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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..386dfd9 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68707 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68707) diff --git a/old/68707-0.txt b/old/68707-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1ba0e0a..0000000 --- a/old/68707-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1664 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Storm Cloud on Deka, by Edward E. -Smith - -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: Storm Cloud on Deka - -Author: Edward E. Smith - -Release Date: August 8, 2022 [eBook #68707] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORM CLOUD ON DEKA *** - - - - - - STORM CLOUD ON DEKA - - By Edward E. Smith, Ph.D. - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Astonishing Stories, June 1942. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - CHAPTER ONE - - From a Seed.... - - -Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, Inc., was civilization's oldest and most -conservative drug house. "Hide-bound" was the term most frequently -used, not only by its younger employees but also by its more -progressive competitors. But, corporatively, Tellurian Pharmaceuticals -did not care. Its board of directors, by an iron-clad, if unwritten -law, was limited to men of over three score years and ten. - -Against the inertia of that ruling body the impetuosity of the younger -generations was precisely as efficacious as the dashing of waves -against the foot of an adamantine cliff--and in very much the same -fashion. Ocean waves do, in time, cut into even the hardest rock; and, -every century or so, Tellurian Pharmaceutical, Inc., did take a forward -step. However, "Rather than make a mistake, do nothing" was its creed. -To that creed it adhered rigorously. - -Thus, it did not establish branches upon other planets until a century -or so of experiment had proved that no unforeseen factor would operate -to lessen the prodigiously high standard of its products. Nor would it -own or operate spaceships, as did other large firms. Its business was -the manufacture of the universe's finest, most carefully standardized -drugs and it would go into no sidelines whatever. - -Even the location of its head office; directly under the guns of Prime -Base, bore out the same theme. Originally it had been in the middle -of the city, miles away from the reservation; but as Prime Base had -expanded, the city had moved aside. Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, however, -would not give way. It stolidly refused to sell its holdings even to -the Galactic Patrol; it would not move until the patrol should condemn -its property and compel it by law to vacate. - -Into that massive gray building there strode a tall, lean, gray -man; into an old-fashioned elevator, operated by a seventy-year-old -"boy"; into a darkish, severe room whose rock-of-ages furniture had -become pricelessly antique. Without a word he handed a card to the -receptionist, a prim spinster of some fifty summers. - -"Ezekiel R. Stonely, M.D., Sc.D., Consultant in Radiation," she read -precisely into a communicator. "By appointment." - -"Let him come in, please." - -Dr. Stonely entered the private office of a vice-president--a young -man, as T. P.'s executives went--a man scarcely sixty years of age. - -"All ready," the consultant reported briefly. "Graves is here, you -said?" - -"Yes. He got in from Deka last night. How long will the demonstration -take?" - -"Seven hours to the point of maximum yield; twelve for the full life -cycle." - -"Very good." The vice-president then spoke into the communicator. -"Please ask Mr. Graves to step in." - -Graves, the manager of T. P.'s branch upon the planet -Deka--planetographically speaking, Dekanore III--was a short, fat man; -and he possessed, upon the surface at least, the fat man's proverbial -geniality and good nature. - -"Mr. Graves--Dr. Stonely." - -"Mighty glad to meet you, Doctor," Graves shook hands effusively. -"Splendid accomplishment. You've been working on it five years or more, -I hear." - -"Six years and two months," the scientist said precisely. - -"I cannot accompany you, of course," the vice-president interposed -busily, "and you appreciate that the less of communication or contact -hereafter, the better. Good day." - - * * * * * - -The two went out, took a cab, and soon were in Dr. Stonely's -ultra-private laboratory. It was a large room, artificially lighted, -lined throughout with sheet metal--metal which, when properly charged, -formed a barrier through which no harmful radiation or particle could -pass. The scientist snapped on the wall shield and set to work, -explaining each step to his visitor. - -"Here are the seeds. For the present you will have to take my word -for it that I produced them here. I will go through as many cycles as -you please. Here are the containers--miniatures, you will observe, of -the standard hydroponics tanks. The formula of the nutrient solution, -while of course crucial, contains nothing either rare or unduly -expensive. I plant the seed, thus, in each of the two tanks. I cover -each with a bell-jar of plastic--transparent to the frequencies to be -employed. I enclose the whole with a similar envelope--so. I align the -projectors--thus. We will now put on our armor, as the radiation is -severe and the atmosphere, which displaces our own of oxygen--" - -"Synthetic or imported?" Graves asked. - -"Imported. Synthesis is possible, but prohibitive in cost. Importation -in tank ships is easy, simple, and comparatively cheap. I will now -energize the projectors, and growth will begin." - -He did so, and in the glare of blue-green radiance the atmosphere -within the bell-jars, the very ether, warped and writhed. In spite of -the distortion of vision, however, growth could be perceived--growth at -an astonishing rate. - -In a few minutes the seeds had sprouted. In an hour the thick, broad, -glossily-green leaves were inches long. In seven hours each jar was -full of a lushly luxuriant tangle of foliage. - -"This is the point of maximum yield," Stonely remarked as he shut off -the projectors. "I assume that you will want to take a sample." - -"Certainly," the fat man agreed. "How else would I know it's the clear -quill?" - -"If you were a scientist, the sight of it would be sufficient," came -the dry rejoinder. "Knowing that you are not, however, I am running two -tanks, as you see. Take either one you like." - -The sample tank was removed and the full cycle of growth completed upon -the other. Graves himself harvested the seeds, and himself carried -them away. - -Six days, six generations, six samples, and even the eminently -skeptical Graves was convinced. - -"You've certainly got something there, Doc," he admitted finally. "We -can really go to town on that. You're absolutely sure that you're -covered--no trace?" - -"None whatever," Stonely assured him. "Doctor Stonely will retire and -will gradually drop from sight. I will abandon this disguise, resume my -true identity as Fairchild, which has been kept alive judiciously, and -move openly to Deka." - -"Notes? Data? Possible observers? This machinery and stuff?" Graves -insisted. - -"No notes or data have ever been written down. The knowledge exists -only in my own brain. You are the first person other than myself ever -to see the inside of this room. This apparatus will be unrecognizable -before it is boxed, and I shall do the packing myself. Why? Are you by -any chance apprehensive that I may slip up?" - -"Well, we can't be too sure." The fat man's blue eyes were now neither -genial nor good-natured; they were piercing and cold. "In this game -anybody who permits any leaks dies. And anyone who knows too much dies. -We don't want you to die, at least until after we get started on Deka--" - -"Nor then," the scientist interrupted cynically, "if you know when -you're well off. I'm the only man in the universe who can run the -apparatus. It would take a mighty good man three years to learn it -after I get it going. Remember that, my friend." - -"So what?" Graves' stare was coldly level. - -"Just so you won't develop any funny ideas. I know as well as you do, -however, about leaks and leakers. I don't leak. How long will it take -you to get ready--three months?" - -"Um--just about. And you?" - -"Any time." - -"Make it three months, then." - -"Three months it is--on Deka." The interview was ended. - - * * * * * - -Newspoke--originally New Spokane--was the largest city of Dekanore III. -It lay in the broad valley of the Spokane River, just above the mouth -of Clear Creek, which latter stream meandered along a fertile valley -between mountains lofty and steep. Clear Creek Valley--all of it--and -all its neighboring mountains belonged to Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, -Inc. - -The valley floor was a riot of color, devoted as it was to the -intensive cultivation of medicinal plants which could not as yet be -grown economically in tanks. Along both edges of the valley extended -rows of huge hydroponics sheds. Upon the mountains' sides there were -snake dens, lizard pens, and enclosures for many other species of fauna. - -Nor was the surface all that was in use. Those mountains were hollow, -honeycombed into a host of rooms in which, under precisely controlled -environments of temperature, atmosphere, and radiation, were grown and -studied hundreds of widely-variant forms of life. - -At the confluence of creek and river, just inside the city limits, -there reared and sprawled the company's buildings, the processing -and synthesizing plants, the refineries, the laboratories, the -power-houses, and so on. - -In a ground-floor office of the towering Administration Building two -men sat in silence and waited while a red light upon a peculiarly -complicated desk-board faded through pink into pure white. - -"All clear. This way, Doctor." Manager Graves pushed a button and a -section of blank wall slid smoothly aside. - -The fat man and Doctor Fairchild--unrecognizable now as the man who -had once been known as Doctor Stonely--went down two long flights of -narrow steps. Along a dimly-lit corridor they made their way, through -an elaborately locked steel door, then into a barely-furnished, -steel-lined room upon the floor of which four inert bodies lay. - -Graves thrust a key into an inconspicuous orifice and a plate -swung open, revealing a chute into which the four lax forms were -unceremoniously dumped. Then the two men retraced their steps to the -manager's office. - -"Well, that's about all that we can feed to the disintegrators." -Fairchild lit an Alsakanite cigarette and exhaled thoughtfully. - -"Why? Going soft on us?" Graves sneered. - -"No," the scientist replied calmly. "The ice is getting thin." - -"Whaddya mean 'thin'?" the manager demanded. "The Patrol inspectors are -ours--enough of them, anyway. Our records are fixed. Faked identities, -trips, all that stuff, you know. Everything's on the green." - -"That's what you think," Fairchild countered cynically. "Our accident -rate, in spite of everything we have been able to do, is up three -hundredths of one percent; industrial hazard rate and employee turnover -about three and a half; and the Narcotics Division alone knows how -much we have upped total bootleg sales. Those figures are all in the -Patrol's files. How can you give such facts the brush-off?" - -"We don't have to," Graves laughed comfortably. "Even a half of one -percent would not excite suspicion, and our distribution is so uniform -throughout the galaxy that they can't center it. They can't possibly -trace anything back to us. Besides, they wouldn't suspect us. With -our reputation, other firms would get knocked off in time to give -us plenty of warning. Lutzenschiffer's, for instance, is putting out -heroin by the ton." - -"Again I say that's what _you_ think." Fairchild remained entirely -unconvinced. "Nobody else is putting out the stuff that comes out of -Cave Two Seventeen--demand and price prove that. What you don't seem to -get, Graves, is that some of those damned Lensmen have brains. Suppose -they put Worsel of Velantia, Tregonsee of Rigel IV, or even Kinnison -himself onto this job--then what? The minute that anybody decides to -run a rigid statistical analysis of our records, we're done." - -"Um--" This was a distinctly disquieting thought, in view of the -impossibility of concealing anything from a Gray Lensman who was really -on the prowl. "That might not be so good. What would you advise, then?" - -"Shut down Two Seventeen--and preferably the whole hush-hush end--until -we can get our records absolutely honest and our death rates down to -the old-time ten-year average," the scientist insisted. "In that way -only can we make ourselves really safe." - -"Shut down? The way they're pushing us for production?" Graves sneered. -"You talk like a fool. The chief would toss us both down the chute and -put somebody in here that _would_ really produce." - -"Oh, I don't mean without permission. Talk him into it. It's best for -him, as well as everybody else, over the long pull." - -"He couldn't see it. I can't either, really," grunted the manager. "If -we can't dope out something better than that, things have got to go on -as is." - -"I suspected so--but you asked me. The next best thing is to use some -new form of death, openly explainable, to clean up our books." - -"Wonderful!" Graves snorted contemptuously. "What can we possibly add -to what we are using right along?" - -"A loose atomic vortex." - -"Whoooosh!" The fat man deflated in an exclamation of profound -surprise, then came back up for air, gasping. "Man, you're nuts. -There's only one on the planet, and it's--or do you mean--but nobody -ever touched one of those things off deliberately! Can it be done?" - -"Yes. It isn't simple, but we Fellows of the College of Radiation -know how--theoretically--the transformation can be made to occur. The -fact that it is a new idea makes it all the better. It has never been -done because it has been impossible to extinguish the things. But now -'Storm' Cloud is putting them out." - -"I see. Neat, very neat." Graves' agile and cunning brain was going -over the possibilities. "Certain of our employees, I take it, will be -upon a picnic in the upper end of the valley when this unfortunate -occurrence is to take place?" - -"Exactly--and enough mythical ones to straighten out our bookkeeping. -Then, later, we can dispose of suspects as they appear. Vortices are -absolutely unpredictable, you know. People we don't like can die of -radiation or of any one or a mixture of various toxic gases and vapors -and the vortex will take the blame." - -"And later, when it gets dangerous, Storm Cloud can blow it out for -us," Graves gloated. "But we'll not want him for a long, long time!" - -"No, but we'll report it and ask for him the hour it happens--" -Fairchild silenced the manager's expostulations. "Use your head, -Graves! Anybody who has a vortex go out of control wants it killed as -soon as possible. But here's the joker--Cloud has enough Class A prime -urgent demands on file right now to keep him busy for the next ten or -fifteen years. Therefore we won't be able to get him--see?" - -"I see. This is nice, Fairchild, very, very nice. But the head office -had better keep an eye on Cloud, just the same." - - - - - CHAPTER TWO - - Vortex Buster - - -Robert Ryder, Bachelor of Hydroponics from the University of Newspoke, -was also, maritally, a bachelor. For a year or so after graduation, -while he was making good with Tellurian Pharmaceutical, Inc., he had no -reason to be dissatisfied with that state of affairs. However, Mother -Nature went to work upon him in her wonted fashion, and, never averse -to feminine society, he began to go in for girls in a large and serious -way. - -In the hydroponics office there was an eminently personable and yet -level-headed young filing clerk named Jacqueline Comstock, who was all -unconsciously--or was it?