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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..c8b455d --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68718 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68718) diff --git a/old/68718-0.txt b/old/68718-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 75e1de4..0000000 --- a/old/68718-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1793 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Out of the sea, by Leigh Brackett - -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: Out of the sea - -Author: Leigh Brackett - -Release Date: August 9, 2022 [eBook #68718] - -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 OUT OF THE SEA *** - - - - - - OUT OF THE SEA - - By Leigh Brackett - - [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 - - The Hordes from Below - - -Anyone but Webb Fallon would have been worried sick. He was down to his -last five dollars and quart of Scotch. His girl Madge had sketched him -categorically in vitriol, and married somebody else. His job on the -Los Angeles _Observer_ was, like all the jobs he’d ever had, finally, -definitely, and for all time, cancelled. - -Being Webb Fallon, he was playing a fast game of doubles on the -volley-ball court at Santa Monica Beach, letting the sun and the salt -air clear off a hangover. - -When he came off the court, feeling fine and heading for the water, big -Chuck Weigal called to him. - -“So the _Observer_ finally got wise to you, huh? How come?” - -Fallon grinned, his teeth white against the mahogany burn of his -hard, lean oval face. His corded body gleamed in the hot sun, and his -slanting grey-green eyes were mockingly bright. - -“If you must know,” he said, “I was busy drowning my sorrows on the -night of the big quake, two weeks ago. I didn’t know anything about it -until I read the papers next morning. The boss seemed to think I was a -little--er--negligent.” - -Weigal grunted. “I don’t wonder. A quake as bad as the ’Frisco one, and -you sleep through it! Phew!” - -Fallon grinned, and went on. About half-way down the beach a bright -yellow bathing suit caught his eye. He whistled softly and followed it -into the water. After all, now that Madge was gone.... - -He knew the girl by sight. Fallon had an eye for blonde hair and -Diana-esque figures. That was one thing Madge and he had fought about. - -The girl swam like a mermaid. Fallon lengthened his stroke, came up -beside her, and said, “Hello.” - -She blinked salt water out of sapphire blue eyes and stared. “I know -you,” she said. “You’re Webb Fallon.” - -“I’m flattered.” - -“You needn’t be. I know a girl named Madge, too.” - -“Oh.” Fallon’s grey-green eyes narrowed. His lean face looked suddenly -ugly, like a mean dog. Or more like a wolf, perhaps, with his thin -straight lips and slanting eyes. - -“What did Madge tell you about me?” he asked softly. - -“She said you were no good.” The blue eyes studied his face. “And,” -added the girl deliberately, “I think she was right.” - -“Yeah?” said Fallon, very gently. He hadn’t yet got over his cold rage -at being jilted for a dull, prosperous prig. The girl’s face was like -a mask cut out of brown wood and set with hard sapphires. He made a -tigerish, instinctive movement toward it. - -A wave took them unawares, knocked them together and down in a -struggling tangle. They broke water, gasping in the after-swirl. - -Then, quite suddenly, the girl screamed. - -It was a short scream, strangled with sea-water, but it set the hairs -prickling on Fallon’s neck. He looked past the girl, outward. - -Something was rising out of the sea. - - * * * * * - -Webb Fallon, standing shoulder-deep in the cold water, stared in a -temporary paralysis of shock. The thing simply couldn’t be. - -There was a snout armed with a wicked sword. That and the head behind -it were recognizable as those of a swordfish. But the neck behind them -was long and powerful, and set on sloping shoulders. Members like -elongated fins just becoming legs churned the surface. A wholly piscine -tail whipped up gouts of spray behind the malformed silver body. - -Fallon moved suddenly. He grabbed the girl and started toward shore. -The Thing emitted a whistling grunt and surged after them. - -Waves struck them; the aftersuck pulled at their legs. They floundered, -like dreamers caught in nightmare swamps. And Fallon, through the -thrashing and the surf and the sea-water in his ears, began to hear -other sounds. - -There was a vast stirring whisper, a waking and surging of things -driven up and out. There were overtones of cries from unearthly -throats. Presently, then, there were human screams. - -Fallon’s toes found firm sand. Still clutching the girl, he splashed -through the shallows. He could hear the wallowing thunder of creatures -behind them, and knew that they had to run. But he faltered, staring, -and the girl made a little choked sound beside him. - -The shallow margin of the sea was churned to froth by a nightmare -horde. The whole broad sweep of the beach was invaded by things that, -in that stunned moment, Fallon saw only as confused shadows. - -He started to run, toward the hilly streets beyond the beach. The -creature with the swordfish snout was almost on them. A fish, out of -the sea! It reared its snaky neck and struck down. - -Fallon dodged convulsively. The sword flashed down and buried itself in -the sand not five inches from his foot. - -It never came out of the sand. A tail-less, stub-legged thing with -three rows of teeth in its shark-like jaws fastened onto the creature’s -neck, and there was hot mammalian blood spilling out. - -They ran together, Fallon and the girl. The summer crowds filling -the beaches, the promenade, the hot-dog stands and bath-houses, were -fighting in blind panic up the narrow streets to the top of the bluff. -It was useless to try to get through. Fallon made for an apartment -house. - -Briefly, in clear, bright colors, he saw isolated scenes. A starfish -twenty feet across wrapping itself around a woman and her stupefied -child. A vast red crab pulling a man to bits with its claws. Something -that might once have been an octopus walking on four spidery legs, its -remaining tentacles plucking curiously at the volley-ball net that -barred its way. - -The din of screaming and alien cries, the roar of the crowds and the -slippery, thrashing bodies melted into dull confusion. Fallon and the -girl got through, somehow, to the comparative safety of the apartment -house lobby. - -They found an empty place by a bay window and stopped. Fallon’s legs -were sagging, and his heart was a leaping pain. The girl crumpled up -against him. - -They stared out of the window, dazed, detached, like spectators -watching an imaginative motion-picture and not believing it. - - * * * * * - -There was carnage outside, on the broad sunlit beach. Men and women and -children died, some caught directly, others trampled down and unable to -escape. But more than men were dying. - -Things fought and ate each other. Things of mad distortion of familiar -shapes. Things unlike any living creature. Normal creatures grown out -of all sanity. But all coming, coming, coming, like a living tidal wave. - -The window went in with a crash. A woman’s painted, shrieking face -showed briefly and was gone, pulled away by a simple marine worm grown -long as a man. The breeze brought Fallon the stench of blood and fish, -drowning the clean salt smell. - -“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said. “Come on.” - -The girl came, numbly. Neither spoke. There was, somehow, nothing to -say. Fallon took down a heavy metal curtain rod, holding it like a club. - -The front doors had broken in. People trampled through in the blind -strength of terror. Fallon shrugged. - -“No way to get past them,” he said. “Stay close to me. And for God’s -sake, don’t fall down.” - -The girl’s wet blonde head nodded. She took hold of the waistband of -his trunks, and her hand was like ice against his spine. - -Out through broken doors into a narrow street, and then the crowd -spread out a little, surging up a hillside. Police sirens were -beginning to wail up in the town. - -Down below, the beaches were cleared of people. And still the things -came in from the sea. Fallon could see over the Santa Monica Pier now, -and the broad sweep of sand back of the yacht harbor was black with -surging bodies. - -Most of the yachts were sunk. The bell-buoy had stopped ringing. - -The sunlight was suddenly dim. Fallon looked up. His grey-green eyes -widened, and his teeth showed white in a snarl of fear. - -Thundering in on queer heavy wings, their bodies hiding the sun, were -beasts that stopped his heart in cold terror. - -They had changed, of course. The bat-like wings had been broadened -and strengthened. They must, like the other sea-born monsters, have -developed lungs. - -But the size was still there! Five to ten feet in wing-spread--and -behind, the thin, deadly, whip-like tails. - -Rays! The queer creatures that fly bat-like under water--now thundering -like giant bats through the air! - -There were flying fish wheeling round them like queer rigid birds. They -had grown legs like little dragons, and long tails. - -A pair of huge eels slid over the rough earth, pulled down a man and -fought over the body. Policemen began to appear, and there was a -popping of guns. The sirens made a mad skirling above the din. - -Some of the rays swooped to the crowded beach. Others came on, scenting -human food. - -Guns began to crack from the cliff-tops, from the windows of apartment -houses. Fallon caught the chatter of sub-machine guns. One of the rays -was struck almost overhead. - -It went out of control like a fantastic plane and crashed into the -hillside, just behind Fallon and the girl. Men died shrieking under -its twenty-foot, triangular bulk. - -It made a convulsive leap. - -The girl slipped in the loose rubble, and lost her hold on Fallon. The -broad tentacles on the ray’s head closed in like the horns of a half -moon, folding the girl in a narrowing circle of death. - - * * * * * - -Fallon raised his iron curtain rod. He was irrationally conscious, -with a detached fragment of his brain, of the girl’s sapphire eyes and -the lovely strength of her body. Her face was set with terror, but she -didn’t scream. She fought. - -Something turned over in Fallon’s heart, something buried and -unfamiliar. Something that had never stirred for Madge. He stepped in. -The bar swung up, slashed down. - -The leathery skin split, but still the feelers hugged the girl closer. -The great ray heaved convulsively, and something whistled past Fallon’s -head. It struck him across the shoulders, and laid him in dazed agony -in the dirt. - -The creature’s tail, lashing like a thin long whip. - -Webb Fallon got up slowly. His back was numb. There was hot blood -flooding across his skin. The girl’s eyes were blue and wide, fixed on -him. Terribly fixed. She had stopped fighting. - -Fallon found an eye, set back on one of the tentacles. He set the end -of the iron rod against it, and thrust downward.... - -Whether it was the rod, or the initial bullet, Fallon never knew, but -the tentacles relaxed. The girl rose and came toward him, and together -they went up the hill. - -They were still together when sweating volunteers picked them up and -carried them back into the town. - -Fallon came to before they finished sewing up his back. The emergency -hospital was jammed. The staff worked in a kind of quiet frenzy, with -a devil’s symphony of hysteria beating up against the windows of the -wards. - -They hadn’t any place to keep Fallon. They taped his shoulders into a -kind of harness to keep the wound closed, and sent him out. - -The girl was waiting for him in the areaway, huddled in a blanket. They -had given Fallon one, too, but his cotton trunks were still clammy cold -against him. He stood looking down at the girl, his short brown hair -unkempt, the hard lines of his face showing sharp and haggard. - -“Well,” he said. “What are you waiting for?” - -“To thank you. You saved my life.” - -“You’re welcome,” said Fallon. “Now you’d better go before I -contaminate you.” - -“That’s not fair. I am grateful, Webb. Truly grateful.” - -Fallon would have shrugged, but it hurt. “All right,” he said wearily. -“You can tell Madge what a little hero I was.” - -“Please don’t leave me,” she whispered. “I haven’t any place to go. All -my clothes and money were in the apartment.” - -He looked at her, his eyes cold and probing. Brief disappointment -touched him, and he was surprised at himself. Then he went deeper, into -the clear sapphire eyes, and was ashamed--which surprised him even more. - -“What’s your name?” he asked. “And why haven’t you fainted?” - -“Joan Daniels,” she said. “And I haven’t had time.” - -Fallon smiled. “Give me your shoulder, Joan,” he said, and they went -out. - - - - - CHAPTER TWO - - Catastrophe--or Weapon? - - -Santa Monica was a city under attack. Sweating policemen struggled -with solid jams of cars driven by wild-eyed madmen. Horns hooted and -blared. And through it all, like banshees screaming with eldritch -mirth, the sirens wailed. - -“They’ll declare martial law,” said Fallon. “I wonder how long they can -hold those things back?” - -“Webb,” whispered Joan, “what _are_ those things?” - -Strangely, they hadn’t asked that before. - -They’d hardly had time even to think it. - -Fallon shook his head. “God knows. But it’s going to get worse. Hear -that gunfire? My apartment isn’t far from here. We’ll get some clothes -and a drink, and then....” - -It was growing dark when they came out again. Fallon felt better, with -a lot of brandy inside him and some warm clothes. Joan had a pair of -his slacks and a heavy sweater. - -He grinned, and said, “Those never looked as nice on me.” - -Soldiers were throwing up barricades in the streets. The windows of -Corbin’s big department store were shattered, the bodies of dead rays -lying in the debris. The rattle of gunfire was hotter, and much closer. - -“They’re being driven back,” murmured Fallon. - -A squadron of bombers droned over, and presently there was the _crump_ -and roar of high explosives along the beaches. The streets were fairly -clear now, except for stragglers and laden ambulances, and the thinning -groups of dead. - -Fallon thought what must be happening in the towns farther south, with -their flat low beaches and flimsy houses. How far did this invasion -extend? What was it? And how long would it last? - -He got his car out of the garage behind the apartment house. Joan took -the wheel, and he lay down on his stomach on the back seat. - -His back hurt like hell. - -“One good thing,” he remarked wryly. “The finance company won’t be -chasing me through this. Just go where the traffic looks lightest, and -shout if you need me.” - -He went to sleep. - -It