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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..dc66ea8 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #63715 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/63715) diff --git a/old/63715-0.txt b/old/63715-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 3b6d892..0000000 --- a/old/63715-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1646 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Enter the Nebula, by Carl Jacobi - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: Enter the Nebula - -Author: Carl Jacobi - -Release Date: November 11, 2020 [EBook #63715] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENTER THE NEBULA *** - - - - ENTER THE NEBULA - - By CARL JACOBI - - The greatest cracksman in the Galaxy--The - Nebula ... mocked by a gay voice that called - herself Andromeda, who led him into - danger--and into the hands of his enemy! - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Fall 1946. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -Phil Hanley came out of the managing editor's office and strode -savagely to his desk in the paper littered city room. It was one P.M., -between editions, and the reporters and copy-desk men of the _Martian -Globe_ were taking things easy for the moment. Hanley slumped into his -chair, kicked his feet up on his auto-typewriter, and mouthed an oath. -"He can't do it," he growled. "Who the hell does he think I am anyway? -I'll quit, that's what I'll do." - -"Not again," taunted McFee, a rewrite man. - -"Yes, again," snarled Hanley. "And this time I mean it. Do you know -what that lopsided jackass wants me to do? Get a personal interview -with the Nebula. For all _I_ know, the Nebula might be a four -dimensional robot." - -McFee lit a cigarette and leaned against the desk. "Did the old man -really hand you that for an assignment?" - -Hanley nodded, his anger passing now into glumness. "It's a compliment, -I suppose," he said, "for anyone to think I might have even a chance." -His eyes turned from the room and stared unseeing through the window -into the metropolitan area of Crater City. - -"The Nebula," he said slowly. "Every dick and I.P. man in the System -has been tearing his hair, trying to get a lead on who or what he is. -The Nebula! The greatest cracksman of all time!" - -McFee exhaled a lungful of smoke. "He's quite a guy, isn't he?" - -Deliberately Hanley dropped his feet to the floor and sat erect. -"Listen," he said, "he's the Robin Hood of the day, if you can possibly -remember your ancient history. Two years ago he swiped the electrolic -jewels from the atomic motors of the _Fortuna_, the gambling space -ship, broke them into two hundred parts and gave them to the Society -for Orphaned Children. A year ago he entered the inner rooms of the -Venus Gallery and made off with the _Cosmic Lady_, the greatest -painting of the age. - -"The man's a wizard. No vault door, no lock mechanism keeps him out. -He walks in, takes what he wants, and leaves before the I.P. men know -what's happened. All they find is that little pastel-blue card with the -cluster of white dots in the shape of the Constellation Orion. That's -what gave him the name of the Nebula, you see." - -McFee nodded. "I know," he said, "but who is he? And what's his -permanent address?" - -For a moment Hanley said nothing. He reached in his pocket, drew out a -bulldog pipe and a worn tobacco pouch. A glitter was slowly entering -his eyes. "You know," he said, "I have half a mind to try and find out -at that." - - * * * * * - -The mercury clock over the white mantel chimed the hour of eight A.M., -and Jimmy Starr sat up in bed yawning. As the last note faded into -silence, the door of the room opened, and a white-haired man entered, -carrying a tray. - -"Good morning, Mr. Starr." - -"Good morning, Peters," Jimmy said. "Did you bring the paper?" - -The servant nodded, propped a morning edition against Jimmy's upraised -knees and placed the breakfast tray on the side of the bed. "Will you -have orange juice or Martian melon today?" he asked. - -"Orange juice, I believe," replied Jimmy absently, and then coughed -to hide the sudden tenseness that had entered his voice. He waited -impatiently while the aged servant opened the window blinds and busied -himself about the room. - -When at last the man had gone, Jimmy sat bolt upright and stared at -the screaming type. - - NEBULA ON THE LOOSE AGAIN - GENTLEMAN BURGLAR PROVES - TO BE COMMON CRIMINAL - -The running story was bitter in its denunciation. Where before those -same columns had accepted each new exploit of the Nebula as a prank -upon the police and an irritation to the wealthy, they now demanded -legal action. For this time the Nebula had committed murder! - -The Crater City Museum had been robbed during the night. Three -priceless Thro-Pahl figurines had been stolen. An aged night watchman -had been brutally beaten to death. - -"The guilt is undeniable," the paper continued. "Drunk with power, this -sadist had the effrontery to leave behind one of his mocking cards. -What are the police going to do about it?" - -Jimmy Starr leaned back and let a soft whistle escape from his lips. -The newspaper story was all wrong. For Jimmy Starr had spent the entire -night in his apartment. And Jimmy Starr was the Nebula! - -He didn't know quite how long he had been playing this dual role. -Years now, ever since his father, Randall Starr, president of the -Triplanetary Freight Lines had been murdered and had left his enormous -fortune to his son. - -Randall Starr had come up from poverty with his only heritage, a -brilliant mind and skillful hands. He had dabbled in a little of -everything before he had become associated with the Venus-Mars-Earth -shipping business. But all during his years of executive activity, he -had always found time for two things: his hobby, the manufacture and -study of theft-proof materials and devices; and the deciphering of the -ancient _Lost Chronicles_ of Mars. - -It was this last that had resulted in his untimely end. Jimmy Starr -had known for a long time that his father was on the verge of a great -discovery, but what that discovery was he had had no inkling. - -"Wait 'til I've finished," Randall Starr would always say when -questioned. "Some day I'll have an announcement to make that will -startle all Mars." - -And then one night Jimmy Starr had been wakened by a terrific crash -downstairs in the lower-floor study. He had rushed to the room to -find his father stretched out on the floor, blood trickling from a -gaping wound in his head. The window was open, showing the way of the -assailant's escape. Randall Starr's filing cabinet had been thrown to -the floor and battered open with some heavy instrument. Papers lay -strewn about in wild disorder. - -Jimmy knelt at his father's side, in time to hear the old man's last -gasping words. "The ... Chronicles ... they took ... the five cyphers. -You must get them back, Jimmy, before the last one is completed and the -secret discovered. You must, do you understand? The future of all life -on this planet depends on it." - -"Who...?" choked Jimmy. "Tell me who, and I'll...." - -But the effort had been too great. The old man fell back, his warning -unfinished. - -Clues? Jimmy had employed the finest detectives on Mars in a vain -attempt to track down the guilty one. He had followed trails himself, -questioned all of his father's former friends and associates. The one -and only shred of evidence he had led him no place. This was a polished -_falpa_ button which Randall Starr had torn from his assailant's tunic -during the struggle--the type of button which members of the limited -_superiors_ class effected. The _superiors_ were a throw-back to the -feudalistic days of a by-gone age. Powerful overlords with inherited -political and financial power, they still wielded a strong influence -over an otherwise partially modernized society. - -So this much Jimmy knew--his father had been murdered and the -_Chronicles_ cypher taken by a man who walked in the highest brackets -of the System's social worlds. - - * * * * * - -In time Jimmy's grief passed, and he began to follow in his father's -footsteps. Theoretically, he was acting head of Triplanetary. But -with the shipping line operating smoothly with hundreds of efficient -under-officials, there was little for him to do. After graduating from -the Martian School of Technology, he toured the System in his own -space-yacht. It was that trip that brought home to him the poverty and -sordid conditions existent in the various worlds. - -On Venus he had seen powerful land-owners growing fat and rich while -native Kamalis and Sarakans toiled in the swamps. On Mars he had toured -the luxurious plaisances and estates of the D.O.F.C--the Descendents -of the First Colonists--and a hundred miles out in the desert had -walked through the stinking narrow streets of the Thedras, the despised -aboriginals of the West Plateaus. - -Then and there Jimmy Starr had decided to add a twofold purpose to his -life. He would do all in his power to aid the oppressed poor, and he -would strain every effort to plague the lives of the _superiors_ class. -Some day, in some way, that effort would lead him, he felt sure, to his -father's murderer and the stolen _Chronicles_ cypher. The only item in -question was the time element. - -He spent six months in his father's private library, studying -everything he could find on locks, time vaults, hermetic chambers and -impenetrable walls. Six months more went into a thorough reading on the -various subjects of criminology, micro-fingerprints, robot detectors. - -He had begun quietly at first, a small art treasure taken from the -collection of some greedy _superiors_ millionaire. But gradually the -daring of those thefts, the absolute lack of clues, with the exception -of the tell-tale blue card, had attracted attention. In a year his fame -had spread as far as Pluto. In six months more the Nebula was a byword -in every tongue. - -The police had sworn action, the press had chuckled, and the public had -looked with open admiration on this benefactor of the downtrodden. - -Now all that was over. The Nebula was a criminal. He was accused of -murder. - -Slowly Jimmy Starr got out of bed and began to dress. Funny, he had -never thought of this contingency. Someone had seen an opportunity to -profit by his name, and had utilized it with cold-blooded efficiency. - -He lit a cheroot and stood there smoking. A bell tinkled behind him, -announcing a call on the visiphone. He crossed to the panel, touched -a stud. A voice came out of the speaker, but no image appeared on the -vision screen. - -"_Good morning, Nebula!_" - -An electric shock swept through him. His cheroot slipped from his -fingers. - -"_Good morning, Nebula. Answer please._" - -Mechanically Jimmy's fingers found the transmitting button and clicked -it over. But he stood out of range of the vision screen as he replied, -"Who's speaking?" - -The feminine voice, sweet and musical, laughed gaily. "I'm sorry I -can't tell you that. You may call me Andromeda, if you will. Now listen -closely, Jimmy Starr. I know your secret. I know that you live a dual -life, that you are that much sought after gentleman cracksman, the -Nebula." - -The voice laughed again, but there was no mockery in it. "You needn't -be afraid, Jimmy, I'm not going to let the cat out of the bag. But I -will, unless you agree to follow my orders. Is that clear?" - -For a long moment Jimmy stood there in silence. - -"Never mind," the voice continued, "I didn't expect you to admit it. -But listen. The Nebula is no longer a champion of the poor. In the eyes -of the press and the police, he has committed murder. I know that you -are innocent of that charge. It is now eight-thirty. In exactly fifteen -hours you will go to the central offices of the Crater City Trust -Company at Ninth and Planet. You will enter in any way you see fit, -open the vault and take from the compartment marked W-203 the three -articles it contains. Do you understand? Compartment W-203." - -There was a click and the visiphone was silent. - -Frantically Jimmy twisted the control switch on and off. "Hello," he -said, "hello!" - - * * * * * - -He turned slowly to face the looking glass on the opposite wall -mirrored the sudden haggardness that had entered his features. In half -an hour his entire world had crashed. His identity was known. He was -wanted for a foul crime. - -Yes, he had been hunted before, but now the police and the I.P. men -would leave no stone unturned in their efforts to capture him. His -pursuers would be relentless. - -He paced to the window and looked down on the Martian city. To the -east where the main sky ramp led to the city's space port lay the -huge ditch that was the beginning of Canal Grand. Like a crayon smear -on a piece of cardboard, it stretched off into the desert, bleak and -desolate. - - * * * * * - -At fifteen minutes past eleven that night Jimmy Starr opened a panel in -his room and took his place in a cylindrical shell, touched a control -and settled back. Save for a slight jar and an audible hum, there was -no sensation of movement. Moments later the tube-cage jarred again, -the door slid open, and he climbed out on a small lighted kiosk in the -center of a well of darkness. A narrow ramp led upward, and he made his -way to the street level in a few quick strides. - -He now stood on the intersection of Ninth and Planet. - -Jimmy Starr sauntered across the street, studying each passerby out of -the corner of his eyes. Before the entrance of the Crater City Trust -Company he paused to light a cheroot. He stood there, smoking quietly -while a turbaned Kagor from the North Desert Country shuffled by, -dragging his cumbersome third leg after him. - -Then he slipped open his tunic, exposing a small compact carry-case -strapped about his middle. Opening it, he selected from its array of -objects a slender metal tube, capped at one end. To this he quickly -fastened a small ball of hardened carponium clay. He unscrewed a cap in -the clay ball and inserted a small pellet. - -With flying fingers, he shoved the tube hard against the door lock. -That lock was not the best, but it was one of the most dependable -theft-proof devices on the market. - -Mentally he counted the seconds as each pulsation within the tube was -transmitted to his hand. At the tenth he stiffened. There was a dull -thud, a little puff of smoke, and a grating and jangling as of breaking -glass. - -Then he was inside, pacing down the center aisle of the main office. -He had no need for a torch. The place was brilliantly lighted with -overhead carboliers, and he knew that he was clearly visible from the -street. - -In rapid strides he reached the far end of the office, where an -enormous vault door of _arelium_ steel was imbedded in a frame of -_kartite_. That frame was anchored in natural rock piers ninety feet -below. The entire structure was as impregnable as human intellect could -make it. - -Jimmy