out" at once. One of the two had to be "in" at all times, to take +Kinnison's place in charge of the Sector if the Chief were ordered out. +For while Kinnison could order either Harper or Drummond on target, he +could not send himself. He could go out only when ordered to do so by +Fire Control: Sector Chiefs were reserved for emergency use only. + +"Target Two--Zone Nine," Fire Control said. + +"Carney, two. French, one. Day, stand by with three!" Kinnison ordered. + +"Damn it--missed!" This from Doyle. "Buck fever--no end." + +"O.K., boy--that's why we're starting so soon. I'm shaking like a +vibrator myself. We'll get over it...." + +The point of light which represented Target One bulged slightly and went +out. Drummond had connected and was back "in". + +"Target Three--Zone Eight. Four--eight," Fire Control remarked. + +"Target Three--Higgins and Green; Harper stand by. Four--Case and +Santos: Lawrence." + +After a minute or two of actual combat the Technos of Sector A began to +steady down. Stand-by men were no longer required and were no longer +assigned. + +"Target Forty-one--six," said Fire Control; and: + +"Lawrence, two. Doyle, two," ordered Kinnison. This was routine enough, +but in a moment: + +"Ted!" Lawrence snapped. "Missed--wide--both barrels. Forty-one's +dodging--manned or directed--coming like hell--watch it, Doyle--WATCH +IT!" + +"Kinnison, take it!" Fire Control barked, voice now neither low nor +steady, and without waiting to see whether Doyle would hit or miss. +"It's in Zone Three already--collision course!" + +"Harper! Take over!" + +Kinnison got the data, solved the equations, launched five torpedoes at +fifty gravities of acceleration. One ... two--three-four-five; the last +three as close together as they could fly without setting off their +proximity fuzes. + +Communications and mathematics and the electronic brains of calculating +machines had done all that they could do; the rest was up to human +skill, to the perfection of co-ordination and the speed of reaction of +human mind, nerve, and muscle. + +Kinnison's glance darted from plate to panel to computer-tape to meter +to galvanometer and back to plate; his left hand moved in tiny arcs the +knobs whose rotation varied the intensities of two mutually +perpendicular components of his torpedoes' drives. He listened +attentively to the reports of triangulating observers, now giving him +data covering his own missiles, as well as the target object. The +fingers of his right hand punched almost constantly the keys of his +computer; he corrected almost constantly his torpedoes' course. + +"Up a hair," he decided. "Left about a point." + +The target moved away from its predicted path. + +Down two--left three--down a hair--_Right_! The thing was almost through +Zone Two; was blasting into Zone One. + +He thought for a second that his first torp was going to connect. It +almost did--only a last-instant, full-powered side thrust enabled the +target to evade it. Two numbers flashed white upon his plate; his actual +error, exact to the foot of distance and to the degree on the clock, +measured and transmitted back to his board by instruments in his +torpedo. + +Working with instantaneous and exact data, and because the enemy had so +little time in which to act, Kinnison's second projectile made a very +near miss indeed. His third was a graze; so close that its proximity +fuze functioned, detonating the cyclonite-packed war-head. Kinnison knew +that his third went off, because the error-figures vanished, almost in +the instant of their coming into being, as its detecting and +transmitting instruments were destroyed. That one detonation might have +been enough; but Kinnison had had one glimpse of his error--how small it +was!--and had a fraction of a second of time. Hence Four and Five +slammed home; dead center. Whatever that target had been, it was no +longer a threat. + +"Kinnison, in," he reported briefly to Fire Control, and took over from +Harper the direction of the activities of Sector A. + +The battle went on. Kinnison sent Harper and Drummond out time after +time. He himself was given three more targets. The first wave of the +enemy--what was left of it--passed. Sector A went into action, again at +extreme range, upon the second. Its remains, too, plunged downward and +onward toward the distant ground. + +The third wave was really tough. Not that it was actually any worse than +the first two had been, but the CR10685 was no longer getting the data +which her Technos ought to have to do a good job; and every man aboard +her knew why. Some enemy stuff had got through, of course; and the +observatories, both on the ground and above it--the eye of the whole +American Defense--had suffered heavily. + +Nevertheless, Kinnison and his fellows were not too perturbed. Such a +condition was not entirely unexpected. They were now veterans; they had +been tried and had not been found wanting. They had come unscathed +through a bath of fire the like of which the world had never before +known. Give them any kind of computation at all--or no computation at +all except old CR10685's own radar and their own torps, of which they +still had plenty--and they could and would take care of anything that +could be thrown at them. + +The third wave passed. Targets became fewer and fewer. Action slowed +down ... stopped. + +The Technos, even the Sector Chiefs, knew nothing whatever of the +progress of the battle as a whole. They did not know where their rocket +was, or whether it was going north, east, south, or west. They knew when +it was going up or down only by the "seats of their pants." They did not +even know the nature of the targets they destroyed, since upon their +plates all targets looked alike--small, bright, greenish-yellow spots. +Hence: + +"Give us the dope, Pete, if we've got a minute to spare," Kinnison +begged of his Fire Control Officer. "You know more than we do--give!" + +"It's coming in now," came the prompt reply. "Six of those targets that +did such fancy dodging were atomics, aimed at the Lines. Five were +dirigibles, with our number on 'em. You fellows did a swell job. Very +little of their stuff got through--not enough, they say, to do much +damage to a country as big as the U.S.A. On the other hand, they stopped +scarcely any of ours--they apparently didn't have anything to compare +with you Technos. + +"But all hell seems to be busting loose, all over the world. Our east +and west coasts are both being attacked, they say; but are holding. +Operation Daisy and Operation Fairfield are clicking, just like we did. +Europe, they say, is going to hell--everybody is taking pot-shots at +everybody else. One report says that the South American nations are +bombing each other ... Asia, too ... nothing definite; as straight dope +comes in I'll relay it to you. + +"We came through in very good shape, considering ... losses less than +anticipated, only seven percent. The First Line--as you know +already--took a God-awful shellacking; in fact, the Churchill-Belcher +section was practically wiped out, which was what lost us about all of +our Observation.... We are now just about over the southern end of +Hudson Bay, heading down and south to join in making a vertical Fleet +Formation ... no more waves coming, but they say to expect attacks from +low-flying combat rockets--there goes the alert! On your toes, +fellows--but there isn't a thing on Sector A's screen...." + +There wasn't. Since the CR10685 was diving downward and southward, there +wouldn't be. Nevertheless, some observer aboard that rocket saw that +atomic missile coming. Some Fire Control Officer yelled orders; some +Technos did their best--and failed. + +And such is the violence of nuclear fission; so utterly incomprehensible +is its speed, that Theodore K. Kinnison died without realizing that +anything whatever was happening to his ship or to him. + + * * * * * + +_Gharlane of Eddore looked upon ruined Earth, his handiwork, and found +it good. Knowing that it would be many of hundreds of Tellurian years +before that planet would again require his personal attention, he went +elsewhere; to Rigel Four, to Palain Seven, and to the solar system of +Velantia, where he found that his creatures the Overlords were not +progressing according to schedule. He spent quite a little time there, +then searched minutely and fruitlessly for evidence of inimical activity +within the Innermost Circle._ + +_And upon far Arisia a momentous decision was made: the time had come to +curb sharply the hitherto unhampered Eddorians._ + +"_We are ready, then, to war openly upon them?" Eukonidor asked, +somewhat doubtfully. "Again to cleanse the planet Tellus of dangerous +radioactives and of too-noxious forms of life is of course a simple +matter. From our protected areas in North America a strong but +democratic government can spread to cover the world. That government can +be extended easily enough to include Mars and Venus. But Gharlane, who +is to operate as Roger, who has already planted, in the Adepts of North +Polar Jupiter, the seeds of the Jovian Wars...._" + +"_Your visualization is sound, youth. Think on._" + +"_Those interplanetary wars are of course inevitable, and will serve to +strengthen and to unify the government of the Inner Planets ... provided +that Gharlane does not interfere.... Oh, I see. Gharlane will not at +first know; since a zone of compulsion will be held upon him. When he or +some Eddorian fusion perceives that compulsion and breaks it--at some +such time of high stress as the Nevian incident--it will be too late. +Our fusions will be operating. Roger will be allowed to perform only +such acts as will be for Civilization's eventual good. Nevia was +selected as Prime Operator because of its location in a small region of +the galaxy which is almost devoid of solid iron and because of its +watery nature; its aquatic forms of life being precisely those in which +the Eddorians are least interested. They will be given partial +neutralization of inertia; they will be able to attain velocities a few +times greater than that of light. That covers the situation, I think?_" + +"_Very good, Eukonidor," the Elders approved. "A concise and accurate +summation._" + +_Hundreds of Tellurian years passed. The aftermath. Reconstruction. +Advancement. One world--two worlds--three worlds--united, harmonious, +friendly. The Jovian Wars. A solid, unshakeable union._ + +_Nor did any Eddorian know that such fantastically rapid progress was +being made. Indeed, Gharlane knew, as he drove his immense ship of space +toward Sol, that he would find Tellus inhabited by peoples little above +savagery._ + +_And it should be noted in passing that not once, throughout all those +centuries, did a man named Kinnison marry a girl with red-bronze-auburn +hair and gold-flecked, tawny eyes._ + + + + +BOOK THREE + +TRIPLANETARY + + + + +CHAPTER 7 + +PIRATES OF SPACE + + +Apparently motionless to her passengers and crew, the Interplanetary +liner _Hyperion_ bored serenely onward through space at normal +acceleration. In the railed-off sanctum in one corner of the control +room a bell tinkled, a smothered whirr was heard, and Captain Bradley +frowned as he studied the brief message upon the tape of the recorder--a +message flashed to his desk from the operator's panel. He beckoned, and +the second officer, whose watch it now was, read aloud: + +"Reports of scout patrols still negative." + +"Still negative." The officer scowled in thought. "They've already +searched beyond the widest possible location of wreckage, too. Two +unexplained disappearances inside a month--first the _Dione_, then the +_Rhea_--and not a plate nor a lifeboat recovered. Looks bad, sir. One +might be an accident; two might possibly be a coincidence...." His voice +died away. + +"But at three it would get to be a habit," the captain finished the +thought. "And whatever happened, happened quick. Neither of them had +time to say a word--their location recorders simply went dead. But of +course they didn't have our detector screens nor our armament. According +to the observatories we're in clear ether, but I wouldn't trust them +from Tellus to Luna. You have given the new orders, of course?" + +"Yes, sir. Detectors full out, all three courses of defensive screen on +the trips, projectors manned, suits on the hooks. Every object detected +to be investigated immediately--if vessels, they are to be warned to +stay beyond extreme range. Anything entering the fourth zone is to be +rayed." + +"Right--we are going through!" + +"But no known type of vessel could have made away with them without +detection," the second officer argued. "I wonder if there isn't +something in those wild rumors we've been hearing lately?" + +"Bah! Of course not!" snorted the captain. "Pirates in ships faster than +light--sub-ethereal rays--nullification of gravity mass without +inertia--ridiculous! Proved impossible, over and over again. No, sir, if +pirates are operating in space--and it looks very much like it--they +won't get far against a good big battery full of kilowatt-hours behind +three courses of heavy screen, and good gunners behind multiplex +projectors. They're good enough for anybody. Pirates, Neptunians, +angels, or devils--in ships or on broomsticks--if they tackle the +_Hyperion_ we'll burn them out of the ether!" + +Leaving the captain's desk, the watch officer resumed his tour of duty. +The six great lookout plates into which the alert observers peered were +blank, their far-flung ultra-sensitive detector screens encountering no +obstacle--the ether was empty for thousands upon thousands of +kilometers. The signal lamps upon the pilot's panel were dark, its +warning bells were silent. A brilliant point of white light in the +center of the pilot's closely ruled micrometer grating, exactly upon the +cross-hairs of his directors, showed that the immense vessel was +precisely upon the calculated course, as laid down by the automatic +integrating course plotters. Everything was quiet and in order. + +"All's well, sir," he reported briefly to Captain Bradley--but all was +not well. + +Danger--more serious by far in that it was not external--was even then, +all unsuspected, gnawing at the great ship's vitals. In a locked and +shielded compartment, deep down in the interior of the liner, was the +great air purifier. Now a man leaned against the primary duct--the aorta +through which flowed the stream of pure air supplying the entire vessel. +This man, grotesque in full panoply of space armor, leaned against the +duct, and as he leaned a drill bit deeper and deeper into the steel wall +of the pipe. Soon it broke through, and the slight rush of air was stopped +by the insertion of a tightly fitting rubber tube. The tube terminated in +a heavy rubber balloon, which surrounded a frail glass bulb. The man stood +tense, one hand holding before his silica-and-steel-helmeted head a large +pocket chronometer, the other lightly grasping the balloon. A sneering +grin was upon his face as he waited the exact second of action--the +carefully predetermined instant when his right hand, closing, would +shatter the fragile flask and force its contents into the primary air +stream of the _Hyperion_! + + * * * * * + +Far above, in the main saloon, the regular evening dance was in full +swing. The ship's orchestra crashed into silence, there was a patter of +applause, and Clio Marsden, radiant belle of the voyage, led her partner +out onto the promenade and up to one of the observation plates. + +"Oh, we can't see the Earth any more!" she exclaimed. "Which way do you +turn this, Mr. Costigan?" + +"Like this," and Conway Costigan, burly young First Officer of the +liner, turned the dials. "There--this plate is looking back, or down, at +Tellus; this other one is looking ahead." + +Earth was a brilliantly shining crescent far beneath the flying vessel. +Above her, ruddy Mars and silvery Jupiter blazed in splendor ineffable +against a background of utterly indescribable blackness--a background +thickly besprinkled with dimensionless points of dazzling brilliance +which were the stars. + +"Oh, isn't it wonderful!" breathed the girl, awed. "Of course, I suppose +that it's old stuff to you, but I'm a ground-gripper, you know, and I +could look at it forever, I think. That's why I want to come out here +after every dance. You know, I...." + +Her voice broke off suddenly, with a queer, rasping catch, as she seized +his arm in a frantic clutch and as quickly went limp. He stared at her +sharply, and understood instantly the message written in her eyes--eyes +now enlarged, staring, hard, brilliant, and full of soul-searing terror +as she slumped down, helpless but for his support. In the act of +exhaling as he was, lungs almost entirely empty, yet he held his breath +until he had seized the microphone from his belt and had snapped the +lever to "emergency." + +"Control room!" he gasped then, and every speaker throughout the great +cruiser of the void blared out the warning as he forced his already +evacuated lungs to absolute emptiness. "Vee-Two Gas! Get tight!" + +Writhing and twisting in his fierce struggle to keep his lungs from +gulping in a draft of that noxious atmosphere, and with the unconscious +form of the girl draped limply over his left arm, Costigan leaped toward +the portal of the nearest lifeboat. Orchestra instruments crashed to the +floor and dancing couples fell and sprawled inertly while the tortured +First Officer swung the door of the lifeboat open and dashed across the +tiny room to the air-valves. Throwing them wide open, he put his mouth +to the orifice and let his laboring lungs gasp their eager fill of the +cold blast roaring from the tanks. Then, air-hunger partially assuaged, +he again held his breath, broke open the emergency locker, donned one of +the space-suits always kept there, and opened its valves wide in order +to flush out of his uniform any lingering trace of the lethal gas. + +He then leaped back to his companion. Shutting off the air, he released +a stream of pure oxygen, held her face in it, and made shift to force +some of it into her lungs by compressing and releasing her chest against +his own body. Soon she drew a spasmodic breath, choking and coughing, +and he again changed the gaseous stream to one of pure air, speaking +urgently as she showed signs of returning consciousness. + +"Stand up!" he snapped. "Hang onto this brace and keep your face in this +air-stream until I get a suit around you! Got me?" + +She nodded weakly, and, assured that she could hold herself at the +valve, it was the work of only a minute to encase her in one of the +protective coverings. Then, as she sat upon a bench, recovering her +strength, he flipped on the lifeboat's visiphone projector and shot its +invisible beam up into the control room, where he saw space-armored +figures furiously busy at the panels. + +"Dirty work at the cross-roads!" he blazed to his captain, man to +man--formality disregarded, as it so often was in the Triplanetary +service. "There's skulduggery afoot somewhere in our primary air! Maybe +that's the way they got those other two ships--pirates! Might have been +a timed bomb--don't see how anybody could have stowed away down there +through the inspections, and nobody but Franklin can neutralize the +shield of the air room--but I'm going to look around, anyway. Then I'll +join you fellows up there." + +"What was it?" the shaken girl asked. "I think that I remember your +saying 'Vee-Two gas.' That's forbidden! Anyway, I owe you my life, +Conway, and I'll never forget it--never. Thanks--but the others--how +about all the rest of us?" + +"It was Vee-Two, and it is forbidden," Costigan replied grimly, eyes +fast upon the flashing plate, whose point of projection was now deep in +the bowels of the vessel. "The penalty for using it or having it is +death on sight. Gangsters and pirates use it, since they have nothing to +lose, being on the death list already. As for your life, I haven't saved +it yet--you may wish I'd let it ride before we get done. The others are +too far gone for oxygen--couldn't have brought even you around in a few +more seconds, quick as I got to you. But there's a sure antidote--we all +carry it in a lock-box in our armor--and we all know how to use it, +because crooks all use Vee-Two and so we're always expecting it. But +since the air will be pure again in half an hour we'll be able to revive +the others easily enough if we can get by with whatever is going to +happen next. There's the bird that did it, right in the air-room. It's +the Chief Engineer's suit, but that isn't Franklin that's in it. Some +passenger--disguised--slugged the Chief--took his suit and +projectors--hole in duct--p-s-s-t! All washed out! Maybe that's all he +was scheduled to do to us in this performance, but he'll do nothing else +in his life!" + +"Don't go down there!" protested the girl. "His armor is so much better +than that emergency suit you are wearing, and he's got Mr. Franklin's +Lewiston, besides!" + +"Don't be an idiot!" he snapped. "We can't have a live pirate +aboard--we're going to be altogether too busy with outsiders directly. +Don't worry, I'm not going to give him a break. I'll take a +Standish--I'll rub him out like a blot. Stay right here until I come +back after you," he commanded, and the heavy door of the lifeboat +clanged shut behind him as he leaped out into the promenade. + +Straight across the saloon he made his way, paying no attention to the +inert forms scattered here and there. Going up to a blank wall, he +manipulated an almost invisible dial set flush with its surface, swung a +heavy door aside, and lifted out the Standish--a fearsome weapon. Squat, +huge, and heavy, it resembled somewhat an overgrown machine rifle, but +one possessing a thick, short telescope, with several opaque condensing +lenses and parabolic reflectors. Laboring under the weight of the thing, +he strode along corridors and clambered heavily down short stairways. +Finally he came to the purifier room, and grinned savagely as he saw the +greenish haze of light obscuring the door and walls--the shield was +still in place; the pirate was still inside, still flooding with the +terrible Vee Two the _Hyperion's_ primary air. + +He set his peculiar weapon down, unfolded its three massive legs, +crouched down behind it, and threw in a switch. Dull red beams of +frightful intensity shot from the reflectors and sparks, almost of +lightning proportions, leaped from the shielding screen under their +impact. Roaring and snapping, the conflict went on for seconds, then, +under the superior force of the Standish, the greenish radiance gave +way. Behind it the metal of the door ran the gamut of color--red, +yellow, blinding white--then literally exploded; molten, vaporized, +burned away. Through the aperture thus made Costigan could plainly see +the pirate in the space-armor of the chief engineer--an armor which was +proof against rifle fire and which could reflect and neutralize for some +little time even the terrific beam Costigan was employing. Nor was the +pirate unarmed--a vicious flare of incandescence leaped from his +Lewiston, to spend its force in spitting, crackling pyrotechnics against +the ether-wall of the squat and monstrous Standish. But Costigan's +infernal engine did not rely only upon vibratory destruction. At almost +the first flash of the pirate's weapon the officer touched a trigger, +there was a double report, ear-shattering in that narrowly confined +space, and the pirate's body literally flew into mist as a half-kilogram +shell tore through his armor and exploded. Costigan shut off his beam, +and with not the slightest softening of one hard lineament stared around +the air-room; making sure that no serious damage had been done to the +vital machinery of the air-purifier--the very lungs of the great +space-ship. + +Dismounting the Standish, he lugged it back up to the main saloon, +replaced it in its safe, and again set the combination lock. Thence to +the lifeboat, where Clio cried out in relief as she saw that he was +unhurt. + +"Oh, Conway, I've been so afraid something would happen to you!" she +exclaimed, as he led her rapidly upward toward the control room. "Of +course you ..." she paused. + +"Sure," he replied, laconically. "Nothing to it. How do you feel--about +back to normal?" + +"All right, I think, except for being scared to death and just about out +of control. I don't suppose that I'll be good for anything, but whatever +I can do, count me in on." + +"Fine--you may be needed, at that. Everybody's out, apparently, except +those like me, who had a warning and could hold their breath until they +got to their suits." + +"But how did you know what it was? You can't see it, nor smell it, nor +anything." + +"You inhaled a second before I did, and I saw your eyes. I've been in it +before--and when you see a man get a jolt of that stuff just once, you +never forget it. The engineers down below got it first, of course--it +must have wiped them out. Then we got it in the saloon. Your passing out +warned me, and luckily I had enough breath left to give the word. Quite +a few of the fellows up above should have had time to get away--we'll +see 'em all in the control room." + +"I suppose that was why you revived me--in payment for so kindly +warning you of the gas attack?" The girl laughed; shaky, but game. + +"Something like that, probably," he answered, lightly. "Here we are--now +we'll soon find out what's going to happen next." + +In the control room they saw at least a dozen armored figures; not now +rushing about, but seated at their instruments, tense and ready. +Fortunate it was that Costigan--veteran of space as he was, though young +in years--had been down in the saloon; fortunate that he had been +familiar with that horrible outlawed gas; fortunate that he had had +presence of mind enough and sheer physical stamina enough to send his +warning without allowing one paralyzing trace to enter his own lungs. +Captain Bradley, the men on watch, and several other officers in their +quarters or in the wardrooms--space-hardened veterans all--had obeyed +instantly and without question the amplifiers' gasped command to "get +tight". Exhaling or inhaling, their air-passages had snapped shut as +that dread "Vee-Two" was heard, and they had literally jumped into their +armored suits of space--flushing them out with volume after volume of +unquestionable air; holding their breath to the last possible second, +until their straining lungs could endure no more. + +Costigan waved the girl to a vacant bench, cautiously changing into his +own armor from the emergency suit he had been wearing, and approached +the captain. + +"Anything in sight, sir?" he asked, saluting. "They should have started +something before this." + +"They've started, but we can't locate them. We tried to send out a +general sector alarm, but had hardly started when they blanketed our +wave. Look at that!" + +Following the captain's eyes, Costigan stared at the high powered set of +the ship's operator. Upon the plate, instead of a moving, living, +three-dimensional picture, there was a flashing glare of blinding white +light; from the speaker, instead of intelligible speech, was issuing a +roaring, crackling stream of noise. + +"It's impossible!" Bradley burst out, violently. "There's not a gram of +metal inside the fourth zone--within a hundred thousand kilometers--and +yet they must be close to send such a wave as that. But the Second +thinks not--what do you think, Costigan?" The bluff commander, +reactionary and of the old school as was his breed, was +furious--baffled, raging inwardly to come to grips with the invisible +and indetectable foe. Face to face with the inexplicable, however, he +listened to the younger men with unusual tolerance. + +"It's not only possible; it's quite evident that they've got something +we haven't." Costigan's voice was bitter. "But why shouldn't they have? +Service ships never get anything until it's been experimented with for +years, but pirates and such always get the new stuff as soon as it's +discovered. The only good thing I can see is that we got part of a +message away, and the scouts can trace that interference out there. But +the pirates know that, too--it won't be long now," he concluded, grimly. + +He spoke truly. Before another word was said the outer screen flared +white under a beam of terrific power, and simultaneously there appeared +upon one of the lookout plates a vivid picture of the pirate vessel--a +huge, black torpedo of steel, now emitting flaring offensive beams of +force. + +Instantly the powerful weapons of the _Hyperion_ were brought to bear, +and in the blast of full-driven beams the stranger's screens flamed +incandescent. Heavy guns, under the recoil of whose fierce salvos the +frame of the giant globe trembled and shuddered, shot out their tons of +high-explosive shell. But the pirate commander had known accurately the +strength of the liner, and knew that her armament was impotent against +the forces at his command. His screens were invulnerable, the giant +shells were exploded harmlessly in mid-space, miles from their +objective. And suddenly a frightful pencil of flame stabbed brilliantly +from the black hulk of the enemy. Through the empty ether it tore, +through the mighty defensive screens, through the tough metal of the +outer and inner walls. Every ether-defense of the _Hyperion_ vanished, +and her acceleration dropped to a quarter of its normal value. + +"Right through the battery room!" Bradley groaned. "We're on the +emergency drive now. Our rays are done for, and we can't seem to put a +shell anywhere near her with our guns!" + +But ineffective as the guns were, they were silenced forever as a +frightful beam of destruction stabbed relentlessly through the control +room, whiffing out of existence the pilot, gunnery, and lookout panels +and the men before them. The air rushed into space, and the suits of the +three survivors bulged out into drum-head tightness as the pressure in +the room decreased. + +Costigan pushed the captain lightly toward a wall, then seized the girl +and leaped in the same direction. + +"Let's get out of here, quick!" he cried, the miniature radio +instruments of the helmets automatically taking up the duty of +transmitting speech as the sound disks refused to function. "They can't +see us--our ether wall is still up and their spy-rays can't get through +it from the outside, you know. They're working from blue-prints, and +they'll probably take your desk next," and even as they bounded toward +the door, now become the outer seal of an airlock, the pirates' beam +tore through the space which they had just quitted. + +Through the airlock, down through several levels of passengers' quarters +they hurried, and into a lifeboat, whose one doorway commanded the full +length of the third lounge--an ideal spot, either for defense or for +escape outward by means of the miniature cruiser. As they entered their +retreat they felt their weight begin to increase. More and more force +was applied to the helpless liner, until it was moving at normal +acceleration. + +"What do you make of that, Costigan?" asked the captain. "Tractor +beams?" + +"Apparently. They've got something, all right. They're taking us +somewhere, fast. I'll go get a couple of Standishes, and another suit of +armor--we'd better dig in," and soon the small room became a veritable +fortress, housing as it did those two formidable engines of destruction. +Then the first officer made another and longer trip, returning with a +complete suit of Triplanetary space armor, exactly like those worn by +the two men, but considerably smaller. + +"Just as an added factor of safety, you'd better put this on, +Clio--those emergency suits aren't good for much in a battle. I don't +suppose that you ever fired a Standish, did you?" + +"No, but I can soon learn how to do it," she replied pluckily. + +"Two is all that can work here at once, but you should know how to take +hold in case one of us goes out. And while you're changing suits you'd +better put on some stuff I've got here--Service Special phones and +detectors. Stick this little disk onto your chest with this bit of tape; +low down, out of sight. Just under your wishbone is the best place. Take +off your wrist-watch and wear this one _continuously_--never take it off +for a second. Put on these pearls, and wear them all the time, too. Take +this capsule and hide it against your skin, some place where it can't be +found except by the most rigid search. Swallow it in an emergency--it +goes down easily and works just as well inside as outside. It is the +most important thing of all--you can get along with it alone if you lose +everything else, but without that capsule the whole system's shot to +pieces. With that outfit, if we should get separated, you can talk to +us--we're both wearing 'em, although in somewhat different forms. You +don't need to talk loud--just a mutter will be enough. They're handy +little outfits--almost impossible to find, and capable of a lot of +things." + +"Thanks, Conway--I'll remember that, too," Clio replied, as she turned +toward the tiny locker to follow his instructions. "But won't the scouts +and patrols be catching us pretty quick? The operator sent a warning." + +"Afraid the ether's empty, as far as we're concerned." + +Captain Bradley had stood by in silent astonishment during this +conversation. His eyes had bulged slightly at Costigan's "we're both +wearing 'em," but he had held his peace and as the girl disappeared a +look of dawning comprehension came over his face. + +"Oh, I see, sir," he said, respectfully--far more respectfully than he +had ever before addressed a mere first officer. "Meaning that we both +_will be_ wearing them shortly, I assume. 'Service Specials'--but you +didn't specify exactly _what_ Service, did you?" + +"Now that you mention it, I don't believe that I did," Costigan grinned. + +"That explains several things about you--particularly your recognition +of Vee-Two and your uncanny control and speed of reaction. But aren't +you...." + +"No," Costigan interrupted. "This situation is apt to get altogether too +serious to overlook any bets. If we get away, I'll take them away from +her and she'll never know that they aren't routine equipment. As for +you, I know that you can and do keep your mouth shut. That's why I'm +hanging this junk on you--I had a lot of stuff in my kit, but I flashed +it all with the Standish except what I brought in here for us three. +Whether you think so or not, we're in a real jam--our chance of getting +away is mighty close to zero...." + +He broke off as the girl came back, now to all appearances a small +Triplanetary officer, and the three settled down to a long and eventless +wait. Hour after hour they flew through the ether, but finally there was +a lurching swing and an abrupt increase in their acceleration. After a +short consultation Captain Bradley turned on the visiray set and, with +the beam at its minimum power, peered cautiously downward, in the +direction opposite to that in which he knew the pirate vessel must be. +All three stared into the plate, seeing only an infinity of emptiness, +marked only by the infinitely remote and coldly brilliant stars. While +they stared into space a vast area of the heavens was blotted out and +they saw, faintly illuminated by a peculiar blue luminescence, a vast +ball--a sphere so large and so close that they seemed to be dropping +downward toward it as though it were a world! They came to a +stop--paused, weightless--a vast door slid smoothly aside--they were +drawn _upward_ through an airlock and floated quietly in the air above a +small, but brightly-lighted and orderly city of metallic buildings! +Gently the _Hyperion_ was lowered, to come to rest in the embracing arms +of a regulation landing cradle. + +"Well, wherever it is, we're here," remarked Captain Bradley, grimly, +and: + +"And now the fireworks start," assented Costigan, with a questioning +glance at the girl. + +"Don't mind me," she answered his unspoken question. "I don't believe in +surrendering, either." + +"Right," and both men squatted down behind the ether-walls of their +terrific weapons; the girl prone behind them. + +They had not long to wait. A group of human beings--men and to all +appearances Americans--appeared unarmed in the little lounge. As soon as +they were well inside the room, Bradley and Costigan released upon them +without compunction the full power of their frightful projectors. From +the reflectors, through the doorway, there tore a concentrated double +beam of pure destruction--but that beam did not reach its goal. Yards +from the men it met a screen of impenetrable density. Instantly the +gunners pressed their triggers and a stream of high-explosive shells +issued from the roaring weapons. But shells, also, were futile. They +struck the shield and vanished--vanished without exploding and without +leaving a trace to show that they had ever existed. + +Costigan sprang to his feet, but before he could launch his intended +attack a vast tunnel appeared beside him--something had gone through the +entire width of the liner, cutting effortlessly a smooth cylinder of +emptiness. Air rushed in to fill the vacuum, and the three visitors felt +themselves seized by invisible forces and drawn into the tunnel. Through +it they floated, up to and over buildings, finally slanting downward +toward the door of a great high-towered structure. Doors opened before +them and closed behind them, until at last they stood upright in a room +which was evidently the office of a busy executive. They faced a desk +which, in addition to the usual equipment of the business man, carried +also a bewilderingly complete switchboard and instrument panel. + +Seated impassively at the desk there was a gray man. Not only was he +dressed entirely in gray, but his heavy hair was gray, his eyes were +gray, and even his tanned skin seemed to give the impression of grayness +in disguise. His overwhelming personality radiated an aura of +grayness--not the gentle gray of the dove, but the resistless, driving +gray of the super-dreadnought; the hard, inflexible, brittle gray of the +fracture of high-carbon steel. + +"Captain Bradley, First Officer Costigan, Miss Marsden," the man spoke +quietly, but crisply. "I had not intended you two men to live so long. +That is a detail, however, which we will pass by for the moment. You may +remove your suits." + +Neither officer moved, but both stared back at the speaker, +unflinchingly. + +"I am not accustomed to repeating instructions," the man at the desk +continued; voice still low and level, but instinct with deadly menace. +"You may choose between removing those suits and dying in them, here and +now." + +Costigan moved over to Clio and slowly took off her armor. Then, after a +flashing exchange of glances and a muttered word, the two officers threw +off their suits simultaneously and fired at the same instant; Bradley +with his Lewiston, Costigan with a heavy automatic pistol whose bullets +were explosive shells of tremendous power. But the man in gray, +surrounded by an impenetrable wall of force, only smiled at the +fusillade, tolerantly and maddeningly. Costigan leaped fiercely, only to +be hurled backward as he struck that unyielding, invisible wall. A +vicious beam snapped him back into place, the weapons were snatched +away, and all three captives were held to their former positions. + +"I permitted that, as a demonstration of futility," the gray man said, +his hard voice becoming harder, "but I will permit no more foolishness. +Now I will introduce myself. I am known as Roger. You probably have +heard nothing of me: very few Tellurians have, or ever will. Whether or +not you two live depends solely upon yourselves. Being something of a +student of men, I fear that you will both die shortly. Able and +resourceful as you have just shown yourselves to be, you could be +valuable to me, but you probably will not--in which case you shall, of +course, cease to exist. That, however, in its proper time--you shall be +of some slight service to me in the process of being eliminated. In your +case, Miss Marsden, I find myself undecided between two courses of +action; each highly desirable, but unfortunately mutually exclusive. +Your father will be glad to ransom you at an exceedingly high figure, +but in spite of that fact I may decide to use you in a research upon +sex." + +"Yes?" Clio rose magnificently to the occasion. Fear forgotten, her +courageous spirit flashed from her clear young eyes and emanated from +her taut young body, erect in defiance. "You may think that you can do +anything with me that you please, but you can't!" + +"Peculiar--highly perplexing--why should that one stimulus, in the case +of young females, produce such an entirely disproportionate reaction?" +Roger's eyes bored into Clio's; the girl shivered and looked away. "But +sex itself, primal and basic, the most widespread concomitant of life in +this continuum, is completely illogical and paradoxical. Most +baffling--decidedly, this research on sex must go on." + +Roger pressed a button and a tall, comely woman appeared--a woman of +indefinite age and of uncertain nationality. + +"Show Miss Marsden to her apartment," he directed, and as the two women +went out a man came in. + +"The cargo is unloaded, sir," the newcomer reported. "The two men and +the five women indicated have been taken to the hospital." + +"Very well, dispose of the others in the usual fashion." The minion went +out, and Roger continued, emotionlessly: + +"Collectively, the other passengers may be worth a million or so, but it +would not be worthwhile to waste time upon them." + +"What are you, anyway?" blazed Costigan, helpless but enraged beyond +caution. "I have heard of mad scientists who tried to destroy the Earth, +and of equally mad geniuses who thought themselves Napoleons capable of +conquering even the Solar System. Whichever you are, you should know +that you can't get away with it." + +"I am neither. I am, however, a scientist, and I direct many other +scientists. I am not mad. You have undoubtedly noticed several peculiar +features of this place?" + +"Yes, particularly the artificial gravity and those screens. An ordinary +ether-wall is opaque in one direction, and doesn't bar matter--yours are +transparent both ways and something more than impenetrable to matter. +How do you do it?" + +"You could not understand them if I explained them to you, and they are +merely two of our smaller developments. I do not intend to destroy your +planet Earth; I have no desire to rule over masses of futile and +brainless men. I have, however, certain ends of my own in view. To +accomplish my plans I require hundreds of millions in gold and other +hundreds of millions in uranium, thorium, and radium; all of which I +shall take from the planets of this Solar System before I leave it. I +shall take them in spite of the puerile efforts of the fleets of your +Triplanetary League. + +"This structure was designed by me and built under my direction. It is +protected from meteorites by forces of my devising. It is indetectable +and invisible--ether waves are bent around it without loss or +distortion. I am discussing these points at such length so that you may +realize exactly your position. As I have intimated, you can be of +assistance to me if you will." + +"Now just what could you offer any _man_ to make him join your outfit?" +demanded Costigan, venomously. + +"Many things," Roger's cold tone betrayed no emotion, no recognition of +Costigan's open and bitter contempt. "I have under me many men, bound to +me by many ties. Needs, wants, longings, and desires differ from man to +man, and I can satisfy practically any of them. Many men take delight in +the society of young and beautiful women, but there are other urges +which I have found quite efficient. Greed, thirst for fame, longing for +power, and so on, including many qualities usually regarded as 'noble.' +And what I promise, I deliver. I demand only loyalty to me, and that +only in certain things and for a relatively short period. In all else, +my men do as they please. In conclusion, I can use you two conveniently, +but I do not need you. Therefore you may choose now between my service +and--the alternative." + +"Exactly what is the alternative?" + +"We will not go into that. Suffice it to say that it has to do with a +minor research, which is not progressing satisfactorily. It will result +in your extinction, and perhaps I should mention that that extinction +will not be particularly pleasant." + +"I say NO, you...." Bradley roared. He intended to give an unexpurgated +classification, but was rudely interrupted. + +"Hold on a minute!" snapped Costigan. "How about Miss Marsden?" + +"She has nothing to do with this discussion," returned Roger, icily. "I +do not bargain--in fact, I believe that I shall keep her for a time. She +has it in mind to destroy herself if I do not allow her to be ransomed, +but she will find that door closed to her until I permit it to open." + +"In that case, I string along with the Chief--take what he started to +say about you and run it clear across the board for me!" barked +Costigan. + +"Very well. That decision was to be expected from men of your type." The +gray man touched two buttons and two of his creatures entered the room. +"Put these men into two separate cells on the second level," he ordered. +"Search them; all their weapons may not have been in their armor. Seal +the doors and mount special guards, tuned to me here." + +Imprisoned they were, and carefully searched; but they bore no arms, and +nothing had been said concerning communicators. Even if such instruments +could be concealed, Roger would detect their use instantly. At least, so +ran his thought. But Roger's men had no inkling of the possibility of +Costigan's "Service Special" phones, detectors, and spy-ray--instruments +of minute size and of infinitesimal power, but yet instruments which, +working as they were below the level of the ether, were effective at +great distances and caused no vibrations in the ether by which their use +could be detected. And what could be more innocent than the regulation +personal equipment of every officer of space? The heavy goggles, the +wrist-watch and its supplementary pocket chronometer, the flash-lamp, +the automatic lighter, the sender, the money-belt? + +All these items of equipment were examined with due care; but the +cleverest minds of the Triplanetary Service had designed those +communicators to pass any ordinary search, however careful, and when +Costigan and Bradley were finally locked into the designated cells they +still possessed their ultra-instruments. + + + + +CHAPTER 8 + +IN ROGER'S PLANETOID + + +In the hall Clio glanced around her wildly, seeking even the narrowest +avenue of escape. Before she could act, however, her body was clamped as +though in a vise, and she struggled, motionless. + +"It is useless to attempt to escape, or to do anything except what +Roger wishes," the guide informed her somberly, snapping off the +instrument in her hand and thus restoring to the thoroughly cowed girl +her freedom of motion. + +"His lightest wish is law," she continued as they walked down a long +corridor. "The sooner you realize that you must do exactly as he +pleases, in all things, the easier your life will be." + +"But I wouldn't _want_ to keep on living!" Clio declared, with a flash +of spirit. "And I can _always_ die, you know." + +"You will find that you cannot," the passionless creature returned, +monotonously. "If you do not yield, you will long and pray for death, +but you will not die unless Roger wills it. Look at me: I cannot die. +Here is your apartment. You will stay here until Roger gives further +orders concerning you." + +The living automaton opened a door and stood silent and impassive while +Clio, staring at her in horror, shrank past her and into the sumptuously +furnished suite. The door closed soundlessly and utter silence descended +as a pall. Not an ordinary silence, but the indescribable perfection of +the absolute silence, complete absence of all sound. In that silence +Clio stood motionless. Tense and rigid, hopeless, despairing, she stood +there in that magnificent room, fighting an almost overwhelming impulse +to scream. Suddenly she heard the cold voice of Roger, speaking from the +empty air. + +"You are over-wrought, Miss Marsden. You can be of no use to yourself or +to me in that condition. I command you to rest; and, to insure that +rest, you may pull that cord, which will establish about this room an +ether wall: a wall to cut off even this my voice...." + +The voice ceased as she pulled the cord savagely and threw herself upon +a divan in a torrent of gasping, strangling, but rebellious sobs. Then +again came a voice, but not to her ears. Deep within her, pervading +every bone and muscle, it made itself felt rather than heard. + +"Clio?" it asked. "Don't talk yet...." + +"Conway!" she gasped in relief, every fiber of her being thrilled into +new hope at the deep, well-remembered voice of Conway Costigan. + +"Keep still!" he snapped. "Don't act so happy! He may have a spy-ray on +you. He can't hear me, but he may be able to hear you. When he was +talking to you you must have noticed a sort of rough, sandpapery feeling +under that necklace I gave you? Since he's got an ether-wall around you +the beads are dead now. If you feel anything like that under the +wrist-watch, breathe deeply, twice. If you don't feel anything there, +it's safe for you to talk, as loud as you please." + +"I don't feel anything, Conway!" she rejoiced. Tears forgotten, she was +her old, buoyant self again. "So that wall _is_ real, after all? I only +about half believed it." + +"Don't trust it too much, because he can cut it off from the outside any +time he wants to. Remember what I told you: that necklace will warn you +of any spy-ray in the ether, and the watch will detect anything below +the level of the ether. It's dead now, of course, since our three phones +are direct-connected; I'm in touch with Bradley, too. Don't be too +scared; we've got a lot better chance than I thought we had." + +"What? You don't mean it!" + +"Absolutely. I'm beginning to think that maybe we've got something he +doesn't know exists--our ultra-wave. Of course I wasn't surprised when +his searchers failed to find our instruments, but it never occurred to +me that I might have a clear field to use them in! I can't quite believe +it yet, but I haven't been able to find any indication that he can even +detect the bands we are using. I'm going to look around over there with +my spy-ray ... I'm looking at you now--feel it?" + +"Yes, the watch feels that way, now." + +"Fine! Not a sign of interference over here, either. I can't find a +trace of ultra-wave--anything below ether-level, you know--anywhere in +the whole place. He's got so much stuff that we've never heard of that I +supposed of course he'd have ultra-wave, too; but if he hasn't, that +gives us the edge. Well, Bradley and I've got a lot of work to do.... +Wait a minute, I just had a thought. I'll be back in about a second." + +There was a brief pause, then the soundless, but clear voice went on: + +"Good hunting! That woman that gave you the blue willies isn't +alive--she's full of the prettiest machinery and circuits you ever saw!" + +"Oh, Conway!" and the girl's voice broke in an engulfing wave of +thanksgiving and relief. "It was so unutterably horrible, thinking of +what must have happened to her and to others like her!" + +"He's running a colossal bluff, I think. He's good, all right, but he +lacks quite a lot of being omnipotent. But don't get too cocky, either. +Plenty has happened to plenty of women here, and men too--and plenty may +happen to us unless we put out a few jets. Keep a stiff upper lip, and +if you want us, yell. 