--working much more toward her Mrs. degree -than for the good of the firm. - -It was inevitable, then, that these two should single each other out; -that each should come to behold in the other all that made life worth -while. They planned, breathtakingly happy. - -They saved their money, instead of indulging in expensive amusements; -they took long hikes. - -Thus they discovered many choice spots affording the maximum of -privacy, of comfort, and of view; thus they came to know almost as -individuals the birds and beasts and reptiles in the far-flung pens. - -They sat blissfully, arms around each other, upon a rustic seat -improvised from rocks, branches, and leaves. Below them, almost under -their feet, was a den of venomous serpents, but they did not see the -snakes. - -Before them, equally unperceived, there extended the magnificent vista -of stream and valley and mountain. - -All they saw, however, was each other--until their attention was -literally wrenched to a man who was climbing frantically toward them -with the aid of a stout cudgel which he used as a staff. The girl -gazed briefly, stared, and then, with a half-articulate moan, shrank -even closer against her lover's side. Ryder, even while his left arm -tightened around his Jackie's waist, felt with his right hand for a -club of his own and tensed his muscles in readiness for strife--for the -climbing man was all too apparently mad. - -His breathing was horrible. Mouth tight-clamped, in spite of his -terrific exertion, he was sniffing--sniffing loathsomely, lustfully, -each whistling inhalation filling his lungs to bursting. He exhaled -explosively, as though begrudging the second of time required to empty -himself of air. Wide-open eyes glaring fixedly ahead, he blundered -upward, paying no attention whatever to his path. He tore through -clumps of thorny growth; he stumbled and fell over logs and stones; he -caromed from boulders, as careless of the needles which tore clothing -and skin as of the rocks which bruised his flesh to the very bone. - -He struck the gate of the pen immediately beneath the two appalled -watchers, and then stopped. He moved to the right and paused, -whimpering in anxious agony. Back to the gate and over to the left he -went, where he stopped and sent forth a blood-curdling howl. Whatever -the frightful compulsion was, whatever it was that he sought, he could -not deviate enough from his line to go around the pen. He looked, -and for the first time saw the gate and the fence and the ophidian -inhabitants of the den. They did not matter--nothing mattered. He -fumbled with the lock, then furiously attacked it and the gate and -the fence with his club--fruitlessly. He tried to climb the fence, -but failed. He tore off sandals and socks and, by dint of thrusting -fingers and toes ruthlessly into the narrow meshes of the woven wire, -he succeeded in getting through. - -No more than he had minded the thorns and the rocks did he mind the -eight strands of viciously-barbed wire surmounting that fence. He -did, however, watch the snakes. He took pains to drop into an area -temporarily clear of them, and he pounded to death the half-dozen -serpents bold enough to bar his path. - -Then, dropping to the ground, he writhed and scuttled about, sniffing -ever harder, nose plowing the ground. He halted; he dug with his bare -hands at the hard soil. Thrusting his face into the hole, he inhaled -tremendously. His body writhed, trembled, shuddered uncontrollably, -then stiffened convulsively into a supremely ecstatic rigidity, -terrible to gaze upon. - -The horribly labored breathing ceased. The body collapsed bonelessly, -even before the outraged serpents crawled up and struck. - -Jacqueline Comstock saw very little of the outrageous performance. She -screamed once, shut both eyes and, twisting about within the embracing -arm, burrowed her face into the man's left shoulder. - -Ryder, however--white-faced, jaw set, sweating--watched the whole -ghastly thing to its grimly cataclysmic end. When it was over he licked -his lips and swallowed hard before he could talk. - -"It's all over, dear--no danger now," he finally managed to say. "We'd -better go. We ought to turn in an alarm--make a report or something. -They'll want us as witnesses." - -"Oh, I can't, Bob!" she sobbed. "If I open my eyes I just know I'll -look, and if I look I'll ... I'll just simply turn inside out." - -"Hold everything, Jackie! Keep your eyes shut. I'll pilot you and tell -you when it's safe to look." - - * * * * * - -More than half carrying his companion, still gripping unconsciously his -heavy club, the man set off down the rugged trail. Out of sight of what -had happened, the girl opened her eyes and they continued the descent -in a more usual, more decorous fashion until they met a man hurrying -upwards. - -"Oh, Doctor Fairchild! There was a--" But the report which Ryder was -about to make was unnecessary; the alarm had already been given. - -"I know!" the scientist puffed. "Stop! Stay right where you are." He -jabbed a finger emphatically downward to anchor the couple in the exact -spot they occupied. "Don't talk! Don't say a word--until I get back." - -Fairchild returned after a time, unhurried and completely at ease. -He did not need to ask the shaken couple if they had seen what had -occurred. It was plainly evident that they had. - -"But--but, Doctor--" Ryder began. - -"Keep still! Don't talk at all!" Fairchild ordered brusquely. Then, -in an ordinary conversational tone, he went on: "Until we have -investigated this extraordinary occurrence thoroughly--sifted it to -the bottom--the probability of spying cannot be disregarded. As the -only eye-witnesses to what actually happened, your reports will be -exceedingly valuable. But I do not want to hear a word until we are in -a place which I am sure beyond peradventure is proof against any and -all spy-rays. Do you understand?" - -"Oh yes, I understand." - -"Pull yourselves together, then. Act unconcerned, casual--particularly -when we get to the Administration Building. Talk about the weather, or, -better yet, about the honeymoon you are going to take on Chickladoria." - -Thus it was that there was nothing noticeably abnormal about the group -of three which strolled into the office building and entered a private -automatic elevator. The conveyance, however, went down instead of up. - -"I am taking you to my private laboratory, not to my office," Fairchild -replied to Ryder's unspoken question. "Frankly, young folks, I am a -scared--a badly scared man." - -This statement, so true and yet so misleading, resolved thoroughly -the young engineer's inchoate doubts. Entirely unsuspectingly the -couple accompanied the Senior Radiationist along the grim corridor. -They paused as he unlocked and swung open a door of thick metal; they -stepped unquestioningly into the room in response to his gestured -invitation. He did not, however, follow them. Instead, he swung shut -the heavy slab, whose closing cut off completely the filing clerk's -piercing scream of fear. - -"Cut out that noise!" came raspingly from a speaker in the steel -ceiling of the small room--a room which was very evidently not Doctor -Fairchild's private laboratory. "It won't do you any good. You're -sound-proofed. Talk all you please, but any more of that yelling and -I'll have to put you out of your misery." - -"But Mr. Graves, I thought--Dr. Fairchild told us--we were to report on -that--" Ryder's words came confusedly from the maze of his surprise. - -"You're to report on nothing. You saw too much and know too much, -that's all." - -"Oh, so _that's_ it." Ryder's mind reeled as some part of the actual -significance of what he had seen struck home. "But listen, Graves. -Jackie didn't see anything. She had her eyes shut all the time, and -doesn't know anything. You don't want the murder of such a girl as she -is on your mind, I know. Let her go and she'll never say a word. We'll -both swear to that. Or you could--" - -"Why? Just because she's got a face and a shape?" the fat man sneered. -"There are thousands of women as good-looking as she is, but I've got -only one life--" Graves broke off as Fairchild entered the office. - -"Well, how about it? How bad is it?" the manager asked. - -"Not bad at all. Everything's under control." - -"Listen, Doctor Fairchild!" Ryder put in, desperately, "surely you -don't have to murder Jackie here in cold blood. I was just suggesting -to Graves that he could get a therapist--" - -"Shut up," the scientist ordered coldly. "Our therapists are working on -things that are really important. You two must die." - -"But why?" Ryder protested wildly. He could not as yet perceive more -than a small fraction of the whole. "I tell you, it's--" - -"We'll let you guess," said Fairchild. - - * * * * * - -Shock upon shock had been too much for the girl's overstrained nerves. -She fainted quietly and Ryder eased her unconscious form down to the -cold steel floor. - -"Can't you put her into a better place than this?" the man protested -then. - -"You'll find water and food, and that's enough." Graves laughed -coarsely. "You won't live very long, so don't worry about conveniences. -But keep still. If you want to know what is going to happen to you, -listen--we have no objections to that--but one more word out of you and -I cut the circuit. Go ahead, Fairchild, with what you were saying." - -"There was a fault in the rock. Small, but big enough to let a little -of the fine smoke seep through. He must have been a sniffer before -to be able to smell the trace of the stuff that was drifting down the -hill. All fixed now, though. I'm having the fault, and any others that -may exist, cemented up solid. Death by snake bite will fix our records." - -"Fair enough. Now, how about these two? There has been some talk of a -honeymoon to Chickladoria, but that may have been a blind. Doubles? -Disappearance? The vortex? What do you think?" - -"Um--We've got to hold the risk at minimum." Fairchild pondered for -minutes. "We can't disintegrate them, that's sure. We're trying to -clear our books of too much of that stuff already. They've got to be -found dead, and the quota for the vortex for this period is full. -Therefore we'll have to keep them alive and out of sight--where they -are is as good a place as any--for a week." - -"Why alive? We've kept stiffs in storage before now." - -"Too chancey--dead tissues change too much. We weren't courting -investigation then, but now we are--on the vortex, at least--so we -have to keep our noses clean. How about this? They decided that they -couldn't wait any longer and got married today. You, big-hearted -philanthropist that you are, told them that they could take their two -weeks vacation immediately and that you would square it with their -department heads. They went on their honeymoon. Not to Chickladoria, -of course--too long and too risky--but to a place where nobody knows -them. We can fake the evidence on that easily enough. They come back in -about a week, to get settled, and the vortex gets them. See any flaws -in that set-up?" - -"No, that looks perfect," Graves decided after due deliberation. "One -week from tonight, at midnight, they go out. Hear that, Ryder?" - -"Yes, you pot-bellied--" - -The fat man snapped a switch. - -Doggedly and skillfully though he tried, Ryder could open up no -avenue of escape or of communication; Fairchild and Graves had seen -efficiently to that. And Jacqueline, in the inevitability of impending -death, steadied down to meet it. She was a woman. In minor crises she -had hidden her face and had shrieked and had fainted; but in this -ultimate one she drew from the depths of her woman's soul not only a -power to overcome her own weaknesses, but also an extra something with -which to sustain and to fortify Ryder in his black moments. - -They were together. That fact, and the far more important one that they -were to die together, robbed incarceration and death itself of sting. - - * * * * * - -At the Atomic Research Laboratory on Teelus a conference was taking -place between Unattached Lensmen Philip Strong, the head of that -laboratory, and Doctor Neal Cloud, ex-atomic-physicist, now "Storm" -Cloud, the Vortex Blaster. - -Cloud had become the Vortex Blaster because a fragment of a loose -atomic vortex had wiped out his entire family--not by coincidence, but -by sheer cosmic irony. For he, while protecting his home and his loved -ones from lightning by means of a mathematically infallible network of -lightning rods, had all unknowingly erected a super-powerful magnet -for loose-flying vortices of atomic disintegration. - -Nor were such vortices scarce. Every time an atomic powerplant went -out of control, a loose atomic vortex resulted, and there was, at that -time, no way of extinguishing them. It was theoretically possible to -blow them out with duodec, but the charge of explosive had to match -within very close limits the instantaneous value of the vortex's -activity. Since that value varied rapidly and almost unpredictably, -practically all such attempts resulted in the death of the operator and -the creation of a dozen or more new centers of annihilation. - -There was a possibility that Cloud, a mathematical prodigy able to -compute instantaneously any mathematical problem, would be able to -succeed where so many others had failed; but as long as he had Jo -and the three kids, as long as he had the normal love of life, that -possibility had never occurred to him. - -When he lost them, however, he no longer had the slightest interest in -living. Unwilling to kill himself, he decided to try to blow out the -oldest and worst vortex upon Tellus. Against the orders of his chief -and the pleadings of his friends he tried it. He succeeded. - -He had been burned; he had been broken, but he carried no scars. The -Phillips treatment for the replacement of lost or damaged members of -the human body had taken care of that. His face looked youthful; his -hard-schooled, resiliently responsive body was in startlingly fine -condition for that of a man of forty. - -The Phillips treatment could not, however, fill a dully aching -void within him. It could not eradicate from mind and soul the -absence of and the overpowering longing for his deceased wife and -children--particularly his wife, Jo the lovely, Jo the beloved, Jo his -all in all for eighteen fleeting and intensely happy years. - -He no longer wore that psychic trauma visibly; it no longer came -obtrusively between him and those with whom he worked, but it was and -always would be there. He had by this time blown out so many vortices -and had developed such an effective technique that he no longer had -any hope that any vortex could ever kill him--but there were other -forms of death. He still would not actually court it; but more and more -certainly, as the days dragged on, he came to know that not by one -single millimeter would he dodge anyone or anything bringing the dread -messenger his way. - -"Where do you want me to go next, Chief?" the Vortex Blaster asked. -"Spica or Rigel or Corvina? Those three are the worst, I'd say." - -"Uh-huh--Rigel's is probably a shade the worst in property damage and -urgency. Before we decide, though, I wish you'd take a good look at the -data on this one from Dekanore III. See if you see what I do." - -"Dekanore III?" Cloud glanced curiously at the older man. "Didn't know -they were having any trouble. Only got one, haven't they?" - -"Two now--they just had a new one. It's that new one I'm talking about. -It's acting funny--damned funny." - -Cloud went through the data in brow-furrowing concentration, then -charted some of it and frowned. - -"I get it. 