was morning when he woke. Joan was asleep on the front seat, curled -up under a blanket. She had spread one over him, too. - -Fallon smiled, and looked out. - -The first thing he noticed was the unfamiliar roar of motors overhead, -and the faint crackling undertone of gunfire. They were still under -siege, then, and the defenders were still giving ground. - -They were parked on Hollywood Boulevard near Vine. Crowds of -white-faced, nervous people huddled along the streets. The only -activity was around the newsboys. - -Fallon got out, stiff and cursing, and went to buy a paper. An extra -arrived before he got there. The boy ripped open the bundle, let out a -startled squawk, and began to yell at the top of his lungs. - -A low, angry roar spread down the boulevard. Fallon got a paper, and -smiled a white-toothed, ugly smile. He shook Joan awake and gave her -the paper. - -“There’s your answer. Read it.” - - * * * * * - -She read aloud: “Japs Claim Sea Invasion Their Secret Weapon! - -“Only a few minutes ago, the Amalgamated Press recorded an official -broadcast from Tokyo, declaring that the fantastic wave of monsters -which have sprung from the ocean at many points along the Western Coast -was a new war-weapon of the Axis which would cause the annihilation of -American and world-wide democratic civilization. - -“The broadcast, an official High Command communique, said in part: ‘The -Pacific is wholly in our hands. American naval bases throughout the -ocean are useless, and the fleet where it still exists is isolated. In -all cases our new weapon has succeeded. The Pacific states, with the -islands, come within our natural sphere of influence. We advise them to -submit peacefully.’” - -Joan Daniels looked up at Fallon. At first there was only stunned -pallor in her face. Then the color came, dark and slow. - -“Submit peacefully!” she whispered. “So that’s it. A cowardly, -fiendish, utterly terrible perversion of warfare--something so horrible -that it....” - -“Yeah,” said Fallon. “Save it.” - -He was leafing through the paper. There was a lot more--hurried -opinions by experts, guesses, conjectures, and a few facts. - -Fallon said flatly. “They seem to be telling the truth. Fragmentary -radio messages have come in from the Pacific. Monsters attacked just -as suddenly as they did here, and at about the same time. They simply -clogged the guns, smothered the men, and wrecked ground equipment by -sheer weight of numbers.” - -Joan shuddered. “You wouldn’t think....” - -“No,” grunted Fallon. “You wouldn’t.” He flung the paper down. “Yah! -Not an eyewitness account in the whole rag!” - -Joan looked at him thoughtfully. She said, “Well....” - -“They fired me once,” he snarled. “Why should I crawl back?” - -“It was your own fault, Webb. You know it.” - -He turned on her, and again his face had the look of a mean dog. -“That,” he said, “is none of your damned business.” - -She faced him stubbornly, her sapphire eyes meeting his slitted -grey-green ones with just a hint of anger. - -“You wouldn’t be a bad sort, Webb,” she said steadily, “if you weren’t -so lazy and so hell-fired selfish!” - -Cold rage rose in him, the rage that had shaken him when Madge told him -she was through. His hands closed into brown, ugly fists. - -Joan met him look for look, her bright hair tangling over the collar -of his sweater, the strong brown curves of cheek and throat catching -the early sunlight. And again, as it had in that moment on the cliff, -something turned over in Fallon’s heart. - -“What do you care,” he whispered, “whether I am or not?” - -For the first time her gaze flickered, and something warmer than the -sunlight touched her skin. - -“You saved my life,” she said. “I feel responsible for you.” - -Fallon stared. Then, quite suddenly, he laughed. “You fool,” he -whispered. “You damned little fool!” - -He kissed her. And he kissed her gently, as he had never kissed Madge. - -They got breakfast. After that, Fallon knew, they should have gone -east, with the tense, crawling hordes of refugees. But somehow he -couldn’t go. The distant gunfire drew him, the stubborn, desperate -planes. - -They went back, toward the hills of Bel Air. After all, there was -plenty of time to run. - -Things progressed as he had thought they would. Martial law was -declared. An orderly evacuation of outlying towns was going forward. -Fallon got through the police lines with a glib lie about an invalid -brother. It wasn’t hard--there was no danger yet the way he was going, -and the police were badly overburdened. - -Fallon kept the radio on as he drove. There was a lot of wild talk--it -was too early yet for censorship. A big naval battle east of Wake -Island, another near the Aleutians. The defense, for the present, was -getting nowhere. - -Up on the crest of a sun-seared hill, using powerful glasses from his -car, Fallon shook his head with a slow finality. - -The morning mists were clearing. He had an unobstructed view of -Hollywood, Beverly Hills, the vast bowl of land sloping away to the -sea. The broad boulevards to the east were clogged with solid black -streams. And to the west.... - - * * * * * - -To the west there were barricades. There were clouds of powder smoke, -and fleets of low-flying planes. And there was something else. - -Something like a sluggish, devouring tide, lapping at the walls of the -huge M-G-M studios in Culver City, swamping the tarmac at Clover Field, -flowing resistlessly on and on. - -Bombs tore great holes in the restless sea, but they flowed in upon -themselves and were filled. Big guns ripped and slashed at the swarming -creatures. Many died. But there were always more. Many, many more. - -The shallow margin of the distant ocean was still churned to froth. -Still the things came out of it, surging up and on. - -Fighting, spawning, dying--and advancing. - -Joan Daniels pressed close against him, shuddering. “It just isn’t -possible, Webb! Bombers, artillery, tanks, trained soldiers. And we -can’t stop them!” She stiffened suddenly. “Webb!” she cried. “Look -there!” - -Where the bombers swooped through the smoke, another fleet was coming. -A fleet of flat triangular bodies with bat-like wings, in numbers that -clouded the sun. Rays, blind and savage and utterly uncaring. - -Machine guns brought them down by the hundred, but more of them came. -They crashed into heavy ships, fouled propellers, broke controls. - -Joan looked away, “And there are so few planes,” she whispered. - -Fallon nodded. “The whole coast is under attack, remember, from -Vancouver to Mexico. There just aren’t enough men, guns, or planes to -go round. More are coming from the east, but....” He shrugged and was -silent. - -“Then--then you think we’ll have to surrender?” - -“Doesn’t look hopeful, does it? Japan in control of the Pacific, and -this here. We’ll hold out for a while, of course. But suppose these -things come out of the sea indefinitely?” - -“We’ve got to assume they can.” Joan’s eyes were dark and very tired. -“What’s to prevent Japan from loaning her weapon to her friends? Think -of these things swarming in over England.” - -“War,” said Fallon somberly. “A hell of a long, rotten war.” - -He leaned against the car, his grey-green eyes half closed. The breeze -came in from the sea, heavy with the stench of amphibian bodies. The -radio droned on. The single deep line between Fallon’s straight brows -grew deeper. He began to talk, slowly, to Joan. - -“The experts say that the Little Brown Brothers must have some kind -of a movable projector capable of producing rays which upset the -evolutionary balance and cause abnormal growth. Rays like hard X-rays, -or the cosmic rays that govern reproduction. - -“California Tech has dissected several types of monsters. They say that -individual cell groups are affected, causing spontaneous growth in -living individuals, and that metabolism has been enormously speeded, so -that life-cycles which normally took years now take only a few weeks. - -“They also say that huge numbers--the bulk of these creatures--are -mutants, new individuals changed in the egg or the reproductive cell. -All these monsters are growing and spawning at a terrific tempo. -Billions of eggs, laid and hatched, even with the high mortality rate. - -“They’re evolving, at a fantastic rate of speed. They’re growing legs -and lungs and becoming mammals. They’re coming out of the sea, just -as our ancestors did millions of years ago. They’re coming fast, and -they’re hungry.” - -He fixed the girl suddenly with a bright, sharp stare. - -“Do you think a thing as big as that is man-made?” - - * * * * * - -There was a grim, stony weariness in her face. “The Japanese say so. -What other explanation is there?” - -“But,” said Fallon, “why not South America, too?” - -“They were probably afraid the monsters might get out of hand and -tackle their own people,” said Joan bitterly. - -“Maybe.” Again Fallon’s eyes were distant. Then he clapped his hands -sharply and sprang up. “Yes! Got it, Joan!” - -The quick motion ripped at the wound across his back. He swayed and -caught her shoulder, but he didn’t stop talking. - -“Einar Bjarnsson! He was my last job. I interviewed him the day before -the quake. I want to see him, Joan. Now!” - -She took his wrists, half frightened. “What is it, Webb?” - -“Listen,” he said softly. “Remember the radio calls from the islands? -The monsters came out of the west here, didn’t they? Well, out -there--_they came out of the east_!” - -Fallon explained, as he sent the car screaming perilously along winding -mountain roads. Einar Bjarnsson was an expert on undersea life. He had -charted tide paths and sub-sea ‘rivers,’ mapped the continental shelves -and the great deeps. - -Bjarnsson’s recent exploration had been in the Pacific, using a -specially constructed small submarine. His findings on deep-sea -phenomena had occupied space in scientific journals and the Sunday -supplements of newspapers throughout the world. - -Two days before the big quake Einar Bjarnsson returned to the place -he called home--a small bachelor cabin on a hilltop, crammed with -scientific traps and trophies of his exploring. Webb Fallon drew the -assignment of interviewing him. - -“I was pretty sore at Madge, then,” Fallon confessed, “and I had a -ferocious hangover. The interview didn’t go so well. But I remember -Bjarnsson mentioning something about a volcanic formation quite close -to the Pacific coast--something nobody had noticed before. It was -apparently extinct, and the only thing that made it notable was its -rather unusual conformation.” - -Joan stared at him. “What’s that got to do with anything?” - -Fallon shrugged. “Maybe nothing. Only I recall that the epicenter of -the recent quake was somewhere in the vicinity of Bjarnsson’s volcano. -I remember that damned quake quite well, because it cost me my job.” - -Joan opened her mouth and closed it again, hard. Fallon grinned. - -“You were going to tell me it wasn’t the quake, but my own bad -character,” he said mockingly. - -There was something grim in the upthrust lines of her jaw. “I can’t -make you out, Webb,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I think there’s good -stuff in you--and then I think Madge was right!” - -Fallon’s dark oval face went ugly, and he didn’t speak again until -Bjarnsson’s house came in sight. - - - - - CHAPTER THREE - - Bjarnsson’s Submarine - - -Fallon stopped the car and got out stiffly, feeling suddenly tired and -disinterested. He hesitated. Why bother with a crazy hunch? The rolling -crash of gunfire was getting closer. Why not forget the whole thing and -go while the going was good? - -He realized that Joan was watching him with sapphire eyes grown puzzled -and hard. “Damn it!” he snarled. “Stop looking at me as though I were a -bug under glass!” - -Joan said, “Is that Bjarnsson in the doorway?” - -For the third time Fallon’s hands clenched in anger. Then he turned -sharply, white about the lips with the pain it cost him, and strode up -to the small rustic cabin. - -Einar Bjarnsson remembered him. He stood aside, a tall stooped man with -massive shoulders and a gaunt, cragged face. Coarse fair hair shot -with grey hung in his eyes, which were small and the color of frozen -sea-water. - -He said, in a deep, slow voice, “Come in. I have been watching through -my telescope. Most interesting. But it gets too close now. I am -surprised you are here. Duty to your paper, eh?” - -Fallon let it pass. He might get more out of Bjarnsson if the explorer -thought he was still with the _Observer_. And then the thought struck -him--what was he going to do if his hunch was right? - -Nothing. He had no influence. The statesmen were handling things. -Suppose Japan did take the Pacific States? Suppose there was a war? He -couldn’t do anything about it. Let the big boys worry. There’d be a -beach somewhere that he could comb in peace. - -He made a half turn to go out again. Then he caught sight of a map on -the far wall--a map of the Pacific. - -Something took him to it. He put his finger on a spot north and east of -the Hawaiian Islands. And even then he couldn’t have said why he asked -his question. - -“Your volcanic formation was about here, wasn’t it, Bjarnsson?” - -The tall Norseman stared at him with cold shrewd eyes. “Yes. Why?” - -“Look here.” Fallon drew a rough circle with his fingertip, touching -the Pacific Coast, swinging across the ocean through the Gilberts and -the Marshalls, touching Wake, and curving up again to Vancouver. - -“The volcanic formation is the center of that circle,” Fallon said. -“It was also the epicenter of the recent quake, according to Cal-Tech -seismologists. That’s what gave me the hunch. The monsters seem to be -fanning out in a circle from some central point located about there.” - -“That is already explained,” said Bjarnsson. “The Japanese may have -their projector located there. And why not?” - -“No reason at all,” Fallon admitted. “You mentioned, in your interview, -something about a Japanese ocean survey ship coming up just as you -left. That ship might still have been near there at the time of the -quake, mightn’t it?” - -“It is possible. Go on.” There was a little sharp flame flickering in -Bjarnsson’s eyes. - -Fallon said, “Could these super-evolutionary rays be caused by volcanic -action?” - -Bjarnsson’s grey-blond shaggy brows met, and the flame was sharper in -his eyes. “Fantastic. But so is this whole affair.... Yes! If an area -of intense radioactivity were uncovered by an earth-shift, the sea and -all that swims in it might be affected.” - -“Ah!” Fallon’s lips were drawn in a tight grin. “Suppose the officers -of the Japanese ship saw the beginnings of the effect. Suppose they -radioed home, and someone did some quick thinking. Suppose, in short, -that they’re lying.” - -“_Ja_,” whispered Bjarnsson. “Let us think.” - -“I’ve already thought,” said Fallon. “Two weeks would give