'Bye!" + +The silent voice ceased, the watch upon Clio's wrist again became an +unobtrusive timepiece, and Costigan, in his solitary cell far below her +tower room, turned his peculiarly goggled eyes toward other scenes. His +hands, apparently idle in his pockets, manipulated tiny controls; his +keen, highly-trained eyes studied every concealed detail of mechanism of +the great globe. Finally, he took off the goggles and spoke in a low +voice to Bradley, confined in another windowless room across the hall. + +"I think I've got dope enough, Captain. I've found out where he put our +armor and guns, and I've located all the main leads, controls, and +generators. There are no ether-walls around us here, but every door is +shielded, and there are guards outside our doors--one to each of us. +They're robots, not men. That makes it harder, since they're undoubtedly +connected direct to Roger's desk and will give an alarm at the first +hint of abnormal performance. We can't do a thing until he leaves his +desk. See that black panel, a little below the cord-switch to the right +of your door? That's the conduit cover. When I give you the word, tear +that off and you'll see one red wire in the cable. It feeds the +shield-generator of your door. Break that wire and join me out in the +hall. Sorry I had only one of these ultra-wave spies, but once we're +together it won't be so bad. Here's what I thought we could do," and he +went over in detail the only course of action which his survey had shown +to be possible. + +"There, he's left his desk!" Costigan exclaimed after the conversation +had continued for almost an hour. "Now as soon as we find out where he's +going, we'll start something ... he's going to see Clio, the swine! This +changes things, Bradley!" His hard voice was a curse. + +"Somewhat!" blazed the captain. "I know how you two have been getting on +all during the cruise. I'm with you, but what can we do?" + +"We'll do something," Costigan declared grimly. "If he makes a pass at +her I'll get him if I have to blow this whole sphere out of space, with +us in it!" + +"Don't do that, Conway," Clio's low voice, trembling but determined, was +felt by both men. "If there's a chance for you to get away and do +anything about fighting him, don't mind me. Maybe he only wants to talk +about the ransom, anyway." + +"He wouldn't talk ransom to _you_--he's going to talk something else +entirely," Costigan gritted, then his voice changed suddenly. "But say, +maybe it's just as well this way. They didn't find our specials when +they searched us, you know, and we're going to do plenty of damage right +soon now. Roger probably isn't a fast worker--more the cat-and-mouse +type, I'd say--and after we get started he'll have something on his mind +besides you. Think you can stall him off and keep him interested for +about fifteen minutes?" + +"I'm sure I can--I'll do _anything_ to help us, or you, get away from +this horrible...." Her voice ceased as Roger broke the ether-wall of her +apartment and walked toward the divan, upon which she crouched in +wide-eyed, helpless, trembling terror. + +"Get ready, Bradley!" Costigan directed tersely. "He left Clio's +ether-wall off, so that any abnormal signals would be relayed to him +from his desk--he knows that there's no chance of anyone disturbing him +in that room. But I'm holding a beam on that switch, so that the wall is +on, full strength. No matter what we do now, he can't get a warning. +I'll have to hold the beam exactly in place, though, so you'll have to +do the dirty work. Tear out that red wire and kill those two guards. You +know how to kill a robot, don't you?" + +"Yes--break his eye-lenses and his ear-drums and he'll stop whatever +he's doing and send out distress calls.... Got 'em both. Now what?" + +"Open my door--the shield switch is to the right." + +Costigan's door flew open and the Triplanetary captain leaped into the +room. + +"Now for our armor!" he cried. + +"Not yet!" snapped Costigan. He was standing rigid, goggled eyes staring +immovably at a spot on the ceiling. "I can't move a millimeter until +you've closed Clio's ether-wall switch. If I take this ray off it for a +second we're sunk. Five floors up, straight ahead down a +corridor--fourth door on right. When you're at the switch you'll feel my +ray on your watch. Snap it up!" + +"Right," and the captain leaped away at a pace to be equalled by few men +of half his years. + +Soon he was back, and after Costigan had tested the ether-wall of the +"bridal suite" to make sure that no warning signal from his desk or his +servants could reach Roger within it, the two officers hurried away +toward the room in which their space-armor was. + +"Too bad they don't wear uniforms," panted Bradley, short of breath +from the many flights of stairs. "Might have helped some as disguise." + +"I doubt it--with so many robots around, they've probably got signals +that we couldn't understand anyway. If we meet anybody it'll mean a +battle. Hold it!" Peering through walls with his spy-ray, Costigan had +seen two men approaching, blocking an intersecting corridor into which +they must turn. "Two of 'em, a man and a robot--the robot's on your +side. We'll wait here, right at the corner--when they round it take +'em!" and Costigan put away his goggles in readiness for strife. + +All unsuspecting, the two pirates came into view, and as they appeared +the two officers struck. Costigan, on the inside, drove a short, hard +right low into the human pirate's abdomen. The fiercely-driven fist sank +to the wrist into the soft tissues and the stricken man collapsed. But +even as the blow landed Costigan had seen that there was a third enemy, +following close behind the two he had been watching, a pirate who was +even then training a ray projector upon him. Reacting automatically, +Costigan swung his unconscious opponent around in front of him, so that +it was into an enemy's body that the vicious ray tore, and not into his +own. Crouching down into the smallest possible compass, he straightened +out with the lashing force of a mighty steel spring, hurling the corpse +straight at the flaming mouth of the projector. The weapon crashed to +the floor and dead pirate and living went down in a heap. Upon that heap +Costigan hurled himself, feeling for the pirate's throat. But the fellow +had wriggled clear, and countered with a gouging thrust that would have +torn out the eyes of a slower man, following it up instantly with a +savage kick for the groin. No automaton this, geared and set to perform +certain fixed duties with mechanical precision, but a lithe, strong man +in hard training, fighting with every foul trick known to his murderous +ilk. + +But Costigan was no tyro in the art of dirty fighting. Few indeed were +the maiming tricks of foul combat unknown to even the rank and file of +the highly efficient under-cover branch of the Triplanetary Service; and +Costigan, a Sector Chief, knew them all. Not for pleasure, +sportsmanship, nor million-dollar purses did those secret agents use +Nature's weapons. They came to grips only when it could not possibly be +avoided, but when they were forced to fight in that fashion they went in +with but one grim purpose--to kill, and to kill in the shortest possible +space of time. Thus it was that Costigan's opening soon came. The +pirate launched a vicious _coup de sabot_, which Costigan avoided by a +lightning shift. It was a slight shift, barely enough to make the kicker +miss, and two powerful hands closed upon that flying foot in midair like +the sprung jaws of a bear-trap. Closed and twisted viciously, in the +same fleeting instant. There was a shriek, smothered as a heavy boot +crashed to its carefully predetermined mark--the pirate was out, +definitely and permanently. + +The struggle had lasted scarcely ten seconds, coming to its close just +as Bradley finished blinding and deafening the robot. Costigan picked up +the projector, again donned his spy-ray goggles, and the two hurried on. + +"Nice work, Chief--it must be a gift to rough-house the way you do," +Bradley exclaimed. "That's why you took the live one?" + +"Practice helps some, too--I've been in brawls before, and I'm a lot +younger and maybe a bit faster than you are," Costigan explained +briefly, penetrant gaze rigidly to the fore as they ran along one +corridor after another. + +Several more guards, both living and mechanical, were encountered on the +way, but they were not permitted to offer any opposition. Costigan saw +them first. In the furious beam of the projector of the dead pirate they +were riven into nothingness, and the two officers sped on to the room +which Costigan had located from afar. The three suits of Triplanetary +space armor had been locked up in a cabinet; a cabinet whose doors +Costigan literally blew off with a blast of force rather than consume +time in tracing the power leads. + +"I feel like something now!" Costigan, once more encased in his own +armor, heaved a great sigh of relief. "Rough-and-tumble's all right with +one or two, but that generator room is full of grief, and we won't have +any too much stuff as it is. We've got to take Clio's suit along--we'll +carry it down to the door of the power room, drop it there, and pick it +up on the way back." + +Contemptuous now of possible guards, the armored pair strode toward the +power plant--the very heart of the immense fortress of space. Guards +were encountered, and captains--officers who signaled frantically to +their chief, since he alone could unleash the frightful forces at his +command, and who profanely wondered at his unwonted silence--but the +enemy beams were impotent against the ether walls of that armor; and the +pirates, without armor in the security of their own planetoid as they +were, vanished utterly in the ravening beams of the twin Lewistons. As +they paused before the door of the power room, both men felt Clio's +voice raised in her first and last appeal, an appeal wrung from her +against her will by the extremity of her position. + +"Conway! Hurry! His eyes--they're tearing me apart! Hurry, dear!" In the +horror-filled tones both men read clearly--however inaccurately--the +girl's dire extremity. Each saw plainly a happy, carefree young +Earth-girl, upon her first trip into space, locked inside an ether-wall +with an over-brained, under-conscienced human machine--a +super-intelligent, but lecherous and unmoral mechanism of flesh and +blood, acknowledging no authority, ruled by nothing save his own +scientific drivings and the almost equally powerful urges of his desires +and passions! She must have fought with every resource at her command. +She must have wept and pleaded, stormed and raged, feigned submission +and played for time--and her torment had not touched in the slightest +degree the merciless and gloating brain of the being who called himself +Roger. Now his tantalizing, ruthless cat-play would be done, the +horrible gray-brown face would be close to hers--she wailed her final +despairing message to Costigan and attacked that hideous face with the +fury of a tigress. + +Costigan bit off a bitter imprecation. "Hold him just a second longer, +sweetheart!" he cried, and the power room door vanished. + +Through the great room the two Lewistons swept at full aperture and at +maximum power, two rapidly-opening fans of death and destruction. Here +and there a guard, more rapid than his fellows, trained a futile +projector--a projector whose magazine exploded at the touch of that +frightful field of force, liberating instantaneously its thousands upon +thousands of kilowatt-hours of-stored-up energy. Through the delicately +adjusted, complex mechanisms the destroying beams tore. At their touch +armatures burned out, high-tension leads volatilized in crashing, +high-voltage arcs, masses of metal smoked and burned in the path of vast +forces now seeking the easiest path to neutralization, delicate +instruments blew up, copper ran in streams. As the last machine subsided +into a semi-molten mass of metal the two wreckers, each grasping a +brace, felt themselves become weightless and knew that they had +accomplished the first part of their program. + +Costigan leaped for the outer door. His the task to go to Clio's +aid--Bradley would follow more slowly, bringing the girl's armor and +taking care of any possible pursuit. As he sailed through the air he +spoke. + +"Coming, Clio! All right, girl?" Questioningly, half fearfully. + +"All right, Conway." Her voice was almost unrecognizable, broken in +retching agony. "When everything went crazy he ... found out that the +ether-wall was up and ... forgot all about me. He shut it off ... and +seemed to go crazy too ... he is floundering around like a wild man now +... I'm trying to keep ... him from ... going downstairs." + +"Good girl--keep him busy one minute more--he's getting all the warnings +at once and wants to get back to his board. But what's the matter with +you? Did he ... hurt you, after all?" + +"Oh, no, not that--he didn't do anything but look at me--but that was +bad enough--but I'm sick--horribly sick. I'm falling ... I'm so dizzy +that I can scarcely see ... my head is breaking up into little pieces +... I just _know_ I'm going to die, Conway! Oh ... oh!" + +"Oh, is _that_ all!" In his sheer relief that they had been in time, +Costigan did not think of sympathizing with Clio's very real present +distress of mind and body. "I forgot that you're a ground-gripper--that's +just a little touch of space-sickness. It'll wear off directly.... All +right, I'm coming! Let go of him and get as far away from him as you can!" + +He was now in the street. Perhaps two hundred feet distant and a hundred +feet above him was the tower room in which were Clio and Roger. He +sprang directly toward its large window, and as he floated "upward" he +corrected his course and accelerated his pace by firing backward at +various angles with his heavy service pistol, uncaring that at the point +of impact of each of those shells a small blast of destruction erupted. +He missed the window a trifle, but that did not matter--his flaming +Lewiston opened a way for him, partly through the window, partly through +the wall. As he soared through the opening he trained projector and +pistol upon Roger, now almost to the door, noticing as he did so that +Clio was clinging convulsively to a lamp-bracket upon the wall. Door and +wall vanished in the Lewiston's terrific beam, but the pirate stood +unharmed. Neither ravening ray nor explosive shell could harm him--he +had snapped on the protective shield whose generator was always upon his +person. + + * * * * * + +When Clio reported that Roger seemed to go crazy and was floundering +around like a wild man, she had no idea of how she was understanding +the actual situation; for Gharlane of Eddore, then energizing the form +of flesh that was Roger, had for the first time in his prodigiously long +life met in direct conflict with an overwhelming superior force. + +Roger had been sublimely confident that he could detect the use, +anywhere in or around his planetoid, of ultra-wave. He had been equally +sure that he could control directly and absolutely the physical +activities of any number of these semi-intelligent "human beings". + +But four Arisians in fusion--Drounli, Brolenteen, Nedanillor, and +Kriedigan--had been on guard for weeks. When the time came to act, they +acted. + +Roger's first thought, upon discovering what tremendous and inexplicable +damage had already been done, was to destroy instantly the two men who +were doing it. He could not touch them. His second was to blast out of +existence this supposedly human female, but no more could he touch her. +His fiercest mental bolts spent themselves harmlessly three millimeters +away from her skin; she gazed into his eyes completely unaware of the +torrents of energy pouring from them. He could not even aim a weapon at +her! His third was to call for help to Eddore. He could not. The +sub-ether was closed; nor could he either discover the manner of its +closing or trace the power which was keeping it closed! + +His Eddorian body, even if he could recreate it here, could not +withstand the environment--this Roger-thing would have to do whatever it +could, unaided by Gharlane's mental powers. And, physically, it was a +very capable body indeed. Also, it was armed and armored with mechanisms +of Gharlane's own devising; and Eddore's second-in-command was in no +sense a coward. + +But Roger, while not exactly a ground-gripper, did not know how to +handle himself without weight; whereas Costigan, given six walls against +which to push, was even more efficient in weightless combat than when +handicapped by the force of gravitation. Keeping his projector upon the +pirate, he seized the first club to hand--a long, slender pedestal of +metal--launched himself past the pirate chief. With all the momentum of +his mass and velocity and all the power of his good right arm he swung +the bar at the pirate's head. That fiercely-driven mass of metal should +have taken head from shoulders, but it did not. Roger's shield of force +was utterly rigid and impenetrable; the only effect of the frightful +blow was to set him spinning, end over end, like the flying baton of an +acrobatic drum-major. As the spinning form crashed against the opposite +wall of the room Bradley floated in, carrying Clio's armor. Without a +word the captain loosened the helpless girl's grip upon the bracket and +encased her in the suit. Then, supporting her at the window, he held his +Lewiston upon the captive's head while Costigan propelled him toward the +opening. Both men knew that Roger's shield of force must be threatened +every instant--that if he were allowed to release it he probably would +bring to bear a hand-weapon even superior to their own. + +Braced against the wall, Costigan sighted along Roger's body toward the +most distant point of the lofty dome of the artificial planet and gave +him a gentle push. Then, each grasping Clio by an arm, the two officers +shoved mightily with their feet and the three armored forms darted away +toward their only hope of escape--an emergency boat which could be +launched through the shell of the great globe. To attempt to reach the +_Hyperion_ and to escape in one of her lifeboats would have been +useless; they could not have forced the great gates of the main airlocks +and no other exits existed. As they sailed onward through the air, +Costigan keeping the slowly-floating form of Roger enveloped in his +beam, Clio began to recover. + +"Suppose they get their gravity fixed?" she asked, apprehensively. "And +they're raying us and shooting at us!" + +"They may have it fixed already. They undoubtedly have spare parts and +duplicate generators, but if they turn it on the fall will kill Roger +too, and he wouldn't like that. They'll have to get him down with a +helicopter or something, and they know that we'll get them as fast as +they come up. They can't hurt us with hand-weapons, and before they can +bring up any heavy stuff they'll be afraid to use it, because well be +too close to their shell. + +"I wish we could have brought Roger along," he continued, savagely, to +Bradley. "But you were right, of course--it'd be altogether too much +like a rabbit capturing a wildcat. My Lewiston's about done right now, +and there can't be much left of yours--what he'd do to us would be a sin +and a shame." + +Now at the great wall, the two men heaved mightily upon a lever, the +gate of the emergency port swung slowly open, and they entered the +miniature cruiser of the void. Costigan, familiar with the mechanism of +the craft from careful study from his prison cell, manipulated the +controls. Through gate after massive gate they went, until finally they +were out in open space, shooting toward distant Tellus at the maximum +acceleration of which their small craft was capable. + +Costigan cut the other two phones out of circuit and spoke, his +attention fixed upon some extremely distant point. + +"Samms!" he called sharply. "Costigan. We're out ... all right ... yes +... sure ... absolutely ... you tell 'em, Sammy, I've got company here." + +Through the sound-disks of their helmets the girl and the captain had +heard Costigan's share of the conversation. Bradley stared at his +erstwhile first officer in amazement, and even Clio had often heard that +mighty, half-mythical name. Surely that bewildering young man must rank +high, to speak so familiarly to Virgil Samms, the all-powerful head of +the space-pervading Service of the Triplanetary League! + +"You've turned in a general call-out," Bradley stated, rather than +asked. + +"Long ago--I've been in touch right along," Costigan answered. "Now that +they know what to look for and know that ether-wave detectors are +useless, they can find it. Every vessel in seven sectors, clear down to +the scout patrols, is concentrating on this point, and the call is out +for all battleships and cruisers afloat. There are enough operatives out +there with ultra-waves to locate that globe, and once they spot it +they'll point it out to all the other vessels." + +"But how about the other prisoners?" asked the girl. "They'll be killed, +won't they?" + +"Hard telling," Costigan shrugged. "Depends on how things turn out. We +lack a lot of being safe ourselves yet." + +"What's worrying me mostly is our own chance," Bradley assented. "They +will chase us, of course." + +"Sure, and they'll have more speed than we have. Depends on how far away +the nearest Triplanetary vessels are. But we've done everything we can +do, for now." + +Silence fell, and Costigan cut in Clio's phone and came over to the seat +upon which she was reclining, white and stricken--worn out by the +horrible and terrifying ordeals of the last few hours. As he seated +himself beside her she blushed vividly, but her deep blue eyes met his +gray ones steadily. + +"Clio, I ... we ... you ... that is," he flushed hotly and stopped. This +secret agent, whose clear, keen brain no physical danger could cloud; +who had proved over and over again that he was never at a loss in any +emergency, however desperate--this quick-witted officer floundered in +embarrassment like any schoolboy; but continued, doggedly: "I'm afraid +that I gave myself away back there, but...." + +"We gave ourselves away, you mean," she filled in the pause. "I did my +share, but I won't hold you to it if you don't want--but I _know_ that +you love me, Conway!" + +"_Love_ you!" the man groaned, his face lined and hard, his whole body +rigid. "That doesn't half tell it, Clio. You don't need to hold me--I'm +held for life. There never was a woman who meant anything to me before, +and there never will be another. You're the only woman that ever +existed. It isn't that. Can't you see that it's impossible?" + +"Of course I can't--it isn't impossible, at all." She released her +shields, four hands met and tightly clasped, and her low voice thrilled +with feeling as she went on: "You love me and I love you. That is all +that matters." + +"I wish it were," Costigan returned bitterly, "but you don't know what +you'd be letting yourself in for. It's who and what you are and who and +what I am that's griping me. You, Clio Marsden, Curtis Marsden's +daughter. Nineteen years old. You think you've been places and done +things. You haven't. You haven't seen or done anything--you don't know +what it's all about. And whom am I to love a girl like you? A homeless +spacehound who hasn't been on any planet three weeks in three years. A +hard-boiled egg. A trouble-shooter and a brawler by instinct and +training. A sp ..." he bit off the word and went on quickly: "Why, you +don't know me at all, and there's a lot of me that you never _will_ +know--that I can't let you know! You'd better lay off me, girl, while +you can. It'll be best for you, believe me." + +"But I can't, Conway, and neither can you," the girl answered softly, a +glorious light in her eyes. "It's too late for that. On the ship it was +just another of those things, but since then we've come really to know +each other, and we're sunk. The situation is out of control, and we both +know it--and neither of us would change it if we could, and you know +that, too. I don't know very much, I admit, but I do know what you +thought you'd have to keep from me, and I admire you all the more for +it. We all honor the Service, Conway dearest--it is only you men who +have made and are keeping the Three Planets fit places to live in--and I +know that any one of Virgil Samms' assistants would have to be a man in +a thousand million...." + +"What makes you think that?" he demanded sharply. + +"You told me so yourself, indirectly. Who else in the three worlds could +possibly call him 'Sammy?' You are hard, of course, but you must be +so--and I never did like soft men, anyway. And you brawl in a good +cause. You are very much a _man_, my Conway; a real, _real_ man, and I +love you! Now, if they catch us, all right--we'll die together, at +least!" she finished, intensely. + +"You're right, sweetheart, of course," he admitted. "I don't believe +that I _could_ really let you let me go, even though I know you ought +to," and their hands locked together even more firmly than before. "If +we ever get out of this jam I'm going to kiss you, but this is no time +to be taking off your helmet. In fact, I'm taking too many chances with +you in keeping your shields off. Snap 'em on again--they ought to be +getting fairly close by this time." + +Hands released and armor again tight, Costigan went over to join Bradley +at the control board. + +"How are they coming, Captain?" he asked. + +"Not so good. Quite a ways off yet. At least an hour, I'd say, before a +cruiser can get within range." + +"I'll see if I can locate any of the pirates chasing us. If I do it'll +be by accident; this little spy-ray isn't good for much except close +work. I'm afraid the first warning we'll have will be when they take +hold of us with a tractor or spear us with a needle. Probably a beam, +though; this is one of their emergency lifeboats and they wouldn't want +to destroy it unless they have to. Also, I imagine that Roger wants us +alive pretty badly. He has unfinished business with all three of us, and +I can well believe that his 'not particularly pleasant extinction' will +be even less so after the way we rooked him." + +"I want you to do me a favor, Conway." Clio's face was white with horror +at the thought of facing again that unspeakable creature of gray. "Give +me a gun or something, please. I don't want him ever to look at me that +way again, to say nothing of what else he might do, while I'm alive." + +"He won't," Costigan assured her, narrow of eye and grim of jaw. He was, +as she had said, hard. "But you don't want a gun. You might get nervous +and use it too soon. I'll take care of you at the last possible moment, +because if he gets hold of us we won't stand a chance of getting away +again." + +For minutes there was silence, Costigan surveying the ether in all +directions with his ultra-wave device. Suddenly he laughed, and the +others stared at him in surprise. + +"No, I'm not crazy," he told them. "This is really funny; it had never +occurred to me that the ether-walls of all these ships make them +invisible. I can see them, of course, with this sub-ether spy, but they +can't see us! I knew that they should have overtaken us before this. +I've finally found them. They've passed us, and are now tacking around, +waiting for us to do something so that they can see us! They're heading +right into the Fleet--they think they're safe, of course, but what a +surprise they've got coming to them!" + +But it was not only the pirates who were to be surprised. Long before +the pirate ship had come within extreme visibility range of the +Triplanetary Fleet it lost its invisibility and was starkly outlined +upon the lookout plates of the three fugitives. For a few seconds the +pirate craft seemed unchanged, then it began to glow redly, with a red +that seemed to become darker as it grew stronger. Then the sharp +outlines blurred, puffs of air burst outward, and the metal of the hull +became a viscous, fluid-like something, flowing away in a long, red +streamer into seemingly empty space. Costigan turned his ultra-gaze into +that space and saw that it was actually far from empty. There lay a vast +something, formless and indefinite even to his sub-etheral vision; a +something into which the viscid stream of transformed metal plunged. +Plunged and vanished. + +Powerful interference blanketed his ultra-wave and howled throughout his +body; but in the hope that some parts of his message might get through +he called Samms, and calmly and clearly he narrated everything that had +just happened. He continued his crisp report, neglecting not the +smallest detail, while their tiny craft was drawn inexorably toward a +redly impermeable veil; continued it until their lifeboat, still intact, +shot through that veil and he found himself unable to move. He was +conscious, he was breathing normally, his heart was beating; but not a +voluntary muscle would obey his will! + + + + +CHAPTER 9 + +FLEET AGAINST PLANETOID + + +One of the newest and fleetest of the patrol vessels of the Triplanetary +League, the heavy cruiser _Chicago_ of the North American Division of +the Tellurian Contingent, plunged stolidly through interplanetary +vacuum. For five long weeks she had patrolled her allotted volume of +space. In another week she would report back to the city whose name she +bore, where her space-weary crew, worn by their long "tour" in the +awesomely oppressive depths of the limitless void, would enjoy to the +full their fortnight of refreshing planetary leave. + +She was performing certain routine tasks--charting meteorites, watching +for derelicts and other obstructions to navigation, checking in +constantly with all scheduled space-ships in case of need, and so +on--but primarily she was a warship. She was a mighty engine of +destruction, hunting for the unauthorized vessels of whatever power or +planet it was that had not only defied the Triplanetary League, but was +evidently attempting to overthrow it; attempting to plunge the Three +Planets back into the ghastly sink of bloodshed and destruction from +which they had so recently emerged. Every space-ship within range of her +powerful detectors was represented by two brilliant, slowly-moving +points of light; one upon a greater micrometer screen, the other in the +"tank," the immense, three-dimensional, minutely cubed model of the +entire Solar System. + +A brilliantly intense red light flared upon a panel and a bell clanged +brazenly the furious signals of the sector alarm. Simultaneously a +speaker roared forth its message of a ship in dire peril. + +"Sector alarm! N.A.T. _Hyperion_ gassed with Vee-Two. Nothing detectable +in space, but...." + +The half-uttered message was drowned out in a crackling roar of +meaningless noise, the orderly signals of the bell became a hideous +clamor, and the two points of light which had marked the location of the +liner disappeared in widely spreading flashes of the same high-powered +interference. Observers, navigators, and control officers were alike +dumbfounded. Even the captain, in the shell-proof, shock-proof, and +doubly ray-proof retreat of his conning compartment, was equally at a +loss. No ship or thing could _possibly_ be close enough to be sending +out interfering waves of such tremendous power--yet there they were! + +"Maximum acceleration, straight for the point where the _Hyperion_ was +when her tracers went out," the captain ordered, and through the fringe +of that widespread interference he drove a solid beam, reporting +concisely to GHQ. Almost instantly the emergency call-out came roaring +in--every vessel of the Sector, of whatever class or tonnage, was to +concentrate upon the point in space where the ill-fated liner had last +been known to be. + +Hour after hour the great globe drove on at maximum acceleration, +captain and every control officer alert and at high tension. But in +Quartermasters' Department, deep down below the generator rooms, no +thought was given to such minor matters as the disappearance of a +_Hyperion_. The inventory did not balance, and two Q.M. privates were +trying, profanely and without success, to find the discrepancy. + +"Charged calls for Mark Twelve Lewistons, none requisitioned, on hand +eighteen thous...." The droning voice broke off short in the middle of a +word and the private stood rigid, in the act of reaching for another +slip, every faculty concentrated upon something imperceptible to his +companion. + +"Come on, Cleve--snap it up!" the second commanded, but was silenced by +a vicious wave of the listener's hand. + +"What!" the rigid one exclaimed. "Reveal ourselves! Why, it's.... Oh, +all right.... Oh, that's it ... uh-huh ... I see ... yes, I've got it +solid. So long!" + +The inventory sheets fell unheeded from his hand, and his fellow private +stared after him in amazement as he strode over to the desk of the +officer in charge. That officer also stared as the hitherto easy-going +and gold-bricking Cleve saluted crisply, showed him something flat in +the palm of his left hand, and spoke. + +"I've just got some of the funniest orders ever put out, lieutenant, but +they came from 'way, 'way up. I'm to join the brass hats in the Center. +You'll know all about it directly, I imagine. Cover me up as much as you +can, will you?" and he was gone. + +Unchallenged he made his way to the control room, and his curt "urgent +report for the Captain" admitted him there without question. But when he +approached the sacred precincts of the captain's own and inviolate room, +he was stopped in no uncertain fashion by no less a personage than the +Officer of the Day. + +"... and report yourself under arrest immediately!" the O.D. concluded +his brief but pointed speech. + +"You were right in stopping me, of course," the intruder conceded, +unmoved. "I wanted to get in there without giving everything away, if +possible, but it seems that I can't. Well, I've been ordered by Virgil +Samms to report to the Captain, at once. See this? Touch it!" He held +out a flat, insulated disk, cover thrown back to reveal a tiny golden +meteor, at the sight of which the officer's truculent manner altered +markedly. + +"I've heard of them, of course, but I never saw one before," and the +officer touched the shining symbol lightly with his finger, jerking +backward as there shot through his whole body a thrilling surge of +power, shouting into his very bones an unpronounceable syllable--the +password of the Triplanetary Service. "Genuine or not, it gets you to +the Captain. He'll know, and if it's a fake you'll be breathing space in +five minutes." + +Projector at the ready, the Officer of the Day followed Cleve into the +Holy of Holies. There the grizzled four-striper touched the golden +meteor lightly, then drove his piercing gaze deep into the unflinching +eyes of the younger man. But that captain had won his high rank neither +by accident nor by "pull"--he understood at once. + +"It _must_ be an emergency," he growled, half-audibly, still staring at +his lowly Q-M clerk, "to make Samms uncover this way." He turned and +curtly dismissed the wondering O.D. Then: "All right! Out with it!" + +"Serious enough so that every one of us afloat has just received orders +to reveal himself to his commanding officer and to anyone else, if +necessary to reach that officer at once--orders never before issued. The +enemy have been located. They have built a base, and have ships better +than our best. Base and ships cannot be seen or detected by any ether +wave. However, the Service has been experimenting for years with a new +type of communicator beam; and, while pretty crude yet, it was given to +us when the _Dione_ went out without leaving a trace. One of our men was +in the _Hyperion_, managed to stay alive, and has been sending data. I +am instructed to attach my new phone set to one of the universal plates +in your conning room, and to see what I can find." + +"Go to it!" The captain waved his hand and the operative bent to his +task. + +"Commanders of all vessels of the Fleet!" The Headquarters speaker, +receiver sealed upon the wave-length of the Admiral of the Fleet, broke +the long silence. "All vessels in sectors L to R, inclusive, will +interlock location signals. Some of you have received, or will receive +shortly, certain communications from sources which need not be +mentioned. Those commanders will at once send out red K4 screens. +Vessels so marked will act as temporary flagships. Unmarked vessels will +proceed at maximum to the nearest flagship, grouping about it in the +regulation squadron cone in order of arrival. Squadrons most distant +from objective point designated by flagship observers will proceed +toward it at maximum; squadrons nearest it will decelerate or reverse +velocity--that point must not be approached until full Fleet formation +has been accomplished. Heavy and light cruisers of all other sectors +inside the orbit of Mars...." The orders went on, directing the +mobilization of the stupendous forces of the League, so that they would +be in readiness in the highly improbable event of the failure of the +massed power of seven sectors to reduce the pirate base. + +In those seven sectors perhaps a dozen vessels threw out enormous +spherical screens of intense red light, and as they did so their tracer +points upon all the interlocked lookout plates also became ringed about +with red. Toward those crimson markers the pilots of the unmarked +vessels directed their courses at their utmost power; and while the +white lights upon the lookout plates moved slowly toward and clustered +about the red ones the ultra-instruments of the Service operatives were +probing into space, sweeping the neighborhood of the computed position +of the pirate's stronghold. + +But the object sought was so far away that the small spy-ray sets of the +Service men, intended as they were for close range work, were unable to +make contact with the invisible planetoid for which they were seeking. +In the captain's sanctum of the _Chicago_, the operative studied his +plate for only a minute or two, then shut off his power and fell into a +brown study, from which he was rudely aroused. + +"Aren't you even going to _try_ to find them?" demanded the captain. + +"No," Cleve returned shortly. "No use--not half enough power or control. +I'm trying to think ... maybe ... say, Captain, will you please have the +Chief Electrician and a couple of radio men come in here?" + +They came, and for hours, while the other ultra-wave men searched the +apparently empty ether with their ineffective beams, the three technical +experts and the erstwhile Quartermaster's clerk labored upon a huge and +complex ultra-wave projector--the three blindly and with doubtful +questions; the one with sure knowledge at least of what he was trying to +do. Finally the thing was done, the crude, but efficient graduated +circles were set, and the tubes glowed redly as their massed output +drove into a tight beam of ultra-vibration. + +"There it is, sir," Cleve reported, after some ten minutes of +manipulation, and the vast structure of the miniature world flashed into +being upon his plate. "You may notify the fleet--coordinates H 11.62, RA +124-31-16, and Dx about 173.2." + +The report made and the assistants out of the room, the captain turned +to the observer and saluted gravely. + +"We have always known, sir, that the Service had _men_; but I had no +idea that any one man could possibly do, on the spur of the moment, +what you have just done--unless that man happened to be Lyman +Cleveland." + +"Oh, it doesn't...." the observer began, but broke off, muttering +unintelligibly at intervals; then swung the visiray beam toward the +Earth. Soon a face appeared upon the plate; the keen, but careworn face +of Virgil Samms! + +"Hello, Lyman," his voice came clearly from the speaker, and the Captain +gasped--his ultra-wave observer and sometime clerk was Lyman Cleveland +himself, probably the greatest living expert in beam transmission! "I +knew that you'd do something, if it could be done. How about it--can the +others install similar sets on their ships? I'm betting that they +can't." + +"Probably not," Cleveland frowned in thought. "This is a patchwork +affair, made of gunny sacks and hay-wire. I'm holding it together by +main strength and awkwardness, and even at that, it's apt to go to +pieces any minute." + +"Can you rig it up for photography?" + +"I think so. Just a minute--yes, I can. Why?" + +"Because there's something going on out there that neither we nor +apparently the pirates know anything about. The Admiralty seems to think +that it's the Jovians again, but we don't see how it can be--if it is, +they have developed a lot of stuff that none of our agents has even +suspected," and he recounted briefly what Costigan had reported to him, +concluding: "Then there was a burst of interference--on the +_ultra-band_, mind you--and I've heard nothing from him since. Therefore +I want you to stay out of the battle entirely. Stay as far away from it +as you can and still get good pictures of everything that happens. I +will see that orders are issued to the _Chicago_ to that effect." + +"But listen...." + +"Those are orders!" snapped Samms. "It is of the utmost importance that +we know every detail of what is going to happen. The answer is pictures. +The only possibility of obtaining pictures is that machine you have just +developed. If the fleet wins, nothing will be lost. If the fleet +loses--and I am not half as confident of success as the Admiral is--the +_Chicago_ doesn't carry enough power to decide the issue, and we will +have the pictures to study, which is all-important. Besides, we have +probably lost Conway Costigan today, and we don't want to lose _you_, +too." + +Cleveland remained silent, pondering this startling