THE SPHERES
When the sentry faced the captain again, he stared into the mouth
of a service pistol.
"Sorry," said the officer, "but I've got to get inside." Captain
Taylor turned to Masters. "Keep him covered. I'll be back unless
the bomb goes off."
"The bomb," whispered Norden, fearfully, "should have exploded. I
was double-crossed. They sent me here to get caught! The dirty--"
"Watch Norden, and you might keep your eye on Funky, here,"
Taylor said, pointing to the slobbering man who had dropped to
his knees at the sight of the orange sphere. "I'm going inside."
The captain moved through the gate. The silence was uncanny.
Since the war began this factory had never been idle. Thousands
of cannon made; contracts for countless more! But now quiet, save
for an undescribable, whispering overtone that seemed to permeate
the air.
Something glowed in the semi-darkness ahead like a pile of hot
ashes on the ground.
Taylor entered the long forge room. A white hot splinter of metal
hung from the crane. There were a dozen heaps of the glowing
ashes scattered about the room, but no sign of life.
He moved on into the finishing room, where the long tubes of
howitzers and field pieces lay in various stages of construction.
Still there was silence.
The whispering grew louder, like a breeze stirring dry cornstalks.
The silence suddenly was broken by a scream. Then another. There
was a sound of running footsteps.
Taylor dropped behind a lathe.
Through the door came an orange glow. Sharply outlined against
the eerie light ran a human figure, a man in overalls, carrying a
hammer. On the fellow's face was frozen fear. He halted, turned
and looked behind him.
The darkness vanished as through the doorway floated a huge,
orange sphere of light.
"Stop! Go back! I mean you no harm!" screamed the workman.
The ball of orange fire floated on toward him. The man's arm
raised. He hurled the hammer straight at the sphere.
The missile rang, bounced back and fell to the sandy floor.
A small flicker of flame wafted over the surface of the sphere.
Then it lashed out like a whip toward the trembling man. His
entire body glowed like a torch, then crumpled to the floor in a
heap of ashes.
* * * * *
Scarcely daring to breathe, the captain watched the sphere float
over the ashes of its victim for a moment; then, apparently
satisfied that the man no longer lived, floated back through the
doorway.
Taylor took a deep breath. It might be well if the bomb would
explode, but he knew now it had been silenced.
In an insulated panel on the wall were the remains of an electric
switchboard. The copper switches were fused, the wires burned
through. The huge cables that brought the electric current to the
switchboard lay molten on the floor.
The bomb probably was electrical and undoubtedly had been fused
like the switchboard.
The captain had one objective now, to get out of the plant before
the orange spheres discovered him. He didn't know what he faced,
but something told him that it had never faced mankind before. He
had no weapon to combat the sphere.
Taylor reached the forge room again. He stepped over more
glowing piles of ashes.
Then his ears caught a crescendo of the whispering that he had
heard before. He looked behind him. In the doorway was an orange
glow. The sphere was coming--looking for him!
Behind the forge was a machine which had been used to operate the
crane. Beyond it was stygian darkness. He might hide there.
The captain slipped toward the machine. Every bit of electrical
wiring on the controls had been fused.
The room grew lighter, the whispering louder and then, through
the doorway, floated the dazzling sphere.
Something gripped Taylor's shoulder muscles. A mild electrical
shock coursed through his body, as if an invisible feeler had
passed over him.
The sphere halted, changed its direction and floated slowly
toward the captain.
Instinctively, Taylor backed into the corner behind the machine.
He dropped to his hands and knees and was free of the invisible
feeler! Again the orange sphere halted, as if trying to relocate
its victim.
Taylor rounded a pillar which supported the track for the crane.
His fingers struck an accumulation of rubbish that had been
tossed into the corner. He started to push it out of the way,
when the floor beneath it moved. It was a trap door!
A gasp of surprise came from Taylor's lips. He had a chance. But
the sound gave him away. The electrical feeler touched him again.
The shock jerked at his muscles and the sphere started floating
nearer.
The trap door swung back. Taylor's right boot touched the top
rung of the ladder. He moved his left boot down to the next rung.
Each movement seemed to take ages and every exertion of his
muscles was agony as the electrical shock gripped him with
increasing intensity.
He forced his body down into the opening. He saw the flame
flickering over the surface of the sphere as the thing prepared
to strike.
The sphere seemed to pulse briefly as he released his grasp on
the rim of the opening and shoved himself downward into the hole.
He dropped several feet.
Above him a brilliant flash of fire lit the opening.
The sphere itself hovered above the hole.