Starr leaped over the low railing that separated the vault from -the office proper. Again he opened the little carry-case and from a -lower compartment took out a tightly rolled Martian papyrus. - -He was working fast now, putting into action a plan that he had formed -on his visit to this office earlier in the day. Then, while he had -stood discussing the financial status of Triplanetary Shipping with -one of the Trust Company officials, he had managed to slip out a tiny -camera and, unobserved, take a quick photograph of the rear wall of the -office. - -Back in his own apartment it had been the work of a few moments to -transfer the scene on the negative onto this elastic papyrus. - -He stood up on the railing, fastened the two ends of the papyrus to the -side wall; then, utilizing all his strength, stretched it across the -full width of the office to the opposite wall. - -Finished, he slipped behind the screen with a gay laugh. Let a passerby -gaze in the street window now. He would see a deserted office with the -unmolested vault in clear view. From the street no one could know that -vault was an enlarged photograph on a screen, and that behind that -screen crouched the most wanted cracksman on Mars--the Nebula! - -He spent a moment surveying the massive vault. "Craig-Orlan, Series A. -Model Four," he muttered appreciatively. "Mercury time lock, rondulated -tumblers, protected with individual micacaps. This is going to be -tough." - -He took from the carry-case a pair of earphones, snapped them on and -pressed their connection to the panel just below the main dial. Slowly -he began to turn that dial, straining his ears for tell-tale clicks. - -The silence of the office pressed down upon him. Far off sounded the -hollow roar as the night Earth Express blasted down to its cradle. - -For several minutes he continued. Then his brow furrowed in a frown. -"Must have a shield of some kind behind it," he muttered. He opened -the carry-case again, drew forth a tiny electrolic drill with a -wedge-shaped bit. A low hum sounded as he switched the drill on and -pressed it against the panel. - -When an aperture of half an inch in depth had been bored, he removed -the drill and placed in the opening another of his pellets. Ten seconds -and the puff of blue smoke. Once more he slipped on the headphones. - -This time a smile of satisfaction turned his lips. In the receivers he -could hear distinctly each metallic click as the grooved tumblers fell -into position. He reached up now and shoved a huge _kapar_ bar far over -in its slot. On silent hinges the enormous vault door began to open. - -But this was only the beginning. It was a full hour before he had -penetrated the second and third inner doors of the vault, another half -hour before he located in the vast array of files, Compartment W-203. - - * * * * * - -About to open it, he stood motionless in thought. What was he doing -here? Why was he ransacking the vault of the Crater City Trust, one of -the most respected and ethical financial institutions in the city? He -wanted nothing of theirs. More than that, there was a murder charge -on his head, and he was deliberately taking chances when all logic -screamed at him to hide. - -As in a dream he heard that musical voice that had come over the -visiphone, "_Listen, Jimmy Starr, I know your secret_...." He inserted -a false key in the file lock and opened it. - -Nothing! The compartment was empty. - -A wave of bitterness swept over him. He thrust the compartment -shut savagely and turned to leave the vault. Half way he halted in -mid-stride. - -A sound had reached his ears from the opposite side of the papyrus -screen, the sound of someone fumbling with the latch of the front -entrance door. - -Quickly Jimmy passed through the three doors of the vault. He -paused before the combination to slide a small card under the dial. -Pastel-blue in color, that card bore the design of the constellation -Orion. - -Then he reached up, whipped down the papyrus screen and crouched back -of the railing. The man at the front entrance had discovered the broken -lock; the door crashed open; excited footsteps pounded inward. - -Bending low, Jimmy darted down the side aisle, keeping his head well -below the top of the desks. Once he shot a look at the intruder. It -was Hamilton Garth, president of Crater City Trust! A gray-haired man -with a wiry build, an iron visage, and heavy-browed gimlet eyes. Before -the yawning door of the vault Garth stopped short and uttered a cry of -consternation. He spun on his heel and with rapid strides made for the -door. - -But not before Jimmy had reached it. He raced through the entrance just -as Garth sighted him and gave a hoarse shout. - -Jimmy raced down the street a hundred yards, then hurled himself into -an alley. A police officer was running toward him, attracted by Garth's -cries. - -Even as Jimmy crouched there, new sounds added to the confusion. The -alarm tocsin of the Crater City Trust shrilled up and up into the -rarified air. Far down the street the answering siren of the I.P. depot -rose in deafening crescendo. Jimmy could hear windows bang open in the -buildings across the thoroughfare. The emergency street lamps flared -on, turning the intersection into a stage of ghastly white. - -The alley-way in which he crouched was a dead-end. Jimmy thrust aside -the wave of helplessness that swept over him and steeled himself for -action. The Nebula couldn't be caught. Not now with brutality dogging -his footsteps. - -With a swift movement he whipped off the tunic, threw it from him. -Frantically he opened the carry-case and took from it a short -collapsible rod, a folded rakish evening cap. He shoved the carry-case -under his waist coat, hoping that the bulge would not be detected, set -the cap on his head at a jaunty angle and jerked the rod out to its -full four feet. - -That rod was an explosive detonator for use on time doors when all -other means of entrance failed. But it was a cane now. Swinging it, -Jimmy darted out into the glare of the street, then began to pace -leisurely forward straight in the direction of Crater City Trust. - -When he reached the entrance, a small crowd had gathered, and Hamilton -Garth was in their midst excitedly talking to an I.P. officer. - -"Vault doors wide open!" he was shouting. "Second and third doors, too! -It's the Nebula! I saw his card. Why the devil don't you do something?" - -The I.P. man was taking notes in a little book. "Calm yourself, Mr. -Garth," he said. "Whoever broke in here can't get away this time. The -impenetration walls have automatically closed down. The entire area is -cut off by a ring of steel." - -"But it's the Nebula I tell you, you stupid fool!" cried Garth. -"While you stand there like an idiot--" The eyes of the Trust Company -president suddenly fastened on Jimmy, leaning comfortably on his -rod-cane at the edge of the growing crowd. "Mr. Starr, I'm certainly -glad to see you. Help me. Tell me what I should do...." - -Nodding quietly, Jimmy stepped forward. To the I.P. he said casually, -"J. C. Starr, president of Triplanetary Shipping. How much has been -stolen, officer?" - -Another I.P. man emerged from the Trust office. "Only one compartment -opened, sir. W-203." - -Hamilton Garth looked bewildered. "That's odd," he said. "The W series -of files are all unused. There's nothing in any of them." - -Jimmy laughed. "Mr. Garth, you can consider yourself a lucky man. The -Nebula seems to have muffed things this time. Good night." - -He turned and sauntered off down the street. - - * * * * * - -It was the following morning, and for an hour Jimmy Starr had sat by -the visiphone in his room, waiting for a call. A tray of half-smoked -cheroots lay on the table beside the instrument. - -The bell sounded. Jimmy touched the stud. - -"_Good morning, Nebula. We failed last night, didn't we?_" - -He leaned back in his chair and smiled. Though that haunting musical -voice stirred him deeply, he had full control of himself now. For an -hour he had been preparing mentally what he would say. - -"Young woman," he said, "or Andromeda, as you choose to call yourself, -I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about. Yesterday -you made a connection with my instrument and hung up without revealing -your image. My name is James C. Starr, and if you wish to converse with -me, I suggest you show yourself. Otherwise...." - -"Wait!" The gayness left the unseen girl's voice. "Wait, don't touch -that stud. We failed last night, Jimmy Starr. But we can't fail again -tonight. Everything is at stake. Do you understand, everything. The -very future of life here on Mars. Jimmy, what do you know about the -canals?" - -"The canals?" He forgot his protestations to consider thoughtfully. -"Why nothing much. They're to be opened and filled with water in a -year. Everyone knows that. So far the locks have been giving the -engineers a little trouble, but...." - -"Not a little trouble, Jimmy. A whole lot of trouble. At the present -time specifications call for a hundred and twelve locks and sub power -stations down the length of Canal Grand alone. And there are seven -hundred and eight subsidiary canals branching into the main stem. -Add to those figures the number of lesser canals branching into the -subsidiary canals, the necessary freight and passenger depots, and you -can see what a tremendous engineering project it will be." - -"It can be done," Jimmy said confidently. - -"It can, yes, if the engineers locate a new deposit of _pxar_, the part -organic, part inorganic material that alone will withstand the terrible -refraction-rot of the red desert country." - -Jimmy didn't know what she was driving at, but what she said was true. -Refraction-rot, the multiple infra-red light radiations from the -scarlet sands of the desert played hob with all kinds of construction -work. _Pxar_ alone had the resiliency and the hardness to withstand the -terrible disintegration processes of the shifting sands. And there was -very little _pxar_ left. - -The voice continued: - -"Jimmy, I can't tell you everything yet. But I can tell you this. By -joining forces with me, you will be working toward the recovery of your -father's lost secret and the identification of the man who murdered him. - -"Tonight at midnight you will enter the offices of Phobos Enterprises -and take from their vault the paper-wrapped box on the third shelf. -Good luck, Nebula." - - * * * * * - -Phil Hanley, reporter of the _Globe_, let himself into his apartment, -strode straight to the liquor cabinet and took a stiff drink. Then he -sat down before a table and spread an array of objects before him. - -They were a curious collection: A polished _falpa_ button of the type -affected by members of the _superiors_ class; two panelled cards, -each with the design of the Constellation Orion, two rather blurred -photographs of finger prints, and a notebook. - -These findings were the results of Hanley's activities during the -night. Still obsessed with his plan to get a signed interview with the -Nebula, he had reasoned, logically enough, that the only way to do so -was to learn first the cracksman's identity. - -The button first. It was elliptical in shape and bore that curious -triangular emblem so hated by the poorer classes. Hanley had found it -on the office floor of the Crater City Trust Company. He realized, -however, that any number of _superiors_ might have business with that -establishment and that the button's presence there meant nothing. - -In rotation he examined the two panelled cards and the fingerprint -photographs. He brought a powerful atolight down and studied them with -the aid of a _proberglass_. - -At the end of five minutes a low whistle of amazement came to his lips. -He pushed glass and light away and brought forward the discovery he had -deliberately reserved for the last. The notebook. - -There was no reason to believe it the property of the Nebula. The -Nebula didn't go around dropping private journals for inquisitive -reporters to find. Hanley had discovered it half hidden in the gutter -before the entrance of the Crater City Museum where the night watchman -had been murdered. - -The notebook contained but a single page of writing. In heavy -penmanship the words read: - -_The figurines are pure pxar. The breakdown analysis will prove that, -I am sure. But whether the figurines will serve their intended -purpose is a question that can be answered only by experiment. If my -decipherment of the Chronicles is correct, I must have thousands of -them, and to obtain them it will be necessary to locate the Tombs. Does -the marking Ka Ce 54 W bear any significance?_ - -Phil Hanley read those words twice, then leaned back, frowning. -Presently he roused himself, strode to a wall cabinet and took down a -book labeled, _Ancient Mars--the Webley Theories of the Early Life_. - -He carried the book back to the table, but before he could open it, -steps sounded along the outer corridor leading to his door. A moment -later the door banged open, and a figure crossed the threshold. - -Hanley had but a split instant to utter a gasp of astonished -recognition. Then he saw the heat gun leveled directly at him, and with -a twisting leap, he lunged for the connecting door of the adjoining -room. - - * * * * * - -Jimmy Starr was panting when he reached his room. The clock on the -mantel showed five A.M., and since midnight he had been living with -double interest his role as a fugitive. - -Without realizing why, he had obeyed to the letter the instructions of -the voice on the visiphone. That single suggestion that his efforts -might lead him to the murderer of his father had spurred him on. He had -entered Phobos Enterprises, taken the package described. But getting -away this time had been a terrible ordeal. - -The I.P. men were on the alert. All Crater City patrols were -in readiness. The impenetration walls were down everywhere, -checkerboarding the metropolis into five hundred separate and distinct -guarded areas. - -Three times he had missed capture by a scant margin. He had crawled -sixty feet through an exhaust _zordite_ tube when any second the -motors leading to it might have seared his body to a crisp with their -discharges. With an I.P. man close on his heels, he had swung over a -dizzy canyon of space and catwalked across a sustaining bar from one -building to another. And it seemed now he could still hear that cry -that rose up to him on the building roof from the street below: - -"_Death to the Nebula!