news, but the +grizzled Captain, veteran of the Fourth Jovian War that he was, was not +convinced. + +"We'll blow them out of space, Mr. Samms!" he declared. + +"You just think you will, Captain. I have suggested, as forcibly as +possible, that the general attack be withheld until after a thorough +investigation is made, but the Admiralty will not listen. They see the +advisability of withdrawing a camera ship, but that is as far as they +will go." + +"And that's plenty far enough!" growled the _Chicago's_ commander, as +the beam snapped off. "Mr. Cleveland, I don't like the idea of running +away under fire, and I won't do it without direct orders from the +Admiral." + +"Of course you won't--that's why you are going...." + +He was interrupted by a voice from the Headquarters speaker. The captain +stepped up to the plate and, upon being recognized, he received the +exact orders which had been requested by the Chief of the Triplanetary +Service. + +Thus it was that the _Chicago_ reversed her acceleration, cut off her +red screen, and fell rapidly behind, while the vessels following her +shot away toward another crimson-flaring loader. Farther and farther +back she dropped, back to the limiting range of the mechanism upon which +Cleveland and his highly-trained assistants were hard at work. And +during all this time the forces of the seven sectors had been +concentrating. The pilot vessels, with their flaming red screens, each +followed by a cone of space-ships, drew closer and closer together, +approaching the _Fearless_--the British super-dreadnought which was to +be the flagship of the Fleet--the mightiest and heaviest space-ship +which had yet lifted her stupendous mass into the ether. + +Now, systematically and precisely, the great Cone of Battle was coming +into being; a formation developed during the Jovian Wars while the +forces of the Three Planets were fighting in space for their very +civilizations' existence, and one never used since the last space-fleets +of Jupiter's murderous hordes had been wiped out. + +The mouth of that enormous hollow cone was a ring of scout patrols, the +smallest and most agile vessels of the fleet. Behind them came a +somewhat smaller ring of light cruisers, then rings of heavy cruisers +and of light battleships, and finally of heavy battleships. At the apex +of the cone, protected by all the other vessels of the formation and in +best position to direct the battle, was the flagship. In this formation +every vessel was free to use her every weapon, with a minimum of danger +to her sister ships; and yet, when the gigantic main projectors were +operated along the axis of the formation, from the entire vast circle of +the cone's mouth there flamed a cylindrical field of force of such +intolerable intensity that in it no conceivable substance could endure +for a moment! + +The artificial planet of metal was now close enough so that it was +visible to the ultra-vision of the Service men, so plainly visible that +the cigar-shaped warships of the pirates were seen issuing from the +enormous airlocks. As each vessel shot out into space it sped straight +for the approaching fleet without waiting to go into any formation--gray +Roger believed his structures invisible to Triplanetary eyes, thought +that the presence of the fleet was the result of mathematical +calculations, and was convinced that his mighty vessels of the void +would destroy even that vast fleet without themselves becoming known. He +was wrong. The foremost vessels were allowed actually to enter the mouth +of that conical trap before an offensive move was made. Then the +vice-admiral in command of the fleet touched a button, and +simultaneously every generator in every Triplanetary vessel burst into +furious activity. Instantly the hollow volume of the immense cone became +a coruscating hell of resistless energy, an inferno which with the +velocity of light extended itself into a far-reaching cylinder of +rapacious destruction. Ether-waves they were, it is true, but vibrations +driven with such fierce intensity that the screens of deflection +surrounding the pirate vessels could not handle even a fraction of their +awful power. Invisibility lost, their defensive screens flared briefly; +but even the enormous force backing Roger's inventions, far greater than +that of any single Triplanetary vessel, could not hold off the +incredible violence of the massed attack of the hundreds of mighty +vessels composing the Fleet. Their defensive screens flared briefly, +then went down; their great hulls first glowing red, then shining white, +then in a brief moment exploding into flying masses of red hot, molten, +and gaseous metal. + +A full two-thirds of Roger's force was caught in that raging, +incandescent beam; caught and obliterated: but the remainder did not +retreat to the planetoid. Darting out around the edge of the cone at a +stupendous acceleration, they attacked its flanks and the engagement +became general. But now, since enough beams were kept upon each ship of +the enemy so that invisibility could not be restored, each Triplanetary +war vessel could attack with full efficiency. Magnesium flares and +star-shells illuminated space for a thousand miles, and from every unit +of both fleets was being hurled every item of solid, explosive and +vibratory destruction known to the warfare of that age. Offensive beams, +rods and daggers of frightful power struck and were neutralized by +defensive screens equally capable; the long range and furious dodging +made ordinary solid, or even atomic-explosive projectiles useless; and +both sides were filling all space with such a volume of blanketing +frequencies that such radio-dirigible atomics as were launched could not +be controlled, but darted madly and erratically hither and thither, +finally to be exploded or volatilized harmlessly in mid-space by the +touch of some fiercely insistant, probing beam of force. + +Individually, however, the pirate vessels were far more powerful than +those of the fleet, and that superiority soon began to make itself felt. +The power of the smaller ships began to fail as their accumulators +became discharged under the awful drain of the battle, and vessel after +vessel of the Triplanetary fleet was hurled into nothingness by the +concentrated blasts of the pirates' rays. But the Triplanetary forces +had one great advantage. In furious haste the Service men had been +altering the controls of the dirigible atomic torpedoes, so that they +would respond to ultra-wave control; and, few in number though they +were, each was highly effective. + +A hard-eyed observer, face almost against his plate and both hands and +both feet manipulating controls, hurled the first torpedo. Propelling +rockets viciously aflame, it twisted and looped around the incandescent +rods of destruction so thickly and starkly outlined, under perfect +control; unaffected by the hideous distortion of all ether-borne +signals. Through a pirate screen it went, and under the terrific blast +of its detonation the entire midsection of the stricken battleship +vanished. It should have been out, cold--but to the amazement of the +observers, both ends kept on fighting with scarcely lessened power! Two +more of the frightful bombs had to be launched--each remaining section +had to be blown to bits--before those terrible beams went out! Not a man +in that great fleet had even an inkling of the truth; that those great +vessels, those awful engines of destruction, did not contain a single +living creature: that they were manned and fought by automatons; robots +controlled by keen-eyed, space-hardened veterans inside the pirates' +planetoid! + +But they were to receive an inkling of it. As ship after ship of the +pirate fleet was destroyed, Roger realized that his navy was beaten, and +forthwith all his surviving vessels darted toward the apex of the cone, +where the heaviest battleships were stationed. There each hurled itself +upon a Triplanetary warship, crashing to its own destruction, but in +that destruction insuring the loss of one of the heaviest vessels of the +enemy. Thus passed the _Fearless_, and twenty of the finest space-ships +of the fleet as well. But the ranking officer assumed command, the +war-cone was re-formed, and, yawning maw to the fore, the great +formation shot toward the pirate stronghold, now near at hand. It again +launched its stupendous cylinder of annihilation, but even as the mighty +defensive screens of the planetoid flared into incandescently furious +defense, the battle was interrupted and pirates and Triplanetarians +learned alike that they were not alone in the ether. + +Space became suffused with a redly impenetrable opacity, and through +that indescribable pall there came reaching huge arms of force +incredible; writhing, coruscating beams of power which glowed a baleful, +although almost imperceptible, red. A vessel of unheard-of armament and +power, hailing from the then unknown solar system of Nevia, had come to +rest in that space. For months her commander had been searching for one +ultra-precious substance. Now his detectors had found it; and, feeling +neither fear of Triplanetarian weapons nor reluctance to sacrifice those +thousands of Triplanetarian lives, he was about to take it! + + + + +CHAPTER 10 + +WITHIN THE RED VEIL + + +Nevia, the home planet of the marauding space-ship, would have appeared +peculiar indeed to Terrestrial senses. High in the deep red heavens a +fervent blue sun poured down its flood of brilliant purplish light upon +a world of water. Not a cloud was to be seen in that flaming sky, and +through that dustless atmosphere the eye could see the horizon--a +horizon three times as distant as the one to which we are +accustomed--with a distinctness and clarity impossible in our Terra's +dust-filled air. As that mighty sun dropped below the horizon the sky +would fill suddenly with clouds and rain would fall violently and +steadily until midnight. Then the clouds would vanish as suddenly as +they had come into being, the torrential downpour would cease, and +through that huge world's wonderfully transparent gaseous envelope the +full glory of the firmament would be revealed. Not the firmament as we +know it--for that hot blue sun and Nevia, her one planet-child, were +light-years distant from Old Sol and his numerous brood--but a strange +and glorious firmament containing few constellations familiar to Earthly +eyes. + +Out of the vacuum of space a fish-shaped vessel of the void--the vessel +that was to attack so boldly both the massed fleet of Triplanetary and +Roger's planetoid--plunged into the rarefied outer atmosphere, and +crimson beams of force tore shriekingly through the thin air as it +braked its terrific speed. A third of the circumference of Nevia's +mighty globe was traversed before the velocity of the craft could be +reduced sufficiently to make a landing possible. Then, approaching the +twilight zone, the vessel dived vertically downward, and it became +evident that Nevia was neither entirely aqueous nor devoid of +intelligent life. For the blunt nose of the space-ship was pointing +toward what was evidently a half-submerged city, a city whose buildings +were flat-topped, hexagonal towers, exactly alike in size, shape, color, +and material. These buildings were arranged as the cells of a honeycomb +would be if each cell were separated from its neighbors by a relatively +narrow channel of water, and all were built of the same white metal. +Many bridges and more tubes extended through the air from building to +building, and the watery "streets" teemed with swimmers, with surface +craft, and with submarines. + +The pilot, stationed immediately below the conical prow of the +space-ship, peered intently through thick windows which afforded +unobstructed vision in every direction. His four huge and contractile +eyes were active, each operating independently in sending its own +message to his peculiar but capable brain. One was watching the +instruments, the others scanned narrowly the immense, swelling curve of +the ship's belly, the water upon which his vessel was to land, and the +floating dock to which it was to be moored. Four hands--if hands they +could be called--manipulated levers and wheels with infinite delicacy of +touch, and with scarcely a splash the immense mass of the Nevian vessel +struck the water and glided to a stop within a foot of its exact berth. + +Four mooring bars dropped neatly into their sockets and the +captain-pilot, after locking his controls in neutral, released his +safety straps and leaped lightly from his padded bench to the floor. +Scuttling across the floor and down a runway upon his four short, +powerful, heavily scaled legs, he slipped smoothly into the water and +flashed away, far below the surface. For Nevians are true amphibians. +Their blood is cold; they use with equal comfort and efficiency gills +and lungs for breathing; their scaly bodies are equally at home in the +water or in the air; their broad, flat feet serve equally well for +running about upon a solid surface or for driving their streamlined +bodies through the water at a pace few fishes can equal. + +Through the water the Nevian commander darted along, steering his course +accurately by means of his short, vaned tail. Through an opening in a +wall he sped and along a submarine hallway, emerging upon a broad ramp. +He scurried up the incline and into an elevator which lifted him to the +top of the hexagon, directly into the office of the Secretary of +Commerce of all Nevia. + +"Welcome, Captain Nerado!" The Secretary waved a tentacular arm and the +visitor sprang lightly upon a softly cushioned bench, where he lay at +ease, facing the official across his low, flat "desk." "We congratulate +you upon the success of your final trial flight. We received all your +reports, even while you were traveling at ten times the velocity of +light. With the last difficulties overcome, you are now ready to start?" + +"We are ready," the captain-scientist replied, soberly. "Mechanically, +the ship is as nearly perfect as our finest minds can make her. She is +stocked for two years. All the iron-bearing suns within reach have been +plotted. Everything is ready except the iron. Of course the Council +refused to allow us any of the national supply--how much were you able +to purchase for us in the market?" + +"Nearly ten pounds...." + +"Ten pounds! Why, the securities we left with you could not have bought +two pounds, even at the price then prevailing!" + +"No, but you have friends. Many of us believe in you, and have dipped +into our own resources. You and your fellow scientists of the expedition +have each contributed his entire personal fortune; why should not some +of the rest of us also contribute, as private citizens?" + +"Wonderful--we thank you. Ten pounds!" The captain's great triangular +eyes glowed with an intense violet light. "At least a year of cruising. +But ... what if, after all, we should be wrong?" + +"In that case you shall have consumed ten pounds of irreplaceable +metal." The Secretary was unmoved. "That is the viewpoint of the Council +and of almost everyone else. It is not the waste of treasure they object +to; it is the fact that ten pounds of iron will be forever lost." + +"A high price, truly," the Columbus of Nevia assented. "And after all, I +may be wrong." + +"You probably are wrong," his host made startling answer. "It is +practically certain--it is almost a demonstrable mathematical fact--that +no other sun within hundreds of thousands of light-years of our own has +a planet. In all probability Nevia is the only planet in the entire +Universe. We are very probably the only intelligent life in the +Universe. There is only one chance in numberless millions that anywhere +within the cruising range of your newly perfected space-ship there may +be an iron-bearing planet upon which you can effect a landing. There is +a larger chance, however, that you may be able to find a small, cold, +iron-bearing cosmic body--small enough so that you can capture it. +Although there are no mathematics by which to evaluate the probability +of such an occurrence, it is upon that larger chance that some of us are +staking a portion of our wealth. We expect no return whatever, but if +you _should_ by some miracle happen to succeed, what then? Deep seas +being made shallow, civilization extending itself over the globe, +science advancing by leaps and bounds, Nevia becoming populated as she +should be peopled--that, my friend, is a chance well worth taking!" + +The Secretary called in a group of guards, who escorted the small +package of priceless metal to the space-ship. Before the massive door +was sealed the friends bade each other farewell. + +"... I will keep in touch with you on the ultra-wave," the Captain +concluded. "After all, I do not blame the Council for refusing to allow +the other ship to go out. Ten pounds of iron will be a fearful loss to +the world. If we _should_ find iron, however, see to it that she loses +no time in following us." + +"No fear of that! If you find iron she will set out at once, and all +space will soon be full of vessels. Goodbye." + +The last opening was sealed and Nerado shot the great vessel into the +air. Up and up, out beyond the last tenuous trace of atmosphere, on and +on through space it flew with ever-increasing velocity until Nevia's +gigantic blue sun had been left so far behind that it became a splendid +blue-white star. Then, projectors cut off to save the precious iron +whose disintegration furnished them power, for week after week Captain +Nerado and his venturesome crew of scientists drifted idly through the +illimitable void. + +There is no need to describe in detail Nerado's tremendous voyage. +Suffice it to say that he found a G-type dwarf star possessing +planets--not one planet only, but six ... seven ... eight ... yes, at +least nine! And most of those worlds were themselves centers of +attraction around which were circling one or more worldlets! Nerado +thrilled with joy as he applied a full retarding force, and every +creature aboard that great vessel had to peer into a plate or through a +telescope before he could believe that planets other than Nevia did in +reality exist! + +Velocity checked to the merest crawl, as space-speeds go, and with +electro-magnetic detector screens full out, the Nevian vessel crept +toward our sun. Finally the detectors encountered an obstacle, a +conductive substance which the patterns showed conclusively to be +practically pure iron. Iron--an enormous mass of it--floating alone out +in space! Without waiting to investigate the nature, appearance, or +structure of the precious mass, Nerado ordered power into the converters +and drove an enormous softening field of force upon the object--a force +of such a nature that it would condense the metallic iron into an +allotropic modification of much smaller bulk; a red, viscous, extremely +dense and heavy liquid which could be stored conveniently in his tanks. + +No sooner had the precious fluid been stored away than the detectors +again broke into an uproar. In one direction was an enormous mass of +iron, scarcely detectable; in another a great number of smaller masses; +in a third an isolated mass, comparatively small in size. Space seemed +to be full of iron, and Nerado drove his most powerful beam toward +distant Nevia and sent an exultant message. + +"We have found iron--easily obtained and in unthinkable quantity--not in +fractions of milligrams, but in millions upon unmeasured millions of +tons! Send our sister ship here at once!" + +"Nerado!" The captain was called to one of the observation plates as +soon as he had opened his key. "I have been investigating the mass of +iron now nearest us, the small one. It is an artificial structure, a +small space-boat, and there are three creatures in it--monstrosities +certainly, but they must possess some intelligence or they could not be +navigating space." + +"What? Impossible!" exclaimed the chief explorer. "Probably, then, the +other was--but no matter, we had to have the iron. Bring the boat in +without converting it, so that we may study at our leisure both the +beings and their mechanisms," and Nerado swung his own visiray beam into +the emergency boat, seeing there the armored figures of Clio Marsden and +the two Triplanetary officers. + +"They are indeed intelligent," Nerado commented, as he detected and +silenced Costigan's ultra-beam communicator. "Not, however, as +intelligent as I had supposed," he went on, after studying the peculiar +creatures and their tiny space-ship more in detail. "They have immense +stores of iron, yet use it for nothing other than building material. +They make little and inefficient use of atomic energy. They apparently +have a rudimentary knowledge of ultra-waves, but do not use them +intelligently--they cannot neutralize even these ordinary forces we are +now employing. They are of course more intelligent than the lower +ganoids, or even than some of the higher fishes, but by no stretch of +the imagination can they be compared to us. I am quite relieved--I was +afraid that in my haste I might have slain members of a highly developed +race." + +The helpless boat, all her forces neutralized, was brought up close to +the immense flying fish. There flaming knives of force sliced her neatly +into sections and the three rigid armored figures, after being bereft of +their external weapons, were brought through the airlocks and into the +control room, while the pieces of their boat were stored away for future +study. The Nevian scientists first analyzed the air inside the +space-suits of the Terrestrials, then carefully removed the protective +coverings of the captives. + +Costigan--fully conscious through it all and now able to move a little, +since the peculiar temporary paralysis was wearing off--braced himself +for he knew not what shock, but it was needless; their grotesque captors +were not torturers. The air, while somewhat more dense than Earth's and +of a peculiar odor, was eminently breathable, and even though the vessel +was motionless in space an almost-normal gravitation gave them a large +fraction of their usual weight. + +After the three had been relieved of their pistols and other articles +which the Nevians thought might prove to be weapons, the strange +paralysis was lifted entirely. The Earthly clothing puzzled the captors +immensely, but so strenuous were the objections raised to its removal +that they did not press the point, but fell back to study their find in +detail. + +Then faced each other the representatives of the civilizations of two +widely separated solar systems. The Nevians studied the human beings +with interest and curiosity blended largely with loathing and repulsion; +the three Terrestrials regarded the unmoving, expressionless "faces"--if +those coned heads could be said to possess such thing--with horror and +disgust, as well as with other emotions, each according to his type and +training. For to human eyes the Nevian is a fearful thing. Even today +there are few Terrestrials--or Solarians, for that matter--who can look +at a Nevian, eye to eye, without feeling a creeping of the skin and +experiencing a "gone" sensation in the pit of the stomach. The horny, +wrinkled, drought-resisting Martian, whom we all know and rather like, +is a hideous being indeed. The bat-eyed, colorless, hairless, +practically skinless Venerian is worse. But they both are, after all, +remote cousins of Terra's humanity, and we get along with them quite +well whenever we are compelled to visit Mars or Venus. But the Nevians-- + +The horizontal, flat, fish-like body is not so bad, even supported as it +is by four short, powerful, scaly, flat-footed legs; and terminating as +it does in the weird, four-vaned tail. The neck, even, is endurable, +although it is long and flexible, heavily scaled, and is carried in +whatever eye-wringing loops or curves the owner considers most +convenient or ornamental at the time. Even the smell of a Nevian--a +malodorous reek of over-ripe fish--does in time become tolerable, +especially if sufficiently disguised with creosote, which purely +Terrestrial chemical is the most highly prized perfume of Nevia. But the +head! It is that member that makes the Nevian so appalling to Earthly +eyes, for it is a thing utterly foreign to all Solarian history or +experience. As most Tellurians already know, it is fundamentally a +massive cone, covered with scales, based spearhead-like upon the neck. +Four great sea-green, triangular eyes are spaced equidistant from each +other about half way up the cone. The pupils are contractile at will, +like the eyes of the cat, permitting the Nevian to see equally well in +any ordinary extreme of light or darkness. Immediately below each eye +springs out a long, jointless, boneless, tentacular arm; an arm which at +its extremity divides into eight delicate and sensitive, but very +strong, "fingers." Below each arm is a mouth: a beaked, needle-tusked +orifice of dire potentialities. Finally, under the overhanging edge of +the cone-shaped head are the delicately-frilled organs which serve +either as gills or as nostrils and lungs, as may be desired. To other +Nevians the eyes and other features are highly expressive, but to us +they appear utterly cold and unmoving. Terrestrial senses can detect no +changes of expression in a Nevian's "face." Such were the frightful +beings at whom the three prisoners stared with sinking hearts. + +But if we human beings have always considered Nevians grotesque and +repulsive, the feeling has always been mutual. For those "monstrous" +beings are a highly intelligent and extremely sensitive race, and +our--to us--trim and graceful human forms seem to them the very +quintessence of malformation and hideousness. + +"Good Heavens, Conway!" Clio exclaimed, shrinking against Costigan as +his left arm flashed around her. "What horrible monstrosities! And they +can't talk--not one of them has made a sound--suppose they can be deaf +and dumb?" + +But at the same time Nerado was addressing his fellows. + +"What hideous, deformed creatures they are! Truly a low form of life, +even though they do possess some intelligence. They cannot talk, and +have made no signs of having heard our words to them--do you suppose +that they communicate by sight? That those weird contortions of their +peculiarly placed organs serve as speech?" + +Thus both sides, neither realizing that the other had spoken. For the +Nevian voice is pitched so high that the lowest note audible to them is +far above our limit of hearing. The shrillest note of a Terrestrial +piccolo is to them so profoundly low that it cannot be heard. + +"We have much to do." Nerado turned away from the captives. "We must +postpone further study of the specimens until we have taken aboard a +full cargo of the iron which is so plentiful here." + +"What shall we do with them, sir?" asked one of the Nevian officers. +"Lock them in one of the storage rooms?" + +"Oh, no! They might die there, and we must by all means keep them in +good condition, to be studied most carefully by the fellows of the +College of Science. What a commotion there will be when we bring in this +group of strange creatures, living proof that there are other suns +possessing planets; planets which are supporting organic and intelligent +life! You may put them in three communicating rooms, say in the fourth +section--they will undoubtedly require light and exercise. Lock all the +exits, of course, but it would be best to leave the doors between the +rooms unlocked, so that they can be together or apart, as they choose. +Since the smallest one, the female, stays so close to the larger male, +it may be that they are mates. But since we know nothing of their habits +or customs, it will be best to give them all possible freedom compatible +with safety." + +Nerado turned back to his instruments and three of the frightful crew +came up to the human beings. One walked away, waving a couple of arms in +an unmistakable signal that the prisoners were to follow him. The three +obediently set out after him, the other two guards falling behind. + +"Now's our best chance!" Costigan muttered, as they passed through a low +doorway and entered a narrow corridor. "Watch that one ahead of you, +Clio--hold him for a second if you can. Bradley, you and I will take the +two behind us--now!" + +Costigan stooped and whirled. Seizing a cable-like arm, he pulled the +outlandish head down, the while the full power of his mighty right leg +drove a heavy service boot into the place where scaly neck and head +joined. The Nevian fell, and instantly Costigan leaped at the leader, +ahead of the girl. Leaped; but dropped to the floor, again paralyzed. +For the Nevian leader had been alert, his four eyes covering the entire +circle of vision, and he had acted rapidly. Not in time to stop +Costigan's first berserk attack--the First Officer's reactions were +practically instantaneous and he moved fast--but in time to retain +command of the situation. Another Nevian appeared, and while the +stricken guard was recovering, all four arms wrapped tightly around his +convulsively looping, writhing neck, the three helpless Terrestrials +were lifted into the air and carried bodily into the quarters to which +Nerado had assigned them. Not until they had been placed upon cushions +in the middle room and the heavy metal doors had been locked upon them +did they again find themselves able to use arms or legs. + +"Well, that's another round we lose," Costigan commented, cheerfully. "A +guy can't mix it very well when he can neither kick, strike, nor bite. I +expected those lizards to rough me up then, but they didn't." + +"They don't want to hurt us. They want to take us home with them, +wherever that is, as curiosities, like wild animals or something," +decided the girl, shrewdly. "They're pretty bad, of course, but I like +them a lot better than I do Roger and his robots, anyway." + +"I think you have the right idea, Miss Marsden," Bradley rumbled. +"That's it, exactly. I feel like a bear in a cage. I should think you'd +feel worse than ever. What chance has an animal of escaping from a +menagerie?" + +"These animals, lots. I'm feeling better and better all the time," Clio +declared, and her serene bearing bore out her words. "You two got us out +of that horrible place of Roger's, and I'm pretty sure that you will get +us away from here, somehow or other. They may think we're stupid +animals, but before you two and the Triplanetary Patrol and the Service +get done with them they'll have another think coming." + +"That's the old fight, Clio!" cheered Costigan. "I haven't got it +figured out as close as you have, but I get about the same answer. These +four-legged fish carry considerably heavier stuff than Roger did, I'm +thinking; but they'll be up against something themselves pretty quick +that is _no_ light-weight, believe me!" + +"Do you know something, or are you just whistling in the dark?" Bradley +demanded. + +"I know a little; not much. Engineering and Research have been working +on a new ship for a long time; a ship to travel so much faster than +light that it can go anywhere in the Galaxy and back in a month or so. +New sub-ether drive, new atomic power, new armament, new everything. +Only bad thing about it is that it doesn't work so good yet--it's fuller +of bugs than a Venerian's kitchen. It has blown up five times that I +know of, and has killed twenty-nine men. But when they get it licked +they'll _have something_!" + +"When, or if?" asked Bradley, pessimistically. + +"I said _when_!" snapped Costigan, his voice cutting. "When the Service +goes after anything they get it, and when they get it it _stays_...." He +broke off abruptly and his voice lost its edge. "Sorry. Didn't mean to +get high, but I think we'll have help, if we can keep our heads up a +while. And it looks good--these are first-class cages they've given us. +All the comforts of home, even to lookout plates. Let's see what's going +on, shall we?" + +After some experimenting with the unfamiliar controls Costigan learned +how to operate the Nevian visiray, and upon the plate they saw the Cone +of Battle hurling itself toward Roger's planetoid. They saw the pirate +fleet rush out to do battle with Triplanetary's massed forces, and with +bated breath they watched every maneuver of that epic battle to its +savagely sacrificial end. And that same battle was being watched, also +with the most intense interest, by the Nevians in their control room. + +"It is indeed a bloodthirsty combat," mused Nerado at his observation +plate. "And it is peculiar--or rather, probably only to be expected from +a race of such a low stage of development--that they employ only +ether-borne forces. Warfare seems universal among primitive +types--indeed, it is not so long ago that our own cities, few in number +though they are, ceased fighting each other and combined against the +semicivilized fishes of the greater deeps." + +He fell silent, and for many minutes watched the furious battle between +the two navies of the void. That conflict ended, he watched the +Triplanetary fleet reform its battle cone and rush upon the planetoid. + +"Destruction, always destruction," he sighed, adjusting his power +switches. "Since they are bent upon mutual destruction I can see no +purpose in refraining from destroying all of them. We need the iron, and +they are a useless race." + +He launched his softening, converting field of dull red energy. Vast as +that field was, it could not encompass the whole fleet, but half of the +lip of the gigantic cone soon disappeared, its component vessels +subsiding into a sluggishly flowing stream of allotropic iron. The +fleet, abandoning its attack upon the planetoid, swung its cone around, +to bring the flame-erupting axis to bear upon the formless something +dimly perceptible to the ultra-vision of Samms' observers. Furiously the +gigantic composite beam of the massed fleet was hurled, nor was it +alone. + +For Gharlane had known, ever since the easy escape of his human +prisoners, that something was occurring which was completely beyond his +experience, although not beyond his theoretical knowledge. He had found +the sub-ether closed; he had been unable to make his sub-ethereal +weapons operative against either the three captives or the war-vessels +of the Triplanetary Patrol. Now, however, he could work in the +sub-ethereal murk of the newcomers; a light trial showed him that if he +so wished he could use sub-ethereal offenses against them. What was the +real meaning of those facts? + +He had become convinced that those three persons were no more human than +was Roger himself. Who or what was activating them? It was definitely +not Eddorian workmanship; no Eddorian would have developed those +particular techniques, nor could possibly have developed them without +his knowledge. What, then? To do what had been done necessitated the +existence of a race as old and as capable as the Eddorians, but of an +entirely different nature; and, according to Eddore's vast Information +Center, no such race existed or ever had existed. + +Those visitors, possessing mechanisms supposedly known only to the +science of Eddore, would also be expected to possess the mental powers +which had been exhibited. Were they recent arrivals from some other +space-time continuum? Probably not--Eddorian surveys had found no trace +of any such life in any reachable plenum. Since it would be utterly +fantastic to postulate the unheralded appearance of two such races at +practically the same moment, the conclusion seemed unavoidable that +these as yet unknown beings were the protectors--the activators, +rather--of the two Triplanetary officers and the woman. This view was +supported by the fact that while the strangers had attacked +Triplanetary's fleet and had killed thousands of Triplanetary's men, +they had actually rescued those three supposedly human beings. The +planetoid, then would be attacked next. Very well, he would join +Triplanetary in attacking them--with weapons no more dangerous to them +than Triplanetary's own--the while preparing his real attack, which +would come later. Roger issued orders; and waited; and thought more and +more intensely upon one point which remained obscure--why, when the +strangers themselves destroyed Triplanetary's fleet, had Roger been +unable to use his most potent weapons against that fleet? + +Thus, then, for the first time in Triplanetary's history, the forces of +law and order joined hands with those of piracy and banditry against a +common foe. Rods, beams, planes, and stilettos of unbearable energy the +doomed fleet launched, in addition to its terrifically destructive main +beam: Roger hurled every material weapon at his command. But bombs, +high-explosive shells, even the ultra-deadly atomic torpedoes, alike +were ineffective; alike simply vanished in the redly murky veil of +nothingness. And the fleet was being melted. In quick succession the +vessels flamed red, shrank together, gave out their air, and merged +their component iron into the intensely crimson, sullenly viscous stream +which was flowing through the impenetrable veil against which both +Triplanetarians and pirates were directing their terrific offense. + +The last vessel of the attacking cone having been converted and the +resulting metal stored away, the Nevians--as Roger had anticipated--turned +their attention toward the planetoid. But that structure was no feeble +warship. It had been designed by, and built under the personal supervision +of, Gharlane of Eddore. It was powered, equipped, and armed to meet any +emergency which Gharlane's tremendous mind had been able to envision. +Its entire bulk was protected by the shield whose qualities had so +surprised Costigan; a shield far more effective than any Tellurian +scientist or engineer would have believed possible. + +The voracious converting beam of the Nevians, below the level of the +ether though it was, struck that shield and rebounded; defeated and +futile. Struck again, again rebounded; then struck and clung hungrily, +licking out over that impermeable surface in darting tongues of flame as +the surprised Nerado doubled and then quadrupled his power. Fiercer and +fiercer the Nevian flood of force drove in. The whole immense globe of +the planetoid became one scintillant ball of raw, red energy; but still +the pirates' shield remained intact. + +Gray Roger sat coldly motionless at his great desk, the top of which was +now swung up to become a panel of massed and tiered instruments and +controls. He could carry this load forever--but unless he was very +wrong, this load would change shortly. What then? The essence that was +Gharlane could not be killed--could not even be hurt--by any physical, +chemical, or nuclear force. Should he stay with the planetoid to its +end, and thus perforce return to Eddore with no material evidence +whatever? He would not. Too much remained undone. Any report based upon +his present information could be neither complete nor conclusive, and +reports submitted by Gharlane of Eddore to the coldly cynical and +ruthlessly analytical innermost Circle had always been and always would +be both. + +It was a fact that there existed at least one non-Eddorian mind which +was the equal of his own. If one, there would be a race of such minds. +The thought was galling; but to deny the existence of a fact would be +the essence of stupidity. Since power of mind was a function of time, +that race must be of approximately the same age as his own. Therefore +the Eddorian Information Center, which by the inference of its +completeness denied the existence of such a race, was wrong. It was not +complete. + +Why was it not complete? The only possible reason for two such races +remaining unaware of the existence of each other would be the deliberate +intent of one of them. Therefore, at some time in the past, the two +races had been in contact for at least an instant of time. All Eddorian +knowledge of that meeting had been suppressed and no more contacts had +been allowed to occur. + +The conclusion reached by Gharlane was a disturbing thing indeed; but, +being an Eddorian, he faced it squarely. He did not have to wonder how +such a suppression could have been accomplished--he knew. He also knew +that his own mind contained everything known to his every ancestor since +the first Eddorian was: the probability was exceedingly great that if +any such contact had ever been made his mind would still contain at +least some information concerning it, however carefully suppressed that +knowledge had been. + +He thought. Back ... back ... farther back ... farther still.... + +And as he thought, an interfering force began to pluck at him; as though +palpable tongs were pulling out of line the mental probe with which he +was exploring the hitherto unplumbed recesses of his mind. + +"Ah ... so you do not want me to remember?" Roger asked aloud, with no +change in any lineament of his hard, gray face. "I wonder ... do you +really believe that you can keep me from remembering? I must abandon +this search for the moment, but rest assured that I shall finish it very +shortly." + + * * * * * + +"Here is the analysis of his screen, sir." A Nevian computer handed his +chief a sheet of metal, bearing rows of symbols. + +"Ah, a polycyclic ... complete coverage ... a screen of that type was +scarcely to have been expected from such a low form of life," Nerado +commented, and began to adjust dials and controls. + +As he did so the character of the clinging mantle of force changed. From +red it flamed quickly through the spectrum, became unbearably violet, +then disappeared; and as it disappeared the shielding wall began to give +way. It did not cave in abruptly, but softened locally, sagging into a +peculiar grouping of valleys and ridges--contesting stubbornly every +inch of position lost. + +Roger experimented briefly with inertialessness. No use. As he had +expected, they were prepared for that. He summoned a few of the ablest +of his scientist-slaves and issued instructions. For minutes a host of +robots toiled mightily, then a portion of the shield bulged out and +became a tube extending beyond the attacking layers of force; a tube +from which there erupted a beam of violence incredible. A beam behind +which was every erg of energy that the gigantic mechanisms of the +planetoid could yield. A beam that tore a hole through the redly +impenetrable Nevian field and hurled itself upon the inner screen of the +fish-shaped cruiser in frenzied incandescence. And was there, or was +there not, a lesser eruption upon the other side--an almost +imperceptible flash, as though something had shot from the doomed +planetoid out into space? + +Nerado's neck writhed convulsively as his tortured drivers whined and +shrieked at the terrific overload; but Roger's effort was far too +intense to be long maintained. Generator after generator burned out, the +defensive screen collapsed, and the red converter beam attacked +voraciously the unresisting metal of those prodigious walls. Soon there +was a terrific explosion as the pent-up air of the planetoid broke +through its weakening container, and the sluggish river of allotropic +iron flowed in an ever larger stream, ever faster. + +"It is well that we had an unlimited supply of iron." Nerado almost tied +a knot in his neck as he spoke in huge relief. "With but the seven +pounds remaining of our original supply, I fear that it would have been +difficult to parry that last thrust." + +"Difficult?" asked the second in command. "We would now be free atoms in +space. But what shall I do with this iron? Our reservoirs will not hold +more than half of it. And how about that one ship which remains +untouched?" + +"Jettison enough supplies from the lower holds to make room for this +lot. As for that one ship, let it go. We will be overloaded as it is, +and it is of the utmost importance that we get back to Nevia as soon as +possible." + +This, if Gharlane could have heard it, would have answered his question. +All Arisia knew that it was _necessary_ for the camera-ship to survive. +The Nevians were interested only in iron; but the Eddorian, being a +perfectionist, would not have been satisfied with anything less than the +complete destruction of every vessel of Triplanetary's fleet. + +The Nevian space-ship moved away, sluggishly now because of its +prodigious load. In their quarters in the fourth section the three +Terrestrials, who had watched with strained attention the downfall and +absorption of the planetoid, stared at each other with drawn faces. Clio +broke the silence. + +"Oh, Conway, this is ghastly! It's ... it's just simply too damned +perfectly horrible!" she gasped, then recovered a measure of her +customary spirit as she stared in surprise at Costigan's face. For it +was thoughtful, his eyes were bright and keen--no trace of fear or +disorganization was visible in any line of his hard young face. + +"It's not so good," he admitted frankly. "I wish I wasn't such a dumb +cluck--if Lyman Cleveland or Fred Rodebush were here they could help a +lot, but I don't know enough about any of their stuff to flag a +hand-car. I can't even interpret that funny flash--if it really was a +flash--that we saw." + +"Why bother about one little flash, after all that really did happen?" +asked Clio, curiously. + +"You think Roger launched something? He couldn't have--I didn't see a +thing," Bradley argued. + +"I don't know what to think. I've never seen anything material sent out +so fast that I couldn't trace it with an ultra-wave--but on the other +hand, Roger's got a lot of stuff that I never saw anywhere else. +However, I don't see that it has anything to do with the fix we're in +right now--but at that, we might be worse off. We're still breathing +air, you notice, and if they don't blanket my wave I can still talk." + +He put both hands into his pockets and spoke. + +"Samms? Costigan. Put me on a recorder, quick--I probably haven't got +much time," and for ten minutes he talked, concisely and as rapidly as +he could utter words, reporting clearly and exactly everything that had +transpired. Suddenly he broke off, writhing in agony. Frantically he +tore his shirt open and hurled a tiny object across the room. + +"Wow!" he exclaimed. "They may be deaf, but they can certainly detect an +ultra-wave, and what an interference they can set up on it! No, I'm not +hurt," he reassured the anxious girl, now at his side, "but it's a good +thing I had you out of circuit--it would have jolted you loose from six +or seven of your back teeth." + +"Have you any idea where they're taking us?" she asked soberly. + +"No," he answered flatly, looking deep into her steadfast eyes. "No use +lying to you--if I know you at all you'd rather take it standing up. +That talk of Jovians or Neptunians is the bunk--nothing like that ever +grew in our Solarian system. All the