them time -to arrange everything. The important thing is this--if the force is -man-made, even destroying the projector won’t do any good. They’ll -have others. But if it were a natural force, the psychological aspect -of the thing alone would be tremendous. There’d be a chance of doing -something.” - -The explorer’s deep light eyes glinted. “Our people would fight better -if it was something they _could_ fight.” He swung to the big telescope -mounted in the west windows. “Bah! It gets worse. Those creatures, they -don’t know when they are dead. And the way they come! We must go soon.” - - * * * * * - -He swung back to Fallon. “But how to find out if you are right?” - -“You have a submarine,” said Fallon. - -“So has the Navy.” - -“But they’re all needed. Yours can go where the big ones can’t--and -go deeper. These monsters are all heading for land, which means they -gravitate to the surface. You might get through below.” - -“Yes.” Bjarnsson strode up and down the cluttered room. “We could take -a depth charge. If we found the volcano to be the cause, we might close -the fissure. - -“Time, Fallon! That is the thing. A few days, a few weeks, and the -sheer pressure of these hordes will have forced the defenders back to -the mountains and the deserts. Civilian morale will break.” - -He stopped, making a sharp gesture of futility. “I am forgetting. The -radiations, Fallon. Without proper insulation, we would evolve like the -sea-things. And it would take many days to make lead armor for us, even -if we could get anyone to do the work.” - -“Radiations,” said Fallon slowly. “Yeah. I’d forgotten that. Well, that -stops that. Projector or volcano, you’d never reach it.” - -He brushed a hand across his eyes, all his brief enthusiasm burned -away. He was getting like that. He wished he had a drink. - -“Probably all moonshine, anyway,” he said. “Anyhow, there’s nothing we -can do about it.” - -“Nothing!” Joan Daniels spoke so sharply that both men started. “You -mean you’re not even going to try?” - -“Bjarnsson can pass the idea along for what it’s worth.” - -“You know what that means, Webb! The idea would be either laughed at or -pigeonholed, especially with the Jap propagandists doing such a good -job. The government’s got a war on its hands. Even if someone did pay -attention, nothing would be done until too late. It never is.” - -She gripped his arms, looking up at him with eyes like sea-blue swords. - -“If there’s a bare chance of saving them, Webb, you’ve got to take it!” - -Fallon looked down at her, his wolf’s eyes narrowed. - -“Listen,” he said. “I’m not a fiction hero. We’ve got an Army, a Navy, -an air force, and a secret service. They’re getting paid for risking -their necks. Let them worry. I had a hunch, which may not be worth a -dime. I passed it along. Now I’m going to clear out, before anything -more happens to me.” - -Joan’s face was cut, sharp and bitter, from brown wood. Her eyes had -fire in them, way back. - -“Your logic,” she whispered, “is flawless.” - -“I saved your life,” said Fallon brutally. “What more do you want?” - -The color drained from the brown wood, leaving it marble. Only the -angry fires in her eyes lived, in the pale hard stone. - -“You’re remembering how I kissed you,” said Fallon, so softly that he -hardly spoke at all. “I don’t know why I did. I don’t know why I came -here. I don’t know....” - -He stopped and turned to the door. Bjarnsson, very quietly, was picking -up the phone. Fallon took the knob and turned it. - -“I am sorry,” said a quiet, sibilant voice. “You cannot leave. And you, -sir--put down that telephone.” - - * * * * * - -A small neat man with a yellow face stood on the threshold. He was -holding a small, neat, efficient-looking automatic. Fallon backed into -the room, hearing the click of the cradle as the phone went down. - -“You are Einar Bjarnsson?” The question was toneless and purely -rhetorical. The black eyes had seen the whole room in one swift flick. -“I am Kashimo,” said the man, and waited. - -“Fallon,” Webb said easily. “This is Miss Daniels. We just dropped in -for a chat. Mind if we go now?” - -“I am afraid ...” said Kashimo, and spread his hands. “I have been -discourteous enough to eavesdrop. You have an inventive mind, Mr. -Fallon. An inaccurate mind, but one that might prove disturbing to our -plans.” - -“Don’t worry,” grunted Fallon. “I have no business whatsoever, and I -attend to it closely. Your plans don’t matter to me at all.” - -“Indeed.” Kashimo studied him with black, bright eyes. “You are either -a liar or a disgrace to your country, Mr. Fallon. But I may not take -chances. You and the young lady I must, sadly, cancel out.” - -“And I?” Bjarnsson asked. - -“You come with us,” said Kashimo. Fallon saw four other small neat men -outside, close behind their leader in the doorway. - -He said, “What do you mean, ‘cancel out’?” He knew, before Kashimo -moved his automatic. - -Kashimo said, “Mr. Bjarnsson, please to move out of the line of fire.” - -No one moved. The room was still, except for Joan’s quick-caught -breath. And then motion beyond the west windows caught Fallon’s eye. A -colder fear crawled in his heart, but his voice surprised him, it was -so steady. - -“Kashimo. Look out there.” - -The bright black eyes flicked warily aside. They widened sharply, and -the cords went slack about the jaw. Fallon sprang. - -He had forgotten the wound across his back. The shock of his body -striking Kashimo turned him sick and faint. He knew that the little man -fell, staggering the others so close behind him. - -He knew that Joan Daniels was shouting, and that Bjarnsson had caught -up an ebony war-club and was using it. Shots boomed in his ears. But -one sound kept him from fainting--the thunder of slow relentless giant -wings. - -He got up in unsteady darkness. A round sallow face appeared. He struck -at it. Bone cracked under his knuckles, and the face vanished. Fallon -found a wall and clung to it. - -Hands gripped his ankle--Kashimo’s hands. Bjarnsson was outside mopping -up. Fallon braced himself and drew his foot back. His toe caught -Kashimo solidly under the angle of the jaw. - -“Joan,” said Fallon. The wings were thundering closer. Joan didn’t -answer. A sort of queer panic filled Fallon. - -“Joan!” he cried. “Joan!” - -“Here I am, Webb.” She came from beyond the door, with a heavy little -idol in her hand. It had blood on it. Her golden hair was tumbled and -her neck was bleeding where a bullet had creased it. - -Fallon caught her. He felt her wince under his hands. He didn’t know -quite what he wanted, except that she must be safe. - -He only said, “Hurry, before those things get here.” - -The throb of wings was deafening. Bjarnsson came in, swinging his club. -His cragged face was bloody, but his pale eyes blazed. - -“Good man, Fallon,” he grunted. “All right, let’s go. There’s a cave -below here. Take their guns, young lady. We’ll need them.” - -The sky beyond the west windows was clogged with huge black shapes. -Fallon remembered the smashed windows of the department store in Santa -Monica. “Joan,” he said, “come here.” - -He put his arm around her shoulders. He might have walked all right -without her, but somehow he wanted her there. - - * * * * * - -They dropped down the other side of the hill into a little brush-choked -cleft. There was a shallow cave at one end. - -“There go my windows,” said Bjarnsson, and cursed in Swedish. “In with -you, before those flying devils find us.” - -They were well hidden. Chances were the rays would go right over -them--after they’d finished off Kashimo and his men. Bjarnsson said -softly, “What did they want with me, Fallon?” - -“There’s only one thing they couldn’t get from somebody else,” returned -Fallon. “Your submarine.” - -“Yes. The mechanisms are of my own design. They would need me to -operate it. Does that mean we are right about the volcano?” - -“Maybe. They’d have made plans to control it, of course. Or they may -want your ship merely as a model.” - -There was silence for a while. Outside, heavy wings began to beat -again. They came perilously low, went over, and were gone. - -Einar Bjarnsson said quietly, “I’m going to take the chance, Fallon. -I’m going to try to get my ship through.” - -“What about the radiations?” - -“If Kashimo was planning to use the ship, he’ll have arranged for that. -Anyway, I’m going to see.” His ice-blue eyes stabbed at Fallon. “I -can’t do it alone.” - -Joan Daniels said, “I’ll go.” - -Bjarnsson’s eyes flicked from one to the other. Fallon’s face was dark -and almost dangerous. - -“Wait a minute,” he said gently. - -Joan faced him. “I thought you were going away.” - -“I’ve changed my mind.” Looking at her, at her blue, unsympathetic -eyes, Fallon wondered if he really had. Perhaps the stunning shock of -all that had happened had unsettled him. - -Joan put both hands on his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. -“What kind of a man are you, Webb Fallon?” - -“God knows,” he said. “Where do you keep your boat, Bjarnsson?” - -“In a private steel-and-concrete building at Wilmington. Some of the -improvements are of interest to certain people. I keep them locked -safely away. Or so I thought.” - -Fallon rose stiffly. “Kashimo didn’t come in a car, that’s certain. -He’d have been arrested on sight. Any place for a plane to land near -here?” - -The explorer shook his head. “Unless it could come straight down.” - -Fallon snapped his finger. “A helicopter! That’s it.” - -He led the way out. They found the ’copter on a small level space -beyond the shoulder of the hill. Fallon nodded. - -“Ingenious little chaps. The ship’s painted like an Army plane. Any -pilot would think it was a special job and let it severely alone.” He -turned abruptly to Joan. - -“Take my car,” he told her. “Get away from here, fast. Find someone in -authority and make him listen--just in case.” - -She nodded. “Webb, why are you going?” - -“Because there isn’t time to get anyone else,” he told her roughly. -“Because there’s a story there....” - -He stopped, startled at what he had said. “Yes,” he said slowly, “a -story. My story. Oh hell, why did you have to come along?” - -He put his hands suddenly back of her head and tilted her face up, his -fingers buried in the warm curls at the base of her neck. - -“I was all set,” he whispered savagely. “I knew all the answers. And -then you showed up. If you hadn’t, I’d be half-way to Miami by now. I’d -still be sure of myself. I wouldn’t be so damned confused, thinking one -way and feeling another....” - -She kissed him suddenly, warmly. “I’ll make somebody listen,” she said. -“And then I’ll wait--and pray.” - -Then she was gone. In a minute he heard the car start. - -“Come on,” he snarled at Bjarnsson. “I remember you said you fly.” - - - - - CHAPTER FOUR - - A Dead Man Comes Back - - -It was a nightmare trip. The battle below was terribly clear. Twice -they dodged flights of the giant rays, saved only because the scent of -food kept the attention of the brutes on the ground. - -The harbor basin at Wilmington was choked with slippery, struggling -beasts. There was hardly a sign of shipping. Bjarnsson made for the -flat top of a square building, completely surrounded. - -A flight of rays went over just as they landed. A trap door in the roof -raised and was slammed shut again. - -“Now,” said Fallon grimly, and jumped out. - -They were almost to the trap when a ray sighted them. Fallon shot it -through the eye, but others followed. Bjarnsson wrenched up the trap. A -surprised yellow face peered up, vanished in a crimson smear. - -Bjarnsson hauled the body out and threw it as far as he could. The rays -fought over it like monstrous gulls over a fish head. - -Fallen retched and followed Bjarnsson down. - -There were three other men in the building. One tried to shoot it out -and was killed. The others were mechanics, with no stomachs for the -guns. - -They looked over the sub, a small stubby thing of unusual design, and -Bjarnsson nodded his gaunt shaggy head. - -“These suits of leaded fabric,” he said. “One big, for me. The other -smaller, for Kashimo, perhaps. Can you get into it?” - -Fallon grunted. “I guess so. Hey! Look there.” - -“Ha! A depth charge, held in the claws I use for picking specimens from -the ocean floor. They have prepared well, Fallon.” - -“You know what that means!” Fallon was aware of a forgotten, surging -excitement. His palms came together with a ringing crack. - -“I was right! Kashimo was going to hold you here until the Government -capitulated. Then he was going out to shut off the power. There’s -no projector, Bjarnsson. It _was_ the volcano. If we can close that -fissure while there’s still resistance, we’ll have ’em licked!” - -Bjarnsson’s ice-blue eyes fixed Fallon with a sharp, unwavering stare, -and he spoke slowly, calmly, almost without expression. - -“It will take about three days to get there, working together. One fit -of cowardice or indecision, one display of nerves or temper may destroy -what slight chance we have.” - -“You mean,” said Fallon, “you wish you had someone you could depend -on.” He smiled crookedly. “I’ll do my best, Bjarnsson.” - -They struggled into the clumsy lead armor and shuffled into the small -control room of the submarine. Everything had been prepared in advance. -In a few seconds, automatic machinery was lowering the sub into its -slip. - -Water slapped the hull. Bjarnsson started the motors. They went forward -slowly, through doors that opened electrically. - -Ballast hissed and snarled into the tanks. - -Bjarnsson said, “If we can get through this first pack, into deep -water, we may make it.” He pointed to a knife-switch. “Pull it.” - -Fallon did. Nothing seemed to happen. Bjarnsson sat hunched over the -controls, cold blue eyes fixed on the periscope screen. Fallon had a -swift, horrible sense of suffocation--the steel wall of the sub curving -low over his helmeted head, the surge of huge floundering bodies in the -water outside. - -Something struck the hull. The little ship canted. Fallon gripped his -seat with rigid, painful hands. Bjarnsson’s armored, unhuman shoulders -moved convulsively with effort. Fallon felt a raw panic scream rising -in his throat.... - - * * * * * - -He choked it back. Heavy muffled blows shook the submarine. The motors -churned and shook. Fallon was afraid they were going to stop. Sweat -dripped in his eyes, misted his helmet pane. - -The screws labored on. Fallon heard the tanks filling, and knew that -they were going deeper. The blows on the hull grew fewer, farther -between. Fallon began to breath again. - -Einar Bjarnsson relaxed, just a little. His voice came muffled by his -helmet. “The worst, Fallon--we’re through it.” - -Fallon’s throat was as dry as his face was wet. “But how?” - -“Sometimes, in the deeps, one meets creatures. Hungry creatures, as -large even as this ship. So I prepared the hull. That switch transforms -us into a travelling electric shock, strong enough to discourage almost -anything. I hoped it would get us through.” - -Thinking of what might have happened, Fallon shut his jaw hard. His -voice was unnaturally steady as he asked, “What now?” - -“Now you learn to operate the ship, in case something should happen to -me.” Bjarnsson’s small blue eyes glinted through his helmet pane. “Too -bad there is not a radio here, Fallon, so that you might broadcast as -we go. As it is, I fear the world may miss a very exciting story.” - -“For God’s sake,” said Fallon wearily, and he wasn’t swearing. “Let’s -not make this any tougher. Okay. This is the master switch....” - -In the next twenty-four hours, Fallon learned to handle the submarine -passably well. Built for a crew of two, the controls were fairly -simple, once explained. Nothing else was touched. The only extra switch -that mattered was the one that released the depth charge. - -For an endless, monotonous hell, Fallon stood watch and watch about -with Bjarnsson, one at the controls, one operating the battery -of observation ’scopes, never sleeping. They saved on oxygen as -a precaution, which added to the suffocating discomfort of the -helmet-filters. - -Black, close, nerve-rasping hours crawled by, became days. At last, -Fallon, bent over the ’scope screen, licked the sweat from his thin -lips and looked at Bjarnsson, a blurred dark hulk against the dim glow -of the half-seen instrument panel. - -Fallon’s head ached. The hot stale air stank of oil. His body was tired -and cramped and sweat-drenched, and the wound across his shoulders -throbbed. He looked at the single narrow bunk. - -There was nothing out there in the water but darkness. Even the -deep-sea fish had felt the impulse and avoided the sub. Fallon got up. - -“Bjarnsson,” he said, “I’m going to sleep.” - -The explorer half turned in his seat. - -“_Ja?