_" - -On the table the package for which he had risked so much lay open. -Jimmy scowled down upon its contents: three Thro-Pahl figurines, gray -in color, eighteen inches in height, each the likeness of an armor-clad -Martian of the first dynasty. To an art collector they were undoubtedly -wondrous artifacts, but to Jimmy they meant nothing. - -The visiphone bell sounded. Heart pounding, Jimmy touched the stud and -heard again that voice. - -"_Good morning, Nebula. We made it this time. I'm so glad._" - -He stared into the blank screen silently. What did she look like, the -owner of that haunting voice? Was she dark or fair? Was she...? "Who -are you?" he said huskily. - -"There isn't time for that now, Jimmy. Tell me, have you examined the -figurines?" - -He had the vision plate turned on, and he nodded in reply. - -"Look at them again. Look at their composition. It's not the carving -I'm--we're--interested in. It's their structure. Don't you see, Jimmy? -It's _pxar_." - -He didn't see, and he waited for her to continue. - -"_Pxar_--the same material that the engineers need for their -construction work for the canal locks, the only material that will -withstand the radiations of the Red Desert sands. - -"Those figurines are old, Jimmy. They were carved during the days of -the First Dynasty when the original canal locks were built. Today -there's practically none left. Yet without _pxar_ the canal project is -doomed to failure. - -"Now pick up one of the figurines and examine its base. Do you see that -tiny three-cornered prong that projects from it? Like a root, a stunted -root reaching out for nourishment." - - * * * * * - -The girl's voice became breathless. "Jimmy, that was your father's -secret. He spent the last days of his life deciphering the _Lost -Chronicles_, and for years it has been my work too. You see, chemical -analysis has proved that under certain conditions _pxar_ will grow -and reproduce its own kind. The early Martians knew this, and they -also knew that the time would come when there would be no more of it -available. So they designed those figurines to be superimposed on the -bodies of living Martians. The root-claw would then reach down, embed -itself in the flesh and suck out the vital life." - -"I--I don't understand," Jimmy said slowly. - -"Let me put it this way. If the base of one of those figurines is -fastened to the body of a Martian, the root will adhere to that body, -and the figurine will become a living parasite, growing and developing -in size, until amoeba-like, it will divide into two. - -"Jimmy, there's a monstrous plot brewing here on Mars. Your father -discovered that secret and realized it was so deadly he meant to -lock it away forever in the files of the Interplanetary Council. But -before he could do that, he was murdered and the incomplete cyphers -stolen. Those cyphers have now been worked out. Someone has made plans -to sell an enormous quantity of _pxar_ to the development company -that's building the canal locks. They're going to create that _pxar_ -by feeding those figurines and thousands like them off the bodies of -unsuspecting Martians." - -"But how?" Jimmy interjected. - -"I don't know how. Not yet, though I've been piecing the threads of -this puzzle together for weeks now. It wasn't until five days ago that -I was able to decipher completely the code of the _Chronicles_. I did -know that your father was working on the cypher, too, because he and -I frequented the same libraries, but it was only by accident that I -discovered that that cypher was the reason behind his murder. - -"Once started, the _pxar_ plot will be a plague, a Martian black death. -Once started, those figurines will multiply and grow. And here's the -damnable part of it, Jimmy. After a certain number of the figurines -have been given life, they will also acquire self mobility. Do you -understand? It means that they will spread, advance from the body of -one Martian to another of their own accord. That's the black revelation -of the _Chronicles_--_the fact that this plague happened on this planet -once before, was responsible for the complete extinction of the first -dynasty Martians_." - -He turned the gray figurine over and over in his hands. There was a -glitter in his eyes now, a glitter of excitement. Things were falling -into place in his brain like pieces of a puzzle. - -"Examine those images," the girl's voice suddenly ordered. "Do you see -any mark on them at all?" - -One by one he studied every inch of their surfaces. Abruptly his eyes -caught a tiny series of even scratches along the thigh of one of the -figurines. - -"Ka Ce 54 W," he read slowly. - -For a moment silence answered him. Then the voice uttered a low gasp. -"It's the first section of the third cypher," she said. "It means ... -wait a minute ... it means that the Tombs are in the Dur-Par section of -the desert. Jimmy, we've got to go there." - -"The Tombs?" he repeated. - -"Yes, according to the _Chronicles_, a secret store of thousands of -those parasitical figurines is hidden somewhere out in the Red Desert. -The first dynasty Martians, you see, prepared for the emergency which -they knew was inevitable, the disappearance of _pxar_ from this planet. -That was before they knew of the images' plague properties. - -"We've got a race on our hands, Jimmy. Even now the man who first stole -the figurines may be heading directly for the Tombs." - -Jimmy Starr took out a cheroot, lit it mechanically. Then he voiced a -single question. "You must have a personal interest in this matter. -What is it?" - -She had the answer for that too. "My brother," she said, "is one of -the technical officials for the canal-locks project. A murder charge -was framed on him, and he was given the alternative of being 'exposed' -to the I.P. men or agreeing to accept all the _pxar_ an unidentified -source could supply with no questions asked. He has agreed. - -"I ... I love my brother, but this has gone beyond personalities now. -This is plague, wholesale murder; all Mars is at stake." - -Jimmy Starr made an instant decision. "Where will I meet you?" he said. - -She considered. Then, "You'll find instructions at the Canal Grand -entrance. Good luck, Jimmy." - - * * * * * - -Half an hour later Jimmy climbed out of a tube-cage and emerged onto a -deserted square at the outskirts of Crater City. Before him, dim in the -overhead light, a sign read: - - THE CANALS - POSITIVELY NO TRESPASSING - ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK - -Before the sign stood a small kiosk with dusty bulletins tacked upon -it. Jimmy waited impatiently, pacing to and fro. Then his eye caught -sight of a small envelope protruding from a crevice on the kiosk wall. -It bore no name or address, but upon its surface was the design of the -Constellation Orion. - -Inside, a scrap of paper bore the written words: "_Canal Grand--south. -Way Station X. I'll meet you there._" - -He pursed his lips. What kind of a game was this? Unseen speakers on -the visiphone. Mysterious messages directing him into the unknown. It -smacked of a twentieth century thriller. - -All his inherent sense of danger warned him to turn back. In answer, -that haunting voice rang again in his ears: "_Good luck, Jimmy._" - -He turned to the stair well and began to descend. Darkness was here, -and he could feel the thick red dust under his shoes as he went down. -Fifty-seven ... fifty-eight ... first ... second ... third level. Not -until he reached the bottom and stood before the massive door leading -into the canal did he switch on his electric torch. Then he stared. - -The door yawned open. Twenty feet beyond, drawn up at the near wall of -the great ditch, was a tracto-car. And before that car there were three -men preparing to board. - -Jimmy stared as he recognized the foremost of the three. Hamilton -Garth! The Trust Company official stood there calmly in the glare of -the torch, waiting for him to approach. - -"What the devil are you doing here?" Garth demanded. - -It was a tight question, but fortunately Garth was so absorbed in his -own plans and movements that he did not wait for an answer. "Sloan and -Barker," he said shortly, waving his hand toward his two companions. -"I.P. men. We're trailing the Nebula." - -"But I thought nothing was stolen from your office," Jimmy said slowly. -"You said...." - -Garth scowled. "Money, tangibles, no. But prestige, tremendously. Do -you realize, sir, what it will mean when the public learns that a cheap -cracksman can walk into my vault as if it had a revolving door? I've -offered fifty thousand _plantoles_ for the arrest of the Nebula, and -I'm going to set an example by being the first to start on his trail." - -"I see." Jimmy studied him in thoughtful silence. "And his trail starts -here?" - -"In the canal, yes. We received an unsigned tip half an hour ago that -the Nebula was heading south down Canal Grand. You're coming with us, -of course." - -As the tracto-car rocketed dizzily down the huge ditch, Jimmy hunkered -down in the tonneau seat and let his thoughts run wild. This tip Garth -had spoken of.... Could it be that she...? - -He forced his eyes toward the way ahead, deliberately guiding his -mind into other channels. It wasn't the first time he had been in -the canals, but it was the first time he had penetrated this far. -The powerful triple-beam atolight cut a swath of radiance ahead -like a chalkmark on a blackboard. Revealed in its glare were the -mountainous-high walls of red stone on either side, the red floor -between, hard packed, smooth as a pavement. Dimly in the reflected glow -he could see the serrated lines high up near the top of the near wall, -the marks of the ancient water levels, and at intervals he could see -the crumbling ruins of a counting depot. - -What glory, what pomp and circumstance this mighty ditch had seen. -Gilded canopied barges of the first and second dynasty kings, military -floats, ore and shipping rafts, all drifting in an endless procession -across the arid wastes of the Red Desert. Army transports loaded -with armored troops advancing and retreating, converging through the -labyrinthian network of subsidiary canals to battle the capital itself. - -And today the wonders of the past were on the verge of being repeated. -Engineers were struggling frantically to overcome the one problem that -so far had baffled them--the finding of a supply of _pxar_ sufficient -to rebuild the locks. - -Ahead a lone Kiloto swooped out of the darkness into the span of light, -whirled frantically and missed the onrushing car by inches. - -Presently a low rubble of masonry loomed before them. Hamilton Garth -tapped the I.P. man driver on the shoulder. "Way station," he said. -"Pull in there. We'll look for clues." - -It was a forlorn spot. A few _pxar_ columns stood sentinel-like at the -entrance. A roofless plaisance stretched beyond. Here and there were -the remnants of crude hydro-dovolic mechanism chambers. Hamilton Garth -made a thorough examination of the place with his torch. The search was -fruitless, of course, and he stood up with a scowl. - -"I suggest we split up and look around outside," he said. "Sloan, you -take the east side; Barker, take the right, and I'll go straight down -the canals for a ways. Mr. Starr, you'd better stay here, if you don't -mind." - -It suited Jimmy. This was the place where he was scheduled to meet -Andromeda, and the sooner he could be alone, the better. Even now he -was tingling with excitement at the thought of unveiling the owner of -that hidden voice. - - * * * * * - -The two I.P. men and Garth shuffled off into the sand. Silence and the -loneliness of the Martian night closed in on Jimmy. He crossed to a -block of stone and slumped down on it wearily. From far off somewhere -the banshee scream of a prowler shattered the stillness. It died away, -came again, and then merged eerily into the wail of an Enzo-cat, the -two-headed carrion-eater of the desert. And then suddenly a voice -behind him said, "Don't look now, Jimmy, but a friend of yours is here." - -He wheeled and brought up the electric torch as simultaneously a hand -grasped his. - -"Not here, Jimmy. No light, please. Come, there's not a moment to lose." - -A slender figure was partly visible in the gloom. A faint scent of -Martian _trofero_ touched his nostrils. - -Before he could protest further he found himself guided out of the Way -Station and out into the sand. Presently a small two-seater tracto-car -rose up before them. There was no sign of Garth or the two I.P. men. -The girl leaped in, touched a stud, and the car trembled with life. Two -seconds later they were boring into the darkness. - -"Can I look now?" Jimmy demanded. - -She laughed. "If you like." - -He switched on the torch. A young dark-haired girl with clear brown -eyes and lovely features smiled back at him. She was beautiful. - -He settled deeper in the seat. "Garth and the two I.P. men. Why didn't -they come back?" - -She didn't reply to that. Savagely with a sudden frantic twist of the -wheel she maneuvered the tracto-car on a tangent toward the east bank -of the canal. Even as she did, a man-high ribbon of white irridescence -shot toward them. It was a spear-headed ellipse of blinding light with -a whipping comet-like tail. - -"Refraction-protract," she cried. Under her skillful guidance the car -turned left, then right, to miss the oncoming beam by inches. The girl -uttered a sigh of relief. "That was too close for comfort," she said. -"Those refraction-protracts are disintegrating light rays stored up by -the Red Desert sands and released by sudden changes in temperature. -We'll have to watch ourselves." - -They drove on in silence. Questions were surging through Jimmy's brain, -but he said nothing, waiting for the girl to explain. - -"Would it surprise you very much if I told you the man behind all this -is Hamilton Garth?" - -He went slowly rigid. "Garth? But he--" - -"Told you he was trailing the Nebula. That was a neat way to divert -suspicion from himself. You see, Garth, although a member of the -_superiors_ class, has been having financial trouble with both of his -companies lately, Crater City Trust, and Phobos Enterprises. Some of -his investments went wrong; in particular, an expedition he financed -to Pluto was never heard from again. He needed funds desperately and -_pxar_ was his answer. - -"How he learned that your father's work in deciphering the _Chronicles_ -was connected with this strange material, we probably shall never -know. The important thing is he did find out and immediately took -steps to acquire them. But even after he had them it was necessary to -complete the cypher before he could learn the secret. Garth must have -found a passage in some work other than the _Chronicles_ that led him -to suspect vaguely the nature of the final revelation." - -Jimmy nodded slowly. "I see," he said. "And after Garth has located the -supply of figurines, he intends to launch them on their parasitical -work and sell the supply of _pxar_ he thus accumulates to the -engineers. But neither the Martians nor the engineers would consent to -such a diabolical plan." - -The girl smiled grimly and touched a stud on the dash, increasing the -speed of the car. "Garth took care of that, too," she explained. "He -planned to advertise all over Mars a sanitarium devoted to the cure of -every conceivable kind of ill. It was to be located in the mountains -beyond the Red Desert Country. Once a patient was admitted, his doom -was sealed. - -"It was Garth, of course, who broke into the Crater City Museum, stole -the