signs say that we're going for a +long ride." + + + + +CHAPTER 11 + +NEVIAN STRIFE + + +The Nevian space-ship was hurtling upon its way. Space-navigators both, +the two Terrestrial officers soon discovered that it was even then +moving with a velocity far above that of light and that it must be +accelerating at a high rate, even though to them it seemed +stationary--they could feel only a gravitational force somewhat less +than that of their native Earth. + +Bradley, seasoned old campaigner that he was, had retired promptly as +soon as he had completed a series of observations, and was sleeping +soundly upon a pile of cushions in the first of the three +inter-connecting rooms. In the middle room, which was to be Clio's, +Costigan was standing very close to the girl, but was not touching her. +His body was rigid, his face was tense and drawn. + +"You are wrong, Conway; all wrong," Clio was saying, very seriously. "I +know how you feel, but it's false chivalry." + +"That isn't it, at all," he insisted, stubbornly. "It isn't only that +I've got you out here in space, in danger and alone, that's stopping me. +I know you and I know myself well enough to know that what we start now +we'll go through with for life. It doesn't make any difference, that +way, whether I start making love to you now or whether I wait until +we're back on Tellus; but I'm telling you that for your own good you'd +better pass me up entirely. I've got enough horsepower to keep away from +you if you tell me to--not otherwise." + +"I know it, both ways, dear, but...." + +"But nothing!" he interrupted. "Can't you get it into your skull what +you'll be letting yourself in for if you marry me? Assume that we get +back, which isn't sure, by any means. But even if we do, some day--and +maybe soon, too, you can't tell--somebody is going to collect fifty +grams of radium for my head." + +"Fifty grams--and everybody knows that Samms himself is rated at only +sixty? I _knew_ that you were somebody, Conway!" Clio exclaimed, +undeterred. "But at that, something tells me that any pirate will earn +even that much reward several times over before he collects it. Don't be +silly, my dear--goodnight." + +She tipped her head back, holding up to him her red, sweetly curved, +smiling lips, and his arms swept around her. Her arms went up around his +neck and they stood, clasped together in the motionless ecstasy of +love's first embrace. + +"Girl, girl, how I love you!" Costigan's voice was husky, his usually +hard eyes were glowing with a tender light. "That settles that. I'll +really _live_ now, anyway, while...." + +"Stop it!" she commanded, sharply. "You're going to live until you die +of old age--see if you don't. You'll simply _have_ to, Conway!" + +"That's so, too--no percentage in dying now. All the pirates between +Tellus and Andromeda couldn't take me after this--I've got too much to +live for. Well, goodnight, sweetheart, I'd better beat it--you need some +sleep." + +The lovers' parting was not as simple and straightforward a procedure as +Costigan's speech would indicate, but finally he did seek his own room +and relaxed upon a pile of cushions, his stern visage transformed. +Instead of the low metal ceiling he saw a beautiful, oval, tanned young +face, framed in a golden-blonde corona of hair. His gaze sank into the +depths of loyal, honest, dark blue eyes; and looking deeper and deeper +into those blue wells he fell asleep. Upon his face, too set and grim by +far for a man of his years--the lives of Sector Chiefs of the +Triplanetary Service were not easy, nor as a rule were they long--there +lingered as he slept that newly-acquired softness of expression, the +reflection of his transcendent happiness. + +For eight hours he slept soundly, as was his wont, then, also according +to his habit and training he came wide awake, with no intermediate stage +of napping. + +"Clio?" he whispered. "Awake, girl?" + +"Awake!" her voice come through the ultra phone, relief in every +syllable. "Good heavens, I thought you were going to sleep until we got +to wherever it is that we're going! Come on in, you two--I don't see how +you can possibly sleep, just as though you were home in bed." + +"You've got to learn to sleep anywhere if you expect to keep in...." +Costigan broke off as he opened the door and saw Clio's wan face. She +had evidently spent a sleepless and wracking eight hours. "Good Lord, +Clio, why didn't you call me?" + +"Oh, I'm all right, except for being a little jittery. No need of asking +how _you_ feel, is there?" + +"No--I feel hungry," he answered cheerfully. "I'm going to see what we +can do about it--or say, guess I'll see whether they're still +interfering on Samms' wave." + +He took out the small, insulated case and touched the contact stud +lightly with his finger. His arm jerked away powerfully. + +"Still at it," he gave the unnecessary explanation. "They don't seem to +want us to talk outside, but his interference is as good as my +talking--they can trace it, of course. Now I'll see what I can find out +about our breakfast." + +He stepped over to the plate and shot its projector beam forward into +the control room, where he saw Nerado lying, doglike, at his instrument +panel. As Costigan's beam entered the room a blue light flashed on and +the Nevian turned an eye and an arm toward his own small observation +plate. Knowing that they were now in visual communication, Costigan +beckoned an invitation and pointed to his mouth in what he hoped was the +universal sign of hunger. The Nevian waved an arm and fingered controls, +and as he did so a wide section of the floor of Clio's room slid aside. +The opening thus made revealed a table which rose upon its low pedestal, +a table equipped with three softly-cushioned benches and spread with a +glittering array of silver and glassware. + +Bowls and platters of a dazzlingly white metal, narrow-waisted goblets +of sheerest crystal; all were hexagonal, beautifully and intricately +carved or etched in apparently conventional marine designs. And the +table utensils of this strange race were peculiar indeed. There were +tearing forceps of sixteen needle-sharp curved teeth; there were +flexible spatulas; there were deep and shallow ladles with flexible +edges; there were many other peculiarly-curved instruments at whose uses +the Terrestrials could not even guess; all having delicately-fashioned +handles to fit the long slender fingers of the Nevians. + +But if the table and its appointments were surprising to the +Terrestrials, revealing as they did a degree of culture which none of +them had expected to find in a race of beings so monstrous, the food was +even more surprising, although in another sense. For the wonderful +crystal goblets were filled with a grayish-green slime of a nauseous and +over-powering odor, the smaller bowls were full of living sea spiders +and other such delicacies; and each large platter contained a fish fully +a foot long, raw and whole, garnished tastefully with red, purple, and +green strands of seaweed! + +Clio looked once, then gasped, shutting her eyes and turning away from +the table, but Costigan flipped the three fish into a platter and set it +aside before he turned back to the visiplate. + +"They'll go good fried," he remarked to Bradley, signaling vigorously to +Nerado that the meal was not acceptable and that he wanted to talk to +him, _in person_. Finally he made himself clear, the table sank down out +of sight, and the Nevian commander cautiously entered the room. + +At Costigan's insistence, he came up to the visiplate, leaving near the +door three alert and fully-armed guards. The man then shot the beam into +the galley of the pirate's lifeboat, suggesting that they should be +allowed to live there. For some time the argument of arms and fingers +raged--though not exactly fluent conversation, both sides managed to +convey their meanings quite clearly. Nerado would not allow the +Terrestrials to visit their own ship--he was taking no chances--but +after a thorough ultra-ray inspection he did finally order some of his +men to bring into the middle room the electric range and a supply of +Terrestrial food. Soon the Nevian fish were sizzling in a pan and the +appetizing odors of coffee and browning biscuit permeated the room. But +at the first appearance of those odors the Nevians departed hastily, +content to watch the remainder of the curious and repulsive procedure in +their visiray plates. + +Breakfast over and everything made tidy and ship-shape, Costigan turned +to Clio. + +"Look here, girl; you've got to learn how to sleep. You're all in. Your +eyes look like you've been on a Martian picnic and you didn't eat half +enough breakfast. You've got to sleep and eat to keep fit. We don't +want you passing out on us, so I'll put out this light, and you'll lie +down here and sleep until noon." + +"Oh, no, don't bother. I'll sleep tonight. I'm quite...." + +"You'll sleep now," he informed her, levelly. "I never thought of you +being nervous, with Bradley and me on each side of you. We're both right +here now, though, and we'll stay here. We'll watch over you like a +couple of old hens with one chick between them. Come on; lie down and go +bye-bye." + +Clio laughed at the simile, but lay down obediently. Costigan sat upon +the edge of the great divan holding her hand, and they chatted idly. The +silences grew longer, Clio's remarks became fewer, and soon her +long-lashed eyelids fell and her deep, regular breathing showed that she +was sound asleep. The man stared at her, his very heart in his eyes. So +young, so beautiful, so lovely--and _how_ he did love her! He was not +formally religious, but his every thought was a prayer. If he could only +get her out of this mess ... he wasn't fit to live on the same planet +with her, but ... just give him one chance, God ... just one! + +But Costigan had been laboring for days under a terrific strain, and had +been going very short on sleep. Half hypnotized by his own mixed +emotions and by his staring at the smooth curves of Clio's cheek, his +own eyes closed and, still holding her hand, he sank down into the soft +cushions beside her and into oblivion. + +Thus sleeping hand in hand like two children Bradley found them, and a +tender, fatherly expression came over his face as he looked down at +them. + +"Nice little girl, Clio," he mused, "and when they made Costigan they +broke the mold. They'll do--about as fine a couple of kids as old Tellus +ever produced. I could do with some more sleep myself." He yawned +prodigiously, lay down at Clio's left, and in minutes was himself +asleep. + +Hours later, both men were awakened by a merry peal of laughter. Clio +was sitting up, regarding them with sparkling eyes. She was refreshed, +buoyant, ravenously hungry and highly amused. Costigan was amazed and +annoyed at what he considered a failure in a self-appointed task; +Bradley was calm and matter-of-fact. + +"Thanks for being such a nice body-guard, you two." Clio laughed again, +but sobered quickly. "I slept wonderfully well, but I wonder if I can +sleep tonight without making you hold my hand all night?" + +"Oh, he doesn't mind doing that," Bradley commented. + +"Mind it!" Costigan exclaimed, and his eyes and his tone spoke volumes. + +They prepared and ate another meal, one to which Clio did full justice. +Rested and refreshed, they had begun to discuss possibilities of escape +when Nerado and his three armed guards entered the room. The Nevian +scientist placed a box upon a table and began to make adjustments upon +its panels, eyeing the Terrestrials attentively after each setting. +After a time a staccato burst of articulate speech issued from the box, +and Costigan saw a great light. + +"You've got it--hold it!" he exclaimed, waving his arms excitedly. "You +see, Clio, their voices are pitched either higher or lower than +ours--probably higher--and they've built an audio-frequency changer. +He's nobody's fool, that lizard!" + +Nerado heard Costigan's voice, there was no doubt of that. His long neck +looped and twisted in Nevian gratification; and although neither side +could understand the other, both knew that intelligent speech and +hearing were attributes common to the two races. This fact altered +markedly the relations between captors and captives. The Nevians +admitted among themselves that the strange bipeds might be quite +intelligent, after all; and the Terrestrials at once became more +hopeful. + +"It isn't so bad, if they can talk," Costigan summed up the situation. +"We might as well take it easy and make the best of it, particularly +since we haven't been able to figure out any possible way of getting +away from them. They can talk and hear, and we can learn their language +in time. Maybe we can make some kind of a deal with them to take us back +to our own system, if we can't make a break." + +The Nevians being as eager as the Terrestrials to establish +communication, Nerado kept the newly devised frequency changer in +constant use. There is no need of describing at length the details of +that interchange of languages. Suffice it to say that starting at the +very bottom they learned as babies learn, but with the great advantage +over babies of possessing fully developed and capable brains. And while +the human beings were learning the tongue of Nevia, several of the +amphibians (and incidentally Clio Marsden) were learning Triplanetarian; +the two officers knowing well that it would be much easier for the +Nevians to learn the logically-built common language of the Three +Planets than to master the senseless intricacies of English. + +In a short time the two parties were able to understand each other after +a fashion, by using a weird mixture of both languages. As soon as a few +ideas had been exchanged, the Nevian scientists built transformers small +enough to be worn collar-like by the Terrestrials, and the captives were +allowed to roam at will throughout the great vessel; only the +compartment in which was stored the dismembered pirate lifeboat being +sealed to them. Thus it was that they were not left long in doubt when +another fish-shaped cruiser of the void was revealed upon their lookout +plates in the awful emptiness of interstellar space. + +"This is our sister-ship going to your Solarian system for a cargo of +the iron which is so plentiful there," Nerado explained to his +involuntary guests. + +"I hope the gang has got the bugs worked out of our super-ship!" +Costigan muttered savagely to his companions as Nerado turned away. "If +they have, that outfit will get something more than a load of iron when +they get there!" + +More time passed, during which a blue-white star separated itself from +the infinitely distant firmament and began to show a perceptible disk. +Larger and larger it grew, becoming bluer and bluer as the flying +space-ship approached it, until finally Nevia could be seen, apparently +close beside her parent orb. + +Heavily laden though the vessel was, such was her power that she was +soon dropping vertically downward toward a large lagoon in the middle of +the Nevian city. That bit of open water was devoid of life, for this was +to be no ordinary landing. Under the terrific power of the beams braking +the descent of that unimaginable load of allotropic iron the water +seethed and boiled; and instead of floating gracefully upon the surface +of the sea, this time the huge ship of space sank like a plummet to the +bottom. Having accomplished the delicate feat of docking the vessel +safely in the immense cradle prepared for her, Nerado turned to the +Tellurians, who, now under guard, had been brought before him. + +"While our cargo of iron is being discharged, I am to take you three +specimens to the College of Science, where you are to undergo a thorough +physical and psychological examination. Follow me." + +"Wait a minute!" protested Costigan, with a quick and furtive wink at +his companions. "Do you expect us to go through _water_, and at this +frightful depth?" + +"Certainly," replied the Nevian, in surprise. "You are air-breathers, of +course, but you must be able to swim a little, and this slight +depth--but little more than thirty of your meters--will not trouble +you." + +"You are wrong, twice," declared the Terrestrial, convincingly. "If by +'swimming' you mean propelling yourself in or through the water, we know +nothing of it. In water over our heads we drown helplessly in a minute +or two, and the pressure at this depth would kill us instantly." + +"Well, I could take a lifeboat, of course, but that ..." the Nevian +Captain began, doubtfully, but broke off at the sound of a staccato call +from his signal panel. + +"Captain Nerado, attention!" + +"Nerado," he acknowledged into a microphone. + +"The Third City is being attacked by the fishes of the greater deeps. +They have developed new and powerful mobile fortresses mounting +unheard-of weapons and the city reports that it cannot long withstand +their attack. They are asking for all possible help. Your vessel not +only has vast stores of iron, but also mounts weapons of power. You are +requested to proceed to their aid at the earliest possible moment." + +Nerado snapped out orders and the liquid iron fell in streams from +wide-open ports, forming a vast, red pool in the bottom of the dock. In +a short time the great vessel was in equilibrium with the water she +displaced, and as soon as she had attained a slight buoyancy the ports +snapped shut and Nerado threw on the power. + +"Go back to your own quarters and stay there until I send for you," the +Nevian directed, and as the Terrestrials obeyed the curt orders the +cruiser tore herself from the water and flashed up into the crimson sky. + +"What a barefaced liar!" Bradley exclaimed. The three, transformers cut +off, were back in the middle room of their suite. "You can outswim an +otter, and I happen to know that you came up out of the old DZ83 from a +depth of...." + +"Maybe I did exaggerate a trifle," Costigan interrupted, "but the more +helpless he thinks we are the better for us. And we want to stay out of +any of their cities as long as we can, because they may be hard places +to get out of. I've got a couple of ideas, but they aren't ripe enough +to pick yet.... Wow! How this bird's been traveling! We're there +already! If he hits the water going like this, he'll split himself, +sure!" + +With undiminished velocity they were flashing downward in a long slant +toward the beleaguered Third City, and from the flying vessel there was +launched toward the city's central lagoon a torpedo. No missile this, +but a capsule containing a full ton of allotropic iron, which would be +of more use to the Nevian defenders than millions of men. For the Third +City was sore pressed indeed. Around it was one unbroken ring of +boiling, exploding water--water billowing upward in searing, blinding +bursts of super-heated steam, or being hurled bodily in all directions +in solid masses by the cataclysmic forces being released by the +embattled fishes of the greater deeps. Her outer defenses were already +down, and even as the Terrestrials stared in amazement another of the +immense hexagonal buildings burst into fragments; its upper structure +flying wildly into scrap metal, its lower half subsiding drunkenly below +the surface of the boiling sea. + +The three Earth-people seized whatever supports were at hand as the +Nevian space-ship struck the water with undiminished speed, but the +precaution was needless--Nerado knew thoroughly his vessel, its strength +and its capabilities. There was a mighty splash, but that was all. The +artificial gravity was unchanged by the impact; to the passengers the +vessel was still motionless and on even keel as, now a submarine, she +snapped around like a very fish and attacked the rear of the nearest +fortress. + +For fortresses they were; vast structures of green metal, plowing +forward implacably upon immense caterpillar treads. And as they crawled +they destroyed, and Costigan, exploring the strange submarine with his +visiray beam, watched and marveled. For the fortresses were full of +water; water artificially cooled and aerated, entirely separate from the +boiling flood through which they moved. They were manned by fish some +five feet in length. Fish with huge, goggling eyes; fish plentifully +equipped with long, armlike tentacles; fish poised before control panels +or darting about intent upon their various duties. Fish with brains, +waging war! + +Nor was their warfare ineffectual. Their heat-rays boiled the water for +hundreds of yards before them and their torpedoes were exploding against +the Nevian defenses in one appallingly continuous concussion. But most +potent of all was a weapon unknown to Triplanetary warfare. From a +fortress there would shoot out, with the speed of a meteor, a long, +jointed, telescopic rod; tipped with a tiny, brilliantly-shining ball. +Whenever that glowing tip encountered any obstacle, that obstacle +disappeared in an explosion world-wracking in its intensity. Then what +was left of the rod, dark now, would be retracted into the fortress-only +to emerge again in a moment with a tip once more shining and potent. + +Nerado, apparently as unfamiliar with the peculiar weapon as were the +Terrestrials, attacked cautiously; sending out far to the fore his +murkily impenetrable screens of red. But the submarine was entirely +non-ferrous, and its officers were apparently quite familiar with Nevian +beams which licked at and clung to the green walls in impotent fury. +Through the red veil came stabbing ball after ball, and only the most +frantic dodging saved the space-ship from destruction in those first few +furious seconds. And now the Nevian defenders of the Third City had +secured and were employing the vast store of allotropic iron so +opportunely delivered by Nerado. + +From the city there pushed out immense nets of metal, extending from the +surface of the ocean to its bottom; nets radiating such terrific forces +that the very water itself was beaten back and stood motionless in +vertical, glassy walls. Torpedoes were futile against that wall of +energy. The most fiercely driven rays of the fishes flamed incandescent +against it, in vain. Even the incredible violence of a concentration of +every available force-ball against one point could not break through. At +that unimaginable explosion water was hurled for miles. The bed of the +ocean was not only exposed, but in it there was blown a crater at whose +dimensions the Terrestrials dared not even guess. The crawling +fortresses themselves were thrown backward violently and the very world +was rocked to its core by the concussion, but that iron-driven wall +held. The massive nets swayed and gave back, and tidal waves hurled +their mountainously destructive masses through the Third City, but the +mighty barrier remained intact. And Nerado, still attacking two of the +powerful tanks with his every weapon, was still dodging those flashing +balls charged with the quintessence of destruction. The fishes could not +see through the sub-ethereal veil, but all the gunners of the two +fortresses were combing it thoroughly with ever-lengthening, +ever-thrusting rods, in a desperate attempt to wipe out the new and +apparently all-powerful Nevian submarine whose sheer power was slowly +but inexorably crushing even their gigantic walls. + +"Well, I think that right now's the best chance we'll ever have of doing +something for ourselves." Costigan turned away from the absorbing scenes +pictured upon the visiplate and faced his two companions. + +"But what can we possibly do?" asked Clio. + +"Whatever it is, we'll try it!" Bradley exclaimed. + +"Anything's better than staying here and letting them analyze us--no +telling what they'd do to us," Costigan went on. + +"I know a lot more about things than they think I do. They never did +catch me using my spy-ray--it's on an awfully narrow beam, you know, and +uses almost no power at all--so I've been able to dope out quite a lot +of stuff. I can open most of their locks, and I know how to run their +small boats. This battle, fantastic as it is, is deadly stuff, and it +isn't one-sided, by any means, either, so that every one of them, from +Nerado down, seems to be on emergency duty. There are no guards watching +us, or stationed where we want to go--our way out is open. And once out, +this battle is giving us our best possible chance to get away from them. +There's so much emission out there already that they probably couldn't +detect the driving force of the lifeboat, and they'll be too busy to +chase us, anyway." + +"Once out, then what?" asked Bradley. + +"We'll have to decide that before we start, of course. I'd say make a +break back for Earth. We know the direction and we'll have plenty of +power." + +"But good Heavens, Conway, it's so far!" exclaimed Clio. "How about +food, water, and air--would we ever get there?" + +"You know as much about that as I do. I think so, but of course anything +might happen. This ship is none too big, is considerably slower than the +big space-ship, and we're a long ways from home. Another bad thing is +the food question. The boat is well stocked according to Nevian ideas, +but it's pretty foul stuff for us to eat. However, it's nourishing, and +we'll have to eat it, since we can't carry enough of our own supplies to +the boat to last long. Even so, we may have to go on short rations, but +I think that we'll be able to make it. On the other hand, what happens +if we stay here? They will find us sooner or later, and we don't know +any too much about these ultra-weapons. We are land-dwellers, and there +is little if any land on this planet. Then, too, we don't know where to +look for what land there may be, and even if we could find it, we know +that it is all over-run with amphibians already. There's a lot of things +that might be better, but they might be a lot worse, too. How about it? +Do we try or do we stay here?" + +"We try it!" exclaimed Clio and Bradley, as one. + +"All right. I'd better not waste any more time talking--let's go!" + +Stepping up to the locked and shielded door, he took out a peculiarly +built torch and pointed it at the Nevian lock. There was no light, no +noise, but the massive portal swung smoothly open. They stepped out and +Costigan relocked and reshielded the entrance. + +"How ... what...." Clio demanded. + +"I've been going to school for the last few weeks," Costigan grinned, +"and I've picked up quite a few things here and there--literally, as +well as figuratively. Snap it up, guys! Our armor is stored with the +pieces of the pirates' lifeboat, and I'll feel a lot better when we've +got it on and have hold of a few Lewistons." + +They hurried down corridors, up ramps, and along hallways, with +Costigan's spy-ray investigating the course ahead for chance Nevians. +Bradley and Clio were unarmed, but the operative had found a piece of +flat metal and had ground it to a razor edge. + +"I think I can throw this thing straight enough and fast enough to chop +off a Nevian's head before he can put a paralyzing ray on us," he +explained grimly, but he was not called upon to show his skill with the +improvised cleaver. + +As he had concluded from his careful survey, every Nevian was at some +control or weapon, doing his part in that frightful combat with the +denizens of the greater deeps. Their path was open; they were neither +molested nor detected as they ran toward the compartment within which +was sealed all their belongings. The door of that room opened, as had +the other, to Costigan's knowing beam; and all three set hastily to +work. They made up packs of food, filled their capacious pockets with +emergency rations, buckled on Lewistons and automatics, donned their +armor, and clamped into their external holsters a full complement of +additional weapons. + +"Now comes the ticklish part of the business," Costigan informed the +others. His helmet was slowly turning this way and that, and the others +knew that through his spy-ray goggles he was studying their route. +"There's only one boat we stand a chance of reaching, and somebody's +mighty apt to see us. There's a lot of detectors up there, and we'll +have to cross a corridor full of communicator beams. There, that line's +off--scoot!" + +At his word they dashed out into the hall and hurried along for minutes, +dodging sharply to right or left as the leader snapped out orders. +Finally he stopped. + +"Here's those beams I told you about. We'll have to roll under 'em. +They're less than waist high--right there's the lowest one. Watch me do +it, and when I give you the word, one at a time, you do the same. _Keep +low_--don't let an arm or a leg get up into a ray or they may see us." + +He threw himself flat, rolled upon the floor a yard or so, and scrambled +to his feet. He gazed intently at the blank wall for a space. + +"Bradley--now!" he snapped, and the captain duplicated his performance. + +But Clio, unused to the heavy and cumbersome space-armor she was +wearing, could not roll in it with any degree of success. When Costigan +barked his order she tried, but stopped, floundering almost directly +below the network of invisible beams. As she struggled one mailed arm +went up, and Costigan saw in his ultra-goggles the faint flash as the +beam encountered the interfering field. But already he had acted. +Crouching low, he struck down the arm, seized it, and dragged the girl +out of the zone of visibility. Then in furious haste he opened a nearby +door and all three sprang into a tiny compartment. + +"Shut off all the fields of your suits, so that they can't interfere!" +he hissed into the utter darkness. "Not that I'd mind killing a few of +them, but if they start an organized search we're sunk. But even if they +did get a warning by touching your glove, Clio, they probably won't +suspect us. Our rooms are still shielded, and the chances are that +they're too busy to bother much about us, anyway." + +He was right. A few beams darted here and there, but the Nevians saw +nothing amiss and ascribed the interference to the falling into the beam +of some chance bit of charged metal. With no further misadventures the +fugitives gained entrance to the Nevian lifeboat, where Costigan's first +act was to disconnect one steel boot from his armor of space. With a +sigh of relief he pulled his foot out of it, and from it carefully +poured into the small power-tank of the craft fully thirty pounds of +allotropic iron! + +"I pinched it off them," he explained, in answer to amazed and inquiring +looks, "and maybe you don't think it's a relief to get it out of that +boot! I couldn't steal a flask to carry it in, so this was the only +place I could put it. These lifeboats are equipped with only a couple of +grams of iron apiece, you know, and we couldn't get half-way back to +Tellus on that, even with smooth going; and we may have to fight. With +this much to go on, though, we could go to Andromeda, fighting all the +way. Well, we'd better break away." + +Costigan watched his plate closely; and, when the maneuvering of the +great vessel brought his exit port as far away as possible from the +Third City and the warring tanks, he shot the little cruiser out and +away. Straight out into the ocean it sped, through the murky red veil, +and darted upward toward the surface. The three wanderers sat tense, +hardly daring to breathe, staring into the plates--Clio and Bradley +pushing at mental levers and stepping down hard upon mental brakes in +unconscious efforts to help Costigan dodge the beams and rods of death +flashing so appallingly close upon all sides. Out of the water and into +the air the darting, dodging lifeboat flashed in safety; but in the air, +supposedly free from menace, came disaster. There was a crunching, +grating shock and the vessel was thrown into a dizzy spiral, from which +Costigan finally leveled it into headlong flight away from the scene of +battle. Watching the pyrometers which recorded the temperature of the +outer shell, he drove the lifeboat ahead at the highest safe atmospheric +speed while Bradley went to inspect the damage. + +"Pretty bad, but better than I thought," the captain reported. "Outer +and inner plates broken away on a seam. We wouldn't hold cotton waste, +let alone air. Any tools aboard?" + +"Some--and what we haven't got we'll make," Costigan declared. "We'll +put a lot of distance behind us, then we'll fix her up and get away from +here." + +"What are those fish, anyway, Conway?" Clio asked, as the lifeboat tore +along. "The Nevians are bad enough, Heaven knows, but the very idea of +intelligent and educated _fish_ is enough to drive one mad!" + +"You know Nerado mentioned several times the 'semicivilized fishes of +the greater deeps'?" he reminded her. "I gather that there are at least +three intelligent races here. We know two--the Nevians, who are +amphibians, and the fishes of the greater deeps. The fishes of the +lesser deeps are also intelligent. As I get it, the Nevian cities were +originally built in very shallow water, or perhaps were upon islands. +The development of machinery and tools gave them a big edge on the fish; +and those living in the shallow seas, nearest the Islands, gradually +became tributary nations, if not actually slaves. Those fish not only +serve as food, but work in the mines, hatcheries, and plantations, and +do all kinds of work for the Nevians. Those so-called 'lesser deeps' +were conquered first, of course, and all their races of fish are docile +enough now. But the deep-sea breeds, who live in water so deep that the +Nevians can hardly stand the pressure down there, were more intelligent +to start with, and more stubborn besides. But the most valuable metals +here are deep down--this planet is very light for its size, you know--so +the Nevians kept at it until they conquered some of the deep-sea fish, +too, and put 'em to work. But those high-pressure boys were nobody's +fools. They realized that as time went on the amphibians would get +further and further ahead of them in development, so they let themselves +be conquered, learned how to use the Nevians' tools and everything else +they could get hold of, developed a lot of new stuff of their own, and +now they're out to wipe the amphibians off the map completely, before +they get too far ahead of them to handle." + +"And the Nevians are afraid of them, and want to kill them all, as fast +as they possibly can," guessed Clio. + +"That would be the logical thing, of course," commented Bradley. "Got +pretty nearly enough distance now, Costigan?" + +"There isn't enough distance on the planet to suit me," Costigan +replied. "We'll need all we can get. A full diameter away from that crew +of amphibians is too close for comfort--their detectors are keen." + +"Then they can detect us?" Clio asked. "Oh, I wish they hadn't hit +us--we'd have been away from here long ago." + +"So do I," Costigan agreed, feelingly. "But they did--no use squawking. +We can rivet and weld those seams, and things could be a lot worse--we +are still breathing air!" + +In silence the lifeboat flashed onward, and half of Nevia's mighty globe +was traversed before it was brought to a halt. Then in furious haste the +two officers set to work, again to make their small craft sound and +spaceworthy. + + + + +CHAPTER 12 + +WORM, SUBMARINE, AND FREEDOM + + +Since both Costigan and Bradley had often watched their captors at work +during the long voyage from the Solar System to Nevia, they were quite +familiar with the machine tools of the amphibians. Their stolen +lifeboat, being an emergency craft, of course carried full repair +equipment; and to such good purpose did the two officers labor that even +before their air-tanks were fully charged, all the damage had been +repaired. + +The lifeboat lay motionless upon the mirror-smooth surface of the ocean. +Captain Bradley had opened the upper port and the three stood in the +opening, gazing in silence toward the incredibly distant horizon, while +powerful pumps were forcing the last possible ounces of air into the +storage cylinders. Mile upon strangely flat mile stretched that +waveless, unbroken expanse of water, merging finally into the violent +redness of the Nevian sky. The sun was setting; a vast ball of purple +flame dropping rapidly toward the horizon. Darkness came suddenly as +that seething ball disappeared, and the air became bitterly cold, in +sharp contrast to the pleasant warmth of a moment before. And as +suddenly clouds appeared in blackly banked masses and a cold, driving +rain began to beat down. + +"Br-r-r, it's cold! Let's go in--Oh! _Shut the door!_" Clio shrieked, +and leaped wildly down into the compartment below, out of Costigan's +way, for he and Bradley had also seen slithering toward them the +frightful arm of the Thing. + +Almost before the girl had spoken Costigan had leaped to the controls, +and not an instant too soon; for the tip of that horrible tentacle +flashed into the rapidly narrowing crack just before the door clanged +shut. As the powerful toggles forced the heavy wedges into engagement +and drove the massive disk home, that grisly tip fell severed to the +floor of the compartment and lay there, twitching and writhing with a +loathesome and unearthly vigor. Two feet long the piece was, and larger +than a strong man's leg. It was armed with spiked and jointed metallic +scales, and instead of sucking disks it was equipped with a series of +_mouths_--mouths filled with sharp metallic teeth which gnashed and +ground together furiously, even though sundered from the horrible +organism which they were designed to feed. + +The little submarine shuddered in every plate and member as monstrous +coils encircled her and tightened inexorably in terrific, rippling +surges eloquent of mastodonic power; and a strident vibration smote +sickeningly upon Terrestrial ear-drums as the metal spikes of the +monstrosity crunched and ground upon the outer plating of their small +vessel. Costigan stood unmoved at the plate, watching intently; hands +ready upon the controls. Due to the artificial gravity of the lifeboat +it seemed perfectly stationary to its occupants. Only the weird +gyrations of the pictures upon the lookout screens showed that the craft +was being shaken and thrown about like a rat in the jaws of a terrier; +only the gauges revealed that they were almost a mile below the surface +of the ocean already, and were still going downward at an appalling +rate. Finally Clio could stand no more. + +"Aren't you going to do something, Conway?" she cried. + +"Not unless I have to," he replied, composedly. "I don't believe that +he can really hurt us, and if I use force of any kind I'm afraid that it +will kick up enough disturbance to bring Nerado down on us like a hawk +onto a chicken. However, if he takes us much deeper I'll have to go to +work on him. We're getting down pretty close to our limit, and the +bottom's a long ways down yet." + +Deeper and deeper the lifeboat was dragged by its dreadful opponent, +whose spiked teeth still tore savagely at the tough outer plating of the +craft, until Costigan reluctantly threw in his power switches. Against +the full propellant thrust the monster could draw them no lower, but +neither could the lifeboat make any headway toward the surface. The +pilot then turned on his beams, but found that they were ineffective. So +closely was the creature wrapped around the submarine that his weapons +could not be brought to bear upon it. + +"What can it possibly be, anyway, and what can we do about it?" Clio +asked. + +"I thought at first it was something like a devilfish, or possibly an +overgrown starfish, but it isn't," Costigan made answer. "It must be a +kind of flat worm. That doesn't sound reasonable--the thing must be all +of a hundred meters long--but there it is. The only thing left to do +that I can think of is to try to boil him alive." + +He closed other circuits, diffusing a terrific beam of pure heat, and +the water all about them burst into furious clouds of steam. The boat +leaped upward as the metallic fins of the gigantic worm fanned vapor +instead of water, but the creature neither released its hold nor ceased +its relentlessly grinding attack. Minute after minute went by, but +finally the worm dropped limply away--cooked through and through; +vanquished only by death. + +"Now we've put our foot in it, clear to the neck!" Costigan exclaimed, +as he shot the lifeboat upward at its maximum power. "Look at that! I +knew that Nerado could trace us, but I didn't have any idea that _they_ +could!" + +Staring with Costigan into the plate, Bradley and the girl saw, not the +Nevian sky-rover they had expected, but a fast submarine cruiser, manned +by the frightful fishes of the greater deeps. It was coming directly +toward the lifeboat, and even as Costigan hurled the little vessel off +at an angle and then sped upward into the air, one of the deadly +offensive rods, tipped with its glowing ball of pure destruction, +flashed through the spot where they would have been had they held their +former course. + +But powerful as were the propellant forces of the lifeboat and fiercely +though Costigan applied them, the denizens of the deep clamped a tractor +beam upon the flying vessel before it had gained a mile of altitude. +Costigan aligned his every driving projector as his vessel came to an +abrupt halt in the invisible grip of the beam, then experimented with +various dials. + +"There ought to be some way of cutting that beam," he pondered audibly, +"but I don't know enough about their system to do it, and I'm afraid to +monkey around with things too much, because I might accidentally release +the screens we've already got out, and they're stopping altogether too +much stuff for us to do without them right now." + +He frowned as he studied the flaring defensive screens, now radiating an +incandescent violet under the concentration of forces being hurled +against them by the warlike fishes, then stiffened suddenly. + +"I thought so--they _can_ shoot 'em!" he exclaimed, throwing the +lifeboat into a furious corkscrew turn, and the very air blazed into +flaming splendor as a dazzlingly scintillating ball of energy sped past +them and high into the air beyond. + +Then for minutes a spectacular battle raged. The twisting, turning, +leaping airship, small as she was and agile, kept on eluding the +explosive projectiles of the fishes, and her screens neutralized and +re-radiated the full power of the attacking beams. More--since Costigan +did not need to think of sparing his iron, the ocean around the great +submarine began furiously to boil under the full-driven offensive beams +of the tiny Nevian ship. But escape Costigan could not. He could not cut +that tractor beam and the utmost power of his drivers could not wrest +the lifeboat from its tenacious clutch. And slowly but inexorably the +ship of space was being drawn downward toward the ship of ocean's +depths. Downward, in spite of the utmost possible effort of every +projector and generator; and Clio and Bradley, sick at heart, looked +once at each other. Then they looked at Costigan, who, jaw hard set and +eyes unflinchingly upon his plate, was concentrating his attack upon one +turret of the green monster as they settled lower and lower. + +"If this is ... if our number is going up, Conway," Clio began, +unsteadily. + +"Not yet, it isn't!" he snapped. "Keep a stiff upper lip, girl. We're +still breathing air, and the battle's not over yet!" + +Nor was it; but it was not Costigan's efforts, mighty though they were, +that ended the attack of the fishes of the greater deeps. The tractor +beams snapped without warning, and so prodigious were the forces being +exerted by the lifeboat that as it hurled itself away the three +passengers were thrown violently to the floor, in spite of the powerful +gravity controls. Scrambling up on hands and knees, bracing himself as +best he could against the terrific forces, Costigan managed finally to +force a hand up to his panel. He was barely in time; for even as he cut +the driving power to its normal value the outer shell of the lifeboat +was blazing at white heat from the friction of the atmosphere through +which it had been tearing with such an insane acceleration! + +"Oh, I see--Nerado to the rescue," Costigan commented, after a glance +into the plate. "I hope that those fish blow him clear out of the +Galaxy!" + +"Why?" demanded Clio. "I should think that you'd...." + +"Think again," he advised her. "The worse Nerado gets licked the better +for us. I don't really expect that, but if they can keep him busy long +enough, we can get far enough away so that he won't bother about us any +more." + +As the lifeboat tore upward through the air at the highest permissible +atmospheric velocity Bradley and Clio peered over Costigan's shoulders +into the plate, watching in fascinated interest the scene which was +being kept in focus upon it. The Nevian ship of space was plunging +downward in a long, slanting dive, her terrific beams of force screaming +out ahead of her. The beams of the little lifeboat had boiled the waters +of the ocean; those of the parent craft seemed literally to blast them +out of existence. All about the green submarine there had been volumes +of furiously-boiling water and dense clouds of vapor; now water and fog +alike disappeared, converted into transparent super-heated steam by the +blasts of Nevian energy. Through that tenuous gas the enormous mass of +the submarine fell like a plummet, her defensive screens flaming an +almost invisible violet, her every offensive weapon vomiting forth solid +and vibratory destruction toward the Nevian cruiser so high in the +angry, scarlet heavens. + +For miles the submarine dropped, until the frightful pressure of the +depth drove water into Nerado's beam faster than his forces could +volatilize it. Then in that seething funnel there was waged a starkly +fantastic conflict. At its wildly turbulent bottom lay the submarine, +now apparently trying to escape, but held fast by the tractors of the +space-ship; at its top, smothered almost to the point of invisibility by +billowing masses of steam, hung poised the Nevian cruiser. + +As the atmosphere had grown thinner and thinner with increasing +altitude Costigan had regulated his velocity accordingly, keeping the +outer shell of the vessel at the highest temperature consistent with +safety. Now beyond measurable atmospheric pressure, the shell cooled +rapidly and he applied full touring acceleration. At an appalling and +constantly increasing speed the miniature space-ship shot away from the +strange, red planet; and smaller and smaller upon the plate became its +picture. The great vessel of the void had long since plunged beneath the +surface of the sea, to come more closely to grips with the vessel of the +fishes; for a long time nothing of the battle had been visible save +immense clouds of steam, blanketing hundreds of square miles of the +ocean's