The week following was a long, hideous nightmare, during which Art flew
from city to city, fighting the ghastly scourge which was cropping
up more and more rapidly, all over the globe. Vladivostok, Berlin,
Cuba--he could hardly remember them all. He was glad he could not
sleep, because he knew his dreams would be tortured by visions of men
and women being cut to ribbons by millions of rending jaws. It was
dreadfully apparent to Art what was happening. The creatures appeared
in a particular area almost simultaneously. Every bit of life was wiped
out, except for perhaps a few small shrubs and grasses. Huge trees,
buildings, even mountains, all came crashing down. All sources of food
supply were wiped out. The creatures could be cleared from the ground
by disintegration, but more soon came to take their place.
Art flew back to the laboratory in Washington from Manchuria, scene of
his latest struggle, shortcutting across the polar cap. He noted with
sick dismay that even the ice fields were beginning to bristle with
black stubble.
Arriving in Washington, Art landed at the Institute. He searched
hurriedly for Dr. Theller, but was unable to find him Elene, however,
appeared.
"Art! I'm so glad to see you safe! Tell me--is it really as terrible as
it looks over the televisor?"
"Ever so much worse," Art answered grimly. "We've got to do something,
and quick. I know the Martians could help us. Has Dr. Theller appealed
to them?"
"Didn't you know?" she asked, wide eyed. "We haven't had any contact
with Mars all week. Two ships were scheduled to arrive from there, and
haven't been heard from."
Art whistled softly. "Guess I've been missing quite a bit of news
lately!"
"That's not all," Elene continued. "You know Denny was out on Venus
with a crew. He sent in some kind of wire to Dr. Theller about
discovering some ancient ruins, traces of a lost civilization, and
saying that he was heading back. That was over a week ago--he was due
in day before yesterday. I've tried repeatedly to contact him on the
way, with no success. Dr. Theller certainly behaves strangely--I don't
know--he--"
Art wasn't listening. He was thinking of Denny--the bronzed,
hard-bitten space pilot, who had always represented to him all the
glamour of the far flung outposts. And been just a darn good friend,
too. The perils of Venus were many and varied--but on the other hand,
he had the utmost confidence in Denny's ability to take care of his
space ship and crew through almost any situation.
"Art, I'm beginning to have a dreadful feeling that somehow this is
all tied in together," said Elene hesitantly. "I've been wanting to
talk it over with you for ever so long. This plague of subterranean
monsters--communications with Mars cut off--Denny out there somewhere,
cut off, too--"
* * * * *
"Perhaps there's not so much cause for concern over Denny," Art put
in soothingly. "After all, any sort of trivial accident might have
occurred which would delay him this long."
"Yes, Art, but I feel that even though the creatures don't seem to have
much intelligence, there is some kind of horrible plan behind the whole
thing, and that the stopping of traffic with the other planets is part
of that plan."
"That is quite a theory, Elene, my dear," came a patronizing voice from
behind, "but it's quite possible that I and my colleagues may be able
to work out a solution without the aid of my secretary." Dr. Theller
had entered the room unnoticed. Elene flushed, and was on the verge of
making an equally caustic retort, but bit back the words.
"As far as Denny is concerned," the doctor went on, "he has been going
out there for a good many years now; unless I miss my guess, the space
madness is creeping in on his brain. That story of finding remains of
a lost civilization--that's really pretty steep, you know. It's well
known that the evolution of fauna on Venus has not, and will not,
progress to the point of producing reasoning, speaking beings for
millions of years."
"I can't believe that of Denny!" flashed Art. "Space madness attacks
those who can't stand the solitude, exposure and utter loneliness of
that awful void. You know that Denny always laughed at those things. He
was iron. And I don't believe he's getting old, either. The last time I
saw him, he was in his prime."
A hot argument was averted only by the flashing of signals at one side
of the room, which announced a televisor communication. Elene was
nearest and flipped the switch. The face of a middle-aged man, tense
with suppressed excitement, appeared on the screen. He scanned their
faces closely. It was Haight, of the British Foundation.
"Theller--Douglas--all of you!" he blurted. "Listen! I've
just found--oh, but what fools we were not to see! Those
organisms--they're--but I can't possibly tell you over the air. I'll
be there as fast as a strato-ship can take me. I'm bursting to tell
someone. There's not a soul here in the lab; it's very late. Expect me
in three hours, at the most." The screen went black.
* * * * *
Art and Elene were on the roof of the laboratory, enjoying the soft
summer evening, and talking over this new turn of events. The city
was quiet around them. New hope seemed to blaze within them with the
brilliance of the countless stars overhead. Perhaps Haight's discovery
meant the turning of the tide in this losing struggle in which they had
been participating. Art felt that he could relax for the first time
since that heartbreaking week had begun. As his fatigue fell away, he
felt a great longing come over him. How near he had come to losing this
lovely woman by his side. All those years of dull routine in the lab,
near her every day, yet doing nothing about it! But Art had changed
to a man of action, through sheer necessity, and he wore his new
personality with heady exuberance. He took the girl in his arms.
"Darling, life is very good," he murmured. "I don't want us to die. I
don't want to be pushed off this lovable old earth of ours by an alien
form of life. And it's chiefly because of you. But we're not going to
let that happen, are we? We're going to fight until every last hideous,
ugly one of them is gone."
"Yes, sweet," she sighed contentedly, "And Art, please--when it's all
over--let's not just sink back into the old way of life again. I think
our love will be able to stand even that test from now on--but let's
not put it to that test. Can't we get out of Interplanetary, travel,
open up new worlds, just anything like that?"
"I have a hunch that from now on we're going to require plenty of
danger in our everyday life," he laughed. "After we're married--"
A shrill whine interrupted them, and they broke apart. Far out in the
midnight sky, hours had slipped away like so many minutes, and Haight
was arriving. He had been hurling his ship along at a reckless speed
and was braking only at the last minute. Now they could see the dark
shape arching down toward the laboratory. Suddenly it seemed to stop,
to poise in midair. Then it dissolved into a blinding white flash.
The deafening roar of the explosion came seconds later. Art and Elene
looked at each other in mute horror and despair, amid a great silence
broken only by tiny, distant sounds as the fragments of Haight and his
ship rained down gently on the city of Washington.
"We'll keep fighting," Art finally said in a dull voice.