three Thro-Pahl figurines and killed the night-watchman. Previously -he had designed a fake Nebula signature card, and he left this behind -at the scene of the crime. He's a member of the _superiors_ class, you -must remember, and his hatred for the man who was making a mockery of -that class was intense." - - * * * * * - -Dawn came up slowly, a reddish haze at first, then a brilliant glare -that turned the canal into a glittering avenue of crimson reflections. -They roared east along a canal that steadily grew narrower. - -Presently, far ahead, a depression became visible in the side wall. Up -this depression a nature-formed ramp led to the upper level. - -"This is the end of the line," the girl said. She gave a short laugh. -"Do you realize, Mr. Starr, you haven't even asked me my name?" - -He colored, stammered something. - -"It's Linda," she said, "Linda Hall. Come. Up this way." - -The climb was hard, grueling work, and when at length they reached the -summit, man and girl were panting from the exertion. But here Jimmy -looked upon a scene of utter desolation. As far as the eye could reach -stretched a vast plain. No cairn, no monolithic pile of rocks broke the -bleak monotony. - -Linda, however, moved forward with a quick step. She had a small -metal box with needle dials in her hand now, and she consulted it at -intervals. For a quarter of a mile they plodded across the flat. Then -Jimmy saw that the needles on the dials were fluttering wildly. - -"Stand here," she told him. - -She moved off on a tangent, walking carefully, studying the ground. He -watched her figure grow smaller and smaller. Abruptly she halted and -waved to him frantically. He hurried to her side. - -She stood at the brink of a deep cleft in the plain floor. Rectangular -in shape, it seemed to bore down and down into measureless depths. -Jimmy felt his heart skip a beat. A flight of ladder-like stairs -descended into the well, and lying prone at the top of those stairs was -a man. - -A deep searing burn ran from his temple down the left side of his face, -about which blood had caked and hardened. Jimmy knelt and fumbled for a -pulse. A faint flutter touched his fingers. He whipped a flask from his -pocket and brought it to the man's lips. - -He moaned, opened his eyes weakly and rose up on one elbow. - -"Who are you?" Jimmy demanded. - -At first his words were unintelligible. Then the haze which clouded his -eyes cleared somewhat. - -"Name's Hanley," he said weakly. "Phil Hanley. Represent the _Martian -Globe_. Hamilton Garth's down there. We've got to stop him." - -Hanley struggled with short jerky sentences. "Garth blasted me with a -heat gun. Tried to do it once before in my own apartment, but I managed -to get away from him. This time he thought he'd done for me. He's after -the figurines. _By the blazing eternal! Are you the Nebula?_" - - * * * * * - -Six hundred and thirty-nine steps led to the bottom of the shaft. -In places the rock had crumbled so badly the greatest care had to -be taken, or a misstep would have meant plunging into the abyss. -Curiously, no sand seemed to have drifted here; the air was dry and -clear. - -Hanley, still unsteady from the burn he had received, examined the -hieroglyphics on the stone walls with puzzled eyes. - -"This place must have been discovered before," he said. "It isn't -possible that this shaft could have remained here all these years -without someone stumbling upon it." - -Linda nodded. "It's presence has been known, of course," she replied. -"It leads to an underground cavern that stretches for miles under the -surface. It's the burial place of the first dynasty Martians. But there -are many such places below the Red Desert country. Always it has been -thought they contained nothing of value." - -They reached the bottom level and stood staring out before them. Where -the floor of the desert above had been red in color, the surface here -was ochre, a dull uncertain floor that gave off a radiance of its own -and illuminated the underground cavern with a faint unreal glow. The -grotto stretched in three directions as far as the light permitted them -to see. At intervals of every twenty feet or so, large rectangular -blocks, ten to fifteen feet high and twelve feet long, dotted the -expanse. In a way the place looked like a vast apiary. - -"Each one is a grave," Linda said quietly. "The block, of course, is -only a marker. The crypt is lower down." - -Jimmy scowled. "And one of those crypts contains the figurines, eh? -Like looking for a needle in a haystack." - -She gripped his arm. "We've got to find the right one before Garth. -We've got to, do you understand! He's somewhere down here now, with -those two hirelings of his. When--if--we do find it, this will destroy -them." She pressed a short tube in Jimmy's hands. - -Like three sleep-walkers, they paced slowly out among the stone blocks. -And now Jimmy realized the proportions of the task they had set -themselves to do. Each of the blocks was equipped with a vault-like -door of massive weight and size, surrounded by a panel of those strange -hieroglyphics, and with an intricate series of bizarre lock dials on -its surface. The blocks looked exactly the same. - -Above them in the dimness of the ceiling a heavy whirring sounded, and -at intervals a curious bird-like creature with pointed wings and a -weazened human face swooped down to be momentarily visible in the half -light. - -"_Sarkonivals_," Linda said shortly. "The early Martians were -superstitious of them and transported them here to guard the burial -grounds. They must feed on a variety of moss that grows down here." - -They moved on. The rows of burial blocks seemed endless. Jimmy came to -a halt. - -"We're getting no place fast," he said. "Have you no clue at all as to -which block it might be?" - -Linda shook her head. Hanley was staring up above him, apparently -fascinated by the strange flying creatures. - -"You know," he said slowly, "I read about those _sarkonivals_ once. -They always fly in groups of an even twenty, save when some atmospheric -disturbance causes them to alter their formation." - -He pointed upward. "They _are_ all in groups of twenty except over that -block over there. Above that they seem to be in confusion." - -Jimmy followed his gaze and frowned thoughtfully. He paced forward -to the block in question, stood there watching the movements of the -_sarkonivals_. - -Suddenly he turned to Linda. "Look. See how their flying formation is -always the same? They're twenty of them up there all right, and they -start to circle the block in a compact mass. But as soon as they strike -a point directly above it, they separate. First five, then three, then -two, six, one, and three. Always the same order. Do you suppose that -might be the combination? A magnetic disturbance issuing from the block -in such a way as to prevent the usual twenty-formation and break it up -in that fashion?" - -"Jimmy!" Her eyes lighted. "I think you've got it!" - -He seized the ancient combination wheel, put his strength to it. -Slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time, it began to turn. Jimmy -hesitated. - -[Illustration: He seized the ancient combination wheel....] - -"I can't read these numerals, if they are numerals," he said. "I don't -know where to start." - -Linda studied the markings. "I think that's the symbol for absolute -zero," she said. "Try it anyway." - -He began to turn the wheel again, counting off the numbers as he -watched the irregular formation of _sarkonivals_ above him. "Five, -three, two, six, one, three." - -Twice he tried with no result. The third time there was a dull whirring -somewhere in the bowels of the block, and the door slowly swung open. -Within, a short passageway ended at another door, equipped with another -series of dials. - -Here Jimmy nodded in satisfaction. "I should be able to crack this." - -He opened his carry-case, took out the headphones and slipped them on. -Linda and Hanley pressed close, watching him. - -"Hurry," the girl said. "I don't like it here." - -A voice behind answered her. - -"No need to hurry, Mr. Starr, alias the Nebula. Just take your time, -but be sure you open it." - - * * * * * - -They wheeled. Three figures blocked the passage. In the lead, leaning -comfortably against the side wall, stood Hamilton Garth, a heat gun -leveled before him. Behind him were the two pseudo-I.P. men. - -"Very nice of you to save us the trouble of locating the figurine -cache," Garth said smoothly. "Now all you have to do is open that -inner door and then help us carry a load of the images back to our -tracto-car. You have nothing to worry about. If you obey orders, no -harm will come to you. If you don't, well, don't forget I have a nice -ace-in-the-hole. I have only to tell the world that James C. Starr, -president of Triplanetary Shipping is the much-wanted cracksman, the -Nebula." - -Jimmy, Linda, and Hanley looked at each other. - -"Come," said Garth. "This place oppresses me as much as it does you. -Get to work." - -Silently Jimmy adjusted the headphones again and began to move the -dials. Five minutes passed. Then he stood back, grasped the handle and -pulled the door open. - -The interior was black, but a click of the torch revealed row upon -row of Thro-Pahl images. There were hundreds here, and there must be -hundreds more in the lower crypt. - -And then Jimmy remembered the metal tube Linda had given him when they -first entered this underground chamber. He drew forth the tube and with -a quick motion threw it before him. - -Nothing! The crypt remained steeped in silence. - -"What was that you threw?" demanded Garth. "Answer, damn you!" - -Jimmy shrugged. "It was a tube of setro-frenalot--NSK 54," he said. -"I think you know what that means, Mr. Garth. The double detonation -explosive. If it doesn't explode upon the first impact, the slightest -jar, the slightest whisper of sound will discharge it." - -Garth's face went black with rage. "You damned double-crossing--!" - -He tossed his heat gun to one of the two pseudo-I.P. men and plunged -into the vault. Halfway the significance of Jimmy's words came home to -him. Gingerly, a step at a time, he began to work his way toward the -metal tube that lay in the light of his electric torch. - -Now he stood directly above it. He reached down, let his fingers fasten -about the tube. With the greatest of care, he lifted it and began to -catwalk back to the door of the vault. - -But at the threshold Jimmy uttered a cry of alarm and swept Linda -protectingly into his arms. - -"What's the matter?" Garth demanded. - -"The calibo-marset fire. Blue flame. It's started in the -setro-frenalot. It's going to go off." - -Garth's eyes shot wide with fear. He looked down at the tube in his -hands, then abruptly swung and hurled it through the open doorway into -the vault. - -There was a low roar, mounting to a crescendo report. A cloud of smoke -belched outward, and the ground beneath their feet trembled. At the -first indication of Garth's action, Jimmy, Linda, and Hanley had hurled -themselves backward, away from the vault door. Garth too had whirled -and leaped like a released spring to safety. - -But the two I.P. men were caught. They had not heard Jimmy's -exclamation--hadn't time to guess what was coming. An avalanche of -rubble and huge stones washed forward to sweep relentlessly over -them. An instant later only a sound of dust-rising debris and masonry -fragments marked the spot where they had stood. - -As the deafening reverberations rolled back into silence, Hamilton -Garth seemed to grasp the significance of the situation like a man -in a dream. For a moment he stood there, rigid, eyes narrowing, lips -quivering. Then with a snarl of profanity, he charged straight at Jimmy -Starr. - -Jimmy's head was still reeling dizzily from a blow dealt him by a -flying chunk of rock, and he saw the onrushing Trust man through a -haze. Garth's fist bludgeoned into his jaw. Another blow drove into -his midsection, sent a wave of nausea sweeping through him. And then -a picture of his father lying helpless on the study floor shot into -his mind's eye; with it came a sudden realization of all that the -_superiors_ class--Garth's class--stood for. He snapped his fists -forward and began to hit with all the strength he possessed at the face -before him. He was still flailing his arms in and out, when Hanley -stepped in and pulled him back. - - * * * * * - -It was the following morning, and the tracto-car was speeding smoothly -down Canal Grand. In the driver's seat sat Jimmy Starr, a bandage on -his temple, a smile on his face. - -Beside him was Linda Hall, and in the rear tonneau Phil Hanley held a -heat gun to cover the bound figure of Hamilton Garth. - -"We did it," Jimmy said at length. "The figurine cache is destroyed -forever." - -The girl nodded. - -"And the canal project won't be abandoned either," Jimmy continued. -"That explosion opened up a shaft leading to a still lower crypt where -there's enough pure _pxar_ ingots stored to build all the canal locks -the engineers need. Pure _pxar_. Not the figurine kind." - -Linda nodded again. - -"What I want to know is this," she said. "I know that that tube -you threw into the vault didn't go off the first time because the -detonator-cap didn't hit. But what kind of explosive is setro-frenalot? -I never heard of it. - -"Neither did I," Jimmy laughed. "It goes back to the juke box age of -the twentieth century. In other words, double talk." - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENTER THE NEBULA *** - -***** This file should be named 63715-0.txt or 63715-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/7/1/63715/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. 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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. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this ebook. - -Title: Enter the Nebula - -Author: Carl Jacobi - -Release Date: November 11, 2020 [EBook #63715] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENTER THE NEBULA *** -</pre> -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>ENTER THE NEBULA</h1> - -<h2>By CARL JACOBI</h2> - -<p>The greatest cracksman in the Galaxy—The<br /> -Nebula ... mocked by a gay voice that called<br /> -herself Andromeda, who led him into<br /> -danger—and into the hands of his enemy!</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Fall 1946.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Phil Hanley came out of the managing editor's office and strode -savagely to his desk in the paper littered city room. It was one P.M., -between editions, and the reporters and copy-desk men of the <i>Martian -Globe</i> were taking things easy for the moment. Hanley slumped into his -chair, kicked his feet up on his auto-typewriter, and mouthed an oath. -"He can't do it," he growled. "Who the hell does he think I am anyway? -I'll quit, that's what I'll do."</p> - -<p>"Not again," taunted McFee, a rewrite man.