surface. But just before the picture became too small to reveal +details a few tiny dark spots appeared above the banks of cloud, now +brilliantly illuminated by the rays of the rising sun--dots which might +have been fragments of either vessel, blown bodily from the depths of +the ocean and, riven asunder, hurled high into the air by the incredible +forces at the command of the other. + +Nevia a tiny moon and the fierce blue sun rapidly growing smaller in the +distance, Costigan swung his visiray beam into the line of travel and +turned to his companions. + +"Well, we're off," he said, scowling. "I hope it was Nerado that got +blown up back there, but I'm afraid it wasn't. He whipped two of those +submarines that we know of, and probably half their fleet besides. +There's no particular reason why that one should be able to take him, so +it's my idea that we should get ready for great gobs of trouble. They'll +chase us, of course; and I'm afraid that with their power, they'll catch +us." + +"But what can we do, Conway?" asked Clio. + +"Several things," he grinned. "I managed to get quite a lot of dope on +that paralyzing ray and some of their other stuff, and we can install +the necessary equipment in our suits easily enough." + +They removed their armor, and Costigan explained in detail the changes +which must be made in the Triplanetary field generators. All three set +vigorously to work--the two officers deftly and surely; Clio uncertainly +and with many questions, but with undaunted spirit. Finally, having done +everything they could do to strengthen their position, they settled down +to the watchful routine of the flight, with every possible instrument +set to detect any sign of the pursuit they so feared. + + + + +CHAPTER 13 + +THE HILL + + +The heavy cruiser Chicago hung motionless in space, thousands of miles +distant from the warring fleets of space-ships so viciously attacking +and so stubbornly defending Roger's planetoid. In the captain's sanctum +Lyman Cleveland crouched tensely above his ultracameras, his sensitive +fingers touching lightly their micrometric dials. His body was rigid, +his face was set and drawn. Only his eyes moved; flashing back and forth +between his instruments and the smoothly-running strands of spring-steel +wire upon which were being recorded the frightful scenes of carnage and +destruction. + +Silent and bitterly absorbed, though surrounded by staring officers +whose fervent, almost unconscious cursing was prayerful in its +intensity, the visiray expert kept his ultra-instruments upon that awful +struggle to its dire conclusion. Flawlessly those instruments noted +every detail of the destruction of Roger's fleet, of the transformation +of the armada of Triplanetary into an unknown fluid, and finally of the +dissolution of the gigantic planetoid itself. Then furiously Cleveland +drove his beam against the crimsonly opaque obscurity into which the +peculiar, viscous stream of substance was disappearing. Time after time +he applied his every watt of power, with no result. A vast volume of +space, roughly ellipsoidal in shape, was closed to him by forces +entirely beyond his experience or comprehension. But suddenly, while his +rays were still trying to pierce that impenetrable murk, it disappeared +instantly and without warning: the illimitable infinity of space once +more lay revealed upon his plates and his beams flashed unimpeded +through the void. + +"Back to Tellus, sir?" The _Chicago's_ captain broke the strained +silence. + +"I wouldn't say so, if I had the say." Cleveland, baffled and +frustrated, straightened up and shut off his cameras. "We should report +back as soon as possible, of course, but there seems to be a lot of +wreckage out there yet that we can't photograph in detail at this +distance. A close study of it might help us a lot in understanding what +they did and how they did it. I'd say that we should get close-ups of +whatever is left, and do it right away, before it gets scattered all +over space; but of course I can't give you orders." + +"You can, though," the captain made surprising answer. "My orders are +that you are in command of this vessel." + +"In that case we will proceed at full emergency acceleration to +investigate the wreckage," Cleveland replied, and the cruiser--sole +survivor of Triplanetary's supposedly invincible force--shot away with +every projector delivering its maximum blast. + +As the scene of the disaster was approached there was revealed upon the +plates a confused mass of debris; a mass whose individual units were +apparently moving at random, yet which was as a whole still following +the orbit of Roger's planetoid. Space was full of machine parts, +structural members, furniture, flotsam of all kinds; and everywhere were +the bodies of men. Some were encased in space-suits, and it was to these +that the rescuers turned first--space-hardened veterans though the men +of the _Chicago_ were, they did not care even to look at the others. +Strangely enough, however, not one of the floating figures spoke or +moved, and space-line men were hurriedly sent out to investigate. + +"All dead." Quickly the dread report came back. "Been dead a long time. +The armor is all stripped off the suits, and all the generators and +other apparatus are all shot. Something funny about it, too--none of +them seem to have been touched, but the machinery of the suits seems to +be about half missing." + +"I've got it all on the reels, sir." Cleveland, his close-up survey of +the wreckage finished, turned to the captain. "What they've just +reported checks up with what I have photographed everywhere. I've got an +idea of what might have happened, but it's so new that I'll have to have +some evidence before I'll believe it myself. You might have them bring +in a few of the armored bodies, a couple of those switchboards and +panels floating around out there, and half a dozen miscellaneous pieces +of junk--the nearest things they get hold of, whatever they happen to +be." + +"Then back to Tellus at maximum?" + +"Right--back to Tellus, as fast as we can possibly get there." + +While the _Chicago_ hurtled through space at full power, Cleveland and +the ranking officers of the vessel grouped themselves about the salvaged +wreckage. Familiar with space-wrecks as were they all, none of them had +ever seen anything like the material before them. For every part and +instrument was weirdly and meaninglessly disintegrated. There were no +breaks, no marks of violence, and yet nothing was intact. Bolt-holes +stared empty, cores, shielding cases and needles had disappeared, the +vital parts of every instrument hung awry, disorganization reigned +rampant and supreme. + +"I never imagined such a mess," the captain said, after a long and +silent study of the objects. "If you have a theory to cover _that_, +Cleveland, I would like to hear it!" + +"I want you to notice something first," the expert replied. "But don't +look for what's there--look for what _isn't_ there." + +"Well, the armor is gone. So are the shielding cases, shafts, spindles, +the housings and stems ..." the captain's voice died away as his eyes +raced over the collection. "Why everything that was made of wood, +bakelite, copper, aluminum, silver, bronze, or anything but steel hasn't +been touched, and every bit of that is gone. But that doesn't make +sense--what does it mean?" + +"I don't know--yet," Cleveland replied, slowly. "But I'm afraid that +there's more, and worse." He opened a space-suit reverently, revealing +the face; a face calm and peaceful, but utterly, sickeningly white. +Still reverently, he made a deep incision in the brawny neck, severing +the jugular vein, then went on, soberly: + +"You never imagined such a thing as _white_ blood, either, but it all +checks up. Someway, somehow, every atom of free or combined iron in this +whole volume of space was made off with." + +"Huh? How come? And above all, _why_?" from the amazed and staring +officers. + +"You know as much as I do," grimly, ponderingly. "If it were not for the +fact that there are solid asteroids of iron out beyond Mars, I would say +that somebody wanted iron badly enough to wipe out the fleet and the +planetoid to get it. But anyway, whoever they were, they carried enough +power so that our armament didn't bother them at all. They simply took +the metal they wanted and went away with it--so fast that I couldn't +trace them with an ultra-beam. There's only one thing plain; but that's +so plain that it scares me stiff. This whole affair spells intelligence, +with a capital 'I', and that intelligence is anything but friendly. I +want to put Fred Rodebush at work on this just as fast as I can get +him." + +He stepped over to his ultra-projector and put in a call for Virgil +Samms, whose face soon appeared upon his screen. + +"We got it all, Virgil," he reported. "It's something +extraordinary--bigger, wider, and deeper than any of us dreamed. It may +be urgent, too, so I think I had better shoot the stuff in on an +ultra-beam and save some time. Fred has a telemagneto recorder there +that he can synchronize with this outfit easily enough. Right?" + +"Right. Good work, Lyman--thanks," came back terse approval and +appreciation, and soon the steel wires were again flashing from reel to +reel. This time, however, their varying magnetic charges were so +modulating ultra-waves that every detail of that calamitous battle of +the void was being screened and recorded in the innermost private +laboratory of the Triplanetary Service. + +Eager though he naturally was to join his fellow-scientists, Cleveland +was not impatient during the long, but uneventful journey back to Earth. +There was much to study, many improvements to be made in his +comparatively crude first ultra-camera. Then, too, there were long +conferences with Samms, and particularly with Rodebush, the nuclear +physicist, who would have to do much of the work involved in solving the +riddles of the energies and weapons of the Nevians. Thus it did not seem +long before green Terra grew large beneath the flying sphere of the +_Chicago_. + +"Going to have to circle it once, aren't you?" Cleveland asked the chief +pilot. He had been watching that officer closely for minutes, admiring +the delicacy and precision with which the great vessel was being +maneuvered preliminary to entering the Earth's atmosphere. + +"Yes," the pilot replied. "We had to come in in the shortest possible +time, and that meant a velocity here that we can't check without a +spiral. However, even at that we saved a lot of time. You can save quite +a bit more, though, by having a rocket-plane come out to meet us +somewhere around fifteen or twenty thousand kilometers, depending upon +where you want to land. With their drives they can match our velocity +and still make the drop direct." + +"Guess I'll do that--thanks," and the operative called his chief, only +to learn that his suggestion had already been acted upon. + +"We beat you to it, Lyman," Samms smiled. "The _Silver Sliver_ is out +there now, looping to match your course, acceleraction, and velocity at +twenty two thousand kilometers. You'll be ready to transfer?" + +"I'll be ready," and the Quartermaster's ex-clerk went to his quarters +and packed his dunnage-bag. + +In due time the long, slender body of the rocket-plane came into view, +creeping "down" upon the space-ship from "above," and Cleveland bade his +friends goodbye. Donning a space-suit, he stationed himself in the +starboard airlock. Its atmosphere was withdrawn, the outer door opened, +and he glanced across a bare hundred feet of space at the rocket-plane +which, keel ports fiercely aflame, was braking her terrific speed to +match the slower pace of the gigantic sphere of war. Shaped like a +toothpick, needle-pointed fore and aft, with ultra-stubby wings and +vanes, with flush-set rocket ports everywhere, built of a lustrous, +silvery alloy of noble and almost infusible metals--such was the private +speedboat of Triplanetary's head man. The fastest thing known, whether +in planetary air, the stratosphere, or the vacuous depth of +interplanetary space, her first flashing trial spins had won her the +nickname of the _Silver Sliver_. She had had a more formal name, but +that title had long since been buried in the Departmental files. + +Lower and lower dropped the speedboat, her rockets flaming ever +brighter, until her slender length lay level with the airlock door. Then +her blasting discharges subsided to the power necessary to match exactly +the _Chicago's_ acceleration. + +"Ready to cut, _Chicago_! Give me a three-second call!" snapped from the +pilot room of the _Sliver_. + +"Ready to cut!" the pilot of the _Chicago_ replied. "Seconds! Three! +Two! One! CUT!" + +At the last word the power of both vessels was instantly cut off and +everything in them became weightless. In the tiny airlock of the slender +plane crouched a space-line man with coiled cable in readiness, but he +was not needed. As the flaring exhausts ceased Cleveland swung out his +heavy bag and stepped lightly off into space, and in a right line he +floated directly into the open port of the rocket-plane. The door +clanged shut behind him and in a matter of moments he stood in the +control room of the racer, divested of his armor and shaking hands with +his friend and co-laborer, Frederick Rodebush. + +"Well, Fritz, what do you know?" Cleveland asked, as soon as greetings +had been exchanged. "How do the various reports dovetail together? I +know that you couldn't tell me anything on the wave, but there's no +danger of eavesdroppers _here_." + +"You can't tell," Rodebush soberly replied. "We're just beginning to +wake up to the fact that there are a lot of things we don't know +anything about. Better wait until we're back at the Hill. We have a full +set of ultra screens around there now. There's a couple of other good +reasons, too--it would be better for both of us to go over the whole +thing with Virgil, from the ground up; and we can't do any more talking, +anyway. Our orders are to get back there at maximum, and you know what +that means aboard the _Sliver_. Strap yourself solid in that +shock-absorber there, and here's a pair of ear-plugs." + +"When the _Sliver_ really cuts loose it means a rough party, all right," +Cleveland assented, snapping about his body the heavy spring-straps of +his deeply cushioned seat, "but I'm just as anxious to get back to the +Hill as anybody can be to get me there. All set." + +Rodebush waved his hand at the pilot and the purring whisper of the +exhausts changed instantly to a deafening, continuous explosion. The men +were pressed deeply into their shock-absorbing chairs as the _Silver +Sliver_ spun around her longitudinal axis and darted away from the +_Chicago_ with such a tremendous acceleration that the spherical warship +seemed to be standing still in space. In due time the calculated +midpoint was reached, the slim space-plane rolled over again, and, mad +acceleration now reversed, rushed on toward the Earth, but with +constantly diminishing speed. Finally a measurable atmospheric pressure +was encountered, the needle prow dipped downward, and the _Silver +Sliver_ shot forward upon her tiny wings and vanes, nose-rockets now +drumming in staccato thunder. Her metal grew hot; dull red, bright red, +yellow, blinding white; but it neither melted nor burned. The pilot's +calculations had been sound, and though the limiting point of safety of +temperature was reached and steadily held, it was not exceeded. As the +density of the air increased so decreased the velocity of the man-made +meteorite. So it was that a dazzling lance of fire sped high over +Seattle, lower over Spokane, and hurled itself eastward, a furiously +flaming arrow; slanting downward in a long, screaming dive toward the +heart of the Rockies. As the now rapidly cooling greyhound of the skies +passed over the western ranges of the Bitter Roots it became apparent +that her goal was a vast, flat-topped, conical mountain, shrouded in +violet light; a mountain whose height awed even its stupendous +neighbors. + +While not artificial, the Hill had been altered markedly by the +engineers who had built into it the headquarters of the Triplanetary +Service. Its mile-wide top was a jointless expanse of gray armor steel; +the steep, smooth surface of the truncated cone was a continuation of +the same immensely thick sheet of metal. No known vehicle could climb +that smooth, hard, forbidding slope of steel; no known projectile could +mar that armor; no known craft could even approach the Hill without +detection. Could not approach it at all, in fact, for it was constantly +inclosed in a vast hemisphere of lambent violet flame through which +neither material substance nor destructive ray could pass. + +As the _Silver Sliver_, crawling along at a bare five hundred miles an +hour, approached that transparent, brilliantly violet wall of +destruction, a light of the same color filled her control room and as +suddenly went out; flashing on and off again and again. + +"Giving us the once-over, eh?" Cleveland asked. "That's something new, +isn't it?" + +"Yes, it's a high-powered ultra-wave spy," Rodebush returned. "The light +is simply a warning, which can be carried if desired. It can also carry +voice and vision...." + +"Like this," Samms' voice interrupted from a speaker upon the pilot's +panel and his clear-cut face appeared upon the television screen. "I +don't suppose Fred thought to mention it, but this is one of his +inventions of the last few days. We are just trying it out on you. It +doesn't mean a thing though, as far as the _Sliver_ is concerned. Come +ahead!" + +A circular opening appeared on the wall of force, an opening which +disappeared as soon as the plane had darted through it; and at the same +time her landing-cradle rose into the air through a great trap-door. +Slowly and gracefully the space-plane settled downward into that +cushioned embrace. Then cradle and nestled _Sliver_ sank from view and, +turning smoothly upon mighty trunnions, the plug of armor drove solidly +back into its place in the metal pavement of the mountain's lofty +summit. The cradle-elevator dropped rapidly, coming to rest many levels +down in the heart of the Hill, and Cleveland and Rodebush leaped lightly +out of their transport, through her still hot outer walls. A door opened +before them and they found themselves in a large room of unshadowed +daylight illumination; the office of the Chief of the Triplanetary +Service. Calmly efficient executives sat at their desks, concentrating +upon problems or at ease, according to the demands of the moment; +agents, secretaries, and clerks, men and women, went about their wonted +tasks; televisotypes and recorders flashed busily but silently--each +person and machine an integral part of the Service which for so many +years had been carrying an ever-increasing share of the load of +governing the three planets. + +"Right of way, Norma?" Rodebush paused before the desk of Virgil Samms' +private secretary. She pressed a button and the door behind her swung +wide. + +"You two do not need to be announced," the attractive young woman +smiled. "Go right in." + +Samms met them at the door eagerly, shaking hands particularly +vigorously with Cleveland. + +"Congratulations on that camera, Lyman!" he exclaimed. "You did a +wonderful piece of work on that. Help yourselves to smokes and sit +down--there are a lot of things we want to talk over. Your pictures +carried most of the story, but they would have left us pretty much at +sea without Costigan's reports. But as it was, Fred here and his crew +worked out most of the answers from the dope the two of you got; and +what few they haven't got yet they soon will have." + +"Nothing new on Conway?" Cleveland was almost afraid to ask the +question. + +"No." A shadow came over Samms' face. "I'm afraid ... but I'm hoping +it's only that those creatures, whatever they are, have taken him so far +away he can't reach us." + +"They certainly are so far away that we can't reach them," Rodebush +volunteered. "We can't even get their ultra-wave interference any more." + +"Yes, that's a hopeful sign," Samms went on. "I hate to think of Conway +Costigan checking out. There, fellows, was a real observer. He was the +only man I have ever known who combined the two qualities of the perfect +witness. He could actually see everything he looked at, and could report +it truly, to the last, least detail. Take all this stuff, for instance; +especially their ability to transform iron into a fluid allotrope, and +in that form to use its atomic--nuclear?--energy as power. Something +brand new, and yet he described their converters and projectors so +minutely that Fred was able to work out the underlying theory in three +days, and to tie it in with our own super-ship. My first thought was +that we'd have to rebuild it iron-free, but Fred showed me my error--you +found it first yourself, of course." + +"It wouldn't do any good to make the ship non-ferrous unless you could +so change our blood chemistry that we could get along without +hemoglobin, and that would be quite a feat," Cleveland agreed. "Then, +too, our most vital electrical machinery is built around iron cores. +We'll also have to develop a screen for those forces--screens, rather, +so powerful that they can't drive anything through them." + +"We've been working along those lines ever since you reported," Rodebush +said, "and we're beginning to see light. And in that same connection +it's no wonder that we couldn't handle our super-ship. We had some good +ideas, but they were wrongly applied. However, things look quite +promising now. We have the transformation of iron all worked out in +theory, and as soon as we get a generator going we can straighten out +everything else in short order. And think what that unlimited power +means! All the power we want--power enough even to try out such hitherto +purely theoretical possibilities as the neutralization of the inertia of +matter!" + +"Hold on!" protested Samms. "You certainly can't do _that_! Inertia +is--_must_ be--a basic attribute of matter, and surely cannot be done +away with without destroying the matter itself. Don't start anything +like that, Fred--I don't want to lose you and Lyman, too." + +"Don't worry about us, Chief," Rodebush replied with a smile. "If you +will tell me what matter is, fundamentally, I may agree with you.... No? +Well, then, don't be surprised at anything that happens. We are going to +do a lot of things that nobody on the Three Planets ever thought of +doing before." + +Thus for a long time the argument and discussion went on, to be +interrupted by the voice of the secretary. + +"Sorry to disturb you, Mr. Samms, but some things have come up that you +will have to handle. Knobos is calling from Mars. He has caught the +_Endymion_, and has killed about half her crew doing it. Milton has +finally reported from Venus, after being out of touch for five days. He +trailed the Wintons into Thalleron swamp. They crashed him there, and he +won out and has what he went after. And just now I got a flash from +Fletcher, in the asteroid belt. I think that he has finally traced that +dope line. But Knobos is on now--what do you want him to do about the +_Endymion_?" + +"Tell him to--no, put him on here, I'd better tell him myself," Samms +directed, and his face hardened in ruthless decision as the horny, +misshapen face of the Martian lieutenant appeared upon the screen. "What +do you think, Knobos? Shall they come to trial or not?" + +"Not." + +"I don't think so, either. It is better that a few gangsters should +disappear in space than that the Patrol should have to put down another +uprising. See to it." + +"Right." The screen darkened and Samms spoke to his secretary. "Put +Milton and Fletcher on whenever they come in." He turned to his guests. +"We've covered the ground quite thoroughly. Goodbye--I wish I could go +with you, but I'll be pretty well tied up for the next week or two." + +"'Tied up' doesn't half express it," Rodebush remarked as the two +scientists walked along a corridor toward an elevator. "He probably is +the busiest man on three planets." + +"As well as the most powerful," Cleveland supplemented. "And very few +men could use his power as fairly--but he's welcome to it, as far as I'm +concerned. I'd have the pink fantods for a month if I had to do only +once what he's just done--and to him it's just part of a day's work." + +"You mean the _Endymion_? What else could he do?" + +"Nothing--that's the hell of it. It had to be done, since bringing them +to trial would mean killing half the people of Morseca; but at the same +time it's a ghastly thing to order a job of deliberate, cold-blooded, +and illegal murder." + +"You're right, of course, but you would ..." he broke off, unable to put +his thoughts into words. For while inarticulate, man-like, concerning +their deepest emotions, in both men was ingrained the code of the +organization; both knew that to every man chosen for it THE SERVICE was +everything, himself nothing. + +"But enough of that, we'll have plenty of grief of our own right here." +Rodebush changed the subject abruptly as they stepped into a vast room, +almost filled by the immense bulk of the _Boise_--the sinister +space-ship which, although never flown, had already lined with black so +many pages of Triplanetary's roster. She was now, however, the center of +a furious activity. Men swarmed over her and through her, in the orderly +confusion of a fiercely driven but carefully planned program of +reconstruction. + +"I hope your dope is right, Fritz!" Cleveland called, as the two +scientists separated to go to their respective laboratories. "If it is, +we'll make a perfect lady out of this unmanageable man-killer yet!" + + + + +CHAPTER 14 + +THE SUPER-SHIP IS LAUNCHED + + +After weeks of ceaseless work, during which was lavished upon her every +resource of mind and material afforded by three planets, the _Boise_ was +ready for her maiden flight. As nearly ready, that is, as the thought +and labor of man could make her. Rodebush and Cleveland had finished +their last rigid inspection of the aircraft and, standing beside the +center door of the main airlock, were talking with their chief. + +"You say that you think that it's safe, and yet you won't take a crew," +Samms argued. "In that case it isn't safe enough for you two, either. We +need you too badly to permit you to take such chances." + +"You've _got_ to let us go, because we are the only ones who are at all +familiar with her theory," Rodebush insisted. "I said, and I still say, +that I _think_ it is safe. I can't prove it, however, even +mathematically; because she's altogether too full of too many new and +untried mechanisms, too many extrapolations beyond all existing or +possible data. Theoretically, she is sound, but you know that theory can +go only so far, and that mathematically negligible factors may become +operative at those velocities. We do not need a crew for a short trip. +We can take care of any minor mishaps, and if our fundamental theories +are wrong, all the crews between here and Jupiter wouldn't do any good. +Therefore we two are going--alone." + +"Well, be very careful, anyway. I wish that you could start out slow and +take it easy." + +"In a way, so do I, but she wasn't designed to neutralize half of +gravity, nor half of the inertia of matter--it's got to be everything or +nothing, as soon as the neutralizers go on. We could start out on the +projectors, of course, instead of on the neutralizers, but that wouldn't +prove anything and would only prolong the agony." + +"Well, then, be as careful as you can." + +"We'll do that, Chief," Cleveland put in. "We think as much of us as +anybody else does--maybe more--and we aren't committing suicide if we +can help it. And remember about everybody staying inside when we take +off--it's barely possible that we'll take up a lot of room. Goodbye!" + +"Goodbye, fellows!" + +The massive insulating doors were shut, the metal side of the mountain +opened, and huge, squat caterpillar tractors came roaring and clanking +into the room. Chains and cables were made fast and, mighty steel rails +groaning under the load, the space-ship upon her rolling ways was +dragged out of the Hill and far out upon the level floor of the valley +before the tractors cast off and returned to the fortress. + +"Everybody is under cover," Samms informed Rodebush. The Chief was +staring intently into his plate, upon which was revealed the control +room of the untried super-ship. He heard Rodebush speak to Cleveland; +heard the observer's brief reply; saw the navigator push the +switch-button--then the communicator plate went blank. Not the ordinary +blankness of a cut-off, but a peculiarly disquieting fading out into +darkness. And where the great space-ship had rested there was for an +instant nothing. Exactly nothing--a vacuum. Vessel, falsework, rollers, +trucks, the enormous steel I-beams of the tracks, even the deep-set +concrete piers and foundations and a vast hemisphere of the solid +ground; all disappeared utterly and instantaneously. But almost as +suddenly as it had been formed the vacuum was filled by a cyclonic rush +of air. There was a detonation as of a hundred vicious thunderclaps made +one, and through the howling, shrieking blasts of wind there rained down +upon valley, plain, and metaled mountain a veritable avalanche of +debris; bent, twisted, and broken rails and beams, splintered timbers, +masses of concrete, and thousands of cubic yards of soil and rock. For +the atomic-powered "Rodebush-Cleveland" neutralizers were more powerful +by far, and had a vastly greater radius of action, than the calculations +of their designers had shown; and for a moment everything within a +hundred yards or so of the _Boise_ behaved as though it were an integral +part of the vessel. Then, left behind immediately by the super-ship's +almost infinite velocity, all this material had again become subject to +all of Nature's every-day laws and had crashed back to the ground. + +"Could you hold your beam, Randolph?" Samms' voice cut sharply through +the daze of stupefaction which held spellbound most of the denizens of +the Hill. But all were not so held--no conceivable emergency could take +the attention of the chief ultra-wave operator from his instruments. + +"No, sir," Radio Center shot back. "It faded out and I couldn't recover +it. I put everything I've got behind a tracer on that beam, but haven't +been able to lift a single needle off the pin." + +"And no wreckage of the vessel itself," Samms went on, half audibly. +"Either they have succeeded far beyond their wildest hopes or else ... +more probably...." He fell silent and switched off the plate. Were his +two friends, those intrepid scientists, alive and triumphant, or had +they gone to lengthen the list of victims of that man-killing +space-ship? Reason told him that they were gone. They _must_ be gone, or +else the ultra-beams--energies of such unthinkable velocity of +propagation that man's most sensitive instruments had never been able +even to estimate it--would have held the ship's transmitter in spite of +any velocity attainable by matter under any conceivable conditions. The +ship must have been disintegrated as soon as Rodebush released his +forces. And yet, had not the physicist dimly foreseen the possibility of +such an actual velocity--or had he? However, individuals could come and +go, but the Service went on. Samms squared his shoulders unconsciously; +and slowly, grimly, made his way back to his private office. + +"Mr. Fairchild would like to have a moment as soon as possible, sir," +his secretary informed him even before he sat down. "Senator Morgan has +been here all day, you know, and he insists on seeing you personally." + +"Oh, that kind, eh? All right, I'll see him. Get Fairchild, please ... +Dick? Can you talk, or is he there listening?" + +"No, he's heckling Saunders at the moment. He's been here long enough. +Can you take a minute and throw him out?" + +"Of course, if you say so, but why not throw the hooks into him +yourself, as usual?" + +"He wants to lay down the law to you, personally. He's a Big Shot, you +know, and his group is kicking up quite a row, so it might be better to +have it come straight from the top. Besides, you've got a unique +knack--when you throw a harpoon, the harpoonee doesn't forget it." + +"All right. He's the uplifter and leveler-off. Down with Triplanetary, up +with National Sovereignty. We're power-mad dictators--iron-heel-on-the- +necks-of-the-people, and so on. But what's he like, personally? +Thick-skinned, of course--got a brain?" + +"Rhinoceros. He's got a brain, but it's definitely weaseloid. Bear +down--sink it in full length, and then twist it." + +"O.K. You've got a harpoon, of course?" + +"Three of 'em!" Fairchild, Head of Triplanetary's Public Relations, +grinned with relish. "Boss Jim Towne owns him in fee simple. The number +of his hot lock box is N469T414. His subbest sub-rosa girl-friend is +Fi-Chi le Bay ... yes, everything that the name implies. She got a +super-deluxe fur coat--Martian tekkyl, no less--out of that Mackenzie +River power deal. Triple play, you might say--Clander to Morgan to le +Bay." + +"Nice. Bring him in." + +"Senator Morgan, Mr. Samms," Fairchild made the introduction and the two +men sized each other up in lightning glances. Samms saw a big man, +florid, somewhat inclined toward corpulence, with the surface +geniality--and the shrewd calculating eyes--of the successful +politician. The senator saw a tall, hard-trained man in his forties; a +lean, keen, smooth-shaven face; a shock of red-bronze-auburn hair a +couple of weeks overdue for a cutting; a pair of gold-flecked tawny eyes +too penetrant for comfort. + +"I trust, Senator, that Fairchild has taken care of you satisfactorily?" + +"With one or two exceptions, yes." Since Samms did not ask what the +exceptions could be, Morgan was forced to continue. "I am here, as you +know, in my official capacity as Chairman of the Pernicious Activities +Committee of the North American Senate. It has been observed for years +that the published reports of your organization have left much unsaid. +It is common knowledge that high-handed outrages have been perpetrated; +if not by your men themselves, in such circumstances that your agents +could not have been ignorant of them. Therefore it has been decided to +make a first-hand and comprehensive investigation, in which matter your +Mr. Fairchild has not been at all cooperative." + +"Who decided to make this investigation?" + +"Why, the North American Senate, of course, through its Pernicious +Activities...." + +"I thought so." Samms interrupted. "Don't you know, Senator, that the +Hill is not a part of the North American Continent? That the +Triplanetary Service is responsible only to the Triplanetary Council?" + +"Quibbling, sir, and outmoded! This, sir, is a democracy!" the Senator +began to orate. "All that will be changed very shortly, and if you are +as smart as you are believed to be, I need only say that you and those +of your staff who cooperate...." + +"You need say nothing at all." Samms' voice cut. "It has not been +changed yet. The Government of North America rules its continent, as do +the other Continental Governments. The combined Continental Governments +of the Three Planets form the Triplanetary Council, which is a +non-political body, the members of which hold office for life and which +is the supreme authority in any matter, small or large, affecting more +than one Continental Government. The Council has two principal operating +agencies; the Triplanetary Patrol, which enforces its decisions, rules, +and regulations, and the Triplanetary Service, which performs such other +tasks as the Council directs. We have no interest in the purely internal +affairs of North America. Have you any information to the contrary?" + +"More quibbling!" the Senator thundered. "This is not the first time in +history that a ruthless dictatorship has operated in the disguise of a +democracy. Sir, I _demand_ full access to your files, so that I can +spread before the North American Senate the full facts of the various +matters which I mentioned to Fairchild--one of which was the affair of +the _Pelarion_. In a democracy, sir, facts should not be hidden; the +people must and shall be kept completely informed upon any matter which +affects their welfare or their political lives!" + +"Is that so? If I should ask, then, for the purpose of keeping the +Triplanetary Council, and through it your constituents, fully informed +as to the political situation in North America, you would undoubtedly +give me the key to safe-deposit box N469T414? For it is common +knowledge, in the Council at least, that there is a certain amount +of--shall we say turbidity?--in the supposedly pellucid reaches of North +American politics." + +"What? Preposterous!" Morgan made a heroic effort, but could not quite +maintain his poise. "Private papers only, sir!" + +"Perhaps. Certain of the Councillors believe, however mistakenly, that +there are several things of interest there: such as the record of +certain transactions involving one James F. Towne; references to and +details concerning dealings--not to say deals--with Mackenzie Power, +specifically with Mackenzie Power's Mr. Clander; and perhaps a juicy bit +or two concerning a person known as le Bay and a tekkyl coat. Of +interest no end, don't you think, to the dear people of North America?" + +As Samms drove the harpoon in and twisted it, the big man suffered +visibly. Nevertheless: + +"You refuse to cooperate, eh?" he blustered. "Very well, I will go--but +you have not heard the last of me, Samms!" + +"No? Probably not. But remember, before you do any more rabble-rousing, +that this lock-box thing is merely a sample. We of the Service know a +lot of things that we do not mention to anybody--except in +self-defense." + +"I am holding Fletcher, Mr. Samms. Shall I put him on now?" Norma asked, +as the completely deflated Morgan went out. + +"Yes, please.... Hello, Sid; mighty glad to see you--we were scared for +a while. How did you make out, and what was it?" + +"Hi, Chief! Mostly hadive. Some heroin, and quite a bit of Martian +ladolian. Lousy job, though--three of the gang got away, and took about +a quarter of the loot with them. That was what I want to talk to you +about in such a hurry--fake meteors; the first I ever saw." + +Samms straightened up in his chair. + +"Just a second. Norma, put Redmond on here with us.... Listen, Harry. +Now, Fletcher, did you see that fake meteor yourself? Touch it?" + +"Both. In fact, I've still got it. One of the runners, pretending to be +a Service man, flashed it on _me_. It's really good, too, Chief. Even +now, I can't tell it from my own except that mine is in my pocket. Shall +I send it in?" + +"By all means; to Dr. H.D. Redmond, Head of Research. Keep on slugging, +Sid--goodbye. Now, Harry, what do you think? It _could_ be one of our +own, you know." + +"Could be, but probably isn't. We'll know as soon as we get it in the +lab. Chances are, though, that they have caught up with us again. After +all, that was to be expected--anything that science can synthesize, +science can analyze; and whatever the morals and ethics of the pirates +may be, they have got brains." + +"And you haven't been able to devise anything better?" + +"Variations only, which wouldn't take much time to solve. Fundamentally, +the present meteor is the best we know." + +"Got anybody you would like to put on it, immediately?" + +"Of course. One of the new boys will be perfect for the job, I think. +Name of Bergenholm. Quite a character. Brilliant, erratic, flashes of +sheer genius that he can't explain, even to us. I'll put him on it right +away." + +"Thanks a lot. And now, Norma, please keep everybody off my neck that +you can. I want to think." + +And think he did; keen eyes clouded, staring unseeingly at the papers +littering his desk. Triplanetary needed a symbol--a something--which +would identify a Service man anywhere, at any time, under any +circumstances, without doubt or question ... something that could not be +counterfeited or imitated, to say nothing of being duplicated ... +something that no scientist not of Triplanetary Service could _possibly_ +imitate ... better yet, something that no one not of Triplanetary could +even wear.... + +Samms grinned fleetingly at that thought. A tall order one calling for a +_deus ex machina_ with a vengeance.... But damn it, there ought to be +_some_ way to.... + +"Excuse me, sir." His secretary's voice, usually so calm and cool, +trembled as she broke in on his thinking. "Commissioner Kinnison is +calling. Something terrible is going on again, out toward Orion. Here he +is," and there appeared upon Samms' screen the face of the Commissioner +of Public Safety, the commander-in-chief of Triplanetary's every armed +force; whether of land or of water, of air or of empty space. + +"They've come back, Virgil!" The Commissioner rapped out without +preliminary or greeting. "Four vessels gone--a freighter and a passenger +liner, with her escort of two heavy cruisers. All in Sector M, Dx about +151. I have ordered all traffic out of space for the duration of the +emergency, and since even our warships seem useless, every ship is +making for the nearest dock at maximum. How about that new flyer of +yours--got anything that will do us any good?" No one beyond the +"Hill's" shielding screens knew that the _Boise_ had already been +launched. + +"I don't know. We don't even know whether we have a super-ship or not," +and Samms described briefly the beginning--and very probably the +ending--of the trial flight, concluding: "It looks bad, but if there was +any possible way of handling her, Rodebush and Cleveland did it. All our +tracers are negative yet, so nothing definite has...." + +He broke off as a frantic call came in from the Pittsburgh station for +the Commissioner; a call which Samms both heard and saw. + +"The city is being attacked!" came the urgent message. "We need all the +reenforcements you can send us!" and a picture of the beleaguered city +appeared in ghastly detail upon the screens of the observers; a view +being recorded from the air. It required only seconds for the +commissioner to order every available man and engine of war to the seat +of conflict; then, having done everything they could do, Kinnison and +Samms stared in helpless, fascinated horror into their plates, watching +the scenes of carnage and destruction depicted there. + +The Nevian vessel--the sister-ship, the craft which Costigan had seen in +mid-space as it hurtled Earthward in response to Nerado's summons--hung +poised in full visibility high above the metropolis. Scornful of the +pitiful weapons wielded by man, she hung there, her sinister beauty of +line sharply defined against the cloudless sky. From her shining hull +there reached down a tenuous but rigid rod of crimson energy; a rod +which slowly swept hither and thither as the Nevians searched out the +richest deposits of the precious metal for which they had come so far. +Iron, once solid, now a viscous red liquid, was sluggishly flowing in an +ever-thickening stream up that intangible crimson duct and into the +capacious storage tanks of the Nevian raider; and wherever that flaming +beam went there went also ruin, destruction and death. Office buildings, +skyscrapers towering majestically in their architectural symmetry and +beauty, collapsed into heaps of debris as their steel skeletons were +abstracted. Deep into the ground the beam bored; flood, fire, and +explosion following in its wake as the mazes of underground piping +disappeared. And the humanity of the buildings died: instantaneously and +painlessly, never knowing what struck them, as the life-bearing iron of +their bodies went to swell the Nevian stream. + +Pittsburgh's defenses had been feeble indeed. A few antiquated railway +rifles had hurled their shells upward in futile defiance, and had been +quietly absorbed. The district planes of Triplanetary, newly armed with +iron-driven ultra-beams, had assembled hurriedly and had attacked the +invader in formation, with but little more success. Under the impact of +their beams, the stranger's screens had flared white, then poised ship +and flying squadron had alike been lost to view in a murkily opaque +shroud of crimson flame. The cloud had soon dissolved, and from the +place where the planes had been there floated or crashed down a litter +of non-ferrous wreckage. And now the cone of space-ships from the +Buffalo base of Triplanetary was approaching Pittsburgh hurling itself +toward the Nevian plunderer and toward known, gruesome, and hopeless +defeat. + +"Stop them, Rod!" Samms cried. "It's sheer slaughter! They haven't got a +thing--they aren't even equipped yet with the iron drive!" + +"I know it," the commissioner groaned, "and Admiral Barnes knows it as +well as we do, but it can't be helped--wait a minute! The Washington +cone is reporting. They're as close as the other, and they have the new +armament. Philadelphia is close behind, and so is New York. Now perhaps +we can do something!" + +The Buffalo flotilla slowed and stopped, and in a matter of minutes the +detachments from the other bases arrived. The cone was formed and, +iron-driven vessels in the van, the old-type craft far in the rear, it +bore down upon the Nevian, vomiting from its hollow front a solid +cylinder of annihilation. Once more the screens of the Nevian flared +into brilliance, once more the red cloud of destruction was flung +abroad. But these vessels were not entirely defenseless. Their +iron-driven ultra-generators threw out screens of the Nevians' own +formulae, screens of prodigious power to which the energies of the +amphibians clung and at which they clawed and tore in baffled, wildly +coruscant displays of power unthinkable. For minutes the furious +conflict raged, while the inconceivable energy being dissipated by those +straining screens hurled itself in terribly destructive bolts of +lightning upon the city far beneath. + +No battle of such incredible violence could long endure. Triplanetary's +ships were already exerting their utmost power, while the Nevians, +contemptuous of Solarian science, had not yet uncovered their full +strength. Thus the last desperate effort of mankind was proved futile as +the invaders forced their beams deeper and deeper into the overloaded +defensive screens of the war-vessels; and one by one the supposedly +invincible space-ships of humanity dropped in horribly dismembered ruin +upon the ruins of what had once been Pittsburgh. + + + + +CHAPTER 15 + +SPECIMENS + + +Only too well founded was Costigan's conviction that the submarine of +the deep-sea fishes had not been able to prevail against Nerado's +formidable engines of destruction. For days the Nevian lifeboat with +its three Terrestrial