_” he said quietly. - -“There’s nothing out there,” growled Fallon. “Why should I sit and -glare at that periscope?” - -“Because,” Bjarnsson returned with ominous gentleness, “there might be -something. We will not reach the volcano for perhaps ten hours. You had -better watch.” - -Fallon’s hard jaw set. “I can’t go any longer without sleep.” - -Bjarnsson’s cragged face was flushed and greasy behind his helmet, but -his eyes were like glittering frost. - -“All the whisky and the women,” he whispered. “They make you soft, -Fallon. The girl would have been better.” - -A flashing glimpse of Joan as she had looked in the car that morning -crossed the eye of Fallon’s mind--the tumbled fair hair and the -sunlight warm on throat and cheek, and her voice saying, “You wouldn’t -be bad, Webb ... so lazy and so hell-fired selfish!” - -He cursed and started forward. The dark blur of Bjarnsson rose, -blotting out the green glow. And then the panel light rose in a -shuddering arc. - -Fallon thought for a moment that he was fainting. The low curve of the -hull spun about. He knew that he fell, and that he struck something, -or that something struck him. All orientation was lost. His helmet -rang against metal like a great gong, and then he was sliding down a -cluttered slope. - -A blunt projection ripped across his back. Even through the leaded -suit, the pain of it made him scream. He heard the sound as a distant, -throttled echo. Then even the dim green light was gone. - - * * * * * - -The screen flickered abominably. It showed mostly a blurred mob of -people, trampling back and forth. Then it steadied and there was a -picture, in bright, gay colors. - -A starfish twenty feet across wrapping itself around a woman and her -stupefied child. - -“We saw that,” said Fallon. “On the beach. Remember?” - -He thought Joan answered, but there was another picture. A vast red -crab, pulling a man to bits with its claws. And after that, the -shrieking woman outside the broken window, dragged down by a worm. - -“Wonder who got those shots?” said Fallon. Again Joan answered, but he -didn’t hear her. The pictures moved more rapidly. Rays, black against -the blue sky. Planes falling. Guns firing and firing and choking to -silence. People, black endless streams of them, running, running, -running. - -Joan pulled at him. Her face was strangely huge. Her eyes were as he -had first seen them, hard chips of sapphire. And at last he heard what -she was saying. - -“Your fault, Webb Fallon. This might have been stopped. But you had to -sleep. You couldn’t take it. You’re no good, Webb. No good. No good....” - -Her voice faded, mixed somehow with a deep throbbing noise. “Joan!” he -shouted. “Joan!” But her face faded too. The last he could see was her -eyes, hard and steady and deeply blue. - -“Joan,” he whispered. There was a sound in his head like the tearing of -silk, a sensation of rushing upward. Then he was quite conscious, his -face pressed forward against his helmet and his body twisted, bruised -and painful. - -The first thing he saw was Einar Bjarnsson sprawled on the floor -plates. A sharp point of metal had ripped his suit from neck to waist, -laying his chest bare. - -For a moment of panic horror, Fallon sought for tears in his own suit. -There were none. He relaxed with a sob of relief, and looked up at the -low curve of the hull. - -It was still whole. Fallon shuddered. What product of abnormal -evolution had attacked them in the moment that he had looked away? -Strange he hadn’t seen it coming, before. - -The dim, still bulk of Einar Bjarnsson drew his gaze. Crouched there -on his knees, it seemed to Fallon that the whole universe drew in and -centered on that motionless body. - -“I killed him,” Fallon whispered. “I looked away. I might have seen the -thing in time, but I looked away. I killed him.” - -For a long time he couldn’t move. Then, like the swift stroke of a -knife, terror struck him. - -He was alone under the sea. - -He got up. The chronometer showed an elapsed time of nearly two hours. -The course, held by an Iron Mike, was steady. The beast that had -attacked them must have lost interest. - -Fallon clung to a stanchion and thought, harder than he had ever -thought in his life. - -He couldn’t go on by himself. There had to be two men, to gauge -distances, spot the best target, control the sub in the resultant -blast. Why couldn’t he forget the volcano? There were lots of islands -in the Pacific, beyond the affected sphere. - -He could stay drunk on palm wine as well as Scotch. - -He’d never see Joan again, of course. Joan, accusing, hard-eyed, -contemptuous. Joan, condemning him for murder.... - -Fallon laughed, a sharp, harsh bark. “Joan, hell! That was my own mind, -condemning me!” - - * * * * * - -His gaze went back to Bjarnsson’s body, rolling slightly with the -motion of the ship. It boiled down to that. Murder. His careless, -selfish murder of Bjarnsson. The murder of countless civilians. War, -bitter, brutal, desperate. - -Fallon drew a long, shuddering breath. His head dropped forward in his -helmet, and his slanting wolf’s eyes were closed. Then he turned and -sat down at the controls. - -The single forward ’scope field gave him vision enough to steer. -Anything might attack from the sides or the stern--another beast grown -incredibly huge, but not yet a lung breather. - -Alone, he probably wouldn’t succeed. He wouldn’t live to know whether -he had or not. His gloved hands clenched over the levers that would -change the course, send him away to safety. - -Savagely he forced his hands away. He gripped the wheel. Time slid by -him, black and silent as the water outside. And then.... - -Something moved in the dark behind him. - -Slowly, slowly, Fallon rose and turned. The veins of his lean face were -like knotted cords. The hard steel of the hull held him, tight and -close, smothering. - -Blurred, faint movement. The soft scrape of metal against metal. He had -been so sure Bjarnsson was dead. He’d been dazed and sick, he hadn’t -looked closely. But he’d been sure. Bjarnsson, lying so still, with his -suit ripped open. - -_His suit ripped open._ Volcanic rays would be seeping into his flesh. -Rays of change--perhaps they even brought the dead to life. - -There was a grating clang, and suddenly Fallon screamed, a short choked -sound that hurt his throat. - -Bjarnsson’s face looked at him. Bjarnsson’s face, with every gaunt -bone, every vein and muscle and convolution of the brain traced in -lines of cold white fire. - -The shrouding leaden suit slipped from wide, stooped shoulders. The -heart beat in pulses of flame within the glowing cage of the ribs. -The coil and flow of muscles in arm and thigh was a living, beautiful -rhythm of light. - -“Fallon,” said Einar Bjarnsson. “Turn back.” - -The remembered voice, coming from that glowing, pulsing throat, was the -most horrible thing of all. - -Fallon licked the cold sweat from his lips. “No,” he said. - -“Turn back, or you will be killed.” - -“It doesn’t matter,” whispered Fallon. “I’ve got to try.” - -Bjarnsson laughed. Fallon could see his diaphragm contract in a surge -of flame, see the ripple of the laughter. - -A wave of anger cut across Fallon’s terror, cold and sane. - -“I did this to you, Bjarnsson,” he said. “I’m trying to make up for it. -I thought you were dead. Perhaps, if you put your armor back on, we can -patch it up somehow, and it may not be too late.” - -“But it is too late. So, you blame yourself, eh?” - -“I left my post. Otherwise, you might have dodged that thing.” - -“Dodged it?” Tiny sparkles of light shot through Bjarnsson’s brain. -“Oh, _ja_. Perhaps.” And he laughed again. “So you will not turn back? -Not even for the beautiful Joan?” - -Fallon’s eyes closed, but the lines of his jaw were stern with anger. -“Do you have to torture me?” - -“Wait,” said Bjarnsson. “Wait a little. Then I will know.” - - * * * * * - -His voice was suddenly strange. Fallon opened his eyes. The glowing -fire in the explorer’s body was growing brighter, so that it blurred -the lines of vein and bone and sinew. - -“No,” said Bjarnsson. “No need for torture. Turn back, Fallon.” - -God, how he wanted to! “No,” he whispered. “I’ve got to try.” - -Bjarnsson’s voice came to him, almost as an echo. - -“We were fools, Fallon. Fools to think that we could stop this thing -with a single puny bomb. Kashimo was a fool, too, but he was a gambler. -But we, Fallon, you and I--we were the bigger fools.” - -“The kind of fools,” said Fallon doggedly, “that men have always been. -And damn it, I think I’d rather be the fool I am than the smart guy I -was!” - -Bjarnsson’s laughter echoed in his helmet. Fallon had a moment’s eerie -feeling that he heard with his brain instead of his ears. - -“Wonderful, Fallon, wonderful! You see how circumstance makes us -traitors to ourselves? But there is no need for heroics. You can turn -back, Fallon.” - -The lines of Bjarnsson’s body were quite gone. He loomed against the -darkness as a pillar of shining mist. Fallon’s weary eyes were dazzled -with it. - -“No,” he muttered stubbornly. “No.” - -Bjarnsson’s voice rolled in on him suddenly, soul-shaking as an organ. - -Voice--or mind? A magnificent, thundering strength. - -“This is evolution, Fallon. So shall we be, a million million years -from now. This is living, Fallon. It is godhood! Take off your suit, -Fallon! Grow with me!” - -“Joan,” said Fallon wearily. “Joan, dearest.” - -Cosmic laughter, shuddering in his mind. And then, - -“Turn back, Fallon. In an hour it will be too late.” - -The shining mist was dimming, drawing in upon itself. And at the core, -a tiny light was growing, a frosty white flame that seared Fallon’s -brain. - -“Turn back! Turn back!” - -He fought, silently. But the light and the voice poured into him. -Abruptly, something in him relaxed. He’d been so long without rest. - -He knew, very dimly, that he turned and changed the course, back toward -the coast of California. - - * * * * * - -From somewhere, out of the gulfs between the stars, a voice spoke to -him as he lay sprawled across the control panel. - -“There was no need for you to die, Fallon. Now, I can see much. It -was no monster that struck us, but the first shock of a series of -quakes, which will close the fissure far better than any human agency. -Therefore, what happened to me was not your fault. - -“And I am glad it happened. I, Bjarnsson, was growing old, I had -nothing but science to hold me to Earth. Now my knowledge is boundless, -and I am not confined by the fetters of the flesh. I am Mind--as some -day we will all be. - -“You will be safe, Fallon. The invasion will fail as the power is shut -off, and America can deal with any further dangers. Marry Joan, and be -happy. - -“I don’t know about myself, yet. The possibilities are too vast to be -explored in a minute. I am not dead, Fallon. Remember that! But--” and, -here Fallon heard an echo of Bjarnsson’s harsh, mocking laughter--“if -you should ever cease to be a fool and become again a smart guy, I -shall find a way to send you back along evolution, to a stupid ape! - -“I go now, Fallon. _Skoal!_ And will you name your first-born Einar? I -can see that it will be a son!” - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUT OF THE SEA *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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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: Out of the sea</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Leigh Brackett</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 9, 2022 [eBook #68718]</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 OUT OF THE SEA ***</div> - - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>OUT OF THE SEA</h1> - -<h2>By Leigh Brackett</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" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER ONE</p> - -<p class="ph2">The Hordes from Below</p> - - -<p>Anyone but Webb Fallon would have been worried sick. He was down to his -last five dollars and quart of Scotch. His girl Madge had sketched him -categorically in vitriol, and married somebody else. His job on the -Los Angeles <i>Observer</i> was, like all the jobs he'd ever had, finally, -definitely, and for all time, cancelled.</p> - -<p>Being Webb Fallon, he was playing a fast game of doubles on the -volley-ball court at Santa Monica Beach, letting the sun and the salt -air clear off a hangover.</p> - -<p>When he came off the court, feeling fine and heading for the water, big -Chuck Weigal called to him.</p> - -<p>"So the <i>Observer</i> finally got wise to you, huh? How come?"</p> - -<p>Fallon grinned, his teeth white against the mahogany burn of his -hard, lean oval face. His corded body gleamed in the hot sun, and his -slanting grey-green eyes were mockingly bright.</p> - -<p>"If you must know," he said, "I was busy drowning my sorrows on the -night of the big quake, two weeks ago. I didn't know anything about it -until I read the papers next morning. The boss seemed to think I was a -little—er—negligent."