'Damned funny' is right," he agreed. "The toxicity is too -steady, but at the same time the composition of the effluvium seems -to be too varied. Inconsistent, apparently--but since there's no real -attempt at a gamma analysis and very little actual mathematical data, -it could be; they're so utterly unpredictable. Inexperienced observers, -I take it, with chemical and medical bias?" - -"Very much so, from our angle." - -"Well, I'll say this much--I never saw a gamma chart that would fit -this stuff, and I can't even imagine what the sigma curve would look -like. Boss, I'd like to run a full test on that baby before it goes -orthodox." - -"My thought exactly. And we have a valid excuse for giving it priority, -too. It happens to be killing more people than all three of those bad -ones combined." - -"I can fix that toxicity, I think, with exciters; and I'll throw a -solid cordon around it, if I have to, to keep the fools from getting -themselves burned to death. However, I won't blow it out until I -find out why it's acting so--if it is. Clear the ether, Chief, I'm -practically there!" - - * * * * * - -It did not take long to load Cloud's apparatus-packed flitter into a -liner, Dekanore-bound. But that trip was not uneventful. Half-way there -an alarm rang out and the dread word "Pirates!" resounded throughout -the ship. - -Consternation reigned, for organized piracy had vanished with the -fall of the Council of Boskone. Treasure ships were either warships -themselves or were escorted by warships. But this vessel was no -treasure ship; she was only a passenger liner. - -She had had little enough warning--her alert Communications Officer -had sent out only a part of his first distress call when the -blanketing interference closed down. The pirate--a first-class -super-dreadnought--flashed up, and a heavy visual beam drove in. - -"Go inert," came the tense command. "We are coming aboard." - -"Are you crazy?" The liner's captain was surprised and disgusted, -rather than alarmed. "If not, you've got the wrong ship. Everything -we have aboard, including the ransom--if any--you can get for our -passengers, wouldn't pay your expenses." - -"You wouldn't know, of course, that you are carrying a package of -Lonabarian jewelry, would you?" The question was elaborately skeptical. - -"I know damned well that I'm not!" - -"We'll take the package you _haven't_ got, then!" The pirate snapped. -"Go inert and open up, or I'll inert you with a needle-beam and open -you up, compartment by compartment--like this." A narrow beam lashed -out and expired. "That was through one of your cargo holds, just to -show you that I mean business. The next one will be through your -control room." - -Resistance being out of the question, the liner went inert, and while -the intrinsic velocities of the two vessels were being matched, the -attacker issued further instructions. - -"All officers are to be in the control room, all passengers in the main -saloon. Everybody unarmed. Any person wearing arms or slow in obeying -orders will be blasted." - -Lines were rigged and space-suited men crossed the intervening void. - -One squad went to the control room. Its leader, seeing that the -Communications Officer was still trying to drive a call through -the blanket, beamed him down without a word, then fused the entire -communications panel. The captain and four or five other officers, -maddened by this cold-blooded butchery, went for their guns and were -butchered in turn. - -A larger group--helmets thrown back for unimpeded vision, hands bared -for instantaneous and accurate use of weapons--invaded the main saloon. -Most of them went on through to perform previously assigned tasks, -only a half dozen posting themselves to guard the passengers. One of -these guards, a hook-nosed individual wearing consciously an aura of -authority and dominance, spoke. - -"Just take it easy, folks, and nobody will get hurt. If any of you -have guns, don't go for them. That's a specialty that--" One of his -DeLameters flamed briefly. Cloud's right arm vanished almost to the -shoulder. The man behind him--what was left of him--dropped. - -"Take it easy, I said," he went calmly on. "You can tie that arm up, -fella, if you want to. It was in line with that guy who was trying -in his slow way to pull a gun. You nurse over there, take him to the -sick-bay and let them fix up his wing. If anybody stops you tell them -Number One said to. Now the rest of you watch your step. I'll cut down -every damn one of you that so much as looks like he wanted to start -something." - -They obeyed. They were very near the point of panic, but in view of -what had happened no one dared to make the first move. The leniency -displayed toward the wounded man also had a soothing effect. - -In a few minutes the looting parties returned to the saloon. - -"Did you get it, Six?" - -"We got it. It was in the mail, like you said." - -"The safe?" - -"Sure. Wasn't much in it, but not bad, at that." - -"QX. Control room! All done--let's go!" - -The pirates backed away, their vessel disappeared, and its passengers -rushed for their staterooms. - -Then: "Doctor Cloud--Chief Pilot calling Doctor Cloud," the speaker -announced. - -"Cloud speaking." - -"Report to the control room, please." - -"Oh, excuse me--I didn't know that you were wounded," the officer -apologized as he saw the Blaster's bandaged stump. "You had better go -to bed." - -"Doing nothing would only make it worse. Can I be of any help?" - -"Do you know anything about communicators?" - -"A little." - -"Good. All our communications officers were killed and the sets--even -those in the lifeboats--blasted. You can't do much with your left -hand, of course, but you may be able to boss the job of rigging up a -spare." - -"I can do more than you think," Cloud grinned wryly. "It so happens -that I'm left-handed. Give me a couple of technicians and we'll see -what we can do." - -They set to work, but before they had accomplished anything a cruiser -drove up, flashing its identification as a warship of the Galactic -Patrol. - -"We picked up the partial call you got off," the young commander said -briskly. "With that and the center of interference we didn't lose any -time. Let's make this snappy." He was itching to be off after the -marauder, but he could not leave until he had ascertained the facts -and had been given a clearance signal by the merchantman's commanding -officer. "You aren't hurt much. Don't need to call a repair-ship for -you, do I?" - -"No." - -"QX." A quick investigation ensued. - -"Anybody who ships stuff like that open mail ought to lose it, but it's -tough on innocent bystanders. Anything else I can do for you?" the -rescuer asked. - -"Not unless you can lend us a communications officer or two." - -"Sorry, but we're short-handed there ourselves. Can give you anybody -else you need though, I think." - -"Nothing else, thanks." - -"Sign this clearance then, please, and I'll get on that fellow's tail. -I'll send a copy of the report to your owners' head office. Clear -ether!" - -The visitor shot away and the liner, after repairs had been made, -resumed its course toward Dekanore, with Cloud and a couple of -electrical technicians as communications officers. - - * * * * * - -The Vortex Blaster was met effusively at the dock by Manager Graves -himself. The fat man was overwhelmingly sorry that Cloud had lost his -arm, but assured him that the accident wouldn't lay him up very long. -He, Graves, would get a Posenian surgeon over here so fast that-- - -If the manager was taken aback to learn that Cloud had had a Phillips -treatment already, he scarcely showed it. He escorted the specialist -to Deka's best hotel, where he introduced him largely and volubly. -Graves took him to supper. Graves took him to a theater and showed him -the town. Graves told the hotel management to give the specialist the -best rooms and the best valet they had and that all of his activities -whatever their nature, purpose, or extent, were to be charged to -Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, Inc. Graves was a grand guy. - - * * * * * - -Cloud broke loose finally, however, and went to the dock to see about -storing his flitter. - -It had not been unloaded. There would be a slight delay, he was -informed, because of the insurance inspections necessitated by the -damage--and Cloud had not known that there had been any damage! When he -had found out just what that beam had done to his little ship he swore -viciously and sought out the liner's Chief Pilot. - -"Why didn't you tell me that that damned pirate holed us?" he demanded -hotly. - -"Why didn't you ask?" the officer replied, honestly surprised. "I don't -suppose that it occurred to anybody--I know it didn't to me--that you -might be interested." - -And that was, Cloud knew, strictly true. Passengers were not informed -of such occurrences. He had been enough of an officer so that he could -have learned everything if he had so wished, but not enough of one to -have been informed of such matters as routine. Nor was it surprising -that it had not come up in conversation. Damage to cargo meant -nothing whatever to those in the liner's control room; a couple of -easily-patched holes in the hull were not worth mentioning. From their -standpoint the only real damage was done to the communicators, and -Cloud himself had set them to rights. No, this delay was his own fault -as much as anybody else's. - -"You won't lose anything, though," the pilot said helpfully. "It's all -covered by insurance, you know." - -"It's not the money I'm yapping about--it's time. Those instruments -and generators can't be duplicated anywhere except on Tellus, and even -there it's all special-order stuff--oh, damn!" - - - - - CHAPTER THREE - - "Clear Ether!" - - -During the following days Tellurian Pharmaceuticals entertained Cloud. -Not insistently--Graves was an expert in such matters--but simply by -letting him know that the planet was his. He could do anything he -pleased; he could have any number of companions to help him do it. And -as a result he did--within limits--exactly what Graves wanted him to -do. In spite of the fact that he did not want to enjoy life, he liked -it. - -One evening, however, he refused to play a slot machine, explaining to -his laughing companion that the laws of chance were pretty thoroughly -shackled in such mechanisms--and the idle remark backfired. What was -the mathematical probability that all the things that had happened to -him could have happened by pure chance? - -That night he analyzed his data and found that the probability was -an infinitesimal. And there were too many other incidents--all -contributory. Six of them--seven if he counted his arm. If it had been -his left arm--jet back! Since he wrote with his right hand, very few -people knew that he was left-handed, and anyway, it didn't make any -difference. Everybody knew that it took both hands and both feet to -do what he did. Seven it was; and that made it virtually certain that -accident was out. - -But, if he was being delayed and hampered deliberately, who was doing -it, and why? It didn't make any kind of sense. Nevertheless, the idea -would not down. - -He was a trained observer and an analyst second to none. Therefore he -soon found out that he was being shadowed, but he could not get any -truly significant leads. - -"Graves, have you got a spy-ray detector?" he asked boldly--and -watchfully. - -The fat man did not turn a hair. "No, nobody would want to spy on me. -Why?" - -"I feel jumpy, as though somebody were walking on my grave. I don't -know why anybody would be spying on me, but--I'm neither a Lensman nor -an esper, but I'd swear that somebody's peeking over my shoulder half -the time. I think I'll go over to the Patrol station and borrow one." - -"Nerves, my boy, nerves and shock," Graves diagnosed. "Losing an arm -would shock hell out of anybody's nervous system, I'd say. Maybe the -Phillips treatment--the new one growing on--pulls you out of shape." - -"Could be," Cloud assented moodily. His act had been a flop. If Graves -knew anything--and he'd be damned if he could see any grounds for such -a suspicion--he hadn't given away a thing. - -Nevertheless, the Blaster went next to the Patrol office, which was -of course completely and permanently shielded. There he borrowed the -detector and asked the lieutenant in charge to get a special report -from the Patrol upon the alleged gems and what, if anything, it knew -about either the cruiser or the pirates. To justify the request he had -to explain his suspicions. - -After the messages had been sent the young officer drummed thoughtfully -upon his desk. "Wish I could do something, Doctor Cloud, but I can't -see how I can," he decided finally. "I'll notify Narcotics right away, -of course, but without a shred of evidence I can't act, even if they -are as big a zwilnik outfit as Wembleson's was, on Bronseca...." - -"I know. I'm not accusing them. It may be anything from Vandemar to -Andromeda. All firms--all individuals, for that matter--have spy-ray -blocks. Call me, will you, when you get that report?" - -The call came eventually and the Patrolman was round-eyed as he -imparted the information that, as far as anyone could discover, there -had been no Lonabarian gems and the rescuing cruiser had not been a -Patrol vessel at all. Cloud was not surprised. - -"I thought so," he said, flatly. "This is a hell of a thing to say, but -it now becomes a virtual certainty--mathematically, the probability -approaches absolute certainty as a limit--that this whole fantastic -procedure was designed solely to keep me from analyzing and blowing out -that vortex. Here's what I'm going to do." Bending over the desk, even -in that ultra-shielded office, he whispered busily for minutes. - -"But listen, Doctor!" the Patrolman protested. "Wait--let a Lensman do -it. Do you realize that if they're clean and if they catch you at it, -nothing in the universe can keep you from doing at least ninety days in -the clink?" - -"Yes. But if we wait, the chances are that it'll be too late. They will -have had time to cover up whatever they're doing. What I am asking you -is--will you back my play if I catch them with the goods?" - -"Yes. We'll be here, armored and ready. But I still think you're -completely nuts." - -"Maybe so, but if my mathematics is wrong, it is still a fact that my -arm will grow back on just as fast in clink as anywhere else. Clear -ether, Lieutenant--until tonight." - -Cloud made an engagement for luncheon with Graves. Arriving a few -minutes early, he was of course shown into the private office. Seeing -that the manager was busily signing papers, he strolled aimlessly to -the side window and seemed to gaze appreciatively at the masses of -gorgeously-blooming flowers just