passengers hurtled through the interstellar void +without incident, but finally the operative's fears were realized--his +far flung detector screens reacted; upon his observation plate they +could see Nerado's mammoth space-ship, in full pursuit of its fleeing +lifeboat! + +"On your toes, folks--it won't be long now!" Costigan called, and +Bradley and Clio hurried into the tiny control room. + +Armor donned and tested, the three Terrestrials stared into the +observation plates, watching the rapidly-enlarging picture of the Nevian +space-ship. Nerado had traced them and was following them, and such was +the power of the great vessel that the now inconceivable velocity of the +lifeboat was the veriest crawl in comparison to that of the pursuing +cruiser. + +"And we've hardly started to cover the distance back to Tellus. Of +course you couldn't get in touch with anybody yet?" Bradley stated, +rather than asked. + +"I kept trying, of course, until they blanketed my wave, but all +negative. Thousands of times too far for my transmitter. Our only hope +of reaching anybody was the mighty slim chance that our super-ship might +be prowling around out here already, but it isn't, of course. Here they +are!" + +Reaching out to the control panel, Costigan viciously shot out against +the great vessel wave after wave of lethal vibrations, under whose +fiercely clinging impacts the Nevian defensive screens flared white; +but, strangely enough, their own screens did not radiate. As if +contemptuous of any weapons the lifeboat might wield, the mother ship +simply defended herself from the attacking beams, in much the same +fashion as a wildcat mother wards off the claws and teeth of her +spitting, snarling kitten who is resenting a touch of needed maternal +discipline. + +"They probably wouldn't fight us, at that," Clio first understood the +situation. "This is their own lifeboat, and they want us alive, you +know." + +"There's one more thing we can try--hang on!" Costigan snapped, as he +released his screens and threw all his power into one enormous pressor +beam. + +The three were thrown to the floor and held there by an awful weight as +the lifeboat darted away at the stupendous acceleration of the beam's +reaction against the unimaginable mass of the Nevian sky-rover; but the +flight was of short duration. Along that pressor beam there crept a dull +red rod of energy, which surrounded the fugitive shell and brought it +slowly to a halt. Furiously then Costigan set and reset his controls, +launching his every driving force and his every weapon, but no beam +could penetrate that red murk, and the lifeboat remained motionless in +space. No, not motionless--the red rod was shortening, drawing the +truant craft back toward the launching port from which she had so +hopefully emerged a few days before. Back and back it was drawn; +Costigan's utmost efforts futile to affect by a hair's breadth its line +of motion. Through the open port the boat slipped neatly, and as it came +to a halt in its original position within the multi-layered skin of the +monster, the prisoners heard the heavy doors clang shut behind them, one +after another. + +And then sheets of blue fire snapped and crackled about the three suits +of Triplanetary armor--the two large human figures and the small ones +were outlined starkly in blinding blue flame. + +"That's the first thing that has come off according to schedule." +Costigan laughed, a short, fierce bark. "That is their paralyzing ray, +we've got it stopped cold, and we've each got enough iron to hold it +forever." + +"But it looks as though the best we can do is a stalemate," Bradley +argued. "Even if they can't paralyze us, we can't hurt them, and we are +heading back for Nevia." + +"I think Nerado will come in for a conference, and we'll be able to make +terms of some kind. He must know what these Lewistons will do, and he +knows that we'll get a chance to use them, some way or other, before he +gets to us again," Costigan asserted, confidently--but again he was +wrong. + +The door opened, and through it there waddled, rolled, or crawled a +metal-clad monstrosity--a thing with wheels, legs and writhing tentacles +of jointed bronze; a thing possessed of defensive screens sufficiently +powerful to absorb the full blast of the Triplanetary projectors without +effort. Three brazen tentacles reached out through the ravening beams of +the Lewistons, smashed them to bits, and wrapped themselves in +unbreakable shackles about the armored forms of the three human beings. +Through the door the machine or creature carried its helpless load, and +out into and along a main corridor. And soon the three Terrestrials, +without arms, without armor, and almost without clothing, were standing +in the control room, again facing the calm and unmoved Nerado. To the +surprise of the impetuous Costigan, the Nevian commander was entirely +without rancor. + +"The desire for freedom is perhaps common to all forms of animate life," +he commented, through the transformer. "As I told you before, however, +you are specimens to be studied by the College of Science, and you shall +be so studied in spite of anything you may do. Resign yourselves to +that." + +"Well, say that we don't try to make any more trouble; that we cooperate +in the examination and give you whatever information we can," Costigan +suggested. "Then you will probably be willing to give us a ship and let +us go back to our own world?" + +"You will not be allowed to cause any more trouble," the amphibian +declared, coldly. "Your cooperation will not be required. We will take +from you whatever knowledge and information we wish. In all probability +you will never be allowed to return to your own system, because as +specimens you are too unique to lose. But enough of this idle +chatter--take them back to their quarters!" + +Back to their three inter-communicating rooms the prisoners were led +under heavy guard; and, true to his word, Nerado made certain that they +had no more opportunities to escape. To Nevia the space-ship sped +without incident, and in manacles the Terrestrials were taken to the +College of Science, there to undergo the physical and psychical +examinations which Nerado had promised them. + +Nor had the Nevian scientist-captain erred in stating that their +cooperation was neither needed nor desired. Furious but impotent, the +human beings were studied in laboratory after laboratory by the coldly +analytical, unfeeling scientists of Nevia, to whom they were nothing +more or less than specimens; and in full measure they came to know what +it meant to play the part of an unknown, lowly organism in a biological +research. They were photographed, externally and internally. Every bone, +muscle, organ, vessel, and nerve was studied and charted. Every reflex +and reaction was noted and discussed. Meters registered every impulse +and recorders filmed every thought, every idea, and every sensation. +Endlessly, day after day, the nerve-wracking torture went on, until the +frantic subjects could bear no more. White-faced and shaking, Clio +finally screamed wildly, hysterically, as she was being strapped down +upon a laboratory bench; and at the sound Costigan's nerves, already at +the breaking point, gave way in an outburst of berserk fury. + +The man's struggles and the girl's shrieks were alike futile, but the +surprised Nevians, after a consultation, decided to give the specimens +a vacation. To that end they were installed, together with their Earthly +belongings, in a three-roomed structure of transparent metal, floating +in the large central lagoon of the city. There they were left +undisturbed for a time--undisturbed, that is, except by the continuous +gaze of the crowd of hundreds of amphibians which constantly surrounded +the floating cottage. + +"First we're bugs under a microscope," Bradley growled, "then we're +goldfish in a bowl. I don't know that...." + +He broke off as two of their jailers entered the room. Without a word +into the transformers they seized Bradley and Clio. As those tentacular +arms stretched out toward the girl, Costigan leaped. A vain attempt. In +midair the paralyzing beam of the Nevians touched him and he crashed +heavily to the crystal floor; and from that floor he looked on in +helpless, raging fury while his sweetheart and his captain were carried +out of their prison and into a waiting submarine. + + + + +CHAPTER 16 + +SUPER-SHIP IN ACTION + + +Doctor Frederick Rodebush sat at the control panel of Triplanetary's +newly reconstructed super-ship; one finger poised over a small black +button. Facing the unknown though the physicist was, yet he grinned +whimsically at his friend. + +"Something, whatever it is, is about to occur. The _Boise_ is about to +take off. Ready, Cleve?" + +"Shoot!" laconically. Cleveland also was constitutionally unable to +voice his deeper sentiments in time of stress. + +Rodebush drove his finger down, and instantly over both men there came a +sensation akin to a tremendously intensified vertigo; but a vertigo as +far beyond the space-sickness of weightlessness as that horrible +sensation is beyond mere Earthly dizziness. The pilot reached weakly +toward the board, but his leaden hands refused utterly to obey the +dictates of his reeling mind. His brain was a writhing, convulsive mass +of torment indescribable; expanding, exploding, swelling out with an +unendurable pressure against its confining skull. Fiery spirals, laced +with streaming, darting lances of black and green, flamed inside his +bursting eyeballs. The Universe spun and whirled in mad gyrations about +him as he reeled drunkenly to his feet, staggering and sprawling. He +fell. He realized that he was falling, yet he could not fall! Thrashing +wildly, grotesquely in agony, he struggled madly and blindly across the +room, directly toward the thick steel wall. The tip of one hair of his +unruly thatch touched the wall, and the slim length of that single hair +did not even bend as its slight strength brought to an instant halt the +hundred-and-eighty-odd pounds of mass--mass now entirely without +inertia--that was his body. + +But finally the sheer brain power of the man began to triumph over his +physical torture. By force of will he compelled his grasping hands to +seize a life-line, almost meaningless to his dazed intelligence; and +through that nightmare incarnate of hellish torture he fought his way +back to the control board. Hooking one leg around a standard, he made a +seemingly enormous effort and depressed a red button; then fell flat +upon the floor, weakly but in a wave of relief and thankfulness, as his +racked body felt again the wonted phenomena of weight and of inertia. +White, trembling, frankly and openly sick, the two men stared at each +other in half-amazed joy. + +"It worked," Cleveland smiled wanly as he recovered sufficiently to +speak, then leaped to his feet. "Snap it up, Fred! We must be falling +fast--we'll be wrecked when we hit!" + +"We're not falling anywhere." Rodebush, foreboding in his eyes, walked +over to the main observation plate and scanned the heavens. "However, +it's not as bad as I was afraid it might be. I can still recognize a few +of the constellations, even though they are all pretty badly distorted. +That means that we can't be more than a couple of light-years or so away +from the Solar System. Of course, since we had so little thrust on, +practically all of our energy and time was taken up in getting out of +the atmosphere. Even at that, though, it's a good thing that space isn't +a perfect vacuum, or we would have been clear out of the Universe by +this time." + +"Huh? What are you talking about? Impossible! Where are we, anyway? Then +we must be making mil.... Oh, I see!" Cleveland exclaimed, somewhat +incoherently, as he also stared into the plate. + +"Right. We aren't traveling at all--_now_." Rodebush replied. "We are +perfectly stationary relative to Tellus, since we made that hop without +inertia. We must have attained one hundred percent neutralization--one +hundred point oh oh oh oh oh--which we didn't quite expect. Therefore we +must have stopped instantaneously when our inertia was restored. +Incidentally, that original, pre-inertialess velocity 'intrinsic' +velocity, suppose we could call it?--is going to introduce plenty of +complications, but we don't have to worry about them right now. Also, it +isn't _where_ we are that is worrying me--we can get fixes on enough +recognizable stars to find that out in short order--it's _when_." + +"That's right, too. Say we're two light years away from home. You think +maybe that we're two years older now than we were ten minutes ago? +Interesting no end--and distinctly possible. Maybe even probable--I +wouldn't know--there's been a lot of discussion on that theory, and as +far as I know we're the first ones who ever had a chance to prove or +disprove it absolutely. Let's snap back to Tellus and find out, right +now." + +"We'll do that, after a little more experimenting. You see, I had no +intention of giving us such a long push. I was going to throw the +switches in and out, but you know what happened. However, there's one +good thing about it--it's worth two years of anybody's life to settle +that relativity-time thing definitely, one way or the other." + +"I'll say it is. But say, we've got a lot of power on our ultra-wave; +enough to reach Tellus, I think. Let's locate the sun and get in touch +with Samms." + +"Let's work on these controls a little first, so we'll have something to +report. Out here's a fine place to try the ship out--nothing in the +way." + +"All right with me. But I _would_ like to find out whether I'm two years +older than I think I am, or not!" + +Then for four hours they put the great super-ship through her paces, +just as test-pilots check up on every detail of performance of an +airplane of new and radical design. They found that the horrible vertigo +could be endured, perhaps in time even conquered as space-sickness could +be conquered, by a strong will in a sound body; and that their new +conveyance had possibilities of which even Rodebush had never dreamed. +Finally, their most pressing questions answered, they turned their most +powerful ultra-beam communicator toward the yellowish star which they +knew to be Old Sol. + +"Samms ... Samms." Cleveland spoke slowly and distinctly. "Rodebush and +Cleveland reporting from the 'Space-Eating Wampus', now directly in line +with Beta Ursae Minoris from the sun, distance about two point two light +years. It will take six bands of tubes on your tightest beam, LSV3, to +reach us. Barring a touch of an unusually severe type of space-sickness, +everything worked beautifully; even better than either of us dared to +believe. There's something we want to know right away--have we been gone +four hours and some odd minutes, or better than two years?" + +He turned to Rodebush and went on: + +"Nobody knows how fast this ultra-wave travels, but if it goes as fast +as we did coming out it's no creeper. I'll give him about thirty +minutes, then shoot in another...." + +But, interrupting Cleveland's remark, the care-ravaged face of Virgil +Samms appeared sharp and clear upon the plate and his voice snapped +curtly from the speaker. + +"Thank God you're alive, and twice that that the ship works!" he +exclaimed. "You've been gone four hours, eleven minutes, and forty one +seconds, but never mind about abstract theorizing. Get back here, to +Pittsburgh, as fast as you can drive. That Nevian vessel or another one +like her is mopping up the city, and has destroyed half the Fleet +already!" + +"We'll be back there in nine minutes!" Rodebush snapped into the +transmitter. "Two to get from here to atmosphere, four from Atmosphere +down to the Hill, and three to cool off. Notify the full four-shift +crew--everybody we've picked out. Don't need anybody else. Ship, +equipment, and armament are _ready_!" + +"Two minutes to atmosphere? Think you can do it?" Cleveland asked, as +Rodebush flipped off the power and leaped to the control panel. "You +might, though, at that." + +"We could do it in less than that if we had to. We used scarcely any +power at all coming out, and I'm going to use quite a lot going back," +the physicist explained rapidly, as he set the dials which would +determine their flashing course. + +The master switches were thrown and the pangs of inertialessness again +assailed them--but weaker far this time than ever before--and upon their +lookout plates they beheld a spectacle never before seen by eye of man. +For the ultra-beam, with its heterodyned vision, is not distorted by any +velocity yet attained, as are the ether-borne rays of light. Converted +into light only at the plate, it showed their progress as truly as +though they had been traveling at a pace to be expressed in the ordinary +terms of miles per hour. The yellow star that was the sun detached +itself from the firmament and leaped toward them, swelling visibly, +momently, into a blinding monster of incandescence. And toward them also +flung the Earth, enlarging with such indescribable rapidity that +Cleveland protested involuntarily, in spite of his knowledge of the +peculiar mechanics of the vessel in which they were. + +"Hold it, Fred, hold it! Way 'nuff!" he exclaimed. + +"I'm using only a few thousand kilograms of thrust, and I'll cut that as +soon as we touch atmosphere, long before she can even begin to heat," +Rodebush explained. "Looks bad, but we'll stop without a jar." + +"What would you call this kind of flight, Fritz?" Cleveland asked. +"What's the opposite of 'inert'?" + +"Damned if I know. Isn't any, I guess. Light? No ... how would 'free' +be?" + +"Not bad. 'Free' and 'Inert' maneuvering, eh? O.K." + +Flying "free", then, the super-ship came from her practically infinite +velocity to an almost instantaneous halt in the outermost, most tenuous +layer of the Earth's atmosphere. Her halt was but momentary. Inertia +restored, she dropped at a sharp angle downward. More than dropped; she +was forced downward by one full battery of projectors; projectors driven +by iron-powered generators. Soon they were over the Hill, whose violet +screens went down at a word. + +Flaming a dazzling white from the friction of the atmosphere through +which she had torn her way, the _Boise_ slowed abruptly as she neared +the ground, plunging toward the surface of the small but deep artificial +lake below the Hill's steel apron. Into the cold waters the space-ship +dove, and even before they could close over her, furious geysers of +steam and boiling water erupted as the stubborn alloy gave up its heat +to the cooling liquid. Endlessly the three necessary minutes dragged +their slow way into time, but finally the water ceased boiling and +Rodebush tore the ship from the lake and hurled her into the gaping +doorway of her dock. The massive doors of the airlocks opened, and while +the full crew of picked men hurried aboard with their personal +equipment, Samms talked earnestly to the two scientists in the control +room. + +"... and about half the fleet is still in the air. They aren't +attacking; they are just trying to keep her from doing much more damage +until you can get there. How about your take-off? We can't launch you +again--the tracks are gone--but you handled her easily enough coming +in?" + +"That was all my fault," Rodebush admitted. "I had no idea that the +fields would extend beyond the hull. We'll take her out on the +projectors this time, though, the same as we brought her in--she handles +like a bicycle. The projector blast tears things up a little, but +nothing serious. Have you got that Pittsburgh beam for me yet? We're +about ready to go." + +"Here it is, Doctor Rodebush," came Norma's voice, and upon the screen +there flashed into being the view of the events transpiring above that +doomed city. "The dock is empty and sealed against your blast." + +"Goodbye, and power to your tubes!" came Samms' ringing voice. + +As the words were being spoken mighty blasts of power raved from the +driving projectors, and the immense mass of the super-ship shot out +through the portals and upward into the stratosphere. Through the +tenuous atmosphere the huge globe rushed with ever-mounting speed, and +while the hope of Triplanetary drove eastward Rodebush studied the +ever-changing scene of battle upon his plate and issued detailed +instructions to the highly trained specialists manning every offensive +and defensive weapon. + +But the Nevians did not wait to join battle until the newcomers arrived. +Their detectors were sensitive--operative over untold thousands of +miles--and the ultra-screen of the Hill had already been noted by the +invaders as the Earth's only possible source of trouble. Thus the +departure of the _Boise_ had not gone unnoticed, and the fact that not +even with his most penetrant rays could he see into her interior had +already given the Nevian commander some slight concern. Therefore as +soon as it was determined that the great globe was being directed toward +Pittsburgh the fish-shaped cruiser of the void went into action. + +High in the stratosphere, speeding eastward, the immense mass of the +_Boise_ slowed abruptly, although no projector had slackened its effort. +Cleveland, eyes upon interferometer grating and spectrophotometer +charts, fingers flying over calculator keys, grinned as he turned toward +Rodebush. + +"Just as you thought, Skipper; an ultra-band pusher. C4V63L29. Shall I +give him a little pull?" + +"Not yet; let's feel him out a little before we force a close-up. We've +got plenty of mass. See what he does when I put full push on the +projectors." + +As the full power of the Tellurian vessel was applied the Nevian was +forced backward, away from the threatened city, against the full drive +of her every projector. Soon, however, the advance was again checked, +and both scientists read the reason upon their plates. The enemy had put +down reenforcing rods of tremendous power. Three compression members +spread out fanwise behind her, bracing her against a low mountainside, +while one huge tractor beam was thrust directly downward, holding in an +unbreakable grip a cylinder of earth extending deep down into bedrock. + +"Two can play at that game!" and Rodebush drove down similar beams, and +forward-reaching tractors as well. "Strap yourselves in solid, +everybody!" he sounded in general warning. "Something is going to give +way somewhere soon, and when it does we'll get a jolt!" + +And the promised jolt did indeed come soon. Prodigiously massive and +powerful as the Nevian was, the _Boise_ was even more massive and more +powerful; and as the already enormous energy feeding the tractors, +pushers, and projectors was raised to its inconceivable maximum, the +vessel of the enemy was hurled upward, backward; and that of Earth shot +ahead with a bounding leap that threatened to strain even her mighty +members. The Nevian anchor rods had not broken; they had simply pulled +up the vast cylinders of solid rock that had formed their anchorages. + +"Grab him now!" Rodebush yelled, and even while an avalanche of falling +rock was burying the countryside Cleveland snapped a tractor ray upon +the flying fish and pulled tentatively. + +Nor did the Nevian now seem averse to coming to grips. The two warring +super-dreadnoughts darted toward each other, and from the invader there +flooded out the dread crimson opacity which had theretofore meant the +doom of all things Solarian. Flooded out and engulfed the immense globe +of humanity's hope in its spreading cloud of redly impenetrable murk. +But not for long. Triplanetary's super-ship boasted no ordinary +Terrestrial defense, but was sheathed in screen after screen of +ultra-vibrations: imponderable walls, it is true, but barriers +impenetrable to any unfriendly wave. To the outer screen the red veil of +the Nevians clung tenaciously, licking greedily at every square inch of +the shielding sphere of force, but unable to find an opening through +which to feed upon the steel of the _Boise's_ armor. + +"Get back--'way back! Go back and help Pittsburgh!" Rodebush drove an +ultra communicator beam through the murk to the instruments of the +Terrestrial admiral; for the surviving warships of the fleet--its most +powerful units--were hurling themselves forward, to plunge into that red +destruction. "None of you will last a second in this red field. And +watch out for a violet field pretty soon--it'll be worse than this. We +can handle them alone, I think; but if we can't, there's nothing in the +System that can help us!" + +And now the hitherto passive screen of the super-ship became active. At +first invisible, it began to glow in fierce violet light, and as the +glow brightened to unbearable intensity the entire spherical shield +began to increase in size. Driven outward from the super-ship as a +center, its advancing surface of seething energy consumed the crimson +murk as a billow of blast-furnace heat consumes the cloud of snowflakes +in the air above its cupola. Nor was the red death-mist all that was +consumed. Between that ravening surface and the armor skin of the +_Boise_ there was nothing. No debris, no atmosphere, no vapor, no single +atom of material substance--the first time in Terrestrial experience +that an absolute vacuum had ever been attained! + +Stubbornly contesting every foot of way lost, the Nevian fog retreated +before the violet sphere of nothingness. Back and back it fell, +disappearing altogether from all space as the violet tide engulfed the +enemy vessel; but the flying fish did not disappear. Her triple screens +flashed into furiously incandescent splendor and she entered unscathed +that vacuous sphere, which collapsed instantly into an enormously +elongated ellipsoid, at each focus a madly warring ship of space. + +Then in that tube of vacuum was waged a spectacular duel of +ultra-weapons--weapons impotent in air, but deadly in empty space. +Beams, rays, and rods of Titanic power smote crackingly against +ultra-screens equally capable. Time after time each contestant ran the +gamut of the spectrum with his every available ultra-force, only to find +all channels closed. For minutes the terrible struggle went on, then: + +"Cooper, Adlington, Spencer, Dutton!" Rodebush called into his +transmitter. "Ready? Can't touch him on the ultra, so I'm going onto the +macro-bands. Give him everything you have as soon as I collapse the +violet. Go!" + +At the word the violet barrier went down, and with a crash as of a +disrupting Universe the atmosphere rushed into the void. And through the +hurricane there shot out the deadliest material weapons of Triplanetary. +Torpedoes--non-ferrous, ultra-screened, beam-dirigible torpedoes charged +with the most effective forms of material destruction known to man. +Cooper hurled his canisters of penetrating gas, Adlington his +allotropic-iron atomic bombs, Spencer his indestructible armor-piercing +projectiles, and Dutton his shatterable flasks of the quintessence of +corrosion--a sticky, tacky liquid of such dire potency that only one +rare Solarian element could contain it. Ten, twenty, fifty, a hundred +were thrown as fast as the automatic machinery could launch them; and +the Nevians found them adversaries not to be despised. Size for size, +their screens were quite as capable as those of the _Boise_. The +Nevians' destructive rays glanced harmlessly from their shields, and the +Nevians' elaborate screens, neutralized at impact by those of the +torpedoes, were impotent to impede their progress. Each projectile must +needs be caught and crushed individually by beams of the most prodigious +power; and while one was being annihilated dozens more were rushing to +the attack. Then while the twisting, dodging invader was busiest with +the tiny but relentless destroyers, Rodebush launched his heaviest +weapon. + +The macro-beams! Prodigious streamers of bluish-green flame which tore +savagely through course after course of Nevian screen! Malevolent fangs, +driven with such power and velocity that they were biting into the very +walls of the enemy vessel before the amphibians knew that their +defensive shells of force had been punctured! And the emergency screens +of the invaders were equally futile. Course after course was sent out, +only to flare viciously through the spectrum and to go black. + +Outfought at every turn, the now frantically dodging Nevian leaped away +in headlong flight, only to be brought to a staggering, crashing halt as +Cleveland nailed her with a tractor beam. But the Tellurians were to +learn that the Nevians held in reserve a means of retreat. The tractor +snapped--sheared off squarely by a sizzling plane of force--and the +fish-shaped cruiser faded from Cleveland's sight, just as the _Boise_ +had disappeared from the communicator plates of Radio Center, back in +the Hill, when she was launched. But though the plates in the control +room could not hold the Nevian, she did not vanish beyond the ken of +Randolph, now Communications Officer in the super-ship. For, warned and +humiliated by his losing one speeding vessel from his plates in Radio +Center, he was now ready for any emergency. Therefore as the Nevian fled +Randolph's spy-ray held her, automatically behind it as there was the +full output of twelve special banks of iron-driven power tubes; and thus +it was that the vengeful Earthmen flashed immediately along the Nevians' +line of flight. Inertialess now, pausing briefly from time to time to +enable the crew to accustom themselves to the new sensations, +Triplanetary's super-ship pursued the invader; hurtling through the void +with a velocity unthinkable. + +"He was easier to take than I thought he would be," Cleveland grunted, +staring into the plate. + +"I thought he had more stuff, too," Rodebush assented, "but I guess +Costigan got almost everything they had. If so, with all our own stuff +and most of theirs besides, we should be able to take them. Conway's +data indicated that they have only partial neutralization of inertia--if +it's one hundred percent we'll never catch them--but it isn't--there +they are!" + +"And this time I'm going to hold her or burn out all our generators +trying," Cleveland declared, grimly. "Are you fellows down there able to +handle yourselves yet? Fine! Start throwing out your cans!" + +Space-hardened veterans, all, the other Tellurian officers had fought +off the horrible nausea of inertialessness, just as Rodebush and +Cleveland had done. Again the ravening green macro-beams tore at the +flying cruiser, again the mighty frames of the two space-ships shuddered +sickeningly as Cleveland clamped on his tractor rod, again the highly +dirigible torpedoes dashed out with their freights of death and +destruction. And again the Nevian shear-plane of force slashed at the +_Boise's_ tractor beam; but this time the mighty puller did not give +way. Sparkling and spitting high-tension sparks, the plane bit deeply +into the stubborn rod of energy. Brighter, thicker, and longer grew the +discharges as the gnawing plane drew more and more power; but in direct +ratio to that power the rod grew larger, denser, and ever harder to cut. +More and more vivid became the pyrotechnic display, until suddenly the +entire tractor rod disappeared. At the same instant a blast of +intolerable flame erupted from the _Boise's_ flank and the whole +enormous fabric of her shook and quivered under the force of a terrific +detonation. + +"Randolph! I don't see them! Are they attacking or running?" Rodebush +demanded. He was the first to realize what had happened. + +"Running--fast!" + +"Just as well, perhaps, but get their line. Adlington!" + +"Here!" + +"Good! Was afraid you were gone--that was one of your bombs, wasn't it?" + +"Yes. Well launched, just inside the screens. Don't see how it could +have detonated unless something hot and hard struck it in the tube; it +would need about that much time to explode. Good thing it didn't go off +any sooner, or none of us would have been here. As it is, Area Six is +pretty well done in, but the bulkheads held the damage to Six. What +happened?" + +"We don't know, exactly. Both generators on the tractor beam went out. +At first, I thought that was all, but my neutralizers are dead and I +don't know what else. When the G-4's went out the fusion must have +shorted the neutralizers. They would make a mess; it must have burned a +hole down into number six tube. Cleveland and I will come down, and +we'll all look around." + +Donning space-suits, the scientists let themselves into the damaged +compartment through the emergency airlocks, and what a sight they saw! +Both outer and inner walls of alloy armor had been blown away by the +awful force of the explosion. Jagged plates hung awry; bent, twisted and +broken. The great torpedo tube, with all its intricate automatic +machinery, had been driven violently backward and lay piled in hideous +confusion against the backing bulkheads. Practically nothing remained +whole in the entire compartment. + +"Nothing much we can do here," Rodebush said finally, through his +transmitter. "Let's go see what number four generator looks like." + +That room, although not affected by the explosion from without, had been +quite as effectively wrecked from within. It was still stiflingly hot; +its air was still reeking with the stench of burning lubricant, +insulation, and metal; its floor was half covered by a semi-molten mass +of what had once been vital machinery. For with the burning out of the +generator bars the energy of the disintegrating allotropic iron had had +no outlet, and had built up until it had broken through its insulation +and in an irresistible flood of power had torn through all obstacles in +its path to neutralization. + +"Hm ... m ... m. Should have had an automatic shut-off--one detail we +overlooked," Rodebush mused. "The electricians can rebuild this stuff +here, though--that hole in the hull is something else again." + +"I'll say it's something else," the grizzled Chief Engineer agreed. +"She's lost all her spherical strength--anchoring a tractor with this +ship now would turn her inside out. Back to the nearest Triplanetary +shop for us, I would say." + +"Come again, Chief!" Cleveland advised the engineer. "None of us would +live long enough to get there. We can't travel inertialess until the +repairs are made, so if they can't be made without very much traveling, +it's just too bad." + +"I don't see how we could support our jacks ..." the engineer paused, +then went on: "If you can't give me Mars or Tellus, how about some +other planet? I don't care about atmosphere, or about anything but mass. +I can stiffen her up in three or four days if I can sit down on +something heavy enough to hold our jacks and presses; but if we have to +rig up space-cradles around the ship herself it'll take a long +time--months, probably. Haven't got a spare planet on hand, have you?" + +"We might have, at that," Rodebush made surprising answer. "A couple of +seconds before we engaged we were heading toward a sun with at least two +planets. I was just getting ready to dodge them when we cut the +neutralizers, so they should be fairly close somewhere--yes, there's the +sun, right over there. Rather pale and small; but it's close, +comparatively speaking. We'll go back up into the control room and find +out about the planets." + +The strange sun was found to have three large and easily located +children, and observation showed that the crippled space-ship could +reach the nearest of these in about five days. Power was therefore fed +to the driving projectors, and each scientist, electrician, and mechanic +bent to the task of repairing the ruined generators; rebuilding them to +handle any load which the converters could possibly put upon them. For +two days the _Boise_ drove on, then her acceleration was reversed, and +finally a landing was effected upon the forbidding, rocky soil of the +strange world. + +It was larger than the Earth, and of a somewhat stronger gravitation. +Although its climate was bitterly cold, even in its short daytime, it +supported a luxuriant but outlandish vegetation. Its atmosphere, while +rich enough in oxygen and not really poisonous, was so rank with +indescribably fetid vapors as to be scarcely breatheable. But these +things bothered the engineers not at all. Paying no attention to +temperature or to scenery and without waiting for chemical analysis of +the air, the space-suited mechanics leaped to their tasks; and in only a +little more time than had been mentioned by the chief engineer the hull +and giant frame of the super-ship were as staunch as of yore. + +"All right, Skipper!" came finally the welcome word. "You might try her +out with a fast hop around this world before you shove off in earnest." + +Under the fierce blast of her projectors the vessel leaped ahead, and +time after time, as Rodebush hurled her mass upon tractor beam or +pressor, the engineers sought in vain for any sign of weakness. The +strange planet half girdled and the severest tests passed flawlessly, +Rodebush reached for his neutralizer switches. Reached and paused, +dumbfounded, for a brilliant purple light had sprung into being upon his +panel and a bell rang out insistently. + +"What the hell!" Rodebush shot out an exploring beam along the detector +line and gasped. He stared, mouth open, then yelled: + +"_Roger_ is here, rebuilding his planetoid! STATIONS ALL!" + + + + +CHAPTER 17 + +ROGER CARRIES ON + + +As has been intimated, gray Roger did not perish in the floods of Nevian +energy which destroyed his planetoid. While those terrific streamers of +force emanating from the crimson obscurity surrounding the amphibians' +space-ship were driving into his defensive screens he sat impassive and +immobile at his desk, his hard gray eyes moving methodically over his +instruments and recorders. + +When the clinging mantle of force changed from deep red into shorter and +even shorter wave-lengths, however: + +"Baxter, Hartkopf, Chatelier, Anandrusung, Penrose, Nishimura, Mirsky +..." he called off a list of names. "Report to me here at once!" + +"The planetoid is lost," he informed his select group of scientists when +they had assembled, "and we must abandon it in exactly fifteen minutes, +which will be the time required for the robots to fill this first +section with our most necessary machinery and instruments. Pack each of +you one box of the things he most wishes to take with him, and report +back here in not more than thirteen minutes. Say nothing to anyone +else." + +They filed out calmly, and as they passed out into the hall Baxter, +perhaps a trifle less case-hardened than his fellows, at least voiced a +thought for those they were so brutally deserting. + +"I say, it seems a bit thick to dash off this way and leave the rest of +them; but still, I suppose...." + +"You suppose correctly." Bland and heartless Nishimura filled in the +pause. "A small part of the planetoid may be able to escape; which, to +me at least, is pleasantly surprising news. It cannot carry all our men +and mechanisms, therefore only the most important of both are saved. +What would you? For the rest it is simply what you call 'the fortune of +war,' no?" + +"But the beautiful ..." began the amorous Chatelier. + +"Hush, fool!" snorted Hartkopf. "One word of that to the ear of Roger +and you too left behind are. Of such non-essentials the Universe full +is, to be collected in times of ease, but in times hard to be +disregarded. Und this is a time of _schrecklichkeit_ indeed!" + +The group broke up, each man going to his own quarters; to meet again in +the First Section a minute or so before the zero time. Roger's "office" +was now packed so tightly with machinery and supplies that but little +room was left for the scientists. The gray monstrosity still sat unmoved +behind his dials. + +"But of what use is it, Roger?" the Russian physicist demanded. "Those +waves are of some ultra-band, of a frequency immensely higher than +anything heretofore known. Our screens should not have stopped them for +an instant. It is a mystery that they have held so long, and certainly +this single section will not be permitted to leave the planetoid without +being destroyed." + +"There are many things you do not know, Mirsky," came the cold and level +answer. "Our screens, which you think are of your own devising, have +several improvements of my own in the formulae, and would hold forever +had I the power to drive them. The screens of this section, being +smaller, can be held as long as will be found necessary." + +"Power!" the dumbfounded Russian exclaimed. "Why, we have almost +infinite power--unlimited--sufficient for a lifetime of high +expenditure!" + +But Roger made no reply, for the time of departure was at hand. He +pressed down a tiny lever, and a mechanism in the power room threw in +the gigantic plunger switches which launched against the Nevians the +stupendous beam which so upset the complacence of Nerado the +amphibian--the beam into which was poured recklessly every resource of +power afforded by the planetoid, careless alike of burnout and of +exhaustion. Then, while all of the attention of the Nevians and +practically all of their maximum possible power output was being devoted +to the neutralization of that last desperate thrust, the metal wall of +the planetoid opened and the First Section shot out into space. +Full-driven as they were, Roger's screens flared white as he drove +through the temporarily lessened attack of the Nevians; but in their +preoccupation the amphibians did not notice the additional disturbance +and the section tore on, unobserved and undetected. + +Far out in space, Roger raised his eyes from the instrument panel and +continued the conversation as though it had not been interrupted. + +"Everything is relative, Mirsky, and you have misused gravely the term +'unlimited.' Our power was, and is, very definitely limited. True, it +then seemed ample for our needs, and is far superior to that possessed +by the inhabitants of any solar system with which I am familiar; but the +beings behind that red screen, whoever they are, have sources of power +as far above ours as ours are above those of the Solarians." + +"How do you know?" + +"That power, what is it?" + +"We have, then, the analyses of those fields recorded!" came +simultaneous questions and exclamations. + +"Their source of power is the intra-atomic energy of iron. Complete; not +the partial liberation incidental to the nuclear fission of such +unstable isotopes as those of thorium, uranium, plutonium, and so on. +Therefore much remains to be done before I can proceed with my plan--I +must have the most powerful structure in the macrocosmic universe." + +Roger thought for minutes, nor did any one of his minions break the +silence. Gharlane of Eddore did not have to wonder why such incredible +advancement could have been made without his knowledge: after the fact, +he knew. He had been and was still being hampered by a mind of power; a +mind with which, in due time, he would come to grips. + +"I now know what to do," he went on presently. "In the light of what I +have learned, the losses of time, life, and treasure--even the loss of +the planetoid--are completely insignificant." + +"But what can you do about it?" growled the Russian. + +"Many things. From the charts of the recorders we can compute their +fields of force, and from that point it is only a step to their method +of liberating the energy. We shall build robots. They shall build other +robots, who shall in turn construct another planetoid; one this time +that, wielding the theoretical maximum of power, will be suited to my +needs." + +"And where will you build it? We are marked. Invisibility now is +useless. Triplanetary will find us, even if we take up an orbit beyond +that of Pluto!" + +"We have already left your Solarian system far behind. We are going to +another system; one far enough removed so that the spy-rays of +Triplanetary will never find us, and yet one that we can reach in a +reasonable length of time with the energies at our command. Some five +days will be required for the journey, however, and our quarters are +cramped. Therefore make places for yourselves wherever you can, and +lessen the tedium of those days by working upon whatever problems are +most pressing in your respective researches." + +The gray monster fell silent, immersed in what thoughts no one knew, and +the scientists set out to obey his orders. Baxter, the British chemist, +followed Penrose, the lantern-jawed, saturnine American engineer and +inventor, as he made his way to the furthermost cubicle of the section. + +"I say, Penrose, I'd like to ask you a couple of questions, if you don't +mind?" + +"Go ahead. Ordinarily it's dangerous to be a cackling hen anywhere +around _him_, but I don't imagine that he can hear anything here now. +His system must be pretty well shot to pieces. You want to know all I +know about Roger?" + +"Exactly so. You have been with him so much longer than I have, you +know. In some ways he impresses one as being scarcely human, if you know +what I mean. Ridiculous, of course, but of late I have been wondering +whether he really _is_ human. He knows too much, about too many things. +He seems to be acquainted with many solar systems, to visit which would +require lifetimes. Then, too, he has dropped remarks which would imply +that he actually saw things that happened long before any living man +could possibly have been born. Finally, he looks--well, peculiar--and +certainly does not act human. I have been wondering, and have been able +to learn nothing about him; as you have said, such talk as this aboard +the planetoid was not advisable." + +"You needn't worry about being paid your price; that's one thing. If we +live--and that was part of the agreement, you know--we will get what we +sold out for. You will become a belted earl. I have already made +millions, and shall make many more. Similarly, Chatelier has had and +will have his women, Anandrusung and Nishimura their cherished revenges, +Hartkopf his power, and so on." He eyed the other speculatively, then +went on: + +"I might as well spill it all, since I'll never have a better chance and +since you should know as much as the rest of us do. You're in the same +boat with us and tarred with the same brush. There's a lot of gossip, +that may or may not be true, but I know one very startling fact. Here it +is. My great-great-grandfather left some notes which, taken in +connection with certain things I myself saw on the planetoid, prove +beyond question that our Roger went to Harvard University at the same +time he did. Roger was a grown man then, and the elder Penrose noted +that he was marked, like this," and the American sketched a cabalistic +design. + +"What!" Baxter exclaimed. "An adept of North Polar Jupiter--_then_?" + +"Yes. That was before the First Jovian War, you know, and it was those +medicine-men--really high-caliber