</p> - -<p>Weigal grunted. "I don't wonder. A quake as bad as the 'Frisco one, and -you sleep through it! Phew!"</p> - -<p>Fallon grinned, and went on. About half-way down the beach a bright -yellow bathing suit caught his eye. He whistled softly and followed it -into the water. After all, now that Madge was gone....</p> - -<p>He knew the girl by sight. Fallon had an eye for blonde hair and -Diana-esque figures. That was one thing Madge and he had fought about.</p> - -<p>The girl swam like a mermaid. Fallon lengthened his stroke, came up -beside her, and said, "Hello."</p> - -<p>She blinked salt water out of sapphire blue eyes and stared. "I know -you," she said. "You're Webb Fallon."</p> - -<p>"I'm flattered."</p> - -<p>"You needn't be. I know a girl named Madge, too."</p> - -<p>"Oh." Fallon's grey-green eyes narrowed. His lean face looked suddenly -ugly, like a mean dog. Or more like a wolf, perhaps, with his thin -straight lips and slanting eyes.</p> - -<p>"What did Madge tell you about me?" he asked softly.</p> - -<p>"She said you were no good." The blue eyes studied his face. "And," -added the girl deliberately, "I think she was right."</p> - -<p>"Yeah?" said Fallon, very gently. He hadn't yet got over his cold rage -at being jilted for a dull, prosperous prig. The girl's face was like -a mask cut out of brown wood and set with hard sapphires. He made a -tigerish, instinctive movement toward it.</p> - -<p>A wave took them unawares, knocked them together and down in a -struggling tangle. They broke water, gasping in the after-swirl.</p> - -<p>Then, quite suddenly, the girl screamed.</p> - -<p>It was a short scream, strangled with sea-water, but it set the hairs -prickling on Fallon's neck. He looked past the girl, outward.</p> - -<p>Something was rising out of the sea.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Webb Fallon, standing shoulder-deep in the cold water, stared in a -temporary paralysis of shock. The thing simply couldn't be.</p> - -<p>There was a snout armed with a wicked sword. That and the head behind -it were recognizable as those of a swordfish. But the neck behind them -was long and powerful, and set on sloping shoulders. Members like -elongated fins just becoming legs churned the surface. A wholly piscine -tail whipped up gouts of spray behind the malformed silver body.</p> - -<p>Fallon moved suddenly. He grabbed the girl and started toward shore. -The Thing emitted a whistling grunt and surged after them.</p> - -<p>Waves struck them; the aftersuck pulled at their legs. They floundered, -like dreamers caught in nightmare swamps. And Fallon, through the -thrashing and the surf and the sea-water in his ears, began to hear -other sounds.</p> - -<p>There was a vast stirring whisper, a waking and surging of things -driven up and out. There were overtones of cries from unearthly -throats. Presently, then, there were human screams.</p> - -<p>Fallon's toes found firm sand. Still clutching the girl, he splashed -through the shallows. He could hear the wallowing thunder of creatures -behind them, and knew that they had to run. But he faltered, staring, -and the girl made a little choked sound beside him.</p> - -<p>The shallow margin of the sea was churned to froth by a nightmare -horde. The whole broad sweep of the beach was invaded by things that, -in that stunned moment, Fallon saw only as confused shadows.</p> - -<p>He started to run, toward the hilly streets beyond the beach. The -creature with the swordfish snout was almost on them. A fish, out of -the sea! It reared its snaky neck and struck down.</p> - -<p>Fallon dodged convulsively. The sword flashed down and buried itself in -the sand not five inches from his foot.</p> - -<p>It never came out of the sand. A tail-less, stub-legged thing with -three rows of teeth in its shark-like jaws fastened onto the creature's -neck, and there was hot mammalian blood spilling out.</p> - -<p>They ran together, Fallon and the girl. The summer crowds filling -the beaches, the promenade, the hot-dog stands and bath-houses, were -fighting in blind panic up the narrow streets to the top of the bluff. -It was useless to try to get through. Fallon made for an apartment -house.</p> - -<p>Briefly, in clear, bright colors, he saw isolated scenes. A starfish -twenty feet across wrapping itself around a woman and her stupefied -child. A vast red crab pulling a man to bits with its claws. Something -that might once have been an octopus walking on four spidery legs, its -remaining tentacles plucking curiously at the volley-ball net that -barred its way.</p> - -<p>The din of screaming and alien cries, the roar of the crowds and the -slippery, thrashing bodies melted into dull confusion. Fallon and the -girl got through, somehow, to the comparative safety of the apartment -house lobby.</p> - -<p>They found an empty place by a bay window and stopped. Fallon's legs -were sagging, and his heart was a leaping pain. The girl crumpled up -against him.</p> - -<p>They stared out of the window, dazed, detached, like spectators -watching an imaginative motion-picture and not believing it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was carnage outside, on the broad sunlit beach. Men and women and -children died, some caught directly, others trampled down and unable to -escape. But more than men were dying.</p> - -<p>Things fought and ate each other. Things of mad distortion of familiar -shapes. Things unlike any living creature. Normal creatures grown out -of all sanity. But all coming, coming, coming, like a living tidal wave.</p> - -<p>The window went in with a crash. A woman's painted, shrieking face -showed briefly and was gone, pulled away by a simple marine worm grown -long as a man. The breeze brought Fallon the stench of blood and fish, -drowning the clean salt smell.</p> - -<p>"We've got to get out of here," he said. "Come on."</p> - -<p>The girl came, numbly. Neither spoke. There was, somehow, nothing to -say. Fallon took down a heavy metal curtain rod, holding it like a club.</p> - -<p>The front doors had broken in. People trampled through in the blind -strength of terror. Fallon shrugged.</p> - -<p>"No way to get past them," he said. "Stay close to me. And for God's -sake, don't fall down."</p> - -<p>The girl's wet blonde head nodded. She took hold of the waistband of -his trunks, and her hand was like ice against his spine.</p> - -<p>Out through broken doors into a narrow street, and then the crowd -spread out a little, surging up a hillside. Police sirens were -beginning to wail up in the town.</p> - -<p>Down below, the beaches were cleared of people. And still the things -came in from the sea. Fallon could see over the Santa Monica Pier now, -and the broad sweep of sand back of the yacht harbor was black with -surging bodies.</p> - -<p>Most of the yachts were sunk. The bell-buoy had stopped ringing.</p> - -<p>The sunlight was suddenly dim. Fallon looked up. His grey-green eyes -widened, and his teeth showed white in a snarl of fear.</p> - -<p>Thundering in on queer heavy wings, their bodies hiding the sun, were -beasts that stopped his heart in cold terror.</p> - -<p>They had changed, of course. The bat-like wings had been broadened -and strengthened. They must, like the other sea-born monsters, have -developed lungs.</p> - -<p>But the size was still there! Five to ten feet in wing-spread—and -behind, the thin, deadly, whip-like tails.</p> - -<p>Rays! The queer creatures that fly bat-like under water—now thundering -like giant bats through the air!</p> - -<p>There were flying fish wheeling round them like queer rigid birds. They -had grown legs like little dragons, and long tails.</p> - -<p>A pair of huge eels slid over the rough earth, pulled down a man and -fought over the body. Policemen began to appear, and there was a -popping of guns. The sirens made a mad skirling above the din.</p> - -<p>Some of the rays swooped to the crowded beach. Others came on, scenting -human food.</p> - -<p>Guns began to crack from the cliff-tops, from the windows of apartment -houses. Fallon caught the chatter of sub-machine guns. One of the rays -was struck almost overhead.</p> - -<p>It went out of control like a fantastic plane and crashed into the -hillside, just behind Fallon and the girl. Men died shrieking under -its twenty-foot, triangular bulk.</p> - -<p>It made a convulsive leap.</p> - -<p>The girl slipped in the loose rubble, and lost her hold on Fallon. The -broad tentacles on the ray's head closed in like the horns of a half -moon, folding the girl in a narrowing circle of death.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Fallon raised his iron curtain rod. He was irrationally conscious, -with a detached fragment of his brain, of the girl's sapphire eyes and -the lovely strength of her body. Her face was set with terror, but she -didn't scream. She fought.</p> - -<p>Something turned over in Fallon's heart, something buried and -unfamiliar. Something that had never stirred for Madge. He stepped in. -The bar swung up, slashed down.</p> - -<p>The leathery skin split, but still the feelers hugged the girl closer. -The great ray heaved convulsively, and something whistled past Fallon's -head. It struck him across the shoulders, and laid him in dazed agony -in the dirt.</p> - -<p>The creature's tail, lashing like a thin long whip.</p> - -<p>Webb Fallon got up slowly. His back was numb. There was hot blood -flooding across his skin. The girl's eyes were blue and wide, fixed on -him. Terribly fixed. She had stopped fighting.</p> - -<p>Fallon found an eye, set back on one of the tentacles. He set the end -of the iron rod against it, and thrust downward....</p> - -<p>Whether it was the rod, or the initial bullet, Fallon never knew, but -the tentacles relaxed. The girl rose and came toward him, and together -they went up the hill.</p> - -<p>They were still together when sweating volunteers picked them up and -carried them back into the town.</p> - -<p>Fallon came to before they finished sewing up his back. The emergency -hospital was jammed. The staff worked in a kind of quiet frenzy, with -a devil's symphony of hysteria beating up against the windows of the -wards.</p> - -<p>They hadn't any place to keep Fallon. They taped his shoulders into a -kind of harness to keep the wound closed, and sent him out.</p> - -<p>The girl was waiting for him in the areaway, huddled in a blanket. They -had given Fallon one, too, but his cotton trunks were still clammy cold -against him. He stood looking down at the girl, his short brown hair -unkempt, the hard lines of his face showing sharp and haggard.</p> - -<p>"Well," he said. "What are you waiting for?"</p> - -<p>"To thank you. You saved my life."</p> - -<p>"You're welcome," said Fallon. "Now you'd better go before I -contaminate you."</p> - -<p>"That's not fair. I am grateful, Webb. Truly grateful."</p> - -<p>Fallon would have shrugged, but it hurt. "All right," he said wearily. -"You can tell Madge what a little hero I was."</p> - -<p>"Please don't leave me," she whispered. "I haven't any place to go. All -my clothes and money were in the apartment."</p> - -<p>He looked at her, his eyes cold and probing. Brief disappointment -touched him, and he was surprised at himself. Then he went deeper, into -the clear sapphire eyes, and was ashamed—which surprised him even more.</p> - -<p>"What's your name?" he asked. "And why haven't you fainted?"</p> - -<p>"Joan Daniels," she said. "And I haven't had time."</p> - -<p>Fallon smiled. "Give me your shoulder, Joan," he said, and they went -out.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER TWO</p> - -<p class="ph2">Catastrophe—or Weapon?</p> - - -<p>Santa Monica was a city under attack. Sweating policemen struggled -with solid jams of cars driven by wild-eyed madmen. Horns hooted and -blared. And through it all, like banshees screaming with eldritch -mirth, the sirens wailed.</p> - -<p>"They'll declare martial law," said Fallon. "I wonder how long they can -hold those things back?"</p> - -<p>"Webb," whispered Joan, "what <i>are</i> those things?"</p> - -<p>Strangely, they hadn't asked that before.</p> - -<p>They'd hardly had time even to think it.</p> - -<p>Fallon shook his head. "God knows. But it's going to get worse. Hear -that gunfire? My apartment isn't far from here. We'll get some clothes -and a drink, and then...."</p> - -<p>It was growing dark when they came out again. Fallon felt better, with -a lot of brandy inside him and some warm clothes. Joan had a pair of -his slacks and a heavy sweater.</p> - -<p>He grinned, and said, "Those never looked as nice on me."</p> - -<p>Soldiers were throwing up barricades in the streets. The windows of -Corbin's big department store were shattered, the bodies of dead rays -lying in the debris. The rattle of gunfire was hotter, and much closer.</p> - -<p>"They're being driven back," murmured Fallon.</p> - -<p>A squadron of bombers droned over, and presently there was the <i>crump</i> -and roar of high explosives along the beaches. The streets were fairly -clear now, except for stragglers and laden ambulances, and the thinning -groups of dead.</p> - -<p>Fallon thought what must be happening in the towns farther south, with -their flat low beaches and flimsy houses. How far did this invasion -extend? What was it? And how long would it last?</p> - -<p>He got his car out of the garage behind the apartment house. Joan took -the wheel, and he lay down on his stomach on the back seat.</p> - -<p>His back hurt like hell.</p> - -<p>"One good thing," he remarked wryly. "The finance company won't be -chasing me through this. Just go where the traffic looks lightest, and -shout if you need me."</p> - -<p>He went to sleep.</p> - -<p>It was morning when he woke. Joan was asleep on the front seat, curled -up under a blanket. She had spread one over him, too.</p> - -<p>Fallon smiled, and looked out.</p> - -<p>The first thing he noticed was the unfamiliar roar of motors overhead, -and the faint crackling undertone of gunfire. They were still under -siege, then, and the defenders were still giving ground.</p> - -<p>They were parked on Hollywood Boulevard near Vine. Crowds of -white-faced, nervous people huddled along the streets. The only -activity was around the newsboys.</p> - -<p>Fallon got out, stiff and cursing, and went to buy a paper. An extra -arrived before he got there. The boy ripped open the bundle, let out a -startled squawk, and began to yell at the top of his lungs.</p> - -<p>A low, angry roar spread down the boulevard. Fallon got a paper, and -smiled a white-toothed, ugly smile. He shook Joan awake and gave her -the paper.</p> - -<p>"There's your answer. Read it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She read aloud: "Japs Claim Sea Invasion Their Secret Weapon!