outside. What he really saw, however, -was his detector. Since he was wearing it openly upon his wrist, he -knew that he was not under observation. Nobody knew that he had in his -sleeve a couple of small but highly efficient implements. Nobody knew -that he was left-handed. Nobody knew that he had surveyed, inch by -inch, the burglar-alarm wiring of this particular window, nor that he -was an expert in such matters. Therefore no one saw what he did, nor -was any signal given that he did anything at all. - -That same night, however, that window opened alarmlessly to his deft -touch. That side was dark, but enough light came through the front -windows so that he could see what he was doing. Bad or good? He did not -know. Those walls might very well have eyes, but he had to take that -chance. One thing was in his favor: no matter how crooked they were -they couldn't keep armored troops on duty as night-watchmen. That would -be begging for trouble. And, in a pinch, he could get the Patrolmen -there as fast as they could get their thugs. - -He had not brought any weapons. If he was wrong, he would have no need -of one and it would only aggravate his offense. If right, one wouldn't -be enough and there would be plenty available. There they were, a -drawerful of them. DeLameters--full charged and ready--complete with -belts. He was right. - -He leaped to Graves' desk. A spy-ray. That basement--"private -laboratories"--was still blocked. He threw switch after switch--no -soap. Communicators--He was getting somewhere now--a steel-lined room, -a girl and a boy. - -"Eureka! Good evening, folks." - - * * * * * - -It had not taken long for Ryder to arrive at the explanations of the -predicament in which he and the girl were so hopelessly enmeshed. - -"Thionite!" he explained to her, bitterly. "I never saw a man take -thionite before, let alone die of it, but it's the only thing I can -think of that can turn a man into such an utter maniac as that one was. -They're _growing_ the stuff. They must be a zwilnik outfit from top to -bottom. That's why they've got to rub us out." - -"But how could it get out?" - -"Through a fault, Fairchild said, a crack in the rocks. A millionth -of a gram is enough, you know, and the stuff's so fine that it's -terrifically hard to hold. If we could only tell the Patrol!" - -But they could not tell, nor could they escape. They exerted their -every resource, exhausted every possibility--in vain. And as day -followed day Ryder almost went mad under the grinding thought that they -both must die without any opportunity of revealing their all-important -knowledge. Hence he burst out violently when the death-cell's speaker -gave tongue. - -"Eureka? Damn your gloating soul to hell, Graves!" he yelled furiously. - -"This isn't Graves!" the speaker snapped. "Cloud. Storm Cloud, the -Vortex Blaster, investigating--" - -"Oh, Bob, it is! I recognize his voice!" the girl screamed. - -"Quiet! This is a zwilnik outfit, isn't it?" - -"I'll say it is," Ryder gasped in relief. "Thionite--" - -"That's enough, details later. Keep still a minute!" Locked together in -almost overpowering relief, the imprisoned pair listened as the crisp -voice went on: - -"Lieutenant? I was right--zwilnik. _Thionite!_ Get over here fast. -Blast down the Mayner Street door--stairway on right, two flights down, -corridor to left, half-way along left side, Room B twelve. Snap it up!" - -"But wait, Cloud, wait!" they heard a fainter voice protest. "Wait -until we get there. You can't do anything alone!" - -"Can't wait. Got to get these kids out--evidence!" Cloud broke the -circuit and, as rapidly as his one hand permitted, buckled gun-belts -around himself. He knew that Graves would have to kill those two -youngsters if he possibly could. If they were silenced, it was -eminently possible that all other evidence could be destroyed in time. - -"For God's sake save Jackie anyway!" Ryder prayed. He knew just how -high those stakes were. "And watch out for gas, radiations, and -traps--a dozen alarms must have been sprung before now all around here." - -"What kind of traps?" Cloud demanded. - -"Deadfalls, sliding doors--I don't know what they haven't got in this -damned place." - -"Take Fairchild's private elevator, Doctor!" the girl's clear voice -broke in. "Graves said that he could kill us in here with gas or rays -or--" - -"Where is it?" - -"The one farthest from the stairs." - -Cloud jumped up, listening with half an ear to the babblings from below -as he searched for air-helmets. Radiations, in that metal-lined room, -were out--except possibly for a few narrow-beam projectors, which he -could deal with easily enough. Gas, however, was bad. They couldn't -weld cover-plates everywhere, even if they had time and metal. Every -drug house had air-helmets, though, and this one must have hundreds of -them. Ah! here they were! - - * * * * * - -He put one on, and made awkward shift to drape two more around his -neck. He had to keep his one hand free. To the indicated elevator -he dashed. Down two floors. He ran along the corridor and drove the -narrowest, hottest possible cutting beam of his DeLameter into the lock -of Room B Twelve. It took time to cut even that small semi-circle in -that refractory and conductive alloy--altogether too much time--but the -kids would know who it was. The zwilniks would unlock the cell with a -key, not a torch. - -They knew. When Cloud kicked the door open they fell upon him eagerly. - -"A helmet and a DeLameter apiece. Get them on quick. Now help me buckle -this--thanks. Miss Jackie, stay back there, clear of our feet. You, -man, lie down here in the doorway. Keep your ray-gun outside, and stick -your head out just barely far enough to see--no farther." - -A spot of light appeared in a port, then another. Cloud's weapon flamed -briefly. "I thought so. They do their serious radiation work somewhere -else. The air right now, though, I imagine, is bad. It won't be long -now. Do I hear something?" - -"Somebody's coming, but suppose it's the Patrol?" - -"They'll be in armor, so a few blasts won't hurt 'em. Maybe the -zwilniks will be in armor, too--if so we'll have to duck--but I imagine -that they'll throw the first ones in here just as they are." - -They did. Graves, or whoever was directing things, rushed his nearest -guards into action, hoping to reach B Twelve before anyone else could. - -But as that first detachment rounded the corner Cloud's DeLameter -flamed white, followed quickly by Ryder's, and in those withering -blasts of energy the zwilniks died. The respite was, however, short. -The next men to arrive wore armor against which the DeLameters raved in -vain, but only for a second. - -"Back!" Cloud ordered, and swung the heavy door as the attackers' beams -swept past. It could not be locked, but it could be welded solidly to -the jamb, which operation was done with dispatch, if not with neatness. - -"I hope they come in time." The girl's low voice carried a prayer. Was -this brief flare of hope false--would not only she and her Bob, but -also their would-be savior die? "That other noise--suppose that's the -Patrol?" - -It was not really a noise--the cell was sound-proof--it was an -occasional jarring vibration of the entire structure. - -"I wouldn't wonder." Cloud looked around the room as he spoke. "Heavy -stuff--semi-portables, perhaps. Well, let's see if we can't find some -more junk like that trap-door to stick onto that patchwork. Jackie, you -might grab that bucket and throw water. Every little bit helps and it's -getting mighty hot. Careful! Don't scald yourself." - -The heavy metal of the door was bright-to-dull red over half its area -and that area was spreading rapidly. The air of the room grew hot and -hotter. Bursts of live steam billowed out and, condensing, fogged the -helmets and made the atmosphere even more oppressive. - -The glowing metal dulled, brightened, dulled. The prisoners could -only guess at the intensity of the battle being waged without. They -could follow its progress only by the ever-shifting temperature of the -barrier which the zwilniks were so suicidally determined to beam down. -Then a blast of bitterly cold air roared from the ventilator, clearing -away the gas in seconds, and the speaker came to life. - -"Good work, Cloud and you other two," it said chattily. "Glad to see -that you're all on deck. The boys have been working on what's left of -the air-conditioner, so now we can cool you off a little and I can see -what goes on there. Get into this corner over here, so that they can't -blast you if they hole through." - -The barrier grew hotter, flamed fiercely white. A narrow pencil of -energy came sizzlingly through--but only for seconds. It expired. -Through the hole there poured the reflection of a beam so brilliant -as to pale the noonday sun. The portal cooled; heavy streams of water -hissed and steamed. Warm water--almost hot--spurted into and began to -fill the room. A cutting torch, water-cooled and carefully operated -now, sliced away the upper two-thirds of the fused and battered door. -The grotesquely-armored lieutenant peered in. - -"Anybody hurt, Cloud?" he shouted. Upon being assured that no one was, -he went on: "Good. We'll have to carry you out. Step up here where we -can get hold of you." - -"I'll walk and I'll carry Jackie myself," Ryder protested, while two of -the armored warriors were draping Cloud tastefully around the helmet of -a third. - -"You'll get boiled to the hips if you try it. The water's deep and hot. -Come on!" - -The slowly rising water was steaming sullenly; the walls and the -ceiling of the corridor gave mute but eloquent testimony of the -appalling forces which had been unleashed. Wood, plastic, concrete, -metal--nothing was as it had been. Cavities yawned; plates and -pilasters were warped, crumbled, fused into hellish stalactites; mighty -girders hung awry. In places complete collapse had necessitated the -blasting out of detours. - -Through the wreckage of what had been a magnificent building the -cavalcade made its way, but when the open air was reached the three -rescued ones were not left to their own desires. Instead, they were -escorted by a full platoon of Patrolmen to an armored car, which was in -turn escorted to the Patrol Station. - -"I'm afraid to take chances with you until we find out who is who and -what is what around here," the young commander explained. "The Lensmen -will be here, with reinforcements, in the morning, but I think you had -better stay here with us for a while, don't you?" - -"Protective custody, eh?" Cloud grinned. "I don't remember ever having -been arrested in such a nice way before, but it's QX with me. Thanks, -Lieutenant, for everything." - - * * * * * - -Lensmen came, and companies of Patrolmen equipped in many and various -fashions, but it was several weeks before the situation was entirely -under control. Then Ellington--Councillor Ellington, the old Unattached -Lensmen who was in charge of all Narcotics work--called the three -detainees into the office which had been set aside for his use. - -"We can release you now," the Lensman smiled. "Thanks, from me as well -as from the Patrol, for everything you have done. There has been some -talk that you two youngsters have been contemplating a honeymoon upon -Chickladoria or thereabouts?" - -"Oh, no, sir--that is--That was just talk, sir." Both spoke at once. - -"I realize that the report may have been exaggerated or premature, or -both, but it strikes me as being a sound idea. Therefore, not as a -reward, but in appreciation, the Patrol will be very glad to have you -as its guests throughout such a trip--all expense--if you like." - -They liked. - -"Very well. Lieutenant, take Miss Cochran and Mr. Ryder to the -Disbursing Office, please.... Dr. Cloud, the Patrol will take -cognizance of what you have done. In the meantime, however, I would -like to say that in uncovering this attempt to grow Trenconian -broad-leaf here, you have been of immense, of immeasurable assistance -to us." - -"Nothing much, sir, I'm afraid. I shudder to think of what's coming. If -the zwilniks can grow that stuff anywhere--" - -"Not at all, not at all," Ellington interrupted briskly. "No worse -than ever, if as bad. For if such an entirely unsuspected firm as -Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, with all their elaborate preparations and -precautions--some of the inspectors must have been corrupted too, -although we aren't to the bottom of that phase yet--could not get more -than started, it is not probable that any other attempt will prove -markedly successful. And in the case of the other habit-forming drugs, -which Tellurian Pharmaceuticals and undoubtedly many other supposedly -reputable firms have been distributing in quantity, you have given us a -very potent weapon." - -"What weapon?" Cloud was frankly puzzled. - -"Statistical analysis and correlation of apparently unrelated -indices--as you pointed out." - -"But they have been used for years!" the Blaster protested. - -"Admitted--but only when individual departures from the norm became so -marked as to call for a special investigation. We now have a corps of -analysts applying them as routine. Thus, while we cannot count upon -having any more such extraordinary help as you have given us, we should -not need it. I don't suppose that I can give you a lift back to Tellus?" - -"I don't think so, thanks. My new flitter is en route here now. I'll -have to analyze this vortex anyway. Not that I think it's abnormal -in any way--those were undoubtedly murders, not vortex casualties -at all--but just to complete the record. And since I can't do any -extinguishing until I grow a new flipper, I might as well stay here and -keep on practising." - -"Practising? Practising what?" - -"Gun-slinging--the lightning draw. I intend to get at least a lunch -while the next pirate who pulls a DeLameter on me is getting a square -meal." - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORM CLOUD ON DEKA *** - -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 an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. 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Smith, Ph.D. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -.ph1 { font-size: large; margin: .67em auto; } - -.ph2 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -.ph2 { font-size: medium; margin: .67em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Storm Cloud on Deka, by Edward E. Smith</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. 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. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Storm Cloud on Deka</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Edward E. Smith</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 8, 2022 [eBook #68707]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORM CLOUD ON DEKA ***</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>STORM CLOUD ON DEKA</h1> - -<h2>By Edward E. Smith, Ph.D.</h2> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Astonishing Stories, June 1942.<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 class="ph1">CHAPTER ONE</p> - -<p class="ph2">From a Seed....</p> - - -<p>Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, Inc., was civilization's oldest and most -conservative drug house. "Hide-bound" was the term most frequently -used, not only by its younger employees but also by its more -progressive competitors. But, corporatively, Tellurian Pharmaceuticals -did not care. Its board of directors, by an iron-clad, if unwritten -law, was limited to men of over three score years and ten.