scientists--that prolonged that war +so...." + +"But I say, Penrose, that's really a bit thick. When they were wiped out +it was proved a lot of hocus-pocus...." + +"_If_ they were wiped out," Penrose interrupted in turn. "Some of it may +have been hocus-pocus, but most of it certainly was not. I'm not asking +you to believe anything except that one fact; I'm just telling you the +rest of it. But it is also a fact that those adepts knew things and did +things that take a lot of explaining. Now for the gossip, none of which +is guaranteed. Roger is supposed to be of Tellurian parentage, and the +story is that his father was a moon-pirate, his mother a Greek +adventuress. When the pirates were chased off the moon they went to +Ganymede, you know, and some of them were captured by the Jovians. It +seems that Roger was born at an instant of time sacred to the adepts, so +they took him on. He worked his way up through the Forbidden Society as +all adepts did, by various kinds of murder and job lots of assorted +deviltries, until he got clear to the top--the seventy-seventh +mystery...." + +"The secret of eternal youth!" gasped Baxter, awed in spite of himself. + +"Right, and he stayed Chief Devil, in spite of all the efforts of all +his ambitious sub-devils to kill him, until the turning-point of the +First Jovian War. He cut away then in a space-ship, and ever since then +he has been working--and working hard--on some stupendous plan of his +own that nobody else has ever got even an inkling of. That's the story. +True or not, it explains a lot of things that no other theory can touch. +And now I think you'd better shuffle along; enough of this is a great +plenty!" + +Baxter went to his own cubby, and each man of gray Roger's cold-blooded +crew methodically took up his task. True to prediction, in five days a +planet loomed beneath them and their vessel settled through a reeking +atmosphere toward a rocky and forbidding plain. Then for hours they +plunged along, a few thousand feet above the surface of that strange +world, while Roger with his analytical detectors sought the most +favorable location from which to wrest the materials necessary for his +program of construction. + +It was a world of cold; its sun was distant, pale, and wan. It had +monstrous forms of vegetation, of which each branch and member writhed +and fought with a grotesque and horrible individual activity. Ever and +anon a struggling part broke from its parent plant and darted away in +independent existence; leaping upon and consuming or being consumed by a +fellow creature equally monstrous. This flora was of a uniform color, a +lurid, sickly yellow. In form some of it was fern-like, some +cactus-like, some vaguely tree-like; but it was all outrageous, +inherently repulsive to all Solarian senses. And no less hideous were +the animal-like forms of life which slithered and slunk rapaciously +through that fantastic pseudo-vegetation. Snake-like, reptile-like, +bat-like, the creatures squirmed, crawled, and flew; each covered with a +dankly oozing yellow hide and each motivated by twin common impulses--to +kill and insatiably and indiscriminately to devour. Over this reeking +wilderness Roger drove his vessel, untouched by its disgusting, its +appalling ferocity and horror. + +"There should be intelligence, of a kind," he mused, and swept the +surface of the planet with an exploring beam. "Ah, yes, there is a city, +of sorts," and in a few minutes the outlaws were looking down upon a +metal-walled city of roundly conical buildings. + +Inside these structures and between and around them there scuttled +formless blobs of matter, one of which Roger brought up into his vessel +by means of a tractor. Held immovable by the beam it lay upon the floor, +a strangely extensile, amoeba-like, metal-studded mass of leathery +substance. Of eyes, ears, limbs, or organs it apparently had none, yet +it radiated an intensely hostile aura; a mental effluvium concentrated +of rage and of hatred. + +"Apparently the ruling intelligence of the planet," Roger commented. +"Such creatures are useless to us; we can build machines in half the +time that would be required for their subjugation and training. Still, +it should not be permitted to carry back what it may have learned of +us." As he spoke the adept threw the peculiar being out into the air and +dispassionately rayed it out of existence. + +"That thing reminds me of a man I used to know, back in Penobscot." +Penrose was as coldly callous as his unfeeling master. "The +evenest-tempered man in town--mad all the time!" + +Eventually Roger found a location which satisfied his requirements of +raw materials, and made a landing upon that unfriendly soil. Sweeping +beams denuded a great circle of life, and into that circle leaped +robots. Robots requiring neither rest nor food, but only lubricants and +power; robots insensible alike to that bitter cold and to that noxious +atmosphere. + +But the outlaws were not to win a foothold upon that inimical planet +easily, nor were they to hold it without effort. Through the weird +vegetation of the circle's bare edge there scuttled and poured along a +horde of the metal-studded men--if "men" they might be called--who, +ferocity incarnate, rushed the robot line. Mowed down by hundreds, still +they came on; willing, it seemed to spend any number of lives in order +that one living creature might once touch a robot with one outthrust +metallic stud. Whenever that happened there was a flash of lightning, +the heavy smoke of burning insulation, grease, and metal, and the robot +went down out of control. Recalling his remaining automatons, Roger sent +out a shielding screen, against which the defenders of their planet +raged in impotent fury. For days they hurled themselves and their every +force against that impenetrable barrier, then withdrew: temporarily +stopped, but by no means acknowledging defeat. + +Then while Roger and his cohorts directed affairs from within their +comfortable and now sufficiently roomy vessel, there came into being +around it an industrial city of metal peopled by metallic and insensate +mechanisms. Mines were sunk, furnaces were blown in, smelters belched +forth into the already unbearable air their sulphurous fumes, rolling +mills and machine shops were built and were equipped; and as fast as new +enterprises were completed additional robots were ready to man them. In +record time the heavy work of girders, members, and plates was well +under way; and shortly thereafter light, deft, multi-fingered mechanisms +began to build and to install the prodigious amount of precise machinery +required by the vastness of the structure. + +As soon as he was sure that he would be completely free for a +sufficient length of time, Roger-Gharlane assembled, boiled down and +concentrated, his every mental force. He probed then, very gently, for +whatever it was that had been and was still blocking him. He found +it--synchronized with it--and in the instant hurled against it the +fiercest thrust possible for his Eddorian mind to generate: a bolt whose +twin had slain more than one member of Eddore's Innermost Circle; a bolt +whose energies, he had previously felt sure, would slay any living thing +save only His Ultimate Supremacy, the All-Highest of Eddore. + +Now, however, and not completely to his surprise, that blast of force +was ineffective; and the instantaneous riposte was of such intensity as +to require for its parrying everything that Gharlane had. He parried it, +however barely, and directed a thought at his unknown opponent. + +"You, whoever you may be, have found out that you cannot kill me. No +more can I kill you. So be it. Do you still believe that you can keep me +from remembering whatever it was that my ancestor was compelled to +forget?" + +"Now that you have obtained a focal point we cannot prevent you from +remembering; and merely to hinder you would be pointless. You may +remember in peace." + +Back and back went Gharlane's mind. Centuries ... millenia ... cycles +... eons. The trace grew dim, almost imperceptible, deeply buried +beneath layer upon layer of accretions of knowledge, experience, and +sensation which no one of many hundreds of his ancestors had even so +much as disturbed. But every iota of knowledge that any of his +progenitors had ever had was still his. However dim, however deeply +buried, however suppressed and camouflaged by inimical force, he could +now find it. + +He found it, and in the instant of its finding it was as though +Enphilistor the Arisian spoke directly to him; as though the fused +Elders of Arisia tried--vainly now--to erase from his own mind all +knowledge of Arisia's existence. The fact that such a race as the +Arisians had existed so long ago was bad enough. That the Arisians had +been aware throughout all those ages of the Eddorians, and had been able +to keep their own existence secret, was worse. The crowning fact that +the Arisians had had all this time in which to work unopposed against +his own race made even Gharlane's indomitable ego quail. + +This was _important_. Such minor matters as the wiping out of +non-conforming cultures--the extraordinarily rapid growth of which was +now explained--must wait. Eddore must revise its thinking completely; +the pooled and integrated mind of the Innermost Circle must scrutinize +every fact, every implication and connotation, of this new-old +knowledge. Should he flash back to Eddore, or should he wait and take +the planetoid, with its highly varied and extremely valuable contents? +He would wait; a few moments more would be a completely negligible +addition to the eons of time which had already elapsed since action +should have been begun. + +The rebuilding of the planetoid, then, went on. Roger had no reason to +suspect that there was anything physically dangerous within hundreds of +millions of miles. Nevertheless, since he knew that he could no longer +depend upon his own mental powers to keep him informed as to all that +was going on around him, it was his custom to scan, from time to time, +all nearby space by means of ether-borne detectors. Thus it came about +that one day, as he sent out his beam, his hard gray eyes grew even +harder. + +"Mirsky! Nishimura! Penrose! Come here!" he ordered, and showed them +upon his plate an enormous sphere of steel, its offensive beams flaming +viciously. "Is there any doubt whatever in your minds as to the System +to which that ship belongs?" + +"None at all--Solarian," replied the Russian. "To narrow it still +further, Triplanetarian. While larger than any I have ever seen before, +its construction is unmistakable. They managed to trace us, and are +testing out their weapons before attacking. Do we attack or do we run +away?" + +"If Triplanetarian, and it surely is, we attack," coldly. "This one +section is armed and powered to defeat Triplanetary's entire navy. We +shall take that ship, and shall add its slight resources to our own. And +it may even be that they have picked up the three who escaped me ... I +have never been balked for long. Yes, we shall take that vessel. And +those three sooner or later. Except for the fact that their escape from +me is a matter which should be corrected, I care nothing whatever about +either Bradley or the woman. Costigan, however, is in a different +category ... Costigan _handled_ me...." Diamond-hard eyes glared +balefully at the urge of thoughts to a clean and normal mind +unthinkable. + +"To your posts," he ordered. "The machines will continue to function +under their automatic controls during the short time it will require to +abate this nuisance." + +"One moment!" A strange voice roared from the speakers. "Consider +yourselves under arrest, by order of the Triplanetary Council! Surrender +and you shall receive impartial hearing; fight us and you shall never +come to trial. From what we have learned of Roger, we do not expect him +to surrender, but if any of you other men wish to avoid immediate death, +leave your vessel at once. We will come back for you later." + +"Any of you wishing to leave this vessel have my full permission to do +so," Roger announced, disdaining any reply to the challenge of the +_Boise_. "Any such, however, will not be allowed inside the planetoid +area after the rest of us return from wiping out that patrol. We attack +in one minute." + +"Would not one do better by stopping on?" Baxter, in the quarters of the +American, was in doubt as to the most profitable course to pursue. "I +should leave immediately if I thought that that ship could win; but I do +not fancy that it can, do you?" + +"That ship? _One_ Triplanetary ship against _us_?" Penrose laughed +raucously. "Do as you please. I'd go in a minute if I thought that there +was any chance of us losing; but there isn't, so I'm staying. I know +which side _my_ bread's buttered on. Those cops are bluffing, that's +all. Not bluffing exactly, either, because they'll go through with it as +long as they last. Foolish, but it's a way they have--they'll die trying +every time instead of running away, even when they know they're licked +before they start. They don't use good judgment." + +"None of you are leaving? Very well, you each know what to do," came +Roger's emotionless voice. The stipulated minute having elapsed, he +advanced a lever and the outlaw cruiser slid quietly into the air. + +Toward the poised _Boise_ Roger steered. Within range, he flung out a +weapon new-learned and supposedly irresistible to any ferrous thing or +creature, the red converter-field of the Nevians. For Roger's analytical +detector had stood him in good stead during those frightful minutes in +the course of which the planetoid had borne the brunt of Nerado's +super-human attack; in such good stead that from the records of those +ingenious instruments he and his scientists had been able to reconstruct +not only the generators of the attacking forces, but also the screens +employed by the amphibians in the neutralization of similar beams. With +a vastly inferior armament the smallest of Roger's vessels had defeated +the most powerful battleships of Triplanetary; what had he to fear in +such a heavy craft as the one he now was driving, one so superlatively +armed and powered? It was just as well for his peace of mind that he had +no inkling that the harmless-looking sphere he was so blithely attacking +was in reality the much-discussed, half-mythical super-ship upon which +the Triplanetary Service had been at work so long; nor that its already +unprecedented armament had been reenforced, thanks to that hated +Costigan, with Roger's own every worthwhile idea, as well as with every +weapon and defense known to that arch-Nevian, Nerado! + +Unknowing and contemptuous, Roger launched his converter field, and +instantly found himself fighting for his very life. For from Rodebush at +the controls down, the men of the _Boise_ countered with wave after wave +and with salvo after salvo of vibratory and material destruction. No +thought of mercy for the men of the pirate ship could enter their minds. +The outlaws had each been given a chance to surrender, and each had +refused it. Refusing, they knew, as the Triplanetarians knew and as all +modern readers know, meant that they were staking their lives upon +victory. For with modern armaments few indeed are the men who live +through the defeat in battle of a war-vessel of space. + +Roger launched his field of red opacity, but it did not reach even the +_Boise's_ screens. All space seemed to explode into violet splendor as +Rodebush neutralized it, drove it back with his obliterating zone of +force; but even that all-devouring zone could not touch Roger's +peculiarly efficient screen. The outlaw vessel stood out, unharmed. +Ultra-violet, infra-red, pure heat, infra-sound, solid beams of +high-tension, high-frequency stuff in whose paths the most stubborn +metals would be volatilized instantly, all iron-driven; every deadly and +torturing vibration known was hurled against that screen: but it, too, +was iron-driven, and it held. Even the awful force of the macro-beam was +dissipated by it--reflected, hurled away on all sides in coruscating +torrents of blinding, dazzling energy. Cooper, Adlington, Spencer, and +Dutton hurled against it their bombs and torpedoes--and still it held. +But Roger's fiercest blasts and heaviest projectiles were equally +impotent against the force-shields of the super-ship. The adept, having +no liking for a battle upon equal terms, then sought safety in flight, +only to be brought to a crashing, stunning halt by a massive tractor +beam. + +"That must be that polycyclic screen that Conway reported on." Cleveland +frowned in thought. "I've been doing a lot of work on that, and I think +I've calculated an opener for it, Fred, but I'll have to have number ten +projector and the whole output of number ten power room. Can you let me +play with that much juice for a while? All right, Blake, tune her up to +fifty-five thousand--there, hold it! Now, you other fellows, listen! I'm +going to try to drill a hole through that screen with a hollow, +quasi-solid beam; like a diamond drill cutting out a core. You won't be +able to shove anything into the hole from outside the beam, so you'll +have to steer your cans out through the central orifice of number ten +projector--that'll be cold, since I'm going to use only the outer ring. +I don't know how long I'll be able to hold the hole open, though, so +shoot them along as fast as you can. Ready? Here goes!" + +He pressed a series of contacts. Far below, in number ten converter +room, massive switches drove home and the enormous mass of the vessel +quivered under the terrific reaction of the newly-calculated, +semi-material beam of energy that was hurled out, backed by the +mightiest of all the mighty converters and generators of Triplanetary's +super-dreadnaught. That beam, a pipe-like hollow cylinder of intolerable +energy, flashed out, and there was a rending, tearing crash as it struck +Roger's hitherto impenetrable wall. Struck and clung, grinding, boring +in, while from the raging inferno that marked the circle of contact of +cylinder and shield the pirate's screen radiated scintillating torrents +of crackling, streaming sparks, lightning like in length and in +intensity. + +Deeper and deeper the gigantic drill was driven. It was through! Pierced +Roger's polycyclic screen; exposed the bare metal of Roger's walls! And +now, concentrated upon one point, flamed out in seemingly redoubled fury +Triplanetary's raging beams--in vain. For even as they could not +penetrate the screen, neither could they penetrate the wall of +Cleveland's drill, but rebounded from it in the cascaded brilliance of +thwarted lightning. + +"Oh, what a dumb-bell I am!" groaned Cleveland. "Why, oh _why_ didn't I +have somebody rig up a secondary SX7 beam on Ten's inner rings? Hop to +it, will you, Blake, so that we'll have it in case they are able to stop +the cans?" + +But the pirates could not stop all of Triplanetary's projectiles, now +hurrying along inside the pipe as fast as they could be driven. In fact, +for a few minutes gray Roger, knowing that he faced the first real +defeat of his long life, paid no attention to them at all, nor to any of +his useless offensive weapons: he struggled only to break away from the +savage grip of the _Boise's_ tractor rod. Futile. He could neither cut +nor stretch that inexorably anchoring beam. Then he devoted his every +resource to the closing of that unbelievable breach in his shield. +Equally futile. His most desperate efforts resulted only in more +frenzied displays of incandescence along the curved surface of contact +of that penetrant cylinder. And through that terrific conduit came +speeding package after package of destruction. Bombs, armor-piercing +shells, gas shells of poisonous and corrosive fluids followed each other +in close succession. The surviving scientists of the planetoid, expert +gunners and ray-men all, destroyed many of the projectiles, but it was +not humanly possible to cope with them all. And the breach could not be +forced shut against the all but irresistible force of Cleveland's +"opener". And with all his power Roger could not shift his vessel's +position in the grip of Triplanetary's tractors sufficiently to bring a +projector to bear upon the super-ship along the now unprotected axis of +that narrow, but deadly tube. + +Thus it was that the end came soon. A war-head touched steel plating and +there ensued a space-wracking explosion of atomic iron. Gaping wide, +helpless, with all defenses down, other torpedoes entered the stricken +hulk and completed its destruction even before they could be recalled. +Atomic bombs literally volatilized most of the pirate vessel; vials of +pure corrosion began to dissolve the solid fragments of her substance +into dripping corruption. Reeking gasses filled every cranny of +circumambient space as what was left of Roger's battle cruiser began the +long plunge to the ground. The super-ship followed the wreckage down, +and Rodebush sent out an exploring spy-ray. + +"... resistance was such that it was necessary to employ corrosive, and +ship and contents were completely disintegrated," he dictated, a little +later, into his vessel's log. "While there were of course no remains +recognizable as human, it is certain that Roger and his last eleven men +died; since it is clear that the circumstances and conditions were such +that no life could possibly have survived." + + * * * * * + +It is true that the form of flesh which had been known as Roger was +destroyed. The solids and liquids of its substance were resolved into +their component molecules or atoms. That which had energized that form +of flesh, however, could not be harmed by any physical force, however +applied. Therefore that which made Roger what he was; the essence which +was Gharlane of Eddore; was actually back upon his native planet even +before Rodebush completed his study of what was left of the pirates' +vessel. + +The Innermost Circle met, and for a space of time which would have been +very long indeed for any Earthly mind those monstrous being considered +as one multi-ply intelligence every newly-exposed phase and facet of the +truth. At the end, they knew the Arisians as well as the Arisians knew +them. The All-Highest then called a meeting of all the minds of Eddore. + +"... hence it is clear that these Arisians, while possessing minds of +tremendous latent capability, are basically soft, and therefore +inefficient," he concluded. "Not weak, mind you, but scrupulous and +unrealistic; and it is by taking advantage of these characteristics that +we shall ultimately triumph." + +"A few details, All-Highest, if Your Ultimate Supremacy would deign," a +lesser Eddorian requested. "Some of us have not been able to perceive at +all clearly the optimum lines of action." + +"While detailed plans of campaign have not yet been worked out, there +will be several main lines of attack. A purely military undertaking will +of course be one, but it will not be the most important. Political +action, by means of subversive elements and obstructive minorities, will +prove much more useful. Most productive of all, however, will be the +operations of relatively small but highly organized groups whose +functions will be to negate, to tear down and destroy, every bulwark of +what the weak and spineless adherents of Civilization consider the +finest things in life--love, truth, honor, loyalty, purity, altruism, +decency, and so on." + +"Ah, love ... extremely interesting. Supremacy, this thing they call +sex," Gharlane offered. "What a silly, what a meaningless thing it is! I +have studied it intensively, but am not yet fully enough informed to +submit a complete and conclusive report. I do know, however, that we can +and will use it. In our hands, vice will become a potent weapon indeed. +Vice ... drugs ... greed ... gambling ... extortion ... blackmail ... +lust ... abduction ... assassination ... ah-h-h!" + +"Exactly. There will be room, and need, for the fullest powers of every +Eddorian. Let me caution you all, however, that little or none of this +work is to be done by any of us in person. We must work through echelon +upon echelon of higher and lower executives and supervisors if we are to +control efficiently the activities of the thousands of billions of +operators which we must and will have at work. Each echelon of control +will be vastly greater in number than the one immediately above it, but +correspondingly lower in the individual power of its component +personnel. The sphere of activity of each supervisor, however small or +great, will be clearly and sharply defined. Rank, from the operators at +planetary-population levels up to and including the Eddorian +Directorate, will be a linear function of ability. Absolute authority +will be delegated. Full responsibility will be assumed. Those who +succeed will receive advancement and satisfaction of desire; those who +fail will die. + +"Since the personnel of the lower echelons will be of small value and +easy of replacement, it is of little moment whether or not they become +involved in reverses affecting the still lower echelons whose activities +they direct. The echelon immediately below us of Eddore, however--and +incidentally, it is my thought that the Ploorans will best serve as our +immediate underlings--must never, under any conditions, allow any hint +of any of its real business to become known either to any member of any +lower echelon or to any adherent of Civilization. This point is vital; +everyone here must realize that only in that way can our own safety +remain assured, and must take pains to see to it that any violator of +this rule is put instantly to death. + +"Those of you who are engineers will design ever more powerful +mechanisms to use against the Arisians. Psychologists will devise and +put into practice new methods and techniques, both to use against the +able minds of the Arisians and to control the activities of mentally +weaker entities. Each Eddorian, whatever his field or his ability, will +be given the task he is best fitted to perform. That is all." + + * * * * * + +And upon Arisia, too, while there was no surprise, a general conference +was held. While some of the young Watchmen may have been glad that the +open conflict for which they had been preparing so long was now about to +break, Arisia as a whole was neither glad nor sorry. In the Great Scheme +of Things which was the Cosmic All, this whole affair was an +infinitesimal incident. It had been foreseen. It had come. Each Arisian +would do to the fullest extent of his ability that which the very fact +of his being an Arisian would compel him to do. It would pass. + +"In effect, then, our situation has not really changed," Eukonidor +stated, rather than asked, after the Elders had again spread their +Visualization for public inspection and discussion. "This killing, it +seems, must go on. This stumbling, falling, and rising; this blind +groping; this futility; this frustration; this welter of crime, +disaster, and bloodshed. Why? It seems to me that it would be much +better--cleaner, simpler, faster, more efficient, and involving +infinitely less bloodshed and suffering--for us to take now a direct and +active part, as the Eddorians have done and will continue to do." + +"Cleaner, youth, yes; and simpler. Easier; less bloody. It would not, +however, be better; or even good; because no end-point would ever be +attained. Young civilizations advance only by overcoming obstacles. Each +obstacle surmounted, each step of progress made, carries its suffering +as well as its reward. We could negate the efforts of any echelon below +the Eddorians themselves, it is true. We could so protect and shield +each one of our protege races that not a war would be waged and not a +law would be broken. But to what end? Further contemplation will show +you immature thinkers that in such a case not one of our races would +develop into what the presence of the Eddorians has made it necessary +for them to become. + +"From this it follows that we would never be able to overcome Eddore; +nor would our conflict with that race remain indefinitely at stalemate. +Given sufficient time during which to work against us, they will be able +to win. However, if every Arisian follows his line of action as it is +laid out in this Visualization, all will be well. Are there any more +questions?" + +"None. The blanks which you may have left can be filled in by a mind of +very moderate power." + + * * * * * + +"Look here, Fred." Cleveland called attention to the plate, upon which +was pictured a horde of the peculiar inhabitants of that ghastly planet, +wreaking their frenzied electrical wrath upon everything within the +circle bared of native life by Roger's destructive beams. "I was just +going to suggest that we clean up the planetoid that Roger started to +build, but I see that the local boys and girls are attending to it." + +"Just as well, perhaps. I would like to stay and study these people a +little while, but we must get back onto the trail of the Nevians," and +the _Boise_ leaped away into space, toward the line of flight of the +amphibians. + +They reached that line and along it they traveled at full normal blast. +As they traveled their detecting receivers and amplifiers were reaching +out with their utmost power; ultra-instruments capable of rendering +audible any signal originating within many light-years of them, upon any +possible communications band. And constantly at least two men, with +every sense concentrated in their ears, were listening to those +instruments. + +Listening--straining to distinguish in the deafening roar of background +noise from the over-driven tubes any sign of voice or of signal: + +Listening--while, millions upon millions of miles beyond even the +prodigious reach of those ultra-instruments, three human beings were +even then sending out into empty space an almost hopeless appeal for the +help so desperately needed! + + + + +CHAPTER 18 + +THE SPECIMENS ESCAPE + + +Knowing well that conversation with its fellows is one of the greatest +needs of any intelligent being, the Nevians had permitted the +Terrestrial specimens to retain possession of their ultra-beam +communicators. Thus it was that Costigan had been able to keep in touch +with his sweetheart and with Bradley. He learned that each had been +placed upon exhibition in a different Nevian city; that the three had +been separated in response to an insistent popular demand for such a +distribution of the peculiar, but highly interesting creatures from a +distant solar system. They had not been harmed. In fact, each was +visited daily by a specialist, who made sure that his charge was being +kept in the pink of condition. + +As soon as he became aware of this condition of things Costigan became +morose. He sat still, drooped, and pined away visibly. He refused to +eat, and of the worried specialist he demanded liberty. Then, failing in +that as he knew he would fail, he demanded something to _do_. They +pointed out to him, reasonably enough, that in such a civilization as +theirs there was nothing he could do. They assured him that they would +do anything they could to alleviate his mental suffering, but that since +he was a museum piece he must see, himself, that he must be kept on +display for a short time. Wouldn't he please behave himself and eat, as +a reasoning being should? Costigan sulked a little longer, then wavered. +Finally he agreed to compromise. He would eat and exercise if they would +fit up a laboratory in his apartment, so that he could continue the +studies he had begun upon his own native planet. To this they agreed, +and thus it came about that one day the following conversation was held: + +"Clio? Bradley? I've got something to tell you this time. Haven't said +anything before, for fear things might not work out, but they did. I +went on a hunger strike and made them give me a complete laboratory. As +a chemist I'm a damn good electrician; but luckily, with the sea-water +they've got here, it's a very simple thing to make...." + +"Hold on!" snapped Bradley. "Somebody may be listening in on us!" + +"They aren't. They can't, without my knowing it, and I'll cut off the +second anybody tries to synchronize with my beam. To resume--making +Vee-Two is a very simple process, and I've got everything around here +that's hollow clear full of it...." + +"How come they let you?" asked Clio. + +"Oh, they don't know what I'm doing. They watched me for a few days, and +all I did was make up and bottle the weirdest messes imaginable. Then I +finally managed to separate oxygen and nitrogen, after trying hard all +of one day; and when they saw that I didn't know anything about either +one of them or what to do with them after I had them, they gave me up in +disgust as a plain dumb ape and haven't paid any attention to me since. +So I've got me plenty of kilograms of liquid Vee-Two, all ready to touch +off. I'm getting out of here in about three minutes and a half, and I'm +coming over after you folks, in a new, iron-powered space-speedster that +they don't know I know anything about. They've just given it its final +tests, and it's the slickest thing you ever saw." + +"But Conway, dearest, you can't possibly rescue me," Clio's voice broke. +"Why, there are thousands of them, all around here. If you can get away, +go, dear, but don't...." + +"I said I was coming after you, and if I get away I'll be there. A good +whiff of this stuff will lay out a thousand of them just as easily as it +will one. Here's the idea. I've made a gas mask for myself, since I'll +be in it where it's thick, but you two won't need any. It's soluble +enough in water so that three or four thicknesses of wet cloth over your +noses will be enough. I'll tell you when to wet down. We're going to +break away or go out trying--there aren't enough amphibians between here +and Andromeda to keep us humans cooped up like menagerie animals +forever! But here comes my specialist with the keys to the city; time +for the overture to start. See you later!" + +The Nevian physician directed his key tube upon the transparent wall of +the chamber and an opening appeared, an opening which vanished as soon +as he had stepped through it; Costigan kicked a valve open; and from +various innocent tubes there belched forth into the water of the central +lagoon and into the air over it a flood of deadly vapor. As the Nevian +turned toward the prisoner there was an almost inaudible hiss and a tiny +jet of the frightful, outlawed stuff struck his open gills, just below +his huge, conical head. He tensed momentarily, twitched convulsively +just once, and fell motionless to the floor. And outside, the streams of +avidly soluble liquefied gas rushed out into air and into water. It +spread, dissolved, and diffused with the extreme mobility which is one +of its characteristics; and as it diffused and was borne outward the +Nevians in their massed hundreds died. Died not knowing what killed +them, not knowing even that they died. Costigan, bitterly resentful of +the inhuman treatment accorded the three and fiercely anxious for the +success of his plan of escape, held his breath and, grimly alert, +watched the amphibians die. When he could see no more motion anywhere he +donned his gas-mask, strapped upon his back a large canister of the +poison--his capacious pockets were already full of smaller +containers--and two savagely exultant sentences escaped him. + +"I am a poor, ignorant specimen of ape that can be let play with +apparatus, am I?" he rasped, as he picked up the key tube of the +specialist and opened the door of his prison. "They'll learn now that it +ain't safe to judge by the looks of a flea how far he can jump!" + +He stepped out through the opening into the water, and, burdened as he +was, made shift to swim to the nearest ramp. Up it he ran, toward a main +corridor. But ahead of him there was wafted a breath of dread Vee-Two, +and where that breath went, went also unconsciousness--an +unconsciousness which would deepen gradually into permanent oblivion +save for the prompt intervention of one who possessed, not only the +necessary antidote, but the equally important knowledge of exactly how +to use it. Upon the floor of that corridor were strewn Nevians, who had +dropped in their tracks. Past or over their bodies Costigan strode, +pausing only to direct a jet of lethal vapor into whatever branching +corridor or open door caught his eye. He was going to the intake of the +city's ventilation plant, and no unmasked creature dependent for life +upon oxygen could bar his path. He reached the intake, tore the canister +from his back, and released its full, vast volume of horrid contents +into the primary air stream of the entire city. + +And all throughout that doomed city Nevians dropped; quietly and without +a struggle, unknowing. Busy executives dropped upon their cushioned, +flat-topped desks; hurrying travelers and messengers dropped upon the +floors of the corridors or relaxed in the noxious waters of the ways; +lookouts and observers dropped before their flashing screens; central +operators of communications dropped under the winking lights of their +panels. Observers and centrals in the outlying sections of the city +wondered briefly at the unwonted universal motionlessness and +stagnation; then the racing taint in water and in air reached them, too, +and they ceased wondering--forever. + +Then through those quiet halls Costigan stalked to a certain storage +room, where with all due precaution he donned his own suit of +Triplanetary armor. Making an ungainly bundle of the other Solarian +equipment stored there, he dragged it along behind him as he clanked +back toward his prison, until he neared the dock at which was moored the +Nevian space-speedster which he was determined to take. Here, he knew, +was the first of many critical points. The crew of the vessel was +aboard, and, with its independent air-supply, unharmed. They had +weapons, were undoubtedly alarmed, and were very probably highly +suspicious. They, too, had ultra-beams and might see him, but his very +closeness to them would tend to protect him from ultra-beam observation. +Therefore he crouched tensely behind a buttress, staring through his +spy-ray goggles, waiting for a moment when none of the Nevians would be +near the entrance, but grimly resolved to act instantly should he feel +any touch of a spying ultra-beam. + +"Here's where the pinch comes," he growled to himself. "I know the +combinations, but if they're suspicious enough and act quick enough they +can seal that door on me before I can get it open, and then rub me out +like a blot; but ... ah!" + +The moment had arrived, before the touch of any revealing ray. He +trained the key-tube, the entrance opened, and through that opening in +the instant of its appearance there shot a brittle bulb of glass, whose +breaking meant death. It crashed into fragments against a metallic wall +and Costigan, entering the vessel, consigned its erstwhile crew one by +one to the already crowded waters of the lagoon. He then leaped to the +controls and drove the captured speedster through the air, to plunge it +down upon the surface of the lagoon beside the door of the isolated +structure which had for so long been his prison. Carefully he +transferred to the vessel the motley assortment of containers of +Vee-Two, and after a quick check-up to make sure that he had overlooked +nothing, he shot his craft straight up into the air. Then only did he +close his ultra-wave circuits and speak. + +"Clio, Bradley--I got away clean, without a bit of trouble. Now I'm +coming after you, Clio." + +"Oh, it's wonderful that you got away, Conway!" the girl exclaimed. "But +hadn't you better get Captain Bradley first? Then, if anything should +happen, he would be of some use, while I...." + +"I'll knock him into an outside loop if he does!" the captain snorted, +and Costigan went on: + +"You won't need to. You come first, Clio, of course. But you're too far +away for me to see you with my spy, and I don't want to use the +high-powered beam of this boat for fear of detection; so you'd better +keep on talking, so that I can trace you." + +"That's one thing I _am_ good at!" Clio laughed in sheer relief. "If +talking were music, I'd be a full brass band!" and she kept up a flow of +inconsequential chatter until Costigan told her that it was no longer +necessary; that he had established the line. + +"Any excitement around there yet?" he asked her then. + +"Nothing unusual that I can see," she replied. "Why? Should there be +some?" + +"I hope not, but when I made my getaway I couldn't kill them all, of +course, and I thought maybe they might connect things up with my +jail-break and tell the other cities to take steps about you two. But I +guess they're pretty well disorganized back there yet, since they can't +know who hit them, or what with, or why. I must have got about everybody +that wasn't sealed up somewhere, and it doesn't stand to reason that +those who are left can check up very closely for a while yet. But +they're nobody's fools--they'll certainly get conscious when I snatch +you, maybe before ... there, I see your city, I think." + +"What are you going to do?" + +"Same as I did back there, if I can. Poison their primary air and all +the water I can reach...." + +"Oh, Conway!" Her voice rose to a scream. "They must know--they're all +getting out of the water and are rushing inside the buildings as fast as +they possibly can!" + +"I see they are," grimly. "I'm right over you now, 'way up. Been +locating their primary intake. They've got a dozen ships around it, and +have guards posted all along the corridors leading to it; and _those +guards are wearing masks_! They're clever birds, all right, those +amphibians--they know what they got back there and how they got it. That +changes things, girl! If we use gas here we won't stand a chance in the +world of getting old Bradley. Stand by to jump when I open that door!" + +"Hurry, dear! They are coming out here after me!" + +"Sure they are." Costigan had already seen the two Nevians swimming out +toward Clio's cage, and had hurled his vessel downward in a screaming +power dive. "You're too valuable a specimen for them to let you be +gassed, but if they can get there before I do they're traveling fools!" + +He miscalculated slightly, so that instead of coming to a halt at the +surface of the liquid medium the speedster struck with a crash that +hurled solid masses of water for hundreds of yards. But no ordinary +crash could harm that vessel's structure, her gravity controls were not +overloaded, and she shot back to the surface; gallant ship and reckless +pilot alike unharmed. Costigan trained his key-tube upon the doorway of +Clio's cell, then tossed it aside. + +"Different combination over here!" he barked. "Got to cut you out--lie +down in that far corner!" + +His hands flashed over the panel, and as Clio fell prone without +hesitation or question a heavy beam literally blasted away a large +portion of the roof of the structure. The speedster shot into the air +and dropped down until she rested upon the tops of opposite walls; walls +still glowing, semi-molten. The girl piled a stool upon the table and +stood upon it, reached upward and seized the mailed hands extended +downward toward her. Costigan heaved her up into the vessel with a +powerful jerk, slammed the door shut, leaped to the controls, and the +speedster darted away. + +"Your armor's in that bundle there. Better put it on, and check your +Lewistons and pistols--no telling what kind of jams we'll get into," he +snapped, without turning. "Bradley, start talking ... all right, I've +got your line. Better get your wet rags ready and get organized +generally--every second will count by the time we get there. We're +coming so fast that our outer plating's white hot, but it may not be +fast enough, at that." + +"It isn't fast enough, quite," Bradley announced, calmly. "They're +coming out after me now." + +"Don't fight them and probably they won't paralyze you. Keep on +talking, so that I can find out where they take you." + +"No good, Costigan." The voice of the old spacehound did not reveal a +sign of emotion as he made his dread announcement. "They have it all +figured out. They're not taking any chances at all--they're going to +paral...." His voice broke off in the middle of the word. + +With a bitter imprecation Costigan flashed on the powerful ultra-beam +projector of the speedster and focused the plate upon Bradley's prison; +careless now of detection, since the Nevians were already warned. Upon +that plate he watched the Nevians carry the helpless body of the captain +into a small boat, and continued to watch as they bore it into one of +the largest buildings of the city. Up a series of ramps they took the +still form, placing it finally upon a soft couch in an enormous and +heavily guarded central hall. Costigan turned to his companion, and even +through the helmets she could see plainly the white agony of his +expression. He moistened his lips and tried twice to speak--tried and +failed; but he made no move either to cut off their power or to change +their direction. + +"Of course," she approved steadily. "We are going through. I know that +you _want_ to run with me, but if you actually did it I would never want +to see you or hear of you again, and you would hate me forever." + +"Hardly that." The anguish did not leave his eyes and his voice was +hoarse and strained, but his hands did not vary the course of the +speedster by so much as a hair's breadth. "You're the finest little +fellow that ever waved a plume, and I would love you no matter what +happened. I'd trade my immortal soul to the devil if it would get you +out of this mess, but we're both in it up to our necks and we can't back +out now. If they kill him we beat it--he and I both knew that it was on +the chance of that happening that I took you first--but as long as all +three of us are alive it's all three or none." + +"Of course," she said again, as steadily, thrilled this time to the +depths of her being by the sheer manhood of him who had thus simply +voiced his Code; a man of such fiber that neither love of life nor his +infinitely greater love for her could make him lower its high standard. +"We are going through. Forget that I am a woman. We are three human +beings, fighting a world full of monsters. I am simply one of us three. +I will steer your ship, fire your projectors, or throw your bombs. What +can I do best?" + +"Throw bombs," he directed, briefly. He knew what must be done were they +to have even the slightest chance of winning clear. "I'm going to blast +a hole down into that auditorium, and when I do you stand by that port +and start dropping bottles of perfume. Throw a couple of big ones right +down the shaft I make, and the rest of them most anywhere, after I cut +the wall open. They'll