</p> - -<p>"Only a few minutes ago, the Amalgamated Press recorded an official -broadcast from Tokyo, declaring that the fantastic wave of monsters -which have sprung from the ocean at many points along the Western Coast -was a new war-weapon of the Axis which would cause the annihilation of -American and world-wide democratic civilization.</p> - -<p>"The broadcast, an official High Command communique, said in part: 'The -Pacific is wholly in our hands. American naval bases throughout the -ocean are useless, and the fleet where it still exists is isolated. In -all cases our new weapon has succeeded. The Pacific states, with the -islands, come within our natural sphere of influence. We advise them to -submit peacefully.'"</p> - -<p>Joan Daniels looked up at Fallon. At first there was only stunned -pallor in her face. Then the color came, dark and slow.</p> - -<p>"Submit peacefully!" she whispered. "So that's it. A cowardly, -fiendish, utterly terrible perversion of warfare—something so horrible -that it...."</p> - -<p>"Yeah," said Fallon. "Save it."</p> - -<p>He was leafing through the paper. There was a lot more—hurried -opinions by experts, guesses, conjectures, and a few facts.</p> - -<p>Fallon said flatly. "They seem to be telling the truth. Fragmentary -radio messages have come in from the Pacific. Monsters attacked just -as suddenly as they did here, and at about the same time. They simply -clogged the guns, smothered the men, and wrecked ground equipment by -sheer weight of numbers."</p> - -<p>Joan shuddered. "You wouldn't think...."</p> - -<p>"No," grunted Fallon. "You wouldn't." He flung the paper down. "Yah! -Not an eyewitness account in the whole rag!"</p> - -<p>Joan looked at him thoughtfully. She said, "Well...."</p> - -<p>"They fired me once," he snarled. "Why should I crawl back?"</p> - -<p>"It was your own fault, Webb. You know it."</p> - -<p>He turned on her, and again his face had the look of a mean dog. -"That," he said, "is none of your damned business."</p> - -<p>She faced him stubbornly, her sapphire eyes meeting his slitted -grey-green ones with just a hint of anger.</p> - -<p>"You wouldn't be a bad sort, Webb," she said steadily, "if you weren't -so lazy and so hell-fired selfish!"</p> - -<p>Cold rage rose in him, the rage that had shaken him when Madge told him -she was through. His hands closed into brown, ugly fists.</p> - -<p>Joan met him look for look, her bright hair tangling over the collar -of his sweater, the strong brown curves of cheek and throat catching -the early sunlight. And again, as it had in that moment on the cliff, -something turned over in Fallon's heart.</p> - -<p>"What do you care," he whispered, "whether I am or not?"</p> - -<p>For the first time her gaze flickered, and something warmer than the -sunlight touched her skin.</p> - -<p>"You saved my life," she said. "I feel responsible for you."</p> - -<p>Fallon stared. Then, quite suddenly, he laughed. "You fool," he -whispered. "You damned little fool!"</p> - -<p>He kissed her. And he kissed her gently, as he had never kissed Madge.</p> - -<p>They got breakfast. After that, Fallon knew, they should have gone -east, with the tense, crawling hordes of refugees. But somehow he -couldn't go. The distant gunfire drew him, the stubborn, desperate -planes.</p> - -<p>They went back, toward the hills of Bel Air. After all, there was -plenty of time to run.</p> - -<p>Things progressed as he had thought they would. Martial law was -declared. An orderly evacuation of outlying towns was going forward. -Fallon got through the police lines with a glib lie about an invalid -brother. It wasn't hard—there was no danger yet the way he was going, -and the police were badly overburdened.</p> - -<p>Fallon kept the radio on as he drove. There was a lot of wild talk—it -was too early yet for censorship. A big naval battle east of Wake -Island, another near the Aleutians. The defense, for the present, was -getting nowhere.</p> - -<p>Up on the crest of a sun-seared hill, using powerful glasses from his -car, Fallon shook his head with a slow finality.</p> - -<p>The morning mists were clearing. He had an unobstructed view of -Hollywood, Beverly Hills, the vast bowl of land sloping away to the -sea. The broad boulevards to the east were clogged with solid black -streams. And to the west....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>To the west there were barricades. There were clouds of powder smoke, -and fleets of low-flying planes. And there was something else.</p> - -<p>Something like a sluggish, devouring tide, lapping at the walls of the -huge M-G-M studios in Culver City, swamping the tarmac at Clover Field, -flowing resistlessly on and on.</p> - -<p>Bombs tore great holes in the restless sea, but they flowed in upon -themselves and were filled. Big guns ripped and slashed at the swarming -creatures. Many died. But there were always more. Many, many more.</p> - -<p>The shallow margin of the distant ocean was still churned to froth. -Still the things came out of it, surging up and on.</p> - -<p>Fighting, spawning, dying—and advancing.</p> - -<p>Joan Daniels pressed close against him, shuddering. "It just isn't -possible, Webb! Bombers, artillery, tanks, trained soldiers. And we -can't stop them!" She stiffened suddenly. "Webb!" she cried. "Look -there!"</p> - -<p>Where the bombers swooped through the smoke, another fleet was coming. -A fleet of flat triangular bodies with bat-like wings, in numbers that -clouded the sun. Rays, blind and savage and utterly uncaring.</p> - -<p>Machine guns brought them down by the hundred, but more of them came. -They crashed into heavy ships, fouled propellers, broke controls.</p> - -<p>Joan looked away, "And there are so few planes," she whispered.</p> - -<p>Fallon nodded. "The whole coast is under attack, remember, from -Vancouver to Mexico. There just aren't enough men, guns, or planes to -go round. More are coming from the east, but...." He shrugged and was -silent.</p> - -<p>"Then—then you think we'll have to surrender?"</p> - -<p>"Doesn't look hopeful, does it? Japan in control of the Pacific, and -this here. We'll hold out for a while, of course. But suppose these -things come out of the sea indefinitely?"</p> - -<p>"We've got to assume they can." Joan's eyes were dark and very tired. -"What's to prevent Japan from loaning her weapon to her friends? Think -of these things swarming in over England."</p> - -<p>"War," said Fallon somberly. "A hell of a long, rotten war."</p> - -<p>He leaned against the car, his grey-green eyes half closed. The breeze -came in from the sea, heavy with the stench of amphibian bodies. The -radio droned on. The single deep line between Fallon's straight brows -grew deeper. He began to talk, slowly, to Joan.</p> - -<p>"The experts say that the Little Brown Brothers must have some kind -of a movable projector capable of producing rays which upset the -evolutionary balance and cause abnormal growth. Rays like hard X-rays, -or the cosmic rays that govern reproduction.</p> - -<p>"California Tech has dissected several types of monsters. They say that -individual cell groups are affected, causing spontaneous growth in -living individuals, and that metabolism has been enormously speeded, so -that life-cycles which normally took years now take only a few weeks.</p> - -<p>"They also say that huge numbers—the bulk of these creatures—are -mutants, new individuals changed in the egg or the reproductive cell. -All these monsters are growing and spawning at a terrific tempo. -Billions of eggs, laid and hatched, even with the high mortality rate.</p> - -<p>"They're evolving, at a fantastic rate of speed. They're growing legs -and lungs and becoming mammals. They're coming out of the sea, just -as our ancestors did millions of years ago. They're coming fast, and -they're hungry."</p> - -<p>He fixed the girl suddenly with a bright, sharp stare.</p> - -<p>"Do you think a thing as big as that is man-made?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was a grim, stony weariness in her face. "The Japanese say so. -What other explanation is there?"</p> - -<p>"But," said Fallon, "why not South America, too?"</p> - -<p>"They were probably afraid the monsters might get out of hand and -tackle their own people," said Joan bitterly.</p> - -<p>"Maybe." Again Fallon's eyes were distant. Then he clapped his hands -sharply and sprang up. "Yes! Got it, Joan!"</p> - -<p>The quick motion ripped at the wound across his back. He swayed and -caught her shoulder, but he didn't stop talking.</p> - -<p>"Einar Bjarnsson! He was my last job. I interviewed him the day before -the quake. I want to see him, Joan. Now!"</p> - -<p>She took his wrists, half frightened. "What is it, Webb?"</p> - -<p>"Listen," he said softly. "Remember the radio calls from the islands? -The monsters came out of the west here, didn't they? Well, out -there—<i>they came out of the east</i>!"</p> - -<p>Fallon explained, as he sent the car screaming perilously along winding -mountain roads. Einar Bjarnsson was an expert on undersea life. He had -charted tide paths and sub-sea 'rivers,' mapped the continental shelves -and the great deeps.</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's recent exploration had been in the Pacific, using a -specially constructed small submarine. His findings on deep-sea -phenomena had occupied space in scientific journals and the Sunday -supplements of newspapers throughout the world.</p> - -<p>Two days before the big quake Einar Bjarnsson returned to the place -he called home—a small bachelor cabin on a hilltop, crammed with -scientific traps and trophies of his exploring. Webb Fallon drew the -assignment of interviewing him.</p> - -<p>"I was pretty sore at Madge, then," Fallon confessed, "and I had a -ferocious hangover. The interview didn't go so well. But I remember -Bjarnsson mentioning something about a volcanic formation quite close -to the Pacific coast—something nobody had noticed before. It was -apparently extinct, and the only thing that made it notable was its -rather unusual conformation."</p> - -<p>Joan stared at him. "What's that got to do with anything?"</p> - -<p>Fallon shrugged. "Maybe nothing. Only I recall that the epicenter of -the recent quake was somewhere in the vicinity of Bjarnsson's volcano. -I remember that damned quake quite well, because it cost me my job."</p> - -<p>Joan opened her mouth and closed it again, hard. Fallon grinned.</p> - -<p>"You were going to tell me it wasn't the quake, but my own bad -character," he said mockingly.</p> - -<p>There was something grim in the upthrust lines of her jaw. "I can't -make you out, Webb," she said quietly. "Sometimes I think there's good -stuff in you—and then I think Madge was right!"</p> - -<p>Fallon's dark oval face went ugly, and he didn't speak again until -Bjarnsson's house came in sight.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER THREE</p> - -<p class="ph2">Bjarnsson's Submarine</p> - - -<p>Fallon stopped the car and got out stiffly, feeling suddenly tired and -disinterested. He hesitated. Why bother with a crazy hunch? The rolling -crash of gunfire was getting closer. Why not forget the whole thing and -go while the going was good?</p> - -<p>He realized that Joan was watching him with sapphire eyes grown puzzled -and hard. "Damn it!" he snarled. "Stop looking at me as though I were a -bug under glass!"</p> - -<p>Joan said, "Is that Bjarnsson in the doorway?"</p> - -<p>For the third time Fallon's hands clenched in anger. Then he turned -sharply, white about the lips with the pain it cost him, and strode up -to the small rustic cabin.</p> - -<p>Einar Bjarnsson remembered him. He stood aside, a tall stooped man with -massive shoulders and a gaunt, cragged face. Coarse fair hair shot -with grey hung in his eyes, which were small and the color of frozen -sea-water.</p> - -<p>He said, in a deep, slow voice, "Come in. I have been watching through -my telescope. Most interesting. But it gets too close now. I am -surprised you are here. Duty to your paper, eh?"</p> - -<p>Fallon let it pass. He might get more out of Bjarnsson if the explorer -thought he was still with the <i>Observer</i>. And then the thought struck -him—what was he going to do if his hunch was right?</p> - -<p>Nothing. He had no influence. The statesmen were handling things. -Suppose Japan did take the Pacific States? Suppose there was a war? He -couldn't do anything about it. Let the big boys worry. There'd be a -beach somewhere that he could comb in peace.</p> - -<p>He made a half turn to go out again. Then he caught sight of a map on -the far wall—a map of the Pacific.</p> - -<p>Something took him to it. He put his finger on a spot north and east of -the Hawaiian Islands. And even then he couldn't have said why he asked -his question.</p> - -<p>"Your volcanic formation was about here, wasn't it, Bjarnsson?"</p> - -<p>The tall Norseman stared at him with cold shrewd eyes. "Yes. Why?"</p> - -<p>"Look here." Fallon drew a rough circle with his fingertip, touching -the Pacific Coast, swinging across the ocean through the Gilberts and -the Marshalls, touching Wake, and curving up again to Vancouver.</p> - -<p>"The volcanic formation is the center of that circle," Fallon said. -"It was also the epicenter of the recent quake, according to Cal-Tech -seismologists. That's what gave me the hunch. The monsters seem to be -fanning out in a circle from some central point located about there."</p> - -<p>"That is already explained," said Bjarnsson. "The Japanese may have -their projector located there. And why not?"</p> - -<p>"No reason at all," Fallon admitted. "You mentioned, in your interview, -something about a Japanese ocean survey ship coming up just as you -left. That ship might still have been near there at the time of the -quake, mightn't it?"</p> - -<p>"It is possible. Go on." There was a little sharp flame flickering in -Bjarnsson's eyes.</p> - -<p>Fallon said, "Could these super-evolutionary rays be caused by volcanic -action?"</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's grey-blond shaggy brows met, and the flame was sharper in -his eyes. "Fantastic. But so is this whole affair.... Yes! If an area -of intense radioactivity were uncovered by an earth-shift, the sea and -all that swims in it might be affected."</p> - -<p>"Ah!" Fallon's lips were drawn in a tight grin. "Suppose the officers -of the Japanese ship saw the beginnings of the effect. Suppose they -radioed home, and someone did some quick thinking. Suppose, in short, -that they're lying."</p> - -<p>"<i>Ja</i>," whispered Bjarnsson. "Let us think."</p> - -<p>"I've already thought," said Fallon. "Two weeks would give them time -to arrange everything. The important thing is this—if the force is -man-made, even destroying the projector won't do any good. They'll -have others. But if it were a natural force, the psychological aspect -of the thing alone would be tremendous. There'd be a chance of doing -something."