</p> - -<p>Against the inertia of that ruling body the impetuosity of the younger -generations was precisely as efficacious as the dashing of waves -against the foot of an adamantine cliff—and in very much the same -fashion. Ocean waves do, in time, cut into even the hardest rock; and, -every century or so, Tellurian Pharmaceutical, Inc., did take a forward -step. However, "Rather than make a mistake, do nothing" was its creed. -To that creed it adhered rigorously.</p> - -<p>Thus, it did not establish branches upon other planets until a century -or so of experiment had proved that no unforeseen factor would operate -to lessen the prodigiously high standard of its products. Nor would it -own or operate spaceships, as did other large firms. Its business was -the manufacture of the universe's finest, most carefully standardized -drugs and it would go into no sidelines whatever.</p> - -<p>Even the location of its head office; directly under the guns of Prime -Base, bore out the same theme. Originally it had been in the middle -of the city, miles away from the reservation; but as Prime Base had -expanded, the city had moved aside. Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, however, -would not give way. It stolidly refused to sell its holdings even to -the Galactic Patrol; it would not move until the patrol should condemn -its property and compel it by law to vacate.</p> - -<p>Into that massive gray building there strode a tall, lean, gray -man; into an old-fashioned elevator, operated by a seventy-year-old -"boy"; into a darkish, severe room whose rock-of-ages furniture had -become pricelessly antique. Without a word he handed a card to the -receptionist, a prim spinster of some fifty summers.</p> - -<p>"Ezekiel R. Stonely, M.D., Sc.D., Consultant in Radiation," she read -precisely into a communicator. "By appointment."</p> - -<p>"Let him come in, please."</p> - -<p>Dr. Stonely entered the private office of a vice-president—a young -man, as T. P.'s executives went—a man scarcely sixty years of age.</p> - -<p>"All ready," the consultant reported briefly. "Graves is here, you -said?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. He got in from Deka last night. How long will the demonstration -take?"</p> - -<p>"Seven hours to the point of maximum yield; twelve for the full life -cycle."</p> - -<p>"Very good." The vice-president then spoke into the communicator. -"Please ask Mr. Graves to step in."</p> - -<p>Graves, the manager of T. P.'s branch upon the planet -Deka—planetographically speaking, Dekanore III—was a short, fat man; -and he possessed, upon the surface at least, the fat man's proverbial -geniality and good nature.</p> - -<p>"Mr. Graves—Dr. Stonely."</p> - -<p>"Mighty glad to meet you, Doctor," Graves shook hands effusively. -"Splendid accomplishment. You've been working on it five years or more, -I hear."</p> - -<p>"Six years and two months," the scientist said precisely.</p> - -<p>"I cannot accompany you, of course," the vice-president interposed -busily, "and you appreciate that the less of communication or contact -hereafter, the better. Good day."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The two went out, took a cab, and soon were in Dr. Stonely's -ultra-private laboratory. It was a large room, artificially lighted, -lined throughout with sheet metal—metal which, when properly charged, -formed a barrier through which no harmful radiation or particle could -pass. The scientist snapped on the wall shield and set to work, -explaining each step to his visitor.</p> - -<p>"Here are the seeds. For the present you will have to take my word -for it that I produced them here. I will go through as many cycles as -you please. Here are the containers—miniatures, you will observe, of -the standard hydroponics tanks. The formula of the nutrient solution, -while of course crucial, contains nothing either rare or unduly -expensive. I plant the seed, thus, in each of the two tanks. I cover -each with a bell-jar of plastic—transparent to the frequencies to be -employed. I enclose the whole with a similar envelope—so. I align the -projectors—thus. We will now put on our armor, as the radiation is -severe and the atmosphere, which displaces our own of oxygen—"</p> - -<p>"Synthetic or imported?" Graves asked.</p> - -<p>"Imported. Synthesis is possible, but prohibitive in cost. Importation -in tank ships is easy, simple, and comparatively cheap. I will now -energize the projectors, and growth will begin."</p> - -<p>He did so, and in the glare of blue-green radiance the atmosphere -within the bell-jars, the very ether, warped and writhed. In spite of -the distortion of vision, however, growth could be perceived—growth at -an astonishing rate.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes the seeds had sprouted. In an hour the thick, broad, -glossily-green leaves were inches long. In seven hours each jar was -full of a lushly luxuriant tangle of foliage.</p> - -<p>"This is the point of maximum yield," Stonely remarked as he shut off -the projectors. "I assume that you will want to take a sample."</p> - -<p>"Certainly," the fat man agreed. "How else would I know it's the clear -quill?"</p> - -<p>"If you were a scientist, the sight of it would be sufficient," came -the dry rejoinder. "Knowing that you are not, however, I am running two -tanks, as you see. Take either one you like."</p> - -<p>The sample tank was removed and the full cycle of growth completed upon -the other. Graves himself harvested the seeds, and himself carried -them away.</p> - -<p>Six days, six generations, six samples, and even the eminently -skeptical Graves was convinced.</p> - -<p>"You've certainly got something there, Doc," he admitted finally. "We -can really go to town on that. You're absolutely sure that you're -covered—no trace?"</p> - -<p>"None whatever," Stonely assured him. "Doctor Stonely will retire and -will gradually drop from sight. I will abandon this disguise, resume my -true identity as Fairchild, which has been kept alive judiciously, and -move openly to Deka."</p> - -<p>"Notes? Data? Possible observers? This machinery and stuff?" Graves -insisted.</p> - -<p>"No notes or data have ever been written down. The knowledge exists -only in my own brain. You are the first person other than myself ever -to see the inside of this room. This apparatus will be unrecognizable -before it is boxed, and I shall do the packing myself. Why? Are you by -any chance apprehensive that I may slip up?"</p> - -<p>"Well, we can't be too sure." The fat man's blue eyes were now neither -genial nor good-natured; they were piercing and cold. "In this game -anybody who permits any leaks dies. And anyone who knows too much dies. -We don't want you to die, at least until after we get started on Deka—"</p> - -<p>"Nor then," the scientist interrupted cynically, "if you know when -you're well off. I'm the only man in the universe who can run the -apparatus. It would take a mighty good man three years to learn it -after I get it going. Remember that, my friend."</p> - -<p>"So what?" Graves' stare was coldly level.</p> - -<p>"Just so you won't develop any funny ideas. I know as well as you do, -however, about leaks and leakers. I don't leak. How long will it take -you to get ready—three months?"</p> - -<p>"Um—just about. And you?"</p> - -<p>"Any time."</p> - -<p>"Make it three months, then."</p> - -<p>"Three months it is—on Deka." The interview was ended.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Newspoke—originally New Spokane—was the largest city of Dekanore III. -It lay in the broad valley of the Spokane River, just above the mouth -of Clear Creek, which latter stream meandered along a fertile valley -between mountains lofty and steep. Clear Creek Valley—all of it—and -all its neighboring mountains belonged to Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, -Inc.</p> - -<p>The valley floor was a riot of color, devoted as it was to the -intensive cultivation of medicinal plants which could not as yet be -grown economically in tanks. Along both edges of the valley extended -rows of huge hydroponics sheds. Upon the mountains' sides there were -snake dens, lizard pens, and enclosures for many other species of fauna.</p> - -<p>Nor was the surface all that was in use. Those mountains were hollow, -honeycombed into a host of rooms in which, under precisely controlled -environments of temperature, atmosphere, and radiation, were grown and -studied hundreds of widely-variant forms of life.</p> - -<p>At the confluence of creek and river, just inside the city limits, -there reared and sprawled the company's buildings, the processing -and synthesizing plants, the refineries, the laboratories, the -power-houses, and so on.</p> - -<p>In a ground-floor office of the towering Administration Building two -men sat in silence and waited while a red light upon a peculiarly -complicated desk-board faded through pink into pure white.</p> - -<p>"All clear. This way, Doctor." Manager Graves pushed a button and a -section of blank wall slid smoothly aside.</p> - -<p>The fat man and Doctor Fairchild—unrecognizable now as the man who -had once been known as Doctor Stonely—went down two long flights of -narrow steps. Along a dimly-lit corridor they made their way, through -an elaborately locked steel door, then into a barely-furnished, -steel-lined room upon the floor of which four inert bodies lay.</p> - -<p>Graves thrust a key into an inconspicuous orifice and a plate -swung open, revealing a chute into which the four lax forms were -unceremoniously dumped. Then the two men retraced their steps to the -manager's office.</p> - -<p>"Well, that's about all that we can feed to the disintegrators." -Fairchild lit an Alsakanite cigarette and exhaled thoughtfully.</p> - -<p>"Why? Going soft on us?" Graves sneered.</p> - -<p>"No," the scientist replied calmly. "The ice is getting thin."</p> - -<p>"Whaddya mean 'thin'?" the manager demanded. "The Patrol inspectors are -ours—enough of them, anyway. Our records are fixed. Faked identities, -trips, all that stuff, you know. Everything's on the green."</p> - -<p>"That's what you think," Fairchild countered cynically. "Our accident -rate, in spite of everything we have been able to do, is up three -hundredths of one percent; industrial hazard rate and employee turnover -about three and a half; and the Narcotics Division alone knows how -much we have upped total bootleg sales. Those figures are all in the -Patrol's files. How can you give such facts the brush-off?"</p> - -<p>"We don't have to," Graves laughed comfortably. "Even a half of one -percent would not excite suspicion, and our distribution is so uniform -throughout the galaxy that they can't center it. They can't possibly -trace anything back to us. Besides, they wouldn't suspect us. With -our reputation, other firms would get knocked off in time to give -us plenty of warning. Lutzenschiffer's, for instance, is putting out -heroin by the ton."</p> - -<p>"Again I say that's what <i>you</i> think." Fairchild remained entirely -unconvinced. "Nobody else is putting out the stuff that comes out of -Cave Two Seventeen—demand and price prove that. What you don't seem to -get, Graves, is that some of those damned Lensmen have brains. Suppose -they put Worsel of Velantia, Tregonsee of Rigel IV, or even Kinnison -himself onto this job—then what? The minute that anybody decides to -run a rigid statistical analysis of our records, we're done."</p> - -<p>"Um—" This was a distinctly disquieting thought, in view of the -impossibility of concealing anything from a Gray Lensman who was really -on the prowl. "That might not be so good. What would you advise, then?"</p> - -<p>"Shut down Two Seventeen—and preferably the whole hush-hush end—until -we can get our records absolutely honest and our death rates down to -the old-time ten-year average," the scientist insisted. "In that way -only can we make ourselves really safe."</p> - -<p>"Shut down? The way they're pushing us for production?" Graves sneered. -"You talk like a fool. The chief would toss us both down the chute and -put somebody in here that <i>would</i> really produce."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I don't mean without permission. Talk him into it. It's best for -him, as well as everybody else, over the long pull."</p> - -<p>"He couldn't see it. I can't either, really," grunted the manager. "If -we can't dope out something better than that, things have got to go on -as is."</p> - -<p>"I suspected so—but you asked me. The next best thing is to use some -new form of death, openly explainable, to clean up our books."</p> - -<p>"Wonderful!" Graves snorted contemptuously. "What can we possibly add -to what we are using right along?"</p> - -<p>"A loose atomic vortex."</p> - -<p>"Whoooosh!" The fat man deflated in an exclamation of profound -surprise, then came back up for air, gasping. "Man, you're nuts. -There's only one on the planet, and it's—or do you mean—but nobody -ever touched one of those things off deliberately! Can it be done?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. It isn't simple, but we Fellows of the College of Radiation -know how—theoretically—the transformation can be made to occur. The -fact that it is a new idea makes it all the better. It has never been -done because it has been impossible to extinguish the things. But now -'Storm' Cloud is putting them out."</p> - -<p>"I see. Neat, very neat." Graves' agile and cunning brain was going -over the possibilities. "Certain of our employees, I take it, will be -upon a picnic in the upper end of the valley when this unfortunate -occurrence is to take place?"</p> - -<p>"Exactly—and enough mythical ones to straighten out our bookkeeping. -Then, later, we can dispose of suspects as they appear. Vortices are -absolutely unpredictable, you know. People we don't like can die of -radiation or of any one or a mixture of various toxic gases and vapors -and the vortex will take the blame."</p> - -<p>"And later, when it gets dangerous, Storm Cloud can blow it out for -us," Graves gloated. "But we'll not want him for a long, long time!"</p> - -<p>"No, but we'll report it and ask for him the hour it happens—" -Fairchild silenced the manager's expostulations. "Use your head, -Graves! Anybody who has a vortex go out of control wants it killed as -soon as possible. But here's the joker—Cloud has enough Class A prime -urgent demands on file right now to keep him busy for the next ten or -fifteen years. Therefore we won't be able to get him—see?"</p> - -<p>"I see. This is nice, Fairchild, very, very nice. But the head office -had better keep an eye on Cloud, just the same."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER TWO</p> - -<p class="ph2">Vortex Buster</p> - - -<p>Robert Ryder, Bachelor of Hydroponics from the University of Newspoke, -was also, maritally, a bachelor. For a year or so after graduation, -while he was making good with Tellurian Pharmaceutical, Inc., he had no -reason to be dissatisfied with that state of affairs. However, Mother -Nature went to work upon him in her wonted fashion, and, never averse -to feminine society, he began to go in for girls in a large and serious -way.</p> - -<p>In the hydroponics office there was an eminently personable and yet -level-headed young filing clerk named Jacqueline Comstock, who was all -unconsciously—or was it?