</p> - -<p>"Yes, again," snarled Hanley. "And this time I mean it. Do you know -what that lopsided jackass wants me to do? Get a personal interview -with the Nebula. For all <i>I</i> know, the Nebula might be a four -dimensional robot."</p> - -<p>McFee lit a cigarette and leaned against the desk. "Did the old man -really hand you that for an assignment?"</p> - -<p>Hanley nodded, his anger passing now into glumness. "It's a compliment, -I suppose," he said, "for anyone to think I might have even a chance." -His eyes turned from the room and stared unseeing through the window -into the metropolitan area of Crater City.</p> - -<p>"The Nebula," he said slowly. "Every dick and I.P. man in the System -has been tearing his hair, trying to get a lead on who or what he is. -The Nebula! The greatest cracksman of all time!"</p> - -<p>McFee exhaled a lungful of smoke. "He's quite a guy, isn't he?"</p> - -<p>Deliberately Hanley dropped his feet to the floor and sat erect. -"Listen," he said, "he's the Robin Hood of the day, if you can possibly -remember your ancient history. Two years ago he swiped the electrolic -jewels from the atomic motors of the <i>Fortuna</i>, the gambling space -ship, broke them into two hundred parts and gave them to the Society -for Orphaned Children. A year ago he entered the inner rooms of the -Venus Gallery and made off with the <i>Cosmic Lady</i>, the greatest -painting of the age.</p> - -<p>"The man's a wizard. No vault door, no lock mechanism keeps him out. -He walks in, takes what he wants, and leaves before the I.P. men know -what's happened. All they find is that little pastel-blue card with the -cluster of white dots in the shape of the Constellation Orion. That's -what gave him the name of the Nebula, you see."</p> - -<p>McFee nodded. "I know," he said, "but who is he? And what's his -permanent address?"</p> - -<p>For a moment Hanley said nothing. He reached in his pocket, drew out a -bulldog pipe and a worn tobacco pouch. A glitter was slowly entering -his eyes. "You know," he said, "I have half a mind to try and find out -at that."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The mercury clock over the white mantel chimed the hour of eight A.M., -and Jimmy Starr sat up in bed yawning. As the last note faded into -silence, the door of the room opened, and a white-haired man entered, -carrying a tray.</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Mr. Starr."</p> - -<p>"Good morning, Peters," Jimmy said. "Did you bring the paper?"</p> - -<p>The servant nodded, propped a morning edition against Jimmy's upraised -knees and placed the breakfast tray on the side of the bed. "Will you -have orange juice or Martian melon today?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Orange juice, I believe," replied Jimmy absently, and then coughed -to hide the sudden tenseness that had entered his voice. He waited -impatiently while the aged servant opened the window blinds and busied -himself about the room.</p> - -<p>When at last the man had gone, Jimmy sat bolt upright and stared at -the screaming type.</p> - -<p class="ph1">NEBULA ON THE LOOSE AGAIN<br /> -GENTLEMAN BURGLAR PROVES<br /> -TO BE COMMON CRIMINAL</p> - -<p>The running story was bitter in its denunciation. Where before those -same columns had accepted each new exploit of the Nebula as a prank -upon the police and an irritation to the wealthy, they now demanded -legal action. For this time the Nebula had committed murder!</p> - -<p>The Crater City Museum had been robbed during the night. Three -priceless Thro-Pahl figurines had been stolen. An aged night watchman -had been brutally beaten to death.</p> - -<p>"The guilt is undeniable," the paper continued. "Drunk with power, this -sadist had the effrontery to leave behind one of his mocking cards. -What are the police going to do about it?"</p> - -<p>Jimmy Starr leaned back and let a soft whistle escape from his lips. -The newspaper story was all wrong. For Jimmy Starr had spent the entire -night in his apartment. And Jimmy Starr was the Nebula!</p> - -<p>He didn't know quite how long he had been playing this dual role. -Years now, ever since his father, Randall Starr, president of the -Triplanetary Freight Lines had been murdered and had left his enormous -fortune to his son.</p> - -<p>Randall Starr had come up from poverty with his only heritage, a -brilliant mind and skillful hands. He had dabbled in a little of -everything before he had become associated with the Venus-Mars-Earth -shipping business. But all during his years of executive activity, he -had always found time for two things: his hobby, the manufacture and -study of theft-proof materials and devices; and the deciphering of the -ancient <i>Lost Chronicles</i> of Mars.</p> - -<p>It was this last that had resulted in his untimely end. Jimmy Starr -had known for a long time that his father was on the verge of a great -discovery, but what that discovery was he had had no inkling.</p> - -<p>"Wait 'til I've finished," Randall Starr would always say when -questioned. "Some day I'll have an announcement to make that will -startle all Mars."</p> - -<p>And then one night Jimmy Starr had been wakened by a terrific crash -downstairs in the lower-floor study. He had rushed to the room to -find his father stretched out on the floor, blood trickling from a -gaping wound in his head. The window was open, showing the way of the -assailant's escape. Randall Starr's filing cabinet had been thrown to -the floor and battered open with some heavy instrument. Papers lay -strewn about in wild disorder.</p> - -<p>Jimmy knelt at his father's side, in time to hear the old man's last -gasping words. "The ... Chronicles ... they took ... the five cyphers. -You must get them back, Jimmy, before the last one is completed and the -secret discovered. You must, do you understand? The future of all life -on this planet depends on it."</p> - -<p>"Who...?" choked Jimmy. "Tell me who, and I'll...."</p> - -<p>But the effort had been too great. The old man fell back, his warning -unfinished.</p> - -<p>Clues? Jimmy had employed the finest detectives on Mars in a vain -attempt to track down the guilty one. He had followed trails himself, -questioned all of his father's former friends and associates. The one -and only shred of evidence he had led him no place. This was a polished -<i>falpa</i> button which Randall Starr had torn from his assailant's tunic -during the struggle—the type of button which members of the limited -<i>superiors</i> class effected. The <i>superiors</i> were a throw-back to the -feudalistic days of a by-gone age. Powerful overlords with inherited -political and financial power, they still wielded a strong influence -over an otherwise partially modernized society.</p> - -<p>So this much Jimmy knew—his father had been murdered and the -<i>Chronicles</i> cypher taken by a man who walked in the highest brackets -of the System's social worlds.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In time Jimmy's grief passed, and he began to follow in his father's -footsteps. Theoretically, he was acting head of Triplanetary. But -with the shipping line operating smoothly with hundreds of efficient -under-officials, there was little for him to do. After graduating from -the Martian School of Technology, he toured the System in his own -space-yacht. It was that trip that brought home to him the poverty and -sordid conditions existent in the various worlds.</p> - -<p>On Venus he had seen powerful land-owners growing fat and rich while -native Kamalis and Sarakans toiled in the swamps. On Mars he had toured -the luxurious plaisances and estates of the D.O.F.C—the Descendents -of the First Colonists—and a hundred miles out in the desert had -walked through the stinking narrow streets of the Thedras, the despised -aboriginals of the West Plateaus.</p> - -<p>Then and there Jimmy Starr had decided to add a twofold purpose to his -life. He would do all in his power to aid the oppressed poor, and he -would strain every effort to plague the lives of the <i>superiors</i> class. -Some day, in some way, that effort would lead him, he felt sure, to his -father's murderer and the stolen <i>Chronicles</i> cypher. The only item in -question was the time element.</p> - -<p>He spent six months in his father's private library, studying -everything he could find on locks, time vaults, hermetic chambers and -impenetrable walls. Six months more went into a thorough reading on the -various subjects of criminology, micro-fingerprints, robot detectors.</p> - -<p>He had begun quietly at first, a small art treasure taken from the -collection of some greedy <i>superiors</i> millionaire. But gradually the -daring of those thefts, the absolute lack of clues, with the exception -of the tell-tale blue card, had attracted attention. In a year his fame -had spread as far as Pluto. In six months more the Nebula was a byword -in every tongue.</p> - -<p>The police had sworn action, the press had chuckled, and the public had -looked with open admiration on this benefactor of the downtrodden.</p> - -<p>Now all that was over. The Nebula was a criminal. He was accused of -murder.</p> - -<p>Slowly Jimmy Starr got out of bed and began to dress. Funny, he had -never thought of this contingency. Someone had seen an opportunity to -profit by his name, and had utilized it with cold-blooded efficiency.</p> - -<p>He lit a cheroot and stood there smoking. A bell tinkled behind him, -announcing a call on the visiphone. He crossed to the panel, touched -a stud. A voice came out of the speaker, but no image appeared on the -vision screen.</p> - -<p>"<i>Good morning, Nebula!</i>"</p> - -<p>An electric shock swept through him. His cheroot slipped from his -fingers.</p> - -<p>"<i>Good morning, Nebula. Answer please.</i>"</p> - -<p>Mechanically Jimmy's fingers found the transmitting button and clicked -it over. But he stood out of range of the vision screen as he replied, -"Who's speaking?"</p> - -<p>The feminine voice, sweet and musical, laughed gaily. "I'm sorry I -can't tell you that. You may call me Andromeda, if you will. Now listen -closely, Jimmy Starr. I know your secret. I know that you live a dual -life, that you are that much sought after gentleman cracksman, the -Nebula."</p> - -<p>The voice laughed again, but there was no mockery in it. "You needn't -be afraid, Jimmy, I'm not going to let the cat out of the bag. But I -will, unless you agree to follow my orders. Is that clear?"</p> - -<p>For a long moment Jimmy stood there in silence.</p> - -<p>"Never mind," the voice continued, "I didn't expect you to admit it. -But listen. The Nebula is no longer a champion of the poor. In the eyes -of the press and the police, he has committed murder. I know that you -are innocent of that charge. It is now eight-thirty. In exactly fifteen -hours you will go to the central offices of the Crater City Trust -Company at Ninth and Planet. You will enter in any way you see fit, -open the vault and take from the compartment marked W-203 the three -articles it contains. Do you understand? Compartment W-203."</p> - -<p>There was a click and the visiphone was silent.</p> - -<p>Frantically Jimmy twisted the control switch on and off. "Hello," he -said, "hello!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He turned slowly to face the looking glass on the opposite wall -mirrored the sudden haggardness that had entered his features. In half -an hour his entire world had crashed. His identity was known. He was -wanted for a foul crime.</p> - -<p>Yes, he had been hunted before, but now the police and the I.P. men -would leave no stone unturned in their efforts to capture him. His -pursuers would be relentless.</p> - -<p>He paced to the window and looked down on the Martian city. To the -east where the main sky ramp led to the city's space port lay the -huge ditch that was the beginning of Canal Grand. Like a crayon smear -on a piece of cardboard, it stretched off into the desert, bleak and -desolate.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At fifteen minutes past eleven that night Jimmy Starr opened a panel in -his room and took his place in a cylindrical shell, touched a control -and settled back. Save for a slight jar and an audible hum, there was -no sensation of movement. Moments later the tube-cage jarred again, -the door slid open, and he climbed out on a small lighted kiosk in the -center of a well of darkness. A narrow ramp led upward, and he made his -way to the street level in a few quick strides.</p> - -<p>He now stood on the intersection of Ninth and Planet.</p> - -<p>Jimmy Starr sauntered across the street, studying each passerby out of -the corner of his eyes. Before the entrance of the Crater City Trust -Company he paused to light a cheroot. He stood there, smoking quietly -while a turbaned Kagor from the North Desert Country shuffled by, -dragging his cumbersome third leg after him.</p> - -<p>Then he slipped open his tunic, exposing a small compact carry-case -strapped about his middle. Opening it, he selected from its array of -objects a slender metal tube, capped at one end. To this he quickly -fastened a small ball of hardened carponium clay. He unscrewed a cap in -the clay ball and inserted a small pellet.</p> - -<p>With flying fingers, he shoved the tube hard against the door lock. -That lock was not the best, but it was one of the most dependable -theft-proof devices on the market.</p> - -<p>Mentally he counted the seconds as each pulsation within the tube was -transmitted to his hand. At the tenth he stiffened. There was a dull -thud, a little puff of smoke, and a grating and jangling as of breaking -glass.</p> - -<p>Then he was inside, pacing down the center aisle of the main office. -He had no need for a torch. The place was brilliantly lighted with -overhead carboliers, and he knew that he was clearly visible from the -street.</p> - -<p>In rapid strides he reached the far end of the office, where an -enormous vault door of <i>arelium</i> steel was imbedded in a frame of -<i>kartite</i>. That frame was anchored in natural rock piers ninety feet -below. The entire structure was as impregnable as human intellect could -make it.</p> - -<p>Jimmy Starr leaped over the low railing that separated the vault from -the office proper. Again he opened the little carry-case and from a -lower compartment took out a tightly rolled Martian papyrus.</p> - -<p>He was working fast now, putting into action a plan that he had formed -on his visit to this office earlier in the day. Then, while he had -stood discussing the financial status of Triplanetary Shipping with -one of the Trust Company officials, he had managed to slip out a tiny -camera and, unobserved, take a quick photograph of the rear wall of the -office.</p> - -<p>Back in his own apartment it had been the work of a few moments to -transfer the scene on the negative onto this elastic papyrus.</p> - -<p>He stood up on the railing, fastened the two ends of the papyrus to the -side wall; then, utilizing all his strength, stretched it across the -full width of the office to the opposite wall.