</p> - -<p>The explorer's deep light eyes glinted. "Our people would fight better -if it was something they <i>could</i> fight." He swung to the big telescope -mounted in the west windows. "Bah! It gets worse. Those creatures, they -don't know when they are dead. And the way they come! We must go soon."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He swung back to Fallon. "But how to find out if you are right?"</p> - -<p>"You have a submarine," said Fallon.</p> - -<p>"So has the Navy."</p> - -<p>"But they're all needed. Yours can go where the big ones can't—and -go deeper. These monsters are all heading for land, which means they -gravitate to the surface. You might get through below."</p> - -<p>"Yes." Bjarnsson strode up and down the cluttered room. "We could take -a depth charge. If we found the volcano to be the cause, we might close -the fissure.</p> - -<p>"Time, Fallon! That is the thing. A few days, a few weeks, and the -sheer pressure of these hordes will have forced the defenders back to -the mountains and the deserts. Civilian morale will break."</p> - -<p>He stopped, making a sharp gesture of futility. "I am forgetting. The -radiations, Fallon. Without proper insulation, we would evolve like the -sea-things. And it would take many days to make lead armor for us, even -if we could get anyone to do the work."</p> - -<p>"Radiations," said Fallon slowly. "Yeah. I'd forgotten that. Well, that -stops that. Projector or volcano, you'd never reach it."</p> - -<p>He brushed a hand across his eyes, all his brief enthusiasm burned -away. He was getting like that. He wished he had a drink.</p> - -<p>"Probably all moonshine, anyway," he said. "Anyhow, there's nothing we -can do about it."</p> - -<p>"Nothing!" Joan Daniels spoke so sharply that both men started. "You -mean you're not even going to try?"</p> - -<p>"Bjarnsson can pass the idea along for what it's worth."</p> - -<p>"You know what that means, Webb! The idea would be either laughed at or -pigeonholed, especially with the Jap propagandists doing such a good -job. The government's got a war on its hands. Even if someone did pay -attention, nothing would be done until too late. It never is."</p> - -<p>She gripped his arms, looking up at him with eyes like sea-blue swords.</p> - -<p>"If there's a bare chance of saving them, Webb, you've got to take it!"</p> - -<p>Fallon looked down at her, his wolf's eyes narrowed.</p> - -<p>"Listen," he said. "I'm not a fiction hero. We've got an Army, a Navy, -an air force, and a secret service. They're getting paid for risking -their necks. Let them worry. I had a hunch, which may not be worth a -dime. I passed it along. Now I'm going to clear out, before anything -more happens to me."</p> - -<p>Joan's face was cut, sharp and bitter, from brown wood. Her eyes had -fire in them, way back.</p> - -<p>"Your logic," she whispered, "is flawless."</p> - -<p>"I saved your life," said Fallon brutally. "What more do you want?"</p> - -<p>The color drained from the brown wood, leaving it marble. Only the -angry fires in her eyes lived, in the pale hard stone.</p> - -<p>"You're remembering how I kissed you," said Fallon, so softly that he -hardly spoke at all. "I don't know why I did. I don't know why I came -here. I don't know...."</p> - -<p>He stopped and turned to the door. Bjarnsson, very quietly, was picking -up the phone. Fallon took the knob and turned it.</p> - -<p>"I am sorry," said a quiet, sibilant voice. "You cannot leave. And you, -sir—put down that telephone."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A small neat man with a yellow face stood on the threshold. He was -holding a small, neat, efficient-looking automatic. Fallon backed into -the room, hearing the click of the cradle as the phone went down.</p> - -<p>"You are Einar Bjarnsson?" The question was toneless and purely -rhetorical. The black eyes had seen the whole room in one swift flick. -"I am Kashimo," said the man, and waited.</p> - -<p>"Fallon," Webb said easily. "This is Miss Daniels. We just dropped in -for a chat. Mind if we go now?"</p> - -<p>"I am afraid ..." said Kashimo, and spread his hands. "I have been -discourteous enough to eavesdrop. You have an inventive mind, Mr. -Fallon. An inaccurate mind, but one that might prove disturbing to our -plans."</p> - -<p>"Don't worry," grunted Fallon. "I have no business whatsoever, and I -attend to it closely. Your plans don't matter to me at all."</p> - -<p>"Indeed." Kashimo studied him with black, bright eyes. "You are either -a liar or a disgrace to your country, Mr. Fallon. But I may not take -chances. You and the young lady I must, sadly, cancel out."</p> - -<p>"And I?" Bjarnsson asked.</p> - -<p>"You come with us," said Kashimo. Fallon saw four other small neat men -outside, close behind their leader in the doorway.</p> - -<p>He said, "What do you mean, 'cancel out'?" He knew, before Kashimo -moved his automatic.</p> - -<p>Kashimo said, "Mr. Bjarnsson, please to move out of the line of fire."</p> - -<p>No one moved. The room was still, except for Joan's quick-caught -breath. And then motion beyond the west windows caught Fallon's eye. A -colder fear crawled in his heart, but his voice surprised him, it was -so steady.</p> - -<p>"Kashimo. Look out there."</p> - -<p>The bright black eyes flicked warily aside. They widened sharply, and -the cords went slack about the jaw. Fallon sprang.</p> - -<p>He had forgotten the wound across his back. The shock of his body -striking Kashimo turned him sick and faint. He knew that the little man -fell, staggering the others so close behind him.</p> - -<p>He knew that Joan Daniels was shouting, and that Bjarnsson had caught -up an ebony war-club and was using it. Shots boomed in his ears. But -one sound kept him from fainting—the thunder of slow relentless giant -wings.</p> - -<p>He got up in unsteady darkness. A round sallow face appeared. He struck -at it. Bone cracked under his knuckles, and the face vanished. Fallon -found a wall and clung to it.</p> - -<p>Hands gripped his ankle—Kashimo's hands. Bjarnsson was outside mopping -up. Fallon braced himself and drew his foot back. His toe caught -Kashimo solidly under the angle of the jaw.</p> - -<p>"Joan," said Fallon. The wings were thundering closer. Joan didn't -answer. A sort of queer panic filled Fallon.</p> - -<p>"Joan!" he cried. "Joan!"</p> - -<p>"Here I am, Webb." She came from beyond the door, with a heavy little -idol in her hand. It had blood on it. Her golden hair was tumbled and -her neck was bleeding where a bullet had creased it.</p> - -<p>Fallon caught her. He felt her wince under his hands. He didn't know -quite what he wanted, except that she must be safe.</p> - -<p>He only said, "Hurry, before those things get here."</p> - -<p>The throb of wings was deafening. Bjarnsson came in, swinging his club. -His cragged face was bloody, but his pale eyes blazed.</p> - -<p>"Good man, Fallon," he grunted. "All right, let's go. There's a cave -below here. Take their guns, young lady. We'll need them."</p> - -<p>The sky beyond the west windows was clogged with huge black shapes. -Fallon remembered the smashed windows of the department store in Santa -Monica. "Joan," he said, "come here."</p> - -<p>He put his arm around her shoulders. He might have walked all right -without her, but somehow he wanted her there.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>They dropped down the other side of the hill into a little brush-choked -cleft. There was a shallow cave at one end.</p> - -<p>"There go my windows," said Bjarnsson, and cursed in Swedish. "In with -you, before those flying devils find us."</p> - -<p>They were well hidden. Chances were the rays would go right over -them—after they'd finished off Kashimo and his men. Bjarnsson said -softly, "What did they want with me, Fallon?"</p> - -<p>"There's only one thing they couldn't get from somebody else," returned -Fallon. "Your submarine."</p> - -<p>"Yes. The mechanisms are of my own design. They would need me to -operate it. Does that mean we are right about the volcano?"</p> - -<p>"Maybe. They'd have made plans to control it, of course. Or they may -want your ship merely as a model."</p> - -<p>There was silence for a while. Outside, heavy wings began to beat -again. They came perilously low, went over, and were gone.</p> - -<p>Einar Bjarnsson said quietly, "I'm going to take the chance, Fallon. -I'm going to try to get my ship through."</p> - -<p>"What about the radiations?"</p> - -<p>"If Kashimo was planning to use the ship, he'll have arranged for that. -Anyway, I'm going to see." His ice-blue eyes stabbed at Fallon. "I -can't do it alone."</p> - -<p>Joan Daniels said, "I'll go."</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's eyes flicked from one to the other. Fallon's face was dark -and almost dangerous.</p> - -<p>"Wait a minute," he said gently.</p> - -<p>Joan faced him. "I thought you were going away."</p> - -<p>"I've changed my mind." Looking at her, at her blue, unsympathetic -eyes, Fallon wondered if he really had. Perhaps the stunning shock of -all that had happened had unsettled him.</p> - -<p>Joan put both hands on his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. -"What kind of a man are you, Webb Fallon?"</p> - -<p>"God knows," he said. "Where do you keep your boat, Bjarnsson?"</p> - -<p>"In a private steel-and-concrete building at Wilmington. Some of the -improvements are of interest to certain people. I keep them locked -safely away. Or so I thought."</p> - -<p>Fallon rose stiffly. "Kashimo didn't come in a car, that's certain. -He'd have been arrested on sight. Any place for a plane to land near -here?"</p> - -<p>The explorer shook his head. "Unless it could come straight down."</p> - -<p>Fallon snapped his finger. "A helicopter! That's it."</p> - -<p>He led the way out. They found the 'copter on a small level space -beyond the shoulder of the hill. Fallon nodded.</p> - -<p>"Ingenious little chaps. The ship's painted like an Army plane. Any -pilot would think it was a special job and let it severely alone." He -turned abruptly to Joan.</p> - -<p>"Take my car," he told her. "Get away from here, fast. Find someone in -authority and make him listen—just in case."</p> - -<p>She nodded. "Webb, why are you going?"</p> - -<p>"Because there isn't time to get anyone else," he told her roughly. -"Because there's a story there...."</p> - -<p>He stopped, startled at what he had said. "Yes," he said slowly, "a -story. My story. Oh hell, why did you have to come along?"</p> - -<p>He put his hands suddenly back of her head and tilted her face up, his -fingers buried in the warm curls at the base of her neck.</p> - -<p>"I was all set," he whispered savagely. "I knew all the answers. And -then you showed up. If you hadn't, I'd be half-way to Miami by now. I'd -still be sure of myself. I wouldn't be so damned confused, thinking one -way and feeling another...."</p> - -<p>She kissed him suddenly, warmly. "I'll make somebody listen," she said. -"And then I'll wait—and pray."</p> - -<p>Then she was gone. In a minute he heard the car start.</p> - -<p>"Come on," he snarled at Bjarnsson. "I remember you said you fly."</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">CHAPTER FOUR</p> - -<p class="ph2">A Dead Man Comes Back</p> - - -<p>It was a nightmare trip. The battle below was terribly clear. Twice -they dodged flights of the giant rays, saved only because the scent of -food kept the attention of the brutes on the ground.</p> - -<p>The harbor basin at Wilmington was choked with slippery, struggling -beasts. There was hardly a sign of shipping. Bjarnsson made for the -flat top of a square building, completely surrounded.</p> - -<p>A flight of rays went over just as they landed. A trap door in the roof -raised and was slammed shut again.</p> - -<p>"Now," said Fallon grimly, and jumped out.</p> - -<p>They were almost to the trap when a ray sighted them. Fallon shot it -through the eye, but others followed. Bjarnsson wrenched up the trap. A -surprised yellow face peered up, vanished in a crimson smear.</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson hauled the body out and threw it as far as he could. The rays -fought over it like monstrous gulls over a fish head.</p> - -<p>Fallen retched and followed Bjarnsson down.</p> - -<p>There were three other men in the building. One tried to shoot it out -and was killed. The others were mechanics, with no stomachs for the -guns.</p> - -<p>They looked over the sub, a small stubby thing of unusual design, and -Bjarnsson nodded his gaunt shaggy head.</p> - -<p>"These suits of leaded fabric," he said. "One big, for me. The other -smaller, for Kashimo, perhaps. Can you get into it?"</p> - -<p>Fallon grunted. "I guess so. Hey! Look there."</p> - -<p>"Ha! A depth charge, held in the claws I use for picking specimens from -the ocean floor. They have prepared well, Fallon."</p> - -<p>"You know what that means!" Fallon was aware of a forgotten, surging -excitement. His palms came together with a ringing crack.</p> - -<p>"I was right! Kashimo was going to hold you here until the Government -capitulated. Then he was going out to shut off the power. There's -no projector, Bjarnsson. It <i>was</i> the volcano. If we can close that -fissure while there's still resistance, we'll have 'em licked!"</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's ice-blue eyes fixed Fallon with a sharp, unwavering stare, -and he spoke slowly, calmly, almost without expression.</p> - -<p>"It will take about three days to get there, working together. One fit -of cowardice or indecision, one display of nerves or temper may destroy -what slight chance we have."</p> - -<p>"You mean," said Fallon, "you wish you had someone you could depend -on." He smiled crookedly. "I'll do my best, Bjarnsson."</p> - -<p>They struggled into the clumsy lead armor and shuffled into the small -control room of the submarine. Everything had been prepared in advance. -In a few seconds, automatic machinery was lowering the sub into its -slip.</p> - -<p>Water slapped the hull. Bjarnsson started the motors. They went forward -slowly, through doors that opened electrically.</p> - -<p>Ballast hissed and snarled into the tanks.</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson said, "If we can get through this first pack, into deep -water, we may make it." He pointed to a knife-switch. "Pull it."</p> - -<p>Fallon did. Nothing seemed to happen. Bjarnsson sat hunched over the -controls, cold blue eyes fixed on the periscope screen. Fallon had a -swift, horrible sense of suffocation—the steel wall of the sub curving -low over his helmeted head, the surge of huge floundering bodies in the -water outside.</p> - -<p>Something struck the hull. The little ship canted. Fallon gripped his -seat with rigid, painful hands. Bjarnsson's armored, unhuman shoulders -moved convulsively with effort. Fallon felt a raw panic scream rising -in his throat....