—working much more toward her Mrs. degree -than for the good of the firm.</p> - -<p>It was inevitable, then, that these two should single each other out; -that each should come to behold in the other all that made life worth -while. They planned, breathtakingly happy.</p> - -<p>They saved their money, instead of indulging in expensive amusements; -they took long hikes.</p> - -<p>Thus they discovered many choice spots affording the maximum of -privacy, of comfort, and of view; thus they came to know almost as -individuals the birds and beasts and reptiles in the far-flung pens.</p> - -<p>They sat blissfully, arms around each other, upon a rustic seat -improvised from rocks, branches, and leaves. Below them, almost under -their feet, was a den of venomous serpents, but they did not see the -snakes.</p> - -<p>Before them, equally unperceived, there extended the magnificent vista -of stream and valley and mountain.</p> - -<p>All they saw, however, was each other—until their attention was -literally wrenched to a man who was climbing frantically toward them -with the aid of a stout cudgel which he used as a staff. The girl -gazed briefly, stared, and then, with a half-articulate moan, shrank -even closer against her lover's side. Ryder, even while his left arm -tightened around his Jackie's waist, felt with his right hand for a -club of his own and tensed his muscles in readiness for strife—for the -climbing man was all too apparently mad.</p> - -<p>His breathing was horrible. Mouth tight-clamped, in spite of his -terrific exertion, he was sniffing—sniffing loathsomely, lustfully, -each whistling inhalation filling his lungs to bursting. He exhaled -explosively, as though begrudging the second of time required to empty -himself of air. Wide-open eyes glaring fixedly ahead, he blundered -upward, paying no attention whatever to his path. He tore through -clumps of thorny growth; he stumbled and fell over logs and stones; he -caromed from boulders, as careless of the needles which tore clothing -and skin as of the rocks which bruised his flesh to the very bone.</p> - -<p>He struck the gate of the pen immediately beneath the two appalled -watchers, and then stopped. He moved to the right and paused, -whimpering in anxious agony. Back to the gate and over to the left he -went, where he stopped and sent forth a blood-curdling howl. Whatever -the frightful compulsion was, whatever it was that he sought, he could -not deviate enough from his line to go around the pen. He looked, -and for the first time saw the gate and the fence and the ophidian -inhabitants of the den. They did not matter—nothing mattered. He -fumbled with the lock, then furiously attacked it and the gate and -the fence with his club—fruitlessly. He tried to climb the fence, -but failed. He tore off sandals and socks and, by dint of thrusting -fingers and toes ruthlessly into the narrow meshes of the woven wire, -he succeeded in getting through.</p> - -<p>No more than he had minded the thorns and the rocks did he mind the -eight strands of viciously-barbed wire surmounting that fence. He -did, however, watch the snakes. He took pains to drop into an area -temporarily clear of them, and he pounded to death the half-dozen -serpents bold enough to bar his path.</p> - -<p>Then, dropping to the ground, he writhed and scuttled about, sniffing -ever harder, nose plowing the ground. He halted; he dug with his bare -hands at the hard soil. Thrusting his face into the hole, he inhaled -tremendously. His body writhed, trembled, shuddered uncontrollably, -then stiffened convulsively into a supremely ecstatic rigidity, -terrible to gaze upon.</p> - -<p>The horribly labored breathing ceased. The body collapsed bonelessly, -even before the outraged serpents crawled up and struck.</p> - -<p>Jacqueline Comstock saw very little of the outrageous performance. She -screamed once, shut both eyes and, twisting about within the embracing -arm, burrowed her face into the man's left shoulder.</p> - -<p>Ryder, however—white-faced, jaw set, sweating—watched the whole -ghastly thing to its grimly cataclysmic end. When it was over he licked -his lips and swallowed hard before he could talk.</p> - -<p>"It's all over, dear—no danger now," he finally managed to say. "We'd -better go. We ought to turn in an alarm—make a report or something. -They'll want us as witnesses."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I can't, Bob!" she sobbed. "If I open my eyes I just know I'll -look, and if I look I'll ... I'll just simply turn inside out."</p> - -<p>"Hold everything, Jackie! Keep your eyes shut. I'll pilot you and tell -you when it's safe to look."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>More than half carrying his companion, still gripping unconsciously his -heavy club, the man set off down the rugged trail. Out of sight of what -had happened, the girl opened her eyes and they continued the descent -in a more usual, more decorous fashion until they met a man hurrying -upwards.</p> - -<p>"Oh, Doctor Fairchild! There was a—" But the report which Ryder was -about to make was unnecessary; the alarm had already been given.</p> - -<p>"I know!" the scientist puffed. "Stop! Stay right where you are." He -jabbed a finger emphatically downward to anchor the couple in the exact -spot they occupied. "Don't talk! Don't say a word—until I get back."</p> - -<p>Fairchild returned after a time, unhurried and completely at ease. -He did not need to ask the shaken couple if they had seen what had -occurred. It was plainly evident that they had.</p> - -<p>"But—but, Doctor—" Ryder began.</p> - -<p>"Keep still! Don't talk at all!" Fairchild ordered brusquely. Then, -in an ordinary conversational tone, he went on: "Until we have -investigated this extraordinary occurrence thoroughly—sifted it to -the bottom—the probability of spying cannot be disregarded. As the -only eye-witnesses to what actually happened, your reports will be -exceedingly valuable. But I do not want to hear a word until we are in -a place which I am sure beyond peradventure is proof against any and -all spy-rays. Do you understand?"</p> - -<p>"Oh yes, I understand."</p> - -<p>"Pull yourselves together, then. Act unconcerned, casual—particularly -when we get to the Administration Building. Talk about the weather, or, -better yet, about the honeymoon you are going to take on Chickladoria."</p> - -<p>Thus it was that there was nothing noticeably abnormal about the group -of three which strolled into the office building and entered a private -automatic elevator. The conveyance, however, went down instead of up.</p> - -<p>"I am taking you to my private laboratory, not to my office," Fairchild -replied to Ryder's unspoken question. "Frankly, young folks, I am a -scared—a badly scared man."</p> - -<p>This statement, so true and yet so misleading, resolved thoroughly -the young engineer's inchoate doubts. Entirely unsuspectingly the -couple accompanied the Senior Radiationist along the grim corridor. -They paused as he unlocked and swung open a door of thick metal; they -stepped unquestioningly into the room in response to his gestured -invitation. He did not, however, follow them. Instead, he swung shut -the heavy slab, whose closing cut off completely the filing clerk's -piercing scream of fear.</p> - -<p>"Cut out that noise!" came raspingly from a speaker in the steel -ceiling of the small room—a room which was very evidently not Doctor -Fairchild's private laboratory. "It won't do you any good. You're -sound-proofed. Talk all you please, but any more of that yelling and -I'll have to put you out of your misery."</p> - -<p>"But Mr. Graves, I thought—Dr. Fairchild told us—we were to report on -that—" Ryder's words came confusedly from the maze of his surprise.</p> - -<p>"You're to report on nothing. You saw too much and know too much, -that's all."</p> - -<p>"Oh, so <i>that's</i> it." Ryder's mind reeled as some part of the actual -significance of what he had seen struck home. "But listen, Graves. -Jackie didn't see anything. She had her eyes shut all the time, and -doesn't know anything. You don't want the murder of such a girl as she -is on your mind, I know. Let her go and she'll never say a word. We'll -both swear to that. Or you could—"</p> - -<p>"Why? Just because she's got a face and a shape?" the fat man sneered. -"There are thousands of women as good-looking as she is, but I've got -only one life—" Graves broke off as Fairchild entered the office.</p> - -<p>"Well, how about it? How bad is it?" the manager asked.</p> - -<p>"Not bad at all. Everything's under control."</p> - -<p>"Listen, Doctor Fairchild!" Ryder put in, desperately, "surely you -don't have to murder Jackie here in cold blood. I was just suggesting -to Graves that he could get a therapist—"</p> - -<p>"Shut up," the scientist ordered coldly. "Our therapists are working on -things that are really important. You two must die."</p> - -<p>"But why?" Ryder protested wildly. He could not as yet perceive more -than a small fraction of the whole. "I tell you, it's—"</p> - -<p>"We'll let you guess," said Fairchild.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Shock upon shock had been too much for the girl's overstrained nerves. -She fainted quietly and Ryder eased her unconscious form down to the -cold steel floor.</p> - -<p>"Can't you put her into a better place than this?" the man protested -then.</p> - -<p>"You'll find water and food, and that's enough." Graves laughed -coarsely. "You won't live very long, so don't worry about conveniences. -But keep still. If you want to know what is going to happen to you, -listen—we have no objections to that—but one more word out of you and -I cut the circuit. Go ahead, Fairchild, with what you were saying."</p> - -<p>"There was a fault in the rock. Small, but big enough to let a little -of the fine smoke seep through. He must have been a sniffer before -to be able to smell the trace of the stuff that was drifting down the -hill. All fixed now, though. I'm having the fault, and any others that -may exist, cemented up solid. Death by snake bite will fix our records."</p> - -<p>"Fair enough. Now, how about these two? There has been some talk of a -honeymoon to Chickladoria, but that may have been a blind. Doubles? -Disappearance? The vortex? What do you think?"</p> - -<p>"Um—We've got to hold the risk at minimum." Fairchild pondered for -minutes. "We can't disintegrate them, that's sure. We're trying to -clear our books of too much of that stuff already. They've got to be -found dead, and the quota for the vortex for this period is full. -Therefore we'll have to keep them alive and out of sight—where they -are is as good a place as any—for a week."</p> - -<p>"Why alive? We've kept stiffs in storage before now."</p> - -<p>"Too chancey—dead tissues change too much. We weren't courting -investigation then, but now we are—on the vortex, at least—so we -have to keep our noses clean. How about this? They decided that they -couldn't wait any longer and got married today. You, big-hearted -philanthropist that you are, told them that they could take their two -weeks vacation immediately and that you would square it with their -department heads. They went on their honeymoon. Not to Chickladoria, -of course—too long and too risky—but to a place where nobody knows -them. We can fake the evidence on that easily enough. They come back in -about a week, to get settled, and the vortex gets them. See any flaws -in that set-up?"</p> - -<p>"No, that looks perfect," Graves decided after due deliberation. "One -week from tonight, at midnight, they go out. Hear that, Ryder?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, you pot-bellied—"</p> - -<p>The fat man snapped a switch.</p> - -<p>Doggedly and skillfully though he tried, Ryder could open up no -avenue of escape or of communication; Fairchild and Graves had seen -efficiently to that. And Jacqueline, in the inevitability of impending -death, steadied down to meet it. She was a woman. In minor crises she -had hidden her face and had shrieked and had fainted; but in this -ultimate one she drew from the depths of her woman's soul not only a -power to overcome her own weaknesses, but also an extra something with -which to sustain and to fortify Ryder in his black moments.</p> - -<p>They were together. That fact, and the far more important one that they -were to die together, robbed incarceration and death itself of sting.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>At the Atomic Research Laboratory on Teelus a conference was taking -place between Unattached Lensmen Philip Strong, the head of that -laboratory, and Doctor Neal Cloud, ex-atomic-physicist, now "Storm" -Cloud, the Vortex Blaster.</p> - -<p>Cloud had become the Vortex Blaster because a fragment of a loose -atomic vortex had wiped out his entire family—not by coincidence, but -by sheer cosmic irony. For he, while protecting his home and his loved -ones from lightning by means of a mathematically infallible network of -lightning rods, had all unknowingly erected a super-powerful magnet -for loose-flying vortices of atomic disintegration.</p> - -<p>Nor were such vortices scarce. Every time an atomic powerplant went -out of control, a loose atomic vortex resulted, and there was, at that -time, no way of extinguishing them. It was theoretically possible to -blow them out with duodec, but the charge of explosive had to match -within very close limits the instantaneous value of the vortex's -activity. Since that value varied rapidly and almost unpredictably, -practically all such attempts resulted in the death of the operator and -the creation of a dozen or more new centers of annihilation.</p> - -<p>There was a possibility that Cloud, a mathematical prodigy able to -compute instantaneously any mathematical problem, would be able to -succeed where so many others had failed; but as long as he had Jo -and the three kids, as long as he had the normal love of life, that -possibility had never occurred to him.</p> - -<p>When he lost them, however, he no longer had the slightest interest in -living. Unwilling to kill himself, he decided to try to blow out the -oldest and worst vortex upon Tellus. Against the orders of his chief -and the pleadings of his friends he tried it. He succeeded.</p> - -<p>He had been burned; he had been broken, but he carried no scars. The -Phillips treatment for the replacement of lost or damaged members of -the human body had taken care of that. His face looked youthful; his -hard-schooled, resiliently responsive body was in startlingly fine -condition for that of a man of forty.</p> - -<p>The Phillips treatment could not, however, fill a dully aching -void within him. It could not eradicate from mind and soul the -absence of and the overpowering longing for his deceased wife and -children—particularly his wife, Jo the lovely, Jo the beloved, Jo his -all in all for eighteen fleeting and intensely happy years.</p> - -<p>He no longer wore that psychic trauma visibly; it no longer came -obtrusively between him and those with whom he worked, but it was and -always would be there. He had by this time blown out so many vortices -and had developed such an effective technique that he no longer had -any hope that any vortex could ever kill him—but there were other -forms of death. He still would not actually court it; but more and more -certainly, as the days dragged on, he came to know that not by one -single millimeter would he dodge anyone or anything bringing the dread -messenger his way.