</p> - -<p>Finished, he slipped behind the screen with a gay laugh. Let a passerby -gaze in the street window now. He would see a deserted office with the -unmolested vault in clear view. From the street no one could know that -vault was an enlarged photograph on a screen, and that behind that -screen crouched the most wanted cracksman on Mars—the Nebula!</p> - -<p>He spent a moment surveying the massive vault. "Craig-Orlan, Series A. -Model Four," he muttered appreciatively. "Mercury time lock, rondulated -tumblers, protected with individual micacaps. This is going to be -tough."</p> - -<p>He took from the carry-case a pair of earphones, snapped them on and -pressed their connection to the panel just below the main dial. Slowly -he began to turn that dial, straining his ears for tell-tale clicks.</p> - -<p>The silence of the office pressed down upon him. Far off sounded the -hollow roar as the night Earth Express blasted down to its cradle.</p> - -<p>For several minutes he continued. Then his brow furrowed in a frown. -"Must have a shield of some kind behind it," he muttered. He opened -the carry-case again, drew forth a tiny electrolic drill with a -wedge-shaped bit. A low hum sounded as he switched the drill on and -pressed it against the panel.</p> - -<p>When an aperture of half an inch in depth had been bored, he removed -the drill and placed in the opening another of his pellets. Ten seconds -and the puff of blue smoke. Once more he slipped on the headphones.</p> - -<p>This time a smile of satisfaction turned his lips. In the receivers he -could hear distinctly each metallic click as the grooved tumblers fell -into position. He reached up now and shoved a huge <i>kapar</i> bar far over -in its slot. On silent hinges the enormous vault door began to open.</p> - -<p>But this was only the beginning. It was a full hour before he had -penetrated the second and third inner doors of the vault, another half -hour before he located in the vast array of files, Compartment W-203.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>About to open it, he stood motionless in thought. What was he doing -here? Why was he ransacking the vault of the Crater City Trust, one of -the most respected and ethical financial institutions in the city? He -wanted nothing of theirs. More than that, there was a murder charge -on his head, and he was deliberately taking chances when all logic -screamed at him to hide.</p> - -<p>As in a dream he heard that musical voice that had come over the -visiphone, "<i>Listen, Jimmy Starr, I know your secret</i>...." He inserted -a false key in the file lock and opened it.</p> - -<p>Nothing! The compartment was empty.</p> - -<p>A wave of bitterness swept over him. He thrust the compartment -shut savagely and turned to leave the vault. Half way he halted in -mid-stride.</p> - -<p>A sound had reached his ears from the opposite side of the papyrus -screen, the sound of someone fumbling with the latch of the front -entrance door.</p> - -<p>Quickly Jimmy passed through the three doors of the vault. He -paused before the combination to slide a small card under the dial. -Pastel-blue in color, that card bore the design of the constellation -Orion.</p> - -<p>Then he reached up, whipped down the papyrus screen and crouched back -of the railing. The man at the front entrance had discovered the broken -lock; the door crashed open; excited footsteps pounded inward.</p> - -<p>Bending low, Jimmy darted down the side aisle, keeping his head well -below the top of the desks. Once he shot a look at the intruder. It -was Hamilton Garth, president of Crater City Trust! A gray-haired man -with a wiry build, an iron visage, and heavy-browed gimlet eyes. Before -the yawning door of the vault Garth stopped short and uttered a cry of -consternation. He spun on his heel and with rapid strides made for the -door.</p> - -<p>But not before Jimmy had reached it. He raced through the entrance just -as Garth sighted him and gave a hoarse shout.</p> - -<p>Jimmy raced down the street a hundred yards, then hurled himself into -an alley. A police officer was running toward him, attracted by Garth's -cries.</p> - -<p>Even as Jimmy crouched there, new sounds added to the confusion. The -alarm tocsin of the Crater City Trust shrilled up and up into the -rarified air. Far down the street the answering siren of the I.P. depot -rose in deafening crescendo. Jimmy could hear windows bang open in the -buildings across the thoroughfare. The emergency street lamps flared -on, turning the intersection into a stage of ghastly white.</p> - -<p>The alley-way in which he crouched was a dead-end. Jimmy thrust aside -the wave of helplessness that swept over him and steeled himself for -action. The Nebula couldn't be caught. Not now with brutality dogging -his footsteps.</p> - -<p>With a swift movement he whipped off the tunic, threw it from him. -Frantically he opened the carry-case and took from it a short -collapsible rod, a folded rakish evening cap. He shoved the carry-case -under his waist coat, hoping that the bulge would not be detected, set -the cap on his head at a jaunty angle and jerked the rod out to its -full four feet.</p> - -<p>That rod was an explosive detonator for use on time doors when all -other means of entrance failed. But it was a cane now. Swinging it, -Jimmy darted out into the glare of the street, then began to pace -leisurely forward straight in the direction of Crater City Trust.</p> - -<p>When he reached the entrance, a small crowd had gathered, and Hamilton -Garth was in their midst excitedly talking to an I.P. officer.</p> - -<p>"Vault doors wide open!" he was shouting. "Second and third doors, too! -It's the Nebula! I saw his card. Why the devil don't you do something?"</p> - -<p>The I.P. man was taking notes in a little book. "Calm yourself, Mr. -Garth," he said. "Whoever broke in here can't get away this time. The -impenetration walls have automatically closed down. The entire area is -cut off by a ring of steel."</p> - -<p>"But it's the Nebula I tell you, you stupid fool!" cried Garth. -"While you stand there like an idiot—" The eyes of the Trust Company -president suddenly fastened on Jimmy, leaning comfortably on his -rod-cane at the edge of the growing crowd. "Mr. Starr, I'm certainly -glad to see you. Help me. Tell me what I should do...."</p> - -<p>Nodding quietly, Jimmy stepped forward. To the I.P. he said casually, -"J. C. Starr, president of Triplanetary Shipping. How much has been -stolen, officer?"</p> - -<p>Another I.P. man emerged from the Trust office. "Only one compartment -opened, sir. W-203."</p> - -<p>Hamilton Garth looked bewildered. "That's odd," he said. "The W series -of files are all unused. There's nothing in any of them."</p> - -<p>Jimmy laughed. "Mr. Garth, you can consider yourself a lucky man. The -Nebula seems to have muffed things this time. Good night."</p> - -<p>He turned and sauntered off down the street.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was the following morning, and for an hour Jimmy Starr had sat by -the visiphone in his room, waiting for a call. A tray of half-smoked -cheroots lay on the table beside the instrument.</p> - -<p>The bell sounded. Jimmy touched the stud.</p> - -<p>"<i>Good morning, Nebula. We failed last night, didn't we?</i>"</p> - -<p>He leaned back in his chair and smiled. Though that haunting musical -voice stirred him deeply, he had full control of himself now. For an -hour he had been preparing mentally what he would say.</p> - -<p>"Young woman," he said, "or Andromeda, as you choose to call yourself, -I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about. Yesterday -you made a connection with my instrument and hung up without revealing -your image. My name is James C. Starr, and if you wish to converse with -me, I suggest you show yourself. Otherwise...."</p> - -<p>"Wait!" The gayness left the unseen girl's voice. "Wait, don't touch -that stud. We failed last night, Jimmy Starr. But we can't fail again -tonight. Everything is at stake. Do you understand, everything. The -very future of life here on Mars. Jimmy, what do you know about the -canals?"</p> - -<p>"The canals?" He forgot his protestations to consider thoughtfully. -"Why nothing much. They're to be opened and filled with water in a -year. Everyone knows that. So far the locks have been giving the -engineers a little trouble, but...."</p> - -<p>"Not a little trouble, Jimmy. A whole lot of trouble. At the present -time specifications call for a hundred and twelve locks and sub power -stations down the length of Canal Grand alone. And there are seven -hundred and eight subsidiary canals branching into the main stem. -Add to those figures the number of lesser canals branching into the -subsidiary canals, the necessary freight and passenger depots, and you -can see what a tremendous engineering project it will be."</p> - -<p>"It can be done," Jimmy said confidently.</p> - -<p>"It can, yes, if the engineers locate a new deposit of <i>pxar</i>, the part -organic, part inorganic material that alone will withstand the terrible -refraction-rot of the red desert country."</p> - -<p>Jimmy didn't know what she was driving at, but what she said was true. -Refraction-rot, the multiple infra-red light radiations from the -scarlet sands of the desert played hob with all kinds of construction -work. <i>Pxar</i> alone had the resiliency and the hardness to withstand the -terrible disintegration processes of the shifting sands. And there was -very little <i>pxar</i> left.</p> - -<p>The voice continued:</p> - -<p>"Jimmy, I can't tell you everything yet. But I can tell you this. By -joining forces with me, you will be working toward the recovery of your -father's lost secret and the identification of the man who murdered him.</p> - -<p>"Tonight at midnight you will enter the offices of Phobos Enterprises -and take from their vault the paper-wrapped box on the third shelf. -Good luck, Nebula."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Phil Hanley, reporter of the <i>Globe</i>, let himself into his apartment, -strode straight to the liquor cabinet and took a stiff drink. Then he -sat down before a table and spread an array of objects before him.</p> - -<p>They were a curious collection: A polished <i>falpa</i> button of the type -affected by members of the <i>superiors</i> class; two panelled cards, -each with the design of the Constellation Orion, two rather blurred -photographs of finger prints, and a notebook.</p> - -<p>These findings were the results of Hanley's activities during the -night. Still obsessed with his plan to get a signed interview with the -Nebula, he had reasoned, logically enough, that the only way to do so -was to learn first the cracksman's identity.</p> - -<p>The button first. It was elliptical in shape and bore that curious -triangular emblem so hated by the poorer classes. Hanley had found it -on the office floor of the Crater City Trust Company. He realized, -however, that any number of <i>superiors</i> might have business with that -establishment and that the button's presence there meant nothing.</p> - -<p>In rotation he examined the two panelled cards and the fingerprint -photographs. He brought a powerful atolight down and studied them with -the aid of a <i>proberglass</i>.</p> - -<p>At the end of five minutes a low whistle of amazement came to his lips. -He pushed glass and light away and brought forward the discovery he had -deliberately reserved for the last. The notebook.</p> - -<p>There was no reason to believe it the property of the Nebula. The -Nebula didn't go around dropping private journals for inquisitive -reporters to find. Hanley had discovered it half hidden in the gutter -before the entrance of the Crater City Museum where the night watchman -had been murdered.</p> - -<p>The notebook contained but a single page of writing. In heavy -penmanship the words read:</p> - -<p><i>The figurines are pure pxar. The breakdown analysis will prove that, -I am sure. But whether the figurines will serve their intended -purpose is a question that can be answered only by experiment. If my -decipherment of the Chronicles is correct, I must have thousands of -them, and to obtain them it will be necessary to locate the Tombs. Does -the marking Ka Ce 54 W bear any significance?</i></p> - -<p>Phil Hanley read those words twice, then leaned back, frowning. -Presently he roused himself, strode to a wall cabinet and took down a -book labeled, <i>Ancient Mars—the Webley Theories of the Early Life</i>.</p> - -<p>He carried the book back to the table, but before he could open it, -steps sounded along the outer corridor leading to his door. A moment -later the door banged open, and a figure crossed the threshold.</p> - -<p>Hanley had but a split instant to utter a gasp of astonished -recognition. Then he saw the heat gun leveled directly at him, and with -a twisting leap, he lunged for the connecting door of the adjoining -room.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Jimmy Starr was panting when he reached his room. The clock on the -mantel showed five A.M., and since midnight he had been living with -double interest his role as a fugitive.</p> - -<p>Without realizing why, he had obeyed to the letter the instructions of -the voice on the visiphone. That single suggestion that his efforts -might lead him to the murderer of his father had spurred him on. He had -entered Phobos Enterprises, taken the package described. But getting -away this time had been a terrible ordeal.</p> - -<p>The I.P. men were on the alert. All Crater City patrols were -in readiness. The impenetration walls were down everywhere, -checkerboarding the metropolis into five hundred separate and distinct -guarded areas.</p> - -<p>Three times he had missed capture by a scant margin. He had crawled -sixty feet through an exhaust <i>zordite</i> tube when any second the -motors leading to it might have seared his body to a crisp with their -discharges. With an I.P. man close on his heels, he had swung over a -dizzy canyon of space and catwalked across a sustaining bar from one -building to another. And it seemed now he could still hear that cry -that rose up to him on the building roof from the street below:</p> - -<p>"<i>Death to the Nebula!</i>"</p> - -<p>On the table the package for which he had risked so much lay open. -Jimmy scowled down upon its contents: three Thro-Pahl figurines, gray -in color, eighteen inches in height, each the likeness of an armor-clad -Martian of the first dynasty. To an art collector they were undoubtedly -wondrous artifacts, but to Jimmy they meant nothing.</p> - -<p>The visiphone bell sounded. Heart pounding, Jimmy touched the stud and -heard again that voice.</p> - -<p>"<i>Good morning, Nebula. We made it this time. I'm so glad.</i>"</p> - -<p>He stared into the blank screen silently. What did she look like, the -owner of that haunting voice? Was she dark or fair? Was she...? "Who -are you?" he said huskily.</p> - -<p>"There isn't time for that now, Jimmy. Tell me, have you examined the -figurines?"