do good wherever they hit, land or water." + +"But Captain Bradley--he'll be gassed, too." Her fine eyes were +troubled. + +"Can't be helped. I've got the antidote, and it'll work any time under +an hour. That'll be lots of time--if we aren't gone in less than ten +minutes we'll be staying here. They're bringing in platoons of militia +in full armor, and if we don't beat those boys to it we're in for plenty +of grief. All right--start throwing!" + +The speedster had come to a halt directly over the imposing edifice +within which Bradley was incarcerated, and a mighty beam had flared +downward, digging a fiery well through floor after floor of stubborn +metal. The ceiling of the amphitheater was pierced. The beam expired. +Down into that assembly hall there dropped two canisters of Vee-Two, to +crash and to fill its atmosphere with imperceptible death. Then the beam +flashed on again, this time at maximum power, and with it Costigan +burned away half of the entire building. Burned it away until room above +room gaped open, shelf-like, to outer atmosphere; the great hall now +resembling an over-size pigeon-hole surrounded by smaller ones. Into +that largest pigeon-hole the speedster darted, and cushioned desks and +benches crashed down; crushed flat under its enormous weight as it came +to rest upon the floor. + +Every available guard had been thrown into that room, regardless of +customary occupation or of equipment. Most of them had been ordinary +watchmen, not even wearing masks, and all such were already down. Many, +however, were masked, and a few were dressed in full armor. But no +portable armor could mount defenses of sufficient power to withstand the +awful force of the speedster's weapons, and one flashing swing of a +projector swept the hall almost clear of life. + +"Can't shoot very close to Bradley with this big beam, but I'll mop up +on the rest of them by hand. Stay here and cover me, Clio!" Costigan +ordered, and went to open the port. + +"I can't--I won't!" Clio replied instantly. "I don't know the controls +well enough. I'd kill you or Captain Bradley, sure; but I _can_ shoot, +and I'm going to!" and she leaped out, close upon his heels. + +Thus, flaming Lewiston in one hand and barking automatic in the other, +the two mailed figures advanced toward Bradley, now doubly helpless; +paralyzed by his enemies and gassed by his friends. For a time the +Nevians melted away before them, but as they approached more nearly the +couch upon which the captain was they encountered six figures encased in +armor fully as capable as their own. The beams of the Lewistons +rebounded from that armor in futile pyrotechnics, the bullets of the +automatics spattered and exploded impotently against it. And behind that +single line of armored guards were massed perhaps twenty unarmored, but +masked, soldiers; and scuttling up the ramps leading into the hall were +coming the platoons of heavily armored figures which Costigan had +previously seen. + +Decision instantly made, Costigan ran back toward the speedster, but he +was not deserting his companions. + +"Keep the good work up!" he instructed the girl as he ran. "I'll pick +those jaspers off with a pencil and then stand off the bunch that's +coming while you rub out the rest of that crew there and drag Bradley +back here." + +Back at the control panel, he trained a narrow, but intensely dense +beam--quasi-solid lightning--and one by one the six armored figures +fell. Then, knowing that Clio could handle the remaining opposition, he +devoted his attention to the reenforcements so rapidly approaching from +the sides. Again and again the heavy beam lashed out, now upon this +side, now upon that, and in its flaming path Nevians disappeared. And +not only Nevians--in the incredible energy of that beam's blast floor, +walls, ramps, and every material thing vanished in clouds of thick and +brilliant vapor. The room temporarily clear of foes, he sprang again to +Clio's assistance, but her task was nearly done. She had "rubbed out" +all opposition and, tugging lustily at Bradley's feet, had already +dragged him almost to the side of the speedster. + +"At-a-girl, Clio!" cheered Costigan, as he picked up the burly captain +and tossed him through the doorway. "Highly useful, girl of my dreams, +as well as ornamental. In with you, and we'll go places!" + +But getting the speedster out of the now completely ruined hall proved +to be much more of a task than driving it in had been, for scarcely had +Costigan closed his locks than a section of the building collapsed +behind them, cutting off their retreat. Nevian submarines and airships +were beginning to arrive upon the scene, and were beaming the building +viciously in an attempt to entrap or to crush the foreigners in its +ruins. Costigan managed finally to blast his way out, but the Nevians +had had time to assemble in force and he was met by a concentrated storm +of beams and of metal from every inimical weapon within range. + +But not for nothing had Conway Costigan selected for his dash for +liberty the craft which, save only for the two immense interstellar +cruisers, was the most powerful vessel ever built upon red Nevia. And +not for nothing had he studied minutely and to the last, least detail +every item of its controls and of its armament during wearily long days +and nights of solitary imprisonment. He had studied it under test, in +action, and at rest; studied it until he knew thoroughly its every +possibility--and what a ship it was! The atomic-powered generators of +his shielding screens handled with ease the terrific load of the +Nevians' assault, his polycyclic screens were proof against any material +projectile, and the machines supplying his offensive weapons with power +were more than equal to their tasks. Driven now at full rating those +frightful beams lashed out against the Nevians blocking the way, and +under their impacts her screens flared brilliantly through the spectrum +and went down. And in the instant of their failure the enemy vessel was +literally blown into nothingness--no unprotected metal, however +resistant, could exist for a moment in the pathway of those iron-driven +tornadoes of pure energy. + +Ship after ship of the Nevians plunged toward the speedster in +desperately suicidal attempts to ram her down, but each met the same +flaming fate before it could reach its target. Then from the grouped +submarines far below there reached up red rods of force, which seized +the space-ship and began relentlessly to draw her down. + +"What are they doing that for, Conway? _They_ can't fight us!" + +"They don't want to fight us. They want to hold us, but I know what to +do about that, too," and the powerful tractor rods snapped as a plane of +pure force knifed through them. Upward now at the highest permissible +velocity the speedster leaped, and past the few ships remaining above +her she dodged; nothing now between her and the freedom of boundless +space. + +"You did it, Conway; you did it!" Clio exulted. "Oh, Conway, you're just +simply wonderful!" + +"I haven't done it yet," Costigan cautioned her. "The worst is yet to +come. Nerado. He's why they wanted to hold us back, and why I was in +such a hurry to get away. That boat of his is bad medicine, girl, and +we want to put plenty of kilometers behind us before he gets started." + +"But do you think he will chase us?" + +"_Think_ so? I _know_ so! The mere facts that we are rare specimens and +that he told us that we were going to stay there all the rest of our +lives would make him chase us clear to Lundmark's Nebula. Besides that, +we stepped on their toes pretty heavily before we left. We know +altogether too much now to be let get back to Tellus; and finally, +they'd all die of acute enlargement of the spleen if we get away with +this prize ship of theirs. I hope to tell you they'll chase us!" + +He fell silent, devoting his whole attention to his piloting, driving +his craft onward at such velocity that its outer plating held steadily +at the highest point of temperature compatible with safety. Soon they +were out in open space, hurtling toward the sun under the drive of every +possible watt of power, and Costigan took off his armor and turned +toward the helpless body of the captain. + +"He looks so ... so ... so _dead_, Conway! Are you really sure that you +can bring him to?" + +"Absolutely. Lots of time yet. Just three simple squirts in the right +places will do the trick." He took from a locked compartment of his +armor a small steel box, which housed a surgeon's hypodermic and three +vials. One, two, three, he injected small, but precisely measured +amounts of the fluids into the three vital localities, then placed the +inert form upon a deeply cushioned couch. + +"There! That'll take care of the gas in five or six hours. The paralysis +will wear off long before that, so he'll be all right when he wakes up; +and we're going away from here with everything we can put out. I've done +everything I know how to do, for the present." + +Then only did Costigan turn and look down, directly into Clio's eyes. +Wide, eloquent blue eyes that gazed back up into his, tender and +unafraid; eyes freighted with the oldest message of woman to chosen man. +His hard young face softened wonderfully as he stared at her; there were +two quick steps and they were in each other's arms. Lips upon eager +lips, blue eyes to gray, motionless they stood clasped in ecstasy; +thinking nothing of the dreadful past, nothing of the fearful future, +conscious only of the glorious, wonderful present. + +"Clio mine ... darling ... girl, girl, how I love you!" Costigan's deep +voice was husky with emotion. "I haven't kissed you for seven thousand +years! I don't rate you, by a million steps; but if I can just get you +out of this mess, I swear by all the gods of interplanetary space...." + +"You needn't, lover. Rate _me_? Good Heavens, Conway! It's just the +other way...." + +"Stop it!" he commanded in her ear. "I'm still dizzy at the idea of your +loving me at all, to say nothing of loving me _this_ way! But you do, +and that's all I ask, here or hereafter." + +"Love you? _Love_ you!" Their mutual embrace tightened and her low voice +thrilled brokenly as she went on: "Conway dearest ... I can't say a +thing, but you know.... Oh, Conway!" + +After a time Clio drew a long and tremulous, but supremely happy breath +as the realities of their predicament once more obtruded themselves upon +her consciousness. She released herself gently from Costigan's arms. + +"Do you really think that there is a chance of us getting back to the +Earth, so that we can be together ... always?" + +"A chance, yes. A probability, no," he replied, unequivocally. "It +depends upon two things. First, how much of a start we got on Nerado. +His ship is the biggest and fastest thing I ever saw, and if he strips +her down and drives her--which he will--he'll catch us long before we +can make Tellus. On the other hand, I gave Rodebush a lot of data, and +if he and Lyman Cleveland can add it to their own stuff and get that +super-ship of ours rebuilt in time, they'll be out here on the prowl; +and they'll have what it takes to give even Nerado plenty of argument. +No use worrying about it, anyway. We won't know anything until we can +detect one or the other of them, and then will be the time to do +something about it." + +"If Nerado catches us, will you...." She paused. + +"Rub you out? I will not. Even if he does catch us, and takes us back to +Nevia, I won't. There's lots more time coming onto the clock. Nerado +won't hurt either of us badly enough to leave scars, either physical, +mental, or moral. I'd kill you in a second if it were Roger; he's dirty. +He's mean--he's thoroughly bad. But Nerado's a good enough old scout, in +his way. He's big and he's clean. You know, I could really like that +fish if I could meet him on terms of equality sometime?" + +"_I_ couldn't!" she declared vigorously. "He's crawly and scaly and +snaky; and he smells so ... so...." + +"So rank and fishy?" Costigan laughed deeply. "Details, girl; mere +details. I've seen people who looked like money in the bank and who +smelled like a bouquet of violets that you couldn't trust half the +length of Nerado's neck." + +"But look what he did to us!" she protested. "And they weren't trying to +recapture us back there; they were trying to kill us." + +"That was perfectly all right, what he did and what they did--what else +could they have done?" he wanted to know. "And while you're looking, +look at what we did to them--plenty, I'd say. But we all had it to do, +and neither side will blame the other for doing it. He's a square +shooter, I tell you." + +"Well, maybe, but I don't like him a bit, and let's not talk about him +any more. Let's talk about us. Remember what you said once, when you +advised me to 'let you lay,' or whatever it was?" Woman-like, she wished +to dip again lightly into the waters of pure emotion, even though she +had such a short time before led the man out of their profoundest +depths. But Costigan, into whose hard life love of woman had never +before entered, had not yet recovered sufficiently from his soul-shaking +plunge to follow her lead. Inarticulate, distrusting his newly found +supreme happiness, he must needs stay out of those enchanted waters or +plunge again. And he was afraid to plunge--diffident, still deeming +himself unworthy of the miracle of this wonder-girl's love--even though +every fiber of his being shrieked its demand to feel again that slender +body in his arms. He did not consciously think those thoughts. He acted +them without thinking; they were prime basics in that which made Conway +Costigan what he was. + +"I do remember, and I still think it's a sound idea, even though I am +too far gone now to let you put it into effect," he assured her, half +seriously. He kissed her, tenderly and reverently, then studied her +carefully. "But you look as though you'd been on a Martian picnic. When +did you eat last?" + +"I don't remember, exactly. This morning, I think." + +"Or maybe last night, or yesterday morning? I thought so! Bradley and I +can eat anything that's chewable, and drink anything that will pour, but +you can't. I'll scout around and see if I can't fix up something that +you'll be able to eat." + +He rummaged through the store-rooms, emerging with sundry viands from +which he prepared a highly satisfactory meal. + +"Think you can sleep now, sweetheart?" After supper, once more within +the circle of Costigan's arms, Clio nodded her head against his +shoulder. + +"Of course I can, dear. Now that you are with me, out here alone, I'm +not a bit afraid any more. You will get us back to Earth some way, +sometime; I just know that you will. Good-night, Conway." + +"Good-night, Clio ... little sweetheart," he whispered, and went back to +Bradley's side. + +In due time the captain recovered consciousness, and slept. Then for +days the speedster flashed on toward our distant solar system; days +during which her wide-flung detector screens remained cold. + +"I don't know whether I'm afraid they'll hit something or afraid that +they won't," Costigan remarked more than once, but finally those tenuous +sentinels did in fact encounter an interfering vibration. Along the +detector line a visibeam sped, and Costigan's face hardened as he saw +the unmistakable outline of Nerado's interstellar cruiser, far behind +them. + +"Well, a stern chase always was a long one," Costigan said finally. "He +can't catch us for plenty of days yet ... now what?" for the alarms of +the detectors had broken out anew. There was still another point of +interference to be investigated. Costigan traced it, and there, almost +dead ahead of them, between them and their sun, nearing them at the +incomprehensible rate of the sum of the two vessels' velocities, came +another cruiser of the Nevians! + +"Must be the sister-ship, coming back from our System with a load of +iron," Costigan deduced. "Heavily loaded as she is, we may be able to +dodge her; and she's coming so fast that if we can stay out of her range +we'll be all right--he won't be able to stop for probably three or four +days. But if our super-ship is anywhere in these parts, now's the time +for her to rally 'round!" + +He gave the speedster all the side-thrust she would take; then, putting +every available communicator tube behind a tight beam, he aimed it at +Sol and began sending out a long-continued call to his fellows of the +Triplanetary Service. + +Nearer and nearer the Nevian flashed, trying with all her power to +intercept the speedster; and it soon became evident that, heavily laden +though she was, she could make enough sideway to bring her within range +at the time of meeting. + +"Of course, they've got partial neutralization of inertia, the same as +we have," Costigan cogitated, "and by the way he's coming I'd say that +he had orders to blow us out of the ether--he knows as well as we do +that he can't capture us alive at anything like the relative velocities +we've got now. I can't give her any more side thrust without overloading +the gravity controls, so overloaded they've got to be. Strap down, you +two, because they may go out entirely!" + +"Do you think that you can pull away from them, Conway?" Clio was +staring in horrified fascination into the plate, watching the pictured +vessel increase in size, moment by moment. + +"I don't know whether I can or not, but I'm going to try. Just in case +we don't, though, I'm going to keep on yelling for help. In solid? All +right, boat, DO YOUR STUFF!" + + + + +CHAPTER 19 + +GIANTS MEET + + +"Check your blast, Fred, I think that I hear something trying to come +through!" Cleveland called out, sharply. For days the _Boise_ had torn +through the illimitable reaches of empty space, and now the long vigil +of the keen-eared listeners was to be ended. Rodebush cut off his power, +and through the crackling roar of tube noise an almost inaudible voice +made itself heard. + +"... all the help you can give us. Samms--Cleveland--Rodebush--anybody +of Triplanetary who can hear me, listen! This is Costigan, with Miss +Marsden and Captain Bradley, heading for where we think the sun is, from +right ascension about six hours, declination about plus fourteen +degrees. Distance unknown, but probably a good many light-years. Trace +my call. One Nevian ship is overhauling us slowly, another is coming +toward us from the sun. We may or may not be able to dodge it, but we +need all the help you can give us. Samms--Rodebush--Cleveland--anybody +of Triplanetary...." + +Endlessly the faint, faint voice went on, but Rodebush and Cleveland +were no longer listening. Sensitive ultra-loops had been swung, and +along the indicated line shot Triplanetary's super-ship at a velocity +which she had never before even approached; the utterly +incomprehensible, almost incalculable velocity attained by inertialess +matter driven through an almost perfect vacuum by the _Boise's_ maximum +projector blasts--a blast which would lift her stupendous normal tonnage +against a gravity five times that of Earth. At the full frightful +measure of that velocity the super-ship literally annihilated distance, +while ahead of her the furiously driven spy-ray beam fanned out in quest +of the three Triplanetarians who were calling for help. + +"Got any idea how fast we're going?" Rodebush demanded, glancing up for +an instant from the observation plate. "We should be able to see him, +since we could hear him, and our range is certainly as great as anything +he can have." + +"No. Can't figure velocity without any reliable data on how many atoms +of matter exist per cubic meter out here." Cleveland was staring at the +calculator. "It's constant, of course, at the value at which the +friction of the medium is equal to our thrust. Incidentally, we can't +hold it too long. We're running a temperature, which shows that we're +stepping along faster than anybody ever computed before. Also, it points +out the necessity for something that none of us ever anticipated needing +in an open-space drive--refrigerators or radiating wall-shields or +repellers or something of the sort. But to get back to our +velocity--taking Throckmorton's estimates it figures somewhere near the +order of magnitude of ten to the twenty-seventh. Fast enough, anyway, so +that you'd better bend an eye on that plate. Even after you see them you +won't know where they really are, because we don't know any of the +velocities involved--our own, theirs, or that of the beam--and we may be +right on top of them." + +"Or, if we happen to be outrunning the beam, we won't see them at all. +That makes it nice piloting." + +"How are you going to handle things when we get there?" + +"Lock to them and take them aboard, if we're in time. If not, if they +are fighting already--_there they are_!" + +The picture of the speedster's control room flashed upon the speaker. + +"Hi, Fritz! Hi, Cleve! Welcome to our city! Where are you?" + +"We don't know," Cleveland snapped back, "and we don't know where you +are, either. Can't figure anything without data. I see you're still +breathing air. Where are the Nevians? How much time have we got yet?" + +"Not enough, I'm afraid. By the looks of things they will be within +range of us in a couple of hours, and you haven't even touched our +detector screen yet." + +"A couple of _hours_!" In his relief Cleveland shouted the words. +"That's time to burn--we can be just about out of the Galaxy in +that...." He broke off at a yell from Rodebush. + +"Broadcast, Spud, BROADCAST!" the physicist had cried, as Costigan's +image had disappeared utterly from his plate. + +He cut off the _Boise's_ power, stopping her instantaneously in +mid-space, but the connection had been broken. Costigan could not +possibly have heard the orders to change his beam signal to a broadcast, +so that they could pick it up; nor would it have done any good if he had +heard and had obeyed. So immeasurably great had been their velocity that +they had flashed past the speedster and were now unknown thousands--or +millions--of miles beyond the fugitives they had come so far to help; +far beyond the range of any possible broadcast. But Cleveland understood +instantly what had happened. He now had a little data upon which to +work, and his hands flew over the keys of the calculator. + +"Back blast, at maximum, seventeen seconds!" he directed crisply. "Not +exact, of course, but that will put us close enough so that we can find +'em with our detectors." + +For the calculated seventeen seconds the super-ship retraced her path, +at the same awful speed with which she had come so far. The blast +expired and there, plainly limned upon the observation plates, was the +Nevian speedster. + +"As a computer, you're good, Cleve," Rodebush applauded. "So close that +we can't use the neutralizers to catch him. If we use one dyne of drive +we'll overshoot a million kilometers before I could snap the switch." + +"And yet he's so far away and going so fast that if we keep our inertia +on it'll take all day at full blast to overtake--no, wait a minute--we +could _never_ catch him." Cleveland was puzzled. "What to do? Shunt in a +potentiometer?" + +"No, we don't need it." Rodebush turned to the transmitter. "Costigan! +We are going to take hold of you with a very light tractor--a tracer, +really--and whatever you do, DON'T CUT IT, or we can't reach you in +time. It may look like a collision, but it won't be--we'll just touch +you, without even a jar." + +"A tractor--inertialess?" Cleveland wondered. + +"Sure. Why not?" Rodebush set up the beam at its absolute minimum of +power and threw in the switch. + +While hundreds of thousands of miles separated the two vessels and the +attractor was exerting the least effort of which it was capable, yet the +super-ship leaped toward the smaller craft at a pace which covered the +intervening distance in almost no time at all. So rapidly were the +objectives enlarging upon the plates that the automatic focusing devices +could scarcely function rapidly enough to keep them in place. Cleveland +flinched involuntarily and seized his arm-rests in a spasmodic clutch as +he watched this, the first inertialess space-approach; and even +Rodebush, who knew better than anyone else what to expect, held his +breath and swallowed hard at the unbelievable rate at which the two +vessels were rushing together. + +And if these two, who had rebuilt the super-ship, could hardly control +themselves, what of the three in the speedster, who knew nothing +whatever of the wonder-craft's potentialities? Clio, staring into the +plate with Costigan, uttered one piercing shriek as she sank her fingers +into his shoulders. Bradley swore a mighty deep-space oath and braced +himself against certain annihilation. Costigan stared for an instant, +unable to believe his eyes; then, in spite of the warning, his hand +darted toward the studs which would cut the beam. Too late. Before his +flying fingers could reach the buttons the _Boise_ was upon them; had +struck the speedster in direct central impact. Moving at the full +measure of her unthinkable velocity though the super-ship was in the +instant of impact, yet the most delicate recording instruments of the +speedster could not detect the slightest shock as the enormous globe +struck the comparatively tiny torpedo and clung to it; accommodating +instantaneously and effortlessly her own terrific pace to that of the +smaller and infinitely slower craft. Clio sobbed in relief and Costigan, +one arm around her, sighed hugely. + +"Hey, you spacelugs!" he cried. "Glad to see you, and all that, but you +might as well kill a man outright as scare him to death! So _that's_ the +super-ship, huh? _Some_ ship!" + +"Hi-ya, Murf! Hi, Spud!" came from the speaker. + +"Murf? Spud? How come?" Clio, practically recovered now, glanced upward +questioningly. It was plain that she did not quite know whether or not +to like the nicknames which the rescuers were calling her Conway. + +"My middle name is Murphy, so they've called me things like that ever +since I was so high." Costigan indicated a length of approximately +twelve inches. "And now you'll probably live long enough--I hope--to +hear me called a lot worse stuff than that." + +"Don't _talk_ that way--we're safe now, Con ... Spud? It's nice that +they like you so much--but they would, of course." She snuggled even +closer, and both listened to what Rodebush was saying. + +"... realize myself that it would look so bad; it scared me as much as +it did anybody. Yes, this is IT. She really works--thanks more than +somewhat to Conway Costigan, by the way. But you had better transfer. +If you'll get your things...." + +"'Things' is good!" Costigan laughed, and Clio giggled sunnily. + +"We've made so many transfers already that what you see is all we've +got," Bradley explained. "We'll bring ourselves, and we'll hurry. That +Nevian is coming up fast." + +"Is there anything on this ship you fellows want?" Costigan asked. + +"There may be, but we haven't any locks big enough to let her inside and +we haven't time to study her now. You might leave her controls in +neutral, so that we can calculate her position if we should want her +later on." + +"All right." The three armor-clad figures stepped into the _Boise's_ +open lock, the tractor beam was cut off, and the speedster flashed away +from the now stationary super-ship. + +"Better let formalities go for a while," Captain Bradley interrupted the +general introductions taking place. "I was scared out of nine years' +growth when I saw you coming at us, and maybe I've still got the humps; +but that Nevian is coming up fast, and if you don't already know it I +can tell you that she's _no_ light cruiser." + +"That's so, too," Costigan agreed. "Have you fellows got enough stuff so +that you think you can take him? You've got the legs on him, anyway--you +can certainly run if you want to!" + +"Run?" Cleveland laughed. "We have a bone of our own to pick with that +ship. We licked her to a standstill once, until we burned out a set of +generators, and since we got them fixed we've been chasing her all over +space. We were chasing her when we picked up your call. See there? She's +doing the running." + +The Nevian was running, in truth. Her commander had seen and had +recognized the great vessel which had flashed out of nowhere to the +rescue of the three fugitives from Nevia; and, having once been at grips +with that vengeful super-dreadnaught, he had little stomach for another +encounter. Therefore his side-thrust was now being exerted in the +opposite direction; he was frankly trying to put as much distance as +possible between himself and Triplanetary's formidable warship. In vain. +A light tractor was clamped on and the _Boise_ flashed up to close range +before Rodebush restored her inertia and Cleveland brought the two +vessels relatively to rest by increasing gradually his tractor's pull. +And this time the Nevian could not cut the tractor. Again that shearing +plane of force bit into it and tore at it, but it neither yielded nor +broke. The rebuilt generators of Number Four were designed to carry the +load, and they carried it. And again Triplanetary's every mighty weapon +was brought into play. + +The "cans" were thrown, ultra-and infra-beams were driven, the furious +macro-beam gnawed hungrily at the Nevian's defenses; and one by one +those defenses went down. In desperation the enemy commander threw his +every generator behind a polycyclic screen; only to see Cleveland's even +more powerful drill bore relentlessly through it. After that puncturing, +the end came soon. A secondary SX7 beam was now in place on mighty Ten's +inner rings, and one fierce blast blew a hole completely through the +Nevian cruiser. Into that hole entered Adlington's terrific bombs and +their gruesome fellows, and where they entered, life departed. All +defenses vanished, and under the blasts of the _Boise's_ batteries, now +unopposed, the metal of the Nevian vessel exploded into a widely +spreading cloud of vapor. Sparkling vapor, with perhaps here and there a +droplet or two of material which had been only liquefied. + +So passed the sister-ship, and Rodebush turned his plates upon the +vessel of Nerado. But that highly intelligent amphibian had seen all +that had occurred. He had long since given over the pursuit of the +speedster, and he did not rush in to do hopeless battle beside his +fellow Nevians against the Tellurians. His analytical detectors had +written down each detail of every weapon and of every screen employed; +and even while prodigious streamers of force were raving out from his +vessel, braking her terrific progress and swinging her around in an +immense circle back toward far Nevia, his scientists and mechanics were +doubling and redoubling the power of his already Titanic installations, +to match and if possible to overmatch those of Triplanetary's +super-dreadnaught. + +"Do we kill him now or do we let him suffer a while longer?" Costigan +demanded. + +"I don't think so, yet," Rodebush replied. "Would you, Cleve?" + +"Not yet," said Cleveland, grimly, reading the other's thought and +agreeing with it. "Let him pilot us to Nevia; we might not be able to +find it without a guide. While we're at it we want to so pulverize that +crowd that if they never come near the Solarian system again they'll +think it's twenty minutes too soon." + +Thus it was that the _Boise_, increasing her few dynes of driving force +at a rate just sufficient to match her quarry's acceleration, pursued +the Nevian ship. Apparently exerting every effort, she never came quite +within range of the fleeing raider; yet never was she so far behind that +the Nevian space-ship was not in clear register upon her observation +plates. + +Nor was Nerado alone in strengthening his vessel. Costigan knew well and +respected highly the Nevian scientist-captain, and at his suggestion +much time was spent in reenforcing the super-ship's armament to the +iron-driven limit of theoretical and mechanical possibility. + +In mid-space, however, the Nevian slowed down. + +"What gives?" Rodebush demanded of the group at large. "Not turn-over +time already, is it?" + +"No." Cleveland shook his head. "Not for at least a day yet." + +"Cooking up something on Nevia, is my guess," Costigan put in. "If I +know that lizard at all, he wired ahead--specifications for the +welcoming committee. We're getting there too fast, so he's stalling. +Check?" + +"Check." Rodebush agreed. "But there's no use of us waiting, if you're +sure you know which one of those stars up ahead is Nevia. Do you, +Cleve?" + +"Definitely." + +"The only other thing is, then, shall we blow them out of the ether +first?" + +"You might try," Costigan remarked. "That is, if you're damned sure that +you can run if you have to." + +"Huh? _Run_?" demanded Rodebush. + +"Just that. It's spelled R-U-N, run. I know those freaks better than you +do. Believe me, Fritz, they've got what it takes." + +"Could be, at that," Rodebush admitted. "We'll play it safe." + +The _Boise_ leaped upon the Nevian, every weapon aflame. But, as +Costigan had expected, Nerado's vessel was completely ready for any +emergency. And, unlike her sister-ship, she was manned by scientists +well versed in the fundamental theory of the weapons with which they +fought. Beams, rods, and lances of energy flamed and flared; planes and +pencils cut, slashed, and stabbed; defensive screens glowed redly or +flashed suddenly into intensely brilliant, coruscating incandescence. +Crimson opacity struggled sullenly against violet curtain of +annihilation. Material projectiles and torpedoes were launched under +full beam control; only to be exploded harmlessly in mid-space, to be +blasted into nothingness, or to disappear innocuously against +impenetrable polycyclic screens. Even Cleveland's drill was ineffective. +Both vessels were equipped completely with iron-driven mechanisms; both +were manned by scientists capable of wringing the highest possible +measure of power from their installations. Neither could harm the other. + +The _Boise_ flashed away; reached Nevia in minutes. Down into the +crimson atmosphere she dropped, down toward the city which Costigan knew +was Nerado's home port. + +"Hold up a bit!" Costigan cautioned, sharply. "There's something down +there that I don't like!" + +As he spoke there shot upward from the city a multitude of flashing +balls. The Nevians had mastered the secret of the explosive of the +fishes of the greater deeps, and were launching it in a veritable storm +against the Tellurian visitor. + +"Those?" asked Rodebush, calmly. The detonating balls of destruction +were literally annihilating even the atmosphere beyond the polycyclic +screen, but that barrier was scarcely affected. + +"No. That." Costigan pointed out a hemispherical dome which, redly +translucent, surrounded a group of buildings towering high above their +neighbors. "Neither those high towers nor those screens were there the +last time I was in this town. Nerado _was_ stalling for time, and that's +what they're doing down there--that's all those fire-balls are for. Good +sign, too--they aren't ready for us yet. We'd better take 'em while the +taking's good. If they _were_ ready for us, our play would be to get out +of here while we're all in one piece." + +Nerado had been in touch with the scientists of his city; he had been +instructing them in the construction of converters and generators of +such weight and power that they could crush even the defenses of the +super-ship. The mechanisms were not, however, ready; the entirely +unsuspected possibilities of speed inherent in absolute inertialessness +had not entered into Nerado's calculations. + +"Better drop a few cans down onto that dome, fellows," Rodebush +suggested to his gunners. + +"We can't," came Adlington's instant reply. "No use trying it--that's a +polycyclic screen. Can you drill it? If you can, I've got a real bomb +here--that special we built--that will do the trick if you can protect +it from them until it gets down into the water." + +"I'll try it," Cleveland answered, at a nod from the physicist. "I +couldn't drill Nerado's polycyclics, but I couldn't use any momentum on +him. Couldn't ram him--he fell back with my thrust. But that screen down +there can't back away from us, so maybe I can work on it. Get your +special ready. Hang on, everybody!" + +The _Boise_ looped upward, and from an altitude of miles dove straight +down through a storm of force-balls, beams, and shells; a dive checked +abruptly as the hollow tube of energy which was Cleveland's drill +snarled savagely down ahead of her and struck the shielding hemisphere +with a grinding, lightning-spitting shock. As it struck, backed by all +the enormous momentum of the plunging space-ship and driven by the full +power of her prodigious generators it bored in, clawing and gouging +viciously through the tissues of that rigid and unyielding barrier of +pure energy. Then, mighty drill and plunging mass against iron-driven +wall, eye-tearing and furiously spectacular warfare was waged. + +Well it was for Triplanetary that day that its super-ship carried ample +supplies of allotropic iron; well it was that her originally Gargantuan +converters and generators had been doubled and quadrupled in power on +the long Nevian way! For that ocean-girdled fortress was powered to +withstand any conceivable assault--but the _Boise's_ power and momentum +were now inconceivable; and every watt and every dyne was solidly behind +that hellishly flaming, that voraciously tearing, that irresistibly +ravening cylinder of energy incredible! + +Through the Nevian shield that cylinder gnawed its frightful way, and +down its protecting length there drove Adlington's "Special" bomb. +"Special" it was indeed; so great of girth that it could barely pass +through the central orifice of Ten's mighty projector, so heavily +charged with sensitized atomic iron that its detonation upon any planet +would not have been considered for an instant if that planet's integrity +meant anything to its attackers. Down the shielding pipe of force the +"Special" screamed under full propulsion, and beneath the surface of +Nevia's ocean it plunged. + +"Cut!" yelled Adlington, and as the scintillating drill expired the +bomber pressed his detonating switch. + +For moments the effect of the explosion seemed unimportant. A dull, low +rumble was all that was to be heard of a concussion that jarred red +Nevia to her very center; and all that could be seen was a slow heaving +of the water. But that heaving did not cease. Slowly, _so_ slowly it +seemed to the observers now high in the heavens, the waters rose up and +parted; revealing a vast chasm blown deep into the ocean's rocky bed. +Higher and higher the lazy mountains of water reared; effortlessly to +pick up, to smash, to grind into fragments, and finally to toss aside +every building, every structure, every scrap of material substance +pertaining to the whole Nevian city. + +Flattened out, driven backward for miles, the buffeted waters were +pressed, leaving exposed bare ground and broken rock where once had been +the ocean's busy floor. Tremendous blasts of incandescent gas raved +upward, jarring even the enormous mass of the super-ship poised so high +above the site of the explosion. Then the displaced millions of tons of +water rushed to make even more complete the already total destruction of +the city. The raging torrents poured into that yawning cavern, filled +it, and piled mountainously above it; receding and piling up, again and +again; causing tidal waves which swept a full half of Nevia's mighty, +watery globe. That city was silenced--forever. + +"MY ... GOD!" Cleveland was the first to break the awed, the stunned, +silence. He licked his lips. "But we had it to do ... and at that, it's +not as bad as what they did to Pittsburgh--they would have evacuated all +except military personnel." + +"Of course ... what next?" asked Rodebush. "Look around, I suppose, to +see if they have any more...." + +"Oh, no, Conway--no! Don't let them!" Clio was sobbing openly. "I'm +going to my room and crawl under the bed--I'll see that sight all the +rest of my life!" + +"Steady, Clio." Costigan's arm tightened around her. "We'll have to +look, but we won't find any more. One--if they could have finished +it--would have been enough." + +Again and again the _Boise_ circled the world. No more super-powered +installations were being built. And, surprisingly enough, the Nevians +made no demonstration of hostility. + +"I wonder why?" Rodebush mused. "Of course, we aren't attacking them, +either, but you'd think ... do you suppose that they are waiting for +Nerado?" + +"Probably." Costigan paused in thought. "We'd better wait for him, too. +We can't leave things this way." + +"But if we can't force engagement ... a stalemate...." Cleveland's voice +was troubled. + +"We'll do _something_!" Costigan declared. "This thing has got to be +settled, some way or other, before we leave here. First, try talking. +I've got an idea that ... anyway, it can't do any harm, and I know that +he can hear and understand you." + +Nerado arrived. Instead of attacking, his ship hung quietly poised, a +mile or two away from the equally undemonstrative _Boise_. Rodebush +directed a beam. + +"Captain Nerado, I am Rodebush of Triplanetary. What do you wish to do +about this situation?" + +"I wish to talk to you." The Nevian's voice came clearly from the +speaker. "You are, I now perceive, a much higher form of life than any +of us had thought possible; a form perhaps as high in evolution as our +own. It is a pity that we did not take the time for a full meeting of +minds when we first neared your planet, so that much life, both +Tellurian and Nevian, might have been spared. But what is past cannot be +recalled. As reasoning beings, however, you will see the futility of +continuing a combat in which neither is capable of winning victory over +the other. You may, of course, destroy more of our Nevian cities, in +which case I should be compelled to go and destroy similarly upon your +Earth; but, to reasoning minds, such a course would be sheerest +stupidity." + +Rodebush cut the communicator beam. + +"Does he mean it?" he demanded of Costigan. "It sounds perfectly +reasonable, but...." + +"But fishy!" Cleveland broke in. "Altogether too reasonable to be true!" + +"He means it. He means every word of it," Costigan assured his fellows. +"I had an idea that he would take it that way. That's the way they are. +Reasonable; passionless. Funny--they lack a lot of things that we have; +but they've got stuff that I wish more of us Tellurians had, too. Give +me the plate--I'll talk for Triplanetary," and the beam was restored. + +"Captain Nerado," he greeted the Nevian commander. "Having been with you +and among your people, I know that you mean what you say and that you +speak for your race. Similarly, I believe that I can speak for the +Triplanetary Council--the governing body of three of the planets of our +solar system--in saying that there is no need for any more conflict +between our peoples. I also was compelled by circumstances to do certain +things which I now wish could be undone; but as you have said, the past +is past. Our two races have much to gain from each other by friendly +exchanges of materials and of ideas, while we can expect nothing except +mutual extermination if we elect to continue this warfare. I offer you +the friendship of Triplanetary. Will you release your screens and come +aboard to sign a treaty?" + +"My screens are down. I will come." Rodebush likewise cut off his power, +although somewhat apprehensively, and a Nevian lifeboat entered the main +airlock of the _Boise_. + +Then, at a table in the control room of Triplanetary's first super-ship, +there was written the first Inter-Systemic Treaty. Upon one side were +the three Nevians; amphibious, cone-headed, loop-necked, scaly, +four-legged things to us monstrosities: upon the other were human +beings; air-breathing, round-headed, short-necked, smooth-bodied, +two-legged creatures equally monstrous to the fastidious Nevians. Yet +each of these representatives of two races so different felt respect for +the other race increase within him minute by minute as the conversation +went on. + +The Nevians had destroyed Pittsburgh, but Adlington's bomb had blown an +important Nevian city completely out of existence. One Nevian vessel had +wiped out a Triplanetarian fleet; but Costigan had depopulated one +Nevian city, had seriously damaged another, and had beamed down many +Nevian ships. Therefore loss of life and material damage could be +balanced off. The Solarian System was rich in iron, to which the Nevians +were welcome; red Nevia possessed abundant stores of substances which +upon Earth were either rare or of vital importance, or both. Therefore +commerce was to be encouraged. The Nevians had knowledges and skills +unknown to Earthly science, but were entirely ignorant of many things +commonplace to us. Therefore interchange of students and of books was +highly desirable. And so on. + +Thus was signed the Triplanetario-Nevian Treaty of Eternal Peace. Nerado +and his two companions were escorted ceremoniously to their vessel, and +the _Boise_ took off inertialess for Earth, bearing the good news that +the Nevian menace was no more. + +Clio, now a hardened spacehound, immune even to the horrible nausea of +inertialessness, wriggled lithely in the curve of Costigan's arm and +laughed up at him. + +"You can talk all you want to, Conway Murphy Spud Costigan, but I don't +like them the least little bit. They give me goose-bumps all over. I +suppose that they are really estimable folks; talented, cultured, and +everything; but just the same I'll bet that it will be a long, long time +before anybody on Earth will really, truly _like_ them!" + + + + + war of the galaxies + + Eddore and Arisia fought desperately to control the Universe. The + ultimate battleground was a tiny, backward planet in a remote + galaxy--Earth. + + And only a few Earthmen knew of the titanic struggle--and of the + strange, decisive role they were to play in the war of the + super-races. + + Here is the beginning of "Doc" Smith's famous Lensman series--the + first of the celebrated novels that set a pattern for science + fiction. + + BE SURE TO GET EVERY ONE OF THE LENSMAN NOVELS AS THEY GO ON SALE! + + ONE OF THE GREATEST SCIENCE FICTION SERIES EVER WRITTEN! + + A PYRAMID BOOK 95c Printed in U.S.A. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Triplanetary, by Edward Elmer Smith + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TRIPLANETARY *** + +***** This file should be named 32706.txt or 32706.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/7/0/32706/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Graeme Mackreth and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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