</p> - -<p>"Where do you want me to go next, Chief?" the Vortex Blaster asked. -"Spica or Rigel or Corvina? Those three are the worst, I'd say."</p> - -<p>"Uh-huh—Rigel's is probably a shade the worst in property damage and -urgency. Before we decide, though, I wish you'd take a good look at the -data on this one from Dekanore III. See if you see what I do."</p> - -<p>"Dekanore III?" Cloud glanced curiously at the older man. "Didn't know -they were having any trouble. Only got one, haven't they?"</p> - -<p>"Two now—they just had a new one. It's that new one I'm talking about. -It's acting funny—damned funny."</p> - -<p>Cloud went through the data in brow-furrowing concentration, then -charted some of it and frowned.</p> - -<p>"I get it. 'Damned funny' is right," he agreed. "The toxicity is too -steady, but at the same time the composition of the effluvium seems -to be too varied. Inconsistent, apparently—but since there's no real -attempt at a gamma analysis and very little actual mathematical data, -it could be; they're so utterly unpredictable. Inexperienced observers, -I take it, with chemical and medical bias?"</p> - -<p>"Very much so, from our angle."</p> - -<p>"Well, I'll say this much—I never saw a gamma chart that would fit -this stuff, and I can't even imagine what the sigma curve would look -like. Boss, I'd like to run a full test on that baby before it goes -orthodox."</p> - -<p>"My thought exactly. And we have a valid excuse for giving it priority, -too. It happens to be killing more people than all three of those bad -ones combined."</p> - -<p>"I can fix that toxicity, I think, with exciters; and I'll throw a -solid cordon around it, if I have to, to keep the fools from getting -themselves burned to death. However, I won't blow it out until I -find out why it's acting so—if it is. Clear the ether, Chief, I'm -practically there!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It did not take long to load Cloud's apparatus-packed flitter into a -liner, Dekanore-bound. But that trip was not uneventful. Half-way there -an alarm rang out and the dread word "Pirates!" resounded throughout -the ship.</p> - -<p>Consternation reigned, for organized piracy had vanished with the -fall of the Council of Boskone. Treasure ships were either warships -themselves or were escorted by warships. But this vessel was no -treasure ship; she was only a passenger liner.</p> - -<p>She had had little enough warning—her alert Communications Officer -had sent out only a part of his first distress call when the -blanketing interference closed down. The pirate—a first-class -super-dreadnought—flashed up, and a heavy visual beam drove in.</p> - -<p>"Go inert," came the tense command. "We are coming aboard."</p> - -<p>"Are you crazy?" The liner's captain was surprised and disgusted, -rather than alarmed. "If not, you've got the wrong ship. Everything -we have aboard, including the ransom—if any—you can get for our -passengers, wouldn't pay your expenses."</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't know, of course, that you are carrying a package of -Lonabarian jewelry, would you?" The question was elaborately skeptical.</p> - -<p>"I know damned well that I'm not!"</p> - -<p>"We'll take the package you <i>haven't</i> got, then!" The pirate snapped. -"Go inert and open up, or I'll inert you with a needle-beam and open -you up, compartment by compartment—like this." A narrow beam lashed -out and expired. "That was through one of your cargo holds, just to -show you that I mean business. The next one will be through your -control room."</p> - -<p>Resistance being out of the question, the liner went inert, and while -the intrinsic velocities of the two vessels were being matched, the -attacker issued further instructions.</p> - -<p>"All officers are to be in the control room, all passengers in the main -saloon. Everybody unarmed. Any person wearing arms or slow in obeying -orders will be blasted."</p> - -<p>Lines were rigged and space-suited men crossed the intervening void.</p> - -<p>One squad went to the control room. Its leader, seeing that the -Communications Officer was still trying to drive a call through -the blanket, beamed him down without a word, then fused the entire -communications panel. The captain and four or five other officers, -maddened by this cold-blooded butchery, went for their guns and were -butchered in turn.</p> - -<p>A larger group—helmets thrown back for unimpeded vision, hands bared -for instantaneous and accurate use of weapons—invaded the main saloon. -Most of them went on through to perform previously assigned tasks, -only a half dozen posting themselves to guard the passengers. One of -these guards, a hook-nosed individual wearing consciously an aura of -authority and dominance, spoke.</p> - -<p>"Just take it easy, folks, and nobody will get hurt. If any of you -have guns, don't go for them. That's a specialty that—" One of his -DeLameters flamed briefly. Cloud's right arm vanished almost to the -shoulder. The man behind him—what was left of him—dropped.</p> - -<p>"Take it easy, I said," he went calmly on. "You can tie that arm up, -fella, if you want to. It was in line with that guy who was trying -in his slow way to pull a gun. You nurse over there, take him to the -sick-bay and let them fix up his wing. If anybody stops you tell them -Number One said to. Now the rest of you watch your step. I'll cut down -every damn one of you that so much as looks like he wanted to start -something."</p> - -<p>They obeyed. They were very near the point of panic, but in view of -what had happened no one dared to make the first move. The leniency -displayed toward the wounded man also had a soothing effect.</p> - -<p>In a few minutes the looting parties returned to the saloon.</p> - -<p>"Did you get it, Six?"</p> - -<p>"We got it. It was in the mail, like you said."</p> - -<p>"The safe?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. Wasn't much in it, but not bad, at that."</p> - -<p>"QX. Control room! All done—let's go!"</p> - -<p>The pirates backed away, their vessel disappeared, and its passengers -rushed for their staterooms.</p> - -<p>Then: "Doctor Cloud—Chief Pilot calling Doctor Cloud," the speaker -announced.</p> - -<p>"Cloud speaking."</p> - -<p>"Report to the control room, please."</p> - -<p>"Oh, excuse me—I didn't know that you were wounded," the officer -apologized as he saw the Blaster's bandaged stump. "You had better go -to bed."</p> - -<p>"Doing nothing would only make it worse. Can I be of any help?"</p> - -<p>"Do you know anything about communicators?"</p> - -<p>"A little."</p> - -<p>"Good. All our communications officers were killed and the sets—even -those in the lifeboats—blasted. You can't do much with your left -hand, of course, but you may be able to boss the job of rigging up a -spare."</p> - -<p>"I can do more than you think," Cloud grinned wryly. "It so happens -that I'm left-handed. Give me a couple of technicians and we'll see -what we can do."</p> - -<p>They set to work, but before they had accomplished anything a cruiser -drove up, flashing its identification as a warship of the Galactic -Patrol.</p> - -<p>"We picked up the partial call you got off," the young commander said -briskly. "With that and the center of interference we didn't lose any -time. Let's make this snappy." He was itching to be off after the -marauder, but he could not leave until he had ascertained the facts -and had been given a clearance signal by the merchantman's commanding -officer. "You aren't hurt much. Don't need to call a repair-ship for -you, do I?"</p> - -<p>"No."</p> - -<p>"QX." A quick investigation ensued.</p> - -<p>"Anybody who ships stuff like that open mail ought to lose it, but it's -tough on innocent bystanders. Anything else I can do for you?" the -rescuer asked.</p> - -<p>"Not unless you can lend us a communications officer or two."</p> - -<p>"Sorry, but we're short-handed there ourselves. Can give you anybody -else you need though, I think."</p> - -<p>"Nothing else, thanks."</p> - -<p>"Sign this clearance then, please, and I'll get on that fellow's tail. -I'll send a copy of the report to your owners' head office. Clear -ether!"</p> - -<p>The visitor shot away and the liner, after repairs had been made, -resumed its course toward Dekanore, with Cloud and a couple of -electrical technicians as communications officers.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Vortex Blaster was met effusively at the dock by Manager Graves -himself. The fat man was overwhelmingly sorry that Cloud had lost his -arm, but assured him that the accident wouldn't lay him up very long. -He, Graves, would get a Posenian surgeon over here so fast that—</p> - -<p>If the manager was taken aback to learn that Cloud had had a Phillips -treatment already, he scarcely showed it. He escorted the specialist -to Deka's best hotel, where he introduced him largely and volubly. -Graves took him to supper. Graves took him to a theater and showed him -the town. Graves told the hotel management to give the specialist the -best rooms and the best valet they had and that all of his activities -whatever their nature, purpose, or extent, were to be charged to -Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, Inc. Graves was a grand guy.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Cloud broke loose finally, however, and went to the dock to see about -storing his flitter.</p> - -<p>It had not been unloaded. There would be a slight delay, he was -informed, because of the insurance inspections necessitated by the -damage—and Cloud had not known that there had been any damage! When he -had found out just what that beam had done to his little ship he swore -viciously and sought out the liner's Chief Pilot.</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you tell me that that damned pirate holed us?" he demanded -hotly.</p> - -<p>"Why didn't you ask?" the officer replied, honestly surprised. "I don't -suppose that it occurred to anybody—I know it didn't to me—that you -might be interested."</p> - -<p>And that was, Cloud knew, strictly true. Passengers were not informed -of such occurrences. He had been enough of an officer so that he could -have learned everything if he had so wished, but not enough of one to -have been informed of such matters as routine. Nor was it surprising -that it had not come up in conversation. Damage to cargo meant -nothing whatever to those in the liner's control room; a couple of -easily-patched holes in the hull were not worth mentioning. From their -standpoint the only real damage was done to the communicators, and -Cloud himself had set them to rights. No, this delay was his own fault -as much as anybody else's.</p> - -<p>"You won't lose anything, though," the pilot said helpfully. "It's all -covered by insurance, you know."</p> - -<p>"It's not the money I'm yapping about—it's time. Those instruments -and generators can't be duplicated anywhere except on Tellus, and even -there it's all special-order stuff—oh, damn!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER THREE</p> - -<p class="ph2">"Clear Ether!"</p> - - -<p>During the following days Tellurian Pharmaceuticals entertained Cloud. -Not insistently—Graves was an expert in such matters—but simply by -letting him know that the planet was his. He could do anything he -pleased; he could have any number of companions to help him do it. And -as a result he did—within limits—exactly what Graves wanted him to -do. In spite of the fact that he did not want to enjoy life, he liked -it.</p> - -<p>One evening, however, he refused to play a slot machine, explaining to -his laughing companion that the laws of chance were pretty thoroughly -shackled in such mechanisms—and the idle remark backfired. What was -the mathematical probability that all the things that had happened to -him could have happened by pure chance?</p> - -<p>That night he analyzed his data and found that the probability was -an infinitesimal. And there were too many other incidents—all -contributory. Six of them—seven if he counted his arm. If it had been -his left arm—jet back! Since he wrote with his right hand, very few -people knew that he was left-handed, and anyway, it didn't make any -difference. Everybody knew that it took both hands and both feet to -do what he did. Seven it was; and that made it virtually certain that -accident was out.</p> - -<p>But, if he was being delayed and hampered deliberately, who was doing -it, and why? It didn't make any kind of sense. Nevertheless, the idea -would not down.</p> - -<p>He was a trained observer and an analyst second to none. Therefore he -soon found out that he was being shadowed, but he could not get any -truly significant leads.</p> - -<p>"Graves, have you got a spy-ray detector?" he asked boldly—and -watchfully.</p> - -<p>The fat man did not turn a hair. "No, nobody would want to spy on me. -Why?"</p> - -<p>"I feel jumpy, as though somebody were walking on my grave. I don't -know why anybody would be spying on me, but—I'm neither a Lensman nor -an esper, but I'd swear that somebody's peeking over my shoulder half -the time. I think I'll go over to the Patrol station and borrow one."</p> - -<p>"Nerves, my boy, nerves and shock," Graves diagnosed. "Losing an arm -would shock hell out of anybody's nervous system, I'd say. Maybe the -Phillips treatment—the new one growing on—pulls you out of shape."</p> - -<p>"Could be," Cloud assented moodily. His act had been a flop. If Graves -knew anything—and he'd be damned if he could see any grounds for such -a suspicion—he hadn't given away a thing.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, the Blaster went next to the Patrol office, which was -of course completely and permanently shielded. There he borrowed the -detector and asked the lieutenant in charge to get a special report -from the Patrol upon the alleged gems and what, if anything, it knew -about either the cruiser or the pirates. To justify the request he had -to explain his suspicions.</p> - -<p>After the messages had been sent the young officer drummed thoughtfully -upon his desk. "Wish I could do something, Doctor Cloud, but I can't -see how I can," he decided finally. "I'll notify Narcotics right away, -of course, but without a shred of evidence I can't act, even if they -are as big a zwilnik outfit as Wembleson's was, on Bronseca...."</p> - -<p>"I know. I'm not accusing them. It may be anything from Vandemar to -Andromeda. All firms—all individuals, for that matter—have spy-ray -blocks. Call me, will you, when you get that report?"</p> - -<p>The call came eventually and the Patrolman was round-eyed as he -imparted the information that, as far as anyone could discover, there -had been no Lonabarian gems and the rescuing cruiser had not been a -Patrol vessel at all. Cloud was not surprised.</p> - -<p>"I thought so," he said, flatly. "This is a hell of a thing to say, but -it now becomes a virtual certainty—mathematically, the probability -approaches absolute certainty as a limit—that this whole fantastic -procedure was designed solely to keep me from analyzing and blowing out -that vortex. Here's what I'm going to do." Bending over the desk, even -in that ultra-shielded office, he whispered busily for minutes.</p> - -<p>"But listen, Doctor!" the Patrolman protested. "Wait—let a Lensman do -it. Do you realize that if they're clean and if they catch you at it, -nothing in the universe can keep you from doing at least ninety days in -the clink?