</p> - -<p>He had the vision plate turned on, and he nodded in reply.</p> - -<p>"Look at them again. Look at their composition. It's not the carving -I'm—we're—interested in. It's their structure. Don't you see, Jimmy? -It's <i>pxar</i>."</p> - -<p>He didn't see, and he waited for her to continue.</p> - -<p>"<i>Pxar</i>—the same material that the engineers need for their -construction work for the canal locks, the only material that will -withstand the radiations of the Red Desert sands.</p> - -<p>"Those figurines are old, Jimmy. They were carved during the days of -the First Dynasty when the original canal locks were built. Today -there's practically none left. Yet without <i>pxar</i> the canal project is -doomed to failure.</p> - -<p>"Now pick up one of the figurines and examine its base. Do you see that -tiny three-cornered prong that projects from it? Like a root, a stunted -root reaching out for nourishment."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The girl's voice became breathless. "Jimmy, that was your father's -secret. He spent the last days of his life deciphering the <i>Lost -Chronicles</i>, and for years it has been my work too. You see, chemical -analysis has proved that under certain conditions <i>pxar</i> will grow -and reproduce its own kind. The early Martians knew this, and they -also knew that the time would come when there would be no more of it -available. So they designed those figurines to be superimposed on the -bodies of living Martians. The root-claw would then reach down, embed -itself in the flesh and suck out the vital life."</p> - -<p>"I—I don't understand," Jimmy said slowly.</p> - -<p>"Let me put it this way. If the base of one of those figurines is -fastened to the body of a Martian, the root will adhere to that body, -and the figurine will become a living parasite, growing and developing -in size, until amoeba-like, it will divide into two.</p> - -<p>"Jimmy, there's a monstrous plot brewing here on Mars. Your father -discovered that secret and realized it was so deadly he meant to -lock it away forever in the files of the Interplanetary Council. But -before he could do that, he was murdered and the incomplete cyphers -stolen. Those cyphers have now been worked out. Someone has made plans -to sell an enormous quantity of <i>pxar</i> to the development company -that's building the canal locks. They're going to create that <i>pxar</i> -by feeding those figurines and thousands like them off the bodies of -unsuspecting Martians."</p> - -<p>"But how?" Jimmy interjected.</p> - -<p>"I don't know how. Not yet, though I've been piecing the threads of -this puzzle together for weeks now. It wasn't until five days ago that -I was able to decipher completely the code of the <i>Chronicles</i>. I did -know that your father was working on the cypher, too, because he and -I frequented the same libraries, but it was only by accident that I -discovered that that cypher was the reason behind his murder.</p> - -<p>"Once started, the <i>pxar</i> plot will be a plague, a Martian black death. -Once started, those figurines will multiply and grow. And here's the -damnable part of it, Jimmy. After a certain number of the figurines -have been given life, they will also acquire self mobility. Do you -understand? It means that they will spread, advance from the body of -one Martian to another of their own accord. That's the black revelation -of the <i>Chronicles</i>—<i>the fact that this plague happened on this planet -once before, was responsible for the complete extinction of the first -dynasty Martians</i>."</p> - -<p>He turned the gray figurine over and over in his hands. There was a -glitter in his eyes now, a glitter of excitement. Things were falling -into place in his brain like pieces of a puzzle.</p> - -<p>"Examine those images," the girl's voice suddenly ordered. "Do you see -any mark on them at all?"</p> - -<p>One by one he studied every inch of their surfaces. Abruptly his eyes -caught a tiny series of even scratches along the thigh of one of the -figurines.</p> - -<p>"Ka Ce 54 W," he read slowly.</p> - -<p>For a moment silence answered him. Then the voice uttered a low gasp. -"It's the first section of the third cypher," she said. "It means ... -wait a minute ... it means that the Tombs are in the Dur-Par section of -the desert. Jimmy, we've got to go there."</p> - -<p>"The Tombs?" he repeated.</p> - -<p>"Yes, according to the <i>Chronicles</i>, a secret store of thousands of -those parasitical figurines is hidden somewhere out in the Red Desert. -The first dynasty Martians, you see, prepared for the emergency which -they knew was inevitable, the disappearance of <i>pxar</i> from this planet. -That was before they knew of the images' plague properties.</p> - -<p>"We've got a race on our hands, Jimmy. Even now the man who first stole -the figurines may be heading directly for the Tombs."</p> - -<p>Jimmy Starr took out a cheroot, lit it mechanically. Then he voiced a -single question. "You must have a personal interest in this matter. -What is it?"</p> - -<p>She had the answer for that too. "My brother," she said, "is one of -the technical officials for the canal-locks project. A murder charge -was framed on him, and he was given the alternative of being 'exposed' -to the I.P. men or agreeing to accept all the <i>pxar</i> an unidentified -source could supply with no questions asked. He has agreed.</p> - -<p>"I ... I love my brother, but this has gone beyond personalities now. -This is plague, wholesale murder; all Mars is at stake."</p> - -<p>Jimmy Starr made an instant decision. "Where will I meet you?" he said.</p> - -<p>She considered. Then, "You'll find instructions at the Canal Grand -entrance. Good luck, Jimmy."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Half an hour later Jimmy climbed out of a tube-cage and emerged onto a -deserted square at the outskirts of Crater City. Before him, dim in the -overhead light, a sign read:</p> - -<p class="ph1">THE CANALS<br /> -POSITIVELY NO TRESPASSING<br /> -ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK</p> - -<p>Before the sign stood a small kiosk with dusty bulletins tacked upon -it. Jimmy waited impatiently, pacing to and fro. Then his eye caught -sight of a small envelope protruding from a crevice on the kiosk wall. -It bore no name or address, but upon its surface was the design of the -Constellation Orion.</p> - -<p>Inside, a scrap of paper bore the written words: "<i>Canal Grand—south. -Way Station X. I'll meet you there.</i>"</p> - -<p>He pursed his lips. What kind of a game was this? Unseen speakers on -the visiphone. Mysterious messages directing him into the unknown. It -smacked of a twentieth century thriller.</p> - -<p>All his inherent sense of danger warned him to turn back. In answer, -that haunting voice rang again in his ears: "<i>Good luck, Jimmy.</i>"</p> - -<p>He turned to the stair well and began to descend. Darkness was here, -and he could feel the thick red dust under his shoes as he went down. -Fifty-seven ... fifty-eight ... first ... second ... third level. Not -until he reached the bottom and stood before the massive door leading -into the canal did he switch on his electric torch. Then he stared.</p> - -<p>The door yawned open. Twenty feet beyond, drawn up at the near wall of -the great ditch, was a tracto-car. And before that car there were three -men preparing to board.</p> - -<p>Jimmy stared as he recognized the foremost of the three. Hamilton -Garth! The Trust Company official stood there calmly in the glare of -the torch, waiting for him to approach.</p> - -<p>"What the devil are you doing here?" Garth demanded.</p> - -<p>It was a tight question, but fortunately Garth was so absorbed in his -own plans and movements that he did not wait for an answer. "Sloan and -Barker," he said shortly, waving his hand toward his two companions. -"I.P. men. We're trailing the Nebula."</p> - -<p>"But I thought nothing was stolen from your office," Jimmy said slowly. -"You said...."</p> - -<p>Garth scowled. "Money, tangibles, no. But prestige, tremendously. Do -you realize, sir, what it will mean when the public learns that a cheap -cracksman can walk into my vault as if it had a revolving door? I've -offered fifty thousand <i>plantoles</i> for the arrest of the Nebula, and -I'm going to set an example by being the first to start on his trail."</p> - -<p>"I see." Jimmy studied him in thoughtful silence. "And his trail starts -here?"</p> - -<p>"In the canal, yes. We received an unsigned tip half an hour ago that -the Nebula was heading south down Canal Grand. You're coming with us, -of course."</p> - -<p>As the tracto-car rocketed dizzily down the huge ditch, Jimmy hunkered -down in the tonneau seat and let his thoughts run wild. This tip Garth -had spoken of.... Could it be that she...?</p> - -<p>He forced his eyes toward the way ahead, deliberately guiding his -mind into other channels. It wasn't the first time he had been in -the canals, but it was the first time he had penetrated this far. -The powerful triple-beam atolight cut a swath of radiance ahead -like a chalkmark on a blackboard. Revealed in its glare were the -mountainous-high walls of red stone on either side, the red floor -between, hard packed, smooth as a pavement. Dimly in the reflected glow -he could see the serrated lines high up near the top of the near wall, -the marks of the ancient water levels, and at intervals he could see -the crumbling ruins of a counting depot.</p> - -<p>What glory, what pomp and circumstance this mighty ditch had seen. -Gilded canopied barges of the first and second dynasty kings, military -floats, ore and shipping rafts, all drifting in an endless procession -across the arid wastes of the Red Desert. Army transports loaded -with armored troops advancing and retreating, converging through the -labyrinthian network of subsidiary canals to battle the capital itself.</p> - -<p>And today the wonders of the past were on the verge of being repeated. -Engineers were struggling frantically to overcome the one problem that -so far had baffled them—the finding of a supply of <i>pxar</i> sufficient -to rebuild the locks.</p> - -<p>Ahead a lone Kiloto swooped out of the darkness into the span of light, -whirled frantically and missed the onrushing car by inches.</p> - -<p>Presently a low rubble of masonry loomed before them. Hamilton Garth -tapped the I.P. man driver on the shoulder. "Way station," he said. -"Pull in there. We'll look for clues."</p> - -<p>It was a forlorn spot. A few <i>pxar</i> columns stood sentinel-like at the -entrance. A roofless plaisance stretched beyond. Here and there were -the remnants of crude hydro-dovolic mechanism chambers. Hamilton Garth -made a thorough examination of the place with his torch. The search was -fruitless, of course, and he stood up with a scowl.</p> - -<p>"I suggest we split up and look around outside," he said. "Sloan, you -take the east side; Barker, take the right, and I'll go straight down -the canals for a ways. Mr. Starr, you'd better stay here, if you don't -mind."</p> - -<p>It suited Jimmy. This was the place where he was scheduled to meet -Andromeda, and the sooner he could be alone, the better. Even now he -was tingling with excitement at the thought of unveiling the owner of -that hidden voice.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The two I.P. men and Garth shuffled off into the sand. Silence and the -loneliness of the Martian night closed in on Jimmy. He crossed to a -block of stone and slumped down on it wearily. From far off somewhere -the banshee scream of a prowler shattered the stillness. It died away, -came again, and then merged eerily into the wail of an Enzo-cat, the -two-headed carrion-eater of the desert. And then suddenly a voice -behind him said, "Don't look now, Jimmy, but a friend of yours is here."</p> - -<p>He wheeled and brought up the electric torch as simultaneously a hand -grasped his.</p> - -<p>"Not here, Jimmy. No light, please. Come, there's not a moment to lose."</p> - -<p>A slender figure was partly visible in the gloom. A faint scent of -Martian <i>trofero</i> touched his nostrils.</p> - -<p>Before he could protest further he found himself guided out of the Way -Station and out into the sand. Presently a small two-seater tracto-car -rose up before them. There was no sign of Garth or the two I.P. men. -The girl leaped in, touched a stud, and the car trembled with life. Two -seconds later they were boring into the darkness.</p> - -<p>"Can I look now?" Jimmy demanded.</p> - -<p>She laughed. "If you like."</p> - -<p>He switched on the torch. A young dark-haired girl with clear brown -eyes and lovely features smiled back at him. She was beautiful.</p> - -<p>He settled deeper in the seat. "Garth and the two I.P. men. Why didn't -they come back?"</p> - -<p>She didn't reply to that. Savagely with a sudden frantic twist of the -wheel she maneuvered the tracto-car on a tangent toward the east bank -of the canal. Even as she did, a man-high ribbon of white irridescence -shot toward them. It was a spear-headed ellipse of blinding light with -a whipping comet-like tail.</p> - -<p>"Refraction-protract," she cried. Under her skillful guidance the car -turned left, then right, to miss the oncoming beam by inches. The girl -uttered a sigh of relief. "That was too close for comfort," she said. -"Those refraction-protracts are disintegrating light rays stored up by -the Red Desert sands and released by sudden changes in temperature. -We'll have to watch ourselves."</p> - -<p>They drove on in silence. Questions were surging through Jimmy's brain, -but he said nothing, waiting for the girl to explain.</p> - -<p>"Would it surprise you very much if I told you the man behind all this -is Hamilton Garth?"</p> - -<p>He went slowly rigid. "Garth? But he—"</p> - -<p>"Told you he was trailing the Nebula. That was a neat way to divert -suspicion from himself. You see, Garth, although a member of the -<i>superiors</i> class, has been having financial trouble with both of his -companies lately, Crater City Trust, and Phobos Enterprises. Some of -his investments went wrong; in particular, an expedition he financed -to Pluto was never heard from again. He needed funds desperately and -<i>pxar</i> was his answer.</p> - -<p>"How he learned that your father's work in deciphering the <i>Chronicles</i> -was connected with this strange material, we probably shall never -know. The important thing is he did find out and immediately took -steps to acquire them. But even after he had them it was necessary to -complete the cypher before he could learn the secret. Garth must have -found a passage in some work other than the <i>Chronicles</i> that led him -to suspect vaguely the nature of the final revelation."</p> - -<p>Jimmy nodded slowly. "I see," he said. "And after Garth has located the -supply of figurines, he intends to launch them on their parasitical -work and sell the supply of <i>pxar</i> he thus accumulates to the -engineers. But neither the Martians nor the engineers would consent to -such a diabolical plan."