</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He choked it back. Heavy muffled blows shook the submarine. The motors -churned and shook. Fallon was afraid they were going to stop. Sweat -dripped in his eyes, misted his helmet pane.</p> - -<p>The screws labored on. Fallon heard the tanks filling, and knew that -they were going deeper. The blows on the hull grew fewer, farther -between. Fallon began to breath again.</p> - -<p>Einar Bjarnsson relaxed, just a little. His voice came muffled by his -helmet. "The worst, Fallon—we're through it."</p> - -<p>Fallon's throat was as dry as his face was wet. "But how?"</p> - -<p>"Sometimes, in the deeps, one meets creatures. Hungry creatures, as -large even as this ship. So I prepared the hull. That switch transforms -us into a travelling electric shock, strong enough to discourage almost -anything. I hoped it would get us through."</p> - -<p>Thinking of what might have happened, Fallon shut his jaw hard. His -voice was unnaturally steady as he asked, "What now?"</p> - -<p>"Now you learn to operate the ship, in case something should happen to -me." Bjarnsson's small blue eyes glinted through his helmet pane. "Too -bad there is not a radio here, Fallon, so that you might broadcast as -we go. As it is, I fear the world may miss a very exciting story."</p> - -<p>"For God's sake," said Fallon wearily, and he wasn't swearing. "Let's -not make this any tougher. Okay. This is the master switch...."</p> - -<p>In the next twenty-four hours, Fallon learned to handle the submarine -passably well. Built for a crew of two, the controls were fairly -simple, once explained. Nothing else was touched. The only extra switch -that mattered was the one that released the depth charge.</p> - -<p>For an endless, monotonous hell, Fallon stood watch and watch about -with Bjarnsson, one at the controls, one operating the battery -of observation 'scopes, never sleeping. They saved on oxygen as -a precaution, which added to the suffocating discomfort of the -helmet-filters.</p> - -<p>Black, close, nerve-rasping hours crawled by, became days. At last, -Fallon, bent over the 'scope screen, licked the sweat from his thin -lips and looked at Bjarnsson, a blurred dark hulk against the dim glow -of the half-seen instrument panel.</p> - -<p>Fallon's head ached. The hot stale air stank of oil. His body was tired -and cramped and sweat-drenched, and the wound across his shoulders -throbbed. He looked at the single narrow bunk.</p> - -<p>There was nothing out there in the water but darkness. Even the -deep-sea fish had felt the impulse and avoided the sub. Fallon got up.</p> - -<p>"Bjarnsson," he said, "I'm going to sleep."</p> - -<p>The explorer half turned in his seat.</p> - -<p>"<i>Ja?</i>" he said quietly.</p> - -<p>"There's nothing out there," growled Fallon. "Why should I sit and -glare at that periscope?"</p> - -<p>"Because," Bjarnsson returned with ominous gentleness, "there might be -something. We will not reach the volcano for perhaps ten hours. You had -better watch."</p> - -<p>Fallon's hard jaw set. "I can't go any longer without sleep."</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's cragged face was flushed and greasy behind his helmet, but -his eyes were like glittering frost.</p> - -<p>"All the whisky and the women," he whispered. "They make you soft, -Fallon. The girl would have been better."</p> - -<p>A flashing glimpse of Joan as she had looked in the car that morning -crossed the eye of Fallon's mind—the tumbled fair hair and the -sunlight warm on throat and cheek, and her voice saying, "You wouldn't -be bad, Webb ... so lazy and so hell-fired selfish!"</p> - -<p>He cursed and started forward. The dark blur of Bjarnsson rose, -blotting out the green glow. And then the panel light rose in a -shuddering arc.</p> - -<p>Fallon thought for a moment that he was fainting. The low curve of the -hull spun about. He knew that he fell, and that he struck something, -or that something struck him. All orientation was lost. His helmet -rang against metal like a great gong, and then he was sliding down a -cluttered slope.</p> - -<p>A blunt projection ripped across his back. Even through the leaded -suit, the pain of it made him scream. He heard the sound as a distant, -throttled echo. Then even the dim green light was gone.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The screen flickered abominably. It showed mostly a blurred mob of -people, trampling back and forth. Then it steadied and there was a -picture, in bright, gay colors.</p> - -<p>A starfish twenty feet across wrapping itself around a woman and her -stupefied child.</p> - -<p>"We saw that," said Fallon. "On the beach. Remember?"</p> - -<p>He thought Joan answered, but there was another picture. A vast red -crab, pulling a man to bits with its claws. And after that, the -shrieking woman outside the broken window, dragged down by a worm.</p> - -<p>"Wonder who got those shots?" said Fallon. Again Joan answered, but he -didn't hear her. The pictures moved more rapidly. Rays, black against -the blue sky. Planes falling. Guns firing and firing and choking to -silence. People, black endless streams of them, running, running, -running.</p> - -<p>Joan pulled at him. Her face was strangely huge. Her eyes were as he -had first seen them, hard chips of sapphire. And at last he heard what -she was saying.</p> - -<p>"Your fault, Webb Fallon. This might have been stopped. But you had to -sleep. You couldn't take it. You're no good, Webb. No good. No good...."</p> - -<p>Her voice faded, mixed somehow with a deep throbbing noise. "Joan!" he -shouted. "Joan!" But her face faded too. The last he could see was her -eyes, hard and steady and deeply blue.</p> - -<p>"Joan," he whispered. There was a sound in his head like the tearing of -silk, a sensation of rushing upward. Then he was quite conscious, his -face pressed forward against his helmet and his body twisted, bruised -and painful.</p> - -<p>The first thing he saw was Einar Bjarnsson sprawled on the floor -plates. A sharp point of metal had ripped his suit from neck to waist, -laying his chest bare.</p> - -<p>For a moment of panic horror, Fallon sought for tears in his own suit. -There were none. He relaxed with a sob of relief, and looked up at the -low curve of the hull.</p> - -<p>It was still whole. Fallon shuddered. What product of abnormal -evolution had attacked them in the moment that he had looked away? -Strange he hadn't seen it coming, before.</p> - -<p>The dim, still bulk of Einar Bjarnsson drew his gaze. Crouched there -on his knees, it seemed to Fallon that the whole universe drew in and -centered on that motionless body.</p> - -<p>"I killed him," Fallon whispered. "I looked away. I might have seen the -thing in time, but I looked away. I killed him."</p> - -<p>For a long time he couldn't move. Then, like the swift stroke of a -knife, terror struck him.</p> - -<p>He was alone under the sea.</p> - -<p>He got up. The chronometer showed an elapsed time of nearly two hours. -The course, held by an Iron Mike, was steady. The beast that had -attacked them must have lost interest.</p> - -<p>Fallon clung to a stanchion and thought, harder than he had ever -thought in his life.</p> - -<p>He couldn't go on by himself. There had to be two men, to gauge -distances, spot the best target, control the sub in the resultant -blast. Why couldn't he forget the volcano? There were lots of islands -in the Pacific, beyond the affected sphere.</p> - -<p>He could stay drunk on palm wine as well as Scotch.</p> - -<p>He'd never see Joan again, of course. Joan, accusing, hard-eyed, -contemptuous. Joan, condemning him for murder....</p> - -<p>Fallon laughed, a sharp, harsh bark. "Joan, hell! That was my own mind, -condemning me!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>His gaze went back to Bjarnsson's body, rolling slightly with the -motion of the ship. It boiled down to that. Murder. His careless, -selfish murder of Bjarnsson. The murder of countless civilians. War, -bitter, brutal, desperate.</p> - -<p>Fallon drew a long, shuddering breath. His head dropped forward in his -helmet, and his slanting wolf's eyes were closed. Then he turned and -sat down at the controls.</p> - -<p>The single forward 'scope field gave him vision enough to steer. -Anything might attack from the sides or the stern—another beast grown -incredibly huge, but not yet a lung breather.</p> - -<p>Alone, he probably wouldn't succeed. He wouldn't live to know whether -he had or not. His gloved hands clenched over the levers that would -change the course, send him away to safety.</p> - -<p>Savagely he forced his hands away. He gripped the wheel. Time slid by -him, black and silent as the water outside. And then....</p> - -<p>Something moved in the dark behind him.</p> - -<p>Slowly, slowly, Fallon rose and turned. The veins of his lean face were -like knotted cords. The hard steel of the hull held him, tight and -close, smothering.</p> - -<p>Blurred, faint movement. The soft scrape of metal against metal. He had -been so sure Bjarnsson was dead. He'd been dazed and sick, he hadn't -looked closely. But he'd been sure. Bjarnsson, lying so still, with his -suit ripped open.</p> - -<p><i>His suit ripped open.</i> Volcanic rays would be seeping into his flesh. -Rays of change—perhaps they even brought the dead to life.</p> - -<p>There was a grating clang, and suddenly Fallon screamed, a short choked -sound that hurt his throat.</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's face looked at him. Bjarnsson's face, with every gaunt -bone, every vein and muscle and convolution of the brain traced in -lines of cold white fire.</p> - -<p>The shrouding leaden suit slipped from wide, stooped shoulders. The -heart beat in pulses of flame within the glowing cage of the ribs. -The coil and flow of muscles in arm and thigh was a living, beautiful -rhythm of light.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>"Fallon," said Einar Bjarnsson. "Turn back."</p> - -<p>The remembered voice, coming from that glowing, pulsing throat, was the -most horrible thing of all.</p> - -<p>Fallon licked the cold sweat from his lips. "No," he said.</p> - -<p>"Turn back, or you will be killed."</p> - -<p>"It doesn't matter," whispered Fallon. "I've got to try."</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson laughed. Fallon could see his diaphragm contract in a surge -of flame, see the ripple of the laughter.</p> - -<p>A wave of anger cut across Fallon's terror, cold and sane.</p> - -<p>"I did this to you, Bjarnsson," he said. "I'm trying to make up for it. -I thought you were dead. Perhaps, if you put your armor back on, we can -patch it up somehow, and it may not be too late."</p> - -<p>"But it is too late. So, you blame yourself, eh?"</p> - -<p>"I left my post. Otherwise, you might have dodged that thing."</p> - -<p>"Dodged it?" Tiny sparkles of light shot through Bjarnsson's brain. -"Oh, <i>ja</i>. Perhaps." And he laughed again. "So you will not turn back? -Not even for the beautiful Joan?"</p> - -<p>Fallon's eyes closed, but the lines of his jaw were stern with anger. -"Do you have to torture me?"</p> - -<p>"Wait," said Bjarnsson. "Wait a little. Then I will know."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>His voice was suddenly strange. Fallon opened his eyes. The glowing -fire in the explorer's body was growing brighter, so that it blurred -the lines of vein and bone and sinew.</p> - -<p>"No," said Bjarnsson. "No need for torture. Turn back, Fallon."</p> - -<p>God, how he wanted to! "No," he whispered. "I've got to try."</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's voice came to him, almost as an echo.</p> - -<p>"We were fools, Fallon. Fools to think that we could stop this thing -with a single puny bomb. Kashimo was a fool, too, but he was a gambler. -But we, Fallon, you and I—we were the bigger fools."</p> - -<p>"The kind of fools," said Fallon doggedly, "that men have always been. -And damn it, I think I'd rather be the fool I am than the smart guy I -was!"</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's laughter echoed in his helmet. Fallon had a moment's eerie -feeling that he heard with his brain instead of his ears.</p> - -<p>"Wonderful, Fallon, wonderful! You see how circumstance makes us -traitors to ourselves? But there is no need for heroics. You can turn -back, Fallon."</p> - -<p>The lines of Bjarnsson's body were quite gone. He loomed against the -darkness as a pillar of shining mist. Fallon's weary eyes were dazzled -with it.</p> - -<p>"No," he muttered stubbornly. "No."</p> - -<p>Bjarnsson's voice rolled in on him suddenly, soul-shaking as an organ.</p> - -<p>Voice—or mind? A magnificent, thundering strength.</p> - -<p>"This is evolution, Fallon. So shall we be, a million million years -from now. This is living, Fallon. It is godhood! Take off your suit, -Fallon! Grow with me!"</p> - -<p>"Joan," said Fallon wearily. "Joan, dearest."</p> - -<p>Cosmic laughter, shuddering in his mind. And then,</p> - -<p>"Turn back, Fallon. In an hour it will be too late."</p> - -<p>The shining mist was dimming, drawing in upon itself. And at the core, -a tiny light was growing, a frosty white flame that seared Fallon's -brain.</p> - -<p>"Turn back! Turn back!"</p> - -<p>He fought, silently. But the light and the voice poured into him. -Abruptly, something in him relaxed. He'd been so long without rest.</p> - -<p>He knew, very dimly, that he turned and changed the course, back toward -the coast of California.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>From somewhere, out of the gulfs between the stars, a voice spoke to -him as he lay sprawled across the control panel.</p> - -<p>"There was no need for you to die, Fallon. Now, I can see much. It -was no monster that struck us, but the first shock of a series of -quakes, which will close the fissure far better than any human agency. -Therefore, what happened to me was not your fault.</p> - -<p>"And I am glad it happened. I, Bjarnsson, was growing old, I had -nothing but science to hold me to Earth. Now my knowledge is boundless, -and I am not confined by the fetters of the flesh. I am Mind—as some -day we will all be.</p> - -<p>"You will be safe, Fallon. The invasion will fail as the power is shut -off, and America can deal with any further dangers. Marry Joan, and be -happy.</p> - -<p>"I don't know about myself, yet. The possibilities are too vast to be -explored in a minute. I am not dead, Fallon. Remember that! But—" and, -here Fallon heard an echo of Bjarnsson's harsh, mocking laughter—"if -you should ever cease to be a fool and become again a smart guy, I -shall find a way to send you back along evolution, to a stupid ape!</p> - -<p>"I go now, Fallon. <i>Skoal!</i> And will you name your first-born Einar? 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