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. But if we wait, the chances are that it'll be too late. They will -have had time to cover up whatever they're doing. What I am asking you -is—will you back my play if I catch them with the goods?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. We'll be here, armored and ready. But I still think you're -completely nuts."</p> - -<p>"Maybe so, but if my mathematics is wrong, it is still a fact that my -arm will grow back on just as fast in clink as anywhere else. Clear -ether, Lieutenant—until tonight."</p> - -<p>Cloud made an engagement for luncheon with Graves. Arriving a few -minutes early, he was of course shown into the private office. Seeing -that the manager was busily signing papers, he strolled aimlessly to -the side window and seemed to gaze appreciatively at the masses of -gorgeously-blooming flowers just outside. What he really saw, however, -was his detector. Since he was wearing it openly upon his wrist, he -knew that he was not under observation. Nobody knew that he had in his -sleeve a couple of small but highly efficient implements. Nobody knew -that he was left-handed. Nobody knew that he had surveyed, inch by -inch, the burglar-alarm wiring of this particular window, nor that he -was an expert in such matters. Therefore no one saw what he did, nor -was any signal given that he did anything at all.</p> - -<p>That same night, however, that window opened alarmlessly to his deft -touch. That side was dark, but enough light came through the front -windows so that he could see what he was doing. Bad or good? He did not -know. Those walls might very well have eyes, but he had to take that -chance. One thing was in his favor: no matter how crooked they were -they couldn't keep armored troops on duty as night-watchmen. That would -be begging for trouble. And, in a pinch, he could get the Patrolmen -there as fast as they could get their thugs.</p> - -<p>He had not brought any weapons. If he was wrong, he would have no need -of one and it would only aggravate his offense. If right, one wouldn't -be enough and there would be plenty available. There they were, a -drawerful of them. DeLameters—full charged and ready—complete with -belts. He was right.</p> - -<p>He leaped to Graves' desk. A spy-ray. That basement—"private -laboratories"—was still blocked. He threw switch after switch—no -soap. Communicators—He was getting somewhere now—a steel-lined room, -a girl and a boy.</p> - -<p>"Eureka! Good evening, folks."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It had not taken long for Ryder to arrive at the explanations of the -predicament in which he and the girl were so hopelessly enmeshed.</p> - -<p>"Thionite!" he explained to her, bitterly. "I never saw a man take -thionite before, let alone die of it, but it's the only thing I can -think of that can turn a man into such an utter maniac as that one was. -They're <i>growing</i> the stuff. They must be a zwilnik outfit from top to -bottom. That's why they've got to rub us out."</p> - -<p>"But how could it get out?"</p> - -<p>"Through a fault, Fairchild said, a crack in the rocks. A millionth -of a gram is enough, you know, and the stuff's so fine that it's -terrifically hard to hold. If we could only tell the Patrol!"</p> - -<p>But they could not tell, nor could they escape. They exerted their -every resource, exhausted every possibility—in vain. And as day -followed day Ryder almost went mad under the grinding thought that they -both must die without any opportunity of revealing their all-important -knowledge. Hence he burst out violently when the death-cell's speaker -gave tongue.</p> - -<p>"Eureka? Damn your gloating soul to hell, Graves!" he yelled furiously.</p> - -<p>"This isn't Graves!" the speaker snapped. "Cloud. Storm Cloud, the -Vortex Blaster, investigating—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, Bob, it is! I recognize his voice!" the girl screamed.</p> - -<p>"Quiet! This is a zwilnik outfit, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"I'll say it is," Ryder gasped in relief. "Thionite—"</p> - -<p>"That's enough, details later. Keep still a minute!" Locked together in -almost overpowering relief, the imprisoned pair listened as the crisp -voice went on:</p> - -<p>"Lieutenant? I was right—zwilnik. <i>Thionite!</i> Get over here fast. -Blast down the Mayner Street door—stairway on right, two flights down, -corridor to left, half-way along left side, Room B twelve. Snap it up!"</p> - -<p>"But wait, Cloud, wait!" they heard a fainter voice protest. "Wait -until we get there. You can't do anything alone!"</p> - -<p>"Can't wait. Got to get these kids out—evidence!" Cloud broke the -circuit and, as rapidly as his one hand permitted, buckled gun-belts -around himself. He knew that Graves would have to kill those two -youngsters if he possibly could. If they were silenced, it was -eminently possible that all other evidence could be destroyed in time.</p> - -<p>"For God's sake save Jackie anyway!" Ryder prayed. He knew just how -high those stakes were. "And watch out for gas, radiations, and -traps—a dozen alarms must have been sprung before now all around here."</p> - -<p>"What kind of traps?" Cloud demanded.</p> - -<p>"Deadfalls, sliding doors—I don't know what they haven't got in this -damned place."</p> - -<p>"Take Fairchild's private elevator, Doctor!" the girl's clear voice -broke in. "Graves said that he could kill us in here with gas or rays -or—"</p> - -<p>"Where is it?"</p> - -<p>"The one farthest from the stairs."</p> - -<p>Cloud jumped up, listening with half an ear to the babblings from below -as he searched for air-helmets. Radiations, in that metal-lined room, -were out—except possibly for a few narrow-beam projectors, which he -could deal with easily enough. Gas, however, was bad. They couldn't -weld cover-plates everywhere, even if they had time and metal. Every -drug house had air-helmets, though, and this one must have hundreds of -them. Ah! here they were!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He put one on, and made awkward shift to drape two more around his -neck. He had to keep his one hand free. To the indicated elevator -he dashed. Down two floors. He ran along the corridor and drove the -narrowest, hottest possible cutting beam of his DeLameter into the lock -of Room B Twelve. It took time to cut even that small semi-circle in -that refractory and conductive alloy—altogether too much time—but the -kids would know who it was. The zwilniks would unlock the cell with a -key, not a torch.</p> - -<p>They knew. When Cloud kicked the door open they fell upon him eagerly.</p> - -<p>"A helmet and a DeLameter apiece. Get them on quick. Now help me buckle -this—thanks. Miss Jackie, stay back there, clear of our feet. You, -man, lie down here in the doorway. Keep your ray-gun outside, and stick -your head out just barely far enough to see—no farther."</p> - -<p>A spot of light appeared in a port, then another. Cloud's weapon flamed -briefly. "I thought so. They do their serious radiation work somewhere -else. The air right now, though, I imagine, is bad. It won't be long -now. Do I hear something?"</p> - -<p>"Somebody's coming, but suppose it's the Patrol?"</p> - -<p>"They'll be in armor, so a few blasts won't hurt 'em. Maybe the -zwilniks will be in armor, too—if so we'll have to duck—but I imagine -that they'll throw the first ones in here just as they are."</p> - -<p>They did. Graves, or whoever was directing things, rushed his nearest -guards into action, hoping to reach B Twelve before anyone else could.</p> - -<p>But as that first detachment rounded the corner Cloud's DeLameter -flamed white, followed quickly by Ryder's, and in those withering -blasts of energy the zwilniks died. The respite was, however, short. -The next men to arrive wore armor against which the DeLameters raved in -vain, but only for a second.</p> - -<p>"Back!" Cloud ordered, and swung the heavy door as the attackers' beams -swept past. It could not be locked, but it could be welded solidly to -the jamb, which operation was done with dispatch, if not with neatness.</p> - -<p>"I hope they come in time." The girl's low voice carried a prayer. Was -this brief flare of hope false—would not only she and her Bob, but -also their would-be savior die? "That other noise—suppose that's the -Patrol?"</p> - -<p>It was not really a noise—the cell was sound-proof—it was an -occasional jarring vibration of the entire structure.</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't wonder." Cloud looked around the room as he spoke. "Heavy -stuff—semi-portables, perhaps. Well, let's see if we can't find some -more junk like that trap-door to stick onto that patchwork. Jackie, you -might grab that bucket and throw water. Every little bit helps and it's -getting mighty hot. Careful! Don't scald yourself."</p> - -<p>The heavy metal of the door was bright-to-dull red over half its area -and that area was spreading rapidly. The air of the room grew hot and -hotter. Bursts of live steam billowed out and, condensing, fogged the -helmets and made the atmosphere even more oppressive.</p> - -<p>The glowing metal dulled, brightened, dulled. The prisoners could -only guess at the intensity of the battle being waged without. They -could follow its progress only by the ever-shifting temperature of the -barrier which the zwilniks were so suicidally determined to beam down. -Then a blast of bitterly cold air roared from the ventilator, clearing -away the gas in seconds, and the speaker came to life.</p> - -<p>"Good work, Cloud and you other two," it said chattily. "Glad to see -that you're all on deck. The boys have been working on what's left of -the air-conditioner, so now we can cool you off a little and I can see -what goes on there. Get into this corner over here, so that they can't -blast you if they hole through."</p> - -<p>The barrier grew hotter, flamed fiercely white. A narrow pencil of -energy came sizzlingly through—but only for seconds. It expired. -Through the hole there poured the reflection of a beam so brilliant -as to pale the noonday sun. The portal cooled; heavy streams of water -hissed and steamed. Warm water—almost hot—spurted into and began to -fill the room. A cutting torch, water-cooled and carefully operated -now, sliced away the upper two-thirds of the fused and battered door. -The grotesquely-armored lieutenant peered in.</p> - -<p>"Anybody hurt, Cloud?" he shouted. Upon being assured that no one was, -he went on: "Good. We'll have to carry you out. Step up here where we -can get hold of you."</p> - -<p>"I'll walk and I'll carry Jackie myself," Ryder protested, while two of -the armored warriors were draping Cloud tastefully around the helmet of -a third.</p> - -<p>"You'll get boiled to the hips if you try it. The water's deep and hot. -Come on!"</p> - -<p>The slowly rising water was steaming sullenly; the walls and the -ceiling of the corridor gave mute but eloquent testimony of the -appalling forces which had been unleashed. Wood, plastic, concrete, -metal—nothing was as it had been. Cavities yawned; plates and -pilasters were warped, crumbled, fused into hellish stalactites; mighty -girders hung awry. In places complete collapse had necessitated the -blasting out of detours.</p> - -<p>Through the wreckage of what had been a magnificent building the -cavalcade made its way, but when the open air was reached the three -rescued ones were not left to their own desires. Instead, they were -escorted by a full platoon of Patrolmen to an armored car, which was in -turn escorted to the Patrol Station.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid to take chances with you until we find out who is who and -what is what around here," the young commander explained. "The Lensmen -will be here, with reinforcements, in the morning, but I think you had -better stay here with us for a while, don't you?"</p> - -<p>"Protective custody, eh?" Cloud grinned. "I don't remember ever having -been arrested in such a nice way before, but it's QX with me. Thanks, -Lieutenant, for everything."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Lensmen came, and companies of Patrolmen equipped in many and various -fashions, but it was several weeks before the situation was entirely -under control. Then Ellington—Councillor Ellington, the old Unattached -Lensmen who was in charge of all Narcotics work—called the three -detainees into the office which had been set aside for his use.</p> - -<p>"We can release you now," the Lensman smiled. "Thanks, from me as well -as from the Patrol, for everything you have done. There has been some -talk that you two youngsters have been contemplating a honeymoon upon -Chickladoria or thereabouts?"</p> - -<p>"Oh, no, sir—that is—That was just talk, sir." Both spoke at once.</p> - -<p>"I realize that the report may have been exaggerated or premature, or -both, but it strikes me as being a sound idea. Therefore, not as a -reward, but in appreciation, the Patrol will be very glad to have you -as its guests throughout such a trip—all expense—if you like."</p> - -<p>They liked.</p> - -<p>"Very well. Lieutenant, take Miss Cochran and Mr. Ryder to the -Disbursing Office, please.... Dr. Cloud, the Patrol will take -cognizance of what you have done. In the meantime, however, I would -like to say that in uncovering this attempt to grow Trenconian -broad-leaf here, you have been of immense, of immeasurable assistance -to us."</p> - -<p>"Nothing much, sir, I'm afraid. I shudder to think of what's coming. If -the zwilniks can grow that stuff anywhere—"</p> - -<p>"Not at all, not at all," Ellington interrupted briskly. "No worse -than ever, if as bad. For if such an entirely unsuspected firm as -Tellurian Pharmaceuticals, with all their elaborate preparations and -precautions—some of the inspectors must have been corrupted too, -although we aren't to the bottom of that phase yet—could not get more -than started, it is not probable that any other attempt will prove -markedly successful. And in the case of the other habit-forming drugs, -which Tellurian Pharmaceuticals and undoubtedly many other supposedly -reputable firms have been distributing in quantity, you have given us a -very potent weapon."</p> - -<p>"What weapon?" Cloud was frankly puzzled.</p> - -<p>"Statistical analysis and correlation of apparently unrelated -indices—as you pointed out."</p> - -<p>"But they have been used for years!" the Blaster protested.</p> - -<p>"Admitted—but only when individual departures from the norm became so -marked as to call for a special investigation. We now have a corps of -analysts applying them as routine. Thus, while we cannot count upon -having any more such extraordinary help as you have given us, we should -not need it. I don't suppose that I can give you a lift back to Tellus?"</p> - -<p>"I don't think so, thanks. My new flitter is en route here now. I'll -have to analyze this vortex anyway. Not that I think it's abnormal -in any way—those were undoubtedly murders, not vortex casualties -at all—but just to complete the record. And since I can't do any -extinguishing until I grow a new flipper, I might as well stay here and -keep on practising."</p> - -<p>"Practising? Practising what?"</p> - -<p>"Gun-slinging—the lightning draw. I intend to get at least a lunch -while the next pirate who pulls a DeLameter on me is getting a square -meal."</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STORM CLOUD ON DEKA ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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