</p> - -<p>The girl smiled grimly and touched a stud on the dash, increasing the -speed of the car. "Garth took care of that, too," she explained. "He -planned to advertise all over Mars a sanitarium devoted to the cure of -every conceivable kind of ill. It was to be located in the mountains -beyond the Red Desert Country. Once a patient was admitted, his doom -was sealed.</p> - -<p>"It was Garth, of course, who broke into the Crater City Museum, stole -the three Thro-Pahl figurines and killed the night-watchman. Previously -he had designed a fake Nebula signature card, and he left this behind -at the scene of the crime. He's a member of the <i>superiors</i> class, you -must remember, and his hatred for the man who was making a mockery of -that class was intense."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Dawn came up slowly, a reddish haze at first, then a brilliant glare -that turned the canal into a glittering avenue of crimson reflections. -They roared east along a canal that steadily grew narrower.</p> - -<p>Presently, far ahead, a depression became visible in the side wall. Up -this depression a nature-formed ramp led to the upper level.</p> - -<p>"This is the end of the line," the girl said. She gave a short laugh. -"Do you realize, Mr. Starr, you haven't even asked me my name?"</p> - -<p>He colored, stammered something.</p> - -<p>"It's Linda," she said, "Linda Hall. Come. Up this way."</p> - -<p>The climb was hard, grueling work, and when at length they reached the -summit, man and girl were panting from the exertion. But here Jimmy -looked upon a scene of utter desolation. As far as the eye could reach -stretched a vast plain. No cairn, no monolithic pile of rocks broke the -bleak monotony.</p> - -<p>Linda, however, moved forward with a quick step. She had a small -metal box with needle dials in her hand now, and she consulted it at -intervals. For a quarter of a mile they plodded across the flat. Then -Jimmy saw that the needles on the dials were fluttering wildly.</p> - -<p>"Stand here," she told him.</p> - -<p>She moved off on a tangent, walking carefully, studying the ground. He -watched her figure grow smaller and smaller. Abruptly she halted and -waved to him frantically. He hurried to her side.</p> - -<p>She stood at the brink of a deep cleft in the plain floor. Rectangular -in shape, it seemed to bore down and down into measureless depths. -Jimmy felt his heart skip a beat. A flight of ladder-like stairs -descended into the well, and lying prone at the top of those stairs was -a man.</p> - -<p>A deep searing burn ran from his temple down the left side of his face, -about which blood had caked and hardened. Jimmy knelt and fumbled for a -pulse. A faint flutter touched his fingers. He whipped a flask from his -pocket and brought it to the man's lips.</p> - -<p>He moaned, opened his eyes weakly and rose up on one elbow.</p> - -<p>"Who are you?" Jimmy demanded.</p> - -<p>At first his words were unintelligible. Then the haze which clouded his -eyes cleared somewhat.</p> - -<p>"Name's Hanley," he said weakly. "Phil Hanley. Represent the <i>Martian -Globe</i>. Hamilton Garth's down there. We've got to stop him."</p> - -<p>Hanley struggled with short jerky sentences. "Garth blasted me with a -heat gun. Tried to do it once before in my own apartment, but I managed -to get away from him. This time he thought he'd done for me. He's after -the figurines. <i>By the blazing eternal! Are you the Nebula?</i>"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Six hundred and thirty-nine steps led to the bottom of the shaft. -In places the rock had crumbled so badly the greatest care had to -be taken, or a misstep would have meant plunging into the abyss. -Curiously, no sand seemed to have drifted here; the air was dry and -clear.</p> - -<p>Hanley, still unsteady from the burn he had received, examined the -hieroglyphics on the stone walls with puzzled eyes.</p> - -<p>"This place must have been discovered before," he said. "It isn't -possible that this shaft could have remained here all these years -without someone stumbling upon it."</p> - -<p>Linda nodded. "It's presence has been known, of course," she replied. -"It leads to an underground cavern that stretches for miles under the -surface. It's the burial place of the first dynasty Martians. But there -are many such places below the Red Desert country. Always it has been -thought they contained nothing of value."</p> - -<p>They reached the bottom level and stood staring out before them. Where -the floor of the desert above had been red in color, the surface here -was ochre, a dull uncertain floor that gave off a radiance of its own -and illuminated the underground cavern with a faint unreal glow. The -grotto stretched in three directions as far as the light permitted them -to see. At intervals of every twenty feet or so, large rectangular -blocks, ten to fifteen feet high and twelve feet long, dotted the -expanse. In a way the place looked like a vast apiary.</p> - -<p>"Each one is a grave," Linda said quietly. "The block, of course, is -only a marker. The crypt is lower down."</p> - -<p>Jimmy scowled. "And one of those crypts contains the figurines, eh? -Like looking for a needle in a haystack."</p> - -<p>She gripped his arm. "We've got to find the right one before Garth. -We've got to, do you understand! He's somewhere down here now, with -those two hirelings of his. When—if—we do find it, this will destroy -them." She pressed a short tube in Jimmy's hands.</p> - -<p>Like three sleep-walkers, they paced slowly out among the stone blocks. -And now Jimmy realized the proportions of the task they had set -themselves to do. Each of the blocks was equipped with a vault-like -door of massive weight and size, surrounded by a panel of those strange -hieroglyphics, and with an intricate series of bizarre lock dials on -its surface. The blocks looked exactly the same.</p> - -<p>Above them in the dimness of the ceiling a heavy whirring sounded, and -at intervals a curious bird-like creature with pointed wings and a -weazened human face swooped down to be momentarily visible in the half -light.</p> - -<p>"<i>Sarkonivals</i>," Linda said shortly. "The early Martians were -superstitious of them and transported them here to guard the burial -grounds. They must feed on a variety of moss that grows down here."</p> - -<p>They moved on. The rows of burial blocks seemed endless. Jimmy came to -a halt.</p> - -<p>"We're getting no place fast," he said. "Have you no clue at all as to -which block it might be?"</p> - -<p>Linda shook her head. Hanley was staring up above him, apparently -fascinated by the strange flying creatures.</p> - -<p>"You know," he said slowly, "I read about those <i>sarkonivals</i> once. -They always fly in groups of an even twenty, save when some atmospheric -disturbance causes them to alter their formation."</p> - -<p>He pointed upward. "They <i>are</i> all in groups of twenty except over that -block over there. Above that they seem to be in confusion."</p> - -<p>Jimmy followed his gaze and frowned thoughtfully. He paced forward -to the block in question, stood there watching the movements of the -<i>sarkonivals</i>.</p> - -<p>Suddenly he turned to Linda. "Look. See how their flying formation is -always the same? They're twenty of them up there all right, and they -start to circle the block in a compact mass. But as soon as they strike -a point directly above it, they separate. First five, then three, then -two, six, one, and three. Always the same order. Do you suppose that -might be the combination? A magnetic disturbance issuing from the block -in such a way as to prevent the usual twenty-formation and break it up -in that fashion?"</p> - -<p>"Jimmy!" Her eyes lighted. "I think you've got it!"</p> - -<p>He seized the ancient combination wheel, put his strength to it. -Slowly, a fraction of an inch at a time, it began to turn. Jimmy -hesitated.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> - <div class="caption"> - <p><i>He seized the ancient combination wheel</i>....</p> - </div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"I can't read these numerals, if they are numerals," he said. "I don't -know where to start."</p> - -<p>Linda studied the markings. "I think that's the symbol for absolute -zero," she said. "Try it anyway."</p> - -<p>He began to turn the wheel again, counting off the numbers as he -watched the irregular formation of <i>sarkonivals</i> above him. "Five, -three, two, six, one, three."</p> - -<p>Twice he tried with no result. The third time there was a dull whirring -somewhere in the bowels of the block, and the door slowly swung open. -Within, a short passageway ended at another door, equipped with another -series of dials.</p> - -<p>Here Jimmy nodded in satisfaction. "I should be able to crack this."</p> - -<p>He opened his carry-case, took out the headphones and slipped them on. -Linda and Hanley pressed close, watching him.</p> - -<p>"Hurry," the girl said. "I don't like it here."</p> - -<p>A voice behind answered her.</p> - -<p>"No need to hurry, Mr. Starr, alias the Nebula. Just take your time, -but be sure you open it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They wheeled. Three figures blocked the passage. In the lead, leaning -comfortably against the side wall, stood Hamilton Garth, a heat gun -leveled before him. Behind him were the two pseudo-I.P. men.</p> - -<p>"Very nice of you to save us the trouble of locating the figurine -cache," Garth said smoothly. "Now all you have to do is open that -inner door and then help us carry a load of the images back to our -tracto-car. You have nothing to worry about. If you obey orders, no -harm will come to you. If you don't, well, don't forget I have a nice -ace-in-the-hole. I have only to tell the world that James C. Starr, -president of Triplanetary Shipping is the much-wanted cracksman, the -Nebula."</p> - -<p>Jimmy, Linda, and Hanley looked at each other.</p> - -<p>"Come," said Garth. "This place oppresses me as much as it does you. -Get to work."</p> - -<p>Silently Jimmy adjusted the headphones again and began to move the -dials. Five minutes passed. Then he stood back, grasped the handle and -pulled the door open.</p> - -<p>The interior was black, but a click of the torch revealed row upon -row of Thro-Pahl images. There were hundreds here, and there must be -hundreds more in the lower crypt.</p> - -<p>And then Jimmy remembered the metal tube Linda had given him when they -first entered this underground chamber. He drew forth the tube and with -a quick motion threw it before him.</p> - -<p>Nothing! The crypt remained steeped in silence.</p> - -<p>"What was that you threw?" demanded Garth. "Answer, damn you!"</p> - -<p>Jimmy shrugged. "It was a tube of setro-frenalot—NSK 54," he said. -"I think you know what that means, Mr. Garth. The double detonation -explosive. If it doesn't explode upon the first impact, the slightest -jar, the slightest whisper of sound will discharge it."</p> - -<p>Garth's face went black with rage. "You damned double-crossing—!"</p> - -<p>He tossed his heat gun to one of the two pseudo-I.P. men and plunged -into the vault. Halfway the significance of Jimmy's words came home to -him. Gingerly, a step at a time, he began to work his way toward the -metal tube that lay in the light of his electric torch.</p> - -<p>Now he stood directly above it. He reached down, let his fingers fasten -about the tube. With the greatest of care, he lifted it and began to -catwalk back to the door of the vault.</p> - -<p>But at the threshold Jimmy uttered a cry of alarm and swept Linda -protectingly into his arms.</p> - -<p>"What's the matter?" Garth demanded.</p> - -<p>"The calibo-marset fire. Blue flame. It's started in the -setro-frenalot. It's going to go off."</p> - -<p>Garth's eyes shot wide with fear. He looked down at the tube in his -hands, then abruptly swung and hurled it through the open doorway into -the vault.</p> - -<p>There was a low roar, mounting to a crescendo report. A cloud of smoke -belched outward, and the ground beneath their feet trembled. At the -first indication of Garth's action, Jimmy, Linda, and Hanley had hurled -themselves backward, away from the vault door. Garth too had whirled -and leaped like a released spring to safety.</p> - -<p>But the two I.P. men were caught. They had not heard Jimmy's -exclamation—hadn't time to guess what was coming. An avalanche of -rubble and huge stones washed forward to sweep relentlessly over -them. An instant later only a sound of dust-rising debris and masonry -fragments marked the spot where they had stood.</p> - -<p>As the deafening reverberations rolled back into silence, Hamilton -Garth seemed to grasp the significance of the situation like a man -in a dream. For a moment he stood there, rigid, eyes narrowing, lips -quivering. Then with a snarl of profanity, he charged straight at Jimmy -Starr.</p> - -<p>Jimmy's head was still reeling dizzily from a blow dealt him by a -flying chunk of rock, and he saw the onrushing Trust man through a -haze. Garth's fist bludgeoned into his jaw. Another blow drove into -his midsection, sent a wave of nausea sweeping through him. And then -a picture of his father lying helpless on the study floor shot into -his mind's eye; with it came a sudden realization of all that the -<i>superiors</i> class—Garth's class—stood for. He snapped his fists -forward and began to hit with all the strength he possessed at the face -before him. He was still flailing his arms in and out, when Hanley -stepped in and pulled him back.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was the following morning, and the tracto-car was speeding smoothly -down Canal Grand. In the driver's seat sat Jimmy Starr, a bandage on -his temple, a smile on his face.</p> - -<p>Beside him was Linda Hall, and in the rear tonneau Phil Hanley held a -heat gun to cover the bound figure of Hamilton Garth.</p> - -<p>"We did it," Jimmy said at length. "The figurine cache is destroyed -forever."</p> - -<p>The girl nodded.</p> - -<p>"And the canal project won't be abandoned either," Jimmy continued. -"That explosion opened up a shaft leading to a still lower crypt where -there's enough pure <i>pxar</i> ingots stored to build all the canal locks -the engineers need. Pure <i>pxar</i>. Not the figurine kind."</p> - -<p>Linda nodded again.</p> - -<p>"What I want to know is this," she said. "I know that that tube -you threw into the vault didn't go off the first time because the -detonator-cap didn't hit. But what kind of explosive is setro-frenalot? -I never heard of it.</p> - -<p>"Neither did I," Jimmy laughed. "It goes back to the juke box age of -the twentieth century. In other words, double talk."</p> - -<pre style='margin-top:6em'> -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ENTER THE NEBULA *** - -This file should be named 63715-h.htm or 63715-h.zip - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/6/3/7/1/63715/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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